Parece un sueño (like a dream)

Well! I’m back in Santa Cruz, and no matter how many times I pinch myself (and I actually have, many times!) it still feels a bit like a dream, or like I’ve gone back in time. Things have changed here in the two-and-a-half years since I left (the little juice packages I used to drink are smaller, riding the micro costs 20 cents more, the kids have grown like weeds) but even though things are different, it still feels so natural to be here, so much like home. Little, familiar things I didn’t know how much I missed… those are the things that really get me! The neighbourhood kids poking their heads in the window, wanting to play. The way our bathroom door creaks. Being smushed together with strangers on the micro. Freezing cold showers. Eating cunape, salteñas, and peanut soup. The smell of the kid’s shampoo. Chickens running around the house. Being called Tia (Auntie) Keemberli. Having time to think while doing laundry by hand. All these little things are exactly how I remember them, and I feel so blessed to get to experience them again. Luis Enrique, one of the younger kids at the orphanage looked at me yesterday and kept closing his eyes and then opening them, looking at me and said, “Tia, parece un sueño que usted esta aqui.” (Tia, it feels like a dream that you are here). Yep. It does. Like the best dream I’ve ever had.

My sisters were at the airport waiting for me with balloons! We got home and they had made me a sign and bought a cake that said welcome home kimberlee! Lots of pinching. The next day we took a bus with all of the young adults from church 4 hours into the countryside, through these beautiful mountains, and went swimming under some big waterfalls. Sharing all of this with Catherine, the SALTer who is here now, is such a neat experience — it’s incredible to have someone who understands life here as well as back home to be able to talk about everything with. The kids at Talita Cumi are on summer vacation now – perfect timing because we get to spend lots of time together, and also because I can make myself useful as another tia to take care of this dear group of hooligans!  One of the special memories from when I lived here was teaching a small boy named Grismaldo how to read. We spent hours with phonics flashcards, and it was neat because I was learning to read in Spanish too. Yesterday he shyly asked if he could read to me — so we sat and he read me the same books I always used to read to him when he first came to the home and didn’t know the alphabet. That was pretty special.

Pray for the Bolivia, and for the kids at Talita Cumi if you get a chance? There has been a ton of staff turnover since I’ve been gone, and I worry about how this affects kids who have already been hurt and abandoned so many times. I am not looking forward to saying goodbye again. And yet… I have faith that these kids will be okay.  They are better readers, better soccer players, taller and tougher than they were when I left. They’re growing up!

A chicken just jumped up on the table where I’m sitting, looked at me, and hopped down.

Ha! I’m going to miss this place.

seatbelts, english speakers and toilet paper in the toilet

We’ve arrived saftely in Akron for debriefing last night.  Its lovely to hear the stories of the other SALTers – such diversity of experiences! It is a little weird to be back though too… in the airport I kept accidently speaking to other people in spanish and getting weird looks. Lots to adjust to.

Brrrrr!

Today, after being prayed for by my host dad and the pastor in front of the church (because it was my last day with my host fam today… beautiful, wonderful, special but emotionally draining, I am so tired.) someone asked me what I was excited to come back to.  You folk, is of course the obvious and most important answer, but I also thought of something else. I was standing there, wearing.

leggings

leg warmers

normal socks

wolly socks

a tank top

long sleeve top

jeans

stretchy pants over jeans

a sweater

another sweater

a coat

arm warmers

a scarf

and a winter hat

And I was STILL COLD.  I should be able to handle this as a Canadian, no? This is Bolivia, and Santa Cruz at that… winter should be nothing in comparison to ours back home. The difference here though, is that there is no heating… so you never really warm up. My window doesn’t really shut, I’ve been sleeping on my arms for extra body heat, and haven’t washed my clothes in ages because that means doing them by hand (cold hands!) and that I would have to take them off (no way!).  When I said I was excited to get to Canada to warm up, everyone was very confused, since the general perception is that of snow and ice….

Anyways, that made me laugh. Hope you are all doing well! I will see you very soon! I am excited for some hellos, to balence out the magnitude of goodbyes that have been this week. Some hellos will be very good indeed.

Fifteen more days of Talita Cumi. Ten. Three. Two. One. None.

Breathe, Kimberlee.

I must admit I´ve no idea how to convey how I am feeling right now.  This is therefore probably a bad time for a post…. but there are  SO MANY things to do before heading out, and writing a blog post is one of them, so I am just going to do it now while I am near a computer (mine is virus ridden, and there are so many donation info letters that need to go out for TC, go figure!) I know that posts that simply list events are often boring. I apologize, but feel it is all I am up for right now.

Well, Tuesday was my 21st birthday. It started at midnight with a great phone  call from Canada, which was then  interupted by my family singing birthday songs with a cake outside my door.  Very happy.  Very blessed! Then, at Talita Cumi they  made me a special lunch. I ate a chicken neck, foot and heart… and liked it. Everyone sang for me . The kids all made a line and hugged me happy birthday, one by one.  Some made cards.  Then, the orphanage gave me a guitar as a birthday/goodbye present. A guitar! The kids all signed the front.  Finished up website stuff.  Read a book with my most snuggly boys called ¨Un beso en mi mano¨about a mama raccoon who kisses her son´s hand so that he can put it on his cheek and feel that she loves him when he is at school and misses his mom.  We then all kissed each other´s hands so that we could remember that we love eachother.  The mama racoon in the story said that kisses don´t wash off, so the boys (and I!)  were content.  We did some homework. The boys were very happy that they didnt have to shower because it has been really cold here lately. We played soccer.  Tuesday night, stayed up all night writing each child a letter, then printed out a zillion photos to give away, and stuffed them in each decorated envelope. This took forever but I really wanted each card to be as special as the child who was going to recieve it! Then Wednesday morning, my last day the tias bought lemon pie and we had a surprise ¨despidida¨or goodbye party while the kids were at school. They said so many nice and encouraging things about me. They gave me chocolates and a piece of art that they had all signed.  So happy, so blessed! That night the boys made me a special dinner and a bunch of cards.  I gave them all their cards, which they loved.  Before dinner we had some ¨palabras¨and each of them biggest to smallest, shared a special memory that we had together or something that they had learned from me. This was absolutely beautiful. Jose Maria (7) couldn´t say anything, just cried and cried, and so we cried and hugged together.  After a million hugs and goodbyes and writing down of email addresses, it was time to do it all over again with the girls. They gave me so many funny little things for ¨recuerdos¨ like old stuffed animals and diaries without a key and uno cards.  Hilarious, and heartfelt.  We laughed and cried, and the taxi came, and we laughed and cried somemore. The taxi driver was getting impatient.  One last hug for Yoselin, and it was time to actually head out.  So I did.  And now, the day after the to-do list is looming but I can´t get them out of my head to concentrate.  I feel it will be that way for a while.

two things today that made me smile…

– We’re on winter holidays here at Talita Cumi, which means more time for just hanging out and less homework. This afternoon I had the immense pleasure of cuddling up with Wilber and Juan Carlos and reading about a zillion stories together.  After Cinderella, Snow White, You Are Special and various Bible stories we ended up at the Christmas story. Their commentary was great. They could not believe that the bible characters were walking around in bare feet – this is a big no-no here at TC, we have a rule about having our flip flops on at all times. Wilber just couldn’t accept the fact that Mary really was a good person if she wasn’t wearing her flip flops! When I asked Juan Carlos if he knew what gifts the wise men brought to baby Jesus, he replied “Lots and lots of shampoo.”

– Juan de Dios and I are in the kitchen, cutting green pepper for dinner. He stops, hugs me tight around the middle and looks up at me with huge brown eyes and his goofy haircut (courtesy of Jenny, a girl at the home who is taking hairdressing lessons). He asks me to guess if I love him a lot or a little. He says a LOT and tells me that he loves me “hasta llega al fin del mundo” or untill the end of the world. Then he remembers verses about a new heaven and a new earth. We talk about heaven a bit, and how great it will be, and how we will get to pet the lions, and maybe even ride them. He tells me that I am not allowed to ride the lions with anyone else but him. We decide to ride the lions together first, and then the dinosaurs.

the beginning of the end

Eeeks.  Time is going so fast I am not going to even apologize for the slight blogging hiatus. It´s mid June. I can hardly believe it, though I was warned the year would fly by. Ten months have gone by! Here I am in the middle of June, and it is the beginning of the end of my year of service, learning and adventure in Bolivia.  What does the middle of June look like for you right now? For me, June 2010 is…

…the taste of fresh sugar cane that the kids sell by the side of the road where I get my afternoon micro home…

… the joy of having Jose Maria run, jump into my arms and say, ¨Tia, I luf you mucho mucho mucho¨…  

…  the familiar feeling of being squished, always so squished on the micro…

… the adventure of making dinner with twelve boys in the kitchen…

… the hilarity of watching spanish novellas (soap operas) with my sisters. The swordfights are really just so ridiculous i can´t help but laugh (my stage combat training as a UW drama student has made me a little critical, I suppose…)  

… the heartache of praying and crying for a long, long time with a new boy at Talita Cumi who´s mother was recently killed. Pray for Mario please!

… the new experience of helping to lead a group of 40 Americans from Kansas and North Carolina around Santa Cruz! A lthough I was doubtful at first about how we could be effective given the sheer number of volunteers (we lovingly referred to them as our ¨gigantagroup¨) this was a very rewarding and fun experience! I was so blessed and encouraged by the time that I was able to spend with the group, and certainly learned a lot!

… the opportunity to represent Canada in a big mission´s conference with the LIEB network of churches in Santa Cruz. I got to march in with a big Canadian flag and sing a song about missions infront of the congretation last night with a bunch of others representing different countries or departments of Bolivia. It was really fun, though I must say that ¨traditional dress¨ of Canada is pretty boring compared with that of the different departements of Bolivia!

… the fun of laughing my head off with Esther and Fanny, the two other Tia´s i work with whom have truly become great friends.

Mid June is lots of other things too, but more than anything it feels like the beginning of the end of something very special.  The knowledge that I have less than 20 days of work left and just a few more than that in Bolivia tends to make everything a little bittersweet… though I´m trying not to focus on that yet.  How do I squeeze every bit of opportunity out of this last month, live every single segundo (second) to the fullest? I´ve made a count-down calendar of the amount of days I have left to emotionally prepare the kids (and myself) for this goodbye…. but it´s still going to be another abandonment all the same.  I´ve made a ¨Bolivia Bucket List¨ of things to do before the end, such get better at Salsa and Samba, buy a guitar, finish up a zillion million office sponsorship loose ends and things, write a fantastic last Talita Cumi newsletter,  take JOselin (spunky 10 year old aspiring actress) to see some professional theatre,  write a letter to the new salter, go to Semipata with my host family, learn how to make saltenas and cunape…. but I know I won´t be able to get it all in.

What does my time here really mean in the grand scheme of things? What does it mean to me, my host family, my talita cumi family and even my family in Canada? What have I learned about myself, God and the world that will shape the way I live when I get home?  Lots of questions buzzing of course, it´s been good to realize that I don´t have to have answers or conclusions or life truths before July 20th, just my bags packed.  Untill then, I guess I just hope and pray that I can love like crazy every day, really finish well.

Feliz Dia del Madre!

Today is Bolivian Mother’s day… a big deal, I’ve learned!  The girls were up early making pancakes, bread, orange juice, eggs, bacon, toast, tea and coffee. The boys did a hilarious drama at lunch for everybody.  I even recieved two bracelets, earrings, a necklace, lots of cards and a cool mug with a cat on it! That’s not all though…  Saturday we go to school to eat and eat and eat and watch the kids more drama, sing and traditional dances!  It seems to be a deeply sad but also deeply special/significant time for most of the kids. What an honor to have this place in their lives!  It makes me miss my own mom, yet at the same time want to stay here forever and keep being one in a team of  mums to these 30 hooligans.   Don’t take this to mean that I’m not excited to see all you people… but it is going to be hard to leave this place. I get quite the knot in my stomach just thinking about it. Gracious.

The nuns on the bus…

I´ve become used to the fact that wherever I go around here, people stare.  Mostly little kids, who don´t know it´s not polite, but really everyone. This can be a little frustrating, because I feel so normal here now. I am very much at home in this city, very familiar with how the micros work, everything is routine, I feel like I fit in… but unless I purchase some black hair dye and spray on tanner, I will never look like I fit in. 

Today however, not long after I got on the bus that I take to work each morning, a group of nuns from the Catholic church across the street from my house also boarded the micro.  SEVEN nuns in full out garb, one elderly but the rest all quite young, all chattering a mile a miniute… in CHINESE! Their enthusiasm definetly made me smile, think of movies like Sister Act or The Sound of Music, and wonder which one of them was the maria or spunky one. At least two or three of them seemed like they could have been!  Anyways, today these seven chattering chinese nuns were a much bigger spectacle than I on the morning micro, so nobody paid any attention to the little gringa squished up amongst them in the corner.

Maybe when I return to Canada I will find it weird that nobody cares when I get on a bus, weird to blend in and just be part of a crowd. Today though, it was lovely!

Parenting

Being a parent is really hard work.

This isn´t really news, I know. About half of the population of you kind folks who read my ramblings are maybe parents yourselves, well aware of this information due to first hand experience.  Maybe my own parents are secretly finding it quite funny that I now understand their side of the story when it comes to trying to keep a straight head amongst the antics of  several young hooligans!

Hanging out with my twelve hijos (sons) brings me incredible joy each day… but it can also be a little tiring sometimes. Parents have to cook a lot, I am learning.  They àlso often get woken up in the middle of the night. They also have the privlege of cleaning up excessive amounts of vomit and diarreah. They get whined at. They aren´t always listened to.  They sometimes feel like all they ever do is clean up after their kids. And children are expensive! They are always growing and needing new clothes. School fees, doctors, dentists, not to mention bills of every sort and variety can be quite daunting. School projects that keep us up in to all hours of the morning painting, cutting, pasting together… all part of the parenting experience, I guess. Then, there is the headache of disipline.  There are so many books to read, so many formulas, so many different ideas about disipline that someone always thinks you are doing a bad job, no matter how you approach things. The gap between cultural values here and my North American idealism is so huge. And even just consistency, which I think is key, is hard. 

The other day it got so intense that I understood, for a miniute, why some people abuse their kids. I wanted to lock a certain little boy in his room for about a month. Do not worry, dear readers, I most certainly did not. But I understood for a second how someone could do such a thing. I think I am learning that there is no such thing as a perfect parent. I think that most parents do the best job they know how to do.  Unfortunately, many of the kids are here at the home because their parents didn´t know how to be good parents. And while the situations that so many of them come from make me extremely angry, I can also see how these things really can be generational, cyclical, how closely our parenting styles reflect those of our parents. Without even meaning to, I find myself using the same strategies and even saying the exact same things I heard at home! I now understand how my mum feels when she says¨Whenever you play like that someone gets hurt¨ when we said not to worry, we were only playfighting. Or, ¨If you are going to roughouse, you have to go outside.¨ Or ¨ Two wrongs don´t make a right.¨ Or ¨Why do I have to tell you to do everything multiple times ? I don´t like nagging, please just _____ !¨ To me, it´s humerous to find myself using the same language I heard growing up, and understanding these dynamics from a different perspective… but for someone who didn´t have a positive experience growing up, I can imagine how easy it would be to fall into the cycles of abuse that they knew as children, especially if they are young parents – a phenomenon that is certainly not of short supply here. Even though I  love, love, love my twelve little boys more than anything, I am more than ready to go home at the end of the day (well, the days I don´t sleep over)  and leave the craziness of the orphanage behind for at least a few hours. I cannot imagine what it would like to actually have children of my own at this age, as so many girls do.

Well, I´d better go – rest time is over and the boys don´t have homework so they want to watch television… which means once again I´m off to give my best attempt at expressing my concerns over what they are wanting to watch without sounding like a nag! Humm… Before I do though, a quick shout out to mom and dad –  I miss you and love you and appreciate you both so much! And to all of you who are living in the same continent as the people who raised you… go hug them!

Esperanza

Esperanza is one of my favourite spanish words. It means hope.

 There are a lot of things I hope for… so many dreams,  things I would love to be and do , and also about changes I would love to see in the world. This year, I have been really blessed that most of my hopes I had for my time here have happened. I have a great relationship with my host family, my co-workers and the kids at the orphanage. I have learned a lot. I am so blessed.

One of the things I am learning is about realistic expectations to put on myself. With just a few months left, how can I use this time to it´s full potential, get as much as possible out of the experience and give every possible thing that I can to the fantastic organizations for which I am working?  I think that I am fufilling my job description, yet am not quite satisfied with myself. I feel like there is so much more that could be… so many dreams for the orphanage yet to be accomplished like teaching dance classes, or drama, making the website better, getting more sponsors, facilitating life changing learning for the american work groups that volunteer at the orphanage, creating a performance with the older girls as a product of our group therapy session about healing from abuse…  the possibilities are endless! Then, there are also my vague, deeper goals of being an instrument of our creator´s amazing love, and helping to make Talita Cumi a place with a culture of peace,  a place where conflict is dealt with restoratively and everyone is treated with respect. 

The gap between my dreams and imaginings and the actual reality is hard though. I´ve all these ideas, and some of them have come to fruition, but at the same time, I am exhausted  just by daily life. Recently, conflict within the staff has been very stressful and difficult, making it hard to focus on much else. So the dreams are on the back burner for awhile.  

 One of my co-workers often says ¨Oh, Kimberlee, you are so young and idealistic¨… as if this is a bad thing, or at the very least, quite naive. As if I should grow up and realize the world is the way it is and it is not going to get better.  I am young and idealistic, no doubt about it, and probably quite naive as well. But does that mean in growing up, I should chill out when it comes to hopes and dreams and idealism about what could be?  

Ephesians 3:20 says that God can do immesurably more than we can ask or imagine. This is nuts to me… because I can imagine A LOT.  Like less sexism, machismo, and sexual abuse. Like teens who get the chance to express themselves and have a voice to confront their pasts, maybe through drama. LIke a work environment where we use the conflict resolution stategies that we want the kids to learn.

I think it is really interesting that in Spanish, the verb Esperar which means to hope, also means to wait. So, we hope, and we wait. But how long can one wait without losing hope? Real, positive change takes time, I am learning, and lots of it. So we trust that things are happening, poco a poco, and just keep holding onto the esperanza, I guess.