Ya no Estamos en Kansas, Dorothy

The past few days have been very significant in that I am now within two months of leaving, and, therefore, have truly started to consider how it will feel to depart. I miss home, I miss my friends, and I miss the college life, but those are all things that I knew I would return to when I left them. Leaving here is different. I may have future opportunities to visit Familia Feliz with Southern mission groups or independently, but it’s also possible that I will never see this place, or the kids (until heaven that is), again. With two months remaining, I’ve really started to battle with leaving a project that I’ve put so much time and love into. I’ve poured my heart into my work here with the kids, and in two months I leave all of that behind. It won’t be an easy goodbye.

I’ve really started to feel at home here in the outskirts of Rurre. I’m a regular at some of the market stands in town where I chat with the vendors and sometimes receive “aumentos”--extra produce thrown in with my purchase for free. I’ve started to recognize quite a few of the locals and strike up random conversations with them in passing. In my spare time on my off day, I have started teaching English to one of the migrations officers who helped me with my visa. I love the small town feel here, and it’ll be hard to go now that I finally feel like I’m becoming one of the “locals” (ok, let’s be honest, I would probably never pass as a true local).

Continuing to reflect on my year as an SM, I’ve been thinking about some of the things that really caught me off guard when I first arrived. Some of them have become everyday occurrences for me, while others continue to stand out. It turned into a bit of a list, so I’ve decided to share it here as it relates directly to the topic of my apprehension in leaving:

Things I’ve gotten used to:

Frequency of upset stomachs - Salmonella, E. Coli, food poisoning--we’ve got it all! I usually don’t even get diagnosed anymore. Charcoal and Imodium is all I need.
Constant screech of the bugs
Sweating profusely while eating - food is hot, and we don’t have AC. I think I will actually miss eating sopa de maní (peanut soup - my favorite traditional Bolivian dish) and pouring with sweat. I would probably sweat less while eating if I didn’t eat so fast, but by dinnertime, I’m usually pretty ravenous. I will miss the feeling of being so hungry that the temperature of the food doesn’t even matter and is worth the sauna-like deluge of sweat.
Limited internet
Throwing TP in the trash can instead of the toilet
Cold Showers - I actually prefer them here as the weather is so hot.
Eating everything with a spoon (have you ever tried eating spaghetti with a spoon? I’m a pro now) - forks and table knives are almost nonexistent. I remember eating with a fork for the first time during my Christmas travels. I was on a tour with a bunch of strangers, and I felt super self-conscious because I had completely forgotten how eating with a fork and knife works. I swear it felt like they were all watching me and judging me.
Slow deterioration of my electronics - My phone barely charges, my computer is filled with ants, and I have to carry a separate keyboard/mouse with my computer at all times.

Things I STILL am not used to:

Trying to understand the kids when they are angry - they always mumble and talk really fast. My untrained ear for Spanish struggles especially in these moments.
Legs constantly covered in mosquito bites - Just this past month, I scratched a little too hard and ended up with a few infected bites. Those infections spread to any other scrape I got on that leg which I fought for nearly all of the month of March. They never seemed to heal, but when they finally did, my leg was left with pink, polka-dot scars that will forever remind me to stop scratching.
Treatment of women in Bolivia - Anytime I go to town with female SM’s, I am always blown away by the whistling/comments made by the local men. My boys say it’s normal here and is done because, “Bolivian women like it”. Either they are making a statement without consulting the affected party, or that truly is the culture here. Regardless, I’m not used to it, and I’m not a fan.
Seeing leftovers from the last person to use the bathroom.
Concept of personal space - the kids here don’t have much respect for personal boundaries, especially when it’s really hot. I don’t mind giving/receiving a hug or pats on the shoulder, head, etc. But when it’s 90 degrees outside with 80% humidity, I would rather not share body heat with a sweaty teenager who decides they can get through the cafeteria line faster if they maintain constant contact with the person in front of them.

With my trip home rapidly approaching, I ask myself if I will ever get used to the things in the second list, and if I will lose my tolerance for the things in the first list upon returning. By now, with all my apprehension out in the open, you may be wondering if I’m planning to stay another year instead of going home. Well, that’s not the case. Although I will have to leave the place that I have poured myself into, I know that when June rolls around, it will be the right time to go.

Staying any longer could jeopardize my application to medical school as there is an “expiration date” placed on pre-requisite classes. Essentially, I would have to retake General Biology again if I extended my stay here. My time in Bolivia has shown me that, although difficult, the life of a missionary is one I am capable of living if I choose to do so. I have also learned how fulfilling service can be. Leaving Familia Feliz may be one of the hardest experiences I will ever face, but doing so will put me in the position to serve as a doctor in the future whether it is at home or in the mission field.

It may seem like I’m not excited to come home after my rant, but that is not the case. Last week on my day off, I decided to go on a hike near the school instead of going into town, and it really got the nostalgia flowing. Another SM and I walked down the road to a muddy path through the jungle that leads to a river. After squishing through mud for an hour, we emerged into the relatively clear river that resembled many of those I’ve explored near Southern. We then splashed upriver in search of a waterfall per Merrick’s recommendation. Of course, considering our source of information, we didn’t expect to find much. Our expectations were fulfilled, but it was still a nice way to get out on our day off and do something that brought back memories of home.

I actually felt like I was near my home in Tennessee as we tromped through the jungle bordering the river until I climbed the cacao tree. My hiking partner had never tasted cacao before, so I put on my best Bear Grylls/Survivor act and valiantly climbed the tree to secure what could be the only scavengable food all day (never mind the mandarins, bread, and cookies I had in my backpack.) What I forgot was that the jungle was in survival mode too, and I had just become public enemy number one. As I shimmied up the tree (shimmied is maybe too strong of a word considering my lack of coordination in the moment--let’s go with “slogged up”) poisonous plants and ants were quietly getting into position to ruin the rest of my day. When I finally reached the fruit, I popped it off the branch, tossed it to my partner, then slid down the tree fireman style. “aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH” I shrieked as the burning, itchy rash appeared all over my hands, arms, and legs. Being only one hour into the hike, I wasn’t ready to turn back, so we waited to make sure it didn’t worsen, and continued along with me scratching carefully (See? I did learn my lesson from the infected mosquito bites) with the blade of my machete (Okay, maybe not).

I survived the itchiness, but it seemed to be a bad omen for the rest of the day. A little while later as we were navigating up the river, something got a hold of my big toe. “Ya no estamos en Kansas, Dorothy!” I screamed (correction: wish I had screamed). I didn’t know what had gotten a hold of me, but I had seen some crabs in the water earlier, and the pain felt like it could be from a pincher. When I pulled my foot out of the water, there was nothing! The pain was one of the most intense pains I’ve ever felt, but thankfully, it only lasted for about 30 seconds. I still don’t know what it was, but I’ve never felt anything like it. After all of that, I was certain that we were in Bolivia, not midwestern wheat fields nor back home at Southern.

Although Merrick’s bad information about the waterfall led us astray, his behavior has been much better in the past few weeks. As you may remember, he was one of the two who snuck off into town and was due to be expelled from Familia Feliz. Social services was trying to find a place for him to go to receive the mental help he needs, but some legal issues came up. This means that Merrick will be here at least until I leave, which I was prepared for all along. Thankfully, he seems to have taken to our camp-like cleaning grades and has started to improve his cleanliness and attitude. He even offered to help a boy who was moving into our house after leaving his old house due to bullying issues. It seems to be a real answer to prayer, but if Merrick reverts to his old self (a cycle that has been repeated several times throughout this year), I will only pray harder for God to continue working on his heart.

While God has been working on hearts, my boys have been working on getting swole. Jhon, my oldest boy, has started waking up at 5:15 every morning to work out. Then there’s José who brought adjustable dumbbells from home to lift during his free-time. It seems the workout craze has spread to both Seth and I as the boys have been encouraging and “coaching” us during our own free periods. We do have the dumbbells, but they aren’t heavy enough to work out the larger muscle groups. I’ve started to improvise on my old lifting circuit from the states by using bricks, 25 kilo weights from the tractor, and a particularly heavy wooden post that I use as a barbell. We may not have all the best equipment, but I can still get a pretty good pump during my time in-between classes.

With all the working-out going on, I recently made a parallel for the boys in one of our family worships. In order to gain muscle mass, you need to be disciplined and stick to your schedule. To grow in our relationship with God, we need to be on a schedule too--a daily one. But, it’s not just the timing that counts. To strengthen muscles, there is a need for proper nutrition and protein intake. In the same way, we need to feed our spiritual lives correctly--with the word of God. It’s a short and simple comparison, but, for my boys at least, it’s very applicable. Now when we scream “proteínas!” when we see that we’re having beans for lunch, they will hopefully remember my worship talk and apply that same enthusiasm towards getting the correct spiritual nutrition, too.

TL;DR

It’s hard to leave a place that you’ve sacrificed a lot for. I’ve started to feel a bit more like a local although I still have some things to get used to here. Saying goodbye will be difficult, but I don’t have much a choice with my career path, and I know it will be the right time. Went for a hike that brought back memories from Southern--big surprise: I’m not Bear Grylls. Merrick seems to be in the process of changing, but, like before, it could all come crashing down. Prayers are still needed for him. We be gettin’ big in Bolivia, but only by improvised barbells and beans. Spiritual workouts should be fueled by the right nutrients, too.