Order in the Disorder

I'm HOME!  That is, I am back in Monsefú.  After visiting my other home, Washington DC!  It was obviously a much anticipated visit and I can't even begin to explain how wonderful it was to see my family and friends in the flesh.  I was particularly touched by family and friends that traveled from New York, Richmond, Charlottesville, and San Francisco against all odds to make this the most amazing homecoming ever.  I was completely overwhelmed with thankfulness for the love and support that I have around me, whether we are in the same city or thousands of miles away.  This weekend was proof that no matter the distance or time, we can always pick up where we left off.  And that was a great feeling to have as I returned "home" to Peru.

Some amazing Charlottesville, New York, and San Francisco people. And John looking awkward in the back.

Nothing can keep us apart for long.

My brother who I love dearly and I can't wait to have come visit me!

So, I of course got the question "is it weird to be back??"  Yes, it was.  For the first two days, it felt like a dream- I know this place and am completely happy and comfortable in it, but this isn't my life.  I also had a couple other more specific observations:

• People in the United States obey so many rules.  People wait quietly in line and listen to directions. What?
• My friends and family have really nice watches.
• The highways around DC and Virginia are so smooth and nice and huge.  The cars seem to be floating... they drive along at a constant speed, they signal and change lanes at a constant speed, and they take smooth exits at a constant speed.
• Customer service is so weird.  I mean, I am really enjoying this conversation, but why are you being so nice to me?   I'm just here to buy something...
• Technology is amazing.  Smartboards in classrooms.  Everyone on an iPhone.  Bar codes and credit cards and electronic check out.

During my visit home, I got to visit two classes that I have been working with from a distance, one Spanish class at my high school with my old Spanish teacher, and one 6th grade class taught by my UVa friend Elizabeth.  Here I am with Elizabeth and some of the kids from her class!

Check out their Peace Corps board in the back, you are so awesome ET!

I also got to present my mom with a gift from my host mom... she did this embroidery by hand!  She may not know American/my mom's style very well, but you can't deny how sweet it is!  Oh, and don't you worry, if you want more, she says this is only the first part of the set... the tank cover and toilet paper holder and still on the way.  Lucky Mom!

So, it was amazing be home with my friends and family, craft beers, and brunch food, and thankfully I left feeling very reassured by the love and support around me, and ready to return to Peru.  And it was strange how I felt like I was returning "home."  I talked to a Peruvian friend in Lima about this, especially about the difference between the order and disorder between the US and Peru.  During my time in the States I was so struck by how orderly everything and everyone was.  The disorder in Peru is often a stressor for me, but at times it also feels liberating- when I'm flying down a highway in a van from the 1980s, with 14 other people, 3 babies, a sack of guinea pigs, and a few buckets of fish crammed in there with me, blaring cumbia music, the chaos of Peru sometimes feels just right.  As my Peruvian friend in Lima said, there is order in the disorder.

So, in honor of this lovely, disorderly country that I have come to claim as my own, here is a list I have been working on, things that I love about my life in Peru (in no particular order):

• Eating cake for breakfast is completely appropriate.
• We say “thank you” to each other and to God after each shared meal, and say excuse me before leaving a room.
• Long lunch hours that leave time for a nice nap.
• A mango always makes things better.
• During the “hora loca,” the midnight hour of every birthday or other party, everyone grabs hats, masks, whistles, confetti, and fake snow from a can, and dances around in a circle to electronic music.
• Family parties are the best parties, especially when an abuela (Grandma) is hazing me to drink more beer and an abuelo wants to dance cumbia with me.
• Everyone from 9 months old to 90 years old dances at family parties, and none the men are ashamed to show how much they love dancing.
• My morning runs take me through the dirt paths to the caseríos (rural communities), with cows and chacras (crop fields) in the landscape.
• People tell me that I am super flaquita (skinny).   They also occasionally call me caderona (big-hipped), but whatever, at least I hold my weight there instead of my stomach?
• I have beach time, mountain camping, rainforest adventures, and ancient ruin explorations all within a bus-ride distance.  I really think Peru is a contender for coolest country in the world.
• I often see the town women chatting in the plaza holding a live turkey, chicken, or duck upside down, held by the feet.
• Fried plátanos (plantains), fried eggs, and picarrones (fried dough).
• I have time, in theory, to read- even though I usually end up choosing to Facebook, gChat, or watch a TV show.
• I have an endless source of TV shows, movies, and music through the external drive system that is quite popular among Volunteers.
• Whenever I’m having a terrible day or am feeling pessimistic, someone is always there as an example of all the amazingly good people I have around me- my host family, friends in site, other Volunteers, and friends and family in the States.
• I love the way people say “Kimberly” in Spanish (KEEM-bearrr-lee), and how often I get to hear it screamed across the street or park, as someone gives me a cheerful wave.  (I go by “Kimberly” here because people know the name because of “Kimberly Clark” and a brand of paper, whereas “Kim” sounds a lot like “Quien,” which means “who,” which can get very confusing.)   
• Everyone leaves their doors open to the street, so it feels like one big family when conocidos (people I know) walk by the house or I walk by their house.
• Fresh passion fruit or papaya juice with breakfast and lunch.
• I love my friends in site, which are mostly women between 16 and 50 years old.  And I am constantly amazed by the support they give me personally and in my projects.  And I love the moments when I can feel the cultural-language barrier between us break completely.
• My fellow Volunteers are so, so inspirational.  Peace Corps Volunteers are a group of people with incredible energy, integrity, intelligence, sincerity, and heart.
• Peruvians love always being around other people, talking (even if it's about nothing), and just enjoying each other's company. 
• I am constantly challenged.  I push myself to express myself more intelligently in Spanish, to make a better "sell" for why someone should participate in my project, to get better at the culturally necessary "schmoozing" and relationship-building before asking for anything work-related, and to wake up and do it all over again.
• Lastly, I love these faces.

My host nephews, who visit from Chiclayo every Sunday, for family lunch and mangoes on the stoop.

My life is not always romantic and fun, there are absolutely times where a dark cloud is cast over this entire country and everyone who lives here... but, as another Peace Corps Volunteer put it, "when you are feeling down, just remember to go outside and let [Peru] save you."

Thank you to my family and friends, who also, in a very important way, "saved" me this past week.  You all give me the strength and support to believe I can do this for two years.  I love and thank you!

Water

I'm baaaaaack!  As always seems to be the case recently, a lot has happened since my last post.  I am happily moved in with my new host family, and most noteworthy I JUST GOT BACK FROM VISITING THE UNITED STATES.  It was a glorious, incredibly wonderful and comfortable week.  I want to get immediately to talk about my trip home and my return, but first I'd like to cover a topic I've been meaning to blog about for the last month.

I assume most of my readers are in cities or towns in the United States.  Next time it rains in whatever city you are in, take note of where all that water goes.  Notice that the streets are paved with a slight bump in the middle, so that the water flows to the sides, downhill, into a gutter, drain, or some other system.  Maybe you live in a suburban area where houses are built on hills, and storm water collects in pre-planned  retention ponds or other environmental solutions.  Also, take note of the fact that when it rains, it only rains outside your house.

Now imagine you are in a place where roads have no angle to manage the water, and there are no gutters or drains.  The water goes wherever the lowest point is.  Also imagine that your house doesn't have a cement roof, only sheets of metal and plastic, if you are lucky.  Your neighbors have no roof in some parts, and in others have only tree stalks meant to give shade.  If you're lucky, you live on a paved road, and your doorway is above a sidewalk.  If you're not lucky, a lot of rain will turn your dirt road into a mudpit that feels a lot like quicksand, and your house (made of dried mud bricks) may flood.  Also imagine that your livelihood is agriculture, and your land happens to be the closest to the riverbank.  With a sudden, unexpected rain, all of your crops are now underwater.

Yes, this is what it's like when it rains in Monsefú.  You may remember me complaining about living in the desert and how it only rains 4 days a year, but it turns out that might not be exactly true.  Truth is a very relative thing here.  Some tell me the amount of rain we've had recently qualifies this as an El Niño year, and others tell me this is completely normal.  Whatever the case is, the entire city infrastructure operates on the assumption that it is never going to rain.  When it does rain, EVERYTHING is cancelled.  As if it was a snowstorm.  And I'm not talking about, like, hurricane rain, I mean a completely normal shower at most.  Everyone in my town is terrified of rain, and so far have been given the following reasons: 1) you will fall and slip  2) you will get sick  3) you won't be able to cross any of the roads, and 4) since the streets are more deserted, the thieves are more active.

So, now that you have a basic idea of what the attitude towards rain is here, imagine you are in a 3-Day Girls Camp.  You are a 14 year-old Peruvian girl, spending your first night ever away from your family.  You are at a recreation center with 50 other Peruvian girls and 20 American volunteers, and you are sleeping in a tent outside.  It begins to rain, and rain hard- you wake up to find yourself and all of your belongings soaked, and you look up to find a gaping hole in the top of the tent where a rain cover should have been.

Yes, this was our ALMA Camp, a leadership and health-focused camp that we held February 8, 9, 10, and some of you donated to (thank you!!!).  In the middle of our first night sleeping in tents out on the lawn of a recreation center, it began to rain, and really rain this time.  Those who didn't have rain covers on their tents (almost everyone) evacuated inside, and slept on the cement floor or on a few couches.  I was lucky (and lazy) enough to be sleeping in the middle of a tent that did have a rain cover, so once we got that cover correctly attached, I was able to more-or-less sleep for a few hours.  I could go into way more detail with this ridiculous story, but basically the girls were initially scared but eventually looked back on it and a crazy, fun, bonding experience.

Me with Nataly, Fátima, and Leidy, three amazing ALMA girls

Lastly, on the topic of water, Carnavales has just ended in Peru.  Basically during the entire month of February, in most cities in Peru (and other Latin countries including Brazil), you have to be on the lookout for water balloons, water buckets, and other worse things (paint, wine, etc.) that kids (and adults) will try to attack you with.  Most people in my town are normally conscious enough to avoid calling me "gringa" (white girl) to my face, but all bets have been off this month.  Girls are the usual target in my town, and being white makes me that much more fun to attack.  Fortunately/unfortunately I have been traveling a lot recently so have only been attacked a few times- the first time my former host-brother and I were riding our newly fixed bikes when we got attacked with water balloons from behind.  I ducked and he got hit, which he found incredibly unfair, since he is neither American nor white (as if I deserve it more??).  The second time was with my youth entrepreneurship summer camp, a group of about 12 of us girls (2 volunteers and 10 girls) got ambushed by a group of chivolos ("boys," literally means little goats) with water balloons, buckets, and bottles.  A mom was helping them fill the balloons back up while my girls were screaming at the top of their lungs and hiding inside stores, when I decided to see what happens if I reversed the power on them and sprinted directly at one of the boys filling a balloon.  What ensued was one of my favorite moments so far in site, as all the girls started cheering me on, the boy's expression totally changed as he started running away, and then he eventually realized what had happened and turned back around to squirt me with what was left in the balloon.

Zach getting some revenge at ALMA

We also had some Carnavales fun at Camp ALMA, which I mostly avoided, but you can see above.  I wish I had more time to describe the awesomeness of Camp ALMA, but these blogs are getting a little unmanageable as it is!  If you want to read and see pictures from the real Carnavales in Peru, check out my friend Amanda's blog: http://amandagoespc.blogspot.com/  She along with seemingly all of Peace Corps Peru went to an area called Cajamarca while I was in the States, and there they enjoyed the biggest Carnaval celebration in the country.

That's all for now, next update coming very soon regarding my visit to the USA!

Fungus, Fleas, and Rats, plus $h*t my (old) Host Dad Says

Hellooooo, it's been a while!  Sorry for the delay in updates, January has been a crazy month for me.  Since that title is kind of alarming, let me go ahead and explain myself before jumping in to other things.

Fungus: Since before my post about "Dust," I've had issues with itchy, irritated skin on my face.  My and my doctor's best guess was that it was a new manifestation of my eczema, but its characteristics are now convincing me and my new host family (to be explained) that it is a fairly common fungus you can get from dirty water or other things.  I have faint white patches on my forehead and right cheek.  My suspicion is that is has to do with the fact that all my daily greeting "cheek kisses" are on my right cheek.  I'm applying anti-fungal cream and setting up a dermatologist visit.

Summer in coastal Peru, my legs are constellations of flea and mosquito bites

Fleas: I have (hopefully, had) fleas for the fourth time.  I don't know how the buggers got into my bed in the first place, but I have been battling them for a while with Clorox and bug-spray baths.  They really got me this time, but with my change of host families I have hopefully left them behind.  However, I have a fear that my little friends hitch-hiked in my clothes, so I am praying that I don't bring them into my new house.  You know you're a dirty Peace Corps Volunteer when you're afraid that you are going to give fleas to the house dog.

I'll save the rats for later in this post.

So, about that host family change.  On January 9th, my Regional Coordinator came from a site visit and in conversations with my host family it was decided that I should look for a new place to live.  Essentially, my host Dad is approaching 70 and is too old for all of the house chores he does while my host mom works, which includes all of the cooking, cleaning, and most of the clothes-washing.  Before my arrival, on days that he was tired he would not cook and eat in the market, but with me there he felt very obligated to cook, no matter how many times I told him that I could take care of myself.  This situation was stressing him out, and although this part wasn't discussed, I felt that he and my host mom were taking their stress (from their jobs, chores, and age) out on me.  So, the basic story is that my host Dad might take a month-long vacation in Lima and that is why I moved, but the situation had been more complicated than that for a long time.  As my host brother said, "my parents have kind of difficult characters."

But, as I hope you have gleaned from my post, I loved the characters of my first family very much, because when it was good it was really good.  I had been accumulating a list of great quotes from my host Dad, who is from another time, generation, and world.  Here we go:

On “la gringa loca” (me):

“For the love of God, please sit down when you eat.  The only people who eat standing up are soldiers, and I don’t like having soldiers in my house.”

“I’m going to call Obama and ask him to send his best doctor, nurse, psychologist, and sociologist to evaluate this case I have in my house… what! What! I didn’t say Kim!”

Me: (Explaining why one of the census measurements makes no sense…)

Dad: Agucho, is there money left on the phone?

Brother: On the landline? Yeah, why?

Dad: So that I can call the INEI (National Institute of Statistics and Information) to have this fixed!  I can’t believe it!  It doesn’t make sense to Kim so they must correct this right away!

On food:

"Of course you got sick, look at how much you eat! You are always eating. You eat like a cuy (guinea pig). Every moment I look over, you are working with your hand in food. From now on I'm going to call you la cuy instead of Kim!" ..and then he did an impression that you have already seen in this video

On religion and life:

(Talking about Popes John Paul and Benedict) “Yeah, they were buddies, they went drinking together, went to the brothel together… HAHAHA oh, how wonderful it is to make jokes.  Can you imagine what life would be like without jokes?  Life is so much better when you have fun.”

On visitors:

(after installing a intercom-doorbell system)

Dad (to visitor): “Who is it?..... from what institution? … ah, yes, well, he left for Chiclayo, he won’t be back until later… yes, later… okay thank you.”

Dad: (to me): “HAHA what an idiot! You think Agustín Tesen isn’t here and you’re talking to him!  I love this machine!” (scurries off to the kitchen giggling)

On bathroom jokes:

(As we’re eating mangoes)

Dad: *in a fit of giggles* Can you imagine what a party would be like if instead of chicken, duck, or turkey we served mangoes… and chicha?!  Hahahahaha!!! (Chicha is a fermented corn alcoholic drink)

Me: Huh? You went to a party were they served mangoes and chicha?

Dad: Noooo can you imagine how funny it would be?! Pure fruit! We’d just serve fruit!

Me: …. Um, sure, yeah that’s be funny…

Dad: *still giggling* Ohhhhh man, those fruits run right through you!

Me: Ohhhh, now I get it!

Dad: *cracking up* All of the guests would be running to the bathroom at the same time!! Ahahaha *bathroom noises*  Excuse me one second!! *mimics pulling down his pants and squatting, more bathroom noises*

On taxes:

Me: So what percentage of the population do you think pays taxes?

Dad: Who pays taxes? Idiots pay taxes.

Hanging out with my host Dad while he makes a cape for a
well known Miraculous Cross, on my last night in the house

When things were good, this man was my favorite part of my first 5 months in site.  As I mentioned in another post, he was one of 24 children in a family where only about 16 lived past infancy.  His stories of his life, that he shared with me during lunch or while working on his embroidered banners and religious pieces, often led me to feel transported into another world, one where Peace Corps Volunteers don't have wireless internet or cell phones.  I will miss those talks dearly, but hopefully I will get to have some more with him when I visit now and then.

I will keep in touch with my old host family, especially through my host brother, who has been a very, very, very good friend to me from the beginning.  He definitely inherited his Dad's ridiculous sense of humor.  Here's a taste of our conversation over Facebook today, discussing my upcoming trip to visit the States (!!!):

Agucho: Are there thieves in the United States?

My first host family, on my host mom's birthday

Kim: Yeah, of course in some parts.  Why do you ask?

Agucho: So that I can contract one to bring me a touch phone.

(later...)

Agucho: Could you bring me a “snike”?

Me: A what?  Nike sneakers?

Agucho: No, a snake. A live one. Like your brother in the States has.

Me: HAHAHA no!

Agucho: You can bring it hidden in your purse!

Oh, what a family.

So, I arrived at my new set-up by mentioning my need to a friend who invited me to eat lunch with her family.  She immediately suggested her in-laws, and after I went to visit them, it turned out I had met the Dad already because he is a teacher in one of the public high schools.  I remembered him because he told me that an American volunteer was in Monsefú about 50 years ago, and that the volunteer had a youth group called Cuerpo de Paz (who knows if that's right) that he was a part of, where he learned to raise pigs.  So basically, my new host Dad thinks he was in the Peace Corps.  Works for me!  I also have an awesome host mom (sub-director of an elementary school) and 26 year-old host sister.  My host parents were high school sweethearts here in Monsefú, got married while they were in university, and have three adult kids.  I have a significant extended host family here in Monsefú and across Perú, all of whom are awesome and seem to visit quite often.  I have four host nieces and nephews, all small and adorable- Daniela is almost 6 and the oldest, and she is the girl dancing at the top of my blog (those viewing in email, click the links at the beginning to view this on the web).  I am very happy with this new, very easy-going family :)

But there is one little part I left out.  The rat(s).  Two days ago, when I was getting ready to move in, I was visiting my new family when the house dog started going crazy, scratching up the wall and barking at a gap in the ceiling.  My host mom said it must be a cat, but I knew that cat is code for probably-rat.  After moving in and hearing a few more noises come from that part of the ceiling (down the hallway from my room), I did a quick inspection and decided I didn't need to worry about them getting in.  Last night, I was repeatedly woken up for a period of at least an hour by the unmistakable sound of loud rat squeeling-screetching-whatever-you-call-it.  I imagine that would have freaked me out pretty bad in the United States, but somehow I was able shrug it off and get back to sleep.  Today my family moved around some pieces of the roof and my host dad says he saw the rat scurry across the wall into the abandoned area where it probably came from.

So you may have guessed my new host family is slightly more humble than my previous family, but for me that makes my living experience so much better (rats and all).  An easy-going, modest family cannot be over-appreciated.  And by some miracle I again have internet (although my laptop refuses to connect), so yeah, the developing world is pretty interesting these days.  

January was crazy not only with my host family change, but also with a week of Early In-Service Training and a lot of work activities.  I have definitely been keeping busy and happy.  Hopefully I'll get a chance soon to describe some of the projects I'm working on this summer, and if not on this blog, IN PERSON when I visit the States February 15-22!!

Wishing you all a happy, rat-free night!

Sounds in Site

I put together a little video blog about the sounds that infiltrate my daily life in Monsefú.  Hope you enjoy!  I'm traveling 6 hours north tomorrow to Máncora, the most touristy beach in Perú, where I will be spending New Years with other volunteer friends.  Happy New Year everybody, can't wait to see what 2012 has in store for us!

Counting My Blessings

First, I would like to start off this blog with a clip from one of my favorite movies of all time, White Christmas.  When I was a little girl, I fell in love with this movie during the Christmas season and ended up watching it year round.  Looking back, I think this movie is where my love for dance started.  This here is my favorite non-dance scene.

(to those viewing this blog post as an email, click on the grey "Perusing PCV" text at the top to view this on the web with the videos).

Like the song says, I am counting my blessings this year.  I had some strong bouts of homesickness, similar to my birthday and Thanksgiving, but overall Christmas has been great here, even with the lack of snow and Christmas sweaters.  But hey, it legitimately RAINED last night, it's a Christmas miracle!  My brother ran out of the house to twirl around in it.  I guess this is like a coastal Peruvian White Christmas?

So, some things about Christmas are the same here, and some are really different.  Christmas trees are common and Santa comes here too, still as a big fat white guy with blue eyes and a huge red coat, even though it's summer and he's called Papa Noel.  But he's not as omnipresent here as he is in the States, it's a lot more about baby Jesus.  And presents aren't as big of a deal as they are in the States.  Kids still get presents, but only one or a few depending on the family (if they can afford any).  Most adults don't exchange presents, although my host family got me an adorable huge teddy bear.  I laughed pretty hard, but thought it was kind of perfect at the same time.  It gets pretty lonely up on the second floor sometimes!

Christmas is celebrated at midnight, centered around two things: 1) the nativity scene and 2) dinner.  Every family, office, etc. has a nativity scene, with the classic Mary and Joseph, 3 wise men, etc. but some also add random animal figurines... chickens, cows, etc.  Earlier this month I was distracted in the local charity's office when I noticed a T-Rex in their nativity scene.  I laughed pretty hard and pointed it out, thinking that someone had put it there as a joke, but the guy I was with didn't get what was funny.  Oh dear.

The nativity scene in the Principal Park of Monsefú... no dinosaurs in this one.

Anyway, my host family's nativity scene was a lot more like that one I grew up with, just a small set of figurines on a table.  But there is one thing that is different here, that the baby Jesus isn't put into the scene until midnight on Christmas Eve.  So my host family joined hands, said Our Father and Hail Mary prayers, and my host mom gave me the honor of placing the baby Jesus into the scene.  Then we passed over to the dinner table and had a beautiful, delicious dinner of turkey, peas, and empanadas.  Everyone was in really great spirits and it is definitely a memory with my host family that I will cherish.

So that's essentially all of the family Christmas activities, along with house visits from other family members and lots of phone calls.  But I still haven't described one of the main parts of Christmas in Peru... CHOCOLATADAS.

The word means "chocolate party" because all the kids who attend receive hot chocolate along with panetón (sweet bread with raisins and fake fruit in it) and probably some garbanzo beans and an empanada.  The hot chocolate part doesn't make a lot of sense because it's summer here, but the tradition must have started a long time ago to imitate some American or European tradition.  There's also usually a lot of dancing and payasos (clowns) to get the kids tired before they give out the food. So the chocolatada involves not only food, but also each kid getting a toy (a little truck or gun for boys, and dolls for girls).  Now, this part is pretty complicated.  A lot of the kids and parents who attend are not shy about trying to hide the toys they have already received in order to get more for themselves or relatives.  For example, if there is a line, the kid or mother will get back in line (or completely ignore the line) and pretend they didn't get anything yet.  Various systems have been created to prevent this, for example only giving presents to kids who have tickets and then ripping up the tickets after the present has been given, but people are really, really, insistent.  I don't know what else I can say about this topic, except that for a poor family here, toys are a big deal and there is a different cultural attitude towards hand-outs, where a lot of people feel very entitled to them, or they feel that they have to fight to get their fair share.  Coming from a different world, it is hard for me to deal with this part of the chocolatadas, when mothers are begging or screaming at me and others to give them more presents.  Of course, for every mother or child that acts shamelessly, there are other mothers and children who quietly wait their turn and tell me honestly if they've already received a present.

To date, I have participated in seven chocolatadas of all shapes and sizes (have an 8th scheduled for the 28th), three of which were more like sit-down dinners for adults (senior citizens, artisans, and ex-combatants in the Battle of 1941 with Ecuador).  The ones for kids ranged from about 40 kids to ... 3,000.  The huge one was organized by the Municipality, and they actually had a pretty interesting system to avoid the double-gifting.

All of the presents and holiday baskets in the Municipality

Panetones take over the Mayor's office

As you'll be able to see in the video below, thousands of people lined up during the chocolatada dancing activities to get a good spot.  After the dancing ended, the doors to the central market were opened just enough to let people in one by one, and with the help of the police, we were able to usher people into various lines around the counters of the market.  It got a little more disorderly once the market started filling up, but the idea was that everyone would be brought into the market, all the doors would be closed,  the toy-and-panetón giving would begin at various stations, and those who had received would be ushered directly out a different door.  One way in, one way out, so that people couldn't get back in line... kind of an enormous fire hazard, considering that the market has been declared structurally unsound, but hey.  It generally worked pretty well, although there were still plenty of people begging and screaming at the doors.  When it was finally over (3 hours later), we realized that the staff and volunteers were stuck inside, because all the doors were occupied with people screaming at the mayor to open the doors and give them presents.  We took to hiding in the back office and once it calmed down enough outside, a staff member slipped out to bring some soda and a few panetones to us.  It turned into a really great memory for me, sitting on a counter, laughing and talking with the mayor and some of the people who have become my friends here.

Some of the staff and volunteers after finishing the enormous chocolatada; Edgard, Jesus, and Bridgette in the middle

Subtracting the stress and chaos that comes with the chocolatadas, I've had a lot of fun helping out at these events.  I generally took the role of body guard to those handing out the presents, since I'm taller and foreign, I guess people listen to me!  Each event was a way for me to share some Christmas time with the people that are important to me here... the artisans, the Municipality staff, the teenage Señorita and Cholo Fexticum, the leader of an outlying town, and the women's committee.  Another favorite memory of this Christmas season was after a dinner in the Municipality, when all the guests left the cumbia music was turned up and the mayor, regidores (like a Board of Directors), and women's committee shared a dance together- it happened to be to my favorite cumbia song, so everyone had a great laugh when I started belting out the words.

Having a great time with the mayor, regidores, and women's comittee

I dearly, dearly miss a lot of things at home during this holiday.  It has been even harder than my birthday or Thanksgiving.  But I am counting my blessings, todas mis bendiciones.  I have the best job in the world, and feel very privileged to be granted such an opportunity to travel, learn, and share.  I have a very colorful host family that teaches me new things every day, and I have grown much closer to my host mom during this Christmas.  I have internet access and am able to stay in touch with family and friends at home.  I have friends in Monsefú who really look out for me and I am finally feeling at home here.  And I am happy, healthy, and safe.  And I feel that I am growing into a much stronger person.

My biggest blessing of all is you, my family and friends.  I want to sincerely thank you for your support in whatever way it has been, through email, gChat, Skype, Facebook, blog comments, care packages, or prayers.  To my parents, godparents, aunts, uncle, and other family and friends, I hope you know that it makes so much of a difference to know that my loved ones are thinking about me at home.  I am very blessed to have such wonderful family and friends.  MERRY CHRISTMAS and bring it on, 2012!!

Dust, Appearances, and Womanhood

As another volunteer said in her blog, it is becoming harder and harder to know what to write about, because many aspects of my life feel so normal and uninteresting, or I forget what might be interesting to someone in the United States.  So here are three topics have almost nothing to do with each other, except that they are all topics very basic to my life here:

This is how much dust I picked up in my somewhat-weekly
room sweep.

Dust.  

My life here is a dusty one.  I live in eternal, rainless summer (except for the rare el Niño years).  My trip to Chachapoyas was the first time I had seen and heard real rain in 5 months.  So in Monsefú, between the desert-like climate, the proximity to the ocean, and the constant piles of construction materials in the streets (rocks, cement mix, sand), there are a lot of particles whipping around in the air, finding its way into everything.  My eyes, my nose, my mouth, my electronics, my food, etc.  My family sweeps the inside of the house twice a day, attempting to battle Mother Nature who wants to place a brown film over every surface.  When I am outside of the house, I have learned to walk with my eyes almost always half-squinted, less a wind picks up and smacks me in the face with 100-year old dust from the deconstructed adobe house I am passing.  My sensitive, eczema-ravaged skin is not happy with me; I've developed some itchy, dry patches and every few weeks, my eyelids rebel against the abuse and swell up.  The floor of my room is uneven, unfinished cement so I seem to generate more dust that I am get rid of when I attempt to clean.  In order to clean a dusty area, you first have to splash water all over the place to keep from creating unbreathable clouds when you sweep.  Many people also try to help the situation by throwing their dirty water outside on the street or other dusty areas.  Opinions are divided on whether this actually improves the situation or not, since we are then always subject to walk through dirty puddles.

Appearances.

People observe and comment on many aspects of each other's appearances.  And the comments are very far from what the US considers politically correct.  There's a totally different treatment of the topic of weight here, so people are completely honest with each other when it appears that someone has lost or gained weight.  I actually appreciate this part of the culture, because considering the amount of rice I am eating on a daily basis, I want to know if my host family thinks I've gained significant weight.  But some of the comments are just jaw-dropping.  For example, one of my favorite people in Monsefú is a 25-year old woman named Evelyn, who has a beautiful singing voice and is very involved in the Catholic Church.  She also happens to be very significantly overweight.  A few months back, I went to a sit-down party for the priest's birthday.  At the end, everyone grabbed the balloons off the wall to pop with their hands, in a symphony of loud cracks (Peruvians love explosions and loud noises, a topic for another day).  When all the balloons were gone, another church-helper yelled, "Wait, there's one more balloon to pop!! and ran over to grab Evelyn around the waist.  I couldn't really read Evelyn's expression to see if she enjoyed the joke or not, but everyone else found this hilarious, including Padre Alfonso.  

Here are Chino and Nacho, two popular Venezuelan
Reggaeton singers.  Chino is on the right.

Race is also treated very differently here.  Someone whose eyes are slightly slanted is nicknamed "Chino," even if he is clearly Peruvian with no resemblance to an Asian.  My host dad, who you may remember from the video is fairly dark-skinned, considers himself black and any time that someone makes a comment about something being dark or black, he says "Sin insultas!" to jokingly imply that we are insulting him.  In both childhood and adulthood his nickname has been Negro.  He and my host brother also make some pretty shocking commentary while watching black soccer players, saying things like "Ohmigod, where did he go?? He's so dark that I can only see his eyes and teeth, haha!"

I've had a few conversations with Peruvians about how these topics are treated differently in the United States, especially about the Chino thing... I say "you know, not all Asian people are Chinese, so shouldn't we say Asiático?" and the response I have gotten multiple times is "Oh, no, I don't call him Chino because he looks Chinese, but because his eyes are Chino" (while pulling on the corners of their eyes!!)  I then of course cringe and say that gesture is considered really offensive in the United States, which just gets a response of laughter, "Really?! Well it's not here!"

Members of one of the artisan associations in town

Womanhood.

In most families and place in the provinces of Peru, gender roles are very clearly defined.  This of course means that women generally do all of the cooking and cleaning in the house.  As a result, I can't plan any meeting with artisans until 4pm or after, because all of the artisans that have families are too busy preparing and cleaning up lunch before that.  It also means that many artisan groups depend on having soltera (single) women members, who can go to fairs and other events that involve traveling.  Some husbands blatantly won't let their wives travel for fairs, or married women will say that they just "can't" leave the house, because what would their family do for lunch?

Being a young gringa woman here definitely attracts plenty of unwanted attention, and I am not just talking about piropos (cat-calls).  The harassment here is a whole other level than I have experienced in Spain or elsewhere- it involves a lot of whistling but also HISSING, LIP-SMACKING, and disgusting sexual faces and comments.  It's all completely cowardly, because they do it once your back is turned or right in the moment you are passing them, so that it's too late to react.  I try my best to preempt the harassment, by making direct eye contact without a hint of a smile and giving a very stern "Buenos días." That usually works, at least in my site.

A mototaxi stop is right in front of my house, so everytime I cross the street I have to pass a group of 4-6 young guys, who used to make lots of comments at me.  I knew this was not something I could accept for two years, so one day I had had enough, and I turned back around and asked them each what their names were.  They all hid their faces and only told me their nicknames, and I told them that I'm living here and I find it really disrespectful when they make noises at me like that.  We had a brief conversation about how they didn't mean to be disrespectful and just wanted to tell me how beautiful I am.  Right.  But it's been a bit better since then.  They still giggle when I pass, but they don't say anything to make me mad.

The worst of the sexual faces, sounds, and comments seem to happen in Chiclayo.  I can usually tolerate it or at least choke down my desire chase them down and punch them in the face, but every once in a while I lose it, like this weekend.  First it was the old man (around 70), smacking his mouth at me and making comments as I passed him on the street.  It really made my skin crawl, so I was already bottling that up when I crossed through a park with 3 other girl volunteers, and a 16ish year old boy on a bench starting commenting on how delicious we were.  I whipped around to face him and he just about jumped out of his pants.  He bolted off the bench and started walking away before realized how cowardly that looked, so he turned back around and scratched his head, looking quite unsure of himself.  I ask him how old he was (no answer), and told him that was really rude, and he mumbled an apology.  I felt great, until we passed back through the park, and from the other end of the park, he and two friends were whistling at us and screaming "HELLO! HELLO!"  You just can't win.  Sometimes (most times) confronting it makes it worse.

I've become much more acutely aware of my female-ness here in Peru, because of the ways I  and other women are treated.  I've been indirectly told that I muddled in men's affairs.  I've also been told that women are more domestically abusive than men.  Dealing with these kind of things as a Peruvian woman  (not to mention the actual physical and verbal domestic abuse that is rampant) explains why a lot of independent women are so fierce about their feminism here... the younger generations of girls are growing up in (hopefully) a world that gives them more power to express their opinions and decide their own futures, but it's still a very unequal situation they live in.  For my experience here, the positive outcome is that I am learning to embrace or understand the girl-power sort of stuff that I avoided in the United States.


I meant to write about a fourth topic in this post, religion, but I think this has turned out to be long enough already, so I'll save that for later.  I hope my readers don't find this blog too depressing or negative, while these aren't super fun parts of my daily life, these things don't get me down that much because I've grown accustomed to them.  I also think Peru is also making my sense of humor much more dark and sarcastic... I'll try to be a little more cheery in my Christmas post!  Miss you, family and friends.

Community Integration, Stage 1: Complete.

I'm starting to think that Peace Corps service is just one big series of "Moments of Truth."  We used the phrase "moment of truth" in Pre-Service Training during our Field-Based week, it's the way I felt in my first meeting with the artisans, and it's how I felt last Tuesday, when I presented my Community Diagnostic.

Every Peace Corps Volunteer is required to complete said Diagnostic, which is basically a way of organizing everything you have learned about your community in your first 3 months, based on surveys, interviews, and other activities with as many different groups as you can get to know.  I am super sick of describing it so I'll leave it at that.  The last two weeks I've been promoting this meeting on the radio and handing out (on foot, with a little bit of help) 70 official invitations to the artisan associations, directors of the high schools and Instituto, and other authorities and friends.  The people I expected to show up did, and the others did not; overall, I had about 40 people there, including the mayor and 2 other Peace Corps Volunteers.

The basic idea of the presentation is to give the community an opportunity to reflect on their current issues and how they can be solved.  I presented some of my ideas, most of which have been brought up by monsefuanos before (which is a good thing!).  What I mean is that there was already a lot of community support for these ideas, and they just haven't been achieved (for a number of political or whatever other kind of reasons).  My basic recommendations and things I will be working towards are:

• Formation of an Artisan Council (called a COLOFAR, could receive funding from the Municipality) to represent and organize programming for all associated and independent artisans
• Formation of a Tourism Committee, that represents the artisans, restaurants, recreation centers, and people involved in FEXTICUM (our big cultural festival every July)
• Computer classes for artisans, assisting them in internet promotion & researching new designs
• Productive activities with young people: summer camps, career and university panels, making sure all the hours of the school day are used to the fullest
• The Municipality needs to take big steps to promote tourism/culture/artisanry in Monsefú before it's too late (before all the artisans disappear and other sites gain notoriety)... I said that my dream would be to see this building below, the old Municipality building, turned into a "living culture" museum and open artisan workshop, where the artisans can work, sell, and give trainings.

The old Municipality building is the one with balconies, just to the left of the "Mercado Central Monsefú"

When I said this, the artisans bust into applause, which was a really cool moment for me (As you might have guessed, they have wanted this for a long time).  At the end of the presentation, the mayor gave a few words, and she went into more details about her plans for the museum/"living culture" workshop.  She basically said she is ready to support this project too and that a sufficient budget is already set aside, but the issue is the contract with the restaurant that rents out the bottom (You can see the open door in the picture).  She said we will work on putting together a list of signatures of everyone who supports this project, so that we might be able to convince the renter to break the contract sooner.  Anyway, overall this was very encouraging.  Rita (our mayor) stayed after to talk with one of the most educated and smart people in Monsefú, a young professor friend of mine, more about the museum, and hopefully his awesome ideas and my willingness to help will combine to make this idea a reality!

At the beginning when I was explaining Peace Corps, I used the quote from President Kennedy's Inauguration, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country."  I brought it full circle at the end of the meeting, and asked everyone to write down one goal for this year, one thing they can do for the benefit of Monsefú.  They wrote these goals on papers in the shapes of flowers, because Monsefú is known as the "Eternal City of Flowers"... and everyone always jokes "and where are the flowers?" because our town is pretty desert-ish like the rest of the coast.  Well... here are the flowers!  Some of the people were more into it than others, but hey, it looks pretty.

The weeks leading up to this presentation were exhausting, but they were also some of the best yet that I've had in site.  Things felt markedly different as I was preparing for this presentation- mostly notably, people were stepping up (in small ways) to help me... I don't want to sound too negative here but basically it is often like pulling teeth to get anything out of my Municipality, as people would rather pelotearme (punt me around like a soccer ball) than actually do work.  But it seems that my time spent in the Tourism and Public Relations office has finally paid off, as they actively helped set up my presentation (computer, projector, speakers) without me asking.  

I finally felt like I had people watching out for me this week.  Especially two people, Saida and Jackie.  Saida is the Tourism person in the Municipality who has verrry slowly warmed up to me, but it finally feels like we are friends.  A while back when we were handing out invitations together she slipped her arm in mine to walk linked together (seemingly all Peruvian girl/women friends do this), and this past week we sat in her office and has a really good chat about motherhood... which I know so much about, right?  Anyway, it was great.  

And Jackie, oh Jackie.  This woman fell from heaven about a month ago.  She has an artisan craft store that was seemingly never open because she was traveling, so we only met recently, and ohhh what I have been missing.  She is almost single-handedly setting up a Christmas Dinner that all associated and independent artisans are invited to, which I think is the most amazing thing we could do to bring unity to the different groups.  She is super Christian so has a very powerful way of talking about unity, sharing, love, etc. and over the last few weeks of planning has become a great friend to me.  She invited me to go to her Protestant church last Sunday and then to eat lunch with her sister's family, which was really special.  More to come about the church stuff in a later post.  And she went out of her way to help me solve my chair-quantity-crisis the day and hours before my presentation.

Anyway, a number of conversations and events this past week made me feel like I've finally gained a significant level of trust and understanding with some people.  I didn't really realize before what I was missing, but now that I have it, it feels so much better.  I could definitely use a lot more help and support, but for now- Community Integration, Stage 1: Complete.