22 Enero 2011 take two

Thank you Jim Nutter

my handy cousin recommended I catch rain water myself instead of using the faucet that spits out dirt ridden brown colored water. BRILLIANT!

time to get creative...

22 Enero 2011

Yesterday was a mad dash to every pueblo that the dentist campaign will be visiting. We were hanging up posters and talking to as many people as we could to "Pasa la voz" or spread the word.

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.

20 Enero 2011

Viewing the canyon from below the stalks of beans gives the entire gorge a distinct façade. Now that the rain has treated the crops well the cliffs are just resplendently green, and to view this green from between the leaves of the beans I pick gives me a sense of amalgamation with the earth beneath me. It makes me feel so small with my limited view, and yet a part of it.

Ok, enough of the dramatic, pretty verbiage…

I went to pick avas (kind of like big lima beans, a staple of the diet here) with my host sister this morning. It was the field of a neighbor and she brought her kids. Somehow I managed to convince the little ones that finding the fattest ava pods was a really fun game and they made my day a lot easier. It isn’t like the little beans perk up when to come to pick them and say, “Here I am!”. No, everything is green, the stalk, the leaves, the pods. And the beans manage to parallel themselves to the stalk just below it’s leaves making it anything but easy to find them. But, it felt good, none-the-less, to crouch down with the greenery and play hide and go seek with the kids and nasty chalky beans I avoid eating at all costs.

19 Enero 2011

I decided not to go to the fields today because I wanted to organize the curriculum a bit and see what I can do without internet access. Turns out a bunch. When I do have the internet at my finger tips I tend to throw information together so I can get as much as possible down in the limited time that I have. So, when I come back on a day like today and have a look at it it is a hodge-podge of all the information I need but in no cohesive order. Today, I organize. I want this thing to be done!

Then, I realize I have come to Day 21 of the program. That is 5 months in to what was intended to be a 6 month program. I was thinking that I was just about finishing up, but I have only hit 14 of the 30 intended topics. Dropping topics isn’t an option, they are all topics requested by the community or lack in their publicly provided textbooks. Cutting days shorter to fit two topics in one day could be an option, but I feel like that would make everything feel rushed and I worry the kids wouldn’t retain anything.

So, what is the next option? Extend it to a 10 month program? Yeah, that could be. That will keep me or any other volunteers that use this syllabus very busy, but that might be a good thing. That means I would need to start the program immediately so that it can be repeated with another instructor before I bounce. That also wouldn’t give me any vacation days except for weekends which worries me because it takes a good day to get anywhere from here. Another option is to extend the sessions to two hours instead of one, but that depends on the kids attention spans and interest. Another option is to combine more ages together. Right now I have them broken by grade with two grades coming per evening which will give me about 20 kids a day (I am guessing on attendance rates). If I combine 3 grades per day that would give me Fridays off. This could be an option as well so I have a day to prepare for the coming week.

I think the solution is to just get it started and see what happens, how things fall together, what can be removed and what needs to be altered.

Honestly, my biggest concerns are the big art projects that require drying overnight before the kids can continue. That could delay everything.

Standing back and looking at the program as a whole with each day’s syllabus designed I don’t feel exasperated or tired or like it hasn’t turned out like I expected. I feel proud of it, and can’t wait to get started! I know a lot will change, and a lot depends on the kids, but I have built a great base to get myself (and maybe other volunteers) started. Every time I work on the program I feel refreshed and energized. I love this project and have thrown my whole self into it.

This evening I gave myself a spongebath (rare, I know) and headed to the municipality to schedule a meeting with the new mayor. All cleaned up and dressed in descent clothes for the first time in a few days I headed to the secretary’s desk. As all of the “administration” has turned over with the elections these are all new people to me, and not the people who invited me to live in Madrigal as a Peace Corps rep. So, there was potential there for things to go very, very badly. I was nervous to say the least. But, in common Madrigalenian fashion the secretary welcomed me with open arms with a smile on her face and we scheduled my presentation/meeting with the mayor and all his new councilfolk in three weeks.

On the way back there were actually nurses stationed in the health post and I was able to introduce myself (to this third set of nurses since I have been here, it is a huge pain in my side that it changes every 2-3months) and get them on board for the dentists that are coming in two weeks.

What a surprisingly successful day. Content, I will sleep early and well tonight.

18 Enero 2011 take two

For christmas i bought myself a $5 thermometer

I just looked over at it.

It is 19 degrees Celcius in my room.

That is just above freezing. It isn’t even winter!

Time to boil something just so I can warm up my room a little bit.

Did I mention my honey has congealed it is so cold?

18 Enero 2011

I would be lieing if I said the Peace Corps wasn’t an opportunity for me to run away from my past and find my future. In fact, I did lie. I specifically remember one of the questions in the interview process:

“Is there anything here that you are trying to get away from? Romantic relationships, family?”

“Nope.”

I did lie in a way.

I wanted to leave behind all memories of dance and every relationship I had during my short-lived dance career. It is true that the only deep meditation I can reach is while I am dancing, and now my body can’t allow me to do it anymore, so my coping method is forget it. As I continue to heal as time passes, there is still a pang in my stomach, lungs, and heart every time I think about movement to music.

While I have found another part of me that involves the mind and teaching, it will never be the same as art.

For Christmas my mother and grandmother sent me a care package with a bunch of little goodies that can be combined with the things I have access to here to make healthy food. For example, bouillon for gravy or soup because I have no refrigerator to keep meat in, and cans of tuna for tuna salad because I have eggs and celery. I am chopping the hard boiled eggs now for my tuna salad and suddenly I see my mother’s hands. Cutting a hard boiled egg is tricky because it is so slippery. When you get down to the bottom of the oval your systematic plaid pattern won’t work anymore because the egg will fall out of your hands. My solution was to just chop it in random little chuncks, and suddenly I could see my mother’s hands in the kitchen on Willowbend Rd. coming to the same conclusion. Perhaps, somewhere subconsciously, I just remember how she taught me, but, part of me believes that she is within me, even here, even now.

I have come to realize that there is no “leaving your past behind”. It is impossible. Just as I will forever carry my mother’s and grandmother’s hands within my own, there will always be a ballerina inside me. While my instrument can never be what it could have been, the artist continues to grow. Even outside the dance studio, even without a plie, even without a performance, ever. The artist can never be buried. Even if dancing is not my future, it is forever with my future no matter where I am or what I am doing.

My solution? I have been hunting for a piano. There definitely isn’t a piano within an 8 hour radius of my home, but perhaps in the city of Arequipa someone will be able to lend me a room once a month to soothe my soul a bit. Wish me luck.

16 Enero 2012

Cesar, his brother, and I went out to Yura today to do a quick hike.

Cesar said we would be hiking for a couple hours to some beautiful waterfalls and when we entered the middle of the desert I was a little confused. He told me to wear boots because I would get soaked at least up to my knees. Just look at where we were!

Then, quite literally in the middle of nowhere, a little valley oasis appears with a couple small farming family's houses. And, of course, their dogs barked protectively, scared the crap out of our Dalmatian, and he took of running back towards the entrance to the trail. Mauricio and I took off running after the little shit and arrived half way back before we found him in the dunes.

But, that didn't ruin our day! We set back on the trail with the Dalmatian puppy on a leash, and were soon back at the oasis.

The only way to cross to the waterfalls is to pass through the marshes. It was beautiful.