Getting to know La Paz

I have been teaching for two and a half weeks now. I am beginning to adjust to the city. Lucy and I have tested and located all our favorite coffee shops, and we are meeting a few people through couch surfing and other volunteers here with the methodist church.


There are a few things I can rely on these days...

- If I walk along El Prado after school lets out I will get hit by a water balloon chucked at me by a group of high school boys enjoying the pre-carnival frenzy that has overtaken the city.

- Most afternoons of the week there will be a traffic jam and the sound of gunshots that are really flare guns due to a massive protest by people who want jobs, better education, or perhaps a side of papas fritas free with their order of pollo at the local Copacabana chain. I´m not sure, I stopped paying attention.

-If I step outside and it is sunny and warm it will probably be hailing an hour later. If it is rainy and cold when I leave, it will definitely be sunny and hot an hour later. Locals like to complain that in La Paz you get all the seasons in a single day.
I have also learned to expect that my children, who range in ages from pre-k to third grade have been educated in an environment that demands very different expectations for discipline and order. This has taken some adjusting to, and the fact that I cannot fully communicate also adds to my frustrations. I am really lucky to have Luz as ,y teaching partner. She is very supportive and much more receptive to the teaching ideas I have than most teachers might be. We do alot of singing, which those of you who know me is not very enjoyable for those around me usually, but the kids don´t seem to mind. I spent all of last week teaching all the older kids a cheer about school supplies. Picture me waving my arms around and yelling,¨"small, yellow, square... NOTEBOOK!" I was a little horse by the end of the week. I am enjoying myself, but end each day exhausted and dreaming of the orginization of Two Rivers, my old school. My schedule and the orginization of the school can be frustratingly hectic and confusing at times.


I am also benefiting from my connections with the methodist church. Lucy and I need to extend our visa so we can travel after we are finished working. The school´s director assured us that he could have this arranged. Today Lucy and I were escorted by a police officer, in the puffy green coat that made his shoulders appear massive, and lace-up, black boots that go up to mid-shin to arrange for a one year work permit and ID. All in all he was pretty imposing leading us through the city and navigated through all the red tape at interpol. Three hours later the school´s lawyer had typed up a contract and the necessary paperwork and we had our applications in order. In ten days we should have a Bolivian ID good for a year, fingers crossed. This whole development came entirely out of the blue. 

One thing I cannot rely on is my accomodation at the hotel.  Our hotel reaches new levels of absurdity with each passing day. We are currently the only guests there. Our room has no hot water and is freezing which usually means I put off taking a shower a lot longer than I should. We have asked about hot water several times and have been told a variety of things - it takes a long time for the water to reach us because it is high up, if we wait just five more minutes it will start, and finally that someone was going to turn on the hot water... but the shower was still cold. Today however, we walked in to find several employees huddled in our bathrrom. When we came back there was a long black wire attached to nothing, and draped over our sink. There was also a chair in the center of the bathroom. When Lucy went down to ask about TP she was told they were installing a new shower... We´ll see how long that takes. This is just one of the many odd things going on at our hotel. (The entire lobby is currently lying in pieces that we have to step around to make it to the stairs because they are cleaning.)

We also do alot of cooking in our room on an ubsurdely small burner we bought in the black market (the area of la paz where everything from lawn care to cholita skirts and pirated dvds are on sale). We have a teeny pot and pan and were cooking on the floor until we singed the rug so the operation has been moved to the bathroom. We sit and eat the meals we´ve concocted in a little window box in our room. It looks out onto a staircase where we watch people walking by on their way to work or school. There are always a few regulars, a small girl who sings for money at about ten, the Andian woman selling sticks of gum in the morning, and the shoe shiners who sleep beneath our window every night. This is enough to remind me that even if my shower was cold, and I am wearing five layers for warmth at night, things really aren´t so bad.