Aire

I just heard Diana, the convent cook, sneeze twice. It’s quite the startling thing. She sneezes like a giant; she sneezes like a champion sneezer. She is one of those people who, when she sneezes, heaves her whole body and life force into the act. The sound is loud, a high-pitched half-laugh-half-screech that seems painful to perform. My own Dad sneezes the same way, as if his life depended on it. No wonder the custom of blessing someone who sneezes caught on universally. When people like Diana sneeze, it does seem as if the soul is about to eject itself from the body! Salud.

I mention this because I have been sneezing myself. The air in Cochabamba has been so still and so dry for so long since winter started. The air hangs heavy with the pollution of the city. My teachers claim that Cochabamba is the third-most-polluted city in all of South America. All of South America? That’s a tall claim, considering there are other major cities to contend with, including La Paz in Bolivia itself. But today I think the city could bear the unwanted title. As the morning passed, my sinuses were congesting, and my ears were closing up. Halfway through classes I closed the windows to Room 103, because I would rather deal with the echo and resonance issues in our classroom than put up with sneezing fits. (Not to mention that some pile driver on the property adjacent to Maryknoll was happily slamming the earth over and over again.) 

This morning a man from El Salvador, José Vásquez, who has been living in Cochabamba for a decade, gave us a 50-minute presentation on Central America and the Caribbean. He had an unenviable task, cramming in data about climate, geography, culture, language, religion, history, and cuisine of the many nations and isles. It was too much to take in. José had no time left over for questions and dialogue. In fact, he went over time, as have the majority of the presenters I have met throughout these several months at Maryknoll. Worst of all, as José hurried his presentation along to cover all the material, he spoke way too quickly for our newest students, who are at a more elementary level of comprehension, to understand him. Brother Scott and I are in agreement: less is definitely more at these weekly conferences. I am ready to recommend that the conferences be extended to two class periods on Wednesdays. One 50-minute period simply is not sufficient to let the presenter discourse slowly and carefully, and to allow the students an opportunity to talk back and enter into conversation. 

The trip to Santa Cruz is becoming more a reality. Brother Scott asked Anita in the mission center administrative office to find a Friday afternoon flight from Cochabamba with a return flight from Santa Cruz departing early Sunday evening. She is taking care of the booking for us. Happily, I will not need to dress warmly for Santa Cruz; unlike places like La Paz, Oruro, and Uyuni of the Altiplano, Santa Cruz is in the tropical lowlands of eastern Bolivia. Profesor Óscar joked that without mountains, Santa Cruz is not truly Bolivia! Maybe, but I will be glad to wear lighter clothes for a couple of days in a subtropical zone. Also, because it is winter, there are scarcely mosquitoes to be found; thus no need for repellent. No fear of malaria or West Nile virus, or the arenavirus that has claimed three lives in La Paz and caused many illnesses. Finally, I hope the air in Santa Cruz is fresher than the air is these days in Cochabamba!