Noodles can look like worms to the untrained eye. So can onions and bean sprouts. Months ago I thought I encountered a parasite in my stool only to discover that it was actually an onion. This past weekend I was so convinced that I had discovered a worm floating in the toilet bowl that I actually removed it and showed it to my friends Val and Susan. In fact, I was so convinced that I took the worm all the way to the hospital in my pocket to have it examined in the laboratory. The man in the lab was extremely professional but his first question was, “Have you eaten chifa (chinese food) recently? Of course I had eaten chifa the day before. Regardless, he examined my “worm” under the microscope and confirmed that the worm was indeed a noodle. Yes, a noodle.
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I’ve recently spotted some more catchy T-shirt phrases.
Greenish Kansas Kids
WOW! You have nine babies! Chick
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Since January, Susan and I have been working on a solid waste management diagnostic of Pacora. Amazingly, the endeavour is actually going well. Honestly, I’m amazed it’s even going. We have formed a committee which is formally named the “Comité de Apoyo al Manejo Sostenible de Residuos Sólidos del Distrito de Pacora.” The name is a bit cumbersome in my opinion but typical of Peruvian titles. I’m just surprised it hasn’t yet been given an equally absurd acronym, another common Peruvian practice. For example, COAPMASOREDIPA would be a viable option.
The committee, consisting of 5 local representatives, includes the director of the health post, the president of the women’s association, the president of the beekeeper’s association, a high school teacher, and a city council member. A couple of our meetings have been canceled and the majority still does not arrive on time, but I think we are making strides. Besides the committee, numerous local citizens have been attending and support seems to be growing.
As part of the waste diagnostic we organized a group of people to do household surveys. We divided Pacora into zones and assigned a couple of people to each zone. Susan prepared very clear maps so that they could easily orient themselves and figure out exactly which houses they were to survey. Now, I should not make sweeping generalizations but, from our experience it appears that Peruvians from Pacora can not read maps. Pacora is not even that big – it has something like 10 streets – but we had to explain the maps to every single person. For example, one seemingly capable committee member appeared to understand his map, but as Susan was doing her surveys she began to encounter random houses in other zones that he had surveyed. Once we found him wandering through the plaza heading away from his zone on his way to conduct more surveys.
Susan and I also took on our part of the surveys. I forgot how entertaining these can be. In one house I was sat down in a tiny pink children’s chair while the person I was surveying sat across the table from me in a normal sized chair. Other chairs were available. Another woman gave me a huge guava which made surveying the remaining houses awkward. Really, has anyone ever arrived at your house to do a survey with a riduculously large green pod sticking out of her purse? Probably not. At one house I surveyed the woman outside who was selling slushies and cebada, a common local drink made from barley and flavored with sugar and lemon. Several men were sitting around and they all insisted on answering every question that I asked her. One of them invited me to a cebada which I actually like in normal quantities. Unfortunately, this cebada came in pitcher size. The first half was fine, but I actually thought I was going to vomit as I attempted to drink the rest. Concentrating on the questions at hand became difficult because I could only envision how I would explain hurling my cebada all over the place. One teenage boy who had recently returned from Lima could not understand me and I had to repeat EVERY single question. An ancient woman with crazy hair could not see me but still let me into her house. I was moving along at a decent rate before I got to her house. By the time I left I was even privy to the type of canned milk that she uses. I don’t really think she got the point of the survey either. When asked where she disposes of her trash she told me that she sometimes throws her trash over her wall into the neighbors house to get even with them.
On Wednesday we collected the surveys and now we have to compile the data. Next comes a study of waste generation and separation...
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The female volunteer park guards who have been working with me on a tree nursery have reverted to sweeping the forest. I went to the nursery on Tuesday to work and no one was there. It is what it is. I'm not surprised. However, what bothers me is that they are following the instructions of a local "environmental" NGO that is currently doing a project in the buffer zone which requires that the women are sweeping in order to recieve monthly food handouts. Now, I approached one of the NGO workers, a girl my age and supposedly a biology graduate, and told her my thoughts. My thoughts being that sweeping the forest is not only illogical but also hinders soil recuperation. Apparently she didn't comprehend. Furthermore, it really bothers me that the women do not take a proactive role but rather blindly follow the orders of whichever authority figure commands them. It is easy to assume that the women are genuinely interested in conserving the forest because they are volunteer park guards. Not so. They really have never bothered to understand the importance of conserving it. This may be due to a lack of access to education and custom but, partially, it is just apathy.
My sister, Kelly, at Colca Canyon, Arequipa.
