It's Wrong, It's All Wrong!

Without a doubt one of the biggest challenges for independent-minded Peace Corps Volunteers is living under someone else’s roof, let alone the cultural differences and different daily routines that exist under that roof.  My family is good to me but they are starting to lose their patience with how “illogical” I am, and by my standards Peruvians are pretty harsh in their criticisms of friends and family.  My host dad is also convinced that I only don’t understand his Spanish when it is convenient for me (not true!).

As an example of what I mean, here is a list of things I did wrong while trying to make no-bake sweets for my family tonight:

• Picked the wrong pot; the pot I picked is not for sweets.
• Used the wrong bowl for my ingredients, even worse since I’ve already been told about the bowls that should be used for those things.
• Should never have used a drinking glass to measure ingredients, since that is only for drinks.
• Was told to explain everything that I was going to do and need, so that my host mom could tell me exactly what to use since I “don’t know how to use a kitchen.”  Declined to tell her I would need a plate to cool them on, which was a problem because…
• I used the wrong plates to cool the sweets.  Should have asked for the sweets dish.
• Didn’t let the pot soak long enough, therefore scratched the pot while cleaning it, and my host mom has had these pots since she was single.
• Not sure exactly what I did wrong in washing the plates, but they needed to be washed again.
• Even though the utensils needed to be dried with a towel, the plates should not be dried, they need to air dry for a while.

At least I used the correct towel to dry the plates, since I’ve been told “how many times” which one is the dish towel (on the right of the oven) and which is the hand towel (on the left of the oven).

For those of you that know me well, you know I am not particularly passive when it comes to being told that I am doing something wrong… and those of you that know me really well know that I never do anything wrong.  Haha. Anyway, you can imagine how difficult it has been for me to bite my tongue in these daily situations, swallow my arguments, and smile and nod.  The reality is that this family accepted a foreign stranger into their house for two years, they cook for me every day, and I really should learn not to scratch the pots that are important to my host mom.  It’s difficult when I feel like every day I am doing something that frustrates or offends my host family, and I’ve tried to talk to both my host mom and my host dad about that- that the constant criticism makes me feel like they are unhappy with me being in the house.  In the end, their manner of telling me when I’m doing wrong (i.e. harsh) is the way everyone talks to each other here, and that’s not going to change- I’m just trying to take things less personally, let my pride go, and “do it their way” next time.  At the same time, I can’t spend two years feeling like people are walking all over me, so I’m getting a little better at finding some boundaries where I can calmly explaining why a particular criticism is not fair.

The no-bake sweets were delicious, by the way.

Generational Differences

I apologize in advance, this is a long and history-filled post!

Peru is a very interesting and exciting country in which to serve in the Peace Corps, because of how many rapid changes have occurred over the last few generations.  Although there still exist many sad realities of poverty in my town and elsewhere, in some ways it seems that the march of development on the northern coast of Peru is unstoppable.  The obstacles are quite obvious- corruption, poor education, and expectations of outside help are probably the three biggest to me.  But it is obvious that the young people in Monsefú today are growing up in a completely different world than their grandparents and parents did.

To give you an idea of how much Peru has gone through in the past few decades on the national scale, here's a brief timeline:

1968-1980: MILITARY RULE.  Aggressive agrarian reform seeks to redistribute an essentially feudal landownership system to a more inclusive system.  Capital-poor and mostly uneducated farmers were not equipped to meet previous production and distribution capacity.  SHORTAGES, RATIONING, SOCIAL UNREST, AND INFLATION.  El Niño in 1972 worsens the agricultural and fishing crisis.  

1980s: RETURN OF DEMOCRACY. Peru returns to civilian rule with re-election of Fernando Belaunde as president.  More El Niño in 1982-1983, which means more agricultural destruction, shortages and inflation, worsened by the mismanagement of bloated state-owned companies.  Desperation spurs the social and political conditions for the birth of SENDERO LUMINOSO (Shining Path) and Tupac Amaru, two terrorist groups that dominate poor Andean regions and eventually reach Lima.  Blackouts, public executions, etc.  The election of Alan García in 1985 marks the first democratic transition in 40 years, but the economic and security crises continue to worsen.  Hyper inflation reaches over 2 million %.  Emergency zones are established to fight the terrorists, and thousands of peasants are killed by both terrorists and military forces.

Shining Path activity decreased
significantly after the capture of
Abimael Guzman.

1990s:  Newly-elected President Albert Fujimori implements drastic economic policies to tackle inflation (which dropped from 7,650% in 1990 to 139% in 1991).  The program restores macroeconomic stability but not without significant social agony as the cost of living rises rapidly.  Privatization, replacement of the currency, and restored confidence from international loan institutions leads to high and stable economic growth, reaching 13% in 1994.  In 1992, Fujimori dissolves the Congress, saying they didn't allow him to effectively combat the economic crisis or terrorism- this act is highly supported by the citizenry.  Military responses to terrorism intensify.  Abimael Guzman, leader of Shining Path, is captured and sentenced to life in prison.  In 2000, Fujimori seeks an unconstitutional 3rd term and soon after his tainted victory, a bribery scandal breaks the news, leading to a flood of new information on an elaborate web of corruption.  Fujimori resigns and flees the country, new elections are held.

Alejandro Toledo was the first President
of native Indian origin.  He also grew up
with a Peace Corps Volunteer in his house
who helped him enter college in the
United States.

2000-2011: Under President Toledo (2001-2006), stable economic growth continues.  The Truth and Reconciliation Commission finds that 69,280 people died or disappeared between 1980 and 2000 as a result of the armed conflict.  Former President Fujimori is sentenced to 25 years in prison for corruption and human rights abuses.  Poverty reduction programs are implemented throughout the country with mixed results.  Alan García is re-elected in 2006, continuing poverty reduction (although uneven) and market liberation- Free Trade Agreement with the United States goes into effect in 2009, and deals with a number of other important countries (China, European Union, etc) were signed.  Dissatisfaction with social progress leads to the election of leftist Ollanta Humala in 2011, who so far has maintained market-oriented policies.  Eleven of Peru's 24 departments still have poverty levels above 40%.

If I haven't lost your interest yet, here are some things to keep in mind about the recent history of Monsefú:

• Before 1961, there was no high school in Monsefú, or pretty much anywhere in the region of Lambayeque except for the capital city Chiclayo.  My host father was a member of the first class of high school graduates in his town of Olmos- he waited four years after graduating primary school for the high school to open.  Also remember he was also one of his mother's 24 children (many of which didn't live long).  There are now two public high schools in Monsefú with about 1000 registered students each (although not all of those students attend), and a number of small private high schools.  The city of Chiclayo's first university was founded in 1970, and a number of private universities now exist too.  The difference in educational opportunities is obvious, although I don't want to give an overly rosy image.  High school attendance rates are not good and the quality of teaching/curriculum hardly ever leaves a student prepared to apply for university, so additional years of private study is necessary.  And if they do apply, they are often competing with thousands of other students for under 100 spots.
• My host brother estimates that the internet arrived in Chiclayo somewhere around 2000-2002, and in Monsefú somewhere around 2005.  Until very recently, access to it was very limited and expensive, but internet cabinas are now found all over the center of Monsefú.  Not many students know how to use the computer for more than Facebook or games, but the access to information is at least there potentially (And I plan to give computer classes to various age groups).

Okay, now on to some observations about the generations in Monsefú/Peru.

A while ago, a Lima-educated professor friend commented to me that some people in Monsefú (and other towns) treat the mayor as if we still live in a feudal system.  I saw this first-hand today, in a short parade the mayor sponsored for the adultos mayores, senior citizens as part of the town anniversary celebrations.  This generation of mostly very poor and uneducated grandparents (who lived through a nearly-feudal agrarian system and military rule) were hailing the mayor (Viva la Alcaldesa! Viva la Alcaldesa!) with enthusiastic thank-you's and unending applause as she handed out free shirts, bottles of water, and crackers.  I'm not saying it wasn't a nice event, but the blind obedience and God Bless the Alcaldesa's for the gracious gifts wasn't right to me.  As I discussed with the professor friend, they don't understand that the mayor's money is their money, and the mayor is supposed to be a public servant working for the benefit of the town.  Instead, I saw them treating her like a feudal lord.

In training, we also talked about how the feudal system and later economic crises have led to an expectation of "gifts" and hand-outs from the government, which was clearly evident in this adultos mayores event.  And as a foreigner I am basically a walking dollar sign to most people in my town, so after the mayor briefly introduced me to the crowd, one abuela pulled me down to her level to beg to me, that she doesn't have children to support her and she's all alone, please help her (she's the one farthest to the right in the front row, in the picture above).  I told her I'm a volunteer, I don't have a salary or funds, I'm sorry.  I can't really tell what her reaction was, either disappointment, indifference, or anger, but she let go of me and didn't make any more eye contact.

Contrast this with last Wednesday, the central day of Monsefú's anniversary.  While all of the town's authorities were in the Municipality listening to the mayor's speech and award recognitions, we started to hear chants outside.  When I exited the building, I saw a large group of protesters, almost purely young and middle-aged men, blocked off by police with riot shields.  While I was there they seemed civil but clearly angry with the mayor (she's got a lot of enemies).  I later learned that it was a demonstration by the mototaxistas, and supposedly rocks and bricks were thrown which led to the Vice-President of the group being arrested.  I don't know how to directly relate this to recent history in Peru, but it was clear that this younger and possibly more high-school educated group had very different expectations of the mayor.  I'm also willing to bet the access to TV has a lot to due with the younger generations' attitudes, as national and international news gives lot of information on investigations, corruption scandals, demonstrations, strikes, etc.  I should also mention that mototaxistas are not exactly the most passive group of characters, so they don't represent the majority of the younger generations.  Lastly, the comparison between old women and younger men definitely is a huge factor- my town is no exception to the machista culture of Peru.  Anyway, take the comparison for what it's worth.

Last night I talked with a woman from another town about how Monsefú seems to be stagnating as other nearby towns progress.  There are a variety of obstacles to Monsefú's development, but advancement seems inevitable in the end.  The people here are hard-working and are gaining more access to education and information.  It's encouraging to think that I will see positive changes here over the next two years, although most advancement will probably only occur in access to basic services.  But it's definitely an exciting time to be in Peru, because you never know what might come next to a small town.

   

Stuff Monsefuanos Like

Whistling.  At their friends, across the park, at potential combi or colectivo customers, at women, and as a sound effect in stories.

Spontaneous naps.  Many monsefuanos work HARD, either in the chacra (field) or at home cooking all day and doing artesanía all night.  My host dad pulled an all-nighter to finish the sash for Señorita Monsefú, but as a result he is entitled to doze off in any situation he needs to- at the lunch table, in the middle of a conversation with me, etc.  No one seems to notice or care when someone’s eyes close either- during a meeting of 5 women around a table two days ago, no one made a comment when one dozed off for a solid 20 minutes.

Guilt-tripping.  Monsefuanos are incredibly persuasive people.   They are masters of the Peruvian “whiny” voice (imagine a kid saying 'But Dad, you promised...') and beyond that somehow always trick me into attending meetings that I swore I didn’t have time for.  Example:

     Me: “Hi Javier!  How are you?”

     Javier: “Great, are you coming to our meeting right now?”
     Me: “No I’m sorry, I told the president I can’t because I promised I’d help with Señorita Monsefú.”
     Javier: “Oh but that’s not going to start for a while.  Look, no one’s here.  Let’s just go really quickly over to the church…”
     Me: “But I promised I’d be here…”
     Javier: *really sad face* “Come on, it’s just across the park, it will take no time at all, I’ll walk you back to the Municipality afterwards, we just have a few things to talk about with you…”

Canadians.  In 1961, a congregation of Canadian nuns and priests arrived to direct the Catholic Church.  The young Father Carlos Conroy (I’m guessing his real name was Charles) not only became a strong church leader, but also was elected mayor a year or two later.  He and the nuns also founded either the first or second high school in Monsefú (the same year as the first public high school), in which the nuns taught with an iron fist similar to many Catholic schools in the US during that period.  Many of the adults here fondly remember their schooling with the nuns, as a school that had order and quality teaching that often lacks here nowadays.  Tragically, Father Conroy and two nuns died in a car accident on the Panamerican Highway a little ways outside of Monsefú.  As result of the contributions Padre Conroy led in Monsefú (which involved a lot of investment of money in buildings and roads) and his tragic death, he is treated essentially as a saint here.

Motorcycles.  Most have a 3-person seat attached to them, making them motataxis.  For a 26 year-old boy who still lives with mom and dad, having his own moto-taxi is probably the closest he gets to independence, so it seems like almost every male between the ages of 16 and 30 in Monsefú spends the day cleaning and fixing his ride, cruising around town, blaring Reggaeton and honking at friends and girls, and almost running me over (I had one really close call).


Stream of consciousness.  This is definitely not particular to Monsefú.  At a meeting in Chiclayo, it took the director 2 hours to read through two pages because of the number of anecdotes he told in the middle of the narration.  Once someone gets the floor at a meeting or lunch table, it is very difficult for anyone else to talk because one story melts seamlessly into the next, and before you know it 45 minutes have passed.  In some way this takes the pressure off me because I get to just listen a lot, but when there is something I need to talk about, it is quite frustrating.  I’ve gotten better at taking advantage of the smallest pauses in the monologue to interrupt with my question before the person gets on a roll.


Parades.  Most holidays in Monsefú last a month each- the town anniversary, the town patron’s anniversary, the town patron’s half-anniversary (seriously), Independence Day/festival of regional traditions, and every school’s anniversary (there are something like 20 schools in my town, between the private and public).  Therefore, I don’t think a week has passed without at least one parade.  Most involve a marching band or speakers traveling on a truck, and lots of cute kids in costumes including smurfs, pirates, clowns, and traditional Peruvian styles.  Some lucky 16 year-old boys sometimes get to use these things that are half stilts and half pogo-sticks; paint me jealous.  Between Monsefú and Chiclayo I have participated in 4 parades to date and that number will be up to 6 or 7 by the end of this week.

I want these stilt things...

Star-Studded Night in Monsefú

Monsefú is in full anniversary celebration, and Friday October 21st was the night every teenager has been waiting for- the election of Señorita Monsefú.

Thursday, October 20th: "One will be chosen..." reads the title of the advertisement outside of the Municipality (with our Holy Mother of Mercy looking on).  Four of these girls are 16 years-old and one is 19.

The night begins: everybody who's anybody is there.  I had a seat of honor right next to the Mayor (woman on the left side of the picture in the front row).  Also note the enormous banner for one of the candidates.

They open with a "modern" dance number to Britney Spears.

An homage to Señor de Sipan, complete with an inappropriately short dress directed straight at the audience.

The solemn judges table, with my host dad in the center.

Showing their traditional-wear

The moment of truth approaches... Señorita Monsefú 2010 gives her last wave

Each candidate gives a 7 minute speech on Monsefú.  One candidate gets too nervous and runs off stage after a minute of heart-wrenching silence.

AND... I sadly don't have any pictures of the big moment, because I was asked to come on stage with the other "authorities" (oh yeah, I'm a big fish).  But I can tell you it was everything you would expect from a beauty pageant, half the crowd goes crazy celebrating and crying, the other half abruptly leaves disgusted with the results, the 2nd place winner has to keep a fake smile plastered on her face to take pictures with the winner who gets the crown.

It was quite the night, really everything you could ever expect out of a beauty pageant.  16 year-old girls acting way too sexy in front of their parents, rumors that one of the candidates was actually born in Argentina, fantastic performances and tragic "choke" moments, and lots of tears both happy and sad.  At least there wasn't a bathing suit scene.

WINS

I'm back on my horse, and have been feeling great for two days now.  Reasons I'm in a great mood today:

• Peru is playing Chile in a World Cup qualifier, coming off a huge win in their first qualifying game against Paraguay.  If Peru qualifies this year (by being one of the top 5 teams in South America, excluding Brazil) it will be Peru's first time in the World Cup in THIRTY years, and they have a real chance at it!

My brother and I using Mac Photobooth to pretend that we're in Santiago at the game

• I retrieved TWO care packages from the post office today!  Thank you Mom and Becca!!
• My Dad and I made an awesome lunch together today.  He loved my pesto, so he had bought more basil and we decided to "experiment" with combining my pesto recipe with his spinach sauce recipe.  IT. WAS. AMAZING.  Basil, spinach, olive oil, parmesan, garlic, shallot-type things, aji (spicy pepper), water, and salt.  Cross-cultural WIN.
• Things with my family are back to normal, which means they are constantly cracking jokes at my expense... for example, yesterday I was washing my clothes with the washing machine (Yes, I have a washing machine in the Peace Corps, go figure).  The water has to be added bucket-by-bucket to the machine at the beginning and mid-cycle, so my dad yells to my room "Kim, quiere agua"... to which I responded "No, gracias" thinking that he asked if I wanted water... so he diessssss laughing and then repeats the joke at least 20 times yesterday and today.  Jokes never get old here in Perú.
• I'm making simultaneous progress on my surveys and a small project- all this week I am visiting the English classes of one high school to introduce the email exchange we are going to do with my high school Spanish teacher's classes in the US.  I'm also taking this time to give them a little talking to about the "HELLO HELLO" shouts I have gotten sick of hearing across town.  I told them that since they all know my name now (they actually knew it before I came today, which made me happy) I expect to be greeted with my name, and not by shouts across the park. I said I would love to talk to you too but I will only respond when I am greeted in a respectful way.
• SPRING is coming.  I love me some Vitamin D.
• Other projects are still stumbling along slowly (essentially not moving), but I am less upset about it when my home life is good.  Also, I'm starting to develop good relationships with some previous contacts, so hopefully those translate into actual helpful counterparts at some point.  
• A group of volunteers bought access to watch NFL Sunday games, so I am joining them this Sunday at a great beach, to watch the Redskins v. Eagles game!

Update: the party has been dampered slightly by the fact that 18 minutes into the game, Chile is now winning 2-0... at least I have American candy to help our pain...  

In honor of the Peru v. Chile game, here's a little South American fun fact for you:

• I learned recently that Ecuadorians hate Peruvians.  This goes back to various wars and territorial disputes, which left Ecuadorians feeling pretty bitter.  It also seems that they don't like that the Amazon, Incas, Andes, etc. are all associated with Peru when they are part of Ecuador too.  
• Peruvians don't particularly care about Ecuador because...
• Peruvians hate Chileans.  Haaaaaaate.  Probably comes up on a weekly basis here, about some coastal plate, drink, dance, or other Peruvian tradition that the Chileans are trying to pass off as theirs (popular examples include chicha and ceviche).  "The war" is often brought up as if it was yesterday, even though it was 130 years ago- I thought this was a little ridiculous until a historian in Lima told us "it's just like the Civil War in the United States... feels like yesterday to the losing side."  It is exactly like the Civil War! (At least to my Southern friends)
• From what I have gathered, Chileans don't particularly care about Peru, in fact it's well acknowledged that Peruvian food is better than Chilean food.  Chile doesn't care about Peru because...
• ....I don't know.  Who does Chile hate?  Argentina?

Even in the bad times, I can't imagine ever quitting the Peace Corps.  I came into this experience knowing (vaguely) what I was getting myself into, and I consider the experience, with all of its frustrations, a very important part of my career training.  If I gave up on Peace Corps, I would be giving up on the whole idea of global development...then what would I do?  

A friend from college wrote to me recently asking some questions about my Peace Corps experience, since she is in the application process but having second thoughts about if the experience is worth it.  Here's what I said:

it is definitely extremely frustrating some days, but at least right now i find it more rewarding than frustrating. if you had asked me two days ago i might have said differently!  but even though on-the-ground experience can feel more frustrating than rewarding, i'm telling myself that that's a really important to experience. PC is really unique in the way that we work, supporting projects until they are completed, vs. other NGOs that do great work in trainings, grants, etc but don't provide the support to make really sustainable change (forgive the cliche). the hardest, most frustrating part is working with people who have never finished a long-term project unless it was something un-complicated like cementing a road. PC volunteers push them and support them step by step until an artisan association is organized and formalized, or a grant is written to get funds for a water well. in a lots of towns, i feel like what the developing world lacks is project management experience, and that's what causes the dependence on outside assistance.

So, I will try to keep fighting through the frustrations with the following mantra:

"I don't want to get to the end of my life and find I have lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well." -Diane Ackerman

Sorry this post was kind of disjointed, but that's where my highly-caffeinated thoughts are today.  By the way, I think instant coffee is more addictive than regular coffee.

Dancing the Blues Away

Hope you enjoy the above video, all of the dancers are from Monsefú except for the teenage girl.  The others are winners from various marinera competitions in Monsefú.  I took this video at a recent parade I participated in (my count is now up to 3) in Chiclayo.  How precious are the niños?  I'm definitely stealing that little boy, don't tell his mom.  The little girl, Daniela, lovvves her marinera dress and has quite the stage presence.  I have yet to learn la marinera, but hope I find a non-creepy teacher soon.

I'm still having a hard time finding a way to deal with my cultural frustrations.  Volunteers are really right when they say the things you think will be hard aren't, and things you can't expect will be the hardest.  I'm hoping everything will be resolved somewhat soon, meanwhile I am planning my first day-trip to the beach on Sunday, with my Volunteer friend Hallie.