Short Post

       I meant to post earlier today, but now it's getting late and I'm ready for bed! So, I'll put these pictures and a brief update of the week. 

       I bought jewelry making supplies for the girls, they have been having fun making earrings, (as have I!) We had a Christmas party with the boys on Friday, and tomorrow we are having a party with the entire foundation. 

       Christmas day, after spending the morning with the boys, I will be going to the girls' house to pick up some of the older ones, we are going to get coffee and then come back to my apartment (more accurately, go upstairs to my friend's apartment because she is out of town and said we could use her TV and couch. ;) ) and we are going to watch the Nutcracker. Then I'll drop the girls off at their house, come back to my place, and buy my tickets to come home at the end of February.

       It is finally sinking in today that I am missing Christmas at home with my family and church family- I'm glad to spend the day with the kids, but I'm missing home today and 9 weeks feel longer than it did yesterday. I had to laugh as I realized that I was sitting mournfully at my table, singing along with Bing Crosby, 'I'll Be Home For Christmas'

      My friend and her husband did, however, take me out for lunch as my Christmas gift, so that was fun! 

      I had all sorts of things to write about during the week, and I kept saying "I should write this down now so that I remember," but I didn't, and now I don't remember, so I'm going to bed and going to hope that I can formulate something better for next week! (Which I should be able to, because of all the activities these next two days!!!)

    Merry Christmas to you all, 

    With love, 

    Susannah

Reflections and Memories

    I realized that I only have ten weeks more of quiet afternoons, so I've finally begun trying to collect all my memories in one place, beginning with the airport in Peoria. Part of that "research" process, is reading my journal, emails, notes, prayer journal, etc, to remind myself of my initial thoughts, fears, struggles, and so on.
    Life has become so normal, even mundane at times, I don't really feel like a missionary, it just feels like- life. (Which can be frustrating because while I like things that look or sound big and glorious-the reality of my life is not quite hardly so fabulous or "holy" as I would like.) It is so strange to look back on my "early days." The days of being clueless in regards to the language, the days of being ignorant of the culture, the days of fearing public transport, the days of not knowing the kids, the days of loving the idea of loving the kids- Don't get me wrong, I liked them, but I didn't understand their words or their personalities and they really frustrated me. They still frustrate me at times, but it is a different kind of frustration now. It's the kind that can look at them, shake my head, rebuke them and then still cuddle up to read a story or have a tickle fight. The kind that, even though I have to punish them, they know I love them, and I know they love me. In my first months here, I didn't have any authority and barely any vocabulary, I would just get frustrated and feel like a failure.
      God has been gracious and taught me so much, the language for one, and also so much about how to love and live with these kids. He has opened my eyes and my heart to see their value and their brokenness, to reflect on the beauty of adoption, but also the tragedy that necessitates adoption.
      Then, He opened my eyes even more, yes they are orphans, but they are individuals that I have come to know and love for who they are, not just a pity for their fate, but a love for their smile, their laugh, their infatuation with fashion, or movies, or books, or stickers. To recognize their cries, to know how to set it right. My heart melts and breaks when I walk into the girls' house and my Fabi comes running to me calling, "Mami!!! Tia Mami!!!" Damaris close at her heels. It's interesting to see how relationships have developed and changed over the past ten months. I never would have thought that I would be closest with Fabiola out of all the kids, but so it is, (especially since the transition of homes.)
       In my first few weeks, even months here, I never imagined that my heart would squeeze and my eyes well with tears at the thought of having to say goodbye forever to these kids, but now it is true. I hated going to parties in my first few months here, I didn't know all the kids, I felt awkward and out of place and I didn't understand what was going on. Last night I went to a graduation party, (was an hour and a half late because I had trusted a twelve-year-old and not asked anyone else the time for the party!) I danced with the girls, young and older, laughed, talked with other tias, goofed off with a couple of the older girls, ate Bolivian food, switched between Spanish and English... All the things I never thought I'd be able to do. Or how earlier this week I was chatting with Dalia, (I think she's 16) and she saw that I had brought a book to read with the girls, she was asking if I had more books that I could lend her. In the midst of that conversation, I learned that she really wanted to read 'Pride and Prejudice' (one of my favorite stories ever!) I own the book and the movie, I told her I'd lend them to her, and her eyes got so big with excitement! Almost my entire Spanish book collection is now at the girls' house being passed around until all the older girls have read them. To be able to share my love of reading with a bunch of Bolivian high school girls has been a highlight this month, and something that I never imagined happening!

     This year has been marked with tears, guilt, shame, but also with joy, laughter, learning, and love. Many times this year I have cried out to God and said,
       "If I'm not serving you, I just want to go home. I don't see how I'm making a difference." While I certainly hope that I have made a difference for the Kingdom of God, I wouldn't change these months for the world, unless it would be to go back to my hardest months and tell myself that the time goes too fast, to stop whining and to embrace a little more the moment. To stay a little longer at the orphanage with the kids, even if I'm tired, to laugh a little harder with Raquel, to chat a little longer with Josue, to answer Jose Luis' questions a twentieth time... Time goes too fast, memories become distant, and children grow up too fast, I'll go home, and life will go on- but oh these precious children, I want their memories to last forever in my mind. (Actually, I want to bring them all home with me... But that won't be possible.)

I have learned so much, and these kids have come to mean so much to me, more than I could have imagined. God is good, He is faithful, He knows what He is doing, and He has filled my heart with thankfulness, love, and joy.

A Short Post

    This week has been tiring, but good! I find that being with the older kids is totally fun, though mentally tiring because they actually want to talk and receive intelligent sounding responses in Spanish!
     Not much out of the ordinary has happened, except for a day of blockades over a political situation.
     It's been good to be seeing the girls again, little Damaris has fallen asleep on my a couple of times. That has been so fun, I've missed her, as well as the other girls!
     Nothing much to report, my friends, that live in the apartment above me, left for the States this afternoon. They won't be back until 2019. (Isn't that crazy???) I'm a little jealous because they will be 45 minutes from my house for part of their time, but I also know that my time to go home is coming and that I need to keep my eyes and heart set on the time that I have left with the kids here.

First Week of New Kids

      This week was busy, I had a couple long days at the baby house as the girls moved into the girls home, and then the boys were combined with the boys from house 2. I am really enjoying getting to know the new boys, they are really precious. I have also been the main tia in the mornings (which no one told me that was going to happen) but remarkably, it is going well! Tomorrow will be my first day at the girls' house, I am looking forward to seeing the girls that I have been with the past 9 months, and I hope that my reception from the older girls will be as delightful as it has been with the younger boys.
       As I have been with the 2 to 9-year-old boys, I have become increasingly thankful for the times that I was able to play with my brothers, and various friends, soccer and, on occasion, baseball. It has come in very handy with these boys! (As I highly doubt they would enjoy sitting in my lap reading a story.) We ran around the yard kicking soccer balls and playing catch, granted, I still tire much faster than they do, (and there is no way that I'll consider competing against the bigger boys!) but I was able to hold my own amongst the young ones and have fun with them!
       There was one point where I was scratching out a grocery list while the boys were playing, two of them came up to me, Joel (9) and Alejandro (8) and they were trying to read it. It was so cute to hear Joel's pronunciation of the English words, each time he'd look up and say, "What's that?" Then Alejandro wanted to try, "It's in English." I warned him. He looked at me as if I had just told him that I live in a castle in the sky, "You speak English???" Alejandro also gave me random hugs throughout the day on Friday, so that was precious. My fears of not being able to understand the boys have been mostly unfounded, so that is relieving. I also will get a lot more Spanish practice now, because the kids are at an age where they really want to converse, not just read stories or receive orders. 
     
     Abrahan was freaking out and throwing a fit with another tia a few days ago, I had finished eating so I offered to take him out of the dining room to talk with him. He was angry because he didn't want to eat liver (I couldn't blame him too much for that!) but then because of that, he had thrown his silverware and so they gave him a spoon in place of a fork. Then he was angry because he didn't want to eat with a spoon. All that to say, I had him on my lap explaining repeatedly that "Though you don't want to eat with a spoon, you have to accept that it is your punishment, and next time you'll remember that if you want to use a fork you musn't throw it on the floor."

"But I don't want to eat the meat!" He wailed next.
"There are lots of people in the world that don't have meat or spoons." I proceeded sagely, "We should thank God for giving us yummy meat and spoons to eat with." I then began to pray with him and explain to God that Abrahan was upset and didn't want to obey, and to ask God to help Abrahan to obey. I also thanked God for spoons and meat... I don't think I have ever thanked God for a spoon before!!! Anyway, we finished and I hoped that it would end the argument. While it did help to calm Abrahan down, he still adamantly refused to eat. He started to get comfy and I could picture me being there for another hour if I kept him on my lap, so I set him on to the floor where we could sit facing each other. That started another battle,
"I'm going to get dirty!!!!!" He screamed at me. (Mind you, this is a three-year-old boy who doesn't like to wash his face and hands and loves to play in the dirt and eat food off the floor.) I looked at him and huffed something in Russian, he started to throw an even bigger fit. Just out of curiosity I switched to English, he didn't like that very much either.
I went back to Spanish and informed him, "I know the night tias and have worked with them before, our floors are always clean. You won't get dirty." As I spoke, I grabbed his arm so that he couldn't throw himself down in a temper. The next thing I knew he was screaming, "You'll get me dirty with your hands!!!"
Oh, that child.
I looked at him and very calmly said, "My hands are clean."
He finally calmed down and agreed to go back into the dining room. He sat down, and as soon as he saw the spoon he began to lose it again.
"Abrahan, eat with your spoon or I will speak to you in Russian." I threatened, needing a sense of humor to get me through this episode of daily life.
He didn't start eating, so I began to say "I'll speak to you in Russian" (but in Russian) and he freaked out, so I switched back to Spanish and said, "I'll speak to you in Spanish now, but you have to eat!!!" And that helped! Granted, I had to spoon feed him, but he ate from a spoon and all of his food.

        Can you believe that December is finally here? It has been hard to feel the traditional, mid-western, "Christmasy" theme, but today has brought almost constant rain and chilly temperatures. It feels like an Illinois December! I've been listening to Handel's Messiah and drinking cups of hot tea and coffee, I was going to have brownies too, (I splurged at the grocery store, brownies from the US are pretty expensive here.) Anyway, I put them in the oven and went to find an open coffee shop while they baked. It is "Dia del peaton" (Pedestrian day) So that means that no cars are allowed to be out. It was really peaceful, and the air was crisp and a tad drizzly, but thankfully not fully raining for the time that I was out. I went in a great big circle, doing the rounds of my favorite coffee shops to find one that wasn't closed, the fourth one that I checked on was open. I bought my coffee and headed back to my apartment, only to find that I had guessed wrong on the temperature that I set my oven at. (It doesn't have any way of knowing what temperature it's at, and this was my first time using it.) So my expensive and going-to-have-been-delicious brownies were burnt to a crisp. 

    Dreaming of home, of white Christmases, of my piano, of my piles of books, of thrift stores, of my church, friends, discussing the height of the corn and the amount of rain, of going back to school. 12 weeks isn't so very long, that's how many more Sunday blog posts I will write before coming home. Time passes so quickly, and even faster now, the weeks will soon be in the single digits. So, in the midst of my dreaming, I am also thankful that I am here in this beautiful country with these sweet children. I will miss pedestrian days, street food on every corner (in addition to little tiendas) the kids just ten mins away, friends in the apartment above me, public transport that gives a different view into Bolivian lives- it is all beautiful, everything in its own way. Just as the sun setting behind a bunch of haybales thrills my heart, things here have become that way too. Isn't God neat? His creativity is incredible, not only in the way he created cultures, languages, people, but also His way of taking unlikely circumstances and using them to teach me and grow me. When I first got here I was not in love with this place. It seemed weird, (it is still weird, but in a  funny, quirky way now.) I couldn't understand anything, I didn't fit in, and I just wanted to come home. This week I received a uniform, (FINALLY!) It is a very Bolivian style and I love it. I wear it proudly- I finally feel like a real tia!!! (Plus, the pockets are huge and incredible!) I went to a laundry mat and a pharmacy chatted with the lady doing my laundry, stopped in at random shops, went in different streets this morning just to see what I would find (and I didn't freak out about getting lost!) My landlady came over to give me the contract and discuss it a bit, as well as figure out some payment details, I didn't need a translator. I know I've been saying this for a while, but to be able to communicate is so incredibly humanizing!!!

     People, cultures, languages, they are all beautiful and unique. I am ever so thankful that God has created them!!!