Update

Hey Everyone!

So, the transit strike is over, thank goodness, although not before it prevented Carlos' mom from coming to La Paz to welcome Shirley home. So inconvenient. Apparently, the government won, they are not going to change the law.

Yes, yes, yes, Shirley is home again!! A delegation of us went up to the airport at 6:30 am to get her, complete with flowers and a reception of music (our good friend Mario serenaded as Shirley walked out of the gate).

As for my police check to verify where I live: well, therein lies the tale! I had to report to the police officer's office at noon on Friday. Being a good Canadian, I was there 15 minutes early, and stood waiting patiently as he finished up some things. I was dressed to impress, wearing my good black fancy shoes that I hate, and some rather dressier clothing than usual. Carlos says it sometimes helps the process along if you dress professionally. If you can believe it, I even wore mascara! So anyways, I stood there waiting, with my patient smile, reading a book (Little Lord Fauntleroy - if you haven't read it, DO SO!!). Eventually my officer seemed ready to go - we were going to head out to the street and get a taxi to take us up here to Llojeta, where my witnesses were assembled.

And then, just as everything was going well, another fellow showed up for HIS house check! Apparently, the officer had been double booked. It seems that every lunch hour, he has to go do these domiciliario checks, and sometimes he forgets that he has already booked one, and books another. I could tell he was wanting to get mine done, seeing as I've been a model of patience through this whole process. But the other fellow was very, very insistent. Finally, the officer proposed a plan: all three of us get in a taxi, go check this man's house, and then the officer and I would make our way up to Llojeta afterwards. Creative, yes. It would throw my time schedule off, but I figured it would still work, so I sweetly acquiesced and we headed out to the street.

On the way to finding a taxi, the second fellow seemed a bit unsure whether his witnesses would be present on time or not. The police officer appeared annoyed. The second fellow ducked into a call center to call his witnesses to make sure that they'd be there, sensing correctly that the police officer was inches away from telling him, "you know what, how about we do yours another day?" While he was calling, the officer started chatting to me about how long I'd been in Bolivia, if I liked it, what I was doing here. You could see the wheels starting to go around in his head when I told him I was a missionary. He looked at me speculatively, and after a pause he said, "you know what? I trust you. How about you just go get your witnesses to sign these papers, and bring them back this afternoon?" I was more than happy to oblige. He hadn't even asked for a bribe! So he showed me where to get the papers signed, and he and the other fellow climbed into a taxi and drove off into the afternoon.

I went home, got the papers signed, went back downtown, found the officer again, handed over the papers, and it's all done! I just need to go back on Wednesday to pick it up. Praise the Lord!

Sorry for the overly long story, but I just thought it was hysterical! And I hope to bake the good man some cookies and take them back next Wednesday.

Love to all,
Rachael