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.