As some of you may have noticed last week, I was responding to e-mails with record speed. That was because I was stuck in Huaraz, my regional capitol for four days. On Saturday night I was supposed to head to Lima for my mid-service medical/dental checkups, but on Thursday, I got an e-mail from the “volunteer leader” living in Huaraz that there was a huge strike going on, and going in that night might be my only chance to get to Lima. A big mining company was planning to open a mine about an hour out of Huaraz, near a big lake, and the local farmers were trying to shut down all transport in protest. I threw my stuff in a bag and made it to Huaraz, where everything seemed normal, and I went to bed thinking “just another big deal about nothing.”
But waking up Friday was a much different story. Before we even had the chance to get out of bed, we were getting phone calls saying “don’t go outside, don’t leave your hostel.” That sounded a bit extreme, so we edged out of the hostel, on a quest for orange juice and the truth. After passing the government tax office and seeing their huge picture windows shattered, we knew it was the real deal, and after seeing a rush of people sprint up the street away from the main plaza, we hightailed it to a friend’s apartment. We found the local news on TV and saw tear gas being thrown, burning tires, rioters throwing rocks and riot police throwing them right back. Word was there were no cars on the road and no transportation going anywhere…we were stuck. Although Saturday morning I went to the plaza early to see the damage, and while it was mostly empty there was a small group of municipal garbage men playing pickup soccer in front of the municipality, using rocks that were brought in to block off the street as goal markers.
Long story short, the strike continued for 2 more days. All of the stores, were shuttered, no cars passed through town and farmers came from all over, some allegedly walking as far as 40 kilometers to join the protest. Bank windows were smashed, as were any windows of government building and most of the city’s ATMs. I felt safe enough, but it was weird to think of the city that I usually see as so friendly and safe falling down around us. Finally on Sunday afternoon, we heard that the government gave in and told the mine it had to go, and here I am Monday afternoon sitting on a bus on my way to Lima. But we have passed knocked down roadblocks, piles of soot that were recently tires and painted signs saying “support the strike” and “the water belongs to the people, not to the mine”.
We have also passed numerous schools, health posts and public projects supported by various mines. Even the school in my town, which is not really near any mines, has desks donated by the mines. It’s another one of the paradoxes that make life in Peru just as confusing as always.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
so it has been a year
Well, while all of you folks in the Northeastern US of A, get to experience a beautiful and cozy fall, with leaves changing and sweaters and thanksgiving, here our only seasonal transition is rain. And more rain. After not having seen a legitimate rain shower since August, it has come down hard and steady every day for the past week, changing the dust to mud, and preventing dedicated Peace Corps volunteers from leaving their houses after mid-day. But this transition also means that I have made it full circle, through one rotation of the Earth around the sun—I have been in Yanamito for one year, which is very, very hard to believe.
Before I reflect a little on the first half of the strangeness that is my life in Peru, I’ll update everyone on the goings on of the past month or so. Probably the most exciting thing I have done recently was my first trek in Peru.
Wanting to get in one good outdoor adventure before the rain struck, Pete, our friend Will and I decided to set off on the Santa Cruz trek at the end of October. The Santa Cruz trek starts about 3 hours away from us, goes for about 50km (that’s right I’m on the metric system now…it sounds more impressive) and end on the other side of the Andes. It is the most popular trek in Ancash, with over 5000 trekkers per year and it starts and ends in Peace Corps sites. It usually takes 4 days, but since we are all acclimatized to altitude, and we wanted to prove that Peace Corps volunteers are better than normal tourists, we did it in 3 fueled mostly on oatmeal, tuna fish and ramen. It was absolutely beautiful, and I understand why it is such a popular destination. We were constantly surrounded by immense snow covered peaks, we passed through awesome forests of native queñal trees and we got to hike through a 4700m mountain pass in the snow. The worst part was the ride home—5 hours in a miniature bus, about 20 different body parts falling asleep, with Peruvians staring at the gringos all the way down harrowing switchbacks. Overall, a very satisfying and enjoyable experience.
Next up on the fun calendar was Halloween. Proving that every Peace Corps volunteer has a little bit of kid and/or a little bit of college kid in them, we all went into the regional capitol, got dressed up and Halloween party. Pete, Kaitlyn and I dressed up as the dashing trio of Robin Hood, Maid Marion and Little John respectively. This presented awesome opportunities for us to where tights and funny hats and also to go to the market, buy fabric and drop it off at a lady with a sowing machine with a vague description of what we wanted done. I would say it turned out surprisingly well and I had fun struggling to hack the business end off of a broom with a Leatherman for my Little John stick.
While the party was fun, it was also a little melancholy because it served as a going away party as well, for the 7 Ancash volunteers who had finished their two years here. It was tough to say goodbye, and it also made it really hit home, that yes, I have been here a year. I remember meeting those kids for the first time on a training trip last Halloween, and thinking “wow, they’ve been here forever. They must have everything figured out.” Well, now I’m at that point and I don’t know if they had everything figured out or not, but I sure as hell don’t, although I’m a lot less confused than I used to be.
The day after Halloween here marks the day of the dead. We celebrated by making break, some of it in funny shapes (I made a tree, a turtle and the Yankees interlocking NY)
and going up to visit the cemetery, where flowers are put on graves and for some reason everyone eats ice cream. It was actually a really nice day. Mostly everyone in the community was at the cemetery together, and they were laid back, enjoying each others company, not hurrying to do anything or stressing about crops and animals. It was nice to spend time with everybody, and I learned a lot more about my host family and their deceased relatives (including the fact that my paternal grandfather’s bones are in a box in our store room. Don’t ask).
Lest anyone should think that Peace Corps is all treks and costume parties and ice cream in cemeteries, I have been getting some work done as well. The departing of old friends means that new ones arrive, and at the beginning of November the 6 environmental nubes came to Ancash to visit our sites and then theirs’. They came up to Yanamito for a day and we put everyone to work at the nursery school, with the PTA and an Engineer from the National Park office, building a small queñal tree nursery. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, and some of us got some blisters, but it now exists and looks really good (if I do say so myself).
It is also visible to the community, which is good, because that way they know that yes, sometimes I do do work and it gives me and excuse to talk about native specie reforestation anytime anyone mentions it. And talking to the new kids around different sites and in Huaraz made feel old and wise. Ok, not really either of those things, but it did make me realize that I have come a long way in the last year, and I know a lot more and feel a lot more comfortable than I did a year ago.
The rest of the big work I’ve been up has been in the school, as usual. The school year here goes from March/April (depending on the motivation levels of the teachers) to December, and so things are beginning to wind down. Inspired by the success and nice lookingness of the world map mural we did in August, I had the bright idea to draw and paint an environmental mural with the graduating 6th graders. I solicited submissions, and made the other teachers pick which one we should actually put up, so as to avoid any dirty looks or disparaging comments from the students whose work wasn’t chosen. We’re making progress on a nice mountain scene with a rainbow and some native animals, and knock on wood, it should be finished and look nice long before graduation.
And the national park people came back and we finally finished the puppet show that drove me to the drink last month. Hooray.
Which brings us to Thanksgiving 2010. Of course it’s a bummer not to be with family, but Peace Corps gives us a long weekend of vacation, so next best thing. I am on my way to Arequipa (southern part of the country, supposed to be stunning) with some good friends. It should be a lot of fun. And with that, I will finish up and check to see if it has stopped raining and I can go running. Happy thanksgiving to everyone.
Before I reflect a little on the first half of the strangeness that is my life in Peru, I’ll update everyone on the goings on of the past month or so. Probably the most exciting thing I have done recently was my first trek in Peru.
Wanting to get in one good outdoor adventure before the rain struck, Pete, our friend Will and I decided to set off on the Santa Cruz trek at the end of October. The Santa Cruz trek starts about 3 hours away from us, goes for about 50km (that’s right I’m on the metric system now…it sounds more impressive) and end on the other side of the Andes. It is the most popular trek in Ancash, with over 5000 trekkers per year and it starts and ends in Peace Corps sites. It usually takes 4 days, but since we are all acclimatized to altitude, and we wanted to prove that Peace Corps volunteers are better than normal tourists, we did it in 3 fueled mostly on oatmeal, tuna fish and ramen. It was absolutely beautiful, and I understand why it is such a popular destination. We were constantly surrounded by immense snow covered peaks, we passed through awesome forests of native queñal trees and we got to hike through a 4700m mountain pass in the snow. The worst part was the ride home—5 hours in a miniature bus, about 20 different body parts falling asleep, with Peruvians staring at the gringos all the way down harrowing switchbacks. Overall, a very satisfying and enjoyable experience.
Next up on the fun calendar was Halloween. Proving that every Peace Corps volunteer has a little bit of kid and/or a little bit of college kid in them, we all went into the regional capitol, got dressed up and Halloween party. Pete, Kaitlyn and I dressed up as the dashing trio of Robin Hood, Maid Marion and Little John respectively. This presented awesome opportunities for us to where tights and funny hats and also to go to the market, buy fabric and drop it off at a lady with a sowing machine with a vague description of what we wanted done. I would say it turned out surprisingly well and I had fun struggling to hack the business end off of a broom with a Leatherman for my Little John stick.
While the party was fun, it was also a little melancholy because it served as a going away party as well, for the 7 Ancash volunteers who had finished their two years here. It was tough to say goodbye, and it also made it really hit home, that yes, I have been here a year. I remember meeting those kids for the first time on a training trip last Halloween, and thinking “wow, they’ve been here forever. They must have everything figured out.” Well, now I’m at that point and I don’t know if they had everything figured out or not, but I sure as hell don’t, although I’m a lot less confused than I used to be.
The day after Halloween here marks the day of the dead. We celebrated by making break, some of it in funny shapes (I made a tree, a turtle and the Yankees interlocking NY)
and going up to visit the cemetery, where flowers are put on graves and for some reason everyone eats ice cream. It was actually a really nice day. Mostly everyone in the community was at the cemetery together, and they were laid back, enjoying each others company, not hurrying to do anything or stressing about crops and animals. It was nice to spend time with everybody, and I learned a lot more about my host family and their deceased relatives (including the fact that my paternal grandfather’s bones are in a box in our store room. Don’t ask).
Lest anyone should think that Peace Corps is all treks and costume parties and ice cream in cemeteries, I have been getting some work done as well. The departing of old friends means that new ones arrive, and at the beginning of November the 6 environmental nubes came to Ancash to visit our sites and then theirs’. They came up to Yanamito for a day and we put everyone to work at the nursery school, with the PTA and an Engineer from the National Park office, building a small queñal tree nursery. It took a lot longer than I thought it would, and some of us got some blisters, but it now exists and looks really good (if I do say so myself).
It is also visible to the community, which is good, because that way they know that yes, sometimes I do do work and it gives me and excuse to talk about native specie reforestation anytime anyone mentions it. And talking to the new kids around different sites and in Huaraz made feel old and wise. Ok, not really either of those things, but it did make me realize that I have come a long way in the last year, and I know a lot more and feel a lot more comfortable than I did a year ago.
The rest of the big work I’ve been up has been in the school, as usual. The school year here goes from March/April (depending on the motivation levels of the teachers) to December, and so things are beginning to wind down. Inspired by the success and nice lookingness of the world map mural we did in August, I had the bright idea to draw and paint an environmental mural with the graduating 6th graders. I solicited submissions, and made the other teachers pick which one we should actually put up, so as to avoid any dirty looks or disparaging comments from the students whose work wasn’t chosen. We’re making progress on a nice mountain scene with a rainbow and some native animals, and knock on wood, it should be finished and look nice long before graduation.
And the national park people came back and we finally finished the puppet show that drove me to the drink last month. Hooray.
Which brings us to Thanksgiving 2010. Of course it’s a bummer not to be with family, but Peace Corps gives us a long weekend of vacation, so next best thing. I am on my way to Arequipa (southern part of the country, supposed to be stunning) with some good friends. It should be a lot of fun. And with that, I will finish up and check to see if it has stopped raining and I can go running. Happy thanksgiving to everyone.
Friday, October 1, 2010
A Day in the Life
I often get asked “what’s your typical day like?” While I will stay away from the cliché of “well, there is no typical day”, my days tend to vary widely and even after a year, each day brings its surprises, both good and bad. But this past Tuesday, September 28th, encompassed a lot of the elements that encompass my everyday life here, both on a work and social basis, and it’s relatively fresh in my memory, so I’ll run through it.
6:40 am: My alarm goes off. Today is the rare day when I actually sleep until my alarm, as we have had no early morning, loud guests (my host grandma is half deaf, an early riser, and constant visitor—this is not good for my beauty sleep) and my parents left early to go work in the field, so there is no whyno (Peruvian folk music of questionable quality) blasting. I rolled out of bed, went through the morning routine—there wasn’t supposed to be any water, but there was, which was a pleasant surprise—and ate my breakfast of a cheese sandwich, a bowl of potato, noodle soup and a cup of very hot, very sugary, very diluted tea. From there I got dressed (it’s easy here, I only change my clothes once or twice a week), chugged a cup of instant coffee in my room and since I had an extra ten minutes, I decided to trim my mustache. This took longer than I expected and cutting it a bit close (timing wise) I walked up to the school. State of mind: maybe a bit tired, but a promising day.
8:00 am: Arrived at the school. Today is a very exciting day. Pete and I arranged for SERNANP, the national park administration, to come up to Pete’s site (Huashcao) and give an informative puppet show and class to all of our primary school students. Our schools agreed and I was really excited for the kids to learn something about this unique and beautiful area they live in and I was excited that I had arranged it. With about 40 kids, including the 1 and a half year old son of a professor and 1 preschooler and 4 teachers, we set off for the 30 minute walk uphill to Pete’s site. State of mind: hopeful and psyched.
9:00 am: Arrive, unscathed if a bit sweaty (OK dripping sweat) at the Huaschcao municipality. The park staff, with the assistance of Pete and my Peace Corps friend Sophie, is busy setting up their stage. Renee, the park’s director of education tells me that we will be participating in some sort of costume pageant/dance before the puppet show and that I will be playing the part of the “evil gringo” who litters and illegally hunts in the park. I was still recovering from the walk up and he’s awesome but also old and a little bit perpetually confused, so I only caught about 40% of what he said, but that was enough. State of mind: hot, slightly confused, still positive.
9:45 am: We finally are ready to go. I introduce Rene to the crowd, in Spanish, and having made no major grammatical mistakes nor forgotten any words, I am feeling good. He says a few words and the music starts. It turns out that my “costume” consists of a redhead mask with boils all over its face. I come out and the pre-schooler and baby both start to cry, the older kids know it’s me and my big dramatic scene is “shooting” the 6th grade professor who is dressed up as a deer. The dancing went on too long but overall, it was fine. Sate of mind: so far so good.
10:15 am: Time for the puppet show. But, somewhere between the end of the dancing and the beginning of the puppeteer, the power has gone out. This is very, very bad. Why? Because it is not a spoken puppet show, but a puppet show dictated by an audio track. Crap. Pete runs off to look for 3 C batteries. Rene tries to stall and tries to give the kids a bit of a class about the park, but attention quickly flees and kids (mostly from Pete’s town start to wander off and/or play marbles, while the teachers sit and stare and do nothing. This is going downhill fast. Rene salvages the scene by at least introducing the puppets, which the kids really liked, and promising to come back when there is power.
10:45 am: Students and teachers depart. One 4 letter word to sum up the morning: F…ail.
11:00 am: Pete returns, out of breath with batteries after running 20 minutes uphill to his house and back. We help clean up all the costumes and set and SERNANP departs. State of mind: somewhere between angry, frustrated and wanting to scream.
12:30 pm: Pete and I, two twenty somethings, frustrated, annoyed by circumstances out of our control and straddling the lines of American and Peruvian culture, decide to do what anyone in our situation would do—we go to the nearest tienda (small store—and this one was really small. It sells crackers, cookies, soda, beer and not much else), buy some beers and drink Peruvian style while venting and laughing about our jobs and our lives in English (note: Drinking Peruvian style entails, filling a glass, drinking it and then passing it to the next/other person. It’s fun). Another note, for the sake of my parents, Pete’s mom, and the handful of other adults who may read this: understand that this is not a cause for concern, it was just our first English conversation, and drink, in about 10 days. Think of it like having a beer at a business lunch, we’re just in a different line of business. State of mind: improving.
1:15 pm: Power returns. Pass the beer.
2:00 pm: The clock strikes 2. I told my family I would be home by 11:30. Whoops, I depart to trek back down to Yanamito. State of mind: daytime beers are always a questionable decision, but definitely improved.
2:30 pm: Arrive home to a big plate of potatoes, rice and ¼ of a roasted guinea pig and a big bowl of wheat and potato soup to celebrate my host brother’s birthday. The perfect lunch. State of mind: stuffing my face and full, aka very content.
3:00 pm: A district mayoral candidate is having his close-of-campaign rally on our soccer field. The entire town is there, and so wanting the face time but not wanting to violate the Peace Corps “no political involvement” rule, I go outside, say hi to a bunch of people and do what I would do at any political event, namely lie down a bit away from the crowd in the sun and close my eyes. State of mind: drowsy…
3:20 pm: I wake up to a 1st grader, a pre-schooler and his 2 year old brother jumping on my chest and laughing. I played with the kids for a bit and then sat down and talked to some teenagers about the usual (weather, how do you vote in the US, this is how you say “good people” in Quechua). State of mind: groggy, but amicably social.
4:00 pm: The rally has finished up, some people have cleared out and I get invited to play some volleyball. I dominate three games (being the tallest person in town definitely has its advantages) and I sit back to watch the upcoming soccer game. State of mind: huh, somehow today wound up being a good day.
5:15 pm: See the garbage pail near the soccer field. It is full, and whoever cleaned up the rally decided that it would be a good idea to just dump used Styrofoam plates next to the trash. Somebody says to me “Alex, looks like you have some work to do.” I almost lost it, and kind of snapped back that it was the candidates work and that my job is not to clean up after everybody. Moved to a spot where I could no longer see the garbage pail. Sate of mind: Pissed off, frustration take two.
6:15 pm: Now cold, unhappily make my way back home, only to see that in the interim someone has in fact collected the plates that overflowed from the garbage can and put them in a big sack. Lift my head and walk home with a skip in my step. State of mind: OK, so things turned out OK. Faith in mankind resurrected.
6:25 pm: 2 weeks ago, the garbage truck accidently took down someone’s power line, leaving them powerless. Of course this was not my fault, nor should it have been my responsibility to fix, but due to political apathy, it fell to me to coordinate with the provincial municipality to come up and fix. Today was the day they were supposed to come, which I remembered and went to check if everything was fixed. On my way, I encountered three 2nd graders elbow deep in another garbage pail collecting soda bottle caps having spilled out another 40 Styrofoam plates. If I didn’t hate Styrofoam as a semi-hippy on a liberal college campus, boy do I ever hate it now. I take a deep breath and ask them what they are doing. They show me their bottle caps. I tell them to wait there, I am going to get a bag and they are going to clean up the mess the made. As I turn back towards home to go get a back, one kid says “let’s make a break for it.” My response:
“I know your names, I know where you live, I know your parents and I know your teacher. You can either wait 5 minutes and do this with my help, or you can be dragged back here tomorrow morning by your ears”, and I turn to go. State of mind: REALLY? I think my head might explode.
6:30 pm: Returning to the scene of the crime, I ready myself for the possibility that these kids might have succumbed to poor judgment and ran off. Thankfully, they all stayed and we cleaned up the mess in about 5 minutes, with very little complaining. Plus, the electricity got fixed and the family thanked me. State of mind: Well that could have been worse. I need to go home and not leave the house again until tomorrow.
6:40 pm: Dinner in front of Madagascar 2. Leftover rice and potatoes, more wheat and potato soup, bread and another cup of dentist-offendingly-sweet tea. State of mind: numbed by television.
8:05 pm: Power goes out.
8:10 pm: Power comes back.
8:12 pm: Power goes out. State of mind: for the umpteenth time today, “really?”
8:15 pm: My mom declares, “Well with no power, we may as well go to bed.” I am not yet sleepy, so I pull out my secret weapon—a fully charged laptop and season 2 of Weeds on DVD. Two episodes and I am ready for bed. State of mind: again, numbed by TV, sleepy.
9:20 pm: Time for bed. Go to bed content, pretty happy and trying not to think what tomorrow may bring (which, P.S., included: a 5:30 wakeup from my mom telling me that they were going to plant potatoes, which I already knew; a pretty good English class; a close but heartbreaking volleyball loss with the teachers—I blame everyone on my team but me; dogs having gotten into the garbage bags and strewing plates everywhere—I looked the other way; two hours later, to my amazement, seeing that plates have been cleaned up; carrying a half full bag of synthetic fertilizer back from the field to prove that I am not useless; a woman from a neighboring town telling me that there are lots of pretty, single girls in her town and that I need to come visit; and of course, 2 more power outages).
6:40 am: My alarm goes off. Today is the rare day when I actually sleep until my alarm, as we have had no early morning, loud guests (my host grandma is half deaf, an early riser, and constant visitor—this is not good for my beauty sleep) and my parents left early to go work in the field, so there is no whyno (Peruvian folk music of questionable quality) blasting. I rolled out of bed, went through the morning routine—there wasn’t supposed to be any water, but there was, which was a pleasant surprise—and ate my breakfast of a cheese sandwich, a bowl of potato, noodle soup and a cup of very hot, very sugary, very diluted tea. From there I got dressed (it’s easy here, I only change my clothes once or twice a week), chugged a cup of instant coffee in my room and since I had an extra ten minutes, I decided to trim my mustache. This took longer than I expected and cutting it a bit close (timing wise) I walked up to the school. State of mind: maybe a bit tired, but a promising day.
8:00 am: Arrived at the school. Today is a very exciting day. Pete and I arranged for SERNANP, the national park administration, to come up to Pete’s site (Huashcao) and give an informative puppet show and class to all of our primary school students. Our schools agreed and I was really excited for the kids to learn something about this unique and beautiful area they live in and I was excited that I had arranged it. With about 40 kids, including the 1 and a half year old son of a professor and 1 preschooler and 4 teachers, we set off for the 30 minute walk uphill to Pete’s site. State of mind: hopeful and psyched.
9:00 am: Arrive, unscathed if a bit sweaty (OK dripping sweat) at the Huaschcao municipality. The park staff, with the assistance of Pete and my Peace Corps friend Sophie, is busy setting up their stage. Renee, the park’s director of education tells me that we will be participating in some sort of costume pageant/dance before the puppet show and that I will be playing the part of the “evil gringo” who litters and illegally hunts in the park. I was still recovering from the walk up and he’s awesome but also old and a little bit perpetually confused, so I only caught about 40% of what he said, but that was enough. State of mind: hot, slightly confused, still positive.
9:45 am: We finally are ready to go. I introduce Rene to the crowd, in Spanish, and having made no major grammatical mistakes nor forgotten any words, I am feeling good. He says a few words and the music starts. It turns out that my “costume” consists of a redhead mask with boils all over its face. I come out and the pre-schooler and baby both start to cry, the older kids know it’s me and my big dramatic scene is “shooting” the 6th grade professor who is dressed up as a deer. The dancing went on too long but overall, it was fine. Sate of mind: so far so good.
10:15 am: Time for the puppet show. But, somewhere between the end of the dancing and the beginning of the puppeteer, the power has gone out. This is very, very bad. Why? Because it is not a spoken puppet show, but a puppet show dictated by an audio track. Crap. Pete runs off to look for 3 C batteries. Rene tries to stall and tries to give the kids a bit of a class about the park, but attention quickly flees and kids (mostly from Pete’s town start to wander off and/or play marbles, while the teachers sit and stare and do nothing. This is going downhill fast. Rene salvages the scene by at least introducing the puppets, which the kids really liked, and promising to come back when there is power.
10:45 am: Students and teachers depart. One 4 letter word to sum up the morning: F…ail.
11:00 am: Pete returns, out of breath with batteries after running 20 minutes uphill to his house and back. We help clean up all the costumes and set and SERNANP departs. State of mind: somewhere between angry, frustrated and wanting to scream.
12:30 pm: Pete and I, two twenty somethings, frustrated, annoyed by circumstances out of our control and straddling the lines of American and Peruvian culture, decide to do what anyone in our situation would do—we go to the nearest tienda (small store—and this one was really small. It sells crackers, cookies, soda, beer and not much else), buy some beers and drink Peruvian style while venting and laughing about our jobs and our lives in English (note: Drinking Peruvian style entails, filling a glass, drinking it and then passing it to the next/other person. It’s fun). Another note, for the sake of my parents, Pete’s mom, and the handful of other adults who may read this: understand that this is not a cause for concern, it was just our first English conversation, and drink, in about 10 days. Think of it like having a beer at a business lunch, we’re just in a different line of business. State of mind: improving.
1:15 pm: Power returns. Pass the beer.
2:00 pm: The clock strikes 2. I told my family I would be home by 11:30. Whoops, I depart to trek back down to Yanamito. State of mind: daytime beers are always a questionable decision, but definitely improved.
2:30 pm: Arrive home to a big plate of potatoes, rice and ¼ of a roasted guinea pig and a big bowl of wheat and potato soup to celebrate my host brother’s birthday. The perfect lunch. State of mind: stuffing my face and full, aka very content.
3:00 pm: A district mayoral candidate is having his close-of-campaign rally on our soccer field. The entire town is there, and so wanting the face time but not wanting to violate the Peace Corps “no political involvement” rule, I go outside, say hi to a bunch of people and do what I would do at any political event, namely lie down a bit away from the crowd in the sun and close my eyes. State of mind: drowsy…
3:20 pm: I wake up to a 1st grader, a pre-schooler and his 2 year old brother jumping on my chest and laughing. I played with the kids for a bit and then sat down and talked to some teenagers about the usual (weather, how do you vote in the US, this is how you say “good people” in Quechua). State of mind: groggy, but amicably social.
4:00 pm: The rally has finished up, some people have cleared out and I get invited to play some volleyball. I dominate three games (being the tallest person in town definitely has its advantages) and I sit back to watch the upcoming soccer game. State of mind: huh, somehow today wound up being a good day.
5:15 pm: See the garbage pail near the soccer field. It is full, and whoever cleaned up the rally decided that it would be a good idea to just dump used Styrofoam plates next to the trash. Somebody says to me “Alex, looks like you have some work to do.” I almost lost it, and kind of snapped back that it was the candidates work and that my job is not to clean up after everybody. Moved to a spot where I could no longer see the garbage pail. Sate of mind: Pissed off, frustration take two.
6:15 pm: Now cold, unhappily make my way back home, only to see that in the interim someone has in fact collected the plates that overflowed from the garbage can and put them in a big sack. Lift my head and walk home with a skip in my step. State of mind: OK, so things turned out OK. Faith in mankind resurrected.
6:25 pm: 2 weeks ago, the garbage truck accidently took down someone’s power line, leaving them powerless. Of course this was not my fault, nor should it have been my responsibility to fix, but due to political apathy, it fell to me to coordinate with the provincial municipality to come up and fix. Today was the day they were supposed to come, which I remembered and went to check if everything was fixed. On my way, I encountered three 2nd graders elbow deep in another garbage pail collecting soda bottle caps having spilled out another 40 Styrofoam plates. If I didn’t hate Styrofoam as a semi-hippy on a liberal college campus, boy do I ever hate it now. I take a deep breath and ask them what they are doing. They show me their bottle caps. I tell them to wait there, I am going to get a bag and they are going to clean up the mess the made. As I turn back towards home to go get a back, one kid says “let’s make a break for it.” My response:
“I know your names, I know where you live, I know your parents and I know your teacher. You can either wait 5 minutes and do this with my help, or you can be dragged back here tomorrow morning by your ears”, and I turn to go. State of mind: REALLY? I think my head might explode.
6:30 pm: Returning to the scene of the crime, I ready myself for the possibility that these kids might have succumbed to poor judgment and ran off. Thankfully, they all stayed and we cleaned up the mess in about 5 minutes, with very little complaining. Plus, the electricity got fixed and the family thanked me. State of mind: Well that could have been worse. I need to go home and not leave the house again until tomorrow.
6:40 pm: Dinner in front of Madagascar 2. Leftover rice and potatoes, more wheat and potato soup, bread and another cup of dentist-offendingly-sweet tea. State of mind: numbed by television.
8:05 pm: Power goes out.
8:10 pm: Power comes back.
8:12 pm: Power goes out. State of mind: for the umpteenth time today, “really?”
8:15 pm: My mom declares, “Well with no power, we may as well go to bed.” I am not yet sleepy, so I pull out my secret weapon—a fully charged laptop and season 2 of Weeds on DVD. Two episodes and I am ready for bed. State of mind: again, numbed by TV, sleepy.
9:20 pm: Time for bed. Go to bed content, pretty happy and trying not to think what tomorrow may bring (which, P.S., included: a 5:30 wakeup from my mom telling me that they were going to plant potatoes, which I already knew; a pretty good English class; a close but heartbreaking volleyball loss with the teachers—I blame everyone on my team but me; dogs having gotten into the garbage bags and strewing plates everywhere—I looked the other way; two hours later, to my amazement, seeing that plates have been cleaned up; carrying a half full bag of synthetic fertilizer back from the field to prove that I am not useless; a woman from a neighboring town telling me that there are lots of pretty, single girls in her town and that I need to come visit; and of course, 2 more power outages).
Friday, September 3, 2010
some mountains some coast, some peru
To start off, this is my dog carrying firewood. My host dad thinks this is the most awesome thing in the world, so here it:
Well it’s September again, which means I have been here just about a year. But not quite—my next blog will be a special one year in Peru edition, for the 8 of you still reading this thing, don’t miss it. Anyway, things here are kind of, well, normal. I have been in Yanamito long enough that I really feel comfortable and not out of place, which is pretty big. The garbage truck is coming every week, which is a huge relief. And we are about 2/3 through the school year so even that feels pretty much routine. Basically this is my life now and a lot of the newness and weirdness has just become the everyday. Don’t get me wrong, weird stuff happens every day. Yesterday on my run, for example, and old lady told me her pig was up ahead walking in the wrong direction and could I get it to turn around and walk back to her. I obliged. Just one example.
This is not to say that life here is boring—it isn’t. And so I move onto what jumps out at me as extraordinary in the past 4 or 5 weeks. Work wise—ummm, not too much. Like I said, the garbage truck comes regularly now, and that had been taking up a lot of my time and energy, so I just have to ensure that that keeps happening. This week I started a trash management curriculum in the school, focusing on separating organics and inorganics and making organic fertilizer (compost, vermiculture etc) that I hope to spread to the community at large so that they use their animal waste and don’t burn stuff as much as they do now. But that’s idealistic future talk, which I’ll stay away from. The really cool thing I did at the beginning of August was a world map project. This is a Peace Corps world wide project, where volunteers, with helpers from their communities, draw mural sized world maps. I was really scared to start it, given my general atrocity in the fields of both art and geography, but Peace Corps gave us a really good manual and with the help of anywhere from 2-7 kids a day for the 2 weeks of their mid-school year vacation there is now an awesome, 2 meter by 4 meter map on the wall of my school. WE may have left off Suriname and a bunch of island nations, but overall, I still think it looks pretty darn good. Now I finally have a tool to help me explain that no, the US in not near Spain, and yes, you need to fly to get from Peru to New York, among other geography related FAQs.
Kind of work related was I had another environment training conference. This time the 17 of us who started last September got together in Huanchaco, a small beach and surfer town about 9 hours north of me. Cons: a lot of what we did was focused on the coast, which no matter how hard I try, I cannot apply to the mountains (marine ecology? Uhhhhh…). Pros: I got to spend a week in a beach town, which included really good fish, my first ever try at surfing (I did it I think kind of), some cool ruins (called Chan Chan, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chan_Chan) it’s like the oldest sand castle in the world)
paddling a traditional reed fishing boat called a caballito del mar with my best buddies in Peace Corps and of course, running along the coast and swimming every day. Overall, it was pretty sweet. Also, and this might make us seem creepy, but it’s too good a story not to tell, we found a dead sea lion on the beach and 5 of us (and by 5 of us I really just mean my friend Mark who’s way tougher than me) cut out its teeth, which are like four inches long and are really cool. So yea, fun trip, with a good souvenir to take home as well.
I also have done some cool touring around Ancash. I climbed Huascaran up to the snow again, this time with my host brother and one of his friends and Pete and his host brother. We did it up and down in one day, leaving Yanamito at 5:30 am. I didn’t want to move for the next 3 or 4 days after, but it was a beautiful hike and it was nice to go on an outing with my host brother—I think my host mom was pretty happy about it.
We (and by this I mean my host brother, both to not incriminate myself and cuz he carried it the whole way) also brought back down a chunk of ice from the mountain because that’s what everyone does when they go up there. My host dad then used his wood shaver to make shaved ice, which my mom then served us as snow cones. I asked what flavor they were, to which she responded “sugar”. I can’t say I’m shocked that she’s missing her 2 front teeth.
I also checked out a place about 2 hours away called Hatumachay, which is a rock forest. According to our guide, there was a volcanic explosion millions of years ago which sent a lot of gasses up into the atmosphere and then when it cooled down these gigantic rocks just came crashing down on top of this mountain. I don’t know if the science is right, but it sounded super cool. So anyway, people have been living and hunting up there forever, so we saw some cool cave paintings and then a bunch of people went rock climbing and the lazier of us just walked around, mouths hung kind of dumbly open cuz it was just really really cool and beautiful.
On the sports front, my soccer game is improving (I think this and people have told me, so it must be at least a little bit true), which makes it a lot more fun to play and feel like one of the guys. My parents also brought me a bunch of American sports equipment when they visited—football, mitts and a ball, Frisbees—and I’m having a lot of fun taking those out and trying to teach people how to use them. I have never been an athletic star—my high points are camp softball in high school and maybe running in general—but throw a spiral twenty yards in front of a bunch of people who have never handled an American football before and jaws drop. It’s a lot of fun for me. I have also been going to a bunch of school anniversary celebrations with the teachers from my school and kicking butt in volleyball, but I always feel like I’m cheating. But it’s not my fault that I’m tall right?
And that’s life in the Andes of Peru. It’s hard to believe that in America it’s back to school and almost fall and 2011 and all that, but I think I’ll feel that more when the rainy season arrives and I realize that time is actually passing and not static. Hope you are all well and shannah tovah to everyone whom that applies to.
Well it’s September again, which means I have been here just about a year. But not quite—my next blog will be a special one year in Peru edition, for the 8 of you still reading this thing, don’t miss it. Anyway, things here are kind of, well, normal. I have been in Yanamito long enough that I really feel comfortable and not out of place, which is pretty big. The garbage truck is coming every week, which is a huge relief. And we are about 2/3 through the school year so even that feels pretty much routine. Basically this is my life now and a lot of the newness and weirdness has just become the everyday. Don’t get me wrong, weird stuff happens every day. Yesterday on my run, for example, and old lady told me her pig was up ahead walking in the wrong direction and could I get it to turn around and walk back to her. I obliged. Just one example.
This is not to say that life here is boring—it isn’t. And so I move onto what jumps out at me as extraordinary in the past 4 or 5 weeks. Work wise—ummm, not too much. Like I said, the garbage truck comes regularly now, and that had been taking up a lot of my time and energy, so I just have to ensure that that keeps happening. This week I started a trash management curriculum in the school, focusing on separating organics and inorganics and making organic fertilizer (compost, vermiculture etc) that I hope to spread to the community at large so that they use their animal waste and don’t burn stuff as much as they do now. But that’s idealistic future talk, which I’ll stay away from. The really cool thing I did at the beginning of August was a world map project. This is a Peace Corps world wide project, where volunteers, with helpers from their communities, draw mural sized world maps. I was really scared to start it, given my general atrocity in the fields of both art and geography, but Peace Corps gave us a really good manual and with the help of anywhere from 2-7 kids a day for the 2 weeks of their mid-school year vacation there is now an awesome, 2 meter by 4 meter map on the wall of my school. WE may have left off Suriname and a bunch of island nations, but overall, I still think it looks pretty darn good. Now I finally have a tool to help me explain that no, the US in not near Spain, and yes, you need to fly to get from Peru to New York, among other geography related FAQs.
Kind of work related was I had another environment training conference. This time the 17 of us who started last September got together in Huanchaco, a small beach and surfer town about 9 hours north of me. Cons: a lot of what we did was focused on the coast, which no matter how hard I try, I cannot apply to the mountains (marine ecology? Uhhhhh…). Pros: I got to spend a week in a beach town, which included really good fish, my first ever try at surfing (I did it I think kind of), some cool ruins (called Chan Chan, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chan_Chan) it’s like the oldest sand castle in the world)
paddling a traditional reed fishing boat called a caballito del mar with my best buddies in Peace Corps and of course, running along the coast and swimming every day. Overall, it was pretty sweet. Also, and this might make us seem creepy, but it’s too good a story not to tell, we found a dead sea lion on the beach and 5 of us (and by 5 of us I really just mean my friend Mark who’s way tougher than me) cut out its teeth, which are like four inches long and are really cool. So yea, fun trip, with a good souvenir to take home as well.
I also have done some cool touring around Ancash. I climbed Huascaran up to the snow again, this time with my host brother and one of his friends and Pete and his host brother. We did it up and down in one day, leaving Yanamito at 5:30 am. I didn’t want to move for the next 3 or 4 days after, but it was a beautiful hike and it was nice to go on an outing with my host brother—I think my host mom was pretty happy about it.
We (and by this I mean my host brother, both to not incriminate myself and cuz he carried it the whole way) also brought back down a chunk of ice from the mountain because that’s what everyone does when they go up there. My host dad then used his wood shaver to make shaved ice, which my mom then served us as snow cones. I asked what flavor they were, to which she responded “sugar”. I can’t say I’m shocked that she’s missing her 2 front teeth.
I also checked out a place about 2 hours away called Hatumachay, which is a rock forest. According to our guide, there was a volcanic explosion millions of years ago which sent a lot of gasses up into the atmosphere and then when it cooled down these gigantic rocks just came crashing down on top of this mountain. I don’t know if the science is right, but it sounded super cool. So anyway, people have been living and hunting up there forever, so we saw some cool cave paintings and then a bunch of people went rock climbing and the lazier of us just walked around, mouths hung kind of dumbly open cuz it was just really really cool and beautiful.
On the sports front, my soccer game is improving (I think this and people have told me, so it must be at least a little bit true), which makes it a lot more fun to play and feel like one of the guys. My parents also brought me a bunch of American sports equipment when they visited—football, mitts and a ball, Frisbees—and I’m having a lot of fun taking those out and trying to teach people how to use them. I have never been an athletic star—my high points are camp softball in high school and maybe running in general—but throw a spiral twenty yards in front of a bunch of people who have never handled an American football before and jaws drop. It’s a lot of fun for me. I have also been going to a bunch of school anniversary celebrations with the teachers from my school and kicking butt in volleyball, but I always feel like I’m cheating. But it’s not my fault that I’m tall right?
And that’s life in the Andes of Peru. It’s hard to believe that in America it’s back to school and almost fall and 2011 and all that, but I think I’ll feel that more when the rainy season arrives and I realize that time is actually passing and not static. Hope you are all well and shannah tovah to everyone whom that applies to.
Friday, July 23, 2010
a marathon, machu picchu and a garbage truck (in other words, Peace Corps Peru)
I don’t even know where to start…July has been a show to say the least. To start with I ran a marathon. It was in a beach town on the northern coast called Pacasmayo that has been a Peace Corps site for a while and 3 years ago a volunteer organized this marathon for July 4th as a way to raise money for his community. So it’s not just a marathon it’s also a big Peace Corps party. So yea I finished in 3:51, which isn’t outstanding, but it’s under 4 hours and I jumped into the ocean right afterwards and now I never have to run a marathon ever again unless I really, really want to. And I got to hang out with a bunch of Peace Corps friends, and I won a framed race poster and I got a cool medal. Overall, I knew I was gonna run a marathon one day and I think this was a cool way to do it.
Work has also been progressing, in that Yanamito kind of manages its trash now. So basically with the support of our mayors, Pete and I have been running between 4 municipalities trying to get trash cans and the commitment of a garbage truck to come up. I managed to wrangle 4 big metal cylinders out of the municipality and up the hill, which to my surprise were still sealed oil drums. So after a day of using a hammer and chisel as a huge can opener and some fun with spray paint, I came out with these:
We also managed to get the municipality to say they would send up the truck on a weekly basis every Thursday, starting July 8—4 days after the marathon and the day my parents would be up in Yanamito getting to see my life. We also found this out on June 25th. Needless to say, I had to scramble a bit, but I managed to explain what was happening to the town in a community meeting (that’s right…I gave a 5 minute speech to everybody in Spanish. There was only a little confusion I think) and I got a promise from my mayor that the Saturday before there would be a community cleanup and everything would be fine. So I went to the race, slightly nervous that my work life would fall apart while I was gone, but to my pleasant surprise I came back with my parents the day before the truck was supposed to come and the pails were out and there was a neat mound of garbage waiting for the truck to come. Just when I began to have faith in the system, I went out on Thursday morning to meet the truck with my parents, and we waited. And waited. So I called the guy in charge who said whoops the truck got 2 flat tires, it can’t come, we will try again next week. I’m pretty sure he was lying, but what could I do. So again I departed Yanamito, this time on a jaunt with my parents, nervous that while I was gone the streets would pile high with trash until someone just decided to burn it. But what could I do—I was on vacation. More on the trip to come, but after 5 days in the jungle with no cell phone service I called Pete on Thursday evening to hear that…the garbage truck came and everything went swimmingly. We were on a bus full of somewhat annoyed and wet tourists, but I fist pumped the air and my parents cheered. And two days ago I was actually in town when the truck came. I got to ride in the front while we drove around town emptying the barrels and waiting while mostly ladies ran out with full bags to dump in the truck. It was awesome. Hooray trash management.
One more garbage story and then I move onto other things I promise. So every Sunday for the past two months there has been a soccer tournament in my town. Teams come from a bunch of towns within walking distance and they play each other, and most of my town spends the day outside watching, eating ice cream and generally relaxing. Ice cream here is sold in little Styrofoam cups for 50 centimos a pop (the equivalent of about $.15). What happens to all those little cups you ask? They get thrown everywhere. Every Monday the town is a mess. So before the last Sunday in June I got the mayor to agree to put one of our garbage pails there. I brought it down at 7:30, had it all set to go, and when I got to the tournament later in the day I bought myself an ice cream as a pat on the back. I threw out my cup, and the pail was mostly empty, but it was early. I came back after lunch to check on it—still empty with garbage just about everywhere but in the pail—I could still differentiate my cup. Huge fail. So I went to go sit down, pretty dejected, to watch the game. One of my little buddies from first grade, Noel, sits down beside me and starts talking to me about ice cream (what else?). He says he wants some ice cream but his mom won’t buy it. My wheels start turning, and I told him if that if he filled up one little shopping bag with garbage I would buy him some. He got really excited, agreed, and five minutes later (with some help from me…he’s just a little guy) his bag was filled and we went to deposit it in the pail and buy ice cream. A few other kids and there parents saw this transaction and soon I had a good chunk of the elementary school lining up to wait for a shopping bag. Within 20 minutes the whole drum was filled to overflowing and the area was a whole bunch cleaner. Sustainable? Probably not. Effective? Definitely. And the kids enjoyed it and a bunch of moms saw it too and encouraged their kids to throw out their garbage. It was fun. And encouraging. Ok no more garbage.
My parents came to visit. I hadn’t seen them for the 10 months I’ve been here, by far the longest we’d gone without seeing each other, so I was pacing up and down the bus station incessantly by the time their bus finally came in at 9:30 pm, but as long as the ride from Lima was they made it. We spent a day in Huaraz, where we went for a hike and I showed them around town. Then 2 days and 1 night in Yanamito, where there just happened to be a town soccer tournament that day, so they met everybody.
Then we spent 6 days in the Manu jungle and a few days in Cusco, including Machu Picchu. I had to do a lot of translating, but I think it was really great that they got to see my town and where I live and work. Everyone was really glad to meet them and now all they ask is “when are your parents coming back?”
The jungle was awesome. First of all, as I learned in India, it’s good to travel with your parents, especially when you’re used to backpackers standards. Hotels were nice, food was good, to say nothing of the company. But the back to the jungle. We saw a ton. About a million different birds (we stayed at a hotel with some serious birders who were keeping a log book and all that and in the morning we were out looking at birds with them and they said they saw 40 different species before breakfast), including a ton of hummingbirds and macaws, which are like huge parrots and according to our guide (who was the man) are as smart as 5 year olds, and some hoatzins, which I’m pretty sure are dinosaurs:
We also saw few different mammals, including the world’s largest rodent (basically a pig sized guinea pig) and the largest jungle mammal, a tapir:
which kind of looks like, according to my dad, a combination of hippo, horse and pig. The mammal list also included 5 different kinds of monkeys, giant river otters and some chinchillas. We also saw some caimans, which are like crocodiles/alligators (I don’t really remember the difference). And one almost ate us. For real. We were on a catamaran taking a wildlife viewing boat ride around a small lake, and I spotted a big (according to our guide 4 meters from nose to tail) caiman on the bank. We got a little bit closer and our guide told us it was full and resting, but our two boat drivers contended that it was dead. We got closer still and we saw that its stomach, nose and tail were all chewed up, so we all thought it was dead. So one of the boat drivers gets the boat real close and says he wants to go grab its tail. He hops off the boat and the caiman rears up its head, splashes the water and full on snaps its jaws. Our guy ran back to the boat and we booked it out of there. It was pretty exciting—my heart was pounding for a few hours, no joke.
That was probably the most exciting thing that happened, but in general the jungle was just really cool. We got to ride down a river in a boat, I saw a million cool trees and plants and it was just really different from anything else I’ve ever seen, and I think my parents would say the same. There’s a lot more to write about, but I feel like I’m rambling a bit, so if anyone wants to hear more or see more pictures just let me know.
Side story for the jungle trip. We stayed at 3 different lodges, only one of them had electricity and we happened to be on this part of the trip over the world cup final. Watching the world cup here has been another cool experience, cuz people here actually like soccer and get really into it. Like one morning when Pete and I had just got back form our last training conference and Portugal was playing Brazil (I think). We had work to do, but we passed a small store where the game was on, and so we decided to have a soda and watch the game, where we talked international soccer with the shopkeeper and whoever else entered the store and stuck around to watch the game. So meanwhile, we get to our lodge at about 2 the day of the final, and there is power, but no TV in the room. But walking around I heard the game coming out of the kitchen, with the 6 workers huddles around.
So, despite our hike that was supposed to start at 3, me, my parents, our guide and the staff crowded around a 10 inch TV in the middle of the jungle to watch Spain take down the Netherlands, then we went on our hike. It was a lot cooler than watching in a sports bar somewhere.
So that was the jungle. And of course, you can’t come to Peru without seeing Machu Picchu. So we went to Machu Picchu. We took a car from Cusco city, through the Sacred Valley and eventually up to the famous mountain. Along the way we saw an Alpaca farm, some other Inca ruins and a cool town called Ollantaytambo, where there is a modern town that still lives in and uses the Inca infrastructure and houses. We took a train to Machu Picchu, which was a beautiful ride and they also served sushi as a snack, which blew me away. And Machu Picchu was cool—it’s really old and beautiful and our guide explained a lot of cool cultural and mystical stories. And yea here we are—the classic photo:
And for all of us, having visited the Taj Mahal, this was the second wonder of the world we could cross off our lists, so 2 down 5 to go.
And yea after that it was a little more souvenir shopping and back to the airport so that my parents could head back to the states and I could go home and see if I can get some work done after 3 solid weeks of distraction. It was a great trip and a good marathon, but I am ready for a few calm, normal weeks in site (I hope).
Work has also been progressing, in that Yanamito kind of manages its trash now. So basically with the support of our mayors, Pete and I have been running between 4 municipalities trying to get trash cans and the commitment of a garbage truck to come up. I managed to wrangle 4 big metal cylinders out of the municipality and up the hill, which to my surprise were still sealed oil drums. So after a day of using a hammer and chisel as a huge can opener and some fun with spray paint, I came out with these:
We also managed to get the municipality to say they would send up the truck on a weekly basis every Thursday, starting July 8—4 days after the marathon and the day my parents would be up in Yanamito getting to see my life. We also found this out on June 25th. Needless to say, I had to scramble a bit, but I managed to explain what was happening to the town in a community meeting (that’s right…I gave a 5 minute speech to everybody in Spanish. There was only a little confusion I think) and I got a promise from my mayor that the Saturday before there would be a community cleanup and everything would be fine. So I went to the race, slightly nervous that my work life would fall apart while I was gone, but to my pleasant surprise I came back with my parents the day before the truck was supposed to come and the pails were out and there was a neat mound of garbage waiting for the truck to come. Just when I began to have faith in the system, I went out on Thursday morning to meet the truck with my parents, and we waited. And waited. So I called the guy in charge who said whoops the truck got 2 flat tires, it can’t come, we will try again next week. I’m pretty sure he was lying, but what could I do. So again I departed Yanamito, this time on a jaunt with my parents, nervous that while I was gone the streets would pile high with trash until someone just decided to burn it. But what could I do—I was on vacation. More on the trip to come, but after 5 days in the jungle with no cell phone service I called Pete on Thursday evening to hear that…the garbage truck came and everything went swimmingly. We were on a bus full of somewhat annoyed and wet tourists, but I fist pumped the air and my parents cheered. And two days ago I was actually in town when the truck came. I got to ride in the front while we drove around town emptying the barrels and waiting while mostly ladies ran out with full bags to dump in the truck. It was awesome. Hooray trash management.
One more garbage story and then I move onto other things I promise. So every Sunday for the past two months there has been a soccer tournament in my town. Teams come from a bunch of towns within walking distance and they play each other, and most of my town spends the day outside watching, eating ice cream and generally relaxing. Ice cream here is sold in little Styrofoam cups for 50 centimos a pop (the equivalent of about $.15). What happens to all those little cups you ask? They get thrown everywhere. Every Monday the town is a mess. So before the last Sunday in June I got the mayor to agree to put one of our garbage pails there. I brought it down at 7:30, had it all set to go, and when I got to the tournament later in the day I bought myself an ice cream as a pat on the back. I threw out my cup, and the pail was mostly empty, but it was early. I came back after lunch to check on it—still empty with garbage just about everywhere but in the pail—I could still differentiate my cup. Huge fail. So I went to go sit down, pretty dejected, to watch the game. One of my little buddies from first grade, Noel, sits down beside me and starts talking to me about ice cream (what else?). He says he wants some ice cream but his mom won’t buy it. My wheels start turning, and I told him if that if he filled up one little shopping bag with garbage I would buy him some. He got really excited, agreed, and five minutes later (with some help from me…he’s just a little guy) his bag was filled and we went to deposit it in the pail and buy ice cream. A few other kids and there parents saw this transaction and soon I had a good chunk of the elementary school lining up to wait for a shopping bag. Within 20 minutes the whole drum was filled to overflowing and the area was a whole bunch cleaner. Sustainable? Probably not. Effective? Definitely. And the kids enjoyed it and a bunch of moms saw it too and encouraged their kids to throw out their garbage. It was fun. And encouraging. Ok no more garbage.
My parents came to visit. I hadn’t seen them for the 10 months I’ve been here, by far the longest we’d gone without seeing each other, so I was pacing up and down the bus station incessantly by the time their bus finally came in at 9:30 pm, but as long as the ride from Lima was they made it. We spent a day in Huaraz, where we went for a hike and I showed them around town. Then 2 days and 1 night in Yanamito, where there just happened to be a town soccer tournament that day, so they met everybody.
Then we spent 6 days in the Manu jungle and a few days in Cusco, including Machu Picchu. I had to do a lot of translating, but I think it was really great that they got to see my town and where I live and work. Everyone was really glad to meet them and now all they ask is “when are your parents coming back?”
The jungle was awesome. First of all, as I learned in India, it’s good to travel with your parents, especially when you’re used to backpackers standards. Hotels were nice, food was good, to say nothing of the company. But the back to the jungle. We saw a ton. About a million different birds (we stayed at a hotel with some serious birders who were keeping a log book and all that and in the morning we were out looking at birds with them and they said they saw 40 different species before breakfast), including a ton of hummingbirds and macaws, which are like huge parrots and according to our guide (who was the man) are as smart as 5 year olds, and some hoatzins, which I’m pretty sure are dinosaurs:
We also saw few different mammals, including the world’s largest rodent (basically a pig sized guinea pig) and the largest jungle mammal, a tapir:
which kind of looks like, according to my dad, a combination of hippo, horse and pig. The mammal list also included 5 different kinds of monkeys, giant river otters and some chinchillas. We also saw some caimans, which are like crocodiles/alligators (I don’t really remember the difference). And one almost ate us. For real. We were on a catamaran taking a wildlife viewing boat ride around a small lake, and I spotted a big (according to our guide 4 meters from nose to tail) caiman on the bank. We got a little bit closer and our guide told us it was full and resting, but our two boat drivers contended that it was dead. We got closer still and we saw that its stomach, nose and tail were all chewed up, so we all thought it was dead. So one of the boat drivers gets the boat real close and says he wants to go grab its tail. He hops off the boat and the caiman rears up its head, splashes the water and full on snaps its jaws. Our guy ran back to the boat and we booked it out of there. It was pretty exciting—my heart was pounding for a few hours, no joke.
That was probably the most exciting thing that happened, but in general the jungle was just really cool. We got to ride down a river in a boat, I saw a million cool trees and plants and it was just really different from anything else I’ve ever seen, and I think my parents would say the same. There’s a lot more to write about, but I feel like I’m rambling a bit, so if anyone wants to hear more or see more pictures just let me know.
Side story for the jungle trip. We stayed at 3 different lodges, only one of them had electricity and we happened to be on this part of the trip over the world cup final. Watching the world cup here has been another cool experience, cuz people here actually like soccer and get really into it. Like one morning when Pete and I had just got back form our last training conference and Portugal was playing Brazil (I think). We had work to do, but we passed a small store where the game was on, and so we decided to have a soda and watch the game, where we talked international soccer with the shopkeeper and whoever else entered the store and stuck around to watch the game. So meanwhile, we get to our lodge at about 2 the day of the final, and there is power, but no TV in the room. But walking around I heard the game coming out of the kitchen, with the 6 workers huddles around.
So, despite our hike that was supposed to start at 3, me, my parents, our guide and the staff crowded around a 10 inch TV in the middle of the jungle to watch Spain take down the Netherlands, then we went on our hike. It was a lot cooler than watching in a sports bar somewhere.
So that was the jungle. And of course, you can’t come to Peru without seeing Machu Picchu. So we went to Machu Picchu. We took a car from Cusco city, through the Sacred Valley and eventually up to the famous mountain. Along the way we saw an Alpaca farm, some other Inca ruins and a cool town called Ollantaytambo, where there is a modern town that still lives in and uses the Inca infrastructure and houses. We took a train to Machu Picchu, which was a beautiful ride and they also served sushi as a snack, which blew me away. And Machu Picchu was cool—it’s really old and beautiful and our guide explained a lot of cool cultural and mystical stories. And yea here we are—the classic photo:
And for all of us, having visited the Taj Mahal, this was the second wonder of the world we could cross off our lists, so 2 down 5 to go.
And yea after that it was a little more souvenir shopping and back to the airport so that my parents could head back to the states and I could go home and see if I can get some work done after 3 solid weeks of distraction. It was a great trip and a good marathon, but I am ready for a few calm, normal weeks in site (I hope).
Sunday, June 13, 2010
to 15000 feet and back
Its hard to believe that another month has flown by and that for the first time ever I am off the academic calendar. Thankfully, June in July in Peace Corps Peru is bringing a boatload of distractions that should make me forget that such a thing as summer vacation ever existed. This week I go to a rural part of Lima called Yauyos with the rest of the Ancash environment volunteers to see the volunteer sites there and maybe try and get some ideas. Then next week I have a project design seminar in Lima with my school director. One week later I should be running a marathon (my fingers are still crossed, but I think I will be ready) and right after that my parents are coming to visit. So somehow it seems like life is on hold till August. But that is all in the future, and skipping over the past month would be a mistake…
The last big event in May was a girl’s leadership/empowerment camp we did in Ancash where each volunteer brought two teenage girls from his/her community. We did a huge range of activities from yoga to bracelet making to career planning. Now some of you may be asking, Alex ¨what could possibly have been your role in these sorts of activities?¨ My answer, truthfully, is not much. I brought girls, and supported my friends who led sessions, acted in a gender equality play and led a discussion about it afterwards and refreshed all of my old camp counselor skills. But I honestly felt a little out of place all weekend, especially as in Ancash male volunteers are outnumbered heavily by female volunteers. The important part is that it seems as if all the girls really enjoyed it, and in a male dominated culture where opportunities for women can be few and far between I think it was a really great and important program. Also seeing two teenage girls in traditional dress doing yoga is one of those cross-cultural experiences that you have to see to believe and makes you remember why working outside the US can be so mind blowingly cool.
The other really incredible thing that I have done recently is climb a mountain. Now that may sound mundane, but remember I live in the foothills of the tallest mountain in Peru. Now if this works right, there should be some sweet pictures to go along with my somewhat less impressive words, but I will try my best anyway. At 5:30 am I walked down from my site to Musho, my friend Kaitlin’s site two towns down the hill where the trek up Huascaran starts. The 5 of us going met there, divided up tents and food and set out. Within two hours we had left behind most of the signs of civilization (except for cows, there were cows over 4000 meters) and were hiking up through beautiful quenal forests, a tree that is native to, and in only grows in, the high Andes. It is also probably the coolest tree species on Earth (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polylepis). It was pretty and peaceful and it did not seem awfully hard, although my calves may beg to differ (they still kinda hurt…). After about four hours, with a few breaks thrown in and a ton of questionably necessary pictures, we made it to Huascaran base camp, 4200 meters, where all of the summiting expeditions set out. We set up our tents and set out for the glacier, which we thought was an easy hour stroll away. Wrong—it was a two hour rock scramble. It was hard and really high and we were really tired, but it was worth it. Being on/near a glacier is a side of nature I never even imagined. There were shades of blue in the ice that looked supernatural. And it was cool to think that down at site it was probably about 70 degrees Fahrenheit and I was playing with snow. Also, I will refrain from any commentary on global warming, but it was definitely also striking to think that in X years there may not be any more ice there at all. After playing on the snow for a little, we had to head back down before dark. We got a little bit lost and while the sunset was absolutely gorgeous, we were all a little bit more focused on getting back in one piece to our tents. It looked a bit sketchy, but we made it back about 20 minutes after dark with minimal mishap (I ripped my pants on a rock—I am not happy about it, but in the big picture I guess it is good that that was the worst that befell me). And after a pasta dinner and a few minutes of star gazing we passed out exhausted. The morning was freezing, but you could see the shadow of the mountain we were on against the mountain range across the valley—again, very cool. And then we hiked down and rejoined our towns in their daily lives, finally being able to say, yes I have been up to the ice and it is awesome (I was being asked every day since the rainy season ended when I would go). It also gave me a really good appreciation for the type of adventures and unique experiences my Peace Corps experience will give me the opportunity to have. Sorry if that was a really long description that just sounded like a normal hike. For me it was epic, and I cannot look at the mountain the same way, but sadly words fall short of experience.
So anyway, those are the exciting parts of my life. Teaching continues to be what it is. I made an English board game this week and I think it was the first time anyone in my 5th and 6th grade class had ever experienced a board game (the spaces were numbered and they did not know what to do after 6 because that is all there is on the dice). In honor of environment day on June 5th we (Kaitlin Pete and I) went up and down the hill with an anti-littering puppet show which was well received. We also had an AIDS seminar and as all PEPFAR money that goes to Peru is entrusted to Peace Corps we are all now starting to develop HIV-AIDS/sexual health projects. HIV-AIDS is not really an issue now, but once you get one case…Also according to people I trust to know these things, there are lots of undiagnosed cases of STDs in our rural populations. Also, anything that encourages responsible sexual behavior is a plus in my book—I constantly get asked why I do not have a Yanamiteña girlfriend. The easiest answer to explain is that everyone in town who is my age already has two kids. So it is outside of my usual sphere, but it looks like I will be doing some sexual health promotion. Besides that, working with my buddy Pete we managed to get some garbage cans for our towns from our shared municipality and we are working hard to get a garbage truck up here at least twice a month. So such is my life. Like I said my parents come soon, so if anyone wants to send something for me with them, you are more than welcome…also sorry for the lack of apostrophes, everyone freaking Spanish keyboard is different…hope you are all well and happy summer. And now, pictures, from the bottom up, so to speak…
The last big event in May was a girl’s leadership/empowerment camp we did in Ancash where each volunteer brought two teenage girls from his/her community. We did a huge range of activities from yoga to bracelet making to career planning. Now some of you may be asking, Alex ¨what could possibly have been your role in these sorts of activities?¨ My answer, truthfully, is not much. I brought girls, and supported my friends who led sessions, acted in a gender equality play and led a discussion about it afterwards and refreshed all of my old camp counselor skills. But I honestly felt a little out of place all weekend, especially as in Ancash male volunteers are outnumbered heavily by female volunteers. The important part is that it seems as if all the girls really enjoyed it, and in a male dominated culture where opportunities for women can be few and far between I think it was a really great and important program. Also seeing two teenage girls in traditional dress doing yoga is one of those cross-cultural experiences that you have to see to believe and makes you remember why working outside the US can be so mind blowingly cool.
The other really incredible thing that I have done recently is climb a mountain. Now that may sound mundane, but remember I live in the foothills of the tallest mountain in Peru. Now if this works right, there should be some sweet pictures to go along with my somewhat less impressive words, but I will try my best anyway. At 5:30 am I walked down from my site to Musho, my friend Kaitlin’s site two towns down the hill where the trek up Huascaran starts. The 5 of us going met there, divided up tents and food and set out. Within two hours we had left behind most of the signs of civilization (except for cows, there were cows over 4000 meters) and were hiking up through beautiful quenal forests, a tree that is native to, and in only grows in, the high Andes. It is also probably the coolest tree species on Earth (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polylepis). It was pretty and peaceful and it did not seem awfully hard, although my calves may beg to differ (they still kinda hurt…). After about four hours, with a few breaks thrown in and a ton of questionably necessary pictures, we made it to Huascaran base camp, 4200 meters, where all of the summiting expeditions set out. We set up our tents and set out for the glacier, which we thought was an easy hour stroll away. Wrong—it was a two hour rock scramble. It was hard and really high and we were really tired, but it was worth it. Being on/near a glacier is a side of nature I never even imagined. There were shades of blue in the ice that looked supernatural. And it was cool to think that down at site it was probably about 70 degrees Fahrenheit and I was playing with snow. Also, I will refrain from any commentary on global warming, but it was definitely also striking to think that in X years there may not be any more ice there at all. After playing on the snow for a little, we had to head back down before dark. We got a little bit lost and while the sunset was absolutely gorgeous, we were all a little bit more focused on getting back in one piece to our tents. It looked a bit sketchy, but we made it back about 20 minutes after dark with minimal mishap (I ripped my pants on a rock—I am not happy about it, but in the big picture I guess it is good that that was the worst that befell me). And after a pasta dinner and a few minutes of star gazing we passed out exhausted. The morning was freezing, but you could see the shadow of the mountain we were on against the mountain range across the valley—again, very cool. And then we hiked down and rejoined our towns in their daily lives, finally being able to say, yes I have been up to the ice and it is awesome (I was being asked every day since the rainy season ended when I would go). It also gave me a really good appreciation for the type of adventures and unique experiences my Peace Corps experience will give me the opportunity to have. Sorry if that was a really long description that just sounded like a normal hike. For me it was epic, and I cannot look at the mountain the same way, but sadly words fall short of experience.
So anyway, those are the exciting parts of my life. Teaching continues to be what it is. I made an English board game this week and I think it was the first time anyone in my 5th and 6th grade class had ever experienced a board game (the spaces were numbered and they did not know what to do after 6 because that is all there is on the dice). In honor of environment day on June 5th we (Kaitlin Pete and I) went up and down the hill with an anti-littering puppet show which was well received. We also had an AIDS seminar and as all PEPFAR money that goes to Peru is entrusted to Peace Corps we are all now starting to develop HIV-AIDS/sexual health projects. HIV-AIDS is not really an issue now, but once you get one case…Also according to people I trust to know these things, there are lots of undiagnosed cases of STDs in our rural populations. Also, anything that encourages responsible sexual behavior is a plus in my book—I constantly get asked why I do not have a Yanamiteña girlfriend. The easiest answer to explain is that everyone in town who is my age already has two kids. So it is outside of my usual sphere, but it looks like I will be doing some sexual health promotion. Besides that, working with my buddy Pete we managed to get some garbage cans for our towns from our shared municipality and we are working hard to get a garbage truck up here at least twice a month. So such is my life. Like I said my parents come soon, so if anyone wants to send something for me with them, you are more than welcome…also sorry for the lack of apostrophes, everyone freaking Spanish keyboard is different…hope you are all well and happy summer. And now, pictures, from the bottom up, so to speak…
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
The adventures of the bearded idiots
April has turned into May, and while I hear that in the US spring is in full force, here the days have become slightly warmer, the nights slightly colder and everything pretty much remains the same. But it has been a pretty good couple of weeks. First we had Earth Day at the end of April, which for an environment volunteer is like Christmas, Thanksgiving and New Years rolled into one. Not really, but I did plant 80 native trees called Quenals (Google it, they’re awesome looking trees) around town and led the entire primary school in a circuit of the town’s roads to pick up garbage. It was a good day.
A few days after that I left for the northern coastal department of Lambayeque for what Peace Corps Peru calls “early in service training” or early IST. All of the environment volunteers from my training group left sight for a week and went up north to see some sights, sit through some sessions and hang out. We started off the week in a privately owned protected forest called Chapparri, which was beautiful and cool because it’s owned and run by the local community. Instead of the case in many national parks here where the National Park service has to fight with the surrounding communities, in Chapparri the locals are the biggest stakeholder and proper conservation benefits them more than anyone else.
From there we presented our community diagnostics to each other (and our environmental “boss”), got medical lectures, safety and security lectures, some technical talks and lectures from the head and vice head of Peace Corps Peru. But it’s a lot hotter in the North than it is in Ancash and I can’t say my attention span was at its best in a hot stuffy room. Beyond that, the 17 of us were in the same place for the first time since training ended in November. It was great to see everybody and my friend Pete and I had challenged the rest of the guys in the group to grow out their beards until IST. Sadly only the two of us and our friend Will obliged, and we showed up with 6 months of beard. We left that for two days, shaved silly designs for three days and then shaved completely. This is while basically all of the higher ups from Peace Corps Peru were present. This stunning display of professionalism probably explains why I’m off in Peru and not working in an office somewhere or studying law or some such thing…
We also absorbed some Peruvian culture while we were travelling. We saw some Wacas, which are Inca pyramids, although now they just kinda look like big piles of dirt. We also went to the museum of the Señor de Sipan. This guy was a priest almost 2000 years ago whose burial chamber they unearthed about 20-30 years ago. Now they have a really great museum set up with all the archeological finds, ranging from gold earrings the size of small plates, to necklaces of giant golden and silver peanuts to the remains of the Señor de Sipan and some of the 8 or so people buried with him. Lambayeque also has a really cool shaman market, which showcases some of the relics of the indigenous religion that are still practiced in the North and in the jungle. I wish I had taken my camera cuz there was some cool and really weird stuff—all kinds of beads and sticks and herbs that are used in shamanistic ceremonies, in addition to various animal parts, heads and fetuses and a lot of other stuff I can’t even think how to describe. There’s a lot of interesting things about Peruvian culture and history that I still have yet to scratch the surface in discovering…
Things in the school are still going well. I continue to teach English and environment, and hopefully in the next week or two I will start teaching some environment themes in the high school in the next town down the mountain. I did a mother’s day project with the 5th and 6th graders where we made beads and bracelets out of an old Sports Illustrated my dad sent me. They’re stylish. Then there was also the day we went on paseo, which literally means kind of just going on an excursion. The professors invited me on Wednesday to go with them on Thursday to a town called Huarca. I thought that the whole school was going on a hike or something of that nature. But when I showed up on Thursday morning it was just the 4 professors, the secretary and me getting into a cab to go to Huarca. Turns out classes were cancelled for the day. Why? Because it was the school in Huarca’s anniversary. And how do you celebrate such a monumental day in the history of Peruvian rural education? By cancelling school and inviting professors from all over the region to cancel their schools to play volleyball and soccer, drink beer and eat food. While I couldn’t help being struck by the irony of the event, and while the state of education here makes me want to bang my head against a wall, it was undeniably fun and to tell the truth I can’t wait for the next one, or when we get to have one in Yanamito. I honestly have no idea how to balance my two paradoxical reactions, other than just to kind of say “screw it” and enjoy fun things as they come. And it was the day before slope day at Cornell, so I kind of earned it.
And that’s life in this part of the world. This weekend coming up the Ancash volunteers have a weekend long leadership camp for teenage girls (each volunteer brings two from his/her community) which should be fun. Next week we have 4 days of AIDS training in Huaraz (the capital city of Ancash). The week after that a group of Peace Corps environmental volunteers is coming up from Southern Lima to see our sites and two weeks later we go there. So life is full of distractions/work, which makes the time go scary quick, but it also makes you (me) want to get more done while I am in site, so it’s a good system (I think). Happy belated mother’s day to anyone who that applies to and I hope you’re all well wherever you are…
Saturday, April 17, 2010
out of the campo and back again
So I’ve learned that food can be a really good way of tracking travels, so I think to start off the description of Passover/Easter vacation, I’ll explain what we ate along the way. Two Sundays ago, I went to one of the primary school teachers’ house for lunch, where the main dish was guinea pig. The next night I was in Lima for the Seders, where I was served matzah ball soup and gefilte fish. Two nights later I was in the jungle in a town called Pozuzo where my friends ordered wienerschnizl (?). Sounds like a hell of a week right—especially cuz at this point I’m more accustomed to seeing a plate of guinea pig and potatoes than the chicken and roasted potatoes that was served to me the next night.
So here’s what happened. I was in Lima for the Seders. Lima, especially the nice parts, makes you forget you’re in a “third world” country. There are malls, American stores (adidas, apple etc). It felt real world, I thought maybe I was in Europe, except I have never traveled in Europe. I also got to visit my host family from training. They were as sweet as always and seemed genuinely happy that I had taken time out to come visit them. I felt really comfortable and at home with them, and it’s really nice for me to know that I have another “home” here and a family who will treat me as one of there own. Also, while I was resting I heard my host parents talking and they said, in Spanish, “Alex knows how to speak Spanish now” which gave me a bit of an ego boost.
The first night of Passover was pretty normal. My Peace Corps friend Lauren and I were invited to the conservative Rabbis house with about 12 other people. The Seder was pretty similar to how it would have been at home, except for the fact that the attendees were a mix of Peruvians, Israelis and Americans, which meant that English, Spanish and Hebrew were all flowing together. Now that I have some sort of proficiency in all three, my head was spinning. I’m pretty sure I got greeted at the door in Hebrew, processed that and responded in Spanish. I’m still not sure.
The next night was a bit of a disaster. I had signed us up for a Seder with Chabad, which is an ultra-Orthodox Jewish organization. I thought it would be kinda laid back and fun, as that is the impression I got of them at Cornell. It wasn’t UNfun, but…well, it was an experience. It was about 30 people, separate tables for men and women, which separated me from my only friend. Also, throw Yiddish into the mix of languages, which made things even more confusing. But to explain the real challenge of this evening, I’ll give you all a background on Passover and the Seders for those of you who are unfamiliar. The holiday celebrates the Israelites exodus from Egypt by a retelling of the story (kind of, mostly it’s just rabbinical commentary and songs) and a big festive meal. This whole shebang is called a Seder. Now normally at a Seder, you go through the retelling, and talk about the exodus a bit, but you don’t drag cuz you want to get to the brisket. Well, at this Seder, we focused on the story. We sat down with our books at 7:30 (pm). The first course wasn’t served till 11:45. For those of you who have never been to a Seder that is not the way we normally do it. So anyway, we ate and gracefully bowed out after dinner, claiming (truthfully) that at our sites, we would have been asleep hours ago.
The next day we set out for the department of Junin, east of Lima, where we would be meeting a bunch of friends and traipsing around the jungle. We got there and I got to reunite with some good friends I haven’t seen in four months, which was really great. Now this trip took us to two towns in the jungle, Oxapampa and Pozuzo. These towns, both accessible only by narrow dirt road in vans, have German roots. How did that happen? Well here’s a brief history lesson, as told to us by a German speaking restaurant owner/historian of Pozuzo/descendant of the town founder: in the mid 19th century, Peru was looking for settlers, for this region of the central jungle. Poor Germans, who were not allowed to marry in Germany because of their poverty, took up the offer and you wind up with two towns with signs in German, German food and blue eyed Peruvians (we really thought they didn’t exist…).
Pozuzo was the real gem for us. You get there by three hour van ride from Oxapampa, and this is a harrowing ride (mom you can skip this part…). This is a one lane dirt/mud road, curvy and on the cliff edge overlooking a wide, muddy river. In a 20 year old van. In passing rain showers. With rivers/streams running over the road every 10 minutes or so (no joke we had to get out twice and water entered the van once). But after three hours or so, when you think you’re never gonna get there alive, the road suddenly turns into a paved, double wide road, with curbs and sidewalks on either side, garbage pails every block (separating organics and inorganics), and cute little cabin houses that you didn’t think existed in Peru. This is Pazuzo, possibly the strangest place in the entire world. We checked into our hostel, which was a big wooden château (almost) and sat out on the porch and decided we had accidently been time warped to a cabin somewhere in Appalachia. We felt that out of place. From there we explored the town and threw around a Frisbee and basically enjoyed vacation. We went on a beautiful hike to a waterfall, splashed around there for a while and went to a bird refuge to see the national bird of Peru. I took about twenty pictures of it, I’m still not sure why, I think mostly I was just surprised that it actually showed up. The next day we went to the town museum and headed back to Oxapampa, where we went to a sweet bat cave and explored a bunch. Then from there we bought some native coffee and made friends with some store owners before I had to get back on a bus and come back to my Peru.
It was really nice to come back to Yanamito. Life here is relaxed and I fell accepted in the town to the point where I’m really comfortable. Things in the school are going well. I have big plans for Earth day (April 22nd), including some garbage clean up and tree planting. This week I also wrote/finished my diagnostic, which turned out to be like 15 pages in Spanish. I hope it’s grammatically readable. So anyway because of that I’ve been thinking a lot about what I am going to be doing here over the next year and a half about (that first chunk flew by) and I think I can actually accomplish some things—I’m excited. And that’s life. Probably the funniest/dumbest thing of the last two weeks was my family trying to teach me to use a slingshot (a circle of rubber with a leather piece to hold the rock), which resulted in me smashing both my thumbs. Or my four year old buddy Jefferson asking me why legs were so hairy. And why my arms aren’t. In an hour I go read a book about the endangered Andean Puma to the first grade class, followed by them coloring for Earth day. Tomorrow I go to Huaraz to learn some more Quechua and have a regional meeting, and in a week I go to the Northern department of Lambayeque to have a training conference, see all my environment Peace Corps friends and hopefully get to the beach. Hope you’re all well and enjoying a beautiful spring in the US.
So here’s what happened. I was in Lima for the Seders. Lima, especially the nice parts, makes you forget you’re in a “third world” country. There are malls, American stores (adidas, apple etc). It felt real world, I thought maybe I was in Europe, except I have never traveled in Europe. I also got to visit my host family from training. They were as sweet as always and seemed genuinely happy that I had taken time out to come visit them. I felt really comfortable and at home with them, and it’s really nice for me to know that I have another “home” here and a family who will treat me as one of there own. Also, while I was resting I heard my host parents talking and they said, in Spanish, “Alex knows how to speak Spanish now” which gave me a bit of an ego boost.
The first night of Passover was pretty normal. My Peace Corps friend Lauren and I were invited to the conservative Rabbis house with about 12 other people. The Seder was pretty similar to how it would have been at home, except for the fact that the attendees were a mix of Peruvians, Israelis and Americans, which meant that English, Spanish and Hebrew were all flowing together. Now that I have some sort of proficiency in all three, my head was spinning. I’m pretty sure I got greeted at the door in Hebrew, processed that and responded in Spanish. I’m still not sure.
The next night was a bit of a disaster. I had signed us up for a Seder with Chabad, which is an ultra-Orthodox Jewish organization. I thought it would be kinda laid back and fun, as that is the impression I got of them at Cornell. It wasn’t UNfun, but…well, it was an experience. It was about 30 people, separate tables for men and women, which separated me from my only friend. Also, throw Yiddish into the mix of languages, which made things even more confusing. But to explain the real challenge of this evening, I’ll give you all a background on Passover and the Seders for those of you who are unfamiliar. The holiday celebrates the Israelites exodus from Egypt by a retelling of the story (kind of, mostly it’s just rabbinical commentary and songs) and a big festive meal. This whole shebang is called a Seder. Now normally at a Seder, you go through the retelling, and talk about the exodus a bit, but you don’t drag cuz you want to get to the brisket. Well, at this Seder, we focused on the story. We sat down with our books at 7:30 (pm). The first course wasn’t served till 11:45. For those of you who have never been to a Seder that is not the way we normally do it. So anyway, we ate and gracefully bowed out after dinner, claiming (truthfully) that at our sites, we would have been asleep hours ago.
The next day we set out for the department of Junin, east of Lima, where we would be meeting a bunch of friends and traipsing around the jungle. We got there and I got to reunite with some good friends I haven’t seen in four months, which was really great. Now this trip took us to two towns in the jungle, Oxapampa and Pozuzo. These towns, both accessible only by narrow dirt road in vans, have German roots. How did that happen? Well here’s a brief history lesson, as told to us by a German speaking restaurant owner/historian of Pozuzo/descendant of the town founder: in the mid 19th century, Peru was looking for settlers, for this region of the central jungle. Poor Germans, who were not allowed to marry in Germany because of their poverty, took up the offer and you wind up with two towns with signs in German, German food and blue eyed Peruvians (we really thought they didn’t exist…).
Pozuzo was the real gem for us. You get there by three hour van ride from Oxapampa, and this is a harrowing ride (mom you can skip this part…). This is a one lane dirt/mud road, curvy and on the cliff edge overlooking a wide, muddy river. In a 20 year old van. In passing rain showers. With rivers/streams running over the road every 10 minutes or so (no joke we had to get out twice and water entered the van once). But after three hours or so, when you think you’re never gonna get there alive, the road suddenly turns into a paved, double wide road, with curbs and sidewalks on either side, garbage pails every block (separating organics and inorganics), and cute little cabin houses that you didn’t think existed in Peru. This is Pazuzo, possibly the strangest place in the entire world. We checked into our hostel, which was a big wooden château (almost) and sat out on the porch and decided we had accidently been time warped to a cabin somewhere in Appalachia. We felt that out of place. From there we explored the town and threw around a Frisbee and basically enjoyed vacation. We went on a beautiful hike to a waterfall, splashed around there for a while and went to a bird refuge to see the national bird of Peru. I took about twenty pictures of it, I’m still not sure why, I think mostly I was just surprised that it actually showed up. The next day we went to the town museum and headed back to Oxapampa, where we went to a sweet bat cave and explored a bunch. Then from there we bought some native coffee and made friends with some store owners before I had to get back on a bus and come back to my Peru.
It was really nice to come back to Yanamito. Life here is relaxed and I fell accepted in the town to the point where I’m really comfortable. Things in the school are going well. I have big plans for Earth day (April 22nd), including some garbage clean up and tree planting. This week I also wrote/finished my diagnostic, which turned out to be like 15 pages in Spanish. I hope it’s grammatically readable. So anyway because of that I’ve been thinking a lot about what I am going to be doing here over the next year and a half about (that first chunk flew by) and I think I can actually accomplish some things—I’m excited. And that’s life. Probably the funniest/dumbest thing of the last two weeks was my family trying to teach me to use a slingshot (a circle of rubber with a leather piece to hold the rock), which resulted in me smashing both my thumbs. Or my four year old buddy Jefferson asking me why legs were so hairy. And why my arms aren’t. In an hour I go read a book about the endangered Andean Puma to the first grade class, followed by them coloring for Earth day. Tomorrow I go to Huaraz to learn some more Quechua and have a regional meeting, and in a week I go to the Northern department of Lambayeque to have a training conference, see all my environment Peace Corps friends and hopefully get to the beach. Hope you’re all well and enjoying a beautiful spring in the US.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
put on your reading glasses...
The end of March brings Passover and Easter, a combination that I detested as a kid (imagine being a five year old and getting a chocolate Easter bunny that is off limits for a week…) but in Peru it’s getting me out of Ancash for the first time in over four months. This week I go to Lima for Passover Seders, followed by a trip to the department of Junín and a few days traipsing around the jungle with my friends from training for our Easter vacation. I’m excited for both parts—to get to experience Passover in another culture (my 4th country—America, Israel, India and Peru) and then afterwards to see another part of Peru and reconnect with some good friends who I spent the really intense 3 months of training seeing every day, but I haven’t seen since…Come to think of it, this is also the probably the longest period of time I have spent within a 50 mile radius (my town and the regional capitol) without leaving since high school, if not longer. And it’s not that life has gotten monotonous, I really like being in Yanamito, but it has been four months—it doesn’t really feel like a semester abroad anymore, so getting to go on a bit of an adventure should be really fun. And then at the end of April we have a week of “in service training” in a national park in Lambayeque, and in June another conference and in July hopefully my parents will come and I’ll be running a marathon, so it seems like things will really start flying from here. What the more experienced volunteers have told us is that after the first few months, these “special occasions” kind of continually line up and there’s usually something every month or so that would be considered out of the ordinary. It looks like that is in fact the case, I just hope that having all these crazy things on the horizon doesn’t distract me from my day to day life in my community too much.
I don’t think it will—I have started teaching in the primary school, 4 days a week anywhere from 1 to 4 hours a day. This is a lot different from summer school cuz the kids have to come and they have to bring notebooks and I have the full support and backup of their normal teachers, which is good. I am teaching each grade, 1st-6th, English and environment (because our school is so small, about 50 kids, 3rd and 4th grades learn together, as do 5th and 6th grades). After two weeks it is so far so good. I don’t know if I would trust a 23 year old with a big beard and Spanish as a second language to teach my kids, but the teachers, students and parents have welcomed me with open arms. I think that is mostly because they really ant there kids to learn English, which I don’t really want to teach, but it’s a good hook. Actually I don’t mind teaching English, as long as it’s vocabulary. The real problem is that I sadly have very little grip on English grammar. For now I’m just doing themed vocab—we’ll cross the grammar bridge when we get to it. So anyway, a lot of people now call me “professor Alex” which is cool I guess, if not a little misguided. And I get to do fun things like read to 1st graders about endangered Peruvian animals and make signs with 3rd and 4th graders encouraging tourists to be environmentally friendly and try and teach forty kids how to make a “th” sound (you need to stick your tongue out in between your teeth, like this…). But the educational methods and philosophy is a lot different. The kids don’t seem to know how think very well, and they try and tell you what they think you want to hear. For example I asked for a definition of the environment, and after several explanations of what I was looking for, the closest I got was a chorus of “don’t pollute the environment”. It was a bit frustrating. In terms of the teachers, there are four of them, and on a personal level I like them all a lot. They love the novelty of me and they’re better educated than the general populace, so talking to them is a bit different and always interesting. But they’re also not going to win any world’s best teacher awards. Every day there is recess from 10:30-11, but usually they sit down to eat their mid-morning snack at 11, and meander back to class around 11:20. That’s just one example and it’s not the worst thing in the world, but it’s also not the best thing in the world, and I obviously am the product of a system where that would simply not fly. The other thing that’s way different is discipline.
Most of the kids are respectful, but they’re primary school kids, they’re going to screw around. The teachers tell me I should pull ears or otherwise physically get the kids to behave. I instead usually somewhat meekly resort to a threat to send them to the principal’s office (which is usually empty because he teaches 2nd grade…) or talking to their parents. So discipline is tricky, and I as of yet have no long term solution. But that, in a rather wordy nutshell, is the school at the moment. If any of you wander into Yanamito anytime soon, most of the 3-6 graders should know the abcs in English and at least have a grasp on the numbers between 1-100.
Wow, that came out longer than I was thinking of it. So what else has happened. We harvested my old host dad’s carrots. That was fun, and another thing to put on the list that I have done in four countries. The way it works here is that in the field, you pull up the carrots and rip the tops off and put them in sacks. Then you take the sacks down to a stream, where you transfer them to big mesh sacks which you then throw in the stream and someone basically dances/jumps up and down on top of for a solid 20 or thirty minutes. This is how the carrots are cleaned. Obviously. From there you dump them out again, sort them by size (big or small) and send them to the market. It was fun. And I know carrots better than potatoes and the work was somewhat easier, so I almost felt competent.
Probably the most entertaining thing that happened this month was a story I have shared a bunch already, but it’s begging to be published for all eternity on the internet. One evening I came home after a soccer game to find my host dad on all fours in front of the toilet. I thought something bad had happened, like the toilet breaking (that would be tragic) but he was actually giggling manically. It turned out a ferret had snuck in and was hiding in our bathroom and he was trying to catch it. Eventually with the help of his son, he had it trapped in out fishing net. But while he was trying to decide what to do next, it bit him on the hand, which resulted in him dropping it and the ferret escaping. Now of course the biggest concern at this point wasn’t rabies, but where did the ferret go? Our dog answered that question by bringing it in dead… I thought that would be the end of it. But no. the next night I walk into the kitchen and what do I see right next to my mom cooking our big pot of potatoes? My dad, with a big bowl of ash from the stove, stuffing the ferret. Campo Taxidermy! So now we have a stuffed ferret, which they like to put in various parts of the house and make jokes about (“look Alex—the ferret is on the windowsill, he wanted to see Musho.” Or “The ferret is guarding our cell phones, no one will want to steal them now…”). Then I mistakenly thought that was the end of the ferret sage. Nonono. One day while passing our close line, I noticed what looked like a piece of jerky hanging from a string. This piece of jerky closely resembles a skinned ferret. What did I think happened to the meat? I asked my mom what it was for. “it’s a remedy.” “For what?” “For a variety of things…” Oh. “You didn’t think we were going to eat it did you?” Me, only in my head, “you eat guinea pigs and songbirds, why not a ferret?!” So the meat is still hanging up outside and the stuffed skin is still guarding the cell phones diligently.
Cute/funny host family story of the week (this one involves a little bit of Spanish): It was raining at 3, so my mom came back early from the fields and started cooking. So we ate at about 5 and by 530 we were kind of bored, as our favorite TV show doesn't come on till 8 and we usually don't eat till about 7:15. So my mom says in a slightly whiny voice "yo quiero kevin, Clinton (host brother) sacame kevin" or in English: "I want Keveen. Clinton find me Keveen." He's lazy so she gets up to look through the DVDs and I ask him what she's talking about--turns out to be home alone, or in Spanish mi pobre angelito--my poor angel. Anyway she couldn't find it, so we settled for Babe II: Pig in the City. Follow-up: the next night my mom again asked for Kevin. my host brother put on "Final destination 2". Follow-up part 2: the next night we watched home alone 2 (the one in New York City). my mom was enthralled and I was repeatedly asked whether I had been to every place seen in the movie.
OK last thing (sorry, transitions don’t really seem to be happening…). It’s corn harvesting season. In these parts, they harvest corn at two different stages—first choclo, which is basically sweet corn (it’s not really sweet, but they eat it like our sweet corn). Choclo is harvested gradually, only taking in what’s gonna be eaten that night. The rest of the corn is left on the stalks to dry and is harvested as maize, which is further dried and stored or sold. So now everyone is harvesting their maize, which means there’s corn everywhere. There are cobs hanging from every available post and rafter in every house, not mention tarps full of drying kernels lying out in the sun. So needless to say, we started eating more corn. One day last week I ate corn in 4 different forms—fresh boiled, dried and boiled (called mote), dried, ground and steamed with some other stuff as a sweet tamale called a humita and pan fried in oil to make a crunchy soup crouton, called cancha. All of these things were/are tasty, and if I could get that much of a range with my daily heaps of potatoes, I’d be ecstatic. So that’s my culinary commentary for the month, for anybody who has made it that far down the page. Hopefully in the next month I’ll have some more exciting adventures from other parts of the country to relay. I hope you’re all well and have a happy Passover, or Easter, or whatever else you may be celebrating.
I don’t think it will—I have started teaching in the primary school, 4 days a week anywhere from 1 to 4 hours a day. This is a lot different from summer school cuz the kids have to come and they have to bring notebooks and I have the full support and backup of their normal teachers, which is good. I am teaching each grade, 1st-6th, English and environment (because our school is so small, about 50 kids, 3rd and 4th grades learn together, as do 5th and 6th grades). After two weeks it is so far so good. I don’t know if I would trust a 23 year old with a big beard and Spanish as a second language to teach my kids, but the teachers, students and parents have welcomed me with open arms. I think that is mostly because they really ant there kids to learn English, which I don’t really want to teach, but it’s a good hook. Actually I don’t mind teaching English, as long as it’s vocabulary. The real problem is that I sadly have very little grip on English grammar. For now I’m just doing themed vocab—we’ll cross the grammar bridge when we get to it. So anyway, a lot of people now call me “professor Alex” which is cool I guess, if not a little misguided. And I get to do fun things like read to 1st graders about endangered Peruvian animals and make signs with 3rd and 4th graders encouraging tourists to be environmentally friendly and try and teach forty kids how to make a “th” sound (you need to stick your tongue out in between your teeth, like this…). But the educational methods and philosophy is a lot different. The kids don’t seem to know how think very well, and they try and tell you what they think you want to hear. For example I asked for a definition of the environment, and after several explanations of what I was looking for, the closest I got was a chorus of “don’t pollute the environment”. It was a bit frustrating. In terms of the teachers, there are four of them, and on a personal level I like them all a lot. They love the novelty of me and they’re better educated than the general populace, so talking to them is a bit different and always interesting. But they’re also not going to win any world’s best teacher awards. Every day there is recess from 10:30-11, but usually they sit down to eat their mid-morning snack at 11, and meander back to class around 11:20. That’s just one example and it’s not the worst thing in the world, but it’s also not the best thing in the world, and I obviously am the product of a system where that would simply not fly. The other thing that’s way different is discipline.
Most of the kids are respectful, but they’re primary school kids, they’re going to screw around. The teachers tell me I should pull ears or otherwise physically get the kids to behave. I instead usually somewhat meekly resort to a threat to send them to the principal’s office (which is usually empty because he teaches 2nd grade…) or talking to their parents. So discipline is tricky, and I as of yet have no long term solution. But that, in a rather wordy nutshell, is the school at the moment. If any of you wander into Yanamito anytime soon, most of the 3-6 graders should know the abcs in English and at least have a grasp on the numbers between 1-100.
Wow, that came out longer than I was thinking of it. So what else has happened. We harvested my old host dad’s carrots. That was fun, and another thing to put on the list that I have done in four countries. The way it works here is that in the field, you pull up the carrots and rip the tops off and put them in sacks. Then you take the sacks down to a stream, where you transfer them to big mesh sacks which you then throw in the stream and someone basically dances/jumps up and down on top of for a solid 20 or thirty minutes. This is how the carrots are cleaned. Obviously. From there you dump them out again, sort them by size (big or small) and send them to the market. It was fun. And I know carrots better than potatoes and the work was somewhat easier, so I almost felt competent.
Probably the most entertaining thing that happened this month was a story I have shared a bunch already, but it’s begging to be published for all eternity on the internet. One evening I came home after a soccer game to find my host dad on all fours in front of the toilet. I thought something bad had happened, like the toilet breaking (that would be tragic) but he was actually giggling manically. It turned out a ferret had snuck in and was hiding in our bathroom and he was trying to catch it. Eventually with the help of his son, he had it trapped in out fishing net. But while he was trying to decide what to do next, it bit him on the hand, which resulted in him dropping it and the ferret escaping. Now of course the biggest concern at this point wasn’t rabies, but where did the ferret go? Our dog answered that question by bringing it in dead… I thought that would be the end of it. But no. the next night I walk into the kitchen and what do I see right next to my mom cooking our big pot of potatoes? My dad, with a big bowl of ash from the stove, stuffing the ferret. Campo Taxidermy! So now we have a stuffed ferret, which they like to put in various parts of the house and make jokes about (“look Alex—the ferret is on the windowsill, he wanted to see Musho.” Or “The ferret is guarding our cell phones, no one will want to steal them now…”). Then I mistakenly thought that was the end of the ferret sage. Nonono. One day while passing our close line, I noticed what looked like a piece of jerky hanging from a string. This piece of jerky closely resembles a skinned ferret. What did I think happened to the meat? I asked my mom what it was for. “it’s a remedy.” “For what?” “For a variety of things…” Oh. “You didn’t think we were going to eat it did you?” Me, only in my head, “you eat guinea pigs and songbirds, why not a ferret?!” So the meat is still hanging up outside and the stuffed skin is still guarding the cell phones diligently.
Cute/funny host family story of the week (this one involves a little bit of Spanish): It was raining at 3, so my mom came back early from the fields and started cooking. So we ate at about 5 and by 530 we were kind of bored, as our favorite TV show doesn't come on till 8 and we usually don't eat till about 7:15. So my mom says in a slightly whiny voice "yo quiero kevin, Clinton (host brother) sacame kevin" or in English: "I want Keveen. Clinton find me Keveen." He's lazy so she gets up to look through the DVDs and I ask him what she's talking about--turns out to be home alone, or in Spanish mi pobre angelito--my poor angel. Anyway she couldn't find it, so we settled for Babe II: Pig in the City. Follow-up: the next night my mom again asked for Kevin. my host brother put on "Final destination 2". Follow-up part 2: the next night we watched home alone 2 (the one in New York City). my mom was enthralled and I was repeatedly asked whether I had been to every place seen in the movie.
OK last thing (sorry, transitions don’t really seem to be happening…). It’s corn harvesting season. In these parts, they harvest corn at two different stages—first choclo, which is basically sweet corn (it’s not really sweet, but they eat it like our sweet corn). Choclo is harvested gradually, only taking in what’s gonna be eaten that night. The rest of the corn is left on the stalks to dry and is harvested as maize, which is further dried and stored or sold. So now everyone is harvesting their maize, which means there’s corn everywhere. There are cobs hanging from every available post and rafter in every house, not mention tarps full of drying kernels lying out in the sun. So needless to say, we started eating more corn. One day last week I ate corn in 4 different forms—fresh boiled, dried and boiled (called mote), dried, ground and steamed with some other stuff as a sweet tamale called a humita and pan fried in oil to make a crunchy soup crouton, called cancha. All of these things were/are tasty, and if I could get that much of a range with my daily heaps of potatoes, I’d be ecstatic. So that’s my culinary commentary for the month, for anybody who has made it that far down the page. Hopefully in the next month I’ll have some more exciting adventures from other parts of the country to relay. I hope you’re all well and have a happy Passover, or Easter, or whatever else you may be celebrating.
Friday, February 26, 2010
A little bit about culture...
I know February is a short month, but as I’m starting to understand, it seems inevitable that my time here will continually fly by. It’s hard to believe that I will soon have been in Peru for a full six months. Nothing too exciting has been happening—every day is a little bit of an adventure, but for the most part, with my summer school classes and my new family I was able to form a bit of a routine, in which I taught in the morning, napped/relaxed, ran, played soccer and talked to the people of Yanamito in the afternoon.
But there has been some time to start processing the culture and the people around me. One of the things that I have found really interesting is the stage of development that my town, and those surrounding it, has reached. Fifteen years ago there was no electricity here. Today, not only is there light, but there are cell phones, [sporadic] internet access, television and DVDs. They have completely passed over VHS, landlines, dial up modems etc. So basically there’s this weird mix of poverty and modernity that is really interesting to confront on a daily basis.
The culture here is also in a bit of a flux. I saw a perfect example of this two weeks ago, at the 4 day long Carnival festival (pre-lent, I think their equivalent of Mardi Gras) in Tumpa, the town 25 minutes down my hill. People from all the towns in walking distance came to celebrate with multiple bands playing the previously mentioned whino music and lots of drinking and dancing. And water balloons. Lots of stupid water balloons. I haven’t been able to ride in a taxi with an open window or walk down the street without looking over my shoulder for fear of being doused by a water balloon, or a bucket of water or a water gun. I wish I had a giant super soaker. Anyway, what I saw was that most of the women of about 35+ years of age were wearing the traditional pollera and manta (http://k43.pbase.com/u27/gchong2426/upload/16693845.per91.JPG) and the men of that age were wearing khakis and plain wool sweaters. Meanwhile, most of the women aged 12-35 were wearing tight jeans and tank tops and the younger men were sporting euro-style jeans and shirts and jackets emblazoned with English writing and/or symbols and logos. It’s interesting to see the culture shifting in front of my eyes and also what parts of our culture have been adopted over here. Somehow, the youth of my town have managed to discover emo and Eminem and they flock to the internet to chatear (you should be able to figure that one out even with no Spanish), but are still shocked to discover that, yes, it does also rain in the US, we also grow potatoes and no, New York is nowhere near Spain or Italy.
The language here is also in flux. I started learning Quechua. By started I mean I sat through 12 hours of class, I have 12 more this week, I can count to two and I can name various animals and body parts. The truth is I’m probably not trying as hard as I should be. Partially this is because I don’t particularly like learning languages and I’m still coming along in Spanish. But also it just doesn’t seem that urgent to me. In my town the adults prefer Quechua, and some of the oldest people really don’t speak very much Spanish, but for the most part I can converse with everyone. While my host parents grew up speaking mostly Quechua, my host brother, who is 15, says he understands it but can’t speak it. If I had to guess, it probably won’t be around THAT much longer in Yanamito. Which I guess is kind of a bummer if you see the value in indigenous culture. Anyway, there are times when I miss out on the conversation around me, and I will keep trying, but I’m not all that stressed about Quechua at the moment.
On to my new family. They’re great. My host parents are super sweet to me and refer to me as one of their children, and the house is nice and I’m really comfortable. And having a 15 year old host brother is great. He’s a bit doofy, but he’s fun to hang out with. Here are some highlights: we collected 5 pounds of wild blackberries last Sunday. We started playing marbles (on an uneven mud floor—very challenging). I watched him take down a small bird with his slingshot (he was very excited, I was slightly disgusted. But this was two days after we gathered the berries, so I did feel like kind of a hunter gatherer, which was cool). We burned through all three seasons of the Simpsons that I bought for cheap in Lima, and now he pulls some annoying Bart Simpson lines on his mom, which she chuckles at and I find hilarious—definitely a kid after my own heart. There are some slightly aggravating aspects as well, like listening to the Tupac California Love remix he made on repeat, but on the whole having him around (or maybe him having me around) is awesome.
And that’s life. There are a million more things that happen on a daily basis that are either perplexing or hilarious (For examples: A chicken wandered into, and died in, my friend Pete’s latrine. I asked a 3 year old in a class I was helping to facilitate what she had in her mouth. It was an entire pencil sharpener. When I walked back over 3 minutes later, she was chewing on the business end of a colored pencil—slightly confused. I watched the second half of the super bowl in Spanish—during the first half we experienced a blackout. I went on a beautiful 4 hour hike with a bunch of friends to a glacial lake and jumped in, which was cold enough to induce some profanity shouting, but worth it (I think)), but for the most part I am just choosing to accept them as the intricacies of the life I chose to lead for these two years, although I still get together with my friends and laugh about them. But if anyone wants to come see for themselves, I hear airfare can be cheap (says the recent college graduate not making any money…) and in a month I get to start taking vacations, so let me know…
But there has been some time to start processing the culture and the people around me. One of the things that I have found really interesting is the stage of development that my town, and those surrounding it, has reached. Fifteen years ago there was no electricity here. Today, not only is there light, but there are cell phones, [sporadic] internet access, television and DVDs. They have completely passed over VHS, landlines, dial up modems etc. So basically there’s this weird mix of poverty and modernity that is really interesting to confront on a daily basis.
The culture here is also in a bit of a flux. I saw a perfect example of this two weeks ago, at the 4 day long Carnival festival (pre-lent, I think their equivalent of Mardi Gras) in Tumpa, the town 25 minutes down my hill. People from all the towns in walking distance came to celebrate with multiple bands playing the previously mentioned whino music and lots of drinking and dancing. And water balloons. Lots of stupid water balloons. I haven’t been able to ride in a taxi with an open window or walk down the street without looking over my shoulder for fear of being doused by a water balloon, or a bucket of water or a water gun. I wish I had a giant super soaker. Anyway, what I saw was that most of the women of about 35+ years of age were wearing the traditional pollera and manta (http://k43.pbase.com/u27/gchong2426/upload/16693845.per91.JPG) and the men of that age were wearing khakis and plain wool sweaters. Meanwhile, most of the women aged 12-35 were wearing tight jeans and tank tops and the younger men were sporting euro-style jeans and shirts and jackets emblazoned with English writing and/or symbols and logos. It’s interesting to see the culture shifting in front of my eyes and also what parts of our culture have been adopted over here. Somehow, the youth of my town have managed to discover emo and Eminem and they flock to the internet to chatear (you should be able to figure that one out even with no Spanish), but are still shocked to discover that, yes, it does also rain in the US, we also grow potatoes and no, New York is nowhere near Spain or Italy.
The language here is also in flux. I started learning Quechua. By started I mean I sat through 12 hours of class, I have 12 more this week, I can count to two and I can name various animals and body parts. The truth is I’m probably not trying as hard as I should be. Partially this is because I don’t particularly like learning languages and I’m still coming along in Spanish. But also it just doesn’t seem that urgent to me. In my town the adults prefer Quechua, and some of the oldest people really don’t speak very much Spanish, but for the most part I can converse with everyone. While my host parents grew up speaking mostly Quechua, my host brother, who is 15, says he understands it but can’t speak it. If I had to guess, it probably won’t be around THAT much longer in Yanamito. Which I guess is kind of a bummer if you see the value in indigenous culture. Anyway, there are times when I miss out on the conversation around me, and I will keep trying, but I’m not all that stressed about Quechua at the moment.
On to my new family. They’re great. My host parents are super sweet to me and refer to me as one of their children, and the house is nice and I’m really comfortable. And having a 15 year old host brother is great. He’s a bit doofy, but he’s fun to hang out with. Here are some highlights: we collected 5 pounds of wild blackberries last Sunday. We started playing marbles (on an uneven mud floor—very challenging). I watched him take down a small bird with his slingshot (he was very excited, I was slightly disgusted. But this was two days after we gathered the berries, so I did feel like kind of a hunter gatherer, which was cool). We burned through all three seasons of the Simpsons that I bought for cheap in Lima, and now he pulls some annoying Bart Simpson lines on his mom, which she chuckles at and I find hilarious—definitely a kid after my own heart. There are some slightly aggravating aspects as well, like listening to the Tupac California Love remix he made on repeat, but on the whole having him around (or maybe him having me around) is awesome.
And that’s life. There are a million more things that happen on a daily basis that are either perplexing or hilarious (For examples: A chicken wandered into, and died in, my friend Pete’s latrine. I asked a 3 year old in a class I was helping to facilitate what she had in her mouth. It was an entire pencil sharpener. When I walked back over 3 minutes later, she was chewing on the business end of a colored pencil—slightly confused. I watched the second half of the super bowl in Spanish—during the first half we experienced a blackout. I went on a beautiful 4 hour hike with a bunch of friends to a glacial lake and jumped in, which was cold enough to induce some profanity shouting, but worth it (I think)), but for the most part I am just choosing to accept them as the intricacies of the life I chose to lead for these two years, although I still get together with my friends and laugh about them. But if anyone wants to come see for themselves, I hear airfare can be cheap (says the recent college graduate not making any money…) and in a month I get to start taking vacations, so let me know…
Friday, January 29, 2010
Just had my first cup of coffee in three weeks...
and it was very, very good.
Well the month of January has come and gone, which is kind of hard to believe, especially because without any seasonal weather changes, and without weekends really being any different from weekdays here in Yanamito, the passage of time feels all screwy. Anyway, the past couple of weeks have been a bit up and down, but overall good I would say. I made it through three weeks of summer school, teaching English and some environmental themes. I’m not going to lie, so far the majority of my environment classes have entailed either old discovery channel DVDs or environmentally themed coloring pages with brief discussions about why the kids should care about the environment. During that time they mostly just fight about who gets to use what markers, over my repeated insistence that they need to be shared. English class is a bit more involved—there’s a whole bunch of kids running around town singing “heads, shoulders, knees and toes” and shouting out “good morning” or “good afternoon” or “hello teacher” when they see me. Overall it has been a slightly taxing but good experience so far. Every day there are anywhere from 8-15 kids who show up, we have class from 8 (usually 8:30—timeliness does not really exist…) until 10 and the kids seem to enjoy it, and the parents, and townspeople in general, seem to be happy that I am teaching. The classroom experience is a lot different from anything I have ever seen in the US. The kids are well enough behaved, although the concept of hand raising is foreign to them, but it doesn’t seem like they have really been taught or encouraged to think. They like being told what to do, they like copying off the board and they like repeating, but trying to get a discussion going is like pulling teeth. I am interested in sitting in on some classes during the school year to see what it’s like when the real professors are at work.
The other big thing that happened this month was that my host mom took the kids and left the house. I’m not going to go into any detail, given how it’s a personal matter for them, but I will say that that has been tough. The house has been really quiet, and my host dad and grandma have been pretty bummed. I also was perpetually confused because anytime anyone discussed anything relating to it, they spoke in Quechua, so I had no clue what was going on. Anyway, after talking to a bunch of higher ups and friends, I decided that the best thing for me would be to change houses. I feel bad about leaving, because Rolando and his mom have both treated me really well and I feel a little bit like I am deserting them, but given the fact that this is going to be where I’m at for two years, I need to do what I feel is best for me. So I am moving into his brother’s house, about a 3 minute walk away. They have a real toilet (!!), a fifteen year old son and two daughters who live outside the community (this is what Peru has done to me—real plumbing takes precedence over children), so all of those birthday wishes I made when I was little asking for a little brother are kind of coming true. I know the family pretty well, they are really nice and they said they’d welcome me like a son and I am kind of excited to be living in a family structure where the parents are actually closer to the age of my real parents. So I moved all my stuff yesterday and hopefully that will be for the best.
Other thing of note: I started playing football (that’s soccer to us). I am still pretty bad, but I vowed to get better. It’s giving me a good in with the younger guys around here too, which I think will be good. And despite my lack of skill, they still invite me to come play, which feels welcoming (they also bet a sol on every game, so maybe they’re just taking me for my money…who knows?). Football is actually another cool way in which the community comes together—whoever wants to play can, so you get a good mix of teenagers, guys in their 20s and a few middle aged men thrown in as well, and they all have a really good time with it. Anyways I hope I get better quick, but if not, there is are a few kids who are begging me to buy a basketball, and although I’ve never been Michael Jordan, if nothing else my height will allow me to make them all think I’m really good.
Also, Quechua classes start tomorrow, so we’ll see how that goes. It’s a really hard seeming language, and I’m not much of a language person to start with but I will try my best.
And that’s about it here. As my mom pointed out a week ago, this is the longest I have ever gone without seeing my family (5 months), which was to be expected, but still feels kind of strange (I also ran out of my regular Colgate toothpaste, which didn’t happen in India or Israel…). When I here news from home (job updates, engagements, weddings, random encounters etc) I realize that a lot is going on while I’m off trying to be a do-gooder in Peru. But I am glad I am doing what I am doing, I think I’m really lucky to be where I am and every day I get more comfortable with the people around me. So yea life is good and I hope you all feel the same…
Well the month of January has come and gone, which is kind of hard to believe, especially because without any seasonal weather changes, and without weekends really being any different from weekdays here in Yanamito, the passage of time feels all screwy. Anyway, the past couple of weeks have been a bit up and down, but overall good I would say. I made it through three weeks of summer school, teaching English and some environmental themes. I’m not going to lie, so far the majority of my environment classes have entailed either old discovery channel DVDs or environmentally themed coloring pages with brief discussions about why the kids should care about the environment. During that time they mostly just fight about who gets to use what markers, over my repeated insistence that they need to be shared. English class is a bit more involved—there’s a whole bunch of kids running around town singing “heads, shoulders, knees and toes” and shouting out “good morning” or “good afternoon” or “hello teacher” when they see me. Overall it has been a slightly taxing but good experience so far. Every day there are anywhere from 8-15 kids who show up, we have class from 8 (usually 8:30—timeliness does not really exist…) until 10 and the kids seem to enjoy it, and the parents, and townspeople in general, seem to be happy that I am teaching. The classroom experience is a lot different from anything I have ever seen in the US. The kids are well enough behaved, although the concept of hand raising is foreign to them, but it doesn’t seem like they have really been taught or encouraged to think. They like being told what to do, they like copying off the board and they like repeating, but trying to get a discussion going is like pulling teeth. I am interested in sitting in on some classes during the school year to see what it’s like when the real professors are at work.
The other big thing that happened this month was that my host mom took the kids and left the house. I’m not going to go into any detail, given how it’s a personal matter for them, but I will say that that has been tough. The house has been really quiet, and my host dad and grandma have been pretty bummed. I also was perpetually confused because anytime anyone discussed anything relating to it, they spoke in Quechua, so I had no clue what was going on. Anyway, after talking to a bunch of higher ups and friends, I decided that the best thing for me would be to change houses. I feel bad about leaving, because Rolando and his mom have both treated me really well and I feel a little bit like I am deserting them, but given the fact that this is going to be where I’m at for two years, I need to do what I feel is best for me. So I am moving into his brother’s house, about a 3 minute walk away. They have a real toilet (!!), a fifteen year old son and two daughters who live outside the community (this is what Peru has done to me—real plumbing takes precedence over children), so all of those birthday wishes I made when I was little asking for a little brother are kind of coming true. I know the family pretty well, they are really nice and they said they’d welcome me like a son and I am kind of excited to be living in a family structure where the parents are actually closer to the age of my real parents. So I moved all my stuff yesterday and hopefully that will be for the best.
Other thing of note: I started playing football (that’s soccer to us). I am still pretty bad, but I vowed to get better. It’s giving me a good in with the younger guys around here too, which I think will be good. And despite my lack of skill, they still invite me to come play, which feels welcoming (they also bet a sol on every game, so maybe they’re just taking me for my money…who knows?). Football is actually another cool way in which the community comes together—whoever wants to play can, so you get a good mix of teenagers, guys in their 20s and a few middle aged men thrown in as well, and they all have a really good time with it. Anyways I hope I get better quick, but if not, there is are a few kids who are begging me to buy a basketball, and although I’ve never been Michael Jordan, if nothing else my height will allow me to make them all think I’m really good.
Also, Quechua classes start tomorrow, so we’ll see how that goes. It’s a really hard seeming language, and I’m not much of a language person to start with but I will try my best.
And that’s about it here. As my mom pointed out a week ago, this is the longest I have ever gone without seeing my family (5 months), which was to be expected, but still feels kind of strange (I also ran out of my regular Colgate toothpaste, which didn’t happen in India or Israel…). When I here news from home (job updates, engagements, weddings, random encounters etc) I realize that a lot is going on while I’m off trying to be a do-gooder in Peru. But I am glad I am doing what I am doing, I think I’m really lucky to be where I am and every day I get more comfortable with the people around me. So yea life is good and I hope you all feel the same…
Friday, January 8, 2010
2010!
Happy 2010! So it’s been a pretty interesting week or two here in Ancash, starting with new years. I’ve never been such a big new years partier, so I figured I would just hang out with my host family and do what they do. What they do is stay up until midnight, drink hot chocolate and eat paneton, wish each other “feliz año nuevo” and go to bed. Things were going fine until 10, when I got sleepy and my host dad put on a terrible, dubbed martial arts movie. But I powered through that and at 1130 the snacks were served and we put on Rambo, which was a good change of pace. So I made it until twelve, which I think is the latest I have been up since training ended 6 weeks ago. We went outside and it was a beautiful night with a full moon that illuminated the snow covered mountain peaks—really gorgeous. There were some fireworks and my host mom burned a doll made of old clothes—it’s supposed to bring luck for the New Year, and everyone likes burning things. Then I walked over to the town plaza (up the street) where there were some beers being passed around a circle and really loud whyno music (you should check it out—it’s not good http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=04JpzkDbIq8). All in all it was a nice tranquil way to pass the New Year. And New Year’s Day my Peace Corps friends Pete and Kaitlin, who live within walking distance, and I went on a long hike to celebrate amongst ourselves. It was absolutely beautiful, and it proved our theory that where we live, if we start walking in any direction, we’re bound to wind up encountering a stunning landscape. So that was a good start to 2010.
Then this week has been a week of what else but potatoes. My host family harvested their biggest field of potatoes all week long. At this point we’re about ½ to 2/3 done and by my calculations it’s already been over 3000 pounds sent to market. I was invited to come help and for the first time I was actually allowed to do a little work (usually when I go out to the fields I am told “this work is hard, you should sit here in the shade). The whole extended family came out (about 12 people per day) and the jobs are either digging up the potatoes with a pick or sorting them by size. At first I just sorted them, but eventually against everyone’s advice, I grabbed an unoccupied pick. No one believes that I’ve done physical labor before, and unfortunately it has been awhile—my calluses are gone and I have what my old manager at the farm would refer to as “wuss hands”, so within an hour I had a few blisters and I was encouraged to go sit in the shade. But I pushed on for long enough to salvage some dignity and I think that at the end of the day I was more of a help than a hindrance (I hope).
So we harvested a lot of potatoes and then my dad asked if I wanted to accompany him to the market to sell them on Saturday night. I have always been fascinated by markets so I jumped at the chance. So at 11 pm on Saturday night we crowded into the back of a truck with a few tons of fresh produce (potatoes, beans, hot peppers, herbs, corn etc) and about 10 other people and drove two hours down the hill to a city called Carhuaz, where they have this huge market Saturdays and Wednesdays (I also went Tuesday night for the Wednesday market at 1 am in a small station wagon of a cab with 13 people in it. At least I think it was 13—I couldn’t fully turn my head to count…). The market is awesome, a combination of wholesalers and retailers, selling everything from fresh produce grown locally, to tropical fruit brought in from the coast, to fresh meat, to dry goods and clothes. We arrived at about 2:30, set out our 15 sacks of potatoes and slept on the sidewalk until a buyer walked up at 3:30 and asked my host dad how much. We had sold everything by 4, at which point we sat/slept with some other vendors from Yanamito until 6, when we did our grocery shopping for the week. I was amazed by the huge variety of goods, as well as the hustle and bustle of the market, accompanied by throngs of people, many of them women in brightly colored traditional clothes. I’m excited to go back on a full nights sleep and wander around for a few hours.
So yea those were all cool things. The other two notable things were I was coerced into tasting tokush, which is some kind of fermented porridge which tastes OK because it’s loaded with sugar, but was honestly the foulest smelling thing I have ever eaten. That was not so fun—the smell is kind of still haunting me. I also saw a feature on Peruvian TV about a Peruvian midget who dances to Michael Jackson songs in the Times Square subway station and is known as “the mini Michael Jackson”. So if anyone passes him by, give him a dollar for me…
And that’s life. My summer school teaching starts on Monday and the kids seem excited, which is great. And in two weeks we have intensive Quechua language training, which will be cool if I can learn enough to communicate with the older folks who don’t speak much Spanish or follow a conversation. Wish me luck and I hope everyone had a great new year’s.
Then this week has been a week of what else but potatoes. My host family harvested their biggest field of potatoes all week long. At this point we’re about ½ to 2/3 done and by my calculations it’s already been over 3000 pounds sent to market. I was invited to come help and for the first time I was actually allowed to do a little work (usually when I go out to the fields I am told “this work is hard, you should sit here in the shade). The whole extended family came out (about 12 people per day) and the jobs are either digging up the potatoes with a pick or sorting them by size. At first I just sorted them, but eventually against everyone’s advice, I grabbed an unoccupied pick. No one believes that I’ve done physical labor before, and unfortunately it has been awhile—my calluses are gone and I have what my old manager at the farm would refer to as “wuss hands”, so within an hour I had a few blisters and I was encouraged to go sit in the shade. But I pushed on for long enough to salvage some dignity and I think that at the end of the day I was more of a help than a hindrance (I hope).
So we harvested a lot of potatoes and then my dad asked if I wanted to accompany him to the market to sell them on Saturday night. I have always been fascinated by markets so I jumped at the chance. So at 11 pm on Saturday night we crowded into the back of a truck with a few tons of fresh produce (potatoes, beans, hot peppers, herbs, corn etc) and about 10 other people and drove two hours down the hill to a city called Carhuaz, where they have this huge market Saturdays and Wednesdays (I also went Tuesday night for the Wednesday market at 1 am in a small station wagon of a cab with 13 people in it. At least I think it was 13—I couldn’t fully turn my head to count…). The market is awesome, a combination of wholesalers and retailers, selling everything from fresh produce grown locally, to tropical fruit brought in from the coast, to fresh meat, to dry goods and clothes. We arrived at about 2:30, set out our 15 sacks of potatoes and slept on the sidewalk until a buyer walked up at 3:30 and asked my host dad how much. We had sold everything by 4, at which point we sat/slept with some other vendors from Yanamito until 6, when we did our grocery shopping for the week. I was amazed by the huge variety of goods, as well as the hustle and bustle of the market, accompanied by throngs of people, many of them women in brightly colored traditional clothes. I’m excited to go back on a full nights sleep and wander around for a few hours.
So yea those were all cool things. The other two notable things were I was coerced into tasting tokush, which is some kind of fermented porridge which tastes OK because it’s loaded with sugar, but was honestly the foulest smelling thing I have ever eaten. That was not so fun—the smell is kind of still haunting me. I also saw a feature on Peruvian TV about a Peruvian midget who dances to Michael Jackson songs in the Times Square subway station and is known as “the mini Michael Jackson”. So if anyone passes him by, give him a dollar for me…
And that’s life. My summer school teaching starts on Monday and the kids seem excited, which is great. And in two weeks we have intensive Quechua language training, which will be cool if I can learn enough to communicate with the older folks who don’t speak much Spanish or follow a conversation. Wish me luck and I hope everyone had a great new year’s.
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