My Arroz Zen

The work station... Piles and piles

There is rice everywhere here. Every Bolivian staple dish has rice. We hardly go a day without eating it. Since I’ve been here, too, there have been bags of rice for the girls to sort through to pick out the woody part—every day there is a schedule of what girls need to finish their bags.  Such an every day thing here, I never could have imagined rice being an instrument into a deeper understanding of why I am here.

A couple of days this week, I have sat down to help the girls pick through the rice. Talk about a tedious task…. But after sitting through it, concentrating on the menial task in front of me, I think I finally understand those mini Zen gardens that people have in their offices or homes—it totally opened my mind up to a deeper insight for the first time since being in Bolivia.

My first realization was the most obvious and had to do with the physicality of picking through the rice. Rice is small, as is the woody part that needs to be removed. To pick through and separate the pieces requires fine motor skills and the fine touch of your fingertips. It was this intricate use of my fingertips that I was reminded of the blessing of being alive. All dramatics aside, I am blessed to be here on earth. As many of you know, in my junior year of high school I ran through a glass door severing my right wrist close to the main artery. After two surgeries, to repair and transfer tendons, and unbelievable nerve pain, I regained my motion, but lost normal fine touch feeling in three and a half of my fingers. On a daily basis, I rarely recall my injury. Muscle memory has taken over, and my brain has adjusted in order to make up for my lack of total feeling in my fingers. But when a task is placed in front of you requiring the use of your fingertips—like picking rice—the fact that you don’t have the greatest feeling in your fingers becomes apparent.

My arm the night of my accident
Sorry if anyone gets queasy!

My ring finger has now become my pointer finger. Any task that requires the use of my pointer finger, my ring finger takes over if possible: scrolling on my computer, picking things up, pressing buttons, using scissors, and picking rice. It’s actually pretty weird, and one of my younger girls even asked me why I scrolled on the computer with it rather than my other finger. It had never fazed me before she asked. Now I’m kind of self-conscious…

My accident has changed the way I live, on small levels (using a goofy finger for things) and on grand levels (reminding me that life is a fragile thing). Not having full feeling in three and a half of my fingers is a reminder to me what I am capable of getting through and that life can never be taken for granted.

My time with the rice also really got me thinking about my girls and the life that they each lead. You know, going through the rice really is not fun. It is a strain on your neck and your eyes, and it is just plain boring! But the girls need to do it, and although I don’t always agree with it, it even comes before sleep or homework. As a volunteer rather than one of the girls, I am able to come and go from the rice room as I please. I can choose to go in to pick rice; I can choose the amount of time I spend in there. The girls are not able to do so. I began to see the parallels between the rice room and the hogar, and even Bolivia itself. I chose to come and live in the hogar for a year, and I have the ability to leave at any time if I ever feel the need to. If I feel uncomfortable, if I miss my family, if I feel overwhelmed—I can walk right out the door. I could even hop on a plane if I felt that strongly about leaving to go back to the comforts of the United States…to the family I know, to the weather I am used to, to the comfortable life I am used to living. These girls do not have that option. This is their life. The food they eat is the food they know. Sharing a home with 119 other people is they home they know. The structured cleaning and tasks that come up (like the rice) is the structure they know. I am only here for a year of my life, and then I get to go back to the luxurious things that I know: owning a car, going to a restaurant to eat, having a boyfriend that I don’t have to hide from the madre ;). But really, I have the opportunity to leave all of the difficulty I have experienced here behind and go on with my life. This is their life, and I am only here for a year of it.

This thinking led me to the insight that, yeah, I am here. I am living among these girls. I just finished reading Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Great book. But there was one excerpt that gave me a wow moment while reading because it went right along with the discovery I had while picking rice:

“You are as likely to see sea life from a ship as you are to see wildlife in a forest from a car on a highway…If you want to see wildlife, it is on foot, and quietly that you must explore a forest. It is the same with the sea. You must stroll through the Pacific at a walking pace, so to speak, to see the wealth and abundance it holds.”

If I am going to find the true wealth and abundance of Bolivia and Hogar Sagrado Corazón, I cannot just be an outsider looking in. I’ve gotta be here! And I’ve got to do it quietly—that’ll be a struggle :). I need to be here during their meals eating what they are eating; I need to be here when they are sitting around talking; I need to be here to share mass with them; I need to be here with them picking through rice. I can learn so much more! I want to show them that I want to be here and learn about their lives. Some of these things I may not particularly like or may be different than what I am used to, but this year is not about me. It is easy to avoid eating the food the cook prepares and go out and buy something. It’s easy to avoid the rice room and find something else to do. It’s easy to shut myself up with my computer instead of talking with the girls. This year is going to be a constant challenge for me to push myself beyond what is easy.

All of this thinking of being present made me think of Jesus. Throughout his life, Jesus was among people who lead different lives from him, who were different from him. He was constantly traveling, and He opened himself up to people from all different walks of life. He was present—eating among the tax collectors and talking with the Samaritan woman. These people were different from him. He was just there and loved them. That is all we are all called to do: Open up our lives to people who are different from us and just love them. I have tough days here where I feel out of place, when I am uncomfortable, or when I am lonely. But I know that these are the challenges God is giving me, and they are the times when he is most calling me to be like His son. And God always brings me back up, giving me opportunities to feel a part of the community again—He gives me special moments with my girls. Really, that’s the best gift I could ever receive.

Sooooooo if ever there is a time in your life where you feel you need a little self-discovery, grab yourself some rice. It works wonders. 

Love from Montero,
Lain

There's a first time for everything!

As of October 27^th, I have been in Bolivia for over a month. What better way to commemorate this milestone than to go back and think about all of the things that I have never done, some things I never imagined I would do, that have only added to my time here in Montero?  Yes, some may be a bit of a stretch, as I am trying to make this post informative into the life I am living here as well, but I hope they are nonetheless entertaining.

Tania with her LOAD of laundry

1. Starting things off with something I mentioned in a previous post: Washing my clothes by hand. So I think we all are hoping (especially my parents) that I have done more than one load of laundry since I’ve been here. Lord knows my track record with doing laundry in the past has not been the best, but I learned that I need to manage it much better here in Bolivia. Tania, my site partner, taught me the importance of staying on top of my laundry because the day she taught me to do mine, she had severely fallen behind. It was quite an adventure to get all of her clothes washed and then lugged over to hang up. It was hilarious. One thing I miss the most from home regarding laundry is FABRIC SOFTENER—more specifically the delicious smell it brings to my clothing. As much scrubbing as I do and maybe even a bit too much detergent in hopes of a fresher smell, my clothes never smell as good as they do at home.

2. Speaking of smelling good: I now buy my fruit and vegetables from an outdoor market. The fruit stand smells divine. Right outside of the Hogar doors is a market that stretches the length of the whole street. The picture does not do it justice. It is nuts: shoes stacked to the ceiling, bundles upon bundles of bananas of all colors and ripeness, chicken feet hanging by ropes, huge bags of every different kind of pasta, stands packed with cheap electronics. This lovely place is where I buy my fruit and veggies! Now I know there are plenty of famer’s markets in the states, but I just have never been to any of them let alone purchase anything. They have great deals here: 7 apples for 10 Bolivianos (7 Bs=$1-ish) . Wouldn’t see that kind of price in the states! I frequent the fruit stand for apples and kiwi.  Yum.

The view of the market right outside the Hogar doors...Only a piece of it!

Las Palmas--one of our favorites

3. Now to make everyone even hungrier: I have had my first salteña and empanada here in Bolivia! A salteña is a super savory breakfast pastry that is filled with chicken or beef, veggies, and other deliciousness. They are super juicy and melt in your mouth. The only downside… they aren’t sold after 11. Then it’s time for empanadas! Empanadas are very similar to salteñas, but they can come in more varieties: cheese, onion, chicken, beef. These are an afternoon treat, but are not sold after dinner. All the volunteers here are convinced that a 24 hour salteña/empanada shop would make it big…even if it was solely supported by the volunteers here...We love us some pastries. These delicious snacks go perfectly with a jugo con leche—juice with milk—which tastes just like a milkshake. My favorite is strawberry. Now I’m hungry.

Ann-Marie, Me, Tania, and Monica at Las Palmas

Viv on the back of a moto

4. It is totally doable to walk to the salteña and empanada shops, but why do that when you can ride on the back of a moto!? The primary mode of transportation here in Montero is by moto. There are men in vests that are constantly driving the streets picking up and dropping people off. The common way for women to ride is sidesaddle. I have ridden sidesaddle once, which was a crazy uneasy feeling the whole way home. Typically we ride two on the back of the moto because it is safer and much more fun. Riding on the back of a moto has been one of the unexpected joys of my days here in Montero. Every time I hop on the back of one of those babies, feeling the wind in my hair and the thrill of not having control, I send up a little prayer of thanks to God. Every moto ride leaves me smiling. It’s the little things.

Viv, Monica, and Ann-Marie
in the back of a trufi

5. This talk about transportation is a great segue to talk about trufis. A trufi is a mini van that travels between the main cities in Bolivia like Montero, Santa Cruz, Okinawa, and Yapacani. An individual pays 9 Bs for their spot in the van, and hops in when the van come into the Trufi station. What is so unique about is that you could be in the van with six other passengers that you do not even know. I have traveled almost an hour in a mini van with six other people that I had never met and a driver that I had never met… Never thought I would say that. I have fallen asleep in more than half of the trufi rides I have ridden in J We are starting to talk to our drivers more and making friends with them. You never know when you are going to need a friendly driver!!

6.  Making friends. I like making friends. I now have my first friends from the UK! Ann-Marie and Monica are two volunteers here from the same kind of program as the SLMs, just from the UK. Ann-Marie was here at the hogar last year for three months. She got here the day after me and was here for a month. Monica was here about a month before me and is leaving in December.  They work a lot with the babies (Santa Maria) here at the hogar. 

Me, Monica, Ann-Marie

They have been great to have around—for one their Spanish is much better than mine and Tania’s so they can help translate things the girls say. And their British lingo is so goofy, just like American lingo is to them. Do you know what a bin liner is? I do. But really, the four of us have gotten really close working so closely together. We have had very fun, very interesting times together. We support each other’s salteña and empanada addiction, through sickness and health, and even check each other for lice.

7. Which leads me to my absolutely favorite first, not: Checking myself for lice. As a child, I luckily avoided lice. Here at the hogar though lice is rampant—previous volunteers saying it is not a matter of if, but when. The girls are checked for lice and are cleaned of what they have, but they never use any treatment. With so many girls around hanging on you, yeah, you’re going to get lice... So guess what?

8. I have lice for the first time. Ew! Gross! Yuck! As nasty as I imagined it would be, I am not that grossed out now that I do have it. More than anything, it is just a hassle because you have to wash all of your things… I have accepted the fact that I am going to get it many times, and it is a way of life here at the hogar. Just got to treat it and move on. I kind of see it as my initiation to the hogar… Woooo hoooo

9. There are lots of other bugs here at the hogar too. Ants searching for sugar in the kitchen, mosquitoes wanting to suck your blooood, gross flying ants that come out when it rains. But my least favorite of all of them is the cricket. I have had my first fight to the death with a cricket here in Montero. One week, my sleep was severely interrupted by the constant chirping of a cricket. The first couple of nights I thought the chirping was coming from outside my window—so there wasn’t anything I could do about it. After a few nights of restless sleep because of the darned chirping, I decided to do something about it. I closed my window, but the sound did not deafen. Then I realized the blasted thing was in my room…The really terrible thing about crickets and their chirping is that whenever there is commotion or movement, they stop chirping. So there I was in my room in the dark, like a maniac, searching blindly for this cricket ruining my beauty rest (Let’s be honest, I need all I can get). I pulled out my supersonic hearing to find the booger. Turns out the cricket was just chilling in a hole in my wall—I saw his pesky antennas sticking out. I took a pencil, had the urge to scream “Prepare to die,” and stuck it to him. Pure satisfaction coursed through my bones. I then clogged the hole with a bundle of toilet paper to prevent more intruders. Best night of sleep yet. I know we are taught to love God’s creation no matter how small, but there has got to be some kind of asterisk regarding annoy things that interfere with your sleep. I am extremely happy to report that my sleep has not been interrupted by the chirping of a cricket since.  

10. Now for a poor transition…

Speaking to interruptions: For the first time, my relaxing shower was interrupted by a little electricity traveling through my body… In the showers at the hogar, we have to turn the water on first, then flip the switch to get “heat”—some days it works, some days it doesn’t. Nevertheless, it is always worth a shot. The strength of the shower is inversely related to the heat of the water (on a good day). I turned the shower on a mild stream, and the water got to a nice warm temperature. After a bit, I decided I wanted more power, less heat. I went to reach to twist the dial and got a little surprise! Never had I been shocked in the shower before! After having a good laugh at myself, I flipped the switch off and adjusted the water how I initially wanted it. Let me tell you, this little lesson has made me very cautious in the shower. No more shocks for this girl!

11. I am learning all sorts of new things 

about electronics here! From electric showers to computers, I certainly have my work cut out for me. We have five computers here in the biblioteca, and I am in charge of helping the girls with the problems they have on them. My solution for almost everything? Hitting the power button. I am a magician. Computers need printers too, right? Right. And printers need ink. And with 120 girls printing, you go through a lot of ink. For the first time, I have replaced the ink in the cartridge with a syringe! I still don’t think I have the technique down—it comes out of the bottom a lot…—but I think I am getting the hang of it! I may even do the same for my cartridges in the States. So much cheaper!

12. Electronics are incredible. For the first time, from Bolivia, I am able to send and receive text messages, receive and make phone calls, and have a voice mail from my computer! My number is 513-461-0401! Give me a ring! Send me a text! I only need Internet, and I can communicate back!

13. Internet is another story. Never before have I never had consistent Internet. Sure, we had a bit of trouble with a dropped connection every now and again in the apartment, Brittney, but I have never not had Internet for days on end. It is a strange adjustment. I am definitely learning to live a more simple life.

I am sure that I have many first here at my new home in Montero, but these are the ones that stick out most to me and that I find the most comical! Life certainly is different here, but I am learning to adjust—both physically and mentally. I am making things my own, finding my joy in the small things, and finding refuge in the swarm of hugs, kisses, and smiles I receive throughout each and every day. I am so lucky.

Lain