Bolivia vs. Mexico: A Visual Comparison

Copacabana, Lake Titicaca Bolivia vs. Mexico City.
They both have amazing history and character. I have so many steeple pictures it's hard to chose.
But these two have the same sky!

Young girls in both countries doing dances of their history with
bright colored beautiful dresses.

 

 

It's strange how similar these two entryways are. The top photo is my personal favorite.

Doors! Oh the beautiful doors! The one on the right is my chosen winner. But both countries have such unique styles.

Women use whatever skills they have to make money.
A lot of the time it means making hats or sweaters to sell.

Morning flowers bright and fare, make me stop from rising the stair.
Make me focus my camera and sigh a breath, for the beauty in these flowers goes beyond trouble or wealth.
It's worth it to stop for a shot like this, to search for the small and intricate bliss.

Outdoor markets with red tarps. The markets are fun and it's
private business so I really like supporting them.
Sometimes you get a deal, mostly on fresh fruits and veggies.

Mount Ilimani in Lapaz vs. Smoggy McSmoggerson in Mexico City.
Smog ruins everything. Only white top mountain and there's smog messin up my shot.
Bolivia definately wins this one! I have a special place in my heart for that mountain that
I woke up to every morning out my window in Lapaz.

 

Dangerous and ghetto fair rides. See previous blog post.

Beautiful historic buildings.
Government building in Lapaz vs. Palace Museum of the Arts building in
Centro Historico Mexico City. Mexico wins this one for me.

 

My girl playing in front of beautiful churches with all of their character and charm. Lucky girl she is.

Temples. OLD temples. Bolivia's Tiahuanaco pre-Incan ruins vs. Teotihuacan
 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Teotihuacan

Wall art expressing their love for their country and the struggles from their history.

 

Volkswagen beatles. They sure do take nice pictures don't they?

 

Casa Hogar: A Place For Girls



 

Here I tried to have them sit for a picture. This was my first day.

This particular Tuesday as I was walking to volunteer I decided to walk down the street where I live and walk through the Tuesday outdoor market. There are vegetables and fruit for sale a bit cheaper than in the grocery stores. I bought my girls a bunch of bananas. See, I found out early on that two year old girls don't care if I spent time working on a scheduled lesson or planned a game to go with that lesson, they were going to make their own way to play...until I learned to bring food for them. They sit and listen to a story much better if their mouths and fists are full of cookies. After I bought my fruit for them, which some weeks are little cookies or crackers, I walked down the cobblestone street to the hogar. An hogar (pronounced oh-gar) from what I understand is a place for care of children who's parents cannot afford for them to be home. While the parents work during the week they send their babies to an hogar to care for them and get them to school instead of leaving them home alone or bringing them to work with them. This one is a girl's home. When Doug volunteered in Argentina, he worked with a boy's home. My girls here stay all week. The boys in Santiago Del Estero where Doug volunteered were not allowed to leave. These girls then go home on the weekends to their families. I have 3-5 little ones. Ranging from 2-4 years old. When we first moved here my intent was to volunteer at an orphanage so I could hold babies and be more of a nurse type volunteer. Never did I think I would be an English teacher. We walked to an orphanage in Coyoacan and asked if they would take me as a volunteer but they said if I was staying less than a year they would not accept me. They wanted continuity with their very young orphans. And I respected that. They pointed us in the direction of a Catholic church where across the street there was an hogar. They said it was an orphanage. But I later found it not to be so. I was disappointed at first but then I quickly realized that these little ones needed just as much love, and I had love to give. We knocked on the tall clunky orange door with an over sized knocker. A nun came to the door and we asked for information about volunteering. She invited us in and walked through the vaulted ceiling entry way to the courtyard and into a room to get a woman named Sofia. Sofia came walking to us, still standing at the entrance and I then asked the questions (in Spanish) that Doug and I had been practicing for blocks. I told her that I wanted something to do while my daughter was in school between 8 and 2:30 and wondered if they would allow me to volunteer. She said that the problem was that most of their girls were in school at that time. But she had 3-5 two year olds that could use some caring for. Sofia said, "Do you speak English? We need an English teacher for the littlest ones, can you do that?" I replied, "Yes, of course." She then questioned, "Where are you from?" When I told her, "From the United States." She hmmm-ed, "That's good enough." Ha! Apparently England was her first choice. Lol. She asked for a copy of my passport and a reference letter from someone. Luckily a coworker of Doug said she'd write one for me. And it was very thoughtful and kind of her to do so. Even though when I brought my 'credentials' with me to give to Sofia she didn't even look at them, just asked what days I'd like to come. YAY! So I started the next Monday and when I got there all of the girls had the day off of school or something because it was a see of black haired beauties all interested in the light haired giant woman who was there. Sofia called the littles over and they all respectfully came and kissed me one by one on my cheek. I was their Maestra (teacher), that's how I was introduced and that's how they were (AT TWO!) expected to honor and respect me! Wow. I fell in love with them all but in particular (as I've written in the past) with Lupita. She is feisty and naughty. She requires a lot of attention and love. But she does it in a way that draws me to her. Sofia gave us a table in the courtyard and I tried to talk with just the littles but the big girls were too excited to leave us to it so they chose this opportunity to share how much English they knew. They also asked me a million questions in Spanish that sometimes I couldn't understand. They just talked so fast. I got through a book and an a game. But my wonderful color coded, perfectly organized plan for the day was just thrown out the window and then we played and ran and giggled. Now, I show up a couple times a week, chose an overview of a lesson plan and we play. I've spoken a ton of Spanish with them and they actually understand me. I teach them to wash their hands and be nice to each other. On Tuesday Nati kicked Fernanda in the chin uppercut style and I made them sit there while pantomiming why kicking is bad (because I didn't know it in spanish) and after a couple of minutes Nati apologized. :) They are my girls. It's fun, it's exhausting but it's a great out for me and taking care of 3 crazy two year olds just might be training me for adoption. I may end up with a baby or 2 kids. So I'm just happy to have the opportunity to make these girls feel loved and give them some much needed attention.


This was last week. With my regular 3. They laugh so hard at me! :)

I would ask for prayer as all of my littles have severe colds

or infections and they are still struggling with nits/lice.

They seem to have new infections each week and even though

they are happy and fun while I'm there they are so sick.

 I think this is why I keep getting sick.

So please pray that they can get better. 







Senses of Coyoacan

The Five Senses of Our Village

Touch
     Metro and bus handles are the worst! We touch them every day. if you read my previous post about the metro system then you know sometimes you hold on really tight. You don't often see anything dirty or feel a foreign stickiness but the germs you can't see are the grossest ones right!? We have been sick on and off for the last three weeks but I think it's more from the hogar that I visit. The little people there are full of snot and coughs. As I write this MY little person is coughing up a lung. We are feeling that the colds have left me and Doug, but it's holding onto poor Sally.
     Our feet feel quite a bit as we walk. We walk everywhere. They feel the unevenness of the sidewalks as we climb over the giant tree roots that have lifted the sidewalk concrete right off of their foundations and left a sea of sharp ups and downs in our path. We hop over animal droppings and instruct sally to watch out! Some harder things to pass; we step around sleeping homeless people or walk past the poor who beg for money as they hold their tiny dirty children.
     We cross traffic as if we are having a psychopathic manic moment, "stop, go, walk, RUN here comes a taxi!" they have little care for pedestrians. We feel the cheeks of the people we are introduced to as we air kiss their right side. I get to hug the 2 year old girls that I teach English phrases to at the hogar that I visit three times a week. They are in the in-between baby chubs and skinny toddler stage so they are beautifully squishable. They also often wear layered clothing as the breeze is chilly and the sun is hot, and like I said before they are still all sick (and have been, now that I think about it, since I started to volunteer in the first week in October) so they dress a little heavier. I have been trying to teach hand hygiene to them so they get better. Speaking of a germ fest the hogar is so dirty! I've asked if I could scrub the counters or toilets but they say "no, we have someone who does that." As I think to myself, what do they actually clean? Ok, now that you're thinking about germs...lets talk about taste. Sorry.

Taste
     One of our guilty pleasures here are mini gorditas that are sold under an orange tarp on the side of the busy street near us. They are stuffed with a crumbly cheese, cilantro, green or red salsa, onions and the ingredient of your choice between black bean, potatoes or chicharone. Chicharone is shredded pork, salty and full of flavor. We usually get the pork. The cost $6 pesos each. We stand in front of their little portable fry kitchen and watch them roll the dough by taking a small amount from a bucket and flattening into a two inch pancake and they throw it into the oil. Once it's fried they cut it open from the top to make a pocket and fill it to your liking. Typing that sentence took longer than it takes them to stuff it. They are so so fast. They have salsa you can put on top or an onion mixture too. It's such a nice little snack, or if we stayed long enough we could keep eating and make a meal out of it. Once they see your plate is empty they ask you, "what else?". They also serve bottled drinks with a straw. I don't like to use the straw because it looks like they reuse them after washing them. Blukkk.
     There is a taste that I will never understand or get accustomed to...hotdogs. These people love salchichas (hotdogs). At the deli section instead of an array of cheeses or cold salads they have 50 different brands of pale pink floppy hotdogs. It's so disgusting. We have however, bought Johnson's all beef hotdogs, which are a nice taste of home.
     There are a lot of kiosks ranging from fried pig skins to sweet churros (a doughnut tasting tube that they fill with different flavors ie: Nutella, jelly, or sweet cream). One of the more interesting carts is the fresh fruit ones, but it's not just yummy fruit, oh no, they will saturate your big clear cup of sweetness with chili powder. Chili powder. Or hot sauce and lime. Strange. We did try the jicama with sugar and chili yesterday in Puebla but it was too weird for metro get it. We just bought the mixed fruit. Delicious by the way. Cantaloupe, papaya, watermelon and pineapple. So sweet.
We have an abundance of tortillas in Mexico. We choose to buy ours from the grocery store and the flour ones taste so much better than the healthy corn counterpart. And the corn fall apart so you have to use more for your taco. They do make yummy chips though. Which takes us to sound.

Sound
     We live on a one way street and if we walk up the street we pass a small tortilla maker that squeaks so loud. I'm not sure if it's a business scheme in addition to their very small sign or if they just can't afford some WD40. Lol. She puts the corn tortillas in a ball on the turning belt and the squeaker machine flattens the dough and lightly cooks it. We didn't particularly like her recipe but we did buy half a kilo once, for like .50 cents. Cheapola.
Just two houses down on the corner there is the unmistaken sound of roosters. Very verbal roosters. They never got the memo about cock-a-doodle-doing at sunrise. These guys are like chihuahuas that freak out every time they hear someone walk by. Problem is they are on a very busy foot traffic road. So they make noise a lot.
     A few times a week we also have the pleasure of listening to two very loud recordings as they pass through our neighborhood. One is a tamale guy who rides his bike around with a huge metal pot on a trailer. He sets his handheld cd player on repeat attached to a megaphone. It is so annoying and monotone, yet recognizable for his repeat customers I suppose. "Rico tamales! Calientito tamales!" (Delicious tamales, warm tamales!) Most of the time he rides down our street at 10:00pm and we just can't muster up the courage to try or we are just not hungry. The other recording is a young girl's voice, also set on repeat and played from a megaphone strapped to the top of a rusty old Chevy truck. I can't repeat the recording because I absolutely cannot understand the recording. But it is loud! They are apparently asking to buy your old mattresses, radios, tvs or other appliances.
Another sound is our door bell, or buzzer. We have a small white button, like most houses in our city, that visitors can buzz for us to come open the door. The water company uses it and when Doug doesn't have keys he buzzes it. It is not a nice sound when I'm still sound asleep at noon. What?! I don't have a job, can't a girl just rest whilst living in Mexico? Ahhh. What a life I have.

Smell
     The roosters also give off an aroma of a small chicken farm. Sometimes I think they butcher them right in their driveway and let them poop all over their courtyard from the way their home smells. I'm happy we don't live next door. . We close our doors and windows at night for safety and sometimes when we open the door to take Sally to school in the mornings we have a whiff of a Cow pasture. I have to investigate this more. I don't know why it's like this. Maybe it corresponds with garbage days or something. Oh, now garbage trucks and garbagemen that is a sight.
     On a more pleasant note, as you can imagine living in Mexico with all of the tacos and the cilantro and salsas it smells amazing as you stroll down the street. The aroma of fresh baked bread and doughnuts in the morning overflowing out of the many bakeries. When we walk to town or to get sally from school we pass a tortas (a warm sandwich) restaurant. They cook near the the front door behind a large window so as we walk by we not only smell the grilled vegetables and meats fills the air but we can see the juiciness of the cheese covered, avocado filled sandwiches. Yum, now I want to walk down and get one.

Sight
     When you walk the streets of Coyoacan you can see a guy pushing a barrel on wheels and it is full of garbage. At first I thought he was homeless but I've now seen many of these guys around. This guy near our house in particular collects the small plastic bags from outside of the houses one by one. If they look promising he opens them and sorts them according to plastic, glass, true 'garbage', or keep-able items. There are many large black garbage bags hanging from the barrel on wheels and this is where the items are sorted and thrown. Then after it's full he has to PUSH this heavy barrel of trash to the respectable trash dump sights. It is a messy and heavy job. There are real garbage trucks that stop by once a week and there are guys hanging off of the back or sitting in the back of the truck. They are dirty and wet. They hoot and holler at women as they drive or walk by. When they are collecting the trash they also sift through the trash and will collect things like recyclables or stuffed animals in one case. The whole front of this one truck had a sea of stuffed toys attached to the top, similar to the truck in Toy Story 3 only it's on top and not the grill. Lol. We pay $10 pesos for each trash pick up whether it's the independent guys or the city truck. So maybe all that pushing is worth it for those who collect alone because they get to keep most of the payment for themselves.
     Another thing that I've loved to see are small business everywhere. Houses and entry ways are transformed into beauty salons, jello stores, bird house sales, convenient stores, public restrooms, restaurants, dry cleaners, croche shops etc. the list is endless. They really take pride in their work and their location. They keep their stations clean, their entry ways pleasing and their food stations spick and span. I love seeing them work so hard for small businesses. Like the ladies who came up to us selling sparkly gemmed hair clips yesterday in Puebla. Their basket of shiny beautiful clips was their job. They, unlike some vendors, weren't going to sit in a stationary store and wait for the customers to come to them, they were going to interrupt our cookies and iced tea at the park side cafe to see if it would be something we'd buy. Which we did. A little pink peacock clip for Sally. I don't mind the interruptions if it's something pretty. There is only so many times you can say a polite 'no' to the painted wooden fruit picks or the lady with the fried lime flavored grasshoppers or the little toys or pens or gum. Oh my goodness, everyone tries to sell you gum. Lol.
     As you've probably seen is the aray of colors that the city is. The houses and the flower pots and the restaurants all have a way of expressing themselves through color. Bright blues and pinks, colors that Americans would cringe at, I remember we tried to paint the base of our house in Cambrige this electric blue and when we got it on the house it was like WHOA! But our honest neighbor politely said, 'you aren't going to keep that color are you?'. Haha. Aparently it was even brighter from across the street. But here, it is completely exceptable to paint your house three electric colors or just one and have beautiful bright colored flowers climbing up your wall to accent your home. I love it. It's one of the things that I love to photograph.

We live in a colorful, lively city. There are always surprises and plenty of reasons to be happy with the life I have. And occasionally I am blessed with extra money to give to these sweet people on the side of the cracked sidewalk with their sleeping babies laying in their laps. We will never be short of stories or experiences here.