Las Policias ... but not really...

So.... I had a bit of an adventure about a week ago, which was pretty scary but also makes for a good story...soo.... I´m going to relate that story here.



I had taken a taxi home, but given the driver poor instructions and ended up about 5 or 6 blocks from my house... not really a big deal - so I thought. The taxi driver seemed a bit concerned for me, but I didn´t understand what he was saying and I figured I´d be fine, so I got out of the taxi, crossed the street and began walking home.


I had my big backpack on since I´d just gotten back from a trip to Santiago with the other SALTers and IVEPer and I heard a lady call me. "Señorita! Señorita!" I thought that maybe my backpack was open, so I stopped.



(*side note: all this took place in Spanish... I shall relate it in English with a few Spanish words inserted here and there... please forgive me if my spelling is bad)



Thankfully my backpack wasn´t open, she just wanted to know the time. It was 4:38pm and still perfectly light out. After giving her the time I turned to walk away, but then she started asking me which micro she should take to go North. I told her that I couldn´t help her because I didn´t go that way, but she persisted in asking, telling me that she´d been looking all over for her micro. I apologized again and again tried to walk away. Just then a man walked up to us and said, "Excuse me ladies." and began to reach into his shirt pocket. I half rolled my eyes, expecting some sales pitch on a calling card or something, but instead he pulled out a laminated card that stated he was a Policia (Police officer) and asked to see our documentation. My heart skipped about two beats and I started to pray. "Dear God, please let me have my passport." I did. I remembered that Laura (the MCC Bolivia connecting peoples person and all-round cool person) had said if we were ever approached by "policia" and asked for documents, we could give them the copies of our passports, but we had every right to refuse to go anywhere with them. That proved to be a very helpful piece of advice. ... Especially since these people were not actually real police.


Anyway, I showed him my passport and he read out my name. I was hoping that once he saw I was Canadian and had a right to be in the country, he´d let me go. He didn´t. Instead he said, "I´m afraid you´re going to have to come with me."

All my eye-type fluid flushed into my ear canals and I decided to get angry... well, not really angry... just a little angry. I stuffed my stuff back into my backpack (they were nice enough to point out some of my clothes on the sidewalk), swung it onto my back and said ¨No puedo.¨(I can´t).

The man continued on about something to do with having to take foreigners to their office for questioning. "It´ll only be 5 minutes," he said. At about this time a taxi pulled up and asked "Do you need a taxi?" to the fake police. They said, "yes."(... since when do police use taxis?).

"Please get into the taxi," the man said. I shook my head again, "No puedo." (I seemed to have forgotten how to say anything but "I can´t" in Spanish). The other lady tried to reassure me, "It´s OK, I have to go, too... There´ll be two of us females. You´ll be fine." 'What?!' I thought, 'You´re going along with this??' I was pretty scared at this point because I didn´t understand what to do. I prayed, "Dear God, please keep me safe."

Again the man tried to convince me to get into the taxi..."It´ll only take 5 minutes." I again said "I can´t!" Then another man showed up. I thought he was coming to help me... coming to see what the commotion was about. Nope... he was a "policia" too. He showed me a card quickly. I tried to look at it, but he wouldn´t let me... instead he gave it to the other lady and said, "It´s hers." Oh dear, I thought, she´s one of them, too! I´m in trouble.

Again they tried to get me to get in the taxi, telling me it would only be 5 minutes. I figured I was going to have to think of something better than "no puedo" to get out of this, so I said "No puedo!" a little firmer.

Man #1 asked why not. My chance! "My family," I said guestering towards my house... I tried to get them to understand that I was expected somewhere... that my family would miss me (although I don´t think they cared too much about that).

"OK," they said, "just get in the taxi, it will take 5 minutes and then we´ll take you to your house."

Throughout this exchange I focussed my attention on man #1... not on purpose, automatically... I think that helped me not feel so overwhelmed. And, since there was absolutely no way under any circumstance for any period of time was I ever getting in that taxi, I told him - very strongly (Yay Heidi!) - "NO." I was quite proud of myself as I became more and more frustrated and more and more angry.

"OK," I said, "let me call my family, OK?"

"Sure," they said, "just get in the taxi. It´ll only take 5 min and you can call your family after."

"No," I said, "Before!"

"Before?" They seemed confused... maybe they were starting to lose confidence... "Why don´t you get in the taxi and we´ll take you to your family after."

I was tired of their constant, obvious lies and was getting frustrated at having to make all these arguments to let them know that I didn´t believe them and that they weren´t going to get their way.

"No," I said feeling somewhat in control of the situation (perhaps that feeling was false... turned out alright, though), "Before!"

"Fine," they said. "OK." They were letting me make a phone call? "There´s a phone booth down there. Two blocks. No more! Two blocks!"

Yes! Finally! I planned on calling my host family and not going anywhere until they came to get me. I was so close to tears at this point. I was scared at what they might try to do to me, but I was also pretty mad and proud of myself for sticking up for myself so well (even if it was with very few words).

I started walking away and I thought man #2 was coming with me, but he stopped. I walked 2 blocks and didn´t see the phone booth. God was looking out for me, though, because those two blocks took me straight to the road that leads to my house. I looked back to where the policia had stopped me and I couldn´t see them, so I turned down my road and started walking to my house. If they followed me and asked what I was doing, I´d say I was looking for the phone booth. I was scared that they were in each taxi that passed me. But, they never were and they didn´t follow me. I don´t know why they didn´t follow me. Maybe they realized that they weren´t going to get the better of me, or maybe they were scared I was going to call the police instead of my family, or... I don´t know. But, I do know that God was taking care of me. I got to my house safely and my whole host family was amazing at comforting me and making sure I was OK. I felt very much loved.

...and that´s my story... hasta luego!

Toilets flush counter-clockwise and Bug bites should not be itched

Well, seeing as how tomorrow marks the 1 month anniversary of arriving in Bolivia, I figured I should probably write another blog entry...

About 3 weeks ago I suddenly realized that everything I´d been told about toilets flushing the opposite way on the other side of the equator was undeniably true! It was a revolutionary moment... or not so much, but it was exciting to see first hand. My point with this comment? I don´t really have one... except that there are often times when I forget I´m in a different country and then something like toilets flushing backwards (or someone speaking to me in Spanish) jolts me back to the realization that I really have left North America. It´s kind of cool. I wonder if this is a good thing. Have I become so comfortable with Santa Cruz that it has started to become home? normal? Or, am I living in denial of the fact that I´m in Bolivia and need constant reminders to tell me I´m here? Hm... I don´t know. I know that I´m enjoying being here and that I´m enjoying making new friends and learning a new language and buying things for less money, and seeing God take care of me through a bunch of different circumstances. I think that´s good enough. If it´s not, I´m sure I´ll find that out soon enough.

If you haven´t heard the news yet, there´s quite the conflict going on in Bolivia right now. I won´t try to explain it very well because I don´t understand it very well. It´s got something to do with autonomy and taxes and a few other things. I can´t really say what started it (because I´m not quite sure), but the results are at least 10 deaths so far and a bunch of raiding and riots and violent demonstrations and the closure of markets early as well as the transit system. All these conflicts make the city a bit more dangerous, but it is still safe enough for me to walk around in the day. At night I´m at home and I try to get home before dark... which isn´t that hard to do. So, life goes on as usual, more or less. And, I don´t mean to paint a scary picture of Santa Cruz right now, it isn´t really that scary. It´s a great city and I´m still loving it.

Well, I´m going off to the Hipermaxi (department store?) with my host mom soon, so there´s one more important story I need to share...

About 2 weeks ago I was watching TV with my sister, when a mob of mosquitoes attacked my right foot. Well, not a mob, but I ended up with six large, incredibly itchy bites on my foot. That night I itched them really hard a few times to calm the itching and then I fell asleep. The next morning my foot had begun to swell. Uh oh... I was a little scared. The next day it was worse, so I showed my host dad and he didn´t seem concerned, so I felt better. I went to MCC and showed some people there and they seemed a lot more concerned. I was told to leave it for now, but if it got worse to see a doctor. I finally ended up talking with a lady who works at MCC who use to be a nurse. She thought that perhaps my itching had caused the bites to open up under the skin and I was bleeding under my skin. Hm... interesting. My foot didn´t hurt at all, it just felt rather large and stupid and was annoying to walk on since it felt inflated. I was told to elevate it when I was sitting or sleeping, so I did and it started to get better... slowly. I started feeling a lot better. Once the swelling was gone, it started hurting a bit... but it was concluded to be from the bruising. At this time, my foot is as good as new! Yay! and... that´s the story. I want to add a picture of my foot for you... we´ll see if it works.

The moral of this story: Don´t ever itch your bug bites unless you want them to look like a disfigured empanada!! ---->