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!

Christmas in Peru

Well, I’ll remember a Christmas Eve and Christmas Day like no other I’ve ever had! Christmas season started about a week ago when all the children in the area were given toys by the municipality, plastic cars, Barbie type dolls and other plastic toys. Then the major oil company that wants to drill offshore did a toy give away. And throughout the week, there were chocolatatas. At a chocolatata, sometimes small gifts are exchanged but always there’s hot chocolate and panetone.
Christmas Eve day, two of the men in my family were painting the outside of the house with music at high volume. Their choice of music was a station that played old rock songs and since it was impossible to do anything with the music volume so high, I sat outside watching and translating lyrics into Spanish as best I could. You can picture me under a big tree scrambling to keep up with “Hey Jude” and other Beetles songs! My host mother is Jehovah’s Witness so holiday celebrations are not part of her belief system but she does some of the tradition for the family. She sent a family member to get rotisserie chicken for dinner around 10:30 at night which we ate with hot chocolate and panetone. After dinner she and I went walking to find a tienda with red soda to mix with sangria at midnight. This was really an opportunity to see the town late night on Christmas Eve. The streets were packed with kids setting off firecrackers, games set up in the town center and many groups of teens drinking beer. We shared toasts of sangria at midnight and went to bed but the night was punctuated by the incredibly loud sound system of the family across the street drinking hard until after 7AM. Breakfast was more panetone and then I took off to spend Christmas Day with my other Peru family, Peace Corps volunteers. I was breathing a sigh of relief especially since Christmas dinner was going to be pork and I’m determined not to eat pork while in Peru no matter how many assurances I get that this piggie was raised clean and free of cystocytosis.
Sarah, Robyn and I went to Zorritos, about 15 minutes south, checked into a hostel and ate a divine lunch of cerbiche and chicharones (fried mixed seafood). We called Frieda in the province of Ica and sang “Silent Night” on the speaker phone! Then we were joined by another Tumbes volunteer, Michelle who stayed the night as well. We swam in the ocean, called our friends around Peru (we have free calling to anyone in Peace Corps Peru) and compared notes on our experience here. We stayed in a room with a shower, flush toilet and soft, clean bed with the only sound in the night, the surf. I was in heaven my first night from my site for a night in a month. We all had some weepy moments along the way missing our families and our traditions but the ocean and companionship wiped away the blues.

The Grandmother with Itchy Feet

Once upon a time, there was a grandmother who had very itchy feet. She had a lovely home in Wisconsin with good friends and a garden. She had children she loved and the most wonderful grandchildren in the world. But sometimes, her feet got itchy and the only way she could stop them from itching was to travel.
Now this grandmother knew that when she traveled, she wouldn’t see her children and grandchildren for a long, long time. She knew she would be lonely for those little grandchildren so she tried and tried to stay home. But her feet wouldn’t stop itching unless she got on an airplane and went to someplace far, far away. So one day when the leaves were turning gold and the nights were growing cool, she got on an airplane and went to live in Peru which was indeed a long, long way away.
When she got to Peru, she lived in a big Peruvian family with lots of children. Now these children weren’t the same as her grandchildren, but they welcomed her into their home and gave lots of hugs. The children in Peru almost always live in a big family with aunts, uncles and cousins all around. They live in houses close to each other with the doors open all day so they can run in and out visiting.
In the grandmother’s house lived a little girl named Zulay with her brother Germain. Zulay was a beautiful, sweet 8 year old girl with very thick black hair. She loved the beach so every day, Zulay asked the grandmother with itchy feet to go to the beach to play in the sand and water. And in the houses nearby lived Vanya, Brandon and Sophia, little cousins who like to play. The children in Peru don’t have more than one or two toys so they make up games to play with each other with sticks and rocks. They run, chase and play ball for hours every evening. And always they plan soccer or volleyball.
At Christmas time, the grandmother with itchy feet really felt lonely for her grandchildren but she couldn’t come home because she had traveled so very far away. She wanted to snuggle and read stories so instead she wrote stories about her adventure. She wrote about the warm water of the ocean where she went swimming with her friends. She wrote about watching the fishing boats slowly move along the shore every day. She told her grandchildren about watching the fishermen bring in the fish. One day she saw them bring in a very shiny fish called a mirror fish. Grandmother looked very close and yes, she could see her face reflected on the side of the fish.
Grandmother wrote about the birds that fly all around the fishing boats. They are called scissor birds because they have tails that open and close like a pair of scissors. The scissor birds are watch for fish close to the top of the waves and near the boats. They know how to catch fish quickly and gobble them down as they fly. Sometimes they steal fish from other birds like the big brown pelicans who fill their big bills with fish.
The grandmother with itchy feet knew that one day her feet would stop itching and she would come home. Then she would be able to play with her grandchildren again. And if her feet became itchy after that, she would think of places the grandchildren could go with her so they could have adventures together!






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Late afternoon in Tumbes

It’s late afternoon here and a cool breeze from the ocean finally cools off this tropical heat. Midday, I can barely move and drip with sweat as the fierce sun heats up this part of the world. The usual gossip is under the big tree in the yard, my host father is planted in front of the TV and the rest of the family are at their daily game of volleyball, played with intensity and for money.
I really have no idea how to work here but keep stirring the pot to see what happens. I’ve been asked to go to meetings that don’t happen and had unplanned meetings that were really productive. Yesterday I got so tired of kids staring at me that I yelled at them. I was on the front porch, devouring Utne Reader that Helen sent (arrived in 1 week!) and looked up to see a gaggle of little girls staring at me. Now this happens all the time but today I lost it and told them to quit. This caused them to hide around the porch and make weird kid noises until they got bored and left. I realize that we gringos stand out like a beacon light and that of course the kids are curious but yesterday, my patience lapsed and I didn’t want to hide in my room.
My host family has swelled to 11 people with the arrival of the proverbial prodigal son and his pregnant girlfriend so the house is always full of noise and activity. After several days of no water, the water turned on and I had the pleasure of a sponge bath. I’ve learned that it’s always this way at this time of the year when the major portion of available water is diverted to flood the rice fields as they are planted. This will lead to more mosquitoes and an increase in dengue fever.
And just when I was whining to other volunteers on my cell phone (calls are free to other volunteers through a network), I returned home to an incredible lunch made by my host sister. She made a chupe de mariscos (delicious soup with shrimp and poached egg) and a kind of spicy creamed shrimp on rice. All this served with fresh pineapple juice. How much whining could anyone do after this? So I did the only sensible thing and took a nap.
I taught my first yoga class today experimenting with the midwife that I work with at the clinic. Not that I’m a yoga teacher, I just did what Iris has taught me (without being able to say much in Spanish!). But it’s a start and I’ve committed to teach a weekly class in yoga and nutrition for pregnant women in January. Not that I ever know what I’m doing but stumbling along one day at a time.

Disappointment

Well, today we learned that 2 of the volunteers from my group who were assigned to Tumbes are being pulled and sent to another as yet unknown area for their service. They were placed in towns on the Ecuadoran border and it quickly became apparent that this was quite unsafe for any Peace Corps volunteers but especially young women. The So the Peace Corps send their security officer who recommended they be moved. As much as it is a relief to know they will not be in such an unsafe location, the 3 of us in my group who are left in Tumbes are sad to see them go and feel our support system shrinking.

So we went to lunch together, went to the beach, swam in the waves (I'm learning to dive under them as they break) and said a sad goodbye to Georgi and Freida.

Rats.

Sarita