Friday, December 21, 2007

Oh my God, the Gringa runs….for fun!!!

So basically attempting to run here is a huge ordeal. Thus far I have run three times, every time becoming more absurdly unproductive than the last. First of all, everyone I pass asks me if I’m exercising. What else would I be doing?!? It’s not like I’m running by decked out in my Sunday best. Frequently these oh-so-friendly folk also invite me in for a meal, apparently forgetting that I just told them I was exercising. Until today I had managed to dodge these invitations with ridiculous refusals such as, “I can’t I’m breathing hard” or “I’m coming back.” The latter excuse has worked quite well until today when, on my way back, one of my not-so-spry aunts emerged from behind some bushes and started sprinting after me yelling at me to get in her house and eat some breakfast. Clearly I had no option so I told her I could only stay for un ratito no más. Unfortunately, the ratito turned into about 30 minutes and included the consumption of a huge bowl of coffee—I hate coffee—and a plate of pork, bread and yucca. Being vegetarian, I at least was able to avoid the pork. During our “conversation”, which was entirely one-sided and consisted of me smiling politely and trying to pay attention while gagging down large gulps of coffee, she tried to tell me that she also runs everyday at 4:00 am. Just as I was about to leave she handed me a giant three liter bottle full of chicha (corn liquor) which obviously inhibited all hopes of continuing with my run. I ended up taking a moto-taxi (i.e. rickshaw) back to my house thus completing my entirely counter-productive workout. Furthermore, to all of the people in my town it appeared that I had indeed been running to buy the giant three liter bottle of chicha, in effect, reinforcing their belief that I am not actually exercising.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

English!!!

Last night I was basically accosted by two teenage girls as I emerged from the latrine. I noticed that one of them had a pigeon in her hands and as she rapidly approached me with arms outreached I began to get the idea that she wanted me to take it. Indeed, they gifted me the pigeon. Why on earth I would want a pigeon l have no idea. They don’t seem too hard to come by. Luckily I used the Cuerpo de Paz as an excuse and I politely told them I’m not allowed to have pets. However, I think they were thinking more along the lines that I would be enjoying it for dinner. Anyway, they had an ulterior motive for such generosity, that being ENGLISH. Yes, everyone wants to learn it. So it looks like English classes will be starting up in January. No pigeons necessary for enrollment.

The Daily Breakfast Debacle

One would think that a Peace Corps volunteer would have much more pressing issues to confront than breakfast. Yet daily, my largest hurdle is breakfast. Foolishly I thought that I had convinced my host-mom that I was going to prepare my own breakfast. Maybe I misunderstood something when she said, “Oh yeah, that’s fine,” after I explained that I would cook breakfast for myself. Every single day I wake up thinking that she’ll finally get it. I wake up thinking how nice it will be to eat what I want, meaning something that won’t cause an imminent heart attack. And every morn I crack open my door to my mother’s smiling face telling me that, yes indeed, breakfast is a-ready-and-waitin’. The thing is everyday I have what I consider to be a serious conversation about preparing my own breakfast. And she always seems to comprehend. As I see it now we are beginning to slip into a passive-aggressive battle over who will prepare my breakfast. Yesterday, I managed to make it to the table and eat before she spotted me. All hopes of victory were quickly dashed when she served me another plate of food. Yep, two breakfasts. This morning I ended up eating hot chocolate and cookies.

Swearing-In and First Week at Site

Last Friday we had our swearing-in ceremony at the training center. The first-lady of Peru spoke but I honest-to-god don’t remember a single word she said because my legs were being demolished by viscous little insects that bit me so many times I wanted to cry. Surely you don’t find this very titillating but it’s significant because I had to show up in my community looking like I have some kind of highly contagious disease which is somehow localized to my lower legs.

After the ceremony, Peace Corps paid for a nice hotel in a ritzy part of Lima. Everyone opted for a nice dinner at a restaurant right on the ocean. We ended the night at a really fancy night club. Doesn’t really sound like Peace Corps does it?

Before finally arriving at our communities on the 4th of December, everyone spent a few days in their capitol cities. I should mention that when everyone left Lima it was pretty hard to say goodbye. I definitely cried with a few people. It is amazing how close I feel to the rest of the people in my training group after only 2½ months.

So far I’ve been in site for a little over a week. I don’t feel like my first week at site has been normal. Then again, I doubt there is such a thing as a normal first week of Peace Corps service. Within 30 minutes of my arrival I was talking to a “contractor” about putting in a concrete floor. They actually put it in today so I’m starting to feel like I’m getting things done too quickly. However, that makes is sound like the process was easier than it actually was. I was solely responsible for finding the materials and getting them to my house. For my room that was 7 bags of concrete, 2 bags of paint and a massive heap of sand and rock mixture. They sent me in search of some guy named Paco who lives “más allá.” In Spanish that means “somewhere that way.” Yes, it’s as vague as it sounds. Somehow I located Paco and I ended up visiting him twice because the supplies didn’t arrive the first time around. The concrete was transported down the Pan-American highway on the back of a rickshaw which barely moves even without being unevenly weighted down. The sand and rock mixture was more like sand and boulders so I’m not sure why they didn’t have me buy sand. Anyway, it ended up in a heap in the middle of the road in front of my house. Furthermore, I bought paint for walls instead of the floor so I had to buy more paint. I don’t want to waste the wall paint so I’ll probably end up with yellow-gold walls which unfortunately won’t come close to complementing any of the many other colors in my room. If anything it will distract from the Christmas theme which is currently going on with my red floor and green bed. To spice it up even more I purchased a lovely plastic wardrobe that is sporting a bucolic water scene replete with sail boats. Of course it’s bright blue.

Another purchase I made was a mattress. My mattress apparently has a name…Geraldine. Don’t worry, I haven’t named my mattress but I keep finding tags displaying its name. Someone decided to put a giant tag on every single side of the mattress. One would think that one tag would be sufficient but apparently 6 are better. At least Mattress Geraldine is better than the mattress I could have bought – Mattress Sex. Who thought that was a marketable name?!?

I bought an exercise mat which also has a great name…Happy Tourist. According to the tag it is “ideal for camping, hiking, mountaineering, exercising, lifesaving, and for picnics.” Basically if you don’t have one you should because this mat apparently does it all.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Cell Phone Fiasco...

So I only managed to hold on to my cell phone for a week. Exactly one week. They gave them to us last week and I already lost it. Those of you that know me will not be surprised at all. I´m not even surprised. I think I almost expected it. Anyway, I think the woman sitting next to me on the bus took it. I called my number with another phone and a woman answered. She tried to tell me it wasn´t my phone...not sure how she expected me to believe that. All attempts to get it back were futile. She just said flat out, ¨No, I found it¨. It looks like I´ll be buying a new phone. Thus, I will be back in the capitol city in a few days and will be posting an actual blog of what I have been doing. And I´ll let you know my cell phone number so you can call me!

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Fish, Rob & Snails

So my future site has now been visited. I like it and I think I will end up liking it a lot. It’s actually quite beautiful although not quite as picturesque or dramatic as some of the other sites. Some of my fellow trainees will be heading for the mountains and the cloud forest but over half of all the environmental trainees are being placed in the dry forest. My caserío, which is kind of like a spread out tiny town, has about 500 inhabitants.

My host-family really does just consist of an older woman and her 16 year old great-niece. However, they are basically related to everyone else in the caserío so other people are always stopping by the house. Also, I do have water and electricity but it is not as posh as I was imagining. The electricity is primarily used to power the constant flow of telenovelas (soap operas) blasting from the television. I have a lightbulb in my room but no switch to turn it on. The water comes for just one hour each morning and during this time they have to fill buckets with water to last for the day. My room is pretty large but I think when I return I’m going to make some improvements like putting in a concrete floor instead of dirt and installing a window. Perhaps I’ll reverse the door so that the lock on my room is on the correct side. As of now they can lock me out of the house but I can’t actually lock my room. I also think that plugging up some of the gaps between the wall and the ceiling is in order as I received nightly visits from rats darting across one of the ceiling beams.

Luckily my host-grandmother accepted my vegetarianism very well. For some volunteers it can be a source of contention. People can’t truly fathom why anyone would chose to be a vegetarian. Rather the concept often seems inconceivable. Of course vegetarians eat chicken as it is clearly not meat. Fish is also not off limits. Hence I ate fish for 11 consecutive meals in a row during my site visit.

People in the campo (rural countryside) seemed to have a harder time understanding my Spanish. Some of them seemed surprised when I told them I spoke English. Apparently they thought I lacked all capacity for speech and that I didn’t actually speak any language fluently. I’m not sure what that suggests about their opinion of my intelligence level.

They were also very glad to hear that I came from the campo in the US. Most people thought I would be from the city. Unfortunately they now also believe that I’ve grown up raising chickens and sheep and tending mango trees in my backyard. I got several questions that threw me off guard like “What do you feed your turkeys?” Did I say I had turkeys?!?

During my site visit I spent much of my time listening to the people talk incessantly about Rob, the volunteer I am replacing. Without exception, EVERYONE loves Rob. This is somewhat intimidating but I am also encouraged because it appears that what Rob did is not actually important. While I do believe that he probably accomplished a lot during his two years, the people chose to avoid this subject entirely. Rather they concentrated on the fact that Rob now dances and drinks chicha, the local alcohol. In fact Rob also now loves the Peruvian food so much that everyone is convinced that he literally won’t be able to digest US food when he returns. This subject apparently never gets old as my host-grandmother brought it up hourly.

One afternoon I visited with Rob to chat with him about the site, etc. It was good to get his perspective on things and to listen to his advice. While I was there I joined him on the weekly community cleanup organized by the local women. Assuming that in his two years he had managed to convince them to incorporate picking up trash was horrible misguided. Rather each woman had her own broom and in a condensed group they walked down the road sweeping whatever lay in their path. What resulted was a swirl of dust and occasional piles of garbage on the side of the road. Robert, being a dedicated Peace Corps volunteer, brought along his trash bag and politely reminded them that they should be collecting the trash. Of course they complied, knowing it would appease him. However, upon reaching the end of the road they quickly took to burning the trash. Rob’s bag was taken by his host-mom to the nearby micro-landfill. Thinking that perhaps at least his mom had been converted into a little environmentalist, I had to stifle back laughter when she informed him that she too was going to burn the trash. Rob tried in vain to explain that it would be better to cover it with dirt. Thus, while she was temporarily preoccupied he attempted to slyly kick dirt over the top. Despite his efforts, his mother was undeterred and returned to light the trash afire. Poor guy…two years of service and this is what he had to show his replacement volunteer.

This just in: Before I had time to post this entry I was accosted by one of the over-zealous host-moms in my neighborhood. I was talking with my friend Sara when her mom spotted the minor burn on my arm which I got from the steam exiting a hot-pot. She informed me that she had just the cure and started saying something about caracoles. Not knowing what that meant I assumed when she started heading for her plants that it was something like aloe. Wrong indeed. I spent the next five minutes with a family of snails on my arm—one big one and two little babies. I had to let them be until they had covered the wound with a satisfactory amount of goo!

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Site Assignments!

I would have written this entry yesterday but apparently someone decided to steal our power lines. I was not aware that was plausible nor did I realize that anyone else was aware that it was plausible. Indeed it is.

Anyway, I have finally been divulged the location of my future site. My next two years will be spent in Huaca Rivera, Lambayeque, a small pueblo located in the dry forest. Actually it directly borders el Santuario Histórico Bosque de Pomac which is basically a forest reserve but also an important archeological site. It contains a number of pre-Incan pyramids constructed by the Sicán culture. For those of you bird fanatics I claim as friends, which is probably more than I should admit, you’ll be excited to know that there are more than 70 species of birds there, of which 22 are endemic. So even if my absence is not enough to draw you down to Peru, maybe the endangered Cortarrama Peruana will be enough to entice you. As the direct progeny of self-professed bird devotees (i.e. my parents) I suspect that it’s only a matter of time until I too join the world of the bird-obsessed.

I’ve actually already been to the Bosque de Pomac because it was one of the sites we visited during field based training. I cannot say that it was not a complete shock as indeed I am going to the last site I expected to be going to. In fact, I am headed for the one site I specifically told my director that I did not want. Regardless, I am now really content to be going there. I expect it to be challenging but I am eager to see what unfolds. As of now my work will center on dry forest conservation and sustainable development within the community. Interestingly enough, I am replacing a volunteer who will be completing his service at the end of November. I will be living with a 67 year old woman and her 16 year old granddaughter and, surprisingly, I will have both water and electricity.

My mentality is no longer that of a normal 23 year old which I realized yesterday while talking to my sister on the phone. After explaining the myriad of details of my site placement I proceeded to list off why I was excited….number one being that I will be living with a grandmother and number two being the capacity to use a blender. My sister interrupted saying, “Whoa…listen to what you just said.” What kind of 23 year old lists living with an old woman and having a blender as her top two priorities?

I would also like to add that I without a doubt accidentally insulted one of my relatives. However, in my defense she named her child Celery. She introduced me to said little girl and before I could stop myself the words, “Like the vegetable?!?!” had slipped out of my mouth. Evidently she heard the word celery on a telenovela and thought it was pretty. Just maybe she should have looked it up before she decided to permanently impose the name on her child. Later she asked me again if celery was indeed a vegetable and, while I couldn’t lie, I tried to pull of the “Don’t worry it’s a really pretty name.” Basically, it was awkward.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Last week I spent in Field Based Training (FBT), a week-long excursion from training in the center for more training in the field. All of the environment trainees went to the department of Lambayeque to spend some quality time in the dry forest.

This past week following FBT was somewhat overwhelming…not completely in a bad way. It had its ups and downs. Each volunteer had individual interviews with our director about where we will be spending the next two years. Of course they were all vague and we won’t actually know where we are going until Tuesday. Mine ended with him informing me that he envisions placing me in a “very difficult site”. Make of that what you will. Basically some people will be going to sites with water, electricity, cell-phone service or internet, and an organized community. I get the feeling I’m not one of those people.

This week we also had our first fellow trainee leave to go home to the states. We didn’t really know he was leaving until he was gone. Even though I didn’t really know him well it is sad to me knowing that he won’t be here anymore.

As for Leonardo Dicaprio, he has taken a prominent position in my stairwell. The other day I was walking down the stairs when I was startled by the much larger-than-life portrait of Leo my family decided to hang on the wall. It’s a poster but it’s hung up with all of its cardboard corner protectors well in place...not tacky at all. Fortunately it’s not a very flattering photo because our stairs are already difficult to walk down.

Yesterday my host-grandmother turned 78 years old. Here in Peru it appears that no birthday passes without a massive celebration. In my grandmother’s case I would say it was more of an extravaganza. Talk about utter ridiculousness. Let’s just say it went down Peruvian style…lots of beer (most of it but not all making it into people’s mouths and the rest finding its way to the floor or my face), intoxicated close-talking Peruvian men (think about where the beer on my face came from), and a 10 member strong traditional Peruvian orchestra. Unfortunately this all took place in my house. I passed a good portion of the night “listening” to my host-uncle who chose to talk at a distance of about 5 cm from my face. Luckily my friend Annie was there to share in the joy. About the time I realized I wanted to go to bed I also realized that the party wouldn’t be ending any time soon. I finally managed to make it to bed around two in the morning. However, no sooner did I lay my head on my pillow when the drunken band-members decided to start a random jam session. Contemplate what an earsplitting blend of Fantasia and Kenny G would sound like and then contemplate trying to sleep. Thinking I would be able to sleep in this morning was also stupid. Apparently, the band spent the night and I think the harpist woke up inspired around 5:30 because I also woke up around 5:30 to classical harp tunes blasting up the stairs. I’m not sure how I feel about birthdays anymore.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

It looks like I’ve already managed to acquire a Peruvian boyfriend. Unfortunately, he’s only eight years old and less than half my size. Perhaps the Spongebob Squarepants drawing he used to declare his love for me is indicative of our age difference. My friend Sara returned home the other night to find that her host-brother (my suitor) had left a card for me on the back of her chair. The self-labeled “papel de amor” included instructions for Sara to tell me that he loves me with all of his heart. He is apparently undeterred by the rather significant age difference as the other night he slicked his hair into a ridiculous side-part and bathed in his dad’s cologne to impress me.

As for my progress with the Spanish language, I have determined that my skills lie somewhere far below those typical of a 6 year old. My host-brother Alan is 6 years old and he rarely makes grammatical errors. The other night he made a simple mistake and my family started cracking up. I can only imagine how hard it is for them to keep a straight face while I talk. For example, the other morning my mom was trying to get into my sister’s room but it was locked. She came into my room and asked me for something which I assumed to be the key. So I tried to hand her the key and she looked at me funnily and asked me what I use to brush my teeth. Clearly I responded that I use a tooth brush and tried to hand that to her wondering what on earth she was going to do with it. She still seemed puzzled and asked again what I brush my teeth with. Thus, I handed her my floss figuring that maybe she was going to try to pick my sister’s lock with floss. At the time it made more sense than the toothbrush. Finally I realized, after running out of all possible teeth-brushing accessories, that she was after my toothpaste. But at this point I was still trying to connect brushing teeth to opening my sister’s door so I was kind of concerned about what she was planning to use my toothpaste for. Once I gave it to her she proceeded to put a small dab on her hand. Apparently she just wanted to brush her teeth but the toothpaste was in my sister’s room. It probably would have been easier and certainly faster for her to bust down the door. So much for my supposedly “advanced” Spanish level!

My mom also tried to tell me yesterday that I can not bathe for the next week because she discovered that I´m on my period. She’s convinced that I’ll get sick if I bathe while menstruating. Luckily what Spanish skills I do have came through and I was able to convince her to hand over the water for my bucket bath.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Dirty Feet

Recently we celebrated my host-dad's 43rd birthday. The fiesta took place in our house which was all good except that I think half of Peru was there. Later my host-sister told me that only about 20% of the family was there. We started off the night watching my cousin's quinceanera video which only lasted for oh, about THREE HOURS. Probably about 20 minutes of it were entertaining. Luckily my friend Michelle stopped by randomly to keep me company. My entire extended family probably thinks we're uber-strange because we were somewhat socially ackward. In Peru, as in many other Latin American countries, it is customary to share beer by passing around a bottle and drinking from one communal cup. Someone passes you the bottle and then you use the cup once they are done. However, when one of the señoras offered Michelle and I some beer we accepted the bottle from her and then of course proceeded to pour it into our own cups before realizing we were supposed to wait. Furthermore, I noticed at some point that we were both wearing Chacos which according to our directors is not so normal here. Exactly at this point we also both noticed that Michelle's feet were ridiculously dirty. Seriously, it looked like she hadn't bathed in months. So thinking that someone would take notice Michelle insisted on washing them. I, without thinking, insisted on taking photos of her washing her feet in my bathroom because it was a pretty funny situation. Stupidly, I allowed my host-sister to borrow my camera later that night to take some pictures of the fiesta. What I failed to realized was that everyone and their mother would then proceed to look through all of the pictures, including the pictures of Michelle bathing her feet in the upstairs bathroom. I'm fairly certain they are now convinced that people from the U.S. have some kind of foot fetish. Who randomly washes their feet in the middle of a party?!?

Monday, October 8, 2007

How to deter people from ever reading my blog again…

Today was kind of intense…maybe thought provoking is a better way to put it. I watched a movie about Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) in my Spanish class. The Sendero Luminoso was a Maoist group created in Peru in the 1970’s among the rural population with the goal of generating a completely different vision for Peru. Unfortunately, they relied on violence to accomplish their mission and thousands of innocent people were killed in the process. Government attempts to temper the revolution were likewise violent and the corrupt politics of Alberto Fujimori led to further human rights violations. Anyway, what is more important than the actual details of this period is to think about the impacts that such atrocities can have on a population, on an individual. I don’t think it’s really possible to fathom, but it’s imperative to realize how very real it is and that it does happen. (I would recommend that everyone read “The Little School” by Alicia Partnoy for a better understanding of what I mean. It is one woman’s actual account of life in a detention center during the Dirty War in Argentina.) Furthermore, it is necessary to recognize that genocide and disappearances persist today in various countries around the world. While they may not be happening in our own backyard, other human rights violations probably are. Severe inequalities exist in the U.S. as well.

To follow that up, a couple of people came from the U.S. embassy to give a presentation on the U.S. free trade agreement (TLC) which Peru will most likely sign before too long. Basically, it was exactly what I expected to hear—a stereotypically optimistic, glossed-over spin on free trade. In short, what the TLC will do is encourage more global trade and especially trade between the U.S. and, in this case, Peru. The most annoying part was that the main speaker tried to tell us that the agreement is environmentally friendly. The speaker based his argument on the fact that the TLC will hold Peruvian companies and factories up to U.S. environmental standards. Okay, but since when has the U.S. been a leader in clean production practices? How do you explain the tons of pollutants dumped directly into Lake Michigan by BP all under the guidance of the EPA? Also, is more “development” in the U.S. TLC sense of development really a positive thing? Increasing the number of factories and hotels in Peru doesn’t exactly seem like a smart environmental move. Last time I checked, the U.S. was responsible for more carbon emissions than any other country. Are we a good model for development? If anything, we, who by this point should be aware of massive environmental degradation and global climate change, should be encouraging the purchase of local goods and a reduction of consumption. Do we really need apples from Chile, cotton from Peru and everything else from China? Just maybe, we (as in the U.S.) are pushing for the signing of the TLC because we need it to sustain our own economic system and our own quality of life.

Anyway, I just thought I’d throw out a couple of hugely complex issues for you to ponder! My sister warned some of you that my blogs would turn into ridiculous, overly analytical reflections, so I didn’t want to disappoint.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Bob Esponja and Pogs

I spent part of this afternoon watching “Bob Esponja” with my little brother Alan. I have to say that watching Sponge Bob Squarepants dubbed in Spanish was highly entertaining compared to the other Peruvian television I’ve been subjected to thus far. Soap operas are a big hit, as are eccentric talk shows that may include anything from clowns to people being shot at with paintball guns at close range. My host-dad is a big fan of “La familia Ingels,” otherwise known as “Little House on the Prairie.” It´s kind of like watching it with a constant play-by-play analysis because he seems to have every episode memorized.

Alan is a big fan of pogs. He has 76 of them, which I know because he made me count them. He tried to teach me how to play but I still don’t get it. Alan is 6 years old. As far as I concerned, it appears that you just through one pog at the other pog until the other pog flips over. If you’re Alan, you continue to do this for hours on end, day after day.

Last week I learned a bit more about where I might be heading for the next two years. I now know that I will either be in the dry forest or the cloud forest. I have an inkling that I’ll be heading to the dry forest because it seems that most of the available sites are there. Interestingly enough, I probably won’t be too far from where I did my independent study project in Ecuador. All of the environmental volunteers will be going to one of the following provinces which are all located in the northwest region of Peru: Tumbes, Piura, Cajamarca, La Libertad, or Lambayeque.

And finally, some intriguing facts about Peru:
- The potato originated in Peru. There are more than 3000 different varieties.
- The two deepest canons on earth are located in Peru: Cotahuasi and Colca.
- The largest river in the world, the Amazon River, originates in Peru.
- The highest navigable lake in the world, Lake Titicaca, is located in Peru at 3,812 m.
- Peru has more species of birds, orchids, butterflies, and fish than any other country. Peru has 1816 bird species, more than what is found on the continents of North America and Europe together. It contains the second largest diversity of primates and the 3 largest number of mammal species.
- Of the 107 different biomes that have been identified, Peru contains 84.

Monday, September 24, 2007

First weeks in Peru

I’ve been gone for about a week and a half, but it seems like months. I left on the 12th of September to report for a pre-service staging event in D.C. It only lasted for two days and basically consisted of getting to know the other trainees and being inundated with needlessly repetitive information. In all, there are 38 trainees (I think), half of which are health volunteers and half of which are environment volunteers. All of the trainees live with a homestay family and are spread out among four different communities. Currently we are living in the outskirts of Lima in the foothills of the Andes. Here they call them hills but I’m pretty sure they’d be classified as peaks in Illinois.

Last night a bunch of volunteers met up in the “Tres,” one of the communities housing trainees, for a fiesta. It was actually the community’s annual celebration so it was a pretty big event, with traditional music and dancing, lots of beer, and fireworks. I’m sure that sounds pretty typical but that’s because you’re probably picturing normal fireworks. Apparently the Peruvians do things a bit differently which I should have guessed when they started talking about “toritos locos.” Basically, they construct makeshift bulls, plaster them with fireworks, insert a drunken man, and light the fuse. The drunken man, with the bull situated over his head and shoulders, proceeds to run around the crowd, flinging fire and sparks in every direction. Other drunken men in the crowd assure the sane people in the crowd that this is not dangerous.

The biggest news in Peru today appears to be that a young woman was possessed by the devil while using a Ouija board. Never mind that Fujimori was just extradited from Chile…there are more important things going on. My host-mother is now concerned for my soul as I informed her that in the U.S. Ouija is a popular activity at girls’ sleepovers. However, my soul is not the only thing she is worried about. The temperature of my feet also appears to be a source of utmost concern. If I dare step out of my room without socks she begins to fret that I will get sick and basically forces me to put socks on. Of course, going down the stairs requires both socks and shoes. She is also concerned because I apparently can NOT wash clothes by hand. Apparently my inability to apply a sufficient quantity of soap is hilarious. Note that a sufficient quantity means that you should not be able to see what you are washing. After she made me wash one item two times she just took over and started doing it herself…randomly bursting into laughter and making comments to herself about my insufficiencies.

I also just discovered that my host-family’s dog is named Snow. For the past week I’ve been convinced that the dog was called Isnau. I was also convinced that this was a Quechua word for snow because they originally told me that it meant nieve (snow in Spanish). Hence, I’ve been looking like a moron because everytime I’ve encountered the dog I exclaim, “Isnau”. This is clearly not problematic for the Spanish speakers in my family, but I happen to speak English. What’s worse is that when I discovered my blunder and started to call the dog Snow, I was quickly corrected by a visiting relative—“no,no,no, es Isnau”. Thus, I continue to call the dog Isnau while my host-family probably either thinks I’m a jerk because I appear to be mocking them or perhaps a bit slow because I can’t even recognize the word snow.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Pre-departure

No news is good news or so the saying goes. Well, I've got news so you can make of it what you will. I've decided to join the Peace Corps and I leave on September 12th, which is Wednesday...this Wednesday. I received my invitation back in late July, which informed me that I will be heading to Peru for a duration of 27 months to serve as an environmental educator. The description of my duties is so vague that I should probably be concerned. On the 12th I head to Washington, D.C. for what is called a "staging event." Then on the 14th the entire group of trainees flys to Peru for around 3 months of training. During this time I will live with a family and be instructed in the ways of the Peruvian culture, language, current issues, etc.

Anyway, I feel like I've spent eons packing and those in my household would most likely agree. When it comes to packing lightly I'm somewhat fanatical, perhaps OCD. I have an irrational fear of being THAT girl who shows up with way too much stuff. I think the time has come for me to leave, primarily so that I will stop packing.