I bought a new sponge. You know, the yellow ones with about half an inch of the dense, scratchy, green stuff on one side: The good kind. I find myself with a new zest for dishwashing. I've never minded washing dishes before. Goodness no. But the high I get now... The power trip from scraping off tough grime with ease. It flees screaming from the dense, scratchy, green stuff of death. Life is better with a good sponge.



My best friend from high school came to visit. She brought color to my life in the form of freshly cut flowers and singing in the kitchen. We made a box, entirely out of reused materials, for the raising of worms who will eat my organic waste. We were duped by a street vendor in La Paz, but his product really was amazing and magical from the right angle, and we walked away laughing with not one, not two, but THREE of said stupendous product. We made friends with a kid (the furry animal kind) who butted Nicole in the crotch while trying to nurse as I pointed and laughed. Karma caught up to me later when I sat on an invisible cactus at the dried-up pond we discovered. We climbed to the very top of the waterfalls and higher, realized we had thirty minutes until sunset, and tried to scramble back down the mountain while battling distractions such as praying mantis sex (I wanted to see her eat him!) and an unopened package of chocolate cookies perched atop a cactus leaf (There just wasn't time to ponder that one before stuffing them in our bag). We saw Jupiter and four of its 63 moons, Saturn and its rings, a black nebula (with the naked eye!) and the triple-star system Alpha Centauri at the free observatory outside my town (one of our greater discoveries). We read Mom's letters and laughed aloud at the "golls" and "goshes." We survived Gas Crisis 2007, which was much like Water Crisis 2007 but more personal. (Fortunately, my personal Gas Crisis 2007 preceded the actual gas crisis going on right now with hundreds of people waiting in lines with their gas tanks for hours and hours.) Thanks to Nicole, I am now infatuated with the wonders of freshly baked bread. She also gave me a sharp kitchen knife and cutting boards. Do you realize that I had adapted to holding vegges in my hand while slicing with a blunt knife? And you pretty much have to cut towards yourself, as Dad taught me never to do. It's all fun and games until someone loses a finger; and in that sense, a sharp knife and a cutting board can make such a difference.

(Volunteers and their Bolivian counterparts at Katie Gordon's workshop in Cochabamba.)

It seems like a lot of playing, but I've probably done more work in the last two-something months than in the rest of my service. Remember the HIV/AIDS workshop to which I asked you to donate? Well, I went to that with two Bolivian profesoras. Upon returning to Valle, we gave a small presentation to a group of parents and teachers, just to give them the opportunity to tell us not to preach the wonders of condoms to their kids. There were no objections, so we replicated the workshop in my high school with four different classes: Three were made up of 13- and 14-year-olds and the other was the graduating class. On the first day, the two profes and I presented a brief overview of (1) what HIV/AIDS is, (2) how the virus is transmitted, (3) how transmission is prevented, (4) the social factors that encourage transmission and (5) human rights issues associated with the virus. We also discussed worldwide and local statistics of people living with HIV in order to stimulate interest and prove that it is a real issue in Bolivia. After the overview, we divided each class into five groups and gave each group photocopies of information related to one of the five topics mentioned above. We instructed them to plan a ten minute presentation of their topic that would serve to inform their classmates of this topic which, by that point, we could all agree was very important. The idea, of course, was that by presenting and "teaching" the information themselves, the students would gain a greater undertanding of HIV/AIDS and the information would linger in their little minds a little longer than it might otherwise. After greatly stressing our desire for them to be creative with their presentations and use tactics such as skits, games, mock interviews, something OTHER than oral reports, we dismissed them for the weekend, adding that we (the profes) would each be available during their preparation time to answer any questions and provide suggestions.

I will spare you the gruesome details and simply say that the younger kids were very disappointing, and I returned home the day of their presentations in such a depressed and dejected state that not even my new sponge could cheer me up. The graduating class, however, did exceptionally well. There were skits and condom demonstrations and intelligent questions and conversation! By the end of it all, it was clear to the profes and I that to present this information most effectively in the future we would have to find a better target group. The problem is that between what would be the equivalent of Freshman year and Senior year of high school the class size dwindles to about a third of what it began as. Therefore, a little thought will have to be put towards what age group we should present to in order to achieve maximal comprehension of the topic as well as maximal audience size.



In addition to the HIV/AIDS workshops, I've been educating PAN centers in super-rural communities about the wonders of handwashing with soap. I invited two volunteers from Cochabamba to help me do puppet shows and present a very simplified version of germ theory to the cooks, teachers, and parents. The puppet shows, of course, were a hit with both adults and kids, which was the idea. Even if the tiny children didn't get the message they would still be visually stimulated by the puppets, and the adults would receive the information in an entertaining way. I felt like a soap salesperson doing the germ spiel, but hopefully I got the point across. At the end, we gave each center a bunch of little hotel soaps that they promised to use, and we went on our merry way. I'm currently working on convincing Carlos to convince the central PAN office in Tarija to add soap to the monthly supplies each center receives. Until I achieve that feat, any soap donations would be greatly appreciated.



The reading club continues. I've had a few new members in the last months, and I've convinced one particularly ambitious girl to begin reading her first chapter book! I remember my first chapter book, "The Bears Upstairs", and what a gratifying feeling it gave me to finish it. It may even have been more gratifying than my new sponge. Just imagine.



Until next time, which promises to come sooner than this time did, I wish each of you the appreciation of one of life's simple pleasures. Whether it be an old friend or a new sponge, there's always something to smile about.



[And if you ever get the chance to play host(ess) to Nicole, she makes delicious bread and does a killer impression of an avocado.]