Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Vacation/ Thanksgiving

Happy Late Thanksgiving to anyone who is reading this, to those who don’t read my blog I don’t care how you Thanksgiving went! Just kidding. Peace Corps gives us three days free for traveling so a group of us decided to take advantage of the free vacation (especially since we don’t get any vacation for Christmas or New Years or weekends or really anytime off)

Unable to miss out on the chance to get some good Thanksgiving food, I woke up at 

4am on Wed so that I could get myself into town in time to take a bus to the beach where another group had organized a Thanksgiving dinner. It was okay food but really great company. I went with 2 volunteers from here, and once there, met up with a friend from Ancash, my bosses, volunteers from another group, and volunteers who work in Lima. It was a beautiful day on the beach socializing and stuffing our faces. 

From there it was a series of car rides back to the city to start the second part of our vacation.


A group of girls, my friend Chris and I headed to the “door to the jungle”, 

Chachapoyas for a few days of fun site seeing. I was in Chacha in August with people from my community so I had already seen some of the big sites (see pictures in Picasso), so the first day while the rest of the crew headed off to Kuelap, I hung out in the city and wondered around for a very long time. A very long time. It was a lot of fun actually. I went and visited some friends I met last time I was there, hiked up to the lookout point where you can see the whole city, 

had a great lunch, did some work on the internet L, and got really really lost. After organizing the next day’s adventure I headed back to the hotel and met up with everyone else. 

We ran into “the Australian” that the rest of the crew met during the day and headed off to an eventful dinner. From there most of the crew wanted to go to bed but the Australian (his name’s Al), Chris and I don’t give up so easily.

 We were off to a bar for local liquors and conversation. I’d like to point out that local liquors are basically 80% alcohol with a bit of fruit flavoring. Drinks like that inevitably lead to conversations about particle colliders, quantum physics, and laws of force, and of course, religion.

 It was good time. Once the local drinks got to be too much the boys ordered us two rounds of pink fruffy drinks at which point, the bar decided it was time to close. So we did what any good tourist (or Peruvian) would do, we headed to the Plaza to drink and continue the night. Unfortunately by this point there was no place to buy more drinks so we just sat in the park talking and laughing until I realized that I would pee my pants if we didn’t head back soon. So at about 3:30 am it was everyone off to their beds


The next morning we were up at about 6 to head out to the third highest waterfall, Gocta. It was a bit of work to assemble the troupes (the 4 other girls from PC and Chris) but we finally began the hour long drive about 6:45am. Our driver dropped us off in this teeny tiny town about a 2.5 hour walk from the waterfall. As we fell out of the car with all our bags (the plan was to camp) hordes of children came to stare at us. I always feel like an alien around children in the pueblos here.


They all look at us like we have 7 heads. So after some bumbling around, we discovered that our plan to hike in and see the top of the waterfall then hike out and take a car to the bottom was fuddled by a landslide we settled on leaving our packs in the town, hiking in and then deciding what to do. As we finished up breakfast, our Australian friend showed up with his Spanish speaking guide and tour group. We absorbed him into our more English friendly group and headed off on the 2.5 hour walk up hill to see the falls. It was incredible. The hike was incredible. Chachapoyas is famous for all the wild orchids growing all over. We were able to see a decent sampling of said orchids, along with tons of other beautiful plants and butterflies. A botanist’s heaven. The falls are beyond description. They are beautiful. Gocta defiantly ranks up there as one of the top 15 most beautiful places I’ve seen in my life (don’t ask me to list the others but I’m sure there are more). We hung out and played in the falls for a while and eventually started the much shorter and easier hike back down.





Peru is turning me into quite the fashion plate obviously


We got a bit wet hiking into toush the falls


There was a bit of shuffling to figure out how to get back to Chachapoyas. There aren’t really any cars at all in the tiny little pueblo and Al’s tour group had an emergency head injury and left him. After a bit of conversation the mayor of the region came up to get us and

 drive us down to the big (20,000 people tops) town where we could get a ride. Of course the mayor mercilessly hit on one of the girls, which made me giggle, but we were all grateful for the ride. Once in the pueblo, we scored tickets back and had some time to wander and sample some local food including beer flavored ice-cream. No lie. Beer flavored. Not even good beer, cheap Peruvian beer flavored, and then dipped in chocolate. All for 1.5 soles (or 50 cents). It was fabulous! The long ride back was filled with jamming to our Ipods, dancing to the music on the radio, getting new hairstyles and generally scaring the locals. Good fun.

Once in the pueblo it was time for showers and a good pizza dinner. Dinner was once again accompanied by local drinks and talks about religion and politics. Eventually I was left with the boys to finish off our jar of local berry flavored rubbing alcohol and we headed off to the bars to meet up with another group. As with any good night out, one of the girls filled the first half of the evening with scouting talent in the locals and were thoroughly disappointed. From there on out there was a bit of dancing met with more boredom and the decision to move our now augmented (we met up with 2 tourist from the states, another volunteer, 2 friends from Chiclayo, and some other tag alongs) to a new bar. This bar was equally unexciting, so in true fashion we made our own fun. The group began to file out little by little. I was also done with the too loud music and 14 year old boys and (thought I) tried to gather the troupes to go on a mini-hike to the lookout with an already purchased bottle of wine. In the end it was just 

Al the Australian and I off for another adventure (and without the bottle of wine). It must have been 3 or 4 or so when we left and then there was waiting for the sunrise and I finally got back to the hotel about 6:30am. Another good night.

Our next adventure was to start at 8:30 so I was up by 8ish or so to get ready and run to the other hotel to wake up our Australian friend, who, very wisely, decided to bond with his bed rather than go out hiking with us again. Smart guy. We (after losing the Ausie, and another volunteer, we were down to 3 PC girls, Chris, and I) were off 

again to Pueblo de Los Muertos (City of the Dead). Now I still don’t know exactly know what it was that we saw. I’m not sure if this was a functioning city or a tomb. Either way it was pretty cool.




I made the dumb decision to hike in a bit farther than the path. 

It was a cool walk and a fun adventure until I came to the point where I could go no further and did the inevitably stupid thing of looking around to see where I came from. It was at that point that I realized how narrow the path was and the abyss into which I would fall if I had even a slight misstep. That realization made the walk back to where I left the group a whole lot more difficult- especially when I thought they had all left and there would be no one to tell of my death.

 (I’m the little white spec)

Luckily Chris was there waiting when I finally hit somewhat sturdy ground and hiked back with me. It was one of the longest 45min walks I have ever been on. My heart was beating like crazy from the few times I slipped and realized how likely it was that I could die right there, the altitude, my 3 hours of sleep in two days, and the walk up the mountain. It was rough. But we made it. I was defiantly glad Chris had stayed to watch me die and walked back with me. There was a point when I thought about setting up camp right there in Dead People Town. Couldn’t be too bad could it?

And that was about the end of our adventures. Once we got back to town we met up with other volunteers and our Aussie friend and headed to a typical lunch. Afterwards we said good bye to our Aussie friend and those volunteer lucky enough to stay another day and headed to the bus. I don’t think I have ever slept so well on a bus before. I was out. We got back to town about 6am, set up transportation for those that had to travel, ate breakfast and all headed in our own directions. Once I arrived at my house I went straight to my bed where I stayed until 3pm. I woke up and played an absurd amount of solitaire on my computer and went back to bed again with the goal of returning to life as usual. I guess my next adventure is finding something to fill my days until my next outing. But it was one hell of a vacation. 


so there were supposed to be more pics but they didn't load. More soon!

Monday, November 24, 2008

Top 10 reasons to run along the sequia.




So for those of you not lucky enough to live in a dehydrated desert that is being planted, irrigated, and fertilized into a not very productive agricultural area, I will begin by explaining a sequia. Sequias are essentially irrigation ditches that channel water from any available source (in my case a river) and distribute it via mini canals to acres and acres of farmland. These canals are always dirty, mosquito infested and most often serve as the community dump for all sorts of garbage and human wastes. If you are lucky enough (as I am) this sequia also serves as a place to bathe and wash clothes. An the really lucky ones (like me) also get to drink water that is siphoned off from the sequia. Oh the luck I have! For hours I could discuss the intricacies of sequias, how the are the center of life in my little town, how the availability of water to drink, cook with, or bathe in, depends on a sugar cane industry’s willingness to allow us access to the sequia, or how private farm land has been vacant due to the lack of water for the past 5 years. I will save these discussions for another day because the nature of this article is actually fairly positive (or if not positive at least comically sarcastic). Below I give you the top reasons why I have decided that despite everything, the sequia marks the best running routes.

10. Crops along the sequia (when they actually grow) provide the runner with shade otherwise unattainable in the desert. Sugarcane is an especially good provider of shade.
9. The dust that you will kick up (and that will inevitably stick to you the sweatier you get) will give you the appearance of having a beautiful sunkissed glow. Hint: Don’t tell people who comment on your new tan that it is really just dirt, they are generally repulsed.
8. During mango season there is always plenty of fruit you can pick during your run and take back for breakfast.
7. The garbage mixed with mud and dead animals that is occasionally drudged out of the sequia by employees of “La Empresa” is deposited along the sequia. The imaginative runner can pretend these pile are beautiful mountains or rolling hills.
6. If willing to get a bit dirty, said “beautiful mountains” or “rolling hills” can serve as challenges to the typically flat,0 altitude running route typically enjoyed in the desert. They can also serve as project idea for bored volunteers (ie garbage clean up day or a “what are we really drinking?” lecture)
5. They provide a quite, car free running route, which is particularly pleasant when the main bridge along the panamerican highway (due to poor government planning and coordination) is flooded and must be diverted through your site across a one lane bridge, thus increasing the amount of traffic along the one road through site by about 1000 times what it was designed to handle.
4. A quick run along the sequia will give you a fairly good estimate of the availability of water for drinking of bathing for that day. If the sequia is full you know that you will be able to bathe, if it is empty, you know you can look forward to a week without bathes or drinking water.
3. Animal life. Running along the sequia gives the runner a chance to enjoy the diverse bird and animal life in Peru. Unfortunately it also exposes the runner to Peru’s ugliest most obnoxious species, rude men. The mating call of this sadly prevalent species ranges from a series of hisses and whistles to the occasional “will you marry me” “oh yeah baby” “lets exersize”
Hint: there is a great 2 step method to dealing with this obnoxious species and their ridiculous mating calls. Step 1: Envision slapping, kicking, kneeing in the groin, or spitting on the offending animal. Step 2: Glare unflinchingly, without smiling and continue on your way. In particularly persistent cases sometimes it helps to mutter insults about how poorly educated and rude said animal is.
2. When not inundated with an overabundance of above mentioned rude men species, the sequia generally provide the route with the fewest encounters with curious onlookers who always feel the need to comment on that absurdity of someone running.
1. Protein, due to the garbage and often standing water there is an abundance of bugs willing to fly into any available orifice (mouth, nose, eyes, and ears being the most common but certainly not the only ones), thereby injecting you with a quick shot of vital proteins that your rice and potato diet has not provided you with.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008





Playing Catchup


So I guess I’ve fallen a little bit behind on the whole blog thing huh? I’m not really entirely sure where to begin honestly. It’s a bit disappointing that all the interesting idiosyncrasies that used to make my experience in Peru so unique have just become such common occurrences that I can’t even think of anything worth reporting. There used to always be something that made me stop and wonder what exactly was going on but now I’ve just taken to chalking it all up to the “it’s Peru” excuse and don’t even notice when someone explains to me that I’m sick because I drank cold water on a hot day or that rice can’t make you fat because it’s a white grain. So I guess I’ll just give a quick synopsis of the (somewhat) recent events.

So the first thing somewhat interesting I can think that I have done recently is spend about a week in Lima. Once a year Peace Corp coordinates with the US Embassy to put together an artisan fair where volunteers working with artesania can come with one of the artisans they work with and sell their products. There is always a workshop the first day to teach some business basics and then one day of sales. Last years workshop was horrible so this year a group of us put together the workshop and met in Lima one day early to put it all together. My huge Peace Corps salary hasn’t been going as far as it used to these days so I opted to take the cheap bus in by myself…. I now remember why its cheaper. I am okay with the fact that there is less room and the seats don’t go back very far. What I can’t get used to is the smell of urine and the claustrophobia that I begin to contract. Oh and it also didn’t help that starting about 4 am the wife of the jerk behind me decided she had to go to the bathroom. Rather than tapping me on the shoulder to wake me up and ask me to put my seat up so they could pass by, the jerk decided to start kicking my seat. This continued for over 15 minutes. At first I thought he was just moving around and didn’t pay much attention, after all, it’s a cramped bus and I’m sure my nightly restlessness also bothers people. Then it continued. About 15 minutes in the wife started complaining to her husband about having to go to the bathroom so the man kicked harder. Finally I realized what was going on and put my seat up, but at no point did either of them try to do the unthinkable and ask me (I would have accepted even a rude urging). They just hoped they could continue kicking my seat until I could read their minds, and all at 4 something in the morning. Oh manners! How I miss those common courtesies that are almost a reflex reaction to me that I never encounter here. Finally I glared at the man and I believe I tried to tell him (in my 4am very tired and very irritated Spanish) that God blessed me with a mouth and I have learned to ask for what I need and hopefully he learns to do the same and stop acting like a monkey. Too bad I don’t speak better Spanish in these situations. I’m sure it came out more like “blahs blah monkey no blah yawn”. In the end I just resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to get any sleep.

Lima was actually pretty fun. It was a bit of work because we had the fair and I was helping to present at a workshop but I got to see a lot of the other volunteers and hang out. I met a bunch of people from the new group that came and ate great food. (They have Thai food in Lima!)

Another thing that came with my visit to Lima was another mini-breakdown about what I’m going to do with my life and how. While there, a group of us stayed with a friend I met who works in the embassy. It was incredible listening to what he does, where he has been, who he’s met, what he’s seen. (and he lived in one of the most beautiful houses I have ever seen in my life). It made me think again about foreign service or other work abroad. For a while I had ruled it out because I’m getting anxious to go home and be with my family and friends but being at his house and listening to his stories has made me think again about living my life as an ex-pat, at least for a while. Ah who knows? I think I stress too much about what I’m going to do with my life.

After Lima I guess the next big event in my life was the election. Go OBAMA! Almost all of us went in to the capital to watch the election. It was amazing. I almost cried listening to the acceptance speech. I still get teary eyed thinking about it. I’m so happy Obama won. I just hope it actually means something will change. The problem with politics is that even if Obama wants to stick 100% to his morals and has only amazing plans for the country he’s not the only one making decisions and a lot of time to get what they want, politicians have to compromise on things they shouldn’t. I’m still hopeful though!

And then from there came Camp Alma. It’s a camp Peace Corps Peru (and maybe others) does for young women. Peace Corps hasn’t been really supportive of it lately. They say it costs a lot of money and isn’t sustainable. I disagree. The camp is designed to take young women leaders and develop those skills. I agree that probably many of them don’t become rich or even key leaders in their communities but this camp is the first time most of these young girls have ever stayed overnight anywhere besides the house of a family member. It is the first time they really hear about career opportunities, it’s the first time the really learn about women’s health and STIs. I believe its something that will stay with them forever. It was good to see the girls interacting with each other and making new friends. If nothing else, they learned how to do that.

So that is the brief rundown of the last however many weeks that I haven’t written. I won’t bore you all with a more drawn out version (especially since I don’t have any pictures to accompany this entry).

Thursday, September 25, 2008


Have I Become a Complete Tree Hugger? aka Down with Water Wasters aka Spilt Milk?


I guess I would say I have always had hippie tree-hugger tendencies. I have actually always been kind of proud of that part of my personality. Maybe I’m not Al Goring it up preaching about an inconvenient truth, but I’ve always thought about the environment and my impact on it. It seems, however, that what was once a passing preoccupation, something always somewhere in my mind (but not usually in the forefront) has become one of the most important things in my life. And what a strange place to make that transition, here in Perú where things are supposedly more natural. I come from the world’s biggest polluter to a place where there are fewer factories and chemicals start to see the real impact of humanity on our world. I think things are just more obvious here. Most places in Perú are littered with mountains and mountains of trash. Literally. In the desert where I live you can see miles and miles of trash laying in the desert. Maybe that’s what has made me think more about it. Who knows?

So here’s the story of what brought on this particular blog entry. I recently (the beginning of August) moved into a new house. In my old house there was no running water in the house. We had a little faucet thing outside in the corral and when the water came at 8am until 10am everyday, we filled up huge garbage cans for the day. Due to our lack of readily available water we were pretty cautious about how we used it. While my old host family had other very environmentally damaging habits (like the way they, and everyone, disposed of their trash) they were pretty good with the water. When I moved to my new house I was excited about the fact that we have water in the house. In my new little town the water comes 2 times a day for about 2 hours at a time. Every morning we fill up HUGE tanks of water and a few big buckets. There is a bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet (I know that seems obvious but here you’re lucky to have all three of those things in your house), we have a kitchen sink, and there is a little place to do laundry (by hand of course). I was excited, that is, until I saw how much water the family wasted. Most of the faucets leak, A LOT. And when they aren’t leaking often the family just leaves them running. They throw out huge amounts of water because it’s a bit dirty and won’t even let me use it for the plants, insisting that the dirt will kill the plants. In general they are just very wasteful and we usually run through every drop in the huge tanks by nightfall. In this town everyone pays a fixed amount of 12 nuevo soles (about $4) per month for water. It doesn’t matter if you use one drop or try to build a lake in your house, like my family did. A bit of background so you can understand my living situation.  (I even put a diagram above)
  
The front and backdoor have different keys. I only have the keys to the back door. My door doesn’t actually have a handle or anything. On the inside I have one of those little slide locks and on the outside (into the hallway) there are two hooks where I put a padlock when I leave. Usually when I leave I lock the backdoor and then padlock my hallway door and leave through the front door. Therefore, I have to enter through the front door so that I can un-padlock my door. Understand? Yeah anyway. That’s what I did this particular day. When I got home, there was no one else there and the front door was locked. So I went around back and went into my room. However, that means I was basically trapped in there and couldn’t visit the rest of the house. I don’t normally mind and figured I’d just wait for everyone to get home then I’d go around the house and un-padlock my door. I heard a strange whiney noise but just figured it came from the neighbors. When the family got home they called me and I went around front to see what was going on. That is when I encountered the lake that was our kitchen and living room. They had forgotten to turn off the knob for the water and when it came again in the afternoon it kept running and running and running overflowing everything. There was literally about 4 inches of water covering the living room and kitchen (luckily for me all the floors are different levels and mine is about 6 inches higher so the water didn’t come into my room). It had to be more than 50 gallons of water. More. I tried to reuse the water, watering and washing all the plants. Watering the street (so the dust doesn’t come in my room). Washing things. Whatever I could do so that we weren’t just dumping tons and tons of drinkable water down the drain. The family couldn’t understand why I would do that. They were ok dumping all the water down the drain. Mind you, I live in the freaking desert. There are 1000s of people within 10km of me that don’t have water. No one can plant gardens b/c they don’t have water. People who used to live off agriculture go weeks without fresh food because there is no water for their plants. And my area is better off than many places in the world. I just finished reading about Niger where people will wait in line for days to get a bucket of mud and try to suck the water out of that, drinking the dirt and parasites and everything that comes with it because that is all they have.

Now I realize me saving a bottle of water, won’t directly help those dying in Africa or even in other parts of Perú, but it does make a difference. Anyway, maybe I’m overreacting but I almost teared up thinking of how much water was being wasted. I know that the mini-lake in my house had some comedic value but more than anything I felt sad and really angry. I tried to convince them to save it in one of the big buckets we have and I would use it for the next week for the plants, but they again said plants can’t have water that has dirt in it (from the dirty floor) and that those buckets were for drinking water (we use that water to wash clothes). I know its water, but I was a bit heartbroken. I’m trying and trying to convince the people here we need to take care of our earth by preserving water, not throwing our garbage all over, reusing and recycling everything we can. In a place where people are worried they may not have something to eat tomorrow, taking care of the environment is their last concern. To them its just extra work, however, they don’t understand that the extra work they do today could help them have more, healthier things to eat and a better life tomorrow. I try to remember we are coming from different worlds but it’s hard. It feels like an uphill battle. Hell not even uphill. It’s like I’m standing at the bottom of the hill trying to climb up while all of Perú throws buckets of perfectly usable water and trash down on me.

A while back I met a PC volunteer who just finished her service in Paraguay. She was telling me that she was teaching organic farming and then one year the rains didn’t come and all the crops died. They ate a bowl of noodles and an onion everyday for months. And that’s it. One bowl of noodles with one onion. She said that she still thinks organic farming and trash management and recycling and all that is important but during those months she would have put anything on the plants to have something besides an onion to eat. It just makes me think of how much of a gap there is between my reality in the US and the reality here. It also makes me wonder about places that are worse off. All over South America the quality of life is improving (especially on the coast of Perú where I live). In other places in the Middle East and Africa and even other parts of South and Central America it’s still much much worse. There is no water. There are no plants. People are starving and no amount of handouts can change that. Imagine having a bucket of mud/animal poop/trash and putting that up to your lips trying to suck whatever drops of water you could out of it and even then only drinking a few drops so you can give the rest to your animals. It sounds unreal, but it isn’t. It happens everyday. 

I guess I’m still trying to figure out how to balance the economic reality of Perú with my ideals and desire to protect our poor, dying world. They say “don’t cry over spilt milk”, but what about over spilt water?
Living in Fear
Ask most of the PC volunteers in Perú and they will tell you one thing that is hard to get used to here is the way everyone lives in fear. Always. Especially women. They are afraid to walk by themselves, they are afraid to cross the street by themselves, they are afraid to start something new, they are afraid to eat this or drink that, they are afraid of the air that comes in through an open car window, cold beer (or drinks in general), bugs, everything. The most common phrase I hear here is “cuidado” or BE CAREFUL! Usually being screamed at me by a spastic mother as I do something (not so risky) like try to cross the street or step over a hole. Lord only knows the fear that strikes the hearts of the people who watch me when I do something really risky like climb a hill or ride a bike or walk across a knee high river. The next most common phrase “es peligroso” (it’s dangerous). That nasty moving air, very dangerous. Drinking a cold beverage on a hot day- that’s past dangerous, that’s deadly. I’m not even kidding. People will tell you that drinking something cold (especially a beer) will KILL you. The other day my host mom chastised me because I forgot to put the cover on the drain and the dirty water might clog it and that would be very very dangerous. Why is a clogged drain very very dangerous? I’m not particularly sure but I think it had something to do with the fact that when we tried to unclog it we might get sucked down inside, or maybe a monster will grow there. Who knows? Granted I understand that this is a stereotype. Not everyone in Perú is afraid of everything. I also understand that volunteers are living in some of the poorest parts of the country and the education level is much lower. With a lower education level always comes a lack of knowledge and view of the bigger (not quite as scary) picture. I have spent a lot of time trying to analyze this fear (and more time trying not to go crazy and slap the next person who freaks out and tells me to be careful). 

This morning I was talking to my host mom and had a bit of a revelation. I live about 45 minutes out of a relatively big city in Perú. This city, I think PC has some rule about how I’m not supposed to give away the location of volunteers so we’ll call it city C (ah fear), is growing really rapidly. I have only been here a year and in this year 2 new shopping centers have been built. Two of the biggest grocery story chains have come in. We’re getting a Starbucks (ah globalization). It’s growing really fast. Which brings me back to my host mom. She was telling me that when she was younger C-city was still really tranquilo (tranquil). She said that people left their doors open. There were only a few streets. No buildings with more than 2 floors. Two small grocery stores. Nothing really. Which made me think, most of the growth in C-city has taken place in the past decade or so, and if it has changed so much in a year, imagine how huge the change must be for my host mom. She has lived all her life in tiny places that could hardly be called towns, with one or two dirt roads, where everyone (until recently) lived off their own gardens and the things they grew and produced. 

Now that C-city is growing so much, people are flooding in looking for work. Crime is increasing, no one leaves their doors unlocked, and in general it is turning into a city. Big and bustling with all the good (more jobs) and bad (more crime/pollution) that comes with it. For me, it’s a city. I have lived in cities before. I know about crime and bustling streets (although Peruvian cities tend to be more chaotic and disorganized than those in the States), therefore the change doesn’t affect me in quite the same way. However, looking at it from my host mom’s point of view, I guess I can see how it would be pretty scary. News in the States is pretty sensationalistic but here, it’s worse. All you ever hear about is this accident or that murder or some riot somewhere. While these things always existed, people are just starting to hear more about them (TV is also relatively new). I suppose to go from your tiny little world where you only know what is happening with your neighbors and family to a world that is suddenly connected with roads, cell phones, TV, internet, all that stuff can be pretty startling. 

HOWEVER (there is always a however), for me, this fear is one of the biggest reasons (or excuses) why people don’t advance. The world is always going to be a bit scary, but it doesn’t do anyone any good to dwell on it. Obviously we should be careful about some things, but do we really need to spend all day worrying about this or that or being afraid some one will murder/kidnap/rob/etc. us? Remember that old advice song or whatever that came out in the 90s by Baz something or other? “Don’t worry about the future or worry but know that worrying is as affective as trying to solve an algebra problem by chewing bubblegum.” (I love that song) There is such a tendency for people to be afraid of change. People don’t like to step out of their comfort zone. I still don’t know if it’s just because things are changing so rapidly and it startles them, or if its tied to the machismo, or maybe its something cultural, or whatever, but there is such a tradition of complacency. Complacency does not lead to a better quality of life. Complacency does not lead to advancement or even happiness. It leads to fear of anything new or different. It also leads to me banging my head against the wall trying to work with people who are so complacent and afraid of change. I guess I have one more year to try and figure it out. Any ideas?

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

You know you're a Peace Corps Volunteer in Peru when:

- You come home and find a plastic bag of live pigeons in your kitchen

- When you come home later you find feathers from those same pigeons all over the kitchen

- And the next time you come home you’re given a piping hot bowl of pigeon soup- and you eat it.

- Dog bites are common

- It takes 17.5 forms to get anything done

- Having water in your house (let alone a bathroom) is a privilege

- You haul chicken poop around in little bags then precede to drink fermented corn with your unwashed hands, and enjoy it

- Turkey attacks are also common

- Your blonde hair suddenly makes you the most interesting person in the world

- Someone asks if you are so white because you bathe with bleach (silly people I don't bathe)


More to come.

Oh and here's some more pics of the APEC conference


The most important part of any conference is they give you something to eat

Look at me being all happy and formal, it didn't last long

Don't we look important- we're not really

Saturday, September 13, 2008

You know you are in the Peace Corps when you've ripped your own toenail off on purpose more than once in the last 6 months- and it didn't gross you out

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

At least if I´m treading water I´m not drowning

Things are trucking along at the same slow pace I suppose. At least on the work front. I finished my report for Peace Corps today about what projects I’m doing and how they are going etc. and realized that even though I almost always feel busy, I’m not getting too much done. It made me really think about what differences I’m actually making. I was feeling pretty bummed about it but then talked to a good friend of mine in the capital. He pointed out that my host family now eats at least 3 vegetables a day (besides potatoes) and that there are a slew of kids that love me and follow me everywhere. Then he started talking about the time we spend together. I guess I realized that my biggest changes are going to be personal (both on my part and on the part of the Peruvian with whom I work). Maybe I’m not exporting of forming huge business but I’ve made great friends. I’ve realized that 8 times out of 10 if I’m having a rough day here, I don’t call my Peace Corps friends (although I love them dearly) I call someone in the capital. I guess that’s progress right?

Tuesday, September 2, 2008




I Wanna Be a Supermodel

Well not really but I have been quite the figuretti these days. Last week the APEC (Asian Pacific Economic Conference) was in Chiclayo and I was asked (along with two other volunteers) to translate for the artisans displaying their projects. It was an adventure. There were a lot of complications, to many to discuss, and very few benefits (we weren’t given credentials, transportation, pay) but all in all it was fun. It was great to spend the week with the PC girls and we met some interesting people from around the world. I also made some interesting (and some over persistent) contacts in Chiclayo. I met a ton of journalist (that’s where the figuretti part comes in- apparently gringas make the best models for photos). Another nice benefit was good food! We were really only left with whatever the delegates didn’t eat but the nice thing is that because the delegates were comprised of finance ministers from around the world the caterer prepared a lot of food. And it was good! Actually, I was told by a lot of people that it was sub par but when you’re a Peace Corps volunteer, sub par can be pretty damn tasty. There were even vegetables of all sorts of colors! Overall, it didn’t feel at all like PC. Everyday I got dressed up in business casual to formal attire. I acted all formal. I talked to important people. It was great. A little peak of life outside of PC.
In the comings and goings of the crazy week I also had a few other adventures. The new volunteers just got to site so I took some time out to meet them. There are about 6 coming to my department and they all seem really great. We even found some time to party it up a lot. I absolutely adore the people who are already in my department. I have great friends, however, it was nice to get some “fresh meat”. New friends, new personalities, new stories. Its good to have them around especially after having a fairly messing falling out with some one who was one of my best friends here.
The other thing about new volunteers coming in is that it drew my attention to the fact that I have now been at site for over a year. One more to go. It’s hard to believe the time passed so rapidly. I am sure the next year will go just as fast. It makes me think about all the things I’m missing back home. Like my dad’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! I love you! It also made be reflect a bit on what I have (and haven’t done) and what I’d like to get accomplished. With that it kinda lit a fire under my butt to really start figuring out what I’m going to do with my life after PC. I started studying for the GMAT a while back but not to seriously and didn’t think much of it because I am not taking it till December, however, I’m realizing that December isn’t actually all that far off and I have a lot more to do. It’s pretty intimidating. Where will I live when I get back? How will I get a job? Where? What do I do about a car? Going to grad school? Will my old friends even still be around and if so will we still be friends? I’ve lost contact with a large majority of the people from my past already and I’ve only been here a year. What will happen in the next year? Its going to be an adventure that is for sure. Hopefully at least some people will stick around till I get back. I don’t want anyone to wait for me and postpone their lives until I get back (except Becky- Don’t get married till I’m back, I want to be there!). I know people need to keep pushing on, I just hope that pushing on doesn’t leave me too far behind.
So after a week of diplomacy, dressing up, not sleeping, losing friends, making new ones, and some crazy welcome and goodbye parties, I suppose its time to moving along and trying to be a good little busy bee. Time to play super volunteer. We’ll see how that goes

Wednesday, August 20, 2008


Just a short note I suppose as long as I have a free second. I'm trying to keep my photos updated since those are really the most interesting so keep checking in at http://picasaweb.google.com/smuhlba
Other than that, things are just trucking along slowly. It's hard to believe I already have one year down. I'm trying to get more involved in the community and find new projects. I'm also starting to get more involved with my new host family. It's been going well so far.
Most importantly I'm trying to do some sort of planning for post Peace Corps. I've started studying for the GMAT (and bombing all the diagnostic quizes) and at least thinking about what I will do at home. It's been an interesting shift in thoughts. I still think about and miss home all the time. Little things always trigger it too. I was thinking today about sandwiches, which led me to think of pickles, which led me to think of yellow bell peppers, which led me to think of a good friend back home and making supper at his house with him for he and his kid and how he'd put those dang peppers on everything (even pizza). The good thing is- now it makes me smile, where as before I felt sad and just missed it. I still miss it but can smile about it.
Maybe its just been a good week though.
I try to keep on smiling!

Sunday, August 17, 2008


It has been an adventuresome few weeks. At least life is always interesting here.
At the end of July I went on vacation for Fiestas Patrias with two good friends from Peace Corps. We decided to keep things pretty chilaxed so we headed up north to Los Zorritos, Tumbes. It’s a really quiet, peaceful beach town. The hostel we stayed at was incredibly beautiful and peaceful and pretty much exclusively ours for the nights we were there. We ate good food, hung out on the beach, hit up some mud bathes and just hung out. Lot’s of reading in a hammock and deep intellectual conversations. I also had a lot of time for reflection on what I am doing here (or what I’m not). The two women who went with me both live in the sierra and it was interesting to hear how different our experiences (especially with machismo) are. After a few really relaxing days there we went back down the coast to meet up the rest of the PC crew that was having a wild time on the beaches of Mancora. We ate good food and hopped on a bus back to Chiclayo.
After saying goodbye to my friends I headed back out to site and got ready for the next biggest change I will experience for a while. I moved families. My regional coordinator came out to talk to my old host family and tell them PC wanted me to move. It was really... awkward. And sad. Mainly cause I am going to miss my puppy. She sat there and starred at me. I think she knew something was wrong but couldn’t figure out what. It’s ridiculous how much I love that dog. She’s a dog. I know, but she’s my best companion at site. I guess the move will also inspire me to find new sources of support (maybe even human ones). So it was settled. I moved the first days of August.
Well I moved my stuff into the new house (where I still didn’t have a door) and then packed up a bad to go on a field trip with some people from my community (including my new host sister).
My counterpart and I went with 8 people from my community up to Chachapoyas, Las Amazones to visit and learn about some the tourist and agribusiness sites. It was incredible! I loved being there. The people were incredible. Super helpful, there were almost no creepy men whistling and hissing at me. I never felt like people were trying to take advantage of me. It was also really beautiful. The department of Los Amazones is technically jungle but Chachapoyas is nestled in the mountains at about 2800 msn (8400 feet). We visited Kuelap (an ancient Chacha town and fortress), and the caves of Quiocta (an ancient burial cave), as well as a lot of places that make lactose and fruit products. It was really interesting, educational, and inspiring. I definitely got frustrated a few times with some of the people from my community who were constantly complaining and asking for things (on an all expense paid field trip). We’re still working on addressing the ingratitude of many people. However, my counterpart and the people who were hosting us were so wonderful and such great companions. I recommend Chachapoyas to any traveler. They have some of the most amazing archeological ruins and beautiful landscapes.
From there I came back into Chiclayo waited around, visiting people for a while and than hopped back on a bus with a friend to head into Lima for my 1 year med checks. Know what that means? I have been in site for a year. I can’t believe how fast it went. One volunteer said it best when she said the days crawl by as slow as possible but the months fly. Lima was insane. It was a huge adventure. I met up with the entire business group and we had one day of overlap with the youth group, who had spent the entire time partying, hard. We business people are slightly more tranquilo. The first night we went out big with everyone. The second and third nights I didn’t hang out at all with Peace Corps people really. I met a bunch of crazy British people who kept me very entertained. We literally didn’t sleep for over 50 hours (on my part at least 50% of my reasoning for not sleeping was that I got violently ill and spent a good part of the night running to the bathroom). Tuesday was spent running from my bed to the bathroom. I don’t know the last time I threw up so much. It was far from pleasant. Then on Wednesday we had a meeting with the Peace Corps doctors who gave us the STI/HIV lecture and scared the crap out of everyone. There are about 500,000 more new cases of HIV every year than there are in the States. And Peru isn’t even ¼ the size of the States! Scary huh? So after being scared away from any type of sexual relationship with a Peruvian I headed out to visit with my old host family outside of Lima. I miss them so much! It was so great to be with them. They treat me like family. I hung out with my sisters all day long and then my host parents came home and I spent the night catching up with them. I am really lucky to have a family like them here in Peru. No one could ever replace my real family but it is nice to have people that love and care about me here in Peru. I love them a lot. The next day I met the new trainees and present my years work and a few other charlas. Nothing too exciting. It was kinda fun to meet the new volunteers but I think they are far along enough in their training that the last thing they want is more advice and more volunteers telling them about our experiences. Not that I blame them. I felt the same way when I was where they are. They only have about 1 week left before they ship out. That will be nice for them. So anyway.
The next few days was just hanging out with friends (and being really sick). Some people went out but I ended up getting sick. BOO sickness. On Friday I met two volunteers that just finished their service in Paraguay. It was great talking to them. I really enjoyed them. We ended up going out for a very relaxing time. A few beers. It was so great. Then I met a couple of other people from Lima who ended up being great. I hung out with them yesterday and then back on another bus and here I am in Chiclayo again.
So that was my almost month long adventure in a nutshell. I am killing some time in Chiclayo and trying to catch up on some emails before heading back out and trying to figure out the second half of my service.
Its pretty nerve wracking having to renegotiate money and house rules with a new family, try to figure out what new projects I can start, and get back into the swing of things. It’s going to be difficult. I guess that’s Peace Corps though. It’s been an inspiring month and I have lots of good new ideas. The hard part will be maintaining the motivation and actually getting them in action. We’ll have to see.
That’s that. By the next time post I will hopefully be settled into a new house, with a new family, with a new job, without my puppy 

PS! For pics of Chachapoyas go to http://picasaweb.google.com/smuhlba bookmark that page as that is where I will be putting my fotos!

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

irrational

Peace Corps sure wreaks havoc on my emotional state. Well I guess that isn’t fair. Some famous person, maybe Eleanor Roosevelt (I don’t remember) said that no one can make you feel anything you don’t allow yourself to feel. With that said, I guess I allow my PC experience to wreak havoc on my emotions. How’s that for taking responsibility? So back to the point.

I like to think of my self as a fairly rational person. I don’t generally like chaos, I try to keep things orderly and base my decisions on logic and try to keep relatively cool and, rational about things. I haven’t been doing so well in that realm these days. There’s always been a list of things that get me really riled up and send me into long, passionate, sometimes angry, rants. That list is being augmented at an unprecedented rate. Little things send me into a tailspin these days.

As an example: In one of my most recent trips to Chiclayo I spent the day visiting with my PC friends and enjoying good food (vegetables are great!) and relaxing. I ended the day with some quality time with Skype (a true gift from the gods) talking with my dad and my long lost friends in the States, whom I miss sometimes unbearably. To sum it all up, I left the café where I use the internet in a great mood, headed back out site. Because it was late and dark, a Peruvian friend of mine, Leo, offered to accompany me. Some background, Leo is fairly well educated, really intelligent, the farthest thing from the stereotypical machistic Peruvian male. He’s great. And he puts up with a lot of my shit. So we head out into the street and the first 2 taxis I hail try to charge me more than double the normal rate. My blood started heating up but I was in front of a nice hotel so I have them the benefit of the doubt and tried to let it go. My friend, noticing how annoyed I was (and knowing how much I hate when people try to rip me off) decided to try to hail a cab, with the hopes they wouldn’t be as eager to rip off a Peruvian as they are a random blonde wandering around. Here my irrationality began. I got frustrated with him, and blamed his actions on his machismo (instead of his honest desire to help me) and began to spout out the reasons why Peru bothers me.

He, as always, allowed me to whine and exaggerate and we continued trying to get a cab. Finally someone agrees so a fair fee and I head off. Well there are two places where I can catch my bus. The first (where I normally go) is a terminal that’s pretty dangerous outside but once I’m in I feel safe because the people know me and watch out for me. The second is on a corner on the outside of the time. I hate going there. I have watched drunk men beat the shit out of each other; drunk men beat the shit out of women, drunk men crash cars, etc. from the windows of my bus as we pass by. I don’t like being there in the day, it’s worse at night. (I also don’t like drunk men. Machismo stinks; drunken machismo is the most awful thing I’ve experienced in this country). So for times sake I have to go the second place. Again blood boiling. My head is scanning the many (irrational) reasons why I sometimes hate Peru.

Get to the terminal and just in time catch my bus. It’s full. Not just full, packed. There’s not even really standing room. Luckily for me, I spent a large part of my time at the U of M riding overcrowded campus busses. Standing on a bus doesn’t bother me. Except this time. The bus is short. I’m to tall. I can’t even stand; it only goes to about my shoulder. Then a drunk guy pushes me so he can get on. Here my blood is at a rolling boil. I cuss at him in Spanish (I am learning useful things). Irrational. The bus is filled with 15ish year old boys who begin to giggle and point at me and take pictures of me with their cell phones (damn all those nifty gadgets that cell phones have). I try to remember my conversation with my friends in the States. Try to picture my friend he drank, played volleyball, and talked to me at the same time. He has a distinct laugh when he’s drinking that always makes me smile, I try to think of that. My blood still boils. I try to think of my dad golfing and meeting people from his tiny home town, but the sound of the 15 year olds giggling eats away at me. Irrational.

I ride the whole 45 minutes that way. Smacking my head against the metal bar every few minutes. I’m incredibly annoyed by this point. In my head I’m reciting the mean things I want to say the drunk man standing next to me (and trying to smell his breath). I am thinking of everything I hate about Peru and how much I want to go home. I kept trying to think of good things but it wasn’t working.

I finally get home and my host family (that never drinks) is having a party. There are drunk people everywhere. No one says anything to me. No one invites me in. They don’t even say hello. I go inside to drop my stuff off, knowing that I’m in an irrational state of mind, and go outside again. Again, no one says anything. Fine they don’t want me at their stupid party. I don’t want to be there anyway. I go back inside and watch a movie on my computer. Still angry, sad, frustrated, annoyed etc. And the feelings are amplified because I know how silly it is to get so worked up by this stuff and I ‘m mad I can’t control that better.

Well the story continues in the same manner. My irrational anger basically follows me into the next morning and into the afternoon. Slowly it loses steam and I begin to cool down. And that’s it. I never really resolve anything I just kinda cool off. Now, in my more rational state of mind, I see how foolish it all was and feel slightly embarrassed of my anger. All this did make me realize that I am letting myself give way to too many of these negative emotions. I need to focus more on things that make me happy and healthy ways (pouting in my room alone doesn’t qualify) to combat my increasingly illogical emotions. I breath, I run, I think of home, and the most effective, hang out with my amazingly cute puppy. It’s slightly ridiculous how much a dog can mean to me and affect my overall state of being. But I suppose that’s not necessarily and unhealthy actualization of irrationality. Lesson learned. Anti-climatic huh?

Oh yeah, and drunken machismo is still one of the ugliest things in the world.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Life is a (half) marathon




Guess what I did. I ran a half marathon. That’s right 21k. I didn’t do it very quickly. I certainly didn’t win the race but I at least finished it. For me that is something. So I know I can do 21k now I need to train and see if next year I can run the full 42k.

Another volunteer from my group, Steve, planned this amazing international marathon in this beach town where he lives called Pacasmayo. It was amazing. There were about 140 runners in total running 5, 10, 21, or 42 kilometers on a not quite so easy course. It used to be packed sand but with the rain etc. it was essentially a sand path with a decent number of hills, but hey I did it so it can’t be that hard. Another amazing part of the marathon was getting to see other volunteers. It made me realize how lucky I am to be apart of this group of PC volunteers in Peru, specifically Peru 9. They’re great people and it’s always great to see them.


So that was my fun weekend vacation. Then it was back to real life. Real life started when my cell phone went haywire last Thursday. I know, I know, I can’t complain, I’m a Peace Corps volunteer with a cell phone, but after having one for so long you come to rely on it. I am/was in the middle of planning this big event in my site (which I’ll explain in a bit) so I couldn’t get a hold of anyone for that. I also couldn’t call my host family to let them know I’d be coming back late so they were kinda worried. It was just kind of a pain. Once I got back into Chiclayo I got a hold of Peace Corps and the man in charge of cell phones. He told me to go to the telephone company and he would send them an email letting them know I was on my way and needed to figure out the cell phone thing. Well I went to the big office, waited 15 minutes for someone to answer my question, only to be told I had to go to the other office on the other side of town. At this point my legs were still kinda sore from the marathon and I was just generally very tired from a long weekend, so that seemed like a big deal to have to go to the other side of town. Once I got there it took another 30 minutes for me to meet up with someone, where I was told I would have to wait a few hours until she received an email from the Embassy telling her what to do. I took advantage of the time to eat lunch in a park, where I was thoroughly stared at and returned 3 hours later, as instructed. I waited another 30 minutes to talk to the senorita where she told me she was still waiting for a second response and I should have a seat and she’d call me once she received the response. There I waited another 45minutes. Finally she told me I was authorized to get a new cell phone. I had to go to the cashier, tell them my number. They then gave me a receipt which I took to another part of the building to receive my phone and then had to go to yet another part of the building to test my SIM card to see if everything worked. Of course, it didn’t. It was back to the first senorita to wait for another email. Then repeating the process of cashier, receiving my new SIM card, going back to the senorita so she could authorize it, and more waiting. Finally, she said everything was set. I could leave, I would just need to wait 20minutes for the SIM card to be registered and for my phone to work. Well 20 minutes ended up being about 3 hours but finally I am again with a working cell phone. And I know I can’t complain because I’m really lucky to have cell phone to start with and Peace Corps took care of all of the arrangements etc. but it took about 6 hours of running around and waiting and chaos. While Peru is incredibly beautiful and growing everyday, there are still some major efficiency issues. For example if you go to the pharmacy, first you need to talk to a pharmacist who tells you what he/she can give you. Then you go to another window where you pay for your medications. They you go to yet another window where you receive them. The process to buy aspirin for headache usually takes about 30 hours and amplifies your headache. That’s progress I suppose. A lot of waiting and inefficient trial and error until you finally get it right.

So here I am with my working cell phone trying to plan an event. My counterpart agency, Cáritas, is about to inaugurate their project and will be holding a 3 day event to celebrate. This event includes a cocktail party in my community, to be attended by the interim ambassador of Italia, other dignitaries, heads of organizations, and maybe even the President of Peru, Alan Garcia. I poured all my energy into coordinating with the community to form a budget, plan events for the night, organize cleaning efforts, etc. Then came the heads of Cáritas, who reversed all of my work and basically told us to start over. It’s a long story, but a pretty typical example of my relationship with Cáritas. I plan and work and have to be their messenger and tell the community all the bad news (mandates that come from Cáritas), then come the bosses who go back on everything they have told me and make me look like the bad guy who’s lying to the community and stomping on their ideas. It’s incredibly… discouraging. Finally I spoke with the member or Cáritas, Omar, who is my direct counterpart within Cáritas and explained my frustrations and told him I would leave this even to him. He understood and agreed with me (he is also frequently the scapegoat of Cáritas’s bad decisions) but I can tell he’s upset. Since I got a working cell phone I have received at least 2 calls a day from him asking for help, and I usually oblige. And so goes my work with Cáritas. This event is absorbing most of my time but I have decided that it is time to find new projects and a new path that I really believe in. What good would it to for me to abandon everything I know and love, and a job that actually pays me to come to Peru and do something I don’t believe in, that will never help anyone except the pocketbooks of the bosses of an international beneficiary? I could do that in the States and get paid. And so it’s back to square 1. AGAIN. And I’m lost. I have no idea how or where to start over again. I know I’ll figure it out and there are some great people in the community who are willing to help me out. I’m sure I will end up working more with children, which scares me to death. I’m not really a big fan of kids at this point of my life, and even less so children who are not used to discipline and rules (that don’t involve beating the crap out of them when they do anything that displeases their parents). I’m not about to beat on kids but I don’t know how to make them listen to me. It definitely makes me appreciate my parents more. I don’t know how they put up with me. I was a pain in the ass but somewhere they found (and sometimes lost) the patience to deal with me. I was lucky to have such a great family. I wished I would have realized it sooner.

And speaking of my great family, my dad bought tickets for my sister, brother, and him to come visit me! They get to Ecuador on Christmas Day and will be spending almost a month with me. That is the best news I have heard in over a year. I can’t wait. If nothing else I will keep trucking along because I know I can count down the days until my dad gets here!

Friday, July 4, 2008

starting over in the middle

I know this Peace Corps experience will change me; however, some things about me will never change. For example, my amazing ability to procrastinate despite my Type A personality. Once upon a year and some months ago I told everyone I would start a blog about my experiences here in Peace Corps to keep anyone who was interested updated and not flood the inboxes of those who aren’t particularly interested. Well after a few inbox invasions and about a year of putting it off, I present to you (drum roll please) my blog. I don’t promise that it will be overly entertaining or complex. Due to my limited internet access it may not be updated that often but en fin, it is and that is what is important.

So backtracking a year or so to explain why I feel I am experiencing something worthy of being shared with people, I joined the Peace Corps. In May of 2007 I received a letter telling me that I was invited to serve in Peace Corps Peru and I had ten days to decide whether I would accept and fly out less than a month later or pass it up for another opportunity. I was living in Eau Claire, Wisconsin at the time. I had just returned from Argentina, where I spent my last semester of college and was working at an adequate job. I had signed a lease on my first real place all to my self and when I mentioned the Peace Corps to my boss, they offered me a really great promotion. Somehow, Peru won. I quit my job, got out of my lease, packed my bags, said goodbye to everyone, again, and here I am.

After three months of training with an amazing group in Lima (and living with the best host family anyone could even hope for), I was sent to Huaca Rajada/Sipan, Lambeyeque as a business volunteer. Huaca Rajada is a major archeological site, complete with some incredible tombs and a ton of history. I have been here working to develop tourism and help with the 5 production workshops that an international beneficiary, Cáritas, started. It’s been a trip.

So far in this year I have:
Lived with 2 families
Bathed an average of 2 times a week in the duck coral
Survived 2 turkey attacks (1 of which occurred while bathing in said coral)
Learned to miss rice
Seen the discovery of a very important tomb!
Been to 1 wedding and 2 funerals
Had 1 child named after me
Survived countless stomach illnesses
Taken a lot of bus trips
And met some incredible people.

With all that I have already done, I am realizing I have a lot more to get done and am going to go through a lot more changes. I have recently realized that my current projects aren’t really taking off as planned and are really more stress than they are worth so I am searching out more projects and ideas (maybe something with kids, or turkeys). I am abandoning a lot of my old work colleagues to start moving in a new direction and to start over, in the middle of my service.

Here I go again.