The Llama Chronicles: Christmas Edition

Hello the people,

¡Feliz Navidad y Prospero Año Nuevo!

Hope everyonés holiday was lovely lovely and that you didńt miss me too much. I had a very
weird Christmas, first of all it was summer,second of all, Ím more like an aunt here than a kid so
my role shifted from participant in the arguments over who gets to play with the new toy
first to mediator of such arguments. It́s just good that my little kid Spanish is stupendous so I can
successfully intervene without the focus of the conflict shifting to how bad my spanish is...

I did find a cd by a very cheesy guy Miguel Luis or Luis Miguel, cańt remember which, who does
Christmas songs in Spanish with a swing band. Incredible. Learned Santa Claus is coming to
Town in Spanish to the delight of young and old alike.

We did big celebrating Chirstmas Eve, getting started with hot chocolate and panetón (think
fruitcake but less icky) around 8, moving on to presents which was quite the event. After
presents we spent an hour playing with the playstation-esque thing that Dayana got
(they cost $10 in the market here. INCREDIBLE!) because the duck hunting game was just too
fun. My abuelo kicked everyonés butt. Then we got in the car and went down to Plaza Colon to
look at lights and for the girls to play some, there were pony rides and bouncy castles and other
carnival stuff which Ciria, bless her little 6 year old heart, found thrilling beyond all reason. Then
on to the other grandparentś house for dinner, which started at midnight and was huge, more
presents for the kids and the playing and chatting continued on until 2 in the am. It was fun,
lots of family, lots of love, some tears over sharing presents (hey, it was MY hat and I dońt have
to share if I dońt want to) and it was basically all very new. I spent a lot of it doing that thing I
have to do a lot, watching confused until I get what´s going on and can participate.




Christmas day was all eating and visiting family and neighbors and being visited and playing.
Turns out I can put together a play kitchen faster than anyone. Points for me! I got a makeover
from Ciria who was eager to use her new makeup set and between you all and me, blue and violet
are not my colors...when they are applied to my cheeks. It was pretty comical but to her credit
she did it in the dark, by christmas lights only. I got to talk to my family in the states all through
their christmas dinner which was lovely and made everything better. Next year I will be the
heart of the christmas joy, just watch.

I am also writing now to let you all know that I did it. I  really did. I found the llamas. There are
pictures to prove it and I will send them along assoon as I find a computer that will let me upload
them. My mission iscomplete, which is really too bad because I have MONTHS left here.


I need a new project and I am open to suggestions. The last few weeks before Christmas have
been spent traveling, which wasn´t as adventure-y as I expected. First, I spent 5 days traveling
to Copacabana and Isla del Sol with Danielle Kravetz (for SLC people) which was part for fun and
part to cross overinto Peru to get our passports stamped. Lake Titicaca is the highest
navigable lake in the world and I could feel it. I forgot how icky altitude exhaustion is but that
difference of 4,000 feet between Cochabamba and the lake was plenty. It didn´́t help that
Danielle and I kept choosing these ambitious hill-climbing hikes but that́s not the point.

I dońt  want to talk about Peru, it was a disaster and not even a funny one but the chicken was
good. Copacabana is lovely and touristy and by the water, which I miss a lot when Ím in Cocha.
It́s Boliviás major pilgirmmage site for the Virgen of Copacabana, the Cathedral is the focal point
of the town and there is this hill, that looks less painful than it is, that has the stations of the cross
all the way to the top where you have altars of the seven sorrowful mysteries and forthe Virgin
herself along with incredible views.


Isla del Sol, howeveris the center of joy in the universe. To the Incas it was the birthplace of the
sun and it is incredible, covered with ancient terracing. The only downside is that you step off the
boat and have to haul yourself up these awful ancient Incan stairs, which you cańt appreciate
until you come back down, to get to the top of the island where they hide all of the hostals and
llamas. The hostal, though, was charming and the views incredible. It came complete with
resident llama and lots of donkeys who make hilarious noises about every half hour. At night,
because of the altitude and the darkness of the island and surrounding lake, the stars are
incredible. Previously hopeless with the whole astronomy thing, I could find constellations and
saw stars I didńt know existed. I wish I could have spent more time but Cochabamba and a group
trip were waiting so I only got one night under those bright Bolivian stars.


Back home a day and off again, this time to Sucre which is the official though not active captial of
Bolivia (I really cańt explain, I dońt get it either) and Potosi, which used to be the richest city in
the world and a major silver-mining center. Sucre is very white, they have a law that dictates
that everyone in certain areas of the city must whitewash their buildings once a year to preserve
the reputation of the city. Tons of Spanish colonial architecture and a really bizarre park with a
kid́s speedway and pony rides and a lagoon and a small eiffel tower. It also had this incredible
musuem of indigenous textiles of the jálqa and tarabuco quechua-speaking groups, I was a fan.
Potosi was high and cold and gray and seriously needs to look into some sidewalk expansion.


Cerro Rico looms over the city. Once it was the source of an incredible amount of wealth, which
mostly benefitted the Spanish, now it is still mined but is considerably less bountiful. It was a
strange contrast, the poverty of the city and the people in it and the remnants of its legacy as the
richest city in the world. Amazing architecture, often poorly maintained surrounded by
delapidatd buildings. On our final day, we took a tour into the mines of Cerro Rico. This was an
adventure. First of all Bolivia doesńt do seatbelts and really doesńt do safety codes. We got all
dressed up in these bright orange uniforms and headlamps and piled into a van and started a
harrowing journey up the mountain in the rain. I tell you, every ride at Disneyland, every
rollercoaster, every roadtrip with my biological father did nothing to prepare me for this ascent.
It fell somewhere between thrilling and horrifying but I lived to write the email, so I guess it́s all
fine. Our guide stopped off with us near the top to set off an explosion of nitroglycerine and
fertilizer and it was pretty strange, watching him running with the burning fuse to drop the
package off. The boom echoed off the surrounding mountains and I cannot believe that they do
that inside the mine. Unbelieveable.

Yes, so there you have it. More Bolivia joy than anyone could ever need. That is my Christmas
gift to you all.

I hope you all did have beautiful holidays and that your vacations (or not) continue to be great
fun and everyone has a HAPPY NEW YEAR! Lots of love from here and the llamas!

LOVE!

Mollie 

The Llama Chronicles: Monkeys and Todos Santos

Oh, friends and loves,

 
It´s been very long and a lot has happened. I´ve been busy, I´ve been lazy, and this has
definitely been one of those emails that I have avoided for so long I have come to dread
writing it. But the time has come and I miss you all and I know you miss me so I´m
going to do my best.
 
Shortly after my last epic edition, I took a weekend trip to the Chapare, a region of 
the Cochabamba department known for jungly things and a  hot climate as well as for harshly 
suppressed coca growing. I had two missions for the trip. The first was to eat fish. 
They have rivers and fish and I miss both lots. The second was to see monkeys. Oh me 
and my ill-conceived ideas for animal adventures...It was hot and humid and I was smelly and 
sweaty the whole time but I took incredible hikes with my wonderful wonderful travel 
buddy Abby and ate beautiful fish and the whole thing was a little surreal for me 
because for me the jungly things had always existed exclusively on tv and in national 
geographic but there I was with bugs I didn´t know really existed outside of the zoo 
and everything.

As for the monkey mission...Abby and I went to this national park 
which serves as a refuge and rehab center for illegally domesticated exotic animals 
like monkeys and it´s supposed to be great because you go and you can play with really 
chill wildlife and take great hikes. So we go, we walk into the park, are on our 
first trail on the way ON THE WAY to the monkey playground and something grabs me by 
the wrist so I turn around to see what weirdo is trying to get my attention on this 
trail in Bolivia and its a monkey, who proceeds to climb up my back and sit on my 
head. I shouted something and Abby turns around and sees this and doesn´t know what 
to do and all I can think is "what do you do when you have a monkey on your head?" 
Fortunately, as I was pondering my options, it took off into the jungle relieving me 
of the need to make a decision about what to do. That was not all for my head in 
Chapare, however. Sitting in a restaurant that night, with roosters and dogs and cats 
wandering around, I feel something land on my head, but when I ran my hands through 
my hair I didn´t turn up anything so I let it go. Three mintues later, Abby´s face 
contorts with horror and she says "it´s not a spider." 
Honestly, that was the best thing she could have said
because I caught sight of something bright green and 
defintiely in my hair out of the corner of my eye. Up
and out of my chair, knocked it off my head and it
turned out to be a tree frog. I must have the nicest-
smelling hair EVER. 
 




The week after that came Todos Santos on November 2. Back in grade school I knew of 
Día de los Muertos but never really got it. Don´t really know what the deal is 
everywhere else, but here in Bolivia, it was amazing. The day before, starting around 
lunchtime, I went with my abuela and Karina my "mom" (she´s 28) and the little girls 
around the neighborhood. In families where someone has passed away in the last three 
years, they set up an altar for the person in their living room or patio decorated 
with food, flowers, pictures, and bread. The idea is, as it was explained to me, that 
the person´s soul is tempted back to join the family by the food. Neighbors, like us, 
come around to visit with the family and the soul of the departed and are obligated 
to pray for the soul of the dead. The customary prayers are 10 Our Fathers, 10 Hail 
Marys, and 10 Glory Bes for each soul, usually it´s one departed but at one house 
there were 8...that´s a lot of praying. I didn´t know my prayers in castellano so I 
said mine in english which was a great novelty. The family of the departed thanks you 
and compensates you for your prayers (and this is where it´s like a strange trick or 
treating) with a small glass of wine and a plate of bread and cookies. You take a bag 
and collect bread as you go to eat for the next two weeks. You drink a lot of wine 
and a lot of chicha, this maize beer which is really not delicious. If you are close 
friends of the family you sometimes get fed too. I had a stomach infection and I was 
hurting, but I ate two full meals, two soups and drank more wine and chicha than I 
ever wanted to see in my life. Day two of Todos Santos is more of the same, some 
revisiting of the homes of close friends and then around noon, the altars come down. 
We were at our closest neighbor´s house. They fed us and then we and some other 
neighbors took down the altar by dividing up the bread and flowers and things on it 
and turning the tables it was set up on upside down. this is to confuse the soul so 
that it will go back to the cemetary when the family goes later that afternoon. The 
family of the deceased cannot participate in taking down the altar so they make 
themselves busy passing out what´s left of the wine and chicha. Apparently, you have 
to finish what´s left in the house, and because this is Bolivia, we made our offerings 
at the four corners of the altar to Pachamama before drinking every glass or gourd. 
The floor was such a mess when we left...After all of this we went to the cemetary to 
clean and decorate the tomb of Kari´s grandfather. Man, I´ve never seen a cemetary so 
full or so like a party. I mean, mariachis! If I had thought the chicha and trick or 
treating/bread collecting activities were over I was very wrong. We visited I don´t know 
how many graves to pray and collect our baked goods. It was amazing. It was very 
intense and I was very very sick but it was also very very cool and I loved having 
the opportunity to participate.
(Photos below: Todos Santos with the familia...extended)
Oh man, what next? This is way too long already so quick rundown. There´s been a first-
grade graduation, a stomach infection, I climbed to Jesus, got chased by a pug while 
taking my morning run, ate llama, haven´t seen one though, love of my world Abby left 
for the states, was very sad for a while, figured out how to get happy again though I 
still miss her crazy, all the presidents of Latin America are here for a meeting, the house flooded, 
the parents are building a new part of the house which is noisy and messy, Christmas 
is coming, work is good, am trying to develop a project, am learning quechua, saw the 
longest parade EVER (12 hours), made a Bolivian thanksgiving - lacked sweet potato, 
included chicken, AND...I think that´s all that´s happened here...I think. Dunno, it´s 
hard to say.

I don´t know what happened with my Spanish. I was cranky when I was sick because it 
was awful and then all of a sudden...it was like I saw the light. Still need practice, 
clearly, but I must have eaten something special or I don´t know what because I have 
just been talking up a storm the last week and a half. Thank God, too. I was starting 
to worry that I would be here ten months, get home, and still be crap. 
 
I´m off to Isla del Sol to take care of my visa with Danielle Kravetz (for you SLC 
people) this week and to Sucre and Potosi the week after that. May take off to Chile 
and Argentina after Christmas for 2 or 3 weeks...clearly I take my job here very 
seriouly...
 
Anyway, miss all of you, especially with Christmas coming up. I know number one on 
all of your wish lists is a ticket to Bolivia to come visit me. I feel like with a 
buddy, I could go find the llamas. I just need some support...Hope everyone is well 
and I´d love to hear from you all. I´m gonna try to get to my individual emails but I 
live for email and those who have tried will vouch for me, if you email me, I will 
email back!
 
I LOVE YOU!
 
LOVE!
 
Mollie

Reflections on Bolivia: Indigenous Women: clothing, labels, identity

There are a few things that have been bothering me since I arrived and especially since I began working with Pro Mujer.

The word “chola” or “cholita” makes my little Seattle native self really uncomfortable. The word refers to an indigenous woman and I understood it to be derogatory but I hear it ALL the time, so frequently that it cannot possibly be as offensive as I thought but I also hear a range of attitudes behind the word. My abuela uses it all the time affectionately, and while she is hardly a compass of the politically correct, she uses it in front of and in direct address to the woman she is referring to. It seems to be affectionate and I haven’t seen anyone take obvious offence. The loan officers at work use it in an offhand way to refer to socias but I haven’t seen them use it in front of their groups.

I asked María Elena about it but there isn’t a clear alternative to the word and it is very much derogatory, or at the very least can be. It’s the worst thing you could call someone but you can also use it without meaning anything by it. That doesn’t mean it’s right to use it but it’s not necessarily a slur every time I hear it. I’m going to make a conscious effort not to use it, but we’ll see how that goes. It’s so common.

Very interestingly, and perhaps disturbingly, I heard somewhere at work, in one of the centros focales though I don’t remember where, “la pollera” used to refer to an indigenous woman. The pollera is a certain type of skirt that some women wear and which visually identifies them as indigenous. How awful and interesting that her clothing should define her. How offensive I found this off-hand statement! When I asked Kari about it, she wasn’t bothered and simply said that it wasn’t common, but it was used.

It’s gotten me thinking about how some women dress in a way that clearly identifies them as indigenous but as far as I can tell, men don’t. At least not in Cochabamba. I’m finally really getting what we talked about in class last year as women being perceived as somehow “more indigenous” than men or as sort of keepers of the identity.

I talked to Kari and asked her about how women come to wear the pollera or don’t. She told me that as children, mothers make the decision for their daughters but as they get older and hit puberty, they make the decision, at least in theory. She said that she knows people who have made the transition and that it is very difficult and complicated for the individual and her family, especially for her relationship with her mother. Also, she pointed out that no one would ever make that decision without speaking excellent Spanish. She also said that being indigenous is easier for men because they don’t have to make choices about external identifiers so they can hold on more easily to their indigenity because it doesn’t result in a) having to make a clothing decision and b) being instantly identified one way or the other.

The Llama Chronicles: Life Continues

Hola All,

I´m sorry this second email has taken so long. It´s been a rough three weeks but today I started feeling better, a little more settled and like I can get on with life.

Since I last wrote, I saw my first huge South American spider and it actually wasn´t that huge. It was, however, on my bed. Points for that. We got rid of it and that was fine. I´ve also been out bunches to what seems to be the one club in Cochabamba, it´s the one all the locals keep wanting to go to with us, anyway and while it´s fine I have to wonder whether there isn´t more to this city...

Still no llamas, sorrow of my life, but apparently they live at higher altitudes (like 8250 feet isn´t high) so I´m just going to have to venture to La Paz or Oruro to see them, which is fine because I have plans for both. Llamas will be seen, or I wont come back.

What else...I´ve adjusted to the food. Thank God and am actually quite fond of it now. I get crabby around 12:30 if I don´t have piles of food in front of me which I never thought would happen back in my first week here. I still have meals where I wonder how on earth I´m going to get through it without being sick but those are much fewer and far betwen now. Yay! Also discovered salteñas. So wonderful.

The city is really beautiful. When I first stepped off the plane I was definitely a little overwhelmed because it is very different from anywhere I´ve been before. It´s not shiny like Berlin or old and orderly like Oxford, there´s no sea and everything that goes with it like in Croatia, and it definitely isn´t the US. But, once I started really looking at it, I noticed how cool it really is, assymmetry is lovely really and the whole city has this color about it, it´s like a sheen...like a sepia photo but this is like a creamy orangey-pinky color that´s really quite beautiful. Too, once you figure out how to do stuff in the markets and on the streets the idea of a supermarket is a little offensive. The thing that´s still tough for me is the water thing. We don´t have running water all day. We do have a tank but if it runs out we can be water free for hours and hours. Water gets stored in 2 litre pepsi bottles for doing dishes and things but taking showers, brushing teeth, all of these things I have to be so much more mindful than ever before. It´s so far beyond that whole turning off the tap while you´re brushig your teeth thing, it´s interesting and I´m surprised at myself how long ít´s taking me to adjust. The drinking water problem is the hardest though. To me, longtime hardcore fan of Seattle´s finest, this is a shock. You really gotta plan ahead or pay big time (ok, it´s relative) and I´ve been caught out dehydrated more than once.

Cutest thing. I was walking down the Avenida de las Heroinas downtown yesterday and spotted this baby girl who must have been about 10 months old sitting in a cardboard box behind her mother who was running one of the little stalls that are everywhere that sell gum and candy bars. Well, something about it struck me as both absurd and completely practical at the same time and I must have been smiling because she looked at me and started to smile and pull her self forward and up onto her feet in her box to get closer to me. People, after 3 weeks of being either ignored or stared at everywhere in public and at work to have someone smile at me like that was incredible. I can´t even express how amazing it felt. I stopped in my tracks and the two of us just beamed at each other for what must have been half a minute before her mother noticed me and looked at me like I was insane. I just said, "your daughter is beautiful" and went on my way but it made me happy all day.

So, on the work front. As I mentioned in my last email, I was a very unhappy bunny at my job. I was working with a great organization called Centro Cultural Tinku which does a whole lot of things. It runs a school/daycare for kids of low income parents, a restaurant and bakery which supports both the school and a lot of the parents as well as serve as training ground for skills necessary for working in a restaurant or bakery. Very very cool. Absolutely not what I had in mind when I committed myself to 10 months in Bolivia. I had planned on working with a microfinance organization. Preferably Pro Mujer which is an international organization that gives loans specifically to women on a Latin American group lending model AND provides some of the most extensive support and training services in health and business management of any similar organization. I spent 3 weeks making empanadas (seriously) before I went to the program director here and basically said that I didn´t think anyone had actually read my application and I resented the fact that people in the San Francisco office had lied to me (because they did) and I wanted to be moved to Pro Mujer immediately or we would need to talk about terminating my time with FSD in Bolivia prematurely. A weird week followed where I tried to create an unsuccessful compromise which had to be abandoned and today I started at Pro Mujer. What a world of difference. My supervisor is delighted I´ll be here for so long. She´s going to train me up as a supervisor so I´ll deal with loans, capacitation planning and implementation and other stuff and I´ll get to carry out a research project and evaluation which may result in a project depending on what I figure out and resource availablity, etc. the hard part now is that working for real requires a lot more spanish than messing around in a bakery all day, but I´ll just learn faster I suppose.

Life with the family is still an adventure. We´re settling into each other more and more and the fact that my spanish keeps improving makes everything better. We definitely have some issues. One is that the grandparents like to treat me like I´m about 15 in terms of independence and I have never in my life been treated like I was 15 in terms of independence, so this is a problem that we are trying to communicate about. The girls are interesting, the situation is complicated and Dayana is definitely 12 and likes to treat me like I´m stupid. She keeps forgetting that I a) understand more spanish than I speak and b) actually speak a fair amount of spanish so tends to talk about me as though I´m not there, which is offensive. She also seems to think that I can´t make decisions about...whether my window is open or shut, whether I want salt on my food or not, whether I actually need to go to work or not and likes to argue with me about these things that have nothing to do with her. It´s interesting and frusterating. Aside, though from these two things the family is incredible. Karina, the mom of the yonger girl is wonderful wonderful and we chat all the time which is just really great for me because I feel like I have someone here I can talk to who is a part of the culture so I can go ask why and how and what should I do and she has answers that are relevant. She really is lovely. The grandparents, aside from the control issues, are really sweet and fun and funny and the whole situation is great because when I go home I really go home to a family and someone is always there to ask how the day is and to chat and to worry and to play with.

Wow, I do like the sound of my own typing. Sorry all. I promise I´ll write again soon and it will be more interesting, more about, you know, Bolivia and less about my garbage. Again, keep the emails coming. I live for it. I really do. It´s the mot english-y part of my day and I revel in it! Also, I feel cut off and miss you people and would love love love to hear what´s going on in your worlds, seriously, make a dehydrated volunteer´s day!

LOVE!!!!!!!!

Mollie

The Llama Chronicles: Welcome to Cochabamba

Hola all from the land of Llamas!

This is to be the first of I don´t know how many emails that will chronicle my thrilling adventures here in Cochabamba, Bolivia. As many of you know, and some of you don´t, I´m here for about 10 months to with and organization called Centro Cultural TINKU, which I´m sure I´ll talk more about later, to learn Spanish, and to...well, I don´t really know what else. I suppose my primary goal is to see llamas in their natural habitat. My host family thinks this is hilarious. I think it is perfectly valid.

As it is, this first week has been llama free, but potato-rich and really interesting.

I arrived last Saturday in the morning after 4 flights and too many hours.

In La Paz, I had to transfer to a domestic airline called Aerosur, and what a disaster. I had one hour to get through customs and immigration, pick up my ticket and check in and get myself on the plane to Cochabamba. Actually, everything was fine up until the Aerosur line. This collection of people was not so much a line as a circus, and wasn´t feeling too hot what with the altitude and the sleep deprivation doing a serious number on my body. Fortunately and strangely, during this hour in line I started talking with two academics from Pennsylvania who actually knew one of my professors from Sarah Lawrence quite well. They helped get me through the line and onto the plane and thank God, too, because there was some confusion with my ticket. Apparently Glessner is not a common last name in Bolivia. Can´t imagine why not.

Anyway, I arrived in Cochabamba, got picked up by the program director here and dropped off with my new family, the Vasquez de Colques. They are incredible. The family consists of Don Dario and Doña Guida, the abuelos, their son Vladimir and his wife Karina, their daughter Ciria who is a devilish 5 year old and their niece Dayana who is 12. The house is a a series of rooms around a central patio and I have my own little adobe room which is lovely. The house is located to the north of the city in Barrio Colquiri Norte which is very chill and easy to get to from the city center. I have to say, this family is incredible. They couldn't have and wouldn´t have welcomed me any more warmly if I were actually related and they have made a huge effort to include me and introduce me around to the rest of the wonderful and huge extended family. (Photo: The Vasquez de Colque Women, Karina, Ciria, Me, Doña Guida, and Dayana)

(Photos: kitchen, garden, and my room)


The spanish has been an adventure but I had no opportunity to speak anything else, and I mean AT ALL until Friday, so my ability has just skyrocketed. I still say incredible and stupid things that even shock the kids, but all in all, it´s been pretty wonderful experience to learn this much this quickly.

So...My first week has been a huge learning experience. Lots of things I didn´t really think about are bigger considerations than I expected. For example, I knew that water was an issue here in Cochabamba and that the house would only have water for certain hours out of the day. But knowing and applying that knowledge in daily life is difficult and finding a pattern for simple things like showering has been a small challenge. Too, just having to think ahead more to be able to brush my teeth at night is new and I´m adjusting.

So, my first few days...wow, I´ve done a lot. So...to give you all a taste. On Sunday I went to mass way too early and then tried my first pasteles and api (fried dough with cheese inside covered with powdered sugar and a hot purple and white drink made from ground up maize). Traditional post-mass snacks here but hot juice stuff in the early morning was not my thing given the altitude and the amounts the family´s been feeding me. Monday, I went to La Cancha with Karina and Doña Guida. La Cancha is the big open-air market here which is incredible. You can find anything and everything there and I understand it´s actually the largest of it´s kind in South America. It was really fun and interesting to see all of the potato varieties and the fruits. I didn´t know cassava melon got that big. On Tuesday night I went with Vladi, Karina and the girls to play volleyball with Karina´s family. What this turned out to mean was that about 12 of us piled into a squash court with a net and ran around for an hour and a half trying to keep the ball of the ground, which is, I suppose, essentially volleyball. Apparently there were rules, though I have no clue what they were.

On Wednesday, I began work. For these first few weeks, I´ll go to work in the morning and Spanish lessons with a tutor in the afternoon. I don´t want to say much but at this point, work sucks but my tutor is incredible.

On Friday, I went to a meeting with the rest of the program participants, it was uneventful but after we went out and wound up at a coha Cohas take place the first Friday of every month in Quechua tradition and are a ritual where an offering is made to Pachamama, the earth goddess. People drink chicha, a beverage made from fermented maize and dance and sing and it´s incredible. I was invited to make an offering to Pachamama by dripping agua del fuego at the four corners around the fire . What I didn´t know was that you had to drink what was left in the little cup when you were done and, having never been one for rubbing alcohol, it was pretty rough on me. The dancing and everything was incredible, so fun and everyone was really welcoming and invited all of us to dance and I´d never experienced anything quite like it.

Saturday, I went to lunch with the Shermans, distant friends of the family who are here in Cochabamba as Maryknoll missioners with their two kids, Josh and Celia. It was really nice to meet other extranjeros especially ones who had been here so long. When I got home Karina rushed me out the door for her little cousin´s 8th birthday party. That was the best thing ever. The family is welcoming and kind and patient with my spanish and are so fun and the kids are so interested and love to help me learn and understand and it was just really cool. it´s interesting to see how family interacts here, how different it is and how important is is and how close it is. After that, Vladi and Karina took me to a wedding of a friend of theirs which was also amazing. I´ve still got confetti all over from when I went through the reception line.

Today, more extended family came to visit and I´m a little sick with a nasty stomachache which was bound to happen at some point.

Hope you all are well and an especial congrats to my christy-bug who I havent had a chance to email but will soon! For today, I am done!

llama besos!

Mollie