Every day I find the wisdom of Forrest Gump to be truer and truer. Life really is “like a box of chocolates, because you never know what you’re gonna get”. I woke up this morning rushing around to catch a bus to go up to La Paz where I have been planning to meet some friends in order to go hike the Choro Trail in the Yungas for a few days, but here I am writing to you all instead. Turns out there is a bicycle race or something like that so no buses are allowed to travel til later this evening. I love cycling so at least it’s that and not another road blockade and strike, but still! You just never know what you’re going to get.
While those of you in the northern hemisphere are experiencing rain, wind and cold weather, I thought I might share some pictures with you of something you can look forward to doing when spring comes—fly a kite! Back at the end of August (winter here and usually windy but climate changes are changing that norm) the kids at San Carlos made their own kites and then competed with other after-school-program groups one Saturday at the man-made lake in Cochabamba, Laguna Alalay. I was impressed by some of their creativity and how they could make really great kites out of plastic bags for example!
In September Bolivia celebrated its 200th anniversary as a free nation and San Carlos had a little festival/fair one afternoon where each of the 6 centers had a booth with a different theme, such as typical fiestas and the customs, food, history etc. The kids did a good job although if the preparation was like any other event I’ve been a part of, the teachers did a LOT of the work for the kids. It’s quite fascinating how much PRESENTATION is valued over allowing a kid to make something to the best of her/his own ability and imagination. I’ve never been more appreciative of the methodology of my liberal arts education which encouraged critical thinking and making mistakes, than I am now.
As part of my efforts to learn as much as I can about ways to garden, make good use of resources and have a better relationship with the environment, I went to visit a really interesting French man who has been living in the valley south of the city of Cochabamba for more than 30 years, and is a civil engineer, a natural doctor and a very passionate member of the human family.
On the 45 min. drive out to visit him, I found myself feeling more and more relaxed and “at-home” being out away from the city and passing fields, beautiful old eucalyptus trees and the water (man-made dam, but it’s still water!). We walked for another half hour at least to get to his house, which he built himself. He also built a well and an irrigation system, which are proving to be more and more necessary as we’re faced with drought. If you doubt that the climate is changing, just come visit me and talk with just about anybody here. Everyone tells me that the weather didn’t used to be like “this” and it’s really changed a lot in the past 10 to 20 years especially.
I loved learning about his different plants and his bees. There were even peach trees, olive trees, tons of prickly pear cactus, and agave plants. Really a fascinating fellow and he’s also vegetarian…slowly but surely I’m encountering more and more. One of my favorite moments: while walking around in the hot hot sun to look at his plants and vast land, he broke off a piece of a cactus and took a bite out of it, prompting me to then do the same. I couldn’t say no, so I did and it had a very interesting flavor and texture. It was a mix between celery, apple and lettuce. There’s a first for everything.
Speaking of firsts, last month I helped my friend Renee install our first garden with an after-school-program group of 30 very energetic kids. We used the compost we started with them about three months prior (I have pictures of that in another blog entry) to mix in with the dirt that would make up the garden. Oh my gosh, were they excited! We planted about 16 different crops including tomatoes, squash, zucchini, parsley, carrots, chard, and radishes. Just the other day I went by to check it out and overall things are coming along. It’s really wonderful because it’s serving as a model and now there are families requesting that Renee help them install their own gardens, which we’re doing in tires (with the middle part cut out to make more surface space).
Even though I love the composting, gardening and many of the other various things I find myself doing each day, it’s not always a “happy adventure”. In fact, it’s quite challenging, lonely, and difficult many days of the week. A former missioner recently wrote that the first year is the hardest and I breathed a sigh of relief for the affirmation. I hope communication gets easier. I hope I make friends, real friends, the kind who “get” me and I “get” them. I hope I come to understand people more. I hope I learn how to balance. So, while I tend to pick the more entertaining stories and highlights to share with you all, I hope you don’t think I’m living some sort of ideal dreamy sort of life. It’s probably a lot like yours, with a mix of wonderful uplifting moments and really difficult ones too.
Whenever we get a little overwhelmed and in need of a time to refuel, we tend to separate ourselves from our normal environment and take a “vacation” (at least if we’re smart!) so I took a mini vacation to a place in the south of Bolivia called Tarija. Thanks to those wonderful Franciscan monks, wine-making grapes came into the Tarija region centuries ago and enabled me to enjoy some very tasty wine and lovely views of the grape-covered valley.
My roommate and I went to visit a lovely sister from England whom we met while in language school. She was an incredible hostess and on our first day took us to see a little mini-zoo park with gorgeous roses and a variety of animals I don’t normally see.
While my breath was taken away by the elegance and sheer presence of the larger members of the cat family, I couldn’t help feel awfully sad at the same time. Staring at the tiger’s eyes, I sympathized…the tiger was in a place way way way far from her home, in an extremely different environment and just looked so trapped and out of place. Not that I feel trapped because I do want to be here, but many days I would like to at least be able to leave/bi-locate for a little while, and in that sense I do feel a little trapped. I think it’s great to get to see up-close the amazing animals that exist in the world, but the unnaturalness of a tiger in a small cage in Bolivia instead of free and running around Africa made me feel uncomfortable and sad.
I couldn’t stay sad for long because the next day was wine valley visiting day! We went to Valle Concepcion to a winery called “La Casa Vieja” (the old house) where we got to taste various wines, eat lunch and listen to a really great live music group. Just like in the southern part of the United States, in the southern part of Bolivia the music tends to have more stringed instruments like guitars and violins be the prominent sounds—there’s a certain twang in the music that I just love!
A little "I love Lucy" moment
One of the things I miss a lot is the ocean and everything that comes along with it. While I can’t eat North Carolina or Chesapeake Bay crabs with Old Bay seasoning, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to eat soft-shell river crabs. They’re well known in Tarija and served fried (they’re crunchy like popcorn) over kernels of corn (but it’s big white corn, different from what we generally eat in the US food market).
Food is so incredible. It is such a deep part of a place and culture. While little crabs and wine are two of the specialties in Tarija, there are also certain foods that mark the time of honoring the dead. Here in Bolivia, November 1 and 2 are celebrated with much effort and dedication, because these two days are the feasts honoring all the saints (those souls in heaven) and all souls (everyone who has died). These days are preceded by much preparation, preparation of FOOD that is. It’s custom here to prepare the table with lots of fruits, sweets, favorite meals and special bread-dolls. This time every year it’s believed that the souls return to their homes. In order that the souls might be at peace, it’s important to feed them well and place each item with much intention so that the soul may be guided around the table through the various courses and then climb the “stairs” of the palm leaves in order to return to the dead in peace.
The market was packed with cookies, flowers and “tanta-wawas” which is bread dough formed to look like people, representing the person who has died. I took several pictures partly on behalf of my sister studying at the culinary institute of America and partly because it was fascinating to observe.
On Tuesday November 2, we went, like most Bolivians do, to the cemetery. It’s a holiday, just showing again, the importance of honoring the dead here. Someone asked me what we do in the United States and I couldn’t think of anything special besides going to church…makes me reflect on how DO I honor those gone before me?
There are many boys who earn money singing and praying for the deceased at the request of the families who come to visit the tombs.
For the radio program, I interviewed someone from an NGO here that has worked with these boys to educate the cemetery visitors about disposal of the flowers and separation of trash. They just installed large-scale composting in the cemetery itself to utilize the TONS of flowers left at the tombs, instead of trucking them to the dump. Pretty great move I think.
Just outside the cemetery the street was packed with people, tarps, food, drink and memorial displays. Instead of preparing the spread of food at home, some people did it outside the cemetery.
At the end of the visit, I stopped for several minutes, captured by the beauty of the sky. Kind of like life, the sky reminded me that there are moments to be sad and mourn, but there is also always some light and goodness present…don’t you think?
5 things I’m thankful for today: generosity of friends lending me their backpacking gear; unexpected time to get done things I failed to do earlier; conversations with people who understand me; long-awaited success in getting the bar to stay up so that I can finally hang up my clothes; my California red-worm wriggles composting away underneath my sink and the annoying aphids eating the roses in our garden because both have given me a genuine way to bond with my neighbors, the burn-victim kids whose normal interactions with white foreigners involve being given *things* and taken to special places.
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