Thankgiving-1of 2

On Monday Nov. 20th, I hiked out of Carata to Motil to catch a bus. I had been in site for two weeks and was stirring to get out. I hadn’t bathed for days because there was little water and I was too lazy to take a bucket bath (I prefer a full outright shower even if it is ice cold) but the water barely trickles from the sink with such little pressure.

Juan followed me on his dirt bike, carrying my luggage to the main road. No buses passed for quite some time. I could feel my nose burning in the sun. Where the hell was my sun block? Burried in my luggage. I have to wear sun block every day on my face-at such a high altitude I’ve burned easily. I was carrying a hiking bag and my laptop. Just enough luggage for ten days in Huaraz and Lima.

We waited, and waited. It’s really become normal at this point all the waiting that is. If I’m not waiting for transportation, I’m waiting for a meeting to start, or a phone call, or maybe a friend or for my mail in customs. I imagine any future waiting experiences in my life time, won’t even compare to all the waiting I’ve done this past year in Peru. I think I’ve waited more in one year than I have in my cumulative 26 years on the planet.

In this one circumstance I passed an easy 8 hours on the side of the road. Juan left to beat the threatening rain. More than 10 buses, 5 cars, 3 combis, 6 trucks and a mess of sheep and donkeys had crossed my path. Finally just before it got dark and cold my savior arrived-a mining bus. These buses don’t even pick up passengers-due to the contract they have with a gold mine companies north of where Carata lies. The big red beauty came barreling down the mountain empty, I’m sure they noted the helplessness in our faces. They could make some extra change by picking us up and as long as we promised to keep the curtains closed as we passed the high way control station. I felt like Ann Frank, hiding but thankful to be alive.

Oh, you may wonder why I waited so long for a ride? The day before was election day for local governments. As for the presidential election this election is also mandatory (It’s the only law Peruvians uphold). So with this in mind, buses were at their capacity. Everyone who works in one district had to travel back to their home districts based on their permanent address. This means a lot of shuffling of people from the coast to the sierra and vice versa. Juan and Mena have an Uncle who lives in Lima but votes in Agallpampa (my district) he travels a total of 12 hours to vote. And he did this three time this year for three different elections. Can you imagine? The absurdity.

That next morning I attended a nutrition workshop at my friend Khaliah’s site, Chao ( 50km south of Trujillo). She is a health volunteer from my training group and had been planning this event for months. She works with a group of health promoters in her community. Chao is a semi urban coastal town and completely different than Carata. The people, the food, the language…it’s really a contrast from my village in the mountains.

Khaliah had invited other health volunteers from different departments to act as guest facilitators for the day. I was delighted to help but also stressed to put something creative together and arrive in one piece since surviving the atrocious previous day. 8 health promoters attended and a nutritionist, and Khaliah’s counterpart, Margot and her supervisor, and the three of us volunteers.

One of our friends was planning on attending but the workshop but was trapped in her site to a strike and rioting as a result of the election. The public was obviously unhappy with the newly elected mayor and officials. They had closed the roads preventing any cars from coming or going and cut telephone lines. She had to be evacuated by peace corps.

(I later found out another similar situation occurred where my friends’ Jimmy and Lenah (a married couple) live. But the public rioting was so bad the town hall was burned, school computers were destroyed, and other public buildings ransacked. And I thought the college riots in Boston were impressive.

Just a side note, getting back to the nutrition workshop…. I really enjoyed seeing Devina (who works in the sierra of Cajamarca) and Adiana who works in the desert of Piura). I think the health promoters learned a lot from each of our sessions and appreciated the distances we traveled just to be present.

That night we all got on an overnight bus east to Huaraz, Ancash the most beautiful region of the Peruvian Andes. I didn’t sleep. Mostly because of the strange man sitting next to me. I actually woke myself up, startled, thinking he was stealing my glasses off my face. What a nightmare! Remember “Adventures in Babysitting”?

To be continued....

a real tourist

Shortly after sending the new trainees back to Lima, and recovering from illness (I’m sure I’ve lost at least 10 pounds this year). I meet up with two friends for a well deserved trip south to the department of Ica. This coastal department neighbors Lima and is the home of five PC volunteers. It’s almost always hot year round, due to its desert-like climate, and can be a little overcast from the Lima fog and smog.

None of the three of us had ever been to Ica, and even though it’s only a few hours by bus from Lima we had been reading in our guide books that it’s a great tourist vacation spot. In spite of the fact that Peruvians think I’m a tourist everyday, (at least when I’m out of site) this time I really wanted to be a tourist. The trip wouldn’t be too expensive, as long as I could stay on a budget (yeah right!). We had planned to hit three of the major cities in the department, Pisco, Nazca and Ica.

I hadn’t been away from La Libertad for months and was really looking forward to a relaxing and adventurous trip. On Halloween my good friend Emily and I took an overnight bus to Lima, arrived at 7am and immediately looked for the bus terminal to the city of Ica. We knew it was another 4-5 hours south to the city of Ica and we wanted to at least do some site seeing that first day. In transit we passed corn, cotton, asparagus, banana, and olive grove fields. Our friend Amy, who lives in Ica recommended that we stay in Huacachina which is a beautiful oasis in the middle of sand dunes. The oasis once was natural water, but now it’s pumped in from a far. People told us the water had special healing powers.

We checked into a cheap but posh hostel ($10 a piece) and learned from the staff about the popular sports of sand boarding and dune buggy rental. Other volunteers had done it and we thought it was worth the experience. Besides, I though, “When am I ever going have the opportunity to sand board on desert cliffs?” I’m from NH for Christ’s sake! Emily and I thought about it over a drink at the bar by the pool. We met a girl from Ireland who had just come in from Nazca. She told us about the famous Nazca lines and how it was spectacular. She was terribly sunburned from hiking through Chile with a group of Europeans.

We left our hostel to go to the bank in the city of Ica and see if there was anything touristy we could do while waiting for Ann to arrive from Lima. Due to the fact that it was a holiday (All saints day) the wine vineyards were closed. But to our advantage the city museum was open. A taxi driver in Trujillo had told me the night before that it was a cool museum especially for the mummies.

And the taxista was right. Ancient mummies from pre-Inca civilizations of the Paracas and Nazcan people. What a site! I have a fond appreciation for hidden tombs, ancient burial sites, barbaric surgical procedures, and learning about the beliefs and customs from these Peruvian ancestors. The museum also had a fascinating display of deformed skulls-similar to the Chinese foot binding history, these ancient people believed in tightly wrapping the skulls of their infants. Resulting in cranial deformities and even death. The skulls looked like alien remains, oval in shape, instead of round. How creepy!

Ann arrived that night to the hostel, and we planned out the next three days. We thought best to see a vineyard, (Ica is Peru’s wine country) and than sand board in the early evening to save ourselves from the sweltering sun. We toured two wineries, known as “bodegas”. Tacama is south America’s oldest winery. We met a family of Spaniards that day, and joined their tour. They were impressed with our Spanish, and that we could hold our own at the wine tasting portion. I bought a bottle for my host family. Later we ate toured a less commercial, more authentic home made winery where we learned about the more genuine way to make wine. This place was called Bodega Lazo, and was definitely less touristy but fun all the same. We tried their Pisco-from the national Peruvian drink Pisco Sour- and I choked it down. It’s like 90 proof.

Sanding was left to the afternoon, back at Huacachina. We argued prices and eventually got what we wanted, S/.40 a piece. Ann who is the most practical girl I know (she brings a small backpack for a week long trip) had only brought one pair of shoes…heals. I said, “Your going into the dunes in those? Damn girl!” Evidently she had forgotten about this opportunity when packing so lightly. The dune buggies are large, hand made 4x4 vehicles that looked dangerous to even stand next too. But I jumped in. And we were off, our driver tearing through the little town to place us neatly on top of the impressive sand dunes. It was anything but neat, like an amusement park ride. I was jolted, jostled, and molded into a new human being as we speed through the dunes, flying through the air over hills and peaks. Sand blew into my eyes, and into my dread locks. Once stopped, we appreciated the view, and jumped back into the car, snapped seat belts (logical) and drove off to another cliff.

From this point we tried sand boarding, very similar to snow boarding minus the snow. And the board is very basic, I mean a child could have made it in shop class. A plain rectangle, double tipped, and fabric bindings. I laughed even harder at the thought of Ann in heals in the shitty bindings. But, as the soldier she is, she sand boarded barefoot. Now that’s hardcore. After a few tries, and a few face plants in the sand…I picked up the technique. I was part of the elite few on the internationally known, John Stark Ski Team at one point in my short life. And turns out, sand boarding is way easier than snow boarding or even skiing for that matter. They waxed up our boards and we were off. Even Emily and Ann, self proclaimed “non-athletic” were rocking the sand (no pun intended) and taking hilarious pictures.

The sunset from the dunes was remarkable. And than it was dark. And cold. That night was left for Nazca the much anticipated excursion farther south to see the lines. Now these lines are more than special, they are enigmatic ground markings that have bewildered scientists and locals for centuries. And they can only be seen from one place, an aerial view by aircraft. The lines in the desert sand were made by the nazca people in AD 300-1000. There are dozens of symbols but the most intriguing are of plant and animal life of that time period. We arrived that night in the city of Nazca and were bombared with tourism agencies and taxi’s the moment we stepped off the bus. I wanted very badly to be a Peruvian and not an American in that moment. Complete chaos, people yelling, and a decision needed to be made. I knew we wouldn’t be going through this if we weren’t such blatent looking tourists. A man yelled my name. I looked up and he motioned us to his taxi. He was a hotel owner whose co-worker had met up hours earlier on the bus ride from the city of Ica. We agreed to stay at his hotel, because it was ridiculously cheap, $3.00 a piece.

Let’s just say the hotel is not worth writing about on this blog nor to the publishers of Lonely Plant or the Rough Guide. It’s just a place to rest, I say. We were there for a mear 8 hours. Fortunatly I took the advice from somebody to not eat breakfast as the short flight over the lines can be nauseous provoking. We watched a short video from terminal as the pilot prepped the plane. And once aboard I clutched on to the barf bag. How romantic. Emily took most of the pictures out the side windows as I dry heaved. And once that passed I enjoyed the rest of the flight. And I thought I was conditioning myself of this motion sickness problem by taking such rustic means of transport throughout the country. I guess not. I have yet to throw up on a Peruvian bus. And god knows those little 15 hour rides can be torture.

We ate breakfast and took a long drive out to a series of ceremonial burial cemeteries where the Nasca people built underground tombs and mummified their loved ones in the fetal position. The sun has damaged some of the sites, but most were in remarkably good shape given their age. The coolest part was the hair of the mummies, visible, thick dreadlocks. Evidently the longer and thicker your locks the more prestige one had. Sounds like my kind of peeps.

Next, our taxi driver took us to a ceramic making artisan, and than to a gold mining shop. Both owners still use traditional means in their craft. The ceramic maker molds, paints and glazes his work all by hand and heats the pottery in a adobe like stove. He uses his own facial oils to glaze his work. Likewise the gold miner uses a special filtration process to pull gold properties from other precious stones, they than purify the gold by grinding it with huge boulders. It’s refreshing to see laborers who maintain the age old methods of their artisan work.

We did some shopping in the plaza of Nazca and visited another museum less exciting than other exhibits we had seen, but a very modern and clean place. I liked the aqueducts outside the museum which were still in their original state. Emily realized at that point that she left her camera in Huacachina the night before at a store. We took a quick bus back north to Ica to look for the camera. But upon arriving at the exact location where she remembered setting it down, it wasn’t there. Fortunately for someone, it was a good find. But that left us down on luck, spirits low.

Still to come was another bus ride north to Pisco. This third city was similar to Ica and Nazca, in fact there town centers are so similar I was getting confused about where I was. That’s a sign of real foreigner. Lost, Confused and Helpless. Luck for me, I had two female bodyguards. We checked into our hotel, recommended by Amy, and made reservations next store with a travel agency who would take us to Paracas and the national reserve. Amy who is a PC environment volunteer works in the reserve to preserve the Ballesta Islands. While I’m in the sierra teaching people how to washing their hands, she’s on the coast playing with seals, sea lions and penguins. ¡No es justo!
An early start of 7:30am got us on a tour bus to the reserve. We took a boat out to the islands and saw another mysterious figure in the sand (much like the lines) but of a large candle stick instead.

The fog swept in and as we moved further from the coast my bare legs trembled. Shorts. What a dumb idea. They were the only clean thing to wear. The Ballesta Islands were hugs rocks covered with a diverse ecosystem of birds. So many different species land there, some endangered, that it’s prohibited to land and walk on the formations. I don’t think I’d want to though, after seeing all the guano-(bird poo). The pelicans, terns, penguins, seals and sea lions were impressive. I filmed a short movie from the boat with my camera. We made it back to the dock, ate breakfast and took off to see the rest of the reserve which Amy said was not as impressive. “It’s mostly desert, Matt, but there is a rock formation called the cathedral which is worth seeing.” So Ann stayed back, and Emily and I went to out to the reserve information center and to the Cathedral. I imagined something like Stonehenge, but it was a cave built into a cliff side. It was very windy, and sunny.

We left the reserve and to our surprise, in the tour bus cabin (where we sat) sparks began to fly. Emily freaked out, just about attacked me to sling the door open and we both jumped out to watch in horror as the bus exploded. But nothing happened. We waited on the desert sand, the bus a mere 20 feet away and still nothing happened. The rest of the passengers, a high school tour group, their chaperones, and a married couple (all Peruvian) waited in the vehicle patiently for the problem to be fixed. Meanwhile, Emily and I stomped in the sand, swearing in English about what “could have happened”.

Once again, people thought we were crazy. We were motioned to get back on the bus and sit next the sparking dashboard, reluctantly we obliged. It was the death trap, or a long walk through the desert to the city. We passed straw houses, with thatched roofs and imagined what life would be like for those people. All the sudden my adobe room didn’t seem that rustic. Least I have windows and a door.

The rest of the trip was uneventful; we made it back to Pisco, than to Lima and took an overnight bus to Trujillo. I took out my contacts, ate an “empanada” and fell asleep to a lame dubbed movie.

Projects, Projects, Proyectos

It´s been a long and busy month, this October. Certainly my heavy work load has made the time pass quickly. I´m continuing with my community health projects, and secondary activities, and as always finding a weekend here and there to escape to Trujillo for a break from the sierra.

I´m making house visits in Nuevo California to families in desperate need of health education. Since August we´ve covered many topics, handwashing, self esteem, decision making, oral health, communication, safe water, diarrhea, and reproductive health. I see little progress with the mothers and families, which one may say is depressing, but I know changing habits takes more than a few months of teachings.

The youth group I work with brings me a lot of enjoyment. They are full of energy and ideas, and have gone from a shy group of kids to a loud and boisterous bunch. We too have covered many health topics, those listed above and specific topics for their ages. Nutrition is a recurring subject (if they start to change their diets, they can see results as they grow into adults), we´ve played leadership games, and organized a cooking competition in the school. -The most balanced plate?-First Prize included a dish with meat, dairy, fruits, vegetables and grains! ¡Qué Rico! Those of us from the health post were judges and got to try all the food.

I´m also working with a group of parents-the moms and dads of kindergarten kids in town. This group has been harder to consistently meet with because the parents are busy working in their fields or in their homes. We´ve postponed and rescheduled many meetings. I have to use different techniques teaching parents about family health, many can´t read and have very short attention spans. Not to mention they bring there kids and toddlers to our meetings. You can imagine the environment, it´s far from conducive to learning. I found that I have to offer a lot of incentives to get people to attend, like free soap, tooth brushes, snacks, and free food.

Last week we hung up the finalized map on the health post wall. Juan and I had been working on it, on and off for 8 months! I´m very proud with the final project. It´s really a work of art and very useful for community health assessment and analysis. The house number projects cooriletes with the house numbers on the map, and every community member has been counted. Babies to the elderly.

This month we´ve also been furiously vaccinating everyone between 2 years old-39 years old for German measles and Rubueola. See, these are vacccines that Americans receive at birth, but Peruvians never had access to the vaccines, until now. After a long history of childhood illness and deaths, the gov. received foreign aide in hopes of vaccinating 100% of the population (of stated ages) to erraticate the viruses. The national campain is part of our work as peace corps health volunteers because we can educate, promote and organize people to participate in the campaign. Many of my friends are speaking over the radio or local television stations about the campain, and others are making house visits. I´ve been vaccinating too, but mostly helping with the record keeping.

And speaking of viruses....I just got over a viral infeccion, four days of hell. As timing goes this was the same week that 5 PC trainees from Lima came to shadow me in Carata. They also arrived with a trainer, and a language teacher. So not only was I suppose to train newbees but do it with diarrhea and vomit. Nevertheless we completed amazing projects in just four days, like building a stove, a letrine, and attending and teaching three meetings. They even helped me with my water project by collecting hygiene/sanitation data from the locals. I meet some great friends and was proud to be a part of their field based training. In just one year I´ve gone from trainee to trainer. It takes a village to raise a peace corps volunteer!

¡1 YeAr AnNiVeRsArY!

On September 23rd I completed a full year in Peru. Since arriving last year, I don’t exactly feel different but I’m sure I have changed in spite of this work. I’m extremely thankful for surviving this long, and I’ve realized that its possible to get through the overwhelming 2 year commitment. What’s one more year after all this? The slow process of cultural assimilation is a bumpy road. Will things ever become normalized? In light of my one year anniversary, this entry is dedicated to exposing certain aspects of life in Peru that I find surprising, unimaginable, shocking and absurd.

In no particular order, here we go….(Let is be known that these “facts” may not be universal to the country, nevertheless are worthy of noting. Not to embellish on Peru’s problems but more so to report my personal findings in hopes of recognizing how far we’ve come, and how far undeveloped countries have to go.)

The legal system- It’s said that…

One can obtain a fake professional license for any career. Doctors, lawyers, nurses, pharmacists, accountants, police, etc, and they can find work relatively easily in these fields.

It’s not uncommon for peasants to occupy the land of others and claim (after 5 years of occupancy) the land as their own.

In light of the fact that small villages don’t have police, many locals for a community police committee and have been know to ridicule, torture and kill delinquents and thieves by barbaric means.

Police and lawyers can have connects with criminals and be the motivators behind incidents for their own financial profit.

During election time (voting is mandatory for all) votes have been falsified, proving that the stated voter is deceased, under age or non-existent.

Theft is so common in large cities that every storefront is gated and all transactions are done between the bars.

In the country side live stock and domesticated animals are stolen, poisoned or abused on a daily basis. Or they simply live underneath the kitchen stove as in the case of our guinea pigs.

Peruvians are masters of creating selling fake products. I’ve encountered fake currency, fake medication, fake electronics, CD’s, DVD’s, car seats, drivers licenses, ID’s, and worst of all, fake Winnie the Pooh costumes.

Driving is legal at age 18, although the law is not upheld, and almost all drivers don’t carry any of the correct documents, such as a car registration, license, owners papers, etc.

Education- It’s said that…..

Teaching is the #1 most common profession. Why? Because the salary is decent, the preparation is short (2 years), and the schedule is very very flexible.

There are so many vacation days during the school year that it’s not unusual for kids to only study 3 days out of 5.

The school day is 5 hours, not 7 and ends at 11th grade, not 12th.

The teachers get a day off on their birthday and at least 2 free days at the end of the month for pay day.

Less than half of first graders graduate from high school.

Our school kitchen in my village consists of an open fire pit where mothers and infants prepare un-nutritious food for youngsters.

After a long night of drinking, most teachers don’t “call in” but yet, teach while drunk or with hangovers. And when the teacher is actually sick, there is no substitute, only another missed school day.

Health and Environment- It’s said that….

The wood companies in Trujillo burn wood from their factories and the ash passes through the air coating local neighborhoods in a grey dust.

This month of Oct. the country will start a national campaign, vaccinating against measles and German measles. The target population is 2-39 y/o It’s evitable that someone will invent a fake vaccine (in hopes of making millions and moving to a neighborhood near you.)

I met a family who told me their daughter pooped worms.

People poop worms because they:

A). Drink contaminated water
B). Play in the dirt with animal feces.
C). Transmit the parasite through the “Fecal—Oral route”.
D.) Don’t wash their hands
E.)All of the above

It’s E.

Diarrhea leading to dehydration is the #1 factor causing a high infant mortality rate. When considering the prior statements A-D, the situation worsens.
People think that if they bathe (especially with cold water) they’ll get sick. So they don’t bath and they get sicker.

Belief in God is so strong that disease transmission is thought to come from above (as a punishment).

Most trash disposal is done by burying, burning or dumping (batteries, oil, chemicals all go to one place, the ground).

Lima, the country capital is so polluted with smog, the weather channel reports “partly cloudy” 364 days of the year.

Many rural and some urban areas have water only 2 hours a day. Water is than kept in open containers increasing the reproduction of malaria ridden mosquitoes.

A fun dare for peasants is to try ingesting plant insecticides to see if they live.

Other- It’s said that…

There is no return policy at stores, ever.

The rule isn’t “You break it, you buy it” better said, “You buy it, it breaks”.

More than 50% of locals in my village use their backyards (and those of their neighbors) to urinate and defecate.

Pregnant woman give birth squatting.

I’ve eaten or been served, goat intestine, cow liver, tongue, pig face, and skin, chicken feet, pig feet, sheep skull, rabbit, guinea pig, and raw fish.

A large percentage of Peruvian Catholics are couples who aren’t married, but live together and have children.

Some men have more than one wife.

Some parents don’t know the age or full names of their own children or spouses.

Illiteracy is a normal fact of life, not only for adults but children who aren’t in school.

No public or private bathrooms have toilet seats, or toilet paper, ever. BYOTP.

I read in Lonely Planet that in the Jungle there is an Amazonian parasite that lives in the water, if your pee in this water it can enter your urethra. Awesome.

If you don’t give a certain percentage of your annual earnings to the local church your business or family will be cursed the following year.

The average Peruvian makes less than $3.oo a day.

And my personal favorite...."Water that flows is obviously clean and drinkable." So than I ask, "Since my pee is mostly water and it flows, would you drink it?" And that really gets them thinking....

A letter to another volunteer, quotes

Below is a letter that I mailed to a friend, Katie who lives in the department of Lambayeque in a rural town.

Tuesday Aug 29th, 2006

Katie, What up Cuz? We haven´t talked for a few weeks and you´ve been on my mind. Here in Carata I sit in my cold little room, the local dogs bark in the background. Tomorrow is a holiday, Sta. Rosa de Lima, so the town is even more dead than usual (but I like it that way). I feel like I´ve been in site forever. It´s been over two weeks, going on three before I bajar to Trujillo Friday morning.

I can´t really complain though, it´s just the usual commodities of life that I chase. I haven´t eaten real food in a while, nor taken a hot shower or spoken fluent English, but these are all things that I´m growing accustomed to living with out (surely, you are too).

What a long strange trip this Peace Corps adventure has been. Remember the P.C. advertisement with the man hanging from the 100+ directional sign pointing to different countries in the world? I thought, how exotic! But really, how gullible was I? Well girl, a year later, what do you think?

Yesterday I went to visit the local Alcalde in regards to agua potable. Juan and I wrote an oficio explaining the severity of the h20 problem and we had almost all the important people in town sign it (those with stamps of course). So, we hiked down to Motil a neighboring town, and jumped on a micro to Agallpampa.

The Alcalde was actually in his office! Que suerte! We explained the oficio, the project and a little about SPA without giving away too many important details (such as SPA= Free $US Dollars!). Unfortunately Mr. Alcade couldn´t give us a straight answer, if he´d support us or not. He was more interested in learning about US culture and the meaning of some damn English word he heard/saw on TV. Visgoshs. What the hell? I hate it when they that, how do you translate a made up word? What do you say, sorry Mr. Mayor, you´re an idiot, that´s not even English! The best I could come up with was Viscous, without hurting his ego, I explained the definition. Whatever. Later on, Juan was reading one of my Newsweeks and came across the mystery word, ¨because¨. What beautiful pronunciation.

I´m resigning from my current position as a English teacher. Ya No Ya. Lets just say, it´s not pretty. I feel used and abused and unappreciated. And P.S., I´m a health volunteer not an English teacher!

On a lighter note, this host family Emilia found is really growing on me. So much so, that I (gasp) really want to bring them back Christmas gifts from the US in January. The 9 y/o girl that lives with us, Merli is my little buddy. You could call her my host sister. We´ve begun reading fairy tales every night before bed. It´s good reading practice for her and me! Besides I´m learning all kinds of new Spanish vocab like evil step mother, wicked witch, dwarfs, and all the world of make believe. I´m going to keep up the reading with her, as long as she´s got the energy to do it!

What´s new in Laquipampa? Isaac and I should come up to camp. I´ve got this new tent that I don´t even use. In Oct. and Nov. I´ve got some free weekends. Are you game for thanksgiving in Ancash? I can´t wait. And just a few weeks after that I´ll be eating bagels and cream cheese with chai tea in the the good ol´ US of A.

Here´s a trip down memory lane...

Remember- Apple pie? Sushi? 7/11 Burritos? Berry Berry Kix? Tropicana Orange Juice? Movie Lovers Microwave Popcorn? Fudge? The salad bar? Apple Cider? Chex Mix? Pita bread? Tabule? Seven layer dip? Blueberry muffins? A-1 sauce? Enchiladas? Cus Cus? Ben & Jerry´s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream? Egg Nog? Tacos? Veggie Burgers, Ants on a log? Waffles? Ranch Dressing?

I´m sure to make myself sick after eating all that, but it´s wonderful to dream! Love, Mateo


Here are two quotes related to how i´ve been feeling lately...

¨To succede in this culture it´s necessary to always have a plan B. Plan A is destined to fail for uncontrolable reasons such as relying on transport, weather, technology, and considering emergencies, your doomed. But the single most important reason for failure is depending on human beings. Things are reliable, predictable and safe in the U.S. In Perú, every element of life is chaotic and wreckless. For example, while writing this , I was conviently interupted to help retrieve a key locked in our health post. Plan A, pick or remove the lock. Plan B, break the window. We choose the later. ALWAYS HAVE A PLAN B.¨

¨I often find myself feeling angry, an anger that had been hidden deeply inside me for years. It wasn´t until this experience that it has emerged. I´m certain that these strong feelings are connected to my role as a volunteer. There is so much that I can´t control and it seems to spin into a helpless whilwind.

There is the continual lack of basic necesities like water, electricity, heat and comfort. The broken promises from community members, teachers, school principals, and work counterparts. The ubiquitous cultural habits related to punctuality, organization, prioritization, travel and contamination. And even more specifically, the ignorance, miseducation, disrespect and ungratefulness.

It´s these reasons that provoke such powerful feelings. I was accustomed to just floating through I cushy life with few problems. Here in Perú every action I take, hundreds daily, are done for different reasons. I´ve had to re-learn how to live as if I were Peruvian, just to survive. I´ve adapted my actions to conform to peruvian society. And personally, thats why this is the hardest job I´ll ever love.¨

Electricity, stone coffins, Gocta, and small doorways

It’s been a long time……since writing. Here are my legit excuses! We didn’t have electricity for two weeks in July. Every chargeable item I own went dead. Including my laptop. The reason for the power outage is just as absurd as the duration of nightmare. A local man from Yamobamba didn’t like the fact that an electricity pole lay on his property so he took matters into his own hands and climbed the pole to cut electricity. This gesture not only cut his own power but that of 5 local villages. After hiring an attorney and asking for large amounts of money he said he would turn the lights back on. This game between the local and the municipality went on for weeks until there was finally a settlement. The local got his money and the villages got electricity. Nonetheless, people were pissed. I travel three hours to Otuzco one Sunday just to charge my cell phone.

The best part about the electricity game was that towards the end of the two weeks I went to Trujillo on a weekend to check snail mail, go to the bank, etc but most importantly to charge all my electirical items. I brought my razor, phone, ipod, and camera. This was a Friday. That night I heard on the news that the city would be “doing maintance” and there would be power outages from 7am-7pm. Was this a joke? I had just traveled four hours from the mountains to the coast to charge everything I own and there wouldn’t be power here either?! HELL I TELL YOU.

I called my uncle and sister that afternoon and they were shocked to hear that a city as large as Trujillo (pop. 861,044 ) could turn the lights off all day. Remarkably, the city ran a smooth as usual, just like any other day. Remember back a couple of summers ago in NYC when there was a power outage that wipped out most of the city? Americans were hoarding supplies like it was amegeddon. An in Peru? Just another day of uncertainty.

So that’s my first excuse for not writing in weeks. Next has to do with a long visit from a great friend Knox, aka Tio. Knox arrived the third week of July just in time to celebrate Peruvian Independence Holidays. He stayed in Lima with friends and made his way north to Trujillo to meet me. Surprisingly we connected without any delays or problems. I was elated to see him and excited about our next plans. Along with him he brought many toys from the states, like a waffle ball set ( an almost impossible find here), a thermometer, reading material, and a new pair of shoes. I was grateful. The most original surprise was a video post card from NH of my parents and his family. We watched it with my host family and they were awe struck at the houses, the motorcycle, the lake and especially the golden retriever who swam (UNDERWATER) to fetch balls. For some reason the dogs here don’t swim or play fetch! Weird, eh?

Above all, Knox had an excellent visit. We visited the capital city of Chachapoyas in Amazonas. Which is another department (state) half Andes half Jungle. I had yet to see any of the jungle in this country and was pretty impressed. We lodged locally in the city and took day trips touring local archeological sites and main attractions. We saw stone coffins (sarcophaguses) built high into the cliffs honoring the culture of this pre-incan civilization, the Chachapoyans. We visited the remains of an existing village called Kuelap and toured the intricacies of the stone structures. My favorite day trip was to an infamous waterfall called “Gocta” which was recently discovered and is claimed to be the third tallest waterfall in the world. We were so impressed, even our underwear soaked through in hopes of getting as close as possible. See pictures from Links Section.

As we made our way back from Chachapoyas through Chiclayo and south to Trujillo our next mission was to acquire a rugged rental car for the next week in my town, Carata. Knox jokingly compared, renting a car in Peru is like trying to rent a bulldozer. You can do it, but it’s not easy. Let just say tourism, has a long way to go in this country. The idea that you can simply rent any car model and be free to explore (as in most parts of the world!) doesn’t happen here. Travel is based on an amazingly thorough busing system, which is cheap and usually reliable (when the buses aren’t being high-jacked).

We eventually got a truck and got on the road to head east to the mountains. Knox was truly astonished to learn that the quality of roads was like nothing he had ever experienced. And this coming from a man who has years of experience driving on some of the worst terrain in Central America. I’ve gotten so used to going 2 miles an hour on back roads that resemble river beds, I’ve come to think it’s absolutely normal! We arrived in Carata and although he had seen pictures on the web, there’s nothing like the view at 9,000 ft. Home Sweet Home.

To prevent altitude sickness, we spent a good two hours eating lunch and trying to buy a birthday cake in Otuzco (2,000m). I’ve learned now, after the sad but true story of my sister and boyfriend who were genuinely miserable (but were good sports for toughing out a crappy time).

Knox helped me with work (house visits, English classes, etc.) and also spent time meeting the important people of my day to day life, the fam. We toured the town, and I introduced him to locals, kids and the drunks. I explained to him the challenges I face, and the hopes of achieving some of my project goals. We took two day trips, and really abused the rental truck. Fortunately it didn’t rain at all while he was here. In return for receiving the fabulous video post card, we made a short film from Carata for those of you back home. I’d like to find a way to link the video from this blog, any suggestions?

Ps- Knox made it home alright even with terrorism threats but he did arrive a little bruised and battered from hitting his head on door ways and fences designed for a country of midgets.

Carata´s Anniversary, H20, and B-Day

June has come and gone so here are some updates from Carata Perú.

June 5th-8th brought four complete days of a fabulous party in my own village. The reason was to celebrate the town’s anniversary, and this meant lots of live music, dancing and the inevitable consumption of alcohol. For months I had been hearing about how great this party would be and that it was one of the best traditions, I obviously couldn’t miss it! And all the talk rang true. I was most impressed with the organization from locals and the amount of money spent. It dawned on me that these people really can get things done and work together if they have a common goal. We do have hope for future projects…maybe.

The first day of the party was complete with the receiving of the first marching band by the ¨mayordomo¨(who was the master of ceremonies and bankroller for most of the events). It continued with a procession of 8 donated cows that were killed to feed people for the week. The killing of the cows was incredible enough to witness. They were brought out to a field where men drove kitchen knives through their skulls until they dropped to the ground. I will never forget it. But wait it gets better…. The party continued with dancing and a youth talent show at night. The next day two more marching bands (of 25+ members) arrived. Rockets were shot off all day as early as 6am. Ann came from her site to visit and we danced, drank and hung out with my host family and the relatives (totaling 30 or more!). We watched a cock fight at an official corral, some local’s house. Cock fighting is a popular sport here, and very competitive and serious. Men raise specific breeds of roosters for fighting and bet on their performance. Ann was horrified, but I thought it was pretty sweet.

The electricity just went out, hours later I’m back retyping what I had written. The lights have been going out a lot lately. It’s so annoying. But I can deal with no electricity, it’s when the water goes. That’s really fun.

In the end the party was enjoyable, especially the ¨Castillos¨ which are large wicker towers they had built around town. At night they were lit and we enjoyed a pyrotechnics show of fireworks. Imagine a life-size erector set 6-8 stores high. Very impressive.

I’ve been working with other volunteers as a traveling theatre group presenting a simple play about a girl and her unhygienic habits. It’s a fun way for us to educate youth, especially the elementary kids and have a good time doing it. I’m eagerly awaiting the date when we reunite in my site to give the play to my school. I play a Peruvian doctor (very convincing, right?)

Another ongoing assignment is doing monthly water reservoir inspections in my town and surrounding villages. I’ve found that two of the four reservoirs have consistently failed code and could really use some help, one of the two being my own village! The water committee never meets, rarely cleans the reservoir, doesn’t treat the tank with chloride, and frequently encounter problems with broken tubes throughout the town. It’s a disaster really. I’m personally making an effort to work more in the area of water management with the ultimate hope of reforming the water committee, training them in how to work together, and how to maintain a healthy reservoir for the village. Our statistics show that the two towns with poorly functioning reservoirs are directly correlated with higher cases of illness and children with cases of diarrhea and parasites. Worse though, without clean water, we’re challenging communicable diseases, and that’s exactly what I’m trying to prevent.

June 17th was my 26th birthday, my first birthday spent out of country. I got some great phone calls cards and emails, thank you to everyone who contacted me! It was truly a wonderful birthday weekend. I traveled north to the coastal city of Chiclayo in the department of Lambayeque. My friends completely spoiled me by taking me to a country club to watch the US vs. Italy game, and eat and drink delicious food. A cake was brought out and moments later my friend Jean shoved my face into it (a Peruvian tradition). That night we went out to a club, and I received free drinks the whole night, complements of the club owner. It helps to know people I guess! Thanks Brent!

More recently, Juan and I have almost finished painting house numbers for the town. We’ve started nailing them to peoples houses and charging S/.1.50 equal to .45 cents. We’ve spent more than S/. 200.00 soles (Peruvian currency) on materials for the project. The idea is that we get reimbursed but sadly many people cannot even afford a .45 cent house number. It’s frustrating because we’ll surely be out money, but a common reality. I miss you all and think of you often from my adobe house in the mountains…Love Matt

PS- Congrats to PERU 7 who arrived at the end of this month, a fresh new group of Business and Youth Development volunteers!

Doc´s visit- 6/13

6/13--I’m writing to you on a cold Tuesday night from home. I can honestly call Carata my home. I just came upstairs from having dinner in our small adobe kitchen. One of the school teachers and I conversed about the unlikelihood that the neighboring volunteer Ana would marry him so he could gain residency to the U.S. It’s actually a pretty common conversation, that we as volunteers have come accustomed to dealing with.

My room is warming up now, I’ve got the space heater on, but still wear a winter hat, and it’s probably a chilling 45 degrees outside. (Did I ever think I’d be cold in June?) The environmental diversity of this country amazes me. Some of my friends who live far north practically on the boarder of Ecuador, and south of Lima live in desert like conditions. It’s so hot they can’t even sleep. Some are talking anti-malerial meds, which in itself hinders sleep. Although I’m freezing at night it’s beautiful during the day, I really can’t complain. I just hope I get a chance to use my new tent one of these nights. (Thank God for therma-rests, smart wool socks and mummy sleeping bags). I keep on forgetting to buy a thermometer.

My English has gotten so rusty, I just spelled socks with an x. Sounds like box. The spell check is handy for gringos like me who have forgotten their native language…..

Today was Tuesday, a long day. I woke up a couple of times last night thinking I was going to over sleep and miss my 7:20am English class. Nope, still haven’t missed it but getting up at 6am or 6:30 is a struggle when it’s still cold and dark outside. The classes continue to discourage me, because I know that teaching about health will take these students much farther in life. This is how I see it, sure they’ll learn some basic English, but if they don’t understand the general concept of washing their hands they’re going to die from illness! Remember Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs? I do. Freshman year of college, Nursing Health Assessment. The theorist Maslow defined that humans first need the basics before anything else. Food, Water, Shelter. Health came way before “Second Language Classes”. Call me pessimistic, but its true!

I’m pealing paint from my fingers from working on a project today. We’re painting house numbers on blocks of wood for the village. It’s a big project, but simple and necessary. The houses are unnumbered and there are no street names. There are no streets really, just large paths separating neighborhoods. We are going to make over two hundred and continue from there to see if we need more. Eventually we’d like to make street names. I want to name a street after myself. Egocentric right? It still would be funny.

My doctor came to visit me Sunday. We have two Peace Corps doctors, a man and a woman both Peruvian. They are excellent and work extremely hard to monitor the health of the 116 of us. Jorge has won us over with his humor, wit and easy going personality. He was called up to La Libertad the department where I live to visit another volunteer who was sick, and as she became better he decided to take the opportunity to travel to a couple of our sites just to visit. He tries to visit every volunteer once in their site during their two years. Jorge arrived Sunday night, and after realizing the extent of the trip from my capital city, Trujillo, I hope he didn’t have doubts to immediately turn back.

Monday morning I gave him a quick tour of town, it’s so tiny you could miss it if you blinked! I explained some history and facts about my site, and we talked about planned projects I’m working on. He hoped to walk to Ann’s site but than it started raining, and we watched a world cup game instead. Jorge was a great help with the house numbers, taking pictures just like a tourist. He even visited me teaching English. (Jorge speaks English remarkably well!) the rain continued, amd trapped in Carata he made some phone calls and arranged to stay another day. He decided to try and catch a bus back to Trujillo this morning.

I honestly enjoyed the company, and was honored to have our Doc. spend as much time as he did with me. He tells me that when he visits volunteers he usually doesn’t stay overnight, especially two nights! We bonded and I got to know him a little better, since meeting him last year. Even more amazing, is that unlike other staff members Jorge travels like us (volunteers) when he can. He stays in cheap hostels, takes uncomfortable overnight buses, uses public transportation instead of driving and get this…hikes high altitudes! Most of our supervisors fly around the country to meet with us, or local organizations for meetings, or for site development. And when they land at the airport they are picked up in Peace Corps SUV’s. But not Jorge. For this reason and many others he will definitely be a memorable staff member when this Peace Corps adventure of mine comes to an end.

Elementary students, my kids are older (13-17 years old).

Pesadillas de la Escuela (School Nightmares)

5/18/06

I’m teaching English to 9th, 10th and 11th graders twice a week at the high school. This Tuesday was especially memorable….The class begins at 7:20am, by 7:30 their teacher, Orlando had arrived. The 24 9th graders arose from their desks greeting him as he came in to the room. Having missed last weeks class I asked him what was planned today and he said they were to take an “easy” exam. I then asked, “How long do they have to complete it?” Orlando responded, “Until they finish.” What? I asked myself. We could be here all day! Before he passed out the exam, I took a look at it. This is when I confirmed that Orlando really doesn’t know anything pertaining to the English language. The exam was full of errors! For example, “Whot’s your name”, “Hove you any sisters”, “He, Charles” (Hi, Charles), “Ello, Jhampiere” (Hello, Jean Piere), and the best was, “I hove not any whit wine”.

I’m not sure why Orlando was elected as the English teacher this year. I’ve been teaching with him since the beginning of April and he has not once tried to speak a sentence of English with me. I’m sure that he didn’t request to teach English, it’s more likely he was appointed by the school principal. Knowing this frustrates me, because some of the other teachers actually try to speak English to me and have a better understanding of grammar.

So, part of me wanted to laugh and the other part of me felt for the students and how much more confused they soon would be after reading the exam. Nevertheless, Orlando handed out the exam, and I watched in terror. What was I suppose to do?! He had made 24 photocopies of the exam which in it self is not a simple task (it included traveling 3 hours to Otuzco and 3 hours back). And I didn’t want to undermine his intelligence in front of the students, so I decided to meet with him after school to go over the results and fix the errors.

The test included three sections, translation of common Spanish questions into English, a section of matching and translation of English vocab into Spanish. It should have realistically taken 20-25 minutes to complete. I finished it in 5 minutes. As the students quieted down and began working, we approached 8am. Elementary school begins 40 minutes after high school, at 8am respectively. I usually have quite an audience of elementary students that gather at our classroom windows, and doorway. Most of them know me, and get excited to see me in their school. As it is still some what of an anomaly to witness me teaching another language, that many have never heard.

I’m used to the crowd gathering, usually it’s not a problem, I leave the room and tell them to go to class. But, since my students were taking a test I was especially annoyed with the noise coming from outside. I stepped out of the classroom a couple of times to scold the kids who were yelling my name, “Mateo!” through the windows and door. Since Orlando didn’t give them a specific end time, the clock clicked away and I became more and more frustrated. Orlando got up and left the room. One student turned to another, obviously cheating and I called him out. He looked embarrassed but don’t worry… it gets worse. Some students turned in their tests. Those finished began talking about the answers. We were coming upon 40 minutes since the exam was handed out. More elementary students gathered by the windows, I shooed them away. A girl asked her neighbor for help, and I walked up to her, asking “Would you like help?” “I’m sure I know a lot more English than your neighbor!” Although, it was a sarcastic joke to keep her from cheating I felt bad for humiliating her in front of everyone. Orlando came back, after a 5 minute sabbatical. I was about ready to collect the tests from each of the remaining students but I watched Orlando and he seemed to be fine with the current state of disorder. When 45 minutes had passed I asked him if we should just take the tests from them and he said, “No, let them continue.” I almost walked home.

I was just about ready to flip out, when a girl sitting next to the window, who was still taking her test, (mind you) began asking a younger elementary student standing outside to help her; she took out her notebook and began reciting to the older student! Do they have no shame? I motioned to Orlando and he went over to the students’ desk. Finally, he does his job, I’m thinking to myself. I collected the remaining tests and even though some were not done, there was no way they would ever finish, given the noise in the room.

I began lecture, with only 30 minutes left of class. Orlando wanted me to teach them how to write birthday invitations and thank you notes, but I refused to teach that, knowing that they couldn’t even write the date in English. Baby steps….Before I started, I asked if there were any questions about the exam. They sat in silence. “So you knew every answer, and you all got a 100?” Still silence. We stared at each other, and I went ahead answering some of the harder questions on the exam. I taught them the months of the year, how to write the date, and gave them homework. And we finished with a song, “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star”. Yes, I sang it for them, even though I was in a horrible mood.

Later that day, after school, Orlando and I met up. I explained to him that there were many errors in the test and next time he should have me proof read a document before he makes photocopies. He said the person that typed the exam made the errors, not him. BULLSH*T! As if I was going to believe that. I wasn’t surprised that more than 75% of our students failed the test. I Guess we’ll be reviewing all that material again. Next time, I’m writing the test.

This is my life as an English teacher in Perú. Uneducated teachers, cheating students, non-conducive learning environments, non-existent parents, unmotivated students and teachers, the list goes on and on. A study by US News and World Report ranked education systems in developing countries. They found based on a countries GNP (Gross National Product) and other factors, Haiti had the worst education system, Perú was #2.

I recently bought a toilet seat for our latrine; I installed it and hung up signs inside the latrine wall, teaching the men how to lift up the seat when they pee. (Toilet seats are a rare find here, most people sit right on the ceramic or hover). It decided it was time for us to live in luxury. haha. Anyway, I was talking with one of the female teachers who lives with us about peeing on the seat. She told me that she heard you can get pregnant from a toilet seat. I laughed and than realized she was dead serious. I asked, “You think you can get pregnant from urine?!” And she said, “No, from semen on the seat.” I explained  that would be very unlikely, but she wasn’t convinced, as she was sure it had happened before. This mentality I may expect from a student, but from a teacher? Especially someone who is a mother of three children! ¡Viva Perú!

Goodbye April

Goodbye April

I just came inside from washing my bike after a long ride home yesterday. I was too exhausted to even think about whipping off all the mud when I arrived home in the afternoon. I got caught in yet another downpour, and even though they tell me the season is changing, I’ll believe it when I see it… I changed out of my wet clothes, emptied out my back pack, and left it all to dry on my balcony. I had come from Chota to visit Ann and help her to explore a neighboring town called Cesar Vallejo. One of the locales, a man named Constante Reyes, had received word that Ann and I were American volunteers living in the region. He contacted Ann by walking two hours to Chota just to meet her and see if he could program with her. I was planning on visiting her, as we seem to have been talking turns,
(she visits me in Carata, and in return I visit her in Chota) this is a good way for us to keep our sanity.

She asked me to say the night and go with her on Thursday morning to this small village. In the past I have done day trips to see her, staying overnight at Ann’s host families’ house allowed me to see her reality. Even though we are both volunteers who live in the mountains of the same region and we’re only 2 hours from each other, we live very differently. She had warned me that her family was very campesino (read= countryfolk), but it wasn’t them that jolted me, it was the condition of the house in which she lives. She has a small adobe room in the basement of the house, with dirt floors, and plastic tablecloths covering her ceiling to trap the dirt that falls when there is movement upstairs. She’s been fighting a nasty case of bed bugs since she arrived in January with no such remedy to cure. In fact, when Peace Corps came to visit our houses, she was told to find help to pour a concrete floor and repair the ceiling or find another host family. I guess after living in the D.R. as a volunteer for three years, she really has seen it all and can live much more simply than I, or maybe I am just a gay man?!

The beginning of the month went off with a bang, I continued to do the census in Nuevo California, attended a two day workshop in Otuzco on sexual health and birth control methods, went to our monthly regional health post meeting, had a site visit from PC and my program director, missed a town meeting, and baby sat some kids during the presidential election on the 9th. Candidate, Ollanta gained the most votes, than Alan, and Lourdes. The second round will be held in 1 month between Ollanta and Alan.

The next week was Semana Santa, and we were given four days off to enjoy time away from our sites. I had plans to go to a beach in Piura (6 hours north) but decided to stay local in Trujillo to be accessible to Jenni, knowing that she would be returning from Cusco to meet me. I spent a couple of days at my friend Isaac’s site, Pt. Chicama on the beach camping with other volunteers and watching a national surfing competition.

Jenni drove up to Trujillo from Lima on Easter Sunday. How wonderful it was to see a familiar face from home. Bill and she had already been in Peru for four days, which meant they had plenty of stories to tell. We visited the oldest adobe city in the world, called Chan Chan an ancient Inca historical site, and stayed two nights in Huanchaco the closest public beach to Trujillo. We had a great time recalling the past couple of months, updating each other with details, and I was finally able to meet Bill, whom she is currently dating.

We left the coast to climb 9,000 feet into the Andes where I reside in my small village. I couldn’t have them visit Peru without passing through my personal residence. So we arrived, and that’s when I began to feel the indescribable range of emotions of having my own sister experience for herself, my current life. Not 5 to 6 hours later, both Bill and she came down with the typical symptoms of sorroche, altitude sickness. The next morning it still hadn’t passed and Bill was feeling the effects even worse. They stayed recumbent for a few hours as I washed clothes, later in the afternoon they were feeling better to walk around and see some of Carata. We walked through the center of town, the church, the school and played basketball with some of the local kids. Yes, basketball, they were utterly confused, trying to kick the ball.

The next morning I was awoken early by Jenni encouraging me that the only way they could get better was to get to a lower elevation. Rapido. They were both still sick with nausea, muscle aches, lightheaded, a loss of appetite, weakness and diarrhea. I got them some local medication from the health post for their symptoms, but knew getting back to the coast was the best remedy. Hours later when we finally arrived in Trujillo I helped them check into a hotel so they could recuperate. Although the two of them got sick visiting me, I was amazed to see them make the best of the trip by connecting with my host family, giving me advice about potential projects, entertaining local schoolchildren and sharing American culture with Peruvians. By the time my next foreign visitor arrives, I’ll know better as to have them acclimate at lower elevations before climbing such a height.

I came back from Trujillo to learn that cell phone service has reached Carata. The signal is weak…I have two bars, lol. But this means I can make and receive calls. My phone is now more than just a flashlight and alarm clock! It’s quite unbelievable to not have plumbing, nor heat, or any major appliances but yet there is now cell phone service. I’m just going to wait and see how many of the locals, who can barely read, run out and buy a cell phone. (It will happen I’m assured) I also started teaching English this month, twice a week I teach two hour classes to 9th, 10th and 11th grade. It has its benefits and disadvantages; we’ll leave that for another entry.

And so now that the month is over, and both Mom and Dad have aged one more year, I say goodbye to April. And happy retirement Dad, I hope you’ll have time to do all those things you’ve wanted to accomplish. Next up is May, when Rosa and I go to Lima to learn about the SPA grant and how we can fund a few of our many projects planned during my service. Until than, I leave you with a few quotes from Peru 3 volunteers who are just one month short of completing their two year commitment. Congratulations my friends…you’ve taught us it is possible to survive this long, strange journey.

“I’ve learned that PC is about learning to live…really live. It’s learning how to laugh and cry at the same time when you don’t know what emotion your feeling. It’s being able to humble yourself enough to say, “I don’t know” and accept the help that your friends offer. It’s not being afraid to see a different way of life and allowing that to change you.” – Lindsay Parramore

“I’ve learned not to smother a perfectly good silence with chatter. I’ve learned that life shouldn’t surprise me, yet always does. And the universe, demanding as it sometimes is, says, “Here, this is your clay, offered up to you on a platter. Create something that will last.” ¡Carajo! – Angela Jones

Life has become about the “journey not the arrival, the voyage not the departure.”- Lina Biber-Ferro

Pics from April

The long walk home, A local resturant in Huanchaco,

Jenni and Bill, Thanks for visiting me!

Pics from April

Camping on the beach, Local dancers in Trujillo, The surf competition

SEIS MESES!!!

24-03-06

6 MONTHS! March 23rd made six months in country. 21 months left…. What have I learned since stepping off that plane in September? Too much to explain in a blog. I have become much more humble if anything. It’s the poverty I see, the mistreatment of women and children, the pollution, the alcoholism, the uneducated, and the illiterate. How can one country be so rich, so powerful and another be struggling to survive? These past months have made me examine my one personal life in the states. I’ve thought about how much water I’ve wasted, how much money I’ve spent on superfluous items, and how significant the inequalities between my home and theirs. And yet Peruvians continue pushing through life, struggling to make ends meet, staying optimistic.

I’m beginning to learn more about the national government here. As the presidential election closes in on us (April 9th) I hear nothing but talk of the candidates, their affiliate parties, dirty laundry and the history of political corruption. It’s hard to know who’s correct or if “the better party” even exists. The recent elections of Evo Morales in Bolivia and Michelle Bachelet in Chile has sparked interest in locals, especially because Morales is the first indigenous president since the mid 1800´s (last being Mexico’s Benito Juarez) and Bachelet being female. Of the three top Peruvian candidates (there are 23 in total!) one is a very strong female candidate named “Lourdes Flores”. She is currently well favored, but because she is from money people think she will only make change for the rich. I ask, aren’t all three top candidates from money? And the response I get is that of a light bulb going off in their heads…I just hope that Lourdes doesn’t get the boot just because of her gender, due to machismo. Another candidate (who is the people’s choice!) is likely to remove us from Perú if he is elected. I can’t imagine. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, I would hate to have to finish my service in another country after living here for 6 months!

The first week of March was the last week of summer break for the local kids. I decided to run a kid’s camp to celebrate the summer and get them thinking about learning again. The camp ran four days, M-Th from 9am-12am. Each day was subject to a different topic within the framework of “OUR HEALTH”. We learned about hygiene and hand washing, nutrition, dental health, and the environment. I included as many games, art, music and ice breakers as possible. The kids ranged from 7-13 years old. I had between 7-10 kids each day. In looking back, I think it was a very rewarding week for me. I got advice and ideas from Ana, but organized and supervised the kids solo. Next time I’ll ask for an assistant from an older kid or one of the volunteer health promoters. I’m thinking about starting a weekly youth group to tackle more complex issues, like reproductive health, self esteem, gender roles, domestic violence, etc. See pictures!

I went to Lima on the 9th and stayed for a week. It was wonderful to leave my site, leave the department of La Libertad and take a break in the most developed part of the country. I got together with the small group of gay/lesbian volunteers. This was fulfilling as we shared personal experiences, offered advice to each other and caught up on some glbt related flicks such as “Brokeback Mountain” and “Trans-America”. If anything these few days gave me the opportunity to “vent” to others who understand exactly where I’m coming from.

The rest of the week was also memorable. Juan and I attended a PC training about counterparts. (This is what PC calls host country nationals who work directly with the American volunteer) We presented a power point presentation about our town, and what we’ve been doing since I arrived in Dec. I also had the opportunity to hear from other volunteers about their sites, and work.

Next week I’m beginning a series of home health visits in the town south of us. See PIC of sunset. With help, I will be interviewing every family (totaling 60?) about their specific health practices, the paperwork is overwhelmingly complete. It includes family make up, primary means of income, family communication, a house assessment, and current health concerns. From this information we will choose 10 families to work with for the next year. We’ll put every effort into promoting health habits, preventing disease and educating through pictures, skits, and group activities.

Jenni and Bill arrive during semana santa (second week of april), and will visit Machu Picchu (hella´ jealous!), then head north to see me and spend a couple of days in my town. I’m extremely excited to have visitors especially my sister. I’m very curious to hear what they think about Perú and witness their reactions!

Peace Corps reconnect in Lima, March

Sunset in Nuevo Calfornia
our neigboring town.


Larco Mar, Lima with Juan




A PC training in Lima, explaining my site

Club de Niños pics

Kids with cards, for National Women´s Day. We celebrated the important women in our lives.





The bottles are gardens that we started, with carrot, onion, beat and brocolli seeds.







Last day of Camp, outside the front door, causing trouble



Taking a break with a healthy snack, Apples!

Pics from Feb/March

Carnival in Carata, the tree was erected, than adorned with tupperware, and cut down so that everyone could get something free. Similar to a Piñata, i guess!
Drunk man covered in paint, i was involved in a massive water balloon fight, good times! My Club de Niños and the famous hygiene song...PIN PON

Comments!

Thank you all for your comments, your giving me strength from the States! It is wonderful to get a response and the great advice... I´ve changed the settings so that you are all able to leave comments without having to sign up as a ¨blogger¨member. Thanks again for sharing your thoughts...Love, Matt

rice and potatoes

The rice and potatoes everyday are getting a little old. I’ve been grocery shopping in Trujillo or Otuzco when I leave site. This gives me the opportunity to augment my meals and change my diet a little. The daily multivitamin is essential, because I know I’m not getting nearly enough nutrients from all the carbs I’m eating. (Dinner can consist of pasta and rice soup, rice and potatoes, and some bread on the side.) I’m not eating a lot of fruit now, like I was in Lima or in the states, which means very little fiber. I found a fiber cereal called “Angel Fibra”, with raisins. It’s the equivalent of “Total”. But how do you eat cereal without milk? We don’t have milk because we don’t have a fridge. So, because I know I should be getting more calcium I’ve been buying powdered milk and adding water to each portion I consume. As for protein, we have chicken, but no red meat. I found a grocery store in Trujillo (and most likely the only one) that sells peanut butter. Yes, peanut butter. Peruvians have no concept of it, but this one grocery store imports many international foods. Thanks to God. On top of peanut butter I’ve been making a natural protein shake with a plant called Kiwicha grown locally. Maca is another grain that is high in protein. The ground/powder form can be purchased and added to water, boiled water that is….I boil all water that I drink.

And although these trips to the grocery store or to the market to buy fruits and vegetables are necessary it’s not easy. I can hike down (1 hour) to a town called Motil every Monday to got to the farmers market, or when I’m in Trujillo (4-5 hours away) or Otuzco (3 hours) I can go to a market or grocery store. Planning these trips has become easier, as I learn trails and bus schedules. Soon we’ll be able to eat some of our vegetables from our own garden. I tried to make pancakes and pizza last month, but I wasn’t exactly successful. You’d think such an easy thing could be done, but out in the country there are all kinds of obstacles!

My pancakes came out flat and burnt, for the lack of baking soda (which later, I was told is essential). The pizza was alright but very hard to cook evenly over a fire and with a stir-fry pan. Cooking over a fire is ridiculously hard, you cannot tell the temp, and it frequently goes out. I now understand why women cook the same things, one because of lack of knowledge and two because it takes a lot of ingenuity and creativity to cook anything different with such a primitive heating source. So in the end, no one liked my pancakes, not even the dogs, and the adults liked my pizza, but not the kids. I think the mozzarella cheese threw them off. I will continue to experiment, as I have much desire to teach the family about new ways to prepare/cook food and typical American food. P.S. Peruvians have never heard of burritos, enchiladas, quesadillas, or chimichangas. Unbeknownst to me, Mexican food never made it this far south, and it’s a sad thing that these Latin’s have never engorged themselves in such a delicacy…lol.

As summer winds down (less than a month) I’ve decided to run a children’s camp in town. It will last for a week, every morning from 9-12am. I’d like to facilitate healthy activities for the kids, such as a hand washing day, nutrition day, hygiene day, etc. and incorporate arts, crafts, games and songs. The week after, “Carnival” begins here in town, and although it is celebrated all over the country during the month of Feb. we evidently celebrate only the second week of March. Carnival is a celebration like Mardi Graz, minus the parades, floats and partial nudity. They celebrate by throwing water balloons, or by squirting water with water guns. The department of Cajamarca is notorious for their carnival celebration (last week of April, first week of March). It takes place in the capital city. Everyone is a target, it has gotten so bad in years past that the police have sanctioned certain hours for play time. Kids out in the country take carnival to another level (as I have heard), by throwing balloons full of paint, and even pig excrement. Thank you Peace Corps for not assigning me to Cajamarca, and boy do I feel sorry for the volunteers who live there….

I will be traveling to Lima (12 hours away by bus) for a conference on the 14th and 15th of March. It’s a two day event held at PC headquarters to reconnect and teach our counterparts about projects and funding. I’m bringing my two counterparts, Juan and Rosa. I hope to head out to Santa E. to visit my old host family, and take advantage of some of the finer parts of the country capital (read=American restaurants, shopping, and nightlife).

Last night as I was walking home from Chota, after a short visit with Ana, and I was struck by the beauty of a marvelous sunset. It span throughout the entire horizon, incredible colors of red, and purple and blue. I stood in awe, taking it in. Pinching myself as a reminder of the gift I was given to serve as a volunteer in such a beautiful country. I’ve come to find the sunsets here don’t last as long as ours. In just a matter of minutes it can go from dusk to complete darkness. I think it has something to do with the equator and the location of Peru. Don’t ask me, I slept through that geography class.

I think of all of you often, and wonder what life is like in the states. I mostly think of Boston and memories from these past few years. (P.S. my bedroom walls are adorned with dozens of pictures of you guys). Henniker comes to mind, and the realization that the poor in town are so much richer than the poor here in Carata. We have everything at our fingertips, and here, people go hungry. I understand why it’s so difficult for PC volunteers to come home after two years of service, that transition seems to scare me. It is often said that reverse culture shock is worse. When you realize it’s your own home, your own country that you’re afraid of, when you know you should recognize the world around you and you can’t. Just a thought…xoxoxox

I´m trying to connect a link to snapfish so you can see entire albums of mine. the link is here http://www.snapfish.com/home/t_=10136724 Eventually it will be listed on the right hand site of this site. There are currently old pics of mine from 2001-2005. Check it out!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNI!!

February 2nd! Happy Birthday Jenni! I’ve been in Perú for more than four months now. It began to rain last week. Finally. The rainy season came late, but it sure came. It has been raining on and off for a week now, starting in the morning at 10 or 11am and continuing all day until evening. These “aguaceros” will last until March or April, and then the season will change to summer. Dry and hot during the day and cold at night. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to purchase rubber boots….

My mountain bike arrived this month. Peace Corps rents bikes to volunteers who live in areas where there is little transportation. It’s a great program, as the bike is free of charge, and after my two years of service I either return it or donate it to a replacement volunteer. Included was a bright red helmet. I am quite the eye-sore in town with my fancy American bike and flashy red helmet. Some of the country folk I’ve encountered on the road greet me with an open mouth and long face. Helmets do not exist in Peru. I may as well be an astronaut on earth in their eyes. lol

One afternoon, my host dad Juan and I were sitting in the dinning room. He was helping me with some grammar exercises. Our cook, Marta and her daughter, Merley and Jesus (Juan’s son) were out of the house. Hours later when the three of them came home, we watched some TV and waited for the rain to slow. Someone noticed that our chicken was gone. Sometimes they walk down from where they stay and come onto our patio, usually they stay there but they can walk as far as into the road as well. We were sure the chicken had escaped into the road and had taken off. Unfortunately no one had been around for several hours.

We looked everywhere for the chicken. Even I helped, knowing that chickens cost about 12 or 13 soles (and it would probably be my next meal) I was anxious to know its whereabouts. It began to get late and we ate dinner, pondering over the chicken. We came to the conclusion that it had escaped during the afternoon and was probably long gone or someone in town had brought it home for themselves. I went to bed.

Juan awoke early in the morning to a peculiar noise he claimed to be a rodent under his bed. The noise continued until he couldn’t stand it anymore and he got up. He saw a large white mass under his bed. Laughing, he managed to free the chicken and return it to home, up around the house. More laughable is the fact that Marta tells me she couldn’t sleep that night, because she was thinking about the chicken! She was so relieved to know that the meal had been spared and the mystery was solved!

This month I’m going to begin to work with two local farmers in town. They are both friend’s of Juan and trustworthy men. I’ve visited their fields and was impressed with their products and knowledge. They are growing potatoes (of course), corn, carrots, pura pura, lettuce, radishes, yucca, ocra, various herbs, apples, peaches, tomatoes, quiwicha, onions, and much much more. Many vegetables I’ve never even heard of. One of the farmers raises bees. Yeah, honey. I’m very excited about helping them out, learning how they work and the crop seasonal calendar. The more I can learn about what is grown in my community, the better. As I will be focusing on nutrition for many of my health presentations. I can’t expect people to prepare and eat food that isn’t available to them. This “internship” with the farmers will be very rewarding.

Anna, a volunteer from Peace Corps Dominican Republic arrived on the 25th. She is continuing her service in Peru and will complete her fourth year as a volunteer this year! She comes with tremendous experience, and a great understanding of Castellano. She lives a hour and half from me and is the closest volunteer to my site. We live in very similar towns, and we’ll be programming together over this next year. I’m delighted to have a volunteer close by, especially someone who speaks English and understands American culture!

ps Sunday night i will be celebrating the super bowl on a rooftop in Trujillo. GO PITTSBURGH, EAST COAST PRIDE!

Junior, the local musician in town.

Merley and Jesus (who live with us).
Story-time with the gringo.

¡2006 update from Perú!

The holidays have passed and I’m begining to see what normal life is like in Carata. Unfortunatly for us (pc volunteers) we arrived in the beginning of December which is a non productive month for Peruvians. Everyone is thinking about Christmas and new years, and not about work. Not to mention the kids end their school year in mid December as well. It becomes summer vacation. This worked out well for me though, as I have been able to meet the locals and participate in the festivities. What’s better than the holidays to bring people together? Christmas came and went, and although it was my first Christmas away from the States, I had an excellent time with my host family in Trujillo and their extended family. A Peruvian Christmas is similar to ours but much simpler. Each family member receives a few presents, “Paneton” which is fruit cake is consumed in mass quantities and everyone dances late into the morning of the 25th.

I spent the 25th on the beach of Huanchaco, the closest beach to the city of Trujillo. It’s a very tranquil surfer town, that isn’t very developed but still touristy. I hung out with other volunteers, ate a lot of delicious food (including vegetarian!) I can’t find in Carata. We all stayed at a hostel and paid $3.50 a night. My friend Eli rented a tent and slept under the stars. All and all it was a great Christmas. I came back to Trujillo and Katie, another volunteer took me by the store where she bought her mattress. I bought the same one, for 220 soles ($66.00). She said it would change my life and it has.

New Years was unreal. We ate a late dinner at 11pm and waited for midnight, dancing salsa from the music of the radio. At midnight we toasted with 12 grapes in our champagne (for 12 months of good luck). Then we went outside, met other locals on the street and doused homemade-life size-dolls with gasoline and lit them on fire. The burning of dolls is done in every town in Peru. The dolls symbolize the old year, and by burning them a new year can begin. It’s very pagan/voodoo. There are other superstitious activities for new years as well, such as running around town (in a circle) with suitcases for safe travel in the New Year, and wearing yellow underwear for good luck. The color yellow? I don’t know why.

On January 3rd Rosa (my counter-part) and I had a meeting in a near by town at the health center. I decided to take the opportunity to go to Otuzco and check my email. This is the only other place I can check email, unless I’m in Trujillo. I went with Ruth the niece of Juan (my host dad). We had lunch with another friend and I chatted via msn messenger with Mom and Dad in N.H. It was so great to hear from them, and see them “live”. But the day didn’t end there.

Getting back to Agallpampa for the meeting was an adventure I will never forget. I knew Rosa and I would be staying the night in Agallpampa (to return to Carata that same day would have been difficult in the dark.) so I figured I could take my sweet time in Otuzco. By 4:30 I was done with internet and shopping. I waited for a taxi and when one finally came by he wanted to wait until the car was full before we left. I anticipated this, as it is typical here. There are taxi’s called “colectivos” that carpool passengers. It ends up being a cheap fare, but you often have to wait until the car is full before leaving. Time is definitely not an urgent issue for Peruvians. In fact, that night I learned how unimportant time and schedules really are.

It was 5:15pm when we left Otuzco. The driver was to take us to the fork in the road where I would wait for any truck, bus, van, whatever that was driving through Agallpampa. I paid the driver and waited on the side of the road with the two others from my taxi. We got cold, and decided to wait in the taxi. Someone said at 6 a bus would be by. I got out a book and began to read. The woman beside me began asking who I was, and what I was doing(in Peru). I recited my rehearsed response, to cease her curiosity and went back to reading but was quickly interrupted by her verbose tale about a woman named “Barbara” from Minnesota. “No, I don’t know “Barbara”. I told her, looking at my watch. The U.S. is a big country. lol

By 7pm I was getting antsy, and thinking about walking to Agallpampa (which would have taken 2 hours or so). The three others in the car could tell I was ready to peace out by my comments like, “the bus should have been here by now”, “I’ve got to get to a meeting that’s probably over by now”, and “it’s getting dark, huh?”. They assured me that they wouldn’t rob me, (chuckling) and that they were honest people and that I should just wait it out. I wave of panic over-struck me as a realized I had left my USB drive in the back the hard drive of the computer in the internet café in Otuzco! We were only a 10 minute drive from Otuzco and I pleaded with the driver to take me back to see if it was there. He knew he could make some $ by driving me there and back, so he accepted. The other two passengers got out and waited on the street. I told them we’d be right back, thinking of the significance of the USB and how I would be crushed if it was lost or stolen, considering all the important files and pictures it contained.

Thank you, Jesus. The USB was still attached to the same computer where I once sat, hours before. It had gone unnoticed, as it was plugged into the back of the hard drive. Out of breath, and gasping, I thanked the internet attendant and took off running down the hill to retrieve my taxi driver. He wanted to wait until the taxi was full before we left again, and I forced a laugh, reminding him I needed to get to Agallpampa, which meant I had to catch that bus from the fork in the road. I told him I’d pay him 6 soles roundtrip and he finally agreed after some bitching. I looked at my watch and it was 5 til 8pm. I hoped we’d make it back before this supposed “bus” would arrive, if it would arrive at all that night.

We returned to the fork in the road, and I disembarked the taxi, paying the inflated price. At least the USB was safe in my hands. The same two passengers waited on the side of the road, updating me that nothing but logging and mining trucks had passed. Least I didn’t miss the bus, I thought to myself. The wind blew, making things colder; I pulled out my winter hat and put it on snuggly. The other two were pacing in the dark to keep warm. I asked them, what the deal was and they replied, “A bus is sure to come by at 9pm”. I joked with them that the most significant thing I’ve learned from Peru is that “demora”=delay, is a part of daily life. And explained how punctual we are in North America, and that everything runs on time. (a little white lie….)

9pm!! Are you kidding me! “I cannot, no, will not, wait 4 hours for a bus, when I could have walked in the dark 2 hours and arrived just fine.” I told the male passenger I would rather stay at a friends or a hotel in Otuzco for the night than wait any longer. I was cold, hungry and sick of talking with these strangers. I thought of my living room in Carata, where I usually was at 8pm watching “El Cuerpo de Deseo” a trashy soap opera that the whole country was hooked on. I looked up at the stars and decided to go buy something to eat from the tiny house lit by a kerosene lamp, for there was no electricity. I bought some saltines, (as there was little selection) crossed the street and offered the goods to my fellow passengers. The three of us finished the package instantly. I told them I’d wait until 9pm, but not any later, as I had made up my mind to walk to Otuzco and stay the night.

Every set of headlights that climbed the highway was mistaken for the bus. Larger trucks passed, none willing or able to take passengers. The police passed. I thought of stopping them and explaining my ordeal, but they didn’t look terribly friendly. By 9:15 I was pissed, still hungry and cold, and ready to walk. But my new friends on the street convinced me to stay, as they had over heard from another driver that the bus was indeed coming, they had just stopped for dinner. DINNER!! Are you serious! Don’t they know there are people, starving people, waiting for them!!! This was incredible!! More than incredible, ridiculous!

At 9:30 the bus arrived and I held back from yelling out “Hallelujah”. It was extremely packed, so full, the coldness I had felt from being outside for 4 hours was quickly alleviated and overtaken by the body heat and body odor from the dozens of other passengers. I hoped they enjoyed their dinner. I stood, cramped in the aisle next to two seats where 4 people and small dog sat. Now, how long would I be on this amusement park ride I wondered, 30 or 40 minutes until Agallpampa? It was too dark outside to see landmarks..I felt sick.

I knocked on the health center’s doors, hoping not to wake anyone, but not really caring if I did. “Hermus” opened the door and I jumped inside as if I was being followed. I explained the hell I had been through and he looked at me, as if I was crazy. With attitude, he explained the fact that there was no transportation back from Otuzco after 2pm, as if it was common knowledge. Scum bag. I asked where Rosa was and he said she had gone back to Carata, much earlier. The meeting had ended early and she was able to get back before dark. Sweet. Thanks Rosa, for leaving me….As if my night couldn’t have gotten any better.

Obviously there was some miscommunication between Rosa and I, because I was sure we were staying the night in Agallpampa. Whatever. Otherwise I would have come back earlier, say… before 2pm! I bought some yogurt, more crackers and juice from a store, ate it and went to bed at the health center. The next morning I waited another 2 hours for a ride home and started walking then got picked up by a logging truck, and rode in the back.

I ate some mango that day after lunch. That night I woke up dizzy, feeling sick to my stomach. I threw up various times though out the night, and took a couple of trips to the latrine with diarrhea. The next morning was the 5th, which began the town’s celebration of Three Kings Day on the 6th. I woke up Mena (host mom) and we walked to the health post to wake up Rosa. She gave me some kind of antibiotic and Mena made a disgusting re-hydration drink called a “suero casero”. I was sick all day Thursday and very weak Friday but out of bed to see some of the festivities. Two marching bands from Otuzco came and played all day and all night. The festivities ran from Thursday morning to early Saturday morning. Music played all night, and fireworks were lit off incessantly for 48 hours. It’s hard to rest when it sounds like gun shots. Three Kings Day was bigger than Christmas and New Years, and I was sick.

Since then I’ve been just fine. Trying to plan out projects for the month and new year. I had a successful program where I read a children’s book to a group of kids. Topic: Hand washing and general hygiene. The highlight was getting all the kids into the health post bathroom to wash their grubby little paws.

It’s hard to stay positive and motivated when I look around town and see nothing but work to be done. It’s depressing and overwhelming. I went for a walk to clear my head. As I sat on a stump overlooking the mountain range I tried to rationalize my existence in this community, for all that they think I am the strange American, they are growing to accept me. And for that I am thankful, but still struggling with the huge tasks that lye ahead. Projects that will take much more than two years to complete. Such as potable water, trash disposal, a recycling program, healthier stoves, cages for cuy, and general hygiene practices. The locals think they will get sick if they bathe (cold water=sick), they think it’s perfectly normal to drink tap water, burn trash and throw litter, and share a kitchen with dozens of guinea pigs and rabbits. This is what I’m dealing with, and it’s only the beginning.

I’ve realized that it is very easy to get overwhelmed by the enormity of these problems in my town. Ironically few think they are problems, this is normal life for them. It is me, someone from the outside who recognizes these discrepancies. And only I see them as tribulations because of my culture which idolizes cleanliness and sterility. If I can work to change the minds of these people, and get them to agree with me I’d be happy. It’s a matter of improving quality of life. But it’s going to take a lot of compromise on my part and theirs. And I have to remember to work with them, and not against them. Because where would I be otherwise?