Thanksgiving in Bolivia

It's the day after Thanksgiving. Normally we would be enjoying family, shopping, football, turkey sandwiches, and leftover pie. Most likely we would be feeling warm, cozy, loved, grateful, and of course full. Yesterday morning we woke up in Bolivia and realized that we would have none of those things this year. In fact, the fourth Thursday of November is just another Thursday in Bolivia, and for us, a day of work awaited us. An 83-year-old man named Marciano had stopped us on our ride home the day before and asked for help finishing his latrine that had been built by our organization, but wasn't quite ready for use. We had the next day (Thursday - Thanksgiving) free, so we said we could come then. As we've already come to expect, he told us he would make us lunch.

On Thursday morning, we left the house on two motorcycles (we were carrying a load of bricks for the latrine, and one moto couldn't handle all the weight). Partway through our ride, one of the motos refused to climb a hill, and we had to leave it and go together with only half our load of bricks. Like he said he would, the old man was waiting on us, and had already started preparing lunch in his one-room, dirt-floor house. By lunch time, we had worked up an appetite laying bricks and shoveling dirt. Marciano invited us in, laid a rug on one of the brick benches lining his room, and brought us our Thanksgiving lunch: one bowl of boiled, unpeeled potatoes, a bowl with boiled corn and four hard-boiled eggs, a pitcher of sugar water, and a bag of salt. Having no table, he laid all this on the floor, and we ate with our hands while he busied himself around the room, occasionally asking us questions about our home towns, and often saying "Eat! Drink! If you're still hungry, we'll make more!" Other than the conversation, the room was completely silent, and partway through the meal, when we had potato peels and egg shells under our fingernails, we both looked at each other and couldn't help but comment on just how peaceful, simple, and satisfying the meal and our surroundings were. Due to Marciano's persistent pleas that we eat and drink as much as we wanted, we both got full.

After lunch, Andy went back to work on the latrine, and I went with our one good moto to fetch more bricks from the broken one. It was a warm, sunny day, so I was wearing pants and a short-sleeve shirt. However, by the end of the 15 minutes it took me to get back to the other moto, it was cloudy and getting cooler. I hurried to load the bike, and ended up spending a good 15 minutes loading bricks, dropping the moto while trying to turn it around, unloading the bricks so I could pick the bike up again, and then reloading the bricks a final time. Just as I got on my way, I felt raindrops, and a few minutes later, it was pouring. Within minutes, my clothes were soaked, I started shivering, and my arms turned red from the raindrops stinging my bare skin. As time went by, the dirt road got more and more slippery, and by the end I was riding in first gear with my feet down, fish-tailing into town. I arrived back at Marciano's house to find both he and Andy peering out his front door, obviously anxious for me to make it there. Andy ran to help me inside, and when I came in dripping and shivering, Marciano came out of the corner with his coat and two old, torn-up blankets. Since I had basically no other option but to sit in my wet shoes and clothes, the guys piled the blankets on, and the three of us sat in the dark room listening to the rain. After a few minutes, Marciano stood up and said, "I'll make some food," as though this was the obvious thing to do when you're stuck inside anyway. I thought about my full stomach and started to protest, but he was already pulling out potatoes and peeling. Thirty minutess later, it was still raining, we were still cold, and my feet were freezing inside our backpack (Andy's idea to keep me from having to put them on the muddy floor while I tried to let my shoes and socks dry). Marciano poured us each a huge bowl of steaming soup made from ground corn and diced potatoes. The soup had sort of a brownish, gelatinous, and not very appetizing look to it. To our surprise, however, it tasted just like popcorn, and I felt warmer right away.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. The rain stopped, we finished our work on the latrine, said our goodbyes, and headed home on muddy but passable streets. As we laid in bed that night, we couldn't help but think about the simple things that made what could have been a miserable day into a day that was pleasant, memorable, and full of reasons to give thanks: new friends, work worth doing, basic food, old blankets, a leaky mud roof, and sunshine. Thanks to all of you for thinking of us and praying for us always, and especially during the holidays.

Santa Cruz in pictures

Hello friends and family. It's been a while since we got serious about posting anything of real interest to you folks (that is, pictures). So, we devoted this weekend to a photo tour of Santa Cruz, the city that has been our home for the last month. We'll be leaving here soon to head back to Moro Moro, our little pueblo in the mountains. We've adjusted pretty well to city life, but are looking forward to more tranquil living. It's been very hot during our time here (summer is approaching, and Santa Cruz is in the lowlands), so we're also looking forward to chilling out a bit. Okay, here's a little taste of Santa Cruz:

Cassie hanging out on the yard of MCC's compound. When MCC arrived in Santa Cruz in the sixties, they built the buildings on this property, which is located just outside the first "ring" (Santa Cruz is organized in concentric rings - with the first ring being the smallest and nearest to the center. Each ring is maybe 1-2 kilometers outside the one before). At the time the compound was built, the road in front of it was unpaved, and the property was very close to the edge of town. Now, fifty years later, the radius of the city is 8 rings in some locations, and pavement is more or less constant from the center to just outside the fourth ring. Obviously, this geographic growth was accompanied by a major population boom that was (so we've heard) driven by migration from the then more densely-populated highlands of Bolivia to the lowlands, and particularly to the city of Santa Cruz. When MCC came fifty years ago, the city had a population of something like 50,000. We've heard current population estimates of over 1.5 million.

Andy and Cat, also hanging out on the MCC grounds. This is taken just in front of the Unit House, where most of our time is spent when we're on the grounds.

Cassie, suffering terribly.

The soccer field on MCC's grounds. In the background is the office of Centro Menno, the branch of MCC Bolivia that works with Low German speaking Colony Mennonites.

Andy and a really bulbous tree that I can never remember the name of.

Intersection near the indoor/outdoor market closest to MCC headquarters. In the background is a Micro, one of the buses you can hop for around 20 cents to get you around town. Some of them are shorter than this one, so us tall folks (people over like 5'6") have to crouch down for our entire ride if we don't manage to get a seat. This street, as packed as it is with people browsing the many vendors, is one of the main routes through downtown for Micros, whose drivers are quite skilled at squeezing through micro-sized openings.

Jewelry shops. Businesses here cluster together with others of their kind. So, it's normal to find 8 jewelry shops in a row followed by 8 paper shops in a row, followed by 8 fruit stands all selling the same types of fruit. This system has a lot of advantages, especially for us as newcomers. If we think one vendor's price includes a gringo tax, we know (and she knows) that we can just walk three feet and get another price quote!

Used clothing for sale. We have been amazed at the number of entrepreneurs in Santa Cruz. There seems to be widespread knowledge of how to start a business without investing much capital.

A store composed solely of things "as seen on TV." From what we can tell, the mail system wouldn't really accommodate a lot of on-line, mail-order, or TV purchases. So, some brilliant person opened a store to provide the masses with special space-saving clothes hangers and the like.

If you want to sell your house, by far the most common way to advertise your intentions is with spray paint.

A cell phone tower that someone decorated to look like a tree. We've been walking by this corner for a month and only just noticed it!

Cool statue: Andy was especially fond of this statue, as it was built out of plow parts and the like.

Newly-renovated public park. Here you can ride paddle boats, rent a three-person bicycle, and enjoy the very wild-westish murals seen in the background here.

Fence and gate typical of houses in Santa Cruz. Notice the giant spikes on the section of fence on the right, and the broken glass keeping intruders off of the section of fence on the left. EEK!

Giant house!!

Andy and Other Cat, hard at work. Which of them do you think understands more Spanish?

And...not quite so hard at work. Notice the "look, I WAS studying" pile of books next to the hammock.

Coming up next....photos from our armadillo dinner. Don't miss it!

Laugh with us

Hey friends,

We are nearing the end of our time of language study, and are feeling more confident every day. Andy has received a lot of compliments from his teacher and other spanish speakers. He knew hardly any when we arrived, and he's carrying on entire conversations now. As you can imagine, he generally jumps into a conversation without worrying much about speaking perfectly, where I'm a little too cautious at times. People really appreciate when you just put yourself out there, and he's way better at that than me. He's especially made people happy with some of the blunders he's made so far. I'm sure there will be many more to come. Here are just a few highlights:

What he meant: Mis orejas están rojas. My ears are red.

What he said: Mis ovejas están rojas. My sheep are red.

What he meant: ¿Cómo fue tu viaje? How was your journey? (to our boss)

What he said: ¿Cómo fue tu vieja? How was your (old) lady?

And my favorite.....

What he meant: El gato está sentiendo a mis piernas. The cat is sitting on my legs (lap). (to our 65-year-old host mother)

What he said: El gato está sentiendo a mis piedras. The cat is sitting on my stones.