Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Beware of Unknown Moto-Taxi Drivers

I feel like I should issue a general warning before this entry. If it seems like there is no flow that´s because there is not. It's somewhat spastic. But then again, that's kind of what it's like being a Peace Corps Volunteer.

The last couple of weeks have been tranquilo, in other words tranquil if you need a translation. As usual, they have been filled with their fair share of entertaining happenings. I started English classes and the first Monday nobody came. The second Monday about 12 kids came but they all came in one large dawdling herd, about an hour late. It wasn´t hard to fill up the remaining hour with the alphabet. I found myself explaining things in absurdly preposterous ways. Case in point: While attempting to clarify the pronunciation of the letter G, I actually said that we commonly say, ¨What up, G?¨ as a way to greet people. No we don't, at least not the vast majority of United Statsians. At the very end of the class someone asked me to translate a poster hanging on the wall. Mindlessly, I translated ¨With Jesus we can make a new world!¨ onto the chalkboard and waited while they all scribbled both the translation and the Spanish version into their notebooks. Then it hit me that all of their parents would later be looking at their notebooks and see that I was not only teaching English but simutaneously feeding their children religious propaganda. Ironically, their parents will probably be thrilled.

One morning, for the first time since I arrived, I decided to do some vocabulary flashcards. My host-mom, nearby eating breakfast, looked up suddenly and shrieked, ¨BY GOD, KAREN!¨ I, momentarily baffled by the unprovoked outburst, had to contain my laughter as she proceeded to explain to my visiting Aunt that I contantly study. She apparently thinks that every time I read anything it is all part of my rigorous study schedule. I had no idea. I figured they thought I was just being lazy, but no one reads here so I guess it's considered to be a very intellectual persuit.

On the subject of my host-mom, whenever I do anything to worry her, which is literally just about anything I do, she gives me the same lecture. Oddly enough, this lecture is about moto-taxis and, more often than not, has nothing to do with anything that has provoked the lecture. I could mention that gringos sometimes can´t handle the water in foreign countries and suddenly she is telling me never to get in a moto-taxi driver I don't personally know. That driver will drive me into the middle of nowhere and abandon me. If I'm wearing my good shoes, he might steal them. Justifiably, I used to be really perplexed every time the moto-taxi subject popped up in the midst of a seemingly unrelated topic.

There is one moto-taxi driver that has a very obvious crush on me. It's more annoying than anything. Every time I get in he asks me something suggestive such as, ¨What kind of music do you like? Romantic music? Then he proceeds to ask more equally ridiculous questions, all the while driving half-speed, prolonging our precious time together. What joy.

I've started walking to places by myself more frequently. As a result, I've been arriving to meetings way too early. By that I mean that I arrive 5 minutes early and the locals arrive 35 minutes later. It is standard to come 30 minutes late. The reason I continue to arrive early is only partially due to my ingrained U.S. concept of timeliness. It is not due to an internal desire to spend more awkward time than necessary staring silently at the one other person that also bothered to arrived on time. More than anything, I'm so punctual because trips which I previously thought required at least 15 minutes now require a mere 2. I thought we were walking slowly but I had no idea just how slowly.

I called someone Tio Lonche, which translates to Uncle Small Dinner. My family won't let that one drop. I don't blame them. I also asked my sister if she thought she was going to rain.

In the same day, one person asked me if my host-sister was my daughter and another person asked me if my mother was Peruvian. I'm not sure what's bringing about the sudden confusion but I'm fairly certain I don't look anymore Peruvian than when I arrived.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Integration and English Translation

Integration:

In general I feel like this week has been a good one as far as integration goes. Life is starting to feel a little bit more normal and I feel like I’m gaining a little bit more control. The woman next store called me over just to chat the other evening. I also went swimming in the town “pool” with the other locals. This pool is roughly the size of a baby pool and is actually the well where they get water for their crops. Approximately half of the pool is occupied by a large tube blasting seemingly wasteful amounts of water into the other half. Furthermore, I managed to actually cook dinner. Previously I considered adding a bit of spinach to my nightly eggs to be a major culinary achievement. This week I prepared spinach soup and pasta with tomatoes. Most importantly, I was allowed to walk to the store by myself. Why they consider this journey to be so difficult still baffles me. My mom commented to my sister that I now know the way. I’m not sure when it was that I didn’t know the way—it’s a straight shot 400 meters down the only road in town. Getting lost would be more of an achievement.

Now for some funny English translations:


From a restaurant menu:
Fish at male
Jelly of Fish: little pieces of breaded fish sprayed with a special onion sauce
Fish Crackling
Chicken to the coal
Leaped noodle of chicken or beef
Boneless kid
Kid with rice and beans
Loin skewer: juice thin beef pieces and vegetales cooked to the grill
Loin to the cracklin
Alfredo noodles: Spaguettis sprayed with a white cream sauce mad of jam, cheese, and milkcream
Milk: exquisite fresh milk very hot
Tea: shrub of the Far East with a pleasant flavor

Unfortunately for the restaurant, all of these translations were indeed found on the same menu. Gherkin also appeared more than once. Apparently gherkin is an acceptable English word for cucumber, which I previously did not know.

From a shirt: (not necessarily a translation but nonetheless amusing)
“Boys are loser. Throw rocks at them.”

Pick-up line:
“Hello, Mister!” (pronounced Heylow me-stair)

I have received this pick-up line more than once. If you ask me it lacks anything approaching flattery.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Random Peruvian Quirks That I Find Amusing

Bras as storage centers: It didn’t take me long to notice that the bras in Peru are different. Not only do they appear to provide a complete lack of support and shape, but they also seem to have the strange ability to create unpleasant distortions. However, do not despair; the women of Peru have discovered a practical use for their bras. They use them to hold pretty much anything you can imagine. No joke, I’ve seen women whip out everything from cell phones to coin purses.

Tupperwear: Plastic containers are highly sought after and once obtained they are considered to be precious commodities. Here they are known as Tuppers. I would venture to say that a typical Peruvian mother knows her Tuppers about as well as she knows her own children. I didn’t think this was that strange until I recently spotted a Tupper booth at the local fair. By this I mean to say that rather than winning the typical obnoxiously large stuffed animal you could be so lucky as to walk away with a brand-new Tupper.

Free calendars: Around the holidays businesses start handing out free calendars to their customers with a purchase. This sounds harmless enough but no one is satisfied with just one calendar. In fact, one calendar appears to be highly insufficient. In my house alone we currently have seven 2008 calendars, all of them displayed proudly on the walls. These are mixed in with a few 2007 calendars which apparently aren’t coming down. People keep track of what businesses should be handing out calendars to avoid the dreadful misfortune of not receiving as many calendars as possible. My host-mom insists that she is still owed a calendar by the shoe shop and I imagine she’ll get that calendar one way or another. I should also mention that these calendars are large and require a fair amount of wall space. They depict lovely images such as parrots, fish, gringo babies, and Jesus.

Gringo babies: It has been my experience here in Perú that the gringo baby is one of the lovelier images one can behold. In fact, I have been to more than a few houses with framed posters of gringo babies hanging on the wall. Typically, they have earned a prominent position adjacent to the requisite bad copy of The Last Supper.

Monday, January 7, 2008

Pictures!

I finally loaded my pictures of my first months in Peru onto the web. For those of you who would like to see them I have put a link on my blog. I believe I may have loaded them up onto the Spanish version of the website so you may encounter a serious lack of English. My apologies.

Poco a poco...

Since the holidays life has been progressing fairly slowly here at site. I’m not complaining as I’ve had time to read a few good books. From what I gather, most PC volunteers occupy a fair amount of their time reading and it’s not uncommon to read triple digit numbers of books during two years of service. Surprisingly enough, having tons of free time on my hands is somewhat stressful. I always feel like I should be doing something and I am always conscious that people might think I’m just chilling. Oh well, poco a poco.

Poco a poco is a commonly used phrase that means “little by little” and I try to slip it into nearly every conversation so as to subtly convey the idea that what I’m doing requires LOTS of time. I figure if I use it frequently enough they’ll start to understand. In fact, I use it almost as much as I use "aah yah", the general filler which literally means anything you want it to. I find I can get through nearly any conversation with just these two phrases. Perhaps this is where they’re getting the idea that I still haven’t dominated the Spanish language.

Continuing with the poco a poco theme, I think one of my counterparts straight up doesn’t get it. I met with him the other day for the second time and thinking we’d discuss general matters and such was out of the question. First of all, he asked me what projects I’d already started. Clearly I haven’t gotten anything off the ground yet and so I figured I’d ask what he had in mind. He got even more serious than he already was, looked me straight in the eyes and said, “We’re thinking we’d like a mill, an algorrobo mill.” My response: “A big mill…like a factory?” Him: “Yep, a big one.” I managed to maintain a straight face and asked if he was considering any other projects. Indeed, they’d also like a health post. I dropped the subject after that; fearful of what else he had in mind. I’ll say this much, “construct factory” certainly hadn’t made it onto my list of things to do and, as for the health post, I was thinking more along the lines of hand-washing talks.

Some typical Peruvian customs that will probably not change, not even poco a poco:
- Straight MSG added to all Peruvian dishes that taste good (disguised as a Chinese product called Ajinomoto). No joke, there is a fairly large section of every grocery store dedicated solely to pure MSG.
- Peruvians of nearly every socio-economic level appear to shop at the same clothing store. This may support equality but is NOT a good thing. For those lucky few of you who have participated in the Monticello Freedom celebration, you may be able to formulate an accurate picture.
- Throwing caution to the wind with very young children—they give them knives, send them on seemingly grown-up errands, and allow them to walk alone across town.
- Not throwing caution to the wind when traveling outside of your home base, especially alone. Within this base, everyone and everything is undoubtedly tranquil and harmless. Outside of this ridiculously small area, everyone and everything is undoubtedly evil and will try to kill or rob you. Recently I was told to watch my shoes, because they, as in anyone who I don’t know, may, and most likely will, steal them off of my feet.

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

!Feliz Navidad y Año Nuevo!

Well, this is officially the first Christmas I have spent away from home. Due primarily to the hot weather, and of course the absence of loved ones, it doesn’t feel much like the Holidays. I think one of the things I will miss the most while I’m here are the seasons. They claim they have them but I don’t think that a 10 degree fluctuation in temperature and a slight increase in precipitation counts.

If I gained weight this holiday season it will have resulted solely from an astonishing consumption of hot chocolate. For the past two weeks I have been drinking it for both breakfast and dinner. Add that to the 7 chocolatadas I have attended in the past 3 days and you have around 40 cups of hot chocolate. A chocolatada is a Christmas party held primarily for children in which large quantities of hot chocolate, panettone and/or empanadas are served. Within my tiny town/settlement every organization has held a chocolatada with seemingly little to no coordination among them. Thus, both the Saturday and Sunday before Christmas were passed with 3 chocolatadas per day, one at 3, the next at 4, and the final one at 5.

There are times here when I feel like I’m living in the midst of a Bill Bryson or perhaps David Sedaris collection of short stories. Actually, it’s pretty much all of the time. I’ve decided that this is due solely to my own personal sense of humor, a sense of humor which I may share with many of my friends and family but which does not appear to transfer smoothly into Peruvian culture. Thus, I frequently find myself laughing at what must be horribly inappropriate moments. For example, I laughed when I was handed the 3 L bottle of chicha. And I laughed the other day when I accidentally threw a rambunctious 2 year old over my shoulder into the midst of a mother’s meeting because he was holding on for dear life to a mouthful of my hair and wouldn’t let go. Of course the mother’s were all paying attention to the meeting and are probably still wondering what provoked me to fling the child aggressively into the dirt.

My recent visit to the municipality also made me laugh despite the fact that I know I should have been experiencing feelings of extreme mortification. It was basically a dreadful scene. First, for the duration of the incident I lost all abilities to form coherent sentences or even bursts of logical Spanish. Upon entering, I was met by a random man who told me that he could help me as the mayor was in a meeting. Thinking that he was just some random man I proceeded to get confused and rather than politely and logically asking him who he was I popped my head into the secretary’s office and asked her who he was. Yes, he was still standing right there. It turns out he’s second-in-line to the mayor so I most definitely offended him. Furthermore, on my written request for paint I spelled the mayor’s name incorrectly. Rather than Felix Gil Mayanga I had written (in all caps of course) FELIX JILMA YANGA. So much for my attempt at maintaining an air of professionalism!

Note: My friend Susan was recently gifted a ginormous double headed cauliflower while attempting to exercise at her site.