Life with Al

9pm, too early to go to bed, what to do, might as well blog, about what? Karina a.k.a Kara a.k.a.

AL

For 19 years old, this fellow Canadian hailing from B.C., has proven that age has nothing to do with maturity...well, almost. Her commitment to God and honest insights have convicted me and caused me to review my own faith on frequent occasions. Her running commentaries on the homes and Bolivian culture are refreshing, but mostly just stinking hilarious.

A cold weather system moved in to the area a couple of weekends ago while we were visiting the home Nacer. Bed space was limited, so we shared. One night she hopped in bed and jumped back out. I asked her what she was doing and she said, "I'm getting the flannel, Marge." To which I responded,"Great, I get to sleep with Al." Henceforth, she has been called Al and she calls me Marge...it doesn't matter why she calls me Marge.

Now, I realize that many of you may not have found the previous ancedote that funny, but Al will be literally delighted to see this blog...or she may literally shake me by the shoulders and literally swear at me in Spanish. She literally uses the word "literally" 30 times in every conversation, I never exaggerate.

One of the problems that comes with learning a second language is that your first language suffers. You start to forget words or replace them with Spanish ones. Doubts over pronounciation and spelling increase. The making up of words, when you are at a loss for them, is not uncommon. One ends up speaking two languages (or three if you count Spanglish), but neither one very well. Maybe this is the excuse we can make for Al's rather unusual prayer not so long ago.

It was the team's last night and we were sent out for 15 minutes with explicit instructions to pray alone and to be quiet. Al and I opted to pray together but still intended to be reverent. We began to pray specifically for people and as Al started to pray, she said with deep passion, "O Gord, we fall at your teeth." Certainly she meant to say, "O God/Lord, we fall at your feet", but something got lost in the brain to mouth transit. Meanwhile, I was thinking "gourd" and envisioning this large, squash deity with dazzling dentures. Needless to say, the sancitity and solemness of the moment was lost.

Al goes back to B.C. in less then 4 weeks. I'm hoping she can sneak me in her suitcase, maybe hide me under her hideous plaid flannel shirt...customs wouldn't go near the thing anyway. Bolivia has been blessed to have her here. She will be missed by the guys and girls of the homes and by Marge. May God's face shine upon you Al!