TACO BELL

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 either held in our house or as a big group in the church. Following that is a race to breakfast in the “big house” where the kitchen and dining area is. After breakfast, the kids either go to class or are assigned to work, as are the volunteers. I have Monday off (in which I can go to town after breakfast and have to return before dinner), and teach two classes on Tuesday and Thursday morning. Every other morning and afternoon during the week, I work. On Fridays, there isn’t any work, so I have the morning free and then help in the kitchen for dinner.

I feel as though I have really connected the most with the kids during work time. Coming in to this experience, I knew communicating was going to be a struggle with my limited Spanish. Because of this, I vowed to work my tail off in order to connect with the kids and hopefully earn their respect. In carrying out this promise to myself, I was quickly recognized as a hard worker and now get assigned to help the older boys almost every day out in the field. I say, “out in the field” because we rarely do the same work for more than a couple of days, but it always takes place in the 6-7 total acres around our little compound.

Our first task was to machete all the trees in a two acre square just outside the “big house”. After about a week, we had finished clearing all the trees and were moved to another field in which we planted and watered lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and chili peppers for a two week stretch. In this time, we also built a roof of palm fronds over some of the lettuce where dew will collect in the morning and then drip down during the day to water the plants. On one of my days off, the boys started a fire to burn off all the excess brush in the newly machete-ied field (I was pretty bummed to miss out on that unique work experience). Since then, we have been carrying out big logs that didn’t burn up completely and planting plantains in this new field.

After work and school, we have about an hour to clean up and get ready for dinner. Of course, this is usually interpreted by the kids as 45 minutes of soccer and 15 minutes of lightning quick showers (actually quite do-able since the water is freezing cold). Once dinner has finished, we have an hour of study hall, followed by worship, and then bedtime. Most days I’m in bed and asleep (usually upon head-pillow contact) by 9:00--an absolute blessing.

On especially hot nights, the boys will sometimes ask me to join them on the floor of our living space. I’d like to say they ask to do this because they love me so much that they want to have a sleep-over of sorts. In reality, though, they just want me for the fan I have in my room. One night, about a week ago, we were all fast asleep downstairs when I was rudely awaken by a small hand slapping my forehead. I figured it was just the boy next to me, so I shuffled over a little bit and tried to fall back asleep. But, the little hand went back at it! Next, it targeted my leg, then my arm, and finally my lips. “Bwwahhhhh!”, I screamed, “stop that!” (Apparently my Spanish turns off when I’m woken up in the middle of the night.) I flashed my headlamp, ready take on whichever kid had the audacity to wake me up so rudely. But, no one was there; frightened by the light, a tiny frog bounced away into my mosquito net as I realized what had actually happened--había besado un sapo! Thankfully, I didn’t receive any ill effects after my “Princess and the Frog” moment, but I was a little suspicious. How had a frog gotten inside of my my mosquito net? It didn’t take to much thought to figure out that one of my boys had pranked me (later confirmed by the prankster himself), and pretty well at that.

Friday evenings signal the beginning of the Sabbath, which we usher in with an outdoor worship. When worship is over, everyone moves around the circle giving hugs and wishing everyone else “Feliz Sábado”. This Friday evening tradition has become one of my favorites around here and always leaves everyone in high Sabbath spirits. The next morning, we enjoy a late breakfast, after which we go to Sabbath School and church. I had the opportunity (read: was assigned) to give the sermon a couple weeks ago in which I spoke about “Faith in Action”. I think with a few tweaks and some added content to fill in the time it took for the translation to be given (I hope to be able to give one sermon in Spanish by the end of the year.), I can develop it into a full-length sermon.

The rest of Sabbath afternoon blends together with lunch, free time, and a Bible activity which rolls right into another outdoor, sundown worship--only this time we wish each other “Feliz semana”. All Adventists know what sundown on Sabbath means: game time! With Sabbath officially over, everyone gathers in the “big house” for a riveting game of “Jump Up and Down While Yelling About Colored Shoes in Spanish Until Your Calves Give Out” (see video below UPDATE: I forgot the video, will post next week). Of course, we play other games as well, but this one seems to dominate every game night. While the games are running, a dinner consisting of pipocas (popcorn--coincidentally my favorite word to say in Spanish), cookies, and piping-hot lemongrass tea.

Sunday morning begins with me collapsing onto the ground for lack of feeling in my calves. The morning routine is pretty much the same except after breakfast we have community service. Sometimes we work on campus, other days we go to town and hand out books or some of our produce, we may even go across the street to the house of the “popsicle lady” to help her sweep the dirt off of her dirt (Yup, you read that right. It’s actually quite tedious getting the dirt swept just right). Lunch is then served and the rest of the day is free.

I realize this post is turning into a bit of a book, but I can’t finish without mentioning our visit from Santa Claus. Okay, not exactly, but I’m convinced Christian Bunch (our student missions director at Southern) is the next best thing. This past Tuesday, he strolled onto campus with two suitcases full of goodies. First and foremost was the Taco Bell burritos and hot sauce he brought us. I may eat more than my share of beans and rice here in Bolivia, but it isn’t TACO BELL beans and rice. He also brought items from friends and family, some of which were specifically requested by us missionaries. But, the best part of all was the notes and letters I received from friends back at Southern. I plan to keep them well within reach for whenever I need a pick-me-up or some encouragement, and I want to thank everyone who had a hand in sending the “care package”--you have no idea the impact you’ve made. Although he couldn’t stay very long, Christian was able to spend a solid couple of days with us in which he provided all kinds of encouragement, advice, and missionary wisdom.

As exciting as it was to see Christian walk up our little dirt road, it’s nothing compared to the excitement we will have when we see Jesus coming in the clouds. One of the things Christian warned us about while he was here is the tough goodbye coming up in our future. It was hard saying goodbye to three of my boys a few weeks ago when they were sent home, but at the end of my time here, I will have to say goodbye to seven more from my house, plus all the other kiddos here. Thankfully, we don’t have to say goodbye for long, though. When that glorious day comes, goodbyes will cease to exist. I can’t wait to have one great, big “Feliz Sábado” circle in heaven where I will get to see my boys again, Grandma “Strawberry”, Kevin Canavan, Otto the Chicken, my dog, Bailey, and other loved ones and pets. See you there.

TL;DR

We kind of have a schedule here: wake up early and make sure everything gets done before the sun goes down. With the language barrier, work has been my fast track to earning the kids respect. Bolivian frogs don’t turn into princesses. I gave my first full-length sermon here in Bolivia, and hope to give one in Spanish by the end of the year. You haven’t done Saturday night right until you’ve jumped for 30 minutes straight while screaming in Spanish. Santa C. Bunch came to town and brought all kinds of good cheer--snacks, notes and supplies. TACO BELL. Jesus is coming back soon and I can’t wait.