Moments...

• Last week as I was getting to leave Ren one morning, one of the women workers asked me if I wouldn´t mind accompanying one of the girls to a doctor´s appointment in the city. I said of course, but inwardly I sighed... I was REALLY hoping to have extra time that morning to go sit quietly in a plaza and read and pray, see, in order to fill my heart with love for the girls... and I wanted to have lots of energy to put into my full day of Spanish classes... so that I could better learn how to communicate... with the girls...

So I mean, it´s totally obvious why I´d be kind of annoyed at being asked to actually help and spend time with one of them...

And of course, as generally happens whenever I am preemptively annoyed about something, it turned out to be totally the highlight of my week. (Note to self, don´t be such a jerk, kthanks).
I went on the bus with Gabriela and her 13-month-old. The women had just asked me to get her there on the bus and said I didn´t need to stay, but when we got there Gabi asked if I wanted to come in with her. A) Duh, and B) By then I was in a better mood and was really enjoying the chance to have one-on-one time with her (my general favorite way to connect with people, and a rarity in a situation where 7 girls live in one not-huge home and aren´t allowed to leave the house or yard without a chaperone...)
So we went in, the appointment took maybe fifteen minutes, and then we headed back to the street. At this point I was supposed to send her home, but instead I totally broke every Mosoj Yan rule about equal treatment, etc., etc., and was like, "So, want to get something to eat?!". She was like YEAH! So we bought this potato-sausage-sauce mixture that´s really popular here and fresh-squeezed orange juice from a street vendor and just stood on the corner holding the baby and talking. I LOVE QUALITY TIME!!! She´s probably the quietest of the girls, but she really opened up in that situation... on our way to the doctor´s we had run into a girl she had known before she came to Mosoj Yan, and I asked her about her friends and she told me about them and how she felt about her friendships now at the house, etc. It was just wonderful.
And ever since then she´s acted way more comfortable with me. It´s great. She´s still kind of shy when I come in but then she´ll look up and give me a big smile and she always comes to sit by me and cuddles up a bit when we all watch a movie or something. I love it.

• My host dad is completely set on me meeting and marrying a Bolivian man. Oh, how I would love to tell you that I am joking, but no. Last week a neighbor asked me how old I was and I started to say "Twenty on-" and he leaned over and interrupted, "Y, lista para casarse!!" ("And, READY FOR MARRIAGE!!")

My phone rang this morning and he goes, "Quien es?! Quien es??!! Tu CHICO?? Chico boliviano para casarte?" ("Who is it, who is it- your boyfriend?? A Bolivian boyfriend for you to marry??!"). (It was not my Bolivian boyfriend, in case you´re wondering. He only facebooks me... JUST KIDDING, I do not have a Bolivian boyfriend, I promise.)

He has also taken to introducing everyone to me by way of explaining what eligible bachelors they´re related to. As in:
"Oh, Emiliana, meet my cousin´s wife´s sister. She has a son, twenty-two years old, VERY handsome boy, speaks perfect English... well... speaks some English, but VERY handsome boy, would LOVE to get married..."
I am not exaggerating. That exact conversation actually happened (as well as several others following the same format). With the potential mother-in-law standing by nodding and beaming at me proudly. It was just fantastic.

• My host family is also causing me to completely break the Wheaton Community Covenant. And no, not the way you´d expect when studying abroad in a country with virtually no drinking age. We have been playing cards after dinner every night for hours and they are big fans of everyone putting in one Boliviano (about the equivalent of 15 cents) per game. Yes... that´s right... Emily Goldberg is GAMBLING. Don´t tell Dr. Litfin. I´ll claim it´s a cultural experience. Trust me, with my complete lack of ability at card playing, I´m not reaping any earthly rewards from it. I had to drop out the other night or I wouldn´t have had change to get to work in the morning.
  

• This one makes me so happy... My 13 year old host sister had an assignment for her English class to learn an American song. So every day after work and school for the last few weeks, we´ve sat on my bed and gone over and over all the words to Gotta Have You by the Weepies. I know, right, I so would. She has it down pat, I´m so proud. And the hilarious thing is that now the entire household has heard it so much (she sings it all. the time.) that the other siblings all know most of the words just by default. The other day my 15 year old way-too-cool host brother was peeling tomatoes and all of a sudden broke out in, "OH, sach a PRIMA DONNA, sor-ree fo myy-self, but green..." I was like, heck yes.

Thankfully, I have long ago proven I cannot get sick of that song, or else I would probably be a little nuts by now. (Unfortunately, I can´t say the same for my roommates, who had to hear it in the apartment all year long, or Matt and David, who had to listen to it for the better part of a week´s drive through Canada. I heard a rumor that it once came on when David was in a van with a bunch of RAs and he screamed and made them turn it off...)

(I have to just say, the fact that I have my host family singing the Weepies and my Spanish teacher reading Henri Nouwen, makes me feel that no matter how the next four months go, my time in Bolivia could not have been in vain. Now I just need everyone to be addicted to Caribou Coffee, praying from Celtic Daily Prayer, and crying over Grey´s Anatomy episodes... They already all kiss each other on the cheek, so I can´t claim credit for that one.)

• So a good amount of American music plays everywhere here, but it´s pretty hilarious what gets chosen. I´ve heard everything from the Fray to David Bowie. This week I was on a bus listening to the Grease soundtrack, of all things. And the other day everyone in my Trufi-taxi turned and stared at me because I started cracking up when I heard, "Her name was LO-la... she was a SHOW-girl!!". I mean, really? In Bolivia?

• And finally... I FOUND A CAFE I LIKE!!!!! This is huge for me. I know I´m ridiculous, but for whatever reason, coffee shops are generally just one of the easiest places for me to relax and connect with God in my daily life, and have been all through college. I don´t know why, they just are, and I had really been missing my Caribou and Starbucks hours here. It´s right on the corner of Cochabamba´s main plaza (which means it´s great for mountain-gazing and people-watching, too). In order to beat crazy traffic, I have to get into the city about an hour before I need to be at Spanish class anyway, so I´ve been going there to grab a quiet table by a window on the second floor, drink a vanilla latte, and read my Bible and journal. It´s lovely, and I can seriously feel a huge difference in my overall feeling of sanity. And my HNGR guilt for hanging out in a cafe is quenched by the fact that it´s dangerous to sit in a plaza that early in the AM anyway, plus I´ve almost only ever heard Spanish there so I still feel authentic.

Although one time a bunch of American tourists came in, and I was so bitter. I was like "YOU ARE RUINING MY ILLUSION OF BEING HARD CORE! LEAVE MY BOLIVIAN CAFE, PLEASE!!". I know, I´m so obnoxious. I like pretending that I´m not really a short-term gringa here like everyone else.

• Well, this post is already long, but writing about my cafe (love love) reminded me that I´ve been wanting to post this sweet prayer beautiful Heath wrote in the journal she made me for my time here (have I mentioned that my roommates rock?). She wrote above it that it reminded her of me and me "coffee house quiet times" :-), so it seems appropriate!

"Somehow, Jesus, I like praying with a cup of coffee in my hands. I guess the warmth of the cup settles me and speaks of the warmth of Your love. I hold the cup against my cheek and listen, hushed and still.
I blow on the coffee and drink. O Spirit of God, blow across my little life and let me drink in Your great life. Amen."
-from Richard Foster. Isn´t that awesome?


Well, on that note... love and miss you all!