A Year of Yes: From Hollywood to Chocta

Back in September a fellow PCV in Peru wrote a really great blog about the importance of saying yes during our service. Here’s a link to that blog: read it! http://humandenominator.com/the-power-of-yes/, And as I was browsing books on my Kindle the other month, I saw one titled “A Year of Yes” with great reviews so I bought it and just finished reading it! It’s a really great book, very funny, light and yet thought provoking. Ya’ll you should read it too! It is written by the brilliant, hilarious, famous TV writer, Shonda Rhimes. She wrote Greys Anatomy and is writing Scandal now. It’s about her deciding to change her life after finding herself antisocial, overweight and unhappy. She decides to say yes to everything that is asked of her for an entire year.

Initially I wasn’t sure how this book would relate to me and my life at this point because Shonda writes about saying yes to making a speech at Dartmouth College, attending big fancy dinners for powerful women in entertainment, speaking on Jimmy Kimmel. She’s a women who through her TV shows breaks down racial and other minority’s barriers. She’s a mom. That doesn’t sound very similar to the life of a recent college grad who’s volunteering two years in an 800 person village in norther Peru picking potatoes and giving health education in broken Spanish. But it turns out, besides me laughing out loud loads of time, I found myself relating to a lot of what she writes and being able to use and apply some of the ideas in there.

Pretty much every chapter is themed in something she is now saying yes to. For example, yes to the whole truth, yes to her body, yes to people, yes to difficult conversations, and yes to “dancing it out” (which is what her favorite character, Christina Yang, and Meredith Grey do in Grey’s Anatomy if anyone out there catches that). I’m going to write reflections on my favorite chapters.

Yes to the question “wanna play?” Shonda wrote this about saying yes to her kids when they asked that to make sure she was always making time for them. Obvi don’t have kids. (Although you all wouldn’t know for sure, seeing as I’ve been gone almost long enough to have had 2 secret pregnancies! Hehe weird joke, sorry). But she talks about saying yes to 15 minutes of uninterrupted play time. Which could be indulging in some personal pampering time, reading a book, painting, all without being distracted or on your cell phone. For me it’s a trip to Chachapoyas to eat a pizza or have a drink with another English speaking American. It’s about loving yourself enough to give you that “me time” and not feeling guilty about it. Cause we work, we live better when we’re happier and we’re happier when we play.

Yes to Compliments. Shonda decided to accept compliments with a “Thank you” instead of an “oh no, really I’m not all that.” She talked about how negating someone’s compliment is like telling them they’re wrong, wasted their time, and in fact it’s insulting them. And you don’t appear cocky like some may think, but confident, and confident people are attractive. We are all great. I’m great. Sometimes I feel guilty about my successes and opportunities. Getting into a great college while others didn’t. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer while others can’t. But the thing is, I work hard. Those things aren’t given to one without cost. So when someone says I’m so amazing for doing when I’m doing, I’m gonna appreciate it without feeling guilty, but feeling proud and thankful that someone reached out and showed me that kindness. And vice a versa. We should compliment more. How often do we think something nice about someone, like his hair looks nice, or she gave a really good presentation. We shouldn’t be afraid to tell them so. A compliment makes people feel good. Do it. Whoever is reading this back home, you are amazing and caring and important to me because you are thinking of me when I’m not there. And don’t insult me by saying you aren’t all that great, because, really, you are.

Saying yes to no. This was an interesting chapter. What came out of it more was saying yes to yourself. Saying yes to me. Growing up, I remember my mom telling me, after finding out I agreed to something I didn’t want to do, “you’re too nice, you need to learn to say no.” She was absolutely right. No is not only extremely power, it is extremely important. If you’re offered drugs say yes to you and no to the joint. If a stranger comes up to you in a white van and offers candy, say yes to you and not to the creeper. If you’ve been drinking and are begged by friends to drive them home, say yes to you and no to your phony friends. If you are a truly self-aware person, you can make those decisions with ease. I may not have been self-aware or very self-confident as a teenager. But all this time out here being alone with myself and my thoughts sure makes me both of those things!

Yes to more year of yes. Shonda says although her year is up, she felt so good that she won’t go back to how she was before, in fact she can’t. No is no longer in her vocabulary. This is true for Peace Corps Service. After being so open minded to trying new things as we do daily for two years, and seeing the immense benefits, how can a person leave their service and not be like that forever? We are changing and will be changed for the long haul. We have become people who can overcome obstacles and defeat after defeat, people who understand that we can’t understand others if we don’t understand where they came from, people who want the world to be more connected, people who say yes.

Teaching English as a Community Health Volunteer, as a Nurse

Even though it’s always highly requested from our communities, a lot of volunteers avoid teaching English as a secondary project because it’s easy to get trapped into teaching a lot more than planned on, because it’s something that everyone wants to learn and wants you to teach them. I also thought I would avoid getting sucked into it, but upon arriving here last year I did Summer school English classes because it was an easy theme with where my level of Spanish was at, and the principle of the school really wanted it for the kids. And it was an awesome experience, it tremendously helped my Spanish skills, taught me about maintaining a classroom, making lesson plans, and allowed me to get to know the community. So because I enjoyed it and was begged to keep teaching once school started, I did. Every Monday during this last school year I had my English class in the elementary school. Whenever I had time I made my way to the high school to help their English teacher (who speaks maybe 2 words with terrible pronunciation) with his classes. But because that was the first thing I did, and something I continued doing, everyone in town immediately pegged me for the English teacher. Even after explanations of my main work during town meetings, after constantly correcting people when they introduce me as “profesora”, after explaining my background over and over again, after people seeing me work with the health post, and after participating in my health educational sessions, people still think I’m just the English teacher. It’s something I’ve corrected the whole year I’ve been here and I’m sure I will have to continue in the year ahead. Because on top of my health promotion, I do teach English. So I can see why people resort to saying I’m the English teacher when asked by outsiders what a gringa is doing in Chocta. It’s easiest for them to cognize and simplest to explain. If I’m not in the health post doing check-ups and giving vaccines, how can I be a nurse, right?

And as a nurse, with a bachelor’s degree in nursing science from a really great university, with 100s of hours of clinical experience, it was sometimes hard to swallow that everyone saw me as an English teacher.  I’m proud to say I’m a nurse and want to be recognized as such. So at first, I kind of regretted teaching so much English. As my service goes on, however, I realize the value in teaching English more and more.

Peace Corps has three goals: 1. Bring technical assistance to host countries to promote sustainable social and economic development and human capacity, 2. Promote friendship and understanding of the US culture to the host country, and 3. Bring an understanding of the host country’s culture to the people of United States. One goal focuses on the technical assistance we bring, and two of the three goals are cultural exchange. People here want to learn about the United States, they want to learn about me, they want to learn about my language. And when I tell them about my country, my hometown, my family, they are intrigued and leave a little more worldly, a little more aware, with their minds a little more open. And when I spend time with their kids teaching English and the kids show off at home naming their foods and greeting their grandma in a language she never had the opportunity to be exposed to, they are proud that their child is being cultured  and hopeful for their future with this admirable skill. And when people from out of town are told I’m here to teach English and thank me with complete sincerity for coming all this way to use my time and skills to make a difference in the lives of children, I don’t bother correct them and say I’m actually here for a different reason and English is just a side job.

 I hope babies will grow taller and teenagers will practice safe sex because of the technical assistance I’ve brought. I also hope this random, wonderful village in the mountains of northern Peru will have a better understanding of the people from the United States because of the knowledge I’ve shared with them and friendship I’ve shown them.

me with some students at the end of the year:))

Trip with my parents!

Last week I spent probably my best two weeks since coming to Peru! I started out leaving Amazonas on a Friday and after a 24 hour ride arrive in Lima on Saturday morning. My parents weren’t expected to arrive until Sunday at 6am so I called a friend from Chocta who had recently moved to Lima and spent the afternoon with her. We ate ceviche but mostly just hung out in her house as I was tired from the long bus ride. In the morning I got into a taxi for the airport where the travel agency my parents had used had sent a person, Carmen, to meet us. We chatted in Spanish until the flight arrived and we switched to English for my parents. From the airport we went to our hotel where they took a nap and I used some incredibly fast internet (even in the capital city of Amazonas you never find internet like they have in Lima, those lucky ducks). After the old man and lady were rested, we went walking to eat lunch and shop. That first lunch of ceviche, soups, and salad was our first indication that the food in this city would be one of our favorite parts of Lima. We went out for dinner later for delectable meat and potato dishes. The next day was more of the same, eating and shopping, then eating some more. We marveled at how cheap food was even at fancy restaurants where we felt way underdressed. Our last day in Lima was, appropriately, a “food adventure.” We had a chef take us to a local market and then teach us how to prepare a Peruvian cocktail (Pisco sour) and three typical Peruvian food dishes: ceviche (fish cooked with lime, red onion, pepers), papa causa (mashed potatoes with avocado, olives, tomato), and loma saltada (beef sautéed with pepers and tomato).

The next leg of the trip was in Cusco, an hour flight from Lima. We arrived in the early morning and our guide for the next few days took us to the hotel. We showered and rested and then were off for a city tour. We learned about how to tell if the textiles sold everywhere in Cusco were “baby alpaca” which just means the first shear of the alpaca, or “adult alpaca” any other shear, which isn’t as nice and soft. We went to a gorgeous view point of the city and then walked around stopping in churches and museums. I loved Cusco! It’s almost all stone cobbled, the streets as well as the buildings, keeping true to the mysterious Incan culture. Our guide was very passionate as he had spent many years studying the Incans. The next day he took us to the Sacred Valley tour. We first stopped at a house where a few traditionally dressed women explained how they prepare, dye, and weave their gorgeous alpaca textiles. Then we stopped at a salt mine. This is pretty much a huge chunk of mountain fitted with little shallow pools of salt water that are fill up from a streaming salt water lake. Then we went to crop circles which were used by the Incans to gradually accustom desired crops from the jungle to the highland climate. That’s when we started to believe that that Incans were aliens with special powers because these structures were impressive if built with modern tools, however no tools besides simple picks and hammers were ever found. We ended our day in a cool town called Ollantaytambo where our bus for Machu Picchu would leave in the morning. And at 6 in the morning we headed off to one of the Word Wonders. After 2 hour train ride and a 30 min bus ride, we were there (along with a thousand other tourist from all over the world). It was quite cool to hear all the different languages and see the variety of people crawling all over the Incan ruins. The ruins seemed so randomly plopped in the midst of vast, steep, thickly forested mountains. We walked around with our tour guide who was an expert, having lived in Machu Picchu for a year studying every rock and structure looking for answers he never really found. After lunch we walked up to a view point about an hour and a half up from the base. From there we could see the main ruins as well as other structures up and down the mountain ranges indicating that maybe the city was A LOT bigger than it appears now. We headed back to catch our 4pm train that took us back to the city of Cusco. Back in our hotel we ate light room serviced dinner and then slept like babies.

The third and final leg was up in my neck of the woods, AMAZONAS! But between us and this northern region of Peru stood two flights and an overnight bus ride over the unpredictable roads of Amazonas region. We had a few hours to kill in Chiclayo where we met our guide for the next 4 days. Mister Oscar didn’t take a breath talking at us for those few hours, and as we’d find out, wouldn’t be taking a breath from speaking for the next four days. And on the bus ride we of course ended up getting stuck in a minor land slide. In our essentially seamless trip so far I was not surprised we’d have at least one bump in the road, or in this case, mud in the road (hardy har har). So after the 12 hour instead of 8 hour bus ride my parents were a bit cranky, or mostly just caffeine deprived as we arrived to Chachapoyas. After unnecessary difficulties we got our coffee ordered, put food in our bellies, and felt 100 percent better. I called a friend who lives in Chachapoyas and told her we were now in Amazonas. She told me “now the real adventure starts”. It’s so true. After Lima and Cusco, heavy tourist populated areas where everyone knows how to cater to foreigners, Amazonas travel would be a bit different. Only the most adventurous of travelers (as some call them hippies and backpackers) make their way up here to the north. We handled a landslide already and I knew we’d be facing long drives on unpaved roads, no English speakers, unreliable hot water and wifi, and food that just can’t keep up with Lima/Cusco’s standards; but I had faith my parents would be just fine, and more, enjoy themselves in this region that I, for now, call my home.

That first day was low key as we visited a famous ceramic maker, went to an outlook of the valley, then to an outlook of the city, and after walked around the streets of Chachapoyas. Although Oscar sometimes made you want to scream, if we were able to listen and not tune out his seemingly endless babbling, he taught us some really cool things about Chachapoyas that I didn’t know after living here for a year. We ate at a restaurant where Dad tried guinea pig and they learned that service isn’t the same as in Cusco as in even the nicest restaurants in Chachapoyas. The next day we headed to Kuelap, “the Machu Picchu of the north” or as we call Machu Picchu, “The Kuelap of the South.” That’s a huge ruin from the Chachapoyan people who were later conquered by the Incans. We had a nice lunch of “cecina,” dried meat which is a famous and common dish in Amazonas, but my parents joked about how we ate beef jerky for lunch. At least they appreciated the view from the table we ate at! Later that day we did some shopping, getting some last minute things before we had to pack up, as it’d be our second and last night in Chachapoyas. In the morning mom woke up with a cold, just like Grandma, her mom did for our last few days in Peru. She didn’t know if she’d be able to do the waterfall hike on our agenda as we headed off to the town of Cocochimba, I think it’s called. From this town you can see the Gocta Falls, “the Third Tallest Waterfall in the World.” They only recently built a path to the waterfall in 2006 because all the locals thought it was haunted. But once they went and measured its height, it became a huge thing and the town got suddenly rich and busy off of tourism. It was a beautiful day and the falls were calling to her, so mom pulled herself together and we started out on the 2 hour walk to the base of Gocta. This was an incredibly beautiful hike through lush green jungle but on a clear and easy to walk path. It poured rain only as we were eating a packed lunch under a roof, and cleared up for us as we were ready to leave. This whole trip we could not have asked for better luck with the weather. Every time we arrived to a new place they’d tell us we just missed a rainstorm and when we left it’d start to rain again! After the hike we rested at the beautiful hotel where “every room has a view of the waterfall”, and we slept our best sleep, showered our best shower, and ate our best free breakfast of the trip.

Waking up that morning, we headed off to Luya, and from there, Chocta! I’d been waiting for this day for so long and now it was here! In Luya it was market day and a bunch of my friends from Chocta were there. I introduced a few to mom and dad and mostly enjoyed the stares from everyone. After a brief tour of Luya we headed straight up the tomb site of Karajia, only passing through Chocta. As mom and dad fell silent, I prayed that the driver would drive more smoothly on the terrible roads up to Karajia. Because I had done the hike to Karajia probably more than 10 times by now, a few times in sandals, many times in jeans, I forgot that it is actually kind of a hard hike, straight down and back up. So I made it seem easy and my parents were underprepared in their jeans and without water as, of course, it was sunny and clear. But they made it with just minor complaints and we were off to Chocta to meet the host family. The first hour, consisted of mostly my host family marveling at the height of my dad. The kids couldn’t keep from cracking up as Dad crouched through their doors, dodged laundry lines, and filled up the bed he laid down in. We ate huge plates of freshly slaughtered-just- for-us-pork and rice. Then we sat outside entertaining all the little boys that followed us around. Afterwards we went up to the plaza where I introduced mom and dad to a few friends and we showed them the two schools, health post, and played a bit of soccer at the soccer field. Afterwards we came back to the house and ate dinner. Afterwards my parents gave my host family presents. Rosary beads for my host parents, a picture book, and a framed picture of Jesus to hang in their room. I’m glad I gave Mom the religious hint because those gifts were such a hit! We prepared for bed, Dad looking like a giant in a tiny bed and Mom in bed with me.

In the morning we made coffee using the last three of my Starbucks instant coffee singles. A friend invited us for breakfast and my parents learned how much they eat in the mornings and how sweet they like their coffee and tea in Chocta. Afterwards we met the high school teachers and then visited the elementary school where we ended up spending a good couple hours. We were invited to a sweet milk drink (mom had me secretly drink hers) and chatted with the principle. The kids swarmed us clinging to my mom and gawking and laughing at my dad as I frantically translated questions and answers. When we finally got free of the children we visited my host sister in law, Bremi, whose baby Marlleli is my god-daughter. After drinking more tea and bananas my parents learned about how you’re constantly invited almost forcefully to food in Chocta. Then we went down to the house where lunch was almost ready. As dad rested and mom played with Marlleli I made an agreement with my host mom that I’d plate the food to save my parents from having to stuff themselves again. During lunch in hushed Spanish (as if my parents would understand anything) Bremi and my host mom asked if we’d be ok with cutting Marlleli’s hair after lunch. Although I’ve never actually been to a “first hair cut party” I knew it was a big deal and agreed it’d be fun for my parents to be here for it. So the kids ran off to gather more family members and my host brothers bought a case of beer. Marlleli sat so calm as I chopped of a lot more hair than I intended. My host mom instructed mom and dad to cut a few pieces too. Then she made a speech about how since I am her granddaughter’s godmother we are co-padres (like co-parents) and since Mom and Dad are my parents she’s also copadres with them (if that makes sense). Now I can see why half the town goes around calling each other copadre and comadre. And now she always asks me “have you talked to my copadre? How is my comadre?” It’s actually really sweet. Anyways, after the hair was cut, we went out front and took tons of pictures and drank some more beer. I was nice and buzzed when our private taxi rolled up to take us to Chachapoyas where we said goodbye as they got on their night bus to Chiclayo to catch a flight to the Galapagos. I left the bus station to look for a hotel room for the night feeling a tad more homesick than I’d felt before the visit, but also refreshed and thankful for the trip of a lifetime we had just spent together. 

Life Changes

Since I last blogged, I have had two major life changes. The first is that I have two new friends here in Chocta! Two teachers were hired a few weeks ago and they are renting rooms here in town (unlike most teachers who comute from Luya or Lamud). The first reason it is really good is that they are my age! It has been nice hanging out with women who arent teenagers or old ladies. Two, they are single and happy. I dont have to explain why I am still single or why I am currently not looking for a boyfriend or feel awkward as the only 20-something without a child. The gossip and dating stories is fun too. Three, they arent from Chocta. I love the people here but conversation with people who have never left this little town gets old. With these girls, we can talk about going out, what restauants are good, where weve been and where we plan on going. And lastly, they like to work out! We have been jogging and exercising at the concrete soccer field almost every morning for the last 2 weeks and I feel great. People dont think I am so weird when they see that Peruvians also like to work out! So at my year mark, Ive had a little refreshment to my life in Chocta.

Second life change: I am now cooking my own breakfasts and lunches and only eating dinners with the host family. I have been wanting to do this for a while, but the bottom line is that i have been lazy. Even if the food is pure potatoes and rice, you cant beat someone cooking for you! Shopping for groceries is not an easy one stop at Safeway, and making lunch is not as simple as pulling lunch meats from my fridge and making a sándwich! But the lack of variety finally got to me, and Ive been busier and cant always wait for whenever the food will be ready. Ive been cooking since the start of October and love it. My host mom almost cried when I told her and it took them a while to get used to it. They kept asking me to eat. They get the message now and I told my host mom a white lie that it isnt because i dont like her food, its that i want more Independence and to learn to cook! And i do like the food, i just cant eat it every meal every day. Ive been eating lentils, meat, veggies and fruit everyday and its amazing. I have plenty of money to buy those things with the money i used to pay the family to feed me rice and potatoes. But its not their fault. They like their diet, its what theyve always eaten. And when there isnt money for everyone to eat meat itd be awkward if they cooked it just for me. So I found a solution and Im very happy with it. I still get to spend time with them at dinner time when I get my daily dose of potato soup!!

My breakfasts before and now :))
On the left my rice and potato soup with a hard boild egg and on the right oatmeal with banana and raisons

Santa Rosa

I mentioned before that every city and town has their own patron saint. Well this past week we celebrated Saint Rose (Santa Rosa) in Chocta. I thought it was a funny coincidence that I was also born in Santa Rosa. Funny how things like that happen! Anyways it was a fun filled week where no one worked. My host dad said the fiestas is the work. An engineer with whom I am working with, came to survey materials that he had brought. I accompanied him to the plaza where we asked to see the materials. They flipped out and soon half the town that was in the plaza had grouped around us demanding why we would come during fiestas and that he needs to come back in 4 days when the fiestas are over. Wow. This week of fiestas is no nonsence!

Starting Monday vendors came and set up their tents in the plaza. Tons of clothes, shoes, house supplies, you name it. Also a few carnival type games and 5 or 6 cantinas where you could buy salchi pollo (fried chicken with french-fries) but more importantly beer. These tents were full of people all day and into the nights/ early mornings! People came from all over Amazonas! It was funny to get weird looks again after being so well known here for the past 6 months. The majority of people kept an even buzz throughout the week, including myself. I was constantly offered chicha (refreshing, not strong thank goodness) and food from the “party committee” the whole week. My host mom said it is because I collaborated in all of their fundraisers.

Monday and Tuesday were just “novenas,” or gatherings in the church to tell the history of Saint Rose and pray to her. Afterwards, the institutions (the schools, health post, me, etc.) would take turns serving coffee and bread. These went on for 8 nights. Wednesday night was the “Reinado,” or the beauty pageant. And yes, I participated as one of the candidates. It was super fun! The community members had a blast dressing me up like their doll and teaching me how to walk. TJ came to support me and we had tons of laughs. But, al fin, I lost. Unfortunately the winner was the person who had raised the most money and I only ended up with just under 100 soles (35 bucks). The winner supposedly put down 1,820 soles, which is incredibly hard to believe but that’s what they tell me! One of the judges/ high school teachers told me I had won with points and my question response. I was confused why they tallied points and had judges if in the end they just need to count up the cash! But after a few tears, I left with good memories and laughs. From Wednesday on, the winner of the beauty pageant became the Reina, or the Queen of the fiesta and had to accompany the band that arrived Thursday afternoon wherever they went.

Thursday was scheduled to have a tournament of womens soccer and mens volleyball between the neighborhoods. But in the end no one coordinated. (surprise surprise) In the night there was a festival of dance at the high school. Professional dancers came to perform, and I was very impressed! Each grade of the elementary school also put on a typical dance. I especially loved the costumes that the dancers wore from long skirts for the marinera to tribal outfits for a jungle themed dance!

Friday we hosted elementary and high schools from the area to play in a volleyball and soccer tournament. That was fun and I even joined in on a few bets on the teams. I lost 6 soles ($2) betting on Chocta to win, but it made the games more exciting and the crowd more animated. How they loved taking my money!! Friday night was my turn to bring coffee and bread to the novena and also to put on a movie. Unfortunately the band was also playing that night so most people were dancing and drinking and only a few came to watch my movie (the biblical story of the creation of the world). But it is all good, I am used to that by now ;).

Saturday was eventful! It started off with my host family hosting the breakfast for the band at 5am! We woke up at 3am to start cooking and preparing the house. They came, ate, we danced, and then were gone by 8am. It also was the tournament of volleyball and soccer between adults of the surrounding areas. That was fun. Tons of people united at our soccer/ volleyball court including vendors selling food, sweets, and tons of beer. The band came and I danced of course. I am quite famous for loving to dance. But it is true! I love dancing to cumbia! Plus its so cold here lately you have to dance to keep warm! Later that night TJ and Hilary arrived spend the night. The band played some more in the plaza and we danced some more. We burned the castle of fireworks like the one in Luya but smaller. Then everyone headed over to the high school where Besito SENSUAL (yes, “sensual kisses”) was performing a consert. So much fun! The blacktop was packed with people dancing their bahokis off even when it started to rain! The group was super interactive and Hilary and I even got a dance with them on stage for a bit. I love . cumbia groups because they will have a line of dancers (always with tight pants, usually white or a bright color) in the front with the singers. “Gracias a las bonitas gringitas” they said as we left.

Sunday we slept in until 9:30 then went to a mass followed by a parade. After that TJ and I hung out with our friend who works in the health post in Cohechan. We danced a bit, had lunch… I tried to sneak in a nap but my friend Shaka found me and pulled me out to the plaza. Once the sun went down the kids brought out these really cool lit up lanterns they had made. The designs ranged from geometric shapes to horses, to a model of the high school. Really beautiful! We paraded through Chocta and ended in the plaza where I was unexpectedly elected to judge which one was best. The winner (the high school) won 30 soles. After that, we danced some more with the band and then called it a night.

Finally Monday, the last day, was the cutting down of the Humisha (a tree). The person who cut it last year needs to bring all the food that was under it back and provide lunch for the whole town and pay the band for that day. He brought the food but unfortunately no lunch nor band. Everyone was very upset that he “ruined the fiesta,” but in the end got over it. A new person cut down the tree and took the food under it with him, to return next August. Without the band, I went to a friend’s house to take a nap (so no one would find me) and went out again at night to dance one last time.

Tuesday I was in bed almost all day. I had come down with a cold and generally just really exhausted from the week. When I was reading in bed around 7pm, a member of the party committee came down and invited us to a dinner. And I thought it was all over! But all the vendors and out-of-towners had left and only a handful of people were invited to this dinner. It was quiet and peaceful, and we all agreed that although the fiestas were fun, it is nice to have our town back. 

Camping in Huaylla Belen

So I went on quite an interesting “camping trip” the other weekend. The 4^th graders of the high school in Chocta (who are only 14 because of the different school systems) have been bugging me since I got here to go to Huaylla Belen with them. Huaylla Belen is a famous (in Amazonas) valley with a serpentine river running through it. They convinced me this is the best time to go as there’s less rain (ha!) so we organized, got a teacher on board, packed our bags, and headed out.

            I really didn’t know what to expect but trusted the group of six 14 year olds and a teacher that we’d have a place to sleep and we only need to bring blankets and food. With backpacks stuffed with pots, Tupperware, rice, spaghetti, etc. we got a ride to the river where the “abandoned house we can sleep in” was waiting. When I saw the house from a far, it looked so adorable and peaceful in a beautifully green valley, feet away from the river, like from a fairytale! I got a jolt of excitement, “I can’t believe we’re going to staying here!” Getting closer, it wasn’t’ exactly snow white’s cottage, but it wasn’t terrible. It had a big room with a row of beds and a second little room that looked like it could be the kitchen. We tried to figure out how we’d enter the room with the beds for a few minutes, but then another group arrived with guys who clearly had stayed here before, and jumped into a hole in the roof and came down in the next room to open the door for us. After that, another group of two fishermen showed up. Once it was dark and we had our fire going and freshly caught fish (thanks to the boys) sizzling, another group of 3 tourists arrived. It was kinda cool to meet and chat with different people and even cooler that we were able to trade our spaghetti for the their delicious cecina (dried meat, like beef jerky).

            I had sat in smoke from the campfire too long and went to sleep with a pounding headache and clogged sinuses, regretting I didn’t bring any ibuprofen. I hardly slept on the wooden bed and knew the kids weren’t sleeping cause they were talking, not even in hushed voices, all night long. But when the sun came up, the boys headed out to the river with their fishing nets to catch some breakfast! Yes, we ate fresh trout and either rice or noodles for every meal out there! The boys hardly stopped fishing that day, only taking a break from the water to eat. The girls kept busy cooking, cleaning the dishes, swimming, and playing volleyball. I tried to help cook, but there were all ready too many cooks in the kitchen and these girls are experts that I didn’t even try after the first night. Just enjoyed the day and let the young ones catch fish and cook for me!

            

Complaining of the cold, they decided we’d walk to one of the kid’s godfather’s houses to sleep this time. It was just an hour walk away and towards the way home, so the next morning it’d be quicker getting back home, they convinced me. (The hour part was a lie as I should’ve known by now!) So we packed up our stuff, bid the other visitors goodbye, and headed out. Not 10 minutes in, it began to drizzle. Then pour. Not to mention we were wading through the river every 5 minutes. Sometimes we’d cross at our ankles, but mostly we were crossing up to our thighs, and after it rained for a good half hour, we were crossing a strong rushing river up to our waists, hands linked. I was soaked to the bone but was more focused on not loosing any of the kids, none of who could swim. (In reality, they were much more comfortable with the walk than I was!) I also was super worried about my backpack that weighed a ton pulling me down or my iphone getting wet (easily my most valued possession here). More than once I’d stepped up out of the water to feel the ground giving way due to how much I weighed soaking wet with a 10 pound backpack. It was scary, but the kids were in good spirits and I just kept putting one foot after another distracting myself with my thoughts.

            I mostly thought about how, when I compared these kids to 14 year olds at home, they just seemed years older and way more mature. Why was that? I thought about the weekend we were spending together and realized it’s for a few reasons. Number one, they can do things I can’t. Such as catch and gut fishes, or start a fire in seconds without batting an eye. I chuckled to myself when I try to picture my cousin Max gutting a fish with the ease these kids have. Number two, life on a farm naturally gives one more responsibility and therefore maturity. I wasn’t moving two huge bulls down the street to tie them down in another pasture by myself at 8 years old, but these guys were. I want to raise my kids like that. Not that I wasn’t raised with responsibilities too (make the bed, empty the dishwasher), but there’s something about growing up having to take care of livestock that really builds character! And the third reason these 14 year olds seem years older than those at home, they freaking took care of me that weekend. Not just cooking and fishing for me, but making sure I was okay walking, offering to help carry things for me, making sure I was warm enough, rotating my pants as they dried by the fire. I think it’s silly that my cousin Madison, or Hailey, even Cierra, (and definitely not Taylor) would take care of me like that. I’m the older cousin; I look out for them, not the other way around. For those reasons, its so darn hard for me to tell ages here!

            Finally after walking miles through the valley, it stopped raining and we began going up. And when I say going up, I mean basically climbing straight up a cliff. It was STEEP. Like leading forward on all fours grabbing at shrubbery. Like I couldn’t look down without a lurch in my stomach at the seemingly vertical drop. I preferred crossing the river in the rain! But finally we got to the top where there was a flat clearing with a herd of very interested cows and a shack. Okay, I thought, no way. This is incredible, and the view is taking my breath away, but you’re joking if were supposed to sleep in a falling apart shack surrounded by cows! But no, they weren’t joking. And I just took in the view of the valley below, told myself I was on an adventure, it was one night, and swallowed my tears. Until I looked in my backpack and realized I had exactly zero articles of clothing that were dry. And I wasn’t alone. Hardly any of us had clothes that had survived the rain storm or weren’t the clothes we had swam in earlier that day.  So we were on the top of a mountain with the clouds settling in, the wind very present, the sun nowhere to be found, and no dry clothes. I wrapped myself in my sleeping bag as the girls started a fire and began hanging clothes by it. Despite the situation, we chatted and laughed as Neilit make a delicious hard candy for us from just sugar, water, and a little lime. Then they cooked, we ate, and the seven of us were all snuggled in a bed of hay (literally) by 8pm. In my sleeping bag with only a half dried t-shirt and damp pants, I shivered through the night thankful for the warm bodies on either side of me, my only salvation. I kept my head covered so I wouldn’t feel the wind that blew through the stacks of wood you could hardly call walls. I prayed for sunrise and could’ve cried every time I looked at my watch and it was only 10. Then 10:40. Then 11. Etc. But the sun did rise. I did survive to tell the tale.

            After breakfast, we headed down and up and down and up up up mountain ranges. I may have survived that night, but there’s no way I’m surviving this walk, I thought. Last summer, almost exactly a year ago, I made it to the top of Half Dome in Yosemite. And I won’t say that my feet hurt worse then they did on that last mile to Curry Village, or that a 15 hour walk was worse than a 3 hour one, but I was struggling! More probably, I told myself, from lack of sleep for two nights, and a 42 hour diet of rice, spaghetti, and fish. Plus, unlike on our walk to Half Dome, those kids were FAST and didn’t want to stop for anything. I don’t think they drink water, ever, so no reason for water breaks. They view? Forget it, we weren’t wasting time on photos. But eventually we made it to the road and followed a nice even downhill the rest of the way to civilization. About an hour walk from my warm, dry, bed we caught a ride in a truck and after one of the most testing weekends ever, I about fell asleep right there in the middle seat.

In-Service-Training

This past week, all of the Health Volunteers in my group met up for our last training! This time it was in a beautiful region called Ancash and we all brought counterparts to participate in the training with us. So it was very different from any of the other trainings we’ve done, and my favorite one because of that!

            Ancash is a really cool and different region from Amazonas. The culture is very true to the “olden days.” The women all wear beautiful poufy skirts and tall full brimmed hats. Their “mantas”, or shawls used for carrying everything from their babies to their groceries, were beautiful with amazing textures and bright colors. The women in my site have the same shawl things but are either black or navy blue. I wish I took a pict

ure; I’m kicking myself that I didn’t! The altitude is more than we have here, so when there’s sun it’s baking hot and at night it’s cold. I’m always comfortable in my jeans and sweatshirts here even when the suns out. There I was uncomfortably hot in a T-shirt. The sun was soo strong. The hostel we stayed in had a great view of Huascaran, a famous and beautiful snow-capped mountain. It’s a great region, I’m a little jealous of the volunteers who live there!

            This training was especially interesting because we spent it with Peruvian counterparts. It was fun to see them get really into what we were learning. All of them came out of it with a lot to take back from technical knowledge to confidence! Some had never left their homes before, so it was a real once in a lifetime experience that most really appreciated. Although, for some reason, our four Amazonian counterparts were quite divas! The four of them bonded through our long travel days and developed an “Amazonas is better” mindset. It was actually quite funny and us four volunteers had some good laughs talking about it after the fact! They complained about food the whole time, we didn’t have water the first day and they never got over it… One lady threatened to stop eating and another told me she’s “willing to suffer because that’s how we learn.” Mind you these women are from poor communities where they often go without water, work long days in the farms, and have limited variety in their food that they cook. They were NOT suffering in a nice hostel with a delicious and varied menu of meals provided for them every day. Oh and did I mention it was all free for them!?

We as volunteers got a kick out of it. It really puts “suffering” into perspective. For people who’ve never left home, they are used to their beds, their routines, and the same 3 meals they cook everyday, even if, to us, those conditions are not ideal. For them, doing something new and different out of their comfort zone is overwhelming. Unlike them, I was fortunate enough to travel a lot growing up. Seeing new and different places teaches you not just how to tolerate living in a new place and eating different food, but to enjoy it! I love going to new places and trying new things because, from experience, I’ve enjoyed them! That’s probably why I decided to join the Peace Corps ;)

Fiestas Patronales

In Peru, every city, town, community, sometimes even neighborhood, has a patron saint. When it’s that saint’s feast day, they town celebrates for a week, called Fiestas Patronales. We’ve discovered Peruvians love to party and will take advantage of any reason to do so. My Aunt Karey also noted that their celebrations are hardly one family celbrating in the house; it always involves the whole community and is often out in the town plaza. I feel like that’s mostly true. If they’re going to celebrate something, they’re going to do it big! So this past week Cohechan (a neighboring town on the way down to Luya) and Luya had their fiestas because they have the same patron saint. They had sports, food festivals, battles of the bands, etc. for a week. Wednesday was the “central day of party” for both towns but Luya is bigger so I planned to go to Luya for that day. A lot of people in Chocta were planning on spending Tuesday night in Cohechan for a celebration of fireworks so I decided I’d do that too and call it good for my first experience of Fiestas Patronales.

Tuesday night was super fun. I walked 45 minutes down to Cohechan because by the time my host brother and I were ready to go there weren’t any cars. But we met up with a lady and her daughter and walked down together. When we got there we just saw the plaza full of people but no music or dancing. There was, however, a huge frame of a 10 story tower which they called “el Castillo” or “the castle,” which would be later lit on fire. So I found a friend, as did Elder (my host bro), and we split up agreeing to meet up again after the fireworks. Around 9:30pm a band came walking into the plaza and played while some people dance. A friend from Luya was there and we danced a couple times. Meanwhile, 5 or 6 huge hot air lanterns were lit and let go into the sky. They were each probably 7 ft tall and pretty wide. Then at 10:30ish someone came over to light the castle and I sat up close with some kids from Chocta to get a good view. BAM! sparklers come flying dangerously close to us and we all scream, stand up, and run to a safer spot. It was so cool! Each layer of the castle had spinning sparklers that lit one by one up until the top layer where the words “Municipalidad de Cohechan” lit up. Afterwards came fireworks in the sky that appeared way closer than any firework I’d ever seen. It literally felt like the sparks from the fireworks were going to fall on you and I definitely flinched and ducked a few times. As the show ended, a huge crowd of Chocta people start heading for the road. I join them as the crowd thins out from people hoping in cars or walking different speeds. A couple minutes in, an old lady offers me some hard liquor to  “warm my body for the walk” and just as I take the shot, a big livestock truck pulls up full of people. But there’s lots of room so all of us on the street pile in and stand like cattle in this truck as it makes it’s way back to Chocta.

The next morning, I shower and head down to Luya. The plaza is decorated and full of people at 10 in the morning. But first I head to Austin’s house to meet his mom, Cris, who was visiting from the US. She’s such a cool lady, older but really fit, grew up in the Bay Area, loves wine. Kinda reminded me a bit of my Aunt Katrine! The three of us head out to meet up with TJ who is already in the plaza preparing to go into the assembly in the Municipalidad. We meet up and find a place in the assembly hall. There are tons of speeches, music, and food is served complete with a typical way to sweet Peruvian wine. But then we get served Chica which is nice and tasty.

After lunch, we’re told to go home and change into typical Peruvian outfits and come back in an hour for the parade. I was unprepared but luckily Austin’s host mom had clothes for me and her brother was there and very enthusiastic about dressing me up! All the details we covered, from the sandal to the hat and braids. I felt (and looked ) like an old Peruvian lady. The boys got ready too and the three of us (with our photographer, Austin’s host uncle) headed to the plaza. While we stood around waiting for the parade to start, people were staring at us hard core. Multiple people came up and asked for a picture with us. A man even gave me his baby to hold as he took my picture. It was crazy! They loved us! Or thought we looked ridiculous, either way it was hilarious. We realize we should have a sign so we run to the elementary school and borrow a poster and some markers and whip up an ugly sign but does the job saying Cuerpo de Paz (Peace Corps)- Peru. We finally find the municipality people who are standing in the front of the mass of people we assume to be the parade. They have their Municipality sign and are facing a street lined on either side with people. We go up to them and they push us in front of them. We try to protest without luck and we find ourselves to be leading the parade, all eyes on us. An announcer announces us and calls for music. I guess we walk now? We start walking down the street lined with people but no one follows us. So we continue walking and as the crowds cheer, we really start to feel it. We start dancing and waving and the crowd gets louder. I look back- still no ones following. We are alone strutting down this never-ending catwalk. We do a spin- more cheers. Finally we get to the end of the street and the crowd. We wonder if we keep going but then the Municipality people start walking and we decide to wait for them. They tell us that’s it. That’s the end. We hang out and watch as groups of people take their turns walking. Story of our lives: We never seem to know what’s going on at first but we’ve become experts at going with the flow.

I go back to Austin’s house to change and by that time Sabrina, the volunteer in Molinopampa and my best girlfriend here, shows up. We have some coffee (with a splash of Irish Whiskey thanks to Cris) and chat. Then we walk to Austin’s host family’s garden to pick some veggies. Sabrina and I decide to go visit TJ so she can see his house. We of course get invited to a delicious meal and hang out for a bit. Around 8 we head back to Austin’s house where they’re all getting ready to go to someone’s house to dance. We go to this house to find a band playing and tons of people dancing. We join in for a few songs and are served more than a few glasses of Chica. All of a sudden everyone, including the band, leaves and a drunk guy with a huge belly grabs Sabrina’s and my arm and we start to skip down the street with the group. All the people from the party are following the band, arms linked, dancing, skipping, spinning, laughing. It was super fun! We arrive at the plaza and enter the assembly room where we continue to skip around in a huge circle with our arms linked. Finally the band stops playing and we take a second to strip our sweatshirts and scarves. Then the dancing starts right back up, but this time in the normal way with a partner.

After a few hours, we go outside to watch a castle of fireworks just like in Cohechan. Then we head back to Austin’s house to regroup a bit and drop of the older people we were with who couldn’t hang. Then the four volunteers, Austin’s host uncle, and TJ’s host sister head over to the big in-door sports arena where the bands “Fiestas Norteñas” and Robert Pacheco were performing. There we continued to dance till our feet bled.

The next morning I hung out with Austin and Cris for a bit and then headed back to Chocta where I took a much needed nap. Not bad for my first Fiestas Patronales. I can’t wait for August when we have ours in Chocta!

First Visit From Home

Last week my Grandma and Aunt Karey came to see me! It was so nice having them here. They were traveling in Cusco seeing Machu Picchu while I was in Training and then we met up north in Tarapoto. We all cried at the airport a bit and the guy from the hotel who came to pick us up was very concerned… We spent the afternoon in the jungle town eating Chinese food, seeing a waterfall, and hanging out. They got to experience first hand the brutal honestly of Peruvians as our moto-taxi driver commented that I’m much fatter then them. I’m used to it, but it was fun to see them crack up. The next day at 6am we boarded a “combi,” the minivan sized cars that I’ve gotten used to traveling in, and headed to Chachapoyas. I knew it wouldn’t be the most comfortable ride, as I knew this week wouldn’t be a relaxing vacay but rather an exciting adventure! I also knew Grams and Aunt Karey could handle it. And they did, with just a few comments that almost, but didn’t quite, brake their rule of “no complaining.”

In Chachapoyas we walked around and shopped a bit. They got to meet another volunteer, Pari, who’s also from the Bay Area and happened to be in the same hotel as us. We had dinner in a restaurant/bakery next to our hotel that I knew had decent food with a menu translated in English. We ended up eating all three of our dinners there! After long days, it’s nice to go to a place we knew we’d like. The second day in Chachapoyas Grams’ cold/cough was pretty bad so she decided to join us for breakfast (at my favorite spot) but skip the excursion to Kuelap. Aunt Karey and I hopped on the tour bus as the only foreigners tagging along with a big Peruvian family. Although that meant a lot of speaking in Spanish, it also meant an invitation to homemade tamales. They didn’t know I spoke Spanish at first until I overheard one asking “do you think the gringas want a tamale?” Then I introduced myself and told them I am living here in Amazonas and they warmed up to us! However we split up from them when we got to the ruins to go with an English speaking tour guide who had a group of Europeans and a couple from the USA with him. This tour guide recognized me from when he passes through my community, Chocta, to get to Karajia, another touristic site. He even observed that on Sundays I like to play volleyball! (I was only slightly creeped out and actually a little flattered). He took a liking to Aunt Karey and me, always making sure we were paying attention and offering to take our picture. It was nice. By the time we got back to Chachapoyas it was dark and we discovered Grams had survived the day quenching her hunger with water and cough drops! SO we headed to our trusty restaurant and showed her the pictures from our day.

The next morning we all went to breakfast at my second favorite breakfast spot where I got my waffle and they got scrambled eggs. Our breakfasts and dinners in Chachapoyas were pleasant times in an otherwise crazy few days! After breakfast we headed to the bus stop to get a car to Luya, the bigger town I spend a lot of time in. I was reminded of how scary that car ride is! I remember thinking it was a crazy road when I first got to site, but honestly I had become so used to it I didn’t even think to warn Aunt Karey and Grandma. I chuckled as Aunt Karey took Grandma’s advice to “just close your eyes and it’ll be over soon.” They were such troopers. We walked around Luya a bit to know where I go to get internet and groceries. Then we got back into a car to head up to Chocta. Of course it wasn’t a straight shot to Chocta. The driver circled around Luya a bit looking for passengers; on the way we stopped twice to pile in more people, including a women with a ton of chickens. It was fun seeing my Grandma’s eyes get wider every time more people managed to squeeze in. Then we took a detour up to another community for a passenger. I kinda wanted an uneventful ride up the mountain but was kinda happy they got to see what I have to deal with.

Finally we arrived in Chocta! As we got out of the car my host nephew and god-daughter Marlleli ran up to us. I hadn’t been back in 2 weeks so it was exciting to see them but especially exciting to see them meet my family. Marlleli was shy at first but by the end of the day was chatting with Aunt Karey and holding my grandma’s hand. We walked down to my house taking pictures. We found my host mom and sister-in-law Bremie in the kitchen and my host mom greeted them with her adorable bear hug and Bremie with a shy hand shake. The kitchen was of course filled with smoke because they don’t use their improved cook stove if they’re cooking a lot of food. So I gave Grams and Aunt Karey a tour of the house while we waited for dinner to be ready and the smoke to calm down. Lunch was what I expected. Soup (that would’ve been fine by itself) followed by a heaping plate of potatoes, noodles, rice, and a piece of chicken. I warned my host mom multiple times that they don’t eat very much so just a small plate is good. But we discovered they don’t listen very well. Food is love and no matter what I said, they were going to feed us with an insane amount or else it’d seem like they didn’t like us at all. They were also crushed at that fact that Grams and Aunt Karey didn’t stay the night. But we were tired from the traveling and Grandma’s cold wasn’t any better. So before leaving, we did a brief walk around town to show them where I work and spend my time. As we were heading back to the house, one of my favorite families started waving and calling me over. One lady pulled out a bench for us to sit on as I introduced my family members and said I’m sorry we’re on our way out we can’t stay. They were so friendly and chatty calling my grandma and aunt señoritas because of how young they looked. I jokingly said they’re leaving in the morning and I’ll be alone again. One of the moms said “no you won’t, you’ll have us. Come over tomorrow, we’ll make Chicha (alcoholic bev.) and you can cry with us.” It was so sweet. I remember first being here and how shy everyone was: we’ve come such a long way! I’m sure it was nice for my family to see that I’m welcomed and taken care of here. I’m glad they got to see that in case there was any doubt!

That night we had dinner at the same place in Chacha and watched some US news Grams managed to find. Hours and hours on a white woman who claims to identify as black. I was amazed at the air time a story like that got, and figured the US must be doing well if that’s the only news there was! In the morning we went to the terminal together and I left them at the bus stop for Tarapoto as I went over to the bus stop for Luya. I wiped my teary eyes and chuckled to myself as Javier, the craziest combi driver we have, greeted me. Thank god he wasn’t driving yesterday, Grams or Aunt Karey would’ve had a panic attack for sure.

Thinking back, it’s bizarre to think they were here with me in my room, but in that moment it wasn’t weird at all. It felt totally normal to have people I love be here with me. I thought it’d be strange to have my two worlds collide but it wasn’t. Because in the end I’m the same person who has family and friends that love me and will always be a part of this experience no matter if they’re here with me or not. I’m not living a different life, Peru isn’t a different world, it’s just a slightly different living circumstance for a while.

Six months in Site- check!

Yesterday I officially completed 6 months in site!! 9 months away from home. I obviously miss my friends and family more than you know, but I wanted to write a list of not obvious things I also miss:

Our old blue couch

            Melinda bought this amazing couch our sophomore year that we used until senior year. It was so comfy and I seriously really miss sitting on it. No one has couches here. When we gather we sit on benches with really pretty knitted, but not very comfortable, cushions. Maybe it was the company as well but oh how my body longs to curl up on that blue couch and watch Parenthood with my main chicas.

Lamps

In my room there’s only one outlet that has one plug and it’s on the other side of the room from my bed. It really hasn’t been an issue but sometimes I do miss a bedside lamp. Sometimes I just sit in my room at night to read or knit and I have to have my very bright ceiling light on. That made me think of lamps and the fact that no one has them here. Weird. Every once in a while I’ll use a flashlight, but it’s not the same. Maybe I’ll check out the possibility of a battery powered lamp…

Baking

            Very few people here have ovens and if they do they use them for storage! This weekend I’m buying ingredients to make cookies in a friend’s oven that’s never been used cause she doesn’t know how. I miss the taste of cookie dough or half-baked-fresh-out-of-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. Also the convenience of heating up a pizza or meatballs. I never realized how much I relied on baking. Pretty much all my cooking skills involve baking; it’s hard to cook purely with a stovetop…

Drinks

            Hot water with sugar is not the same as a chai latte. A shot of traigo will never compare to Melinda’s margaritas. Pilsen beer tastes like pee water compared to Lagunitas’ Little Sumthin Sumthin. Give me that $2 Boba or a Strickland’s milkshake, I can’t drink “Inca Cola” anymore!

Breakfast

            - Soup of chopped up potatoes and noodles EVERY MORNING does not compare to the variety of cereal, toast, peanut butter, bagels, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and coffee. How I’d love to pop some whole wheat toast in a toaster or lather cold cream cheese on a hot everything bagel… I miss those simple breakfasts, their variety, and their convenience. When I don’t have time to eat hot soup, oh how I miss my quick stops at  Albertsons for my coffee and muffin before work. I should start a JavaHut business in our plaza for the people on their way to their farms and the students on their way to work!

Driving

            - It’s crazy to think I won’t be driving for 27 months! Am I going to remember how to drive? I miss the convenience of having my own car to go places, I miss driving buses at UCI, but also I just miss driving period. I’d drive that terribly boring stretch of I-5 or that dreaded 6am opening shift on Main Campus in a heartbeat if giving the chance! I also miss car rides with my friends. Not that I don’t enjoy awkward chats with the smelly man jammed in next to me practically on my lap, but I miss those road trips to Vegas or drives to go get tacos on Tuesdays. Melinda and Amy, I know we almost started WWIII deciding who’s turn it was to drive to Disneyland but when I get back, don’t worry, I’ll drive :)

Upgrades and Updates

I now have a bathroom complete with flushing toilet and shower! I have yet to use the shower but I have officially broken in the toilet and, surprisingly my favorite part, the sink! My make-shift sink, or “Tippy-Tap”, in my room has gotten old and it’s just so nice to wash my hands in a real life sink. So luxurious;) I can’t wait to buy little accessories for the bathroom like a mirror (they sell these nifty mirrors with a tray and slots to put toothbrushes) and a toilet paper holder. Another strange thing about Peru and toilets is that 80% of them, public and private, don’t have a seat. It’s weird. I guess they just don’t sit when they poop or don’t want to clean those extra layers? But yeah when they installed our toilet they just left the seat off. I asked them why they don’t put on the seat and cover that came with the toilet. It’s still sitting in my host parents room, I’ll get it on eventually! That and a few other details are still missing but I pooped on a toilet today in my own home and I couldn’t be happier!

I also got a puppy! His name is Lobo (means wolf) and he's the bomb. My host family fell in love with him so he's the family dog more than just mine but he still loves me the best;). This week I stopped letting him sleep in my bed to get him used to sleeping outside. It's so hard, I miss Toby and Bella keeping me company in bed, and Lobo was a nice replacement! I'm (most likely) leaving him here when I go home but for the next 18 months he'll be good company.

I know some people (my mom!) really want to know, “So it’s been 6 months, what the heck work have you done?!” Honestly, I also ask myself that question all the time. “Work” is such a general word. Peace Corps is “the hardest job you’ll ever love” not because we’re swamped with work 24/7 but rather the opposite: Our work is slow to start, hard to keep going, and will produce results that are often difficult if not impossible to see. We’re promoting behavior change, which, according to research, takes over 5 years to accomplish; therefore, in our 2 years here, we probably won’t see much. So when I say “I’m working” you have to keep in mind that this work is unlike any other “job” you’re probably thinking of.

And honestly it’s been tough. I have no one telling me what to do or where I’m needed, so I have to basically create work for myself. Often volunteers have a lot more institutions and authorities to work with who have ideas and tasks for them. For example, my closest colleagues have around 20 employees in their health center, with a department especially for public health outreach. On the other hand, I’m up here with 3 health employees who are swamped with work and have very little time to spend helping me with my ideas for projects. I’m realizing I’m not great at this kind of informal, independent, development work and it’s been a real challenge for me. Sometimes on my off days, like they warned us, I find myself wondering why I’m here, because the community seems to be doing just fine and I feel like I’m creating more work for people or just annoying people with my ideas. But on my good days I know that what I’m doing here will leave lasting imprints on lives and help Chocta to grow into a more thriving, healthy community that I know it has the potential to be. No one signs up for this job cause they think it’ll be easy. I welcome the struggles because getting through them is how I’ll be able to leave this experience with skills, knowledge and confidence I didn’t have before…

nutrition session

how can we make more balanced meals?

pretty rainbow with my host niece

LOBO!

We love learning English!!

Visit to the Chachapoyas hospital

I meant to spend a relaxed afternoon in Chachapoyas running errands, seeing friends, and eating good food. But instead, I had an unfortunate change of plans when I learned that my host brother Lucho was in the hospital in Chachapoyas with his wife Bremilda and Marlleli, my god-daughter. The last time I saw Marlleli was yesterday when she had a cough but was otherwise running around. I hoped they were overreacting bringing her here but nonetheless, hopped in a taxi to go to the hospital.

When I got there, Lucho was waiting outside and walked me to the ER. He told me she has bronchitis and possible pneumonia. In the ER room I greeted a tear-filled Bremie and a sobbing Marlleli with her oxygen mask. It was so sad, poor baby. But she had all the color in her face and besides looking scared, she looked alright. When the nurse came in to change her to nasal canula, Bremie asked how long she’d need it. The nurse impatiently replied “your baby needs this or she will die.” I’m not kidding. Bremie asked again. She replied “Senora, we don’t know how long.” And left the room. We all know that cranky and tired nurses exist everywhere, and for the amount of time I’ve spent with nurses, I of course know and understand the impatience. But this case was different. This time I knew that the patient hadn’t finished primary school. This time I knew that this was only the second time she’s left Chocta. This time I really understood how scary it must be to in a big new place with a sick child and without answers. This time I realized how valuable a little compassion can be.

My second rant is when a doctor and his resident came in to listen to Marlleli’s lungs. They mutter to each other “nada” after listening, ask Bremie again why she came in, and said Marlleli needs to be hospitalized for the night. Then left. No answers, no reassurance. Bremie looks at me with huge swollen eyes and asks why they kept saying “nada.” From the perspective of a hardly educated, scared mom, you can imagine how that sounds without explanation. I told her it’s a good thing. The doctors should hear clear breaths without any other sound. If they heard any other sound it would mean something is wrong. The tension left her face. How many times did I do that when I was working with another nurse? Probably a lot. With how many patients did I care enough about to get to know their personal back-story? Not a lot.

I was recently reflecting with a friend on how slow it is going starting our projects. We felt like after almost 6 months (in June) we have nothing to show for ourselves except for some Spanish skills and a bit of personal growth. I may not have birthed a baby or established behavior change (yet) but I feel like in 6 quick months I have learned so much about myself, gained invaluable perspective, and will not come back the same.