Sunday, June 12, 2011

Semana Santa and more

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This blog includes two months of activities so my memories may be a little jumbled but again, these are some of the more standout events.

First we will go all the way back to the end of April and the holiday trip that was Semana Santa. In the States I would be working or studying during the days leading up to Easter, but in Peru, Peace Corps volunteers get four free days of vacation for “week of the saints.” I was lucky enough to spend my time in Mancora, a small but very popular tourist town located on the beach in northern Piura. The town has three or four main roads dotted with artisan shops, cevicherías, inexpensive hotel resorts, and a variety of other exotic restaurants with food we rarely get to try in Peru. There was always something to do in Mancora, but somehow going out to eat was always one of the favorite activities. The type of restaurants we ate at had food that volunteers rarely see in Peru. My taste buds were more than satisfied after our trips to local cevicherias (fresh fish), one Thai restaurant, Mexican food, and some good old fashion cheeseburgers by the pool at the hotel.
The food was amazing but it was only one of the things that made the trip great. The day we arrived from Piura city another 15 or so volunteers trickled in to our English speaking resort and the vacation was on. In addition to the pack of volunteers that roamed around Loki resort I had two Peruvian friends, Pako and Juan Alberto from Piura, who came up to spend the vacation weekend with me. I was under the impression that these friends, who don’t speak more than ten words of English, also had other Peruvians they were going to hang out with. After the first day it was pretty clear that I was going to have to split my time between volunteers I hadn’t seen in a month or more and my Peruvians. At times it was difficult to have them around because I felt obligated to speak a little Spanish, but all I wanted to do was hang out with my English speakers and express myself without having to think about it. I also felt bad because I didn’t want other volunteers to feel uncomfortable only speaking English at dinner that my Peruvians would tag along too. For me it became a seemingly effortless transition to switch between Spanish and English, but social aspects were different in that I had these two guys hanging around that nobody really knew but me. The benefit of having my Peruvian friends was the automatic welcoming I received into other groups of Peruvians. While all these thoughts popped up a few times a day I was on “my vacation” and ultimately I was going to do what I wanted to do.
In my travel experience I’ve found that hotels and hostels are just about the same anywhere you may be. All I need is a clean bed, maybe a shower, and somewhere to store my valuables I certainly haven’t stayed at any 5 or 4 star hotels in Peru, but Loki hotel and resort was close as I have gotten. Loki is a gated resort which includes access to the beach, hostel style rooms (4 bunk beds to a room), hammocks, outdoor computers with internet, a bar/restaurant (w/ karaoke and other music), a beautiful centralized pool, and a lounge area with a pool table and ping pong table. The list of luxuries Loki had went above and beyond what I need in a hostel and I have to thank Ana Maria as well as other Peru 16 volunteers for setting us up at Loki for the trip. As soon as I checked in at the front desk I felt a small hint of culture shock. The staff was a mix of Peruvians and random other nationalities and very few of them actually spoke Spanish or if they did my Spanish was better. Everyone was speaking English and everywhere I looked there were tourists that would stick out and be in the minority almost anywhere but Mancora. I was placed in a room with my two Peruvian friends, and five Israelis. Once my bag hit the closet the fun began.
Pako, Juan Alberto and I took a trip down the main Mancora strip to a local cevicheria about a mile away. I should mention the main road in Mancora is part of the Pan American highway so there is always a steady flow of people in and out of the town every day. We ordered three mixed plates of fresh fish that would have turned any occasional sea food eater into an enthusiast. This was by far the best ceviche I had tasted in Peru and give credit to Pako for directing us to the hidden gem of a restaurant. This would have been enough to keep me happy the rest of the day, but then, in walked four knock out Crystal beer models dressed exactly the same as they are in their billboards and flyers. Of course we got a picture with the lovely ladies and I scored a free beer shirt through a little bit of sweet talking and a lot of begging. I filled the rest of the first day with a beach trip and nighttime karaoke at the hotel bar. I can’t go without mentioning my favorite aspects of the Mancora beaches, the beer runners and chicken sandwich lady. There are beer runners that bring your cold beer to your towel (S/.5= $1.75 for a 650ml bottle) for S/.5 and when you get a little hungry you can have the best chicken sandwich in Piura. Karaoke was a blast and a great opportunity to hang out mre with my volunteer friends. That night would also be the last time I slept for the rest of my 3 days of vacation.
It was a relaxing day to swim around in the pool and play some ping pong. Another beach trip was a must, but this time it was with my volunteer friends. Throughout the day I would check in with my Peruvian buddies if I hadn’t seen them in a couple hours or if they just need some attention in the form of their own language. I began hanging out more and more with the Israelis from my room that day and by the end of the trip we became good vacation buddies. There were opportunities to make friends with other tourists at the hotel including groups from England, Ireland, and other parts of Peru. For the tourist groups from outside of Peru it seemed like Mancora was towards the back end of a backpacking loop that started in Brazil or southern parts of South America. Almost all the groups had plans to go to Ecuador, Colombia, and then on to the United States. It was always a pleasure to hear about adventures that I someday want to be a part of, and I realize that after talking with many of these groups Peace Corps will be just the beginning of my adventures.
The second night was when things started to get a little blurry for me. I remember it all now, but in the days following the vacation, pieces of the puzzle slowly came back to my throbbing head. After a little pre-gaming at the hotel we took the fun down to the beach dance party. There were about 5 little dance clubs/bars on the last street bordering the boardwalk and the beach and every one of them were blasting different cumbia or reggeaton music. When one place got too crowded, as they often did, or if you didn’t like the music you could just slide on down to the next one. The dancing crowd was a full mix of volunteers, tourists, and Peruvians, but that night I focused my attention on a particular group of Limeñas. That night I branched out with Pako and Juan Alberto and we had met a few girls from Lima. I don’t know what they were drinking, but it whatever it was made it appear to them as if I was a great dancer. I have never received so many compliments about my dancing in my life and there is a good reason for this. I like many white boys from Montana lack the smooth dancer gene. If the chicken dance, the YMCA, and three or four swing dancing moves become the next big thing I’m ready to break it down. For now, I am thrilled that I have learned to successfully dance to Peruvian music. The night was great but it wasn’t totally void of drama. Around three or four in the morning after I had put in a long 4 hours of hanging out and dancing with one girl I found myself enchanted by another that I had seen and talked to earlier that night. After a small quarrel within the group, my new favorite Peruvian and I snuck out the back door of the outdoor concert and made our way down the boardwalk to enjoy the sunrise on the beach. This concluded my first sleepless night in Mancora, if you don’t count the half hour in a hammock at 8:30AM.
The following day the resort held team Olympics. The health program volunteers formed one team and the water and sanitation group another. In addition to our two Peace Corps teams the hotel staff had an undefeated team and other travelers like my Israeli friends joined in. There were competitions such as volleyball matches, fat suit sumo wrestling, tug of war over the pool, and more. After the Olympics I decided to go down to the beach and go for a swim with the Israelis and a few other American guys I met that day. The night rolled around again and before I knew it I found myself back at dance party on the beach. The second night couldn’t have gone any better. I found Fiorella and her friends and accompanying me was my buddy Juan Alberto. We were hanging out in a group of six people by the end of the night, me the only non-Peruvian of the group. One dance party after another, a chill session on the boardwalk all finished off by another sunrise on the beach with a beautiful Peruvian woman made this night and this vacation one of my top three experiences in Peru to date. The others would have to be training in Ancash and swearing in as a Peace Corps volunteer.

Mancora certainly wasn’t free and I paid for it in more than just soles after the
trip. Since my immune system was completely down from not sleeping for over 50 hours and possibly from the consumption of a few drinks, I became very ill. At first I thought this is just a normal crash after a long fun weekend, but for a month I continued to move from illness to illness with only a few precious healthy days interspersed between my energy draining sicknesses. The list of symptoms/illnesses is as follows: Flu with high fever and lack of energy (5 days), cold (1 ½ weeks), rest (1-2 days), stomach bug with diarrhea (2 days), cold (4 days), migraine headaches (3 days), rest (1 day), stomach bug with diarrhea (2 days). The worst part of the whole situation was that I had no computer for this entire month of bad health. My computer cord broke the moment I took it out of my bag when settling back into my room after vacation. That night I found a scorpion and a snake in my room when cleaning up. Maybe that was the sign for a bad May. I laid there watching one of six TV episodes on my iPod over and over again for weeks. The only new entertainment I had for this month were the small number of podcasts I could download when I was in the city for a day. Other than just entertainment I had no access to many of the files saved on my computer that I needed for work and no way to do work at home. The only alternative I had to get computer work done was to use the dusty old computers at the school in my town whilst continually being prodded by students.

As I write this I am healthy and have been healthy for about a week and I am struggling to get back into working out, but I can at least get out of bed and get work done. I am still awaiting the start of the construction on my room, which has been in the works for months. The money is here and the all the tools and materials are ready with the exception of one tool, the maestro Elidio. People are very busy and hard workers in the valley in which I live. Because of this I have patience waiting for my maestro to finish his other work, but it has been beyond frustrating at times when I come back from a trip and expect my window to be put in, my floors done, and the walls put up, and I find the process hasn’t even started yet. The new date for the room remodel is now the first week of June. I will sleep in the living room for a few days in a fort made from my bed, suitcases, desk and every other item in my room (more stuff than my host family has all together.

My home life has been interesting, at least to me, apart from just the delayed construction. My dog Ruby gets smarter and smarter everyday and she continues to be my best friend in site. Nothing can match up to the unconditional joy I feel when I come home from a long day of work in the school or health post and I see my puppy’s face running up to me, excited to play or just lay down next me and enjoy the sunset view of the valley. I have never trained a dog before so I am proud of every new trick my dog learns here. She now fully knows; sit, lie down, stand up or jump up (two legs), come, outside, and stay. Soon the training starts on fetch and roll over.

Other events around my house in the last months included my birthday and the breaking of the “slipper code.” One day my host day had a large wart removed from the bottom of his heel. I was there for the house visit procedure the nurse performed and I even supplied gauss and bandages from my med kit. This, I had no problem with. What did bother me was the favor my dad asked of me later that day when he wanted to borrow my down slipper to wear around the house. I am not an overly neat and clean person, but the slipper is one type of shoe you never share. The only time this is acceptable is if you’re in a car accident in the middle of winter, stranded in the forest, snow blanketing everything in sight, and for some reason you don’t have shoes in the car. You have to walk out to find help or you have to wait for help to come, and the car’s heater is no longer working. Then and only then would it be acceptable to wear someone else’s down slippers. Where I live the temperature averages between 60--90 daily. I didn’t know where I was going when I came to Peru and because of this I brought slippers just in case. The point is, my host dad’s feet are dirty all the time and this isn’t even including the bandaged wart wound. I’m not judging, dirty feet are part of working in the fields all day and living in the campo. When my host dad asked to borrow my slippers he already had the slipper half way on his foot by the time I could say anything, and what could I say? I couldn’t explain to him why I didn’t want his foot in my extremely warm, and in hot weather, sweat producing down slippers. All I could do was sit and watch as my slipper code was broken. My dad returned both slippers to me five days later, insides and bottoms worn out and in my mind my slippers were ruined forever, or at least until I forget about it 6 months from now. This slipper borrowing was also tough for me because it wasn’t the first time in my house I’ve had other things returned to me broken.

Mother’s Day came and went, almost as quickly as my birthday. I have missed my family and friends over the last 9 months, but these two holidays were especially tough for me. Granted, I wasn’t crying or feeling depressed, but the two days felt lonelier than other days. My birthday was a lack luster day as far as flash and excitement. I visited my site buddy, Jillian, in Chipillico and enjoyed a fresh papaya/apple/grape juice in the plaza before heading over to the internet café for a couple hours of facebook and email catch-up. I took advantage of the time I had and stopped off in a chacra outside of Chipillico where took a nap and had a great half hour conversation with an old man about everything under the sun. A friend then gave me a free ride back to my house and that night I shared a box of wine with my host dad and little sister over a meal prepared especially for my birthday with a fresh chicken and vegetable salad. I missed my friends, but as I think about it now last year’s birthday wasn’t anything special and you can’t always celebrate your birthday in Hawaii or have a crazy 21st birthday party with all your friends. Maybe next year I’ll go all out and head to Colombia or somewhere, we’ll see. For Mother’s Day I was in the city hoping to receive a package from my mother in the US. I have realized maybe half the work my mom does to help me out in my life, but that day was an especially strong reminder of how much I still rely on my mother for support from home. Support in the way of packages with food and supplies and also emotional support. I try to call people back home and keep good contact, but often times I’m not great at this. That said, I always make sure I call my mom when I’m in the city with internet access. I couldn’t talk with my mom or grandmas that day and I found myself in a situation where all I wanted to do was give them all overdue big hugs.

A few days after my birthday was the dreaded site visit from the director of the Peace Corps Peru health program. Emilia Villanueva, the director and my boss, came to my site with the regional coordinator and two other administrative workers from the office in Lima. They all met my family and we had two meetings with community leaders and work partners to discuss our plans for the next year I will be in site. The meetings went well and the visit was a success. More than anything else, I was proud of the compliments I received about how much my Spanish has improved and how well I speak now. It’s hard to think back to training in Lima where I was terrified of sitting down to lunch with a group of my Spanish speaking superiors. Now, I thoroughly enjoyed their company and had something to contribute to almost every conversation.

More to come soon...