The Golden Years...

Well, again, this place affords me the time and opportunity to reflect.   The Golden Years....when do they begin?   Am I in them?  Hah!  Absolutely.  But I can't think of a better way to celebrate than by being here.  I love the novelty and the absolute wackiness of living here.  I love experiencing just a teeny bit of the hard life folks here live every day.  I am fortunate to have the physical ability to do so.  This is not a sacrifice at all, for i know that I can return to my privileged life at home.  Maybe I am contributing in some small way.  But I know for sure the experience over the years has opened my eyes and changed me for the better.  

I walked today, downnn the mountain to town, about 2 miles.  Curvy roads, steep streets, pot holes, water streaming down the streets from who knows where, rocks and construction always, everywhere.   I had to go under and around barbed wire for a blocked off street.  I feared getting lost if I veered from the only way I know.   But at the other end, the old cathedral,  Parque Central, and the markets and shops.  

I read in the park for awhile, again people watching, wondering about their lives, and reflecting.

 I continued downnnn another mile to Jan and Pablo's house in the heart of the noisy, boisterous people's market.   Life takes such effort here. Nothing is fast or easy.  Takes all day to come to town to shop, for a few fresh vegetables, a live chicken, tortillas.   Then somehow you go home to your simple hut to cook a meal from scratch.   There are few choices here, little variety.   There are no blueberries, cherries, raspberries or Greek yogurt.   I eat these everyday.   There is no cottage cheese or cake mixes.  Milk is not plentiful, and comes in a wax carton.   After stopping to visit with Jan, I start the walk back, hoping to catch a taxi.

Thankfully, I meet Pedro and I get a free ride back up the hill to the clinic and my comfy room.  

 It is hot, and the exertion can get the best of one!

 A short siesta is in order!    Walking up the hill, in the afternoon, at this elevation can tax a Golden Year citizen!  As I sit in the big waiting room of the clinic, the wind picks up and tho it is sunny to the right, the big clouds are moving rapidly over the mountains, and there is a huge downpour.  It is like this at this time of the year, lots of downpours, daily rains.   Time to pause.  

I will fix my own meals today.  I figured out the propane stove, and how to wash and rinse dishes, in 2 separate tubs of soapy and rinse water with bleach.  Everything must be washed and disinfected.  Purified water must be used for everything.   There is a small refrigerator and microwave, in Spanish .  The utensils are ancient, broken, wobbly, rusted, etc.  No Pampered chef here...   Dishes are plastic, or chipped china.  Pots have no handles, the salt clumps from the humidity.  But, amazingly, the food prepared here is clean, fresh, delicious.   Do we really need more??

Well, again, some thoughts for the day.   I am going to work on my Bible study and listen to the hard rain on the tin roof.   

Not sure who Hannah Whitall Smith is, but she wrote the following.  It was my little daily saying the other day....

  When the soul is full of peace and joy, outward surroundings and circumstances are of comparatively little account.  

Could not be more appropriate for me in this time and place.   Hope you find your peace, as well.

Hermana Carolina 

These are the children in the hut next door to the clinic.   There are 8 of them..Lizbet, Luis, Josue, Jocelin,  Jessica  and more...  We talk in the evenings.   They are clean and bright.  I am encouraging them to read, as the strike continues.   They eat a meal early PM, and then just have cafe' con leche, maybe, for supper.  I share my apple slices.  Luis made his own kite, out of thin pieces of plastic and string and twigs.   It is windy now, and kite flying season.  Awesome!