Bolivian Beyblades

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 the new project, I will have my seven original boys plus four new ones from the director’s house.  This will undoubtedly cause turmoil and require some adjustment, but hopefully no more adjustment than when I first got here. Another result is my roommate’s absence. Currently, I have the room to myself for a week while he helps out at the new location, and next semester he will be going there for good.

His departure will be somewhat bittersweet.  Although he still doesn’t pull his own weight around the house, he has been helping out more than before and we are finally beginning to understand each other a little better (both in language and in culture).  Furthermore, after he leaves and the other volunteer in my house returns to his home in Mexico next semester, I will be the sole “parent” in my house. This will leave just four male staff at Familia Feliz: the new acting director, the husband of the school nurse, the other male SM from Southern, and myself.  With three boys’ residences that accommodate ten boys each, things start to look intimidating from my position. The nurse’s family has their hands full with young children of their own meaning there are just three of us to handle the boys’ residences. Taking care of ten boys on my own would certainly be possible, but it’s always nice to have another volunteer around when the patience wears thin.

Another thing that has Familia Feliz in an uproar is the top addiction.  For the Bolivian equivalent of a few cents, you can purchase a little wooden top that comes with a string for spinning it.  Pretty much all of the boys here have one. The tops are conveniently small enough to be stuffed in one’s pocket for use during free time, mealtimes, and work time--when no one is watching.  They are also extremely versatile and can be spun in a number of places including, but not limited to: the floor, tables with and without food, my desk, my bed, my hands, and my head.

I often get back from teaching class to find a circle of kids furiously winding up the strings on their tops to participate in a game that I have started to call “Bolivian Beyblades” (If you’re from my generation and don’t know what a Beyblade is, you had no childhood.)  One brave player starts by placing their top on its side in a circle drawn in the dirt. The other players then take turns spinning their tops, popping them up onto their palms, and throwing them at the stationary top. If any player fails to hit the top in the circle or muffs the initial spin, they go on the chopping block and switch out their top with the stationary one. The goal is to bump the immobile top into another circle a few feet away after which the owner of it gets a slap on the wrist from each participant.  Even after figuring out the rules by watching a few matches, I still couldn’t understand what was so great about these tops… so I bought one. LET ME TELL YOU! These things are addicting! Spinning them takes some finesse and after I finally learned, it’s been hard to put it down. I guess if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

Another thing I’ve been quite excited about these past few weeks is my latest cooking success: empanadas.  In my limited experience with cooking, I’ve never had something turn out so well on the first try! They may not be ultra-thin and crispy like the ones found in town, but they have a great flavor.  So far, I’ve made them with cheese filling and cinnamon apple filling (Still kinda hung up on the Taco Bell from a few weeks ago.) They may take a lot of work, but they make for a special treat when my kids have been exceptionally obedient.

As you may recall from my first post in Bolivia, I was pretty excited about teaching despite my apprehension before arriving.  I am quite pleased (and maybe a little surprised) to say that the excitement hasn’t worn off! A lot of work goes into teaching, and I’m not always so “gung-ho” about it, but I enjoy it far more than I expected I would.

Earlier this past week, I received one of the best compliments I think a teacher can receive...

(Translated into English)

Student: “Teacher Mason! Why is there so much homework in your class? You’re the only teacher who gives homework after every class. (not true)

Me: “Uhhh… the other teachers don’t give you homework after class?”

Student: “Not after EVERY class! But, it’s okay because I’ve learned a lot of English in your class and I enjoy it.”

Me: (speechless for a few seconds) Well, uh, thank you! I like my class too!

It’s hard NOT to enjoy teaching when you receive that kind of praise!  

Little do the kids know, I’m busy doing homework of my own!  I may be a missionary, but I am still a student just like them.  Southern offers a “Student Missionary” class in which you do a few assignments over the duration of your service and earn twelve credits.  As a part of the class, we were assigned to write a 400-800 word story about our experience. Although some of the content overlaps with what I’ve written in my blog, I think it turned out pretty good so I wanted to share it here as well (huge thanks to my editors: Dad, Mom, and Corbin).

Enjoy:

As a veteran summer camp counselor, I thought I had the “single dad of seven” gig down to a science.  At twenty years of age, I felt I already had some pretty good experience under my belt as far as child supervision.  So, when presented with the opportunity to take a year off from school to be a house parent and teacher at an orphanage/boarding school in Bolivia, it was a no-brainer.  Little did I know, I was about to be pushed off into the deep end of the pool known as “parenting”.

At our orphanage, Familia Feliz, there are some key differences when compared to summer camp.  First, is the language barrier; nearly all of the kids, and some of the volunteers speak only Spanish.  Another major difference is the amount of time you have with the kids. At summer camp, you get a new group every week.  Even if you have a tough camper, there’s always the light at the end of the tunnel in which a new week begins and your problem camper goes home.  In Bolivia, I live with the same ten boys for an entire semester. With these differences, I feel that my situation in Bolivia is much closer to what I imagine parenting is really like.  

With the same group of kids week after week, it’s only a matter of time before conflicts arise.  Discipline is a way of life here, and any inconsistency in punishment only causes more issues. I quickly learned that punishment isn’t just a trial for the kids--it’s just as bad for the parents and sometimes worse.  Someone has to make sure the “disciplinee” follows through on their penance. This idea of “dual-punishment” became clear one sweltering Sunday morning as I worked with my boys in the fields. After discovering my boys playing a crude game, another teacher had given them the task of planting plantain trees while everyone else went to town for ice cream.  Of course, as their “parent”, it was my duty to stay behind and make sure they worked, a task I find much easier when I work alongside them. I didn’t do anything wrong, but as the guardian of my seven boys, I received the punishment as well.

Getting sent home is perhaps the harshest of all the punishments given here at Familia Feliz.  One of the biggest challenges I’ve had to face so far as a parent was parting ways with three of my boys when they received this punishment.  These three were probably the toughest of all my boys to deal with, but contrary to what one might think, it was extremely difficult to see them go.   It’s really a lose-lose situation, as many of the kids come from broken, and sometimes, abusive families. As volunteers, we lose in that we no longer have the power to help and influence the kids; and, as one of my boys demonstrated in begging not to be sent home, the kids lose because they have to return to whatever, often difficult, home situation they have.

Such a punishment is only given when the recipient has acted in a way that threatens the well-being of others, which, was the case with my boys. But, what should be done when a child is begging to stay for fear of what his or her parents will do when they find out the offense? Sadly, I had no say in the matter, and the decision was made to send them home.  I went from being a father of ten to that of seven in a matter of a few days. This was just another lesson in the harsh world of parenting. I never realized how quickly a parent-child bond forms, or how it would feel for that bond to be torn apart. Even though I had only had the boys for a little over a month, my heart went out to my three troublemakers and was promptly broken as they packed their bags with tear-stained faces.

The love I have developed for my boys has given me a new perspective on the love that God has for us.  His love is beyond our comprehension, but just like me with my boys, our relationship with God has been torn apart by the sin that plagues the world.  Thankfully, God had a plan to deal with sin. Jesus would be sent to receive our punishment: death--even though He didn’t do anything wrong. God truly is a heavenly FATHER--suffering on our behalf .

TL;DR

The last few weeks have been a bumpy ride with kids and volunteers coming and going to the new project a couple hours away.  Four new boys will be joining my house and both of the other volunteers in my house will be leaving next semester--yikes! Wooden “Beyblades” have been taking Familia Feliz by storm and I’m catching the fever too--Let It Rip!  I’ve added empanadas to my cooking repertoire and have been receiving some high praise from my students. Meanwhile, I’m still a student myself and wrote a story recapping some of my experiences for my SM class. Dios verdaderamente es un padre celestial.

P.S.  When Christian, our SM director, came a few weeks ago, he interviewed me and took some video of the SM’s here in Bolivia.  To see the video, click here and skip to the time: 22:08.

P.P.S. For the videos below you can click in the bottom right corner to make it larger.

 First try at empanadas

 Franz and I photo-bombing some other SM's

 The animals and insects here are just like those in the U.S., but with body kits.

What happens in study hall when the kids don't have homework.

 Jumping game mentioned in last week's blog

Bolivian Beyblades