CCM Retiro

We had our annual MCC Bolivia retreat last week for three days. It was a good time to spend with all the people from the office, from the campo, from MCC projects, even one gal (Kelsey) from Paraguay.

The location was here in the city, but out towards the airport at a Catholic retreat centre. We left on Wednesday morning and returned back to the office on Friday afternoon. The weather was gorgeous, so everyone was thrilled that the retreat centre had a pool.

The rooms were great, though for a family of five, a little cozy....but we all slept pretty well. I was so excited about the break from washing dishes and Carl was thrilled with the break from making meals. The food was great, although there wasn't a pitcher of water in sight. We brought water from the office (because inside the 4th ring, the water in Santa Cruz is safe and the BEST right from the tap, but outside the 4th ring, it's better to boil) but that didn't last long with 60 people. So our meal beverage was church-type juice and our refrigerio beverage was pop. You can't imagine the underlying distress I had because all I wanted was a glass of water!!

During sessions, our kids (plus 12+ more) were looked after by two great ladies (although, their names slip my memory now). Of course, if the kids were hungry, they got treats, and so they were always hungry. And if the kids were thirsty, they got pop, and so they were always thirsty. Here we northamerican moms are trying to limit the pop to 3 bottles a day at the retreat, without being insulting or bossy (or for me, just plain clear in espanol!). So Asha didn't spend much time with me during the retreat. She knew who was going to give her fanta, and which mean, cranky, nasty, depriving person would not!

All the sessions, discussions, group work etc. were in Spanish, so my head started to hurt after a while. During the first session, I started to zone out after about 45 minutes, until my friend nudged me and whispered, "I think they want us all to share about ourselves based on what is on the board." I froze and panicked all at the same time. Me? Share? In front of all these people? En espanol? I don't even know what logros means? What am I going to do?

So before I could panic any further and throw up, I immediately started to introduce myself, talk about my family, my logros (which is accomplishments...I think), where I'm from. It was pretty pathetic, but I guess I managed because afterward people came up and asked me questions about being a teacher, so I guess I communicated something.

After that I was feeling frustrated at being out of the loop. It's hard when you don't know what is going on, especially with such complicated language. I wished there was an interpreter or someone that could at least whisper the main gist of things to me. Then at least I could get instant confirmation on whether I was understanding on my own or not. Carl wasn't always sitting with me or in the same group. And so I sat in sessions, catching a word here and there, and then being completely exhausted from trying to translate, having nothing left to talk to people outside of sessions. I wondered if people thought I was snobby standing there, saying nothing, smiling and smiling and smiling and then walking back to my room for advil. Oh, I'm sure they are used to it, not everyone at the retreat knew what was going on. There were 8 or so of us that would have been in need of a translator. And the national workers are used to northamericans coming who know zero Spanish. They are more gracious than I think in my moments of inadequacy.

There were some fun things that we did, like singing around a huge campfire and roasting marshmallows. And we had a talent night where our discussion groups put together something absolutely ridiculous. It was quite hilarious. Carl video taped our little contribution, and if I have the nerve, I might post it, because it's a gut splitter (although a little embarrassing).

In all, it was a good retreat. I heard from people that this retreat was a large improvement from last years, so that's always good to hear. Our kids, even though they were in a constant sugared state, had a wonderful time with all the people. Though I struggled to figure out what was going on, I still managed to gain something from the sessions, and a decent amount from the group work. When we got home, I was tired, glad that we had a retreat to build relationships, and am looking forward to next year.

Independence...For all of us!

This is Asha's newest skill that she's mastered. It's quite wonderful when she can feed herself, because then we parents can focus on trying to cut up the other children's food, blow on the hot soup, pour more water, wipe up the spill, all while attempting to fed ourselves before our food walks away with the ants. And with Asha feeding herself, we can postpone the cleanup until after the meal, and pick most of it up off the floor.

Hmm....this isn't exactly an easier or cleaner stage, but it's exciting that she's growing up and learning new things!

Let's head to the Colony

This past week, a number of us MCCer's had a trip to a nearby colony as part of our country orientation. Hans and Elma, who work with Centro Menno, took Ramont and Liz, Lynn and Laurie, and Carl and I. It was a pretty good day.

After coordinating who was going to pick up the four kids at school, where they were going to be, and what they were having for lunch, we were ready to go. I got everything together....except the camera. So thanks Liz for letting me have some of your pictures. Much appreciated!

We drove out at 8 in the morning to colonies Rivas Palasios and Swift Current. They are about an hour drive south of Santa Cruz on dirt roads. It had rained the night before and so the roads were pretty rough. I was glad I took my gravol!

Once we got to the colony, we went to visit a family in one of the villages. The family was quite wealthy and had an amazing machine shop. He makes his own augers and hammer mills. His production was quite impressive. We ladies didn't stay long in the shop, and moved to the house instead. We were given a tour of the house, met her 7 girls at home, her daughter in law across the property and new grandson.

What I noticed right away was how clean the house was. How does one do that in dusty Bolivia? Hmmmm....you have seven daughters clean non-stop I guess. That day, the girls were busy in the kitchen making cringle for an engagement party the next day. I found myself trying to capture the conversation, picking out a few familiar words in German. I wish I knew more, so that I could have spoken too (Liz and Elma speak German)....after Spanish classes maybe I'll have to work on my low German!

We stayed for most of the morning, seeing how they lived and visiting with them. It was interesting because the man of the family was born in Winkler and was thrilled that some of us were Canadians. Hans and Elma told them that I had lived among Mennonites up in Northern Alberta, and he could hardly believe it. Right then I wish I would have been able to say something in German; he probably would have just fallen right over!

By lunch time we decided to pack up and head to the store, that had everything from cookies, canned tomatoes, a pasta maker, and socks. I was excited because I had asked if they sold cloth diapers, and sure enough, there were tons at the store. So for 96 B's I bought 2 doz diapers.

While we were at the store, we also picked up some food for lunch and had a picnic lunch outside the store. There isn't a restaurant or anything in town (I'm thinking that next time we have to make arrangements to stay at someone's house for lunch....mmmmm...weranicki). A few people road up on the buggies and stared at us having our lunch at the side of the store. Elma and I were asked what we were doing, and why we weren't going into the store. We told them we were having lunch. I was wondering what they were thinking of us with our vehicle, rubber tires, and the dark lady eating weiners out of a can at the local store.

By 1 p.m. we packed up and started on the way home. It was interesting conversation, all about Mennonite migration all over the world, our connection to Mennonites, my experience living in La Crete, faith, poverty, MCC....there was lots to talk about. I was really glad that we had the chance to go, it was a fun gang to go on a trip with. Next time, I hope that we can visit a family that is a bit more middle class, or maybe visit a church.

It was definitely a view into a very different Bolivia than the one that's on our back step.

Verbos Y Muchas Mas

This week, Carl and I completed our first of 8 weeks of Spanish language class. Our teacher, Shirley is fabulous because she is so thorough. Normally language classes would take place at the office, but we get to go to her house. And it works out marvelously because she lives just a few blocks from where the kids go to school.

7:50, Carl and the kids take the micro to school.
7:55 Carl walks to Shirley's house
8:00 Carl starts his Spanish class
9:50 Kathy walks to Shirley's house
10:00 Carl ends and Kathy begins
10:05 Carl walks back to the office
12:00 Kathy finishes and walks to the school
12:20 Kathy and the kids take the micro home

And that's what we've done this week. I tell you, my head hurts after our class. We both are learning so much. Poor Carl though, he has to unlearn his Portuguese and his butchered Spanish and re-learn the language. I, on the other hand, had very little Spanish, so I'm a clean slate. We have learned a lot about verbs, but also the different situations where you'd use los verbos ser y estar. Then I learned instead of saying I sing, I can say, Yo estoy cantando. And then there's all the vocabulary. Objects in a classroom, food, days of the week, time, body parts, directions, numbers (oh, I just can't get setenta and seistenta and seiscientos straight!!).

I also have had the privilege of having a tutor as well, who meets with me a few times a week in the afternoon for two hours. Delicia and I work on my Spanish homework and she converses with me in Spanish. On Thursday I had two hours with Shirley, lunch, then two hours talking non-stop in Spanish with Delicia. My head ached and so did my mouth at the end of that!

Some days it's exciting, other days mas o menos, but a few times I have felt really discouraged because the thought of learning another language is so daunting. So I try and remind myself that it's a process, where you will feel like you are making progress, then plateau for a while, then surge ahead on a new plane. The other thing is, I keep in mind the people who have been here for 12-18 months and in that time went from cero espanol to being able to have full conversations. They are my inspiration.

The exciting thing about it is that when I learn more Spanish, I will be able to get to know all the people I work with and all the people at church on a whole new level. How exciting to be able to really know someone beyond chit chat about family and the rain! Instead of concentrating on the daunting task of verbs, I should focus on that.

Now it's Joel's Turn

On Monday, while Kezia was at school, Joel was still recuperating from his surgery. That afternoon, he went to the doctor and had a check-up. Everything looked fine, even though the hernia was bigger than the doctor expected, he said it would be fine for Joel to go to school the next day.

Joel wasn't keen on the idea of going, even when he went with Carl to pick Kezia up. Then they found out the next day the kinder and pre-kinder classes were going to the zoo, "Well, okay, maybe I'll come, but just for tomorrow".

The next morning, he was a bit apprehensive, but got ready despite it. Once Carl got him to school, he was very quiet, not sad, but he didn't say anything for a good part of the morning, his teacher said. Sigh.

I think Joel has a hard time with change and in the last few weeks he's experienced more than most people do in a year, so it's understandable his reaction. Even though he had fun at the zoo, he said he wanted to stay home the next day. He's also old enough to realize that he doesn't speak the language at school and therefore feels left out of what's going on. Joel, a typical first born, won't try anything unless he can get it right, and that would include language for sure. Although today he was asking for his lunch in Spanish, and we gave him lots of praise for trying. He was pretty pleased with himself.

So there's such a contrast in the morning with one child up at 6:45, impatiently waiting at the door, and the other one that buries himself in the covers and refuses to get his shoes on. In a short while though, Joel will be excited about school. He just needs some time to get used to the whole thing.

He did however say that he enjoyed the play structure at school, so maybe he'll go back there again tomorrow....

Kezia's First Day of School

A few weeks ago, Carl and I started the process of looking for a Spanish school for Joel and Kezia. We originally had thought we would like to send them to the popular English school, but reconsidered when we realized how important it was to us that our kids to learn Spanish. Thankfully, Lynn and Laurie had done some school hunting themselves, and so we were able to benefit from their find.

Last Friday, we visited Colegio De La Sierra, and were very impressed. It's a school not too far from where we live, the class sizes are small, the kids seemed very happy, and the teachers were very involved with their students. It's also where Lynn and Laurie are sending their kids and so Joel and Kezia will have two familiar faces there. The administrator didn't seem to think it was a problem that our children don't speak Spanish yet and knew it wouldn't be long before they would be speaking the language.

The school year follows the Bolivian school calendar from Feb. to Nov. so the year is almost over. Because the start is 6 months later than the Canadian calendar, Kezia is old enough to go to pre-kinder because she'll be 4 before the official start of the school year. We debated whether or not to send her, but came to the conclusion that she would really benefit socially and linguistically from being in school. For the last few weeks of school, she will be auditing and then in Feb. she will officially start pre-kinder.

Today was Kezia's first day of pre-kinder and she was so excited this morning. Kezia quickly got on her school shirt and shorts, wolfed down breakfast, brushed her teeth, got on her shoes and backpack, and waited impatiently for me to do her hair. We took the micro to school and got off about 7 minutes later.

I was a bit nervous going to the school, because I'm the only parent that doesn't speak Spanish very well. I had to go and get her into her class, introduce her to her teachers, and some how let the receptionist know that we would be bringing the monthly tuition later that day. I managed and it was very empowering to be able to take your own child to school, or anywhere for that matter.

Kezia seemed at ease when I took her into the classroom. Her teacher, Professora Heidi, welcomed her with a hug and kiss, and told her in Spanish that she needed to take out her agenda book and place it on her desk. Kezia looked at what the other girls were doing, opened up her backpack and put her agenda where she was suppose to. Then she gave me a big smile and said, Chau! as she walked out onto the playground with her teacher and a few of her classmates.

And so there I was standing, watching her go....I got a bit of a lump in my throat. But I said goodbye to the teacher and made my way home on the micro. We're excited for Kezia and we know that she will do very well at school.

Surgery Day

Two weeks ago we discovered that Joel had a hernia. After many doctor visits and blood tests, surgery was scheduled for Friday. Carl had gone to most of the appointments with our country rep, Lizette, but I had planned to go to the hospital on the day of surgery.

Our friend Laurie, who was a huge help with the initial appointments and advice, said to us that we were remarkably calm and collected for what was going on, and that many people in our shoes would be freaking out. I appreciated her encouragement and told her that it was because we felt supported. Now, I'm not going to lie to you, I did freak out inside my head a number of times, but I tried to keep my cool for Joel's sake.

"How am I suppose to get to the doctor? I don't even know this city!"

"Okay, I figured out where the doctor is, but I can't speak Spanish!"

"Alright, the micro ride wasn't that scary but I'm not sure about that hospital."

"So we found another Doctor at a different hospital, now how do I get there?"

"I CAN'T SPEAK SPANISH!"

"My kid is going into surgery! I'm kind of scared about that"

"I can't drive here and I don't even know how to call a taxi"

"My son doesn't understand Spanish"

"Where is the pharmacy?"

So this is what immigrants feel like who don't know the language, aren't familiar with the country they are living in. I am filled with empathy for them and a bit of pity for myself. I felt so inept because my child had a problem and I was totally reliant on someone else to help me with that problem. I know I would have felt so much better if we were back at home, I could call my doctor, drive in my own vehicle to his office, I could read the cardiologist report, I would know how to get to the hospital and answer all the questions.

We arrived at the hospital and Lizette answered the receptionists questions. We were led into a small room and that's where Joel started to cry. He said over and over that he didn't want this to happen and that he wanted his dad. I felt really bad for him and told him that it would be over soon and that I wouldn't leave him. He got into a gown and then the nurse came with a long needle on a silver tray. That's when he started weeping. It's been 10 needles since July and he wasn't that keen on having another one, especially a huge one in the butt.

Immediately the shot took effect and Joel was lying on the stretcher, looking peaceful and dazed. I quickly prayed with him before they wheeled him away and reminded them that my son doesn't understand or speak Spanish. Lizette stayed with me and we chatted for the 45 minutes that Joel was in surgery. Our visit made the time go by quicker.

I was so relieved when the Dr. came to get me and led me to the recovery room where Joel was. He was still out, the Dr. pointed out where the incision was, and told me that he would probably cry when he woke up. I sat with him for 30 minutes, thankful to God that everything went well, and hoped that he would come to soon.

It was like one moment he was sleeping and the next he was sitting up, yelling, "Where the heck am I? How did I get in here? The hour was over pretty fast Mom". It was a bit humorous, a nice way to lighten the mood. The nurse who was attending spoke zero English and asked me a number of times what Joel's height was. I knew what his height was in inches, but she needed them in centimetres (I'm guessing). There was another lady in the room who kept telling the nurse over and over again that I didn't speak Spanish. I felt so helpless standing there, not being able to communicate with the nurse. She just looked at me blankly and I mumbled "desculpe" and went back to my chair.

Joel asked every five minutes for 75 minutes if it was time to go home yet. He was able to get out of bed and go to the bathroom but we had to wait a full two hours before we could go. We watched a bit of Spanish t.v. and tried to small talk with the nurse in simple Spanish. Ten minutes before we were due home, the nurses switched and a new one came on. She spoke a bit of English, oh where was she an hour ago?

As we were getting ready to leave, they got a wheelchair for Joel. He took one look at it and said, "Why would they get that for me? It's not like my legs are broken, my stomach was the problem".

Lizette picked us up and we got home. I was so hungry and Joel was too, but he couldn't have any solids until he had a bowel movement. He did remarkably well at home considering he had surgery. He was up walking around a bit. We did tell him however that he needed to take it easy, but a few times he got angry with us. Finally, I gave him the inside scoop of internal bleeding and that he'd have to go back to the hospital and stay for the night; then he got it and sat down.

We are so thankful that it's all over with. Definitely a stretching experience for us all. Thank you for praying for him and for us. We really appreciate it. Hopefully we won't have anymore experiences like that for a while.