Good Byes and the Time Machine

Good Byes

One week ago I woke up really sad, after several days of doing the same.  It was the day I was leaving Cochabamba.  Brendon and I were showered in blessings, good wishes, good company, and tears all day long.  We received a special sending at church from our neighbors, we enjoyed a nice brunch with all our roommates, we had tea with our wonderful sisters, and then it was time to go.  A ten year old neighbor played his recorder for us as a good bye song before we began hugging everyone good-bye.  I can't describe the difficulty of that moment but perhaps to give you the image of the ten year old that had just played the recorder for us, grabbing me around the waist, hanging on to me with all his strength, and tears flooding down his face.  I have to admit they were doing the same on mine.

Time Machine

And now, here we are a week later, in Denver after three days of flights to get here plus my two additional flights to go to Minnesota and back.  It has been wonderful to get time with family and friends, no matter how brief.  I don't know if you have ever been able to be in a time machine but this is what I imagine it to be like.  My body is way ahead of my insides.  All week long, in moments of joy and new surroundings, I would find myself also sad, the tears of last Sunday's good byes still lingering.  My body is confused by large shiny cars, fast food everywhere, English.  I am in a new world, one that is dramatically different than the one I was in before.  Somehow, it is familiar, and I feel like it should be comfortable like an old sweatshirt or something, but its not.  I look at everything with big eyes, wondering exactly how I got here.  Now that I am off the time machine, hopefully it will slow down and I will be able to begin to make sense of the world around me again.  I am so so grateful that both ends of the time machine have people that I love so much and one in particular that has traveled and will continue to travel this journey with me.

Neighbors

Less than two months left in Bolivia!!!  Ah!  Sure, I am excited to return to the states for some reasons like Cheez-Its, not being terrified for my life every time I see a salad, snow...  but otherwise, I am having a hard time imagining leaving.

Since I last wrote, Brendon and I have been concentrating a lot of our time and efforts in the neighborhood.  Hockey took off flying and has continued to be a regular thing two nights a week.  It has drawn out a lot of different people in the neighborhood and continued to be an avenue to get to know all our neighbors.  The regular crowd tends to be 5 to 15 year olds playing hockey with us with all the older kids hanging around the sidelines.  And, of course, new people still pass by or hop in which is always fun.  By sitting on the sidelines with the different groups, I have had an opportunity to meet most of them.  We keep getting to know everybody better and better but when I think about leaving, it feels too soon.  We are just getting started!!!

I still have not met most of the young women of the neighborhood.  They don't "go out" at night the way the boys do.  I try to ask where their sisters are but they like to just shrug and say, "she doesn't like to go out".  I did start a little girls' sports group a couple of months ago for girls ages 7-10. I was inspired by a girl who only has brothers and didn't know how to play soccer.  Girls that live only one block apart have been able to meet and get to hang out for an hour or so every week.  It is nothing earth shattering but the girls really enjoy it so that is something.

Brendon and I are also each helping out at different "apoyos" or before/after school programs.  I work with high schoolers while he works with younger kids.  Many of the kids overlap with our direct neighborhood and then the others expand into the nearby hoods.  It continues to be a great way to build relationships and make connections with those around us.

But, it still feels like I am at the beginning of all these relationships.  We have been able to have some of the University guys over and teach them Settlers of Catan (a board game) which is super fun.  We can't walk outside or go to the local corner store without knowing almost everybody.  But we still don't know anyone well.   I feel like I am just beginning to feel Bolivian, to understand the norms of the culture, to get to know people's stories and start to truly learn from them.  The more ways we get involved in the neighborhood, the more we find stories and lives overlapping, things making more sense.  This is really starting to feel like my community.  Two months to live it up.

Futbol and...

HOCKEY!!!

I have been playing soccer every Thursday since the beginning of my time here with the same neighborhood "team" made up of boys and young men that work and live at a factory making jeans.  They shyly accepted me at first when I asked them if I could play and as the weeks have passed, I believe we have become friends through our conversations on the sidelines and joking around on the field.

Most of the team is away visiting their families on summer or holiday vacation right now but a few of the boys are still living there. So, when Brendon and I returned from Peru, we went out to play with them.  Brendon just moved into my neighborhood (yay!!!) and was quickly accepted onto the "team".

We also found out that a person from Maryknoll who had returned to the states, had left field hockey sticks in a storage garage. He had started a field hockey league in another part of the city but left a year ago so the sticks had been collecting dust ever since.  Brendon and I went and rescued the sticks from their idle fate and asked the soccer boys if they wanted to learn how to play hockey.

I did not know what to expect but as we walked across the big dirt soccer field with the sticks one Saturday night, we immediately attracted attention. What started as 5 of us, quickly turned into more.  We began playing on the little concrete soccer field and to our amazement, the amount of neighbors on the sidelines continued to just grow.  We had to teach most of them how to hold the stick and we simply instructed them that the rules are the same as soccer except you can not kick the ball.  It takes most people a few minutes to get the hang of the stick but really, they are programmed for hockey since soccer is a part of their blood. 

An interesting aspect of the soccer culture though, is that one, it is almost exclusively men.  Two, if you do not learn it or like it when you are young, it is hard to join in when you are older because everybody is already good and knows what they are doing.  Street hockey, we have found, levels the playing field.  The very first night we had 8 year old boys, 25 year old male athletes, and 40 year old women out there playing on the same court.

We played for hours and when we finally called it quits, they circled around us, asking us when we would play again with strong suggestions for "tomorrow".

We have played a few times in the last week and a half and every time I am surprised again.  New neighbors coming out to play, the middle schooler that refused to play because he was afraid of getting made fun of finally making it onto the court, a young girl who has never played soccer getting out their and playing with her father and brothers.  I have learned more of my neighbors names in the last week and a half than I was able to for the first six months.  It is incredible. 

It is summer break right now so perhaps hockey will slow down as people get back to their busy lives but even if it does, relationships have been formed between us and neighbors and between neighbors that otherwise never interact - and that can't be undone.  I am so happy and excited about this new adventure.  I have been healthy enough that I get to teach people something new, play a game I love, and share it all with the man I am going to marry!