Modern Mascot

(NB, I wrote this post several weeks ago but due to a lot of time in site (see below) and a trip to the Amazon jungle (to be elaborated in a future post), my Internet access has been limited to say the least. Better late than never, right? Enjoye!)

On the heels of my parents’ visit and the subsequent traveling, I vowed to myself to spend a good chunk of quality time in my site. I returned from my respite in the fancy hotels of Peru rejuvenated and inspired to get back to work. Summer vacation is officially over, for both the kids and me. School is back in session and everyone has returned from their summer travels to Lima. Huaca Rajada is back up to full capacity, 724 people to be exact, and it’s feeling a little crowded.

With many hours to fill and nowhere to go, I’ve spent the past few weeks working on several projects, both new and old. I’m excited to have started my classes again – English twice a week and a culture club with kids (as always, teaching tips or cultural ideas welcome!). The costura (sewing) women are developing a new line of products made from an environmentally-friendly canvas/cotton blend, so I’ve been working with them to develop inventory, pricing and coding on the new products. We’re also setting up a new stand to display their work in the complex, which I’m hoping I can use as a starting point for a broader marketing workshop for all the artisans, particularly with regard to stand organization. As it stands now (haha), everyone throws every product they have on a table with a multi-colored tablecloth. It’s not exactly conducive to highlighting the quality of their work. I’ve also been loitering around the school trying to get some ideas off the ground with some professors and students. As always, persistence is key. If nothing else, everyone in this town is used to seeing me hang around.

Enjoying my culinary masterpiece: guacamole.

Some of our new products.

Despite my renewed work ethic, there are still many hours in a day to fill…especially at night. In the past two-and-a-half weeks I have read five books and watched a lot of episodes of Sex and the City, which upon further reflection is a lot like my life in Huaca Rajada. Except instead of the fabulous clothes, I walk around in dirty t-shirts and sandals made of old tires. And in lieu of dining at the hottest restaurants with my girlfriends, I eat giant bowls of rice twice a day with my six-year-old nephew. And as far as hitting the town and meeting beautiful men…well, I sit in my room alone and watch TV shows starring beautiful people on my laptop. But otherwise, really similar.

But more than anything I’ve been spending a lot of time with my host family. And I’ve had a revelation – I am my family’s pet. I follow them wherever they go, trotting behind at a comfortable distance blindly trusting that they will lead me to safety. We go to parties, weddings, church anniversaries, soccer tournaments. I don’t ask questions; they give a little tug on my invisible leash and off we go. Occasionally I do a little trick or say something funny and everyone laughs; their laughter the belly rubs I so desperately crave. They ring the dinner bell and I obediently take my place at the table and wait to be served.

I came to this revelation last Sunday. My host brother was playing in a soccer tournament in Pampagrande, so Papy, Bryan and I went to watch. A couple hours of soccer later – not being the biggest soccer fan, I amused myself by counting the number of times the makeshift stretcher was called to the field, apparently Peruvians make up for what they lack in skill in drama – I was ready to get out of the sun and head home. But Papy felt the need to give a lengthy pep-talk to Pierre’s losing team. Not having anywhere else to go, I stood an awkward 20 feet away from the circle where the players were changing, gossiping and doing things generally reserved for locker rooms. They must have thought I was some sort of mute groupie. Papy finally finished and headed off the field. A few paces later, he remembered me, turned his head and flicked his wrist, I bounded up behind him and we made for home so I could be fed.

What happens to bad pets.

Oh, and this just occurred to me: when we found our new puppy back in December my family wanted to name it Jessica because he (yes, a he) had blue eyes. Or so they said. Perhaps they understood this analogy far earlier than I did. Luckily we decided on Rambo for the dog -- two pets named Jessica would just be confusing.

NB, mascota = pet in Spanish. Hence the title of this post. Witty in two languages. What.

Trading Traditions

It’s the hap-happiest time of the year! Change that to hottest time of the year and you’d hit on the nose for Peru. Seriously, the past week or so, they’ve really cranked up the heat and welcomed summer full-force. My S/. 20 mini-fan isn’t really cutting it anymore. I might have to upgrade to industrial strength if the Peruvian’s warnings are true. Thought I’m naturally disinclined to believe most of what they say about weather, the past few weeks are leading me to think they might be telling the truth when they say that the summer heat reaches unbearable heights. I’m also beginning to understand the beauty and necessity of the post-lunch siesta.

I spent my first Peruvian Thanksgiving (even though there’s no such thing) at a small beach town a couple hours away from site with a few PC friends. It wasn’t the same as being at home but it was lovely in its own right. We played my favorite game of taking turns to say what we’re thankful for, and it seems we can all agree that having a support system of fellow volunteer friends is crucial and special indeed. We then added a Festivus twist and opened the table for the Airing of Grievances. Instead of pointing the finger at each other, we turned our collective critical eye to Peru and Peruvians. It was hilarious and therapeutic. We’re saving the Feats of Strength for New Year’s.

We somehow ended up with a vegetarian meal after we realized that between all the appetizers (guacamole, bruschetta, caprese salad and cheese plate), the world’s largest salad, stuffing (Stovetop – from the States!), about 9 kilos of potatoes (mashed and sweet) and stomachs already full of beer, that we didn’t need a whole bird. It was delicious and communal and we all had to roll ourselves away from the table…so a success! Highlights included watching my friends peel 9 kilos of potatoes with a serrated butter knife (I supervised), having to “borrow” the hostel owner’s stove, eating raw vegetables, and a pre-dinner walk on the beach.

The potato peelers.

Also a highlight: trying to explain Thanksgiving to my host family. I started out by just telling them it was a day that we gave thanks for all the people we loved, to which they replied, “oh, yeah, we have that too – the día de amor in February.” I explained that no, the día de gracias was different and that we have Valentine’s Day too. This devolved into a holiday quiz, each family member taking turns yelling dates and holiday names at me and asking if those holidays are celebrated in the States. Trying to get back on subject, I tried to act out a simplified version of the Pilgrims and Indians, only to realize that I actually wasn’t clear on the origins of Thanksgiving, let alone how to translate it into Spanish. This turned into a rudimentary history lesson on Christopher Columbus, which got even more confusing when I tried to explain that he actually didn’t discover North America and was nowhere near Plymouth Rock. Eventually I just left it at sharing a special meal with friends or family. Once I told them I was going to cook, they forgot everything else and laughed at what I’m sure they imagined to be a disaster. I’m keeping my mad culinary skills a secret for now…I’m a little intimidated by the whole open-flame cooking thing.

So here we are in December and besides feeling nothing like Christmas (see paragraph one), it looks nothing like Christmas either. No wreaths or icicle lights here in the campo. What have come out in full force, though, are panetones, which are basically a Peruvian version of fruitcake, but from what I can tell so far, decidedly more popular than fruitcake. They’re also shaped like giant muffins instead of rock-hard bundts. My friend Katie works at a bakery in her site so I’ve already been the lucky recipient of a few mini-panetones. Not really my favorite things, but hey, give me a few more and I’m sure they’ll grow on me.

A few days ago one of my artisans put up a Christmas tree at the artisan complex. Obviously we don’t really live in the right climate for evergreens, but this did not damper the famed Peruvian resourcefulness. We wrapped some tinsel around the branches, wrapped up a few empty coffee cans in paper and bam, our own Charlie Brown Christmas tree here in Huaca Rajada. My mom sent some U.S. decorations down (so far only one box has made it, but we’re hopeful the rest will arrive before Dec 25), so I taunted everyone with promises of decorations from the United States. Unfortunately I made the mistake of emptying out the package all at once, so in typical Peruvian fashion the few people that were there took all of the stockings and decorated one for every family member. I managed to rescue a few to ensure at least a few families were represented. But all in all, they were a huge hit. Thanks, mom!

Decorating our stockings.

I’m sad not to be with my family and friends over the holidays, (I’m especially bummed to miss my favorite December event – the office holiday party) but there’s something really cool about learning new traditions firsthand. I again count myself extremely lucky to be living in a country with such generous and open people. I know that whatever the celebrations include I will be welcomed with open arms.

In case I’m not able to post another blog before the New Year, I want to wish all you readers (all five of you) a very happy holiday season. I miss you all mucho, mucho, mucho. I hope 2010 sees you planning a trip to Peru!