Culture Collection

Every so often on my walk through life I happen upon an interesting stone that begs me to pick it up, examine it for a bit, smile with amusement and put it in my pocket. I call it my “culture collection”. Thought I might pull some out to show to you.

So here in Bolivia the people are keen on every type of protest. You have your blockades, your strikes, your hunger strikes and your combo style where they do all of the above and everything shuts down for about 24 hours. I poke fun at it but it can lead to violence and putting people’s lives at risk. So I don’t condone it in the least. But I have to laugh because if I don’t find some bit of humor in it I will become a bitter old woman.

Yesterday, as I was out buying a purse, we drove across an intersection to a perfect parking spot just in the nick of time. A street full of protesters was noisily coming up. As we got out of the vehicle my friend asked, “What do we do now?” I said, “We cross the street.” And we walked right through to get to the purse shop with the smell of fresh sulfur from the fireworks filling our nostrils and the din of the crowd filling our ears. The grievance was a recent disagreement in police policies.

Earlier this week there was a march in which all the protesters had in their hands empty pots and pans. As they banged along they were hoping to find some solution for the recent rise in grocery prices due to an over-abundance of rain that had ruined much of the crops.

This morning we had a good laugh as we were coming back from our trip up and down the steps of the Cristo. My friend tells me that she was trying to go do her running around down town a couple of days ago and there was a blockade on one of the streets. She asked what the complaint was and they told her that they wanted the city to put more street lights on the street.

Sometimes they take turns protesting. The groups get together and one says to the other, “Hey, Tuesday we are going to have a strike because gas prices are going up.” And the others say, “Oh, we wanted to have a hunger strike that day because our company hasn’t paid us in about six months, but I guess we can wait until Wednesday.”

It was amazing to me when the prisoners in the prison had a hunger strike because they wanted a different warden.

Every once in a while the national news gets wind of an especially vocal group standing up for their cause. Then we get emails and phone calls asking us if everything is ok because they saw on the news that there were blockades. Usually I respond saying, “Oh, what are they complaining about this time?” In the six plus years we have lived here there hasn’t been a week that has gone by that there was not a public protest of some sort. So often is this the case that my language teachers so many years ago taught me a vocabulary group that included all the different words for the styles of protests that exist in this beloved Bolivia.

Ok, I am putting my stones back in my pocket. Maybe I will pull them out and show some different ones to you another time.

Backyard Adventures

Just 15 minutes from our home sprawling on the side of a mountain lays Tunari National Park; this was our fun Friday destination today. The sun shone on my children’s way as they headed out on the trail to adventure and exploration. For an entrance fee of just a buck fifty we will be back again; and next time with a picnic lunch. Here are some snapshots from our morning.

Bearing Gifts

We have a gal here with us who will be teaching in the bible school network for a month. She brought us down goodies! Yeah! And my sneaky Thumbbuddy (Danielle) sent some cookies down with her for us. :o) I feel super loved!

We get the regect Chips Ahoy down here. Every package I have bought have seemed over baked. The ones pictured here are yummy! And notice the plethera of Peeps! Yeah - Peeps Party Central!

Nothing like the real thing when it comes to diaper cream.

A coffee grinder!

Video Tour of Ministry Office

Have you got 7 ½ minutes to spare? My husband made a video tour of the ministry office and posted it on our web site. Later he will have the tour of the orphanage and the church up but he started with this one because this is where we start our real life tours. You get to see a glimpse of the busy street called America out front. See if you can guess what the lady carrying the tall pastel colored thing is selling. Also you can see that right by the gate there seems to be a pile of vegetables. There is a little old lady who sells her wares there every day. The tour is pretty cool if you ask me.

Click here to watch: http://christnationministries.org/English/videoblogdaronn.html

Tea

As a woman living in Bolivia I have learned the skill of a “tea”. It usually takes the place of a light dinner at about 6 in the evening. Ladies trickle in and the sound gradually increases as all the friends converge around the table in a home or at a local tea-house. Coffee and tea are served along side breads, pastries or other baked goods. If the ladies have brought food to share what is politely left on the plate stays at the house. In the same fashion the confidentialities shared also do not leave the confines of the intimacy of the companions; at least in noble theory if not in practice.

Age old traditions are observed such as serving the cool refreshment beverage that precedes the actual tea drinking on a tray and never with your hands. A tea spoon is to be provided in place of the larger soup spoon or there will be furrowed eyebrows. Children are welcome to pick and choose off the table as they please seeing as they are adored and by no means disdained among these people. Though it is fashionable to arrive half an hour to forty five minutes passed the appointed hour it is expected that the group depart all at the same time.

The intricacies of conversing at a tea are details that one must develop only after repeated exposure with an attentive ear to the timing, volume and topics addressed. The only interruption permitted is that of a proper greeting which consists of a kiss on the cheek for every person present. Kisses aside, great respect is demonstrated in that the thorough stories that could be easily described as speeches by those unfamiliar with a Bolivian tea are listened to completely.

Common topics touched at almost every tea: children, women stuff (complete with at least one labor and delivery story), light gossip and maids. The Spanish word for maid is ‘empleada’. You should see the emotion on the women’s faces when this topic is finally brought to the table. So today I welcome you to my table for tea. This very Latin introduction has been so that I can talk with you about my maid, or former maid to be more precise.

She has been with us for over three years. The kids love her dearly. She actually did very good honest work. Just these last few months she has repeatedly missed days, asked for extra time off and simply disappeared. So she finally called the other day to let me know that she was done. I guess I can’t blame her. Right now she needs to give her own family attention. Both her parents are sick and she is the middle child of 12. Only a few of the siblings have jobs. Their pay checks sustain the rest of them. So she will go and I will probably never see her again in my life. Such is the case with ‘empleadas’.

And now we need to decide where to go from here. It is clear that if I am going to continue to be involved in ministry outside of my home that I will need to have help. Simple house hold tasks take so much longer to accomplish without automated everything. The thought of the hunting, trial period, decisions and training time makes me sigh.

You are to be commended if you have read this far and you are still interested. This talk would have been much more in depth and fraught with emotional descriptions and compassion invoking examples had I been addressing Bolivian women. And it will be next time I sit down with my chicas. Bottom line is please pray for me during this transition time. It is a good thing to have the challenge of choosing the right helper.

Thanks for sharing tea with me today.

Startling Realization

This weekend I was tooling around in the truck with my friend Marisol. As we drove by an interesting shop I made an impulse decision and parked so we could check it out. Holding my daughters hand the three of us crossed the street to pop in and see what they had. It was a girls shop complete with perfumes, jewelry, trendy clothes and hand bags. Being the conscientious friend that she is Marisol casually asked, “Did you ever get a new purse like you said you needed to?” She was making reference to the fact that I had shared with her a couple weeks ago that all my purses were falling apart. Informing her that I had not done so we chatted about hand bags for a bit which led to a startling realization…

“I have never in my life purchased a purse!” I exclaimed as we left the shop. “Every purse I ever used has been given to me.”

I have bought back-packs, diaper bags, shopping bags, change pouches, wallets, clutches and God knows how many pieces of luggage of all shapes and sizes; but never a purse.

To go along with this post I am including a link to a rather funny web site that I have found: http://www.bagborroworsteal.com/ . From this site you can rent designer brand hand bags. You woulda thunk it?

Washington Girls