Rachel and I left Santa Cruz last night around 6:30, an hour later than the scheduled departure time. That should have put us in La Paz around 10 or 1030 this morning. We arrived at the bus terminal after 130 pm this afternoon. Raise your hand if you want to know why…..
I was sleeping peacefully on the bus (a first) when I was awakened by swift swurving of the bus and supposedly a loud thud which I did not hear. The bus pulled off to the shoulder. A lady got off the bus and soon came back on and I heard the word vaca, which is cow. The passengers gathered that the bus had hit a cow and one by one they filed off the bus to see what had happened. The front right side of the bus looked terrible. I dont remember much of what was said, probably because I couldnt understand it. So, during the mayhem, I walked about a quarter of a mile back down the road along with a couple of Bolivians. There we found that our bus did not hit a cow; it hit TWO cows. The cows died along with the front right headlight and fender of the bus but no passengers were hurt. We stayed at the scene about an hour while the drivers debated on what to do, whether to go back 3 hours to Santa Cruz, head to La Paz, or wait there for another bus. They eventually decided to keeping driving with one headlight. Our crippled mode of tranportation stumbled along the road until we arrived in Coachabamba around 730 am where we changed buses. To all the motherly type, dont worry. This could have happened in Clay County. I would say it was an adventure but unless otherwise noted, I ask that the readers assume each day is an adventure.
Before that, as Addison was saying, we did some work with the Wallers in San Julian. They were extremely nice and hospitable. I had sweet tea there. More than that, I was fascinated by what they are doing in Bolivia and around the world. Water for All has drilled over 2,000 wells in 13 countries, each one costing little more than $100 as oppossed to $7,000-$12,000 it costs to drill a well in Bolivia. We got to see the model project of what a piece of land can look like if the local people use wells and windmills to supply water to their crops and cattle. Terry had asked me if I minded climbing one of the windmills to take pictures of the land. I said sure and began my ascent. I was at a point where I thought I could get decent pictures but I thought to myself, since Ive come this far, I might as well go to the top. That I did. Upon my arrival, I was greeted by a small swarm of black wasps the size of eagles. Subsequently, I was stung on the thumb twice and in my hurry to scurry down the windmill I received a nice cut on the palm of my hand. The pictures turned out well.

Addison rocked the well going 5 feet in 5 minutes by hand. I got his autograph.

– Jarred