The Trouble in Bolivia

 …Trouble with a capital “T” and that rhymes with “B” and that stands for Bolivia.

 

I’ve got showtunes stuck in my head again.  That is, of course, not how that song really goes but that’s what I’m singing because Gary was, once again, talking about “the trouble in Bolivia.”

 

I’m not sure what the trouble is; frankly, I’m not sure Gary knows either but, as a result of whatever that trouble is, he believes the Bolivian ambassador is hiding in our closet.  It’s a conversation we’ve had before (although tonight, the ambassador is in my sock drawer).

 

What I really want to know is “why Bolivia”?

 

I’ve come to think of his hallucinations as a pearl being formed – some grain of sand gets in there, gets stuck and gets built upon, layer upon layer.  Except that pearls start as an irritant and turns into something beautiful, and his hallucinations are the opposite.  So like a pearl in reverse. Sometimes I can figure out the source of the sand that started it all.  He has lots of food-related hallucinations – it's easy to see where those come from in our household.  Relatives (most often my sister and nieces) make appearances and, since they figure so prominently in our lives, those don’t surprise me.  Our friend Amy comes up in conversation every day so it’s no wonder that she’s a frequent guest star in his hallucinations.  For a while, he was regularly asking me to render aid when he thought he heard car crashes.  But we had a pretty significant car accident ourselves so I figure that’s the grain of sand that started that particular hallucination.  I find it oddly comforting when I can attribute to hallucination to something specific, when I can pinpoint the grain of sand.

 

So why Bolivia?  He’s never been there. I’ve never been there.  We’ve never spoken about it.  We don’t know anyone from there so why is the ambassador always from Bolivia?  It doesn’t matter, of course, but I would really love to know why.  Every time he mentions It, I obsess over Bolivia.  And while I’m driving myself crazy trying to figure out why Bolivia, Gary is enjoying the company, thrilled not just that he has a guest but that he has such a “fancy guest.”

 

Perhaps I should put on pearls.