Friendship Day

Hallmark would have a field day in Bolivia. It seems as though every week it is the official day of something. This past Monday was the Day of Friendship. For scheduling reasons we celebrated on Thursday by taking the women on an excursion. About 30 km outside the city was a little retreat site and we spent the day playing games and sharing. These women LOVE soccer, it's incredible, and it was great to see them so excited and carefree.

Hopefully from these two pictures you can see why they chose Francesca and Kristen to be in the goals. It wasn't until I quit Kristen's defense to take pictures that the other team scored to goals. Only us gringas seemed to be keeping score though.

After the games and getting to know each other better it was time for lunch. Our instructions were to bring something to share but who was to know how that would have manifested itself. One of the ladies laid out her aguyo in the center of the circle and put a ripped trash bag over it. Kristen and I looked at each other quizzically and then a large bowl of pasta and meat was dumped onto the bag. Quickly to follow were everyone else's pasta and potato dishes. Spoons were passed around and everyone shared out of the communal "bowl" while looking warily at the green beans and carrots that we brought. I might add that the beans and carrots were the only vegetables at the meal.

On the subject of sharing, it is really amazing how the sentiment of sharing is built into the culture here, especially in the poorer neighborhoods. If food is brought out, it is offered to everyone in the room. Everyone accepts. It is considered rude and surprising to refuse something that is offered. I learned early on that if you are going to bring something, bring two somethings. There is a much stronger sense of community and thought of "what's mine is ours" than in the States. It is refreshing and I really appreciate it, even though it's difficult at times when what they have to offer in return is full of meat. Considering the rude refusal, I was worried about not participating completely in the act of sharing but everyone has been extremely understanding and accommodating. They seem to be even more excited when they realize they have something vegetarian to offer.

Four Little Angels

Wednesday was a bad day, at least I think that crying at work counts as a bad day. The details aren't really important, mostly just a lot of little things piled up. I was tandem teaching a cooking class with a nutritionist from Guatemala and just had to leave the room and try to compose myself on a bench outside. Because the class was in the bakery, my women were baking off site. As I was sitting there thinking all kinds of negative thoughts like "I want to go home...to Cochabamba...to the US...just somewhere away from here" and "What am I doing here?!?" etc, I looked outside and saw and image that instantly changed my attitude. Like a little Bolivian SWAT team, the four women I work with came through the door laughing and carrying their wares. They deposited their goods and set to work getting me the things I needed for my portion of the class. I perked up instantly and all my troubles were long gone. I was back in the bakery and made room for one of the women, Victoria, to sit down and she looked at me, with a big smile, and said "No, I am going to help you" I knew then what I was there for and why I make that long commute to work everyday. These four women have touched my heart so much more than I thought was possible. They are beautiful people and deserve so much better than what they've been dealt. I think I will remember the image of them coming through the door and how it made me feel as one of the best moments in my mission. More, it was a moment of recognition to what mission really is.

Uspha Uspha has no running water so water is delivered by trucks once a week. A barrel like the one pictured below costs 4 Bs to fill, approximately 35 cents. It is a price that most people can afford and all the women that I work with have one for their house. That being said, a lot of the women do their laundry in the river at the bottom of the hill (at least an hour walk from their houses) because they have large families and need the delivered water for drinking and cooking. The water isn't purified but I've seen people stick a cup into the barrel and drink directly out of it. I have learned a lot about conserving water during my time in the bakery, especially when it comes to cleaning. I'll try to take pictures of our process to illustrate.

The water trunk making it's way through the neighborhood to make more deliveries.

The colored cloth pictured below is called aguyo and is made out of very sturdy and thick thread. The women here use these aguyos to carry everything from produce to their children. The woman pictured below works almost the entire day with her son on her back.

Odds and Ends

The problem with working in a bakery is that getting a cold will put you out of commission. As a side note, this is the fifth cold I've gotten in the last seven months. I've come to the conclusion that it is a result of my extensive use of public transportation. I don't have any choice in that regard but I'll have to be more vigilant in washing my hands and utilizing hand sanitizer. So, as an alternative to work I thought I'd update the ol' blog.

The women at the bakery are opening up more to me with each passing day. They engage me in conversation and ask a lot of questions. As of late, they have been asking me to help them with various areas of study. A lot of them have trouble reading and have asked if I can help them practice. They also want to learn multiplication and division. I'm very excited that they have taken the initiative to ask me for these programs. It means so much more if they want it, as opposed to me imposing on them what I think they need. They have also asked me for a cooking class of sorts to learn new recipes. I shared some of my mom's homemade chocolate chip cookies, and they wanted to learned immediately how to made them. Unfortunately, chocolate, nuts, and peanut butter are expensive here so I am trying to come up with cost effective desserts that they can make. They are especially interested in learning how to cook with Carne de Soya (vegetarian meat substitute) because meat is also expensive. It would be healthier and cheaper for them to have vegetarian-ish diets. I think I'll have to have Betty give me my own cooking class with the carne de soya before I can give one. There is a middle (wo)man in all of this. The director of women's programming has her own ideas of what I should be doing with them, so I hope that the women assert themselves and tell her what they want.

The exchange rate of Bolivianos to US Dollars is about 8 to 1 and small denominations of Boliviano centavos are rare, almost non-existent. Last night as we were sitting around the supper table the topic of currency was brought up and Rick darted upstairs to retrieve something none of us had yet laid eyes on while in Bolivia. A 2 centavo piece (pictured below) is worth about 1/4th of a US cent.
The 50 centavo piece is widely used because most public transportation costs 1.5 Bs. The 20 centavo is only really seen in the grocery stores and are fairly useless anywhere else. They've become my Sunday collection donation. The 10 centavo is pretty rare. In fact, at the grocery stores and tiendas they will often give you candy as change to round up to the nearest half Boliviano because there just aren't many 10 centavo pieces in circulation. None of us have gotten up the gumption to try and pay with candy yet, but I'm sure it'll happen. So needless to say we were all shocked to see a 2 centavo piece appear on the table. It is completely worthless even in Bolivia, because nothing is priced to the hundredths place, but it is cute!

From left to right and from most valuable to least, is the spectrum of coin money in Bolivia: 5 Bs, 2 Bs, 1 B, 50 centavos, 20 cents, 10 cents, and 2 cents. There is paper money at values of 10, 20, 50 , 100, and 200 Bs.

Rain Rain Come Today

Here is an example of before and after a day in Uspha

I've been composing this entry in my head for awhile and should have posted it sooner, so as not to make a liar out of myself. Bolivia is currently in winter, or the dry season, and I haven't experienced rain since the end of March which is almost four months. I can't say that with complete truthfulness because apparently it did rain briefly last night while I was in the shower. Even a sprinkle killed some of the dust in the air which has made today very pleasant. It has been very difficult at times to work in a pueblo without paved roads or sidewalks. Up until recently it was very bearable. All this week the sky has been overcast with threatening looking thunderstorms but not one drop fell. A disappointing tease. With the clouds came the wind. It was incredible in Uspha. As I was waiting for the bus, dust was blowing everywhere. There was grit in my mouth and eyes so that I could barely keep them open, not that there was anything to see anyway. The houses on the hill not more than 200 yards away were almost completely obscured by the dust and dirt. Rick said that on his way home the dust had made it into the city and the Cristo was barely visible.

During the dry season, there are nights where the temperatures get low enough for snow but since it is the dry season there usually isn't any. This morning, because of the humidity and those storm clouds, the mountains were snow-capped and quite beautiful. Only occasionally have I seen only the highest peak of Tunari with snow.

I am eager for a downpour. I've heard rain describes as depressing but not the other way around.

Pictures from Uspha Uspha

I've mentioned the center I've been working at in a poor neighborhood, Uspha Uspha, and have had requests for pictures. Kristen brought her camera to work on Thursday so here are some pictures from the center and the bakery. Different women work throughout the week so I'll bring my camera another day to get some more pictures. The watchtower below is the building that houses the bakery and the hill in the background is an example of the adobe houses that people live in. There is no running water and electricity for only a few hours a day. A lot of the houses don't even have doors, just blankets or sheets hung in the doorway.

Here are the women that work on Thursdays. They are both from Oruro, a mining city west of Cochabamba. A lot of the population migrated to Cochabamba and other cities in Bolivia, when the mines became privatized in the 80's, for better opportunities. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much better their lives actually are in Uspha. I brought up the issue of age, as tactfully as I could, the last time we were in the bakery. Kristen and I were shocked to learn that they were much younger than they look/act. A life of poverty and abuse ages the people here to an incredible degree.

The process of preparing all the dough finishes up right about lunchtime. Usually the director of the center will bring in lunch for the women and whoever else happens to show up. The little boy to the left of the picture is the son of one of the ladies. As usual, the food is full of meat so I'm accustomed to bringing my own snacks. Kristen and I try to pack extra fruits and vegetables to share with the women to help them get those vitamins. It is a great luxury to live in such a pleasant climate and always have access to a variety of cheap fresh produce. It doesn't hurt the pocketbook to always be sharing food.

Here is a little sample of the bread making process. I'm still not sure exactly how my hands manage it but we take large pieces of dough and manipulate little balls out of it. After the balls are allowed to rise a bit they are rolled out, painted with egg, and put in the oven. There is a weekly rotation in the bakery between four women but the one below works everyday...it take a special person to make me look tall.

The apron I'm wearing is very typical of the street vendors and women in Bolivia. I bought them in La Cancha when I made the decision that I'd be working at the bakery often. One of the pockets even has a secret, hidden zipper pocket that would be used by the women selling their goods to keep their money safe. They laughed at us the first day that we brought the aprons, it was very strange to see two grinas in attire that is reserved for the poor working class. I'm still unclear about the selling process for the bread. People from the neighborhood stop by in the afternoon to buy it but sometimes they count out 80-100 pieces of bread and cart them off somewhere. More to follow on that I suppose.

I hope that this commentary on the bakery is at least mildly interesting. Now that school is over, Uspha is one of my only sources of input so I'll be commenting on it a lot.

No more pencils, no more books

We wrapped up graduation on Friday, bringing to close a three day series of presentations and parties. It was a great way to say goodbye and honor what we had accomplished over the last five months. It was exhausting, as saying goodbye often is but I am looking forward to the next step. I started work about four weeks ago in a neighborhood in the south of town at a women's center. There is a bakery for the women to establish a source of income and a daycare for their children to be in a safe and stimulating environment. The daycare serves the entire neighborhood, not just the women in the bakery. There are also workshops and presentations given to help improve the lives and situations of the women.

Last week the topic of the presentation was "Rabia" which Kristen and I thought was rage because there is an expression that includes the word to express anger/rage. The presenters were setting up and I saw a little stuffed dog with a green ribbon tied around his neck. The green ribbon on live dogs signals that they've been vaccinated for rabies. I thought to myself, that's neat that the little stuffed animal teaches kids what dogs are safe but how are they going to use that to talk about rage. It was right about that moment when I remembered the Spanish word for rabies is rabia. Just one of those lost in translation moments.

Because of school, I've only been going to the center on Thursday afternoons. Now that school is over I hope to increase my hours there. I work in the bakery, making bread with the women. It might not sound like much but I think the fellowship that comes over cooking and crafting is pretty cross-cultural. Right now I need to be creating relationships and learning from the women before I can ever hope to know what they need. For right now, I plan on spending mornings in the center and am looking for a good fit for the afternoons.

I recently went on a trip and took a lot of pictures. I didn't envy the idea of trying to pick only 4 or 5 pictures to post in a blog entry. As such I am working on an online web album so that nothing hits the editing room floor. The website is:

http://picasaweb.google.com/emily.bolivia

Some Pictures

Last Sunday a student here at the Institute was baptized into the Catholic church. It was a beautiful and emotional ceremony, there wasn't a dry eye in the whole place. It was also the Bolivian Mother's day and the feast of Pentecost. Therefore, it was even more of an appropriate time for her, on many levels. I'm not sure than I have a lot more to say about it. I'm very touched that she chose to share this moment with us. Rumu is pictured below with her classmate, Matias. Matias is his Spanish name because I don't know how to spell his given Polish name.

Rumu taking her First Communion after baptism. It reminded me of my first time, the whole ceremony did in fact.

Kristen and I at the reception after the mass.

Everyone wanted to play with my camera that day. In the next shot, my friend Tim was playing photographer by yelling out commands to express a variety of emotions. That certainly isn't my surprised face so who knows.

Finally, a really sweet picture of the new Catholic and myself. I might even use the word precious.

So I am a little under the weather right now and not feeling very eloquent or long-winded. Hopefully the pictures are enough to suffice until I feel better.