My camera is telling me something

One happy me! Love the mountains and the crisp air.

Early in July, I was in La Paz for a week long meeting. Since the city has a lot more technical services than Cochabamba, I decided to take my 'new' camera in for servicing. My older camera was a donation from one of my besties in Wisconsin, but it only takes blurry pictures now. (Seriously, the camera, not the operator!!) When I was home at Christmas, one of my sisters was upgrading her digital camera and kindly gave me her gently used one. I noticed sometime after I received it that an error message was flashing on the screen. When I looked up the error message in my handy dandy instruction manual, it said to take the camera into a Sony store. Hence, I went to a camera repair shop. The man behind the counter asked me how old the camera was, but I had what is probably a familiar blank look on my face and I told him I had no idea. He then said it was old. (What does THAT mean?!) With a sceptical eye, he finally got around to examining the error message and laughingly told me that it would cost me more than the camera was worth to get the camera fixed. Apparently, the flash is bad. Hmph! Fortunately, I have lots of friends who take much better pictures than I do. Maybe I don't really need a camera. It seems like the universe is sending that message!

Theater fun

Just wanted to gush about 'my' kids in the Integration program. We participated as Centro Vicente Cañas in the Festival of Abilities, to highlight the many capabilities that Other-Abled persons. Our small group put on a mimed sketch with the theme of Human Rights. The photos don't really capture how well they all did, but it was very well received by the audience. It was a fun night overall and one of the girls remarked that she no longer feels alone; seeing all the other kids and young adults who were 'just like her' changed her mindset about her situation. For me, it made all the work we put into the event a very worthy cause.

Before presenting the sketch

On stage . . . LIVE!

Quick update on The Dress

Today I received a visit from Martha, my dressmaker. She informed me that my dress would not be ready until December. My jaw must dropped, because she hurriedly added that her teacher wants the dress to be displayed in the fashion show at the end of the year and therefore I cannot have it until afterwards. I explained to her that I could still be in the fashion show, but that I wanted to use the dress in the meantime. Did I really have to wait until December? After all, I paid for the thing! I really couldn't make any sense of the explanation Martha gave me, so now I have to go talk to the teacher of the tailoring/dressmaking course to figure out what is going on. Wish me luck! These conversations usually aren't as easy as I think they'll be.

Adventures? Check. Maybe one too many.

The crew.

Toro Toro in the distance.

Descending.

Waterfalls

If you look really closely, you will see me in the red jacket.

Sliding down a rock.

sleepy town on Saturday morning

Dinosaur tracks!

Last weekend I jumped at the opportunity to go to Toro Toro, a small pueblo nestled in the mountains about 4 hours from Cochabamba. It was an adventure trip - we hiked, explored caverns, climbed down into and then back out of a canyon where there were waterfalls. I really just wanted to get away from Cochabamba, and it was great to breathe in air that was much less polluted, to walk down streets that were practically dog-free, and to get a couple of days off of work. Day one, traveled to Toro Toro all morning, stopping along the way to take pictures. We went to see the waterfalls of Vergel. Walking down a thousand or so stairs was pretty tiring, but it was a beautiful, peaceful spot where we sat for a few minutes. Climbing the stairs on shaky legs was not as much fun. I went to bed right after we finished dinner - I was exhausted! Day two we went hiking around Ciudad de Itas, looking at the rock formations and taking in the incredible views. Had a quick lunch on the road and then climbed down into a cave, where we stretched and twisted our bodies to try to squeeze through cracks and crevices. At one point, we literally had to crawl through a tunnel that was probably only 4 meters long, but it seemed to get narrower and narrower. Luckily I was able to squeeze through without panicking; it reminded me a little too much of the movie Tremors. That night as I was getting in the shower, I noticed my lower right leg was all bit up and starting to blister. I showed the bites to my guide at dinner that night, and he seemed unconcerned, just that it looked like I was having an allergic reaction and if I wanted to, he would take me to the hospital in the morning. (Huh.) I had a fitful rest that night - my leg had started to throb plus I had nightmares about being trapped in a cave without a light. By morning, the blisters on my leg had grown to the size of a dime, but they seemed okay and I didn't want to miss seeing the dinosaur tracks or the morning hike. We climbed up the side of a mountain to see fossil impressions.

fossils and impressions

out-side of leg

Other side.

It was neat, but I paid dearly, and on the descent, I fell behind the rest of my group because I simply could not keep up with their pace as my leg was really throbbing. I was happy I was headed home to Cochabamba that day, and after a long, long trip back, I was finally able to prop my leg up on some pillows and pass out. Sunday I met up with a friend who used to be a nurse, and she referred me to a young doctor from my parish. Unlike my nurse friend, he seemed unconcerned, but agreed to help me see a dermatologist on Monday morning. In the meantime, I went over to the nurse's house where she cleaned up my wound (because the blisters were starting to seep) and gave me some antibiotics because she said that my bites had become infected and did not look good. Better to be safe than sorry, etc.
Monday morning it hurt a little to walk, but I powered though it and mid-morning I went to see the doctor, who said I had a bacterial infection and needed to be on stronger antibiotics than the ones I was taking. I am also on a regimen of soaking my leg twice a day and putting a bunch of topical ointments on it. It is much better now, so don't let the pictures scare you. I am still trying not to itch . . . whatever bit me has put something in my system (or psyche?) and I feel like I am being bit all the time and my skin tingles and itches. Knock on wood, I haven't had any new bites in the last week, so I don't think I brought the mites home with me. But for good measure, I boiled everything I wore during my trip there - including my backpack. :)

My own personal water war, resolved.

Interesting trivia - Cochabamba put itself on the map during the "water war" of 2000 when US company Bechtel privatized the water, the people protested, and eventually the people won and the privatization of water ended. A Hollywood movie came out about it called 'Tambien la Lluvia' starring Gael Garcia Bernal. It has received good reviews. . . You can google it if you want, because my post has nothing to do with it - I just figured it would be a good plug to get people to know a bit about the country I currently call 'home'. Ha.

No, no. My water war has been with my landlords. When I moved into the apartment, they said that I would have to pay water and electric in addition to rent, which seemed fine. What I did not realize was that there wasn't a meter for the water that I was using. This didn't particularly bother me until my landlady knocked on my door one afternoon and told me that I owed 'x' amount of bolivianos for water. Huh. I asked to see the bill, and she showed it to me - a handwritten note from the city water department, which indicated that the amount of water was for the whole house. Since her family also lived on-site, she was paying the majority of the bill and I didn't make a huge stink about the fact that she was basically pulling a number out of nowhere. Then they took on more renters.The water charges I was paying her turned into a crazy amount (Bolivian standards, not US). The new renters had 4 adults and a young child, but only had to pay a fraction more for water than I did, a singleton who was barely ever home. I must've complained enough to my community here because they encouraged me to TALK to my landlady about it vs. saying it was fine when clearly I had issues with the entire process. Confrontation is not my strongest suit, but one day when she knocked on my door, I was sort of prepared to start a conversation. It went something like this:
"Lorena, I just charged Rosa Bs. XX  for water, your share is Bs. XX and I will pay the rest."
Silence on my part; I was thinking and giving her a look. Then - 
"Nelly, will you please explain to me the process you use to calculate how much you are charging each unit in this building?"
Silence on Nelly the landlady's part. For whatever reason this was oddly encouraging, because from the look on her face, I knew I had stumped her.
"What I need to know is why I am being charged 'X' amount. Perhaps if I understand your calculations, it will be clearer to me."
Silence. Her mouth opened but no response came out. I waited another 10 seconds before I went on.
"It doesn't make sense to me that I live by myself, am gone almost all the time, and pay XX while Rosa and her family are here the majority of the time and pay almost the same amount. Do you see why I am asking you how you are calculating costs?"
Nelly found her voice.
"Well, I really don't have a process. I pay the most because my family is biggest, then Rosa pays XX and you pay XX."
"Yes, I see. However, Rosa is also home all day, flushing toilets, washing clothes for the entire family, cooking, cleaning, etc. and using more water than I am. Do you see why I cannot understand why you charge me almost the same amount as her?"
To which Nelly became really frustrated and said, "Fine. Just pay me whatever you want to pay."
Not the point I was trying to make, but I had made a stand and I thought I had gotten my point across. This was late last year. When I got back from my vacation in the States, Nelly came to my door one day in March to ask for money for water. (Occasionally our tank runs out of water and we have to buy it off of water trucks that lumber up and down the avenue, which is a cost separate from city water.) She said that she would pay for half, that Rosa had paid XX and that I owed her the rest. It was the same *non* process as before. I just looked at her for a few seconds and it was like she knew what I was thinking because she said something like, "I can't ask Rosa to pay any more that I already have." And since I was too tired to get into again, I decided to pay her and be done with it.
Fast forward to tonight: My rent was due, plus Nelly the landlady needed to hand over my electric bill. She had also mentioned last week that she had the water bill and she would be visiting me to settle accounts. When she arrived at my door, she had a basic spreadsheet in her hand that laid out a process for calculating water bill costs! Hallelujah! I was prideful enough to think that I had inspired this change. Wroo-oooong - Nelly said that her daughter, who recently entered university level studies in engineering, told her that THEY were paying too much for water and devised a system that was more equal and just for all parties concerned. And it is. I just hope that it lasts. I am sure Rosa has become rather accustomed to her cheap water bills and may protest. Better her than me!
All in all, it was a nice present. :)