Adjustments

I am nearly halfway through my time at language school and this week all the students were evaluated to determine how much each person has learned in the past couple of months. One of my teachers explained today how they determine a person's language level. Surprisingly, it has little to do with grammar and more to do with how well you can get your point across. At least, that is how I am interpreting it. Getting my point across. . . I was shopping with a friend earlier this week and we were looking for post cards. We went into one shop and I know I asked (in perfect Spanish!) for the right thing but the salesclerk looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. Sometimes I feel like I look so foreign that people (such as vendors) assume that I cannot speak a lick of Spanish and are shocked when the words come out of my mouth. I find myself repeating my sentences several times before the shock wears off. I suppose it'll be one of those things I'll get used to eventually, but for now it's pretty frustrating. (If you look at the pictures I posted after the wedding, you can see how there aren't too many tall blondes who are lily-white.)

Today I picked up my carnet, an identification card that declares I have a Bolivian Visa and can stay (legally) in the country for a year. Hooray! It was a long process and my first in-country experience with how the authority seemingly kept changing the rules every time I showed up at the immigration office. One of the most frustrating parts of the process was trying to get my picture taken. Apparently there was only one camera in all of Cochabamba that could take pictures for ID cards and it was broken for 2.5 months. The backup on this was so bad that they were only taking the pictures of 15 people in the morning and 15 in the afternoon. By my third visit to attempt to get my picture taken, I was told of this new rule. The next day four fellow students and I decided we had had enough and we camped out in front of the immigration office a couple of hours before it opened to ensure that we would be the first ones to get our pictures taken that day. It worked, but it took over 3 hours to get the 5 pictures taken. Welcome to Bolivia?!

My home life with my host family continues to go well. We have an addition to the family – Grandma. She decided she wanted to live at our house for awhile. (I guess she switches between all of her childrens' houses when the mood strikes her.) She had a stroke last year and because of it she does not talk very much. I've also discovered that she must be a bit deaf because she likes to watch TV at full volume. All in all she is sweet and is content to be left alone. The other addition to our household will be my host-brother's new wife. I am pretty interested to see how everyone will get along. It can't be easy – to be a newlywed and find yourself in your husband's house where you are controlled by another woman's household rules. The bride and groom are still on their honeymoon so she hasn't actually spent any time at our house yet. Wish us all luck. :)

I realized recently that I am starting to experience the pangs of culture shock. It isn't necessarily manifesting itself in homesickness at this time, but rather safety. Here's one concrete example I can give: The seasons are changing and the sun is rising later each day. Since I enjoy running in the morning, I find myself wondering if it is safe to go to the park. For example, is it just my imagination, or have 'the regulars', who I've gotten accustomed to, disappeared? Where are all my fellow walkers/joggers? Is the park not safe, even though it is well-lit? Normally, I don't think this would faze me. I mean, I lived in a rougher area of the Bronx and literally ran in the dark and semi-dark for a year. But it was in culture that I could (sort of) recognize. Here all the 'rules' seem different.