May 24, 2016

Another very eventful day. I woke up at 6:00 a.m. to have breakfast with the girls at 6:30 a.m.. Nobody told me that Bolivians also run on Caribbean time (very slow) and breakfast didn’t start till 6:50 a.m.. Breakfast consisted of a roll the size of my fist and some cold coffee. After breakfast, I proceed to the infermidad to get more work done with the paper. As soon as I started, a volunteer (Carina from Germany) asked me if I wanted to go to the market. I said sure because I needed to exchange my U.S. dollars to Bolivian currency. When we left the Hogar she hailed two motorcycles to take us to the market. I hopped on the back of the one with the helmet (figured he was the safer dude) and we took off. When I say "took off" I really mean it. We went 0-100 real quick. While we were weaving in and out of traffic I thought to myself, “So this is how I’m going to die”. Luckily, we made it to the market in one piece. When I got off the motorcycle and paid him 2 bolivars (which is less than 50 cents) I noticed I was being stared at… by everyone. My German companion told me not to worry, because these people are not used to seeing a 6’1” white male. Anyways, I walked around the market, exchanged my money, and went back to the Hogar. I then worked most of the day with the medical documents.

Around 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I was invited to play with the girls ages 4-6 in a large room with lots of toys. It was a time that I will never forget. When I entered the room, all of the 10 girls dropped what they were playing with and ran to me to give me a hug. I was swarmed. They were all talking a million words a second and it was very very adorable. As time rolled by, about 4 kept clinging to me. I would pick them up and set them back down after lifting them high up into the air. The part that made this very memorable to me was when the started calling me “Papa”. It was very heartbreaking. These girls never had a Dad, and furthermore, men in this country rarely spent time with children that aren’t their own. It’s horrible. The other situation that really affected me was when an older orphan came into the room and began talking to me. She pointed out a girl that was playing by herself and told me how her parents were murdered and that is why she is here. I can’t put into words what went through my mind as I watched the little 4-year-old play with a tattered Barbie doll. It is amazing what these girls go through. That room held some of my happiest, and saddest moments here in Bolivia.

In the evening, I was invited to a show (put on by the girls) for Mother’s day. After the festivities I had dinner with the Hogar’s staff (nuns, book-keepers, and landscaping men). Mother Superior tried to make me feel welcome by introducing me and asking me questions. The problem was that I got really nervous when 20 people were silently looking at me expecting a good answer. At least I made them laugh with my fruitless attempts to explain what I do for mother’s day and what kind of music I enjoy. At one point I said the words in Spanish “I don’t know, know in Spanish”. I felt like I wanted to just become one with my chair at that point. At least the meal was nice; chicken, rice, salad, and red wine. After the dinner I played a little volleyball with the girls and now I am in my bed! I will try to update my blog tomorrow and finish looking at the medical documents. This will finish the first part of my research. I must do a lot more still. I will then attempt to ask the head nun what she wants me to do for the next two and a half weeks! Thanks for keeping up with me everyone and I do really appreciate the emails! Chao! 

 The morning breakfast. Sorry for not showing the roll, it was eaten too fast.

 These are just two of the girls that took a liking to me and wouldn't let go of my shorts.

 Another picture of the girls. They may call me "flaco" (skinny) but I am determined to prove them wrong.

 I forgot about old George and Tom until they dug through my bookbag and found them. Looks like I have to take more pictures with them.

Funny story: The song that they are dancing to is called "Crocodrilo" or Crocodile in English. From what I could tell, the dance and the outfits were a little naughty for a Catholic orphanage. The dance was for mothers day so they did it in front of the women of the house. If you look closely, you can see mother superior smiling.