Im just waiting for the church service tonight, so I thought Id hop online and blog a bit. I just finished watching Harry Potter with my Bolivian family, which was pretty nice. At this moment in my house, a couple of children are crying for unknown reasons and somebody is pumping up pool toys for the vacation to the Yungas. Im not going. I decided to stay in La Paz and hang out with the Hursts and have a more traditional North American Christmas. Im excited. Faith is going to have me and Greg make some homemade eggnog and were having some other missionaries over for Christmas dinner. Theyre all people Im friends with, so it will be good.
Christmas here is pretty big. There is a lot of traffic and buying of things. Its similar to the United States. Over the years, Christmas has slowly been imported into Bolivia and now it is quite popular, but it doesnt have the strong family ties that it has in the United States. Friends can get together for Christmas and go see a movie, its not an exclusive family thing. A couple of houses have Christmas lights, but not many. Santa is dancing in the street selling counterfiet shoes, and all the stores are reeling out gingerbread cookies with hard, sour frosting. Its close, but not exactly the same. Hope all is well back home.
Merry Christmas,
Clay
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Art Museum and South Africans
I have reached what I will call the blogging paradox- that is, when you actually have something great to blog about, youre not there to blog about it.
Last Tuesday, I went with my friend Blas to an art museum in downtown LaPaz. Blas is an art student here. He is really good. The art museum was not huge, but with Blas there to explain things, it was amazing. Ive never had such an enlightening time at an art museum.
I dont know where to start with the art museum. Theres too much to tell about to keep your attention through a blog post, so Im going to have to cut it extremely short.
"Heaven is my throne, and the earth is muy footstool. What kind of house will you build for me? says the Lord. Or where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things?" These are the words of the prophet Isaiah in the last chapter of his book and also the last words of Stephen before he is stoned by the Jews of Cyrene and Alexandria before the Sanhedrin. Stephen essentially says the Jews have been, and still are, a rebelous nation bent on worshiping idols. He even goes so far as to say that the Holy Temple is an idol created by man in rebellion against the God who cannot be contained by a building.
In South America, Catholicism is quite a different animal. When the conquistadors came to South America, they evangelized the indigenous people, but their efforts ran a slightly destructive route. In their attempt to bring the people the one true God, they were unable to draw away from the deeply-rooted idolatry already formed in the indigenous religion. The ancient religions still live on today, but with different faces of saints and apostles and angels. The ancient mother-earth god Pachamama is portrayed as Mary with the moon at her feet and the stars at her head. El Tio is the ancient god of the underworld who has become the diablo or devil. Before they set off for work, miners still offer sacrifices to the devil the same way they offered sacrifices to el tio in ancient times. Catholics at many churches will have formal processions where they put money into the clothes of different statues of saints.
The art shows evident traces of this. Most of the art is done by indigenous artists but with strong European influences, so it doesnt look like any sort of tribal artwork or anything, but mixed in with the strong Christian symbolism are things that seem slightly askew. There are some paintings portraying three Christs crowning Mary. These paintings were deemed heretical by the Catholic church for representing God as three identical persons. Its interesting to see that where there is not extreme cultural tension between the old ways and the new, there is extreme synchrotism acting as a sort of peacemaker. I wonder what would happen if Stephen were here to give his anti-temple speech today?
This is already too long. I was going to write about my adventure to Lake Titicaca with the South Africans, but this post is long enough. I leave you with pictures to see of the trip. Ask me about it when I get home.
Last Tuesday, I went with my friend Blas to an art museum in downtown LaPaz. Blas is an art student here. He is really good. The art museum was not huge, but with Blas there to explain things, it was amazing. Ive never had such an enlightening time at an art museum.
I dont know where to start with the art museum. Theres too much to tell about to keep your attention through a blog post, so Im going to have to cut it extremely short.
"Heaven is my throne, and the earth is muy footstool. What kind of house will you build for me? says the Lord. Or where will my resting place be? Has not my hand made all these things?" These are the words of the prophet Isaiah in the last chapter of his book and also the last words of Stephen before he is stoned by the Jews of Cyrene and Alexandria before the Sanhedrin. Stephen essentially says the Jews have been, and still are, a rebelous nation bent on worshiping idols. He even goes so far as to say that the Holy Temple is an idol created by man in rebellion against the God who cannot be contained by a building.
In South America, Catholicism is quite a different animal. When the conquistadors came to South America, they evangelized the indigenous people, but their efforts ran a slightly destructive route. In their attempt to bring the people the one true God, they were unable to draw away from the deeply-rooted idolatry already formed in the indigenous religion. The ancient religions still live on today, but with different faces of saints and apostles and angels. The ancient mother-earth god Pachamama is portrayed as Mary with the moon at her feet and the stars at her head. El Tio is the ancient god of the underworld who has become the diablo or devil. Before they set off for work, miners still offer sacrifices to the devil the same way they offered sacrifices to el tio in ancient times. Catholics at many churches will have formal processions where they put money into the clothes of different statues of saints.
The art shows evident traces of this. Most of the art is done by indigenous artists but with strong European influences, so it doesnt look like any sort of tribal artwork or anything, but mixed in with the strong Christian symbolism are things that seem slightly askew. There are some paintings portraying three Christs crowning Mary. These paintings were deemed heretical by the Catholic church for representing God as three identical persons. Its interesting to see that where there is not extreme cultural tension between the old ways and the new, there is extreme synchrotism acting as a sort of peacemaker. I wonder what would happen if Stephen were here to give his anti-temple speech today?
This is already too long. I was going to write about my adventure to Lake Titicaca with the South Africans, but this post is long enough. I leave you with pictures to see of the trip. Ask me about it when I get home.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Stay tuned...
wow, that phrase really doesnt mean much anymore. but yeah, dont turn that dial, even though nobody has dials anymore, because Im about to blog about my time at the art museum with Blas; phenomenal. Im too tired right now to talk about it and Im going to be gone for a couple days in Copacabana, so hang tight.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Ministry
Looking back on my blog, I notice that I have not given a very clear, cut-and-dry description of my ministry here. Its not that this is a difficult thing to do, but I feel that to so would be taking away from the true nature of the work of God.
If I were to simply tell you what I do here, I would tell you that I go hang out with shoe-shiners and play soccer and wally-ball with them. I would tell you that the work I do is significant because most shoe-shiners grow up in a very rough background and because of this identity they usually drink and find other lowly pastimes to participate in. I would tell you that I am significant because I am building relationships with them and showing them a different way to live in light of Christ. I would say that those who have supported me can rest assured that their money is being used for the causes of Christ and then explain why. I would do all these things and then sit back and feel like crap.
Everything I stated above is true. The ministry I am helping with is great work. There is nothing wrong with it. My problem is in relaying the message to you all back home. Coming to Bolivia, I had this idea that missionaries were some sort of super-Christians, able to step out in faith in a strange and dangerous land to risk their lives for the Lord, unlike the majority of Christians who simply stay in their hometown and go to work. This is not true. Missionaries are ordinary people with ordinary days, ordinary problems, and ordinary families. There is nothing "super" about them apart from their identity in Christ. They are just like you. Seriously.
My problem with giving an account of my ministry time is that I do not want you to go away envisioning me as some sort of super-Christian. What I do is important, but what you do is equally important. A strong temptation for me is to tell you all about all the shoe-shiners and youth I meet, tell you about every bruise and scar and bad smell, then tell you about the laughter and the brightness in their lives, then tell you about their immenent destruction, then tell you about the hope they have in Christ. None of these are bad, but for the hidden adgenda of what would be my writing. I secretly want your aproval. I secretly feel that I must present to you a scenario more dramatic than the one you experience in the United States because not to do so would be boring and uninspiring. I refrain from giving you the sob-story detailes because I find it not only unfair to the people I work with, but also destructive to your perspective. The last thing I want is to create for you some fantasy world where REAL ministry happens, somewhere far away (like Bolivia) where you dont know anybody. The last thing I want to do is to separate YOUR world from THE world. We are not seperate.
I find it fascinating at how different this place is not. Sure there are cultural differences, people drive differently and speak a different language, but its really not all that different. People are still people. They still smile and laugh. They still get angry when someone cuts them off. They still discipline their kids. They still like it when you call them by name. This is not a fantasy world. This is not some "far-away land" with poverty and homless people and jobless parents and possibly elves and hobbits. No, this is an ordinary place with ordinary people, and we, as ordinary people, need to start taking some ordinary steps to help out in extraordinary ways. In Bolivia, in Mongolia, in Somonauk, in Sandwich. I want you to know that this is not an alien world, and that the love of Christ, no matter where it happens, transcends the system of a world bent on its own destruction. Missionaries are nothing special or supreme to spread the love of Christ. They are but one part among many in the body of Christ.
And so, I look not for your approval. I look not for you to feel that your money was well spent. Instead I ask for your participation in a world lost and hungry for truth, for love, for oportunity, and for hope. God bless.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
If I were to simply tell you what I do here, I would tell you that I go hang out with shoe-shiners and play soccer and wally-ball with them. I would tell you that the work I do is significant because most shoe-shiners grow up in a very rough background and because of this identity they usually drink and find other lowly pastimes to participate in. I would tell you that I am significant because I am building relationships with them and showing them a different way to live in light of Christ. I would say that those who have supported me can rest assured that their money is being used for the causes of Christ and then explain why. I would do all these things and then sit back and feel like crap.
Everything I stated above is true. The ministry I am helping with is great work. There is nothing wrong with it. My problem is in relaying the message to you all back home. Coming to Bolivia, I had this idea that missionaries were some sort of super-Christians, able to step out in faith in a strange and dangerous land to risk their lives for the Lord, unlike the majority of Christians who simply stay in their hometown and go to work. This is not true. Missionaries are ordinary people with ordinary days, ordinary problems, and ordinary families. There is nothing "super" about them apart from their identity in Christ. They are just like you. Seriously.
My problem with giving an account of my ministry time is that I do not want you to go away envisioning me as some sort of super-Christian. What I do is important, but what you do is equally important. A strong temptation for me is to tell you all about all the shoe-shiners and youth I meet, tell you about every bruise and scar and bad smell, then tell you about the laughter and the brightness in their lives, then tell you about their immenent destruction, then tell you about the hope they have in Christ. None of these are bad, but for the hidden adgenda of what would be my writing. I secretly want your aproval. I secretly feel that I must present to you a scenario more dramatic than the one you experience in the United States because not to do so would be boring and uninspiring. I refrain from giving you the sob-story detailes because I find it not only unfair to the people I work with, but also destructive to your perspective. The last thing I want is to create for you some fantasy world where REAL ministry happens, somewhere far away (like Bolivia) where you dont know anybody. The last thing I want to do is to separate YOUR world from THE world. We are not seperate.
I find it fascinating at how different this place is not. Sure there are cultural differences, people drive differently and speak a different language, but its really not all that different. People are still people. They still smile and laugh. They still get angry when someone cuts them off. They still discipline their kids. They still like it when you call them by name. This is not a fantasy world. This is not some "far-away land" with poverty and homless people and jobless parents and possibly elves and hobbits. No, this is an ordinary place with ordinary people, and we, as ordinary people, need to start taking some ordinary steps to help out in extraordinary ways. In Bolivia, in Mongolia, in Somonauk, in Sandwich. I want you to know that this is not an alien world, and that the love of Christ, no matter where it happens, transcends the system of a world bent on its own destruction. Missionaries are nothing special or supreme to spread the love of Christ. They are but one part among many in the body of Christ.
And so, I look not for your approval. I look not for you to feel that your money was well spent. Instead I ask for your participation in a world lost and hungry for truth, for love, for oportunity, and for hope. God bless.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A Visit to my Extended Family in Cochabamba
I go to Cochabamba so often, its like home away from home away from home. Dave and Dana, the everpresent guest house grandparents were glad to see me. We talked for awhile and got up to date on life. Dana made me some breakfast and we had tea with Vicky, the cute journalist from England. It was her last day, but she and Dana were really excited because her story had just been published about Danas weaving ministry with local Ketchuan women. Then in the afternoon, I saw my dear lawyer who is always there with a smile to help me hurdle through the extensive bureaucracy of Bolivian paperwork. We had a grand afternoon jogging from office to office, signing papers and cutting in line. After all my visa business was taken care of, I bid her farewell and made my way to the office.
Just like strolling into Grandmas kitchen and smelling apple pie in the oven, I walked into the office and was greeted by about four "hola, Clayton"s and numerous "como esta?"s. I met up with the short-term coordinator Amalia, almost like my adopted older sister. We had earlier gone out for lunch and had a good talk about missionary work. She introduced me to a team from South Africa. They were fun people out on a sort of ministry tour of Bolivia. Theyre supposed to be coming to La Paz with Amalia sometime soon and Amalia invited me to go with them to Copacabana and Lake Titicaca. In the evening, I packed up my stuff and said a long farewell to Dave and Dana and went with Amalia to the train station for my night bus home. It was a fun time. Im going to miss dear Cochabamba and the family I have there.
Just like strolling into Grandmas kitchen and smelling apple pie in the oven, I walked into the office and was greeted by about four "hola, Clayton"s and numerous "como esta?"s. I met up with the short-term coordinator Amalia, almost like my adopted older sister. We had earlier gone out for lunch and had a good talk about missionary work. She introduced me to a team from South Africa. They were fun people out on a sort of ministry tour of Bolivia. Theyre supposed to be coming to La Paz with Amalia sometime soon and Amalia invited me to go with them to Copacabana and Lake Titicaca. In the evening, I packed up my stuff and said a long farewell to Dave and Dana and went with Amalia to the train station for my night bus home. It was a fun time. Im going to miss dear Cochabamba and the family I have there.
Friday, December 5, 2008
When I Get Home
Over the last couple months I have had a good amount of time to get used to the culture, the people, and the food. That is to say that I have also had time to dwell on what I love so much that is missing. A list has since developed itself in my mind of things to do/eat when I get home; things I so dearly miss.
1. See my parents and my brother
2. Play MY guitar
3. Drive a car
4. Take a bath
5. Eat Oreos with whole milk
6. Listen to music - LOUD
7. Play my Epiphone - LOUD
8. Get some over-priced coffee with a friend
9. Throw toilet paper in a toilet
10. Watch a movie without subtitles
11. Drink from a hose
12. Kick a small dog (dont worry, Ill hold back on that)
13. Make fire
14. Eat Uncle Lars Pizza (or a fine Chicago-style deep-dish)
15. Have breakfast and a conversation at Country Kitchen
16. Play with a band
17. Eat any sort of pie made with fruit
18. Burn my back on a heater
19. Go to Brothers with Andy or Zac
20. Sleep in a bed that is at least 6 feet 2 inches long
Hopefully this gives you a little insight as to what everyday life is like in Bolivia.
1. See my parents and my brother
2. Play MY guitar
3. Drive a car
4. Take a bath
5. Eat Oreos with whole milk
6. Listen to music - LOUD
7. Play my Epiphone - LOUD
8. Get some over-priced coffee with a friend
9. Throw toilet paper in a toilet
10. Watch a movie without subtitles
11. Drink from a hose
12. Kick a small dog (dont worry, Ill hold back on that)
13. Make fire
14. Eat Uncle Lars Pizza (or a fine Chicago-style deep-dish)
15. Have breakfast and a conversation at Country Kitchen
16. Play with a band
17. Eat any sort of pie made with fruit
18. Burn my back on a heater
19. Go to Brothers with Andy or Zac
20. Sleep in a bed that is at least 6 feet 2 inches long
Hopefully this gives you a little insight as to what everyday life is like in Bolivia.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Im Still Alive
I havent updated in awhile, so I thought Id let you know Im still alive and kicking. Things have been a little dull lately, but next Monday I am finally on my way to Cochabamba again to finish up my visa business. I have been an illegal alien for over a month trying to scavenge up all the right documents, and now Im all ready to go. Just a few more sets of fingerprints and some signatures and I should be good.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Gringo Thanksgiving
One would imagine that Thanksgiving in Bolivia would not be the same as it is in the U.S. After all, the Americans that are around are a bit scattered, the food is harder to find, and we dont even take the day off for Thanksgiving- it is merely another day at work. One would logically conclude that Thanksgiving in Bolivia is a mild celebration, held only by those who couldnt manage to make it home for the holidays... and one couldnt be more wrong in their assumptions.
A more accurate way to visualize Thanksgiving in Bolivia is to imagine a pack of about 20 close-knit, meat-deprived Americans who dearly miss their great U.S. feasts. With pent-up anticipation of the holiday, everyone goes to every length to make their favorite dish, no matter what the cost. One girl made pecan pie even though pecans are extremely rare and expensive in Bolivia. We had everything- green bean casaroles, salads, amazing home-made bread, sweet potatoe pie, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, turkey (the real thing), ham(with FRESH pineapple), cranberry sauce, and home-made garlic butter. Then for desert we had jello salad, pecan pie, cherry pie, apple pie, and flan de queso. It was a five-hour event with tons of eating, sharing, and worship.
Once everyone had had their fill, and the pecan pie was no more, somebody suggested that we all go around and tell something we are thankful for- typical Thanksgiving tradition. It was an amazing event. The main stream of thought that came out of our group of gringos (there were some English people there too) was that we all had a sort of sense of gratitude in the unity of the body of Christ. Much like I blogged about a few days ago, the recurring thing everyone seemed compelled to bring up was the fact that there is so much unity happening in the Church. Community is happening in ways nobody ever expected. There were about three or four denominations represented in our little group and everyone was at peace with one another and thankful for it. One of the people there, a Bolivian guy, mentioned that this would not have been possible five or ten years ago. God is working in a way that transcends our denominational walls and breaks down our man-made barriers of pride and arrogance. Our tribal identities are not as important as the common ground we all share in Christ. It was a thing of beauty.
Anyway, this was a great Thanksgiving. I dont know that I have ever been more grateful on Thanksgiving than today.
A more accurate way to visualize Thanksgiving in Bolivia is to imagine a pack of about 20 close-knit, meat-deprived Americans who dearly miss their great U.S. feasts. With pent-up anticipation of the holiday, everyone goes to every length to make their favorite dish, no matter what the cost. One girl made pecan pie even though pecans are extremely rare and expensive in Bolivia. We had everything- green bean casaroles, salads, amazing home-made bread, sweet potatoe pie, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, turkey (the real thing), ham(with FRESH pineapple), cranberry sauce, and home-made garlic butter. Then for desert we had jello salad, pecan pie, cherry pie, apple pie, and flan de queso. It was a five-hour event with tons of eating, sharing, and worship.
Once everyone had had their fill, and the pecan pie was no more, somebody suggested that we all go around and tell something we are thankful for- typical Thanksgiving tradition. It was an amazing event. The main stream of thought that came out of our group of gringos (there were some English people there too) was that we all had a sort of sense of gratitude in the unity of the body of Christ. Much like I blogged about a few days ago, the recurring thing everyone seemed compelled to bring up was the fact that there is so much unity happening in the Church. Community is happening in ways nobody ever expected. There were about three or four denominations represented in our little group and everyone was at peace with one another and thankful for it. One of the people there, a Bolivian guy, mentioned that this would not have been possible five or ten years ago. God is working in a way that transcends our denominational walls and breaks down our man-made barriers of pride and arrogance. Our tribal identities are not as important as the common ground we all share in Christ. It was a thing of beauty.
Anyway, this was a great Thanksgiving. I dont know that I have ever been more grateful on Thanksgiving than today.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Making Progress
Yesterday was a good day. All I can say is Greg and I got a lot of stuff done in Bolivian terms. The director of SIM for South America once gave Greg the advice, "If you can get one thing done in a day, it was a day well-spent". We managed to get several things done, making it almost as productive as a laid-back day in the U.S.
Greg and I also had a good conversation about unity and diversity in the Church. We went to Mr. Pizza´s (pretty decent for being in South America) and talked for a couple hours. He had some very valuable insight regarding the Maillasilla Bible Church (the church plant Im working with). You wouldnt realise this from an outside perspective, but the church has actually done something remarkable for Bolivia. They have managed to transcend many socio-economic boundaries. At Maillasilla, one can find any kind of person, from professional upper-class, to Aymara Indians, to impoverished children. In Bolivia, these clasifications are very important and form the structure of Bolivian society, yet Maillasilla, as small as it is, is a functioning church with these walls torn down (or at least partially).
Greg also told me that back in the states there has been some theology that says God has created us to search for like-minded people, thus making a weighted church a good and valuable thing. You have one church for the evangelists, another for the charitable, and another for the passionate worshipers, and together they form the Church of Christ. The only problem with this is that they are not together. Sunday morning is the most segregated time of the week for America. This is especially true when we think about the line of thought that runs through the minds of many U.S. church-goers - which church is right for me? Which one fits my individual needs and caters best to my personal preferences? This line of thought is destructive and runs the exact opposite way of unity. Anyone who has a good family knows there is a certain level of tolerance and appreciation of other family members in order to have a good, stable relationship, and in that tolerance and appreciation, beautiful things come out that would have been impossible if everyone were just like you.
I have made an effort to put myself in a place where I am not 100% comfortable with the atmosphere around me. Going to Harvest has been a bit of a challenge for me in the sense that the majority of the people there tend to function and focus on God in a different way than I do. Sometimes it even makes me uncomfortable. What better place for me to be than at Harvest Chapel? I am surrounded by people who can stretch me in ways I do not naturally stretch myself. Not only that, but the gifts God has given me can be used in much greater ways when used around people with different gifts. We are one body, but with many parts.
Greg and I also had a good conversation about unity and diversity in the Church. We went to Mr. Pizza´s (pretty decent for being in South America) and talked for a couple hours. He had some very valuable insight regarding the Maillasilla Bible Church (the church plant Im working with). You wouldnt realise this from an outside perspective, but the church has actually done something remarkable for Bolivia. They have managed to transcend many socio-economic boundaries. At Maillasilla, one can find any kind of person, from professional upper-class, to Aymara Indians, to impoverished children. In Bolivia, these clasifications are very important and form the structure of Bolivian society, yet Maillasilla, as small as it is, is a functioning church with these walls torn down (or at least partially).
Greg also told me that back in the states there has been some theology that says God has created us to search for like-minded people, thus making a weighted church a good and valuable thing. You have one church for the evangelists, another for the charitable, and another for the passionate worshipers, and together they form the Church of Christ. The only problem with this is that they are not together. Sunday morning is the most segregated time of the week for America. This is especially true when we think about the line of thought that runs through the minds of many U.S. church-goers - which church is right for me? Which one fits my individual needs and caters best to my personal preferences? This line of thought is destructive and runs the exact opposite way of unity. Anyone who has a good family knows there is a certain level of tolerance and appreciation of other family members in order to have a good, stable relationship, and in that tolerance and appreciation, beautiful things come out that would have been impossible if everyone were just like you.
I have made an effort to put myself in a place where I am not 100% comfortable with the atmosphere around me. Going to Harvest has been a bit of a challenge for me in the sense that the majority of the people there tend to function and focus on God in a different way than I do. Sometimes it even makes me uncomfortable. What better place for me to be than at Harvest Chapel? I am surrounded by people who can stretch me in ways I do not naturally stretch myself. Not only that, but the gifts God has given me can be used in much greater ways when used around people with different gifts. We are one body, but with many parts.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Ode to Cochabamba
Oh, Cochabamba, how I long to be at thee
Thy majestic streets of dirt, thy English T.V.
Perhaps one day we shall be together
Through the pushing of papers and prints.
But until that day, I wait in La Paz
And dance around with annoying stints.
La Paz, my bride, but not by choice
You change so dramatically
Like Delilah you ask for more and more
But not in the least amicably.
And so I wait with patience and rigor
For the processed arbor to process within
And in that process, protest the quiver
That I may progress to Coch again.
...In other words, there are yet more complications keeping me from going to Cochabamba and getting my visa. The office in Cochabamba has taken on the task of going through everything and they are going to give me a call whenever everything is kosher.
Thy majestic streets of dirt, thy English T.V.
Perhaps one day we shall be together
Through the pushing of papers and prints.
But until that day, I wait in La Paz
And dance around with annoying stints.
La Paz, my bride, but not by choice
You change so dramatically
Like Delilah you ask for more and more
But not in the least amicably.
And so I wait with patience and rigor
For the processed arbor to process within
And in that process, protest the quiver
That I may progress to Coch again.
...In other words, there are yet more complications keeping me from going to Cochabamba and getting my visa. The office in Cochabamba has taken on the task of going through everything and they are going to give me a call whenever everything is kosher.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Oh My Goodness
I have two words "Indirect Pronouns" with which I answer in two words "absolutely insane". Ok, so there is this crazy system they have in Spanish, basically its all about saying words like "he, she, it (m), it (f), it (plural m), it (plural f)". If those words are direct objects (i.e. He is my brother" you use one of the following: me, te, se, lo, la, nos, los, or las".
If that isnt confusing enough, now I have to learn INDIRECT objects which are "me, te, le, nos, and les". The worst part is the way the sentences are structured. For example, if someone were to ask you "Is the professor giving you Spanish lessons?" in response you would say "yes, he is giving them to me" (ok, so its not a perfect response but it will help you understand). In Spanish you respond with "Si, me las da", which, directly translated into English is "Yes, me them he is giving".
This is crazy and its the first time I have been truly brain dead to what Im learning. I tell this to you as if I am venting anger, which I am, but I am also doing it to help grasp the concept myself. If I can tell you how horrible it is and get you to understand WHY its so horrible, then maybe it will make more sense to me. Thank you for your confusion.
-Clay
If that isnt confusing enough, now I have to learn INDIRECT objects which are "me, te, le, nos, and les". The worst part is the way the sentences are structured. For example, if someone were to ask you "Is the professor giving you Spanish lessons?" in response you would say "yes, he is giving them to me" (ok, so its not a perfect response but it will help you understand). In Spanish you respond with "Si, me las da", which, directly translated into English is "Yes, me them he is giving".
This is crazy and its the first time I have been truly brain dead to what Im learning. I tell this to you as if I am venting anger, which I am, but I am also doing it to help grasp the concept myself. If I can tell you how horrible it is and get you to understand WHY its so horrible, then maybe it will make more sense to me. Thank you for your confusion.
-Clay
Saturday, November 15, 2008
I Am Back. Dont Worry
Im back from Cochabamba, just to let you know. I have been back in La Paz for two days now, but I will be returning to Cochabamba this Tuesday for more paperwork. I just spent all day (8:00am-9:00pm) hanging out with shoe-shiners so I am tired and need sleep. God bless
-Clay
-Clay
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Still in Cochabamba
It is now day three of my grand Visa adventure. My first day was composed of getting fingerprints taken, signing about twenty papers, then waiting around for the next day. The next day I was supposed to get blood tests and my fingerprints taken, but the place was closed, so I had all day to myself. Today I gave my blood to the government and gave them some more fingerprints. They really like fingerprints here. I wonder if they like finger painting...
My plane leaves tonight at 8:00. I wish I could say "that is that" and dust off my hands in triumph, but I can't. I have to come back next Tuesday for even more beaurocratic fun. I might even get to make more fingerprints! Maybe I should sand off my fingertips, just to mess with em.
My time here has been alright though. Last night I went out to eat with a lady named Joanne from Canada (but she's been here for over 25 years) and a Bolivian family. The night before I went out for ice cream with Dave and Dana, the caretakers of the guesthouse. They're like grandparents. Very nice people.
I'm going to go get some sleep. I did a lot of walking and rushing around today. Thanks for keeping up with my blog. I wish everyone back home a happy November 13.
My plane leaves tonight at 8:00. I wish I could say "that is that" and dust off my hands in triumph, but I can't. I have to come back next Tuesday for even more beaurocratic fun. I might even get to make more fingerprints! Maybe I should sand off my fingertips, just to mess with em.
My time here has been alright though. Last night I went out to eat with a lady named Joanne from Canada (but she's been here for over 25 years) and a Bolivian family. The night before I went out for ice cream with Dave and Dana, the caretakers of the guesthouse. They're like grandparents. Very nice people.
I'm going to go get some sleep. I did a lot of walking and rushing around today. Thanks for keeping up with my blog. I wish everyone back home a happy November 13.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Emergency Visa Trouble
I found out today that tomorrow I have to fly to Cochabamba. Aparently, the government recently changed their regulations to aquire a visa, particularly for Americans. They want a bunch of records that they do not usually ask for. I have been advised to go to Cochabamba and take care of the whole ordeal there instead of trying to do it in La Paz. Its supposed to be easier this way.
On a brigher note, this weekend was a lot of fun. I went and hung out with the Jethro group (college-age small group). We played wally ball and afterward went to someones house and I taught them how to play "gran poto" which is the Spanish version of the English game with the same name only translated. It was a big hit. We played with eleven people for over an hour.
Today was fun too. I went with Ramiro into el centro and had a Bible study with some shoe-shiners. I didnt understand 3/4 of it, but it was still good. Me and Ramiro played chess afterwards and he slaughtered me. The only problem with the day was that I hadnt the chance to eat lunch and I was really really hungary. So was Ramiro. He took me to a fried chicken place and I asked him several times if it was okay for me to eat there. He reasured me and told me it was absolutely a fine place to eat with nothing to worry about (check below posts for reasons of my precaution). We had fried chicken and french fries and it tasted great. Im feeling a little off right now.
On a brigher note, this weekend was a lot of fun. I went and hung out with the Jethro group (college-age small group). We played wally ball and afterward went to someones house and I taught them how to play "gran poto" which is the Spanish version of the English game with the same name only translated. It was a big hit. We played with eleven people for over an hour.
Today was fun too. I went with Ramiro into el centro and had a Bible study with some shoe-shiners. I didnt understand 3/4 of it, but it was still good. Me and Ramiro played chess afterwards and he slaughtered me. The only problem with the day was that I hadnt the chance to eat lunch and I was really really hungary. So was Ramiro. He took me to a fried chicken place and I asked him several times if it was okay for me to eat there. He reasured me and told me it was absolutely a fine place to eat with nothing to worry about (check below posts for reasons of my precaution). We had fried chicken and french fries and it tasted great. Im feeling a little off right now.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Fin De Semana en el Jungas
What a fun weekend. Because of the crazy sequence of events (see last blog) I had an awesome time in the Jungas jungle with the college-age small-group people. Everything about it was wonderful, starting with the drive out there.
The Jungas is over some mountains and to get there you have to drive on these incredibly high roads. You are literally driving through the clouds. It's eerily beautiful, not unlike passing through a mythical underworld, in fact, in order to get there one must drive on the most dangerous road in the world (don't worry Mom, they actually built a new, slightly less-dangerous road, so it's okay).
After a two hour slow and steady climb, you go through a tunnel that is over a kilometer long through the mountain and come out on the other side met with sunshine and lush forests.
This is followed by a long drive down. They have these crazy retaining walls made of concrete and giant steel bolts that supposedly keep the mountains from falling apart. The camp we had the retreat at is a nice, comfortable 2500 feet above sea level, so I was actually able to play sports to my full potential.
The name of the camp is "El Puente" which means "The Bridge".
It was a great weekend. I made a lot of new friends and spoke a lot of Spanish. I wish it were longer than just the weekend.
The Jungas is over some mountains and to get there you have to drive on these incredibly high roads. You are literally driving through the clouds. It's eerily beautiful, not unlike passing through a mythical underworld, in fact, in order to get there one must drive on the most dangerous road in the world (don't worry Mom, they actually built a new, slightly less-dangerous road, so it's okay).
After a two hour slow and steady climb, you go through a tunnel that is over a kilometer long through the mountain and come out on the other side met with sunshine and lush forests.
This is followed by a long drive down. They have these crazy retaining walls made of concrete and giant steel bolts that supposedly keep the mountains from falling apart. The camp we had the retreat at is a nice, comfortable 2500 feet above sea level, so I was actually able to play sports to my full potential.
The name of the camp is "El Puente" which means "The Bridge".
It was a great weekend. I made a lot of new friends and spoke a lot of Spanish. I wish it were longer than just the weekend.
Friday, October 31, 2008
All Better
At an unexpected turn in events, I am doing miraculously better. I can walk around and eat stuff. Also, today I found out that I'm not playing guitar this Sunday AND Monday is a holiday, which means I don't have language school SO I'm going to the Yungas jungle this weekend with some college-age Bolivians for a retreat. Thank you for your prayers.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
A Much Unneeded Break
Lately I've been telling myself I need to take a break. I've been going full-blast 24/7 with events and Spanish school. Today I finally get my break, whether I like it or not.
I was awake all last night with a churning stomach. It sounded like an alien colony discussing their maneuvers throughout my body. Then at 7:00 this morning I had to get out of bed to answer the call of some explosive diarrhea. I must have lost about five pounds. Now I'm in bed writing this blog because whenever I get up and try to move around it feels like gremlins are trying to scratch their way out of my gut with garden rakes. It's not very fun.
Perhaps i should describe what's going on around me. I'm in my bed, which is in my room. I've got a dresser to my left with a mirror on top and a night-stand directly to my left. My bed is up against the wall on the right and sometimes I can hear the plumbing. My door is wide open. It's hard to keep it closed. Upstairs I can hear Sergio listening to some loud Spanish pop singer.
Greg just called and they've got a doctor's appointment set up for me at 4:00. I can't wait.
If you would like to pray, please pray. I think I have explained enough. You should be able to take it from there.
Thanks,
-Clay
I was awake all last night with a churning stomach. It sounded like an alien colony discussing their maneuvers throughout my body. Then at 7:00 this morning I had to get out of bed to answer the call of some explosive diarrhea. I must have lost about five pounds. Now I'm in bed writing this blog because whenever I get up and try to move around it feels like gremlins are trying to scratch their way out of my gut with garden rakes. It's not very fun.
Perhaps i should describe what's going on around me. I'm in my bed, which is in my room. I've got a dresser to my left with a mirror on top and a night-stand directly to my left. My bed is up against the wall on the right and sometimes I can hear the plumbing. My door is wide open. It's hard to keep it closed. Upstairs I can hear Sergio listening to some loud Spanish pop singer.
Greg just called and they've got a doctor's appointment set up for me at 4:00. I can't wait.
If you would like to pray, please pray. I think I have explained enough. You should be able to take it from there.
Thanks,
-Clay
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Out of My Element
One thing I've noticed is how drained I have been lately. Everything will be going perfectly fine, but suddenly I feel the need to sleep. Not just that I feel tired, but I'm hit in an instant and I need a place to lay down and sleep. Unfortunately, I don't usually get to humor this desire and I get a little dizzy.
I'm pretty sure the reason I've been hit with this is because I am always around a lot of people. I'm not a big party person. I like an occasional get-together with a few people, but being hit almost every day with a fellowship of ten or more people really takes a toll on me. I'm much more of a one-on-one kind of guy. Tonight was really fun, but it was hard on me. We had a "community group" which is basically a get-together of Christians from the area. There were a lot of the teachers from Highlands school and some people from my church. There were about thirty people total. It was very structured. The guy leading the whole thing was very much a fan of structure and season. Because this is the time between Pentecost and advent, he was a little uninspired because this is the time that ordinary church life happens. It was still pretty cool though. We had a strict outline, almost word-for-word, of how the get-together would be done with lyrics to all the songs, call and response time, prewritten prayer, and a time to break into small groups. It was very traditional, but it wasn't bad. I had a good time, yet I still wanted to fall asleep in the middle of it.
I'm pretty sure the reason I've been hit with this is because I am always around a lot of people. I'm not a big party person. I like an occasional get-together with a few people, but being hit almost every day with a fellowship of ten or more people really takes a toll on me. I'm much more of a one-on-one kind of guy. Tonight was really fun, but it was hard on me. We had a "community group" which is basically a get-together of Christians from the area. There were a lot of the teachers from Highlands school and some people from my church. There were about thirty people total. It was very structured. The guy leading the whole thing was very much a fan of structure and season. Because this is the time between Pentecost and advent, he was a little uninspired because this is the time that ordinary church life happens. It was still pretty cool though. We had a strict outline, almost word-for-word, of how the get-together would be done with lyrics to all the songs, call and response time, prewritten prayer, and a time to break into small groups. It was very traditional, but it wasn't bad. I had a good time, yet I still wanted to fall asleep in the middle of it.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
First Great Day of Spanish Class
Not my first day, but the first day that I actually felt I made a lot of progress. For some reason, when I get a sheet of paper in front of me that is supposed to teach me Spanish, I can't learn a thing. It's not like learning a language, it's like doing math. Plug in the verbs, figure out the formula for a sentence and write it down in the blank spaces. Then you want to discuss it with me? Impossible. I have no clue what just happened.
The first fifteen minutes of class were a struggle, going through homework and walking through some scripted conversations. Eventually, I was just so exhausted from doing language math I couldn't talk anymore. Maria, my teacher, then just started talking to me and I was forced to rip my eyes away from their futile scanning of the paper and look at her. Suddenly the stuff she was saying was making sense. We were talking about how the culture has changed in the nuclear family of Bolivia; how family gatherings use very informal greetings now instead of the formal titles and greetings they used to use for parents, elders, etc. I told her about how it was the same in the United States. I mentioned how it probably had something to do with the hippies.
Then we took off! Maria actually went to college for one year in San Francisco in the 1960's. She had a lot to say about the lifestyle of the hippies. We talked for most of the class. We went from hippies to New York City, to New York City vs. Chicago, to Al Capone and prohibition. In the words of Katsumoto, "this was a good conversation".
Later that day, I hung out with Ramiro. Even he noticed my Spanish was much better than usual. I just hope I can do it again.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
The first fifteen minutes of class were a struggle, going through homework and walking through some scripted conversations. Eventually, I was just so exhausted from doing language math I couldn't talk anymore. Maria, my teacher, then just started talking to me and I was forced to rip my eyes away from their futile scanning of the paper and look at her. Suddenly the stuff she was saying was making sense. We were talking about how the culture has changed in the nuclear family of Bolivia; how family gatherings use very informal greetings now instead of the formal titles and greetings they used to use for parents, elders, etc. I told her about how it was the same in the United States. I mentioned how it probably had something to do with the hippies.
Then we took off! Maria actually went to college for one year in San Francisco in the 1960's. She had a lot to say about the lifestyle of the hippies. We talked for most of the class. We went from hippies to New York City, to New York City vs. Chicago, to Al Capone and prohibition. In the words of Katsumoto, "this was a good conversation".
Later that day, I hung out with Ramiro. Even he noticed my Spanish was much better than usual. I just hope I can do it again.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
Monday, October 20, 2008
Too Much To Learn
I was excited about playing guitar in church, but I had practice today and came out less than hopeful. Fifteen minutes is not enough time to learn how to play latin style guitar on songs I have never heard, nor understand. On top of that, they don't have notes like we do in western music. They have a staff, but the notes are not C, B, D, E, F, G, A, and B. Instead they do their music and write their chords with Do, Re, Mi, Fa, So, La, Ti, Do. So you're not playing in the key of F, you're playing in the key of So. They're expecting me to play on Sunday, but I don't really want to. I need more time to practice. Fifteen minutes is not enough time to practice. That's not even half the preliminary time I spent preparing for practice back home. There's no way I can learn these songs. I don't even have a way to listen to them. It is impossible. They don't really have a band at this church. It's a guy playing latin style acoustic and a drummer playing extra extra quiet. Not that it's bad music, but I don't think they really understand playing with other people.
I also had a rough day at Spanish class. I was really tired and couldn't remember anything. It was horrible. Thankfully, there was a huge march today and everything was sort of shut down, so I had some time to come home and sleep for a couple hours. Well, I guess I shouldn't be thankful for the huge march. It's a pretty big deal. They were expecting 30,000 people to march on congress, but there's actually over 100,000 people. Pray for Bolivia and pray for God's peace to be on this city.
I also had a rough day at Spanish class. I was really tired and couldn't remember anything. It was horrible. Thankfully, there was a huge march today and everything was sort of shut down, so I had some time to come home and sleep for a couple hours. Well, I guess I shouldn't be thankful for the huge march. It's a pretty big deal. They were expecting 30,000 people to march on congress, but there's actually over 100,000 people. Pray for Bolivia and pray for God's peace to be on this city.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Soccer in El Alto and Shoe Shiners
Yesterday was quite an adventure. Ramiro used to be a shoe-shiner and lived a good portion of his life on the streets. He invited me to come play soccer with some of his friends in El Alto. El Alto is unique for the area because it is very flat. It's also much higher than La Paz, and therefore has less oxygen.
We took a bus up to El Alto and walked about a quarter mile to the soccer field. Once I saw the size of the field and felt my heart rate from the light walk we had taken, I knew I wasn't going to be able to play. I'm glad I didn't. All of Ramiro's friends are shoe-shiners from the streets, so I was envisioning a rag-tag bunch of guys getting together to play a pick-up game of soccer. How wrong I was. It was a finely orchestrated event. All of Ramiro's team gathered around as they passed out custom made jerseys and uniform shorts. Then came a long, strategic placement of the opposing team's stat cards to figure out who would cover who. Then the game started with full officiation. Within two minutes somebody got a yellow card. It was an intense game with people using their feet like paint brushes whisking the ball over heads, between legs, and in crazy directions that did not make sense to the laws of physics. In the end it was a tie, 2-2, much like the Bolivia vs. Uruguay game.
What really surprises me about the whole thing is that these people are content with a tie. They feel satisfied in knowing that it was a complete game and their abilities were very similar to the opposing team's abilities. In the U.S. a tie means that the whole event was a failure because one team was not able to triumph over the other. We crave someone to win. We would like our team to win, but if not, it's still okay, just don't let it be a tie! We invent a thing called overtime or go into the next inning to ensure that someone loses and someone wins. We cannot accept equality in sports. How far does this sentiment extend in our society? Does it exist with the way we view our neighbors? Can we accept a tie with the size of our houses, or the status of our cars? In the end, it is not a question of equality, it is a question of values. I don't fully understand why Ramiro and the shoe-shiners were satisfied with a tie game, but for some reason they were.
In Bolivia it is customary to celebrate a triumphant game of soccer with the inebriation of the whole team, but Ramiro cares about his fellow shoe-shiners and over time has redirected the drunken ritual to a new outlet. To celebrate our tie, we all went to a wally-ball court and shared bananas, apple juice, and bread. I don't know how many games of wally-ball we played, but by the end I was almost dead. I'm happy to say I was able to hold my own in wally-ball, although I wasn't as fluent with my feet as the rest. After that, everyone went their separate ways, and me and Ramiro went to downtown La Paz and walked around a bit. We were both too tired to actually do anything so he dropped me in Alto Obrajes, and I took a trufy up to sector A and went home. It was a good day.
There was also Fa's birthday party that night, but you've read quite a bit of this blog and I'm ready to wrap it up.
Tomorrow is the big march on congress to pass the referendum (see Oct. 14 post). The congressmen have been camping out in the building for the last couple days, and downtown La Paz is congested like crazy right now. Schools are closed and I may or may not be going to my Spanish class tomorrow. There's a chance I'll go and spend the day with Faith and Greg at their house.
We took a bus up to El Alto and walked about a quarter mile to the soccer field. Once I saw the size of the field and felt my heart rate from the light walk we had taken, I knew I wasn't going to be able to play. I'm glad I didn't. All of Ramiro's friends are shoe-shiners from the streets, so I was envisioning a rag-tag bunch of guys getting together to play a pick-up game of soccer. How wrong I was. It was a finely orchestrated event. All of Ramiro's team gathered around as they passed out custom made jerseys and uniform shorts. Then came a long, strategic placement of the opposing team's stat cards to figure out who would cover who. Then the game started with full officiation. Within two minutes somebody got a yellow card. It was an intense game with people using their feet like paint brushes whisking the ball over heads, between legs, and in crazy directions that did not make sense to the laws of physics. In the end it was a tie, 2-2, much like the Bolivia vs. Uruguay game.
What really surprises me about the whole thing is that these people are content with a tie. They feel satisfied in knowing that it was a complete game and their abilities were very similar to the opposing team's abilities. In the U.S. a tie means that the whole event was a failure because one team was not able to triumph over the other. We crave someone to win. We would like our team to win, but if not, it's still okay, just don't let it be a tie! We invent a thing called overtime or go into the next inning to ensure that someone loses and someone wins. We cannot accept equality in sports. How far does this sentiment extend in our society? Does it exist with the way we view our neighbors? Can we accept a tie with the size of our houses, or the status of our cars? In the end, it is not a question of equality, it is a question of values. I don't fully understand why Ramiro and the shoe-shiners were satisfied with a tie game, but for some reason they were.
In Bolivia it is customary to celebrate a triumphant game of soccer with the inebriation of the whole team, but Ramiro cares about his fellow shoe-shiners and over time has redirected the drunken ritual to a new outlet. To celebrate our tie, we all went to a wally-ball court and shared bananas, apple juice, and bread. I don't know how many games of wally-ball we played, but by the end I was almost dead. I'm happy to say I was able to hold my own in wally-ball, although I wasn't as fluent with my feet as the rest. After that, everyone went their separate ways, and me and Ramiro went to downtown La Paz and walked around a bit. We were both too tired to actually do anything so he dropped me in Alto Obrajes, and I took a trufy up to sector A and went home. It was a good day.
There was also Fa's birthday party that night, but you've read quite a bit of this blog and I'm ready to wrap it up.
Tomorrow is the big march on congress to pass the referendum (see Oct. 14 post). The congressmen have been camping out in the building for the last couple days, and downtown La Paz is congested like crazy right now. Schools are closed and I may or may not be going to my Spanish class tomorrow. There's a chance I'll go and spend the day with Faith and Greg at their house.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
My First Solo Flight
Well, actually it was more of a solo ride... and with other people... but it was still a landmark moment. I took a trufy all by myself up to Alto Abrajes (where I live). It was a little nerve racking. You pretty much just sit tight, then once you start recognizing the scenery, you say "esquina, por favor" and they drop you off at the nearest corner. It costs 1.5 bs to use the trufy and once I got out and looked at the change from my ten, I was thrilled to find that the driver hadn't cheated me.
I also had my first Spanish class today. My tutor's name is Maria Theresa. She's a really sweet older woman with a beautiful home full of amazing art she did herself. She studied art in college and painted professionally, but twenty years ago she fell and messed up the tendons in her hand so she couldn't paint anymore. She has only just recently begun to paint again. She's very very nice. Her home is pretty empty, like the guest house in Cochabamba, because there are much less people coming to Bolivia, and thus less people who need to learn Spanish.
I can't believe it's already been almost two weeks here. Time is flying by.
Grace and peace,
Clay
I also had my first Spanish class today. My tutor's name is Maria Theresa. She's a really sweet older woman with a beautiful home full of amazing art she did herself. She studied art in college and painted professionally, but twenty years ago she fell and messed up the tendons in her hand so she couldn't paint anymore. She has only just recently begun to paint again. She's very very nice. Her home is pretty empty, like the guest house in Cochabamba, because there are much less people coming to Bolivia, and thus less people who need to learn Spanish.
I can't believe it's already been almost two weeks here. Time is flying by.
Grace and peace,
Clay
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Yo Quiero Aprendar el Lenguaje!!
Today was a good day. Greg sent Ramiro over to pick me up and we went on a quest to find a good printer for the office. I learned a lot today. I learned where I live - en el Alto Braje - and some streets like Calle 10 y Hernando Silas. The corner (esquina) of Calle 13 y Hernando Silas is Plaza Lobo. Calle 10 goes from Braje to Alto Braje. Ramiro also gave me a list of trufy numbers that I'll need to know to get around. A trufy (public transportation) costs a flat rate of 1.5 Bs. Seven Bs is the equivalent to one dollar, so it's a great way to get around if you don't mind sharing a small van with 18 other people.
I'm going to start language classes here very soon. We've decided that one month of intensive studying will be the most effective way for me to learn Spanish, given my budget. Five days a week, two hours a day with a private teacher. I'm looking forward to it. I'm ready to dive right in. I'm craving vocabulary and grammar right now. I've been filling out a notebook of different words I've picked up. Talking with Ramiro today was great because he just started his English classes this morning. He had a bunch of questions for me and we figured out a lot of verbs together as well as how to put some sentences together. It helped a lot. He was really struck by the fact that we say "I have no food" instead of "I no have food". I also taught him about the difference when saying "ser" in English (to be). I never thought about how confusing it is that we say "I AM; he IS; they ARE" but he got it down pretty good.
Oh, by the way, nobody probably even knows this but Bolivia is playing Uruguay today. All radios are tuned to the game and people are crowding around t.v.s in the city to watch. Imagine the most die-hard Cubs fan you know, now mulitiply that enthusiasm by three and then make the entire population just as passionate and you'll get a faint idea of how big of a deal this is.
Monday could be a big day for Bolivia. Thousands of people are going to march in La Paz to pass a referendum which could lead to a new constitution that gives more power to the indigenous people of Bolivia. It is supposed to be a peaceful march, but there is some skepticism about the intentions of the marchers. It's actually not considered a huge demonstration for Bolivia, but lately things here have been getting pretty heated.Here's a news link about what's going on. I'm sure there will be plenty more news on Monday.
Grace and peace,
Clay
I'm going to start language classes here very soon. We've decided that one month of intensive studying will be the most effective way for me to learn Spanish, given my budget. Five days a week, two hours a day with a private teacher. I'm looking forward to it. I'm ready to dive right in. I'm craving vocabulary and grammar right now. I've been filling out a notebook of different words I've picked up. Talking with Ramiro today was great because he just started his English classes this morning. He had a bunch of questions for me and we figured out a lot of verbs together as well as how to put some sentences together. It helped a lot. He was really struck by the fact that we say "I have no food" instead of "I no have food". I also taught him about the difference when saying "ser" in English (to be). I never thought about how confusing it is that we say "I AM; he IS; they ARE" but he got it down pretty good.
Oh, by the way, nobody probably even knows this but Bolivia is playing Uruguay today. All radios are tuned to the game and people are crowding around t.v.s in the city to watch. Imagine the most die-hard Cubs fan you know, now mulitiply that enthusiasm by three and then make the entire population just as passionate and you'll get a faint idea of how big of a deal this is.
Monday could be a big day for Bolivia. Thousands of people are going to march in La Paz to pass a referendum which could lead to a new constitution that gives more power to the indigenous people of Bolivia. It is supposed to be a peaceful march, but there is some skepticism about the intentions of the marchers. It's actually not considered a huge demonstration for Bolivia, but lately things here have been getting pretty heated.Here's a news link about what's going on. I'm sure there will be plenty more news on Monday.
Grace and peace,
Clay
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Going Away Party
Today started off with church. A lady named... Cathy, I´m pretty sure... translated the sermon for me. She works for SIM and is very friendly. She invited me to go to a party for this lady from England who was leaving. The lady´s name was Caz (short for Caroline) and her parents were visiting from England. I talked to them for quite awhile which was a lot of fun. The house the party was in was really small and packed. The real fun started when everybody got out guitars. We played a bunch of worship songs, most of them oldies from the 90´s - Shout to the Lord/Ancient of Days era. They did know some Hillsong, but those were the only newish songs they had, but it was a blast. I was able to play most of what they played, but there were a couple songs I had never heard before that I had some trouble with.
This was one of the most fun worship experiences I´ve ever had. There was a guy named Calil (something like that. It sounded like Carl but wasn´t) and he showed me some new stuff I´d never played before. Sergío (older brother of the family I´m staying with) left early, but I stayed and kept playing. We probably played around twenty or twenty-five songs. I got a ride back with Fá (a girl who plays drums)and now I´m blogging.
I was actually feeling pretty down today after church, but now I´m feeling energized and refreshed. It was a good night. Now to remember all those names...
This was one of the most fun worship experiences I´ve ever had. There was a guy named Calil (something like that. It sounded like Carl but wasn´t) and he showed me some new stuff I´d never played before. Sergío (older brother of the family I´m staying with) left early, but I stayed and kept playing. We probably played around twenty or twenty-five songs. I got a ride back with Fá (a girl who plays drums)and now I´m blogging.
I was actually feeling pretty down today after church, but now I´m feeling energized and refreshed. It was a good night. Now to remember all those names...
Saturday, October 11, 2008
My Bolivian Family
Today was my big moving day. We had a family fun day at the church. Tomorrow is the church´s fifth aniversary so they´re having a bit of a shindig today and tomorrow. It was pretty fun. There´s this thing called altitude, but I still don´t belive in it. It´s supposed to take three months to fully adjust to the altitude, but I decided to play soccer today. Other than being out of breath after three minutes, I think I handled it pretty well.
After a long exhausting day of soccer and games, I was introduced to my Bolivian family. The dad´s name is Jorge and the daughter´s name is Stephanie. I can´t remember the mom´s name or the younger son´s name yet. They´re a very nice family. I felt a little bad for them. They´re trying very hard to be nice (which they are), but tonight they set up a sort of ¨United States¨ dinner. They had some interesting hotdogs, cold cereal, and hot chocolate. I´m sure they were trying to make me feel at home, but I hope they don´t try too hard. I´d much rather have whatever a Bolivian family normally has for dinner. They are really nice though. That´s the main point. They couldn´t do more to make me feel at home.
I must apoligise now because from this point forward I have a feeling my blogs will become increasingly sloppy in terms of grammar and vocabulary. I´m starting to pick up on the broken English that the Bolivians use while communicating with me. It´s getting harder to... finish this sentence with words that Bolivian´s will understand, so I´m not even going to try. lo siento. no comprende.
Please pray that the Lord will refresh my mind when I most need it to be refreshed. I understand that being mentally drained is sure to happen, as it is right now, but I don´t want it to be like this all the time.
The above paragraphs seem a little dark, but overall I´m having a great time. I´m very glad that I´m here.
After a long exhausting day of soccer and games, I was introduced to my Bolivian family. The dad´s name is Jorge and the daughter´s name is Stephanie. I can´t remember the mom´s name or the younger son´s name yet. They´re a very nice family. I felt a little bad for them. They´re trying very hard to be nice (which they are), but tonight they set up a sort of ¨United States¨ dinner. They had some interesting hotdogs, cold cereal, and hot chocolate. I´m sure they were trying to make me feel at home, but I hope they don´t try too hard. I´d much rather have whatever a Bolivian family normally has for dinner. They are really nice though. That´s the main point. They couldn´t do more to make me feel at home.
I must apoligise now because from this point forward I have a feeling my blogs will become increasingly sloppy in terms of grammar and vocabulary. I´m starting to pick up on the broken English that the Bolivians use while communicating with me. It´s getting harder to... finish this sentence with words that Bolivian´s will understand, so I´m not even going to try. lo siento. no comprende.
Please pray that the Lord will refresh my mind when I most need it to be refreshed. I understand that being mentally drained is sure to happen, as it is right now, but I don´t want it to be like this all the time.
The above paragraphs seem a little dark, but overall I´m having a great time. I´m very glad that I´m here.
Friday, October 10, 2008
La Paz: Back Up to 11000 Feet
I'm back from Cochabamba. It was a hectic couple of days. Lots of traveling around, meeting new people, introducing myself, and listening to different tips on living in Bolivia. I was shown the ropes of SIM ministries in Coch by a nice woman named Amalia. She was very busy taking me to tons of different places. We went to the SIM Boliva office, the Christian school they run, and this morning we even managed to drive the two hours out of the city to see the camp. The ride there was with the camp director in his Toyota suv. The ride back was in a minivan (called a truffie) with eight other people- three in front, for in the middle (where I was) and two in the hatch back. I left for La Paz today at 2:00 and Ramiro picked me up from the airport.
I didn't take any pictures of Cochabamba, but I've got four months left to accumulate vast quantities of pictures, so I'm not too torn up about it. Cochabamba does have the biggest statue of Jesus in South American... and I think maybe the world. It's bigger than the one in Brazil. Anyway, that was Coch. It was more exhausting than anything, but I got some good orientation training.
Tomorrow I meet my Bolivian family. I don't know what to expect, but it should be pretty cool. It's late and I'm tired. I'm going to bed.
I didn't take any pictures of Cochabamba, but I've got four months left to accumulate vast quantities of pictures, so I'm not too torn up about it. Cochabamba does have the biggest statue of Jesus in South American... and I think maybe the world. It's bigger than the one in Brazil. Anyway, that was Coch. It was more exhausting than anything, but I got some good orientation training.
Tomorrow I meet my Bolivian family. I don't know what to expect, but it should be pretty cool. It's late and I'm tired. I'm going to bed.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Cochabamba: only 8000 feet
I've been debating on whether or not to post tonight. There's plenty to post about, but I haven't even started my orientation yet, which is the whole reason I flew out to Cochabamba in the first place. I think instead of relaying some boring, hard-to-understand facts, I'll share a bit of what I've been thinking lately.
First off, to let you know the context around which my brain has been maneuvering, I'll let you know that I am currently reading God Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile by Rob Bell and Don Golden. In it, they talk about this pattern God has of redeeming his people. Starting with the Exodus from Egypt going onto the Babylonian captivity and eventually coming to the ultimate in redemption, the redemption of Jesus. Jesus' liberation was not the conventional liberation brought about by spears and chariots. War and conquest only ever resulted with a failed system. Solomon became insanely rich, but instead of using his wealth and power to help the oppressed (like God helped Israel out of Egypt) he used it to preserve his wealth and power and eventually ended up oppressing other people. Jesus' liberation transcended the broken system of violence and erupted in an empire of peace.
Anyway, it's a great book. I don't know if it has much to do with what I'm thinking, but now you know my influences.
It has been pretty nerve-racking being here alone without a team or certain group that I am traveling with, but this is not a bad thing. It may be lonely, but it is a chance for God to grow me, to stretch me, and for me to depend on Him. I think this is what James is talking about when he says to rejoice in these trials of various kinds. It is in our weakness that God works. God listens to those who cry out. How can we cry out if everything is fine and dandy? How can God work if there is no cry for help? It takes a little testing of one's faith to get into a taxi and trust that he's taking you somewhere you're supposed to be. It takes a little testing of one's faith to be immersed in a culture and language you don't know and know that your God is still with you. All this traveling around has been hard, but it has been good. I am thankful that I have this opportunity to have my faith tested in these various trials.
First off, to let you know the context around which my brain has been maneuvering, I'll let you know that I am currently reading God Wants to Save Christians: A Manifesto for the Church in Exile by Rob Bell and Don Golden. In it, they talk about this pattern God has of redeeming his people. Starting with the Exodus from Egypt going onto the Babylonian captivity and eventually coming to the ultimate in redemption, the redemption of Jesus. Jesus' liberation was not the conventional liberation brought about by spears and chariots. War and conquest only ever resulted with a failed system. Solomon became insanely rich, but instead of using his wealth and power to help the oppressed (like God helped Israel out of Egypt) he used it to preserve his wealth and power and eventually ended up oppressing other people. Jesus' liberation transcended the broken system of violence and erupted in an empire of peace.
Anyway, it's a great book. I don't know if it has much to do with what I'm thinking, but now you know my influences.
It has been pretty nerve-racking being here alone without a team or certain group that I am traveling with, but this is not a bad thing. It may be lonely, but it is a chance for God to grow me, to stretch me, and for me to depend on Him. I think this is what James is talking about when he says to rejoice in these trials of various kinds. It is in our weakness that God works. God listens to those who cry out. How can we cry out if everything is fine and dandy? How can God work if there is no cry for help? It takes a little testing of one's faith to get into a taxi and trust that he's taking you somewhere you're supposed to be. It takes a little testing of one's faith to be immersed in a culture and language you don't know and know that your God is still with you. All this traveling around has been hard, but it has been good. I am thankful that I have this opportunity to have my faith tested in these various trials.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Tourism Tuesday
I got a big mental workout today. Greg took me to his office and I got to sit and listen to a meeting discussing building plans for the school. As attentive as I was, I couldn't follow a tenth of it. After the meeting Greg sent me off with Ramiro to go buy some guitar strings and get a feel for the city.
What an experience. Ramiro knows hardly any English at all, but we did fairly well at communicating. I had to work hard to bring up any high school Spanish I could remember. It was like looking under my bed for some old Spanish only to find that a nasty pizza had rotted on top of it and I think some milk too. Overall, it was a lot of fun. We managed to communicate. He was able to ask about my family. I was able to tell him what my mom, dad, and brother do. I was able to ask him about the street system. He was able to explain it to me. It was really a perfect combination because Ramiro is about to start an English class and I'm trying to learn Spanish. Together we made a lot of breakthroughs (if only I could remember what they were). Needless to say, by the end of the day my brain was dead... but it was good.
We got guitar strings and took a tour of the city, but that's hardly worth reporting on yet. Pictures speak loudern than words.
Tonight was also a lot of fun. Greg asked me to lead some worship after dinner. It was just us - Greg, Faith, and the girls - but it was good. It helped me to overcome my fear of playing in front of small audiences. A youth group of 150? No problem. A family of five? I am near wetting my pants. Thank you God for the courage and strength to get over the hurdle of self-consciousness. If you would like to pray for me, please pray about that. I am a bit of a perfectionist and it takes a lot for me to risk my pride to play in front of people or to attempt to speak what I know will be a horrible piece of Spanish gibberish. I am very thankful that I was able to talk all day with Ramiro. I have been praying hard-core for the humility to try speaking Spanish with people and the Lord has helped me a great deal in that.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
What an experience. Ramiro knows hardly any English at all, but we did fairly well at communicating. I had to work hard to bring up any high school Spanish I could remember. It was like looking under my bed for some old Spanish only to find that a nasty pizza had rotted on top of it and I think some milk too. Overall, it was a lot of fun. We managed to communicate. He was able to ask about my family. I was able to tell him what my mom, dad, and brother do. I was able to ask him about the street system. He was able to explain it to me. It was really a perfect combination because Ramiro is about to start an English class and I'm trying to learn Spanish. Together we made a lot of breakthroughs (if only I could remember what they were). Needless to say, by the end of the day my brain was dead... but it was good.
We got guitar strings and took a tour of the city, but that's hardly worth reporting on yet. Pictures speak loudern than words.
Tonight was also a lot of fun. Greg asked me to lead some worship after dinner. It was just us - Greg, Faith, and the girls - but it was good. It helped me to overcome my fear of playing in front of small audiences. A youth group of 150? No problem. A family of five? I am near wetting my pants. Thank you God for the courage and strength to get over the hurdle of self-consciousness. If you would like to pray for me, please pray about that. I am a bit of a perfectionist and it takes a lot for me to risk my pride to play in front of people or to attempt to speak what I know will be a horrible piece of Spanish gibberish. I am very thankful that I was able to talk all day with Ramiro. I have been praying hard-core for the humility to try speaking Spanish with people and the Lord has helped me a great deal in that.
Grace and Peace,
Clay
Monday, October 6, 2008
First Day
Well, not exactly the first whole day. I've only been here for about 13 hours (I got here at 5:20am), but already I'm getting a feel for the place. I'm really glad I haven't had any symptoms from the altitude change. Apparently, most people get really sick or get bad headaches. I haven't had anything except a little indigestion from eating the airline dinner at 11:00 at night.
I'm staying with Faith and Greg for the first couple days. On Wednesday I will be going to Cochabamba for the missions orientation.
The landscape is really cool here in La Paz. It's like driving through a city built in the side of the Grand Canyon. The mountains are really big. Oh, another thing, the sun is incredibly hot. I was out in the sun today for probably 45 minutes max, and I'm already turning red. Greg was telling me that there's something like 50 times the amount of UV rays at this altitude than at sea level. I'm gonna have to get some sunscreen. Today I got to see a school that Greg helped to get going. We also went and visited some of their friends. I did really good at smiling politely while everyone else went crazy with Spanish.
Today has mostly just been a recovery day. I slept most of the morning, but nevertheless it has still been a fairly full day. I know I have four months, but I still feel bad that I didn't take any pictures today. It's a really cool place.
In Christ,
Clay
I'm staying with Faith and Greg for the first couple days. On Wednesday I will be going to Cochabamba for the missions orientation.
The landscape is really cool here in La Paz. It's like driving through a city built in the side of the Grand Canyon. The mountains are really big. Oh, another thing, the sun is incredibly hot. I was out in the sun today for probably 45 minutes max, and I'm already turning red. Greg was telling me that there's something like 50 times the amount of UV rays at this altitude than at sea level. I'm gonna have to get some sunscreen. Today I got to see a school that Greg helped to get going. We also went and visited some of their friends. I did really good at smiling politely while everyone else went crazy with Spanish.
Today has mostly just been a recovery day. I slept most of the morning, but nevertheless it has still been a fairly full day. I know I have four months, but I still feel bad that I didn't take any pictures today. It's a really cool place.
In Christ,
Clay
Friday, October 3, 2008
The First of a Few
So begins the first of a few posts I will be making about Bolivia. For those of you who don't know, I am going to Bolivia on a missions trip for four months. I have never been on a missions trip before, the main reason being that I find it hard to invest the time and money of a shorter 1-2 week trip, but this should be quite an experience to go for four months. I'm excited.
My departure for Bolivia has been post-poned due to civil unrest, but I will be leaving in two days. I have no idea what to expect. I will be staying near LaPaz, which is in the mountains, so I think it will be pretty cold, although they are entering into summer right now so maybe it won't be too bad.
Quite a few people have asked me if missions is something I am considering going into long-term. It would be nice and pleasant to say yes, but in truth I do not feel so much that God is calling me to long-term missions. My heart really goes out to the church in the United States. I feel that God is calling me to contribute to the rejuvination of the Western Church. I'm not too sure what that will look like, but I know a part of helping the Church in the U.S. involves experiencing the Church elsewhere. What is God doing in other parts of the world that we can learn from? I will be helping at a church plant outside of LaPaz and I'm really excited to see how they function as a body of believers. I have never known anything outside of the Fox Valley area (and Carbondale, IL). I can't wait to see what's going on in Bolivia.
Thank you to everyone who has helped me out in making this trip possible. Please pray for me that I will be safe in Bolivia, and pray that God will use me to impact one person. That is all I am asking for. Thank you once again. I will be keeping up to date on this blog as often as possible. Grace and peace to you.
My departure for Bolivia has been post-poned due to civil unrest, but I will be leaving in two days. I have no idea what to expect. I will be staying near LaPaz, which is in the mountains, so I think it will be pretty cold, although they are entering into summer right now so maybe it won't be too bad.
Quite a few people have asked me if missions is something I am considering going into long-term. It would be nice and pleasant to say yes, but in truth I do not feel so much that God is calling me to long-term missions. My heart really goes out to the church in the United States. I feel that God is calling me to contribute to the rejuvination of the Western Church. I'm not too sure what that will look like, but I know a part of helping the Church in the U.S. involves experiencing the Church elsewhere. What is God doing in other parts of the world that we can learn from? I will be helping at a church plant outside of LaPaz and I'm really excited to see how they function as a body of believers. I have never known anything outside of the Fox Valley area (and Carbondale, IL). I can't wait to see what's going on in Bolivia.
Thank you to everyone who has helped me out in making this trip possible. Please pray for me that I will be safe in Bolivia, and pray that God will use me to impact one person. That is all I am asking for. Thank you once again. I will be keeping up to date on this blog as often as possible. Grace and peace to you.
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