Ovejas lentas y Patos rapidos

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.

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.

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?

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...

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...)

Other small life things:

• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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.
• 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 interesting 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.
• 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I am learning to weave:

Adventures in Chiclayo:

Bastante Cansada

In Peace Corps, I have begun to really learn to luxuriate. Oh man, I cannot even begin to describe the loveliness of a hotel hot shower on the occasional weekend, or the taste of your first real almost-familiar food in a long time. We are supposed to be roughing it here in the Peace Corps, though I find that the vast majority of time, I do not feel very poorly off. I have a nice, cozy room I have built, a great family, and I have even become used to my food being something that is there to fill up my belly, and nothing more. I do notice the times when I am reveling in the lap of luxury though, and I notice them profoundly. Roughing it isn't rough, and is fully worth gaining this depth of appreciation of hot, running water.

I think have finally started work. I spent that first month doing a lot of waiting. A couple weeks of working on my Community Diagnostic, then a couple of weeks of just waiting for the town party to be over. It finally is over, my mother has returned from her non-trip to Japan (Something about getting stuck in Chile? I really didn't understand what happened, but it's convenient for me,) and I am finally able to spend some time working with my primary group of artisans. We have an artisan fair we are attending at the US Embassy in Lima at the beginning of November, so I get to start my work with them full swing.

I am half way between my arrival at site and the three month mark that is supposed to be my announced beginning of projects, and I am pretty comfortable with where that puts me right now. While I feel I haven't yet done a lot of business project specific work, I really have gotten a decent chunk done with my diagnostic and have a plan to get my business work more stable by the time this period is over. I go this next weekend to meet with another group of artisans and a group of coffee growers in a caserio called Saucepampa, just a few hours from here. I get to stay with my host grandma in Tostén while I am there. I will be taking a rep from the coffee group to Lima with us next month too, to slang some coffee with the artesenia. Between these few groups, I have weekly business classes, weekly English classes, and weekly computer classes, so I should be able to stay a bit busy with that. I also start English classes in a few second grade classrooms in my community this week. I am not stoked on teaching English (boring for me and all but useless for the people here,) but it's what everyone wants and it will help me build relationships with the schools for when I am ready to start other classes in a few months.

I went to Chiclayo this last weekend to try and pull a package out of customs. Chiclayo is the capital city of Lambayeque and much closer to me than my own capital city, only about 5 hours. I have the option of going there instead of Chota for my regional meetings, but this was my first visit. It was pretty spectacular. I hadn't realized that by going to Chota for all of my “city” needs, I hadn't really been going to civilization at all. Chota seemed plenty fancy. But Chiclayo! My God, this place had paved highways and gringos who weren't in Peace Corps. This place had a movie theater, a beach, and a friggin' STARBUCKS. I ate pizza. So wild. So luxurious. We renamed it “New York City.”

Alas, as it is always holiday in Perú, I couldn't retrieve my package from customs. I am heading back on Wednesday, just for a couple of hours. 10 hours of bus riding in one day is more than worth the contents of the package. However, I hope this is my final trip for awhile, as I can't afford bus tickets or hotels anymore this month and going to Chiclayo for just a minute is such a teaser...

In other news, I kind of have friends. And my Spanish is back on the road to improving, after a backpedaling that occurred with the influx of English speakers for the town party.

PS Mission accomplished, package retrieved, excited to watch my family pretend to like Annie's Mac and Cheese, while hiding disgust and confusion. Also, happy to have a new rock, some strange dried out little carrots, random useless to do lists I wrote myself 6 months ago, and my copy of Overqualified around and judge people with. Thanks, folks! You guys are random. And oh yeah, I got an external hard drive and will no longer have morbid nightmares of losing everything. And the customs office in Chiclayo – SUPER Peruvian...

My mom at work

Coffee Farms out in the campo

Leading the town parade with the mayor, starting off the town fiesta

Me and some artisans, being fancy

This monkey hands out lucky tickets and I have one

They almost spelled my name right, special guests at the town party

 Town Party

Bullfighting

Battle of the Bulge

I love their outfits

Estrellas y Truchas, Gracias Adios

Here are some things:

While I am excited to go visit an association that wants my help, that is located about 5 hours from me, the last 3 of which will be on horseback, I am unsure as to how I will help them get more tourism business. It is a very high hurdle just to get tourists to where I live, let alone another half day's travel into the mountains. I will however, take one for the team and head out there to see all of their caves and waterfalls and jungle and unexcavated Pre-Incan ruins. You're all welcome, I will get this horrid tourism off of your hands.

My Spanish has crossed a bridge. For the first long time, I was catching up to previous knowledge and tying things together. Understanding was always far easier than speaking, as it was easier to recognize words and pick things up than it was to come up with the words on my own and put them all together coherently. I have now gotten to a place where I can use my available words and structures to convey most of anything I need to, though it is often in a simplified or roundabout way, and also now I know enough to realize just how much I do not know. Often I am unable to follow someone because the accents of the deep mountains are just that hard, but much more often now I am realizing that I can completely understand a person but simply do not have the vocabulary to have any clue what they could possibly be getting at. Part of this I look at in a positive light – my accent has improved enough for people to assume I speak more Spanish than I do. Must speak more poorly...

It is apparently completely appropriate for a marching band to wander the streets at any given time of day or night. In fact, one passes my house every night around midnight and again at about 5am. I am unsure exactly when I am supposed to sleep. Am I missing something key here?

I feel so much more comfortable in my community. This place is home. They are still getting used to me, as the only gringa in existence, and shout greetings from afar. Only now I enjoy shouting greetings back. They are my friends, or will be whether they like it or not. Sometimes I just want to shout back, “No, I am not getting married soon, to you or your brother,” just to nip the most asked question in the bud. Maybe I could wear a sign.

I just drank some tea I got in a package from my grandmother in the states (Thanks, Grandma!) and it was SO strong. Wow, flavorville, I didn't realize the stuff here was so weak. It was also my first caffeine in weeks, as I am completely off of most everything that is any fun, and I think I will probably be up all night. I mean, look, I am writing a damn blog again.

My town party has begun. First, I was asked to lead the parade, helping carry the banner that announced the beginning of the festival. Later, I was given a festival brochure, complete with a schedule of events and tons of pictures. I open it up to find, in the center, a listing of people involved in the organization. There, right in the middle, in big ol' capital letters, it says in Spanish, “And With Special Guests: Courtney Anglin and Ashley Sansotta.” Apparently just being two gringas in the middle of nowhere makes us the special guests of the whole damn town party. I have also made a lot of new friends, including mountains of random people who speak some English. A lot of my new friends are only here for the week, however.

I just got back from a bullfight. It was the most beautiful, terrible, suspenseful, insane, awesome, awful thing I have ever seen. There sure is a lot of blood. Also, one of the bulls battled a horse, knocking it down along with the gate, getting to the outer ring amidst tons of gasping and screaming. There were periods when I was unable to talk. I wanted to cry and throw up and laugh hysterically. I am still shaking, trying to eat dinner and type.

My whole family is out of town this week. They took my mother to town to send her off to Japan for a month and the rest of the family is just visiting relatives in Chiclayo. Ash and Mark came to visit for the fair, as we have tons of artisan booths. We have been cooking up a storm of American food and just hanging out at the house. It is so nice, like we are real adults with our own place again.

I was out making new friends and dancing until about 3am last night, so I am thinking bed before seven. Is that pathetic? I almost always go to bed absurdly early here.

Yesterday I saw the greatest thing. We had our afternoon thunderstorms and it was a real doozy. Lightening every 5 seconds and the streets turned into rivers. I could still here noise from the plaza though, so I went to investigate. I found the bands still rocking away on the church steps and my town out dancing in the downpour, jumping around in inches of water. It was phenomenal. I love this place.

Ok. Now, less phenomenal. This town party is never going to end. Never. Still raging. Has been for almost two weeks now. I really hope I can get back to work next week, and that everyone sobers up eventually.

People keep finding me. Whether I am in a dark back corner of an internet cafe or shopping in the crowded aisles of a far away market, people who are looking for me appear to ask me whatever question. I think they must just be able to walk to the plaza and ask which way the white girl went last and follow my trail from there. I don't think I could ever have secrets.

I am in a hotel now and just took the most amazing hot shower. Might be the cleanest person in Perú. Ok. That's all for now. Hasta.

Well, just tried to upload some photos, but there seems to be a problem with me and the new uploading form on Blogger.  So, not my fault.  You didn't really wanna see all the party pictures anyways, or all the gory bullfight pics especially.  They are awful.  I will not be attending another.

Olvidar

This is a blog I apparently wrote September 12th and them promptly forgot about.  Suppose I will go ahead and publish it now, simply for posterity's sake...

I think I last left off with the funny drunk doctor. I could easily start off with him again, as I have just seen him for the first time since then. Turns out he is running for mayor. So awesome. It would be completely hysterical if he won and likely pretty entertaining to work with him for the next two years. I am of course not allowed to have an opinion on matters of politics in my host community. Wouldn't want the United States interfering in foreign governments, now would we...

The last two weeks have been as much of a merry-go-round as expected. Some days I feel completely slammed – running around, meeting people, getting shit done. Most days, however, I feel somewhat stagnant. I walk around and around my town, getting to know the hidden corners. I am getting my room more and more cozy and comfortable, preparing to live my life here, I even have electricity in my room now. I am getting to know my family and feeling more normalized into my situation. My Spanish is improving. Things seem to be plugging along. Slowly.

My mother, who is also my work contact, is often gone. She works in the caserios a lot, and has disappeared to Chiclayo and now Lima, too. She will disappear for days. She has only actually been here a day or two since I last wrote. When she is here, she is a bit tough to nail down. I finally was able to sit with her for awhile last night and talk about the work I am feeling ready to get started on. We have an Artisan Fair at the US Embassy in Lima to go to in less than 2 months and I needed to figure out how prepared my artisans will be and what I need to teach them. As I suspected, they are pretty ready. My main group doesn't really need me much – but that's alright, I will find others, and hopefully soon. I get to meet my coffee farmers on the 20^th. For now, I am returning all focus to my community diagnostic. I just wrote outlines for the many, many interviews I will be conducting around town this week.

I spent two of the only days that my mother was available puking my guts out sick. I suppose it was my turn to get it bad. Afterward, I was very weak for a day or two. Ashley visited and I was the most pathetic hiking buddy ever, stopping every 20 minutes to will myself not to vomit. It sure was a beautiful hike like always though.

I went to town. And I had a birthday. I suppose those are things. I went in to Chota for just one night, mainly to purchase a mattress. It's our big city, only 4 harrowing hours away and all of 30,000 people. Ashley went with me and we met up with the two volunteers who live there – Mark and Christie – and two others in the area who came in - Chris and Annalise. It was pretty exciting to eat out, have laundry done, take hot showers, flush toilets, have wireless internet, drink a beer, stay in a hotel, and just speak friggin' English for a night. Absurdly exciting. We also did quite a bit of shopping. I did buy a mattress (really just a glorified piece of foam), as well as a new pillow and a sheet set. Ash got a whole stove and kitchen set-up, so when the two of us loaded back on the bus that evening to head home, we were packing heavy. I did manage to load my mattress on to the top of a mototaxi (“Just reach up and hold it on,” seems to be the simple solution for mattress-meets-motorcycle...), and had no problem getting on the bus and getting home. It was funny – one night in town and I was pretty much super ready to be home again. Getting into my new, fresh bed was the most luxurious and amazing thing ever.

The next morning was my birthday. My family made me a delicious breakfast of these little fried things that were somewhere in between pancake and doughnut; they were apparently called, “tortillas,” as is everything else, though I have never seen what I know of as a tortilla in this country. Then they presented me with a very nice bright purple sweater. Of course, I wore it all day for them and of course it was the hottest day I have ever seen here. I decided that since it was both Friday and my birthday, it was fully appropriate to pretty much stay in bed all day and watch movies – this new bed is just way too comfortable... So I bought some yarn and a slice of cake and did exactly that.

The next day was my host father's birthday. I went down to the bakery and bought him a whole cake. I watched our ama de casa slaughter a very large duck, and we pretty much feasted all day. I don't know how old he turned, so the cake had one “0” candle on it. This prompted my father to have a long philosophical discussion with me about wasted youth and the universal desire to turn back time. Sometimes speaking Spanish makes me so tired.

Today is market day and I explored it thoroughly, though I am still holding my breath in parts of the meat sections – I will get tougher. Fresh herbs are still eluding me. People keep saying they know where to find sage and rosemary, but then they were of course lying. So, I went and watched the mayoral debates going on in the plaza. There were hundreds of people watching. There are about 10 candidates, the election is in less than a month, and it is so strange to be so removed. I did realize that I do know most of the candidates, but I really don't know much about their political stances. I suppose it's okay that I am not allowed to have an opinion, because I really don't.

I swung into our beautiful Catholic Church on my way home just know and though there were only about 3 people in the pews, there was a woman belting out the most beautiful Ave Maria. Apparently she is practicing for a concert tonight. I am going. Very exciting.

Mostly, life just seems so normal now. I am not sure what else to write. I have stopped paying as much attention to the daily strangeness. I think I saw a gringo last night in my plaza and that is about the weirdest thing that has happened in a while.

El Penal

This is a completely random series of pictures.  Figured I should share some since I am lying all day in my hotel, watching college football.  Regional meetings are an awesome excuse to get a real bed, a hot shower or nine, and some internet.

Fiesta day in Catache:

Random - I think from a bis ride between Santa Cruz and Catache:

Fireworks for sale:

\

Making aji on rocks in the campo:

This is an eight story tall tower of fireworks.  They spend all day building these things and then they burn them down at like 2am.  They are extremely impressive.  See all the little spinny thingies and there are flapping birds on top and a waterfall thingie.  It all animates on fire:

Nightclub in Caja City on FBT.  Volunteer buddies and random Swiss grad student:

Hiking:

We do a lot of hiking.  This is Ashley, she is the closest volunteer to me:

Good buddies Ashley, Ellen, Biz, and Ryan:

Screaming Mummy:

It's the smallest soda ever:

Ryan made it:

My baby sister Sylvana, after playing in the coal pile:

Market:

Night in the Wasteland, near the end of training:

Very dramatic flower pictures from my hikes:

Ash and Mark and my bday feast:

That's my town from the top of the mountain.  The trail disappeared and we just bailed up the side of the mountain.  It was pretty good.  Cows.

I don't ever feel like blogging anymore.  Coming back to town on the first, I think.  Will update maybe then.

La Madrugada (¡Ahora con fotos!)

I am finally here at site, getting here on Wednesday after journeying the fabled Hero's Quest in order to arrive. I hear it's official that a few of us out in this area are the very most remote of the Peru volunteers. It took me days to get to site this time... 16 hours of cama cama and ten hours of dirt roads later, falta muchas break-downs but including a lovely man next to me barfing in a bag, and an extra night in a hotel in order to catch the 4am combi for the last crazy stretch... and now, finally, I am exactly where I want to be. I arrived to my house just in time to met the town pastor, eat a late breakfast, and get delivered a solicitud. It seems my work is really starting off at breakneck speed. This was from a campo gentleman who had come from afar because he had heard of my impending presence and was sent to request help organizing a group of bee-keepers and cuy farmers. I am so in.

After I agreed to meet with his group in Chancay Baños on Sunday, I went to catch a quick rest as that last windy and crowded stretch of road had been my least comfortable ever and had been less than optimally placed in the middle of the friggin' night. I woke up in time to grab lunch and then hit the town with my little sister, Iris, to do some very important market and hardware store scouring. It took awhile to find a bucket of bright red paint for my room, and quite an extraordinary number of strange looks. People here really like to whitewash inside. So boring. So, we got all our paint supplies, a lamp, and many other little things, and headed back home with our wares and with ice cream cones in hand. I already don't know how I'd survive without my sister – even with her disturbing Beiber-fever.

I then rushed off to a Fair Commission meeting, which didn't actually take place due to the extraordinary circumstance of this being Perú. I spent the rest of the evening and a large percentage of the next day deep in planning mode. Felt like the beginning of a campaign. I made electronic and giant hard copy versions of a three-month plan. It took eons, as usual. I realized during the process how glad I am to have a background in planning and organizing while jumping into this immense project with very little instruction. I thought about it as I did it, but even more over the next day, as I spoke with my compañeros on the phone, that this is a HUGE gap in our training. Seems that everyone I have spoken with is feeling at a loss of how exactly to begin. They even told us that this is the biggest problem with getting to site. I don't know why they don't just teach the basic set of planning tools that we all learned back home. I am going to see what I can do to get this implemented. I am glad I feel like I know exactly what I am doing and what is next, it's a pretty decent comfort when I am sleeping on straw covered in a sheet and washing myself from a bucket.

Friday morning I went to Ashley's site, an hour away. The drive is amazing – absolutely breathtaking. She lives on the other side of the range from me, and the climate is totally different. You go over the pass and you are suddenly in the gorgeous canyons and sheer golden and red cliffs of northern New Mexico and Arizona. You follow a beautiful whitewater river the whole way there and pass through little oases of farms pulled straight from visions of Shangri La. So, of course, the first thing we did was go on a hike. I am not even going to bother trying to describe how awesome the hike was. We'll just go with the literal interpretation of awe-some. I was actually there for an afternoon meeting with our artisan group, but I was stoked the only buses went so early in the day.

When we arrived to the meeting, we found out that there is this wonderful man from the Peruvian government who is already doing our job for us! Suddenly we understand why our random group of mountain women are the most well-organized artisan association we have encountered. This guy sat and taught them the very stuff I was planning on teaching them as soon as I finished my diagnostic/improved my Spanish. And he did it very well. It was also quite educational to watch. I have a new work partner and will be spending more of my time focusing on the less organized groups. Fantastic.

I stayed the night in her town and the annual town fiesta was in full effect. One thing. They built a six story high structure covered in crazy spinning and flying fireworks with flame waterfalls and other finery and then they pretty much burnt it down. I love them. Another thing. Women don't drink in towns this small, so while the men got hammered, we pounded coffee and partied like no tomorrow. Yet another. Gringas are the most interesting thing on Earth apparently. At one point, I got up on a bench to take a photo of the crowd and as soon as my flash went off (the town electricity of course went out as soon as the party started) a bunch of flashes went off back at me. They all took pictures of me. Look! A gringa! There is also epic staring. Standing and staring, one foot in front of you. Also. They say that being in Peace Corps involves lots of embarrassing the hell out of yourself, so we embraced it and let them teach us a traditional dance while hundreds watched and laughed. This involved a giant sombrero. Last thing. These people party. We went to sleep around 2am and it had barely started. Definitely still raging when we woke up at eight.

We went on another hike in the morning and then it was about time for me to return home. Ash is jealous of my site because it is bigger so people don't stare as intensely or yell “Gringa!” quite as loudly as I walk around. I am jealous of her because it is so much easier to make friends. People here aren't nearly as interested in talking to me. I already miss all my friends from her site – William (who is just like Pablito!), and his funny friend Diana; Arturo, Ashley's rockstar cousin from Lima; Diego, the brilliant little boy who gave me a regalo before I got on the bus; and even John, the suspiciously friendly cop. They were waving me off as the bus pulled out. It was the sweetest.

My baby sister ran up the road yelling, “Co! Co!” when I got home though, so that worked. I busted ass for the rest of the day getting my room how I want it. I painted it bright red, which makes my parents crack up every single time they walk by the door. It's a crap paint job. Tip: when painting a room in a house made out of mud, just realize that chunks of the wall will continuously fall off as you go and just keep going. Oh well. Then I cleaned and decorated. Then I wrote this. Man. Every day. So full. I am exhausted. Good night.
By the way. A tortilla isn't a tortilla. A tortilla is scrambled eggs, sometimes with some spinach in them. There are no tortillas. Mosquitos are also having an identity crisis. A mosquito is actually any small bug, while those filthy little bastards that suck your blood are zancudos. Somos Perú.

Post Script. Wow. I was going to post that blog this morning, but instead got pulled into the whirlwind that is Perú. Today, I believe, would have tried even someone who had a mountain of patience. For me, a rank amateur on the patience front, it was a great test of will. I learned a lot. I learned that even if you wait for your town doctor for two hours in the morning on a random curb in order to go on a trip an hour each way to a caserio, this doesn't mean you won't wait for him for FIVE MORE HOURS after the meeting. But, I enjoyed the rain, I enjoyed the company of my sister, my mom's friend Percy, and the cab driver, Edison, I enjoyed a bit of my book, I gave another speech in Spanish and even fielded questions, I received gifts of mountains of fresh honey from my new association, and I spent a lot of time focusing on slowly breathing away my frustration. I mostly enjoyed watching the good doctor eat dinner quite drunk when he finally returned from whatever he was doing. This guy is definitely the most brilliant and hilarious Peruvian I have come across (for my compañeros, this was Mark and Jorge's love child of hilarity). This doctor told me that Peruvian serve up the hot sugar water to help the diabetes and the platos full of grease for your cholesterol. He also told me that my life wasn't worth living without love and to find a boyfriend and stop working so much or else curl up and die. He is now off to hit the town and play matchmaker. I got home to a million voicemails from my mom, as of course she finally got through and the caserios have no cell service. Ugh!!!

I just bought the ingredients for an amazing American breakfast in the morning – tomorrow is my mom's birthday and I am teaching a six am cooking class for one of my presents. They are very excited. I hope they own a spatula...

Before shot of my room

After - Much better!

My awesome family

Random choice of many pics I have of how awesomely gorgeous this place is:

Post Post Script:  After originally posting this, I went home and took up journaling.  For now on, I plan on keeping my activities there and focusing on pictures here.  I feel like I am torturing the void when I post this crap.  Love you all out there in the tubes.

Al Fin

Today I become a Peace Corps Volunteer. Training is over. Ten weeks in and now it is actually time to join the Peace Corps. This afternoon we all head in to Lima with our bags all packed and wearing our finest whatever-we-could-scrounge-togethers and we go to the US Embassy, where many fancy people will be waiting to mingle with us, and where we will take an oath to serve our country abroad for the next two years. Whew. I am so excited to get to work and so sad to be leaving this lovely little community we have built together.

The past couple of weeks. After site assignments, it was time to go actually see where we'd be living for the next couple of years. I got on a bus with some compañeros and headed off to Cajamarca. Sixteen hours to the city. Then a bus to Chota, further north. Six more hours. It is so beautiful in the Chota area that the trip is more than worth it. We stayed the night in Chota in preparation for meeting our socios in the morning. Our socios are the people who have requested Peace Corps assistance and who represent whatever organization we may be working with a little or a lot at our sites. They are also known as counterparts.

My socio is also my new mom. Her name is Rosa and she is the President of an association of women artisans called “Mujeres Virtuosas.” At our little “Socio Day” we did all sorts of dinámicas and other little Peace Corps-ish things to discuss the expectations and roles of the Volunteers and the Counterparts.

In the evening, I headed off with Rosa onto another bus to get to my site. Four more hours. This puts me a total of 10 hours from my capital city. This makes me officially WAY in the boondocks. This is awesome. I am in a perfect paradise in the sierra but nestled perfectly between la costa and the selva. This means I have huge green mountains, tons of tropical plants and minor junglyness, and perfect weather – 75 degrees and sunny every day. And who knew of this forest that is a stunning mix of ponderosa pines, banana palms, and tall eucalyptus? There are calla lilies and hydrangea growing wildly through the fields. The bougainvillea is taking over. Everything is gorgeous.

My family is super-fantastic. My mother, Rosa, is an amazing woman. She is 35 years old, from the deep mountains of Cajamarca, and seems to be a strong and amazing organizer. She just got back from an artisan fair in DC! Next month, she is going to Japan for 20 days for a leadership conference! Who is this crazy awesome little Peruvian woman? She is very interested in me teaching classes on women’s empowerment and self-esteem. My father, César, is older, in his 50's and a giant of a man. He is a teacher and he is superbly easy to understand. He told me the Inca legend of the camote (sweet potato) over breakfast. What a great guy. He wants me teaching classes at the high school to boys to teach them to respect women and how to be good fathers. He is pro-gay marriage, which is practically unheard of here.

I have two little sisters. Iris is 14 and so far we get along famously. She even cuddled up with me to watch a chick flick in her room one night. I haven't had a little sister before and I think it's going to be great. She explained to me all about the square root of negative one and walks around town with me helping me understand the campo Spanish better. My baby sister, Sylvana, is a year and ten months. She is the cutest thing you've ever seen and likes to hang out in my bed and pretend to read while I am sitting and reading. She can count too. By the time I leave, I will have been in half of her life. Weird, huh?

My house is also the artisan's workshop. There are always a bunch of women around – weaving, knitting, and caring for children. These are going to be my friends and they seem rather great so far. My house is small and rustic, but I think it will suit me fine. We are very close to a bustling (though stinky) market with tons of fruit and vegetables. Running water for just a little bit every morning, so I will be bucket showering for two years. No flush toilet either. I really am going to be in the Peace Corps now.

I had meetings with the mayor, the directors of the two high schools, and the guy who runs the health center. Mostly just an introduction and whatnot. I went and met my cops too. This is a hilariously intentional way to live a life. I had two radio interviews. My Spanish is still pretty awful so this was really fun. I think I can survive anything now. I went to a big meeting at the Ministry of Agriculture, where I was made a vocale on a commission with my city to help plan the town fair. My friend Ashley, who lives about an hour away, happened to be visiting me right then, so she is a vocale now too. Our fair is going to have food and artisenia booths, a bull fight, live animal shows – including something that involves putting the best cuy in a dress and then killing it and eating it, music, dancing, gauchos, and who knows what other awesomeness. I am pretty stoked on this project and my next meeting is in just a few days. All of this was in 2 days. Because I travel so far, I only got two days at site for visit week.

It seemed a little silly in theory that we were traveling all the way back for just one more week of training, but I was super happy to be able to come back and be able to try and wrap my head around the whirlwind of my new life. It was also amazing to get to hear about everyone else's weeks. This week has just been about closing down shop. Final language interviews, final medical briefings, admin briefings about logistics, lots of paperwork, photos taken for our Peruvian Ids, writing ourselves letters, party for the host families here, and Bridge to Service, whatever that means (haven't done that yet).

I feel like mostly we are saying goodbye to each other. I have some epic friends here. Fortunately, many of them will be nearby. Quite a few will not, however. Either way, we won't be seeing other volunteers very often no matter where we are, as it is time to get down to business.

This night, however, we all stay at a hotel in Lima. This will be my first night actually hanging out in Lima. Wish us luck. There is no internet where I am going in the mountains. There is an internet cafe where I can pay. I will write my blogs in documents and see how often I can still stay in touch. Shoot me an email if you want my phone number. I will update my address soon but for now it's fine to keep using the same one – stuff will get to me relatively quickly. I am breathing deeply.

I am joining the Peace Corps.