Adios Mi Amiga Balentina

7:30 p.m. A knock on the door. Ángel, one of the neighbours, looking shocked and slightly teary. Would we please take his Mom and Dad and himself to Yapacani? His aunt was killed in a motorcycle accident – Balentina.

Reaction to this type of announcement is disbelief and immediate action. Within half an hour we were on the road with Ángel’s family and some of the neighbours. Still, it did not seem real. Arriving in Yapacani at 10:30 we found family and friends surrounding the casket. It was real. My friend had died. Only the day before we saw her washing clothes at her home in the chaco – the familiar large smile and the wave as we drove past, not knowing that we would never see her again.

Balentina and her family returned to the city on Monday morning. She was walking along the road close to the bridge on the east end of town. (For you who have been here that is the bridge close to our corner.) A motorcycle passed her and hit her in the side with the handle bars, causing her to fall head first on to the road and roll three times. Reports say that she got up and immediate fell again, this time backwards. From then on we are not clear what happened but she was taken to the Japanese hospital (a good private hospital) in San Juan but they sent her immediately to Santa Cruz. There she died from her injuries and the body was taken by ambulance back to Yapacani. The driver of the motorcycle spent the night and the next day in the police station. He hired a lawyer, who wanted Zacarius, Balentina’s husband, to sign a settlement immediately. A cousin suggested that he sign nothing and we concurred.

Because Balentina’s mother lives in Sucre, the funeral did not take place until Wednesday – a long wait for Bolivia. In the meantime, family and friends visited the room in which Balentina lay in her coffin. Each visitor brought something – food, candles, soda pop, coca leaves, or cigarettes. Many of the Catholic or traditional customs were observed – the lighting of the candles around the coffin, the spilling of the soda pop or chicha, the three taps on the side of the coffin, the black tops or shawls, the new shawl and food in the coffin, the washing of the clothes in acid and then burning them.

Zacarius has a very strong family circle and their support was evident. They were more accustomed to death and know what normally was done, according to their culture. Also, they are a great support for Zacarius and his daughters Erlinda, Nilda, MarieLyn and his son, Alvaro.

Yesterday was the funeral. We bid Adios—to God -- to Balentina. She was a lady who always expressed a great interest in the church although she was not comfortable attending church in Yapacani. She would attend special services at the church in Patujusal. But that doesn’t always tell the story. As we visited, I spotted a well used Bible in the house. I have no doubt that she and children used it. I believe that God takes each of his children where they are at and that, Balentina with her child like faith, has a place with him.

I will miss her. I will miss her big smile, her wonderful warm hugs, her openness, the demonstrations of love for her husband and her children, the conversations. But I will remember her fondly and will never look at a piece of embroidery without thinking of her.

A Dios, Balentina.. God bless you.