Day 151 - The Cemetery

The Santa Cruz Cemetery

I know a lot of people freak out thinking of a cemetery.  I guess it is all the horror movies that abound today and the ridiculous idea that there are zombies.  In fact, cemeteries are often some of the most beautiful and peaceful parks that a city has.

When I was in college I dated a girl who told me she liked to take pictures of cemeteries.  I thought that was strange, until I went with her one Saturday afternoon.  We visited several of the small cemeteries in the Duncanville and Cedar Hill area.  They were simple places, mostly grass and tombstones.  But there were patches of flowers, lovingly planed there by families, or a bouquet left on a grave.  Sometimes you’d see pictures or flags.  It wasn’t scary at all.

Since then I have been visiting cemeteries in some of the places I have visited.  They often speak of the culture of the place that someone from the outside never really sees.  In Romania, the Merry Cemetery in Sapanta, showed the joy of life that they have in that place.

In Santa Cruz, family is so important.  I remember once teaching a class of 7^th and 8^th graders in the 80s.  It was half American/Canadian and half Bolivian.  When asked what is more important, family or friends, every one of the American said friends and every one of the Bolivians said family.  That is what they feel here.  They love their families.  If you manage to become a close friend, you will be like family to them.

So I introduce you to one of the loveliest parks in Santa Cruz.  It is so quiet here.  Amazingly it is on the First Ring, one of the busiest roads in Santa Cruz.  Yet you feel like you have entered a special cave where the sounds of the city have been blocked.  You can hear your own footsteps and the dripping of the rain.  The people who work here, cleaning and repairing, whisper. 

At times you will see a family visiting one of the tombs.  They arrive with things to clean what needs to be cleaned.  They will replace flowers.  You see the smiles on their faces.  They love the people that are here.  I have met many here with a deep religious fervor.  I know they are expecting to meet their loved ones one day. 

This is the hope I have.  This is one of the reasons I am a Christian.  This world is not my home, only a temporary stopping place.

“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed.  In a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet!  For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.”  1 Corinthians 15:1, 2.

Day 150 - Wisdom of the Ancients

Wisdom of the Ancients

The other day I was talking to Felix, the gardener at the SCCLC.  He does an amazing work.  The school is a beautiful garden.  He is a little old man.  By little, I mean I don’t think he is five feet tall.  By old, I mean he just turned 85.  I try to greet him every day and compliment him on his work.  He smiles and talks to me about his garden.

This particular day we were talking about it being a comfortable day in the mid-80s.  I was told, and vaguely remember, that October and November, and sometimes December, are very hot.  Close to 100, though not often topping 100.  This year we have had days in the 90s, but they have been followed by surazos, those cold winds from the south.  For this time of year that means comfortable days around 70 degrees.

I told him that the internet forecast was saying it would be in the 90s over the weekend, but in the 80s all next week.  He said that is because of the moon.  What?  So I asked him to explain.  I didn’t catch every word he was saying, but mostly because the moon is closer than normal this year it is blocking the heat from the sun.  Therefore, it would be a cool year.  It would also mean that we’d have less rain than normal.

Our Recent "Super" Moon

He went on to say that there are things which people knew in the past that scientists of today have forgotten.  Once, he said, an agronomist told him how he was planting things the wrong way and offered to show him a better way.  The plants, according to the agronomist’s method, were dead in just five days, but his way always works.  His plants thrive and bloom and bloom and bloom.

That made me think of what my grandfather taught me about looking at the moon to forecast rain.  He said when it is a partial moon think of it as a cup.  If the cup can hold water, it is not going to rain.  If it looks like it would pour the water out of the cup, it will rain.  If it is upside down, where it could hold no water, it can’t rain, because there is no water.  I thought my grandpa was crazy, but for decades now I have observed that he was right.  Though honestly, I don’t check the moon and rain together that often.  A few people have laughed at me when I predicted rain and it rained.  It works.  I don’t know how it works, but it works.

Felix knew that about the moon too.  He proceeded to explain it, but I couldn’t follow him.

My conclusion to this?  We have lost a lot of science as we become more scientific.  We scoff at the elderly because they are not as smart as us.  But they knew so much more than we do.  Our scientists can’t explain things so well built, like the Pyramids, Stonehenge, or the Nasca lines.  We can’t imagine that those before us could have more knowledge than we do and do amazing things.  We have knowledge today, a lot of knowledge.  They had wisdom in the past.  They did things in the past that still baffle scientists.  It is why some weirdos will say that aliens created the Pyramids or Stonehenge.  They can't imagine that man could do that. 

November is almost over.  It should be our hottest month here in Santa Cruz.  Today, November 29th, at 12:00 as I decide to post this blog, a surazo has just blown in.  It turned cold and started pouring rain.  A week ago, while at a birthday party for a friend, the temperature plummeted to 60, with hurricane force winds.  At the restaurant where we ate, the door blew off.  It might only have been 60, but it had a chill behind it of 40.  That is cold for this Texan.  It should be 95 degrees outside, but it feels like winter.

Pray for Don Felix, he has been sick lately.  I saw him hiding in a corner to throw up.  He is 85, but loves his work and wants to be at school no matter what.  When I told Yascara, the school secretary, she called his son to come pick him up and make him stay in bed a few days.  He is the reason my school is like a beautiful garden.

He is a wise man.  I want him around for a while longer.

Day 149 - The Castillo Azul

The Castillo Azul

A few weeks ago, when I was in Tarija, I saw from my hotel what I thought was a blue and white stripped church.  So one of my days there, I went searching for it.  It seems it was not a church after all, but a Victorian mansion.  Several friends suggested I do some research.  Hmmm?  Good idea.

It seems I am not the only one who has thought it was a church.  One of the owners tells the story that regularly when campesinos (people from the country) walk by that they cross themselves.  On more than one occasion, someone has knocked on the door to ask when is the weekly mass.  From a distance it does look a bit like a church.

It was built by the Navajas family around 1910 with materials left over from another house they built.  At the time, this house was outside of town, though today Tarija surrounds it.  It was bought by the Rengel family in the 1960s, who spent a dozen years restoring it to its Victorian glory days, or more accurately, early Art Nouveau.  They added further living quarters in the back, so no one lives in the house itself now.

Patricia Ibáñez, of El Pais, said that the Blue Castle is “imposing, disturbingly solitary and suitable for a ghost story.”  Objects are found moved from where they were the day before, or lost for weeks.  Sounds are heard in the middle of the night, like doors opening and closing, or footsteps approaching.  People who spend the night there report a feeling that they are not alone in a room.

Doña Bertha Reinoso, who lived there many years, recollects the many nights the dogs went crazy, barking in fear and desperately trying to escape from the house.  A neighbor borrowed their bread oven, found outside the house, and reported a shower in an unused bathroom turning on.  Sounds of furniture moving, things breaking, or heavy breathing, occurred often, though always nothing was moved, nothing broken, and nobody was present.  The stories continue until this day.

But with a clear blue sky, on a sunny Tarija morning in October, seeing the crisp blue and white house, that I thought was a church, it is hard to imagine ghosts and phantoms.  Instead I see a beautiful Victorian mansion gracing this lush valley in the Andes Mountains.

From elpaisonline.com

Day 144 - The Trial of Jack Merridew

The Trial of Jack Merridew

My tenth graders have been reading the novel, Lord of the Flies, by William Golding.  It is about a group of boys escaping war.  Their plane crashes on a tropical paradise and they are left to survive without any adults.  As the weeks pass, their paradise turns into a hell on earth, with two of the boys dying at the hands of the other boys.

It is a difficult book, but it has a great message.  The bible teaches that all men are born sinners.  Just as Adam and Eve, placed in a paradise, all men will sin if given the choice.  We all need to understand this concept, so we can see ourselves as we are.  At that moment, we recognize our need for a Savior.

To put an end to our book, we conducted a trial of the antagonist in the book, Jack Merridew.  Jack was a choir boy; skinny, red-headed, about 13 years old.  He at first supports the protagonist, Ralph, but as the book progresses, he believes getting food by killing a pig is more important than keeping a signal fire going.  So he breaks from the tribe, creating a new tribe with the purpose of getting meat.  That leads to the death of two boys, Simon and Piggy, and a hunt to kill Ralph.  Our trial was to decide if Jack should be jailed, executed, or set free. 

Siwon was chosen as our judge; a more fair and balanced girl you will not find.  Zac played the part of Jack (I did that because of the rhyme of the names).  Carlos, Juan Carlos, Sofia, Fabiana, and Kendra were our jury.

The prosecution team was a second Sofia and Aram.  At first they wanted to load down the case with too many charges against the accused.  I, the teacher, wanted a trial.  I did not want to see the case end in a plea bargain.  Aram wasn’t happy about that, but he did put up a good fight.

The defense team was Rodrigo and Liliana.  Both were passionate to see their client set free.

Abie, Santiago, Diego, Leo, and Nicolas played the roles of various witnesses.

It took us two days for our case to be tried.  This group is passionate.  They get in trouble a lot, but that is because they aren’t at school to be entertained.  If they have a firm hand and a teacher who believes in their worth, they will do whatever is asked.  They know if someone likes them or not.  I’ve said before that I love this class. 

Both sides fought to win.  At times they looked to me like they would get in a fist fight, but they only resorted to accusing each other of lying or changing the story.  We did finish the fight when the foreman of the jury, Carlos, pronounced Zac guilty, and sentenced him to juvenile detention until 18, followed by 4 years in prison.

Judge Siwon surprised them all when she changed the sentence to juvenile, plus 2 years in prison.

“Mister, can she do that?” 

“She’s the judge.”

We had a blast.  This is why I have been a teacher for the last 31years.

Day 143 - Shirley's Day Out

Shirley’s Day Out

Two of my friends at school, Mariela and Martha, told me this week that we were giving a surprise birthday party for Shirley.  She is a lady of about my age, that like me, has volunteered a year in Bolivia to help at the SCCLC.  She works as a general aide in the elementary school.  My Bolivian teacher friends have adopted her as one of their own, so they wanted to take her out for a nice meal.

They were leaving from the school, but since I leave earlier than them, I took a taxi to Urubó, a town across the river from Santa Cruz.  I have to tell you about this town.  It did not exist when I was here in the 80s.  There was no bridge across the River Pirai then.  If ever you wanted to go to the other side, you drove across the river (or more accurately, drove through the river).  Recently a bridge was built over the river in more upper class part of Santa Cruz, comparable to Highland Park in Dallas.  Across the river has exploded a new community of beautiful homes, resorts, golf clubs, equestrian track, and a bright new mall.  I feel like I have entered Southern California when I am there.

Across the River From Santa Cruz

I got there early and walked around the mall.  The weather changed about the time I arrived.  I was in a short-sleeved t-shirt, appropriate for November, since this is comparable to the August in Texas.  But this fierce wind dropped the temperature 20 degrees.  While taking a picture, I almost lost my phone.  It almost blew out of my hand.  At the restaurant we were eating at, the door blew off.  It was windy!

I arrived about 4:00 and the rest of the group, Martha, Shirley, Fernando, Mariela, Michaela, Ninoshka, and José, straggled in over the next 30 minutes.  They had chosen Fridolin, a local chain restaurant.  The founders were from Austria and moved here in the 60s.  Their original restaurant is on the First Ring, but now there are more across the city and country.  The food?  Awesome.  Delicious. 

A Bolivian dinner out with friends is not a quick meal, kiss each other on the cheek and say goodbye.  It takes hours.  This is time to get to know each other intimately, to laugh and to cry.  To develop friendships.  I said I arrived at 4:00 and we didn’t leave until 7:00. 

Shirley got a few gifts.  Mariela, Martha, and Ninoshka played a game that they ask the birthday girl three questions.  These are meant to get to know you better.  I broke in with my own question, “chocolate cake or carrot,” because they had those on the shelf.  Mariela shouted, “his question doesn’t count!”  I won’t embarrass my friend Shirley by telling the answers.  I think she enjoyed the evening.

José and Ninoshka drove me home.  Ninoshka is ever the Spanish teacher.  When I made a grammatical error she corrected me.  I like that, because it helps me learn.  José I had not really got to know before tonight.  He is a lover of history, like me.  He teaches Bolivian history and I got a lesson on the Battle of Pari (a blog coming your way soon).  They also know the family of the pastor of Los Mangales, the church I attended in the 1980s.  Pastor Raul has gone to be with the Lord, but Mary and her daughters are still around.  Maybe I will get to be reunited with them soon.

This is why I love Bolivia.

Day 142 - The Battle of Pari

The Battle of the Pari

This year, 2016, marks the 200^th anniversary of one of the bloodiest battles in the quest for independence in the Americas.  November 21, 1816 the forces of Ignacio Warnes, with his army from Argentina marched on Santa Cruz.  So today is the 200th anniversary of that important battle.

The other day I had the pleasure of dining with a group of Bolivian teachers from my school.  One man, José, teaches the Guarani language and Bolivian history.  I was telling him that a plaza near my house had just finished a mural depicting the Battle of Pari.  That led him to tell me about the battle.  I knew so little about it.  Actually I knew two facts.  It took place in 1816 and it was near the River Pirai.

Statue of Ignacio Warnes in the Plaza 24 de Septiembre

The history of independence of Spanish America is long and complicated.  Napoleon invaded Spain and set up his brother as king.  A rebel government fought against him in Southern Spain and that government tried to keep the vast colonies that stretched from the southern tip of South America to California, Colorado, and Texas in the north.  Brazil broke away from Portugal at this time.  Haiti broke away from France.  Following the lead of the newly independent United States, Spanish America revolted.  The problem was that Spain had kept their colonies separate, so they could never be united, even when they all desired independence.  Where would the capital be?  Havana?  Mexico City?  Buenos Aires? Lima?  The region is vastly different from place to place.  It could never be united and is why it is fragmented into two dozen countries today.

By 1816 the rebel forces were being pushed out of what is now Bolivia.  Warnes was sent north from Argentina to defeat the royalists.  He was a military man through and through.  His troops were well-organized and well-disciplined.  He could get them to march through rough forest or difficult mountainous terrain with ease.  And thus, he ended up at the gates of Santa Cruz de la Sierra in November 2016 with 1200 rebel fighters.

General Aguilera, who had just defeated Cochabamba at the Battle of Viluma, was sent to stop Warnes’ advance.  Many of his troops were veterans of the war with Napoleon.  So they had fought against, and defeated, the most powerful military machine of their time.  A force of 1600 men, including 500 cavalry and 2 artillery, were dispatched to defeat the rebels.

For seven hours, they fought on the plains outside of Santa Cruz.  As I am driving with José, he says, “This is the very spot the battle took place.”

“Do you mean here, where our car is at this moment?”

“Yes, this is where the battle took place.”

That sent a chill down my spine.  El Pari was a wide meadow stretching from the outskirts of Santa Cruz to the River Pirai.  Today it is prime real estate along the Fourth Ring.

It turned out to be the bloodiest battle out of all the battles of the American revolutions.  The American Revolution that created the United States saw 4000 total deaths.  The Battle of Pari saw over 2000 deaths.  Only a few hundred walked away from the battle alive.

Warnes was defeated.  On the battle field, he was declared an enemy and traitor to Spain.  He was beheaded.  Laughing in glee, the royalist troops who survived, only 200 in number, rode back into Santa Cruz with his head on a spike, where it was mounted for all to see what happens to enemies of the King of Spain in the Plaza Principal.

In the middle of the night, while one girl flirted with the troops to keep their eyes of the enemy’s head, another girl stole Warnes’ head.  She hid it in her home, not revealing she had it until after Bolivia won its independence a decade later.

I once lived on Calle Pari in Santa Cruz.  When it crosses Rene Moreno it changes its name to Warnes.  I never knew there was a connection between the two.  Today I realize Warnes died in the Battle of El Pari. 

Today, you can visit the Plaza 24 de Septiembre, the plaza that I talk about so often, and see a beautiful statue of Colonel Warnes.  Before tonight I saw a lovely statue and enjoyed he pigeons and flowering trees.  Now I will always go to the statue of Ignacio Warnes, understanding why it stands in the middle of this plaza.  He fought to free this people.  Two hundred years later, he is appreciated by me, someone who honors men who die for the freedom of others. 

So this is for you, Ignacio Warnes!

Day 139 - Simón Bolívar

Simón Bolívar

Simón José Antonio de la Santísima Trinidad Bolívar y Palacios is one of the greatest men in South American history.  He has a long name, but someone as great as he is deserves such a name.  He is the father of many South American nations, including Bolivia, which was named in his honor in 1825.  George Washington gave birth to a nation; Simón Bolívar gave birth to a continent.

When Napoleon conquered Spain in 1808, naming his brother the new King of Spain, the American colonies rebelled.  France did not have the resources to fight a multi-front battle across the Americas.  That created a climate of independence in the hearts of Latin America.

Bolívar began the rebellion in Venezuela, his homeland.  By 1813, he had wrested control of Venezuela from the Spanish, but civil war erupted even as he was El Libertador (the Liberator).  He was forced to flee to Jamaica, where he devised a plan for a united South America, with a British style parliamentary system.

He quickly returned to South America, fighting in numerous battles.  In 1821, he was able to create the Republic of Gran Colombia, which included Venezuela, Colombia, Panama, and Ecuador.  In 1824, he was declared dictator of Peru and a year later Bolivia was created and named in his honor.  These two countries became the Confederation of the Andes.

Bolívar had a dream of not only a united South America, but a land where all peoples were free.  This included freeing of the slaves of African origin in the Caribbean areas of Venezuela and Colombia.  He also wanted the peoples of indigenous origin to be free as well.  Bolivia, Peru, and Ecuador include the majority of their populations of indigenous origin, especially the Quechua, whose numbers are in the millions today. 

By the late 1820s it was obvious that his dream of a united South America would not be fulfilled.  His empire was collapsing around him and quickly broke into the nations of Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia.  The United States helped Panama gain independence 70 years later.  In 1830, he stepped down as the President of Gran Colombia, dying later that year.

He is still remembered as El Libertador across South America.  Every city in Bolivia has a statue of him.  Every city has a street named after him.  He is not forgotten.

I am learning a lot more about the independence of Bolivia.  More should be coming over the next days and weeks.

Day 138 - The Chiriguano

The Chiriguano Statue

The Chiriguano is a frightening statue on the rotunda of the Second Ring and the Avenida Grigota, which passing the Chriguano becomes the Doble Via la Guardia.  To the east of the statue is the crowded Ramada Market.  A little research and I find there is a story behind this statue.

The Indian stands defensively dressed only in the bow and arrows, repelling the attack of the Incan general sent to conquer the Guarani of the West.  Everyone the Inca had encountered they conquered with might or diplomacy.  These were to prove a different story.

They fought ferociously, defending their homeland from the invaders from the mountains.

One of the leaders of the Guarani was captured and brought before the general of the Incas, Grigota, stationed at the fort of Samaipata.  The general asked him to surrender and convince his people to do likewise.  The man refused.

“I chiri huano!” the general cried.  “Leave him tied up.”

The man was left tied up, naked.  The nights in Samaipata can be very cold.  That night was just such a night.  In the morning he was found dead from exposure.  To his people he would forever be a hero.

The Guarani of the West were never conquered by the Inca.  The Inca never made it farther east than Samaipata.  But the Guarani were eventually defeated, not by arms, but by the advance of the smallpox epidemic accidentally brought by the European invaders.

With this story, it is now one of my favorite statues.  I love those who will willingly die for their homelands, like this man.

Translated and adapted from an article on stcrzysustradiciones.blogspot.com.

Day 137 - The Modern Art of Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz Modern Art

Considering this is modern art, I doubt this blog will be well read.  That’s too bad, since art is one of the most definitive expressions of a culture.

Dallas has some pretty cool modern art museums, like the Nasher Sculpture Center, and across the county line in Fort Worth there is the Fort Worth Museum of Modern Art.  Both of those are large permanent exhibits in very interesting architectural settings.

Santa Cruz does not quite reach the level of sophistication of those museums, but that does not mean they are neglecting the arts.  It seems that Santa Cruz has a very interesting modern art scene. 

I have already told you about the Manzana 1.  I think they change their exhibition about once a month.  Today they had an artist that seemed to have a preoccupation with death.  Note the rows of rainbow colored coffins.

The Casa de Cultura, House of Culture, usually presents plays, but also has art exhibitions.  Both of these art galleries are free and rarely crowded.  It is interesting to see how the young artists of Santa Cruz see the world.