That's what I titled this post when I started writing it almost two weeks ago, and since then so much more has happened that I am actually no longer in the country. I am writing this after the fact from home. Who could have thought. But let me just continue telling the story from where I left off last time.
On Thursday, Sept. 27th, we went to the guesthouse after lunch. It happened kinda fast. One minute I was marking Seth's math in the hot schoolroom, and 20 minutes later we had eaten lunch, Jake and Anita had finished Spanish lessons, Isabelle and I had packed up for an undetermined number of days away from the Derksens', we had driven to the guesthouse, said hello to the Friesens, moved into our room, and were driving uptown in a taxi with Mr. Friesen, who had just gotten back from Canada at four in the morning, to get mine and Isabelle's visas renewed. We were able to get up to 90 days stamped on mine, and I'll have to pay fines for the number of days I stay over that. (I never had to pay any fines in the end. There's that.)
Then we spent the afternoon and evening at the guesthouse with the kids, playing Phase 10 and Spicy Uno and Janitor, while the parents did various errands. The next morning Margie and the kids brought us to El Jordan (El Hor DAN), where they left us, saying goodbye to Isabelle, for they were heading back to Charagua that day, which freed the Neufelds up to come and spend the weekend with us.
About El Jordan: it is run by Corina, who is a sister to Carolyn Reimer, our original contact. It reminded me of Vision Rescue in that it taught street women to do a trade while caring for and teaching their kids. We spent all day cleaning out a short-term accommodation that was full of sheets and clothes and towels needing to be sorted and folded. We ate supper and spent the evening on the roof, contemplating and talking about our time so far. Eventually there was a church meeting and we helped babysit the babies before Corina drove us back to the quiet, lonely guesthouse.
The next afternoon the Neufelds arrived. Doreen took Isabelle and I fabric shopping, and then we met up with the rest of them and the Derksens at "Diver City", and the kids played on bouncers and in ball pits for a while. After that we all went to the Las Brisas mall for supper, and Isabelle and I got our own food and ordered our own ice cream, feeling very grown-up and independent and good at Spanish.
We had planned on going to Campo Leon for church the next day, but the Neufelds vehicle broke down, so we didn't, and then the vehicle worked again, so we went to the zoo instead. That was cool, but we still missed the iguanas by a few inches. After the zoo we went to La Casa del Camba for lunch. Now that is a cool restaurant. All the waiters and waitresses were wearing green and white (which are the colours of Santa Cruz) and straw hats. We had alligator, and tamarindo, and mocachinchi, and yucca, and peanut soup, to name a few of the many novelty foods and drinks.
Then that afternoon we went to the plaza. Sundays are the good shopping days at the plaza because all sorts of tables are set up under a tent like a farmers' market. Isabelle and I shopped souvenirs to our hearts' content. Then I got the kids some cotton candy and we climbed up the bell tower in the catholic church and looked out over the plaza and the whole city, pretty much.
Then we came back to the guest house and bashed open a coconut - no, that was before. I'm forgetting. Coconut water is where it's at, by the way. I took a piece of the coconut along to Derksens' that evening, and dug out bits of the meat and ate it while I listened to the adult conversation and counted the number of times they switched from Dietsch to English and back again.
We stayed at the Derksens' from then on, doing two more school days, and then, on Tuesday evening, we went out for supper before Isabelle left. We were going to go to the food truck up the street, but feared it might bring on some stomachular problems, and went to Copacabana instead, which is just like KFC. (It was right beside a KFC, in fact.) We took our time about eating, and got to the airport at 10:30, wanting to beat the lineups for a 2:30 flight. We ended up seeing her through security at just before midnight.
Isabelle made it safely and smoothly home in one day, even though she had a tight layover in Toronto. I, meanwhile, wasn't doing so great.
I had had a fever on Monday afternoon, and ever since I felt sort of disconnected. Then on Wednesday I was so tired I had to take a nap during the school morning, and kind of from then on I was in the foggy, dream-like state that I've experienced a couple times in the past to do with my concussion. Jake and Anita were wonderful - they cared and prayed for me, and just let me rest. On the Friday I got the flu, which was going around Santa Cruz at the time, and was pretty weak and miserable for a couple days. The Friesens were back in town for more paperwork, and they came over on the Sunday, and I just sat and listened to the conversation, looking forward to when I could talk about my condition as a thing in the past. I began to get better, and when the Derksens brought me to the guesthouse for a couple days I really recovered and my head cleared up and I felt strong and healthy again. During that time a lady from Avant video-called me to see how I was, and she knew about heads and said it was stress doing weird things to my brain because of my previous concussion.
That afternoon, on Thursday, the Neufelds came, having not come the night before with more vehicle trouble. I was up in the tree when they arrived, and we were happily reunited, and went out for a late lunch at Papa John's. In the evening we went out again to the dentist and then for ice cream. I got a Dulce de Leche Sundae. Little did I know it was to be my last. That evening Rudy and Doreen informed me that Avant had decided I needed to go home, for several reasons. First, they didn't want me at Derksens' just then, and the Neufelds weren't going to be doing school because they had guests, so I was kind of out of a job. Second, they were very concerned about my mental illness and did not want it to happen again.
I was stunned. I didn't know what to think. It was like a nightmare come true, except this possibility had never even crossed my mind. I went upstairs to my room and cried for a while, and then called my Mom and cried for a while more. My parents were willing to talk to Avant and see if they could change something, but we knew the decision had been made, and I felt like God was sending me home. Doreen came up and sat by me while I cried and talked, and by the time I went to bed I felt okay with whatever happened (at that point I was still hoping it would change, somehow.) But in the morning I was resigned, and my Mom talked with the travel agent to change the tickets.
I went back to the Derksens' until Sunday, when we went to the plaza for some last souvenirs and for ice cream. In walking there we saw a guy with charcoal portraits set up on one of the granite benches, and Jake said his sign said he would do a likeness in 15 minutes. When we asked how much, he said 50 Bs. Well, that was a no brainer, so I sat down, and he sat crosslegged on the ground in front of me and glanced back and forth from my face to his canvas in a practiced manner, constantly telling me to keep smiling. A large crowd of Spanish people gathered, and I could see them looking back and forth from his paper to my face, comparing them.
He was done in half an hour, and I really like the result. You can see it up on the wall if you come over to our place.
We went to Copacabana for supper after that, and then to the guesthouse, where the Neufelds and their guests were, and I said some tough goodbyes to the Neufeld kids. I hadn't gotten to say goodbye to the Friesens because I didn't know I would never see them again when they left on that Sunday. Then the Derksens and Rudy and Doreen all came to the airport, and after a lot of standing in line, I had to say goodbye to the rest of everyone and to Bolivia entirely. It was just wrong to be leaving so soon. I felt like I had barely gotten started. But for some reason God wanted me to learn to take what came, and to be at home now.
The eight hour layover in Panama City was interesting because as takeoff got closer, more and more Canadians arrived at gate 32, and I found myself surrounded by people speaking English. It felt so odd to understand what strangers were saying. I only had an hour and forty five minutes in Toronto to go through customs and pick up my bags and check them again, but we were delayed on the tarmac before unloading, so I ended up missing my flight. They booked me in for eight the next morning, and I spent the night in the Toronto airport, just like when we flew down.
Finally, at ten thirty on Monday, October 15th, I was enveloped by some of my own family at the airport, and Sonnet just looked at me with a big grin on her face. I was back in Canada two months before I expected to be.
Now, a lot of you have subscribed to my blog to follow me in Bolivia, so I will not be offended at all if you choose to unsubscribe. If you would like to stay on, I'll post various pictures and articles occasionally, and you can unsubscribe any time. (There will be one more post with a highlight video.)
Thank you so much, all of you, for thinking of me and praying for me and encouraging me. This trip was a complete success, I believe, and it was largely because of all your prayers on my behalf. Come and talk to me so I can thank you in person, please.