Finding Good Cultures (Part 1)

It has been nine months since our daughter M turned and walked toward the security checkpoint at our local airport in Omaha en route to a year of mission work in Bolivia. And as the distance grew between her and her lingering parents we each missed the other’s welling of tears and tugging of heart - or perhaps not.

Since that day we have clung to the hope of visiting her and witnessing first-hand the wonderful job being done at the Hogar Sagrado Corazón. Our plans began to materialize in October and came to pass in May. And so it is that Denise and I just returned from a trip to Bolivia and Peru with our only real agenda item being a rendezvous with M. And although this experience has proven to be an incredible and fulfilling “vacation”, it is safe to say that we are both quite content to be back at home.

Since our return I’ve struggled with an answer to the many friends and family who have begged the details of our trip and words that describe our rendezvous with M, our Madre hosts, the children of the Hogar, the people and places we experienced, and our travels in general. Despite its negative connotation, the best characterization that I have found is “arduous”. And yet somewhere within and around all the rigors of travel, the struggle with unknown language and culture, the absence of familiar convenience, the foreboding causality of poverty and abuse and the heart wrenching face of orphanhood, we saw hope.

Readying one’s self for travel to Bolivia is difficult. There is the VISA process (which is anything but intuitive) and the necessary immunizations for typhoid fever, yellow fever, multiple hepatitis A and B injections not to mention getting current on tetanus and several strains of influenza. We elected to pass on the rabies vaccinations and malaria medication and take our chances that we could somehow avoid any harmful animal and insect bites. But we secured medication to boost our "good intestinal bacteria" to protect us from the effects of internal parasites and to alleviate the onset of altitude sickness. In all this preparation was a six month process that concluded just before travel with a three week regimen of daily yogurt consumption as a belt and suspenders approach to building good cultures. That last bit may have been a trick by my wife to evoke in me a healthier attitude towards breakfast.

Also, we know very little Spanish. And by “very little” I really mean Denise knows none and I possess what little stuck in my brain from a two week stint of Spanish language in the fourth grade. Incidentally fourth grade Spanish was followed by a couple of weeks wasted on the metric system – neither of which ever lived up to their promised (threatened) usefulness until now.

Incidentally, M sent us a list of Spanish words that she thought would be good for us to know. I expected the usual uno, dos, tres, si, gracias, buenos dias, adios, como esta, maybe even ¿Dónde está el baño, and for certain más cerveza por favor. But, I forgot that we were staying at an orphanage. So, in addition to a few niceties, our Spanish study words for this vacation were as follows:

siETate - sit down (to one child)
paRAte - stand up
caca - poop
pipi - pee
TIEnes que HACer pipi? - do you have to go to the bathroom?
paNYal - diaper
MUco - snot
SALud! - Bless you!
DONde esTAS? - where are you?
cuiDAte - take care of yourself, be careful
ten cuiDADo - be careful
OYe - Hey! Listen!
baHAte - get down, climb down
LORo - parrot
no YORas - don't cry
BASTa! - Enough! Stop!

And packing was interesting. We packed quite light considering 10 days of travel that had to accommodate hot and cold days, hot and cold nights, sunshine and rain and lots of walking and playtime. Between the two of us, and in addition to the clothes that we wore, we brought one small carryon bag and two small book-bag size weatherproof backpacks. This included clothing, foot ware, jackets, toiletries, camera gear, travel information and confirmations, trusted (emergency) snack food, etc.

In addition to our meager necessities, we brought two full-size suitcases filled with things more difficult to explain to a Spanish speaking Customs agent. We had toothbrushes, toothpaste and floss for 135 girls. We brought art supplies such as construction paper, colored pencils and markers. We had an abundant supply of girls’ underwear in various sizes. We brought a gift for our hosts at the convent. We packed a few hard to find (in Bolivia) items for the volunteer’s kitchen shared by M and the other three Missionaries there. We packed a few additional clothing items, toiletries and craved snacks for M’s personal use. We brought a reconditioned old laptop computer (M’s from collage) to donate to the Hogar’s library. And we found a Spanish language keyboarding skills computer program for the older girls at the Hogar. I remember a feeling of relief as I passed surreptitiously through two thorough searches at the Bolivian Customs and Bolivian Drug Police checkpoints with my suitcase completely filled with snack foods, toothpaste, candy and little girls’ panties.

But in the end, all the cost, concern, annoyance and anxiety of our months of preparation was quite literally squeezed from our mind and body in the not so quiet embrace of daughter and parents at the arrivals gate in Viru Viru International Airport in Santa Cruz, Bolivia at 7:45 a.m. on Saturday, 7 May.