Going to Peru- how about you?

One-Year In

2009-09-12T11:15:00.000-05:00

Well, I never believed that I’d be able to say this, but I’ve been in Peru for a year. ONE YEAR. Somehow those two little words don’t begin to cover it. 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525,600 minutes- okay, no we’re getting somewhere. In any case, I promise that it’s a LONG TIME. Peru 9 is now home or traveling, Peru 10 is finishing their last couple of months, Peru 13 is already at site, and Peru 14 is here in country! I mention this because we recently received the Peace Corps Peru magazine, Pasa la Voz, which comes out every time a group closes their service (COS). Among other things, this magazine publishes the COS profiles of the leaving group. As I read through the Peru 9 COS profiles I thought about all of the things that I hope I’ll be able to say in mine. A few of those things have already happened, but the vast majority have not- time to kick my butt in gear. Also, I noticed how nostalgic Peru 9 was already, and it reminded me that we only have two years to do this out of our whole lives, and while it’s hard sometimes, we have to take advantage of every minute. I thought I’d be jealous that Peru 9 gets to go home, but I found myself feeling sorry for them. Their Peace Corps service WAS. Mine IS. I still get up every day with the distinct possibility that something absolutely unbelievable or amazing or inspiring is going to happen to me that has never happened before (this is true in the States too, of course, but I think probability is on my side here). I still live the “simple” life that people in the States dream about as they run around in their crazy lives. I still live with the other PCVs, who are the only other people who will ever understand this thing that I’m doing. I’m still experiencing the stories that I’ll be telling for the rest of my life. Really, I’m the lucky one. Still, I thought it would be interesting to write my own one-year profile. A year from now I’ll be writing for Pasa la Voz. I wonder how much will have changed?
1. What’s the best compliment you’ve received?
a. I was at Machu Picchu with my parents and I was annoyed at our guide. He spoke English, but I spoke to him in Spanish to let him know that I understood the snide comments he was making to his friends. I walked away. He turned to my dad and asked where I learned Spanish. My dad said that I lived in Peru, and he said, “Ah, I thought she sounded Peruvian.”
2. What’s the strangest thing that’s happened to you on a combi?
a. Once while I was getting on a combi I clipped my Achilles heel on some rusty piece of metal sticking out from somewhere. I was so shocked watching the blood pour from my heel and pool in my shoe that I forgot to get off at my stop. By the time I finally yelled, “baja!” I had no idea where I was. I had to call Mike, my sitemate, to come find me and bring bandages because I was trailing blood through the street.
3. What’s the best gift you’ve received from a Peruvian?
a. Robyn and I were admiring earrings at a restaurant where we sometimes go for menu, and the lady who owns it gave us each a pair!
4. The most interesting thing that’s fallen on your head?
a. I was at Jessi’s, from the health post, birthday party and a snake fell from the ceiling onto my head as I was sitting eating lunch. I jumped up very quickly, and Manuel valiantly came over to kill it. It wasn’t a huge snake, but it was big enough.
5. What keeps you sane in site?
a. Writing. Whenever I feel like I just can’t do it anymore I sit down and write an e-mail or a blog. Afterwards my life seems okay again. Also Daniela, my 10-month-old host niece. She can always make me smile.
6. Peruvian custom you enjoy?
a. Kissing people hello and goodbye. It’s such a nice greeting.
7. Favourite Peruvian holiday?
a. My birthday (the day of Santa Rosa de Lima)! Claro. But if not that then New Years. Nothing says, “this year is gonna rock” like stuffing a life-sized effigy full of fireworks, lighting it on fire, and watching the ensuing explosions chase children down the street.
8. Biggest Success?
a. So far? My host family talks to me and appears to actually like me. It took me 6 full months for my host mom to respond to anything I said to her.
9. Biggest language blunder?
a. When my host family in training asked about my religion, I said, “Soy Quaker.” I meant that I am a Quaker- you know- the Society of Friends? It came across as a combination of “me cae Quaker,” which is, “it was really awkward,” and “I worship a breakfast cereal.” My host dad laughed so hard that he nearly fell over.
10. Favourite place in Peru?
a. Peru is full of magical places. Nonetheless, as cliché as is may be, I pick Machu Picchu. There’s a reason it’s one of the 7 wonders of the world.
11. Why do you love your site?
a. Because my host family lives there. Also because there are wild parrots and at least four types of hummingbirds that live outside my house. Plus it’s almost always sunny and I love how unbelievably neon green freshly planted rice can be.
12. What do you love/hate about Lima?
a. I love all of the food, the fact that there are always other volunteers around, Tania, and the cliffs by Larco Mar. I hate the traffic and the fact that it takes forever to get anywhere! Also, I’ll admit it, when I’m in Lima I miss cumbia.
13. Craziest health problem:
a. This one time, some jerk dragged me down the street behind his mototaxi because he wanted my wallet and broke my pelvis.
14. Best comment by a Peruvian child:
a. Child, “Sarah, do you hate children?”
b. Me, “No! Of course not!”
c. Child, “Then why don’t you have any?”
15. What was the most useful thing you learned in training?
a. How to eat rice like it was going out of style.
16. Favourite/least-favourite Peruvian dish:
a. Favourite: CEVICHE, chupe de langostino, anticucho, ají de langostino, crema de ají on anything
b. Least favourite: Lomo saltado, sudado de pescado, pork laced with triquina
17. First meal you’re going to have in the States: Pork green chili burrito with good beer and the biggest fresh salad of my life.
18. How many cell phones/ bank cards did you lose?
a. Lost my cell phone at Reconnect, and, as Karrie puts it, was “violently separated” from my bank card during the mototaxi incident.
19. What do people in your site consider your strangest behavior?
a. Drinking cold drinks when I have a cold, reading, eating raw vegetables.
20. What was the weirdest Peruvian remedy that actually worked?
a. My host mom told me to put rubbing alcohol on a super-swollen ant bite that I had. It stopped the itching immediately!

The link you´ve all been waiting for...

2009-02-21T12:56:00.000-05:00

(Even if you didn’t know it).

So yes, I am a professional promoting health in rural Peru. However, let’s not forget that I’m also a 24-year-old kid far from home. So, to add some fun to our lives, Sarita, Robyn, and I made an amusing music video. I did all of the choreography and directing, Robyn did all of the editing, and Sarita was a rock-star with the acting. The whole thing was filmed in our three sites. Yes, Sarita’s site is on the beach. She is super-lucky. So, go ahead, laugh at me: I promise it’s funny.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCQKTQFZwsw

My new life

2009-02-21T12:55:00.001-05:00

Hi everyone,

I’m very sorry that I’ve been totally neglecting my blog as of late. I’ve been a little down because I’ve been pretty sick, and so I wasn’t feeling too inspired to write. Peace Corps also recommends that we write in our journals on bad days and on our blogs on good days. So today I had a good day.

Let’s see- I’ll start with my work. I’ve actually been doing work, so that’s a wonderful start. My first month and a half was devoted mostly to healing from my injury, and getting a handle on living in Malval. I guess I didn’t realize just how outgoing I was going to have to be. The day I arrived in Malval I knew no one, had no fixed plans, and had no deadlines. Everyone in town already had fulfilling lives without me. My job was to poke around and try to find a space for myself, and eventually for my projects. That’s a pretty tall order, especially for someone who gets exhausted talking to people she doesn’t know well, in English, in the United States.

Anyway, towards the end of January things finally started to fall into place. I spent a couple of days writing a 47 question encuesta (survey) to be implemented with 100 mothers in Malval who have children less than three years of age. (This is because children under three are a vulnerable population, and because most of the mental development takes place before a child is five, and so there is still some time to intervene.) The questions cover many aspects of health including the material of which the house is made, if there are animals living in the house, if there is a latrine, if they purify the drinking water, if the mother breastfed, what the nutrition of the child is like, if the child is vaccinated, if the child has recently been sick, if the family exercises, if the mother has ever had a pap-smear or breast exam, if the couple uses birth control, the level of education of the parents, if they think HIV/AIDS is a problem in Malval, etc. The encuesta has two main goals. The first is collect information about the state of health in the community that may guide my choice of a primary project, and will at the very least familiarize me with some of the challenges and opportunities of health in Malval. The second goal is to get me out into the community; meeting people and walking around.

It turns out that 100 is an awful lot of encuestas. I solicited the help of the local health promoters to help me with them, and so far we’ve completed 60. I hope to complete the remaining 40 before the first week of March, but that’s going to be a big stretch.

In addition to the encuestas, I’ve been coordinating with my local health post to collaborate on their projects. The town nurse, Darwin, and I have plans to work with the schools during the school year on a Peru-wide program called “Escuelas Saludables” (Healthy Schools), and we are also going to train the health promoters on various subjects. I’m in charge of the sessions on diarrhea and upper respiratory infections in children, nutrition, and basic first aid.

Additionally, Peace Corps Peru won a small grant from PEPFAR (former President Bush’s HIV/AIDS relief plan) to work on HIV/AIDS prevention in four departments in Peru, including Tumbes. We had our first meeting launching the program in December, and in March we are going to have meeting to elaborate our work plan for the year. I’m very excited about this initiative because Tumbes is at a point where the HIV/AIDS infection rate is not astronomically high, but has the potential to become so. Thus, it is the perfect time to intervene with an education program that could potentially have a very positive impact, and prevent Peru from ever looking like Botswana (well, it’s going to take a lot more than just the Peace Corps to do that, but we can be a part of it). Also, we met with a doctor last Friday who wants to do research in the area about HTLV, which is another scary STI that I didn’t even know existed. His research sounds quite interesting, and he has asked us to help out.
Aside from health things, I also started a small English club. I didn’t want to teach English here (for many reasons- ask me if you like), but the kids just begged and begged me. I eventually decided that if nothing else, it would be a great way to get to know some of the kids. It is. Almost all of the kids in Malval know me now, as do most of the kids in my caserios. More often than not I’ll be walking down a road I’ve never been on before, a couple of miles from my house, and I group of children who I’ve never seen will run passed me yelling, “Hello Sarah!” It’s pretty cute.

As for Tumbes and Malval- they’re growing on me. It’s the rainy season now, and so it rains every night (strangely it just started to rain as I typed that sentence). That means that everything is green and blooming. It’s quite beautiful. There are also all kinds of tropical birds that have come out of hiding. I’ve seen four different types of hummingbirds and wild parrots! Unfortunately the mosquitoes are also out of hiding. At 6pm tonight I put Deet all over my exposed skin. By 7:30pm I had five bites on my back underneath my shirt! Not fair! I wouldn’t be too worried except that both malaria and dengue are endemic here. I’m taking malaria medication and I sleep under a mosquito net, but dengue is scary…

I’ve been making a point to go out hiking around my town, and it’s been wonderful. Saul, my host nephew, knows the names of all of the plants and birds, and often goes with me. Last week he took me fishing as well! My town is surrounded on one side by hills that are strangely reminiscent of parts of the American Southwest, and on the other side by banana and rice fields. There’s also a canal that runs through town that is now home to three crocodiles!

So, that’s a bit of a glimpse into my life as of now. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to e-mail me. Sometimes I forget how much my life has changed in the past five months (I know, I’ve been here five whole months!!), and so I unknowingly leave out important details. Plus, one of the goals of the Peace Corps is to educate Americans about life abroad. That means me, yes, but also you. Take advantage and ask me questions! Also, please don’t forget to update me on your lives as well. I still care, and I still miss you.

Love,
Sarah

Rain

2009-02-01T11:29:00.001-05:00

The sound of the rain on my roof is deafening. It’s not raining very hard, I’d say it’s raining steadily, but my metal roof amplifies the sound. Not to mention that water is pouring off the gap in my roof and into the gutter right outside my door. It sounds like I’m living behind a waterfall. There’s even a steady drip, drip of the leak in my ceiling. When I look up I see that there’s a whole in my roof that was covered by cardboard. The cardboard is not enough tonight. I’ll have to remember not to leave my laptop there later.

I think it’s interesting that in the United States we associate rain with sadness and melancholy. Here, I associate rain with life.

As you may have guessed, it’s the rainy season here in Tumbes. It rains every day, but not all day. In fact, in almost exclusively rains at night. Each morning I get up to a world of mud and puddles and frogs jumping between the two, but to a sun shining brightly in the sky.

Tumbes has been transformed into a jungle of green. Although we technically live in the dry forest, this part of Tumbes is very close to the jungle. Just to the north, near the mangroves, is the only place on the continent where the jungle reaches the Pacific Ocean. These days, you can really tell how close we are. The air is filled with the songs of tropical birds, and beautiful flowers seem to be bursting from the trees. I saw a flock of wild parrots in my front yard.

A month ago the soccer fields of Tumbes were dust bowls. Now they are covered in grass. When no one is kicking around a ball, horses, donkeys, and cows graze there. It’s clear that they need it. You can see their ribs shining through their coats of fur, but now, finally there is food. Tumbes has come alive.

Of course, if the rain continues for too long there could be death. The damp, humid climate is a haven for upper respiratory disease, and the numbers of sick children at the health post has skyrocketed. The puddles of rain breed mosquitoes, and with them come bouts of malaria and dengue. Worse yet, the river could flood and kill all of the crops. It’s happened before, setting Malval up for a rough year of poverty.

But for now, the rain is beautiful, and a welcome break from the heat. Let’s just hope that we don’t get too much of a good thing.

Firsts

2009-01-05T21:15:00.002-05:00

On this first day of the first month of a new year, it seems appropriate to take a moment to reflect on all of the firsts I've experienced since coming to Peru.

Since September 12, 2008:

I've had my first bite of goat, beef heart, cow stomach, black sea scallop, granadilla, maracuya, aji, rocoto, Sublime, and ceviche.

I rode in my first combi, mototaxi, bus-cama, and car trunk (sans seats).

I had my first experience in black market clothing design.

I heard my first Grupo 5 song (and have heard at least five a day since then).

I was "semi-violently robbed" for the first time.

I accepted my first "paying" job for the US government.

I took my first sip of SODIS water.

I went skinny-dipping for the first time.

I went to my first Latin American baptism, Peruvian birthday party, Chosica anniversary, Andean horse race, and Tumbes fair.

I spent my first Christmas away from home.

In order to continue this tradition of stretching my boundaries and trying new things, I brought in the New Year with two more firsts: My first New Year's in Peru, and also my first quinceñeras.

I'll start with the New Year. As much as I felt I'd rather spend Christmas in the US than here, the opposite is true of New Year's Eve. Here is a recipe for a New Year's Party in Tumbes, Peru:

Ingredients:

Yellow underwear

Yellow balloons and streamers

Beer

The biggest loudspeakers you can find

More beer

Cumbia music

A life size paper-mache doll stuffed with newspaper and fireworks.

More fireworks.

Directions:

Set temperature to around 95 degrees.
Don yellow underwear. It will bring you luck in the New Year, and if you end up passed out in the street drunk passerbys might have a chance to, umm, check.
Hang yellow balloons and streamers everywhere; all around where you'll have the party, all across the streets, off light posts. Turn the town into a sea of yellow.
Set up speakers, and at dusk, start blasting cumbia at maximum volume. No worries if you only have a few songs; it is perfectly acceptable to blast the same five songs for at least 12 hours straight. Make sure your sound system can school your neighbor's.
Start drinking.
When you get bored of drinking, set off fireworks.
Drink more.
Give the fireworks to kids.
Drink more.
At exactly midnight, set the doll on fire in the street.
Run away.
Dodge fireworks shooting at random from the burning doll.
Hug and kiss everyone you see and wish them a "Feliz Año."
Go back to drinking.

Note: The burning doll is not an effigy, despite its appearance, but is rather a symbolic burning of the old year.

Christmas in Peru

2009-01-05T21:08:00.002-05:00

It has been harder than I expected to spend the holidays away. There's a reason why it's such a special time of year, and it's not fun to miss, especially when you are as blessed as I am to have such wonderful family and friends. Yesterday in Tumbes, for example, I started crying when a vendor wouldn't take my 10 sol bill because it had a tear. Not the sort of thing that should unglue me on a normal day, but it was Christmas Eve. I was in that sort of state- emotionally fragile, sentimental, a little down- until sunset. Sunset made everything worse. I was imagining a crisp, cold, night looking out over quiet, white snow, and I just couldn't imagine that Santa would ever make it down to a place where his reindeer would have to compete with mosquitoes for a place to fly. Luckily, around 8pm I struck a deal with myself- I could be melancholy and homesick, or I could take advantage of the fact that I was about to spend a holiday that many people never spend outside their own families outside my entire culture. I surrendered to my sense of wonderment, and since then have only cried once.

In Peru Christmas is celebrated at midnight on Christmas Eve, and from what I can tell, it's not as big a deal as Christmas is in the States. Yes, 25 relatives came over for dinner, and yes, the children have been hyper for days, but the sense of Christmas spirit that seems to sparkle off the snow in Colorado and Vermont just seemed dampened. The only sparkle I saw last night was the sweat glistening off of my face, because even the Peruvians were complaining that it was one of the hottest Christmas nights in history.

Anyways, let me back up a bit. The night before Christmas Eve was my first sense that Christmas really was approaching here in Peru. Sure, there's a Christmas tree in my house and lights flashing across the street, but those things have been up since I got here (December 1^st), and everything here is so foreign that I wouldn't faze me to see Christmas decorations in July. It's been getting hotter and sunnier by the day, I haven't worn closed-toed shoes in a month, and I keep ending up at the beach. Not to mention that there are no recognizable Christmas tunes here, and the television does not play endless reruns of The Grinch. There's been nothing to trigger my senses and remind me that it's Christmas- not even a single candy cane.

The night before Christmas Eve, however, all of the women in my house were camped out in the open space outside my room preparing canastas. Canastas are food baskets, and they are the typical gift for Peruvian Christmas. The canastas actually make a lot of sense. The central part of the canasta is the Paneton. Paneton is Peru's version of a fruitcake, and in my humble opinion, it is disgusting. Talking to other PCVs it seems that Paneton is either one of those things you love or hate. It's hard to be neutral towards Paneton. Besides the Paneton, the canastas contain useful food items- milk, oil, noodles, and the like. I like that. Imagine how different Christmas in the states would be if we gave flour, sugar, and eggs instead of the latest electronics. Different. So anyway, I sat down and helped tie ribbon onto the canastas for the workers of El Molino, where almost everyone in my host family is employed.

My grandmother in the States (Grandma Sheep) sent me an instant Christmas package. You know those pill like things that you put in hot water and turn into sponges? Yeah, those. So, on Christmas Eve day I rounded up 5-year olds Isaac and Sarai (my host nephew and his cousin) and had them celebrate instant Christmas with me. They thought it was bien chevere, and they proudly carried around their sponges for the rest of the day. This did not change the fact, however, that Isaac still refuses to call me anything but "la gringa" no matter how many times I tell him my name. Sigh. Poco a poco.

That was my only Christmas celebration until sundown. At 8pm they set up giant speakers in the town plaza and started blasting cumbia. Peru is not known for its musical variety. Each section of the country picks its music and sticks to it. Ours is cumbia and Grupo 5. So, the same five songs were blasted in succession from 8pm until 8am at a volume so loud that it impeded conversation inside our house, at least 100 meters away from the plaza. In any case, all of the families went outside and listened to the music. The men stayed outside and formed drinking circles. The women went inside to cook. All of the boys in the town under the age of 10 started playing with fire, or rather fireworks. I watched with half amusement and half horror as they would light a fire-spouting thing, run like mad, realize the thing had malfunctioned, and send the smallest among them back to poke it and see what had gone wrong.

At around 10pm my Argentinean brother-in-law started grilling. At 11:30 he handed me a piece of meat. That's to say, he handed me a bone that was still so hot it burned my hand, and I got to gnaw the meat off of it. I don't even like meat very much, as most of you know, and here there are so many volunteers who never get meat at all, I feel that something went wrong that I ended up in a site where I eat questionable cuts of meat every day. Anyways, that was the appetizer. At midnight exactly everyone got up and kissed each other and said Merry Christmas. It was kinda like New Year's in the States. That I liked. Then around quarter to one we all sat down to eat. The main meal was turkey, spaghetti noodles with no sauce, and a potato salad, with Pepsi. For dessert we had Paneton (duh) and hot chocolate. That's as basic as candy canes and Christmas cookies to us. For the sake of the holiday I choked down the Paneton, and it turns out that it really is better dipped in hot chocolate.

The kids were supposed to be able to open their present (each child gets one) at midnight, but every single one of them was passed out asleep. So, we hung out for awhile more, and then around 2am everyone left. As each person left he/she got a gift from my host mom/sister. I got a purple tank top that says "Beach Place Paradise." Good times. I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but everything felt wrong. I know I'm supposed to do things the Peruvian way now, but I'm still American. And so, in the privacy of my room and under the blanket of the cumbia that was still blasting through town, I stood alone in my room and belted out my favourite Christmas carols at the top of my lungs. I was okay until I got to Silent Night, and that's when I started to cry.

Well, I'm sure the reindeer didn't like it, but Santa Claus did indeed make it to Malval, Peru. I woke up this morning to an embarrassingly large pile of presents underneath my fan (I love Christmas trees, but here I'd trade one for a fan ANY DAY), and a stocking hung by my electric plug with care. To all of you who sent me presents and cards- I don't even know how to say thank you. I was so unbelievably touched. What struck me the most was how much thought and care obviously went into each gift, picture, card, and word. I felt so loved, so understood, and so lucky. Thank you. (I will elaborate on how amazing you are in my thank you notes, so stay tuned.)

After I opened gifts I slipped on my new beach tank top and headed to the beach to meet Sarita and Robyn. I mean, if you're gonna spend a Christmas drenched in sweat, you might as well do it right. Plus, Peruvian Christmas is nice for lonely American Peace Corps vols because Christmas day is not a big deal. So, we can be with our families at night, and then take care of our sanity by being together for the day. So, I'll let my pictures do most of the talking, but we had a wonderful day. I had ceviche for lunch with a dessert of salt water as I was dragged out to sea by the undertow formed by beautiful cresting waves. I got to be with my new family and my support. We also spent the day calling around the country to wish the other PCVs a happy day. It was great to hear the voices of so many new amazing friends. And for all of the differences from Tumbes to Piura to Cajamarca to Ancash to Ica, we all felt remarkably the same: a little homesick, a little fascinated, and more than anything a little relieved. The day was over, and we had survived what was for most of us our first Christmas away.

A selfish list:

2008-12-17T09:32:00.001-05:00

If you feel like sending me a package, here are some things that are currently on my wish-list:

Pictures of you!!
Orbit gum (any kind of mint, bubblemint, and cinnamint)
Glide comfort plus mint dental floss
Gummi candy (especially the fizzy kind)
Ginger chews
Reef flip-flops (size 9 women’s)
Chocolate
The New York Times (or at least the interesting parts)
Newsweek
The Economist
Interesting academic articles
Dried fruit/nuts
Cute tank tops! (you’ll have to guess at my size, every brand is different)
Knee length skirts or capris (size 8 or M)
A travel yoga mat
Tea- good black tea, peppermint tea, jasmine tea

I’ll try to keep this list updated on the side of my blog. A big shout out to Blair and Jeff who have set me up with tampons and peanut butter at least for awhile. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

My address:

Sarah Walker
Casilla Postal #5
Serpost Tumbes
Peru

I also love mail!

SODIS

2008-12-14T16:21:00.000-05:00

SODIS (Simply Outstanding Demonstration of (I)nvironmental Savvy)
SODIS (Sarah Ousts Damaging Infections from System)
SODIS (Sick Of Diarrhea In Stomach)
SODIS (Some Outsider’s DoIng Something strange (again))

Translated into Spanish:

WTGDOMR (What’s That Gringo Doing On My Roof?)
Or

INDT (I’m Not Drinking That)

What does SODIS mean really? I don’t remember (sorry Peace Corps!). However, that doesn’t matter. SODIS can still save the world. You do the math:

One of the most common causes of death in children under five is diarrhea.
+
Diarrhea comes from parasitic, bacterial, and viral infections.
+
Most of these infections come from drinking unclean water.
+
Much of the world does not have access to clean drinking water.
-
You can purify water by boiling it.
+
Boiling water is expensive and bad for the environment.
-
You can purify water by adding iodine or chlorine.
+
Iodine and chlorine are expensive, and often cities say they add it when they don’t.
=
BIG CLEAN WATER PROBLEM = SODIS.

SODIS is an easy, effective, and cheap way to purify water that uses nothing more than the sun to get rid of the harmful critters that cause diarrhea.

Steps for SODIS:

Take a 2- 3 litre clear, plastic bottle.
Fill it ALL THE WAY up with water (leave no room for air).
Screw on the top.
Put it on your (preferably metal) roof.
If it’s sunny, leave it out for a day.
If it’s cloudy, leave it out for 2-3 days.
Take it off the roof and enjoy water without diarrhea!

The other great thing about SODIS is that it works best in hot climates with plenty of sunlight. Much of the world’s poor lives in such a climate. I’ve been drinking SODIS water for three days now, and so far so good. I’ll keep you posted.

What's in a name?

2008-12-07T08:45:00.000-05:00

My name, in the United States, is about as common as they come: Sarah Anne Walker. I’ve never been anywhere where I’m the only Sarah. I’m one of four here in Peru 12. There are over 500 Sarah Walkers on facebook. Whose middle name isn’t Anne? And yet, here in Peru, my name seems to be a source of endless confusion.

First of all, there’s my first name. Sarah. Spanish doesn’t do silent letters. There is only one way to spell Sarah and that is Sara. It doesn’t bother me too much here, although in the States it really bothers me when people misspell my name. I don’t feel like a Sara, I feel like a Sarah. But here, when you add the whole Spanish thing, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

Then there’s my last name: Walker. Yes, there’s only one. Everyone here has two last names. Your dad’s last name goes first, and then your mom’s (I think, I always get it mixed up). Your kids will inherit your dad’s last name and your spouse’s dad’s last name. So, my name would be Sarah Walker Baker. My kids’ names would be Baby Walker Weiner (kidding Andrew :P), but you get the idea. No one here can believe that I only have one last name. I even had someone tell me that it was disrespectful to my mother not to carry her name. Interesting observation, although I feel like maybe the pot is calling the kettle black on that one.

The really confusing thing though, is my middle name. The problem is not Anne, but its placement. My passport says Sarah Anne Walker. Thus, it looks like my first name is Sarah and my last name is Anne Walker. So, people would either call me Sarah Anne Walker, or Sarah Anne. Never Sarah Walker. As you’ll remember, I tried to explain this to the policeman writing my denuncia to no avail, and now in the Peruvian justice system I am Sarah AMN Walker. Sigh.

This naming confusion came to a head this morning at the bank. I had to get more money to pay for my hotel. My bank card is cancelled and in the hands of criminals. So, I had the brilliant idea to change travelers’ checks. Fine, except that when I got to the bank they refused to change them. Why? Because my checks say Sarah Walker, and my passport says Sarah Anne Walker. No amount of my pleading or explaining of the cultural differences between Peru and the USA would convince them that these two were really the same person. Only after it emerged that I was robbed and after a couple of tears slid down my cheeks did they decide it would be okay for me to take money out of my account, but I never did change those travelers’ checks.

Peru is Beautiful

2008-12-05T10:13:00.000-05:00

Yesterday at sunset I found myself speeding down the Pan-American highway, 3 degrees south of the equator, riding shotgun in the Peace Corps mobile with our country director at the wheel. To my right I watched the large orange sun sink into the breaking waves of Peru's best surfing beaches. To my left I looked out over miles of healthy green rice fields dotted with palm trees and waterfowl. Ahead I saw a group of panicking goats trying frantically to jump over the guard rails before our vehicle barreled into their midst. In the distance was a series of desert hills and canyons that called to mind the American Southwest.

I've grown to appreciate moments such as these because a) I'm in Peru and should appreciate every moment and b) my life this past week has been so crazy that all I can do is focus on the moments themselves.

Here are some moments from my past week:

Thursday, Thanksgiving: My first bite of anticucho (beef heart). My host family took me out to dinner in Lima for our last night together. They ordered an amazing spread of food and drink, and were very excited for me to try this Peruvian delicacy. It's delicious. Their kindness and reflecting on all they've done for me since I came to Peru made this one of my best Thanksgiving's ever.

Friday: Standing in front of the American, Peruvian, and Peace Corps flags under a canopy of red, white, and blue, swearing to defend the constitution in times of peace and war. A strange oath for the Peace Corps indeed. I would have been much more unsettled had we not just elected a leader I trust to never make me uphold that promise unjustly.

Later on Friday: Looking out the bus window through a veil of tears, watching our host families chase after us as we pulled out of Chaclacayo for the last time.

Saturday: On the bus-cama, feeling horrible. Packing was rushed and messy, our night in the hostal in Lima was hectic, and the time to say goodbye to our new friends and support came all too soon. I felt sick, drained, and exhausted. Suddenly I looked out the window. We were driving along some of the most striking sand-dune cliffs falling into the ocean. I'd never seen anything quite like it. All five of us on the bus looked out the window in awe.

Sunday: What I remember most is my gaze fixed on my wallet. My wallet was in my hand, but my arm was in the hand of a thief, who was in a mototaxi that accelerated faster and faster as I ran along side it. I don't remember letting go, and I don't remember falling.

Monday: I hung up my mosquito net with dental floss because I didn't think to bring rope. I sort-of unpacked my things. I crawled into bed and felt cozy within my white mesh canopy. Finally, after 6 months of being largely transient, I was home again.

Tuesday: I was watching a new soap opera, "Bellezas Indominables" with my new host sister. During a commercial break, she asks if I have children. I'm used to this conversation. "No," I say. "Are you going to get married?" she asks. "I don't know," I say, "Are you?" "I don't know," she says, "Only if I find the right guy." What?? Only if I find the right guy? That's never the answer in this conservative country. I think I'm really going to like this girl.

Wednesday: I go on a walk around Malval and see a bunch of guys working in a field. I walk over to them. They are packaging freshly harvested organic bananas on their way to the USA. Cool!!

Thursday: At a meeting launching our Tumbes-wide HIV/AIDS education initiative sponsored by PEPFAR. A mayor stands up and says, "You know, I think it's really all about the youth. I mean, young people don't go to their parents, their teachers, or their health posts to talk about sex. They go to their peers. So, we need to reach out to their peers." Yes!! Yes!! Yes!!

This morning: Woke up with a start. I had a terrible nightmare that Huascaran was destroyed by a volcanic eruption and almost everyone was killed. I was so happy to wake up and find it wasn't true. I rolled over and switched on the TV, CNN in English. Where am I? Not Malval, that's for sure. I'm in Piura. I have a doctor's appointment today to get my leg checked out. Just want to make sure that there'll be no lasting damage before I start this Peace Corps thing for real.

Things the US could learn from Peru.

2008-11-23T13:16:00.000-05:00

So, the more time I spend in this fabulous country, the more I realize that there are some things that Peru just really does right. I’m starting a list of them here so that you entrepreneur-types in the United States can think about starting them there as well.

1. The bus-cama. This is the two-story bus that makes the 9-20 hour trips from Lima into the various departments. First of all, the bus-cama travels at night. This means that you don’t have to waste 14 hours of your day traveling just to check into a hotel. The bus-cama is your personal, traveling hotel. Bus-cama’s have huge, padded, comfortable seats. Think about first class on an airplane. These seats recline nearly 180 degrees, and each comes with a pillow, a blanket, and a firm barrier between you and your neighbor. One boards a bus-cama a little before dinner time. A nice bus-cama attendant serves dinner, and then puts on a movie. After the movie the lights go out, and everyone goes to bed. The next morning the bus-cama wakes you up to music and serves breakfast before putting on another movie. At the end of the second movie you’ve arrived. Beats airplanes every time, let me tell you.
2. French fries inside hamburgers. Yup, inside, not on the side. It’s delicious. Try it if you don’t believe me.
3. Smothering everything in aji. Aji is made from spicy peppers, but is even more delicious than salsa. It goes with everything, except maybe ice cream.
4. Siestas. From 1pm-3pm it is too hot in Tumbes to do anything. So, people take cold showers and sleep. Makes sense to me.
5. Sharing food. Almost all meals here are ordered to share. All beers are ordered to share. If you buy a pack of cookies, you split them up so everyone can share. Everyone shares everything. It’s a nice change.
6. Kissing on the cheek as a greeting and a goodbye. This is a very personal gesture. It lets people into your bubble and shows that you care about them. It’s also a great way to make sure you personal greet everyone in a room or a group. There’s none of this waving your hand and saying “see ya!” Every time you get together you’ll be sure to kiss everyone hi and goodbye. I honestly think that this has helped me get to know even the other Peace Corps volunteers better because I’ve had to take just this small moment to personally recognize each one when we are hanging out in a large group. It’s also made me much more aware of how often each male volunteer shaves… When someone shakes my hand now it feels so cold. It actually feels like they are holding up their hand to block me out of their space and keep me away. Don’t be surprised if I come back home kissing you all.
7. Covering unexpected things in chocolate. My personal favourite here are saltine crackers covered in chocolate- called Choko- Sodas. May not sound great, but they are. Another good one is chocolate-covered graham crackers, and of course, there’s the chocolate covered Pisco.
8. “Amanecer-ing” a party. This means partying all night long until the sun comes up. It is par-for-the-course for many parties here. Parties that should be amancer-ed include, but are not limited to: baptisms, all birthdays, weddings, town anniversaries, and all holidays. Everyone amanecer-s a party, not just the under-thirties.

To be continued…

My site!

2008-11-23T13:14:00.000-05:00

Hi guys. Sorry that I haven’t written in awhile. Two weeks ago I finally got to go to the place where I’ll be spending the next two years. My site is Malval, Tumbes, and it’s going to be a great time.

Tumbes is the smallest department in Peru, and also the farthest North on the coast. We joke that it’s really Peace Corps Ecuador, but apparently we should be careful about that because much of Tumbes was once disputed territory, and it’s still a sore subject. I found that out the hard way when I asked my host dad, “Tumbes was part of Ecuador until the 1940s- right?” He gave me an impassioned lecture about how Tumbes has always been part of Peru, but the Ecuadorans didn’t think so and so we had to have a war to sort it out, but it had ALWAYS been part of Peru. Okay, okay.

Tumbes is famous for its beaches and its seafood. Are you feeling sorry for me yet? Just during the five or so days I was in Tumbes I had amazing ceviche twice, shrimp chowder, a shrimp aji curry, some sort of white fish, and fried seafood. The main jobs in Tumbes are fishing and growing rice, bananas, and mangoes. Right now is the beginning of mango season, so you can think of me gorging on mangoes too once I get back to site.

Malval is a community of 1200 people about 20 minutes south-east of Tumbes the city. (The capital of Tumbes is Tumbes). I will be working with the health post there, which serves Malval and the surrounding casarillos, for a total of 4000 people. Malval is also about 20 minutes from the beach. It’s about 1.5 hours from Mancora, which is one of the most famous beaches in Peru.

I got a great reception from the health post staff in Malval. They all seem very nice and motivated to work, and they seem excited to work with me for the next two years. Unfortunately, my host family was not there during my site visit, so although I’ve been to my house, I still don’t know my family.

Tumbes is very hot and tropical. My site is flat and hot. Did I mention that it’s hot? That’s pretty much what I know so far. Obviously I will gather more and more information as I live there for two years. I’ll keep you updated.

Election Reflections

2008-11-07T17:25:00.000-05:00

You can not imagine how proud I feel of our country today. For the first time in my politically active career I got behind a cause I believed in, and so did the United States. It’s been different though, to witness this historic moment from far away. I felt both more connected to and more distanced from the election, and in ways I never would have imagined.

We missed out on a lot of election buildup here in Peru. I haven’t seen a McCain ad since August, I missed Michelle Obama coming to Colorado, and I’ve never seen Sarah Palin on Saturday Night Live (the computers here aren’t fast enough to stream it). I think I’ve read less than five New York Times editorials urging people to vote.

On the other hand, I experienced a different kind of election buildup. The first night with my host family my host dad eagerly asked if I was voting for Obama. He asked, with true puzzlement, how the American people had managed to elect Bush in 2004. I felt a constant need to make excuses for my country and to distance myself from it. This is especially difficult in Peru because Peruvians are very proud of where they are from. If a Peruvian is born in Piura, for example, and moves to Lima at age two- he is a Piuran forever. Even sometimes if his parents are Piuran this would apply. Here you can never shake your identity- for better or for worse.

It was fun to share the election with my Peruvian friends too. My language class spent hours explaining the difference between Democrats and Republicans to my language teacher. When I got my absentee ballot, I poured over it with my host brother, who couldn’t believe that there were actually 16 people on the ballot for president. My host family probably became more politically informed than your average American as I gave a daily countdown to and explanation of the election. Yesterday our Peruvian facilitators and trainers were just as excited as we were, and my APCD offered words and hope that the American people come to their senses and make good decisions (basically).

The buildup wasn’t all pro-Obama, however. There was one store in downtown Chaclacayo that posted a hand made sign outside the door that said, “Jhon McCain (not a type-o, that’s how it was spelled) is very, very good. Vote for McCain” in English. Several volunteers talked to them. They couldn’t believe that a white person would vote for a black person, and expressed regret that we didn’t believe the KKK would kill Obama. Yesterday the sign changed to read simply, “McCain, President.” Today is said, “Congratulations to Hussein, the president of America.” I’m never shopping there again.

Yesterday here was tense. The day seemed to go on eternally, and we weren’t getting ANY news. Back in the States I would have probably been volunteering all day, and I would have had the opportunity to read the mood all day. I did check my e-mail in the morning here (I COULDN’T stay away), but it was early, and it only made the contrast with the eerie lack of information later in the day greater. I must say, I was homesick. I kept having flashbacks to 2004- especially to the night before the election and the electricity I felt. Tommy, I missed you most of all, and I was dying to hear how you were doing.

Peru 12 had big plans for election night. We have a restaurant in Chaclacayo that we often frequent, mostly because it is big enough and usually empty enough to hold us all. We made a deal with them for election night: if they stayed open and showed CNN in English, we would bring 48 customers. The deal was done.

Of the 48 Peace Corps aspirantes, I believe all but three voted blue. We had a great time watching the results come in. We watched CNN international, which I imagine only had one difference from the coverage you all watched- our commercials were in Spanish and Portuguese. If I’ve counted correctly, between the 48 of us we are from or went to college in 28 states, DC, and Puerto Rico. We’re pretty geographically diverse. So, we had a good time holding people accountable for their states. If “your” state went blue, expect high fives and hugs all around. If “your” state went red, expect to be pelted with trash (in a loving way). I thought that this was neat because it’s not often that one watches the election with such a geographically diverse crowd. I mean, in pretty much any other situation you at least have in common the state in which you are watching the results- right? This also led to great discussions about the nuances of the elections in many states that I normally would have known very little about throughout the night. I was surprised by how connected I felt to Colorado. It wasn’t called until after the election was called for Obama, and yet I still watched it eagerly. I think I’ve come to idolize Colorado a bit here because it is “my home.” Even most of my American friends here don’t know how diverse my living background actually is. Here, I am Coloradan. Maybe it was because of this that I had such a yearning to watch it turn blue. As it turns out, of the 7 states I’ve called home, 6 went blue. I’ve never especially warmed to Texas…

By 10:45pm (Peru is on East Coast time now) we knew that the election would be called at 11pm. By 10:59pm we were all on our feet and had a countdown (I think the restaurant owner thought we had lost it…) 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… and sure enough, the screen flashed “BARACK OBAMA ELECTED PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATED OF AMERICA.” We jumped up and down, we screamed, we cried, we hugged, and hugged, and hugged, and laughed, and cried. Seriously, I wish you all could have seen our jubilation (es palabra? Ya no se. Siempre invento palabras castellanas.). I can safely say that I have never seen a group of people so happy about anything. This made making state finals in marching band look like a somber event. Now, I will grant you that Peace Corps volunteers are by no means a representative population of the US (unfortunately) and that we are probably primed to be more politically active, but I mean EVERYONE was ecstatic. We (okay, I) were so happy we burst out into patriotic songs. When’s the last time you heard me burst into a patriotic song that didn’t involve a Frisbee event or the 4th of July? There is something special about Obama. Maybe he’ll bring the US some magic J. We watched McCain’s concession speech and Obama’s acceptance speech (omg- I get to listen to that man LEAD OUR COUNTRY for at least the NEXT FOUR YEARS!) through a veil of tears. I got a headache from smiling too much. We skipped home. Literally. I walked into my house all smiles- OBAMA GANÓ! I said. My host family was happy.

Today was the first day I’ve spent outside of the United States during my adult life that I felt proud of my country. I know that sounds cliché, but I actually wasn’t even expecting it. It just happened. On our way to the center this morning Peruvians we had never seen before CHEERED us from across the street. Our facilitators embraced us with congratulations. Those of us who hadn’t seen each other the night before ran across the center to jump into each other’s arms. When I came home my host family wanted to know all about Obama. They’d seen his daughters in the newspaper. “They’re blacker than he is!” they said. “Yes,” I said, “but finally, to America, it doesn’t matter.”

World Book, Perú

2008-10-19T19:30:00.000-05:00

The Peace Corps has three goals. The first goal is to provide technical assistance to those who ask for it. I am more interested in goals two and three. Goal #2 centers around creating a more positive image of Americans abroad, and goal #3 is to inform those in the US (i.e. me and my friends and family) about Perú. It is with this last goal in mind that I’ve decided to back up with my blog, and talk a little bit about Perú, the country I now call home. I’ve only been here a month, so clearly I’m no expert, but I have learned a fair amount. Plus, this will be an interesting baseline for me to compare my knowledge in 26 months when I leave. So, if I were to write a World Book Encyclopedia entry on Perú, it would look like this:

Geography and Climate

Perú lies in South America, its northern border just beneath the equator. Its neighbors to the North are Ecuador and Colombia, to the East is Brazil, to the South are Bolivia and Chile, and to the West is the Pacific Ocean. Perú is divided into 24 departments, which are like our states. Each has a capital, and a not-too-autonomous government. More importantly, Perú is divided into 3 distinct geographic regions: the coast (la costa), the mountains (la sierra), and the jungle (la selva). The coast is really only a fairly thin sliver of land that runs the length of Perú’s border with the Pacific. The mountains come next, and they are not just any mountains, but in fact, the Andes. Most of Perú’s territory, however, is jungle, or the Amazon. Despite the geographic distribution, the overwhelming majority of Peru’s population lives on the coast. In fact, 1/3 of the population lives in the Lima-metro area alone. Very few people live in the jungle, but those who do have the least access to resources of anyone in Perú. One’s socioeconomic class is often closely associated with region. The people on the coast are the most well off, followed by those in the mountains, followed by those in the jungle.

Perú’s climate varies substantially by region. The coast actually contains the driest desert in the world. That’s where I live. It doesn’t rain here, ever. It is extremely dusty, and there is no such thing as natural foliage. That’s why they have to dust the trees that do exist. Lima is often covered in a thick fog for much of the day, but it never rains there either. Chaclacayo is just high enough above Lima that it’s only foggy in the morning, and it burns off by about 10am. When the sun is out it is hot, but probably never gets much above 75 or 80 degrees. When the sun goes away it gets cold. Pretty straight forward.

The mountains have a wet season and a dry season. The wet season is the summer, or roughly October- March. The dry season is the winter, or roughly April-September. It can get very cold in the mountains, especially at night. When you see those really cute pictures of Peruvian children all bundled up with bright pink cheeks- it’s really not that cute because their cheeks are pink principally from chapping and over-exposure to the cold.

The jungle, well, is a jungle. It’s hot and humid almost always.

History

Oh boy, where to begin? Well, Perú is home to the ruins of one of the oldest civilizations in the world- Caral. It was discovered about five years ago a couple hours North of Lima. The ruins there date back to 3000 BC. After Caral came a whole slue of rather interesting indigenous cultures that excelled at everything from architecture to pottery to fishing to dying wool. These cultures came and went and fought with each other until 1450 AD, when the Incas rose to power and started uniting everyone. Peruvians claim that the Incas where peaceful people- unless you tried to resist them. Uh-huh. The Incas made Machu Picchu and most of the other cool ruins in Perú, they spoke Quechua (all though they weren’t the first), and they are considered the basis for Peruvian indigenous culture today. In 1525 AD the Inca Huayna Capac died. He had two sons. Atahualpa was older, but Huascar was born in Cusco, the Inca capital. So, the throne passed to Huascar, and a Civil War broke out, dividing the Inca empire. In 1532 Atahualpa murdered his brother, assumed the throne, and tried to bring his divided empire back together. Enter the Spanish.

The Spanish killed most of the Inca either through fighting or disease, and subdued the rest, with the important exception of Tupac Amaru and many of his followers who fled to the jungle and held out a strong resistance. Eventually Tupac Amaru was captured by the Spanish and brutally executed, and he became a martyr.

In the mid-1800s Perú had had enough of Spanish rule, and joined with most of the rest of South America in kicking the Spanish out. Perú was part of Simon Bolívar’s republic, which encompassed present-day Guyana, Venezuela, Colombia, Panamá, Ecuador, Perú, Bolivia, and part of Chile. This is what Hugo Chávez wants to bring back, by the way. That broke apart pretty fast, and Perú became its own country.

Okay, my history gets sticky here; I’m doing this all without notes. I know that in 1879 Perú went to war with Chile. Really Chile went to war with Bolivia, but Perú and Bolivia had a mutual defense pact. Chile kicked Perú and Bolivia’s butts. They took Bolivia’s coast and briefly controlled Perú via a puppet government in Lima. The Chileans eventually retreated, but took with them Perú’s natural resource rich most southern province. Perú is still upset about it, but probably not as upset as now landlocked Bolivia. Oh, and what natural resource did Perú lose? Mountains of guano. I’m not kidding.

Okay, fast forward about 100 years, I have no idea what happened in Perú during that time, but hopefully I will before I finish my language and culture class. We’ve only gotten as far as the Inca.

In 1980 there was a professor at the University of Ayacucho, Guzmán. He was obsessed with socialism, and traveled to China to study it. He decided that the solution to Perú’s problems was to violently oust its capitalist government and bring in socialism. So, he created the terrorist organization called the Shining Path. The Shining Path created a reign of terror that lasted in Perú for 20 years. They started by taking over small towns and villages in the mountains. They would kill anyone who they suspected of cooperating with the government. Meanwhile the government would come in and kill anyone they suspected of cooperating with the Shining Path. It was not pretty. Nonetheless, no one in Lima really cared because the terrorism was mostly confined to the countryside. Meanwhile, the population of Lima doubled as people fled the terror in the mountains. In the early 1990s, Guzmán decided that his tactics were not working, and that he needed to move the fight to Lima. He did, and when rich people started dying everyone started listening. Alan García was elected in 1985. Under García the Peruvian economy went haywire, inflation got to be so bad that you would have to take a huge box of soles just to ride a combi, and everyone lost their life savings. The currency changed from the sol to the inti (1000 sol = 1 inti) and then from the inti to the Nuevo sol (1000 inti = 1 nuevo sol) all in five years. As you can imagine, most Peruvians lost their life savings. On the plus side, García did a lot to fight terrorism. After García, the Peruvians elected Alberto Fujimori as president. In 1993 he suspended Congress to crack down on the Shining Path. He was re-elected in 1995 and again in 2000. He caught Guzmán, which was the beginning of the end of the Shining Path, but his government continued to massacre, imprison without trial, and torture those that where suspected Shining Path sympathizers. This is less than 10 years ago!! Shortly after Fujimori was elected the second time, a huge corruption scandal broke, Fujimori’s right hand man ended up in jail, and Fujimori fled to Japan and resigned. (He actually came back to Chile last year, and is now on trial in Lima for many things, including human right’s violations.) There was an interim president, and then Toledo was elected. Toledo is important to the history of Perú because as a child he had a Peace Corps volunteer living in his town who recognized his brilliance and personally tutored him and helped him out of poverty. He went on to get a degree from Harvard, and the Peace Corps volunteer was at his swearing in ceremony for president. Toledo invited the Peace Corps back to Perú in 2002 after a 27 year absence. Other than that, Peruvians pretty much hated Toledo. I’m not sure why. The last election was in 2006. The candidates were Alan García (we’ve already discussed his stellar resume), and Ollanta Humala. Humala is an extreme leftist who would have led Perú down the same path as Venezuela and Bolivia. Faced with two not-so-attractive choices, Peruvians re-elected García. It’s now 2008 and the Nuevo sol is still a functioning currency, so let’s hope this term is better than his last…

Politics

Well, I already went over a lot of this. There are some other things though… Just last week a big scandal was discovered with the petroleum company- PetroPerú. They were discovered illegally selling off land rich in oil without using the open market. The prime minister of Perú (Perú has a president, two vice-presidents, and a prime minister) was implicated and had to resign, along with his entire cabinet. This week has been spent running around to find new ministers, and to re-approve some of the ones who resigned. Alan García appointed Simón to be the new prime minister. This is very controversial because he spent a decade in jail for actions associated with the terrorist group MRTA (movimiento revolucionario de Tupac Amaru- this is going to be a kind of long aside… Remember how I told you that Tupac Amaru became a martyr back right at the end of the Inca? Well, this group went by the name Tupac Amaru II, and also had the intention of taking over Perú during the same time as the Shining Path. They were a smaller group, but caused plenty of damage in Lima, and are most famous for taking 406 hostages at a party at the Japanese ambassador’s house. They held about 80 of the hostages for three months until Fujimori’s troops finally broke in and killed every single captor.). So yes, the new prime minister of Perú previously spent 10 years in prison for terrorism. However, this might be a good political move for García because Simón is a member of the ultra-left, and his presence in the government may help to appease the 47% of the country that voted for Humala and have strong left-leaning tendencies. Last I checked García had an approval rate of 14% and falling, so he could use a boost. So you see, Perú’s not that unlike the US after all.

Food

So far the food in Perú is delicious. Any guidebook can tell you about ceviche (raw fish prepared with lime), cuy (guinea pig), or anticucho (beef heart kebabs), but I haven’t actually tried any of that yet. (I do want to- I’ve heard it’s all delicious!). So what do I eat? Every morning for breakfast I have corn flakes with yogurt instead of milk. I also have a sandwich of some kind made on a French bread roll. It’s usually hardboiled egg, avocado, or Greek olives. I highly recommend the Greek olive and French bread roll sandwich; it is delectable, even at 7 in the morning. For lunch and dinner I almost always have the same meal, but it is different each day. All meals start with a healthy portion of white rice, and a heaping pile of potatoes (yes “and,” never “or”). Then there is some kind of meat- fried chicken, boiled chicken, fried beef, or white fish of some kind. There is usually a sauce- I eat a lot of this sauce that looks like pesto and tastes similar, but isn’t quite right. If I’m lucky I can smother the whole thing in ají, which is amazing hot sauce. It is usually yellow, and does not taste like salsa, but many does it have a bite! It’s my favourite part of Peruvian food by far.

Potatoes are probably the most important part of the Peruvian diet. Peruvians are very proud of the fact that the potato originated in the Peruvian Andes, and they are quick to point out that the potato has saved millions of lives around the world and lifted people from poverty (think Ireland). More than 3,000 types of potatoes are grown in Perú. I’ve probably only had about 6 since I’ve been here. Good thing I have another 26 months!

The fruit here is amazing as well. My favourite new fruit is the granadilla, which I recently learned might be a passion fruit. In any case its insides look like fish eggs, but taste like a piece of heaven. There are also a bunch of types of bananas that we eat a lot of. My favourite are these little mini-bananas that are about 3-4 inches long, and nice and sweet. The weirdest look and taste like a banana, but are orange inside. Many of my colleagues would kill for a chirimoya, which is white, slimy, and super sweet on the inside, but I don’t really care for it. Other popular fruits are mandarins (not at all seedless), apples, and mangoes, which are just coming into season :).

What do we drink? My madre often packs Sporade for me, which is a hilarious Gatorade rip-off. Other than that I’ve have fresh-squeezed lemonade, peach juice, orange juice, and lots and lots of Inca Kola. Inca Kola is a bright yellow soft drink that tastes like chewing gum. Not my favourite. I got super-lucky because my host family here doesn’t drink coffee (everyone else drinks instant- there is no “café pasado” or real coffee, as they call it here). So instead, I drink te puro (black tea) for breakfast and dinner. My host family thinks I’m very weird because I don’t add sugar. I also drink a black tea made with cinnamon and cloves, which is delicious.

So, that’s my encyclopedia entry about Perú. I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface, but hopefully if you’re still awake and reading you’ll now have a little more context in which to fit my stories.

I might be the luckiest girl in the world

2008-10-16T18:19:00.000-05:00

Wednesday was a holiday here in Peru. It was the anniversary of some battle, but I couldn’t get much more than that out of anyone I asked about it. In any case, we didn’t have training. So, Brian, Robyn, Douglas, and I decided to go on an adventure. We heard that there are some “mystical ruins” about a 3km hike away from San Pedro. San Pedro is at 10,000 feet above sea level, and is 33km from Chosica. Our guidebook said it would take an hour and a half to get there. It sounded like fun, and so we met at the plaza in Chosica at 10:30am to begin our journey.

We had a bit of a time finding the place in Chosica where the combi was supposed to leave for San Pedro, but thanks to our first bit of luck we found it about 5 minutes before the combi left. I’m not sure how many combis left from Chosica for San Pedro yesterday, but I don’t think they were very frequent. The 33km drive took 3 hours. Yes, I realize that some of you can run faster than that. I believe that my pictures of the drive up there will explain our slow pace. Chosica is 2,000 feet above sea level, which meant that we had to climb 8,000 feet in a van. The road was dirt and snaked perilously close the edge of the mountain as we climbed. We had to stop and back up in the middle of several of the hairpin turns because the combi couldn’t make it around in one try. One time the doorman had to get out and put rocks behind our wheels. At another point we forded a river, and twice we had to stop and wait for livestock (donkeys and then cows) to make their way around our combi.

When we finally made it to San Pedro it was beautiful. It is a small town perched near the top of a mountain (although the people here still call these hills… can’t wait for the Andes…) with breathtaking views on all sides. It was very misty, which added to the mystery, but was hard to capture on film. First we stopped for lunch. I had a large plate of chaufa (Chinese fried rice Peruvian style) that was possibly the most delicious meal I’ve had in Peru thus far. Then we set out to find the path to the ruins. We found some other tourists who looked like they might have been there and asked them. “Well,” they said, “you’ll have to be especially careful of the horses. Also, it’s a five hour round-trip hike.” Horses? Five hours? Well, the hike was out because it was already 2 in the afternoon, and we all had to be home for dinner, but we inquired about the horses. As it turned out, yesterday was the day of the annual horse race in San Pedro. The jockeys all had raced up in the morning, and in about half and hour would all be barreling down to the finish line at the beginning of the main plaza in San Pedro. So the hike was definitely out because none of us felt the need to dodge racing horses as we trudged our way up to the ruins. We decided to stay for the race.

The race was amazing. The entire town turned out and perched everywhere from the surrounding hills to the top of the chapel to the wall on either side of the race road to watch the horses come in. We were certainly the only Americans there, and aside from those two other tourists, were probably the only non-Peruvians there. San Pedro is at the beginning of the sierra, and so we got to experience for the first time the more traditional outfits and attitudes of the people there. Everyone was very friendly, and they were amazed that we had come all of the way from the USA to see their horse race (umm, kinda). The race itself was brutal. About one in every three horses crossed the finish line without a rider. We personally saw three people fall. There were dogs and people running up and down the race track who often had to make quick dashes for the sidelines as more horses came through. At one point a donkey came trotting along the race track just like a horse and everyone cheered. It was an amazing day.

A comment on magical realism:

2008-10-03T19:27:00.000-05:00

She died from washing her hair. It was the year after the students disappeared from the University in Chosica, and after the mothers screamed when Fujimori came to christen the roads, during tree-dusting season.

If you pardon my very rough diction and lack of stylistic grace, this could be a sentence in a magical realist novel. Through Western eyes it seems fantastic- you can’t die from washing your hair, the roads in Huascaran were christened before the massacre in Chosica, and you don’t dust trees. However, through Peruvian eyes, it doesn’t seem fantastic at all. My host mom firmly believes (as do many in the US) that wet hair causes “cholera” (it is worth noting here that all upper respiratory maladies, from a one-day mild common cold to the worst flu/ bronchitis/pneumonia you’ve ever had in your life can all be described using the same word in Spanish). She hasn’t let me shower in three days because I have a slight cough (don’t worry- I snuck in a sink hair-washing tonight after she left). There also was a massacre at the University of Chosica, back sometime in the mid-nineties, where the government came in and “disappeared” nine students and two teachers. This may be the stuff of nightmares in America, but it actually happens here, and everyone over the age of 8 in Peru right now lived it him or herself. It also so happens that Fujimori, the then president of Peru, did come to christen the roads in Huascaran, a small settlement of almost no national importance. I don’t know why, but it happened. As for the timing of things, it’s just not an issue here. My very own language and culture professor swore up and down the Chosica massacre was in 2006. I pointed out that Fujimori fled the country in 2000, and only then did she concede that the massacre must have been before that. The point is though, that if enough people think things happened in a different way than they did, and it becomes the collective memory, then it becomes true. I believe this happens a lot here, and accounts for many of the more fantastic moments of Latin American history. It doesn’t matter, however, what actually happened because the memories that people have, and the stories that they tell are the history that they continue to live, regardless of what “really” happened. And, as a final point, they actually do dust the trees in Huascaran. They need to because the trees are covered in dust and would die from lack of access to sunlight otherwise. (The air quality here is awesome- let me tell you.)

So, when I say that reading a magical realist novel is really like living in Latin America- that is what I mean. Perhaps it is true that they didn’t cut up the lake in Colombia and sell it various American businesses (as happens in One Hundred Years of Solitude), but in a country where things that were once considered basic human rights (like access to water) were sold to foreign countries, this concept suddenly seems much less fantastic. I’m sure that these observations will only become more apparent when I move to my site, which will most likely be dominated by more traditional thinking, and I am fascinated to learn more about how this creating of a collective fantastic memory affects every day life in the towns of Latin America.

El Mercado

2008-09-23T08:26:00.000-05:00

This morning I went to the market with my madre to do some shopping. We left the house and walked for awhile until we encountered a moto-taxi. I have no idea who was ever sitting around and thought, “Ah yes, a moto-taxi will be a good way to transport people and goods around a country.” These things are terrifying. They have three wheels (one in front and two in back). The driver sits up front on a motorcycle-esk seat, and the passengers sit in back under a canopy of sorts on a bench that is open to the air on the sides. They are smaller than a Smart Car. Every single one looks like it’s about to fall apart, and I’ve seen several go up on two wheels while attempting even the most benign corners. They are all red or blue. They have the acceleration capacity of your average bicycle (or maybe tricycle…), and yet this does not prevent them from pulling out in front of giant buses on the main highway or blatantly cutting off cars as they turn. I’ve seen more than one with its back “window” shaped like Batman’s call sign. So, my madre and I got up into the moto-taxi and I hoped for the best as we zoomed to the market. The market of Chaclacayo is just like any other run-of-the-mill Latin American market. There are large slabs of meat hanging from hooks, most of which are still very recognizable as animals, many of which still have tails/fur, and some of which are bleeding onto the floor. There are stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables as far as the eye can see in every direction, and you’re as likely as not to have ever seen the fruit before in your life. They even have pitaya!!! Hooray!!! (I discovered them yesterday and have already personally consumed three.) The aisles are jam-packed with women (and some men) with a baby in their arms and several kids in tow. Other vendors push their way through the crowds selling sandals, soap, and dish towels to anyone who will stop to hear their schpeel. Today my madre headed straight towards the chickens, and ordered four chicken breasts. Then we stood around as the chicken-vendor-woman prepared them. Call me naïve, but I thought this was very chevere (cool), as they say here. She took what looked exactly like a rubber chicken, only bigger, cut off the bottom part with the legs, cut off the head, scooped out the innards and the heart, and then cut the breast from the bone. Lo and behold, what was left on her counter looked exactly like what I buy at the super-market in the States! I mean, I knew this was the process, but I had never seen it done before, and I was surprised at how exactly the breast from the giant “rubber” chicken resembled the stuff in the Styrofoam container back home. Who woulda guessed? I also now know that if there is a market at my site I can have them prepare the chicken for me there instead of attempting to take it home and do it myself- disaster. I ate the aforementioned breast for lunch today, and it was delicious.

Some things I love about Peru so far:

1. The llama chiclets commercial: This commercial has llama close-up after llama close-up of llamas “saying” chevere. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a llama close-up, but the things are butt-ugly. The idea of them saying chevere is hysterical. The commercial closes by saying simply, “Chilets son chevere.” I think I’ll go buy some this afternoon.
2. Anti-idol: This is a show of people attempting to sing karaoke in English, who do not speak English. Believe me, you haven’t lived until you’ve seen a 20-something Peruvian male who’s never attempted English before in his life belting out “We go together like shamamala, badingidy diggidong.” Or whatever it is.
3. Lima! We went yesterday as a group, and it’s great!! There is so much to do and see there, and it is so alive. Don’t believe people who tell you that Lima is a dirty thieving dump. I mean, it is unbelievably dirty (when I blew my nose last night it was black), and there are un monton de thieves, but it’s so much more than that!
4. Alan Garcia- the president. Right now he has a 19% approval rating, and so he makes me feel right at home! ;)
5. El Comercio, the national paper. Today they had an article from the Economist! The ECONOMIST!! Oh, Economist, te quiero.
6. Internet for 33 cents an hour.
7. Argentina. Why? I was walking through Lima yesterday speaking Spanish, and a guy stopped me and said (in Spanish), “Are you Argentinean?” “No,” I said, “I’m from los Estados.” “But you speak Spanish so well!” was his reply. Yay for Latinoamericanos who are actually pale, blue-eyed, and tall like me so guys like that can stroke my Spanish ego :).

I can’t wait to get to know more of the “real” Peru, but for now we are mostly stuck in classes at the training center from 8am-5pm six days a week. Sigh. Pues, today is Sunday, and I’m off to Lima with the fam. Miss you all!

Besos,
Sarita (not one single Peruvian has called me Sara yet, it is always Sarita, including in my classes)

In Peru!

2008-09-18T11:49:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone,

Well, after over a year of applying and waiting, I am finally in Peru. So far it is wonderful. We arrived in Lima on Friday night (well, Saturday morning) at around 2am. From there we went to a retreat center for a quick one-day orientation before meeting with our host families on Sunday.

My host family is wonderful. I live in a nice house in Huascaran, a neighborhood very close to Chaclacayo, where the Peace Corps training center is. It´s a 15 minute walk for me to get there in the mornings. I have a host mom, a host dad, two host brothers (24 and 19) and a host sister (14). They are all extremely nice and like to chat with me. They have had four Peace Corps volunteers previously, so they are very accostomed to our schedule and to the ¨weird¨ things that we americanos sometimes do. They are also amazed that I speak Spanish as well as I do, which is nice. My Spanish has actually been holding up very well, and I can feel it improving every day. Sometimes I speak so quickly now that I startle even myself!

Six days a week we have training at the Peace Corps training center. Generally, we receive language and culture training the mornings, and technical training the afternoons. I placed into the highest language class, and so my language class is mostly culture and research, which I enjoy. Training is fairly taxing because we are in class from 8am-5pm and then we have homework at night when we are with our host families. It is difficult to make time for excersize, maintaining contacts back home, or generally keeping sane. In the end it´ll be worth it though because we are learning so much.

So, so far so good from Peru. I hope you all are doing well, and I´d love to hear from you. Oh! And I have a new address. The old one will still work, but this one goes directly to the training center:

Sarah Walker
Cuerpo de Paz
Calle los Cedros 647
Chaclacayo
Lima 8, Peru, S.A.

Chau!

Greetings from Staging

2008-09-11T15:46:00.000-05:00

Well, I've officially survived the first small part of the Peace Corps- staging in Washington D.C.. We checked in to the hotel in Georgetown by 3pm yesterday, and spent yesterday afternoon and all day today going over basic expectations, cross cultural communication strategies, safety concerns, and logistics for Peru, and generally get to know one another.

So far I am pleased with our group. There are 47 of us, all going to Peru, who will work as Community Health Promoters, Water Sanitation Volunteers, and Agribusiness/ Forestry Volunteers. There is one retired volunteer (see- it's never too late! :)), one married couple, and a handful of us who are over 21/22 and fresh out of college. It's about evenly split male/female, although there are probably a few more girls. I've met a guy from Grand Junction, CO, a gal who went to CU Boulder, and there are a full THREE of us who attended college in Northfield, MN (the other two are Oles). Two people have never left the country. Wow. I've found one other person who has a master's degree, but hers is in Tropical Medicine (cool!!!). The best part is that despite our diverse backgrounds and life experiences, we are all scared, excited, optimistic, and have roughly the same fears. I feel so much calmer knowing that in no way will I be alone in this experience. We may all be crazy, but at least we can be crazy together.

So, I leave for Peru tomorrow. I'll be at a two-night, one day orientation just outside of Lima this weekend, and then on Sunday we go to Chaclacayo to meet our host families. I have no idea what kind of internet access I'll have or how I'll communicate, but I'm sure I'll have a lot to say after my first few days. I am unbelievably nervous, but I think I've made the right decision. As they told us in training today, "You are officially not that person who always wanted to do the Peace Corps, or that person who almost did the Peace Corps, but rather, you have joined the ranks of people who said, 'yes, it's time to do the Peace Corps' and acted on that decision."

One Month from Today I'll be on a Plane...

2008-08-12T13:04:00.000-05:00

Hi all. I'm creating this blog as a way for friends and family to keep tabs on me while I'm in the Peace Corps. I'll be serving as a Community Health Promoter in Peru from September 2008- December 2010. So far, this is what I know:

1. I have a two day staging in Washington DC from Sept. 10th- Sept. 12th where I will meet my other Peru trainees, fill out lots of paperwork, and receive more information about what my life's going to be like for the next 27 months.

2. I leave from DC at 1:05pm on September 12th for a 3 month training in Lima, Peru. During this time I'll live with a host family and attend job, language, and safety training.

3. Sometime in those first three months I'll get my site placement, where I will spend two years. Peru is a big country, so right now I'm trying to pack for the coastal desert, the Amazon, the Andes, and the beach all in two 50 pound suitcases. Wish me luck.

My address while I'm in Lima will be:

Sarah Walker, PCT
Cuerpo de Paz
Calle Via Lactea 132 (accents on the i in Via and the first a in Lactea)
Urb. Los Granados, Surco
Lima 33, Peru

Looking forward to sharing lots of adventures!