It’s a choice

Moving to a new country means a lot of things, most of the good and exciting. However, it also means more orientation.

Life is different in Nicaragua. I’m different in Nicaragua, already. Some changes are good - I discovered I love pineapple, especially white pineapple. Some changes aren’t good.

When we were going through orientation, one of the things they spent a lot of time focusing on was safety. I suppose its an issue where ever you are, but it seems to be more so here. Crime rates are high and being robbed on the street seems to be inevitable when you are here for a long period of time.

So I took their advice. I walk with my head down, purposefully and with confidence, like I know where I’m going, even when I don’t. I don’t stop, I don’t linger, I don’t smile, I don’t make eye contact. I ignore men when they whistle or yell things at me. I don’t let their comments effect me and I move quickly to where I’m going next.

But before I knew it, I started to assume that everyone was a bad guy in disguise and that if I slipped up for a moment, if I hesitated or showed weakness, they would sense it. I began treating everyone with fear and distrust.

And then I was on the bus going home. It was crowded, but not too bad, I’ve been on worse. And as I was standing there, I watched an older women climb up the stairs. She did a quick scan to make sure there weren’t any open seats and then prepared herself to stand for the rest of her bus ride. But right away, the young man who was sitting hopped up with a smile and though she stumbled a bit as the bus began to move, the young women in the next seat smiled and laughed as she steadied here and helped her sit down.

As simple as it sounds, in the moment, I realized they are all just people too and I was looking at all of them completely wrong. I would rather error on the side of thinking the best of everyone than to think the worst of them.

Update

In spite of the changes that have happened in the last month, I haven’t been able to write. I suspect its because I don’t know how I feel about everything that is happening. Nevertheless, it is high time for an update on my life and the continuation of stories from the Southern Hemisphere.

On November 18, the 6 service workers that travels to Bolivia left the country, heading for different places -2 to the states, 1 to Honduras, 2 to Nicaragua and 1 to Costa Rica. Leaving Bolivia was hard and making the decision to continue my year of service was harder. Home and comfort were tempting, especially with the holidays right around the corner. But I believe I made the correct decision and am currently settling into life in Managua, Nicaragua.

I hope to write more soon, when I have more regular internet again. Until then, know that I am doing well and am enjoying the new adventures that come with a new country.

My Saturday

 I keep hearing about winter creeping closer and closer to all my friends back home. I hate to make you jealous, but this was my Saturday.

Hillsong

Let me give you a snapshot of my Tuesday night:

I’m standing in the middle of an open soccer stadium. Its dark and I can see an almost full moon, just over my right shoulder. The day has finally cooled down and every once in a while, I can feel a cool breeze brush across the top of my chacos.  I am surrounded by people - Spanish speaking, Bolivian people. The three other ‘gringas’ and I are bobbing blonde heads in a sea of black.

In front of me, too far away for me to make out their faces, is Hillsong, one of the most well known  worship bands, who has traveled all the way from Australia to South America for the first time. The band only speaks English but most of their songs have been recorded in Spanish and it seems like everyone in the Evangelical world here knows them.

And so I stand there, listening to them singing: So I’ll stand, with arms raised and hearts abandoned, to serve, the one who gave it all.

Slowly the words being sung by my neighbors filter through the English: Aquí estoy Mis manos levanto hacia Ti Jesús te entrego hoy mi ser

So there we were, two languages praising God with different words but with the same heart.

An American/Bolivian Wedding

This Satuday, one of the missionaries married one of the pastors from my church. The prevous Sunday, she made a point of announcing that the service was going to start at the ‘gringo’ time of 4:00 on the dot. “Please don’t be late,” she said, “we are going to start on time.”

When my family and I got back from the Bolivian Farmfest, it was already 2:30. I was a bit nervous because I knew everyone had to shower and get ready yet, but I all I could do was get myself ready, and see what happened. By 3:30, we hadn’t left yet, by 4:00, we hadn’t left. Finally at 4:45 we were on our way. 

“Don’t worry,” said my host mom, “I called one of my friends, they haven’t started yet.”

Sure enough, when we got there we had 15 minutes left to settle ourselves into our seats before the prelude music began. The outdoor service was short and simple.  The American bride´s dress was simple but the Bolivain groom made up for it. He reminded me of a watered down Willie Wanka – lavender suit, pink shirt and a silver striped tie.

Afterwards, we went upstairs for the reception of empanadas, lemon bars, blonde brownies, and cooked and sweetened corn that I can never remember the name of. I think all the Bolivians were confused at the lack of meat. Afterwards we had to stop at a restaurant to get ‘pollo’ chicken for my host sister because she was still hungry.

Instead of a dance, they had a short program of music and friends giving short messages for the couple. I can’t tell you how many Bolivians asked me why all the Americans kept clinking their glasses with their silverware. They thought it was a sign of displeasure or that we wanted the program to stop. Apparently that tradition has not made it to South America yet.

I wish I would have had another Bolivian wedding to compare it to. There were plenty of things that were familiar but just as many that were a bit different.

My New Friend

This picture was taken in my bedroom. I´m standing next to my door looking up. When I showed my host mom and asked her if that was a problem, she said, ¨Oh no, they eat bugs, they are good to have around. You should have seen the really big on that was in the kitchen last week. This only is chicatingo (really small).¨ And with that, she left the room so I could go to bed.
So I decided to do the only thing possible, given the circumstances and would like to introduce you to my new friend Alfred. My only fear I that I am going to wake up some morning to something like this:

Bolivian Farmfest

“¿Alyson, quieres ir al campo mañana en la mañana? Conozco que estas interesada en el campo.” “Alyson, do you want to go to the country/field tomorrow morning? I know that you are interested in seeing it.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what I was getting myself into, but because my host Dad here works with agriculture and farmers, I figured he was right, it would be something I was interested in and would want to see. 

John Deere in Bolivia! Who would have guessed?

So we drove about a half hour, out of the city, past all the factories that make Santa Cruz the industrial center of Bolivia, until the only things left to look at were palm trees and short shrubs. When we got to the second toll booth, we did a u-turn and pulled into a field that had been converted into a parking lot. Suddenly it clicked, we weren’t going to look at fields, we were going to the Bolivian Farmfest!

Farmfest holds a special place in the heart of my family. My Dad tries to go almost every year and many times my siblings and I have gone with him. Afterwards, we always bring home a bag full of free pencils and a huge bag of fresh kettle corn.

Bolivain Farmfest was a bit different. Instead of giving away pencils, there was meat. Huge slabs of steak, and whole pigs being roasted over coals at almost every booth. And who can eat meat without a cold drink to go with it. There was beer, soda and chocolate soy milk in bags, all being given away.

Nevertheless, there were plenty of things I recognized. Booths with vendors, some brands I knew like Dekalb, John Deere, and International, and many South American brands. There were tests plots with corn and soybeans and other test plots with sunflowers, and sorghum. 

Men stood around, talking smart, comparing notes about planting and harvest in a manner I knew all too well. Vendors talked about their products, what was new and what made it better. And pretty girls (wearing less than they ever would have in the States) handed out pamphlets and brochures.

 I don´t think we stayed as long as my host Dad would have liked, but I think he enjoyed showing me around and introducing me as his daughter and then not explaining himself. I wish you could have seen the confused expressions we got as they compaired my skin to my host parents´.

An AgCo SprayCoop - Which I was so excited to see.  I don´t think my family believed me when I told them I´ve driven one.

Christmas Cards

 Like I mentioned last week, at Talita Cumi, we’ve been busy making and sending out Christmas cards! When you live over 4,000 miles away, you have to get a head start on these things if you want them to get there before spring.

Earlier this week, we had all the kids writing letters to their sponsors. Talita couldn’t function without the support of sponsors in the states and it is very important to us to say thank you and show how much they mean to the children here.

Because I am one of two English speakers here, I got the job of translating the letters. Here are some of my favorite lines:

Luis is a sweet quite boy with a smile to melt your heart. I’ve never heard him get scolded or yelled at and is rarely in trouble. His card read: “Hello. Merry Christmas. I know that I am a sinner. Luis” It seems we need to work a bit more on the grace part of the Bible.

Shirley is a young girl who tries to be good, but who keeps getting in trouble at school. She is an instigator and likes to cause mischief. She wrote: “Merry Christmas. I am studying at school. I hope to be better behaved one day. God bless you, Shirley”

Juan de Dios, whom I’ve mentioned a couple times before, had no front teeth until a couple months ago. They didn’t come in and the other children made fun of him and called him ‘abulito’ (little grandpa). This year he got a bracket put in to help his teeth grow and to avoid a costly surgery. In his Christmas card he wrote:  “Hello. Merry Christmas. This year, I got my teeth. Juan de Dios.”

Talita Cumi - Tiburcio and Juan Carlos

 Tiburcio and Juan Carlos are two brothers that came to Talita Cumi 2 years ago. They were both born in a small town close to the border of Argentina and were found wandering the streets one day. Their parents had abandoned them or they had become lost. Like many of the children here, we’ll never know their full history.
 

Tiburcio is 14 years old. He’s one of our older boys and is one of two boys that is allowed to be on a local soccer team. I don’t see very much of him because he is gone in the mornings at school and in the afternoons for soccer practice. But all the tias speak highly of his and of his leadership among the younger boys.

Juan Carlos is the second of the two boys I do speech therapy with. He is 12 years old but has slight mental disabilities and is far below his learning level. Nevertheless, he is eager to learn. He is always excited to work with me and excited to go to school. Every morning, he is ready at 7:30 in his school uniform - blue pants and a crisp white shirt he washed the day before. He wanders around the children’s home with his backpack on until 8:15 when he finally gets to leave for school. He has a sweet heart but also struggles with his anger. He is one of the boys that the tias have to keep an eye on because he emotions can change instantly and he can become very aggressive. 

Please keep these two brothers in your prayers as they continue to grow here at Talita Cumi. Please pray that Tiburcio will continue to develop and mature as he gets closer to 18 and life outside of the children’s home. Please pray for Juan Carlos, that the tias would have the wisdom and resources to help him and that he would continue to learn and improve both intellectually and behaviorally.