Currently two blocks away...

If you've been down to visit, you'll know that our neighbourhood is surrounded on three sides by industrial areas.  Which doesn't really affect us much.  Well...except when there's a fire I guess...

Two blocks over, there's a long stretch that contains a perfume factory (which obviously contains alcohol), a paint factory and (of coures) a propane storage/distribution building.

Below is a current picture of the paint factory.

I was having my Sunday afternoon nap, when one of the guys knocked on my door and said, "You need to see this!"  I was a bit surprised, to say the least.  Fires are fairly rare here, since most buildings are built of cement and brick.  But of course...paint burns nicely.

A couple of the guys and I went over a bit closer to see what was happening (don't hassle me...either one of my parents would have done the same thing).  We were there a half an hour or so, before the first fire truck showed up. 

Yea...it didn't exactly instill confidence.  My first thought was, "Oh great...we're going to lose the entire neighbourhood."  Then a few minutes later the next truck showed up...

...and I felt better.  Except for the big "Volunteer Firefighters" written across the side of the ladder.  That still made me a bit nervous.  Then the third truck showed up, and we all relaxed a little...

...until one of the firemen came up to me (of all people) and asked if there was a swimming pool in the area.  He got half a dozen different answers from the people standing around, and eventually he wandered off.  I guess they were looking for a water source?  (No fire hydrants down here...).  I heard one of the guys behind me say to the guy next to him, "They really have no plan."  Then I was back to being worried.

As it stands now, we're back in the house, and I just keep checking the fire every once in awhile to see what's happening.  There's a tree on the horizon about half way between the fire and the building where the propane tanks are being stored (it's where we buy our propane for the stove and there are anywhere from 500 to a thousand tanks there).  If or when the smoke hits that tree, I'm gathering the guys and we're heading for Burger King to wait this out.  It's a good thing the wind is blowing the smoke away from us, or we'd be in the middle of a huge, toxic cloud.

A couple more pictures...

The view from my window...it's actually closer

than it looks in this picture...

From the traffic circle on the Forth Ring....

I imagine all they'll be able to do is contain it and let it burn itself out.  Like I said, we really don't get much in the way of fires down here, so I don't think there's really the capacity to fight this in any significant way.  It's been a couple of hours now, and I can still hear fire trucks arriving, so I guess we'll see.

At any rate...never a dull moment here in Bolivia...


UPDATE:

It's almost 10 o'clock, and the fire is still going strong.  It spread to two more adjacent buildings, but I think they have it under control now.  Ivan and I walked over there earlier, and I took a few more pictures.  It's pretty spectacular at night.  The pictures don't really do it justice.

  

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Home...

I'm sure every missionary would tell you the same thing.  Some days it amazes me how easy it is to communicate with home...internet, Facebook, Skype...it's a whole different missionary world than it was even ten years ago.  And for that I'm thankful.

But...other days...you feel really far away.  When family and friends are suffering, even though you can talk to them on the phone, it's not quite the same as being there.

Right now?  Home is definitely a long ways away.
   

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This'll make you laugh...

Well...I don't want to build this video up too much...but if this doesn't make you at least smile...  =)

That's Roberto on the left, Yimy straight ahead and Ruddy to the right.  I'm the guy laughing like an idiot.  It was one of those dumb camp games that turned out to be pretty fun.  My guys are nothing if not competitive...

  

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So, yea...if we could just ignore my dumb move...

So...once again it seems I have to confess my stupidity.  I got roped into (literally) playing a tug-of-war game at camp and kind of killed my back.  And I'd been doing so well.  But I got caught up in the moment and really wanted my team to win.  I thought it would be your typical plant your heels into the dirt and don't move kind of deal. 

Then they started strapping me into the harness.  Along with three other teams of guys.  It was by far the hardest thing I've ever done.  I could barely move when we were finished and bit by bit, over the next few hours, my back started to hurt again.

So anyhow...now it's pretty bad.  I'm not asking for sympathy (not that I'm going to get any...I can only imagine the comment section after this), but I would appreciate some prayer.  I'm getting frustrated and trying really hard not to take that frustration out on the guys in the house.  I'm more or less succeeding.  Probably depends on who you talk to.

For your entertainment, I've got pictures.  Pay special attention to David, the kid in the lower, righthand side of the picture...

...and that would be the money shot...

We did win...if that means anything to anyone.  Mostly 'cause I have long, monkey arms...at least in comparison to most Bolivians.

So...if you could just skip over my stupidity and pray for the back situation...I'd appreciate it.  =)

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Campamento...

Last weekend we took off with our church, up into the mountains for a family camp, I guess you could call it.  Not sure any of the guys were all that excited to go (not sure how I felt about it exactly, but I'm on the church board so...).  In the end though, it was amazing time for all of us.  The guys couldn't stop talking about how much fun they had.  So that made me happy.  I was kind of imagining how bad it could have been if they'd hated it...fun times for Ken.  But fortunately it went the other way.  Anyhow, here are some pictures of the weekend...

Arriving at 5 AM after driving all night. 

It was cold and I was tired!

Early morning devotions...

Playing pool...which technically

Christians here aren't supposed to do.

Of course my guys are great at it. 

But then so are all the guys in our church. 

So it seems we're in good company...

Playing foosball...a favourite past time down here. 

Second only to...

Actual soccer of course.

There were the usual camp games...which Bolivians really love!

Or at least our church does...

The person pushing can't see where they're going...

Lots of games involving water...

There were a few cowards in the crowd...

But my guys sucked it up...

We hiked to the top of Monte Blanco...the White Mountain...

David and his little girl.  She was game for everything...

as long as Dad carried her...  =)

At the top...

Andres and I...

All of us...

The hike down...it was a little precarious...especially for the pregant lady...

Evening church...

Late night hike up the mountain for a bonfire...

The ditch I just about fell into while taking the last picture...

There was a cemetary to walk past.  Of course there was....

Bonfire!

People REALLY didn't know how to roast marshmellows. 

It was sad...  =)

Marshmellows are a fairly rare thing here.

Nice enough picture of us...but notice the two guys beside us.

They're just visiting and chatting...

Hey look...someone's taking a picture...

So of course they just joined on in! 

A couple more people shots...

Yimy and Aron...

Jorge and Little Man...

Tonchi and Emiliano...

The whole group of us...

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Another travel story from Ken...

Before I post anymore pictures, I need to tell you a story. It’s a story that’s funnier now than it was when it happened. It was mostly just annoying when it was happening. Although...if I was being honest, I’d have to admit there was always a part of me that was thinking, “This is going to make a funny story for my blog.”  Be prepared...it's a bit on the long side.  But it makes me laugh so...

Most of you know me well enough, so none of what follows will come as a big surprise. Most of you probably don’t know my friend Liz very well. If you did...you REALLY wouldn’t be surprised by what’s about to follow. I don’t mean that in a bad way...it’s just that we BOTH tend to attract...mishaps, I guess you could say. It’s not our fault...it just happens to us. This wasn’t the first time...and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

Now granted...we didn’t exactly plan our little trip to Turkey very well. We both had reasons to be there at the same time, so we thought, “Hey, let’s see some of the sights together.” That was kind of the extent of our planning ahead. In our defence, we live on different continents, so it was tough to make plans. In the end, we managed to be there at the same time, and that was pretty much the most anyone could expect of us. If you’ve read this, then you understand completely...or at least you should. Occasionally one of us (usually Liz) would write and say, “You know...we should really figure out what we want to do in Turkey.” To which I would reply, “Yea, we really should.”

And then we’d go back to whatever it was we were doing before that little conversation.

All that to say...we ended up doing a little last minute planning and changing of plans. On the second day of our time in Istanbul we decided to cut it short and fly down to another city on the south coast, Antalya, and spend a couple of days there. I got out my handy little Lonely Planet book and found some things I wanted to see that were a little off the beaten track. I found an amazing deal online for a rental car, and what looked like a cool little hotel...so we were set. I wrote the rental car guy and asked him to meet us at the airport.

Again, in my defence, I figured he’d take us to his office to sign the paperwork and that he’d probably have a map we could have to help us find our way around the city. I also figured he’d have an idea where our hotel was and could give us directions. What I didn’t expect was for him to fill out the paperwork on the trunk of the car and be gone before we really knew what was happening. Which is exactly what happened.

So off I went back into the airport to see if maybe the gift shop had a map or something, since we really didn’t know much about the city. Or really even where the hotel was. I could kind of picture it in my head from the map online when we booked it, but for some reason I figured I’d be able to get online and look up the address, so I hadn’t written it down.

I did kind of find a map. I say “kind of” because it sort of looked like someone had just sketched it out on a piece of paper and photocopied it to sell to stupid tourists who didn’t arrive very well prepared. I’m sure there must be a market for such maps ‘cause I can’t imagine I’m the only one who showed up in an unknown city with no address of the hotel and no real idea of where he was going.

For some reason I had it in my head that Antalya wasn’t a very big place, like 30,000 people. So I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal finding our way around. I mean...how tough could it be right?

Yea, so it turns out Antalya is almost a million people. It’s kind of like arriving in Vancouver with no map and no address to where you’re going and then just planning to drive around randomly and hope you find your hotel.

Actually it’s exactly like that.

I think what messed us up from the gitgo (that is a word, I looked it up) was that I thought the airport was north of the city when, in fact, it was more to the east. So when Liz kept saying that we should go more to the west, I thought she was crazy. In the interest of preserving our friendship, I tried to keep my mouth shut, but inside I was like, “Seriously?” In my defence (I keep saying that), even knowing our starting out point, she still led us on a merry little chase through some backwoods country outside the city. =) Ha ha...love ya Liz.

The great thing about Liz and I is that we can laugh in the midst of our misery. We stopped at a gas station for help at one point (they didn’t help much) and Liz tried to get out of the car. She pulled the door handle, but nothing happened. So I searched around for the electric locks and hit the button. She tried again, and nothing happened. This went on for awhile, me locking and unlocking the door...Liz pulling on the handle. Until finally, Liz pulled the door handle...and then pushed the door. Hey, guess what?! It was open the entire time...it just didn’t occur to us to actually push on the door. Yea...that had us laughing so hard we couldn’t speak for awhile.

The other thing that messed us up on this little adventure was the lack of street signs. And where there did actually happened to be a street sign? Well...it was written in a foreign language. Turkish, I guess. So the names all looked like Gundogmus and Kazimkarabikar. See, you’re laughing...but those are actual street names in the city. At one point I was like, “I think we’re on Sokakta.” Liz diplomatically informed me that “Sokakta” was actually the Turkish word for...street. So, that didn’t really help. When we did actually see a street sign, I would try to chant it phonetically while Liz tried to find it on the map. Yea...that didn’t really help either.

At any rate, we drove randomly around the city for over FIVE HOURS trying to find the hotel. It’s not that random driving was ever part of the plan. But that’s how it worked out. Failing finding the hotel, I’d have been happy to just figure out where the heck we were on the map. Every forty five minutes or so, I’d be like, “Uh yea...we’ve been here before. I’m not entirely sure how mind you, but...we’ve been here before.” Of course we did stop and ask for directions a couple of times, but somehow we managed to get the only two little old ladies in the city who didn’t know how to read a map. Or...at least our map.

By now we were getting pretty grumpy. We saw another hotel and figured they would be able to help us. Liz went in and then came out laughing. She was like, “You know how we thought we were here?” and she pointed at the map. “Actually...we’re over here.” And she pointed to another spot a couple of inches across the city from where we were. I have to admit...I was a little surprised by how far off we were. It was kind of impressive. We knew our hotel was in the old part of the city, and now with a correct starting place we were actually in the right area in just a couple of minutes.

I turned off the main road, behind a motorcycle, onto a smaller, cobblestone street, and in my excitement of finally knowing (more or less) where we were...I just kept follow the motorbike guy. Even now, thinking back on it...I’m not sure why I did that. He just seemed to know where he was going, and that confidence (after five hours of being lost) kind of sucked me in. He made another quick right hand turn onto an even narrower street...and I turned in right behind him. Strangely, this new street was only a little bit wider than the car...and it had big curbs on either side...and train tracks down the middle.

Now understand, I was pretty tired and it’s not every day you accidentally drive onto the train tracks of one of the city’s trams. So it took a moment before it finally sunk in. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late to try to back up. All I could do was keep going and hope and pray like a wild man, that we didn’t meet a train coming from the other direction.

That was probably the scariest four minutes of my life. It felt more like forty. My knuckles were literally white from gripping the steering wheel, and I could feel sweat pouring off my body. It didn’t really help that Liz was in the passenger seat chanting, “Oh dear Jesus! Oh dear Jesus!”

Obviously (since I’m writing this) we managed to get off the tracks before getting pasted by an oncoming train. We eventually passed a place where a bike path crossed the tracks, and it was wide enough for me to turn onto and then get back onto the main road. Every time I think about this (now...) I start laughing. I can just imagine people walking by and seeing a little grey Toyota go flying past on the tram tracks with two white people freaking out in the front seats.

We circled back around and this time made the correct turns and managed to get into the old city. It was the craziest thing...one minute you’re in a modern city and the next, you’re suddenly driving through a medieval village. It was literally a maze of tiny, little, twisty, one way streets, barely wider than the car...and going in every which direction. These people definitely never heard of the grid system. But it was very pretty, and very cool. I wish we’d had more time to look around. Like five hours more time...

After that, the evening was much more relaxing. The little hotel was great, and after getting settled, we sat by the pool, listened to some cool live music and had our supper of fresh grilled fish.

The next day we were off on our adventure drive up the coast...

This is a video of driving in the old part of the city...

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The Police took my truck...

The police took my truck.  Again.  I don't know what it is, but they sure like to come after me.  Maybe it's 'cause they think I have money.  Ha ha...jokes on them. 

Last night at 11 PM I was driving someone home, and just two minutes from the house we ran into a checkpoint.  That's usually not a big deal because I finally have everything together on my truck.  All the paperwork...all the stickers...everything.  So generally they look me over a bit and send me on my way.  This time, however, they started hastling me about the tint on my windows.  My front windows are fine, but the back two have been tinted darker.  Technically they're not supposed to be, but everyone's are, and for the most part, no one cares.

Well, last night it seemed they cared.  At least about me.  As we sat there and tried to explain to the officer that I had been trying to take the tint off (and I had...it's about half gone) but that it all wouldn't all come off, I noticed that all the other vehicles being stopped were leaving again after a couple of minutes.  And they ALL had the same tint I had.  But nope...we had to go to the local police office.

So we started all over again with the officer in the office.  We explained our position and then he explained his position and then we explained our position again and then he explained his position...that went on for quite some time.  Neither one of us wanted to back down.  He wanted the equivalent of about $400 and I really didn't want to pay that.  The only other option was for them to take my truck for 72 hours.  I really didn't want that either. 

The brother-in-law of a friend of mine is pretty high up in the police department, so I tried calling him (he's been helpful in the past!), but I couldn't get ahold of him.  By now it was after 1 AM and I was running out of options.  We finally agreed to leave my truck in the compound for the night and I would come back in the morning. 

Six o'clock in the morning found me back at the police station trying to track down anyone who could help me.  I found out that my police friend was travelling and there was no way to contact him.  So I was starting to reconcile myself the the fact that I was soon to be a lot poorer.  It was the same officer from the night before, so I talked with him some more about the situation.  I was my very polite and helpful Canadian self, even though there were a few inconsistencies in the whole situation that I quite badly wanted to point out.  But I held my tongue.  The officer knew I was trying to contact this friend (who's actually the director of Interpol here in Santa Cruz) although I think he was pretty skeptical that I actually knew him. 

It was funny, even after I knew I wasn't going to be able to talk to Robert (my friend) I kept sitting there.  I really, REALLY didn't want to pay the money.  Especially when I didn't really think I was at fault.  =)  There isn't even that much tint left on my windows.  Another officer helpfully explained to me that because I'm the director of a children's home, I could have gotten special permission to have my windows tinted.  Really?  Not that I'm complaining...but why exactly? 

At any rate, that little piece of information didn't really help me right then.  My police officer friend from the night before came back outside and so I started chatting him up a little.  He actually spoke some English, so we talked about that.  Even though I knew I wouldn't be able to talk to Robert, I just kept sitting there.  I'm polite but darn stubborn.  Finally, my new friend (who I think was starting to feel bad about the situation) said, "Maybe if I talked to his wife..."

Really?  Perfect!  I called her house and...she had gone to the market.  Without her cell phone.  When I told that to the officer, he just shook his head and said, "Now that really sounds like a story."  I actually started laughing because I knew how it sounded too.  I was like, "I know, I know..."  He told me he could give me twenty more minutes and then he had to go off shift.  I called my friend's house again, and this time her son answered and told me that she'd be gone for about an hour.  Great.

So again, I started to reconcile myself to paying.  I didn't have the money, so I called a friend to see if he could come by the police station and loan it to me.  He said he could.  So as I waited for him and prayed...I kept trying to call my other friend's wife. 

With about three minutes to go...she answered!  I'm not sure I can explain how happy I was finally to hear her voice on the other end of the line.  I explained to her the situation and ran to find my police buddy.  I think she was a little surprised that this officer had agreed to talk to her.  I mean, technically she could have been the crazy lady across the street and he wouldn't have known the difference.  But whatever, who am I to argue with the police. 

Yea, that sounded funny even as I wrote it.  After just having spent the last four hours arguing with the police, I'm a bit of an expert. 

My police buddy took the phone and explained to her the situation and then asked her to let her husband know that he was granting me this favour (which I technically I guess they're allowed to do...strangely enough...) and with that, he handed me my keys and told me to go home.  Which I did.  Quickly.  Before anyone could change their minds.

And that, my friends, was how I spent my Sunday morning...

PS  Later, when I was telling the guys what had happened (they were all sleeping and had no idea I'd had any problems), Yimy laughed and said, "Yea, those police don't know you very well.  They should know that Ken Switzer never pays!"

And it's true.
  

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