Curbside Pick-up... The Bolivian Way

Over the last few weeks, I have been thinking about how I could best share our life in Bolivia with our friends and family from far away. One of the biggest differences in daily living is grocery shopping (and prices!). It is a far cry from curbside pick-up, but I have grown to mostly love it. 

Because Cochabamba is one of the largest cities in Bolivia, we have a variety of options when it comes to shopping. There are two big chains of supermarkets (think Target and Walmart in the early 2000's), lots of smaller mini-mart type stores, and then traditional markets. 

Because we rely on public transportation, getting to the big supermarkets is usually more trouble than it's worth. We typically go when we "need" specialty items like tortillas, cream cheese, peanut butter, etc... 

On a normal week, we usually go to the market closest to our house for our groceries. About two blocks from our house, there is a bus that will take us to the market. The bus costs 1 boliviano each -about 15 cents.

When we get to the market, our first stop is to buy chicken! The meat section would definitely not meet any FDA regulations, and I try to hold my breath as we walk in. 

Each week we go to stall #15 and buy chicken breasts for us, and all the leftovers (chicken feet, head, heart, liver, intestines) for our dog. The chicken breast costs about $1.50 per pound, and the leftovers are about $0.30 per pound.

This week we had a small misunderstanding where I accidentally asked for 12 pounds instead of 12 chicken breasts. OOPS! Just when I think I've mastered Spanish, something always keeps me humble. 

Our next stop is the vegetable section! There are around 15 vendors with their individual stands, but we try to go to the same one each week. The quality of vegetables seems to be the best, and the lady is always very friendly. 

Franco was the official photographer for this blog, which is pretty risky because the vendors are very cautious about being photographed. He did a good job taking sneaky pictures, so any blurry pictures are a result of that. :)

The cost of vegetables in Bolivia is MUCH lower than in the United States, and they are all locally grown and organic. 

Our next stop is the fruit section! 

Franco thinks the Garden of Eden must have looked something like this!

After our shopping, we stop into out favorite snack place to re-new our strength and people watch.

I almost always order my favorite combo: a Tucumana (fried and breaded with llama meat, onion and peas served with a spicy peanut sauce), and a mini coke. For only $1!

With renewed strength, we make the walk to the bus. The bus leaves us about three block from our house, and poor Franco carries our groceries. (This is one of the nicest perks of marriage. When I first came to Bolivia I struggled with my groceries alone, and had more than a few embarrassing moments as my bags broke and I tried to maneuver my way in and out of crowded buses.) 

Almost home! We live across from the second light post.

I laid out the groceries so they were easier to see. As you can see, we mostly eat chicken and vegetables, accompanied by rice or noodles (we buy those in bulk). 

Milk & Coffee come in a bag! To serve, a small hole is cut in the corner of the bag, and can then be poured. (I could do a whole blog on all of the things that are sold in plastic bags here..... suffice to say that the gas station next to our house sells gasoline in plastic bags.)

In the last year or so I have discovered these bags or pre-cut vegetables and they make life so much easier! They come with cabbage, carrots, spinach, pumpkin, and sometimes peas. They are great to add to a soup or stir-fry! ($0.30)

This is  can of pineapple chunks. It is also a part of the government subsidy of food that every pregnant and breast-feeding mother in Bolivia is entitled to. "PROHIBIDA SU VENTA" means ""PROHIBITED TO SELL". Almost every time I go shopping I end up buying something from the subsidy. I guess its a good thing only the selling is illegal, not the buying!

18,000 + WORDS

This past July, I celebrated my anniversary with Bolivia. In July of 2012 I came to Bolivia for the first time, and in July of 2014 I moved to Bolivia with exactly 99.5 lbs of luggage and a backpack that probably weighed almost as much.

 As time has passed, the novelty of life here has faded. The things I once considered foreign have become [mostly] normal. I used to be afraid of getting burned when I lit a match, and now I light a match to start the stove several times a day. I used to cringe when greeting people with a cheek to cheek air kiss, and now I only cringe when the other person is especially sweaty or has prickly facial hair.

Over the last four years, Bolivia has become my second home. There are things about this country that are really beautiful, and there are also things that I am still waiting for the Lord to make beautiful.

I would love to share my second home with all of you, (please come and visit... we have a room for you!) both the beautiful things, and the not so beautiful things. But because that isn't very probable, I thought I'd share pictures from a typical week in Bolivia.

On Saturdays before Happy Hour starts, the kids start arriving up to two hours early to play soccer. The Happy Hour building and land is such a blessing, and our prayer is for it to be a local church in the near future!

While the kids are playing in the park, I get to talk to the women who come with their children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc...

This little boy is a monkey in and out of class. Last week he climbed onto a stack of tables, opened the window and jumped outside during prayer. I really should pray with my eyes open.

Worship time with the kids before going to their classes.

Each song has a visual aid for the lyrics (Forget projectors!) The kids love to be in charge of displaying the lyrics, so it is extremely ineffective, but they enjoy it. 

Singing "I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back". We pray that this would be more than a song, but something real.

After worship, we have three different classes. Franco teaches the 10 years and older class.

I have the six and under class. We are learning about the miracles of Jesus this month.

As we have tried to become more involved in our community, we have been intentional about doing everything as close to home as possible so we can meet our neighbors. As I was getting my hair trimmed across the street (risky), we ran into a guy we had met a couple of times before. He informed us that he was going to get his dentures made, and proceeded to show us the dentures in his pocket. He then insisted that Franco take a picture of this sign with a phone number so that we can refer all of our friends that need dentures. (And I just thought getting my hair cut here was risky.) We actually do know a lot of people that need dentures, but I haven't found a polite way to suggest that just yet. 

During the week, we visit the families that come to Happy Hour. Sometimes our visits are quick, and sometimes we get to stay and share a story from the Bible and pray with the families. Many of the families come from a very close knit farming community. It is easy for us to see the families freshly bathed and in their best clothes at Happy Hour and forget the hard situations they are coming from.

The family that lives here comes every week to Happy Hour. There are six siblings, and the oldest girl (11 years) bathes all of her siblings and washes their clothes so that they can come.

They raise turkeys to sell, and everytime we visit I get excited about Thanksgiving!

Speaking of food, the grill we got from the jail for our 1st anniversary continues to be well loved. A couple time a month we have families from Happy Hour or church over for a delicious barbecue.

Bolivia has SO MANY holidays. Almost every week we are celebrating something. This was September 14th, Cochabamba's anniversary. We went with Franco's brother and sister-in-law to a park outside the city and enjoyed fresh air!

This couple became Christians a little over a year ago, and decided to get married! They have been sweet friends to us, and Franco was honored to get to be the master of ceremonies for their wedding. 

Remember when I told everyone that I was going to Bolivia to be a librarian?? Well four years later, I actually am! Three days a week I am helping with the library at Carachipampa Christian School. I love getting to recommend good books, and I especially enjoy spending time with the kids I have taught over the last few years.  

Checking out books to my first grade class of 2014! They are almost 5th graders now (because of the calendar change from American to Bolivian system) I don't know how much I taught them, but they are reading big books now, so that's a good sign!

Radical Hospitality - Sacrificing the Guinea Pig

For years, I resisted the trend. I laughed in the face of Pinterest. I thought it was like a grown up version of “playing house”.

Then, overnight I became a temporary first grade teacher. And Pinterest became my best friend.

It turns out, Pinterest is actually a great resource for teachers. It is also a great resource for new recipes, cleaning tips, haircut ideas, and just about anything else you can imagine.

Just like with anything, Pinterest can be dangerous if we begin to put our hope in what it can offer us. But, it can also be a tool to serve the Lord and to serve others.

So, one day, as I was preparing the extra room for guests I thought – “Why not see what ideas Pinterest has to make our guests feel welcome?”

It turned out, there were thousands of ideas. I found out that in order to be hospitable, I should:

• Provide water bottles in the guest room.
• Find a cute way to write the wifi password.
• Provide fluffy towels.
• Light a candle.

The list could (and does) go on and on and on. And I’m sure those would all be great additions to a guest room. But then I started to think about what makes me feel welcome in other people’s houses, and although I appreciate a nice fluffy towel, the towel can’t make me feel welcome.

Last week, we went to visit a family from Happy Hour. As we walked up to the gate, their dog ran out to greet us. The kids, cats, chickens, and even the ducks made us feel welcome. They carefully set up tree trunks for us to sit on, and took clean towels off the clothes line so that we wouldn’t get dirty sitting directly on the tree trunk. We talked for about an hour, as we drank Coca-Cola out of shared glasses. Before we left, they showed us their cows, and their guinea pigs. The cow’s milk is the main source of income for the family, and the guinea pigs are sold to eat. Later that afternoon, we received a pot of rice, potatoes, and fried guinea pig as a gift.

Our hospitable friends, and their cow, Juana. (Not pictured: our guinea pig lunch)

She wasn't that happy to see us.

While I would never suggest serving up your guinea pigs to make guests feel welcome, I think there is something we can learn about sacrificial giving and generosity from this family. I didn’t feel welcome because of the Pinterest worthy décor or accommodations. I felt welcome because they gave sacrificially of themselves and their resources.

Hospitality is defined as: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers

So while there is nothing wrong with fluffy towels, or a nice candle, I am challenged to let my hospitality look more like this:

“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality.” Romans 12:9-13

So come and visit us in Bolivia, you may or may not get a fluffy towel and a guinea pig. ;)

One Year - In the Valley

In January of 2011, I went to a winter retreat with the campus ministry that I was involved in. I don’t remember most of what happened at that retreat. I can’t tell you the theme. I don’t remember the speaker’s name. I have no idea what he even spoke about. What I do remember is a verse we memorized together.

“The Lord our God is a sun and shield. The Lord gives grace and mercy. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11

I memorized this verse with the hundreds of other college students. I don’t remember why we memorized it, or how many times we must have repeated it together, but it stayed with me.

It’s a nice verse. We like to think of our God as a sun and a shield. A sun is powerful. Life-giving. A shield protects us. We like that God gives grace and mercy. We are in desperate need of both.  I think we really like the last part. NO good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. So, if I walk with the Lord, He will not withhold anything good from me? Sounds great!

But, then, a year ago today, our son was born prematurely at seven months.  Seven hours later, he was with the Lord.

That day our hospital room was full of visitors. The hospital must have waived the two visitors at a time rule, because at one point I’m sure there were at least twenty. We were surrounded by people that wanted to help in whatever way they could.

A family from church offered us a spot in their family burial plot, and the next afternoon I was being carried across the cemetery in a borrowed wheelchair to my son’s burial.

The next morning I woke up with this verse on my mind.

“The Lord our God is a sun and shield. The Lord gives grace and mercy. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11

Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a nice verse anymore. At least, not the last part. Over and over I repeated the second sentence in my heart.

NO good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.

I wrestled with the Lord. So was my son not considered a good thing, or was I not walking uprightly? Why did it feel like God was withholding a very good thing, when I was walking with the Lord in the best way I knew how?

Over the last year, I have continued to wrestle with this question.  I have come to believe that my son was absolutely a good gift from the Lord. I also don’t believe that God was in some way punishing me for not walking uprightly. (Although I often do not walk uprightly.)

Instead, I believe that God in his grace and mercy has given us other good gifts through the loss of our son.

He has allowed us to know Him more in our suffering. He has been near, and comforted us as we grieve. And in that, He has shown just how merciful He was in sending His son to die for our sins, so that we might live forever with Him.

A few weeks ago I saw a post from a grieving father that said, “Where was God when my son died? The same place He was when His son died. On His throne.”  He is still good, and He is still in control.

So today we celebrate the life of our son, and we also grieve the brokenness of this world. We put our hope in the God that knows our suffering and promises to be a sun and shield. To bring grace and glory. And to withhold NO good things, even the good things that are painful.

My prayer  today is that we would rejoice in the good God who has not withheld the BEST thing, His son. May this song continue to be our prayer.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9BPaMhGNRkQ

Welcoming Winter

As I scroll through Facebook, I am reminded of summer. Teachers are finishing end of year cleaning. Parents are proud of their graduating students. Students are enjoying their new freedom at the pool/river/beach. People are traveling. Even the people that are officially adults and don’t get to do anything fun are complaining about the heat while enjoying beautiful popsicles with a summery background.

But this isn’t a blog about the danger of comparing my life to others, or the dangers of Facebook. Even without the benefit of social media to see all the best filtered moments of other people’s lives, my own heart tells me what I should expect at this time of year. Summer is typically a time of newness. Warmth. Freedom. Exciting things. Traveling. Visitors.

So as I watch others begin their summers from afar, I watch the leaves fall off the trees in my yard. I put on (another) jacket before walking to the store. I put off showering (again) because it is too cold. And I wish it could be summer in Bolivia.

But during summer in Bolivia, I wished for winter. As I put up our Christmas tree in shorts, I listened to Christmas music and dreamed of a white Christmas (as if we have white Christmas’ in Texas). I got a sunburn while I went Christmas shopping. I sweated during Christmas dinner with a scarf on in 95 degree weather because it felt more festive.

All of the seasons are reversed in Bolivia, and I often find myself wishing for the season of the Northern Hemisphere. And as a result, I don’t enjoy any of the seasons.

Rather than buying some pumpkin, lighting some candles, and enjoying the leaves in the yard, I wish for summer. Rather than enjoying summer-time at Christmas, I trick myself into believing it’s actually really cold and festive.

And in the process, I miss out on the season I am in.

How often do we do that with seasons of life as well?

We think that this time in our life should look a certain way, and then we are disappointed when it turns out differently.

We think God should have done a certain thing at a certain time, and try to make our life look the way we think it should.

And in the process, we miss out on the season that He has us in.

In Ecclesiastes 3:1, God promises that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.

We can trust Him to be good even in the seasons that we don’t want. We can trust that He is all-knowing and all-powerful, even when we would rather be in someone else’s season.

We can trust Him in the summer, winter, spring, and fall because of Jesus. Hebrews 4:15-16 says,

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

Jesus came to live among men. He knows what it is to be cold, and what it is to be hot. But more than that, He knows what it is to suffer, to be hungry, to hurt. And yet, He was without sin.

Because of Jesus, we can be joyful in the season we’re in. Not because it might be a good season disguised as a bad one. Not even necessarily because of what great things God might do because of this hard season (although He might).

We can be joyful because Jesus sympathizes with us in our weakness. And because He does, we have the promise of forgiveness of sins and eternal life with Him. We can draw near to Him in every season to receive grace and find mercy.

Waiting in Line.. For the Glory of God

I tapped my foot impatiently as I checked the time. Again. The line behind me was beginning to grumble impatiently as well. After waiting for two hours for the legal assessor to show up, I was all grumbled out.

I had been in this office the day before to submit my paperwork to annul my foreigner’s ID, and request a Bolivian ID. The day before, the man told me I was missing my marriage certificate, and a bank deposit of $2.50. “You can come back tomorrow.” He said. “I’ll be here from 7:00am – 3:00pm.”

So with that in mind, I had called Franco and asked him to meet me at the civil registry where we got married. I got on the bus to meet Franco, and mentally chided myself. I just requested this same form three days ago, and turned it in when I requested my Bolivian birth certificate. I should have asked for two…just in case.

When I arrived at the civil registry, I checked the time again. They should have opened at 3:00, but at 3:10 there was still a line outside of the closed door. I took my place in line, and waited. Soon, the notary arrived and warned the crowd that there were no birth certificates available today. Several people grumbled and left. I confirmed, “But there are marriage certificates?” She assured me there were.

As I waited inside, I watched as the notary ran back and forth between the internet router and her computer. After about 30 minutes she announced that there was no internet, and that we would need to return in the morning at 8:30.

A little discouraged, Franco and I got a bus back home and made a plan. We would go early in the morning to get the marriage certificate, then to the bank, and then back to Segip (the government office) to turn in all of the paperwork.

The next morning we got a bus back into the city and arrived at the civil registry at 8:28. Two minutes early! We took our place in line, and waited. And waited. At 9:05, the doors were opened, and the line became a mob. Not wanting to experience personal injury, we became the last in line. When it was finally our turn, a family rushed in needing a death certificate for their father. They needed it urgently so that they could take his body to the funeral home. How can you say no to that??

 Thirty minutes later it was our turn again, and another bereaved man urgently needed a death certificate. But this time, after seeing how long it took, I became assertive. “I’m sorry, but we have been waiting since 8:30. It will only take 5 minutes.” The man was not happy, but the notary felt sorry for us at this point, and let us go.

At 11:05, we walked out of the office with our marriage certificate in hand! We rushed to the bank, and waited in line for our number to be called. When it was my turn, I told the teller that I needed to make a deposit to Segip for 17 bolivianos. ($2.50) He was very confused, because I was a foreigner, and foreigners have to pay more. I managed to convince him I knew what I was doing (kind of), and walked out with my receipts.

At this point, it was almost 11:30, and we decided to rush to Segip to make sure we had time to submit my documents and take my fingerprints before they closed. When we arrived, the legal assessor's door was closed. We asked the secretary, and she instructed us to take a seat. “He should be back in an hour… give or take.” I wanted to cry. An hour? What happened to “I’ll be here from 7:00- 3:00?!”

We decided to eat lunch and come back. When we came back, after an hour, the door was still closed. So we sat and waited. And waited. I began to think of all the things I could have done with the last two hours. I began to list all of the things wrong with the system. How unjust it was. The line began to grow behind us, and after 45 minutes the line was restless. A lady walked by with a nametag, and an older man in line asked when the legal assessor would be in. She replied, “Oh, I don’t think he’s coming back today. He had to go to court.” The line erupted in complaints. I wanted to cry again. The line continued to complain, and we walked away. With smoke coming out of my ears.

I was so angry that we had wasted so much time. Almost an entire day wasted waiting in lines. I questioned the system. Why did no one seem to be able to do their job? Was it actually their fault, or was it the way things were set up? What if people did their jobs to the best of their ability? What if people did their jobs for the glory of God?

And then I felt the conviction in my heart that comes from the Holy Spirit. What about me? Am I waiting in lines for the glory of God? Not very well. I tend to see waiting in line as a waste of my time. A distraction from things that are actually important.

How different would my waiting be if I saw it as an opportunity to talk to the people in line with me? To show meekness and humility and patience? To not grumble?  How would God be glorified in that?

So although I’m hopeful that the waiting in lines and paperwork necessary to become a Bolivian citizen are almost over, I know that my days of waiting in lines are not. This is Bolivia – there will always be lines (or at least mobs of people) waiting for something. My prayer is that the Lord would teach me to glorify Him in the mundane things like waiting in lines. And may He continue to show you and I areas of our lives that He wants to work in. For His glory, and our good.

Have You Ever?

Have you ever seen someone pour beer on their car? Sprinkle beer around their house? Shoot innocent strangers with a water gun from their car? Burn fake money and incense in charcoal on their sidewalk? Come to Cochabamba today and you can!

Today is a holiday known in Bolivia as Martes de Challa. On the Tuesday following Carnaval (Mardi Gras) weekend, each family offers “sacrifice” to the PachaMama (the god of mother earth). Franco estimates that around 80% of families participate, and judging by the smoke in the air, he must be right. A charcoal fire is lit, and incense is burned. Street vendors also sell miniature items such as money, houses, cars, etc. that can be burned in the fire. The idea is that by burning these items, the PachaMama will bless you by giving you the things you burned. Sprinkling beer on your possessions is a way of blessing the items you already have. It is a dark time in Bolivia, and is a reminder of how many people around us are living without Jesus, in fear and superstition. I don’t have any pictures I took myself, because I didn’t think that would go over very well, but I borrowed some from google to give you an idea.

Blessing of the bus

Miniature items to burn as sacrifice to Mother Earth - Pachamama

The burning of the items

The entire weekend is considered a holiday in Bolivia, and many celebrate by drinking heavily. It is a dangerous weekend for many. This year it is estimated that over 20 people were killed in accidents related to the celebration of Carnaval. Being out in public can be dangerous even if you are not celebrating. Today on our way to the corner store we were sprayed by a stranger passing by with a water gun. Often though, the water guns are filled with other liquids that are more harmful and or smelly.

For this reason, our church puts on a camp for young adults during this weekend every year as an alternative to celebrating in the traditional ways. This year Franco was invited to teach! The camp was located about two hours outside of the city in the mountains – and it was cold! There were about 60 people from the church in all, and it was a great weekend.

Franco taught about Ephesians 5, imitating God by walking in love, light, wisdom and purity. I was able to spend time with some of the young girls from church, and enjoyed getting to know them better. Bolivian youth camps are MUCH different than any camp I ever went to. The idea of sleep is just that – an idea. I think I was the only one who slept more than 5 hours a night… I felt old! The games are also extreme. One game included eating 20 olives in as little time as possible. Another included team work- three people worked together to eat a raw onion, bell pepper, and tomato in as little time as possible. And the worst, two volunteers from each team were required to take off their (dirty) sock, place it over a bottle of water, and drink the water through the sock. I couldn’t (and wouldn’t!) have done it, but the boys didn’t seem to mind! It was an exhausting weekend, but it was a good time to spend with the youth of our church.

Franco teaching about God's will

Can you imagine eating these raw in under two minutes???

Time for lunch!

The power went out one night, so we had a nice candle light, fire hazard dinner.

Worship Time - Franco is hiding behind the guitar

When we made it back to Cochabamba around 9:30 last night, we discovered that there was flooding on the road to our house. You can see a short video here: https://www.facebook.com/sallen507/videos/10155679284064079/

None of the public transportation was working, and the taxi’s didn’t want to risk it either. Thankfully, friends from church generously took us to their house and let us stay with them. This morning we were able to get home safely. The roads are still a mess, and in many places it is filled with debris. We are very grateful that there was no flooding in our house. Water did get into the living room, but the rug was the only casualty.

We will be visiting some of the families tomorrow from Happy Hour that live in the more affected areas to see how we can help. Please be praying for those whose lives have been disrupted by the flooding. Please pray that the Lord would give us opportunities to love and serve those around us that have been affected, and that people might come to know Jesus through these floods.