Former President Toledo
The present First Lady of Peru
April 27, 2011
so much to report and no time to do it!
I have to run back to my site, but more to come on my birthday and Semana Santa-'Holy Week" in Ayacucho. For now, here are the photos of the anniversary party in Lima a month ago:
Former President Toledo
The present First Lady of Peru
Former President Toledo
The present First Lady of Peru
April 20, 2011
16, 17, 18 de Abril 2011
The Small Business Development volunteers here in the canyon are developing a bicycle tour to promote tourism in the canyon. To finalize some decisions they needed someone to actually bike the proposed route. So, Tim and I decided to spend a few days making our butts and legs sore cycling through the canyon.
We took a bus to meet up in Chivay, then biked to Madrigal. 5 hours
We slept over night at my site, then entered the canyon going straight down (kind of felt like an extreme sport). Once we crossed the river the incline was so intense we had to walk a good portion of it. We ended at another volunteer's site called Cabanaconde. 7hours
In the morning tim bussed back to his site, but there are no buses that go from Cabanaconde to Madrigal. So, i biked back. 4 hours
Absolutely beautiful trip, and it felt SO good because it was so challenging!
The trip gave me a lot of time to think.
Honestly, I found myself thinking a lot about Cesar. While we have cultural differences that are strong and those differences give us moments of pain that is hard for both of us, we have an understanding for one another that is unexplainable, and maybe un-understandable to anyone but us.
When someone hurts me, I cut them off. I don't let them hurt me again.
He gets defensive when he gets hurt. He is accustomed to people (father, mother, brothers, aunts, uncles) cutting him off because of their own selfishness.
We both made mistakes in our relationship and even after a month of doing very well on our own we still longed for each other's presence. We weren't communicating because we realized our lifestyles just clashed too hard for us to be happy together. He is extremely social an charismatic. He has a handful of friends, some I get along with, some I don't. I am a bit more private. I really like just me time with the earth and animals when I am not working. I like small intimate conversations with close friends and he likes large parties with multiple acquaintances.
I sent him a message when we got off the bikes in Cabanaconde. It was the first time we had communicated in weeks, and I said simply something like, "You are in my thoughts. All I can do is hope that the social lifestyle you have chosen makes you happy. I wish our lifestyles were more similar and you were here with me, I want to conquer the world, just you and me. If there comes a day that you want that too, please come to me and I will be yours."
He called back quickly to tell me he loved me too and that he was sending me a birthday present on the 9pm bus to Madrigal the next day that I should go pick up. With silent polite and sad smiles we hung up.
At 9pm on the 18th Cesar de-boarded the bus in Madrigal. It was extremely romantic and some townsfolk started smiling and giggling and spreading the gossip immediately. He was with me for the first time in my territory. He saw my world for the first time and saw why I love it. He is currently pursuing a managerial position at a hostal in Cabanaconde so we will only be half a day's hike apart.
I love him, and the foolish love makes me happier than I have ever been in a relationship even through the cultural struggles.
I ask that all of my friends and family please be patient with us.
I have seen frustration on his side and on yours due to small misunderstandings that are almost always cultural.
Please, know that though I talk to you when things are rough, he is here by my side supporting me and loving me like no partner ever has. Please, support me in the decisions I make for me. The 24 hours of following him stepping off the bus were some of the happiest in my life as you can see in the April 19th entry to come...
15 Abril 2011
When we went out to milk the cows today one of the calves greeted us. He barreled his head into my thigh in search of the coca cola bottle I had in my hand. This calf was bought by a cousin of my host family and has been raised bottle fed. He saw me coming and wanted some of what he thought was milk, immediately. I attempted to show him my hands were empty by sticking the coke bottle in the back of my pants and he just started sucking in my fingers. I think it was my biological clock and hormones that fell in love with him as soon as his course tongue started to make the back of my fingers sore. He insisted I was his mother and kept barreling me in the arm, thigh and hip with the same motion the calves use on the mother’s utter when the milk isn’t coming out full force. Such a beautiful, sweet creature. And, big. That two month old weighs as much as I do!
14 Abril 2011
An emotional introduction: I do believe that people call me a passionate person. People scoff at my optimism and zealousness because it uses so much of my energy on a daily. Many outright say that I am crazy and naïve for doing the things that I do. Many appreciate what they have been given and don’t drop it to attempt to help people who have not had the same luck. They know coming here won’t change much, if anything, and they enjoy their gifts.
Before I came here, I felt that I couldn’t enjoy the gifts given to me if I knew there were so many without. I was riddled with guilt for enjoying a dance career.
But, now that I have come here, a numbness has come to attack my optimism. I see it in people who have devoted their lives to volunteering here. The mothers crying, the sick, the pain, it just doesn’t hit you like it did before. If it did, you couldn’t survive. You would lose your mind.
The story: My site is literally at the end of the road, but there is one walking path from Madrigal to a small village called Tapay. This village is deeper into the canyon from my town and it is about a day’s hike on a thin, unmarked path on the side of the steep canyon wall. Tapay has a microclimate because of its location and they grow fruit and vegetables year round. But, very few people live there because you can’t even ride a donkey in or out due to the vertiginous. There are less than 12 kids in the high school. When the teachers and doctors go in, they stay there a few days, then disappear back to the city until they feel like creturning. Medical and Educational access is limited here in Madrigal, but it is non-existent in Tapay. It is a dog and pony show, no more. It is a beautiful village that lives in an ancient time. I am sure that almost every tourist that has come through the canyon has a picture of the town taken from the other side of the canyon in their scrapbook.
Last week two tourists decided to hike from Madrigal to Tapay. Most people hike down from the other side of the canyon, but this pair was adventurous, and it isn’t an impossible hike by any means. I was actually supposed to hike part of it to go to the family’s alpaca ranch this past weekend as well. However, a series of rains came in and my host father cancelled the trip to the ranch because the trail would be too slippery and dangerous. The tourists didn’t get that memo. They got stuck on the path the night of the hail storm I wrote about last week. They called a tourism agency to tell them they were lost and then their phone died. A week later no one had heard from them, and the regional government sent a search and rescue team. Multiple trucks, vans, and helicopters came barreling into Madrigal. They have been here for a few days now.
My entire town is deeply concerned for these lost tourists, or at least they talk enough about them it seems that way. The gossip is all about whether they found them yet or which ancient read the coca leaves and what they told them about whether the couple is alive or not. For some reason, I don’t feel anything for the tourists. I shrug, and continue with my daily. There is nothing I can do to help them. I don’t feel anxious for them. Why? How heartless? Who is this woman that just doesn’t care? Then something hit me...
Where are the helicopters when a woman in Tapay needs to give birth? Where are the helicopters when a man has a heart attack and needs to get to a hospital immediately? Where are the government agencies bringing electricity and plumbing in their big white vans?
A government that is so obviously racist that the people expect it dominates here. Inequality is part of the game.
I could say that I am fighting for the people here to realize what is going on and teach them how Western civilization gained equal rights. But, do we even have them? Yes, when you call 911 an ambulance comes. But, if you are not part of the elite and cannot pay for the medical attention you need you are stabilized and kicked out. Is that equal? Is a tiered health care system equal? Is it just as ancient and barbaric as not sending a helicopter for the poor locals who need it?
It is hard to live this fight some days when the numbness overtakes…
Before I came here, I felt that I couldn’t enjoy the gifts given to me if I knew there were so many without. I was riddled with guilt for enjoying a dance career.
But, now that I have come here, a numbness has come to attack my optimism. I see it in people who have devoted their lives to volunteering here. The mothers crying, the sick, the pain, it just doesn’t hit you like it did before. If it did, you couldn’t survive. You would lose your mind.
The story: My site is literally at the end of the road, but there is one walking path from Madrigal to a small village called Tapay. This village is deeper into the canyon from my town and it is about a day’s hike on a thin, unmarked path on the side of the steep canyon wall. Tapay has a microclimate because of its location and they grow fruit and vegetables year round. But, very few people live there because you can’t even ride a donkey in or out due to the vertiginous. There are less than 12 kids in the high school. When the teachers and doctors go in, they stay there a few days, then disappear back to the city until they feel like creturning. Medical and Educational access is limited here in Madrigal, but it is non-existent in Tapay. It is a dog and pony show, no more. It is a beautiful village that lives in an ancient time. I am sure that almost every tourist that has come through the canyon has a picture of the town taken from the other side of the canyon in their scrapbook.
Last week two tourists decided to hike from Madrigal to Tapay. Most people hike down from the other side of the canyon, but this pair was adventurous, and it isn’t an impossible hike by any means. I was actually supposed to hike part of it to go to the family’s alpaca ranch this past weekend as well. However, a series of rains came in and my host father cancelled the trip to the ranch because the trail would be too slippery and dangerous. The tourists didn’t get that memo. They got stuck on the path the night of the hail storm I wrote about last week. They called a tourism agency to tell them they were lost and then their phone died. A week later no one had heard from them, and the regional government sent a search and rescue team. Multiple trucks, vans, and helicopters came barreling into Madrigal. They have been here for a few days now.
My entire town is deeply concerned for these lost tourists, or at least they talk enough about them it seems that way. The gossip is all about whether they found them yet or which ancient read the coca leaves and what they told them about whether the couple is alive or not. For some reason, I don’t feel anything for the tourists. I shrug, and continue with my daily. There is nothing I can do to help them. I don’t feel anxious for them. Why? How heartless? Who is this woman that just doesn’t care? Then something hit me...
Where are the helicopters when a woman in Tapay needs to give birth? Where are the helicopters when a man has a heart attack and needs to get to a hospital immediately? Where are the government agencies bringing electricity and plumbing in their big white vans?
A government that is so obviously racist that the people expect it dominates here. Inequality is part of the game.
I could say that I am fighting for the people here to realize what is going on and teach them how Western civilization gained equal rights. But, do we even have them? Yes, when you call 911 an ambulance comes. But, if you are not part of the elite and cannot pay for the medical attention you need you are stabilized and kicked out. Is that equal? Is a tiered health care system equal? Is it just as ancient and barbaric as not sending a helicopter for the poor locals who need it?
It is hard to live this fight some days when the numbness overtakes…
13 Abril 2011
“Dear Jeremy, In the last few days I have been learning how to not trust people, and I am glad I failed. Sometimes, we depend on other people as a mirror to define us and tell us who we are. And each reflection makes me like myself a little more… Elizabeth.”
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.
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.
April 8, 2011
8 Abril 2011 take two
ok, a little less about me, a little more about peru.
Peruvian presidential elections are sunday, so i am going to stick around in chivay the rest of the weekend to watch the first round of election results come in. Here is what´s up:
In the lead in the poles (that change dramaticly daily, mind you) is Ollanta with 29.7% of the votes. Who I would call an extreme leftist that the less economically inclinded individuals tend to be leaning towards.
In second place with 21.8% is Keiko Fujimori, an extremely well educated young woman who´s father was president during the 90s and is known for ending the terrorism in Peru in that time. However, during his presidency he functioned as more of a dictator than a democratic president and is currently in jail for breaking international civil rights laws. ç
In third with 21.8% in the poles is Alejandro Toledo. An individual born in the pueblos of peru and grew to power by attending University at Stanford in the states. This would be his second term. Very smart man who gives his thanks to the Peace Corps for teaching him english.
18.7% of the poles go to Pedro Pablo Kiuksinksi (known as PPK). He is a white man who was born in peru. He was active in peruvian economics in Toledo´s previous presidency.
Then 11.4% goes to Castañeda the current mayor of Lima that headed a transportation project in Lima that is now a semi-successful train system downtown. Limeñans LOVE him for the success of this project.
First round elections are Sunday the 10th. That will narrow it down to two, and there will be another election in about a month (the date is not yet set).
Who do I want to win? No idea. As usual they all have their sucky points. Obviously it would me most beneficial for me if Toledo wins considering I have met him and he is extremely appreciative to the PEace Corps for all they did for him personally.
Pretty much all the educated individuals in Arequipa City are leaning towards PPK. He is a smart guy and not so radical. He would probably be very good for the PEruvian economy.
Then there is Ollanta, he is an extremist. And while he is ¨handsome¨, and very very Peruvian, he sacres me a little. When he was up in the poles a couple weeks ago the peruvian stock market plummetted. He would probably governmentalize every corporation he can, which is bad new for investers. While my poor neightbors pray every night for him to win, he might not be the best option at this point in the country´s development.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)