The detour

So after six taxi raides through northern Argentina and one eight hour bus ride through the middle of the night I am now safely in Santa Cruz. It was decided yesterday afternoon that the situation was most likely not going to resolve itself anytime soon. Actually, it got worse with talks between the government and campesinos breaking down and a few police and campesino confrentations involving tear gas. Not in Bermejo, but in a near by community. So at about 2:00 I was told I should leave ASAP becasue there was going to be a paro civico in Yacuiba the next day (a sort of protest when EVERYTHING shuts down) and then it would be really impossible to get to Santa Cruz. So I packed up my things and got on the road. Luckily I ran into some very helpful fellow travelers because I really didn´t know the best route to get through Argentina. I was planing on getting to the first destination and figuring it out from there. But luckily after crossing the bridge from Bermejo to Aguas Blancas, Arg. I shared a cab with another Bolivian that told me the fastest route to take and how much I should pay. Funny thing is that as we got to Oran he assumed I would pay for a third of the taxi fare! I was like what?? There´s two of us we split the fare, it´s that simple. I was pretty irritated at that point by this guy who was being really friendly to me the whole ride and giving me all this helpful ¨advice¨ then trying to rip me off. And then he goes on to ask me where I live. I make up some fake general location. Then he asks what family I live with (this kind of thing happens A LOT) and I ask him why he wants to know that. And he says he´s going to be in Bermejo the next weekend and he´ll look for me. Is he really thinking we´re going to hang out or something? I tell him I wont be home next weekend and he says well I come to Bermejo a lot I´ll look for you. Alright...you do that. It was kind of wierd. I didn´t get any kind of creepy vibe from him the whole time we were talking. Usually I´m pretty good at sensing those things. Who knows? Maybe he could just be innocently interested in the gringa or... maybe he´s a pervert. You never know. And as a woman over here you always got to keep you´re guard up. This whole subject is definitely worthy of it´s own lenghty blog. I´ll get around to that eventually. But anyway... he saw that I got on the right taxi and told the driver to make sure I got on the right taxi next. In the next taxi I meet up with two other friendly travelers (one was actually headed to Santa Cruz too) that actually insisted to pay a little more for the cab fare, because they were in a hurry and didn´t want to wait for other passengers. He was a total live saver at the absolutely packed Yacuiba bus station finding two miracle seats on a flota that was just about to leave the station. ¡¡¡ Corre Corre!!! (RUN!) As I mentioned before, if we didn´t get on a bus that night we would have been screwed! And we split a cab in Santa Cruz and he made sure I got to my hotel alright. It is nice to meet a genuinely nice person that doesn´t try to hit on you and ask you for your number or where you live. Tomorrow morning I leave for Coch. I´ll be a little late for the meeting, but I´ll be there. I can´t wait to see all my friends and share all our crazy stories. Hopefully by the time I get back to Tarija all this craziness will have blown over...

Here I am stuck in Bermejo with NADIE!

The realities of living in Bolivia are starting to sink in... I am scheduled to fly out of Tarija tomorrow evening for a Natural Resources/ Environmental Education project meeting and then our IST (in service training) meeting the following week in Cochabamba. I wanted to go up to Tarija today and do some last minute work on my presentation in the office. Problem is that between Bermejo and Tarija there are at least six different bloqueos (people blocking the roads with rocks, trees, cars and anything else they can get there hands on). These bloqueos have been going on all over the country lately (with bloqueos longer than two weeks in the Chaco clearing recently). Usually we´re spared from these kinds of things in Tarija because Tarijeños usually don´t seem to get too worked up about any one cause and give up after a day or two. But these bloqueos have been going on for about a week...making travel a huge pain in the ass, if not impossible. This bloqueo couldn´t have worse timing! The only time when I absolutely need to get to Tarija! The whole time I´ve been here there have been no problems (unless you count the mayors office being shut down for over two weeks exactly when I wanted to talk to a bunch of poeple for information to include in my diagnostic...oh well!! When I asked poeple is the Alcaldia atill closed. They would repy ¨yeah there are still problems¨. Uh... how are they going to work out their problems if no one´s working? I seem to be the only one with this mentality.) The governor of Tarija wanted to ¨peacefully¨ break up the bloqueos becase they´ve been going on for so long, but becuase the campesinos have the support of the MAS party Evo says it would be illegal to forcibly prevent the campesinos from blockading. So here I am...stuck in Bermejo when everyone else is getting ready to leave for Coch. Hopefully they will come to some resolution pronto, beacuse if I am the only one to miss my IST and the chance to see all my friends after three months of not seeing them I´m going be really bummed!

What am I doing?

Some of you are probably wondering what exactly I´ve been doing over here. I´ve been pretty vauge in my explanation because I myself am still trying to figure that out. This past month I´ve been meeting with a lot of directors and teacher´s trying to get going in some sort of direction. Some of these meetings have been super easy. I just explain who I am and that I want to come into the schools and talk to the kids about trash and recycling, play some games and do some fun activities and they´re like ¨alright when can you come in?¨. And others haven´t gone so smoothly. I´ve had people get defensive saying that they already talk about that stuff and what am I going to do that´s any different. What are my methodologies? Umm... to have fun. Methodologies? That´s a question I can barely answer in English, let alone Spanish. Let´s face it, I´m not a professionally trained teacher. I was given a bunch of ideas for creating interactive dynamic lessons conserning the environment. I have no doubt that the teachers are addressing some of the same issues in their classrooms, but Bolivian classrooms are not exactly known for there creativity. I don´t know how to say that to teachers without insulting them. Some times I just seriously want to say look- the kids love me, we´ll have fun and I´m making your job easier. What more do you want? Whenever I walk into a school the kids surround me asking me my name, where I´m from and if I´m going to be their teacher. And when I saw yes they all cheer. Ok well maybe this doesn´t happen every single time, but it´s happened enough to tell me that the kids will enjoy whatever I have to say. It´s worth the frustration with the teachers knowing that the kids want me to be there.

Even if I am covering the same topic at least it´s coming from another person in a different way. Maybe because I am a gringa, an outsider, it´ll have more impact. I may be being a bit too optimistic there, but you gotta be to do this job. Bermejo has serious trash problems. And telling the kids about it more than once certainly can´t hurt. Even in the schools there´s trash all over the place which tells me the teachers a not enforcing the theme enough. It´s definitely a difficult job. How do you get people to care about their environment? What are the tangible benefits for them? You can tell them over and over again about how trash attracts mosquitos and rats that can harbor disease, that batteries pollute water sources with heavy metals, that burning plastics releases toxins in the atmosphere, a plastic bottle will still be in the landfill 500 years from now...but these are things that are hard to actually observe. They´re too abstract to be really effective reasons for changing behaviors. For me it´s more about respecting the place you live and doing the right thing, not because you´re directly benefiting from it, but it´s the right thing to do. In the states I felt rediculous amounts of guilt not recycling everything that was possible to recycle, leaving the lights on when I wasn´t home, if my sink had a leak. Where did all this guilt come from?? That´s what I will try to tell the kids. Not the guilt part, (actually that maybe more effective) but to respect where you live. I know I´m not going to work miracles over here, but if nothing else I have helped plant a little seed for future action. Environmental Ed. is a relatively new subject in Bolivia and hopfully this generation of kids will be the ones to make big changes.

My Kooky Doña

My new ¨Host Mom¨ is an interesting lady. I feel kind of wierd calling her my Host Mom, because she´s more like my land lord that I ocasionally hang out with than anything else. But PC Bolivia requires us to live with a host family (to live within the same walls/compound as a family). Don´t get me wrong. She´s a fun lady. She deffinitely likes to have a good time and make sure those around her are having a good time too. She´s the first one to pass around the wine at parties and trying to hook people up and make them dance together. But she´s kind of umm.. how can I say this in the nicest possible way...a bit ditzy.

She comes up with these completely random ideas. One of the first days at the house she tells the other girls renting rooms that I only eat vegetables, nothing else. And they look at me and ask ¨Verdad?¨ with surprise. And then I have to set the record straight ¨I eat everything. I eat meat. I ate pork yesterday WITH YOU!¨Hello! That actually was the first meal she offered me so I felt obligated to eat it. It was a thick chunk of pork. Consisting of a thick layer of skin (with a few hairs poking out) and fat. There was virtualy no meat to be found on it. Me and Julia just kept digging in with our knives searching futilely for the meat. ¨This is so disgusing. Are we really going to have to eat this?¨I keep thinking to myself. Thank God Julia was there to explain that usually we don´t like to eat the skin and such...just the meat. ¨Oh...I eat everything.¨ My Dona replied with a laugh...clearly. Of course I could have said this myself, but I hardly knew the lady at that point and didn´t want to seem rude not eating what she offered me. So we choked down a few forkfuls of fat saying ¨¡Que rico!¨ (how delicious!) all the while thinking of the brain worms that we´ve been warned uncooked pork can give you. While I´m on the subject of strange foods... I´ve actually been pretty lucky so far. The strangest thing I´ve eaten was guinea pig at my host families house which is actually like a fattier chicken. Not really that good, but not that bad either. I´ve managed to steer clear of the intestines, chicken feet, tongue and stomach offered to other volunteers.

But back to my Doña. The other day I was making cookies in the kitchen. She asks ¨What are you doing?'¨. ¨Making cookies¨ I reply. Then in the next minute she asks the lady that helps out around the house (the empleada) what I´m doing. The same answer ¨Making cookies¨. Ok maybe she didn´t understand me... yet again. Then thirty seconds later she aks her son. ¨She´s making cookies¨ he tells her. ¨Cookies?¨ she asks again. ¨Cookies.¨ says the empleada. Am I in the Twilight Zone or something? What is going on here? Oh yeah, and another time I asked her if there was a hot shower downstairs that I could use. I was sick and it was freezing cold and I was dreading the thought of using my cold shower. She yells back into the house to her son ¨Is there hot water?¨. ¨No only cold¨ he replies. What?! Did she really not know if she had hot water or not in her own house? I was baffled. Hot water is not something you have from one day to the next. You either have it or you don´t. They don´t have hot water heaters down here. It´s pretty rare to see them. What most people do is buy this contraption they put over the shower head. The water passes through an electrical current and quickly heats up. You know how we were always told water and electricity don´t mix? We´ll aparently down here in the southern hemisphere it´s all right.

Also she´s partaily deaf and doesn´t annunciate very clearly so our conversations have been pretty rediculous. So not only can she not understand me, I can barely understand her. Just the other day I was walking to the market with her. She asked when I got back to town and I told her yesterday at about five. Short and simple answer. Then we run into her friend and she tells her ¨Allison got back from Tarija this morning¨. I didn´t bother to correct her. Things like that happen all the time. But at least she has stoped introducing me to people with ¨This is Allison. She doesn´t understand spanish.¨ There´s nothing like being told you can´t speak spanish to help your confidence. Especially with someone you´ve just met! I got kind of pissed after several times with that introduction and told her, obviously aggrevated, ¨I understood that! I don´t undstand every word, but I generally get the idea. I´m still learning.¨ Muchas gracias!

New Address

Not like I´m expecting anything... haven´t recieved anything so far (are you all starting to feel guilty yet?) But my new address is:

Casilla 2
Bermejo, Tarija
Bolivia

And if you should send some Recess Pieces or National Geographic Magazine make sure it´s in a small box or padded envelope under 4 pounds and the value extremely low balled. And I have a cell phone (yeah... I´m a baller) just send me an email for the number. As always, I hope everyone is doing great!!

Other Uses for Orange Peels

I had recently arrived in Bolivia and was walking down the grubby streets of Cochabamba, probably no doubt lost after following the good intentioned, but ill informed directions of a fellow pedestrian when I noticed a little old Cholita infront of me pull an orange peel from her pocket. ¨Humm...that´s curious.¨ I thought to myself. So I continued to watch the old woman. And to my shock and surprise she brought the orange peel to her nose and proceeded to blow her nose into it. And if that, in of it´s self, wasn´t odd enough consider this. One, she pulled the orange peel out of her pocket. Meaning, after she peeled the orange in the first place, she didn´t just throw the peel on the street like any other Bolivian (and now myself) would do. She must have conciously saved it for some purpose. To blow her nose into? Really? And two, after blowing her nose into the orange peel she then returned the ¨used¨ peel back to her pocket! Was she going to use it again! That was just too much. I couldn´t help but to laugh out loud to myself right there on the street. Now I really knew I wasn´t in California anymore. But I quickly had to check myself. As if I wasn´t drawing enough odd looks already... a wide eyed blond gringa (obviously not knowing where the hell she´s going) walking the streets of Cochabamba.

I hadn´t thought about that little old woman and her orange peel for months until just the other day...I was eating my fruit salad and suffering from my second cold in less than a month. Snot began to quickly run from my nose. I looked around for a solution. The toilet paper was in the bathroom. No! No time for that! I quickly looked down at my sleeves. No, that won´t do! I want to get at least a few more uses out of this before I have to wash it again. So logically, I grabed the next closest thing. And as the orange peel hit my nose that moment on the busy streets of Cochabamba came back to me with the clarity as if it had just been yesterday. And I thought with alarm to myself ¨Ahhh! I am that crazy old woman!¨ And again, I had to laugh at myself. And you know what? I gotta say that cholita was really on to something. While the absorbancy of an orange peel leaves something to be desiered... it´s soft and moist. Gentle on a tender nose. And it smeels good too. Maybe she wasn´t so crazy afterall... or maybe she was and I am too.

Engordar (to fatten)

Yes... estoy engordando. We were warned plenty of times- the boys will lose and the girls will gain, but I thought ¨Oh no... not me.¨ But sure enough I have. I probably haven´t gained much more than three pounds, but on me you can definiely notice it. Because of instead of nicely dispersing itself throughout my body and giving me some, oh I don´t know...curves, it has decided to concentrate it´s self solely on my belly. It would be a cute belly if I were three months pregnant, but I can assure you I am not. Instead it is just freakin´me out! I know most of you are rolling your eyes and saying ¨yeah... your really getting fat there Allison¨ and there are probably others with a self satisfied grin saying ¨Ah hah! I knew it would catch up with you sooner or later!¨

It all started during tech week. When we were eating out for every meal and I had an unsatiable appetite. Really, it was rediculous. I was hungry all the time! By the end of the week I was eating two plates of fried chicken and french fries for dinner and everyone was joking ¨Ut oh... Allison´s tape worm is getting angry. We better feed it.¨ I probably gained a few pounds just during that week. But by the time swear in rolled around I was back to eating the regimented light breakfast, soup for lunch and some kind of meat/ rice combination for dinner. I got back more or less to normal. But ever since swear it´s been down hill. Eating out in Tarija, going crazy buying groceries. Now that I´m finally able to make my own food I definitely go overboard eating three times as much as a normal person would, just because I can. And the street food is so tempting! Everything is fried -fried empanadas, fried beef and egg and papas in a lomito, fried dough with queso and powdered sugar (so delicious!), fried hamburgers and hotdogs. Then there´s the pastries everyone is selling. And it´s all so cheap! 50 centavos here a Boliviano there (which is the equivalent of 12.5 cents) You have to get at least two! And then there´s the fact that soda is really the only thing sold in restaurants. The fruit refrescos don´t really seem to be too popular down here in Bermejo. And by the way, people don´t drink water in Bolivia. I have yet to see any Bolivian drink a glass of water. I think foriegners are solely keeping the bottled water industry alive.

My eating habits have changed so much since coming to Bolivia. Soda?! I hardly ever drank soda. Only at fast food places. And all this fried food! And seriously, I have eaten more french fries and bolied potatoes in the last few months than I have in my entire life. And I´ve started eating beef again. I haven´t eaten it for over seven years. But I´m in the land of beef and wine and I´ve got to try it right? I was never much of a fan of it before, but I have been converted. It´s so good! But there is light at the end of the tunnel. Everyone tells me that I will get over the fried street food phase. And the food here is at least prepared from fresh ingredients. It´s not the packaged crap you find in the states. And I am eating a lot more fruits and veggies than I normally would. So it´s not all bad. I just have to learn not to eat so damn much! ;)