We just finished up our five day retreat at the beach with the two members of Jesuit Volunteers staff who came down to Tacna.
I feel refreshed (even though I could´ve used a little more sun in order to motivate me to frolick in the water a bit more) and filled with new ideas and excitement. We covered a lot of topics (doing a social analysis session, talking about the highs and lows we have felt from the last year, beginning to plan ahead to welcoming the two newbies in November, and spending a day in silence reflecting and for me, writing letters to people at home).
One great moment was reading my application from about a year and a half ago. At first, it made me feel a bit old (I mean, shoot, I am about to turn 25 in December. Not old, but definitely starting to internalize that in no way am I a child nor adolescent anymore). I also laughed a bit at some of the ways I phrased my ideas. Overall, however, it reminded me that I was seeking a program that would not simply give me the space to experience living and working in Latin America for two years, but would push my personal development and support me (through community and through prompts and spaces for thinking about the different ways of living, the difficult stories, the everyday challenges, and the everyday joys that I knew were to come). While I was sitting on the deck of the house watching the waves one morning (feeling good after a morning run and enjoying my coffee and a crossword puzzle), I felt very content with the choice of JVC. Retreats and aspects of the program like this are quite powerful. And after all, who does not enjoy a little r and r at the beach to recharge the batteries.
Also, my application contained a number of little nuggets that struck me. This quote from C.S. Lewis especially jumped out at me after almost a year of ¨experiencing¨ (which I know can be a very broad and general term): ¨Experience is the most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God, you learn.¨
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
The Coming Storm
The title of the post makes it sound more daunting than exciting, but the next three months are going to be a whirlwind of activity and movement through our humble little Tacna.
First, in the middle of October, our bosses from JVI will be down here to visit. More than an observation, I understand the visit to be a chance to share with them how everything is going, reflect on the past year, and think ahead to challenges and goals for the second half of this experience. We will be going on a six day retreat to the beach, and they will be stopping by for a site visit to my school. I have been thinking a lot lately about this visit and my site in general, and I believe I will be discussing with them the possibility of being somewhere else next year. I do not feel like I recieve enough institutional support (well, its hard to feel that I do when there is not even a director of the school around), which has affected how I view my own projects I have created and the animo I have. I will keep all updated on this front. On the positive side, I am helping to organize the plans for food over the retreat, which will be a medley of Peruvian dishes cooked by an awesome cook and amazingly sweet woman who is a good friend (she sells jello cups at the market near my school so I stop by and talk to her from time to time).
Next, at the end of October, we are going to do a haunted house in our humble abode. Nothing like sharing some cultural fun from the United States and getting to be silly and scare some kids in the meantime.
On November 16th, the two new volunteers will be making their way down here. I am very excited to meet them. Even though I am not so excited to see the old volunteers go, it will be very interesting to see how our community evolves and changes with new faces and personalities in it. As long as I have my early morning times to myself to run, do my crossword, and, on Saturdays, drink coffee, I am good.
December will be probably the most hectic. My birthday is the 4th, Christmas is the 25th, my mom comes on the 22nd (I am incredibly ready to share this experience and place with loved ones in a more real and tangible way than one can simply do in letters, calls, and pictures), and mushed into all that will also be the end of the school year, Nate and Cara´s respective families coming down, the newbees moving into the house after spending a month with host families, and the old volunteers leaving. Wild wild wild. And then comes Mes de Mision all over again.
Wow - its quite a lot even just sitting here early on a Tuesday morning and thinking about it. Well, I am ready for it (even though I was in a little bit of a funk Sunday and Monday) - and keep checking for updates on how it all goes!
First, in the middle of October, our bosses from JVI will be down here to visit. More than an observation, I understand the visit to be a chance to share with them how everything is going, reflect on the past year, and think ahead to challenges and goals for the second half of this experience. We will be going on a six day retreat to the beach, and they will be stopping by for a site visit to my school. I have been thinking a lot lately about this visit and my site in general, and I believe I will be discussing with them the possibility of being somewhere else next year. I do not feel like I recieve enough institutional support (well, its hard to feel that I do when there is not even a director of the school around), which has affected how I view my own projects I have created and the animo I have. I will keep all updated on this front. On the positive side, I am helping to organize the plans for food over the retreat, which will be a medley of Peruvian dishes cooked by an awesome cook and amazingly sweet woman who is a good friend (she sells jello cups at the market near my school so I stop by and talk to her from time to time).
Next, at the end of October, we are going to do a haunted house in our humble abode. Nothing like sharing some cultural fun from the United States and getting to be silly and scare some kids in the meantime.
On November 16th, the two new volunteers will be making their way down here. I am very excited to meet them. Even though I am not so excited to see the old volunteers go, it will be very interesting to see how our community evolves and changes with new faces and personalities in it. As long as I have my early morning times to myself to run, do my crossword, and, on Saturdays, drink coffee, I am good.
December will be probably the most hectic. My birthday is the 4th, Christmas is the 25th, my mom comes on the 22nd (I am incredibly ready to share this experience and place with loved ones in a more real and tangible way than one can simply do in letters, calls, and pictures), and mushed into all that will also be the end of the school year, Nate and Cara´s respective families coming down, the newbees moving into the house after spending a month with host families, and the old volunteers leaving. Wild wild wild. And then comes Mes de Mision all over again.
Wow - its quite a lot even just sitting here early on a Tuesday morning and thinking about it. Well, I am ready for it (even though I was in a little bit of a funk Sunday and Monday) - and keep checking for updates on how it all goes!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Positive Moments
I realized that by spacing my last two blog entries apart so much, it might have seemed like that was two typical weekends. All of that happened over four days, however, that are the biggest fiesta days of the year here because it was the celebration of Tacna´s return to Peru.
Anyhow, I figured I should write about something maybe a little more touching. My school - Santa Cruz - has many issues of control and discipline (it was decided recently that they would hold out kids who came more than five minutes late of the first two hours of class while they wrote ¨I should not arrive late¨ five hundred times), but when there are serious issues at stake, it and the people in charge can surprise me. When it was discovered (though honestly I am not entirely sure) that a girl in first year of secondary was being sexually abused by her father-in-law and her mother did not know, the secondary teachers acted swiftly. They brought in the mother, met with her, discussed how to address it with the authorities, met with her and the man involved in this, and generally just seemed to care sincerely for the best interests of this girl.
I mention this story because shortly after I found out about all this, I saw her one weekend on a crowded bus. She was working as the assistant who opens and shuts the door, who collects fares, and who has to manage everything while the driver drives. She told me that she does this every weekend on Saturday and Sunday. I put it altogether in my head and realized that what I had taken as an attitude of not caring and being lazy when she was in my section for the first semester (she failed and was moved down) was in reality just probably an overwhelming mix of emotional and physical demands. I mean, what 12 to 13 year old can be expected to work all weekend, go through the issues she was facing at home and still have enough time and energy and focus to do what is expected of her in school (much less that of a class like English that is fewer hours and less intense than some others).
Since then, I have made an effort to reach out to her more (not to pry or try to get her to open up, but just to chat and joke), and she definitely seems more cheerful and more involved. I honestly do not know how everything has been settled at home, but I do know that everytime I get a chance to talk a bit with her, she always has a smile on her face. And that gives me more life too.
And the afro dance classes I started taking early last week are super fun (even though I am the only guy other than the teacher). I really enjoy moving my hips a lot, though I have not yet mastered the moving your feet, getting some hip twist and shimmying with your shoulders all at one. Here is a little clip if you are interested in what its like (though not so good quality: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dv8WDNHfVNE&feature=related
Anyhow, I figured I should write about something maybe a little more touching. My school - Santa Cruz - has many issues of control and discipline (it was decided recently that they would hold out kids who came more than five minutes late of the first two hours of class while they wrote ¨I should not arrive late¨ five hundred times), but when there are serious issues at stake, it and the people in charge can surprise me. When it was discovered (though honestly I am not entirely sure) that a girl in first year of secondary was being sexually abused by her father-in-law and her mother did not know, the secondary teachers acted swiftly. They brought in the mother, met with her, discussed how to address it with the authorities, met with her and the man involved in this, and generally just seemed to care sincerely for the best interests of this girl.
I mention this story because shortly after I found out about all this, I saw her one weekend on a crowded bus. She was working as the assistant who opens and shuts the door, who collects fares, and who has to manage everything while the driver drives. She told me that she does this every weekend on Saturday and Sunday. I put it altogether in my head and realized that what I had taken as an attitude of not caring and being lazy when she was in my section for the first semester (she failed and was moved down) was in reality just probably an overwhelming mix of emotional and physical demands. I mean, what 12 to 13 year old can be expected to work all weekend, go through the issues she was facing at home and still have enough time and energy and focus to do what is expected of her in school (much less that of a class like English that is fewer hours and less intense than some others).
Since then, I have made an effort to reach out to her more (not to pry or try to get her to open up, but just to chat and joke), and she definitely seems more cheerful and more involved. I honestly do not know how everything has been settled at home, but I do know that everytime I get a chance to talk a bit with her, she always has a smile on her face. And that gives me more life too.
And the afro dance classes I started taking early last week are super fun (even though I am the only guy other than the teacher). I really enjoy moving my hips a lot, though I have not yet mastered the moving your feet, getting some hip twist and shimmying with your shoulders all at one. Here is a little clip if you are interested in what its like (though not so good quality: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dv8WDNHfVNE&feature=related
Friday, September 11, 2009
Tacna Day Weekend Continued
Saturday: So although I am posting this long after the fact, it definitely warrants some ink (or computer space?). On this day, I went with my host mother and Cara to the Feritac (Feria de Tacna) that might be basically the equivalent of a state fair, but for Peru. It had all sorts of advertisement booths giving out free nonsense on different products (replete with free samples, but I will get to that later), some stands selling traditional candies and delicacies, a car show (which in its own right was bizarre because it was a car audio show and so it was all about who had the loudest sound system and some of the cars were crap), a horse show (also bizarre), and assorted other things.
We end up getting in because my host mother, who is a nut, goes up to a random guard at a random gate and starts badgering him about how she knows the head of the fair (possibly through some distant, random connection) and has free passes (untrue) and has been walking around the fair forever trying to find the right gate (also untrue). Her craziness/persistence/lack of shame makes things work and the guy just waves us through instead of fighting.
After strolling through the fair and seeing what it had, we entered the big building where all the little stands were. I would estimate that about a fourth to a half were wine, pisco, or ¨healthy drinks¨(everything from coffee liquors to fig wine to the like). We walked around sampling everything and getting a little buzzed off of all the free little shots of the different drinks. Though I did get a tired of trying to pull the ¨I might be interested in your product¨attitude.
Then we go to wait where they are going to have a food festival of different alpaca dishes. Showing her crazy brashness once again, my host mother goes behind one of the tables where the different culinary schools are preparing their foods and drinks and just pretty much steals a couple seats for us. So, we sit there for awhile, and then she starts to ask for samplings of the different foods from the different culinary schools, and most are friendly enough and buzzing too (they were passing around more pisco that they shared with us) that they were totally cool with it.
All of a sudden, next to us arrives the mayor of Tacna (a gordo named Lucho Torres) and he takes his seat right there. We have been thrust into the spotlight as the guests of honor at the left hand of the mayor! And since he was educated at the Jesuit school in Tacna, of course my crazy host mother starts talking with him and before I know it we are all friendly and chummy, he is giving us big servings of the numerous alpaca meat platters he is recieving (at one point, we each got our own couple of grilled alpaca ribs - delicious), serving us wine and pisco that they have given him, and we are being serenated as well by what looks like a fifties washed up lounge singer who is singing ¨typical¨ music for the occasion. By the end of the afternoon, we were invited to numerous pisco sours as well, saw some trick bartending, and basically just had a grand old time. I have pictures to prove it all that I will put up when I can.
Sunday: Birthday of this sweet old lady who cooks breakfasts at the market by my school. We go to her house for wine, a delicious cocktail of some sort and heaping portions of arroz verde (or arroz con pollo) that is simply outstanding.
Monday: The birthday of the communications teacher Rosalia. Needless to say, much alcohol (so much was being pushed on me that was trying to hide the glasses and ended the night with six or seven on the table next to me, all with varying amounts of alcohol) was served, some delicious large portions of food were doled out, and I became a dancing fool. I really enjoy those type of smaller, intimate gatherings that are just good times to share and relax.
Man, was I tired the rest of the week though.
We end up getting in because my host mother, who is a nut, goes up to a random guard at a random gate and starts badgering him about how she knows the head of the fair (possibly through some distant, random connection) and has free passes (untrue) and has been walking around the fair forever trying to find the right gate (also untrue). Her craziness/persistence/lack of shame makes things work and the guy just waves us through instead of fighting.
After strolling through the fair and seeing what it had, we entered the big building where all the little stands were. I would estimate that about a fourth to a half were wine, pisco, or ¨healthy drinks¨(everything from coffee liquors to fig wine to the like). We walked around sampling everything and getting a little buzzed off of all the free little shots of the different drinks. Though I did get a tired of trying to pull the ¨I might be interested in your product¨attitude.
Then we go to wait where they are going to have a food festival of different alpaca dishes. Showing her crazy brashness once again, my host mother goes behind one of the tables where the different culinary schools are preparing their foods and drinks and just pretty much steals a couple seats for us. So, we sit there for awhile, and then she starts to ask for samplings of the different foods from the different culinary schools, and most are friendly enough and buzzing too (they were passing around more pisco that they shared with us) that they were totally cool with it.
All of a sudden, next to us arrives the mayor of Tacna (a gordo named Lucho Torres) and he takes his seat right there. We have been thrust into the spotlight as the guests of honor at the left hand of the mayor! And since he was educated at the Jesuit school in Tacna, of course my crazy host mother starts talking with him and before I know it we are all friendly and chummy, he is giving us big servings of the numerous alpaca meat platters he is recieving (at one point, we each got our own couple of grilled alpaca ribs - delicious), serving us wine and pisco that they have given him, and we are being serenated as well by what looks like a fifties washed up lounge singer who is singing ¨typical¨ music for the occasion. By the end of the afternoon, we were invited to numerous pisco sours as well, saw some trick bartending, and basically just had a grand old time. I have pictures to prove it all that I will put up when I can.
Sunday: Birthday of this sweet old lady who cooks breakfasts at the market by my school. We go to her house for wine, a delicious cocktail of some sort and heaping portions of arroz verde (or arroz con pollo) that is simply outstanding.
Monday: The birthday of the communications teacher Rosalia. Needless to say, much alcohol (so much was being pushed on me that was trying to hide the glasses and ended the night with six or seven on the table next to me, all with varying amounts of alcohol) was served, some delicious large portions of food were doled out, and I became a dancing fool. I really enjoy those type of smaller, intimate gatherings that are just good times to share and relax.
Man, was I tired the rest of the week though.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Wild Weekend of Tacna Day
Last Friday marked 80 years of Tacna rejoining the republic of Peru after a little interlude (of about fifty years) as part of Chile. It ended up being a pretty wild weekend because of this, and it almost felt like a minivacation because we stopped with classes at 11 am on Thursday (and everyday I teach from 11 to the end of the day so I missed a lot of class) in order to have a little celebration in the school. Here is a little day-by-day breakdown, with photos to come if I can figure out how to get around the password protection they have put up on these computers.
Thursday: The ceremony at school was definitely a little interesting bit of the whole weekend. The kids mached in with the flag, but dressed up as citizens of the city from 1929. People threw the typical Tacna flower, the bugambilla, and we all sang the national anthem (which I have memorized by now and I am quite proud of). The secondary students read some poetry from famous poets of the city and danced a polka (I have no idea how this became a typical dance of here, but I found it quite funny and enjoyed the way the boys got to just basically rock back and forth while holding their suit jackets). Afterwards, we shared some picante - a typical Tacneno dish that has cow´s stomach in it. Apparently it comes from the time of the Chilean occupation when the Chileans would take all the good cow´s meat for themselves and give the local people the stomach to eat, and so they cooked it with a ton of peppers and a thick sauce to make it less disgusting. Now it is the dish of local pride - funny how that works, no?
Other highlights of the day were a three to four hour school meeting where each person individually talked about their thoughts of how the school has been since the fire (the director made his monthly trip down from Lima and it was the first time he was around since the fire), and going out at night to celebrate a friend´s birthday. The band played 80s rock and randomly at like 1245 a military procession passed by outside on the main street.
Friday: Big old parade that was proceeded by lots of different organizations making these ¨carpets¨ along the parade root. Using different colored sawdust and flowers, they basically made these elaborate designs on the ground (I will put up pictures when I can), and until the big giant flag processed down, no one could step on them (so the first few groups had to crowd the sidewalks and step carefully as they paraded down to the main plaza). The highlight of the parade was a huge flag, followed by all the local politicians - and actually as it stopped for a second by us, Cara´s host family (I was watching it with them) rushed out onto the street
to serve a toast (or brindis as it is called here) to the main characters. Then there were a number of bands and many different groups from all the municipalities. And if one group was parading down without marching, the crowd would literally boo them and get angry (which I found quite humorous).
Also, I saw across the street a friend who had hosted us for lunch last weekend (and used to be in the military and is an older guy with tons and tons of Tacna pride. In fact, the week before at his luncheon, he shot his gun off into the air after singing the Tacna anthem and yelling Viva Tacna), and he shouted ¨Que viva las mujeres tacnenas¨(¨Long live the Tacnena Women¨). He then, using only improvised sin language, motioned to me that I needed to marry a woman from Tacna. He was quite forceful about it and everytime we made eye contact across the parade, he would do it again. He might have been a touch drunk and after seeing him with the gun last week, I figured it was better to just keep rolling with the joke and appease him.
Finally, the parade ended with all the military marching, from the military schools (not so intimidating) to the cavalary (not intimidating to me, but some people definitely backed away from the parade when the horse´s came down) to the commandos all painted up and armed to the teeth (very intimidating to me). I went with Nate and my host family to have lunch and we had some good picante and some delicious arroz con pollo (chicken with rice, but its a green rice that is super delicious).
Ok, so I will finish up the rest of the weekend later since I probably should get off to school now.
Thursday: The ceremony at school was definitely a little interesting bit of the whole weekend. The kids mached in with the flag, but dressed up as citizens of the city from 1929. People threw the typical Tacna flower, the bugambilla, and we all sang the national anthem (which I have memorized by now and I am quite proud of). The secondary students read some poetry from famous poets of the city and danced a polka (I have no idea how this became a typical dance of here, but I found it quite funny and enjoyed the way the boys got to just basically rock back and forth while holding their suit jackets). Afterwards, we shared some picante - a typical Tacneno dish that has cow´s stomach in it. Apparently it comes from the time of the Chilean occupation when the Chileans would take all the good cow´s meat for themselves and give the local people the stomach to eat, and so they cooked it with a ton of peppers and a thick sauce to make it less disgusting. Now it is the dish of local pride - funny how that works, no?
Other highlights of the day were a three to four hour school meeting where each person individually talked about their thoughts of how the school has been since the fire (the director made his monthly trip down from Lima and it was the first time he was around since the fire), and going out at night to celebrate a friend´s birthday. The band played 80s rock and randomly at like 1245 a military procession passed by outside on the main street.
Friday: Big old parade that was proceeded by lots of different organizations making these ¨carpets¨ along the parade root. Using different colored sawdust and flowers, they basically made these elaborate designs on the ground (I will put up pictures when I can), and until the big giant flag processed down, no one could step on them (so the first few groups had to crowd the sidewalks and step carefully as they paraded down to the main plaza). The highlight of the parade was a huge flag, followed by all the local politicians - and actually as it stopped for a second by us, Cara´s host family (I was watching it with them) rushed out onto the street
to serve a toast (or brindis as it is called here) to the main characters. Then there were a number of bands and many different groups from all the municipalities. And if one group was parading down without marching, the crowd would literally boo them and get angry (which I found quite humorous).
Also, I saw across the street a friend who had hosted us for lunch last weekend (and used to be in the military and is an older guy with tons and tons of Tacna pride. In fact, the week before at his luncheon, he shot his gun off into the air after singing the Tacna anthem and yelling Viva Tacna), and he shouted ¨Que viva las mujeres tacnenas¨(¨Long live the Tacnena Women¨). He then, using only improvised sin language, motioned to me that I needed to marry a woman from Tacna. He was quite forceful about it and everytime we made eye contact across the parade, he would do it again. He might have been a touch drunk and after seeing him with the gun last week, I figured it was better to just keep rolling with the joke and appease him.
Finally, the parade ended with all the military marching, from the military schools (not so intimidating) to the cavalary (not intimidating to me, but some people definitely backed away from the parade when the horse´s came down) to the commandos all painted up and armed to the teeth (very intimidating to me). I went with Nate and my host family to have lunch and we had some good picante and some delicious arroz con pollo (chicken with rice, but its a green rice that is super delicious).
Ok, so I will finish up the rest of the weekend later since I probably should get off to school now.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Post # 40
It seems like everyday there is some indication of how long I have been down here (now it is going on longer than 9 months). Today's sign is this 40th post of the blog, which finds me in an interesting place. My regular English classes have pretty much been taken away from me - the lack of space as they construct the new classrooms after the fire is pretty much an excuse as I think it has more to do with issues amongst the Secondary teachers and especially how most have some issues with the Peruvian english teacher, Sandra, because she does not have to teach full classes because of me and isn't as involved in the school as most of them are. But we as a community are going to Arica, Chile this weekend for retreat (four days to discuss social justice and spirituality and that excites me).
Before I forget, a fun experience I want to mention from vacations was when I decided to accompany the elder woman who runs the local store we go to in Habitat on her early morning market run. It was my form of a birthday present to her although I was not able to provide much help, but rather mostly just companionship on the early morning chore. I am amazed by her ability every morning to get up at 3 am (yes three in the morning) and go to the big market in town and do all of the shopping for the store. To see this little, elder Peruvian woman running all over this big market to pick up everything from fruit to 800 pieces of bread to lemons to onions to little bags of liquified garlic to the chicken and meat was quite incredible.
Another fun little experience came as a surprise yesterday morning when I showed up to school and found out that the entire school was going to listen to a talk/show about important life values put on by the local municipality government. It was basically a talk aimed for younger kids (complete with a guy on stilts, funny sound effects, clowns and prizes of lollipops), but they did bring the teachers out at one point.
For whatever reason, I was really feeling into the fun and spirit of this whole event and so when they called up the teachers, I was running around getting my students to chant ¨lealtad, lealtad¨(loyalty), I was dancing up a storm during the dance contest and then got really into the prize-deciding contest. As it turned out, this involved one clown pulling out a little frog puppet and making each teacher play a part in this little dialogue:
-¿Te vendo mi sapito? (Can I sell you my little frog?)
-Pero, ¿asusta tu sapito? (But, does your little frog get scared?)
-No, no asusta mi sapito. (No, my little frog does not get scared?)
- Entonces, te lo compro. (Ok, then I will buy it from you)
I got really into doing the acting and having fun with this contest (including asking if the frog was especially scared of gringos). Needless to say, I was a co-winner and just generally had a blast. It was also definitely an ego trip when all the secondary students screamed and shouted when my name was called at the end. I guess in general it just felt like one of those moments when I threw caution or shame to the wind and really entered into the moment and therefore reaped the benefits of the experience. Too bad I did not have a camera.
Before I forget, a fun experience I want to mention from vacations was when I decided to accompany the elder woman who runs the local store we go to in Habitat on her early morning market run. It was my form of a birthday present to her although I was not able to provide much help, but rather mostly just companionship on the early morning chore. I am amazed by her ability every morning to get up at 3 am (yes three in the morning) and go to the big market in town and do all of the shopping for the store. To see this little, elder Peruvian woman running all over this big market to pick up everything from fruit to 800 pieces of bread to lemons to onions to little bags of liquified garlic to the chicken and meat was quite incredible.
Another fun little experience came as a surprise yesterday morning when I showed up to school and found out that the entire school was going to listen to a talk/show about important life values put on by the local municipality government. It was basically a talk aimed for younger kids (complete with a guy on stilts, funny sound effects, clowns and prizes of lollipops), but they did bring the teachers out at one point.
For whatever reason, I was really feeling into the fun and spirit of this whole event and so when they called up the teachers, I was running around getting my students to chant ¨lealtad, lealtad¨(loyalty), I was dancing up a storm during the dance contest and then got really into the prize-deciding contest. As it turned out, this involved one clown pulling out a little frog puppet and making each teacher play a part in this little dialogue:
-¿Te vendo mi sapito? (Can I sell you my little frog?)
-Pero, ¿asusta tu sapito? (But, does your little frog get scared?)
-No, no asusta mi sapito. (No, my little frog does not get scared?)
- Entonces, te lo compro. (Ok, then I will buy it from you)
I got really into doing the acting and having fun with this contest (including asking if the frog was especially scared of gringos). Needless to say, I was a co-winner and just generally had a blast. It was also definitely an ego trip when all the secondary students screamed and shouted when my name was called at the end. I guess in general it just felt like one of those moments when I threw caution or shame to the wind and really entered into the moment and therefore reaped the benefits of the experience. Too bad I did not have a camera.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Tragedies, Typhoid, Travels and Taking Photos
It´s been a long time in coming, but after almost a month long vacation filled with many interesting details to relate, I am finally making myself sit down before the second half of the school year begins to post a life update. Also, as a side note, today marks nine months in Peru for me - I swear I am not counting down or counting up the days (we talk a lot in our community about simply trying to live in the moment), but it is still interesting to realize how long that has been.
So, to begin with the first T: Tragedy. Before I left for a two week trip during vacations, a very sad event occured in our neighborhood here in Habitat. There is a family of three who we as volunteers are very close to. The father, Martin, is a wonderful, McGyver-like, intelligent man who is our main source on Peruvian politics. He goes fishing to the beach with just a backpack of water and possibly some string and catches the bait for himself, and fishes almost all-night long in the water. His wife, Ediht, is the instructor for the step class that I go to regularly and a wonderful, though at times shy woman. She is a character as an aerobics instructor and like her husband and their son, very humble. The son, Jayson, had struggled his whole life with scoleosis (spelling¿) and if he had access to American medical care or was from a wealthier family, when he was young, it probably could have been corrected. As it turned out, his lungs were restricted because the curvature of his spine was so intense and it pained him to even walk the couple blocks to school. The school even moved his classroom down from the third floor because stairs were tough for him. Despite his problems, he was the best student in the school, was wonderful at English, and participated in almost every school event (including the month long service trip they do - mes de mision - where he helped cook and do other chores that he was able to).
The tragedy occured just before we left as Jayson became ill (first with a cold and a fever) and because of complications with his asthma and weak physical state, the illness developed into pneumonia and eventually took his life. To me, as to many, the rapidness with which this tragedy struck was stunning and I was left feeling empty and useless as I tried to process what had happened and also to support the family. The day after his death, his body was placed in the communal building for habitat and there was a all-afternoon and night vigil-wake. The next day they processed with the body to the church, held the funeral service, and then proceeded uptown to the cementary to bury him. Additionally, family and friends helped cook a large meal to serve to all those when they returned from the burial. To see the support and the coming together of the community to mourn and show their care for Jayson and his family was quite touching. For instance, the sudden costs of the treatment for the final days and then of the burial were quite overwhelming for Martin and Ediht, but after a collection was taken, the outpouring was more than enough.
A death is never an easy thing to experience, and for me it was one of my closest experiences with it. My maternal grandmother is the only real close friend or family member who has died in my life (there have been a few others, but none that I was particularly close to at the time of their passing), but I was in Colombia when that occurred and it was sort of a drawn out process with her weakening physical condition that it did not strike me in the same way. I still haven´t sat down and thought about all that I felt and saw (for instance, seeing Martin lead the pallbearers with his son´s body from the church is an image that will be etched in my mind for a long time), so I will keep thinking and writing about this probably.
A second tragedy (I promise, things get better with this one) was that half of my school, Santa Cruz, burned down. I found out early one Thursday morning during vacations that the estera (the bamboo-wood classrooms, which included the English classroom we had) had burned down in an overnight fire. I went to the school that morning to see the black and charred wreckage of about 8 or 9 classrooms. But immediately from the start there was hope as the local government officials arrived with many promises and there were bulldozers already on the scene ready to begin the work needed to make it ready for the start of school. When I returned this past Friday, I was standing in the entryway with the janitor-handyman and a hefty, important looking official arrived. He began to tell us how everything that was needed to complete the work was on its way and then he said goodbye. I later found out that that was the Mayor of Tacna and that the unfinished classrooms were being repaired and other prefabricated ones were going to go up this weekend to have the school ready to open tomorrow. I will see how it all turned out when I show up tomorrow, but the school could actually end up better than before vacation as these prefabricated rooms look better than the estera and they are finishing two of the cement ones as well. I heard that the news of this fire extended far across the country in the press and so the pressure was quite strong on the government to respond.
Phfewf, this is an epic one. Ok, on to Typhoid. Also in the beginning of vacations, I developed a very high fever one day (it reached up past 104 degrees) and had some extreme chills and weakness. When I went to the clinic, I had a blood test and the doctor noted that my white blood cell count was low (which I guess is not your body´s normal response to most viruses or infections - since it usually rises to fight the invader). The doctor called in the internist, who kind of did a whirlwind check and told me that I had Typhoid. In retrospect, his inspection was probably not thorough and they did not actually put me through the whole test for it (which at the time I didn´t know could be done). They did prescribe me some super strong antibiotics that I had to have injected into me with big needles (this kind nurse in our neighborhood came over to do it at night, though with the final injection, she had to stick me three times and cut up my arm a bit before she didn´t realize there was a piece of glass in the cotton that she was using to clean my arm - but let´s not harp on the bad, she was incredibly kind to me). Within a day, I didn´t have any more fever and I rested for the following four and a half days before going on my two week travels. I felt like I was ready to travel and was all fine, though a number of people expressed concerns to me that I should rest more. In retrospect, I had no issues during my travels and in general I think I probably had some sort of bacteria, but not typhoid (which does not start or go away that fast and is almost always accompanied by stomach troubles). But I will get a follow up blood test to make sure something else wacky is not going on, don´t worry.
Travels - so, I might expand on this later because I am feeling a bit tired out and my wrists hurt, but I will give it a short recap now. Nate and I visited the towns and cities of Urcos, Anadahuayllas to the south of Cusco, Cusco, Curahuasi to the west (where my host father is from and still has a lot of family), Arequipa (the white city) and Colca Canyon (which they say is longer and deeper than the grand canyon). All in all, we meet a wide range of incredible people who were very generous and incredibly welcoming. Whether it was the Jesuits in Urcos and in Arequipa or the more distant members of my host family in Curahuasi and Cusco, it was amazing how people accepted us into their homes and treated us as family without any second thoughts or complaints-grumblings. And because of this, I felt like I really got to know more of the country and definitely got to see some of its incredible views in the Andes of Curahuasi and Colca (where we saw some of the emblematic condors). I also got to see some guinea pig cooked, but through the whole process. In Curahuasi the kitchen area where we hung out and talked with the family was filled with them and one night they killed (by snapping the necks), dehaired, gutted, cleaned, filled with a stuffing and cooked eight of them. Even after seeing all the nastiness, they were still delicious.
Nate and I also got to bond and share a lot - from long bus rides overnight, to slowly sipping a good black beer in a bar overlooking Cusco's main square, to doing a ton of walking everywhere, to marveling at the attitudes and acceptance of the people we met along the way. He has a very affable, easygoing way about him that was wonderful to have as a traveling companion to mediate my bad moods and to simply at times walk around the new places to observe and soak them in. We had very few moments of high stress on the trip.
And now to give you a little sense of what it was all like, I have a good treat: pictures!
After climbing back to the top of Colca, Nate and I decided it was time for a picture together. He is standing in a very classic Nate pose.
So, this picture is terrible because you can´t see my face, but wonderful for the view of the plaza in Arequipa and the mountains in the background. This view of the beautiful city comes from the top of the Jesuit church just off the plaza.
We just had to stop at one of the little houses with a red flag flying from it in a small pueblo about 30 minutes from Cusco to try the chicha. It is a very typical beverage which is alcoholic and made out of maize. Only thing that can be said for it - the second and third sip aren´t nearly as bad as the first.
The world famous condor with the view of Colca Canyon in the background. When we arrived, there were five or six and though they are quite majestic, I was a little underwhelmed. But shhh, don´t tell the Peruvians.
After we climbed to the top of the hill (it was quite high up and also had an amazing view) next to Curahuasi, I set my camera on auto and got a picture of us four trekkers together. The girl and the little kid are part of my host father´s family who so warmly embraced us in Cusco and Curahuasi.
So, to begin with the first T: Tragedy. Before I left for a two week trip during vacations, a very sad event occured in our neighborhood here in Habitat. There is a family of three who we as volunteers are very close to. The father, Martin, is a wonderful, McGyver-like, intelligent man who is our main source on Peruvian politics. He goes fishing to the beach with just a backpack of water and possibly some string and catches the bait for himself, and fishes almost all-night long in the water. His wife, Ediht, is the instructor for the step class that I go to regularly and a wonderful, though at times shy woman. She is a character as an aerobics instructor and like her husband and their son, very humble. The son, Jayson, had struggled his whole life with scoleosis (spelling¿) and if he had access to American medical care or was from a wealthier family, when he was young, it probably could have been corrected. As it turned out, his lungs were restricted because the curvature of his spine was so intense and it pained him to even walk the couple blocks to school. The school even moved his classroom down from the third floor because stairs were tough for him. Despite his problems, he was the best student in the school, was wonderful at English, and participated in almost every school event (including the month long service trip they do - mes de mision - where he helped cook and do other chores that he was able to).
The tragedy occured just before we left as Jayson became ill (first with a cold and a fever) and because of complications with his asthma and weak physical state, the illness developed into pneumonia and eventually took his life. To me, as to many, the rapidness with which this tragedy struck was stunning and I was left feeling empty and useless as I tried to process what had happened and also to support the family. The day after his death, his body was placed in the communal building for habitat and there was a all-afternoon and night vigil-wake. The next day they processed with the body to the church, held the funeral service, and then proceeded uptown to the cementary to bury him. Additionally, family and friends helped cook a large meal to serve to all those when they returned from the burial. To see the support and the coming together of the community to mourn and show their care for Jayson and his family was quite touching. For instance, the sudden costs of the treatment for the final days and then of the burial were quite overwhelming for Martin and Ediht, but after a collection was taken, the outpouring was more than enough.
A death is never an easy thing to experience, and for me it was one of my closest experiences with it. My maternal grandmother is the only real close friend or family member who has died in my life (there have been a few others, but none that I was particularly close to at the time of their passing), but I was in Colombia when that occurred and it was sort of a drawn out process with her weakening physical condition that it did not strike me in the same way. I still haven´t sat down and thought about all that I felt and saw (for instance, seeing Martin lead the pallbearers with his son´s body from the church is an image that will be etched in my mind for a long time), so I will keep thinking and writing about this probably.
A second tragedy (I promise, things get better with this one) was that half of my school, Santa Cruz, burned down. I found out early one Thursday morning during vacations that the estera (the bamboo-wood classrooms, which included the English classroom we had) had burned down in an overnight fire. I went to the school that morning to see the black and charred wreckage of about 8 or 9 classrooms. But immediately from the start there was hope as the local government officials arrived with many promises and there were bulldozers already on the scene ready to begin the work needed to make it ready for the start of school. When I returned this past Friday, I was standing in the entryway with the janitor-handyman and a hefty, important looking official arrived. He began to tell us how everything that was needed to complete the work was on its way and then he said goodbye. I later found out that that was the Mayor of Tacna and that the unfinished classrooms were being repaired and other prefabricated ones were going to go up this weekend to have the school ready to open tomorrow. I will see how it all turned out when I show up tomorrow, but the school could actually end up better than before vacation as these prefabricated rooms look better than the estera and they are finishing two of the cement ones as well. I heard that the news of this fire extended far across the country in the press and so the pressure was quite strong on the government to respond.
Phfewf, this is an epic one. Ok, on to Typhoid. Also in the beginning of vacations, I developed a very high fever one day (it reached up past 104 degrees) and had some extreme chills and weakness. When I went to the clinic, I had a blood test and the doctor noted that my white blood cell count was low (which I guess is not your body´s normal response to most viruses or infections - since it usually rises to fight the invader). The doctor called in the internist, who kind of did a whirlwind check and told me that I had Typhoid. In retrospect, his inspection was probably not thorough and they did not actually put me through the whole test for it (which at the time I didn´t know could be done). They did prescribe me some super strong antibiotics that I had to have injected into me with big needles (this kind nurse in our neighborhood came over to do it at night, though with the final injection, she had to stick me three times and cut up my arm a bit before she didn´t realize there was a piece of glass in the cotton that she was using to clean my arm - but let´s not harp on the bad, she was incredibly kind to me). Within a day, I didn´t have any more fever and I rested for the following four and a half days before going on my two week travels. I felt like I was ready to travel and was all fine, though a number of people expressed concerns to me that I should rest more. In retrospect, I had no issues during my travels and in general I think I probably had some sort of bacteria, but not typhoid (which does not start or go away that fast and is almost always accompanied by stomach troubles). But I will get a follow up blood test to make sure something else wacky is not going on, don´t worry.
Travels - so, I might expand on this later because I am feeling a bit tired out and my wrists hurt, but I will give it a short recap now. Nate and I visited the towns and cities of Urcos, Anadahuayllas to the south of Cusco, Cusco, Curahuasi to the west (where my host father is from and still has a lot of family), Arequipa (the white city) and Colca Canyon (which they say is longer and deeper than the grand canyon). All in all, we meet a wide range of incredible people who were very generous and incredibly welcoming. Whether it was the Jesuits in Urcos and in Arequipa or the more distant members of my host family in Curahuasi and Cusco, it was amazing how people accepted us into their homes and treated us as family without any second thoughts or complaints-grumblings. And because of this, I felt like I really got to know more of the country and definitely got to see some of its incredible views in the Andes of Curahuasi and Colca (where we saw some of the emblematic condors). I also got to see some guinea pig cooked, but through the whole process. In Curahuasi the kitchen area where we hung out and talked with the family was filled with them and one night they killed (by snapping the necks), dehaired, gutted, cleaned, filled with a stuffing and cooked eight of them. Even after seeing all the nastiness, they were still delicious.
Nate and I also got to bond and share a lot - from long bus rides overnight, to slowly sipping a good black beer in a bar overlooking Cusco's main square, to doing a ton of walking everywhere, to marveling at the attitudes and acceptance of the people we met along the way. He has a very affable, easygoing way about him that was wonderful to have as a traveling companion to mediate my bad moods and to simply at times walk around the new places to observe and soak them in. We had very few moments of high stress on the trip.
And now to give you a little sense of what it was all like, I have a good treat: pictures!
After climbing back to the top of Colca, Nate and I decided it was time for a picture together. He is standing in a very classic Nate pose.
So, this picture is terrible because you can´t see my face, but wonderful for the view of the plaza in Arequipa and the mountains in the background. This view of the beautiful city comes from the top of the Jesuit church just off the plaza.
We just had to stop at one of the little houses with a red flag flying from it in a small pueblo about 30 minutes from Cusco to try the chicha. It is a very typical beverage which is alcoholic and made out of maize. Only thing that can be said for it - the second and third sip aren´t nearly as bad as the first.
The world famous condor with the view of Colca Canyon in the background. When we arrived, there were five or six and though they are quite majestic, I was a little underwhelmed. But shhh, don´t tell the Peruvians.
After we climbed to the top of the hill (it was quite high up and also had an amazing view) next to Curahuasi, I set my camera on auto and got a picture of us four trekkers together. The girl and the little kid are part of my host father´s family who so warmly embraced us in Cusco and Curahuasi.
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