I Have a Feeling

So you know those obnoxious mattress commercials? How the girls in them somehow always wake up with their hair falling in perfect ringlets around their surely makeup-less face that somehow looks caked in mascara and lipstick and they leave you jealous and hoping no one ever secretly hides a camera in your room when you get out of bed?

Well, hate to break it to you, but I’m like the girls in the commercials.

Oh just kidding. I look like I got hit by a truck.

And this is why when I got up Wednesday morning at 5:15 am to pack up and head out on the homeward journey, I put a hat on my head. Because I wanted to keep my friends.

I was walking around doing my thing which consisted of packing and brushing my teeth and wondering if the sun had forgotten to rise as it was black outside when I felt something squirm in my head.

Now if I were to think back to myself about six months ago, if something were to squirm in my head I would have probably maintained the calmness of a chicken on fire with its head cut off. But now that I have lived for six months with cockroaches and tarantulas and lice and rats and other cute creatures, I responded with a mere hm what’s that. And that’s it, folks. That’s it.

I left the creature in my head.

A few minutes later it happened again. Same story. Did nothing.

And then again. But this time it really moved. A lot. And I was more than convinced that there really was a creature in my hair.

Yeah. Still did nothing. I think I am insane.

Anyways, all to say, that explains why when I later took the hat off a six inch lizard jumped off my head and onto the ground. I looked over at Candace who saw it all, and we shared the amusement of what that little dude must have been doing up in the wonderland of my messy hair.

And then I thought wow. I am a jungle beast.

Manfred and David made us a wonderful breakfast of cheese bread deep fried in oil (loaded with nutrients I’m sure) and hot chocolate which truly tastes American. Eating together with the boys for the last time was very sad.

I mean this sincerely: I did not want to leave. When we loaded up on the horses to say goodbye, my heart was breaking. Those were four of the greatest days of my life and I will never be able to forget them. I wish I could live them over and over again.

Those four days are so precious in my heart.

So as we took off on our horses and Candace and I blew kisses goodbye, I tried to comfort myself with the thought that I will see them again in just a couple weeks as they make their way back here for school.

I shall now tell you about my experience on my horse.

You know those horse wrangler cowboot wearer impressive people in the movies? Well, I am not one of them.

And by not one of them, I mean I am the screaming girl in the background who doesn’t make it into the movie.

My darling horse for the way back really liked trees and branches that threaten to cut my head off and also thorns.

I am surprised my shirt is still in one piece. Also myself.

One time my horse randomly decided to take its own turn and send me trotting through the woods screaming, “CANDACE CANDACE CANDACE.” Pretty soon Jesus (who came along with us so he could bring the horses back and who also happens to really know what he is doing) came and found me and took the rope that was tied to my horse and held it in his hand and led my horse and I for quite some time. It was rather embarrassing. I shall blame it on my horse.

Eventually I kind of got the hang of things. In fact, I haven’t galloped on a horse since I was about thirteen years old, so I decided to give it a try and it was as fabulous as I remember. I mean besides the fact I was wearing a backpack which didn’t bounce in sequence with me and also there was a giant metal water filter tied to my horse and I’m sure he didn’t enjoy running around with that too much. But other than that it was great.

I shall now tell you an embarrassing story in which I lacked common sense.

There are two basic facts you need to know:

Jesus has grown up on a ranch. He is a horse beast.

I have not grown up on a ranch. I am not a horse beast.

Which is why I am unsure why the brilliant idea to race Jesus on our horses ever crossed my mind.

Basically Jesus and his horse were behind me and he was slowly catching up. I think maybe I wanted to redeem myself from the booking it through the woods experience cuz yeah. As he approached I kicked my horse to get it going faster and shot him a yeah I’m faster smile. In which, of course, he shot me a Teacher you’re insane (he was right) smile and got his horse going, too.

So then I gave my horse a real big kick. Which is when it happened.

My darling little horse took off galloping. Very fast. All is well, right?

NO. ALL IS NOT WELL.

Because, out of nowhere, my horse took a very direct turn to the left, entered a gate, and sent me galloping into a herd of cows.

Now I don’t know about you, but when I picture my comfort zone I do not picture galloping on a horse I barely know threw a random herd of hundreds of cows in the middle of Bolivia. I more so picture sitting in my room alone with cake, ice cream, coffee, and all things good.

But here I am. On my horse. Watching cows moo and part and stare me down with their evil eyes while I try my best to remain calm and collected and do so

NOT. AT. ALL.

I am screaming, “JESUS! JESUS!” trying to get him to come save me but when I turned to see if he was coming to save me he was comfortably sitting on his oh so controlled and well behaved horse laughing at me.

My top three fears in this moment included:

1.) Falling off my horse and being trampled by cows.

2.) Staying on my horse and being trampled by cows.

3.) Being trampled by cows.

I am happy and thankful to report that I was not trampled by cows. I somehow managed to get my horse out of there.

We survived. Jesus won the race.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, at least compared to that.

Armando and I got stuck very far behind. In fact, we wondered if we had somehow gotten onto the wrong path. But we distracted ourselves with singing Feliz Navidad and I got a little Spanish lesson from him and we had a little horse photo shoot and soon enough we were almost to our final destination.

As we approached the gate that would lead us to Casa Blanca where everyone else was waiting, he said, “Teacher, look! There’s the boys’ parents!”

I looked to see them coming on a motorcycle.

It was so exciting to me that we somehow managed to be there at the exact same time, so I smiled super big and yelled HOLA across the field.

Which is about when I realized it wasn’t their parents after all. In fact, I still don’t know who it was.

I still wonder what they think of that random white girl who was so oh very thrilled to see them for the very first time.

I am thoroughly embarrassed.

Now I shall tell you about what happened next.

First, you should know that we were at Casa Blanca, which is in a town a three hour taxi ride away from Rurre, where the orphanage is.

So here we are, sitting at this station, waiting for a taxi to drive by in the direction of Rurre.

We waited.

And we waited.

And we waited some more.

After one or two hours, we came to the genius and obvious group decision that a taxi probably wasn’t coming.

Around this time, I turned to Candace and said, “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be a normal trip back. Something crazy is going to happen.”

Truer words have never been said.

Okay that’s probably not true. It is possibly truer to say I almost got stampeded by a herd of cows. But those words were very true.

So low and behold, in front of us stood a giant (as in a semi) truck straight up loaded with planks of wood. And attached to it was a trailer, pulling even more wood.

Jonathan and Armando decided to ask the truck driver which direction he was going.

And what do you know, he was headed toward Rurre.

And that is how Jonathan, Armando, Candace, and I found ourselves on the very top of a truck, sitting on planks of wood under the hot sun, thoroughly feeling each and every bump as our truck inched its way to Rurrenabaque.

Now I distinctly remember checking my watch when we got on top of the truck.

It was more or less 2:30 pm.

So I figured we would get to Rurre around 5:30 pm, or maybe a tiny bit later as this big truck was probably a little slower than a taxi.

Now keep in mind the roads of Bolivia. Take the beautiful black paved roads of America and throw three feet of dirt and some rocks on top and then dig a whole lot of potholes. There you have it. There are also animals.

Which might partly explain why at 10:30 pm (Yes. You read that correctly. This is eight hours later) we were still sitting on top of the truck.

And other than an hour pitstop in Santa Rosa, we had been dodging potholes the entire time.

So now, late at night, out of nowhere, the truck stopped on the side of the road. And then we heard the truck driver get out, grab some tools, and start doing a little somethin to the tires.

Jonathan leaned over and asked him if he needed any help.

He abruptly responded no.

He probably wasn’t the very friendliest person I have ever met. Even though we never exchanged words, I feel like our relationship was slightly awkward. But I'm sure he's a super nice guy, especially since he let us catch a ride on the top of his truck.

So anyways….we just kinda all laid down on the top of the truck. And waited.

Now the following happenings are very strange but I need you to sincerely know, from the bottom of my heart, I am speaking the truth and nothing but the truth.

For the next two or three hours, the truck would start. We would drive forward for about thirty seconds. Then the truck would stop, the driver would get out and do something to the tires, and then it would start again. For thirty seconds, maybe a couple minutes on a good one, and then it’d stop and he’d work on something again.

For. Hours.

The thoughts that went through my head during this time included things such as this:

What is happening.

If I wasn’t a giraffe maybe I could stretch out enough without having this dumb metal bar stab my leg and actually get some sleep.

Where is Taco Bell.

So now fast forward to midnight. The truck stops. Completely.

And I kid you not. We slept on top of that truck in the middle of the road in the middle of nowhere in the middle of Bolivia until 5:30 am with the truck driver sleeping soundly beneath us.

And then, at 5:30, we called it quits.

We climbed down the truck with our stuff (in the midst of this I was rather exhausted and multiple times ran into poles and stuff) and took off walking down the road.

Good morning, Bolivia. We are hitchhikers.

After stopping a couple times to rest and bake in the sun and such, a truck finally passed with a very kind driver who gave us a ride to Rurre.

Immediately Jonathan called his friend who picked us up and drove us to Narguilla’s, the restaurant we eat at every Sunday.

Low and behold they were out of food (what is life)  so we booked it to the French Bakery down the street and I bought a very large amount of food and ate it oh so quickly. I kinda felt sick.

But what I failed to mention is that from 6:30 am Wednesday to 10:30 am Thursday, our food intake consisted of the breakfast the boys made us and chocolate cookies.

We were all starving. Also pulsing with health (sarcasm).

So yes, my friends. That is how a three hour taxi ride turned into a twenty hour top of a truck riding, middle of the road sleeping, hitchhiking experience. That is how we made it to Rurre.

It was one of the strangest experiences of my life.

And next time I “have a feeling?” I’m bringing a mattress and a sandwich.

Any Better

So I’m sitting in the hammock at the boys’ house because, well, that’s pretty much the main thing we did over there. And what’s there to complain about? I like my eno, I like the breeze, I love talking to these kids.

But while I’m sitting there swinging away, Jesus came over with a horse. Now, you must understand something about Jesus. He is so sweet and he loves his horses. This fifteen year old boy is a teddy bear, especially when his animals are around. Every day we were there we would watch him bring over a horse, comb its hair, trim its tail, and pet it gently on the face. It was absolutely precious.

But this time? It was different than usual. He brought over this beautiful white horse and started trimming its mane with scissors. More thoughtfully than I had seen before. He was doing it with so much care. And, before he was finished, all his brothers had joined him and, together, they started saddling up the horse.

But they weren’t just throwing on whatever was closest or most convenient. They were putting so much thought and time into every piece of equipment they put onto that horse. So here’s Jesus, David, Manfred, and Jahel, talking up a storm,

No these reins are better.

No these are better.

Ah, these. Perfect.

And Jesus, the oldest one, was obviously the ringleader of it all.

So pretty soon I started to get curious as to what was going on, and where this boy was going.

So Candace and I asked them.

Where are you going, Jesus?

He pointed in the direction away from the house, Very far away.

For what?

Something, he said.

To get a girlfriend, his brothers readily chimed in.

I laughed, but they insisted they were serious.

And so I believed it. I mean I didn’t think he was literally going to get himself a girlfriend. But I figured there was some girl out there somewhere and he had something to do or say and wanted to look impressive when he did so.

Rather adorable, I must say.

So I sat back down and continued to watch as these four brothers dressed up this horse.  A few minutes later they were finished. The horse and Jesus were ready. I asked Jesus one more time, Where are you going?!

Very far away, Teacher.

And as he took off, he looked over his shoulder and asked, Will you come take a picture?

Now he wants one. These boys hate pictures, with the exception of Jahel.
But the horse looked beautiful, and he looked adorable, so I figured he wanted to remember what he looked like the night he went to “get a girl” or whatever he was going to do.

So I got up and started following these boys through the trees. They headed past the kitchen and outhouse and out into a huge open field I didn’t even know existed back there. They argued back and forth with each other about where the perfect place for the picture would be. When they finally agreed, Jesus hopped off his horse, threw out that weird hand sign all those boys do, and I snapped a few shots. They turned out pretty grand I must say.

Jonathan ran in to get in the picture with him. The boys handed him a cowboy hat and soon enough I had pictures of Jesus and the horse and Jonathan and Jesus and the horse, and, well, just Jonathan and the horse.

Goodness, when is this boy going to leave? I asked myself.

Teacher, come get in one with me! Jesus said.

Super excited, I ran over and hopped on the horse. Might I just add I was wearing a skirt so that was inconvenient. But hey, things happen.

Jesus hopped on the horse with me and one of the boys snapped a picture. Wait, wait! Manfred shouted, running over with the hat. I put it on and smiled ear to ear, which was incredibly easy to do as I was surrounded by these precious boys.

Then Jesus hopped off and they took a picture of just me on the horse.

And that’s when I realized. Jesus wasn’t going anywhere. All of the grooming and saddle deciding and picking out the perfect things for the perfect horse? They didn’t do it for Jesus to visit a pretty girl far down the road. They did all this for us.

They did it for their teachers.

They did it so we could get pictures with the boys and of the boys and so now? The four days that would be so hard to forget will be, well, even harder.

Impossible.

So we spent the next hour or two switching in and out of being in pictures and taking pictures. The sun was setting, it was cool outside, and the sound of laughter did not leave the air.

The brothers got pictures together. Candace and I each got a picture with all the brothers. David and Jesus jumped on together and I got the cutest picture of these two cowboys I ever did see.

And I honestly do not know how to put into words how I felt that night. Here I am, hours deep into the jungle, with four of the most precious children I have ever known in my life. Three of these boys grew up on this ranch, never having electricity or running water. David grew up working on a sawmill, and a few years ago his mom married the other boys’ dad and now he is one of them, using a flashlight to cook at night, eating at a table with a burning candle, and getting up early every morning to hall buckets of water from the creek.

And here I am, a girl who has always had every single thing I could ever want or need readily available to me. I’ve grown up with air conditioning when its hot and heat when its cold. I have cold or hot water 24/7, if it is dark I turn a light switch on, and any food or item I could possibly want is no more than a short car ride away.

But being there in that field with those boys? It made me realize how little any of that matters. Life is life, no matter where you live. And what matters is not what you have or own but the people you are surrounded by. The people you get to know and love.

And the fact I have been so incredibly fortunate to get to know and love these boys who live literally in the middle of nowhere and whose home is not even on a map? I can’t tell you how thankful I am. I cannot tell you.

And so I just stood out there, hopping on and off the horse, laughing away and taking so many pictures that I’ve already looked though again and again and looking around as the sun set on the field and I watched these four boys I get to live with and teach and visit at their home and thinking to myself

It doesn’t get any better than this.

It doesn’t get any better.

David, Jesus, me, Manfred, and Jahel.
Four boys who changed my life in four days.

Mosquitoes and Tetris

So once upon a time there were four boys by the names of Jesus, David, Manfred, and Jahel who lived in the middle of the jungle without electricity or running water and went to Familia Feliz for school where I met them and now I love them a whole very lot.

So the other day whenever Miguel offered for us to join him on a journey to visit them at their house, my reaction was somewhat like

OH MY GOODNESS IS THIS REAL CAN I REALLY GO OH MY GOODNESS I WANT TO GO RIGHT NOW WHERE’S THE CONFETTI LET’S CELEBRATE.

So that’s how I found myself getting up at 7:30 am Friday morning and hopping onto a taxi along with Miguel, Jonathan, Candace, Courtney, Kevin, and Armando and heading on our way.

Now let me tell you what “heading on our way” consisted of.

First there was a three hour taxi ride. It was actually pretty fun. We kept ourselves entertained by playing games three-year-olds probably enjoy, but hey. That’s okay. We gon play it anyway! (That was a poem. Also a representation of the kind of games we played.)

We arrived at Casa Blanca around 11am, which is precisely when Manfred, one of the boys, was supposed to meet us with the horses that we would take on a four or five hour ride through the jungle to his house.

Let me tell you something wonderful (and by wonderful I mean not wonderful) about Bolivia.

Everything is late. Always.

So around one we decided Manfred probably wasn’t coming.

Let me tell you something else about Bolivia. Everything is kind of whatever.

Like when we asked the stranger standing nearby if we could ride his horses into the jungle and he was all like sure.

You know. Riding a stranger’s horses. It’s whatever.

And so that is how I found myself on a random horse of this random dude riding through the random jungle. It was actually pretty enjoyable, besides the fact it was the most uncomfortable thing ever. I was carrying my backpack of all my stuff and the sun was having the time of its life destroying all happiness and the horse was going that speed which allows you to thoroughly and completely feel every single bump. But other than that, I really enjoyed myself. Truly.

A couple hours in we found Manfred with the horses. So soon after we did a little switcheroo, said thanks and goodbye to the stranger and his horses, and went with Manfred the rest of the way. Manfred was walking and told me he didn’t want to walk anymore and since he had already come so far just to get us and I figured we were almost to his house anyways, I gave him my horse.

Yeah. That was an incorrect assumption.

Basically I walked through deep mud for a couple hours and questioned things such as my sanity. 

But I did see Manfred chase an alligator through a little swamp with the horse I had been riding, so that was rather fun.

And then, finally, we made it to the boys' home. We made it to their ranch.

I was greeted by Jahel, which is probably the most wonderful sight in the world to be greeted by. That boy. He has my heart.

And then I saw David and Jesus and their little sister and baby brother (who is barely two months old) and their parents and oh my goodness it was so very exciting.

Oh I have missed them.

Believe it or not, after that ride I happened to be gross. As did Candace and Courtney. So soon after we arrived we got our stuff together and headed to the shower.

Now by shower I mean a pump. Nearby a swamp water pond thing.

And that, friends, is how I got eaten alive by mosquitoes.

That was probably the most miserable shower of my entire life.

It consisted of standing in the middle of an open field, pumping cold water into a bucket to splash on myself, and in the midst of that unsuccessfully attempting to kill all the mosquitoes that were quite successfully attempting to kill me.

OH MY WORD SO MANY MOSQUITOES AND THEY LOVED ME FAR TOO MUCH. THE LOVE WAS NOT MUTUAL.

Candace, Courtney, and I were literally going insane.

And I mean that sincerely, as we couldn’t find the soap so we showered without soap. And then right after we showered without soap we found the soap.

But we survived it. Barely.

Although we probably weren't very clean because we showered without soap. Or a shower.

The parents had made us supper so we sat in the kitchen at the table around a candle. So sweet.

And then we went to bed. And by bed I mean we went to rocks.

We brought a tent, but not really any padding. Which is how I ended up playing tetris in my sleep. Literally. I fit around the rocks to try to sleep. But was rather unsuccessful. In fact, I woke up at 2:30 am to throw up so that was wonderful fun. (sorry for the TMI)

And that, folks, was the first day.

Kinda cray.

BUT. The next day we rode cows. And hung out in the hammocks. And had a little church service. It was wonderful.

And that was supposed to be the only day. We made the long crazy journey for one day there with those kids. But? Jonathan, Candace, Armando, and I ended up staying four.

And those, sincerely, were four of the greatest days of my life.

Hanging out there with those boys was some of the most fun I have ever had. Ever.

We crossed the river twice to visit their uncle’s house. In a little boat.

We cooked and ate together.

We hung out in the hammocks for hours.

We watched the boys take care of their animals and work on their ranch and make us question if hearts can get much bigger.

I got to experience a life completely different from anything I have ever known.

I am so thankful for those memories.

Yes, getting there was insane. But you know what I’ve learned? Insane stuff can be just fine when you’re surrounded by the right people. Which I was. I am.

And also? I would make that journey again and again and again to spend that time with those boys.

I kid you not. It was so worth it.

These kids make everything so worth it.

75

January 20

I decided to go on a raw diet. For those of you who don’t know, that means I can only eat food that is raw.

(Hence the reason it’s called a raw diet.)

It also means I can’t eat a lot of things. Like rice and beans and stirfried vegetables and vanilla cheesecake and cookie dough ice cream and cheesy pizza.

Sometimes I don’t really make conscious decisions. It’s more like I’m with a group of friends and they’re hey like let’s go climb that mountain and I’m kind of in my own world but they decide to bring me along anyways and before I know it I’m like whoa. I’m at the top of a mountain.

Which is why a passing conversation with Kevin, Miguel, and Candace has since left me several times eyeing the Almond Sweet and Salty bars in the room and thinking about the Nutella hidden in my suitcase or the ten pound bag of pancake mix I brought from America (ridiculous I know I have come to full acceptance) and crying a little bit.

A lot.

But besides those moments of complete and utter despair I feel ABSOLUTELY GREAT. I probably have nutrients the size of this country going through my body right now and also I have drunk (drinked. dranken. dronkted. What is grammer?) a whole three fruit smoothies just today which is one of my favorite things ever next to random free back massages so I’d say it’s not too bad.

I shall now update you on the fabulous happenings of this lugar. That is Spanish for place.

For one, today I think I sweat out a pool. As dramatic and exaggerated as that may sound, I fear I might actually be being honest.

This morning we decided to hand weed the garden. That lasted about thirty minutes. We have now decided to slash the garden with the use of a weedwhacker and gasoline. I definitely voted in favor of that decision.

We’ve had different people and volunteers come through these past couple weeks. It has been so great getting to know new people who all have been so kind and generous and giving. There’s a lot of really good people in this world.

I’ve actually managed to stay on top of my laundry since coming back from America and I’m pretty impressed with myself and say this in hopes that you will be, too. Thanks.

Oh! There are two new boys, Kepler and Jay, who are going to go to school here next year and have moved in early. And they are keepers. I am so excited for them to be here this next school year.

I have decided to make cockroaches illegal.

Also the rule that you can’t eat nutella on a raw diet.

For a little while my bed was on too many mattresses as I stacked them up in order to be more comfortable. But the truth is it made my bed into a little bowl, one of which I was much too big for. So I kind of slept like the opposite of a baby, whatever that is. Whatever it was it was awful. But last night Candace and I took out one of the mattresses and now I am totes comf again. So all is well on that side of things.

And, in far more important news.

We have decided to accept up to 75 students this upcoming year.

Last semester the most we ever had was 49.

This is a huge step of faith. It is a huge leap. It is a huge change.

Instead of living with eight little boys, I will now live with eleven or twelve.

Oh my goodness. It can seem overwhelming.

But whenever we are sitting there together talking about it? Whenever I see new, taller stacks of plates and bowls in the kitchen? Whenever I see bunkbeds being moved and built?

I think of all the kids I have met and gotten to know in these past five months. I think about how much I love them.

And I mean this sincerely when I say it: I love them more than words could ever explain. I love them. So. Much.

And then I think of all the new kids that will be coming, who I get to cook for and tuck in at night and teach and help and be “Teacher Darian” to….

and oh my goodness. I cannot wait.

I just cannot get over the fact I get to be here. I cannot believe I get to be with these kids.

And I can't believe I get to meet and love even more.

I am so thankful.

I am so thankful to be in a place where the gates are open, new challenges are accepted, and every little kid that enters is loved. Even if there's a whole 75.