I'm Coming Home...

Before leaving Bolivia, a friend made a list of things she will miss about Bolivia, as well as things she is excited to see and experience in the States. I thought it was a great idea, and a way to wrap up my time here.

It's difficult to write this because as excited as I am to go home and begin a new stage of my life--finding a job (Hopefully, this will happen soon), becoming a North American again, and eating every variety of food I missed in Bolivia--I will miss the land-locked country, and especially the wonderful kids I have worked with. I probably have said this more than 5 times a day recently, but I really wish I could be in two places at once.

Below is a very short, succinct list of things I will miss about living in Bolivia:

• First and foremost, the Children, the Tias, and the Staff of Ninos con Valor--they have all brought so much love and joy, laughter and enlightenment to my life. I will never forgot the amazing memories I shared with them--hiking in the Andes Mountains, laughing until I cried, sleepovers and movie time, putting the kids to sleep, carnival days, amazing hugs and kisses...I could go on forever. But, these very important people are what made my Bolivian experience so wonderful and life changing. 
• The amazing fruits and vegetables. Now, I know most people don't eat this type of food while in a third-world country, but I just couldn't help myself! The very sweet, succulent flavors will remain on my taste buds forever. 
• Celebrating birthdays with the kids is always fun, especially all the traditions, including getting the first, big bite of your cake! 
• The Cancha (The huge outdoor market). You can buy anything and everything, and every time I go, it's a new adventure, which usually means getting lost and wandering around until I find myself in a familiar area. 
• Fresh-squeezed orange juice on the streets, and yes, it's parasite free and amazing! 
• The wonderful friends I have met while here, and the amazingly hilarious times, including riding in the back of pick-up trucks at 2 AM and climbing into dump trucks to visit small communities in the mountains, terrace nights with beers and cacho (A typical Bolivian dice game) and nights spent at Casablance, Na Cunna, and Fragmentos. 
• The public transportation system--it's cheap, easy, and amazingly convenient! 
• The beautiful, green parks and plazas where you can sit and chat, or play and run with the kids. 
• Traveling and exploring the beautiful, diverse, culturally rich country of Bolivia! I greatly enjoyed visiting the different departments--from jungly, humid Santa Cruz to cold, mountainous La Paz! 
• Taking pictures of every little thing to ensure I won't forget what it looked like, what I felt like when I saw it...Pictures for me are a way to continue living a memory--a hug from one of the kids, paragliding in the Andes Mountains, a exotic new food like tongue, dancing traditional Bolivian dances....

This is an extremely condensed version of everything I will miss, but some of the most important things. 

These are the things I am excited about and looking forward to once I hit the ground in Miami: 

• Hugging, catching up, and spending time with family and friends I have missed so much! I can't wait to hear stories from the time I have bee gone, and spend hours chatting. I can't wait to laugh and giggle with my friends! :)
• Eating a variety of foods not found in Bolivia--Thai, Indian, really good Chinese, amazing Mexican, good Italian food, sandwiches (Especially from Genova's), and North American breakfast food. Oh my! 
• Finding a job I am passionate about, which hopefully, happens sooner than later. Because of my time working with NCV, I want to give children a voice, especially those who have been abused and neglected, abandoned and forgotten about. 
• Hot showers that have good water pressure! In Bolivia, the pressure is absolutely horrible, and it takes about 20 minutes to get the shampoo out of my hair. 
• Being able to drink tap water, especially since the water in the Bay Area is from the Gods--It's amazingly delicious! NO MORE BOILING WATER! :)
• Being able to eat fruits and vegetables raw and without cleaning them with chemicals and boiled water. 

It is very strange that this is my last Bolivian blog post. But, I know there will be more in the future.

In a little over 24 hours, I will be in Miami, filled with mixed emotions--yearning to be heading back to South America, but overjoyed and excited to be boarding a plane to California. I may not be able to see the kids everyday, but their smiles and laughter are burned into my memory, my heart, and my soul, and I will see them in my dreams. It will be impossible to erase these wonderful memories or forget the little faces that greeted and bid me farewell with hugs and kisses. 

Oh, Bolivia, you are a special, magical place, and you, along with the children of Ninos con Valor will hold my heart forever.

Until next time, Chao, Bolivia, and chao ninos! Van a estar en mi corazon por siempre. 

Goodbye, Bolivia and My Favorite Children

The goodbye party for some of us volunteers at the boys' home--they are too cute! 

Saying goodbye to the girls and the CdP Tias on Sunday--one of the hardest days of my life. 

Sitting here in a hotel in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, feeling worlds away from the children, the tias, and the staff of Ninos con Valor. As excited as I am to go home, I miss them already, and feel this weird, empty void. The kids of NCV have taught me so much--undying love, endless compassion, true bravery, unconditional love and joy, and helped me reach a new understanding of my religion. I can't imagine my life without this experience, as I have been changed forever. Thank you to the wonderful kids, and the amazing tias and the staff for the most wonderful memories.

Yesterday, we left Cochabamba in the morning, and it was sad looking out the window at the familiar scenery--barking street dogs, women washing clothes and cooking street food, children walking to and from school in their "guardapolvos" (White coats worn to school), and remembering the amazingly beautiful smiles of the NCV kids that have been burned into my mind, my heart, and my soul.

The girls who have school in the afternoon and the boys at the airport with me--what a wonderful surprise!

We arrived at the airport, and I was trying to push down the feelings of sadness while talking to the airline check-in desk. I turned around, and saw Celia, one of my good friends, and a tia at Corazon del Pastor (The girls' home). She talked to me as I walked to pay our airport taxes. As I turned around, I saw the girls and boys walking in holding hands and carrying signs. I started to cry, since I thought I had seen their beautiful faces for the last time the previous day. We spent some time chatting and taking pictures, and I dreaded when the time came to enter the "boarding room." Giving them hugs and kisses, and having them whisper, "Tia, don't leave," broke my heart. These kids have been my little siblings, brought so much laughter, love, and joy to my life, and taught me lessons of the heart over the past two-and-a-half years. However, despite the sadness, it was so wonderful to see their faces and give them hugs one last time. It was just as difficult to say goodbye to the tias--they have become my friends, invited me to holidays and family parties, and helped me with my Spanish and understanding the Bolivian culture. A few of the tias had tears streaming down their faces, and made me promise to return soon.

We arrived in La Paz, and took it easy, as the altitude had affected all of us. After dinner, I called the girls' home for the last time, which was bittersweet. It was wonderful hearing their voices, but made me sad as they asked where I was, what I was doing, and exclaimed that they all missed me. However, the worst part was talking to one of the older girls--over the past 2 years, we have become good friends, and she was the first older girl to open up and share her life with me. She asked where I was and how my parents and I were doing, and as she started to say "I miss you, Tia," she began to cry--my heart literally broke. I told her how much I loved her and missed her, and we exchanged a very tearful goodbye. It was most difficult to hear her, and know I wasn't close enough to give her a hug and a shoulder to cry on.

Today was a little better than yesterday, but I still think of the kids, and tears come to my eyes. It's difficult to imagine that I'm still in the same country as the children, the tias, and the staff, but I feel like I am millions of miles away, in a whole different world. And, this makes me worry about heading home, which puts thousands more miles between us. I only hope the kids will remember me, and that I can return soon to see their smiling, happy faces, and visit the tias and the staff, who have supported me and shown me friendship and support.

Thank you to my Ninos con Valor family for everything--wonderful memories, love and joy, countless hours of laughter and smiles, friendship, etc. I will never forgot my time in Cocha, and will hold every child and every memory in my heart forever.

Oruro: Welcome to the Devils' Town

The day before Celia and I left for Oruro, a smaller settlement of the Southern Altiplano, I worked a 24 hour shift at the girls' home. Oruro is a miners' city, has an extremely rough, tough climate, which coupled with poverty, has hardened the people. Most of the inhabitants are indigenous and speak Quechua. But, despite the extreme cold and the very high altitude, I enjoyed Oruro, the place with the biggest, most famous Carnaval celebration in Bolivia. Hence, the city of the Devil, as the Morenada, a traditional dance of Bolivia, was created here in this small Altiplano city.

Oruro is about 4-5 hours by bus from Cochabamba, and we arrived around 8:30 AM after waking up in the middle of the night to head to the bus terminal. We arrived, found a hotel, got ready, and set out to explore the city. Our first stop was for a Saltena (A traditional Bolivian snack that is like a pot pie, but picked up, shaken, and eaten.) Because of the altitude, looking back, this was not the best idea, but that part of the story comes later. We then headed to the northern part of the city to the Kantuta market, which is huge! Vendors and sellers line street after street offering deals for clothes and shoes, animals and school supplies, etc. After a few hours, I began to feel the affects of the altitude, and sadly, after getting sick in the market, put an end, and a damper on our first day.

The next day, after getting sleep and becoming more acclimatized, we headed to Obrajes, natural, hot pools about 20 minutes outside of the city. We spent the whole morning relaxing and chatting, while enjoying the nice, warm waters. However, leaving the pools and entering the very cold, chilly air was the worst part.

The main pool at Obrajes, but there are other smaller pools around this one.

After trying to get as dry and warm as possible, and getting dressed, we had a relaxing lunch and then headed back into the city. After dropping our wet clothes off at the hotel, we walked around the city, taking pictures, stopping for warm drinks, and entering small shops. We met up with Celia's friend and made plans for later that night. After a quick shower, we had dinner with Celia's friend, her boyfriend, and two kids. After, we went out to dance and celebrate San Juan, the longest, coldest night in Bolivia. Traditionally, people make bonfires to keep warm and cook hot dogs, while waiting for the sun to come up.

Our last day was packed--we went to see where the famous Carnaval celebration happens every year--Sanctuario de la Virgen de Socavon. Today, a church stands with a portrait of the Virgen, and during the festivities, the dancers enter the church on their knees, crawling to the Virgen, and promising to dance 3 years. However, years ago, this was a mine. This is an interesting parallel--a church, and a mine, which is considered a type of hell by many in Bolivia.

Celia and I in front of the monument to Miners outside of the Sanctuario de la Virgen de  Socavon. 

The Sanctuario de la Virgen de Socavon, the Sacro Museum, and the mining museum.

After walking around the church, we climbed down into the old mine, and saw tools used, the old tunnels, and the "Tio," the spirit of the underground. The miners give coca, cigarettes, and alcohol to the "Tio" to protect them and keep them safe during their time underground. Upstairs, is the Sacro Museum, which holds old dance costumes, church artifacts, etc.

Inside the Santuario--the ceiling is absolutely beautiful, and depicts the Virgen fighting certain evil entities. 

After, we headed to the Faro, where Bolivia's red, gold, and green flag was raised for the first time in 1851. (Red for the courage of the Bolivian army, gold for the country's mineral wealth, and green for its agricultural wealth.) Today, a huge platform with a column topped with a glass globe stands to commemorate this event. From the Faro, you can see the whole city!

The Faro

View of a section of the city from the Faro. 

After the Faro, we walked around and visited plazas and small streets with very old, antique buildings. The zoo was our last stop, and we were accompanied by Celia's friends kids. It was fun to watch as they ran around excitedly looking at the animals. Not wanting to leave, we headed to the bus station around 5 to head back to the city of eternal spring, Cochabamba.

Despite the horrible altitude sickness and the extreme cold, Oruro is an interesting city, hardened by their past of poverty and mining to make a living, as well as the extreme weather. The small city is full of character and history, but is a hidden gem that few have experienced.

Santa Cruz: Welcome to the "Jungle"

Once before, I had a one-night stay in Santa Cruz, and to be honest, it was awful--a very weird, creepy, not so clean hotel; a very shady area around the hotel; and extreme humidity--a horrible combination. Although the heat and humidity were terrifying, my recent excursion to the land of the Cambas (People from Santa Cruz are referred to as Cambas) was, surprisingly, relaxing and fun. I guess I was in the wrong part of the city previously.

 Before we headed east to the city that screams autonomy (Many Cambas/Crucenos want to break apart from the rest of Bolivia to create a new country or join Brazil because of their "more European/North American blood"), a friend said that from what she had heard about Santa Cruz, it was full of good-looking people and cocaine floating in the air. I, on the other hand, thought it was a creepy and very dirty city. However, as it turns out, neither of us were correct.

 My friend, Brianna, and I arrived by bus after a 10 hour ride from Cochabamba. I was very tired (I had worked an overnight shift at the girls' home the night before), sweaty, and to be honest, smelly. I was ready for a shower and some good food. I said goodbye to Brianna, who made life brighter for a few weeks--it was very sad to see her go. After seeing her walk through security, I headed to the city center, and place I realized I had never visited, which is probably why I had these incorrect perceptions of a pleasant city.

 After finding a reasonable, clean hotel, I showered and napped for a bit. After, I headed to one of my favorite places in Bolivia--Alexander Coffee. (Sadly, Alexander Coffee does not exist in Cochabamba.) The rest of the afternoon included stops for cold drinks while exploring the city. I was surprised to find that Santa Cruz, contrary to my previous thoughts, is a friendly, easily walkable, fairly clean, fairly safe, pretty city--I wish I had realized this before!

The Main Plaza

The cathedral in the Main Plaza. You can climb the bell tower, and see the whole city! 

Alexander Coffee--one of the best cafes ever! 

 You may be wondering why the "jungle" is mentioned in my blog title. Well, here begins my adventure and journey into the rough, but beautiful "jungles" of Santa Cruz. The next morning, I headed to Biocentro Guembe, which is a ways from the hustle and bustle of the city center. Guembe is in the "jungle" and is on an enormous property, which includes a beautiful butterfly sanctuary, a "natural" bird habitat, a wild orchid garden, numerous natural pools, museums, animal exhibits, cafes and restaurants, etc. It's an amazing place, but bug repellent is a must. I didn't even realize, but the mosquitos are plentiful and vicious. However, despite the mosquito hordes and my ridiculous amounts of bites, I had a wonderful time wandering around the property, watching the beautiful, delicate butterflies, observing the birds, and swimming and laying by the pool. After a long day in the "jungle," getting, literally, eaten alive, I headed back into the city to have a relaxing late afternoon and night.

One of the hundreds of butterflies in the sanctuary.

Looking towards the city from the tower in the bird sanctuary. 

The orchid garden! 

 My last day in Santa Cruz consisted of a long, relaxing stay at Alexander Coffee, soaking in the atmosphere and the delicious food, and more city exploring. My few days in Santa Cruz were pleasant and relaxing, something I never thought I would say. Thank you for proving me wrong, and being a city of nice restaurants and cafes, easily walkable, clean, safe, fun, and interesting. I can honestly say, Santa Cruz is worth visiting and experiencing!

God is Love.

Since arriving in Bolivia over two years, I have had the time of my life. I have learned more about myself than I would have sitting in a classroom, and I got to experience God in ways I never had.

 I have always “struggled” with my religion, asking God why he allows so much pain and hurt, devastation and sadness to exist. I could never really wrap my head around the fact that, most likely, we are the ones that create the suffering and the anguish. But, working with the amazing children of NCV has opened my eyes to a new beauty of God. God is love. Period. Many of these children have suffered abuse, neglect, abandonment, and trauma; things a child should never have to live through. But, despite these times of sadness and darkness, they still have the ability to love, to trust, to laugh, to smile, and to hug. That is love, and that is God. In their eyes, in their spirits, in their laughter and theoir smiles, in their hugs and their kisses, and in their ability to love immensely and genuinely, I see and experience God. 

Thanks to the children of NCV, I have discovered God–his beauty and his love.

But, My Heart Still Aches...

I guess working in a home for children means learning about the adoption process, and eventually, visiting Child Defense, SEDGES, and the judge who resides over adoptions and family cases. With the assistance of Sonia, Ninos con Valor's social worker, I visited these offices. And I will remember the experience not because it was an enlightening and a learning one, but because of the thousands of children who have been there--files stacked on the floor and being interviewed about their traumatic pasts.

 Sonia needed to check on papers she had submitted a few weeks ago. Because we were meeting one of the OAT families after, I tagged along, thinking what a great opportunity it would be. However, what I saw and heard made my heart ache for all the kids who are part of this very unorganized system. And, of course, their participation is not by choice.

 Our first stop was the psychologist who works for the judge who resides over new adoptions. She was extremely friendly and caring, and is currently observing two kids who have been adopted in the past few months. It was obvious she enjoys what she does, but has seen a lot--too much--of sadness. She chatted with us for a bit, but had to return to a client shortly after. It is comforting to know that a woman so kind, so patient, and so gentle is an integral part of the adoption process--helping and mentoring children, many who have previously been neglected, abused, abandoned, and scarred, and need a positive, caring figure during a time of such change and transition.

 Next, we visited the judge's secretary to check on some paperwork. His half of the office, which is separated from the other by a very full, messy bookshelf, is filled with papers tied together to create files for the children who have been removed from dangerous situations, those in homes, those waiting to be adopted, and those who have been abandoned and neglected. My heart literally broke as I turned in a full circle and saw the hundreds of "files" stacked on the floor, on chairs, bookshelves and on desks. The secretary, an older man, seemed very flustered, and saddened by the astounding number of children who have been, and continue to be affected by violence and neglect. He searched and searched, and finally found the papers Sonia had sent a month before, and had heard nothing about. 

Our last stop was a block to the west--Child Defense. Just entering the building was traumatizing--babies crying, mothers standing in lines, and a mother dragging her child by his arm. This all seemed normal to everyone, which shocked me even more. Sonia walked right in and demanded to speak with one of the case workers. As she talked with him, I looked around as children were getting interviewed and parents were submitting papers to either terminate their rights or to try to regain custody. Despite the fun, colorful paintings on the wall, the sadness and the hurt were palpable and alive. The children sitting at the desks and the on the benches waiting had eyes full of hopelessness and hurt, while the parents had eyes full of regret and pain.

 The fact that a number of the NCV children were those children I saw at Child Defense who had little hope left and yearned for a better life, and once were the "files" stacked around the secretary's office made my heart hurt even more. However, at least 34 children are in a home that supplies love, support, affection, proper nutrition, medical care, counseling, etc. I am privileged to work with these children who have experienced things a child should never have to, but who have survived, grown, and still possess the capacity to love and trust. It truly is incredible.

 But, my heart continues to ache for the hundreds of children who are the "files" on the floor and those in interviews pleading for a better, safer, healthier life.

"I Don't Have a Mom"

Mother's Day tends to be a difficult day for the boys and the girls of Ninos con Valor. A day dedicated to someone who is supposed to protect you, love you, watch you blossom, grow, and mature with enthusiasm and care is hard for someone who lives in a home and has been scarred and damaged by their mother, their friend, their confidant, their #1 supporter.

 I wish I could bottle all the love, kindness, and patience my mom (And my dad) had for me, and share it and spread it around the world to children who are lacking love, and those who have been damaged and neglected, abused and abandoned.

 I have been accompanying one of the middle girls to school on the bus. Earlier this week, we were chatting, and she sadly leaned over and asked a question. "Tia, Is this Sunday Mother's Day?" It took me by surprise, and I didn't know what to do when I saw the pain, hurt, and sadness on her face. "Yes, this Sunday is Mother's Day," I responded. She turned to look out the window, and sadly said, "I don't have a mom to celebrate with."

 This absolutely shattered my heart. I turned to her, and said, "You may not have a mom, but you have lots of tias who love you so much. And, you have 22 sisters who will be your best friends forever. This may not take the place of a mother, but we love you more than you know, and give you all the support, affection, and love we have in our hearts." She smiled, and said, "You're right, Tia." I only wish I could give her more, but sometimes, words, hugs, and smiles are all I have.

 We got off the bus and walked towards her school. I walked her to the door, and as I was about to leave, she grabbed me and gave me a big hug. "Tia, thanks for everything. I love you," she said in my ear. This was a beautiful, tender moment--something I will never forget.

 Thank you, for reminding me how lucky I am to be a part of your lives--celebrating the exciting moments, laughing at the funny and embarrassing moments, and there to provide a hug and a smile during the rough, sad moments.

So Real. So Pure. So Genuine. So Tender.

I can't imagine celebrating a birthday without my mom, my dad, or my family. Especially when I was younger, birthdays were always important and always celebrated--grand dinners, lots of laughs, presents, and memories were created. Memories that will always be cherished.

Last month, Adriana celebrated her 13th birthday--the special year of becoming a teenager. Her older sister, Sofia, also lives in the home, and the two sisters are extremely close. Adriana looks up to Sofia--emulates her, learns from her, and appreciates her.

The last Saturday of March was Adriana's big day, and after dinner we brought out her cake. We began singing, and she looked down sadly, almost as if she didn't want anyone to see her face or what she was thinking. As she looked up, a smile, not so genuine, crept across her face. As we finished singing, Adriana thanked everyone, closed her eyes for a few seconds, and blew out her candle. I wondered what she wished for--for her mother to be present? For a certain gift? For family reunification?

Sofia was helping one of the tias pass out cake, and she handed the first piece to her little sister. As she placed the small plate on the table, she leaned down and whispered, barely audible, in her sister's ear, "Happy Birthday, little sister. I love you so much." Before turning around, she kissed Adriana's cheek. A very big, very genuine smile appeared on the new teenager's face.

This moment was so tender, so sweet, so emotional, and neither girl knew anyone was watching. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought about how much love they share, and how Sofia has been forced into a motherly role at such a young age. But, what Sofia and Adriana share is something so special, so raw, so tender.

This is just one, very small moment , but during my two years in Cochabamba, I have witnessed moments between these girls there were so real, so pure, so genuine...so tender.

"Is That Me, Tia?"

Doing the life books with the girls has been the highlight of my month, and maybe even the highlight of my time here. It is so wonderful to see them smile and laugh, and reminisce about the past. Many of the girls are plagued and haunted by past trauma, including violence, abuse, neglect, and abandonment. But, to see them smiling, remembering joyful memories makes my heart happy.

Many of the girls, especially the younger ones, struggle with the idea of having their own things. Living in a home, the reality is most everything is shared--school supplies, food, some clothes, toys, and movies. So, to have a book that they themselves have individually made and to have it to cherish and keep forever is something incredible, a very new feeling for them.

Last weekend, I printed tons and tons of photos form when the girls were much younger. Many of them have changed and matured so much, and have blossomed into beautiful young women. But, seeing them as you girls was so fun. We sat and went through each photo, and the girls recounted stories and shared about their first experiences in the home. Although looking at the pictures and watching the girls create these special books that hold their memories is an incredibly amazing experince for me, it was just as incredible to hear them talking about their arrivals at the home, their impressions, their memories. I felt as if I was let into a whole new world, and have reached a new level of trust.

One of the girls, who is now 7, entered the home about five years ago when she was three. Prior to entering Corazon del Pastor, she and her sisters suffered severe physical and psychological abuse, something that still haunts them. I was sitting with her, and she turned to me confused. She asked, "Is that me, Tia?" I looked at the photo and it definitely was her. I said, "Yup, that's you as a tiny girl." It was extremely weird to me that she didn't recognize herself as baby. But, I realized these kids have no pictures from younger years--no photos in the bath tub, riding a bike for the first time, eating solid food for the first time, taking their first steps... This is sad, and makes me realize, again, just how lucky I am to have parents who took millions of pictures of me since I was born.

This project has made me realize that if I had one wish, I would change the pasts of all the kids. I would ensure they had parents who showered them with love and kindness, hugs and kisses. I would make sure they had wonderful memories, which were captured in photos and videos. I would want them to be able to look back at their childhoods fondly and with joy in their hearts. I only hope these books give them a certain peace about their lives, and help them realize that being a "home child" has it's benefits--more hugs, more kisses, and more love from the tias and their "sisters."


Victoria showing off her life book. Although she is young, Victoria has really gotten into the project.


Karina excited to start and thinking about how to display her photos.


Three of the youngest girls working on a page for their books.


Raeka showing some of her photos. She was overly excited about her baby pictures!


Olivia looking through her photos with a smile on her face. She entered the home at a young age also, and was shocked at how little she was five years ago.

"Who is This?"

As my time here comes to a close, the days spent with the children of NCV make me realize how hard it will be to leave.

Yesterday, I worked at the girls' home for over 12 hours. But, the hours and the time didn't matter. Only the memories and the fun, the hugs and the laughs.

We started the day by working in small groups doing their life books. Thanks to Becky and Mark Teiwes, former NCV volunteers, each girl has a life book that she can decorate, put photos, and reminisce. Living a life away from family is hard, and I can't even imagine what these girls feel. But, having a personal place to paste photos and glue down memories makes a difficult situation more bearable. The girls had a blast, and it was obvious that each photo had significance and memories. It was so beautiful to sit and watch as smiles crept over their faces as they slowly looked through their pile of pictures, and as the sat back and admired the pages of photos, stickers, and decorations.

After dinner, as we were all washing and drying dishes, cleaning the dining room and organizing clothes, the phone rang. I answered, "Buenas Noches." And a girl's voice answered back, "Buenas Noches, this is Camila." I was shocked and confused, because the only Camila I knew returned to her family about a year ago. "Who is This?," I asked again just to be sure and clear up my uncertainty. The girl on the other end quickly answered, "It's Camila. Is this Tia Megan?" Then I knew, it was her. This absolutely made my night! When Camila was living in the home, we were very close, and I had a very difficult time when she left. Her return to her family came as a surprise--we found out about 3 hours before it all happened. As we quickly planned a goodbye party for her, the feelings of sadness and complete shock were palpable. Having to say a rushed goodbye, and giving her a final hug and kiss still weigh heavily on my heart. Working so closely with these girls, you create a special bond. And, it's extremely difficult to say goodbye, knowing you may never see them again. So, to hear her voice, and be able to talk was incredible. I am hoping to head to her city before I return to the States to see her one last time, and to bring photos, letters, and cards, and give her one last hug.

And, to finish off a wonderful night, we had a Bingo tournament. To make it more interesting, the grand prizes, which the girls were unaware of, were Justin Beiber and Katy Perry posters, along with some sweets. They had a blast, but I had more fun watching them and listening to them laugh and get excited!

These are the days that make me realize leaving Cochabamba will be much harder than expected. Since being here, I have 24 beautiful sister, and 10 amazing brothers who will be missed every moment. But, I will hold them in my heart. Forever.

"She's Just Sick."

I like to share stories and little moments from my time in Bolivia on here.
The kids of Ninos con Valor have brought so much happiness and joy to my life. But, many of their stories are full of heart break and sadness.

One of our youngest girls in Corazon del Pastor has had a rough life. She's 5, and although she was young when she lived with her parents, she has been greatly affected by the maltreatment that surrounded her for the first part of her life. It all started when she was a baby. Her mother has a history of mental issues. And, this little girl and her siblings have suffered mental, emotional, and physical abuse at the hands of their mother. The young girl still has physical scars that serve as reminders of her traumatizing past. However, despite the violence and trauma that have plagued her life, she is full of smiles and laughs, happiness and kindness, love and affection.

One day, we were sharing scars and the stories behind them. She rolls up her pant leg, and shows the fairly large scar on the inside of her ankle. She comes close, and says, "Tia, my mom did this," still pointing to the scar, the reminder. She comes even closer, and says, "But, she's not bad. She's just sick." This caught me off guard, and tears began to form in my eyes. A 5 year old stated something so profound, so beautiful. Something many of us in our 20s, 30s, 40s, and 50s could never say, or understand.
I pulled her close, and whispered, "You are right. She's not bad." As she sat down in my lap, she said so softly, barely audible, "Ya, Tia, she just needs help. She's not bad."

This happened last week, and has stayed with me, hanging close to my heart since. This moment spent with this very wise, very loving 5-year-old, brought to mind words I have posted on here before: "A scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived," wrote Chris Cleave in his book Little Bee.

I thank her for this moment of pure, untainted love and forgiveness. As I struggle to let go of bitterness and anger, she has learned to forgive her mother, who hurt her more than anyone, even leaving scars.

Hardened.

"Life on this island has hardened me, or let's say that it has made me more realistic."
--Island Beneath the Sea, Isabel Allende


Life in Bolivia has definitely hardened me, or to say, made me more realistic. Realistic about life. About the world.

Seeing the everyday struggles of people has not numbed me or broken me, but has made me realize the complete and utter inequality and injustice in the world. Not that this is not apparent in the United States, but here in the poorest country in South America, economic struggles, lack of social programs, an extremely high infant mortality rate, an underdeveloped educational system, a high rate of abuse, shacks and squatters, extreme poverty, defeat, and sadness seem to inundate life.

From the windows of buses and trufis (Type of public transportation), the amount of people trying to make a living selling candies and tissues, locks and brooms is alarming. And, even more alarming, is the amount of street kids who have run away from appalling situations of abuse, neglect, abandonment, and not being wanted. They live under bridges and in canals, washing windows and begging to get money for food and glue, the drug that calms their hunger and numbs their feelings. Everyone looks at them as the scum of society, "the invisibles." There are also the cancha workers (Those who work in the big market) who can sit all day selling clothes and shoes, fruits and vegetables, housewares and decorations, artesian goods and pets, etc. only to make a dollar or two per day. This will not go far when there are kids to feed, rent to pay, and other daily expenses.

In the two homes where I work, the stories are no different--abuse, neglect, abandonment, drug and alcohol abuse, extreme poverty, and the list goes on. Although the children are now in a place where they receive love and attention, affection and proper nutrition, an education and opportunities they would have never had, many of them have struggled, have fought, and are overcoming. Some are still grappling with stigma of being "Hogar Kids." But, many have realized they are truly lucky to have people who care for them, and will give them the love and opportunities they deserve. Despite this, many are still fighting demons and nightmares from the past, but are working towards a stable, healthy future. For this reason, these kids are my heroes. To have seen such violence, hate, discrimination, and sadness, they are so loving and caring--it truly is a beautiful thing.

So, I definitely have been hardened, or have become more realistic about life while in Bolivia. But, I don't see that as such a bad thing...

Photos from Mizque, Quebras, and Carnaval

Another one of the Quebras kids.


She was a very interesting kid. She smiled rarely, and has these very wise eyes.


We played parachute games with the kids. They were very excited and really got into the game.


Another girl from Quebras, who was very shy.


Arriving at the small community. The teacher at the wawawasi, which means baby home in Quechua, explained that many in the community have migrated. So, majority of the people who live there are small children, young adults, and elderly.


Riding in style--in the back of a garbage truck throwing water balloons and shooting our water guns at people and cars! It was so much fun!


Sofia and I walking down to the river in Mizque. One of the best moments of the trip--sitting in the river, watching the girls laugh and play.


One of the kids from Quebras, a new community we visited outside of the town. So beautiful, but such sadness in the eyes.


Another little cutie from Quebras.


He was extremely cute, and very friendly. He kept talking to me in Quechua, and sadly, I had no idea what he was saying. (I need to learn Quechua so I can communicate with the people from these communities.)


Us figuring out how to cross the very full, rushing river up to the Incan ruins.


The drive to Mizque is absolutely gorgeous!

Carnaval and Mizque Adventures!

It’s busy here in Cochabamba—we have a team from the Embassy Church in Waterloo, Canada; it’s Carnaval, a huge, fun celebration; and life is still bringing surprises and stress. Hopefully, I will officially be done with the apartment stress this week or early next week, which will be a huge relief. But, despite all the drama, Carnaval and an amazing trip to Mizque took my mind off everything.

Carnaval, which is a huge celebration and holiday in Bolivia, was an absolute blast. Last Saturday, we celebrated with the girls. The team and I were ambushed with water jugs, water balloons, and buckets of water. Despite the extreme wetness, it was so much fun! Even the little ones got involved.

Sunday we left for Mizque super early. Although I have been to Mizque and a few of the communities before, I have never been during Carnaval, which was a completely different experience, nor have I made the trip with some of the girls, which made it even better. Before arriving in Mizque, we stopped at Inkallajta, the Incan ruins in the Cochabmba region. It was the first time the girls had seen the ruins and learned the history.

Just getting to the ruins, however, was quite an adventure! We drove up in taxis, but because of all the recent rain that has filled the rivers, we couldn’t pass in the cars. So, some brave ones scaled tree trunks to the other side, and others of us crossed the rushing, very full river. It was definitely an experience I will always remember! Once we hiked up to the ruins, it was absolutely beautiful—blue skies, huge clouds, and vivid colors! We visited this beautiful waterfall, which a few of the girls climbed right into. They truly are quite the adventurers!

After the ruins, we were Mizque bound, and arrived just in time for dinner. After dinner, we played Cacho, a Bolivia dice game. Cacho is a drinking game, but because the girls were present, it turned into a whole new game of acting out animals and people.

We were up early the next morning to head to a new community, Quebras, about an hour outside of the town. But, before heading off, we armed ourselves with water guns, water balloons, and buckets of water since we were making the drive in the back of a garbage truck. Honestly, it was one of the most fun things I have ever done—hanging out of a garbage truck screaming, throwing water balloons, and shooting water at people and cars.

Once we arrived in Quebras, we quickly got to work. They kids from the wawawasi, which means baby home in Quechua, danced and sang for us. The kids in the communities we visit are absolutely beautiful. It does make me sad, however, that so many of the little ones have such sadness and defeat in their eyes—something no kid should know of at such a young age. After the presentation, we played games with them, painted their faces, and passed out the items we brought to outfit the wawawasi. The community was very thankful, and invited us to eat and enjoy time with them.

The ride back to Mizque was full of water balloons and laughter. We ate lunch, and then headed to the river to enjoy ice cream and time in the water. It was a little rougher than it appeared, but definitely wonderful to be in the water and playing with the girls. After a shower, we spent our free time together talking and chatting. But, this quickly turned into a dance competition—boys vs. girls. I haven’t laughed so hard in a long time! It really is wonderful to see that you can use more than words to communicate. Although the girls and the team members don’t speak the same languages, they still were able to laugh and enjoy each other.

Tuesday, after breakfast and some free time in Mizque, we headed back to Cochabamba. Once back in the city, I took the older girls out to participate in the city-wide water fights. We had a blast, and definitely came home sopping wet.

I will miss the time spent with the girls the most. Although I love the boys and cherish the days I spend with them, I have a very different relationship with the girls. I have gotten to know many of them on a deep level, and have helped some of the older ones with boy troubles and “growing pains.” It really makes me sad to leave behind such wonderful girls, who have become my little sisters, my friends.

Another great trip to Mizque, especially because of the girls’ presence and company, and the wonderful visit to the community. These trips to small, extremely poor communities really open my eyes and make me thankful for all the blessings in my life. Celebrations and festivities like Carnaval make me realize how lucky I am to live in another country learning and living a new culture. But, it also makes me sad knowing I will not be here next year to throw water balloons from a garbage truck or run around the city with the girls laughing. Looking at the positive side, I at least have these wonderful memories, and can carry them with me forever.

Whirlwind.

Since Christmas, I feel like time has flown by and everything, including yesterday, is just memories--scattered on the ground and remembered through photos and distant memories. I want to remember everything that has happened, but it seems so far out of reach and something that can only be recalled in dreams. But, remembering is always a better option than letting the happiness and joy, sadness and melancholy of each moment pass us by, brush our skin and soar away.

Christmas was spent here in Bolivia with my parents and, of course, the kids. Preparing for the celebration was fun, as my parents and I ventured to the Cancha to find gifts for the homes. This was one of my favorite memories, and is the epitome of the holiday—giving to others, and enjoying it.

My other favorite memory was watching the kids open their presents. There is nothing like seeing the wonder, amazement, and excitement on their faces as they pull out dolls and trucks, new clothes and games! I never thought I would enjoy watching people open presents more than opening gifts myself.

Before heading home, we stopped in La Paz for a visit. La Paz, the capital, which is located in a bowl surrounded by magical mountains, is definitely one of my most favorite places. The capital city holds some indescribable magic, allure, and brilliance, and I was excited to share this with my parents.

Once back on U.S. soil, I got to see some of my best friends—definitely a highlight of being home. Without the support of my family and friends, I definitely wouldn’t be where I am today. But, soon we were headed to Kaiser emergency room because something was seriously wrong with my dad. This was very difficult because it was obvious that during our time in Bolivia, he was struggling and not well. After hours and hours in the ER, a specialist discovered he had been given the wrong type of insulin by the Kaiser pharmacy. This was definitely a low point of my time at home, and made it even harder to board the plane on January 24th back to Cochabamba.

Despite my dad’s health scare, my month at home was full of adventure, love, and wonderful memories. While enjoying beautiful scenery with my parents and enjoying a night of fun with my friends, I begged and willed time to stop, or at least slow down. It only, however, seemed to speed up.

Sooner than expected and…wanted, it was January 24th and time to return to Bolivia. It is difficult to explain and even harder to understand, but I feel like my heart is torn between a place I absolutely love—where I grew up, where my family and friends are, and where I have always called home—and a place where I have sisters and brothers, wonderful memories, a place that has helped and allowed me to grow and mature, and a place I have become attached to. I am torn between these two worlds, and wishing I was able to be in both simultaneously.

Since being back, everything has been hectic and chaotic. But, the best part has been seeing the kids and spending time with them. Once arriving, it has been non-stop work and moving and cleaning my apartment. It has been stressful trying to balance both, but we have to do what we have to do, despite the pressure and stress.

As of now, despite the chaos, I am trying to enjoy my time with the kids, and prepare myself for my journey back to the States this summer. It is already a daunting thought as I think about leaving this life and the kids that I have come to love and cherish in about 4 months. But, part of me is looking forward to a new journey and a new adventure.