The last few days, it has rained in the early afternoon after being partly sunny in the morning. Today, it was so pleasant after my 2nd class was over at 1:45 that I left the door to our apartment open to welcome the breeze. Cookie was happily asleep on our bed, so I didn't need to worry about him running out. It sounded as though it was raining very hard, and I looked outside, but it was only sprinkling. Then, the rainstorm marched down the mountain and it started pouring very abruptly, sort of like the sudden downpour in a thunderstorm at home. Unusually, the wind was blowing the rain in the windows and onto the balcony. Bella, the pretty red-gold shepherd mix who had been napping on the welcome mat, appeared in the doorway with an obvious question on her face - could she come in out of the rain, please?

     Like all other dogs here, Bella is an outside dog, but her polite request was so sweet, we told her okay, and she tentatively stepped in a few feet. Thus began Cookie's education. The two of them spent the next 10 minutes alternately ignoring each other, sniffing along behind each other, and, finally, interacting. He snuck around under the table, batting at her tail as she passed by. She looked at him with great puzzlement, clearly thinking, "What are you, and why are you messing with my tail?" He continued to mess with her, seeming to push the limits of acceptable behavior, and she good-naturedly played along, poking her nose at him and snuffing, ducking in and out of his reach, like she'd lived indoors with a cat all her life. Sort of strange for an outside dog who lives where there are almost no cats (there are some in the village, but only one other here on the upper campus). Anyway, the rain began to let up, and she must have heard something outside, because she went rushing over to the doorway to look out, then stepped out. Cookie followed along behind, right on her tail, messing with her, and stopped in the doorway to glare at her when she left. It was so funny! If he had hands, they would have been on his hips as he shouted, "And STAY OUT!" Clearly, in Cookie's mind, dogs belong outside. Fortunately for him, Bella seems to agree.

     On the topic of maintenance, Jeff has some thoughts to share:

     Riding to Coroico the other day, I noticed a group of Bolivians hacking at the jungle to keep the sides of the road from encroaching the lanes. This happens about every 3 months. It is amazing how fast the jungle attempts to begin reclaiming what it believes still belongs to it. Sinom, our guide in the Amazon jungle had to hack his way through trails that his father taught him when he was little. He uses these paths anywhere from 2-8 times a week, every week, and still he must force back the jungle. Even though these people have been here for a VERY long time, the struggle to maintain their hard won infrastructure remains constant. The road to Coroico has had several large trees that have had to be cut up to clear the road. Several smaller trees just get run over until only splinters remain. The road had been taking a beating with all of the extra run-off from the rains. The road side has lost that battle in several places now. Bus drivers are staying to the cliff side as much as possible (sometimes too far!) and then ending up in the cliff side ditch. These slumps are taking half a lane or more from the already narrow road. Recently, we also have had a mud slide, resulting in another half lane loss. This mud slide was about 25 feet across, and about 2 feet deep. It wouldn't necessarily throw your car off the cliff, but it could ruin your whole day.

     I will close for now with a request. I would ask that each of you keep the people of Bolivia in your prayers. With the flooding and mudslides in Rurrenabaque, and the heavy rains washing mountain roads away all over Bolivia, many people are dead, and many more still missing. Pray that we get only the rain we need to sustain the people and economy, and no more.

La Paz to all!