Talita Cumi - Jose Maria, Luis, and Valaria

One thing that makes Talita Cumi stand out from other children's homes is that because we have both boys and girls, we are able to keep families together. We have a couple sets of brothers and sisters and it is a huge blessing to everyone. One of the families we have here is Jose Maria, Luis and Valaria. Luis and Valaria are twins and are 8 years old and Jose Maria is 9. They have been at Talita Cumi since 2009.

Jose Maria is a boy full of smiles. He is open and always ready to greet new people who are visiting. If you came to Talita, he would be one of the first to give you a hug and then pull you off the play a game of Uno or Rumicub.

Luis is quieter than his brother. He can get into his own share of mischief, but he has a sweet heart. He is really smart and enjoys studying and learning. We spent one afternoon reviewing all the Bible stories he had learned for an upcoming test. I think he was just as proud to recite them as I was impressed to hear them.

Like her twin brother, Valaria is shy and quite but has a huge imagination. She always wears a long strand of yellow beads and a mismatched bracelet. She can't sit still long enough for a movie but would much rather be playing make believe instead.

Please pray for these three beautiful children as the continue to grow and learn at Talita Cumi. The are a blessing to the 'tias' here and we are so thankful to have them.

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Jose Maria and Luis are in the middle and right, respectively. Juan de Dios, whom you met earlier, is on the left. Just in case you are concerned, I promise they are wearing clothes. The boys had just gotten done mopping and scrubbing the patio behind their house, an activity that makes shirt wearing rather impractical.

Election Day

Sunday was Election Day in Bolivia. Since I got here in August, there have been announcements and ads about the candidates. They were elections for the judicial offices in Bolivia and the ballot was larger than an average newspaper, over 50 candidates.

Election Day means everything is closed and quite. Vehicles are prohibited from being on the road unless you have a special permit. Voting is required here. If you don’t vote, you don’t receive your ‘carjeta’ . Without which, you can’t do any office business for three months without paying a fine.

 My host dad invited me to go with them to the nearby school where they were going to be voting. Voting is never a particularly exciting activity, but I reasoned this will probably be the only chance in my life I can see Bolivian voting and therefore I better not miss it!

We walked into the square, open school yard surrounded by class room doors. Each door was flanked by a table and labeled alphabetically. You last name determined which voting line you were to wait in. My host dad and sister’s last name starts with an ‘a’ and my host mom with an ‘o’ so we spilt up and my host mom and I stood in the ‘o’ line. There was a bit of confusion and discussion with the others standing in line with us because there were two ‘o’ lines but after double checking with the people at the tables, we stayed where we were.

You know how when your waiting and waiting, you start to suspect the line isn’t moving because if the line was moving, you would have been somewhere by now. I was having this discussion with myself when I 

realized the same women in the leopard dress was still in the front and we really hadn’t gone anywhere.

Little by little I was able to gather that the two people who were supposed to work at the ‘o’ voting table weren’t there yet. It was 10:00, voting started at 8:00 and they hadn’t showed up. A young man wearing a shirt with ‘Bolivian Elections’ on his breast pocket asked the 30 or so people standing in line if anyone would be willing to volunteer to work the table. But volunteering means sitting there until 6:00 p.m., at least, and no one was willing to step forward. Soon a police officer came over and asked the line, again, if anyone would be willing to volunteer. When he didn’t get a response, he walked to the front of the line and started checking IDs, looking for a volunteer to nominate. In a matter of moments, the orderly of people melted into  a crowd, milling around and pretending that their name didn’t start with an ‘o’.

Apparently the first few people who were too close to the front to slip away, had a good enough excuse, because soon the police officer gave up and wandered away. A few minutes later, by some unspoken signal that I missed, the line snapped back into shape.

I suspect the two people they were waiting for showed up but I can’t be sure because we left shortly after. My host family got tired of waiting and decided making lunch was a much more pressing. When my host mom returned later in the afternoon, she said she walked right through without a problem.

Getting Un-Lost Part 2

The roads are all generally rough here, so I scooted over to a window seat so I could be sure of what we were driving on. “Tar . . . more tar . . . dirt! Ok, so where is the second bit of tar? Goodness, we’ve been on this dirt path for quite a while. . . Wait, there aren’t many people on the bus any more. Uh oh, is the bus driver really telling me to get off?”

And all the sudden, I found myself in a dark neighborhood, next to a building that looked like a bar, and I was really lost this time. There wasn’t even taxis driving by. There wasn’t anything driving by really.  

So I did the only thing one can do in that situation. I started walking, confidently. And as soon as I was far enough away, I called Emily, whose only response to the situation was, “Where are you? Oh dear, I have no idea where that is. Are you sure you were on the 50?”

“I’m next to a soccer field, does that help? There’s people sleeping in it, no wait, there goats. There are goats sleeping in the soccer field, are you sure that doesn’t ring a bell?”

Finally, I gave in and asked an innocent looking women where the neighborhood I was looking for was.

“Barro Montare? Montare esta muy lejos. Muy lejos. No pudes cominar. Pero los texis aquí son pelegroso. Hay un iglesa cera and los taxis allí son mas seguro.” “Neighborhood Montare? Montara is really far. Really far. You can’t walk that far. But the taxis’s here are very dangerous. There is a church close by and the taxis there are safer.”

So I started looking for the church, all the while forgetting two things: 1. Bolivians really want to give you an answer, even if they don’t know the right answer; and 2. Bolivians don’t like to walk. Anything more than two or three blocks is considered lejos. 

Fortunately, Emily was still on the phone with me.

“Ok, I don’t see a church, but I’m on a busier road now. There’s a taxi . . .  but its parked. Is it safe to get in a parked taxi? It sounds like a bad idea to me. Wait! There’s the circus! I’m walking towards a circus! Do you know where the circus is?”

And with that I was able to re-orientate myself and start heading in the right direction. Moments later, both my and Emily’s phones ran out of credit. I stopped to ask one more time how far the neighborhood I was looking for way and got the same answer – its really far, you can’t walk there from here.

But not more than a couple minutes later, I met Emily on the road walking towards me and together we made it to her house where I was able to enjoy an evening to English and chocolate chip cookies. Two things that have both become huge luxuries in my life.

How do you feel about Nicaragua?

I went into this year with a lot of expectations. Some big, some small, some acknowledge, some unacknowledged. Nevertheless, I expected it to be a year of surprises, changes and growth. It looks like I’m not going to be disappointed.

Last Wednesday, MCC called everyone to the office, including Christa who is working 8 hours away and has to take an overnight train to get back to Santa Cruz, to tell us that our year long visa has been denied.  There are a myriad of reasons the government isn’t going to let us stay, none of them have much to do with us.

That means that as long as our 30 day extension is approved (which is should be), we have until November 19^th to be in Bolivia. We were informed that MCC would try to find another placement for us, preferable in a Latin American country. Since then, they have been in a frenzy of activity, finding potential placements for the 6 people (5 Americans and 1 Honduran) who will soon have to leave. They have 30 days to find us a new country, new jobs and new families to live with.

Yesterday I received word that they may have a placement for me in Nicaragua. I don’t have any details yet about what the job would entail or even what city I would be in. As Zulma, the SALT coordinator here, was telling me about it, she asked me, quite seriously, “How do you feel about Nicaragua?”

I don’t know how I feel about Nicaragua, but I’m trusting that this is part of God’s plan for my year. I will be sad to leave Talita Cumi, the children and my family here, but I’m excited to get to see and know another country.

Prayer Requests:

Please keep me and the other 5 SALT and YAMANers in your prayers as we live our last three weeks in Bolivia and prepare to move to another country.

Please also pray for MCC in Bolivia and the other Christian organizations here. They seem to be under a lot of scrutiny from the government.

Thank you all for your love and support!

Alyson Buschena

Getting Un-Lost Part 1

The sad truth of the matter is, I get lost – a lot. Its not so bad in the states, usually, but put me in a new city with no street signs, where everything looks the same and I’m pretty much a lost cause. This really doesn’t bother me that much. I figure I’ve gotten lost plenty of times in my life and I’ve always been able to get un-lost again. I’ve never been lost forever and there is no reason to think that the next time I get lost will be any different.

Last week I was invited to have supper at my friend Emily’s house. I double checked with a couple people which bus I needed to take after work and was confident I could get there. Things were going well until we went past an ‘Hipermaxi’. Hipermaxi’s are the Bolivian equivalent of Wal-mart and not the kind of thing you would leave out if you were giving directions. Emily definitely didn’t mention an Hipermaxi. 

I gave her a call. Thank goodness she knew where I was and was able to give me new directions. By now it was 6:30 and dark out and I was waiting on the side of a busy road for a bus I was beginning to suspect didn’t really exist. I saw three 44’s, 23’s and an assortment of other number. I felt like I was in Vegas, hoping the next number would be the one I was betting on. 

It finally drove by and as I flagged it down, I was glad to see it wasn’t so full that I would have to stand. Bolivain buses are made for short people. Inspite of my family’s claim that I am a shorty, statistics say I am above average by two inches. In Bolivia, I’m above average by at least a head on most people. Therefore, when I stand on a bus, not only do I have to do the uncomfortable head tilt to fit, but I can’t see anything out the windows except the curb and an occasional pair of standing feet. This does nothing in helping me get unlost.

Emily gave me very clear instructions: “Once you get on the 50, you’ll be on a tar road for a while, then “dirt, when you get back to the second tar road, give me a call. I’ll be outside waiting for you so you can get off when you see me.”

Talita Cumi - Grismaldo

This is Grismaldo. He's one of our younger boys at age 6 and has been here for two years. Grismaldo is one of the two boys that I work with almost daily. He has a heavy stutter and although I'm told he's come a long way, he still has a hard time communicating sometimes. 

Nevertheless, he always has a good attitude when we work together. We sit down on the couch in the boys house and practice saying Spanish sounds, consonants and vowels. Right now we're working on cra, cre, cri, cro, cru. He's patience with me when I don't know the answers to his homework questions and it always quick to smile.

Please pray that Grismaldo will continue to improve his speaking skills and that he would grow into a strong, confident person here at Talita Cumi.

Lightbulbs

I’m sitting in the kitchen drinking tea and eating a sweet roll the boys here made yesterday while they were making enough bread for the rest of the week.  When the door bell buzzes, Teresa hops up to answer the door.

“Tia,” Josalyn says, “Como se deci polecia en ingles? Policeman, verdad?” How do you say police in English? Its policeman, right?”

I nod my head.

“Mira, hay 3, no 4, no 5 policeman aqui.” Look, there are 3, no 4, no 5 policeman here.”

Why? I ask.

No se. I don’t know.

And since she appears unconcerned, I figure its just another Bolivian thing, I continue on with my breakfast. When I walk past them on my way to the office, I see that they are young, around 18, but dressed in full army gear, camouflage, tall black books, and full back-packs.

When I get to the office, I ask Ester, the co-director why they are here. I think she says something about lightbulbs, but that doesn’t make sense and since trying to figure out what she means will probably take both of us a long time, I wait until Heidi gets here so she can explain it.

Heidi came in late, but I finally figure out the story. The government was sending men around to replace lightbulbs. So Talita Cumi got five lightbulbs from the president because our electrical bill was high enough. Not just us, these guys are stopping at every house, to replace lightbulbs.  I can’t help thinking that if only the president would send these men to fix a real problem, things could be a lot different here.

Talita Cumi - Teresa

Let me introduce you to another one of the children I get to work with everyday. This is Teresa. She is 13 years and every morning when I ring the buzzer, I hear her voice shouting “quien?” before unlocking the door for me. She has learning disabilities and is home school here at Talita Cumi. She’s always ready with a smile and makes really, really good empanadas.

Teresa has undiagnosed medical problems. The tias here aren’t sure if she suffers from mild epilepsy, charges, or something else. She was hit, a lot, when she was younger and we suspect that is the cause of many of her problems.

Please keep Teresa in your prayers this week, her health and her development here at Talita.