*My Time Zone*

Do you remember? No matter where you lived on the island, it was five (or fifteen) minutes farther than I expected it to be. That is to say, I was always five (or fifteen) minutes late. I was late to church, to your birthday party, to my birthday party, to that meeting, to a rehearsal. I took too long to get showered, get dressed, or get changed. Occasionally I blamed my bike or my parents or my sister. A time or two, traffic held me up, or the line for a sandwich, or road construction. Usually, however, it was my fault. I admit it. You worked with it, and usually forgave me. In time, you learned to give me an earlier arrival date to accommodate for my tardiness. I hated being late, but had no power over myself to change my habits. I am a creature of habit after all. Now, my friends, I am issuing a warning: my problem has not been resolved by my time in the South. No, I’m afraid to announce I have become a victim to Bolivia time.
You may ask, what is Bolivian time? It’s not like Mountain Standard Time, Atlantic Daylight Time, Christmas time, or lunch time. It isn’t a set hour before or after another country or area. It’s not even official. You’ll never find printed in an governmental Bolivia fact book, ‘’Start getting ready when the party begins. Arrive an hour and a half later.’’ But that’s what it is. For all social purposes, later is generally better. Let’s look at some pretty common examples.
A friend’s birthday invitation said five o’clock. I arrived about a half hour late, and joined two other guests on the birthday girl’s bed as she got dressed and put on makeup. Guests arrived steadily for the next three hours. I’d say the majority of the people arrived between seven and eight pm. By nine pm, my host mother was ready to pick me up, and we hadn’t even begun to sing ‘’Happy Birthday.’’ That is Bolivia time.
I used to be part of a folk dance group in my school. One day our rehearsal was scheduled to start at two o’clock. I went out for salteñas with some friends at a quarter to two. Ten minutes later I expressed my concern, because being late for rehearsal (in the States, at least) is a crime second worse to nothing but murder. They laughed at me. They laughed and told me that no one would show up until two thirty. We played around and ate our salteñas, and took our own sweet time doing so. When we arrived at the rehearsal at two thirty, we were some of the first kids there. Close to an hour later, our instructor showed up. That is Bolivia time.
Thankfully, there are some exceptions to Bolivian time. If you fail to acknowledge these exceptions, the consequences can be pretty interesting. You should make sure to be on time to school, church, the airport, and anywhere with Shirley. I’ll quickly explain. The one time I was late to school, I was without my friends, so I didn’t know my schedule. I had to go ask the English aide where the heck I was to go. When I’m late to church, there’s no place to sit. Pretty simple. The airport should be obvious. It’s interesting though: the planes are always late. Why can’t the people be too? Shirley was the guide on the monster trip of Bolivia. She’s really good at lecturing, and enjoys it. If you don’t want to get chewed out nearly to the point of insanity, don’t be late. Besides those few examples, everything is on Bolivian time.
I’m coming home next July, and I’m really curious as to what will happen to me. Will I be later than I usually was? Will I overcompensate and be ridiculously early? I suppose things could stay as they were, but with all of the changes I’m experiencing in Bolivia, I doubt that. No, I’m fairly certain that until I can be retrained, Bolivia time will be with me wherever I am.