My Family, the Guinea Pigs

You've probably already noticed that I love visitors. Out-of-town guests, dinner guests, party guests, even drop-in-while-you're-walking-your-dog guests. But, I've just learned there are some significant differences between all of those and out-of-country guests. Especially when it's four family members who've never been to South America, let alone Bolivia or for most of them, any developing country. My mom, dad, aunt, and sister sacrificed the comforts of familiarity to spend a week with me sharing a little bit of home.

For better or worse, my philosophy was that they would more likely regret not seeing everything, than not sleeping much, because who knows when they'll visit again. In hindsight, when they'll visit again may be determined by how long it takes them to recover from this first trip. Now I know you're thinking I ran them full speed from start to finish, but there was a lot to see, and it turns out a lot of souvenirs to buy, but we worked in some down time. Driving counts as down time right?

The car jostled us all a fair amount, and the endless winding she did over those 20+ hours on mountain "roads", caused some extra nausea, but overall I think she took the worst beating. (Note the mutilated tire we had fun replacing on a mud road through a jungle cloud.)

The combination of car sickness, stress, malaria antibiotics, unfamiliar/sometimes questionable water, nerves, strange food, and possible parasites makes for some very uneasy stomachs. The combination of the unknown, driving on the edges of cliffs, constantly meeting new people, having to have everything translated for you, being deprived of conventional rest areas, and experiencing so many things for the first time builds character right? I know I made a lot of mistakes in preparing them and taking care of them, but it was an adventure and I hope a learning experience for us all. I'm glad it was family that got to be the guinea pigs for the rest of my North American guests, since they have to forgive me for my failings. And beyond the lessons they taught me their presence and their U.S. presents were a huge blessing! I pray that their stomachs recover quickly and that they can process what they saw and experienced through eyes wider open to a whole new part of God's world.

Speaking of family, there's now one more member of my little household here. While visiting Cochabamba we picked up Ruby, the seven month yellow lab puppy, that may very well be my future first foster failure. I agreed to keep her for awhile in between homes, but I'm already beginning to wonder if I might have to find a replacement pet for the couple that wanted to adopt her next year. Molly and Brian, if you're reading this, I'll start looking for an even better addition to your brand new family...

Respectable

Over the past couple weeks I've had the luxury of spending a lot of time with two men that I continue to gain respect for the more I get to know them. It seems more common to uncover flaws in peoples' character as you learn more about them. But with Brad Frye and Bill Janecke I've been enjoying the opposite experience. Bill is my co-worker and mentor here with Vetred in Bolivia and Brad is my director with CVM who's been visiting from Seattle.

They both strike me as great husbands, fathers, friends, leaders, and most of all servants. I've looked to Bill for advice on everything from car parts to camera parts as I've transitioned into this new city and new culture once again. Wisely, he always guides me in the right direction while allowing me to learn the ropes for myself. That is, until he recognizes I'm nearing my frustration capacity, at which point he faithfully becomes more involved in whatever task is trying to overwhelm me that day. He sympathizes with my struggles without enabling me to get bogged down with them. And then I end up at their home for dinner or games, or just chatting with his dear wife Heidi, and all my worries melt away.

Brad has been my director for years, but we've rarely been closer than a phone call away. This month has been the first time we've gotten to spend an extended period within earshot. As we've been showing him Bolivia, our work, our ministry, and our life here, he's been showing me so much more. Watching him step up to wash the dishes, change the diapers, peel the carrots, pull the weeds, fix the car, hold the dog, lead the impromptu devotional, etc. etc. I've started to recognize how fortunate his huge family is to have him, what a sacrifice it must have been for them to share him with us, and what an amazing example of a servant-leader he must be to his kids and everyone around him.

Bill and Brad have been such a huge help to me in so many ways, but their Christ-like attitudes will continue to influence me long beyond any of their actions or words.

Now, after all this great male role modeling, my daddy will arrive with the family in just a couple days, to continue to impart wisdom in areas in which I'm sorely lacking. Maybe he can even pick up where these guys left off on silencing all the noises my car insists on making...

The World is Your Baño

I first heard this quote a couple years ago when Mary McDonald (the original SpendYourselves-er) was recruiting me to fill her very big shoes here in Bolivia. Allegedly, a vet student on a short term mission trip here once asked where the bathroom was, and Bill, now my co-worker, replied, "The world is your baño." Traveling all over Bolivia for more than a week with three men has made this statement very real to me. After over 50 hours in the car I really missed rest areas.

Our trip was cut short by the cancellation of our Trinidad vet school visit due to some political unrest, meaning the university president was thrown in jail. But in spite of the road blockades, marches, construction, water shortages, and power outages, we made it safely to and from Apolo, the most remote town I've probably ever been to.

Home to about 3,000 inhabitants Apolo is ten hours North of the city of La Paz, Bolivia's capital, and consequently ten hours from the nearest gas station. Linda is a missionary veterinarian, the only veterinarian, working there. Her husband Pete is an agriculturist, inventor, now farmer and livestock breeder. They chose Apolo because the huge majority of missionaries work within two hours of a city, so they wanted to minister where others weren't already, and they definitely achieved that goal!

With their four kids, they serve there by supporting churches, discipling leaders, training farmers, facilitating a daycare, running youth groups, hosting short-term missionaries, venturing to even more remote communities for house churches, workshops and vet care. Pretty much doing exactly what I'd love to be doing, but have increasing doubts that I'm cut out for. For now, I think God has me right where He wants me, adapting to the new culture from the city, with opportunities to support other work in the countryside, by spaying and neutering dogs on kitchen tables to the entertainment of local onlookers. Our adventures gave me a fresh respect for Pete and Linda, a renewed appreciation for my home and the conveniences of the city, and a lot to pray about for the future.

"I aspired to preach the gospel, not where Christ was already named, so that I would not build on another man's foundation." -Romans 15:20

Bucking Gender Stereotypes

I may very well be the only woman ever to have tried to get a winch mounted on her truck in Bolivia, I'm at least the first gringa. From the way they treat me in the store you'd think I was an invalid, but a wealthy one. Little do they know, I'm much more mentally handicapped in the area of auto mechanics, but could probably carry the winch, shocks, springs, and any other parts that they presume are too heavy for me for miles and miles. And, much to their despair, I'm far from rich. The delightful mental gymnastics of trying to get anything done to your car in the States, is compounded here by the surprisingly-far-from-English translations I have to remember, such as amortiguadores (shocks) and bujeys (I have no idea). And by the fact that the mechanics don't actually sell any of these parts, so you have to buy them somewhere else and take them there, then travel car-less to the shop every day where your car is resting to check on it, cause calling on the phone's just not as fun.

But I'm not complaining, far from it, I'm embracing the gifts God's giving me and teaching me through each of these experiences, and often repeating to myself my new mantra from my appropriately timed devotional on Thursday, "Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?" -Job responding to his wife when she tells him to curse God and die. I write all this to share my thoughts on gender roles in this new culture I'm exploring. Last Saturday, I joked about the princess conference and the wedding being a bit much estrogen for me, and since then the degree of testosterone has far overcompensated.

The level of chivalry here, or is it chauvinism, once incited me to challenge a stranger at a vet function to an arm wrestling match when he tried to tell me what was too heavy for me. Probably not the most culturally sensitive move I've made, but doubtful the least either. The "logic" behind not allowing us to carry things of ~10 pounds, but watching the women carry children of 30+ pounds everywhere, breast-feeding them till kindergarden, is not reconcilable for me. But, as I'm learning, it's sometimes better not to try to use too much logic...

There is a huge discrepancy in the single female to single male missionary ratio in the world. CVM alone has 7 single females on the field and 0 single males. Being one of those statistics usually doesn't even cross my mind. My single missionary friend Juanita, visiting from Cochabamba once, brought up the fact that it would be easier to be married in this venture we've undertaken, and I couldn't really think of why, except maybe that guys wouldn't look at us as greencards to the US, which would be nice. However, this morning sitting under my sink with pieces of caulk, or maybe plaster, falling on my head trying to fix my plumbing I remembered her thoughts, finally agreed, and wished she'd never brought it up.

For the next two weeks I'll be traveling the expanse of Bolivia, the only girl among five male vets. Maybe it's a good thing I learned all those car words so we'll have something to talk about. But mostly, I think I'll go back to playing the female part and baking lots of cookies! In my opinion this is why there are so few single male missionaries, they all die of starvation on the field. This morning alone, trying to buy ham at the deli for these guys was like 6am on Black Friday at the Mall, I was reminded why I stick to carbs.

This is my 100th Post!! I just wanted to say "Thank You!" to everyone who's following this blog or the notes it becomes on Facebook. If you wouldn't mind commenting to let me know you were here, I'd love to know how many of you sometimes read these. Writing for His glory, Lauren