Warmest Saludos to you blog readers. I know it has been quite a while since you have heard much about the Story of Ben, but I assure you I am alive and kickin’ down here in Bolivia. Since the last major update, a lot has happened. I’ve walked on hot coals, my niece was born, I’ve drilled another well, I’ve traveled to a higher elevation than ever before, I’ve discovered a hidden love for John Hartford and Bluegrass music in general, I re-acquainted myself with not-so-hidden loves for The Lord of The Rings movies and the The West Wing television show, I’ve attended a Japanese festival and bought a rug made of reeds there, I’ve often times worn my hair in a ponytail (my dad was happy about the bluegrass music, my bet is he is not so thrilled about the ponytail) and I’ve said goodbye to some excellent friends whose time is up in Bolivia. I was lucky enough to be able to put on a fireworks show on the fourth of July, I had a two person R&D meeting in Spanish and outside, I celebrated the 39th anniversary of Hárdeman by dancing all night long four days in a row, I met a sweet musical group when they came here to play, I started writing a letter a week to people back home but have since slacked off, I judged a beauty contest, walked in a parade, jumped on a trampoline and scored a perfect 100 at Japanese Karaoke. Oh yeah, and I snuck in a little trip to a place called The United States of America. Perhaps you saw me there. I did most of the usual things I do in Ohio, including eating at Skyline, hiking in Hocking Hills, playing softball with the Yidiots, visiting Ohio State and mooching off of my parents. So, I will repeat, a lot has happened. I’ll get on with some photos here in a second, but allow this long-winded traveler a bit of reflection time. About two weeks ago, I passed the one-year in-site mark. It’s pretty much 100% unbelievable that I have been here in Hárdeman for a year because it has gone by so incredibly fast, just like they said it would. But then there are days where it totally makes sense I have been here for a year. I know everyone when I walk down the street, there are tons of people to greet, I don’t mind the repetitiveness of repeatedly getting served the same food over and over again (that sentence courtesy of the Department of Redundancy Department), and I can sleep through a blaring television, crying children, rooster-ing roosters, cats fighting and insanely loud buses honking all at the same time. If you don’t believe me, ask anyone who has stayed over in my far-from Chateau Hárdeman. I no longer am self-conscious about speaking Spanish (even to girls!) and actually enjoy dancing to Bolivian music.
So when one joins the Peace Corps, a lot of people ask “why?” or “what’s your goal?” or “aren’t you worried about rabies?” or (in the case of my mom at first) “why don’t you do something where you can earn some money?” And most people who become volunteers (myself included) give responses like they want to learn about a new culture, perhaps learn a new language, help people, see the world, help themselves grow, blahbbity-blah. After being here a year, I’ve been trying to reflect on some of those answers. I’ve definitely seriously improved my Spanish, but it’s kind of tough to tell how I’ve grown or changed or matured (or un-matured for that matter). And I don’t think it will be really easy to tell a lot of that stuff until I am done. Everything about my life is different down here, I think how I change is going to come down to what I end up taking back with me to the States. Habits, ideas, memories, goals, motivations. I think I have a much different outlook on life now, but it’s hard to gage while I am still down here…it will have to wait until it can be set against the contrast of life in America. But for those of you die-hards who want to know how I am different now, I guess I can tell you that I spend more time on my hair than I ever did in my life, I write dates starting with the day instead of the month and I am seriously losing my skills at speaking English. I guess that’s not bad for a year in a foreign country. Perhaps those of you with whom I keep in better touch would be better judges of how I may have changed.
Well, without further adieu, the following are a bunch of entries to catch you up on my life, those of you who are interested. There are a few photos missing, I will get them up soon.
30 August 2007
Festival de San Juan
June 24 in Bolivia is the festival of San Juan and is in general considered the coldest day of the year, despite the winter solstice being on the 21st of June. Well first of all I can tell you that it was NOT the coldest day of the year, but that’s a whole other story. San Juan is celebrated in some parts of Bolivia, including Hárdeman, with campfires outside of everyone’s house and then at midnight the tradition is to walk across the hot coals of the fire. According to “legend” if you do it right at midnight, the coals will not burn you. Well, as you can imagine, I had my doubts. I was out pasear-ing around town that night and noticed my friend Ana María getting ready to start a fire outside of her house, so I stopped in to share since my family didn’t look like they were going to make a fire. Turns out Ana’s family was burning all their clothes they had worn out or grown out of that year…which I found kind of strange but whatever. There haven’t been too many times in Bolivia when I’ve had the chance to sit around a campfire just for the sake of sitting around a campfire, so I was certainly enjoying it. I tried to tell Ana some stories of the Ranzaganza, but I don’t think she really understood why I was so entertained by cardboard cut-outs or throwing a vortex football at the backsides of my cousins. Anyway, I was enjoying the fire but as midnight approached we headed over to the youth center where they were electing “Miss San Juan,” the queen of the festival. The pageant was already underway when we got in, which I was happy about because they usually “honor” me with asking me to be a judge, which would be ok if the contestants weren’t ranging from 6th to 11th grade. It was quite un-nerving to watch these young girls parade up and down a makeshift catwalk while their parents and hosts of other old men watched and whistled and hooted. But, at least the oldest girl won…I think she’s 16. Here is a picture of the her (she’s on the left, named Lucero) Ana and me:
Then we went outside to where a fire had been burning for a few hours to walk on the hot coals. Here is a shot of Ana making her way across:
It took a couple of minutes of deciding as well as Ana calling me a sissy before I decided to do it, but I finally did and did not in fact get burned. Since not everyone in the campo gets digital cameras that well, here’s how the picture turned out:
Yeah I know you can’t see me at all but I wanted to put it up to show the creepy flaming cross that came out instead…can you see it? I thought it was pretty cool. I showed it to some of the folks watching and even got a pretty big laugh out of one of our nuns Madre Gracia by telling her it came out that way because I played Jesus at Easter. You can imagine how proud I was to have made an Italian nun laugh in a language that was neither my first nor her first.
I don’t think I need to tell you that there is nothing magical going on here. Yeah, the coals were hot, but they spread them out over an area where the fire had not been burning, so they weren’t as hot as they could be. Plus the bottoms of your feet are pretty tough…well at least mine are from living in the campo for a year. They maintained that it was the magic of San Juan, even after I pointed out that it was like 12:10 when we did it, but what the heck, it was fun.
Then we went outside to where a fire had been burning for a few hours to walk on the hot coals. Here is a shot of Ana making her way across:
It took a couple of minutes of deciding as well as Ana calling me a sissy before I decided to do it, but I finally did and did not in fact get burned. Since not everyone in the campo gets digital cameras that well, here’s how the picture turned out:
Yeah I know you can’t see me at all but I wanted to put it up to show the creepy flaming cross that came out instead…can you see it? I thought it was pretty cool. I showed it to some of the folks watching and even got a pretty big laugh out of one of our nuns Madre Gracia by telling her it came out that way because I played Jesus at Easter. You can imagine how proud I was to have made an Italian nun laugh in a language that was neither my first nor her first.
I don’t think I need to tell you that there is nothing magical going on here. Yeah, the coals were hot, but they spread them out over an area where the fire had not been burning, so they weren’t as hot as they could be. Plus the bottoms of your feet are pretty tough…well at least mine are from living in the campo for a year. They maintained that it was the magic of San Juan, even after I pointed out that it was like 12:10 when we did it, but what the heck, it was fun.
It’s a Vicious Cycle
One of the craziest things about Peace Corps is the constant cycle of volunteers arriving and leaving. Approximately every four months, a new group of 20-30 people arrive to begin training and right about the same time another group of 20-30 people leaves that has been here for two years. So, we are constantly meeting new friends and at the same time saying goodbye to some of the old ones. It’s interesting to meet all these different kinds of people, but it’s kind of sad that no matter what at some point in the next two years we will have to say goodbye. I especially have some great friends in the other Basic Sanitation group…easier to bond with since we have the same project and often have to attend the same activities. Well, just a couple weeks ago, the majority of that group left, including two of my good buds Travis from Idaho (on the left) and Clayton from California.
These guys along with Jacob from Texas have their own little triumvirate of well drillers up in the altiplano and I have gotten to be good friends with them, but their time is up. The three of them set off on a whirlwind tour of South America, hitting pretty much every other country in this continent, and Travis and Clayton are even planning on getting back to the states via land, that is traveling and busing with their lives on their backs, hoping to be back for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I’m gonna miss these guys but I’m definitely looking forward to meeting back up with them in the States and sharing a decent brand of beer while listening to some John Hartford (in Travis’ case) or Iron Maiden (in Clayton’s case). Nos vemos, chicos.
While I’m saying goodbye to folks, I would be remiss to leave out Khalial Withen. I randomly met Khalial last October when she came to Hárdeman for a health fair. A fellow gringo, she was here on a Fulbright Scholarship doing a research project. For some insane reason, she wanted to learn how to drill wells, so she became apart of our Norte Cruceño team. Right away her enthusiasm and idealistic mentality were things I admired. She made several trips to Hárdeman, getting along great with my family and others in town, so much even that to this day people ask me when she’s coming back. We had many an excellent conversation about life in Bolivia and life in general, and it was always a breath of fresh air to talk with and listen to Khalial. Unfortunately her time has run out here in Bolivia as well and she will be sorely missed. Khalial can be found starting the communist revolution in rural western Virginia (not to be confused with West Virginia). ¡Viva Evo!
These guys along with Jacob from Texas have their own little triumvirate of well drillers up in the altiplano and I have gotten to be good friends with them, but their time is up. The three of them set off on a whirlwind tour of South America, hitting pretty much every other country in this continent, and Travis and Clayton are even planning on getting back to the states via land, that is traveling and busing with their lives on their backs, hoping to be back for Thanksgiving or Christmas. I’m gonna miss these guys but I’m definitely looking forward to meeting back up with them in the States and sharing a decent brand of beer while listening to some John Hartford (in Travis’ case) or Iron Maiden (in Clayton’s case). Nos vemos, chicos.
While I’m saying goodbye to folks, I would be remiss to leave out Khalial Withen. I randomly met Khalial last October when she came to Hárdeman for a health fair. A fellow gringo, she was here on a Fulbright Scholarship doing a research project. For some insane reason, she wanted to learn how to drill wells, so she became apart of our Norte Cruceño team. Right away her enthusiasm and idealistic mentality were things I admired. She made several trips to Hárdeman, getting along great with my family and others in town, so much even that to this day people ask me when she’s coming back. We had many an excellent conversation about life in Bolivia and life in general, and it was always a breath of fresh air to talk with and listen to Khalial. Unfortunately her time has run out here in Bolivia as well and she will be sorely missed. Khalial can be found starting the communist revolution in rural western Virginia (not to be confused with West Virginia). ¡Viva Evo!
“Oh I Wanna Go Back To Ohio State…” And So I Did
(sidenote, for those of you not familiar with things such as “Sphinx” or “Skyline Chili”, some of the following might not make sense…hopefully the photos will help)
Right around my one-year out of country mark (early May) I took my long awaited and much anticipated trip back home to Ohio. I literally began planning this trip in July 2005 when I first found out I’d be leaving the states in May 2006. I knew I wanted to make it to OSU for the 100th anniversary of Sphinx and I also figured that one year out of country would be a good time to make it back. And so it was, two weeks in the States that was a whirlwind of emotions and a heck of a good time. After reuniting with my parents at the Greater Cincinnati Northern Kentucky Airport, the same place I had left them teary eyed (me moreso than them) one year earlier, we wasted no time in getting my most important task accomplished…going to Skyline. Oh how I had missed my Skyline. Even though Clifton Skyline did not have my trademark chocolate milk, I think I can safely say it was the most delicious three-way I have ever eaten. Keri Marsh even showed up at the restaurant to hang out and took this sweet picture. I try not to look at this too often because it makes me hungry.
The next morning I promptly abandoned my loving parents for a crazy weekend in Columbus and Cleveland. I felt extremely lucky to be able to see pretty much everyone I wanted to in Columbus that weekend, minus a few key players of course. Since my Grandpa Ranz and his brother Norb were both in Sphinx too when they were at OSU, it was a bit of a family reunion for us as well. Here are the three Ranz tried-links on Browning Amphitheater after the ceremony. In perfect Norb and George style, they were dressed exactly alike without planning it, without a doubt with all clothes they had gotten for free from “The Facility” (spoken with deepened Grampal voice), right down to the skivvies, I’m sure:
And here’s a shot with 3 generations of Ranz males:
It was a nice relaxed day at OSU, just like the good ‘ol days. Here’s a shot of Nathan and Kirk on the oval, enjoying the shade of the 5 brothers:
Then that night the party got rolling and of course included a 97 reunion at Mama’s Pasta & Brew and some Cuban cigars. Here are the four of us Goonies enjoying a good smoke. From left to right: Mouth, Chunk, Data & Mikey. (Please note our choice of t-shirts included both Catfish Biff’s and Ohio Wheelchair Games)
The big event that weekend of course was the Sphinx 100th Anniversary Banquet. As opposed to hearing more cracks about looking like the cavemen from the Geico commercials or Bigfoot, I decided to lose the beard and maybe put the hair under a little more control. Here’s what it looked like at least for a little bit:
Since the 97th class is so awesome, 22 out of 24 of us showed up for the banquet, with the other two in town but with other plans. Check us out:
We made it out to a nice place afterwards called The Elevator and it was like we never left Columbus. Here’s a good one with Frank and Jammers enjoying a few drinks:
And god bless Katy (Poth) Endsley for not only making one of my favorite foods (her mom’s cheesy potatoes) but actually bringing the dish to the bar to be consumed there. It was glorious.
As my time in Columbus came to a close and I frenzied to say goodbye to everyone, I managed to lock my keys in my car in the Holiday Inn parking lot. Luckily, Frank Sasso and his Real Estate & Finance degree were there to help. At first Frank began to make a non-chalant Triple-A phone call, but after a couple of rings, hung up and said “forget Triple-A. We’ll get these out ourselves.” And so here is Frank saving the day with a bent up hanger he had in his car. Mr. Sasso, I am in your debt.
Unfortunately, I have no photos of the following few days, which is a shame. From Columbus I drove up to Cleveland, Ohio to spend the day and evening with Ben and Mia Coleman. Ben Coleman was my roommate for 3 of my 5 years of college and I generally consider him my hetero-lifemate since we are so alike. Ben and Mia got married last July, a wedding that I was unfortunately unable to attend. So this was my first time seeing them actually married, which was exciting for me. They have a nice little apartment outside of Cleveland, complete with a parakeet. Cole surprised me and invited Doug Gillespie (another college roommate) up to hang out as well and we had a grand old time tooling around in Doug’s shiny new BMW while Doug rattled off all of its characteristics and we compared it to his old blue Tercel, which I think is for sale if anyone is interested. We had some Starbucks, bought some yummy non-Bolivian beer from World Market and then went out for a delicious dinner of crablegs at a place that I can’t remember the name of but was really freaking good. We spent the rest of the evening drinking the yummy beer and watching old movies from college and talking about “the good ol days.” Cole took the next day off of work and we spent the day playing “Scene It” and watching Back To the Future. We took a walk out to the beach and light-house near their apartment to get some fresh air as well. It was nice to get to see where they live, since I have only heard about it in emails. We hugged a goodbye, not exactly sure when or where the next time we’d see each other would be. Turns out he might make it down to visit sometime next year, which would be incredible.
From Cleveland I drove back home to Cincy, re-reuniting with my parents and seeing my sister and brother-in-law. We headed off to Hocking Hills for a few days, our trademark vacation spot. It was an excellent and relaxing three days filled with good conversations, excellent hikes, yummy food, pipe smoking, and my very pregnant sister not complaining one bit about all the walking. She did really great and it was good to actually see she was doing well rather than just people telling me about it. That sentiment pretty much goes for everything I did while I was home. I really don’t know why I didn’t take any pictures but oh well.
We made it back to Cincy and I was lucky enough to get to hang out with one of my oldest friends, Steph Woody. Steph and I have been tight since we met many years ago at Mr. Anderson’s cross country practice and Mr. Maginn’s Pre-Algebra class…seventh grade. We went and got some delicious Indian Food at Ambar and tooled around Clifton a bit, including a stop up on Mt. Storm park on a lovely Cincinnati evening. Steph had gotten married since I’d seen her last so I guess I should refer to her as Steph Goetz but it’s hard to say goodbye to a name like Woody. Anyway I was lucky enough to see both Mr. and Mrs. Goetz a couple of days later when we had an open house at my parents’ house. They live in Bloomington, Indiana where Steph teaches Spanish to college students and Jack spends his days in a lab doing very important and dangerous things which I will not delve into here because they are government secrets and Kirk will get in trouble if his old boss finds out Kirk knows me.
Friday was a day I had been looking forward to for a while. You see, every Friday during the summer, the greatest slow-pitch softball team takes the field at TCYO park in Miamitown. I am of course talking about the Yidiots. If you are ever in the area on a Friday, I suggest you make a stop to catch a game. Most of these guys are friends of my dad from high school or sons of his friends, as the team has now become a family affair. With my dad, myself, cousins and uncles, we Ranz’s now count for six of the roster. A lot of the family came down to watch the game as well, so it was good that we won. I didn’t even screw up too bad…I caught everything that came to me, got a couple of hits and even fell flat on my ass getting tug out at home, of course provoking heckles of “Yidiot!” from both the bench and the crowd. Afterwards we headed back to my Uncle Scott’s backyard, which he has converted into a little pub of his own, affectionately referred to as “Scottie’s,” where there was plenty of golden nectar as well as more Skyline Chili. I don’t think everyone knows this, but Skyline actually does catering for parties, and here’s what it looks like:
It was great to catch up with my cousins and the rest of the Cincinnati crew, and really great to eat all the skyline. If you haven’t picked up on it yet, food was a big part of my trip home. Here’s a shot of my cousins and me enjoying each other’s company:
From left they are Seth, me, Leslie and Shane. Being the closest in age, the four of us always managed to raise hell at family Christmas parties and camping trips and even managed to renovate a place called The Shack all those years ago. I really miss these guys, but Seth is planning a trip down here to visit me in a couple of months here, so that’s going to be sweet.
Saturday was my last full day in Ohio. My cousin Seth took me skeet-shooting for the first time, I cut most of the grass at my parents’ house getting ready for the open house and then had a grand old time talking with the rest of people I wanted to see while I was in Cincy, and even some die-hard fans who made the trip down from Columbus. It was a lovely end to a great trip. My parents took me to the airport to the next day to start the next adventure, which turned out to be later that day. The plan was to fly to Dallas-Ft. Worth, then to Miami, and then to Bolivia. Well it turns out there was weather in Dallas so we had to make an emergency landing to save fuel in Texarkana, Texas; which unbeknownst to me, actually exists in real life and not just in that movie Smokey and The Bandit. If you don’t believe me, here is a picture:
They even have free wireless internet at the Texarkana airport, which impressed me to no end. Well, to make a long story a little longer, I got to Dallas too late to make the connection and had to spend the night there, but I got on a flight the next night and arrived to Bolivia a day later than planned, but that’s just about right on-time by Bolivian standards. There was even a package waiting for me in the Peace Corps office, sent by Steph about 5 months prior. A little damaged (see below) but it made it. Thanks Steph!
Right around my one-year out of country mark (early May) I took my long awaited and much anticipated trip back home to Ohio. I literally began planning this trip in July 2005 when I first found out I’d be leaving the states in May 2006. I knew I wanted to make it to OSU for the 100th anniversary of Sphinx and I also figured that one year out of country would be a good time to make it back. And so it was, two weeks in the States that was a whirlwind of emotions and a heck of a good time. After reuniting with my parents at the Greater Cincinnati Northern Kentucky Airport, the same place I had left them teary eyed (me moreso than them) one year earlier, we wasted no time in getting my most important task accomplished…going to Skyline. Oh how I had missed my Skyline. Even though Clifton Skyline did not have my trademark chocolate milk, I think I can safely say it was the most delicious three-way I have ever eaten. Keri Marsh even showed up at the restaurant to hang out and took this sweet picture. I try not to look at this too often because it makes me hungry.
The next morning I promptly abandoned my loving parents for a crazy weekend in Columbus and Cleveland. I felt extremely lucky to be able to see pretty much everyone I wanted to in Columbus that weekend, minus a few key players of course. Since my Grandpa Ranz and his brother Norb were both in Sphinx too when they were at OSU, it was a bit of a family reunion for us as well. Here are the three Ranz tried-links on Browning Amphitheater after the ceremony. In perfect Norb and George style, they were dressed exactly alike without planning it, without a doubt with all clothes they had gotten for free from “The Facility” (spoken with deepened Grampal voice), right down to the skivvies, I’m sure:
And here’s a shot with 3 generations of Ranz males:
It was a nice relaxed day at OSU, just like the good ‘ol days. Here’s a shot of Nathan and Kirk on the oval, enjoying the shade of the 5 brothers:
Then that night the party got rolling and of course included a 97 reunion at Mama’s Pasta & Brew and some Cuban cigars. Here are the four of us Goonies enjoying a good smoke. From left to right: Mouth, Chunk, Data & Mikey. (Please note our choice of t-shirts included both Catfish Biff’s and Ohio Wheelchair Games)
The big event that weekend of course was the Sphinx 100th Anniversary Banquet. As opposed to hearing more cracks about looking like the cavemen from the Geico commercials or Bigfoot, I decided to lose the beard and maybe put the hair under a little more control. Here’s what it looked like at least for a little bit:
Since the 97th class is so awesome, 22 out of 24 of us showed up for the banquet, with the other two in town but with other plans. Check us out:
We made it out to a nice place afterwards called The Elevator and it was like we never left Columbus. Here’s a good one with Frank and Jammers enjoying a few drinks:
And god bless Katy (Poth) Endsley for not only making one of my favorite foods (her mom’s cheesy potatoes) but actually bringing the dish to the bar to be consumed there. It was glorious.
As my time in Columbus came to a close and I frenzied to say goodbye to everyone, I managed to lock my keys in my car in the Holiday Inn parking lot. Luckily, Frank Sasso and his Real Estate & Finance degree were there to help. At first Frank began to make a non-chalant Triple-A phone call, but after a couple of rings, hung up and said “forget Triple-A. We’ll get these out ourselves.” And so here is Frank saving the day with a bent up hanger he had in his car. Mr. Sasso, I am in your debt.
Unfortunately, I have no photos of the following few days, which is a shame. From Columbus I drove up to Cleveland, Ohio to spend the day and evening with Ben and Mia Coleman. Ben Coleman was my roommate for 3 of my 5 years of college and I generally consider him my hetero-lifemate since we are so alike. Ben and Mia got married last July, a wedding that I was unfortunately unable to attend. So this was my first time seeing them actually married, which was exciting for me. They have a nice little apartment outside of Cleveland, complete with a parakeet. Cole surprised me and invited Doug Gillespie (another college roommate) up to hang out as well and we had a grand old time tooling around in Doug’s shiny new BMW while Doug rattled off all of its characteristics and we compared it to his old blue Tercel, which I think is for sale if anyone is interested. We had some Starbucks, bought some yummy non-Bolivian beer from World Market and then went out for a delicious dinner of crablegs at a place that I can’t remember the name of but was really freaking good. We spent the rest of the evening drinking the yummy beer and watching old movies from college and talking about “the good ol days.” Cole took the next day off of work and we spent the day playing “Scene It” and watching Back To the Future. We took a walk out to the beach and light-house near their apartment to get some fresh air as well. It was nice to get to see where they live, since I have only heard about it in emails. We hugged a goodbye, not exactly sure when or where the next time we’d see each other would be. Turns out he might make it down to visit sometime next year, which would be incredible.
From Cleveland I drove back home to Cincy, re-reuniting with my parents and seeing my sister and brother-in-law. We headed off to Hocking Hills for a few days, our trademark vacation spot. It was an excellent and relaxing three days filled with good conversations, excellent hikes, yummy food, pipe smoking, and my very pregnant sister not complaining one bit about all the walking. She did really great and it was good to actually see she was doing well rather than just people telling me about it. That sentiment pretty much goes for everything I did while I was home. I really don’t know why I didn’t take any pictures but oh well.
We made it back to Cincy and I was lucky enough to get to hang out with one of my oldest friends, Steph Woody. Steph and I have been tight since we met many years ago at Mr. Anderson’s cross country practice and Mr. Maginn’s Pre-Algebra class…seventh grade. We went and got some delicious Indian Food at Ambar and tooled around Clifton a bit, including a stop up on Mt. Storm park on a lovely Cincinnati evening. Steph had gotten married since I’d seen her last so I guess I should refer to her as Steph Goetz but it’s hard to say goodbye to a name like Woody. Anyway I was lucky enough to see both Mr. and Mrs. Goetz a couple of days later when we had an open house at my parents’ house. They live in Bloomington, Indiana where Steph teaches Spanish to college students and Jack spends his days in a lab doing very important and dangerous things which I will not delve into here because they are government secrets and Kirk will get in trouble if his old boss finds out Kirk knows me.
Friday was a day I had been looking forward to for a while. You see, every Friday during the summer, the greatest slow-pitch softball team takes the field at TCYO park in Miamitown. I am of course talking about the Yidiots. If you are ever in the area on a Friday, I suggest you make a stop to catch a game. Most of these guys are friends of my dad from high school or sons of his friends, as the team has now become a family affair. With my dad, myself, cousins and uncles, we Ranz’s now count for six of the roster. A lot of the family came down to watch the game as well, so it was good that we won. I didn’t even screw up too bad…I caught everything that came to me, got a couple of hits and even fell flat on my ass getting tug out at home, of course provoking heckles of “Yidiot!” from both the bench and the crowd. Afterwards we headed back to my Uncle Scott’s backyard, which he has converted into a little pub of his own, affectionately referred to as “Scottie’s,” where there was plenty of golden nectar as well as more Skyline Chili. I don’t think everyone knows this, but Skyline actually does catering for parties, and here’s what it looks like:
It was great to catch up with my cousins and the rest of the Cincinnati crew, and really great to eat all the skyline. If you haven’t picked up on it yet, food was a big part of my trip home. Here’s a shot of my cousins and me enjoying each other’s company:
From left they are Seth, me, Leslie and Shane. Being the closest in age, the four of us always managed to raise hell at family Christmas parties and camping trips and even managed to renovate a place called The Shack all those years ago. I really miss these guys, but Seth is planning a trip down here to visit me in a couple of months here, so that’s going to be sweet.
Saturday was my last full day in Ohio. My cousin Seth took me skeet-shooting for the first time, I cut most of the grass at my parents’ house getting ready for the open house and then had a grand old time talking with the rest of people I wanted to see while I was in Cincy, and even some die-hard fans who made the trip down from Columbus. It was a lovely end to a great trip. My parents took me to the airport to the next day to start the next adventure, which turned out to be later that day. The plan was to fly to Dallas-Ft. Worth, then to Miami, and then to Bolivia. Well it turns out there was weather in Dallas so we had to make an emergency landing to save fuel in Texarkana, Texas; which unbeknownst to me, actually exists in real life and not just in that movie Smokey and The Bandit. If you don’t believe me, here is a picture:
They even have free wireless internet at the Texarkana airport, which impressed me to no end. Well, to make a long story a little longer, I got to Dallas too late to make the connection and had to spend the night there, but I got on a flight the next night and arrived to Bolivia a day later than planned, but that’s just about right on-time by Bolivian standards. There was even a package waiting for me in the Peace Corps office, sent by Steph about 5 months prior. A little damaged (see below) but it made it. Thanks Steph!
A Different Kind of Drilling
Back in June, I traveled up to Oruro department which is in the western part of Bolivia to help with the training of the newly arrived Basic Sanitation Volunteers. We have our crew of 3 well drillers down here in Santa Cruz, and there were four drillers being replaced up in the Altiplano. Since those guys were the guys leaving, they wanted to train the new group in the place where they would be going. But, in order for the new group to have a connection with us down in Santa Cruz, they let me come up and lend a hand with the drilling. The terrain up there is much different than down here. We usually drill anywhere to 30-60 meters into the ground (100-200ft), whereas up there they only drill wells between about 6-18 meters. But, they run into a lot more rocks and harder stuff to get through, while we usually just deal with clay and sand. To build our tower to hold our rig, we usually cut down a couple of trees, but up in Oruro, there is no vegetation, so they have to lug around a huge metal tripod to hold up their rig. I had never drilled up there before, so it was a cool experience to see how the other-half lives. Here’s a wide shot of the whole process, quite different from what it looks like down here in Santa Cruz:
Since it is so high up (and since we were in the middle of winter), it was really, really cold up there. The sun was strong though, so that helped to keep us warm during the day, but if you got wet or something, you were miserable. Down here in Santa Cruz, when you get wet while drilling it’s usually a welcome refresher. “Altiplano” means “high plain” and that’s literally what it is. There are peaks rising up in the distance, but for the most part there are just huge, vast flat plains that seem to go on forever without trees at all. If you’re into live things and lush vegetation, you might consider it an ugly place. But, in my opinion, the sunsets made up for it:
Due to having the nastiest cold of my life that week, I did not actually work much. Plus, all the new trainees were really motivated to work, so that helped. Not being one to often keep my mouth shut, I offered verbal assistance whenever I could as well as got some wicked rounds of the movie game going, which always helps to pass the time. We drilled to nine meters, installed the pump and got some clean water out of the well. It was really great for the trainees to see a well from start to finish and it was a cool experience to be up there helping out. Luckily that weekend I recuperated at my friend Anna’s house in Oruro city by sleeping a lot and eating some yummy food and taking hot showers. Oh man that was nice. Thanks Anna, you’re amazing.
Since it is so high up (and since we were in the middle of winter), it was really, really cold up there. The sun was strong though, so that helped to keep us warm during the day, but if you got wet or something, you were miserable. Down here in Santa Cruz, when you get wet while drilling it’s usually a welcome refresher. “Altiplano” means “high plain” and that’s literally what it is. There are peaks rising up in the distance, but for the most part there are just huge, vast flat plains that seem to go on forever without trees at all. If you’re into live things and lush vegetation, you might consider it an ugly place. But, in my opinion, the sunsets made up for it:
Due to having the nastiest cold of my life that week, I did not actually work much. Plus, all the new trainees were really motivated to work, so that helped. Not being one to often keep my mouth shut, I offered verbal assistance whenever I could as well as got some wicked rounds of the movie game going, which always helps to pass the time. We drilled to nine meters, installed the pump and got some clean water out of the well. It was really great for the trainees to see a well from start to finish and it was a cool experience to be up there helping out. Luckily that weekend I recuperated at my friend Anna’s house in Oruro city by sleeping a lot and eating some yummy food and taking hot showers. Oh man that was nice. Thanks Anna, you’re amazing.
Bienvenidos al Mundo, Riley Jo Hanauer
So back in December I found out that my sister Maurie was pregnant, which made me pretty excited. I’ve always thought I’d make a pretty good uncle, after all I’ve had some pretty amazing uncles to train me…I mean how could I not be a good uncle after having learned from the likes of Uncle Ron, Uncle George, Uncle Mitch, Uncle Fred, Uncle Mark, Uncle Jamie, Uncle Denny, Uncle Scott, Uncle Bill and Uncle Rob? So I was pretty pumped to get to try out my uncle-ing skills, although I knew I would have to wait a bit before I actually met the new baby. Well, on Thursday morning, July 26 around 9:30 am, my sister gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Riley Jo Hanauer. I have no idea how much it weighed but I know she was healthy and with a solid head of black hair, Von Allmen style. Here is a shot of Maurie with the new baby and the proud father Joshua:
And of course the new grandparents, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Julie:
It’s certainly a bummer not to be around for all of this fun stuff but they are keeping me updated with news from home. Here is a link to a little video Joshua made for me, which makes me happy and sad all at the same time:
(videolink)
Congratulations to the new parents, and I look forward to meeting the little tyke a year from now. Keep the pictures coming!
And of course the new grandparents, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Julie:
It’s certainly a bummer not to be around for all of this fun stuff but they are keeping me updated with news from home. Here is a link to a little video Joshua made for me, which makes me happy and sad all at the same time:
(videolink)
Congratulations to the new parents, and I look forward to meeting the little tyke a year from now. Keep the pictures coming!
La Vida En Hardeman
Lately the most notable thing in Hárdeman has been the weather. It is technically the dry season, which I thought would mean that it would not rain at all, like it was in Cochabamba last year. But the dry season in Santa Cruz just means that it no longer rains for 4 or 5 days at a time. It still rains and it is always accompanied by a “surazo” which is a strong, cold wind from the south that blows up from Argentina and Antarctica. Around here people just call it a “sur” and one can arrive without warning, blowing dust all over town and dropping the temperature 20 or 25 degrees without blinking an eye. Since it’s usually in the 80s or something down here, one might think that some 50 or 60 degree weather would be welcome. Well, yes and no…imagine it being 55 degrees, terribly windy and cloudy. And then imagine that you are essentially camping in that weather, since pretty much all of the houses here are just random rooms without hallways or connecting walkways. It’s kind of like living in a college dorm except as soon as you walk out of your bedroom, you are outside. You have to walk outside to eat, go to the bathroom, everything. My bathroom here in Hárdeman is actually farther from my room than the bathroom was in Bradley Hall my freshman year. Ok, so you’re always outside and even when you are inside, the windows are not exactly well sealed and there is no heat. It can get a little uncomfortable. Now imagine taking a shower with cold water. Needless to say, bathing was not high on my list during those chilly days. Throw some water on the face, toss on my stocking cap and I was ready for the day. It got cold enough in the office that I even lit a candle to keep warm in my little corner:
Note how my hair is nice and confined under the hat. Here’s what happens when the hat comes off:
They say it’s been colder this year than in years past and I frankly am ready for it to be warm all the time now. Drilling wells in chilly, windy weather with only a cold shower awaiting me at the end of the day is not my idea of a good time. Here are some random shots of people and places around town.
I was totally pumped to see this girl wearing an OSU sweatshirt, especially one depicting the 1997 Rose Bowl, where Joe Germaine led the Bucks past Arizona State in a glorious come-from-behind victory. Great memories of watching that game in Scott’s basement with Skyline dip and Mary Jane’s Oreo Goop. Mmmmm.
How’s that for a pig? This thing was so huge I could not resist a picture. People in my town just have these pigs living in their yards like dogs (not so much as pets but just roaming freely). Mom, remember when you used to say you’d rather have a pig than a dog? Care to reconsider?
On top of the water tank on the day I got inside and helped our plumber Francisco clean the tank. This was a pretty fun time cause it was actually hot outside and it was nice and refreshing to be playing around in the water inside the tank.
The cutest kid in town, my host-niece Tahira, goofing around with some costume glasses sent down from Aunt Joyce in a Halloween package. This little girl makes some of the crappy days a lot better.
Like I said, the cutest kid in town…seen here on her first birthday. Fun fact, she was born on my dad’s birthday, June 14th. Get those flags out!
Those of you who know me well know that I don’t give up any chance to write on whiteboards and use them to make all kinds of seemingly important lists. This is a rough sketch of a redesign of the water system in town I did on our whiteboard in the office…I had lots of fun with all the colors and stuff, but it turns out we don’t have money to do the redesign, so sadly I had to erase it. But at least I have this awesome picture. And I also bought a tiny whiteboard for my room in my house, so now I can rest easy with all of my tasks noted and color-coded.
This was a wedding I attended back in June in Hárdeman. The nice lady who washes my clothes, Doña Nena, invited me to her parents’ wedding, who are an elderly couple but finally decided to get married. Here’s how the conversation went down:
Nena: Hello Benjamín, how are you?
Me: Fine Doña Nena, how are you?
Nena: No complaints here. It’s hot isn’t it?
Me: Yeah it is hot. Dusty too, huh?
Nena: Yeah damn this dust. When are they going to finish the stinking asphalt road?
(My brain): So much for no complaints.
Nena: Anyway, I would like to invite you to my parents’ wedding on Saturday, they are finally getting married after all of these years. We would be honored with your presence.
Me: Wow Doña Nena, that’s very nice of you, of course I can come.
Nena: Oh, and you’re going to bring your camera, right?
(My brain): Ah. The truth comes out.
Me: Sure, I can take some pictures for you, thanks for thinking of me.
Nena: Great, see you then!
Me: Good-bye!
The truth is, since I know these folks and they are my friends, I don’t mind taking pictures for them. Anymore, I consider it part of my service. So, that’s how I found myself in this tiny chapel in the nuns’ house attending this wedding. About 10 close family members and some poofy haired gringo taking pictures. And that’s not even the best part of the story. That would be the priest. After arriving over an hour late to start the ceremony, he was a little rusty on how it all went down, so Sister Ana (the nun you see in photo) had to coach him. She obviously knew what was up, but since women can’t perform Mass or weddings in the Catholic Church, they had to bring in this obviously extremely inexperienced priest from out of town who didn’t even know these people. How do I know he didn’t know them? Well, about 2/3 of the way through the ceremony after referring to the bride as “Don Manuel’s woman,” he finally broke down and asked her name, and then promptly forgot it. I was appalled. Some days I just don’t get how people here can call themselves religious and keep a straight face. But, that’s a whole different conversation for another place and time, best after a couple of drinks.
I was lucky enough to have Carlos come and visit in Hárdeman to help me drill a well, and here he is preparing some yummy macaroni and cheese in the kitchen at my house. During one of the days it was too cold to drill, Carlos and I went to the plaza to shoot the bull about possibly putting together a huge-scale long-term well drilling project in my municipality. It was a great discussion, something I think I’ve been lacking down here in Bolivia…an opportunity to bounce ideas off of someone and also listen to their ideas. We started out on benches but after a few minutes I needed to stand up because I think better on my feet, as some of you may remember from a Steering meeting long ago in the basement of the Ohio Union. Carlos loves to sneak candid pictures, and here is one of me surely coming up with an amazing idea.
Another photo Carlos snuck in. This is me explaining to my good friend Pedro how we can try to improve his well that we drilled for him…perhaps by putting a windmill on it. Carlos has quite the artistic eye.
This is what we would refer to as a bad-hair-day. After a few days of no bathing (because of the cold) and being stuck under my hat, here’s what escaped from underneath. I can hear my mom gasping right now…”Oh my GOD, Ben!” Another quote from my mom regarding my hair from when I was in the states…”uh, if you’re looking for opinions…I think you should cut it.”
This is my attempt at being artistic. I threw my OSU hat on top of my dresser after a long day of muddy drilling and I thought it looked cool set in front of the Dark Side of the Moon backdrop.
This is my host cousin Inés and her boyfriend Fernando…we were celebrating Fernando’s birthday with some yummy food and a few vasos de cerveza. This was definitely a fun night.
This one’s for you, Joe Ranz. So my family is having a new kitchen built, which makes me happy because the current kitchen is pretty disgusting. Surprisingly, drywall has not made it to Hárdeman yet, so I was delighted to see them plastering the ceiling. Certainly reminded me of working back home, except they mix in an old half-tire and don’t really use moulding or hawks as far as I can tell, which means nothing to most of you. I was going to offer my services but the scaffolding looked pretty sketchy, plus I’m sure they would look at me funny when I asked them why we weren’t checking it with a light.
Note how my hair is nice and confined under the hat. Here’s what happens when the hat comes off:
They say it’s been colder this year than in years past and I frankly am ready for it to be warm all the time now. Drilling wells in chilly, windy weather with only a cold shower awaiting me at the end of the day is not my idea of a good time. Here are some random shots of people and places around town.
I was totally pumped to see this girl wearing an OSU sweatshirt, especially one depicting the 1997 Rose Bowl, where Joe Germaine led the Bucks past Arizona State in a glorious come-from-behind victory. Great memories of watching that game in Scott’s basement with Skyline dip and Mary Jane’s Oreo Goop. Mmmmm.
How’s that for a pig? This thing was so huge I could not resist a picture. People in my town just have these pigs living in their yards like dogs (not so much as pets but just roaming freely). Mom, remember when you used to say you’d rather have a pig than a dog? Care to reconsider?
On top of the water tank on the day I got inside and helped our plumber Francisco clean the tank. This was a pretty fun time cause it was actually hot outside and it was nice and refreshing to be playing around in the water inside the tank.
The cutest kid in town, my host-niece Tahira, goofing around with some costume glasses sent down from Aunt Joyce in a Halloween package. This little girl makes some of the crappy days a lot better.
Like I said, the cutest kid in town…seen here on her first birthday. Fun fact, she was born on my dad’s birthday, June 14th. Get those flags out!
Those of you who know me well know that I don’t give up any chance to write on whiteboards and use them to make all kinds of seemingly important lists. This is a rough sketch of a redesign of the water system in town I did on our whiteboard in the office…I had lots of fun with all the colors and stuff, but it turns out we don’t have money to do the redesign, so sadly I had to erase it. But at least I have this awesome picture. And I also bought a tiny whiteboard for my room in my house, so now I can rest easy with all of my tasks noted and color-coded.
This was a wedding I attended back in June in Hárdeman. The nice lady who washes my clothes, Doña Nena, invited me to her parents’ wedding, who are an elderly couple but finally decided to get married. Here’s how the conversation went down:
Nena: Hello Benjamín, how are you?
Me: Fine Doña Nena, how are you?
Nena: No complaints here. It’s hot isn’t it?
Me: Yeah it is hot. Dusty too, huh?
Nena: Yeah damn this dust. When are they going to finish the stinking asphalt road?
(My brain): So much for no complaints.
Nena: Anyway, I would like to invite you to my parents’ wedding on Saturday, they are finally getting married after all of these years. We would be honored with your presence.
Me: Wow Doña Nena, that’s very nice of you, of course I can come.
Nena: Oh, and you’re going to bring your camera, right?
(My brain): Ah. The truth comes out.
Me: Sure, I can take some pictures for you, thanks for thinking of me.
Nena: Great, see you then!
Me: Good-bye!
The truth is, since I know these folks and they are my friends, I don’t mind taking pictures for them. Anymore, I consider it part of my service. So, that’s how I found myself in this tiny chapel in the nuns’ house attending this wedding. About 10 close family members and some poofy haired gringo taking pictures. And that’s not even the best part of the story. That would be the priest. After arriving over an hour late to start the ceremony, he was a little rusty on how it all went down, so Sister Ana (the nun you see in photo) had to coach him. She obviously knew what was up, but since women can’t perform Mass or weddings in the Catholic Church, they had to bring in this obviously extremely inexperienced priest from out of town who didn’t even know these people. How do I know he didn’t know them? Well, about 2/3 of the way through the ceremony after referring to the bride as “Don Manuel’s woman,” he finally broke down and asked her name, and then promptly forgot it. I was appalled. Some days I just don’t get how people here can call themselves religious and keep a straight face. But, that’s a whole different conversation for another place and time, best after a couple of drinks.
I was lucky enough to have Carlos come and visit in Hárdeman to help me drill a well, and here he is preparing some yummy macaroni and cheese in the kitchen at my house. During one of the days it was too cold to drill, Carlos and I went to the plaza to shoot the bull about possibly putting together a huge-scale long-term well drilling project in my municipality. It was a great discussion, something I think I’ve been lacking down here in Bolivia…an opportunity to bounce ideas off of someone and also listen to their ideas. We started out on benches but after a few minutes I needed to stand up because I think better on my feet, as some of you may remember from a Steering meeting long ago in the basement of the Ohio Union. Carlos loves to sneak candid pictures, and here is one of me surely coming up with an amazing idea.
Another photo Carlos snuck in. This is me explaining to my good friend Pedro how we can try to improve his well that we drilled for him…perhaps by putting a windmill on it. Carlos has quite the artistic eye.
This is what we would refer to as a bad-hair-day. After a few days of no bathing (because of the cold) and being stuck under my hat, here’s what escaped from underneath. I can hear my mom gasping right now…”Oh my GOD, Ben!” Another quote from my mom regarding my hair from when I was in the states…”uh, if you’re looking for opinions…I think you should cut it.”
This is my attempt at being artistic. I threw my OSU hat on top of my dresser after a long day of muddy drilling and I thought it looked cool set in front of the Dark Side of the Moon backdrop.
This is my host cousin Inés and her boyfriend Fernando…we were celebrating Fernando’s birthday with some yummy food and a few vasos de cerveza. This was definitely a fun night.
This one’s for you, Joe Ranz. So my family is having a new kitchen built, which makes me happy because the current kitchen is pretty disgusting. Surprisingly, drywall has not made it to Hárdeman yet, so I was delighted to see them plastering the ceiling. Certainly reminded me of working back home, except they mix in an old half-tire and don’t really use moulding or hawks as far as I can tell, which means nothing to most of you. I was going to offer my services but the scaffolding looked pretty sketchy, plus I’m sure they would look at me funny when I asked them why we weren’t checking it with a light.
Quality Time Spent Out of Site
Knowing that it is sometimes a challenge to stay sane and calm with what can get to be the trying and lonely life of the Bolivian campo, the Peace Corps is kind enough to give us five days a month that we can use as personal days which don’t count as vacation days. These are days we can use to go into the city to do some shopping for things we can’t get in our sites, take out money and maybe see some other gringos and speak some English. We are also allowed to spend our out-of-site time in another volunteer’s site, hanging out with them and meeting the folks in their town. While it is important to be in our sites as much as possible, it’s also important for our emotional health to be able to get out for a bit if we need to. I try to limit my time out-of-site but an escape is nice every once-in-awhile. Here are some photos of some out-of-site activities.
This is Rudy and me after a long days hike in the rain. This was definitely a cleansing, refreshing and much needed day of hiking with a good friend. This hike recharged me like no other, despite the rain and cold.
Hanging out with my compadito Carlitos on the plaza in Santa Cruz city. It’s really a great plaza and heavily guarded by guards who don’t let you put your feet on the benches. Carlos and I are trying to plan a trip to his native Colombia for Christmas, so hopefully that will work out. He has not been back in five years, so it will be quite a homecoming for him.
That same day, we saw this guy taking old school photos for 5 pesos. He set it all up and we had stand there still for like 6 seconds while he uncovered the lens and let sunlight in and then covered it back up and developed it for us right there on site…the precursor to those photobooths you see in the mall. It was crazy.
This is my good pal Josh (from Maine) who unfortunately was spending some of his out-of-site time in the hospital in Santa Cruz with some nasty stomach problems. Fortunately for Josh, the lush hospital the PC puts us up in Santa Cruz comes complete with flat screen TV and DVD player, yummy food, and even some nice leather couches for his friends to sit on while they visit him…check it out:
Does this look like a hospital room to you? I think not!
After a long and arduous process, Carlos finally got his long-term VISA so he can legally stay and work in Bolivia…he has been given the run-around by the Bolivian immigration people for about a year now, so it was a big deal when it all finally came through. That’s one happy Colombian.
One Saturday in June a few of us met up in Okinawa, where my friend Rudy is stationed. Okinawa is interestingly enough a Japanese colony right here in Bolivia, whose history is interesting but I won’t go into here. They were having a Japanese festival and this crazy ball rolling thing was one of their activities.
It strangely reminded me of that ridiculous show that my dad watches in the middle of the night with the Japanese people doing ludicrous stunts and competitions. Quite entertaining. After the festival we got on to tossing some Frisbee around, which is a favorite pastime of us gringos.
After a yummy dinner, we headed out to Japanese Karaoke, where we successfully cleared out the place when we arrived. But we didn’t care, we sung anyway. Here’s Rudy and Andy putting on a heartbreaking rendition of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”
And here’s the huge beer they gave me on the house after I scored a perfect 100 by performing “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”
I’m not sure what they were scoring on, but I was glad to get a free drink the size of a small country to share with my friends.
This is Rudy and me after a long days hike in the rain. This was definitely a cleansing, refreshing and much needed day of hiking with a good friend. This hike recharged me like no other, despite the rain and cold.
Hanging out with my compadito Carlitos on the plaza in Santa Cruz city. It’s really a great plaza and heavily guarded by guards who don’t let you put your feet on the benches. Carlos and I are trying to plan a trip to his native Colombia for Christmas, so hopefully that will work out. He has not been back in five years, so it will be quite a homecoming for him.
That same day, we saw this guy taking old school photos for 5 pesos. He set it all up and we had stand there still for like 6 seconds while he uncovered the lens and let sunlight in and then covered it back up and developed it for us right there on site…the precursor to those photobooths you see in the mall. It was crazy.
This is my good pal Josh (from Maine) who unfortunately was spending some of his out-of-site time in the hospital in Santa Cruz with some nasty stomach problems. Fortunately for Josh, the lush hospital the PC puts us up in Santa Cruz comes complete with flat screen TV and DVD player, yummy food, and even some nice leather couches for his friends to sit on while they visit him…check it out:
Does this look like a hospital room to you? I think not!
After a long and arduous process, Carlos finally got his long-term VISA so he can legally stay and work in Bolivia…he has been given the run-around by the Bolivian immigration people for about a year now, so it was a big deal when it all finally came through. That’s one happy Colombian.
One Saturday in June a few of us met up in Okinawa, where my friend Rudy is stationed. Okinawa is interestingly enough a Japanese colony right here in Bolivia, whose history is interesting but I won’t go into here. They were having a Japanese festival and this crazy ball rolling thing was one of their activities.
It strangely reminded me of that ridiculous show that my dad watches in the middle of the night with the Japanese people doing ludicrous stunts and competitions. Quite entertaining. After the festival we got on to tossing some Frisbee around, which is a favorite pastime of us gringos.
After a yummy dinner, we headed out to Japanese Karaoke, where we successfully cleared out the place when we arrived. But we didn’t care, we sung anyway. Here’s Rudy and Andy putting on a heartbreaking rendition of Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”
And here’s the huge beer they gave me on the house after I scored a perfect 100 by performing “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling”
I’m not sure what they were scoring on, but I was glad to get a free drink the size of a small country to share with my friends.
¡Feliz Cumpleaños, Hárdeman!
To most people I know, July 18th doesn’t really mean much. But here in Hárdeman, it is the anniversary of the founding of the town in 1968. And if it’s one thing Bolivian campesinos take seriously, it’s their town festivals. It doesn’t matter if it’s a big anniversary (25th or 50th) or a small one, it is a big deal. It’s four days of activities and parties that everyone participates in. And Hárdeman has the reputation of being one of the best parties in the area. So needless to say, I was excited to see what all the fuss was about. School was cancelled for the entire week (a bit much, I’d say) and Sunday night the festival kicked off with the election of Miss Hárdeman. This time the contestants were a little older (the youngest being 15 I think), so that was a little better than the Miss San Juan where some of them were sixth graders, but due to my gringo habit of arriving at the time when things are supposed to start, there was enough time for them to rope me into being a judge for the pageant. There were seven or eight contestants, competing in three different categories of clothing as well as answering a few Hárdeman-related questions. A girl named Gabriella won, with my host cousin Yhesenia coming in a close second. Here’s a shot of me and Miss Hárdeman a couple of days later:
Monday was a pretty low-key day, but things picked up that night. My friends Rudy and Kevin showed up to enjoy the festivities and we headed out to the big concert they were having with some excellent musicians promised to be there. My host brother Pepe was put in charge of bringing one of the groups called “Raices” (which means “Roots”) and that night they showed up at our house to shower and get ready for the show, so it was pretty cool to “meet the band.” They were great guys and put on an awesome show…they were two guys with acoustic guitars and a singer, so I really liked it. Here’s a shot of me with the band, along with some moronic high school kids doing the bunny-ears from behind, a guaranteed addition to any photo taken in Bolivia. It just never gets old for them. Kind of pissed me off because it’s a pretty good picture aside from that.
From right: Sergio, Carlos, Me, Henry and some drunk dude I don’t know. I went to see these guys again at a bar in Santa Cruz and they remembered me when I walked in, which impressed my friends to no end. Here’s a shot of some of my host cousins enjoying the tunes Raices was putting out:
And Rudy, Kevin and myself hanging out with my pal Sambu…who is deaf and mute so communicating with him is always interesting:
In addition to Raices there was another singer there who sang Chaquarera music, which is from the dry, southern region of the country called the Chaco. The Chaco is very rich with culture and the cowboy lifestyle, and the music is absolutely excellent, without a doubt the best Bolivian music. This lady was a great entertainer (or entertainress?) and put on a fantastic show. Telling jokes between songs and really just getting into it with the crowd. She loved it and everyone loved her. Even some of the youngest citizens in Hárdeman even got into the mix:
Just so you know, that’s not soda.
We spent the next couple of nights dancing and sharing and just having a good ‘ol time. The good musicians left after that first night, so we were stuck with an extremely average Bolivian band, but it wasn’t all bad. Everyone in town got a kick out of watching us gringos dancing. Especially Rudy, who is pretty much the best dancer I’ve ever met. I paired him up with my friend Maritza, who is also a very good dancer:
They had a great time cutting the rug together and I can’t tell you how many people came up to me afterwards to comment on how fun it was to watch them and asked me when Rudy is coming back. Good times.
Instead of having rides, they brought in a bunch of foosball tables and a couple of trampolines, which we took advantage of. Here’s Rudy flying through the air with the greatest of ease:
On the actual day of the anniversary, they had a little parade in town. Nothing much compared to say, the Harvest Home Parade, but fun regardless. Here I am in the parade with the rest of the folks from the Water Cooperative:
(parade)
Overall, it was a really fun few days. I couldn’t help but constantly make comparisons to the St. Ignatius Festival or Harvest Home Fair back home. Staying up late and enjoying the company of some great folks and rejoicing in the founding of mi querido pueblito Hárdeman. I leave you with a few shots of hanging out with friends throughout the week:
Monday was a pretty low-key day, but things picked up that night. My friends Rudy and Kevin showed up to enjoy the festivities and we headed out to the big concert they were having with some excellent musicians promised to be there. My host brother Pepe was put in charge of bringing one of the groups called “Raices” (which means “Roots”) and that night they showed up at our house to shower and get ready for the show, so it was pretty cool to “meet the band.” They were great guys and put on an awesome show…they were two guys with acoustic guitars and a singer, so I really liked it. Here’s a shot of me with the band, along with some moronic high school kids doing the bunny-ears from behind, a guaranteed addition to any photo taken in Bolivia. It just never gets old for them. Kind of pissed me off because it’s a pretty good picture aside from that.
From right: Sergio, Carlos, Me, Henry and some drunk dude I don’t know. I went to see these guys again at a bar in Santa Cruz and they remembered me when I walked in, which impressed my friends to no end. Here’s a shot of some of my host cousins enjoying the tunes Raices was putting out:
And Rudy, Kevin and myself hanging out with my pal Sambu…who is deaf and mute so communicating with him is always interesting:
In addition to Raices there was another singer there who sang Chaquarera music, which is from the dry, southern region of the country called the Chaco. The Chaco is very rich with culture and the cowboy lifestyle, and the music is absolutely excellent, without a doubt the best Bolivian music. This lady was a great entertainer (or entertainress?) and put on a fantastic show. Telling jokes between songs and really just getting into it with the crowd. She loved it and everyone loved her. Even some of the youngest citizens in Hárdeman even got into the mix:
Just so you know, that’s not soda.
We spent the next couple of nights dancing and sharing and just having a good ‘ol time. The good musicians left after that first night, so we were stuck with an extremely average Bolivian band, but it wasn’t all bad. Everyone in town got a kick out of watching us gringos dancing. Especially Rudy, who is pretty much the best dancer I’ve ever met. I paired him up with my friend Maritza, who is also a very good dancer:
They had a great time cutting the rug together and I can’t tell you how many people came up to me afterwards to comment on how fun it was to watch them and asked me when Rudy is coming back. Good times.
Instead of having rides, they brought in a bunch of foosball tables and a couple of trampolines, which we took advantage of. Here’s Rudy flying through the air with the greatest of ease:
On the actual day of the anniversary, they had a little parade in town. Nothing much compared to say, the Harvest Home Parade, but fun regardless. Here I am in the parade with the rest of the folks from the Water Cooperative:
(parade)
Overall, it was a really fun few days. I couldn’t help but constantly make comparisons to the St. Ignatius Festival or Harvest Home Fair back home. Staying up late and enjoying the company of some great folks and rejoicing in the founding of mi querido pueblito Hárdeman. I leave you with a few shots of hanging out with friends throughout the week:
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