"Has engordado?"

As I make my weekly mercado visits to Bambamarca, the closest “big” city near my pueblo, I may hear the following statements in a combination of English and Spanish from random people in the streets: 

“Hello”

“I love you”

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5….”

“Hey baby”

“Where are you from?”

“Oooooh Baby”

Surprisingly enough, these don’t bother me too much anymore. I know I am in Latin America where “machismo” is alive and kicking, so I suppose I just turn a blind eye to what goes on around me—knowing I won’t be able to make much of a difference.

I’ve actually gotten so good at ignoring men that one time, a pack of young boys were whistling at me for about 20 minutes trying to get my attention. But since I thought that they were just being “boys,” I ignored them, until I actually started to listen to what they were saying, which was “You dropped your wallet!” Doh! I chastised them for not knowing how to respectfully get a woman’s attention, but alas, my wallet was lost forever. Ha.

So basically, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

Luckily I don’t have to deal with that in my actual community of San Juan de Lacamaca. From the first day I got there, in front of a big crowd of people, the elementary school director told everyone to respect me as if I was their daughter. Awwww. So I’ve never had any problems, only from people who visit my town and aren’t from there, will I get hassled a bit.

But what I do have to deal with, which is something I despise, are comments from my community partners or host family. Comments that go like this: 

“Wow Annie, you have really gotten fatter”

“You must really like the guinea pig because you are fatter”

“How much weight have you gained since being here?”

“You can really tell that you have gained a lot of weight” [while poking my stomach]

Weight is the weirdest thing here. Exercising in a gym is practically unheard of here; meanwhile people eat heaps and heaps of potatoes, rice, and noodles at the same time.  So it’s not like there are super flaquitas walking around. In fact, the ladies that always mention my weight are the bigger ones. So I’m not quite sure why they are calling the kettle black! No?!

Depending on my mood, I answer differently. Sometimes, I agree and say “Yes, I do like fried guinea pig. I have eaten it a lot and now have gained weight.” Because let’s face it, it’s the truth. Women PCV’s gain weight and men PCV’s lose it. It’s just how it is. So sometimes I just try to go along and even joke with the women by saying “Yes, I have a potato child in my belly” or something like that.

But if I’m in a particularly bad mood, let’s say, I am not afraid to throw my wrath their way by saying “Look who’s talking?! It looks like YOU like fried guinea pig too!” or “you look like you’ve gained a few kilos yourself, no?” What comes around goes around.

I try to take the “cultural” approach and think about why they would say such a thing, when in the culture in the states it is absolutely taboo to speak about weight, especially to women! And I would have to say that sometimes here, people are just more open with their opinions and descriptions. They openly call people by how they look, such as “chino” (Asian), “negro” (dark), “gorda” (fat), “chato” (short), etc. So of course, weight fits under that category. Also, people are proud to be fatter, since that means they are rich enough to eat well, my host mom especially. I will have to watch her like an aguila to make sure she doesn’t pile on the rice and potatoes, when I only ask her for a little bit. She will even go as far as to turn her back to me, so that I can’t see her.  So I guess, all and all, I don’t think they say it to be spiteful, but it still doesn’t mean I like it.

All I know is that the first thing I do when I go home is join a gym, so I guess I can thank the Peruvians for their added motivation. Just don’t call me fat or you might get an elbow to the face.

The Quest

For those that are still avid followers of my blog after these two years (if there are any...), you will have probably noticed my lack of posting lately. This last months have been crazy, as I'm finishing up projects, saying goodbye, and packing my bags. 

I don't exactly know what I'm feeling at this moment, since it changes about every day. I suppose I would have thought that I would feel sadder, but as the days come closer I'm getting more excited for my "next adventure" ahead. Granted, I will probably cry like a new born baby when I leave, but I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach--excitement/fear/sadness/anxious/happy. It's the same feeling I had when I was leaving my home two years ago to go to Peru and become a Peace Corps volunteer.

I recently ran across this blog, "The Art of Non-Conformity" written by Chris Guillebeau (http://chrisguillebeau.com/3x5/the-quest/?awt_l=C9Ksl&awt_m=JwGK0.P_Psnt7W) . He has made it his goal to travel to every country in the world by his 35 birthday. Here is what he has to say:

At first, you weren't sure you had it in you. Fear, doubt, naysayers, and what-ifs threatened to hold you back. You left anyway, determined to see it out.   

The people around you talked about consequences and the risk of uncertainty. Wouldn't it be safer not to go? Wouldn't you be better off homebound, shut off from the world in the comfortable setting you knew so well? You smiled and went anyway, knowing the real truth: consequences can just as well be positive. Unexpected surprises can be good. 

But if you don't go, you'll never know for sure. You embraced the logic of the underdog: the last shall be first; the poor shall be rich; blessed are those who live for adventure, for they shall never die with regrets. These things kept you alive along the way: 

The love of good friends. 
The belief in yourself. 
The conviction that your life should count for something.  
The resoluteness of purpose.  

Others debated whether the journey or the destination was more important; you split the difference by choosing to enjoy them both. 

It's good to arrive, but it's good to enjoy the ride. At the end, you rest for a while. And then you're ready to do it again.

No Water or No Electricity?

You have a lot of free time in Peace Corps. The hours when you are not teaching a hand washing charla for the umpteenth time or trying to track down your mayor, you spend your time pondering life’s great questions: What is the best number of people to travel with? Why doesn’t Derek make up with Meridith already? Or my favorite...What is worse: having no water or no electricity?

Now there have been various times throughout my service that I have had to go without one or the other.

When the electricity goes out, as it goes, it’s usually at a time when I seriously need to do work on my computer. I never thought how much I would be using my computer in Peace Corps for both work and otherwise. Even though there is no internet in my community, I write emails at home and save them to a thumb drive, so when I go to the internet cabina, all I have to do is copy and paste. I’ve also been given a plethora of TV and movie shows to help pass the time during rainy season, so again, without electricity, no dice. 

So what do I do? That’s when I turn to good ol’ book reading, but by the looks of my English grammar, this hasn’t happened that often. I came into the Peace Corps thinking I would spend most of my time reading all the American classics, but instead been watching all the American TV shows.  My computer battery has been plugged into so many sketchy outlets, that the battery now only last an hour; just enough time for one episode of West Wing. 

Another consequence of no electricity is my lack of coffee in the morning, as I use an electric water heater. You might be saying, “But Annie, is that really necessary?” I’ve learned many things in Peru and one of which is that coffee makes me a happier person, and this hot water heater is my ticket to freedom. But of course, even that is not dependable, as I’ve gone through two already and as I am so close to going home, have been holding out by just using the heated up tea water my host mom makes me. It’s not the best, but it does the job. 

When I go to my bi-monthly trips to Chota, I usually go for the sole purpose of getting8+ hours of fast internet to catch up on my emails and work (read: facebook). So when there is no electricity, that plan goes out the ventana along with my sanity. 

The only good thing about not having electricity is that you can still do things, like cooking. People here either use gas stoves or wood, neither of which requires electricity. I once made a very delicious French onion soup one night with my head lamp. As we were trying to figure out the light situation, the onions just kept on caramelizing. MMMmm delicious. 

But is that worse than going without electricity? When we have no water in site, it’s also at a time when I’m very dirty and in need of a good bucket bath. The water seems to go more frequently than the electricity. My town has been “fixing” the tubes for a while, so there are times when we won’t have water for 3 or more days. 

There is a pozo nearby that my host mom will fetch water from, a few buckets a day. And honestly, in the campo it doesn’t seem to upset life too much, as not many people shower or need water anyway. If anything, the dishes pile up a bit more, but again, we just leave them outside, so no big whoop. Where having no water becomes a problem is in the city, especially Chota, when things start to smell inside due to the bathroom not flushing or the dishes/people being dirty.

So if I would have to rank the two necessities, I would have to say water definitely outranks electricity. With water, I can accomplish all my basic needs: coffee, bathing, and cooking whereas without electricity, I am just without my pleasures: internet and computer time. 

Now not having either one? I’d rather not think about…

-

Living the Simple Life

I firmly believe that you can get used to anything with a little time, at least that has been my experience here in Peru. 

For my first six months, I had dirt floors, a straw mattress, and slept in my sleeping bag each night. It was definitely not the Marriot, but I got used to it and was just fine. And now, after two years, using a latrine, for instance, is second-nature to me.

 

Living without luxury has taught me what I can live without, and the things that I can’t, well they are just a bit more challenging here, which is why taking a shower in the campo is such a big accomplishment. 

Here are a few things that I’ve taken for granted in the states, that from now one, I never will:

Drinking from the Tap: Just the other day my friend was telling a Peruvian about water fountains, and he couldn’t believe it. Why? Because drinking water from the tap is taking a gamble that you might ingest some unwanted parasite. Water in Peru, even in Lima, is untreated, which is why many kids are running around with parasites in their little bellies. I haven’t for certain had one, but I’ve had my suspicions, and I know many other volunteers that have had more than their share. So what do I do? Well I normally boil my water with an electric water boiler, then save the water in a bucket so it can cool down. Other people chlorinate their water, and well let’s be honest, a lot of people just drink from the tap, which is part of my frustration as a health volunteer.

Taking a hot shower: There are some volunteers that choose to take cold showers, but I’m not one of them. I feel that if are able to be comfortable, than why not? No reason to suffer. So about every 3 or 4 days, I prepare myself a hot bucket  bath, which consists of boiling about 4 jars of water and mixing 2 of cold, and splish-splash give yourself a bath. It takes a lot of time waiting for the water to boil, so it usually occupies my entire morning, which is why if I take a bucket bath, my day is pretty much done. 

Getting in your car to go to the store: First off, I don’t own a car here nor can drive, so my only form of transportation is waiting for a truck to drive by my house, which can be a bit tricky. There is no schedule for the trucks, but I’ve learned more or less when they are most likely to be passing by my house: in the morning before school, right after lunch, and in the evening. Every other time, it is just by chance. So I get all my stuff ready to go and wait outside listening for the distance dirt pounding of the truck coming down from the plaza or sometimes I’m in my room when I hear the car coming down the mountain, so I race to stuff things in my bag and out the door I go, waving my hands and trying to whistle at them to stop. Sometimes they do and often times, they don’t. If I have enough time on my hands and it isn’t raining, I prefer to walk to the nearest town since it’s a nice camino and all downhill. This also occupies half the day, so I only do it once a week, but it’s something I really enjoy. 

Finding what you need at the store: This is the other half of the problem. Once you get to town, it’s not always guaranteed that you will find what you want. Supermarkets only exist in the big capital cities, so everywhere else there are just small tiendas that have random stuff. This can be sometimes frustrating, but if you are in a good mood, can be kind of fun since it’s like a treasure-hunt. For instance, we have our places to find skim milk, wantons, cheese bread, chinese sweet and sour sauce. And once we find these things, we go back to the same store and almost reward these store owners. Since a lot of stores have a lot of the same stuff, I’ve learned that loyalty goes a long way. So I have a bread lady, an orange lady, a cheese man, etc. And if you go to these people long enough, they might even give you a yapa, which is a little something extra. 

Putting on a movie: My laptop is my life here. Honestly, wouldn’t know what to do without it, since a bunch of volunteers share TV shows and movies, so a lot of times I find myself without anything to do, so I put on a movie on my computer. Yeah for 17 inch screens! This is only complicated when there is no electricity. My computer battery has been pretty fried since getting to Peru, so it now only lasts one hour without power, so I have to be selective when I’m not sure if the power is coming back on. 

Going to the gym: The campo is your gym. Gyms don’t exist in my town neither do they in the town below me. In fact, people don’t really exercise or at least they don’t call it that. They call it feeding the pigs, taking the cows to water, and harvesting corn. I pretty much gave up on “exercising” a year into site, so instead I just make sure that I walk every day or work in my garden. That’s enough for right now. 

Cooking yourself dinner: This one is a hard one in my house since cooking yourself dinner requires lighting a fire, waiting for the fire to heat up, then try not to burn your dinner. I’ve made only a few dishes while living at my host families house and cooking with an open flame has it’s challenges, so I just stick to baking cakes.  

Going to the bathroom: This is always a fun one, since my bathroom is a latrine that is located outside about 30 yards away that is protected by a very hungry pig. I’m used to using a latrine, it’s just the constant battle I fight with the pig because every time I go he thinks I bring food for him, so then he attacks me and practically tries to bring the latrine down while I’m in it. Another hazard of using a latrine is the weather.  If, for example, I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night while it’s rainy, it’s not as if I’m happy to brave the cold and dark. So while it’s not glamorous, I keep a handy dandy bucket in my room for emergencies. 

Calling your friend on the phone: Thank goodness Peace Corps gives us cellphones in which we can call other PCV’s for free, but that’s only possible with cell phone service. 3G does not exist where I live, so my conversations are often time interrupted by the constant dropped signal, sometimes 5 or 6 times in one conversation. 

Checking your email: There used to be an internet café in my town, but loading my email took so long that I would rather wait a few days to go to the nearest town then sit there and have kids stare at me. The nearest town, which is a 20 minute car ride or 1 hour long walk, has many internet cafes and even wifi in a certain hotel.  I prefer to walk, if the weather is nice, as I get to kill two birds with one stone: internet and exercise. I’m really only able to do this once a week, so I try to do all my market shopping and errands, while I’m in town. It makes for a nice afternoon. 

Garbage pick-up: Never really realized how convenient and civilized it is to have your trash picked up once a week. In my town, trash management doesn’t exist nor does the idea that throwing trash out the window is not good. I literally cringe when I see someone throw trash on the ground and many times find myself saying something. But how can you blame them? They haven’t been taught that it is bad for the environment, and even if they did, there is no place to even throw trash as trash cans are practically obsolete.

Please help donate to support our Girls Camp!

Dear Friends and Family,

As you all know, I'm currently working and living in Cajamarca, Peru as a Community Health Peace Corps volunteer. Throughout my 2-years here in Peru, I have been able to immerse myself in the language and culture of the people in Cajamarca and especially see the realities for many people, especially teenage girls. Girls aren't given many opportunities and I have known many girls that are expected to drop their studies in order to work in the house (My host mom is one of those examples--with only a primary school education). Girls are also given less opportunities in school to learn about sexual education and improve their self esteem, both of which contribute to high rates of teenage pregnancy.

To help combat this problem, Peace Corps volunteers in the Cajamarca region are coming together to help put on Camp A.L.M.A. (Actividades de Liderazgo para Mujeres Adolescentes) which will provide an opportunity for young women to instill leadership skills, health education, and promote personal and professional advancement through a variety of activities. Local institutions, as well as professionals, will be donating their expertise and a variety of materials to ensure the success and sustainability of the camp.

Here is a little video I made of photos and videos from last year's camp to get a better idea:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwAH7tmO71M

But we need more help from you....

Our Camp is funded 55% by local communities in Peru, leaving 45% from outside sources aka this grant. In order for this camp to take place, we need to collect $2518 by September 22nd, the start of our Camp A.L.M.A.

Please follow the link below and donate what you can. Every little bit will help. And yes, your donation will be tax deductible :-)

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=527-066

If you have any questions or comments, please let me know and of course, please pass this on to anyone you think that would be interested in donating. 

 

Thank you so much! Muchismias Gracias!

Closing of Service?

Well I’ve made it folks. Made it to my COS or Closing of Service conference, for those not familiar with Peace Corps lingo. The COS conference marks the end of your service, the last time you will see everyone in one place, and the first time to really start thinking about the future…

I thought I had everything figured out before I got there, but now I would say I’m more confused than ever…

Being a Peace Corps volunteer is probably one of the strangest jobs that can exist. The fact that your everyday emotions go from very high to very low, the fact that you are plopped in a community that you know nothing about and that they know nothing about you, and after all is said and done, go back to your “home” with a mixture of excitement/fear/confusion. 

I have finally decided my official last day of Peace Corps and it is November 21, 2010. That is exactly two years from when I swore in as a Peace Corps volunteer. We have the option of COSing up to a month beforehand, but I learned of a small clause regarding my schools loans that if I want them to be canceled, I have to serve a full 2 years. Bah. But I guess, it doesn’t bug me too much, as it will give me more time to finish up things in my community, say goodbye to people, and hopefully relax a bit more. 

So as I am staring at my blank calendar for the months ahead, I just know time is going to fly and whether that is a good thing or not, I haven’t quite figured that out.

Raise the Roof

There are two seasons in Cajamarca: Rainy and non-rainy. During the months of October to April, it pretty much rains every day for sure in the afternoon making it difficult to leave your house without getting mud caked on your boots about 1 foot deep. However, during the other half of the year, especially in July to September, it is pretty dry in Cajamarca making it prime time to build houses. 

As with the spirit of generosity and togetherness that is often found in Peru, during the dry months of the year people get together to build houses. Around my town, houses are typically built with adobe bricks, which are made out of mud and straw then left outside to dry until they are hard. Recently down the street from me, there was an adobe house being built, but unfortunately the structure did not hold up, so now it is collapsed before even getting finished.

With the 2 years that I have been here however, I’m noticing that more and more houses are being built by brick and cement, which obviously requires more money. But like most construction projects in Peru, people build until the money runs out, which often results in buildings being half done for quite some time. Regardless, there are about 4 or 5 brick houses being built in and around my town, one of which is my neighbors’ house. 

Tia Shiba, I call her, is building a house for one of her daughters on her front lawn, which is big enough for sure. It didn’t take long for the group of peones or workers to finish the house, and I was fortunate enough to partake in the house finishing celebration, also called the Pararaico. 

Pararaicos are typical in the sierra of Peru, as it involves a massacre of cuyes enough to feed the workers, the family, and anyone else that shows up, as well as potatoes, soup, and chicha, a fermented corn drink. They also involve naming a padrino or godfather for the house, and of course drinking and hauyno dancing until the sun comes up. 

As much as I love a good huayno dance, I had to leave lunch before the real party got started, but not before Tia Shiba offered me half of a cuy to go. I love this country.

Home Away from Home

I’ve realized that after almost 2 years in Peru, I haven’t mentioned my family once. So I figured it’s better now than never.

Peace Corps volunteers in Peru are required to live with host families for the full two years, something my mother was very happy to learn about. Don’t get me wrong, it has been great living with a family, but it definitely has had its ups and downs. Ups: I get served my meals, I’m never alone, and they help me acustumbrar faster to the culture here.  Downs: Pretty much all the same things except the last one.

But when it comes down to it, I’m very grateful for my host family, and a family, they have really become. We joke and laugh with each other, they’ve seen me cry, and have stood up for me in the community. Not many volunteers are as lucky as I am to have such a great host family. 

So let me introduce them to you:

Host Mom Adela: She’s in her 30’s, so I’ve always considered her more of my friend than host mom. She’s a stout woman who always has a smile on her face. At first I thought her to be serious and shy, but that was just because we didn’t know each other. Whenever I go on trips, she always tells me how lucky I am to travel and to be single. Over these years, I’ve gotten to know a little bit about her history. She’s from Bambamarca, the bigger city below and got married and pregnant really early in life, at around 21 years old. Her spouse is from San Juan de Lacamaca, which is where I live, so she upped and moved her life to the campo. She has a hard life, as most women do in the campo, as I see her constantly working through the day while my host dad is off drinking. She washes the clothes (even mine!), cooks and cleans, takes care of the animals, and does all the shopping. Because of that, she can never be gone for too long. So if she has to go to another community for whatever reason, she wakes up before sunrise to cook breakfast and lunch and go on her way in time to get back to make dinner. She’s quite the jokester, and we both have bonded over making fun of my host dad. She only has a primary school education, but she’s a quick learner. I teach her how to make different cakes and dishes from time to time. What’s frustrating to me is that even though she works so much, she has a low self-esteem, something very common among women. So I do all that I can to boost her self-esteem and show her how much she is valued. 

Host Dad Belermino: Ooohh my host dad. Again, he’s around the same age as Adela, so I call him by his first name or by his nickname Belacho. By trade he is a painter, artist, and teacher, but by day he works in the municipality (the only worker) and is the president of the Ronda Campesinas, both of which he started just recently. Before he had odd painting jobs and taught literacy to a group of moms. Like I said above, he likes to drink, which is what most men do here. I’ve never been around alcoholics, but I would say that he is one, as when he drinks, he doesn’t come back until the wee mornings and can barely walk. But with that said, he’s harmless, which is why Adela and I make fun of him. I think he is also ashamed of his drinking because often times after he goes out drinking, I don’t see him for days on end, as he doesn’t want me to see him, which I think is kind of funny. But all and all, he’s a good guy and has got my back. He heard some bad gossip about me from this person around town and he told them off, which I was glad to hear. 

Host Brother Gian Carlos: It took me a good couple weeks to finally figure out what my host brother’s name was as my family calls him Kalin (Ka-leen) and his school calls him Gian (Gsh-ean). He just turned 13 the day after Christmas, but he is still a little kid at heart. I’ve never had a little sibling, as I am the youngest in my family, so it has been interesting dealing with that. He used to always come into my room and ask me what I was doing, so I had to learn boundaries pretty quick. He’s my biggest helper in town. If I need some eggs from the neighbor or need to put up a sign at school, I will just give the job to him, and he’s only too happy to do it for me. I’ve tried to give him as many opportunities to grow as I can while I am here by inviting him to our Camp VALOR and to participate in my youth health promoters club. He’s okay at school, but really wants to become a priest when he grows up, something that I have never heard a kid say before.

The days are counting down and I’ve already been thinking about how I’m going to say goodbye. My host mom used to cry when I gave her rent or if I went on vacation, so I can only imagine. They all don’t want me to leave, and in a perfect world, I wouldn’t, but that is just how things go. I came crying to Peace Corps and I will leave crying. 

Host Grandma: Oh mi abuelita, also known as Doña Leja (Le-ha). I call her abuela and every time I am greeted with a smile and a laughter, so I think she likes it :-) She is the mother of my host father, and lives next door to us. She is a widow and has 8 kids that live in Lima, Chiclayo, and Cajamarca. She's in her 70's but is truckin' it with the best of them. She owns three cows, so is constantly taking care of them, which means milking them twice a day and finding them grass, which is sometimes in the jalca or high up in the mountains. It's a good hour walk up the mountain to where she keeps her cows, which means twice a day, she goes up and down to milk them. I don't know how she does it, as I can't even do that once without stopping at least a couple time to catch my breath. And she does it while crocheting to boot!