January 21, 2017 - Learning How to Pay Bills

January 21, 2017

Learning How to Pay Bills

There is the inevitable, wherever you are, of bills.  I wrote this blog on Monday, August 1, after having been in Bolivia for a month.  There were bills that I knew I’d need to pay, so I decided that morning would be bill paying day.  Except for restaurants, most places don’t open until 9:00.  Then they close at noon, and stay closed until 3:00 or 4:00.  That gave just three hours to get everything done.  (I later learned that banks stay open till about 4:00, so I actually had a bit more time than I thought.)

First was my rent.  My landlady texted me her bank account at the Ganadero Bank so I could deposit the rent there.  Ganaderos are all over town, but one is just two blocks away.  The process at a bank, and some other places, is to get an automated ticket when you enter the door.  I wasn’t sure what I was asking for, but pushed the button for the simplest I could think of, speaking to a cashier.  Then you wait until your number is called and go to the indicated cashier.  I encountered two immediate problems.  One, the information for the account I am putting the money in is on my phone.  They don’t allow phones for any reason.  Two, they needed my passport number.  So I had to walk home, write down the information, and grab my passport.  Then I started over.  But I punched in the wrong thing on the automated ticket machine.  When I got to the cashier, she said she couldn’t help me unless I used the machine properly.  So I started over, sat and waited.  I got the same cashier again.  Part of me was angry at all the mess to just deposit some money.  But this is their country, their culture, their method of doing things; so I had to be patient and learn to do it right.

Between my two visits at Ganadero I visited Tigo, the phone company.  I had not been getting texts on whatsapp, the app everybody uses here in Bolivia.  Several were thinking I was ignoring them.  Andrea, a friend, told me Sunday, that I needed to buy internet time to use whatsapp.  So I went to Tigo to buy the Internet time.  I thought I had done that, but it never seemed to work.  I found out I had, but it had never been activated.  Suddenly I had 20 messages pop up on my phone.  It was fixed.

Next I needed to go to Cotas to pay for the Internet for my house.  There is probably a Cotas nearby, but I don’t know where yet, so I went down to the Plaza.  This was a lot easier.  As I was getting my ticket, a salesgirl told me to go straight to the cashier in the back.  There are a few people in front of me, but quickly I have paid my monthly Internet and was done.  A few weeks later I learned that I could pay my internet at the small bank next door.

I have been wanting to buy a printer, but was waiting for my paycheck.  Again my friends, Sandra and Andrea, told me exactly where to go and how much I would pay.  They sent me to the Mercantil Chiriguano on the Third Ring.  My taxi driver didn’t know where to go, but Andrea’s directions led me to the door of the store.  They told me I would pay 300 Bs, but they were wrong, he charged me 280 Bs (Divide by 7 and you get $40). 

On the way home I stopped at a bakery, Wistupiku, to buy some salteñas.  Andrea told me about these on Sunday.  They are just three blocks from my house.  I got the cheese and the hot; I prefer the hot.  I also bought a small sonso.  Sorry, I was hungry and ate them before taking a picture. 

Romans 13:8 says, “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another.”

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January 20, 2017 - Multiethnicity

January 20, 2017

Multiethnicity

Today is Inauguration Day in the United States.  Since I am reposting my blogs until I return to Bolivia, I was thinking which post would be the most appropriate for today.  A few months ago, my friend, Matilde, suggested I tell my readers about multiethnicity in Bolivia.  Because I wrote about the progress of democratization in Bolivia, I thought it might be appropriate for today.

When you arrive in Bolivia, you quickly discover that there is not one typical Bolivian.  It is a multiethnic nation that has had a history of battling for equality across racial and ethnic lines.

Spanish is spoken by almost everyone in Bolivia, but not everyone.  Quechua, Aymara, and Guarani are still the first language of tens of thousands, or hundreds of thousands in the case of Quechua.  Besides those, there are another 34 recognized languages in Bolivia.  A full 30% of the population speak Quechua and 25% speak Aymara, meaning that over 55% speak an indigenous language as their first or second language.  Today the schools in Bolivia teach Spanish and one of the indigenous languages.

About 60% of the population is considered indigenous.  The largest groups are the Aymara from the area around La Paz, a group conquered by the Inca, but who managed to keep their culture alive within the Empire, and the Quechua, which are the Inca people.  The Quechua and Aymara are close to each other in population, but the Quechua are spread much wider, into Chile and Argentina in the south, and Peru and Ecuador in the north.  They are the largest “Indian” (American indigenous) tribe in the Americas.  The Aymara and Quechua make up what is called the Andean culture.

Half of Bolivia is in the tropical lowlands, or lower mountains of the Andes in the east.  They are occupied by their own indigenous groups, including the Guaraní, Chiquitano, and Moxos.  The Guaraní were never defeated by the Inca, and only succumbed to the Spanish after being devastated by small pox.

About a quarter of all Bolivians are Mestizo, a term that means mixed indigenous and European.  They are spread throughout the country, and often identify themselves with the local indigenous population.

Those of European descent tend to be in the larger cities, such as La Paz, Santa Cruz, Cochabamba, and Tarija.  Most are of Spanish descent, though Italian, Portuguese, Arabic, Lebanese, and a host of other European countries are represented here.  There is a German Mennonite colony that numbers around 70,000 in the Santa Cruz department.  It is not uncommon to see people in the traditional Mennonite dress in the city of Santa Cruz.

The Spanish brought slaves from Africa with them when they conquered Bolivia.  Eventually these people were freed and settled in an area near La Paz called the Yungas.  Some have left the Yungas to find work in the big cities, so you will find a few blacks in Bolivia.  In fact, one is a worship leader at my church.

There is a significant Japanese population found in the Okinawa Colony near Santa Cruz.  Asians, mostly Japanese, Chinese, and Korean are found in the big cities of Bolivia.

Traditionally most Bolivians are Catholic, though as a percent of the population it is on the decline; only about 80% now.  Evangelical and other Protestant denominations are on the rise, now numbering around 15%.  There are small numbers of about every religion you can think of in Bolivia, including a little under 1% who still follow the indigenous religions.

The history of voting rights, as in the United States, shows a gradual democratization of Bolivia.  Originally the founders of Bolivia feared a mod rule, so granted voting rights to those who spoke Spanish, owned a sizable amount of land, or were skilled in the arts and sciences.  The right to vote was concentrated in the hands of a very small minority of European Bolivians, and some Mestizos.  Even with that small concentration of power, Bolivia suffered from one revolution after another, as rival factions tried to take control of the country.

In the 1930s Bolivia experienced a war that drained the country.  The Chaco War increased tensions between the middle class, the military, and the ruling elite.  In the 1940s voting rights for women were given for the first time.  It was followed by a revolution in the 1950s that gave the right to vote to peasants, though not fully achieved until the 1960s.  Still the White and Mestizo upper class managed to control Bolivia for decades to come.

It was not until 2005 that Evo Morales, the first indigenous president in Bolivia, was elected.  He has strived to end social injustice and inequality, especially among the indigenous population.  It has taken 200 years, and problems still exist, but Bolivia has finally achieved equality for all in this multiethnic nation.

 

January 19, 2017 - My Noisy Neighborhood

January 19, 2017

My 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 a street called Ejercito Nacional (National Army) when I first came to Bolivia, just a few blocks away.  So this is the military district.  To me, the three most important places in my neighborhood are 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 down the middle of the road.  I guess you could also include the cinema, a dozen nice restaurants (there are 2 Subways, a Papa John’s, and Starbucks within a 5-minute walk!), a very good hospital, and two awesome super markets.

That makes for a noisy neighborhood!  There are some other things that add to the noise.

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, though a few 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 or military jet.

Second is my awesome super market right outside my window.  My living room window opens to Fidalga’s back door.  By 6:30 am that door is bustling with activity.  Trucks, vans, and cars making deliveries until noon or after.  There is also a guy blowing a whistle 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 the soccer Stadium, Tahuichi Aguilera.  About once a week is a game at the stadium.  That means a lot of loud cheering and even fireworks.  Many will park around my house and walk the four blocks to the stadium.  Usually when a game is being played there will be a band going down the street to the stadium.

Fourth is the Clinica Foianini, which I can see outside of my bedroom window.  It is a block away, though 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.

Last are the car alarms and car horns.  Bolivians seem to have a passion for car alarms.  I hear one every hour, at least.  One night one went off every five minutes for the entire night.  And there are the car horns.  In North 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. 

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 can go for a nice walk every day.  I have yet to have a night that the noise kept me awake.  Instead I fall asleep to the rumble of a beautiful city.

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January 18, 2017 - Walking Down the Street

January 18, 2017

Walking Down the Street

This is one of my early observations of Bolivia.  I don’t think I had been there for two weeks when I wrote this.  After five months in Bolivia, my opinions have evolved.  When I asked friends what I should write about, I was told they wanted my observations; what I really think when I’m walking down the street.  So this blog is about sidewalks in Santa Cruz and how people act walking down the street.  The things here are very different than back home.

First of all, they have sidewalks.  My friends in Kaufman know that a house or two might have sidewalks, but overall there are none.  And my friends and family, in Bristol know that sidewalks don’t exist.  Santa Cruz has sidewalks.

The sidewalks in my part of town are uneven.  I live in the older part of town, just past the First Ring and close to the Colonial old part of town.  In this part of town, the curbs tend to be rather high; I assume this was so rain water, during the rainy season, would not flood houses.  Walking down a road for some blocks you might encounter a dozen different styles of sidewalk, as well as broken concrete.  Some people want the entrance to their house to look nice, so they put down tile; that can be a challenge on a rainy day.

The second thing is how people act when you cross their paths.  The way I was raised is that men give the path to women, the elderly, and the infirm.  That’s not the way it is done here.  I have had two or three young men step in front of me, with the expectation I move out of the way, or blocking the path so I have to step in the street.  I have also seen people look at me from a shop door, see me coming, and step in the path, again wanting me to take a different path.  Stepping in front of people happens all the time.  I don’t see people giving way for the elderly or infirm.  Drivers are worse; they don’t slow down for pedestrians.  Here it seems to be the strongest goes first.  I swear it seems that cars will speed up to make me run across the street, even if I have the green light!

Those were my first observations.  After being in Bolivia for several months, I saw things were different than my first observations.  In Samaipata, a mountain town, there is very little traffic, so walking in the streets is easy.  In Tarija, I was surprised when drivers waited for me to cross the street.  Sucre was a busy city with decent sidewalks.  I never had problems crossing the street there.  My conclusion is that Santa Cruz is like a boom town.  Everything is fast and furious.  That means drivers are rushing through the city.  I’ve seen taxi drivers that looked like they would explode over the slightest provocation.  Visiting the rest of Bolivia has helped me understand the character of Santa Cruz.

So now I am less concerned about how drivers act and I have become more accustomed to walking down a street.  It feels comfortable.  Like home.

“Stand up in the presence of the elderly, and show respect for the aged.  Fear your God.  I am the LORD.” Leviticus 19:32

 

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January 17, 2017 - The Zoo

January 17, 2017

The Zoo

If you know me, you know I love zoos.  I love animals of every type, especially rhinos.  I’ve been to 15 zoos in Texas, and another 5 in the US, and 5 more in other countries.  When I came home to Texas this winter for a family emergency, one of my plans was to visit the Dallas Zoo with my little great nieces and nephews.  But of all the zoos in the world 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, with animals unique to the savannahs and tropical forests of eastern Bolivia.  Here you can 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 with your camera.  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, with 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 being very nice to it.  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 2016, nobody was there, probably because the kids were in school.  When I went in July 2016, 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.

I think when I return one day soon, I need to make a monthly pilgrimage to the zoo. Maybe I'll go to the Dallas Zoo today, since it is a sunny winter day.

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January 16, 2017 - Opposite Seasons

January 16, 2017

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 the Northern Hemisphere.  Through the heart of South America is the invisible line called the Equator.  That is how Ecuador got its name.  Ecuador means equator in Spanish.  Ecuador is split by the Equator.  Bolivia is south of the Equator.

What does that mean?  Well, it means we have opposite seasons in Bolivia.  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 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.  My memory is proving accurate.

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.  Things never seem to get dry during this time of year.

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

It is funny now that I am rewriting this six months later, on a cold winter day in Texas, with the sky overcast and a chill wind from the north. 

Something I must add that I didn’t say the first time I wrote this.  Weather in Bolivia is contingent on where you live.  Santa Cruz is east of the Andes, in the tropical lowlands.  It can get very hot in the summer.  Much of Bolivia, such as La Paz, Sucre, and Cochabamba are in the Andes.  They are in more desert climate.  It doesn’t rain much and the sun always seems to be shining, but being in the mountains they never get very hot.  A thirty-minute plane ride can take you to an entirely different world.

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January 15, 2017 - Church and Water Heaters

January 15, 2017 - Church and Water Heaters

Saturday morning, I walked around my neighborhood taking pictures of various things to use in upcoming 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 out 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 I was not having any success.  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.

Sunday morning, I found myself in church.  I now 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.

I was late getting home, 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 Saturday’s wind that blew out the pilot.  The wind from an exhaust tube was keeping it from staying lit.  He said that might happen every time we have a surazo (the cold south wind that blows from the Antarctic).  Before he left, I had him teach me how to get it going again. 

I didn’t have enough church the 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 that night.  And I am so glad I went.

The evening service was worship and prayer.  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 moms 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.

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