Cop Hats

Cops amuse me. They’re cool guys with cool toys who save the world, fight evil, enforce justice, and have BA code names such as “Hubby Cop.” (Love you, Mrs. J! :-)

Through my several varied experiences with these valiant folk, I think I really like policemen. “Policemen” does not include a certain policewoman in D.C., but that’s another story. So yeah, I like cops…

…though maybe not their green sombreros. ("The weird hats strike again!")

You know cultures in which hats are a status/tribal symbol? I can SO understand that! Because hats are great, and you can tell a lot about a person by their type of hat, and how they wear it. I am very keen at reading someone by their hat. For example, if I see someone with a cap that says, “Dallas Cowboys” I INSTANTLY know they’re probably a Cowboys fan. Yup; I’m that good. :)

Anyway, we all have our ideas about the stereotypical wearers of flat bills, uber-curled bills, berets, bowler hats, cowboy hats… people who wear hats indoors, guys who wear hats crooked, etc.. I’d wager that most are posers. Wannabees.

Not like there’s anything wrong with being a poser… or is there? (*cue audience participation*)

But anyway, hats are an easy, removable way to say, “Hey look! I am this type! I fit this mold, see?”

The topic of identity is rather vast... and perhaps way too over-emphasized in our culture. There are so many options of what we can "be." Or at least what we can "look to be." Ya know? Everyone wants to be something. Something real, like other people. Yet different. Ha.

This is a big deal for teenagers... what do you older people think? My heart goes out to teens who are reeling from the propositions of many types of personalities and subcultures, all so mysterious and appealing, seemingly campaigning for their vote in life.

To me, this is a problem. People shouldn't be so distracted with simply finding a mold to plug themselves into. Yet such a tendency to belong and actually be something exists within the human heart. What do we do with such a tendency? What should we be? How can kids be established, without wasting the best years of our lives figuring it out?

I don't have the answers sorted out to all those questions yet, just wanted to throw those thoughts out there.

Oh and one more thought… so what do army-green sombreros worn low on the forehead mean??? ;-)

The Issue at Hand...

...or foot, rather.

Guess who took her first dance class today? And guess who found out she definitely has 2 left feet?!? :-D (And here I've been wondering why I don't wear flip-flops... I just need flip-flips! :)

So.

Today was good. In general. Ha.

It was one of those scurrying-around-panicking-cause-you-can't-find-your-employee-ID-card, almost-late-for-work mornings...

...followed by a scurrying-around-without-a-break day on the job...

...followed by scurrying-home-and-back-and-rushing-around-unable-to-find-a-building-in-Fairfax...

...followed by a dance class. This involved many odd dance partners (ha... what demographic would you expect at a community-center-ish beginner's swing dance class???)... and a certain old man dance partner named "Mo" who, among other wizened bits of criticisms, told me, "You're HOPPING... STOP hopping." I bit my lip and refrained from telling him he was SHUFFLING, and the remaining part of the class was only mildly exasperating.

It was one of those days, when, even in the midst of so much "scurrying" I couldn't help but put it in perspective... with the beauty all around me, the people I love, the God who loves me, the fickle unimportance of so many things we get frazzled over... And after all the scurrying, everything turned out just fine. No - just WONDERFUL. Got a new ID card no problem, being late for the class, big deal...

...and, at the end of it all, I got to drive home under a mystical full moon, towards a flaming sunset, dotted with little silhouettes of planes gliding through the epic streaks of pink... listening to emotional music... and peacefully contemplating various amazing things including, but not limited to, Star Wars and the nature of my car's headlights. But alas, that's for another post. 'Cause now I'm gonna go eat. (Oh, and to add to the brilliance of the day, my mom baked awesome cookies... not like I'm leaving ya'll for a cookie, or anything... :-D )

Oh, and if anyone out there has an extra size-7 RIGHT foot, I might be up for a swap. =)

My Day

Well, Good Afternoon!!!! Ya'll are looking good. It's such a pleasure to be here... *realizes she's not on stage...*

HOWDY FAITHFUL READERS!!!!

So, I'm back home! Springtime in Virginia is gorgeous. But who really wants to read about a bunch of stunning bright PINK trees, green-green-GREEN hills, birdsongs and frogsongs and BLUE sky? Psh... nope, you'll just have to come visit.

Today, I went shopping for my work uniform (because I start a waitressing job tomorrow). I am sure there are MANY ways to look like an idiot while shopping, but here are a few I discovered today (I'll chalk them all up to cultural acclamation :)

-- Tripping over yourself because the automatic door opened so slowly

-- Walking into a store and telling the clerk that you're looking for a shirt for yourself only to have her give you a disgusted look and tell you, "This store is plus sizes only."

-- Stopping in front of a door before realizing that it's NOT automatic (heheh... heh. :)

Then, I went to the gym. My high-altitude blood apparently doesn't understand that it is supposed to be SUPER-CHARGED. Or maybe I should blame it on the gym, whose TVs were showing nothing but baseball, a courtroom reality show, and a CNN special on taxes... SERIOUSLY? Is that get-yourself-pumped-up work-out material or WHAT??? :)

Ah good times. Love to everyone. Stay tuned! =)

Ciao-ciao!!!

Thanks to you...

^ A couple friends and me in the sulphur clouds of the Uyuni desert! ^

Angels are everywhere, ya know? They often come along just when you need them. This struck me the other day, as I was by an ATM, trying to figure out how to get my VISA card back after the ATM decided to eat it. A random lady just angelically appeared out of “nowhere” and asked if she could help me.

But she was just one of the many angels I know… namely all of YOU. This is a tribute to those who have continued to absolutely bless my socks off, even being 4000 km away for 5 months.

There are my parents who I’ve talked with almost every single day (and my mom sends me loving “prayer of the day” emails)… my brother who at least USED to talk with me, before he found lovelier company... :) My grandparents who got a Facebook account just to see my pictures… Those who send me messages of all sorts… those who have spent hours Skyping/IMing me, including “staying by my side” as I proceeded to lose my cookies on the floor, haha… Those who drop random notes to say they’re thinking of me or are counting down till I get home… and last but not least – anyone who has commented on my blog or pictures, for great is your reward in heaven =)

I don’t pretend that this was exactly a mission trip, and I have certainly learned way more than I have accomplished. Nevertheless, whatever I have done in the past 5 months – or my whole life, actually – I largely credit to my amazing peeps! Behind every person who goes are many more, just as important, supporting them and cheering them on. Ya’ll are the best. Thanks for being the most awesome friends I could imagine.

I'm coming home March 23!

Over and out.

Not a Drop of Sympathy!

So while escaping a pursuer armed with a bucket of water, I (in a full-out run carrying my purse, a notebook, and a bag of fruit) attract the attention of another group of teens armed with water balloons. More running and dodging.

Let’s just say I arrived home with a wet back and bruised fruit. J

Happy Carnival, everyone… NOT! J

*for the full long boring version of the story, click here

Miscellaneous...

We have a 2 year old now!!!!!! Everyone loves her!

Favorite Recent Moments:

--- (Background: The kids have an intense fascination with water. The garden hose, spray bottles, the sink, mud puddles… you name it. J The bathroom is a popular place to congregate and ultimately throw water all over the floor.)

So I’m cooking, and a kid comes trotting from the direction of the bathroom through the kitchen.

Me: What’d you just do?

Kid: Number 2!

Alriiiiighy…. J

--- Making pizza with the Holman kids (I absolutely LOVE that family!)

David: I don’t like the feel of flour

Me: Hmm… then you probably won’t be a baker when you grow up, huh?

One of the girls to me: Are YOU going to be a baker when you grow up?

Me: Yeah… when I grow up… I’ll probably be a baker.

And it’s true! I’ve loved baking and cooking for the kiddos down here. I probably shouldn’t evaluate my cooking based on the reactions of a bunch of 4-7 year olds, but they are generally complimentary.

Except this time:

Kid: “Tia, we don’t eat this in Bolivia. This is gross. Do they cook this in your country?”

Me: “No… we don’t eat this in my country either” (*laughing, ‘cause I wanted to say, “Honey, hate to break it to you, but this was today’s lunch that you didn’t like. But I did some tweaking to it and you don’t even recognize it…”*)

Kid: “Well, if it’s not eaten in Bolivia, and it’s not eaten in your country… then WHY DID YOU COOK IT????”

I think she’ll grow up to be a lawyer. J

--- Jiggling the 2-year-old to sleep in my arms in the dark, watching a sunset over the mountains, and silent lightning across the sky, feeling the strong breeze through the open window…

--- Seeing a cow in a taxi. Yes, a real live calf. (Since relatively few people down here have their own cars (or trailers!), one sees all sorts of things in public transportation!)

--- The personally-owned vehicles are none too boring either – the other day I saw a big old Nissan truck… with 2 old nuns driving/riding!

Take 2, They're Big!

Besides breakfast, lunch, and dinner, food is offered here upon one’s awaking, arriving, departing, and many times in between. “Yes please” and, “No thank you” are both somehow translated, “Yeah, give me food.”

The mom/cook/hostess always fills everyone’s plate. Portions are large.

Here's a few real quotes to give some perspective:

Host mom: “Eat! The sick who don’t eat die. I eat when I’m sick, and I haven’t died!”

Kid: “Tia, why do you exercise?”

Me: “Because I want to be strong.”

Kid: “But for that, all you need to do is eat.” (Silly, stupid Tia am I! And all this time I thought…)

Host mom (the moment my roommate walked in the door tonight): “Hola! Eat! Here’s fruit salad!”

Roommate: “Oh no thank you, I’m good for now.”

Host mom: “But you like fruit salad!"

Roommate: “Yeah… sometimes”

Host mom: “You like it. Why don’t you don’t want fruit salad???”

Roommate: “I like it for breakfast, but not now.”

Host mom: *shakes head in bewilderment, chuckles* “That girl, such is she. Eh, it’s ok, I’ll make her oatmeal!”

Who's this kid? (Or is it the cook...?)

If a Picture's Worth 1000 Words...

...then this post is worth 38,000, 'cause THERE'S A BUNCH OF NEW PICTURES ON FACEBOOK!!!!

Thanks for all of your picture requests!

Click the link to see the photo album:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=120825&id=657656924&l=95fb8339a0

Let the Good Times Roll!

Spiffy, huh!?!

"Oooh, a big vehicle with WHEELS!"

Yes, I do in fact spend massive amounts of time with 4-year-old boys. I can't help it. :)

Actually, this post is dedicated to Dad, whose photo request was for forms of transportation down here.

So, the colorful short busses are called "Micros." You pay when you get on.

The modified vans are called "Trufis." You pay when you get off.

The idea with both micros and trufis is to pack 1) as many people in as possible without anyone actually suffocating and 2) as many stickers, stuffed animals, and "Toyota" trinkets as you can fit on your dash!

To catch a micro or trufi, you stand by a curb and watch for one with the number or letter of the route you need. Usually their main destination is also listed. And look closely! There are micros with the same letter, but different routes! One has a little heart symbol by it, the other doesn't! When your number/letter/symbol comes, you just flag it down by holding out your hand. Then it and all of its many passengers come to an abrupt stop to let you on, and you go along your merry way.

When you want to get off the micro/trufi, you call out, "Corner please!" If you're too squished in the back for the driver to hear you, your request gets passed along telephone-game-style to the front until the driver stops. Then begins the fun of everyone shifting or getting off to let you down.

The public transportation routes were definitely designed by a woman. I'm pretty sure she was also either drunk, blond, or both. No offense. As a blond girl, I pretty much have the right to pick on my own species. :)

I usually take a taxi. Their condition varies greatly. Their common denominator is an awesome sound system and other spiffy little upgrades no matter how clunkerish the car is!

Oh, and bonus picture, here's a fruit car:

That's a megaphone on top, through which the driver announces his wares while driving slowly through neighborhoods.

"I Kissed A Bug...

... and I liked it!"

It wasn't exactly love at first sight...

But we warmed up to each other...

Or rather he thawed out a bit, since I did put him in the freezer before our little photo shoot... :D

In the end, my little cold, horny (no, those aren't oxymorons... :) anyway, my cold and horny friend obliged me for this picture:

AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION!!!!

YAY!!!!!!!!

Ok, this is all you, folks! Think of a something that you want to see a picture of from down here. Person, place, animal, plant, idea… anything! Preferably a bit odd, crazy, amusing… you know. (One of my best friends is in Africa and recently posted a picture of herself kissing a crocodile… I’m up for dares like that… though making no promises!)

Post your ideas as a comment. I’ll try to capture as many requests as possible with my camera!

Oh, and if you have questions or something you'd like me to write about, let me know, too!!!! My mom said that I should write more because she likes to hear about "even the little things." I tried to think of "little things" and all I could think of are the mosquitoes and ants ("very small rocks?"). Maybe ya'll could come up with more ideas?

Well, thanks, everyone, you’ve been a great audience! Till next time, I’m Caris Penzien!

(And next time I’ll STILL be Caris Penzien… why do they always say that???) J

P.S. My friend's blog: www.ghanagarbergirl.blogspot.com

"He who lives in a glass house...

...should not throw water balloons!"

Well, Carnival is coming up next month, and the annual Water Balloon Wars have commenced!

Fatalities so far are unknown, however many a battle wound has been inflicted, including to myself and the other girls I was with yesterday. Terror strikes man, woman, and child alike from cars passing by, rooftops, and windows. It was thought that at least indoors was safe… until last night…

We were seated inside a café next to floor-to-ceiling windows, enjoying watching the spirited water balloon fight which was occurring on the sidewalk just outside the window. The feuding parties hurled their ballistics with incredible velocity from one sidewalk to the other across the street, jumping around and using their half-on T-shirts as shields. Occasionally, a missile would splat against the glass of our café with a loud thud. Then, all of the sudden, with a startling thump and shatter, shards of the thick glass were flung into our clothes and faces. Thankfully, none got in our eyes, and we didn’t loose too much blood. J

Happy holidays, everyone! When ya'll coming to visit?