Daily Dose

I’ve spent a good deal of time collecting and relating humorous and odd stories to share with my faithful blog followers, and while these stories certainly go a long in defining my life here, they don’t tell the whole story. So I thought I’d take an opportunity to provide some detail on the more mundane of my activities for all you die-hard readers. And to answer a common question I’ve been getting recently: “What is it exactly that you’re doing there?” Truth be told, I’m still figuring that out. It’s only been a couple months, people.

First a few more details about my town (I am buying a replacement camera soon and will post tons of pictures. I know straight narrative, while incredibly informative and witty, gets old after awhile). As I’ve mentioned before, it’s tiny. Huaca Rajada claims 1,000 people but I’m pretty sure that also includes the population of Sipán, a neighboring town (kind of like a Carborro to a Chapel Hill, or a Seabrook to a Kiawah). We have electricity all the time, except when it goes out inexplicably for a few hours, and running water a few hours a day, except on the days when it just doesn’t turn on. Living conditions are pretty basic. There are a lot of families, mine included, that still don’t have indoor bathrooms or plumbing. It’s definitely a poor part of the world, but it’s amazing how quickly you can get used to the physical “hardships” when you don’t have a choice.

My primary project is to work with a group of artisans. There’s a new artisan complex that was completed in early 2009, which is where my group works. There are eight different workshops that vary from honey to leather, and a number of individuals who rent space in the complex to sell their goods, which are more artesian in the traditional sense – ceramics, jewelry, etc. The complex is located just outside a small site museum which houses discoveries from the nearby pyramids, which are still a live excavation site, in order to take advantage of the tourist traffic. The JACA (name of the artisan association as a whole) was only formalized about 8 months ago so there are still a number of growing pains, especially in balancing the individual workshop within the context of a formal association. Group dynamics and conflicts are already proving to be one of the biggest challenges. I’m trying not to get involved with any of the gossip or petty grievances and maintain my role as “consultant,” which can be difficult because I definitely like some people better than others, and can see who is working and who is not. I’m finding that first impressions standfast and it’s hard to undo what I’ve already, however unwillingly, done, which is gravitate toward the most active and friendly people in the complex. I’ve been trying for six weeks now to call a group meeting to start talking about schedules and possible activities, but that so far has been an exercise in futility. So for now, I just kind of hang around and talk to whoever will listen about record keeping, marketing or formalization.

Anyway, I usually wake up around 8 or so, go for a run, eat breakfast on my own, and depending on the length of my run, the weather, and any sort of meeting I might have planned, either rinse off with a refreshing bucket bath or wait around until the water turns on (usually around 10.30am) to shower. I generally spend the late morning in my room, reading, writing or working on various Peace Corps reports/studies. I eat lunch with my family, watch a little of the afternoon telenovela and then spend the afternoon at the artisan complex. My afternoons at the complejo vary – sometimes it’s really busy with a lot of tourists and there’s tons of people of to talk to, other times it’s really quiet and I’ll help my crazy artisan friend make cookies or Popsicles (I’m learning lots of delicious recipes). Sometimes there are random meetings that I’ll sit in on (I was recently forced to stand up and explain “in my own words” my understanding of the swine flu) or I’ll go hang around the museum and talk to the guides. I come back to my house around 5.30 or 6 and read or write in my room until it’s time for dinner. After dinner we watch a little TV. Or more accurately, my family watches a ton of TV and I excuse myself after what I deem an appropriate amount of family bonding time (which is a sliding scale dependent on such factors as: quality of programming, my level of fatigue, the degree of palatability of dinner and/or quality of secret stash of candy left in my room). Once alone in my room I’ll read some more or watch a movie/TV show on my laptop. And then I’m asleep by about 10pm. Wow, actually writing it down makes my life seem pretty lame. But hidden within each seemingly innocuous activity described above are numerous human interactions, daily oddities and countless “ah-ha” moments that make my life here anything but normal.

And then there are all the days where I do crazy stuff or attend “cultural celebrations” (see previous entries). Both my host parents have more than 10 siblings, so when you factor in all the cousins, in-laws, aunts and uncles…well that’s a lot of birthdays. And a lot of birthday parties. Basically it’s a crapshoot as to how each day will turn out. I’ve found that having one thing planned, even if it’s only a tentative agreement to play jacks with the kids outside my window, goes a long way to keeping me sane. I make a lot of to do lists so I can feel accomplished by crossing off brush teeth, for example. Easy win. I’m also implementing a new rule of Spanish vocabulary practice. I feel increasingly more comfortable with my Spanish, but I’m often struck dumb by a limited vocabulary. You know there’s a language barrier when my most complex conversations are the ones I have in my head with characters from The West Wing. In my defense, it’s a smart show.

I also rely on my fellow volunteers for sanity. Phone calls are always welcome interruptions and great ways to remind each other that no, it is weird to be invited to join the Civil Defense Committee or the Town Appreciation Festival Planning Committee. Our occasional weekends in the capital city are much-needed breaks. We trickle in slowly from towns scattered around the department. We arrive dirty and dusty and oftentimes slightly tipsy from whatever family event we’ve been dragged to on our way. We don’t need to tell each other all the crazy things that have happened to us in the intervening weeks. But we do, we stay up late talking and laughing. We share twin beds and boxes of wine and hugs. We recognize in each other the same dazed expressions, similar hopes and fears, twisted senses of humor and a bond born from an intensely emotional and strange situation. It’s a nice reminder that no matter how lonely I might feel, I’m never really alone.

And, of course, there are the amazingly uplifting phone calls, letters and emails from home. You have no idea how much it means to hear from y’all. Your support, your laughter, your stories, your voices…I don’t have the words. Call me anytime. Anytime.

As always, miss you and am thinking of you all.