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.