18 Octubre 2011

Parasite #2... check

start the meds today and head back to the canyon.

Plans for the month:
Volar A Las Estrellas after school program
translate for another medical campaign with Quechua Benefit
master bread making in my new wood burning oven :-)

17 Septiembre 2011

Today I woke up to a loving text message,

“Do you want to get some coffee today? Or I can cook you lunch. My morning is free for you.”

I had met a young woman about 3 or 4 months ago in the combi from Madrigal to Chivay. We made casual conversation and ended up realizing we had a ton in common. Her family is from Madrigal, she lives in Arequipa right now because she is studying English and Art. She has a degree in Education, and is always all smiles. She is just the sweetest, post positive thing in the world (ok, so maybe we don’t have that in common).

When I come into the city I ring her, and when she is in Madrigal she finds me (she even came to see me speak at the “Strong Women’s Convention” last month.

Being the dedicated Peace Corps Volunteer that I am, I immediately imagined her running the VALE program after I leave.

Today, we got coffee to discuss. All I can say is, she gets it. She not only understands the importance of the program, but loves the idea of it. She even has some ideas to make the art projects easier. She got me way too excited about the potential of the program. She brought up expanding it to other towns not even knowing that was my pipe dream and that some villages have already expressed interest. To top it off, her family lives in Madrigal, so she would want to be there (for most professionals, moving to the villages is like a punishment because they are so cut off).

Seeing this program as something seriously sustainable makes my stomach turn with excitement. My brain just starts running with ideas and doesn’t stop. But now, the question is… funding.

The plan:

Finish the next 3 months of the program in Madrigal.

Run the data to determine its success.

(if successful in reaching its goals) Advertise its success like a crazy person to Peace Corps volunteers and staff all over the country, to other villages in the canyon, and to potential funders (Municipalities, The Ministry of Education, NGOs, philanthropists).

Train Lucia on how to manage the program.

Run second round of program in Madrigal.

Then… depending on funding and being able to find other professionals interested in teaching in the canyon… begin to teach other community leaders on how to develop the program.

Monitor success of the programs (from afar? Or extend my service a third year?)

Serious chimera.

“Some of the world’s greatest feats were accomplished by people not smart enough to know they were impossible. -Doug Larson

13 Septiembre 2011 take two

I don’t always publish these kinds of conversations because they are just so much of a downer, but, every once in a while these experiences should probably be shared…

Last night I pulled aside one of the young women I am closest to in Madrigal.

“You seem distant, what’s up?”

silence, no eye contact

“you can talk to me about whatever it is. Is it school? Your family? Your friends?”

silence

more coaxing… a lot more coaxing I won’t bore you with, then…

silent tears

“sometimes when I cry and talk about my feelings it doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps me figure our how to deal with the problem and then I feel better.”

Sobbing for a few minutes, still no words had come out of her… then… she has a subtl explosion of sharing…

“It’s my parents. Sometimes, when they get drunk, they fight. And when they fight, they say they are going to separate.”

“Do they talk like that when they are sober?”

“No.”

“Remember when you tied the donkey up poorly and he escaped, and when your dad got home drunk he yelled at you really strongly? That day you and I talked about how the man that yelled at you wasn’t really your dad, and the things he said your dad would never say. That drunk man was someone different from your father that loves you. Remember that day?”

nod

“This is the same, your dad drunk is a different person than your dad sober. Your mom drunk is a different person than your mother sober. So when they argue drunk, they say things they don’t mean and might not even remember.”

More tears

We discussed why her parents separating would make her sad, and how no matter what happens between her parents they both love her very much.

As we are discussing how much her parents love her it is all I can do to contain my fury at her mother and father for getting drunk so much and fighting in front of her. But, what are they to do? What is she to do? They all live in one room.  It isn’t like they can step into their bedroom and shut the door. The whole family’s beds are right next to each other.

We talked about her putting in her headphones and listening to the pre-recorded music on the family’s cell phone when they fight, or going to the table she has set up next to the corn storage to do her homework to read a book. As I am inviting her to come to me in my little hut anytime she needs to get away from them, I twinge of doubt crawls up my spine.

I can’t tell every child here that is neglected or abused to come to me whenever they need to escape. I would have more than I would ever be able to handle.

Even with a program that is unfolding successfully within its goals, I still feel this twinge of guilt that I could be capable of more. This delicate balance to maintaining my own happiness and sanity while conquering as many needs here as possible is constantly teetering. Great, so you have instilled curiosity, accessibility to information, and leadership skills in the kids here, but what about the malnutrition, domestic violence, alcoholism, and lack of family planning (aka prego teenagers and single mothers)? When I am crazy obsessed with my work I start to get lonely and depressed. When I take time for myself to go camping or read a book I start to feel guilty that I am not getting as much done as I did when I was consumed by work.

I am here as a youth development volunteer, so I have a specific set of goals to work under. But, if I could just focus on women and mothers in the community, or just focus on greenhouses and teaching balanced diets, or even water filters and solar ovens for a year there could be effect in so many different ways.

This community needs more. They need more role models. They need more mentors. Children to adults here really do want to learn… but, they have been left behind by the rest of the world.

This blog goes out to Michelle Davis and all the volunteers of Liderazgo en Red, and Paul Lopez and all the volunteers of Project Mentor. The work you do as mentors is so important. Even if we cannot work out bringing mentors to Madrigal, with all my heart, I wish you the best of luck and appreciation for what you do in City outskirts. 

13 Septiembre 2011

We had to do some curriculum shuffling this week (=lu stressed). We couldn’t do the next two weeks of classes because I haven’t been able to get their supplies out of customs yet. Fortunately, the African culture class only required I get my hands on some potatoes. No problem.

So, we jumped ahead 3 weeks.

Tuesdays are for 3^rd, 4^th, and 5^th graders. As they were finishing decorating our pretend kete cloth papers in the traditional adinkra clothing fashion from Ghana, one little guy came up to me with a hollowed out egg shell. He holds it up for me to see.

Assuming he must have gotten his hands on an egg one of the older kids did for Russia week in the traditional pyansky style I ask,

“Wow, where did you find that?”

“I did it.”

“You did?! Wow.”

One of his classmates announces, “He wants to paint it.”

Surprised at all of their knowledge I ask, “Who taught you how to do that?”

His compañera speaks for him again, “His big sister.”

Not only does this mean that his older sister completed all the stages of learning by teaching, but she taught him well.

Stunned and proud, I set him up in his own little space with some tempera paints and showed him how to use a brush properly with 12 other ears huddled around watching intently. As I explained what a pyansky egg is to his classmates, he delicately painted away.

Here are some photos of the adinkra project...

The VALE program turn-out has astounded me. We had 107 kids sign up (remember Madrigal has a population of about 700), and I assumed we would lose about 20% optimistically. I budgeted for 80 students. The VALE committee (made of all female teachers and mothers) told me to realistically expect 40 a week, or 10 a day.

I told myself that only 10 a day would be fabulous. If only half of those 10 completed all the stages of learning for each topic we discuss, they could become great leaders and influential in their community as they grow older.

But, with 25-30 kids attending a day, and assuming half of them complete all the stages of learning, that leaves about 60 strong, curious, knowledgeable, leaders in Madrigal.

I can’t really comprehend what kind of effect that will have on Madrigal as a community.

But, it does give me faith in their new found curiosity just might be strong enough to support a community library. I just hope the attendance keeps up. 

12 Septiembre 2011

Today’s African acapella music kept the kids very lively while working on today’s kete cloth art project.

It is unexplainable how, when that cd ended and I put on some classical music, the children calmed.

“Where is this music from, Srta. Luz?”

“This music is from in Europe. The german composer is famous, his name was Mozart.”

“Well I have never heard of him.”

“No, probably not. But, do you like his music?”

*nod*

This conversation felt like a huge success for me, because not only does it show me that he now knows music comes from a place and a culture, but he is curious enough to ask about it.

Proud. 

10 Septiembre 2011 take two

After our one year med checks and in-service training we were given letters we wrote to ourselves a year ago. I thought I would share it with you…

“I hope with all my heart that you are healthy and falling in love with Madrigal. I hope that you have come to identify with the town as your town. I wish you could tell me the projects to throw all my energy into. Right now, I am scared and oh so excited all at the same time. Scared about food, bathing, comfort, and the unexpected. Will I be able to come to eat and enjoy the food? Will I feel good bathing only once a week? Will my motivation and positive energy dampen when I am not living in comfort?

Don’t forget that you want this oh, so much. You belong here. You want this organic lifestyle. You want to get in touch with the Earth. You want to more-than-know this culture, you want ot feel it. You earned the right to live in this.

I wish you could tell me what you have already learned. I am sure you are already becoming someone I admire today. Keep up the strong, motivated work.

Remember, you are loved. There are literally hundreds of people that want you to do well and will give you all the support they have any day of the week, any time of day.  You are so lucky.

Love every minute of this.

Feel the sadness

Feel the weakness

Feel the strength

Feel the joy.”

Reading this excited, clueless Peace Corps Trainee’s positive words threw me into her mind again.

Dear lu,

I am happy, and healthy, and very much in love with Madrigal. Yes, this town is a part of me now, and will forever be. I actually don’t know how I will leave it in 10 months.
Don’t doubt yourself with projects. The things bubbling in your mind today: keep them simmering, they will be your most successful projects.

You are rightfully afraid about food, bathing, and comfort. You are going to be uncomfortable, dirty, smelly, and hungry; but you will get used to it. You will not get used to their flavorless, starchy food. But, you will learn to use the accessible ingredients to create things you enjoy. What you don’ t know is how much you will miss art and how much that will effect your daily life and your mood. Your motivation and positive energy comes from meditation and creativity. Balancing the chores of everyday life and your program responsibilities doesn’t leave you much time for art and chanting, so yes, your optimism will wax and wane. But, you will make it through stronger for it.

I have gotten in touch with the Earth. You would never guess, but now you can raise all your own food as needed; Animal and plant. This will be a part of your life forever. You don’t know everything, and still might have a bit of a black thumb, but that biggest step has been taken and you now know how to get yourself started.

Let me tell ya, I feel that weakness, sadness, strength, and joy. All of them. All the time.

But, you were right, I belong here. I have a strong love for this lifestyle, and eat up every minute of learning. I can only hope that I am becoming the woman you want me to be. 

10 Septiembre 2011

The past week was spent in Lima for my training group's one year med-checks.

I am proud to report 100% healthfulness, and not a cavity :-)
(Grandma, you can stop worrying about whether I take care of myself or not)

It was a week of good food, good friends, and hot showers (yup, I took about 2 a day).
Now, we leave the pollution and over crowdedness for our secluded countryside beauty, yet again.

31 Agosto 2011

Because of the anniversary celebration, VALE was cancelled Monday and Tuesday. So, I planned to squish all of the Primary school into today, and all of the Secondary School into tomorrow. I was worried I would not be able to handle the 40+ kids that would probably turn up.

But, via some unfortunate gift the municipal speaker system is down. I could not call the youth as I do just as VALE is about to start every day. And, as the days had changed this week they had no way to know it was happening. So, with the 4 kids that followed me down the street to the library, I began.

By the end of the hour, we had about 25 VALE youth in attendance. Today we traveled to Japan. In the usual country exploration profile we learned about art and culture, how to count to ten, and phrases like ‘Konichi wa’ or ‘arigato’.

As children were arriving late this week, I left the youth who had arrived on time in charge or teaching their tardy buddies. It was beautiful to see the very young teaching their older siblings, the boys teaching the girls, and the girls teaching the boys patiently.

Once they finished their calligraphic and flowered Japanese style fans, we started some very simple origami hats and cups. As we finished the hats Luis held up an origami swan. I smiled broadly and asked him to come up and teach the class. Confident but quiet he took us through the steps.

“Wait for them to do what you have instructed before you move on.”

“But how do I know if they are ready?”

“Ask them.”

Today, Luis learned how to teach, and he will practice again tomorrow in front of the Secondary school youth. I am so proud of him.

We also might have had a little flood when I got to the library today that caused a little panic in my heart. But, all is taken care of now, and the youth themselves cleaned up their space and materials. Not a book was sacrificed. Thank God.

I want to learn a tonal language.

“Sound is like touch, at a distance.’

-Ann Fernold

Director of Infant Studies

Stanford University

30 Agosto 2011

Today was the anniversary celebration of Madrigal.

Like last year, I danced in the competition with the “Women Farmers”.

Unlike last year, we lost.

I have to admit that my favorite part was that I got to wear a costume that dangled coins over my forehead.

I was the Champi that is some sort of king representing local symbols like corn and the condor.

It was fun to compare the emotions of last year to that of today’s experience. The nervousness and unfamiliarity seized me last year. This year was casual and comfortable.

25 Agosto 2011

The wonderful Lindsay Potts has sent me books and letters throughout my service. Thank you a thousand times, Lindsay. It is amazing how similarly her taste and mine parallel. The book “Just Kids” published in 2010 by the famous Patti Smith was placed on my fruit crate bookshelf only for Gray to find when going through my collection of “to-be-read”. I immediately went to my itunes, and yes, someone, once upon a time, passed me some of the songs from her Horses album. I sat on the bed with Gray and we listened to her sound as if for the first time.

It took another week, and for Gray to go on another adventure into the mountains while I stayed back to work at the after school program, for me to actually crack the black book open. I had avoided this, her love story with Richard Mapplethorpe, for obvious reasons. The epitome of loneliness probably shouldn’t be participating in someone else’s love life, even if it is through script only. But now that I am experiencing the world with another young adventurer, it seemed a good moment.

My relationship with Patti has rocketed only 100 pages in. While this confused young woman she writes about doesn’t have quite the mission to save the world I have so naively possessed, her need to live through art yokes me to her. Her writing and rhythm feels so similar to mine that if it weren’t for her prodigious vocabulary you could probably confuse my own oeuvre for parts of hers. The young woman yearns to leave her hometown and know the world. She risks security and her health to not only meet people and earth, but to make art.

“Where does it all lead? What will become of us? These were our young questions, and young answers were revealed. It leads to each other. We become ourselves.”

This is the only quote in the book I have actually dug out a pencil to underline. It echoes the Rilka quote when speaking to a young poet,

“…live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then someday… … you will live your way into the answer.”

But, what I love about Patti’s quote is that it speaks to the communal nature to humanity (though it may be a little mocking of young relationships). Our personal, young confusion only finds its answers through knowing others and living our confusion. It is only through simultaneously living our questions and the answers we have stumbled upon, do we begin to find ourselves and loved ones.

I love thinking of life this way. I love how this thought promotes world travel, curiosity, reading, questioning, conversing, listening, and loving. There is no irony in the fact that both of these writers are divulging information of and to the young. I like to think that that is all of us. So long as we are living our questions through knowing each other, will we be forever young?

22 Agosto 2011

VALE continues on with much success.

22 Primary school students learned how to count to ten in Russian today and made papier mache maytruska dolls as we listened to Russian gypsy music.

Every now and then I would stop the music,

“What are these dolls called?”

“Maytrushka!” In unison

“I can’t hear you…”

“Maytrushka!!!”

“And where do they come from?”

“Russia!!!”

cute.

Jesús got some washable paint on his face, realized it felt cool and painted up his face some more just as he noticed my gaze on him. He froze as I took paint from the table and put it on the face of the kid next to me. Realizing they weren't going to get in trouble we had an all out finger paint war. Mind you, these paints are completely wash out of everything-able.

One of the moms came in the room and we all froze, including myself afraid of the trouble we were about to get into.

"Sure, you send him home to me like this and I'll clean him up. But look at the mess you have ahead of you..." She laughed.

The older kids blew out the innards of eggs and painted them in the traditional russian pyansky style. This delicate use of the hands is something very foreign, and so important for the brain. I am pretty proud of how they dedicated their strong fingers to become more gentle and articulate. They stayed well past sunset to detail their eggs.

20 Agosto 2011

Tired.

Tired of missing home.

tired of missing friends

tired of missing family

tired of missing comfort

tired of missing art

tired of missing food.

So… we built an oven.

She is a lovely little wood burning stone oven right outside my bedroom door. Bread, cookies, cakes and pizza… here I come!

17 Agosto 2011

Today I was sitting in the library preparing for the high school kids’ arrival when some of the elementary little ones showed up. I told them they could come back after 5 to get homework help, knowing very well they were just looking for a form of entertainment which is why I started the after school program in the first place.

In the library I always have classical music playing. I have a few cd compilations of well known (to Westerners) pieces and artists that are constant background. The little ladies were hanging out in the hall outside the library and the cd finished. I stood up to put in another and the girls ran in the room and asked me to play the same on again. Not understanding why, I said I was going to put in another. They requested the same kind of music, and I agreed. Quickly they surried back out into the hall. I peeked around the corner, curiously, to find them dancing what one would call, “ballet moves”. Natrually, I cried a little. They froze when they saw me. Immediately thoughts to teaching dance here came flooding through my mind.

“That dancing you are doing, where have you seen it before?”

“On TV.”

“Do you know what that kind of dance is called.”

She looks down and shakes her head.

“What kind of clothes where they wearing?”

She makes a shape with her hands signifying a strapless top, “Like this, then it goes down to a fluffy skirt with lots of layers… it’s a short skirt.”

And of course, the tears come back, but fortunately not one falls.

“That kind of dance is called ballet.”

She knods.

“What is that kind of dance called?”

“ballet”

“Turn the volume up and dance for me more, please!”

“Yay!” they yelp in unison as they run together and spin in and out or arabesque poses.

The few volunteers that I work with that know of my professional past have encouraged me to give dance classes. To which I respond with excuses of, “How?” no mirror, no shoes, no tights, no leotards, no proper floor, no barre, etc. There wasn’t an ounce of me that wanted to teach dance before. If I did, it would have been purely out of feeling an obligation to do so. Feeling a need to teach them body awareness and pride through movement. But, today, my mind changed…

It could be beautiful for me and for them.

Would it be possible, this late in the game, to undertake that missions of physical self awareness?

16 Agosto 2011

Today was an exemplary Peace Corps day.

At the end of the day, I walk away feeling tired and lonely, but successful. Very successful.

The morning was spent doing the weekly clean. Scrubbing the stove, washing the sheets, and taking a layer off the dirt floor and everything else.

Then, as laundry was taking away the hours of the day Elvis arrived from the estancia with his father. For the first time, ever, his father was sober. And, surprisingly, quite a gentleman; Respectful, keeping well out of my personally bubble, and speaking to me in the formal Usted Spanish conjugation. That’s a first. Guests from the estancia means fresh meat!

I made some black tea and headed to the library to set up for VALE. The kids arrived only about 5 minutes late, and we began.

The class was heavenly and advanced quickly. We covered all the goals I had for the day in 45 minutes. Earth’s multiple rotations and how those form days, years, and seasons. The moon. The Sun. They did the day’s art project. They did the physical activity. We reviewed. And, I still had their eyes and ears for 15 more minutes. So I opened up an activity that I had planned for the older classes and modified it in about 30 seconds for them. We got on my computer and looked at the planets in relation to one another and discussed what satellites are. Every single topic, today, was new to over 90% of the class. They had some sort of understanding of night and day and seasons, but it wasn’t complete. They were missing the visualization of the spinning at the rotating which we did, today, not only on paper, but with Styrofoam balls and flashlights, bodies, and finally digital images.

Over half the class was there well past the hour mark finishing their solar system diagrams. I encouraged them to make the planets however they wanted, and it was incredible to see the creativity balled up inside them. Often, in this Catholic educational system, they are encouraged to copy, and learn to want to copy. Somehow, today, we started to see a spark of individuality and excitement for it. Copying still took place, but one could see the potential for this to break in the not-so-distant future.

As we finished cleaning up, I ran into Marcos. He is a mentally disabled individual that does some really great woodwork under the instruction of my yoga buddy and friend. Veronica was hired by the government to come here 4 days a week to teach wood work and sewing on machines also provided by the government. I hired Marcos to make the library pencil, pen, and paintbrush holders, I just needed to get Marcos wood. Last week when returning for Arequipa I had stopped the car to hop out and get lumber from a local organic farming NGO. They politely provided me with a trunk perfect for the project. Today, I handed over the wood to Marcos and Veronica made plans with him to do the project together.

I had barely stepped out of meeting with them when a little one saw me walk by her front door and asked for homework help. In a round about we headed back to the library. I flicked the lights on again and we sat down as a stream of kids poured in the room.

Can we come in?

To do what?

Read?

What books? We don’t have any books yet. Do you have books you can bring?

Silence and wondering eyes… No.

Would you like to color?

Unanimously, yes!

I turned on the classical music that is always playing quietly in the background in the library, and the group sat and colored away while Elizabith and I discussed the different locations for a ‘subject’ in a sentence as she completed her homework.

There was one beautiful point where these normally trouble-making boys were sitting in silence coloring away and Beethoven’s nocturne in eflat minor came on. I could have cried.

They all helped clean up, and the girls and I headed to the street hand in hand.

When I got home, the idea of cooking was exhausting. And, I officially decided I absolutely did not bring enough back from Arequipa this last trip. Too distracted and tired from VALE project shopping, I never did any grocery shopping for myself.

This is when my host mother’s telepathic capabilities swooped in and saved the day.

“Did Roxana offer you food? Are you hungry? I cooked fresh meat!”

My Lord I love that woman. Fresh spicy alpaca meat with her version of caramelized onions and rice. She served me my usual small portion, realized I was hungry as I gobbled it down and served me another plate. Roxana wasn’t feeling well, so Doña Juana and I sat and chatted for a while in their room.

The whole day was so comfortable. It had a rhythm. It felt in sync. I felt in sync with the community. I fit here and it feels good. I wish I could share the experience.

My belongingness concluded with nurturing Roxana as she wasn’t feeling well. Bringing her tea and natural remedies from my part of the world as her mother encouraged her to try them. There are no words for the trust there.

Now, I can only hope that the next 4 months of the VALE program are as successful and rewarding as today was, even if it did feel a little lonesome.

15 Agosto 2011 take two

Mondays are with 1^st, 2^nd, and 3^rd graders.

positives of first day of VALE

1. 24 children showed up. That is four more students that I estimated optimistically

2. all but 2 were on time

3. they were all excited and happy the whole hour

4. they all learned something new

negatives

1. they were all so excited it was extremely challenging to keep their attention and have fun at the same time

2. we only covered half of the materials and activities that I had planned

When writting curriculum, I always over plan. I would rather have too much to do and give them more information than they need, than run out of activities to fill the time. Staring at a room full of kids with nothing for them is probably the worst feeling in the universe. But, only doing half the day’s activities wasn’t in today’s stratagem.

I used methods to control the kids that I learned counseloring in summer camps, and they worked well as before, but I lose these kids faster than children I have worked with in the past. I get their ears and eyes all on me, then they are literally gone again in less than 60 seconds.

I might have to look at a new way of teaching them if things don’t improve once their excitement for the program wanes a little. I might just sit at the table working on a project, and as thy come in allow them to copy what I am doing and ask questions on their own time instead of trying to manage an entire class and keep them all operating at the same wave-length together. IT might even encourage some independence and investigation if they have to find the supplies they need in the room to do what I am doing.

We will see.

15 Agosto 2011

“ Silence embraced stuns with its presence, it’s pregnant reality. A reality that does not negate reason and argument, but puts them in their place.” –Krista Tippet

Rilka’s advice to a young poet, “To have patience with everything unresolved in your heart; and, to try to love the questions themselves, as if they were locked rooms, or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them, and the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

While waiting in line for the ATM yesterday in the city, the woman of a couple ahead of me asked if I live in Arequipa. I was shopping in the market part of town where you rarely to never find tourists, and my white skin gave me away. I explained that I actually lived in the colca canyon, more of a shock. These conversations happen all the time and are followed by an explanation of what Peace Corps is, and what I do. I explained that I studied psychology, interrupting, she grabbed my wrist and asked if she could talk to me about her son. I resisted and explained that I am not a licensed psychologist, but she insisted even a little advice would help and fell into her “problem”. Her husband joined in as they both explained that they had paid for their son to go to college but he had decided to drop out because school wasn’t for him and the parents didn’t know what to do. Repeating that I don’t know him or the situation, I recommended they let him explore a little. Perhaps he needs to travel,

“Has he ever been outside Arequipa City? “

“No,” the father says, “She doesn’t let the boys out of her grasp”

the wife shrugs

scared to death to make this recommendation I said, “If he never trips and falls, how will he ever know to watch his step?”

Then I went into something about how university isn’t for everyone.

“I bet he is creative, isn’t he? Does do art or make music?”

Both parents eyes grew wide as they explained that the husband is a musician and the son aspires to do the same, but the parents didn’t want their son to have to struggle financially like the father did.

Wincing at the effect my words might have, I explained the need, between the ages of 18 and 27 to self explore. How time alone, making your own decisions, builds self-esteem and self-knowledge. I recommended they give him that opportunity, and perhaps find a local psychologist they can talk to together.

The debate for this period of development continues in the world of psychology, unrightfully in my opinion. I believe I have written about this before, but there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the period of development in the early twenties is necessary to grow into healthy mental adulthood. Some psychologist argue that this stage cannot be official because it isn’t cross-cultural. Lower income human beings all over the world do not have the opportunity to travel and self-discover, they jump right into pregnancies and the responsibilities of maintaining families: adulthood. Other psychologists and myself argue that yes their bodies grow-up, but the mind never stabilizes and matures. It is necessary for the mind to have time to explore in order to better know the self. You can see individuals that never have that opportunity try to create it for themselves as adults, even in western culture. This is why programs like Teach for America, AmeriCorps and the Peace Corps are so important and necessary.

I am infinitely thankful for my opportunity to be here. Although it might have filled me with more questions to live out, it has also filled me with more possibility and self-efficacy. I can only hope that everyone is given and takes advantage of the same opportunities when presented to them.

14 Agosto 2011

Somehow, everything on my to-be-purchased-for-the-VALE-program list got checked off yesterday morning in Arequipa City. So, I hunted Roxana. Her half sister she was staying with, Jobana, had taken her daughters and Roxana to a Carnival that had been set up for the Arequipa City city-wide anniversary celebration. In the taxi over, my mind flipped to my Latin American Studies class on Circuses and Carnivals. I half giggled at how different I knew this would be, and it was. The oldest, rickety, and rusty machines, set up in a hurry, were surrounded by latina’s too young to be in the low cut shirt and high heels they displayed for attention from the boys in their band name plastered t-shirts and dark jeans. When I saw that the haunted house was held up underneath by an awkwardly placed two-by-four I decided I wasn’t interested in riding anything; this decision is incredibly uncharacteristic of aunt luz, and confused the kids a little. Instead, I proceeded to watch them scream and laugh as they were thrown and spun and I stuffed myself with everything sugary I could find. Picarones, cotton candy, churros, more cotton candy, chocolate covered strawberries, and even more cotton candy. I was able to keep myself and the kids munching on sugar for hours for less than $3.

I remember going places like this with adults when I was younger, and begging the adults to join us on the rides, only to be disappointed. I had a vague memory of someone once telling me they enjoyed watching me ride, as much as I enjoyed riding. As a child, this was impossible to believe. But, this day, I think I was laughing with Jobana as hard as the kids were screaming. As Roxanna de-boarded I fixed her tousled hair and listened to her chatter about this flip and that spin. My face hurt from smiling so much.

That night, we decided it was best for Roxana to stay with me at Hirma’s house because our bus back to Madrigal was leaving at 5am. We decided to ‘aprovechar’ or ‘take advantage of’ being in the city and eat yet more junk food and catch a late night showing of Harry Potter. Popcorn and chocolate covered raisins along with the movie tickets broke my bank a little, but it felt fabulous to treat this little lady. Roxana even familiarized herself with the ice cream sundae for the first time after the film. We strolled into the house around midnight, true ladies of the night, and I asked Roxana if she wanted to take a hot shower before returning to the canyon. Her eyes grew wide. The only hot shower I think she has ever had is in a bathing suit at the hot springs. I taught her how the electric heater works and left her to enjoy. About an hour later wrapped in my towel and smelling of lavender Brommers, she squeezed out the bathroom door and flopped into bed while I, of course, continued working. I am still trying to hunt down some reference books for the library (encyclopedias, dictionaries, etc) online. She fell asleep with the light on for me in our bedroom,, tucked under the blanket that Tiffyn gave to her months ago.