This blog entry was written on Tuesday, November 28, 2006. Due to recent technical difficulties, it has not been published until today.
This morning as I was thanking God for the absolutely beautiful weather and the relaxing walk to my classes at the Language Institute, I remembered that I have not yet written on my blog about our Thanksgiving festivities we celebrated here in Bolivia last week.
Thanksgiving, or El Día de Acción de Gracias, was an absolutely remarkable day for the U.S. citizens here in Bolivia, despite the fact we had to go to class instead of sitting at home and watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in our pajamas. A while back, Natalie, Carrie (another student at the institute and 1996 Notre Dame graduate), and I had spoke about celebrating the holiday by having some type of pot-luck dinner with the 12 or so students from the U.S. This idea quickly developed into a pot-luck dinner for all of the students and professors at the institute, as well as a presentation for the entire Institute (in Spanish of course) about the history of the day, current status of indigenous nations today, and various examples on how the day is celebrated within the United States. Seeing that there are about 150 total people that would view the presentation and sample the food, we were certain that everyone would just get a small portion of the food and would not walk away from our pot-luck with full stomachs. Boy, were we wrong – two turkeys, two zapote pies (zapote is Bolivia’s version of a pumpkin), mashed potatoes and gravy, handmade stuffing, two fruit cobblers, sugar cookies, choclo on the cob (Bolivia’s corn - white and extremely large corn instead of the small and yellow we are used to), 3 green bean casseroles, and 2 apple pies (my contribution) later, we had so much food that we had enough for seconds if people wanted. All the food was absolutely delicious; it never dawned on me that for many of the Bolivians, eating such food would be a new and cultural experience. Because of this, and our willingness to share our culture, the staff at the Institute was extremely grateful; apparently, a celebration of the holiday had never been done by students before at the Institute in its 40 year history.
While I will always reminisce about the food, the presentation, and the great conversations I had with the other U.S. students about various family traditions or how our families cook certain foods (who knew there were so many different ways to cook stuffing??), this day will be always be remembered as the day that I learned what it truly means to give thanks. As I walked home with a full stomach, I thought about the family festivities that would be taking place at my Uncle’s house later on that day and the many changes or “firsts” that this day would bring to my family. It was my sister Melissa’s 18th birthday, but she would be celebrating it in Dallas playing soccer in a tournament. It was my niece Aubrey’s first Thanksgiving, but she would be with my sister Maegan and brother-in-law Derek in their home in Nebraska, celebrating the day with friends instead of making the long drive to Kansas City. It was the first holiday that my “unofficial step-dad” Tom and his family would celebrate a holiday without their mother. It was also the first time that my family would celebrate Thanksgiving at my Uncle’s house, instead of the 20-something year tradition of spending all holidays at my Grandparent’s house. I knew that the absence of people would be noticed and missed by my family, but they had so much to be thankful for. They are alive, healthy, have the means to travel to each other’s houses, and be able to afford to cook and eat amazing food in order to share in each other’s company. Is there anything more that my family would need in order to make this day more complete?
This thought spurred the question: What about my life? What am I thankful for? I had not yet thought about the answer to this question as I walked into my house and was greeted by my host mom Juana with a giant plate of food for lunch. I grumbled at the thought of eating more food, I simply could not eat another bite. Then I remembered three things: 1. I was taught, and my family is loving proof that, food equals love in Latin America. 2. I had told her that I didn’t expect us to get full from our celebration. And 3. It is an old and cliché saying, but there are people in this world who do not have food to eat, many of which I who are Bolivian and I had walked by on my home from the Institute. (This thought was reinforced later in the day by the news report that a woman in the campo had killed and burned alive her five children, all under the age of 8, because she did not have any money to buy food and her children were starving to death...how terrible, even orphanages to place the starving children in are not an option here as many are filled with workers who sexually molest and abuse the children). At this moment, I looked around the room. I have a Bolivian family who love me and take care of me. I have family back in the U.S. who love me and support me no matter what, think of me often, and send amazing notes of encouragement as I struggle through this South American adventure. I have friends who support me and who constantly keep me up on the celebrity gossip, also sending me amazing notes of encouragement. I have a group of people that I call a “community” who challenge my faith and who I can turn to not only for words of advice, but support in which I feel comfortable enough with to cry with in frustration of my experience and be goofy with all in the same conversation. I have a college education, I have God, and I have this amazing experience here in South America. And most importantly, I have a full stomach (haha, just kidding). Sure, there are a lot of “wants or needs” in my life (just ask my family – I sent them a whole list for Christmas/Birthday packages), but are any of these significant enough to make my life incomplete? I am tempted to say yes, in hopes that my family will take the hint and send me all the things I asked for, haha, but in all reality, the answer is no. My time here in Bolivia has been so amazing and has taught me what really matters in my life, what I can truly be thankful for. I have seen lives and talked to those who do not have what I have, who only dream of one day having running water in their house, send their kids to school with the proper school supplies, and be able to let their kids play outside without fear that the violence of Bolivia will affect their family next. This was the first Thanksgiving that I am just not stuffing my face full of food because I have nothing else planned for the day, but am truly enjoying all the wonderful things that I have in my life. Thank you to all who make my life so wonderful. Most of all, thank you to Bolivia; it is because of you that I will never celebrate this day the same again and, that regardless of the day, I will always have something to be grateful for.
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Written today, Dec. 1, 2006: Heard about the snow that the Midwest received last night, hope everyone is enjoying the winter wonderland and the kiddies are having fun with a few days off from school! Everything is going great here, enjoying absolutely beautiful weather as the seasons are changing from Spring to Summer here in Bolivia. Only 15 days until I leave Bolivia and only 4 days until my birthday :-)
Check here to read the awesome November 11 blog entry written by Chris, a volunteer who is spending a year living and working at an orphanage here in Bolivia (and someone that I have been hanging out a lot with lately). His list of sixteen aspects of Cochabamban life adequately portray many of the adventures I experience here in Bolivia on a daily basis.
On Christmas Eve, we started the festivities by looking great in our Christmas best and attending the 10pm Christmas Eve Mass celebrated in the Pocuro chapel. The mass was complete with a live renactment of the Christmas Story, a first for me, especially in spanish. After the mass, we enjoyed a delicious Christmas dinner (preparation a definite community effort) and ate under the grape arbor located in front of my house. 
The cool Chilean summer night, the grapes hanging above us, the beautiful table that Emily decorated, amazing food, and great company made for an incredible memory that will always stay with me. After the meal, we went inside and sang Christmas carols as Ryan played the guitar. It may sound corny, and in fact, it was; but, we sang and giggled like little kids. This continued as we exchanged our Secret Santa gifts soon thereafter. All in all, it was a perfect ending to a night that I thought would be spent depressed and wishing I was in the U.S. with my family. Sorry family...maybe next year. :-)
Many would end there, but being Holy Cross Asscociates and typical overacheivers, we woke up the next morning at 7:00am and headed to a camping resort in Los Manatiales in Panquehue. There we did the basic camping routine - swam (although the water was freezing cold), sat around a camp fire, cook, rested, made smores, and slept in tents. Despite my love and much 
experience in camping, I do have to say that the ground we slept on was hard, complete with many rocks embetted in the ground that we simply could not move or avoid when setting up our tent. Everyone woke up with back pains; in my experience, only those who are "older" experience back pains when sleeping on the ground. Could this mean that we are getting old? I am going to use the rocks for an excuse, at least for now.
