11 Abril 2011

This weekend was a productive weekend in Chivay.
Everything I can’t do in my cite I attempt to accomplish in a few short days every time I go. Now I am about to write a mixture of information that doesn’t really blend together in any particular way. Good luck following.

This week was the first round of presidential elections. Interestingly the leftist extremist ended up on top and the conservative female daughter of the ex-president and civil rights violator came in a not-so-close second. Ollanta and Keiko will continue on to the next round of elections against each other in about a month. I don’t know how Peru continually allows this to happen to themselves: the two presidential candidates they have to choose between are a conundrum.
If Ollanta becomes president he will governmentalize everything he can and it will only be a matter of time before he joins the Chavez, Ortega, Lulay, Correa club. And perhaps like Morales he will boot us (us being Peace Corps) out of the country because he is extremely nationalistic and anti-anywhere-but-Peru. Due to this mentality, I have put my fast-forward hat on (not kidding) with my projects.
If Keiko becomes president, who knows. Seriously, who knows? She has promised the world to the citizens of Peru, and who knows what she will/can actually do.

I had a mission in Chivay: the norm: bathe yourself, buy fruit and veggies. But, this time I decided to find my family a trash can with a sealable lid so the donkey can’t get into the garbage bag and toss everyones secrets around our patio (no one wants to see the things anyone else feels the need to throw away, trust me). Would you believe, a trashcan with a tight lid doesn’t exist for sale in the entire canyon? “No wonder” was the only thing passing through my head. Not only do they not have proper government officials to take away the trash, they don’t even have anywhere to put it in the meantime. Now, I dare you to tell me you wouldn’t burn your trash if no one came to pick it up except some random guy when he feels like it AND you couldn’t get a hold of a trash can to keep the stuff until he came. I finally gave in a forked up a good portion of my monthly income to buy a can whose lid didn’t seal and then paid the blacksmith to build a clamp to keep it donkey-proof. I really can’t afford it, but neither can they, and we need it!

Since the puppies had claimed the chicken coop my host father, sister, and I built a few months ago I have had to pay for my own eggs (craziness, I know). But, they are grown and gone and I bought us four young chickens this weekend. A young man was selling the chickens and promised they were all female. I found a little old woman walking in the market and asked her to help me pick out hens (we have had 5 chickens in the house that were promised to be hens and grew up to be roosters). No one needs one rooster, let alone five. Seriously, I do not get along with roosters. The sweet woman loved that the gringa was not only raising chickens, but also asking for her assistance. She not only picked out the biggest females in the cardboard pin, but she coached me on how to feed them and what remedies to give them if they get sick. They sat on my lap on the crowded van back to Madrigal and stunk up the joint. The good news was the guy sitting next to me smelled worse than my chickens so I didn’t feel so bad.

The married couple that lives in Chivay, Russ and Jean, held a potluck on Sunday as the election results were coming in… and I have to tell you a kitchen full of people who have been forced to make yummy foods out of nothing is a godsend. We all have refined our cooking talents like I would have never guessed. And I must say a little prayer thanking god for all the Mexican blood in the Peace Corps volunteers in my department. Chipotle chicken, guacamole, orchata… oh my Lord, thank you. Then, there was spicy curry with cool yogurt, roasted peanuts, and mango. Then, Kaysi shows up with Italian pasta as we pulled the fresh-baked cookies out of the oven. Maybe, kind of, a little bit of an international food orgy.

That night I slept on an extra bunk and was awoken when my bed started moving. Their cat decided he wanted to sleep with me and I just about cried I missed Mama so much. Today (two days later), I am sitting in bed developing the next talk for the teacher workshop and the family cat crawls into my bed. He hasn’t done this since I first moved here. The filthy littler booger was taking advantage of me I think, and I loved every minute. Beware: if I find a kitten anytime soon, it might become my partner in crime.