Saturday, March 23, 2013

Bolivia or Bust!



Cochabamba, Bolivia

Hello all, and SO SORRY for not blogging this entire month! My time so far in Bolivia has absolutely flown by, and in combination with a terrible and most often non-existent internet connection, I have not been able to update.

But thank you so much for your love, patience, curiosity & support… and I hope my upcoming posts don’t disappoint!

So to give some backdrop: I am serving two months in the rural outskirts of Cochabamba, Bolivia, the third biggest city in the country.

The sights and sounds are similar to those described in my Ecuador posts, except that things tend to feel more…raw here. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America, whose bumpy roads and street-working children can attest to. But every concrete building, every tin roof and adobe pueblo is back dropped by this gorgeous, mountainous view, complete with an eternal mid-summer’s perfect day kind of weather.

 

I arrived late on a Tuesday last February, disheveled and sleep-deprived after 33 hours of car, bus, and plane travel. I was greeted by the friendly Neco and Rosemary, my volunteer guesthouse hosts for the next two months. I met my roomie Kristen, a fourth-year med student from Reno. I got the tour, the low-down on how to use the gas oven, and tips on keeping the shower water hot. (That’s right… hot showers!! Oh, the glory).

My Home Away from Home 
 Photo courtesy of my buddy, Cass. She likes to Instagram things. :)
 

As you can see, I am hardly roughing it here. The familiar bed-bugs and bath buckets of Ecuador feel a thousand light-years away as I learn a new transportation system, (trufees instead of buses), new foods, (Bolivia is known for its peaches and peanuts), and a whole new culture.

Peach Juice (Not to be confused with small brains)

 A Cholita in her traditional everyday dress at the market.


My first few days with Hospitals of Hope (the organization that I’m serving with while here), consisted mainly of shadowing the doctors and learning how to get around town. The guesthouse is located about 30 yards from the hospital, which is very nice. I assisted a couple EKGs with the cardio doc and sat in on a laparoscopic gall-bladder removal surgery. It was all very good and interesting, but I was starting to wonder how God was going to use me here. I prayed for opportunities to serve and to be His loving hands and feet in this place.

Well…be careful what you pray for because one morning Neco asked Kristen and I if we would be willing to help organize the storeroom. He explained that the hospital had a lot of donated equipment, but wasn’t really utilizing any of it due to lack of organization and inventory in Spanish. “Sure!” we said.

Well, check out this beast:

Yeah...


After several days of sweat, dust, and Google translator, we conquered the storeroom attic.

 
 
 Victory!
 
 
Later in the week, Neco and I were having a conversation over breakfast about culture differences when he mentioned that there are a lot of accidents here, (burns, trufee accidents, poisonings), but nobody knows how to respond to them. Moreover, nothing is changed to prevent them. Bolivians are quick to blame the child for drinking the caustic substance, rather than the fact that kerosene shouldn’t have been stored in a Coke-a-Cola bottle to begin with.

He asked if I would be willing to teach basic first-aid and prevention to patients waiting in the hospital lobby, and if Kristen would teach about nutrition. I was excited to serve in this way and quickly got to planning good topics when I realized: this would all have to be done in Spanish. …Weh-heh-ell, talk about a curveball! I had barely mastered conversational Spanish last month in Ecuador, let alone medical terminology. (How do you say cardiopulmonary resuscitation in Spanish, again??) I knew God intended to grow me as I stepped outside of my comfort zone and taught some thirty Bolivians how to do the Heimlich. Spanish and all.

"Cual tiene mas fiber, una manzana o brocoli?"

 Little did I know that this was just the beginning of God’s leading me far beyond my comfort’s borders…

…and straight into the pediatric burn unit of a downtown Bolivian hospital.


---to be continued---

 

Friday, March 1, 2013

EFC & Kadavan's Story

English Fellowship Church & Kadavan’s* Story

Once during my first week in Ecuador I was skyping with Jason.  He had been in Afghanistan for about a month and was starting to feel the effects of lacking fellowship/community with other believers.  It can get very lonely sometimes when you’re the only Christian in your workplace or your household, or both.

It got me thinking about my time in Ecuador.  I had only been there a week and was still feeling the euphoria of being in a new place and experiencing new adventures.  But like Jason, I knew it would only be a few weeks before I would start to miss the encouragement and growth and community that comes from meeting regularly with a body of Christ-followers.  So I started to pray for God to provide fellowship during my time in Ecuador.  I really didn’t know what that looked like, especially since I was living in a country where hardly anybody spoke English, but I knew that God would make a way to meet that need.

The following week, I arrived early to my Spanish lesson in Quito.  Sitting in the lounge was a kid listening to music in a language I didn’t recognize.  I introduced myself in Spanish, but he responded in fluent English.  Grateful for easy conversation, I asked what brought him to Ecuador, and he shared with me his incredible story.

Kaduvan was born and raised in northern Sri Lanka. For those of you who aren’t up to speed with Sri Lankan history, (I sure wasn’t): the country has been under civil war for ages. The Tamil, a minority group that occupies much of the northern country, and the Sri Lankan government have had differences in language, religion and political viewpoints for many years. After a series of events and changes in political leaders, the country broke out into civil war. Being the minority, the Tamil fought with unconventional methods that quickly earned them world-wide recognition as the fiercest terrorist organization in the world: the Tamil Tigers. To this day, they are the leaders in numbers of suicide bomb attacks. The government also fought back in horrific ways. Children accused of having Tiger fathers have been shot and killed. Tamil women are often brutally raped before being killed, and many of the dead bodies are stripped naked and laid in the streets as an example. Many Tigers claim that the Monastery bombing that claimed many innocent lives was staged by the government in attempt to gain global support.

Many families fled Sri Lanka during this holocaust. Neighboring countries put a cap on how many they could take.

Militaristically and politically, the war is “over,” but Northern Sri Lanka can still be a dangerous place to live if you’re Tamil, an ex-Tiger, and a Christian especially.

Kaduvan is all of those things.

When he was young, Kaduvan’s father left him and his family. He was a Tiger. He later died from a heart attack. His mother tried to kill herself by drinking poison, but ended up in a hospital where someone shared the Gospel with her. She gave her life to Christ and consequently taught her children about Jesus. Kaduvan always believed, but got involved as a Tiger like many other youths. He was taught to hate the government, hate Muslims, and to defend the Tamil at all costs. It wasn’t until he grew and matured in his faith that he realized this was wrong and withdrew his involvement as a Tiger, spending more time volunteering with the youth group in his church.

When the war made it very dangerous for Tamil to live in Sri Lanka, Kaduvan’s family fled the country. His mother was granted a visa in the Netherlands along with one of his older brothers. His sister lives in Swizterland with her husband. Another sister made it into England. But Kaduvan, with his Tiger history, can’t get a visa anywhere. With the financial help of his family, he has literally moved from country to country, staying until his tourist visa expires, then moving on to the next country. He has lived in Italy, Cyprus, Switzerland, Jerusalem… staying in hostels or with family or with churches. He hasn’t seen his sister in thirteen years, his mother in five. Once, at airport customs in the Caribbean, he was accused of being a terrorist trying to get into the U.S. illegally via Mexico. He explained that he had no desire to get into the U.S., that he wasn’t even Muslim, but they argued that he looked like a terrorist. For hours he argued with them until they finally sent him away at his own very costly expense.

Another time, in Cyprus, Kaduvan got caught staying past his visa. He was put in jail with his only other option to return to Sri Lanka. This was a dangerous alternative because once arriving in Sri Lankan airport, the officer need only recognize his passport name as Tamil, and he could get arrested or killed. He stayed in Cyprus jail for 59 days, sharing the Gospel with the visiting Chaplin, before deciding to leave. He begged God for a miracle, to protect him as he returned to Sri Lanka. At the airport, he said that his hand was shaking like mad as he handed over his passport at customs. He said that the officer read it, looked up at him for a long time, then let him through. Praise God! He was able to live and work quietly for eight months in Sri Lanka before learning that Ecuador didn’t require a visa for the first three months of living there. He made it to Ecuador, has been living with a host mother, and took a month’s worth of Spanish lessons at the same Spanish school I was.

And he invited me to church with him.


Being in a foreign country far from family, Kaduvan was in need of a friend, too. It is so awesome to see the way God answers prayers.


 

English Fellowship Church

So the messages of the church Kaduvan found are in English. Nearly the entire congregation is made up of missionaries from all over the world, but mostly North America. They have the sermons written up ahead of time in both English and Spanish, for any non-English speakers that want to follow along.

There are two services, each with about 100 persons. Kaduvan introduced me to the youth pastor (from Colorado) and his wife (who grew up all over South America with her missionary parents). It is so funny to meet a blond-haired, blue-eyed Ecuadorian who speaks both perfect English and perfect Spanish… but that’s what half the church is comprised of! I was so encouraged to meet family after family, young couples, couples with young children, families with older children, kids my age who go to college in the States, but are home in Ecuador for the holidays… all who had been called to Ecuador to share the Gospel. Their stories are amazing and their ministries so neat, ranging from doctors to teachers to pastors to radio broadcasters to pilots to free-meal and youth workers… All coming together every Sunday to worship God together. What an amazing place!
 


My first service was a couple weeks before Christmas, so we sang Christmas songs with a couple verses in Spanish.  (How awesome!)  The pastor, from Canada, is just awesome and speaks insightful truth in such a genuine and relatable way.  He told us about girl who had stayed in her seat after the first service just weeping.  When asked why she was crying, she explained that she was a student from South India studying here in Quito for six months, doing an internship.  She spoke little Spanish and had been looking for a church for the past couple months.  It was her first Sunday at EFC, and she was overwhelmed with joy and thankfulness that she had found an incredible place to worship God in with so many other believers.  Wow.  If only I walked into church every Sunday like that.  We totally take our abundant access to the Gospel for granted!

After the service, a of couple women around my age introduced themselves and invited us to lunch with them and their friends.  About six of us met up for burritos and swapped stories and experiences.  One was a 19 year-old girl from London who is here in Quito for nine months with the ministry Pan de Vida (Bread of Life).  I was blown away by her youth and her passionate heart to serve God and serve others, and I found it hilarious when she used words like “sick” to describe what God was doing in Ecuador.  I feel like most other 19 year-olds are more concerned about where their next party is than for the kid who shows up every week to eat a real meal.  Her name is Hailey, and you can pray for her, because I think she’s “sick.” :)
 
Another woman was actually from Ecuador, but had studied for four years in Southern California, so her English was great.  She has a heart to reach Muslims in unreached parts of the world and feels called to India, but met her soon-to-be husband just before leaving for missionary school.  She’s wondering how the two are going to work, but I encouraged her to trust God with both.  I shared how God had called me to marry Jason although it had appeared to conflict with my desire to be a medical missionary… but with faith and open hands, God worked it out better than I could have ever imagined!  

I spent Christmas Eve with my Ecuadorian family, but a family from English Fellowship Church also invited Kaduvan & I for a traditional U.S. dinner on Christmas Day.  What a blessing to spend Christmas with an English-speaking family in their cozy Ecuadorian home and eat turkey and cranberry sauce!



Also through English Fellowship Church I met a couple doctors who let me shadow them in the missionary hospital nearby, which is associated with the radio ministry HCJB Radio.  (For those of you that are familiar with the incredible story of Jim Elliot, Rachel Saint, and the other missionaries that gave their lives to reach the Waorani Indians of Ecuador, MAF (Mission Aviation Fellowship) is also associated and located nearby).


HCJB Radio came to Quito for its high altitude over 75 years ago to broadcast to countries in Europe that were denied access to the Gospel, something that was said to be impossible to do.  But not only did the transmissions reach those countries, but there were back waves that were sending clear broadcasts the opposite direction…to Japan! Many people called in from unexpected countries in response to the Gospel through this radio ministry.

  
Thank you EFC for the fellowship, encouragement, love, and community during my time in Quito.  God is doing amazing things in and through you guys, both in Ecuador and around the world!


 


*My dear friend actually goes by a different name, but I changed it here for security reasons.

La Mitad del Mundo

La Mitad del Mundo
The Middle of the World

Fun Fact #1: Ecuador is named after the Equator because it was where the Incans first discovered it, and where the French Jesuit explorers calculated it!

So of course we had to visit it. :)

I was fortunate enough to meet Kate, another volunteer from England who was staying with the same host family during my last few days in Quito.

Isn´t she cute? :)
 
Like a couple of touristas, we made a day trip to La Mitad del Mundo, or the “Middle of the World.”

Kate and my buddy Kaduvan

Erected at the site where French explorers calculated the equator to be is an impressive monument with the latitudinal coordinates.

 



 

Oh ya know, just crossing hemispheres.


Fun Fact #2:  With the invention of the Global Positioning System, or G.P.S., the actual equator was found to be about 600 meters north of where the monument is.  Turns out those 16th century Incans were right, after all!

The actual Equator.

A very accurate sundial.

Straddling the line is an outdoor museum explaining some of the phenomena involved with standing at Latitude 0°0’0”.

I didn’t get a chance to snap a picture, but on the Equator line you can balance an egg on its point!

In contrast with the egg-balancing act, apparently your sense of balance is thrown off by the pulls of the north and south magnetic poles…  Kaduvan was having a heck of a time walking straight…

 
Also bizarre: When you stand on the equator line, the equal pulls of the magnetic poles actually make you weigh less… 2.3 pounds to be exact! For this reason, you have less muscle strength on the line.  In these pictures, our tour guide is pulling on the resisting arms of the guys in our group, first about 3 meters from the line where the guys had no problem lifting her… and then on the line where she pulled their arms down with ease!

We also drained water from basins three meters on either side of the line...and they swirled in opposite directions!  Directly on the line the water doesn't swirl at all, but just drains straight down.

We also learned some interesting things about the Incans who occupied this space centuries ago:

The Incans are the ones who first introduced the llama to Ecuador, which is an important animal for its customs and way of life today.

The Incans were ferocious warriors. A common practice was for them to skin, boil, and stuff the heads of their enemies and wear them around their necks as necklaces. It was also customary to shrink the heads loved ones.
Above is real shrunken head of a 12 year-old boy.

It’s understood that if your head were to be shrunken today, it would be about the size of your fist.  Gauging by the size of my fist, I think I would make a nice necklace.

We learned that when an Incan man died, it was customary to bury his wife and children with him, that he might have their company in the afterlife.  They always buried them alive, although sometimes they would give them an herbal drink that caused them to fall asleep before burying them.
If the wife died first, then the man would find a new wife.

 
La Mitad del Mundo!