Soy Confusa

Before you Spanish hotshots start sending me emails about the incorrect use of the verb "ser" in the title, let me explain the sarcasm; that being confused has basically become a permanent state of being for me. After last week's post about converting units (by the way I just installed a conversion widget on my computer's dashboard right above my weather ticker in Celsius,) I was asked at church on Sunday if I like basketball, which lead to a whole new realm of confusion.

Have you ever prayed for something and upon receiving the answer, questioned your sanity in asking for it in the first place? I was starting to notice that my Bolivian friends were more superficial than I wanted. Since I've been in Cochabamba, I've been attending a Bolivian church where I am the only gringa. But other than that I usually have someone else around who speaks English. So, I'd asked God for more opportunities to be immersed to the degree that usually terrifies me, and when I agreed to play basketball with an all Bolivian "professional"* women's team, I started to regret my request.

People tried to reassure me that there really aren't very many words used in sports, so I'd be fine. I was not very convinced, and for once I was right. For the past ~15 years (since this picture was taken) I've only played the kind of pick-up basketball where chaos is the norm. So, last night, at my first practice with this team, I was surprised by how many craters there were in the cement court, how well these short girls played, how much my jump-shot has suffered in the last decade, and mostly by the fact that they ran plays!!

As far as I can tell there are no play books or marker boards for X's and O's, but our team seems to have at least 11 offensive plays that I'm going to need to learn in SPANISH! Does anybody know how to translate "a pick," the dictionary doesn't seem to have basketball concepts. For an hour and half I had that deer-in-headlights adrenaline rush that comes with being completely out of one's comfort zone, but in a somewhat enjoyable way.

In the midst of this chronic mild panic attack, I thank God for the chance to build new relationships and to be stretched a little further...

I am a bow on Your hands, Lord.

Draw me lest I rot.

Do not overdraw me, Lord, I shall break.

Overdraw me Lord, and who cares if I break?

-a prayer by Kikos Kazantzakis

*"professional" basketball here does not imply getting paid, for all I know it may mean that I have to pay them.