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Stephanie Manier I have been blessed with the opportunity to travel to Cochabamba for three years now. Working with some of the same people and children has allowed me to make some of the most meaningful connections that I have ever made with some amazing people. This year as we went out to the dump near Tiquipaya I met up with the family of boys I played soccer with last year ( they beat me easily). To have them come up and hug you warmly and walk right by you wanting to be close. To see that look of unconditional love and to laugh with those kids … Clismar, Gersom, Christian, and Jjordan have a very special place in my heart. One of the things that has surprised me over the years is the fact that the Bolivian prisons seem to be the calling of where I need to be. I spend time in two prisons… San Sebastian and San Antonio. Men in these prisons bring their families with them. They are still expected to support their families with what they can do from inside. They pay rent for shacks and if they don’t pay rent they sleep out in the courtyard. The prisons don’t supply them with food so if they have no family to bring them food they don’t eat. One of the projects my mom and I work on is humanizing the prisons. We brought in medicine, dental kits, and clothing for the children. As we were handing things out one dad had a little baby boy about 12 months old. I started making silly faces and playing peek a boo. The laugh of the father and the giggling of the little boy touched my soul. Last year at this same place a man introduced me to his elderly uncle who had tears streaming down his face when I smiled and shook his hand. Now, I’m not entirely naïve and I remember where I am at all times and I’m smart about the situations I get into, but the prisons are a place where children and their families need help and I can’t imagine a better place for me to be. Last year I spent some time at Maria Corazon… the school for disabled children in a town just outside of Cochabamba. There I met a little boy named Fabio who couldn’t speak or maintain eye contact. He was about 2-3 years old and his arms and legs were almost constantly in a seizure. This year as soon as I saw him I said Hola Fabio! He looked over at me for just a second and his sweet smile was priceless. I got a chance to work with him and feed him and every time I would hum Fabio’s face would light up with a smile. Although he couldn’t speak… that smile said it all every time.
Emotionally this was the best year for me. It has taken me two prior trips to learn how to deal with the jumble of emotions you experience. I used to try to fight back tears and tough it out. Now I know that there are times you need to step outside or take a moment and just cry…. You need to. You see and hear and feel so much so fast that you need to let yourself cry, pull it together, and hug and smile and laugh and shake hands the rest of the time.
I usually have a rough time coming home. I feel guilty for all that I have when there are so many who are in need. You just do the best you can to help as many people as you can. For me developing my pictures helps me come to terms with leaving and adjusting back.
One of the changes I have made in my life since going to Cochabamba is the acceptance that when I leave each year I leave a part of my heart with the people I love. I am working towards Spanish fluency and I know that I will continue to travel to Bolivia for the rest of my life. I had traveled to other countries before, but Bolivia won’t let me go. Because of my experiences in Cochabamba and the surrounding cities I’ve started a culture club at the middle school where I work. My hope is that kids will see the amazing diversity this world has to offer.
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