A Matias update

playing in the sandbox at our house

Matias is my favorite nephew.  Sure, he's also my only nephew, but he's also my favorite:)  My return to Bolivia has been good, and one of the biggest bright spots has been time spent with my nephew.

A week after I got back, Collin and I took Matias up the mountain a little ways to build a campfire and roast marshmallows.    He was both fascinated and afraid of the fire, asking for us to build it up, but then squealing and turning away once we did.  Overall, he had a good time listening to the night noises and looking at the moon and stars, but by the time we took a picture at the end, he was really ready to be done!

 For some reason, almost every time Matias comes into my room, he pulls my Bible off my desk and flips through it for a long time.  I think he likes the paper-thin pages, but sometimes it almost seems like he's studying each page.

One of Matias' favorite activities is to pour water slowly out onto the ground.  He was thrilled when we went to a friend's house and they had an elephant watering can.  "Ellie", as Matias calls elephants, kept him entertained for over an hour.

Another favorite activity is sweeping.  I'm personally thrilled about it, hoping that he takes after his Tia Katie and Nana, not his dad:)  He sometimes wanders around the house, pointing out all the dirty spots and making grunting noises.

Matias' favorite friends are still the neighbor kids, who usually come over every Sunday.  Liz, the oldest of the four, loves to read books with him, play with him, and help him eat or take a bath.  It's amazing how mature and grown up each of the neighbor kids are with him, even though they're all under 10.

On March 16th, Matias turned 2.  His mom, Brianna, made an amazing cake that look professionally done, and bought magic candles that relight.  Matias is very aware of fire safety and anytime he sees something burning, he always tries to blow it out.  The magic candles backfired, and instead of being excited about the opportunity to blow out the candles multiple times, he got more and more frustrated.  His high-pitched screams seemed to prove a point that the TERRIBLE TWOS have begun!

For the most part, Matias seemed oblivious to the party around him, happy to drive his car by himself on the floor, or in the cardboard maze in his room with his friend Mauricio.

When the piñata was broken open and all his peers and their parents scrambled for the candy and toys on the ground, Matias was more than happy to pick up all the pieces of shiny paper and put them on his head.  Someone handed him a piece of candy, and he popped it in his mouth, paper and all, and went back to collecting shiny pieces of paper.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MATIAS!

Two are better than one (Ecc 4:9a)

One of the richest pieces of coming home has been time with family and friends.  I've been buoyed up and supported by so many dear, dear friends.  These are pictures of only a few of those who have deeply touched me.  I am so grateful.

Jessica is a good friend from high school and has been my personal cheerleader while I've been overseas.  She even organized a party with some of my friends for me while I've been home, which was one of those rare bright spots in the darkness.  I'm SO grateful for her.

Laura and her fiancé Troy came over to share lunch with us.  I've known Laura since I was a little kid, running around at church, going camping, and sharing so many rich memories.  It was amazing to pick right up where we left off 3 and a half years ago, and fun to meet her fiancé.  I've been so blessed by relationships that have spanned decades.

Another decade long friendship is Emily, my kindred spirit and one of my dearest, truest friends from college.  She came to Colorado for Christmas, and a brief visit before returning to her home in Jordan.  It was too short, but we got to snowshoe, reminisce, drink hot chocolate and people watch, making up stories and names for the people who walked past the cafe window:)

I even got to meet her now fiancé, Andrew, and am already plotting how I can possibly save enough money to fly from Bolivia to Ireland in a year to participate in her wedding...  Flights from Bolivia to Shannon, Ireland are hardly a common flight path!  It's made me so happy to meet my friends' fiancés and husbands, especially to see how good they are for each other.

Another incredible gift was my time with old friends from Bolivia, from almost 6 years ago!  Matt and Elsa (middle back and middle front), Jen (brown sweater) and Katie (behind me on right) were all with me in Bolivia while I was an intern.  I lived with Jen and Katie, and got to stay with both of them during my time in Chicago.  We got the whole gang together, plus new husbands Baruch (Jen) and Dan (Katie), for a meal and I can't remember the last time my stomach hurt so much from laughing.  A rich, rich time.  Each of them were so encouraging and came alongside me in my struggles.

Just this last weekend, I was able to get out in the woods with my oldest and newest friends.  Bonnie (left) and I have known each other since pre-school, and she now lives just down the street from my parents with her son Nico and husband Arsene.  Maria (middle) is my newest friend, someone I've really enjoyed getting to know during my 3 months home in the States.  We snowshoed up Capitol creek to a stunning vista, and I had fun driving through the snow on a 4-wheel drive road:)

A Heart Divided: the tension of 2 homes

This is the longest I've been away from Bolivia in the 5 and a half years I've lived there.  And this was the hardest it's ever been to come home to the States.  Not because I didn't want to be here.  I do!  But this time I left behind so much more...

I miss the incredible outdoors in the Andes and the exotic new places to explore.  The strange, new plants and trees to discover, the wild fruit and flowers to gather and the thrill of soaking in a place I didn't grow up in.  The water isn't clearer, the sky isn't bluer, and the grass isn't really greener, but there's still something intangible and alluring.

I miss my partner in adventures, and his motorcycle that takes us to the places we want to explore.  I miss coming home at night and being able to process and unwind with Collin.  I miss his crazy goofiness and his passion for life that inspires me to be a better version of myself, to get out in the world and try new things.  I just miss him.

When I'm in Bolivia, I miss my parents.  They're my other partners in adventure.  We hike and bike, go on runs, x-country ski, have campfires in the back yard and play bananagrams at night.  I didn't grow up in the Latin culture where children and parents stay close through their adult lives, but boy does it make sense to me now.

I miss Saturday afternoons and Sunday mornings with my vecinitos (little neighbor kids).  I think I even miss them ringing my bell 2 or 3 times a day, yelling "¡KAA-TIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" when I don't come to the door right away.  I miss Jhonny's heartbreaking smile when he's looking for approval or love.  I miss Liz's energy and excitement as she helps me wash dishes or make food.  I hope I get to see them a lot when I go back.  There's a part of me that's so afraid that something will happen to them while I'm away, or that they'll stop making the several kilometer walk to visit me a couple times a week, now that they live far away.

But in Bolivia, I miss my close, deep, rich friendships.  Friendships like Tia and Bonnie who've known me since elementary school and pre-school.  Or friends like Jessica who has given me unconditional friendship since high school.  There's nothing like friends who have known you for decades, who you can pick right back up with as though years hadn't gone by since the last time you saw each other.  Friends to run and hike with, friends to stay up late talking with or go thrift store shopping with, or just share lunch.  I am SO grateful for my time here to soak up those relationships and fill my tank back up.

I REALLY miss my boyfriend Humberto.  I sure wish it was easier to talk to Bolivia from the States and vice versa!  I miss connecting with him every day.  I miss the way he makes me laugh, his smiles, and the way he screws up his face when he makes a joke.  I miss making dinner with his sisters and staying up late with them, feeling a part of the family.  I miss playing music with him, leading worship with him, listening to new songs with him.  I know distance is supposed to be good and healthy for a relationship.  Right now, it just feels plain hard.

I miss watching Collin and Matias take nap time together.  What I really miss is scooping up Matias in my arms and holding him close, feeling him gently stroke my arm and finger my hair.  I miss his squeals of delight when I tickle him or chase him around the apartment.  I miss his toothy smiles and bath time splashes.  I miss his the way he finds me with a book in hand, asking to read, and the soft coos he makes when he sees birds.  I miss his insistent "buh?" noises when he asks if a bus is going to drive past our apartment and makes the sign for more when one finally does.  I never realized how deep my love runs for Matias until I left and he left a big, Matias-size hole in my heart.  I have dreams about arriving back in Bolivia and scooping him up in my arms again.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to let him go again when I see him again in real life.

Matias as a Jack-o-lantern

I'm not super into Halloween.  But I've always loved traditions and the familiar rhythm of doing something I've done since I was a kid.  Carving Matias' face into our pumpkin this year seemed like a good way to feel just a little closer to him.  When I'm in Bolivia, carving a watermelon (the closest thing to the size of a pumpkin) just doesn't seem to cut it.  Roasted, salted watermelon seeds don't even come close to the yummy pumpkin seeds my mom made this year.

I miss my third grade kiddos.  A lot.  I miss their constant hugs, their unconditional love, the way they delight me with their perspective on the world and their mischievous smiles.  I miss teaching.  I miss reading books during snack in our reading corner and opening up a whole new world of imagination and make believe for my kids.  I hope all my kids return to The Center next year.

I miss sunsets on my balcony over Cochabamba.  Enough said.

When I'm in Bolivia, I desperately miss snow.  It's not the same to drive up into the mountains and see where it's collected, hard and crusty on the Andes.  I love to run in it, taste it, smell it.  I love to sit on my bed and watch it fall outside, or walk out my front door and enjoy in the contrast of harvest red rosehips on soft snow.

And when I'm in Bolivia, I miss the homegrown apples off our apple tree.  And the homemade applesauce, apple tart, apple pie.......  Imported apples from Chile that we get in Bolivia just aren't the same as the sweet tang of a rosy Macintosh apple straight from the tree.

Matias!

family photo at Plaza Colón

My nephew Matias is one of the brightest spots in my life.  I just can't help but share that bright spot with everyone!

making sounds for the pictures Humberto drew

hiking at Q'omerqhocha

Liz, one of the neighbor kids, took this picture

not so excited about breakfast

Laundry time on the terraza

reading about cars and trucks and things that go

bathtime with rubber ducky!

I don't have anything profound to write about my recent hike on the edge of the Andean-jungle border.  Nothing amazing happened on the backpack, and I didn't come to any deep realizations.  But I did get to see some amazing country on the drive there, and the vegetation in the jungle was pretty spectacular.  Here are some snippets of beauty we saw:

Snow on the ride in!! It was mostly hardened and crusty, but it was still SNOW!!

There were 20 of us, not my ideal of a great backpack size, but it turned out to me not quite as bad as I thought.  In a group of random 20 people, mainly Latin Americans, there was a young woman, Nanette, who happened to be living in Colorado and is from Spokane (where I went to college).  Her family lives a couple blocks from my aunt, uncle and cousins!  Small world.

We saw a fair amount of loq'osti, or wild tumbo, that Humberto and I have harvested before.  It was fun to be able to identify plants in Bolivia for the rest of the group!

Collin, Julie and I shared a tent, camped right in the middle of the old road we used as a trail.  The road is more than a half century old, and built so well that miles and miles of it have stayed passable after decades of little or no use.  It was only when we began the descent into the jungle that landslides had made the road impassable for cars.

The moss we camped on, which grew in the road almost the whole hike, was so soft it felt like carpet.  In Bolivia, this type of moss is also called "Nacimiento de Jesús", or "Birth of Jesus" because it's harvested and sold in cities around Christmas time for decorations and making Nativity scenes.  We took our shoes off, and I backpacked barefoot for the first time, enjoying the spongy softness beneath my feet.

Gratitude

It feels slightly cliche to write about being grateful for the little things, or to write about gratitude in general.  But the last couple of days, I've felt incredibly grateful.  Writing about that gratitude somehow makes it more concrete, more real, and I hope will serve as a sort of ebeneezer that I can look back on when the opposite occurs and the little things in life drag me down and nip at me with frustration, darkness and hopelessness.

I'm grateful for my nephew, Matias, and for the grace of every moment spent with him.  He's one of life's biggest gifts to me.  His giggles and 4 teeth smiles fill me up inside.

I'm grateful for Humberto.  His grace and patience with me has taken me by surprise.  I'm grateful for someone who knows me, who fights to know me, and who doesn't give up when the going gets rough.








I'm grateful for grace and hope.  Both of which have played a significant role in the restoration of a friendship I had given up for lost.  I can't give thanks enough for His perseverance, even when we've given up.

I'm grateful for Manuel's smile.  He was in my class last year and only recently came back to The Center.  Something has softened in him, and it's beautiful to see the hard edges melt away into his beautiful, toothy smile.

I'm grateful for the neighbor kids, especially Jhonny (3) who always greets me yelling "KATI!!!" at the top of his lungs and pumping his little arms as he barrels towards me at top speed.  He's a little sponge, imitating everything around him, like the dance moves Collin makes:)

But mostly, I'm just grateful for Him.  Grateful for the saving grace I've found in Him and the life He fills me with every day.  Grateful for an anchor when I feel tossed about and grateful for a solid Rock to stand on.  HE is the root of all my gratitude.

"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.  His love endures forever."  

Psalm 136:1