Jumpin' July

In an effort be a better blogger, I'm summarizing an entire month in order to get caught up and pave the way for more, better and funnier blog posts. Plus, I can't pass up a double-J alliterative title.

July has been somewhat of a whirlwind month, mainly because I've been traveling a fair amount. The month started off with a trip to Huaraz, Ancash to celebrate July 4th with some other volunteers. Ancash is home of some of the world's best trekking and climbing trails. It is absolutely gorgeous -- stunning glacial lakes, soaring Andean peaks, lots of outdoorsy backpacker types, and some truly delicious cafes. Steph and I decided ahead of time that we were in the mood for a true vacation; no more extreme adventure trips...for now. Mission accomplished. In Peru's premier activity spot, we participated in exactly one activity: a three-hour horseback ride through the mountains. To be fair, I was sore afterward so I'm pretty sure that counts as strenuous exercise. We spent the rest of the time in the aforementioned cafes, eating tasty American breakfast treats, sipping on real coffee, reading, doing puzzles and playing Trival Pursuit. It was perfect.

Mt. Huascaran, the highest peak in the Andes, as seen from a great distance.

The horse whisperer, Peruvian edition.

We celebrated July 4th in true Peace Corps style -- a bunch of loud volunteers taking over an unsuspecting Peruvian bar. We made friends with the DJ, played our favorite American classics (including Lady Gaga, obvi) and danced the night away. We made sure to acknowledge the special day by talking incessantly about our favorite foods from home. Yep, get a few over-carbed, under-proteined gringos together and the talk inevitably turns to food.

After spending an uneventful week or so back at site, it was time to hit the road again. This time I was headed north of Chiclayo to a town called Olmos to participate in a leadership camp for teenage boys. Each volunteer is to bring a few boys from their communities to participate in the event, which involves lots of team-building activities, self-esteem workshops, sexual health classes, and a chance to meet other kids from all over the region. In short, it's a really cool (and free) experience for the kids. Sadly, the boys I was supposed to bring backed out at the very last minute -- literally, I was on the bus waiting for them and they never came -- which left me more than a little annoyed. One of the most frustrating things about my work is here is the lack of follow through. I mean, if you're going to turn down a free two-day camping trip, how are we ever going to move forward? But I went anyway and had a lot of fun just watching the other kids. We had a similar camp for teenage girls back in February, which my girls actually participated in, and loved.

The infamous condom race...preventing teenage pregnancy one banana at a time.

Despite the disappointing turn of events, I kept my spirits high because I was headed to Lima to pick up my little sister! Emily arrived to spend about 10 days following her big sister around Peru. It was a great trip! I've asked her to write a guest blog entry to give her perspective of our time together, which I hope to be able to post in the next few days. So stay tuned for that!

Sisters!

In the meantime, a brief overview of our Peruvian adventure: spent a few days in Lima, checking out some of the main sites, eating decidedly non-Peruvian food, and shopping for bootleg DVDs. From Lima we embarked a long and multi-stop journey to the extreme north of the country for a couple days in the cool, hip beach town of Mancora. From Mancora, we took another bus (Emily realized that she, in fact, wasn't the biggest fan of Peruvian public transport) south to Chiclayo so she could see my town, meet my family and get a taste of the campo life. Obviously, there was a lot more to our trip, but I don't want to steal her thunder. We'll post more details later.

Which one of these is not like the others...

In short, it was fantastic to see my baby sis, show her around, hear about her life, listen to her observations on Peru and Peace Corps and to simply spend time together, laughing and opening up in a way that's only possible with those people you've known forever. I am so so happy she came, saw and semi-conquered. Em, I miss you already!

Despite a couple of hiccups, July was a good month for me. A much-needed good month. I'm always excited to see more of this amazing country, and to have someone I love with me for some of these journeys certainly added to my enjoyment. Playing tour guide is a great way to remember the reasons why I really do love this country, and the many, many ways it makes me laugh. At the end of the day, finding the humor in this whole crazy experience is the best way to stay sane.

Up next: a few weeks working hard in site and then headed to Cuzco/Machu Picchu at the end of August with the next round of visitors. Thanks for reading this blog, stay tuned for more -- I promise to update more often! Comments are great ways to motivate me to update! Miss you all mucho.

Still Standing

Apologies for the lapse in posting. I think I’ve said before that I don’t want to use this blog as a public platform for complaints, negativity and insight into my schizophrenic emotional breakdowns, so I try not to post in the middle of such breakdowns. Which is a long way of saying that it’s been an up-and-down couple months. It’s hard to explain the frustration that comes with watching good idea after good idea fall into the “Little Project That Could But Won’t Because of Lack of Follow Through” category. I gave up my life, or at the very least put it on hold, to come here for a variety of reasons, many of which were selfish. But one driving reason was a desire to do something different, something for the greater good, as cliché as that might sound. And also a belief that I was somehow qualified to do this thing, whatever it is. As one failed project rolls into another, it’s hard to keep motivation high and it becomes harder to justify my presence here. That’s not to say that I am unhappy, but I feel like I’m taking so much more than I’m giving.

That’s the abridged version of what’s been going on with me, at least internally. I’m happy to say that I’m feeling much more positive about my situation. I have a few small pilot projects in the works that seem promising, which I won’t go into detail about for fear of jinxing them. I continue to build and strengthen a few meaningful relationships with people in my town, relationships that, at the end of the day (or two years), will do more to define my time here than any project I could hope to develop.

My buddy, Violeta

Case in point: meet my friend Violeta. She’s 42, has two grown children and one grandson. She sells artisan products at the museum complex. She was one of the first people I met and has never failed to make me feel at home. Despite never having traveled much further than Chiclayo, she has a tacit understanding and empathy for what it must feel like to be so far from home. She talks to me like a real person, asking my opinions on anything from fashion to politics to marketing strategy. She is always giving me little trinkets from her stand; friendship bracelets, rings, perfume samples. She invites me to her house for lunch where she feeds me really good food and then lets me take a nap on her couch in front of the TV. In short, she is amazing – this nurturing and fun hybrid of a girlfriend/aunt/mother. I like to think I’m teaching her things or opening her eyes to a broader understanding of the world, but I’m pretty sure I’m getting the better deal out of this relationship. For someone who spends so much time alone, the power of a kind word or an unexpected hug can not be overstated.

I am also so lucky to have my host family, who puts up with my unpredictable stomach and/or appetite, who leaves me alone to read for hours in my room but somehow intuits when I need company, who invites me everywhere and who has opened my eyes to a whole new dimension of generosity. And what would this whole experience be without my hilariously witty and insightful volunteer pals? They remind me that anything can be dealt with if you just laugh at it and inspire me to “just keep swimming.”

Some of my very favorite people

AND…drum roll…I’ve made it a YEAR! Yep, June 6th marked the one-year anniversary of my arrival in Peru. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been here forever and sometimes it seems like mere weeks. It’s been a whirlwind year. I’ve lived through more once-in-a-lifetime experiences than I though was possible, some of which I’ll be glad never to repeat – namely that 18-hour canoe ride. I wish I had some clever turn of phrase to summarize this year, but so far this experience has proven impossible to summarize or neatly package. Suffice to say it’s been a year of contradictions and a year of learning. I’m looking forward to seeing what the next year brings; hopefully plenty more blog material at the very least. But for now, I’ll just say that I’m proud to have made it this far, still standing.

Happy July 4th weekend!

Mamma Mía

To those of you who follow this blog (all five of you), it will come as no surprise that Peruvians love any excuse for a party. Mother’s Day was no exception. Before I tell my tale, I would like to give a special shout out to my real mom – I wish I could have been with you on Mother’s Day. I miss you and I love you.

Mama numero uno, Liz.

Mama numero dos, Lucha.

Our celebration began on Friday with a trip to Saltur for the school’s Día de la Madre celebration. The show included a number of dances and performances, including poetry, by the students. But the big moment was when they handed out the canastas of prizes for a few lucky moms. Bryan’s mom Cinthya (my host sis) is now working in Chiclayo so she couldn’t make the party. Right before the drawing, Lucha (my host mom) had to duck out to attend an Avon conference. Papy leaned over and asked if I would escort Bryan if they called his name for anything. Not really sure what that meant, I of course said yes. Immediately after this mumbled conversation, we hear Cinthya’s name being called. Everyone around me starts shoving me and yelling for me to go up there. Turns out we won the goodie bucket and I had to go up and collect it, in front of everyone. Like several hundred people. There were a lot of confused people in attendance as Bryan and I sauntered up to collect the Mother’s Day prize. Skip to a few minutes later when there is another raffle for the moms. Lucha had handed me her ticket before she left asking me to collect the prize if she won. Well, guess what? We won. Back to the stage goes the gringa to collect her second Mother’s Day prize. Needless to say, my family got a big kick out of this. And several people asked me if I was Bryan’s mother. I’m still not sure if I should be insulted.

The stage where I received my prizes.

A portion of the entertainment.

After the show was over, and a very pleased Lucha returned to discover her loot, we headed to a restaurant (I know, crazy times) for a little snack. Papy then informed me that he had scored us invitations to the post-party luncheon for all the teachers. He’s the president of the PAFA (kind of like PTA), so he’s got friends in high places. On to our second lunch of the day! And I had been fed a sandwich at the school (only the moms got sandwiches -- I think Peru is trying to tell me something). Anyway, off we go to the private staff party. Papy was clearly disappointed by the lack of enthusiasm shown by the teachers, who were busily sucking down Pisco Sours and exchanging gifts, so he arranged for a little speech, as Papy is prone to do. His speech turned out to be an introduction of me, meaning I in turn had to make a little speech. I mumbled some variation of my usual “Hi, I’m Jessica. I live and work here. I also work for the U.S. government. Hopefully we can work together. Yes, I’m single. No, I don’t want to marry your son/cousin/nephew/brother/husband. Thank you so much for having me.” Business taken care of, we turned up the music and started dancing. I think I left the party with a few new friends, or at least I took it as a good sign when several teachers asked me when I was coming back.

Teachers fleeing after my ¨speech.¨

We had plans to leave bright and early Sunday morning for Pacherrez, where the majority of Lucha’s family lives. At dinner on Saturday night Lucha asked me what time I would be waking up the following morning. Unsure as to what was the correct response, I hesitantly said 8am. After a few whispered sentences, she and Papy decided I could come later, at 9am. Clearly this was going to be a big day.

I arrive around 10 the next morning with Pierre, Cinthya and some random dude with a car. The majority of the women were already in the back getting lunch ready. Luckily I got there just in time to participate in the killing of the three ducks. A quick snap of the neck, a precise knife strike to the jugular and the deed is done. My job consisted of de-feathering the steamed ducks. I lasted about 20 minutes before the elders decided that I was slowing them down. So I took up my usual spot, in the corner with the men, passing around a bottle. Despite my brief appearance, I’m pretty sure I made my grandmother’s month. She is incredibly old but surprisingly spritely. Every time I see her she grabs my cheeks and pets my hair and mutters incoherently about “mi gringita.” After the duck incident, she really took a shine to me and would turn and stare at me every so often and then burst out laughing about her crazy gringita. Everyone also got a big kick out of an uncle referring to Lucha as my mother-in-law. Apparently Pierre has been spreading the word around the family that we will soon be married. It’s the joke that will not die. Seriously, Peru what are you trying to say?

So basically the entire day consists of the women preparing an elaborate lunch while the men sit around getting drunk. Good to know that Mother’s Day doesn’t really change anything. Though I will say it was heartwarming to see so much of the family together. A few aunts, uncles and cousins had come up from Lima and everyone who lives in the Chiclayo area was there, probably close to 30 people in total. After stuffing ourselves silly with duck and more duck, I was finally invited to join the cool kids, i.e., all the twentysomething cousins. Usually I get stuck with the adults, which is fine, but I’d secretly been dying to be part of the hip group. Only took me nine months to get in. Who’s cooler than this girl? We hung out in the park, listening to American music, taking pictures and sending the younger kids to fetch more drinks. Out of nowhere the random dude with the car returned to drive us back to Huaca Rajada, where there was to be a baile. A baile just like any other baile – drinking circles and cumbia dancing. The band was a new group formed by some local Huaca Rajadeños, aptly called “Son del Barrio.” I think they still have a few kinks to work out since I heard them play exactly one song and the rest of the music came from a stereo. This serves as an appropriate metaphor for the town itself – we’re trying, sort of. Poco a poco...

Hanging out with the cool kids.