Just a weekend in Santa Cruz

Today we mark one week in Bolivia and the survival of our first crazy weekend. On Friday afternoon we went to visit a church that our domestic abuse project works with. This church has a young pastor my age who runs a pre-k and kindergarten and it just so happened that the next day was the graduation celebration for the 76 kindergartners. So the pastor invited us to come to the event. On our way back to the office Juan said that he did not want to go because he had some homework to do, but that we could borrow his car and drive there since this church is a long way from their house. What!? You have to understand that this is the biggest city in Bolivia and the most chaotic traffic I have ever seen. And he wants to loan us his car to drive all the way across town?

Saturday evening arrived. We left the house a little after 5pm since the invitation said 5:30 and we knew that really meant later. After successfully navigating dirt roads, a crowded Saturday market, crazy roundabouts, and a few close calls, we arrived at our destination close to 6:30. We thought we were being good Bolivians arriving 1 hour late, but apparently people in Santa Cruz are even more laid back than the rest of the country. They had barely even begun to set up! Well, we thought, at least we aren't the first ones here. We stood in the back near the gate listening to the music playing and watching everything and people arriving when the band playing finished their song and announced over the mic, "Would the North American missionaries please come up here and take a seat at the table for special guests." I guess we were fools for thinking we could fly under the radar anyways, but now our cover was totally blown.

To make a long story short, the ceremony ended up starting at almost 8pm and it took forever. We could not escape because we were helping hand out diplomas. And each of the 76 children took over a minute: first their name and the parents' names are announced. . . they walk down the red carpet. . . stop for the cameras. . . we hand them the diploma. . . more pictures. . . then climb on stage. . . next child's name is called. We left and since I am writing this today you know we survived the drive home in the dark.

Sunday we visited a small, newly formed church. Small means they had 20 seats. This was another church that we will be working with. It was a great time meeting the people and at first it felt so romantic having church under the palm trees and mango trees until the brutal heat just starts to punish you. Then last night we moved in to the spare room at the office. We bought a bed on Saturday and last night we got our first night on the over-stuffed mattress we bought. Kind of uncomfortable with your middle above your head and feet.

All this to say, it has all been worth it. Some of these things seem uncomfortable or inefficient or time-consuming, but they are how Bolivia works and this is how we get to know our neighbor, build relationships, and begin this new ministry and I would do it all over again, which I'm sure we will get the chance to do.