Thoughts from rural Bolivia part II

Sunday, March 16th.

Fresh cow's milk tastes like thick cream to someone who's only drank skim milk her whole life. I just can't believe I drank a whole cup of milk straight from the udders of a cow. I even saw the mom milking it. I gave most of it to Lisbeth.

I had gone to the river yesterday with Vismar, who turned out to be my little guide for the rest of my stay. We went with Yaneth to wash the children's clothes. That bolivian soap is STRONG, let me tell you. Nearly took of my skin.

I really wanted to go back to the river, (one of the most beautiful places I've seen anywhere, wedged between the motherly mountains and filled with greenery) and waited until Vismar came back home to take me. When Vismar came back from selling bread (fried dough to be exact), we went down to the river, met his mother washing clothes on the way, and picked up his little brother, Eddie, on the way. While they swam, I sat and watched them, while trying to clean my shoes (they had already started to emit an unpleasant, goat-like odor).

On the way back, Vismar decided to make a pit stop at my 'amiga's' house. He kept asking me what her name was, but I had no idea which 'amiga' he was talking about. 'Mi amiga' as it turns out, was Julia Schute. Her family has a number of apple trees in their yard and the apples were soo delicious. Their house was also much nicer than the house my family lived in. More property, plaster walls, and nicer furniture.

It was nice to see someone I knew, a friendly face that I knew that wouldn't laugh at me for not knowing how to wash clothes by hand or peel potatoes with a blunt knife. This stay in the village definitely made me realize how privileged a spoiled I really am. While Julia and I exchanged stories of our families, the boys played futbol outside and munched on applies.Her family, at least the younger children, refer to her as "gringa", and often forget her name. She, like me, had problems in knowing what her role is at the house. Unlike me, she wasn't able to help the mother around the house, and instead, resigned herself to being the babysitter, a role she enjoys, although she was mostly bored, like myself.

Vismar and I headed back to the house. No one was there and Vismar left too. to where? I had no idea. But I found Lizbeth in the back, harvesting potatoes, so she got me a harvesting thingies and we did it together. I had never farmed before, unless you count my family's square foot chili pepper garden. Harvesting papas was quite the experience for me. I really enjoyed it because I finally felt like I was being helpful. I was actually disappointed when they called me inside. I then helped them peel papas with the mather. The mom peeled about 4-5 papas for every one of mine. Even the 8 yr old came in for a bit a peeled more papas than I had total, and then left to play with her siblings. I was grateful that they didn't laugh at me too much.

During dinner, Yaneth grabbed my arm and said, "Mira! Papa esta borracho!" (Look! Dad is drunk!). OF course, I did not follow her to gawk at her drunk dad, and continued to eat my soup as if nothing had happened. It certainly was a strange atmosphere. All the children were whispering to one another and giggling. They then gathered in the kitchen, quiet and still. I couldn't tell if they were scared or amused or both. I just hoped he wasn't a violent drunk. In the end, he stumbled around the yard a bit, sang a little diddy, and passed out for the night.

The next day, I was told that I would accompany the kids to school and was excited to do so. Better than just sitting around the house, for sure. But as it turned out, I was to stay at home with the 3 youngest kids (not including the baby) and the father. The mom had gone with Lisette to drop her off at the high school in the next town. So I was left at home, the reluctant babysitter, once again.

Yaneth drove me absolutely CRAZY. Everytime I tried to write in my hournal, she would ask to draw in it. I would give it to her, delighted, but then she would scribble a bit, and give it back, saying she was tired. This cycle happened several times. Then, she told me that her mother had told her to cook. Being that she was a tiny 8 yr old, I didn't believe her, and tired to distract her from cooking. She insisted upon cooking, and in the end, I let her do whatever she wanted, and just tried to make sure she didn't hurt herself in the process.

This is one competent little girl. Before I knew it, she had boiled a pot of potatoes and friend 5 eggs. I just couldn't believe it! Considering I still barely know how to make a pb and j sandwich at the age of 21, this little girl really took me aback. She called her father out from the field where he was harvesting papas and brought him a plate of them. Crazy, no?

I was so nervous the whole time, that I would get in trouble for letting Yaneth do whatever she wanted to in the kitchen, but her father silently took the plate from Yaneth and ate quietly in the corner. It was very strange...although now that I think about it, I bet my father would've been delighted if I had made a meal for him at age 8. A good housewife in the making.

After playing with the kids a bit more and slipping the ducks my extra food (I couldn't eat that many potatoes! I felt like I was turning into a potato), I helped the father harvest more papas. It's back breaking work, but it was so satisfying to catch a glimpse of red potato skin amongst the mountain of pure black soil.

I felt very uncomfortable when Yaneth asked me if I had brought more toys. In all honesty, I believe I brought more than other on this program, but I wished I had brought more. In addition to the customary fruit and bread, I had brought nuts, raisins, a harmonica, playing cards, and temporary tatooes. But nothing I could've brought would've seemed enough.