Happy Thanksgiving from Peru!

I look at this picture and think that the ocean might secretly be filled with chocolate fudge :)


Yes, I spent Thanksgiving on a beach, and I still enjoyed most of the same traditional foods--turkey, sweet potatoes, green beans, mashed potatoes, stuffing, other assorted salads, pies... And the next day we sat in the sand and had turkey and avocado sandwiches for lunch.  Thanks to the SPF 70 sunscreen that my Aunt Mary sent me, I did not burn!  So even though I did miss spending Thanksgiving with my family, you should all be very jealous of the Thanksgiving feast I did get to share with other volunteers and some of their Peruvian host families :)


This was the second Thanksgiving I've spent in Peru, the first being when I was swore-in as a Peace Corps volunteer and we had a party for our host families in Lima.  I'm having some trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that I have been a volunteer for a full year now--so much has happened, and yet it seems to have flown by!  My first site and all the good times (but sadly mostly bad times!) that went down there, and then my site change to Viru, Katherine's and my family's visits, and all of the other traveling I've done are all mixed up in my head as some huge life-changing series of events, although I'm not entirely sure yet how it has changed me.  For a while I know I was much more pessimistic, but now I'm back to being more optimistic, so what's the net change there?  My Spanish is much better?  Maybe when I am back in the States for the holidays I will be able to see more specific differences.


Whatever the outcome of all of this craziness has been, I am overall very thankful for the experience.  I have met a lot of amazing people (hi Greg!) that alone have made some of the worst of what I've experienced worthwhile, and I have gotten to travel high and low throughout a country that has a lot to offer.  I've learned a lot about myself, too, and will learn even more once I put all those pieces together into a more coherent picture.  And I am also very grateful for the family and friends back home that have provided invaluable support--I could not have done this without you!


Happy Thanksgiving from Peru, and I can't wait to see you in person--I'll be back in the States December 14th until just after New Years.  The excitement is making me a little less than productive, so I think now I'm going to go make myself some checklists... :)

A Partial Community Cleanup

Students at the school in San Jose lining up to start the day

"Are you from Spain? Because you talk funny..."


"We´re going to clean up ALL the trash?  In the WORLD?! OK!!" (said by a first grader who was about a foot shorter than the broom he insisted on trying to use, hehe) 


"But you know it is probably going to take a HUNDRED HUNDRED YEARS!"

The best part of today´s long anticipated street cleaning in San Jose was the comments the first graders I was working with made.  They were adorable, and had so much energy!  Due to a rather large broom to student height ratio, I had to do most of the sweeping, but once I filled a dust pan they were very eager to run back and forth to the pile to empty it.

First graders have nothing if not enthusiasm :)

They also didn´t once complain about the municipality´s lack of organization and lack of support because they are making kids and professors do their job for them.  They didn`t cringe when they had to pick up a broom and dust pan.  And neither did I--in fact, I got covered in dirt and dust, most notably being the dirt mustache that stuck to my face, much to the amusement of my host family upon my return!  And they weren´t the ones who forgot to bring garbage bags so that we didn´t have to burn the trash we collected...

The professors who didn´t want to get their hands dirty, the director who totally misunderstood the point of the cleanup, and the parents of over 300 students that we invited to help participate who didn´t show (ONE mother came to help, ONE!)... eh.  They suck.  They are the reason that we didn´t get to half the streets and had to burn our trash piles and I kind of hate them right now.  Grrrrrrrrrr


You can`t win them all...

Day in the Life

Sunday 30 October 2011, 9:30pm

A Boring Day

I wake up whenever I wake up, usually around 7:30am. I might work out, I might watch an episode of 30 Rock (or How I Met Your Mother or Breaking Bad). I might do both. I eat breakfast—oatmeal or bread with some kind of topping, coffee. Meanwhile I leave a large pot of water heating on the stove so that after breakfast, I can take a bath. Everything useful to do gets canceled or was never scheduled in the first place, so I check my email at the library (for 2 hours) and harass Katherine while she is at work. I would call Greg to pass the time until lunch, but he is in America (L) so I watch more 30 Rock instead. Lunch. A nap. 30 Rock. A walk to buy fruit for dinner. I try to get through another chapter of Feast for Crows, but dear God does it pale in comparison to the last book, and I can't call Greg again. Instead I go for an aimless walk and then memorize all of the lyrics to "Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying" by Belle & Sebastian, and journal about how on the 10^th listen, I picked up on how it is actually a very uplifting song. "And then, with a winning smile, the boy/ with naivety succeeds!" I might do some yoga. I start to blog but don't have anything interesting to say. Sleep.

This day has sadly happened many times over, with slight variation (for example, when Greg was still here, I would probably call him 3 times) but less and less so as my work with the Comité de Limpieza Pública (Sanitation Committee) in San Jose picks up.

A Day Bursting With… Waiting

I wake up at 6:30 so I have enough time to work out, breakfast and bathe before my 9am meeting at the Municipality, but hit the snooze button a few times so that I don't have time to work out. Except then I finish everything else by 8:30 and end up waiting around until 8:55 when I can leave for the Municipality without being early. Should I have slept longer or worked out for 25 minutes? I probably should have done both, because the taller on rellenos sanitarios that I was supposed to attend doesn't start until 10. Of course, I really only attended so that I could talk more with the consultant who is doing the garbage diagnostic for the entire province and more concretely worm myself into the project, but afterwards he has to rush off to another meeting.

After lunch, all I have to do is 1) make copies of the survey I need for Sunday, and 2) have someone proofread the invitation I designed for the street cleaning campaign, before making copies of that as well. But after an hour, neither is completed and I'm panicking because it is 3pm on a Friday and people are already starting to leave. Why is it that I am working with the only people in the Municipality who ever seem to be really busy?? After two hours, I have my surveys copied, but only because I twice interrupted Adolfo's meeting with a disgruntled sanitation worker and he sent me across the street to put them on the Municipality's account at the libreria (their own machine was being a brat). After three hours, I am the only one left in the office when Barrantes finally comes back to proofread the invitation. He wants to change the entire thing. He swears that even though Monday and Tuesday are holidays (Day of the Dead), he will fix it himself and have the copies made by Tuesday night so that I can deliver them to the colegio on Wednesday morning (the cleaning is scheduled for Thursday so…). Praying for this to actually happen takes the form of a movie on my laptop, a chicken sandwich con todas las cremas, and an early bedtime.

Hurry up and wait—this was just last Friday, but I have had a lot of similar days in the past, too.

I still do not know if my invitations are finished…. Guess I have to wait until Monday!

A Surprisingly Successful Diagnostic Day

Sunday, the day I finally got my trash diagnostic surveys in San Jose completed, was actually pretty great. The Comité de Limpieza Pública (Sanitation Committee) had found me six girls around 17-20 years old who volunteered to do the survey with me, and I had already met with them to go over the questions.

I leave my house at 7:30am to be in San Jose by 8:00, and they were all there by 8:30 (close enough!), wearing the ridiculous neon orange jerseys Barrantes (my socio at the Municipality for this project) picked out to identify them as part of the committee. In three teams of two, plus me, we finish almost all of the 100 surveys by the time we meet up again at 12:30. Success! The girls decide that they would rather finish the remaining surveys before breaking for lunch—I stay behind to read over the ones they have already done in case I have questions about their handwriting. I am thrilled to find that my team of jovenas has done an excellent job answering all of the questions, and based on the number of "No sé"s written next to the question about what diseases can be caused by burning trash, they did not give people answers. They listened to me when I told them not to! The ensalada on the plate: I am invitar'd to some surprisingly delicious potatoes with rice and lots of literal salad on top, so I don't have to buy lunch!

I'm home by 2:00 and spend the next hour doing laundry (including those absurd jerseys, since I feel bad already about how much work Rosalía is already doing without compensation—they make the clothes line on my roof GLOW!). I'm in a good mood, so I don't really notice I'm tired until after I've talked to my neighbor for an hour about what I'm working on and heard his opinion on everything from development work to oil made from some kind of nut in the jungle that cures allergies, and my Spanish starts to majorly suffer because, man, I've had a long day in the sun. I celebrate with a bath and by buying Edam pre-sliced cheese (it's a treat because it costs 3 soles, mantequeso only costs 1 but isn't as… cheese-like). Mom calls me from America, and then I eat mini cheese and tomato sandwiches--it is probably good that I didn't have any basil or they would have been too amazing for me to handle after such a great day.

(Actually I really wish I had remembered to get basil…)

And now here I am blogging, glad that I can wrap this blog post up with a good day after its rather dim beginning. Sweet dreams!

10 Reasons Why Seeing Aerosmith in Lima Doesn't Mean We Left Peru for the Night

Seeing Aerosmith last night was (well, besides pretty freakin' awesome) like a little slice of America down here in Peru--almost.

1. Pre show, the best part of my day was befriending a cat in Parque Kennedy. He jumped into my lap!!

2. Walking towards the stadium, we were harassed by countless people selling unofficial merch and successfully bartered to get 2 tshirts for 30 soles. We also bought 2 cans of warm beer from... some random dude.

3. Most aggressive ticket scalpers ever! "Entradas entradas entradas! Here, let me wave them in your face some more in case you didn't hear me the first 10 times!" Why would I be continuing to walk towards the door if I didn't already have a ticket?!

4. Steven Tyler opened with, "Bbbbbuenas noches Limaaaaaaa!" and I believe attempted to say something else in Spanish that I didn't understand. He made a few other comments in English, but mostly just avoided the whole talking thing--I was very OK with this!

5. The crowd is not a sea of lighters/cell phones during romantic songs, but video camera lights throughout the entire concert--by today I bet there are already videos on sale in all the markets and families have relived the entire thing several hundred times. I would have brought my camera but since I wasn't sure how crazy it would be, I didn't take anything except a few bills I stuffed in my bra :) Turns out it was pretty chill... ah well.

6. During "Walk This Way," a random dog wandered down our aisle...

7. ...followed shortly by a vendor yelling, "Salchichas salchichas papitas papitas salchichas papitas!"

8. There was a woman selling toilet paper outside the bathroom for 50 centimos.

9. Leaving the stadium we were greeted by a sea of combis, cobradors yelling where they would take us once they could get out of the horrific traffic jam (we just walked out of the craziness and found a cab instead).

10. As soon as we got into the cab, we were assaulted with Peruvian cumbia music again. Sadness.

Also, in case anyone was wondering, Steven Tyler can, in fact, still sing pretty damn well. Something sounded a little off during "Sweet Emotion," but I am pretty sure it was something with a speaker or guitar, not his singing. And he looks eerily similar to how he looked years ago--eerie meaning Botox. Lots and lots of Botox :)

Occupy Wall Street: What is the point, exactly?

I have been casually following what is going on with the Occupy Wall Street protests via Reddit—hipster punk girl posts a picture of herself getting arrested, yay!  And I hear tales of shirtless hippies with drums and overworked police officers from my eye witness into Manhattan, the lovely Katherine.  And I do see that is it doing some good.  The way the movement is spreading, the protest has so much volume that people cannot help but listen, finally drawing attention to some of the more important issues worth making noise about.

 

But I cannot figure out who is in charge over there.  More importantly, I cannot figure out the main point of these protests—probably because there isn't one?

 

I get it: times are difficult, policies that favor the wealthiest 1% of the population and ignore the rest are unfair, change is needed.  Obama told us that "Yes we can!" except we don't even have jobs.  It sucks, and the "We are the 99%" slogan is a great way to draw attention to that.  So I agree that protesting is necessary, don´t get me wrong.  I´m just not sure that this is the best we can do.

 

Imagine that you are the boss of a small company, and one of your better employees comes to you one day to complain.

 

Employee:  Boss, I am getting frustrated. 

Boss:  Really?  What's wrong?

Employee:  I go home every day with a headache and I am not sure that I enjoy my job anymore.

Boss:  Wow, sorry to hear that.  Is there anything I can do to help?

Employee: …

Boss:  Anything?

Employee: …

Boss:  Well, I am sorry to hear that you are frustrated.  Now please let me get back to work, I am a busy man.

 

As the boss in this situation, your employee does not really give you anything to work with—he came to complain, but not with a solid complaint.  You know he has a headache, you know he is frustrated, but since he hasn't given you anything concrete that you can do to help, and you are too busy to continue questioning him, you will likely do… nothing.  His headache can suck it up.

 

Now, the government shouldn't need explicit directions from its people on how the country should be run—that's their job.  But what if they aren't following through with what we elected them to do?  Then I believe it is the people's responsibility to speak up.  Protest our little hearts out. 

 

But like the aforementioned boss, our elected officials are busy people.  They are not going to risk having objects and insults thrown at their faces to go ask the protesters, "Excuse me, I see you want some change, but what change, exactly, are you looking for me to make?"  Just complaining isn't enough, you need to make a complaint.

 

An essential part of a successful protest is a clear, specific goal.  Of course, any protest is going to attract the crazies—but so long as there is an inescapably clear complaint being promoted, the anarchists and the hippies playing drums in the background won't seem as absurd, and may actually be helpful.  The noise they make will put more force behind the point, rather than dominating the entire protest.  America has seen enough loosely conglomerated protestors on the part of the Tea Party, and my fear is that the OWS movement could be labeled as the equivalent, albeit on the opposite end of the spectrum.

 

A great Op-ed piece in the NYTimes recently commented: "A better critique of the protests is the absence of specific policy demands. It would probably be helpful if protesters could agree on at least a few main policy changes they would like to see enacted. But we shouldn't make too much of the lack of specifics. It's clear what kinds of things the Occupy Wall Street demonstrators want, and it's really the job of policy intellectuals and politicians to fill in the details."  (http://www.nytimes.com/2011/10/07/opinion/krugman-confronting-the-malefactors.html?_r=2&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss).  

 

I respectfully disagree.  Americans are smart people, and while noise is helpful, I believe that offering a smart solution would put the Occupy Wall Street (and Chicago and New Orleans and everywhere else) protestors miles ahead of their nemeses in the Tea Party.  For example, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau is currently being blocked by Republicans—push for that to be resolved.  The repeal of the Glass-Steagal Act effectively removed the separation between investment banking and commercial banking, which is what allowed commercial banks to "gamble" with peoples mortgages in the first place—push for that to be reinstated.  I see these issues showing up more and more, which is a step in the right direction, but more focus would be helpful.

 

So OWS, I am a little disappointed in you so far, and hope you continue to really zero in on the actual solutions that you are demanding.  You are certainly drawing attention to some important issues, and I give you credit for your volume, but I don't believe that pointing at the problem is enough—you need to ask for something concrete, some kind of solution.  Otherwise all you are doing is asking the media to parade the crazy side of Liberal all over the headlines and annoying the crap out of anyone living in Lower Manhattan.

Figuring out the "Why" of Huamanchuco´s Festival de los Negritos

I spent the last 5 days up in Huamanchuco with Greg, first visiting the baños termales (hot springs) in Yanasara, and then staying in Huamanchuco itself for the Festival de los Negritos. 

Yes, Festival de los Negritos translates to the "Festival of Black People."  And it really does involve kids and adults alike painting themselves face, hands and feet in black paint and dancing around the city.  I am still trying to figure out where it came from.  Last week I posted a link on Facebook/Google+ to the Wikipedia page about the Festival de San Blas in Spain--it was at the time the only information I could find that remotely explained why, in a sierra town where there probably isn´t a single black person, this tradition might have started:  In Spain, according to legend (according to Wikipedia), there was once a family of 7 brothers who came to dance at the Festival de San Blas and beg for money. After 16 years doing 16 different dances, they apparently ran out of dances and decided to instead paint their faces black to avoid recognition (because that makes sense). Now Spain celebrates their dances (in blackface) the 2-3 of February, and apparently Huamanchuco, Peru does the same on October 4th.  (http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Negritos_de_San_Blas)

But then on Sunday, I had lunch with Greg´s family and other Huamanchuco volunteers, and from what they have gathered, this festival is completely separate from Spain´s (there are TWO blackface festivals in the world?!).  For one, it coincides with the festival for San Francisco de Asis (not San Blas), hence the difference in dates.  And according to Huamanchuco´s legends, there was once a slave who died, and then came back to life with a rose in his mouth, the symbol of San Fran himself.  How the slave died, and why the saint chose this particular slave to resurrect, remains a mystery to me, but whatever the reason, the memory of this miracle is still celebrated during his festival.  

Once I got over being horrified by the thought of what would happen if anyone tried to replicate this in the United States, the costumes were pretty intense.  There was a whole parade of students dressed up as San Francisco de Asis (with black and white saintly-looking robes), barefoot and painted black from head to toe, dancing around the plaza.  Earlier in the day, they had "painted" giant murals on the streets around the plaza with colored sawdust and fresh flowers, and unfortunately the parade went right through them and destroyed the drawings before I could get a picture.  You´ll just have to take my word for it that it was pretty neat.

Of course, something that Greg and I ate in Yanasara (or was it the street gelatina we had right before we left?) made me sick, so I spent most of the actual festival day in the hotel, sneaking out to watch the parade from the balcony for all of 2 minutes.  Such is the life of a PCV :)

Caffeine in my Coffee

I was drinking my coffee this morning and wondering if all this time I've been drinking decaf. Someone switched it on me and I never noticed until I started to miss the feeling of flying, higher and higher, onward and upward…

There is a numbness that happens down here sometimes. Or I suppose it could happen anywhere, and has probably happened to me before when I spent college writing paper after paper on topics I don't even remember, and will happen to me again when I become the illustrious paralegal slash office bitch, or something. But it feels new every time, and just today I got this idea that being a little numb feels like someone stole the caffeine out of my coffee.

Yesterday I went all the way to Chao—well, I say "all the way" like it is some incredible distance when really it is only half an hour by combi, but going there did mean I did not have time to work out that morning, which makes me grumpy. I was supposed to meet with Juvenal, the environmental engineer I'm working with for the biohuerto in Buena Vista. The day before he had confirmed twice that he would be there. And of course he wasn't. He was in Buena Vista working on the biohuerto and would be there all day, something that continues to puzzle me since the secondary students don't start class until 12:30. What the heck was he doing all morning?! I got to play with Merril's dog instead of finalizing the quiz the students are supposed to take in 2 weeks, which was probably more fun, but not so productive.

And then at 3:00, I met with the Comité de Limpieza Pública in San Jose. My agenda was to do a FODA analysis and read over the survey I wrote (or mostly stole from a manual, one of the several zillion the Peace Corps has given me over the past year). But it was only the presidenta and I—Barrantes from the municipality got a flat tire on his moto, the treasurer was at work, and the rest of the committee has apparently gotten too frustrated with their community's lack of participation that they no longer want to participate, either. We edited the survey a bit and talked about our plans for a street cleaning day with the help of the school (and maybe I will do some charlas with them, too) but I didn't really see the point of doing a FODA activity with only the two of us.

The day was much less productive than I had anticipated, yet it was relatively busy. Besides being angry at Juvenal, I was in a decent mood. Maybe I was just still happy about editing Pasa la Voz, the Peace Corps Peru magazine, starting next week with a probably poorly timed but nevertheless eagerly anticipated trip to Lima. The magazine comes out twice a year, timed with each group's COS (close of service) dates since a good chunk of it is their "profiles"—each volunteer gets a page with pictures of themselves and their answers to some survey
questions about their service.

Whatever the reason, I got home and checked off "stay past January" on my pros and cons list for the first time this week—mostly because I've been neglecting the list. I've realized that if I honestly were going to quit, I probably would have done so a long time ago. But today even my delicious Oxapampa coffee tastes kind of flat and I find myself hoping I'm not settling by staying where I am. But then, there are so many moody ups and downs here that I guess I ought to be a little numb once and a while to balance it out!

I can feel the momentum building in my San Jose project—the obstacles are definitely there, but they are not insurmountable, and that gives me energy. So does the presidenta, Rosalia. Most of her committee quit, but she hasn't given up yet, so neither can I.

Sin Verguenza: Garbage Collection in San Jose

Last week on Thursday, I followed the garbage truck through San Jose, helping the Comité de Limpieza Pública ("Committee of Public Cleanliness" aka Garbage Collection) collect the 3 soles that people are supposed to pay each month for the garbage collection—the municipality sends the truck and pays the garbage collectors, but San Jose is responsible for the gas, which costs around 75 soles per collection.  3 soles is about the price of a kilo of expensive imported apples, and I do not think it is truly beyond the means of anyone in the community.  Unfortunately for us, paying for garbage collection at all is something very new to the people of San Jose, and the only way to get any money out of anyone is for the committee, made up of entirely of mothers, to donate time they don't have to follow the truck, knock on doors, and argue and plead with people to give up their 3 soles.  They stress and frustration of this weekly exercise has lead 3 of the 6 committee members to quit, and one recently had surgery, leaving me with only 2 members to work with last week.

 

Joining them was a good experience for me, because I got to see how their system works currently—the baseline for my future endeavors—and also learn the extent of the entire community.  It's bigger than I thought.  The fliers we passed out last week estimated 6,000 residents, but the committee thinks that this is a huge overestimate; still, it is probably upwards of 3,000 (I will try to get a more accurate statistic from my surveys), at least 600 families.  If everyone actually pays for the collection, they would have more than enough to pay for weekly garbage collection, possibly even bi-weekly (depending on how many families actually live there, a stat I need to get somehow...).  But as it stands now, they do not.  They didn't have enough the last week of August, so this past week they had twice as much garbage.  The garbage truck filled up halfway through the route, so we had to go dump it and come back, which then cost the committee more gas money.

 

So why won't people pay?  My surveys are going to be full of "behavior change"-style questions to try to figure out exactly why, but I'm starting to think that might not be necessary.   I think the following conversation sums it up nicely:

 

I had gotten ahead of the truck and the president of the committee who was with me, and came upon 2 lovely ladies standing with their bags of garbage:

 

Me:  Hello, the tuck is on its way, would you like to pay for the month now?

Ladies:  Ah, señorita, we already paid.

Me:  Are you sure?  We are collecting now for the entire month of September, you may have only paid for August.

Lady 1:  No no no we did.  Ask Rosalia [the president] when she comes.

Lady 2:  Si, we already paid.

Me:  Ok, she's on her way. 

 

[I believed them, some people had already paid, and with her amazing memory, Rosalia would remember]. 

 

Me:  I am new to this [here I explained Peace Corps and what I'm doing].

Lady 1:  Oh, that's wonderful. 

Lady 2:  Yes, the people in San Jose expect everything to be free.

Lady 1:  Yes, they don't want to help their community.  They are bien cochinas, too!  [Slobs, pigs]

Lady 2:  Yes, and they are sin verguenza when they don't want to pay!  [Without shame]

Lady 1:  Yes yes, sin verguenza! 

Lady 1 [shaking her head vehemently]: Sin verguenza!

 

[In case you can't tell, Peruvians like to repeat themselves a lot]

 

Rosalia [approaching us]: Did they pay and did you write their receipt?

Me:  No, they said they already paid you for September.

Ladies:  Yes, we already paid.

Rosalia [shaking her head]: You paid me for August, and only 2 soles between your 2 separate houses.  For September you need to pay 3 soles for each house.

Me:  [I didn't even know what to say and probably stood their gaping like a fish]

Lady 1:  But the truck didn't come last week.

Lady 2:  Yes, and now look how much garbage we had in our houses?  We will pay you 2 soles.

Rosalia:  The truck didn't come last week because we didn't have enough money to pay for gas.  We didn't have enough money to pay for gas because not everyone will pay 3 soles.

Me:  [finding my tongue for a moment] Yes, if everyone pays 3 soles this month, we will be able to come every week.  It is very important that every house pay 3 soles.

Lady 1:   That is why you did not come last week?  Mmm people are so stingy here, and they are sin verguenza.

Lady 2:  Yes, they are all sin verguenza.

Lady 1:  Sin verguenza…

  

At this point, the phrase "sin verguenza" was echoing in my head and starting to hurt.  I had to just walk away, lest I start yelling at them in English (sadly, my Spanish is still not quite good enough to really bitch someone out) or die of incredulous laughter.  Rosalia caught up with me, 2 soles in hand, still shaking her head and also laughing.  By this point, I thought of a few good things to say to them, but it was too late.  Why can't they see that when they complain about cochinas who are stingy and won't pay and have no shame they are talking about themselves?!  AHHH!

 

Finding a way to inflict some friendly shame on this community might just be the key I need to get their garbage collection in order.

In Which I Pretend to Be a People-Person

Who would have thought that I would ever feel like a people-person? Not me!

I guess this is not the first of the “who would have thought?” statements I’ve made since arriving in Peru, and it’s probably not the last. Who would have thought I’d bathe in a river (and then with a bucket heated in the sun, and then in a cold shower, and then a HOT shower, and then get demoted back to bucket baths)? Who would have thought that the manner and frequency of my personal grooming habits alone would tell a story (of too many host families, mostly)?

Anyway. I must have some love in my heart for the human race, since I thought it would be a good idea to fly down here and try to help its progress. But I have never (ever) thought, “Hey! Social butterfly here, time to surround myself with crowds of adoring fans and huggle them to death!” (ahem… Katherine…;). I like certain persons, I don’t… actually like people. They have cooties or something.

Which is why I am pleasantly surprised at how much I already love my new host family.

In case you haven’t been diligently keeping track of my movements, this is host family number four. I had two in my first site, Buena Vista—my first host dad passed away and his wife moved back to Lima, so I had to move. Then things in Buena Vista weren’t avanzar-ing and I moved to Viru, the provincial capital about an hour from Buena Vista, in early July (although shortly afterwards spent almost a month traveling, so I have only actually been in site here for about a month).

My new host family was alright at the beginning—at first I was ready to forgive them anything for their hot shower! That is, until I realized that they didn’t usually turn it on for me, and in general were nice but not very interested in really making me part of the family. They managed to hide their washing machine from me for almost a month, too. Now, I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer. I do not expect hot showers or washing machines. But the fact that they had them and didn’t want to share, on top of not inviting me to join them for much, made me feel like they didn’t really want me there. Or maybe my host mom did, but not her sister-in-law (who I am 90% sure tried to steal my socks off of the clothesline), or her daughter (who mostly just jumped in with “You’re going to wash that plate and turn off the lights, right?” rather than actually talking to me).

Rather conveniently, then, another family member is moving back into the house and needed my bedroom (ex-husband, I believe, but that doesn’t make much sense?). So, time to move again!

I will be honest and say that rather than move, I considered quitting completely (and am still considering leaving after December). For one, moving is freaking stressful. Additionally, despite how much bigger and better Viru is as a site, I am not entirely sure that this is what I want to be doing. At this point, if I’m not happy with my work, it’s not the site—it’s me. Sometimes rather than personal growth, all that is happening to me here is that I am becoming more and more pessimistic and suspicious of people (especially men), and it’s making me even LESS of a people-person!

And do I even like the work? I’m not sure, but if I have to have a job I don’t really want, I’d rather have it back in the States with my friends and family around (and real money might help!). Or I could have a job I do want. I could be working as a paralegal and figuring out if I want to go to law school, which would also be productive, if not thrilling. Or I could be working for another development agency that actually takes development a bit more seriously. Peace Corps is apparently way more about Goal 2 and 3, which is not why I applied (remember how I don’t actually like people but still want to help them? Cultural exchange is great, but as a non-people-person, I’m much more interested in Goal 1--the projects).

Or is this a job I do want? Once upon a time, Peace Corps was all I wanted, but now I waver. I have a whole list of reasons to stay and another of reasons to go, and I read them almost daily (sometimes 3 times) and go back and forth and have started adding tally marks next to my preferred choice every day to see how I feel in the long run. A big deciding factor for me is going to be how things go with my new host family.

Which is why I am very excited to report, 3 days after my move, how well it is going so far! I’m living with my host mom, Juliana, her mother, and 2 sisters in their twenties, Lourdes and Joely. And of course 2 dogs, once of which is an enormous and blind Alaskan husky that tends to walk into chairs. He’s adorable.

I’m so happy to feel like I’m (finally, after almost a year!!!) making some Peruvian friends, things that previously would have driven me absolutely insane (like my host mom insisting on walking me to the combi this morning, or in general my host sisters walking me everywhere) are actually really awesome—I feel like they really want me to be part of their family and I want to spend time with them. This has had the effect of making me want to spend time with people in general. I could have spent all day in San Jose passing out fliers about the new Comite de Limpieza Publica and telling everyone about the garbage collection happening tomorrow, too bad Rosalia had to get back to her kids. I’m psyched to go visit Adolfo and Barrantes at the municipality in a few minutes and figure out what time the garbage truck is leaving for San Jose tomorrow.

Tomorrow, if the driver (who is apparently my neighbor but I haven’t met him yet) is awesome and lets me ring the bell on the truck… z0mg I might die!

Who would’ve thought? Today I feel like a people-person and it feels good :)

Family Vacation to Cusco--Pictures Speak Louder than Words

Our itinerary was something like: Family flew into Lima --> Bus to Trujillo to meet me --> Visited host family in Viru --> Back to Trujillo the same day to sleep and get lost luggage --> Overnight bus to Lima --> Hung out in the Peace Corps Office/Surco before flying to Cusco --> Car to Ollantaytambo and train to Machu Picchu Pueblo (Aguas Calientes) --> Machu Picchu early in the AM! --> Back to Ollantaytambo, back to Cusco, back to Lima --> Family flew back home and I stayed in Lima to then head to Ica for In-Service Training. Whew!

For more pictures, go to: http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.699569969040.2187480.2911230&l=51ff5b8e58&type=1

A Site Change and the Labyrinth of the Peace Corps Perspective

I have only been at my new site for a few weeks, but I already think my site change was probably the best thing that has happened to me since I arrived in Peru. Except sometimes it almost feels like the worst, or at least much more complicated than the good decision that it probably was.

I started out my service eager to start, but a little terrified, too. I quickly found out that very few things were going to work out exactly as planned—I was stood up for a meeting my second day in site and had trouble finding Peruvians who were willing to accompany me to complete my encuestas. Sound familiar? Whether or not you can touch your toes, Peace Corps volunteers are bound to be some of the most flexible people on the planet—it’s a survival skill. And through a cocktail of sheer force of will, a well-stocked external hard drive, and the rare Pinkberry opportunity, we survive and even triumph. We are so, so strong.

Eight months into my service, Peace Corps has already changed my perspective on what is OK (Oh that kid is chewing on a balloon? At least he isn’t sticking his fingers in an electric socket!). For better or worse, I’m not sure I have any idea what “normal” means anymore. So baring a security threat or other major event, how do I know if my daily struggle is a typical part of a very abnormal job, or something that merits a change? We may all threaten to quit after a particularly bad day, but when it comes down to actually deciding to move host families or sites, it is an entirely different game.

* * *

When my APCD visited my site for the first time, I was a little nervous, worrying that the mayor wouldn’t show up to our meeting (he didn’t). But I was relatively content with where I was, so a few days after the visit I was shocked when I got a call from my PCVC Frieda asking me where I stood on my site change. What site change!? I had at that point absolutely no intention of moving. My APCD, however, thought that my site had seemed depressing and that I would likely want to move to a bigger site (which he did not, as Frieda assumed when she called, mention to me during his visit). But the thought had never really occurred to me, especially since Peace Corps is supposed to be really difficult, right?

I kept at it, completed a bunch of surveys (by myself because my socio never did show up) and prepared a pretty kick-ass community diagnostic presentation--which only 5 people showed up to see. Things didn’t really avanzar, work or integration-wise, and on top of that, I wound up having to move host families. I had high hopes that a new living situation (this time with a toilet!) would lift my spirits, but I unfortunately did not connect with the second family very well, either. Then one week my entire town had dark turbid water, and not only did no one besides myself seem to mind that the water was too dirty to drink or even wash, I could not get straight answers or even honest conversation out of the mayor or the 2-man water “committee” that was responsible for the system.

That incident felt like a last straw: I did not want to be at site when my so-called socios wouldn’t even tell me the truth (let alone work with me to fix a very obvious problem), I had very little motivation, and my only project was a secondary one that interested me a lot less than more watsan-related projects would.

But then, doesn’t everyone feel that way sometimes? And they deal. In a job that is far from normal even when it is typical, anything goes. So I struggled to be as flexible as possible. If I could just motivate myself...! Since I was the only thing I really felt able to control, I focused on what I was doing, rather than my site, which is essentially what any inspirational quote will tell you to do in times of struggle. I thought I had the right attitude, so why was I still so unhappy? Looking back, I wasn’t just “accepting the things I cannot change,” I was blaming myself for too much and probably starting to go crazy. And I completely forgot my APCD’s impression from his first visit.

* * *

Finally it dawned on me that changing sites would make much more sense than having myself wack-evacked. My greatest reservation, though, was that I would have to start over completely—a new host family, a new community where I would again struggle to integrate, another community diagnostic. And I was just finally starting to get to know people, to almost make friends. I wrestled with the decision for about a month, making pros and cons lists and everything, but finally had to just follow my gut. Although my gut may betray me sometimes when I get adventurous and try to eat those tasty-smelling anticuchos from the cart on the street, I had to trust it when the site change started to feel more “right” than anything else.

Once the decision was made, I would up being very excited to be leaving my old site behind. I had too many negative feelings associated with the place. But then, I wasn’t sure that I was ready to going through the “beginning” process again.

Little did I know, I wasn’t starting over with an entirely clean slate—I brought a lot of stuff with me. Whether that stuff is baggage or wisdom depends on the day, really. While I am much more optimistic about being able to accomplish more with my new socios, I am also sometimes more pessimistic about how much they are really invested. My suspicion of Peruvian men continues to make me a little paranoid, even though my new municipality is in all aspects much more professional. While I am extremely grateful for my much nicer house (not only is there a toilet, but this one even has a seat!), I miss the sometimes warmer feeling I got from the far poorer families where I used to live. And any time a problem arises, I still find myself wondering at the cause: is it my lack of motivation or misunderstanding of some cultural nuance, or is it Peru’s fault?

* * *

From training, I remember Kathy Hickey using a tinted-glasses metaphor to explain our limited ability to truly mentally integrate into a new culture—if Americans have blue glasses and Peruvians have yellow, we may someday learn to see in green, but never pure Peruvian yellow. I would add that this color combination can also sometimes be incredibly confusing.

As I struggle to integrate my own perspective with that of Peru, my sense of what is “normal” completely evaporates. Someone “blue” might appreciate one thing, someone “yellow” another, but what does a “green” person see, or even want? Happy or frustrated, trying to see through new eyes that have not yet learned to focus seems to heighten every emotion until I feel like I’m back in Jr. High having some sort of “z0mg guys, hormones!” episode. I can’t decide anything!

So how do I feel about my site change? Super excited for one-- I have more work to do now, yay! But then when I think about how I am still working on a diagnostic and get to feeling like I am very behind, having been in Peru for almost a year with very little to say for it, my negative reaction is likely worse than it would be in another situation outside the ‘Corps.

Sometimes a typical day here has so many highs and lows that just answering the basic question “How are you today?” could take hours! I wonder if what I am trying to say here is that the Peace Corps quite literally takes us back to Jr. High and makes us a little bit insane. But then, it also pushes us to grow in so many fantastic ways. Says the wise p90x man: “Ohhh I feel that in so many fantastic places!”

Beyond forcing us to come up with creative ways to stay in shape, Peace Corps tests our limits to the point that I sometimes feel like I can deal with just about anything. Someday I hope to be able wear my green-tinted glasses without so much internal conflict, lending a unique and fresh perspective to anything I set out to do. Of course, first I have to figure out what that is… but I have another year to agonize and confuse myself over that decision—Peace Corps style!

Meanwhile, I have to remember to keep trusting my gut. Every site may be different, but so is every volunteer, so there is little point in getting caught up wondering what “normal” means. Even with our confusion and cultural homelessness, our instincts are valid and every experience makes them stronger. In the absence of any well-defined perspective, they are likely the best thing we have to guide us through difficult days and complicated decisions.

Clearly I am a Superhero

A few weeks ago, another volunteer and I were painting a mural in the town of Alto Moche, not far from Trujillo. WorldVision (NGO) had asked for volunteers to help, and we agreed, not realizing that we were signing up to design, draw and paint 2 entire murals by ourselves. I was in mural club in High School but I'm not sure that exactly prepared me to try to get something that attractively promoted early childhood education onto a wall using terrible quality paint and brushes. But I was pleasantly surprised with the results:



While we were painting, a lot of people passing by stopped to stare, ask what we were doing (because given the paint brushes in our hands, it really wasn't obvious), or make other comments. Usually it was little kids bouncing around as if they were determined to knock over our paint cans or leave hand prints on the wall, but their parents stopped, too. And on our third day of painting, one old man marble-mumbled (a technical term for how old men with no teeth tend to talk as if they have a mouth full of marbles, obviously) from under his giant sierra-style hat something about how odd it was that 2 women were painting the mural instead of men (??).

But my favorite comment happened on the second day. Two younger kids, maybe 7 years old, were playing around with a skateboard whilst staring unabashedly. About to practically explode with excitement, one of them turned to his friend and exclaimed, "Mira! Mira las gringas! Ellas hablan inglés! ELLAS HABLAN INGLES COMO LOS POWER RANGERS!!!"

(Look! Look at the white girls! They speak English! THEY SPEAK ENGLISH LIKE THE POWER RANGERS!!!)

Clearly, I am a superhero.

Pause.

Vacationing with Katherine this past week was lots of fun and a great break from all the thinking I seem to be doing lately--I visited Viru (my new site) the week prior and that went really well, but I still feel like something isn't a done deal.

We went to Huaraz and hiked around the Llanganuco Lakes (Lake Chinancocha), which was freaking gorgeous (see photo!). The mountains looked like chocolate (or peanut butter fudge where some lighter colored rock was mixed in) and make me feel tiny. We never did find the trail up to the second lake that someone at the hostel mentioned to us, but we did find great views and trees that definitely grew straight out of some Lord of the Rings haunted forest, so I can't complain! We also ate a lot of good food--papas rellenas and tea at the park, but then also some great meals in Huaraz itself. Katherine is officially my good luck charm for trying out random pollo a la brasa and chifa restaurants and finding heaven!

Later in the week we visited the Huaca de la Luna just outside Trujillo, which was pretty interesting. I was surprised how well some of the paintings have been preserved (although I guess I shouldn't be, since they have won awards for the quality of their preservation). The museum nearby, which held artifacts found in huacas, was also really nice, especially compared archeological museum we visited in Huaraz (the mummies were kind of cool and definitely creepy, but it was easy to see why tons of people wrote "falta muchas cosas/missing a lot" under Comments in the visitors book).

And now I have about a week before I head up to Pacasmayo for the marathon/4th of July celebration, before then moving to my new site.

A week to do... what? I intend to do some more planning for my biohuerto project, but I also need to caution the engineers I am working with to slow down a bit--we haven't officially gotten any funding yet and I'm worried that if it falls through they will have wasted time starting things that cannot be finished.

Otherwise, I'm not really sure. Maybe I'll be artsy and finish a few good books. But I also have been doing a lot of thinking about what I want to do, what I want to get out of my service and where I want to take it from there. So far, I feel like I've largely been paid to travel around Peru every so often (which is better than saying I've been paid to get frustrated in site!). Obviously that is why a site change is necessary. But what do I want to get out of my new site that will make staying here worthwhile?

Even though in the Peace Corps (and probably in life in general, really) it is smart to keep a very open mind and avoid having concrete live-or-die expectations, I feel like I need to outline what it is that I need to find and do in site in order to have a worthwhile experience, because I am realizing that I also have a lot of reasons to leave--I need some way to weigh the pros and cons. I am increasingly convinced that I want to pursue a law degree or public policy masters (or... both! Dual JD/PPM at Stanford?!), and to figure this out I should work for a while as a paralegal. While doing so, I could live in New York and hang out with awesome people there that I miss very much, and of course visit home and all the friends and family in Chicago that I miss very much, and not feel like I'm wasting my time.

I'm pretty sure at this point that there is nothing here in Peru that can help me make up my mind about what I want to do with the rest of my life post-Peace Corps, so the question becomes whether or not I want to delay the figuring out in order to have an experience in Viru. So what does that mean?

Worthwhile work, mostly. A feeling that I'm actually accomplishing something even if it's difficult and slow and frustrating sometimes--like a car that spins out on gravel every so often but still keeps moving forward. Hopefully Viru's much bigger municipality and organized JASS can help with that.

I also have realized that I need to be a lot more integrated into my site in order to be, well, happy. I'm leaving my first site with acquaintances but no one that I really felt particularly comfortable calling a friend. But now that my Spanish is so much better and I know how important it will be to my service, one of my top priorities in Viru will be to "hang out" with Peruvians as much as possible. Ideally I will come up with plenty of good in-site memories to make up for the times I have cursed at apathy or tardiness ("la hora peruana" is definitely not cute anymore!) or "why is this huayno music so f#$%ing loud!?"

My happiness relies not just on the site I find in Viru, but very much on my own shoulders. I can't let one negative experience stop me from exhausting every possible work opportunity and social situation in my new site--that way, if I'm still unhappy, I can be satisfied saying that the Peace Corps just wasn't for me, without wondering whether or not the problem was my own motivation.

In the infamous words of Ferris Bueller, "You're not dying [of boredom], you just can't think of anything good to do!"

Movin on up?

I try not to blog when I’m frustrated or angry or upset because words written down always sound so much worse than when spoken aloud—no need to exaggerate myself and then post it online for the world to see and judge and worry. But I also want to be honest, which isn’t really possible if I only share half of what I’m feeling.

Honestly, lately I’ve been pretty stressed—apparently I started grinding my teeth, so everything has been happening against this backdrop of jaw pain. I had to make a trip to Lima to go to the dentist, which cost me both way too much money and time I felt I could have spent actually working now that my biohuerto project is getting started (hopefully in July we’ll get some good news from Kids to Kids about the funding we applied for and be able to really get going, but there is still a lot to organize so we can hit the ground running when the money gets here).

Why the teeth grinding? According to the dentist, the alignment of my teeth is off—so much for those braces?—which makes my jaw muscles tense up, but stress is also a contributing factor.

Why stress? At this point, it feels like there is just something in the air in Buena Vista, something that’s bad for me. I don’t have the community support here that I need to be an effective volunteer and I’m tired of waiting for it. I can think, well, maybe I should have done things differently, been more persistent from the beginning, been better at integrating… something. But at this point it doesn’t really matter. The air has gone stale and it feels like time to move on.

So 2 weeks ago I made the decision to move to Chao (the district capital) so that I can work more closely with the municipality there. The one thing that I have had going for me--the biohuerto—relies heavily on the support of the environmental engineers employed by the municipality. So my idea was to work more closely with these engineers and their coworkers, both in Buena Vista and other surrounding caserios. Chao has resources--both money and personnel—that my current site does not. I talked to Jorge (Water and Sanitation APCD, basically my boss) about this idea when I was in Lima and it sounded like he was on board—he just needed official approval from the assistant country director. A little red tape, courtesy of the infamous Office.

But of course nothing is that simple! I spent last Tuesday and Wednesday in Trujillo with Greg because he had to pick up a new phone after his was stolen the week before. But of course, nothing is simple for him, either—due to the complete incompetence of the Office’s tech person, the Movistar store was (is?) still waiting on some paperwork from Lima to be able to hand over the phone and Greg finally had to go back to site without one. Who, may I ask, is going to reimburse him for the 3 days he wasted waiting in Trujillo? Who is going to make it up to his stressed out girlfriend? It’s been 2 weeks now…

So I was (am) angry at the Office already, not just the tech guy but the whole mess that hired him and hasn’t fired him yet, and then I talked to Jorge again last Thursday. He told me he is going to talk to the assistant country director over the weekend and everything should be good. But then just as I was about to hang up, he comes out with, oh, by the way, it’s too difficult to have 2 water and sanitation volunteers in Chao with separate projects. So we’re thinking that instead you should move to Viru (the provincial capital, about an hour from Buena Vista, which would essentially represent a complete site change).

And start all over? Redo my diagnostic, meet new people? Why on earth would I do that when I know I have people to work with in Chao? I was furious already and now you’re going to drop this on me,too? I would have rather stayed in Buena Vista and just turned my service into a nice long vacation.

Or even better, after talking to Merril (the other volunteer in Chao), I presented the idea of moving to Nuevo Chao, a caserio of Chao that is only 15 minutes from the municipality—so I would essentially be doing the exact same projects with the same people, just making the Office happy by technically living somewhere else. I was still furious but feeling sneaky. Maybe this could work? He agreed so long as Merril and I would meet with Sandra, the regional coordinator for our area, to hash out separate work plans.

On Saturday I met with Frieda, the 3rd year volunteer who works with Jorge, and we were talking about this whole mess and how Frieda can help out by making sure Jorge understands what I am trying to do, that I do not want to start over completely and can’t abandon the biohuerto project, etc. But just as we were finishing lunch, Sandra called me to say that she was in Viru and would like to meet with me in an hour and a half—what?

Turns out moving to Viru was not Jorge’s idea, but Sandra’s—she doesn’t want to place two volunteers in the same program in the same site, but would rather get a “cluster” going in Viru, where they are putting a small business volunteer very soon. So many communities have been asking for volunteers that it wouldn’t be fair to give 2 to one and none to another. It would be a better experience to have my own site, and there are lots of potential community partners ready to go. I wouldn’t be starting over completely, not really—I’ll be able to do my diagnostic much more quickly this time. Plus, as the provincial capital, Viru is even bigger than Chao and I could potentially continue to work with Chao and its caserios, but using the capital’s resources. It’s not so far away that I can’t continue with the biohuerto project, and hey, apparently it’s prettier.

So if Viru is so great, why didn’t they put me there in the first place? Why didn’t Jorge explain this over the phone?

We (Sandra, Frieda and I) had this conversation in the Sandra’s car (Chao could use a good coffee shop). I started out still furious, feeling like my plans were all being turned upside down for the convenience of the Office instead of me, the volunteer who just wants to accomplish something. Gee, I’d love to talk this over with someone, but guess what? No phone! I like Sandra, but at that moment, I kind of wanted to hit her for surprising me like that. It was hot, I was mentally exhausted, leave me alone!

But then, this isn’t about incompetent tech people and miscommunication and throwing huge surprises at me as afterthoughts, this is about finding a way for me to be productive, and doing the most good that I can with the time that I have here. The stress of suddenly finding out that the plan I had just become comfortable with isn’t going to happen hit me pretty hard, but I’ve ultimately agreed that it might be for the best. I can still be minimally involved with the biohuerto, but there may also be another entire town of possibilities with my name on it. We spoke to the police about safety issues in Nuevo Chao, and as Sandra suspected, apparently being right next to an invasion, it’s not very safe. So it’s either rot in Buena Vista or see what’s what in Viru.

I’m getting used to the idea, although I have to admit that I’m not entirely sure what happened in the heat of Sandra’s car to change my mind. At the time I felt like I was admitting defeat, but after I had some time to think, Viru actually started to sound like a good idea. I really don’t know why, but I hope it is due to one of those gut feelings that turns out to be very, very right. I need this to work out.

On Thursday, Jorge is doing site visits here and we’re planning on going to Viru so I can see it for myself. Friday, I get a week to think it over in peace when I travel to Huaraz with Katherine. Hopefully I will come back refreshed, less stressed out, and ready to go. The Office may be infuriating sometimes, but I don’t need it to be perfect to escape the bad air and make this a good experience.

WATSAN?

What can I do when Buena Vista's 2-man water committee has no desire to actually work with me to make improvements to the water system?

Garden instead.

What can I do when only 10 people show up to my community diagnostic presentation? I certainly didn't have enough people to elect a JASS (the current committee members didn't even show) or a viviendas saludables (healthy homes) committee.

Forget the JASS for now. Go door to door asking (begging?) for people to both participate in the project and serve on the committee.

At least, that is how I have answered those questions for myself (I'm of course welcoming any input you may have!). I haven't entirely given up on the water committee--after all, educating the water committee and working with them to improve the system is the main goal of the Water and Sanitation (WATSAN) program. We still need a JASS. But I'm putting that project on the back burner for now. It seems like a waste of time to keep trying to drag people along when there is a committee of professors at the school who want to start a biohuerto (vegetable garden with natural fertilizers and hopefully no pesticides if we can help it) and are actively looking for help with the project. I'm mixing in a little bit of WATSAN, too, by incorporating trash management--we can use organics to make fertilizer, recycle the recyclables and bury the rest in our own mico-relleno (mini-garbage dump).

Nothing is set in stone yet, but I have been working with 2 environmental engineers who work for the municipality of Chao (district government) to write a project proposal--they were a huge help, especially with the budget. Ideally the municipality will pay for half, and I am applying for a Kids to Kids grant to cover the other half. The application is due June 1st, so I have a lot to do the next couple of days. Wish me luck!

As far as the viviendas saludables project, I was able to develop part of a project plan for part of this project during the Project Design and Management workshop (PDM) last month with my neighbor, Frida Doris. We are all required to bring a community counterpart to PDM--most volunteers brought people who work for the municipality or have some other leadership position, but since Buena Vista isn't exactly a beacon for good leadership and my neighbor has been the most helpful person I've met so far, I brought her.

Since we got back, I have been mainly focused on the biohuerto project's upcoming deadline, so we haven't made any progress in terms of setting up a committee to start organizing everything, but hopefully soon we can start going door to door asking for participants and/or committee members to come forward. The biggest part of this project will be improved cooking stoves--cocinas mejoaradas--which is also not exactly a WATSAN project, but there is a huge push for them in Peru (and in the development world in general) and in my surveys my community did show high rates of respiratory issues. I'm hoping to get funding to build the majority of the cocinas, so the community contribution will be more focused on attending my workshops than on money--in those workshops, I can cover not only information about the cocinas, but also contamination routes, disease control, water storage safety, etc. The idea is that by the end, each family will then have a "vivienda saludable"--an all-around healthier home. While the kitchen improvement is a huge part of the project, it is also something like a bride to get families to participate in other components as well.

Between these two project, I feel a little bit like I'm forgetting my program goals, but I've snuck them in there somewhat, and since I am still working to meet community needs, what does it matter?

* * *

Besides work, I have done a bit of traveling lately--down to Lima for PDM, up to Huamanchuco to visit Greg, and now I'm currently in Trujillo after the regional meeting. It's been a lot of fun, check out my photos on Facebook! I'm also really looking forward to Katherine's visit next month and our trip to Huaraz! And my family's visit in August and our trip to Cuzco! I really think I lucked out on my Peace Corps placement--there are so many places just in Peru that I want to visit, not to mention the rest of South America. So many adventures! :)

I also had a great time with my host family on Mother's Day--we went in to Chao to visit my host mom's mother and family, and ate ceviche and duck.

Cleaning the ducks! My host mom is on the right.

Reset

March flew by (marched by? har har) and now I can’t believe I’m already a week into April—where does the time go? Between going to Cajamarca for Carnival and spending 2 weeks in Trujillo for EIST (Early In-Service Training) and a behavior change workshop, I actually did not spend much of March at site. I think that is why I keep getting the feeling that I really haven’t done very much lately, even though I have been pretty busy.

I learned a lot about trash and water systems management at EIST, and at the behavior change workshop we actually wrote and implemented a survey for the recycling service in Trujillo to try to figure out why people are not recycling. At first that was really a mystery to me, because the recycling service distributes yellow bags for recyclables and then actually knocks on everybody’s doors to collect them—you don’t even have to drag your bottles to the curb! But this program is going up against a pre-existing informal system of recycling (basically people just taking bottles out of people’s trash so that they can sell them). We found that some people were very suspicious of the program, thinking that it was only going to line the mayor’s pockets—in which case, it would be better to keep supporting the informal recyclers. What people didn’t know is that in an effort to keep people from living horrible conditions in dumps or opening bags on the streets, there are new laws mandating that municipalities create formal recycling programs that incorporate people who are already making a living recycling. Additionally, the municipality cannot profit from the program. It is an interesting transition to make, but hopefully they will be successful after a little more “concientización” (giving conscience? Public education, I guess, but I really want that word to exist in English).

Now I’ve been back at site since Friday and I feel like I am starting over—not only do I have some new approaches to try out with my community, but just last night I moved to live with a different host family. I’m still in the same community, but now I’m right in the main plaza. I also have a toilet and a shower! Woohoo! After a little cleaning, I think I’ll feel really at home here. My new 7 year-old host sister never stops talking (so she is basically me when I was her age!) and her younger 1 ½ year old sister is adorable. Their older brother is a little shyer, but did manage to monkey his way into my window when I got back from my run this morning and learned the hard way that the lock on my door is broken and determined to keep out even the bearer of the key.

My community diagnostic is almost done—I presented a version at EIST and have received edits/comments on my written rough draft, so now all I have to do is make some changes and beef up the presentation for next week when I finally present to the community. I’m really hoping that after this community meeting, I’ll be able to form a committee to actually begin some real projects! I really want to push them to form a JASS (Junta Administradora de Servicios Sanitarios—administrative body for sanitary systems, a formal committee registered with the government) to manage both the potable water system and the currently under-construction sewage system. My fear is that shortly after the wastewater system gets put into use, someone is going to flush something they’re not supposed to or dump food waste down the drain and clog up the pipes and ruin it for everyone—the JASS is necessary to not only collect monthly fees to maintain the water and wastewater systems (right now the water is free), but also to educate people on how they can help make sure they keep working for everyone.

This week I have already started working more with the school—on Monday I gave a “charla” (another word that should exist in English! Class? Workshop? Talk?) for all of the professors on how to treat water with SODIS (Solar Disinfection). It’s a great method here because there is so much sun, plus it is very inexpensive—literally all you need are clean, clear plastic bottles and somewhere sunny to put them. The idea is that now the professors can teach all of the students (and I don’t have to give the same charla over and over again!) and hopefully soon we’ll have a spot set up where we can start using SODIS right there at the school.

Of course, I woke up today to find that something is not right with our tap water, because in addition to the usual invisible microbes that I have to boil out every morning, it’s brown. SODIS doesn’t fix brown water, nor does boiling for that matter, and my efforts to let it sit/sediment have not been successful. I wish I could say I know exactly what is going on because I’m tight with the water committee, but then I also wish that my water committee actually existed and did things like make sure the community’s water at least looks clean! I have heard various theories about how this is a result of a reservoir cleaning or the recent rain, but nothing concrete. For the first time at site, this morning I had to buy bottled water L.

Hopefully the two guys who make up our kinda sorta water committee are hard at work fixing whatever happened and we’ll have clear water soon—in the meantime, I think I’ll go add another slide to my presentation under “Reasons Why We Need to Organize a JASS and Actually Pay for our Water so the JASS Can Maintain the System”!