Cupcakes!

Based on the comments that I recieve, many of you view my experiences here as positive and many of you also believe that I get sick a lot. I thought briefly of cataloguing the times I wrote that I was sick with a brief explanation but decided against it because besides my three-month wicked snot-fest, I have been okeydokey and parasite-free. And things really are going well here but I gotta say that this past month has been inexplicably rough. Let´s see if I can inject some humor into it so you can get a taste of my crankiness without lobbying for me to come home.

In college, I had a theory that whenever I had one of those days that everything went wrong, the cafeteria would serve cupcakes. Or maybe because there were cupcakes I had a bad day. Who knows?

So last I wrote, I was in La Paz translating a document for USAID. I hate translating. Odio traducir. Seriously, people who don´t even speak English will argue with you. "Are you sure that´s the right word?" I got to meet the official US Embassy translator. He was...interesting. He was shocked to see that I was a young punk in jeans and a t-shirt and I was shocked to see that he sported an 80s rocker hairstyle. He spoke verrrry slowly and didn´t seem to grasp the concept that you can´t translate directly...and that spell check is essential. Also a bummer, I swear it was hailing in La Paz...and if you´ll recall I didn´t have shoes.

La Paz got a little better after I found a little taco place, finished my work and bought some new shoes. I decided to stay the weekend and chill and headed off to an art museum. All the artists were Bolivian and the house itself was splendiferous. At first the guide talked to me in pidgin Spanish. I swear he pointed at me every time he said "you." After about five minutes of this, and a more or less fluent question from me, he went off. I learned more than I will ever need to know about Bolivian artists. (well. maybe not) I was also invited back to a new gallery opening. I think at this point he may have been hitting on me. After the museum I got Chinese food and ice cream....which I mention only cuz it was spectacular. Friday my friend came into town and we went to the cemetery to check things out for Día de los Santos. Bolivian families go from house to house eating (Trick or Treat almost) and then to the cemetery to eat, drink, pray etc. The tradition is to bring loaves of bread shaped like babies. They´re called t´antawawas which means bread baby in Quechua. My friend actually brought me two! Cemeteries in Bolivia are a bit different. The graves are like cubby holes, stacked on top of each other. Because La Paz is a big city they are about two stories high or maybe 12 cubbies stacked up. I tried to ask about the general hygiene of that but was afraid it might seem morbid. Still curious though. And sorry, no photos. I wasn´t sure how disrespectful it would be because neither my friend nor I have anyone buried in that cemetery. Saturday we went up to Lake Titicaca and Copacabana. So pretty. For lunch I had trout. That afternoon we went back into the city to the market which was scary and big and crowded where I felt ill...fever, aches. So I went to my hotel and to bed. The next day I slept pretty much all day: in the taxi to the airport, in the airport, on the plane, in the taxi to the bus terminal, on the bus, all night.

Here´s where it gets fun. Monday, back in my site, I felt more or less fine. I went to the schools like I had originally scheduled and they told me that they hadn´t been informed that I´d be out of town (aaaaaaaaaah!) and therefore wanted to postpone our thrice-postponed class (aaaaaaah!). I felt wholely unreliable. That night I swear my fever was so high that I lost a few brain cells. I spent all morning calling the clinic, the doctor, the doctor´s wife until I finally got an appointment. I had salmonellosis! Figuring I wouldn´t recover overnight, I called the school to postpone our four-postponed class. (My co-workers came to visit me and asked me not to tell my parents that I was sick because then they´d think Bolivia is a horrible place.) So word, as it tends to do, got around that I was sick, and the family who feeds me every Monday and Wednesday offered to feed me Thursday too because they were afraid I´d restrict myself to crackers and rice and bananas and starve. (The family is of the Adventist pastor and I teach their 9-year old English. He´s one of my favorite people.) Sooooo I went to walk with the Pastor to his house on Thursday because they have a mean mean dog but he left without me so that when I arrived at the house the dog bit me on the knee. I hit it (to disengage its teeth from my flesh), yelled at it, and promptly burst into tears. The family came home to find me in the patio, crying and wheezing with the dog facing me barking.

Late that week I realized I lost my bank card, I snapped my glasses in half and a mean German priest yelled at me in front of a small group of Bolivians. I had neglected to greet him when I walked into the church hall and he of course attributed my rudeness to being an American and just had a complete cow. He made me cry. My crying prompted a sympathy response of many people telling me what shmo he is and recounting all the other mean things he´s said in the past.
Other sad things included my pension closing. I chose the pension cuz my friends eat there, they always have vegetables and Don Julio takes special care to explain to me what exactly is in the meals. Once, when he only was serving guinea pig, he offered to cut the meat off the bones for me so that I wouldn´t have to deal with a guinea pig carcass on my plate. (I had soup instead)

Lets see. I also got a wicked sunburn. I had to go to the funeral of a small boy. And when I showed up to the school on our scheduled day, they had no idea that I had rescheduled with the director and they postponed yet again (aaaaaaaaaaah!). In fact, a kiddo came up to me and asked why I had "failed" his class by not showing up twice. And now my favorite nine year old and his family are moving away! And my favorite technico was in a motorcycle accident!

Things aren´t all bad. My favorite technico is alive and kicking with at least one leg. We had a party for Don Julio. I have spare glasses and a new bank card. I FINALLY did the class. The second graders were a disaster but the fourth graders rocked my socks and were so excited about planting seeds that they actually showed up on a Saturday and stayed way longer than they needed to. In total we planted about 70 seeds to grow trees. I got to visit my two schools in the campo. In one all the kidlets were so excited to show me that their plants were more-or-less surviving (corn and watermelon) and they practiced their environmental poem for me. They presented the poem at our environmental fair. In the other school we read the Lorax and wrote the end of the story in 10 years time. I went back by popular demand to play some team-building games. I did some footwork to let teachers know I´ll be here next year and that we should plan a curriculum when school starts again. And I met all the technicos in the mayor´s office. My English class has 5 more or less dedicated students. (If they miss a class they have to bring snacks. I eat well.) Oh and Thanksgiving rocked!

Just so y´all know, the political situation here is getting a bit hectic.
Protests and paro civicos continue (although not where I live) and I have to call Peace Corps every day to verify that I am indeed alive and well....which I am. Don´t worry.

The Adventures of Super Lenni

The last we saw our intrepid hero she was waiting with bated breath (what the heck does that mean anyway?) to see if her students actually remembered to bring their planting supplies to school....Many adventures have transpired since then.

First our brave volunteer encountered 40 shovel-wielding 4-year olds who had high hopes of planting a garden. She set them to work mixing dirt...because what kidlet isn´t capable of dirt mixing....and successfully created a small garden of lettuce and radish. (Well the seeds were more or less successfully planted. Whether or not they survive under the excessive ministrations of the Kinder remains to be seen.) The very next day Super Lenni mounted her trusty steed and pedaled out to the campo...where they were totally not expecting her. She decided to stay to hang out with the kids, dance, play basketball and just generally celebrate the Dia de Mujer. Unfortunately danger lurked in the form of a drunken community member waiting to ambush our hero and the directora of the school and invite them to get shnakkered. But using their powers of divination (or something) both Lenni and the Directora escaped back to their respective houses without having to participate in any raucously drunk celebrations.The drunk community member is still emotionally wounded by this slight but our hero is pretty sure that she wouldn´t be able to withstand the torture of explaining her feelings about Bolivia or Evo Morales repeatedly.

Super Lenni returned to the campo the very next week to visit a new community (unfortunately for her having to carry her stupid bike up several flights of stairs, across a river and through large piles of sand...next time taxi) and to teach a class about trees. She is pretty sure that some learning was had by all. Lenni also had an encounter with the local gang of kidlets who said "If you don´t come to play with us on Sunday...WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE."

The very next week, our favorite volunteer decided to take a trip to outside Sucre with the grand purpose of helping a fellow volunteer with a puppet show and pizza party. Unfortunately Bolivia is kryptonite to well laid plans and our hero hasn´t done anything planned since then. Instead of leaving on Tuesday, she endured a suprise meeting with her Peace Corps boss. Wednesday (instead of leaving) she endured a surprise meeting with the Mayor, or would have if he had showed up. Instead of making it all the way to her friends town on Thursday she only made it to the city of Sucre due to blockades and the like. This was fine with our hero cuz she was tired and wanted a pizza and a warm bed.

In the grand white city of Sucre (which by the way is Super Lenni´s favorite city now) she met up with her BBT who turned out to be very enthusiastic tour guide. As a result, our hero got to see the Casa de Libertad where Bolivia was born, the castle of the only princes in South America, several thousand churches, dinosaur tracks, the watchtower above the city, the eiffel tower, the national archives, and the first bank, train station and university in Bolivia. She also got to visit several mechanics and battery shops, eat lunch with his family, and have some quality gringo time with other volunteers.

Two noteworthy things: 1. Foriegners have to pay triple the price to get into museums than do Bolivians. Our superhero, defender of justice, had a bit of a cow and yelled a bit about it until she hit on the bright idea of showing her Bolivian ID card. (The definition of Bolivian in the case of entrance fee extends to all who look remotely Latino)
2. What was the second thing? I think it was that while lunching with the family..who were sort of elitist and rude to the wait staff, our hero ran into her old sidekick from Camargo. She leaped out of her chair yelling greetings and hugging him and no one mentioned this strange occurence until about 20 minutes later "Do you know him?"

On the way back to Camargo, our hero was waylaid by her counterpart agency who wanted to send her to La Paz to translate something. That is where our hero remains today...translating a stupid document while enduring a slight altitude-headache. Because she was trapped en route to her home (ie on the bus in the city of Potosí) our hero doesn´t have shoes with her (just Tevas) and is also lacking clean underwear. Such is the hero´s life. But perhaps she´ll stay the weekend here for a bit of vacation.

cancellations, boredom, and nekkid kidlets

I just finished reading "Nine Hills to Namonbahka" which is the account of a Peace Corps Volunteer in Cote D´Ivoire (West Africa for my geographically disinclined friends). I tell you all this to adress those of you who hope that I will write a book about my own experiences... Sorry, not gonna happen. Although I´m quite sure that the author (Sarah Erdman) edited out many of those typical Peace Corps days of sitting around doing nothing, I´m not sure the rest of my days warrent a full-length book. The blog will have to cut it.

Let´s see.... Two weeks ago, I was invited to several schools for their environmental fairs. Each class presented experiments, posters, and even some skits to illustrate the importance of water. My personal favorite was a group of kidlets who each dressed up representing the different departments of Bolivia and gave a short speech. I would have liked this even more if, as honored guest, I didn´t have to sit in front of the stage in the blazing sun but everyone involved did a splendiferous job writing up 10 commandments of water, or presenting skits on how to save water and why not to poop in and/or drink out of the river etc. The students of one particularly ferocious nun actually went to the offices of the company building our new road to check out their anti-pollution practices (sadly nonexistent).

This same week the Peace Corps Doc came to visit my place to make sure that I´m using my mosquito net, not eating lettuce, and being generally happy and healthy. I took her out for chicken...or actually she paid for my chicken...and then we walked to my English class where my bud Osvaldo told me he had no idea there was going to be English class. Let me explain, Osvaldo is the security guy at my agency so he usually knows what´s going on in the building. He is also the main person to pester me about starting classes so for him not to know that we were starting was kind of frustrating. But the Doc, Osvaldo and I hung out until two students showed up. It went well but due to a big meeting, we haven´t had classes since then. My students picked what time they wanted classes but many people have told me that it´s too late at night...not sure how to deal with that. Then I escaped to the city where I got yet another vaccination, went dancing with the cute Argentinians, and got rather ill. (All better!)

I got back to town in time for my Spanish lesson but my teacher had gone somewhere else for what was explained to me as "an emergency." So I had time to gather sand (weird gringa hanging out in river) for my Monday tree-planting! I had just returned to my room when one of the teachers showed up to tell me that they wanted to postpone afore-mentioned tree planting. So I had time to work on my talk on reforestation for the kindergarden profes! That talk went really well. Everyone seemed interested and if nothing else they learned that trees NEVER breathe out carbon dioxide. A popular wives tale in Bolivia is that plants produce oxygen during the day but CO2 at night. For this reason, you shouldn´t have a plant in your room because it can kill you. So I tried to dispel this myth. I also taught them some games and activities to use with the kidlets and learned that you should never use fertilizer on violets.

The next coupla days I worked with the kids, presenting a puppet show and some games on the parts of trees. As my counterpart said "You need patience to work with kindergarden." Of course he then added "Do you even have patience?" I´m very patient damnit! As a perk to working with the youngins I now have 120 small children who know my name and point me out to their parents whenever I walk by. This Friday we´re going to plant seeds (she says with optimism that they´ll actually remember to bring the needed supplies.)

Saturday I had a day that will never ever make it into my Peace Corps book. I was so very bored out of my skull. I recently bought a TV and had watched about as many dubbed movies that I can take. I had bought gas for my stove, washed my dishes, and folded my laundry so I decided to go take photos of the market and town. This resulted in a small posse of children posing for me and some very cute photos. Then I escaped to the plaza where I ran into my friend Lino, a German volunteer. He mocked me because he always seems to find me in the plaza doing nothing. (That is because he´s only around on Saturdays.) As is typical in Bolivian Spanish conversation he asked me "Where have you lost yourself" because we haven´t seen each other in months. As is typical in Bolivian Spanish I answered, "here. there." About two seconds later one of the nuns ("Hola monja!") walked by and asked Lino where he had lost himself. I find this question rather irritating in the scheme of things. For one, I am often asked by people who have my phone number and/or know where I live. Come find me! Also, it is often the other person who is missing. The other day my neighbor, who had been in La Paz for the past month asked me.

Change of subject. Sunday I went to hang with the kidlets in the church hall. I brought playing cards and Harry Potter. Several children followed me home despite a deep-seated fear of my dog. (I think I will exaggerate the size of his teeth to discourage future visits. But really, he´s an ancient German Shepherd.) Anyhoo, we were hanging in my room, touching every single one of my belongings, watching my tv, and drinking my water (I am very possesive) when the little boys disappeared. I left my room to hear the water running and a small pile of clothing outside of my bathroom door. Goodness! Naked little boys showering in my house! When everyone was fully clothed I kicked them out because I´m cruel like that. They asked me to forgive them and to not throw them out and promised to come back at 3. I mentioned this occurence to the Principal of the Kindergarden who had remarked on the posse traipsing through our patio and she said that it was great that they got to shower. So apparently it isn´t quite as bizarre as I thought it was.

Sunday night I was invited to a talent show at the high school. Two of my friends were singing so I suffered through several hours. I think my favorite (besides my friends) was a comic re-interpretation of Hotel California in Spanish and Quechua about a guy who had a child out of wedlock. However, talent shows in whatever language are painful and most of the evening was spent listening to the crowd insulting the acts.

My class on trees for a school in the campo was postponed due to yet another paro civico or as my friend Doña Horti calls them "dias de flojo." This particular lazy day was to urge the highway company to come back sooner to finish their work. Oddly, the teacher seems to have foreseen this because when we made plans weeks ago she said "Come on Tuesday but if you can´t Thursday is fine." So Thursday and Friday, more trees. Woot!

And thre shall be much arm-ripping

May I rant?

Ok. So yesterday I was in the office of my counterpart (checking flight times for Christmas) when he came in and told me that because I apparently have no time for (or interest in) working in the vivero (tree nursery) they have hired a new person in charge on behalf of the organization. (The mayor also has a person in charge but he does nothing)

When I first got to site I went to the tree nursery and found that the ladies who work there already know how to do the basic stuff. I couldn´t think of any way to help the production of the vivero (mostly because I also only know the basics). I explained this to my counterpart, adding that my general area of expertise is education. But to please him I asked for more information about the types of trees grown, the treatment of seeds. I also asked for a copy of their plan and the registro where they record all the data. I was told that the viverista (guy in charge) had most of this information...but he´s never around. I found this a smidge odd because the viverista actually asked me for a lot of this info that he was sposed to already have. I was NEVER given any information on their general plan of operation or timeline or anything. (As I recall I was told "we need 4000 plants") I tried to help them out by drawing a map of the vivero, doing a FODA to get a baseline, and finally to offer workshops on the stuff that I know that they don´t (honestly not much but important stuff) but my counterpart seemed more concerned with "branding" the vivero as USAID funded. Too little too late I guess.

Now my counterpart has hired someone, given her all the necessary information and told her what they need from her...including a plan, a registro of data and a general chronogram. AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!! My counterpart said to me "I asked you to go to the vivero, I practically begged you and you did nothing."...at which point I freaked out a little bit.

To be honest, I don´t really want to work in the vivero. It´s probably better that they´ve hired someone local who actually has experience in this sort of stuff....but I´m PISSED. I can´t help if I don´t know what they want! Is this a warranted reaction?

Also, the mayor´s office has asked me to help educate some people on the mini-vivero in one of the schools. My counterpart told me that he "would be very angry" if I agreed to help out with this vivero but not with his. Hopefully I explained adequately that my responsibility was to be education and not the actual manual labor. But again I could have ripped his arms off.

That has been my rant.

Shall I lighten the mood? Sunday as I walked to the market to drink an api (purple quinoa drink served hot) I counted 8 people with eye patches. EIGHT! Then I went to get a hamburger and BOTH the people who work at my pension had eye patches too! Unfortunately for y´all the explanation isn´t as glamorous as act-like-a-pirate day, or an eye-stabbing maniac on the loose but rather the Cuban doctors in town are giving free surgeries for cataracts.

Today I feel much better by the way after meeting my new Spanish tutor, planning some activities in the kindergarden, and watching the técnico from the Mayor´s office get yelled at by three people at once. I thought I was the only one totally frustrated with him...it was great!

Yippe-iy-kay-ay!

I took advantage of the Sunday afternoon descanso (rest) to write this. At this time of week/day there are fewer snot-nosed little boys in the internet cafe. As much as I love children, I sometimes have NY moments where I can´t stand my personal space being invaded.

Don´t know if y´all have been watching/reading the news but there has been some interesting happenings here in Bolivia. As you may or may not know, Bolivia has two capitals. La Paz has the legislative and executive branch and Sucre has the judicial. At the moment, an assembly is rewriting the constitution in Sucre. Also, they are protesting pretty hard-core to bring the other two branches of government to the city. This has resulted in protests, blockades and even a paro civico where everything in the country was closed. The paro civico affected me personally because for the first time in a week I had hot water for a shower but no soap...which I couldn´t buy because everything was closed. Sigh. I live in the same department (state) as the city of Sucre and like all volunteers here have been prohibited from going there until at least Monday. But things here (8 hours south) are normal. By the way...protests, blockades, and such are pretty normal here because the people of Bolivia don´t have the traditional means of appealing to the government. Lobbying, letter-writing, and petitions are mostly useless. You can read about the current sitch here

So my birfday passed pretty much normally. I had one gringa friend (Stephanie) and one Bolivian friend come over for dinner and card games and then we went out dancing. My other Bolivian friends kinda bailed on me. Ah well.

This past weekend (Sept 1) I went to a rodeo (!) in Yacuiba. Wednesday evening Stephanie and I met to take a bus down to Tarija. Usually this trip lasts about 5 hours. However, we left at about 9 and didn´t arrive in Tarija until 3AM. The ride was bumpy, slow, and absolutely freeeeeezing cold. We were both rather cranky upon arrival and I found myself wishing for an all-night diner. No such luck. The very next night at 5PM, we hopped on a bus with some of the other Tarija volunteers to Yacuiba. About an hour outside of Tarija the bus broke down so we sat there for a while. We arrived in Yacuiba at about 7AM. Once again the ride was absolutely freeeezing cold and from what I could see out the window....scaaaaaary. Anyhoo, we met up with about 10 other volunteers and went to breakfast, slept until lunch and then went out to Palmar Chico where the rodeo was. We hung out, eating, dancing, drinking and then headed over to the arena. I was quickly adopted by a group of girls who taught me how to dance the Chacarera. The next day we watched the vaqueros lasso and brand cowies. There was a bullfighter and some traditional dancers too. Apparently, I missed the part of the rodeo where they bury ducks in the ground and then whack their heads off. I wanted to see that just because it seems too outrageous to believe. Then we went to a volunteer´s house for a huge barbecue. Some of his friends sang for us which was very cool. Then we returned to the arena to dance until it was time to go home. My time to go home came very soon after my dancing partner dropped me while dipping me. My backside is still sore. Really, the whole experience is hard to describe so you´ll have to check out the photogs. (When I finally upload them) In all, it was great fun to hang with the other volunteers who I never get to see, visit another part of the country and dance my little legs off.

Work: This week I started planning lessons with two teachers on the subject of trees. We´ll be working together in the school garden too. I had a meeting with all the ladies in the tree nursery to do a SWOT analysis. The ladies decided that they want me to give them a class on how to do stuff like mix dirt, treat seeds etc. (They even scheduled it!) I´ve also finally set up days and times for my English class so every Tuesday and Thursday night I´ll be getting my language on. I have been tutoring three people in English but this will be a switch to a full-size class of adults.

Sunday I went to the parroquia to hang out with the kidlets. (They begged me to) The parroquia is where the priests and nuns live and where they have chorus practice and youth group and stuff...like a church hall I guess. So I read the story of Esau and Jacob to the kidlets, served some breakfast and then we went to visit Doña Vincenta. She´s a woman who lives in our town and is apparently semi-paralyzed. It looked to me like a stroke or cerebal palsy but I´m not trained in that sort of thing. Anyhoo she was pleased to have 20-odd kids in her house singing to her. One of the other woman who volunteers with the kids asked me to come on her radio show to explain what the heck sort of work I´m doing here. So that should be good if not entirely nerve-wracking. She´s also a kindergarden teacher and wants me to do some stuff with her students.

That is approximately all. Been doing a lot of cooking and have read a surprisingly large amount of books recently...Harry Potter (surprisingly good and at one point terrifying when a herd of cats was running across my roof yowling), Ethan Frome (sad), A Thousand Splendid Suns (sad), Cheese Monkeys (not sad).

Survey saaaaaays

I found this so amusing that I couldn´t resist. Here´s a glimpse of life in Bolivia.
1. What kind of soap is in your bathtub right now? Bathtub! hahahah! But I have Irish Spring that I brought from the States
2. Do you have any watermelon in your fridge? Nope. But I had one this weekend.
3. Is there anything moldy in your refrigerator? It´s not really my fridge but I hope not. Although the guac I made prolly is.
4. Are there any dirty dishes in your sink? For once there aren´t.
5. What would you change about your living room? What living room? I only have one room.
6. Are the dishes in your dishwasher clean or dirty? Dishwasher. Hahahahaha.
7. Do you have a can of mushrooms in your pantry? No pantry here. But if I had one, there would never be a can of mushrooms in it.
8. White or wheat bread? Whatever they sell across the street. It hink they have both but they´re not loaves.
9. What is on top of your refrigerator? a jar of honey, a candle, a book about the bible.
10. What color is your sofa? I don´t have a sofa. I have a mattress that I arranged to resemble a sofa and it´s blue striped.
11. What color or design is on your shower curtain? shower curtains are completely unheard of here. One showers under the faucet between the sink and the toilet getting everything wet in the process.
12. How many plants are in your home? 0 apparently flowers kill you in your sleep.
13. How many candles are in your home? 2 in tuna cans for when the lights cut
14. Is your bed made right now? never --->
15. If you have a coffee pot, what color is it? I have a tea pot. Does that count? It´s white.
16. Electric or standard can opener? I use a Leatherman.
27. Comet or Soft Scrub? Bleach.
28. Is your closet organized? I don´t have a clost. I did but it kept falling apart spilling all my clothes on the floor. So now I just leave my clothes in piles on the floor. Soon I´ll have crates to put stuff in.
29. What color is the flashlight that you use the most? My headlamp is black and blue
30. What kinds of things are in your junk drawer? I don't have a junk drawer. I have a junk box with a travel mosquito net, various electrical adaptors, money, passport (not exactly junk I guess)
31. Do you drink out of glass or plastic most of the time at home? My nalgene or a tin tea cup.
32. Do you have iced tea made in a pitcher right now? Nope. But that sounds fantastic.
33. If you have a garage, is it cluttered? No and no.
34. Curtains or blinds?I have frosted windows that are covered in a Sureña (local beer) tapestry, a picture of the Virgin Mary and a mirror
35. How many pillows do you sleep with? 1
36. Do you sleep with any lights on at night? Nope.
37. How many ceiling fans are in your home? 0
38. How often do you vacuum? Never. I´m not sure I´ve seen a vacuum in 7 months. But I do wash my floor about once a week. Damn dust.
39. Standard toothbrush or electric? Standard.
40. What color is your toothbrush? blue and yellow and by mistake I bought a kids brush.
41. Do you have a welcome mat on your front porch? No. But I don´t really have a front porch. I have a big gate and if you get past that and the big dog there´s a patio.
42. What is in your oven right now? A baking pan.
43. Is your microwave clean or dirty? I don´t have a microwave. But they are not completely unheard of.
44. Is there anything under your bed? suitcase, backpack, 12 hangers, broken closet, empty boxes, papers to reuse
45. Chore you hate doing the most? Cleaning the bathroom.
46. What retro items are in your home? The tv is black and white and has dials...it doesn´t work well so I barely watch it.
47. Do you have a separate room that you use as an office? I have only one room that is my bedroom, kitchen and living room. I share a bathroom with 4 people and my neighbor has been kind enough to give me the keys to his kitchen which I use to entertain or teach English in.
48. If you have a yard, who mows it? Grass lawns are a completely foriegn concept and let me tell you I miss it. It´s also illegal to lay on the grass in the main plazas but I am often tempted. Actually in the house in Cocha we had a lawn and my host dad weed wacked it. He actually had a weed wacker! Or he used a machete.
49. Is there anything on your kitchen floor right now? In the area that serves as my kitchen there is a tank of compressed gas and a box full of garbage bags on the floor.
50. How many mirrors are in your home? 2.
51. Do you have any hidden emergency money around your home? yes.
52. What color are your walls? Pink.
53. Which rooms in your house have wallpaper? None of them.
54. Do you have a peephole in your front door? Nope. ¿Quien es?
55. Do you keep any kind of protection weapons in your house? Nope
56. What does your home smell like right now? Steph says it smells like powdered donuts but now I think it smells like Oscar cuz he sent a letter scented with his cologne (How Latino)
57. Fave candle scent? vanilla, evergreen.
58. What kind of pickles (if any) are in your refrigerator right now? Fuck. pickles. Those sound fuckin fantastic.
59. Who are in the pictures you displayed? liz, mary, joe, mom, dad, gram, evan, elena, dean, thinium, katie, michelle, trisha, laura, court, shimon, all 28 of my peace coprs group, Jesus, Mary 60. What color is your favorite Bible? my favorite?
61. Do you have plenty of cabinet space in your kitchen? Regrettably, no.
62. Ever been on your roof? Nope.
62. Do you own a stereo? Nope.
63. How many tvs do you have? 1 but it's not mine.
64. How many house phones? None.
65. Do you have a housekeeper? Don't I wish.
66. What style do you decorate in? Peace Corps chic. Anything that is utilitarian and fits in my room with a sprinkling of religious/Bolivian.
67. Do you like solid colors in furniture or prints? Solids.
68. Is there a smoke detector in your home? No nor is ther a fire extinguisher but there is a tank of gas.
68. In case of fire, what are the items you would grab if you only could make one quick trip? passport, money, boots
69. Do you know how to work your electrical box? Yes cuz the fuses blow every time I take a shower at the same time as using alight...showers are electric here.
70. What temperature in your home is most comfortable to you? anytime i don´t have to wear a hat to bed
See! Life isn´t all that different in Peace Corps Bolivia!

shock o culture

I heartily apologize for not writing in quite some time. I was struck down by a two-month cold (still going strong) and a hearty case of culture shock. To be honest, I didn´t realize it was culture shock until yesterday. I just thought I was in a long-term crappy mood and having several more "I-hate-Bolivia" moments followed by fewer than usual " I-love-Bolivia" moments. It´s not like the culture is entirely different. The religion is the same, the language is familiar and I don´t really feel that much like a minority. If I were to use a metaphor, which I will, I´d say it´s like watching somewhat eating an apple and thinking, "That´s totally not how you do it! Everyone knows you eat around the middle first!" Of course, I could be anal about my apple-eating technique but in general it´s a feeling that people are doing things strangely. In general, I handle this well...stepping back, evaluating and perhaps adapting the new technique for apple eating.

Just to clarify, I think Bolivians eat their apples the same way but they eat oranges differently. They just unpeel a little bit and then suck the hell out of it. Also, they cut eveything into teeny tiny pieces before eating it.

Examples of Ellen´s culture shock: A few weeks ago I went into the office and was handed three rolls of toilet paper. Hooray! I then had to sign two different forms confirming that I had received said toilet paper and was told that it was mine and only mine and I should not let anyone else use my TP nor use anyone else´s. Ok. Later I went to use the copy machine where I was mocked for not knowing enough to bring my own paper. In my humble opinion, I think these sort of things should fit into normal operating costs. I mean does someone get penalized if they use more than their alloted three rolls?
When in Tarija I went to the post office to pick up a package. Package pick up, by the way, is only between 3:30 and 4 on Mon,Wed, Fri. I went to one window to pay 21Bs and the woman put three postage stamps on each package slip, two rubber stamps and signed them. She then told me to go into the first door on my right. Once in that hallway, I was told to go back outside and make copies of both of the package slips. (Why couldn´t the first lady have told me this?) So I did and returned and was told that since the packages had arrived eight days ago, I had to pay for eight days of storage. This I don´t understand. If I can only pick up my package three days out of the week, one of which was a holiday, I shouldn´t have to pay for the other days. Ah well. I did and returned. Then I had to sign each package slip and copy and wait for the customs guy who showed up 15 minutes late. He opened my packages, retaped them and sent me on my merry way. (One of the packages wasn´t even for me)
Yesterday I was riding in a bus when the ticket-taker didn´t rip every single part of my half of the ticket off. Rather than letting it go she tore the teeniests bits off (which by the way had no writing nor any importance to me) and handed them to me. Why?

Perhaps it´s not so much culture shock as it is beauracracy shock. (Did I spell that right?) They drill into your brain during training that this is normal. You will have a honeymoon period, then a culture shock, readjustment, further culture shock, further readjustment and then you´ll never wanna go home again. According to the time scale, my honeymoon period lasted way longer than normal.

Anyhoo, for the past month I wrote up a very informative presentation on trash management. AFTER my counterpart read it he told me that the schools had extended their vacations and that I wouldn´t have the presentation yet. Ah well, I´ll be ready.

I went to Cochabamba to reconnect with the other volunteers in my training class, present a diagnostic about my community, take some Spanish etc. Due to blockades between me and the airport I got to take a bus through Potosí. Let me tell you, Potosí is frikkin cold! (highest bus terminal in the world) But there are llamas! (although not necessarily in the terminal) Anyhoo, in Cocha I did get the opportunity to visit my host family whom I love so much. They are just so splendiferous. I went and played cards with the boys, they commented on the fact that I talk a hell of a lot more and we had a bunch of fun. (Eliz, they thank you for the cards. Perfect gift) I also got the chance to eat salteñas, buy some used clothing (which just cuz it´s used doesn´t mean it´s color-fast as I found out today by dying all my socks pink), get more vaccinations, eat in restaurants...and take a Quechua class. Quechua rox my sox. Who knew that I was capable of glottal stops and hacking and spitting like a pro? Y´all do now.

Let´s see. This Monday was Bolivian Independence day. I was not feeling well but didn´t want to miss it so I ventured out of my house where I ran into two guys I work with. They invited me to march with them in the parade. This consisted of standing in the sun for two hours, waiting to march, and then marching one block past the mayor´s stand. That´s it. But it was fun to see all the schools in their formal get-ups and all the organizations that exist in the town. This one high-schooler pinned a Bolivian rosette on me. At first I thought he was some punk trying to cop a feel but it was a friend I play basketball with and I swear if I had a daughter I would fix her up with him. Anyone want to marry their daughter off to an athletic, respectful to women, good looking Bolivian?

After the parade all my work peeps went to hang out and barbecue and I tagged along. Then I was asked to cook some sort of dessert for my friend´s go-away party. Apparently word has got out that I can cook. So after a shower and a nap (useless details, I know) I met up with a gal pal to cook apple crisp. The go away party was tons of fun...an "I feel like I´m with friends in the states" moment. However, I left early to go hang with my Bolivian boytoy because he was freaking out a bit. Every time he called a different male friend of mine would answer my cell demanding "Who is this? Why do you want to talk to Ellen? How long have you known her?" The last time I answered and they all started chanting "Seco seco seco!" which is the Spanish equivalent of "chug chug chug!" (Don´t worry mom. I wasn´t drinking. Also my friends apologized for mocking me mercilessly and promised to call me "American friend" instead of "gringa".)

No more news.

This was my horoscope today, "When was the last time you experienced something foreign (sushi, burritos, and sweet-and-sour pork do not count!)? Today, make a bigger effort to expand your horizons. This is an ideal day to research travel plans, especially if they involve travel outside of the country. Deciding on the right time to go can be a hassle, but if you pick a time now, you can avoid any complications later. The time is always perfect for planning an ambitious vacation." I find that highly amusing.

It is official: I am a site rat. This term is used to describe people who stay in their own town instead of going into the city every few weeks. Last week (ie the last week of June), I was actually a little worried about my sanity and felt an overwhelming need for some gringo time. Things were getting just a little too bizarre. Several times throughout the last few weeks I have been amazed at the conversations I´ve had. Topics included transvestites, race relations, how I need a boyfriend, toilet hygeine, and how to properly wash my socks.

<----my site

So I went to go visit my friend Stephanie in her site. She works for the same counterpart agency so my bosses in Peace Corps and in my counterpart agency encourage such visits. Her site is similar to mine in terms of size but it feels more friendly. Because it is about two hours away from the main thru-Bolivia highway it is a bit more isolated. I however live at a bus stop on a main highway (I use the word highway very loosely) and there are always so many strangers passing through that I don´t get a second look. Ok that´s not true. The high school students whistle at me, grown men sing to me in English and sometimes I am downright stared at. But less so than when I was visiting Stephanie. Also, fewer people say hi to me than to her.

We took a brief tour of her town...the tree nursery, the office, the market. I was introduced to some of her friends and then we went to the cementery to see what Dia de San Pedro was all about. Many families in town were up visiting the graves of their loved ones. At each grave, (we learned later) visitors are invited to partake in chicha (corn brew) and singani (like vodka made from grapes). Luckily, Stephanie knew the members of the family at the second grave so we did not have to visit every single one. We got tipsy enough as it was. Then we made a lovely dinner together and lit sparklers. The next day we hiked up a trail that overlooks the town. While up there we saw several birds hovering at our eye level. It was splendiferously awesome.

I returned to town Saturday night because I was sposed to have chorus practice but the trip took way longer than expected and I was still recovering from my chicha experience so I just went straight to bed. Sunday I hung out with my friend Gloria and her youth group. They were celebrating someone´s birthday so much of the morning consisted of eating, taking photos, and getting hung on by 50 little children. I met another gringo, a German volunteer who lives closer to Stephanie. Somehow, we and Gloria made plans to go visit one of the salt flats at the end of the month and to hike Machu Picchu at the end of the year. (I´ll keep you posted)

After 4 hours of being hung upon we gave the kids back to their parents and went out into the campo for lunch. We were late, as is typical, so there was no lunch left. But Gloria and her friend Chalita pestered the cook until she made us some, while Lino (the German volunteer) and Pedro (Gloria´s friend) and I went to the river to skip rocks. They also set things on fire. Boys. Lunch was chicken, pork, and chuño. (I was given chicken because I said I don´t eat pork.) I got the neck of the chicken and the nose of the pig. I am not kidding. I felt that I should try it, because when I am ever going to eat pig head again but I am afraid of eating anything piggy here. Chuño by the way are little tiny black potatoes. They are frozen in rivers in the altiplano, the water is squeezed out by stomping on them, and then frozen again out in the cold. They are not very good. This prompted a discussion on Italian food and Lino and I wound up making dinner for everyone that night. We made pasta in a red sauce with garlic bread. Apples for dessert. Lino and I both learned how Bolivians cut thing in their hand without use of a cutting board.

On Monday I was invited to help out with "FestaCintis" which I was slightly surprised to learn was a Catholic youth retreat. I showed up and then was made to sing about Jesus in front of 200 high schoolers. Once again, I´m glad that I´m Catholic. Things would be tons more strange to me if I wasn´t. I also had a sorta date. A coworker from another town is apparently madly in love with me and I felt that I may as well go so he can be disappointed that I am not quite as glamorous as he thinks. (To explain the "sorta" my neighbor/coworker invited the date and me over for tea and then disappeared. So we didn´t actually go anywhere.) I did get the distinct impression that he really loves the USA rather than any attraction to me but we did talk for 4 hours and he actually has good taste in music. However, he´s a Yankee fan so it will ever work.

Wednesday I went into Tarija to stuff myself with good food, set things on fire, and drink myself silly (Hooray 4th of July!) I also did some shopping, ate even more, saw Pirates (all by lonesome) and a few futbol games, and "hiked" up to a waterfall outside of the city. The newbies came on Sunday for their site visits. They all seem lovely.

Tarija --> The gang at the waterfall--->

<-----newbies

A few people have queried what I do on a day-to-day basis. I am a Peace Corps volunteer in natural resources/environmental education. At the moment my job consists of shooting the shit. A day to day basis? Hmmmmm. Usually I come into work at 8:00 and develop lesson plans. At 12:30 I go eat lunch, either at my pension (a restaurant where I get a discount for eating there every day) or at the Pastor´s house. If it´s a Pastor day, I chill at their house, teaching the kids English until they get tired, I get bored, or I have something better to do. Then I either go into the office to shoot the shit with my coworkers, walk up to the tree nursery to shoot the shit with the ladies who work up there, or I do whatever the heck I feel like (which usually includes napping, shopping, showering, cleaning, and shooting the shit with the neighbors). Sometimes I give workshops in the schools but they have three week winter vacation right now. Also I give workshops to teachers and I visit other communities around my town.

My parents have kindly reminded me that my birthday is coming up (time really flies!) so I´ll get on constructing a b-day list.

sweater vests and meat pastries

In the interest of oversharing: some months I am just so happy to get my period. It means I can rationalize any inexplicable depression or crying for the preceding days. I am not a complete and utter freak...I am a woman! Hooray!

Haven´t thought through what I want to write today. I haven´t even written in my journal for months. I think I was going to enumerate more things I like (burros), don´t like (talking about the weather, unreliability), and am no longer amused by (people who can only say "good morning beautiful" in English and insist on saying it whatever time of day it is).

Also, I´ve decided that I want to be an old Bolivian man when I grow up. I will be slightly slouched. I will wear a sweater vest AND a cardigan. and I will sit around in the plaza talking to other old, sweater-vest-wearing men. If only they played chess or dominoes.

News: I´ve moved houses. Now I have a much smaller room with a hot shower and some very cool neighbors and a dog. I do not have men throwing rocks at my windows in the middle of the night anymore. Nor do I have a creepy old man neighbor who watches porn.
Also, I´ve been suckered into teaching English twice a week to the Pastor´s kids in exchange for lunch and cakes. The cakes part was a joke (y´know..church ladies...cakes...no?) but I´m afraid that they might actually make some for me.

Also, also, I´ve met some cool new people who are trying to sucker me into making puppets with one of the youth groups. I might be willing to do so but in the meantime it´s nice to expand my circle of buddies. In addition, several of my "students" now say hi to me in the streets and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy adentro.

At the same time as my social schedule is expanding (I´ve also apparently been scheduled for a date with a semi-coworker), last night I had my first night alone in days. It was splendiferous. Ah to be an American who enjoys her me time.

I have had a wicked cold for three weeks now. Who gnu a body could have so much mucus?

Now off to the vivero to meet with the viverista who won´t be there because he never is. It´s a long uphill walk everyday for nothing.

But first! the empanada guy is here! I love the empanada guy! He is so friendly! And he comes bearing empanadas!

My duff. And how it was sat upon.

During training I made the mistake of telling the country director that "sitting in my room reading all day" might be an impediment to me integrating into my community and getting work done. He referenced this about thirty times after that. But yesterday I did indeed hold my second day of room-sitting. I just needed to. This weekend I got no sleep nor relaxation because...get this...there was an auto race in my town. Twenty pimped-out, really friggin loud, formula one cars racing around my town for two days. Some of the drivers even had the overwhelming courtesy to drive their cars (really friggin loud cars may I remind you) at 3AM. No joke.

Monday I held my first official workshop with 18 profes on trash games. It was suprisingly exhausting yet exhilirating (how do you spell that?) to spend an hour and a half trying to be somewhat comprehensible in Español. My compañero asked me if I was nervous...but really I was just excited to do it. I hope it went over well. The profes seemed oddly impressed by my crafts made from trash...wallet out of wine box, handwashing station out of bottles, candelabra out of tin can. That last one I was especially surprised about. I mean I stuck a candle in a tuna can (with gum!) so it wouldn´t fall over and burn my house down. Not that creative.

So anywho yesterday I needed a break..and really had nothing to do. So I hid in my room making the best ever tomato soup (anyone have an tips on seed removal?), folding my laundry, sucking down "Glue" by Irvine Welsh, and playing with the cutest kittens ever.

<-----Los gatitos <-----Room with a view

I did try to get something accomplished by visiting the Director Distrital to plan our visits to two more schools but he´s out of town. I also went to the vivero (tree nursery) to meet with the viverista but he also wasn´t there. Some guys from the mayor´s office showed up looking for him too, so we drove around town to find him...without sucess. During this driving time I was invited out to get drunk with one of the guys from the mayor´s office. I not so politely declined. I wound up back at the office and got sucked into talking to the big bad boss about the town´s green spaces project....which I´m apparently going to be helping out with. Unfortunately I was having one of theose "moments of complete incomprehension" which happen when I can´t think in Spanish and make an idiot of myself.

And tomorrow is the desfile! Apparently, if I understood correctly, we´re marching in the parade in "appropriate clothing." Vamos a ver.

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I´ve decide to add a new category to TILHAABIB called thingsIwillneverunderstand about Bolivia. I won´t be changing the acronym though because as of right now it just rolls off the tongue. Anyhoo, I won´t ever understand why people wash their sidewalks.

First month in site!

I´ve been in site a whole month! I don´t really have any cultural news. There were only three festivals this month, none of which I took part in. I flew into Tarija on Tarija day and all I witneesed slightly out of the norm was a lot of marching bands in the street. And really, that is only slightly out of the norm. Marching bands are real big here. On Labor Day I had the day off and I noticed that there was no one in town so it was more boring than usual. I was told later that the people were most likely inside getting sloshed so perhaps it´s good that I didn´t particpate. Then there was some very small happening where some townspeople hiked up to the plateau over the town where there are stations of the cross. They brought one of the crosses down and remained in a house praying, eating, and drinking for a day before they returned the cross. I´ve been wanting to hike up there for weeks now but apparently the trail is very hard to find and as I am really clumsy it might be better if I go with other people...who can scrape my body off the rocks. And I´m gonna miss Chuquisaca day because I have a meeting in Tarija. (Grr! And I was invited to a barbecue and everything!)

So work has begun to pick up. I do get some glimpses of how many problems I will face from lack of transportation, lack of enthusiasm, language barrier, and some uniquely Bolivian problems.

Last week I went to a school that my organization has a program with. I was introduced and given ideas on what they want from me...including a workshop on didatic games and help in their tiny tree nursery. I went back later to coordinate this but the Principal wasn´t there and the teacher responsible for the nursery told me in no uncertain terms that she was NOT interested. I went back yesterday and was introduced to two teacher who actually DO want to be involved so we outlined the next steps and I somehow agreed to give two talks this week (Friday and Monday). Luckily, I guess, I don´t work on Friday afternoons so I had to cancel one talk which will give me a smidge more time to prepare.

I also went to visit the Director of the School District twice but he wasn´t there. So I went with some coworkers out to the campo to visit two schools there and check out their schoolyard gardens. It was nice to have a different perspective because right now I live in a "zona urbana" and the culture and the kids seem different. Also, one of the schools gave me a bag of radishes...so that was nice.

This weekend the five closest volunteers came to visit me....or really to use the internet and eat in a restaurant...but I´m a perk. It was a perk for me too because I could visit them at the hostel and take a hot shower and watch cable tv. So rather than doing nothing alone, we did nothing together. One night we actually tried to visit as many hamburger joints as possible to compare the quality of food. (There are only about four if you´re liberal about your definition of hamburger.) We plazeared, played cards, ate, and visited the one bar in my town. My poor friend Steph got propositioned in the five seconds it took for my friend to walk me home. But of course she promised to introduce me to this lovely married man whose relationship is on the rocks. Apparently we have a lot in common, like believing in extraterrestrials, thinking that the US is spreading disease to further capitalism, and harboring atomic bombs. (To clarify just in case, these are not beliefs that I harbor strongly or at all.)

I also have started to play basketball with my coworkers and other gente. I learned the words for "pick and roll", "sprained ankle", "cheering section" and "shoot already gringa!" I got my butt kicked by the secretary in 1on1 but later beat a male coworker. He blamed this occurence on the fact that I am an American and therefore must be vastly superior at all sports except soccer. (For those who don´t knnow me, I´m about 5ft2 and 105 pounds. Not exactly star player material.) The next day I got my butt kicked by a 12 year old girl. She wasn´t American.

I visited the Director of the School District and he wants me to work with three schools in my town and five in the campo. I have to somehow balance this with working in the municipal tree nursery (which I haven´t done at all) and with the Mayor´s program on green spaces. And to think I was bored last week.

Yesterday the director took me out to the campo to check out three schools and meet everyone there. I must work on introducing myself. It is very formal here, as are goodbyes and thank yous and as an American I have trouble with expressing deepest gratitude for having met someone and wishing them all the best in all that they try to accomplish in their life...after only five minutes of talking. Anyway the schools were very small...two were one room schoolhouses which should provide a unique challenge. The kiddos were cute like all Bolivian children and none of them knew where the United States are. Now I just have to schedule activites, figure out appropriate lessons...and manage transportation out to the schools. Two might be close enough to bike it.

That´s all folks.

It Depends.

It has come to attention that several newbie Piscorinos (PCVs) and some applicants have stumbled upon my blog seeking answers. Recognizing that they have probably been disappointed thus far I will try to enumerate some common concerns.

Let´s start at the beginning shall we? The application: Really it´s not that hard. They want to make sure that you´re intelligent, relatively well rounded, and not crazy and/or racist. Try to get your references in as soon as humanly possible. Hounding them will be good practice for Peace Corps anyway. On the medical portion, learn from my mistakes...do NOT check anything unless you know that it will actually cause a problem. Unless you want two lung capacity tests and an echocardiogram...then by all means check to your hearts content. And your essays do not have to be theses.

The interview: Again, PC is trying to make sure that you´re fairly intelligent, openminded, and not racist, crazy or running away from your life. I read somewhere that if you´ve just broken up with significant other or had another big life change they will make you wait another six weeks or so. (It took a lot of effort not to write "se dice que" en vez de "I read somewhere")They will ask you about your concerns, your educational and work background, and preferences for placement. You can find the standard questions on the PC Yahoo groups. Be flexible yet specific...especially if you know that if they offer you Chechnya for example (which they won´t), that you won´t go.

Nomination: I was nominated in the interviewer´s office. But otherwise you sit around and wait for a letter and medical/dental packet. Make sure you have recieved everything. It´s ok to bother your recruiter but don´t be an ass about it. They travel a lot, are busy, and there have about a hundred other nominees to deal with. Patience is a virtue.

Medical: Mine took from June to August, including the aforementioned lung capacity tests and echocardiogram. It´s basically a rigorous physical. I wasn´t really that surprised by any of the tests...although the packet they give you is huge. Make sure to triple-check everything and make copies. FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS! Explain to your doctor that everything is needed. You may want to explain to a boss what´s going on so that they don´t think that you´re dying from some strange disease...but your decision.

The placement office might call a few times or they might not. Be patient. I was called once and not given any clue as to my progress in the process. I also had the luck of meeting my placement officer and stiffing him on drinks. ooops. (I lived in DC. Drinking with PC staff isn´t normal and/or all that accepted)

Invitation: Again, patience is a virtue. Check your online toolkit and if it says it´s in the mail (which is just plain cruel) but you haven´t gotten it in two weeks or so...call the office.

And then the fun begins!

Packing: I only weigh 100lbs soaking wet so this produced some additional problems. You are not going to be able to bring everything you own. You will have to leave stuff home and you will live. Lotsa people say to bring fewer clothes than you think you need. I didn´t really follow that rule but I didn´t have many electronics. Wanna know what I brought for a tropical/freezing cold country? jeans, two khakis, three dress pants, two sweaters, three light weight sweaters, fleece, boots, two dress shoes, sneakers, tevas, flippies, bathing suit, shitload of socks and undies, 5 long sleeve ts, four tanks, 3 collared shirts, 4 short sleeved ts, sweatshirt, hat, gloves, baseball cap, two nalgenes, ipod, solar charger, flash drive, photos, journal, addie book, sewing kit, travel toiletries, 5 books including spanish-english dictionary, raincoat and pants, combination lock, small backpack, alarm clock, sleeping bag and liner, head lamp and extra batteries and bulbs, flashlight, batteries, duct tape, leatherman, 2 boxes of granola bars....all in one extended trip pack and rolling duffle.
All of this I could have bought in country. The items in red were essentials for me. Don´t bring white undies or socks. The solar charger doesn´t work. T-shirts are a dime a dozen here and I wish I had slippers, a thermarest, and an ipod charger. The medical office doesn´t give you tampons in the med kit. Pretty much everything else and the kitchen sink is included....condoms too. Although you may not get it the first day...so bring enough sunscreen, tylenol, tampons, and pepto for your first month.

I know I was worried about:
food: The food isn´t awful in Bolivia. Lotsa pasta, meat, and potatoes and sometimes unidentifiable organ meat. Where I live veggies are readily available
illnesses: Haven´t been drastically ill yet. Diahrea is mostly normal. The med office is spectacular.
language: Work your little ass off. Speak to everyone you can. The training staff is spectacular. But some days you will want to crawl into a little English-speaking hole.
being left to fend for myself: after three months of being watched, this takes some getting used to...but yooooooou can doooooooo it!
living conditions: I have a flush toilet and a cold shower in my OWN bathroom, big room, cook for myself.

Best advice: talk to someone who is a current/returned volunteer. It is OK if you hate being a volunteer and want to go home. Several spectacular people from our group have decided that Peace Corps is not for them and we still love them. Be patient and flexible.

Not sure this was helpful. But it depends.

Peace Corps doesn´t allow prosletyzing

So this may be the direct result of working with an Adventist organization who start the day with a prayer but I thought I would share the following with y´all. I thought it was inspirational and directly related to my current experiences.

St. Theresa's Prayer

May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God. Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.

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Otherwise, today I met the director and teachers at a nearby school and was given some tasks to complete in their schoolyard garden, and relating to garbage disposal. I also went to the Distrital Educativa but the Director, like everyone else in my town, went to the campo. Tomorrow I, like everyone else in my town, am going to the campo to meet some more teachers and see what sort of programs my organization has set up there. I´m actually quite excited about this because my lack of transportation has prevented me from working where I´m really needed.

That is one of the things about my Peace Corps experience thus far (three weeks) that bothers me. I for one am not working with people who really need help (that I´ve discovered). I do realize that I have the benefit of an American education that has allowed me certain experiences and advantages that I can use to help people here. Things that I don´t even think about such as experiential education, different perspectives, view towards women etc. But I was kind of expecting a stereotypical campo experience, with no electricity or water, where little children follow me around all day, huge and exotic insects, and I have to explain my prescence every few minutes.

Instead I have electricity (unless they´re bloqeo-ing) and water (before 7PM) in a pretty well-off town of 3000 with several other gringos. And every few weekends I can go to the only five star hotel in Bolivia and eat and swim to my heart´s content. Although in my hotel (not the five star one) there was the largest spider I have ever seen. I got someone else to kill it but he only succeeded in amputating three legs. The rest of the spider was nowhere to be found, a situation I was not satisfied with. I changed rooms.

I´m not sure I can explain how my expectations and experiences compare.

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If anyone cares I have not shaved my legs in three weeks and unfortunately my genes have conspired to give me Jewish leg hair on Irish legs which as of yet doesn´t grow in the same direction. I am not feeling empowed by my defiance of American ideals of beauty. Simply hairy.

Also whoever stole my flipflops I will hunt you down.

I got work done!

I´d like to direct your attention to the link on your right "Recursos de educación ambiental." I wrote up (and translated) most of the EE games that I know. They haven´t been proofread and may insult your monkey´s uncle but it´s a start. (Because I sure as heck amn´t doing work at the moment)

In other news, last night I went out with coworkers and associated spouses. I met a person my own age! who isn´t married! and is a woman! Really a red letter day in a country where the first question they ask is whether you have a spouse/kids. The second questions are usually about either religion, Iraq, September 11, teaching English, or New York City. The topics that make me squirm.

Things I love-hate-amamusedby in Bolivia*

--It amuses me that Bolivians seem to have super human hearinh Someone can merely whisper to catch a bus or taxi. And yet they play the radio and TV at a volume loud enough to wake the dead. Perhaps only maestros have the power of super-hearing.

--I hate that people pee outdoors especially when there is an indoor bathroom readily available.

--I thus far STONGLY DISLIKE gringo pricing and bargaining.

--I love that there are no less than three stalls in the Cancha (big huge market in Cochabamba) dedicated to buttons. You can sell anything ont he street here. It is however sad that people need to resort to selling limonada and globos because they are underemployed.

--I love that sitting in the plaza doing nothing is an acceptable, and even required, activity.

--I love that Bolivian children are so darn cute.

I hate that there are no comfortable chairs.

--I am amused that people cross the street to stay in the shade. This does nothing to aggravate the already existing traffic patterns, Although I find it charming that drivers adapt a pack mentality, disregarding both lane dividers and traffic signals in Coch and Tarija, I find it absolutely petrifying in Santa Cruz. I also like that horns are used to communicate, "Hey! Look! I´m crossing an intersection!"

--I love saying "¿no ve?" after every sentence and people who can only say "Good morning beautiful" in English and insist on saying it whatever time of day it is.

--I´m not sure of my feelings that everyone and their mother plays the trumpet here..and at all hours of the night but I love parades.

*This column, hereafter to be referred to as TILHAABIB is modeled after one that I wrote in my more sentimental days about a certain (now ex) boyfriend. There will be further, markedly less sentimental items about Bolivia in the future.

Easter etc.

Easter was interesting. Apparently the Good Friday tradition is to hike just high enough up the mountains so that your lungs explode and then then take a frosty cold dip in the river. I could not partake in the bathing part because I had a pretty wicked cold. (The cold also prevented me from doing my laundry because doing laundry would make me lose my voice according to some weird Bolivian mom logic.) On Saturday we had our host family fiesta which was less than fun. It was hot, unorganized, and the food was bad. I´m not just whining- my family didn´t enjoy theselves either. Afterwards the volunteers chilled in the plaza and people watched. The highlight was a group of drag queens. Then we ran into Cesar (my tech trainer) and his brothers at a dance club and I stayed out until curfew. Not after. And definitely not until 5AM. On Easter Sunday my family tried to kill me. I was just humbly minding my own business when Abuelita invited me to partake in some chicha. For the unitiatied chicha is an alcoholic corn brew whose fermentation somehow involves spit and poop. Lets just say I spilled out a lot for Pachamama. I was also fed strawberries (which can give me brainworm..but worth it!), made to play soccer in my sandals (and I lost), and forced to listen to the screaming cholita music (which I can only explain as unneccesarily loud noise). In exchange for the Good Friday tradition I tried to explain the tradition of easter socks (thanks Mary!) and I hid Easter eggs for the kiddos.

All 29 of us swore in on April 13th which I hear is pretty darn rare.

I am currently at my site settling in. I couldn´t find my coworker at all this week so let´s just say that my room is now really organized, I read a lot, and sat in the plaza for long amounts of time. Three people have compimented my Spanish. Five have asked me to teach English and about thirty have tried to cheat me on the price of fruit. I also met the world´s tallest Bolivian. He had previously been just a rumor of a man described to me as ¨having the height of a gringo." He is actually quite tall...almost 7ft.

The Site Visit

Greetings from southern Bolivia! I´m here giving my site a test run before I commit to living here for 2 years...or am committed. My site is north of the city of Tarija about 6 hours by flota...and let me tell you it´s quite a trip.

The 8 of us Tarija volunteers flew here last Sunday and were greeted in the airport by a bunch of screaming hippies who whisked us to a hotel and promptly took us out to partake in festivities. Unfortunately the best steak house in Tarija was closed but I was content with my ketchup pizza and ice cream. (See guys they have ice cream here! And it´s good!) AFTER finishing my pizza I was told that there was an actual-real-live Italian place down the road. We went there the next night and it was good although I think that maybe my standards are slipping. Sorry to keep talking about food. I actually dreamt about Cheerios a few nights ago. But my site has a Gringo mart stocked with Grape Nuts so maybe one day Cheerios will come too. Either way I´ve gotten used to drinking yogurt and have been served cow intestine twice this week. Going against my motto (I´ll try anything twice) I didn´t touch it either time. Just couldn´t.

Speaking of dreams. I hate malaria medicine and only have one more week of it. Hooray!

So anyway, on Monday we had counterpart day where we met our work partners and learned what they expected of us. I will be working with an Adventist NGO here who does stuff like land use, environment and health, and natural resources. Apparently I am expected to work in the vivero (tree nursery). The counterpart meeting also consisted of enumerating the rules of Peace Corps (no motorcycle, no coca, no sexual harrassment) and a brief explanation of American culture (sometimes we like to be alone and read) which my counterpart repeated to my other coworkers at least twenty times the next day. This is awkward because he also told everyone not to greet me in the traditional Bolivian way (kiss or campo hug which is like handshake-pat on the side-handshake). Anywho, the counterparts, my closest gringa neighbor (who also works for them), and I rode up together. (It is 4 hours by car including seeking the perfect location to pee and a lime-aid break)

What does it look like you ask? Leaving the city of Tarija we just went up and up and up the mountains on this narrow dirt-ish road that kept doubling back. My counterpart pointed out every location where a drunken bus driver went over the cliff but I only thought I was going to die once. It looks rather like the Southwest of the US (cliffs of red rock). It is not what I pictured Bolivia to look like. It is very dry, the vegetation is scrubby, and dust is now the fourth food group. So when we got to the site we had lunch, my buddy missed her bus and so we got introduced to everyone and their mother at the NGO. Then we all drove up to her site. (This is when I thought I´d die) She lives higher than I do in a similar sized city. I use city in a loose sense. There are only about 7000 people here but it´s not campo.

So the area is famous for beef and wine. I actually know which cow my intestines came from because the tree nursery is located just above the cow-killing place. I´ve been warned that this may cause an icky odor. Anywhoo on Wednesday I met everyone in the vivero. It was one of those days that I´m pretty sure I only understood half of what went on. I think my counterpart said that I can´t come to work drunk but that he and the guy in the mayor´s office are Catholic so if I wanna stay out until 3am on the weekend I can go with them and their wives. I am also pretty sure that he told everyone that I´m fluent and to not treat me like an idiot. Oh he did mention that if they weren´t nice to me then I would go back to my country...and of course he reminded everyone of the the Peace Corps rules.

Thursday and Friday I worked in the vivero. I have learned a few things. Bolivians don´t sweat. They may say they sunburn but also not true. Sometimes my ladies (I work with 3 diff ladies a day who get paid in food) bring goats to work. They are also totally capable of breast feeding and shoveling at the same time. Today I felt my work could be done by a trained monkey (or maybe if we trained the goats). My ladies and I folded, filled, and poked holes in about 400 plastic bags, gathered a ton of molla seeds and planted about half of them. This is good to know as I´ll be sure to seek out work in the schools or offering planting workshops.

I leave you with this: Telenovelas are like Shakespeare. They always involve drama and mistaken identity. They feature a wiser-than-he-seems fool. And I only understand about 1-3 of it.

Tomorrow I get to sit outside at 5AM waiting for a flota back to Tarija, carrying two liters of vinegar for my Peace Corps boss.

The real Carnaval

So I feel bad about the cryptic nature of my Carnaval description. Carnaval, as celebrated throught South America is the last ditch revelty before Lent (which actually hasn't been to drudgy cuz I forgot to give something up and my family still eats meat which I wish they wouldn't...bring on the trucha!) In Bolivia it is celebrated for about a month -- three weeks before Ash Wednesday and one week after. For those non-Catholics in the room, Lent is the period where Jesus lived for 40 days and nights in the desert, fasting, and resisting all sorts of temptations. As such, Catholics give up meat and things like beer or chocolate which can get pretty miserable. Anyhoo the day before Lent starts is a particular day of revelry (Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, Martes de Cha'lla) In Bolivia there are several interesting traditions which I will try to explain even though it's my first Carnaval experience and I probably didn't understand half of what my family told me.

1. TRADITIONAL DANCES Each department (state) has their own dance. For example, there is the TInku which is basically ritualized fighting with some real-live bloodshed.

There is also the capporral,
which according to Lonely Planet simulates the treatment of slaves in the mines where they were forced to wear rattles on their legs. My brothers, who danced in our local entrada, danced this.



A treat for me in the Curso (big large city-wide parade of dancers) were the dancers of Afro-Bolivian heritage. Minroties of any non-Bolivian type or rather rare here and I tend to break into spontaneous applause when I see some. In fact when I show my photos from home I get some gasps at all the different types of people I know. A little bit of EEUU exchage. ANyhoooooo these dancers were phenomenally talented. Also there were dancers from the Chaco. Hot. Just hot. During tech week I learned the girl part which is basically just swishing and twirling while the guy part is more like American clogging...and again is just hot. Sigh.

2. CHA'LLA. On Martes de Cha'lla my family decorated our house with serpentina and globos. I found this a bit confusiing because it was a lot of work and no one actually came to see it. Who decorates if they're not gonna have a party? We also threw pink and white confites on the roof. Confites are pure balls of sugar with annise and are unfit for human consumption. I know cuz I tried one. Cha'lla is just an offering to Pacha Mama or Mother Earth. It can take a few forms but the two most popular are 1.spilling a little for your homies (dumping some booze on the ground) and 2) burning a llama fetus in your backyard. (En serio.) The fetus is burnt with offerings of incense, coca leaves and more confites. The ashes are then buried. People often do this to consecrate new houses or cars. Setting a fire under a car doesn't seem that wise but hey these are people who use electric showers.

3 LAPACHO (????) Also on Martes de Cha'lla is a traditional dish of cabbage, a very thin slab of unidentifable meat, the ubiquitous papas, what appears to be 10 day old rice all topped in a yellow garlic sauce with locoto...really hot peppers. It's also supposed to involve a pear. It almost made me cry.

4. COPLAS -- Picture some very sloshed old people in traditional dress having a rap- off (ala Eminimem in 8 mile...sorry for the folks who won't get the refernece) Now make it in Quechua, VERY loud and off-key and with not so subtle sexual undertones and you'll have a copla. At least this was my experience in our town festival. (But us gringas got to dance and the family's copla won second prize)

5. GLOBOS, ESPUMA,and PUNKS -- As I have whined about before, a significant portion of carnaval is pelting people with water balloons (sometimes with dye or poop inside). Also an annoyance is espuma, a shaving-cream like substance which is a particularly effective distraction during a pickpocketing, especially when it's in your eyes. (not my wallet, but I saw it)

Just to specify. I didn't have any serious pooping problem. I think it was a smidge of food poisoning. Stoopid fast food chicken. Next up is a description of tech week.

"Cheer up donkey"

Bienvenida a Bolivia

So I forgot the first entry of my newest adventure. From January 26...
Bright and shiny Monday morning (ok more like 3AM) I left for Miami. Upon arriving I encountered some hippie types in the van to the hotel. You guessed it...fellow volunteers. (Britta from MN and Russ from GA who is sick right now) Once in the hotel we lunched and then sat through two days of some chipper, short, man talking at us.

There are 29 volunteers (14 guys, 15 girls) and we are a rather homegenous group: mostly white, well traveled, with no hand-eye coordination.

Here are 4 of us!

I missed some part of this because an illness I had right before leaving flared up again. Since there were no docs I had to go to the hospital...wore a gown and everything. I got a shot in the fanny and no lellow lollipop. Oddly, I didn´t hear anyone speak in English the whole 6 hours I was there.

Tuesday at 6PM we went to the airport and sat there for a very long time. I was the only one to watch the State of the Union but I had many requests to give a summary. Flight to La Paz at 11 and a layover for 8 hours until our 20 minute flight to Cochabamba. Many poor little sick volunteers. Our first meal in Bolivia was Burger King. sad.

I´m not sure I can explain Coch. It is a medium sized city and it´s tranquilo. Bolivians (here come the generalizations) speak pretty slowly and are friendly. Our staff is particularly awesome although my language teacher seems a smidge strict. There is the requisite nice bits of town with everything that you would expect in an American city and then there are the people who live in their cars ¨down by the river.¨

grounds of training center

The mountains are huge and beautiful and above the city there is the largest statue of Christ in the world. At night it is lit up blue or green. (Don´t worry. after some sleep more adjectives will be used)

Mostly our time has been occupied by interviews about our site, our language abilities and our job placements. We had our first language class and first immunizations today. Two other people are in my language class. I think we are the grammatically correct afraid to speak-ers. On a side note, it´s surprising how dirty you can get and I´ve broken every nail so far. The horror.

There are plenty of older volunteers here and they keep dragging us out to eat and drink. I´ve already broken a rule but you´ll just have to guess which one. I think the food is pretty good but I´ve been eating in restaurants mostly (pizza, burritos, y pique machu) Pique is a traditional dish with potato wedges, hot peppers, meat, tomatos, sausage and a hard boiled egg. It´s traditional and apparently the only spicy thing here except laqua which is like salsa. I have to learn to finish large meals becuase it is uber offensive not to. The soup is phenomenal.

Everything that they tell us, particularly distasteful things, are followed with ¨Welcome to Bolivia.¨ For example, ¨Don´t chew coca or we´ll kick you out. welcome to Bolivia.¨¨Don´t throw toilet paper in the toilet. Put it in a wastebasket. Welcome to Bolivia,¨ ¨Don´t eat raw tomatoes or you might get a brain worm. Welcome to Bolivia.¨

Ok and despues.....Just for fun try explaining Groundhog´s day in another language without using the words Groundhog or shadow. Is it six more weeks of winter? Also try to explain a waste management plant without using the words waste, management, or plant. (The only word I could think of was shit. Sorry Gram)

So it´s Carnaval here and it is a custom to throw water balloons at gringos and pretty ladies (and I´m both thank you!) Every day as I walk to class these niños lay in wait to dump buckets on me (literal buckets). Lately I´ve been chasing down the little punks and emptying my water bottle on them but it´s kinda unpleasant to pass a day sin waterbottle. One of the other volunteers actually picked up a child and shook him upside down. I think I will adopt a less drastic solution... a supersoaker. Or my community action plan will address water conservation.

Ah the community action plan. We are supposed to scope out our communities and figure out what issue we should address and with which target group (eg trash and kiddos). My group got hooked up with a school but when we went to visit the teacher to discuss possible ideas he got it into his head that we were presenting that day. Sixty-six little eyes looking at us expectantly. Eeeps!

Jesus loves me this I know because he glows in the dark. Really!

Other things to worry the parents- There are stray dogs everywhere and many of them are crazy. We have learned to carry rocks around just in case we need them. My tech trainer actually recommended that I bring a large stick. So far I haven´t needed either but I don´t really want to see how well my rabies shots work.

There have been some huge thunderstorms. This causes the volunteers to dream pretty exclusively about war, bombs, and pretty ladies carrying large needles. I guess the thousand vaccinations are getting to us.

We´ve had several field trips...the archeological museum (fascinating culture! Our guide made some sort of joke about lobotomies and the NY Yankess but I´m not sure I understood.), some art galleries (where we were forced to talk to the artists), Mt. Tunari (llamas!), and of course the waste management plant. If you care for further details on any of these do tell.