Bolivian Water Balloons

Whooooosh. 

“That one was inches from my face!” I scream as I duck behind a nearby car.  I run for my life.  Yes.  Running.  Dodging.  Hiding behind cars.  Why am I acting in this way?  Well, every year around this time in Bolivia, there is the celebration called Carnaval that occurs in the days leading up to Ash Wednesday.  While many people in the States might ponder what they hope to give up for Lent, Bolvians ponder many ways to creatively soak people with water.  There are water gun drive-bys, catapults off of 6-story buildings, and 10 people with buckets hiding behind the nearest corner ready for their prey. 

This is not a costume.  It is protection for the Carnaval parade.

Being a “gringa” I am automatically a target in this madness. 

“Where do we go?  What’s the strategy?” I whisper to the other lone person hiding behind car metal.  I look to my left and see twenty people with buckets, balloons, and smirks.  Just as I begin to lose hope, a truck full of people/new targets drives around the street.  My diversion.  I thought my past experiences of Carnaval were intense.  They were nothing like this.  I sprint into a nearby restaurant completely out of breath – laughing, running from strangers, and battling the lack of oxygen in this city. 

Today, the remnants of thousands of water balloons cover the streets.  Throwing water at people or shooting foam all over someone’s face is no longer acceptable.  Today, instead of watching water balloons soar towards my person, I am listening to questions soar towards my ears.

 “You ready for the field tomorrow?” After being in Bolivia for about a month now, I will enter the field in less than 24 hours.  My friend asks, “Do you have a poncho, motorcycle helmet, and toilet paper?”

Sí, Sí, and definitely Sí.

Over the last month, I have translated office documents, worked with our IYCF (Infant and Young Child Feeding) Program within the Health Department, and brainstormed with our Communications Team.  My heart has been filled during devotions as our team (family) shares, worships, and prays.   I have listened to Children's Heart Project's beautiful testimonies about hearts that are physically and spiritually new.  I have managed to eat a spicy hot salteñas without crying.  I have started to navigate life in a big city even though I am directionally challenged.

Mother feeding her child after a Nutrition training program.

Daily, I am learning new things and answering new questions.

This afternoon's set of questions are all about Chuma.  “Are you nervous? Are you scared of rats?”  I chuckle and answer “Nervous? I’m excited I finally get to go to the field! And I laugh in the face of rats.  Last year, my roommates were these things called tarantulas and they were as big as my face.” 

But if I am truly honest, my emotions are exploding.  They are exploding almost as rapidly as those water balloons who liked to fly towards my face these last few days.  I am bubbling with a mix of nervousness and excitement.  I know there will be challenges, wonderful work, and lovely beauty.  I am ready to see what God is doing in the city of Chuma.  I am ready.  And this time, I don’t need hundreds water balloons.

-kc