Elementary students, my kids are older (13-17 years old).
Sunday, May 21, 2006
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!
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!
Sunday, April 30, 2006
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
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!
A local resturant in Huanchaco,
Jenni and Bill, Thanks for visiting me!
Monday, March 27, 2006
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!
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!
Sunday, March 26, 2006
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
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
Sunday, February 19, 2006
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!
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!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
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!
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!
Sunday, January 15, 2006
¡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?
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?
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Merry Christmas 2005 !!!
WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY AND HEALTHY CHRISTMAS!! I´m spending this year with my host family in the city of Trujillo. We´ll begin the holiday at midnight on the 25th, with hot chocolate and fruitcake. They begin opening christmas gifts at midnight and stay up till 2 or 3am dancing and celebrating the holiday. During the daytime of the 25th, they relax, enjoy the company of family and rest from a long night. CHEERS TO CHRISTMAS IN PERÚ!!
American humor, gone. Comradery, gone. Invaluable advice, gone. The English language, gone.
12-12-05
Just when I thought I had this whole Peace Corps job figured out, everything changed. No matter how much training/preparation we received these past three months, nothing could have prepared me for those first couple of days in my new site. The overwhelming feeling that this is my permanent home began to freak me out a little. Just when I was getting accustomed to my host family during training, the town of Santa Eulalia, and the different ways of transportation and communication, we graduated and moved.
“We” is an interesting word because “we” consisted of my allies, my fellow confidantes who were just as crazy as I am for accepting this assignment, and whom I began to trust and love. The 31 other volunteers whom I spent every moment with for the past 10 weeks have been scattered over eight different departments within Perú. I am at least four hours away from another volunteer. More likely five, given the means of transportation here.
Therefore, not only was it difficult to move into this new town, Carata, but more so to say goodbye to an incredible support system of volunteers. American humor, gone. Comradery, gone. Invaluable advice, gone. The English language, gone. I really began to wonder how everyone else is doing in there sites, and how much I would love to hear about their experiences. But there’s no cell service, and the closest internet is 2.5 hours down the Andes Mountains!
I am now living without drinkable water, using a latrine (read: out-house), taking a cold shower once, maybe twice a week (if I force myself). The whole hygiene issue could be another chapter. There is no refrigerator, microwave or oven. My family cooks over a fire in a smoky kitchen. In my diet, dairy and green vegetables don’t exist. There is one satellite phone booth for the whole town. And when it rings, a young girl calls out for the person! "Juaaannnnnn, telefono!" Electricity arrived two years ago, and fortunately it works 24/7. We have a pig, chickens, a rabbit, and too many cuy to count.
Did I mention how cold it is? And supposedly it’s summer here!?! It gets so cold at night, I’ve been sleeping in a bed inside a sleeping bag, with four blankets. And I wear long underwear. I can see my breath. It warms up during the day but not quite enough to wear short sleeves. We are having a drought this year and it’s affecting everyone. It hasn’t rained for months. Water usually runs out daily, so families try to save it in buckets, but than that leaves even less for everyone else. I witnessed a woman kill a chicken with her bare hands yesterday. Then we ate it. If I eat one more serving of potatoes or rice I’m going to explode.
Although this entry sounds incredibly pessimistic, I really wouldn’t want this experience to be any other way. This was the original reason why I applied for PC. Having become a comfortable yuppie in the states, it was time for a change. I wanted to be completely out of my comfort zone, I wanted to live in a place where I would be challenged, and I wanted to make sacrifices. I got what I asked for…..
Everyday presents a new challenge. Everyday I am slaying my dragons but most certainly I’m building character and accepting this world around me as my new reality.
Just when I thought I had this whole Peace Corps job figured out, everything changed. No matter how much training/preparation we received these past three months, nothing could have prepared me for those first couple of days in my new site. The overwhelming feeling that this is my permanent home began to freak me out a little. Just when I was getting accustomed to my host family during training, the town of Santa Eulalia, and the different ways of transportation and communication, we graduated and moved.
“We” is an interesting word because “we” consisted of my allies, my fellow confidantes who were just as crazy as I am for accepting this assignment, and whom I began to trust and love. The 31 other volunteers whom I spent every moment with for the past 10 weeks have been scattered over eight different departments within Perú. I am at least four hours away from another volunteer. More likely five, given the means of transportation here.
Therefore, not only was it difficult to move into this new town, Carata, but more so to say goodbye to an incredible support system of volunteers. American humor, gone. Comradery, gone. Invaluable advice, gone. The English language, gone. I really began to wonder how everyone else is doing in there sites, and how much I would love to hear about their experiences. But there’s no cell service, and the closest internet is 2.5 hours down the Andes Mountains!
I am now living without drinkable water, using a latrine (read: out-house), taking a cold shower once, maybe twice a week (if I force myself). The whole hygiene issue could be another chapter. There is no refrigerator, microwave or oven. My family cooks over a fire in a smoky kitchen. In my diet, dairy and green vegetables don’t exist. There is one satellite phone booth for the whole town. And when it rings, a young girl calls out for the person! "Juaaannnnnn, telefono!" Electricity arrived two years ago, and fortunately it works 24/7. We have a pig, chickens, a rabbit, and too many cuy to count.
Did I mention how cold it is? And supposedly it’s summer here!?! It gets so cold at night, I’ve been sleeping in a bed inside a sleeping bag, with four blankets. And I wear long underwear. I can see my breath. It warms up during the day but not quite enough to wear short sleeves. We are having a drought this year and it’s affecting everyone. It hasn’t rained for months. Water usually runs out daily, so families try to save it in buckets, but than that leaves even less for everyone else. I witnessed a woman kill a chicken with her bare hands yesterday. Then we ate it. If I eat one more serving of potatoes or rice I’m going to explode.
Although this entry sounds incredibly pessimistic, I really wouldn’t want this experience to be any other way. This was the original reason why I applied for PC. Having become a comfortable yuppie in the states, it was time for a change. I wanted to be completely out of my comfort zone, I wanted to live in a place where I would be challenged, and I wanted to make sacrifices. I got what I asked for…..
Everyday presents a new challenge. Everyday I am slaying my dragons but most certainly I’m building character and accepting this world around me as my new reality.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
I´m a PC Volunteer!
I have arrived in Trujillo, and will be traveling onto my site tomorrow morning. We´ve graduated from training as of Friday, and have officially sworn in as peace corps volunteers! I´m excited to be moving into my pernament home, but also sad to say goodbye to everyone i´ve been in training with. i may not see some of them until mid service conference, one year from now. we recieved our cell phones, equipted with built in flash lights, which will probably prove more useful in my town cause i won´t have any service. most of us won´t have service, but when we travel into our capital cities to get mail, or go to the bank we can use them. $10 a month isn´t bad for a phone.
Our Thankgiving, Peace Corps style-------->
If you want to communicate with me download msn messenger. you´ll need a hotmail address. this will probably be the best and cheapest way for me to keep in touch with everyone. msn messenger is very popular here and is on every computer at internet cafe´s. my screen name is ¨mateolindsley¨
I´ll be living in the mountains about 2 hours from the closest town with internet. therefore, i won´t be online as much, maybe once a week if that. if i´m online and you want to chat, say hi, i´d love to hear from you all. love you, Matt
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
The enormous welcoming
Carata en la noche. ps. you can click on these pics to enlarge.
School teachers, my counter-part (in blue vest), and host father (in red).
School kids dancing at my welcome ceremony.
My introduction to the community.
"Carata"-home sweet home...
The center of town. Aerial view of entire village---->
"Main street". ------>
Local school, elementary-high school.
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