¡Hasta Luego Bolivia!

With only a few days left here in Bolivia, I have not yet seen a llama or alpaca in its natural habitat. However, I have done the next closest thing to seeing one. I ate one in the form of jerky. In Bolivia, they call it charque. It’s texture was that of bacon and as Anna would say, it tasted like deep fried salt. I don’t know if it is something I would eat again, but I’m glad I had the opportunity to try it. I think that maybe a llama patty would taste better than llama jerky...

Monday afternoon we all had to go up to the store room in the hospital and take inventory of all the medicine, gloves, dental equipment, etc. I went into it very positive and not feeling overwhelmed. But then I actually walked into the room and felt my insides tighten from the stress the storeroom presented. And this is only part of it:

It only took a couple hours to inventory aisles 1-47 with a group of about ten people. At times it was discouraging because of some disorganization and little to no instruction, but it was an accomplishment—despite the dead pigeons that may have been sitting on top of medicine boxes and sterile sheets...

Monday and Tuesday morning I worked with the PT, again. I absolutely loved it because there was so much conversation between the patients and myself. One woman made me so happy because she told me her entire life story. It started with her talking about the States because her son had moved there. It was so apparent that she was incredibly proud of him and her three other kids in Brazil. Her son in the States is working with universities and alumni to help those who can’t afford education. And her kids in Brazil are working as missionaries. She also told us how she grew up in the countryside of Bolivia and had a hard childhood. But then thanks to God, she was able to make a life for herself and end up the woman she is today with a husband she loves so much.

I also met Dianna, Sulma’s daughter. And let me tell you, she is so sassy but so great. She was sitting at the desk working on homework while Sulma was with a patient and eating a sucker, which mom told her not to eat. But she did anyways and kept playing with it resulting in her having to wash her hands several times throughout the morning because of the stickiness. She kept running around and talked about princesses and words just cannot describe her cuteness:

Tuesday afternoon was emotionally tolling. We went to the pediatric hospital again and four of us went to the burn unit. Seeing children twelve and under with burns all over them was devastating. One girl, Jackelin, was covered in bandages and casts from head to toe. I spent some time reading a book to her. My voice was shaky because I was unable to fathom the trauma she must have gone through and the journey that she’ll have for the rest of her life. She was only able to move her eyes and toes. There were two other children sitting and watching a Bolivian version of The Wiggles. They were about two or three years old with burns covering their arms and legs. Both got very sad towards the end because one of them started bleeding while the other’s legs were in a lot of pain. Another boy about twelve years old had burns and scars all over his face. I talked with him for a while about his sisters, his favorite sports, etc. It was hard for me to put on a brave face for them when my heart was shattering into a thousand pieces. Imagine having to live with those scars for the rest of your life and always having people stare at you.  Being at the burn unit opened my eyes and made me so appreciative for what I have. It’s not fair for me to feel homesick when I’ve only been gone for three weeks while these kids have probably been away from home for months. It’s not fair for me to complain about having an upset stomach or runny nose when their health is worse off. I feel as if I have no right to complain about my imperfections and insecurities because the scars I may have are nothing compared to what those kids have to live with.

Wednesday morning I went to one of the local elementary schools with two of the other volunteers, Bethany and Rachel, and we had to do oral exams of each of the kids and tell certain ones to come to the dentist the following day at 9:00 AM sharp. Their teeth are unbelievable. So many of the children have one too many cavities and rotting teeth because of all the sugar and candy they eat. The dentist was telling us that for breakfast, many of the kids drink water with sugar and have a piece of bread. Their parents send them to school with some money so that around lunchtime they can go to the local street vendors to buy ice cream, candy, and coke. The dentist gets frustrated with the parents for letting their kids eat so much sugar when they have a hard time getting toothbrushes and toothpaste. The schools were given toothbrushes to handout to the kids in February and it is now June. Knowing children, they probably lost their toothbrushes...

Spending the morning with the dentist was incredible. She only saw one patient, but we spent a lot of time just talking about life. She was giving us so much advice about various things: love, travel, Christianity, etc. It was one of my favorite mornings.

Last night we played Wallyball, which is basically volleyball but you can use the walls. We had three teams of five—and guess who was chosen as captain against her own will? I must have been having an out of body experience or something because I was actually doing really well and was scoring points... You’re all probably laughing because you know my coordination, grace, desire to exercise, and athletic ability are all non-existen t. There also may or may not even be bruises on my knees from digging and bruises on my arms from actually making contact with the ball... someone even told me that Wallyball is my calling... what the heck?! 

Even though the past few days have been great and I’ve learned so much, they have still been so confusing to me. Because of the fact that I have to analyze everything in my life, I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here. I know that my Spanish has improved and maybe that’s it, or maybe it’s to remind me that I need to go back to education. Was being in the school yesterday a coincidence or was it God telling me to open my eyes and remember my passion for teaching and helping kids? Seriously, life should stop being so confusing. If only I could see like two seconds of my future: am I working for an ad agency in South America or standing in front of a classroom in South America?