Then got on a bus and headed back towards Arequipa City.
It was uncomfortable.
I don't want to talk about it.
August 22, 2010
12 Agosto 2010
This day was empowering.
This was the day my new host father had invited me to come back to the house and spend the day with him. When I arrived he was just returning from the fields- 'chacras' and to my delight he seemed happy to see me.
He began by offering me chicha (a white, chalky, corn-made alcohol) and we began preparing my room. It seemed like his daughter had used this room half as a study space and half as a closet. So, there was probably a decade's worth of toys, school projects, nail polishes, etc littering the dirt floor. Because they are so poor throwing things away (pretty much ever) would just be wasteful. So I organized all the garbage into categories, and he sifted through what to move to another room, and what do discard of. I think about 2lbs made it to the trash pile, and about 50lbs made it into a new storage space. But, it looked neat and tidy when we were through with it.
We sprinkled dirt water on the floor and swept up the entire top layer. Tiffyn recommended I make a zen garden with my dirt floor. I love it, off to search for a rake.
Then my Don Juan de la Cruz Suni (my host dad) fed me alpaca heart soup. I got two hearts, and the dog got the rest of the guts in my soup when Don Juan wasn't looking. Then it was back to the fields. He explained to me their aqueduct system to water the fields and we walked each cow and bull one at a time to get a drink. Over our hour long hike to and from the fields we exchanged information on plants and animals in our home countries. He was full of questions like, "what is a squirrel?" or "deer?", "what trees to you have in the states?". It was a great test of my vocabulary. After stopping by the municipality to discuss the changes to my new bedroom that they need to fund in order for me to stay there, we headed back to the chacra to train a teenage bull.
I wish I could have taken photos. They tied two bulls' horns together (an elder experienced, and the bull in training) and tried to make them walk in straight lines pulling a plow. Let me explain: crazy young bull that does not want to be tied to anything, being whipped, bleeding from the nose because he is whacked with a log every time he disobeys, running around in attempts to escape, and they tied a huge knife to the back of him! Does that scream dangerous to any of you? And the clincher, the women and children sat around the small field watching (yes, as a form of entertainment). There were exactly two times the bull decided he had enough and took off full speed for his small audience. I nearly shit my pants. The women laughed, the babies cried, and a lot of "ay-carambas" were floating in the air.
But, sitting back and looking at the scene pleased me to no ends. I was sitting on the side of a BEAUTIFUL canyon watching the sun set between its peaks, and learning the ways of the local community. And above all, integrating. After four hours of chatting with the women and playing withe their kids they tied the babies to the backs and we hiked back to the houses with the more obedient bull. Yup, he showed dramatic improvement.
The small gift I brought for my house father from the states was perfect. A maple leaf shaped bottle with sweet syrup. It was a perfect opportunity to teach him about tree sap, the maple tree, and delight his sugary pallet.
He was so proud to teach me all day, and he seemed excited for my return in a week.
He kept telling me that these walls of his house are my walls now. He offered anything I needed, and any comfort he could provide.
HE is why I look forward to going back to Madrigal. I can't wait to meet his wife. They have so much to teach me, and I think I have potential to help them and their community
11 Agosto 2010
Happy Birthday Matthew!
Today I was reborn.
After the uneasy meetings/interactions of yesterday, I went to meet a potential future counterparts.
The municipality told me to come down for tea at 6am. Tired, but with bright eyes I pull myself into the frigid air to be greeted by the help staff, not the councilfolk. The sweet cook, Victoria explained to me that no one really does anything before sunrise at 8am due to the cold. Having expected this from the Peruvian culture, I was not upset, just nervous about how I was going to meet with the municipality if they didn't come to the meetings they themselves scheduled. Instead, I went to a local woman's house that served me soup the night previous. With sweet protective eyes she brewed me some tea and inquired about the progress of my altitude sickness. I took a breather walk to pull in some patient energy:
It is so beautiful here, just looking around never ceases to lift my heart.
Then, when I went back to the Municipality, breakfast was served, and I met with a few community members that were curious about who the new Peace Corps Rep was; or more like, who the new gringa in their town is.
Full of potatoes, rice, and broth, I swung by the health post and was delighted to talk with a young, educated nurse I briefly met the night before. She explained a bit about what she does and how the post operates, and invited me back to shadow her on rounds to at-risk houses in the neighborhood. We began at a government provided day care center. This was a fabulous opportunity for me to be seen in the community as well as be invited into the homes of community members to see their living situations, as well as learn the concerns of the nurse in town. I observed her inspect the restrooms, food preparation, and general sanitation of the day care center called Wawa wasi. She checked everything from the iodine content in the salt, to the cleanliness of the fingernails of the chef. Each house we went to following had children, and each was distinct. One commonality: no nutritious meals, and no one, i mean, no one washes their hands. It just isn't something they do. The nurse, Lilly, invited me to come back at 2pm and sit in on a health promoter meeting after lunch that day.
When I returned to the Municipality for lunch a congregation of councilfolk and their significant others had collected in traditional dress to celebrate tingache. This celebration takes place twice a year. They offer gifts to the official municipal paperwork, wrap them in a blanket, and walk from important house to important house in town. All the while they sing, and drink. This image to the left is of the women sipping chicha (thick, white, corn alcohol) clothed in their traditional dress. At each house they arrive to a meal is offered. Yup, full blown entire meal, 9 times. I was beyond pleased to be able to duck out after meal 2 for the heath promoter meeting.
Lilly is amazing. The one individual in the community I can identify with. She is bright and motivated. She wants to make change in this town, and she is full of ideas on how I can help. She could keep me busy at the health post for 2 years if i wanted it that way. During the meeting she explained the break down of Peruvian medical system to the health promoters in training; it is like a triangle with the Health Posts forming the base. They see the most civilians, but provide the most basic care, and promote healthful practice. There is one in just about every community in the country. Just above the is the Help Hospital. They have more medical capabilities, and are in medium sized towns. Above that would be the General Hospital which has all forms of medical assistance. Then above that at the tip of the triangle would be the Institutes that provide specialized care like heart or oncology.
MINSA is the Ministry of Health-they offer SIS to everyone that is a registered worker in the country. The state pays for treatment when you need it.
ESSALUD is a better form of insurance that those that work use. the government takes 10% of your paycheck and uses that to help pay for you to receive the best care possible. More kush.
10 agosto 2010
The one day ascent from Lima to my site assignment, Madrigal, left me with altitude sickness. Dizzy, nauseous, and convinced my skull was imploding I tried all the herbal remedies the townsfolk had to offer in order to keep myself functional.
No local coworkers/counterparts showed up at the urban hub to meet me or attend a scheduled PC meeting, so one of the PC staff took me by taxi into Colca Canyon's winding, unpaved road (yup, there is just one). The municipality that requested a PC volunteer was locked. The local health posts was locked, and no one was home at the family's house where I was to be hosted. As we turned away from the last door we could knock on feeling defeated and out of ideas a tired elderly man with his sheep and donkey shuttled by quickly. He seemed disappointed we recognized him to be my host father as he lead the livestock through the front door we had just turned away from. With slight agitation and every ounce of politeness he could muster he showed me into my 'room'. Four crumbling cement walls, a roof speckled with holes, and dirt floors greeted me at first with utter amazement but a hard smack on the nose swiftly followed. While I marveled at the simplicity of their lifestyle the challenge of living there with them for the next two years of my life refused to be overlooked. But, with a smile in my eyes and ambition in my heart my stride did not waver in the presence of this generous, tired, hardworking Peruvian man. I offered with heartfelt sincerity to clean the decades worth of child's toys and homework pages up that formed a small mountain in the room.
Through the door and up the wall is strung a single chord dangling a bulb awkwardly. With no window, this bulb is my only light source.
I was supposed to sleep there for the night, but the room was obviously not livable yet. The next two years of life there did not carry as much weight in my mind as the thought of the setting sun pulling warmth away with it. That leaves me; having nowhere to sleep and rest my head for this, my first evening at site.
My new house mother had been injured in a bus accident weeks ago and still remains in the hospital recovering. Her continued presence out of the house could explain the complete lack of cleanliness in the compound. My sweet house father apologized and explained that he would be ready to receive me in 2 days. Between his garbed Quechua and my rough spanish the conversation birthed awkwardly painful moments. I can only hope my eyes were not obviously wide when he showed me the doorless bathroon, or the communal wall-less shower that consisted of a hose like spicket and a bucket.
The kitchen is made of a pile of bricks around burning logs, and some bricks piled to make stools. Guinea pigs and rabbits scurry under food shelves while a teenage hen hitches a ride on my house tour via my father's head.
After agreeing to return when he is more ready, we leave to hunt down a councilwoman. We found her, and after 20 minutes of meeting I knew she was praying with all her might that I wouldn't notice the drunkeness of the other municipality member who entered her office. A room in the municipality was offered to me for the evening to sleep. Resembling a hotel room with an unfinished shower and no hot water, I was greatful.
Naturally, in the bed that evening I found myself questioning everything. I felt like I had just been slapped around.
Bucket loads of questions were flowing through my mind. Can I? How and I do it best? What is it I should do? Who are the people of this town? Do they really want me here? Will they teach me? Will they take care of me? How have I put myself in such a position of helplessness?
Battered and worn I tried to escape into electronically pumped music in my ears, but fear of the noises outside kept one headphone resting on the pillow and one ear alert.
I did not sleep well.
August 7, 2010
7 Agosto 2010
Tomorrow I leave for sight visit.
I have about a day's worth of bus travel ahead and will get into Madrigal Monday. This is an opportunity to make introductions, make sure my living situation is safe, do some surveying and report back to Lima on the 15th.
My emotions are all over the board. One minute in the heavens excited, the next haunted house frightened.
tomorrows travel plans are carnivalesque:
chacrasana-lima: taxi (2 hours)
lima-arequipa: night bus (14 hours)
arequipa-chivay: bus (3 hours)
chivay-madrigal: comvi (1 hour-i have heard they hand out barf bags when you get on, it's straight up)
August 6, 2010
6 Agosto 2010
I played with another dog today in attempt to heal my own wound for her loss and found myself in some heathy tears.
Tomorrow, I pack. I will go to Arequipa and visit my sight for a week. I am glowing with excitement and nervousness. On the 15th I will return from my future home and report to PC in Lima. Provided all is well, on the 22nd I move there. Madrigal, Peru, "Here I come!"
Here are some photos of our last youth group meeting. The girls elected a president, and she will be planning the meetings for the youth group to continue after Peace Corps (me and friends) leaves in two weeks. SO EXCITING to see the goals we have set in place with these girls in such a short time and the potential for it to perpetuate. Our closing activity was putting a paper on everyone's backs and then everyone writing something nice on the back of someone else. The kids LOVE it. They hung their kind statements in the tree for everyone to see. It was beautiful.
5 Agosto 2010
My language class went to the Anthropology Museum today in Lima. While the budget for the museum was obviously low, the information and our guide were fascinating.
p.s. gaged ears and peirced noses were a sign of community importance
One of the most interesting facts that our guide stressed was that when a culture "disappeared" it wasn't that everyone just vanished, it was that that government ceased to further rule. The people under that governemnt continued to live on and perpetuate their social culture until the next government took over. Who knows the truth, but interesting thought.
Also, arquiologists discovered some funny looking skulls. It was determined that children born into prestigious familys had "molds" put on their heads. These "molds" molded their skill growth to make them deformed in a way that their forehead sat higher. crazy. Some skulls also had very large holes. The funny part, was that there was some growth after the trauma, meaning whoever it was lived for some time after the hole was made. They hypothesized that these holes were either accidental, operational, or created to release deamons.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)