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.