We’ve been here in La Paz for 6 weeks. It has been overwhelming and bewildering, and it feels like it is EXACTLY where we’re meant to be. I have so many thoughts I want to share. There are so many things that I have seen that I want to reflect upon and process. BUT…it seems most appropriate to share the most beautiful, the most amazing, the most charming, and, of course, the most delicious discoveries of our time here so far.
Saltenas. These are wonderful little pockets of spicy sauce, veggies, and sometimes meat contained in a sweet dough. For a newcomer, there is no real graceful way to eat these. They drip down your chin and get under your fingernails. You’ll likely give away what you had for lunch when you have these because there will be inevitable remnants on your shirt and possibly even pants. All humiliation endured for sporting red spots down your front is completely worth it if it means eating this amazing creation.
Mountains. They are brown, red, and green. They are jagged and rolling. They are everywhere. Bits of the city hide behind them and wind around them. And if the day is clear, you can see the tallest of them, Mt. Illimani, with its jagged peaks covered in snow against the bright blue sky. Just beautiful.
Taxis. Where do I begin? There is something very relaxing about being driven everywhere. You hop into a cozy car, gaze out the window, talk to your kids, and soon you have arrived at your destination. And, if you want a little excitement along the way, just watch your taxi driver drive. There are no words for the skill demonstrated by these men. We have made our way through striking crowds, over curbs, through alleys only inches wider than the car, and many, many traffic jams. All safely and without a single bead of sweat on our drivers’ forehead. Ahh…yes. Taxis.
Dogs. Everywhere dogs. Where has God brought me that I am SURROUNDED by dogs?? They follow you on walks, they take naps on the sidewalk. One even entered church to join us as we were singing this past Sunday. Anyone who knows my immense love for dogs will surely understand that this experience makes the saying, “a kid in a candy store” a reality for me. You just can’t touch the “candy”. Ever. No matter how cute and furry.
The women. The women I have met here are truly incredible. The women of La Paz are beautiful and strong and yet very humble. These women are insightful, gracious, and extremely warm. Women of all ages have shown me friendship, have been patient with my awful Spanish, have been eager to help me find furniture, purchase the right meat, and learn the taxi system. One woman in particular has helped our entire family navigate through the somewhat complex immigration process. A few years ago, she realized that it was difficult for foreigners to go through this process. So she altered her career to help those who need it. I have found this to be the general spirit of the women here: Strong, beautiful, tough, and compassionate.
Our volunteers. I have to mention our volunteers. What words do you use for a group of mostly college-age kids whose dreams are to alleviate poverty, change the world, and grab a milkshake or two along the way? They are fun, intelligent, soft-hearted, and motivated. They spend countless hours serving, playing, laughing, and praying. These are those who will change the world.
My Spanish Professor.
I hold immense respect for this man. He meets with Alex and me every day (at least for now) to teach us Spanish. Every time we grasp a new phrase or answer a question correctly, he genuinely praises us. His patience and kindness shine through, and he deeply cares for his family. Despite enduring unimaginable losses, he exudes a remarkable strength. Él es un hombre noble.
Our children’s school. When our kids came home after a week, they declared, “We still haven’t met a single mean person.” This school wasn’t our initial choice (a story for another post!), but it turned out to be a hidden gem. I cherish the tales of a child from France, a boy from India, another girl from America, and Bolivian children all sharing lunch, learning together. It warms my heart that they’re immersing themselves in traditional Bolivian dances, casually discussing global issues in the classroom, and buying treats from the nearby market stand. It’s precisely the kind of experience I had hoped for them.
The children. I’ve used the word “beautiful” frequently in this post, and yet, I struggle to find a more fitting term. The children here are wide-eyed and rosy-cheeked. I’ve encountered hungry children, neglected children, well-fed children, and loved children. Each one possesses a unique beauty; they radiate warmth and love. They flash you a grin and eagerly take your hand. I’m defenseless against their charm. I find myself unable to tear away, incapable of saying no (even when offered strange fruit from a nearby tree), and still praying for them long after I’ve left their presence. The children here are truly beautiful.
Diversity. This city is a tapestry of colorful skirts, bowler hats perched atop heads, business suits, and tattered clothing. There are busy businessmen, college students engaged in lively conversations, aging vendors selling their wares, street performers skillfully juggling, and babies securely strapped onto their mothers’ backs, rushing to their next destination. People of all backgrounds, ages, indigenous and local, move in every direction. Yet, amidst this diversity, there is a unique rhythm, and it is undeniably beautiful.
I’m certain there’s more I could write, but I’ll pause here for now. If your travels ever lead you to this city, I’m confident you’ll compile your own list. There’s so much to experience and savor!
Thin Air, High Hope 