Teacher Mason “Carpa por si Llueve” Dominguez

It’s been a little over two weeks since school started, and contrary to what I thought, things haven’t settled down at all. Although I’m stressed about my responsibilities, sleep-deprived, and sick again, (this time it’s a stomach bug) I can’t help but be excited. Southern is sending a group for a short-term mission trip to Familia Feliz this Friday! After reading the list of people coming on the trip, I was slightly disappointed to see that I only knew one. I had hoped to see some friends, but it will be fun to meet some new people, and receive my second care package of the year! (We don’t have a mailing address and, therefore, only receive things when they are sent in person). The one person I do know from the list happens to be a relative of mine and also my physics professor from Southern, Dr. Hansen. We had a pretty good teacher-student relationship, but I always enjoy the chance to get to know my professors outside of class as well. We are already planning some fun demonstrations for my physics classes here at Familia Feliz.

I think the excitement will be a nice change of pace on campus as things have been a little bleak lately. In the past couple of weeks, we’ve dropped in number by one volunteer and three kids. The dietitian who came to be in charge of the kitchen came to the realization that this wasn’t the setting for her. She was under a lot of stress having to cook three nutritious meals a day for picky kids while doubling as a house parent. It’s put us in a difficult position as far as the kitchen, but I completely respect her decision. Although I’m sad to see her go, it proves that life here can be difficult. Familia Feliz, and missions in general, is not for everyone, and that’s okay; but I’m proud of myself for sticking it out and for the work I have done here.

I was equally sad to see one of my best students in the senior class leave. After a weekend home-leave, she returned with some bad news. Because she had just transferred this year, her old school was planning to charge her for their loss. She was doing extremely well in a special program there, and they were very upset to see her go. Although a volunteer offered to pay the fee, her mother felt that it was best for her to return to her old program, and she left that same day.

The last two departures were probably the saddest of all and involved me directly. After the first full week of school, I was scheduled to do the Sabbath school lesson for the teenagers, and my house was in charge of kitchen for the weekend. This resulted in a very stressful Friday afternoon of preparing the Sabbath meals, (we can only warm food on Sabbaths, cooking is avoided as much as possible) and writing the lesson study. When I had finally finished making cinnamon rolls in the kitchen with just enough time before worship to shower, the director pulled me aside. He explained that he had received a phone call in which the caller claimed to see one of the new boys from my house in town. Upon further investigation, we found that two boys from the house were missing: the new one, and “Merrick” (see “‘Teacher Mason’ Becomes a Student”) who had not yet been located.

A search party was sent into town and both boys were found unharmed. Earlier, the new boy had asked me for his money (the volunteers keep all of the kids’ money to prevent theft) to buy a new school polo shirt. He and Merrick then used it to catch a ride into town. Upon their return, a mandatory meeting was called for the whole school. It was explained that stunts like these were unacceptable due to our relationship with social services. If something had happened to one of the boys in town, it would go on our record and could result in the forced closure of Familia Feliz. It was then announced that both boys were being kicked out of Familia Feliz--the new boy back to his home, and Merrick to a yet-to-be-determined location that can hopefully handle his disabilities It is very unlikely that either will be under a Christian influence anymore.

As a parent of the house, I felt directly responsible. I had figured the kids who weren’t helping me in the kitchen were just outside playing soccer as usual. I had let my supervision responsibilities slide which resulted in two kids being kicked out of their Christian atmosphere. I am now the self-proclaimed record holder among the remaining volunteers for “Most Kids Kicked Out of Familia Feliz” at five total. It’s been a difficult title to bear, especially after the latest incident. Everyone says that I shouldn’t hold myself responsible and that it was the kids’ fault, but I refuse to believe that I am completely blameless. With a little more awareness and different priorities, I feel as though I could have prevented everything.

In the midst of this guilt, I received a comforting sign. Last week on my day off, I was due to renew my visa. Staying in Bolivia for longer than six months is tricky and expensive business with lots of potential downfalls. I got stuck in one of those downfalls after being presented with the idea of re-entering Bolivia on a tourist visa. The tourist visa would be renewable for up to three months, and then I would only have to pay a fine for the last two months of my stay. This option sounded pretty great to me as I would be paying less than expected for the last half of my time here, and could conveniently obtain the visa during my travels with Corbin over Christmas. After Corbin had bought his plane ticket and we had all of our travels planned, I was warned that entering on a tourist visa might not be the best idea after all. Staying in the country after my visa expired would be illegal. I was told that in addition to breaking the law, I would potentially need to bribe officials, and risk being blacklisted from the country in the future due to my overstay. We were also told that volunteering at Familia Feliz is still considered work, and therefore means for immediate deportation if caught on a tourist visa instead of a working visa.

At this point, though, much to my dismay, it was too late change plans and I ended up coming back in on a tourist visa. To stay the full three months on the tourist visa, it must be renewed every 30 days. The first renewal went smoothly and no questions were asked. This past Wednesday, I had to go in to renew for my final thirty days on the tourist visa. When I got to the immigrations office in Rurre, I saw that the same person who had renewed me before was working at the desk. If he recognized me, it would appear that I hadn’t traveled at all since my last renewal and cause some questions to be asked. Thankfully, or so I thought at the time, another officer came in and had me go with him to do the renewal. As soon as I handed him the papers and my passport, he asked me, “Are you from Familia Feliz?” (Familia Feliz is quite well-known throughout Rurre.) I was put in a difficult spot. Having to lie at all in the first place about my visa wasn’t something I was excited about, but telling the truth in this instance could get me deported on the spot.

I decided to stop being dishonest and just trust God to work it out. I mumbled back a, “Yes” and then affirmed more strongly, “yes, I am from Familia Feliz”. He smiled back approvingly and began to look through my passport. After his “thorough” examination, he gave me some papers explaining how to renew a working visa. Now came the real test: whether or not to tell him that he had overlooked the fact that I was on a tourist visa. I stayed true to my honesty and alerted him of his oversight. At that, he stood up to go talk to the other officer and I got up to follow him. “Please don’t move, sir” he commanded me. At this point, I began to pour out my heart in prayer to God while they discussed things for several minutes--”This could be the early end of my service here” I thought.

Finally, the officer returned. He explained to me what was going to happen. First, they would give me thirty more days on my tourist visa, and then I could return and purchase a working visa for the remainder of my stay! No one had told me about this option before! As far as I knew, to get a working/specific purpose visa, you had to apply through an embassy, and do so outside of the country. My prayers had been answered: I wasn’t getting deported, I wasn’t going to have to stay in the country illegally, and I got about a $100 discount from what I was originally planning to pay in fines. In my opinion, it was a miracle. Or, at the least, a prayer answered above and beyond what I had asked for. Most importantly, it proved to me that despite my failures in parenting that has resulted in five boys being sent home, God still has a future planned for me here and is blessing me on top of it.

As for the others in my house who haven’t been sent home (yet), they’re a rowdy, but good bunch of kids. It seems that with each new group, I earn myself a new nickname. With my new kids, I am referred to as, “Teacher Mason ‘Carpa por si Llueve’ Dominguez”--literally: Teacher Mason “the Tent for When it Rains” Dominguez. They’ve also taken to calling me just “Carpa”, “Carpita” (little tent), and Masón masudo Masón (No clue what that means). I’m sure there is some hidden meaning to my new nickname, and if there are any native speakers who would like to explain it to me, I’ll give you a shout out in my next blog and bring you a souvenir from Bolivia (or if I forget, make you an empanada). I like to pretend that they call me that because, just like a tent when it rains, I protect them from the harsh elements on the outside.

Recently, there has been no lack of harsh elements here. With all the rain we’ve been getting, we’ve had a few problems with our electricity. For several days in a row, the power would go out in the evening causing us to lose water before our after-work showers and forcing us to go to bed sweaty--a much more difficult task when you can’t plug the fans in either. Other issues included dead computers and phones, shopping runs to town for drinking water, and huge puddles leaking from freezers and refrigerators. We eventually learned that the power outages were actually being caused by permanently damaged lines that had to be replaced in some sections.

The power outages gave me an even more pessimistic view of the electricity situation here. Since I’ve been here, the 240 volt standard (US is 120 V) has given me nothing but issues. Here is a comprehensive list of things I have received a mild shock from:

-shower head

-shower handle

-water from the shower

-outside of the washing machine

-damp clothing in the washing machine while trying to take it out

-the plug from the washing machine while trying to unplug it to avoid being shocked

-light bulb socket after assuring there was no current with a multi-meter

-bench grinder

-tractor mowing blade while holding it for someone using the bench grinder on the other end

(We don’t have a normal hand-held shop grinder, so we removed the bench grinder to use by hand for sharpening the stubborn tractor mowing blade--that’s Bolivia for you…)

As you might expect, just plugging something in gets my adrenaline pumping these days.

I think if I could give God a nickname, it would be “Mi Padre Celestial, la Carpa por si Llueve”-- “my heavenly father, the protection for when it rains”. During my time in Bolivia, I’ve gotten to know God on a more personal level and feel like he truly is my father in heaven. I also feel that He is much more deserving of my nickname, at least with my interpretation of it. He is our protection for when it rains, and for so much more. Last week, I was able to experience that protection first-hand with my near-deportation experience. Surely there have been many other times when He has protected me without my knowledge!

TL;DR

Southern’s UQuest mission trip will be arriving this Friday! Thanks to all who brought things to put into my package that they are bringing. We’re down a volunteer and three kids, two of which I was directly responsible for, sadly--“Merrick” is one of them. I nearly got deported, but God made a way and blessed me on top of it. You can just call me “Carpa” these days--unfortunately, I wasn’t able to live up to my new nickname when the disastrous rains came and permanently damaged our power lines. Life in Bolivia can be shocking. I may not live up to my nickname, but God does.