Snow at Christmas Time

 

Just wanted you to all to know that we did get snow for Christmas too. Usually it melts during the day, but we keep getting more everytime it rains down in the valley. This snow hung around until more was added the next night. Mount Tunari the tallest in the picture (over 15,000 ft) is about 25-30 miles away from my house where I took the picture.

You Never Know Who You Might Meet On Your Way To.... (The Market)

 

If you only took pictures in one direction or one of the three others, you would never get an acurate view. 360 degrees is necessary. But today is just one direction. A little up the hill (North) and along the road to the east. I meet many other animals besides the dogs when I leave home and head elsewhere. the pigs above make their rounds at least a few times a week. maybe everyday, but I'm not there to check it out.

 

I see the goats maybe more frequently than the pigs, and I like them better as they remind me of Jubilee! The other day I saw a cute girl with two sheep one on a leash. If I had my camera, you would have a picture of a country girl. She was even dressed in the style of the countryside. I would have thought I was in the countryside.

 

Here I am with Mario (my neighbor,6 years old now, he is growing like a weed) and Roxanna one of my favorite kids from the after school program, and lunch program too! She is very helpful. Believe it or not she is 12 years old, she bent over to hug my waist. The third child is Eric, what you can't see him. Check out the number of right hands in the photo. Eric's hand is the bunny ears.

Photos from the Entrada de Sacaba

 

I love this photo. It is so hard to get action shots in real time, without some problem.

 

These guys look like angels! If you could see their costumes head on, you would see how much they weigh, and realize it is a real work out to dance 5 km.

 

Each costume costs a lot to make. Many people rent them for each event they dance in.

 

All ages dance from 3 to 70+. If you are obsessed with your weight this isn't the costume for you. I saw a perfectly skinny person put on one of these, and they looked 30-40 pounds overweight!

Entrada de Sacaba

First I want to say that the photo directly above wasn't even in the running, but by some downloading fluke here it is. In the post above are some of the better shots.

The Fiesta for the Parroquia San Pedro de Sacaba (where I lived my first time in Bolivia) is always in November. The date changes slightly so that the Entrada is always on a Saturday. The entire fiesta is about a week long. The entrada is like the entrance parade. Many groups of costumed dancers of various ages dance for hours along the route. The distance is about 5K from a small chapel to the main church. Dancers get breaks along the way and people offer food and drink.

This year the fiesta coincided with the School of Americas (SOA) Protest in Fort Benning Georgia. I went with my friend Hilda to the fiesta. Hilda had become my boss, when she replaced me as the director of the Childcare Center, when it became obvious I was doing two jobs, and became the administrator.

I shared with Hilda, as we sat in her kitchen chairs along the parade route, about 2 blocks from her house, regarding the protest at the SOA, since it was on my mind that weekend. I especially included the 2004 protest my first one after my return from Bolivia. ( I had been at many between the years of 1997-2001) In 2004, the protest leaders included during the solemn procession, a reading of the list of people, including many children who had been murdered in Bolivia in late 2003, by the army during the protests against the President. It was chilling to hear the names of the Bolivians, who had been murdered while I lived in Bolivia. In 2003 all US citizens were advised by the US Embassy to leave the country. (only a few left)

In the 2004 protest I was carrying a cross with the name of a young Bolivian soldier who refused to shoot at the people in the Main Plaza in La Paz. His commanding officer ordered him to shoot, he refused. The office said if soldier didn't shoot, the offfice would shoot him. He refused and was shot and killed.

In previous protests it felt like we were protesting past massacres to prevent future massacres, by closing the school that trained many soldiers in torture and assasignation of it's country's own people (including most famously that of Archbishop Romero of El Salvador).

In 2004 and subsquent years until 2009, the protest became more personal with the list of Bolivia people. This year again it is chilling again, to be back in Bolivia knowing that the protest to Close the SOA goes on. There will be no solemn procession here, it the festival atmosphere of the puppetistas that rules. The entrada of the Virgen del Amparo to Sacaba, hope and faith rule!

Weeks before I was in Sacaba for the solemn day All Souls. Again with Hilda, we looked for the graves of the children who were buried while I was in Sacaba and to give respect for those that had passed on during my time in Bolivia. I remembered those who were massacred and those who have passed on since my leavetaking.

I Am the Mover of Rocks

The Short Cut From Home To The Main Road(above)

I am the mover of rocks. When people ask me what I do sometimes I want to answer "I am the mover of rocks". Sounds like I am on the chain gang or have a manual labor job, but it is a little different.

I am the mover of rocks, small rocks you can hold in your hand, no bigger than your fist.

I am the mover of rocks, I move them from one altitude to another, sometimes to a higher altitude, sometimes along the same plane, other times I bring them back down again. I do this work almost daily, thus I reflect often on moving rocks.

I am the mover of rocks, I have not spurred any movements or changed the world hardly even my corner. Ii am the mover of rocks, one by one, two by two, sometimes up to four. Later I find them in my "purse", bag or pockets. They line my window sill at times.

I am the mover of rocks, over time maybe landscape will change. They end up in one of three places finally, but they come from all over. I am the mover of rocks.

I am the mover of rocks I say this to myself each day as I choose a stone or two and carry them with me. What is my role here in Bolivia, I am the mover of rocks.

If like the story of the beach strewn with starfish as the tide goes out, I was saving them one by one perhaps my time would have a different meaning.

Each day I say to myself, I am the mover of rocks. It has become a little mantra that has come out in this writing.

I have become something, I am the mover of rocks. I do this every day, I am waiting to pick up the same rock tha I left, but I really don't recognise them.

You are probably wondering why I am moving rocks back and forth, maybe I have an obsession. The answer is very simple, they are for protection from dogs!! Just having them along makes me ready for any encounter. If the dogs see you bending over to pick up a rock, they usually shy away. If there are no rocks, no problem the action of bending over and pretending you are picking it up is also enough to scare them away. I have only had to throw them once or twice, and being Franciscan of course makes me aim near but not at the dogs. They know what it feels like so they run!

My Newest Neighbor

When I moved to Tiqti Sud in June, I joined a family that lives at the Center as caretakers and gate keepers. I can't imagine living here without the family. Doña Severina and Don Marcial have two boys; Mario, who is in kindergarten and Ariel who will be in kidergarten next year. (pictured above)

They of course get free rent, electric and water for their work at the center. In addition Doña Severina is in charge of the "comedor" which translates to dining room or soup kitchen, though a better translation in this case is lunch program. She recieves no pay for this M-F morning work of overseeing the moms who prepare lunch. The only pay is lunch for the family, and if there are leftovers dinner. Severina and moms get this same pay.

Severina was pregnant when I moved into the Center, and someone told me she would give birth anyday. She didn't look very big and when I asked her, she told me the end of June beginning of July. Being blocks from our nearest neighbors, I let her know she could count on me to call a cab to go to the hospital when her time came. I could also accompany her if her husband was working, or take care of the boys if her husband was at home. She seemed relieved to know I was just a knock on the door away. I figured the plan was set.

The Feast of San Juan Baptista arrived June 24. People were lighting fireworks all over the countryside and city. I joined Doña Severina's family outside to watch, hang out by the fire and watch her boys enjoy their family's supply of small fireworks. Severina asked me what the traditional food is for this feast in the US. I had no idea, anyone have ideas? Bolivia's tradition is hot dogs, spelled just like that!! No perros calientes! You could see fires burning in the hills in the distances, sometimes in huge circles maybe 100-300 yards in diameter.

This was the night Doña Severina let me know that she really didn't want to go to the hospital for the birth of her lastest child. She wanted to have the baby here at home! Well that would make my offer of help play out a little differently! I wanted to be totally clear that I had never had a child, nor had I been at the birth of a child. I even missed the births of Chester, Otis, and Elsie (Rhoda the cow's offspring at Jubilee). I was willing to help, key word help in whatever way, maybe hang out with the boys!

Her reasons to have the child at home were that she had had both experiences in the past, and the hospital experience had many problems. I will leaves the details out. No US birth plan here, no clean towels and sheets wrapped in plastic waiting for their time, no midwife, no prenatal check ups, no prenatal vitamins.. okay you get the picture. I must admit I was worried if something went wrong.

They must have thought I wouldn't be much help because within the week, while I was preparing supper, I heard the cry of a tiny baby. Without fanfare Fabiola was born into this world. Her father and her mother's friend Betty attending.

A few short days later I would head back to the US for the death of my father and his funeral. The circle of life revolving around and around. I was glad to get to greet Fabiola, but sad to miss her first month.

As I was headed to the airport, I remembered last minute that I needed someone to take care of my plants. Severina was logical in her nearness, though not because she had so much free time of her hands. As I passed off the plants, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said that she was going to miss me. She is a quiet soft spoken person but when she said that I became all choked up. I would miss her too!.

Faviola is pictured below with me in my apartment. Current update is that she is chubby looking but is actually very light to carry around. She is a happy baby and I rarely hear her cry!

Catching Up

Well it's been a long time since I posted anything on my blog. I am considering doing "Flashback" posts to catch everyone up with what has been happening. Some would say "keep it current", but everything is in the past and sometimes with reflection and hindsight, an event takes on a different meaning, a deeper meaning.

I am in my third home since arriving in Bolivia. The first was with my host family while in language school the first six weeks. The next three months I was at the Franciscan Social Center in downtown Cochabamba. (I wrote an entry on the Center but I have yet to post it. Ah yes flashback posts!!)

My current location is another Franciscan Center. It is part of the San Carlos parish, which is located in the poorer southern zone of Cochabamba. The main parish is "smack dab" in the middle of the cancha, or market place. We are not talking a few blocks here, but what seems to be a never ending vendors delight, dare I say 30-40 sprawling city blocks. Just when you think you've seen it all, you come upon another nook or crany. And yes you can buy just about anything there cheaper then the stores downtown!

My center is one of the 5 centers, that are part of the Franciscan parish of San Carlos, that are located in the hills surrounding the eastern side of the parish. Though the poorest sections of the city, they command a great view of the city, far better than the middle class neighborhood I lived in for language school.

My location is Tiqti Sud (Quechua spelling), or Ticti Sud or Tijti Sud. This not to be mixed up with Ticti Norte, which is as you guessed it on the north (read wealthier) side of town. Though as Ticti Norte is up the mountain, it is not really wealthy.

My neighborhood has electricity but not running water (through pipes, nor wells) nor gas lines. Thus we get a truck of water to fill a huge tank every few weeks, and I buy a tank of gas for cooking. There is no central heat (and of course no A/C) just passive solar and residual heat from cooking, and blankets for the night! This leads to wanting to bathe in the middle of the day during the colder months.

The Center has a chapel where we have liturgy of the word Sundays. We have a before and after school program, lunch program (there is no lunch at the schools), sliding scale dentist and doctor in the mornings, CCD on Saturdays, and space for day retreats. There is a caretaker family in residence and I live alone in the sister's apartment, waiting for new missioners to come! The other Centers have similar programs, there are some additional programs like a day care center at one, and vocational classes at another. At Tiqti we are hoping to begin a garden to help provide some of the produce for the lunch programs. It is the only place that has space for a garden as it is outside the city.

Though I am just outside the city, less then 5 miles from downtown, it can take up to an hour to get there. First I must walk about 1/2 mile down hill (that means I have to walk up to get home, and sometimes with groceries). I then wait for the appropriate transportation. This depends upon which part of the city I want to go to, or which part I want to avoid (or which traffic jam). This waiting can take anywhere from 1 minute to 1/2 hour +, depending on day of week and time of day. Sometimes the desired tansport passes by full every 5 minutes, and then I might alter my plan!

With everything close one might ask, why don't I walk or take a bike. There is only highway without side walks from my bus stop to anywhere I might want to go. Once in the city it is easier to walk around. The steep hills (think San Francisco, with an altitude of 8,500 feet) prevent me from thinking about a bike.

There are buses called Micros, vans called Trufis, and something called a Taxi Trufi, which can be anything from a Toyota Corolla to a 15 passenger van. I can take any of these and pay about 22 cents. A taxi would cost between $2-4.00 depending on how far you want to go. Sometimes I need to transfer from micro to trufi, to get where I want to go, usually one of the other Franciscan Centers. Nothing will take me directly to any of the Centers from my home bus stop. I can get to the Parish of San Carlos directly as it is centrally located.

Well there is a start in catching up with my information. I am going to try to post a couple of pictures of Tiqti Sud. If it doesn't work I'll try again next time.

Visiting Sacaba

I never thought I would be able to visit Sacaba so quickly after arriving in Bolivia, but after recovering from altitude sickness and before I started my classes; I had enough strength to head to Sacaba. Sacaba is the town where I lived and worked the last time I was on mission. Sacaba is about 15 km east of the city of Cochabamba, where I am taking a repaso in Spanish. I currently live in the north, northwest section of Cochabamba. Traveling to Sacaba took almost an hour that day, walking to where I could catch transportation and then waiting for the next Trufi (a 12 passenger van with seats for 15 or more, read: very cramped). This cost me a total of 30 cents!!

I alighted from the trufi in the main plaza of Sacaba, which contains: the church, rectory, mayor’s office, banks, stores and eateries. The usual cast of characters from my time in Bolivia was absent. Don Saturnino was not polishing shoes. Doñas Olga, Amalia & Ercilia were not selling refreshments. Erlinda was not selling ice cream and Doña Berta was not selling mote (a nutritious cooked bean). Where was everybody?

I chatted with a few people I recognized, who sell snacks in the plaza, then headed into the church. A mass was to start in a few minutes and Father Honny was to preside. Padre Honny was the pastor for most of my time in Sacaba. I entered the church filled with joy, I could not believe I was in that dear church again, I think it is one of the most beautiful churches, (sorry Fr. Tom and Fr. David) it is like a tiny cathedral. I was profoundly grateful to God and I soaked it all in. I greeted Padre Honny after mass as well as the sacristan Ariel who had played Santa Claus for us at the Childcare Center.

After mass I tracked down Doña Hilda, who worked with me at the Childcare Center and took over my work as the director. She had so much to show me. I knew that I new center was in the process of being built, which would also include a handicapped center. The good news was that the new center was to open up in a few weeks with the beginning of the school year (beginning of Feb.)

We went first to the old center, where there were quite a few changes since I left, and they were in the process of turning it into a center for Seniors. There was an association of seniors/elders that we would invite to come to the Childcare Center to have a snack and interact with the kids. It had been my idea of a mutually beneficial gathering. Some kids didn’t know their grandparents, because they lived too far away. So too some elders didn’t know their kids or grandkids because they had moved off to other places. It was very precious to see the interactions.

We visited the new center and it was incredibly huge! It also wasn’t finished, they were painting the interior and there were no windows or doors nor bathroom fixtures in place. Since we didn’t have doors and windows in the original center for a few years, I figured it could probably be ready for opening day.

Not only did I arrive in time for mass with Padre Honny, I arrived on the day of the monthly meeting for the Sponsorship Program that I coordinated while I was in Sacaba. This meant a good number of mothers and children would all be in one place for me to greet. Doña Hilda and I arrived for what we thought would be the end of the meeting. It wasn’t over so we continued walking down the road. We waited about an hour and walked back.

As we passed the building, someone spotted us and a flood of women and children came streaming out of the door to greet me. I told them to go back into their meeting and that I would wait, but the flood gates had been broken. The current coordinator, who I had met previously, invited me into the meeting, where she proceeded to introduce me to all, with fanfare and applause. My project had been merged with another so there were some people who didn’t know me.

After the (embarrassing) applause died down, I tried to leave so that they could complete the meeting. She again pressed for everyone’s attention, and for some reason told a brief version of the story of Jasmin (many of you know this story) She told of the little girl I loved so much, whose father brought her to the center, when there really was no room for her. I had accepted her to the Center only to take her to the hospital the next day because she was malnourished and dehydrated (she was just over a year old and weighed only 11 lbs) Her mother had abandoned her and she spent some time on Sundays with me while her father worked.

Again I was embarrassed by her words. Then she let everyone know that Jasmin was in the room. I asked "where?" The moms pushed Jasmin right up to me, and we gave each other a great big hug as tears ran down my face. (more applause) I was so overwhelmed that I could get to see Jasmin so quickly after my arrival in Bolivia. She just turned 8 years old, and she is so beautiful, the image of her father and her grandmother.

I met many of the moms and children after the meeting. All the adults I recognized, but the children had all grown so much. I got some mixed up with their older siblings. Some of the older brother and sisters had turned into young men and women! There were a few more babies to meet. I headed back to Cochabamba leaving lots of promises that I would come to visit everyone, though it will probably take some time. I’ve been back twice, and have met one family in town, but those are stories for another day.

Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday. Dianne, one of my best friends from college, gave me a great Christmas present. A book called A Lenten Journey with Jesus Christ and St. Thérèe of Lisieux, by Fr John Russell, O. Carm. I brought very few books with me, but this one I was very excited about, because it would help me focus on Lent.

I read over some of the preparatory chapters last week. This morning I woke bright and early, to start my Lenten Journey. Each day has the daily gospel reading, quotes from St. Thérèe of Lisieux, a Reflection, and a Prayer.

My reflection began right with the gospel, Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-18, the one that I get stuck on every time it is read on Ash Wednesday. Basically to do your fasting and alms giving, with out blowing your trumpet, for if you do there is your reward. All these things are to be done in secret. (my simplistic version)

Every year I struggle with the receiving of ashes on my forehead. As a ritual and a sign within my Catholic Community it is beautiful and real. It is a commitment to God and one another within the church. The struggle begins as I go out the church door, if I stop at a store on my way home, am I not blowing my horn, that I have been to church??

The opportunity to give alms is constant and on going here in Bolivia. In Sacaba, the town where I was previouly missioned, it hardly ever happened. Here in the city of Cochabamba, there are days that if you actually gave away a coin to each person that asked, you could give away your weekly food allowance. With just a coin that equal to about 15 cents US! 15 cents may not seem a lot to you, but it is a perfectly acceptable alms. You can buy a 12 oz refreshment and a roll. (or 2 rolls) When I last lived here you could buy 5 rolls for 15 cents, the prices have risen drastically for the basics about 100%. The luxury items (soda, cookies) have risen only about 15-20%. Transportation has risen from 0-30%.

Back to the Lenten Reflection. This morning I also reflected on: how I could be a missioner, and follow this gospel. To be able to write a blog and to not toot a horn. Is it possible? I don´t know. Is it a struggle? Yes! I know my goal is not to toot my horn, but to share with whoever wants to read this blog, the stories of the people. To open a window to life in a developing country. If we are all one body, then we are just looking at ourselves, and if we are looking at ourselves, we will see our interconnection.

Abbott Francis Michael said various time to our retreat groups from Jubilee (in years past), that being in the monastery puts him right before God without distractions. I feel in a similar way, that being here in Bolivia, puts me before the face of God constantly, day by day, through faces of the Bolivian people, and through my interactions with them.

May your Lenten Journeys be blessed with a drawing near to God.

A Room With A View

I have a room with a view. I didn´t the last time I lived in Cochabamba. One room had no outside window at all, and the other faced a small closed in patio for washing and hanging dry clothes. I live with Lilian and Teddy a middle aged couple with 3 grown married children, and 7 grandchildren, many of whom come to visit often. They live in a second story apartment, and Lilian´s sister and family live in the apartment below.

From there I can look down to the little yard/garden (about the size of 3 parking spaces) There are many beautiful flowering plants, one that grows up over and along the front wall. Across the street is a convent. There too, beautiful flowering plants and trees poke over the wall for all to enjoy. The rest of the view is full of red spanish roofs and other trees. Far more trees are in my view than any other average location in Cochabamba, I am blessed!

From this room I go.
I go to many places.
The one that connects to the view is the Language Institute.
There are many rooms with a view,
many classrooms with a view.
They are tiny little rooms.
You could squeeze 4 student in,
but two would be more comfortable.
They make the Jubilee classrooms look spacious!
The whole space is a walled in city block, filled with gardens and trees.

I am in the middle of my six week repaso course at the Institute. Repaso being a refresher course. The Maryknoll Institute has some really great teachers. It is really interesting to be on the receiving end of the instruction, instead of teaching. I tend to analyze theory, content and style, for future reference. What is nice about a repaso course is that the team of teachers (4 different teachers every two weeks) are open to requests and even direction, together they evaluate and plan a curriculum just for me!

Estoy Aqui

These are the days that the clouds touch the mountains.

It is summer.
and it is the rainy season.

One day it is hot,
short sleeves, skirts, sandals,
windows open at night.

The next day it is rainy,
cold,
jeans, fleece, raincoat,
a three blanket night.

In the summers past in Bolivia,
a night rain could mean snow in the mountains,
the morning wind would blow the smell of snow,
as puddles lay about the street.

Now I am in the city,
where one can feel closed in,
and forgets to look to the west,
and see if Mount Tunari has snow.