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.