tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49859701306682351552024-02-18T22:50:27.591-08:00Plenty of IntentionWe'll see about the wingspan...
Off to Peace Corps in PeruCourtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-41035950711069277352012-07-28T14:10:00.001-07:002012-07-28T14:23:00.090-07:00Final Post - The last days in site and a quick jaunt through Machu Picchu. Goodbye, my dear Peru.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crazy cop rommate Edir, Mom, and little bro Adrian.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I barely know how to describe the last few months at site. It appears I haven't blogged in a good four months. I suppose a lot happened, as well as a remarkable amount of nothing. Anyone who sees my facebook knows that I spent a large amount of time stuck in strikes.<br />
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I continued with as many projects as I could, though most of my classes fell apart, as well as my marmalade farm/factory getting a pretty weak outcomes, and me having to complete my tourism project essentially on my own. I kept being able to teach my shorter term courses and my one really successful bank continued to be awesome.<br />
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The strikes were weird - a mix of the worst of boredom and frustration, and some of the more intense moments of my service. A few good/crazy times from strike days:<br />
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<li>Roadblocked in on and off, longest for about 12 days, though some of my nearby volunteer friends were stuck in for up to 40 days.</li>
<li>Roadblocks often just for a day or two, not affecting much. Only when we'd run out of food/money/sanity did they really prove to matter much. Everything being closed so often was quite annoying.</li>
<li>Rarely heard from Peace Corps, almost never sure of what we were supposed to be doing/how nervous we should be. When I tried asking the office before "the Big One" if I should leave beforehand they said they thought the people would "lose steam." They were wrong. In fact, often a pretty incredible lack of knowledge of what was going on in our region, though they seemed to apply arbitrary rules to us all, not dependent on our situations. It got annoying.</li>
<li>The "ronderos," or militia-types who were physically putting on these strikes, did NOT like me, or many of the other volunteers. Being the only gringos in the area, and the mines being American-owned, they thought we worked for the mines. I once rather nerve-wreckingly got surrounded by them yelling at me and taking away my stuff, til some profesoras who knew me got me out.</li>
<li>Due to the ronderos not being my biggest fans, I have not been able to run in about two months - didn't feel comfortable at site to stand out so much with them around, and have been traveling since - never a fan of running around these unknown towns alone. We'll see how this race goes, with me only having 3 weeks to prepare for it after I get home. Gulp.</li>
<li>My favorite: I spent a lot of time hanging out at the clinica with my friends during the strikes. One day we were all upstairs drinking cañaso and watching one of the Peru World Cup qualifying games (Colombia, maybe?), in the midst of a long blocked off period. My friends had been trying to help me come up with a way out for a couple days, so I could get to Lima for Med Checks. All of a sudden there was a big commotion downstairs. The ronderos had shot some dude (or maybe the cops shot him? We couldn't get a good story, as everyone from the ronderos to the cops to the patient to the doctors to me, was a bit drunk from watching the game.) So, he had been shot in the thigh and his femur was broken, but his femoral artery wasn't (yet) so they needed to rush him off to Chiclayo. We immediately got the idea to smuggle me out in the "ambulance" which was a pick-up truck with a note from the doc. So they tucked my hair up in a hat, put on long sleeves, and decided to pretend I was a nurse. So they put me in the truck with the dude, then it turns out I am the only one going besides the driver, as they couldn't be short on people not knowing when the strike would end. Then they give me a syringe. Ok, I think we are just adding to the costume. Then they start explaining to me when to use the syringe. Huh. They are serious. They are smuggling me out and using me as the actual nurse to accompany this guy, who thinks I am hilarious, but who very well may die on me. I was stuttering trying to figure out what to do when luckily-ish, right then the ronderos showed up wanting to see my Peruvian ID. Only having a passport to produce, the ronderos weren't having it and sent me packing. No escape. The ronderos hate me.</li>
<li>The circus was stuck in our town for the long 12 day blockage. Drunken midget clowns wandered the street. The ronderos didn't like the circus either. We had to hide from them in the clinica another time when they marched in force to shut down a party in the circus tent.</li>
<li>A guy got his head bashed in in front of my house for trying to sell food on one of the days businesses weren't allowed to open. That was at the beginning and when I realized we were in for it.</li>
<li>Other volunteers: One guy got chased by a guy with a machete who thought he worked for the mine. Another guy had to hide in fields while ronderos were chasing him. One girl, in her village a guy got shut down by the rondas for serving the white girl. Three people got killed in one site, one of them being someone the volunteers there knew. Also in that site, the ATM was violently smashed and they were stuck without money or much access to food for way too long. In a couple of sites, huge street demonstrations became a daily occurrence. </li>
<li>When I got out of my site, the bus was stopped by ronderos who got on and forcefully pulled off a bunch of people that apparently weren't supposed to be leaving, amidst lots of screaming and crying. I just closed my eyes and crossed my fingers that they didn't pick me. They didn't. It was awesome. </li>
<li>Chota area got adventurous. But most days, we were all just desperately bored and unable to work.</li>
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So the last few months of my service were pretty defined by failure, work-wise, but there were many celebrations as well with me finishing my service. I had some good trips to the polleria, one with my bank people and one with my muni/school people. I had some parties with my family and friends to say goodbye.<br />
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It was all tragically hard. I do not like goodbyes and I am not a big fan of public displays of emotion. After I gave my final radio address in my last week, I had a bunch of very sad encounters. My panaderia lady. The muni guards. The anticucho lady. My kids. And my family. Oh, man the family. That was rough. So hard. I will miss them so much. I will miss all the town so much. But I know I will be back.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom's bday/my going away party. Prepping food.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So. Much. Food.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I ate too much food.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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So, that was the end of site. I had to leave early to get to Chiclayo before another strike started - I wasn't willing to risk staying in and missing my COS date. So I hung out there a week and then headed down to Lima to meet up with all the others and officially finish our service.<br />
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Saying goodbye to the other volunteers was easily as hard or harder than saying goodbye in site. They have become my family and some of my greatest friends of all time. I hope to see them all back in the land of milk and honey sometime.<br />
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Then I took off to Cuzco, to finally see Machu Picchu before I left. I honestly didn't even want to go - the only person in the world annoyed to go to Machu Picchu. I was sad with the departure of all my friends, melancholy about leaving Peru, and just wanting to get on a plane and get 'er done. But I figured it was pretty much an obligatory trip. So after many disasters - getting robbed, having my tickets all messed up, etc. - I was off to Cuzco. 21 hour bus ride later...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuzco plaza</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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I wasn't all that impressed with Cuzco. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood for it. It was super duper crowded and expensive and you couldn't walk four feet without someone getting in your face about buying jewelry or a massage or something. It did have some pretty churches though, and some great market food.<br />
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I made a friend my first night there, Romi from Argentina. I am actually still hanging out with her, now in Lima. We went out wild that first night, finding funny parties. Second night, we met the most absurdly overly-nice bunch of medical students from Michigan and played hilarious drinking games with them, and the third night, we headed off towards Machu Picchu Town together.<br />
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There are a few routes to Machu Picchu. The most common is by train. There is the famous Hyram Bingham train which costs a million and there is the backpacker train, which was still too rich for my blood. So we took the back route. Take a combi 5 or 6 hours to Santa Maria. Arrive at 2am - tiny, tiny village. Take another combi to Santa Teresa. Arrive at 3:30am. Another combi last half hour to the hydroelectrica. Walk 2-3 hours to Machu Picchu Town (Aguas Calientes.) We got lucky though. At that first stop, in Santa Maria, first we met 4 girls heading the other way, looking for a combi back to Cuzco. But the a bus pulled up and off came 4 other girls, a pair from France and a pair from Argentina, all headed the same way as us. So, with our powers combined, and a whole shitton of cajoling, we talked a taxi driver named Freddy into giving us a more than reasonable price for a ride all the way to the hidroelectica.<br />
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When we got there, it was still only about 3am and we realized that no one had brought a flashlight, making the walk up the tracks not exactly the smartest, so we decided to hang out in the super freezing cold until morning. We found a little guard station where the guards gave us a bench and blankets and hot ecco and we curled up and tried to nap and waited for the dawn.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuoLApM7Ast5rWmdEWFcDRod63RN1yrrIrbpDrqbbvydU5RcQYPdJZqvFOSREtq-wFx-sFo50XVi1iAuAV-FXeTXiZajlJc-vw817c-pjkTd34wstMPiEJuH2SpFH71kZUAns2oQ-O-TF/s1600/P1030878.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYuoLApM7Ast5rWmdEWFcDRod63RN1yrrIrbpDrqbbvydU5RcQYPdJZqvFOSREtq-wFx-sFo50XVi1iAuAV-FXeTXiZajlJc-vw817c-pjkTd34wstMPiEJuH2SpFH71kZUAns2oQ-O-TF/s320/P1030878.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Romi on the left, my nest area, the two crazy and super young French girls, and the two Argentinean ladies.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Eventually dawn came, and then it was just, walk straight up the tracks. Flat the whole way and we're all fit - should be closer to two than three hours. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We immediately realized we were the all-chick version of Stand By Me. All but the Frenchies had seen it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had a dog companion that walked with us for a long time. I named him Macho Pichi.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpNfKRO9wYdnt5FZAJwKPZsyUITKkcGPtTfajgDCxpTP0-ybjzGPtjuk0XZN40xkb7AR2U4xySEMe6AI-egH9Z_yEtflGiCQFAAy1sGSHhijfMpi9KEz0K85yev7qORODDtsr5VcQ-UPr/s1600/P1030905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQpNfKRO9wYdnt5FZAJwKPZsyUITKkcGPtTfajgDCxpTP0-ybjzGPtjuk0XZN40xkb7AR2U4xySEMe6AI-egH9Z_yEtflGiCQFAAy1sGSHhijfMpi9KEz0K85yev7qORODDtsr5VcQ-UPr/s320/P1030905.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We knew from the beginning that at some point we were going to have to cross a train trestle. As we walked I got more and more excited about this. SO EXCITED. I just kept picturing Stand By Me and how we were going to end up having to run from the train and jump dramatically at the last second down a steep pitch. It was going to be the greatest moment of my life. So of course we get to the trestle and find that it has a walking path on it's side. Sigh. Nothing ever works out for me. This is a picture of me and the French girls being a train. These girls were super nuts, just like you want teenage girls to be. They played on the train trestle for probably 45 minutes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trains came by sometimes. They smashed lots of soles for us. Once they almost hit us, for being lazy.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycIhM3NB5sWowu-ae9A1R-iTv9jRRiEo9iH02JpG8Jleftkkpd9-N8kr25J32LseuxkL0v2n0fQgLcKCbQ52_OfCj24behDs0Ql3-ywPk5YapcHcLarFgjuXK6NyquC-S0wAl1VH383MM/s1600/P1030921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycIhM3NB5sWowu-ae9A1R-iTv9jRRiEo9iH02JpG8Jleftkkpd9-N8kr25J32LseuxkL0v2n0fQgLcKCbQ52_OfCj24behDs0Ql3-ywPk5YapcHcLarFgjuXK6NyquC-S0wAl1VH383MM/s320/P1030921.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dog number two, Destroyer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQmJ8qcUqK9JhR3bouLKABTaOlCu40DJeCaCVlEIHXq7RZXGpbSWrhOdweKfJUH0b-9fEjwhkAZDP0N7XO1tQPUwzhTJFBOA4nqbliWfGyStSrjlVAvedLEXPecGZe1JWUZQmbZdSUOg84/s1600/P1030943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQmJ8qcUqK9JhR3bouLKABTaOlCu40DJeCaCVlEIHXq7RZXGpbSWrhOdweKfJUH0b-9fEjwhkAZDP0N7XO1tQPUwzhTJFBOA4nqbliWfGyStSrjlVAvedLEXPecGZe1JWUZQmbZdSUOg84/s320/P1030943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was really a gorgeous walk with all sorts of dramatic mountain views. We felt all Inca-trail-without-paying-and-without-crowds-ish. We liked it. Really I thought it looked a lot like Oregon, I mean except for the orange/lime/avocado trees and the funny pineapple plants all over. And the giant tropical flowers and massive wild guinea pigs darting around.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7jQxoOVhfjL8JiKDFwTy-ksTw_SoJIamaBwTcZ9MXghzoOlizl_i4qm_qjd9otfmYuw2v49N7WCU3-iCljtQEEghqgfDm_E77Rqa7uxA_EWpOnMKGunP7tF-jSKR4sc7YwXNnqlNBzlg/s1600/P1030955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha7jQxoOVhfjL8JiKDFwTy-ksTw_SoJIamaBwTcZ9MXghzoOlizl_i4qm_qjd9otfmYuw2v49N7WCU3-iCljtQEEghqgfDm_E77Rqa7uxA_EWpOnMKGunP7tF-jSKR4sc7YwXNnqlNBzlg/s320/P1030955.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I walked in the wrong grass on the side, which turned out to be orange mud.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCYcrxd5hU9-zuywglzDCf96Gok1bZ5sFBJSfwOd6CMp8oeHGRwcO8b6AViZepjxfX-eI-ChPSWSdIcmCVrztrMjuutfzianZj6ixPrks8DHAc4NP5k4H07CCq2gj67-shQeAPnVEPviu/s1600/P1030957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOCYcrxd5hU9-zuywglzDCf96Gok1bZ5sFBJSfwOd6CMp8oeHGRwcO8b6AViZepjxfX-eI-ChPSWSdIcmCVrztrMjuutfzianZj6ixPrks8DHAc4NP5k4H07CCq2gj67-shQeAPnVEPviu/s320/P1030957.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best graffiti ever: Fook Yah</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63Ne11TpQV_lFBd_FXH3GY3E3jqVyRWMIeKPS6xB3J-79lj5mvohmzeOk7yYKNu9LlCvCyR4ezQVjjnIQ235EntGN9X8Z-1drwFnIrDoPu4S0p_TfOVAaqNVFPITbuWiMe1QMStixLLDf/s1600/P1030959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63Ne11TpQV_lFBd_FXH3GY3E3jqVyRWMIeKPS6xB3J-79lj5mvohmzeOk7yYKNu9LlCvCyR4ezQVjjnIQ235EntGN9X8Z-1drwFnIrDoPu4S0p_TfOVAaqNVFPITbuWiMe1QMStixLLDf/s320/P1030959.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was around the point where we realized it had already been 3.5 hours. Romi and I would walk twenty minutes, then wait ten for the others. It was fine at first, they were playing and taking lots of pictures and stuff. But we had a lot of stuff with us and were getting sick of carrying it. This is the point we took off and just started hauling ass towards the town. We figured we may see the rest of the girls later.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK7VArnMQXkJHxU_tK3X6SfbcOw_aebdZH1E6WZe-nf8kzbbdcJNz8mmxx6VIiVHnZS__ULSXqrxQS0RdrQ9GpgTUgPjN1eR_wan6urMK7Ce3CBgN7tfPO11BujjEXg5hoerCqrQtKnhh/s1600/P1030962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHK7VArnMQXkJHxU_tK3X6SfbcOw_aebdZH1E6WZe-nf8kzbbdcJNz8mmxx6VIiVHnZS__ULSXqrxQS0RdrQ9GpgTUgPjN1eR_wan6urMK7Ce3CBgN7tfPO11BujjEXg5hoerCqrQtKnhh/s320/P1030962.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last dog. He was called "QUIT BITING ME YOU LITTLE BASTARD." But he was cute.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKhA9Mzjyn-DvDXA9TurwUtqV8x-1Ej3fG59Tf9kCTJbXlAjOG8VZqwL50HXjL5IaJXP9BNiIpLOlNIF4BIht8-Qu2GpCYayLxUd0pYTJ4D9AEGadIx0BSOxJDWstoP2ibMcg8pX0ykfW/s1600/P1030972.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgKhA9Mzjyn-DvDXA9TurwUtqV8x-1Ej3fG59Tf9kCTJbXlAjOG8VZqwL50HXjL5IaJXP9BNiIpLOlNIF4BIht8-Qu2GpCYayLxUd0pYTJ4D9AEGadIx0BSOxJDWstoP2ibMcg8pX0ykfW/s320/P1030972.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tore my pants. I was getting all sorts of classy on this walk.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPN-gCZ4I54j6o8ltPM6kvaoQBowWZy7-l3J9UpeYZet5iprOw-Gu8HP45CahHvnM57SApjfIqyeq8kTKTXS54kYtp8GRnelXi1u2tV1R_ewXHPuD-aPdUUZ7GBLgZiYD9dKaxb0tAbJD/s1600/P1030973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGPN-gCZ4I54j6o8ltPM6kvaoQBowWZy7-l3J9UpeYZet5iprOw-Gu8HP45CahHvnM57SApjfIqyeq8kTKTXS54kYtp8GRnelXi1u2tV1R_ewXHPuD-aPdUUZ7GBLgZiYD9dKaxb0tAbJD/s320/P1030973.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Woohoo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw6oMjMBpELRDXslM0H5bm1DZ3QimjRB-VqF4XutHMEXvd95ATdeP4Kfx-ptm-HCvxhaG1QiZEM4gG4eEgzvy8QpPi87ReCsEE5ThNhxlFp6Ivlvs0E8CtR1Qm_0pZTCqZbo78x9_dvi5/s1600/P1030974.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggw6oMjMBpELRDXslM0H5bm1DZ3QimjRB-VqF4XutHMEXvd95ATdeP4Kfx-ptm-HCvxhaG1QiZEM4gG4eEgzvy8QpPi87ReCsEE5ThNhxlFp6Ivlvs0E8CtR1Qm_0pZTCqZbo78x9_dvi5/s320/P1030974.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Off the tracks, on the road, heading in to town. Hungry. Over 4 and a half hours later.</td></tr>
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Machu Picchu town was totally adorable. If it weren't ungodly expensive I would love to stay there a month. Also, because most people just pass through and don't stay, and those that do are leaving for the ruins at 5am each morning, there is exactly ZERO people out at night and zero things to do. Pretty funny. <br />
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The whole town is a science of contradictions. Poverty next to insane riches. Dirty next to sparkling. Stone churches sharing a wall with fast food. Wild days and quiet nights. Then there were the funny tiny streets and the strangely stacked buildings.<br />
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We walked into to town and almost immediately came across a pizza place. We had pizza and beer for breakfast. Nine in the morning and so happy. While we were eating the Argentinian ladies came along and joined us. Apparently the French girls just kept on walking, to try and get into the ruins that day. We never saw those wild little girls again. Hope they didn't fall off anything high - they seemed prone to that. After our awesome college student breakfast we said goodbye forever to the other ladies and went on to have a relaxingly lazy day - we got hot showers, ate probably five times, and drank so many lovely cocktails.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIyCo18xgoR0y5S9W5EdxybrRXqdXILLgcKFuSP09p88YwmH7QkLu15EYxAn07UTVnFD4MxTW5W5XG0rEu8AAWSefrZ77VbJz9n78TQcOyFT4IyTJNeLuc083d8eGRGhI4r_v1437xrnM/s1600/P1040010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIyCo18xgoR0y5S9W5EdxybrRXqdXILLgcKFuSP09p88YwmH7QkLu15EYxAn07UTVnFD4MxTW5W5XG0rEu8AAWSefrZ77VbJz9n78TQcOyFT4IyTJNeLuc083d8eGRGhI4r_v1437xrnM/s320/P1040010.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town is two blocks wide, with train track in the middle and a river on one side, all sides surrounded in the craziest cliffsides and ominously large mountains. we mostly wandered in awe that civilization ever chose to make its way into this labyrinth. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next morning, off to Machu Picchu. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FX1T_eK52n1dvDPV2P5sR7bu-Z2Js_Svc_X2OUyc7eRxok4eANezqmyZMGaTJHFYTm8dRo1QH71hvNlyeXaXksyQYCdPTAy-vb7OydrChVZMaooPyBVAmFIOVTlioi8hr9p4y0Hl57WU/s1600/P1040021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8FX1T_eK52n1dvDPV2P5sR7bu-Z2Js_Svc_X2OUyc7eRxok4eANezqmyZMGaTJHFYTm8dRo1QH71hvNlyeXaXksyQYCdPTAy-vb7OydrChVZMaooPyBVAmFIOVTlioi8hr9p4y0Hl57WU/s320/P1040021.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCh8X1NJWxBsDtWaeJUkHEwn0SODViejvEz-xu9eKUVoq8o7WwQ0wKoNQZila9jAPBSd9PXoMqB5fvWxrx7jujfMPQXiJKa84UdD2BzKHKNMlI-NKao0y0qPO2YYKQ4PEjwtPr2WlweqnM/s1600/P1040022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCh8X1NJWxBsDtWaeJUkHEwn0SODViejvEz-xu9eKUVoq8o7WwQ0wKoNQZila9jAPBSd9PXoMqB5fvWxrx7jujfMPQXiJKa84UdD2BzKHKNMlI-NKao0y0qPO2YYKQ4PEjwtPr2WlweqnM/s320/P1040022.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Right when we got in though, we had to use our tickets to climb Machu Picchu Mountain, which, for some reason, we had been under the impression, was not all that big of a mountain. We were wrong. We spent an hour forty-five minutes climbing crazy steep stairs. We took our time and rested and didn't want to get to gross sweaty, but we still died.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8_wm5p8z99Hki5fK0gFDhohjWFfsyv5o0Il1x8hQtREas8qcqGn4RmKQVV5vxkJlH2AoOy99y9BMEyZPCpxLE-l7paGxO4eutIpyTQm0VKvtMRlAzmhc-08RaceKD79nVDnQimMtTXxe/s1600/P1040031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8_wm5p8z99Hki5fK0gFDhohjWFfsyv5o0Il1x8hQtREas8qcqGn4RmKQVV5vxkJlH2AoOy99y9BMEyZPCpxLE-l7paGxO4eutIpyTQm0VKvtMRlAzmhc-08RaceKD79nVDnQimMtTXxe/s320/P1040031.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First stop, not too far in, looking back on Machu Picchu.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu4p3i9-YW2jMmGwwILlwLBXcuVV2SBuOrNI-JW7IZ5BMPZ9tWmxNlJrrXp4IJCsHI8X3F3P1bkps9LnIrgIHSGmWOCFq-tNhrUfFjGBBkZZMorl-JZkCjYtnab982V4ZbaS6WDE3d5Dl/s1600/P1040037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixu4p3i9-YW2jMmGwwILlwLBXcuVV2SBuOrNI-JW7IZ5BMPZ9tWmxNlJrrXp4IJCsHI8X3F3P1bkps9LnIrgIHSGmWOCFq-tNhrUfFjGBBkZZMorl-JZkCjYtnab982V4ZbaS6WDE3d5Dl/s320/P1040037.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhgw5zf-RFcLKalhjGjZdX_d_-x1D4hK07JCKfo9QY0XCylBFfFWYjnPnp9ebVa-OJEJupK7fe_reI2u6CEw_L2fXbmc67CFQoGPeSaui5yvDAbzsxI_8zZmFm7PQuwpOwSu2v8blIxCc/s1600/P1040039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKhgw5zf-RFcLKalhjGjZdX_d_-x1D4hK07JCKfo9QY0XCylBFfFWYjnPnp9ebVa-OJEJupK7fe_reI2u6CEw_L2fXbmc67CFQoGPeSaui5yvDAbzsxI_8zZmFm7PQuwpOwSu2v8blIxCc/s320/P1040039.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtKUU9OeZdFcDGULXoECCaZ2BfeB4TrSjfhTPR1xW908qdIt-VqP7ApCi65f9CN4uDK0iR2dDYpHqIoznCK4W-i5s0-TUGK4pCbLb4-74G3bzkZfJP1J7nHwxPNXVdWcrlQ5vp2AWUcYY/s1600/P1040042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLtKUU9OeZdFcDGULXoECCaZ2BfeB4TrSjfhTPR1xW908qdIt-VqP7ApCi65f9CN4uDK0iR2dDYpHqIoznCK4W-i5s0-TUGK4pCbLb4-74G3bzkZfJP1J7nHwxPNXVdWcrlQ5vp2AWUcYY/s320/P1040042.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6aoifiRt18bXZ4ug5G21dEpl3j1DqKOv_BaagEpxAe4Dcn6mj2KyjflR8qpXwTOSFWuARhDzye3DnfIy9bLBpiah5A1rYkL6QyNq4FNhZAk0pKO8TIXYCGO8HeBwTh8XUgB4ONn4VkSK/s1600/P1040046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH6aoifiRt18bXZ4ug5G21dEpl3j1DqKOv_BaagEpxAe4Dcn6mj2KyjflR8qpXwTOSFWuARhDzye3DnfIy9bLBpiah5A1rYkL6QyNq4FNhZAk0pKO8TIXYCGO8HeBwTh8XUgB4ONn4VkSK/s320/P1040046.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near death. Can't breathe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44WrMGA1cn_1BP53LEX2Ou-omNUpnRxGZ2OtAkDbC9HC285nXfH6JjvIQSdawP1DFVsxa3PE8FXfYsJZ_tV1ohxJH9JL0Jf2scGOSS1LV_NU2i4tcKhFuA9jxVBASA69Ldzgpp4g5wGYf/s1600/P1040049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi44WrMGA1cn_1BP53LEX2Ou-omNUpnRxGZ2OtAkDbC9HC285nXfH6JjvIQSdawP1DFVsxa3PE8FXfYsJZ_tV1ohxJH9JL0Jf2scGOSS1LV_NU2i4tcKhFuA9jxVBASA69Ldzgpp4g5wGYf/s320/P1040049.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xJ5w-xqSqEv-TIYH-ikMXzPWGxfl5mLf_BqulBUymZ3OYomrWzWYSvU0oHhGLdlt5WQPk8T3_tRh-HAUzIh0kprPqX795gJLQb9D6d0shWobA5dbf4_Y60Mg8RBXZAy1QSLNhtu3vkJR/s1600/P1040051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_xJ5w-xqSqEv-TIYH-ikMXzPWGxfl5mLf_BqulBUymZ3OYomrWzWYSvU0oHhGLdlt5WQPk8T3_tRh-HAUzIh0kprPqX795gJLQb9D6d0shWobA5dbf4_Y60Mg8RBXZAy1QSLNhtu3vkJR/s320/P1040051.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Climbing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNgciWQog9z6S5aDBFA8ZaO4wRaeZ6Xj0R2-gQrC-7gz3ghTRjk9HzTBkb50chTNn8FbwHUJxv7wWnE-03Pg4VXP3LNMI1h2hNHXrP8VW-bn07vRIXHF_wC9XmmcUY0TfbhFF-R-9k-BJ/s1600/P1040064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSNgciWQog9z6S5aDBFA8ZaO4wRaeZ6Xj0R2-gQrC-7gz3ghTRjk9HzTBkb50chTNn8FbwHUJxv7wWnE-03Pg4VXP3LNMI1h2hNHXrP8VW-bn07vRIXHF_wC9XmmcUY0TfbhFF-R-9k-BJ/s320/P1040064.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TOP! (I have a nice panoramic I will put up someday.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIjWmSwAzZFc5eukkVNVxNUbhiBfnBXTd9C7GTNoCYhHAbaCuXq7m7zFDeW9ZhDkWkdZl0I4VN4ECTDFw5sDM_K50mzdnyiRyXI8soQMDDlzZfhQSoZaNMW9_7SNQcqmxG0wIlTTvpvP8V/s1600/P1040067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIjWmSwAzZFc5eukkVNVxNUbhiBfnBXTd9C7GTNoCYhHAbaCuXq7m7zFDeW9ZhDkWkdZl0I4VN4ECTDFw5sDM_K50mzdnyiRyXI8soQMDDlzZfhQSoZaNMW9_7SNQcqmxG0wIlTTvpvP8V/s320/P1040067.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">TOP (Look at little tiny Machu Picchu down there!)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaO0uW4UZhi5-wmdpYcIhVh53zPL-vay3O9wqZpTRFVz92zTASw0fO9ykDxFVfyHlLA9kOKkpOf9zMlulyvCwAOLizG4I87ZnKrcUv448oWBnfks28GCtAhB8O0WIBdtl_JFyLFyqUjAu/s1600/P1040082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaO0uW4UZhi5-wmdpYcIhVh53zPL-vay3O9wqZpTRFVz92zTASw0fO9ykDxFVfyHlLA9kOKkpOf9zMlulyvCwAOLizG4I87ZnKrcUv448oWBnfks28GCtAhB8O0WIBdtl_JFyLFyqUjAu/s320/P1040082.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Going down brought out a little fear of heights for me.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrGgqskbgm5NeL-tnI8yVDuZD3iJs47k6oAkPgMf9KsnzDir6SAhz-OjyQ_B1BNr9ELSMBkYUX0Nffk4rURzhyphenhyphenWtNqJoXMG9uXuM27OW-QYk9fKVeuoXEx8qgTZ7hQ30m0YAYLM4z29TJ/s1600/DSC05687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLrGgqskbgm5NeL-tnI8yVDuZD3iJs47k6oAkPgMf9KsnzDir6SAhz-OjyQ_B1BNr9ELSMBkYUX0Nffk4rURzhyphenhyphenWtNqJoXMG9uXuM27OW-QYk9fKVeuoXEx8qgTZ7hQ30m0YAYLM4z29TJ/s320/DSC05687.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gg36Y3lvKhTiHAaiX1CsHn_fwfljB9yI0iV_mGTfYxkfiQhPN2eGGIJItMS40EdhVmY88q4m2p37VoXx2L9vOiyY8s8yPIPpQNbFqG6TkZG3eeU5etD3leEPrUJC354IRLNq4LR0Lq9Q/s1600/P1040087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0gg36Y3lvKhTiHAaiX1CsHn_fwfljB9yI0iV_mGTfYxkfiQhPN2eGGIJItMS40EdhVmY88q4m2p37VoXx2L9vOiyY8s8yPIPpQNbFqG6TkZG3eeU5etD3leEPrUJC354IRLNq4LR0Lq9Q/s320/P1040087.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Romi is a biology teacher in Argentina. Sometimes I got lessons about plants.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxizfuEwv-xF8U3pRHDO3vPuRw2UraiVVUBILkXahgbM4lLO0HL_bXUWwhZ-cKvDHs6kjVa6z8vmBE4V3s7SGKlzxj8y2rS68puW6Ljmt04RdryjfF8qpHIraV4OwPQe7pv_CsS9aORGfV/s1600/P1040089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxizfuEwv-xF8U3pRHDO3vPuRw2UraiVVUBILkXahgbM4lLO0HL_bXUWwhZ-cKvDHs6kjVa6z8vmBE4V3s7SGKlzxj8y2rS68puW6Ljmt04RdryjfF8qpHIraV4OwPQe7pv_CsS9aORGfV/s320/P1040089.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back at the bottom!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HGvw7NJFH1tl5NHLVwyLTSg7wn6x837OB_81AySrH-slm_y_c-4K4zmOcxsJCDfW2PZykaTMJ849lwJwr-ychhDOW6fzW2Dz7JLufk9_yEGcyiUgq7i3EH0KtcsC59Fxt_DEUahyphenhyphenr1Ey/s1600/P1040090.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HGvw7NJFH1tl5NHLVwyLTSg7wn6x837OB_81AySrH-slm_y_c-4K4zmOcxsJCDfW2PZykaTMJ849lwJwr-ychhDOW6fzW2Dz7JLufk9_yEGcyiUgq7i3EH0KtcsC59Fxt_DEUahyphenhyphenr1Ey/s320/P1040090.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone else at the bottom.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkN3RetEE0njQLQFb2NQqpHRQ-YnlI52iD28JBfOXmWSQ6enoKJ8oPEuucuJcUYUFWovVEYDrXeTv0u-iUT77iFzGinXpxkKKClSJxOJ6pBTlysHip7XHmggaqkdZibqnTcqRzumHZv_L_/s1600/P1040101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkN3RetEE0njQLQFb2NQqpHRQ-YnlI52iD28JBfOXmWSQ6enoKJ8oPEuucuJcUYUFWovVEYDrXeTv0u-iUT77iFzGinXpxkKKClSJxOJ6pBTlysHip7XHmggaqkdZibqnTcqRzumHZv_L_/s320/P1040101.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NOW LET'S GO EXPLORE THE CITY!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Want to eat my snacks but my hands are soooo dirty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-zO46Zl18-7x8tOQ6A3eXHBABeNPBUFp29gkXgetoJ0n_csokMggJeYizjzgk_Gxbn66ApfMqyCxTJv79jD7sIpchekPkkcYjVSULpoXGRFury4iPH8Z9U__IYIBb5hgoVKVBQDizvBT/s1600/P1040136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY-zO46Zl18-7x8tOQ6A3eXHBABeNPBUFp29gkXgetoJ0n_csokMggJeYizjzgk_Gxbn66ApfMqyCxTJv79jD7sIpchekPkkcYjVSULpoXGRFury4iPH8Z9U__IYIBb5hgoVKVBQDizvBT/s320/P1040136.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(That's a really famous rock.)</td></tr>
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Back to town, pretty satisfied with the last few days. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Directly back to our favorite pizza place.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pizza place was UFO themed, all decorated with crop circles and magic rocks and aliens.</td></tr>
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So after Machu Picchu I ended up in a sudden hurry, or I was going to miss my bus from Cuzco to Lima. Considering I still couldn't afford a train directly back to Cuzco, we started bailing across funny routes again. See, the guide books had all mentioned that Machu Picchu should take you 3 or 4 hours. Seeing as how I do not read guide books much, I didn't realize that didn't include I huge 4.5 hour mountain trek, so I had planned my timing poorly. A few town hops later, I made it running into my bus station and hopped right onto a 22 hour bus.<br />
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It was a cheap bus. I couldn't move my legs. Going directly from all that trekking to this stupid little bus wasn't good for my legs. By the time I got off it yesterday afternoon, I couldn't walk. I can a little bit again today.<br />
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Today is Fiestas Patrias - the Peruvian Independence Day and the biggest party of the year. I am going to go celebrate my last days in this amazing country.<br />
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I am excited to go home. I am devastatingly heartbroken to leave Peru. I am scared about finding a job in a timely manner. I am nervous about reintegration. I am a wreck.<br />
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Imma go get a beer. ¡Feliz día!Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-35510582610357425372012-03-20T10:58:00.000-07:002012-03-20T10:58:45.906-07:00Peruvian Apocalypse ApproachethI have had two very strange dreams today, one about home and one involving a bunch of 17ers:<br />
<br />
The first one was late last night early this morning and I was working in the garden with my dad back home, spreading hay to make new beds. I wasn't doing a very good job. I kept spacing out and I was feeling really, really tired. My dad kept getting frustrated with me, but I was just enjoying being there and the yard was lovely. I asked my dad if that tree over there was a variegated maple and he said it was, but then immediately I noticed that it wasn't variegation but was actually that on each leaf was painted a symbol from the periodic table of elements. I turned to my dad to yell that we couldn't cut down this tree, that there were these great paintings on the leaves, but right as I turned back I noticed it wasn't really a tree at all, but a fat naked white woman lashed up to the fence. She was blond and ugly and toothless with a whiny voice (i think she was the egg man lady) but she had these big glorious wings that were spread out and it was on each feather that these symbols were painted. She started whining at me that of course we couldn't cut her down but that in fact we should paint a white sash on her that said happy new years. I wandered away then, around the corner, away from my dad and the creepy angel. I forget exactly what I encountered around the corner but it asked me a question and I responded "confirmation bias" and started explaining how he was wrong, that what had happened didn't really, that it was just confirmation bias. Then I woke up.<br />
<br />
The second dream was just now, in the middle of the day and freaked me out enough that I couldn't go back to sleep. I dreamed that I was in chachapoyas having a nap early in the morning but then woke up and it was night and I had slept all day and my friend Josh was knocking on my door. I answered and he was acting really weird and kind of upset, which was really disturbing me until I realized he just would feel better if I cut his hair, which had gotten really long. By the time I finished, Adam was awake and all these other 17ers had come in. We all decided we wanted to go to this little cafe that serves hot cocoa with rum, because it was really cold out. But on the way there we encountered this construction in the street and crossing involved some very scary feats. We had to cross all these pits of hot lava/gas/water/unidentified black goo using this super janky peruvian scaffolding, swinging around on all these super slippery poles and gratings that were right above the steam. At the end you ended up in a really high place where you were being held by a crane cord that would then swing you. It took three big swings before you had to let go and land in a giant dumpster full of water, where you could climb out finally safe on the other side. We did it one by one, super scared, except for the last girl, the only other 15er there, who was last and did it all badass having fun. We all ended up covered in burning tar by the end. We stopped to take showers before getting our cocoa but I realized we were stopping at the same hostel we had all started at on the other side of the construction and we were all like, "oh man, we sure got peru'ed!" We were trying to get all the sludge off and this nice man was making us pizza and kept bringing out the cutting board with fresh shredded cheese on it for us to snack on, which was deliciously magical. We were all still really shooken up trying to wash off though and we couldn't get clean and one of the 17ers was super upset because another 17er was pregnant (though really they were the same 17er, in some confusing dream way) and we were all burned from the hot tar. I woke up really concerned that I was in bed with tar still on me and my ear still hurts like I can't get the tar out. Screwed up dream.<br />
<br />
I am on vacation. It's really nice. It's my last vacation.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-63221662174290813382012-01-06T09:07:00.000-08:002012-01-06T09:07:35.270-08:00This is the year I will set foot home again.Roadside diners, the places where my busses stop and have us all get off for a quick and dirty menú, have become one of my favorite things. I don't know why. They are gross and awesome. They are like the fast food of Peru. I have two: one on the way to Chiclayo, that is just a little joint by the orange bridge, and one on the way to Chota, that is in the plaza of the little town of Chancay Baños.<br />
<br />
You get there and you have just a couple of options - maybe pollo guisado, carne guisado, arroz con pollo, and sopa de res - and you are like, "Man, those have to be the four least appetizing Peruvian dishes. Guess I'll get the arroz con pollo, again, because at least it's not <i>completely</i> buried in grease." Then you dig in with a spoon and your fingers, trying to find the meat lost in the rice and you get covered in grease anyways and you pour on the ají, even though it looks like you may lose your intenstinal wall later from it, and it burns til you are crying and they bring you a nasty, nasty chicha morada to wash it down and all you have to clean up with are these little strips of glossy and completely unabsorbant recycled paper. And when you get back on the bus, all you <i>can</i> do is pass out.<br />
<br />
God, it's great.<br />
<br />
I just finished vacation. Went to Máncora, which may be the playground of the Devil himself. I don't really have a whole lot to say about it except if you've never been to Spring Break Cancún, friends and neighbors, you can probably just go to New Year's Eve Máncora and you've done it all. It's complete wall to wall youthful insanity. It was a great time. I will absolutely never go again.<br />
<br />
Things in site may actually go well now that I have just given in and started giving these people what they want (instead of what they need.) I have agreed to teach almost constant English classes for the duration of rainy season and I busted out the money bags. I told them I can help them start finding international grant money for whatever project they can come up with. The deal is they have to sit with me daily for a couple of weeks first learning to write a good project proposal, sustainability plan, and budget. <br />
<br />
They like this idea. So, I will be teaching Project Design and Management courses to groups of four to five people pretty much daily. Then I will help them apply for international grants. The Muni wants to go big. They want to deign a project to build a water system and a trash disposal system for the entire town and apply to Engineers Without Borders. Holy shit. If we could get that done - I would be pleased enough with my service.<br />
<br />
I am liking life. Though even through the busy fog, I miss home more than ever these days. Just over 6 more months, people!Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-48060264945191243042011-12-14T17:47:00.000-08:002011-12-16T07:27:36.006-08:00Falta NecesidadOk, Gramma says it's time to blog again, though I feel I may have little to say. Anyone reading this is prolly relieved to hear that. Let's start with the good.<br />
<br />
The Good:<br />
<ul><li>I went to some hot springs today with my mom. All day long. It was super awesome.</li>
<li>I actually love cuy. I was eating it for lunch today and realized that I now seem to find it one of the most delicious foods ever. Only took one hundred or so times to finally work its way into my heart.</li>
<li>Science Club finished almost all our projects. We now play with microscopes and telescopes and look at our world mural while eating foods from countries around the world and listen to music that I pretend is from that country. It's nice.</li>
<li>It's Christmas. I love Christmas.</li>
<li>I had a couple great trips of late. Thanksgiving in a friend's site on the beach near Trujillo with like 40 friggin volunteers. Ate the most delicious foods ever. Ran my first 5k. Went to Lima to see the boy. Got stuck in Chiclayo eating pizza for an extra couple of days due to roadblocks.</li>
<li>The strike is over. Or at least suspended while they militarize before they try building the mine again.</li>
<li>We had a little Xmas party in Chota, where we ate a bunch of delicious food around the family dining table, exchanged white elephant gifts, and then went and ate cecina that was more delicious than I knew cecina could be, and drank all the beers.</li>
<li>One of my banks is nearing completion of its first year! Every member is excited to restart for another year and there are members lining up to join. More banks are on the way...</li>
<li>I have less than 8 months left... Then I get to see my family and eat a real cheeseburger again!</li>
<li>They finished widening and gravelling the road all the way from Chiclayo to here! Now they are working there way from here to Chota! It's amazing. My road is almost reasonable now. </li>
</ul>The Bad:<br />
<ul><li>At the hot springs today, I learned that it's official. I do not like playing with children. Except for specific children that I like, such as my friends kids and my nieces and such. But random groups of children of strangers? Leave me alone.</li>
<li>The Muni finally grew a pair and told me to give up on the library idea, as they were never going to help me and were never going to encourage anyone else to help me because reading is stupid and no one wants to do it. They admitted that the many many promises were all lies. I will instead be setting up a library at one lucky school. They love it.</li>
<li>It's Christmas. Christmas makes me miss my family and my Gramma's house. Also, my facebook feed is full of every other volunteer and their lovely trips home for Xmas. Wimps. Dammit.</li>
<li>Rainy season is upon us. My family leaves on Saturday for four months. The rest of the town will be following right behind. It is going to be a long, hard, and lonely one. I am currently seeking new projects to keep myself sane.</li>
<li>No matter how much they fix up the road, they don't make the drivers be any less drunk.</li>
<li>I have a sore throat. Almost always.</li>
<li>Did I mention rainy season?</li>
</ul>The Strange:<br />
<ul><li>I am scared of going home in eight months.</li>
<li>I am a rollercoaster less than ever. I love-hate this place. It doesn't even change anymore. I don't go back and forth on loving it then hating it. I both all the time. It will never cease to amaze and fascinate me. Home seems so sterile compared. But hot water...</li>
</ul>The Things I Miss:<br />
<ul><li>English</li>
<li>Anonymity</li>
<li>Bagels</li>
<li>Yards</li>
<li>Maple trees</li>
<li>Bacon</li>
<li>Various People</li>
<li>Closets</li>
<li>Not feeling awkward</li>
<li>Convenience stores</li>
<li>Convenience in general</li>
<li>Quiet</li>
<li>Stocked kitchens</li>
<li>Toasters</li>
<li>Tiled bathroom floors</li>
<li>Clean pets</li>
<li>Couches and comfy chairs</li>
<li>Even remote punctuality</li>
<li>Melty cheeses and bready breads</li>
<li>Room to walk down the sidewalk</li>
<li>Lawsuits</li>
<li>Customer service</li>
<li>Ice cubes</li>
<li>Hot water on tap</li>
<li>Drinking water on tap</li>
<li>Snow</li>
<li>Comfortable vehicles</li>
<li>Safe Vehicles</li>
<li>Functional vehicles</li>
<li>Variety in music</li>
<li>Polite children</li>
<li>Polite adults</li>
<li>To-go cups</li>
<li>Hours of operation</li>
<li>Diversity</li>
<li>Readers</li>
<li>TV</li>
<li>Clean smells</li>
<li>Washing machines</li>
<li>Dryers</li>
<li>Autumn leaves</li>
</ul>Things I Will Miss:<br />
<ul><li>CuyAnticuchoCecinaPapasRellenasCevicheAjiDeGallinaHuancayina</li>
<li>Daily dangers</li>
<li>Castillos</li>
<li>Dogs with their own lives & personalities</li>
<li>Huayno</li>
<li>Various people</li>
<li>Lima</li>
<li>The selva</li>
<li>Taxi cab conversations</li>
<li>Strange volunteer culture</li>
<li>Standard volunteer conversations</li>
<li>Mind blowing absurdity</li>
</ul>Why am I writing this right now? I shouls save this for when I am actually leaving...<br />
<br />
I will be on the beach in Mancora for New Yers. Y'all should come. Sounds like a retarded version of Spring Break Cancun. Why am I doing this? Hahaha. I need to sleep. Chao.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-84169104914625582922011-11-09T09:30:00.000-08:002011-11-09T09:30:52.286-08:00Photos. Because I don't care to write anymore.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAgWLV5ghpgaocNyQcvqy31hJHkVhwLsN69x413X1bHjzhZGBlRyUJE3TABjtumwmGs0iAD2Wxt_3g0l1jVb-eKj_P-Lt-JeJhDt3yg06sDL0NzWAviQKcNPElGpSwhR5ON2Ytojp4ecL/s1600/100_1107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmAgWLV5ghpgaocNyQcvqy31hJHkVhwLsN69x413X1bHjzhZGBlRyUJE3TABjtumwmGs0iAD2Wxt_3g0l1jVb-eKj_P-Lt-JeJhDt3yg06sDL0NzWAviQKcNPElGpSwhR5ON2Ytojp4ecL/s320/100_1107.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I learned to make cheese. We do lots of things with it in Chota now. This is fresh ricotta. It's delicious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1AEF8YruTg65Dg9eJx7C-PAuBeguK0VFMqSpe5v11U46nV9iOmdwuqHwsIxH9yp8Qk6aPMRxDn_VT3-4aUzONFrkHCV5Q0fuyxIBO16HJ3iFtNrL80NHw01QSTnu7jproerKtJlM-cKv/s1600/100_1108.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1AEF8YruTg65Dg9eJx7C-PAuBeguK0VFMqSpe5v11U46nV9iOmdwuqHwsIxH9yp8Qk6aPMRxDn_VT3-4aUzONFrkHCV5Q0fuyxIBO16HJ3iFtNrL80NHw01QSTnu7jproerKtJlM-cKv/s320/100_1108.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here we are assembling calzones with it. Roasted red pepper and tomato sauce. Also delicious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwrq3Q-5ENsbEAbTyRvDtF-FarKBA5_nb-6Rzf7byduMwYzoBrq5D7suy38IODy1rKIjG2MwjePo5c_A59IzbdbnbmlGLjOA7YXgyEYJDft836_uuWihy6KiSq_CMS3lgETgJAn_8JCTy/s1600/100_1118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwrq3Q-5ENsbEAbTyRvDtF-FarKBA5_nb-6Rzf7byduMwYzoBrq5D7suy38IODy1rKIjG2MwjePo5c_A59IzbdbnbmlGLjOA7YXgyEYJDft836_uuWihy6KiSq_CMS3lgETgJAn_8JCTy/s320/100_1118.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Microfinance meeting in the middle of the market.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumhl5bvjvEgdcr9o_8jBPQW9ddVE0SzWZR215CwzB-VWC7I8nU3lqipdnfhna904tPJjhUpMdtSSzoZj5YCC1jcoOjyI65zkTaiNkOU3Yb38QeN6N0-kLnu2F5nGuPQJ3YZN8D8RdYO3m/s1600/100_1119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumhl5bvjvEgdcr9o_8jBPQW9ddVE0SzWZR215CwzB-VWC7I8nU3lqipdnfhna904tPJjhUpMdtSSzoZj5YCC1jcoOjyI65zkTaiNkOU3Yb38QeN6N0-kLnu2F5nGuPQJ3YZN8D8RdYO3m/s320/100_1119.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching. An unbelieveably frustrating process here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5pnjfZVjhrWL0Xs1MEM9GiTk3zzA6kP1vt9P-62bVnb05y4jUfTnh18iz1-j7wDB9aeD3KMVvLeH3O7uYOlkScWmN8ynAu_6xm1CNwn6HVpbXVd4fHf89YUGEjWBG6_DuaPgKeoTEfNg/s1600/100_1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5pnjfZVjhrWL0Xs1MEM9GiTk3zzA6kP1vt9P-62bVnb05y4jUfTnh18iz1-j7wDB9aeD3KMVvLeH3O7uYOlkScWmN8ynAu_6xm1CNwn6HVpbXVd4fHf89YUGEjWBG6_DuaPgKeoTEfNg/s320/100_1141.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting to prepare the mural project with my geeky girl club.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjM73E9BlY6z-D6nd6XsUrCBUzFgdw0QM5AFx8cdR-FHF3dw8t6r5lyki5WxOBRY81Px6EtkLCZUduo8f2SNLXSmlNVldLBnDu6S1QFLWm7Ky7Jvq6qsVXLiU8sSFU3GrgwNr-ylsdyWs_/s1600/100_1159.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjM73E9BlY6z-D6nd6XsUrCBUzFgdw0QM5AFx8cdR-FHF3dw8t6r5lyki5WxOBRY81Px6EtkLCZUduo8f2SNLXSmlNVldLBnDu6S1QFLWm7Ky7Jvq6qsVXLiU8sSFU3GrgwNr-ylsdyWs_/s320/100_1159.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super geeky girls. I love them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw17_FLXwpZODaiaTa1JR-_HzM1CLXBtagbtdyBRDCSZCFYoKCYgk50wR8abSiaONbJv2fFmhqra6N0lBgHpQZph1JGUR2AcQTuS3V-XGLUgpVnCZgh9lYA7ODLN3rYUu1uAj7G7hH1_9Q/s1600/100_1209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw17_FLXwpZODaiaTa1JR-_HzM1CLXBtagbtdyBRDCSZCFYoKCYgk50wR8abSiaONbJv2fFmhqra6N0lBgHpQZph1JGUR2AcQTuS3V-XGLUgpVnCZgh9lYA7ODLN3rYUu1uAj7G7hH1_9Q/s320/100_1209.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was inexplicable parade #408, I think.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Map of the province almost done. We are in the yellow district.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Starting country map.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">End of another day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beginning of yet another day. My geeky girls work while my brother and his dorky friends play video games.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom brought us all out tamale snacks and juice.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCDTTTVc0enBINeJtJQxxrPJYqZz93wMq-2JJ64koe4CvvwAm63U9WCqMtNGHo3aJtIWXBJrEou0cTiRuhF5QR5Pos4eU3vIUlL5bDSdxQ496DyZX3gf4_hZr0_y1mOKymVwP-5lkqKyL/s1600/100_1267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnCDTTTVc0enBINeJtJQxxrPJYqZz93wMq-2JJ64koe4CvvwAm63U9WCqMtNGHo3aJtIWXBJrEou0cTiRuhF5QR5Pos4eU3vIUlL5bDSdxQ496DyZX3gf4_hZr0_y1mOKymVwP-5lkqKyL/s320/100_1267.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is my please-don't-put-anymore-paint-in-my-hair,-girls face.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPC5u0rgQcbsacbMSWdyYGJpxww4gpoknbfZdBpOaClcl-JSrjDkFT-1pjnsxLhxPIfJTzmq7F3nOy-ySAGkn5IKxeghtUbLA4GO8c78XkQOyg61YqjBXJM1DvEqtNHp7cMwdxV-mzcsxv/s1600/100_1308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPC5u0rgQcbsacbMSWdyYGJpxww4gpoknbfZdBpOaClcl-JSrjDkFT-1pjnsxLhxPIfJTzmq7F3nOy-ySAGkn5IKxeghtUbLA4GO8c78XkQOyg61YqjBXJM1DvEqtNHp7cMwdxV-mzcsxv/s320/100_1308.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of yet another day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-19474693417400415932011-11-09T09:22:00.000-08:002011-11-09T09:52:15.864-08:00The Great Amazon River Raft Race 2011As promised, a brief (edit: not brief) synopsis of my visit to the jungle.<br />
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Signed up for the Great Amazon River Raft Race. Teams of four, three days, build a raft and paddle it 180 km down the Amazon. Not really any idea of what to expect here... The website pretty much just said, Not for the faint of heart. It also said that raft building supplies, food, and lodging were to be provided for the 500 dollar per team registration. Whether or not these things were provided is still up to debate...<br />
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We flew to Iquitos on the 4th of October. The schedule read that this night was the "Welcome Rafters" party, the next day was free to explore Iquitos and shop, the next day was raft building, and then three days of paddling, each night staying on school floors or in tents in little jungle villages. The race ends back in Iquitos and we fly back to Lima the next day (you can only get to Iquitos by boat or plan - largest city in the world with no road access, with comething like 350,000 people.)<br />
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We got there and the team met up. The Velocirafters! Well, me and Sara and Rob met up. Jose, my friend from site who was supposed to be on our team, Peru-ed that night, texting to say he couldn't make it, have fun! Friggin' jerk. Still doesn't even get that this was a big deal.<br />
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Anyways, the little riverfront area of Iquitos, where the party was and we sat at the lovely expat bars all day is called the Malecón. It's very nice.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHo3C4H469E7trZkCR4iZp_3q-RXwDsIEa5HU68nIIOXVUuMiMawD6zQs4qUHgHnoMRd2NBkher4GT_9W7PbhKHmkWLjh6TPFebaXlf2y7jpcHYLkRpZAAzxAcxOD0F-ZwKOACJqJ7TTQm/s1600/100_0954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHo3C4H469E7trZkCR4iZp_3q-RXwDsIEa5HU68nIIOXVUuMiMawD6zQs4qUHgHnoMRd2NBkher4GT_9W7PbhKHmkWLjh6TPFebaXlf2y7jpcHYLkRpZAAzxAcxOD0F-ZwKOACJqJ7TTQm/s320/100_0954.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I told Rob he would be either the photographer or the star of all my photos. Mostly he took the rest of my pictures. At the riverfront bar here.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_Nc68c4UGkDuI6SYnMWe_cGyA3NPM-U02sdeBKFT5KuB-w9ohnWHbtnGjgOnSo7xXoL38Ar1xYMZtDnJRjW8y3hM1QcK2Ok7CzJwVjji7vdqktCS8GZ96149XkUSsYhTVnDzC6X0paaN/s1600/100_0957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7_Nc68c4UGkDuI6SYnMWe_cGyA3NPM-U02sdeBKFT5KuB-w9ohnWHbtnGjgOnSo7xXoL38Ar1xYMZtDnJRjW8y3hM1QcK2Ok7CzJwVjji7vdqktCS8GZ96149XkUSsYhTVnDzC6X0paaN/s320/100_0957.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lovely view over the Amazon from the boardwalk.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boardwalk Malecón, Iquitos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMF1MObGxB13oXtufok9xbFR6IT-3jXcVWPHXaA0eyhP8Hy2pjaOpybi2yVLhQoXokaW0TcCJ7d8oAuCpyBov9HK6A29VoiT4atMMd9xZyzKADjhyphenhyphennyF4ztmy9ifWSoDGLxn-hXl6ZibWS/s1600/100_0962.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMF1MObGxB13oXtufok9xbFR6IT-3jXcVWPHXaA0eyhP8Hy2pjaOpybi2yVLhQoXokaW0TcCJ7d8oAuCpyBov9HK6A29VoiT4atMMd9xZyzKADjhyphenhyphennyF4ztmy9ifWSoDGLxn-hXl6ZibWS/s320/100_0962.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No child sex tourism is allowed in Iquitos. That's nice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-iYX5bR1NEgnLXpoECvC1YDMgrf751SC_wNA5TmkZchXbYEPjGIKbjj_8IuVX9b6ZgBoE6d5ylYXfpRH_inxwxirHYLTgDALC-UMRLg0UoF__BR7783dY6CnvADJcNaCjyE2sXwtQOxO/s1600/100_0964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy-iYX5bR1NEgnLXpoECvC1YDMgrf751SC_wNA5TmkZchXbYEPjGIKbjj_8IuVX9b6ZgBoE6d5ylYXfpRH_inxwxirHYLTgDALC-UMRLg0UoF__BR7783dY6CnvADJcNaCjyE2sXwtQOxO/s320/100_0964.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was our team mascot, Humphrey. He hung on our raft but was stolen the first night of the race. I cried a little. But check out the sweet cozie on that beer! Beers actually come COLD in the jungle!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOzPO__r0w-oaPAHGM39WaPeJT0ATyow_YUrpxQd-8EpoQNNCxSEwlUTZDeO3rKseN-neCceEgsbrOh_xdcM591Ga4V8ndrZwN1L9sJTVEY-Z2vYsvMmCh4SYpqg4gr5Cw2Z47zDdxeBj/s1600/100_0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOzPO__r0w-oaPAHGM39WaPeJT0ATyow_YUrpxQd-8EpoQNNCxSEwlUTZDeO3rKseN-neCceEgsbrOh_xdcM591Ga4V8ndrZwN1L9sJTVEY-Z2vYsvMmCh4SYpqg4gr5Cw2Z47zDdxeBj/s320/100_0967.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Welcome Rafters party.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyxcmP48ajnoQqNJXK490kz2zx4Vg-iOO5PsLPhBWme23tG_wvgyf6fKFjvONtRJ9QsKbZrvF8ZQegsBDYG3ydAdO4akVOCSrWGm5ZL8_oVgwoTofnxxMNvu4G_r2VrUeMteFwc3dRQMz/s1600/100_0977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyxcmP48ajnoQqNJXK490kz2zx4Vg-iOO5PsLPhBWme23tG_wvgyf6fKFjvONtRJ9QsKbZrvF8ZQegsBDYG3ydAdO4akVOCSrWGm5ZL8_oVgwoTofnxxMNvu4G_r2VrUeMteFwc3dRQMz/s320/100_0977.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Crazy Cuys team.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZfdBSxT6KHE5MZ-Gm19_Gt5AOTwpQHjvmNf9xmLHZM5szuachEhrXzJZlStZIUAyIkIIanl-90QZqUEam78CXYF03dXayyLrKNB1u0FiqeKVs09ET-Y4s16QkVtj8DFFwsG88dKLlNAH/s1600/100_0979.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZfdBSxT6KHE5MZ-Gm19_Gt5AOTwpQHjvmNf9xmLHZM5szuachEhrXzJZlStZIUAyIkIIanl-90QZqUEam78CXYF03dXayyLrKNB1u0FiqeKVs09ET-Y4s16QkVtj8DFFwsG88dKLlNAH/s320/100_0979.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cobbs and friend Mike. Our archnemesis team - The River City Donkey Show.</td></tr>
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The day after the big party, I went with some friends to check out the Iquitos market and we also wanted to find someone to take us on a boat tour of the floating town of Belén that we had heard about.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy_NTuZGrO-AnIY74WEEwheYWu7x5kJOgr1VQFq8Z-y_3fBvXF-loiCQxIFCUGTJseR6qtl6CiPJsNt_BYpu0vfUKXt7M-xSlZzPK6jsTc8qSAm4y7CzFoErYrFWh86k-1YEP4oSsiiDM/s1600/100_0982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy_NTuZGrO-AnIY74WEEwheYWu7x5kJOgr1VQFq8Z-y_3fBvXF-loiCQxIFCUGTJseR6qtl6CiPJsNt_BYpu0vfUKXt7M-xSlZzPK6jsTc8qSAm4y7CzFoErYrFWh86k-1YEP4oSsiiDM/s320/100_0982.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Iquitos has the most charming combis I have seen yet.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7D3S-fMY-dAn-i3hE2QQWSBACtllfwVC1l8OcxnE_q2qnunmu0ZSkJ9tTvb4SQ8s24ztaaZaGQE0ccCwBdhVK6vbIOpowMItVo1dI_JGTGBlqUn_-neCr6xTtkeJkLxAEraCWJaJ862fp/s1600/100_0983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7D3S-fMY-dAn-i3hE2QQWSBACtllfwVC1l8OcxnE_q2qnunmu0ZSkJ9tTvb4SQ8s24ztaaZaGQE0ccCwBdhVK6vbIOpowMItVo1dI_JGTGBlqUn_-neCr6xTtkeJkLxAEraCWJaJ862fp/s320/100_0983.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turtle meat in the market.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihRcjTxFqvJ10Fu7vRqbVG6B-Ekj4RBBJj4SUL2K-dC0uCFmvR_3hnGdxcwgmCM9XlUtQskpmxShpz6pdYaXh9u3br8UXy7KDRPUoQovSjJmStHbCrIQe8hPF6QBos8ZQVt_bgTdl2SGv1/s1600/100_0985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihRcjTxFqvJ10Fu7vRqbVG6B-Ekj4RBBJj4SUL2K-dC0uCFmvR_3hnGdxcwgmCM9XlUtQskpmxShpz6pdYaXh9u3br8UXy7KDRPUoQovSjJmStHbCrIQe8hPF6QBos8ZQVt_bgTdl2SGv1/s320/100_0985.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating market grubs. It was actually pretty delicious. Buttery.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIasaSFFmaxrX7IyqesTXRSKwfUi6i9eTkX5tMO6gYbz3ky-l12mDh2111Pk9Ccapnch9gPM2r9pv5d5lx5kRufgLq_h-lyWGygRAVfrYcwN2AJopGlW1eFJXbnwZnTp8xpS4A-UCIOHnq/s1600/100_0987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIasaSFFmaxrX7IyqesTXRSKwfUi6i9eTkX5tMO6gYbz3ky-l12mDh2111Pk9Ccapnch9gPM2r9pv5d5lx5kRufgLq_h-lyWGygRAVfrYcwN2AJopGlW1eFJXbnwZnTp8xpS4A-UCIOHnq/s320/100_0987.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Found a boat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEbuRadU4YD3p99WTM27zuYJyp5a8bUU6JAxkfI1RTNSmiCjNtuC1uIVn7ETETlORAZqSOgnvniy1qFX0QgFNKEGuw5a14KtYFQd1-WfpV7TgwHX6Ox8hb5lEbAl2-XVn_iAlJmE5FMPj/s1600/100_0992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEbuRadU4YD3p99WTM27zuYJyp5a8bUU6JAxkfI1RTNSmiCjNtuC1uIVn7ETETlORAZqSOgnvniy1qFX0QgFNKEGuw5a14KtYFQd1-WfpV7TgwHX6Ox8hb5lEbAl2-XVn_iAlJmE5FMPj/s320/100_0992.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think Belén was the most impoverished place I have visited yet in Perú. It was an interesting place, but also a bit heartbreaking.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv4ce90H_AeNKy4Ruh8DM7jlpwJ2zo9crPn1WR6_TNwFUC4ilZSP5TB23LChmYt8YPG2u3Gn01_52iBoZKbXqgSuUnn4h8QxPAbvhCGIYkXZH_1uy7Qk_5bvvP2Y-FuDAOSbX5SoK5ot-j/s1600/100_0997.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv4ce90H_AeNKy4Ruh8DM7jlpwJ2zo9crPn1WR6_TNwFUC4ilZSP5TB23LChmYt8YPG2u3Gn01_52iBoZKbXqgSuUnn4h8QxPAbvhCGIYkXZH_1uy7Qk_5bvvP2Y-FuDAOSbX5SoK5ot-j/s320/100_0997.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Belén bar.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHqzSwpeNPR9XuYjwfW7NGJPQZvsa6R_De5LZhg9IaM5JsV16Cz97zSuaAP6Et6qDJZi9nceqmjP8bJROOp1Ta7T1YTgAeB9-PPlcNpJFMC8FrPXJH3XTUfkTO8UFAsrBrpdsFOFHUE0K/s1600/100_0998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHqzSwpeNPR9XuYjwfW7NGJPQZvsa6R_De5LZhg9IaM5JsV16Cz97zSuaAP6Et6qDJZi9nceqmjP8bJROOp1Ta7T1YTgAeB9-PPlcNpJFMC8FrPXJH3XTUfkTO8UFAsrBrpdsFOFHUE0K/s320/100_0998.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rob and some folks fishing on their porch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMcjU1DAf7X3U-y9WfxOxuPd6WTGyOmPVQXN7COcK5hyphenhyphenTpRJUz2iqGVskVuDOlVTXp5ipSh70zoMGiGmNniQM-W2ToguWMzjGlacPG99CTKQt83hR0Wloj5ecf7PxNcDBA1FpBxwm0VvW/s1600/100_1005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgMcjU1DAf7X3U-y9WfxOxuPd6WTGyOmPVQXN7COcK5hyphenhyphenTpRJUz2iqGVskVuDOlVTXp5ipSh70zoMGiGmNniQM-W2ToguWMzjGlacPG99CTKQt83hR0Wloj5ecf7PxNcDBA1FpBxwm0VvW/s320/100_1005.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were packed in a very small boat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPulI0ifcUdn5N6miwUtOIRUQ8svtL_sJS2nIzvr2Q1tqA5aL3MMOJtrUyQgVSBTXs9Wkq1a-x6EFVzuOkg4Gjd8WUChUzCdHFcnncpHmXZeEPHYcqAVlXshKYtPRfWJb8uLzIj4rZNNTF/s1600/100_1012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPulI0ifcUdn5N6miwUtOIRUQ8svtL_sJS2nIzvr2Q1tqA5aL3MMOJtrUyQgVSBTXs9Wkq1a-x6EFVzuOkg4Gjd8WUChUzCdHFcnncpHmXZeEPHYcqAVlXshKYtPRfWJb8uLzIj4rZNNTF/s320/100_1012.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Belén church. Yes, that is where the water level rises to in the wet season.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdiBoIoZ7Mhg5V6I454zGXUM3xrN_-lH0XcdnhyphenhyphenOB94hODHrHhsLI3p8MOVVOdEu3HBiwYutp8Mwd9m4TKVlPlChuxdPKkGJEl-qMyZ3yfTrlhSIbAyb0r7Mh1fkeiwT4rEK8vo9P8LDoP/s1600/100_1016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdiBoIoZ7Mhg5V6I454zGXUM3xrN_-lH0XcdnhyphenhyphenOB94hODHrHhsLI3p8MOVVOdEu3HBiwYutp8Mwd9m4TKVlPlChuxdPKkGJEl-qMyZ3yfTrlhSIbAyb0r7Mh1fkeiwT4rEK8vo9P8LDoP/s320/100_1016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see how the houses are built on logs to float up with the water level.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboYBOG6ZfXS9CBxVUuC8jLtEQYX0Ev2FJfkvvtsskZxFfVCD9pEc9xvm-ungfDGXZzF1_Eb2r1jEF3ty_HNM-Xemo-_fr97ERiX3Eyi2e52OAfQH9HGmmBjzA86Ims8fZ_TApbYDr21Gg/s1600/100_1019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiboYBOG6ZfXS9CBxVUuC8jLtEQYX0Ev2FJfkvvtsskZxFfVCD9pEc9xvm-ungfDGXZzF1_Eb2r1jEF3ty_HNM-Xemo-_fr97ERiX3Eyi2e52OAfQH9HGmmBjzA86Ims8fZ_TApbYDr21Gg/s320/100_1019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZJdDdhJz2qEulrrJdbpsl9IQ576MCO1IAsJ15G8UaEq6AtuObnCJzuTN9TLJi8IENewd4WCSplV_Y1FGx4DuqeWWBG-lUjDuvLFAO9-DIAqtVjcDtLS_z8BtlstXZGUALU_TSirAS-7a/s1600/100_1020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwZJdDdhJz2qEulrrJdbpsl9IQ576MCO1IAsJ15G8UaEq6AtuObnCJzuTN9TLJi8IENewd4WCSplV_Y1FGx4DuqeWWBG-lUjDuvLFAO9-DIAqtVjcDtLS_z8BtlstXZGUALU_TSirAS-7a/s320/100_1020.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Floating gas station boat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUDQrOuEgOpfsOMrpCl-uaBSJ0RGrPgQSYWxHJqB6ujoamzDQcYMROBiCN40xM6rZ6MHmsMZ78AQBzR3lvs5NlgG5L3vo8h1WoyGxCEhwhgqY4348dSktb4eEkMxdnQ-BhgldgRHhiWBc/s1600/100_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUDQrOuEgOpfsOMrpCl-uaBSJ0RGrPgQSYWxHJqB6ujoamzDQcYMROBiCN40xM6rZ6MHmsMZ78AQBzR3lvs5NlgG5L3vo8h1WoyGxCEhwhgqY4348dSktb4eEkMxdnQ-BhgldgRHhiWBc/s320/100_1024.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Latrines. Right into the river.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbVrtJoJ5WckpZc4U1f2YoW9YRkRjuqOZTq27EAVBMFwqd36tdhgDfzqhAG2bv5nDt08lez8oHw11egm4UAhTpMLskX9MHNcP8Ls2XGWOi-AqpFIswBppGYh3m5DmCTLJ0wfsJjl32dcG/s1600/100_1025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkbVrtJoJ5WckpZc4U1f2YoW9YRkRjuqOZTq27EAVBMFwqd36tdhgDfzqhAG2bv5nDt08lez8oHw11egm4UAhTpMLskX9MHNcP8Ls2XGWOi-AqpFIswBppGYh3m5DmCTLJ0wfsJjl32dcG/s320/100_1025.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Went behind a guys house to see some giant lily pads.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyMkgq0DbNjCgHH9NybTYrjlVSJ2Pmqq0u0zzCMc50DpTHnx_JdhCroNjAnjyNG_ZV0MJ7GorbbBsRA4-NP0dN_Mmh1mfvarea9Xg9QFflvPi9cMz4Wpeo9i0I9qXUoLqPYWzdcGChyphenhyphendN/s1600/100_1027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyMkgq0DbNjCgHH9NybTYrjlVSJ2Pmqq0u0zzCMc50DpTHnx_JdhCroNjAnjyNG_ZV0MJ7GorbbBsRA4-NP0dN_Mmh1mfvarea9Xg9QFflvPi9cMz4Wpeo9i0I9qXUoLqPYWzdcGChyphenhyphendN/s320/100_1027.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are stangely evil looking things.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXk07aLHUGIERYnF0LHXrpA0Y-knR82VZ9VqdCLmOtZwOLd8aHqjuFuQnDFaR8apBAhAbm4LfYb7MHUNCPJt0ujZuNXFZKJihSgfjojZdXngrZSTo_0HM752JCSjWyWZdFYaIMNO3waw18/s1600/100_1028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXk07aLHUGIERYnF0LHXrpA0Y-knR82VZ9VqdCLmOtZwOLd8aHqjuFuQnDFaR8apBAhAbm4LfYb7MHUNCPJt0ujZuNXFZKJihSgfjojZdXngrZSTo_0HM752JCSjWyWZdFYaIMNO3waw18/s320/100_1028.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
We explored some of the little villlage areas there, saw the school and the houses. As I said, really interesting, but pretty sad. No one had any sort of amenities. Everyone was very small and not healthy. We were kind of melancholy when we went back to Iquitos.<br />
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We then had to spend the remainder of the day buying raft supplies, ie, something to sit on, some shade, any other little luxuries we wanted. And of course we went back to the malecón and had more cold beers. COLD. And we ate alligator burgers. Yum.<br />
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I don't have many pictures after this, just a few. I didn't use my camera much on the raft, but you can see some tagged pics on the facebook from other people who did. So the next morning we had to get all of our stuff down to the plaza nice and early to pile all 180-something rafters and all their schwag onto a bunch of buses to go the two hours upstream to Nauta, where we would launch from.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENfx0_u_OMCvzhNReVaQ4hnh8kSbDP_s6NbS4E-gPvDttcrnoDEwVtunerx8QfVvksrJPPI1V88KUAw4Xys0r2RJhWvTjVr6oLFJqlDZTwvoOPefs4hc802sQQcwNnw0gz5mAO-qSdnzq/s1600/100_1034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiENfx0_u_OMCvzhNReVaQ4hnh8kSbDP_s6NbS4E-gPvDttcrnoDEwVtunerx8QfVvksrJPPI1V88KUAw4Xys0r2RJhWvTjVr6oLFJqlDZTwvoOPefs4hc802sQQcwNnw0gz5mAO-qSdnzq/s320/100_1034.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting in the Iquitos plaza. Kelsi is super stylish.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLD8zcn0da-TSwPe7mIGZXrN7r7SxSYQsjuqK_sMTIbJR-bvTy3N1IM5JOnituI-nAWXUIA8sk9cIgcQ8cAgCcn2fahmfiRvY1X3lDhdCI0zAxjghxHRpmMP2Kyy0YxUTIfN-czzTnrSs/s1600/100_1039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiLD8zcn0da-TSwPe7mIGZXrN7r7SxSYQsjuqK_sMTIbJR-bvTy3N1IM5JOnituI-nAWXUIA8sk9cIgcQ8cAgCcn2fahmfiRvY1X3lDhdCI0zAxjghxHRpmMP2Kyy0YxUTIfN-czzTnrSs/s320/100_1039.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silly bus games.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMxgcqu4JrDuDg1YhjgbqPSJOahuR4NPFNO59A7PVB4la2rj6i1pGjfbK5Rp0RK0HMIGKHsrXSPNZj4mnL0jDG28DNXshvZaqqhz2svR3LWJ0R9K36r4qOfE1AzOO3lXWuzydNJ5OUHNj/s1600/100_1037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsMxgcqu4JrDuDg1YhjgbqPSJOahuR4NPFNO59A7PVB4la2rj6i1pGjfbK5Rp0RK0HMIGKHsrXSPNZj4mnL0jDG28DNXshvZaqqhz2svR3LWJ0R9K36r4qOfE1AzOO3lXWuzydNJ5OUHNj/s320/100_1037.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where the bus of course got a flat. Fortunately we had a roadside food vendor and got to chomp on grilled bananas and juantes while we waited.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lFcwqhS31lVoKOKJcJ8vXwjJXyCdZZQ2CRX5jbpuB-g_exE0Y2jta5HaVMokpOW-utamFDOBOpkctQrQuJVQsHtTIu9iaWplUC4sELLDtC-buCDrBqgWvJpIPrz99WdypYof9uRMRuBH/s1600/100_1041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7lFcwqhS31lVoKOKJcJ8vXwjJXyCdZZQ2CRX5jbpuB-g_exE0Y2jta5HaVMokpOW-utamFDOBOpkctQrQuJVQsHtTIu9iaWplUC4sELLDtC-buCDrBqgWvJpIPrz99WdypYof9uRMRuBH/s320/100_1041.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They had a town party for us all in Nauta.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtF7_ugL6skOFBIROlfROEXEaFW2niNsbMn5SJ1A1svaUC5ED4oPwk63bIYWBncyxiriM6XT_wttyoPTGlJnUvMpp0fbb9iUoqTifzShe4YOYFTOQxe4JqWcX-BirwkWSlzs0XdZDFJk1T/s1600/100_1045.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtF7_ugL6skOFBIROlfROEXEaFW2niNsbMn5SJ1A1svaUC5ED4oPwk63bIYWBncyxiriM6XT_wttyoPTGlJnUvMpp0fbb9iUoqTifzShe4YOYFTOQxe4JqWcX-BirwkWSlzs0XdZDFJk1T/s320/100_1045.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course a few friends and I went searching for cold beers in Nauta with Gringa Linda and the Crazy Cuys, consequenially missed the boat to the island where we were building our rafts, and had to hitch a ride over from the Coast Guard.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhZD4rPjF93azJLqv43VPIU3ohQHddxBRpBJEsBwVl8V1CuGVLaupXA_ycTdo24sb48FjOV64IakJzOoUxMYxsju0CpvOLTfA3gbQAXItKWo0DHg-t83fpNlJ2f5iD8ajwcx9r8zfRN3s/s1600/100_1049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKhZD4rPjF93azJLqv43VPIU3ohQHddxBRpBJEsBwVl8V1CuGVLaupXA_ycTdo24sb48FjOV64IakJzOoUxMYxsju0CpvOLTfA3gbQAXItKWo0DHg-t83fpNlJ2f5iD8ajwcx9r8zfRN3s/s320/100_1049.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raft Building Island, where we stayed that night and launched from the next morning.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURdwCofSMMjHnpfTYBaYd6T6sXFusv_KWjXlQqNiXempyVWr4_HQjyFkgbxh7420hzuK8_v0HevVpi5Abjh4rMVuc0n6rFZDfNKlA8NyqndpAVWQze-NJn3ulq4kCeODY25Tth_kjPZgF/s1600/100_1052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjURdwCofSMMjHnpfTYBaYd6T6sXFusv_KWjXlQqNiXempyVWr4_HQjyFkgbxh7420hzuK8_v0HevVpi5Abjh4rMVuc0n6rFZDfNKlA8NyqndpAVWQze-NJn3ulq4kCeODY25Tth_kjPZgF/s320/100_1052.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raft building was ridiculous, as the promised lunch didn't arrive til nightfall and niether did the promised raft building supplies, meaning we spent the entire day just waiting and getting angry and starving. I actually busted out my bottle of Pisco and went around trying to trade shots for rop at one point.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr6mBeToyYSL3fZj2kDRnV724ak7nN5waGApL0buZz9vifWkw1CxBV72OkA-t9ZdL2FdUx_niaf2W4XbhkSRilGaIJbb3EKhSibtFNw_gdLb3A-Uc-lWrVtUPMvvp6chjT3ahZk1Fx8QD/s1600/100_1053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwr6mBeToyYSL3fZj2kDRnV724ak7nN5waGApL0buZz9vifWkw1CxBV72OkA-t9ZdL2FdUx_niaf2W4XbhkSRilGaIJbb3EKhSibtFNw_gdLb3A-Uc-lWrVtUPMvvp6chjT3ahZk1Fx8QD/s320/100_1053.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So many people. With no clue what they were doing (including apparently the organizers.) Such a ridiculous scene.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
So we did eventually get a raft built, thanks to our random assigned replacement guy, a random kid from Iquitos who had done it a few times before. His name was Roy. We hoped he would be a ringer but he didn't prove too awesome until the very end. But I will get to that.<br />
<br />
So we got a really basic raft built, dinner showed up really late in the night, while half the people were asleep and the rest were drunk around bonfires, and everyone launched together in the morning. That first day, we were convinced we were gonna get hauled in at the end, as we were not the world's strongest paddlers. But our raft stayed almost completely above water and we were mostly able-bodied (except for the part where I went straight from physical therapy for a torn shoulder tendon to the race, and then straight back for more therapy after, with my shoulder then exponentially worse...) so we paddled away hard, thinking we had to.<br />
<br />
Now, if you have never spent a lot of time trying to propel four people on eight balsa logs and some supplies down an extraordinary sluggish body of water, know that you are literally putting those paddles in the water and using as much of your body as you can to PULL yourselves along. It ain't easy. After about 20 minutes my arms were on fire. But we pushed through. We paddled pretty much steadily for 6 hours and one minute that day, until we pulled in at the first night's stop. So tired. And of course the only available food was being sold at completely exorbinant prices by the villagers. The promised food took some many hours to appear, as would be the pattern for the remainder of this worst-organized-event-ever.<br />
<br />
We came in 14th that day, out of 40 something teams. We were shocked. We had no intention of trying to do that well. So we of course learned the awesomely bad lesson that we sure as hell didn't neeed to try so hard the next day, and could spend more time chilling and watching the pink dolphins swim around.<br />
<br />
That night we tried to have celebratory beers but after I realized I had been carrying around the same open beer for 2 hours without taking one sip, I realized it was time to crash.<br />
<br />
In the morning we had another anemic breakfast and set off. They made us set off in stages, those that finished last the day before set off first, etc, in three groups. This put my team in the last group to set off. I tried arguing against it, as we had been the slowest group of the fastest set. We were only put into the fast set by a margin of FIFTY NINE SECONDS. I explained that we weren't planning on paddling so much this day and didn't want to be just left in the dust and never see anyone all day. Didn't work.<br />
<br />
So we were left in the dust and didn't really see sign of anyone fore a few hours, til we started to catch up with the very slowest groups. It was a LONG DAY. Nine hours, it ended up being. We slacked for the first four, only paddling every now and then, but then decided to own the rest of it. So we paddled pretty hard the next five hours. It was a good thing too.<br />
<br />
We started passing people like crazy, right in the most frustrating part of the whole day, when you get stuck in this not-even-moving-slightly patch of water the size of a large lake. Took us a good two hours to push through that, where you couldn't even stop paddling for a second.<br />
<br />
After the lake the shit started to hit the fan. A huge storm rolled in and the sun started to set. Lightning was flashing around and the rain started. Waves picked up. Rolling in to shore was very dramatic. By then it was completely dark and we were coming in only by the couple of lights on the shore and the yells of a mob of little jungle children that were waiting there to pull our raft up and secure it. We knew there were still a LOT of teams behind us, some way behind and wondered how they could possibly be faring out there in the pitch black.<br />
<br />
We saw the rescue boat head out right before we landed. We gathered our stuff and trudged up to the school we'd be staying the night in, so indescribeably exhausted, but also a bit anxious for the others. We came in 24th I think that day, still pretty good considering how much we relaxed and swam!<br />
<br />
It ended up being hours we sat around wondering when the rescue boat would come in with all our friends. The town we were in was by far the best yet, providing us with AMAZING food, lots of cold beer, and even live bands. When the rescue boat did come in with about 7 teams, all of which had had to abandon their rafts, there were still two teams missing for a couple more hours. They were eventually found.<br />
<br />
The rescued kids obviously coudn't participate any more, as they had no rafts, and would be riding in the support boat for the final day. They were in a variety of moods that night. Some had come in very excited and blown away by what had happened out there, but more came in quite shaken, said it was pretty scary in the dark on the amazon with the waves and not being able to see anything anywhere for hours. Sea monsters, ya know. Some got taken in by small villagers and cared for until the boats arrived. That was nice.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjb4pvn_dywXOcFixFnoWToNQEATwS3s_-aGk9kRjaj1Wdc4mpr7fsw0nZYZSqI5rAf1_p_7nIsvlAA8uyvWX3RRQvirrc0tPtqDl3uWV2acd9tSphybLs-aQaNkMJK0ZMPmGeuN0P6_D/s1600/100_1056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijjb4pvn_dywXOcFixFnoWToNQEATwS3s_-aGk9kRjaj1Wdc4mpr7fsw0nZYZSqI5rAf1_p_7nIsvlAA8uyvWX3RRQvirrc0tPtqDl3uWV2acd9tSphybLs-aQaNkMJK0ZMPmGeuN0P6_D/s320/100_1056.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the school the last night. Glad I brought my mosquito net. Not many did. They didn't get much sleep inthe nights.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2LGBdaShmqO_IeaFt5vkX0yRqGYCnwmdG4nzvlqLVeIOWVaxQWOgEKkrsrJD4VVU5WopdEcCTbu8pq10f8l5gRjI5b4dXx_moKR-h0StxX-G1gBVmBVPSS97Dz8X1-EDblGbACjaypvo/s1600/100_1058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2LGBdaShmqO_IeaFt5vkX0yRqGYCnwmdG4nzvlqLVeIOWVaxQWOgEKkrsrJD4VVU5WopdEcCTbu8pq10f8l5gRjI5b4dXx_moKR-h0StxX-G1gBVmBVPSS97Dz8X1-EDblGbACjaypvo/s320/100_1058.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to launch the last morning, when our numbers had dwindled.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3Ml19M5W27cyjbT2cqH_0cMHdFWHgswocHWVYRlyFqDdNQ6FsmrO05LxRdEaPnpstHmBZjKRpeOq8f3W1F85628mOo8xSE4t85hlwi4MeoqOdrX7eBpiA3YtQ0CgaBbO7K02iVfJr3GP/s1600/100_1059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd3Ml19M5W27cyjbT2cqH_0cMHdFWHgswocHWVYRlyFqDdNQ6FsmrO05LxRdEaPnpstHmBZjKRpeOq8f3W1F85628mOo8xSE4t85hlwi4MeoqOdrX7eBpiA3YtQ0CgaBbO7K02iVfJr3GP/s320/100_1059.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our raft.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The last day we knew was supposed to be decently short, but they also told us that the last 500 meters would be against the current. We knew all the slowest teams were out, and we didn't want to come in last, so we decided to paddle hard all day. So, so sore.<br />
<br />
We went at it, playing games keeping track of how many teams were in front of us until all of a sudden we found ourselves the very first gringo team! It was useless to count the all Peruvian teams as they were local raft people and were competing for the prize money and paddled like machines. We would stop to watch them when they came by, as they obviously had to start off in the last heat. They would fly by, literally finishing in HALF the time of the rest of the teams. We don't even know how they did it.<br />
<br />
So we decided we wanted to hold on to the gringo lead. Roy, our guy-we-hoped-was-a-ringer-but-then-proved-to-be-a-chatty-slacker, said we should cross to the other side of the river, as the finish was on that side and the river only got wider from this point forth. We went for it, though all the other teams in sight stayed on that side. It took us a good two and a half hours to cross the river (the Amazon is seriously a huge river) and while we crossed we could see other teams pass us by SO FAR, staying in the current we had been in. We started to get mad at Roy.<br />
<br />
But then at the end he proved to be right. The teams who had stayed on the other side really had a struggle getting over. And when you got over, it was time to fight the counter current, taking the turn off to the finish line. This was the battle fo a lifetime. It took an hour to go that last five hundred meters, paddling like your life depended on it the entire time. It was so hard it got funny. We all just started shouting and yelling and cracking up, thinking it was impossible to go on. It was like you weren't moving forward at all, but if you stopped working as hard as humanly possible, you started <i>flying</i> backwards.<br />
<br />
We hit land and it was the best thing ever. I fell of the raft into the water, completely drained but also completely elated. We did end up coming in the first gringo team that day, though some other of course did it in quicker time, with the staggered starts and all. They had Cuzqueña girls there waiting for us with free cold beers, photographers and reporters, and we just jumped around celebrating and cheering and having no idea what to do with ourselves for the next two hours, watching everyone come in. Some people came in and burst into tears right hen they hit land. That was my favorite. It really was that tough of a three days.<br />
<br />
So that's that. We of course celebrated thoroughly that night. I think we came in in the top 15 overall, 3rd of all gringo teams. And then we left! But I may go back to the jungle to live forever. I will definitely be taking another vacation out that way, and soon. Best place on earth.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv6OL0vQ21B4ykQLxE_W-HEzO6ZpUFlOnSs4BeYHAhh2HIKtS9SG3_7OI9HD6YsAKPpeOM2yZE4rJ-47nhlhabtmObKiTIdFjoIx5UpSEiV1KWBYXhC-svJZ8GHMY7a-FRF4Nhlmzvr3o/s1600/100_1061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPv6OL0vQ21B4ykQLxE_W-HEzO6ZpUFlOnSs4BeYHAhh2HIKtS9SG3_7OI9HD6YsAKPpeOM2yZE4rJ-47nhlhabtmObKiTIdFjoIx5UpSEiV1KWBYXhC-svJZ8GHMY7a-FRF4Nhlmzvr3o/s320/100_1061.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heading home to Lima.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-82295398362353024232011-10-27T12:33:00.000-07:002011-10-27T12:44:02.679-07:00The Godforsaken RollercoasterI will go for weeks - <i>weeks!</i> - of loving my life here. I am sure I will stay a third year and in fact may just stay in Peru for ever. Doesn't the old world sound so boring and tame? Doesn't the freeness and insanity of this place make me feel amazing? Isn't the jungle calling my name to go stay in forever? And then one day, today, I will just wake up with it all gone again. (I am blaming Jaime Oliver for this because nothing else was different about last night.) I wake up and I just don't want to face it. I don't want to hear the same stupid stories on the stoop. I don't want to watch everything around me fail with a dull plop of apathy. I don't want to see everyone not care and just keep <i>waiting</i> for things in their community to change, for someone else to do it. I don't want to be the circus freak yelled at on the street at least once a block - still. I am just done.<br />
<br />
It was the last day today of yet another section of Future Planning courses with the kiddies at the high school. I skipped up this time to make sure I get all the seniors done before the end of the school year in two months. So I had sixty "high school seniors" in a room for a couple hours today, working on college savings plans. I am always a bit demoralized on the last day of this course, as it is The Day with the Math. It hit so much harder this time though because I went a few grades up. I thought for sure it would be different.<br />
<br />
All they have to do is put the total amount of money they need and the number of years they will save. They then turn this number of years into a number of months and divide the total to get the amount they need to save each month. Not too tough right? I am pretty sure any one of us could pull this off by the age of nine at the latest. In our heads by the time we're 11. We are working with simple round numbers.<br />
<br />
They couldn't do it. I mean a few could. The ones with parents wealthy enough to take them in for special schooling in the city during vacations. Two of them. The rest were calling me over for (exact quotes,)<br />
<br />
"How may months in two years?"<br />
"Well, there's 12 months in a year..."<br />
"Yeah, but how many in two?<br />
"Well you just multiply 12 by 2."<br />
"I can't do that."<br />
"It's 24."<br />
<br />
or, with one who is much better at this...<br />
<br />
"How many months in 10 years?"<br />
"Multiply 12 by 10."<br />
"Ok, 12... 24... What's next?"<br />
<br />
and many other such forehead slappers. It's these times that I just don't know what to do anymore. It took over an hour to get all of these students through writing down and doing the math on one goal. They had to wait for either me or the one calculator to get to them.<br />
<br />
After, I called my friend Ellen, lamenting the fact that I am in this slump today. She was feeling it today too and we talked about the whys and the hows. These kids <i>have</i> been in school for four hours a day for the last ten years. They do have math class. The thing is, the professors just write the problems on the board, with the answers, and the kids copy them down. The same as every other class. It is unlikely the teachers even know how to do the math. When the kids read, they have some solid basic literacy, but absolutely ZERO reading comprehension. They can read Green Eggs and Ham aloud to you (I am talking 15 year olds here) but afterwards, they have no <i>clue</i> what it was about. None. Just words on a page. They know how to read them, how to say them and, maybe, if you ask about one, they can tell you what it means. But string them all together - waaaaay too much. And then you just wonder what the hell you can ever do. You just want to run to Lima and run screaming into the Ministry of Education asking them what the <i>hell</i> they think they're doing with their teacher trainings? But you can't.<br />
<br />
Things I have had for <b>breakfast</b>, just this week: sheep tongue, intestine stuffed with stomach lining, river clams.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow will be better. Next week I will be back to my good ol' staying-here-forever self.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-57005446780574403102011-10-19T10:36:00.000-07:002011-10-19T10:36:38.357-07:00I know, I know. Almost two months. Here then...<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Oh, god. Too many things. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I left this in Ancash, in Huaraz, in a bar called Trece Bujos. Giant Jenga, Shot-Skis, and amazing friends. Hung out with volunteers I hadn't seen since training and made an awesome new friend that night too. I heart Huaraz.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ben and I then had a chill day and then hit the Cordillera Negra on horseback to get some good shots of the Cordillera Blanca.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8Jp2U76AjDRkwicWmghpngaJyNMv43tMW25zkYpJa7XB4DFrvGy-bCv6daRGCLZsNBlz4UKTMr2UQgKPDXFbOgo33SKY4eNR6spvMHtxETBUjzsduWXzXmhoCV8uN93pCXPrLE6gWlt7/s1600/100_0776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-8Jp2U76AjDRkwicWmghpngaJyNMv43tMW25zkYpJa7XB4DFrvGy-bCv6daRGCLZsNBlz4UKTMr2UQgKPDXFbOgo33SKY4eNR6spvMHtxETBUjzsduWXzXmhoCV8uN93pCXPrLE6gWlt7/s320/100_0776.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Large mountains camoflauged by clouds...</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxoAGiVYxsfFFBLx10o2gaCWcBQLYdZZ-OATb3967wwMkiHgAUHZhE0Yzk1BCYHHGvqKU0kcU64XI6azztLSl2iy65okF5tj_10dQ-PkFE83MsdlFAv-UPINcQFPCg2AIpBgLXs2VRSfwn/s1600/100_0781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxoAGiVYxsfFFBLx10o2gaCWcBQLYdZZ-OATb3967wwMkiHgAUHZhE0Yzk1BCYHHGvqKU0kcU64XI6azztLSl2iy65okF5tj_10dQ-PkFE83MsdlFAv-UPINcQFPCg2AIpBgLXs2VRSfwn/s320/100_0781.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's my horse, Canelo.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We then decided to leave Huaraz and spend the last couple days back in Lima. A good friend of mine had just finished service and was on her way out, so we got to spend a couple of days hanging out with her and some other Lima buddies.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When vacation ended and Ben took off, I hurried back to site to try and do as much work as I could, knowing I had less than two weeks before I had to head back to Lima. Turned into one of my hardest times yet, work-wise. I had to run around finishing up shopping for my Kids to Kids mural/astronomy project, have obnoxious meetings with the Mayor about the library, and teach a Vocational Orientation class to all four sections of Second Grade at the high school. I got thoroughly screwed by the school, teachers and the director abandoning me in classes and even the other teachers going into my classroom after hours and stealing a couple hundred soles worth of school supplies I had bought. I was super ready to leave when I took off to Lima again, even though it was so soon. One year slump hit hard.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsQeu7_hXA4QgGXJFPJNIHA3pNOfdQU263_VbqqHCDT62xYiJWguSAu1EwYvFrFk_0dtQb0lv2eUDTcCZ1GoI6grpukhqLwYG1fy1MkqlTxrcvWgG3Uq00ElCxYDWpo1Bnr97jAhNb1v2/s1600/100_0784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvsQeu7_hXA4QgGXJFPJNIHA3pNOfdQU263_VbqqHCDT62xYiJWguSAu1EwYvFrFk_0dtQb0lv2eUDTcCZ1GoI6grpukhqLwYG1fy1MkqlTxrcvWgG3Uq00ElCxYDWpo1Bnr97jAhNb1v2/s320/100_0784.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">School girls hiking up the hill with water buckets between classes. Have to do this when they go to the bathroom.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlEibsT24T1peHZ9vaC5ELLh-FBOJsPoXkzBKXKSOFJ-RfkE0Gkox112j4_uG74azWZXOnvgndCAUkRyytACdiwGCNfle4iwQmDpKf3qNzhfreYKubQg7X-40tgQh7nhhatxXDxojiwXb/s1600/100_0785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmlEibsT24T1peHZ9vaC5ELLh-FBOJsPoXkzBKXKSOFJ-RfkE0Gkox112j4_uG74azWZXOnvgndCAUkRyytACdiwGCNfle4iwQmDpKf3qNzhfreYKubQg7X-40tgQh7nhhatxXDxojiwXb/s320/100_0785.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marching classes. So. Many. Afternoons. They cancel so many of my activities in order to work on their marching. More important than reading, yes.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVxHvUlwmcbhbw7n8c3p3Lqx9mxp8SRDIykK5DYFvw0AVOhwtQuLpLKyCFvEnbk4_83j1_Wa4HnE9Oaex_PrGJjrmPPiGBytERFB5WMDaZhzqADUt1XmT8tRgdBDOTABmEgUhemUjhC2q/s1600/100_0786.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGVxHvUlwmcbhbw7n8c3p3Lqx9mxp8SRDIykK5DYFvw0AVOhwtQuLpLKyCFvEnbk4_83j1_Wa4HnE9Oaex_PrGJjrmPPiGBytERFB5WMDaZhzqADUt1XmT8tRgdBDOTABmEgUhemUjhC2q/s320/100_0786.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Science Club geeks working away.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WsoX8i8rRfOWJ9dvSPVZsoV5VGUO0u0WLzzhWmKwizqilBuc28j3uYL6qtTgTO2VXx1ZHXfdzCJyrXWgSeYShUnCmHwWLLftMGd6vywmIoOsaun4H2N-T7VMnKCqKkZZxcV-DfjQeEHN/s1600/100_0798.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WsoX8i8rRfOWJ9dvSPVZsoV5VGUO0u0WLzzhWmKwizqilBuc28j3uYL6qtTgTO2VXx1ZHXfdzCJyrXWgSeYShUnCmHwWLLftMGd6vywmIoOsaun4H2N-T7VMnKCqKkZZxcV-DfjQeEHN/s320/100_0798.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Festival time was starting in my town when I left. Luckily, I managed to miss th</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">e whole thing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir45Wo1FAHUbMefs-pv-QDwVaPQctpFEiNaNwswLLSvHEz4UYazeaRXUpisOI-pBD_-NHI_mdK477cXy4kDM9vrhMaVj4OqUj_x4tBBzk89OPlfoMS7pySFos3l87BwVECfkQChxisM1yJ/s1600/100_0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir45Wo1FAHUbMefs-pv-QDwVaPQctpFEiNaNwswLLSvHEz4UYazeaRXUpisOI-pBD_-NHI_mdK477cXy4kDM9vrhMaVj4OqUj_x4tBBzk89OPlfoMS7pySFos3l87BwVECfkQChxisM1yJ/s320/100_0800.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teaching too many at once.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajSfngOdY_T9agVeRwRaSYagOPm-tMHQsIFy5KnPBMxnhF52WnyEnKYkA2So6_A4AXPIhA1fZcxZQejI67YP-D7dVHU3uWW7CzMHT4hStFWtxDAaVMGRxN09yogQpBh3QuXsfL6dJZbaG/s1600/100_0803.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjajSfngOdY_T9agVeRwRaSYagOPm-tMHQsIFy5KnPBMxnhF52WnyEnKYkA2So6_A4AXPIhA1fZcxZQejI67YP-D7dVHU3uWW7CzMHT4hStFWtxDAaVMGRxN09yogQpBh3QuXsfL6dJZbaG/s320/100_0803.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom rustlin' up the grub.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiAcFPURjb-olsPcYNQZSec-s-8nhz2TvIKkgt7Lw0osfjUiNCM24IeiV5bbDYA3l0XfV9m_cDBc-Q3A08ukjHpaDe8maGtCo3Q8MOdy9kmLhJMOESIXRVHjKx67r1CDBMMbWfjGVrQsP/s1600/100_0806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYiAcFPURjb-olsPcYNQZSec-s-8nhz2TvIKkgt7Lw0osfjUiNCM24IeiV5bbDYA3l0XfV9m_cDBc-Q3A08ukjHpaDe8maGtCo3Q8MOdy9kmLhJMOESIXRVHjKx67r1CDBMMbWfjGVrQsP/s320/100_0806.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jose took me out for bday beers before I left site. There was no electricity that weekend, but as long as there are candles, the bar stays open.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNqDW7VqryQWderR2KnTDpqowSehdB_qzOBg4oG5WpWiAm2ttgxSiQy7lQhPnU5lgVYbmqElWtU4J25lPXIRFGjOS18JgQtokX8pPon9SgqTatg4028tYwYT1GkfNC1BzM4A18EnSbFAE/s1600/100_0838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCNqDW7VqryQWderR2KnTDpqowSehdB_qzOBg4oG5WpWiAm2ttgxSiQy7lQhPnU5lgVYbmqElWtU4J25lPXIRFGjOS18JgQtokX8pPon9SgqTatg4028tYwYT1GkfNC1BzM4A18EnSbFAE/s320/100_0838.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday cuys.</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mid-Service Meetings and Med Checks. Already. So I was able to arrive in Lima on my birthday, which was beyond excellent. A bunch of friends and I spent the day at Mistura – the largest annual food festival in South America. It was AMAZING. A rare beautiful sunny day in Lima, hanging out with my favorite people, sitting on the grass in the sun all day listening to music and passing around amazing foodstuffs. In the night, we went out to shoot pool at this grubby little dive that I love and apparently everyone else hates. There was a dinosaur exhibit in the park and I got to hop the little fences and get pics with the dinos til I got chased out by the guard. Couldn't ask for a better birthday.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The next week was just boring meetings and doctors appointments that turned into a strange clusterfuck. For someone who had gone to med checks believing myself perfectly healthy, they sure did manage to find things wrong with me. First the dentist decided that a cap on my tooth that was supposed to be replaced many years before, but had been neglected due to lack of insurance need to be replaced NOW. Tried to get him to wait for rainy season, but he insisted, so Cuerpo de Paz went along and made me stay a couple weeks just for that. On top of that, my sore shoulder that Doc Jorge had told me was just “drunk arm” and I slept on it wrong and it would be better in a week, was still sore a month later, causing another non-emergency emergency. Seeing as how I couldn't move my arm the first week after I hurt it and it was almost all better at this point, I assumed it was in the clear. They however were shocked to hear it still hurt at all and sent me in for an MRI. Turns out I had a little tear in something-or-other and they started sending me in to daily physical therapy. So, I was stuck in Lima.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Luckily, I managed to sneak out a week later or so to run home and take my girls to ALMA. ALMA is each department's annual girls leadership camp. I had to run home (17 hours) pick up my four girls, gather donations to pay for their transportation, repack all of my belongings to prepare for camp, another stay in Lima, and a jungle trip, take the girls to Chota (3 hours), and from there to Cajamarca (5 hours), to the Baños del Inca, to the retreat center where we have the camp. Camp was a couple of amazing days, explained below in only pictures, and then I had to put the girls on a bus home and hop another straight back to Lima (16 hours more.) Over 40 hours of buses in just a few days and only 22 hours in site.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimx9vwBvEllCgMws2TAI5EK696Icn3WigKwXuWq7SL6eio36FwRQVdFUI3q1XVpdY3ZpmgWE5pqy7KRbK6yvRTE-oUBnz-6iWWRLiZS71vpmgSQ_xX8pnzFW2-iuEk4qgk95oCHvTzHnmG/s1600/100_0843.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimx9vwBvEllCgMws2TAI5EK696Icn3WigKwXuWq7SL6eio36FwRQVdFUI3q1XVpdY3ZpmgWE5pqy7KRbK6yvRTE-oUBnz-6iWWRLiZS71vpmgSQ_xX8pnzFW2-iuEk4qgk95oCHvTzHnmG/s320/100_0843.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My girls in the Chota plaza. Yes, they are all four wearing track suits. They regularly tell me I really need to get some. It's the height of current style.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHU7ZHiCjkCFXNtKtBNpp4K-IKidWEFIBqAKWrMQgSAvcetBoZyAiLV-AMgjAhfJlWoA3RX0n3YOULWFhyFRMUOvGMS5yQNv8wWFD-9UbGTBxsQpE9Pm2N73NmG7P8KcL30aHkq6v0wAjw/s1600/100_0851.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHU7ZHiCjkCFXNtKtBNpp4K-IKidWEFIBqAKWrMQgSAvcetBoZyAiLV-AMgjAhfJlWoA3RX0n3YOULWFhyFRMUOvGMS5yQNv8wWFD-9UbGTBxsQpE9Pm2N73NmG7P8KcL30aHkq6v0wAjw/s320/100_0851.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Team building games.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xDW3NeWsUaIVTDHygaJgALzjKCmGDxVXaBU0ED9zYK32OOKAp0ZrIG9Qv0jSjMrQoqqgVVcHWWO9IlgiSIqssWxIZy15qhhvfgg-0Z_tKU21w5qCfPTP907pFVuDaaQyM-arfuTWtPFs/s1600/100_0877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xDW3NeWsUaIVTDHygaJgALzjKCmGDxVXaBU0ED9zYK32OOKAp0ZrIG9Qv0jSjMrQoqqgVVcHWWO9IlgiSIqssWxIZy15qhhvfgg-0Z_tKU21w5qCfPTP907pFVuDaaQyM-arfuTWtPFs/s320/100_0877.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Creating the egg babies they have to carry all weekend long.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcS9bKUQEgh9MXqC5s3dWICCE46Z7yH-jmwj9T5r9AZUz28Cg84joqHFOo4_rEWu1pZEUYBqKBzOTy1SVgZjyENaih9SKZF4RUNuirlszY1ltowWLApmIrBDmjGQUOLmr4XGrQ3UUpK507/s1600/100_0893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcS9bKUQEgh9MXqC5s3dWICCE46Z7yH-jmwj9T5r9AZUz28Cg84joqHFOo4_rEWu1pZEUYBqKBzOTy1SVgZjyENaih9SKZF4RUNuirlszY1ltowWLApmIrBDmjGQUOLmr4XGrQ3UUpK507/s320/100_0893.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole group.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xE8t88t9MXTSNJ_SAg8tWtCXy7WmE_sz607LLsnee-aVluCXEMG76NbNszQlz_bO1NyhBF-O-3XSQX-eXyhT1FJ4DEn5JoHvCZfslWAYutyc4Eae-GM1kKZKpI2MUXogsrTVM-LOifb2/s1600/100_0896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xE8t88t9MXTSNJ_SAg8tWtCXy7WmE_sz607LLsnee-aVluCXEMG76NbNszQlz_bO1NyhBF-O-3XSQX-eXyhT1FJ4DEn5JoHvCZfslWAYutyc4Eae-GM1kKZKpI2MUXogsrTVM-LOifb2/s320/100_0896.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I kidnapped egg babies I found unattended and held them for ransom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7cPyGt5ar2Gy7Zn6m0DWnHYsckA0NAHoiVLKTj7Qlx5SC8rahihJCA6nfMCjILetPRDsuwuZR8IECiuSoy5-RSVIpeM4LX0kawBgGKNMjiLTY2s-CI0vxiKXEm2oxsvD-UkKxUvuxynQ/s1600/100_0899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS7cPyGt5ar2Gy7Zn6m0DWnHYsckA0NAHoiVLKTj7Qlx5SC8rahihJCA6nfMCjILetPRDsuwuZR8IECiuSoy5-RSVIpeM4LX0kawBgGKNMjiLTY2s-CI0vxiKXEm2oxsvD-UkKxUvuxynQ/s320/100_0899.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dead baby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbyBki4BudezgGYyOybf78zUImhW8AL1pyk6-6CPOIy2rHtVfzWtNZn9is3zBc5mlqPWkYRJpmrzgJAT_d94Bua4ObuK6CQV9DKSVCy0si3WyT4f3YpbzLjzUr49LCRwop8ZSOutmjLg3/s1600/100_0905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbyBki4BudezgGYyOybf78zUImhW8AL1pyk6-6CPOIy2rHtVfzWtNZn9is3zBc5mlqPWkYRJpmrzgJAT_d94Bua4ObuK6CQV9DKSVCy0si3WyT4f3YpbzLjzUr49LCRwop8ZSOutmjLg3/s320/100_0905.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sex vs. Gender charla.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CNszJgUnyH63qI8rNQ67A86oFgjTJ83xUawtFy7uNTlVLqNr86cFc5yf1LRkWdcQJ-7Xq3-HOZa1pIkYEf1P-0oxseuAZ_RpeoZ1vPt5szoXLe7U0njeItE94mi5Sge25FOsL5mzwPAa/s1600/100_0921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1CNszJgUnyH63qI8rNQ67A86oFgjTJ83xUawtFy7uNTlVLqNr86cFc5yf1LRkWdcQJ-7Xq3-HOZa1pIkYEf1P-0oxseuAZ_RpeoZ1vPt5szoXLe7U0njeItE94mi5Sge25FOsL5mzwPAa/s320/100_0921.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Large group condom demo. With wooden dildo. Wood. Ha.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfaoz2GB3lc7cTEwf7MRlk6F8_RUXcFB10ulTPTblrxCH6c8_9qNi3x00jDy3eCtnPElZAIDhb8I4D2cb69Qjh8hZ4m5ScZVt6dy2ivWbbLl9WunaNCmyKTzgHKwRLs-Y96zWQF5vgnT3/s1600/100_0943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimfaoz2GB3lc7cTEwf7MRlk6F8_RUXcFB10ulTPTblrxCH6c8_9qNi3x00jDy3eCtnPElZAIDhb8I4D2cb69Qjh8hZ4m5ScZVt6dy2ivWbbLl9WunaNCmyKTzgHKwRLs-Y96zWQF5vgnT3/s320/100_0943.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My small group condom practice.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-tz92hJIwU0JOtssXrNYiKpBHeONdNztgO62UVAoEJoYWZ_VzpG45Qv1BIlBkDZVXsHosLhmPKR14kx05ldhUZair4gzS7YmjJX-yBOyuZNXdGbKkFP74QRfXmvqXvERWFoHpSi08N-c/s1600/100_0945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV-tz92hJIwU0JOtssXrNYiKpBHeONdNztgO62UVAoEJoYWZ_VzpG45Qv1BIlBkDZVXsHosLhmPKR14kx05ldhUZair4gzS7YmjJX-yBOyuZNXdGbKkFP74QRfXmvqXvERWFoHpSi08N-c/s320/100_0945.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yeah, I ate the banana. And the girls played with their condoms for a good half an hour.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIqFsMTy71ydfk81tuR4ytP238ucJTGCLNS5prvPU9NKFBDbZXoc6tB3S0zWX0_-INbwyacdsm3yC2Ka7rspR7SzAIslatROH1-FrHQ9LjlFTdwEFGhuqyTv0UDmOyO2BunKp-ew2Z-9u/s1600/100_0947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIqFsMTy71ydfk81tuR4ytP238ucJTGCLNS5prvPU9NKFBDbZXoc6tB3S0zWX0_-INbwyacdsm3yC2Ka7rspR7SzAIslatROH1-FrHQ9LjlFTdwEFGhuqyTv0UDmOyO2BunKp-ew2Z-9u/s320/100_0947.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Panel where girls got the opportunity to ask questions of women leaders in various professions and then to talk with three teenage moms.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5z9lHljaxPVKI0-p6vYg20vQ-zBFS5v_rHB2KHmx_o3xL7-C9QsVOumQEpgXOOvdaY01akPE9u_fqAFm3gjuKmL7dHj1mBGd48MAqyYQTqtY7xrzAr_y93I8UMxr9mLblqVbsqP2AZmN/s1600/IMG_1055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5z9lHljaxPVKI0-p6vYg20vQ-zBFS5v_rHB2KHmx_o3xL7-C9QsVOumQEpgXOOvdaY01akPE9u_fqAFm3gjuKmL7dHj1mBGd48MAqyYQTqtY7xrzAr_y93I8UMxr9mLblqVbsqP2AZmN/s320/IMG_1055.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quiz games.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_jS6mLlcqFLnMueWxUB01VnAP_xsIrFtFy9JaP-FQCxO-L82kK_ux4phMv6MpLNP78K9GmKwDDWgX79CWkvUnoW-Tkl7M9hdlb4kSPhJowourdD5P4zx5aQN8ReuTo8GNCedFFvkqyzA/s1600/IMG_1106.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_jS6mLlcqFLnMueWxUB01VnAP_xsIrFtFy9JaP-FQCxO-L82kK_ux4phMv6MpLNP78K9GmKwDDWgX79CWkvUnoW-Tkl7M9hdlb4kSPhJowourdD5P4zx5aQN8ReuTo8GNCedFFvkqyzA/s320/IMG_1106.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">University tour.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqA-m5ccyomEsJZzjOE_Nipk0cXjdpTzws6xt1XZV4SuBYwHhXxSGfxTL5O235z-zikbLqyM5nC9EHli6zDOF6xUxlW45Y5T1Qg0-F_U26qdmDtaLtY5OEvQLUQVZ0Q29EoPbqjaWiac6/s1600/IMG_1152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqA-m5ccyomEsJZzjOE_Nipk0cXjdpTzws6xt1XZV4SuBYwHhXxSGfxTL5O235z-zikbLqyM5nC9EHli6zDOF6xUxlW45Y5T1Qg0-F_U26qdmDtaLtY5OEvQLUQVZ0Q29EoPbqjaWiac6/s320/IMG_1152.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everyone who wasn't a Jehovah's Witness got to go swimming!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoPFpbHjmQrPJ5OW8Htx8DUiMXQVFb19DWPBzM3V-PzekUYWwHi4pfGdMp2ehka2GYKhx03V-XrdYabmZSpxmyGUjB9mxLmRrAWlFlHNU4pwggdk-pABR4JURWPr7xCGxUuJGuPUkiaI1/s1600/IMG_4135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfoPFpbHjmQrPJ5OW8Htx8DUiMXQVFb19DWPBzM3V-PzekUYWwHi4pfGdMp2ehka2GYKhx03V-XrdYabmZSpxmyGUjB9mxLmRrAWlFlHNU4pwggdk-pABR4JURWPr7xCGxUuJGuPUkiaI1/s320/IMG_4135.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skits of girls pretending to be drunk boys and practicing shooting down advances.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4QqO9B5z7lC_xl1v2Kq9jWNKqZU62U_gAfCq0-sbHjmgDCrwRHbwvqA5sHbDk3oDhR-O1kYG8qRykMfTJwU5e_9amMGNZY9gQKo_oJ1NPoH0DFFNWXszcHe5rxsjKvLixG3NY1MYsO8I/s1600/P9240490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4QqO9B5z7lC_xl1v2Kq9jWNKqZU62U_gAfCq0-sbHjmgDCrwRHbwvqA5sHbDk3oDhR-O1kYG8qRykMfTJwU5e_9amMGNZY9gQKo_oJ1NPoH0DFFNWXszcHe5rxsjKvLixG3NY1MYsO8I/s320/P9240490.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Introducing s'mores.</td></tr>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Back in Lima. More dental, more physical therapy. And then, vacation! Right in the middle of my medical crap. Awesome. The Cobbs hit town, picked up two friends from the airport (Mike and Felix, woot) and we all headed down to Huancachina for a day of dune buggy and sandboarding insanity. And insanity it truly is. I was honestly not to hyped on the idea. It really doesn't sound all that cool. It was really, truly wild. Apparently you cannot flip a dune buggy. No matter how fast you go, no matter how steep a drop off you fly down or how much air you catch or how much insane spinning and tilting you do. We did not die. To my deep surprise. Sandboarding: almost as nuts. Throwing yourself off three hundred foot almost-cliffs, head first lying down on a snowboard. The last dune was so steep and so huge that you couldn't see over the edge – it just looked like a drop off. When you see the others get down to the bottom, they are just little specks. But they are still alive. So you jump. You can use your feet to break, sticking them down in the sand to slow yourself down a little. On that last one, I got going too fast to break. Tried to put my feet down and it was like power sanding the tops of my feet. So I just kept going faster and faster until I flew past everyone at the bottom and halfway up the next dune. It was a very good time.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Adrenaline exhausted, most my clothes soaked from being shoved in the pool, and slightly in love with that little oasis town – possibly the most tranquilo place I have yet encountered in this country – we had to head back to Lima the next day to fly out to the jungle.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We spent a week in the jungle, including a three day raft race. We built our own rafts and paddled our asses off for a brutal 180 kilometers from Nauta to Iquitos. I will describe this in my next blog. It deserves it's own space. One of the most amazing times of my life.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At the end of the race, we flew back to Lima. I had yet another dentist appointment and had to stick around a couple of days to deal with the fact that I had managed to incur first degree sunburns down the fronts of my ultra-white legs. Blisters and open wounds and skin sloughing off. It was pleasant. It also healed remarkably fast. Three days later I was back north, in Chota for a regional meeting, gauze off the legs, no more ibuprofen for the shoulder, and teeth all shiny white and brand new.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now I am back in site, completely overwhelmed with the ungodly amount of work I have to do with more than a month away. I have been spending these first couple of days just putting myself back in order. Washing WAY too many clothes by hand, cleaning my room, dealing with backed up email and reports and other bureaucratic shit, and trying to lay out a winter-long plan. I have no plans the next few months to leave this place again, besides my standard sanity-jaunts into Chota to have a beer and American food with my family of vols there. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have a trip planned for Thanksgiving and one for New Years. Until then, I am planning on finishing Future Planning classes with the rest of the Colegio students, launching the 7 (yes, SEVEN) new banks I have lined up to start, opening the silly business-that-can't-win with my entrepreneur girls, and completing my maps/model-solar-system/telescope project with my Science Club. And, of course, the epic library battle will continue...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I will write up the jungle race soon, I swear. With lots of pictures. Love you.</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-45499703535188709292011-08-27T10:05:00.000-07:002011-08-27T10:07:56.726-07:00Vacations are Fancy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The last three weeks or so have been the biggest whirlwind of my service so far. I feel like I say things like that a lot. Then again, I feel that my experience is in such constant flux that maybe it just always feels like that. Except for the dead times, which are sneaking up again.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My business group girls finished their business plan. After a six-week course on Youth Entrepreneurship, in which they were able to realize some micro-businesses for a week, with “very official” loans from the Bank of Courtney, I selected all the winners to participate in a further course. We spent the last few months delving much further in to how to run a business. It culminated in days and days of actually writing a full business plan. They had slowly been preparing this same business idea throughout the duration of the entire course, but when it came time to actually sit and write it, it was quite the trial.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">These kids graduate high school having never actually read a book or written anything longer than a paragraph. When they do write a page or two, it is copied by rote. These girls knew their business, knew the principles, and had a solid idea of what they needed to put down. But I had them write a full 18 pages, typed up, to send in to Lima for the National Youth Business Plan Competition. It ended up being meeting every day, for hours, to get it together. I refused to do even a sentence of it for them, instead making suggestions on every paragraph or so. They did it.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7lTCJx7OW5XTfPBW8ul6qtV8Gh94Nj4ruGe8eVz_tb0j92178svRqKuqNVE4LLwmfPXE2a0lEndXtehcV6jibRdwGnUYFSMKeLZyoel1DHEGUBK5Ad0-43vzeBnFollrBKLkRouLUDPN/s1600/100_0417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_7lTCJx7OW5XTfPBW8ul6qtV8Gh94Nj4ruGe8eVz_tb0j92178svRqKuqNVE4LLwmfPXE2a0lEndXtehcV6jibRdwGnUYFSMKeLZyoel1DHEGUBK5Ad0-43vzeBnFollrBKLkRouLUDPN/s320/100_0417.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So one of the girls and I went to Lima, with a profesora from their Colegio accompanying to escort her back after. She had to give a presentation of her business plan to a panel of professional judges from the Embassy, the American Chamber of Commerce, and heads of Peruvian businesses, and in front an audience of other volunteers and students from around the country. I made her do this all herself too, even the powerpoint. She did well.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In a moment of unbelievable excitement, my girls won second place. I had sadly been a doubter. My girls were the youngest there, just barely 15, while others were college students in their early 20s. My girls' idea was one of the more out there ones – opening an art center with classes and an artesanía shop, while most the rest were juice stands and cuy farms and things more tangible. My little girl's powerpoint was so much less polished than the rest and she had gotten so flustered in her presentation that she forgot to explain what the business IS. I was glad to see my doubts shattered.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYYWWTEdKHraLzCrBnRVeKRWrMNzYOy7v6hV1uAwSRsPczhA4bhya6edh7IC9IeXnNPn-O2tE9mA1bBR-Tr5_yjLNoTNOY8CO3Eo9GarYRV2GKObyeb5jBs3eX5L5RiXsCgBXm-K2HhwV/s1600/100_0719.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYYYWWTEdKHraLzCrBnRVeKRWrMNzYOy7v6hV1uAwSRsPczhA4bhya6edh7IC9IeXnNPn-O2tE9mA1bBR-Tr5_yjLNoTNOY8CO3Eo9GarYRV2GKObyeb5jBs3eX5L5RiXsCgBXm-K2HhwV/s320/100_0719.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It all came together and now my girls will be receiving the start-up money to actually open this crazy thing here in the Plaza in Santa Cruz. This means I now have a shit ton of work to do. But it's pretty cool...</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As soon as the competition was over, the profesora and the child skittered off back to the mountains and I was officially on vacation. Ridiculously exciting. That next day was the first actual vacation day I had ever used. I had only gone before for the free days of Thanksgiving and 4<sup>th</sup> of July, not more than long weekends.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That was Friday and the only other volunteer staying in town that night was Biz and we kind of owned Lima for a night. Biz fell up a flight of steps and I ran full speed into a wall. So that's a good night. The next morning, Ellen rolled in and she went with me to the airport. My friend Ben friggin' Brown flew in from the US to visit for 9 days. The first familiar face in 15 months. Super disorienting at first. So exciting too.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ben and I went and did some Lima exploring for the night, after a big ceviche dinner with Biz and Ellen. The next morning they took off, Lisa rolled in, and we had a long semi-lazy day before en and I hopped an overnight bus to Huaraz, in the department of Ancash.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Huaraz is a high Andes town and the capital of mountain adventure in Perú. It is at about 10,000 feet and is the base camp for all sorts of mountain climbing, rafting, rock climbing, horseback riding, bungee jumping, ice caving, and a million other awesome things. When we rolled in, Ben, coming from sea level, was already hit with altitude sickness. So we relaxed all day that day, got on all the necessary meds and planned our next trips.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The next day we woke up at the crack of dawn to catch the van to the trailhead for the day's acclimatization hike. They said this hike was of a pretty decent level of difficulty and went to a lake at about 14,500 feet. They said if we could do that, we could survive any of the longer non-technical treks. </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I had thus far been unaffected by the altitude, since I live at about 7,000 feet in Cajamarca. It wasn't until we got another couple thousand feet up that I got hit and it was brutal. Also, kind of hilarious. By the end of this three hours climb, I was taking a breath for every step, setting goal posts for myself on where I was allowed to throw up, and laughing and practically crawling along with this nice Argentinian girl.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPatIi6nk9NUR53yI6DjygHgAxjQW5vfWZCf_inYRV3mN-YdL8VrIngbpYH8tLcbGL8JKRrf4toYSm1q8nFRjnN1bm_VwZTcaW_jkErgXb-aEWl-8eFTppxFU4n4ZHsffpCcf2iJ9T7OQN/s1600/100_0742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPatIi6nk9NUR53yI6DjygHgAxjQW5vfWZCf_inYRV3mN-YdL8VrIngbpYH8tLcbGL8JKRrf4toYSm1q8nFRjnN1bm_VwZTcaW_jkErgXb-aEWl-8eFTppxFU4n4ZHsffpCcf2iJ9T7OQN/s320/100_0742.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4Nf3UKycZ_aL7HYp3mNndH17mWTYAp6V5wOOgCz3Jbi5LCJVflNGppr_bu5HbPYaTtBKAgqn-Uuk5Qv9QcF7V7-_j0UQGsKgf8uNv_B46chjJFkVJDKozmkyae4MpYfuBp0uvpkLMPOD/s1600/100_0749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The views were breathtaking the whole way, just climbing up and around all these huge glaciar topped peaks, but the lake itself was the perfect cherry on top. A color of blue that puts Crater Lake to shame, sitting literally feet below a huge sparkling glacier. As the sun shone on, chunks of ice starting falling off the glacier, into the lake, keeping it exceptionally cool for us. So, of course, we decided to strip down and jump in.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsuj5YLql4kCx24KjFfe1zVbiyykf6_eceUpc6IqZm04ymHLv8laEFCnsMbN0gq4a3whfQ76fqflXDjnLDjKu7G8rrj4mGB5D4akA6iOn5039J2rhaDwhyk33ATlm-m-98w42SZSI2bS5D/s1600/100_0745.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsuj5YLql4kCx24KjFfe1zVbiyykf6_eceUpc6IqZm04ymHLv8laEFCnsMbN0gq4a3whfQ76fqflXDjnLDjKu7G8rrj4mGB5D4akA6iOn5039J2rhaDwhyk33ATlm-m-98w42SZSI2bS5D/s320/100_0745.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
and so... Panties! Except the French girl, of course. And I had already started getting dressed again before the group shot.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4Nf3UKycZ_aL7HYp3mNndH17mWTYAp6V5wOOgCz3Jbi5LCJVflNGppr_bu5HbPYaTtBKAgqn-Uuk5Qv9QcF7V7-_j0UQGsKgf8uNv_B46chjJFkVJDKozmkyae4MpYfuBp0uvpkLMPOD/s1600/100_0749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC4Nf3UKycZ_aL7HYp3mNndH17mWTYAp6V5wOOgCz3Jbi5LCJVflNGppr_bu5HbPYaTtBKAgqn-Uuk5Qv9QcF7V7-_j0UQGsKgf8uNv_B46chjJFkVJDKozmkyae4MpYfuBp0uvpkLMPOD/s320/100_0749.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOxZFYYe6uziyRU-DIcjpnVWCzDOfXOpEWqGEgMZD_zbehTdciVAxpih3506o7DKzEtsz26V5omF1GJInFdFZwbAsEJmhK0wS7rujS-u942j1Caq3AaXdX4bPaFs7XPwoEeVxqh7nuBa2/s1600/100_0756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCOxZFYYe6uziyRU-DIcjpnVWCzDOfXOpEWqGEgMZD_zbehTdciVAxpih3506o7DKzEtsz26V5omF1GJInFdFZwbAsEJmhK0wS7rujS-u942j1Caq3AaXdX4bPaFs7XPwoEeVxqh7nuBa2/s320/100_0756.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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That last picture is the whole crew we were hiking with. Some french kids, Argentinians, a Peruvian, an Ireali, some Austrians, some Swiss, and Ben and I as the sole Estadounidenses. It was a great crew and we all became buddies. We decided on the van ride back that we all needed like NINE beers after that trek.<br />
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To be continued in a few days...Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-84861857354908957932011-08-02T15:31:00.000-07:002011-08-02T15:31:47.615-07:00Días normales.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcY4R-uVW7hl2At2ProzM5QXj_3KJ1BwLKJH70vEGaOO-mKYlAfYOjmlNM6pef78LTsoNNO-710eZd8yePfsCnONW3te8svJh6nFROOdE31o4OD3okT6k9jFdT_UtTMoAIxSqbqvQ-Lq9/s1600/100_0481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdcY4R-uVW7hl2At2ProzM5QXj_3KJ1BwLKJH70vEGaOO-mKYlAfYOjmlNM6pef78LTsoNNO-710eZd8yePfsCnONW3te8svJh6nFROOdE31o4OD3okT6k9jFdT_UtTMoAIxSqbqvQ-Lq9/s320/100_0481.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My family and I - my brothers are absolute GIANTS in this country.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfasting with my little bro.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9qS5hYpOCf0YX34TB9Jow8d0dEbS-vX6dMGG_G7XbkGgFwolgOiN5zE7O8ePwjIcrY9_dBVTAl67FYf2IpS6YKY8qjyjMSnYh9FDn1TSlTU0_azFm0Pi0m_Y0zW5boaOb7TQOsMfU2fE/s1600/100_0392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9qS5hYpOCf0YX34TB9Jow8d0dEbS-vX6dMGG_G7XbkGgFwolgOiN5zE7O8ePwjIcrY9_dBVTAl67FYf2IpS6YKY8qjyjMSnYh9FDn1TSlTU0_azFm0Pi0m_Y0zW5boaOb7TQOsMfU2fE/s320/100_0392.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Went to throw something away but it looks like some cuyes get the trashcan this day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMu_oWeDNdv8dZlKh84qMIkX-BZS-OzH-xRKI9IxI4Uck_AmNRGs96C1ixajY1uCuTf2mvJXy2wV-eoI-s1RvZnUzoA_IUxKIgMco3L4mVgQzgL1WN8OQ1P9moCT5gZiJbcAU3wus1b5f/s1600/100_0479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyMu_oWeDNdv8dZlKh84qMIkX-BZS-OzH-xRKI9IxI4Uck_AmNRGs96C1ixajY1uCuTf2mvJXy2wV-eoI-s1RvZnUzoA_IUxKIgMco3L4mVgQzgL1WN8OQ1P9moCT5gZiJbcAU3wus1b5f/s320/100_0479.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cuyes and clothesline steak. I took this photo from the breakfast table.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwxcaVJ3_U7gk5jYn6a5fnlQIV8BiHyYxNcr5wIV03eBmxwrX6NKLfUkzsueVUJZ6JM6flQSCfzqcjzOEFH2Va73lJ1CDkqVLZyt6IY2qc-09nnr6DIOXujtPUlXE-C_BJelw7K31eVE8/s1600/100_0526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwxcaVJ3_U7gk5jYn6a5fnlQIV8BiHyYxNcr5wIV03eBmxwrX6NKLfUkzsueVUJZ6JM6flQSCfzqcjzOEFH2Va73lJ1CDkqVLZyt6IY2qc-09nnr6DIOXujtPUlXE-C_BJelw7K31eVE8/s320/100_0526.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom was making eels or something and I was making a pancake with chin chins.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkL_vM1gVCiOPL8agBi6f0O3QPxhyphenhyphen2lZO6lcTWUmUqw_X1bgL5DNpiR1Bb2x9othqo4aw8xyBqpZgWYJ_vBuCcE6aZXeXsMK0hG43EaCGLiOdncRtZYEN-JFphhAm2_3O1N2K_E-e_Pzny/s1600/100_0386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkL_vM1gVCiOPL8agBi6f0O3QPxhyphenhyphen2lZO6lcTWUmUqw_X1bgL5DNpiR1Bb2x9othqo4aw8xyBqpZgWYJ_vBuCcE6aZXeXsMK0hG43EaCGLiOdncRtZYEN-JFphhAm2_3O1N2K_E-e_Pzny/s320/100_0386.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My anticucho lady in my plaza. Best anticucho ever.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiOK8et16XdO0ftZbBwdL3LBoGPdm11S52HYtj9x8HaVWi-AKF_wnT9XTKRIpB9DUrkITnIA5-Sq7V2D-10EiDYDU59HYo0Xk8jpjo2KwG-_kr3NRLubm204GZ7_IM3GCNSZza6JJ6KpX/s1600/100_0396.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiOK8et16XdO0ftZbBwdL3LBoGPdm11S52HYtj9x8HaVWi-AKF_wnT9XTKRIpB9DUrkITnIA5-Sq7V2D-10EiDYDU59HYo0Xk8jpjo2KwG-_kr3NRLubm204GZ7_IM3GCNSZza6JJ6KpX/s320/100_0396.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Movie night with the kiddies.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUuru7bY8rYD_4ErsWQFmssW7SompWSSj-jfoGBkQuA9ytOOwYz2eWJqxoXfcy2o05FeNRir0a31r6lJHFezuvHmVXkGGTCO0_eLy5g4Em0DB9XyPFqP8S7aftVA3vFAPKhsQs4XsqPfe/s1600/100_0436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqUuru7bY8rYD_4ErsWQFmssW7SompWSSj-jfoGBkQuA9ytOOwYz2eWJqxoXfcy2o05FeNRir0a31r6lJHFezuvHmVXkGGTCO0_eLy5g4Em0DB9XyPFqP8S7aftVA3vFAPKhsQs4XsqPfe/s320/100_0436.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some Science Club kids at movie night.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvY08ELSH_ytJK0ZXbmQI0eEuBOSm2sFzqN9Kgx8H2ZxKaFEJRWZH4jtwqblnJLe0R6ikMKbvE3Aw6YPl_cLg7rsbvpsqHStjOou7QO7MGpEPlhT0hMRuLsn2Nai_DndhgatgnO_yNDfL/s1600/100_0402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvY08ELSH_ytJK0ZXbmQI0eEuBOSm2sFzqN9Kgx8H2ZxKaFEJRWZH4jtwqblnJLe0R6ikMKbvE3Aw6YPl_cLg7rsbvpsqHStjOou7QO7MGpEPlhT0hMRuLsn2Nai_DndhgatgnO_yNDfL/s320/100_0402.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready for movies at the Muni.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kids crying. Science Club learned a valuable lesson: Do not show pregnant woman slasher porn at childrens movie night.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little entreprenuer girls working on their epic business plan.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, bro, and buddies in from Lima.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCQRkYOKJ0CTWIWyv3HUNdA4_uLyXr9HOJ3QZC-EL-RxUi1_6hjfoxj2bXszodxyc6eyko3KPI3KkikN-25H2scW3YmKOoHy_-Ba_seK5cAfsor29VKhzWjXm3aI8WZV9jXa1G_YmU2jO/s1600/100_0440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhCQRkYOKJ0CTWIWyv3HUNdA4_uLyXr9HOJ3QZC-EL-RxUi1_6hjfoxj2bXszodxyc6eyko3KPI3KkikN-25H2scW3YmKOoHy_-Ba_seK5cAfsor29VKhzWjXm3aI8WZV9jXa1G_YmU2jO/s320/100_0440.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bro always gets me out with him when he comes to town.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXU3FRszX-AqLTWYd1fu94cbw8HiBTNXhh5TI9m4fFdUOeqC2CQVypLliFXwHpizFg8GduYYLDmAvLxOOcQHBqvYPGQXmIjtDdWE_3Y4T8hsQKSSVxZNlWSELIFvbEy8v5aIVqEMAf4fz_/s1600/100_0490.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXU3FRszX-AqLTWYd1fu94cbw8HiBTNXhh5TI9m4fFdUOeqC2CQVypLliFXwHpizFg8GduYYLDmAvLxOOcQHBqvYPGQXmIjtDdWE_3Y4T8hsQKSSVxZNlWSELIFvbEy8v5aIVqEMAf4fz_/s320/100_0490.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They installed a fire hydrant in my town - which is just weird as there are no firefighters or a fire truck. It is right near the colegio and it didn't take long for them to figure out how to open it up. Whee.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEw9Tq5z2XJeipcbWq2r701lChnWPT45ukl-vnlwZzyUcysHy0a1MEu-Il1AgDYN2phMKUWptk7wx1kdA3sXhIbGoqPnN_ewMNYShSKpYlD2n_J0T412VJag8WzROIbDEuSLDvx13lv7Ex/s1600/100_0514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEw9Tq5z2XJeipcbWq2r701lChnWPT45ukl-vnlwZzyUcysHy0a1MEu-Il1AgDYN2phMKUWptk7wx1kdA3sXhIbGoqPnN_ewMNYShSKpYlD2n_J0T412VJag8WzROIbDEuSLDvx13lv7Ex/s320/100_0514.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This guy spent 40 minutes trying to close it but mostly just getting really wet. It was hilarious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSGl9y87rtWOkXA-_QqanE_-AmF2A0-7cWOCvrnkGL8fnnp90kvHzI5CLf1Cevx4U8jnOx9mk5G9oUyO3j1ssWT3wW5ngQO8Q55xDxtcljSn2JecFLFAOG9QG_-YtKambHAC8KgfpOnuL/s1600/100_0507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSGl9y87rtWOkXA-_QqanE_-AmF2A0-7cWOCvrnkGL8fnnp90kvHzI5CLf1Cevx4U8jnOx9mk5G9oUyO3j1ssWT3wW5ngQO8Q55xDxtcljSn2JecFLFAOG9QG_-YtKambHAC8KgfpOnuL/s320/100_0507.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was the biggest excitement in my town i na very long time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tmCAjIrb_Qk3HJv9C0fxE5lfdK9fRBtyly5-Yb5W6S7OmLeSHRs5JL3zIRc44S1xPt8ccBu79uKxXpbFSPZaCNNaW21R-sGbQ0XVWyNSqEvofvDM_AQ77McF2d_D-bs7-U2TFUi_wRhH/s1600/100_0522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9tmCAjIrb_Qk3HJv9C0fxE5lfdK9fRBtyly5-Yb5W6S7OmLeSHRs5JL3zIRc44S1xPt8ccBu79uKxXpbFSPZaCNNaW21R-sGbQ0XVWyNSqEvofvDM_AQ77McF2d_D-bs7-U2TFUi_wRhH/s320/100_0522.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He eventually got it closed to a lot of cheering. I walked by half an hour later and it was open again.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UtaRrcKnkeJ-XXuzon5vlpmU-K8t-NzeNHrGtgv1jmC2iC0nbywjxYJ89Z8J3mPTZTMs-6F1nuNdDPWoTKK3Dh9NWs-vva1e1jmwFCyLfRTMcIsdFvN2eqFCLb2gqiGNWHTgNHKYcGuQ/s1600/100_0523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UtaRrcKnkeJ-XXuzon5vlpmU-K8t-NzeNHrGtgv1jmC2iC0nbywjxYJ89Z8J3mPTZTMs-6F1nuNdDPWoTKK3Dh9NWs-vva1e1jmwFCyLfRTMcIsdFvN2eqFCLb2gqiGNWHTgNHKYcGuQ/s320/100_0523.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Science Club is actually a Science, Technology, and Environment Club and they made this for their school.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5CRNOK7TQZAwesL_lFmj2ywMAqJe0iCzoiRG0wCF_-kql7A2K1DK22S1YdcKsp9T1O7krXgZKYMrmgehbE9Y9_hf7-XcNR-YOC3V6dxNSr9sHICS0iQKhGtg7sFIbv1J-tfsRIfFTGdw/s1600/100_0573.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp5CRNOK7TQZAwesL_lFmj2ywMAqJe0iCzoiRG0wCF_-kql7A2K1DK22S1YdcKsp9T1O7krXgZKYMrmgehbE9Y9_hf7-XcNR-YOC3V6dxNSr9sHICS0iQKhGtg7sFIbv1J-tfsRIfFTGdw/s320/100_0573.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fiestas Patrias celebrations in my plaza.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtk75N-roMl6IMJL-eC-1uzSKLmE4iaiI6BqOKaw1103Bw0BeIGuuEgK9knB8UukQ6WWX1LabGE-JeAlWE2visYKzVIuxPJdN7II8SBzrytAWtzowOBddNRp6Jorcce8hRKgJ9lqdxEEul/s1600/100_0560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtk75N-roMl6IMJL-eC-1uzSKLmE4iaiI6BqOKaw1103Bw0BeIGuuEgK9knB8UukQ6WWX1LabGE-JeAlWE2visYKzVIuxPJdN7II8SBzrytAWtzowOBddNRp6Jorcce8hRKgJ9lqdxEEul/s320/100_0560.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early morning running buddy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkelN3_UQKMN-Edzsfb6CO4tOuzk8W_hHy7wgxUzNccbYMvNZ9OzfLoZZYdmwYUEMuXL33IpIDKMXMXisFboZE8rX1Mu2dR_Op8C5bYw-jLsuvIvl2DEcxvJV5zcTswzjbgewhYBcdo3Bc/s1600/100_0566.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkelN3_UQKMN-Edzsfb6CO4tOuzk8W_hHy7wgxUzNccbYMvNZ9OzfLoZZYdmwYUEMuXL33IpIDKMXMXisFboZE8rX1Mu2dR_Op8C5bYw-jLsuvIvl2DEcxvJV5zcTswzjbgewhYBcdo3Bc/s320/100_0566.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More running friends.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8p_Hj1ThJW6_AnPM6Unlm6FjoCPhAvQBKQHvAMXJPUdaXhRC_jBbLSHmO3_jHn8ZpynqLcnqZ5Q_HoHw80nsgbP8bCJnkyh_5jdc9LaaTakn_lEi7yOGj_oKgIEkkRHcmSMQmnyTt-Xw/s1600/100_0591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE8p_Hj1ThJW6_AnPM6Unlm6FjoCPhAvQBKQHvAMXJPUdaXhRC_jBbLSHmO3_jHn8ZpynqLcnqZ5Q_HoHw80nsgbP8bCJnkyh_5jdc9LaaTakn_lEi7yOGj_oKgIEkkRHcmSMQmnyTt-Xw/s320/100_0591.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jesus Zack.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrWWoMWT66Veq5Z88KHstxIHArzNSGjr9Iu0rRwMjC0Rihw666pBIBC6fCJn1vfGZDL_VxDcLgYvG_fgyq8LMFhk9LGNj-4R0yTJOCDE0ZnLhIlZ0WaVuTHOcQES1z-EqJD-VJq4xH8su/s1600/100_0592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrWWoMWT66Veq5Z88KHstxIHArzNSGjr9Iu0rRwMjC0Rihw666pBIBC6fCJn1vfGZDL_VxDcLgYvG_fgyq8LMFhk9LGNj-4R0yTJOCDE0ZnLhIlZ0WaVuTHOcQES1z-EqJD-VJq4xH8su/s320/100_0592.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just Zacking around. I am making a Zackumentary.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs-anD1bRY4hVBdyl-euBY4nginb1sFWV1imJqS753fcdmkXD83SLJncaEz8H2_gWpp1UWurXxcGj2NMPQIsQQ82ohKQ3SCtDLN_5ujTXHsFAve7mXrTeIP2crG0UQCrwh6RimV7h5yft/s1600/100_0602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigs-anD1bRY4hVBdyl-euBY4nginb1sFWV1imJqS753fcdmkXD83SLJncaEz8H2_gWpp1UWurXxcGj2NMPQIsQQ82ohKQ3SCtDLN_5ujTXHsFAve7mXrTeIP2crG0UQCrwh6RimV7h5yft/s320/100_0602.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Annie. In sleeping bag.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5hm53LhkOTOw0h__0XdCo8GQJod3MC8gVklvWFYP6WONWWavJOWthASlJkXUnF4kX_hyp_YRypp0f4d-oiAUH_As98rbUJY_frjDXp18IrjuDLjxZ8JrGQ00HQ7e-bFaXZ-kw9HzYLjB/s1600/100_0603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF5hm53LhkOTOw0h__0XdCo8GQJod3MC8gVklvWFYP6WONWWavJOWthASlJkXUnF4kX_hyp_YRypp0f4d-oiAUH_As98rbUJY_frjDXp18IrjuDLjxZ8JrGQ00HQ7e-bFaXZ-kw9HzYLjB/s320/100_0603.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found him like this.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uafIIVYGqD0vbNuDNoAwDJo41d2A2dTGxLIyxNRbjcy5yiEqA9eWrpQCt4DZzs8L2A3smp24XuH6rpgVeqN-BwdEG2m_fLlUyF00ejAWcKoPMDPsXwOtqbkEB84eB6Qx7GTI0s1Vdsy0/s1600/100_0604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uafIIVYGqD0vbNuDNoAwDJo41d2A2dTGxLIyxNRbjcy5yiEqA9eWrpQCt4DZzs8L2A3smp24XuH6rpgVeqN-BwdEG2m_fLlUyF00ejAWcKoPMDPsXwOtqbkEB84eB6Qx7GTI0s1Vdsy0/s320/100_0604.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inexplicable couch spinning hilarity.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghj-HSMS_nizqsLkY1I2UmNURnRGLirHxsDGNlpk8Z8K3OSgvlCrL-QuaBoRghJ99lWeAnS4uVo4xeEinb_BR-5FBFKYO1qXUdUAaaiB5alUP4UBYQVME4WKz41fGjQOQyROKzX1j93oK-/s1600/100_0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghj-HSMS_nizqsLkY1I2UmNURnRGLirHxsDGNlpk8Z8K3OSgvlCrL-QuaBoRghJ99lWeAnS4uVo4xeEinb_BR-5FBFKYO1qXUdUAaaiB5alUP4UBYQVME4WKz41fGjQOQyROKzX1j93oK-/s320/100_0610.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Relax-y Chota.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXeEAfsBFFctN0Fs4jt-u3LnlzVqgrOEWl_Kfysk1cqH1J17-EWUrnviX4b1NEgtXsFMR6Ykl_YTtiul1QE44a91817IBS0cv0xeUrFLgFxNtXL-FaXveX3pHOl114CzfG3GmeTRPYGNT/s1600/100_0611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXeEAfsBFFctN0Fs4jt-u3LnlzVqgrOEWl_Kfysk1cqH1J17-EWUrnviX4b1NEgtXsFMR6Ykl_YTtiul1QE44a91817IBS0cv0xeUrFLgFxNtXL-FaXveX3pHOl114CzfG3GmeTRPYGNT/s320/100_0611.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Found him here again three hours later.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibr15J9biFEOOYxbv-xhONzkj-qKB1u6hJs3EYaoHZh6qWMdXPrCxK5_s1gR2B8lbzKA1RB6n68LkJp9GNEyhAZWTttreW2L36wGsLP0456JJRUKLGhd16TyHvdIrEUf61PKL8lHmzH2hf/s1600/100_0625.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibr15J9biFEOOYxbv-xhONzkj-qKB1u6hJs3EYaoHZh6qWMdXPrCxK5_s1gR2B8lbzKA1RB6n68LkJp9GNEyhAZWTttreW2L36wGsLP0456JJRUKLGhd16TyHvdIrEUf61PKL8lHmzH2hf/s320/100_0625.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two weeks after we despedida-ed Christi, we despedida-ed Lisa. We actually went out for this one! To the one bar in Chota.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99nSvqUa8NDZSLFLitPFY2aSuphzbJGibBwkLBjJanxLK5mUTN3DRVTfd9Vh85Q2UrZzTv9Fhv_vV5SJs1xBTAMCgaN66sj7X_td_dOzNvF4PttJF4gL773J8vTrD1AveW87nMRXsfYF5/s1600/100_0627.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg99nSvqUa8NDZSLFLitPFY2aSuphzbJGibBwkLBjJanxLK5mUTN3DRVTfd9Vh85Q2UrZzTv9Fhv_vV5SJs1xBTAMCgaN66sj7X_td_dOzNvF4PttJF4gL773J8vTrD1AveW87nMRXsfYF5/s320/100_0627.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We got all pretty before we went out. Paid off too - the guys at the next table bought us peanuts!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19E4y6fOPMPFPF01Wd636iNquz7Pa4z9kIt8zK8_1wQuNDdbYYRFF188tERIjxhD-w7LnrKUeFIS1RaMZKIMjTtiiKgM81m0ZiRfvor2DNbRCvAYmBWnlMH2snXD70Y0tczH9UoYwUSut/s1600/100_0628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg19E4y6fOPMPFPF01Wd636iNquz7Pa4z9kIt8zK8_1wQuNDdbYYRFF188tERIjxhD-w7LnrKUeFIS1RaMZKIMjTtiiKgM81m0ZiRfvor2DNbRCvAYmBWnlMH2snXD70Y0tczH9UoYwUSut/s320/100_0628.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Delicious peanuts.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRm9gybGviBkWfsvwKTl8F1r76ELZeyO1sPBXT6MpsmVWLQIKmNghkrR-sTppOiWWOStRKRviZvhYhLf2hL2vWoSSZDuMF_QeLmpDba0B3Xa0UuwFzJqq17ofJ9TucNOjpVDrwTyYavFs2/s1600/100_0630.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRm9gybGviBkWfsvwKTl8F1r76ELZeyO1sPBXT6MpsmVWLQIKmNghkrR-sTppOiWWOStRKRviZvhYhLf2hL2vWoSSZDuMF_QeLmpDba0B3Xa0UuwFzJqq17ofJ9TucNOjpVDrwTyYavFs2/s320/100_0630.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Special.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBp13NcELqL4y7bTAEF3y9IPMkC5eIVSduZFlHzHSFIlOoTFgL0pzK_RVqojzBYeDteoiiYF4mchWQVyUDks5zhwEeSZ3OU1_RqtdtKLgdzYx2nG7y9bdsG2qcn-hl0hnOXZhG8t2n50y/s1600/100_0634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSBp13NcELqL4y7bTAEF3y9IPMkC5eIVSduZFlHzHSFIlOoTFgL0pzK_RVqojzBYeDteoiiYF4mchWQVyUDks5zhwEeSZ3OU1_RqtdtKLgdzYx2nG7y9bdsG2qcn-hl0hnOXZhG8t2n50y/s320/100_0634.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the inevitable 2am caldo. This is something I will really miss about this country. From 2am til dawn, soup stands pop up everywhere to fend off hangovers. And its so delicious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATHbMlYO4hKibvXw0EOXJiyfeFmqQUNpHto3DJTLzHopWOdNcdAxkUOWvmFLtKMZbNOxf0LqQfe1tQlF695ST-pq0F9heGK_lWeiKh2RxZLrN_MSPrkhznmTIO97_VfsTmdsZcy9G9gym/s1600/100_0632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjATHbMlYO4hKibvXw0EOXJiyfeFmqQUNpHto3DJTLzHopWOdNcdAxkUOWvmFLtKMZbNOxf0LqQfe1tQlF695ST-pq0F9heGK_lWeiKh2RxZLrN_MSPrkhznmTIO97_VfsTmdsZcy9G9gym/s320/100_0632.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty Chota. I don't know how I will survive without Lisa.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQsYCx6PB-u_qSlyT2zoFhSdKiVFIdNGSR62MCPrFPyAMad_mPIznCw-yf9XGh99Kx7RitizKX-N3CJWK6t2QLKLSYk5s6xKUPa0VTu7XMjaScPta8v3s_wRCvc8YMPUDXVsXwAKkRW1a/s1600/100_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizQsYCx6PB-u_qSlyT2zoFhSdKiVFIdNGSR62MCPrFPyAMad_mPIznCw-yf9XGh99Kx7RitizKX-N3CJWK6t2QLKLSYk5s6xKUPa0VTu7XMjaScPta8v3s_wRCvc8YMPUDXVsXwAKkRW1a/s320/100_0633.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRRq-sJJHXloLUn8McTc8Wv2bISaYbyRiiB2mBiGfv3NRUjKXuOcGCWmdGbdoSVEBIm_y1U1bU9XuKCgV_gmN6fPrJQyEJlD1gExO4r8tvmZqXI1CBOmE5yE6jDcHq2T22mJ9HRl7ecmC8/s1600/100_0393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><br />
</a></td></tr>
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</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-85105610540422463202011-07-12T14:07:00.000-07:002011-07-12T16:27:02.424-07:00Hace tiempo.I suppose it's been quite a while since I last blogged. My two or three readers are surely quite depressed by now. I don't feel like I have tons to say - but here we go!<br />
<br />
Work is work: classes continuing and going well with the daily Vacational Orientation and Youth Entreprenuership; library project as always is at a crawl, as the space the Muni gave me sucks and I am convincing them to give me a better one; science club is rad and the kids have raised a ton of money with their donuts and have planned a movie night; won the grant for the science club so we are a definite go with the telescopes and everything else; community banks are plugging along - still just the one that is fully functioning without my support and four others still in their launching phases.<br />
<br />
So, done with all that boring work crap. Just kidding, I really love my work and am happy it is going well, I am just feeling slightly frustrated at the moment as I am writing this blog while waiting for a meeting that was supposed to start over an hour ago. Thinking it's not happening... Some days I feel more accustomed to and comfortable with Peru and it's sucky work habits and sometimes I feel like the opposite, like it's all building up and I will soon burn it all down.<br />
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I went on a vacation. It was beyond spectacular. For the Fourth of July all volunteers get 4 free vacation days. Five of my friends and I decided to hit Chachapoyas. It's the capital of Amazonas and high altitude jungle - cloud forest, really. Pretty chilly but just gorgeous and surrounded with amazing ruins and caves and waterfalls and such. The nearby Kuelap ruins are known as the Machu Picchu of the North, or the Poor Man's Machu Picchu. Also, it's really close to where I live and therefore made for a real cheap vacation - I didn't have to bust into my savings at all, just had to not save this month instead.<br />
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We got out there and it turns out that many other small groups of volunteers had come up with the same vacation plan. No one had a complete head count, but there seemed to be between 30 and 40 volunteers running around this tiny mountain town all weekend. Ok, screw typing more. Here are some pictures:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Me and Huey - Bus ride to Gocta waterfall. Day 1.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdrIga9_ZVWen12AeiO6LuqmAtJP4qCxVDjsPezkieTBntpy7iMoOnutBZlPHvoG3x4AHqk0qER-Gibw3s6FrlXFuQDALu9P3dWueQ9hPNxZL-67fk4nJ36DvooxMYyS6LFT3HUa0n9yI/s1600/100_0013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHdrIga9_ZVWen12AeiO6LuqmAtJP4qCxVDjsPezkieTBntpy7iMoOnutBZlPHvoG3x4AHqk0qER-Gibw3s6FrlXFuQDALu9P3dWueQ9hPNxZL-67fk4nJ36DvooxMYyS6LFT3HUa0n9yI/s320/100_0013.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">That morning, looking to go out to Gocta, we ran into a total of 21 volunteers with the same plan. It proved to be cheapest to all rent a bus together and we were then officially a bunch of tourists - so here is our cheesy tourist photo. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqo0eUfVsC6G_nmCRM2FxzWnkAulDF_L2ZSRrXTGoXywCm8-HCL3nGvXlREjf4421gY0gGotB2QUNkV_eAkJyq2lHOvl7KPJt83HWY5zlMv-wVJEDdnB3izdTwYxO3X-QvgZruX1fXCzke/s1600/100_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqo0eUfVsC6G_nmCRM2FxzWnkAulDF_L2ZSRrXTGoXywCm8-HCL3nGvXlREjf4421gY0gGotB2QUNkV_eAkJyq2lHOvl7KPJt83HWY5zlMv-wVJEDdnB3izdTwYxO3X-QvgZruX1fXCzke/s320/100_0030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"> An hour or so into the hike, there was a mid-jungle random ass beer stand. Perfect.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK-VnPqYM8p-LtnvNIRZmktA_8unXaVCapHRRASfdaTZor4PKDyDB43czvGGcQbLwnBTqMz7kYf40w6EfdBcEZJWO-5W96hUwgOdxhglaAEGXVX_HL3oX9ank4vufbcbTRbmPI8RoDDYN/s1600/100_0046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWK-VnPqYM8p-LtnvNIRZmktA_8unXaVCapHRRASfdaTZor4PKDyDB43czvGGcQbLwnBTqMz7kYf40w6EfdBcEZJWO-5W96hUwgOdxhglaAEGXVX_HL3oX9ank4vufbcbTRbmPI8RoDDYN/s320/100_0046.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Me and the waterfall. Quite a ways inthe hike. Third highest waterfall in the world. I can't even begin to describe how tall that friggin' thing was up close. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IthpGu59cmdPwq62Y8ChIjnZUIHX4KKP47P-VxqOg5B41oAXtNTjqgVhZe37DMVuvjFkL5GyQjFCykZKi6oIoFtPv7oHGGsAeN2uQeH7PJRqNh58g7f9lM9APTUeCu-0q4UdZPK_hNuB/s1600/100_0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2IthpGu59cmdPwq62Y8ChIjnZUIHX4KKP47P-VxqOg5B41oAXtNTjqgVhZe37DMVuvjFkL5GyQjFCykZKi6oIoFtPv7oHGGsAeN2uQeH7PJRqNh58g7f9lM9APTUeCu-0q4UdZPK_hNuB/s320/100_0054.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Everyone was very cold, very tired, and very wet for the ride back to town. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUz0XX8x0qKCZkqk72Kq29tOhtytVeniQKjUznXk6pHSnmzPDWjpRg_P3LKSR-hTzRzHNIG7J9n377unU9GiMyNMUdece2_A7zLsS8vDCcKWV5NInMCgZ9LMX5KQwJfX-n09sPhorv0zF/s1600/100_0069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguUz0XX8x0qKCZkqk72Kq29tOhtytVeniQKjUznXk6pHSnmzPDWjpRg_P3LKSR-hTzRzHNIG7J9n377unU9GiMyNMUdece2_A7zLsS8vDCcKWV5NInMCgZ9LMX5KQwJfX-n09sPhorv0zF/s320/100_0069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">The next day, another large group of us went to see the Kuelap ruins. Pretty huge city, 1200 years old. Pretty awesome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTurxnSjud8YTweE1odXjHvtf0L15_9kOnF6KI5MCVW1Acyv0fbPOzuPHwkDFMhB88SzGR1tFf0QzDQwuzC0zd7sHMYbztxt3DjuO3bMaVC0ZkYDU3GZ8Z_1YrW6ADq7LTSunmN6LXdlgh/s1600/100_0081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTurxnSjud8YTweE1odXjHvtf0L15_9kOnF6KI5MCVW1Acyv0fbPOzuPHwkDFMhB88SzGR1tFf0QzDQwuzC0zd7sHMYbztxt3DjuO3bMaVC0ZkYDU3GZ8Z_1YrW6ADq7LTSunmN6LXdlgh/s320/100_0081.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Kuelap fortress. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DUoEAk65Z3d0ibNlbOrSupLiBSXNctUpAYH149V4lexnqgh402mf9SvUz7dpeTi4UOtelLUmO5yBo0ez9lce1TgG287Rwv4vNeEVnAOVTAlUy-u7jBp-NylzTTljfnOoaohKZpP8ZD2f/s1600/100_0088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-DUoEAk65Z3d0ibNlbOrSupLiBSXNctUpAYH149V4lexnqgh402mf9SvUz7dpeTi4UOtelLUmO5yBo0ez9lce1TgG287Rwv4vNeEVnAOVTAlUy-u7jBp-NylzTTljfnOoaohKZpP8ZD2f/s320/100_0088.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Climbing through the ruins. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF6JS_5ZPf87DmKrE1jllYdyl8-w3ma4YFGkO4YhbqcYYBR7n5uZb7SzLT-rZnOz5HqrKMYezEYhD8iEANdwi5OX2vuCXNDbU0-HPeVd_jcjz2jBFo6QtNuQqFv08mgmIBhAiEAjs5AP6/s1600/100_0093.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUF6JS_5ZPf87DmKrE1jllYdyl8-w3ma4YFGkO4YhbqcYYBR7n5uZb7SzLT-rZnOz5HqrKMYezEYhD8iEANdwi5OX2vuCXNDbU0-HPeVd_jcjz2jBFo6QtNuQqFv08mgmIBhAiEAjs5AP6/s320/100_0093.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Ancient human bones and a reconstructed house. There were ruins of about 500 houses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSl7K069O1WU33v9dEV_NEYXE916wFXqv0smrvDRCx-X9XF_szDzpVuNlsFojTLUvEfun0W6o8WeURKGj-M3-e1TPfGbGNMQlSl1cRznXM4p6Nqh4JiYaRPKqH_veLP6x85brzYuW71nZ-/s1600/100_0112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSl7K069O1WU33v9dEV_NEYXE916wFXqv0smrvDRCx-X9XF_szDzpVuNlsFojTLUvEfun0W6o8WeURKGj-M3-e1TPfGbGNMQlSl1cRznXM4p6Nqh4JiYaRPKqH_veLP6x85brzYuW71nZ-/s320/100_0112.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY862iajK_hJQ2XVLyMx6XtkP7nmTTgiZcymog8qxcmB37dC3COXSmPGjEFRNPGYZwkYWDaYFluoJKwxXorvUAENFRfZgQApWPHc4EwYb1uHLTHYQJYgAVUUxWdEQxGw5wabS5WQVkqcj/s1600/100_0136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSY862iajK_hJQ2XVLyMx6XtkP7nmTTgiZcymog8qxcmB37dC3COXSmPGjEFRNPGYZwkYWDaYFluoJKwxXorvUAENFRfZgQApWPHc4EwYb1uHLTHYQJYgAVUUxWdEQxGw5wabS5WQVkqcj/s320/100_0136.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Random llamas in the ruins. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGWBtIzTbrtYHylaoZNX7ZTvS4E9VkxLIiSD2iiXTm-HvBsXt9BLkMyDrqb3iMfAdSIKrIHv9JxlspBwQwPxkWdl3McU2bHa2m3lhFgk-L9ew9LJrmXx33kBrnIiL7Zvn9jabt45cu9zE/s1600/100_0128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGWBtIzTbrtYHylaoZNX7ZTvS4E9VkxLIiSD2iiXTm-HvBsXt9BLkMyDrqb3iMfAdSIKrIHv9JxlspBwQwPxkWdl3McU2bHa2m3lhFgk-L9ew9LJrmXx33kBrnIiL7Zvn9jabt45cu9zE/s320/100_0128.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">This is where they prayed to their gods to take away the smallpox that the Spaniards brought. According to our guide, "Unfortunately, their gods did not exist. So they all died." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbc-jpG4Ba0c0gP1xMbYhOzNi-0w2F0C3pGMx10oyNJ7W8a4s-ggvc4NdOG2h93pUTsHksOP21o5bd7uw4PzhWKPTGmletW81x51ahUFBwsfsmWFtM1KxiMz6hVhCK3gV-siBLK11IPH1P/s1600/100_0148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbc-jpG4Ba0c0gP1xMbYhOzNi-0w2F0C3pGMx10oyNJ7W8a4s-ggvc4NdOG2h93pUTsHksOP21o5bd7uw4PzhWKPTGmletW81x51ahUFBwsfsmWFtM1KxiMz6hVhCK3gV-siBLK11IPH1P/s320/100_0148.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I spent hours, over days, on building this pyramid. Be impressed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTIMuwU_UrZW5FLcfUWXAXfegr5Xm1JSFGejNRV0YxsA3f_h8fhqX-JCU3lAca8IrvW-Gl8dQl20LFor3XlJIcp1Wi1u92sD9ES67DmBW7-VfSWuyM_cKLqUghIzlPPS8qH_nQQix89Wf/s1600/100_0171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTIMuwU_UrZW5FLcfUWXAXfegr5Xm1JSFGejNRV0YxsA3f_h8fhqX-JCU3lAca8IrvW-Gl8dQl20LFor3XlJIcp1Wi1u92sD9ES67DmBW7-VfSWuyM_cKLqUghIzlPPS8qH_nQQix89Wf/s320/100_0171.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">It was only a four day vacation. I left site Thursday and was back Tuesday, so really just a long weekend. Fortunately, when I got back, the circus had come to Santa Cruz. My mom and brother had already been numerous times while I was gone but I convinced my mom to go with me anyways. It was ridiculous. A ghetto tiny tent set up in a dirt pile. Bleachers that EVERYONE was concerned were going to collapse. They were essentially tied together 1x6's. It started an hour and twenty minutes after the time advertised. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The juggler juggled a little better than me. The trapeze artists did some seriously unimpressive spinning around while their ropes were being held up by three clowns leaning their body weight into it to raise and lower the girl. At intermission the clowns were making cotton candy, the ticket takers we popping popcorn, and the trapeze artist/juggler/dog tamer was sitting in the corner drinking. The people from my town were SUPER enthralled with the whole thing. It was all very... charming, as well as your standard level of Peru-dangerous. I realized after that I didn't take pictures - but I did video tape so many chucnks of it. Next time I find good bandwidth I will upload a video or two. For now, here's a picture of the entrance. Great name:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKNJ7_WA6Z04_wYj1RYV0pjZylL8pLHsFwy85NAYyylOlYNRcqB8xKTYJwFUNqFWXAsaya8txdSEavfihKEKpcTqr5F6waxxtHtfhzZzRmBzkibgOcI0DgM9DivHeWGdTPpvl3pFL5Pjc/s1600/100_0184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKNJ7_WA6Z04_wYj1RYV0pjZylL8pLHsFwy85NAYyylOlYNRcqB8xKTYJwFUNqFWXAsaya8txdSEavfihKEKpcTqr5F6waxxtHtfhzZzRmBzkibgOcI0DgM9DivHeWGdTPpvl3pFL5Pjc/s320/100_0184.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Here's a random bonus picture of me and my Entrepenuership girls: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ4kxj1S_6otGZ-bfPz4BZzQgHtTa2FnhsAgY5CcWD2F6v_yqp1V6ECZdFV-er8fVmFd8LQaRPH_dHNcCoUFOe7CLBlKIKtM0pJm92bwVyRmp8MuMDDlsRE3kB-kPdb4FmWMu5mdPzmLr/s1600/100_0261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZ4kxj1S_6otGZ-bfPz4BZzQgHtTa2FnhsAgY5CcWD2F6v_yqp1V6ECZdFV-er8fVmFd8LQaRPH_dHNcCoUFOe7CLBlKIKtM0pJm92bwVyRmp8MuMDDlsRE3kB-kPdb4FmWMu5mdPzmLr/s320/100_0261.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I guess that's it. I am still plugging away at many of the same things, as I mentioned above. Strangely, I am finishing up this blog now as my classes were cancelled this afternoon. It's pouring out. It did yesterday afternoon too. Now, I know when I arrived to site in late August, rainy season was already in full effect and went until May. Things started lightening up in early May and it stopped raining completely by the beginning of June. So I haven't seen any at all and now two days in a row. Is it really going to start again already?<br />
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I hope so. I'm gonna go buy some cocoa makings right now though.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-18144830814001470132011-06-10T14:59:00.000-07:002011-06-10T15:06:08.925-07:00You people at home need to settle down for the next 15 months.Today marks one year since I left home. I thought about writing something about the things I've done and the strange ways I have changed. But, then I realized that you assholes at home have been completely out of control and it's time to tell you to cool your jets for the next year. I am missing too much.<br />
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A huge congratulations to all of my friends who have had babies in the last year!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczB4Z1PLti7nDPbjgiTUGYxwSARLs8OKYXYVMKi8BwTglCa-ZNgSDqvrE4QSII_rWxbh5fBt6QqvP7I-AM9s-FG5wjFAmAF3uUMQxsRJUSBgv2i7YGpLZ6dAIDmdkdlk7bT4ZhaWtmNG4/s1600/JulesKateAdilyn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczB4Z1PLti7nDPbjgiTUGYxwSARLs8OKYXYVMKi8BwTglCa-ZNgSDqvrE4QSII_rWxbh5fBt6QqvP7I-AM9s-FG5wjFAmAF3uUMQxsRJUSBgv2i7YGpLZ6dAIDmdkdlk7bT4ZhaWtmNG4/s320/JulesKateAdilyn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Adilyn Jane</div><div style="text-align: center;">June 24, 2010</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.07in; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSogntn7Zi864EEM9iSBxfhwJcHmimLBO970BYxzrvrZ_r0aTw1K8Mq0ETvp4TKwwvDZLwqaBbw6AP2dK7A_RopqpucTGyGb1NoMiprJhMjJDT0JqRc6kjsTGIzZ0OQsMm0P9wn6OcV7SG/s1600/Ruby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSogntn7Zi864EEM9iSBxfhwJcHmimLBO970BYxzrvrZ_r0aTw1K8Mq0ETvp4TKwwvDZLwqaBbw6AP2dK7A_RopqpucTGyGb1NoMiprJhMjJDT0JqRc6kjsTGIzZ0OQsMm0P9wn6OcV7SG/s320/Ruby.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Ruby </div><div style="text-align: center;">August 6, 2010</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWAM8ifb7QgKEBMGikO_k5JZ3iKXFOQwL0Cc9OaufxadK0i7J1vhqHUV8S-NmlJqxuRUdNAT_zEEsduT2ugABO8xbGj3cygbDpQ4ULIS8UNrifpLyfM8dccMkRkbmmR6AwTOo4AV4Fzut/s1600/NicoVeyla.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWAM8ifb7QgKEBMGikO_k5JZ3iKXFOQwL0Cc9OaufxadK0i7J1vhqHUV8S-NmlJqxuRUdNAT_zEEsduT2ugABO8xbGj3cygbDpQ4ULIS8UNrifpLyfM8dccMkRkbmmR6AwTOo4AV4Fzut/s1600/NicoVeyla.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Veyla<br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 0.07in; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;">August 23rd, 2010</span></span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Qumix0hFrshkV9y56qLVgM7BOHXrTsvwLZm6oFEUYjXWmJbxYJU97vkzCyBUfKue8M6F4RO5elFgAbt42G3UPPC1d0qizYz-RdLq2Oz6NAptb5g1dXm7rD7SmePa8EL8mB5ZV44_INs_/s1600/PaulKatieMax.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Qumix0hFrshkV9y56qLVgM7BOHXrTsvwLZm6oFEUYjXWmJbxYJU97vkzCyBUfKue8M6F4RO5elFgAbt42G3UPPC1d0qizYz-RdLq2Oz6NAptb5g1dXm7rD7SmePa8EL8mB5ZV44_INs_/s320/PaulKatieMax.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Maximillian</div><div style="text-align: center;">November 18, 2010</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqOuaFEZJiI5mrZeDkCR4uEzAgeOy75vFsMdpoHFwIKFsvh69qoTewbfQRJyQ_HUMSXS7VARxTccGbi0NEwo2UMXGR49gMQoLVHi5Cmv2vIfVa2DWsv21UeADZZYMoSz4rQ3ixJIO-H-v/s1600/BrentRachelAzreal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqOuaFEZJiI5mrZeDkCR4uEzAgeOy75vFsMdpoHFwIKFsvh69qoTewbfQRJyQ_HUMSXS7VARxTccGbi0NEwo2UMXGR49gMQoLVHi5Cmv2vIfVa2DWsv21UeADZZYMoSz4rQ3ixJIO-H-v/s320/BrentRachelAzreal.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Azreal</div><div style="text-align: center;">December 24, 2010 </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrTtswDIWHzeckLMq9HhF8CzKI_tYZ4Pboxga0-5oHGRkCjG_-Xtx4XDLTk2X1ddjBz2_W-f22aHn0NlOjJcNLziMSaf78Q7Rw-szxfNjAytlC0l0CxDbppbX7rYYEI5yMC__cdzBfKOy/s1600/OllieBobWiley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxrTtswDIWHzeckLMq9HhF8CzKI_tYZ4Pboxga0-5oHGRkCjG_-Xtx4XDLTk2X1ddjBz2_W-f22aHn0NlOjJcNLziMSaf78Q7Rw-szxfNjAytlC0l0CxDbppbX7rYYEI5yMC__cdzBfKOy/s1600/OllieBobWiley.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Osha Wiley </div><div style="text-align: center;">Hmm. Early 2011.</div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJretdgbzE25eqBbMIEUI31Ie4tnn5Rys_p4_ZP-y5SFQJRaVKuI0KXKviD-lV_W2muJ55Fgzb6vo4zOzifZGY4hiNirQZbeOn8cJ_RGeWMRPggK-t_Is7TZvyU-NCDGmcln9957u7H8Mp/s1600/merwaybaby.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJretdgbzE25eqBbMIEUI31Ie4tnn5Rys_p4_ZP-y5SFQJRaVKuI0KXKviD-lV_W2muJ55Fgzb6vo4zOzifZGY4hiNirQZbeOn8cJ_RGeWMRPggK-t_Is7TZvyU-NCDGmcln9957u7H8Mp/s1600/merwaybaby.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">June</div><div style="text-align: center;">April 3, 2011</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">And to my friends who have passed away in the last year, my thoughts are at home with your families and I miss you all a lot.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLa7BIdbCadFXtoP9y6mRaBAHGW31o2IbiXdCRro1M98qHwNh3JDNJaiuumDfSTP54oLpnyNpuBdAbHzvueuxghexe3T-89wC6sestWtOI82Eui7ZBESa0y34x6v7hHAejq_ta5t1ql1Nk/s1600/ZackDeagan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLa7BIdbCadFXtoP9y6mRaBAHGW31o2IbiXdCRro1M98qHwNh3JDNJaiuumDfSTP54oLpnyNpuBdAbHzvueuxghexe3T-89wC6sestWtOI82Eui7ZBESa0y34x6v7hHAejq_ta5t1ql1Nk/s320/ZackDeagan.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Zachary Season 1980-2010</div><div style="text-align: center;">Deagan Season 2005-2011</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">I cannot find a picture of Isaiah, but</div><div style="text-align: center;">I miss you pal.</div><div style="text-align: center;">1980-2010</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_TQpBo6ubKp2Adqk8aMchN8s5JXzttSyM5RL41bRAN2i4A4KO7C5N911zliU7wAb-MO4lOBhKF1QWY2jLCGMrF2-6D6NBKqDbFy3UTe0RaRJ7lUUP7flFUHL-0PGXwsJbN7evbhKFbnW/s1600/Dex.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO_TQpBo6ubKp2Adqk8aMchN8s5JXzttSyM5RL41bRAN2i4A4KO7C5N911zliU7wAb-MO4lOBhKF1QWY2jLCGMrF2-6D6NBKqDbFy3UTe0RaRJ7lUUP7flFUHL-0PGXwsJbN7evbhKFbnW/s320/Dex.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Rod Dexter 1969-2011</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Now there is only 15 more months til I get home. Could you all hold your horses and not do any more big things until I can come too?</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Thanks.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Courtney</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-55098523934989565262011-05-09T11:32:00.000-07:002011-05-09T16:10:10.237-07:00Día de MadreBecause I never post photos.<br />
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My mom and I, for Mother's Day, went out visiting family. Visiting family is always quite the trek. We took a combi for about forty minutes, to Mitapampa. Then we start walking. There are few paths and we trek for hours. We hauled along with us a couple of big cakes, a pot full of chicken and yucca, a bag with about 50 little breads, and a three liter of warm jello water. We stopped to give food to everyone we saw on the way, but the main goal was to get some cake out to the very elderly women in our family who live ever so far out.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6UWpduOuwE5BzMMkSL9eDi2vxVnCHG4uuUEBejsHaB2SmB1BviEeH2WHpkn9dgnRycJXq0WN4gjzj6Rk2TyjSCIJ9eX6bJthQjyQbYZ5bJKxroSsaXTJxXUmptfI5rXwajNMMY6cgIrF/s1600/DSC00411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6UWpduOuwE5BzMMkSL9eDi2vxVnCHG4uuUEBejsHaB2SmB1BviEeH2WHpkn9dgnRycJXq0WN4gjzj6Rk2TyjSCIJ9eX6bJthQjyQbYZ5bJKxroSsaXTJxXUmptfI5rXwajNMMY6cgIrF/s320/DSC00411.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My mom and a nice little old lady (Angelica from Huascaran's mother!) We had some chicken and yucca and cake together under a tree. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5Ht4L3EKexBn2WW4Us1ZY9XXnrYeoZu8KkqtHc94lxFkuaogxy0EQcZ2v9LaWJf4Rs95iIuEXFCQBZD2HOxBiE2aO1cCSOVZfRw6ljKijMajs-igaM17SKwbTgqDkz49dIdCu2KugF_Z/s1600/DSC00417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip5Ht4L3EKexBn2WW4Us1ZY9XXnrYeoZu8KkqtHc94lxFkuaogxy0EQcZ2v9LaWJf4Rs95iIuEXFCQBZD2HOxBiE2aO1cCSOVZfRw6ljKijMajs-igaM17SKwbTgqDkz49dIdCu2KugF_Z/s320/DSC00417.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is my great aunt. She is 98 years old and lives a good two hour hike from the nearest road. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcp-17xshCMXIN4xdG6dsf63kI4BXGd-kaKIHTcnfPiS8kX-cQMJ_XPy1s78gbBo-Qsg4e1dNwfcp9yuB4EQ7NGefJmvipcxTDKrEEEQNhHbfjPDm8EfQ3iGpTA9WAYoVr-wEaog8BP-X/s1600/DSC00431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjcp-17xshCMXIN4xdG6dsf63kI4BXGd-kaKIHTcnfPiS8kX-cQMJ_XPy1s78gbBo-Qsg4e1dNwfcp9yuB4EQ7NGefJmvipcxTDKrEEEQNhHbfjPDm8EfQ3iGpTA9WAYoVr-wEaog8BP-X/s320/DSC00431.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My uncle doing some plowing. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYwnWsyQhCplaPFOav3hVu9KHpAWbOJhddjweOSgtjZun9GNDVGuA0HgEljJAtuljihCqLnu1mHw5DxGQYkzEGRwn-OwAW-qph6_xJ-ZZ6Nyzpr09_5qOKvX5uWwlCFnhLwejQbt5N4D9/s1600/DSC00436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeYwnWsyQhCplaPFOav3hVu9KHpAWbOJhddjweOSgtjZun9GNDVGuA0HgEljJAtuljihCqLnu1mHw5DxGQYkzEGRwn-OwAW-qph6_xJ-ZZ6Nyzpr09_5qOKvX5uWwlCFnhLwejQbt5N4D9/s320/DSC00436.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My grandma's house. It's about 150 years old. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhngkaBW6XAF279fg18nVUygifZ0Pautv032pzyXmH75MnlJgkHZQetb4HfpP2ZldzHMcqlUbqnDip4ReiZY-NO26_W6QxFFnlwG27sl-avSA7P1S2KFGvJkB2Wa1VClAn_GgQvAlNcy_qe/s1600/DSC00439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhngkaBW6XAF279fg18nVUygifZ0Pautv032pzyXmH75MnlJgkHZQetb4HfpP2ZldzHMcqlUbqnDip4ReiZY-NO26_W6QxFFnlwG27sl-avSA7P1S2KFGvJkB2Wa1VClAn_GgQvAlNcy_qe/s320/DSC00439.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">We did some quinoa harvesting. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXWbnNqs1IcqCZa1W90gS7rod_fG9amfaOX-dFN5ybfkXDmBxxQjPGSxOXUBEnxVN_LJ6-uxttl7Z1xJEOf_QHKsA0zygCuX_hu8O_lpLjvmN0OeajE7MNHrfaY7znWIKff1TGmuoMyP4/s1600/DSC00448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHXWbnNqs1IcqCZa1W90gS7rod_fG9amfaOX-dFN5ybfkXDmBxxQjPGSxOXUBEnxVN_LJ6-uxttl7Z1xJEOf_QHKsA0zygCuX_hu8O_lpLjvmN0OeajE7MNHrfaY7znWIKff1TGmuoMyP4/s320/DSC00448.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, my mom made lots of jokes about the quinoa being phallic. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhwCFAMD2RGdbze-1GdEn10Z2pIK2mhLXNKPl1l3zxteaiI1h2a_pG_R6N7_XkAKUOy0-PTjgXZjv_JsVNWa8-mee4m3ikFGiju0NmGsUdnaflBYpZ7hyfUSoO6f0WIms-5zGccOf5VSs/s1600/DSC00452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEhwCFAMD2RGdbze-1GdEn10Z2pIK2mhLXNKPl1l3zxteaiI1h2a_pG_R6N7_XkAKUOy0-PTjgXZjv_JsVNWa8-mee4m3ikFGiju0NmGsUdnaflBYpZ7hyfUSoO6f0WIms-5zGccOf5VSs/s320/DSC00452.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My uncle and aunt and cousin had us in for lunch. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgca4vF3bBkFQbizs18tIDpUXDNbbT6JW_vi62tr1eElRs_TvnXyUUMmo7jMS_fLzbI-pgM04133URdjNHiqOQSEY-Y-JHIipZwGmyd3y2ES1TFo8_P_uHlu1VIMaxSzEvNY89AWIOiuJ1_/s1600/DSC00456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgca4vF3bBkFQbizs18tIDpUXDNbbT6JW_vi62tr1eElRs_TvnXyUUMmo7jMS_fLzbI-pgM04133URdjNHiqOQSEY-Y-JHIipZwGmyd3y2ES1TFo8_P_uHlu1VIMaxSzEvNY89AWIOiuJ1_/s320/DSC00456.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">The ladies and I - our Mother's Day photo shoot. I am a giant.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq-G1fDuW-Oy9d6jvjjwmqZfswWbEiXoBZe4JQbPs93O08om3uxzLKR-aAx4EDXNS7GXLZ2m7C1xWeq6MyBwinh1Xc9cqQnIuutxwA_iewF6DxN7xDgqJI0YDXqFBS1Oxy7zdMGxBJ2I2/s1600/DSC00458.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqq-G1fDuW-Oy9d6jvjjwmqZfswWbEiXoBZe4JQbPs93O08om3uxzLKR-aAx4EDXNS7GXLZ2m7C1xWeq6MyBwinh1Xc9cqQnIuutxwA_iewF6DxN7xDgqJI0YDXqFBS1Oxy7zdMGxBJ2I2/s320/DSC00458.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">My mom got pretty style-y about five hours into our hike.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTnDXCH7Z4uDlm3DaSDBCdcuHOjAW8uIFRRf6_xp8U9jwFAOws39H1VWUnoXrVXoW7qarnFgCQ9wYNfsfPzjRbrq7x9qtD-i9_fDdDkZX23UaCrI7dQOt92dnqFe1s3iP0LynfN7rhEx6/s1600/DSC00465.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTnDXCH7Z4uDlm3DaSDBCdcuHOjAW8uIFRRf6_xp8U9jwFAOws39H1VWUnoXrVXoW7qarnFgCQ9wYNfsfPzjRbrq7x9qtD-i9_fDdDkZX23UaCrI7dQOt92dnqFe1s3iP0LynfN7rhEx6/s320/DSC00465.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Finally back to the road. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11mX-m6zr5LD8tLpPUUeypZoPrZcjDQeAPy14njSOb4w6b7YBK19xAO13_TC0JWGTNyCjt0_qacxfU46TDx4BHAqWMoA8dg7eR8Zaev3DjJ5CPgv-SYrlfH31v3Jpcfs9f383Dh7MBgSM/s1600/DSC00467.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh11mX-m6zr5LD8tLpPUUeypZoPrZcjDQeAPy14njSOb4w6b7YBK19xAO13_TC0JWGTNyCjt0_qacxfU46TDx4BHAqWMoA8dg7eR8Zaev3DjJ5CPgv-SYrlfH31v3Jpcfs9f383Dh7MBgSM/s320/DSC00467.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Forty minutes later we miraculously find a mototaxi. He was off to pick up some other people but my mom says she'll give him fifty centimos more to take us instead. Nice one, Mom.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The rain here stopped just over a week ago and dry season hit with a vengeance. We had been out on this hike a few times before, but on Mother's Day is was GRUELING. It was super hot out, we hiked for a good six hours, and the BUGS. There are never bugs in my site, it's too cold, so I am not in the habit of wearing bug spray.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I now have about 80 bug bites from mid-calf down. Every centimeter. Ugh. I am glad dry season is only a few months here - you can bet that I will be thoroughly coated in bug spray between now and September.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Events of late:</div><ul><li>One of my banks ws planning a fundraiser the other day and they decided that they would have a raffle. They decided they should raffle off their gringa. They thought it was brilliant and were crushed when I had to shoot them down on pimping me out. We switched to having a picaronada and I was the only one there who could rattle off the picaron recipe. Weird.</li>
<li>At bank meetings, I am still shocked every time just to see them all arriving at the correct time. Banks are amazing.</li>
<li>Easter weekend: Friday a guy climbed the hill in my town dragging a cross with some other guys pretending to whip him. At the top they strung him up. Saturday everyone wore all black and people were crying in the streets, mourning the death of Christ. Sunday - party, of course.</li>
<li>I made ravioli from scratch the other day, blowing my mom's mind. It was a big hit, but of course my mom insisted we fry it all instead of boil it. It was of course delicious, if extraordinarily unhealthy.</li>
</ul>That's all for now - I have more but I am late for lunch! Ciao!Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-21708688347222414202011-04-30T08:42:00.000-07:002011-04-30T08:42:55.124-07:00Fideo con Albahaca, Ajo, y QuesoThunder hits pretty reliably right as we sit down to lunch. I can tell time by weather pretty well here these days. If it's sunny, the sun has risen within the last couple of hours. If it's cool and cloudy and drizzling, the sun is about to set. If the streets are flooded and there is an absolute torrential, blinding, mind-bending downpour it's about 3:30 and I am canceling my classes, again. The night are clear and cold.<br />
<br />
My classes are so smooth now that I find I need more projects again for the first time in a few months. Every afternoon, I teach class from 3:30 to 6, but all the class plans are well-developed, all the worksheets are made and printed and filed and easy to find, and I am comfortable enough that I can just walk in, put on the powerpoint, joke around, take questions, and get through the day. Over 60 kids have cycled through my courses now, even with the constant cancellations (<i>two</i> <i>weeks</i> for Easter, really?)<br />
<br />
So, I decided it's time to really start fighting for that library project and it's time to hit the streets finding more groups to form into community banks. The library project has been oh-so sluggish. I have everything prepared. People at the Muni are calling it my “awesome project.” I have resources listed and grant applications ready to go, I am just having trouble with my committee. Finally got it all together just the other day – have names of the enthusiastically interested and a good solid workplan that people are getting on board with. Thing is, I don't want to align myself with the wrong crew again, so I may need to back off a little. Finally getting used to the scandalous nature of this country. I spent most of my time before working with the Gerente, or City Manager, who absconded with a bunch of bags of cement a few weeks back. Had to then work my way into new contacts, avoiding my previous affiliation with the now-detested figure of the cement-thief. And now the head of the library committee is the wife of the mayor. Once burned and I am holding back on further meetings while I wait to find out if they are actually going to impeach him...<br />
<br />
My most-successful-bank has it's three-month meeting tomorrow. All is going so smoothly. Tomorrow I will tell them they are all grown up and graduated from needing me at all. This means it's time to really move on and bring in the half-formed nonsense banks scattered around and to follow up with the inquiries I have received from other potential start-ups. The bank project is so simple and effective. Everyone loves Micro-Finance. I am setting a public goal right now of having, within 3 more moths, 3 more functional banks with a total of at least 60 members. I think it's possible. Just gotta step up my game.<br />
<br />
I spent all last week in Lima. Seem to have busted something in my back. Which is strange because it just hurts in my leg. I guess I have a pinched nerve. They put me on a TON of drugs for awhile – like muscle relaxers and pain killers three times a day. I am off those now and the pain is reduced substantially, but still there. So we are gonna do a little physical therapy. With how much the drugs helped, I think the physical therapy should do the trick. So, that'll mean quite a few trips to either Chiclayo or hopefully Chota. I don't like leaving site that much, but if I can just get this fixed, I will be pretty happy. I think it probably came from falling in holes. There are holes in the sidewalks everywhere in Peru – and I mean holes a few feet deep and just big enough for your foot to pass through. I fall in them a lot; I think spend too much time looking up. I am fortunate to have not broken a leg yet, and I plan to stop falling in holes now.<br />
<br />
I have funny conversations a lot here. People are always asking me, about everything, “Do they have this in the US?” Yes, we have tomatoes. Yes, we have rice. No, we don't have lucuma. There is always complete surprise at the Yes answers and a knowing smugness at the No answers. My favorite though was the other day when someone asked me if I had any pizza while I was in Lima. I said, of course and they followed with the standard, “Is there pizza in the US?” I was a little surprised at this one and was like “Yes, of course, we eat a lot of pizza!” The woman was really shocked. “You have pizza there?!? Well, it's so much better in Peru, right?” I gave my standard lie and told her it was and she walked away happy. The pizza here is a pathetic excuse for pizza. Extraordinarily pathetic and doesn't quench even a tad of your craving for pizza.<br />
<br />
Another fun part of conversation is just what is appropriate to say. When you need your waiter or waitress you just yell - “Joven!” if they're young, “Chino!” if they're Asian, or “Gorda!” or “Flaca!” pretty much the rest of the time, though the differentiation between fat and skinny is not always obvious and I get called both daily. I avoid the racial terms – I don't care if it's considered simply another identifying feature here, I'm not participating. Another one - if I pull out my laptop in public, I have to expect at least 10 people just to walk up to me and ask me how much it cost. Or anything else I own. How much did that cost? Can I have it? Can you get more from the US to sell here? WHY DIDN'T YOU BRING A BUNCH OF STUFF WITH YOU TO SELL? People are really upset about that sometimes. It's very strange.<br />
<br />
Besides the obvious ones, food and family, the thing I realized quite awhile ago that I miss most is anonymity. I mean, I can't wander around Eugene all day without running into people I know. I don't mean that kind of anonymity; I don't mean being a stranger. I mean the more basic anonymity – that the people who don't know me, also don't notice me. That strangers have no interest in me and that people can't just find me anywhere in town just by asking where the white girl is to anyone on the street. I want people to stop asking me questions some days.<br />
<br />
Then again, I am sure that when I get home, I will miss some of that.Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-35350759709587148072011-04-04T06:53:00.000-07:002011-04-04T06:53:02.198-07:00Quiero Descansar<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am so tired. Really tired, right now. But it's time to get this done. Also, they are setting up a Yunza outside, so I know sleep is about to be taken off the table <i>(Will the Yunzas never end? Are there such a thing as better earplugs?)</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> A whole lot has been going on, as well.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Life is so good. I know I am parroting myself here, but what a cool job. It's time for the 13ers to decide whether or not they are staying a third year and it's funny to watch. There is a vast range of reactions. I know a large handful that are just saying, “I am going home immediately on the first day allowed.” There are a chunk almost as large saying, “Well, this is home. Why would I want to go to the States and get a way less cool job?” And then there are the variety pack, those signing on for just a few more months, and those who really haven't decided. I even had a conversation with a Volunteer I know currently in the middle of his fourth year. I asked, “Well, aren't you cut off soon? No one is allowed to sign up for a fifth year...” (Yes, Peace Corps has term limits, for staff too.) He replied, “But I can extend my fourth year.” Whatever kind of awesome bureaucratic loophole that is. If I had to pick right now, I wouldn't go anywhere. This is the life. But don't freak out yet, Mom, I swore I would come home after just two and I will.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">TEACHING IS HARD. I have always had a lot of respect for teachers, but never like this. I don't know what I am doing! Teaching is crazy. Teaching in the wrong language is crazier. Doing it full time... I just got home from a Clausura – where I graduated 26 of my 11 year olds, with certificates, soda pop, and saltines. They completed their 2 week course on Planning Your Future (how strange is that?) The course was twice a week for two weeks. Two of the other days a week, I have my older kids, 15 and 16, for Youth Entrepreneurship. These classes are all two hours in the afternoon. Planning a two hour class takes a LONG time. Planning it well, takes practice. Turns out half the time that I can't get nearly the amount done that I thought and the other half that we are going to end up outside playing icebreakers and team building games because I didn't plan enough. Turns out I SUCK at discipline. Who wants to be that guy? I don't even want to talk about my morning classes teaching English to 7 year olds...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Really, though, we are all having fun and the learning curve is steep. I start this week with the next group of over two dozen 11 year olds. Each two week period I will move on to the next, until the kids in town have ideas beyond “tienda-owner” or “mototaxi-driver.” The older kids course is a 6 week session that I am currently planning on just doing twice in a row. These kids volunteer for this, while the younger ones are required to attend my short course. After my two six-week courses, I get to form a team of my best students to create a business plan for a national youth business plan competition. I plan on us winning. The kids can win the funding to actually start their business plan. Since I have seemingly been assigned to be the Human-Form Economic Stimulus Package for this community, I think I am gonna try and own this project. Win. Banks are still going well. Need to update my numbers on that tomorrow...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have been out of town for a week again. Yet another Peace Corps training in Lima. I feel like they drag us out for these things sooo often. No more until I go in for the business plan competition in August however. So I get to hunker down for awhile. And tomorrow, I have more things to do than humanly possible – between the library project, the 2 business courses, the community banks, and the English courses, I am a nutcase. The funny thing is, it's not even that many hours, especially considering some jobs I have happily worked in the past. I don't know why it feels busier. Probably a mix of language barrier issues (which I am convinced never go away,) cultural frustration issues (as I am also convinced the norms of Peru were designed to make me crazy,) and the fact that <i>everything</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> is such a rollercoaster ride. In fact, speaking of rollercoasters, my mother has been back and cooking me her absolutely wonderful but almost pure starch food for just a month now and I am seeing that I already noticeably need to get back to my workout routine. Suck.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The big awesomeness: the library project. All I can say so far is that I have seen extreme enthusiasm and a mention of possible available community funds. I am having a big meeting about it tomorrow or the next day, so I will update very soon! I have looked deeply into grant resources, pitched the idea around town, and recruited some enthusiastic and brilliant young team members. Here we go, Children's Library-Tutoring-Center-Science-Museum! This is going to be awesome. I could obviously use help with a name.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Any suggestions?</span></div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-55022959352918182492011-03-13T09:41:00.000-07:002011-03-13T13:04:11.140-07:00¡Lo Máximo!<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am not even sure where to start with blogging right now, but it seems I had best do it today, before even more accumulates in the fields of the strange and the awesome.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I spent the last two and a half months without my family. At first, this was great, but the charm eventually wore off – my Spanish wasn't improving and my nights and weekends were excruciatingly boring. They finally got back this last weekend and life became almost immediately amazing again. I had only spent a few weeks with them before they left and they are even more fantastic than I remember. My 13 year old brother and are having a brilliant time playing Uno and wandering the town together and me and my mom cook epically. She is talking about the three of us taking a trip to Macchu Picchu together late in the summer.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Also, I promised her I would announce to every older single male I know in the States that she is single and an amazing cook if, ya know, you need a wife. So – done there.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It's been Carnaval season. Yunzas. There is a party called a Yunza almost every night in my town, since the beginning of February. Since Carnaval peaked last weekend and Lent began, I thought the Yunzas would stop but, no, I went two of the three that were going last night. Apparently they will continue through March as well. A Yunza – It's kind of like a maypole, a Christmas tree, and a piñata combined. Every street has a Yunza and many have more than one throughout Yunza-time. What they do is they cut down a really tall tree – a deciduous tree without leaves, where the branches start very high up. The pick axe a hole in the middle of the street and set the tree up in it. Before the launch it up there, they fill the branches with presents. Weird things – blankets and t-shirts. Packages of cookies and bottles of beer. Then they drink and dance around the tree all night long, until nine or ten the next morning. They drink HARD and they dance HARD. In the morning, the drunken survivors take turns chopping at the tree with a machete til they chop it down. When it falls, everyone dives into the branches snatching at the gifts. The trick here is, whoever actually knocks the thing down, has to fund next year's Yunza. This is almost half my monthly stipend – WAY out of my budget. These are spendy parties. And man do they love to hand me that machete and, after a full night of drinking and dancing, man do I want to chop that thing down. I have shown incredible restraint.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I couldn't make this shit up. But to get to the even crazier part...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I spent the height of Carnaval in Cajamarca City. Caja City is considered the capital of Carnaval in Perú. Volunteers came in from all over the country for the weekend. I am a local department volunteer so I fortunately didn't even have to take vacation – just a weekend in my capital! But in the language here, you don't GO to Carnaval – you PLAY Carnaval. ¿Vas a jugar carnavales? I had no idea what to expect, I just knew that it involved paint fights and that I needed to bring clothes or a costume that I didn't mind destroying. It was a hundred times more wild than I expected. The paint fight part of it was HUGE. Small armies were roaming the streets with buckets, water balloons, and knock off supersoakers full of paint in wildly various colors. Armies were organized by barrio. Except us. We were the straight up Gringo Army and everyone sure did love to soak us with paint. These armies eventually congregated into a march at least a few miles long – thousands upon thousands. Everyone was drinking, banging on their buckets, and SINGING at the top of their lungs. I think the Carnaval song will be stuck in the back of my skull for a long, long time. It was mostly just, ¡JUGAMOS CARNAVALES! ¡LOS LOCOS CARNAVALES!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At night the plaza filled up with these thousands upon thousands. Again, all standing in groups of 10-20 and still singing at the tops of their lungs and drinking. But they all have drums and trumpets and everything else in the plaza at night. It's a noise like I'd never heard. Fantastic. It was impossible to get back to the hotel before dawn each night and bars and clubs were a hundred percent unnecessary. During the days, there were parades with the most beautiful and fantastical costumes I have EVER seen. Crazy stuff. I have no words.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">None of the above words even some close to justifying the things I have seen and participated in over the last couple of months. Also, I absolutely love my life. Cool job, I've got.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A few random things:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- The other day I was eating lunch and randomly heard a twenty minute radio news story about myself.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- The 13ers Close-of-Service is coming in a few months and I am already sad. There is no way the 17ers will replace them effectively.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- This means that I am getting a chunk into my service. Time goes so fast I don't even know how I feel about where I am at right now. Things are going great – I will leave it at that.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I went to an English Teaching course in Lima with a friend from site who is an English Profesor at the Institute here, so him and I will be working on some projects to teach teachers some new skills</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I went to an awesome Superbowl party last month in Chiclayo. Go Packers.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I have one fully functioning Community Bank with 20 members and another two that are still in the initial stages. About 70 adult members. It's a pretty great project. The one group calls me “La Gringa Mágica and insist that I can do things like heal a broken bone by putting my hands on it. I tell them that yeah, I can, but not today.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I am picking up some Peruvian sign language. There are 4 or 5 deaf people that live on my block and a couple are good friends of the family. Super different than ASL. Involves full body hilarity and running around the room. No alphabet – but you can write things out on your forearm. It will be a one hundred percent useless skill in about 18 months.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- Tomorrow my courses start at the Colegio. Vocational Orientation for all the first year students, Tuesdays and Thursdays, 4-6pm and Youth Entrepenuership for the fourth and fifth year students, Mondays and Wednesdays, 4-6pm. This'll keep me a bit busy. I am keeping on with my one English class with my seven year olds on Thursday mornings.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I have moved into the initial stages of a library project, which will also be part children's science museum and writing tutoring center. And we are going to build that damn telescope to keep there. This may be overly ambitious and I am going to recruit help from Eugene when I am ready.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">- I had a million other things but I don't remember them now.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I stole pictures from others as I never take any.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A Yunza photo, for reference, stolen from Ashley: </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/190487_10100504875008283_5223530_67580925_2158207_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/190487_10100504875008283_5223530_67580925_2158207_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">One parade pic, also yoinked from Ash:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/188969_10100504877877533_5223530_67580970_201888_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a1.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/188969_10100504877877533_5223530_67580970_201888_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The rest are Carnaval paint fight photos stolen from Mario. We marched for HOURS. Only he and Biz had waterproof cameras:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christie got really sunburnt.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/199471_543834918445_14400303_31925367_6977269_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/199471_543834918445_14400303_31925367_6977269_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/196779_543835781715_14400303_31925396_6062956_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/196779_543835781715_14400303_31925396_6062956_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/200767_543834529225_14400303_31925354_2945874_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a4.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/200767_543834529225_14400303_31925354_2945874_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's me!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/197743_543834434415_14400303_31925350_7945715_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/197743_543834434415_14400303_31925350_7945715_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never ending.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/196979_543835417445_14400303_31925386_8182746_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc6/196979_543835417445_14400303_31925386_8182746_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/198131_543835177925_14400303_31925378_5014786_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://a3.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/198131_543835177925_14400303_31925378_5014786_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, Mario and Tim. I love this guys. All the way from Arequipa.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Well, that is all for now. Chau.</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-89848111192187314542011-02-01T06:32:00.000-08:002011-02-01T06:35:16.677-08:00Aprovechando y Confianzura<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In this world, sometimes you get guts in your hair. Every time I go and buy meat, my butcher likes to come out and hug me and pet my hair. Nobody here thinks twice about blood and raw meat chunks getting all over things. Her hands are covered in it. She deals with my change like this too – digs around in her apron pocket, just dripping gore, counting coins and crinkled, damp bills. She cuts my chunks of meat literally off of a whole cow that is hanging upside down on hooks behind her. I can never figure out how to take the change from her. I take it with my finger tips; I try not to cringe too much; I smile; I spend it within the next minute, even if there is nothing else that I need.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It's moments like this that make me stop trying to pinpoint what gets me sick. I am a little bit sick at least once a week. I think most of us are. This country is simply poisonous to us. I have to assume that all money has been through this treatment a million times, that every one of the hundred hands I shake every day, and by proxy the cheeks I kiss every ten minutes, are covered in vicious and uncaring little microbes, planning my next tiny bathroom apocalypse. I know that every time I unconsciously touch my own face, I throw miniature Molotov cocktails into my immune system. My poor white blood cells are simply exhausted.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A little over a week ago, I got as sick as I have been, maybe ever. I did find a likely culprit, but there are obviously no guarantees. It was an amazing burger – the best I have had in Peru. After that, I had nothing but half a box of Gato Negro and one roasted marshmallow. When I woke up at 2am, puking my guts out, my first thought was, “No way did I drink enough wine to make me sick.” I was probably another hour, another violent purging and burning of my esophagus, and about 4 trips to the toilet later that I realized I was actually sick. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I was up all night, miserable, and quickly losing all bodily fluids. I was at a training with a bunch of other volunteers, so I was fortunately at a hotel, and within shouting distance of Doc Jorge, our nationwide Cipro dealer and regular savior of volunteers. I stumbled out of my room, gross and haggard and in my pj's, at first light. I found a couple of volunteers but no one knew what room the Doc was in. I left them a message to send him to my room at first sight and went and curled back up on my bathroom floor.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When Doc Jorge arrived with my friend Tim in tow, who looking pretty awful himself, I immediately figured it was the burgers. Tim and I had eaten dinner together the night before. Jorge immediately put some Cipro in me and sat and waited. That Cipro, along with all of the water I had been trying to replenish myself with, promptly came back up.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This was most of the day for me. A very long day. Jorge sat with me for most all of it. I got ridiculous in my thinking, angry and sad with myself every time I couldn't keep down my medicine, and really just pathetic and whiny all around. I remember deciding we were all crazy and trying to explain it to someone – to join Peace Corps: to go to a place that is poison in world-form, that seems to be trying to kill us – is this an overblown sense of altruism that has even surpassed our millenia-old instinct for self-preservation? I decided at one point that Ineeded a psychiatrist more than I needed Cipro. I was wrong, I definitely just needed the Cipro.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eventually, with the help of something to take down my fever and something to stop my stomach from cramping up, I was able to get the much needed antibiotics to stay in – a true drug cocktail. By mid-afternoon, I was in the process of rehydrating. I was ever so weak feeling, not able to do more than take the tiniest of sips for fear it would all come back up, but finally happy to be able to lay on the floor and not have to get up to go to the bathroom any more.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">That night, I got in three or maybe even four bites of dinner and crashed hard. The next day I ate my entire breakfast, still pretty shaky, but by midday I was ravenous. I spent a bus ride drinking about a gallon of water. I got off the bus and proceeded to eat for the entire afternoon – probably four meals in four hours. By nightfall I was one hundred percent and having fun with the volunteers in the next department over.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It's truly a roller coaster ride.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Side note: In Spanish, asistir is “to attend,” and atender is “to assist.” Most. Annoying. Thing. Ever.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-26520850219712390782011-01-24T09:17:00.000-08:002011-01-24T09:21:10.100-08:00Do you see what I just did there?<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I don't remember what I last blogged about, but I am on a bus, not tired, sin dramamine, and figure this is as good a time to write as any. Bus rides are spectacular. In my part of Peru, our bus rides are super atrocious in many ways – our buses are old, rusty, falling apart clunkers. Even if you sit all the way back in your seat, your knees are painfully shoved into the seat in front of you. The bus drivers are often drunk. I am five hours from the nearest paved road, so it's VERY bumpy. The roads up here are silly levels of windy. At least every fifth person on the bus is throwing up into a plastic bag. They play the same screechy wayno music at top volume the whole way. It's too hot, or else it's too cold. The person in the next seat inevitably thinks that open windows make you sick, or some other unlucky thing, and you have to close it. It constantly looks like you are definitely about to plunge about a half mile down the steep mountainsides. On this trip, my window has been hit three times by water balloons thrown by random little kids in the middle of nowhere (because of Canivale coming) and one of the times, my window was open, so now I am wet. Actually, putting it all together like this, maybe the open window theory has something to it... </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On the other hand, it's on these bus rides, when you are too nauseous to do anything but look out the window that you are like, HOLY CRAP I LIVE IN THE NORTHERN PERUVIAN ANDES. It is spectacularly beautiful. I pay some price for being way further in the middle of nowhere than most volunteers, but I get the better bonus. Up in these mountains, everything is so green and lush and dramatically gorgeous. And if I am on this bus at night, there are more stars than anyone would ever possibly believe. I also get to be two steps further into the experience of cultural strangeness. The further out you go, the less “normal” everything gets. Even my Peruvian friends from the coast make fun of how out there the mountain folk are. I love it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Another part of living so far out is that I get to be a free agent as far as my capital city goes. All volunteers have a capital city, depending on your department. The volunteers in La Libertad hang out in Trujillo; those in Lamabyeque hang out in Chiclayo; in Ancash, it's Huaraz; I think in Arequipa they hang out in Arequipa City and in Chivay too. Santa Cruz is in the department of Cajamarca, so really my capital city should be Cajamarca City, or Caja City as I like to call it (bad Peruvian slang joke?) Thing is, out where I am, I am called a “Chota-area Volunteer.” We are the forgotten bunch, tossed off the map. Chota is a town of maybe 30,000, about 6 hours north of Cajamarca City. It's little, but it's ours. There are a dozen of us or so situated anywhere from 20 minutes to 4 hours out of Chota, in all directions. So that is kind of our capital city. We have our own separate meetings there, without the rest of the Cajamarca group – the Southern Caja team.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Thing is, Chota can't fairly be counted as a capital city. When a volunteer anywhere heads in, they get paved roads, real variety of shopping and activities, all kinds of familiar things. You can't even rightly get mail in Chota, because there is no customs office – you always end up having to run into the bigger cities anyways. Really there is nothing in Chota. So, I am four hours from Chota. I am five hours from Chiclayo. Takes me ten to get to Caja City. Hell, I can even randomly get to Trujillo in less time than it takes me to get to Caja. So, I go where I want – pretty much just rotating between Chota and Chiclayo, heading down to Caja only for large events.. It's nice. I am getting to know a lot of different crews of volunteers. I am getting to hear a lot of stories about a lot of places. Yet another bonus of my extreme middle-of-nowhere-ness.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You know that the moon is upside down here? You cup it in your left hand when it's waxing, your right when waning. Confused the hell out of me for the longest time. I was seriously considering building myself a model of the universe to try and figure out why this ones. Randomly hit me one day – it was just too simple to see up close. I AM STANDING UPSIDE DOWN. Ha. I think I am going to build that model of the universe anyways. Maybe with the kids I am building the telescope with. Also, part of the upside down here – totally summer right now... Silly Southern Hemisphere.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Have I mentioned that I have been training my town in everything American and Awesome? So far, I have got people coming up to me and yelling “Top Gun!” and top gun high fiving me. Also, everyone in Santa Cruz is a Ducks fan – we had a party at a restaurant to watch the BCS Championship game. I didn't even try to explain the rules, but everyone eventually figured out when to get excited and were bitterly disappointed when we lost. I am thinking of really organizing up a Superbowl party at that same restaurant – with wings and beer and whatever. Get the whole town to come. So fun.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am on my way back home right now. I have been at a week of In Service Training in Huanchaco, this touristy little beach place. It was super fun to get to see everyone from training again for a week. Also, we got some absolutely awesome trainings and I hope to be jumping into some more good projects this week. And Chris Heather taught us all how to think. So that was friggin' key. Don't know what we would do without that guy. By the way, this isn't sarcasm. This guy is a rockstar.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am starting a series of children's picture books about my experience as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I need some good graphic manipulation software. So far, I've got “Where's Jorge?,” “The Little Duck Who Died,” and a whole series of “[Insert name here] and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Charla.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ok, gaining altitude and windiness now. Keep typing and I am gonna barf. Así, ciao.</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-66656128508794423112011-01-10T13:25:00.000-08:002011-01-25T08:24:26.946-08:00GO DUCKS<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">My world is chaotic. In pretty much every part of my life here of my life here, things are going as well as humanly possible. In so many ways, my site is more than I could have hoped for. I may be the luckiest volunteer in Perú. Life's great. </span><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">On the amazing front lines, OH MY GOSH did I strike gold with the new Municipalidad. Their first day was last Monday and I went in to meet them on Tuesday. The mayor seemed a little confused about my role (aren't we all?) but a guy sitting behind him, the gerente, stepped forward enthusiastically and started clarifying. Wait, you're here to do all sorts of projects to better the community? For free? And you have ideas? Great. He told the mayor to give me the next office over.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">So now I am set up. I have a space to work and people enthusiastic to work with me. Getting in right at the beginning like this, they are taking project suggestions from me. I am going in and saying here's something I want to work on. Then I go back to my office and a little while later, someone has been called in who is good for that project and they are sent in to meet with me. I am giving assignments to City Councilors and shit. I am getting whatever support I need. Today, they are looking over my Community Diagnostic for me. It's amazing.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Even better than that, the gerente and his partner are brilliant, so far not corrupt, and actually want to get a lot of good work done. I have walked into his office in the past week with vague ideas and we have awesome brainstorm-y conversations to figure out what we can do with them. I feel like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. But in the meantime, I have collected a ton of new socios in the past week. I am almost overwhelmed. I am the shadow government. Ha!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">My friendships here are spectacular and a half as well. Most of us that are in the sierra don't get to get really good friends at site. We just come from a completely different world than the campo people and there isn't that much to talk about. You get a bunch of friends, but I mean real friends, like friends you would have back home. I have found that. One guy in particular, a Peruvian from the city who is a bit lost out here as well, and all of his friends that I am getting to know, who are smart and mellow and kind.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Tonight, these lovely friends have found me a place to watch the BCS National Championship tonight! We are having a little football party! I am absurdly excited for this. I sat up last night making green and gold bracelets for everyone. Actually, that may have been taking it a bit too far, but I had been planning to learn to make those things yesterday, so it just sort of happened on its own. Go Ducks!</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">I suck at making bracelet these things. They are seriously ugly. I am gonna practice a little more. I am gonna use this to teach my little sombra. There is a little dude that follows me around everywhere, maybe 7 years old, and I just call him “Sombra,” or shadow. He is a sweet kid but possibly one of the poorest and hungriest I have around. When I get too bored, I can always go sit on the church steps or in the bakery and my sombra will find me in a matter of minutes. I am gonna teach him to make bracelets and show him how to save up for more string. He can sell these in the market, or to the other little ones. Right now, he spends his evening walking around scrounging for scraps and begging for change. I think this will be a little better, and hopefully my first new little entrepreneur in the Peace Corps. I like the Sombra.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">I don't really think I have anything else to say. We have our Early In-Service Training (IST) starting on Sunday in Trujillo. I am gonna head there via Cajamarca to see some good friends and have some Peace Corps style Olympic events called the Cajalympics. Won't say much about that here – but it should be a blast. And me and Biz are representing Israel (I'm Jewish and he is Palestinian.) Should be thoroughly inappropriate.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">IST is on community banks, which I initially thought sounded like the most boring thing they could possibly make us learn to build. But then my Muni gave me a pretty awesome socio for it. He has ideas and plans and is excited as hell to come to Trujillo with me. Today, he even brought me some more people to my office who want to help. We haven't even had the training yet. Dude is gung-ho.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">I will be there for a week, coming back via the Chiclayo route (faster and holds my mail) the next weekend, on the 21</span><sup><span lang="en-US">st</span></sup><span lang="en-US"> or 22</span><sup><span lang="en-US">nd</span></sup><span lang="en-US">. When I come back, I plan to be in full swing with a lot of my new project ideas and it will also be time to start planning the presentation of my Diagnostic to my community. When am I going to stop finding this job intimidating?</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">I fell in the mud today. There was no electricity and a lot of cows. My town has been flooded the last couple of days. I think it will spend much of the next couple of months this way. I like all of these things.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span lang="en-US">Courtney </span></div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-66694455739904903492010-12-24T10:00:00.000-08:002010-12-24T10:13:20.446-08:00Esperando a Papá Noel<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Christmas time is so different here. It pretty much just started two days ago. People finally threw up lights on a few buildings, trees in a couple of windows, and started singing Christmas songs left and right. Also, hot chocolate. So much hot chocolate. A Christmas party here is called a “Chocolatada” and consists of barrels of hot chocolate and mountains of these fruitcake-like desserts called Panetón. I am drinking hot chocolate as I write this. The best hot chocolate on earth - made with fresh cacao from the jungle. Happy Christmas Eve. It's a hot one out today.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have been told that phones won't work well right around now, due to overload, and that international is practically impossible. They say even Skype will be pretty unreliable. So I write my blog to say hi and happy holidays and I miss you and everything else.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have been having a pretty fantastic time. I got a deck of Uno cards in our volunteer White Elephant gift exchange in Chota last weekend and now my family is thoroughly addicted. Also, we have really taken up cooking together – the really do like stew, though they think it is INSANE to ever leave skins on potatoes, and chocolate chip cookies are a hit, even if there was no butter in the market that day and the margarine made them melt everywhere. So we are spending a ton of time together, which is great.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am learning jerga (slang) now and also a lot of Peruvian jokes. And seriously, the jokes here are worse than the ones my father tells at home. I think I have finally crossed a line on my Spanish and am able to speak pretty easily with most people. I am getting more friends quickly now.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jose: How do you say frijol? </div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Me: Bean.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jose: How do you call a bean with a capa?</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Me: With a cape?</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jose: Yeah.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Me: A superbean?</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jose: (Laughing HYSTERICALLY) How did you know that???</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am still not sure what happened in that conversation. I think it was a joke that somehow crossed the space-time-translation barrier.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Pretty much all of my plans for summer classes got canceled, so for a minute there I had absolutely nothing to do for the next three months. When they kept telling me that almost everyone moves to Chiclayo for the rainy season, they meant it. My town is about to go ghost town for a while. Makes it hard to teach kids when they are just not here... And even my artisans don't work for the break season. Just no one does. So I am using the fantastic old Peace Corps fallback of clubs. People do like clubs and I can always use the clubs to get things done. Hiking club, running club, and youth business club first. And it would be great if anyone wanted to send me a hackysack, Or three. Then I could combine hackysack and juggling. That would be a huge hit.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have one big idea, largely dependent on the coolness levels of the new mayor who starts January first. I have my hopes high for an awesome relationship with the new Municipalidad team, with full expectation for a crushing. But I am developing proposals of community-wide projects we can work on together. Fingers crossed. Then, I really hit a lucky break when my best friend, Jose, who is a one of the big shot docs around here, was approached by a woman looking to start a non-profit and wanting him to be the head doc. He – it turns out – knows a local gringa with a degree in Non-Profit Management, an extreme surplus of time, and who will work for FREE! So, hopefully, I will be helping these nice people write business plans and set up an ONG here in Santa Cruz. Finally, something that sounds interesting and fun, with cool people, that also covers the Peace Corps strange desire to have <i><span style="font-weight: normal;">me </span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">work in business. I am just not a business-y person. But I am most definitely a non-profit-y person. I went to college to learn exactly how to not make money and have proven extremely successful in my field so far.</span></span></div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The other night, I was hanging out with the kids from the Fiscalia (I am unsure as to what would be the American equivalent, but it was essentially a bunch of District Attorneys and Forensic Medics) and they were preparing their skit for the Fiscalia Xmas party. It was a song a dance routine to a rap version of a Peruvian Christmas song. I then went with Jose to the internet to try and help him download it for them to play in the background. It turns out there are very few people in the world currently seeding any rap versions of any Peruvian Christmas songs - actually, zero. Shocker. Anyways, I did find it on YouTube. So this is my Christmas present to you. And this is what my friends were half-drunkenly dancing around and learning. They are awesome. And I have had this stuck in my head for DAYS. Si me ven, si me ven...</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I love you and miss you all. <span lang="es-ES">Feliz Navidad. </span>Today, cooking all day – I slept in and missed my chance to kill the turkey (tears). Then Christmas starts at midnight. At midnight, we eat and open presents and everything else. It's just like what we always tried to talk our folks into when we were little. Looks like in Peru, the ingenious plan of every child has won. Tomorrow everyone just keeps partying. At any hour of the day, today and tomorrow, everyone is rotating between attending mass and drinking and dancing in the plaza. Oh, Peru.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(Oh, and I tried, but they were right. Internet sucks right now, no photos for you.)</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-6006598267634672532010-12-14T14:34:00.001-08:002010-12-14T14:34:43.897-08:00¡Eres La Muerta!<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am referring to my new life as Host Family Plus. I think it barely counts as Peace Corps anymore. I have running water all day every day. There are even rumors of hot water, though I have yet to encounter it. My bathroom floor is TILED (not dirt). I have a real gas stove and oven and even a REFRIGERATOR. So friggin' high end here.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I think I mentioned that I had to move, as my host family was moving. I ran into the mother of one of the friends I had made during the town fiesta – Robinson, who used to live in San Francisco and spoke pretty good English. His mom, Laura saw me one day and invited me over to lunch. I explained to her my situation and boom. Just like that. Whole new family, in super amazing house.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It is just Laura, who is a profesora of very little kids in a caserio, and her 13 year old son, Adrian. Robinson lives in Lima. He is coming to visit on Friday – but only I know that. Family surprise! Beyond the family though, she rents out other rooms here. So I have a bunch of roomies, all about my age. There is a doctor, a lawyer, a judge, and a cop. I am always hanging with the law and order crowd here, it seems. </div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It is very fun living with all of these people. The place is huge, so there is plenty of room for everyone. Everyone is super nice and friendly and including me in all sorts of activities. My new mom even hooked me up with a PIANO in my room to take my lessons on. My cop roomie, Edir, has been teaching me some crazy words from some far out jungle language, out where he is from. My mom and little brother regularly need to be explained to, that no thank you, I actually can't borrow the motorcycle to run my errands, but thank you for the offer, again. The judge does some excellent 3m drunken singing.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Besides that, my work has steadily been increasing in pace. Well, not very steadily. I did go ahead and make a lot of recycled paper with little kids and I am still plugging away at getting my summer courses ready. This week, I was supposed to spend 4 hours each afternoon helping in some adult literacy and vocational orientation courses, but that all has been canceled except for two hours on Thursday. My class with the little ones this morning was canceled (without prior knowledge of course) as was my meeting with the Colegio Director... that was supposed to be yesterday and then twice today but I still have yet to see him.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So this is pretty standard. The more I get scheduled, the more gets canceled. Luckily I am double booked for tomorrow morning – maybe I will actually have some work! It is an uphill climb, but I am slowly gaining more with each little slide back. Poco a poco...</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I busted my camera. Just a little. It is still usable, I just can't see what I am taking photos of. But nevertheless, because of this I have gotten a little out of the habit of taking them. I will try to fix that, and start saving for a new one. I heard good rumors of deals in Lima.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I went to Chiclayo last weekend and finally obtained my bicycle! Why, yes, I do have my own transportation now! This is very exciting. While there, I also made a few new volunteer friends and got to meet the family of one of my site friends. I am starting to more quickly get friends at site. I am bored a lot less often now. It's amazing. Also, one of my new volunteer buddies – turns out we have a mutual friend at home. That was pretty random and shocking.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I really don't have anything very exciting to put in here. It's almost Christmas, I suppose, but you can't really tell here. I miss crappy Christmas music and lights displays.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love you.</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-83892101142486478802010-12-03T17:53:00.000-08:002010-12-03T17:53:06.272-08:00¿Huelga? No se por que no.<div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First thing being first – NOTE THE ADDRESS CHANGE IN THE SIDEBAR. It's just easier to go to the city than to little Chota-town. And if things are going to keep getting caught in the Chiclayo customs office anyways...</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Today, at the elementary school I work at sometimes, a clown came. The very first thing he did was start breathing tons of giant balls of fire, completely filling the classroom with thick, nasty, block smoke, as everyone clapped and cheered. I wanted to jump up and give a Cocinas Mejoradas-type charla right then and there. Instead, I laughed and clapped. One thing at a time...</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We had Thanksgiving. The best Thanksgiving ever. A few of us discussed that we had been worried, that this was it, when homesickness would finally start to kick our asses, Thanksgiving with no family. Instead, we OWNED this Turkey Day, even without any actual turkeys.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First, we rented an apartment for the night, on the beach in Pimantel. Beautiful, gorgeous, amazing place. And absolutely stellar apartment – fifth floor, beach front, actual comfortable furniture, and amazing views. Only 6 of us could stay there – myself, Rob, Mallory, the Cobbs, and Chris Boston – and the rest stayed at the nearby hostel run by the same folks who own the apartment.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We did our shopping early that morning in Chiclayo, in the outrageously large outdoor market, and cabbed all the supplies out to Pimantel. Shopping there was pretty insane, but the market folk were infinitely helpful and, I believe, infinitely amused. We had our haphazard list of supplies, which was really just a half-assed attempt at a menu that I scribbled down in the hostel that morning. We all stood in the market yelling out things we needed, and then quadrupling the quantities. “3 kilos of sweet potatoes! No, lemme see that... 5! No, give us 10! 10 kilos!” A few market people ran around gathering it all into piles for us and keeping a tally of the money. We bought people out. We bought everything. We bought so much we could barely carry it all between 8 people. And we had spent less than half our budget.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We immediately headed for the beach. It was one pm and we hadn't started cooking Thanksgiving. I started to have a moment of concern. I quickly brushed it off, grabbed a glass of wine, and started putting people to work. It took awhile to gather everyone together off the beach, but once I did, we found every available knife in the world and people started peeling and chopping potatoes and everything else. I won't go through all the details, but I spent the entire time coordinating this out-of-hand undertaking. Everyone pitched in. Everyone but me kept boozing it up. Finally, at about 7pm, people started screaming for food. We had gotten out one tray of about 40 deviled eggs a few hours earlier, which had been immediately inhaled, and besides that no one had eaten a thing. But they had had a beer or nine...</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So Rob and I rushed out on the bird mission. We had decided at the market not to buy a turkey. Everyone doubted my abilities. While I still think I could have pulled it off just fine, maybe just had to spatchcock that bad boy, the back-up plan I must admit was a hundred times easier. Rob and I found the only Polleria in town and proceeded to buy all of their chickens. We bought 5 pre-cooked, cut into eighths, beautiful hot roasted chickens. This cost the entire rest of the budget, almost exactly. Perfect. By the time we returned, everyone had already forgotten how hyperbolic their hunger had been and they were back to having their own little apartment dance party. But a few soldiers had stayed in the kitchen, following the detailed instructions I had left almost an hour earlier, and dinner was almost ready.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Omar and Jeff turned into a table-moving, place-setting, food-scooping machine, and very soon we were all jammed in. The menu: Pollo a la brasa, garlic rosemary mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole (with marshmallows), stuffing, nutritional yest gravy, pureed squash soup, massive salad with an amazing avocado dressing, rolls, and apricot bars for dessert. I can't believe we pulled it off. With a few leftovers that were scooped around scrambled eggs and some not-very-good homefries I made for breafast. Mallory gave us a few words to set it off (Yay to Mallory for arranging the entire trip!) and we all went around and said what we were thankful for. </div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The rest of the night was just all of us enjoying seeing each other again, dancing and laughing and running around on the beach. We saw a beautiful sunset and were joined by a handful of Perú 12, 13, and 14 volunteers.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjEeuNuQxIIqwOP17QbjOyc5YHaCh1mkp3yxsVvYzoYtOMCI2KG7_K_mNoXlq4Cej_cuQHe22xFG09Gxw2HBM_2GS5qcNpxOn-O-0zJIG3bzH-1xzkzepYK5_cIUqcqQQ4JF45UEFOKqX/s1600/DSCF2518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqjEeuNuQxIIqwOP17QbjOyc5YHaCh1mkp3yxsVvYzoYtOMCI2KG7_K_mNoXlq4Cej_cuQHe22xFG09Gxw2HBM_2GS5qcNpxOn-O-0zJIG3bzH-1xzkzepYK5_cIUqcqQQ4JF45UEFOKqX/s320/DSCF2518.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In the morning, as I mentioned, we had a quick breakfast ( I don't know how I stumbled from bed straight back into the kitchen) and then we cleaned up and moved out of the apartment. Ellen and I went to the market and bought them all out of coconuts and the rest of the day was spent sunning on the beach, our biggest concerns for the day after Thanksgiving only involving whether of not there was enough rum in our coconuts and whether or not we were going to stand up and join the football game.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eventually, most everyone wandered off to a cevicheria, but Heather, Jimbo, Marina, and I just held down the beach. Eventually it cooled down and we moved back to the hostel. Supposedly, everyone else was out eating, but it turned out that was all a lie. They had actually met some kind South African and were partying at his flat. This apparently turned into some sort of disaster of epic proportions, with repercussions still reverberating throughout our country of service. I will just say I am glad I for once found myself in the mellow squadron.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">All in all, it was a beautiful weekend. I got to see a lot of people I hadn't seen since training and that was just spectacular. I was however, happy to head back to site. When I left I had been mightily frustrated. Between parties and strikes, we were looking at a seven day work month. While I love chilling out as much as the next gringa, I love being able to work when I want to as well. I had even had to leave my site a day early for the weekend vacation, as there was a strike starting the next day that they were supposedly barricading the roads for. Pparently, they even slacked off at ever doing that.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This week though, has been one of my most productive yet. I have finally gotten myself up to a real-life full work week. I am doing some ginormous preparations for a 6 week course that I am teaching on Youth Entrepreneurship over the summer break that starts after Christmas. I am also getting ready to start courses for the English teachers here – as they are teaching some mighty poor English at the moment. I am starting a computer course for the teachers, as they have a computer lab that is sitting unused as NO ONE know how to use them and therefore cannot teach the children. Next week I am starting a group of kids on making recycled paper Christmas cards. Making the paper will translate into some half-baked enviro lesson and I hope to teach the kids some organizing skills to market out their cards.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I dunno. I think I found my new house and will move this weekend. I will share more on that later, as this is now plenty. Also, I didn't take any of those pictures. And there were some other cool ones, but it was taking UNGODLY LONG to upload (two hours for those few) so I am off.</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div lang="en-US" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Cheerio.</div>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-2773115858791838662010-11-17T08:11:00.000-08:002010-11-17T08:11:13.386-08:00Santa Cruz, Estas Lejos Pero Te QuieroWay out lost in the middle of the northern Andes mountains, rainy season is starting in another 6 weeks or so, which means it is already quite wet. After the last almost two weeks of seeming endless running around to Peace Corps events, I got home last night. It was a long bus ride. This last leg was particularly long in the sense that it is usually four hours from Chota, but in this mud, on these hairpin mountainside trails, we move a couple miles an hour, in dense fog. We even had to stop for a bear last night. Really.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I got home and the town was in full party mode, plaza packed with people, marching band on the way, and anticucho out in force. This party is apparently going for the next three days. It is ALWAYS a party here. This time it is the 59<sup>th</sup> anniversary of the Colegio. This means everything is closed again. This means that the 6 hours I sat in Anita's in Chota yesterday, pouring through class materials and planning 12 weeks of teaching, cannot be used in my meeting today. Which is clearly not happening. So. Free time. Guess I blog.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I actually went to my first school anniversary party a couple of weeks ago. It was at the school my host father teaches at, and it was absolutely adorable. It starts, as with all things here, with a parade and, again as usual, dancing until very, very late. The dances were cute – groups of little kids taking turns doing the traditional dances from all over Perú in the ultra cool traditional costumes. This one, at the Colegio (High School), was similar, except that everyone was getting very drunk. At the school. Even the kids. Very odd. And, they did a performance of Thriller – zombie dancers and all.<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A couple of weeks ago, we had the Peace Corps artisan fair at the US Embassy in Lima. Every year, all of the business volunteers come in with the artisan groups they work with from around the country, and sell their goods to the Embassy workers and all the Peace Corps staff that come in for it. Also, the volunteers all end up buying crap from each others booths. So, fam, Christmas presents are on the way.<br />
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I seem to have taken pretty much one photo in Lima - at the main office book exchange:<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It was super fantastic to get to see a lot of the other volunteers I went through training with, and to meet a bunch of the other business volunteers who are scattered afar. It was less fantastic to do the multiple day epic journey back and forth, and also that my artisans sold practically none of their very expensive shawls. (Who wears shawls?) Actually though, both ways on the trip had their own events – more happening even than the one night in Lima. On the way there, I stopped in Chiclayo to meet a Youth Development friend for lunch and ended up having an interview with 2 Peace Corps staff from DC who were in country to “interview volunteers about the recruitment process” i.e. go to Macchu Picchu. I got free Starbucks out of it. On the way back, Biz and I were the only ones who only returning directly back to site instead of staying to party extra time in Lima. Now, it has always been tempting, when getting on a bus knowing you will not be stepping off for 15 hours, to bring a little something to drink to help pass the time. We discovered just how bad of an idea this actually is. The next morning, when we woke up sprawled across bus seats in Chiclayo and retrieved our stuff that was strewn all about the bus, we met up with another volunteer, proceeded to get the most amazing ceviche, and visited the back corner of the market, where the witch doctor sell their COMPLETELY INSANELY AWESOME wares. So I think I only got one or two pictures of that...<br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I only got to go back to site for a couple of days before I was off again, but they were pretty great ones. I finally got in for my day out with an agriculture ONG here. I finally found a day when they were actually OPEN. We went out to a guy's farm in Mitapampa and helped set up an irrigation system. It started in house with a bunch of cuy and the collecting of their poop. The poop had been fermenting for forty days in a barrel, one part poo and ten parts water. The poo soup was then transferred to a ditch. We then installed a LOT of small gauge PVC pipe down the side of the mountain, to drip the fertilizer into the existing water supply. We also picked a lot of tomatoes. O! And my favorite part, they had a bag and tube attached to the top of the fermenting system, where they collected the gasses and fueled their cooking stove with that. It was fun. I get to go out with these ONG folks a bunch more – I think I will learn to artificially inseminate cows next. I will also be able to partner up with them, so that when they give workshops on farming techniques, I can share the time and space to help them with management and investment stuff. Boring. But as long as I really get to stick my whole arm up a cow's ass soon.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The next day, I had my site visit. This is when all the bosses come visit to make sure you are actually doing something, are really still living there, that you aren't hiding a secret pregnancy, and that you haven't joined the rebel terrorist armies or started running coke. Yet. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I think my site visit went well. We met with the coffee farmers out in Tosten and my boss Caja boss, Jose, is going to help me with some sort of project proposal with them. My Lima boss, Alfredo, explained to the mayor that he would not be marrying me. I still can't believe my mayor had the greasy, mustached, gold-chained cajones to tell my boss, first words out of his mouth, that he was going to marry me. HA. Alfredo took care of that. We then met with another ONG and with my Colegio, both of whom I am starting big, fancy projects with. Kind of scary to really put my Spanish this level of testing. Then, the most exciting part, we got to ride in a Peace Corps mobile with them to Caja City. Alfredo and Jose in the front, me and Ash in the back with Chris Heather smashed between us. This was the <i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">fastest </span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ride on Earth. We passed out a full round of Dramamine and had a serious dance party with a full air band for the remarkably short amount of time it took us to get there (FOUR HOURS! SO AMAZING!) We had Chris Heather on the mic, Ashley rockin' the vocal guitar, me on the keys, and Alfredo plays one hell of an air drumkit. I wish they would come to drive me places more often, so much better than hodling on for dear life with one person drinking a soda bottle of cañaso on one side and another puking in a plastic bag on the other.</span></span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">In Cajamarca City, we had a four day camp called VALOR – which stands for something loosely translated to Teenage Boys Organized for Responsible Leadership. This is an event that takes place in each department each year. Every volunteer brings in a few exceptional kids to a centralized location and give them the weekend of their lives, sneaking in some pretty cool trainings. It is entirely organized (and funded, it turns out) by the volunteers, and it is pretty friggin' fun. It mostly involved tons of playing and eating ice cream. Us newbies didn't bring kids this time, so we got to spend a lot more time observing the others, which was pretty great for learning how to give good charlas. Between the futbol, the actual football, the dodgeball (and window breaking), the trips to the heladeria, and the hilarious team games, there were classes on nutrition, environmental stewardship, sex ed, self-esteem, and a project on entrepreneurship. Also, we took them to the movies, which many had never been to, and was very cool. And we did a big tour of the University and brought in a panel of professionals for them to question.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">These were a very seriously great bunch of kids. When they got up to introduce themselves at the beginning, occasionally they would go on an enthusiastic schpiel about how excited they were to be there and how much they wanted to learn. Now, everyone had brought their best and brightest kids. And then they set up a point system with prizes at the end. That means these kids were running around, cleaning up after meals, making their beds, and participating fully in every activity. To the point of getting the professional panel in a huge debate with the mine engineer, the lawyer, the doctor, and even the music composer going on about responsible development and the role of the government, the mining industry, and the voters in all of this. My Spanish didn't keep up too well at that point. ALMA, the girls camp, is in June, and I can't wait. Also, next year's VALOR, we will be running the show and we will be bringing our own ever-so-earnest students. I love camp. How come I never got to go?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/IMG_2805.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/IMG_2805.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/IMG_5731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/IMG_5731.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/P1010505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/P1010505.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/PB120685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/courtneyanglin/PB120685.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">So, that's what I just got home from. Now, my next trips are much shorter, a quick Thanksgiving beach house adventure with a bunch of volunteers and the cooking of real American flavored food and a one night jaunt to Caja City to run errands. After early December, however, I have nowhere to go until the end of January, as they have postponed out early IST. So now I feel like my Spanish has progressed enough and I have met enough people, to get started on more projects. Maybe even get up to a full work week. Which is hard, as Peruvians work maybe twenty with all these damn parties...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">One other piece of news, I have to move families I think. My family's contract on their house is up and they have been looking for a month for a new place. There are no places big enough for rent right now in town. I mean big enough in the sense that Peace Corps requires me to have my own room. They wouldn't mind moving into a two bedroom and just piling in. But I think I agree with Peace Corps on this one. So they are going to keep looking for a place, but at this point I have to start looking for a new family. I love my family, and they are thinking they may even have to move a bit out of town at this point, so this really kind of sucks. I am starting to mention it to all my local friends. I am looking at the bright side of trying to specify wanting people who eat vegetables and are Catholic!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-decoration: none;">Also, while wandering around the town of Baños del Inca, where Valor was held (with sweet hot springs), I suddenly heard someone yell, "GO DUCKS!" I was so confused that when two hippy-ish looking gringos from Oregon ran over to me, wearing Oregon hoodies like mine, I barely even communicated with them. It was absolutely pouring and there ws a marching band going by and still the whole thing seems a bit surreal. Wish I had actually talked to them longer instead of just wandering off... <br />
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So, yeah. That was a lot. And a large chunk of my day. Guess I will take this to the internet now. Oh yeah, also, I have been having nightmares lately about coming back to the States someday and kissing people on the cheek and saying “Ciao.” These things are expected here at all times and I preemptively apologize if I ever slip up. Pics are really refusing to upload today and I have been sitting here for 2 hours. So, that's all ya get.<br />
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Town resumes function on Thursday.<br />
</div><span id="goog_452148554"></span><span id="goog_452148555"></span>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-30064663791064385242010-11-02T13:17:00.000-07:002010-11-02T13:17:52.459-07:00Para Mi, No Problema.<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Halloween isn't a thing here. They haven't heard of it. They liked the concept though. My sister decided to dress as a witch and my dad as Superman. I made a new dinosaur head. They didn't get fully into it though, as there was no where to go in these ridiculous outfits, and the disfrazes were pretty half-assed in the end. It was a start though, Next year, I will have made it a thing. I also will have a pumpkin carving party. Which prolly means letting some market folk know months beforehand that I will be needing pumpkins...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The Day of the Dead/All Saint's Day, on November first, is a thing here however. It mostly just consists of everyone hanging out in the cemetery all day, lighting candles on the graves of dead loved ones. There was also a big Catholic mass in the cemetery that Ashley and I went to. That was pretty interesting.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There was another holiday here a couple of days before, where they set up 14 altars around town – the stations of the cross. They were beautiful and elaborate, with some even having gorgeous patterned “carpets” leading up to them, made of colored sand. They were only there for a few hours.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Being quiet while other people are sleeping is not a thing here, either. I like the things that I never before realized were cultural constructs. Like if you can't sleep at two am, you don't just decide to have a solo teenage dance party in your room, blasting music while your family is trying to sleep. This, it turns out, definitely a cultural construct. I have no idea why it has never caught on here. When the baby starts crying, you might think my parents would tell my sister to shut up, but no. Just not how it works. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A friend of mine in town went to Chiclayo last week and brought me back a six pack of Heineken. Me and Ash drank it on Halloween night, and told everyone we were dressed up as Americans for Halloween.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I remembered to take pictures this week:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">Me and the Mayor </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Me and my class of second graders. I am actually "Profesora Courtney" here. </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">A few of the altars in the streets on random holiday: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Me and my sister out hiking, on top of Cotorumi: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">I doscovered on top of the mountain that my radio station sends out its signals from this atenna at this little mud shack on the hill. Super hi-tech. </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">If you look really hard, really tiny and far away, you can see my friend Ashley's pueblito: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Mangoes just came into season! Market day with sis: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">My dad trying to fly holding his Superman "S" I made for him up to his chest. </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">One of my artisans in a dinosaur head: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Me and sister Iris and friend Rosa and artisan Elida. </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Sister in witch hat we made: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">We love pictures posed like posters. Jose and MJ: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Front gates of the cemetary fiesta: </div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Mass in the cemetary: </div><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There were more, but I hate the internet right now. </div><span id="goog_282998683"></span>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4985970130668235155.post-71199454975186086592010-10-24T11:21:00.000-07:002010-10-24T11:21:42.112-07:00Ovejas lentas y Patos rapidos<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8eMTRFHxWeZUoidTT2wNpPluCQn-XaEHDGtgXcPR1FQ_2VPgNx-Jq-U3LJy9RFzHppZkpSha6xWYp1YCLdq-gPjxy4iPIcWb4-OruBXvW4PCuCQgQL4TVCKhzAFYB3QXONNebHJwhBHVt/s1600/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I arrive to the school, the kids are in recreo, playing outside. A few of them greet me at the front gate, yelling my name and diving in for cheek kisses. Their classroom is all the way at the back of the school, so they get a jolt of pride, walking all the way through all of the less-fortunates with their own pet gringa. When I get to the classroom, I sit at the desk in front and gather my things and my thoughts while the kids wind themselves down a little. While I sit there, they come in the room in alone or in pairs or in threes, clinging to each others arms and giggling while they deposit on my desk an array of classic teacher gifts. I walk out of my classes at the end with an armload of apples and oranges and crackers and cookies and sour gum balls. When I walk around in the streets the children scream “Profesora Corni!” and run in for more affection. They all think I am crazy to work for free but really, it's absolutely fantastic and I am getting paid mountains for these easy little English classes with the little ones. </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am planning out some classes with the Director of the Colegio (high school), but these will be more of epic programs than these little English classes are. We are talking about term long courses on Youth Entrepreneurship, starting an internship program with businesses in the community, and having half-day work shops on Self-Esteem for Girls, and Anti-Machismo for Boys. Whew. Kids. I dunno.</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The teaching style they use with children in this country is far less than optimal and the results are evident when working with the adults, too. How a class works here, any class, is the teacher writing information on the board and the children copying it down. There is very little discussion and almost zero room for creative thought. Their penmanship, however, is excellent. This is a national epidemic – not the penmanship, but the teaching style. If I remember my Little House on the Prairie books correctly, the educational system in the United States was very similar in the past. Now how was that changed and can I do it here? </div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Because it is very frustrating. When working with the adults, getting them to come up with ideas is like pulling teeth and when one person gets an idea, the rest simply copy it, with great sighs of relief. When working with the children, I occasionally have to give in and let them copy a little something down, after the fourth of fifth time they ask each day, or else they start getting pretty antsy and stressed out. And it is absolutely astonishing the ripple effects that can be seen in absolutely everything, stemming from a lack of creative thought process. There is a lot we take for granted...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My business classes with the adults are getting better and I seemed to have gained a bit more confianza – I think I have even fooled them into believing that I have any idea what I am talking about. Then again, with the strange and not particularly useful education many have previously received, it is sometimes easy to blow minds (Let's figure out your production costs... Oh, look, they are HIGHER than you are selling your products for... Let's fix that...)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Other small life things: </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><ul><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am a runner now, though I still hate running and do not understand runners and this euphoria they speak of. It makes me throw up. I only do it to feed my masochism. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">More to my liking, I am now involved in an exchange with the town priest – English classes for piano lessons. I'm gonna be a regular goddamn Mozart. I don't put it like that when I am with the priest though.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am thinking of starting a reading circle soon and just dropping it straight in the center of the town plaza – I am sure I can draw a rather large group of gawkers for that, and maybe they will listen to the books too, and maybe want to read one someday. I can't remain in an entire country of non-readers. It makes me feel pale and ill somehow. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am writing letters to scientific supply companies in the States, to get lenses and mirrors donated to see about building a telescope for my town with my sister and some other teens. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am trying to learn a little more knitting and have started weaving my first shawl with my artisans. I still like knitting all right. I hate weaving. Hate. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My dad has now officially announced at an assembly of adults that I was presenting to that I am very marriageable. He had a whole sales pitch for me and everything. Nice one there, Peru-pops. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My family hates mac and cheese, but not nearly as much as they hate nutritional yeast. I am a complete jerk though and love watching them force it down and smile and thank me for the <i>interesting</i> American food. The jerks gimme rice three meals a day. Rice and potatoes. Not bad foods, until you have them three meals day. They can become the most hated things... Small acts of vengeful cooking, this is what I have been reduced to.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">With everything else, I feel that I am still getting absurd amounts of books read and have watched a lot of TED talks and movies.</div></li>
</ul><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Seems I am traveling practically every weekend. It would have been something like eight in a row but my Saucepampa/Tostén trip was canceled last weekend. This weekend, meeting in Chota, next weekend a horseback trip to Pulán and Chilal, the next one an artisan fair in Lima, the next one Valor Boys Camp in Cajamarca. After that it should be about time for another monthly meeting. Then maybe I can relax for a minute before a week of Early In-Service Training in early December in Trujillo. I really would like to have a little bit more static time, though I know that as soon as I get this wish I will want nothing more than to get a breaks from site.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Two month mark at site this weekend. Not sure how I feel about this. I feel that some of my compañeros already have a hundred times as many things going on as I, but then again, everyone's situation varies so wildly. I think I am mostly comfortable with where I am. I have about finished all the possible interviews I can think of to learn about the community – every school, NGO, church, and a million other things like the cops and power company and radio stations – and I have moved onto interviewing families to gather hard data about people's lives here. I feel I am conducting my own personal census. Epic task.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miss you all. Also, I yoinked one line in this blog from a book – prolly not verbatim. Should we play a game where you get a prize from Perú if you spot it? This is really just me trying to confirm that there is consciousness out there in the void.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I forgot to take pictures this week, so here's a few from last week. I will try and remember to take some more in the coming week.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am learning to weave: </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8eMTRFHxWeZUoidTT2wNpPluCQn-XaEHDGtgXcPR1FQ_2VPgNx-Jq-U3LJy9RFzHppZkpSha6xWYp1YCLdq-gPjxy4iPIcWb4-OruBXvW4PCuCQgQL4TVCKhzAFYB3QXONNebHJwhBHVt/s1600/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8eMTRFHxWeZUoidTT2wNpPluCQn-XaEHDGtgXcPR1FQ_2VPgNx-Jq-U3LJy9RFzHppZkpSha6xWYp1YCLdq-gPjxy4iPIcWb4-OruBXvW4PCuCQgQL4TVCKhzAFYB3QXONNebHJwhBHVt/s320/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Adventures in Chiclayo:</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKe4rpfx_5wx_zOgIZCT1bfLxZPkBHgTz09tWXfDTIQyN9i6SiO1g9NRpRZPHifjwwBPO57HSwdwgtPBjlsLqcF4RRUQR0s1J0Fia-7i0r-6gY6rK-JlJmK0F0UZNhdw9HVQHS3Ffcu4Yv/s1600/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKe4rpfx_5wx_zOgIZCT1bfLxZPkBHgTz09tWXfDTIQyN9i6SiO1g9NRpRZPHifjwwBPO57HSwdwgtPBjlsLqcF4RRUQR0s1J0Fia-7i0r-6gY6rK-JlJmK0F0UZNhdw9HVQHS3Ffcu4Yv/s320/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+016.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9s5OyN41sfcZqQH0nY0X49x3DIJxxxVk2uvc2UB536gabdwZYmrNHmBumf3o9L4S-7_NUtpRI-_sBB8N7TwLrOfEpkuLzs277N91L5SsiSIXb7zs6qOceKCbe8v7cGmbnSV7Kq1HnewZh/s1600/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9s5OyN41sfcZqQH0nY0X49x3DIJxxxVk2uvc2UB536gabdwZYmrNHmBumf3o9L4S-7_NUtpRI-_sBB8N7TwLrOfEpkuLzs277N91L5SsiSIXb7zs6qOceKCbe8v7cGmbnSV7Kq1HnewZh/s320/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+017.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XHovtqbwNJxq0W2dIQt4vbh6EiFQ1iODeijMxFw9TFK_5qTlkc44XTuSkBbQXRBW5Q1wawrjvsyycJlc1P-FLltZ3bMhcEY5F5EY019jgSvkHUR8qHkgitlZbKCnpRdjBPvY7gs58WP0/s1600/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XHovtqbwNJxq0W2dIQt4vbh6EiFQ1iODeijMxFw9TFK_5qTlkc44XTuSkBbQXRBW5Q1wawrjvsyycJlc1P-FLltZ3bMhcEY5F5EY019jgSvkHUR8qHkgitlZbKCnpRdjBPvY7gs58WP0/s320/Random+Santa+CruzChiclayo+020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span id="goog_1820130153"></span><span id="goog_1820130154"></span>Courtneyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10850764329138924081noreply@blogger.com0