Father Fred.

There is a man here named Father Fred Green. He is 88 years old and has been in Peru for over 50 years. He is originally from Hawaii, is a WWII veteran (marine, I think?), is bilingual (obvio), and has lost a lot of his hearing. You sort of have to yell when you talk to him.

Father Fred is also the man who is responsible for both the schools in which the Jesuit Volunteers in Tacna teach. That is, he founded both Cristo Rey and Miguel Pro. I think he also helped set up the Fe y Alegria here, though I am not sure what his part in that was. He does almost every Sunday mass in Habitat. He comes over on Sundays for breakfast with the volunteers. He consistently asked me how I was feeling when I was badly sick in the stomach. He brings us our mail every so often, and will give us rides to the center in his car. He is the one who created Mes de Mision, the month-long service trip for the students of each school during their summer vacation. The philosophy is that everyone, everyone, can serve and has something to give (including the students from poorer families at Miguel Pro), so we should give it.

Father Fred is a good man. A good human being. Wherever he goes, the Peruvians get up and greet him (instead of waiting for him to go to them) as a sign of respect. When my host family or just people I meet find out I´m a volunteer, they automatically ask me how Father Fred is doing, and then tell me how good of a person he is. He has made a lasting difference in the lives of many people here. He´s pretty much a rockstar.

The thing is about Father Fred is that he strikes me as a simple person who decided to focus on what he saw important in his life. I won´t try to say what is important to him since I´d rather not butcher something so profound, but I can say that Father Fred is authentic, genuine, caring, and pays attention to people.

Recently, I´ve been reading Story of a Soul, the autobiography of my confirmation saint, St. Therese of Lisieux (shout out to Christina Llanes!). I´m not done with the book, but St. Therese had her little way, her focus, her genuine search for God.

I also think of my high school days in basketball, when I read John Wooden´s book, and how much he stressed attention to detail in all that we do. That is, John Wooden says that you can bet a successful person is one who pays attention to many seemingly tiny details.

These really are just half-thoughts floating in my head, but I am shown by these people that in the every day lull of our lives, we can authentically love each other. And it is really that simple. I think I´ve been smacked in the face with so much of the extraordinary (moving thousands of miles away, learning a new language, etc.,) that my experience of the ordinary is skewed right now. But, as living in Peru is becoming a little bit more normal to me, I am reminded of the simple things. Love. Pay attention. Listen to people.

Like Father Fred.






Did you know that there are penguines in Peru?¿!¡ Humboldt penguines. Wow.

see.

I have a lot of time on my hands this week. School is over, and we are starting the infamous Mes de Mision on Sunday. I have no school meetings because I won´t be teaching at any of these schools in Tacna. I got another wisdom tooth out, so I am mandated to stay out of the sunlight and not to carry heavy objects. It also, you know, hurts a lot. I´m still chillin´ with the host family, though most of the volunteers have moved back to Habitat, either in the rooms in which they will reside for the next two years, or back to the posta, or Charo´s house. My host mom, though, explicitly told me that she would be angry with me if I moved back to Habitat before I had to. I think that is her way of saying she likes having me around, though I´m not sure why. Either way, all I have to do until Sunday is recover and prepare for Mes de Mision.

I guess I´m saying all of this because I´m going to post a lot on here in these next couple of days. Thoughts that have been lingering, pictures too. Because I have the time now, and I won´t be able to post anything during the entirety of January during Mes de Mision. I´m reminded of my own words in 3rd grade, "enjoy it while it lasts." And I guess I´ve found blogging a useful tool to better understand my reality at this time.

So, with that, I will start with some pictures. Always a favorite, no? I perhaps haven´t posted enough pictures on here for you to see, but here we go. Click on the pictures to enlarge.

  Yea, thats the pata of a cuy. The paw of a guinea pig. Nom nom nom...

All twelve of us, plus Carmen and Charo for a Christmas-y dinner. 

 I find this picture hilarious. Cara, Sam, Mallory. Shows the future of our community in Anda??

 I went to see the petroglifos with my host mom, but to get there we had to cross a rope bridge. She went first to make sure it was safe....

 I was frikken scared..

Some of the cool rocks. 

 Tacna Nativity scene. Authentic Peruvians. 

 Culturally appropriate Santa Claus!!

 On Christmas Eve morning, we went on a trip to Tarata, a little town in the mountains nearby. Here are the back of Sam and Mo´s family looking at the cool view at the top of our hike. 

 My host family for Christmas. Host mom Edda, host sister Stephanie, abuela Ophelia, me, abuelo Enrique

 Where the ocean and the desert meet. The two spiritual landscapes. Beautiful. 

 Merry Christmas on the beach. Cousin Nitza, abuela Ophelia, sister Stephanie, cousin Edda, and me. 

I´m getting sick of rice and potatoes.

serious.

I´ve been thinking about judgment a lot recently. Sort of facinated how quickly and quietly it sneaks into us without notice. It takes hold in seconds. In the shadows, when it goes unnoticed. The only thing that will loosen its grip is its own name. And even then sometimes it remains. We try to forgive ourselves by calling it simple observation, which only makes it stronger. I´ve been thinking about it because, well, the Peruvians think I´m very serious.

It makes a lot of sense. I got off the plane in November in shock. I had just left my entire family crying. I left everything I knew to embrace a gut feeling that I was going where I was meant to go, but I still don´t know what that really means. I´m very new here, and all of Peru is very new to me. I hardly understand anyone and have tried to listen a lot. I couldn´t, and still struggle with, speaking spanish. Then I got violently sick and remain sick even now. All that = serious.

Though I can definitely be intense, I´m not really that serious. It´s a judgment that has been put on me here, again, mostly by the Peruvians. It happened so quickly. It took me quite a while to realize it. But I can feel it now.

Don´t get me wrong, I don´t feel judged. Nor am I worried about it. Like most things, with time and space, I will learn more spanish and the Peruvians will get to know me better. If all else fails, when I go to Andahuaylillas, I´ll be able to start over again. More than worried, I am facinated at the process, how it happened that I was unanimously labeled serious.

I´ve recently found a way out of this label, too. It´s just one small step, but it´s something. I was sitting next to Gabi, a crazy Peruvian teacher here, during a concurso of Christmas carols by the teachers of the various Catholic schools in Tacna. I was forced to speak a bit more spanish, and well, you know, there are so many ways to communicate. And make fun of people. Peruvians do that a lot--make fun of people. Sometimes, its a bit too much, but sometimes its an opportunity to laugh. Especially if you use yourself as the subject. Well, now Gabi thinks I´m as crazy as she is... Maybe that´s another judgment, but its breaking the box I´ve been put into just a little bit.

Gabi tells me every time I have a serous face to remember her poking me in the side and just smile. Wittis, another Peruvian here who has hosted volunteers, tells me I smile much more now then when I first came. Actually, I´ve heard this from a few people, that I talk more now and smile.

It makes me think, though, how I´ve judged people already here. I´m definitely not immune. I would be lying to myself if I thought I´ve been fair to everyone. The question is, how have I judged? Who have I judged? What am I going to do about it?


be open and be opened.  

what did you get for Christmas?

I got a tan.

Before I go any further, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my big brother, Daniel. I wish I could be with you right now. I´m sending you prayers and good thoughts from afar. I am with you in spirit. I love you and miss you. Have a beautiful day.

....

This Christmas, being my first away from home, out of the country, and in Peru, was quite weird, to say the least. First off, I woke up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Eve to go on a hike in Tarata, a little town in the mountains about an hour and half away from Tacna. I went with Mo and her family, Martin and Edid, two peruvians, and Sam. This place is quite high in altitude, some 10,000 ft or so. We hiked around for a while, which was gorgeous. Actually, we kinda huffed and puffed most of the way. It was particularly exciting to be there for me because I imagine Andahuaylillas to be a bit more like Tarata than Tacna, that is, a quiet, small village in the mountains, high in altitude. It was also nice to get out of the desert of Tacna for a little bit, as much as I really do love the desert and its spirituality. After our hike, we then went to Ticaco, another town where there are thermal baths because of a nearby volcano. It was fantastically hot and really, really relaxing.

We came back to Tacna with enough time to take a nap before mass in Habitat at 7:30pm. I got there a little early to help out the choir, or more like try to sing in spanish with many words I didn´t know (word of the day: pañales = diapers/swaddling clothes). I got to sing the Ave Maria with Mo, who usually sings it with Cara, but while Cara is back home, I took the part. I messed it up a bit, though. I also got to play "Breath of Heaven," one of my favorite Christmas songs, on the piano for Mo and some peruvians to sing. I had been practicing all week, and I think it turned out alright for only having a keyboard with no pedal. It was the only song in English, too, of course, but really nice for me to do, to remember home. At the end of mass, the Jesuits had people wish everyone a Merry Christmas in as many languages as we knew, which was Spanish, English, Quechua, Aymara, and French. A very beautiful way to unite us all. After mass, we went around to give gift baskets and sing some songs to the poorest families in Habitat.

Afterwards, we all went our separate ways, mostly to each of our own host family´s house. I went back to mine: my host mom Edda, host sister Stephani, and host grandparents Enrique and Ophelia. Usually, Peruvians eat dinner at midnight on Christmas Eve, but my family ate earlier, at 11pm. We waited for midnight, during which everyone in town lit fireworks to celebrate. And I don´t mean little glow sticks, I mean the big guns. It was like a frikken war zone, I was so scared. Many people had started shooting the fuegos artificiales much earlier, but at midnight they were everywhere. They continued throughout the night, actually waking me up several times, which is impressive for me, a very deep sleeper. Actually, they have yet to stop; I just heard another one go off right now. Then, right after midnight the whole family hugged each other, had a toast, and opened presents. My host family got me a present, which was really nice of them and totally unnecessary. I gave them chocolates from my mom, which they then fought over who could eat them, haha. I know other families continued their night with partying and dancing, but we took it tranquilo and went to bed early, around 2am.

The next morning, Christmas Day, I woke up to Pannetonne and chocolate for breakfast. Peruvians do love their Pannetonne, though its Italian.... We then randomly decided to go to the beach for the day. Actually, apparently Peruvians here do that all the time. So I spent most of Christmas day getting a tan on the beach, writing and reading some, and talking to my host cousins and uncles about life.

In all, it was quite a different Christmas. I mean, I´ve never gotten a tan on Christmas. It´s not like it snows in Covina or anything, but still. It was also quite sad to be away from my family. I had a moment where I saw my host mom, Edda, hug her mother, Ophelia, and wish her a Merry Christmas, and I couldn´t hold back a tear, wishing I could hug my own mother. It is not quite the same over video chat. This morning, for the feast of the Holy Family, the priest offered a petition of the families of the "volunteers from America." =)

I hope you all had a beautiful Christmas. I am thinking of you and praying for you. I miss you and love you very much. Remember that, in everything, the big, the small, the pain, the tears, the ordinary, the weird, the joyful, and the peace, God is with us. Emmanuel. God with us.

Navidad, oh Navidad vive siempre en mi pensar. Señor ayudame a recordar que cada dia es Navidad.

i don´t think like a Peruvian

Some simple observations of the differences between Peruvian and American thought. Actually, to be clear, I don´t pretend to understand either culture, but from my limited experience I proceed.

1. Buses here have a set route, but do not have set stops. Basically, anyone can get on and off the bus at whatever time they want. All you have to do is wave down the bus, and they will pick you up, and then say "baja" when you want to get off. Also, except for if you want to go to Centicos, every bus ride is 50 cents, no matter when you get on and when you get off. Very convenient, but not efficient.

2. When at a party, Peruvians do not go up to the food table and eat. Rather, they wait to be served. This really kind of confused me, because I thought they were being shy or just weren´t hungry or something. But I asked my host sister why that is, and she said it is more respectful and polite to wait to be served. If you go up and get the food yourself, the assumption is that you are stuffing your face. If you wait to be served, you are getting the portion offered to you.

3. Most construction projects I´ve seen are half finished, but many of them are purposefully so. I´ve heard different reasons for this. Sometimes people run out of resources. Sometimes, you leave your project so that if you want to expand later, it is easier to do so (for example, there are many one-story buildings that look like they were supposed to put on a second level, but just haven´t done so). I´ve also heard you get a tax break if your building is unfinished, so people leave it so.

4. This is a judgment, but Peruvians don´t know how to shop in a supermarket. There is one new supermercado in Tanca called Plaza Vea, the first ever here. It´s kind of trippy... reminds me both of Costco and Walmart, and a little bit of Hot Dog on a Stick, because the workers had crazy hats on. I guess the best way to describe the way the Peruvians shop is to compare it to their driving... Basically, almost everything goes . Whatever lane you can get, whoever you can pass up, cut off. Whatevs (actually, this is somewhat similar to how Peruvians go up for communion at mass, too). Also, the cashiers are super slow, haha.

5. The city is not really separated into different areas, like residential and commercial, for example. This is not completely true, because places like Habitat, where the JV´s live, are pretty darn residential, but still there is a huge mixture. In the center of Tacna, you will find someone´s house next to a nice clothing store next to the market next to the school next to a casino, and one of those will have a farm out back, in the middle of the city. Or sometimes, the first floor is the shop, and the second floor is that person´s house.

6. I can´t have a list of differences without mentioning la hora Peruana, or Peruvian time. I have no idea what the rules are for this one... I´ve only got two definite examples. First, you always go to mass on time. Mass starts at 7:30, so you get there on time. Second, if you are invited to a party that starts at 8pm, you don´t come until 10pm or so. Everyone shows up hours late. But, outside of mass and parties, I don´t know the rules of Peruvian time. For example, one time we had dance practice, and we started about 45 min late, even though we were preforming the next day. Another time, we were catching the bus to go to the beach with the famlies of Miguel Pro, a school here. All the Peruvians got mad at all the gringos for getting on the bus at 9am instead of 8:45am. What? As Mo said, they´ve made us wait for everything else anyways.

7. Not everyone goes up for communion during mass. Actually, not very many people go up at all. It depends on where you are, but I would guess that about half the people go up for communion. I´m not sure why that is, something I need to learn more about. It is very different than the American sense that you must "get something" out of going to mass.

8. You can definitely sit next to the taxi driver. Actually, you can sit up front with the bus driver too.

9. Peruvians begin counting on their fingers with their pinky, not their pointer. Pinky is one, pinky and ring finger is two, pinky ring and middle is three, you get the picture. 

10. Also, when beckoning someone to come towards you, Americans will typically put their hand palms up and wave their hand towards them. Peruvians do the same, but with their palms down. Kinda hard to describe, but easy to see.

11. When at the beach, you wear your bathing suit.... and a shirt and shorts over it too. Some people will actually swim in just a bathing suit, but many people, probably most, wear clothes on top too. 

12. You greet everyone at a party, even if there are 50 people there. Guys shake hands, girls get a kiss on the cheek. It is rude not to greet each person individually, and people do hold grudges.

13. Peruvians serve all alcohol in small glasses a little bigger than a shot. If you don´t want someone to serve you more alcohol, you just leave a little bit in your glass. If they see that you have not yet finished your cup, you are fine. Once you´ve finished, though, they will insist that you have more. Unless you want to get shwasted real fast, just don´t finish the cup. The same is true of food... if your plate is empty, they will put more on it. If you leave just a little bit there, they think you are still eating. Thing is, by the end you want your plate to be empty, because otherwise they will think you didn´t like the food. The only way to really express that you liked the food is to eat tons of it. So, eat slowly, and when you think its been long enough that they won´t offer you more, finish your plate. Or, just stuff your face. 

14. In general, Peruvians value extroverts. They like the loud, outgoing person who will talk a lot and jump up and dance too. Most Peruvians think I´m really serious at this point, because my spanish is not at the point yet where I can have a good conversation. Meh. It´s just that I can´t translate my jokes fast enough. =) Ha, plus a little culture shock going on, of course.

15. Also, in general, people here value you for who you are, not for what you do. My host family claims me as their own, not for anything I´ve done to help them at all. I can barely communicate with them, and they show me patience. I am having all these stomach problems, and they buy me special yogurts and flax seed, as well as take me to doctors. My host mom introduces me as her daughter, confusing many a Peruvian. I´ve done nothing but interrupt their lives with an extra mouth to feed, more laundry to do, and hospital visits. But they care for me just for being me.


I think we should learn from each other. No one place does everything correctly. But, if we learn from each other, maybe we can all do things a little better.


peace and prayers. happy birthday to Lindy from yesterday.

please, stare at me.

Most places I go, people stare at me. And I´m not going to lie, I don´t really like it.

I´ll preface this by saying that I don´t get stared at nearly as much as some of the other volunteers. My hair and eyes are as dark as Peruvians (though not many have my kind of curly hair... actually that´s true in general), it is just my skin that is lighter than most, and my height that gives me away. I´ve yet to meet a Peruvian woman as tall as I am, and I don´t even consider myself particularly tall. In fact, my host sister blamed my height as the reason why people stare, though I think there is more to it. My host mom told me I don´t really look Spanish, I only look a little bit Latina, and I kinda look gringa (what?! so what do I look like? Just, different). I notice that people stare much less when I am out with my host family than when I´m out with other volunteers. Ashlen got called "Hannah Montana" once while walking on the street... how awkward is that?! One of the only times that I was consciously aware that no one was really looking at me was when there was a Middle Eastern couple walking around the market. The wife was wearing a burqa and everyone was staring at her, shamelessly.

That got me thinking a little bit. Who do I stare at? Who do we stare at? It is really natural to look at something or someone who is different than what you are used to seeing. I mean, babies are the best example, how widely they open their eyes to the world around them. But, often when we stare, we are not opening our eyes to absorb another way of life, but rather judging it. We as individuals and as a society are deciding what is "other" than we are, what is different and outside of us. We exclude. We are saying that people who wear turbans and burqas, or people in wheelchairs, or people with deformities, or with different skin or hair or height are not a part of my world. They are not a part of my world.

I guess this brings up another fundamental question in my mind, one that we ask ourselves often. Where do I belong? When I am being stared at by every Peruvian around me, I don´t feel much like I belong here.

Open my eyes. We belong to each other.

I sometimes might feel like I´m in a different world here. I mean, even the stars are different. But I live in the same world. Rather than excluding each other, we must remember we belong to each other. One of the great messages of Christ´s life was inclusion for those people always stared at, told they were "other." Sisters and brothers. Next time someone stares, I must remember she is my sister, he is my brother. It is a great illusion that we are so separate. Yes, I cannot ignore our differences. But I can open my eyes.


i´ll go with you.

for Erika

Happy Birthday, Erika!!

I´m sorry that I´m not there with you to celebrate your life, but I am certainly with you in spirit. I´m thinking about you, praying for you, and missing you terribly. I wear our sisters bracelet every day. I love you.

I encourage you all to send a nice message of birthday cheer to my sister!

---


A short update, just some thoughts. My health has improved some, in that I am not having sharp pains that send me to the hospital, but I´m still having problems. I definitely was in a funk from all the hospital visits and such, but I feel myself coming out of that funk, keeping perspective and relaxing a bit. I mean, we all always have problems going on, shit happens (except not for me.... I just want to poop!!). And while I´m still actively trying to fix the problems of my gastrointestinal health, worrying about it doesn´t help anything. Happiness is often a choice, almost always a choice. So I am choosing to be happy.

I´ve been in Peru now for a month, and in just one more week Nate, Gabe, and Cara finish their time as JV´s. Well, Cara is coming back for another year, and Gabe and Nate are going to travel a bit before going back home, but in a very real way they are saying goodbye to this place. I am reminded of my own painful goodbye. I am praying for them all.


a sacred silence.

in sickness and in health.

I feel like a large topic in my blog so far has been my health, and if I think about it, I guess this is a large topic in my life right now. You faithful readers already know of the first time I got violently sick here in Peru on the 9th day in country, as well as when I got rocoto shot in my eye on Thanksgiving, the 15th day in country. Then, this past Tuesday on the 20th day in country I got one of my wisdom teeth pulled (the next three will get pulled later on, one by one), though for now I will skip that story. Then, last night on the 23rd day I went to the hospital again with severe abdominal spasms. And I mean severe. I think I have a decent tolerance for pain, but I couldn´t stand up straight with these pains. Mo looked rather worried about me. Actually, a lot of people did. After and inyeccion for the pain and an ultrasound to see what was up, the doctors weren´t really sure what it was except for severe constipation. Blockage. I´m now un-blocking my system, which obviously requires many trips to the servicios higienicos.

I woke up today, and still remain, in a weird mood. I´m not used to being sick like this, or taking so much medicine. I can´t swallow pills very well, and so in the US at least, I just wouldn´t take the pills whenever I could avoid it. I have peppermint products for headache relief when I need it as a natural remedy (which really does work), and I would much rather drink special teas to help digestive problems than popping a pill.

I think I just feel really shaken up. Like something was touched deep inside of me.

This is rough.

I really didn´t expect to get this sick this often.

I am reminded, though, by a friend and fellow JV Samii Hartman that this is a priviledge. The fact that I can and did choose to serve in Peru is a priviledge. And everything that comes with it, I chose and choose every day. This sounds odd, but its a priviledge to get sick in Peru. The fact that I had the power, ability, and freedom to come to another country is a huge deal that not very many people have. People keep saying its a brave thing to do JVC in Peru, or its so noble, or selfless. Nope. It´s a priviledge.

I know its a little more complicated than that. Its just that my innards are burned in disease and they wouldn´t be if I wasn´t where I am, exercising this priviledge.


Though I feel very shaken up, I´m sticking through this one. In sickness and in health. Whatever I have to give, God will show me how to give it. Because it is by God that I am here. God sent me, God will show me what to do. I´m not sure what I have to give, like this. But that is the wrong question. The question is, will I say yes?


Go in peace, for your faith has saved you.