Loving Life in Surce

Built on what seems like a permanent gradient, Sucre stands out amongst the dusty mountains of Bolivia like chalk on a freshly dusted blackboard. Each house is coated crisply in white paint, by order of the local council/government, as are the host of ornate Catholic churches and the city´s stunning Cathedral, City Hall and University, creating a unique antique quality to the idyllic city.

Situated directly parallel to the central Plaza our school is disguised by it´s obedience to the ¨white rule¨. What marks it out is the large brightly coloured sign hanging above a brown tarnished door (not so recently painted or oiled- you actually have to kick, repeatedly, to get in) which reads Spanish Lessons with foreign abruptness. Under this sign a stream of ¨greengos¨ flood every morning at 8am. Amongst the early birds are of course the Soul Touchers!

To be honest the lessons were slightly frustrating for us both to begin with. Neither of us understanding the language very well or the teacher who insists on speaking Spanish (imagine ´n´ we´re in Bolivia too!) all the time. However, since our last post these lessons have turned out to be the highlight of our day. Apart from the thirty minute hike (we live at the bottom of the gradient!) in the crispness of each morning, we look forward to going to school. The four hours of grammar go by surprisingly quickly after which we contently descend back down the hill for lunch with our (host) family. Each day we excitedly recite what we have learned and sweetly they respond, whether they understand or not is disputable but they are too polite to correct us and they are unbelievably patient. We love them!


The family are part of the reason our time here in Bolivia has improved so distinctly . Not only do they include us in trips to the local swimming pool, involve us in every family activity and take us to church with them but last week they even took us to a local football match. Bolivian football is a real experience. Imagine firecrackers popping sporadically for no apparent reason, whether a goal is scored or not; a constant stream of candies, nuts and fizzy drinks being brought to your seat (or at least the piece of polystyrene you purchased for 20 centavos at the entrance gate to the ground) courtesy of the children (yes children) who sell these refreshments throughout the whole game.


The game itself is not nearly as entertaining as it´s spectators who shout orders incessantly at the players - who even I (admittedly I know nothing about football) notice are playing badly. As the final whistle blows (still 0-0) the really strange entertainment begins. The crowd, women, children and all, proceed to throw things at the large inflatable tunnel through which the professionals depart from the pitch. Thankfully all glass bottles are banned and confiscated at the entrance.

Outside the grounds the typically Bolivian market continues. Ladies dressed in pleated skirts (matching their neatly pleated hair which is tied mostly with pompoms) sell ice drinks. I watch, particularly engrossed at the way they crush ice under a press, spun by hand, before drenching it in colourful sweeteners and handing them out to the queue of little ones patiently waiting, coins in their cosy hands. The youngsters guzzle the cold drinks despite being dressed for winter: wearing woollen hats, gloves and jackets. Meanwhile their parents barter at stalls laden with fresh fruit and hot Chorizo (a typically Bolivian sausage, which is delicious!).

Lorna and I stick closely to Emilio- the father of our host family. An English Professor, Emilio translates everything for us. However, fortunately and unfortunately, we only have the pleasure of his company at weekends as he works in another city, Oruro, during the week (eight,very long hours,away on a bus ). I say fortunately because his absence forces us to speak Spanish with his adorable, expectant wife, (their fourth baby is due in May) Marisol and their other three angelic children. Unfortunately, because Emilio is really an amazing, generous and fun host.

While he is gone we enjoy time with Marisole and her seven siblings who all live here in Sucre with their families, all of whom visit daily. Being thrust into this busy, incredibly welcoming family has been a real blessing, despite the language difference, which I´m pleased to announce is lessening day by day!

Furthermore Cynthia, our new ¨profesora¨ is a Christian and kindly obliges in teaching us vocabulary we will need to survive the next six months working in churches around South America. She is convinced, as am I, that words such as ¨Dios¨and ¨Rey¨ (God and King) will be more useful in the months ahead than the language typically asked for by students passing through this sweet little city on their way to the popular salt mines and beautiful mountains.

So all in all we´re loving our time here. It´s intense. God continues to use and test us despite our lack of Spanish. We are learning (slowly) and last night we even attempted to watch a movie in Spanish. We really did have the best of intentions. We even entered the little ¨tienda¨ (shop) decorated with photocopies of recently released films. The only problem was that when we asked for the film the shop owner disappeared through to the back of the shop to download it. So we didn´t get to see our film in Spanish or English but were hoping it´ll be finshed downloading by tonight ´n´ we´re buying in popcorn just incase.

Life is different here but we know this is where are supposed to be. No doubt there will be lessons to learn...for us all so keep in touch!

Love you all. Erica in Sucre xxx