Thursday, July 15, 2010

Te invito...

You’ve all heard of this line in a popular children’s story “You give a mouse a cookie, he’ll want a glass of milk.” Well I’m here to tell you the Peruvian version…”You give a mouse a cookie, he’ll give half of it back to you only after he has asked you to sit down and rest for a while.”

The culture in Peru, something I learned very early on, is one of generosity. This particular custom of sharing whatever you have is called “invitar-ing” in Spanish, which sounds a lot like inviting someone to something, which actually isn’t too far off its true translation. If you want to share your food with someone, you simply say “te/le invito.” I have never felt so put at ease with these people, especially since they don’t have much to offer. But the little they do, they make sure to give to you. I’ve been given the following: bread, oranges, bananas, eggs, fruit juice, and even babies (Tempting, but no…). Not to mention the umpteenth times that I have been offered a free lunch, even if I’ve already eaten. What’s great about Peru is I don’t have to worry about going hungry, even if I’m some place where I don’t know anyone, I’m still guaranteed a good, hot meal.

This little custom though, while good on the receiving end, can be a bitch on the opposite end. For instance, I might have 1 orange for a snack, but if I’m surrounded by 4 other people, it’s assumed that I have to share the orange with everyone…meaning there’s not much left for me. I don’t consider myself a very stingy person per se, but the Peruvians sure make me feel like one when I don’t want to share my 1 orange with the 4 people sitting with me.

To avoid these orange-less-type situations, I do a number of things. One, make sure to buy more of something than I think I want in the instance that I find other people eyeing my food. And two, simply don’t show anyone my food and eat it in solitude later. While I’d like to say that I do more of the former, many times I choose the latter as I simply want my orange all to myself. Call me selfish, but that’s my life.

So the next time you all see me, either here in Peru or back in the states, and you see that I have some food, don’t be afraid to “invitar” yourself, unless of course I’m behind some wall ravishing my one piece of fruit…don’t even bother.

Friday, June 25, 2010

The World is Flat, no?!

Peace Corps gives you lots of time to think. While I prefer to be busy, there are those days when I’m waiting for a meeting to start or waiting for the combi to leave…so basically, I do a lot of waiting. And while I’m waiting I think about what’s for lunch (rice and papas again!?), what’s on my ever-growing to-do list, and most recently how globalization is infiltrating Peru.

I recently started reading a book called “The World is Flat” by Thomas Friedman, a Christmas gift given by my dad back in 2007. Obviously, it’s 2010 now, so it’s taken me a while to get to it, but I’m glad I waited because now I get to see these changes that Friedman talks about firsthand.

For instance, I live in a village of about 4,000 people and while I live in a house made of mud and straw and USED to have a dirt floor, I still have electricity, occasionally water (cold, not hot), access to the internet (slow, but still functioning) and cell phone service most of the time (a love-hate relationship really). When talking to the older folks in town, they tell me that things were different back then. Not in the sense that they had to walk barefoot 20 miles in the snow uphill (they still do that, just no snow), but that until 7 years ago they didn’t have light, and up to 3 years ago they didn’t have cell phone service or internet. And back before there were cars, people had to walk to Bambamarca and even to the coast (a good week journey) to bring back supplies.

Now, I don’t have to walk to Bamba if I don’t want to, but instead catch one of the various camionetas that go up and down my mountain all day long. While I could be waiting up to 2 hours for one to appear, I still have the option of saving my legs and waiting for one rather than walk down. I constantly see older women dressed in their traditional skirts, cardigans, and straw hats carrying their babies on their back while talking on their cell phone or kids at school asking me if I could sing “My Heart Will Go On” for them or ask me if I know Michael Jackson. And none of this would be possible without globalization having open doors and technology, so that my little village high up in the mountains could watch the World Cup on their TVs.

It’s a weird mix though, this “old world meets new world” business. While I think globalization has its perks, as it brings the internet, something that every child should have access to. It also has its downsides. What happens to this new generation that is growing up with internet and viewing the western world through their TVs? What happens to their culture? When kids have more access to the world around them, does that mean that they lose their culture? And is it possible to keep both; receive more education through the internet while keeping traditional values? At this point, I’m really not sure, but it’s something to ponder in my downtime.

Why going all philosophical you ask? Well most recently, a number of incidents have occurred so that currently I have no phone. And no phone means no access to the outside world. No access to the outside world means Annie has more alone time to think.

This no phone situation has also made me ponder what it would be like to be in the Peace Corps back in the early 60’s and 70’s. Back when you were really were cut off with the outside world and living among the natives. I’ve heard stories of people back then in Peru when they were literally dropped off in their village and left to do whatever they wanted for the next two years. Things have changed a lot since then, as we are now required to turn in reports, receive visits from Peace Corps personnel, attend week-long meetings every couple months, and are not allowed to drive along with a whole list of things we aren’t allowed to do.

So the question is then, would I survive back then in the Peace Corps? I think I could, but it would definitely be a different experience than I’m having now. I enjoy my creature comforts. I enjoy talking to my “site mate” at least 5 times a day, and I enjoy catching up on things happening in the U.S. online (Orlando Bloom is getting hitched!), and I enjoy that I can call my family and friends through Skype, even though their voices may sound like robots.

So I guess the moral of this blog is this: Peace Corps, if you are reading this, please give me my new phone ASAP!!!!

Camp A.L.M.A.

To those of you who know how I love to play games, wear pigtails, and watch Disney movies, it’s no surprise then that I’m a Youth Development volunteer trapped in a Community Health volunteer’s body. One of my life goals is to be a camp counselor (seriously…) and my dream came to fruition a couple of weekends ago at camp A.L.M.A. A.L.M.A. stands for Actividades de Liderazgo para Mujeres Adolescentes, which is Leadership Activities for Adolescent Women. ALMA also stands for soul, and there was a lot of it that weekend.

Camp A.L.M.A., which for girls, is put on by volunteers in each department every year, while later on in the year we have a camp for boys, Camp VALOR. It’s a three-day event in which each volunteer brings two girls from their community to Cajamarca City. It’s a great opportunity for volunteers from around the department to work together, while also giving something back to our communities.

I had picked out two girls early on. One of which was in my summer school English class, and another, who is my next door neighbor, and probably my best friend in my town (granted, she’s 13, but hey, the pickings are slim). I had everything planned out a couple weeks in advance, as in I had made official documents for the schools and the parents, and good thing too, because I ran into a few roadblocks. For one, one of my girls parents wasn’t too keen on letting her girl go because she thought it was religious affiliated (We were staying at a convent). I insisted that it wasn’t, but in the end, the girl wasn’t able to go anyway due to her grandma being sick, so I choice another girl instead. The other problem involved my other girl’s school headmistress, a nun. Now I’m not familiar with Catholic schools, as I went to a public school all my life, but I have seen Blues Brothers…and I’m not kidding, I was a bit afraid of this nun.

So this is how it goes. I go to her office to give her the official document excusing my girl from one day of class. The other director had no problem with it. In fact, it was almost like he didn’t care. While this school director, carefully read the document, and after pondering a few moments, invited me into her office for a sit-down meeting. I timidly go into her office, not expecting any problems, and wishing I was wearing something more professional than my week old jeans and my baseball hat, my go-to solution when I haven’t taken a shower in a few days. The nun immediately started grilling me on why I’m here, and why I want to take this girl form class. I explained calmly my role as a Peace Corps volunteer, that I know this family personally, in fact I have spent both Christmas and New Years with them, and that this camp is a great opportunity for her, while meanwhile in the back of my mind, I’m expecting her to pull out her ruler and smack me.

Luckily there was no ruler, but the director was not pleased with my answers and wanted me to bring back one of her parents the next day. So back we go the next day, this time with the foresight to wear something more professional (and freshly bathed) while being accompanied by my girl’s mother. The nun asks the same questions to her mother as she did to me, and the mom responds with the same answers. Having heard it from a Peruvian’s mouth, and not a strange white girl’s mouth, the nun finally agreed. So off I go to make a copy of this official invitation, meanwhile nun is telling the girl’s mom what she originally thought I was there for…to steal her child! I heard all of this afterwards, but I couldn’t believe it! This nun actually thought I was going to kidnap this child, so that was the real reason she wanted me to bring her parent. Haha. I’m glad she was more concerned with the other director. The other director could hardly care at all that I was taken one of his students away. But still…

So after all that drama, my two girls and I finally made it to Cajamarca, specifically we were staying in Los Baños del Inca. These baths were apparently used by the ancient Incans and it’s the only hot water in the city. I originally had thought that this was just a tourist attraction, but turns out it’s a whole other city. And not only are their hot showers and baths, but swimming pools complete with the first water slide I have seen in Peru! You have no idea how happy this made me feel. While I’ve heard people who’ve swam in the pools have gotten skin and eye infections, I feel it’s worth the risk as it’s been a full 9 months since I’ve been in a lap swimming pool. Another fun thing we discovered about this hidden gem of a city is this store that sells a lot of American food. And I’m talking about tortillas, salsa, Cranberry juice, Diet coke, Nutella, snickers! It was unbelievable, and makes a S/5 cab ride completely worth it just for this store alone.

The weekend was packed full of activities. First, the girls were divided into five different teams, each with their own team leader. Girls are awarded points throughout the weekend based on if they are on-time to activities, if their beds are made, and if they had their eggs with them. Each girl was given an egg to decorate, name, and take care of for the entire weekend. It was something to teach them responsibility and also, why it’s good NOT to have a baby when you are too young. Throughout the weekend the girls learned about nutrition, sexual health, creativity, and public speaking. They also learned team work in the form of low ropes course activities aka my old job at the Challenge Course. We had a few stations of different activities, mine being pipeline. The kids had a lot of fun, and it was great being a facilitator again. In the evenings we had craft and movie time, along with a bonfire in which we roasted S’mores or as we say in Spanish S’mas. (Get it?!) We finished the weekend with a talent show and awards, and the girls went back to their communities.

All and all it was a great experience and it made me appreciate my childhood even more, as I have realized that I have been given many opportunities growing up to go on trips, overnight camps, and seminars. Meanwhile kids here don’t get many opportunities like that, so it is great to share that with them. I’m looking forward to the next camp, as it is my time to slip back into my pose as a youth volunteer.

But shhhhh don’t tell anyone…

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Chevere Error

I´ve heard from a couple people that my link to the newsletter doesn´t work (go figure...). So, to remedy this fact, if you would like to read it, just send me an email and I will get it to you as soon as I can.

Other than that, things are going good in site. Starting my english classes while some interesting developments have happened in the form of a possible youth center in my community as well as starting a nutrition program in my primary school. Meanwhile, my community is getting ready for our town festival at the end of June. There´s apparently going to be 4 bandas tipicas (aka Hayno), food 24 hours in the plaza (which means a cuy massacre coming...), a parade (my youth group gets to march!), and a running of the bulls (eventhough we don´t have a stadium...this should be interesting).

Emails and letters are always welcome! :-) Hope everyone is doing well!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Keeping it Chevere

Being a volunteer involves not just working for your community, but also for the cause itself. Some volunteers chose or have been chosen to be a part of the bigger organization that is Peace Corps in Peru, me included. There are five Peace Corps initiatives that volunteers work towards developing in site, which are youth development, women and gender in development, HIV/AIDS, Teaching English, Information Technology, and renewable energy. There is also volunteers that are apart of VAC (Volunteers Activities Committee), which are in charge of sharing grievances on the behalf of volunteers to the head honchos of Peace Corps. And then there are the publications, which every program has, and is where I fall into place.

Last month I went to Lima to work on health’s quarterly newsletter called “Chevere” (Spanish for “cool”), in which I was co-editing along with another health volunteer. Each newsletter has a different theme with this last one focusing on recycling and trash management. I wanted to share that with you all to give you a further glimpse into what I do as a Peace Corps volunteer.

Enjoy and keep being chevere!

https://docs.google.com/fileview?id=0B5oPyeJ9ShHbMmM5NGQyNGQtMjdjMy00YjQyLTk0M2YtMzc3MjNlZWIwYjBj&hl=en

Hi Ho Hi Ho...

...it´s off to work I go...

So most of you are probably still wondering, what do I do in site? Well I can proudly say that after 6 months, I finally doing what I came here to do: health promotion!

Peace Corps told us that we wouldn’t start working until 6 months, but I couldn’t believe it….I mean, what would we be doing for those first 6 months?? Well, I will tell you….we were getting to know our host family, and our host community by doing our community diagnostic and just participating in everyday activities. I celebrated Christmas and New Years at site, as well as the ever-so-famous Carnaval celebrations. I also learned how to make tamales, walk up the mountain to collect firewood, and work in the fields. While all of this wasn’t what I came here to do, it definitely helped me understand life here better, and also the people.

But now, I’m ready to get to work. After my parents left, I had made a 2 page to-do list of all the things I wanted to get accomplished. And when I said I was going to hit the ground running, I meant it…and haven’t stopped yet. I talked with a lot of people in town to start getting projects going, and I think things are finally coming together.

More progress has come out of this “Project Design and Management” conference in which I brought one of my counterparts in Lima. We learned how to make a vision statement, goals, objectives….down to the work plan and budget. It was a lot of information in 3 days, but it was worth it. My counterpart and I, along with Barbara and her counterpart, are going to be working on a project focusing on raising gardens and small animals in order to decrease malnutrition.

So here are some projects I’m going to be working on in the next year or so:

• Healthy School Project: I’m going to be going into the Primary schools (potentially three) training teachers and students alike on different themes of health (nutrition, washing hands, safe water, recycling/trash, self esteem, and dental hygiene)

• Youth Groups: I will be working in both the primary and high school in youth groups. In the bigger group, I’m going to be focusing on self esteem and leadership skills and hopefully training them to become health promoters. In the younger group, I’m going to be just working with basic health topics and playing games and activities.

• English Class: While it’s not my first choice, I’ve been asked to teach English in both the primary and high school. I’m going to be teaching the 5th grade in high school on Mondays and the 4th and 5th grades in the primary school twice a week.

• Tree Planting: The volunteer before me started a pine tree nursery, and the plants are now ready to plant. I got replacement seeds as well, so I’m going to continue that tree nursery.

• School Garden: The primary school has a small plot of land perfect for a school garden. Incidentally, it’s where the pine trees are right now. But once those are planted, we will work the land and plant radishes, lettuce, beets, carrots, beans…a different vegetable for every grade. Meanwhile giving talks in the schools on how to prepare the land, how to care for plants, and how to make them grow.

• Small Animal Husbandry/Gardening project: With the help of Barbara and her counterpart, we are going to work on getting a grant for this project. Its focus is on decreasing malnutrition by teaching mothers with children less than 5 years old and pregnant mothers how to incorporate those local products in their diets.

So that’s the plan for now. There is definitely a lot on my plate now, which is what I wanted a few months ago. But now that it’s finally here, I’m almost wishing for the days when all I did was hang with the family…Funny how life is sometimes..

Monday, May 03, 2010

Back to Reality

My bags are packed, I've sipped my last starbucks, nibbled my last pieces of glorious bacon, and said goodbye to my warm shower...Now, it's back to reality for me.

It's always hard to go back to site and having been gone for a fair amount of time, which included seeing all my friends again and my parents, it's going to be about a millon times worse!

My parent's visit was a wonderful way to end it though. I took them through the gamet of Peru starting first in big city Lima at Larcomar. As we overlooked the beautiful Pacific ocean and sipping on our second Starbucks, I had to remind them "This isn't Peru." Far from it, actually.

For their first trip to Peru, I really wanted them to see the Peru that I see, which is why we were making the long and trechorous journey up north to Cajamarca, where you get away from the tourists and into the heart of Peru. What I learned though is that Peruvian transportation, while not so bad, is definitely not made for my 6 foot 5 giant of a father. But he was a good sport, and went along with the ever-lacking leg room. All apart of the adventure right?

After a Peruvian version of "Planes, trains, and automobiles" (In this case, Planes, buses, and moto-taxis), we made it to my site and was welcomed with open arms from my family and my commmunity. My parents even had the suerte to witness a real peruvian party complete with cuy and papas, music so loud you can't talk, awkward dancing, and warm beer. It was one of my neighborhood girl's quincieneras (15th birthday), which is a really big deal in Peru. And by iniviting complete strangers in to their home and feeding them until they can't eat no more, my parents got to witness the warm genorosity of Peruvians, something that I am always grateful for, and also the challenge I have with portion sizes.  It was hard to leave my site, as Peruvians give my mom a good run for their money on "guilt tripping." Many people wanted us to stay for a month...but alas, the trip must continue. We didn't leave empty handed though. My host mom did happen to be sent us away with a few goodies, namely a fried cuy included. To kill a cuy is a pretty big deal, especially since we have so few, so I was really touched.

Next stop on our tour de Peru was Trujillo. We had the option of staying in a traveler's hostel or stay in a nice hotel. At first we were going to go for the hostel and save some centimos for other things, but after the long bus rides and lack of leg room, we opted to go for broke, and stay at the hotel. That was probably the smartest decision we ever made as the hotel was amazing. Carpet? check. Warm showers? check. Chocolates on your pillow?! check, check. It doesn't take much to amaze me these days, but even my parents were impressed. So to celebrate, we had a delicious dinner complemented by my first bottle of real good wine in Peru (Naturally, the wine was from Spain and not Peru.) We did some touristy things (Chan Chan, Caballos de Paso), but mostly just relaxed and got caught up.

Since I was the only one that spoke Spanish, I handled all the travel arrangements, ordering of food, and general know-how of everything...plus I had the added stress of just maneuvrering people who haven't been in Peru as long as I have and teaching them Peruvian customs along the way. So I was starting to think that I would need another vacation from my vacation, but luckily, I got that near the end. But I got good merits from my "travelers," so I suppose if my future grad plans don't pan out, I have the option to become a tour guide.

So like I said before, it's back to reality for me. I've had plenty of time to think about my next plans for my community and I'm ready to hit the ground running. I just hope they remember who I am...

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

To be or not to be

A tourist….that is…

So sorry for my lack of blogging lately, I have been up and down the coast of Peru this month and have only just gotten to catch my breath. It’s a bit ironic the way Peace Corps makes it for us volunteers. The first 3 months we are supposed to stay in site and work on our community diagnostic, which is fine because we aren’t able to travel, but on the flip side, there are many days that you don’t do anything. But once your 3 month mark hit when you are finally able free to travel, you are also starting to do actual work…so it gets harder and harder to be out of site.

So far this month, I’ve been in my site a total of 5 days….6 days by the end of the month. Why you ask?! 1. Semana Santa Vacation to the jungle 2. Early-IST Training with other health volunteers in Tumbes/Piura and 3. Lima working on Chévere and waiting for my parents to arrive. So in between that time I was either in my site or en route, since Peru is a humungous country with the majority of the roads unpaved.

Looking ahead to this month back in January, I couldn’t be anything but ecstatic, but now that I have been away from my site for so long, I actually am missing my campo-life and am dying to get back to work. Even in Lima, when we have options up the wazooo for food, I’m actually craving my meal of rice, beans, and onions. Funny how things go…

I’m also learning what it means to be a tourist, someone who sees a culture, and me, a Peace Corps volunteer, someone who lives a culture. I used to get offended when people asked me if I was a tourist, almost wishing that being here for X-many months would somehow change my appearance. I then started to think about my response…am I tourist? Or am I something more?

After my two years of service, I’ll have lived in my adobe house, eaten traditional Peruvian dishes, and lived the life of a campesina…and while I will feel truly apart of my community and my new family in Peru… I will always be that foreigner who came for two years and then left to go back to her country.

So with having that finish line already in my mind, I’m using that as a motivation for my work and life in my community. I am only here for a limited time, but hopefully my presence will be felt much longer. And as much as the lack of comfort may get to me, all I have to do is remind myself that this is short-term, whereas this is life for the rest of my community. So if they can do, I can do it too.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

My own worst enemy

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.

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)

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.”

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Giving Light

To give light in Spanish means to give birth, which is very fitting as I saw my first live birth this week. Being a community health volunteer has its perks since I get to witness things that I wouldn’t normally see in the United States, namely a birth. This is how it went down:

Jessica, ob-gyn nurse: We have a patient at the health post that is going to give birth pretty soon.

Me: Cool. Could I come and watch?

Jessica: Sure, that would be fine. You can even take photos for us.

And boom, I’m right in on the action. Again, I cannot say enough how many things I do here that would not happen in the U.S. and for many of them, I’ve very thankful to be here to witness them, and photograph them to boot.

Being the youngest in a family of four, I’ve never had any younger siblings; nor do I have many young cousins, so I’ve never seen a woman giving birth before. And for those of you that know me, you know that I want to have a big family (4 or 5 kids tops), so it might be handy to see a woman in labor just to see what I would be getting myself into.

My nurses and I were hanging out at my house watching our one and only TV channel (Peruvian PBS basically), when the patient’s husband came running over to us to let us know that her labor had started. So up and out the door we went to the awaiting patient. Luckily we only had a good 10 steps to go as I live right next to the health post.

Now like I said before, I’ve never seen a birth, so I’m not sure what I was expecting. But from the movies (Shout out to “Father of the Bride”) and TV shows that I’ve seen, the typical position for a woman in labor , from what I’ve seen, is on her back, so I was a little surprised to see the woman squatting while her mother held on to her. Supposedly this position is ideal as gravity works with you instead of against to, so here I was, camera-in-hand as I stood awkwardly to the side witnessing her fight her contractions.

The nurses had laid a plastic mat on the ground to brace for “impact” of the baby covered with a few cut-up food bags to make the clean up easier. Jessica was kneeling all the while shouting “Empuje! Empuje! (Push! Push!)” while checking to see the babies progress. Before I knew it the mother pushed her last push and the baby just slid out, but again, my warped expectations told me that the baby should be crying by now, but instead there was just silence.

Doli, the other nurse, took the baby to the table immediately to start cleaning it up and taking the fluid out of the mouth and nose, but still, no crying. Minutes pass by and the baby was still not breathing and was quickly turning purple. Jessica immediately took over and started massaging the back and giving it small smacks to try to get the fluid out of the lungs, and even going so far as to start mouth to mouth breathing. Then after my prayers had been said, the baby miraculously started coughing up fluid and slowly opened its eyes. God’s miracle.

The grandmother, who was laying her daughter, who just gave birth, down to rest, came over with a smile. She sneaked a peek between the baby’s legs then walked over to the door and said with a smile to the awaiting family members “Tenemos una otra cocinera (We have another cook).” Putting Feminism aside, I simply laughed.

As time went on, the baby girl continued coughing up fluids and testing out her arms and legs in her new environment. And slowly, but surely, color came back to her cheeks and fingers. The family was then able to come in and I witnessed her family welcome her into the world.

While this birth turned had a happy ending, unfortunately so many other births in my town don’t. I was kind of surprised at the nonchalant attitude of my nurses when discussing how just the other day a baby died during labor. When I asked why that happened, they said it was mainly because the parteras or midwifes here don’t have much formal training. And all I could think of was that if this lady gave birth in her house, which many women do, her baby might have easily died if the partera didn’t know what to do when the baby came out.

Death is such a part of life here, that it doesn’t surprise people that much if a baby dies or not. And coming from a very developed nation, I keep on thinking how this would not happen in the U.S. And yes, I think our health care system is very messed up, but one thing they do well is give adequate care to patients and do anything they can to prevent a death.

Witness this birth has given me a new outlook at life and death in the sierra and also the idea to have a possible training with the midwives in the future. But the one thing that hasn’t changed is I still want those 5 kids. Well, maybe just 4.

Monday, February 15, 2010

A photo is worth a thousand words...

Finally heading back to the campo after a weekend full of water fights, paint wars, good friends, and awesome food.

Just wanted to show you a small piece of my weekend:



















Me and "mis chicas"

















Imagine "Gangs of New York/West Side Story" mixed with paint and that is Carnaval




















The Aftermath

More to come soon!

Thursday, February 11, 2010

School for Thought

6 weeks, 32 students later, and less patience later, my “Vacacciones Utiles” is finally over....and I couldn’t be happier. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little kiddies, but they were definitely a lot to handle. Most days were great and I felt like I was really teaching them something, but other days not so much…so I would say it was more of a love-hate relationship.

My primary kids were my first headache, since I didn’t know quite what to do with them. I’ve never had much experience with little ones, and I was probably frustrated because I was trying to teach them too much. But once I let go of my dream of having them actually speak my language and instead focused on English vocab, things went a lot better, especially when I started incorporating drawing into my class.

While even though the kids loved their drawing time, I was amazed at their lack of creativity and not just in drawing, but when we played other games as well. I blame this partly on the school system here, since the basic formula for teaching here is writing stuff on the board and having the kids copy it down. That’s about it. So when I tell kids to draw whatever they want to draw, they ask me “How? What should we draw?” And when I answer, “be creative,” I get blank stares back. Most of the time, the kids would run and find a book to copy a picture from. I can’t tell you how sad this makes me feel, since I feel like creativity was all about my childhood through playing house during recess to making “bomb squad” videos with my swimming friends. I don’t know what I would have done without it.

My secondary kids were originally the class I looked forward to because I could do more advance stuff with them like verb conjugation and grammar, but eventually they became my new headache. At times I felt like I was a ring leader trying to control my wild animals! I believe part of that has to do with the fact that I don’t speak their language, and hence couldn’t always think of a good way to control their rowdiness, but the other part has to do with good ol’ fashion hormones. Ha. Yeah for those. A lot of my time was spent trying to stop the boys from annoying (aka flirting) with the girls and vice versa. Good Lord.

Things I learned through my first go-through with teaching English? Simplicity is key. Flashcards are a god send. Never underestimate the joy of Bingo. And 5 days is waaaaay to much.

I am definitely thinking of continuing teaching English in my town, since there is no English teacher to speak of, but I think it’s going to be on my terms this time. One to two times TOPS a week, and the teacher better be there in attendance to quiet down the students.

So that’s about it. I survived my first time being a teacher. All those times of pretending to be a teacher growing up finally paid off. But overall, I’m pleased with how things. Even if my kids didn’t learn any English, at least they got to do something different and have fun in class, and I suppose in the end, that’s all I could ask for.

Sunday, February 07, 2010

The festivities have finally arrived...

...Roll up your windows…

...look before you cross the road...…

....because Carnival is finally here!

Ever since we first learned of our sites in Cajamarca, Carnival was one of the first thing that was mentioned. It just so happens that my department, Cajamarca, is home to one of the best Carnival festivities in Peru…so lucky for me!

Now I’m still learning what Carnival is about, but what I’ve deduced is that it’s a lot like “Mardi Gras” in the states, but I think done on a bigger scale. It also has a special twist to it, which is water balloon fights…all…the…time. I believe the first water balloon was thrown at me in mid-January, and the festivities don’t officially start until February 12th, so people get really excited about celebrating it here.

Usually I’m not targeted in my site, but when I venture down to Bambamarca, our combi is usually under fire to a few suspecting kids down the road who are waiting with water balloons and water guns in hand. I didn’t realize what was going to happen at first, but luckily I had my host brother sitting next to me because he had the bright idea of rolling up the window….and just in time too because moments later, our combi was pounded with water balloons. Thank god for having a seat inside.

But on other occasions, I haven’t been so lucky. It’s usually a 50-50 chance of getting a seat inside the car, and last weekend as I was headed back to Bambamarca, as the car slowly turned around a corner we were like sitting ducks! And before we knew it, had water balloons tossed at us. Luckily I saw one coming and ducked just in time, but my friend next to me wasn’t as lucky…as she got it right in the face. But a few minutes later we were all soaked as some kid had sprayed us with a hose…so as you can see, no one is safe during Carnival. My plans are to fill up water balloons and give them to the people in a combi, so that we can all nail those kids coming into town. They won’t know what hit them.

This coming weekend I’m heading down to Cajamarca, our capital, which is where the heart of Carnival is. I don’t know exactly what to expect, but what I do know is that one day is completely devoted to water balloon fighting and the next day, paint fighting. Yes, I said paint. Apparently people throw paint and sometimes even oil and eggs at people…I honestly don’t know what is going to happen, but what I do know is that it’s going to be a lot of fun.

I’ve met some Peace Corps volunteers that absolutely loathe Carnival, but to me, I think it’s a chance for everyone to be a kid again. And since I feel like a kid most of the time, this festival is right up my alley. So wish me luck! There will be lots of crazy pictures to come, that I am sure of.

Sunday, January 31, 2010

The day the electronics died...

So about every two weeks or so, I’ve had just about enough of my remote site and go into Chota with my other peace corps friends for a weekend full of good food, English, and best of all internet. But this weekend, little did we know, things would be a bit different.

It started first with the cell phone signal. Usually I have pretty good signal in my site, but for some reason I didn’t have any on Friday. I thought it was just a fluke, so I didn’t start to worry until I got to Chota and I still didn’t have signal. Didn’t think it was a big deal until I realized that without cell phones, there was no way to find out where my friend was. So decided to go to the restaurant we always go to and just play on the internet until she gets there.

So we go to our restaurant and find out…no internet. Without cell phone signal, the internet doesn’t appear to work. So that wasn’t the greatest news, but I figured people would be working to get the signal back in no time right? Then my friend Barbara, who finally found us at the restaurant, reminds me that “Annie, we aren’t in America. This is Peru.” Which means sometimes things don’t get fixed so quickly…But no sweat, I thought. At least we can still watch a movie or something on my computer, but no…here comes the kicker.

We find out that on Saturday, the city of Chota was planning a black-out to do some maintenance on the electricity. So there you go folks: no cell phone, no internet, and no electricity. It’s almost as if I was back at my site. Ha.

So what did we do? We went and played basketball with some friends and their host family and then went over to their house for some good ol’ “Jenga” and lunch. Turns out that without phones, internet, and electricity, we actually had a pretty fun day. So when the electricity finally turned back on and cell phone signal came back, we weren’t so desperate to run back to it all.

So lesson learned? Life still happens without electronics, and it’s not all that bad. But do I still love cell phones, internet, and electricity? With my whole heart, yes.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

P-P-P-Pictures

Here are some photos from my past couple of months...enjoy!


Making banana pancakes with my Cajamarqueñas chicas



These crazy boys did a community map for me (Part of my communnity diagnostic)


Farmer Annie! Me planting semillas with the help of my padres: Brocolli, Radishes, Zucchini, Pumpkin, Lettuce, Spinach, and Cabbage! Yum Yum!


My host grandma pouring fresh milk to take back down the mountain. There is nothing like fresh milk! (Sorry, couldn't resist...)


My living room complete with TV and DVD player. My room is right on the left.


Caras Locas with my relatives. Selene, the one with the spatula, is waving the Panchamanca, the traditional peruvian food of the sierra.


My cousins and brother making Papa Rellenas, glorified french fries with eggs stuffed inside. MMmm good!


New Year's Eve 2009! My whole family and our two burning muñecas


Coffee and puffy jackets make Annie a happy girl!



The Christmas stockings I made my host family


My Room and all it's glory. Here's hoping to cement floors pretty soon...


Christmas Eve dancing the night away...


My kitchen...it looks more like a storage closet, but it does the trick.


Me and my host cousin and friend posin' with the muñecas

Introducing...the CHALI!

Señoras and Senores, are you tired of carrying that heavy bag over your pained shoulder? Tired of being caught in the rain without an umbrella? Tired of not having anything to wear when doing your washing your last pair of pants?

Well LOOK to further…Your answers have finally been answered…thanks to the CHALI!

The Chali is a multifaceted, brightly colored, finely crafted, piece of cloth that really has it all…

Need to haul manure to the chacras, but don’t have a wheel barrow? No problem! Just Chali-it!

Need to sit on a wet, dirty ground waiting for the next combi to arrive? No problem! Just Chali-it!

Need to carry your 5-year child to the health post? No problem! Just Chali-it!




The Chali is easy to use…Simply, lay your Chali on the ground. Next, place whatever you need to carry in it and then, gather both ends and hoist it up over your back, and simply tie a knot. It’s that easy!

The Chali is a certifiable and trusted all over Peru, just listen to one of our many supporters…

Juana Marina Carajulcra Ruez of San Juan de Lacamaca says “The Chali has made a world of difference in my life. Before I had to make 2 or 3 trips up the mountain a day because I didn’t have enough hands to carry all my potatoes back. But with the Chali, I only need to make that trip once and can be back in time to milk my cows before lunch!”

The Chali has revolutionized blankets everywhere by using the strongest part of the body, the back, and have put all backpacks to shame by a having limitless capacity. There is no knowing how much a person can fit in their Chali.




According to Lindomira Flor Idrogo Garcia of Ahijadero, “I’m able to carry more than twice my weight of firewood on my back using the Chali and the best part is I can even KNIT while I go down the mountain.”

The Chali can be used to carry large loads of anything imaginable from firewood to small children to roof tiles to tanks of gas. It can also be used in cold weather to bundle up or hover under during the long rainy season. It even can be used as nice dining room table cloth, once cleaned after use. The uses are really endless…

So hurry up to your local mercado and haggle yourself a good deal with the Chali. Prices start at 20 soles, and don’t forget to ask for your chela!


My Host Brother and Cousin going to Grandma's House...

Friday, January 08, 2010

Rhinestones are a girl's best friend

So since the holidays are now over, I finally have to think about my job at hand: my community diagnostic. And frankly, that is a daunting task. And since I don’t have any projects going at the moment, I find that when I have a lot of time on my hand, I tend to over-analyze things (analysis paralysis as it is called…) and question my being in Peru. So when I get in those moods, what always cheers me up is….CRAFT TIME! My latest project has been wanting to BLING-out my cell phone, so I set out today in search of rhinestones...

But something as simple as finding rhinestones  in the U.S. seems to turn into a major goose-egg hunt in Peru. If I were in the land of amazing (aka U.S. of A), I would simply jump in my car and drive to Michael’s arts and crafts and maybe even stop by Dutch bros to grab a quick coffee…all in the span of 20 min.

In Peru, however, first you have to figure out how to say rhinestones in Spanish which you awkwardly try to describe as “those things that are like pearls but sparkle and are small.” Then ask a person where one might find rhinestones and are pointed to the nearest fabric store. Go to the fabric store and stumble through your half-hazard description and get shown buttons instead. Then find another fabric store nearby and instead of finding rhinestone, find men’s underwear called “stripper” (no joke!). Then almost give up, but find one more fabric store. Go in and get told they don’t have any, but get shown another store where they think they might have them. You walk in and think you’ve hit the jackpot, as there are spools of sparkly ribbon and glitter everywhere. Again describe the elusive rhinestones that you are so feverishly looking for and instead are shown sequins, which you determine to be just as good as rhinestones. Then it finally dawns on you that the cell phone you were planning on “be-dazzling” with rhinestones is rented and therefore, cannot be defaced.

You walk away and shake your head while trying to control you laughter, as laughter is probably the only thing that will stop you from crying.

So another day has come and gone and Peru has gotten the best of me. But tomorrow is a new day…with new possibilities…and new craft ideas...

Saturday, January 02, 2010

Goodbye Christmas, Hello New Years!

(written in my room on Dec. 31, 2009)

So Christmas has come and gone, and things are more or less back to the way things are. I tried to remind myself of the experiences I was having rather than focusing on the things that I was missing and that more or less worked. I mean, it’s not every day that you get to celebrate Christmas by having a dance off to 80’s music with your very inebriated uncle. That is for sure, but hey, I’m not going to have another Christmas like it, so better enjoy it right?. Christmas Eve was full of everything I thought it would be: dancing, beer, paneton, dancing, cocoa, and more dancing…and as soon as midnight rolled around, everyone said “Feliz Navidad” and went on their merry way.

Christmas day itself was a bit uneventful in that I slept in until 10:30 am (which is the longest I have slept in ever in Peru), had the biggest and weirdest breakfast ever (cold soup, rice and cuy, left over paneton, and biscuits in honey), then basically sat around outside enjoying the sunshine. I also opened the rest of my Christmas gifts my parents sent me (and I mean “rest” because I couldn’t wait 5 days to open them all…sorry Mom), and had my own mini-Christmas in my room complete with Handel’s Messiah playing in the background.

My stockings were a hit with the host family. I think they forgot that they were to be filled on Christmas day, so I had to bring them to them or else I’m pretty sure they would have hung on the wall until the New Year. I had stuffed them full of sweets and a small gift. For my mom I gave her some earrings since she had her ears pierced, but didn’t have any earrings. Well I had the earrings wrapped at the market in some wrapping paper, so as she would get to open at least something…When she pulled out the wrapped gift, she starting stroking the paper and saying how beautiful it was and asking where I had bought it. It then dawned on me that she thought I had actually given her wrapping paper for Christmas, so I politely told her that there was something else inside. Needless to say the earrings were a big hit. Take THAT American consumerism!

Since then I’ve been trying to occupy my time to the best of my abilities since people still appear to be on vacation. All the professors have left, since school is out and the majority of them live out of town, and as for the health post, most of my community partners are still on holiday vacation. So I’m mainly been biding my time with my host family by hiking up the mountain (to grandma’s house we go...literally), planting my first garden (let’s see if I have my mom’s famous green thumb), learning how to make papas rellenos (glorified French fries stuffed with meat), and eating my first REAL sierra-style panchamanca (complete with bananas!). I’ve also taught my cousins and brother the chorus to “Jingle Bells” and they haven’t been able to stop singing it, so the Christmas spirit may very well last until summer at the rate they are going.

But now comes the time for yet another Peruvian celebration: New Years. It’s basically like Christmas only bigger, better, and stuff on fire. Like any other holiday, Peruvians do it up in style and New Years means burning life-sized dolls made of old clothing and stuffed with hay. My host dad, at this very moment, is putting the finishing touches on our two dolls. Unfortunately I didn’t have any clothing to spare, as my clothing is few and far between, but that wasn’t a problem. My host family appears to stock pile old clothing special for this occasion. New Years also consists of some other “not-so-American” customs, one being to wear different colored underwear: yellow (luck), red (love), and green (money). My host mom bashfully admitted that she only ever wears red underwear on New Years. Ha. Oh my! Peruvians also crawl under the table to eat 12 grapes come midnight, as well as bathe at midnight. 1. I’m not sure we even have grapes and 2. I have a hard time getting in the cold shower during the hottest hour of the day, so not sure how I feel at the dead of night. And last, but not least, no Peruvian celebration is complete with dancing and the passing of the beer bottle. So it looks like I’m in for another night to remember…

Everyone keeps on asking what Americans do to celebrate the New Years and honestly I don’t even know. I mean, as far as my past New Years’ go, it mainly consists of hanging out with friends and more or less watching the Time Square party on TV. But somehow watching a giant ball drop is not the same as seeing a life-sized doll go up in flames.

So on that note, I need to go find my lighter… Hope everyone has a great New Year! Espero que tengan un Feliz Año Nuevo!

Now for some photos from the past few weeks:




















Making French Toast in my kitchen
















The view outside my house. The yellow building is my health post, we are neighbor-ee-nos...




















This is our only source of water, which is right outside our front door. That is my host mom, Adela, collecting some water to cook lunch with.



This is me trying to find out who my "Amigo Secreto" was...and by jobe, I got it right!



This is Brando, one of my host dogs, and my friend Diana at the 6th grade graduation



This is a map of San Juan de Lacamaca. I live in Sector 4 (81 families).



This are some ladies in the caserio, Ahijadero, about a 45 min walk from my house. The women in my site where the typical clothing of the sierra: skirts, cardigans, and tall hats. And most every woman I know can knit up a storm.

















This is me and my cousin Marion, who just graduated high school...their graduations are a lot like our proms, but I never recieved the dress code memo. ha.


A little girl in a caserio where I helped vaccinate dogs.


"Service is the rent we pay to be living."
-Marian Wright Edelman