Bolivian Dreams- Day 3- Children are good!

Today we visited BO571- Dios es Amor for sunday worship services.  While I was ecstatic to be able to worship with this congregation I was quite disappointed when it soon became clear that many of the children would not be attending as it was not a project day and that there was not much time built into the day for socializing with the children.  I know many of my friends wanted pictures of their sponsor kids or to have a gift hand-delivered and I was not able to do this.  I was however able to leave gifts for Reyna who was identified as the project director and Ruben was in attendance so I know that Dayana his daughter and a newly sponsored child should get her gift today too.
  Today's service was an exercise in endurance.  I love worship music as much as the next person, but the praise and worship team were going strong for at least 45 minutes before we as a sponsor group were asked to come to the front and sing a couple of songs for the congregation.  Thankfully Mike was prepared with his guitar and copies of lyrics for two songs in Spanish so we actually looked like we had prepared though it was very much sprung on us as a surprise.  The message was about how parents can love their children better but also about how having children is good, very, Very, VERY good and that all good followers of Christ should have children. Lots of children. Lots and LOTS of children.  Most of the Bolivian women were smiling and crying praise while I simply squirmed uncomfortably  in my seat.  Please Mr. Pastor Sir, have mercy.  I have only recently beat my biological clock into submission, do not give it a better arguement with which to torture me.  After hearing about all the many reasons God says we must have children (I think he got to at least six before I was able to focus on a little boy pinching his brother) it was finally time for the next phase.  Apparently this parish does not do "baptisms" but child dedications for Christ and we happened to come on one of the days in the year that this is done which was a treat.  After the entire congregation blessed the boys who accepted Christ as their savior that day it was time for Communion and those of use baptized "by water" were allowed to partake.  We all took bread and then little disposable cups of wine.  I know the cups were small, only about 2 ounces, but the wine was either very strong or I was very hungry by the time Communion came along because I actually felt a buzz afterwards which was disconcerting and reminds me why I never drink.  The Quechua women sang a beautiful song in their native language during Communion and we gave an offering.  Church was concluded and I thought we would just part ways, but the congregation made a receiving line we had to go through like you would at a wedding.  There was a complicated "secret handshake" involved and after bashing my nose into one guy's face and accidentally kissing and old Quechua woman on the lips I finally got the rhythm "shake, shake, kissy kissy, shake shake".  Two shakes of your right hand, then (while still holding on) pull the person toward you, air kiss with right cheeks, air kiss with left cheeks, then back up one step and shake twice again.  If you make a mistake and forget the second shakes do not be surprised if the old women grab you and yank you back making you repeat the process.  This was definately one of the times I felt a tutorial should have been given prior. 

  When we finally got out of church about 10 minutes later we were able to exchange only a few words with the teen girls up front before having to get back in our bus.  They all wanted to know if we knew their sponsors and unfortunately I did not.  I was sad to leave but since I was slightly drunk from Communion, was happy that we were going to eat.  We stopped at a restaurant called Bufalo which initially looked like a typical buffet, however the waiter soon came out with a huge piece of meat staked on a 2 foot long knife.  There was a veritable parade of different meats, some quite odd looking but when one resembling beef came along I nodded and waved that I would like a portion.  The waiter came over but then stopped at my plate, handing me tongs and then spinning the meat on a little wooden board.  For the second time today I found myself totally lost.  I finally figured out after much prompting from the waiter that I was expected to wait until a delicious looking side came into view and then point at it and he would cut off a slab so I could grab it with the tongs.  OK, got it.  It was extremely delicious and while I was trying not to be a glutton, red meat seemed to soothe my nerves and there was much to be had.  After lunch we stopped at the local market to buy souveniers, however the planner must not have taken into account that 95% of the stalls were closed on sundays.  Since most of our group tried to cram themselves in the TINY shop that was open and even peeking inside made me clautrophobic, I remained in the alley with most of the guys, playing with the two random local toddlers who had appeared.  They ran from person to person grabbing our legs and enjoyed the crackers that Mike gave them, however the littlest one managed to cram an entire Ritz in her mouth without chewing it and for one horrifying second she was choking.   I was screeching "finger sweep!" as I ran toward her and think I scared her so bad she coughed it up before I even got there.  She was fine and laughing a minute later but a woman soon came to collect her.  Raquel our guide said that the poor women from the Andes villiages come down to market with all the children of the villiage since having children around helps then to sell goods.  Looking at their filthy and torn clothes and ill-fitting shoes I found myself praying that a center would open near them. 

Me sitting on the wall overlooking the cliff, trying not to look petrified

  After we (blessedly) left the market early it was decided to take a drive to the state of Jesus high on the mountain overlooking Cochabamba.  The drive up is a bit scary as the road is 2-way, winding and narrow.  Our driver seemed decidedly unhappy when motorists passed us in the opposite direction and he had to move over and an unhappy driver made me quite nervous, especially with the lack of guard rails.  On the top we were able to take several great pictures. I was totally surprised to see a stray dog all the way up there, he must have been a tough little guy.  When it was time to leave a group of 5 of us (4 of whom are distance runners) decided to opt for walking down instead of braving the bus.  The 1,399 step sounded quite doable initially but after about 5 minutes of progressively steeper steps with no railing I suddenly remembered my fear of heights.  I also remembered that I don't do these things not only because heights scare me, but because I get vertigo due to them and after about the first 500 steps or so, I had to lift my eyes every couple of steps (while making sure not to actually look down) because the stairs actually seemed to be moving which was quite unnerving.  We all managed to make it and actually arrived before the bus but my quadricepts were literally trembling from the exertion and I ended up sore for 3 days afterward.  I was quite proud of myself for trying though.  Back at the hotel we enjoyed a lovely plate of spaghetti bolognese before heading to the rooftop terrace for sharing and worship music.  I'm not sure if it was the after-effects of climbing down the mountain or the fact that the terrace floor sloped oh so slightly toward the edge, but every time I got within 10 feet of the wall I felt like I was going to fall over.  I plan to conquer my fear of heights one day, but today heights definately kicked my butt!

Overlooking Cochabamba

Me and my roommate Kristy

View of the winding path we walked down taken from the bottom