Chariots of Failure

By now you’d know that when I was young I was pretty fast around the track. I’ve talked about my skills here on MK Tales at length, it’s been in the news, and generally passed down from one grandmother to the next in villages everywhere as legend and heartfelt tales of yore.

Revenge of the Smurfs

Midway through highschool we caught whiff of rumours in the wind of another 2 boys joining the school after the summer break. They were coming down from hellish Florida to idyllic Cochabamba to stay with their relatives and live the opulent lifestyle afforded to them by their DNA. This was exciting.

Don Jaime

Since neither set of our parents were really into the whole ‘looking out for you’ deal, Joel & I mostly just roamed free around the countryside growing up, chatting to homeless people and playing in filthy, dark alleyways whilst child slave traders looked on with a gleam in their eye, dreaming of thumbing through reams of greenbacks.

Second Impressions


I imagine for some Missionary Kids, moving away from their home country and leaving all their friends and family must be an horrific experience. I say imagine, because I honestly can’t remember whether mine was or not. It could have been the drugs dad plied us with. Some more of the things I can remember from those early weeks of being a Missionary Kid…
  • Our House(s).

Chris Dies at Camp

Americans love camps. It’s like their national pastime or something. When they’re not eating individual portions designed for entire Catholic families or shooting each other under the loving embrace of the Bill of Rights,* they go on camps. Americans have camps for everything. Summer Camps, High School camps, Wilderness Camps. Girl Scout Camps.

Summer of Joel Part 2

We continue our ‘Summers of Joel’ series.  Some of the other stuff we did, back in the days when men were men… and wanted nothing to do with us:
  • Shoot things. Joel had a American Daisy Pellet gun. I had some Brazilian air rifle thing that could kill a man or tiny horse at 100 paces.

The Hardy Boys and other Adventurers

Obviously I had no real friends when we first moved to Cochabamba. This predicament lingered for a while, so I spent a lot of time in the school library like a nerd loser. In the first month, I’d read every single Hardy Boys novel they had, sometimes churning through 2 a day.

Summer of Joel Part 1

Most of my early summer days in Cochabamba were spent with Joel, because we both lived on the school grounds and neither of us had any other friends. Joel was an adventurer, and as such had plenty of GI Joes & Micro Machines, a New Zealand Passport and a 70cc raging beast of a Honda Motorbike with a peeling Rolling Stones sticker.

International Schooling: You’re doing it wrong.

Studying at an International School has its drawbacks. For one thing, there’s no standard curriculum. You get whatever the teacher at the time deems appropriate learning. Being an Australian citizen, naturally I got American History. I had an English teacher for Science, and a Kiwi teacher for English. You can blame her for the poor writing on this blog.