I'll be home for . . .

Christmas!!  Yes, that's right - I finally got around to buying airline tickets for a visit home to the States.  Although I have been planning to come back to Wisconsin for months, on Tuesday I clicked on the 'purchase' button that instantly charged my credit card and filled me with such happiness that you really would have thought it was Christmas Eve. :) 

December will mark nearly 2 full years of being away from my family and loved ones, of speaking Spanish instead of English, of immersion in a culture I have yet to understand.  So when I am back, I expect to go through a little reverse culture shock, especially during the holiday season.  I am nervous to see what awaits me stateside, but mostly I can't wait to see everyone and hear about what milestones have been marked since I left.  Get ready to fill me in, 'cause I'm coming home! Woohoo!

Pick me ups or pick 'em out

When I have a really bad day - as in my attitude starts to go downhill fast about my experience here - I try to do something to pick up my spirits. And I am not referring to alcoholic kind of spirit (at least not frequently!). More of an 'intervention' that I do to myself. I find someone to go out dancing with. I get my nails done. Arrange a card playing party, etc. I've been quite dedicated to getting my nails done as of late. The other day I was video conferencing with my sister who told me that my nails looked "hideous". Gotta love my family for never holding back. Regardless of her opinion, I loved them - I got a hand painted design on my fingernails and toenails for the equivalent of $5. What do you think? Actually, I don't wanna know if you're just gonna say the same thing as her. The pictures don't give 'em justice anyway.





Also, I try to put my job in perspective because it can be easy to get bogged down in the sheer volume of need that I see on a daily basis. I find that is better to focus on the mini-triumphs. Like being able to give someone medication who cannot afford it or offering a client access to our used clothes so that they have an alternate outfit to wear. I can't help myself; I need to measure some amount of good that happens in our offices.

Speaking of which, today I came back from my lunch break to see the cleaning lady and a volunteer from our tutoring program picking lice out of the kids hair. Not their own kids. The kids from the program. It was just their sense of compassion kicking in. They told me that these girls were in pain and probably didn't have attentive mothers. Who knows. The fact is, they were willing to painstakingly pick out lice/eggs out of the thickest heads of hair in the world. I call that an act of love. And that, I suppose, is something that you would miss if you didn't slow down to gape at it occassionally.

Sometimes, I still forget where I am

I recently took on some additional work responsibilities. Additional meaning an entire program. The woman who was in charge of the disability program left the position, and since I was looking for a new challenge (plus there is no money at the community center to hire someone until next year), I volunteered to help make things run smoothly until 2011. I quickly discovered that there were many things in disarray. Which clients were current? How had they decided to re-stock medications every month? (I found out they 'guess-timeated".) Where did all the clients live? When was the last visit to the client's house? Where were the collaborating special education institutes located? Nothing was written down, the official records on hand were sometimes years behind (not months, years). Enter Lauren.
My first after-college job was at a company that was working on its ISO 9000 certification, and let's just say that that sort of quality management has stuck with me ever since. I have begun to put together a step-by-step guide on how the program generally runs. Which is a daunting task, but I hope worthwhile for whoever is hired to run the program.
I have to lean very, very heavily on the knowledge of Nelly, the woman who has been a part-time volunteer with the disability program for many years. She is amazing. I can ask her about any family in the program and she can list off the disability of the client, where they live, what school the child is in, etc. When she first started collaborating with the community center, she was illiterate. Today she can read and write in both Spanish and Quechua. She attends night school. She is learning how to use the computer. I feel that someday she will be officially running the program, but for now, she is the behind-the-scenes guru. Everyone pretty much knows that if she were not around things would quickly break down. Which scares my little quality management heart to death.
One day this past week, I was making a list of all the institutions that collaborate with our program. I was trying to figure out where some of them were located, and since the Internet is still not as widely utilized by everyone as one would hope, I called on Nelly. Our conversation went something like this:
"Nelly, where is [insert institution name]?"
"It's near the airport. I know where it is."
"Yes, I understand that. I need to know exactly how to get there."
"Why?"
"Because I am creating a document that lists all the institutions that we collaborate with and I want to add the directions on how to get there. " (To this, I got a long stare.)
"You know, in case we all die or something, it will be easier for somebody else to run the program if they have all the information they need at their fingertips."

And with that, I lost her (or completely offended her - I got another really long stare before she decided to give me the information I sought. It may have been too dramatic an example.). In the end, it's a cultural thing. What I am doing is very 'western', I suppose. Plan? What for? I've seen a fair amount of turnover at my job in the last year, and it seems like each new person who comes in invents the wheel all over again. Such a waste of time!! But then again, the concept of time is very different as well. . . and I am reminded once again that I am far, far away from home.

Wishful thinking

A Bolivian friend of mine gave me a belated birthday gift a couple of weeks ago. He and his wife were very excited for me to open it. As I pulled off the wrapping and opened the box, I was met, face to beak, with a rooster.
"Do you know what it is?!" they asked.
"Er, yes, it is a rooster figurine."
"Yes", they answered, "but do you understand what we are gifting you?"
(Hm, I mused, clearly not!) "No."
And then they launched into an explanation about how in their culture when someone gives you a chicken (if you are a man) or a rooster (if you are a woman) they are wishing you to find a wife or husband.
"Don't you think it's handsome? For sure, you are going to be lucky this year and find love."

Whoa. Now, I know that people here are generally alarmed when they hear that I am single and/or I don't have kids (and I am not a religious Sister). It's as if you are cursed. Or they chalk it up to you being a 'crazy foreigner'. But, come on! Is faith in a rooster really going to be the answer? Scoffing was going to get me nowhere, so I just smiled and replied that it really was a gorgeous rooster and posed for many pictures. It is currently being displayed in a place of honor in my home. I suppose I should be gratified that my (Bolivian) friends care so much about my future marital happiness. Assuming, of course, that marriage is equated to bliss.
I am now left wondering if this is the beginning of what will soon be a collection . . . and for every holiday or Important Saint's day that I remain a singleton in Bolivia I will be receiving another bird or object of some kind that will Bring Me a Husband. Heaven help me!

Not paying attention. . . and BAM! hit by a biker

Today I was exiting a bus, and as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I was hit by a bicyclist. Hm. Maybe I am being dramatic, but I was definitely grazed. . . I made a full 360 degree turn, got tangled up in my own feet and ended up on my keyster on the side of the road. Never saw it coming. I just looked up to the faces in the bus window, who were rather entertained at the sight of this foreign woman half laying in the street and sidewalk with a dazed and confused look on her face. Oh, and the cyclist? I like to think he turned around to make sure I was okay - which I was, thank goodness. When I had the presence of mind to look for him, he was pedaling like the wind, crossing a busy intersection, getting as far away from me as possible. What a way to start the day. I will probably wake up tomorrow morning to find some nice purple and black splotches. Thank you, biker! I will definitely pay more attention on my bus exits in the future.

On another note, today is La Noche de San Juan (Night of Saint John). What will Bolivians do tonight? Burn their old stuff (or garbage) and eat meat. I guess that is a bit simplistic. As tradition goes, tonight is the longest night of the year south of the equator, and it will get cold because the sun will be 'lost'. In order to guide the sun back, everyone makes huge bonfires during the night. The bonfires are also a way to keep warm. Plus, the cold makes a great excuse to drink (alcoholic) punch and eat sausages, hot dogs and other types of meat all night long. People are supposed to burn wood(en furniture), but if a family doesn't have wood, they just burn their trash - you know, that tire that has been sitting in the lot? Those plastic bottles that have littered the front yard? Light 'em up, baby! And since I live in a poorer area, it is pretty much a guarantee that these will be the items making up the bonfires in my barrio.
I fear for my lung health! Here's praying they don't get too pyro-crazed and try to light anything near my house on fire. (I was in Argentina last year, so I missed out on San Juan. Rumor has it that the city is so smoke filled that the airport closes down until midday every June 24th. Yikes!)

The Wonders of PVC Pipe

My dad won the March reader challenge. . . of course, he had a leg up on everyone else since he was here in person to assess the situation.

During my parents' visit to Bolivia, my dad checked out the laundry area of my patio and came up with the following system. For about US$18 (see note below), he rigged up the following canopy to keep me out of the sun as I wash my laundry. Two PVC pipes connect into the planter on the 3rd story, and one PVC pipe acts as a brace that keeps the fabric in place. He also made a brace out of wood for the bottom, which rests on the sill of my utility tub and slides a foot or so in either direction to adjust to the sun's movement across the sky. It takes me about 3 minutes to put up and a minute to take down, so it is a relatively easy apparatus to handle . . . There are still some adjustments I have to work out, but I have been getting a lot of questions as to the result of the challenge and thought I would satisfy the curiosity of those who are still interested.




Note: ~$10 of this was for the shading fabric. I was originally going to use a sheet, but it proved to be too heavy. I decided to splurge and buy a fabric sold in Coch for shading gardens - this one offers 90% shade and allows the wind to pass through. I still need to wear a hat while I do laundry, but otherwise, I have not been sunburned. Hooray!! Thanks, Dad!

To bite or not to bite

Dogs love me. At least, I seem to draw much attention in the dog department. And I am being literal. I was on retreat a couple of weeks ago. At night, I would hear the dog guards be let out and they would run past my window howling, intent on chasing something out of the yard. We were strictly told not to leave the building while the dogs were on guard. Okay, note taken. When would the dogs be put away? At 6 a.m. Oooo, perfect, I thought.
On the last morning of the retreat, I got up at 6 a.m. and got ready for a morning run. I left the building at 6:15, thinking that I would surely be on the safe side - that the main door would be unlocked and the dogs would be in their kennel. I left the building, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not bother other guests. I even left the outside door open a crack so that there would not be noise echoing down the hallway. This would turn out to be a saving grace. Why? Oh, that would be because I was making a hasty retreat about a minute later. I rounded the corner of the building only to be met with the growls, followed by the howls of three German Shepherds on the attack. It took about two seconds for me to register that the dogs had not yet been put away and that I should run back to the entrance of the building because the gate would also still be locked. That two second delay was unfortunate. It allowed them to catch up to me and get a couple of quick bites in. Those dogs meant business. I did have time to let loose a terrified scream or two, which woke up almost everyone at the retreat center. So much for my earlier good intentions! [The picture shows where a tooth broke the skin on my leg (red puncture mark) and generally where the jaws came down.] One of the religious sisters who lives on the property came running out and wanted to know if I had been bitten. Uh, yeeeah! And she was quick to apologize and to assure me that the dogs had all their vacuna, or rabies vaccination. Whew, praise God - I wouldn't have to go through 7 weeks of shots again. My question for her was, why on earth weren't the dogs put away?!?! I later found out that their keeper had 'slept in' that morning. Just my luck. I didn't blame the dogs - they were just doing their job. If the dogs weren't there, the retreat center would probably get robbed. (A reality of nicer properties in Bolivia.) I wasn't too happy with the nun who slept in, either, but what was done, was done. I got cleaned up and decided I was too energized to just sit around, so I went on my run, determined not to let the dogs get the best of me. After all, I have to deal with them all the time, at work (on house visits) and at home (my neighborhood is full of dogs who like to fight - my parents liked to say that there were "dog wars" every evening). I have yet one more scar -ahem- memory of my time here. I wonder what sort of advice Cesar Millan (the dog whisperer) would have for me. It's hard to be a pack leader around here!

The Three Week Visit

I returned to my home-sweet-home in sunny Cochabamba this morning after seeing my parents off at the airport in La Paz. My siblings will not be surprised to hear that I broke down and cried while I hugged my mom and dad goodbye. It is inevitable, I'm afraid. I much prefer hellos and beginnings. I am not sure if I wanted to: a) be on the same flight as them, taking me back to the U.S. for a visit b) freeze time, so that we could have done everything I initially planned to do with them during their visit c) go back to bed and get some much needed rest. Perhaps a combination of the three? Who knows . . . but it was time for them to leave and it is time for me to get back to the grind. Much was accomplished in three weeks - more than I have a full appreciation for right now. Here is what I remember at the moment:

1. my mom and dad have a knack for suggesting small home improvements that make a lot of sense. I now have blinds in my living room, hinges that don't squeak, and a canopy for my laundry area. They also helped me move my furniture around to optimize space. An added bonus was getting custom-made screens for my living room and bathroom. (My dad sometimes reminds me of MacGyver because he really can make something out of practically nothing. It was sooo nice to have a Bob-of-all-trades around!) p.s. I will admit that I usually resisted their ideas because 'things are fine the way they are', but I am enjoying all the changes so far.
2. trekking through a rainforest in the Chapare in flip flops. Not a good idea, but we did laugh A LOT that day.
3. being asked 100s of questions that I could not answer in a thousand years.
4. attending the opening day of The People's Summit on Climate Change and hearing the President of Bolivia talk about climate change and rallying the people against capitalism. (Evo Morales made a lot of press because of his opening speech. One of my friends was able to express what I feel is true of Evo - that he sometimes forgets that he is President of a country now instead of President of the coca growers federation. Ah, well. He made 'em laugh!)
5. waking up every day and feeling like I was in a dream state. How fortunate am I that my parents were able to visit me and take me traveling with them?!

When my mom first told me that the visit would be for three weeks, I panicked. After I started planning, however, I thought there would not be time to do everything or show them everything I wanted to show them. I was right - time flew by so quickly. It took a bit longer to get adjusted to the altitude, to catch up on sleep, and to do more than one activity a day. Just means they'll have to come back! I will post more pictures soon, but now I need to relax. Chau!

Great job?!

Some days, when I get weary of my day-to-day life, I like to dream about what I would do with my time. At times, I think I would love a job like this lady (pictured) has. She is a time keeper. She takes little time cards from bus drivers and notes the time of when they pass by her post. She can sit and enjoy the beautiful view (she happens to be near the top of a huge hill in the mountains), read (or study) all day, and there's a big tree which would offer plenty of shade. The actual job is not incredibly disruptive. I like to believe that she was only standing in this picture because she heard the rumble of the bus coming towards her and she wanted to be ready to pick up that time card. I try not to think about what it is like breathing in the fumes of the buses, standing out in the open where the wind blows dust into your face, weathering the rainy season, or the cold OR think about how little I would actually earn to be able to buy books to read while at work. That line of thought rather distracts from how great this job would be! I would rather concentrate on the benefits. :)

Reader Challenge March 2010

At my new apartment, I do my laundry by hand out on the patio. This whole not-having-a-wash-machine kinda stinks, but week by week I am getting used to it, and it reminds of how spoiled I have been up to now. Most people I know do their laundry by hand. (Or hire someone else to come to their house to do it at a rate of 20 or so pieces for ~12Bs., less than $2.) Anyway, it takes me a looong time, and I inevitably end up sunburned unless I am reapplying sunblock every half hour. Which, quite frankly, is a pain in the butt, so I basically always get sunburned, even if it is just my hands and forearms. (The sun is fierce!!) I cannot afford to be sunburned so often (or at all!), so this week, I gave up and retreated into my kitchen and washed a few loads of laundry there. (A bit of a throwback to my dad's bachelor days.) The sink is much smaller, and even though I was physically much more comfortable, I realize this cannot be a permanent solution as I need to wash dishes, prepare meals, etc., in my kitchen. So, the challenge for all you readers is to help me figure out how I can rig something over my utility sink, allowing me to do laundry like a normal dweller in Bolivia. I've already thought of things like a huge beach umbrella, but I don't know how I would make it stay. Maybe a trellis where I could grow grape vines? The thing is, at this point, immediacy is an issue. A couple of things to note: There are planters on either side of the sink, which my landlady plans to plant flowers in at some point in the future. I am renting, so I am not sure how many holes I can make. And I don't have many tools. So there you go. Let me know what you think!

Change of scenery

Last month was filled with work, packing for my move, and visiting dermatologists. Around mid-January I was apartment hunting in a neighborhood where other people from my mission organization live. At first, it didn't seem too promising. In this barrio, nobody advertises in a newspaper; everything is done by word of mouth. You have to stop by all the neighborhood stores, ask the owners for information, and if they are willing to talk to you, they'll let you know what is available. Several store owners knew of no apartments or rooms; others knew of one or two places, but by the time I got there they said it wasn't available. I did view a couple of rooms with private bath, but felt like I wouldn't have enough privacy. Finally, I hit gold and found a cute 1-bedroom in the southern zone of the city. I toured it and knew immediately that it was where I wanted to live. It was a new building next to the fairgrounds, near public transportation, a few blocks away from a running path, and owned by people who ran the store beneath it. The only problem? It wasn't going to be ready by February 1^st, the day I needed to be out of my old apartment. After a week of negotiations, I convinced the owners that I didn't mind if the closet wasn't installed for another month (or so!) and we agreed that I could move in a couple days before the first of February. Here are a couple of pictures of the outside of the building, the store I live above, and the neighborhood I now live in. Note: My building is unusually large - most homes in the area are smaller - one or two stories. However, keep in mind that the owners are very business oriented. They have a store, they rent space downstairs to a dentist, and are now renting apartments upstairs.

It's pretty different from my old neighborhood. The streets are cobblestone/dirt, not paved, so there is a LOT of dust to sweep up off the floors every day. Check out the garbage littering the street on the last picture - this is, unfortunately, the norm. Not too different from my old neighborhood in the Bronx, actually!! There isn't any main gas line to connect to my stove, so I have to use a gas tank. Water is “ordered” by my landlords, and last week I experienced for the first time in my new place was it was like to be without any water in my house. Couldn't shower, flush the toilet, wash the dishes. It's quite a pain - thank goodness I buy 20-liter bottles of water for drinking!! But here I live a bit closer to the reality that the majority of the Bolivian people experience. It's good for me to go a day without water. That is nothing compared to the many people here who have to wait days for water trucks to fill up their oil-drum sized barrels. They do not have running water, a shower (let alone a toilet!), a telephone, and sometimes not even electricity.

Anyway, my landlords are funny. The husband likes to tell me that I will be paying $3 a month for electricity, and then his wife will say that it isn't true and I should expect to pay $5-6 a month. She keeps him in line and I appreciate it! They live on the ground floor and half of the 2^nd floor with their two teenage kids. I live on the second half of the second floor – my apartment has a kitchen, bedroom, bathroom and living room. The third floor is vacant right now, which I am pretty happy about. It's a 4-bedroom apartment, and I am not sure how much noise I'll be hearing downstairs.

In other news, I went for my yearly skin cancer screening and was told that besides a mole in my scalp, I had healthy skin. No small feat since it is sunny here all the time and one constantly has to remember sunblock and hats and long sleeves. I was sent to a surgeon who decided to remove my mole. I've included a picture of the stitches. It didn't hurt at all; just my vanity. I went home the day of the surgery and looked in the mirror and cried. But the next day I got up and showered and could barely even see the wound, so I felt much better. A good night's sleep was all I needed to get perspective on the matter. In a few months my hair will grow out and hopefully I won't even think about the whole experience!

I will have to save a work story for one of my next blog posts. . . this is getting long. Miss you all back 'home'. Drop me a line or two!

Getting creative

I came back to Cochabamba after a week-long meeting in La Paz and discovered that I had a little visitor at my house. It was small and brown and pooped everywhere. Yes, I had a mouse. I went immediately to the store to buy a trap and discovered that the only ones available were the glue trap sort. I am not a fan. The last thing I wanted to find was a mouse that had, in its terror, chewed off its own limb to try to free itself - blech! - so I shopped around at some of the neighborhood stores looking for a traditional trap and one owner told me that she had to buy some as well and that she would pick some up at the bigger market in town the following day. I visited her store two days later, to ensure that she would have the mouse traps available and waiting for me. She said she forgot but assured me she would get some that day. I wasn't happy but trusted her enough to return to her store the next day. And again she didn't have the traps. This lasted a couple more days. I wasn't in a huge hurry because I figured it was just one tiny little creature and although it was annoying to find its excrement in my kitchen, I could wait for the traps. (Can you tell I am on vacation mode? I don't think I've ever been quite this laid back. . . perhaps it's a miracle of living in South America.) Anyway, the s!*# hit the fan when I went into my linen closet and discovered that all of my lovely fresh towels had mouse poop all over them. Enough was enough. The shop owner STILL had not come through for me so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I searched online and decided to make my own bucket trap. After unbending one wire hanger, drinking the contents of one can of beer, and cutting apart a cardboard box, I had the materials necessary to make the trap. Here is a shot of my handiwork: I smeared a bunch of peanut butter on the can as bait. Now, I was not a Girl Scout nor part of 4H growing up, but I felt a bit proud of my 20 minute project. Perhaps it was the beer going to my head?
I left the house and celebrated New Years with some friends. I returned home today to find that my trap worked like a charm. I had caught the mouse! Again, an odd sort of pride welled up in my chest.
I hope that no little visitors of the same species come to grace my home in 2010. However, I suppose that I am now armed with an awesome trap if any do decide to 'drop' by. ;)
Happy New Year!!