April 12, 2007- Back in action

It seems that no matter how many blog entries I think I am writing, I remain seriously indebted to this online journal of mine. I just got my computer back from the shop after it again decided to take a hiatus that we didn´t agree upon. It typically takes the guys at the shop 2 weeks to a month to ¨fix¨ it, and this time I am pretty sure they charged me for things they didn’t even do. My theory is that my computer serendipitously started working on its own, and the guys figured they could just mumble off some technical terms in Spanish and charge me for a job my computer did all by itself. They succeeded in their plot because I didn’t feel like mustering up the few argumentative Spanish words I know.

So here my computer and I sit, trying to remember what has occurred within the last month. My work finally seems to be coming together, and I am happy to report that I have 12 presentations planned in the schools for next week; some on nutrition and some on sex ed. I prefer the nutrition charlas (as we call them down here) because they don´t involve the kids laughing hysterically every time I say penis or vagina, or when I slip a condom on a cucumber. I´d rather skip those sex ed charlas all together, but considering most everyone in my community over 17 years old has a baby or a few, I guess this type of education is lacking. It´s so difficult to make friends in my community because everyone my age has a family to care for, and more responsibilities than I can relate to. Sometimes I think that the people in my town (girls especially) think that my existence is really perverse. Why would I willingly move to another country away from my family? Why don´t I have kids yet? Why is education so important to me? Will I EVER get married? If I can at least find some ground on which we can relate to one another by the end of my two years here, that will be enough of an accomplishment for me. It is interesting how many people feel pressured to get married and have kids in the states, considering we have so many other purposeful options there. Here, where not so many opportunities exist, the above mentality makes more sense.

Speaking of the girls and women in my town, you should see what hard workers they are. Just seeing them walk down the path to the main road makes me doubt my own strength. It is not uncommon to see a petite woman with two children strapped on her back, a live turkey tucked under her left arm (trying its hardest to peck her eyes out), and two large vats of milk in her other arm (probably weighing in at 10 kilos each). I see them towards the end of their journey since I live close to the road, but many of them travel 2 hours on foot before even getting to my house, and they look more energized than ever. That is something that I will never become desensitized to. How do these women cook every meal for their large families, care for all of their children, livestock, and land, and still have time and energy to endure the long and daily haul to the market? I get a kick out of how people travel here. In the states, it is barely acceptable to travel with your pet. Here, people load themselves onto the bus with any animal they can carry down to the bus stop, which makes for an interesting ride since all livestock is uncaged and restless (probably sensing their impending deaths). At first it really bothered me that I was paying to sit in a stinky bus only to have chickens peck at my ankles, but now I appreciate how relaxed everything is. It gives me room to get away with anything I want, but somehow I don’t see myself transporting a cow anytime soon.

My taxi driver hit a motorcyclist a couple of weeks ago. We managed to hit the only person in Peru I have ever seen wearing a helmet, which was very fortunate for him. And for me, since watching someone die might be my biggest fear. I could have killed my taxi driver though. I thought his response time was so quick when he pulled over and flew out of his car. I assumed I was about to witness some heroic act on his part, but instead of running to the victim´s side, he bolted to the side of his taxi to inspect the damage. After assessing only minimal damage, he got back into the car and drove off, saying to me, ¨I can´t believe that guy just hit us.¨ Uh….yeah, that´s not exactly what happened. I guess his attachment to his vehicle shouldn’t surprise me, since a baptism for a BUS just occurred in Kristen´s site.

In other news, a duck recently fell into our latrine, which holds all of my family’s feces from the last five years (but not mine, since I have started going in my room in a salad bowl). You shouldn´t judge though, for two reasons. One, the stench of the latrine is unbearable and once night comes, it is too dark to venture out to the dark abyss we call an outhouse. Two, if you are going to judge me for my repugnant behavior, I have to point out that I have converted two other volunteers to the salad bowl shitting squad. I won´t mention their names because I don´t want to discomfit them, but I am just saying that it can´t be all that bad if I have followers. Anyway, back to the duck who lost his balance. The day after this occurred, a new dish showed up in front of me. It was a delicious mixture of what tasted like octopus in a red vegetable sauce, served over rice. I wolfed it down, and afterwards, tuned into the conversation my family was having. They kept saying ¨duck¨, but they weren´t doing it in relation to the latrine incident. They were actually talking about how they went about cooking the octopus-tasting duck they just served me. Yes, this means that I ate a duck that was previously covered in urine and feces. I excused myself and proceeded upstairs to dry heave into the salad bowl formerly (and presently) known as my toilet. Some things are just too much for me to handle. At what point do these people declare a piece of meat bad? After resting dead in a river for a day? Nope. After falling in our collective bowel movements? Nah.

I just returned back from an amazing Easter vacation. Easter happens to be one of the few holidays where Peace Corps volunteers can travel without taking vacation days. A few of us actually received an extended vacation when we were invited to a Seder ceremony at our country director´s house in Lima. My good friend Hana (my favorite Jew) had her parents visiting from the states during this time. Her dad, who is a Rabbi, led the ceremony and wanted it to be interfaith, so a few of us ¨chosen people¨ were able to attend. Her father was extremely accommodating and sympathetic to those of us who know very little about Judaism. We read from a very hip and updated religious text, and had a blast doing so. After hanging out with the Schein family for a bit, we met up with a group of 12 to spend our vacation in Ica, which is 3 hours south of Lima on the coast. That region is known for its wineries, but Peruvian wine is grossly sweet, so I didn´t partake in any wine tours. Pisco is also made down there, which is an alcohol used to make the national drink, the Pisco sour, a delicious mix of lime, Pisco, egg whites, and sugar (and other ingredients I am probably forgetting). We stayed in Huacachina, a serene oasis consisting of a lagoon (known to have healing powers) nestled between large sand dunes. The most popular things to do here are to dune buggy and sand board, and take excursions to the famous Nazca lines and Ballestas Islands (often called the poor man´s Galapagos). While the Nazca lines were too expensive to conquer during this trip, we basically did every other excursion possible. Despite damaging some cartilage in my knee and not being able to walk without leaning on someone, Huacachina was way fun. I tell you, you never can be too careful while turning over in bed. Some pretty serious knee injuries can occur in the least likely environments. I was told I couldn’t lie and say I hurt myself while ¨shredding some sand on the dunes¨ or however that expression goes, so here rests the truth. While in Huacachina, we took a boat out to the Islands where we saw every bird imaginable, along with a hefty harem of seals and sea lions. We weren’t able to make it back for our sand boarding appointment, so they stretched the rules a bit and took us out in the dark. It was exhilarating to fly over the dunes in a buggy through the pitch black, and while I wasn’t able to stand on my board, they let us go down on our bellies which ended up being more fun anyway. It ended up being a really satisfying vacation, followed by missing 2 buses in attempting to get home, but that’s another story all together.