I hate flying. The take offs and the landings make my stomach churn, and my nails claw into Paul’s calloused hands – as if being securely anchored to him should we crash will save me.

Last week was good for me. I traveled from Augusta, Georgia to Trinidad, Bolivia by myself. On six different flights. In that 24 hour period I learned a lot about myself. I’m not trying to be too confident, but I think future flights with Paul will be more comfortable for him now.

Trinidad, Bolivia was my third Bolivian airport that morning. It is much smaller than the other two airports I had been in. But, like the other two, no one spoke English and no one cared that there was a white person.

We were dropped off where the airplane stopped on the runway and had to walk across the runway under the hot sun into a small room to collect bags. Only, I didn’t have any to collect. I traveled with only my backpack.

I was able to pass through that room quickly and right on the other side was my friend, Amanda, waiting with a big hug and a smile. It’s been four years since we’d seen each other, but time and distance matters little in friendship.

We walked out to her car. I had jeans and a long sleeve shirt on from traveling and, while hot, I wasn’t dying. But I didn’t wear that outfit again while in Trinidad.

She had an errand to run and I was happy to tag along. It came with a stop by a fresh squeezed juice stand and my first taste of Bolivia was a cheap plastic cup full of orange juice that had been pressed right in front of me. As I drank it the lady came and topped the cup off. It cost somewhere around $1.

Errand finished we went to their house – a lovely two story home surrounded by a high gate. Amanda prepared lunch. Her son, Sam, came home from preschool pock d up by his dad, Craig, who was home from work. We ate lunch together and then I crashed from the 24 hours of travel.

I arrived at their home on Thursday and left it, with them, to head to Santa Cruz on the following Wednesday.

The week was full of catching up, learning about their day to day life and ministry work, meeting new people, playing with Sam, and eating good food.

The food was the one thing my boys bemoaned missing out on – it wasn’t that mommy would be gone for a week. It was that mommy got to eat food they wouldn’t be able to eat.

I was kind enough to document in picture form every meal I ate and send them pictures. I don’t think it made them feel better.

There was beef – so much beef. Tender and grilled and juicy and amazing. I had steak multiple times in my week here, each time it was served with yucca – something like a potato and fried, a cheesy rice dish, and a lettuce, tomato and onion salad. The first steak dinner was eaten at the best steak restaurant in town, and it was the best I’ve eaten in my life. It cost about $12.

I had alligator and pacu (fish). At the same meal because I couldn’t decide which one to have and I don’t think it’s truly gluttony when you only have a week to try all the new foods. The alligator was a bit tough, but resembled chicken. The fish was tender and delicious. There was rice, yucca, salad, and this time also plantain on the plate.

Our last full day in Trinidad we ate at a Brazilian restaurant. You load your plate buffet style and then they weigh it and, regardless of what is on your plate, you pay by weight. I went a little heavy on the beef, but tried a mix of dishes. It was all good with nothing too out there.

Craig and Amanda also introduced me to pastry dishes. One was a saltena. This was an empanada stuffed with hard boiled egg and chicken and a soup like filling. This a morning snack or breakfast item.

One afternoon we met with friends at a little cafe and got cunepe and chicken empanadas. I was very excited about the cunepe as it is just like the Brazilian cheese bread I make back home (Pao de Queijo). It’s made with tapioca flour and has the most satisfying chewiness to it. It was a culinary dorky moment to “be in the wild” and know exactly what I was eating and how it was made.

Then there was fruit. I’d pick fruit over candy any day, so I loved that there was so much in season! I enjoyed fresh squeezed orange, grapefruit, lemonade, and passion fruit juice. The plums were the best I’ve ever had. There was also banana, apple, avocado, peach, grape, pear, and watermelon.

I overate this week to be sure, but I never had any stomach issues apart from being abundantly stuffed. I do take a daily probiotic that my chiropractor recommends for travelers, so perhaps that helped keep my stomach in check. I tried everything that was made available to me and there were only two things I didn’t particularly care for – a yucca empanada (the flavor was great, it was just heavy and a bit salty) and a corn drink that was pleasant enough, just too sweet for me.

It has been very hot but, coming from Georgia, it is fairly comparable- only here there isn’t the option to tuck in to the AC apart from in two rooms in their house that hold small units that run the bill way up.

I’ve not been here long enough to comment much on the culture. Apart from the surprise (my ignorance!) that no one cares to attempt speaking English there hasn’t been much about the culture that surprised me or took me off guard. Being with friends helps. I imagine that it would come with a fuller immersion and actually having to be independent here.

I was surprised to see Amanda drive the streets of Trinidad with ease. The weaving motorbikes and lack of – or my lack of understanding of – traffic laws seemed like chaos. But she handled it like a champ. A couple times when we crossed streets I wanted to hold her hand to make sure I made it across … but I didn’t embarrass myself that bad. And I made it across safely.

The heat necessitates a mid day rest. Which works well as lunch time is the biggest meal of the day, and once stuffed with food (I’d like to think I wouldn’t eat this much if I lived here) it’s nice to chill a bit as food digests and the sun inches higher. The house is intelligently designed to allow for cross breezes.

The house is gated and, unlike most of the homes I have seen, is two stories. This gives them a nice bit of space for a yard, which includes a mango tree and a lemon tree. The yard also holds a little shed, home of the washing mashing. Outside the shed is an outdoor sink for scrubbing clothes, a clothes line (there is no drier), and a cement slab that covers the well that holds the water that gets brought in by truck as they need water. Which literally means they are watching their water levels to know where it’s at. Which also means they had to tell me I was using too much when I washed dishes.

When new water is added to the well they need to wait a day or two before using it on laundry as the sediment needs to settle. A pump turns on and pumps water to the hose every time the faucet is turned. Just one more detail of missionary life that we never even consider on our side of the world.

The house, as I have said, is two stories. It has plenty of windows and is well ventilated and well lit during daylight. When you walk in the front door you walk into the living room/playroom/dining room. This takes up the length of the house on the left side. At the back of the house is the kitchen. This takes up the back right portion of the house. The kitchen is much like your typical kitchen, only no dishwasher.

The front right corner of the house has a bathroom, a door that slides shut to keep the AC (if it’s turned on) only on the left side of the lower level, and a generous stair well that holds shelves and under stair storage – this being their only storage space.

Upstairs has three bedrooms – the master having a full bathroom, and then a bathroom for the other two rooms to share. While much is similar the differences are stark: for example, toilet paper gets thrown in a trash can, not down the toilet.

I was given my own room while here. It has a large window and a large door to the balcony. Save for the heavy rains, I kept the glass open on both so the breeze could find its way through the screens.

I packed light for the trip – we’ve started doing this on our trips around the US and found it to be such a peaceful way to pack. I decided to experiment and see if I could do it for nine days away from home and overseas where I can’t just pop in to a Walmart.

Day one we stopped at a pharmacy and I picked up a razor and shampoo and conditioner.

I borrowed a pair of flip flops from Amanda, and also a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt for swimming in. Next time I travel I will include the running shorts and tshirt in my packing.

In my backpack I brought;

Two dresses. Only really needed one.

One pair of shorts. Really should have had two.

Two tank tops. This was about right. But I shouldn’t have brought a white one.

One pair of pajamas – next time would switch them to running shorts and a T-shirt so they double up.

Then I wore jeans, a long sleeve shirt, and a water proof light weight jacket.

For shoes I had one pair of running shoes (I only ever wore traveling here. I find planes cold so like those for traveling.) and a pair of sandals.

I had two shirts and one skirt I never wore.

The other items in my bag were:

A toiletry bag.

One book – which I never read as I picked up several from Amanda’s bookshelf.

My Bible, devotional book, journal, pens, some snacks. I used all of these.

A travel pillow. I used this while traveling and, given the multiple flights over 24 hours, found it to be a useful luxury. It’s not an essential.

I also brought my phone, charger, a battery to charge my phone, and headphones. This was my first big trip without bringing my dslr camera and I honestly didn’t miss it once. I love it, but it would have been overkill on this trip. It was a scary decision to make though! I did have a Moment wide angle lens and that made up for my big camera. It gave me a creative outlet that could fit in my pocket.

As I write this my legs are still covered in mosquito bites. I spent an evening scrubbing shoes clean for travel and as I scrubbed at the outdoor sink the mosquitos feasted. I counted thirty six bites on my inner leg without even moving my leg. Then I gave up.

There are lots of little frogs here. I had one in my bedroom when I got here. And then a bit later one jumped on my face and I screamed.

There are many dogs here – and all sorts of breeds! They roam the streets and tear into trash bags laid by the road for pickup.

Horses roam the dirt roads, too. Grazing at grasses and meandering no where.

Rainy season is ending and the grass is very green and flowers are blooming in the overgrown field that my window overlooked.

My season here is ending, too. I am all packed up and ready to fly home and embrace my three sweet, brave, and sacrificial men that gave me these nine days away from home to be here with a friend. Through the transparency of friendship and the separation as a wife and mother from my family I have learned a lot. My head is still processing. Still gnawing out what is growing. But I will have more to say about this trip one day.

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