Saturday, June 19, 2010

Land of the Free and Home of the Seven-Layer Burrito

I must apologize to those 2 or 3 of you who regularly keep up with my blog, as Cuy For Me has been out of commission for quite awhile. Sorry folks, but this has been quite a month for me. First of all, I went to visit THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. It was weird… but wonderful. I’ll get to that in a bit. Anyhow, upon my return, I celebrated two major milestones within one week. The former arrived on June 6th, and it marked one-year of living in Peru. The latter, a much more common occurrence, was June 9th, and it was my birthday. It is only notable because it was the second birthday I have spent here in Peru. The first came around (obviously) within my first few days of arrival to the country last year. It was surrounded by a haze of confusion and apprehension. Just days before, I had been thrown into a group of total strangers, shipped off to a foreign country, and poked and prodded with every injection known to man. This year could not have been more different. I am now comfortably settled into this country… I have friends, family, co-workers and students, all of whom could not WAIT to celebrate my birthday. Peruvians just love to celebrate birthdays – shocker! Upon meeting a new Peruvian, the question, “When is your birthday?” will undoubtedly occur within the first five minutes of conversation, just between “Are you married?” and “How much do you weigh?” They also seem to harbor some internal clock which automatically banks all of this information. You may try to tiptoe around the whole birthday thing, hoping that maybe people have forgotten, but no such luck.


My cake was so pretty that I didn't even mind the misspelling on my name!


The big day will arrive and out of nowhere the entire town descends upon you with birthday wishes, parties and (best of all) lots of food! Now this all sounds well and good, so why would anyone try to hide from it? The answer is a four-word phrase that has been daunting me for months: torta en la cara. This means ‘cake in the face,’ and describes the custom for birthday celebrations in my town. The lucky lad or lassie has to “taste” the cake before eating, and is inevitably shoved so that the cake is smeared all over his/her face. There have also been cited incidents where extra icing is requested from town-cake-lady and comes flying in from all directions, landing on your clothes, in your hair and in just about every other uncovered flesh. No hot water and 30 degree temperatures make night-time bathing impossible, so add “sleeping in icing” to the element of fun.


Despite the eight-month build-up, my torta en la cara celebration was actually not that bad. In fact, it was pretty fun. I turned the tables on my friends and spread the cake on them. It resulted in quite the evening, and it is definitely going to remain high on my list of memorable birthdays. So I must give a great big “thank you” to all of San Miguel, for without this loving little town, birthdays, and Peru in general, would not be nearly as enjoyable.





Now, reaching these milestones brought about the need for reflection; people in their “late 20’s” have a tendency to do this, or so I hear. Not only have I officially spent one year in Peru, but I am still processing my recent trip to the U.S. How do I even begin to describe my beloved country? It’s chock full of so many things: big people, big cars and even bigger food portions. But if I had to sum it all up in a word, it would be ‘freedom.’ It may be cliché, but this is without a doubt the one word I would use to describe the United States of America. Not that I am necessarily an expert on this subject anymore, but my recent visit home afforded me quite the fresh perspective. It was just a hair shy of one year without seeing my homeland when this little gringa arrived on U.S. soil. Overwhelmed with feelings of nostalgia and fatigue, I sobbed my way through the customs and baggage-claim process. It was so strange to hear English being spoken everywhere, to pay with American bills and to realize that not every single person was starting at my whiteness. Leaving the airport was when the real fun began. I was reminded just how easy everything is: hop into your own car, drive out on paved roads and go wherever you want. There is no waiting hours for 7-8 other paying passengers, no strangers sitting on top of you with their breast-feeding babies or sacks of cuy and (most amazingly!) no hopping out of the car to help push it through especially muddy parts of the road. While taking in the ease of transportation, I was also reminded of the vast food choices that exist out there in the real world… and just how easy it is to access them. My eyes bulged and my stomach growled as we passed convenient stores, drive-thru joints and ethnic restaurants galore. Taco Bell, Arby’s and Bojangles… oh my! And I’m not even going to START on the joys that are Publix and Costco. It was not until I lived without such luxuries that I truly came to appreciate them. I try to picture what life might be like in San Miguel if everybody had a car. I cannot imagine such a sight, as they really wouldn’t have anywhere to go. It’s a 3+ hour trek to the city, and there are no shopping malls, restaurants or grocery stores between here and there. In a way, however, it is kind of nice. Any place you need to go, anything you need to buy, any person you want to see is within a 5-minute walk. Granted we don’t have Big Macs or 1,000-count boxes of Splenda, but we have a stronger sense of community than anywhere I have ever seen… not to mention some really great party traditions. So although it was hard to board that return flight in Hartsfield-Jackson and say goodbye to all the freedom and delights of America, including that one last bagel with flavored cream-cheese that I scarfed down all the way through the jetway, I know that Peru has her own special treats in store for me.



Just one more year to take it all in!