el camino bloqueado

Patriotism

2009-11-12T06:37:00.000-08:00

Students are always asking me bizarre questions. They think I'm a bit strange, so they expect an answer that will entertain them or at the least give them a good laugh. I could explain to them the idea of peaceful resolutions, and a roar of laughter would erupt. In fact I have, and it did. So when I was asked the day before Veterans day if I would celebrate those that chose to protect our country, I had a difficult response in front of me. My dad is a veteran. My grandpa was a veteran. My great grandpa was a veteran. My response took a minute or more, but it ended up being something along the lines of, "I will celebrate those people, yes, but possibly not the actions they performed or the country they served. That I will forever lament"

You see, I won't pledge my allegiance to this country, or any other country for that matter. I joined a Kingdom much larger, and that is the only place/people to whom I give my following. There would be no conceivable way to give my allegiance to two authorities, because those two authorities are bound to contradict. And when they do, I have two separate places I have pledged to serve, and ultimately I have to choose just one of them.

Too many people are trying their hardest to unify their patriotism and faith (their country with the Kingdom of God). An American flag inside a church ring a bell for anyone? The sweet part of God's Kingdom is that it runs through nationalities and across borders. I can have my allegiance to this Kingdom anywhere I travel, to any nationality and in any tongue. I won't have to wonder if the Leader is making the right or wrong decision in regards to His people. It allows me to truly serve and really PLEDGE MY ALLEGIANCE to a People.

In this Kingdom peace is the true action of courage. This Leader has told us that war and retaliation will cause more war and retaliation. This Leader has told us that we have no need to fear an attack on our people, because our people are protected by His blood. This Leader has told us that those who die in His name will create more people who die in his name. This Leader has told us that the courageous action is not what it appears. If our people, in this Kingdom, are killed we have the assurance that has allowed us to live without defenses and retaliations. To live with the Freedom that we can die, at anytime, and spend an eternity with the same Kingdom to whom we gave our allegiance.

So will I pick up Weapons, and possibly kill anyone that could someday belong to the greatest, most invisible Kingdom on earth? No, I will act in courage, going peacefully proclaiming a different way with the assurance of my Leader that if I die, I live. The cowardice that nations instinctively follow will not overwhelm me. Not in this Kingdom.

The McDonalds Employee

2009-02-04T10:27:00.000-08:00

Her movements, along with her facial expressions, conveyed her spirit well. There was no doubt really. She took the grassy green leaves and pulled them apart, as if examining someones scalps for unwanted ticks. She took the bucket of water besides her and with great deliberation poured the water across the string-like leaves, making sure the soil did not get too much or too little as the water trickled down to the roots. She picked up her bucket, and moved on to the next set of plants. As she continued the process throughout the room, her face never changed. It carried a gentle smile with eyes that were proud of her work.

I haven't seen anything so relaxing or peaceful in a long time. There is something very beautiful about a content person. If we could all make the tedious, mundane things we did look so easy and enjoyable, things would look very different here. The McDonalds employee has found something that many of us search our whole lives for.

Fluid Motion

2009-01-02T07:46:00.001-08:00

With another year, it's easy to see how fast life passes by. While we may mark time in numbers so we can better manage it, it's really just a fluid motion that is impossible to stop and hard to remember. Most memories seem to be lost or stolen by time itself. And for the rare few that are kept and imprinted on the mind, I am so grateful. Whether good or bad, memories serve as a remembrance that life will continue it's motion onward.

The number mark 2008 just helps us to trap those memories in a specific location. For me, it is a location that will be easily remembered my entire life. I experienced one day of complete joy with friends and family that marked the beginning of a new life with Callie. I met new lives that have no limit to potential when Ava and Lucas entered this world. At the same time I saw the exiting from this world when my Grandpa passed away. Then there are the smaller memories that slowly shape who we are and how we act. A honeymoon well spent, a weekend full of laughter, and a week in the hospital with a swollen pancreas. And how can I ever forget the election of Barack Obama to be the next president of the United States and the continued advancement of civil rights at that moment? What a sweet memory for humanity.

Some of those times are so strong and written so deeply in my mind they will feel like they happened "yesterday", 10 years from now. Heck, I feel like the Bears just won the super bowl, but that was 24 years ago now! Just the other night I was walking with Callie on Navy Pier and her spirit was captured in both her movement and beauty to form a memory in my mind that I am capable of carrying forever.

All I can really say is that I look forward to the upcoming moments. I look forward to seeing those glimpses of God's Kingdom displayed here on earth for people to enjoy. Those moments are so sweet they keep carrying us through the fluid motion of time.

A day in the sun always makes a beer in the hand that much better.

the blocked way

2008-11-10T17:00:00.000-08:00

I just wrote a blog, and then deleted it. Computers are nice in that way, you don't have to commit to anything you write. If when you're done, you decide the thought wasn't conveyed well or the thought just plain sucked, you delete it and it's done.

Below are the basics of what I just wrote and deleted. Beforehand, it was way too long and way too boring for a blog. Better for a book....maybe, if that book were to be a long incoherant rambling by a PE teacher...

War. Abortion. Child slavery. Human trafficking. Prostitution. ALL OF THOSE go against life and human rights, and therefore I hope someday we will see an end to all of them.

As someone who deeply loves Jesus, I have to consistently ask myself how I am going to be a part of his Kingdom on earth. After all, it's hard to imagine anything great if you've been a slave since childhood, no? How am I going to show a woman who just got pregnant, and doesn't want to be, just a piece of the Kingdom? Do I show her I care for her and her baby by going to the politicians and illegalizing abortion? Or do I show her I care by doing life with her on a daily basis, where she's at (which, ironically enough, is where I'm at)? Do I show I love my enemies in Afghanistan by sending our troops to war ("love your enemies and do good to those who persecute you" are pretty difficult words to manipulate)? And the questions go on and on and on and on.

These are the questions I ask myself living in a new city. We can't claim Christ and refuse to figure these things out! Charity is something, but to be honest it is kind of half-assed. Moving beyond that is the hard part, towards solidarity with the oppressed. As I read recently in a fairly good book,

"Charity wins awards and applause, but joining the poor gets you killed. People do not get crucified for charity. People are crucified for living out a love that disrupts the social order, that calls forth a new world. People are not crucified for helping poor people. People are crucified for joining them."

For some reason I always come back to these questions. I think it may be because I keep ignoring them and going on my way....which is creating this repetition in my life that just can't be shaken until I take them for real.

*if you've commented on past blogs, i have responded under the comments, not in this entry necessarily

Green Line Station Named Laramie

2008-10-26T07:33:00.000-07:00

Everyday I get up around 6, mess around for a while, and then head over to the "El" where I board a mini train and head to school. Always with a cup of coffee and a little twinge of anxiety, because I just don't know what is going to take place at school. I can plan and plan from my end (which definitely helps), but knowing students' reactions and attitudes is impossible from one day to the next. Anyways, as I'm on the El, the sights change quickly headed west on the green line. Art slowly disappears and the emergence of trash is alarming. There is one stop deep into the west side of Chicago, however, that has students art posted all over the station. Some of them look like they are drawn by grade schoolers, and others by teenagers. There is one that always grabs my attention, and not because of the picture, but because of what it says.

We Real Cool
We Left School
We Lurk Late
We Shoot Straight
We Sing Sin
We Thin Gin
We Jazz Tune
We Die Soon

This simple poem always leaves me thinking for a little while. Is it a gang member being proud of this pattern? Or is it someone realizing the unfortunate reality of their neighborhood? Either way it was written, I think that it is fairly profound. It all starts with a prideful mentality that step by step destroys a person's life. For most of my students, they live the first six lines of the poem, and have yet to figure out the last two, or the inevitable ending.

I refuse to believe that this is the way it is supposed to be. I have to believe it is the result of a failed system and the oppression that was created by it. Not everyone has the same opportunity. I have no reason to believe that if I (same DNA and everything) grew up in a family where my parents didn't care and where all I saw was hopelessness I would somehow develop a hard-working mentality filled with hope. Magically I would arise and overcome the need for friends in my community and have the knowledge to know the importance of education.

I doubt it. People come out of poor situations because someone else helped them in some way. Maybe with encouragement, maybe with finances, maybe with knowledge, and maybe, just maybe, by example.

People are not created to be lazy. Somewhere the drive was lost and the will was broken (many times in early childhood). The question is: What are we, as individuals, going to do to restore it? We all have our own strengths.

Flashback

2008-10-16T18:24:00.000-07:00

As elections come around, I can't help but to reminisce what it was like to talk about politics ALL the time for the short period I lived in Bolivia. Every bus driver, every taxi cab driver, every street vendor, every "Joe, I didn't register to vote, the Plumber" had an opinion on how to make progress and change for the people. It seemed, many times, to be people's only hope. The hope that one day there would be a policy change that thought about the people, the majority people. And in Bolivia's case, along with most of the rest of the world, the majority people are the poor people. The people that by their very nature are blessed by their curse, if you will.

Politics in the states are not the same at all. It's a two party system that forgets its place in the world and its impact on other peoples and nations, not to mention its own marginalized people. But for the first time since I've been a voter, I can say that I agree with a candidate on the most humane level. A candidate that is causing the marginalized and poor people of America to talk and think and most importantly, hope. Take a step back and think along with me for a second, let me take you through a Watson thought process and maybe I can find the nerve that is creating this nostalgia.

How beautiful would it be to rid ourselves of our desires and just be content? To think and really act for others, and not for our own agenda. It would mean we we are no longer striving for something better in our lives, but for the lives of those around us that actually need. I guess that begs the question for everyone to answer themselves: Who are the lives around you? Is it your neighbor? The people in your country? The country next door? Or how about the continent next door that you've only read about? Is it possible to say it's all of humanity? Because at this time in history, life can be seen more clearly on a global context. It is more noticeable than ever before. When our economy struggles, it causes others to struggle as well. We are competing for resources against other people, real people that experience thirst, hunger, pain, loneliness, etc. The unfortunately reality is that we are not a content culture or people, we desire more and more and more, and this desire causes others to have less because of the limited resources this world can produce. Our greed causes other's poverty. Our inability to live outside discomfort causes others to live in discomfort. Our discontent causes a competition that results in LESS for other people. You don't have to like it, but it is true to some extent whether you are willing to face the new global era or not. Our actions and richness oppress others in a worldly context. While we say that we would like to help other countries develop, do we really mean it if it means there will be less for us? That fuel costs, food prices, could increase and we would have to cut back on some of the luxuries?

Judging from how the religious sector of America has responded over the past few months, I would say we don't really mean it. We would rather them struggle as long as life remains easy on the home-front, as long as our costs remain low and our wages high.

So, when I hear a candidate talk about "spreading the wealth", it reminds me of a people that struggle from the bottom with the hope that a policy and a leader will remember them and give them a fighting chance. It's a call to the rich to give a little more of their hard earned money for the poor that didn't have a chance from the beginning. It's a call to be content with the basics. After all, are we not called to carry each others burdens? Spread the wealth, live with less, love with your content spirit, and maybe then we can finally be an example to all the nations and spread the news of a Savior that did not come for the rich, but FOR the broken, marginalized, sick, and poor people of this world (he also came as ONE of those people). We can fight it all we want, but in the end the truth and only the truth will remain.

I am no exception.

denver-reading-chicago

2008-07-17T17:47:00.000-07:00

that's my pathway, and my current journey.

denver, colorado tantalized me with her beauty, showing me my direction away from the competitive business world. i left the views in the west and headed a direction i would have never guessed: east.

i picked up my wife in reading, michigan.

and now i head to chicago. cubs, hot dogs, bears, pizza, beer, and woman. it is the exact opposite of what i ever expected, especially the newly bought condo. but it's right, and there is peace.

David Quijarro

2007-06-06T19:41:00.000-07:00

I have many pictures from my time in Bolivia, but unfortunately, they are on Callie's camera and I don't have that right now. My 8 days there went much faster than I thought they would. I should have expected this, of course, being I lived there for almost 2 years. Every day was jam packed with lunches, dinners, and visiting friends and people that I consider family. It was wonderfully refreshing to speak Spanish and visit the land I had come to love. I was expecting to visit Lake Titicaca, and show Callie Copacabana, but we unfortunately ran out of time.

A good portion of our time was spent with students that I taught at Highlands International School. There were 4 graduating students this year, the first graduating class in the school's history. Diego is most likely going to Arkansas. Dan is going to Taylor University. Alex is going to a college up in Vancouver, Canada. And Jose Antonio is going to a University in La Paz. That's a pretty successful first graduating class! Next year there will be closer to 20 graduating seniors!

Among all the joy there was at Highlands, I felt a heavy heart. Not only because I missed out on an entire year of these students lives that I've invested so much in, or because of the Mountaineering Club that I was able to start, but because of a dear friend, a very dear friend of mine.......David Quijarro.

David....is a man that I look up to. He is a man that impacted my life. I'm actually starting to cry as I write this. I don't know quite how to say this. He taught me much of the Spanish I know. He showed me the city. He took me to the hospital that FINALLY found out that I had Hepatitis. When the Hepatitis lingered for 4 months, he begged me to stay at the school. He said he would give me more time off, and that he would pay for it all HIMSELF. He cried when he found out that I had to leave to get better. I promised him that I would see him again. I guess I kept my promise this time....

David, pronounced Dah-veed (he's Bolivian), is a man of God. He cares more about Highlands International School than anyone else I've known. He has built classrooms, funded the construction, and overseen everything. Over this last summer, he had 4 new rooms built, one of them being a science lab with the big ole' lab tables! He came up with the vision of a 1.5 milion dollar facility. He found alternative options for the location of the school. He worked a lot of hours at the school. David loves God, and worked hard for this school which he believed would build up the future leaders of Bolivia. He worked hard, he worked hard, he worked SO hard at what he did.

I consider David another victim of a poor health care system. Without going into detail, he is now in a coma. He lies in a broken down hospital, the same hospital that I remember lying in myself. He breaths out of a hole in his neck, with tubes feeding him both food, water, and oxygen. A fever last week caused by bed sores almost killed him. Still he fights. He is under therapy as we speak. Familiar voices, familiar music, familiar anything is being placed by his ears in hope to wake him from his coma. As Callie and I talked to him over a couple of days, he would open his eyes and look at us, although I don't know if anything registered. I talked about the school, and it seemed as if he struggled, as his body would stiffen. Still....nothing. I almost couldn't bear the site of him laying there, if he could understand what we were saying. His pulse would go up when I talked of students, and eventually I found myself hoping that he couldn't understand what I was saying. If he could, how terrible would it be to just hear and not move or say or do anything?????? I hope his brain is saving him from that pain. What a trapped feeling that must be if he can understand....

Tonight, 4 days later, he still lays there on the same bed. A body, but not really. I've known a few people to die in Bolivia over the last couple years, but this is the hardest because it is not over, it is still in limbo, just kind of a life hanging around. I'm glad he worked as hard as he did, that he accomplished what he did. One day he was fine, and the next he was put in a bed. We should all work that hard, because we really don't know when our time is up. I hope his isn't, but if it is, HE DID WELL. He is one of my examples on this earth. And now I start to cry again...

Thank you, David. For showing me a little piece of how to live. For showing me a little piece of love. I can only do one thing, in a place so far way, and imagining where you are. I pray. Right now I pray for a miracle. I pray God will wake you up, that your incredible work is not quite done. I love you, as a family member.

David Quijarro.

The Plan- SATURDAY 5/26

2007-05-23T07:15:00.000-07:00

To anyone I know in Bolivia who reads my blog:

1. Post a comment with your telephone number. I am sorry to say that my memory has failed me and I know longer have them stored upstairs. Nor do I have a telephone that has them stored...

2. If you would like, which I think you should, meet me at the Sultan's in La Paz (on the ole' Prado) at 2 PM, May 26th. I would tell you when my flight gets in, but you know me, I like to be a little mysterious and just show up places... I'll be at Sultan's at 2, will you?

I will see you all very shortly. I am very excited for the seniors who are graduating, and Dan Saldi who is going to Taylor University in the fall!

Peaceful dreams above Hanging Lake

2007-04-26T04:50:00.000-07:00

Alright, if you still summon the energy to click on my blog link from people who write regularly on their blogs, you might enjoy (or not) this one. I make no efforts of promising that I will be any better at posting, because I post when I feel the need.

What's your first thought? Perhaps you're thinking "that's a pretty picture", or "where was that?", or maybe "i like those waterfalls and the color of that lake". OK, now look closely. Over the waterfall on the right, hanging in the trees, is an orange object.

And....this is my view from above. A nice, long, peaceful hike ended with me hanging in my hammock above a waterfall looking into the Glenwood Canyon. May the adventures and beauty continue....

BOLIVIA 2007

2007-03-08T04:42:00.000-08:00

My liver is healthy. My gall bladder looks good. As does my pancreas. There are no parasites. There don't SEEM to be any worms causing any damage. Basically, no health issues.....FINALLY. There's the update. Thanks for praying!

I guess the only other major news is: May 26- June 3- I'll be in El Alto/La Paz for the first Highlands International School graduation ceremony. To all my students: expect good times. maybe some water balloon launching from unknown secret places? maybe DURING graduation??? maybe a quick trip to the mountains? think about it....

I expect to hear from ALL of you students ASAP with stuff you want to do that week.

My company gave me a phone that is more like a tiny computer. Not sure how I'm feeling about life now....

Just so I get a post Up

2007-02-20T13:42:00.000-08:00

Few quick important facts on my life, and a fact that will interest students at Highlands. I will post more later, when I have the time.

1. I am now the Supervisor for my construction company. I drive, I do inspections, I do quality audits, you name it. I just don't do anything physical anymore.

2. Danielle Dayton is getting married May 4th! Anyone want to come in from Bolivia for the wedding?

3. Went to the doctor today. It seemed like they took all of my blood to run tests. Some tests will take up to 2 weeks, so I won't be able to tell you what's wrong with this fine body of mine until March 6th.

4. Mark Voss and I sit next to each other in the office at work. How strange is this world? do we actually get any work done? good question.

5. I weigh 175 lbs. according to the doc's scale. Pure muscle I tell you.

6. Brent and his girlfriend are getting married. They're going to use Quinoa as their ring-bearer........

7. My brother dislikes 24 because he just now realizes it's unrealistic. Really DAVE, it took you 6 seasons to figure that out???? maybe it's just good tv and you should relax and not analyze so much....

8. But he may be right, Gregory House is the BADDEST A@@ on television.....

I'm out, more to come later.

a picture says it all....

2007-02-05T06:14:00.000-08:00

a day after the super bowl, the water still hasn't receded.

Never Fear

2007-02-01T06:21:00.000-08:00

For some reason, many of you thought I was NOT going to post ANYTHING about the Bears being in the super bowl. For those many, I have only one thing to say: You of little faith, do you not remember me? When it comes to sports, I am the same yesterday, today, and forever (i hope i'm not blaspheming by saying that). I AM Chicago. I AM Illinois. I may live in Denver, Seattle, and La Paz, but I will only ever root for the teams from one city, one state. I will hate all others. It's how I was born, it's what I do. Below are 2 Examples:

1) I LOVE the Chicago Cubs. With loving the Chicago Cubs comes facts that I do not control, such as:

I HATE the White Sox, I HATE the Red Sox, I HATE the Yankees, and I HATE the Cardinals. And then, I hate the Tigers, Twins, Blue Jays, Orioles, Devil Rays, Indians, Royals, A's, Angels, Rangers, Mariners, Mets, Phillies, Braves, Marlins, Nationals, Astros, Reds, Brewers, Pirates, Padres, Giants, Diamondbacks, and Rockies.
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2) I LOVE the Chicago Bears. With loving the Chicago Bears, again, comes facts that I do not control, such as:

I HATE the Green Bay Packers, I HATE the Minnesota Vikings, I HATE the Detroit Lions, I HATE the Rams, I HATE the Colts, I HATE the Patriots, and I hate the 49'ers. And then, I hate a little less all of the other teams. And of course, if there were a team for what Scott calls "Chicago's Parking Lot", I would hate them too.
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With all of that said, my mom always told me that the word "hate" is too strong a word, and that I am never to use it. SO, for my mom, please change every word "hate" to "dislike".

The Bears will most likely win this Super Bowl. They are the under-dogs, I know, by every expert in the world. Although I am not sure why. They have the better run defense, they have the better pass defense, they have the better turnover percentage, and they have the better special teams. The Colts have the better offense. So who will win?

The Bears: 46
The Colts : 10

*same score as the '85 Super Bowl versus the New England Patriots

the slowing of adventures- seemingly

2007-01-03T09:21:00.000-08:00

I'm home, without work, once again today. For those of you who haven't heard, Denver got pounded with two blizzards in the same week! I was here for the first one, and my town got about 32 inches of snow! The second one came when I was spending a week back home in Chicago, and it brought about another 18 inches to my town! Add it up, and you've got about 50 inches of snow in less than a week. Take 50 inches of snow, add it to construction outside, and what you get is NO WORK!

So, with my free time I've been doing a fair amount of reading and reflecting. Yesterday as I sat in my room, looking at my walls with the Bolivian/Puerto Rican Flags, hand-crafted hammocks, posters of the Cordillera Real, Bolivian wall hangings, etc., it made me extremely happy. I've been to so many places, and more importantly, I have come to know so many people. I may not see them again, but they have changed me immensely. I got reminiscent thinking about all of the stories that I've heard, and all the experiences I've had. Hiking in the Sajama desert; sitting at the peak of a 20,000 foot mountain with 3 of my closest friends; taking 6 modes of transportation to get to a tiny airport in Peru; hiking Patagonia; walking the streets of poverty in El Alto with a saddened and heavy heart; biking the island of Puerto Rico; coaching basketball in Spain; visiting Dave in the dreary land of Lithuania; listening to the church members of El Alto tell their story over a dinner they most likely couldn't afford; teaching the most beautiful and tender hearted students in La Paz; trying not to become depressed in El Alto on the nights where the world seemed so lost to me; recovering from an illness that had me crippled physically and emotionally; laughing with friends and family and students; crying with the brokenhearted as I felt helpless; getting extremely lost on the Uma Pulka trail for a day and a half; and the list goes on.

Gratitude is all I have in my heart for having all of these experiences. Gratitude mostly for life. And now I have to try so hard to not become complacent in this home land, the United States. It's so difficult because this place is so comfortable. But now I'm making new stories, and new friends in the Denver area. I have to strive to learn more of the language I call Mexican. I have to strive to understand their culture. I have to approach it all with the heart that God has called us to approach people with, namely love. It seems almost impossible at times.
Quinoa and I have made up.

I feel like my life is getting less interesting sometimes, but I am probably wrong. On any given day, I end up operating 5 different types of machinery with effeciency (trucks, bobcats, work 4 wheelers, trenchers, cars), I end up talking mostly in Spanish, and I hear more stories of hardship from foreign citizens who can't get anything to go right in their life. Then I go hiking in the mountains with a husky, climbing the boulders in Boulder, shooting arrows at Brent in the forests of Frisco because he wanted the adrenalin rush, flying back home and spending vacation with my gentle hearted mom, and family, etc.

I realize my life becomes more fulfilled every day I live with God's purpose, and every day I get closer to his Kingdom. I can not wait most days. And luckily it is probably approaching must faster than I can imagine, for life is short and we are but a passing wind as Solomon so simply puts it in Ecclesiastes.

For those of you who still read my blog, remember the stories that we've been given. Tell them, share them, and above all remember them.

Recently

2006-12-05T15:26:00.000-08:00

Work has slowed way down. The snow from last Wednesday and Saturday has managed to stick around, and our company has to wait for it to disappear before we can do many of our jobs. So far this week, I have worked 4 total hours. It's supposed to get a bit warmer, so hopefully the work comes back....

My weekends continue to get more fun. Last weekend, I played paintball on Saturday for most of the day, while it was dumping snow. We had about 15 guys, so it turned out to be some great games. No big welts for me, but I got plenty of shots that did not feel so good. Then on Saturday night, a few of us got dressed up, and went down to Denver for a play. Of course, Sunday is reserved for NFL football and nothing else (besides church). The Bears offense....no Rex Grossman....makes me want to vomit. I have to make sure to watch him on an empty stomach, because every time he drops back to pass, my stomach drops, and my heart decends into where my stomach once was.

me, callie, brent, and jen taking the light rail on our way downtown to the Martini Ranch

Husky Mountain Liver Love

2006-11-28T10:04:00.000-08:00

I've had some good stories as of late. Some of when things go wrong in life, or seem to go wrong, and others of just what I've been doing. I thought I might share them with you.

1. I'm sure many of you remember a couple of years ago when I was bitten by one of our Bolivian pets. The little Bolivian squirrel monkey, Doce, did not like to be taken off of our shoulders. When he was, he would often bite our hands, drawing little bits of blood, thus making us get our Rabies vaccination down in the city. Well, I have been bitten by another animal from Bolivia. This time, a Husky. When we were in Bolivia, Brent bought a Husky named Quinoa and brought it back to the states. It is a friendly dog and well trained. Since living with Brent, I have spent quite a bit of time playing with Quinoa and hanging out with him when home. He most likely remembers me from when he was a puppy, because he was warm with me and listened to me the minute I saw him out in Denver. After work one day, I came home, let Quinoa inside, and took a shower. When I got out, I saw him at the foot of Brent's bed, so I went in to pet him. The moment I put out my hand, he growled and gripped my hand so hard with his jaw that I fell to the floor, as he twisted my arm. I yelled his name, and seconds later, he had released my hand, and sat there next to me as I assessed the damage. 3 puncture wounds on the palm of my hand that were literally squirting blood, and multiple minor punctures on the backside of my hand. At the moment, I thought my hand was broken because most of the pain was coming from the bones in my hand, not the punctures. I decided to first take care of the deep punctures, so I went into my room, got the super glue, and threw a little bit of that into the cut (after cleaning it out of course). Interestingly enough, Quinoa followed me the whole time with his tale down. Once the super glue had been applied, I laid down on my couch for a while and made some phone calls. Quinoa followed me into my room, and laid down right next to me on his back and covered his eyes with his paws.

Although it took a couple of days to get full mobility back into my hand, the punctures are still more than visible. I would take a picture of them now, but I do not have the chord to put my pictures from the camera to the computer. Lesson Learned: DO NOT TRY TO PET QUINOA WHILE HE IS AT THE FOOT OF BRENT'S BED. IT IS THE ONLY PLACE THAT HE IS TERRITORIAL, AND HE WILL DEFEND IT.

2. Last week, the week of Thanksgiving, I went out to Glendale Springs for 3 days. Our company had a job there, and they decided to send my crew, being I have the youngest crew and we are mostly without families. It was about a three hour drive into the mountains, and we stayed there over night on Monday and Tuesday. The crew I had was Antonio, Noe, and Geronimo. We had the task of putting about 55 blankets on slopes to stop the eriosion that was taking place. This involved grading the slopes, then trenching the upper end of the slope, seeding and raking the slopes (in hope that grass will grow there, using the roots to stop sliding), and then blanketing the slopes (a physical way of stopping erosion until grass grows. Each blanket is about 110 feet, and we had three days to put in all of them. Normally, 50 blankets in one day would not be that big of a deal, but the problem was the ground. At night, the ground in the mountains freeze. I'de say here in Glenwood it would freeze 4-5 inches every night. I had my crew get up at 6 the on Tuesday morning to start working (monday we didn't show up in Glenwood till 11), but it turned out to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Everything was frozen. There was no way to trench, and there was no way to rake the ground, let alone grade it. We attempted to trench and prepare as much as we could, but until 11 am (when the ground had almost thawed) it was really slow work. The only problem was, that the sun in the mountains falls behind the western slopes at about 4, and gets dark shortly thereafter. So we had to use the truck lights well into the night so that we could get the work done before the ground froze again. We got it all done by Wednesday afternoon, and then Noe hooked up the trailer wrong, and it came off before we left, and tore out the light cables to the trailer. We had to fix that, and then got home at about 9pm after a full 40 hours of work in 3 days. Lesson Learned: WORKING IN THE MOUNTAINS SUCKS.

3 For those of you who remember my Hepatitis A problem of last year, it has started to come back more frequently than I anticipated. I'm not sure why. My best guess is the amount of physical work that I sometimes have to do has something to do with it. Everytime I run, play basketball, football, or anything of the physically exerting nature, I seem to get sick with stomach nausea and pain the following day. I thought that all of this would be over by now, but it isn't, and it is quite frustrating. I'm not sure whether to get another job, or just wait all of this out. Who knew the liver was so important anyways????

I Wish I Had Pictures

2006-10-29T19:23:00.000-08:00

Today was a day that I never expected. I'm not sure how to even describe it because it came as such a shock. A good one I guess, I'm really not sure because I haven't had the time to really think about it. Maybe I'll figure it out as I write about it now...

Last night, Randy called me up and asked me if I wanted to attend his church this morning. Randy is a Youth for Christ missionary that I knew while in Bolivia, and he is back in Denver for a few week vacation before he heads back (many of you may recall the 180 bus trip I took with Randy over Christmas). Youth for Christ actually had about 5 short-timers work for them while I was there, and they are all from the Denver area and currently living here. I couldn't really hear Randy too well on the phone and all that he was saying (i understood he was going to share a little bit), but I got the name of the church and decided I would go visit it. Pretty typical behavior really, visit a bunch of churches when you first move to a place...

This morning I showed up maybe 15 minutes late to the service, and didn't have the time to find Randy and the other YFC missionaries so I just sat down somewhere in the middle. About 5 minutes later, I noticed 5 people up front with hooded sweatshirts and baseball caps under the pulled hoodies. My heart literally skipped a beat, and not because I was scared or anything like that. They looked exactly like how the shoe shiner guys dressed in La Paz. Spitting image. They even had the cloths that wrapped around their face, so that only their eyes could be seen. It took me back to Bolivia so quickly that I almost couldn't believe it. It was almost overwhelming. It made me want to be back in La Paz at that instant. Later they got up, and Randy shared about his ministry with the shoe shiners of La Paz. It was strange to probably be the only person in the congregation that knew exactly what he was talking about and who he was talking about and why he had chosen the things he was talking about. It made me miss a life that now feels so distant, yet at times like this morning so near. It made me think of a lot of my students. to name a few who might read this blog, dan, diego, matheo, jose manuel, juan manuel, pablo, berman, sarah, andy, horacio, iara, cecy, mia, oneide, alex, lucas, alex l., dulce, heber, juan felipe, jeremy, and the list goes on and on.

Everyone puts their time in this life at a different place, with different people. While todays images took me back to a different time, it reminded and challenged me to really live WITH the people that are around me. Not above them or on a different plane, but in the same place, with the same struggles and pains, and with the same dreams and hopes. It can really be done anywhere, even though days like today made me feel temporarily like my place is supposed to be in Bolivia.

There is a reason they were dressed as shoe shiners this morning, just as there is a reason as to why they shine shoes with these guys in the streets of La Paz. They did an excellent job of reminding me on a day I was not expecting to be reminded...

Undercover

2006-10-18T18:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday the first snow storm of the year came to Denver with about 3 or 4 inches. While last night I had the hope of a reprieve from work, today I showed up to the yard only to be sent off to a job site north of the city to work in the snow. It was cold to say the least, and in only a few hours it turned into a muddy mess that I had to put up with for the next 10 hours.

Although I hate my job, I've decided to stick with it for as long as I'm able. I guess I have a weird attraction to things that suck and the pain that it causes. I'm thinking that the attraction might be the desire to understand a life that I could never live because of the place and time I was born...

I'm an undercover police officer. Two of the guys I've been working with for the last few weeks (Jose and Ignacio) told me last week that when I started with the company, they were convinced I was undercover. Apparently I've been looking for drug dealers and mexicans without their green cards for the last 6 weeks. While I could try to convince them that I am not in fact undercover, I've decided to keep my identity a mystery, and just kind of shrug my shoulders when they talk about it. They told me today that they think they were wrong, because no pig would stay undercover at a job like this for so long. My name is no longer "guerro" when I work with Jose and Ignacio, but "Undercover". While they've tried to keep their distance from me, I've started to get to know their stories, and when the time is right, I will share more about these two interesting characters I have come to call "Paranoids".

Internet Access for me is back...

2006-10-02T18:20:00.000-07:00

I just moved into Brent's place yesterday, and I once again have internet which means I will be able to start posting again. I know most of you don't believe that I will actually follow through and post as often as I once did, but the truth is I still have stories, and you all are wrong once again.

After staying at Marky and Lindsey's for a couple of weeks, I moved in with two friends (Callie and Emily) for the last few weeks. It was a lot of fun, although the apartment was always clean, everything always smelled good, and they often cooked dinner at night.

WORK. That's basically all I do, and nothing in that regard has changed since the last time I posted. I still drive to work before the sun starts to show itself, and I still come home after the sun has set. I really do hate the hours. Tomorrow I have a meeting with one of the main guys in the office who is in charge of the field because I have some issues with the company already. My problem is this. Everyone is ALWAYS on us to get things done faster. That's all I hear all day. FASTER FASTER FASTER. APURATE APURATE APURATE. The problem is, after working for 10 hours, there is no such thing as faster, there is only a slow and mechanical death that the body takes on. I equate it to the Marathon distance: If I have run 20 miles very hard every weekday, there is a positive chance the last 6 miles will not be as fast every day. It's called physical exertion, and each person only has so much, especially if it's being done every single day. The old work phrase "you're not working fast enough" loses all meaning, because OF COURSE I'M NOT WORKING AS FAST! Anyways, that's what I'm going to talk to the office about tomorrow, cause I'm sick of hearing it.

hasta la victoria

Denver, Aqui Estoy

2006-09-02T12:09:00.000-07:00

I've been in Denver almost exactly a week now. I arrived safely last Saturday to the Meyers, after getting a speeding ticket in Iowa, and had only a day before work started. The company I'm working for is Down to Earth Compliances, and is mainly an erosion-control company that works with storm water. I wish I could say that I am fascinated by the methods in which we control erosion, but it's really not that interesting. There is a lot of digging, a lot of hard manual type activities, without a lot of machinery. I did get to use the 4-wheeler and bobcat a little this week, but otherwise it's just labor. AND A LOT of labor it is. Between Monday and Friday of this week, I put in about 65 hours of work (approximately 13 hours a day). I get up at 5:30 am, and get back between 6pm and 8pm. Then I go to bed, and repeat the process the next day. My spanish is improving daily, as I am the only white person at the company that doesn't work in the office. That's right, me and 30 Mexicans are out on the field doing the work. My name has officially been changed from Jon to whatever they want to call me.....usually something that I have no idea how to spell in Spanish so I'm just going to phinetically spell it in English----- "Where-o". It means white skinned person or something like that, kind of like Gringo. I, in return, have started calling them by whatever name I feel like too. For instance, my boss for the week (I'm going to be a crew leader starting this next week) was named Omar and he is a tiny little Mexican probably about 5 foot nothing. Therefore I call him "tiny dark skinned Mexican". Most of them don't speak much English at all, so I spend the day speaking Mexican and trying to teach them Spanish.

This weekend I'm going to try to learn the area a little bit better. I went with Mark last Sunday into the mountains and we climbed up St. Mary's glacier which is the southern most glacier in the states and pretty sad looking as I'm guessing there is only a couple years left of its existence. Brent and friends went into the mountains this weekend to do some hiking, but I needed a bit of rest so I stayed back. All of my soreness has disappeared, and the work should get easier now that my body has adjusted back to the hard manual labor that I once performed in Seattle (pipeline construction).

Until later.

over the road block, on the move

2006-08-20T10:53:00.000-07:00

The time for me has come, once again, to pack up the bags and get on the road.

The destination: Mountains (any will do)
The objective(s): Stay alive (almost always a primary objective). Not get Hepatitis B or C
The reason: I have an issue with staying in one place for too long
The result of leaving: More stories from the mountainsides

So this coming weekend, I leave for Denver, Colorado. I finish my job here in Chicago on Friday, and start my job in Denver on Monday. Some people might wonder why I always have to be going somewhere, and some might even venture to guess that I am running from something, maybe my own shadow. But I assure you, there is no running. I'm going at a slow jog. No, I'm going at a relaxed walk, with my sandals on (my broken sandals that I got for 1 sol at the beach of Mollendo in Peru). You see, I'm a person of experience and stories. I enjoy meeting new people, exploring new areas, and gaining insight from the perspectives of people that live in different places. I know the Chicago mind-set, and although I like it and have adopted it as my own, I want to know others and experience those.

Ok fine, that's all a bunch of crap. I'm going because the flatlands of the midwest are slowly killing my eyesight. In order to correct my vision, I need some up and down on the terrain so that my depth perception can be enhanced and my eyes live on.

I will definately miss some things about being in Chicago and working at Forming America. I will miss a few of the mexicans that I work closely with every day and the smile that they bring to my face when I see that they spell "Josh" as "Yaz" on their cell phone because that's how they pronounce it in the Mexican alphabet (very different than the Spanish alphabet). I will miss having Andre teach me "Mexican slang", and lie to me about the meaning, so that when I use the word every Mexican within hearing distance can't stop laughing. By the way, do not call a Mexican Bajiado (sp?). I'm still not quite sure of the exact meaning of that word, but Andre told me to tell Samuel that he was Bajiado, and Samuel got offended, and Andre laughed his guts out for the next hour, maybe longer. I will miss stopping by my mom's house whenever I feel like it. And I will especially miss pissing off my great sister who has let me use her basement for the past few months. Don't worry Christie, the OWNER of the REMOTE CONTROL will soon be gone. Just remember who's stronger. Mom always told you as a kid we boys would be bigger some day, and you would have to pay the consequences. Consider it paid...

So expect this blog to come back to life with pictures and thoughts, now that I am leaving this eye-killing place that I refer to as the "MidWest".

-Go Cubbies
-Go Bears
-Go Bulls
-BOOOOOOOOOO White Sox
-BOOOOOOOOOO Green Bay
-BOOO every other sporting team outside of Chicago
-Mixed emotions to Rockies and Broncos

Hell on Earth, Intolerance, Heaven on Earth

2006-08-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

The days have been brutal. Hot, sticky, humid, rainy, and freakin hot. You name it and Chicago has had it in the last few weeks. I've been running on the fumes from the heat of the day, half-heartedly hoping that it will break, and at times loving every degree and what it does to my soul. It's difficult to begin to describe the hell on earth that I've experienced, and the fact that I partially and secretly enjoyed it.

I have a friend who hates infestations beyond almost anything else. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday of last week I worked in East Dundee on moving almost 100,000 pounds of concrete forms back to West Chicago, each form weighing nearly 100 lbs. I was excited, hard work means more pay and time goes faster the more you do and the harder you work . The problem became the unbelievable amount of bees. Millions of bees had made there homes in the forms, and when we started moving forms, they got pissed. They were EVERYWHERE. Every minute of the 12 hour days were spent with 100 bees in my face, and a good 15 bees on my body, at the minimum. It was impossible to look 5 feet in front of you without seeing hundreds of bees, and millions in the background. This is not an exageration. I have bee stings everywhere, and it just became part of my day to get stung and try to ignore the bees in front of my eyes. I HATE BEES, and could not ignore them. Along with the 100 degree heat, it quickly became what I describe as Hell on Earth.

I've realized more and more lately that I am a very intolerant person. I cannot handle bad drivers, red lights, and workers who endanger me by not knowing how to best do something. I drive our trucks around, and have to deal with these drivers who just can't drive....and I get agitated. Then I get a red light and along comes more agitation and more of the realization that I am super intolerant to the basic everyday happenings. And then I come across the guy that can't use the bobcat forks to load my truck up. Just let me do it, so I can get back on the road, get angry at the red lights, and more agitated at the drivers that can't make the right move. That way I can get back to the yard quicker, drop off the load, pick up another load, and get back on the road . I want to do it quickly, as if the agitation will be less if it happens quicker. It's really a beautiful system in my head, except it doesn't work out on the practical side because I just end up spending more time on the road, and meet more people with the inability to load a truck. But I can't slow down because I'm intolerant. What a terrible attribute to have developed in the past few weeks.

Now I'm hanging out with my brother, Nickie, Mikey Krone, Hannah, and Kristen in Cincinnati, and I have tolerance again. Everything is relaxed, everything is fun, everything is just perfect. These are the times I enjoy, and people that I love. I got to see the Wende family from Bolivia yesterday up in Dayton, OH. We talked, and I played with the kids. Dasha sat on my lap and told me stories and secrets, while Ian and Michael tried to shoot me with their BB gun. Now I can't tell what are bee stings and what are the BB shots. They run together and now I smile as I look down at my legs and think of them. This is Heaven on Earth. People make this place beautiful, the very same people who I have the audacity to get angry at every day. Reality and the people that bring me to this clarity is my Heaven on Earth.

Wedding, and Denny's

2006-06-27T14:44:00.000-07:00

Dave and Nickie

I've actually had a lot to write about, it's just that I'm never near the internet to write about it. There's some good stories from Cincy, and then of course my bro's bachelor party, but those seem so long ago I probably won't do a good job of recalling the details. So I'll just tell the most recent. I'm calling it the "Wedding, and Denny's", because that's exactly what it is, Dave's wedding, and then a good Denny's story that could only happen to me. Of course I will spend most of the time on the Denny's story *make sure to read story below

Dave and Nickie's (whom I will from here on out call Big Nic) wedding was a blast for me. I can't remember a time when I've been more excited for a weekend. Big Nic is the girl for Dave, and Dave is the guy for her, so I was just happy for it all to finally happen. I came in on Friday morning, and Dave, my dad, me and little Mark went and tried on the tux's. Good thing we did, cause Dave had pants with a size 38 waist. After that, we had some time to kill, so Dave and I took a nap (I was actually quite sick, suffering from a Hep A relapse). When we woke up, it was go time. We had the rehearsal, and then the rehearsal dinner. At the rehearsal dinner everyone had a time to tell stories about Dave or Big Nic, but I bowed out saying I wanted to save my voice for the following day. It was hilarious to hear all the stories, and of course to finally get a good nickname for Nickie. At about 10, it was time for people to get going, so we all went up to our hotel rooms, leaving everyone behind. Of course all of the groomsmen wanted to party in our room cause we had a deck, but after a little bit of conversation Dave and I decided to get them out so that he could have a good night sleep. That's just what big bro's do I guess. We threw a couple back on the deck, had a couple of sticks, talked a bit, and then headed to bed. The wedding day was beautiful. I don't have any pictures of the ceremony yet, but soon enough I will post them. Little Mark did, however, yell out in the middle of their ceremony that his pants were hot, and then came up to the groomsmen and sat down at my feet and proceeded to talk. Nothing you can do about an energetic 5 year old at a wedding. The reception was fun, I gave the Best Man speech which seemed to go better than planned, and then Jenna gave the Maid of Honor speech which also seemed to go better than planned. We decorated their car by putting a tree on the top of it, and then of course plastered it with sexual content and writing. Good times, Good times.

*
Now for my typical "I almost got shot" story. I'm going to start off by saying, I think I almost got shot. You see after the wedding, some of us decided to go out for the night. Some of us being me, Krone, Carter, Jenna, Kristen, Hannah (sp?), Kasperson, Cornmen, etc. The wedding had ended by like 5:00, so we went back, got a hotel room, played some games, and then went dancing until about 3:00 in the morning. After the dancing, some of us decided we were hungry, so we went and stopped by the local Denny's. It was only Kristen, Carter, Hannah, Jenna, Krone, Kasperson, and myself at this point. We got a table, and Jenna and Kasperson decided they weren't hungry, so they headed back to the Red Roof Inn (one block away). Krone went outside for a smoke, so only four of us were left at the table. All of a sudden, two big African American men came up to our table, obviously high or drunk, and demanded that we give back their cellphone because they had left it at our table. I gently told them we didn't have it, and they basically told us Bullshit. I didn't know what to say after that, so I just kind of sat there looking up at these guys. Then they just started to scream, WHERE THE F@#$ IS IT, WHO THE F$#@ HAS IT? I KNOW ONE OF YOU CRACKER A@@ MOTHERF@#$$#@ HAS IT, SO JUST TELL US. NOW. Now you might think I'm exagerating, but I'm really not. This is how it went down. It was unbelieavable how loud they were yelling at us, one of them in particular. Denny's, by the way, is completely full, we even had to wait for a table. At this point, the whole restaraunt is completely still and quiet, listening to the action at our table. You would think after the above statements they had for us, they would quit. But oh no, it had just started. They screamed at us for a good 5 minutes, maybe longer. They even knew we were staying at the Red Roof Inn cause they saw "two white people" leave the restaraunt and go over there (Jenna and Kasperson). They were screaming their lungs out wanting to know what room we were in, because they just KNEW that someone had their cell phone. I sarcastically told them that didn't just have one room, but "A LOT" of rooms, so "they had their work cut out for them". They didn't appreciate that comment, and the swears just kept coming. I've never heard such racial slurs, or profanity, thrown out so frequently in a sentence. Then, Krone came back in from his smoke, and noticed the whole place quiet with some African American guys at our table screamin their heads off (or their lungs out, depending on how you want to look at it). Krone came over, and it even got worse. Now these guys were threatening to SHOOT us. At this point, I'm pretty sure the manager had already called the cops, but I saw a bunch of people at tables nearby pick up their cell phones to call cops. Two minutes later, the cops were there, and the guys got arrested for threatening to kill us. They asked us if we wanted to press charges, but we gracefully declined, hoping they would remain in jail until we left the following morning.

more to come, don't give up on this blog yet.

the ole' jack is back, y pensamientos de iglesia

2006-05-22T12:22:00.000-07:00

I got a job that starts tomorrow. After last summer I promised myself I wouldn't do this type of work again, but with the return of my health also comes the return of my brashness, although I'm sure some would rather call it my stubborness. I'm stubborn????? It just feels so good to be able to move again without any pain or tiredness that I want to use it at every opportunity. I've been working out every day, sometimes twice a day, and I feel strong enough to go back and pick up the ole' jack hammer and see how my body reacts. Maybe my back is finally up for the challenge, maybe not. I'm sure most of my students have a smile across their face right now reading that I will be using the gigantic hammer that I described to them in detail, vowing that I would never return to such a torturous mechanism. Well, I am....so wipe that smile off your faces.

One of the most shocking parts of being back in the states is church. Actually, overwhelming is probably a better word than shocking. This last Sunday as I sat there and listened to the music I realized how easy it was to say and sing the words without really understanding the words and without much of a thought as to what the words were saying. It was in English, and I could recite them without so much of a thought. I couldn't help but to wonder how much of the congregation felt the same way. Then came the sermon. I felt like a spectator on the outside looking in on some crazy folk, lined up in pews, comatosed, listening to a guys rambling. For some reason my mind could not stay focused, and just wandered aimlessly back to my churches in Bolivia, to how different it all was. The things people deal with are just so different across cultures, across continents, across ethnicities, etc. At least that's how I felt. The sermon was about Deciphering the Da Vinci Code, part one of four that will be dealt to the congregration over the next month. I assume that there is a need amongst the congregation to deal with the topic, to clear up some questions, and to logically hear responses to the claims (if the author had any) that the book suggests. But I couldn't stay focused as my mind wandered aimlessy. I would bet money on the fact that nobody from my Bolivian Church in El Alto will ever hear of the Da Vinci Code. Even if they did, would they give it more than a moment of their attention? I'm guessing not.

I'm not trying to insinuate that one church is doing something right and another is doing something wrong, or that I enjoy one style over the other, because I understand a little as to why both churches do it the way they do. I've just been struck over and over again on the complex differences that this world shares on worshipping the same God. It blows my mind, and often times saddens my heart, that while one church rejoices over the addition of a hundred bricks to their bathroom, another church rejoices over building a new, multi-million dollar complex. It all seems so different on the outside, doesn't it? One church deals with an adobe wall surrounding the church, mixing cement with their hands and hopefully receiving enough in their offering plates to feed the pastor and buy a few bricks. Another church deals with cleaning their carpets, finding more parking space, and hopefully breaking ground at the site of a new church location. It made me think, though, how different is it on the inside, at the level of the individual, at the level of the human condition, so to speak? Both congregations are worshipping God. One person says, "Te Adorare", and another says "I will worship you". One for the food, the other for a new car. One deals with pride, and so does the other. One tries to control his own life, while the other can't seem to surrender his whole being. Same thing.

While my mind wandered and began to seep in these thoughts, some peace came with it. I guess it still leaves a lot out there for me to think about. All I know is that the overwhelming church experience has only just started for me, the day I visited a church in El Alto that had to little, yet so much to be thankful for.

Chickenlypse- A story from Days at TU

2006-05-06T10:25:00.000-07:00

The world loved chicken: chicken and rice, chicken and mushroom sauce, chicken and . . . and anything! The world ate chickens faster than they could lay eggs. There was a depletion that grew into a famine until only two chickens remained. Those two escaped to Peru and lived out their lives safely under the Peruvio-Amerio-Non-Extradition Act.
It was a sunny afternoon in Greenville, Minnesota, and an out-of-work mad scientist named Pete Moss strolled into a local cafe. He took a seat on a stool at the end of the bar. "My good fellow, might I have a grilled chicken sandwich?"
"Ha," sneered the server, "did chickens have lips?"
"Well, no, but they could if they were genetically re-engineered. What are you getting at?"
"Man, we don't have any chicken!" He turned and mumbled, "Crazy fool, chickens could never have lips."
Pete could not help but be hurt at the statement he had heard the waiter mutter under his breath. The scientist had always considered himself an expert at charting the waters of the gene pool. "Anything is possible with science," he grumbled. "Now how about some fried chicken strips?"
"Look man, the chickens are gone! This selfish world ate them all man, without even blinking. It's the chicken apocalypse I tell you. Now, how about some tuna, man?"
The complex mind of the professor raced: "Hmmmmm, half tuna, half man, this would be an interesting experiment . . . . OH! lunch." He squeezed his lips tightly together and squinted, contemplating the question. Like a small child hanging precariously on a cliff stretching for his rescuer's hand, Pete stammered the words that represented his last glimpse of hope, "Chicken salad?"
His feeble attempt for deliverance was met only by a scowl from the cafe employee. Pete wandered home in disbelief. He had read the newspaper articles, but finally, reality struck. At home he poured out his heart with all its sorrows to his wife.
"Oh, honey, that's awful," she sympathized. "What if I fix you some frog legs, dear?"
"Hmmmmmmm, a deer with frog legs? Difficult, but I think I could do it if I . . ."
A half an hour later, his wife placed a plate of frog legs in front of him. He cautiously took a bite with uncertainty. "It . . . It tastes like chicken . . . but it's not!" and he broke down and cried.

These soul-searching events gave Pete a purpose. He must use his scientific expertise to bring back the forever lost, exotic creature, the chicken. His zealous experiments drove him late into the night, working on a seemingly impossible task. Tackling the challenge head-on, he decided not only to genetically re-create chickens, but to improve them as well. The new birds would be bigger, stronger, faster, taller, smarter, louder, prettier, and fly farther.
"He said I was crazy, but now, chickens will not only have lips, but also will talk!"
The scientist's attempts were numerous but eventually successful. After four months he had created the first test-tube chick. This single baby bird was all he needed to raise his new breed of asexual birds. He danced madly around his basement laboratory flailing his arms and singing, "I feel like chicken tonight. I feel like chicken tonight. Moo Hoo Ha Ha Ha."

(One year later)

Pete seemed to have complete control over his growing flock of mutant birds. One day while his battalion of chickens goose-stepped around the laboratory compound, a chicken fell out of formation and accosted him.
"You're no scientist."
"Why, I certainly am."
"Oh yeah, what is the derivative of a polynomial whose limit is the x-axis?"
Pete was impressed; he did not expect such a knowledgeable question from a chicken. Captivated by the problem, he considered the challenge an enjoyable and unexpected perk of his new creation.
Pete pondered the polynomial problem at the kitchen table. Meanwhile, the chickens escaped from their primitive cage of Lincoln Logs and terrorized the city of Greenville. Their plan of attack was simple. One bird would casually walk up to a citizen and ask a tough question. Not wanting to be out done by a chicken, the befuddled victim would soon be deep in thought. Then the wild horde of vicious fowl would drop down out of the sky, devour everything that moved, and leave nothing but a pile of bones. Soon the chickens had complete control of Greenville, and their population grew along with their taste for human flesh.
The Secret Service, FBI, Coast Guard, Air Force, Navy Seals, and KGB all tried to recapture the city but they were powerless. Bullets just bounced off the beasts. Pete realized now that Kevlar feathers were a bad idea. Soon the chicken invasion spread across the state. As their numbers grew, they massed together and struck entire towns. The sky would grow dark as the flock descended upon their prey. Victims never saw the predators because no light could penetrate the swarm.

(Fifty years later)

Joe dropped into a cafe for a quick lunch. "Let me have a burger."
"Wouldn't we all like one, buddy?" said the waiter sarcastically.
"I'd like a steak then."
"You would eat meat from a cow?"
"Of course not, I want a human steak."

"Look, there are no people; we ate them all. We kept stuffing our beaks until they were all gone. They're lost forever."
Joe, the bewildered chicken, flew out of the restaurant window. He had heard the people farms were having a tough summer, but he didn't know they were completely barren. Was there anything he could do? Could he bring back the humans?

My new Cell Phone Number- 630-453-7205

2006-04-20T09:34:00.000-07:00

Crazy Guy goes Nuts went confronted with Us

2006-04-18T09:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we went to the Boston Marathon to watch a friend of ours run it. The Marathon in itself has nothing to do with the rest of this posting. Afterwards we went to dinner at this Bar where you can get a 1/2 pound burger and fries for only $1.95. Again, this has nothing to do with the main point of this posting. After talking for a while, we decided to try and walk across town and catch a train that was leaving in 10 minutes. When we got to the train station, it had already left, which meant we had to wait for the next train which came in an hour and a half. The train station is underneath the Boston Garden (the basketball court where the Boston Celtics play), and the Celtics Game was starting at the exact time we showed up. Here's where the action took place.

None of us cared to go to the game (us being Weber, Scott, Drewman, Phil, Chaz, Jessica, Doug, a girl from El Salvador, and myself), so we sat down at a wall and began waiting for the next train. There were some people trying to sell their tickets near the place we were sitting, so Weber asked a fairly wealthy looking guy how much a ticket cost. He told Dave they were $15 seats, but he would give them to us for only $10. Weber came back to us and asked how much we would pay to see the Celtics play. After a bit of deliberation, Drew and I told Weber no more than $3. When Weber told the guy (whom I'm going to call "Boss" for the rest of this posting), he laughed at us and walked away. Drew, Chaz, Scott and I knew that there was no market this evening, and that Boss would eventually come back to us because no one wanted to see the Celtics play their last game of the season being they just missed the playoffs. I promised the group that we would get the tickets for $3 if we only waited, although none of really cared if we went to the game or got on the train and went home. Bargaining is something that most of us know how to do pretty well, having lived in all the places we've lived, so we continued to wait....

If you know me, you know that I'm fairly stubborn and a bit of a smart-ass at times. If you know any of my friends, you know that we tend to feed off of each other, and they are probably even better at getting people riled up than I am (Brent being the best I've ever known). About to come is a graphic description of the ensueing events. Please Note that Boss is a little insane, and most people have a good time with us when we do stuff like this. We never expected him to get so upset so quickly.

Boss kind of wandered over in our general direction. He then told us that we could have the tickets for only $5. Normally we would have just bought the tickets, but again, none of us wanted to see the game so we stuck to our original plan and just told the guy "No Thanks". He was getting a little angry in the face, so he asked us "Fine, how much do you want them for?". Chaz quickly chimed in and said, "We have $30. You give us 10 tickets, and we'll give you the $30". Boss lauged to himself and said "You want tickets to the Boston Celtics for $3 a piece? I would throw them in the trashcan before I sell them to you mother#@**#* for $3." At this point, we probably should have just gotten quiet, but Drewman came to the rescue with, "I once threw $30 in a trashcan too!". Boss responded with, "I'de tear them up first you F#@*#*, you're not getting these tickets", and then he walked out the door. We continued to sit along the wall talking amongst ourselves wondering WHAT IN THE WORLD just happened, we were only bargaining with the guy, not trying to get him upset!

We quite honestly didn't know what to do. We figured that it was all over, and that he wasn't going to come back. We made jokes like "If he comes back to tear up the tickets and throw them in the trashcan, we'll take out $30 and tear it up, then throw it in the trashcan." 10 minutes later, we saw Boss come back through the doors. Some other tall guy walked up to us and told us that he would sell us 10 tickets for $30, and we quickly knew that Boss had given him the tickets to sell to us because he couldn't find anyone else to buy. At this point we didn't want anything to do with the tickets. Chaz told the tall guy that we would only buy from the guy who had given him those tickets. Boss wasn't far behind the guy, so he heard Chaz say that, and he went ape. He came and took the tickets out of the tall guys hand, and preceeded to SCREAM at us at the top of his lungs. Stuff that I can not and will not repeat, but something to the affect of "Go bleep your mothers bleep".

Last I remember, he was walking out the door daring us to come outside and get the tickets for free. None of us really knew what to do, so we just stared at the ground in front of us waiting for him to leave.

End of Story.

Son of a..... Where's the instant Replay?

2006-04-04T12:38:00.000-07:00

Driving on Roosevelt, the speed limit is 35mph. I was going the speed limit, and I had my seat belt on. The light turned yellow at Lorraine, and I had no option but to go thru it, as there was a car close behind me. So I did. Next thing I know, the siren lights are on behind me, and a cop is pulling me over. Ok. He tells me I just ran a red light. I tell him it was yellow. He said he was gonna give me a ticket for running a red, end of discussion.

Funny thing is, the first thought that came to mind was "Well let's just look at the instant replay. I KNOW that the light was yellow, you can't run a red light on Roosevelt and Lorraine and not get hit by cross Traffic. The instant replay will show the light was hardcore in the middle of being yellow".

As soon as the thought entered my mind, I realized I wasn't playing on national television, and there was no instant replay. SON OF A ....... I've decided to take this as a good sign that I've been watching too many sports on ESPN. I'm gonna go outside and get some fresh air.

Putting it Off

2006-04-03T13:10:00.000-07:00

I have a bunch of emails to write, and I don't want to write them because I am lazy. I will wait, and talk meaningless sports talk.

So March Madness has lost its luster this year. Usually I am at least somewhat excited about the Championship Game, but this year I really couldn't care less. I really dislike Florida(and think they got gifts the whole way to the championship game), so usually I would just root for the other team and be kind of interested in the game. For instance, if Duke was in the championship game, I would automatically root for the other guys because I hate Duke, thus I would be interested in the game and even feel invested in the other team. But this year, the other team is UCLA, and let's be honest here, a UCLA game is boring to watch because they have no offense. This year, two mediocre teams made it to the championship game, and I am apathetic to the outcome, which is just strange for me in any type of sporting event.

So in the words of a poster

one more post

2006-03-31T21:08:00.000-08:00

This post is for two people: Matheo Gavilano and Scott Aronson

I've been watching a lot of tennis on ESPN2. I've gotten so into it that I actually can't wait until the next match. Yesterday there was a woman's tennis match on, and it was awesome (yes scott, not only tennis on TV, but WOMAN'S tennis). Best of 3 sets. Sharapova versus Golovin. Golovin was down one set, and down 5-1 in the second set. She saved 4 match points, and then proceeded to come back and win the set. Incredible. There were points where I had to stand up off the couch. She later rolled her ankle and tore two ligaments, but the match was unbelievable.

So now you know how low I've gone. I'm interested in Woman's tennis.

ESPN and ESPN2 and ESPN

2006-03-31T14:17:00.000-08:00

I've been reading a book that a friend told me about called "Open Veins of Latin America". It's a pretty heavy book that so far has done quite a bit of bashing on Capitalism and what it has done to Latin America (Matheo, you would love this book). Some of the stuff is really good, and some a little off base, but for the most part it gives a pretty accurate history. The rich and the powerful feed on the poor and powerless, it's the basic story of life for much of the world. I saw a demotivational poster for sale that said it quite well

in case you can't read it, it says "A company that will go to the ends of the earth for its people will find it can hire them for about 10% of the cost of Americans"

As for me, other than reading and sleeping, I've been watching a lot of ESPN. In the morning I wake up and watch SportsCenter on ESPN. After SportsCenter, I might watch it again, or I might change the channel to ESPN2. Either way, I watch more sports. After that I watch Pardon the Interruption on ESPN, and then flip back to ESPN2 to make sure I'm not missing anything. If I have any energy left after all that, I may or may not watch College Gameday on ESPN. Then I sleep. Then I eat. Then I check to see if my eyes are white yet, which they never are. But they are more white, which is always encouraging.

By the way, to all my students, the Final Four is a little whacky this year. I told you that usually 2 number "1" seeds make it to the Final Four, which is usually true....but not this year. I suggest getting together on Saturday and rooting for George Mason, the team that shouldn't be there. And the Illini got screwed, they should totally be in the final four, just in case you didn't know....

an email, nature, plazas, and chaotic thoughts

2006-03-16T13:55:00.000-08:00

I've been wanting to write for a while about some of the events of the last week and a half. Now I don't care to mention them at all. I got an email today that was titled "You are leaving the 21st". Before even opening it, my heart dropped. I didn't actually expect this to happen. The nightmare turned reality. Even when I wrote home and asked someone to find a flight, I thought it was just words and words don't have much power, right? Something would change and I would end up being alright, without any sickness, my liver perfectly healthy. Just a big scare, another lesson in trusting God.

The title of the email couldn't actually be right, so I opened it up. Crap. Crap. Crap. No Way. Tears flooded my eyes, but I'm way too tough to cry in the office so I held them back and tried to focus on the screen and on the words and I couldn't but I tried and tried and tried. I swore in my head, twice, three times, four times, five times, and then closed the window and left the office to the fresh air where nature could refresh me and revive me and beat me once again. God I love nature.

I left the school to go get my test results. Why do I have to carry them? Why can't the dumb lab send them to the doctor. Now I have two trips instead of one. Why am I so cranky? I got the results and opened them as soon as I got outside. Medical words in Spanish made it much more difficult, but I got the gist from looking at the Bilirrubina and other numbers. I'm still really sick, my liver isn't doing its job. I had time before the doctor got to see the numbers, so I walked over to a nearby plaza and sat down. God I love plazas.

My usually simple thoughts were no longer simple. I was sad. I was happy. I was relieved. I was grateful to my family, they care so much, way too much, they're too good to me. I was mad. I was excited. I was sad. So damn sad. I thought back to the Bolivian Dodgeball tournament I played in two weekends ago with my students, and how we made it to the championship game out of 13 schools, and I got sad. I thought about when I listened to an Aymara priest talk about the beliefs in the Campos, and I was thankful I got to hear it. I thought about the near raping under my Terraza the other night, and I was glad I was there at that moment in that exact place. I thought about the Mountaineering Club and their trip this weekend with the Shoe Shiner guys, and I got more sad. So damn sad. Am I being the biggest wimp by not going? I know I could go, I know I could make it down that trail. Why am I being a panzy? Then I thought about my students and how I'm leaving them and how I have to say goodbye TOMORROW because many of them will be gone on the Mountaineering Trip on Monday, and the sadness hit a new level, and the tears came. Oh man. Then I thought about how I'm gonna see my brother and sister and mom and dad and new sister and spend time with all of them, and I felt a bit better, a bit happier. Then I thought about all I had to do before I left. Why am I sitting here thinking and feeling and watching the little kids play soccer, when I have so much to do? oh yeah, I love plazas. I sat there for the next hour.

I then went to the doctor. Good news. Bad news. News. I am closer than I could have imagined to really screwing things up. Relief. There is still hope and I will still recover, if I can not be stupid. I have to be careful. I am sicker than I thought. No room for error. Por lo menos, un mes en la cama. I'm glad I have a plane ticket for Tuesday. I am sad.

Now I have to tell people. I have to find a way to say good-bye to my home, to my family. I may never come back. I'm confused and I wish it could be easier, but it can't. It never is. If it were easy it wouldn't be very meaningful. I'm glad it's not easy. I thank God this will not be easy. If it were easy I would have to think that maybe my time here was a waste. At least the hardness gives me hope that there was a purpose in me being here, that I served God and people with my heart. My heart that now feels so broken....

God I love life.

from writing book entry to blog entry

2006-03-03T03:38:00.000-08:00

As I walked home tonight, I had thought after thought after thought. Every now and then, I have moments of clarity and this was one of them. The lightning and thunder shook the ground where I walked, yet it had not yet begun to rain. The air chilled by the second, yet I felt warm. I looked up at the sky and bolt after bolt lit up the darkness that surrounded me, while the deep roar shook my soul and spoke. At one moment, I saw a brilliant, neonic, white, etch it's way jaggedly through the blackness. It did it so slowly that I can trace it in my mind. It stayed for so long that I thought time stopped. If only time had really stopped....if only i needn't be bound by past, present, and future. If only.

Pain can be so deep it can cripple us. Sorrow can be so sad it can kill us. I looked into the eyes of a young mother over the weekend, and saw what I frequently see in eyes: intense hurt. I didn't hear much of what she had to say, but I saw her saying it. Her eyes told the story for her, as they often do, and once again my heart ached and my head throbbed. Why can't it all stop, just for a short time? All of the oppression, all of the mourning, and all of the evil. This isn't how it's supposed to be. And it can be better, that I truly believe. Maybe I've become a litttle bit of an idealist without realizing it. When did I start to dream in such big proportions? Who's to blame, or who can I go out and thank? If only time had stopped when the lightning traced its path through the sky. If only.

Ecclesiastes 7:2-4 "It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning."

James 4:9 "Grieve, mourn, and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up."

Psalm 34:18 " The LORD is close tot he brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Before I finished my walk home, it began to rain. Typical. Soaking wet, I changed my clothes, and got myself relatively warm, only to be reminded once again of all those who would endure the cold, wet, night under a bridge somewhere. Worst of all, many without feeling loved and most without hope. I thought of yesterday, ash Wednesday, and began to really process the significance of Lent. I thought of Isaiah 58, which we just read at the Bakers the other night. It tells us that our fasting should lose the chains of injustice, set the oppressed free, break the yoke, share food with the hungry, provide shelter for the poor, clothe the naked, and not turn away from your own flesh and blood. This is the meaning of fasting, a meaning so deep I read the words again and again and again and still they refuse to seep into my innermost core. Fasting is meant to do all of that? Wow. I want that, that's what what my soul ultimately yearns for. To free the oppressed and in no way be the oppressor. To do that I have to be completely humble, with no power. Or in other words, be truly poor in spirit as Jesus was.

So in the spirit of Lent, truly think of the real meaning of "fasting". Go to the house of mourning, for God is near to the brokenhearted.

The rain has stopped.

Arequipa and Back

2006-02-28T14:48:00.000-08:00

Here are some picture of the weekend. I went to Arequipa over the weekend and got to celebrate two carnaval's, because I made it back in time for the La Paz carnaval on Tuesday. I will write of what happened over the weekend when I get the chance. Right now I have to plan for another day of teaching....

A picture of Monica and I in front of the fountain at the Plaza de Armas.

A Picture of us in front of the main Cathedral in the center of town (photo taken a completely different night)

Carnaval in La Paz. As soon as I got back from Arequipa, I got hit multiple times by water balloons. In fact, right now I sit at the computer soaking wet (i saw the truck coming full of teenagers, but I froze). That is one huge difference between La Paz and Arequipa. In La Paz, they mostly throw water balloons. In Arequipa, they mostly throw buckets of water, paint, and motor oil. I still don't understand the oil, but we were able to stay away from it the whole time. Back in La Paz, the costumes and dances continued all day. Very very interesting time.

Ok I will post in the next couple of days to tell everyone about the weekend. Hope all is well.

Ceja Stares

2006-02-16T13:10:00.000-08:00

Walking in El Alto, especially the Ceja (or eyebrow), almost always brings amusement. I swear, these people have never seen a blonde person in their life. Minutes ago, I passed a group of teenage looking guys, and one of them nudged his friends to look at me. They stared, and stared, and stared, and then laughed and laughed and laughed (really, this is a pretty daily routine walking through the Ceja). Then, they attempted to pelt me with about 10 water balloons (also pretty ordinary for Carnival season). None of the balloons hit me. I almost started to laugh, being they couldn't hit me from 15 feet away. Instead, I told them they should try using their feet next time. Then I laughed.

Carnaval 2006

so far, no hits on me. count may rise exponentially in this next week.

the time has come.....

2006-02-11T11:34:00.000-08:00

so why haven't i been posting??

1. I'm lazy
2. I don't have much to say
3. The times I'm near a computer, I'm tired

Right now, all three of the above apply. But I'm gonna suck it up, and try to write a little bit.

Times are starting to get exciting in South America. Carnaval is quickly approaching, which means that everyone under the age of 60 gets excited. Grown men find themselved chucking water balloons at helpless youngsters, while the youngsters devise over-ly complex plans to wet the elderly (which is everyone above the age of 30 for them). Women who think it is a childish thing to do suddenly begin filling water balloons out of revenge and protection, and gringos find themselves constantly running for cover, lest they get the brunt of everyones pent-up water-balloon-throwing energy.

Knowing that this is my last Carnaval for a few years (at least I think), I am saving up my energy for one day. I am saving up my balloons for one day. I am saving everything I have, for one glorious day of gringo revenge. I will wet the young and the old, the teething and the balding, and the male and the female.

You see, Wes and I have begun discussing plans. We have a catapult (sp?) in our mind, built on our Deck, and able to hit anyone within a square mile. In addition, I have the support of twelve 8th grade students (possibly less depending on the mood of the girls). And lets face it, 8th grade boys, and anyone willing to teach 8th grade boys, were made for this holiday.

This is the month where water is our friend, and childhood returns to everyone, the young and the old. It is the month of Carnaval....the greatest holiday ever created.....

---pics to come---

Much Better

2006-01-30T13:19:00.000-08:00

Thank you for all your prayers. Last week I was able to teach all 5 days without missing a thing. I feel much better and am regaining energy by the day. The jaundice has almost completely faded, and I feel almost normal. This weekend I plan on making it back into the Mountains to start planning for the next few trips with the students.

On Saturday I moved back up to El Alto (my life is easily moved from one place to another with only one bag). I'm living with a guy named Wes who works for Word Made Flesh.

Hasta Luego

here it is....

2006-01-24T12:36:00.000-08:00

here is a pic of my yellow eyes, now that the jaundice is fading. They were REALLY yellow last week, but I never got a picture of it.

Right now I'm on the recovery. I feel much better and finally have an appetite, so I have a lot of work to do in order to get the 30 pounds that I lost back.

I went back to school yesterday, and have been able to make it through both days without too much pain. Last week I tried to go to school and never made it longer than a couple of hours. Plus I don't think that the students were enjoying my looks very much. LJ, an eight grader, was talking to me and in the middle of her sentence said, "You know, it's kind of freakin me out to talk to you with your yellow skin and yellow eyes, so I'm gonna go", and she walked away. Other comments included, "Dude, Mr. Watson, you don't look so good." and "I can't tell the difference between your hair, skin, and eyes". The comments from the younger students were even funnier because they tend not to hold anything in.

Anyways, after 10 straight days of laying in a bed and resting, I'm back up and feeling much better. Everyone is telling me that I need to continue to rest, or I could get chronic Hepatitis, so I'm still taking it easy.

Sorry I wasn't able to post more last week, but I couldn't sit up to use the computer for more than a few minutes without getting tired. Thank you all for your prayers, I could have never recovered so fast without them.

Yellow Eyes, Yellow Skin means what.....

2006-01-15T16:14:00.000-08:00

well the word that comes to mind is Jaundice. You know, the pictures you always see in health books and science books, maybe occasionally in a National Geographic or a world news picture of sick people dying.

I am those pictures. I came down with something pretty ugly on Tuesday afternoon (I couldn't stand up straight, and my stomach was in excruciating pain), and ended up missing the rest of the week of School. After seeing 2 doctors and having 4 blood tests, 2 ultrasounds, 3 urine tests, a variety of people poking at my stomach, and seeing the white of my eyes turn yellow, it was decided that I needed an operation. Not the kind of operation where they cut you open, but the kind of operation where they stick a scope down your stomach, and then down your intestines until they find the main tube that feeds bile into your stomach from the pancreas, gall bladder, and liver. They then make a small incision to release a Gall Stone, and once again allow the flow of bile into the intestines, thus fixing the problem.

I personally didn't like this option, so on Friday I went to a 3 doctor for more tests. Actually our financial director at the school MADE me go. I was put in the hospital (if that's what you want to call it), and after a day was told that I had a very serious and advanced case of Hepatitus A. There was, and still is, very serious suspicion as to if this is the problem. Hep A does occasionally cause some abdominal pain, but with this case this is all I've had. They haven't completely ruled out Apendicitis, although I highly doubt this being the nature of how long I've had the pain. Tomorrow morning I will return for more tests.

Anyways, I am currently out of commission for a while, so maybe I can post more often. I still can't stand for more than a few minutes, my stomach is still in a lot of pain (although not as severe), and my eyes and skin are the yellowest they've been (which kind of freaks me out), but I think I'm on the road to recovery.

Stay in prayer over these next few days....

180 Hours Later, a little bit smarter.

2006-01-05T08:15:00.000-08:00

I made it to Patagonia, and it was amazing. The whole area. I hiked for 4 days in the "Torres del Paine", which has glaciers that would stop me for hours at a time. Glacier Grey will forever stick in my mind as the most impressive site that my eyes have ever seen in the outdoors. The lakes were the same color blue that I saw at the beatiful beaches of the Carribean. A blue that doesn't make any sense at all in the middle of the mountains. So was it worth it? 180 hours of bus time, just to catch a glimpse of God's beauty and be in a place where the sun doesn't set until 11 oclock pm and rise at 4:30am. Yes, and here are just three moments that stick out.

We met a guy in the city of Osorno, Christian, that went out of his way to help us. He spent his whole day, showing us the city, and then went into the municipal courts to talk to some friends about getting us a free campsite. He didn't even know us, but he served us in unimaginable ways. It was hard at times to just let someone serve you the way he did. Sometimes I just wished he would let us go on our own, but then I realized that that was most likely my pride of not wanting to be helped and served so much. Without people who are willing to be served, what is the point of people who are willing to serve?

At Greys glacier in the Torres del Paine, Randy and I had just hiked 11kms and we came across a Brazilian couple that we got to talking to while overlooking the most amazing glacier. After learning a little bit about each other, Randy asked them a question that opened up a hour long conversation where we just sat and listened: What do you think of Americans? I learned more about that guy, Roberto, in the next hour than I have ever learned about anyone in such a short time. I have yet to meet a Brazilian that I don't like, and I have yet to meet a Brazilian that doesn't hate America. This was so exception. The guy was awesome, and he just talked and talked, while his wife sat there a little embarassed at the things he was saying so openly. By the end of the conversation (which we had to stop because we had to hike the 11km back), it had come to the point that he has lost all faith in Humanity. He told Randy and I that he only trusted 4 people at this point in his life: himself, his wife, and Randy and I. The funny thing is that all he knew about us was that we lived in La Paz and cared about Latin America, and that we both play basketball. Other than that, we just sat and listened to him, which is what so many people need. Just to be listened to, to hear there thoughts and not necessarily hear anything back.

In Arica, only 8 hours from being back in La Paz, Randy and I got asked by a bunch of High School students to play in their Rugby game on the beach. I don't know what it was about being on the beach playing a game that I didn't know very much about that was so refreshing to my soul. Maybe it was nice to call yourself Estadounidense (from the States), and not have people look down on you and even invite you to do something with them. The fact is, most people don't like Americans down here. They hate Bush, and that is usually the first thing I hear about. Most Christians here won't even believe that a Christian COULD vote for Bush. It makes no sense to them. And as soon as you tell them where you're from, it ends any type of a conversation, especailly in Bolivia. There are exceptions of course. This was one of those exceptions, and it was really good for me and my soul. Also, it turns out Randy and I are pretty good at Rugby.

So yeah, I spent 180 hours on buses. But I learned more about the cultures down here in South America. I learned more about how people think in this world. And it made me question many things about the role of the culture in which we are raised. I plan on writing more about the Brazilian couple and what they said in a future blog, but right now I'm still processing.

What is the role of the most powerful nation in the world? Obvious answers to this question don't necessarily mean obvious responses.

----In case you haven't heard, Evo Moralis just won the presidency here in Bolivia. Nobody knows what that means for Bolivia right now, or in the long run. He is the leader of the Socialistic Movement in Bolivia, so only time can tell what is in store for Bolivia. He has a very strong anti-American sentiment, and is working more closely with Chavez of Venezuela and Castro of Cuba.

----Congratulations to my bro Dave on his engagement to Nickie. I wish I could be there with you to celebrate. I am already looking forward to the wedding. Send me pictures of the ring and whatever else when you get the chance.

----A very Happy Birthday to Monica Ghali.

When I get my pictures downloaded, I will post them on the site.

Update on Adventure

2005-12-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

The title might be a little misleading. I actually haven't had an adventure lately. I've been sitting in bus, or buses, for over 50 hours now. In our first 48 hours away from La Paz, we were on a bus for 45 of them.

I'm in Osorno. This is the first time I've ever heard of this city.

I have a ticket to Punta Arenas, the southern most city in the world. We have to take a bus into Argentina first, and then back into Chile to get there. We will then be hiking into Patagonia and the beautiful mountains and mountain lakes that are surrounding the area. I'm not sure how long we will stay, but it might be 4 or 5 days of just camping and enjoying the hikes and scenery.

Once we get there, it will not cost a thing. We have fishing poles, water filters, tents, and hammocks to live off the land for quite a while. Apparently the mountains just run straight into the Pacific Ocean all over the area. I am more than excited to see this amazing site. I probably won't be able to post again for a while, so I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to everyone, especially the family, whom I will be away from for my second Christmas (which is way too much).

Mom-Merry Christmas. I love and miss you. Christie- You're in my prayers all the time. I love you. Dave- Michigan for christmas huh? too bad it's not back to Bolivia, but i understand. Dad- Give Mark a hug for me and have a Merry Christmas with everyone.

Christmas Plans

2005-12-17T12:56:00.000-08:00

I am off to Chile for Christmas Break. The US Embassy gave me a temporary passport, and now the plan is to get as far south in Chile that we can (randy, caity, and I). I'm going to take cash, and when I get half way through it, I will turn around and come back. Randy and Caity have the morbid goal of finding a penguin and kicking it, while my goal is just to get to Patagonia.

I'm guessing this adventure will last about 2 weeks, which will leave me with one more week of freedom. I'm hoping to hike over half of the mountain range (the Cordillera Real) with this one extra week. We'll see.

Anyways, Merry Christmas to all. You are all in my prayers over this holliday season.

Updates on Life

2005-12-06T14:50:00.000-08:00

So an update is necessary on a few things:

I do not have my passport, and I will not have it for a while longer. I went to pick it up today at the Embassy, and they tell me "OH, we need an original of your Birth Certificate because, it turns out, we lost your registration with us and we now need an official document". I asked them why they didn't call me and tell me two weeks ago, only for them to say that they are busy. So now the goal is to get another original copy from a family member, and have them send it, and then wait the 12 days to process another passport. Does this mean that I probably can't travel over the Christmas Holiday, and that I will be in Bolivia during the chaotic elections? precisely.

The elections are coming up real quickly. It is going to be super interesting, and have a big effect on the country. There are good chances that things could go very badly here. to read an interesting article that Scott sent me, go to http://www.truthout.org/docs_2005/112005H.shtml

I'm currently planning some of the next trips with the students. One is going to be in January, another in February, and then I'm planning a 9 day hiking/climbing trip in March (during our spring break). So far most of it is just on paper, and I'm planning on getting out into the mountains for about 10 days over Christmas break to get to know the mountains a little bit better so we don't get lost on the long hike in March.... If any of my readers have ANY ideas on some financial funding for the upcoming trips, please let me know as soon as possible......I need to look into different options, as my salary is not enough to fund these trips....

Caught and Kicked Out

2005-11-29T13:13:00.000-08:00

After a weekend of getting caught trying to sneak across the border into Peru, I've decided a passport is necessary for South American travel.

I have a new telephone number, because I had to get a new telephone, because I got robbed of my other one. Some guy named Carlos got it. I called my telephone only to have him answer and hear him laugh at me.....

new number: 77-77-0786

and....

2005-11-20T17:38:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to my awesome Bro Dave. hope you spend it well. love you much,
Jon

Trapped in Bolivia

2005-11-20T09:38:00.000-08:00

During my VISA process this year, things have gone....well, very badly. All of the new teachers have already gotten their Visa's. As for me, not only have I not gotten my VISA, but the Bolivian Immigration office has lost my passport.....

what to do
what to do

guess I'm not traveling.

H2 Glacier Fear

2005-11-20T07:27:00.000-08:00

Friday, 15 students and 5 teachers got out of school at about 2:30 to leave for Huayna Potosi. We picked up all of the gear at the shop, and arrived at the Refugio in the early evening. Many of the students just relaxed when we got there, while some of us others took a short hike. The weather was very foggy, so we weren't able to see anything along the way, which is pretty typical in this part of the valley. We returned from the hike as it got dark, and had a short time for devotionals. The devotionals were a bit more organized this time, as I put together a small little book with the help of some friends, Scott, Caity, Kristen, Donna, and Jim. After dinner, I talked on the topic of Fear/Fearing God with the students, and it was interesting to have them answering questions and hearing their thoughts along the way. It was a good time to have all 20 of us together and share our thoughts. After this, the students had free time for the rest of the night until they wanted to go to bed. Most of us stayed up playing Mafia, which was hilarious with the personalities of some of these students.

Saturday morning we got up, had breakfast, and then started putting on our gear to go into the glaciers. After getting everything together, we started the hike up to the glaciers. As soon as we started, it began to snow and continued to snow the entire way up to the glaciers. It was really fun for most of us to hike in the snow, even though it was getting a lot of our things wet.

When we arrived at the glaciers, everyone put on their crampons. I could tell that the main guide, Hugo, was pretty nervous about having this many students on glaciers. Especially since it was the first time for everyone there except me. After everyone had their crampons ready, Hugo taught everyone some different techniques for just walking on the glaciers. Some of the students did an excellent job of catching on to the technique, while others could not understand how to really slam their foot into the ice for security. We spent probably an hour or more just walking up the ice/snow without the ice picks, to really get the hang of the crampons. Even though some of the students were still only "walking" with their crampons instead of digging them in, we finally picked up the ice picks and Hugo and another guide, Julio, began showing how to walk WITH the ice pick.

Watching this was also very interesting. These things are awkward the first time you do them, and I could see how much difficulty it was causing for some of the students. For others, it came more naturally. At this point, some of the students were really enjoying themselves, while others just wanted to go back down to the Refugio because they were cold or they didn't like being on the glaciers (or in one instance someone thought it was boring). After doing this for a while, one of the guides climbed up to a high point were he secured a position to do some repelling down a large ice wall. Every student practiced some repelling down the wall, and that took up the rest of the time. Most everyone watched during this time, which made a lot of people cold. After that, we took off the crampons, and hiked back down to the Refugio, where we ate, and headed back to La Paz.
The trip turned out to be very safe. There were no injuries or anything. A couple students got sick feeling in the altitude, but they managed to eventually pull through. Overall, it was much of what I expected. Some students loved it and had a blast, and others really didn't like it all. The next Mountaineering Club trip will probably be camping and fishing again, so that we get a good rotation of trips. Thank you all for your prayers, and any of you that helped make this trip run more smoothly, either financially, or prayerfully.

The Brothers Karamazov

2005-11-10T12:24:00.000-08:00

I just finished a really good novel by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, called The Brothers Karamazov. It has more insights than any of his other books that I've read, and by far was one of the more "deep" novels I have ever read.

"Lamentations comfort only by lacerating the heart still more. Such grief does not desire consolation. It feeds on the sense of its hopelessness. Lamentations spring only from the constant craving to re-open the wound"

As for the next MC trip, everyone has signed up. I sadly enough had to turn away students because there was not enough space.... Attatched is the flyer that I gave to everyone, and it actually worked in getting many of the girl students to sign up!

ok nevermind, i don't know how to attatch files....

El Segundo--- H2

2005-11-03T12:43:00.000-08:00

Good News.

I met with Dr. Hugo this afternoon, and the next Mountaineering Club trip is successfully set up for Novermber 18th-19th at the mountain named Huayna Potosi. Not only that, but he is giving us an awesome deal on the trip. For each student, it will only cost 200 Bs., or $25. This includes:

Equipment: Boots, Crampons, ice picks, rain gear, gators, harnesses, gloves, caribeeners (sp?), etc.
Food: Friday lunch and dinner, Saturday breakfast and lunch
Guides: 5 guides, and a doctor
Transportation: 2 Off-roading Jeeps. And a mini-bus.
Lodging: At the Refugio, which is a little cabin at the base of Huana Potosi that contains bunk beds and a kitchen.

There will be space for 15 students, and 5 of us adults from the school. We talked about the weekend a little, and decided that we will leave on Friday at around 1pm from the school and get to the mountain about 3 oclock, where we will be practicing repelling and some other fun rope-techniques off of the giant damn wall that sits at the base of the mountain. Friday night will be a time for praise/prayer/fellowship in the Refugio. Saturday we will go into the glaciers and practice climbing on Ice walls and teach everyone how to walk with the crampons. There will be one guide for every 4 students, so it will be a very safe day. We will then return to the city Saturday night, as a group of French are going to climb the mountain on Sunday.

Well I need to get going, and work on getting the flyers/bulletins/permission slips out to the families by tomorrow. Thank you so much for your prayers, and continue praying these upcoming weeks for this next trip.

Politically: If you can't stand the heat, get out of La Paz

2005-11-01T14:12:00.000-08:00

I don't give La Paz much time before we see some re-occurances of last year. Right now things are relatively peaceful and out of the news, but not for long. Here's the current, Bolivian, political climate: Cool, but heating up rapidly....soon to be REALLY HOT.

There are some different scenarios that could take place during the elections in December. The worst and most detrimental would be that there are no elections (which seems to still be an outside possibility). The current interim president would quit because he doesn't want to do it any longer, and Bolivia would be president-less. In that case, people would be upset, flying off the handle actually, throwing dynamite and rocks, setting up blockades, and spanking taxi trivers. The police would try to ease the tension with the use of rubber bullets and tear gas.

IF the elections take place, it looks like it's between one of three guys. The first, and most popular right now (at about 30% of the population), is Evo Morales. Evo is backed by funding from other socialists that we all know, Fidel Castro (Cuba) and Chavez (Venezuela). My entire church in El Alto is voting for Evo Morales because he is "for the poor people". The second guy is Tuto, who is a smart democratic politician, who holds about 28% of the populaton. The last guy is named Samuel, and he is supposed to be really "suave". My spanish professor told me that he could walk into a Burger King, and talk the workers into giving him 3 hamburgers for the price of 1.

SO WHO WILL WIN?
Nobody knows. Not even the taxi drivers, and that is SAYING something. The reason is that in order to become president, the candidate needs a majority vote, and it looks highly doubtful that that will happen. If no one gets a majority, the the decision goes to the parliament.

Even though nobody knows WHO is going to win, everyone knows WHAT is going to happen if certain people win. Want to hear? Good. If Evo (the socialist) wins, the country will be temporarily peaceful. The long term effects on his presidency could be things such as the legalization of Cocaine, and the nationalization of the national resources. If Tuto or Samuel wins, the country of Bolivia shuts down in December and January (maybe longer), due to violent demostrations by the campesinos and whoever else wanted Evo in office.

I've decided to root for Evo. I know that socialism doesn't have the greatest track record, but neither does democracy in Bolivia. We have had more presidents, and more military coups, than years of freedom. It's time for a change.

IN OTHER NEWS
I'm meeting with a guy name Hugo this Thursday who is interested in the Mountaineering Club that I've started. He is a doctor, and owner of a huge climbing organization here in La Paz. He wants to discuss prices for students, and trips that we are wanting to take later on this year. It looks like this company can be really good for the club (price-wise), and the students can be really good for the company.

Stay in Prayer for the countries political crisis, and the meeting I have this Thursday with Hugo.

My Bird and it's Arce

2005-10-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

Thought maybe that you would like this bird that I made, out of reed, over the weekend. If you were wondering why I didn't get around to posting on the Blog, it was because I was over-involved in making this bird with a ladder up its arce.

TT1 Weekend

2005-10-16T13:49:00.000-07:00

The weekend went perfectly. The weather was great on the hike out, and we didn't even get any rain until we were about ready to leave. We were able to spend a lot of time together, and a lot of time alone looking at the beauty of God. We ended up with 13 students and 4 adults. Of course the company that I rented the van from decided to send us a 17 passenger van with NO luggage rack, even though they had promised me a 20 person van with luggage rack. I called them immediately from the school, and they said, "I'm sorry, but there is nothing we can do, we sent the other van somewhere else." Luckily, we were able to fit all 17 people in with all the hiking bags AND the tents/sleeping bags/food. We were beyond scrunched the entire way there, but I had a tough bunch of students who didn't care too much. Here is the group that went, and picture in front of the magnificent Tiquimani.

Friday afternoon is when we left from the school, and we arrived at our drop off point a little after 5pm. From there we hiked for about 3 or 4 hours in beautiful weather to Tiquimani. Even when the sun went down, there was a full moon so we didn't have to turn on flashlights or headlamps. Many of the students were hurting pretty badly the last couple of hours, as we were ascending quite a bit in altitude, but I never heard any complaints, and everyone eventually made it to the base of this gigantic mountain where there sits a beautiful mountainlake. We set up camp Friday night, had dinner, and went to bed shortly after. On Saturday, we took some time for devotions, and then had the day free to fish or hike. While the fishing was very unsuccessful and the weather turned very cloudy (to the point that we couldn't see the mountain that was only 200 meters from our campsite), the hikes were still a source of energy for me and the students that did them.

Saturday night we had a group discussion on the things we had seen and the things that God had taught us through His creation. It was really good to hear some of the students open up and see what they had been thinking throughout the day, away from everything. I think everyone could relate to what was being said. Most people went to bed shortly after this because it started to rain a little. Sunday morning we packed up, stared at the mountain, and headed out.

TT1

2005-10-13T14:57:00.000-07:00

It stands for "Tiquimani Trip 1". Tomorrow at about 1pm I head to Tiquimani with about 15 students. Let´s just say that I'm glad the planning is over, because that's all I've done this entire week. Anyways, pray for the trip, as we are going into the heart of the Zongo Valley. Pray for safety, and that the students will have a good time.

Ok I will post when it's all over to let you all know how it went.

LLAMAS

2005-10-06T14:26:00.000-07:00

A picture especially sent to my sister. Unfortunately Christie, none of these Llamas spit at me as I walked up out of the Choro trail a few weeks back.... Also, I have added some pictures to my entries below as I've recently figured out how to do so. It was actually quite easy :)

Student Diagram

2005-10-06T14:11:00.000-07:00

As I was in class, an 8th grade student of mine, Matheo, asked me if he could diagram on the board a visualization of life. I naturally wanted to see the picture that had formed in his brain, so told him to go ahead. Little did he know that later I would take a picture of it to share with you all.

Obviously this diagram BEGS certain questions. But I thought it was at the very least a pretty interesting outlook. He reads this blog, so if you have any questions, just ask him in the comment section. I'm sure he can explain it better than I can.

The Huayna Split

2005-10-02T16:14:00.000-07:00

I find myself torn the more time I'm here. On the one hand, there is school and all my students. On the other hand, there is everything else. Where do I put my time/energy, and what is more important to me? Or is that a stupid question, and it is completely possible to split myself, enjoying the joys and pains of both worlds. How spread can a person become and still be usefull to the people around him/her? Where is the balance between using God's wisdom and using God's strength?

I believe these are questions that can only be answered by a quiet heart and open ears in the presence of Our Lord.

so I will wait.....

I had lunches/dinners with quite a few families this weekend, all of whom wanted to know where I've been over the last month. The truth was easy. I've been working at the school during the day, and preparing lessons at night. The conversations, however, made me miss many things that I used to be more involved in.......most generally, life in El Alto. After a year, I am still amazed at how willing these families are to put an extra meal on the table for a person who has so many resources already, especially when they themselves have the daily struggle of providing for a family of 8, maybe more. It is a very true, and sobering, glimpse into the heart of Jesus.

I digress.

Here is a song, composed by a guy named Bruce Cockburn, after he toured South America in 1983. I heard it for the first time while I was having dinner up at my old house in El Alto this weekend. I personally am a proponent of a form of democracy, so I can't say that I agree with this song at its core. And if I'm honest, I mostly put this in here because I like the last 5 lines (especially the last 2). Brent, these last couple of lines are specifically for you.

Call It A Democracy

padded with power here they come
international loan sharks backed by the guns
of market hungry military profiteers
whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared
with the blood of the poor

who rob life of its quality
who render rage a necessity
by turning countries into labour camps
modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom

sinister cynical instrument
who makes the gun into a sacrament --
the only response to the deification
of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations'
idolatry of ideology

north south east west
kill the best and buy the rest
it's just spend a buck to make a buck
you don't really give a flying fuck
about the people in misery

IMF dirty MF
takes away everything it can get
always making certain that there's one thing left
keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

see the paid-off local bottom feeders
passing themselves off as leaders
kiss the ladies shake hands with the fellows
open for business like a cheap bordello

and they call it democracy
and they call it democracy
and they call it democracy
and they call it democracy

see the loaded eyes of the children too
trying to make the best of it the way kids do
one day you're going to rise from your habitual feast
to find yourself staring down the throat of the beast
they call the revolution

Las Vistas Bellezas

2005-09-28T13:49:00.000-07:00

I would have liked to make a post on Monday while my thoughts were more fresh on the weekend, but I didn't.

Friday morning we took off for a hike down an old Incan trail, being we had our first day off of the year that was called "spring break", a constant joke amongst the teachers. The hike started in the snow capped mountains of the Cordillera Real, a little bit to the southeast of Huayna Potosi. The morning sun glistened off the snow to create an atmosphere that instantaneously energized me, along with the fresh morning air that only mountains can offer. Part of me just wanted to sit and enjoy the beauty around me, watching the sparkling water run down the hillsides from the melting snow, the llamas make the slow but yet graceful journey up the mountains, and the valley below fill with a cold fog that would eventually journey upward. But I knew the distance I had ahead of me, and the time limit that the weekend imposed, so I regretfully but joyfully started down the trail.

Down the trail means DOWN the trail. Basically the whole hike is downwards, as it starts at about 4,600 meters and descends to about 1500 meters. Most people take 3 days to hike the trail, and that is what is recommended, but to me it was more advantageous to do it in two days, so that I could get back to La Paz on Sunday and study for the upcoming week of school. The trail, or el camino, amazed me very quickly. Within 6 hours, we had descended into a complete surrounding of green called the Yungas, or pre-jungle. Slick rocks from surrounding waterfulls cut accross the trail to create patterns that my feet magically found. Slipping here and there I managed to keep my balance and descend past villages where people's families have lived for centuries. They were always friendly as they saw us, and never ceased to give us false information on how much farther to the next pueblito. At about 6:30 on Friday night when we were all sore from the rough downhill, we set up camp by the river, ate, and talked for a few hours. Night passed rather quickly, and by 8 am we were all off again, this time a bit slower as our muscles and successfully and painfully tightened over the night. Others were a bit slower going down the slick path, and I found myself walking with a Bolivian and his two horses that were carrying supplies back from La Paz. He told me we only had about a half hour until the next pueblo, and I walked with him for another hour until we crossed it......where I said good-bye and waited for the others.

From there I realized how much longer we had. One of the girls had blisters the size of knuckles on her feet, and could not physically make it very long without stopping to ease the pain. The rest of the day was spent walking up and down this cut path in the mountainside, silently enjoying the beauty around us in the forms of birds, bugs, and the color green that marks the sign of life in the wild. We hiked in the darkness on Saturday night, slept a few hours, and finished off the journey early Sunday morning.

For me it was relaxing to walk in God's presence and hear Him speak through his creation. It always is. The trail was longer than I had expected, and what got me was the length that the Incans walked at one period of time. Their knowledge of the terrain must have been incredible, and their perseverance remarkable. The rivers they crossed without bridges, the downhill/uphill that their joints endured, or just the pure length of the trail. I could feel them on the trail, and see the roughness that they had to hike through. Though I could always understand how they did it. God had given them energy from the surroudings, in the forms of smooth white rocks cut by years of water, the shades that fell across the mountains as the sun set, or the birds that flew overhead with neon green wings and blue tails. It cleared my own mind of the thousands of things that pass through it in a given school week. I really only thought of one thing when in the beauty of God, and that was of God himself. There weren't any pressing issues or other focuses. How can there when you're seeing God in everything around you, and that's exactly how he designed us. He is in the stresses of everyday life, the pains and the joys of the heart, and the people we are serving.

I close with a quote I read on Ethan's Blog, by Dostoyevsky:

"Sometimes he longed to get away, to vanish from here altogether. He would have been positively glad to be in some gloomy, deserted place, only that he might be alone with his thoughts and no one might know where he was. Or at least to be at home in the verandah...to throw himself on the sofa and bury his head in the pillow, and to lie like that for a day and a night and another day. At moments he dreamed of mountains, and especially one familiar spot which he always liked to think of, a spot to which he had been fond of going and from which he used to look down on the village, on the waterfall gleaming like a white thread below, on the white clouds and the old ruined castle. Oh, how he longed to be there now, and to think of one thing!"

Sorata

2005-09-20T13:57:00.000-07:00

It's impossible to travel in Bolivia without something interesting happening. This last weekend I went to Sorata for the Bolivian Downhill bike race that starts in the Chu Chu pass and descends 4,000 meters on a sing-track to Sorata, in about an hour. The drive to Sorata from La Paz isn't a bad trip. It only takes about 4 hours, and only about 2 hours of that are down the switchbacks into the much lower altitude where you find Sorata. The only thing is that the switchbacks have to be driveable. And by driveable, I mean that have to exist.

About a half an hour into the switchbacks, we come to a point in the road where it had completely caved out along the mountainside. A truck had caved in with the road, and looked like it was built into the mountainside. Unfortunately for us, it was about midnight, and raining. Some guys got out and started searching for other options. Eventually, Andy decided to take our truck offroading down the steep mountainside onto the switchback below. It worked, thank God.

The time in Sorata was pretty relaxing and uneventful (for those of us not riding in the race). Heather got stuck in a trees branches, literally, as we hiked up a ravine. And I found out that the 3 younger Word Made Flesh missionaries (heather, wes, and kara) really like to argue about logical issues-such as when to use Humus ingrediants. I personally think it goes back to the time that Wes told Heather that the "rational mind is clearly superior". no comment.

On the bus ride back from Sorata Sunday, I got sick. I evetually ended up getting off the bus on the outskirts of El Alto to find a bathroom. I found one, and then decided I needed to get back to my place as soon as possible, so I found a taxi driver willing to take me the half hour for only 40 Bs., about $5. As sick as I was feeling, I talked to him the whole way, and it turned out to be rather pleasant. We talked about the politics of the country, what he thought would happen in December, and then about Religion. Although my spanish is still very broken, I told him about the church i attend in El Alto, and what Christianity is really about......because many of the "christian" ideas here are very mixed with witchcraft and pachamama beliefs. It was a good conversation, and he ended up offering me his number to call him for rides, or to go up to the church some Sunday.

I spent the rest of Sunday night throwing up in the bathroom. By the time it was daylight and time to go to school, I had nothing left in me to come out so I was able to make it through a long day of teaching. It was probably the best sickness I've had in Bolivia because it came and went in less than 12 hours, and it wasn't really that painful. Maybe my digestive system is ready for this place this year....

.....or maybe I was just lucky this time.

My Address

2005-09-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

I'm heading out to Sorata tomorrow for the Bolivian downhill bike race. It starts up in the foothills of the Mountain Illampu, and descends a few thousand meters to Sorata. I went last year and it was a blast, mostly because someone had an extra bike and I was able to do it on the practice day.

The school just got a new address. And by "just" I mean they got it a few weeks ago, and I've been too lazy to copy it down until now. Anyways, here it is, in case you get the urge to send down a letter or package :)

Jon Watson
Highlands International School
P.O. Box 3-12468
La Paz, Bolivia
South America

Trip down Memory Past

2005-09-11T13:11:00.000-07:00

Let's see. This weekend was finally free as last weekend we lost both of our softball games (the first one by 3 and the second one by 2) and got eliminated from the tournament in a respectable third place finish. What I decided to do with my first free weekend was to go into the mountains and spend some time hiking around. Little did I know it would bring back such vivid flashbacks.

On Saturday morning at about 6am I took a bus headed for Coroico, and at a point where the mountains looked interesting, I asked the bus-driver to let me off. I told him I had plenty of food, and a tent, which appeased his inquisitive face almost instantaneously. He said what they always say, "que te vaya bien", and I was off. I had my compass, and what I knew was that I wanted to head North. My map, unfortunately, was up at the Baker's house, but I figured I would eventually hit a place that I knew (which turned out to be a correct assumption), or in the worst case scenario I could always just head West and eventually hit the Altiplano. You see, that's why I had my compass...

It started off as a hike down some valleys. Then I went over some passes that must have been 5,000 meters, or more. Then up another valley, and over another pass. Not too bad, right? Well, coming over this last pass, I came across a trail that looked familiar.....a little tooo familiar. My instinct told me to go back, and go back fast. But my mind reasoned with me and reminded me that the passes I just came over would be real difficult in the opposite direction. AND it said to me, what are the chances that this IS the trail, and that I will have to do it AGAIN.

Flashback: August, 2004
I had only been in Bolivia for 2 weeks. My body had not yet acclimatized, but Drew, Scott, and I agreed to go on a hike with Andy Baker. We had decided upon this at 2 am on a Saturday morning, and left two hours later without any sleep. I borrowed tennis shoes and clothes from Scott and Andy as there was no time to descend to the southern zone and get my own stuff. Our goal was to do this hike that would theoretically take about 8 hours. The bus dropped us off in the Zongo valley around 7am, and we started the hike feeling very adventurous, even with the relentless weather as it poured snow and rain upon us. At about 11 am, we ate our lunch in a cave, feeling very good about the distance we had made. Mind you, this was all the food we had with us, because the hike would only "take" another 4 hours. 15 minutes later we came across the most impressive mountain I had ever seen, Tiquimani (the guardian of the Zongo Valley). The weather cleared for about 20 minutes, and we just sat there and stared at it, before the clouds rolled back in and the weather worsened once more. The visibility quickly reduced to feet in front of us. At this point, Andy says to us, "well we either continue or go back, your choice". Scott, Drew, and I decide that there is "no such thing as going back", so we continue on our course. The only thing is we didn't continue on our course. We went way off course..... a good two hours off course.....in bad weather. At this time I developed the worst headache of my life, probably because of the altitude we were in. By the time we got back onto the course, we only had about 2 hours of sunlight left, and we had to find a pass that Andy had never been to. If we didn't find the pass, we would be there all night. We didn't have tents, and we didn't have more food, because this was only going to be an 8-10 hour hike. Well it got dark fast. We found out we only had one headlamp (again, because we were just going to be hiking in the day) and that the batteries were low (poor planning). We couldn't find the pass, and it was now about 7pm and completely dark. The only thing we could do was to keep moving to keep warm, so we hiked in the direction we thought was correct, using the one headlamp for all of us. We were hiking on the edge, and had no idead where we were. To the left was almost always a fatal drop(probably at the least 1,000 ft), and to the right was just a steep incline. By 2am we heard a river, and the clouds cleared for a second to reveal some peaks, that Andy recognized. We immediately climbed down to the river, which proved to be very difficult with only one headlamp. The river was fairly big, and it took us another hour or so to cross it safely. On the other side of the river is where we came across the most dangerous thing we did. It was an 80, maybe 90 degree in some places, ascent up a bank with nothing to hold onto but grass. My heart as never beat faster than when I was about 30 or 40 feet up and only holding onto grass that was tearing out like crazy. Probably about 50 feet up, it became level, and we were able to stand. Andy immediately recognized that we were on the Choro trail, and only "hours" from La Cumbre, where we could find transportation.

Relief. That's the best way to describe it. It was now 4am, and we had been hiking for 21 hours straight, only one meal. Well to make a longer story short, we got on this trail, and hiked up it (people only hike down this trail, but we wouldn't have gotten to a place with transportation going down for another day or so). Andy went ahead of us, and told us, "when you get to the switchbacks, you're done". About 3 hours later, Drew, Scott, and I hit the switchbacks. THE SWITCHBACKS WENT UP A HUGE MOUNTAIN, ANDY HAD LIED. You see, we were tired. We hadn't slept in 2 nights now, we hadn't eaten since the previous days lunch, we weren't acclimatized, we had been hiking for 24 hours, and we were extremely wet and cold from the weather and the river. Drew could only take about 10 steps at a time before he needed a break to vomit as we ascended the switchbacks, so Scott and I had to leave him because it hurt us too much to stop so frequently. Scott had to frequently wait for me to catch up as he was much stronger than I during this all. About 3 hours later, Scott and I finally summited "la Cumbre" where there was a Taxi. 27 hours straight.

Back to this Weekend
Sure enough, this was the trail. Obviously not all of the dread returned, knowing that I had food, sleep, energy, ya know everything you need for a hike. SO, I started to ascend up this trail once again. It seemed easy, as long as I kept my mind off of the last time. As soon as I would think about the last time, my legs grew heavy, my steps shortened and slowed, and I felt sick. It's funny the tricks the mind can play, because as soon as I would start to forget the past the extreme tiredness would go away. I was still tired, but just not in the same way. I made it up the switchbacks (which I think are 1,200 meters verticle) in about an hour this time. I got some pictures of Llamas and mountains along the way. Very enjoyable.

It made me think. Dwelling on the past obviously didn't help me, as I would start to experience some of the same pains of heavy legs, hungry stomach, and cold feet and hands. But remembering the past helped, because I knew where I was going, and what was coming up. Really, it's the same in life. Without remembering the past, we can't really continue to grow. Our past is what we need to draw on to keep making progress in the future. We must remember the crucifiction and resurrection of Jesus daily to remind us where we came from, the state of complete sin that we were once in and the sin that can so easily bond us again. We must remember, we must not forget. But we must not dwell. How can we grow if we are dwelling on what we once were? We are alive in Him, forgiven of our sins, and it is that freedom from sin that allows us to make progress in this life. We are no longer in bondage to it, as He tells us (dwelling on the past). Always remember, but never dwell.

This is why I am starting a Mountaineering Club for the students. We will learn together the truths that are so evident in the nature around us (Mountains and Valleys) and in our own nature. Next weekend I plan on taking 2 students and another teacher to plan the exact location of our first trip and spend time in prayer for the upcoming months and the direction we want to head. Until next time....

Peace and Love,
Jon

The Wende's

2005-09-01T17:15:00.000-07:00

I thought it was gonna be one of those weeks with little to do at nights, but it has turned out to be a very busy, and fruitful, week. Tonight I had dinner with the Wende's, minus Ron because he is in the states. It was something I wanted to do since I first arrived, but I kept putting it off because I was "too busy" until today. It was great conversation at dinner, and let me just say, I will miss them VERY much. They are moving to the states next Monday, and La Paz will no longer be the same for anyone who knew them. They are the family I first lived with when I came last year, and have cared for me since the moment I arrived. It was Ron who took me to the doctors in the middle of the night when I was in more pain than I can ever remember. It was Ron who started the idea of the Mountaineering Club, which will take off this year. Some of my favorite conversations in La Paz happened at the table of the Wende's, whether it was on Bolivian politics, school agendas, micro-economics in Bolivia, or just learning about each other's pasts and how faithful God has been through everything. When the Lord told them to help start the school, they poured everything they had into it, and it was more than visible that they were following God's calling in their lives. And now.... God has called them to another place, in the states, where I'm sure they will follow Him as they have before with the same efforts.

So to Ron, Maria Ester, Ian, Michael, and Dasha, I can only Say Thank You for being faithful to the Lord. God's love has shown thru you, and I am a better person because of you.

weekend

2005-08-27T07:12:00.000-07:00

Everyone from the School traveled to Copacabana this weekend, looking for a relaxing weekend on the "beaches" of Lago Titicaca. Because I've been to Copacabana more than enough, and because hanging out with 5 Elementary female teachers didn't sound relaxing, I decided to hang back and play in the opening round of the La Paz Softball Playoffs. My team: The Japanese Condors. We'll see what happens. Hopefully my bat remains hot as I'm hitting .900 in August.

I've decided on the first trip for the Mountaineering Club. We'll be leaving in 2 weekends for the Zongo Valley where we'll be camping and climbing NEAR Tiquimani, not up it. I'll probably just allow about 5 students to come on this one, because of supplies and whatnot, but it should be a good time. It is by far the most beautiful location that I have found in the Cordillera Real. If I ever figure out how to post pictures on this Blogspot, I will definately do it.

Other than that, it's been a pretty tranquilo weekend. I saw a bad movie last night with Heather and Kara (the new WMF intern in El Alto). We got some coffee afterwards and I watched Heather make a diagram on paper that linked about 100 actors/actresses in Holleywood relating to who they've dated or married. She thinks it answers a lot of questions as to why people do movies together (to get back at ex-lovers and whatnot). I was too tired to really pay attention as she did it, but it got a lot more interesting when we did it with our own lives afterwards. The Scott/Voss/Kate/Jordan/Brent/Amanda relationships are always funny to re-live.

That's it.

in the news...

2005-08-24T17:35:00.000-07:00

I read in the Bolivian papers today about a comment from Christian Broadcaster Pat Robertson making a comment about wanting the assassination of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.....or at least that was my "professional" translation from Spanish to English. The writer had never heard of Pat Robertson, but the comment made the Bolivian papers because of the close involvement with Chavez to many of the Bolivian socialist leaders, such as Evo Moralis.

I don't know much on what was said, but from what I read, it seems about as ignorant a comment as I've heard in a long time. The controversey once again boils down to a socialist government, that the US (or Pat Robertson) views as a possible staging point for the "invasion" of communism (alongside Fidel Castro of Cuba) into the Americas. In my opinion, the assassination of one leader will bring about another in time because.... Socialism will always be a draw in places where people are oppressed and the poor are seen in masses. Maybe Socialism isn't the problem (if you think it is one at all) that we should be reacting to in the first place.

Again, I did not read much on what was said, but I think the comment in itself probably shows the root of a big problem between US thought and many of the countries of this world. Can people in these countries help but call the US imperialists?

In related news, I'm thinking of setting up a socialist type of system at my school in Mallasilla. I'm gaining support rather quickly among the students. My principle, on the other hand....

I now have a cell phone, and my number is 705-51-798. i don't know the Bollivian code if you're calling from the states, but feel free to find out if the mood strikes you! Also, the school is getting a new mailing address sometime soon, so I'll post that as soon as I find out what it is. Just remember, 705-51-798

First Day Back

2005-08-15T14:10:00.000-07:00

Well, my time in the States has already come to an end, and it turned out to be a wonderful two months. It was harder than I had expected, as I had to say hello and goodbye to family and many good friends in practically the same breath....never knowing quite what to say about Bolivia and scared to talk about it too much.

And now I find myself back in this land that continually amazes me. Coming down into the city this morning was surreal, as it fully dawned on me that this is my next year....in this place....with these people. I went immediately from the airplane to the school this morning, where I met new teachers and new students, while re-uniting with the old ones. I was pretty tired going into the day, but energy came in the form of seeing little Sarah run at me and a big hug, or the conversations that took place all day long. I had an assignment in my 8th classes where we had to share what we learned this summer and how we were going to apply it in our lives (which they knew was coming in some shape or form). I was instantaneously reminded by Jose Manuel how ridiculous junior highers can be when he shared that he learned that too many video games causes severe pain in the eyes and that in the future he will use eye drops. Directly after Berman reminded me how awesomely sincere junior highers can be as he shared about an experience over the summer where the Lord spoke to him and he felt the spirit of God fill him to the point where he couldn't help but to cry and laugh at the same time. As he talked to the class about what God had told him, tears flooded his eyes while he recalled the feeling of having a personal God in his life. Amazing...the depth of children.

All in all, it's good to back. Scary that I'll be here for a year, but very good. Thanks to all who made my summer so enjoyable.

4guys at 14 no longer

2005-07-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

I couldn't post on the other blogspot when our name was 4 guys at 14,000. So i made a new blog website, or whatever it's called, and will be posting weekly, por lo menos.

I'm back in the states. Will leave August 14th.