Life in Santa Cruz

Hello all!

Cassie and I are almost halfway through our language classes, and it shows. We’re continually hitting walls and struggling to find words, but every night, we have more complex and fulfilling conversations with our host family. We’re staying with a widow named Consuelo. We’re getting to see middle-class life in Bolivia - very different form Moro Moro. This family has a car and a computer, and even a washing machine. They have traveled to other countries and watch cable television. In the countryside surrounding Moro Moro, we’re often asked what it’s like to fly in an airplane, and how much did my prescription eyeglasses cost. The people are curious and know so much more than I have ever known about plant life and our immediate surroundings, but experiences of technology and life as usual in the developed world is fascinating to them.

We have settled into a routine of language classes 4 days/week in the mornings, and work on thesis, homework, or other projects in the afternoons. I am within a week of finishing edits on my thesis to turn back in. Cassie received word that her publication needs some revision, so she’s hitting the statistical software with gusto to complete that. We’re in and out of the phase of needing a LOT of sleep. At first it was 10 hours EVERY night. At times it’s in bed at 9 and groggy at 8 trying to get out of the house for class, other times I pop up at 6:30 with my head clear.

On the days we don’t have class, we’ve been doing various activities to orient us to Bolivian life. Whether a tour of the city by micro (the bus system here) or talking politics with an American expatriate who’s been living here for 40 years, we’re feeling like we’re getting to know this culture more every day.

A few experiences really throw us for a loop – such as the micros (bus system) here. Not bad, just different we remind ourselves… There are 114 micro routes in/though this city of 1.5 million, and there are 11 different ones that will take us from our house to the MCC office – about a 15 minute ride. The micros have ~20 seats, and are all privately owned, at times by a company, at times by the driver. There are no marked stops, so you just flag down a bus, and ask “PARE (stop) POR FAVOR” if you want off. At times you’re stuck in traffic, and you just have to ask “PUERTA (door) POR FAVOR” and he’ll let you off to fend for yourself in the traffic. I find the incentives built into the system quite interesting. The owner gets to keep the money brought in above and beyond costs – so his goal is to get as many people onto and off of the bus as possible. That means they drive as fast as they possibly can, but if someone flags them down, HOLD ON! And if there’s a few cubic feet of room left in the bus, he’s glad to stop and let you attempt to squish into the bus. Then if someone from the back wants out – that’s another process. It ends up being a fairly efficient system once you’re on a bus, because you get across town in a hurry, but it’s at times uncomfortable. Some of the busses were not meant for tall gringos (not a derogatory term in Bolivia). At 5’8”, I have to shorten myself a good 8” on some micros. If I have to stand for the 15 minutes – ouch.

We haven’t taken any pictures since we arrived in the city – we’ve seen fascinating things, but have been travelling as light as possible. We’re getting more comfortable now and will probably get some pictures of life here uploaded soon.

If you're wondering about homesickness, we're doing alright. A friend just shared her load of downloaded Office episodes, and though we couldn't watch it Thursday night, like so many of you at home, we'll get a few watched this weekend. We're lucky to have lived a fairly transient life since we've been married - staying in the same zipcode 18 months one time. I think it prepared us well to make yet another break from the familiar. As we said a few times before we left - we look back on the road that got us hear and realize how good God is too have prepared us for each next step. We never saw the next journey coming until it was time, and we had been prepared for it. Thanks everyone for your support and chats. Skype is working well - add us to your list and we can videophone online - our username is andyncassie.

Now, if you'd like to eat along with our journey, give Masaco a try:

Masaco

Need:

½lb beef cut – sliced thin, not ground

2lb bananas or plantains

Salt

Oil

Fry the meat – really, over-fry it just a little so it’s just a little dry.

Fry the bananas/plantains. Get them really well fried too – just a little dry is fine.

In Bolivia, every kitchen I’ve entered has a “tacu” a hollowed out stump for use as a mortar-pestle devise – mostly for making masaco. You’ll have to improvise. What you need to do is crush the fried meat so that it breaks apart into little slivers.

Remove the meat from the crushing devise, and do the same for the bananas. Add a bit of salt as you crush, and add the meat back to the bananas as you get them smooth. Keep mixing until it’s of even consistency. Now add some of the oil from frying the meat into the mixture – mix until blended.

A few more ideas and a pretty bad picture here: http://www.boliviabella.com/masaco-de-platano.html

Enjoy!

10 things that are different

We came up with a list of just a few of the things that are different here than in the U.S. These are just the things that are easily explained in a few short phrases, so just imagine that this is the tip of the iceberg. Here goes:

1. For folks with flushing toilets, toilet paper goes in the trash can, not in the toilet (so that pipes can be smaller).

2. Where there are buses, there are no defined bus stops, and no pull cord in the bus. You just have to say (loud enough to be heard, but not so loud as to be perceived as shouting at the driver), "Pare, por favor!".

3. Meat is sold outside in the open, not from your grocer's freezer.

4. Hair color is not something people talk about (over 99% of the people here have black hair, after all).

5. In the campo, animals are fenced out, not in. We've heard of men being gone from home for two days in search of a cow.

6. There are fruit trees everywhere. Mmmm.

7. Often, the bigger the store, the more expensive things are. The equivalent to Wal-Mart in Santa Cruz is where you'll pay the most for just about everything.

8. Goods are transported to small stores in plastic grocery sacks, not in nicely packed boxes. We helped a woman unload at her tienda a few weeks ago, and she had 200 pilfruit (little single-serve bags of yogurt mixed with juice) tied up in plastic sacks.

9. Instead of dispersing themselves like in the states, stores of one variety are all concentrated in one area of the city. (For example, there's a street full of pharmacies followed by a street full of photographers).

10. In the campo, if you visit someone's house, instead of offering you a snack (or nothing at all) like at home, you will likely be offered a large meal.

More to come!

First month in Bolivia

Here are a few photos taken along our journey in our first month in Bolivia. If you notice that my cheeks get a little rounder as we go along, that's because Bolivians are very hospitable and generous with their portions.

Day 2 in Bolivia (MCC Headquarters, Santa Cruz): making lemonade. In the city, fresh fruit of all varieties is abundant and delicious. In Moro Moro, there are few fruits during much of the year, but Sunday's market will shine a little light on our kitchen each week.

Day 3: Traveling to Moro Moro. We're getting ready to cross this river for the second time. This was the unofficial detour around what could have been an hours-long construction delay.

Here are just a few of many livestock we saw on the road to Moro Moro (and just about every other road we've traveled so far).

Day 4 in Bolivia, Day 1ish in Moro Moro: Hike to a nearby high point. Here we're overlooking our little pueblo, Moro Moro.

Tomato and cheese sandwich with a view:

Is he carrying a sack of potatoes? Oh, nope, just a sleeping 2-year-old.

Day 7 in Bolivia: first real day of work (actually, watching Brian work): pouring concrete for dry latrine parts.

Day 9: settling into our host-family room in Moro Moro. Those are two kid-sized beds filling up most of the room. We slept quite comfily though, I must say.

Day 11: Visit to Pampa Negra, a community about 40 km from our pueblo. Pampa Negra is home to another family in the MCC Moro Moro team, where there's a large project underway to help collect drinking water from roofs of homes. Pampa Negra was hot, dry, dusty, and windy, but the people there produce some spectacular crops of various fruits, vegetables, and herbs by channeling water from the river.

Visiting the river in Pampa Negra was a great relief from the heat. It is also a likely place to find one's pig if it goes missing.

Fishing in Pampa Negra. The guys are each holding down a portion of a long net with their toes. Can you find the gringo?

The spoils of the guys' fishing efforts. Tasty!

Day 12: Wrapping up Pampa Negra visit. These trucks (camiones) are common people-movers around Moro Moro. This one is hauling a group of weekend visitors from Pampa Negra back home to the Moro Moro pueblo.

Going for a walk in the black hills around Pampa Negra. Walking on this volcanic-rock stuff must be similar to walking on the moon.

Day 14: Dry latrine workshop in La Tranca, rural community just outside of Moro Moro. These women cooked lunch and dinner for all the folks at the workshop. When they were taking a break from their full day of cooking, some of them also carried loads of adobe bricks to help build the base of the latrine.

Day 15: Birthday fiesta in La Senda, rural community about a 45-minute moto ride from Moro Moro pueblo. The woman in the middle was celebrating her 87th (or 96th, not sure which) birthday, and we happened to be in the area to enjoy a chicken and potato soup with them. The two guys are her sons.

Day 18: Visiting ValleGrande, larger town about 2-hours by camion or car from Moro Moro pueblo. Brian and Krista showed us around as they bought supplies for our next water project.

Something like Day 21: Commencing spring capping in Duraznito, rural community about a one-hour moto ride from Moro Moro pueblo. It was cooooold this day, and Sylvia, whose house we were visiting, is a wonderful cook. We arrived at about 9 am, and about 15 minutes later she served us our second breakfast: fried eggs, tomatoes, boiled potatoes, and noodles cooked in some kind of oil that makes them taaaasty. This particular day we visited several families, and each fed us this much food.

Andrés, very proud to be hauling a large board on the back of the moto, made me take this picture before I climbed on. We made it all the way home without knocking over any burritos (baby donkeys).

Day 23: El Alto Veladero, rural community just a 15-minute moto ride from Moro Moro pueblo. These folks recently requested we visit them about a new water system project. The day we arrived, they were drying pork on their clothesline. Andy was so fascinated by this that he asked (in halting Spanish), "Can I take a picture of you and your meat? It's beautiful!" They not only allowed the picture, but also sent us home with sausage, some dried meat, and some skin (not really my thing, but supposedly it's good fried).

Thanks for looking! We just arrived in Santa Cruz today, and will live in the city for over 4 weeks studying Spanish. Our next month's photos will be something totally different!