Where Jashton was born - literally...

Last Thursday we were able to visit where Jashton was born.  It turns out that the friends we stayed with in La Paz live a block from the clinic where Jashton was born, so when heading out to dinner on our last night in Bolivia we took a moment to swing by Cemes clinic... he's definitely isn't a baby any more!

Jashton proved to be quite the trooper as we filled a week with Bolivia.  From hiking miles, to rough roads, to dinners at 9pm, to events completely in Spanish, Jashton absorbed it all - I'm searching my cranium, but I don't recall him complaining once during the trip.  And that is impressive given the final 72+ hours of our journey.

We ended our trip with an activity level which far outpaced the first couple days.  Here's a quick re-cap.

on the Bus Cama

Wednesday night we were picked up by taxi to be taken to the bus terminal which was in a level of frenetic activity reserved only for special occasions.  This was holy week travelers.  It was packed, and hard not to get separated. Fortunately for Jashton, I'm head and shoulders above the crowd - and easy target to spot.

Once on the bus for the overnight 8 hr trip to La Paz it was a comfortable and peaceful ride.  The double decker buses have wide seats which recline and have a provided foot rest - other than the timid use of heat, it is a great way to travel.

In La Paz we took a taxi to the apartment of Tricia and Alfredo.  Tricia was a Hunger Corps with Food for the Hungry (FH) when we were there, and Alfredo was one of the top managers of FH-Bolivia.  You never know who God is going to pair up, and three years ago they married.  Tricia now works for Samaritan's Purse, and Alfredo is a developer building homes and multi-unit buildings.  It was fun to reconnect to both of therm, and they were wonderful hosts.  Thursday we explored Bolivian museums, artisan markets, restaurants, and city life.  It was a great day!  While it wouldn't be top on my list of places to live again, I sure like spending time there - La Paz is a city like no other!

After dinner I finished packing, and prepared for our departure to the airport at 4:30 a.m.  Just for fun (okay, I'm sure that's not what he was thinking) our taxi driver took us up the back way to the airport - it is decidedly not faster... we were the last in line at the ticket counter... but that didn't actually matter.

We flew to Santa Cruz, flew to Miami, changed to an earlier delayed flight to storm encircled Chicago - sat on the runway - but made it to Chicago by 9pm.  Rental car to Wheaton, night at my Aunt and Uncle's breakfast at 6:30am with more relatives (Dick, Marge & Mary), and then back to O'Hare.  A rather pleasant airport to use at 8:30 on a Saturday.... with a final flight to White Plains, NY, and a ride to Delmar.


But wait - There's more!  Arrival back enabled the completion of my preparations for the next day - Sunday, Easter Sunday.  The Sunday for the baptism of Jashton, Tobiah and a new friend within our church.

I hadn't really thought about how appropriate the theme of my sermon was when it came together - Wake Up!  On each leg of this crazy journey, I was able to wake up with excitement - because what was coming was worth it.  The message of Jesus, the message of Easter - is to wake up and become spiritually alive!  Jesus conquered the gloom and shadow of death and darkness, calls us to come awake, and gives us exciting things to do.  (if you want to hear the message, it is on the DRC website).  Then after time with my parents and other friends for egg hunts, dinner, presents, playing and clean-up (oh, and I rewired an electrical switch in there as well) - we returned home - and at that point I felt like the trip Jashton and I embarked on ten days earlier was complete!

Giesers, Carltons, Wests - Easter Dinner in Greenville!

It was an awesome trip!  Praise the Lord!

Where are you from? De donde es?

While buying ice cream bars to keep us going on our trekking through Cochabamba, some vendors struck up a conversation with Jashton. I had to intervene with some translation, but Jashton did a great job sharing his name, and then answering the common question question, “de donde es?” In Spanish Jashton said, “Nueve York.”

the house of Jashton's toddlerhood

Then I shared that he was born in La Paz, so for them, Jashton is from La Paz. In Bolivia you are from where you were born, and this works well in a society with very little individual mobility, and even less of family roots. In reviewing the photos from today I was hit by this photo. Jashton eating a saltena – a typical Bolivian food. It is a great image for me – seeing Jashton's Bolivian-ness. But is he Bolivian? What does that mean, what does it mean that he is American?

Okay, a photo pushes me into a bit of philosophy. Who are we really? What are nationalities but arbitrary political boundaries. So it comes back to “Where are you from?” For an American raised in a mobile middle-class, it is a bit clearer that it is not where we were born. But our mobility also makes our current residence a shallow descriptor of our identity. The pattern of the Israelites is that of paternity – who is your father? And those who study family systems lay most of all we are at the feet of our family. But I am taken back to a poem Jashton wrote for school earlier this year.

In poetic form, he was to write using the start of “I am from....” It was a list of fun and family, events and memories, places and people, but then he ended; “But most of all, I am from the love of God.”

De donde es?

Oh, yeah - I remember culture stress...

There is a great deal to like about Cochabamba.  It is great to be back, but today I had little reminders that it is stressful to live cross culturally in a developing country.  It typically isn't the big stuff, but a slow accumulation of small stressors that gets to you.  Today was a wonderful day, worked on the Easter worship service in the morning and then Jashton and headed out to get to know Cochabamba.

After four days here, it was about time to go into the city Jen and I used to call home.  We decided to save our walking legs and grab a trufi for the one mile trip down the hill.  The driver charged us 2 bolivianos, Sunday a driver charged us 2.50?  I was told the rate was 1.70 per person - but obviously for short trips it varies... but by how much and when?  Does it really matter?  No - we are talking the difference of 5 to 10 cents US - it is no big deal, just a little bit of ambiguity in your day - a tiny touch of stress...  It was the start of my reminders throughout the day.

Simon Bolivar & Jashton on the Prado

view of the marchers from Globos

We were took the next trufi into the city - when I ask the rate, will he tell the truth (he did), but exactly where does this route go, and why has traffic stopped moving?  We "bajar" and head into one of the garden plazas in the heart of Cochabamba (Plaza Colon).  Jashton and I walk up and down "El Prado."  Filled with restaurants, this is the place to be Saturday night, and nice for a stroll on a Tuesday...  As we head back toward Colon I notice something extra is happening.  There are thousands of protester parading by.  "But I thought everyone was happy? What are they do here?"  Again, no major impact on my non-plans of the day, but still, stress as we decide to take advantage of a restaurant with a view of the march.

Potato overload!

They have all passed in about 45 minutes (yes, it was a large march - but peaceful), things returned to normal, so we head into the market area of the city - the "Cancha."  I really like the trill of the chancha (literally translated it is "the playing field").  You can find just about anything in the cancha - from a dozen different varieties of potatoes, to 60" Sony flat screen TVs, to plumbing fixtures, to lingerie, to bolts of fabric, to cell phones, to cooking oil, to baby cribs.  After 9 years I could still get to where I wanted - Jashton and I made it all the way to the toy section (on the far south side of the cancha).  But is someone trying for my wallet?  How much should something cost?  I love the cancha - it is a good stressor, but a stressor all the same.

On the way back to the north side of town, Plaza 14 de Septembre is on the way - oops, that's where the march ended, and things are still going strong.  It is impossible for me to keep my head down here (being a foot taller than everyone), we quietly glide around the corner and away.  That wasn't expected.  Stressor.  Then I remember, the news on at the restaurant was reporting that the protesters were in la plaza principal - I should have understood that better, I should have put it together - stressors.

How much did I get ripped off buying that water?  Where can I make a telephone call?  Am I waiting at the right corner?  All reminders of what it is like to live here.  It is great to live here.  I had a great day, and it was fun be reminded of Bolivia.  Jashton was a super trooper as we walked all over.  But just know that those missionaries you support face some big challenges, but also deal with lots of little things as they sort thought a culture which is not their own.

One fun surprise - at one of our ice cream pick-me-ups, Jashton and I thought a fruity popsicle looked good, so we each got the same one - looked like strawberry - it was cinnamon!  (after our first licks I read the label)  We were both really glad I didn't read first - who would have thought a cinnamon popsicle would be a good thing?
If you happen to see one, get it, they're great.

Facebook Photo Album

Before any reflections on the day, you probably should see some photos - more than can easily fit in this blog.

I have created a facebook album of key photos from our trip to Apilla Pampa.  This community of around 1000 people is a two hour drive from Cochabamba (1 hour on pavement, 1 hour decidedly not).  Of all the communities where Food for the Hungry works, this is the one I visited the most.  I help in the construction (as a day laborer) of the FH center, and a school building here.  I handed out Bibles to all the kids in the community, and worshiped in the simple church here.  And we had a sponsored child through Food for the Hungry's child sponsorship program here.

Nine and a half years ago, while my parents and oldest sister were visiting, we made a family journey, connecting our family to Maria's family.  Today, Jashton and I were able to reconnect with Maria's family - bringing photos from that visit over 9 years ago.  Getting to know Maria's younger sister, Maxima.





Enjoy the photos - http://www.facebook.com/album.php?fbid=10150158467798861&id=736513860&aid=287453&l=8ea1f488b7 

Bolivia Day by bulletpoint (with photos)

Jashton wasted no time in getting to bed tonight. What a full day we had! This entry will go back to where the idea of a blog began – a web log.

• A piece to toast with jam and juice for breakfast before heading out at around 8:30 am.
• One mile walk down hill to the town – Tiquipaya.

• Walk through three blocks of Sunday morning market to get to the Trufi stop.

(a Trufi is like a fixed route taxi)

• Take the trufi into Cochabama ~15 minutes – Plaza Cala Cala where the International Church is.
• Sunday morning worship – close to 2 hours long – see previous entry

• Trufi back to Tiquipaya, spend some time in the market so Jashton can see it more.

• Decide to walk back up the hill to the Firestones (all the uphill trufies are full) Get an ice cream bar at a tienda along the way. Hot and sunny! Get back about 1:45.
• A bit after 2 the Firestones arrive back with charcha (best description – pulled llama jerky)

• Eat, and then a bus load of girls arrive from an orphanage for an Easter egg hunt.
• Jashton, Thomas, Maddy and I take them (age range 5 to early teens – all girls) on a hike to the river while the eggs are hidden.

• Easter egg hunt mayhem – help littlest ones find eggs

• 5:30 as the girls leave Jashton and I take a trufi down the hill, switch to another trufi heading in to Cochabamba for a family evening at CIC. 2 hours of songs, skits, information and more – mostly in Spanish (it is a bilingual congregation, and most of the contributors were native Spanish speakers)
• Head out of there around 8:20. We are hungry (no dinner yet), cold (the sun set taking its warmth), and a bit tired (we had walked miles). But I convinced Jashton to walk for a few blocks.
• 8:30 Got to a new trendy pizza place – ordered, realized we were both really thirsty, got dinner around 9pm and scarfed it down.

• Hailed a taxi, was blessed by a driver who offered a fair fare right off the bat (no meters, it all negotiated) and got back to the Firestones shortly after 9:30.
• On the gate was a note that we will be leaving at 7:45 to meet our ride from Food for the Hungry to visit Apilla Pampa in the rural areas – there don't seem to be blockades being organized for Monday.

Yes, it was a full day!

Tears of Emotion

This morning as a joined my voice with about three hundred other people in worship, songs transitioning from English to Spanish and back again, I began to cry.  They weren't tears of sadness, they weren't tears of joy, the best I can describe them is as tears of emotion.  The whole package of seeing God's hand at work, reconnecting with my past, participating in worship where I didn't have responsibility, a sense of "how amazing is this," and  more seemed only able to express itself in tears.  For simplicity's sake, I'm glad it happened then rather than during my few minutes before the congregation.  (I had to snap three shots from the platform to capture the congregation)

Cochabamba International Church is a wonderful place.  It is now what we only dreamed it could be when it started ten years ago.  This morning I compared the time I was involved to infancy.  Fun, exciting, and cute, but an infant can't do much of anything.  There can be dreams, but they are down the road.  However, as anyone in early childhood development will tell you, the first 5 years are critical.  They define so much of what follows.  It is a joy to see what has been build upon the foundation laid years ago.

For some reason over the years I have transferred from one PDA to the next a copy of the vision statement we wrote in the first six months of existence of CIC.  It is still there.

Here is what it said:

A biblically based community empowered by the Holy Spirit to glorify God by:

• Sharing the life changing good news of Jesus Christ
• Nurturing and connecting the internationally minded in Christ
• Serving the need of our world.

With Wick - who was also on the original leadership team.
He came back as well and delivered the sermon this morning.

By the grace of God this has happened.  The church has sent out missionaries, connected to college students, brought together internationals and internationally minded (over 50% of the congregation is Bolivian).   In many ways the church is now somewhere in adolescence.  It will be a joy to see where God takes this congregation as it moves into the future!


PS.  Out of the whole congregation only a handful of people had ever seen my face before, however, to my surprise the small group Jen and I started is still in existence!  They have become "true friends in Christ."

I didn't see it, but Jashton did...

 What is Jashton seeing and thinking as he enters this new world, so different than anything he experiences is the USA?

I asked him after settled into our room what he noticed on the way up to the house.

"Dogs"

That was his answer, all the dogs wandering the streets.  Of all the things I would have guessed (road quality, dress of people, vegetation, sights & sounds, etc) I don't think I would have even thought to put dogs on the list.  Once you are down here for any length of time (apart from a phobia of dogs) you just take them for granted - you are aware of them, but you don't "see" them.

Today while walking I grabbed some shots of the neighborhood dogs.  I'm drawn to the backgrounds, but Jashton sees the dogs.  It is a joy to travel with a fresh pair of eyes.