A deep breath.
I had heard of the infamous Mes de Misión for a long, long time. At least since orientation back in July. Stories about how horrible and difficult an experience it is. Volunteers dropping weight all over the place. Breaking your hand. Stuff like that. At some point someone decided that all the new Andahuaylillas JV's would go to Tanca first, and as a part of this transition and learning, go on Mes de Misión with the Tacna volunteers. Dun dun dunnnnnn. Well, now Mes de Misión 2011 has come and gone, and though I did lose weight (and Rose broke her finger), it wasn't so bad in the end.
A little background. Mes de Misión started in 1972 after a big earthquake in '71 had wiped out an entire town up in the mountains. I think it was Father Fred or one of his companions who had the idea of going, taking some students, and working for earthquake relief. The tradition has continued ever since. Students who have just finished their 3rd year of secondary (equivalent to about freshmen in high school, 14-15 year olds) leave Tacna for an entire month of their summer vacation to do service work in a place of need. The two Father Fred schools participate in this: Miguel Pro and Cristo Rey. Myself, Seamus, Mo, Ashlen, Rose, and Mallory went with the Miguel Pro group to Ticaco, while Greg, Mateo, and Sam went to Puerto Grau with Cristo Rey (if you are wondering why the split, well, Cristo Rey is an all-boys school and it was deemed a very bad idea to send female volunteers there. Thank God.) From what I heard about Puerto Grau so far, it was burning hot, there were no toilets, and they only showered 3 times the entire month. I think I showered 11 times in ice cold water, after washing my hair in a sink. Sucks. But I'll let the boys tell their own.
First of all, Ticaco is a beautiful, beautiful place. It is a small mountain town some 3200 meters high (like 10,000 ft) with a large farming community. It is hot and sunny in the morning and then pouring rain and cold from 2pm onwards. Many of the people I encountered there were either very old (like in their 80's), or very young children. The young adults of the town seemed to have all moved out to Tacna to find better jobs. The work that we ended up doing there was simple: We kicked rocks. No really. We cleared the caminos that go up and down the mountains of the rocks that make those same caminos difficult to walk though, especially for the older generation. We spent day after day digging out boulders and shoveling or kicking smaller rocks. Occasionally, some groups would get to go pick ava beans in one of the chakras to help out the señora who was cooking for us. And we also had to gather our own leña, or firewood. That involved hour long hikes through rivers to get to the leña, and then climbing up the mountain again with the wood on your back. We had to do it, or we wouldn't have eaten. The time I went, I fell into the river, and one teen in my group, Leo, helped pull me out. It wasn't as bad as that sounds, but Leo is a real rock star and I was very appreciative. We also alternated doing catechesis lessons for the children in town, which was a nice break and really cute, though the children stopped coming after a while because they were needed to help work on the farms.
The work was boring most of the time, but it did help the community. Sometimes service is boring, but you gotta do it. The people who would walk by were very appreciative. One 80-year-old woman told us that a year ago she had broken her foot on a rock, and now she can walk so easily. It was beautiful to hear, and I think powerful for the students to witness.
That's not really what is difficult about Mes de Misión, though. The work is tiring sometimes, but its everything else that is difficult. Because for the kiddos, well, its easy what that month meant. It was their first time away from home, a chance to see another reality, to do a little good, and bond with each other. For a JV, it means something else. It means doing a lot for children who wont notice and wont care, will take advantage of you, and will whine about it all. Working harder than all of them, making sure everyone works, keeping groups together. Working out individual problems. Spending your free time teaching the kids who failed math, english, communications. Talking to individuals and being a role model. Being the nurse or treasurer. Making sure everyone will eat. All this to teen who will lie to your face, cheat on games, and steal food that is for the community. It means staying behind for stragglers, learning how to motivate them. Most of the kids will only work for points. They want rewards and avoid castigos. You cannot work that way. There is no reward apart from your experience. You work, you must work, because you believe that the little you do can help. Because you believe that we must help. Because you believe. Truth is not only what one believes but what one does.
For me, Mes de Misión also meant being present to the person right in front of me, though I will leave them soon. I'm not a teacher at Miguel Pro and I never will be, but I was asked to be an acesora on this trip and journey with these teens for one month, and so I tried. For some reason, the kiddos thought I was cool. I'm not sure why. But they liked me. I think it was because I would play basketball or soccer with them. One time I played soccer and completely shut down this one kid who was cherry-picking goals in the corner. I think the boys thought it was cool that a girl was playing well. Whenever I needed one kid in my group to work, I would take the shovel or pick and do the work that he was supposed to be doing. He would suddenly go, "No, Miss! Yo puedo."And he would work. I got a lot of "The Miss is strong" comments, haha. I guess I felt comfortable just being myself and just talking about the things those kids liked talking about, even if for me they were boring, or were only really about what boy or girl they liked, or simple things really. I was even "friends" with the Mean Girls... yes, there were definitely a small group of mean girls, like the movie, who actually talked to me about stuff. They also made fun of me relentlessly, and sometimes it frustrated me, but I've got the self-esteem to hold my own, at least. It was a special opportunity for me to help these girls see how their actions affected others, and though I don't think I got through to them, it was a start. I hope.
I had a couple very good conversations (in my broken spanish, though it is getting better) with one girl, Rebecca. She asked me about my life, I responded honestly. I asked her about her's. I asked her one day how she felt I could better motivate her peers to work, and she had some good ideas that I think worked. And then, there was an incident of theft. Someone had stolen food straight out of Mo's backpack. We later found out 5 students were involved, and well, Rebecca was one of them. I was pretty disappointed. But she asked me if I would talk with her, and we did. It was difficult, because I was very sick that day, and it was a heavy conversation, but she was asking herself the big questions of her actions, and I was asking her even bigger questions about who she is and who she wants to be. There were a lot of tears. It was very good. And I think I saw her grow in that moment.
I did get sick again during Mes de Misión. The sanitation during the month was, well, minimal. We used the same knives to cut everything, including the raw chicken. We also used laundry buckets for everything, food, laundry, carrying water down from the canal. I got something, and had diarrhea for two weeks. I missed out on a lot in the last week from illness. And there was almost nothing for me to eat apart from bread. The kiddos were gifting me their water. And we ran out of toilet paper. One day all I ate was a piece of bread and a potato. I got pretty weak. But I'm better now. All is well.
I dare say that I did well on Mes de Misión. I learned pretty quickly. If I had a second chance, I'd work harder, be a little more patient, and my spanish would be better. I would always motivate specific individuals based on their personalities, rather than making blanket statements to everyone. I would do a better job getting to know each of them, asking them more questions about their lives. I would seek out more opportunities to help without being asked, a current goal of mine right now. But I think I did well, especially for a first try.
Let me back up a sec. I felt comfortable just being myself. In fact. It was the first time I felt really comfortable being myself in this country. With all the experience of culture shock and getting incredibly sick all the time, I had felt for so long just dampened. The peruvians thought I was serious. I don't exactly know what it was, probably just the beauty of time, but I felt comfortable, alive, and able for the first time in country. And it was really good, really good.
I am very grateful to be back in Tacna now, with running water that doesn't get cut off all the time, food, drink, a shower, a space for myself away from children. I am incredibly grateful for the JV's with whom I have journeyed so far. I know Mes de Mision would have been much more tiring and frustrating without them. I am grateful for my host family and the ability to talk again with my own family back home. It is kind of bizarre, feeling like Tacna is a home to me, when I am on the brink of leaving this place for Andahuaylillas. But that is the reality of a JV, as Seamus reminded me. You are asked to build relationships, though you will leave them. Plant seeds that one day will grow, as Oscar Romero said. Now I just hope and trust that something, and someone, will grow.
Amen.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
happy new.... what?!
A rushed reflection, for now, because I am about to go on Mes de Mision, the month-long service trip with the students at Miguel Pro. I´ll have no access to internet or phones, so I won´t be able to talk until February. BUT, you are in my thoughts and prayers. Truly.
The turn on the new year was, well, insane. I´ll make this short and sweet. I went to the beach with the host family. We just chilled most of the day, and then at night the girls (me, Stephanie, Edda, and Nitza), went to a nearby beach to party with friends. BUT, my host sister and cousins demanded that I dress up like the Peruvians do. I told them I didn´t bring any nice clothes, so they dressed me up in theirs. It was a 3 v. 1 situation. Then they assured me that there would be a lot of girls wearing less clothes than I was... Cheers to cultural experiences?! It wasn´t that bad (because I made them give me leggings), but then I went to Cesar´s house where some other volunteers were spending the new year. We ran to the shore before midnight, and. it. was. insane. I thought Christmas was crazy?! There were fireworks everywhere, big ones, small ones, one that looked like it hit a house. People were lighting stuff on fire everywhere. Popping champagne bottles. Eating 12 grapes with 12 wishes. Wearing yellow undies for good luck. And putting a mixture of corn, lentils, rice, and some other stuff I don´t really know about in their pockets for good times. Peruvians beat Americans by far in how they party. Damn. We went back and I tried some cow heart. Nom nom nom. Played some flip cup, walked around, tried to get into the club for free but didn´t manage it, and then the hole in my mouth where my wisdom tooth used to be started hurting, so I went back home EARLY at around 4:30 or 5am. Spent the first of the year on the beach shores, sunkissed under the strong Tacna sun.
2010 was a big year for me. I graduated from LMU, I made some good, lasting decisions for myself, I moved to Peru. And now begins 2011 in Peru. To hope. To peace. To love.
Every time I look at the night sky, I look for Orian first. Though the night sky is different here, I can still see Orian. Look to the heavens, and we look together.
The turn on the new year was, well, insane. I´ll make this short and sweet. I went to the beach with the host family. We just chilled most of the day, and then at night the girls (me, Stephanie, Edda, and Nitza), went to a nearby beach to party with friends. BUT, my host sister and cousins demanded that I dress up like the Peruvians do. I told them I didn´t bring any nice clothes, so they dressed me up in theirs. It was a 3 v. 1 situation. Then they assured me that there would be a lot of girls wearing less clothes than I was... Cheers to cultural experiences?! It wasn´t that bad (because I made them give me leggings), but then I went to Cesar´s house where some other volunteers were spending the new year. We ran to the shore before midnight, and. it. was. insane. I thought Christmas was crazy?! There were fireworks everywhere, big ones, small ones, one that looked like it hit a house. People were lighting stuff on fire everywhere. Popping champagne bottles. Eating 12 grapes with 12 wishes. Wearing yellow undies for good luck. And putting a mixture of corn, lentils, rice, and some other stuff I don´t really know about in their pockets for good times. Peruvians beat Americans by far in how they party. Damn. We went back and I tried some cow heart. Nom nom nom. Played some flip cup, walked around, tried to get into the club for free but didn´t manage it, and then the hole in my mouth where my wisdom tooth used to be started hurting, so I went back home EARLY at around 4:30 or 5am. Spent the first of the year on the beach shores, sunkissed under the strong Tacna sun.
2010 was a big year for me. I graduated from LMU, I made some good, lasting decisions for myself, I moved to Peru. And now begins 2011 in Peru. To hope. To peace. To love.
Every time I look at the night sky, I look for Orian first. Though the night sky is different here, I can still see Orian. Look to the heavens, and we look together.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, December 20, 2010
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.
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.
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