Ceviche.
While it may be the pride and joy of Peru, it has just become my enemy number one. Thanks to my first unwanted visit in the middle of the night by Mrs. Vomit and Mr. Diarrhea.
Now, I should have known better with me being in the mountains and seafood being from the coast ,but my friend assured me. “Oh no,” my friend said “Don’t worry. This seafood is fresh. It comes from the coast every Wednesday.” But you know what? I should have listened to my gut because that sad plate of ceviche did not look that appetizing to me. Instead what did I do? I did what every nice house guest would do and shoved that plate of ceviche down with a mouthful of chanchita.
But in my defense, I’ve had pretty good luck thus far. Having been here a little over 6 months, and having nothing what-so-ever having rocked my boat, I suppose my time finally came.
Now, I will spare you the oh-so-delightful details, but let’s just say thank god I had my “chamber pot” or things would have gotten ugly or at least uglier than they already were. My poor host mother even woke up to my retching and came down concerned. Like every good mom, she was ready to call 911 (if there was such a thing down here), but I told her not to worry…there was nothing left in my stomach anyway.
So after one full day of naps, hot chocolate, and the 2nd season of the Wire, I’m as good as new and am now the wiser. When it comes to ceviche, I’m staying as far away from that stuff as possible…at least until I go to the coast anyway.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A Journey to Middle Earth
I remember when I was a little girl and I would play “make believe” with my friends on the playground. We would imagine that we were like “Robinson Crusoe” and get shipwrecked on a deserted island and or like “Homeward Bound” and get lost in the woods and have to find our way back home. (I was a very imaginative kid). Well this past day, my fantasies came true…more or less.
This past Wednesday, I met up with my friend Barbara and her socio Elly in Cabracancha, a small pueblo outside of Chota where Elly works and which is also close to Barbara’s site. The plan was to meet up in Cabracancha for a meeting and then go to Barbara’s site for the night. So, I walked up to Cabracancha with Elly, as Barbara met up with us with her health promoter. After a fun morning of learning about how to build a vivero (tree farm), Barbara and I were getting ready to head back, but small problem...Barbara didn’t know how to get back to her site, and her health promoter left without us. Well what did we decide to do? Find our way back ourselves, of course. Easy enough right?
This was probably our first mistake in hindsight, seeing as how Barbara has lived here 3 months and still doesn’t know the trail. But it was 1:00 pm and Elly wasn’t leaving until 5:00 pm. “Come on Barbara, It’ll be fun, “ I said. (I love finding new trails and seeing where they lead). So we thought we could at least try. Worst case scenario, we get lost and invite ourselves in to someone’s house, which honestly wouldn’t be a problem in Peru (especially with our gringa status).
And so off we go to the forest with Barbara and her staff and me, her trusty sidekick with all the supplies. (Mom, I had my first aid kit, snacks, and water, so don’t you worry :-D) As we traversed through the forest down hills and through streams, I couldn’t help but feel like Frodo and Sam (minus the hairy feet) headed through middle earth to destroy the ring, only our task wasn’t as dangerous or long (or so we hoped). But just like Frodo and Sam, we took a few wrong turns and had to stop for direction, but we eventually always found our way back to the trail…except when we didn’t.
A neighbor girl had told us the trail was over the stream and to the right, so we did as she said, but couldn’t find any said “trail”, yet could see one in the distance. So Barbara had given me the task to find a way to the next trail, since I was the tree-hugger from Oregon and she was from the Jersey hood. She just pointed in the direction and I found a way to get there. This was probably our second mistake, as anyone who knows me knows that I don’t do directions. I can barely tell east from west. But all we needed to find was the carretera, and then she knew how to get home. So off in the distance we could see the trail, and decided to hike through some chacras when we were suddenly met with a small creek to cross. With some special tree-shimmying abilities, we made it down and across the creek to the other side. Then, the rain started.
First sprinkles and then more steady rain. And then before we knew it, full blown rain storm complete with thunder and lighting. At this point, it was about 3:30 pm and we still hadn’t found this elusive carretera that Barbara was talking about, so along we went trudging through the rain. Thankfully, in the not-so-far-off distance was a house where we could seek shelter from the rain, so again, off we went.
Once we arrived, good news at last: we found the carretera! But bad news: we were still about 2 hours from our destination. I couldn’t help but laugh as I was remembering how much I loved to play “lost” as a kid, and here we were…lost. So we sat there waiting out the rain and thinking what next move was, when up the hill a short distance, a moto-taxi was honking at us. Could it be? Were we saved?!
Up the muddy hill we went to meet our mysterious rescuer when lo-and-behold it turns out to be Barbara’s moto-taxi “friend” (aka. Her Peruvian crush) there to offer us a ride! Finally, some rest for our poor legs and some eye candy for Barbara to boot! Haha. What luck! He said that he saw us seeking shelter at the house and thought we might be needing a ride. And boy was he right, as we still had more than an hour’s walk to go. Putt-Putt-Putt up the hill we went, when Barbara’s “friend” dropped us off free-of-charge. What a gentleman. “Wasn’t he cute?!” Barbara asks. “I give you my blessing,” I replied.
But alas, our journey was not complete as Barbara lived even farther up the hill off of the road. During this last leg of our trip, we met up with some fellow travelers…kids heading home from class. We journeyed together through checkpoint 1 (barbed wire fence), checkpoint 2 (trees), and went our separate ways at checkpoint 3 (water reservoir). When finally, in the distance was our “Mt. Doom,” aka Barbara’s house. Once we finally approached the house, we just sat and smiled, as our journey had finally come to an end. Next time, though, best to have a guide.
(This blog is dedicated to Linsdey Kane)
This past Wednesday, I met up with my friend Barbara and her socio Elly in Cabracancha, a small pueblo outside of Chota where Elly works and which is also close to Barbara’s site. The plan was to meet up in Cabracancha for a meeting and then go to Barbara’s site for the night. So, I walked up to Cabracancha with Elly, as Barbara met up with us with her health promoter. After a fun morning of learning about how to build a vivero (tree farm), Barbara and I were getting ready to head back, but small problem...Barbara didn’t know how to get back to her site, and her health promoter left without us. Well what did we decide to do? Find our way back ourselves, of course. Easy enough right?
This was probably our first mistake in hindsight, seeing as how Barbara has lived here 3 months and still doesn’t know the trail. But it was 1:00 pm and Elly wasn’t leaving until 5:00 pm. “Come on Barbara, It’ll be fun, “ I said. (I love finding new trails and seeing where they lead). So we thought we could at least try. Worst case scenario, we get lost and invite ourselves in to someone’s house, which honestly wouldn’t be a problem in Peru (especially with our gringa status).
And so off we go to the forest with Barbara and her staff and me, her trusty sidekick with all the supplies. (Mom, I had my first aid kit, snacks, and water, so don’t you worry :-D) As we traversed through the forest down hills and through streams, I couldn’t help but feel like Frodo and Sam (minus the hairy feet) headed through middle earth to destroy the ring, only our task wasn’t as dangerous or long (or so we hoped). But just like Frodo and Sam, we took a few wrong turns and had to stop for direction, but we eventually always found our way back to the trail…except when we didn’t.
A neighbor girl had told us the trail was over the stream and to the right, so we did as she said, but couldn’t find any said “trail”, yet could see one in the distance. So Barbara had given me the task to find a way to the next trail, since I was the tree-hugger from Oregon and she was from the Jersey hood. She just pointed in the direction and I found a way to get there. This was probably our second mistake, as anyone who knows me knows that I don’t do directions. I can barely tell east from west. But all we needed to find was the carretera, and then she knew how to get home. So off in the distance we could see the trail, and decided to hike through some chacras when we were suddenly met with a small creek to cross. With some special tree-shimmying abilities, we made it down and across the creek to the other side. Then, the rain started.
First sprinkles and then more steady rain. And then before we knew it, full blown rain storm complete with thunder and lighting. At this point, it was about 3:30 pm and we still hadn’t found this elusive carretera that Barbara was talking about, so along we went trudging through the rain. Thankfully, in the not-so-far-off distance was a house where we could seek shelter from the rain, so again, off we went.
Once we arrived, good news at last: we found the carretera! But bad news: we were still about 2 hours from our destination. I couldn’t help but laugh as I was remembering how much I loved to play “lost” as a kid, and here we were…lost. So we sat there waiting out the rain and thinking what next move was, when up the hill a short distance, a moto-taxi was honking at us. Could it be? Were we saved?!
Up the muddy hill we went to meet our mysterious rescuer when lo-and-behold it turns out to be Barbara’s moto-taxi “friend” (aka. Her Peruvian crush) there to offer us a ride! Finally, some rest for our poor legs and some eye candy for Barbara to boot! Haha. What luck! He said that he saw us seeking shelter at the house and thought we might be needing a ride. And boy was he right, as we still had more than an hour’s walk to go. Putt-Putt-Putt up the hill we went, when Barbara’s “friend” dropped us off free-of-charge. What a gentleman. “Wasn’t he cute?!” Barbara asks. “I give you my blessing,” I replied.
But alas, our journey was not complete as Barbara lived even farther up the hill off of the road. During this last leg of our trip, we met up with some fellow travelers…kids heading home from class. We journeyed together through checkpoint 1 (barbed wire fence), checkpoint 2 (trees), and went our separate ways at checkpoint 3 (water reservoir). When finally, in the distance was our “Mt. Doom,” aka Barbara’s house. Once we finally approached the house, we just sat and smiled, as our journey had finally come to an end. Next time, though, best to have a guide.
(This blog is dedicated to Linsdey Kane)
Friday, March 05, 2010
A Family Affair
Good bye dirt floors, hello cement!
After 3 months, 6 days, and probably an afternoon later, my cement floors are finally in! And they look beautiful in all their shiny glory. This is a big deal for me since not only does this mean no more worries about everything covered in dirt, but it also marks that fact that I have accomplished something…even if I actually didn’t DO the cementing…it’s the fact that I created change that counts.
So now the story of how I got this new addition…
From about the moment as saw my dirt floors, I knew I would have to breach the subject of cementing at some point. It’s not that I couldn’t live with the dirt floors because after 3 months, I know that I could of, but that wasn’t an option since cement floors are required for all Peace Corps volunteers. So I knew I would be getting them at some time.
When I brought up the subject, they said that was fine and that my host dad even knew a guy that could do it. So that was settled then. But wait, what about the money? Well turns out my host family didn’t have the funds to put one in and that I would have to front all of the money. Not a worry, I thought. Cementing floors can’t be that much, right?
Well it turns out cementing floors is kind of expensive…at least on a volunteer’s budget. With all the material and man-power, my cement floors were going to cost S/600 (about $200). Seeing as how I make a wee bit more than that a month, I was going to have to get an advance from Peace Corps.
So after the swap of phone call and emails between Peace Corps, my APCD, regional coordinator, and I, I finally had the a-ok to from “the man”. But with being governmental organization, going through all the tape took a while…until a few weeks later, I finally had the cash deposited into my account.
Now about that guy that my dad knew…Turns out he was a cousin of my host dad. So when I told my host parents that I finally had the money, they said they would contact him about doing the job. But seeing how this is Peru and nothing is that easy, he wasn’t at his house, but instead up on the mountain. So a few more days go by and no word from the maestro (Master of Crafts), as we were calling him, so I had to turn other tactics if I was ever going to get my cement floor.
My friend Barbara said that intimidation goes a long way, so I used the fact that my boss was coming at the end of the month and that I needed my floors done by then. Next thing I know, Boom! We were going to meet with the maestro the very next day.
So we all took a family trip to the pueblo together, which was the first family outing we’ve had in my 3 months. We ended up hanging out in the plaza, as is the favorite pastime in Peru, with the maestro AND his family. Business is not an in-and-out transaction here. You have to sit and talk awhile before any work can get done. And this isn’t just a stranger that we hired to do this work, but actually part of the family.
So not just him, but his whole family came up to help with the cement floor…son, daughter, and wife. They helped collect rocks to put down first, so less cement is used and later on helped with cooking while the men took over the rest of the labor. And it turns out too, that not only were we cementing my room, but our living room as well, which I was happy to hear about. My house family is probably the most deserving people I know, so any improvement to their lives that I can help with, I’m glad with.
With all the work being done, there were bellies to be filled, so lunch was a big family affair, complete with soup AND a Segundo of rice, potatoes, and meat! You know it’s a special occasion when meat is present, as I have basically turned into a vegetarian at site, except for those times when cuy is presented to me ;-)
And after 2 days and a lot of food later, my cement floor was finally done. And it’s not just any cement floor, but red. Yes, red. Apparently they tint their cement floors here, which I’m fine with. The more color the better. And according to my host dad, it was either red or black, so I told him he made a good decision with the red. And with 6 inches added to my floor, I now have to bend down to get through my door. Which means anyone taller than 5’8” is going to have to watch their head (i.e my gigantic family from the states). But having lived in a college house with a “hobbit” hole, I know how to go in and out with ease.
So now with everything being done, I’m excited to go back and move all my stuff back in. The only disadvantage to this whole cement floor business is that I’m going to have to be a little more careful when I have those midnight bathroom needs and just make sure not to miss my bucket, as there will no longer be dirt there. In the words of my wise mother, “Modernization does has its downside.”
After 3 months, 6 days, and probably an afternoon later, my cement floors are finally in! And they look beautiful in all their shiny glory. This is a big deal for me since not only does this mean no more worries about everything covered in dirt, but it also marks that fact that I have accomplished something…even if I actually didn’t DO the cementing…it’s the fact that I created change that counts.
So now the story of how I got this new addition…
From about the moment as saw my dirt floors, I knew I would have to breach the subject of cementing at some point. It’s not that I couldn’t live with the dirt floors because after 3 months, I know that I could of, but that wasn’t an option since cement floors are required for all Peace Corps volunteers. So I knew I would be getting them at some time.
When I brought up the subject, they said that was fine and that my host dad even knew a guy that could do it. So that was settled then. But wait, what about the money? Well turns out my host family didn’t have the funds to put one in and that I would have to front all of the money. Not a worry, I thought. Cementing floors can’t be that much, right?
Well it turns out cementing floors is kind of expensive…at least on a volunteer’s budget. With all the material and man-power, my cement floors were going to cost S/600 (about $200). Seeing as how I make a wee bit more than that a month, I was going to have to get an advance from Peace Corps.
So after the swap of phone call and emails between Peace Corps, my APCD, regional coordinator, and I, I finally had the a-ok to from “the man”. But with being governmental organization, going through all the tape took a while…until a few weeks later, I finally had the cash deposited into my account.
Now about that guy that my dad knew…Turns out he was a cousin of my host dad. So when I told my host parents that I finally had the money, they said they would contact him about doing the job. But seeing how this is Peru and nothing is that easy, he wasn’t at his house, but instead up on the mountain. So a few more days go by and no word from the maestro (Master of Crafts), as we were calling him, so I had to turn other tactics if I was ever going to get my cement floor.
My friend Barbara said that intimidation goes a long way, so I used the fact that my boss was coming at the end of the month and that I needed my floors done by then. Next thing I know, Boom! We were going to meet with the maestro the very next day.
So we all took a family trip to the pueblo together, which was the first family outing we’ve had in my 3 months. We ended up hanging out in the plaza, as is the favorite pastime in Peru, with the maestro AND his family. Business is not an in-and-out transaction here. You have to sit and talk awhile before any work can get done. And this isn’t just a stranger that we hired to do this work, but actually part of the family.
So not just him, but his whole family came up to help with the cement floor…son, daughter, and wife. They helped collect rocks to put down first, so less cement is used and later on helped with cooking while the men took over the rest of the labor. And it turns out too, that not only were we cementing my room, but our living room as well, which I was happy to hear about. My house family is probably the most deserving people I know, so any improvement to their lives that I can help with, I’m glad with.
With all the work being done, there were bellies to be filled, so lunch was a big family affair, complete with soup AND a Segundo of rice, potatoes, and meat! You know it’s a special occasion when meat is present, as I have basically turned into a vegetarian at site, except for those times when cuy is presented to me ;-)
And after 2 days and a lot of food later, my cement floor was finally done. And it’s not just any cement floor, but red. Yes, red. Apparently they tint their cement floors here, which I’m fine with. The more color the better. And according to my host dad, it was either red or black, so I told him he made a good decision with the red. And with 6 inches added to my floor, I now have to bend down to get through my door. Which means anyone taller than 5’8” is going to have to watch their head (i.e my gigantic family from the states). But having lived in a college house with a “hobbit” hole, I know how to go in and out with ease.
So now with everything being done, I’m excited to go back and move all my stuff back in. The only disadvantage to this whole cement floor business is that I’m going to have to be a little more careful when I have those midnight bathroom needs and just make sure not to miss my bucket, as there will no longer be dirt there. In the words of my wise mother, “Modernization does has its downside.”
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