CUY FOR ME: November 2009

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

I know that I just updated the blog a couple of days ago, but this is a special edition for a special day. This will mark the first time I have spent Thanksgiving outside of the great U.S. of A. It’s a tough one, considering A#1: Thanksgiving is just about the most American holiday out there (save Fourth of July, but with all due respect to our Nation’s Birthday… it doesn’t have pumpkin pie); and B#2: This is without a doubt my favorite of the holidays. I love it mainly because it is all about the food. No flash, no flair, just food. Plus it has a sort of understated dignity; it doesn’t even complain when radio stations start playing Christmas carols the first of November… although I certainly do. So to pay homage to the best day on the calendar, I decided to stop harping on all of the things that I cannot get here in San Miguel (mail, hot water, cold beverages, etc.) and give thanks for all that we do have. Here goes; top things that I’m grateful for this year:

Disclaimer: This list excludes the obvious blessings: great town, awesome host family, fulfilling vocation, lack of weird/uncomfortable disease to date. These are the more overlooked, though equally important, blessings.

6. Flannel sheets. As I kid, my mom always tried to push flannel sheets on us, claiming they were, “so warm and comfy!” I hated them; no matter what, I’d end up in a pool of my own sweat. When the Bon offered to mail a set to me here, I accepted out of desperation (add “no heat” to the list of do-not-haves), although I was incredulous that I would actually use them. Oh how wrong I was! These sheets have totally redeemed themselves, and are now the best thing since sliced bread (oops, we don’t have that here either). Not only do they keep me nice and toasty all night, but I miraculously haven’t had bed bugs since their arrival. Just don’t ask me how many times I’ve washed them….

5. My thick foreign accent. This is going to sound really awful, but being from the United States opens A LOT of doors in Peru. I have dark hair, so I can sometimes blend in the crowd, but as soon as I open my mouth to speak, all heads turn. This allows me to basically get whatever I want, as people think I know things. My favorite example of this is when a group of us went to our first Grupo Cinco concert in Cajamarca. Grupo Cinco is probably the most famous band in Peru… pure Cumbia… pure fun. Anyhow, we paid for the cheapest tickets available, then sauntered up to the guards in the VIP section and said we were foreign journalists. Yes, yes, of course. Come right in foreign journalists. Boom… just like that. As I said, literally opens doors.

4. Cheerleaders. I’ve heard so many complaints from my Volunteer friends living in coastal towns about the constant cat-calls from guys. This is especially true when they go running. Although I do get the occasional harassment, my mountain-dwelling neighbors are pretty polite. I run 4 or 5 times per week, and I run into quite a few country folk along the way. At first they were extremely confused as to what I was running from. The idea of running for enjoyment and exercise doesn’t exactly resonate with people who walk four miles, uphill, barefoot and with 60 lbs. of rice on their backs to sell in town. After awhile, however, they started to get the idea, and now they actually cheer me on. I get anything from “Run, gringa, run, you can do it!” to “don’t stop skinny girl, you’re almost up that hill!” Talk about motivation; I can’t let me adoring fans down! I just might reach that marathon goal after all.

3. My electric kettle. If you’ve never had the joy of owning one, you may think it just a device that boils water. But it has become oh-so-much more than that to me. I purchased it on my first day in site, and never regretted the $12 decision. It boils water for my safe consumption, prepares the essential element for my bucket bath, steams the wrinkles out of my clothes and even cooks the perfect hard-boiled egg for snack-time (teaser: this involves panty hose and an old toothbrush). I know I sound like Vince Shlomi, trying to push the Sham Wow on you… but seriously. This thing is amazing.

2. The guinea pig colony in my kitchen. My feelings toward the guinea pigs living on my kitchen floor have gone full circle: from humor, to annoyance, to absolute amusement. I have come to adore my furry companions, as they offer non-stop entertainment during my meals… sort of like dinner theatre. You never know what those little rascals will be up to. I don’t think I’ll ever truly enjoy lunch again unless I’m watching two baby guinea pigs fighting over a banana peel.

1. Support Network. This is technically a tie. I am so fortunate to be surrounded by the greatest group of people serving as Volunteers here in Peru. Thanks to them, and to the free inter-network calls that we all have, I manage to stay sane. I also rely on the emails, cards, letters and packages that I receive from friends and family back home. They all mean more to me than you will ever know. So for those of you keeping me afloat here in Peru and State-side, I am forever grateful. Happy Thanksgiving / Feliz Dia de Gracias to you all!!

Well hello there! Sorry about the long absence; I never would’ve thought it possible, but I’ve actually been too busy working to write (well that, and the Internet guy in town didn’t pay the bill last month, so we were cut off for awhile). This past week marked the big Artisan Fair at the U.S. Embassy, and preparations were quite the ordeal. I took two members of my artisan group, and deciding on the lucky lady was not easy. I tried to present it to them as a great opportunity for traveling to the big city, meeting new people and seeing the inside of the great United States Embassy. They see it as being forced to exit their homes during the rainy season, travel on a crowded bus for 20 hours and stay in one of the dirtiest cities this side of the equator. So we did what any highly structured organization would do: we drew straws. That was just the first of many struggles, along with deciding on how to get there, where to stay, what to bring, how to price the products, etc. etc. etc. The very night before the trip I found myself in their workshop, knee-deep in scarves, tying on price tags until my fingers were numb. I know that I have always had a problem with procrastination, but these ladies make me look like a Type-A control freak. I was 97% sure that they wouldn’t show up at all and I’d be stuck there looking the fool. They certainly surprised me, however, and the preparations more than paid off. They sold more than anybody else, doubling the sales of the next closest group. Boo-yeah! Okay, I’ll stop bragging on them now, but I’m just proud as pie.

Other than the Artisan Fair, my life has been a hodge-podge of random activities these last few weeks. Because it has been so long since my last entry (and because I have a poor short-term memory), I’ll just try to feature some of the most notable occurrences.

PARTIES: As it turns out, San Miguel is not in complete and total hibernation… yet. As the rainy season descends upon us, my town seems determined to squeeze in all the partying they can before bad weather forces us all into a routine of eat, nap, eat, nap… ad nauseum. The parties are obviously, and quite necessarily, much smaller than the 17 day blow-out that I experienced back in September. They are usually just one or two days of gettin’ down, and I never know when to expect them. All of a sudden a marching band will appear, slinging its brassy tunes into the San Miguel air. The worst is when they show up at Mass. They somehow manage to sneak into the back after we are all seated, then scare the hell out of everyone (no pun intended) as they strike up at full volume. Okay, I guess they just scare me. The rest of the town seems to know instinctively when these events are set to occur, though they all fail to mention it to the gringa. All I can do is go with the flow, as I’m carried out onto the plaza by the rest of the congregation. Sometimes we march a few laps around the square, sometimes we get fireworks displays, but always always always we dance. Afterward I’ll try to find out what the fiesta was about, although it usually has to do with some saint or another, of whom I’ve never heard. The weirdest and, naturally, my favorite of all these parties was the recent all-day affair that took place at the cemetery. Yep, you read that right… party at the cemetery and EVERYBODY’S invited! So apparently instead of celebrating Halloween here, Peru celebrates All Saints Day on November 1st and Day of the Dead on November 2nd. On Day of the Dead, the cemetery in town turns into a circus of sorts. It is packed with those who have come in to pay their respects to their deceased loved-ones. The tradition involves placing fresh flowers and a lit candle on the tomb, then hanging around the grave site for the day… and night. I didn’t believe it until I saw it, but people actually camp out all night in the cemetery. As if that wasn’t creepy enough, everywhere you look vendors are selling food, flowers, candles and snacks… including ice cream and jello! The townsfolk also set up little make-shift grills to cook out. The whole scene sort of reminded me of a baseball game. Except for the fact that you’re trampling over dead people. It wouldn’t be my first choice for a party locale, but again, sometimes you’ve just got to go with the flow.

I’M A LEADER: Two weeks ago I helped out the other Volunteers in my department with an annual leadership camp for teenage boys. The idea is that Volunteers pick two of the more outstanding boys in their towns, then everybody comes together for three days of leadership workshops, talks, games, etc. It was such a great experience, getting to see the best and brightest of Cajamarca; made me feel much better about the future of my beloved region. The best part: we were each responsible for planning and running an activity each day, and I was given “exercise hour” one morning. They asked that I teach the Michael Jackson Thriller dance to the kids, as we had learned and performed the dance during training. I figured the boys would hate this activity, so I tried to worm my way out of it… but I was overruled. So I begrudgingly got up at 6 am to teach a room full of teenage boys a choreographed dance. Let me just say, I had a definite “Dorothy, you’re not in the U.S.A. anymore” moment. Not only did the boys NOT find it lame, but they actually got into it. They had quite the impressive zombie faces. Pictures to come at a later date.

RIDIN’ IN STYLE: I have a bike! Okay, I actually got my bike months ago, but I’ve just started using it recently. Technically I have it so that I can ride to a neighboring caserillo (small community that’s technically part of San Miguel, but not in the town limits), where there’s another group of artisans that I’m helping. Off the record, I take her out for a spin every chance I get. The only issue I have is that I live on top of an Ande. This means I have to ride downhill and then back up. Each leg of the journey has its own challenges; going down requires constant use of the hand brake to keep from flying head-first into gravel. Going back up has its obvious issues. More often than not, I hitch a ride back to town on a milk truck. All in all, I’d call my bike riding experiences a success.

KING OF THE CASTLE: I got a chair. Uncle Tio loaned it to me awhile back b/c I had to stand on it to reach the hole in my roof (I had to replace the beer poster that was covering the hole). I now know exactly how Borat felt when he walked into the New York hotel. I felt like quite the fancy pants, sitting in my chair at my desk (I use the term “desk” loosely here). I thought Tio was going to let me borrow it indefinitely, but alas he asked for it back last night. Back to square one.

TOURIST IN MY OWN TOWN: In an effort to better acquaint ourselves with this great state of Cajamarca, my friends and I have been trying to venture out and see the major tourist spots that she has to offer. One such outing was a winner… another, not so much. The former was a trip to Cumbe Mayo, a trek through giant rock formations just outside of town. Beautiful. The latter was a trip to the Banos del Inca, which is pretty much right in the city. The Banos are advertised as relaxing, natural hot springs, frequented by the Incas for their medicinal powers. Don’t buy into the hype. While they are technically hot springs, they’ve been captured into pipes and are now pumped into a series of small rooms with bathtubs. To experience the magic, you pay a couple of soles and pile into a dirty room, which has been experienced by dozens of other patrons just before you. Good news: you can purchase a warm beer and a cold hot dog to enjoy along with your soak. Bad news: You have to wonder if they clean the rooms between each group of visitors. What do you think? I’ll let you ponder that one for awhile. Until then… adios my friends!

Nothing like an ice cream vendor in the cemetery