Summer where I live has its ups and downs. First of all, there is the fruit, which is absolutely amazing. Imagine a never-ending supply of avocadoes, mangoes, and many exotic fruits that I had never even heard of before coming here. People are so eager to introduce me to something special about Peru that they continually bring me fruit from their "chacras," the small agricultural plots the majority of my town relies upon for income. I have learned how to choose which guabas are fat enough to eat, how to peel the hard-shelled mamey in order to get to the thick, juicy fruit inside, how tamarinds taste like sour warheads and act as a natural laxative, and that lucuma makes an excellent ice cream but is pretty disgusting plain. In the Peace Corps we often refer to goals 2 and 3 to keep us motivated when our "real work" isn't going so well. These goals refer to teaching Americans about Peruvian culture and Peruvians about American culture. The fruit is definitely a good opportunity for cultural interchange since it allows me to complement Peruvians on something that is a huge source of pride for them. I sometimes even tell them that avocadoes and mangos sometimes cost $2 each to make them realize how special their products are. Even though I achieve this goal, I usually regret talking about money because it makes Americans seem super rich and spoiled, the exact stereotype I most want to dissolve.
With fruit season also comes the "rainy" season. Being from Portland, the monthly drizzle that makes up rainy season here leaves me a little disappointed. I often hope for rain just so that I don't have to carry buckets of water to the trees that I have planted. The infrastructure is not made to handle any rain, which means that even this slight bit causes flooding in all the streets. As soon as this rain comes, the snow in the mountains starts to melt and just enough makes it to my town. This is the signal for the rice-growing season to start because they are able to flood the chacras. I question this practice for a few reasons. First of all, growing rice here requires turning what is essentially a desert into a checkerboard of marshes. This does not seem like a very efficient use of resources. These human-made marshes attract that wonderful little marsh insect, the mosquito. I have been too lazy to hang up my mosquito net until now but I recognize it is necessary because Dengue fever season is starting up again and a particular breed of mosquito is the main vector. This disease can be fatal and is always incredibly painful so I fully intend to avoid it. After contracting this disease, any subsequent infection is much worse. These fears turn the mosquito from an annoying pest into a potential killer makes me even more bitter that rice is the main crop right now.
The less threatening but equally annoying insect that comes in waves with the summer moisture and heat is the ant. Ants are everywhere! I have lost two bags of oatmeal to ant infestation and countless plates of leftovers have become ant colonies. With so many critters everywhere it is an accepted fact that everyone will be eating lots of ants over the next couple of months. At my host mom's birthday party I happened to be in the kitchen when they were making the cocktails for the toast and I witnessed what we in the USA would consider an egregious party foul. The cocktail consisted of canned peaches and champagne blended into a sweet and bubbly drink, even if it is kind of syrupy. They opened the can of peaches and then left for about ten minutes to tend to the duck that was being cooked and when they got back it had filled with ants. They shrugged it off and dumped the can of ant infested peaches into the blender and no one had any idea. I was skeptical but took the black specs that I knew to be ant parts in my cocktail like a pro. This was just the most blatant example of ant eating that I have been a part of but even as I write this I am drinking a glass of water that had two ants floating in it before I started and now it is down to zero. This is the Peruvian village version of protein powder.
Another huge part of the summer months are the unending parties. I have started hiding from these parties because they are so exhausting. A simple birthday lunch almost unfailingly turns into sloppy debauchery and extends to dinner and then night time dancing, and then more snacks (usually some campo ceviche, raw salted fish chopped into bits and mixed with lime and onion). I usually duck out after a couple of hours. At one party I was at a few months ago, someone started asking me about my real name and, when I told them it was Sheridan they were amazed. They had me write it down and at a recent party I attended with the same group of people, I found out that they had liked the name so much that they recommended it to their cousin as a baby name and now there is a little baby Sheridan running around somewhere in Northern Peru. This was a huge honor for me and made me realize that what seems like somewhat silly inquiries into mundane details of my life to me can turns out to be more serious than anticipated. Hopefully one day I will get to meet this child who will probably be confused by her own name for the rest of her life (and hopefully a little proud to have been named after a gringa volunteer). And now I must go work on goals 2 and 3 by eating Peruvian food and most likely graciously accepting a glass of beer at a lunch party that I was invited to. I can't wait for winter when I don't have to be so social because people actually have stuff to do!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Religion and Murals
is no longer an infant in the manger, he has grown up. I only wish the priest would mandate that people stop playing Christmas music after Christmas because that is just annoying. It is Peruvian tradition to elect a godmother for every event. I got to be the godmother of setting up the nativity and now there was a new godmother for taking down the nativity scene. It was a very pretty ceremony involving candles and singing and a few prayers. It was an honor to be part of such a special ceremony but it brought back some of the my discomfort with religion here in Peru. When I am asked whether I am Catholic, I respond that I am Christian and celebrate Christian holidays but I am not Catholic. Part of my reasoning for doing this is to suggest that there are people who are not Catholic or super religious out there and part of it comes from my need to be at least partially honest about who I am. Individuality is not a commonly accepted feature in my town and I don't want to overdo it. Anyway, despite the fact that I took some offense hearing my best friends say that people without Jesus in their hearts are lost and in the dark and do not have the capacity to love, I enjoyed being included in the ceremony as a cultural event and I really enjoyed the chicken and garbanzo bean meal that got served afterwards. Religion has always been a point of stress for me in the process of community integration and in my acceptance of the Peruvian culture in general. The Catholic Church is such a huge part of everything from public school to meetings in government institutions at all levels, to town festivals that it is necessary for me to accept but I am having a lot of trouble letting go of my perception that separation of church and state is hugely important to maintaining a functional government. All that being said, this is my overactive American need to criticize and analyze speaking. The Catholic Church is a strong force in my community and Peru as a whole which serves to unite the community and, although it restricts the individualism, the value, structure, and faith it facilitates make my community a positive and loving place to spend a couple of years.
The Peruvian custom is to say yes and I am much more direct than that. My mom bought me a "Getting in Touch With Your Inner Bitch" daily calendar and the inner bitch mantra is, "if something isn't right just say, "I don't think so."' The success of my work depends primarily on the voluntary participation of community members. I have been fortunate to live in a community where the majority want to support me and agree to go along with whatever crazy ideas that I may have (Typical exchange: "why would I want to save the leaves I sweep up off my patio?" "Well, it makes an excellent and free fertilizer"). Notice that I said agree to go along with and not actually go along with necessarily. Most of the time this works to my advantage because I can get the blessing of school directors, mayors, and other community leaders to start projects.
Recently, this usually delightful Peruvian desire to please completely backfired and led to my biggest Peace Corps melt down yet. I have spent the past few months securing materials, funding, and workers to paint a couple of environmentally themed murals in the elementary school and they turned out beautifully. First, I got the local archaeologist to lend me two workers for a couple of days to put the plaster up on the walls and then I got the guardian/groundskeeper of the school who is known as the artist of the town to create two incredible works of art that call attention to the importance of conserving our environment. I have not had such successful and visible projects in a while (our goals focus more on behavior change and education) so I am incredibly proud to have gathered such a wide array of support that culminated in two excellent murals with plans to paint more. What no one thought to tell me throughout this entire process is that the entire school including my two precious murals will be torn down in February. Not only that but up until I confronted the director and directly asked him if the rumors about the school being torn down were true, he kept asking for more murals. When I asked and he nonchalantly confirmed that all my time, money, and favors called in with local institutions were in vain, I launched into an overly emotional and angry diatribe about the lack of respect he had shown me and the others who had put work in. His response was "Well you would have been mad at me if I'd told you that I wasn't going to let you paint the murals." This directly points to the cultural habit of not saying no. I told him that I would have been perfectly fine with putting off the murals if he had told me they would be torn anyway. This director has been an excellent advocate of my work since I have been here and I hope we will be able to repair the damage that was done by this faulty communication leading to my outburst. It is one thing when people say that they will be coming to your meeting and don't show because of the culture of yes but it is a whole different level when someone wastes all the time and limited funding you have with no intention of warning you that it will be wasted. I learned a few things here, 1. Check the temper at the door before confronting someone about something that will inevitably be infuriating, and 2. Do some thorough research before embarking on big projects. I will see how fast this little episode gets around town but the upside is that school starts in mid-March so I have a whole 2 months for things to cool down before trying to mend fences.
The Peruvian custom is to say yes and I am much more direct than that. My mom bought me a "Getting in Touch With Your Inner Bitch" daily calendar and the inner bitch mantra is, "if something isn't right just say, "I don't think so."' The success of my work depends primarily on the voluntary participation of community members. I have been fortunate to live in a community where the majority want to support me and agree to go along with whatever crazy ideas that I may have (Typical exchange: "why would I want to save the leaves I sweep up off my patio?" "Well, it makes an excellent and free fertilizer"). Notice that I said agree to go along with and not actually go along with necessarily. Most of the time this works to my advantage because I can get the blessing of school directors, mayors, and other community leaders to start projects.
Recently, this usually delightful Peruvian desire to please completely backfired and led to my biggest Peace Corps melt down yet. I have spent the past few months securing materials, funding, and workers to paint a couple of environmentally themed murals in the elementary school and they turned out beautifully. First, I got the local archaeologist to lend me two workers for a couple of days to put the plaster up on the walls and then I got the guardian/groundskeeper of the school who is known as the artist of the town to create two incredible works of art that call attention to the importance of conserving our environment. I have not had such successful and visible projects in a while (our goals focus more on behavior change and education) so I am incredibly proud to have gathered such a wide array of support that culminated in two excellent murals with plans to paint more. What no one thought to tell me throughout this entire process is that the entire school including my two precious murals will be torn down in February. Not only that but up until I confronted the director and directly asked him if the rumors about the school being torn down were true, he kept asking for more murals. When I asked and he nonchalantly confirmed that all my time, money, and favors called in with local institutions were in vain, I launched into an overly emotional and angry diatribe about the lack of respect he had shown me and the others who had put work in. His response was "Well you would have been mad at me if I'd told you that I wasn't going to let you paint the murals." This directly points to the cultural habit of not saying no. I told him that I would have been perfectly fine with putting off the murals if he had told me they would be torn anyway. This director has been an excellent advocate of my work since I have been here and I hope we will be able to repair the damage that was done by this faulty communication leading to my outburst. It is one thing when people say that they will be coming to your meeting and don't show because of the culture of yes but it is a whole different level when someone wastes all the time and limited funding you have with no intention of warning you that it will be wasted. I learned a few things here, 1. Check the temper at the door before confronting someone about something that will inevitably be infuriating, and 2. Do some thorough research before embarking on big projects. I will see how fast this little episode gets around town but the upside is that school starts in mid-March so I have a whole 2 months for things to cool down before trying to mend fences.
Religion and Murals
With the Christmas season being officially over, I got invited to a party to take down the nativity scene at one of my best friend's house. The priest in my town recently declared it mandatory that people take down their nativity scenes by January 7th because after that baby Jesus is no longer an infant in the manger, he has grown up. I only wish the priest would mandate that people stop playing Christmas music after Christmas because that is just annoying. It is Peruvian tradition to elect a godmother for every event. I got to be the godmother of setting up the nativity and now there was a new godmother for taking down the nativity scene. It was a very pretty ceremony involving candles and singing and a few prayers. It was an honor to be part of such a special ceremony but it brought back some of the my discomfort with religion here in Peru. When I am asked whether I am Catholic, I respond that I am Christian and celebrate Christian holidays but I am not Catholic. Part of my reasoning for doing this is to suggest that there are people who are not Catholic or super religious out there and part of it comes from my need to be at least partially honest about who I am. Individuality is not a commonly accepted feature in my town and I don't want to overdo it. Anyway, despite the fact that I took some offense hearing my best friends say that people without Jesus in their hearts are lost and in the dark and do not have the capacity to love, I enjoyed being included in the ceremony as a cultural event and I really enjoyed the chicken and garbanzo bean meal that got served afterwards. Religion has always been a point of stress for me in the process of community integration and in my acceptance of the Peruvian culture in general. The Catholic Church is such a huge part of everything from public school to meetings in government institutions at all levels, to town festivals that it is necessary for me to accept but I am having a lot of trouble letting go of my perception that separation of church and state is hugely important to maintaining a functional government. All that being said, this is my overactive American need to criticize and analyze speaking. The Catholic Church is a strong force in my community and Peru as a whole which serves to unite the community and, although it restricts the individualism, the value, structure, and faith it facilitates make my community a positive and loving place to spend a couple of years.
The Peruvian custom is to say yes and I am much more direct than that. My mom bought me a "Getting in Touch With Your Inner Bitch" daily calendar and the inner bitch mantra is, "if something isn't right just say, "I don't think so."' The success of my work depends primarily on the voluntary participation of community members. I have been fortunate to live in a community where the majority want to support me and agree to go along with whatever crazy ideas that I may have (Typical exchange: "why would I want to save the leaves I sweep up off my patio?" "Well, it makes an excellent and free fertilizer"). Notice that I said agree to go along with and not actually go along with necessarily. Most of the time this works to my advantage because I can get the blessing of school directors, mayors, and other community leaders to start projects.
Recently, this usually delightful Peruvian desire to please completely backfired and led to my biggest Peace Corps melt down yet. I have spent the past few months securing materials, funding, and workers to paint a couple of environmentally themed murals in the elementary school and they turned out beautifully. First, I got the local archaeologist to lend me two workers for a couple of days to put the plaster up on the walls and then I got the guardian/groundskeeper of the school who is known as the artist of the town to create two incredible works of art that call attention to the importance of conserving our environment. I have not had such successful and visible projects in a while (our goals focus more on behavior change and education) so I am incredibly proud to have gathered such a wide array of support that culminated in two excellent murals with plans to paint more. What no one thought to tell me throughout this entire process is that the entire school including my two precious murals will be torn down in February. Not only that but up until I confronted the director and directly asked him if the rumors about the school being torn down were true, he kept asking for more murals. When I asked and he nonchalantly confirmed that all my time, money, and favors called in with local institutions were in vain, I launched into an overly emotional and angry diatribe about the lack of respect he had shown me and the others who had put work in. His response was "Well you would have been mad at me if I'd told you that I wasn't going to let you paint the murals." This directly points to the cultural habit of not saying no. I told him that I would have been perfectly fine with putting off the murals if he had told me they would be torn anyway. This director has been an excellent advocate of my work since I have been here and I hope we will be able to repair the damage that was done by this faulty communication leading to my outburst. It is one thing when people say that they will be coming to your meeting and don't show because of the culture of yes but it is a whole different level when someone wastes all the time and limited funding you have with no intention of warning you that it will be wasted. I learned a few things here, 1. Check the temper at the door before confronting someone about something that will inevitably be infuriating, and 2. Do some thorough research before embarking on big projects. I will see how fast this little episode gets around town but the upside is that school starts in mid-March so I have a whole 2 months for things to cool down before trying to mend fences.
The Peruvian custom is to say yes and I am much more direct than that. My mom bought me a "Getting in Touch With Your Inner Bitch" daily calendar and the inner bitch mantra is, "if something isn't right just say, "I don't think so."' The success of my work depends primarily on the voluntary participation of community members. I have been fortunate to live in a community where the majority want to support me and agree to go along with whatever crazy ideas that I may have (Typical exchange: "why would I want to save the leaves I sweep up off my patio?" "Well, it makes an excellent and free fertilizer"). Notice that I said agree to go along with and not actually go along with necessarily. Most of the time this works to my advantage because I can get the blessing of school directors, mayors, and other community leaders to start projects.
Recently, this usually delightful Peruvian desire to please completely backfired and led to my biggest Peace Corps melt down yet. I have spent the past few months securing materials, funding, and workers to paint a couple of environmentally themed murals in the elementary school and they turned out beautifully. First, I got the local archaeologist to lend me two workers for a couple of days to put the plaster up on the walls and then I got the guardian/groundskeeper of the school who is known as the artist of the town to create two incredible works of art that call attention to the importance of conserving our environment. I have not had such successful and visible projects in a while (our goals focus more on behavior change and education) so I am incredibly proud to have gathered such a wide array of support that culminated in two excellent murals with plans to paint more. What no one thought to tell me throughout this entire process is that the entire school including my two precious murals will be torn down in February. Not only that but up until I confronted the director and directly asked him if the rumors about the school being torn down were true, he kept asking for more murals. When I asked and he nonchalantly confirmed that all my time, money, and favors called in with local institutions were in vain, I launched into an overly emotional and angry diatribe about the lack of respect he had shown me and the others who had put work in. His response was "Well you would have been mad at me if I'd told you that I wasn't going to let you paint the murals." This directly points to the cultural habit of not saying no. I told him that I would have been perfectly fine with putting off the murals if he had told me they would be torn anyway. This director has been an excellent advocate of my work since I have been here and I hope we will be able to repair the damage that was done by this faulty communication leading to my outburst. It is one thing when people say that they will be coming to your meeting and don't show because of the culture of yes but it is a whole different level when someone wastes all the time and limited funding you have with no intention of warning you that it will be wasted. I learned a few things here, 1. Check the temper at the door before confronting someone about something that will inevitably be infuriating, and 2. Do some thorough research before embarking on big projects. I will see how fast this little episode gets around town but the upside is that school starts in mid-March so I have a whole 2 months for things to cool down before trying to mend fences.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Now I Really Feel Like a Spinster
This week Doña Blanca arrived in Pacora after leaving for a few months to undergo cataract surgery in Lima. Those of you who read about her in earlier blogs may remember her as my eccentric host grandmother who tells wild stories about her youth in Pacora. Doña Blanca sits all morning and a lot of the afternoon at the kitchen table so anyone in the kitchen becomes a subject under her reign. She is always sure to make it known when she is hungry or wants her coffee. If Mariela delays in preparing breakfast, Doña Blanca does not hold back in her complaints. She is truly a community elder who has earned her sense of entitlement and makes sure to take full advantage of her status to get what she wants. She can't hear or see very well but she has an unbelievable memory and has read about a huge range of topics. She is generally more up to date on current events in the U.S. that I am because, due to her inability to get around very well, she sits and listens to news on the radio (at full volume) for hours a day. Her virtual deafness and blindness makes it so she doesn't always notice when there is already a conversation going on and will launch into epic tales of taking produce to market 50 miles by burro or Romeo and Juliet style romances that occurred among her classmates. I love listening to her stories and I am thankful that she carries on one-sided conversations because it requires screaming in her face to talk to her and I generally don't have the energy for that. Between cultural and language barriers I already have plenty of trouble communicating with people that aren't deaf. One of the funniest Doña Blanca story telling techniques is the list. Sometimes she will start telling about the fruit trees they used to grow on her land before it became the street behind my houseand then she will start listing them similar to how Bubba lists the ways of preparing shrimp in one of my favorite scenes in Forest Gump. Her lists are always very extensive and the volume fades in and out as she thinks of more items to list. While she covers the entire inventory of whatever she happens to be talking about Mariela and I can carry on an entire conversation and then tune back in as she finishes without her noticing. In the most recent and funniest of her listing stories she listed all of her grandchildren and their skin color ranging from white to black. Doña Blanca (a nickname that refers to her white skin color relative to other Peruvians. Her real name is Evangelina) provides me with endless knowledge about topics ranging from food to world history and I am glad to have her back. I know she will be a commonly occurring character in blog entries to come.
Mariela, Doña Blanca, and I all have birthdays in the upcoming week so we decided to throw a party for some friends and family. We pushed the party up a few days so that Mariela's family who is in town to celebrate the holidays could attend. A typical Peruvian party is made up of a few key ingredients, a goat, a few crates of beer, and multiple giants speakers of the sort found at concerts. Our party had all these things so it was sure to be a success. I put in the food and Mariela suggested that she contract the speakers. Although I would have preferred to have a more American style party with the music set at volumes that facilitate conversation, I was glad to see Mariela's enthusiasm and figured that I was in the minority so I thanked Mariela for her contribution and prepared for a memorable event. True to form, the majority of guests showed up a couple of hours late and the festivities began. I am pretty sure that I consumed more calories that afternoon than I had in the week preceding it. After a few rounds of passing the communal beer glass we cranked up the volume and started to dance. My favorite part of the party was when everyone danced around me in a circle and took turns dancing with me in the center. I got quite the quad workout because lots of the people I danced with insisted on getting low. I guess that counts as the cross training that my marathon training program required for that day. The new mayor was in attendance and served me a glass or two of beer when it came his turn to choose who drank next. My site mate who had come to help me celebrate (and to provide moral support in the daunting task of participating in a Peruvian party) commented that this was a good strategy for getting work done in Peace Corps Peru and I commented that it was a good sign for the upcoming year. After dancing until I had to take off my shoes in order to attempt the fancy footwork of the local traditional dance of marinera, everyone left in good spirits. I am definitely glad to have celebrated with my friends and I even got to make some new ones. One woman in attendance is from Pacora but currently lived in Queens and she offered to show me the Peruvian cultural hot spots when I am in the U.S. and missing Peruvian culture. I only wish that I could have all my friends at my birthday party next year in the U.S. I might make those of you that celebrate with me do a little dancing for the sake of remembering the Peruvian culture that I have come to embrace.
This party was not my only birthday party this week. The women that I work with planting trees in the natural protected area near my site had been talking for a long time about doing something for my birthday so when the time came, I planned to do a lunch the day of my birthday with them. Hanging out with these women is always fun because they are a rowdy bunch who like to tell dirty jokes and dance. We started out by cooking the duck that I had brought in the traditional Peruvian way with peas, carrots, and rice, all in beer in coca cola. While we were cooking, the chickens and dogs were running around at our feet and I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the chicken that will probably serve as lunch in the near future who was pecking away at the cauldron where the duck was being cooked. The live animal and the meal it provides are not seen as two separate entities but as stages within the same process. These two elements are much closer than the cow we see in the country field and the neatly packaged t-bone steak we buy at the grocery store in the United States. The duck that I bought was plucked but was pretty much still in the shape of a duck complete with the majority of its guts. While one of the women got to hacking it apart with a VERY dull knife, I was charged with peeling the peas, which I did frustratingly slowly for the women watching me. While I stood their peeling the peas and laughing as baby chickens scurried over my feet and the kitchen filled with smoke, a maggot suddenly dropped from a hanging basket into the bowl of peas that I had peeled. Looking back on it, I took this incredibly calmly, much more calmly than I would have a year ago. Maggots, bloody duck hearts, dull knives, and eating until you think you might puke and then drinking moonshine are all things that one comes to think of as normal in my region of Peru. I will be coming back to the United States much tougher than I was and also much less likely to freak out if something isn't perfect. Along the lines of the dull knives and the maggots, we volunteers often laugh at the notion of sending a plate of food back purely because it has a hair in it. I often wonder how long it will take for me to get back into my American mindset of demanding perfect hygiene and constant refrigeration but I hope that I retain some of the toughness that I have gained here.
After putting away enough rice, duck, and msg to make me feel sick (and I have a pretty large appetite), we started the toasting. The women said some wonderful things about me and I realized that this was where I wanted to be for my 24th birthday. I miss my family and I wish they could be here but I have shared and will share many more birthdays with them. This was one of those special moments when I realize that I made the right decision in coming to Peru for two years. I go through phases where these moments are few and far between but lately, I have found myself in many situations where I say to myself, "it is pretty awesome that I am here right now." That sounds super cheesy but it's difficult not to get sentimental when people of a different culture and from such a different background than myself make an effort to make me feel like part of the crew. I have to remember these moments at times like right now when I pour my coffee into a cracked mug or last night when the heat prevents me from sleeping. I still live by the mantra that in the Peace Corps you can have the best day and the worst day of your life on the same day. After I responded by giving my own sentimental toast thanking the women for the lessons that they have taught me over the last year, the day only got better as I got to dance with all of the women and we laughed and joked around. One of the most interesting moments was when I bonded with one of the women over both being 24, granted this was as she nursed her fourth child. We are looking forward to celebrating her 25th together in June. I don't have much opportunity to hang out socially with these women. Usually we are just carrying water and planting trees and I have come to realize that I need to create more social opportunities because they have been some of the most welcoming and consistently supportive people that I have met. It is easy to fall into staying in my room and watching Lost on my laptop during my free time (What is going to happen?!), it is important to get out and spend time with the people who make my life here worthwhile.
Mariela, Doña Blanca, and I all have birthdays in the upcoming week so we decided to throw a party for some friends and family. We pushed the party up a few days so that Mariela's family who is in town to celebrate the holidays could attend. A typical Peruvian party is made up of a few key ingredients, a goat, a few crates of beer, and multiple giants speakers of the sort found at concerts. Our party had all these things so it was sure to be a success. I put in the food and Mariela suggested that she contract the speakers. Although I would have preferred to have a more American style party with the music set at volumes that facilitate conversation, I was glad to see Mariela's enthusiasm and figured that I was in the minority so I thanked Mariela for her contribution and prepared for a memorable event. True to form, the majority of guests showed up a couple of hours late and the festivities began. I am pretty sure that I consumed more calories that afternoon than I had in the week preceding it. After a few rounds of passing the communal beer glass we cranked up the volume and started to dance. My favorite part of the party was when everyone danced around me in a circle and took turns dancing with me in the center. I got quite the quad workout because lots of the people I danced with insisted on getting low. I guess that counts as the cross training that my marathon training program required for that day. The new mayor was in attendance and served me a glass or two of beer when it came his turn to choose who drank next. My site mate who had come to help me celebrate (and to provide moral support in the daunting task of participating in a Peruvian party) commented that this was a good strategy for getting work done in Peace Corps Peru and I commented that it was a good sign for the upcoming year. After dancing until I had to take off my shoes in order to attempt the fancy footwork of the local traditional dance of marinera, everyone left in good spirits. I am definitely glad to have celebrated with my friends and I even got to make some new ones. One woman in attendance is from Pacora but currently lived in Queens and she offered to show me the Peruvian cultural hot spots when I am in the U.S. and missing Peruvian culture. I only wish that I could have all my friends at my birthday party next year in the U.S. I might make those of you that celebrate with me do a little dancing for the sake of remembering the Peruvian culture that I have come to embrace.
This party was not my only birthday party this week. The women that I work with planting trees in the natural protected area near my site had been talking for a long time about doing something for my birthday so when the time came, I planned to do a lunch the day of my birthday with them. Hanging out with these women is always fun because they are a rowdy bunch who like to tell dirty jokes and dance. We started out by cooking the duck that I had brought in the traditional Peruvian way with peas, carrots, and rice, all in beer in coca cola. While we were cooking, the chickens and dogs were running around at our feet and I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the chicken that will probably serve as lunch in the near future who was pecking away at the cauldron where the duck was being cooked. The live animal and the meal it provides are not seen as two separate entities but as stages within the same process. These two elements are much closer than the cow we see in the country field and the neatly packaged t-bone steak we buy at the grocery store in the United States. The duck that I bought was plucked but was pretty much still in the shape of a duck complete with the majority of its guts. While one of the women got to hacking it apart with a VERY dull knife, I was charged with peeling the peas, which I did frustratingly slowly for the women watching me. While I stood their peeling the peas and laughing as baby chickens scurried over my feet and the kitchen filled with smoke, a maggot suddenly dropped from a hanging basket into the bowl of peas that I had peeled. Looking back on it, I took this incredibly calmly, much more calmly than I would have a year ago. Maggots, bloody duck hearts, dull knives, and eating until you think you might puke and then drinking moonshine are all things that one comes to think of as normal in my region of Peru. I will be coming back to the United States much tougher than I was and also much less likely to freak out if something isn't perfect. Along the lines of the dull knives and the maggots, we volunteers often laugh at the notion of sending a plate of food back purely because it has a hair in it. I often wonder how long it will take for me to get back into my American mindset of demanding perfect hygiene and constant refrigeration but I hope that I retain some of the toughness that I have gained here.
After putting away enough rice, duck, and msg to make me feel sick (and I have a pretty large appetite), we started the toasting. The women said some wonderful things about me and I realized that this was where I wanted to be for my 24th birthday. I miss my family and I wish they could be here but I have shared and will share many more birthdays with them. This was one of those special moments when I realize that I made the right decision in coming to Peru for two years. I go through phases where these moments are few and far between but lately, I have found myself in many situations where I say to myself, "it is pretty awesome that I am here right now." That sounds super cheesy but it's difficult not to get sentimental when people of a different culture and from such a different background than myself make an effort to make me feel like part of the crew. I have to remember these moments at times like right now when I pour my coffee into a cracked mug or last night when the heat prevents me from sleeping. I still live by the mantra that in the Peace Corps you can have the best day and the worst day of your life on the same day. After I responded by giving my own sentimental toast thanking the women for the lessons that they have taught me over the last year, the day only got better as I got to dance with all of the women and we laughed and joked around. One of the most interesting moments was when I bonded with one of the women over both being 24, granted this was as she nursed her fourth child. We are looking forward to celebrating her 25th together in June. I don't have much opportunity to hang out socially with these women. Usually we are just carrying water and planting trees and I have come to realize that I need to create more social opportunities because they have been some of the most welcoming and consistently supportive people that I have met. It is easy to fall into staying in my room and watching Lost on my laptop during my free time (What is going to happen?!), it is important to get out and spend time with the people who make my life here worthwhile.
Now I Really Feel Like a Spinster
This week Doña Blanca arrived in Pacora after leaving for a few months to undergo cataract surgery in Lima. Those of you who read about her in earlier blogs may remember her as my eccentric host grandmother who tells wild stories about her youth in Pacora. Doña Blanca sits all morning and a lot of the afternoon at the kitchen table so anyone in the kitchen becomes a subject under her reign. She is always sure to make it known when she is hungry or wants her coffee. If Mariela delays in preparing breakfast, Doña Blanca does not hold back in her complaints. She is truly a community elder who has earned her sense of entitlement and makes sure to take full advantage of her status to get what she wants. She can't hear or see very well but she has an unbelievable memory and has read about a huge range of topics. She is generally more up to date on current events in the U.S. that I am because, due to her inability to get around very well, she sits and listens to news on the radio (at full volume) for hours a day. Her virtual deafness and blindness makes it so she doesn't always notice when there is already a conversation going on and will launch into epic tales of taking produce to market 50 miles by burro or Romeo and Juliet style romances that occurred among her classmates. I love listening to her stories and I am thankful that she carries on one-sided conversations because it requires screaming in her face to talk to her and I generally don't have the energy for that. Between cultural and language barriers I already have plenty of trouble communicating with people that aren't deaf. One of the funniest Doña Blanca story telling techniques is the list. Sometimes she will start telling about the fruit trees they used to grow on her land before it became the street behind my houseand then she will start listing them similar to how Bubba lists the ways of preparing shrimp in one of my favorite scenes in Forest Gump. Her lists are always very extensive and the volume fades in and out as she thinks of more items to list. While she covers the entire inventory of whatever she happens to be talking about Mariela and I can carry on an entire conversation and then tune back in as she finishes without her noticing. In the most recent and funniest of her listing stories she listed all of her grandchildren and their skin color ranging from white to black. Doña Blanca (a nickname that refers to her white skin color relative to other Peruvians. Her real name is Evangelina) provides me with endless knowledge about topics ranging from food to world history and I am glad to have her back. I know she will be a commonly occurring character in blog entries to come.
Mariela, Doña Blanca, and I all have birthdays in the upcoming week so we decided to throw a party for some friends and family. We pushed the party up a few days so that Mariela's family who is in town to celebrate the holidays could attend. A typical Peruvian party is made up of a few key ingredients, a goat, a few crates of beer, and multiple giants speakers of the sort found at concerts. Our party had all these things so it was sure to be a success. I put in the food and Mariela suggested that she contract the speakers. Although I would have preferred to have a more American style party with the music set at volumes that facilitate conversation, I was glad to see Mariela's enthusiasm and figured that I was in the minority so I thanked Mariela for her contribution and prepared for a memorable event. True to form, the majority of guests showed up a couple of hours late and the festivities began. I am pretty sure that I consumed more calories that afternoon than I had in the week preceding it. After a few rounds of passing the communal beer glass we cranked up the volume and started to dance. My favorite part of the party was when everyone danced around me in a circle and took turns dancing with me in the center. I got quite the quad workout because lots of the people I danced with insisted on getting low. I guess that counts as the cross training that my marathon training program required for that day. The new mayor was in attendance and served me a glass or two of beer when it came his turn to choose who drank next. My site mate who had come to help me celebrate (and to provide moral support in the daunting task of participating in a Peruvian party) commented that this was a good strategy for getting work done in Peace Corps Peru and I commented that it was a good sign for the upcoming year. After dancing until I had to take off my shoes in order to attempt the fancy footwork of the local traditional dance of marinera, everyone left in good spirits. I am definitely glad to have celebrated with my friends and I even got to make some new ones. One woman in attendance is from Pacora but currently lived in Queens and she offered to show me the Peruvian cultural hot spots when I am in the U.S. and missing Peruvian culture. I only wish that I could have all my friends at my birthday party next year in the U.S. I might make those of you that celebrate with me do a little dancing for the sake of remembering the Peruvian culture that I have come to embrace.
This party was not my only birthday party this week. The women that I work with planting trees in the natural protected area near my site had been talking for a long time about doing something for my birthday so when the time came, I planned to do a lunch the day of my birthday with them. Hanging out with these women is always fun because they are a rowdy bunch who like to tell dirty jokes and dance. We started out by cooking the duck that I had brought in the traditional Peruvian way with peas, carrots, and rice, all in beer in coca cola. While we were cooking, the chickens and dogs were running around at our feet and I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the chicken that will probably serve as lunch in the near future who was pecking away at the cauldron where the duck was being cooked. The live animal and the meal it provides are not seen as two separate entities but as stages within the same process. These two elements are much closer than the cow we see in the country field and the neatly packaged t-bone steak we buy at the grocery store in the United States. The duck that I bought was plucked but was pretty much still in the shape of a duck complete with the majority of its guts. While one of the women got to hacking it apart with a VERY dull knife, I was charged with peeling the peas, which I did frustratingly slowly for the women watching me. While I stood their peeling the peas and laughing as baby chickens scurried over my feet and the kitchen filled with smoke, a maggot suddenly dropped from a hanging basket into the bowl of peas that I had peeled. Looking back on it, I took this incredibly calmly, much more calmly than I would have a year ago. Maggots, bloody duck hearts, dull knives, and eating until you think you might puke and then drinking moonshine are all things that one comes to think of as normal in my region of Peru. I will be coming back to the United States much tougher than I was and also much less likely to freak out if something isn't perfect. Along the lines of the dull knives and the maggots, we volunteers often laugh at the notion of sending a plate of food back purely because it has a hair in it. I often wonder how long it will take for me to get back into my American mindset of demanding perfect hygiene and constant refrigeration but I hope that I retain some of the toughness that I have gained here.
After putting away enough rice, duck, and msg to make me feel sick (and I have a pretty large appetite), we started the toasting. The women said some wonderful things about me and I realized that this was where I wanted to be for my 24th birthday. I miss my family and I wish they could be here but I have shared and will share many more birthdays with them. This was one of those special moments when I realize that I made the right decision in coming to Peru for two years. I go through phases where these moments are few and far between but lately, I have found myself in many situations where I say to myself, "it is pretty awesome that I am here right now." That sounds super cheesy but it's difficult not to get sentimental when people of a different culture and from such a different background than myself make an effort to make me feel like part of the crew. I have to remember these moments at times like right now when I pour my coffee into a cracked mug or last night when the heat prevents me from sleeping. I still live by the mantra that in the Peace Corps you can have the best day and the worst day of your life on the same day. After I responded by giving my own sentimental toast thanking the women for the lessons that they have taught me over the last year, the day only got better as I got to dance with all of the women and we laughed and joked around. One of the most interesting moments was when I bonded with one of the women over both being 24, granted this was as she nursed her fourth child. We are looking forward to celebrating her 25th together in June. I don't have much opportunity to hang out socially with these women. Usually we are just carrying water and planting trees and I have come to realize that I need to create more social opportunities because they have been some of the most welcoming and consistently supportive people that I have met. It is easy to fall into staying in my room and watching Lost on my laptop during my free time (What is going to happen?!), it is important to get out and spend time with the people who make my life here worthwhile.
Mariela, Doña Blanca, and I all have birthdays in the upcoming week so we decided to throw a party for some friends and family. We pushed the party up a few days so that Mariela's family who is in town to celebrate the holidays could attend. A typical Peruvian party is made up of a few key ingredients, a goat, a few crates of beer, and multiple giants speakers of the sort found at concerts. Our party had all these things so it was sure to be a success. I put in the food and Mariela suggested that she contract the speakers. Although I would have preferred to have a more American style party with the music set at volumes that facilitate conversation, I was glad to see Mariela's enthusiasm and figured that I was in the minority so I thanked Mariela for her contribution and prepared for a memorable event. True to form, the majority of guests showed up a couple of hours late and the festivities began. I am pretty sure that I consumed more calories that afternoon than I had in the week preceding it. After a few rounds of passing the communal beer glass we cranked up the volume and started to dance. My favorite part of the party was when everyone danced around me in a circle and took turns dancing with me in the center. I got quite the quad workout because lots of the people I danced with insisted on getting low. I guess that counts as the cross training that my marathon training program required for that day. The new mayor was in attendance and served me a glass or two of beer when it came his turn to choose who drank next. My site mate who had come to help me celebrate (and to provide moral support in the daunting task of participating in a Peruvian party) commented that this was a good strategy for getting work done in Peace Corps Peru and I commented that it was a good sign for the upcoming year. After dancing until I had to take off my shoes in order to attempt the fancy footwork of the local traditional dance of marinera, everyone left in good spirits. I am definitely glad to have celebrated with my friends and I even got to make some new ones. One woman in attendance is from Pacora but currently lived in Queens and she offered to show me the Peruvian cultural hot spots when I am in the U.S. and missing Peruvian culture. I only wish that I could have all my friends at my birthday party next year in the U.S. I might make those of you that celebrate with me do a little dancing for the sake of remembering the Peruvian culture that I have come to embrace.
This party was not my only birthday party this week. The women that I work with planting trees in the natural protected area near my site had been talking for a long time about doing something for my birthday so when the time came, I planned to do a lunch the day of my birthday with them. Hanging out with these women is always fun because they are a rowdy bunch who like to tell dirty jokes and dance. We started out by cooking the duck that I had brought in the traditional Peruvian way with peas, carrots, and rice, all in beer in coca cola. While we were cooking, the chickens and dogs were running around at our feet and I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the chicken that will probably serve as lunch in the near future who was pecking away at the cauldron where the duck was being cooked. The live animal and the meal it provides are not seen as two separate entities but as stages within the same process. These two elements are much closer than the cow we see in the country field and the neatly packaged t-bone steak we buy at the grocery store in the United States. The duck that I bought was plucked but was pretty much still in the shape of a duck complete with the majority of its guts. While one of the women got to hacking it apart with a VERY dull knife, I was charged with peeling the peas, which I did frustratingly slowly for the women watching me. While I stood their peeling the peas and laughing as baby chickens scurried over my feet and the kitchen filled with smoke, a maggot suddenly dropped from a hanging basket into the bowl of peas that I had peeled. Looking back on it, I took this incredibly calmly, much more calmly than I would have a year ago. Maggots, bloody duck hearts, dull knives, and eating until you think you might puke and then drinking moonshine are all things that one comes to think of as normal in my region of Peru. I will be coming back to the United States much tougher than I was and also much less likely to freak out if something isn't perfect. Along the lines of the dull knives and the maggots, we volunteers often laugh at the notion of sending a plate of food back purely because it has a hair in it. I often wonder how long it will take for me to get back into my American mindset of demanding perfect hygiene and constant refrigeration but I hope that I retain some of the toughness that I have gained here.
After putting away enough rice, duck, and msg to make me feel sick (and I have a pretty large appetite), we started the toasting. The women said some wonderful things about me and I realized that this was where I wanted to be for my 24th birthday. I miss my family and I wish they could be here but I have shared and will share many more birthdays with them. This was one of those special moments when I realize that I made the right decision in coming to Peru for two years. I go through phases where these moments are few and far between but lately, I have found myself in many situations where I say to myself, "it is pretty awesome that I am here right now." That sounds super cheesy but it's difficult not to get sentimental when people of a different culture and from such a different background than myself make an effort to make me feel like part of the crew. I have to remember these moments at times like right now when I pour my coffee into a cracked mug or last night when the heat prevents me from sleeping. I still live by the mantra that in the Peace Corps you can have the best day and the worst day of your life on the same day. After I responded by giving my own sentimental toast thanking the women for the lessons that they have taught me over the last year, the day only got better as I got to dance with all of the women and we laughed and joked around. One of the most interesting moments was when I bonded with one of the women over both being 24, granted this was as she nursed her fourth child. We are looking forward to celebrating her 25th together in June. I don't have much opportunity to hang out socially with these women. Usually we are just carrying water and planting trees and I have come to realize that I need to create more social opportunities because they have been some of the most welcoming and consistently supportive people that I have met. It is easy to fall into staying in my room and watching Lost on my laptop during my free time (What is going to happen?!), it is important to get out and spend time with the people who make my life here worthwhile.
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Circus Comes to Town
Before starting this blog I want to give the disclaimer that some things are represented a little negatively (namely the crazy circus that has been set up behind my house for a few weeks now) however, I am still enjoying my time in Peru and I love the town I live in, Pacora Lambayeque. I am in the process of getting used to being back in Peru and it has been surprisingly difficult to reacclimatize to my life here after only a week at home. I think that this trip served to juxtapose what my life would be in the U.S. with the life that I live now. The contrast is more extreme than I realized when the U.S. was a distant memory that I had let go of over a year ago. My last blog discussed the shock I felt at going home at phenomena such as Costco and varied food but the reverse has been true upon my return to Peru. When I went to the States I realized that I had forgotten about sharp knives, plumbing that can handle toilet paper, dishwashers, and not living in a fishbowl. In many ways it was refreshing to have the ease of life that these things bring but it was also a bit uncomfortable to feel so spoiled. Overall, my trip home to the U.S. made me contemplate what my life would be like if I hadn't joined the Peace Corps, but I am glad to be back so that I can have a successful and productive second year. I just need a few days to get used to the small things that I had pretty much forgotten about.
I recognize that much suffering occurs in the United States but it is not part of my daily life so I can go about my living without spending much energy worrying about it. Unfortunately, where I live in Peru there is no ignoring the machismo and other ugly realities that impact my experience. The circus that had set up behind my house while I was gone has served as a harsh reminder of the suffering that I come into contact with in Peru. It is a common theme in literature and movies that outsiders bring in trouble and turmoil. Two examples of this are the portrayal of gypsies in movies and books and the circus in the book Water for Elephants. The circus consists of a giant tent, a caged lion, a few caged goats, and a few trailer houses where the owners live. Since they come to collect water from the spigot at my house I have gotten a first hand view of the turmoil that wracks the circus and has begun to emerge as a negative influence on the town. There is adultery, domestic violence, neglected children running around my yard, and neglected animals. Every time I go outside I can hear the lioness crying from her tiny cage presumably asking to be fed. The harsh realities of life in a developing country are represented at an extreme level by this traveling show where perhaps the most entertainment has come from the gossip that the people behind the clown makeup have generated. The circus is finally packing up to leave taking with them two community members, a young girl running off with a clown and a boy who was unable to find work here in Pacora. The police and the mother got involved this morning trying to prevent the teenage girl from running off but to no avail. My dislike of clowns used to be based on their annoying humor and creepy makeup but now I associate them with wife-beating and running away with underage girls so my dislike has become a bit stronger.
Summer vacation in Pacora means trees drooping under the weight of mangoes and avocadoes everywhere you look, unlimited time spent playing in irrigation canals, and lots of visitors. Much of my host mom's family has come to town and one in particular has been very interesting to talk to. He lives in the principality of Lichtenstein and practices shamanism. He has told me the entire history of the ghost that lives in my house because he was buried where the house now stands in the 1800s. He and various other family members claim to have seen and even interacted with this ghost and his ghost friends on occasion. I find all of this very fascinating even though I do not really ascribe to this form of spirituality. After taking me on a tour of the spots in the house that the ghost likes to hang out, I requested that he read my aura, which is a trade he has been studying in Lichtenstein. He didn't give me that much information but he did ask me if I have come into contact with twins recently and suggested that some twins might visit me. I have no idea how to process or analyze this prediction but we will see what happens. My host mom's reading was much more informative most likely because he knows her and could make predictions pertaining to specific members of her family. The fact that he had to know so much in advance leaves me with doubt about his ability to predict but at the very least this served as a bonding experience for Mariela and myself. One of my favorite things about living in Peru is the license and opportunity it gives me to try things that I never thought I would from eating animal organs to spiritual readings.
Aside from the traveling band of crazies that set up camp in my backyard, life at my house has been excellent. My host mom (who is actually more of a friend who just happens to be in a more maternal life stage than myself) will be turning 34 next week only 5 days after I turn 24. We are going to throw a party where I will buy the goat, which I will then have the neighbor slaughter. We will prepare it with loche (a squash typical of Northern Peru), vinegar, vegetables, beans, rice, and plenty of MSG, salt, and garlic. We are going to invite some friends and dance the night away to celebrate another year. I'm sure this event will generate some stories so I will definitely fill you in in my next entry. My life tends to generate interesting anecdotes and I foresee my 24th birthday party generating a couple although hopefully they do not involve anyone running off with the circus.
I recognize that much suffering occurs in the United States but it is not part of my daily life so I can go about my living without spending much energy worrying about it. Unfortunately, where I live in Peru there is no ignoring the machismo and other ugly realities that impact my experience. The circus that had set up behind my house while I was gone has served as a harsh reminder of the suffering that I come into contact with in Peru. It is a common theme in literature and movies that outsiders bring in trouble and turmoil. Two examples of this are the portrayal of gypsies in movies and books and the circus in the book Water for Elephants. The circus consists of a giant tent, a caged lion, a few caged goats, and a few trailer houses where the owners live. Since they come to collect water from the spigot at my house I have gotten a first hand view of the turmoil that wracks the circus and has begun to emerge as a negative influence on the town. There is adultery, domestic violence, neglected children running around my yard, and neglected animals. Every time I go outside I can hear the lioness crying from her tiny cage presumably asking to be fed. The harsh realities of life in a developing country are represented at an extreme level by this traveling show where perhaps the most entertainment has come from the gossip that the people behind the clown makeup have generated. The circus is finally packing up to leave taking with them two community members, a young girl running off with a clown and a boy who was unable to find work here in Pacora. The police and the mother got involved this morning trying to prevent the teenage girl from running off but to no avail. My dislike of clowns used to be based on their annoying humor and creepy makeup but now I associate them with wife-beating and running away with underage girls so my dislike has become a bit stronger.
Summer vacation in Pacora means trees drooping under the weight of mangoes and avocadoes everywhere you look, unlimited time spent playing in irrigation canals, and lots of visitors. Much of my host mom's family has come to town and one in particular has been very interesting to talk to. He lives in the principality of Lichtenstein and practices shamanism. He has told me the entire history of the ghost that lives in my house because he was buried where the house now stands in the 1800s. He and various other family members claim to have seen and even interacted with this ghost and his ghost friends on occasion. I find all of this very fascinating even though I do not really ascribe to this form of spirituality. After taking me on a tour of the spots in the house that the ghost likes to hang out, I requested that he read my aura, which is a trade he has been studying in Lichtenstein. He didn't give me that much information but he did ask me if I have come into contact with twins recently and suggested that some twins might visit me. I have no idea how to process or analyze this prediction but we will see what happens. My host mom's reading was much more informative most likely because he knows her and could make predictions pertaining to specific members of her family. The fact that he had to know so much in advance leaves me with doubt about his ability to predict but at the very least this served as a bonding experience for Mariela and myself. One of my favorite things about living in Peru is the license and opportunity it gives me to try things that I never thought I would from eating animal organs to spiritual readings.
Aside from the traveling band of crazies that set up camp in my backyard, life at my house has been excellent. My host mom (who is actually more of a friend who just happens to be in a more maternal life stage than myself) will be turning 34 next week only 5 days after I turn 24. We are going to throw a party where I will buy the goat, which I will then have the neighbor slaughter. We will prepare it with loche (a squash typical of Northern Peru), vinegar, vegetables, beans, rice, and plenty of MSG, salt, and garlic. We are going to invite some friends and dance the night away to celebrate another year. I'm sure this event will generate some stories so I will definitely fill you in in my next entry. My life tends to generate interesting anecdotes and I foresee my 24th birthday party generating a couple although hopefully they do not involve anyone running off with the circus.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Surprise! I'm Home!
I hadn't planned on going home during my two years in Peru because we have limited funds and limited vacation time as volunteers but as Christmas rolled around and one after the other of my friends started telling me of their plans to go back to that dreamland we in the Peace Corps refer to simply as AMERICA, I couldn't help but feel tempted to make the journey. I didn't think about it seriously until right around Thanksgiving when I mentioned casually to my dad that most of my friends were going home. I honestly wasn't fishing for an invitation, I was just stating that it surprised me how many were going back. We were chatting online, me in my office (Starbucks) and my dad in his chair and as soon as he offered to bring me home for Christmas tears started rolling down my face. Even now as I think back on it (again in Starbucks), my eyes get a little misty. I haven't been a big crier lately so I took this reaction to mean that I would really like to go home! My dad said "let me think about this overnight" and the next morning when I checked my email the subject heading of the email from my dad was "Lets do it!" we decided to keep it between us and thus set in motion the most exciting trick I have ever pulled off. The first step in our grand scheme to surprise the family was to enlist the help of a trusted person with a credit card my mom wouldn't be tracking. Grandma Betty was the perfect candidate and she kept our secret very well.
I arrived in Portland fresh from one-year medical checks so I knew that I wasn't bringing any mysterious parasites into the USA. I have somewhat of an iron gut so I haven't had any stomach problems yet which meant I was not as well versed in stool sample collection as some of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers. Now I can say that I have my own strategy for collection and I can check one more thing off my bucket list (this whole reflection on pooping in a cup is probably an overshare but the Peace Corps has clouded my judgment on the line for bodily function talk). Anyway, without worms or cavities, I was ready to surprise the family. My dad dropped my mom at the Subaru dealership to wait for the car to get repaired and then said he had to pick up her gift. He came out to the airport, picked me up, and then we headed back to get my mom. When I walked in she was so engrossed in the quote that the mechanic had given her for the repairs that she didn't even look up before starting to read off to my dad how much it was going to cost. When she finished her list of prices she finally looked up to see me standing over her. She stared at me for a while and I awkwardly smiled waiting for her to smile/cry/hug me/get mad/respond in some way! Finally she jumped up and hugged me and we both let out a few tears of happiness. That was quite possibly my most exciting Christmas moment ever. That night I got to repeat the emotional embrace when we picked my sister up at the airport. My parents hid behind a post while I waited for my sister to walk up the ramp out of the secure area. I hadn't seen her in the full 15 months since I left and during that time she has turned 21, gotten engaged, turned 22, finished college, and is in the process of moving to Manhattan so I was pretty excited to catch up with her.
Over the next few days I got to surprise my entire family. Some reactions were very emotional while others were completely anticlimactic. A couple of my uncles assumed that they had been told that I would be there but just weren't paying attention at the time so they didn't seem surprised at all. All the reactions made me emotional and I just couldn't snap out of my state of extreme happiness at being home.
Aside from seeing family, my top priority while in the US was eating all the things that are either non-existent or unaffordable in Peru. This list included pub food, Mexican food, sushi, and Indian food. I ate everything except the Indian food and I was able to add a few more exciting things like Peruvian food. It was all delicious and the fact that there are now two Peruvian restaurants in Portland makes me be proud to be an honorary Peruvian. I can't wait to tell my Peruvian friends that their cuisine is now a trendy favorite in the U.S.
The most overwhelming food experience that I had while in the States was at Costco. I insisted on going with my mom and the experience turned out to be a shocking welcome home to AMERICA. At my house in Peru there is hardly ever extra food and we would never buy in bulk because we don't have a refrigerator and the mice and flies get into anything hanging around. The strangest thing about Costco was that I wanted everything but I couldn't quite comprehend buying that quantity. The first thing that I was drawn to was a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting topped with nuts. I have searched for an appetizing version of this particular desert since I have been here only to meet with dry cake, bizarre frosting, and other disappointments. The giant cake was only $12.99 so my first thought was "how can I not buy this?" My mom caught up to me and I was holding the cake, ready to put it in the cart but then I got overwhelmed at the thought of SO MUCH carrot cake and I said, "mom, do they have a smaller one?" She looked at me like I was ridiculous and reminded me, "Dani, we are at Costco." I returned the cake to repeat the exact same interaction with the muffins, bacon, cheeses, bagels, trail mix, and pretty much all the other treats in the store all the while trying every sample that I could get my hands on. When it was time to leave, I was nowhere to be found so my sister set out on a search only to find me staring at the 3 lb. pumpkin pies. I had been craving pumpkin pie since Thanksgiving and this giant pie was only $5.99 but there was no way my family could eat it all in a reasonable time period. The dilemma was debilitating and I just stood there weighing the pros and cons until my sister came to drag me out of the store. We ended up leaving with lots of cheese and not much else. I definitely enjoyed my time at Costco but I think the normal grocery store will do for now.
This trip reminded me how much I appreciate the United States with all its respect for racial women and diversity and the general ease of life. The transition back to my Peace Corps life will undoubtedly be a bit rough but I look forward to returning to my work and being a motivated and productive volunteer this year. 2010 was the fastest year of my life so far and everyone says that the second year of Peace Corps goes way faster. I will be back before Thanksgiving next year so this was my final holiday season in the Peace Corps.
I arrived in Portland fresh from one-year medical checks so I knew that I wasn't bringing any mysterious parasites into the USA. I have somewhat of an iron gut so I haven't had any stomach problems yet which meant I was not as well versed in stool sample collection as some of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers. Now I can say that I have my own strategy for collection and I can check one more thing off my bucket list (this whole reflection on pooping in a cup is probably an overshare but the Peace Corps has clouded my judgment on the line for bodily function talk). Anyway, without worms or cavities, I was ready to surprise the family. My dad dropped my mom at the Subaru dealership to wait for the car to get repaired and then said he had to pick up her gift. He came out to the airport, picked me up, and then we headed back to get my mom. When I walked in she was so engrossed in the quote that the mechanic had given her for the repairs that she didn't even look up before starting to read off to my dad how much it was going to cost. When she finished her list of prices she finally looked up to see me standing over her. She stared at me for a while and I awkwardly smiled waiting for her to smile/cry/hug me/get mad/respond in some way! Finally she jumped up and hugged me and we both let out a few tears of happiness. That was quite possibly my most exciting Christmas moment ever. That night I got to repeat the emotional embrace when we picked my sister up at the airport. My parents hid behind a post while I waited for my sister to walk up the ramp out of the secure area. I hadn't seen her in the full 15 months since I left and during that time she has turned 21, gotten engaged, turned 22, finished college, and is in the process of moving to Manhattan so I was pretty excited to catch up with her.
Over the next few days I got to surprise my entire family. Some reactions were very emotional while others were completely anticlimactic. A couple of my uncles assumed that they had been told that I would be there but just weren't paying attention at the time so they didn't seem surprised at all. All the reactions made me emotional and I just couldn't snap out of my state of extreme happiness at being home.
Aside from seeing family, my top priority while in the US was eating all the things that are either non-existent or unaffordable in Peru. This list included pub food, Mexican food, sushi, and Indian food. I ate everything except the Indian food and I was able to add a few more exciting things like Peruvian food. It was all delicious and the fact that there are now two Peruvian restaurants in Portland makes me be proud to be an honorary Peruvian. I can't wait to tell my Peruvian friends that their cuisine is now a trendy favorite in the U.S.
The most overwhelming food experience that I had while in the States was at Costco. I insisted on going with my mom and the experience turned out to be a shocking welcome home to AMERICA. At my house in Peru there is hardly ever extra food and we would never buy in bulk because we don't have a refrigerator and the mice and flies get into anything hanging around. The strangest thing about Costco was that I wanted everything but I couldn't quite comprehend buying that quantity. The first thing that I was drawn to was a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting topped with nuts. I have searched for an appetizing version of this particular desert since I have been here only to meet with dry cake, bizarre frosting, and other disappointments. The giant cake was only $12.99 so my first thought was "how can I not buy this?" My mom caught up to me and I was holding the cake, ready to put it in the cart but then I got overwhelmed at the thought of SO MUCH carrot cake and I said, "mom, do they have a smaller one?" She looked at me like I was ridiculous and reminded me, "Dani, we are at Costco." I returned the cake to repeat the exact same interaction with the muffins, bacon, cheeses, bagels, trail mix, and pretty much all the other treats in the store all the while trying every sample that I could get my hands on. When it was time to leave, I was nowhere to be found so my sister set out on a search only to find me staring at the 3 lb. pumpkin pies. I had been craving pumpkin pie since Thanksgiving and this giant pie was only $5.99 but there was no way my family could eat it all in a reasonable time period. The dilemma was debilitating and I just stood there weighing the pros and cons until my sister came to drag me out of the store. We ended up leaving with lots of cheese and not much else. I definitely enjoyed my time at Costco but I think the normal grocery store will do for now.
This trip reminded me how much I appreciate the United States with all its respect for racial women and diversity and the general ease of life. The transition back to my Peace Corps life will undoubtedly be a bit rough but I look forward to returning to my work and being a motivated and productive volunteer this year. 2010 was the fastest year of my life so far and everyone says that the second year of Peace Corps goes way faster. I will be back before Thanksgiving next year so this was my final holiday season in the Peace Corps.
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