Papas for Papás

It’s Saturday, June 20th around 7:30 at night and I’ve been in Peru for two weeks now. So much has gone on in the past week that I need to update you on, but I’m going to start with what is going on right now as I sit in my room.

The Laundry Debacle
I just got back from Lima and Miraflores. All of the PCTs went into the city today for activities and just to hang out. I am exhausted and have just ridden a combi for an hour and a half. On my way up Los Laureles (the street leading into 3 de Octubre) I ran into mi mama, Mario, and mi papa. I was introduced to my host dad – he just got in town today and he works in another department (like states in Peru) 8 hours away – and my host mom told me she straightened my room and did my laundry. After many thanks and mucho gustos, I continued to the house and they continued to Chosica where I’m assuming they are having dinner. A little background information: Susana has done my laundry once before and only the laundry I’ve given her. In training they told us that we were to wash our own socks and underwear so I haven’t been giving those things to her. Instead, I’ve been putting them in my bottom drawer and have been planning to do them on my own. However, this week some of the girls had a great idea and actually got all of their panties and socks dry cleaned/washed at the lavanderia and it only cost them 5 soles so I decided that this would be my plan too (rough life, I know) and I would drop my things off on Monday. Not only would it save me the time of washing 2 weeks worth of underwear/socks, but it would also allow me to NOT have to hang up these things on the line to dry, which is key considering I’m living with 2 teenage boys. I bet you can see where this is going… I get home and ALL of my clothes in my bottom drawer are gone. So basically, right now all of my panties (and there are a lot trust me) are hanging outside on the roof.

The Combis
Okay so I’ve mentioned the combis several times now and they play an important role in my life in Peru so I thought I’d dedicate a whole section to them today. Every day we ride the combi (like a mini-bus) for about 10 to 15 minutes to get to the training center and back. Every day it is an adventure. Most days it is the worst part of my day. Peru does not have any “public” transportation, so to speak. The government privatized the industry so all transport is done through private companies. There are buses, taxis, mototaxis, and combis. I have never seen crazier driving in my life. The first week I was here I didn’t notice it because I was too busy making sure no one was stealing my stuff, but now that I’ve had a chance to actually sit down on one of these things and look out the window, I just don’t understand how I have not seen a car accident. No one pays attention to the lines on the road – even if they are double yellow lines. The drivers get as close as possible to the other cars, like 3 inches away, lay on their horns, hit the windows and tops of taxis to get people to move, and cut everyone off. In between all of this, people walk around on the road trying to sell fruit and chocolate. I hold my breath almost the entire ride. On top of this, there is a conductor type person who works the door and controls when people get on or off. Every time the combi stops he jumps out and starts shouting on the street for people to get on. We’re usually traveling during peak hours with about a million other people on the bus, going to and from class, and we usually have backpacks that we need to keep an eye on because we’re gringos and everyone is wondering what kind of expensive things we have. Add to that that it’s usually dark in the morning and night when we’re traveling so it’s hard to see the almost non-existent land marks we’ve gotten to know at our stop (Los Laureles). The name is difficult to say and not all of the conductors know about it. There have been several times that we’ve gotten off at the wrong place or gone too far and it is seriously frustrating. It was extra annoying on Monday when Christie and I missed the stop even though we told the conductor exactly where we wanted to go, then walked in the opposite direction of where we were supposed to because we didn’t know we missed it, then had to walk all the way back. I will learn many things during training in these 11 weeks. Unfortunately, I don’t think that mastering the combi will be one of them.

Voley
Short update on volleyball… we played Sunday and my team lost which sucked but it was a lot of fun. They play all the time (the women are actually playing right now as we speak) so I’ll definitely play again. I watched a couple times this week and hung out with the little girls who were watching too. They absolutely love talking to us and we played all kinds of games with them in English and Spanish because a lot of them have an interest in learning English. It’s so cute because whenever I’m walking through the town or on the playground they all say hello to me and come up and give me a hug and a kiss… I love the kids here!

Interviewing Random People
So PC language training is great! Immersion really helps and I understand a lot more and am increasing my vocabulary. With time, I know I’ll be able to speak pretty well. However, there is a joke among the PCTs about some of the activities we have to do to learn and I’ll share some of our experiences with you. The usual set up is we have class and learn about certain topics: false money, transportation, greetings, shopping, careers, etc. Then, inevitably, we go out in the community to put these skills to practice. Great, right!?! Every time we go anywhere in class we all know what’s coming. We’re going to have to go up to random people and talk to them about whatever we learned in class that day. So far I’ve had to go up to people enjoying an afternoon walk and ask them about where they’re from, what they do, and how old they are. I’ve asked policemen what the safe places of certain areas are and how to avoid becoming a victim to crime. I’ve talked to store owners about how long they’ve owned their shops and other volunteers have had to bargain with shoe salesmen knowing full well they weren’t going to buy anything. We’ve interviewed the owner of a hair shop and had to explain that no, we did not want any haircuts, but we are here at 10am to ask about your life. For one project, we had to find people to write out their entire daily schedule for us and to draw maps of our communities in order to see different perspectives people have of where they live. Try to explain to someone that no, I don’t need an official map of Yanacoto even though you are willing to give it to me. I need you to actually draw a map. FODA (SWOT analysis in Spanish) has been drilled into our heads and there have been countless victims who have had to bear our questioning about their communities’ strengths, weaknesses, opportunities, and threats. There are so many more examples of this! The problem is, when a group of gringos goes up to people here, they think we have something important to do even though we’re just trying to learn Spanish. Examples of this: we went to Chosica to practice bargaining with the people there at the market. Afterwards, we had time to kill so they sent us on a mission to talk to three people in Chosica about themselves, basic information like age, job, home town, etc. My group went up to what looked like an office building to see if anyone was there. Outside, there was a guy meandering around so we tried to talk to him and he told us to wait. He went into the church next door and got the priest of the parish to talk to us, give us a tour of the church (full history included) and the high school. We probably understood about half of what he said and I felt so awkward because we just wanted to know how long he had lived there! We went to the medical post in 3 de Octubre and got a tour of the whole center and had an hour long talk with the doctor who wanted to talk to us even though patients were waiting. All of these things are great opportunities and exactly what all of us hope to see at our sites, but it’s difficult when people don’t understand what we’re doing. I don’t know if I’ve been able to convey in this section though how hilarious we find it though. We have sat at meals literally crying laughing over the things we’ve talked to people about and what they must think about us.

Chosica, Lima, Miraflores
I’ve gotten a few chances to travel to places outside of Chaclacayo in the 2 weeks that I’ve been here. Chosica is a suburb of Lima just like Chaclacayo about 20 minutes from my house. It’s much bigger than Chaclacayo with a huge market on the weekends with fruit, vegetables, meat, spices, jewelry, rice, etc. Last Sunday when we went we got beads to make earrings because my hermanos and host mom know how to make them. Mario has made me a couple pairs and I’m going to be wearing the bright blue ones tomorrow. Like I said earlier, everyone went to Lima on this weekend and it was a lot of fun! We had to do the various activities that we always have to do when we’re practicing language, but we got to see a new city while we were doing it. We saw the city center, Chinatown (there’s one in every big city) and black market pet markets, among other things. The center is really pretty with beautiful Spanish architecture but it gets shabby in parts. It also, perhaps most notably, had a Dunkin Donuts which we took full advantage of. After a morning in Lima, we headed to Miraflores, a beautiful town on the coast for lunch and shopping. I saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time! It looks just like the Atlantic Ocean but was still pretty even though it was cloudy out. We ate at a Mexican restaurant and spent our entire week’s pay on one meal. No regrets.

Feliz Cumpleanos
I want to end this post with my favorite story of the week because I feel like I’ve been pretty critical today. I’m really enjoying myself here and moments like the one I’m about to tell you about make the combi rides and random awkward interviews worth it. Friday night was my host mom’s dad’s (aka grandpa to the boys/abuelo) birthday. His name is Charlie and he turned 67 and all of the family came over to celebrate. Birthdays here are really similar to what we do at home. There is cake, dancing, presents, and of course, drinks. There is one part of the night, however, that I think they do better than us. After we sang happy birthday (they sing the first verse in English and the second in Spanish) and before we cut the cake, every person there, including the youngest grandchildren, went around and said something special about their grandfather, wishing him a happy birthday. It went from oldest to youngest so Susana started (she’s the oldest of 6 kids). She actually started to tear up while she was talking and what she said was very heartfelt. They all thanked him for everything he’s done for the family, for his advice, for teaching them about themselves and the world, for his dedication to them. They expressed that they were thankful that they could all come together as a family to be with him on his birthday. They wished him a feliz cumpleanos and many more happy years. I was not exempt from speaking so I did my best to also say something meaningful (in broken Spanish) and I think I got the point across. I told him that even though I hadn’t been there for very long, I had really gotten to know his family. They are wonderful and caring people who have gone out of their way to make me feel welcome. I said they are living tributes to the way he raised his children and the way he lives his life. The point is that I really felt a part of the family and it was a great way to start off a night that would end up lasting until 3am even though we all had early mornings on Saturday.

I am continually surprised by these people’s acceptance of a stranger into their homes and lives. Picures will be coming soon, I only have a few more minutes left on the internet since I spent all of my money on Saturday, but get excited because they´re going to be good!

Hasta luego,

Steph