Morning Walks and shopping - a Photo Journal

Our beautiful morning walks 

      

We have the PERFECT morning walk. This is the street right outside our home. You can see the cobblestone street and the walls that surround each block of homes. In this neighborhood you have to knock on the outside door to gain entrance to the front yard and the front door.

This is the block we walk around! It is a little less that a half a mile. One of our first mornings we meet President Jensen, the temple president walking around the temple with a big trash bag in his hand. People love to sit on the lawns outside the temple, and we are also right by a school. Trash accumulates on our beautiful temple landscape, and most mornings President Jensen arises early to clean the temple grounds. But we have also found a joy in picking up the trash BEFORE he gets there. Our help Sonya told us she saw President Jensen wandering around with a confused look one morning - - - we beat him to trash pick up! :)

Saturday morning we were surprised at the SNOW that was left in  the mountains behind our home after a night of rain.

Adventures in shopping.  Finding new things is really a lot of fun!

Grocery shopping has been a fun adventure. Milk comes in bags.

Yogurt comes in bags AND 2 liter bottles! It is delicious

You do not pay extra for brown eggs - they all are brown.

Except for these LITTLE quail eggs.

No, I am not sure WHO would want to eat cold cereal called choko snails,

and I do not know WHY they have canned boiled peanuts.

On Saturdays there is an outdoor market. This Saturday I picked up some fruit that I have no idea what it is - but I know Sonya will know how to fix it for us.  There are lots of strange new things to try.

This boy is pushing our shopping cart! We could not carry it all by hand.

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Just a few more fun Bolivian discoveries -

They DO have carne asada fries here . . .Bolivian style

This is Pike Macho - it is fried potatoes
seasoned spicy meat, and then they add peppers, carrots, HOT DOGS slices, onions tomatoes and of course . . the boiled egg.

And the last discovery - - - a restaurant named Tuesdays  (a lot like Fridays!)

A final story. Friday night we were asked to go to a hospital to visit a teenage boy who was in intensive care.    

A storm had come up that evening, and we struggled a bit finding the hospital in the dark wet weather without a good map. We arrived and the missionaries met us. We were introduced to the mother of the sick boy and President Hansen told her I could not speak Spanish. She looked at me and said (in spanish) she does not need to speak with words, she understands with her spirit. She proceeded to explain all that had happened to her son and I did understand the gist of the story. We then walked into the intensive care unit. A sweet cholita woman (native Bolivian, native dress, black hair in braids down to her waist, scarf in her hair - beautiful woman) came up to the missionaries and asked them if they could do something for HER son. They explained the blessing of the sick and annointing with oil. She asked if they would bless her son. And so President Hansen and the missionaries annointed and blessed this unconscious boy. As they began to pray she looked over at me with huge tears rolling down her cheeks. She edged over and laid her head on my arm (she was too short to reach my shoulder). and she began silently mouthing her prayer along with theirs.  Following the blessing Pres. Hansen invited her to pray for her boy. What a heartful, tearful, loving, faithfilled prayer! After she had finished she looked at me again  and just reached and held on to me.  We left to visit the boy we had come to see. I learned a lot that night. The mother of the boy we had originally come to see was right. Words are not always necessary or even needed.  Sometimes they just get in the way.