Diagnostic Troubles

I am sitting here eating lunch and trying to work on my community diagnostic, which is technically due by the end of the week, and I realize why I usually head into Chiclayo to work on anything that involves focus. I lost complete focus about 30 seconds ago when my host brother-in-law came into the room with a live chicken and proceeded to saw at its jugular with a dull kitchen knife. He then shook out as much blood as possible as I pushed the remainder of my lunch and my community diagnostic to the side. Currently, he is laughing as the dead chicken makes strange noises as he plucks it. So much for concentration but at least I know where my dinner came from!
It is Monday 1:30 and while I have been working diligently all morning to get a recycling campaign off the ground at the elementary school, my neighborhood has been drinking on the sidewalk in front of my house since 9 am. I guess I am still in the American mindset that Monday morning is a dreaded hour where one returns to the grind but apparently that doesn't always apply when Sunday night's party was too good to end. I ask my host sister what the occasion is and she laughs as if this is irrelevant. I think this was the first time I've been made to feel guilty about turning down booze at 10 am on a Monday while on my way to work in the elementary school.
I don't want to give the impression that this is a regular occurrence, it usually only happens on Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays. The majority of town has been hard at work today, including myself. I have actually had a rewarding morning in the Peace Corps. I had asked the elementary school teachers to help me design a recycling campaign and we came up with handing out sacks to each student to fill with recyclables which they will bring back to the school in exchange for stickers, pencils, and candies (care of Aunt Patty and my mom). We will then sell the recycling and buy something for the school or throw a little party. Today I was pleasantly surprised to find that a bunch of students had actually brought their bags back full of plastic bottles, paper, cardboard, and tin cans! Once the students who had forgotten the bags saw the stickers I was handing out they got really excited and promised me they will bring their bags tomorrow. Overall, the first phase of this project has been much more successful than I was anticipating and I look forward to going back tomorrow to find that even more students have brought in their recyclables. Another reason this project has felt so successful is that I have enlisted the teachers to talk to their students about how recycling benefits both human beings and our environment. I have never felt so excited about the potential impact of one of my projects.
In other news, I recently returned from Lima where I was working on planning a women's HIV/AIDS leadership workshop where we will work with female leaders on relevant skills. My favorite of these skills is "negotiation techniques." The machismo in Peru has made it difficult for women to take charge of their own birth control and the men are completely against condoms so we will work on self esteem and "negotiation" (I find this business-like explanation of the family planning process comical and disturbing at the same time). I am looking forward to this workshop and conference because I have become passionate about women's rights and sexual rights in particular.
When I arrived from Lima I found that 6 guinea pigs had been born while I was away. I enjoy watching the baby guinea pigs follow their mothers around so I was thrilled. I stupidly did not learn my lesson the last two litters of guinea pigs all of whom died, and I quickly got attached. The next day, there were two left. Some had disappeared, probably thanks to the neighbor's cat, but worse than that were the rapidly decomposing baby guinea pigs in the corner of the cage covered in ants. Ants have become the bane of my existence as they are tiny but numerous and relentless. Anyone who has read the Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver probably remembers the scene where the ants come in and devour everything in their path leaving only carcasses of animals in their wake. The ant feeding frenzy through the guinea pig cage was kinda like that.
Now that the plucking process is done and I'm only slightly nauseous, I think I will head out back to my hammock to decompress before tackling my community diagnostic with a newfound appreciation for my current situation. It is moments like this when I look around and realize that I am still outside my comfort zone even after 4 months in my site. As I watch my host sister gut the chicken I realize that a sharp knife could be an excellent gift to my host family, and it might help me stomach the process a little more easily.