Adeptly Adapting

Ask any volunteer in Peru the question they hear most often and they will unanimously, resoundingly respond: “Dime, ya has acostumbrado?” This roughly translates into “have you acclimated yet?” My dictionary gives the translation “to accustom,” which I actually didn’t know was a real word. I always translate it in my head as accustumbrate, which definitely isn’t a word. Anyway, there is only one acceptable answer: “Sí, sí. Todo está tranquilo.” Meaning, yes, everything is fine here, I love it, I’m fitting right in. Regardless of whether or not this is true, this is what the questioner expects and wants to hear. They’re not actually concerned with whether or not you’re comfortable – how could you not be? Forget that you’re thousands of miles from home, speaking a different language, living with a family that’s not your own, spending inordinate amounts of time by yourself…no problem, just tell me you love my country. I usually answer without really thinking; I know what they want and I’m happy to oblige. But I was sitting in a drinking circle (shocker!) recently for a friend’s birthday, and looking around I realized with a start that I felt totally comfortable and relaxed. I understood the majority of the conversation, I knew what was expected of me, I was kind of into the gossip because I actually knew who they were talking about…for a fleeting moment I really felt I had accustumbrated. I say fleeting because there are still a million and one things that confound, frustrate and amuse me, but as month four rounds into five I thought I’d reflect on some of the ways I’ve changed and adapted. So here we go, say hello to Peruvian Jess. She’s kind of weird…but always up for a good time.

• I spit seeds, bones or skin onto the floor while sitting at the table. I also flick the backwash out of the glass before passing it to the next person, regardless of where I am. It would be an embarrassing habit in public, but everyone else is doing it too.

• I have perfected the art of Peruvian “participation” in conversations – I adopt a pensive look, throw in the occasional grunt (ehhh, ahhh) of assertion and offer a courtesy laugh every few minutes. This means I don’t actually have to pay attention and can keep my mind clear for daydreaming of Bojangles and Diet Coke.

• I talk about the weather all the time. A sample conversation (literal translation=much funnier):
Me: “Hi, what heat today, no?”
Peruvian: “Yes, the heat is strong.” (fans him/herself)
Me: “Yes, I am hot. I take much water.”
Peruvian: “Is there heat in your country? It’s always cold there, no?”
Me: “Yes, there is heat there. I lived in the South. Much heat there.”
Peruvian: “Oh, what heat today.”
Me: “I know. There is heat.”

• I can lie shamelessly and unabashedly in order to avoid ever saying the word no. My repeat offense stems from the never-ending requests for private English classes. I get at least three new requests a week. My initial strategy was just to talk around the subject and repeatedly mention the schedule for my current classes. But that wasn’t good enough so I’ve adopted a new strategy: vaguely hinting at several new classes beginning sometime next year. According to me, I will be teaching about three hours of English every day. Fat chance. I’m not proud of lying, but it’s just the way things are done here. I’ve found that brutal honesty doesn’t win me any new friends. And I need friends.

• I flick my wrist in an aggressive downward motion to beckon people towards me. I vigorously wag my index finger in front of my face to signify disagreement, a negative response or general disgust. I started using both of these gestures in mocking jest, but now I catch myself using them seriously and with gusto.

• I’m a one-utensil kind of girl – spoon or bust. Even when given the choice of a fork, I’ll choose the spoon. My family used to serve me a fork but after they saw me successfully navigate a spoon a few times, they realized I’m in it to win it and now I too eat my rice and potatoes with a spoon. It was a proud day for me when I sat down to dinner and was handed a spoon without question. No spoon? No problem. Use your hands.

• Arriving late to a meeting, I have no qualms about walking in, greeting everyone and loudly getting myself a chair and/or helping myself to the refreshments. There’s no shame, Peruvians make their arrival known whether they’re ten minutes or an hour-and-a-half late. Which brings me to one of my favorite customs: refresco hour. I love that for every reunión (meeting) – big or small, long or short – we take a break to share some gaseosa and cookies. I’m already scared of our one-year dentist appointment, though I have taken to brushing my teeth like five times a day to combat all the sugary drinks and snacks I consume on a daily basis.

Don't let the red sunglasses fool you, she's more Peruvian than she'd like to admit.

And just so you don’t think I’m super full of myself and my awesome adaptability, here are a few things that I still really suck at:
• Handwashing clothes – every time I pull my t-shirts off the clothesline they’re stiff as a board because I can’t get all the soap out of them. For this reason, I have not washed my sheets in nearly four months. Are you judging me right now? Stop. You don’t know what it’s like.
• Understanding Peruvian jokes – I’ll laugh because everyone else is, but for the life of me I do not understand what is so funny.
• Enjoying Peruvian television – the slapstick humor, the acting, the drama that seeps into real life, the running commentary by my family…it’s just too much for me. So annoying.
• Getting up with the roosters – I hear everyone outside my window getting ready for school or to head to the fields, but it’s hard to motivate myself to get out of bed at 7am when the only thing I have on my schedule is a 3pm meeting. I am very well-rested these days.

What do you think? Will you recognize me in 2011?