Traveling Tales

Happy 2010! I apologize to my faithful followers for the long absence; I’ve been surprisingly busy over the past month. Mainly due to travel, but hey, busy is busy. So my first Peruvian Christmas has come and gone. It was…interesting. I’m glad I was here and experienced something new but it was definitely hard to be away from my family and friends. My host family was, as usual, wonderful about including me in the celebrations, limited though they were. Peruvians celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve, so we had a traditional dinner of turkey, cheese, empanadas and panetón (dry Peruvian fruitcake. I’ll be happy to never eat another piece again) at midnight on Christmas Eve. At the stroke of 12 everyone jumps around yelling, toasting, hugging and setting off fireworks. Papy made a sweet toast about welcoming a new member to their family. I think I held on a little too long during the round of Christmas hugs – it just felt so good to be wanted and loved. After dinner the celebrations started full swing…sort of. There was to be a DJ dance party in the plazuela outside my house. The music started on time (about 1.30am) but no one seemed ready to leave their houses and start dancing. So we waited and waited and waited. Finally at about 3am people started entering the dance. Exhausted after all that waiting (plus the pre- and post-dinner drinking circles), I slipped into my room to use the bathroom, lay down in my bed and never returned. I could hear the party going until about 7am and when I emerged from my room at 9 on Christmas morning there were still several drinking circles going strong.

Christmas Day was kind of a bummer. Everyone was either still incredibly wasted or passed out from the previous night’s revelry. I did a lot of reading that day. They literally don’t do anything for Christmas Day, at least not here in Huaca Rajada. Luckily I had a few days at the beach with all my friends for New Years to look forward to, otherwise I think I might have snapped. New Years was incredible – I spent a few days at a beach town near the Ecuadorian border with some of my favorite people. Sun, sand, tropical drinks and lots of laughs – what more could you ask for. It was the perfect antidote to the lonely Christmas week. It’s crazy to think that people I didn’t even know a year ago have become so important to me in such a short time. I wouldn’t be having near as much fun without them.

Christmas dinner table

The fam at Christmas dinner

Some friends with their nativity scene

I also spent a week in Lima recently for an in-service training event. The trainings were…how do you say...dull? But it was great to see all the other business volunteers from my group and hear about their sites. The highlight was definitely spending time with them and exchanging stories about all our crazy Peruvian adventures. That and Papa Johns. Oh, Lima, you tease me with your delicious U.S. delicacies.

Arriving back in site I was quickly reminded that Lima is not the real Peru. No, no, the essence of Peru lies in the desert campo town of Huaca Rajada. Where pigs roam the town on their afternoon walk, where you’re just as likely to see a goat outside your window as a dog, where children climb through your window as you’re changing, where you’re served French fry omelets for dinner, and where everybody knows your name. I was repeatedly greeted with “Oh, Jessica, where have you been? Are you leaving us? We miss you. Please don’t leave. We miss you.” Peruvians have turned guilt trips into an art form. You don’t even realize they’re doing it until you walk away feeling sad and ashamed.

Pigs out for an afternoon stroll

I got back to my house early one Sunday morning after a long, hot, uncomfortable overnight bus ride. Wanting nothing more than to sleep in my own bed, I quickly greeted my family and headed to my room. They told me they were headed to Pacherrez (a town about 45 min away) for lunch with my mom’s family and I was to meet them over there when I got up. This is a typical Sunday activity so when I finally roused myself from my bed (driven out mainly by the heat as opposed to any actual motivation to be active) at 3pm, I figured it wasn’t worth it to make the trek over there since they usually come back around dinner time anyway. A couple hours later I start receiving frantic calls from my host brother. Explaining, for the fifth time, that I was tired and resting, I was a bit confused by the ruckus in the background. Finally I agree to head over there. I wait for the combi for half an hour, all the while being attacked by the vicious evening mosquitoes, get on a nearly empty car, freak out when it pulls over in the middle of nowhere, drops off the driver, leaving me alone with the 15-year-old cobrador-turned-driver. Luckily we made it safely and I rolled up into a full-swing pollada party. Seriously, my family leaves out the most important details. If I’d known it was a party, I would have been there hours ago! As it were, the party was entering hour seven and I was the only sober person to be found. It was my first experience at a real Peruvian party stone cold sober. Not as much fun. The party broke up about an hour after I got there because all the drunks were throwing bottles at each other. This is usually how and why parties break up here. So we pile into the back of the DJ’s pick-up truck wedged between the speakers for the bumpy midnight rides back to Huaca Rajada. Welcome back to site, Jess!

It’s summer vacation here, so I’m doing a lot of mini-projects with the kids in my town. We’ve formed a culture club and are learning about the U.S. right now (feel free to email me any photos or stories I could share with them about life in the States). I’m still teaching a few English classes a week. And I’m preparing for a leadership camp for girls with some young ladies in my site. And playing a lot of hide-and-seek with my neighborhood posse. Ah, the rough life of a Peace Corps volunteer.

Hope you’re all well and enjoying the new year. I miss you all! Stay in touch!

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?

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!