Traumatizing Tramites

In Bolivia, the word for official paperwork is tramites. Most people just call it traumatizing, because that is what it is. If you don’t care about details you can skip the next few paragraphs, because the point is at the end.

In March I started the process for a year long visa to live in Bolivia. Four months later, after sending every important document I own, and calling ten times to check in on the status of the visa I had my passport back with a stamp in it, but that was just the beginning.

As soon as I arrived in Bolivia, I met the lawyer that works with missionaries in getting visas.  The first day, we went to the bank to make a deposit, and then to a narcotics office to get the forms we needed to prove I have no drug record. Several days later we went back to that office to pick up forms, and then headed to the Interpol office. I expected a scene from an action movie, but was dissapointed. After going to Interpol, I went to get my picture taken for all of my documents, and then to a notary to have several forms stamped. Several weeks later, we went back to Interpol to pick up the forms, but there was another problem. A week after that, we went back again - this time with no problem at all. Except that the pictures had been misplaced, so we went back to take pictures again.

Another very important step in the visa process is making sure you are healthy. Luckily, there is a one stop shop where you can be x-rayed, have blood samples drawn, be examined by a doctor, and have you teeth “examined” (looked at).

After this we went to another office – FELCC- to have forms signed proving that I do in fact live where I say I do. However, the man wasn’t there, so we would have to come back another day. After going in vain to FELCC, we headed to Transito, where I think I proved again that I live where I say I live – I’m not completely sure what that was for.

When I tried to go back to FELCC, there was a marathon blocking the roads, and so I walked for a couple of kilometers, trying in vain to get a taxi. Three hours later, I arrived, and discovered another missing document. Thankfully the lawyer talked the man into letting him come back later in the week to bring the form, so I was able to sign.

After this, all of the forms were sent to La Paz to be approved. Several days ago I got word that documents were back from La Paz, so today I GOT to go to Immigration to finish up the process. We arrived at Immigration about 9:30, and waited in line to have the documents approved. The man reviewing my forms was very thorough, and found a mistake on one form. He informed us we would have to go back to the Transito office and have them correct the form. We walked outside and the lawyer looked at a group of taxi drivers standing outside, and asked  “Okay, who wants to take us?” I felt like I was in a movie, they all jumped up and started fighting over who would take us. After being serenaded by a Spanish version of “My Heart Will Go On” in the taxi, we arrived at transito to find about 50 people waiting in line. The lawyer went right to the front and asked them to please fix the mistake. I was amazed when they obliged!

Twenty minutes later we were back at immigration, and the man reviewed all of the forms again, and this time approved them and gave me my fine for taking longer than 30 days to obtain the visa. HA! They gave us a form to take to the bank to pay the fee, and then when we got back, we could continue with the process. We arrived back at Immigration, and two people before my turn, they announced that they would be closing for lunch for the next two hours. We could come back at 2:30. So close, yet so far.

After lunch things went smoothly, and we finished the last (supposedly) part of paperwork. Because I had a lot of time on my hands, I started to think about how different the process would have been without a lawyer. He knew what he was doing. He knew where we needed to be, what forms (for the most part) we were supposed to have, and he already knew most of the people in the offices because he does it so often. He was my voice when I didn’t have any idea what to say or do. As frustrating as the process could be, I wasn’t worried, because I knew that he knew what needed to happen next.
And then I started to think about how Jesus talks about our “advocate” In John 14-16 Jesus says, “And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—….. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever—“ In 1 John 2:1it says, “My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One.”

So while I am not looking forward to doing any of this paperwork again for the two year visa, I am so thankful for the way God has used it to show me what it means to have an advocate- to be able to be humbled in feeling completely helpless, and to allow someone else to help!

Since I wouldn’t wish tramites (paperwork) on my worst enemy, (or maybe I would… :)) I pray that you would be encouraged to think about what it means to have an advocate  in Jesus, and would learn to depend on Him only!

How do you say.......

When I started to teach first grade, I also started to pray for someone else to teach first grade.

 It wasn’t that I hated it, but I was very overwhelmed. The idea of being in charge of 21 kid’s educations was/is slightly terrifying to me. The Lord has been faithful to remind me that He was in control, and this change of plans wasn’t a surprise to Him, but at the same time, I kept praying for someone else to do it.

Then, about two weeks ago, my prayer was answered, but differently than I might have expected. Instead of a first grade teacher, God provided a Quechua teacher, who was willing to help in first grade. Originally, she had planned to teach Quechua, but because she came later in the year, that position was already filled. Instead, she agreed to help in first grade!!!

Having help to teach first grade has made a huge difference! It is so nice to have an extra pair of hands in the classroom, or even just another adult to be able to bounce ideas off of.

About a week ago, we were talking during recess, and she mentioned that her husband was in Peru teaching Quechua, and she was looking for students to tutor to make a little bit of extra money. I had been planning to start Quechua lessons, but I had been too busy to go out and schedule lessons. As soon as she mentioned teaching Quechua, I began to pray about taking lessons from her!

This last Wednesday I had my first lesson, and it went much better than I expected. She is a great teacher, and I am enjoying learning.Here are some of the things I have learned:

Nuqa kani Daniela. My name is Danyelle
Nuqa yachachik kani. I am a teacher. (haha)
Imaynalla kasanki. How are you?
Walliqlla kassani. I am doing well.

As we worked on some basic vocabulary, I began to think of the places I would need to know. “How do you say church?” I asked. She thought about it for a while, and finally told me there was no word for church, because there were no churches for the Quechuan people when the language began.
I am so excited for the opportunity that the Lord has given to learn the Quechuan language, but even more, to begin to learn about the culture. I am so thankful for the way God has provided not only a teacher, but also a new friend. Please pray for wisdom and patience to learn, as well as opportunities to practice!

When Brownies Fall Apart – In Christ Alone

In Bolivia, I am incompetent in so many ways. But let’s be honest, no matter where I am there are lots of things I cannot do. In Bolivia, it’s just harder to hide these things. Anywhere from buying gas to make my stove work, to solving division problems Bolivian style, to butchering chicken, I am almost completely incompetent.

But, when it comes to brownies…. that is something I can do.  If you have known me for more than 3 months, I have probably made you brownies. They are one of my favorite foods, and making them for other people is a great excuse to eat them myself.

So when my church announced we were having a bake sale, I got excited. Not just because it meant there would be lots of sweets available, but because I felt like I had something to contribute! I made plans with some new friends to make brownies, and I was equally excited to be able to eat and sell them.

The brownies turned out deliciously, and I snuck a few from the pans as they were cooling. Then I started taking them out of the pans. I had a little trouble getting them out of the pan in one piece, but I managed to salvage most of them, and the rest of the crumbs I put in a bag to share with the other young people at church.

Before.....

Then I got to church, and somewhere between my kitchen and the bus ride to church, all of the brownies had decided to melt together into one nice big pile. Somehow the brownie pile got brought out to the table where desserts were being sold, and everyone looked at it curiously. Brownies aren’t common in Bolivia, but even if they were, they weren’t recognizable as brownies. Someone asked why we had meat at the bake sale. Everyone was very kind, but it was ugly nonetheless. Was is a tasty pile of brownies? Yes. Was it pretty? Not at all.

So as I sat in church feeling incompetent, I began to pray, asking why it was such a big deal to me that I made ugly brownies. And I felt the Lord begin to put the words of the song In Christ Alone on my heart.

In Christ alone my hope is found,

He is my light, my strength, my song;

this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,

firm through the fiercest drought and storm.

What heights of love, what depths of peace,

when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!

My Comforter, my All in All,

here in the love of Christ I stand.

It wasn’t about the brownies, it was about where I was looking to find my identity. Was my worth and value in how well I could make a dessert, or in who Jesus is? Was my identity found in how well I can bake, or in what Jesus has done? Do I depend on other people’s opinions, or is Christ solid ground in my life?

So as much as my pride dislikes being unable to do things for myself, I am so thankful that the Lord has brought me to a place of humility (humiliation), and that in that place, He reminds me that I can stand in His love. That it doesn’t depend on what I can do or can’t do, but who He is. And how freeing that is!

I know you don’t read this to hear a sermon, but because I am so thankful for this lesson in my life, I want to encourage you to think about what you look to for identity and security. Is it solid ground?

I am thankful for you guys! Please let me know how I can be praying for you as always!

p.s. if you want a really good and ugly brownie recipe let me know. :)

All Things to All People

(Or at least a lot of things, to a lot of people.)

Growing up, I was very picky about what people called me. I never like to be called Dany, because to me that was a boy’s name. I remember very clearly telling my Grandma she was never allowed to call me that. Over the years my family and friends have come up with nicknames, only a couple have been used consistently.

In Bolivia, or really all of Latin America, Danyelle is pronounced Daniel, and is a boys name. I learned quickly that if I wanted anyone to understand my name, I would need to change it. Normally I go by Daniela, but this year it seems like I answer to just about anything. ;) Here are a few of the most common name I have here:

Danyelle: obviously this one speaks for itself. Only other missionaries call me this though.

Dan-yell-e: Mostly government officials trying to pronounce my name on paperwork

Daniela: The vast majority of people

Dani: I’ve finally caved and am allowing this nickname. But to be fair to all who tried before, it sounds better in Spanish.

Tia Daniela: Tia means Aunt in Spanish, and the kids at Casa de Amor call all adults  “aunt or uncle”

Tia Danielita: The kids and women at the orphanage when they need a favor.  Adding “ita” to the end of a word is like a term of endearment.

Tia Nani: The kids who have a hard time saying Daniela.

Tia Daniela Guapa:  Occasionally some of the younger girls like to add “guapa” or “good looking” to the end of my name. Of course I don’t mind, but it should probably be noted that it is usually little Jhosi who is blind that calls me that. ;)  

Tia Hiney: This one is my fault, but I haven’t gotten rid of it yet. I wasn’t sure what the appropriate form of bottom was in Spanish, so I started saying it in English instead. Now the girls at the orphanage love to call me Aunt Hiney whenever possible. Thankfully, no one else knows what it means, but regardless…

Miss. Graves: I am still getting used to going by my last name at school, but this is what they are supposed to call me.

Miiisss: This is what they actually call me most of the time. We’re working on it.

Miss Grapes: Most of the kids have a hard time saying Graves, so it usually sounds more like Grapes.

Profe: This is short for “profesora” or teacher in Spanish.

Chocita, Preciosa, Amor:  “Blondie, Precious, Love” No one I actually know calls me these things. (Don't get too excited...no boyfriends.) Nor do I actually answer to them – but guys on the street seem to think these are my names.

 Mamita: All older Bolivian women call me this. There isn’t a great translation in English, but it’s also a term of endearment.

Hermana:  At church, people are often called hermano or hermana (brother or sister).

It has been so interesting to adjust not just to these new names, but to the new roles and identities that come along with them. I am reminded of the verse in 1 Corinthians 9 where Paul says He has become all things to all people, so that they might be saved.  I have certainly not become all things to all people, but my prayer is that by whatever name I am known, that Christ may be known instead. Please pray for wisdom in all of these roles, that God would be working through and despite me!

Going to the Palace

In the middle of the first week of school we had a miracle! A Bolivian Snow Day! Just kidding, it was just a day when public transportation went on strike, but it still meant there was no school. It was a huge blessing because it gave me time to plan for school, and time to spend at the orphanage with the girls!

Then Thursday afternoon, I got a call asking if I could take one of the girls (I’ll call her Maria) from the orphanage to court (also known as the Palace of Justice). She is in the process of being adopted, but because it is not certain yet, she does not know. The process to get everything approved is very long and tedious, and the social worker at the orphanage has been working on her case for the last 2 years. As of now, the court has assigned a family for Maria, but in order for the family to adopt her, many other things have to be in place. (I am learning a lot, but I won’t bore you with the details unless you want to know. :))

Palacio de Justicia
(Sorry, there are no actual pictures!)

So Thursday afternoon I picked Maria up in her best clothes to take her to the court building. She was excited to be leaving the house, but immediately had more questions about what exactly we were doing. I did my best to give her honest answers without telling her that her whole life was about to change. At four years old, she is very smart and observant. At the girl’s house she acts like she is about 15 years old, but as soon as we got to the city she immediately returned to a four year old.

When we finally met up with the social worker at the courthouse, Maria had a hundred more questions. She wanted to know where we were, and so I told her we were at the Palace of Justice. Her eyes lit up and she said, “I can’t wait to tell all of the girls we went to the palace!” :) I didn’t bother to explain it was a different type of palace, but I think she figured it out pretty quickly. She became very shy, and hid behind me as we found the courtroom we needed to be in. We waited outside the room for about an hour and a half, and I was very glad I had colors with me to distract her, and myself as well.

 As excited as I am for Maria to have a family of her own, there is another part of me that is nervous for her. I have seen her grow from a toddler to a smart little girl over the last two years. She has so much personality for a four year old, and makes me laugh all the time. Being adopted has always been my prayer for her, but I will definitely miss her when she goes.

After an hour and a half, the judge told us that the court date had been suspended, and that we would have to come back on September 2nd. On the way home, Maria fell asleep on the crowded bus, and a lady asked me if she was my daughter. I smiled and told her she was my niece, which is what the girls call themselves. I couldn’t help but think about the way God has chosen to adopt us as His children.  He cares for us, even when we don’t understand what is happening. Before we knew He existed, He loved us.

Please pray for Maria this week as we go back to court. Please pray that the Lord would give her peace, and help her in the days, weeks, and months ahead. Please pray for wisdom for adults that will be working with Maria to prepare her for this process. Please pray that legal issues would be taken care of quickly, and that this adoption would be a picture of our adoption into God’s family!

Thank you all!

Teaching, Birthday Parties, and TACOS!!!!

What do those things have in common? Nothing really, except that they all happened this week!

The first week of teaching went much better than I expected, thanks to God’s goodness and provision, and so many people around me offering their time, wisdom, and prayers. Short of asking someone else to teach for me, I couldn’t have asked for more help this week. :P

On Wednesday morning we were learning about God creating the world, and I had planned to sing the song, “My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do!”  We started to sing, and we got to the part where we sing “There’s nothing my God cannot do.” As an echo I asked “For who?!”  The next thing I knew 20 students screamed “For you!” God has been so faithful all week to remind me that there is nothing He cannot do.

In addition to teaching this week has also been full of birthdays! On Tuesday night we celebrated one of the Tia’s birthdays! I made a cake, and the girls managed to get her to follow Bolivian tradition and “bite the cake” (push her face in the cake). Tia Anita has worked with Casa de Amor for years, and the girls see her as their mother. I am so thankful for her friendship, and her love for Jesus and the girls of Casa de Amor!

On Saturday, we also were able to celebrate one of our older girls - Jhosi’s birthday. Thanks to the extreme generosity of a local organization, Jhosi had a Frozen themed birthday party, complete with a piñata and semi-creepy clowns. All of the kids wore their best dresses, and I spent the morning playing hair dresser. The excitement of the girls made it seem almost like Christmas. (Several of the girls were also skipping around singing Jingle Bells in Spanish, so that might have had something to do with it. :) )

Immediately after this birthday party, we made our way downtown to Quillacollo to celebrate another volunteer’s birthday! Lindsey is from South Carolina, and came to Bolivia shortly before I left last year. She has stayed in Bolivia this year, spending time with the kids, loving on them, and serving in whatever ways she can. I am so thankful for her friendship also! When we got to Quillacollo, we met up with some of the ladies that work at the orphanage, and their children, and went to eat Chicharron (a type of fried pork) up in the mountains. It is always nice to spend time with the tias outside of the homes, and to see them with their own families without the pressures of watching 8 other children.

After our trip into the mountains for Lindsey’s birthday, I was able to make it for the end of a Bible club our kids go to called Horita Feliz. ( Don’t worry, the name means Happy Hour, but it is not what you’re probably thinking…) Several of the people that help run the Horita Feliz also go to the young people’s group at the church, so I headed back into the city with them. I have loved getting to know more people my age at this group, and it is a great opportunity to practice Spanish as well! All through the meeting I could smell something delicious, and was trying to remember if there was a restaurant nearby that the smell might be coming from.  Then, as the meeting ended a guy got up and announced that they had a special surprise for us….. TACOS!! This was the first time I have EVER been served tacos in Bolivia, and I am still excited about it. If I wasn’t already convinced that I needed to be involved in the young people group at the church, I am now!

Thank you for your prayers and support this week. I am hoping to send out an email with more specific prayer updates this week. Love you all!

Welcome to 1st Grade!

The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps. Proverbs 16:9

It is always interesting to see how God works. I have a tendency to plan out the way I think things should go, and then – most of the time – the Lord has different plans.

When I originally applied to come to Bolivia with SIM, I applied to come as the librarian at the school, Carachipampa Christian School (CCS). I knew God was leading back to Cochabamba, and this position was an open door. I studied Social Work, but I love to read, and God has used books over and over again in my life, so I thought, “Hey, I might be able to do that!” After praying and talking with many people, I applied and was accepted as the librarian!

Then about a month before I left to come to Bolivia, I received an email saying that during the past school year, a TRAINED librarian had come to the school and was planning to stay for the next school year as well! I was excited that the school would have a trained librarian, but unsure of what that meant for me. The email said we would explore other ministry opportunities, and I felt at peace about whatever that might mean.

This last week teacher orientation started at CCS, and I started the week planning on teaching a few Bible classes, and being on call as a substitute, or whatever other need might arise. Throughout the week, we had been praying for God to provide a 1^st grade teacher during our devotion time each morning. Several teachers had fallen through, and school starts on Monday. On Wednesday morning, we gathered to pray again for the teacher needs of the school, and as we were praying for a teacher, someone prayed for God to touch the heart of the person that would teach. I started to think about a teaching internship I had done in High School in a 1^st grade class, and once again, I felt this peace. And then something close to a panic attic. And then peace again.  After devotion time, I talked with my mentor teacher, and mentioned the internship in 1^st grade. Before I knew it, I was standing in the 1^st grade classroom looking at rows of empty desks.

It has been a very different week than I planned, but I can see God’s hand in it. All of the staff at the school has been beyond supportive, and as unsure as I am, I know that God is at work, and am excited to see how He will work.

If you all could be praying, I would be so thankful. Please pray for wisdom for me as I plan lessons, and get to know the children in my class. Please pray for relationships with the students and their parents, that God would be working in their minds and hearts. Please pray for the parent meeting on Monday night, that relationships would be formed. Please pray for language learning, as most of the children in the class are Bolivian, and first grade is still technically a bilingual class. Most importantly, please pray that this school year people would come to know God, and that He would be glorified! J

Thank you all! I will keep you updated!