To Live Simply

First off, an interesting note – after multiple firm rejections, embellished by my glorious hacking, not even the news that I have bronchitis deters Peruvian men from asking me to go home with them at various clubs. I hear “I have explosive diahrrea” has an incredibly high success rate.  As I am not familiar with the Spanish term for explosive, I prefer the simple “My God, back off.”

Wednesday, 4 30 a.m. Oscar walks me home. After five solid hours of salsa-dancing, I can barely walk down the desolate streets of Urubamba, whose silence is broken only for the distant sound of dog fights.  Oscar is not only the best big host brother a girl could ask for, he is also hands down the best salsa-dancer in Urubamba. Good night.

Arm in arm, he tells me about when his uncle assumed his position as mayor of Urubamba, he built a park in Oscars neighborhood. Not only that, he decided to pave all the roads in that part of down, the precious unpaved roads upon which Miguel and Oscar rigorously played marbles.

“We never forgave him. Even to this day I am angry. We used to love to play with our friends, all day long… then, no more.”

A moments pause, then, “You know, I would love to visit the US, but I dont think I ever will.”

This catches me off guard. Oscars English is near perfect, his slang even up to par. He has visited the UK twice and has a personality that would render him irresistible in most American circles. I sense some sadness in his voice.

“Why?” I ask, “What are you afraid of?”

He throws his hands up – “¡Look around! We are such simple people here. There, things are not so simple. In Britain, sometimes things seemed so pretentious. I don{t know if I could keep up in America. In the US, life is not so simple.”

A meager “true” is all I can muster. Were I not so exhausted, I might cry.

No, things are not so simple. I do not want to leave the simplicity of Peru. I cant help thinking I am returning to something going terribly fast in the wrong direction.

On a less depressing note, I decided to take a trip with the women of Kanchay Wasi to some hot baths in Lares.  Of course Katy came with.  The trip was absolutely fabulously fantastic, besides the 40 degree weather, rain, and occaisional snow. I love my ladies so much and will miss their vivacity indescribably.

Had cuy for lunch finally today to celebrate my upcoming departure, and am going out again tonight to celebrate my own and others. Much love to all. Im sure Ill be seeing  some of you soon.

My Life in Lists

Same Rachael, new format.

5 things I have gotten used to eating unrefrigerated in Peru

1. Milk
2. Yogurt
3. Cheese
4. Eggs
5. Butter

10 things I will miss the most about Peru

1. My host family
2. My service work
3. Speaking Spanish
4. Three freshly cooked Peruvian meals a day
5. Salsa Dancing
6. The scenery
7. Pisco Sours
8. PANADERIAS!
9. Stray dogs, strangely enough
10. Walking everywhere

My five most commonly used phrases whilst in Peru

1. ¿Cómo?
2. Mi estómago me duele.
3. Está bien. Todo está bien.
4. Salud! (Toast)
5. ¿Dondé está?

6 reasons I want to return to the states

1. To see family and friends
2. HOT WATER!
3. Being able to understand everything, usually.
4. Chick-fil-a, sushi, Starbucks
5. My bed.
6. Returning to Rice!!! Yeah Hannah, Will Rice, and McMurtry rooms!

Anyways, love to all. I officially have a week left and am indescribably sad about it. My host family has offered to let me come back any time I desire… hope I can in the future. Arequipa and Colca Canyon rocked. Josh, I have some Condor feathers for you!

Arequipa, Arequpa – La Ciudad Blanca!

Hello from beautiful, sophisticated Arequipa, all!

I´m here having a fabulous time with Julie and Lindsay. We took an all night bus from Cusco, arrived here at 5:30 am drained but excited… we walked around looking for a place to grab bbreakfast but the only thing open at the time was a casino in the plaza. Go figure. We finally found a breakfast place opening its doors around 7, after which we toured the Monastaria Santa Catalina with a fabulous tour guide, went to the Catedral in the Plaza, booked a two-day tour of Colca Canyon for tomorrow, went to the museum to see the Incan sacrificial mummy, Juanita, toured the Casa de Moral, drank coffee and went to a bookstore. Needless to say, we are exhausted.

I´m pretty excited… I bought Salinger´s Nine Stories in Spanish, Murakami´s After the Quake in English of course, and some others. Overall the city has a very sophisticated, stately feel and I love the architecture and buildings of silla. Have to wake up at 6 30 tomorrow for breakfast on the roof at 7, then off to the canyon at 8:30 to see condors and whatnot. Excited.

On a sad note, because the Peruvian government has shut down schools early for vacation due to the swine flu, I can no longer work with the kids at Frida´s place… it kind of sucks, as I just have one week left. However, I am going to replace that time with work on public health campaigns and water filter installation… I´m excited to experience some other aspects of service in Peru! Flexibility, flexibility, flexibility.

Love you all, but am not prepared to come home. I´m going to make the most of my last days here in magical Peru, you can count on it!

Hola from Ollanta

Terracing

Getting tired of the Urabamba scene, I took a last minute trip to Ollantaytambo today, lovingly referred to by the locals as ¨Ollanta¨.  If any of you ever come to Ollanta, YOU MUST STAY AT THE HOSTAL SAUCE. Sounds like the dumbest name ever, but ¨sauce¨is a Spanish reference to the weeping willow tree outside the establishment. Seriously, I paid $60 for a gorgeous room and the most comfortable bed I have slept on in a while, a private bathroom with incredibly hot water, a lounge with a fireplace, games, books, and an adorable dog, not to mention a free breakfast and complimentary espresso. HEAVEN. 

Last night I wandered around the town, visited a fair-trade non-profit store in which all profits go toward traditional Quechua women, in order to help maintain and preserve their way of life and unique weavings. I bought a bolsa for my self and talked to the volunteer there about their NGO, in hopes of getting some ideas for expanding Kanchay Wasi´s products. It was really a cool store.  Each item has a number and tells you the weaver´s name, whose profile you can look up on their website. After that I ate at the delicious (albeit quite gringo) Heart´s cafe, where all of the money goes to children´s development projects in local communities, including Huaran. Really delicious and super cozy.

Sometimes I happen to wake up early enough to angrily set my alarm clock for a later hour.  This morning I awoke to the sound of the river flowing outside my window, and rose to take pictures of the sun ascending above the mountains.  After my amazing breakfast, I hiked the Ollanta ruins at 7.  I read that on Sundays things get crowded around 11, so in order to get the most serene, intimate experience with the history and landscape, you have to rise early. Boy was it worth it. 

I sat on top of a wall and journaled for a while… the mountains comforted, the clouds veiled.  It sprinkled from time to time, surprisingly, and I was grateful the oh so fuerte sun was not out to burn my precious face.

Met a darling couple from Australia, which decisively solidified my favorite part about traveling: meeting people. Seriously. Whether it be the goofy group of Canadians I met on the train, the snobby French men who I finally got to smile, or the lonesome American widow looking for some postcards, I find every encounter magical. We all travel for reasons… what brings you to Peru? Each inspiration is different, each beautiful. I want to hear them all.

Welp, the history and ethnography musuem should be opening soon so I think I´m off to explore that gem.  Back to Urabamba tonight. Love to all.

Don´t judge, there was no one there to take a picture for me.

Paros 101

How to have fun during a paro: rent a mountain bike and bike to Calca.

How not to have fun during a paro:  get scammed out of 150 soles while renting a mountain bike to bike to Calca.

Let’s not talk about it, shall?

Anyways, what a great day at work. I love the feeling after a great day at work.  The women at Kanchay Wasi in Calca are fantastically enthusiastic, personable, and patient. Not to mention, I completely love Katy, the new arrival that is working on my project. She is full of great ideas for introspective projects. For example, Tuesday we did self-portraits with the women (mixed medium)… it’s amazing how much they showed us about themselves without saying a thing. 

They also took us to the hotel where they sell their knitted products (which are completely fabulous) in hopes we can come up with a better publicity campaign. We are brainstorming ways to increase the circulation and sales of their products at the Green House hotel, The Muse, and at the ProPeru office.  Their products are truly amazing, carefully hand-crafted, and totally different than the typical touristy paraphanalia found in most markets. And I think gringos will appreciate the benefit of buying products to support the financial growth of women in need. Hollah.

Today we baked a carrot cake for the women in one of the community ovens… most people here don’t have ovens so if you have something to cook, you take it down the street to a giant clay oven where a nice man will cook it for you.  The women completely devoured it and all copied down the recipe. After I taught them how to make flores de papel like they use for fiestas in Mexico and told them a little about the culture of Mexico.  Then we practiced our English, per usual, especially the vocab for buying and selling.

 

All and all a good day. I realize there is one thing I am seriously missing right now… music. I desperately wish I would have brought my iPod…a CD… SOMETHING. I NEED MY MUSIC. Other than that, I do not want to return. Of course, I miss you all too. But you probably already knew that.

Rach

Descending and Returning

Serenity.

Come on kids, mommy needs a break. Bring me a gin and tonic.

Back from Machu Picchu, fairly lacking in words to describe the experience. Stayed in a hostal in Aguas Calientes (with our own bathroom!) where the river was right outside and I awoke each morning to its rushing waters. We awoke at 4 in the morn to make it to the bus station before 5:30, when the first bus leaves for Machu Picchu.  We desperately wanted to climb Wayna Picchu, and only 400 climbers a day are permitted on the hike. I was number 77 .

On the train ride to Ollanta, I experience a bit of ambivalence toward my trip.  Not that I didn´t want to experience the beauty, antiquity, and sophistication that is Machu Picchu, but I had been reading a lot about the damage that has been done to the site by tourists.  UNESCO and other organizations have multiple times threatened to place MP on the endangered heritage sites list, due to the lack of regulation and restoration done by the Peruvian government.  Sure I wanted to see it, but I cringed at the thought of contributing to the degredation of a historical jewel. 

Even upon arrival, despite signs forbidding food (to prevent littering) people ate almost everywhere, some even throwing wrappers on the ground – obviously there are no trashcans as there is not supposed to be disposable products.  Makes me sad. The tourists are mostly American, followed by French, probably followed by Peruvian. I find the idea of tourism fascinating – obviously it is an indespensible sector of the Peruvian economy, precisely due to the rich heritage of places like Machu Picchu.  Yet the word ¨tourism¨has a decisively negative connotation. ¨Tourist traps¨or ¨tourist towns¨stink of inauthenticity, overpriced goods and food, and a bunch of gringos gripping their guidebooks like Catholics in the Inquisition. Yet isn´t it up to the tourism industry to direct people toward authentic culture, toward a legitimate experience of another culture?  How can the tourism industry continue to prosper yet maintain its integrity by giving tourists an accurate glimpse of another world, instead of offering the luxury amenities of home in a different setting?

Well, of course I still went. Wayna Picchu was a rough hike (thank you Ken) but totally worth it. We just sat at the very peak of the top and enjoyed the serenity of silence and the company of mountains.  Llamas frolicked about the ruins, completely oblivious to the tourists scrambling to capture photos of their seemingly mundane existences.   I´m not going to lie, I stalked a few llamas. You would too.

Didn´t have work today because it is ¨teacher´s day off¨and the school I work at is closed.  Rumor has it, paros will prevent my work Friday again. It is absolutely killing me how little I have gotten to work due to holidays, paros, and Inti Raymi. I spent three hours today preparing a lesson, only to get a phone call that I didn´t need to work. Frrrrrustrating.

 

Besides Machu, I went to Cusco Saturday night to celebrate the last days of some lovely friends of mine (MISS YOU!) and returned early Sunday home to a bar-b-que with the extended family in honor of Oscar´s recent graduation from university. We just made a fire outside and cooked steak on an open flame grill whilst sipping on beer and making fun of how white I am an how little el Chocoton can drink. Completely lovely afternoon.

 

I´m going to try to upload some photos, although I might be here for a week in attempts to do so. PS Ken if you´re reading this, Quinoa is officially my new favorite grain. I order it every chance I get.

Love  Rach

Off to Machu Picchu!

Hey all,
I don´t have much time to write, so no promises of stellar literary developments in this post. I am off to Machu Picchu in an hour… taking a bus to Oyantalltambo, then train to Machu Picchu, where I´m staying a hostel. Have to wake up at like 4 am or something absurd tomorrow because I want to hike Wayna Picchu. They limit the number of people that can go a day (counterintuitively, this is a very good thing) in order to preserve the ruins. I believe Machu Picchu has several times been place or threatened with placement on the World Heritage Endangered Sites list. So sad.

So one entertaining observation for you all to ruiminate on whilst I am in one of the most glorious places on earth: in Peru, it is common, if not expected, to call people nicknames based on the way they look. These would probably be considered highly offensive the States, but are meant in an affectionate manner (or so I hear) in this lovely land of the Incans. For example, I can´t go anywhere with some of the other volunteers here – Asian – without hearing ¨CHINITA! CHINITA!¨being yelled in the streets. Why do I discuss this? I have officially been called ¨gordita¨about three or four times now, by random people in the street. Read: little fat girl. Seriously.

Obviously disgruntled, I relayed the incident to my host brother, who laughed it off saying everyone calls girls that. Other volunteers chimed in saying their host fathers call their host moms ¨gorda¨affectionately all the time. Boys call their girlfriends that. Girls call their boyfriends flaco. Many people refer to black individuals as ¨chocoton¨.

You are right if you assume it is very difficult to be called publically gordita, coming from a country where the f-word (fat) could get you a slap in the face. As an anthropologically-trained, or simply as generally culturally sensitive person, this was one cultural difference I did not forsee, nor is easy for me to adapt to. These moments have been very surreal and so counter to my upbringing – men hitting on me in the street by catcalling me fat? Fascinating right? Anywho, I´m working on reconciling my unacceptance of my body with my desire to wholly accept cultural difference. Wish me luck.

Love you all! If these computers weren´t so darned slow, I would upload more pictures. Thinking of you on the mountain -

Rach

So Alive.

For the last couple of days, I have felt indescribably alive. Comprised of not much doing, but infinite being, my hours are spent doodling lazily in the park while Miguel strums Spanish songs on his guitar, watching the guys play futbol in the park, sipping tea on my front steps admiring the mountains, or strolling around the plaza.

In contrast, my nights have never been livlier. From my experience in the discotecas and bars, sometimes the party doesn´t even get started until after midnight. Going home at 2:30 is early. Around 5 you might be able to find a legitimate excuse to retire. It might be due to infamous ¨Peruvian Time,¨ a perpetually lagging sense of scheduling which starkly contradicts my accustomed American ways. I´ve had a bit of a hard time adjusting to the smoking inside – indeed it was a bit jarring that it was even allowed – let alone the sheer amount of smoke inside many establishments.

Other than that, I much prefer the dancing here than what I have experienced in the states – Salsa, Mambo, or seemingly nameless combinations of steps that prove far more elegant, natural, joyful and romantic than the usual grind (pun intended) in the US nightclub circuit.

My Spanish is coming along…but not quick enough for me. I have finally reached the point where I can´t stand seeming unintelligent anymore on account of my lack of language skills.  Don´t get me wrong - I can communicate, even converse… yet if you know me, you know I am a woman of words.  Infatuated by their flexibility, depths, and colors, I most comfortably speak in a somewhat un-pedestrian manner. So sticking to  a limited vocabulary, grammatical structure, and tense is killing me. But as my host brother says (Oscar, not Miguel) – that´s how you learn.

 

I am learning a lot.

Notes from a Gringa

Hey all,

Sorry I haven’t updated in a while, but a lot has been going on! I went to Cusco for the grandiose Incan Festival of the Sun, Inti Raymi, have been working and studying Spanish, and overall just enjoying my new surroundings.

After six days, I have finally become wicked sick.  If there is one thing you have to get used to working at ProPeru, it is most definitely talking about your bowel movements. One girl here has giardia, two typhoid, one a parasite, and practically all volunteers have battled a spell of TD. Welcome to Peru.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the culture shock settles in about now.  Upon arrival, I relished in the new dishes, exotic combinations, even the ambiguous meats.  Now I view every plato begrudgingly as a possible intestinal time bomb. I suppose resentment would best describe my setiment at the moment, although I realize it is completely unfounded. Different cultures, different foods, different stomachs.

The doctor gave me a shot and about 5 different medicines, so I am feeling much better now.  Hopefully this trend will continue. I’m sick of bananas and rice.

Work has been great. On Monday I went to Frida’s place to work with the kids. Of course, a game of futbol commenced in which I got my butt undeniably kicked. I love South American’s obsession with soccer. It puts all of us Americans to shame.

Tuesday I traveled to Huaran to work with the abused and neglected women at Kanchay Wasi. We taught them some English which, despite its ridiculous pronunciation, they are eager to learn. We also cooked for them after they got out of a private group therapy session with a psychologist that had traveled there from Cusco.  I would have been interested to sit in, but respect their desire for privacy.

A native Liman I met in a bar last week informed me of a popular phrase in Peru:

Mas te pego, mas te amo.

I don’t know how to do accents on this computer, but read: “The more I beat you, the more I love you.” Seriously. Sadly, this addage has been confirmed by both my host brother and my Spanish teacher. I wonder how widely known this phrase is in Peru, and more importantly, how widely practiced. I fear if accepted by the women (who often have no financial options but to suffer through this “love”), the power of this saying will result in severe internalized oppression.  This makes our job at Kanchay Wasi quite difficult – how can we help the women who accept abuse as love, because they feel they have no other options? How do we empower them to seek help?

My work here differs greatly from that of the Houston Area Women’s Center (HAWC). It is not neccesarily my place to counsel these women, to inform them of their rights, options for divorce, etc. I am there to give them three hours of my  undivided attention, to help them develop personally, emotionally, and intellectually through projects like yoga, music, and learning English.  Right now, the only program at Kanchay Wasi started to inspire economic independence is the selling of the women’s weavings, which they work on at the Center each meeting. From what I understand, this program has not been entirely successful, so I hope to strengthen the system by looking into microfinance loans, a more consistent English curriculum, and a wider scope of vendors. We’ll see.

Alright, so here are the most poignant cultural difference I have observed thus far in Peru:

• While some people do have cellphones, many do not.  Fortunately, there are lovely ladies who linger around town wearing neon green vests, who offer cell phone use to passersby. It’s actually kind of awesome. It’s like a mobile, super friendly payphone.
• Yeah, um, you can’t put toilet paper in the toilet. EVER. Don’t do it. There’s always a trashcan by the toilet for that. It will mess up the plumbing system.
• Getting around Urabamba is an extre me sport. There is no sense of “right-of-way,” and mototaxis simply honk to alert you of this. I have gruesome mages of being run over by a mototaxi…even though they probably only weigh 100 or so pounds.
• A neat trick: if you ever feel threatened by a street dog, however formidable a creature, bend down and pretend to pick up a rock.  They know what this means, and it’s not good. They’ll scram ASAP.
• Personal space? Forget it. Seriously. Forget it. Especially in the combis I take to work. Think mid-sized church van packed with 30 people. Yeah.
• Haggling is expected. I am not that great at this yet… unfortunate for gringos, whom they try to overcharge anyway.
• They shut off the water at certain times of the day for conservation reasons.  In fact, the immenent paros (strikes) in Cusco were over government privitization of water. Boooo.

Anyways, I have work today at 3, then I’m going out tonight. Might head to the jungle for the weekend. Who knows.

I officially love my sleep pattern here. Bed at 11, up at 7. Such a change from bed at 3, up at 8. Beautiful.

Love to all – Raquel.

In love.

Well the internet here is wicked slow and there´s someone waiting for the computer, so I promise no juicy details at the moment. But, I am safe in charming Urabamba, despite a botched flight and missing bags. I am utterly in love with this place and the beautifully proud Peruvian people I have encountered.

My host family is completely charming and handle my gimp Spanish quite well.  I have the most charming little room filled with painting done by my host brother.  I have two host brothers in fact, 20 and 24. Went out dancing with one last night. God I love South Americans. They know how to dance.

Went on a group tour of the ruins at Pisac today, followed by a trip to the artisan market nearby.  It was not a bad hike at all… I can hardly wrap my mind around the antiquity of it all.  Bought lots of fun things in the market, talked to lots of lovely talented indigenous individuals. Today was the winter solstace… muy importante for the people around here. Apparently if I had waken up at 5:30 to see the sun rise, I could have traveled to a sacred temple to where the rays would have perfectly aligned to illuminate some sacred sign.  Sounds cool, but I think I finally got back to my host house around 2. Jetlagged and hungover, the only way to go in Peru.

Tomorrow is my first day of service and of Spanish lessons. I am anxious to finally get my feet wet in the service aspect of this trip – the most important part.

And Peter, I was going to mention Sartre´s Being and Nothingness but I didn´t want to sound too pretentious . Miss you.

Alright, Im exhausted. This place is so indescribably beautiful, I feel as though it is a travesty to attempt to describe it right now. Ill work on a description. Much love to all. Sorry for punctuation – weird Spanish keyboard.

Rach