Only one week remains before I end my time in Bolivia and start my time in Colombia. It's a big time of transition. The truth is, I do transition a lot in my life. It's almost a hobby of mine, really, and I am getting pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. Still, this one is unique.

I am very excited about my job in Colombia. I have wanted to go there for a long time now, so I am thrilled about the opportunity to work there. On top of that, I'm also thrilled about my job there. It sounds like something that I will really enjoy. Still, it's a big commitment, with much more responsibility; it's four times as long as my current time in Bolivia. Needless to say, I'm anxiously watching the days go by.

However, up until now, my time in Bolivia has been the biggest, longest international adventure of my life. I have been here longer than all my previous international trips before combined. I have had an amazing experience with my host family and with my friends at the local church. I have shared birthday parties, weddings, funerals, graduations, sports games, family vacations, and much more. They have become such a big part of my life. On top of that, there are the kids at Talita Cumi. Each and every one of them is special to me. Of course, it's an understatement to say it won't be easy for me to leave Bolivia.

Basically, the biggest adventure I have ever finished and the biggest adventure I have ever started will happen on the same day. Obviously, there are mixed emotions. Sometimes I can't wait for the 28th to come. Other days life feels like a fine bottle of wine being poured down my throat, way too fast to enjoy all the rich flavors. Así es la vida.

Here in Latin America, you often hear about machismo, or chauvinism. It's one of those rare discussions where I tend to listen a lot, and contribute little, since my position both as a foreigner and a male put me in the "learner" category. So, I'm not about to write a big analysis of machismo in Santa Cruz. I do, however, notice that there is a strong, explicit use of female sexuality in advertising here. The other day on the bus, though, I also thought about how it's funny that they still give preference to women (often pregnant or elderly) for the best seats on the bus. Perhaps there are some mixed messages there, but again, I'm not the best analyst.

While it may not be a perfect analogy, it really got me thinking about the good and bad in every system. Sometimes, we try to point at a good characteristic to justify a corrupt or oppressive system. It's like justifying slavery, because the slave owners took good care of their slaves, so they were better off. Or saying at least the wage-slaves in the factory have enough to buy rice at the end of the day. Or that at least corporate power results in big donations to charities. Or at least the man buys nice things for the woman he treats like an object.

These are all nice benefits. But in the end, no amount of perks can justify something that strips people of their dignity. This is another reason why I disagree with (among other things) the idea that the generosity of those who have should be the solution for those who are denied.

One of the things you learn pretty quickly when coming to a place like Santa Cruz is who the rival soccer teams are. In Santa Cruz, the big match up is Oriente vs. Blooming. (If you think it's odd that a Spanish soccer team is called Blooming, then you're not alone. But that's not the point). So, yesterday Santa Cruz hosted the clasico, and I had a friend here who wanted me to go. Aubrey, one of the other Bolivian SALTers who works about 10 hours away from here, was here for her last visit before I leave for Colombia. On top of that, it was Sunday afternoon, and I wanted to go home and rest for a while, instead of going to wait in line for a couple of hours. Maybe I missed out on a big opportunity, but I was glad to relax and spend time with Aubrey. Besides, Oriente lost, and my friend must have been devastated.

Today was actually kind of a rough day. It was Monday, and I was "angsty" as the Abernathy family would say. But, I got through the day knowing that Bob and Denise Friesen (a missionary couple that help at TC) were going to take Dovanna and me out for a nice dinner. Denise is really a life-saver for me at TC. She's always so encouraging and positive and energetic when she comes (Tues, Thurs, Fri), and those days invariable are so much better. Bob, among other things, coaches basketball at the Christian Learner Center here. So, of course, they are pretty into March Madness, and the championship game tonight.

Early on in the dinner, then, they said, "So you know, there's the big game tonight. Do you guys know about the big game?" I game them a genuinely confused look and said to them, "Well, I know last night Oriente and Blooming played."

I wasn't sure if I should think I've been here too long or if I should take it as a sign that I'm integrating well. I decided to go for the latter.

Also, they bought me a new belt. They are amazing.

Sometimes Easter weekend passes and I don't really notice it much, except I get an extra Friday off. This year, however, I did a little more reflecting. And if you're reading my blog, I assume to some degree you want to hear my reflections, so here it goes.

I think Peter kind of gets a bad rap. I mean sure, he said he'd die before denying Jesus, and then a few hours later he denied Him three times. But, if I were Peter (and obviously I'm not, so this is speculation), I would feel like Jesus abandoned me first. I think Peter was genuine, but he had different ideas of what Jesus' revolution was really going to look like. And when he takes out his sword and cuts off the guards ear, he is demonstrating what he had in mind. He's ready to fight with Jesus to the end. The problem is, Jesus isn't fighting. Instead, He voluntarily lets Himself be captured, tried, and ultimately killed. I think Peter was really ready to follow Jesus, it's just that following Jesus took a shocking and dramatic shift in a few hours. If it were me, on that "good" Friday, I would feel like Jesus denied me. My point is that I don't think we should demonize Peter for what happened, because I think almost all of us would have done the same. And in the end, Jesus seemed to move past it pretty quickly. Maybe so should we.

This led me to think about "good" Friday, and how utterly awful the disciples must have felt. I mean, I cannot imagine the despair they must have experienced, as they must have gone from incredible excitement to complete hopelessness so quickly. I really think it's important to remember that time, between the crucifixion and the resurrection. Now, we know the end of the story and all, but there is something profound about the fact that this suffering and despair is part of the process of our faith. Of the "founding fathers" of our faith, you can say two simple things: Jesus suffered, and the disciples felt hopeless.

Someone once mentioned to me that perhaps the Catholic faith is overly fixated on the dying Jesus. Not that they don't believe in the resurrection or celebrate it or anything like that, but just that Jesus is often depicted and worshipped in his suffering state. I'm not really in a position to judge for certain whether or not that is a bad thing or even whether or not it is true. I did get to go to a small mass in my neighborhood on Friday, and I do feel like the suffering Jesus is more prominent in the Catholic tradition. Perhaps it goes to the simple fact that Jesus suffered at the hands of powerful people, and people in the third world find solidarity in that. In any case, I felt like the service was appropriate, and I enjoyed it.

With these thoughts in mind, I left for the campo Saturday night with the local Mennonite church. We met up with another Mennonite church out there, and together we had a late night service (until 1:00 a.m.), and then had another sunrise service (at 5:00 a.m.). On the Saturday night service, I was expecting more "setting the tone" for the service in the morning. But really, there was almost no mention of the tone of "good" Friday. They talked about the crucifixion, but only in the context of the two thieves, and what Jesus has to offer us. It was like we just rushed past the suffering and went right to the end, instead of recognizing that suffering and despair are integral parts of our faith experience. In the end, I was left with this question: it may be that the Catholic faith is fixated on Jesus' suffering, but are we so fixated on his resurrection that we forget or are unable to contemplate the dark period before it?

In some groups and circles, "solidarity" can be a common buzz word, something you drop here and there for good impressions. It sounds nice and intelligent. You might be in a group like that, and that's not what I'm trying to do on my blog.

The fact is, if you are like I was three years ago (when the word first started coming up for me in conversations), you don't really know what the word means and even less why it should be important in cross cultural relations. Sort of as a funny side note, sometimes, when I don't know what a word means, instead of looking it up in the dictionary (which would be the obvious choice), I kind of choose a word that is close to it and derive a meaning from there (even though the other word has completely different etymology). Needless to say, "solitude," "solitary," and "solitaire," did not provide any great insights.

So, obviously, my own understanding of solidarity and its significance has come about fairly recently, and is something that is now central to my stated motivations for international work.

Basically, (stealing from dictionary.com phrases), it just means a union of interests or purposes; mutual responsibility; or community of feelings. For me and my time here, it means trying to integrate myself into the life of the Bolivians around me, making their interests and feelings also part of my own.

As far as why it's important, as I have mentioned before (see posts here and here), the attitudes we have and the means we use in international work can have a profound effect on whether or not there is a positive influence. Work that comes out of a solidary relationship, rather than some sort of paternalistic approach, is much more likely to be positive.

But solidarity also goes beyond that for me. Paulo Freire (author of Pedagogy of the Oppressed), talks about how the situation for the oppressed is stripping them of their human dignity. Dignity cannot be given to them as a gift (because that ultimately contradicts itself); therefore they must work for it themselves. However, people living in situations of power and privilege are also being stripped of our human dignity because we are being forced into a system which makes us oppressors. And there is no more human dignity in being an oppressor than in being oppressed. Solidarity with the poor, therefore, also helps us to see in ourselves (and in our systems and governments) what we never see from our own perspective.

And so, solidarity actually means two things for me. 1) a supporting role in the struggle of the oppressed for a more just society, and 2) a starring role in my own struggle to see myself, my ideas, points of view, government, culture, etc. for what it really is and to rid myself of the oppressive aspects.