Up to the Mountain...

Franz, me and María at Frutillar

The latest on the visa situation is that I will supposedly have my visa in 2 weeks. I met with my lawyer, and apparently all that is left is to submit my paperwork to immigration, which then means a 10 day review process. My plan, if I am indeed able to come home, is to fly home the first week in June, and to return sometime before the 9th of August, which is when I have to be back in Cochabamba for school in the fall. Thanks for your prayers, and I'll be sure to tell you when I have visa in hand!

me, Miguel, Humberto, Reynaldo, Mauricio,

Andreina, Ariel, Javier & Gabriel
some of the gang in my living room

Peace. It's something that has become a theme in my life here. I am thinking pretty seriously about staying here long term. I suppose it has always been in the back of my mind to stay, but the pieces are beginning to fall into place. In the last month, God has really confirmed several aspects of my life here, showing me how He is calling me to these people, how purposeful my life is here, and how much I truly feel at home here.

Rosalia and me

A week ago, I was walking in the cancha with my pastor, and she gave me the best compliment ever. She told me that she doesn't see me as an American, or even a foreigner. She told me that I just seem like another Bolivian friend, that I'm easy to talk to, and she often forgets that she's with a gringa. Last Monday, I was walking home with my guy friends from church, and they told me I was turning into a Bolivian, in the way I talk, the things I enjoy, and the way I act. They were thrilled that I was so much like them, even teasing me that all I was missing was a Bolivian man to stay forever. I'm not exactly sure why it thrilled me so much to have these friends affirm my assimilation into their culture, but I think it's because I long so much to be a part of them as people, to experience their lives on a deeper level, even though I know I will never really be able to live in true solidarity with them.

we made a wathiya

Friday was Labor Day in Bolivia, so we all had the day off. My church decided to spend the day in the mountains, fasting, praying, and focusing on community. 15 of us went up the mountain behind my house and spent most of the day in the forest. We worshiped together, both in Spanish and Quechua, broke into small groups to pray, especially for our neighborhood and country, did dramas on the importance of prayer, and then broke fast together with a traditional meal.

our traditional Quechua meal

Two of the Quechua ladies with us dug a hole in the ground and cooked our potatoes in an oven called a wathiya, basically hot rocks and earth, heated by coals. They dumped the cooked potatoes in the middle of the circle where we were sitting, and we each grabbed a potato with our hands, peeled it, and dipped it in a traditional spicy peanut sauce. It felt almost like a communal breaking of bread. We laughed, ate lots, and acted like a big family.

some of my closest friends from church

The most compelling part of my life here in Bolivia is my church family. I have never experienced the body of Christ on such a deep and holistic level. What a gift, what a treasure, what a JOY.

I leave you with some beautiful Quechua worship...

Kati

worshiping in Quechua