Afterthought

I wasn’t at the Hogar for Christmas. I have heard that it’s a pretty depressing time. On a day where family is everything, it is very hard to understand how an orphan must feel. Some will have spent their first Christmas since arriving at the Hogar, others have spent too many there to remember and know nothing else. The common denominator for all of the girls is that they dream of that mystical thing that many of us take for granted: ‘family’.

I always say that the girls have been unfortunate to arrive at the Hogar yet that they are now fortunate to be at the Hogar. I mean to say that despite the fact that life hasn’t been easy for them in the past, they do now have a family (although a pretty strange one at that – a hundred sisters, a dozen ‘Mothers’ and a few visiting gringos…).

At the orphanage they have food, shelter, clean water, and loving care. Not to mention, of course, the opportunities, the education, the religious and moral upbringing, the friendship. And yet, and yet, whilst at the Hogar they will always just be one in a hundred. I can say objectively that they don’t lack anything, but they will still dream (justifiably) of having a ‘proper’ or ‘normal’ family, and of the individual attention/affection that would bring.

The goal for the Sisters who run the Hogar is always to do the best for their girls. Obviously every girl is different and has their own path to take, but certainly the success stories of the Hogar are those girls who graduate from school at 18 or 19 and then go on to further education at University in Santa Cruz. These are the success stories of the orphanage and examples that the younger girls can aspire towards.

The Hogar needs help to continue its good work. Or, to put it another way, the Hogar needs money to continue its good work.

· There are hopes to buy a house for girls who have left the orphanage, want to study at University but have nowhere else to go. This house would cost US$40,000.
· There are also plans to build a new small house next to the convent which would house two further volunteers who could work at the kinder school, day care centre or adult education centre, all of which are also run by the nuns. This will cost some US$8,000.
· Alongside these long-term projects, there is the day-to-day running of the Hogar. To feed all the girls for just 10 days costs US$2,000.

Myself, Fr Bob and BOVA want to help. We are starting a Foundation to raise money for the second project on the above list. The aim is to raise US$8,000 in order to build a two-roomed house, with kitchen and bathroom which will be home for two volunteers.

We are currently selling ‘shares’ or ‘acciones’ in the Hogar. When you buy one you receive a share certificate which has been decorated by one of the girls themselves. Do contact me if you want to help our fundraising effort.

Many thanks. :-)

La despedida

A final photo opportunity at the airport. That black jumper is mine. I wondered where it had gotten to...

My Bolivian adventure

And so, that was that. My Bolivian adventure.

As many of you will know, I am now back in the UK. I got to see my all the friends that I had left behind and I spent Christmas with my family at home, which was great.

Yet I can’t help but to miss Bolivia. And it’s not just the weather. As I hope I have put across with my modest blog, over the last few months I have done a variety of things, seen a lot of sights and, most importantly, made a number of friends along the way. It was these friends, the girls, the nuns, the other volunteers, who really made this trip what it was for me. I miss them very much.

Apart from these guys who I was living and working with, I’ve come back with many other stories of people who I may only met briefly but have stayed with me. I’m thinking of the teacher who showed me round a young offenders’ institute for boys in Santa Cruz (whose male colleague delighted in showing off his best Hollywood English). I’m thinking of the grandmother who, when we went to collect the half a dozen bags that she wanted to donate to the Hogar, invited us into her home, talked to us about her family, gave us a snapshot of her life. I’m thinking of that taxi driver who opened his doors to us and gave us fruit to eat and soda to drink. Not one of them was obliged to show any kindness to me, nor would I ever see them again, and yet I was made to feel welcome by them.

(I cannot, of course, underestimate the power of the nuns in these cases, or, as I like to put it, the ‘habit card’. On every occasion I was with either Madre Rosario or Madre Micaela. Surely without their presence I would not have been welcomed in the same way. Their presence provided implicit reassurance that the gringo would do no harm.)

Looking back on this blog, I realise that it barely scratches the surface of my experience. Individual girls are hardly mentioned. Thalía, Sandra, Cielo… They’re just names, and yet to me they represent a story, a history and a friend. Fortunately I have plenty of fond memories of them to hold onto, along with some 2,500 photos to jog my memory (how I took so many I will never know…).

Thanks for reading and for all your support.
Simón

The Director and her newest amigos

And of course...

And now, the end is near...

I opened this blog, not with a bottle of champagne, but with a photo of a couple of bears and a monkey.

And so, it is only fitting that as my time in Bolivia is drawing to a close, that I should also draw my blog to a near close with the following photos of my travel companions relaxing and making friends in the mountains of Samaipata. Enjoy!

Photos from Cbba

Madre Andrea standing on a chair...

Cbba by night.

Spot the real Christ.

The photographer: "Another step back, Simon. Just one more step back..."

Tales from Cbba

Cochabamba baby!

I went with a group from Montero up into the mountains of Cochabamba. It took a whopping 9 hours to get there by coach. Finally we arrived at the Hogar San Francisco at 5.15am...

After a short nap, I went with a few of the teachers who had come along on a quick tour of the city. Overnight I found myself elevated to some 2,558m above sea level and, my word, that first morning I could really feel the altitude. It wasn't that I couldn't breathe, but I was certainly conscious of myself breathing. Put it this way, I wasn't volunteering to do any marathons up there. Anyway, after an altitude sickness pill I felt a good deal better. I can't imagine what La Paz is like, at least another 1,000m up in the Andes..!

In the afternoon we had a Mass at the chapel round the corner from the Hogar. It was the ceremony of perpetual vows for Madre Andrea, a particularly sweet nun who had been in Cbba for a month of preparation. The ceremony itself was very special - essentially a marriage between herself and God. With almost every nun from that order come to attend from across the country, plus her family and friends, there wasn't a dry eye left in the house...

Afterwards, we had a reception (as ever a mixture of good food and good banter with the nuns).

The next day we went up to Christo de la Concordia and posed for some photos. "Christo" is a statue of Jesus at the top of a mountain in the middle of the city. You can even climb up inside the statue itself and look out of/wave from various holes strategically positioned up his body. I stuck my arm out of Jesus's armpit! Fantastic.

After that we went to a kids' park. There was a rollercoaster for kids there, although it doesn't really deserve the name "rollercoaster". It was a bit pathetic. Still, the nuns had never been on one before, so they absolutely loved it and screamed all the way. (Don't worry, I do have a video... ;-D)

In the afternoon the nuns had a big and jolly important meeting to finish off their retreat, so I just chilled out at the Hogar. I managed to teach the girls "Go Fish" (or "¡Pesca!" as I decided to call it in Spanish...).

The following day (Monday) we all headed back to Montero. The coach journey took a mighty 10 hours. But at least it was during the day so I had a chance to look at the pretty vistas of mountains and valleys as we made our way back down to the hot tropical lowlands of Santa Cruz...

That reminds me of what I missed most from Cbba when I got back to the Hogar in Montero: the temperature! It was fantastically "fresquito" up in the mountains, lovely and cool. More like British Spring weather than the tropical humidity that I have suffered with for three months. It's just a shame that I couldn't breathe up there!

And I have noticed my head itching recently...

One of the US volunteers has a bad case of lice, a former volunteer who left a month ago has written to us detailing the exact type of parasite that she discovered she had on returning home, one of the youngest girls has spent all week in hospital with a severe worms problem, and we reckon that a good number of the kids here have amoebas...

I don't know what this all means for me, but I think I'll need a thorough medical examination when I get home!

Reformed at La Reforma and getting a coach to Cochabamba

Hello all!

So, we’ve survived the last 10 or so days without the Madres (who are all on a retreat in Cochabamba). It’s been tough keeping everyone entertained (kids are always bored over summer holidays) but I think we’ve done alright.

On Monday we had a day trip to La Reforma, a small town in the country not too far away from Montero. In previous years groups of girls have spent week long retreats there with a volunteer. Previous volunteers have told us many horror stories of their time there (‘worst week of my life’, etc. etc.) and so it was with some trepidation that Sarah and I headed off on Monday morning. Fortunately we were only to stay the one day because the church in which we would normally stay in was infested with bees.

As it happens, the day went fine, although it was long. It’s hard work being in charge of a group of some 50 girls especially in such an open place… Our tactic for stopping people running off: we put on a Shakira CD which meant that everyone kept within earshot. (I can feel a witty comment coming from Jon Deamer, I just know it…).

For a lot of this week it’s been raining and so other activities have been limited to playing basketball (the court at the Hogar is covered with a roof) and watching DVDs of films and TV shows. Actually, the girls have been watching a bit too much TV recently, so yesterday we kept it switched off and instead last night we had a bit of an impromptu spontaneous party: we put some music on at the basketball court, handed out lollipops and bags of juice – what more do you need for a good party?!

This evening I’m off to Cochabamba for the weekend. Tomorrow it’s the ‘perpetual vows’ of one of the Madres at the Convent here in Montero and on Sunday all the nuns (of this order) from across Bolivia have an important meeting which everyone must attend. So I’m travelling up with the remaining Madres and three of the girls just for the weekend. I’ve heard that it’s cold up in the mountains, so I should be right at home. Oh, and I might even see a llama! That would be terribly exciting…

Love to all at home. Ciao for now!

Simon

P.S. I leave Bolivia one week today!

No animals were harmed in the writing of this post...

To make up for the recent posts on killing snakes and moribund cows, here's a pretty picture of a flower and a nun playing basketball..:




:-D

Those of a delicate disposition should proceed with care when reading this post...

ouAs part of the Mother Superior’s on-going trip to Bolivia, all the nuns from the convent, the other house and the Hogar have gone on a “retiro” (retreat) to Cochabamba. Yesterday (Saturday) the one Madre left to look after the Hogar went with two volunteers to Samaipata. The long and short of that is none of the hierarchy above me was at the Hogar yesterday and I, for one day, was left in charge…

Saturday mornings the girls all help to clean the Hogar, which, on the whole, they all did without too much fuss. At one point we had a power cut and we ran out of gas in the kitchen, but apart from that the morning went relatively smoothly. We had a game of basketball which brought us to lunchtime. After lunch a storm came and so we put on a film for the girls to watch inside. All fine so far.

But then the cow died.

The Hogar’s back garden is essentially a mini-farm in which the gardener grows vegetables (such as cabbage and lettuce) and fruits. Animals are also kept, including some pigs, ducks, geese, a particularly mean turkey, some dogs, and, until yesterday, one cow.

And so yesterday afternoon, while I was in the office, girls start coming in and telling me that the cow’s kicked the proverbial bucket. I check it out for myself and conclude that it is (on its back, legs in the air) quite dead. I call the gardener and get him to come and sort it out.

The next thing I know, the cow is cut up and newly arranged on the floor of the food store room. After that, the next thing I know is that a group of 6-10 year olds are wandering round the Hogar holding various bovine inner body parts. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant sight. Nor was it a particularly pleasant smell.

To cut a long story short, everything was bagged up and put in the freezer. I insisted that all the girls wash their hands thoroughly will all the lemons and soap that we could find... Everyone was joking that the cow had deliberately waited until I was in charge to pop its clogs. Anyway, the rest of the day passed without incident and in the evening the Madre and the other volunteers arrived back from their trip.

And I guess tomorrow we’ll be having steak for dinner… ;-)

Samaipata

On Monday I went for a one-day 'paseo' with some of the girls and Madres. We went to a house up in the mountains of the Bolivian countryside, close to the town of Samaipata. The house and surroundings were very pretty and I managed to take nearly 180 photos in just one day..! (I think you'll have to set aside a weekend to get through all my photos by the time I get back...) Anyway, here are just three:

More snake talk

Just as an afterthought to the last post, it's a week since the 'snake incident' and I've just come back from taking one of the girls to hospital with a suspected snake bite.

At ten o'clock at night, Madre Micaela finds me and Sarah (the volunteer in charge of looking after the girls' medical needs) to tell us that María Rene has been bitten by a snake on her ankle. We took a look and it didn't seem to be a snake bite (i.e. two puncture holes), but we went to the hospital to check it out just in case. Despite there being a nationwide civil strike today, fortunately the hospital wasn't closed!

It turns out that it wasn't a snake bite after all, or at least that it wasn't a venomous one. The doctor did give Sarah some tips for the future though: if it were a venomous bite, it would be accompanied by nausea or a headache. Another test is to look at the eyes: if the pupils are pin-points and don't react to a change in light then there is venom in the body. Helpful hints there for you all, I'm sure!

The snake incident

A couple of nights ago, I was sitting outside playing cards with some of the girls just after dinner when a girl runs out shouting 'Simon, Simon, there's a snake, come kill it!'.

So I go and see what the fuss is all about. I find just inside the front door of the Hogar a dark green snake (quite thin, but I'd say just short of 2ft long) coiled up in the corner. I go up to it and start trying to usher it outside with my foot when one of the older girls warns me that it's poisonous. I decide waving my foot at a poisonous snake isn't a good idea and I take a few steps back...

By now the girls are getting very excited and are running around shouting. Madre Micaela comes running up, takes one look at the snake and gets all the girls a safe distance away. Then one of the teachers who was still working with the girls into that evening arrives with a broom handle. Without any fuss she bends down in front of the snake and then starts whacking it on the head repeatedly. (I apologise to any animal lovers - you may not like the way this story is going...).

Once the snake is well and truly concussed, the next thing I see is the Madre returning with a machete. Now it's her turn to bend down and have a go at what is soon an ex-snake.

It was then down to me to use a garden fork to pick up the remains and throw them outside. I get all the best jobs at the Hogar...

Quite an exciting evening, I thought.

Happy Thanksgiving!

So yesterday I celebrated my first ever Thanksgivings Day. The US volunteers were very keen to celebrate it in the appropiate manner. Rather naively I never realised what a big deal it is for the Americans...

So the three American volunteers and I spent the day in Santa Cruz city along with the director Madre Rosario. We ate some empanadas, did some shopping, had lunch and then chilled out at the house of the Madre's brother in Santa Cruz. I had a nap in a hammock for at least an hour and a half, and then watched Shrek 3 in Spanish. Then Thanksgiving dinner was the traditional Bolivian snacks of cuñapé, empanada (de pollo y queso), masaco de plátano and masaco de yuca served with lashing of Fanta and Coca Cola. Apparently this isn't the standard Thanksgiving grub in the US, but still I enjoyed it...

As luck would have it, the same taxi driver who had taken us to Santa Cruz from Montero in the morning also picked us up to take us home in the evening. The Madre got chatting to him on the way back (it turns out they had met before a few years ago) and he was soon telling us all about his job, his wife, kids, etc. He even invited us on a tour of his house when we got back to Montero. Before I knew it, the Madre and I were being introduced to his wife, his three kids, I was handed a glass of soda and the taxi driver was proudly showing us round his garden of fruit trees. A very friendly family, though an unexpectedly strange end to the day..!

One small step for man...

Some of you may already be familiar with this photo, so I thought it might be a good idea to give a little background to it...

The girl's name is Moira, and at 2 and a half years old she is one of the youngest girls at the Hogar. She is also one of the most recent additions, only arriving in August a few weeks before I did.

She was in quite a bad state when she arrived. She had been abandoned by her mother and was a very grumpy girl. In my first month, I don't think I saw her smile and she didn't get on too well with the other girls - often preferring to sit alone in the toy room than play with the others.

Having said that, things have changed rapidly for Moira. She is visibily getting better with every day. She now plays with the other girls, and it's not unusual to get a smile out of her - although she's still quite grumpy! She is prone to sitting down, throwing a fit and refusing to move, but this is happening less often (thankfully!). Although she does know a few words, she usually refuses to speak, but with this too we're encouraging her step by step...

Anyway, to get to the photo. Every Sunday morning all the girls from the Hogar walk to Mass at a church about 10minutes walk away (that 10minutes can feel a heck of a lot stronger in the burning sun...). Moira can (in theory) walk the whole distance there and back, but will often refuse to walk (she loves to be picked up and carried, and hates to be put down - possibly down to being abandoned by her mother...). After Sarah had particularly stressful time trying to get her to walk one Sunday (she threw a fit in the middle of the road that they were trying to cross), she suggested that I give it a go...

So, the following week, I took her by the hand and we walked. And we walked. And we walked the whole way to church. (Okay, so it took us twice as long as normal and we were overtaken by everyone else on the way, even the 'too cool for school' 14-year-olds who drag their heels at the back, but still we made it). In fact, we made it all the way back too! I was chuffed.

And, even more surprisingly, we managed it the following week too! We did have a minor problem when had a fit after Mass and just sat on the Church floor as everyone filed out, but eventually we were on our way... Once again Moira made it all the way back to the Hogar without being picked up. I was proud.

All we need now is to get her to start talking..!

Grumpy Moira.

Update

Sorry that it’s been so long since I updated my blog properly. Here’s a brief update of what’s been going on:

Fr Bob popped by to Bolivia. (As you do).

So did the Mother Superior.

(For Fr Bob we danced and sang. For the Mother Superior we sang and danced.)

My camera broke.

The Hogar truck was stolen in Santa Cruz city.

The summer holidays from school have started.

My camera was fixed.

Yesterday was a fun day. It turned into an impromptu art day which involved getting the girls to draw and colour pictures. The plan is to bring the best of them back to the UK and to sell them in order to raise more money for the girls at the Hogar. I will have plenty with me by the time I get home, so if you’ve ever wanted a picture painted by a Bolivian orphan, now’s your chance! Plus, with the current exchange rate over 15 bolivianos to the pound, every extra pound can make a difference!

For those of you who want to learn more about the Hogar and how you can donate money to the girls and the work of the nuns out here, then you’ll be pleased to know that you’ll be able to get involved. Fr Bob’s visit (which deserves a blog of its own, really) marked the start of an exciting project, details of which I will send to all as soon as possible.

That’s all for now!
Simon

P.S. One final note to all lonely male hearts out there:
In the last census of the country it was found that the ratio of women to men in Bolivia is at least 3:1. Just a thought.

Get to know Bolivia lesson 1

I'm writing this at the same time as trying to ignore High School Musical II which is being played on a nearby computer. (For those who don't know, High School Musical is to date the only film I have ever seen which actually caused me considerable physical pain. The only thing that I could imagine to be worse is it's sequel...).

Anyway, this is just an update to tell everyone that everything is still going well here. Today we visited the river, about 15minutes drive from the Hogar. I was crammed into one of two truck-loads heaving with girls and we headed off. The river was mostly dried up (there's been a drought here for months) and we only went for about an hour, just before dinner. Yet, bizarrely, it was one of the most amazing things that I can remember doing! The girls loved paddling and splashing in the muddy water, posing for photos, playing with a ball… (More ‘Dad moments’ – sorry!) It was a really simple Sunday afternoon activity, but it was special to see everyone enjoying themselves, getting along and playing together. And the sun was just setting too. Perfect.

Before I left the UK, I had the idea that I should put an interesting Bolivian fact at the end of every post, but I forgot. Still, here are some fun facts (interesting or otherwise) which will hopefully introduce you a little more to the country which, for a few weeks more, is home.

Bolivia is one of two landlocked countries in South America (the other being Paraguay). It did used to have a sizable stretch of land which reached the Pacific Ocean but this was taken by Chile in the middle of the 19th century. To this day Bolivians are still bitter.

La Paz is only the administrative capital of Bolivia. It’s official capital is Sucre.

The population of Bolivia is some 9million, which isn’t too far off the number of people living in London alone.

Quechuan is widely spoken in the western mountainous region of Bolivia. Fortunately, I'm in the eastern tropical lowlands of Bolivia and the lingua franca here is very much Spanish. This is, of course, handy because the only word of Quechuan that I know is (or at least sounds like) 'anak anchoo' which means 'I don't want'. Knowing how to refuse things in a language can only get one so far...

Monkeying around

So the photos from the previous post are from my weekend in 'Conce' from a couple of weeks ago. It was a just a retreat out in the Bolivian countryside for a group of the girls with some of the nuns and yours truly.

The 'campo' (countryside) here is really beautiful. We went to the farm owned by the family of the director of the Hogar and we had a great time. Because it's Spring here, there were puppies, piglets and ducklings, as well as blooming flowers and a horse called Joaquin who gave me a ride. :)

We travelled miles and miles that weekend and found ourselves in proper rural Bolivia where the poor people really are very poor. We stopped off at one rural community called Encantado set in what appeared to me as the middle of a jungle. We parked in the centre of their small village and handed out bags of clothes to the townspeople who were so happy to see us. They thanked us and even posed for a photo with the Madre. I felt uplifted.

Then, two days later, when we took more bags of clothes to a poor community just the otherside of urban Montero here (which itself is just down the road from Bolivia's commercial centre Santa Cruz) and they were in even more desperate need for it. The experience was very much a different one with people snatching at clothes and walking off with bag fulls before their contents could be shared evenly. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, I have to admit. Can you imagine how poor these people are if they're relying on donations from a girls' orphanage? It was a visual demonstration to me that Bolivia is one of the poorest countries in South America...

Anyway, on a lighter note, this week coming is the last week of the summer term at school for the girls at the Hogar and so there have been lots of dance shows, contests and exhibitions put on by the schools to bring the academic year to a close. I've been along to as many as I could to support the girls, feeling evermore like a Dad in the process: cheering as they walk on to do their dance, getting them to pose for photos when they should be following the others, feeling a small sense of pride even when all they're doing is waving some pompoms in the air, etc. etc.

One night I got one of the girls to do an impression of Annabel as a monkey...

Veronica as Monkey Annabel :-D

A picture tells a thousand words...

My weekend in Concepción

Photos

Impromptu drum practice on the milk urns.

This is a great photo of Thalía (courtesy of volunteer Lisa) celebrating her school's Saint's Day.

A rose by another other name...

Some more variations on Simon [see previous post 'What's in a name']:

Simba
Simón el león
Flaco
Flaquito
Tripa
Chimón
Chilimón
Simoncito
Simonera
Saimun
Shymun, etc. etc.

The Madres at the Convent which is around the corner from the Hogar once described me as "la espina entre rosas" ('a thorn amongst roses'). I'm sure they mean it in a nice way... :)

A Good Day.

Hello!

How are you all?

I'm getting on very well at the moment. It is four weeks ago today since I arrived at the Hogar. I bet you can imagine that it has flown by, and it really has (although I wouldn't have believed it after the first week which went r-e-a-l-l-y slowly). So much is going on all the time…

Today, for instance, has officially been a Good Day. I went to a local farm with the 8 'kinder girls' in the morning where we saw 'vaquitas' and 'caballitos'. In the afternoon, I spent an hour reading with Angélica, a 9-year-old who I've been asked to help with her basic literacy and numeracy because she's falling behind her classmates. I'm also helping a group of kids who go to the 'special school' during the afternoon with basic reading and maths skills. I find it quite funny that I'm teaching kids their alphabet despite the fact that I can't pronounce one of their letters: 'r', or “erre” with the rolled r sound, a trick which my tongue still refuses to perform. I hope I don't mess these kids up too much what with my vagwant w's…

This evening I was invited to join the Hogar choir practice. I was told that the girls are really good singers (which is true) but that they lack confidence in being animated as they sing, and so I was asked to join and encourage them along. Being part of the choir, made up of a range of girls of all ages at the Hogar (and now one partly sunburnt English guy) was fantastic and I look forward to next week´s practice. Hopefully one day we will record a CD!

Ciao for now,
Simon

P.S. Recent development: Fr Bob will be coming to visit early November! The nuns are very excited... :)

Photo

Dancing with a nun :-)

Jesús

Peace

Almost, but not entirely, unlike Jesus

¡Hola!

Thank you once again to everyone who has emailed me while I've been away and for your comments on this blog. All much appreciated!

Last Friday was the Saint’s Day for Madre Micaela (one of the three nuns who run the Hogar) and so we had a bit of a fiesta. I was told from numerous sources that it would start at “seis a punto” (on the dot of 6pm). For the last time (I refuse to make the same mistake again) I turned up on time for something in Bolivia, forgetting, of course, that everyone here runs on Bolivian time…

Here is a brief translation between Bolivian time and the rest of the world:

4 prompt = anytime between 4.30 and 5
4 o’clock = don’t bother turning up till at least 5 and we’ll get going by 6.
4ish = it may never happen

At the ‘posta’ (clinic) they use a different time system where no matter how early you turn up, nor how long you have queued for, you are already too late. Sarah has had a tough week wrestling with the Bolivian Health System, including a Kafka-esque Monday night that I hope I will have time to feature in another post.

Anyway, I was particularly frustrated this particular night because I was told that I needed to be ready and dressed up for 6 since I would be appearing as Jesus in the first song. To cut a long story short, I had agreed to play the part of Jesus appearing to a girl who represented a young Madre Micaela, while the Hogar’s choir sang behind us.

So I ended up hanging around causing no minor interest as I waited for the party to kick off since I was dressed as Jesus in a long white robe and red sash. I had also been given a wig (‘peluca’). I refused to put it on until the last moment a. because it was just way too hot to wear it and b. because its long curls made me look like some ‘70s rock-star Jesus who, having been unsuccessful in the auditions to join Led Zepplin and Queen, was now on the preaching circuit.

Eventually the party got going. We weren’t the first act after all. Instead the girls did dance after dance ranging from the traditional to rock and roll. They even did a Grease medley! I had to keep hidden out of sight of Madre Micaela to keep my eventual entrance a surprise. During the dances I discovered that the ‘Jesus song’ wasn’t till the end of the night after all and that before it was the
volunteers’ dance, which was coming up next. I dashed off for a rapid costume change…

Following the success of N*SYNCs comeback performance of ‘Bye Bye Bye’ in Montero the week before, we volunteers had been invited to perform another surprise dance. The night before the fiesta, we got together and knocked up a simple, yet effective, routine to the tune of Britney’s ‘Hit Me Baby…’ The premise behind out act was that I was to be the school ‘cool kid’ (hard to imagine, I know). The other volunteers, dressed in borrowed school uniforms, were then to dance round me, trying to get my attention as I stood still, impassive, looking cool. Now this is my kind of dancing…

It went down a storm with the kids, even if I do say so myself. Next up I had a super-quick costume change and I was Jesus once again, scary wig et al.

I felt so embarrassed to be looking so ridiculous that I actually completely forgot the words to the song that we were supposed to be singing. Still, it was worth it to see the look of shock on Madre Micaela’s face…

The combined effects of two consecutive dances, two high-speed costume changes and that stupid nest of a wig had left their toll. I came off after the song very tired and very hot. It was at this point that I uttered those memorable words that I never thought would pass my lips:
“Man, I’m a sweaty Jesus.”

Having a bad day? I have the cure for you...

On the whole, things are going great here and I am very happy. It is, however, tough work and there are plenty of ups and downs. There are some times when I wonder why I'm not staying here for a whole year and, naturally, there are some times (thankfully few and far between so far) when I get fed up with everything... At these times, the heat is just too hot and the whole 'speaking Spanish' thing is as if it were just a game devised by the girls to confuse and frustrate the gringo volunteers...

I had such a day on Tuesday. It was a very hot day, I felt unwell, certain kids had got on my nerves, I felt a bit stressed and I was just having one of those days. I was explaining this to one of the Madres just outside our kitchen when I felt something land on my arm... I looked up to find a very smug pigeon looking down at me: I had just been pooed on. 10/10 for timing anyway. The Madre couldn't stop laughing...

As it happens, being pooed on was quite a turning point. I went to have a long relaxing shower, and then a nap. Ever since then everything been great! The last few days have been really enjoyable... I've always been told that a bird pooing on you was a sign of good luck, and never really believed it, but I'm now a convert. The next time you're a bit down in the dumps, get yourself on down to your local aviary... ;-)

One more photo...

All aboard the camioneta.

Photos

Lorenzo, el loro - One of the parrots that live outside my bedroom

La camioneta blanca llena de galletas caseras - A truck full of home-made biscuits to be sold in Santa Cruz city

What's in a name

The name 'Simon', although I like it and I've become quite attached to it over the years, is, let's face it, not the most exciting name out there. Back home it's common and not all that memorable.

In Bolivia, however, it couldn't be more different. The national hero of the country is one Simón Bolívar – he lead the fight for Independence for South America from Spain in the early 1800s. The main football competition, the currency, even the country itself is named after him. I can't move in the Hogar without the kids shouting '¡Simón! ¡Simón Bolívar!' (the accent makes all the difference...).

In contrast to all the girls who learnt my name instantly, I'm still trying to work out who everyone is, put names to faces, etc. There is only one of me, whereas I have 100 names to learn –and half of the orphanage seem to be called María! I'm starting to recognise more and more names now and I'm asking '¿Y cómo te llamas?' less and less...

Interestingly, I've only been here 3 weeks and I've already been given plenty of nicknames. I have been called variously Simón, Simón Bolívar, Harry Potter, Frodo, Simun (dodgy attempt to pronounce my name in English), Simón el limón and, more recently, Timón (as in Timon and Pumba from the Lion King). Oh, and last night I was called Jesús by everyone (although that's a story for another time...).

'Simón el Dragón' never really caught on I'm afraid.

Food

The volunteers eat with the girls in the 'comedor'. This is the daily menu à la Hogar Sagrado Corazón...

Breakfast: a piece of bread (which isn't always stale) and a hot drink (usually one of tea, coffee or hot chocolate).

Lunch: The main meal of the day. Typically a chicken and rice dish, sometimes with cabbage. One glass of 'refresco' (which, because it's mixed with water, I have to decline).

Dinner: Another piece of bread. Or a bag of crisps. Or some biscuits.

Varieties on the above include having pasta instead of rice for lunch, and some days having a sweet jam or butter to have with your bread. I've heard that from now on the kids should be having a piece of fruit at least once a day, either with breakfast or lunch. Okay, so they're not quite getting their '5 fruit and veg a day', but it's a step in the right direction...

(Incidentally, although it sounds poor when it's written down like that, the food here is okay and, on the whole, edible. Plus we volunteers have the advantage of having our own 'cocina personal' – personal kitchen – where we can eat our own food: bread, biscuits/cookies, fruits, coffee, tea, etc. so I'm never hungry. In fact, I reckon I'll be putting a bit of weight on while I'm out here - the Madres are especially keen that I 'engordarme' or fatten up!)

El Día del Estudiante

Farmer Simon - Campesino Simón

N*SYNC
(Olivia, Genesee, Sarah, Me, Sandra)

Reggaetón and dancing nuns

Rightho, so I've let you know that I've arrived safe and sound (the journey, incidentally, though long was largely uneventful and I slept most of the way) and I've introduced you to some of the people at the Hogar.

Now I can finally start telling you about some of the many things that have been going on these past couple of weeks!

Last night, for instance, we had a fiesta! The 21st September here is el Día de Estudiante (Student's Day), as well as el Día de Amor and also the first day of Spring. So, as you can see, a party was indeed in order.

(By the way, it is weird to be celebrating the start of Spring in September. Plus, it's not comforting to know that Summer is approaching and it's just going to keep getting hotter and hotter and hotter...)

Anyway, despite obviously knowing that the 21st September is a big day, the Madres, volunteers and the Profes (teachers) only got together for the first time to start planning it on Wednesday (two days before). We had to basically plan for a whole evening's entertainment for the girls, inc. games, regional dances, prizes, etc.

Cue desperate last-minute preparations. We spent hours learning the 4 regional 'danzas' – each a different traditional dance of a different part of the Santa Cruz region. Fortunately for me, who is not a natural-born dancer by any means, the dances here mostly involve shuffling around and standing in the same place tapping your foot (due, I guess, to the oppressive heat..!).

Anyway, it all came together on the night. We (the volunteers and Profes) dressed up in traditional costume (we men were dressed as 'campesinos': white shirts, white trousers with the legs rolled up, and a sombrero) and the kids loved it. In between dances, the Madres organised the games for the kids while we got changed for the next dance. We also put on a military exercise march, a mock 'pasarela' (cat-walk) and then us 5 volunteers gave a surprise dance rendition of N*SYNC's 'ByeBye'. Justin Timberlake eat your heart out...

Afterwards, we got the BBQ going, the DJ put on some tunes and the party really kicked off. All the girls were dancing away and having a great time (reggaetón seems to be particularly popular with the teenage girls here – it sounds to me like a strange form of modern R&B and rap...). At one point I stopped, looked around, and realised that I was dancing on a basketball pitch with some fifty Bolivian girls, a couple of 20something Americans, and a few nuns. Very surreal, I can tell you. Credit to the Madres, though, they danced all night long with the girls, habits et al. I think Sarah summed it up nicely: “Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that one day I would dance reggaetón with a nun!”

Photos to be posted as soon as possible, of course.

I hope all is well in Merry Old England. Plenty more stories still to come. Feel free to email me, or post any comments on this blog!

An Introduction to the Hogar

Okay, first thing's first, I have to say a big big Thank You to everyone who sent me good luck messages before I left the UK. They were very much appreciated.

Secondly, I have to apologise for the messed up chronology of this blog. Although there are plenty of places to access the Internet in Montero, and the Hogar itself does have Internet in the Madres' office, I've just been far too busy to sit down and update my blog! Don't worry though, I have been keeping a written journal so that I can remember all my first impressions of the Hogar and all the many characters and stories here...

Thirdly, because this is a foreign keyboard, I apologise in advance for any typos, etc. Eg., for some reason the computer managed to change 'sunny' to 'zuñí' in the previous post, but I'm sure you got the idea...

Okay, so life is still going well at the Hogar. There are over 100 girls at the orphanage, the youngest being only a few months old. Normally the girls would stay at the Hogar till around 16-17, then move to Santa Clara, a house which is also in Montero for older kids where they can continue their studies, even go to University etc.

The kids are great, but rather mischievious. We were warned that they will know that you're a new volunteer, that you don't know the rules and that they will try to take advantage of you. Still, they've been fantastically welcoming to me, and despite a general tendency to lie, they are on the whole good eggs.

Three Madres (Mothers; nuns) run the Hogar and they really are brilliant – working tirelessly for the girls and up for a laugh with the volunteers. I'm sure I'll talk more about them in future posts.

There are other volunteers here too. Every year the US Salesians send a few out on year-long contracts to work at the Hogar. Sarah and Genesse are two girls from Texas who only started a few days before I arrived myself. Not only is it great not to be the only new kid in town, but they're both good fun and we seem to be getting along well.

Sarah and Genesse are replacing Sandra and Olivia at the Hogar who are coming to the end of their year here. They've been so useful – thelling us what to do, where to be, who to watch out for! – and we would have been lost without them (especially since the Madres do just let the volunteers get on with their work and don't get too involved if possible).

A third volunteer from the US will start here in a couple of weeks. She will be working in the 'juguetería' (the toy room where the youngest kids live from the babies up to and inc. kinder age), Genesse will be taking Olivia's hob and running the 'biblioteca' (library) while Sarah is taking over from Sandra and looking after the kids' medical needs, mostly at the 'posta' (clinic).

As for me, I'll be available to help all three whenever they need it, plus help the Madres in the admistration of the Hogar, and even, I am told, I might be trained to help Pancho (the caretaker and general factotum) with driving the girls to and from their schools in town!

It's brilliant to have the other volunteers around, a. to have someone to share the experience with and b. to be able to chat in English. Well, I say English. My (proper) English has not always coordinated with their (American) English, which has kept us entertained no end... Sometimes, Sarah told me, I say things that sound just like it came out of a film. Well living with you guys, I replied, is like living in an extended episode of 'Friends'..!

Arriving in Bolivia

I'm in Bolivia!

Can you believe it? I'm still struggling to get my head round it to be honest. Still, it's been a really great experience so far. I've no idea where to begin to start explaining it all, so I think I'll start with what I'm doing out here in the first place...

At the moment I'm sitting in an Internet café in Montero, Bolivia. It's a very zuñí day (not a cloud in the sky) although there is a gentle breeze (though actually that's just the air conditioning..!) What am I doing here? Well, I'm here largely because it's my day off. In the grander scheme of things, I'm here as part of my year abroad from Uni. I've been sent to Bolivia by the Salesian Volunteer group BOVA. To cut a long story short, instead of going to a Salesian school, the Salesians suggested that I go to Hogar Sagrado Corazón, an all-girls' orphanage here in Bolivia. I was told that they had plenty of experience with volunteers, that it was a reliable connection and, most importantly, that I had no better offers...

Four months after the word Bolivia first came into my consciousness at a training weekend in Macclesfield, I stepped out of a truck at the Hogar in Montero to be greeted by a small group of girls who (encouraged by the Madres) broke into a welcoming song.

Here I was, whether I believed it or not. One of the American volunteers was talking to me last night about how she couldn't get her head round that fact that this was to be her home for a whole year. In comparison, three months is nothing..!

I hereby declare this blog... Open.

To everyone out there in blogosphere and the real world,

Welcome to my first ever blog! I know very little about how these things work... From what I’ve gathered, these online diaries are used to document the mundane minutiae of people across the planet who unite under the principle that if someone has written something then it must be worth reading. Still, there well may be more to blogging than this and that may be just one of the discoveries I make along my journey…

More specifically, I have been encouraged to start this travel blog because I’m travelling to Bolivia from the sunny UK this autumn and it may well prove to be a useful method of keeping in contact with people and posting some photos. And if not, then there’s always facebook.

I’m not sure how this blog will work out. Perhaps I’ll manage to update it regularly, or perhaps this is already the last post. We will just have to wait and see how things pan out… Any comments received along the way will be greatly appreciated, and will no doubt motivate me to keep blogging!

Anyhow, it’s the day before I leave. My bags are packed and I’m now all set to go! I’m not going alone, of course: I have a small, but highly trained, assembly of travel companions [see previous post]...

ttfn,
Simon

Alex (the Aikido bear), Claire (the Shrewsbury fan bear) and Annabel (the monkey) look forward to their trip. The jam (strawberry) is also berry excited, only to be disappointed when later told that it won't be making the final cut into the suitcase.