Untouchable

I´m walking down the steep hills and cobble stone streets to the market on my way to the market in Villa Fatima (all excited because I am going to make a pumpkin pie from a whole pumpkin and give some friends here a taste of one of my favorite Thanksgiving delicacies). The crisp fresh air whips across my nose changing it to a rosy-gringo red. I am content and happy, pondering about my day, the visits I did, the people I saw at the clinic, and the time that I have spent here so far. Then I look up the hill from where I have come and on a roof top of one of the brick homes above me I see

a young boy. He is as content as can be and spreads his arms open wide and screams, “I´m on top of the world…no one can touch me here!” You ever have that feeling? Where you think you are untouchable and unstoppable? I have, I mean I think I am now sometimes. That´s when you get a little knock on the door and God will wake you up. I enjoyed the young boy´s innocent euphoria as he sits high above everyone, peering down in his safely elevated nook. But it got me thinking. Yeah it´s great to be comfortable and safe…but when we are comfortable and safe like that do we really feel like we need God? Here, more than any other country, I have been put in my place and humbled to know that I need God. He is here amongst the pain and suffering, he is here among the poor, He is here to show is power even in the smallest miracles. In example, providing bread for a family of 9 for a day, I didn´t want to visit them empty handed and luckily stumbled upon some freshly baked bread on my way there. I like when He uses me…it makes me feel important!

I found a way to connect with the adultos mayores! Who doesn´t like to cook? We had a teacher come and teach us some recipes…ones that will definitely be repeated in the states! Empanadas anyone? Or maybe some tempting pasteles por api? Cooking with five elderly, stubborn women is quite hilarious. They all have their way of doing things…and something called a recipe is almost a foreign language to them. But in the end, with the combined forces of us all (along with the guidance of a very patient, government paid cook) did we result in amazing postres! I have to say, I am proud of us all. They were so funny as they chatted away and formed the most perfect empanadas (why can´t my fingers work so smoothly as theirs?). They insist that I learn aymara and that I change my visa to a year rather than my departure date of sept 2^nd…aaahhh so soon!

This week consisted of many home visits. I enjoy going to visit them…you know bring the help to them rather than wait for them to come to us. Only, it´s hard to see how they live and the pain that some of them are in. We hiked up some steep roads and gasped up intense stairs to many homes. How does this elder with a bad foot do it? I am continually impressed with the toughness and stamina of the people here. Now, if I go to complain about something, I think twice. One woman had fallen down her steps and resulted in sprains, broken rib, black swollen eye which can´t be opened, and a hematoma covering half of her head. This case alone encourage Omar and I to begin brain storming. Why is there no emergency health care here? Would it be really hard to start one? What would we need to have a “911” service for the people of the periferica? Would we give a home number to call or should we have a clinic too? These are all just heavy questions that begin a project. I hope that Omar can continue with his dream. Maybe I could come back and ensure that it gets done…gota be a doctor first.

As my flight gets closer and closer, the doctors are planning my nights and weekends. All my free time is now devoted to do the things on “my list of things to do while in Bolivia.” Interestingly enough, among that list is to eat a cow heart with this savory peanut sauce--anticucho. No worries, I´ll get to check that off tomorrow as I cook it with the dentista Rita. I´ll let you know how it goes…I hear its healthy. I also go to the lake Titicaca (Rachel you can stop laughing now) tomorrow. It is one of the largest lakes here and is the highest lake in the world.

Today after work I got drug along with Dra. Paula, Dr. Omar, and Dr. Rita to go to a calvario. Nope…had no idea what it was. But Bolivians are full of tradition and also a little suspicion, so I knew it would be interesting as we went higher and higher. Rita had taken a stone from the river a year ago. Now as she took it she wished for a good year, fortune, health and all that good stuff. A year has passed and today was the day to return the stone to its home. That means we were carrying a 20 pound stone with us…and beer (what´s a ceremony without beer?). We had an indigenous—somewhat religious—man pray over the rock and say a lot of

other stuff in aymara. I am sure it was blessings and what not. He also added incense and poured beer on the fire…and on us. He filled our hands with the foam of the beer and you had to put it in your pocket since it represented money and wealth. It was an interesting experience. After it all Rita was blessed because she brought back her stone and we all shared a beer. And the elderly man who blessed us with his chants, incense, and fire then asked me to take him with me to the states (as he winks he said his partner wouldn´t mind). Makes me wonder if this is all a gimmick or Rita truly will have a year full of fortune, wealth and health. I´ll pray for the second.