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Thursday, October 29, 2009

Cañoncillo

Lots has happened since my last post. We have taken a couple trips, built a few sand sculptures, held a bible conference, and have even been reprimanded for not following "missionary rules," what ever those are . I'll try to update on each one of those.

Cañoncillo

Nestled away about an hour north of Pacasmayo is Cañoncillo or little canyon, a conservation area packed with not only a somewhat secluded lake but miles of forests and sand dunes. The hectic trip of to get to canoncillo was definitely worth it after our day of relaxation and peace at the lake. The trip started with having to catch a car to San Jose and then mototaxis to canoncillo all involving our translator Gabby and a great deal of miscommunication and confusion. We had to trek up a wooded part of the sand dunes, which is 5 times harder than walking up a normal hill. It was like walking on a really soft beach but on straight uphill. It was a wonder how anything grew up through all of the sand. After getting a little lost and turned around in this maze of a forest, we finally made it to the first lake where a few cows were grazing about 15 feet away from us. The animals weren't even startled by our presence.


The second lake was more of a person friendly lake, which included one of those amazing climbing trees whose branches hung out over the lake and a very quaint beach. Taking advantage of the sunlight of the morning we settled down on the beach to take in some rays and to have a little picnic, wonderfully prepared by Jan. I never thought I would actually say this, but I really like Tuna Salad, something that the mere smell of would make me nauseous. Our peaceful beach was taken over by two groups of university students on a field trip out to canoncillo. One was even camping near by. Both were completely fascinated with us and asked to take pictures with me. I felt like a celebrity at a press conference. They were asking me every question they knew in English and then asked to take their picture with me. So there are probably pictures of me floating around peruvian facebook now saying I met a grina or something to that effect. Meeting people from other cultures is just fascinating, especially when you aren't expecting to meet anyone like that. I think I was just very unexpected for them.

After the press conference Gabby and I took off to see the sand dunes and to see if we could watch the students sand boarding, which Cherry and I are determined to do before we leave. No such luck finding anyone sand boarding but standing in the middle of a field of sand dunes is absolutely breathtaking. Think Aladdin walking out to the Cave of wonders. Gabby and I even tried to slide down one of the hills, but learned that it was just a good way to get sand in all of your clothes and shoes. We need to find something to use as a board or a sled for the next time.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The Pier

Well, I finally took the plunge and went out on the Pacasmayo pier on Sunday. I had kind of been putting that off until I got really bored or had a big group of people that wanted to go out there mainly because you have to pay to walk out on it... That was my big gripe with it. I have never paid to walk out on a pier. That just sounded so strange to me. Anyway Cherry ended up paying the one sole for each of us to go out on the pier and it ended up being a lot more eventful than I could have ever imagined. The entire thing seems to be falling apart. There were missing, rotted or wobbly boards causing for a very uneven and terrifying for some I can imagine walk out to the end. There were even missing railings with a somewhat steep drop off into the ocean. It was your basic pier, people fishing, families congregating for a day out, and couples hand in hand walking the the length of the pier. It was all very picturesque. I of course was off in my own little world taking pictures and completely frustrated because I didn't have my big camera with me, which I'm sure none of the guys understood. They just thought I was mad at them. They keep asking me if I'm angry with them, which I have no ideas as to where that is coming from. I keep telling myself, it is just a different culture, it is just a very different culture down here.

As we are walking down the pier we saw a WHITE MAN!! It is very rare to see another "WHITE" person down here that isn't connected with us so I made eye contact and said hello, assuming he spoke English. I need to remind myself that not all White people are from the United States. That has just been so ingrained into my mind that it is a hard habit to kick. This man ended up running to catch up with me and asking in broken English/ Spanish (I don't really remember which) where I was from. He, the 60 odd man with sparkling white hair was from Scandinavia and was overjoyed to meet me. He kept telling me how interesting I was and that it was just so great to have met me. He ended up telling me all about his friend Jose, whom he was living with down here to start up his new hotel they were in the process of building. He began telling me about Jose, who was fluent in 4 or 5 languages, plays the harp, guitar, and the flute, which the Scandinavian man kept mispronouncing and told me that I must meet Jose because he would be interested in playing some music for the kids at our school. I along with Cherry and most of the guys from bible study ventured into this future hotel to meet Jose. Traveling up to the third floor, my mind completely embraces this entire experience, loving how traveling provides you with such random amazing experiences. Jose ended up excusing himself from his dinner party that he was having and bringing his giant harp out to the hallway to play for us.
Such a Beautiful Day.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Una Mes

One Month. One month ago I had just stepped off my coach into this unexpected place. This experience and Pacasmayo was something I could have never prepared myself for. I probably could have packed a little bit better and remembered that Walmart was a really long way away, but there is no manual for releasing a city girl into a very rural town, let alone a very rural town in a very foreign country.

About a week ago something changed. I finally felt adjusted. Not comfortable in the middle class, west county sort of comfortable, but adjusted. I started feeling like I actually had a life down here. Of course it was very different than the one I had been leading for the past four years. I had to learn how to just relax again. Stop feeling the need to constantly be doing something, constantly being around people, or constantly planning something. I'm definitely not cured of the need to constantly be on the go, but I think I have figured out that I can be on the go and still enjoy the here and now. I needed this time to breathe; I hadn't caught my breath from the summer just yet. I'm also starting to realize how much I am focused on myself right now, whether or not that is a good thing. This past year has pretty much been all about me. All about traveling, learning, and experiencing. In some respects I love that I'm finally worrying about myself. I have began to figure out what I want to do with my life (no asking, the plan is still formulating), I have began to start listening to myself, my emotions, and have finally started expressing them; I have began to grow up. Traveling across the world and graduating from college all in the same year will really do something to a person. (Sorry, I'll try to keep the seriousness and the blunt honestly to every month or so :-) )

Maybe that's why so many of us just take off after college to explore the world. We don't know how to deal with that transition so we cover it up with a different one. Assimilating into a new culture is very interesting. It took all of a week or two to be completely happy in England. I was on a college campus, with college students, in a small town, which just happened to be the exact same environment that I had left in America. Kirksville, Mo the Ormskirk, UK of the USA.

Assimilating to Pacasmayo, Peru was very similar to my experience in England actually, but a bit intensified. I remember being at Morrisons, our grocery store in Ormskirk and having the hardest time trying to understand the woman at the checkout counter telling me the total for my groceries. I stood there for at least a minute trying to carefully listen to her THICK northern/ liverpudlian accent and us getting so frustrated with each other because there was such a miscommunication going on over about 50 pence. In Peru, I have somehow managed to learn enough Spanish in these few weeks to actually buy things at the open market, but not without miscommunication. I went down to market on Monday to get some fish and bought them without too much struggle. Somehow I had to figure out how to tell her that I just wanted a forth of a kilo when I only knew the word for half. I just told her that I wanted less than a half a kilo and used a lot of hand gestures. I actually got my forth of a kilo and for 3.50 soles (which is a little over a dollar) It wasn't all smooth sailing in the beginning though. I couldn't even go to the grocery store alone. I was completely scared to use my limited Spanish, now I'm just a little shy about it. Girl's gotta eat, right?

Also, I don't know what everyone is talking about losing weight here.. I don't think I have lost a lb, but who knows. The food is absolutely delicious, and apart of the chicken foot soup, I have enjoyed almost every meal. I even had an amazing Peruvian hamburger from a street vender last night. No worries, I haven't gotten sick yet. Talk about delicious, this burger had two patties, all the fixins, and a huge fried egg in the middle all smothered in ahi (hot) sauce. That probably needs to be a treat though, because I'm sure it is ridiculously fattening. No queso though, so that was a bummer. :-( Chicken and fries, the token fast food down here is pretty fantastic and definitely has KFC beat. We also have this little sandwich shop which serves the most amazing spicy sausage sandwiches for 2 soles, which pared with a strawberry smoothie makes my mouth water. Ceviche, the traditional Peruvian food was also an amazing find. Pacasmayo is apparently the ceviche world's capital, as told by Carlos, this man that Cherry and I met the other day. He was riding around on this 4 wheeler with a du-rag that had an American flag in the shape of the US on the front. He yelled out, "Hey, where are you guys from?" and drove over to talk to us. He had apparently lived in Phoenix, AZ and moved back to Peru 4 years ago to retire and live on the beach. Ceviche, is raw fish marinated in a spicy lime and garlic sauce that when prepared just right is fabulous. I have decided I only really like the fleshy white, raw fish. I'm not much of a squid person. It's too rubbery.

Hopefully, I'm not gaining any weight because of this fabulous food. I severely doubt any change in my weight would go up, but I deceived not to weigh myself until I get back to the States. I think I look great and don't need to lose any weight, so I'm not going to bother even thinking about it. :-) I think that is all a part of me finally taking care of myself. I finally feel comfortable in my skin, which has been a long process over the past four years. Me gusta ser altura. I like being tall, which has been somewhat of a joke with the guys down here so I'm very glad I got over that a long time ago. Yes, I'm taller than most of the Peruvian people I have seen, which gets me even more attention. I was walking with the guys from church downtown yesterday and they saw a tall girl and automatically starting staring and talking about her. I guess tall people are sort of a novelty down here just as much as white people are. I am constantly been stared at, called a gringa, whistled at, and blown kisses from moving mototaxies. I just want to go up and smack them sometimes and tell them that they aren't being a good representation on their culture for tourists. Not all of the men are like that thught. There are a lot of Peruvian men that actually respect women, but I guess I won't ever get to meet them because they aren't the ones whistling at me in the street. OKAY, I'm done complaining about that frustration.

I absolutely love teaching. I feel like I am student teaching, because for the most part I have no idea what I am doing, but I really enjoy it. I really like coming up with new, fun things for the kids to do, and definitely like being an authority on something. I definitely have a lot to learn about teaching, if I want to continue on down this track, but for now this experience has been a lot of fun and is even helping me. I have stage fright; I get nervous, my heart starts racing, turn red, start shaking, and my voice starts to quiver when I get up in front of people alone, yet today, I sang a song to my fourth and fifth grade class. How in the world is that possible?? Maybe it’s because they don't speak great English, maybe it's because they are just kids, or maybe it’s because I'm actually growing up and growing out of it. I have pushed myself in front of crowds and even in front of my 100 + person organization at school to try and combat this stupid phobia, and finally without even thinking about it, I make a big stride in the right direction.

For everyone that I have already talked to about being down here, please don't worry about me. I know that sometimes I might seem really down and depressed but, it’s just like that sometimes. Sometimes it's just really depressing down here. It looks like a bomb went off in half of Pacasmayo and there is trash almost everywhere. I feel like I'm living in a big dumpster sometimes, but it definitely has its perks down here. I am in 70 degree weather pretty much all the time, I live 10 minutes from the beach, the food is fabulous, and I have even started to make some friends outside of my isolated community at the orphanage. Life is getting better. I'm feeling happier, and actually getting into somewhat of a routine. I'm learning Spanish, teaching, and hopefully making a difference in a child's life. I get the most amazing hugs everyday from our kids. They squeeze you tight like they haven't had a hug in years and then their faces light up afterwards. Wouldn't it be great if every hug was like that? It's pretty amazing down here sometimes.


Sunday, October 11, 2009

Starfish

I saw a fish struggling to get back into the water on Saturday when I was taking a much needed walk along the beach.. to which I have been scolded by all of my friends for. Apparently, I'm not allowed to walk alone, making me want to do it more often. I am safe. I promise.

Anyways, back to the fish. I saw this little fish on the beach and tried with all my might to pick it up and throw it back in to the ocean. I felt so bad for it and yet.. I just couldn't pick it up and put it back into the water. It was going to flail and wiggle and possibly bite me.. This was the irrational thinking that was going through my mind as I was standing there over the fish trying to decide whether or not to pick it up. Sorry to disappoint myself and everyone else, but I didn't pick it up. My rational was that the tide was coming up and I had dug a little trench for the water to come in faster, plus there was a fisherman that was walking along the beach right behind me staring at this crazy white girl staring at something on the beach. Hopefully he took pity on the fish and threw him back, he was too little to eat. Saying all of this I feel like a horrible person. I couldn't get over myself enough to throw the little struggling fish back in to the ocean. :-( I'm still dealing with the guilt.


I ended up talking to one of my camp happy day mothers online tonight who gave me some much needed encouragement and reminded me of a story that she had given me at the end of camp, thanking us for her son's experience there.

The Starfish Story
Original Story by: Loren Eisley

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed
a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.
Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?”
The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean.
The surf is up and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”
“Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!”
After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish,
and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…”
I made a difference for that one.”

This made me feel horrible about the fish, but actually helped me with my frustrations down here. I have so much respect for teachers. They have one of the most difficult jobs on earth and almost never actually getting to see the effects of their efforts. It is so nice to hear every once and a while that you have actually made a difference in just one child's life. I wrote out the story and am going to post it on my wall. I think I just figured out how I am going to decorate my barren apartment. ;-)

Monday, October 5, 2009

The Sardine Parade

I think I might be in Love with Trujillo and Huanchaco. It is definitely more of my kind of city. Trujillo has the real grocery store, which is definitely equivalent to our walmart. I never knew how much walmart or something like it was such blessing for people that are in a different counrty where they don't speak much of that language. You just line up and bam you have food. No haggling, no having to ask how much things are, no guessing what things are. Definitely the easy way out. My goal is still being able to go down to the market and buy everything I want or need without any problems or a translator. We went down to Trujillo for more than just a walmart run, the Festival Internacional de la Primavera. The International Spring Festival, which is put on by the Peruvian lions clubs. Four hours of Indian tribal/ jungle dancers, Marching bands, American battion twirlers, and a few dozen beauty queens from all over.. Two girls from the Estados Unidos (United States) even made it into the parade. We all kind of agreed that our representation was a bit embarrassing. Cowgirls?? Really??

About a half an hour into the parade we were starting to get squished into our spots that we had firmly planted ourselves in. We were like a bunch of sardines being squished into a can the about three times smaller than what it should have been. Little kids kept squishing between us making their way up front, and moms were standing basically on top of us pushing their kids through to the chair section of the audience. You could pay a couple soles in order to sit in the three rows of chairs they had lined up on the side walk. I now understand why you pay the 3 soles for a chair. If you don't you are squished up next to about 7 strangers all trying to see around you, which was a little nerve-wracking for me because I actually brought out the big camera this time. Parades= amazing pictures. There is just so much life and vibrant colors that it is pretty hard to leave without some decent pictures.

Speaking of amazing sights, the sunset in Huarnchaco took my breath away. Huarnchaco is the little beach town just near Trujillo. Lots of tourists, surfers, and gorgeous views in Huarnchaco. I even bought my first souvenir from Peru. My very own hammock. Hopefully, I will be getting this set up in my apartment so that I can try sleeping on it instead of my so called bed. I think Peruvian beds were just not made for us large American people.

I could definitely see myself living in this surfing village that was a 5-10 minute ride to the big city. I even made some friends while I was down there. Dan a photographer from Canada that was on a 2 month vacation with his girlfriend. He complimented me on my lens and even gave me some pointers. :-) Right after Dan ventured off to meet his girlfriend I was approached my two girls from Trujillo asking if they could see the pictures that I was taking. After lots of oos and ahhs they explained that they were in school studying English and had come to Huarnchaco to meet and talk with tourists. Best way to learn a foreign language is actually speaking with native speakers. I love their enthusiasm for learning. Breaking through their insecurities and talking with complete strangers. :-) Janette, 29 was very good at English, almost understanding everything I was saying to her, but needed to improve her confidence. Stephanie, 20 was her moral support, being the one to actually approached me. Janette was learning English to hopefully work with international businesses. She was so precious, not just because she is Peruvian and therefore cute and petite, but because she was still really shy around men. She said she was too shy to go up to the men that looked like they might speak English so I was the first person they had talked to.

I definitely Love Huarnchaco and plan on going back soon. Did I mention that dinner was fabulous? It was the first time I have had fish down here. I really need to get myself to the market and get some of this fish, being that I live on the coast. Oo I'm also kind of enamored with plantain chips. They like dried banana chips but are salty and delicious. :-)

Saturday, October 3, 2009

I just got my hair cut by a drag queen :-)


Well, he was more just really camp, but his girlfriend definitely could have been a drag queen. She was out selling food on the street and he had a little hair boutique. This entire process was just a little too fast for me. One minute I was at dinner telling Jorge that I needed my hair cut and the next I was sitting in a tiny little hair salon with a very gay man cutting half of my hair off. It's really hard to tell him not too much when we don't speak each others language. He actually did understand a little English and we always have Jorge to translate, but my eyes were still the size of watermelons when I saw the amount of hair he was cutting off. I was completely nervosa!! Didn't really have time to prepare myself for such a random haircut. Why is hair so important to people?? It's just hair, right?

Anyways it was a fun, random experience, and it looks pretty good. His girlfriend that kept coming in staring at us apparently saying ooo you are so lucky to have American's in here. I had actually seen the couple before just from walking around downtown but apparently Jorge had gotten his hair cut by him before and they were friends, so I thought I would give it a try. My hair down here has been kind of an ordeal. It's been tortured by the saltwater showers and keeps falling out. Hopefully this will be a lot more managable. I guess I will have to wait to grow my hippy hair back out some other time.

Confetti In My Hair.

Last night, the 4 of us, Jan, Cherry, Jorge, and I went to Gabriel's 4th birthday party. This is one of the cutest kids that I have seen down here this far. He just has this amazing smile that should be on front of a kids magazine. Lordes, Gabriel's mom, is Jorge's neighbor who has invited us into her heart as her dear friends. She has just gotten out of a rough marriage and definitely needed the support of some new friends. Cherry has taken her under her wing and has already showing her extreme compassion and generosity.

It must be extremely hard down here to move on after splitting up with your husband down here. Even from my brief time in the country already I have noticed the inequalities between men and women. Riding up the mountain last weekend, Auden was telling me about the old mountain ladies who were carrying their weight on their backs while there men were probably back home getting drunk... He said it kind of jokingly, but I'm pretty sure there was a lot of truth there. Kevin and I also noticed while we were up there that there was an extreme lack of little girls running around the city compared to the little boys. Where they not Man enough to run around the city alone, or were they expected to stay in the house and do chores with their mothers? I know my feminist thoughts are probably overactive in this situation, but there I definitely wouldn't be okay living in such a conservative society. There was even a wife beater joke that placed US women in a lot better situation then Peruvian women.
There were 3 women, An American woman, a Canadian woman, and a Peruvian woman who were all telling their stories of how they told their husband they were becoming a feminist. The US and Canadian women both told their husbands that they weren't cooking and cleaning anymore. After the first and second days the women still didn't see any change in their husbands, but after the third day their husbands started doing the cooking and the cleaning. The peruvian woman told her husband the same thing, that she wasn't going to cook and clean any more. After the first and second days the Peruvian woman couldn't see any thing either, but on the 3rd day she could finally open her eye's enough to see again.

Now I really hate wife beater jokes, but this one seemed to strike something in me. Is it so bad here that they think America is so much better, because let me tell you, America is not all that different. I already have friends that have been beaten by their husbands.

Sorry for that tangent.. this was supposed to be a happy blog. A real Peruvian birthday party :-) This was just like how I imagined a Latin American birthday party. Lots of people, lots of food, REALLLLLLY loud music, and definitely a pinata. There was even a little girl who was overly dressed in a fancy green party dress. When I wasn't getting hand fed food my the hostesses, I was being pulled into the middle of the room to dance, which I happily obliged. I keep telling people that I want to go dancing. I want to find one of those clubs from Dirty Dancing Havana Nights, for those of you who were dorky enough to go see that movie. :-)I loved the music at the party, it was just ridiculously loud. It's like they make it so loud that you have no choice but to dance. There is no way to have an actual conversation.

When we weren't dancing, like I said we were being forced food. First jello, then some other goop that kind of reminded me of chichimarado jello, but it was called something else. Chichimarado is a sweet dark corn that they make into juice and other interesting things. Then the plate of cookies and candies were brought around as well as an individual bag of popcorn. All very good might I add. After we sang to Gabriel he blew out his number 4 candle 4 times and they shoved his face into the cake so he could take the first bite. It was all very cute. I'm just sad I had left my memory card at home so I was working with the 7 pictures I could take with my internal memory. Lordes also made some of the best chicken that I have had down here. It tasted just like our game day hot wings. :-) The best part of the night was watching the kids beat the pinata with a huge blown up hammer. Lordes stood on a stool while the kids attacked it. It could have been extremely dramatic seeing as the two cakes were about a foot behind her, making a fall detrimental to the evening. Thankfully, that didn't happen though.

What came out of this pinata was about a pound of confetti, some candy and a whole bunch of straw whistles, which the kids played with for the rest of the night. After our huge confetti fight we brushed our selves off, said good bye to the family, and received a piece of cake on the way out. I don't know why, but cake is usually a parting gift. Apparently it is custom to leave shortly after the cake is cut. Overall a great night.. especially because I got a little Latino dancing in and wasn't completely laughed at for trying.