Christmas is coming!

There's a children's home we work closely with down here called Mision Timoteo.  Two of our guys have sisters who live there.  If you have a moment, take a look at the next post below this one for a bit more information about them. 

At any rate, Mision Timoteo is a really great home, but like most children's homes down here, they exist on very little money.  There's usually nothing left over for anything "special".  Like Christmas. 

As I wrote below, we found out this week that they had no plans for anything extra for Christmas.  No Christmas trees or decorations or Christmas supper...nothing. 

I'm not saying that Christmas is only about these things...of course it's not.  But when you're a little kid and the whole world is decorating and wrapping presents and getting ready...and once again you have nothing...it's tough.

So we decided we should try to do at least a little something to help.  Maribel and I and Yimy went shopping in the market today for Christmas trees and lights and decorations for each of the houses.  It was a very good time!  I tend to get caught up in the moment and walk away with more than I'd planned on...but that's half the fun...  =)

Anyhow...I thought I'd share a few pictures of our morning...

Buying decorations...

Yimy demonstrating what he usually looks like in a picture...

Organizing everything at the home...

You buy that tinsle stuff by the metre here...

One of the kids with his house's pile of decorations...

The green thing in the bag is the tree.

One of the houses...

Maribel, Yimy and one of the kids...

One of the girls made a Christmas tree for their house...

I thought it was pretty creative!

Going house to house...

Another of our young friends...

The last of the houses...

All in all, a great way to kick off the Christmas season!  The kids were really excited.  We're hoping to go back on Christmas Eve (which is when Bolivians celebrate Christmas) and cook a big Christmas supper for everyone.  We'll see how those plans turn out.  If you'd like more information on how you can be a part of that...just keep reading the next post.  =)

Keep checking back here and I'll post some pictures of our decorating attempts in the house.  To tide you over until then...

I call it "Scariest Christmas Elf EVER!"

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My Christmas Update Letter...

Merry Christmas! Or Felz Navidad as we say here in South America. It’s hard to believe that Christmas is so close. To be honest, it’s always a bit tough for me to get into the Christmas spirit when most days the temperature hovers between 35 and 40 C and I’m surrounded by palm trees. Well…maybe not surrounded exactly. But I can see at least one from where I sit.

Yes, yes…I know…poor me. But seriously, as a Saskatchewan farm boy, it feels like there should be snow and wind and biting cold for me to really feel like Christmas has arrived. Our Christmas decorations for the house are still only half finished because every time I think about it, it feels like its July and I still have lots of time left.

One Christmassy thing we do have here in Bolivia though, are those musical Christmas tree lights. Which everyone loves…and which everyone turns up as loud as they go. As you walk through the plaza or really any store or restaurant in the city, every tree/shelf/window/pillar is singing a different squeaky, nasally rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas!” It makes me want to bang my head against the nearest hard surface until it just all goes away. Roberto was quite annoyed that the lights I bought for the house didn’t come with that particular musical ability. I, on the other hand, paid extra for lights that didn’t have a little sound box attached.

Anyhow, all that as it may be, Christmas is closing in on us here in Bolivia, just as it is in Canada. And being who I am (mixed with the aforementioned sense that it’s summertime and Christmas is still six months away), I didn’t sit down to write this letter until…wow…the 14th of December. Way to be on top of things Ken…

The reason I’m writing is that I wanted to let you all know of a couple things we have planned for Christmas and how you could be involved if you’d like.

First of all, over the past months, we’ve been building a great relationship with one of the children’s homes here in Santa Cruz. It’s the home where Andres and Jose Manuel’s younger sisters live (two of the guys who live here). There are thirty five kids there, ranging in age from about four or five to seventeen.

It’s a great place, but like most homes here, they survive on the bare minimum. There isn’t a lot of money (if any) for extras. I found out the other day that the home isn’t able to do anything special for Christmas. No Christmas supper (which we celebrate here on Dec. 24th) or decorations or anything.

Maribel (who works for us) and I decided that we should do something about that. So tomorrow we’re off to buy Christmas trees and decorations for each of the houses (there are five houses where a mixture of older and younger kids live with an “Aunt” together as a family). As well, the guys and I and Maribel hope to be able to cook a big Christmas supper for the kids on Christmas Eve.

Then on Friday I’ll start what seems to have become a Christmas tradition for me…Christmas shopping the week before Christmas. =) The guys here are in serious need of shoes this year, so I think that’s going to be the main gift they get (if you read this and you know any of the guys….just keep that to yourself!). As well, they’ll probably get a t-shirt and some stocking gifts.

With the extra guys who will be celebrating Christmas with us (guys we know who don’t have family to celebrate with), I’ll be shopping for nearly twenty guys this year. Yea…shoot me now. =) If you think the malls back home are crowded, you should try some of our markets. There are times when you’re literally pressed up against people on all sides and you just kind of go where the crowd goes. =) But in all honestly, it’s pretty fun…mostly.

As you all know (having spent the past few weeks shopping for your own family and friends) all of this takes money. I was kind of laughing with Andres tonight that sometimes I go ahead with ideas because it’s the right thing to do…even when I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to fund those ideas. But helping this children’s home feels like the right thing to do. So…we’re going ahead with that.

As well, Christmas is an important time for us as a family here at the house. It’s an opportunity to show some of the guys we work with, that we care about them and want to encourage them. Every year we have at least one guy who’s never received a personal gift for Christmas. And the laughter and excitement that comes from my guys as well on Christmas morning is a lot of fun too!

So if you’re interested in being a part of our Christmas down here and you’d like to make a donation towards helping us out that would be greatly appreciated! The easiest thing would be to contact my mission, International Teams, directly at 1-800-465-7601. You can also go online (there’s a link to the left of this post that takes you directly there).

Thanks so much for taking the time to read this and consider being a part of our Christmas. Over the next few weeks, I’ll be posting pictures and stories of our Christmas here so check it out if you have time.

Thanks again everyone! Have a wonderful, snow-filled and joyful celebration of Christ’s birth!

As will we…without the being filled with snow part.

Oh…and my parents are here in 13 days!

Feliz Navidad!

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Ken 1 - Bolivia 0

As I'm sure I've mentioned many times before...I love the life that comes with living in a foreign country.  A simple drive to the supermarket can turn into some crazy adventure.  Or in this case a simple drive to some pretty cool waterfalls on a little dirt trail an hour back into the jungle.

Okay...maybe the supermarket/waterfall-jungle comparison wasn't exactly even.

Be that as it may, what started out as a relaxing day in the sun turned out to have a few interesting twists in it.

But then, doesn't it always?

A friend from church volunteers at a children's home about an hour out of the city.  She called me Monday evening to ask if I was free the next day to drive the kids and a few staff members out to some waterfalls we know (I've written about them before). 

Let's see...hang around the city in 40 C weather or go spend the day playing in the water?  Wow...decisions are hard!  That one took at least three and a half seconds to figure out.

So bright and early we all piled into my truck (twenty one of us) and headed off into the jungle. 

Franco's first ride in a truck...

One of the little guys (Franco) had never ridden in a truck before.  He was facinated with everything.  He had his nose right down in the air vents and he asked me what they were.  So I reached over and turned the air conditioning full blast.  Poor Franco...  The look on his face was awesome though.  You know...it's the little things that keep you entertained...  =)

The waterfalls...

We had a great day at the falls.  I had a good time schooling a group of Bolivian teenagers by showing them that old, gringo guys can jump off cliffs where Bolivian teenage guys fear to tread.  And also the ladies from the home grilled some chicken that made you think you'd died and gone to heaven.  So...yea...good day.

The kids playing in the water...

As I sat there in the sun in my Superstore foldy chair, I thought, "I really enjoy my life.  Do what you will Bolivia...I'm winning!" 

Huh...I should know by now...never taunt a country.

Eventually the day began to wind down and so we all piled into my truck for the ride home.  Along the way we had to stop to let a spider cross the road.  No kidding...we saw it from about fifty feet back.  It was bigger than my hand.  Probably about the size of a small dinner plate.  And hairy.  And it seemed to have more legs than normal. 

I got out to take a picture with one of the staff member's camera.  By now it was in the longer grass alongside the road, so I tapped my sandled foot near it's backside to get it moving to where I could take a better picture. 

As a side note...until that moment the spider had been crawling across the road at a reasonably slow rate.  There had been no indication it could move any faster than it already was.  So...putting my bare foot near it's scary, hairy legs didn't seem like that big of a deal.  Seriously.

So...disclaimer aside...the moment I tapped my foot, the big, scary spider jumped and went shooting off through the grass.  Scared the flipping whits right out of me.  I suddenly realized, "That thing could have run up my leg and bitten me on the face before I even knew what was happening!" 

My respect for nature was once again renewed.  Well, for sure at least until next week...

The kids wanted to catch it and sell it (which you can actually do...people put big bugs under glass and sell them to tourists).  But I figured live and let live was a better philosopy. 

Once we got passed the big spider, we dropped the kids off at their home and headed back into the city.  Only to be stopped a few miles later by a big line of trucks.  I didn't realize what was happening at first.  I thought the trucks were just parked along the highway waiting to get into a grain terminal that was nearby.  But then one of the ladies said, "Oh, oh...bloqueo!" 

Blockade.

I've mentioned this before, but for those of you who might not know...everytime someone...anyone...is annoyed about something...anything...they block a road.  It doesn't really matter why.  They just dump a pile of dirt in the middle of the road and toss a few burning tires into the mix and they figure they're making a political statement. 

And the crazy thing is, people here respect it.  Everyone's just like, "Oh well...another blockade..."  It's just a part of life...

So we bumped and bounced as I u-turned over the centre boulevard and we headed back the way we came.  We discussed everyone walking across the blockade and catching a bus on the otherside while I waited in my truck for the blockade to come down.  People can walk across the blockades...you just can't drive past them.  But someone commented that I could be waiting a couple of days depending on how serious the blockade people were.  Yea...toss that idea.

Then someone suggested we follow the line of cars and see if someone knew a route around the blockade.  Since it seemed we had nothing else to lose...away we went.

Line of cars behind us...

Eventually we were way out in the middle of nowhere where no one ever goes...along with about a hundred other cars.  It was pretty funny actually.  Every little road or two lane track had a row of cars randomly trying to find a way past the blockade back to the main road.

Toll booth...

These two enterprising gentlemen were charging people to use their gate.  I got mocked my the people in my truck 'cause I overpaid.  How was I supposed to know the going rate for bribing some random guy to let us through his gate to get out of his cow pasture?

Stalled...

Eventually the line of vehicles came to a stop and I started to worry.  We were literally in the middle of nowhere and if there was no way to go on, we would be hours trying to turn around and go back the way we came. 

The line of cars and trucks stretched out for miles in both directions.  We were pretty much stuck.

But not to fear!  According to the truck in front of us, we were in a "Convoy Zone".  And if I learned nothing from 80's trucker movies, I learned that convoy's are never defeated!

Although...truth be told...this convoy didn't seem to be rolling the way I'd always imagined convoys rolled. 

Eventually, after driving through a ditch and another field...we were moving once again and my faith was renewed...

There were a couple of confusing traffic moments.  Afterall...who has the right of way in a cow pasture?

But eventually we made it through.  And after only two hours of driving through some of the most scenic backroad pastureland Santa Cruz has to offer...we were once again on the main highway and past the blockade.

That makes the score:

Ken - 1
Bolivian - 0

Well...Ken - 2 if you count not getting killed by a giant spider.
 

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Ken's Random Life...

Random funny moments from the past couple of weeks:

Riding the bus with Yimy for 12 hours to get to Cochabamba only to find out my truck still wasn't ready after being at the autobody place for nearly five months. 

Wait...that's not really that funny.  Uh...the 12 hour ride back to Santa Cruz?  Not that funny either.  Fighting with the lady in the seat in front of us over the use of her window...kind of funny.  Lots of Bolivians don't like breezes.  They think it will give them some unidentified illness.  It was like a freaking sauna on the bus.  So everytime the lady in front of us fell asleep I made Yimy push her window open a couple of inches (our seats didn't have a window that opened).  Then when she woke up she'd close it again.  Then she'd fall asleep and we'd open it.  That went on for...well, like I said, 12 hours.  There wasn't much else to do.

Let's see...what else?  I drove one of the guys out to his house this afternoon and was running on fumes by the time I got there.  I dropped him off and drove straight to the nearest gas station.  And...they were out of gas.  Of course they were.  And the only other gas station in town?  Out of gas too. 

I was starting to worry a bit, but then I got a tip on a lady who sold gas out of a barrel.  It took awhile to find her, but I eventually tracked her down and bought two Coke bottles worth of gas.  I didn't want to put too much in the truck 'cause you never know how clean gas you buy by the bottle is. 

Then I got in my truck and started back to the city.  I kept waiting for the fuel needle to move but it really didn't.  And then I started wondering if four litres of gas is really that much and if I had enough to get back to civilization where I could find another gas station.  I tried to do the math in my head on how many kilometres I could go on four litres of gas but then decided that math is hard.  I figured either I had enough or I didn't.  No sense worrying about it.  So I turned the radio on.  That pretty much sums up my philosophy on life.

I made it.

Let's see...anything else?  So far this has been kind of weak on the funny.  Not sure if this is amusing to anyone else or not, but Yimy and I had a rousing round of Punch Buggy up in Cochabamba.  If you're unfamiliar (and I don't know how that's possible) it's a game where you punch someone everytime you see a Volkswagon bug.  We play it a lot here in Santa Cruz. 

Cochabamba, however, is a whole other ball game.  There are tons (and I do mean tons!) of bugs.  At the end of day one I beat Yimy 78 - 56.  It was a glorious victory but I could barely move my arm the next day and we both had bruises.  We start out just kind of tapping each other, but then the competition and tension grows and by the end we're pretty much wailing on each other.  It makes random people in the street look at us funny.  But it's fun.  And I won, so...you know...

Maybe I should have just called this random news instead of random funny stuff...

In random news, my friend Deb is here with her family for a couple of weeks on a family missions trip.  It's been great having them here.  It's always fun to show people around and introduce them to my life down here.  So far I've mostly just dragged them around to wherever I needed to go, but tomorrow we'll get a little more serious and start working. 

We did visit a home for sick children on Saturday afternoon, which was a lot of fun.  It's a new place for me and a great ministry to connect with.  It's run by an American couple with huge hearts.  I'm sure we'll be spending more time there.

One last story and then I'll go.  As I was driving to pick up the team on Saturday, I saw a group of kids playing in the street.  I just assumed they were playing soccer like every other group of kids in Bolivia.  Then as I got closer I suddenly realized they were playing ROAD HOCKEY!  I couldn't believe it. 

When one of the kids saw me, he yelled, "CAR!" in Spanish and two of the guys grabbed the nets and they all moved to the side of the street.  It was the weirdest Canada meets Bolivia moment I've ever had.  I'm still shaking my head....

Anyhow...that's life.  It's late here and that'll be my excuse as to why this is as random and kind of dumb.  =)  But I made myself laugh so I guess that's good enough. 

Thanks for praying for us everyone! 

Oh yea...and enjoy the snow.  I figure I had to say that...first big snow of the season and all that. 

Here?  34 C in the sunshine baby. 

And so it begins...
     

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Dreams and such...

This post is one of those, "This is my blog and I can write what I want..." posts.  It really has nothing to do with anything.

And on that note...

It is a very rare night when I remember dreaming anything.  I'm sure I do dream...I think everyone does.  But when I wake up in the morning, ninety nine percent of the time there's not even a whiff of what happened in my head during the night.

Which is what makes Tuesday night's dream stand out.  It was one of those crystal clear, I remember every moment, kind of dreams.  It was fairly long, as dreams go...and every detail was stuck in my head the next morning.

The dream was about me, my mom and my two younger brother, living in a small apartment.  My brothers and I were much younger (my youngest brother was still in diapers).  My mom was raising us as a single mom.  As in most after-school specials, there was no mention of where dad was. 

Mom had that tired, slightly angry at life attitude that most single moms in after-school specials have.  She'd come home kind of grumpy every evening after work and cook us supper.  As the oldest, I was in charge of the two younger ones and had to help get them ready for bed after we ate.  Of course I could never quite do it right, and mom, in her weary of life state, was always frustrated with us.

As a side note, it really was my mom in the dream.  She looked exactly like she did in a old picture we have of her from the sixties...young, pretty...big poofy hair. 

Anyhow, one day through a serious of events while mom was at work, we managed to put a hole in one of her favourite towels and wreck the kitchen blinds.  I have to admit I'm not totally clear on how we wrecked the blinds, but there was a lot of detail in the dream about that towel.

We tried to fix everything, and failing that...hide the damage.  That part of the dream was probably based on reality.  I seem to remember an episode in my childhood of my brothers and I playing baseball in the living room one afternoon after school, when my parents were away.  My brother hit an excellent line drive and put the ball right through the glass shade of one of my mom's favourite lamps.  It left a perfectly circular hole.  So my brother just turned the lamp so the hole was facing the back and hoped for the best.  He was a middle child and not that bright.  Needless to say it didn't work for very long...mom and dad found out and we were roundly punished

Maybe that story was in the back of my head in this dream, because when mom got home we (well...me) confessed to what we had done, rather than try to lie about it.  Our honesty broke through mom's hardened exterior and she was touched by our confession.  She cried...we cried...and we all had a big, group hug.  Then mom, with her three sons by her side, proceeded to fix the blind using the ingenuity that every after-school special mom has.

It was all very touching and sweet.  Like I said...it played out just like every after-school TV special ever. 

Well...except maybe for the part about the cartoon alien who seemed to be living on our dining room floor.  He was there the whole time...we just didn't pay him much attention.  He had a big head and really stretchy skin and didn't say much.  He had a little card that he'd pull out every once in awhile that said, "Instructions.  If you feel uncomfortable wait for an opportunity to speak with the humans." 

After the moving and heart-felt moment with the towel and kitchen blind, mom and I were sitting at the table talking while my two little brothers and the alien slept on the floor by our feet.  My mom reached out with her foot and slid my little, sleeping brother across the floor until his diaper was up against the alien's face.  When the alien woke up he quickly got out his card and sat quietly, waiting for an opportunity to talk to my little brother.

And that's when I woke up. 

You know...after all the many, many profound dreams I'm sure I've had that I can't remember...this is the one that super-glued to my brain.  Why is that? 

That was, by the way, a rhetorical question.  No need to respond....

I'm sure tomorrow there will be something here that has something to do with...well, something.
  

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Another run in with the police and my friend Jedi...

Sunday night I was heading back to the house after driving a couple of guys home who were visiting us over the weekend (more on that in a minute) and I pulled out and passed a motorbike.  Only as I pulled up beside them did I realize they were police officers.

I casually passed them...didn't make eye contact...which is what I do whenever I pass the police...and then prayed (uh...chanted...)...

"Please don't pull me over...please don't pull me over..."

We drove on for a couple of blocks and then they pulled up beside me....and my heart skipped a beat...and then they passed me by to pull over the guy in front of me.  I couldn't believe it.  That NEVER happens.  Usually they see my truck and dollar signs start flashing in their eyes and they can hardly manage to maintain their glee and elation as they wave me to a stop.  But not this time...

I was still revelling in my joy and...well, smugness to be honest, a couple of seconds later when I turned a corner and drove straight into a police checkpoint. 

The timing of it was stunning...

I calmly (on the outside) pulled over and an officer came up to my window.  I greeted him cheerily (on the outside) and he asked for my Driver's License.  I handed him my International License and he just kind of looked blankly at it.  I have a Bolivian License but my card was in my wallet when I lost it last spring (along with my Bolivian Identity Card sadly).  Rather than fight with the transit police to get it replaced, I just got a International License when I was home in Canada.

Without a word, the officer walked over to a parked police truck and soon someone a little higher up the food chain walked back over to my truck.  On the way he checked out my windshield and immediatly asked me where my SOAT sticker was (that's like the registration sticker we put on our license plates back home). 

I pointed to where it was on my window (he hadn't seen it in the dark) and there was a pause and a definite sense of disappointment on his part.  I think he thought he had an easy win. 

He then asked me where the other sticker I was suppose to have was, my "Tercera Placa" (third plate).  It's an ID sticker they came up with a few years ago.  I've never actually gotten it (on the last couple of trucks) and no one has EVER asked for it.  Ironically Yimy and I were just talking about that and he asked me why I didn't have it.  "'Cause no one ever asks for it..." was my reply.

I should learn to keep my big mouth shut.

So I explained that I had just bought the truck (true) and that I'd be sure to get that sticker soon (um...truuue...although "soon" is a kind of a vague word when you think about it.  What's "soon" for me may or may not be "soon" for you).  I went on to explain (and here's where the magic happened) that my friend...dramatic pause...the Director of Interpol in the city (who I do actually know and have his name and number in my phone)...another dramatic pause...would, I was sure, be happy to help me with the process.

My officer friend hesitated and then handed me back my license and said, "That would be best." and then waved me on my way.

It was awesome.  I get so few wins that one needs to savour them...

The two young guys (brothers) I was taking home are two guys we know from the boy's home where I used to work.  I haven't seen them in (we figured out) nearly five years.  That would have made Yeddy around 13 and his brother 10 at the time.  Yeddy was in one of my Bible Study groups and was also one of the guys who I took camping back in the day (when none of the guys had ever seen a tent or cooked hot dogs before). 

We used to call Yeddy, "Jedi" because it's close to how his name sounds in Spanish.  My friend Kara and I used to yell at him during soccer games...

"Use the force Jedi!"  "Jedi!  Use your powers!"

It quite entertained us...

It was interesting to talk to them.  It came out fairly quickly that they're having problems at home living with their mom.  That seems to happen a lot with the guys I talk to.  Most of them didn't spend much time in their houses growing up and are now supposed to have good relationships with whatever parent is around. 

We're going to get together a little later this week to talk some more about what's been happening.  So if you have a moment, please pray for that.  The guys came to our house on Saturday for supper and youth group, and then came back for church on Sunday morning.  I think they were enjoying seeing everyone and hanging out. 

It was great to see them.  Jedi hasn't changed at all really...his "little" brother Denar on the other hand...

That's Jedi on the left...

And that's Denar on the right...

And yea...Jedi and Denar Sunday night...

And there you go...that was my day...

PS  My one last funny moment...I woke up in the middle of the night and glanced over at my laptop on my desk that was still on.  I freaked out 'cause there were weird, black lines all over the screen.  I jumped up to see what was wrong and realized that I'd been looking at the screen through the metal wire cover of my fan that was six inches from my face....

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"Los Marchistas..."

UPDATE:  There were clashes between the police and the protesters all night last night.  The police were once again firing tear gas into the crowd.  This morning (from what I understand), President Evo backed down and announced that he was suspending construction of the highway. 

He announced something similar once before but construction continued that time.  So I guess we'll see.  Certainly the people have him up against a wall here.  The interesting thing is, this is how Evo came to power in the first place.  He rallied these same people against the sitting president at the time and they blockaded all of La Paz for over a month.  No food or supplies could enter the city, until finally the then president resigned.  Now Evo is in a very similar situation.  It's a bit ironic.  This is the third major demonstration against his policies this year.  Time will tell where this is going. 

But for now, it seems the people are the victors.

On August 15th, a village from northeastern Bolivia began a 600 kilometre march to La Paz, our capital.  Over one thousand men, women and children set out to protest a highway that the Bolivian government was constructing to Brazil, through one of the most ecologically sensitive areas of Bolivia. 

The constitution of Bolivia (written by our current president and his party) guarantees indigenous people groups the right to self determination and the right to decide how their lands should be developed and used.  At the time, this idea was revolutionary in Bolivia where historically these people groups had been largely marginalized and ignored. 

Sadly, that same government has chosen to give those rights with one hand and take them away with the other.  The president and his leadership have decided that this highway is vital to Bolivia (ignoring numerous international ecological groups) and has gone ahead with construction. 

Seeing their rights being violated, this village decided to do something.  They began marching.  What started as a relatively quiet demonstration has electrified the country.  Demonstrations were held in all the major cities of Bolivia in support of these villagers.

Then on September 25th, the government sent 500 police in full riot gear to stop the march.  At dusk, firing tear gas into the midst of the people, the police attempted to haul these peaceful demonstraters away in buses and planes.  As planes attempted to land on a nearby airstrip, other villages came to their support and blocked the planes from landing by occupying the landing area.

Undeterred the march continued, now with even more support.  Food, clothes, tents and other donated supplies began arriving from all over Bolivia.  Members of President Evo's own party resigned and some even joined the march.

Their group, having grown to over 2,000 marchers, arrived yesterday morning in La Paz...where they were met by a crowd of over 500,000 supporters.  Again police tried to stop them from advancing, but were unable to do so.  The currently occupy the plaza in front of the Presidential Palace where they hope to speak to President Evo.  So far he continues to refuse.

I thought I'd add a few pictures to help you understand what's been happening...

The Police...

Continuing to march...

Arrival in La Paz...

It's difficult to know exactly what's going to happen, but there's no doubt of the significance of this moment for Bolivia. It'll be interesting to see what the future holds.  Whether our president will be able to continue undeterred with the construction of this highway, or if he'll respond to the cries of the people who put him in office.

Thanks for your continued prayer for Bolivia.  If you want to read a more detailed (and very interesting) account of what's been happening, take a look at this.

Thanks everyone!

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Life...and it's not that exciting...but there is a picture.

It was an election day here in Bolivia which means they shut the country down.  Until 6 PM you're not allowed to drive anywhere and everything is closed anyhow so even if you could drive there's no where to go.  It's nice actually...it makes for a very relaxing day. 

So...I decided to cook a big roast for Sunday lunch since we were all around.  I went shopping in the market Saturday and found myself a chunck of beef (4 kilos) and some nice big potatoes to cook (the boys always buy these sad, little potatoes.  I'm a Saskatchewan farm boy.  If you're gonna buy a potato...buy a freaking potato.  The ones I bought were huge!  Ten of them filled a shopping bag!  They made me happy.).

Where was I?  Oh yea...the market.  I had a fun time.  It's our big fruit and vegetable market (it's like Walmart for produce).  I don't go there all that often...it's too far away.  But it was fun to check it out and wander around and act like I knew what I was doing (I did actually.  Farm boy...remember?) 

Last night I pulled out our slow cooker to get everything ready, only to discover that somebody broke it.  Insert moment of grumpiness for Ken.  Not all the guys in the house are great with the taking care of things.  Poor Roberto was there with me and had to take the brunt of my unhappiness.  He'll get over it.  At any rate, it meant a quick phone call to mom to find out how one cooks a ten pound roast the old fashioned way.  It's pretty easy as it turns out.  She under estimated the time a little (by an hour and a half...which made for some hungry guys when we eventually did eat), but it was all good.

AND...after all my whining on Facebook last week, tonight I got my Thanksgiving turkey.  My friend Corina's aunt and uncle are here from Canada and they cooked us a big feast.  Seriously...amazing.  I walked into the kitchen and I couldn't believe that there were more than three different things on the counter and non of it had been deep fried. 

My mom'll be happy when she reads this.  The whole family was together on the farm this Thanksgiving (there's a lot of us)...except me.  I made some sad comment about not getting any turkey this year and my sister wrote back, "You just made mom cry."  (I didn't really...).  But she'll be happy for me non-the-less.  She's a good mom and she's happy when her boys get good eats.

The only sad moment today was when I was driving home.  Corina made me a take home pumpkin pie and I had it sitting on the centre console between the seats.  Somehow I thought that was a good idea.  The first corner I went around it slid onto my lap.  Well...it would have if I hadn't caught by pinning it to the console with my elbow.  In the pie. 

On the upside, the pie survived (mostly) and I got to lick my shirt sleeve off all the way home.  So...bonus.

And finally (this is really long for a day when nothing much happened)...the sun came out today.  It's been raining for a week.  Which is weird 'cause this is our dry season.  None of us are complaining mind you.  It's a nice break from the 40 C days of the two weeks before.  I just kept rewashing the clothes in my washing machine every day until the sun came out. 

And that was my day...


The promised picture.

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In response...

I got an interesting comment on my blog last night. It leaned a little towards the snarkier side of things, so I just deleted it. As soon as I did though, I wished that I hadn’t. I wrote a reply there, but as I laid in bed last night, I started thinking more about what the person had written and I decided to respond.

My blog is certainly written for a predominately Christian crowd. Which is fine. But not all my friends are Christians. I’m sure that there are a few people out there who read the blog and just kind of roll their eyes. Which doesn’t really bother me. I get that we come from different places and not everyone is going to agree with or even understand what I write. I’m just throwing my experiences out there for whoever is interested.

What bothered me last night about this person’s comment, wasn’t that it was a bit sarcastic. I’ve written a few sarcastic comments myself. My problem was what this person was implying.

They were commenting on my story of taking my street kid friend to the hospital the other night. Essentially they wrote that maybe I should have shown him a little humanity and not just talked about God. Something along those lines (in all honesty it was late and I don’t really remember their exact words). I suppose it’s because I just dropped him off afterwards and didn’t take him someplace to sleep or whatever and then wrote that only God could change the situation.

Maybe this is partly my fault.  I didn’t provide all the back story about my friendship with this kid. There’s too much there to put into a short blog entry. It would have turned into a novel...even more than normal... =)

I’ve known my friend for about ten years now. I’ve seen him when he’s doing well, and I’ve seen him when he’s a mess. I’ve tried many, many times to help him over the years. I’ve taken him to get help. I’ve rented rooms for him to live in. I’ve given him money...bought him food...been to the doctor with him more times than I can count.

One of the funniest stories was when he contracted an STD (that’s not the funny part). I took him to the AIDS/STD clinic to get him checked out. As I sat there in the waiting room, I looked around and suddenly realized that it was him and me and about forty prostitutes. And everyone was staring at us. And THEN I realized what they were thinking. I probably went ten shades of red and started sweating like I can’t even tell you. I basically announced to everyone and anyone that I was a missionary helping this kid out. It was the first thing out of my mouth every time I had to talk to someone, “Hi, I’m a missionary! And this guy needs some help...”

I once went to a TB clinic with him, thinking we were going to see a doctor. We sat around in a group for an hour playing games with a couple of nurses and then we got a bag of food (rice, pasta...some cooking oil) and then we all went home. I had NO idea what had just happened. I just went with the flow. Turned out he was there for his medication and that was how they got people to show up. Games and food...

So...as I said...I’ve seen this guy through a lot. I’ve watched him play guitar for people (he's a gifted musician) and show compassion to other younger street kids at the home where they were living. I’ve sat with him in hospitals when he was sick and on street corners with him when he was high. I’ve run to the streets in the middle of the night when he’s called and needed help....and I’ve talked and talked and talked to him. About his potential, his future...how destructive this lifestyle is for him...all of it.

And no matter what I do...this young man chooses to return to the streets. No matter how many opportunities he’s given (and he’s been given a lot) he chooses to return to the drugs and the stealing and the hopelessness of the streets. I don’t know why. There have been times when he’s been off the streets for a couple of years or more....clean and healthy. And I’m happy for him. Then I hear that he’s gone back again.

So in the light of all of this...what does it mean to show someone “humanity”? I assume by “humanity” that commenter was meaning compassion and mercy. How do I show compassion and mercy?  How do I show that I care? It’s something I’m confronted with every time I leave the house. Little kids begging on the streets...moms with their babies slung over their backs asking you for a coin...people living under bridges and in sewage canals. I see it every single day.

And I’ve learned that it’s complicated. I give a child a coin and it helps him continue living on the streets for another day where he’ll be drawn deeper and deeper into a lifestyle that will eventually destroy him. But I give him that coin because he’s cute and I feel sorry for him. And maybe I feel better.

I give a young girl a coin because she has a baby in her arms because I feel sorry for her and raising that child by herself must be incredibly difficult. But then when I ask her the name of her baby, she doesn’t know and I realize that it’s not actually hers. It’s been given to her by other adults to help her beg. She’ll never see that coin I just gave her.

My young friend is skinny so I give him money for food...and he buys drugs. So I buy him food and he gets angry when I won’t give him cash. His clothes are dirty so I give him clean clothes and he sells them for drugs. I rent him a room where he can sleep and he just goes back to the streets.

What’s the answer?

I can’t solve all the problems here. I can’t give money to everyone who asks. All that really does is perpetuate the problem. All I do is make it easier for an eight year old to continue to live on the streets or teach a child that begging is the right way to make a living.

As difficult as it is (and it is incredibly difficult) I choose to think long term instead of short term. I volunteer with an organization that is effectively working with street people to provide job training and a support system as they leave their street lives behind. I do what I can to help a couple of children’s homes and a drug rehab home I know of. And I guess the big one would be that I chose to move to South America and open a home for ex-street guys and help them get an education.  =)

All of these organizations are run by Christians, people who believe in the difference God can make.  Interestingly enough, there are very few (if any) non-religious groups here working with street people. It’s predominately an evangelical/Catholic crowd. And believe what you want, I see God moving and working through these groups and individuals. I see God bringing emotional and spiritual healing. I’ve talked to former drug addicts who are now being great dads to their families...former prostitutes who are being great moms to their kids. They’ll attest strongly that it was only with God’s help and God’s strength that they were able to experience that restoration. Every day I see people who’s lives are being transformed.

Okay...so much for this not turning into a novel. Hopefully some of you made it to the end. And I hope that my friend who commented made it to the end of this as well. Hopefully you understand a little more of what went into that story I wrote and that I am trying to show humanity. In the end, though, I believe that God is the ultimate answer. I can provide as much as I can for a person’s physical needs, but if their spiritual needs aren't dealt with, it doesn’t help much.

So I took my young friend to the hospital when he called.  Then I dropped him off on a street corner.  When he calls again, I'll go again.  And someday maybe he'll call and be ready to leave all of this behind.  But that's a choice he needs to make.  I can't make it for him. 

And I continue to pray for him.
 

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The Gringos...

Back in August I got an e-mail from some random guy who said he was with a mission organization called "The World Race" and he was wondering if he could place a team with us for a month.  I was a little wary.  A month can be a long time with a team.  Especially if they're lame.  Not to mention that I'd never heard of this guy or group.  I asked him for a bit more info and he sent me a list of the groups and missionaries they would be working with in Bolivia.  Yea, just about everyone I knew was on that list.  So I wrote him and said sure, why not.

I made a couple of arrangements and then I promptly forgot about it.  Which is, you know...what I do... 

Fast forward a couple of months. 

I'm headed for a little hotel in the city and feeling very excited about taking a couple of much needed days off.  It's been a rough few weeks.  I have visions of laying by a pool and thinking of nothing but what I'm going to eat for supper and how nice the air conditioning in my room is going to feel like. 

Then my cell rang.  Turns out the team would be arriving the next day. 

Well, isn't that just the best timing ever.  In my head I was sort of like, "God...if you wanted to send them somewhere else that'd be okay with me.  Maybe there's another missionary who really, really wants them." 

I waited a moment but my phone didn't ring, so I set my alarm to get up the next morning to head to the bus terminal to pick them up.  Everything was mostly in place for them...I just wasn't very excited for the work involved getting them orientated when I was supposed to be relaxing and reading a book by a pool.

TWR people...if you're reading this...hang in there.  It get's better...

I called my friend who they'd be also working with to let her know the team was arriving the next day.  She knew I had been planning some time off and being the great friend she is, quickly offered to take over with them the next morning.  The plan was for them to work with her that day anyhow, so that was all fine.  I was back to enjoying my day off.  I headed for the bus terminal feeling a little bit better.

And then their bus didn't arrive when it was supposed to.  So I waited.  And waited.  And waited.  Did I mention it was hot out?  Like 38 C hot?  All I could think of was my deck chair, surrounded by palm trees...the sun glistening off the water in the pool...

Finally I got a call that they had arrived.  As I wandered around the terminal looking for them, I wondered how their trip had been.  They had just bused it from somewhere in Peru.  Which is pretty impressive if you know anything about South American buses.  I figured they'd be tired and hungry and probably a little grumpy.  I would be.

I finally found them surrounded by backpacks, sitting on the sidewalk in another part of the terminal.  I walked up to them and they greeted me with...

Big smiles and hugs.  Seriously.  I had just waited a couple of hours in my happy and comfortable truck...and I was kind of grumpy.  These people had just ridden HOURS on a bus and were all smiles and hugs.

And it just got better from there.  They won me over pretty quick.  In the end, they were probably one of my favourite groups ever.  Seriously...they were awesome! 

See TWR people...I told you...

They were funny...they worked hard...they never complained...they smiled all the time...they never complained.  Yea, I know I said that last one twice, but I live with twelve guys who never seem to stop complaining.  So...it was nice.

Anyhow...a few pictures of that great group of gringos...

Working at El Jordan's new work site...

Ruth painting...

Josh sanding up high...

Ruth and Molly with the kids at El Jordan...

Kursti and Ruth and un-named baby having an after lunch nap...

The girls making us pizza for lunch...

The daily foosball turnament...

A little cliff diving...

A little more cliff jumping...

The team...

Josh and Kristen...

Praying with a young street kid who had come off the streets and

had gone with the team to YWAM's transition home...

Hanging out with that same young guy a week later at a TB hospital. 

He was in much better shape...

Ice cream in the plaza...

They were a photogenic group...

Kristen's hypnotic gaze...

Packed up and ready to go...

One last trip in the back of the truck...

Like I said, these guys were a lot of fun and a huge blessing to us.  I can't say enough good about them.  This was month three for them, of an eleven month, around the world missions trip.  As I write this, they are on their way to Albania and a month later from there, Romania.  They'll spend a couple of months in Africa and then onto Asia and then on their way home eight month from now.

Hey guys...thanks!  You were amazing!  Come back any time...
   
PS...We were hanging out in the plaza one night and the team decided to show us some good ol' American dance moves...




Always entertaining...

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