Lima, te quiero mucho

I am sitting in a McDonald´s in Lima. That´s right. For the first time in over a year and a half, I just devoured a Big Mac with 2 sides of pickles(which I had yet to find in Perú), fries and a lovely Coca-cola. I don´t know what kind of addictive substance they add to the Big Mac to make is so delicious, but I know some sort of trigger went off in my brain after tasting the first bite. ¨Aw yes, there it is!¨ We´re in Lima for our mid-service medical checks and dental exams. This is the first time in a long time that I´ve left the dentist with nothing more than a cleaning! Who knew all you had to do was floss regularly? (Answer: Every dentist I´ve ever been to who has looked at my teeth before.) I don´t know why it took so long for me to pick up that little habit. But I decided to celebrate my clean bill of health (so far so good) and my cleaner teeth with some junk food and a big soda.

I´ve got one more year of service, and it should go by relatively fast. I´m a bit nervous about Bulla leaving, but she´s got some big plans to do whale research in a lab in Olympia, Washington. Keep your fingers crossed that her interview goes well next week. I think she´s got the intership in the bag. I hope she goes to Alaska next year, too.

I finished Project Ironman/Ironwoman with my kids last week. We went to the beach at Pimentel. 13 of my 44 kids completed all the components: diaries, reading ¨The Diary of Anne Frank¨, running a 5K, doing tons of push-ups and sit-ups, going to a list of youth development classes, a doing good works. They´ve learned about self-esteem, leadership, abstinence, fidelity, condom-use, healthy dating, caring for the environment, how to start a small business, the process of going to collegeor a technical school, and so much more. I´m so very proud of them. What a journey it has been, and I can´t wait to make the program more sustainable and successful next year! The program is being recognized by Peace Corps Perú, and will hopefully be replicated by more volunteers in the future. Carolyn and I worked so very hard at creat the program, and it would be amazing to see more and more volunteers take it on.

The ¨Ama Tu Perú¨ campaign is going well. I´m hoping to get the 2 billboards made, though I´m nervous about not getting a response yet from my email to the Passion Fruit company that is paying for the billboards. We had 2 students win the competition and they have been informed, so I´m gonna do my best to follow the project through.

I´m so grateful to have this kind of opportunity to do real grassroots work. It´s amazing how much flexibility and freedom I have to create my own projects/programs. The Peace Corps gives us all the tools we need, but it is probably one of the few jobs in the world where you can do good in your own way. I wake up every morning and get to decide how best to use it. What a blessing this experience has been.

Next year will definitely be different. Sarah Bulla won´t be here, and neither will Carolyn. Carol is headed to Lima to lead the environment program next year. I´m excited for her, and have realized how much I love Lima. For me, Lima means food, food, food. So much good food that I miss so much. I´m getting sushi tonight! Heck yes!

Courts for Kids: Anyone insterested in helping some kids get a court?

I submitted an application for this non-governmental organization called Courts for Kids that pays for ball courts constructed by school groups, service clubs, church groups, sports teams, sorority and frat groups, adult groups, etc who raise money and go to Perú to build them in rural communities.

My community, Corral de Arena, has applied. We just got word that our application is good, however, there is a waiting list of like 26 courts before mine. So the likelihood that we would have a group come before my Peace Corps service ends in November 2012 is not very high. Do any of you have an interest (or know anyone who might) to use a group of 12 people or more to raise funds to build a cement soccer court and come to Perú to make it while staying in my community?

If so, check out this website and get back to me. http://www.courtsforkids.org/ I would like to find a group of people while I am in the States for Christmas. I think the project itself is gonna cost around 35 thousand dollars and I don´t know yet about trasportation costs, but will be updating this blog post accordingly.

If not, don´t worry. I will have other projects (like books, clothes and educational toys) I will be asking for help to finance in the future as well.

Unstoppable Wave (One more year of Peace Corps to go.)

This week, Perú 16 is celebrating our one year anniversary of Peace Corps service. That means I have been in my community about 9 months. Thinking about all that I hoped to accomplish by the end of my 2 years is a bit daunting….When will I ever find the time? And where are all those people I thought would be eager to jump into projects with me? Why are most of the people I still consider good friends in Perú actually fellow volunteers rather than Peruvians? There have been a lot of accomplishments in this short time, many of which have to do with working in the school and our two radio programs. But there is this poster in my room with a list of large projects I want to see through that I don´t know how to tackle. And already I can see certain dreams have slipped away.
It is also an interesting place to be, because we volunteers of Perú 16 are getting ready to say goodbye to the group that came a year before us (Perú 14). I am beginning to wonder what I will do for work in a year. At the same time that I need to buckle down and get rolling on bigger projects, I need to begin to figure out what is next. How can I use these two years to find the perfect job back in the States (you know, those kinds of jobs that come with a salary)?
I have dreamed since I was 16 about going to seminary, and that is still very far away. But I am wondering how the heck I would come up with 80 grand to pay for that, not to mention the 30 grand I already have to pay back for the bachelor degree I paid for with student loans. Yikes. And what would my ragamuffin ministry look like anyway? Do I really have anything to offer the Christian community in terms of leadership and a message?
And with all of these questions and possible moments for me to screw up God´s big plan, I keep coming back to this moment I had at the beach in Lima in March. I had just really put myself in a vulnerable position, telling someone that I really, really cared for them. And the feelings at the time weren´t returned. I felt embarrassed for having been so open, hoping I hadn´t ruined a friendship. I was disappointed in myself for not waiting on God´s signal, like I had jumped the gun. I wanted to be so much more disciplined, waiting for some waterfall or sign in the sky first. So I was fretting about having said how I felt. At the same time, I really thought this person was missing out on something that could be beautiful and I didn´t understand why they didn´t see what I saw.
I woke up and went for a run with all of these thoughts rotating within my head. I wanted to run ´til I didn´t feel upset anymore. So I ran from my hostel down the road and down the hill to the beach. Winded and down on myself, I came to this rocky pathway out into the ocean. And I walked out with so many frustrations, disappointments and apologies that I kept expressing intensely in my prayers. ¨I am sorry God. I am sorry for not waiting on You to give me some extravagant signal. I am sorry I am not more disciplined…¨ And at that moment, this wave crashed so incredibly hard against the rocks beside me that it shook and jumbled every thought I had been stressing over. And I heard God say very forcefully to me, ¨you underestimate me¨.
I realized that I was giving myself way too much credit - that I could actually screw up God´s grand plan. And I sat there for a long time just listening to God comfort me, telling it to me over and over again. You underestimate me. You underestimate me. You underestimate me. This God that not only made the waves that I couldn´t stop with all my force, if I willed it with all my heart and soul, made every being, this Earth, the Universe. And little Terrace won´t be able to get in the way of that. How comforting that was then, and still is today with all of these uncertainties and pressures.
I´m ready and I´m listening. I am bound to mess something up. But I take comfort in knowing that God will move me and shape me. We´ll mess it up. But we´ve been chosen all the same. God moves and works within us like an unstoppable wave.

if you´ve been thinking about sending me something

Please forgive this kinda selfish blog entry/wish list. I know there are many people who have been wondering what kinds of things I could use if they sent something. So here is an answer for those of you who read the blog:

Ok, faithful readers, I have a little request for those who might have a good Christian book laying around the house. I´m running low on Christian commentary or devotion-type reading material. Volunteers are really great about swapping books, but this is a subject area that is lacking. So, if there were any of you planning to send me something at some point anyway, know that I would love to get my hands on something thought-provoking related to the big JC. I´m also lacking in the Christian music department, don´t really know what new stuff has been coming out lately. Sweet mixed cd? Maybe I could send you a bracelet or necklace made from one of our local Peruvian hippies.

I also want to know what people are reading right now in terms of Chrisian writers. What have you been reading?

If you don´t have any Christian books and want to send something, you can never go wrong with food, coffee or spices from the U.S. Nuts, chili/soup mixes, beef jerky, seasoned salt.


Terrace Hill--Cuerpo de Paz
Casilla Postal 208
Oficina Serpost S.A.
Chiclayo, Peru

Things are going pretty well with work. School has started back from break today, and I hope to teach a lot of classes the next two weeks to catch up on lost time. We still have the two radio shows in Olmos, but we´re changing the AM station to be an informal show called ¨Cafe con Las Chicas¨ aka ¨Coffee with the Girls¨. Caroline and I won a little bit of grant money to buy books and pay for kids of project Ironman/Ironwoman to go on a trip at the end of the school year if they complete the program. Yay!!!!

Environmental volunteers from Perú 14 are wrapping up their last few months before heading back to the States. I´m going to miss them. Caroline will be sticking around and working in Lima, leading all the environment volunteers. I´m so excited to be going home for Christmas. So plan to be in Lubbock, Texas between December 23rd and January 2nd if possible.

Camps of thought on that Jesus dude.

Happy Peruvian Independence Day to everyone reading from the United States. We had a new president installed yesterday. Lisa, Sarah and I got together to celebrate and watch Ollanta make his first speech in office. We ate some popcorn, some paneton (my favorite fruit cake), coffee and cold beer.

We also have been watching the documentary ¨Jesus Camp¨. It´s been a few years since I´ve seen that film, and I forget how much it reminds me of my evangelical childhood. Keep in mind, that our Southern Baptist church was not that crazy, but they did teach us that we are in a spiritual war with the devil, that there is a darkness in people who aren´t Christians. You´re either saved and going to heaven or you´re headed to hell. Christians better tell everyone they know, even if it makes them uncomfortable. Gays are sick, no make that filthy. People who have abortions are murderers. There is a black and white way to look at sin. God does have a clear political party. There are people who have these answers, who have been sensible and humble enough to pick up their cross and follow in the right path. The rest are lost, empty, and don´t realize what they are missing out on.

I used to think all of those things…because I was taught by adults that I respected. Sometimes they were said outright, and other times they were just known by all the members and suggested more subtly. But I remember my arrogance in having known the way, my pity for the lost. Oh, how I feared for their future beyond the grave. I was so afraid of God, afraid of disappointing God, afraid of disappointing my earthly family of God. Fear. Fear. Fear. And still, with all of those terrible memories, those faulty pieces in my logic, I also remember a deep and moving love for God that is more true and good than anything I´ve ever known. When I was 6, there was a short time when our family didn´t go to church. And I remember lining up chairs in our playhouse to make pews for my little sister, Logi, and preaching from one verse in the book of Matthew. I can still remember that overpowering feeling of love and wisdom that was within me even at that age. The Holy Spirit was real and moved with a force that was from far beyond me.

My past with Christianity and the church have been a mixture of these two kinds of feelings: feelings of shame and judgment, and feelings of liberation, love and truth. One of my favorite professors in college told me there are people who have been damaged by their conservative Christian upbringings and leave their faith behind altogether, and then there are those who stick it out and wrestle with their faith, and come out stronger for it. I really believe that, if we really are changed by the story of Jesus, that we become part of the Church in the biggest sense of the word. With all of its current and historical problems, we are made a part to complete one another. We help one another to think and evaluate what we´re really saying, how we´re really living.

And as important church, the community of Jesus lovers, is, I´m seeing that God has given me this time in Perú to heal from those painful experiences that I hold with the church and see ¨non-Christians¨ differently. I think I´ve been taken away from it for awhile to be brought back with a better understanding of who I am and how I can help. More importantly, I´m learning to be a person after God´s own heart, rather than after the heart of Christians. I care so deeply about the approval of certain people that I consider to be very close to God. And I´m seeing that, even when I feel ok with something in my God time, I still ache for the approval of those people.

And somehow, getting me to Perú and far away from my Christian community is giving me the freedom to figure out what I want my life to look like, what I really believe free of judgment. I can´t say that it´s led to any amazing revelation. I have nothing stunning to share with you all. At the moment, what I understand is pretty basic. That is that I don´t have the answers, and all I want to do is be one after God´s own heart. I want to figure out how feed the hungry, clothe the naked, care for the sick, visit the imprisoned. Truth be told, I´m not literally doing any of that, but I think Shane Claiborne was right to say that the point is FINDING A NEED AND FILLING IT. I think it is there that we really find ourselves as part of Christ´s body.

There´s No Place Like Olmos

I wouldn´t say that I necessarily see Corral de Arena or Olmos as home, but I´ve got a good group of friends and community here. I don´t know that I´ve explained this, but I live in the district of Olmos (approximately 10,000 people), in the town or caserio called Corral de Arena (pop. around 700). There is hardly anything in my town, except for a restaurant that no one really goes to. So Olmos is where I go for pretty much anything we need. For anything more, I have to go to the capital of Lambayeque, which is Chiclayo. We currently have 7 volunteers living in Olmos, 5 girls and 2 guys. All but one of the guys are environment volunteers. So, as you may imagine, the girls have bonded really well, and we end up doing a lot of work together. We´ve got something special in Olmos that is different from most Peace Corps experiences, because we are such a tight cluster. It gives us an opportunity to tackle more than we might have time for alone, and using everyone´s creativity and ideas makes our projects more sucessful. Our big project together is our Environmental radio shows which we are now doing twice a week, once on AM and once on FM. The FM one is more formal, while the AM station gives us a chance to relax and be more conversational. For example, on AM this week, I´m gonna talk about rap and raggeton music.

Let me introduce the Olmos crew. For the boys, we have Speare and John. Speare lives in Olmos. We don´t see him very often, but we like to tease him for working out so much. John lives in Ñuape and is doing good work. John is very outdoorsy, a very knowledgeable bird enthusiast with a quirky list of interest including writing poetry in Spanish about food. There is Carolyn who lives in Sincape. Carolyn is always upbeat, happy, ready to take on new projects. She´s also my go-to girl for having a beer, singing and dancing around. Next we have Sara Lev. in La Estancia which is within an hour´s walk from my site. We´re from the same group and trained together. Sara Lev. is who we called the most beautiful girl in Perú (think sexy librarian). For some reason, there is no one more beautiful than ¨the Sarita¨ to Peruvian men. When she visits our sites, men will ask about her from then on. It´s kinda ridiculous. Sara is the analytical one in the group. On the Chachapoyas trip, she earned the name ¨Ball-buster Sara¨, shortened later to just ¨Busty¨, because she doesn´t take shit and is often the one to speak up and get tough. Sara was the Queen of Recycling yesterday in the parade, sporting a dress made of paper. We also have Miss Lisa, who used to live in my site but is now living and working in Olmos. She´s working with an animal refuge, mostly for animals sold on the black market and also the Pava Aliblanca, a native bird that is close to extinction. Lisa coordinates our radio shows and the funding. She´s gotten me into Glee, which has inspired many a dance/sing party at the house of the Bulla (pronounced Buya).

Ok, so Bulla has to have her own paragraph. A very special person in my life, Bulla got her name when she first entered Peace Corps nearly 2 1/2 years ago. She was in her Spanish class, being very loud as she always is, cackling and having a good time, and another Spanish teacher who could hear her from far away muttered ¨bulla¨ under his breath, which means ¨ruckus¨. Ever since Sarah has been Sarah Bulla. After 2 years living in the Andes mountains of Yauyos, Lima, she was offered the third year position in Olmos to manage 20 schools that are a part of the Environmental Education Network of Olmos, started by another volunteer whose name was also Sara. Bulla´s house in where all the other volunteers go for internet, good food prepared in a nice kitchen, and a break from the stresses of site. Bulla is loud and funny, always dancing around and keeping us laughing. I´m not sure I´ve met anyone so happy. When the rest of us are done for the day, she´ll stop and talk to every Peruvian who tries to get her attention in the street. Bulla is helping me to love the Environment more. I have a love for the Earth in the sense that I want to do work to protect it: environemental education, trash campagns. But Bulla loves hiking, camping, kayaking, bird watching, rolling around in the grass (accidentally with dog poop once or twice). Naturally, she was the Queen of the Environment in the parade yesterday. We rode on a cart covered in palm branches and banana leaves, pulled by a donkey and a lovely old man.


This past week was the Festival del Limón, the Festival of the Lime. Olmos is known for growing those tiny limes you might buy for your ¨cold ber¨. We had two floats in the parade, one for the environment and one for recycling, covered in things made of recycled materials like plastic bottles turned into flowers. The announcer made a mistake in announcing us: ¨and here we have the Queen of the Environment with her gringo...correction, with her gringa¨. A funny way to put it, hope that doesn´t get us into trouble later. I think it was fine. I was supposed to be her chofer, but the donkey was spooked by all the crowds, so I just rode on the float anyway. For the festival, we also did the puppet show with Don Cochinon - a trash-loving, sing-happy character who wants to dirty the whole planet. The kids always love that show, and it carries a good message about not littering and the importance of recycling. During the 2 week festival, we also put on games, kiosks, and an environmental quiz for students to win prizes. We also participated in a Guinness World Record, eating the largest plate of goat ever! Really, it was more like 15,000 plates and 500 goats. Yum yum. The cast of the Peruvian tv show/telenovela ¨Hay Fondo Al Sitio¨ came out and performed a concert, really only Joel sang while the rest danced around. I was so happy for the people, that show is something they own as a country and makes them proud. Seeing them in person was huge. And Nicolas is so much better looking in person. That´s one good looking man.

I´m stoked to be living here with this group of volunteers, sad that Carolyn will be leaving us for sure and hoping we can keep Bulla and Lisa around for one more year. We´ve got something incredible going on here.

8:05

When I first got to site, I put an alarm on my watch to go off at 8:05 AM everyday to wake me up. After training, it was really nice to get to sleep in. 8:05 was usually the time when volunteers were beginning to gather at the training center. We'd take turns making coffee for the rest of the volunteers. And slowly a group of us would form a circle and watch it brew. But, when I got to site, I bought a really comfortable mattress and loved to sleep til 7:30 or 8. I put the alarm as a back up to me waking up naturally. To Peruvians, waking up at 8 AM is late. By that time, my host mom has usually swept the cement and dirt patio and kitchen areas. She's cooked breakfast and is on to more chores. I was also struggling with a depression when I first got to site. Life in the campo is difficult, really boring a lonely a lot of the time. So sleeping became a lovely escape in addition to feeling good.

But I felt like I needed a change. I started training for the marathon, and that got me out of bed earlier. It's too hot to run past 8 AM. I'd wake up around 6:30 or 7. The runs became more and more energizing and rewarding. I'd end them dancing, singing, praying. And slowly, life got better and better. I'd wake up earlier, but the alarm would still go off. I began to gauge how my life was going by what I was doing at 8:05, and now it's a thing. It's a way to check on myself. Sure, sometimes I'm sleeping (and that is a wonderful thing), but I'm delighted by the variety of activities taking place at 8:05. Cooking breakfast with a special someone. Singing. Reading. Stretching. Laughing at my little brother Anderson shaking his booty and getting in trouble at breakfast time, that sweet face, that boisterous cackle that makes me want to hold him tight and tell him to never change.

Sunday, Carolyn, Dani and I were 2 hours into our 15 mile run in the Bosque do Pomac (part of the dry forest) when my alarm went off. I was overwhelmed by the beauty, in pain and hoping I'd make it back to the town. We still have 50 minutes to go. Dani had taken us down a shadier route, but it meant running in sand - good training for what Pacasmayo will be like. From about 50 yards in front of me, two white horses, one fully-grown and one foal, came galloping across our running path with their manes were flowing, kicking the sand as they left our sight again. "I'm really living", I thought to myself. And 8:05 often has that effect on me. It's a moment for gratitude. Diarrhea and my weekly sicknesses aside, life is good. I look forward to figuring out ways to make 8:05 even better!

feet to the pavement

Hope you all take my words with a grain of salt. I'm just some Jesus-loving ragamuffin trying to figure things out, nothing more.

I've been training for the Peace Corps marathon for many weeks at this point. My last run was the 12-miler, a big mark for me. Not only was it the longest run I've ever accomplished, but I did it in Sincape which is hilly when I've been training on flat ground. The view was stunning. I could see the rolling hills in the early morning hours every time I reached a peak. The hills were not as hard to take as I had anticipated. I finished it in 1 hour 25 minutes, a very good time for my abilities. But for the last 5 or so days since that run, I have been limping around in pain, walking like an old person. I should probably be stretching more, running more intensely throughout the week. I could take my speed up a notch or two. Truthfully, if I did all of those things, I probably wouldn't be training in the first place.

I'm a girl that once said, "why run unless someone is chasing you?". It dumbfounds me how I'm even here. The question doesn't just apply to running, but my life. How did this girl from Texas, raised by Lloyd and Gina get here: in Peru, running 'til I'm limping, living with people who are often overlooked and left to themselves, here with a heart for Jesus and deep desires for things that have been said to be far from him. My faith, my walk with Christ, me trying to do what is best and helpful with this life of mine is a lot like training for this marathon. I'm not sure exactly what I'm doing. It sure seems a lot easier to do when I'm just thinking about it. On paper, decisions are easy. I know what is best, where I should go, what I should do. I felt like I had it pretty much figured out. Peace Corps. Possibly get married with grand signals from the heavens to tell me who. Go to seminary in Denver. Move to Guadalajara or some place like it. Start an intentional community. I'm not sure if you all can relate to those kinds of feelings of certainty. It is kind humbling when possibilities get more complicated.

I'm reading "The Last Lecture", a book about a professor who participated in the last lecture series as if he was going to die, but this professor actually was going to die. I found myself thinking the other day about what I would want to have done when I die. I started a prayer to God. "I just hope that I can say I sacrificed enough". Before I could say the word sacrifice, I could feel God interrupt my prayer with a verse from Matthew: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice".

I get so stressed out about every step I take in life, so completely crippled by the fear of screwing up. I almost quit training for the marathon for the same reason. The first week, I had to walk within the first mile. I ended my runs so very angry at myself, beating myself up for not looking like Dani or Carolyn when they ran. (These girls were doing 10 miles before the real schedule even started.) My fat legs rubbed together. I was breathing heavy almost immediately, feeling pain in my side. I felt God asking me over and over again "why are you doing this?" It echoed in my head over and over. "Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this?" When my answer became about improving me for me and not for others, my runs got easier. I let myself walk when I needed to. I cut the runs during the week when necessary and took the long runs easy.

It was when I started to think of my runs in terms of who I am, finding my stride, that I actually could say that I was a twelve mile runner. Running isn't easy. When I do it, it certainly isn't pretty. In fact, I usually start out wobbly and limping. But that Lord is reminding me that it is about doing it. My running and my faith aren't theoretical. They aren't comfortable ideas that I can simply imagine working well it my head. But my feet are on the pavement. I'm doing it. And that is the only way I'm going to be able to do anything.

P.S. This blog is being written in the lovely city of Chachapoyas. So incredibly beautiful. I'm not sure there would have been a better way for God to show us how great we are loved than this earth we've been given and the people we enjoy it with. If you come to Peru, you should definitely check out Chachapoyas, aka the poor man's Machu Picchu.

Peru 16, how I love thee. Let me count the ways.

Last week was Early In Service Training (Early IST). We spent the week in Tina's sight of Chongoyape and visited the animal reserve Chaparri, home to a Peruvian bear that makes nests in trees. I hadn't seen all of my friends from training since the end of November when we swore-in together. We didn't get to have all 70-something of us together for safety reasons, but all the environment volunteers were together again. I didn't realize how much I missed them until I was en route to meet them. We had such an amazing experience together in training. Let me tell you, environment volunteers know how to have a good time. We spent the better part of the week making jokes and drinking cold beer after a long day of work. Brock had just left, decided to go home and work on the farm. Tina printed a picture of his bearded face and put it on a Barbie doll with a yellow dress. He came with us everywhere, taking photos of Brock eating lunch with us, looking in the mirror, hanging out with the bears.

Eliot decided to quote famous lines of American movies in Spanish. There is that scene in "Anchorman" where Will Ferrel's character is trying to woo Miss Veronica Corningston by working out and he says something like "1001, 1002...oh, I was just doing my arms and back. It's boring, but it's part of my life." And so, all week long, people were walking around quoting it: "Es aburrido, pero es parte de mi vida". It became so popular that people worked it into their diagnostic reports. Each time someone would creatively slip in the phrase, we would crack up, which confused the boss man. After John's presentation, he put a poster up that was making fun of Tina for being old. She's actually only 27 and isn't the oldest person in Peru 16, but has become the brunt of a running joke about her being ancient. The picture included her drinking some Fiber Max, watching Matlock while reading a Reader's Digest featuring Agatha Christy, getting ready for bed at 5:30, thinking about how she wished FDR could run again. Hilarious!



There was a mustache competition among the boy volunteers. Our boss Diego has this mustache that has been a part of him for over 20 years (never shaving it off). In his thick accent, he explains that men should have a mustache because "keeeesing a woman without a mustache is like eating an egg without salt" All the boys of our group showed up with all sorts of funny facial hair, all sorts of mustaches. On the last day, Diego judged the competition. Losers were pounded with water balloons. And then we all joined in on the fun. Everyone got soaked!

For April Fool's Day, we decided to play a prank on Diego. (And he got us back with the water balloon attack.) I suggested that we talk to the local jail in Chongoyape and get them to "arrest" a couple of volunteers and Diego having to come to the rescue. We got the PC doctor, Jorge, and the safety and security guy, Enrique, involved. They kept Diego calm. Our coordinator, Brian, called him and told him that volunteers Boy Alex and Ali were found them drunk in the dark, passed out...naked from the waist down. He asked him to go straight to the jail. Diego was there within 2 minutes! He was furious, and he said it all with just his face. We all came out yelling "April Fool's". It took him a few minutes to realize it was a joke. He thought we were just happy to see him there to rescue our friends. The best part was how into it the police were. They hand-cuffed Ali and brought out guns, loading them and waving them around. That part was kinda scary. But they all were so giggly. I would have to say it was a sucessful application of Goal 2: bringing the U.S. to Peru.

We had a good among of downtime to drink on the roof of our hostel, go to the river, dance in Chiclayo. The last night on the roof Ali and Patrick were beatboxing while Eliot and Hobo Alex took turns free-stylin'. Impressive. Even more incredible was Hobo Alex sharing the slam poetry he writes with us. We were all blown away by the power of his words, the rhythms, his passions expressed so brilliantly. Alex talked about his his travels, his vibrant way of living, the pain of love and a critic of the necessity of diplomas and higher education. He left us speechless. All we could manage to say was thank you. After the week of training, we went to a club in Chiclayo and danced until at least 3 in the morning, some until much later. The club put on an "hora loca" (clowns on stilts) around 2 and dropped confetti on the crowd at 2:45. I hadn't cut loose like that in Peru before in terms of dancing.

So, Peru 16, I love you all. Thank you for a wonderful week. You guys are such an amazing group, and I'm proud to call myself a 16-er.

Sha na na na na na hey hey Lambayeque eh eh

Sooo many things happening all at once. I can't really write about them all. The big thing is that early in-service training starts tomorrow. I have to go home and do laundry and be ready to leave for more than a week (thinking I'll just re-wear some clothes to save on space and time). Who is gonna really care if I smell anyway? I've been frantically finishing my community diagnostic this week. It's a report on my community - what it is like, what needs to be done, what I can possibly do in the next two years. Yeah. Kinda intimidating. Nevertheless, I'm excited to say that I've pretty much finished the report and just need to make some signs for my presentation.

I've got about 10 possible projects in mind. I'm trying to use my creativity and passions to make projects my own. I want to do an "Ama Tu Peru" campaign modeled after "Don't Mess With Texas". The campaign will focus on the various aspects of trash management. I want to coordinate with volunteers to put on events, radio shows, and paint murals to spread the word. Maybe people will think twice about littering or burning their trash. Only time will tell. We did the first part of this campaign in a radio spot (have I mentioned I'm on the radio twice a month as of now?). The Olmos girls have a radio program. A couple weeks ago, I issued a challenged to the Olmos girls to write songs about trash using popular music (i.e. raggaeton and Shakira).

Sara Lev, Sara Bulla and I wrote this song to the tune of "Tu Angelito soy yo" entitled "La Basurita de Yo" (the little trash of mine). The song talked about a guy who was eating an ice cream in the park and then threw the trash on the ground when he was done. I sang that song on the radio and it was tough. The song is at a fast pace, but I think it worked out nicely. People said they could understand us clearly. Then my song gets interrupted with a song sung by Sara Bulla and written by the lovely Sara Lev. We took the Waka Waka song from Shakira and Sara Lev made it about caring for the earth and the different ways you should or shouldn't dispose of trash. The "Waka Waka eh eh" was changed to "Lambayeque eh eh". And "this time for Afrika" was changed to "porque es tu pais" (because this is your country). My favorite line was about how you shouldn't burn trash because it will give you cancer "hey oh". Haha. Hilarious. Not the cancer part. The "hey oh" just cracks me up every time.

And Sara Bulla tore it up on the radio as one would expect. Bulla means louds in Spanish, and she had just the right voice and enthusiasm for the job.

I'm still running. I can call myself a six mile runner, hopefully I'm be close to a 9 mile runner tomorrow. I didn't train very hard this week with all the stress...not to mention we found out no one is in charge of planning the marathon. There isn't a volunteer in Pacasmayo anymore. I am pushing for us to put one on in Olmos. Carolyn and Dani want to do the half marathon in Lima scheduled for May. We shall see. I kinda like the idea of doing a marathon just before my 25th birthday. I ain't old yet. And we could maybe even make it an "envirothon". I just learned of this word today.

I had some great moments in my community this month. It is starting to feel like home and I miss it when I'm gone. I've been traveling a lot this month for anniversary celebrations and visits to the capital to get things done...like try to find out if I have a parasite. Only in Peace Corps could the sentence be uttered "oh, I think I'll go drop of my poop and then catch a movie" without anyone batting an eye.

Keep me in your prayers as I make some important decisions this year. Here is a link to the Waka Waka video. This song just makes my day. Hopefully we can make a music video with our environmental, Peru version.

the long road to ruin

I found out tonight that it is recommended that you share with people if you're training for a marathon, because then you are held accountable to people. I had originally written a blog to talk about the experience, but had decided against posting it because the blog got really sappy. It talked about hurt feelings from junior high track - the mean things teammates had said when I really sucked. I generally finished in last place at the 1 and 1.5 mile races...with the exception of when Athena would run (and she was 4 foot 1 inch tall). (Tangent: Athena sent out a thing today saying she is doing a Susan G. Komen 60 miles in 3 days fundraiser. Go Athena!)

Anyway, the point is, I am training to run a marathon and all you praying people please pray for inspiration. The first day of training really sucked and I felt God asking me over and over again "why are you doing this?" I feel like I have healthy reasons for wanting to do it: to fight gaining weight from the campo diet, because it is an awesome opportunity to run a marathon in Peru with other volunteers, and because I am happier/more productive when I am in better shape. But I have to check myself, make sure that it isn't to make up for all those hurtful words from 11 years ago that are still floating around in my head.

In general, I am more of a goofy-dance-in-the-dark kind of person. I would rather groove to some Earth, Wind and Fire or hop around for an hour to some Phoenix with no one to laugh at me but the good Lord. (And I'm pretty sure I've made God laugh quite a bit with my funky moves.) After a better run on Wednesday, I was dancing and singing some rap/R&B song in the campo with a farmer watching the whole scene (unbeknownst to me). Exercise becomes about how the music changes my heart, who comes to my mind, the ideas that form while I'm moving and have time to think. I like to wake up and decide that day what to do, how far to walk, jog, hike or ride. Nothing is mapped or planned ahead of time. Some days it is peaceful, prayerful. Other days, I'm surprised by what ends up happening, leaving me delighted at the end of it all wondering “where did that come from?” And God uses that to take me to new places, to show me life in new ways...to teach me how to walk more closely together. I learn how to love myself in ways that wouldn't impress anyone, but seem to make me and God smile together. So, I'm taking this marathon thing one day at a time.

I ran into these verses (no pun intended) that will help me to keep running in perspective:

Jeremiah 17:5-8 (New International Reader's Version)

5 The Lord says,
"Those who trust in man are under my curse.
They depend on human strength.
Their hearts turn away from me.
6 They will be like a bush in a dry and empty land.
They will not enjoy success when it comes.
They will live in dry places in the desert.
It is a land of salt where no one else lives.


7 "But I will bless any man who trusts in me.
I will show my favor to the one who depends on me.
8 He will be like a tree that is planted near water.
It sends out its roots beside a stream.
It is not afraid when heat comes.
Its leaves are always green.
It does not worry when there is no rain.
It always bears fruit."

The Olmos Crew is awesome. Exhibit A:

Subject: PLEASE particiPLATE muahahahahhaa

Hello All BEAUTIFUL OLMOS folk :-)

Hope the sun is shinning brightly in your life today. Or, as Sara
Liben has just informed me, I hope your sky is full of clouds. I am
sitting here with the lovely Terraca and Sara and we have designed a
Stupendous Event that all of Olmos volunteers are FORMALLY invited to
participate in.....

"I DOMINATED the FUCK out of that SANDWICH" Competition
Olmos, Lambayeque, Peru, March 20 2011.

Confused Enough?? Dear Reader let US enlighten YOu about the events
that are about to unfold before your very eyeballs.

the WHO: **Panel of Judges: Dani Reuter, Sebastian and Rosa
Lopez (Sarah's host siblings), and special guest...straight from
Chiclayo mismo....the MIKE REED

**The Iron Chefs: Lisa Melendy, Sara Lev,
Therasa Hill, Caroline Booth, Sarah Bulla, Speare Hodges, John
Rohrback

the WHEN: Sunday March 20: Competition Starts at 12 pm (arrive
earlier to prepare yourself). ATTENTION: judges try to arrive as close
to 12 as possible in order to eliminate biases...aka this is a blind
food competition.

the WHERE: The judging will take place at My lovely, bachlorette
abode. Be prepared to share Kitchen space.

the WHAT: We have only ONE rule: that is all ingredients
that are to be used for the sandwiches can ONLY come from your
site/Olmos/or Chiclayo.
All chefs must let me know if they are going
to be needing a cocina ASAP (no later than regional meeting).
I have utensils and plates here but seeing
as presentation is 25% of the score, prepare to bring stuff from your
own site to spice up your presentation. You will be presenting one
sandwich to the judges for tasting (that will be cut and distributed
between the four judges) and enough supplies to able to prepare 2
additional sandwiches for AFTER the competition.
Rubric:
*Presentation: 1-5 points
*Originality: 1-5 points
*SABOR: 1-10 points

Otras NOtaS: You can prepare a hot OR cold sanwich, however NO
hamburgers (we will consider this other level of competition at a
later date). Don't forget to include a creative title (that will be
apart of the judging). If you wish to change your status in the
competition or cannot participate PLEASE let me know ASAP. Just let me
know as soon as possible if you can make it. OJO: We need more chefs
than judges.

LET THE PLATE CREATING.....BEGINNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!

lotta love,

the creators of this Sandwich Paloooooza

Shame on me: a tale of verguenza

Verguenza - the spanish word for shame or embarrassment. Shhh shhh shame on me. I'll cut to the story. Me on stage at a big concert in Olmos, after a few pisco sours, trying to rip the shirt off of the lead singer of Corazon Cerrano and then his backup singer. He was frightened. Smiling with an assursed look that I could be trusted, I yelled "let me" in English I believe I recall. How did I get there?

It was a week before when I was finishing summer school. The world map wasn't yet finished. Sara Lev. came to my site to help me draw in the rest of the countries. After the junior high and some high school kids would draw, it would be so off that I would have to correct almost everything they drew. This added up to over 40 hours of my time outside of working on it during class. I was at the point where I could no longer find the patience or motivation to move forward. Seeing how inaccurate it all was and trying to draw it all myself was just too much. I needed a helper. God bless you, Sara Lev.

Throughout the week, we finished painting the mural and did projects. Each of my three classes was required to complete a community project around the theme of the environment to get a certificate for my class. The younger two classes picked up trashed, particularly broken glass, around the community and worked in the organic farm. I laughed pretty hard when my 1st through 3rd graders were trying to lift pitchforks, shovels, and pickaxes that weighed more than they did. My 4th and 5th graders were more helpful. I had warned them to watched for snakes as the people who owned the field had killed a snake that morning. While the kids were turning the dirt, a skinny poisinous snake slithered out the around the legs of my students as the screamed and leaped away from it. The farmer partially chopped off its head quickly, but one of my best students tried to touch the moving head. A couple days later when they were doing their trash pickup, I screamed snake. Hay una culebra!!! And they all started screaming the running again. I died laughing. I really had them going.

My high school class decided to do recycling promotion and teaching about the importance of not burning trash. I was impressed with their enthusiasm to give door to door presentations (5 minutes or less) at each house. For students who probably had never given presentations before, they were pretty good. They struggled to not get frustrated with one another for messing up parts and talking amongst themselves insteading of paying attention to the mom of the house. I was just so proud of them for their willingness to take on such a big project and with sincere conviction for the environment and health of their community and families.

I had a day before the clausura, which is kind of like a mini graduation from my summer school classes. Girl's night with the Olmos crew was exciting. I needed to cut loose and summer school was over. Projects had been completed. Many projects, many rice and potato meals, many outdoor showers later, I was ready to get a little crazy with the girls. This past month, the volunteers in the Olmos area have had three girl's night, each of which were incredibly uplifting and a much needed break from campo life. Girl's nights consist of lots of ice cream, dancing, drinking, the pollo a la braza place, and more food. This last girl's night was planned to coincide with a big carnival evening in Olmos with all sorts of food venders, a farriswheel, and a concert from a very well known Peruvian band called Corazon Cerrano. I went up for the girl's night and had just finished the last of my summer school classes I taught. Between the satisfaction of the completion of an incredible summer school experience, the atmosphere of the carnival and the amazingness of girl's night, I was estatic. We all were bouncing around. We bought a aerobics Shakira's Africa.

Then we went to the concert. We went where you would expect - front and center, right at the bottom of the stage. We all danced like maniacs. At one point, I start admiring the shirts the band is wearing. It is just like the kind of shirt I have been trying to buy for weeks, light-weight with two front pockets that button. I told Sara I wanted the shirt. And then I jumped on stage, started dancing with the lead singer and tried to rip his shirt off of him. He was terrified. Then two other girls joined me on the stage for a dance around. I tried to rip a shirt off of anothe band member, still without success. The crowd cheered us all on and the band didn't seem to mind us dancing so long as I stopped trying to take shirts off their backs. I'm kind of a celebrity in Olmos now and some people in my town have mentioned being at the concert, hinting with smirks on their faces to my dancing. They made a dvd and Carolyn said there is a track that is completely dedicated to my appearance. A bit of verguenza...although I'm kind of shocked by my own boldness.

That led up to our clausura. I got to say a few words about every student as they accepted their certificate. I got choked up for a few, two in particular really got to me. One was this kickass girl who joined our class for just the last two weeks. Her brothers had been in my classes the whole time and star students. But she blew everyone out of the water with her knowledge, maturity and enthusiasm. She wants to be a missionary for the Catholic church and get a high college degree to be a leader. I can't waitto see how we can work together.

The second girl that really touched my heart was this high school girl who tested my patience everyday. I kicked her out of class for having an attitude and went back to house to ask her back. She came back only to test my patience day after day for the remainder of classes. But the week of the projects she got really excited initiating the grand projects for high school and passionately yelling at group members for not getting their parts right. She didn't handle things perfectly, but she really gave a damn, even pushing us to meet on Sunday to stretch out classes (meeting early and leaving late) to reach more people.


Then I left for Lima and three glorious days of eating whatever I wanted that day. Mediterranean food. Sushi. A Dunkin donut. Oreo milkshake. Yummy yummy sandwich time. Appetizing appetizers at the U.S. Ambassador's house. Beer. Soda that tasted like pancakes. Mini waffles. Yogurt. Beer and pisco sours. Meeting up with my tech trainer Moni who let me be the first PCV to know she is having a baby!!! We went to an amazing juice place where we ran into the famous female boxer, Kina. She was being followed around by a guy with a huge camera pointed at her the whole time she was just trying to get some juice.

At the Ambassador's house, I met former President of Peru, Toledo. He was the one to invited Peace Corps to return to Peru. When he was a kid, he had a volunteer in his house and a few encouraged him to study at Stanford. I told him that my mayor loved him. He asked me where and I said Corral de Arena, Olmos. He had recently made an appearance in Olmos and knew immediately where I was talking about. I told him that my mayor and I hoped that he would win and that we needed landfills in Olmos; the trash problem is horrible. Landfills for the caserios are needed. He gave me a look like "really, you're gonna bring this up at the cocktail party?" Maybe he'll remember it after he wins. Apparently he is leading in the polls with around 60 percent of the projected votes.

I've had a lovely "vacation", enjoying the luxuries of big city life. Today I was reading Rob Bell's book, Drops Like Stars. It talks about the art of suffering - how suffering makes us better; it helps us to fill alive. I am so grateful that I got to cutloose and have so many delightful experiences, but it also helped me to see how alive I felt in the middle of all my pain. Those moments when I'm praying in the dark, hurt and unsure of what will happen next. I think I am going to train for the marathon though I don't really believe I am capable of it if I'm being completely honest. I don't like pushing myself like that.

I was running to the beach in Lima, thinking about the times this past week when I could have made better decisions. I could have eaten less, worked-out more, acted more appropriately in public. I jogged to a rock walk out thingy on the ocean and was giving myself a pretty hard time when this wave slammed so hard against the rocks that it startled me and silenced my thoughts immediately. I felt God shutting me up. I felt God tell me just how much I underestimated the unstoppable power of my God. And then I watched that being said over and over again as wave after wave beat upon the rocks with nothing that could stop it. How much stronger is this god over mine, and yet I have so little faith in God's ability to change me - to completely transform me in good time.

Dancin' In The Dark

Since I last blogged, here are some things that have happened in my life:

I climbed the mountains near my house (mountains to me, hills to Peruvians)...and fell down a large slab of rock on the mountain side. Luckily, I didn't break any bones, but it scared me. I screamed as I slid way too fast. I don't know if it was this slide or the others that ripped the back of my pants open in three places. It became clear real quick that this route was not a good choice for the class hike.

My host brother started a bar at my house which was a really bad situation – lots of super drunk Peruvian men several nights a week. One day, I was doing my laundry, listening to Feist and watching a man throw-up all over himself and our table and chair. The music would be way too loud, with men way too drunk. My comments of disapproval didn't make an impact until one night when the music and a married man hitting on me put me over the edge. No, my name is not “California”. I will not bring you another beer, and you cannot snap your fingers at me. Please don't tell me that you respect me, that you have four children and then follow it up with how pretty my face is. I told my host family that I couldn't live with the bar at the house. My host brother said he'd move the bar, but it led to a while when I didn't know if I was really more important to them than the business. The drinks kept being served and I just got more umcomfortable. One night I lost it when I could hear the music at my house from the school and came home to a combi, a truck and a moto with a large, loud drinking circle. I cried so hard that my body was exhausted the next day.

Update to that situation is that I am still planning to live here. My host brother has said he has for sure moved the business. He called me his sister. :) My host Mom, however, is moving for 8 months and taking my 5 year-old brother (my favorite thing in Peru). The plus side is that means I get to cook many meals for myself, which means lots of granola, cereal, yogurt, veggies and fruits! My real Mom is in Long Island for the month helping fill the staff at the airport.

Summer classes are going pretty well. We're still painting the mural. I have to correct half of what gets drawn. I'm trying to remind myself it isn't about having a map, but a mural the kids can say they accomplished. We hiked up part of the mountain/hill. They yelled and ran around pointing out all the parts of town, how small things looked from far up. Supposedly they saw a mountain lion. My host brother, Edwin, says he saw it too. I'm convinced it was actually a sandy-colored rock. We also went to the organic charca (farm), hopped around in the fields and picked fresh fruit and veggies. This week, we went to the zoo – an animal refuge for wild animals that were sold on the black market - monkeys, crocodiles from Tumbes, lots of birds and a fox. It's also the only place in the world that knows how to reproduce the Pava Aliblanca (a species of bird that lives in the dry forest and headed towards extension) in captivity.

This month was definitely my hardest month. The excitement of being on an adventure in another country had worn off and I was just lonely. I lost my camera, had a Peace Corps projector stop working properly in my possession and a laptop cord stop working (no cord, no computer time). And then I got sick again. And then again. (I think I'm up to 5 or 6 times on antibiotics in 5 months.) I went back and forth from thinking my family loved me to thinking they just would rather I leave so they could make money with their new bar. I wasn't sure if my host Mom even liked me as a person. I kept getting served meals to eat alone at the dinner table outside. One night, I cried while I ate my dinner alone. I've been exercising, but my waistline continues to grow. A diet of mostly rice and potatoes isn't helping.

But even in the midst of what seemed to be quickly becoming a very bleak situation, I dove into prayer, and taking hope in the words of Paul – to live is Christ and to die is gain! Exhausted from this world, from crying, from a poor diet, I would repeat to myself the promise I have in Christ: Jesus died on the cross to pay for my sin, and rose from the dead so that I might live. And in those moments this month when I didn't feel like I could be certain of anything else, I said that promise to myself over and over again. I knew for sure that Jesus had died and rose again so that I might live. Something I had before said with a slight hesitation comforted me, gave me hope that there is more to live for than what this life has to offer. The gift of faith couldn't have come at a better time.

I'm not sure what God has for me to do in the future, where I'll be in two or three years. But I know that I take this truth with me everywhere I go. My spirit wants to shout this truth in the plaza, in the market, to hold someone's hand and softly share those comforting words. Paul, who has been the apostle I've really struggled with – traditional interpretations of his letters – has been the one I have related to the most recently. I read his letters and they speak to my heart from a radical place. I understand the desire to go and proclaim the good news to all people. And I realize that this could get me in trouble as a Peace Corps volunteer. They told me I can't go around preaching this message. Surely the love of Christ is something that needs no words. I am going to blaze a passionate fire for Christ whether I try to or not. Even with all my sins, complaining about others being the big one right now, the message of Christ beams from my heart. To live is Christ. To die is gain.

...Since I initially typed up this blog, I had a dance party in my room. I was listening to the Phoenix album for the first time and thought I have to dance! I danced around my room like a goofball for the whole album and tried to think of silly dance moves I can make the girls at summer camp do next week. The next night when I crawled into bed, there were all of these dead ants in the bed. I couldn't figure out why and then I remembered the dance party in the dark. Apparently I had stomped them all to death. On a related note, clean sheets are amazing.

summer school, movie night, and my new friend

A lot of things have happened in the past month. I was sick and on antibiotics for the fifth time in the last four months. This last time put me in the emergency room in the middle of the night. Even after they injected medicine in my IV to keep me from vomitting, I still couldn't hold down even a gulp of water with my medicine. My summer classes have started and that gives me something to do and think about throughout the week. I look forward to my classes, especially the younger grades. I'm struggling a bit with the older kids. I can't tell how much of our problems are cultural and how much of it is just because these are teenagers with attitudes. But I know I'm not the only volunteer struggling with lack of participation. Sara's students all cheated on their exam this week. I pretty much yelled at my kids when they wouldn't participate in activities or at least explain why they didn't want to participate. I asked them if they'd rather me make them do math, science, or read the encyclopedia! (I did make another class do that once, but only a small section before looking at a cool photo slide show.) This all escalated in the next class with me asking a girl to leave. I actually ended up going to her house and talking to her; she is supposedly returning on Monday.

The movie night was a pretty big hit. The technology tried to fail me at every corner, but we at least had something to show the community. I had advertised this “Gran Noche de Cine” - Grand Night at the Cinema – for the community to enjoy for just S/. 1.00. I checked out the Peace Corps projector, borrowed a dvd player and big speakers. There were shout-outs on the radio for the big night, announcing that we'd be showing “Ice Age” to benefit the students painting a mural of the world. Throughout the week, I would be walking or jogging around town and people would yell out to me that they were coming to the movie night. Other volunteers, Sara and Lisa, came to Corral de Arena for the big event. We were setting up and things kept breaking. The speakers were making this loud cranking noise and broke at one point. My extension cord stopped working during setup. (Who would have thought that a cheap 1 sole extension cord would break? Haha.) I forgot some wires and had to run home a couple of times and we had to switch dvd players. And then, we still don't know why, but the projector would only play the movie in black and white.

With all of the technical problems, it was good that 7pm really means 8pm in Peru. I thought this was just because people were naturally running later, but they actually planned to be an hour late. That is what is really puzzling. As people were telling me that they were coming, they would say 8pm...even though all the flyers, the poster, and the radio broadcasts said 7pm. In the end, it was a successful event. We made S/. 50 (enough to cover part of the costs, and I'll just keep the rest of the supplies I buy and use them for my next project).

I have a new friend, a 50 year-old Peruvian woman who lived outside of Los Angeles for six years. She was married to an African American that works for the LAPD. They met while he was vacationing in Peru. At the time, she was 28 years old. I won't go into all the details, but now she's divorced and living in Peru again. She comes over weekly and we both enjoy talking in English. I love that she's so American in many ways. They call her “gringa” even though she's Peruvian. She likes to walk, hours and hours everyday for the sake of walking. (I walked to Olmos the other day. It took me 3 hours and I was sunburned with blistered feet by the end. The whole way, people keep stopping to offer me a ride into town or ask me what I was doing, confused when I tried to explain it was for fun, for exercise. The just seems silly to them.) One afternoon I asked my new friend, Romy, what she'd been up to and she told me she had woken up at 4:30 in the morning, had gone up the mountain and back down. I had suggested to the director of my school to hike the mountain for fun with the kids. And he told me, ¨to you Americans, this sounds like a fun idea¨. So I´m very happy to have my very American Peruvian friend. And she eats fruit! Lots and lots of fruit!

Most of my meals consist of potatoes, chicken and rice. My diet is lacking in the fruit and fiberous vegetable department. There have been a few times I've tried to get away with just eating cereal, fruit and yogurt for dinner. But even when I say that is all I want, they will fix me a heaping plate of their food, confused why I don´t want to eat it in addition. Before they bring me the food, I can hear them talking about she. ¨She wants to eat her cereal and yogurt, nothing more.¨ ¨¿That´s all?¨ ¨That´s what she said.¨ And then, surely enough, there will be a plate of their food and them calling me to the dinner table. The second time this happened, I was going to make a stand and refuse their food. But then I went to the table and the food for the evening was more of a variety than usual. The chicken had some sort of red sauce and there were mashed sweet peas. I´ll have to make my stand on a rice and potato day.

ya durn tootin'

Grandma deserves to be a blog all to herself. My abuela is a sweet old country woman who has lived in Corral de Arena her entire life. We call country living the 'campo'. Campo literally translates to field and refers to the countryside, a rural area. It refers to farming people who live outside of the city. In the States, these people would be your country folk, your hillbillies, those rednecks I grew up simply referring to as family. (A good part of Texas would fit into this category.)

In some ways, my abuela here reminds me of my country grandmother in the States, Mamaw. My abuela is always shucking peas to go with the rice. Mamaw shucked peas in the car on our road trip to San Antonio. Before I left for Peru, Mamaw and I spent a great deal of time together on the road from Texas to North Carolina. In that time, a lot of silly expressions came out of her mouth. I tried to get my old phone working to share a couple of them with you, but I can't find the charger. I'm sure that you all can imagine the slang and accent of a hillbilly. I think that my abuela here would be comparable to that, except imagine that my grandmother was talking like that and at a rapid pace.

In the campo, they use “pues” as a filler word. It isn't used in any sensible way, but is thrown at the end or in the middle of sentences, kinda like a “ya know”. So between the slang, filler words, accent, fast-talking and her only having two teeth, we don't really communicate very well. On my end, I speak about at the level of a three year old. I can say that I'll hungry and that I'm going to the bathroom, but the rest sounds pretty ridiculous. The grammar part of my speech needs some work. The other day, I was mad a one of the transportation dudes and I started to tell him off. Thankfully I didn't because I figured out later that what I was really going to say would have translated to “you cannot take advance to me”.

Back to grandma. We don't communicate very well, but we have a lot of smiling and laughs between us. I'm the clueless gringa and she's an old country woman who catches me by surprise. I still can't get used to her grabbing the mother hen by the feet and taking it across the patio with her walker. The hens upside down, freaking out and clucking while she slowly shuffles herself to the cornmeal. The first time I saw her doing it, I ran to get my camera. Wish you could have been there.

A few weeks ago, I made this coffee I had been saving for a special occasion. I had a bag from a hotel in Fredricksburg, Texas. The coffee was grown there, and I had saved it for nearly a year. It was supposed to be enough for just one pot of coffee but I stretched it to make three. I offered my abuela a cup of coffee and she turned it down, which was not a surprised. Although Peru grows excellent coffee, everyone drinks instant coffee. My family in Corral de Arena takes it a step further and drinks Ecco – a non-caffeinated grain drink that the Mormons use. (For weeks I thought it was the “coffee” keeping me up at night; really I must have been nervous to fall asleep.) But abuela turned me down, so I offered a cup to my host mom. She said yes and I made her a cup with a ton of sugar, like they like it. She took a sip, told me it was hot at the moment, but then sat it down in front of my abuela and told her she could drink it if she wanted to. And I laughed at the ironic exchange. My abuela took one sip of that lovely cup of coffee I had been looking forward to for a year and made face, shaking her head side-to-side in disgust. Without a moment in between, she added a spoonful of Ecco, took a sip and nodded in approval. I hit the table laughing in disbelief.

When I first visited Corral de Arena, I was introduced to her arthritis. She is constantly in a great deal of pain in her legs and hands. She's now taking herbal medicine that seems to be helping. When I visited the first time, I was convinced that the problem had to do with how she cared for her feet. I didn't know about the pain in her hands. I would see her walking around usually with only one flip-flop. What foot the flip-flop was on would change throughout the day, but I couldn't imagine walking around with all that grime and no protection. People in the campo have incredibly worn out feet. It is hot, so people generally wear sandals if they wear shoes at all. But the dirt, heat, and animal poop make it impossible to have clean feet. Living here has given me a new perspective on the woman who washed Jesus' feet with here hair and tears. Those feet were probably like campo feet.

It is a mix of comedy, warm feelings and sadness that I feel for her. It hurts me that she doesn't have someone that she feels comfortable with and that would take care of her feet. I don't want to say that my family doesn't take care of her. My host mom moved all the way from another department after her dad died so that she could take care of her mother. My host 'brother', Edwin, is always helping, and her son-in-law, Cesar, stays for weeks at a time simply to be with her. This is more of an observation about the things that are lost with age...and the humor that follows. Today she was walking around with a comb in the back of her hair, looking pretty gangsta. It made me chuckle when I noticed it as she got up from the breakfast table. I'm pretty sure she was distracted by the call to breakfast and forgot it was there. Combing her hair and washing her feet are probably things her husband, Inocente, would have helped her with before he died in 2007. We visited his grave the other day. They paid a group of guys with a keyboard, guitar, and a singer/speaker to do a service at his graveside. She wept for him and seeing her made me reconsider whether marriage was actually worth the pain of losing them in the end. Often she's surrounded by family, but much of that time nobody is listening or paying attention. I find myself tuning her out when she's trying to tell me something. I just assumed that I won't understand her.

But with all of this, I think she's a pretty happy old woman. She has her grand kid around to make her laugh and give her kisses. Rosa's family will care for her for the rest of her life. Despite all of the fumes from a wood burning stove that is often lit with plastic bags, she has made it to a very old age. I'm very impressed at her ability to sleep through all sorts of ruckus, still working in miserably hot summers, and the fact that she doesn't get sick after licking raw meat to make sure it is salty enough for cooking. Here's to Grandma Rosa – the funny old woman that makes living in the campo more lively. I'm glad for everyday that I have to listen to her spontaneous howls to scare off foxes, or to call the sheep to get water. Today at lunch, she made me jump in my seat when she started howling in a high-pitched whooping voice. She also hisses at the dogs, cats and chickens to keep them away from our food. My favorite is her special gibber-gabber for the goats and the sheep. Salud, abuela, here's to more years of your hootin' and hollerin'.


***Since writing this blog, Mamaw has sent me an mp3 player full of the bluegrass and country music she grew up loving. I love my country grandma and must say that I've got a soft spot for the music. Love you, Mamaw.