Another Monday

As Molly and I bounce along a minibus ride to Servicio de Adolescentes the smell of cooking onions fills the air. We pass through an outdoor food market- hanging sausages swing in the wind and cholitas sit on the sidewalks with their bushels of chamomile and coca leaves for sale. We arrive to a new looking, clean facility equipped with exam rooms and even a dentist’s office. Young mothers listen to a charla as they wait to see Dra. Malu. Dra. Malu is a very lovely woman with dyed red hair and a very friendly disposition. She calms the pregnant teenage girls with her kind words and sincere, soft, motherly approach. We see only a few patients and the exams are minimal; the only instruments we use are out hands and eyes. We feel the mother’s stomachs for the baby’s head, positioning, heart beat and movement. It is an incredible feeling to touch an unborn child, growing inside its mother. After we see the patients, Dra Malu breaks open a bag of empanadas de queso and some glass bottle of coca cola. We have a little mid-morning party to say goodbye to Molly. We chat with the medical students about boys, relationships and girl stuff. It was so fun. On the ride home, I hit my head on the roof of the minibus as I exited. I pick up my laundry from the dry cleaners and head over to the movie store to see if Mr. & Mrs. Smith has arrive yet. Come back tomorrow, the shopkeeper tells me. Anahi really loves Angelina Jolie, so I am impatient to give her this little present. On the way home, a man is pruning a tree, if you can call it that, right there on the sidewalk. The entire tree is practically spread from the store fronts to the street, leaving only enough space for one person to cross at a time. A beautiful little boy, about thirteen years old, smiles at me as I shuffle past. He had the face of an angel and is pushing an empty shopping cart to the nearby supermarket where he must work. Chocolate skin and almond shaped, brown eyes set off his perfectly soft, mild-mannered smile. Bolivians are so beautiful.