Home sweet home

Well, I arrived in Madison at 4PM on Tuesday, a very tired woman after a trip full of plane cancellations and missed connections. Sean picked me up, deposited me with my luggage at Bridget’s house where I am resting and eating good food. I finally went to the kitchen and drank water from the tap with only a little trepidation. I’m sleeping a lot!

I’m glad I went to Peru with the Peace Corps and I’m glad to be home. I am very, very tired but well with no lingering illnesses. Now that I’m home and resting, I question whether I ever could have completed 2 years in that challenging environment and occasionally wonder if asking for a site change would have enabled me to complete my service. I’m sad about coming home after only 6 months and have a feeling of loss for not having done the work I wanted to do in La Cruz.

Despite coming home early, I have a sense of gratitude for:
• Improved language skill. My 2nd day home, I went for lunch at my favorite Mexican café and the owner was astonished at my changed conversational ability.
• Wonderful friendships that reach across a 40+ year age difference as we learned together, laughed together and moaned over the tough times together.
• I got over my fear of traveling around by combi, moto, and by flagging down random cars on the Pan American highway.
• I had a hands-on experience in simple living and hope that the knowledge of how little I need to be happy stays with me the rest of my days.
• I have wonderful friendships in La Cruz and can stay connected through the wonders of e-mail and Skype.
• My host family had never known anyone from the US and now they have a friend from Wisconsin.
• The youth group leader, Henry plans to go to the municipality with my host mother to request another Peace Corps volunteer because they see the possibility for support in community development.

I’ll miss people and aspects of Peace Corps life a lot, especially
• Robyn and Sarah, good friends, smart, capable women, great support and the best people to have nearby in the north of Peru!
• My host family, especially my host mom, Sylveria who is one of the most committed community activists I’ve ever met.
• All the great people in my group, Peru 12. We had so much fun together.
• The ride from La Cruz to Tumbes in beat up old cars driving through the beautiful green rice fields full of egrets.
• The children on my street running toward me with open arms hollering for hugs from Sarita.
• The adolescents in the youth groups who were open and welcoming.
• The ocean, the beautiful, beautiful ocean. Swimming in the ocean with my host family, with my Peace Corps friends and with the children.
• The good humor of the hard working staff at Central de Salud in La Cruz.
• Hanging out on the front porch in the evenings with my host family and half the neighborhood.
• The music, dance and laughter that are so much a part of Peruvian culture.

Of course I won’t miss
• Looking at food wondering how sick I’ll get if I eat it
• Trying to sleep in a very noisy environment
• Dogs, dogs, dogs barking all night.
• 22 hour bus rides to get from La Cruz to Lima
• Flies everywhere, covering the food at the market and swarming the kitchens
• Not having water for days at a time and boiling water to drink.
• Getting sick regularly, always on the lookout for a bathroom and always with a supply of toilet paper in my pocket.

I’m keenly aware of all the support I received from family and friends through this whole time period. I couldn’t have done it without both the material support and encouragement, especially Helen who was my banker and business manager. She cheerfully gave back my checkbook this week. All the comments on my blog felt like a cheering section, especially when I felt like I was running a marathon.

One tired, retired and returned Peace Corps volunteer!

Sarita

Waiting to fly home

So, as I wait in an airport hotel to get onto a flight home (last night’s flight out of Lima was canceled), I reflect on this incredible adventure with both gratitude and sadness. The goodbyes to my friends in La Cruz and my Peace Corps friends have been very tearful. Yesterday I sat in a park in Lima calling my family and friends in La Cruz. When I said goodbye to Henry, the youth group leader, he put his sisters, Gasdaly age 15 and Danuska age 8 on the phone. They were both in my English classes and little Danuska said her goodbyes in English. Henry and I had gotten to the point of teasing each other and joking in both languages. We had plans for work together with his teen group and many long conversations.

Then I said my goodbye to Gladys, the midwife in La Cruz who had been concerned about my weight loss and illnesses. We too had plans to develop a prenatal education program, childbirth classes and more. I have so much respect for the staff at the health center who provide the best care possible in difficult circumstances. The birth room at the health center has the barest equipment and no water. Last year, they lost 2 women to eclampsia, one because her family wouldn’t take her to the hospital in Tumbes.

I said goodbye to my host family. We’ll miss each other a lot as the connection there was strong. Robyn and Sarah will help my host mom get an e-mail address so we can keep in touch. My host mom and Henry are planning on going to the mayor to write a letter to the Peace Corps requesting another volunteer. Sylveria said to me, “We’d never known anyone from the United States and now we have a friend there!”

Sarah Walker once said that we have two lives here, one with our host family and community, the other with our Peace Corps friends with both being important. She’s quite right as those connections with the other volunteers who understand what you are going through and can laugh with you are vital. I never dreamed 6 months ago when I walked into a hotel in Washington DC that I’d have friendships with people 40 years younger than me. I’ll miss Sarah and Robyn a lot along with lots of other fine people in the wacky group that made up Peru 12. There will be care packages in the mail…

I said goodbye to the dream of completing 2 years in the Peace Corps. I must say, I’m ok with the decision to return to the states even though I’m disappointed. I still think the Peace Corps goals are important and attainable. While I didn’t carry out my work plan, I know the goals of increasing understanding and friendship have been met. I hope to talk about Peru, its people and challenges when I return to Wisconsin.

I also hope to sort out my thoughts and feelings about being an older volunteer in the Peace Corps which has a stated goal of 10% volunteers over 55. Pretty tough even for this woman who left the US in good health with a lot of camping experience so the latrines and bucket baths were not ever a problem. On the other hand, when I was tempted to say that I couldn’t do this because of my age, Michael McGuire reminded me that a number of young people have gone home early for similar reasons, some people’s digestive systems never adjust to the bugs. Speaking of which, I do hope I don’t bring any home with me! When I was repacking my things, a half dead cockroach crawled out of my suitcase. I couldn’t stop laughing!

Getting ready to fly home

I flew to Lima yesterday and am staying at the home of Kathleen and Leo. Kathleen is training center director for Peace Corps here and most generous with her support. I´m very weak and tired so I expect to mostly rest until my friends, Robyn, Sarah and Michael get my things packed in La Cruz and transported to Lima this weekend. Then I´ll be on a plane home by Monday at the latest.

I´m quite disappointed not to be fulfilling the 2 years here. I shed tears telling the midwife that I won´t be returning to La Cruz as we had great plans to develop a prenatal education program for the clinic there. However, all the prenatal materials sent by my friends in the US will be hers to use now. She especially loved Mientras Espera, the Spanish prenatal book. More tears saying goodbye to my La Cruz family and my Tumbes Peace Corps friends. Robyn and Sarah are the women you want to be with at the beach, in the campo and about any other adventure!

I wouldn´t have missed it for anything. I would never have known how far I could stretch, would never have met such great people and seen first hand how difficult life is in a developing country.

Sara

Sara

Tough decision

Well, this last illness scared me. I've lost 30 pounds in my 5 months in Peru and no longer feel I have the physical reserves needed to continue Peace Corps service. I am aware that my ability to rebound is significantly different from the younger volunteers. I have begun to dread more illness and know that they are inevitable in the challenging living circumstances.

So it is with a great deal of regret and sadness that I have made the decision to return to the United States. I'll be resting for about a week before returning to La Cruz to say my goodbyes and pack. Then on to Lima for Peace Corps final processes and home to Madison.

I fully expected to serve 2 years. I'd like to have given back to the community a small measure of the love and support I received from the people. I had projects lined up that would have been quite satisfying to bring to fruition. I'd like to travel in Peru and see more of it's incredible diversity. I've made great friends who I'll miss dearly.

Ryan asked me last night if I regretted coming. No,not for a moment.

Rough patch in Peru

Well, this PC volunteer has indeed hit a rough patch. I’ve had a couple of illnesses that have laid me low and necessitated me going to a city 5 hours south of my site for medical care and rest. No weird tropical diseases, nothing I won’t bounce back from but tough.

Right now I am staying in a hostel, eating Jello and sipping Gatorade. I may never want to see Gatorade again! And I do hope never to have another combi ride like the one that brought me here. I’ll spare you the details except for my gratitude to a woman on the ride down. My host brother had helped me get to the combi and saw that I had a window seat. As passengers were getting on, they started grumbling about the gringa having the window seat. One woman piped up and said, “The gringa is sick, she’s nauseated, she needs the window”. Bless that woman.

Actually, I have a lot to be grateful for including the patient Peace Corps docs who answer the phone whenever I call and arranges for good care. The my PC friends who call to check on me, the volunteers here in Piura who have brought me food and drink and all the support from home.

Needless to say, I’m discouraged waiting for energy and appetite to rebound.

Rats
Sarita

Stretch your limits

Part of life in the Peace Corps is dealing with the inevitable illnesses that are brought on by food, water and insects. I’ve been slowed down several times this month with frustrating intestinal illnesses that take time and energy. Fortunately we have great doctors on call, lots of raunchy humor about our conditions and medications when needed. I often look at food with suspicion and regret every bad decision! And with the stress of illness, I’ve been homesick this week. My host mother asked what I would be eating in the US and I couldn’t answer, everything is so different here. When we talked about rice, I tried to explain brown rice. My family said, “it must be toasted” or “it must be precooked” but consider it inedible with the hull. I compared it to whole wheat with no better success. They figured the problem was my Spanish so I called my friend Sarah who validated I’d been using the right words.

When the rains come, flies emerge and are everywhere all the time. Water is more contaminated than usual which makes washing fruit and vegetables difficult so even with boiling all my water, I’ve caught the bug. When I am talking with families about water, most boil water only for the smallest children while the adults drink crude water. I’ll never view water the same way again both because water in the US is plentiful and clean from the tap. We’ve been getting water every 4-5 days during the rainy season so I’ve learned to really use my tank conservatively. I can’t explain why we get so little water when it’s raining and rivers are full. Roofs don’t have gutters so collecting rain This week the dengue patrol came to my house inspecting my tank to see if it was clean and covered (it was!).

Now there are more mosquitoes and at first I was surprised to see how much fear people have of them as I think about the hoards of mosquitoes in Wisconsin every summer. But mosquitoes in the US don’t carry dengue or malaria which changes perception of them a lot. The question that comes to me frequently is if mosquitoes carry HIV as they go from person to person biting. When I say, “No, the virus dies in the mosquito stomach”, the next question is “Why don’t they study what kills the virus in the mosquito stomach”. One of my medical friends could send me a better explanation of this!

I have a sticker on my notebook here that says “Stretch your Limits” and I certainly have done many things I never thought I could. This last weekend, my friend Robyn brought 20 kids from her youth group to the beach for the day. Some of the kids from a youth group here joined them and started up a game of volleyball on the beach. Now I hated volleyball in high school and never played it again after graduation 48 years ago. I planned to watch and take photos but the kids really wanted me to play so I stretched my limits. I’m pleased to say I can still serve volleyball. When it came to volleying back and forth, my technique sent them rolling in laughter in the sand, especially when I ducked and covered my head exactly as I had done in high school. Now they want to give me lessons. I think I should act my age…

So that’s the news from Peace Corps Peru.
Sara aka Sarita

Pest control

Since it´s the rainy season here, bugs are multiplying rapidly including mosquitos. Dengue fever and malaria are endemic here as is vigilance against the diseases. There have been no cases of dengue in La Cruz and few cases of malaria. This Peace Corps volunteer is faithfully taking her anti-malaria medicine. The health post people are busy going door to door looking for standing water that is not covered, cleaning water tanks and putting some chemical in them that kills the larvae of mosquitos (only if they find larva). Saturday, the health clinic is closed while all the personnel go house to house on this campaign.

The other part of this battle is waged with pesticides. Last night as my English class was ending, I heard a horrible racket in the neighborhood. The door to door pesticide men were out in full force with portable machines that fog homes. Houses all over the neighborhood were emitting clouds of pesticides, the kids were running through the clouds shrieking and I was unglued. I´ve had all of 2 mosquito bites in my time here as the ocean breezes keep the mosquitos at bay in La Cruz. Today the pesticide crew was in my barrio and I stood at my door like a cross cat to make sure they didn´t fog my little house.

Rain last night and my roof leaked with drops on my bed. I was so tired that I put a washbasin on the bed under the drip and went back to sleep. Today my host brothers are mobilizing to patch the roof. And as I went house to house doing interviews today, I was very aware that my living space is luxurious for a single person here. I have a cement floor, cement walls and lots of space. My water tank lasts for 4 days if I am careful. Who could ask for more!

Mud

Rain comes in the night, pounding on the tin roof and turning packed dirt into thick clay mud. I woke once to listen to the rain, felt a few drops on my bed and went back to sleep! This morning the temperature had dropped to a lovely cool 76. The town was quiet except for tiny yellow birds singing. I was reading in my mediation book when my neighbor (on the other side of a half inch plywood wall) called out to me. I had hung clothes out to dry yesterday and assumed they were soaking wet. She had gone out when the rain started and brought them in to hang in her house. Yep, it´s about generousity...

I am very happy in my little house. I can read, study, work and rest in a relatively quiet place. The funny thing is that if I´d started in this house, I´d probably think it was noisy because there are 3 little kids next door, a dog and the TV. But now it seems peaceful!

This morning I talked again with the midwife at the local clinic about classes. I showed her the childbirth class phamplets and other educational material sent from the states (thanks to Kathy G, Sara D and Norma). She was so excited because materials like this are rare here. She´s petitioned for a room for me to teach childbirth classes. Last night I met a young woman just back from physical therapy studies in Lima who wants to help me with my projects. I asked her to help me learn the Spanish I need to teach childbirth classes. I´ve got a long way to go...

Cheers
Sara

Home sweet home!

Yesterday afternoon, my family helped me move into my little house. The move itself was a riot as you can see from the photo of my host dad. He and my host mom worked very heard painting and cleaning. Then my host dad moved my bed, dresser and all my stuff. He also packed up a lot of it in random bags! Once everything was moved, my host parents went into a frenzy of activity, putting up pictures (theirs), calendars, my dry erase board, nails for dress hangers, you name it.

I am so relieved. My bedroom is painted, the toilet functions (bucket flush), I have a water barrel for bucket baths and the living room will get painted sometime. The window (which has the required bars) will get glass sometime. I´ve seen the house lizard on the wall. On the otherside of the wall is a family of five, the neighborhood dogs bark at night and the roosters crow but the difference in noise level is incredible.

I was so excited last night I couldn´t sleep. Felt like a kid at Christmas. When I shut the door, I am alone in my own space. I not only treasure the reduced noise level but realize how much I wanted to be able to have my own space.

Hooray!

Talking with pregnant women

So aside from learning how to live in this totally new environment, what am I doing here? Well, our first priority is to do a community diagnostic including house to house interviews along with assessment of the strengths and weakness of the area. This is a good thing because my first impulse like most people is to plunge in trying to “fix” things that look obviously broken. But as time goes by, I get more of a sense of the complexity and community priorities.

The house to house interviews are amazing. People are used to the health post staff going door to door doing inspections for standing water where mosquitoes breed and giving vaccines. The community does not have a radio, newspaper or loudspeakers (thank goodness) so door to door is the way to reach people. I go out with the health post staff and after some initial hesitation the families welcome me into their house. Generally everyone in the house gathers to watch, listen and comment. The health staff helps when people don’t understand me which happens less frequently now than a month ago. This month I’ll start data entry so I can do an analysis which means I’ll be face to face with an old enemy, the Excel spreadsheet.

I am also at the health clinic 3 mornings a week to talk with pregnant women about nutrition and breastfeeding. Occasionally I encounter women who rarely eat fruit or vegetables and have no idea why they should. And then there was the woman who ate lots of both including making fresh beet/orange juice every day. The vegetables here are limited and unvaried. Many people consider yucca and potatoes to be vegetables. I’m still trying to get one of the merchants to bring in beet greens but they are fed to the pigs and folks think this gringa is crazy.

Of course talking with pregnant women is something I love. I’m also talking with the midwives about ways I can help them including teaching childbirth preparation classes hopefully in March. I’ve been greatly supported in this by educational materials in Spanish from nurse friends at home.

Muchas Gracias a todas!!

The woman in the photo is in my family and is standing on the front porch. And good news, my bed is being moved into my new house this evening. Not all the work is done but the tiny bedroom is painted and clean!!!

Sarita

February 2, 2009

Happy Birthday Sean!!! Can you believe that Sean is 30 today!

And I'm in Tumbes staying in a hostel for 2 days of rest after a crises in my family. The husband of one of my host sisters died last night after a year of leukemia treatment. His two children live in my house and I´ll probably never forget the sobbing of the 8 year old girl last night when she learned about her father´s death. This is the 2nd death in a host family home I´ve experienced here in Peru. The whole family is going to a town 4 hours south for the funeral but planned to leave two teenagers behind to make sure I wasn´t alone. I called the Peace Corps doc and got authorization (and money) for 2 nights away.

So I sat at the ocean awhile, packed a few things, tried to find words of comfort for the little girl, sent Sean a cell phone message and headed for Tumbes. I´ll have lunch with a Peace Corps friend (who is a birder!), dinner with the midwife from the clinic and a shower. Did I mention a shower??

Sarita

Patience and maracuya

Just when I think I’ve had it, something happens to change my perspective into “you can do this”. Today I had a quiet conversation with my host mom during breakfast. I’ve been frustrated and angry with her over the pace of fixing up my new living space but I also have a lot of respect for her. She is a smart, strong woman with a long history of community activism. Today was her turn to prepare food for Vaso de Leche (glass of milk). My host mom is raising her 18 month old grandson and 3 granddaughters. She’s been aggravated because Vaso de Leche hasn’t worked for several days when someone shirked their duties and didn’t find a replacement.

Vaso de Leche is a government sponsored nutrition program for small children organized neighborhood by neighborhood. The program serves children years old and younger. Every day, one of the mothers on my street prepares a huge pot of Quacker (oatmeal porridge) with milk and sugar. Families with small children come with their pots to receive one cup for every small child in their house. The government gives supplies for oatmeal with water one day and a cup of milk on the alternative day. Since most people don’t like Quacker with water (really nasty) the mothers purchase milk to add if they have the money (about 80 cents US) but a can of evaporated milk is very expensive for most families. This is often the only milk a child gets in a day especially now in the season when fish are scarce and the fishermen only have work a day or two per week. Today, the big pot of Quacker was on my front porch.

Then I went to the health clinic for a long conversation with one of the male midwives about the possibilities for my work here. He talked about the steadily growing change in women’s awareness of their rights and their ability to seek work outside the home. This guy clearly loves his work, moonlights for extra income and is studying accounting so he can change to a field where he can better support his family. He also delighted me by recognizing what a massive life change it is for me to live here, awareness rarely expressed. And I was pleased to realize that this was a fluid conversation while a month ago I barely understood him.
Inevitably the discussion led to the talk about foreign (US) companies extracting petroleum from the ocean here but employing and training only a handful of local people. The oil company currently preparing to drill here has been holding town meetings that are well attended and boisterous. They give things to the community and fund some good works as part of a public relations effort however that has not diminished concerns.

I returned home midday to see that the carpenter and cement guy were busy working on the repairs for the tiny house I’ll be moving into when it’s ready (on Peruvian time). In the front yard of my house, the littlest boys were comparing their penises (some things are universal). Lunch was waiting with my favorite fresh juice, maracuya. I napped in the midday heat and bathed in about 2 quarts of water.
Later in the evening I went to a big community meeting with representatives of the oil company, representatives of the government department of mining and petroleum department, the oil company manager doing his PR job with about 200 people from the community.

The discussions were lengthy and intense as the fishermen expressed fear for their industry through disruption of the currents, damage to the fishing beds and the potential for an oil spill. The over 1000 fishermen are the town’s economic base as well as bringing in the main protein source for the area. The local construction workers are trying to get an agreement that will bring more employment. And a young woman mayor of a nearby town spoke passionately about the threat to the fishing industry in her area as well as the potential damage to a major ecological area, Manglares. The Manglares is a unique mangrove forest in a lagoon that is home to many migrating birds as well as shellfish.

In the midst of this meeting I had the sense of watching the David’s of La Cruz face off with the Goliath of the oil company while my role is to be a US representative of peace and friendship.

Definitely frustrated

Well, I never expected this to be easy but right now my frustration level is over the top! I’ve been negotiating with my host family for a change in housing which when it actually happens will mean that I have half of a small house to myself complete with my own door and toilet. However, despite many promises and a chunk of change, nothing is materializing except my host mother’s latest brainstorm, a kiosk where she sells hamburgers on the street at night, I’m angry and having serious problems getting enough rest. So there’ve been some tough discussions with more to follow.

Then today, the very amiable internet café guy came to the house to tell me he’s closing the business after tonight because he doesn’t make any money on it. This has been such a great place to take my laptop, talk over Skype and get away from the continuous uproar in my house during the evening.

So I went to the beach to get away, get perspective and hope that a little more patience would appear over the horizon. The waves were huge, a few kids were surfing and the sky was gorgeous. All was well until a drunk guy threw himself at my feet pleading for something from the gringa (probably money). I said something in Spanish and scrambled off the beach remembering that the families I’ve talked to about HIV tell me that the addicts use the beach to shoot up cocaine and leave their needles in the sand. So today, this Peace Corps volunteer is closely related to the beach crabs that scuttle along at the surf’s edge.

Now I do know that “this too will pass”. That sooner or later, my host family will fix up my house and I’ll move. There will be another internet café for me to use. That next time I go to the beach, I’ll go to a more central location where there’s always someone I know in the vicinity. And I remember to practice yoga several times a week, meditate daily and keep track of my sense of humor.

On a brighter note, I’m finally doing a little more work in the community which feels great. I’ve been going house to house doing information gathering in a format prescribed by the Peace Corps. What I’m learning is interesting and my Spanish is slowly improving. This is background work for what is called a community diagnostic after which I will discuss the results with various community partners to establish priorities for my work here. I’m already biased because I want to work with prenatal education and HIV prevention. That will be enough for one woman for the two years I’m here. That is if I don’t go stark raving nuts first!


Peace Corps motto: The toughest job you’ll ever love.

The Grandmother with Itchy Feet goes to a Concert

When the grandma with itchy feet lived in Peru, she was always listening to music. You see, the Peruvians love music, especially cumbia. Music is always playing in houses, tiendas (tiny stores), combis (tiny buses) and at the beach. Now Peruvians don’t like quiet music, they like music LOUD and strong. When there is a party, everyone dances to cumbia all night long grown-ups and children together so that the whole neighborhood rocks with the sounds.
The most famous and popular band in Peru is Grupo Cinco. Grandma listened to the same songs over and over because Peruvians LOVE Grupo Cinco. So when Grupo Cinco came to grandma’s town, she went to hear them with her friends, Robyn, Sarah and Amara. The concert was in a stadium outside under a grey sky with the scissors birds flying over the ocean nearby. Now because grandma and her friends come from the US, they went to the stadium at 2 o’clock because that was the time for the posters around town said it would start. But Peruvians have another time that’s called hora Peruana (Peruvian hour) so according to their custom, the concert started much later.
Grupo Cinco was great with lots of horns, drums and five men singing. The music was so LOUD that grandma could feel her bones vibrate. Peruvians don’t sit and listen to music, they dance to music! The idea of Peruvians sitting still listening to Grupo Cinco is very funny and would never happen. But grandma sat happily watching the dancing and tapping her feet. She thought about her grandson Alex and granddaughter Katrina who would have danced along and loved the LOUD music of Grupo Cinco.

Note to parents, this story is best read to music of Grupo Cinco downloaded! A few details have been omitted such as grandma leaving early to avoid the inevitable drunkenness that would begin to take over and render the situation a wee bit difficult!

Inauguration day in Peru

What a day! I was in Piura following a regional Peace Corps meeting so I had the great luxury of my own room in a hostel with a flush toilet and shower! The morning of the inauguration, I woke early, turned on CNN to see the crowds gathering in Washington DC and tears started flowing. I knew that Jenni, Sean, Jeff and Sara were getting ready to join the crowds so I felt the pull to be with them as well as the thrill of watching this momentous change in our government. I headed out for tea at a shop with a wide screen TV showing the proceedings.

Then around 11 AM, the Peace Corps volunteers present from Piura and Tumbes gathered the restaurant of a posh hotel where there was a wide screen TV so we could watch together with lots of cheers and tears. At the end we all stood and sang the national anthem along with the millions watching in DC and via television. And then we went to a restaurant where I had a salad with organic lettuce and Roquefort cheese! Afterward, I thought back over all the events of the civil rights era starting for me with passionate arguments with my Dad in the late 1950’s as we watched the initial efforts to integrate southern schools via national news. I thought about watching Sean grapple with racism as he grew into a young man and his fear that Obama wouldn’t win the election. And of all the conversations with Peruvians about the symbolism of this election as well as their hope that Obama will bring about change that will benefit other nations in the world. No question, we all hold our heads a little higher now!

The next day, home to Tumbes where the rains come in the night accompanied by thunder and lightning. The air is always humid now, mud is everywhere and clothes don’t dry for days. Sometimes mid-day, I literally drip with sweat until the late afternoon when a bucket bath revives me. Many trees and bushes are in bloom with vibrant color. I’ve been watching the houses where gardeners live, tending their flowers through the dry hot times of the year. On every street there’s at least one gardener. And in the rice fields, they are planting a new crop that glows bright green.

Comes the rain

 

Well I’ve been out of contact through internet for a few days because this week the rains started so either I don't want to walk to the internet cabina with my laptop or the lights are out. The first few days were cloudy with occasional light rain. I loved it, the breeze was fresh, and the temperature dropped to the high 70’s, what a treat. Folks around me complained of being cold… Then the rain started in earnest, torrential rains that come in the night and pound on the tin room. The big surprise is that when the rain starts to pour the electricity goes off. Wham, the lights go out for the night. I actually don’t understand the explanation but given the shoddy state of the electrical system, it’s probably for the best. My family always seems to know when the electricity will come back on, “Oh, they’ll turn it on at 10AM”.
Last night, I was about to go nuts from the television in my house and a very noisy circus half a block away. The circus goes on until about midnight with a tremendous speaker system blaring music. Then the rain started, the lights went out, the music and TV stopped. That didn’t mean quiet in my house because the usual family uproar continued by candlelight but the circus folded for the night. When I woke to the sound of rain in the night I realized the roof over my room was leaking in places but I couldn’t tell where in the dark so in a moment of paranoia, I took my computer to bed with me! I could take anything else getting soaked but not my laptop. When morning came I really only had a puddle on one side of the room.
The rain is a welcome change from unrelenting sun bringing fresh air and water for the plants but there’s also a down side. The dry riverbed that runs through the town is used as a garbage dump so it is filled with garbage, vultures and huge pigs. When the rains come, the river bed fills and the garbage goes to the sea. So today, the paradox of a gorgeous marine blue sea contrasted with the swelling rivers carrying garbage. I walked along the shore this evening at sunset with one of the children chasing the crabs that scuttle along the beach and splashing in the warm water. Now I’m waiting for water, hoping for a bucket bath and water to wash clothing tomorrow. And waiting for the circus to end.

Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore

Another photo of the little guy who provides a lot of comic relief! He's stuffed with balloons!

Every day brings surprises! Today I went to the clinic expecting to do nutrition counseling with pregnant women but they weren’t seeing patients. The clinic was closed for a ceremony honoring the purchase of new equipment. The staff, the board of directors and various others were gathered in the tiny waiting room and after an hour or so, they started with introductory words. By now I also know that introductory words are given by a number or people and are not brief! Then the new equipment was blessed with sprinkling water and prayers after which we all got a small glass of champagne and toasted. After that we were served gaseosa (soda) and cookies. Then the list of new equipment was read including a new computer, a photocopy machine, new chairs, new blood pressure equipment, a machine for measuring oxygen levels and a Doppler for listening to fetuses (the first for this clinic). If I understood correctly, some of the money for this came from the US oil company that wants to drill for oil off the coast of La Cruz. They are courting the town.
And for the first time since I came here, I saw a nurse wash her hands with soap and water from a plastic bucket. So I watch the paradox of this clinic with expensive new equipment and no running water.
I’m also learning why the more experienced volunteers told us to take a book to every meeting. Punctuality almost unknown here so something to read or work on is helpful. At the same time, many meetings just don’t happen. I think I’ve had about 5 meetings scheduled this week where no one showed up. Then last night when I was at the internet cabina, the sister of a community leader showed up looking for me and took me to her brother’s house where we proceeded to get the work done that had been planned earlier in the week when he hadn’t shown up.
After the morning clinic ceremony, I asked the president of the board of directors for a few minutes time thinking I’d introduce myself and explain my goals. That turned into a full board meeting with the doctor who is head of the clinic. The meeting was pretty much a disaster as they spoke to rapidly for me to understand much except that the man in this group had the idea that I’d write grant letters to organizations in the US and bring in lots of money. I dodged this by saying I didn’t understand him (generally true) and that he’d have to talk to my director when she visits the end of February.
After which I wandered home on a blistering hot day for hot chicken soup, fresh orange juice and a lovely fruit called cerdwela (undoubtedly spelled wrong). When I woke, I took a bucket bath and then suddenly was involved in a television interview in support of a Peruvian NGO that is starting garbage and recycling project here. I knew this was coming sometime…but as I traipsed through the house wrapped in a towel, they appeared. So I quickly got into clothes and said my few words in front of a camera on the beach.
Like I said, I never know what to expect.

Conversations about the US

I can’t count the number of questions I get everyday just walking down the street and usually the same over and over. Today, I was sitting with my host brother Osvaldo looking at a book of pictures of Wisconsin. I thought he was going to melt when he saw a picture of a dairy farm and asked if I would ship him one of those cows. Or adopt him when I return to the US. So this is how the questions went today.
Sarita, you love your country don’t you?
Yes, I really do.
But your country dominates the whole world.
I know that and it’s not ok however I also love many things about the US.
You love the land.
I love the land and the people.
But not the politics.
Well, actually I like a lot of the laws and politics but like all countries, we have problems.
Yes, you have racists.
Every country has racists. If you woke up tomorrow and found that 500 people of another culture, race and language were living in La Cruz, you’d be frightened and see racism appear here. Right now, I’m the only gringa in town so you don’t see many people of other countries.
Hmm, you’re probably right about that. Your country doesn’t have petrol and takes our oil but we don’t get the money from it because it’s US companies that take the oil.
I didn’t answer that question because it’s painfully obvious here watching fish, shrimp and calamari unloaded from old boats ever day, often brought to shore on what are called launches, utterly rickety log rafts poled in with tubs of fish aboard. And the flares from the oil rigs that light up the evening sky while the town doesn’t have a decent water system.
Another frequent question revolves around the idea that there aren’t poor people in the US. And comparatively speaking the poverty here is severe with bare shelter and malnutrition rampant but it would be unheard of to see people sleeping in the streets. Social support systems are scarce however families help each other out, take each other in a safety net that is pretty tight like it or not!
And of course, many questions about Obama who is seen as someone who will bring about positive change as well as a victory against racism.

King of the house

The youngest kid in the house at naptime!

I'm through the holidays and ready to begin more serious work but everything takes place in Peruvian time which means that some meetings happen and some don't. I'm scheduled to begin teaching English classes for teenagers who are out of school for the summer, a class on self esteem for a youth group and do nutrition counseling at the health clinic. I'll see what really happens!

And I've asked my family to help me find a solution to the sleepless nights I frequently have living with 12 people in a room that has only 3/4 wall alongside the living room. We've come up with some possibilities that I hope to see materialize in the next month but then I still think in terms of US time not Peruvian time...

I always love comments on my blog because then I know it's being read! And then I feel like I have a cheering squad at home which cheers me on those days when culture shock seems very real.

Cheers
Sarita

New Year's in Peru

Wow. What a night. My second quinceneros and first New Year's in Peru. By this time, I knew the outline of the quinceneros so I anticipated an all night bash. The day was spend in frenzied preparations, cooking, cleaning, setting up an outdoor fiesta space, ironing clothes, hauling in cases of beer. Peruvian beer is 5% with bigger bottles than those in the US and I counted over 20 cases when the evening started. Then the DJ and sound system came at which time the house started to actually vibrate.

My friend Sarah came from her site nearby which made the evening just great. My family is quite hospitable, welcoming of Peace Corps friends and in the midst of the celebration, the DJ made a big deal out of the guests from the US who were here for 2 years as volunteers in the health program. The quinceneros girl was given the traditional presentation by her parents, grandparents, godmother and godfather. She had a court of attendants including squirmy 15 year old boys in ties and lovely girls in formals. Then the traditional waltzes. Dinner of pork (which I skipped), delicious turkey, potatoes (this is Peru) and a salad. Sarah and I had been cutting carrots into tiny cubes for several hours for this salad.

Then the crowd got down to serious drinking and dancing. I should mention that the family had put a net fence around the yard to keep uninvited guests out which meant that on the other side of the fence was half the neighborhood watching. And that drinking here takes place in a circle with one cup passed from person to person along with the bottle of beer so you pour your own. After you drink, you toss any that's left on the ground or floor and pass it on. At one point, Sarah said, "Doesn't this increase our risk of TB?" I could only laugh and say that this wasn't the best time to ponder that. At least in my family circle, people don't hassle me when I want to pass the cup without drinking.

My family has some incredible dancers. One of my host brothers could be dancing in an exhibition group. When he asked me to dance, I just laughed and said I'd have to drop 40 years to keep up with him. But I did dance with many of my host brothers to the cumbia. When they played reggaton, I bowed out.

At midnight, fireworks went off all over town as effigy dolls of last year were burned in the street. These are large dolls filled with firecrackers, dowsed with kerosene and set on fire. Then all the kids run around throwing more firecrackers in the blaze.

My about 4AM people were having trouble navigating the yard. Sarah and I went to my room where I actually fell asleep with the floor vibrating to the music. We got up early and went to the beach with hot tea and terrific birthday cake. After a long walk, Sarah went home and I alternated snoozing with helping in the clean-up. About 10 AM the men started another drinking circle and by 5:30, a fight had broken out in a nearby alley.

So I left the scene and walked to the internet cabina to write the story.

This morning I woke with a knot in my stomach and wave of homesickness thinking, "Two more years is a long, long time, whatever was I thinking". But of course, I'm not living 2 years right now, I'm only living today tired after an all night party!