What a weekend! Saturday morning I got up early to do my laundry. I threw a load in the washer, and then filled the sink to do a second load. I had only rinsed one sock when the electricity went out. Without electricity, there is no way to pump the water up from the well. This happens occassionally and it comes back on before too long. But this time it didn't.
All day. No electricity. No water. In the afternoon, the older boys tied an old sheet to a bucket and started lowering that into the well so that they could clean up before church. I took by own bucket down for water to do the same. Half an hour before we left, the electricity came back on! I didn't get to finish my laundry until after the church service.
Sunday morning I woke up, confident that my clothes would be dry after spending the night out on the line. Then I looked out the window to discover it was raining!! Luckily I hadn't washed all of my church clothes, so I was okay for the morning. It rained all day, though, so my clothes are still wet. I am bringing them inside tonight, hoping to have something dry for tomorrow!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
My Boys Can Dance!
The boys have been begging me to come to their school today for their presentation. I went, and they were so impressive! In their physical education class, every grade learns different traditional dances. Then, they have a day of dances, each grade presenting what they have learned in full costume. Many of the dances are rooted in the indigenous worship of Pacha Mama, including a "Dance of the Devils" that one grade presented. Needless to say, we're not real hot on our boys participating in this, but the dance presentation is their final grade for the class. This year, our boys asked if they could choreograph their own dance and present that instead. They were given approval.
They picked a Christian song, and have been practicing every night since I have been here. I spent long hours walking with them around the market looking for the right "outfit" for the presentation. They even made masks. And the grandes and medianos mastered their breakdance.
This morning I went to their gym. Parents and costumed children everywhere. Basically the morning was chaos, with kids running everywhere, even through the middle of other dances. But things changed when our boys presented. The grandes took the stage. I watched as the crowd grew silent, then cheered and whistled. There was no running around, no interruptions. Just staring and then wild clapping! They rocked!!
In the afternoon, the medianos presented their dance. Same reaction from the crowd. I was actually sitting farther back and had to change my seat because so many people crowded in front of me to watch. Cheers and whistles! The grandes also presented a second time, and on the way home they proudly declared that they had been invited to present the dance at the colosium the next day. I guess that means they all passed :)
They picked a Christian song, and have been practicing every night since I have been here. I spent long hours walking with them around the market looking for the right "outfit" for the presentation. They even made masks. And the grandes and medianos mastered their breakdance.
This morning I went to their gym. Parents and costumed children everywhere. Basically the morning was chaos, with kids running everywhere, even through the middle of other dances. But things changed when our boys presented. The grandes took the stage. I watched as the crowd grew silent, then cheered and whistled. There was no running around, no interruptions. Just staring and then wild clapping! They rocked!!
In the afternoon, the medianos presented their dance. Same reaction from the crowd. I was actually sitting farther back and had to change my seat because so many people crowded in front of me to watch. Cheers and whistles! The grandes also presented a second time, and on the way home they proudly declared that they had been invited to present the dance at the colosium the next day. I guess that means they all passed :)
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Birthday!
Today is my birthday! It is the first time I have been able to be here in Bolivia for my birthday. Today is also Javier's birthday. He turns 12, I turn...more. I got up early this morning and headed to the church by public trufi. There is high speed internet there :) so I got some work done and bothered Sergio a little. I went back to the BLC around lunch time. In the afternoon, Sandra found me and asked me to help her with a project. But when we walked into the cafeteria, I found all of the staff and all of the boys clustered around one table. As the parted the way, I found a gigantic birthday cake!! It was so beautiful and I couldn't understand how they had gotten it there with our trufi still broken. The staff explained that the boys had cooked it. I was so impressed! It was delicious too!!
It was adorable to watch all of the little boys wait so patiently as everyone was handed a slice of the cake. No one touched it until everyone had some, and then Carlos prayed for me. Normally they eat so fast, I'm not really sure where all of the food goes. But the cake they ate slowly, savoring all 5 layers individually! The staff then gave me roses. So beautiful! I love flowers :)
For dinner, there was funnel cake. Apparently this is a normal meal here. My mom also called in the evening, and that really cheered me up. It was a good Bolivian birthday and I celebrated with some wonderful people.
It was adorable to watch all of the little boys wait so patiently as everyone was handed a slice of the cake. No one touched it until everyone had some, and then Carlos prayed for me. Normally they eat so fast, I'm not really sure where all of the food goes. But the cake they ate slowly, savoring all 5 layers individually! The staff then gave me roses. So beautiful! I love flowers :)
For dinner, there was funnel cake. Apparently this is a normal meal here. My mom also called in the evening, and that really cheered me up. It was a good Bolivian birthday and I celebrated with some wonderful people.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Provider
God won’t leave me alone. Seriously. He has been talking to me a lot this week, and it is only Tuesday!
I’ve been thinking about writing this blog for a couple of hours, and even through that He has been teaching me. Originally, I wanted to title this “Anna Hart: Blockade Runner, Trufi Killer.” It’s been an exciting morning.
Sergio called me early because I have the trufi (a van) and he wanted me to bring it to the church to pick up some new tile for the BLC. So off I went. Just past Quillacollo, I ran into a blockade. So I decided to go around it. Sometimes this can be very difficult. This time it wasn’t so bad. There was a steady flow of cars running around it, and I just followed them. I got to the church and was pretty proud of myself. Sergio told me I was a little more Bolivian, since I got around it by myself. I was even prouder.
Somewhere in the big book I lug around on Sundays, it says something about pride.
On the way home, there was no flow of traffic to follow. I did some turning around. Then I decided I would just go up the mountain for a while, then over, then back down, and hope I made it around. No, I don’t know any of the roads. With a quick prayer, I headed up. I got worried. I wandered around. Mountain roads don’t run in nice grid patterns. I turned around. Every once in a while, I would pass something familiar. I thanked God for that day in July when the LFC Team 2 just had to have more materials for their project and I had gone to town alone with Cristobal and there was a blockade but we decided to go around it and he had taken me far up the mountain and pointed out peculiar landmarks along the way. I figured I couldn’t be too lost when I spotted some of these places. Not that I could even tell you which direction I was trying to go anymore. I got worried again. I said another half prayer. Finally I came across a bus and a chicken truck. I decided to follow them. They had no business up in the mountains, so they must be trying to get around the blockade too. At this point I didn’t care if they were headed towards Cochabamba or Sipe Sipe. I just wanted out of the mountains. So I followed them.
After some time, I spotted a familiar road. Looming before me, was the beautiful main road. And I was on the side nearest the BLC! I was free and clear. And boy was I proud. I had passed another blockade, a much more complicated blockade, wandering the back mountain roads alone. Woo Hoo!!
And then the motor died.
In the middle of the road, the trufi died. I panicked. I tried to restart it. I prayed. I called Sergio. Just as he answered, the motor started back up. I hung up. I drove a block. And it died again.
In the middle of the road. Blocking two of the three lanes of traffic. A stream of other cars trying to get to the main road after passing the blockade furiously honking behind me. And the trufi would not start. There was a taxi parked on the side of the road and the driver and a man standing by his car were clearly watching me and discussing my ordeal as I desperately cranked the engine to no avail and called to the BLC for help with shaking hands. After what seemed an eternity, they approached my window. “It runs on gasoline?” they asked me (in Bolivia, cars run on diesel, gasoline, natural gas, or a mixture). “Yes,” I answered. They told me I was out of gas, but I assured them that I had filled the tank as I was leaving Cochabamba. They said no more, but their faces did not appear convinced. They offered to push me over to the side. I was so thankful!
I began making calls again, saved from the honking of horns. I talked to Mau, who was going to send the bus from the BLC to pick me and the supplies up. I talked to Juan Carlos, the mechanic from the church, who was going to send a tow truck out for the trufi. I was so thankful to God that this had happened in a place that I recognized and not up in the mountains where I was completely lost.
After an hour and a half sitting in the hot car alone and worried, I spotted a group I recognized. Sandra and three of the boys from the BLC were passing by. I had called Sandra too, so she was looking for me. They joined me in the hot car and chatted a while about the policeman who had approached me and asked me to move the car (I was parked directly under a no parking sign) and then apologized for confronting me after I explained that the motor was dead and I couldn’t move it. Moments later, I spotted the bus from the BLC. Tio Rodo was on the phone with the mechanic as he approached. As we loaded the supplies onto the bus, he offered to stay with the trufi until the mechanic arrived.
Two hours after my first call for help, I was in the bus and on my way home. It was true that my way had not been smooth or comfortable, but God had shown up to Provide for me in so many ways: the landmarks, the other blockade runners, the timing of the breakdown, the taxi driver and his friend, the welcome sight of friends, and the slew of people that came to my rescue. Even Sergio called me back to make sure I was okay!
My pride is gone and I have such gratitude for His provision. Thank you God, for breaking me down to teach me, and seeing me through. What was I reading before I left this morning? Isaiah 2:3, “...He will teach us His ways, so that we may walk in His paths…”
I’ve been thinking about writing this blog for a couple of hours, and even through that He has been teaching me. Originally, I wanted to title this “Anna Hart: Blockade Runner, Trufi Killer.” It’s been an exciting morning.
Sergio called me early because I have the trufi (a van) and he wanted me to bring it to the church to pick up some new tile for the BLC. So off I went. Just past Quillacollo, I ran into a blockade. So I decided to go around it. Sometimes this can be very difficult. This time it wasn’t so bad. There was a steady flow of cars running around it, and I just followed them. I got to the church and was pretty proud of myself. Sergio told me I was a little more Bolivian, since I got around it by myself. I was even prouder.
Somewhere in the big book I lug around on Sundays, it says something about pride.
On the way home, there was no flow of traffic to follow. I did some turning around. Then I decided I would just go up the mountain for a while, then over, then back down, and hope I made it around. No, I don’t know any of the roads. With a quick prayer, I headed up. I got worried. I wandered around. Mountain roads don’t run in nice grid patterns. I turned around. Every once in a while, I would pass something familiar. I thanked God for that day in July when the LFC Team 2 just had to have more materials for their project and I had gone to town alone with Cristobal and there was a blockade but we decided to go around it and he had taken me far up the mountain and pointed out peculiar landmarks along the way. I figured I couldn’t be too lost when I spotted some of these places. Not that I could even tell you which direction I was trying to go anymore. I got worried again. I said another half prayer. Finally I came across a bus and a chicken truck. I decided to follow them. They had no business up in the mountains, so they must be trying to get around the blockade too. At this point I didn’t care if they were headed towards Cochabamba or Sipe Sipe. I just wanted out of the mountains. So I followed them.
After some time, I spotted a familiar road. Looming before me, was the beautiful main road. And I was on the side nearest the BLC! I was free and clear. And boy was I proud. I had passed another blockade, a much more complicated blockade, wandering the back mountain roads alone. Woo Hoo!!
And then the motor died.
In the middle of the road, the trufi died. I panicked. I tried to restart it. I prayed. I called Sergio. Just as he answered, the motor started back up. I hung up. I drove a block. And it died again.
In the middle of the road. Blocking two of the three lanes of traffic. A stream of other cars trying to get to the main road after passing the blockade furiously honking behind me. And the trufi would not start. There was a taxi parked on the side of the road and the driver and a man standing by his car were clearly watching me and discussing my ordeal as I desperately cranked the engine to no avail and called to the BLC for help with shaking hands. After what seemed an eternity, they approached my window. “It runs on gasoline?” they asked me (in Bolivia, cars run on diesel, gasoline, natural gas, or a mixture). “Yes,” I answered. They told me I was out of gas, but I assured them that I had filled the tank as I was leaving Cochabamba. They said no more, but their faces did not appear convinced. They offered to push me over to the side. I was so thankful!
I began making calls again, saved from the honking of horns. I talked to Mau, who was going to send the bus from the BLC to pick me and the supplies up. I talked to Juan Carlos, the mechanic from the church, who was going to send a tow truck out for the trufi. I was so thankful to God that this had happened in a place that I recognized and not up in the mountains where I was completely lost.
After an hour and a half sitting in the hot car alone and worried, I spotted a group I recognized. Sandra and three of the boys from the BLC were passing by. I had called Sandra too, so she was looking for me. They joined me in the hot car and chatted a while about the policeman who had approached me and asked me to move the car (I was parked directly under a no parking sign) and then apologized for confronting me after I explained that the motor was dead and I couldn’t move it. Moments later, I spotted the bus from the BLC. Tio Rodo was on the phone with the mechanic as he approached. As we loaded the supplies onto the bus, he offered to stay with the trufi until the mechanic arrived.
Two hours after my first call for help, I was in the bus and on my way home. It was true that my way had not been smooth or comfortable, but God had shown up to Provide for me in so many ways: the landmarks, the other blockade runners, the timing of the breakdown, the taxi driver and his friend, the welcome sight of friends, and the slew of people that came to my rescue. Even Sergio called me back to make sure I was okay!
My pride is gone and I have such gratitude for His provision. Thank you God, for breaking me down to teach me, and seeing me through. What was I reading before I left this morning? Isaiah 2:3, “...He will teach us His ways, so that we may walk in His paths…”
Monday, November 9, 2009
Lazy Weekend
We had a pretty lazy weekend here at the BLC. Lots of fooling around and movie watching. I was up late both Saturday and Sunday watching movies with the Medianos in the movie room. The boys even made popcorn on Saturday. Sunday I got to drive the trufi home from church, so I took advantage and stopped at the grocery store. I also figured out that I can send and receive text messages internationally. So drop me a note if you like! 591-779-49362 (yes, there should be an extra number)
Friday, November 6, 2009
Oh So Good
I’m feeling great! The “Cochabamba Crud” (sinus problems that always set in around week 2) has nearly passed and my tummy is full of pizza this evening. One of our boys had a check up scheduled this evening and Sandra invited me to go along with them because there was a cheap pizza place nearby. A lot of rice is eaten around here, and I can only take so much. On top of that, Bolivian culture states that it is incredibly rude to not finish the entire plate you are served. So I’m cooking for myself pretty often, and my meals tend to be very simple as cooking here takes so much more time. Well, the doctor actually called and canceled the appointment before we left, but the idea of pizza was so wonderful that we headed as far as Quillacollo to find some! I’m just so glad we did!!
Friday is market day in Quillacollo and the streets were packed. There was a long row of booths all selling the same thing and Sandra took me to one to explain them. The first Friday of every month (today) these favors are sold for the believers of Pacha Mama (basically the worship of Mother Earth and animal spirits). They are small squares made of pressed sugar with various designs on them. The people buy a bunch and the seller places them on a newspaper, throws a handful of confetti over them, and then wraps it all up in the newspaper for the buyer. The sugar squares were by far the most popular, but many other items were available at the same booths for use in the worship of Pacha Mama including various herbs and dried llama fetuses.
Friday is market day in Quillacollo and the streets were packed. There was a long row of booths all selling the same thing and Sandra took me to one to explain them. The first Friday of every month (today) these favors are sold for the believers of Pacha Mama (basically the worship of Mother Earth and animal spirits). They are small squares made of pressed sugar with various designs on them. The people buy a bunch and the seller places them on a newspaper, throws a handful of confetti over them, and then wraps it all up in the newspaper for the buyer. The sugar squares were by far the most popular, but many other items were available at the same booths for use in the worship of Pacha Mama including various herbs and dried llama fetuses.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
A-Okay
Quick update: our little one is back home, walking and all, but with instructions not to run around or play hard for 2 weeks. That’s quite a challenge for an 8 year old boy!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
A Long Night, A Lunch, and An Emergency
What a night! I’m exhausted today and about ready to head to bed. The overnight staff for the youngest boys was not able to come yesterday and I was asked to step in once again. It is simply exhausting for one adult to try to bathe and put to bed 27 boys under 10 years of age. I had to call in reinforcements from Sandra and then later again from one of the oldest boys! Then there is the midnight wake up call for some of the boys who still wet the bed. And they are awake by the time the sun comes up at 5am! Half of them have to get ready for school in the morning (the other half go in the afternoon) and then we take all the dirty clothes to the wash house before breakfast.
I barely had time to change clothes before I had to start the trek into town. A walk to the plaza in Sipe Sipe where I can catch a trufi to Quillacollo, and then crossing the plaza to catch the next trufi into Cochabamba. Pastor Reynaldo and Sandra (who graciously agreed to accompany me) met me at the church and then we took a taxi to Pastor Reynaldo’s church. He is the brother of Lita, who is the wife of David, the pastor that we partner with in Cochabamba. He showed us around his small church and then served us a traditional lunch that I can not remember the name of. Apparently, everything was cooked in the ground…chicken, rice, potatoes, and bananas. It had a very different flavor than what I have eaten before and was pretty good. Just as we were finishing, Sandra got a call that there was an emergency and we had to rush back home. The Pastor was very understanding and helped us to get a taxi to get home faster.
I’ll start by saying that everyone is okay. At the time, that wasn’t what we thought. The call Sandra got said that one of our younger boys had been climbing a tree and fallen, landing on his back, on a brick, and wasn’t moving. We were terrified. By the time we got back to the BLC, he had been moved into the clinic and was moving his arms and legs and talking. He was in pain though, afraid to sit up and unable to walk. We put him into the taxi and were off to Cochabamba again. At first he was still afraid, but with a little joking around he started to relax and giggle. He even played games on my cell phone until the battery died. When we arrived at the doctor’s office he was given a shot for the pain and it wasn’t long after that, that he was playing and joking around like normal. He was able to sit up, but was still afraid to walk. X-rays revealed no breaks or fractures. The doctor decided he will have to stay over night for observation, to make sure the impact did not damage any organs. He was in good spirits when we left, and we all prayed together.
We took the trufies home, and as we neared I got a little nervous thinking of the long dirt road we would have to walk in the dark. As we approached our stop, I spotted our two oldest boys lounging on the wall. They were waiting to walk us home! We really do have good boys…crazy monkeys and all :)
I barely had time to change clothes before I had to start the trek into town. A walk to the plaza in Sipe Sipe where I can catch a trufi to Quillacollo, and then crossing the plaza to catch the next trufi into Cochabamba. Pastor Reynaldo and Sandra (who graciously agreed to accompany me) met me at the church and then we took a taxi to Pastor Reynaldo’s church. He is the brother of Lita, who is the wife of David, the pastor that we partner with in Cochabamba. He showed us around his small church and then served us a traditional lunch that I can not remember the name of. Apparently, everything was cooked in the ground…chicken, rice, potatoes, and bananas. It had a very different flavor than what I have eaten before and was pretty good. Just as we were finishing, Sandra got a call that there was an emergency and we had to rush back home. The Pastor was very understanding and helped us to get a taxi to get home faster.
I’ll start by saying that everyone is okay. At the time, that wasn’t what we thought. The call Sandra got said that one of our younger boys had been climbing a tree and fallen, landing on his back, on a brick, and wasn’t moving. We were terrified. By the time we got back to the BLC, he had been moved into the clinic and was moving his arms and legs and talking. He was in pain though, afraid to sit up and unable to walk. We put him into the taxi and were off to Cochabamba again. At first he was still afraid, but with a little joking around he started to relax and giggle. He even played games on my cell phone until the battery died. When we arrived at the doctor’s office he was given a shot for the pain and it wasn’t long after that, that he was playing and joking around like normal. He was able to sit up, but was still afraid to walk. X-rays revealed no breaks or fractures. The doctor decided he will have to stay over night for observation, to make sure the impact did not damage any organs. He was in good spirits when we left, and we all prayed together.
We took the trufies home, and as we neared I got a little nervous thinking of the long dirt road we would have to walk in the dark. As we approached our stop, I spotted our two oldest boys lounging on the wall. They were waiting to walk us home! We really do have good boys…crazy monkeys and all :)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Anniversary and the Department of Transportation
Yesterday was the anniversary of the church that we work with here in Cochabamba. 23 years!! We took all of the middle and older boys into town for the celebration in the evening. It lasted 6 hours! It began with praise and worship and a sermon, then was followed by videos of the founding of the church, and finally by skits and dramas from the youth group. Chocolate cake and Coke were passed out to everyone in attendance and the church was packed (about 1,500 people)! It was an awesome celebration.
This morning I traveled back into town by myself for the first time…public transportation all the way! I have to admit that I was nervous, but everything went perfectly and it was a good test run for tomorrow when I have a lunch meeting with a pastor in town. I met Sandra at the church and we went to La Cancha for lunch. There are booths that sell fruit salad. I’m in love with these places! They serve a gigantic bowl of fresh fruits with a little yogurt…almost more than I can eat…for only 5Bs. (7Bs = $1) I would happily eat that every day if it were a little closer to the BLC. We then bought bread, as I was unable to find any on Sunday due to All Saints Day (the bakeries have only been making cakes and cookies for the holiday). Then we headed to the Department of Transportation to inquire about my getting a Bolivian driver’s license. This would be so helpful for me to have now, and especially when there are teams here. I’ve needed to drive on many occasions in the past and had to do it unlicensed. The result of the visit was not very promising though. I either have to take classes for a month or pay about $150. Either way, I also have to show my birth certificate, which I do not have here. Maybe some day…
This morning I traveled back into town by myself for the first time…public transportation all the way! I have to admit that I was nervous, but everything went perfectly and it was a good test run for tomorrow when I have a lunch meeting with a pastor in town. I met Sandra at the church and we went to La Cancha for lunch. There are booths that sell fruit salad. I’m in love with these places! They serve a gigantic bowl of fresh fruits with a little yogurt…almost more than I can eat…for only 5Bs. (7Bs = $1) I would happily eat that every day if it were a little closer to the BLC. We then bought bread, as I was unable to find any on Sunday due to All Saints Day (the bakeries have only been making cakes and cookies for the holiday). Then we headed to the Department of Transportation to inquire about my getting a Bolivian driver’s license. This would be so helpful for me to have now, and especially when there are teams here. I’ve needed to drive on many occasions in the past and had to do it unlicensed. The result of the visit was not very promising though. I either have to take classes for a month or pay about $150. Either way, I also have to show my birth certificate, which I do not have here. Maybe some day…
Monday, November 2, 2009
All Saints Day
Today is All Saints Day in Bolivia. It goes hand in hand with the origins of Halloween, and because it fell on a Monday, the celebration is now on it’s third day. Sandra and I walked into Sipe Sipe after lunch; you would have thought they were having a parade. There was a constant flow of people walking together, arms laden with flowers and baskets of food, balancing buckets filled with juice or checha (the popular home brewed alcohol). We followed the flow of people and through the streets that were now lined with booths selling more flowers and sweets, ice cream, fried meats of all kinds, toys, etc. The flow led us straight into the cemetery.
It was the first Bolivian cemetery I have been in and it was hard to walk down the path because of the crowd! The path was lined with tall shrubs and walkways branched off to small areas of mausoleums. These areas were also filled with people “visiting” their relatives. Further back, was the “poorer” area, as Sandra explained. Here, the graves were all in the ground. It was just as full of people as the front and even had a live band playing on one side. The graves were laid haphazardly wherever there was space. As we followed a trail that looped around one side, we stepped from mound to mound. I felt bad at first, coming from a culture that looks down upon stepping or standing on someone’s grave, but the culture here clearly speaks differently about this. All of the graves had flowers and piles of sweet breads, some had blankets and candles. The more elaborate had every square inch covered in foods and flowers, heaping high so that no dirt showed.
As we left the cemetery and made our way back home, I asked Sandra about the beliefs surrounding these practices. Family members bring the favorite foods of the deceased to their grave to share with their spirit. As more people come to visit, they ask each person to pray for the soul of the deceased, and then share the food that they have brought. This is especially important the first year after someone has died as, on this night, the other souls in the cemetery will “punish” and beat the new souls. The prayers provide them with protection to ease their suffering. At night, the people are supposed to dress in black so that these angry souls can not see them. As Sandra shared with me the words of her own grandmother about these beliefs, I commented about how terrible they must believe it is to die and how I found it interesting that all of the souls were mean. I thought a little more about this later and realized that their belief is really very light, only receiving a beating one night a year assuming their family does not provide adequate protection. The reality of hell that faces these who are lost is in reality significantly worse.
The holiday is, apparently, beneficial for many children. Sandra explained that many children, the poor and homeless, will travel through the cemeteries during this season offering to pray for souls and accepting the food that is given to them for these prayers. Many children collect enough food to last them the entire next week. Some of our boys at the BLC used to do this.
It was the first Bolivian cemetery I have been in and it was hard to walk down the path because of the crowd! The path was lined with tall shrubs and walkways branched off to small areas of mausoleums. These areas were also filled with people “visiting” their relatives. Further back, was the “poorer” area, as Sandra explained. Here, the graves were all in the ground. It was just as full of people as the front and even had a live band playing on one side. The graves were laid haphazardly wherever there was space. As we followed a trail that looped around one side, we stepped from mound to mound. I felt bad at first, coming from a culture that looks down upon stepping or standing on someone’s grave, but the culture here clearly speaks differently about this. All of the graves had flowers and piles of sweet breads, some had blankets and candles. The more elaborate had every square inch covered in foods and flowers, heaping high so that no dirt showed.
As we left the cemetery and made our way back home, I asked Sandra about the beliefs surrounding these practices. Family members bring the favorite foods of the deceased to their grave to share with their spirit. As more people come to visit, they ask each person to pray for the soul of the deceased, and then share the food that they have brought. This is especially important the first year after someone has died as, on this night, the other souls in the cemetery will “punish” and beat the new souls. The prayers provide them with protection to ease their suffering. At night, the people are supposed to dress in black so that these angry souls can not see them. As Sandra shared with me the words of her own grandmother about these beliefs, I commented about how terrible they must believe it is to die and how I found it interesting that all of the souls were mean. I thought a little more about this later and realized that their belief is really very light, only receiving a beating one night a year assuming their family does not provide adequate protection. The reality of hell that faces these who are lost is in reality significantly worse.
The holiday is, apparently, beneficial for many children. Sandra explained that many children, the poor and homeless, will travel through the cemeteries during this season offering to pray for souls and accepting the food that is given to them for these prayers. Many children collect enough food to last them the entire next week. Some of our boys at the BLC used to do this.
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