It´s all part of the big picture

The past few weeks have literally felt like a month crunched up in one day. A lot has been going on, mostly in my work, as well as in my personal life.

First off, we had a performance of Batukada, the Brazilian percussion that I play and learn along with 10 kids from Plataforma. We loaded all the instruments into a bus, then all the kids, and played with about 100 other people in the center. It was an amazing experience. In the evening I invited my group to eat ice cream, using the money I collected in the US.

A week or so later, I went visit my boyfriend for about a week; a very needed vacation because I hadn´t seen him for a month and missed him a lot.

On top of everything, the world cup started and I was totally into it. I went to see a few games at the plaza de estudiantes, with a big screen and many people. What an experience!!! The first game I saw was Germany-Ghana and I almost died of a heartattack because I was so nervous!! The next game I saw was Germany-US and it started pouring in the middle of the game so that I had to go hide with my friend. After that, I watched Germany-Brasil and waaaaaa....what a party!!!!!!!!! After goal 4 I couldn´t believe my eyes!!!!!!!! And then......I watched the final with my boyfriend and another friend..........and was competing with my boyfriend the whole game because he was rooting for Argentina :D......What an amazing world cup. VIVA ALEMANIA!!!!!!!!!

About three weeks ago, one of the churches in the area welcomed a group of about 30 high-schoolers and a team of doctors from New York to spend two weeks in Santa Cruz and do various activities. Since I have a friend who plays guitar at the church from time to time, he invited me to perform at the welcoming mass for the Americans. For me, that meant practicing a song to perform. I wasn't too excited to sing for a big group of people, but after practicing the song a few times I felt more comfortable. Fact is I enjoyed performing at the mass. I sang "Blackbird" by the Beatles, adding my own touch to the song. My friend recorded me, but sadly my voice fades a bit. Since there was still a bit of open time after performing my song, I told the Americans a bit about my experience in Bolivia and gave them some advice about how to enjoy their time at full. It seems like they liked what I said, because some of them came up to me after to thank me. I felt accomplished. :)

The week after, the kids were on vacation, we had about double the work in Plataforma since the kids had all day to play, goof around, and enjoy themselves. The first week, we had different workshop planned; I was going to teach photography, art, and do various fun projects with the kids. But life wanted other things from me.

The week of the workshops I ended up translating for and working with Dave, a New York dentist who came to Santa Cruz with the team of doctors. He attended patience in the small office we have in Plataforma. Sadly, Dave hardly spoke Spanish and I had to stay with him most of the day to translate and help out with the consultations and treating the patients. At first, it was rather hard for me to keep calm in the tiny room as Dave was pulling out molars and filling cavities that had not yet progressed to the roots of the teeth. At the beginning I almost fainted once from seeing so much blood, but I caught myself in time to go out to take a breath of fresh air and lie down a second.

Even though orthodontology is not my thing, I enjoyed helping out the dentist and his team. With the kids that were in part super scared of what was going to happen, it was interesting to see how psychology plays a role in everything we do. Fear literally can paralyze one's thoughts and actions. Even though it broke my heart to see the kids in pain, it was crazy to see some kids super frightened and hysterical, where as others were calm and took the examination with ease. There was one girl that was so convinced that taking out her molar would hurt that she hardly let the dentist touch her. In fact, it probably did hurt a bit when the dentist eventually pulled out her tooth, but her panic made her pain much worse. In the end, I'm afraid that the majority of the patients we had will have a phobia of dentists for the rest of their lives. For me, it was something new to experience, and definitely one of those things that I will remember in the future.

The next weekend I spent with my family. The "south" came, meaning that the wind changed and the cold air blew from Argentina to Bolivia making the temperature drop and bringing rain clouds along. Sunday we celebrated my host mom's birthday. We went out to lunch even though it was raining and cold. As a special treat we went to eat at a Chinese restaurant, in decoration very similar to the restaurants in the US. In menu, however, the style differed largely. It is interesting to note that, even though Chinese food supposedly is Chinese food, the menu is adapted completely to the Bolivian culture. Even the names of the dishes were the same as in any Bolivian restaurant. Despite the cold, we had a good time and ate a lot. At this point, I should note that I have changed my lifestyle a bit. For everyone who knows me well, you know that I hardly ate meat (Chicken and red meat) in the US. Arriving in Bolivia, however, I didn't want to be picky and started to eat meat. In the past month, I have come to the conclusion, that I have eaten enough meat and now do not eat meat when I can avoid it. What does that mean? Well, I can't call myself vegetarian because in my work there are days where they mix ground beef with, let's say, the rice. Since I have to eat something, I have to eat the rice and it's impossible to separate the meat from the rice. But, I don't eat the chicken, nor the typical "churrasco" (BBQ). It's weird not to eat meat. I don't particularly miss it, but the social pressure is immense. Especially at work and at my boyfriend's house they worry that I will get sick or that I will get weak if I don't eat meat.  For now I've been keeping up pretty well. I am eating more vegetables, more salad, and more fruit.

The end of the weekend I got pretty sick with the stomach flu or something; I am not quite sure. But I can tell you that the next week was a crazy, crazy week. After spending all of Monday in my friend and colleague's bed (I was smart enough to go to work in the morning because I thought I was OK) and getting over my stomach problems the next day, I discovered that I had head lice. Not to scare you, I work in a children's daycare center, and most of them have lice. So it's normal that I got lice, since I have very close contact with the kids. It was funny, though, how I found out that I have lice. Other than that my head was itching had been itching for a while, I was fine. I thought the head itching came from the change in temperature and humidity. But, after literally pulling a full grown louse out of my hair that night and freaking out until my boyfriend's sister told me that it was a lice, I didn't even think about lice. Well, from then on started the war against lice. Since the beasts had made a home out of my lovely, curly, cursed hair, I had to first wash my hair and then brush it a million times with one of those special lice brushes. Since the temperatures were still low and there is neither warm water nor heating system (like everywhere in Bolivia) at my boyfriend's house, I got a cold about 10 mins after washing my hair.

*For clarification: I was staying at my boyfriend's house because the camp at my work started in the morning and ended at night so that I didn't have much time to go back to my house and return in the morning, each a trip of an hour.

Next step in winning the war?? Wash my hair with special anti-lice shampoo that not only killed the lice, but at the same time my hair. Lastly, my boyfriend's mom searched my head to make sure that I didn't have lice anymore.

War won!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now I just had to cure my cold, and with the low temperatures that was easier said than done.

 At the same time, I had a lot to do with the camp going on at work. We split the kids into different groups, all lead by one of the "big ones", the teens older than 13. In total we had five groups that all had to perform their slogan and original group names. Apart from the daily good-morning-speech and singing of our camp song (the song from the jungle book), we had different activities each day. One day, we had a group from the church lead the activities, another day we had a partner organization lead the activities.

On Thursday, a group of Spanish volunteer arrived at Plataforma. In order to greet them and to welcome them to the group, Julian planned an activity to create an atmosphere of trust and intimacy between the group leaders and the volunteers. Throughout a period of two and a half hours we first did warm up games to get to know each other, and then discussed personal questions in pairs. I worked with the teens to make the number even, and it was amazing to see how they opened up and talked about their past and their memories. The first question asked for the favorite memory of our childhood. I had to think a while, but in the end I decided to tell my partner Emma about the time that I went camping with my family in Main and we had just set up the tent when it started to rain so hard that we couldn't possibly stay inside the tent without getting wet. My mom, dad, brother and I rushed to the old Volvo with the red leather seats and a smell of adventures long forgotten, a smell of a life lived long before. With the rain beating on the flat roof, we sat inside, lost in what to do. Luckily, we had brought the book that we had been reading - Tintenblut, by Cornelia Funke - and when Mom started to read, the images created by the words flowed smoothly like silk in front of my eyes creating a landscape of colors and a sea of light and shadow. I remember the situation as something magical, something sacred. My mom's voice narrating a story so far from our own, and at the same time so intertwined in our lives. In my memory, we sat captured by the story for much longer than the rain lasted.

The other three questions were of similar depth. The second question asked about the most important person in our lives, the third about the most inspiring voyage, and the fourth about the most beautiful day in the recent past, and, going even deeper, about our first love.

Without hesitation, I chose both my mom and my dad as the most important people in my life. I know without doubt that they will always have my back, that they will always be there for me, and that they love me just as much as I love them. My mom has always been there to pull me back on my feet; when I was smaller, literally, and as I grew older by giving me her best advice and by helping me find who I am. My mom knows me better than anyone else ever will, and I am glad for the strong bond we have. Especially now that I am far away from my family, I acknowledge how much they mean to me. I miss my mom's encouraging words and comforting hugs. My relationship with my dad is just as beautiful, even though different. I know that my dad will always be there to give me a hand, to give me advice in what to do, and that he understands my ways. He will always be there to make things work and to help me understand the world in all its complexity. I remember when I and my brother had to get shots in Boston when I was maybe 8, and my dad drove to the doctor with us. I remember that he dropped us off at school in the mornings and was there in the afternoon to pick us up and to then help with the homework. I remember that he helped me and my brother build an igloo. I miss having photography adventures and getting up at ridiculous hours to see the sunrise or driving into a storm to take just one picture.

One of the most beautiful days in the recent past was the day I got together with my boyfriend. I never dreamed that anything would happen even though I did like him a lot. Roly's sister invited me to come over for a churrasco and "after celebration" of martigra on the 9th of March. I accepted willingly - and did not yet know that Roly would be there. They did say, that he might come to visit, but that it wasn't sure yet. I was writing with him a day before the churrasco when he confirmed that he would come to visit and spend a day in SCZ. More than anything, I was nervous to see him again. I didn't quite know how to feel about the whole situation, also because his family invited me to stay the night. Anyway, when I went to their house and saw Roly, all my nervousness flew away and I was just happy to see him. There are just those few people who have an immediate connection; one minute is enough to laugh and trust in the same way as other people do after a year. I feel that I have such a connection with Roly because truth is that I did know him for a very short time. But I did know that he made me laugh that day, more than is normal, that his family is incredibly nice and heartily, that he is honest and good-hearted, funny and open. After lunch we started a water fight, not only with his brother and sister, but with the whole family, later we added paint to the water and all ended up with green faces (and I with green hair) and I had such a good time...

At night we drank tea and ate some more. After dinner Roly took me for a walk to show me the neighborhood. We left the house and he took my hand without hesitation. We walked for maybe half an hour in the dark, with only so many cars passing by now and then, and with just the yellow street lights sparely illuminating the road. In my memory the climate was perfect - not too warm, but not cold either. A perfect summer night. We talked about this and that, until we started talking about the future. I remember that we talked about the perfect age to get married, have kids, buy a house etc. and then, without warning we stopped walking and talking at the side of the main road of Los Lotes. We rested our foreheads against the other´s in silence, closed our eyes, and after a moment, kissed. Then we walked back the way we had came from, stopping by a little park where a horse was grazing lonely in the soft light of the full moon. When we got to his house where his family was sitting outside Roly did not let go of my hand.

Back to the camp, we spent the afternoon singing songs and introducing the Spanish volunteers. I started learning how to play accordion, a bit at least, so that I accompanied the song we sang. Afterwards, we had a talent show.

The next morning there were two surprises waiting for me. One, the sun FINALLY came out and two, Roly came for a surprise visit! He was going to come the weekend but got out of classes a day early.....I was happy. At work, I taught the kids how to make dream catchers and they turned out nicely. At night, we made a bon fire and sang songs, told stories, and I got to be with so many people that I care about. It was such a nice surprise that Roly came a day early.

The past week (after the camp) I worked with the kids teaching them to paint fruits, starting once again with my English lessons at school where I changed my strategy of teaching and have been watching 101 Dalmatians with the kids and now and then writing vocabs on the board.

***IF ANYONE HAS IDEAS TO TEACH ENGLISH IN A SPECIFIC, MORE CREATIVE WAY PLEASE COMMENT!!!!!!***

I also helped paint a mural with the Spanish volunteers. Additionally, I have been going to Yoga and focusing on my inner well-being.

Even though it is a personal challenge for me to keep updated on what is going on in the world, I have been watching more news in the past few days. I wish me hadn´t, because the news that are shown here are at the level of Fox News. All that I saw in the news was death, violence, rape...Especially the incident of the bombing of the plane in the Ukraine impacted me. I fly a lot, my mom flies even more, and all of my family will be flying to Europe in a matter of days. How is it that there is so much violence in the world? If I´m not mistaken, Israel and Palestine are closer to war every day, there are bombings of an airplane with close to 300 innocent people, in Santa Cruz a 20 year old university student got raped and is now in a coma...

I talked with my host mom about all the incidents that are happening and, since my boyfriend´s family is religious and I went to church with them in the morning, asked my host mom how - if there is a God - there can be so much evil in the world. My views on God and religion are clouded, I still haven´t made my mind up whether to believe or not, nor do I know if that´s really something to consciously chose. Anyway, Yoyi gave me a simple answer. The world has lost its faith in God, because one, who believes in God, in his or her religion, does not hurt his brother. Is that what is wrong with the world? Have we lost the connection to our "brothers"? Have we lost the connection with the greater good, the faith in being something more than we are - not through power but through love? I work with children every day that lack so much care, so much affection, that a simple hug can make their day much better. There is a little girl that just started coming to Plataforma and that comes up to me every day to give me a big hug and a kiss. There is a boy of maybe five who fell because he was not listening and was fighting with another kid. He banged his head and was crying. I hugged him and at first he was completely irresponsive. When I wanted to let him go, he clung to me and would not stop embracing me. Another boy stole money from one of the coaches in Plataforma and, when we found out he had stolen, would only say that he had stolen it to help his mom and that now she would hit him.

I ask everyone who reads this to give a hug to the person closest to them, be it a friend, relative, or stranger.

Oh. I forgot the best part of life: I am staying in Bolivia until after Christmas :)