October 12, 2005
Today is recoup day. I’ve slept in and my host mom brought my medicine and offered to entertain Kanela on the patio. My teeth are still numb and my eye, even more purple. I took off all the bandaging and cleaned it all very well with alcohol pads. The cut right below my eyebrow, which lines up perfectly with a scar from my childhood, is about an inch in length. One end is very thin, the other is open and red. I imagine if I had been anywhere but the Andes of Peru, they could have put me back together again, a little more esthetically pleasing.
October 11, 2005
Watch out for manholes, especially those without a cover! I took Kanela on our usual walk this morning while simultaneously looking for the Way Inn. Since our trek had been cancelled for rain, my friends and I thought we would go to the Way Inn Lodge about an hour from Huaraz and get in some day hikes to the lakes there.
I’m looking toward the tops of the buildings, trying to locate this hostel, and the next thing I know I’m being pulled from a huge hole by a little Quechua woman. She’s insisting that I stand up and all I want to do is sit down. I saw that my shirt was covered with blood and my face felt like it had been hit with a sledge hammer. Four other Peruvian men came to my aid and insisted that I go to the hospital. I saw my reflection in the car’s window and tried not to overreact; blood was escaping from every orifice. I had them take me to my house instead, but my host mother wasn’t there. I called my closest PCV buddy and while I waited for him to arrive, I sat and cried and wished with all my heart that I was at home in Georgia.
Thinking I might want to pull myself together, I washed the blood from my face, arms, and legs to examine the damage. My face obviously took the brunt of my fall. I had a cut below my eyebrow that was deep and bleeding profusely, plus nasty scrapes on both legs and arms. Two of my friends arrived and helped me to the hospital where I was examined by a “neurosurgeon” and x-rayed. They pressed on my face, checked my vitals, and glued my cut together, without so much as an Advil. Nothing a little makeup can’t cover, the doctor assures me as he hands me a pack of pain pills and cream on my way out the door.
I knew I wouldn’t leave this country without a permanent reminder of my experience.
October 10, 2005
Our trek is cancelled for rain, plus my cronies are sick. It just doesn’t seem like I am meant to go on a trek. First a cancellation on the Huayhuash, then this cancellation for the Santa Cruz, it just doesn’t seem to be in my stars.
October 9, 2005
I’m on a mad hunt for rain pants. I’m heading out with a couple other PCVs on the Santa Cruz trek, a four day hiking and camping venture. I splurged on a new fleece and socks at the Tattoo store. My search for pants ended with a pair of bamba or fake ones found on the second floor of a rickety building in downtown. I stock up on dried fruits, nuts, and granola. My backpack is as efficiently and concisely packed as I could manage.
October 8, 2205
Huari, the site of another PCV, is having its annual Cat Festival this weekend. Thinking it would be fun to head there to eat some feline, a group of PCVs and I headed to the Callejon de Canchucos. The five hour ride ended up taking close to ten after a huge tractor trailer stalled and blocked the road. We entertained ourselves with word games, work conversations, and stories of our pasts. I was wishing that I had stayed in Huaraz when I became ill.
We finally pull into Huari around midnight to see crazy-drunk Peruvian men dancing around the town plaza. Huge floats with religious structures and statues were set up on the periphery and tall totems with streamers loomed the skyline. Since I was rather sick, I found my bed and quickly dozed away my bug.
In the morning, we found a hole-in-the-wall place for breakfast and I emailed the PC doctor. He reasoned that I had bacteria in my belly and said I should start on Cipro immediately. For the day’s excitement, we rented two taxis to take us to a lake just above town. Our taxi overheated and we chilled the car and ourselves on the dirt road for a while, eventually making it to the lake. Quite gorgeous and very pristine, we walked around and took a few photos.
At 3:00 pm, we boarded the same bus to take us back to Huaraz. The ride went much smoother until our bus began smoking from the underside. Stopping to examine the problems, we discovered the mountains covered in snow. The Gringos entertained the rest of the folks on the bus by building a snowman.
October 1, 2005
For the last week, I have been entertaining my friends and family from home. It’s been a remarkably entertaining time for both me and for them, I think. We started out the week with a couple of days in Lima, where we visited the historic downtown. There we saw the Presidential Palace and the Cathedral. My brother was most impressed with the inexpensive prices and proceeded to do some abundant shopping. Mom was on a mad hunt for silver jewelry. In the right place since this country prides itself on the gold and silver mining; she made quite a dent in the supply. We ate at McDonald’s for lunch and then met my favorite Embassy host family for dinner.
The bus ride to Huaraz and to my site was just less than comfortable. Mom said that my house “isn’t as nice as your place in Trujillo.” After meeting my host mother, she saw that some things are more important than modern amenities. My two moms found that although they didn’t speak the same language, that they were alike in their love and concern for their daughters.
Wanting to show my guests a true Peruvian experience, I planned a night’s stay in little town of Vicos. The two hour hike up to our host’s house almost did-in everyone. In Vicos, after we settled into our little humble lodge and inspected the latrine and lack of electricity, we learned to bake bread and make Pachamanca. There were plenty of laughs and surprises as we watched the lives of campesino Peruvians. We drank fresh corn juice, sampled sweet squash pudding and enjoyed our own wheat bread. The hike down was almost more treacherous than the ascent, but the views of the nevadas were incredible.
We splurged on a taxi into Huaraz and quickly crashed at my little apartment. My brother was literally shocked in the shower; I forgot to mention not to touch the wires around the showerhead. We readied ourselves and enjoyed apple bombas before our trip back to Lima.
In Lima, we did even more shopping and were treated to a VIP trip to the US Embassy. We visited the Peace Corps artisan fair where my family met my bosses and colleagues. The new Long Horn Steakhouse at the mall provided us with a spectacular meal of divine steaks and iced Coca-Cola’s.
The send-off was less difficult than I anticipated it would be, maybe because I didn’t go to the airport with them. My taxi ride to my host family was lonely and I couldn’t believe how fast the trip had gone. I was, however, comforted by the knowledge that I would be home in time for Christmas.
September 11, 2005
An anniversary, quite depressingly traumatic in its remembrance, is going on at home. There’s nothing much going on here in Huaraz, on a lazy Sunday morning except cleaning up and organizing. I did go for a bike ride that was quite wonderful in its intensity, nothing like the burn of exertion.
It hit me today that I feel so “normal” here. I no longer feel as if I’m in another country in another culture. I’m the Gringa living in a small Peruvian mountain town and it almost feels like I have been here forever. When we were in training, they told us this would happen in our last year. It’s so true. I can see now how the transition home is going to be hard. To get used to American culture, the efficiency, the rat race. It’s really kind of scary. I see why there are so many ex-pats that have settled here in Huaraz to make their homes. There is something about this little town, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I like it.
September 10, 2005
Standing in line the other day at the bus station, I almost got my rear beat up by a couple of Europeans. They asked a thousand questions to the attendant and while they were conferring between themselves, I quickly handed my sheet of paper with my family’s passport numbers to the attendant. A total of ten bus tickets, at a couple of minutes a piece, meant that the attendant was occupied with me for quite a while. The European rudely said to me, “If you were buying so many tickets, why did you skip line?” In the states and in Europe I am sure that my actions were worthy of his comments, but here forming a line and waiting patiently just doesn’t happen. I realized I had done something so completely Peruvian. I held myself back from saying “When in Rome…”
September 8, 2005
I visited another PCV’s site today in a little town called Vicos. As a business volunteer, he is working on a Cultural Tourism project where tourists go to the campo and work and live like a traditional farming Peruvian. I found his host family to be very welcoming and conversational. They invited me to help sort through thousands of corn kernels that they were going to be planted on the next day. His host family is going to be my family’s hosts for a night when they visit in a couple of weeks. Since we’ve already been to Machupicchu, I thought that a typical mountain experience was next on their adventure list.
September 6, 2005
Let’s pray my new hair do comes out ok. Except for that purple sheen, I’m emotionally renewed. There’s just nothing like going to a salon and having your hair done.
September 3, 2005
Along with a couple of Aussies, three Brits, an Israeli, some Ex-Pat Americans, and four others PCVs, I headed to a field just outside of town for a game of Ultimate Frisbee. It was magnificent with the Andes behind us, the valley of Huaraz below us, and the sun bright above. Sprinting and chasing a flying disc never felt so good.
September 1, 2005
I am waiting for my dog-sitter/PC friend in her site of Buenos Aires with a thousand eyes on me, the neighbors, the chickens, and the pigs. Kanela has had a campo experience and seems to have loved it. We hiked out and enjoyed the mountains scenes, the river, and the sunshine.
August 27, 2005
I had my first big introduction and presentation at a new orphanage. First thing they wanted me to do was sing for them the song from Titanic and later our national anthem. They were extremely welcoming and I spoke at length about my role and my background. We played volleyball and I answered the normal questions.
I am now performing with five other PCVs in a Gringos Saludables or Healthy Gringos socio-drama about self-esteem. We had a working lunch where we joked and laughed and actually got a first-rate script drafted. It is so great to have opportunities to work with other PCVs. I never had these opportunities in Trujillo.
August 26, 2005
*Things I really miss from home…
*Shopping for cutesy, trendy things I don’t need
*Driving in my car across Unicoi with the window down and the music blaring
*Enjoying drinks at the Haufbrau house with Mom and her friends
*Playing summer softball at the Park and Rec
*Strolling through Helen like a tourist
*Browsing my favorite sections at the public library and walking out with an armful of books on CD
*Mexican cheese dip, Texas fajitas, and a tall Margarita on the rocks
*Family Dollar, Dollar Tree, Fred’s, and Everything’s Just a Dollar
*Going down every aisle at Wal-Mart
*Huddle House’s bottomless coffee
*Zaxby’s wimpy sauce
*Angela’s sweet tea
*Watching high school basketball games
*Darla’s low-lights, high-lights, and a trim
*Catching the late movie
*Scavenging for treasures in thrift stores
*Old Navy and Gap sales racks
*Starbuck’s decaf, low-fat, sugar-free French Vanilla Cappuccino
*Victoria’s Secret
*Zoey
*Mom, Chad, Daddy & Sherry, Coley, all of my family
*Bryant’s prime rib
*Crossroad’s fried shrimp
*Daniel’s fried chicken and mashed potatoes
*Driving through town and waving at least five people I know
*The $2 store
*Vickie’s biscuits and gravy
*Bathtubs, lots of hot water, a good razor, and a romance novel
*Linda’s pot roast
*Mayfield whole milk by the gallon jug
*Splenda and low-carb everything
*Mall of Georgia
*Riding down GA 400
*O’Charlies’ fresh buttered yeast rolls
*Oreo McFlurries
*Visiting my buddies, chilling, and doing absolutely nothing
*Sitting on Grandmama’s front porch or at the kitchen table
*Piling together in Ma’s living room
*Chatting like sisters with Keisha
*Baby-sitting my little cousins
*Hanging in comfortable silence with my little brother
*Talking about everything with Amy and Cynthia
*Shanghai with Sherry and our friends and family
*Having a cell phone that works
*Washing my clothes in a washer and dryer with Tide and Snuggle
*Sitting on Mom’s front deck, eating a meal prepared from what we found in the fridge
*Sleeping with the heat on, sleeping with the AC on
*Running the washer, the dryer, the heat, the dish washer, the TV, the computer, the curling iron, the air freshener, three lamps, the porch light, the refrigerator, and the microwave all at the same time.
*Parking my car, basking in sunlight, and just soaking up life
*Watching fireworks in Helen
*Grilling steaks, baking potatoes, and tossing fresh salad with Ranch dressing
*Riding on the lake with Daddy
*Midnight trips to Wal-Mart with Sherry
*Watching a good teenaged movie with Coley
*Dinner with Mom and Chad at a nice restaurant
*Nacoochee Grill Birthday Bashes
*Spending the night with Mandy, just like old times
*Shopping or hanging by the pool with Selena
*Locker-room peps talks during a hard, close game
*Sitting on the bed with Grandmama
*Riding to Blue Ridge with Gina
*Going to lunch with Amy, Cynthia, and Jim
*Jim Wood in concert
*Diet Mt. Dew, Diet Dr. Pepper, and Diet Cherry Coke
*Running steps at the Fair Grounds
*Using my debit card to pay for everything
*Driving around Bell Creek in the summertime
*Bell Scene, Shoal Creek, and Cornerstone Baptist Church
*The view of the valley just as you crest over Young Harris Mountain
*Strolling down Airline Road or Red Fox Farm Road
*Walking barefoot in the house
*Plugging something in and not seeing sparks nor getting shocked
*Making a real salary
*Watching the newest episodes of reality TV
*Daily showers with lots of great bath products from which to choose
*CMT, VH1, and MTV
*Knowing that I can visit whomever I choose when the urge hits
August 23, 2005
Kanela had a close call when a dog attacked her on our hike, then she ran in front of a car trying to get away.
I’m cold turkey on caffeine and not doing so well.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Manholes!
Monday, August 22, 2005
Jungle Trip
August 20, 2005
Kanela and I took a long hike this morning then I headed to Café Andino for a game of scrabble with another PCV. I had my usual scrabbled egg whites and broccoli with tofu and my first Chia tea. It was a spectacular breakfast.
I’ve been thinking for days that I would try my hand at some homemade veggie soup. With it being cold here at night and fresh vegetables at my fingertips, there’s no reason not to. After tossing in every bean, vegetable, and spice that I could find in the kitchen and 3 good hours on the stove, I have to say it was quite tasty. I invited some other PCVs over to enjoy and we all sat around in my host family’s kitchen eating soup and drinking wine. It was a really great time.
August 17, 2005
I just spent 3 days in Lima working on the PCV newsletter; we found the previous file corrupted, so that means we are starting from scratch. We’ll have to come back into Lima in a couple of weeks to finish it all up. I stayed with a really neat Embassy family. Having been PCVs in the Dominican Republic, they understood exactly the experience that I have here in Peru.
August 12, 2005
The trainees and I decided it would be nice to get out of Huaraz for a while, so we rented a taxi and drove up the Callejon (valley) to Carhuaz and Campo Santo. In Carhuaz, we sampled the famous ice cream. It does hold its own. It was very tasty, just like the homemade stuff I remember at home in Georgia. We visited Campo Santo, a site that is now essentially a grave yard in memory of the old town of Jungay that was totally destroyed by an earthquake and avalanche 30 years ago. They only thing that survived the natural disaster was the statue of Jesus and a church. You can see partial houses sticking out of the ground and demolished buses on their sides. Many families have placed markers of their lost ones; it has the most eerie feeling as you walk the grounds.
August 11, 2005
With my trainees, we headed to Canchacuta. Seems the community is getting used to gringos. I think the trainees had some problems with the altitude on the hike in and out of the community. We were lucky on our way out this time and found a car heading into Huaraz, so we had a relatively comfortable ride back into town.
August 10, 2005
I was up at 4:30 this morning to welcome the new trainees to Huaraz. There will be 9 new volunteers placed here in September and they’ve made their way here to see what being a volunteer in all about. I will have 2 trainees shadowing me for a couple of days.
August 4, 2005
I finally made it back to Huaraz all in one piece, with several mosquito bites and a pretty good tan. This was quite possibly the best vacation I have even taken.
August 1, 2005
Wanting to see what the region had to offer, we flagged down what we thought was a taxi in hopes of getting a ride to some waterfalls. What we found was a Lima guy on vacation who agreed to give us a ride if we could pick up his cousin (the local) first. The guys proved to be like all Peruvians and were full of questions and flirts for the girls.
We found the waterfalls to be spectacular. We even jumped from the cliff into the lagoon below. It felt like I reading some travel documentary, but in actuality it was me experiencing it all for myself. I had never imagined myself swimming in a river in the heart of the Amazon Jungle.
The Peruvians were pretty excited to show us more of Tarapoto, so we headed to a lake where we could relax in the water on old tire enter tubes, as monkeys and sloths hung out on the banks. I even jumped off of the old rickety wooden ‘diving’ board.
To finish off a spectacular day, we decided to see what the dance scenes had to offer. Meeting back up with our tour guides, we danced salsa and meringue until the wee hours.
July 31, 2005
We got a ride to Pedro Luis, 2 hours from Chachapoyas, where we found a taxi that would take us all the way to Moyabamba, 5 hours away. So, all 7 of us piled into a station wagon and entered the lushness of the Amazonian Jungle. Finally, we had found sweltering heat, greenery, and sunshine. In Moyabamba, we got on yet another bus, 3 hours this time to bring us to our final destination of Tarapoto.
Oh, Tarapoto, what a marvelous town! The streets were zooming with moto-taxis and motorcycles. All of the locals walked around in their shorts, tanks, and flip-flops. We settled into a cute little hostel and met up with some other PCVs that had taken the easy way to Tarapoto, a 24-hour-one-bus route. I still think our way had been much more fun.
July 30, 2005
Arrival in Tingo was at 3:00 am in the morning. We didn’t have a clue where to stay so we started out aimlessly down the dirt road. Finding a police station, the sleeping cop pointed us to a hostel. After pounding on the door for what I know was 30 minutes, the señora sleepily let us in and we found a bed, if not too clean nor warm, at least sleepable. All this commotion just to see the famous ruins of Kuelap. After 4 hours of sleep, we crawled out of the hostel to get a free ride (3 hour day bus) halfway up to Kuelap. We were let out at a cute little house and were welcomed in by a tobacco-chewing Virginian. Having worked supporting tourism in Kuelap during his summer breaks for over 30 years, he was a wealth of information. We hitchhiked the rest of the way by waving down a university group on tour from Chachapoyas. They were a whole lot of fun and we ended up staying with them for the rest of the day and trip. They even gave us a ride into the next city on our route, Chachapoyas. In Chachapoyas, again we crashed in a cheap hostel and had the best fried chicken I’ve found in Peru on a terrace restaurant just off the plaza.
July 29, 2005
We bussed another 22 hours to Tingo. What can I say? It was pretty miserable -- a tiny bus, lots of dust, from hot to cold, to cold to hot, filled with a hodgepodge of travelers. We had two flat tires along the way, but it was a nice break from the uncomfortable seats and we could stretch our legs. I slept, listened to music, and prayed the bus would stay on the donkey trail of a road. It might have been the best scenery of my life. You could see lush mountains and deep gorges that stretched into a horizon that looks like it could go on forever.
July 28, 2005
Seven of us in total, boarded a bus to Celedin (6 hour day bus) at 9:00 am. What an awful road! The driver even had to ask the local farmers for directions. The views were terrific.
Celedin was nice, quaint, and friendly. We had some pretty bad food and stayed in a sad, little hostel. There were fireworks in honor of Peru’s Independence Day. A bit dangerous, since they set them off so close to the crowds, but fun, and a different taste of life in the Andes Mountains. If I really sit and think about it, we are so far removed from life, as I usually know it. I am over 24 hours away from Lima, the closest city of “civilization”, and 8 more hours by plane, to my home country. This trip has certainly helped me to clear my mind of some of the negativity I had been picking up of late in Huaraz. It’s reminded me of some of the reasons I joined PC in the first place – to travel, to see the world, learn more about others. I am definitely doing that right now. It seems so surreal, when I think back to my life at home and what my friends and family are doing there. I am so far from their realities. It’s also been great for me to share stories with my travel mates as well. Even if we are from all over the states, I find we are really all cut from the same mold.
July 27, 2005
In Cajamarca, we have met up with several other PCVs. This is the first time I have traveled with this many people. I had forgotten how it can get hairy at times when you travel together. You see other’s quirks unlike you see them when you just hang out together.
I am definitely glad to be out of Huaraz. I had needed this break. It feels good to be traveling with just a backpack, not worried about appearance, cleanliness, just having a good time. I can’t believe I didn’t bring my hairdryer or makeup. I have one pair of shoes and one pair of flip-flops. I have to do this more – see more of what Peru really has to offer. It’s so easy to just go, to hop on a bus, to see something new.
I am always such a sucker for woven hand bags. I had to buy a couple and order a ‘special-made’ one to pick up tomorrow. They were great; shopping always makes me happy.
We went to the famous Baños del Inca just outside of Cajamarca this afternoon, the site where the Inca himself bathed centuries ago. It was a worthwhile experience. I bathed in natural hot springs that are channeled into to small, personal pools. I also treated myself to a half-hour massage. The baths are cool because you can see the water boiling right out of the ground at 71 degrees Celsius.
July 25, 2005
Today was the beginning of my much anticipated “Jungle Trip”. Two other PCVs and I traveled to Trujillo (an 8 hour night bus), since the next bus to Cajamarca wasn’t until later that night, we just hung out in town for the day. It was odd to be back in my old stomping grounds. I got that lonely/nervous feeling in my gut, the one I used to have daily and it was a good reminder that Huaraz is so much better for me. However, I have missed the amenities of the city, my bike club, my host family, and the grocery stores.
Ok, so now it’s time for another night bus to Cajamarca. We have 2 nights in a row on buses, no bathing. My clothes still look suitably clean.
Kanela and I took a long hike this morning then I headed to Café Andino for a game of scrabble with another PCV. I had my usual scrabbled egg whites and broccoli with tofu and my first Chia tea. It was a spectacular breakfast.
I’ve been thinking for days that I would try my hand at some homemade veggie soup. With it being cold here at night and fresh vegetables at my fingertips, there’s no reason not to. After tossing in every bean, vegetable, and spice that I could find in the kitchen and 3 good hours on the stove, I have to say it was quite tasty. I invited some other PCVs over to enjoy and we all sat around in my host family’s kitchen eating soup and drinking wine. It was a really great time.
August 17, 2005
I just spent 3 days in Lima working on the PCV newsletter; we found the previous file corrupted, so that means we are starting from scratch. We’ll have to come back into Lima in a couple of weeks to finish it all up. I stayed with a really neat Embassy family. Having been PCVs in the Dominican Republic, they understood exactly the experience that I have here in Peru.
August 12, 2005
The trainees and I decided it would be nice to get out of Huaraz for a while, so we rented a taxi and drove up the Callejon (valley) to Carhuaz and Campo Santo. In Carhuaz, we sampled the famous ice cream. It does hold its own. It was very tasty, just like the homemade stuff I remember at home in Georgia. We visited Campo Santo, a site that is now essentially a grave yard in memory of the old town of Jungay that was totally destroyed by an earthquake and avalanche 30 years ago. They only thing that survived the natural disaster was the statue of Jesus and a church. You can see partial houses sticking out of the ground and demolished buses on their sides. Many families have placed markers of their lost ones; it has the most eerie feeling as you walk the grounds.
August 11, 2005
With my trainees, we headed to Canchacuta. Seems the community is getting used to gringos. I think the trainees had some problems with the altitude on the hike in and out of the community. We were lucky on our way out this time and found a car heading into Huaraz, so we had a relatively comfortable ride back into town.
August 10, 2005
I was up at 4:30 this morning to welcome the new trainees to Huaraz. There will be 9 new volunteers placed here in September and they’ve made their way here to see what being a volunteer in all about. I will have 2 trainees shadowing me for a couple of days.
August 4, 2005
I finally made it back to Huaraz all in one piece, with several mosquito bites and a pretty good tan. This was quite possibly the best vacation I have even taken.
August 1, 2005
Wanting to see what the region had to offer, we flagged down what we thought was a taxi in hopes of getting a ride to some waterfalls. What we found was a Lima guy on vacation who agreed to give us a ride if we could pick up his cousin (the local) first. The guys proved to be like all Peruvians and were full of questions and flirts for the girls.
We found the waterfalls to be spectacular. We even jumped from the cliff into the lagoon below. It felt like I reading some travel documentary, but in actuality it was me experiencing it all for myself. I had never imagined myself swimming in a river in the heart of the Amazon Jungle.
The Peruvians were pretty excited to show us more of Tarapoto, so we headed to a lake where we could relax in the water on old tire enter tubes, as monkeys and sloths hung out on the banks. I even jumped off of the old rickety wooden ‘diving’ board.
To finish off a spectacular day, we decided to see what the dance scenes had to offer. Meeting back up with our tour guides, we danced salsa and meringue until the wee hours.
July 31, 2005
We got a ride to Pedro Luis, 2 hours from Chachapoyas, where we found a taxi that would take us all the way to Moyabamba, 5 hours away. So, all 7 of us piled into a station wagon and entered the lushness of the Amazonian Jungle. Finally, we had found sweltering heat, greenery, and sunshine. In Moyabamba, we got on yet another bus, 3 hours this time to bring us to our final destination of Tarapoto.
Oh, Tarapoto, what a marvelous town! The streets were zooming with moto-taxis and motorcycles. All of the locals walked around in their shorts, tanks, and flip-flops. We settled into a cute little hostel and met up with some other PCVs that had taken the easy way to Tarapoto, a 24-hour-one-bus route. I still think our way had been much more fun.
July 30, 2005
Arrival in Tingo was at 3:00 am in the morning. We didn’t have a clue where to stay so we started out aimlessly down the dirt road. Finding a police station, the sleeping cop pointed us to a hostel. After pounding on the door for what I know was 30 minutes, the señora sleepily let us in and we found a bed, if not too clean nor warm, at least sleepable. All this commotion just to see the famous ruins of Kuelap. After 4 hours of sleep, we crawled out of the hostel to get a free ride (3 hour day bus) halfway up to Kuelap. We were let out at a cute little house and were welcomed in by a tobacco-chewing Virginian. Having worked supporting tourism in Kuelap during his summer breaks for over 30 years, he was a wealth of information. We hitchhiked the rest of the way by waving down a university group on tour from Chachapoyas. They were a whole lot of fun and we ended up staying with them for the rest of the day and trip. They even gave us a ride into the next city on our route, Chachapoyas. In Chachapoyas, again we crashed in a cheap hostel and had the best fried chicken I’ve found in Peru on a terrace restaurant just off the plaza.
July 29, 2005
We bussed another 22 hours to Tingo. What can I say? It was pretty miserable -- a tiny bus, lots of dust, from hot to cold, to cold to hot, filled with a hodgepodge of travelers. We had two flat tires along the way, but it was a nice break from the uncomfortable seats and we could stretch our legs. I slept, listened to music, and prayed the bus would stay on the donkey trail of a road. It might have been the best scenery of my life. You could see lush mountains and deep gorges that stretched into a horizon that looks like it could go on forever.
July 28, 2005
Seven of us in total, boarded a bus to Celedin (6 hour day bus) at 9:00 am. What an awful road! The driver even had to ask the local farmers for directions. The views were terrific.
Celedin was nice, quaint, and friendly. We had some pretty bad food and stayed in a sad, little hostel. There were fireworks in honor of Peru’s Independence Day. A bit dangerous, since they set them off so close to the crowds, but fun, and a different taste of life in the Andes Mountains. If I really sit and think about it, we are so far removed from life, as I usually know it. I am over 24 hours away from Lima, the closest city of “civilization”, and 8 more hours by plane, to my home country. This trip has certainly helped me to clear my mind of some of the negativity I had been picking up of late in Huaraz. It’s reminded me of some of the reasons I joined PC in the first place – to travel, to see the world, learn more about others. I am definitely doing that right now. It seems so surreal, when I think back to my life at home and what my friends and family are doing there. I am so far from their realities. It’s also been great for me to share stories with my travel mates as well. Even if we are from all over the states, I find we are really all cut from the same mold.
July 27, 2005
In Cajamarca, we have met up with several other PCVs. This is the first time I have traveled with this many people. I had forgotten how it can get hairy at times when you travel together. You see other’s quirks unlike you see them when you just hang out together.
I am definitely glad to be out of Huaraz. I had needed this break. It feels good to be traveling with just a backpack, not worried about appearance, cleanliness, just having a good time. I can’t believe I didn’t bring my hairdryer or makeup. I have one pair of shoes and one pair of flip-flops. I have to do this more – see more of what Peru really has to offer. It’s so easy to just go, to hop on a bus, to see something new.
I am always such a sucker for woven hand bags. I had to buy a couple and order a ‘special-made’ one to pick up tomorrow. They were great; shopping always makes me happy.
We went to the famous Baños del Inca just outside of Cajamarca this afternoon, the site where the Inca himself bathed centuries ago. It was a worthwhile experience. I bathed in natural hot springs that are channeled into to small, personal pools. I also treated myself to a half-hour massage. The baths are cool because you can see the water boiling right out of the ground at 71 degrees Celsius.
July 25, 2005
Today was the beginning of my much anticipated “Jungle Trip”. Two other PCVs and I traveled to Trujillo (an 8 hour night bus), since the next bus to Cajamarca wasn’t until later that night, we just hung out in town for the day. It was odd to be back in my old stomping grounds. I got that lonely/nervous feeling in my gut, the one I used to have daily and it was a good reminder that Huaraz is so much better for me. However, I have missed the amenities of the city, my bike club, my host family, and the grocery stores.
Ok, so now it’s time for another night bus to Cajamarca. We have 2 nights in a row on buses, no bathing. My clothes still look suitably clean.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Sunday, July 03, 2005
A True Adventure
July 2, 2005
Last night was unexpectedly a lot of fun. I went to the orphanage as usual in the afternoon and found the oldest girls of the house fretting about what to wear to one of their friend's 15th birthday party. Turning 15 is no small feat for a teen here. Her Quinceañera is the equivalent of a coming out party and everyone attends dressed to the nines. So, I helped the girls decide on shoes and dresses and then before I knew it, they were sure I just had to go with them. I tried to dissuade them with my lack of proper attire, but Rosie, the oldest girl of the house, assured me if she went with me to my closet, she could find something appropriate. In my room, Rosie proposed that I wear a pair of red pants, my red knitted poncho, and black heels. Now, I would not have been caught dead in the States in this outfit for I felt like a she-devil headed to a prayer meeting, but here in Peru it did somehow seem appropriate.
Back at the house, I put all the girls' hair in up-does. Seems my long-lost hobby of doing hair was once again coming in handy. In all, I did 7 girls' hair and makeup, plus my own. Around 10:00, we were off. I succumbed to the girls' pressure of taking a taxi so we could all arrive in style. I guess we did make quite a stunning entrance to the party, an entourage of pretty, dark haired young ladies in long gowns and a tall Gringa dressed from head to toe in fire-engine red.
The church where the party was held was very prettily decorated with a big cake, flowers, and streamers. The girls giggled the entire night and worried over the boys, like in any culture, I presume. I actually met some new people, ate corn kernels and cheese on a toothpick, and found myself having a very delightful time.
July 1, 2005
I am trying to get back into the swing of things here in Huaraz after a weekend in Lima. I didn't do so much just finished up my cavity-filling fun, hung out with my boss a bit, and met the new group of trainees. It's so crazy to see how far I have come since my days in Santa Eulalia, when I was a scared to death novice. To think that I am considered a knowledgeable volunteer these days. It seems almost impossible that I have made it this far.
With only 10 months left in my service and many of my months filling up with activities it really makes me consider what I will get myself into after PC. I have been looking into English teaching programs in Spain . Looks like for free room and board you teach English for 3, 6, or 12 months to the children of a host family. You are guaranteed 3 days off a week. This seems like a good way for me to make it to Europe, work a bit, and travel a bit. After a couple of months in Europe , I will eventually make it home to the good ole USA for a career and graduate school.
I have a host-grandmother that lives here with us. She is the sweetest lady. It's interesting to me how she lives in a very modern house (by Peruvian standards) and still holds to some of her campo traditions. This morning, I saw her get a bucket full of cold water and go to the patio to wash her hair, face, and hands. It was like she was still in the countryside where sinks and showers didn't exist. She washed up, blew her nose into the suds on the ground, and dried with a scrap of material. I thought to myself that a sink and running water simply isn't reason enough to change what she has probably been doing for 70 years or more.
June 28, 2005
I read online at the White County News Telegraph (my hometown paper) an opinion piece about Mexicans that really struck a raw nerve. I felt it necessary to reply with an article of my own. I am sure it will probably ruffle some feathers and most won't agree, but I felt it was part of my responsibility as a PCV to share some of what I have learned abroad.
Here's what the article said -
Could it happen in other places? If you are ready for the adventure of a lifetime, try this.-Enter Mexico illegally. Never mind immigration quotas, visas, international law or any of that nonsense.
-Once there, demand that the local government provide free medical care for you and your entire family.
-Demand bilingual nurses and doctors.
-Demand free bilingual local government forms, bulletins, etc.
-Keep your American identity strong.
-Fly Old Glory from your rooftop or proudly display it in your front window or on your car bumper.
-Speak only English at home and in public and insist that your children do also.
-Demand classes in American culture in the Mexican school system.
-Demand a local Mexican driver's license. This will afford other legal rights and will go far to legitimize your unauthorized, illegal presence in Mexico.
-Drive around with no liability insurance and ignore local traffic laws.
-Insist that local Mexican law enforcement teach English to all its officers.Good luck. You will be demanding for the rest of your life because it will never happen. It will not happen in Mexico or any other country in the world except right here in the United States. Land of the naive.
Hopefully, my article will show up in the next edition in White Co. Here's what I replied –
A True Adventure
Over a year and a half ago, I chose an adventure to move to a different land, to learn about another people, and to challenge myself to grow as an individual. I joined the United States Peace Corps. I moved out of my apartment, resigned from my job, sold my car, packed two duffle bags, told my friends and family goodbye, and I moved south of the equator to Peru .
As a volunteer in the Youth Development sector of Peru's Peace Corps Program, I have had the opportunity to teach in small public schools in tiny rural towns where electricity and hot water are unheard of luxuries. I have worked in youth centers in large, urban cites where internet cafes and cell phones are used by most everyone. I have held sick, crying orphans while pressing cold rags to the fevered bodies when no medicine was available. I have mucked out a latrine to provide a healthier sanitation system to a community center. I have fed live stock and moved animals to grassier pastures. I have taught teenagers how to brush their teeth and the importance of personal cleanliness. I have walked through a garbage dump to the home of a grieving widow hoping to give solace and a little hope to her and her six malnourished children.
There have been days when I could not have imagined myself any where else in the world. There have been other days when I have just prayed for guidance and strength to complete my commitment to a community that doesn't seem to need or want my assistance. I carry a note in my journal that was given to me during my first week of service. I pull it out when I have had a particularly stressful day. The note, written in a child's unpracticed hand reads, "Please help me make my parents proud of me." Most days, it's enough to rekindle my motivation to serve.
Many people continue to ask me, "Why did you join the Peace Corps?" My answer doesn't change. I joined the Peace Corps to help others, to learn more about the world, and to better understand myself. What I have come to realize is that I will always be learning these lessons for rest of my life. Had I never decided to leave the safe surroundings of my home town in rural, northeast Georgia , I would never know what poverty, what riches, what lessons, what heartaches the world has to offer. I would never be able to appreciate the wealth of life that I have been able to enjoy as an American.
I entered Peru legally. I have my passport, visa, and green carnet that state my affiliation with the United States Embassy. Gaining the documents was relatively easy for me, as it is for any American citizen to travel. I simply filled out the necessary paper work, attached my birth certificate, paid the $60 application fee, and gave the packet to the clerk at the county court house. A month later I was ready to head to overseas.
For citizens of other countries, it's not as easy and simple. In fact, it is practically impossible to gain the proper documentation to travel unless you are a wealthy, influential citizen; even then it is hardly certain you will be granted permission. With the majority of the country's population being unemployed, living in poverty, making little to no money, a passport to travel is only a dream. Yet, that doesn't stop many people from seeking a better future in a different culture for their children.
As a person who sought for me a better future, as an alien in another country, I understand all too well the strife of foreigners that live in the United States . Even after becoming fluent in Spanish, being sensitive to cultural differences, and living in a community where I try everyday to integrate, I still feel as if I am an outsider. I believe that is something that never changes, no matter how long you reside in a place that is not your home.
On several occasions, I have had the unfortunate luck to become sick, ill from bacteria, parasites, or food contamination. I have found myself in the hospital, doctor's office, or at the dentist and what a relief it is to find a nurse or doctor that speaks my native language. There is just nothing like being sick and trying to think through the pain to a language that even after years of speaking fluently won't quite role off the tongue.
I may continue to live in Peru, I may choose to travel to other countries when I finish my service here, for whatever motive, if it's to visit, to work, or to make my home, I will always be an American in my heart. It's a sense of self and pride to hold strong to your personally allegiances.
I have a Peace Corps, an Old Glory, and the Peruvian flag proudly patched on the backpack I carry everywhere. I am guilty of speaking English when I am in my Peruvian host family's home. I talk to my parents and friends in English on crowded public pay phones. My Peace Corps volunteer friends visit and we sit around and chat in English. What's more, when I am with another English speaker, I speak English in the post office, in elevators, in stores, and in taxi cabs. I take the English tour or brochure when it's offered.
My hope in writing this article is to share some of the lessons I have learned by being a stranger in a foreign country. By being guilty of some of the same transgressions that anger those in my hometown, I hope to show the other side of the situation.
My goal is to share that tolerance and acceptance is something we should all strive to obtain in our lives. Just because someone is different from you, speaks an unusual language, or comes from another country doesn't mean they deserve to be disrespected. Many Peruvians could argue that the Peace Corps isn't needed or wanted in Peru . They could demand that I abandon my work or they could write weekly propaganda proclaiming the injustices done to the Peruvian people by foreigners.
So, I thank the Lord every time a Peruvian lends me a kind word or favor, offers me a meal, and opens the door, not only to their humble housing, but to their hearts.
If you are really ready for an adventure of a lifetime, befriend a foreigner, adopt an orphan from a poverty-stricken land, travel, sign up for a language class, or join the United States Peace Corps.
God Bless America, Land of the Free.
June 23, 2005
Today I got up early to go with my one of my counterparts to a small rural community called Canchacuta. We boarded the combi and followed a small dirt road for over two hours. Then we hiked another 45 minutes over rolling hills to a small collection of adobe, thatched-roof houses. Having come to teach the kindergarten class that my counterparts had formed, we were surprised when no children arrived to class. Thinking it was best to go door to door, searching for the students, I was certainly surprised when one brave man told us that the mothers are scared that I will steal the children. It seems that there is an old-wives tale that Gringos come from afar to abduct children from rural communities. Having never seen a fair-haired person before, they could only assume that I was there to take all the children away. My counterpart quickly explained that I was a new teacher and that I would be helping in the classes; for the mother's not to worry, that all of their children would return safely after school.
Rounding up all the students, we finally started class with around 12 little ones. One student even brought his pet lamb. Since most of the conversations were in Quechua, I understood little. We played the equivalent of duck-duck-goose, had a snack of bananas, and then settled into the lesson for the day. Very few of the children spoke to me, but all gave me curious stares. My counterpart told me after class that it is good for me to visit to quail some of their long held fears of foreigners.
As we were hiking out, a man with a bucket of yellowish liquid called to us from across the field. He wanted to invite us to drink some of his chicha, a sweet corn juice. A little apprehensive, my counterpart said we should visit so that we would be welcomed in the future. We ventured over and 10 or 12 other men swaddled over as well. They bombarded me with questions and I answered them all with ease, before we knew it, we were invited behind the house to meet the ladies. What a sight! As I rounded the home, I came upon 20 or more women dressed in their traditional finest. Huge skirts of brilliant colors, sweaters and blouses with elaborate embroidery, wide brim white hats decked in cloths to block the bright sunshine. All with toothless grins and smiling eyes. We were immediately welcomed and invited to sit in the soft grass with other community members. We had happened on a celebration for Dia del Campesino. We were handed huge portions of soup still boiling in their gourd bowls. Imagine their surprise, when I tore right into my portion of guinea pig complete with claws and eye balls. Which I found to be delicious! After I had taken a turn sitting by each little lady, eaten my fill, I left with a promise to return and learn the ways of their people. Which I fully intend to do.
June 19, 2005
Today is Father's Day and it has been a good day, even if a little bitter sweet because I wasn't with my real family in Georgia. I went this morning with my host mother to a small Christian church. It was an interesting experience. The service was in both Spanish and Quechua, but strangely reminded me of the services I attended so many years ago in at home at Bell Scene. We sang "Power in the Blood" in Spanish, then there was the Sunday School report, and messages from the Pastor before he started his sermon. He preached in both Quechua and Spanish, so at times I was a little lost but it was nice to able to worship in a way that was familiar to me.
The finest part of the experience was that I was able to meet a most peculiar woman. At 95 years old, she royally sat in her wheel chair in native dress. Her silver hair was articulately done in braids that circled her head. Imagine my surprise, when she spoke to me in American English. Having been born to American missionaries living in Ecuador, she has spent the majority of her life in South America. Married to a Peruvian, with four children, she has called Peru home since 1928. She was excited to see me, a fellow American, and entertained me with stories of wars, earthquakes, and life in small Quechua communities.
June 16, 2005
I have spent a week in Lima with the rest of my Peru 3 group for our Mid-service medical exams. I have been fortunate to be a guest at the Ambassador's Residence, the local equivalent of the White House. Seems that the Ambassador wanted to also host a PCV during a visit to Lima and I was the lucky one chosen to be the first. The residence itself was spectacular and surrounded on all sides by Secret Service and Peruvian security. I was welcomed in by the 16 year old son, Peter, and was given the grand tour. Mrs. Bush, the First Lady, had just stayed in the VIP Suite a couple of weeks before my visit, complete with a personal office, kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bed room. Since I lack such political power, I was put in the last bedroom down the last hall way. Decked out in pink and flowers, definitely a girly room, I enjoyed a private bathroom and sitting area. It was quite exciting when I figured out that I could call the kitchen from the phone on my bedside table and they would bring me most anything. My food would arrive by way of a butler clad in a black and white tux. He would sit the tray on the bed or the table, wherever I preferred. The tray was finished with a personal silver carafe of coffee, Splenda in a crystal bowl, and my food on a plate embossed with the United States Emblem with a periphery of gold stars. I was able to converse with the family, use Internet, and watch TV (satellite channels straight from the USA) in their personal quarters upstairs. Downstairs beheld the George Washington Room with a painting of his likeness, a library filled with Pre-Incan artifacts, the formal dining room with chairs fit for kings, and a patio and pool area that boasted two pet rabbits.
May 23, 2005
I am definitely staying busy here. I think I could spend every waking hour at the orphanage and I would never get bored nor would all the work get done. Kanela as well is having a ball with the kids. I think her first day with all 25 kids was a bit overwhelming, but now she is just another part of the orphanage community.
Last Saturday, I undertook co-responsibility for taking the kids to the circus. Boy, what a day.
May 17, 2005
Yesterday was my first official day of work. Around 11:00 a.m. I started out by going to the comedor or community kitchen that is supported by the Rainbow House Association. It is located just a few blocks from my house inside the Christian Alliance Church. There I found three women preparing the day's lunch, in a comfortable lengthy way, they chopped cabbage for the salad and added potatoes to the beef stew. And like most moms, they were discussing issues they were having with their children. They welcomed me, gave me a chair, and I asked a few questions of my own. Around 12:30 children of the city started trickling in for their meal. All of the children are street workers: shoe shiners, vendors, or beggars. Most were dirty and unkempt but all had a huge smile on their face. A few mothers brought in babies and toddlers for what is probably the only meal they will receive for the day. I got the usual questions from the children. Are your eyes real? Do you dye your hair? How did you learn to speak Spanish? I noticed that not one crumb was left on the plates of the children. Most of them said a prayer before they started to eat, all had good table manners, and ate quietly. With a "See you tomorrow", they went back to work on the streets of Huaraz.
I had lunch at a Chinese Restaurant, chicken with vegetables. I then headed back to my house to chill out for about an hour. Kanela is doing well here. She was fast friends with the other dog in the house and is able to step right out the front door to do her business.
Around 5:00, I headed up the hill to the Rainbow House. I could hear the children making racket from outside the gate. I was welcomed in by a harried house mother and was immediately invited to sit at a table with two little girls. They were practicing reading aloud; I just stepped right in as tutor and helped with their pronunciation. The children are on a tight routine, they do the same things every single day. At 5:30, bath time and all the kids returned to the living room in their sweet-smelling clean pajamas. Some of the girls needed their hair combed and the rest settled in on the wrap- around couch for an hour of TV. I settled myself down with 3 toddlers, one on each leg and the other tucked under my arm. I noticed immediately, that although the kids have many creature comforts like a nice home, clean clothes, hot water, healthy food, they are starved for love and attention. The house mother is so busy taking care of the basics, like washing clothes, cleaning rooms, preparing food, that it's difficult for her to sit and chat or hug all of the children. All of the children at one time or another climbed up on my lap or gave me a hug.
There are two small babies in the home. I picked up the four month old from his cradle and the house mother warned me not to hold him for long because 'he will get used to it'. I was a little startled by her declaration. She said that it would be soon anyway that the babies would be adopted. Having studied a bit of psychology, I know that holding a baby is integral for proper development. If a child isn't held and nurtured, many problems can ensue. So, I held the baby for a couple of minutes then returned him to his cradle. In my mind, I rationalized that the house mother can't spend all of her time holding and caring for two babies, when there are 23 other mouths to feed. It's in my heart to incorporate a better system for the babies.
Dinnertime started around 7:30 and the children were served a sort of porridge with a piece of bread. The smallest toddlers were given a sippy cup but all had to feed themselves. I took pity on one little girl that was struggling with her spoon and helped her eat. She ate every drop without a whimper. I thought of all the two year olds I know at home in the states that fuss and complain about eating or make a mess in their chairs. In this house, they have never heard of the 'terrible twos' time period for children.
After dinner, everyone ran up the stairs to brush their teeth. I helped the smallest ones with their brushing and rinsing. Then it was back downstairs to the living room for the nightly prayer and devotional. The house mother chose four children to pray and we all bowed our heads. We sang three songs then it was off to bed and to sleep. I gave and received hugs and kisses and headed home.
Some of the things I noticed about the Rainbow House is how the oldest ones (from necessity) take care of the younger ones. For example, there are 8-year-olds changing diapers and 13-year-olds holding crying 8-year-olds. The children have to fend well for themselves and for the other children in the house.
May 4, 2005
Boy, what a day! I arrived to Huaraz around 6:45 a.m. this morning and was so wired that I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't wait to find my new host family and counter part. I met my APCD for breakfast at 8:30 a.m. and she put me in charge of finding me a place to live here in the city. I don't even know a thing about the city, much less where to look for a place to live. So, I just headed to down town and asked random people on the street. They suggested I look at the advisory wall. There is a section of the wall in down town where everyone just tapes up hand-written notices. Some are for employment and a few were for room rentals. Not knowing any street names, I just thought I would set out. I soon encountered a few houses that had a sign in the window saying they rented rooms, but no luck. Along the way, I couldn't help but take in all the sights, smells, and sounds of my new home. The majority of the people was speaking Quechua and was dressed in very traditionally clothing -- brightly colored skirts, hand woven sweaters, and white straw hats were everywhere. I made it to an old hostel that had been turned into something of a boarding house. They didn't have anything that I considered appropriate, but the daughter of the family (around my age) said she would show me some places that she knows about. She ended up showing me around town for 2 hours and we finally found the perfect home. It's a two story house, just off the main plaza. I have my own entrance to my room from the road, my own bathroom with hot water, and a small patio. The lady of the house was so sweet! She said I could use the kitchen and the house as if it were my own. They even have a refrigerator and a microwave. The best part is they have a little dog named Lucky and Kanela is welcome too! I couldn't believe my luck. A great place to live, a really sweet family, in a nice part of town, and at a cheap price – all found by me within my first day in my new site.
Huaraz feels a lot different than Trujillo. In Huaraz, the people seem more trusting and genuine. In Trujillo , the people seemed jaded. It's also a lot smaller. I walked from one end of town to the other and that would have been only the distance to the market in Trujillo. I can't wait to get my bike and explore the city even more. I am hoping that I can ride to visit volunteers who live relatively close to Huaraz. There are around 25 volunteers in this area.
Tomorrow we visit an orphanage, translated The Rainbow House in English, for a possible work site and countepart. Such a coincidence, I worked with a shelter in Dahlonega with the same name. I think it's a sign. I hope everything works out. I need a good job to do here.
Last night was unexpectedly a lot of fun. I went to the orphanage as usual in the afternoon and found the oldest girls of the house fretting about what to wear to one of their friend's 15th birthday party. Turning 15 is no small feat for a teen here. Her Quinceañera is the equivalent of a coming out party and everyone attends dressed to the nines. So, I helped the girls decide on shoes and dresses and then before I knew it, they were sure I just had to go with them. I tried to dissuade them with my lack of proper attire, but Rosie, the oldest girl of the house, assured me if she went with me to my closet, she could find something appropriate. In my room, Rosie proposed that I wear a pair of red pants, my red knitted poncho, and black heels. Now, I would not have been caught dead in the States in this outfit for I felt like a she-devil headed to a prayer meeting, but here in Peru it did somehow seem appropriate.
Back at the house, I put all the girls' hair in up-does. Seems my long-lost hobby of doing hair was once again coming in handy. In all, I did 7 girls' hair and makeup, plus my own. Around 10:00, we were off. I succumbed to the girls' pressure of taking a taxi so we could all arrive in style. I guess we did make quite a stunning entrance to the party, an entourage of pretty, dark haired young ladies in long gowns and a tall Gringa dressed from head to toe in fire-engine red.
The church where the party was held was very prettily decorated with a big cake, flowers, and streamers. The girls giggled the entire night and worried over the boys, like in any culture, I presume. I actually met some new people, ate corn kernels and cheese on a toothpick, and found myself having a very delightful time.
July 1, 2005
I am trying to get back into the swing of things here in Huaraz after a weekend in Lima. I didn't do so much just finished up my cavity-filling fun, hung out with my boss a bit, and met the new group of trainees. It's so crazy to see how far I have come since my days in Santa Eulalia, when I was a scared to death novice. To think that I am considered a knowledgeable volunteer these days. It seems almost impossible that I have made it this far.
With only 10 months left in my service and many of my months filling up with activities it really makes me consider what I will get myself into after PC. I have been looking into English teaching programs in Spain . Looks like for free room and board you teach English for 3, 6, or 12 months to the children of a host family. You are guaranteed 3 days off a week. This seems like a good way for me to make it to Europe, work a bit, and travel a bit. After a couple of months in Europe , I will eventually make it home to the good ole USA for a career and graduate school.
I have a host-grandmother that lives here with us. She is the sweetest lady. It's interesting to me how she lives in a very modern house (by Peruvian standards) and still holds to some of her campo traditions. This morning, I saw her get a bucket full of cold water and go to the patio to wash her hair, face, and hands. It was like she was still in the countryside where sinks and showers didn't exist. She washed up, blew her nose into the suds on the ground, and dried with a scrap of material. I thought to myself that a sink and running water simply isn't reason enough to change what she has probably been doing for 70 years or more.
June 28, 2005
I read online at the White County News Telegraph (my hometown paper) an opinion piece about Mexicans that really struck a raw nerve. I felt it necessary to reply with an article of my own. I am sure it will probably ruffle some feathers and most won't agree, but I felt it was part of my responsibility as a PCV to share some of what I have learned abroad.
Here's what the article said -
Could it happen in other places? If you are ready for the adventure of a lifetime, try this.-Enter Mexico illegally. Never mind immigration quotas, visas, international law or any of that nonsense.
-Once there, demand that the local government provide free medical care for you and your entire family.
-Demand bilingual nurses and doctors.
-Demand free bilingual local government forms, bulletins, etc.
-Keep your American identity strong.
-Fly Old Glory from your rooftop or proudly display it in your front window or on your car bumper.
-Speak only English at home and in public and insist that your children do also.
-Demand classes in American culture in the Mexican school system.
-Demand a local Mexican driver's license. This will afford other legal rights and will go far to legitimize your unauthorized, illegal presence in Mexico.
-Drive around with no liability insurance and ignore local traffic laws.
-Insist that local Mexican law enforcement teach English to all its officers.Good luck. You will be demanding for the rest of your life because it will never happen. It will not happen in Mexico or any other country in the world except right here in the United States. Land of the naive.
Hopefully, my article will show up in the next edition in White Co. Here's what I replied –
A True Adventure
Over a year and a half ago, I chose an adventure to move to a different land, to learn about another people, and to challenge myself to grow as an individual. I joined the United States Peace Corps. I moved out of my apartment, resigned from my job, sold my car, packed two duffle bags, told my friends and family goodbye, and I moved south of the equator to Peru .
As a volunteer in the Youth Development sector of Peru's Peace Corps Program, I have had the opportunity to teach in small public schools in tiny rural towns where electricity and hot water are unheard of luxuries. I have worked in youth centers in large, urban cites where internet cafes and cell phones are used by most everyone. I have held sick, crying orphans while pressing cold rags to the fevered bodies when no medicine was available. I have mucked out a latrine to provide a healthier sanitation system to a community center. I have fed live stock and moved animals to grassier pastures. I have taught teenagers how to brush their teeth and the importance of personal cleanliness. I have walked through a garbage dump to the home of a grieving widow hoping to give solace and a little hope to her and her six malnourished children.
There have been days when I could not have imagined myself any where else in the world. There have been other days when I have just prayed for guidance and strength to complete my commitment to a community that doesn't seem to need or want my assistance. I carry a note in my journal that was given to me during my first week of service. I pull it out when I have had a particularly stressful day. The note, written in a child's unpracticed hand reads, "Please help me make my parents proud of me." Most days, it's enough to rekindle my motivation to serve.
Many people continue to ask me, "Why did you join the Peace Corps?" My answer doesn't change. I joined the Peace Corps to help others, to learn more about the world, and to better understand myself. What I have come to realize is that I will always be learning these lessons for rest of my life. Had I never decided to leave the safe surroundings of my home town in rural, northeast Georgia , I would never know what poverty, what riches, what lessons, what heartaches the world has to offer. I would never be able to appreciate the wealth of life that I have been able to enjoy as an American.
I entered Peru legally. I have my passport, visa, and green carnet that state my affiliation with the United States Embassy. Gaining the documents was relatively easy for me, as it is for any American citizen to travel. I simply filled out the necessary paper work, attached my birth certificate, paid the $60 application fee, and gave the packet to the clerk at the county court house. A month later I was ready to head to overseas.
For citizens of other countries, it's not as easy and simple. In fact, it is practically impossible to gain the proper documentation to travel unless you are a wealthy, influential citizen; even then it is hardly certain you will be granted permission. With the majority of the country's population being unemployed, living in poverty, making little to no money, a passport to travel is only a dream. Yet, that doesn't stop many people from seeking a better future in a different culture for their children.
As a person who sought for me a better future, as an alien in another country, I understand all too well the strife of foreigners that live in the United States . Even after becoming fluent in Spanish, being sensitive to cultural differences, and living in a community where I try everyday to integrate, I still feel as if I am an outsider. I believe that is something that never changes, no matter how long you reside in a place that is not your home.
On several occasions, I have had the unfortunate luck to become sick, ill from bacteria, parasites, or food contamination. I have found myself in the hospital, doctor's office, or at the dentist and what a relief it is to find a nurse or doctor that speaks my native language. There is just nothing like being sick and trying to think through the pain to a language that even after years of speaking fluently won't quite role off the tongue.
I may continue to live in Peru, I may choose to travel to other countries when I finish my service here, for whatever motive, if it's to visit, to work, or to make my home, I will always be an American in my heart. It's a sense of self and pride to hold strong to your personally allegiances.
I have a Peace Corps, an Old Glory, and the Peruvian flag proudly patched on the backpack I carry everywhere. I am guilty of speaking English when I am in my Peruvian host family's home. I talk to my parents and friends in English on crowded public pay phones. My Peace Corps volunteer friends visit and we sit around and chat in English. What's more, when I am with another English speaker, I speak English in the post office, in elevators, in stores, and in taxi cabs. I take the English tour or brochure when it's offered.
My hope in writing this article is to share some of the lessons I have learned by being a stranger in a foreign country. By being guilty of some of the same transgressions that anger those in my hometown, I hope to show the other side of the situation.
My goal is to share that tolerance and acceptance is something we should all strive to obtain in our lives. Just because someone is different from you, speaks an unusual language, or comes from another country doesn't mean they deserve to be disrespected. Many Peruvians could argue that the Peace Corps isn't needed or wanted in Peru . They could demand that I abandon my work or they could write weekly propaganda proclaiming the injustices done to the Peruvian people by foreigners.
So, I thank the Lord every time a Peruvian lends me a kind word or favor, offers me a meal, and opens the door, not only to their humble housing, but to their hearts.
If you are really ready for an adventure of a lifetime, befriend a foreigner, adopt an orphan from a poverty-stricken land, travel, sign up for a language class, or join the United States Peace Corps.
God Bless America, Land of the Free.
June 23, 2005
Today I got up early to go with my one of my counterparts to a small rural community called Canchacuta. We boarded the combi and followed a small dirt road for over two hours. Then we hiked another 45 minutes over rolling hills to a small collection of adobe, thatched-roof houses. Having come to teach the kindergarten class that my counterparts had formed, we were surprised when no children arrived to class. Thinking it was best to go door to door, searching for the students, I was certainly surprised when one brave man told us that the mothers are scared that I will steal the children. It seems that there is an old-wives tale that Gringos come from afar to abduct children from rural communities. Having never seen a fair-haired person before, they could only assume that I was there to take all the children away. My counterpart quickly explained that I was a new teacher and that I would be helping in the classes; for the mother's not to worry, that all of their children would return safely after school.
Rounding up all the students, we finally started class with around 12 little ones. One student even brought his pet lamb. Since most of the conversations were in Quechua, I understood little. We played the equivalent of duck-duck-goose, had a snack of bananas, and then settled into the lesson for the day. Very few of the children spoke to me, but all gave me curious stares. My counterpart told me after class that it is good for me to visit to quail some of their long held fears of foreigners.
As we were hiking out, a man with a bucket of yellowish liquid called to us from across the field. He wanted to invite us to drink some of his chicha, a sweet corn juice. A little apprehensive, my counterpart said we should visit so that we would be welcomed in the future. We ventured over and 10 or 12 other men swaddled over as well. They bombarded me with questions and I answered them all with ease, before we knew it, we were invited behind the house to meet the ladies. What a sight! As I rounded the home, I came upon 20 or more women dressed in their traditional finest. Huge skirts of brilliant colors, sweaters and blouses with elaborate embroidery, wide brim white hats decked in cloths to block the bright sunshine. All with toothless grins and smiling eyes. We were immediately welcomed and invited to sit in the soft grass with other community members. We had happened on a celebration for Dia del Campesino. We were handed huge portions of soup still boiling in their gourd bowls. Imagine their surprise, when I tore right into my portion of guinea pig complete with claws and eye balls. Which I found to be delicious! After I had taken a turn sitting by each little lady, eaten my fill, I left with a promise to return and learn the ways of their people. Which I fully intend to do.
June 19, 2005
Today is Father's Day and it has been a good day, even if a little bitter sweet because I wasn't with my real family in Georgia. I went this morning with my host mother to a small Christian church. It was an interesting experience. The service was in both Spanish and Quechua, but strangely reminded me of the services I attended so many years ago in at home at Bell Scene. We sang "Power in the Blood" in Spanish, then there was the Sunday School report, and messages from the Pastor before he started his sermon. He preached in both Quechua and Spanish, so at times I was a little lost but it was nice to able to worship in a way that was familiar to me.
The finest part of the experience was that I was able to meet a most peculiar woman. At 95 years old, she royally sat in her wheel chair in native dress. Her silver hair was articulately done in braids that circled her head. Imagine my surprise, when she spoke to me in American English. Having been born to American missionaries living in Ecuador, she has spent the majority of her life in South America. Married to a Peruvian, with four children, she has called Peru home since 1928. She was excited to see me, a fellow American, and entertained me with stories of wars, earthquakes, and life in small Quechua communities.
June 16, 2005
I have spent a week in Lima with the rest of my Peru 3 group for our Mid-service medical exams. I have been fortunate to be a guest at the Ambassador's Residence, the local equivalent of the White House. Seems that the Ambassador wanted to also host a PCV during a visit to Lima and I was the lucky one chosen to be the first. The residence itself was spectacular and surrounded on all sides by Secret Service and Peruvian security. I was welcomed in by the 16 year old son, Peter, and was given the grand tour. Mrs. Bush, the First Lady, had just stayed in the VIP Suite a couple of weeks before my visit, complete with a personal office, kitchen, bathroom, living room, and bed room. Since I lack such political power, I was put in the last bedroom down the last hall way. Decked out in pink and flowers, definitely a girly room, I enjoyed a private bathroom and sitting area. It was quite exciting when I figured out that I could call the kitchen from the phone on my bedside table and they would bring me most anything. My food would arrive by way of a butler clad in a black and white tux. He would sit the tray on the bed or the table, wherever I preferred. The tray was finished with a personal silver carafe of coffee, Splenda in a crystal bowl, and my food on a plate embossed with the United States Emblem with a periphery of gold stars. I was able to converse with the family, use Internet, and watch TV (satellite channels straight from the USA) in their personal quarters upstairs. Downstairs beheld the George Washington Room with a painting of his likeness, a library filled with Pre-Incan artifacts, the formal dining room with chairs fit for kings, and a patio and pool area that boasted two pet rabbits.
May 23, 2005
I am definitely staying busy here. I think I could spend every waking hour at the orphanage and I would never get bored nor would all the work get done. Kanela as well is having a ball with the kids. I think her first day with all 25 kids was a bit overwhelming, but now she is just another part of the orphanage community.
Last Saturday, I undertook co-responsibility for taking the kids to the circus. Boy, what a day.
May 17, 2005
Yesterday was my first official day of work. Around 11:00 a.m. I started out by going to the comedor or community kitchen that is supported by the Rainbow House Association. It is located just a few blocks from my house inside the Christian Alliance Church. There I found three women preparing the day's lunch, in a comfortable lengthy way, they chopped cabbage for the salad and added potatoes to the beef stew. And like most moms, they were discussing issues they were having with their children. They welcomed me, gave me a chair, and I asked a few questions of my own. Around 12:30 children of the city started trickling in for their meal. All of the children are street workers: shoe shiners, vendors, or beggars. Most were dirty and unkempt but all had a huge smile on their face. A few mothers brought in babies and toddlers for what is probably the only meal they will receive for the day. I got the usual questions from the children. Are your eyes real? Do you dye your hair? How did you learn to speak Spanish? I noticed that not one crumb was left on the plates of the children. Most of them said a prayer before they started to eat, all had good table manners, and ate quietly. With a "See you tomorrow", they went back to work on the streets of Huaraz.
I had lunch at a Chinese Restaurant, chicken with vegetables. I then headed back to my house to chill out for about an hour. Kanela is doing well here. She was fast friends with the other dog in the house and is able to step right out the front door to do her business.
Around 5:00, I headed up the hill to the Rainbow House. I could hear the children making racket from outside the gate. I was welcomed in by a harried house mother and was immediately invited to sit at a table with two little girls. They were practicing reading aloud; I just stepped right in as tutor and helped with their pronunciation. The children are on a tight routine, they do the same things every single day. At 5:30, bath time and all the kids returned to the living room in their sweet-smelling clean pajamas. Some of the girls needed their hair combed and the rest settled in on the wrap- around couch for an hour of TV. I settled myself down with 3 toddlers, one on each leg and the other tucked under my arm. I noticed immediately, that although the kids have many creature comforts like a nice home, clean clothes, hot water, healthy food, they are starved for love and attention. The house mother is so busy taking care of the basics, like washing clothes, cleaning rooms, preparing food, that it's difficult for her to sit and chat or hug all of the children. All of the children at one time or another climbed up on my lap or gave me a hug.
There are two small babies in the home. I picked up the four month old from his cradle and the house mother warned me not to hold him for long because 'he will get used to it'. I was a little startled by her declaration. She said that it would be soon anyway that the babies would be adopted. Having studied a bit of psychology, I know that holding a baby is integral for proper development. If a child isn't held and nurtured, many problems can ensue. So, I held the baby for a couple of minutes then returned him to his cradle. In my mind, I rationalized that the house mother can't spend all of her time holding and caring for two babies, when there are 23 other mouths to feed. It's in my heart to incorporate a better system for the babies.
Dinnertime started around 7:30 and the children were served a sort of porridge with a piece of bread. The smallest toddlers were given a sippy cup but all had to feed themselves. I took pity on one little girl that was struggling with her spoon and helped her eat. She ate every drop without a whimper. I thought of all the two year olds I know at home in the states that fuss and complain about eating or make a mess in their chairs. In this house, they have never heard of the 'terrible twos' time period for children.
After dinner, everyone ran up the stairs to brush their teeth. I helped the smallest ones with their brushing and rinsing. Then it was back downstairs to the living room for the nightly prayer and devotional. The house mother chose four children to pray and we all bowed our heads. We sang three songs then it was off to bed and to sleep. I gave and received hugs and kisses and headed home.
Some of the things I noticed about the Rainbow House is how the oldest ones (from necessity) take care of the younger ones. For example, there are 8-year-olds changing diapers and 13-year-olds holding crying 8-year-olds. The children have to fend well for themselves and for the other children in the house.
May 4, 2005
Boy, what a day! I arrived to Huaraz around 6:45 a.m. this morning and was so wired that I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't wait to find my new host family and counter part. I met my APCD for breakfast at 8:30 a.m. and she put me in charge of finding me a place to live here in the city. I don't even know a thing about the city, much less where to look for a place to live. So, I just headed to down town and asked random people on the street. They suggested I look at the advisory wall. There is a section of the wall in down town where everyone just tapes up hand-written notices. Some are for employment and a few were for room rentals. Not knowing any street names, I just thought I would set out. I soon encountered a few houses that had a sign in the window saying they rented rooms, but no luck. Along the way, I couldn't help but take in all the sights, smells, and sounds of my new home. The majority of the people was speaking Quechua and was dressed in very traditionally clothing -- brightly colored skirts, hand woven sweaters, and white straw hats were everywhere. I made it to an old hostel that had been turned into something of a boarding house. They didn't have anything that I considered appropriate, but the daughter of the family (around my age) said she would show me some places that she knows about. She ended up showing me around town for 2 hours and we finally found the perfect home. It's a two story house, just off the main plaza. I have my own entrance to my room from the road, my own bathroom with hot water, and a small patio. The lady of the house was so sweet! She said I could use the kitchen and the house as if it were my own. They even have a refrigerator and a microwave. The best part is they have a little dog named Lucky and Kanela is welcome too! I couldn't believe my luck. A great place to live, a really sweet family, in a nice part of town, and at a cheap price – all found by me within my first day in my new site.
Huaraz feels a lot different than Trujillo. In Huaraz, the people seem more trusting and genuine. In Trujillo , the people seemed jaded. It's also a lot smaller. I walked from one end of town to the other and that would have been only the distance to the market in Trujillo. I can't wait to get my bike and explore the city even more. I am hoping that I can ride to visit volunteers who live relatively close to Huaraz. There are around 25 volunteers in this area.
Tomorrow we visit an orphanage, translated The Rainbow House in English, for a possible work site and countepart. Such a coincidence, I worked with a shelter in Dahlonega with the same name. I think it's a sign. I hope everything works out. I need a good job to do here.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Site Change
May 2, 2005
So, I am hanging back out in Lima. I just got back from Trujillo where I moved 17 bags to Huaraz via bus. Now, now… I know that sounds like a lot but the PC Coordinator from Cajamarca said to just send it all, so I did. I even sent my new bike. It was a bit difficult to go back to Trujillo. Since the YMCA hadn’t heard from us in weeks, they were eagerly waiting official information. I gave my new boss the official El Milagro tour, complete with sites of the landfill, jail, and latrines way passed being over-filled. Since, I had to leave little Kanela in the hands of two friends, I am going to pick her up and return to finish saying goodbye once I get settled in my new site.
I have been crocheting. I have completed 3 scarves, 1 hat, and a table-runner (shawl gone wrong!). I just bought green yarn for a blanket. I find such joy in actually making articles to wear and use with my own hands. It’s extremely therapeutic and relieves stress as well.
I head to Huaraz tomorrow night to meet my new Peace Corps destiny.
April 24, 2005
I have spent the entire day hanging out with my new APCD and site mate in Lima. We got up late and cooked an elaborate breakfast of French toast, cantaloupe, and coffee. We discussed our hopes for our new sites. I see myself helping CARE by working in the office in Huaraz a couple of days a week, then finding other children’s activities (orphanages, clubs, schools) on my own the other couple of days a week. I can tell that we are opening up more and more with our APCD and her with us. I admitted to being the ‘high-maintenance’ one of the group. I like my shopping, pedicures, and imported products as frequently as possible. If there is a modern convenience available, I will take it. Our APCD, a very positive individual, has filled her new space with optimistic energy cards and photos of her family and she loves to sing.
In the afternoon, we took a taxi a few blocks downtown where we encountered this crazy little park, a miniature Six Flags. It was complete with a tiny train where you could ride to see the whole park. I got a 10 minute massage while they ate desserts. We finally got around to heading to the grocery store around 2:00 to buy some needed household supplies.
For dinner, we had a huge salad (lettuce and all the veggies you could imagine) and spaghetti with meat sauce. My site mate impressed us by making a sweet-potato pie from scratch. With our bellies full, we watched the end of Star Wars, dubbed in Spanish, on TV.
The last couple of days have been just like today – lots of food, conversation, and relaxation. It has been a great respite from the stressors of volunteer life.
April 21, 2005
I made it to Lima super-early this morning. I went directly to my new APCD’s house and she made us a great breakfast of omelets and yogurt. Then she pretty much dropped the bomb – big changes in Trujillo. They are moving us?! The results from the investigation proved what we have known all along, Trujillo (especially our sites) are too dangerous for volunteers. My site mate and I will be moved to Ancash, a rural mountainous town about 8 hours by bus from Trujillo. She said we would be working with CARE, an NGO, and living about 45 minutes outside of the city of Huaraz. There are around 30 volunteers serving in Ancash, big change from my being one of two in Trujillo.
At the Peace Corps Office, my site mate and I was the subject of many meetings. We learned that we would stay in Lima until next Wednesday, then go to Trujillo for our things on Thursday, head back to Lima on Friday, then by the next week be in our new sites, where ever those are. Site development for our communities has yet to be done. In fact, my APCD is open to ideas and has encouraged me to investigate further options for me in these towns near Huaraz. I have been on the phone all day talking with volunteers in that area to see what they think of the areas. A couple of the volunteers say working with CARE is unstructured at best and the sites are very rural – latrines and conservative Indian villages. My hope is to actually be placed inside the capital city, Huaraz. I can work with CARE in their regional office, visit the small villages with other CARE workers, but have the luxuries a city can provide – hot water and internet.
April 20, 2005
I woke up this morning to “Meez Leez” wafting up to my window. The calling of my name came from my host mother downstairs alerting me to a visitor. She is so cute because she uses the English title “Miss” with my Peruvian nickname “Liz” and it comes out rhyming. My visitor was the president of the bike club wanting my signature on a document that we are presenting to the municipality to formalize the new club. They have wanted me to be on the executive board of the club, I am hoping it is just for a little added influence and not for what they think they might can receive monetarily. I satisfy my preoccupation with the fact that I can deal with it, if and when, that problem arises. For now, I enjoy being a part of the group and riding on Sundays.
I stopped by a new gym to get their prices, pretty cheap for a month, only 60 soles.
I leave for Lima at 10:00 p.m.
April 19, 2005
Now it’s time for damage control. I had to come back to Trujillo for a meeting with a Peace Corps guy who was coming to investigate my site mate’s community and to do a workshop with other volunteers in El Milagro. Also, I was able to carry Nela with me to Cajamarca (she was a little angel on the bus!) but wouldn’t be able to take her with me to Lima per Peace Corps regulations.
At work, everyone had a ton of questions about the robbery, our vacation, and what is really going on. I explained the best I could, getting upset yet again, and told them I would be going to Lima for further conversations with Peace Corps. The workshop with the kiddies went well; that’s something positive.
After I leave work, YMCA Director calls me to demand why someone from Peace Corps is in my site mate’s room and wants to hear something from Peace Corps Lima immediately. So, I call an APCD to request that they call the director and explain what is going on – I really didn’t know either. I happen to run into my director a little later in town where she gives me an earful - I find many of the things that she says are completely true. She feels, since January, communication with Peace Corps has conked out. That the least she can do as our counterpart is help in situations like an assault/robbery but she has to be informed first. I told her that our new APCD had just arrived this week and from now on I feel that things will get better. I hope so, for both of our sakes.
My meeting with the Peace Corps dude was cancelled. He says he has meetings scheduled and won’t be able to meet with me like earlier planned. I was super curious what he had found out about my site mate’s community (not my business, really) but was hoping to hear something anyway. I will have to wait until I get to Lima.
April 18, 2005
It has been a strange couple of days.
To recap on what has been going on, I took a quick little vacation over the weekend (with permission from Peace Corps of course) to Cajamarca to clear my mind of some things going on in my site. I have been pretty bummed out of late and it is slowing entering my consciousness what is actually happening. It is so strange how your mind and body can block from you what is really happening and you can’t identify what is really the source of your stress. I have just been super depressed lately and unable to identify the real source of it all. I have been thinking that the main problem is that I don’t have any other volunteers close to my site for me to visit. I have to ask permission every time I want to leave and to me that doesn’t seem fair when other volunteers are in clusters of 20-30 volunteers and can see their friends whenever they want. So, I ventured to Cajamarca and I hung with other volunteers and you know what I realize? They are feeling the same way as me – bummed out, depressed, unenergetic, unmotivated to start new projects, etc., etc. It was almost eerie to hear the similarities in our situations. And they are wishing that they didn’t have so many volunteers around, that every time they go to the post office they run into another volunteer, in every restaurant, all over town, there are tons of volunteers. So, it seems that the other side of the river isn’t as green as I thought it was…
Another facet to the vacation to Cajamarca has to do with my site mate. Last Sunday, she was robbed and assaulted a block from her house. It was around midnight and she was returning from visiting with me. She says these two known trouble-makers were hanging out on her corner and two watchmen were chilling on the other. What a surprise when the two troublemakers start to harass her, grab her bags while punching and kicking her, and throw her to the ground. She says she screamed and screamed but nobody helped her. The watchmen later stated they were also threatened with a knife and were afraid to help her. After her report to Peace Corps, they sent her on a mandatory vacation in order to investigate the situation. So, we both headed to Cajamarca to think and get our heads straightened out.
I was relaxing in my hostel room in Cajamarca and I received a phone call from my new boss in Lima, the new APCD. She is just starting her first day as the new director of our Young Development Project. We have been without an APCD since January; our previous boss (who rocked!) left for a better PC job in another country. She is surprised to find me in Cajamarca, in fact, seems angry with me. After we hang up, I am shocked! I am supposed to be chilling out, getting my head in gear, strengthening my emotional health (on the advice of PC) and my new boss calls to demand why I am out of my site. Where is this supportive Peace Corps environment that they like to brag about? So, I call the secretary at Peace Corps (she had set up my plans to leave) crying because at this point tiny things are throwing me for loops. She explains that my APCD had not read her email from the weekend where it explains that I have permission to be in Cajamarca. She makes me feel better and we ended up talking for a half hour; she is a life-saver.
My APCD called back and explains better what happened – my YMCA Director in Trujillo had called Peace Corps and demanded to know why my site mate and I were getting switched to work in Cajamarca. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard about my site mate’s robbery/assault, so that doubly complicated the situation. We thought we had sufficiently alerted our counterparts by telling our work centers that we were traveling to Cajamarca because of Peace Corps instructions. Seems the grapevine began to work and our big boss concluded that we were never coming back?! As my APCD is explaining all this, I get angry. I haven’t heard a thing from Peace Corps about my site and/or my work in months, like nobody gives a rip until forced to deal with it – a call from a big-wig Peruvian counterpart. So, I spill the beans, so to speak, and tell her how abandoned, isolated I have felt in my site. I have written emails to Peace Corps but receive answers that don’t make sense because the people there have never visited El Milagro and don’t understand the reality of what I do in Trujillo. That the huge gap in communication and neglect, coupled with isolation from other volunteers has put a toll on me and I need some support. I am tired of swimming solo. She suggests a meeting with my site mate and me in Lima on Thursday where we will discuss everything with the country director of Peace Corps as well.
So, all and all I felt better after the call from my APCD. I said things to her that I didn’t even realize I was feeling, like my head had been blocking what my gut had been trying to tell me for months. I find that I take my stress out on things that are not really the source of my anxiety and it all gets confused in my head. Oh, the things I keep learning about myself!
April 13, 2005
I stayed up till 2:00 am last night just bumming around my room, so I slept till almost noon today. After some coffee, I went for a bike ride around town. You know, all the ridiculous cat calls make me want to punch something. Here I am, unbathed, hair in a ponytail, sweating my head off, and some old Peruvian guys calls out from the corner, “Oh, my God!”, in English. Why can’t they just leave me alone? I am not bothering them; they could have the same respect.
I spent a couple of hours in the internet cabina working on some things for work. I have been designated the official volunteer organizer for YMCA – El Milagro and Otra Cosa. We have 2 German volunteers, 2 Holland volunteers, and one from Switzerland – we have grown! We’ve come to the conclusion that we need meetings, contracts, and obligations for the volunteers. So, I have been busy getting all the documents together. Tomorrow, we meet for the first time here at my house.
My laptop is on the blink – a big virus. It won’t allow me to get online, says there is a connection, but no pages open. I have downloaded four new antiviruses, but nothing is helping.
April 5, 2005
Today has been trying, mentally at least. We started the PDM workshop in Huaraz. It’s all group work, with as much experience as I have had working in groups, I still am becoming somewhat exasperated with mine. It seems that a couple of our members are always right, that all themes point to them and their work. I am comforting myself with the knowledge that my presence and subtlety is helping to point to everyone’s importance and worthiness.
Speaking with others from my training group here, it seems we are all feeling the same way about our service to this point. We are full of negatively and boredom. ‘What the heck are we doing here?’ is a common question.
April 2, 2005
Wow. I haven’t journaled in nearly a month. I have got to improve. Let’s see if I can catch up on these last week’s events.
I headed to Lima on the 15th for a couple of reasons. One was to give a presentation to big-wigs from the United States Embassy. I prepared a PowerPoint and (although I am sure I had grammatical errors) gave the entire thing in Spanish with no cue cards. I have to say -- I did well too! Like Dolly Partin always says, “You gotta toot your own horn, so everybody will know you’re coming.”
I also had to attend the Volunteer Advisory Committee meeting. It was interesting to finally meet some of the new faces in the Peace Corps office and hear their opinions about what is going on with Peace Corps Peru. Of course, I had the opportunity to meet up with other volunteers and just chill in the capital city. We ate in ritzy restaurants and enjoyed the night life.
As well, I was able to visit the YMCA programs there. I went to a Health campaign in a poor part of town and kinda served as medical receptionist for the morning. I found many similarities to El Milagro there: extreme poverty, no water, no electricity, no sewage, and trash littering the streets and in between houses. I also went to two youth group meetings with a group of German YMCA volunteers. It was really cool how they let the groups lead themselves instead of facilitating the meeting. Their positive morale and enthusiasm was very contagious.
On the 22nd, I picked my mom up at the airport at 1:45 am. What a crazy feeling to actually have Mom here in Peru with me. (Check back for Mom's journal entries of our times together in Peru -- to be added here soon!)
So, I am hanging back out in Lima. I just got back from Trujillo where I moved 17 bags to Huaraz via bus. Now, now… I know that sounds like a lot but the PC Coordinator from Cajamarca said to just send it all, so I did. I even sent my new bike. It was a bit difficult to go back to Trujillo. Since the YMCA hadn’t heard from us in weeks, they were eagerly waiting official information. I gave my new boss the official El Milagro tour, complete with sites of the landfill, jail, and latrines way passed being over-filled. Since, I had to leave little Kanela in the hands of two friends, I am going to pick her up and return to finish saying goodbye once I get settled in my new site.
I have been crocheting. I have completed 3 scarves, 1 hat, and a table-runner (shawl gone wrong!). I just bought green yarn for a blanket. I find such joy in actually making articles to wear and use with my own hands. It’s extremely therapeutic and relieves stress as well.
I head to Huaraz tomorrow night to meet my new Peace Corps destiny.
April 24, 2005
I have spent the entire day hanging out with my new APCD and site mate in Lima. We got up late and cooked an elaborate breakfast of French toast, cantaloupe, and coffee. We discussed our hopes for our new sites. I see myself helping CARE by working in the office in Huaraz a couple of days a week, then finding other children’s activities (orphanages, clubs, schools) on my own the other couple of days a week. I can tell that we are opening up more and more with our APCD and her with us. I admitted to being the ‘high-maintenance’ one of the group. I like my shopping, pedicures, and imported products as frequently as possible. If there is a modern convenience available, I will take it. Our APCD, a very positive individual, has filled her new space with optimistic energy cards and photos of her family and she loves to sing.
In the afternoon, we took a taxi a few blocks downtown where we encountered this crazy little park, a miniature Six Flags. It was complete with a tiny train where you could ride to see the whole park. I got a 10 minute massage while they ate desserts. We finally got around to heading to the grocery store around 2:00 to buy some needed household supplies.
For dinner, we had a huge salad (lettuce and all the veggies you could imagine) and spaghetti with meat sauce. My site mate impressed us by making a sweet-potato pie from scratch. With our bellies full, we watched the end of Star Wars, dubbed in Spanish, on TV.
The last couple of days have been just like today – lots of food, conversation, and relaxation. It has been a great respite from the stressors of volunteer life.
April 21, 2005
I made it to Lima super-early this morning. I went directly to my new APCD’s house and she made us a great breakfast of omelets and yogurt. Then she pretty much dropped the bomb – big changes in Trujillo. They are moving us?! The results from the investigation proved what we have known all along, Trujillo (especially our sites) are too dangerous for volunteers. My site mate and I will be moved to Ancash, a rural mountainous town about 8 hours by bus from Trujillo. She said we would be working with CARE, an NGO, and living about 45 minutes outside of the city of Huaraz. There are around 30 volunteers serving in Ancash, big change from my being one of two in Trujillo.
At the Peace Corps Office, my site mate and I was the subject of many meetings. We learned that we would stay in Lima until next Wednesday, then go to Trujillo for our things on Thursday, head back to Lima on Friday, then by the next week be in our new sites, where ever those are. Site development for our communities has yet to be done. In fact, my APCD is open to ideas and has encouraged me to investigate further options for me in these towns near Huaraz. I have been on the phone all day talking with volunteers in that area to see what they think of the areas. A couple of the volunteers say working with CARE is unstructured at best and the sites are very rural – latrines and conservative Indian villages. My hope is to actually be placed inside the capital city, Huaraz. I can work with CARE in their regional office, visit the small villages with other CARE workers, but have the luxuries a city can provide – hot water and internet.
April 20, 2005
I woke up this morning to “Meez Leez” wafting up to my window. The calling of my name came from my host mother downstairs alerting me to a visitor. She is so cute because she uses the English title “Miss” with my Peruvian nickname “Liz” and it comes out rhyming. My visitor was the president of the bike club wanting my signature on a document that we are presenting to the municipality to formalize the new club. They have wanted me to be on the executive board of the club, I am hoping it is just for a little added influence and not for what they think they might can receive monetarily. I satisfy my preoccupation with the fact that I can deal with it, if and when, that problem arises. For now, I enjoy being a part of the group and riding on Sundays.
I stopped by a new gym to get their prices, pretty cheap for a month, only 60 soles.
I leave for Lima at 10:00 p.m.
April 19, 2005
Now it’s time for damage control. I had to come back to Trujillo for a meeting with a Peace Corps guy who was coming to investigate my site mate’s community and to do a workshop with other volunteers in El Milagro. Also, I was able to carry Nela with me to Cajamarca (she was a little angel on the bus!) but wouldn’t be able to take her with me to Lima per Peace Corps regulations.
At work, everyone had a ton of questions about the robbery, our vacation, and what is really going on. I explained the best I could, getting upset yet again, and told them I would be going to Lima for further conversations with Peace Corps. The workshop with the kiddies went well; that’s something positive.
After I leave work, YMCA Director calls me to demand why someone from Peace Corps is in my site mate’s room and wants to hear something from Peace Corps Lima immediately. So, I call an APCD to request that they call the director and explain what is going on – I really didn’t know either. I happen to run into my director a little later in town where she gives me an earful - I find many of the things that she says are completely true. She feels, since January, communication with Peace Corps has conked out. That the least she can do as our counterpart is help in situations like an assault/robbery but she has to be informed first. I told her that our new APCD had just arrived this week and from now on I feel that things will get better. I hope so, for both of our sakes.
My meeting with the Peace Corps dude was cancelled. He says he has meetings scheduled and won’t be able to meet with me like earlier planned. I was super curious what he had found out about my site mate’s community (not my business, really) but was hoping to hear something anyway. I will have to wait until I get to Lima.
April 18, 2005
It has been a strange couple of days.
To recap on what has been going on, I took a quick little vacation over the weekend (with permission from Peace Corps of course) to Cajamarca to clear my mind of some things going on in my site. I have been pretty bummed out of late and it is slowing entering my consciousness what is actually happening. It is so strange how your mind and body can block from you what is really happening and you can’t identify what is really the source of your stress. I have just been super depressed lately and unable to identify the real source of it all. I have been thinking that the main problem is that I don’t have any other volunteers close to my site for me to visit. I have to ask permission every time I want to leave and to me that doesn’t seem fair when other volunteers are in clusters of 20-30 volunteers and can see their friends whenever they want. So, I ventured to Cajamarca and I hung with other volunteers and you know what I realize? They are feeling the same way as me – bummed out, depressed, unenergetic, unmotivated to start new projects, etc., etc. It was almost eerie to hear the similarities in our situations. And they are wishing that they didn’t have so many volunteers around, that every time they go to the post office they run into another volunteer, in every restaurant, all over town, there are tons of volunteers. So, it seems that the other side of the river isn’t as green as I thought it was…
Another facet to the vacation to Cajamarca has to do with my site mate. Last Sunday, she was robbed and assaulted a block from her house. It was around midnight and she was returning from visiting with me. She says these two known trouble-makers were hanging out on her corner and two watchmen were chilling on the other. What a surprise when the two troublemakers start to harass her, grab her bags while punching and kicking her, and throw her to the ground. She says she screamed and screamed but nobody helped her. The watchmen later stated they were also threatened with a knife and were afraid to help her. After her report to Peace Corps, they sent her on a mandatory vacation in order to investigate the situation. So, we both headed to Cajamarca to think and get our heads straightened out.
I was relaxing in my hostel room in Cajamarca and I received a phone call from my new boss in Lima, the new APCD. She is just starting her first day as the new director of our Young Development Project. We have been without an APCD since January; our previous boss (who rocked!) left for a better PC job in another country. She is surprised to find me in Cajamarca, in fact, seems angry with me. After we hang up, I am shocked! I am supposed to be chilling out, getting my head in gear, strengthening my emotional health (on the advice of PC) and my new boss calls to demand why I am out of my site. Where is this supportive Peace Corps environment that they like to brag about? So, I call the secretary at Peace Corps (she had set up my plans to leave) crying because at this point tiny things are throwing me for loops. She explains that my APCD had not read her email from the weekend where it explains that I have permission to be in Cajamarca. She makes me feel better and we ended up talking for a half hour; she is a life-saver.
My APCD called back and explains better what happened – my YMCA Director in Trujillo had called Peace Corps and demanded to know why my site mate and I were getting switched to work in Cajamarca. Unfortunately, she hadn’t heard about my site mate’s robbery/assault, so that doubly complicated the situation. We thought we had sufficiently alerted our counterparts by telling our work centers that we were traveling to Cajamarca because of Peace Corps instructions. Seems the grapevine began to work and our big boss concluded that we were never coming back?! As my APCD is explaining all this, I get angry. I haven’t heard a thing from Peace Corps about my site and/or my work in months, like nobody gives a rip until forced to deal with it – a call from a big-wig Peruvian counterpart. So, I spill the beans, so to speak, and tell her how abandoned, isolated I have felt in my site. I have written emails to Peace Corps but receive answers that don’t make sense because the people there have never visited El Milagro and don’t understand the reality of what I do in Trujillo. That the huge gap in communication and neglect, coupled with isolation from other volunteers has put a toll on me and I need some support. I am tired of swimming solo. She suggests a meeting with my site mate and me in Lima on Thursday where we will discuss everything with the country director of Peace Corps as well.
So, all and all I felt better after the call from my APCD. I said things to her that I didn’t even realize I was feeling, like my head had been blocking what my gut had been trying to tell me for months. I find that I take my stress out on things that are not really the source of my anxiety and it all gets confused in my head. Oh, the things I keep learning about myself!
April 13, 2005
I stayed up till 2:00 am last night just bumming around my room, so I slept till almost noon today. After some coffee, I went for a bike ride around town. You know, all the ridiculous cat calls make me want to punch something. Here I am, unbathed, hair in a ponytail, sweating my head off, and some old Peruvian guys calls out from the corner, “Oh, my God!”, in English. Why can’t they just leave me alone? I am not bothering them; they could have the same respect.
I spent a couple of hours in the internet cabina working on some things for work. I have been designated the official volunteer organizer for YMCA – El Milagro and Otra Cosa. We have 2 German volunteers, 2 Holland volunteers, and one from Switzerland – we have grown! We’ve come to the conclusion that we need meetings, contracts, and obligations for the volunteers. So, I have been busy getting all the documents together. Tomorrow, we meet for the first time here at my house.
My laptop is on the blink – a big virus. It won’t allow me to get online, says there is a connection, but no pages open. I have downloaded four new antiviruses, but nothing is helping.
April 5, 2005
Today has been trying, mentally at least. We started the PDM workshop in Huaraz. It’s all group work, with as much experience as I have had working in groups, I still am becoming somewhat exasperated with mine. It seems that a couple of our members are always right, that all themes point to them and their work. I am comforting myself with the knowledge that my presence and subtlety is helping to point to everyone’s importance and worthiness.
Speaking with others from my training group here, it seems we are all feeling the same way about our service to this point. We are full of negatively and boredom. ‘What the heck are we doing here?’ is a common question.
April 2, 2005
Wow. I haven’t journaled in nearly a month. I have got to improve. Let’s see if I can catch up on these last week’s events.
I headed to Lima on the 15th for a couple of reasons. One was to give a presentation to big-wigs from the United States Embassy. I prepared a PowerPoint and (although I am sure I had grammatical errors) gave the entire thing in Spanish with no cue cards. I have to say -- I did well too! Like Dolly Partin always says, “You gotta toot your own horn, so everybody will know you’re coming.”
I also had to attend the Volunteer Advisory Committee meeting. It was interesting to finally meet some of the new faces in the Peace Corps office and hear their opinions about what is going on with Peace Corps Peru. Of course, I had the opportunity to meet up with other volunteers and just chill in the capital city. We ate in ritzy restaurants and enjoyed the night life.
As well, I was able to visit the YMCA programs there. I went to a Health campaign in a poor part of town and kinda served as medical receptionist for the morning. I found many similarities to El Milagro there: extreme poverty, no water, no electricity, no sewage, and trash littering the streets and in between houses. I also went to two youth group meetings with a group of German YMCA volunteers. It was really cool how they let the groups lead themselves instead of facilitating the meeting. Their positive morale and enthusiasm was very contagious.
On the 22nd, I picked my mom up at the airport at 1:45 am. What a crazy feeling to actually have Mom here in Peru with me. (Check back for Mom's journal entries of our times together in Peru -- to be added here soon!)
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Cycling meets Recycling
March 11, 2005
Well, I am definitely a spoiled Peace Corps city girl. I just got internet in my room, or at least part time. My host brother has a ‘pirated’ internet line in his accountant’s office and has put a connection into my room. Granted it’s not 24/7 and I have to wait until the office is closed to use the internet, but I am in heaven. The world at my fingertips!
March 9, 2005
My counterpart and I spent 4 solid hours doing inventory of all the medicines left by the missionaries. Oh the great projects we can do!
I went to El Milagro in the afternoon, a bit nervous about being the only YMCA personnel present. I had been the only person in the center before but of late my counterparts have been giving me this responsibility more and more, especially in the afternoons. I realized the growth I had made in the time I have been here. My counterparts trust me to open the center, give classes, help the families that stop in, and then close the center for the day. I remember being scared to walk down the street at first, much less confidant enough to hear the problems of one of our mothers or lead a group of kids in their activities. The families see me as a knowledgeable and responsible worker of the center and (finally) I do too.
March 6, 2005
I tested my limits again today with a bike ride around town, to Buenos Aires, then to Huanchaco, around 49 kilometers in all. That’s about 30 miles! My tale was numb by kilometer 10, which I have learned is the secret to getting used to the bike seat. You just lose feeling and don’t worry about it.
March 5, 2005
Looks like I can make my new cycling hobby into a Peace Corps project. Great news for me because I am really enjoying this new activity where I can meet lots of people and get some great exercise. Lucho had organized a kid’s race at a new park in town and he needed my help to assist in the race events. I was in charge of assigning numbers to each of the kids that were going to race and making sure everyone was in their correct category. About 40 kids showed up for the event.
March 4, 2005
Feeling a little blue, I decided to get dressed and head into downtown for lunch at one of the fancy cafes. While I was enjoying my meal, a guy (obviously American) asked me if he could share my table. What a coincidence – he was also from Georgia and a cyclist. We made plans to meet back up later and go to the Lucho’s bike shop.
I made it to El Milagro in the afternoon to have an English class with the other German volunteer. We had decided to do a class on fruit and brought actual fruit to help with the lesson. The kids really seemed to enjoy it all and learned some new vocabulary words as well. At the end, we surprised them with a watermelon eating contest.
I met back up with the Georgian and we ventured to Lucho’s. As usual, present were a motley group of people: a couple from Belgium, several Peruvians, and the crazy French guy. We made plans to help out with a children’s bike ride on the next day. We ventured to my favorite chicken place for dinner and enjoyed talk of the South and some great sangria.
March 2, 2005
During our home visits in El Milagro today, we came across the wake of one of the murdered victims. The ladies there were proclaiming innocent, the victim of the gangs violence. My counterpart insisted he had to be involved if he was associated with the gangs. It still made me nervous to know that such violence had occurred so close to where I work everyday.
March 1, 2005
I received a disturbing phone call from my Peace Corps boss today. He wanted to know about 8 murders that had taken place in La Esperanza on Sunday. My site mate lives in La Esperanza, but I hadn’t heard anything about any murders. When I got to work in El Milagro, I asked my counterparts about the murders and they said one of them had in fact happened right outside our center at 2:00 pm on Sunday afternoon. That gang members from La Esperanza had come to El Milagro to kill someone from the prison. Supposedly, four innocent people were killed in the violence of the weekend. Many of my kiddies said they had seen the body. They even took me outside to see the blood stains on the road and on the walls. It was pretty scary and it made me worry about my own personal safety. I called Peace Corps with the additional news but they just told me to be on alert, like I could predict when a shoot out was about to begin!
February 28, 2005
Today was my day to catch up on sleep, straighten up a bit, and take Nela to get her vaccinations. I have had a busy last couple of days.
Last Monday, I received an email from the Peace Corps Director saying that there will be a group of American doctors in Trujillo and they needed a translator. Definitely intrigued, I stopped by their hotel (which just happened to be about 5 blocks from my house) on Tuesday and spoke with the man-in-charge’s wife. By Wednesday, I had heard back from them and planned to start an early day with the group on Friday. I arrived at 7:00 am, not sure what to expect, and found 65 people eating a vegan-approved breakfast, readying themselves to board a huge passenger bus. After a few introductions the director of the group told me I would be helping out in the clinic. On the hour bus ride to Casa Grande, I discovered it was not only a medical effort, but a mission group, in conjunction with a construction crew. At the clinic (a public hospital that has long since lost its funding), I was put in charge of organizing the mob waiting to see the doctors and answering general questions. I found that most of the Peruvian people appeared to be in generally good health, but anxious to see the American doctors. In appearance and by local standards many of the people in attendance did not seem to be in poverty. The doctors weren’t concerned; they wanted to offer free medical services to everybody in the community regardless of status. There was also a dental clinic and pharmacy.
I was able to volunteer and help a doctor assist a particular old woman of nose cancer. He wants to foot the entire bill for her to see a specialist/plastic surgeon to have the area treated. I told them both I could coordinate her treatment and payment of the services. The little old lady just cried in my arms as she was leaving.
We finished up the day at the clinic and headed to the church construction site. The crew had built a new church and playground for the community. Along the front wall of the only just constructed church flew the Peruvian and American flags. To see the red, white, and blue symbol almost brought tears to my eyes. In a community that needed so much, it made me newly appreciative and so proud for all that I have.
It was quite amazing to see what the construction crew had completed in just 2 weeks. There was already a multitude outside the church and the community members were approaching in groves. We entered the church and were immediately locked in; it was a weird feeling, almost like lab rats on display, as all the townspeople peered in from the metal grates on the windows. The mission group then organized a give-away of toys, toothbrushes, and various supplies. The townspeople filed through the church to collect the gifts in what looked to me in an orderly fashion. Accounts from some of the volunteers outside said it was a lot more chaotic.
The mayor was in attendance and made a speech of thanks for all the volunteers had done. There was also a band and a TV crew. We were served bottled Cokes then sent on our way. The send-off almost felt like we were famous, with waves, screams, kids jumping and moto-taxis running after the bus until we made our way out of town.
When we got back to the hotel, I was invited to dinner and was once again treated to a no meat product meal and I have to admit it was all very tasty. I then had the opportunity to chat more with the members of the group. One of the teenagers said she knew I was a Peace Corps Volunteer when she saw me, that there is a certain look to a volunteer. What is that supposed to mean? I found that most had traveled abroad before and had a consciousness about life in third world countries and in my opinion with their hearts in the right place. I stayed for a worship service and only then discovered it was a Seven Day Adventist Mission group. A little surprised that I knew several of the hymns sung, I was asked if I had anything to contribute. I told the group it had been a wonderful day and I had been so blessed; it was so true. I had so enjoyed getting to know this group from my country, helping others, and worshiping God. I realized quickly that it’s not the denomination of the church but the common belief in God that is important.
I really clicked with one of the medical workers, a physician assistant. We exchanged stories of living in Mexico and Latin American life. She was there with her oldest daughter, who would be traveling to Chile from Lima to do a study abroad semester. She was intrigued by my stories of El Milagro and immediately began her own personal campaign to have all the left over medicines and supplies be donated to me and my site.
On Saturday, I hung with some of the women by the hotel pool. It was a great day to just be with people of my own culture and language. Nela was a big hit as well. Later that night, I gave a photo presentation of El Milagro to the entire group and was a little amazed at the complete attention they gave me and the onslaught of questions. After a year of working in El Milagro, I think I have become a bit jaded to the reality of the situation. Extremely stirred, many of them gave money and said to put it toward the community. I ended up with somewhere around 700 soles and the promise of leftover supplies.
I showed up on Sunday morning to the stir of everyone getting ready to leave for Machu Picchu. I couldn’t believe the amount of stuff they were giving me! It filled the entire bed of a truck – fruit, vegetables, bread, medicine, toothbrushes, clothes and more. One guy even gave me a sack of new, clean towels that he said to keep for myself. It was tearful as I stood on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to the group. In a very short time, I felt I had grown close to several of them and would definitely hate to see them go.
Since YMCA had scheduled a field trip with the families of El Milagro for the afternoon, I was immediately able to give our families the perishable food from the mission group.
February 21, 2005
I have been slacking in my journaling. Over two weeks have gone by with no written documentation about my experiences here in loco Trujillo. How to sum it all up? I continue to run each morning, 6 days a week, 2-3 miles. I love my puppy, Nela, even if I feel like all I do is clean up after her. My work continues to be satisfying, if a little monotonous. With earring making and English classes, I have managed to keep a pretty consistent schedule. When I get bored, I head to the beach and visit my Holland friends, shop around downtown, or watch a movie at the cinema.
Yesterday can be marked as one of the best days of my life. I speak the truth. I hope to give it justice as I describe the extraordinary yet strangely ordinary events. It actually began two nights ago, when I responded to a request to visit an Returned Peace Corps Volunteer who had made her way back to Latin America and to Trujillo on her bicycle from Alaska, an 8 month cycling endeavor. She was staying in town with a bike repairman and his family. When I entered the bike shop (in a very shady part of Trujillo), I found a home in chaos. Several young guys were messing with a couple of bikes, a somewhat loco European was mumbling on the couch, a little girl grabbed Nela from my arms and ran off, and 2 men kissed my cheek and told me to have a seat (in English) along side two Brazilians. I was immediately welcomed by the senora of the house with warm hugs and a piece of Tres Leches cake. They didn’t even know my name or why I was there! After inquiring about my friend, they said she had gone grocery shopping, but would return soon. Thinking I could wait for a while, I was introduced to two Australian guys where I immediately fell in love – their accents are absolutely heart-swooning. Next I met two Americans who looked to have fallen out of a dumpster. Absolutely filthy, with tattoos, chains, and holes the size of half dollars in their ears, they were a bit intimidating and the traveling companions of my RPCV friend. The Brazilians were a bit daunting as well with their questions in a mix of English and accented Spanish, but the owner and his family couldn’t have been sweeter people. They open the doors of their home to passing-through cyclists. Anyone can just camp out on the floor; use the kitchen, shower, or chill out. They have scrap books filled to the brim with photos and notes from previous guests. After waiting for half an hour and my friend not appearing, I decided to head out, but not before I was invited to bike with the crowd to Huanchaco on the following day. Making sure they knew I hadn’t been on a bike since I was 12 and had no experience what-so-ever in cycling, they assured me it was a casual ride and to show up in shorts and they would provide the rest.
I showed up at 10:00 am the next morning, ready to ride. I was a little surprised to see the amount of people that would be going with us. I was given a bike and helmet as the others decked themselves out in all their cycling gear. It looked like they were preparing for the Tour de France. After some typical Peruvian lazing around, we finally headed out. My bike was comfortable and I just prayed not to wreck or something else as dreadfully embarrassing. I was the only novice in the group. After a few kilometers, I realized we were not heading toward the beach but toward the mountains of La Libertad. Someone happened to call out that the plans had changed and we would be heading northeast. Great, what have I gotten myself into! 21 kilometers (about 13 miles) later, I had found out. Muscles I didn’t even know existed in my back were hurting, nothing could compare to the pain in my ‘rear’ area, not to mention that a couple of fingers on my left hand were numb. We had completed the 21 kilometers without stopping and it took us almost two hours. Several of us rested at a little restaurant on the side of the road, while a few of the more seasoned cyclists traveled on up the road. I felt good! I had just biked along with ‘professional’ cyclists and held my own. I want my own bike and told Lucho, the owner, my thoughts. He assured me he could hook me up. This is so fun.
Dreading the descent a bit, I was even more discouraged to hear that we had a headwind. Not really understanding what that meant, I quickly realized it is when the wind is coming into your face and makes you feel as if you’re peddling for absolutely nothing and traveling backwards. My volunteer was a real trooper and helped me by giving me advice how to relieve a bit the ache in my tail while also dealing with the wind. When another girl got a flat tire and we had to stop, I couldn’t have been more relieved. I was a dead woman barely standing, just praying to God to give me the strength to finish. You have never been a quitter, I told myself and would make it back to Trujillo if it killed me. And you know what? I made it! I cruised back into Trujillo around 4:00 pm with the knowledge I had just biked 42 kilometers (about 26 miles) and lived to tell about it.
After we got back, Lucho told me he was impressed that I made it. Everyone was asking me how I felt and I rambled off the various aches and they all laughed in memory of their own pains.
Plans were then made for later in the evening to celebrate one of the American guys 21st birthday. My volunteer friend and the two American guys were interested in seeing El Milagro, so we headed to the landfill. Not the least bit intimidated, the guys said they like trash and that they had even slept in a dumpster. They were definitely going to fit in with their dirty clothes and smelly bodies!
This visit to the actual landfill became the best I have had so far. I experienced a moment as I walked into the trash to great one of my mothers where I realized I had grown as a person -- the trash didn’t gross me out as it did before. I could actually grasp how the families worked there. I could truly imagine having to do it myself if push came to shove. I would never want to HAVE TO, of course, but I knew I could. Nine months ago, I remember only wanting to put the thoughts of the landfill and what the families do there to the farthest part of my memory and continue on with my life outside of the reality of El Milagro. We talked with some of the families at work and chatted with a couple of kids I knew who were playing along side the road. My volunteer friend asked me if it bothered me to get kisses from the kids. Her question surprised me. I hadn’t even thought about it. It hadn’t bothered me a bit to hold, hug, or kiss any of the little kiddies there. In fact, it made me feel loved and welcome to hold the hand of the lady working in the trash as we conversed. I remember a time when it did bother me, when I was so worried about lice, sickness, and danger, that I cried myself to sleep.
We continued our descent from the landfill and ended up taking photos and talking with various families along the way. The kids were amazed at the bicycle trip my visitors had undertaken, but I think the holes in their ears impressed them more. I was happy to share with these 3 Americans the reality of El Milagro that so many individuals do not know exists, but what made me even happier was the way these particular Americans played and talked with my families, with respect and affection.
After a trip to the supermarket, we split out ways and I promised to make it back to the bike shop for the birthday party. I found my apartment in disarray from little Nela who had stayed by herself all day. She was so excited to see her mom! After a walk with her, dinner, and a shower, I didn’t think my body was going to be able to make it back out. Shooting down a cup of coffee, I made my way back to the bike shop to find it blaring with 80’s music and the occasional salsa. Speakers taller than me were rocking the place and as usual it was mad chaos. We ate dinner and danced until midnight (I think my salsa/meringue has improved!); then we sang Happy Birthday and cut the homemade chocolate cake that everyone just dug into with their hands. I made it home by 3:30 am to wake up at 4:30 with the worst cramps in both my arms and legs. Three Tylenols later as I curled up beside Nela, I realized my left hand was still numb and I had just had the utmost greatest day.
February 3, 2005
I continue to do my daily running, I have made it to the 3 mile a day mark, but today I only ran 2. Later this afternoon, I had somewhat of an epiphany. I am the healthiest that I have ever been in my life, I think. I exercise daily, including walking wherever I need to go. I eat organic, fresh, unprocessed food that includes lots of fruits and vegetables. I drink very little caffeine, but drink lots of water. I have time for hobbies that I have long forgotten. Spiritually, I have never been this close to God. I have a great sense of self. I don’t smoke and I rarely drink. That’s something, in my book.
Nela continues to be a handful. While I was cooking my lunch today (of refried black beans, steak, and spicy salsa), she ransacked the whole house. She had gotten into my toilet paper staff and made a mess of 4 brand new rolls. She is doing extremely well walking on her leash. We are waiting for a package from the states with a real harness and leash before we get into some serious running/walking together.
My work in El Milagro is pretty heavy right now. We are trying to finish up the year-end evaluations, which simply means inputting data from each particular family into an excel document. It is time consuming, monotonous, and tedious. Not my favorite part of the job. However, my little hobby of making earrings has turned into a great small business project for my mother’s club. I have had 4 sessions with them and they love making them; they have picked it up so quickly. We are now stepping into the selling and marketing of our product. Boy, I should have taken at least one business class in college. I am at a loss here.
January 29, 2005
Today I got up late and tried to run in the stadium, but there was a soccer game, so I just ended up walking around the outside for 25 minutes. I guess that is better than nothing.
Around 11:00, I went to El Milagro. Just a few kids were hanging around, so I prepared 4 activities for tomorrow’s birthday party. There have been some major cuts in funding for our program, so our parties, activities, employees are dwindling rapidly. It has been cut more than 50%, so the more that us volunteers can do the better.
I got back home around 1:30. Nela was sitting quietly in her crate and was excited to see me. She is a bundle of energy for about an hour, and then she has to nap. The house training is coming along. I have read on the internet about how to train your puppy, so hopefully I am training her correctly. I also read something about psychologically damaging your dog if you mess up. Wish me luck.
Around 4:00, Nela and I set out on our first walk together, where she actually did some of the walking. I fashioned a leash out of some rope that I had and attached it to her new pink collar. She was a little put off by it at first, but ended up walking a good ways on her make-shift leash.
January 27, 2005
I went shopping with my host sister today. We bought me wicker furniture for my living room and a dog crate for Nela. The furniture is the cheapest thing I could find, but I think it will do nicely. Nela’s crate is a good size and (I hope!) will be good for traveling. It’s also a good resting place for her when I have to leave her at home alone.
Later this afternoon, my counterpart came by to work on El Milagro evaluations.
I put Nela in her crate while I went to Internet, she cried and cried. This pup is breaking my heart.
January 24, 2005
I am the new proud mom of, Kanela, a beautiful, female 7-week-old American Cocker Spaniel puppy! She is just what I needed. My counterpart came by my house to let me know that she had met a lady who was selling puppies; she knew I had been searching for the perfect puppy for months. As soon as I saw her, I knew I would be taking her home with me. At 120 soles (about 40 US dollars) she was a steal for a pure bred dog. I took her immediately to the vet’s office, where he gave her first shots and pronounced her fit as a fiddle.
January 23, 2005
So, it has turned out to be a great weekend; I had been worried.
On Saturday morning, I was really apprehensive that I would be bored for the next couple of days. I didn’t have a thing planned to do. Boredom, I have found is the enemy here. However, things took a turn for the better. After my really tough (10 lap run, 4 lap walk, 10 sets of steps, and 75 crunches) workout, I went to my site mate’s house to pick up a gas stove. I have been using an electrical hot plate to do all my cooking and it’s just too much for the outlets. I almost had a house fire the other day! She and I then went downtown to a book fair; it was impressive but the heat at midday was killing me. So, I came home to cook my lunch. I had bought some hamburger meat the night before but to my surprise when I pulled it out of the fridge to cook, it was green. Not thinking that the whole kilo of meat was lost, I just picked the green stuff off and tossed the rest in my frying pan. I thought that maybe I could cook off the microbes. Well…it didn’t work and I just managed to stick up my kitchen with rank meat. More than a little frustrated, I went down the street for my lunch and had to settle for what was left of the day’s menu. At this point, I was nearly to tears with frustration, but managed to make it to my bed for a much-needed siesta.
I woke up to someone knocking at my door. It was my friend, Carla, and she wanted to know if I would like to go out dancing later. I was so happy! She had moved and is now my neighbor, definitely within walking distance, so that is cool to have a friend so close by.
Just as I was closing the door, my cell phone rang and two of my volunteer buddies were passing through Trujillo and wanted to meet for dinner. So, they showered at my place and then we went for grilled chicken. It was good to chat and hang with them for a couple of hours.
By the time they left, it was time to get ready to go out for the night. It was fun to at last get an opportunity to dress up. Carla stopped by to pick me up and we headed to a club in downtown around 11:00pm. The dancing didn’t get started until after midnight. We met up with 4 more of her friends and even got treated to the VIP section of the club because one her friends is girlfriend to a waiter. We ended up having a great time. I practiced my salsa and meringue and had the opportunity to meet some new people.
Today, I had a new kind of problem. I had told 3 different people that I would meet them at the same time. What to do? It worked itself all out in the end. The first guy is a friend of PC and was coming to work on my laptop (my CD/DVD burner is shot), the second guy is a Canadian that is here for a couple of weeks and wants to volunteer in El Milagro, and the third guy said he would call me to go to a movie. Well, after I had waited over 45 minutes for #1, he called and said he had an emergency and wouldn’t be able to make it to my house. Not hearing from #3, I decided to head to the beach to meet up with #2. We met at Otra Cosa, the vegetarian restaurant my friends from Holland have there. We (a German volunteer, my new Canadian friend, and 3 people from Holland, and me) sat on the porch and chatted about Trujillo’s club scene, surfing, travel, and other volunteer experiences. We even made plans to meet on Friday for English class in El Milagro with the kiddies and possibly on Saturday to go out dancing. One of the best things that came out of the conversation is my plans to take surfing lessons. Seems they are all into surfing, yet are all fairly new at it as well, and know a Peruvian dude who gives lessons. Sort of an exchange program, we share about our personal cultures, I can provide them with a place to volunteer in El Milagro, and they can help me learn to surf. The afternoon turned out to be super fun -- it was an international exchange of ideas and a great way to watch the sun set on the Pacific Ocean.
Just as I got off the combi from Huanchaco, #3 called. He just wanted to say hello and that he was sorry for not calling sooner. Sure, I told him, a movie later in the week would be a great.
January 18, 2005
I stayed up late last night finishing my book. So, I didn’t get to the track to run until 10:30 am. The gate was locked, but I just decided to knock. The watchman came after a few rounds of pounding but looked pleased to see me. He said there was no problem, just knock when the gate is closed. I was the only person in the stadium, so I strapped on my MP3 player, ran 8 laps, did 10 sets of steps, then finished off my workout with 50 crunches. Just as I sat up from my last crunch, a man was peering down at me. Since I was on the far end of the field, he had to of made the trip just to see me. He promptly propped down beside me and began to chat. I am thinking to myself… “What nerve! Did I ask for company?” He goes on to ask for my name and if I was American. He even asked for my address and I told him I didn’t think that was safe. He had just approached me, I didn’t know him, and didn’t think that would be a good idea. He started stumbling saying that he is an Evangelist and just wanted to spread the word of God. He also mentioned that he worked in the stadium and hadn’t been paid in 4 months. I can respect his efforts, but his manner was definitely putting me on guard. I told him I had to go and he said that he was also a runner and that tomorrow maybe we could run together. I told him no that I like to run alone with my music. Peruvian men, they kill me sometimes.
January 17, 2005
I slept a full 12 hours last night. I think it is the heat; it just seems to suck the life out of me. I stay tired all the time. Around 10:00, I headed to the track for my exercise. I ended up walking 10 laps, then running 10 sets of steps. Thought a change from my usual might do me some good.
I took my dirty clothes to the laundry mat and then went to the country club for some pool fun and sunshine. I read a Nora Roberts smut novel, watched the teenagers flirt, and just generally enjoyed baking myself for a couple of hours. I stopped by the grocery store for my lunch. When I got back to my place, I made myself a salad and lemon-pepper chicken breast.
At 5:00, I went to my weekly coordination meeting at my counterpart’s house. We discussed the Rotary project ideas and other projects that I have in mind. Afterwards, I picked up my clean laundry and a bag of ice (I didn’t even know they sold such until last week!) on the way home. Who would have ever thought that putting away super-fresh clothes while sipping a cold, icy diet Pepsi would have ever made me this happy?
January 16, 2005
I met up with a Peruvian guy today. We went to the beach, had ceviche for lunch, and stayed until sunset. He’s a lawyer and just got back from working on a cruise ship where he spent some time in California. He seems like a nice guy, was upfront about wanting to practice his English, but laid back. We are going out again this week.
I walked 3.78 miles today. I am liking this pedometer thing.
Well, I am definitely a spoiled Peace Corps city girl. I just got internet in my room, or at least part time. My host brother has a ‘pirated’ internet line in his accountant’s office and has put a connection into my room. Granted it’s not 24/7 and I have to wait until the office is closed to use the internet, but I am in heaven. The world at my fingertips!
March 9, 2005
My counterpart and I spent 4 solid hours doing inventory of all the medicines left by the missionaries. Oh the great projects we can do!
I went to El Milagro in the afternoon, a bit nervous about being the only YMCA personnel present. I had been the only person in the center before but of late my counterparts have been giving me this responsibility more and more, especially in the afternoons. I realized the growth I had made in the time I have been here. My counterparts trust me to open the center, give classes, help the families that stop in, and then close the center for the day. I remember being scared to walk down the street at first, much less confidant enough to hear the problems of one of our mothers or lead a group of kids in their activities. The families see me as a knowledgeable and responsible worker of the center and (finally) I do too.
March 6, 2005
I tested my limits again today with a bike ride around town, to Buenos Aires, then to Huanchaco, around 49 kilometers in all. That’s about 30 miles! My tale was numb by kilometer 10, which I have learned is the secret to getting used to the bike seat. You just lose feeling and don’t worry about it.
March 5, 2005
Looks like I can make my new cycling hobby into a Peace Corps project. Great news for me because I am really enjoying this new activity where I can meet lots of people and get some great exercise. Lucho had organized a kid’s race at a new park in town and he needed my help to assist in the race events. I was in charge of assigning numbers to each of the kids that were going to race and making sure everyone was in their correct category. About 40 kids showed up for the event.
March 4, 2005
Feeling a little blue, I decided to get dressed and head into downtown for lunch at one of the fancy cafes. While I was enjoying my meal, a guy (obviously American) asked me if he could share my table. What a coincidence – he was also from Georgia and a cyclist. We made plans to meet back up later and go to the Lucho’s bike shop.
I made it to El Milagro in the afternoon to have an English class with the other German volunteer. We had decided to do a class on fruit and brought actual fruit to help with the lesson. The kids really seemed to enjoy it all and learned some new vocabulary words as well. At the end, we surprised them with a watermelon eating contest.
I met back up with the Georgian and we ventured to Lucho’s. As usual, present were a motley group of people: a couple from Belgium, several Peruvians, and the crazy French guy. We made plans to help out with a children’s bike ride on the next day. We ventured to my favorite chicken place for dinner and enjoyed talk of the South and some great sangria.
March 2, 2005
During our home visits in El Milagro today, we came across the wake of one of the murdered victims. The ladies there were proclaiming innocent, the victim of the gangs violence. My counterpart insisted he had to be involved if he was associated with the gangs. It still made me nervous to know that such violence had occurred so close to where I work everyday.
March 1, 2005
I received a disturbing phone call from my Peace Corps boss today. He wanted to know about 8 murders that had taken place in La Esperanza on Sunday. My site mate lives in La Esperanza, but I hadn’t heard anything about any murders. When I got to work in El Milagro, I asked my counterparts about the murders and they said one of them had in fact happened right outside our center at 2:00 pm on Sunday afternoon. That gang members from La Esperanza had come to El Milagro to kill someone from the prison. Supposedly, four innocent people were killed in the violence of the weekend. Many of my kiddies said they had seen the body. They even took me outside to see the blood stains on the road and on the walls. It was pretty scary and it made me worry about my own personal safety. I called Peace Corps with the additional news but they just told me to be on alert, like I could predict when a shoot out was about to begin!
February 28, 2005
Today was my day to catch up on sleep, straighten up a bit, and take Nela to get her vaccinations. I have had a busy last couple of days.
Last Monday, I received an email from the Peace Corps Director saying that there will be a group of American doctors in Trujillo and they needed a translator. Definitely intrigued, I stopped by their hotel (which just happened to be about 5 blocks from my house) on Tuesday and spoke with the man-in-charge’s wife. By Wednesday, I had heard back from them and planned to start an early day with the group on Friday. I arrived at 7:00 am, not sure what to expect, and found 65 people eating a vegan-approved breakfast, readying themselves to board a huge passenger bus. After a few introductions the director of the group told me I would be helping out in the clinic. On the hour bus ride to Casa Grande, I discovered it was not only a medical effort, but a mission group, in conjunction with a construction crew. At the clinic (a public hospital that has long since lost its funding), I was put in charge of organizing the mob waiting to see the doctors and answering general questions. I found that most of the Peruvian people appeared to be in generally good health, but anxious to see the American doctors. In appearance and by local standards many of the people in attendance did not seem to be in poverty. The doctors weren’t concerned; they wanted to offer free medical services to everybody in the community regardless of status. There was also a dental clinic and pharmacy.
I was able to volunteer and help a doctor assist a particular old woman of nose cancer. He wants to foot the entire bill for her to see a specialist/plastic surgeon to have the area treated. I told them both I could coordinate her treatment and payment of the services. The little old lady just cried in my arms as she was leaving.
We finished up the day at the clinic and headed to the church construction site. The crew had built a new church and playground for the community. Along the front wall of the only just constructed church flew the Peruvian and American flags. To see the red, white, and blue symbol almost brought tears to my eyes. In a community that needed so much, it made me newly appreciative and so proud for all that I have.
It was quite amazing to see what the construction crew had completed in just 2 weeks. There was already a multitude outside the church and the community members were approaching in groves. We entered the church and were immediately locked in; it was a weird feeling, almost like lab rats on display, as all the townspeople peered in from the metal grates on the windows. The mission group then organized a give-away of toys, toothbrushes, and various supplies. The townspeople filed through the church to collect the gifts in what looked to me in an orderly fashion. Accounts from some of the volunteers outside said it was a lot more chaotic.
The mayor was in attendance and made a speech of thanks for all the volunteers had done. There was also a band and a TV crew. We were served bottled Cokes then sent on our way. The send-off almost felt like we were famous, with waves, screams, kids jumping and moto-taxis running after the bus until we made our way out of town.
When we got back to the hotel, I was invited to dinner and was once again treated to a no meat product meal and I have to admit it was all very tasty. I then had the opportunity to chat more with the members of the group. One of the teenagers said she knew I was a Peace Corps Volunteer when she saw me, that there is a certain look to a volunteer. What is that supposed to mean? I found that most had traveled abroad before and had a consciousness about life in third world countries and in my opinion with their hearts in the right place. I stayed for a worship service and only then discovered it was a Seven Day Adventist Mission group. A little surprised that I knew several of the hymns sung, I was asked if I had anything to contribute. I told the group it had been a wonderful day and I had been so blessed; it was so true. I had so enjoyed getting to know this group from my country, helping others, and worshiping God. I realized quickly that it’s not the denomination of the church but the common belief in God that is important.
I really clicked with one of the medical workers, a physician assistant. We exchanged stories of living in Mexico and Latin American life. She was there with her oldest daughter, who would be traveling to Chile from Lima to do a study abroad semester. She was intrigued by my stories of El Milagro and immediately began her own personal campaign to have all the left over medicines and supplies be donated to me and my site.
On Saturday, I hung with some of the women by the hotel pool. It was a great day to just be with people of my own culture and language. Nela was a big hit as well. Later that night, I gave a photo presentation of El Milagro to the entire group and was a little amazed at the complete attention they gave me and the onslaught of questions. After a year of working in El Milagro, I think I have become a bit jaded to the reality of the situation. Extremely stirred, many of them gave money and said to put it toward the community. I ended up with somewhere around 700 soles and the promise of leftover supplies.
I showed up on Sunday morning to the stir of everyone getting ready to leave for Machu Picchu. I couldn’t believe the amount of stuff they were giving me! It filled the entire bed of a truck – fruit, vegetables, bread, medicine, toothbrushes, clothes and more. One guy even gave me a sack of new, clean towels that he said to keep for myself. It was tearful as I stood on the sidewalk and waved goodbye to the group. In a very short time, I felt I had grown close to several of them and would definitely hate to see them go.
Since YMCA had scheduled a field trip with the families of El Milagro for the afternoon, I was immediately able to give our families the perishable food from the mission group.
February 21, 2005
I have been slacking in my journaling. Over two weeks have gone by with no written documentation about my experiences here in loco Trujillo. How to sum it all up? I continue to run each morning, 6 days a week, 2-3 miles. I love my puppy, Nela, even if I feel like all I do is clean up after her. My work continues to be satisfying, if a little monotonous. With earring making and English classes, I have managed to keep a pretty consistent schedule. When I get bored, I head to the beach and visit my Holland friends, shop around downtown, or watch a movie at the cinema.
Yesterday can be marked as one of the best days of my life. I speak the truth. I hope to give it justice as I describe the extraordinary yet strangely ordinary events. It actually began two nights ago, when I responded to a request to visit an Returned Peace Corps Volunteer who had made her way back to Latin America and to Trujillo on her bicycle from Alaska, an 8 month cycling endeavor. She was staying in town with a bike repairman and his family. When I entered the bike shop (in a very shady part of Trujillo), I found a home in chaos. Several young guys were messing with a couple of bikes, a somewhat loco European was mumbling on the couch, a little girl grabbed Nela from my arms and ran off, and 2 men kissed my cheek and told me to have a seat (in English) along side two Brazilians. I was immediately welcomed by the senora of the house with warm hugs and a piece of Tres Leches cake. They didn’t even know my name or why I was there! After inquiring about my friend, they said she had gone grocery shopping, but would return soon. Thinking I could wait for a while, I was introduced to two Australian guys where I immediately fell in love – their accents are absolutely heart-swooning. Next I met two Americans who looked to have fallen out of a dumpster. Absolutely filthy, with tattoos, chains, and holes the size of half dollars in their ears, they were a bit intimidating and the traveling companions of my RPCV friend. The Brazilians were a bit daunting as well with their questions in a mix of English and accented Spanish, but the owner and his family couldn’t have been sweeter people. They open the doors of their home to passing-through cyclists. Anyone can just camp out on the floor; use the kitchen, shower, or chill out. They have scrap books filled to the brim with photos and notes from previous guests. After waiting for half an hour and my friend not appearing, I decided to head out, but not before I was invited to bike with the crowd to Huanchaco on the following day. Making sure they knew I hadn’t been on a bike since I was 12 and had no experience what-so-ever in cycling, they assured me it was a casual ride and to show up in shorts and they would provide the rest.
I showed up at 10:00 am the next morning, ready to ride. I was a little surprised to see the amount of people that would be going with us. I was given a bike and helmet as the others decked themselves out in all their cycling gear. It looked like they were preparing for the Tour de France. After some typical Peruvian lazing around, we finally headed out. My bike was comfortable and I just prayed not to wreck or something else as dreadfully embarrassing. I was the only novice in the group. After a few kilometers, I realized we were not heading toward the beach but toward the mountains of La Libertad. Someone happened to call out that the plans had changed and we would be heading northeast. Great, what have I gotten myself into! 21 kilometers (about 13 miles) later, I had found out. Muscles I didn’t even know existed in my back were hurting, nothing could compare to the pain in my ‘rear’ area, not to mention that a couple of fingers on my left hand were numb. We had completed the 21 kilometers without stopping and it took us almost two hours. Several of us rested at a little restaurant on the side of the road, while a few of the more seasoned cyclists traveled on up the road. I felt good! I had just biked along with ‘professional’ cyclists and held my own. I want my own bike and told Lucho, the owner, my thoughts. He assured me he could hook me up. This is so fun.
Dreading the descent a bit, I was even more discouraged to hear that we had a headwind. Not really understanding what that meant, I quickly realized it is when the wind is coming into your face and makes you feel as if you’re peddling for absolutely nothing and traveling backwards. My volunteer was a real trooper and helped me by giving me advice how to relieve a bit the ache in my tail while also dealing with the wind. When another girl got a flat tire and we had to stop, I couldn’t have been more relieved. I was a dead woman barely standing, just praying to God to give me the strength to finish. You have never been a quitter, I told myself and would make it back to Trujillo if it killed me. And you know what? I made it! I cruised back into Trujillo around 4:00 pm with the knowledge I had just biked 42 kilometers (about 26 miles) and lived to tell about it.
After we got back, Lucho told me he was impressed that I made it. Everyone was asking me how I felt and I rambled off the various aches and they all laughed in memory of their own pains.
Plans were then made for later in the evening to celebrate one of the American guys 21st birthday. My volunteer friend and the two American guys were interested in seeing El Milagro, so we headed to the landfill. Not the least bit intimidated, the guys said they like trash and that they had even slept in a dumpster. They were definitely going to fit in with their dirty clothes and smelly bodies!
This visit to the actual landfill became the best I have had so far. I experienced a moment as I walked into the trash to great one of my mothers where I realized I had grown as a person -- the trash didn’t gross me out as it did before. I could actually grasp how the families worked there. I could truly imagine having to do it myself if push came to shove. I would never want to HAVE TO, of course, but I knew I could. Nine months ago, I remember only wanting to put the thoughts of the landfill and what the families do there to the farthest part of my memory and continue on with my life outside of the reality of El Milagro. We talked with some of the families at work and chatted with a couple of kids I knew who were playing along side the road. My volunteer friend asked me if it bothered me to get kisses from the kids. Her question surprised me. I hadn’t even thought about it. It hadn’t bothered me a bit to hold, hug, or kiss any of the little kiddies there. In fact, it made me feel loved and welcome to hold the hand of the lady working in the trash as we conversed. I remember a time when it did bother me, when I was so worried about lice, sickness, and danger, that I cried myself to sleep.
We continued our descent from the landfill and ended up taking photos and talking with various families along the way. The kids were amazed at the bicycle trip my visitors had undertaken, but I think the holes in their ears impressed them more. I was happy to share with these 3 Americans the reality of El Milagro that so many individuals do not know exists, but what made me even happier was the way these particular Americans played and talked with my families, with respect and affection.
After a trip to the supermarket, we split out ways and I promised to make it back to the bike shop for the birthday party. I found my apartment in disarray from little Nela who had stayed by herself all day. She was so excited to see her mom! After a walk with her, dinner, and a shower, I didn’t think my body was going to be able to make it back out. Shooting down a cup of coffee, I made my way back to the bike shop to find it blaring with 80’s music and the occasional salsa. Speakers taller than me were rocking the place and as usual it was mad chaos. We ate dinner and danced until midnight (I think my salsa/meringue has improved!); then we sang Happy Birthday and cut the homemade chocolate cake that everyone just dug into with their hands. I made it home by 3:30 am to wake up at 4:30 with the worst cramps in both my arms and legs. Three Tylenols later as I curled up beside Nela, I realized my left hand was still numb and I had just had the utmost greatest day.
February 3, 2005
I continue to do my daily running, I have made it to the 3 mile a day mark, but today I only ran 2. Later this afternoon, I had somewhat of an epiphany. I am the healthiest that I have ever been in my life, I think. I exercise daily, including walking wherever I need to go. I eat organic, fresh, unprocessed food that includes lots of fruits and vegetables. I drink very little caffeine, but drink lots of water. I have time for hobbies that I have long forgotten. Spiritually, I have never been this close to God. I have a great sense of self. I don’t smoke and I rarely drink. That’s something, in my book.
Nela continues to be a handful. While I was cooking my lunch today (of refried black beans, steak, and spicy salsa), she ransacked the whole house. She had gotten into my toilet paper staff and made a mess of 4 brand new rolls. She is doing extremely well walking on her leash. We are waiting for a package from the states with a real harness and leash before we get into some serious running/walking together.
My work in El Milagro is pretty heavy right now. We are trying to finish up the year-end evaluations, which simply means inputting data from each particular family into an excel document. It is time consuming, monotonous, and tedious. Not my favorite part of the job. However, my little hobby of making earrings has turned into a great small business project for my mother’s club. I have had 4 sessions with them and they love making them; they have picked it up so quickly. We are now stepping into the selling and marketing of our product. Boy, I should have taken at least one business class in college. I am at a loss here.
January 29, 2005
Today I got up late and tried to run in the stadium, but there was a soccer game, so I just ended up walking around the outside for 25 minutes. I guess that is better than nothing.
Around 11:00, I went to El Milagro. Just a few kids were hanging around, so I prepared 4 activities for tomorrow’s birthday party. There have been some major cuts in funding for our program, so our parties, activities, employees are dwindling rapidly. It has been cut more than 50%, so the more that us volunteers can do the better.
I got back home around 1:30. Nela was sitting quietly in her crate and was excited to see me. She is a bundle of energy for about an hour, and then she has to nap. The house training is coming along. I have read on the internet about how to train your puppy, so hopefully I am training her correctly. I also read something about psychologically damaging your dog if you mess up. Wish me luck.
Around 4:00, Nela and I set out on our first walk together, where she actually did some of the walking. I fashioned a leash out of some rope that I had and attached it to her new pink collar. She was a little put off by it at first, but ended up walking a good ways on her make-shift leash.
January 27, 2005
I went shopping with my host sister today. We bought me wicker furniture for my living room and a dog crate for Nela. The furniture is the cheapest thing I could find, but I think it will do nicely. Nela’s crate is a good size and (I hope!) will be good for traveling. It’s also a good resting place for her when I have to leave her at home alone.
Later this afternoon, my counterpart came by to work on El Milagro evaluations.
I put Nela in her crate while I went to Internet, she cried and cried. This pup is breaking my heart.
January 24, 2005
I am the new proud mom of, Kanela, a beautiful, female 7-week-old American Cocker Spaniel puppy! She is just what I needed. My counterpart came by my house to let me know that she had met a lady who was selling puppies; she knew I had been searching for the perfect puppy for months. As soon as I saw her, I knew I would be taking her home with me. At 120 soles (about 40 US dollars) she was a steal for a pure bred dog. I took her immediately to the vet’s office, where he gave her first shots and pronounced her fit as a fiddle.
January 23, 2005
So, it has turned out to be a great weekend; I had been worried.
On Saturday morning, I was really apprehensive that I would be bored for the next couple of days. I didn’t have a thing planned to do. Boredom, I have found is the enemy here. However, things took a turn for the better. After my really tough (10 lap run, 4 lap walk, 10 sets of steps, and 75 crunches) workout, I went to my site mate’s house to pick up a gas stove. I have been using an electrical hot plate to do all my cooking and it’s just too much for the outlets. I almost had a house fire the other day! She and I then went downtown to a book fair; it was impressive but the heat at midday was killing me. So, I came home to cook my lunch. I had bought some hamburger meat the night before but to my surprise when I pulled it out of the fridge to cook, it was green. Not thinking that the whole kilo of meat was lost, I just picked the green stuff off and tossed the rest in my frying pan. I thought that maybe I could cook off the microbes. Well…it didn’t work and I just managed to stick up my kitchen with rank meat. More than a little frustrated, I went down the street for my lunch and had to settle for what was left of the day’s menu. At this point, I was nearly to tears with frustration, but managed to make it to my bed for a much-needed siesta.
I woke up to someone knocking at my door. It was my friend, Carla, and she wanted to know if I would like to go out dancing later. I was so happy! She had moved and is now my neighbor, definitely within walking distance, so that is cool to have a friend so close by.
Just as I was closing the door, my cell phone rang and two of my volunteer buddies were passing through Trujillo and wanted to meet for dinner. So, they showered at my place and then we went for grilled chicken. It was good to chat and hang with them for a couple of hours.
By the time they left, it was time to get ready to go out for the night. It was fun to at last get an opportunity to dress up. Carla stopped by to pick me up and we headed to a club in downtown around 11:00pm. The dancing didn’t get started until after midnight. We met up with 4 more of her friends and even got treated to the VIP section of the club because one her friends is girlfriend to a waiter. We ended up having a great time. I practiced my salsa and meringue and had the opportunity to meet some new people.
Today, I had a new kind of problem. I had told 3 different people that I would meet them at the same time. What to do? It worked itself all out in the end. The first guy is a friend of PC and was coming to work on my laptop (my CD/DVD burner is shot), the second guy is a Canadian that is here for a couple of weeks and wants to volunteer in El Milagro, and the third guy said he would call me to go to a movie. Well, after I had waited over 45 minutes for #1, he called and said he had an emergency and wouldn’t be able to make it to my house. Not hearing from #3, I decided to head to the beach to meet up with #2. We met at Otra Cosa, the vegetarian restaurant my friends from Holland have there. We (a German volunteer, my new Canadian friend, and 3 people from Holland, and me) sat on the porch and chatted about Trujillo’s club scene, surfing, travel, and other volunteer experiences. We even made plans to meet on Friday for English class in El Milagro with the kiddies and possibly on Saturday to go out dancing. One of the best things that came out of the conversation is my plans to take surfing lessons. Seems they are all into surfing, yet are all fairly new at it as well, and know a Peruvian dude who gives lessons. Sort of an exchange program, we share about our personal cultures, I can provide them with a place to volunteer in El Milagro, and they can help me learn to surf. The afternoon turned out to be super fun -- it was an international exchange of ideas and a great way to watch the sun set on the Pacific Ocean.
Just as I got off the combi from Huanchaco, #3 called. He just wanted to say hello and that he was sorry for not calling sooner. Sure, I told him, a movie later in the week would be a great.
January 18, 2005
I stayed up late last night finishing my book. So, I didn’t get to the track to run until 10:30 am. The gate was locked, but I just decided to knock. The watchman came after a few rounds of pounding but looked pleased to see me. He said there was no problem, just knock when the gate is closed. I was the only person in the stadium, so I strapped on my MP3 player, ran 8 laps, did 10 sets of steps, then finished off my workout with 50 crunches. Just as I sat up from my last crunch, a man was peering down at me. Since I was on the far end of the field, he had to of made the trip just to see me. He promptly propped down beside me and began to chat. I am thinking to myself… “What nerve! Did I ask for company?” He goes on to ask for my name and if I was American. He even asked for my address and I told him I didn’t think that was safe. He had just approached me, I didn’t know him, and didn’t think that would be a good idea. He started stumbling saying that he is an Evangelist and just wanted to spread the word of God. He also mentioned that he worked in the stadium and hadn’t been paid in 4 months. I can respect his efforts, but his manner was definitely putting me on guard. I told him I had to go and he said that he was also a runner and that tomorrow maybe we could run together. I told him no that I like to run alone with my music. Peruvian men, they kill me sometimes.
January 17, 2005
I slept a full 12 hours last night. I think it is the heat; it just seems to suck the life out of me. I stay tired all the time. Around 10:00, I headed to the track for my exercise. I ended up walking 10 laps, then running 10 sets of steps. Thought a change from my usual might do me some good.
I took my dirty clothes to the laundry mat and then went to the country club for some pool fun and sunshine. I read a Nora Roberts smut novel, watched the teenagers flirt, and just generally enjoyed baking myself for a couple of hours. I stopped by the grocery store for my lunch. When I got back to my place, I made myself a salad and lemon-pepper chicken breast.
At 5:00, I went to my weekly coordination meeting at my counterpart’s house. We discussed the Rotary project ideas and other projects that I have in mind. Afterwards, I picked up my clean laundry and a bag of ice (I didn’t even know they sold such until last week!) on the way home. Who would have ever thought that putting away super-fresh clothes while sipping a cold, icy diet Pepsi would have ever made me this happy?
January 16, 2005
I met up with a Peruvian guy today. We went to the beach, had ceviche for lunch, and stayed until sunset. He’s a lawyer and just got back from working on a cruise ship where he spent some time in California. He seems like a nice guy, was upfront about wanting to practice his English, but laid back. We are going out again this week.
I walked 3.78 miles today. I am liking this pedometer thing.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Back to Peru
January 15, 2005
I got up this morning again to run. The stadium was closed. I am not sure why; maybe because it was 8:45 am on a Saturday morning. So, I just ran around the outside of the stadium – seven full laps. There were a couple others running as well. On my walk home, I stopped to buy a slice of watermelon and pineapple from a little street vendor. I am sure that the conditions aren’t sanitary, but the fruit is always absolutely delicious.
I took a shower using my hot water, even though it is a constant 80 degrees in my room (even at midnight), with my fan blowing the air around. Maybe in a few days, I will just chill off in a cold shower, but for now I love the hot water. I can’t even complain about the weather, it is ‘right up my alley’ and I am loving every sweat drop that falls!
As I was getting ready to go to work, my host brother, an accountant, invited me to meet one of his clients that is working with a new NGO in Huanchaco. The man was older and seemed important. He told me of this group that wants to help a poor area of town with free schooling and breakfast. He invited me to see the location at that very moment, so we boarded his private car. I know, I was a little nervous, at first. Just getting into a car of a man I have known ten minutes is a little risky. But my host family is friends with him, so I told myself I would be fine. We ventured to Huanchaco to a desolate area beside the main highway where we met with a priest who is in charge of this new project. They showed me the locale and told me of their hopes for the project: a new food pantry, a new health center, and a school. It looks like a good start to a needed community service. Suddenly it dawned on me that they wanted me to help them financially. I explained to them that I can’t offer any financial assistance, but could possible recommend a volunteer be placed there. We exchanged emails/phone numbers and said we would be in contact. I think I may even return tomorrow to a breakfast they are sponsoring for the community.
When I returned my host brother told me that the man was indeed important and was a journalist from the biggest newspaper in Peru. Oh great, I thought. I will probably be in the newspaper tomorrow with a huge headline that reads, “Gringa Gives Tons of Money to New Youth Project” or something else just as false. They did take of photo of us looking at the new property.
Since I haven’t mentioned much about my new host family – I am now living in a three story home, as before. In the first floor, lives the lady of the house with her husband. I haven’t met him yet, but the lady is precious. She is so sweet and caring. I live on the second floor behind the brother’s accountant’s office. He has graciously given me permission to use his office phone/internet whenever the need arises. He has a sweet secretary who is always present; who he said can take phone messages for me when I am out. Behind my room, at the end of the hall, lives my host brother with is family. He is married and has two little babies, one that is two years old and the other that is four months old. Above us, in the third floor, live various students. They rent single rooms and attend the university. I am paying 300 soles per month for rent (that’s kind of high) and for 33 more soles a month I can have cable TV. I may have to just do that. First, I have to buy a TV.
January 14, 2005
I have had a great day today, mostly, because I was able to get into somewhat of a routine that makes me happy. I got up at 8:00 am and decided to run. My first run since before Christmas. I headed over to the stadium (a huge soccer field surrounded by a track) and asked if I could run. The guy at the gate said I had to get permission from the office. At the office, I paid 10 soles for an entrance card for this month. When I got back to the stadium, the guy at the gate said I had signed up for the track team! He says it’s free to use the stadium for running, but I had paid to be a part of the team. Since the team was comprised of adolescents, I told him I just wanted to run. He smiled and advised me not to pay next month. My run was great! I even ran some steps. It was just like being back at home when I ran in high school. No one stared at me nor thought it weird that a woman was exercising. I didn’t even have one cat-call the whole time.
I made my breakfast of bacon and fruit and then headed to El Milagro. The kids were excited to see me and I talked with my counterparts about things that had been happening. Seems, I have a busy schedule coming up. With the school kids out of classes for the summer, they really need activities to keep them occupied. I am also coordinating an international project with a sorority sister of mine back in the states. She is a member of the Rotary and will be donating $1000 to El Milagro. I can’t even imagine us getting that kind of money here. My counterparts are super excited and started rambling off what we could buy with the money – books, materials, bookcases, and the list just goes on and on. My job is to get in contact with a particular Rotary Club here and coordinate with them about the funds.
Another activity that I have going on with work is teaching how to make earrings. I have been able to have two sessions and it is a huge hit. The mothers especially love it and they like the end product, a pair of cute earrings to wear home. I need to think of other things we can make as a group, something that can make them a profit. I need to consult my books.
I came back to my house for lunch and cooked myself a chicken breast and salad. I have a small refrigerator that is absolutely a God-send. I am able to keep my food fresher longer. Yet another thing I have taken for granted.
I returned again to El Milagro in the afternoon and played basketball with the kids. Another volunteer was also there; he is from Germany and here in Peru for a year. We played sports with the kids. He is going to be visiting with us in the afternoons.
So, I have encountered another issue with my place – the stuff I bought to kill the cockroaches works great. I woke up to a bunch of dead cockroaches in my floor. However, I also encountered some ant-like bugs eating the dead cockroaches, hundreds of them. It’s a catch-22! I kill the cockroaches, I get bugs.
While I was at home in the states, I got a pedometer (a little device that measures how far you walk that straps to your belt). I walked 3.83 miles today.
January 13, 2005
Today is the first day that I have been able to sleep later than 7:00 since I got here to Trujillo. I have desperately needed the rest too. I have been running on fumes for the last couple of days. Peace Corps held a basic computer skills workshop for youth in Trujillo this week. All the volunteers from my group, along with a youth representative, came to Trujillo for 3 days. We all stayed in a super nice hotel near the plaza and had computer training in the Da Vinci Computer Institute. I was able to bring 2 teens from El Milagro, a girl and a boy. They were absolutely overwhelmed with everything. Their eyes were as big as saucers when we arrived. I couldn’t believe that they had never left El Milagro! They had never seen an elevator, felt hot water from a shower, ate in a restaurant, or walked around the plaza. We spent an hour just exploring the hotel. They touched everything and just giggled and giggled. It was great to be able to be with the kids as they enjoyed for the first time the things we take for granted. Most importantly, they got to learn how to use a computer, including instant messenger and email. Hopefully, this will brighten their futures.
I took the kids home to El Milagro last night around 9:00 pm by taxi. The entire neighborhood was locked up with huge metal gates. We had to search and search for an open road to actually get to their homes. It was scary, for sure. The taxi driver admitted that he was even scared. He says they attack taxis in El Milagro at this time of night. They lock up the streets that way to prevent robberies, but all I could keep thinking was how they get out if the need arises. They don’t, I guess.
Today, I cleaned my apartment and unpacked my last box. I got down on my hands and knees to scrub the floors; they needed it for sure. I put up new curtains, including a shower curtain! My new place is great. I just love all the space, hot water (so hot it scalds!), and my own kitchen. Something that is driving me nuts -- I have cockroaches. I mean cockroaches as big as mice. They are everywhere too, in my closets, in my cabinets, just running crazy. In the afternoon, I went into downtown to buy some much needed groceries; I have been living off canned tuna for two days now. I also bought something to kill my little cockroach friends. Pray, it works.
In the afternoon, I made a salad and visited the internet café that is next door. I have already made friends with the owner which is good. He wants to talk about psychology. I think it might mean he just wants to talk, but it does feel good to be settling in.
January 7, 2005
I am staying at my counterpart’s house tonight. My little apartment won’t be ready until tomorrow morning, so I am bunking here. It is a little wierd, cause I am not sure if they want me to chill with them or if it is ok to just hang out on the bed that they provided me with. I have had a pretty good day so far. I have realized that I am not as lonely here as I thought I would be earlier today.
I got into Trujillo around 7:30 this morning and went directly to my counterpart’s house. I slept for about 3 hours, since sleeping on that bus never works out good for me. I woke up and hung out with a couple of my coworkers who were a the house for a meeting. I left around 1:00 for the internet, where i stayed for an hour. After internet, I went to the post office. What a surprise to find that I had a package from Colorado. A good friend of mine is working out there and sent me a box filled with stuff I was just craving -- a low carb chocolate bar and a fingernail file.
I made it to El Milagro around 3:30 and everyone was extremely excited to see me. They wanted to see my photos and hear all about my time at home in the states. The moms and kids alike couldn't get enough of my stories. It really made me thankful for such a great group of people to work with. I have to admit I had been feeling a little bit down in the afternoon. I knew that I would, since that is what always happens on my first day back, but being around my families in El Milagro put me in a great mood.
After work, I stopped by my site mate’s place and found her busy in an evaluation with her youth. We ended up chatting and we caught up on what has been going on here and at home in the states. I was a bit surprised to find how much I had missed Trujillo and my life here.
January 5, 2005
Here I am on the plane to Lima, for who knows how long to stay. I have no plans to return to the states anytime soon. Heck, I almost think it would just be better for me to stay the entire year and a half without a trip home. We will see how long I make it, I guess. As for returning to Peru, I was ready to come back. I could see myself getting more than a little bored at home in the states. I miss my mom so much already. She cried when I left and I wanted her back so bad when I was waiting by myself in the terminal. She has been so great to me this vacation. With a home decked out in holiday spirit, to providing me with money, most importantly she is my best friend and I love her so much.
I am returning to Peru spiritually renewed and emotionally stronger.
I made it to Lima around midnight. I am now in a hotel that costs $20 and is close to an area of town I am familiar with, so things are good. I have good cable, too. My taxi driver and his wife were at the airport to pick me up as soon as i left the luggage area. I was surprised to see them. I guess that just goes to show they need the money and didn’t forget me. They actually invited me to lunch at thier house tomorrow. I had forgotten the humidity of this country. My hair was in fuzz and my skin sticky by the time I got settled in my room tonight. I guess I will have to get used to (again) the feeling of not quite being clean. You just can't feel as clean here as you can in the states, or atleast I can’t.
I am having a few lonely feelings now too. I know that they are normal and that it is natural to feel that way when you leave your loved ones to come to live in a foreign country. it just sucks a bit. Hopefully, I will feel better soon. I am anxious to get to Trujillo and get moved into my new pad. I look forward to decorating and getting all my new stuff set up.
January 4, 2005
I spoke about my PC experience to a high school Spanish class today at my ole stomping grounds in Hiawassee. It was interesting to be in front of American students telling them about Peru. Usually it is vice-versa with me telling Peruvians all about the USA. Mostly the kids were surprised to find that Peruvians eat guinea pig, just as Peruvians are surprised to find Americans keep guinea pigs in their homes as pets. One girl made a comment that I have had to change a lot by living in Peru. With that comment, I felt I had made something of an impression on the class -- that life in the United States is not like life in the whole world.
I got up this morning again to run. The stadium was closed. I am not sure why; maybe because it was 8:45 am on a Saturday morning. So, I just ran around the outside of the stadium – seven full laps. There were a couple others running as well. On my walk home, I stopped to buy a slice of watermelon and pineapple from a little street vendor. I am sure that the conditions aren’t sanitary, but the fruit is always absolutely delicious.
I took a shower using my hot water, even though it is a constant 80 degrees in my room (even at midnight), with my fan blowing the air around. Maybe in a few days, I will just chill off in a cold shower, but for now I love the hot water. I can’t even complain about the weather, it is ‘right up my alley’ and I am loving every sweat drop that falls!
As I was getting ready to go to work, my host brother, an accountant, invited me to meet one of his clients that is working with a new NGO in Huanchaco. The man was older and seemed important. He told me of this group that wants to help a poor area of town with free schooling and breakfast. He invited me to see the location at that very moment, so we boarded his private car. I know, I was a little nervous, at first. Just getting into a car of a man I have known ten minutes is a little risky. But my host family is friends with him, so I told myself I would be fine. We ventured to Huanchaco to a desolate area beside the main highway where we met with a priest who is in charge of this new project. They showed me the locale and told me of their hopes for the project: a new food pantry, a new health center, and a school. It looks like a good start to a needed community service. Suddenly it dawned on me that they wanted me to help them financially. I explained to them that I can’t offer any financial assistance, but could possible recommend a volunteer be placed there. We exchanged emails/phone numbers and said we would be in contact. I think I may even return tomorrow to a breakfast they are sponsoring for the community.
When I returned my host brother told me that the man was indeed important and was a journalist from the biggest newspaper in Peru. Oh great, I thought. I will probably be in the newspaper tomorrow with a huge headline that reads, “Gringa Gives Tons of Money to New Youth Project” or something else just as false. They did take of photo of us looking at the new property.
Since I haven’t mentioned much about my new host family – I am now living in a three story home, as before. In the first floor, lives the lady of the house with her husband. I haven’t met him yet, but the lady is precious. She is so sweet and caring. I live on the second floor behind the brother’s accountant’s office. He has graciously given me permission to use his office phone/internet whenever the need arises. He has a sweet secretary who is always present; who he said can take phone messages for me when I am out. Behind my room, at the end of the hall, lives my host brother with is family. He is married and has two little babies, one that is two years old and the other that is four months old. Above us, in the third floor, live various students. They rent single rooms and attend the university. I am paying 300 soles per month for rent (that’s kind of high) and for 33 more soles a month I can have cable TV. I may have to just do that. First, I have to buy a TV.
January 14, 2005
I have had a great day today, mostly, because I was able to get into somewhat of a routine that makes me happy. I got up at 8:00 am and decided to run. My first run since before Christmas. I headed over to the stadium (a huge soccer field surrounded by a track) and asked if I could run. The guy at the gate said I had to get permission from the office. At the office, I paid 10 soles for an entrance card for this month. When I got back to the stadium, the guy at the gate said I had signed up for the track team! He says it’s free to use the stadium for running, but I had paid to be a part of the team. Since the team was comprised of adolescents, I told him I just wanted to run. He smiled and advised me not to pay next month. My run was great! I even ran some steps. It was just like being back at home when I ran in high school. No one stared at me nor thought it weird that a woman was exercising. I didn’t even have one cat-call the whole time.
I made my breakfast of bacon and fruit and then headed to El Milagro. The kids were excited to see me and I talked with my counterparts about things that had been happening. Seems, I have a busy schedule coming up. With the school kids out of classes for the summer, they really need activities to keep them occupied. I am also coordinating an international project with a sorority sister of mine back in the states. She is a member of the Rotary and will be donating $1000 to El Milagro. I can’t even imagine us getting that kind of money here. My counterparts are super excited and started rambling off what we could buy with the money – books, materials, bookcases, and the list just goes on and on. My job is to get in contact with a particular Rotary Club here and coordinate with them about the funds.
Another activity that I have going on with work is teaching how to make earrings. I have been able to have two sessions and it is a huge hit. The mothers especially love it and they like the end product, a pair of cute earrings to wear home. I need to think of other things we can make as a group, something that can make them a profit. I need to consult my books.
I came back to my house for lunch and cooked myself a chicken breast and salad. I have a small refrigerator that is absolutely a God-send. I am able to keep my food fresher longer. Yet another thing I have taken for granted.
I returned again to El Milagro in the afternoon and played basketball with the kids. Another volunteer was also there; he is from Germany and here in Peru for a year. We played sports with the kids. He is going to be visiting with us in the afternoons.
So, I have encountered another issue with my place – the stuff I bought to kill the cockroaches works great. I woke up to a bunch of dead cockroaches in my floor. However, I also encountered some ant-like bugs eating the dead cockroaches, hundreds of them. It’s a catch-22! I kill the cockroaches, I get bugs.
While I was at home in the states, I got a pedometer (a little device that measures how far you walk that straps to your belt). I walked 3.83 miles today.
January 13, 2005
Today is the first day that I have been able to sleep later than 7:00 since I got here to Trujillo. I have desperately needed the rest too. I have been running on fumes for the last couple of days. Peace Corps held a basic computer skills workshop for youth in Trujillo this week. All the volunteers from my group, along with a youth representative, came to Trujillo for 3 days. We all stayed in a super nice hotel near the plaza and had computer training in the Da Vinci Computer Institute. I was able to bring 2 teens from El Milagro, a girl and a boy. They were absolutely overwhelmed with everything. Their eyes were as big as saucers when we arrived. I couldn’t believe that they had never left El Milagro! They had never seen an elevator, felt hot water from a shower, ate in a restaurant, or walked around the plaza. We spent an hour just exploring the hotel. They touched everything and just giggled and giggled. It was great to be able to be with the kids as they enjoyed for the first time the things we take for granted. Most importantly, they got to learn how to use a computer, including instant messenger and email. Hopefully, this will brighten their futures.
I took the kids home to El Milagro last night around 9:00 pm by taxi. The entire neighborhood was locked up with huge metal gates. We had to search and search for an open road to actually get to their homes. It was scary, for sure. The taxi driver admitted that he was even scared. He says they attack taxis in El Milagro at this time of night. They lock up the streets that way to prevent robberies, but all I could keep thinking was how they get out if the need arises. They don’t, I guess.
Today, I cleaned my apartment and unpacked my last box. I got down on my hands and knees to scrub the floors; they needed it for sure. I put up new curtains, including a shower curtain! My new place is great. I just love all the space, hot water (so hot it scalds!), and my own kitchen. Something that is driving me nuts -- I have cockroaches. I mean cockroaches as big as mice. They are everywhere too, in my closets, in my cabinets, just running crazy. In the afternoon, I went into downtown to buy some much needed groceries; I have been living off canned tuna for two days now. I also bought something to kill my little cockroach friends. Pray, it works.
In the afternoon, I made a salad and visited the internet café that is next door. I have already made friends with the owner which is good. He wants to talk about psychology. I think it might mean he just wants to talk, but it does feel good to be settling in.
January 7, 2005
I am staying at my counterpart’s house tonight. My little apartment won’t be ready until tomorrow morning, so I am bunking here. It is a little wierd, cause I am not sure if they want me to chill with them or if it is ok to just hang out on the bed that they provided me with. I have had a pretty good day so far. I have realized that I am not as lonely here as I thought I would be earlier today.
I got into Trujillo around 7:30 this morning and went directly to my counterpart’s house. I slept for about 3 hours, since sleeping on that bus never works out good for me. I woke up and hung out with a couple of my coworkers who were a the house for a meeting. I left around 1:00 for the internet, where i stayed for an hour. After internet, I went to the post office. What a surprise to find that I had a package from Colorado. A good friend of mine is working out there and sent me a box filled with stuff I was just craving -- a low carb chocolate bar and a fingernail file.
I made it to El Milagro around 3:30 and everyone was extremely excited to see me. They wanted to see my photos and hear all about my time at home in the states. The moms and kids alike couldn't get enough of my stories. It really made me thankful for such a great group of people to work with. I have to admit I had been feeling a little bit down in the afternoon. I knew that I would, since that is what always happens on my first day back, but being around my families in El Milagro put me in a great mood.
After work, I stopped by my site mate’s place and found her busy in an evaluation with her youth. We ended up chatting and we caught up on what has been going on here and at home in the states. I was a bit surprised to find how much I had missed Trujillo and my life here.
January 5, 2005
Here I am on the plane to Lima, for who knows how long to stay. I have no plans to return to the states anytime soon. Heck, I almost think it would just be better for me to stay the entire year and a half without a trip home. We will see how long I make it, I guess. As for returning to Peru, I was ready to come back. I could see myself getting more than a little bored at home in the states. I miss my mom so much already. She cried when I left and I wanted her back so bad when I was waiting by myself in the terminal. She has been so great to me this vacation. With a home decked out in holiday spirit, to providing me with money, most importantly she is my best friend and I love her so much.
I am returning to Peru spiritually renewed and emotionally stronger.
I made it to Lima around midnight. I am now in a hotel that costs $20 and is close to an area of town I am familiar with, so things are good. I have good cable, too. My taxi driver and his wife were at the airport to pick me up as soon as i left the luggage area. I was surprised to see them. I guess that just goes to show they need the money and didn’t forget me. They actually invited me to lunch at thier house tomorrow. I had forgotten the humidity of this country. My hair was in fuzz and my skin sticky by the time I got settled in my room tonight. I guess I will have to get used to (again) the feeling of not quite being clean. You just can't feel as clean here as you can in the states, or atleast I can’t.
I am having a few lonely feelings now too. I know that they are normal and that it is natural to feel that way when you leave your loved ones to come to live in a foreign country. it just sucks a bit. Hopefully, I will feel better soon. I am anxious to get to Trujillo and get moved into my new pad. I look forward to decorating and getting all my new stuff set up.
January 4, 2005
I spoke about my PC experience to a high school Spanish class today at my ole stomping grounds in Hiawassee. It was interesting to be in front of American students telling them about Peru. Usually it is vice-versa with me telling Peruvians all about the USA. Mostly the kids were surprised to find that Peruvians eat guinea pig, just as Peruvians are surprised to find Americans keep guinea pigs in their homes as pets. One girl made a comment that I have had to change a lot by living in Peru. With that comment, I felt I had made something of an impression on the class -- that life in the United States is not like life in the whole world.
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