Driving in Santa Cruz...

Just a quick little video I took with my phone to show you what driving down here can be like.  I edited it down to three minutes from the twenty minutes it took. 



Sure it's a gong show.  But after awhile there's a certain entertainment factor that kicks in and you just have to sit back and go with it. 

Besides...it keeps life interesting...
 

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Prayer Request

I'm dealing with one of those situations where I can't say too much.  It's all personal to someone.  But I'm finding it incredibly difficult to sort out in my head what's true and what's not.  I've gotten caught off guard a few times in the past couple of months and it's made me skittish. 

I want to believe the young guy I'm working with.  But...my heart says he might not be telling the truth.  And it's kind of a serious situation.  The truth needs to come out for everyone's sake. 

If you can pray about this with me, I'd appreciate it.  Learning to trust can be difficult no matter who you are, but it's an even greater obstacle when you never had that opportunity at a young age.

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Ah Subway...once again you toy with my heart.

I really do appreciate when someone down here tries to get it right.  And to clarify, I'm talking about things like restaurants and business services and whatnot.  Not things like character development or learning to make good decisions.  Of course I'm happy when someone does that...goes without saying.  It's kind of what I do here.

But living in a third world country away from your home culture has it's challenges and struggles somedays.  So when there's a restaurant or business that clicks with you and reminds you of home...it's nice.  I'm not advocating that Bolivia become North American or anything (heaven forbid)...but once in awhile it's nice to eat food that tastes like it looks like it should. 

Which brings me to Subway.  I love Subway.  I mean...I really, really LOVE Subway.  It's the first place I go when I hit the airport in Miami.  When I lived in Saskatoon there was a Subway a block and a half from my house and the "Sandwich Artist" kid behind the counter knew my order.  I'm sure I ate there a least twice a week (okay...maybe more).

So when Subway opened in Santa Cruz you can imagine my reaction.  The gong of joy in my heart rang loud and true.  I'm sure my mouth dropped open the day I saw that glorious sign and if I was a person who cried I would have cried huge, wet tears of happiness. 

But sadly, as with many things in life and in Bolivia...it didn't last.  I went a few times and eventually the pang of disappointment was too much and I stopped going.  It just wasn't the same.  It's been long enough now since I've gone that I've almost gotten over the slight pain I feel in my heart every time I drive past a Subway sign. 

Which brings me to Monday night.  I was at the airport dropping off a couple of my friends.  One of them, Jeremy (who's just freshly arrived from the States and hasn't had time to become jaded yet) commented on the fresh, happy smell of baking bread coming from the airport's nearby Subway store.  Maybe it was his naive excitement or maybe it was my age induced memory loss...but after my friends got on their plane, I meandered past Subway's little corner. 

The thing is...it looks the same.  I mean exactly the same.  They even got rid of their McDonald style plastic tables and put in those lounge chairs and little short coffee tables that no one could possibly eat a sub at without being uncomfortably hunched over...just like in North America!  "Look!" my heart said, "Surely it'll taste the same now!  They have the same stupid tables and chairs!"

So I got in line. 

I faltered momentarily when I saw the menu and prices and realized I was about to spend twice what a normal plate of food costs here.  But then I watched as my favourite Parmesano Orégano bread came freshly out of the oven...and I caved to tempation and desire. 

I made it past the meat and cheese selection fairly unscathed.  I wasn't thrilled with the three little pieces of ham or the one slice of cheese that adorned each half of my sandwich.  But I decided I could live with that.

Lettuce is lettuce.  So whatever.

Then I asked for a few onions.  I'm not a huge onion fan, so honestly... I was very clear on "a few!"  The girl hesitated for a moment as if she couldn't understand why I would say that and then procceded to put as many sliced onions on the sandwich as there was lettuce on the thing.  Seriously.  When I later walked through the airport I'm sure people wondered at the the smell of onions wafting behind me... 

Okay whatever, I can pick them off.

Then came green peppers.  I really like green peppers.  Always have.  My "Sandwich Artist" kid (yea, I kind of enoy writing that) in Saskatoon would load up my sub so much that you could eat the thing without leaving great chunks of pepper behind. 

So I winced slightly at the sad, two little pieces of green pepper she carefully laid side by side on each half of the sandwich.  Which is weird 'cause it's not like green peppers are so much more rare and expensive than the stupid onions.  But whatever.

The tomatoes looked kind of dicey so I skipped them and went straight to the olives.  I also like pickles but I learned long ago that Bolivian pickles bear no resemblance to real pickles in any way whatsoever.  Except maybe that they're green.  But nothing else. 

So yea...the olives.  No lie, the girl counted out four pieces of olive for each half.  And I'm not even talking about olive slices here.  I'm talking about a slice of olive cut in half.  So...a piece.

After carefully placing each of the four pieces of olive on the sandwich she hesitated and then carefully put on one more "piece" of olive on each half.  Oh, the generosity of it all.  Warms my heart it does.

I skipped the bacon.  I could say that it's bad for my heart, but we all know I couldn't really care less about that.  Reality is...a floppy, half-cooked slice of pork just doesn't really help improve my sub sandwich experience at all.  I know, I KNOW...it's bacon!  How can you ruin bacon?  But as it turns out, you really can.

Then with a dribble (and I do mean dribble) of sweet onion sauce,  I was on my way.  I did break with form and tradition here and asked for another dribble of sauce.  She grudginly complied.  But her heart wasn't in it.

I wish I could convey what it's like to then eat the above described sandwich.  It's kind of like eating the ghost of a memory.  I'm not sure what that means exactly but wow, let's be honest...that's some impressive alliteration.  It's like your mouth almost remembers and recognizes what you're eating...but just not quite...

Granted the bread is pretty good.  No complaints there.  If you squish the sandwich around in your mouth a bit and try your darndest to ignore the overpowering flavour of onions...you can almost catch the ham and cheese in there.  The flavour of green pepper is a joke and the olives?  A distant memory...

And so...once again...my heart has become jaded and cold.  Thanks you Bolivian Subway.  Fortunately, the lack of a good sub sandwich isn't going to exactly impact my life in any substancial way.  And in three weeks I'll be passing through Miami and come hurricanes or floods or South Beach gangsta dudes with their Cadilac Escalades...I'm eating a freaking Subway Melt with pickles and olives and bacon.

Wow...this is a really long post about a sandwich.  I should maybe have mentioned that at the begining...

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One of those days...

Once again the SCS team has come and gone.  And once again I had an excellent time with them.  We always have fun.  At least that's how I remember it.  Hopefully they feel the same. 

For some reason though, in the middle of those good, happy times, there are always moments when you have to choose to either laugh about what's going down...or you hit the nearest person with a shovel. 

Most days I choose to laugh.

Last Monday was one of those days.  We were working at fixing up the house of a lady from our church.  It was a great project and I was excited to get it done.  But it just seemed like everything that could go wrong that day did.

It's tough keeping twenty eight people busy.  Yimy and I were running around getting supplies and trying to keep things organized.  We accidentally bought four times too much plastic for one of the projects (at about $80 a roll).  Then the brakes went on the truck (I looked in the mirror and there was smoke POURING out from the rear tire wells). 

And then as we limped back to the work site in the truck, we found our road was closed.  Workers had dug a big trench across the street.  We bumped and jostled our way down a side road until we came to a cross road.  There was a big muddy spot that we had to get through and Yimy hesitated (he was driving).  He suggested that we turn around and go back and find another way. 

But the team was waiting and I didn't have much patience left at that point.  So I just said, "Vamos Yimy!  Cuatro por cuatro!" ("Come on Yimy!  Four wheel drive!")

Yea...dumber words were never spoken.  We drove into what turned out to be a much deeper mud hole that we'd anticipated. 

Oh...did I say mud hole?  Raw sewage hole would be more appropriate.  Yimy just looked over at me and gave me that classic "I told you so" look.  I rolled my eyes and told him to move so I could drive.  I figured I'd show him how it was done.

Yea...not so much. 

We weren't going anywhere.  The undercarriage of the truck was resting on the ground.  So Yimy hoofed it back to where the team was to get us some help.  I just sat there in the truck while everyone drove by and judged me and smirked at what an idiot the gringo was.  I burried my head in a magazine and didn't make eye contact.

Eventually some help arrived from the team and they gave it their best.  But there wasn't much they could do.  After awhile, we managed to flag down a big truck who backed up to us and yanked us out with no real effort.  Then he proceeded to drive right through the mess as soon as we were out of the way.  Yea, yea...whatever.

Anyhow...here are a couple of picks I snapped on my phone.  They make me laugh. 

Now.

Outstanding...

Digging...

More digging...

Good effort boys...good effort.

A little bit later back at the house, after everything else that had gone wrong, one of the guys on the team brushed his head against a piece of wire hanging from the ceiling of the house where we were working.  It gave him a shock and it turned out to have live current in it. 

I just shook my head and pretended not to see.  He was fine and his hair was already curly so I figured we were all good.
 
It was just that kind of day...

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I'm famous! More or less....

Okay, funny...I happened to have some time on my hands this morning and so I was checking my e-mail.  There was an e-mail waiting from my college with a link to our school's magazine, so I was putzing around looking at it.  Low and behold, tucked way at the end was a link called "Briercrest grad helping Bolivian street kids become responsible adults". 

I was like, "Well...that kind of sounds like me.  How many of us can there be in Bolivia?"

So I checked it out and low and behold it was me!  The reporter interviewed me last February when I was home visiting the school, but I never heard anything else about it.  I guess in July it made the magazine (or at least the online version....I don't think I saw the article in the paper version they send out.)

At any rate...it's a pretty decent article.  Probably the best that's been written about us so far.  Some of the others have had some rather amusing errors.  But this one I like.  I probably sound a little more together and on top of things than I really am....but whatever.  =) 

If you have a moment, take a look...

Have a great day everyone!

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A good day at Yimy's house...

Yimy's (one of the guys who lives here at the house) mom lives in Argentina and his dad works way off somewhere in the jungle (they're separated).  But the family has a house an hour or so outside of Santa Cruz (where Yimy grew up).  His two younger brothers live there and his mom comes home to visit every month or so. 

This trip she bought the family their first fridge!  So Yimy and I hauled it out there on Saturday.  Everyone was pretty excited.  I took a few pics with my camera (the quality isn't that great...but you get the idea).

The new fridge...

Big smiles!

Leveling a spot on the floor...

Yimy, his brother and his niece with the new fridge!

All in all a good day!  I told them there'd better be cold pop in there the next time I visited....  =)

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The final chapter?

Most of you probably remember when this happened (and a bit more here)...even though it was way back in May of 2011.  Seems like a long time ago doesn't it?  And it is.  Certainly long enough for my truck to be fixed and sold long ago.

Except it isn't.

Almost a year later, I'm still fighting with my insurance company to get everything done.  The details are too long and frustrating to bother getting into here, but suffice it to say that I finally lost it today.  After all the delays and lies about when the truck would be ready (or that it was ready when it wasn't) and terrible bodywork that had to be redone...today was the last straw.

The only thing the truck needs at this point are two new fog lights and to replace the right headlight bulb.  Somehow that's managed to take nearly a month.  Yimy and I sat in this guy (Daniel)'s office today for nearly an hour while he waited for the guy in Cochabamba (Sergio) to approve the purchase of said lights.  This would be the same guy that took eight months to "fix" the truck in the first place. 

Finally Sergio called back and said that they would pay for the fog lights but not the headlight because they didn't know if was because of the accident or not, and Daniel (the Santa Cruz guy) agreed with that.  After ten months of waiting...four trips to Cochabamba to pick up the truck only to be asked if I could come back in a few days because "it wasn't quite ready"...more waiting in Santa Cruz for the bodywork to be redone....multiple trips to the Santa Cruz office to try to get them to finish the work the Cochabamba office didn't do (this Daniel character actually told me that it was my fault he hadn't gotten to this sooner because I didn't come into the office often enough to remind him to contact the Cochabamba office for permission to buy the lights.  He said that he had "lots of other work to do!").

And now they were fighting me on a $5 light bulb. 

I couldn't believe it.  I seldom get angry over things, but that was the last straw.  I ranted to Daniel (he later told Yimy he was annoyed that I left without saying thank you for his help!) then went to my insurance agent (who I've bought my insurance from for the past six years) and ranted to her.  She was sympathetic and asked if I wanted to talk to the main boss guy.

Oh, heck yes...

So I told the boss guy my whole story and explained that I couldn't believe that, after everything I'd been through with them, they were saying they wouldn't buy the stupid lightbulb.  I figured it was the least they could do.  It's cost me hundreds of dollars in interest to the bank to have that truck parked for ten months when I couldn't use it or sell it, not to mention the trips to Cochabamba, not to mention the aggravation of waiting for so long.

Yea...I was pretty angry.  I told him that if he wanted to keep his clients happy he shouldn't argue with them over a stupidly small thing when they've done such a terrible job in the first place.

He was actually really good about it.  He appologized and immediately agreed that they would pay for the $5 lightbulb.  I walked back past Daniel (the pain in the butt guy) with my head held high and a pride in my step.

Yay for Ken!  He finally get's to win one!!  Who cares if it's only a $5 lightbulb...it's still a victory for the little guy over the big, evil corporation!  I was quite pleased, if I do say so myself.  I never seem to get to declare victory in these kinds of situations. 

And then....there's the funny, little final chapter to my story.  We stopped back at the house to get the broken lightbulb from the truck to show the parts store what bulb it was exactly.  After a couple of minutes Yimy came back into the house with a smirk on his face. 

When he went to pull the lightbulb, he noticed that there didn't seem to be any wires coming from the headlight like there were on the other one.  Turns out the autobody guys unplugged the light when they were working on the front end and then never plugged it back in again.  When Yimy reattached the plug?

Low and behold the lightbulb was fine and everything worked great.

Ahem.  Would "Oops" be the appropriate response?

After a moment of somewhat self concious laughter on my part, I decided that I don't feel too bad about my ranting.  Sure it was over a $5 headlight bulb that turns out was never broken (haha...that makes me laugh even as I write it), but that was really just the tip of the iceberg.  My insurance company's work was terrible and it feels good to have been able to say something to someone who matters. 

I also decided that my insurance company is never going to find out.  Yimy's the only one who knows down here and I pay for his food so that effectively buys him off. 

And so....yay, Ken finally wins one!

Kind of.

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My Shoeshine buddies...

Back in 2007 when I was still working at the boys’ home, I used to come into the city and make use of different coffee shops’ free WIFI.  I got to know a family of brothers who were all shoe shiners in the area.  The youngest was probably two and the oldest ten or eleven.  You can read about the first time I met them here.

Over the years I’ve stayed friends with them.  I run into them every once in a while and we stop and chat.  I usually give them a few Bolivianos or buy them a little something to eat.  Now that I live in the city, I see them less because I don’t go to use the WIFI as often (only when I’m trying to escape the house).

Recently though, I ran into Erlan (the middle boy).  I visited with him for a while and told him I’d like to meet his mom someday.  A couple of weeks later I was once again trying to escape and I went into the coffee shop I use.  There he was waiting for me.  He must have been going every day to see if I was there.  He had a list of school supplies and asked if I would be willing to help him out.  I said sure, and we made plans to meet the next day to go to the market.

The next day Maribel, Yimy, Erlan, his little brother Fernando and I headed off to the market.  I let Maribel do most of the shopping.  I just waited nearby with the money.  It’s kind of how we do things.  As it turned out, he needed a lot of supplies.  I have no idea how most families afford them.  It was over $50 worth which is a lot down here. 

The price aside, it was darn fun seeing him and Fernando carrying the big bags of school supplies back to the truck.  I gave him the lecture that he’d better study hard and get good marks now.  He solemnly assured me he would.  =) 

We dropped the boys off at their house because I wanted to meet their mom.  The house is pretty far out on the edge of town but it’s definitely a hard place to miss.  It’s painted bright purple with a neon green set of chairs and table out front.  It made me smile.  The boys’ mom shyly came over with a smile and introduced herself.  No doubt it’s intimidating to have a gringo with a big truck show up at your house.  But Yimy, Maribel and I were our chatty, happy selves and she seemed to relax. 

As we were about to leave, Erlan asked if we could by his little brother’s school supplies as well (he didn’t have his list yet), so we made plans to get together again the next week. 

The next week when Yimy and I arrived at the house, the boys’ mom told me that they’d already left for “work” (shining shoes), so she hopped in the truck and away we went to find the guys. 

They were sitting on the same corner I first saw them at five years ago.  Christian was there too, so all three boys piled into the truck with their mom.  I decided it would be fun to treat us to a Saltena (a Bolivian breakfast food), so we stopped along the way at one of the many Saltena restaurants.

Erlan

Even though they’re a popular, traditional food here, I’m not sure any of them had ever had a Saltena before.  They weren’t entirely sure how to eat them.  They figured it out mind you and we had a good time eating and getting to know each other better

I found out that there are nine kids in the family.  The boys’ mom washes clothes to support her family.  There’s no dad in the picture as far as I can see.  There were ten kids, but sadly, the oldest boy (who I met that first day) died of cancer a couple of years ago.  He was only fourteen.   

Fernando (the youngest)

I noticed that Christian’s face was all scraped up.  His mom explained that about a year ago he began having seizures.  They’re not sure (he’s never been tested) but they think he has epilepsy.  He generally has a seizure every day.  His face was all scraped because he fell down on the sidewalk the last time he had one.  It worries me because of the lifestyle these kids have.  He’s constantly running across the street between cars.  If he’s having that many seizures (I’m no expert, but one a day seems to be a lot), there’s definitely a danger of him having one in a bad spot.

Christian's face

They were pretty happy when I explained that while there’s no cure for epilepsy (if that’s what he has), there are ways of controlling the seizures.  I know a missionary doctor here, so I’m waiting to hear from her to see what we can do to help him.

Please pray for this young family.  The boys’ mom says she’s afraid the boys are going to end up on the streets.  I think that’s definitely a possibility.  They’re close now.  Thankfully they’re still studying and coming home at night.  But they’re going down that path that so many of the street kids have gone down.  Their friends are all mostly street kids.  It’s where they spend most of their day.  The time is likely coming when they’ll just stop going home at night and they’ll take that step towards being on the streets full time.

After working for so many years with kids who spent years on the streets, I really want to help these young guys to not go down that road.  I feel like there’s a chance to be proactive here rather than just picking up the pieces afterwards.  But it’s complicated.  I’m not sure how to help this family without starting to pay for everything.  To begin with, I can’t afford that, and secondly I don’t think it’s healthy for them either, to completely depend on the gringo.  So I’m thinking it through.  Pray for wisdom for me as well. 

Thanks everyone, for taking the time to read this.  I know it’s a bit of a novel.  And as always, thanks for taking the time to pray for us!

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My favourite day...

After multiple tries, this video is finally uploaded.  I may have built it up a bit too much by saying it was the coolest video ever...maybe it's not, but I'm sure you'll agree that it's pretty darn amazing none the less. 

I'll let you watch now and judge for yourself.  Watch the video before you read anymore...



A couple of things that I love...

 - I said in the video that Mary understood what was going on.  She didn't.  She said later that she thought Uncle Norman was buying her a new door for her house.  She had no idea what was happening either.

 - The house was fully furnished.  The family didn't need to bring anything from their old house except their clothes.  Dishes, towels, bedding, furniture...it was all there.

 - Each bed had an afghan on it, hand knit by a group of ladies from Canada.

 - I missed this when I made the video (I was in a noisy coffee shop) but at 9:13 one of the kids says "Us!" and Corina responds "You!".  Watch the little guy on the left's face at 9:15 when he realizes what's going on.

 - When they're looking at the bathroom one of the little guys points to the soap dish on the wall and his older brother says, "It's soap!"

 - I also missed the kids discovering the fridge.  They couldn't get over how it was so cold inside.  =)

 - When I showed this video to Yimy (at the house) he just kept saying, "Oh.  Oh.  Oh." throughout the video of the house.  He couldn't get over how nice it was.

And finally, after Uncle Norman and Corina and everyone visited and filmed the family's first house, Mary asked if she could borrow a little bit of money.  With the rain we've been having, she hadn't been able to wash clothes and all she had in the house to eat was a cup of rice.  Nothing else. 

If she only knew what the next day was going to bring!    =)

A huge thank you to Uncle Norman and Aunt Nancy (Corina's uncle and aunt) and all the amazing people both in Canada and Bolivia who made this happen.  Words fail.  This is beyond cool.  And thanks Uncle Norman for letting me be a little part of this day!

Seriously....best day ever.

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Oye!

"Oye" is our catch all word in Spanish for a variety of things.  In this context in means...

"Oops, I just forgot a 7 AM doctor's appointment for a 82 year old gentleman we're helping....the 14 minute video I'm uploading seems to be stuck at 21% after 25 hours of uploading and says that there's 3256 minutes to go....the storm that swept through Santa Cruz last night did a number on my room (I wasn't home) and literally flooded the entire floor of my beadroom and soaked everything and now my room smells like a musty basement....my bank card got cancelled this week and has been causing all kinds of problems...oh, and the water got cut off for lack of payment last night (it's back on now though)...."

Okay that last one just makes me laugh.  But the rest of it?

"Oye."

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