July 8, 2017 - Monte Blanco

Monte Blanco 

Imagine sitting on a hill, under the blue skies with green farmlands stretched before you, surrounded by the hills of the eastern Andes, on a clear, cold morning.  The sounds are not typical of the city, song birds, parrots, and macaws, as well as a dog barking and a cow lowing.  The sound of a car or motorcycle happens about once every 5 or 10 minutes.  Mostly it is quiet.

A few weeks ago, I went to Monte Blanco.  Today it is a Christian camp, that sees tens of thousands of teenagers passing through its gates each year.  It is the largest camp of its kind in Latin America, and one of the largest in the world.  Thousands of lives are changed through its ministry each year.

I had breakfast with Tim and his crew this morning.  The men and women responsible for running this camp took a week off to gather together and evaluate their program.  What works.  What is a failure.  What needs to be improved.  I was invited to visit, but I am not part of their group, so I went exploring.

Monte Blanco originally was a missionary boarding school called Tambo.  At one time, the only option for missionaries was either home school or a boarding school.  My friends Tim Ramsey, Anna Foster, and Lance Gregory called it home for many years.  Anna taught here as many years as she went to school here as a child.  

I wandered up the hill, being told there is a cemetery near the airfield (that was how many children arrived at the school).  Anna encouraged me to look for it.  I don’t think she now knows there is a trail marked by arrows to guide me to it.  I easily found it.  My first emotion was excitement that I found it, but moments later I felt flooded with grief, respect, and reverence.  Even as I type this a few weeks later, I am overwhelmed.  There was a girl who was just 17 buried here.  She was a student of the school.  Tim’s dad, a veteran missionary for 60 years is also there.  There are about 10 graves, maybe more.

What struck me is that these are true giants, men and women who gave their lives for the gospel.  These are the people who loved Bolivia so much that they stayed here through adversity, like losing a teenaged daughter.  They didn’t give up when difficulties, hardship, or persecution hit.  They deserve respect.  I felt a reverence here, as if I had stumbled onto holy ground.  And I did.  How many prayers went up for the children here over the decades?  I bet tens of thousands. 

Maybe this is why the songbirds call this home.  They too want to be in a place sanctified by the saints who served here.  They want to be in a place covered by prayer.

Is this what Heaven will be like?  I don't know, but I found myself in the heart of Bolivia.

July 6, 2017 - A Busy Weekend

A Busy Weekend

My weekend included gorging on ice cream while listening to the son of a friend play the guitar at a local restaurant, eating a delicious lunch and walking in the river, and coffee with several of the seniors at the SCCLC.

Saturday evening, I was invited to listen to Diego, the son of my former student Jimena, play the guitar at the Cuore di Latte, a little restaurant near the Cristo monument.  I’ve run into him a few times while exploring the city.  Not only is he a good guitarist, but he is a fantastic amateur photographer.  If you are on Instagram look for santacruzdelasierraoficial.  Dinner with Jimena’s family was fun.  The kids played a game of what dip goes best with French fries – water seemed to be the crowd favorite.  

Sunday, I went to church, but had plans for lunch with Martha, a teacher at the SCCLC, and her friend Kimberly.  She is a young missionary working with children with disabilities, a good Christian, and fun to be hang out with.  We had lunch at the Cabañas de Pirai, an area at the river with dozens of restaurants.  We had soup, grilled pork, and loud music.

After lunch, we walked to the river.  At this time of year, it is dry enough to walk across.  There is a tradition that if you have walked across the Pirai River you can call yourself a Camba.  I did cross it several times in the 80s, but that wasn’t good enough for Martha.  She made me do it again.  This river flows north, eventually joining the Mamore, the river I was on last week in the Beni.  It continues north, absorbing dozens of Bolivian and Brazilian rivers until it finally joins the Amazon near Manaus.  The Pirai, during the rainy season is a big river, easily dwarfing the Trinity.  The Mamore, even in the dry season, is huge.  I cannot imagine the Amazon.

Monday morning, I topped off an enjoyable weekend by meeting three of the recently graduated seniors of the SCCLC at the Café Patrimonio.  Jisu had planned this for a few weeks, but what he didn’t count on was temperatures in the mid-50s and 30mph winds.  With humidity, that is bone chilling.  The cold led them to discuss the winters where they will be studying.  Shekinah will be in Tennessee and Sarah in Ottawa.  Sarah will be cold.  Jisu is planning on studying in Victoria, BC.  I don’t think he realizes yet that hw is going to be in one of the most beautiful places on the planet.

I ended my morning by meeting Melissa at the SCCLC.  She was here as a SAM missionary, teaching high school literature.  She is an amazing teacher.  For fun, she rewrote the 4^th Harry Potter book from the point of view of Hermione.  She can’t publish it, of course.  There are copyright laws about that.  But she printed it for friends who were willing to pay the cost of printing it.

I’d say this was a busy, but interesting weekend.

July 5, 2017 - Life on a Park Bench

Life on a Park Bench

“You came back,” Marcos the waiter said as he served me my soup.

“Of course, I did.”

My plan for today was to have coffee at the Café Patrimonio, visit with a few friends at the SCCLC, and then have lunch in La Guardia at the little restaurant on the Plaza.  Not all went as planned.

I did have my coffee at the Café Patrimonio as planned.  The sun vanished as soon as I arrived.  The temperature dropped, but it didn’t start to rain.  That was a good thing.  I take a notebook with me on the days that I go exploring, in hopes that I’ll find a quiet corner to write.  Some days I manage to write ten pages or more.  I don’t edit, I just let the ideas flow.  But this morning, my family and friends were texting me, so I didn’t get a lot done.

I went to the SCCLC to drop off a book to Matilde, and to talk to Debbie and Mariela.  School is out, so I assumed they’d be working in their rooms.  But this is a Christian school.  They were having a time of prayer in the chapel.  So I left the book with Rolby at the gate.  I’d have to visit another time.

So now I was early getting to La Guardia.  It was only 10:30 when I arrived.  My restaurant would not be open for at least an hour.  What to do?  Plant myself on a park bench, enjoy the breeze, watch the ladies cleaning the plaza, listen to the kids in the school, and write.

For the next hour that is what I did.  I have finished Onesimus, and have started another novel.  This one is about a third completed, since I was working on it the fall of 2012.  But I have two other idea dancing in my head.  One is about Mary, the mother of Jesus.  I came up with the idea of Luke interviewing her.  There is more about Mary in Luke’s writings than anywhere else.  He said he investigated these things, so I assume he must have spoken to Mary.  I also have an idea for a novel about Pharaoh’s daughter, who adopted Moses.  

For an hour and a half, I wrote about Pharaoh’s daughter.  I have an outline for the book, as well as the opening chapter when Pharaoh orders the death of the Hebrew children.  

With three novels in my head, I have decided until one surfaces, that I will spend two days each week working on Mary and two days on Moses.  Since Remembering Sorrento is further along, I will do three days a week on that one.  It is kinda fun having several ideas coming out at the same time.

I saw the gate to the restaurant open, so I finished my thoughts and ambled over there.  I didn’t see Marcus, the waiter from last week, but a lady was right there to get me the best meal possible.  They serve a traditional Bolivian meal.  It starts with a soup.  On the side is boiled yucca, which I love to pile hot sauce on top of it.  They have two choices for the main meal, which they call Segundo.  I chose chicken, which came with rice and chuño, a type of potato.

Within five minutes of my arrival, the restaurant was full.  Everyone who came in greeted me, sitting close to the door, with “provecho,” which means enjoy your meal.  Such is life in a small town.  A TV was playing the Simpsons.  My back was to the TV, but several in the restaurant were following the antics of the characters and laughing.  There were no children here, only adults on a lunch break.

Marcus brought me my chicken after I finished my soup.  He was glad that I returned.  I guess he doesn’t see that many foreigners or writers sitting in his restaurant.  

To me the meal seemed quick.  It was over before I knew it.  But I looked at the clock on my phone and realized I was there an hour.  I have slowed down my pace.  An hour at a meal seems fast, especially at a place like this.  

The bus to La Guardia and back cost less than a dollar.  The meal, including a tip, costs less than $3.  I don’t know how long I will remain in Bolivia.  Six month?  A year?  The rest of my life?  But I do know that I will be back to this restaurant in La Guardia once a week.  It is worth a hundred times the $4 that it costs me.

July 4, 2017 - A Hot Day in the Beni

A Hot Day in the Beni

The last two months, I have become accustomed to nights in the low 60s and days only occasionally topping 80.  In the Beni, the sun rises to a morning already in the mid-70s.  It is humid and there are lots of mosquitos who feast on Gringo meat.  I still had itchy ankles a week after I left.

I only planned on staying two full days at Trinidad, planning on going back to Santa Cruz on the third morning.  After breakfast, I looked at a few places around the cathedral, and walked around the cathedral too.  By 9:30, I had pretty much seen all there was to see in that area, so I would have to explore if I wanted to see anything else.  By 9:30, even on the shady side of the street, I was drenched in sweat, and I was not seeing anything that special.

I started a new plan.  I would find a taxi and have him take me to a few museums I was told about.  There is supposed to be a fish museum at the university and an ethnological museum near there.  But there were two problems with that plan.  First, there are few cars in Trinidad, and fewer of those cars are taxis.  There are millions of motorcycles, but few cars.  I walked a mile in the sun before I encountered a taxi. 

My second problem was that I did not know it was a national holiday, Corpus Cristi.  The taxi I finally found drove me to both, for me to discover that both were closed for the holiday.  I had him drive me back to the hotel to cool off and asked if he’d pick me up at 11:30 to take me to lunch at the lake.  That ended up being the highlight of my day.  The lake had a bit of a breeze and the meal was cheap and delicious.

I took a long nap, deciding not to venture out until 6:30, once the sun had set.  By then it was comfortable enough to escape out of doors.  I discovered that the Plaza was blocked off and a crowd had gathered on one side of the plaza.  There was a parade that was preparing to circle the plaza.  People were dressed in traditional outfits of the Moxos Indians, white robes that hung to the knees, sandals, and a hat that looked like the rays of the sun.  A few ladies were dressed in bright dresses of every color under the rainbow.  

I went over to study the procession and heard the priest pray.  He invoked the Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the blessed Virgin.  It made me sad that this priest was teaching something heretical.  Mary is not part of the Trinity.  She was a woman, one who had to accept Jesus like anyone else, though I think she was a believer her entire life.  Twice Jesus corrected people about revering his mother.  She is not to be placed on a level even close to God.  That is idolatry.  We are to worship the Creator, not the creation.

Well, because of the procession, the few places that were open the night before were not open.  I encountered the first place in Bolivia I was ready to leave.

Home never felt so good the next day. 

July 3, 2017 - The Syrian

The Syrian

Sometimes a chance meeting can change you.  Today I met someone that changed my opinion on an issue that I thought was closed in my mind.  I met a young Syrian refugee.  My view on the Syrian refugee crisis has done a complete 180.

Yesterday, if you had asked me, I would have told you that we should do everything in our power to shut off the flow of refugees from Syria to the West.  It is too dangerous.  Just who is crossing that border?  So let’s close our borders to them.

Today, I say that answer is not so simple.  

Mejd is a young Syrian who has been traveling in Peru and Bolivia the last few months, something five years ago he never imagined he could ever do.  He was on the boat with me on the Mamore River, a tributary of the Amazon.  When he said his name, I could see the look on his face that said I’d be another American who either hates him or is afraid of him.  If you know me, you know I am neither.

As we floated down the river, I watched his amazement as we encountered monkeys, birds, and dolphins.  He was enjoying it more than me.

After a few hours, I got the nerve to ask him to tell me his story.  Then almost immediately, I apologized, saying his story was none of my business.  He assured me that he was happy to tell me.

In 2013, he and part of his family made the decision to flee Syria.  At his age, he feared that one side or the other would force him into its army.  He told me there is no black or white with them.  Neither side is good and both are evil.  He said I might have heard differently, but both sides are an evil gray mass.  If he were to serve in either military, he would be forced to commit atrocities and kill innocent lives.  Eventually he would have died, because both sides expect their soldiers to fight to the death.

So he fled his country, managing to cross the border into Turkey, where he and his family were not accepted.  One thinks that they are all the same because they are all Muslim.  But that is not true of them any more than it is of Christian nations.  White Americans are afraid of our brown neighbors to the south, though we are both Christian.  Turks don't trust Syrians.  His family kept going, eventually crossing the Aegean with 30 other people, all terrified that they would die at sea.  They made it to Greece, but were forced across the border into Macedonia.  There they applied for refugee status.

He is a refugee in the Netherlands.  He has to work and has worked hard to make his own money.  He can study, something denied him in Syria, because there he doesn’t know the right people.  He met a Dutch girl and they fell in love.  If you see them together, you’d know they love each other.

One of Mejd’s dreams was to see the Amazon, so he worked and saved his money.  He and Lieka, his girlfriend, are traveling from place to place, working to pay room and board.  They have already been at Chuchini for three weeks.  

I don’t know what the future will hold for this young man, but today I understood what being a refugee means, and what freedom looks like.

I probably didn't do justice to his story, but I wanted to share it with you.

July 2, 2017 - Chuchini

Chuchini

Efren picked me up at the hotel right on time, but immediately questioned me on the way I was dressed, in shorts and a light shirt.  Later I would understand.  

We drove out of the city on ever decreasingly paved roads, eventually coming to muddy pits that made me wonder if I’d have to get out and push.  But we quickly turned a corner and a little slice of paradise was in front of me.  

I paid for a day tour.  It began with a traditional breakfast of something similar to sonso, I think they called it masaca.  I was dining with a girl from the Netherlands name Lieka and her boyfriend, a young Syrian man named Mejd.  They had been at Chuchini for two weeks or more, doing some volunteer work and enjoying the scenery.  

Quickly we were on the boat, heading out in the lagoon and later on the Ibare River.  The trees were full of birds of every sort, parakeets, vultures, cranes, wood peckers, king fishers, egrets, and dozens of others whose names I can’t remember.  We also saw alligators, capybara, capuchin monkeys, and howlers.  

It wasn’t long before we spotted a pink dolphin.  Yes, there are pink dolphins.  They are fresh water dolphins that inhabit the Amazon River.  They are not as pretty as the bottlenose dolphins, but they are curious and they are pink!  They also don't stay above the surface enough for me to get a picture!  I ran my phone's battery down trying to get just one.

After several hours on the boat, we stopped for lunch at a sand bar on the Mamore River, which is huge even in the dry season.  Well actually a mud bar.  Mejd was light enough that he could almost run across it, but the moment I touched it, I was knee deep in the mud.  I thought I would never get out of it.  I understood why Efren suggested I dress differently. 

Apparently, the tour included a mud bath.  Efren, his wife Miriam, their two kids, Mejd, and Lieka all covered themselves in the black mud.  Miriam’s mom, visiting from Switzerland, and I sat in the boat and chatted.  How they got that mud off still amazes me, but they all swore it was good for the skin.  But next time I will be prepared for a mud bath.

We planned to go fishing, but never caught anything, that is except one tough looking fish.  As we were all about to doze going down the river, a fish jumped over the side of the boat.  Mejd saved the day by capturing the fish, whose teeth convinced me that I will never go swimming in those waters.

Once we were back at the resort, Lieka and Mejd went swimming.  I guess if I was young it would be exciting to swim in alligator infested waters.  I, on the other hand, went on a tour with Efren.  I was first shown the artifacts recovered on their hill of the Moxos culture.  After that he introduced me to a few rare native fruit trees and some animals that had been rescued, howler monkeys and coatis. 

I discovered they have cabins if someone wants to stay longer.  Efren also does walking tours into the jungle that take three or four hours.  At night, he will take you on his boat to hunt for alligators.  The resort forbids you to go swimming after dark, because that is when the gators come out to play.

I decided, since there was so little to do in Trinidad, that when I return one day, I will just go to this resort for three or four days.

Never once did Efren and Miriam treat me like a customer.  In the spirit of Bolivia, I was treated like family.  It is what I love most about Bolivia.  Will I go back to Chuchini?  I hope so.

 

 

July 1, 2017 - A Rock So Big!

A Rock So Big!

One of the arguments against the existence of God is omnipotence.  That is a word that means all-powerful.  God is usually described as being all-powerful.  As a Christian, I believe this.  One of the more popular arguments against omnipotence goes something like this.  Imagine the following converstion.

Christian: God is omnipotent.

Philosopher: What does that mean?

Christian: God is all-powerful.  He can do anything.

Philosopher: Can God do anything?

Christian: Yes, He can.

Philosopher: Can God create a rock so large that he cannot pick it up?

Christian: Of course.

Philosopher: Then I just proved your god is not omnipotent.

Christian: How so?

Philosopher: Because he can’t pick up that rock.  He is not powerful enough to do that.

Christian: Wait!  Let me rephrase that.  He can’t create a rock that big.

Philosopher: Then your god can’t do everything, so he is not omnipotent.

In this scenario, the philosopher just stumped the Christian.  You might have encountered this or you might one day.  So it is important you know how to answer this, because both are wrong.  The problem with this is that some vital information is missing.  Neither understands God’s nature.  God has a nature that He works in, as does the entire universe He created.

Here are some examples of operating within something’s nature.  As a human, I can run, but I can’t outrun a cheetah.  I can swim, but can’t outswim a dolphin.  I can see, but not as good as an eagle.

Likewise, God has His own nature.  His omnipotence must be considered within his nature.  God for example cannot lie.  Within his nature is truth and honesty.  In John, Jesus proclaimed that He is the way, the TRUTH, and the life.  His nature is honesty.  The idea of creating a rock so big that God cannot pick it up is a paradox that atheists use.  Basically a paradox is a lie.  God cannot create something bigger than himself.  But that does not negate His omnipotence.  He can do anything that is within his nature.

Matt Slick says it like this, “Not being able to do this does not mean He is not God, nor that He is not omnipotent.  Omnipotence is not the ability to do anything conceivable, but the ability to do anything consistent with His nature and consistent with His desire within the realm of His unlimited and universal power which we do not possess.”

God cannot violate His own nature.  If He did, He would be contradictory.  If He were contradictory, he would not be truthful.  So to create a rock this big contradicts God’s nature of being truthful.

Take a look at the definition of a rock.  “A large piece of material that has become detached from a mountain or cliff.  Mineral material forming part of the surface of the other, or another planet.”  A rock is smaller than a boulder.  A rock, by definition, is not infinitely large.  It is a part of something.  So the question does not make sense considering the size of a rock.

We likewise can find a definition of God.  It includes being the creator and sustainer of the Universe.  Most Christians would agree that God is bigger than the Universe that He created.  Even people who do not believe in God, believe that the definition of God means someone bigger than the Universe.  So if God is bigger than the Universe, how can He create something bigger than Himself?  If He is the biggest, how can there be something bigger?  If He is the strongest, how can there be something too difficult for Him?  The idea of a rock too big for God is contradictory to the nature of who God is.  He cannot do something contradictory, because contradiction is a lie.

God is not illogical, though this question is if you know who God is.  God is truthful, so he cannot create a paradox.  And yes, God is omnipotent.

June 30, 2017 - Afternoon in Trinidad

Afternoon in Trinidad

I don’t know if you are like me, but when something is about to happen, I don’t sleep the night before.  The first day of school, the last day of school, or going on a vacation.  I had to be up this morning at 5:30 and in a taxi by 6:15 to get to the airport on time.  So I didn’t sleep last night.

I had a dream about two boys I taught a few years ago, Shelby and Angus.  Denise will remember them.  In my dream, I was administering the STAAR Test to them, but nobody else.  Shelby kept leaving, something not surprising for him.  I would look up and he was gone.  So I had to take Angus with me to search for him.  Then I’d turn around and Angus was gone.  Those boys might have done that in real life, but at least they won me the kickball trophy after two decades!  So who cares, right?

That was the dream I remember when I woke up at 11:30.  I also woke up at 1:00, 3:00, 3:45, 4:30, and 5:15 before my alarm went off at 5:30.  So I was tired when I arrived in Trinidad at 11:00.  By 1:30, after my meal of alligator, I was asleep in my hotel room. 

The brilliant blue sky, the grey and white clouds, and the gentle tropical breeze, all were calling me to explore.  Thus, around 4:00, I escaped from my air-conditioned hotel room to learn a bit more about the city of Trinidad.

I had seen two little plazas as I entered the city and decided to look for them.  Trinidad is not that big of a place, maybe 100,000, so using my map app on my phone, helped me find both easily.  One was dedicated to the heroes of the Chaco War, but it was run down and not very clean.  The other was a bit cleaner.  It was dedicated to the ranchers in the Beni. 

Walking around the city, I noticed a few things. 

Every street has a deep rain gutter for the rainy season. 

There are about 20 motorcycles for every one car. 

Drivers will motion you across the street, unlike Santa Cruz where they might run over you. 

About half the buildings look like they are about to crumble. 

Trash and dog poop is everywhere. 

In Santa Cruz, you see people wealthier than what you’d expect to see in Dallas, but here they are poor. 

But I also noticed these people say hello as you walk down the street. 

By 5:00, people are sitting outside their door enjoying the approaching evening. 

And last, nothing, absolutely nothing is open at 6:00 for dinner, nor are there that many restaurants.  I finally found one that would seat me at 6:30 and ended up going to that place again the next night.  It was still almost 7:30 before I was served my meal.  

Is this a city I could live in, like I said I could in Tarija, Sucre, or Cochabamba?  At the moment, I don’t think so.  I feel out of place and a bit lost.  

But that could be because I am tired and hot.

 

June 29, 2017 - Trinidad

Trinidad

When we broke through the clouds, I saw water and green.  Rivers, streams, lakes, ponds, and swamps as far as the eye can see.  Forest green, lime and emerald, and even neon.  That was my welcome to the tropical rainforest of the Beni.  From here, stretching thousands of miles is the Amazon River Basin, a rainforest that takes up more than half of South America, and about half of Bolivia.

And there are a million motorcycles here!  I walked out of the airport and a dozen motorcycles were offering me a ride.  I am not quite prepared to die, so I asked for a car.

My first impression of Trinidad is that it looks like the Old West, with dusty roads and buildings that look like Old Mexico, adobe with wooden posts.  Except here are millions of motorcycles.  Trinidad was founded in the late 1600s, but flooding has forced the city to move several times.  Trinidad is built on vast plains of the Mamore River.  It is flat, so when the river swells, being fed by almost every river in Bolivia, the city floods.  Open drains surround every building and are on every street.  This is necessary to divert the water during the rainy season.  Dikes have been built in several places to control the flooding, though every year the streets look like Venice and cattle are drowned in the farmlands.

And Trinidad is hot.  I knew it was going to be hot, but still it hit me.  There is not the steady breeze like we have in Santa Cruz.  The rainy season is past, so it is dusty.  I realized I was going to have to be creative to survive the heat.

My hotel is plain on the outside, but my room was one of the nicest ones in Bolivia that I have stayed in.  The air conditioner worked well.  The bed was comfortable.  The room was clean.  There was even a little terrace outside my room.

I was starving when I arrived.  My first goal after finding my hotel was to find a place to eat.  The crowded plaza had no places open to eat at 11:15.  I searched for a taxi (car, not motorcycle) and eventually found one.  I told the driver I was hungry.  He asked what I wanted to eat and I suggested alligator.  I know you might laugh, but the Beni is swarming with alligators and is famous for chicharron de lagarto, fried alligator.

The little restaurant was slow, but I didn’t care.  Soon a plate full of alligator, rice, yuca, and fried banana arrived.  A truly tropical meal.  I will admit, this alligator tasted like chicken.  I might have been tricked.

June 28, 2017 - Off to Trinidad

Off to Trinidad

Before you assume that I’m going to Trinidad in the Caribbean, there are Trinidads everywhere, even a Trinidad, Texas.  I did visit Trinidad in the Caribbean, but that is a whole different story.  Trinidad, Bolivia is the capital of the Beni department in northern Bolivia.  It is more tropical than Santa Cruz, with nighttime temperatures around 70 and daytime temperatures, even in the winter, topping 95 degrees.

I left early.  Getting a taxi wasn’t a problem, I actually stepped out of my apartment building at 6:15 to flag one.  The taxi wasn’t a problem, but I did discover one when I got my boarding pass.  I don’t have a direct flight, but one that goes through Cochabamba.  Online yesterday, it said it would leave at 7:50 and the flight to Trinidad at 9:30.  The flight to Cochabamba is less than 45 minutes, so there should have been ample time there.  But my boarding passes changed both times.  The Cochabamba flight at 8:00 and the Trinidad flight at 9:00, cutting my stay in Cochabamba to minutes.  So that made me a little nervous.

But I am learning that worry is a waste of time.  But here is how complicated it got.  At 8:00, we still had not boarded.  A flight that was supposed to leave after us boarded and took off.  Around 8:15, they started boarding three families that had someone in a wheelchair.  I was the first in line after them, but still we waited 10 minutes to get the wheelchairs on board.  Note, they do not always use a ramp like you find in the states.  Usually, you walk the tarmac to the plain and then board a stair.  So boarding the wheelchairs took some time.

I got on the plane and an old lady was in my seat.  She was one of the people in a wheelchair.  I am not going to ask her to move – no way!  She reminded me of my grandmother, wrapped in a blanket and asking her daughter where she was.  She was scared and confused.  The flight attendant moved me, but it wasn’t so bad, from 1C to 1D.  

I was worried about catching my connection to Trinidad, but the flight attendant assured me not to worry.  If he wasn’t worried, then why should I be.  It is not like in the United States where it seems the airlines companies don’t care.  Here they treat you well.  So I settled in to enjoy the short flight.

Upon arriving in Cochabamba, there was someone waiting for me and another half dozen people also going to Cochabamba.  The attendant waited until we were all off the plane, then led us to the neighboring plane, where I had the same exact seat.

To be honest with you, I hate air travel.  Nothing ever seems to go right.  There are always delays or I get on board to find my seat has been claimed by someone else.  But I like visiting new places.  Maybe I will take a bus next time.

 

June 27, 2017 - Guembe

Guembe

Again I found myself sitting in a corner of paradise, drinking a morning coffee, and listening to the noise of macaws and other birds not so far away.  Though it is winter in Santa Cruz, the day is comfortable.  It is cloudy with just a hint of breeze.  How often it seems that I am in a beautiful garden here in Bolivia. 

I’ve wanted to return to Guembe since I first visited on a hot October day last year.  It should not be so bad today.  There is rain in the forecast, but just a few sprinkles.  It might get to 80, but in Santa Cruz there is always a breeze.

My friend, Tim Ramsey, explained why there is always a breeze in Santa Cruz, but if you go east, 50 miles, there is not.  If you look at the shape of the Andes just north of Santa Cruz at the Amboro National Park, you will see they form a form a bowl.  This bowl collects the winds and they come rushing around the corner and then sweep through Santa Cruz.  It is kinda like what happens when you are downtown, in a city with skyscrapers.  The wind seems to whip around the corners of buildings.  If you think Chicago is windy, come to Santa Cruz.

The most prohibitive part of going to Guembe is the taxi ride.  You leave the city, cross the river, and still have a bit of a drive.  Because of that, taxistas generally charge 60 or 70 Bs., or about $10.  Once there it is a bit expensive too, except they have a senior rate.  That is one of the great things about approaching 60.

Once you are here, there is so much to do.  There are several pools that look like postcards from Hawaii or the Caribbean. There are paddle boats, an awesome jungle gym, and miniature golf for the kids.  There is an exhibit where you can learn about the life cycle of butterflies, as well as see them hatch.

I started with my coffee before heading out for my favorite exhibits.  They have the most interesting orquidarium I have ever encountered.  Actually this is probably the only one I have ever encountered.  It is winter in Santa Cruz, so there was not a lot in bloom.  They have a butterfly exhibit famous in Bolivia, but not as nice as the one at Fair Park in Dallas.  But it is nice.  There is also a monkey island, another monkey exhibit, and a tortoise exhibit.

My favorite exhibit is the Aviary.  It is three stories high and filled with macaws, parrots, toucans, ducks, guineas, and peacocks.  The sign says there are more, but I think they must hide when people come to visit.  In the middle is a spiral staircase that leads to a lookout above the aviary.  From there, you have a view of green and the skyline of Santa Cruz in the distance.  As I was descending, a toucan scared me by landing inches from my face.  Take a look at that guy’s beak and ask yourself if you want to tangle with that serrated beak.  About the same thing happened when I sat to write for a while on the platform.  Several macaws landed where I was.  One took a few chunks out of my notebook.  I guess he aspires to be a writer too.

After an hour and a half, walking around the tropical paradise, I was sweaty and ready to sit in a breezy place in the shade, have lunch and write.  And that is where I am now.  Jealous?

 

June 26, 2017 - Coffee With Martha

Coffee with Martha

I want to start this blog out by saying happy birthday to my fabulous and gorgeous mom, Shirley Rosinbaum Pennoyer!  If you know her, you know she is the best.

Tomorrow I leave for Trinidad, Bolivia in the Beni department in the north.  It is on the Mamoré River, which feeds into the Amazon.

My friend, Martha, says she has friends there and thought we’d like to meet each other.  So I invited her to coffee at my artsy coffee place near the Plaza, the Café Patrimonio.  Since it is a new place, only since January, many of my Bolivian friends don’t know about it yet.  That means I have the great pleasure of introducing it to them.

I arrived early, so I could write a bit.  I am waiting on a friend who is editing Onesimus, so I have started working on three other novels.  I believe one will surface in the near future for me to finish.  One is the story of Moses and Pharaoh’s daughter, another is Luke interviewing Mary, and a third an expansion of an event in high school.  Martha arrived before I got too far.

Martha is one of my favorite people in Bolivia.  She knows the significance of her namesake in the Bible and is striving to be more like her sister, Mary, who sat at Jesus’ feet.  She feels she is like the biblical Martha, but if you meet her, you will agree that she is more like Mary.  She is the kind of woman who devotes herself to prayer.  She will pray for you in a heartbeat.

Now let me explain the picture of Martha texting.  No, she is not one of those people who texts while talking to you.  She has a friend in Trinidad that she wants me to meet, thinking she will show me some of the special sites in the city.  So, while we were having coffee, Martha proceeded to text her friend to set up the meeting.  You don’t get to see the next scene of her beating me over the head with her chair for taking a picture of her texting (just kidding).

After coffee, I had the privilege of showing her around the Patrimonio.  It was the home of Dr. Melchor Pinto, a famous doctor and politician.  One room is a reconstruction of his office.  The walls are covered with famous people from Santa Cruz.  I knew very few, but Martha, knew many of them.

There are five other rooms filled with art.  Most of it is modern.  One room is permanent; I think it ight have been Dr. Pinto’s personal collection.  The other four change ever few weeks.  They stagger the changes in galleries, so it seems that every week there is something new.

Martha needed to go to the school to work in her room.  I needed to pack.  I love relaxed mornings like this with friends.  Want to join me for a coffee?