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.

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.

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!