A Change of Plans
Today, Tuesday, August 30, I had normal plans for the
day. I was going to teach my three
classes, stay an extra class period to work on grades, and then go look for
the Mariposario, the Butterfly Garden. But
plans changed.
The morning started cold, very cold. I know you guys in the States laugh when I
say it is cold when the temperatures are only in the low 50s, but there are
some differences here. When it is this
cold it is often wet, and it is always windy.
Houses and buildings are built differently. They are basically cement and trap in the
cold. It is nice in the summer heat,
because it is always cooler in doors even without the air conditioning. But in the winter it feels like the
temperature drops by another ten degrees.
And houses are not heated here.
So a cold, windy, wet 50 feels like the 30s in Texas. I love this weather, though I am complaining about the cold.
On Tuesdays, the teachers start the day with prayer
time. It was good to get together with
people who care enough about their students to pray for them. I learned something about one boy who was
already on my heart. Now I can pray for
him better.
First period, British Literature, went well taking notes on
the Anglo-Saxons and working on vocabulary.
All seemed normal until the end of the period when my phone was
ringing. I missed the call, but saw a
message from Tabitha, the girl who is getting her immigration papers done with me. She asked why I wasn’t at
Migración, Immigration. I didn’t know I
was supposed to be there, was my response.
A moment later, literally, the high school principal called and said I
was supposed to be in Migración an hour ago.
So quickly I am explaining what I am doing in class to the
high school principal, who was taking my 10th grade class, and the
school director, who was taking my 9th grade class. My plans were mostly written for me, so I don’t
know what my director thought of my plans for 9th grade. I had a lot more for 10th, so I am
not worried about that. The good thing
about this is how my 10th grade started class. They had listened to me and came in ready to
work.
Now I am in a taxi rushing back home to get my passport,
then rushing from there to the lawyer’s office.
As I walk in, Francis, who is both my lawyer’s wife and a lawyer herself,
takes my passport and we walk across the street to Migración. Tabitha is there seated waiting for the next
steps to be done. She is frustrated
because today was supposed to be a busy day for her and now she found herself
waiting. About 5 minutes later I am
called to the desk. Francis stays for a
few minutes, but then leaves me to go back to her office. So I struggle through a few questions and am
done in about ten minutes.
I go back to the lawyer’s office and now have to wait for
Dr. Z to return from the bank. I spend
the next 30 minutes talking to a lady from Colombia. While I am here in South America, I hope to
visit a few other places, not just Santa Cruz.
She is from Medellin, Colombia, whose nickname is the City of
Flowers. She told me it is higher in the
mountains and is always cooler, temperatures in the 70s and low 80s during the
day and a little chilly at night. Because
of that, she said, it is in perpetual springtime and the flowers are always
blooming. She also told me to go to
Tarija, Bolivia, because the food is so good and the plazas are filled with
roses. Yes, I want to go to both.
The lawyer was back soon and both Tabitha and I were back at
Migración. We didn’t have to wait long
this time. This time we were getting
a picture taken and giving our thumb prints, and leaving our passports with Migracion.
We are supposed to go back in about three weeks, but for today, that was
it. For Tabitha, it was a long day. She got there around 8:00. For me it was just an hour.
The temperature had changed.
It was still cool, but upper 60s and it was sunny. Where to go?
What to do? Come back tomorrow
and find out.
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