Here is the silly part (this demonstrates just how incredibly unmindful I can be sometimes), I pretty much forgot to eat. I specifically packed granola bars my mom sent me and gobbled them up when I got on the bus at 6 the morning, but as we travelled to the towns, there literally wasn't anywhere I wanted to eat, and I didn't want to spend the time to eat.
I am pretty sure I have been this much of a picky brat my whole life; if there isn't anything yummy around, I would rather not eat.
This is not a good moto to have when all you are surrounded by is alpaca jerkey, rice, lima-esque beans, potatoes, and minimal canned goods (and everything is covered in flies until you swat them off and stick it in your mouth).
My turned up nose keeps me bringing in food from arequipa and cooking all the time. But, on the road yesterday, cooking was no option, and there is no McDonald's drive through. Around 4pm I grabbed a small package of crackers and set off to the last town and convinced myself I would eat when I returned to Chivay to catch my evening bus to Arequipa.
I hopped out of the taxi that I had rented for the day and had rented in the past (the driver is the cousin of a friend). I had fronted the money for the taxis until the NGO arrived from the States and could pay me back. Unfortunately, that left my small stipend severely diminished for the month and after I payed the taxi driver the usual s/.160 he says, "It is a little bit more because we had to go down the canyon this time to cross to Madrigal." Dammit! There goes my dinner money. I knew once I arrived in Arequipa I could meet with the NGO and be reimbursed the s/.350 they owed me total for transportation, that or Cesar would feed me (haha, poor little old me... I do this to myself). So, I used one of my last few sole to buy a bottle of water, chugged half of it, then forgot it in the bus terminal.
How Kafkian of me. I just continued to dig my own hole deeper and deeper.
At 10pm Cesar met me at the bus station and I was a feeble little toothpick attempting to lug a week's worth of clothes in a dirty backpack. Needless to say, he held me like the stupid child I was and I was fed immediately.
How appropriate that I am reading "The financial Lives of Poets" by Jess Walter.
But... The day was very successful. Everything (well almost everything) is ready for the dentists arrival. The spaces are donated for them to work, the rooms for them to sleep, the permissions at local, departmental, and national levels are aligned, and marketing is complete. It feels darn good, let me tell ya.
Special Thank You to PCV America Campos for helping me hang posters and returning to the sites again this weekend to hang more.
No comments:
Post a Comment