http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia Tue, 24 Nov 2009 20:11 EST Tue, 24 Nov 2009 20:11 EST Zorpia.com http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1760892 <p>I have a new blog site! Please continue to follow my experiences in Bolivia at this new site:</p><p>&nbsp;<a href="http://claireinbolivia.blogspot.com">claireinbolivia.blogspot.com/</a></p><p>&nbsp;<br /></p><p>Wishing you the best in 2008. Thanks for reading!&nbsp;</p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1760892 Sun, 30 Dec 2007 10:29 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1699072 “Has traído el frió contigo, Clara!” (“You brought the cold back to Pucará, Claire!”), they tell me upon my return from vacation a couple of days ago. I was so anxious to arrive, that despite the bitter cold and muddy streets, I walked around town, greeting my good friend Yuma, stopping by the mayor’s office to let them know I was here, and searching for Osito in the plaza. I felt like years had passed since I was last here, it was nice to see that nothing had changed; the pile of rocks in front of my house was still there and Doña Inez was in her usual spot selling Sunday lunch and Jell-o to those who wanted. The wind was cold alright, but after a warm two weeks in the States, it was bearable. I went home to Virginia to surprise my dad for his 60th birthday; my plane from Santa Cruz was late, so the surprise at 1:00 in the morning wasn’t as exciting as it would have been surprising him at home, but nevertheless worth the trip! I settled excitedly into my childhood room, jumped on my bed, took a scalding hot bath, walked barefoot on the carpet, stuck my head in the freezer; I even went through pictures and memories of life before “Oblivia.” I awoke the next day, thinking I needed to put on shoes to walk to the bathroom, but instead saw my mom bringing me a cup of tea; its one of those experiences you amaze yourself at how easy it is to fall back into a routine, even after two years. Every step I took, however, felt a bit new. Running around the neighbourhood at such a low elevation made me feel like I could win the Boston Marathon, and I almost panicked walking into my local Safeway grocery, not knowing where to look or what seemed edible behind all the plastic wrapping. Instead of everything feeling new, though, I think it’s just that I now see things with changed eyes, as if everything had a new value. Why would you need to buy 20 rolls of toilet paper, when you can just buy two at a time at your local tienda? Why is “fresh” lettuce sold in a plastic bag? As I was suffering a case of reverse culture shock, I allowed myself to enjoy the benefits of such a life…Sharp cheddar cheese, 7-11 slurpees, sushi, microwaves, hair straighteners, washing machines and dryers, comfortable couches, 300+ television channels… all things I couldn’t really find much to complain about! But of course the best part of this trip weren’t the amenities I was happy to have, but the people I was with. Spending time with my family and various friends was by far the highlight. I went to New York City, shopped in Manhattan (and realized people spend more on their pets’ weekly grooming than I have on my own grooming in the past two years!), walked the streets of my sister’s diverse Brooklyn neighbourhood, ate hot dogs and rode the Cyclone at Coney Island, even visited the new terminal hub/memorial at ground zero, and strolled through Central Park. Through all of these activities, I appreciated the aesthetic beauty of cityscapes and the amalgam of languages spoken in the streets. I could see the draw to living in the States, despite the lukewarm reputation we have abroad, and for someone who was completely disillusioned with living there before, it was a welcoming surprise. Like most vacations, they pass in the blink of an eye; fortunately there were few mishaps, aside from running a stop sign that was definitely not present last time I was home and saying something in Spanish on occasion. But the funny thing was, I realized that like Pucará upon my arrival two days ago, life in the States hasn’t changed that much either. I guess I am the one who has, and whether it is for better or for worse, it feels good to know that travelling and experiencing the ends of the world are indeed the best decisions I’ve made in all my 24 years. Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1699072 Fri, 29 Jun 2007 16:37 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1668179 Easter has come and gone... and along with it the humid breeze of summer. Saturday we experienced a cold front that required all of gloves, hats, scarves, and té con té (tea with liquor shots in them.) As cambas were arriving in their detailed four-wheel drive vehicles to visit their pariente Pucareños, everyone was wondering whether there would be a fiesta the next day because of the weather. Women huddled by their adobe ovens as bread was made by the kilo and men just decided to begin drinking in anticipation. Mass was at 3:30 a.m., meant to be celebrated so that we would finish as the sun was rising. I was asked to be the godmother of a five-year old, Alejandra, who lives here with her grandparents. Her parents live in Santa Cruz and have another daughter, but thought raising two was too much, and therefore was sent back here. She is a rather wild child, speaking her mind, hitting girls and boys alike when she doesn’t get her way, and practicing to be a tomboy. But in return she has a wonderful, caring spirit, and I was honored to stand next to her that chilly morning. After the main ceremony was over, about 15 children, mostly babies, gathered around the altar in their white gowns and Father Carlos anointed each of them; we lit our candles together, everyone hesitant to blow them out in hopes of raising the temperature of the church a degree or two. I went to have cafecito at Doña Miriam´s house (Alejandra´s grandmother), and the Nescafé and fresh bread were a welcome treat. Sunrise was beautiful as I was walking back to my house along the cobblestone street. It looked like all the prayers and good wishes for a sunny Easter had been fulfilled. Women were selling salteñas in the morning, and children were dancing near Prof. Cesar as he played his accordion. I sat with Doña Laura, one of my good friends, outside her store, both like little cats soaking up the mid-morning rays of sun. She wanted to “dar la vuelta” in the plaza, so we did. On the church side of the plaza, I could see women still kneeing in the church, praying. On another the vaqueros were finishing off their ambrosia; stumbling to untie their cows and to bring them back to the fields. On yet another, children were playing soccer with a deflated ball, staying away from the main drinking holes. Women were gathered around the lonely telephone, waiting to call family in Vallegrande or Santa Cruz. The phone hadn’t worked in two days due to the cold, so the line was long and older ladies growing impatient. I could hear teenagers whisper and mock me as I walked linking arms with Doña Laura. Usually you go around the plaza with your cortejo (boyfriend), and of course, my lack of boyfriend in this town makes everyone gossip that I hide him under my bed, or that I just have too high of standards for the pucareños. In the afternoon, I showed Karate Kid III in the library, kids piling three to a chair, sitting on tables and on the floor. They had obviously tired of seeing their fathers drunk and wanted a new diversion. After the movie, a couple of the boys and I debated which was better, part I, II, or III not to mention which of them had the best karate kick. Before I knew it, the sun had set, and it was yet another holiday I would not see next year. I have to admit I would have done most anything for a brunch out on the patio in Virginia and Maman´s home-cooked meal. Then I realized that it probably wouldn’t have included morning salteñas, accordion music, or strolling through the plaza… so I went to bed completely satisfied on this beautiful, crisp, sunny day in Pucará. Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1668179 Fri, 13 Apr 2007 11:53 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1647517 <span class="payPathTitle"> <div>carnaval is a time of water balloons, comparsas, binge drinking, and foamy string...</div> <div>&nbsp;</div> <div>last year was spent in Vallegrande but&nbsp;this year, i was unable to make it to Oruro for the best Carnaval of Bolivia.&nbsp;i planned on going until&nbsp;i became sick with bronchitis again and had to stay in Cochabamba until I finished my antibiotics. feeling a lot better but longing to get back to Pucara, i decided to cancel my vacation plans and return to santa cruz to take a bus back to vallegrande... </div> <div>&nbsp;</div> <div>unfortunately there were major landslides the day before i was to leave and after sitting on the bus for an hour or so, i saw that the chances were slim that a landslide could be fixed in a couple of hours...after all, this is bolivia, the land of &quot;ahora&quot; meaning tomorrow, and &quot;ahorita&quot; meaning after a siesta. so i waited a couple of days and, with another volunteer, decided to take a taxi to make any detours and turning around (if necessary) much easier on a two-lane road. We prepared to leave as heavy rains&nbsp;hit Santa Cruz and the surrounding area. The landslides worstened and entire villages were being washed away, some estimated 1,000 trucks and cars, most of them carrying goods and fresh vegetables were stranded on small strips of deteriorating asphalt and sinking in quicksand. The rains continued and we thought perhaps flying to Cochabamba and taking the long way home would be easiest; we booked flights only to find that the &quot;long way home&quot; road was also closed due to heavy rains. </div> <div>&nbsp;</div> <div>i was looking at being stuck in santa cruz for the weekend... and not just any weekend, but Carnaval... where plastic ponchos and silly string are typical daily acoutrements of any person between the ages of 5 and 80. I must admit i haven't been hit too badly yet; aside from being pegged this morning during my yoga routine on the balcony of my hotel, i have been quite lucky. buses, taxis, men selling orange juice, women flipping hamburgers... all fair targets during these couple days. </div> <div>&nbsp;</div> <div>The sun has been shining for two days now, so my hope is that I will be able to head back to Vallegrande and Pucará tomorrow or thursday.&nbsp;i look forward to getting back to liliana, alejandra, nina, richard, david, cristian, maria, and all the other kids who frequent the library every morning.&nbsp;i also begin a series of tourism lectures in March so i need to begin preparing for those. but more than anything, i anticipate returning to my &quot;simple life&quot; (no, not even remotely similar to that of paris or nicole!) but the tranquility of the countryside, the views of the andes, and the villagers of my little pueblo. i long for hour chats over nescafé, making roscas with doña mary, strolls along the creek with oso, and sitting on the steps of the alcaldia's office contemplating life with don choco and iver.</div> <div>&nbsp;</div> <div>Feliz Mardi Gras!</div></span> Miscellaneous http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1647517 Tue, 20 Feb 2007 10:04 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1613321 <p><span lang="EN-US">I was talking to an old friend the other day online, and upon him asking me how things were going and what I was working on, it occurred to me that it had been quite a long time since I have written in my journal. Let me start off by saying I am at a difficult crossroads with my community, Pucará. In mid-September I was approached by the Vallegrande guide service to teach a new cycle of tourism classes. They want to train new guides and knew I was working in tourism. I was excited at the opportunity to work, as it had almost been a full year of struggling to find anything resembling a tourism project. José, the president of the dysfunctional guide association would help with the class, as would Barbara, a Swiss volunteer living in Vallegrande. I told them that I didn’t want to leave Pucará altogether, but that I would come in once a week and stay for 3-4 days. </span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">So life took its course, and I have since been teaching English and tourism classes to a group of 10-12 people.<span>&nbsp; </span>In October I had my friend Thomas come visit, sit-in on one of my English classes and gave him the grand tour of Pucará. Since Emily’s visit in January, I had gotten used to living alone and not noticing how different life was here in my little hamlet than in the United States; but having Thomas there I again noticed the little things that I have just become accustomed to. We hiked and got caught in the middle of nowhere in a huge lightening storm, witnessed some beautiful sunsets over the Andean peaks, and enjoyed a typical Bolivian dish that the Club de Chicas made for him. </span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">One of the main reasons I look forward to going back to Pucará each week after teaching is being with the 8 girls of my Club de Chicas. We have so much fun together: baking, cooking, playing cards, and working in the greenhouse. We were able to sell lettuce two weeks ago (pocketing $1.50!!!), and are just waiting for the moment the tomatoes, zucchini, beets and carrots are ready! The rains have really begun beating down on the Valles Cruceños and with the rains come planting season, which is again in full swing. My 72-year old friend, Doña Laura, is out helping her husband plant just enough potatoes for their own consumption; they can only be gone a few days, because their livelihood, the main store in Pucará cannot afford to be closed. Doña Laura tells me this over coffee and empanadas last week, as we sit and chat about the general happenings of town: when the priest will come say mass next, whether the streets will be fixed before the party of our patron saint, and how frustrated she is that the hospital is running out of her heart medicine.<span>&nbsp; </span></span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">Last Wednesday and Friday we had a dance and music competition within the whole municipality. Students from the schools in Pucará, Las Huertas, Lacayotal, Salsipuedes, and Kiñal participated in reciting poems, singing songs, dancing, and playing instruments. It was a beautiful sight to see so many little kids gathered to be the center of attention; usually they are squeezed in a corner hiding, watching their parents drink heavily during a town fiesta or at the local “bar”. Prizes of new backpacks, notebooks, and soccer jerseys were handed out to all the participants, and those who didn’t live in Pucará headed back to their small pueblos with big, empty backpacks on their back and even bigger smiles.</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">I was headed into Vallegrande for a workshop this week when I was told, by my counterpart, that the Council of Pucará wanted to see me. Apparently, to them, I am breaking my contract by going to Vallegrande and teaching. I was flabbergasted at their audacity to not only not be able to tell me this to my face but also by their desire to address my service for the first time in such a negative manner.</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">In other news, I may appear on a Madrid-based television show, highlighting the joys of adventuring the Bolivian unknown. Two Spaniards working in television and wanting to create a documentary came through Pucará and La Higuera this week exploring the Che route; one was traveling with his bike, the other opted to walk between hitching rides. While waiting for their bus to carry them through to Villa Serrano, I opened up my room to them to have a picnic, repack, and relax a bit. They took their cameras and video recorders out to film the beauty from my window, but also wanted to capture the story of an extranjera living in this little lost paradise. We were lucky because it was also the day of the school musical competition, so Pucará was teeming with young faces and overall glee that often is associated with the end of the school year. They had visited La Higuera where several Italians have invested money in the community and understood the difficulty of bringing aid to impoverished areas without setting a destructive precedent. I think this is one of my main difficulties that I do not want to give in to- setting up a project that gets popularity solely because I am bringing money to the community. It has been detrimental to the community of La Higuera years after the international funding has disappeared and just not sustainable for the future. I am hoping that I can take my tourism curriculum and teach it in Pucará as well; perhaps then they will see that knowledge is the best road to a wealthy community.</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">I will keep y’all posted as to what happens in the next couple weeks. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving with several Peace Corps Volunteers then the visit of&nbsp;Maman, Papa,&nbsp;and Emily&nbsp;in December. </span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">Thanks for reading, and remember, I only have a year left, so please let me know if you would like to come visit!</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">Happy Thanksgiving!</span></p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1613321 Tue, 14 Nov 2006 10:08 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1578174 <p><span lang="EN-US">I The days are perfect. Windows open at twilight and crickets chirping while the odd rooster crows. I arrived today on the bus from Vallegrande sitting next to six tourists on their way to La Higuera; they were snapping pictures and marveling at the valleys down below. Arriving in Pucará, a Belgian couple decided to walk to La Higuera, leaving their large backpacks in my house until their return; the others took a taxi on their journey west. It was a beautiful day to witness Pucará for the first time!<br />My work with the Mayor’s office is slow and frustrating. My presence is neither expected nor acknowledged- and without support from them, it has been near impossible to rally the community to form a tourism committee or even discuss the issue seriously. My computer classes have stopped; those who were interested have finished the course and that is that. Despite lack of “traditional” work, I still am in love with Pucará and its people. They are the reason I get up each morning (usually!) and make me feel like a pucareña.</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">I have formally organized a club de chicas; we have been hiking, baking, and reading books in English and Spanish together for a while now and I love spending time with these 8 girls. They are now helping me unwed and replant the greenhouse with fresh vegetables to sell on the plaza on Sundays. I am working on setting up a recycling project with them as well. My 7^th grade class in the school here has begun an exchange with a school in Iowa; we are learning about the Plains Indians and basic English and the 7^th graders in the U.S. are learning a bit of the Incas too. I also have been inquiring in Vallegrande to teach new guides about tourism and some English vocabulary… I am basically trying every outlet towards still working on tourism these days!</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">When I see experiences such as today with the tourists coming through Pucará, I wonder whether the pucareños aren’t right, and that maybe the level of tourism here is nearly sufficient; after all, most travelers to these parts are looking for the adventure, the hiking, and really experiencing the heart of the Bolivian countryside. Winter is almost over, and aside from a light snow and freeze two weeks ago, it has been uncharacteristically mild.</span></p> <p><span lang="EN-US">At the end of August I am going south to the Grand Chaco region to visit another PCV, Andrew, in his site outside of Yacuiba where they hold an annual rodeo! Several of us will then venture a couple hours south into Argentina to visit the wineries of Salta. I have been here a year and realize I have chosen the best rollercoaster ride yet of my life! </span></p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1578174 Sat, 19 Aug 2006 14:03 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1543951 <p>Día del Maestro- National Teacher Day</p>Yesterday we left at daybreak, all huddled in a flatbed truck, down the mountain pass that goes past the school and various people’s estancias (ranches). From the valley we had to walk a kilometer up a mountain to our destination; having brought along stereo (and battery to play the stereo), cases of beer, buckets of corn, 10 kilos of meat, a grill, and charcoal; we were each trudging up like ants, going to have a picnic. We arrived at Prof. Nelson’s farm and were welcomed with cups of sweet, sweet coffee and warm cheese empanadas. As we ate breakfast and marveled at his location overlooking the mountains and cornfields that he owns, his wife pulled out piping hot zapallo (squash) from the adobe oven. We each took spoonfuls of squash and added warm milk to our bowls, almost like a type of cereal; it was surprisingly delicious and fun to eat! The men began to slip shots of singani into their coffee and the women were gathered in the room with the stove, talking about food and preparing “lunch.” Now, I can’t really say what “lunch” was, because we ate almost all day long. The director of the schools arrived on his atv and came walking up the mountain with cases of beer on his head. We were then ready to go to the cow pasture and enjoy Ambrosia (warm cow’s milk and cinnamon liquor shots). We took turns, and went from cow to cow until there was no more milk coming out of each one! Most of the teachers know that this is the only type of alcohol that I really enjoy, so they took advantage of invitaring me every other shot (or so it seemed!) we were so full by 10 o’clock, that we returned to the house and just lounged, peeling potatoes, yucca, and tomatoes for later. We jammed to cumbia and vallegrandino music. Prof. Nelson is what we call a bailador and asked everyone to dance at least 3 times during the course of the day. As we took off our dancing shoes, Hilda, Nelson’s wife, served us hot zapallo soup with pieces of campo cheese and potatoes. Maria, the director’s wife and I snuck a locoto pepper and added our own spice secretly, giving it an even stronger taste. Gaby, Marile, Adair, and Ivi (all sons and daughters of teachers present) were intrigued with my camera so we decided to go on a photo shoot; I captured funny faces and poses on the mountain; you could tell that even for them, this was the rural countryside compared to “urban” Pucará. I returned to the house after escaping the beginning of “invitaring” (you invite someone to drink after you, then you drink) of beer. Magaly, Nelson’s daughter passed around a plate of fresh cheese, to be eaten with moté (warm corn kernels). <br />The vallegrandino music switched to merengue and more cases of beer were brought out. The day was perfect, without a cloud in the sky; we went back and forth from sun to shade, talking about families, and food, and telling jokes on each other. The barbeque was being prepared, tomato-onion-locoto salad being made, and yucca boiling on the wood stove, all in preparation for our big “lunch.” At this point I didn’t think I could fit one more morsel of food in my stomach… but dancing to song after song helped me digest. Around 4 o’clock, the meat was finally ready, rice was cooked, potatoes were soft, and beer was running out. We ate heartily, enjoying the last hours of the day and knowing that we could fast tomorrow if only to enjoy one more piece of grilled steak and a little more yucca. The kids were getting cranky, and the teachers went around making speeches about the importance of an education and working for the future. It was an odd moment for me because I was included as if I were a teacher like them, Bolivian like them, in this little hamlet at the end of the world; and I guess for me it was enough to show that feeling of really being included in their celebrations, such as this “Day of the Teacher,” to show how accepting they are of having me in Pucará. No one treated me differently, I had to haul down a crate full of empty beer bottles and sit in the back of the truck like everyone else… and after such a glorious day, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1543951 Fri, 09 Jun 2006 15:18 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1519806 <p>So i was invited to Villa Serrano with all of the primary school teachers last weekend. I was excited to be able to get to know them better as well as having the opportunity to see the two volunteers in that town, and as a bonus, check my email! We left after lunch on Friday, riding a camion (something between a pickup truck and semi trailer) through the mountains, down to the Rio Grande, across the Santa Rosa bridge and through the towns of El Oro, Achiras and Nuevo Mundo. The ride was bumpy at times, scary at times, and interminable at times, but I think it was probably one of my most favorite transport rides in Bolivia. With no roof the sky was the limit; I discovered trees, mountain tops, condors, parrots, and host of other wildlife and an ordinary car doesn’t permit you to see. We arrived in Serrano, famished and achy. The teachers at the primary school there greeted us with soda, chicha, and crackers. <br />Now, the chicha in Serrano is no ordinary chicha. “chicha” by definition is a fermented corn drink, that has the consistency of 0% milk, the color of cornmeal, and a rather interesting flavor. Serrano chicha is not just all of the above, but has 40 proof alcohol and sugar added to it (as if the fermentation process wasn’t enough to get you on the dance floor after one glass!) <br />Saturday arrived early and most of the men had come back to the alojamiento (named “misky life” which means “the sweet life”) at 5 a.m. from the Chicheria. They were too drunk to play the games which were scheduled for that day, so the women had to play. I put my best skills into a game of basketball (which we lost) and then fulbito (which we tied)… but it was a gorgeous day and fun to get out there and play with other women. The backdrop was a breathtaking view of the mountains surrounding Serrano and the weather was perfectly hot! That day I had a nice breakfast with Sarah, Melissa, and Andrea in Melissa’s new house and lunched at the Mayor’s house (where Sarah lives). <br />The afternoon was spent leisurely, chatting with the girls and catching up on the latest news.&nbsp; One of the teachers held a BBQ for us that evening, and we had good steak on the grill with moté and of course, chicha. We danced to a couple cumbia songs, some coplas, and then I excused myself to go watch a movie with the girls. <br />On Sunday I found Oso (bear in Spanish), my new puppy; the girls in my computer class named him, because he looks like a little bear. He accompanied me back to Pucará in the camion… along with the semi-unconscious bodies of the men in our group, who, stumbling into the truck insisted on bringing back some chicha for the ride! Ahhh. </p><p>Back to Pucará this week where we have had surprisingly good weather though the cold permeates my room each night and lowers it to a chilly 40°. Winter isn’t even on its way yet, but like many of the mysteries of Bolivia, fall and spring don’t really exist, just extended winter. We had a successful meeting on tourism services here in Pucará and people are getting excited about working on their houses; next step, finding funding for a series of courses that we will have here on hospitality, sanitation, and starting a bed and breakfast! Meanwhile, I am drawing a large map of the municipality and working on turning half of the library into a tourist information center.<br />Tomorrow I am teaching the 7^th grade class for the first time; part of a partnership with a classroom in the States, the program allows an interchange of information and ideas from students to volunteers abroad.</p><p><br />May 1^st is Bolivian Labor Day and the 3^rd is the Fiesta de la Cruz. Celebration time once more in Pucará! Hope you all are well, enjoy the beautiful spring weather for me!</p> Travel http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1519806 Mon, 01 May 2006 14:51 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1503695 March in Pucará is lovely. The sun shines brightly with a gentle wind, the days still remain rather long, and best of all the rain tapers off into afternoon showers instead of day-long monsoons! Fields are green, and I was able to go blackberry, peach, and apple picking, mmm! The flies are fewer and I can leave the windows open throughout the night.<br />March in Pucará also had its moments of frustration. I experienced my first moments of “ohnoihave20moremonthsofthis”, work came to a standstill, my bathroom leaks into my neighbors house, and I lost my first companion. My puppy, Gatsby, was run over by a car; alas, these things happen. But these events I suppose just showed me that I cannot change the course of certain events, only how I react to them. So after being mad at the world, things got better. I have started working in the biblioteca more, often doing puzzles and playing with kids before they go to school in the afternoons. Computer classes are going along, and today and tomorrow are sign-ups for the April course. A lot of the alumni from the course now come and type homework, and show off their skills to their friends. They still ask me each week whether we have gotten internet hooked up yet…they seem more anxious about getting internet than electricity. I suppose the hype of cyberspace reaches the depths of Bolivia as well!<br />March in Pucará had its share of funerals as well. I have been to more funerals during my service than I ever had in the States. Living in a small town, everyone goes to the funerals, and a small town with an aging population increases the death rate considerably. A time of mourning also becomes a time where Pucareños seem to lean on each other more and really come together to help each other out. The funeral of Sr. Pedro Montaño last week was beautiful. We processed from his house (where people had prayed the entire night before) up the hill to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. The parrots and birds were chirping, a band played typical Pucareño procession music; and slowly the cemetery was filled- with solidarity, with tears, and with sweet notes of mourning. <br />I travel to Cochabamba next week to reunite with B40 and have an in-service. This means I get to return to Bella Vista and visit my host family; this also means a nice vacation from the campo life and time to rejuvenate in the city. Then I will be ready to tackle whatever April may bring… Travel http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1503695 Tue, 28 Mar 2006 18:01 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1488243 With Emily it was as if time stood still.We laughed, we discussed, but most of all, I was able to show her life in Bolivia. And I realized that as normal as her visit seemed, so is life here in Bolivia. Sure, we ran into a predicament with the Police in La Paz, our 6 hour bus ride turned into an 11.5 hours of riding in a bus which undoubtedly came straight from the junkyard, we were left stranded in La Higuera and had to walk home at dusk, and had to listen incessantly to the Entel woman yell “TARJETAS” outside our hotel in Sucre… but all those seem to fade away in the background when I think of all that we did, the kilometers of Bolivia that we experienced… in taxi, in bus, in train, and on foot. <br />Our first stop was in Samaipata, home of El Fuerte- a large site of Incan and pre-Incan ruins that, if excavated fully would be larger than Machu Pichu- and town of beautiful views of the Valles Cruceños. We hiked to El Fuerte with our Bolivian guide, Jose, learning native plant species, catching up on the latest gossip from the States, and completing the visit with gorgeous views from the top.&nbsp; <br />We left with what we thought was ample time to arrive at Vallegrande to have lunch with Joy and Jonathan (PCVs who live in Vallegrande)… but a broken taxi, a beer, and a cumbia-laden taxi ride later made us rather late. Sunday is market day there, so we explored the fruits, the vegetables, the used clothing, the hand-made sandals, and the fresh juice stands… all being offered by colorfully dressed cholitas from the campo. By the time we were on our way to Pucará, it was dusk… though perhaps it was better that the road couldn’t really be seen!<br />We awoke to a nice day in Pucará, avoiding rain and too cold of temperatures! I introduced Emily and her boyfriend to several people in the village, including Mayor Fernando. We decided to go to La Higuera with him after lunch… so we went in his newly “repaired” truck along with some Argentineans that we met in the plaza. Never returning to pick us up (duly noted in my book for the next time I travel with the Mayor!), we walked back to Pucará, admiring views and a gorgeous sunset. <br />The next day we hiked to Las Ingas, Incan ruins about 1.5 hours away. The path we used is that which horses, mules, and farmers going to the campo use daily. Once at the ruins we were followed by a cow and her two calves, apparently claiming stake on the property. These ruins still are privately owned, and the noticeable constructions have diminished over the years as livestock and people still trample the site- something I plan on addressing immediately to the community. We then had tea with my host family that afternoon, and visited a little more of Pucará before getting back to my house before nightfall! <br />Our trip to Sucre required us to go first to Vallegrande, and then overnight on bus to the city. Arriving early the next morning, we explored the market. Em and Corentin sampled Api- a warm, maize drink- and buñuelos- fresh beignets. We then went to the Andean Textile museum that was amazingly well done, historically and visually. Just over the Santa Cruz border it is amazing how Andean-rich the artesania and the weavings become and how they vary from community to community. Sucre, from my perspective, is my favorite city. Nestled in a basin, its streets are intimate, the architecture is simple and Spanish-colonial in style, and the atmosphere is fresh and uplifting. I was also glad to see typical Andean women, clad with their polleras and braids- something I have missed since leaving Cochabamba. <br />We spend the days there walking, visiting the cemetery where most of the prominent figures and many presidents are buried.&nbsp; We sampled salteñas, fresh juices, and Emily and I even found a café with good cappuccinos! <br />Having decided to go to the Salar in Uyuni (the Altiplano), we departed for Potosi in taxi. The beginnings of Potosi showed its reason for being- large silver factories and mines, and a city completely designed around Cerro Rico, the large mountain where silver was excavated. Once the largest city, and still the highest city in the world, Potosi has a very utilitarian presence; drab buildings, typical hearty meals served in large restaurants, and a clouds of grey that seem to oppress the city ever since the fall of its silver empire. The textiles and weavings were extraordinary bright colored and provided a beautiful contrast to the pattern of the city. <br />Next stop: Uyuni. Our bus from Potosi, which was to take 6 hours took 11.5 as we stopped every hour to fix the front tire, and interspersed were stops to go through small streams, which had turned to rivers. Quite possibly my worse bus ride in Bolivia thus far!! The good thing is that we arrived in Uyuni in time for our tour of the Salar. Located about 20 kilometers from the town, the Salar is the largest salt flat in the world, measuring 2,000+ km in area. Since it is the rainy season, we were only able to go as far as the salt hotel, missing much of the sights at the center of the desert but still experiencing the most breathtaking view of my life. A few carefree runs barefoot through the saltwater, a gourmet lunch, and a few goofy photo shoots later, I was left awestruck, wondering what else there was to do there except breath in the amazement. Dinner that night was among several other gringos at a great pizza place in Uyuni run by an American. It was refreshing to again be surrounded by gringos and we dined on pizza with ground llama meat as a topping; it was wonderful (and a cholesterol free meat at that!)<br />A long wait for the train and three third class purchased tickets later (no more room in first or second put us in the <em>popular</em> class which pretty much means the sardine class) we were on our way to Oruro, catching sights of Lago Poopo as the train pulled in. We decided to hop the bus directly to La Paz as we were short on time and immediately fell asleep on the more comfortable (relatively speaking!) bus. <br />La Paz was another point of amazement. It was exhilarating to be in a big city again, with skyscrapers and a diversity of peoples and activities. We stayed at a friend’s apartment and wandered through the market streets containing everything from socks to kitchen appliances to vendors selling roasted nuts and fresh squeezed orange juice. The following day we awoke early to our journey to Chojasivi, a small Aymara village on the shore of Lago Titicaca. The residents of Chojasivi are developing their tourism site and services and as their first actual tourists, we were given a treatment fit for kings. Dressed in traditional Aymaran garb, we were honored by the Mayor and introduced to all of the prominent figures in town. We were then taken by two tour guides in wooden sailboats around the Lake and to Isla Majawi, a small island with colonial remains, where the residents of Chojasivi use as a haven when fishing and also for ceremonial purposes. The sky was as blue as the grasses were green and as our cheeks were red from the perfect day. We returned to the village, and before us lay a feast of fried fish, chuño (dehydrated potato), rice, salad, plantains, and cut potatoes. Don Tito, the Alcalde, then proceeded to play a wooden flute for us and show us a traditional dance. As we were leaving, the villagers were having a ch’aia (inauguration) for the hospital they built. We were invited to meet the men and women and offered ample amounts of coca and beer, which are offerings for the Pachamama as much as for their guests.<br />Unfortunately that was the last of my moments with Emily, with Corentin, with our La Paz friends, and freedom from routine PCV life. But, like all good things, they must come to an end… or at least to a suspension. I rushed back to Santa Cruz to attend a tourism and cultural fair where Pucará had a booth. While we didn’t have much to offer in terms of tourist attractions presently, we brought live music (played by Pucareños) and pictures of the beautiful Cruceño Valleys. In terms of my job it was a great learning experience, and good way to jump back into work! Travel http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1488243 Fri, 24 Feb 2006 18:43 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1468500 Today i woke up to a rooster in my courtyard… announcing the day. Were this to be only a morning occurrence I would welcome it and consider its announcement… but this rooster crows every 20 minutes of every day. I therefore contemplated turning over and sleeping the morning away…until I realized that I had a computer class to teach at 8 a.m. I savored my cup of coffee and banana, stood to watch the activity below me at the hospital and soccer field, and made my way to the library. It’s the last day for the morning class, finishing up 4 weeks of class learning the basics of Microsoft Windows, Word, and Excel. They are finishing their end of term “projects” and I run into Richard and Emanuel on the way, asking them whether they have their poem or story written out to type. They anxiously pull it out of their pockets, proud of what they had authored. During class a couple of younger kids come in, wanting to play with the puzzles and trucks in the library… over the past month these classes are a gathering place for those enrolled and otherwise, playing, laughing, and making a mess of the books I try to neatly order every night. There are always a couple of kids who want to check books out, so they sign the log and as usual, bring them back two days later. <br />The computer classes are comprised of 24 students, children and adults alike, some professors and some kids vacationing here from Santa Cruz city. This week many of them are in the campo (countryside) planting potatoes and cultivating onions, so they’ll have to come after the course is over… of course now that I have started teaching, there are 24 more that would like to enroll. I never thought of teaching computer classes, and I have had my share of frustrating days when I cannot seem to articulate well or when the students don’t remember to they have to double click, sitting there waiting for something to miraculously open. But those moments fade away during days like today where they came in, sat down, and barely asked me one question as they typed their final projects. They inserted images of hearts, stars, flashy borders, and pictures of Pucará. And now, sitting at the computer and printing out their projects I see the effort put into these classes. The poems are about their pueblo, the surrounding sites and the views overlooking the valley; there are stories about love, about the rich and the poor<u>. <br /></u>I found this first teaching task rather daunting, never remembering myself how I was taught to use a computer. But slowly I stepped away and let them figure it out- if I figured it out some years ago, surely they don’t need me to hang over their shoulders. Parents come in during class and observe, making sure their child came to class and surely a little curious themselves as to what this art of computing is all about. <br />The other day Delfa came to me wanting me to type something for her. She is enrolled in the class, but since this was an important document she wanted to make sure it was done correctly… even though her Spanish is incomparable to mine. I agreed to do it and we met at the library. She wanted to pay me for the 15 minutes it took to type a paragraph, but I would have none of it- instead accepting payment in the form of some succulent plums she has growing in her backyard.<br />Rain is looming over the mountains and the breeze is picking up. I am just waiting for it to start pouring down, secretly praying it will hold out until the next class is over, as my laundry is still out on the line. The rain here is enchanting and miserable at the same time. After a couple dry days I look at thunder clouds and think to myself that I wouldn’t mind spending the afternoon curled up with a cup of tea and <em>Cannery Row</em>. But after 2 days of deluge- which turn the streets of Pucará (and then your house) into a mud pit- I begin to grow crazy with each continuing hour.&nbsp; Of course it does, and as long as you keep those sunny, hot days in mind (and a pile of literature handy), it passes. Like everything, it passes. And so, the computer classes come to an end. We learned how to use lists, bullets, and numeration the other day, and as the night class let out, I trudged up the street saying goodbye to Marbin and Hayler… Marbin turns around and says, “Nos vemos viñeta (bullet), chao numeración”, and then doubles over laughing. Secretly I hope that they remember where they first learned to use a computer, even if I am only used in reference as a bullet point on their long list of achievements. Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1468500 Thu, 19 Jan 2006 14:49 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1458575 <p>Christmas and New Year´s have passed and for me it was the best of both worlds....Christmas Eve in Pucará was spent making empanadas, galletas, and cuñapes and decorating the manger scene in a several houses around town. Gray and rainy, the satellite phone lost connection sometime mid-afternoon, and the line of people desperately attempting to use the phone (myself included!) slowly dwindled, resigning to the fact that it would just have to wait until tomorrow (or two weeks from now) to be fixed. I went to an evangelical service at 7 just as a storm was rolling in, and then made my way to my friendYuma´s house, where i was to have dinner. We sat around the manger scene in the living room, chatting and drinking Coca Cola, awaiting dinner at midnight. Her family killed a pig for the occasion, and though skeptical to eat chancho for the first time, it was quite good! After good company, good food, and wishing Angel, Melba, Yuma, Miguel, Rosemary, and Maria Alejandra Feliz Navedad I walked home to my new house, closed the door and lit candles, playing christmas music on my Ipod and delving into the second Harry Potter book (I am addicted!). I awoke the next day with rainwater flooding into my room (so my room still needs a little work) but excited to go to mass and see all of the children gathered together. After church, I helped serve hot chocolate and pastries to all of the kids in Pucará and chatted with them in the plaza, getting soaking wet and loving every minute of it. Two missionary families who live in Pucará (from Michigan) invited me to Christmas dinner, and it was a blessing to have stuffing, mashed potatoes, AND pumpkin pie- a true feast unilke many i have had here thus far! I then went from house to house with the children, singing and dancing to “el niño” which is the baby Jesus in the nativity scene. After dancing around the altar we were rewarded with empanadas and pastries; we walked to the next house, with our mariachi band playing behind us, and everyone peering out of their doors to see what house was next. &nbsp;<br />Two days later I was in Samaipata visiting my friend David´s family and soaking in gorgeous views of the cloud forest and gardens of the eco-resort we stayed at. I barely made it out of Pucará as the rain and fog prohibited anything without 4WD to make it up the mountain… I finally hitched a ride from Pucará at night and made it according to plan. Once in Samaipata, we hiked to waterfalls, took advantage of the sunshine, drank too many cups of REAL coffee, and chatted around glasses of wine!<br />New Year´s… Santa Cruz was awesome, if nothing else that the fact that I was surrounded by my amazing friends and just thankful that we are all healthy and happy after our first 4 months in country. As pictures can attest, we celebrated the night at a Mexican restaurant, drinking margaritas and watching the fireworks light up the sky. All the guys in the group took advantage of the ample amounts of firecrackers sold here to have their own little show, scaring everyone in sight by setting them off inches from our feet! We then spend the first few hours of 2006 dancing in a club on Santa Cruz’s posh strip of dance clubs…not the way I would have imagined spending New Year´s a year ago (but a million times better!)</p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1458575 Wed, 04 Jan 2006 09:50 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1436838 <p>November 18, 2005</p><p>An old man whistling down the way, walking into the sunset from his long day in the fields… a dog hobbling along the cobblestone, rushing to find dinner at his owner’s door… children laughing, screeching while playing hide and seek in the plaza… roosters continually announcing the day and now dusk… these are the sights and sounds felt as I sit outside after my third day in Pucará. Today was the last day of school so the entire town went down to the school for the Pedagogic Fair. For days before students were painting pictures and murals, finalizing their science experiments, and perfecting their physical fitness performances.&nbsp; Most of the day was spent sitting on the grass, watching local dances, baton routines, and band performances. Already half of the kids know my name and think it synonymous with the ‘pelota’ (soccer ball). We have played every afternoon since my arrival, which children as little as 4 wanting to have a part in the action. Girls have played as well, though usually leave discouraged after not being passed the ball. “Where did you learn to play?” they ask. As if soccer was some long forsaken sport totally unknown to the female race. We play on the grass field at the school; the older boys play futbolina on the basketball court. I would love to get to know them and play at their intensity, but it is obvious that they rule the court and are not ready to have a girl invade their space; all they do is stare and whistle… and laugh at the little kids. </p><p>The big budget meeting is tomorrow morning- I suppose it will be my first “official” appearance in town, in front of the Alcalde (mayor) and other officials. Technically, I am trying to push for more funds to be allocated to the Culture and Tourism sector of the budget, though where exactly that money will go is yet to be determined.&nbsp; The previous volunteer, Michelle, started a library, complete with books, games, computers, and a television. It seems there is a great demand for computer classes, both from students and adults, and in order to continue using the library and dive right in to a project, I will be teaching computer basics. I will be going against my will and teaching Windows, and also Word and Excel. Apparently some Pucareños travel the 2 hours to Vallegrande every weekend to attend a computer class, and with travel and lodging it ends up being an expensive course. In order for this computer course to happen I had to write up an operating plan, asking for money from the state, the Participacion Popular, and the Alcaldia itself. </p><p>Yesterday I met Maria Yuma, a young woman who is on the library committee. She helped me write this plan for the classes and since then we have chatted a lot. She is the clinic administrator and knows a good deal about everything in Pucará; her energy and friendship has been welcomed with open arms. Between playing soccer, preparing for the budget meeting, and mingling with the school congregation, time has been moving along. Of course there are moments, such as these, at night when I try to escape to a book to find something familiar… or at least take on an activity that I would be doing whether in Paris, in Charlottesville, or in Pucará, Bolivia. I wouldn’t call it homesick; because that insinuates that home is where you would rather be- instead it’s just the need to get accustomed to a series of awkward, uncharted situations. </p><p>I have yet to move into my own house, and until then I think it will be hard to feel really at home here. I look forward to the day when I can shut my own door and open it again in the morning, feeling completely rejuvenated and ready to be Bolivian again. I tell my family I will be leaving next week to spend Thanksgiving in Santa Cruz with other Peace Corps volunteers. Its odd when holidays and customs just don’t translate; surely it is the same for us and customs here. I am anxious about leaving, if only for the time it will take to get accustomed once again to living in such a remote place. I am on my second candle, watching it burn as I write or read. I keep waiting for a phone to ring, a car to pass by, or a random horn to blow. But had you never heard these sounds in your life, a day here in Pucará would be perfectly normal… and loud. </p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1436838 Sat, 26 Nov 2005 09:51 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1426288 <p>October 29, 2005</p><p>Pucará appeared to me as a speck clinging onto a hillside, hidden between the lush mountains of Santa Cruz and the fertile valley of the Rio Mizque. I arrived by bus with my counterpart, Iver, around 11 o’clock… I met his family and they hardly exchanged two words to each other. This is the second day I have known Iver and conversing with him is one of the most difficult tasks I have had here in Bolivia. He is an intelligent high school professor and president of the governmental group of Pucará- yet is incredibly short on conversation. Pucará is even smaller than I imagined; it consists mainly of a large plaza, a cute colonial church, and a series of adobe houses, creating a small grid around the plaza. I met the Alcalde (Mayor), the Official Mayor (Asst. Mayor), most of the professors, and most of the town in general. I helped Iver teach his English class that afternoon… we practiced telephone conversations and the students now want me to tutor each of them individually. The volunteer before me built a series of greenhouses, both for families and for the school. Iver showed me what seeds they had planted and how they were attempting to build another even after her absence. <br />Corn and potatoes are the main crops, and basically the only crops around Pucará… at every meal this week I’ve eaten molé, steamed kernels of corn, potatoes, and rice. In terms of food supply, Pucará is desperately lacking any type of fruit, legumes, and meat. My first day there I couldn’t help but mentally list the amenities that Pucará lacked: light, produce, accessibility, communication, and general town maintenance. My room for the week was the front room of Iver’s family’s house. I slept in a bed behind a curtain and realized much to my dismay that I shared this room with several rats… This was the beginning of a long, sleepless night spent wondering how I was to make my next two years productive, especially considering my job was to promote tourism in this remote community. <br />The next day brought more fog, chilly temperatures, and rising uncertainties. I went for a run and explored the countryside, which I immediately fell in love with. This is literally a melting pot of topographies, and the intersection of departments (Sucre, Santa Cruz, and Cochabamba). I just walked around the town a bit, introducing myself to people, went to the first tienda and came across the town “Golden Girls”. Two cups of coffee and an hour later I had answered every question imaginable about myself and heard about the latest news to hit Pucará. This mainly consisted of the new evangelical gringos that moved in and who don’t try to speak Spanish and who was the best family to rent a room from. It’s amazing how universal a group of women chatting and a warm hospitality can do for the soul. I immediately changed my outlook on my future 24 months and took a deep breath. The people have proven to be nothing but hospitable and excited to have another volunteer. Later that afternoon I went with Iver and the Alcalde to La Higuera, which is the site where Che Guevara was captured and killed. We were to attend a meeting concerning a new road being built in La Higuera and all the townspeople are vehemently against it. The Alcalde, being up for reelection this December was undoubtedly trying to appease his audience; it was a long meeting, which ended in the decision to have another meeting next weekend. I was able to visit the museum and chat with one of the guides who has lived in La Higuera his entire life. He is probably 70 or so years old, and how excited I was to realize that I was speaking to a walking history book. <br />The rest of the visit was rather smooth. I found a room to rent though it will only be able to move in after December 8th. That is the day of the annual Pucará festival and apparently people from all around Vallegrande and Santa Cruz attend. I am interested to see the magnitude of such a party in this small village. My room is in a new house, and overlooks the church, plaza, the mountains, and the Rio Mizque. I will be living with an old abuelita (grandmother), and thus think that it will be a quiet, pleasant arrangement. Later on, I made my way back to Vallegrande (about 1.5 hours away) and was amazed as to the abundance of this city. I can find anything imaginable here, including brie and gouda that are made by a German family who lives here! I can also get my mail delivered here, which is much better than having to travel 8 hours to Santa Cruz to do so!<br />Upon my return to Santa Cruz and today to Cochabamba I have realized that perhaps the most difficult thing about these next two years will not be when I am in Pucará for days on end, but the duality I will experience when going in between there and the city. It was difficult to see all the lights and noise of a city. Its amazing how this little village seems almost stuck in an era devoid of modernity. On a lighter note, we all went out on the town last night in Santa Cruz. Having forgotten our “going out” attire back in the states, we were quickly denied entry at most of the clubs downtown. We tried to turn on the charm and sweet talk our way in wearing jeans and flip-flops while others flounced by in flowery skirts and stilettos! We finally found a “club” which, after entering, realized it was more of an under -18 dance hall, decorated with streamers, pumpkins, and Fanta punch. The 14 of us were just happy to get out and let loose, so we accepted the small loss of integrity and had a great time dancing! <br />Back now to Bella Vista, where I have only 10 days left to spend with my family and fellow trainees before swearing in! This week is not only Halloween, but also Todos Santos, a huge family celebration with an abundance of food and social engagements. <br /><br />Happy Halloween!</p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1426288 Mon, 07 Nov 2005 17:03 EST http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1426287 <p>October 18, 2005</p><p>Tuesday, October 18, 2005<br />I woke up this morning to a despedido, or goodbye to the daughter of my Doña who was here with her family from Buenos Aires. They left at 4 in the morning and after saying goodbye to them I went back to bed for a bit. Now I am drinking Toddy (the Brazilian equivalent to Ovaltine…) and sitting in my room, anxious to start my day. <br />I found out I am going to Pucara starting mid-November. The site looks amazing. Small town of 1,500 people upon a hilltop… Apparently there is an ample water supply as it lies beside a network of rivers… but does not have electricity. I have warmed up (clearly won’t be doing that literally) to the idea as I have known for a week that I might be put there. It is a welcome challenge, and like my Program Director said, “Claire, its perfect, you can have a nice romantic setup with candles everywhere!” The mayor’s office has solar panels and therefore will be able to charge my computer or use vital things while at the office, and the town of Vallegrande is about 45 minutes north in taxi. My language partner and closest volunteer here in training, Jonathan, has been placed in Vallegrande, so I am thrilled to have a close friend within an hours drive. Vallegrande is a town of about 8,000 people and has all the amenities I may need and apparently is a hot spot for great food and shopping. I am about 7 hours away from Santa Cruz city in coach bus… a perfect distance from civilization I think. We leave this Sunday for a week to meet our counterparts, visit our regional city of Santa Cruz, and meet our host families. I am beyond excited to finally know where I will be going and to be able to see myself somewhere 4 weeks from now! In the group 14 are going to Santa Cruz, 2 in Cochabamba, and 3 in Sucre. Everyone was content with his or her decisions and I think that we are all relieved to be towards the end of training. <br />If you ever make it to your local bookstore, Vallegrande is on page 287 of the Rough Guide: Bolivia. My town is of course not on the map, but it is between this big town of Vallegrande and La Higuera, which is the place that Che Guevara was killed. I will be able to write more about my projects after next week and for the next two years, but my goal is to make this town a tourist attraction while people are on their way south to visit La Higuera. Pucara lacks even the most basic of amenities (besides electricity!) such as restaurants, hotels, and tiendas, so my goal at the beginning will just be analyzing existing conditions and a plan to make it more attractive. <br />In other news, my family in Bella Vista is still recovering from their feria (festival), which I missed due to Tech Week. There are still chicha buckets in the lawn and the town looks a bit disheveled. We are going to make crêpes on Friday together, for the length of time that I talk to them about food and things I eat in the States and France, it is time I let them experience it! Spanish class awaits me and I still have “homework” to finish… Hope you are all well, thank you for the emails, letters, and packages, they make each little complication of life here in Bolivia fade into the background! chao~</p> Personal http://www.zorpia.com/claireinbolivia/journal/1426287 Mon, 07 Nov 2005 17:02 EST