Saturday, February 27, 2010

In the Thick of it Now

The weather has cooled off a bit, back down into the 80's, and I found my rain jacket in my tightly packed bags, Hallelujah! So Santa Cruz is looking better all the time. Especially from this view through my new living room windows into the flower-filled garden of the house I moved into today!

This week I attended a conference at the veterinary school I'm starting to work with put on by the US Humane Society's RAVS program. A team of five ladies and one lonely guy ventured from all across the States to train and encourage the Bolivian vets and students to spay and neuter dogs and cats. Right up my alley!
It was great to get to meet and work along side some of the Bolivian professors and students. One of the senior students told me how difficult it was not to be able to understand or talk to the three US vets who didn't speak much Spanish. I told her she could take my English for Veterinarians class this year and then she could to talk to them next year if they come back as they hope. Slightly unrealistic goal for my class I'm afraid, but she was excited nonetheless and wanted to know all the details.
Because there were many linguistically-frustrated vets, and I found that there wasn't much for me to learn or contribute otherwise, I was recruited as a translator.

My English was definitely better than the Bolivians, and maybe my Spanish was better than the gringas I was interpreting for, but that did not make me a qualified translator by any means. There was the expected problem of communicating effectively and rapidly between both languages, the specific surgical and anatomical vocabulary I was lacking, my brain not being used to switching back and forth and sometimes forgetting to translate when there was something interesting going on, but worst of all was the problem of never having been so close to spays and neuters without sterile gloves on! I was constantly tempted to point to or touch the things I was trying to describe, and often eager to dab some blood or rush to the rescue of a neglected vessel. However, that we're aware of, there have not been any fatalities or even close calls due to my major blunders. So, it looks like it was a good learning experience all around.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

CompaƱeras

Today, I moved to hot and sticky Santa Cruz, leaving behind refreshingly dry and comfortable Cochabamba. But as easy as it is, I did not intend to write about Cochabamba's nearly perfect climate, but instead to rave about its nearly perfect people. I've told you lots about my language school friends and fellow troublemakers, but I have yet to give due praise to my Bolivian family, the gracious Chicas that took me in and cared for me far better than I would have cared for myself, Maite and Teresa.

If you've had the pleasure of living with me, you know I may not be the world's easiest roommate or houseguest, but these two never ceased to shower me with love, clean laundry, lessons (in Spanish, sewing, and cooking), company, and yummy, healthy, Bolivian fooooood! I'm gonna miss that sonso, and I'm going to miss my amigitas.

Yesterday, was a beautiful conclusion to six months of friendships, ideas, and culture. I woke up with in the same room as my favorite little man; one-year old Angelito, ran around my favorite Cochabamba running site; the laguna, played some wallyball, was pummeled with water balloons and foam at the finale of Carnaval, had a fabulous visit to the home of my friends the Vargas, shared a lovely dinner/photo-op with these delightful ladies, and finally was sent off with prayer at the bus terminal.

Tomorrow, I'll start a new phase of ministry, post-language school, but today, I'm allowing myself to dwell on the sublime last six months, and how God provided far beyond I expected, but why am I still surprised by that.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Fat Tuesday



Toto, I have the feeling we're not in New Orleans anymore.

In a city with barely any air conditioning, I have yet to see an adult brave enough to open their car windows the past few days. Carnaval seems to be Mardi Gras on diuretics. Shortly after New Year’s a water balloon shattered a cafe window at the table of three of my friends, thus kicking off the six weeks of mahem known as Carnaval in Latin America.








As a tall female gringa who walks nearly everywhere, I seem to meet all the criteria for good target material. Initially, I tried keeping track of the water balloons that hit me, but I had already started to lose my tally, and then gave up completely when my “friends” waged war, guerrilla-style last Thursday with foam, water balloons, buckets, a hose, and super soakers. The original intent of the water “gifts” during Carnaval were meant as blessings to others in honor of the abundance the rainy season brings. Dripping wet, I had a hard time feeling blessed.




For some, arming the water warriors becomes a seasonal occupation. People take up temporary residence on heavily trafficked street corners and sell bags of loaded wet weapons. The madness is such an important part of the culture here that they've made a verb out of the act of throwing water balloons, "globear." This morning, the culminating day of the entire season, running around the lake, we adopted the chant small children use to egg on their adversaries, "Mojanos" (get us wet), but ironically, for once, no one obliged.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Angelito

Among the many fabulous and encouraging responses I've had to last week's admission of feeling on the less useful side recently, was one sentiment that I did not expect, but found some relief in:

"It's not just your selfish desire that wants to be useful. God created us to do good works...His works. It's what we were born to do..." Ephesians 2:10, "For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago."

This relieved me of the guilt I might have felt upon finding a new way to serve this week when I'd just started learning that maybe God wanted me to be still and a little broken. But I'll try not to forget that lesson even as life starts to get busier.

Freddy (also known as Angelito) is a 1-year-old, adorable Bolivian in foster care with a family I'd never met, till Tuesday when I became a regular in their house, as a sporadic nanny. His foster mom just headed to the US for a couple months leaving dad behind with two teenage kids, a job, a house, and a baby that's missing his mommy enough to stop sleeping through the night.
Even when he wakes up in the middle of the night he's cute though. Considering what a confusing year of transitions between families and homes, even languages, it's a miracle that he is possibly the most freely affectionate, and one of the most well socialized little guys I've ever met.
On the downside, he'll just be one more amigo (or in his case-amigito) to say goodbye to in two weeks when I pick up and move again. He is adoptable though, hmm...