Day 22 - My Noisy Neighborhood

Noisy Neighborhood

On the map of Santa Cruz, my neighborhood (barrio) is called Militar.  It makes sense because the military airport is just south of my neighborhood.  I once lived on Ejercito Nacional (National Army) when I first came to Bolivia, which is just outside this barrio.  To me, the three most important places in my neighborhood is the Plaza Blacutt, a pretty little park a block from house; the Estadio Tahuichi Aguilera, the soccer stadium, three blocks from my house; and Avenida las Americas, a tree-lined avenue with a park dividing the road.  I guess you could also include the cinema, dozens of nice restaurants (there are 2 Subways within a 5-minute walk!), a very good hospital, and two awesome super markets.

That makes for a noisy neighborhood!

First is the airport, El Trompillo.  This is not the airport you will come to when you arrive in Bolivia; that is Viru-Viru, miles north of town.  El Trompillo is the military airport, and some national flights go out of here, and private planes.  During daylight hours, you can hear planes taking off and landing all day long!  Mostly small planes, but occasionally a real jet-liner. 

Second is my awesome super market right outside my window.  My living room window opens to Fidalga’s back door.  By 7:00 am that door is bustling with activity.  Trucks, vans, and cars making deliveries until noon or after.  There is also a guy trying to get people to park in his lot across the street from the super market.  It costs 5 Bs., but why do that when it is free to park in front of the store?  Anyway, he blows a whistle every time a car passes by.

Third is Clinica Foianini, which I can see outside of my bedroom window.  It is a block away, and technically outside of my barrio.  It isn’t often, maybe two or three times a day, but I hear sirens of ambulances. I am glad that if I get sick, a good hospital is so close.

Fourth are the car alarms.  Bolivians seem to have a passion for car alarms.  I hear one every hour, at least.  The other night one went off every five minutes for the entire night.  As I write this, one is going off now.

Fifth are car horns.  In America many consider it rude to honk at another car.  Well, what are car horns for?  Here they use them all the time.  In a normal taxi ride, the driver will use his horn at least 5 times.  If not, he is asleep. 

So what is my attitude about all this?  I love it.  I am living in a city.  There is something to do, a place to eat, a place to shop, or something to see just outside my door.  I have yet to have a night that the noise kept me awake.  Instead I fall asleep to the rumble of a beautiful city.  I love it.

Day 19 - Work Visa, Part 1

Getting a Work Visa, Part 1

I am writing the first part of this on Friday, July 15, 2016, though I know I will be adding to this on Monday and beyond.  I got an email from the school director, telling me to start working on my work visa.  He said he was going to call, so I waited a while.  When he called he gave me instructions to find the attorney who would be working with me.

Most of the work has to be done through an immigration attorney, so I got the phone number and address of the one the school uses.  That would be Dr. Z (if you haven’t noticed I am not using full names of anybody.  Some are just their first names or an initial like this guy.  Easier than having to ask everybody’s permission). 

Well, it turns out that Dr. Z is just 5 blocks away and so is immigration.  He is across the street.  During siesta time, when most businesses are closed, I walked over to his office to locate it, so I didn’t have to search later.  Sounds crazy, but I needed to go to the open-air market anyway and it was on my way. 

Around 4:00, when businesses are reopening after siesta, I walked over there again.  His office was smaller than my kitchen.  He talked a mile a minute, and I understood maybe half.  I got the cost for 1, 2, or 3 years of a work visa, plus information on what I need to do next.  Seriously, I only know what I will do Monday morning.

So now it is Monday morning.  I just went to Dr. Z's office.  He made copies of my passport, tourist visa, and a copy of the apartment's electric bill.  His secretary made about a dozen photographs of me from every angle and he typed papers for Interpol, I think.  Wednesday I am supposed to return with payment and I will be going with his secretary to the immigration office across the street.

Not sure how long this will take.

Day 18 - Church and Water Heaters

Church and Water Heaters

Saturday morning, I walked around my neighborhood taking pictures of various things to use in this week’s blogs.  It was cold and it was windy.  I was out of the house from 9:00 till probably around 1:00, maybe later.  I didn’t notice right away, but my water heater stopped working.  I went through my day writing blogs, cooking, washing dishes, and cleaning the house a little, not knowing what happened.  Around 9:00, I was washing dinner dishes and noticed the water was not getting hot. 

It was still cold outside.  In Bolivia, I have never seen indoor heating.  It doesn’t get cold enough for it.  Maybe a few days this time a year it is cold, but is only in the 50s.  But still, that is an uncomfortable shower.

I tried reading the instructions, but something I was not doing right.  I gave up after an hour and called my landlady.  It was already 10:00, so I knew I would not get anything done tonight.  She asked if I was going to church on Sunday and I said yes.  So she promised to send him after.

I think I said before that there are two church services on Sunday mornings, around 8:00 and 10:00.  Today I recognized some songs the praise team sang before.  One is about having a fiesta, singing and celebrating before the Lord.  It makes sense.  If you love God more than the world, why shouldn’t you celebrate?  Why should your worship be bland and boring?  I don’t want to step on any toes, but maybe this is why our churches are turning off the young people.  At Berea Church, easily half are between 15 and 25.  This morning I was surrounded by young men; five in front and three on the side.  All were singing and worshipping.  This church is raising men to lead.

Well, during the worship service, my landlady called me.  I turned off the ringer, but kept feeling it buzz.  I typed a message that I was at church.  She messaged back that the water heater man could only come this morning.  If not, it might be Tuesday until he came.  So I debated what to do and decided that I needed to go home.   

I rushed home, but from the church to my house is 20 minutes by taxi.  I was worried I would be late, but kept telling myself that Bolivian time is different from American time.  If he says 11:00, he will be there at 11:15 or later.

So I was late, but the water heater man was later.  The first time he came by two weeks ago, he was in and out in two minutes.  Today it took him longer.  It was yesterday’s wind that blew out the pilot.  The wind from an exhaust tube was still keeping it from staying lit.  He said that might happen every time we have a surazo (cold south wind from the Antarctic).  Before he left, I had him teach me how to get it going again.  At 8:45 pm, it is still working.  Hopefully he won’t’ have to come back.

So I didn’t have enough church this week.  Berea Church is on the edge of town and I am in the middle.  It takes about 20+ minutes to get there by taxi and longer by micro.  But I wanted to be there tonight.  And I am so glad I went.

The evening service was worship and prayer.  Basically it was 45 minutes of singing, 20 minutes of a young lady teaching from Ephesians 3, and 20 minutes of prayer.

When this group sings, they take literally these verses from 2 Samuel 6 to heart.  In verses 14 and 15 it says, “David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, while he and all Israel were bringing up the Ark of the Lord with shouts and the sound of instruments.”  The younger members, and a few of the older ones, get into the worship with shouting, dancing, jumping, always with smiles of joy on their faces.  In one song, so many of the young men and women were jumping so high and hard that you could feel the floor shaking (no Mom, it wasn’t an earthquake).  During prayer time, two-thirds of the church was on their face before the altar.  I haven’t been in a prayer service like that in so many years.  The ones who weren’t on their faces, were old people like me, a few children, and some mom’s with babies.

Now if you are inclined to say that is not what you want out of your church, or maybe that it embarrasses you or you think it not dignified enough for church, I know several dozen young men and women that would respond like David did in that same chapter, “I will celebrate (in Spanish it translates as dance) before the Lord. I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes.”

If for no other reason, this is why I am glad to be back in Bolivia.

Day 15 - The Zoo

The Zoo

If you know me, you know I love zoos.  I love animals of every type, especially rhinos.  I know I’ve been to 15 zoos in Texas, and another 5 in the US, and 5 more in other countries.  The Santa Cruz Zoo is one of my favorites.

Its complete name is the Zoológico Municipal Noel Kempff Mercado and it is a unique little zoo.  It has animals unique to the forests of Bolivia.  So here you can go and see animals that you might not see in your travels to Bolivia.  It isn’t well-funded, so it is nothing like the Dallas, Waco, or Tyler zoos.  Most of the animals are in small old-fashioned cages.  Not very natural at all.  But there are some nice touches.

There are two aviaries you can walk through.  One was closed when I went the other day, but the other was open and crowded.  I have learned at zoos, if you wait, people leave and you can get a quiet shot.  There were several beautiful macaws, parrots, pigeons (though there are hundreds more in the Plaza), and at least two toucans.  When I was there in March it was blooming.  Now is winter and not as many blooms.

The reptile house and aquarium have some interesting animals, but it is not as pretty as what we have in Dallas.

There is a huge pond in the middle of the zoo.  There are two islands with two different kinds of monkeys.  I’m not sure the specie of either.  While I was there I got to see a rescue.  A sloth fell from a tree into the pond.  Sloths can swim, but it was swimming for one of the monkey islands.  Both groups of monkeys were kinda going nuts (just like you get when a stranger is walking down your street).  The zookeepers took a canoe out to the island and rescued the sloth before he was monkey attacked.

Later I saw the wet sloth drying off under a tree; he seemed confused.  Some kids were really interested in it, but not very nice.  One boy kept poking its head. I got between him and the sloth and eventually the boys ran away.  Later I had a good view of him climbing a tree.  This guy was a lot faster than the guy in Zootopia.

There are at least four jaguars that I saw, one in a nice enclosure.  There was an alligator pond with nine gators that I counted, but more than seventy turtles.  And there was a wild pig cage with about fifty pigs.

When I went in March, nobody was there.  Today it was packed.  It only costs 10 Bs. for adults and 5 Bs. for kids over six.  Seven Bolivianos equals a dollar, so I paid around $1.30.  A cheap place to take a family of kids.

Day 14 - Opposite Seasons

Opposite Seasons

Let me give you a little geography review.  All of North America is in the Northern Hemisphere.  Most of South America is in the Southern Hemisphere.  Colombia and Venezuela, which are on the Caribbean Coast, are in South America, but in the Northern Hemisphere.  Through the heart of South America is the invisible line called the Equator.  That is how Ecuador got its name.  In English it is Equator and it is split by the Equator.  Bolivia is south of the Equator.

What does that mean?  Well, it means we have opposite seasons.  While the Northern Hemisphere, including the USA, Canada, and Europe, are enjoying summer, the Southern Hemisphere is in Winter.  When the weather in the US starts to get cold, we will be entering summer in Bolivia.

Bolivia is not too far south of the Equator.  It is about as far south of the Equator as the Caribbean is as far north of the Equator.  Neither gets very cold in winter.

What you can expect in a Bolivian winter is milder days.  The nights might slip into the 60s (jacket or long-sleeve weather), and during the day it is in the low 80s.  Occasionally it can get colder, like today.  I woke up to a temperature of 52, clouds, and a stiff breeze.  It felt cold.  We are expecting this weather for about 3 more days.  Then it will be back to normal.

Like in Texas, where the daffodils will often bloom in February, or even in January, Santa Cruz, Bolivia has things in bloom.  The grass isn’t growing and a select few trees have lost their leaves.  But spring is not that far away.  It has been nearly 30 years since I experienced a Bolivian spring, but I remember the trees were every color of the rainbow.

When Texas, and the rest of North America enters their Autumn, and the leaves are turning pretty colors, Santa Cruz, Bolivia rapidly enters summer time.  The summer here gets hot.  Not long ago I looked up an article about the weather in Santa Cruz and it showed that 95 is about as hot as it gets in the summer.  There is a reason for that.  Santa Cruz, Bolivia is not too far from the Equator and that means days and nights are about the same all year long, roughly 12 hours each.  In winter the sun starts to set around 5:30 and in the summer around 6:30. In Texas, the days are long and there is more time to build up the heat, so it never cools enough at night.  Here it cools off, so days are at most in the low 90s. I remember from the past that there always seemed to be a breeze at night.

After Christmas, the rainy season begins.  Probably 3 out of 5 days it can rain.  The rains always help to cool things off, but brings a lot of humidity. 

On this cold winter day of temperatures in the 50s, the sun just struggled to push through the clouds.  I love winter.

Day 13 - The Plaza at Night

Plaza at night

Back in the 80s, when I first went to Bolivia, I lived like an American my first year.  That meant after school was over, I was at home eating my dinner around 5:00 or 6:00, and then watching TV until bed time.  If I went out with friends, and my first year my friends were all Americans, it was for dinner around 5:00 or 6:00, the normal dining time in the States.  I was amazed at the empty restaurants.  How did they stay open? I wondered.  There might be four of us and ten people working in the restaurant.

Slowly, I made new friends, many of them Bolivian.  They never went out to eat before the sun set.  That just wasn’t normal to them.  They might pick me up for dinner at 8:00 or 9:00.  If they say 8:00, that might mean 8:30.  And the same restaurants were filled with clients and life.

I started venturing out more and exploring.  At first my explorations were in daylight.  I occasionally got lost.  But after a while in Bolivia, I rarely ate before 7:00, and I rarely stayed indoors at night.  I discovered that Bolivia comes alive after dark.

Once it was dark, families would stroll down the street or in the plazas scattered around town.  Years ago I discovered the Plaza Blacutt, where I live now.  Here you will find people of all ages.  Kids are riding bikes or tricycles.  Parents are chatting with friends.  A young couple might be smooching on a bench.  Teens have met up to walk around the plaza, girls looking for boys and boys flirting with girls.  Vendors are selling food or toys for the kids.  A little boy might be climbing a tree and several old men looking at a newspaper together. 

Some neighborhoods are quieter than others, but rarely will you find them empty.  I remember seeing families sitting on their stoop watching TV, while the kids ran up and down the street.  After a while, you begin to feel it is safe on the streets of Santa Cruz, Bolivia at night.

When I returned to Texas in 1989, I still went for walks after dark.  Nobody was outside.  Nobody was walking.  I remember someone looking through their curtains at me, probably wondering if I was casing the joint.  Eventually I stopped because it didn’t feel quite right.

The truth is that there is probably not a safer place to live than in Texas.  Our crime is low and people own guns.  Our streets are safe in Texas.  Yet people still lock themselves in their houses after dark.  I don’t think Bolivia is quite as safe.  There is a lot of poverty.  I realize as I walk through the market that I might spend more in a day than some of the ladies working there spend on their families in a week.  They are poor.  Some poor people get desperate and might steal from you.  But I feel safe on the streets in the evenings here.  Go figure!

If you live in a safe neighborhood, get out and walk.

Day 12 - Banking

Banking

Let me describe my Monday ordeal.  I am running low on dollars to change into Bolivianos.  When I lived here before, I would walk to the Central Plaza and write a check at the casa de cambio (money exchange).  So my plan today was to learn how it’s done a quarter of a century later.

The other day, when I changed some money I asked the money changers on the corner where was the best place to get cash from a check.  I was told the Casa Aleman.  I went with check and passport in hand, only to be told they couldn’t do it.  They sent me to the Banco Ganadero around the corner.

The Banco was nice and cool, air conditioned.  In the bank you first have to get a ticket.  Then you wait until a TV shows your number and which teller to speak to.  Mine was called quickly.  The lady was counting thousands of Bolivianos, so she really wasn’t ready.  Finally, I am able to explain my situation.  She says, “Yes, we can do it.”  But she needs to go ask how.  Five minutes later she says she can’t cash a check from out of Bolivia.  But she suggests I check with the Banco Bisi down the road.

So I go to the Banco Bisi and same story.  And then I try to Banco Fassil.  They were more helpful.  They said they were just a small branch, but their main office on the other side of town, could help me.  They were also helpful enough to write down directions to the main bank. 

I realized I was running low on cash and needed to change something from dollars.  I have usually used the corner money changers, but today I learned something and will never, ever go back to them.  So here is what happened.  They showed me the exchange and started counting it out.  I was just changing $100, so I should get 692 Bs. back. He first handed me 500 and let me count it.  I said it was correct.  He took it back and recounted it and gave me the additional 192 in smaller bills.  I then hoped into a taxi to take me to the bank.  Do you see what he did?  When he counted the 500 and gave them back to me, he took out 100.  He stole about $15 dollars from me.  Lesson learned.

The main bank really was on the opposite side of the city from me.  A long taxi drive during a busy part of the day.  I was treated well there and sent to a second floor office, only to be told that I could not cash my check in Bolivia.  He said I could go to every bank in town and I would not get a check cashed.  So I am stuck.

Well, not really.  I talked to several friends and asked for a solution.  I was beginning to think I would be unable to make things work here and wondering what mistake I made coming here.  How would I have money?

After lunch and a rest, I took my debit card and went looking for an ATM.  There is one next door, literally next door.  I put in my card, had the choice of English, put in my PIN, and presto, I had cash.

And that was less than five minutes from my door.

Lessons learned.