Friends,
The pace of training continues to approach the speed of light.
How much can one possibly teach a human being in three months? Well, start with developing a understanding of Spanish and the intricacies of Bolivian culture (e.g. how to navigate the labyrinth of Bolivian public transportation without getting robbed or lost); then there´s compost making, pest and disease management, vermiculture (worm farming), apiculture (beekeeping), and product transformation (marmelades, peanut butter, dehydrated fruit and meat, yogurt and cheese); finally, there´s the enigma of effective development work (e.g. presenting formal presentations to a Bolivian audience, operating a community bank, conducting a ¨participatory diagnostic analysis¨ and forming a project proposal). You might say it´s the hippie equivalent of boot camp. And yes, I´m loving it.
In our agriculture group, we formed sub-groups of three to form mini-enterprises. Our group decided to make cheese -- which, of course, we had absolutely no idea how to do. So we received a loan of 90 Bolivianos to buy supplies and basically winged it (we did have a one-page summary of the cheese-making process). To our surprise and delight, the cheese turned out great! It had a perfect consistency, color and texture (admittedly, however, it could have used a bit more salt). We packaged our cheese rounds in plastic wrap and printed labels. The best part of the business was the name: In Spanish, ¨Peace Corps¨is Cuerpo de Paz; thus, we dubbed our product Queso de Paz (i.e., Peace Cheese. It´s funnier in Spanish). And, would you believe it, we actually made a profit... of just over a dollar.
We are about halfway through this training thing, and I am feeling pretty comfortable here. My host family and I are getting along really well. It´s still easiest to talk to my youngest brother, who´s just 11, because he speaks clearly and uses pretty simple language. We have gotten pretty close -- the other day we played soccer one-on-one. The 11 year-old won, 6-5. Yes, I was trying my hardest. But in fairness to myself, I was wearing Chaco´s, no match for his spikes. And he´s a Bolivian, he has been playing soccer all his life -- even his name, Ronaldo (Ronaldiño for short, like the Brazilian superstar) screams soccer skills. But then, I do have about 18 inches on him. He´s a really funny kid... when he´s angry, he screams ¨Shrek!¨ Apparently he thinks it´s a bad word in English. He tells me a former volunteer taught him that mala palablra: Los Omonte have had a dozen or more trainees in their home over the years, all of whom Ronaldiño refers to as ¨mis gringos¨(my white boys), as if we were pets or shoes or something. I get a kick out of it.
There are many moments of cultural miscommunication, and most often I am the one who ends up looking ridiculous: One night, for example, my host mother came home with a few huge sacks of potatoes and rice, and went inside to ask for my help. She said, ¨ven, ven¨(come here) but was making a hand motion that in the USA means ¨go away!¨ Confused, I stood up, sat down, stood up again, and finally went outside to help her. When I explained the source of my confusion, namely the difference in hand gestures, she almost died laughing. That was like three weeks ago, and they still tell the story several times a week. Very funny. Silly white boy.
On Wednesday, the Agriculture group (there are fifteen of us; the other 16 trainees of B47 are in Environmental Education or Natural Resources) leaves Cochabamba to embark on ¨Tech Week¨: We will travel by bus to several departments of Bolivia, visiting volunteers´sites and honing our technical skills. The main focus is beekeeping, which interests me more and more as I learn about it. Bees are truly fascinating creatures, and you can make a killing selling honey with very low production costs. I hope to be involved in apiculture when I get to my site.
Speaking of sites, in about two weeks I should know for certain where I´ll be living for the next two years. There are fifteen possible sites for Agriculture, and they are all located in warm to tropical areas of Bolivia. Thank God! It doesn´t matter much to me where I am placed, although there are a couple of sites in which I am particularly interested; so long as I am working outside, in the campo rather than the bustling, smelly city, I will be a happy gringo.
Much love to all of you, friends and family. I miss you all and keep you always in my thoughts. Keep the faith.
...Corps.
Armando, my PCV role model. Unfortunately, I currently lack the testosterone to grow such an amazing beard.
As promised, a picture of me eating a queen bee larva. A week later, I am growing strange hairs on my back and craving honey. Weird. 
From this height I can almost see the U of L game...
Mountains, flowers. The usual.
PCT Brandon playing horsey with a Bolivian niña.
Me and my host-dad, Don Orlando. He´s holding a portrait of himself done by some guy whose house he painted in Spain. Apparently the guy was buena gente.
Honey harvesting in Villa.
