Day 85 - The Acto Civico

The Acto Civico

Saturday, September 24, is Dia de Santa Cruz, Santa Cruz Day.  It is celebrating the founding on the province of the eastern frontier of Bolivia.  In the last 50 years, Santa Cruz has become the dynamic economic center of Bolivia.  It is easy to forget you are in a third world country in Santa Cruz.

For many years the Santa Cruz Christian Learning Center has been celebrating the culture of Santa Cruz and Bolivia on the Dia de Santa Cruz.  Since it comes on a Saturday this year, we celebrated on Thursday.

I had to go find a costume.  All morning long, the Bolivians I met said I looked like a Cambita, meaning someone from Santa Cruz.  I wonder what I really looked like to them, because I got a lot of interesting smiles.  Anyway, I loved dressing up since the whole school was doing the same.

By 8:00 people were running all over the place.  The school was decorated in green and white, the colors of Santa Cruz.  Students were everywhere, dressed in an array of traditional costumes.  Teachers were busy trying to round up their students.  I gave up with my 12^th graders.  They were all there, but none were I was told to put them.  Parents were arriving and greeting with the required kiss on the cheek.  I met my Bolivian family and took a few pictures, and I ran into a student I taught way back in 1989.  I have her son this year. 

Around 8:20 we started.  Abishai, Shekinah, and Abraham, 12^th graders, raised the flags of Bolivia, Santa Cruz, and the Learning Center.  That was followed by dances or songs from almost every class.  I guess the pre-kinder were not quite ready to perform, and the 7^th and 9^th grade were in charge of decorations and food. 

The little ones needed teachers or parents to help.  Parents were all around taking pictures or videos.  Everyone was applauding or cheering.  The costumes and time consumed making this work was amazing, since school started only one month ago.

The three high school dances were of course the best.  My 10^th graders had been late to class a few times so they could practice their dance.  They performed a dance based on a dance from Argentina.  The 11^th graders, who I am not teaching this year, performed a dance from the mountains.  It was one of the most spirited and athletic dances I had ever seen performed.  The 12^th graders, half of whom are mine, performed a dance from Cochabamba.

I have tried to include a few of the colorful dances here.

After the performances there was ample traditional food of Santa Cruz: empanadas, sonso, tamales (these are not the hot tamales of Mexico), sonso, cuñapé, and a dozen other things I am not sure what they were. 

It was a colorful and exciting day.  Now I need some mountain air.

Day 84 - You Only Live Once

You Only Live Once

The first time I got a haircut here in Bolivia it was at a place downtown.  An old man cut it and ignored everything I told him.  He did it his way.  I was willing to go back, but in no rush

The other day, quite by accident, I noticed a place near my house.  It is a nice beauty salon, but had pictures of men and women outside.  So I thought I’d try it.  The next day I walked by there and didn’t see it.  Then Sunday, as I was passing Starbucks, I saw it again, tucked between two nice restaurants.

Today I went back.  Well the sign said closed, but there were some girls inside.  I had another errand to run and decided I would return in a few minutes.  Again the sign said closed.  But this time I tried the door.

“Excuse me.  When are you open and do you cut men’s hair too.”

“Of course we are open and yes, we cut men’s hair.”  That’s when they noticed the sign had not been turned to open.  All of them fussed a lot wondering how many customers they lost.

Yikes!  What a mess!

I asked how much is the haircut.  Eighty Bolivianos.  Yikes I thought.  Then I did the money calculations.  That is only $11, cheaper than I pay in Ennis. I soon was to discover it was possibly the best haircut experience of my life.

They began by washing my hair.  Not once, but three times.  I was almost asleep by the time she finished.

Then I was sent to Elie, a lady probably around 45 or 50.  I can’t tell ages, so who knows?  She took 45 minutes cutting my hair.  Her attention to detail amazed me.  And she talked up a storm.  We talked about the weather, the weather in Dallas, what is nice to see in Dallas, why I was in Bolivia, where her daughter goes to school, how men don’t like getting haircuts, and stuff like that.

Then she started working on my beard.  I had been letting it grow for about two weeks and I guess it looked kinda shabby.  She shaved and cut and clipped to make it look better than ever.

Then I got a second shampoo.  Am I in heaven?  Seriously the shampoos girl massages my head until I am about to fall asleep.  Then Elie took me one last time to dry my hair, wax it a bit, and check that I walked out of there handsome.

Best spent $11 ever!

Elie said I look handsome now.

The place is called YOLO (You Only Live Once).  Here is my philosophical input on that phrase that I know has been taken over by the World.  We do only live once, and then we meet the Father.  We need to do all we can in this life to live well and correctly and to the fullest before we meet him.  Don’t be ashamed when that day comes.

Day 83 - Sunday with Friends

Sunday with Friends

I am going to combine two different events for this blog, because people I knew in the 80s are treating me as family.  I like that and want to share my joy with you.

First, about two weeks ago, I get a text message from my former student, Debbie, who now works at the SCCLC.  I am also teaching her senior daughter this year.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Want to go see Ben Hur?”

Well of course I did!  I loved the 1959 movie with Charleton Heston and had been looking forward to the new version.  I figured with all the special effect capabilities we have now  would make this movie spectacular.

I took a taxi to the Hipermaxi (a big grocery store) on the Fourth Ring, so they would not have to drive all the way to my house.  From there we drove to the Ventura Mall, which is small by US standards, but as modern as any mall.  An American would be very comfortable there.

There are about 8 theaters in the cinema and those are as nice as any in Dallas.  One difference is they have sweet popcorn.  While eating it, I realized it tastes like Cracker Jacks.  After the movie we had a nice sandwich at Subway.  Basically the food court has many of the restaurants you are familiar with.

The movie?  Not as good as the 1959 version.  The message was diluted.  The graphics on the sea battle and chariot race were spectacular.  But little things bother me.  They have a woman wearing pants in 30AD!

My next event is dinner with the mom of one of my present students and her sister, Sandra and Andrea.  She was also my student back in the 80s.  While writing a poetry book in creative writing class, she introduced me to Pablo Neruda, one of the greatest poets of the 20^th Century.  If I had stayed in Bolivia a few more years, I would have taught her sister.

They heard I had just published my book, so they invited me out to celebrate. They had prepared a nice meal for me at their house.  Her boys were spending the day with their dad, who I also taught.  I should have taken pictures!  The meal was fabulous.  They have a cooker that cooks meat on a platter, while little spoon-trays under the cooker melt cheese.  So we cooked bacon, to flavor the meat, and steak, and onions.  The cheese was to put on bread after it melted and the meat stacked on top of that.  Yummy.

These two young ladies love to talk.  I find out so much about the history of their family.  It would make a good novel.  We also talk about books.  Sandra loves to read.  She says she averages 200 pages a day.  I think that is awesome.

Sandra is planning on two upcoming events.  If I write them here, I obligate her to it, don’t I?  First is a tea for her 2^nd grade son’s teacher and the other parents of that class.  A Bolivian tea is amazing.  When I go to one, I will write a detailed blog about it.  The second is a barbecue for her high school son’s teachers.  Can't wait for that!

These are just two reasons why I am loving being in Bolivia.  My friends treat me like family.

What to Do When Having a Really Bad Day

What to Do When Having a Really Bad Day

I woke up this morning 10 minutes before my alarm went off.  I left behind a bad dream.  I was with three family members at the home I grew up in Duncanville, sitting out front along the road watching something, but I don’t remember what.  Suddenly there was a plane flying really low that stopped and pointed something at a house nearby.  Out spewed a liquid that caught the house on fire.  I tried to get my family to come inside, but they were watching the fire.  Terrified I woke up.  I wasn’t in the best of moods when I got out of bed.

I couldn’t seem to get ready in time this morning and I was expecting to not be ready when my taxi arrived, but I was downstairs before he was.  That was because he never arrived.  I called the taxi company and they said he would arrive soon, they were sure.  I waited 10 minutes and he didn’t arrive.

So I walked to the plaza around the corner to look for a taxi.  I found one quickly.  When I said where I needed to go and asked the price, he said 10 Bs. more than I usually pay.  I said if he couldn’t do it for my usual price, I’d have to leave.  He agreed.  About halfway to school he said he needed to get gas.  I explained that there was a gas station by my school.  He said the gas would only take 5 or 10 minutes.  But I was already late and said if he couldn’t take me to school, I’d have to find another taxi.  Grumbling he took me to school.

I had some papers I needed to copy for two classes.  Of course, you figured it, the copy machine didn’t act right. Still I was in class before my students.  This day of the week the faculty gather to pray.  I missed that and I needed that.

In my first class I had half of my students who were not finished with their work.  That meant I had to modify what I wanted to do on the spot.  During my second class, I was helping a boy find an answer to a grammar problem.  Another boy, standing next to me, waiting to ask a question, whispered, “D.”  When I corrected him, he was disrespectful.  Another boy lost his workbook, but swears he gave it to me.  In my third class, I had a boy who pushes the limits a bit, disappear in the bathroom for 10 minutes.  So school today was not the easiest.  I left with a ton of papers to grade.

My required day at the school is short.  Most days I am heading home by 11:00 am.  So I can’t complain about a long dreary day.  But today I already had a headache.

The day before I spent all afternoon working on lesson plans, when my printer ink ran out.  I can’t just run to Wal-Mart and replace it.  I have to go to a special place to get what I need.  So that meant another hour just to get an ink cartridge across town, and two taxi rides.

The purpose of this blog is not to complain about my day.  The purpose is to introduce you to Bolivia, its people, the church, the school, and things like that.  Coming up the elevator to my apartment (God has given me the most beautiful place you can imagine to live in), I was asking how I can turn this around.  I got online and looked for some answers. 

There are days we feel overwhelmed, insufficient.  Sometimes we just wish it were all over.  Paul said, in 2 Corinthians 1:8-9, “For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself.  Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.  But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead.”

We have to get back to the essentials.  What is it that God has done for us?  He has provided a home for us after we die.  We all know that, and most of us believe that.  But what has He really done? In Romans 5 it says, “When we were yet without strength, in due time God died for the ungodly.”  That is not just for some time in the distant future, but for now.  He wants us now.

I was without strength today.  It would be so easy to call it quits.  But Christ died for me, the most ungodly sinner of all time, so that He could work through me.  I have been wondering if I really was called to return to Bolivia.  I was thinking of how many mistakes I have made, and of the sins I commit far too often to call myself a “good” Christian.

In Ephesians 3, there is the promise that God is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all we could ask or imagine.  So I go back to that verse and realize God has a purpose.  As my friend, Tim, said a few weeks ago.  If we are at a particular place, even if we haven’t heard a voice from Heaven, God has a purpose for us to be where we are.  Where we are now, is where God wants us to rely on Him.  That is our purpose, to learn to rely on Him.  Once we surrender that to Him, we will see wonders in our lives.

Pray for me that I will learn to rely on God rather than my own strength.

And just as I write this, I spill my dinner down the front of me.

Thanks to Pastor Paul Edwards article “Hearing God at the End of a Bad Day,” on crosswalk.com. 

Day 82 - Santa Cruz Winter

Santa Cruz Winter

Now that winter is ending I guess I should talk about the Bolivian winter, or at least the winter in Santa Cruz, Bolivia.  I’m writing this on a Saturday morning in mid-September.  The night was cool, but the weather forecast is saying 95.

Santa Cruz is in the tropical lowlands of South America.  About half of Bolivia is in the Andes Mountains and remains cooler, or colder, all year round.  Santa Cruz is warm year round, and often hot.  If you look at statistics on the weather here, it shows that the hottest day on record was 100 in November.  When I tell Bolivians that the summer in Dallas is usually around 100 (38 Celsius) they are shocked, because it rarely gets above 34 or 35 Celsius, in the mid-90s.  In Dallas you feel the heat when you go outside, but in Santa Cruz, you stick to the shady side of the street or sit under a tree, it doesn’t feel so bad.

The winter here is at the same time as Texas summer.  We are below the Equator, so there are opposite seasons.  Most days of the winter months are like those beautiful Dallas sunny days in January.  You want to be outside!  Some trees lose their leaves, but many more are in bloom.  It is a beautiful time of year.

Then you are hit with a surazo, a cold wind from the south, blowing up from Antarctica and picking up speed in the vast plains of Argentina.  There is nothing to stop it!  Temperatures will drop to the low 50s at night and maybe not quite 70 during the day.  The wind bites into you when you are outside.  No, it is not freezing, but it feels like it.  The houses here are not built for months of cold, so even with every window and door shut tight, it feels cold, much like the day I visited Minneapolis in January.  Inside the wind blows so hard that at times you can’t open the door, and closing windows can be difficult.

My North Window

My apartment is situated with one window facing south.  When a surazo is blowing in, I notice it right away.  The living room curtains are blowing.  A surazo usually lasts for three days.  The third day is mild, usually sunny.  There is little if any breeze.  It is a great day to get outside!

My South Window

My bedroom window faces north.  The day after the surazo the wind changes direction; it blows from the north.  Last night the wind changed direction.  I wrapped myself in my blankets and enjoyed the wind blowing in my window.  This is not a gentle breeze, but wind that can blow you down.  It is a day to do laundry, because it is windy and dry.  In minutes your shirts are dry.  In an hour your towels, and a bit longer for jeans.  As I write this, it is 11:00 am and I can feel the beginnings of heat.  By noon my windows will be shut and the air conditioning will be on for the first time in three days.

Winter is ending.  Spring in Santa Cruz is the hot and dry time of the year.  Enjoy your fall weather while I bake.

Day 81 - Sunday Morning at Berea

Sunday Morning at Berea

I told you before that Berea is pastored by the husband of one of my former students.  She was an MK, whose parents were missionaries with World Gospel Mission.  Sometimes the love of a place that was not originally your home happens.  She returned from college and married a seminary student.  She was the valedictorian the year I left and it is possible that her daughter will be valedictorian the first year I am back.

Getting here takes 20 minutes in a taxi and costs 20 Bs. (about $3), though some want 25, approaching $4.  The cost is the same on the return trip, unless I can find a bus or micro.  So the distance to and from this place is making me wonder if I should look for a place in this area once my lease is up.  If I was closer, I could be here several nights a week and getting to know this church better.

Today, like many Sundays, after a crazy taxi ride (today my taxi driver and another wanted to play bumper cars), I arrived a little late.  Pastor starts the worship at 9:45, but the official start is 10:00.  I arrived around 9:50. Pastor Percy was not upstairs in the sanctuary.  So I wondered if my clock was way off this morning.  I greeted him and he said the first service was not over yet.

Berea has two services, one at 8:00 and one at 10:00.   A seminary student was preaching both services and he had not finished preaching in the first service.  He did finish by 10:00 though. 

I discovered as I was going into the sanctuary that the student was Gustavo, one of the men who helps to lead the worship service on Sundays.  I like him.  He greets me almost every Sunday, though the church is big and not easy to greet everyone.  He speaks a little English so tries some English on me. 

Future pastor Gustavo

Berea always has a beautiful worship service.  They sing around three very active songs, so the people around me are clapping in beat to the music and some get a little bouncy.  That is followed by two or three slower, worship songs.  I think the worship service sets the mood for the entire service.  It sets my mood for at least Sunday, sometimes beyond.

Erika leading worship

Gustavo preached from Revelation 16.  The basic premise of his sermon is that Jesus is coming soon.  The signs around us point to that.  Some might say, “I’ve heard that all my life.”  But that also is a sign pointing to the return of Jesus.  In 2 Peter 3, it says people will ask where is this coming that was promised?  Not asking to know when it is, but to mock it and say I’ve heard that all my life. 

Jesus is returning soon.  I don’t know when.  Before you read this?  Two weeks from today?  When he does return, will you be ready?  I know for me that causes a lot of reflection.  Am I ready for Christ or will I be embarrassed when he returns?

Thank you, Gustavo, for the good message. 

Leaving the upstairs sanctuary

The sign painted on the wall of the first picture says "Buscad a Jesus" - search for the LORD.    This is part of the 2016 revival theme from Isaiah 55:6 which says, "Seek the LORD while He may be found; call on Him while He is near."  The revival is all week long, but we all need to seek the LORD before it is too late for us.

Day 78 - Onesimus

Onesimus

I had a partially finished novel I wanted to finish after Spartan Sisters.  It is a novel taken from a dream I had about 18 years ago and an incident that happened on a high school trip to Italy.  I am calling it Remembering Sorrento.  It has some work, but will be enjoyable to write.

That said, I have been feeling the need to work on a novel that just has a basic outline.  The main character and name of the novel will be Onesimus.  Most people don’t know who he is.  He is mentioned in the book of Colossians as the deliverer of the letter from Paul, and he is the subject of the book of Philemon.

In Philemon we find out only a little about him.  He is a runaway slave owned by Philemon.  Somehow he ended up in Rome, while Paul was waiting for his trial.  What transpired while in Rome is never said in any of those books, but in Paul’s letter to Philemon, Paul says he is his son.  Of course, he was not Paul’s physical son, but was probably converted to Christianity by Paul, so he became Paul’s spiritual son.

From Wikipedia

I have an idea of starting this novel with Onesimus being from a village that is captured by the Romans and sold as a slave.  He ends up, as just a child, for sale in one of the great cities of the Roman Empire, Ephesus.  He is then bought to be a slave, and childhood companion of Philemon, of Colossae.  The name Onesimus is a slave name that means useful.  You would not name your child this, but you would call your slave this.  In the intervening years, Philemon and his household become Christian, and the Church of Colossae meets in their home.  Yet the slave, Onesimus, does not become a Christian.  As a slave, he hears about the “freedom” in Christ and resents it as a mockery since he is a slave.

The book of Philemon does not give explicit details, but apparently Onesimus steals from his master and escapes, eventually arriving in Rome.  I see the interval between these two events as Onesimus falling into sin that wrecks his life.  I won’t give you the details yet.  In Rome he meets Paul, who is there only two years, before he is executed by Nero. 

Saint Paul in the Church of Saint John Lateran in Rome

Sometime in that two years, Onesimus becomes a believer.  Either he or Paul sees the necessity of returning to Colossae to make it right with his master, Philemon.  The letter is Paul’s introduction to Philemon of the new Onesimus, no longer a slave, but a brother in Christ.  This letter is one of the shortest books in the bible, but one of the most powerful.  It is a book on forgiveness. 

There is an Onesimus that appears in some church histories as the Bishop of Ephesus, and in others as the Bishop of Byzantium.  Ephesus was close to Colossae.  So what if the Onesimus of the book of Philemon became a leader of the early church? 

Spartan Sisters is finished, so now I am beginning work on Onesimus.

This is my idea.  What do you think?

Link to Spartan Sisters on Amazon