Bed, Bugs, & Beyond

Things in Bolivia have been a bit turbulent over the past two weeks.  Because our director is leaving next semester to start a new project in a town a few hours away, the orphanage has turned into a revolving door. Thankfully, the father of a volunteer family here at Familia Feliz has agreed to be the acting director for the next school year.  In order to get the new school off the ground, the old director has been taking some of the kids and volunteers on week-long field trips to help him at the new location. The volunteers who will be staying next semester, including myself and the other SM’s, have been holding down the fort on campus.  With so many of the kids gone, though, it has been hard trying to plan classes. This new development has brought about a couple of interesting results.  First, because the director is no longer permanently staying here, the kids from his house got divided up into the remaining boys’ residences. When all the students have returned from helping at

I’ve been in Bolivia for just over two months now, and life has settled into as much of a routine as is possible in the mission field.  Nothing ever really starts at its scheduled time, but I at least have the order of things pretty well memorized. For the first time in four posts, I don’t feel like I am just overflowing with stories of what happened throughout the week.  As a result, I figured I would share what daily life looks like in Bolivia with a story or two mixed in for good measure. Each weekday starts at 5:15 am.  I wake up and get ready for PE, then wake the boys up at 5:30.  Waking them up usually consists of me singing Camp Wawona’s famous “Good Morning” song at the top of my lungs--the boys love it.  I then teach PE for half an hour where we play soccer, “darebase” (also borrowed from camp), sharks and minnows, or do a workout. Everyone then returns to their houses to shower, have personal devotions, and do their chores.   Anywhere from 7:45 to 8 is worship eit

I’ve been through a range of emotions and experiences the past few weeks.  “Frustration” was the word of the week two weeks ago. On a Sunday at the beginning of that time span, I found myself trying to handle and discipline all ten of my boys on my own.  One of the fellow volunteers from my house went with a group to the basketball court down the road, and the other went... well, I’m not actually sure (more on this later). This left me alone with the boys on the day with the most free time, and therefore, the day with the highest likelihood of mischief.   Half the boys were finishing up a punishment where they weren’t allowed to play soccer and I had to keep my eye on them to make sure they didn’t sneak outside.  At the same time, some female volunteers had set up a slip-n-slide for the girls near the river--conveniently visible (for my boys) from our upstairs window. I spent all afternoon running up and down the stairs asking, and at times, physically pushing the kids away from t