27months2bags

Growing up, mojo was always present in my home. Luck, juju, spirits, good vibes, etc, it was all summed up by mojo, and whether my dad’s mojo dances were extremely influential or if it was some other force, here I am at 24 believing in mojo. To go further, I really like collecting little knick-knacky creatures and feel that they each have their own mojo vibes that they send out my way. I may be a kook, but I love my little trinkets. Especially here in Peru, because most of them are gifts sent from the far off states, so I know that they were picked out especially for me, and like to think they were sent to look over me in a way.

( a little birdy came to visit my bird clip dudes one morning)

So needless to say, I have a bunch of little guys placed about my room, all eking out their mojo presence, and I cherish them. Many times the little ones have asked me about my little bird and dala horse adornments, and I explain this to them, but they don’t quite get it. They like things such as my light-up keychain cow, which I like ‘cause my momma bought it for me right before coming here and you know, by abstraction, it reminds me of home. The kids love it because a) cows b)flashing lights and sounds. With this in mind, when I found, by happenstance, three little light-up keychain cows in a Radioshack in Arequipa, I had to buy them so that the kidlets and I could be matching. I came back from my vacation excited to give away these little thoughtful gifts with dreams of the niños graciously dancing around with their toys spinning in my head. When I did present the little gifts they were squealing and trying as hard as they could to tear the packaging off. My dreams were about to become real and we would be connected through this little trinket. They would forever have a small matching toy to remember me by, and every time my cow sounded or lit up I would think of them. And then reality set in. Mijael ran off into the animal pen and lost his immediately, Alyson threw hers on the ground and asked if she could braid my hair. Jhoan lasted the longest, he pressed the button so many times that by the next morning when he came to my window to wake me up with it at 5:30 it ceased to work. I rose from my bed, blessed myself for a valiant effort of gift-giving, and told Jhoan to leave me alone for heavens sake it was 5:30.

 

Jump to this week. Gifts, cherished objects, and memories have been on my mind a lot lately. Have you ever tried to give away an object that was super-special to you and the recipient clearly didn’t have the same regard for it? I made a huge decision a couple of weeks ago today, and I’ll be resigning from the Peace Corps, so after a year and a half of building up stashes of stuff (like the cheese grater for cheese I never eat!) I need to think about where I’ll be sending it all off to. So many of the items that have been sent to me through care packages and purchased as little souvenirs, rocks that I’ve found on my hikes and items accumulated from other volunteers… it all has to go. And I want the good mojo vibes to spread. I want those who receive these items next to not just disregard them and throw them out. I’m no hoarder, but I appreciate the little things that remind me of my loved ones, my purpose, and my luck in life. Trust me. There’s a LOT of mojo in that Muquiyauyo room of mine.

Here’s some snapshots of the last few weeks and the great adventures that have taken place along the way—

 

 

–A quick side. If you haven’t talked to my family/friends in the know, I’m leaving the Peace Corps completely of my own accord. I found out recently that I was accepted to a one year post-grad certificate program for Geographic Information Sciences at UW-Madison, and I decided to jump on the opportunity and return to Wisconsin. I think most of my “push” toward going back to the states was a lack of practical experience and feeling undervalued in regard to my professional goals. So here’s to a new chapter!

To say things quickly—keeping up a blog becomes more cumbersome as the time goes by here in Peru—the more time I spend here the more I get lost in my thoughts about the experience. I never intended for this site to be full of lengthy chapters recounting arbitrary details about my life. Readers can assume some of those things. Not all, of course, but I don’t want subscribers yawning each time they get a notification that I posted something new. So here are a few more juicy tidbits of how things have been going since my last post…

 

Last time I updated I was on my way back to the US of A to “kick back and relax” during the holiday season. Not so much. I appreciate the hospitality of all while I was back for my visit. I would like to apologize if my adopted customs and ideas of politeness came across as rude (overstaying visits, being invited to events, etc.) In a way I’m glad that I’ve taken on some of the social notions from my site but I can see how they may not have translated well. I had a great time being back; many a tear was shed in the happiest of ways.

 

So now I have the heavy task of describing my experiences since being back, and may I preface this by saying that it has been (unsurprisingly) a whirlwind of events.

 

I stayed in the States through my birthday because why not? Which meant that I returned to Peru in the midst of festival season and the off-season for schools. I would say summer but because we’re in the mountains some folks like to say that the “rainy season” is winter, opposite from the costal area. I am pretty adamant about disagreeing. In my mind summer and winter are based on the position of the earth as compared to the sun, and the Southern Hemisphere is in its summer position right now. With a lack of work (I taught summer school classes for the four weeks that they lasted, 5 hours per week) and a myriad of festivals, my social life blossomed.

 

Though none of my work for the time being has anything to do with the primary goal of Peace Corps (give technical assistance to the people of your site to enable them to sustainably develop) much of it has been cultural exchange, goals two and three. Basically two-thirds of my work is representing the United States in a positive way to my host country, and vice-versa. To complete this I’ve been participating in all of the fiestas—with full costume, learning the dances and traditions—and teaching English/US culture to a family that lives nearby. Photos included below. This family invited me to a party for the Tunantada, a tradition in the area, and though I didn’t know what to expect I ended up being a bit shocked by one of the attendees.

 

For those who know me, I’m a pretty sociable person. I like to talk. Nature or nurture, who knows? But I’m hardly ever put off by informal conversation. At this party, however, I was. It was my first big social gathering since being back in site and a lady had come who was currently living in Long Island, New York. She had apparently been living there for 19 years and came back each year for this festival. The conversation that followed our meeting stunned me, as I was completely unprepared for the criticisms that she readily offered about both countries. As a volunteer I’ve been trained to be respectful toward customs of my host community as well as respectfully representing the United States. First she attempted to translate everything that was being said at the party into English, assuming I spoke practically no Spanish. She then started bad-talking Peru and the US, saying that Peruvians were all drunkards and stupid, saying that people from the States were greedy and rude. I was extremely offended by her comments about both of the countries, and it made me re-evaluate my position.

 

Though I came to Peru on the basis that I would be promoting soil conservation and environmental knowledge my real work goes back to the roots of Peace Corps, and why it was established. To promote a more positive vision of what the United States is as a global influence. Since the encounter with Long Islander I’ve been focusing on having deeper conversations with the people I interact with daily, and though my environmental perspectives are on hold for the moment, I’ve felt more fulfilled with my work since being back. So, as always, there are plusses and minuses to service, but isn’t that how it is everywhere?

 

 

Well, its been a great long while since I published anything and trust me, my heart pangs each time I remember that an update is in order. I feel guilty keeping you all in front of your computers, day after day, refreshing wordpress, anxiously waiting for a new article to pop up. The last couple of months have sent me back to Cusco, Lima, the high jungle of my region, and back around to site, leaving me with little time to sit down and focus on a descriptive yet focused post for the site.

Here’s a quick lowdown of what happened…

• Two days in Velille, Cusco (a little town about 7 hours out of the main city) to plant some hundreds of trees with a great group of kids, assisted by the organization Walking Tree Peru.

• “Midservice” aka meetings, medical check-ups, and most of all MAC. MAC standing for Manejo Ambiental Comunitario, my program. Great to catch up with my fellow volunteers from around the country and celebrate having been here for 1 year!

• Thanksgiving, Peru edition. The smorgasbord to end all smorgasbords. With a little whiffle ball added into the mix.
• School’s out for summer.

• The oldest of the small kids in my host family, Johan, graduated kindergarten. Pretty cute stuff

• Preparations for my travels back to the states! Hopefully I’ll see a good amount of friends and family over the holidays. My heart is pounding with excitement!

With that, Happy Holidays and I wish everybody a wonderful New Year! Here’s to an incredible and unforgettable 2015.

Greetings, readers.

This blog edition is brought to you by What Not to do in High School English Class. I’ll begin with a great hook, followed by some rambling paragraphs which include absolutely no claim, evidence, warrant structure, and then conclude abruptly without a summary of my main point (basically because there is none).

In the Oxford American Writers Thesaurus (available on what was previously my father’s Macbook) the first seven synonyms for the verb “to miss” include something along the lines of “fail to blank”. The eighth synonym notes avoidance. The ninth finally mentions that feeling my heart sometimes feels for you all back home. And even then, the substitute phrases offered were a bit strong. Pine for. Yearn for. Ache for. Long for. As if I was trying to describe ice cream or a forbidden lover. I was more looking for the word to describe that feeling that isn’t quite nostalgia and isn’t quite missing. That feeling that encompasses being comfortable where you’re at, liking your situation, looking positively toward the future, yet still fondly treasuring the memories of your past. And sometimes craving food you ate in said past.

Things that contribute to this feeling mainly consist of access to Facebook and related social media sites. Specific triggers for this feeling of late include the visit of my parents/the dynamic Baker duo (Dave and Pam, I cannot express how HAPPY I was to have you here and share such a wonderful time with you) and our town anniversary (which reminded me of a small county fair at times). Seeing the incessant fall fever posts of apple orchards, pumpkin patches, football games, changing leaves, and Octoberfests, I realize that I “fail to associate with” the autumn culture. And I don’t quite pine for it. Or yearn for it. Or ache for it. But instead realize that it’s something I’ll be able to participate in again in the future. Since September I’ve attended a few events that I know I’m going to miss when I leave this place.

First, I’ll describe the event that was probably the coolest thing I’ve done here so far…. The Chaccu de Vicunas.

Who: About 10 volunteers from my region, and about 200 residents from the Ondores/surrounding districts in Junin.

What: A ceremony for Pachamama “mother earth”, and then a large-scale round up of wild camelids that live above 4000m. Each person takes a bit of a rope that extends across the mountain and proceeds to run for approximately an hour/hour and a half to corral vicunas into a pen for their annual shearing.

Where: “High Junin” as its known to the local volunteers. Ondores, Junin, Junin, Peru to be slightly more specific.

When: This year’s was held the 12^th of September.

Why: In the words of Fiddler on the Roof, “Traditiooooon! Tradition!” In other words, because the wool of the vicuna is worth about $500/kilo and domestic ownership is against the law, so this is a pretty BFD for the farming community each year. (All wool is exported and to be converted into soft, soft sweaters, blankets, and the like)

Second, I’ll describe what it was like to see the lovely couple that gave me life and raised me. As much as I would like to recount a tale where I heard my dad’s gum popping from across the airport or recognized the familiar shout of “my Emmer!!!” from a crowd of tired travelers, the reunion was not quite so dramatic. I saw my parents and walked toward their light, which was emanating from a luggage cart piled high at the end of the check-in lobby. I cried, Richard cried, Pam cried. We all cried. It was beautiful. I felt a strong parental embrace once again. We quickly hustled off to find the Bakers.

Who: You probably already know it. Myself, Pam Heller, Richard Heller, Pam Baker, Dave Baker.

What: They came to visit me. Here in South America. Only one other person on this planet can say that she did the same (Rayna Danger Christman). We continued on from this airport reunion to trek 4 days through the Peruvian cloud forests, sharing snacks, sickness, and support. It was a beautiful family adventure.

Where: Cusco, Peru. Lima, Peru. Peru in general! Certainly you readers don’t think I’ve left this beautiful country yet.

When: Late September- early October. I know I know, if they love me so much why would they leave again so soon?

Why: Because they love me. Of course. And because I love them. But I like to think it was more because they love me and I coerced them into walking through the countryside with me for a few days to indulge my interests. They win a trip of a lifetime and I win leftover protein bars and dried meat. I doubt you would find a better deal between volunteers and their relatives if you dug through the complete archives of ex-pats and study abroad students.

Third, I’ll describe what it has been like to celebrate the 129^th anniversary of a district within the region of Junin, Peru.

Who: Most every community member of the Municipality of Muquiyauyo, in some way, shape, or form.

What: This confused me the most. I arrived to the Municipality (where I get internet and work a few days each week) on Monday. They told me that in an hour there would be a “marathon” that I was to participate in as the representative of the district’s governing body. I said “okay”. Because what else was I to say? So I ran. Against about 15 moms from a social program called Programa Juntos. And placed 3^rd (knock to my confidence right there, let me tell you). Following this was a musical chairs competition. Then a water balloon throwing contest. Egg-in-spoon-in-mouth race was right after that. And my favorite, the eating contest, during which four 30ish year old ladies competed to finish a juice box, ham sandwich, and apple as fast as possible. Three days later we continued with agricultural contests. These included the fattest guinea pig (typical Peru), a tractor race, a tractor-maneuvering contest, a donkey-and-cart race as well as maneuvering contest, and a cow milking competition. It was a very exciting day. I was asked to not only be a judge, but also to be the lass who does the count down and waves a hanky to start off the races. Not to brag, but I was very successful at not adding a sexy edge to the banner brandishing.

Where: All over the district of Muquiyauyo, a quaint community nestled in the valley of the Montaro River. Mainly dependent on it’s carrot production the district boasts a high sierran climate with vistas of invasive eucalyptus, not one but two (!!) primary schools, and quick, direct access to the Carretera Central to Lima, offering a commute of 4-10 hours by bus depending on the season!

When: The week proceeding the 26^th of October (actual anniversary of the district) and possibly a few days after the designated anniversary date. Celebrations are contingent on who participates, but more so when the participants decide to stop participating.

Why: Because Muquiyauyo was founded as one of the first districts soon after the original capital of the country moved from 10 km away (Jauja) to Lima. Because Muquiyauyo has a strong history of patriotism and pride from their beginnings. Because Muquiyauyo is a lovely community following tradition in the Montaro Valley.

So there you have it, a short synopsis of the events that keep me busy week to week.

I’m copping out of a descriptive and comprehensive blog post that allows you a true glimpse into my life here. Each post seems to be just a blurred snapshot instead of a a detailed panorama because the nitty gritty matters elude me when I sit down to recall what has kept me busy since posting last. The truth is, the variety of interesting things that I see on a day-to-day basis have become the norm, and I no longer think of them as odd or annoying. I’ve become normalized to the culture, more or less, thus I don’t recognize the sociological gold-mines that I’m sitting on. Example—when my parents were here they were annoyed that there was construction at the beginning of the Inca Trail and we had to walk a couple extra miles. I realized during the debrief of the trek that I was the only one laughing. “Of course they didn’t coordinate and we have to start at 3:00 instead of 4:00 and walk a few extra miles,” I thought. Others were less amused.

In the same vein, a variety of things that I used to “miss” I’ve now forgotten about. Each day it’s harder and harder to add to my list of What I Miss from the States. After carpet, cheese, and cranberry juice I kind of blank. What else is there that exists? I forget. Some of the things that I see online I can conceptualize but just can’t connect with. Crossfit? Salary paid Jobs? Having weddings/babies? It just doesn’t click. So I’ll just be keeping on with all my new traditions and the things that I couldn’t imagine doing a year ago while preparing myself to play culture catch up during my winter visit.

Until then, best wishes for a fall full of traditions and treats of your own!

Things that contribute to this feeling mainly consist of access to Facebook and related social media sites. Specific triggers for this feeling of late include the visit of my parents/the dynamic Baker duo (Dave and Pam, I cannot express how HAPPY I was to have you here and share such a wonderful time with you) and our town anniversary (which reminded me of a small county fair at times). Seeing the

“Well, well, well… I always knew she would come running back,” says my snarky wordpress account as I guiltily type out the sass that my wordpress account would say if it were an animate object that spoke English.

But really, it’s been a while. Not my fault, not my problem. I have missed giving the updates though. And I figured you would rather have your own way of knowing that I’m still thriving instead of having to call my mother constantly for my status.

It’s been almost a year since I arrived here (can you believe it?!) and I feel pretty settled in. I might not understand everything, actually I’m pretty sure I’ll never understand everything here, but I feel more comfortable. I had a teacher in high school once that liked to say that it takes 10 years of doing something day in and day out to become an expert. That was his ninth year of teaching. He’s still doing it. I need to catch up with him. Anyway, I don’t think it would ever be possible for me to become an expert Peruvian. Two years, ten years, or two hundred years. It’s just not that simple.

What is simple is to fall out of habits that you had back in the good ol’ USA. And not develop new ones. Because you still feel lost and unsure about what you’re doing in your life. For example. I had a great habit of losing lip balms and chapsticks when living in a room with furniture and drawers and purses with pockets. Here, I am proud to say that I have lost not a one Burt’s Bees (RIP). Not sure why that changed, but it did. In the states I had a habit of not breaking ceramic dishes. Here, however, there have been three shattered bowls and one mug in the last month. That I am not so proud of. Habitual things like showers and treating yourself to green Naked juices on sale from Wallgreens are non existent in my life now. Things like habitually waiting for care packages that arrive on a sporadic basis are normal. Things like murmuring English obscenities under your breath to the senora that you walk past every day when she fails to tell you “BUENOS días” are habitual. Most of the habits here are good. And as I’ve recently decided to tell all ya’ll that I’m going to be coming back to the Midwest for December holiday times, I hope I don’t lose all these habits and I surely hope you don’t judge me for those that I retain.

One fun thing that I noticed a while back is the habit that “Americans” have of loving when something that you eat gives you a nice message. Namely, fortune cookies, Dove chocolates, and Yogi tea. Why do we get so excited about consuming products that dole out mass-printed strings of words? I especially love the Dove chocolates. The chocolates that I ate (probably about 10 in 10 minutes) all had a great guide to being the laziest fat a** possible…

“ press the snooze button”

“take five”

“chocolate won’t let you down”

If I took the advice from those I would have slept until noon, eaten chocolate to feel loved, and then maybe, maybe, taken five minutes off from my chocolate binge. Or taken five minutes to have another chocolate binge, it would totally depend on my mood. Good news is that my wristwatch which double functions as an alarm clock doesn’t have a snooze button. Dove doesn’t specify about five what, and I already have at LEAST five hours of free time each day so I can just disregard that, and the chocolate available here is all Sublime bars which, in fact, DO let me down. Constantly. All of the chocolate here lets me down. Except that which is sent in from the United States in the form of 60% dark or more (my address is Emily Heller, Apartado 126, Correo Central Jauja, Junin, Peru). Hint. Hint.

So after hastily consuming these advice-filled imports I decided I could really start a business with this line of thought. I’m thinking alpaca jerky and every 8 oz pack comes with a special saying to support you through your time in Peru (when you come visit me). A few have been running around my head for days… they’re as follows:

“TAKE A HIKE” –Seriously, when here, especially when bored, take a hike. Great for mental health. And it stimulates the lungs. My red blood cell count on fleek (Kiersten, if you reading this, just picture me in my room practicing my whip and nae nae. Credits to Rayna for pop culture lessons in Muquiyauyo). I also count the hikes as “integrating myself with the surrounding community” so it’s a great “work” activity.

“Sí o sí” – a variation on the saying sí o no, which means yes or no? this saying means yes or yes? Usually used to emphasize the fact that whoever is using the phrase is right. Close to the Henriettas “am I right or am I *ight,” stemming from Heba Elorbany’s “am I right or am I *ight?” My two best friends here got matching tattoos of this saying during Peruvian independence day vacation. Disclaimer to mom and dad: I’m pretty jealous. Also when people ask you this during small talk (which happens often) you usually have no idea how to answer. I always bank on the sí.

“On bleat”- This describes your sweater game. Sweater game hard= on bleat. Most Junín volunteers have a pretty good sweater game. I mean, what would you do if you were the highest Peace Corps volunteers in the world? You would buy a sweater that’s on bleat. That’s what. I also have to take this time to give my mom a shout out for sending me some pretty “on bleat” sweaters since I arrived.

“Treat your water!” Similar to the American “Treat yo’self” this one is probably the most practical advice of the bunch. Whether it be boiled, UV treated, iodine (I don’t recommend, smells like a hospital), or bought in a plastic bottle (also don’t recommend, #represent environment) don’t drink the crude stuff. It won’t kill you. I think. I’ve been gambling for a good 12 months but from the testimonies of acquaintances its better to not take the bet. I have an extremely strong stomach apparently.

Hopefully after reading this you’re just jumping for joy to try my new alpaca jerky and see what hopeful phrase is hiding inside next to the silicon preservative packet. And hopefully you are still impressed with my ex-pat mannerisms. If not, here’s a list of the actual things that I’ve been up to in the last few months…

• June
  • Assisted with the trainings of the new group of volunteers. The ones who came here are pretty on bleat.
  • Talks and drawing contests in a school nearby to promote a conservation project for the Inca Trail (QhapacNan) that is nearby.
  • Big trash collection/clean up in the German colony in the jungle a few hours north of my site with an ecology club
  • Management/design of a booth at an eco-fair and music festival in the same colony area called Selvamanos. (this was super fun, if you couldn’t tell)

 Teaching Johan how to open cans. An important life skill.

• July
  • Huacachina for a big celebration of the Independence from the Brits! It’s a little oasis on the coast of Peru in the desert. Sandboarding, pool, and general shenanigans.
  • Training in Anchash, a department that hosts what I would consider the most popular Andean national park (started by two peace corps volunteers in the ‘60s” where we visited glaicers, hiked a bunch, and more general shenanigans.
  • Santa Cruz hike with my bud Kiersten in Huascaran National Park, Ancash. This included hiking shenanigans.
  • My dear friend Rayna Christman visited me AT MY SITE. Saw what I live like. Still not sure if I should be embarrassed or proud of this. I think proud. She survived the real deal.
  • Central jungle trip to celebrate the Independence from the Spam-nerds. Lots of waterfalls and some shenanigans.
  • Wrote two blog posts which both were deleted accidentally. SRY.
• 

Watermelon. Hikes. My new bed. My site. Parties. Roosters. Dune Buggies.  The whole shebang.

• August
  • Stayed in my site basically the entire month! This is a feat. If you are a fellow peace corps volunteer—you know.
  • Planned a few projects with a neighboring district for mini landfills. And better stoves. Still working on this. We’ll see where it heads.
  • Town clean-up with my eco–club from the high school.
  • Got a bed frame. I no longer sleep on a mattress on the floor. It feels a bit bougy for my taste, but I’ll take it.
  • Family reunion for the host family of my friend/mentor/fellow volunteer Kristi. Her family thinks I am named Messi because of a jersey I wore to her house a few times. General shenanigans were involved
  • Great Junín Get Together. As a way to plug the hole in mine and Kristi’s hearts (she is also from Maple Grove, MN, SAY WHAT?!) we held a yard games day so that we wouldn’t miss the Great Minnesota Get Together so much. It kind of worked. Many shenanigans involved.
• September
  • The director of Peace Corps Peru, the director of Peace Corps South/Latin America/Fiji/etc., and the boss of my program Community Based Environmental Management all came to my site to meet my community partners. Yikes. I sweat a lot. It was a BFD.
  • Now I’m just hanging, playing around, working, and waiting for the next big thing! Which happens in less than a week. Cool stuff.
  • El Niño is already making himself present and one of my least favorite natural phenomena. Fast enemies. Rainy season is starting already. Pray for me.

Well, as I say with practically every blog post, I hope to post more often. But we both know that I can’t make any promises. So, until next time!

Good day to all!

With Memorial Day come and gone it is officially white pants season for the majority of my readers, and let me just quickly note that I might be an eensy-weensy bit jealous of the many photos of boats, bonfires, and beer cans that have been overtaking my social media streams. I hope everybody had a lovely time celebrating, and that at least a tiny bit of your heart remembered the people who have served the United States while you were pontooning and pot-lucking.

It has officially been six months since I swore in as a volunteer to the US of A’s government as a Peace Corps volunteer and I cannot believe it (nine months ago I was a baby starting training). I hope that you all can also take a minute to remember the volunteers who are working to promote peace and sustainable relationships, not only those who have served in the armed forces. My mom told me once, solely based on observation, that I would definitely never be joining the military (haha! shocker). Well of course she was right, but that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t pledge 2 years of my life to service abroad. Our work as Peace Corps volunteers is still risky business, and can be dangerous. I wish to salute those who have put their lives out there as mediators and facilitators in all aspects of service to our country.

That being said, I had a chance this week to reflect a bit on my past six months. Rather, a friend mentioned that we had been in site six months and I went into half shock and excused myself to the bathroom to come to terms with how HALF A YEAR is already passed in my service. All of a sudden a third year doesn’t seem as crazy a prospect as before… Jokes. Kind of.

The day before swearing in my training group and I all anonymously wrote a little quote or phrase that we liked and thought would help through service then put them in a bag, read them one by one, and had to guess who wrote what. Cheesy as it sounded, I semi-quoted the Sound of Music with “when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when you’re feeling sad, just simply remember your favorite things, and then you won’t feel so bad”. Truthfully here, about ¼ of the volunteers are bitten by dogs in their service, bees and other foreign bugs sting all the time (dengue crisis right now, hello), and of course at times you get frustrated with being alone and misunderstood at times.

Although tears weren’t flowing and the mutts hadn’t been after me for a while, I thought of a few of my favorite things from the last six months. I also have a few of my un-favorite things that I think are “come with the territory and learn to appreciate them” things…

The downer side includes only a couple of things. Fleas are not just for pets. Fleas are for everybody here. They don’t discriminate. Not between age, sexuality, gender, skin color, bed time… none of it. We could all learn a lesson from fleas to create a beautiful world of equality. I will say though, that I wish they had a thing against gringas because my legs itch like the dickens. I have so far bought three different types of treatment: powder, spray, and collars. Yes. I have worn flea collars. They go away, but they always, ALWAYS find their way back.

Doing laundry is COLD. Washing your hair is COLD. Washing your dishes is COLD. Don’t even mention a shower to me. I’ve been attempting the procrastination method. You would think that the whole “out of sight, out of mind” thing would work in this situation but in my opinion they should change that phrase to “out of sniffing range, out of mind” because I really can’t live with the stench. Icy mountain temperatures: 1, Emily: 0.

There are two things that are extremely persistent in letting me know that they are present. One is the flies. The other is a town drunkard. Fortunately the town drunkard is not in my house. Unfortunately, the flies are. In their own ways they let me know on the daily that they are here and I am here. And every day I do my best to ignore them and swat them away.

So with the small inconveniences mentioned, here are the major “whoo-hoos” in no particular order:

1. I am pretty sure I will NEVER get tired of the views I get here. I absolutely love living in this valley. Though it is extremely different than the Midwest that I adore, this climate is astounding in many ways. My location is prime, no other way to put it.
2. My morning coffee. Especially now that the rainy season is over and the sun is out when I get up, it takes very little to convince myself that getting out of bed to make that nice cup-o-joe will be worth it. Maybe it’s just the coffee fiend in me. I’ve loved the stuff for a good while now, but there’s something about the fresh air and again, the mountains, and drinking my coffee at 6:30.

3. Dance parties on my patio. The other reason my location is Prime, capital P, is because my room is the penthouse, with a patio/balcony. Which means when the rains go away I get a personal deck with great views and sunshine to boot. Yes, I am sure that when I blast Outkast or Sleigh Bells and start grooving the neighbors question it. And I know for a fact that my family questions it. They have walked up on me before in shorts and barefoot (a no-no) dancing away and I can hear them commenting downstairs to themselves that Emily must be “happy today because she has a boyfriend”.
4. The culinary challenges which I am put through. Not so much when given food (I have given up any restrictions in attempt to be polite) but in a way that I need to really be creative to not just stir fry vegetables every single day. Milk comes condensed or in powder, the only cheese is queso fresco, I have no oven, and god help me I never learned how to properly debone a chicken. But. There are delicious fruits (picay, granadilla, pomegranates, mandarins, and a million types of banana/plantain), I am practically picking quinoa off of the plant it is so local, and some of the best coffee I could buy doesn’t have to be free trade because I can buy it when I go down to the jungle.

5. Sparkly nails. It doesn’t matter your age here; you can wear sparkly nail polish in rainbow colors that has been chipping for weeks. I love that. It reminds me of the Princess Diaries when the queen grandma tells her to never wear nail polish like that again. Everybody wears chipped sparkly nail polish. Next step: get me some.
6. Johan is a sharer. My 5 year old host sibling/nephew/child/relative has recently realized that it is completely OK if he comes upstairs to my room to offer me grapes. Or gives me some mandarin slices when I am washing my dishes, or shows me how to squirt his dino squirt gun. In general, the entire family is getting MUCH more comfortable with me here, but Johan especially. We have a good relationship. The little ones just don’t realize yet that they aren’t supposed to tell their parents when I give them candy…

Hi! To all the mothers out there, I hope you had a very lovely Mother’s day, and that your chilluns did not forget about you! It’s only about 4 months till I get to see my own momma! Below you can see me demonstrating how much I love her. Thanks for all the support from Ms. Heller and all the moms who have been involved in my life!

Fact: I am not the most patient person. Honestly, I am not a very patient person at all. Of course upon my decision to come to Peru as a volunteer I realized that that would have to change. Either I was going to be extremely uncomfortable and frustrated trying to accomplish any sort of goal, or I was going to buck up and force myself to be patient in order to be successful in my new work. But even being aware of the need to be patient and consciously choosing to not be bothered by the changes I am facing was difficult. What I wasn’t seeing was that it was going to take time, and a LOT of patience to become accustomed to the situation I now find myself in. Here’s the scoop: talking the talk is indescribably easier than walking the walk.

At a work level, I was over-ambitious despite accepting that collaborators on projects, my host family, and even staff of the Peace Corps would be responding to my proposals and questions on a much different timeline than I was used to. If one person took a while to get back to me I’d just go seek out other people to work with and ended up getting tangled in a nasty web of confusion over when to do what with whom. Usually this led to feelings of frustration, uselessness, and even boredom which prevented me from trying to incorporate myself fully into this new culture.

Personally, I was having a hard time being patient with the various changes in daily life that I was experiencing. Being asked why I don’t add sugar to practically everything I drink, being told to not boil my water with an electric water heater, and having basically every electronic device that I own break down were a few examples. I was frustrated. Back in the time when I knew the social norms, had a pretty set schedule, and wasn’t followed by feral dogs everywhere I went I would shake off problems in a jiffy. Inconveniences made for funny stories, just adding to the spice of life. Here I started being sucked down the drain of negativity that led to early bed times, overeating, and frequent phone calls to my fellow volunteers. I wasn’t being patient in any circumstances and it was getting dangerous.

So, that’s all pretty downer but, there’s an upside! What is it, Emily? You may ask. Well. It’s that I’ve been much more patient and much less frustrated lately. How so, what flipped the switch? Time. Time heals all they say, and I guess for now it’s true. But really looking at it I think the issue was that I was trying to force everything to work. Hurriedly. I wanted to DO something. But my community needed time to understand what in the hell this young blonde chick with a funny accent was doing here. And they kind of get it now. And I kind of get them now. If a meeting discussing which type of guinea pig to cook for Mothers Day lasts 3 hours, so be it. If I was supposed to have a class on recycling but the principal decided its recess time, reschedule. If the forestry service guys don’t show up one day, call up a friend and take a hike. It’s working out. I’m a lot happier.  Patience is a virtue, and virtues are not always easy to attain. Patience is also a realization, a choice, and an integral part of getting used to completely new surroundings.

What activities exactly has time blessed me with?

Teaching a yoga class in the secondary school at another volunteer’s site

A Chasqui race (we dressed up like Incan messengers, had a ceremony on top of one of the mountains, and then a race to raise awareness about heritage!)

Pachamanca and a soccer tournament for Labor Day

Game day for the primary schools. Not sure why. But it was fun!

A proposal for an Ecological Zoo-Park in my district from the Forestry Service (I may be planning and budgeting a zoo soon for the department…? Keyword MAY)

And the finalization of our plan and budget to be presented by Abilia and me (below, hard at work) in the next month for the construction of a sanitary landfill complete with a recycling center and compost!

It has been over a month (almost two) since I posted and I am not going to apologize for the delay.

I´ve had a lot of ups and downs since February but success has taken over as of late, and I finally got a break to blog again. Straight up, I´ll let ya´ll know that my computer battery died after 5 loyal years of service, and my iphone went to another owner during a town fiesta, so photos will not be a part of this entry. If you want to see how cute and accustomed I´ve become here, check out my facebook.

Now, to get down to the real  business, I´d like to talk about an interest very near and dear to my heart. Heritage.

While I was growing up there was always a magnet on the fridge. It was an image of the Swedish flag and said ¨51% Swedish¨. I got the joke when I was about 15. Around the same time I realized I was a mutt of a person. A beautiful mutt with a fantastic family, but a mutt all the same. About 3 years later I officiated my degree in anthropology, specifically archaeology.

People have asked me over and over what I plan to do with a degree in Archaeology, and honestly I tell them that I want to teach. But. I dont want to teach in the typical professor/student relationship way. I want to be able to spread knowledge and an interest for where we come from and who we are to anybody. As my luck has it, lately I´ve been able to do so much.

Aside from my projects of promoting recycling and better trash practices, I´ve come across a great opportunity to be teaching ethics and practices of archaeology to a group of invested individuals near my host community. They bring me on hikes to pre-Inca ruin sites nearby my town and I help them interpret and share their knowledge with the surrounding area. The final goal is to preserve archaeological sites, understand ancient agricultural or economic practices, and improve knowledge of ancestoral communities. The people that I have been working with have a great investment in the past and I truly believe that through studies and diffusion of findings an important connection with the land and its importance will be realized.

A project like this takes time, and though I´ve never had a great interest in North American archaeology I think that upon my return I willl have a broader interest in pre-history and  a better understanding of how to present information to inspire the public.

Until next time.

Salute your roots!

After another month long hiatus from blog posting I’d like to congratulate all of you for keepin’ the faith in my slow but steady stamina for writing. While I’ve definitely had a few hours of leisure each day, keeping a log of every miniscule detail is not only time consuming but also boring (that goes for me and you, dear reader).  It’s much more entertaining for me to delete all my iTunes playlists then tediously go through all of my music sculpting beautiful compilations that reflect almost any stage of my life from adolescence to this past fall. Or to refold all of my clothes and place them back in my makeshift cardboard “dresser” all nice and organized. Or mastering new tricks on my kendama (so glad I brought that along, thanks Dad). Or rearrange my bed on the empty milk cans it sits on to avoid it getting wet during the frequent hailstorms. Re-watching all of Avatar the Last Airbender is also up there on my list of things to do instead of informing people in the states what I’m up to (I forgot what a spectacular show it is).  What I’m trying to say is that there are many ways to procrastinate in this life and it is a great wonder that I am just now finding all of them. I mean, for heaven’s sake, I went to college and didn’t spend my time in frivolity like this.

So here I am, and while I just spent an entire paragraph depicting daily activities that have nothing to do with “changing the world” or “working toward sustainable development goals” I pinky promise I’ve been making my time here worthwhile. For the first time in six months I’ve had a glimpse of what I would characterize as “real work”. I say this cautiously because work as I knew it in the states doesn’t exist here. My previous jobs kept me on my feet, multitasking, problem solving, utilizing creative skills, and seeing tangible results. My work here has been on the opposite end of the spectrum. To have any sort of lasting result you need to be starting from the ground up and working on community goals, not your own grandiose ideas. Which means you have to understand the community, their values, expectations, and methods. Which means that work has been a rollercoaster of an experience.  And this past month I feel like I’ve started to make some progress.

The main reason for my feeling that there has been a change in the wind regarding my position as a volunteer is that I’ve finally gotten my first project to support—I’ve become a garbage collector! More formally put I am supporting the municipal government in its analysis of the trash generated by the district. Basically a team of three other young dudes (all doing this as a final project for their university studies) and I were chartered to do a survey of 20% of the homes in Muquiyauyo and then collect all of their trash daily for four days, sort it, weigh it, and figure out what the main issues with the public collection services are so far. It was kind of fun, and gave me a great opportunity to get to familiarize myself with the town a bit more. Needless to say, I have gained a great appreciation of garbage collectors around the world. Of course when I first applied to Peace Corps I never thought that I would be doing this sort of work, but hey, my volunteer invitation said soil conservation and what could be better for conserving the beautiful earth than ridding it of decomposing inorganic waste?

Here’s me and my garbage truck! My knees hit the handlebars when I ride… the other collector is a bit more Peruvian sized…

So while that’s been taking up a good 5 hours the last few days (and will continue to as we segregate, weigh, and analyze during the next couple weeks) I’ve also made an essential and strategic professional move. In short, I got a desk. Nothing fancy like I was so luckily provided in previous office positions, but a desk nonetheless! Acquiring the workspace took what I would bluntly call “annoying and incessant demanding in a polite voice” and what most Peruvians would call “asking”. Cultural customs in a work environment here vary a LOT from what I would say is appropriate in the United States, and I am completely content with it. These… means of behavior… usually throw me back a bit, but one gets used to them. A few examples include:

• People are very direct with you when they want to be. And I mean VERY. Miraculously, because I don’t wash my face practically ever here, my skin has been looking very nice since arrival to my site. But the other day I got a zit. Not just a little baby red dot, but one of those huge red bumps that is completely un-poppable. It was on my chin. I’ve never been much of one for tons of makeup, and living here I don’t even own any, so I proudly bared the growing volcano on my chin and went into the office. When the trash team was having a meeting in the municipality the other day there was a short pause in the conversation. The “leader” of the study turned to me, pointed at my zit, and goes “What happened there? Did a mosquito bite you?”. All I could think was RUDE. He didn’t give it up but kept asking about it through the next 2 hours. Ugh.
• As I said before, asking for things is not what I would have formerly considered asking. There are two steps in getting what you want. The first is getting the attention of whoever you need to ask for information, an item, etc. This step was really frustrating to me and my, erm, patience level. You can knock on somebody’s door for a full 2 minutes (and yes, people will knock on a closed door for 2+ full minutes) and when it seems like nobody is there and a response is impossible you wait for another couple of minutes, knock again, and then finally somebody comes out to see what’s up. Or you ask for somebody, they tell you five minutes, you ask, five minutes more, you ask, five minutes more, and this continues for about an hour and then finally they give you the time of day. Once this step is done and you have their attention you can proceed to your request. If you are asking for information you’ll get it right off the bat, no matter how personal or confidential the information might be. If you need a physical object you’ll probably have to return to step one at least three more times and then maybe your request will be processed. You can’t always get what you want.

And then there are some comparisons that I’ve formed that make me feel as if my job is the same as any one of my successful peers from my graduating class. Basically, I feel like at times my office space is comparable to that of one in a super-hip, well-to-do company in Manhattan. Here’s why:

• Picture a worker just out of college, this is their first salary job, and they really want to impress but the big-wig CEO or whatever is in over her/his head, so any request made by the newbie is overlooked. Newbie feels like their position is useless until one day the secretary of CEO/whatever sends some guys from Huge Important Agency to their desk for a project that is desperately needed and alas newbie realizes they actually DO make a difference in the company. That’s like my position with the Municipality, despite only 6 people working there.
• Cool, down-to-earth companies allow dogs in the office. I know this because I’ve been close with multiple people to work on the set of The Daily Show. Not only dogs are allowed there, but also there are snacks provided. My office is JUST like this. Stray dogs wander in ALL the time, and none are ever shooed by a single employee of the municipality. Also, this week it’s been about 50 degrees in the office all day, so the treasurer has made us really yummy hot tea and cookies and handed them out in excess to “keep us warm”. It’s a wonder to me that the dogs don’t get into the snacks though…
• Casual Fridays are SO in the past, instead we have casual EVERYday. This may be a casualty (hehehe) of the weather being 50 degrees, but that’s beside the point. Flannel, fleece, fuzzy socks. Thick jackets, boots, and even hats are allowed. No shunning whatsoever. People in the up-n-comin’ fortune five-hundreds may be allowed “business casual” but I would say we even outdo that.
• Bumpin’ tunes. This may be pushing it, but I don’t care. Whoever is in charge of choosing the radio station daily is doing a fantastic job in my opinion. Peruvians love American music, but it’s all stuff from behind the times, as if the DJ were spinning a soundtrack to my preteen soul. Some of the greats include
  • Spice Girls “Wannabe”
  • Shaggy “Wasn’t Me”
  • 4 Non Blondes “What’s Up” (this one I can particularly relate to)
  • MC Hammer “U Can’t Touch This”

Really things aren’t too incredibly different than if I had studied marketing and gotten at least a five-figure job after a couple internships… After a few months here at site I’m starting to feel a lot more comfortable with where I’m at. Getting accustomed is just taking its sweet, sweet time, like any other major life change might. And I can’t complain.

I’ll make some sort of attempt to be posting more frequent updates about life here in the campo, so all you state-siders can keep up. Until then, have a wonderful ride out of winter! Oh. And a few pics for the road…

These are from the old hydroelectric plant that will hopefully be rennovated and used again in the next couple years…

Here are Alison and Mijael playin’ in the house. They’re such cuties.

It’s been quite a while since I posted last.  Quite a while. Although I would be apologetic about this I feel that most of you folk who read my blog either A) talk to my mom, who, via my weekly e-mails or inhibition (but more likely my weekly e-mails) passes along the up-to-date info or B) don’t actually have too keen an interest in keeping up with the drear of rural Peru, and thus I’ll save my apologies for a more important lack of harbingers that are sure to come in the future.

Because it has been almost an entire month since my last post I feel that it’s imperative that I relay the highlights here which should also give you a pretty good visual of the day to day life that I’ve been leading. Let me preface this by saying that none of my comments are too exotic or ridiculous. Despite the fact that I have no exact daily schedule and am still trying to make “friends” there has been no problem that is so out of hand that the beautiful mind of yours truly, graced and learned by the the knowledge of my Heller parents has not yet been able to deal with. Tears have come very rarely—t hank the lords above—and optimism still shines through the haziness of the horizon.

With that being said, here are a few of the facts, quips, thoughts, and confessions I’ve crossed paths with since January began:

1. Peruvians don’t pee. This is above and beyond my comprehension, but I have a theory that just as some people outgrow their lactose tolerance, Peruvians outgrow their need to urinate after about the age of 6. Now I don’t want to seem like the Potty Patrol but with 12 people and one bathroom, trust me, I know when people are “going”. And I know that I have seen the five-year-old pee twice, three-year-old once, and the others never. I suspect this has to do with the fact that they also consume about .01 cups of water/day COMBINED… but I could be wrong. On the other hand I am looked at like the polar bear in the Minnesota Zoo; with pity and sadness because they know that while I survive, using the latrine every couple of hours, I feel completely out of my habitat and all they can do is look on.

2. I have developed a fear (not quite a phobia) which I don’t exactly know how to define. It’s basically a “What-if-when-I-grow-up-and-become-a-mom-my-kids-are-those-weirdos-who-don’t-know-anything-about-the-real-world-because-their-mom-made-everything-by-hand” kind of fear. Let me explain. I am on limited resources. Although my district/municipality officially “invited” me to work here they have absolutely no money and no resources that they can give me. That means that my skills of being creative and making something out of nothing come in handy here! I’ve made hanging baskets out of mosquito nets (hopefully I don’t need those in the future), shelving out of fruit crates, games and educational tools galore with recycled tins, paints, and papers that I have. It also means that I am becoming completely reliant on having nothing at all to the extent that I am now fearful that my kids will be playing “Chutes and Ladders” handmade on the back of a used sweater with rocks as playing pieces, or that their playing cards will be scraps of beer bottle labels on which numbers are drawn. I might go as far as to make them wear shoes made of old juice cartons just because I can despite my having a future job as the ambassador of Panama or something like that. As I said, it’s just a fear, nothing more.

3. Successful interior decoration only comes once you let go of preconceived notions which define “comfortable”. Of course, I already stated that I rue the idea of functional fixedness… if a bucket wants to be a hat, so be it! If I can fancy a tree nursery of old boxes and sticks, I will! But making your room a cozy place requires that you release a bit more of your inhibition. After a couple of months in site I am proud to say that I feel very at home in my new living space, having a fully functional (yet not with complete accommodations) kitchen, sitting area, and bed. Might I utilize this space to show off a couple of photos…?

Notice the lovely amount of storage space, beautiful (plastic) backsplash that I just recently added, and the two buckets, one a modern cistern and the other specialized to collect pig-slop. Can you believe that one of them is the paint bucket of the very marigold paint I chose to adorn these walls?! It’s a great room with lots of light, and despite the fact that I have to duck because the ceiling is exactly my height, I love it. Special thanks to my friends and family who have sent me cards along the way so far. Just FYI all of them have been hung up right next to my bed so I can get them warm-fuzzies as I drift off and right as I rise and shine.

4. Hyperawareness is a thing here. I feel that for me it is rooted in the fact that I might get osteoporosis and a hunch-back prematurely while living here. I am hyperaware of the curve of my spine. I am also hyperaware of my cognitive abilities. You know how when you’re in 5^th grade or so all the kids are like “If you hit yourself in the head you lose blah-blah-blee-blah amount of brain cells,”…? You know? Well being over 5’3” here is an insane asylum and scrunch-back-mcgee waiting to happen. I happen to be 5’7” (almost, to be honest, in case my sister is reading this). I would say that doors average a height of about five foot. That is not to mention walking through stairwells, passages, and tents in the market. On average I hit my head about 10 times per week. And that includes me scrunching my back or trying to squat-walk (which looks very awkward if you haven’t tried). To add to this, there are hardly ever chairs instead of stools to sit on, and when there are they’re those little mini chairs with the six inch legs that are abound in preschools and kindergarten classes. Hopefully the problem of me becoming a Notre Dame bell ringer is not too far-fetched for you now.

Just for fun here is me sitting on one of the tiny chairs. It is my first-grade summer school class painting rocks and enjoying the beauty that the school grounds can provide.

5. Today I realized that even those host families who usually seem timid and quiet can by sympathetic and even humorous in the event that the white girl living with them breaks the sink faucet. At 7:30 AM sharp (as I have found is the most opportune time to wash my dishes despite the freezing cold) I descended the steps, tub of pots and plates in hand, and said leftover morning hellos just like any other day. Unlike other days, I had classes to teach at 8 and had already changed into what I presume is appropriate foreigner garb for the elementary students. I stepped up to the sink, turned on the faucet, and before I knew it was drenched in water from neckline to waist and screaming for Jesus to come save me. He appeared next to me within seconds and attempted fix the situation. Jesus is also the name of my host grandpa who knows all about the rigging and plumbing in this home. Maybe if the real Jesus had come he could have fixed the faucet, but my host gramps and I tried for a few minutes to get the hardware working without success. Instead we caught the water that we could in buckets for the next three hours until the trickle came to a slow stop, and throughout the day my family teased me for “finally having tried to bathe, without success”. The truth is that no, I don’t bathe here because it’s too cold until 2 PM and after that we don’t have running water. But they were kind and I appreciated their joking, and the next day before I went to wash my dishes the faucet had broken again on my host sister who was having a fit that I never would have dreamed of performing.

6. A final list for things that I appreciate and think daily to end this list:

1. I have a GREAT class of summer-schoolers who like to paint, talk about why nature is important, make cheese, and giggle with me.
2. I am almost on par with Peruvians so far as potato-to-other-factors-of-diet goes. For me this is about 1.5-2 per day. They hold about a 3. I think that the world record potato eater would probably have about 4. I don’t even know, though
3. Listening to the radio here is something I’ve come to enjoy. If you thought that the radio in the US was repetitive…forget it. Huayno is where it’s at.
4. I lost my cell phone at the mark of the New Year and have only missed it once so far. I think that if anything that’s a testament to my being able to live solitarily here.
5. Pigs will come, and pigs will go, but the really fat pigs that you walk past daily who grunt in their sleep are forever.

Hopefully I don’t wait this long to post again, and those updates must suffice until next time.

As an extra make-it-up-to-ya’ll here are some other pics from the last few weeks that I found worthy…