History

Happy belated Valentine`s Day!

A very wise man, dear friend and adopted big brother once told me that my second month abroad would be the hardest. Now, while I`ve been in Perù for longer than that (my god! 5 months now!), February is my second month alone in site and I am struggling through it. Much of my time is spent thinking about home - how amazing washing machines are, how nice it is to be able to just hop in the car - any car - and go, the mind boggling variety of food and the ease of getting that food, what I`m going to do for a job, how I will spend time with family and friends, where I`m going to live. In short, how things are going to be when I get back. Its a good thing February is a short month!

I still have moments where I am torn, floating, not sure where to settle. While I`m making progress here, this still isn`t home, but neither is Colorado anymore.

I´m still knitting my heart out and 6 scarves later, I´m getting ready to branch off into things with a little shape. Like hats. And, once I find a pattern I like and buy the supplies, I´m going to learn to crochet my very own afghan. I´m not going to pretend that the thought hasn´t crossed my mind that I will make a handful of afghans which will become treasured family heirlooms. Of course, the first one might be the last and I´ll pay the ladies here to me me a handful (the truth is, I already have one on the way).

I continue to amaze myself at how long I can really go without bathing. When once 2 days without a shower was 1 day too long, my average is now around 7 days. Boiling the water to take to the Health Post so I don´t have to shower in 50 degree water is a hassel and uses a lot of gas on my stove. And, really, why bath when, even at 7 days, I smell better than most of the people around me? That is not to say, however, that I don´t take full and frequent advantage of a good hot shower when I can get one!

Things with my host family have not improved much, unfortunately. I thought we had a break through the other day when Doña Chavela asked me to help her cook something different for her family for dinner. We cooked tomato sauce with carrots and onions for their noodles. They didn´t like it. Maybe it was a bit too strange to them to begin with. At times, I get the feeling that they see me as a stubborn cash register that only wants a little more coxing (i.e. whining) to spring open and shower money everywhere. A large part of this - asking for things and the whining - is part of the culture. They do it to each other constantly. Still, I find it offensive and have decided to work my relationship with them as a business relationship only. There are other families that I can bond with (Natalie´s host family, Don Crispin and Doña Paulina - for one) and I continue to strengthen my friendships with the nurses at the Health Post.

A little on the history of Jocos. The story goes that the name comes from the sound cattle make when they are walking in mud (which there is a lot of during the rainy season) - as their feet sink into the mud it makes a "ho" sound and as their feet come out of the mud it makes a "coes" sound. So you have Jocos!
In the 70´s, Jocos had a thriving and rather famous dairy. The cheese, milk and manjar blanco (a caramel-like sweet) coming out of Jocos is rumored to have some of the best. But then the terrorists moved in. They took control of the dairy and the community, killing a lot of people. Jocos has never recovered. The dairy - or Hacienda - sits mostly in decay, though some rooms are still used as classrooms. Its is still beautiful, though! The barracks and feeding stalls and cattle runs are all still there. As are the rock walls and gateways indicating the outlying pastuer lands. These are now used as farmland. An attempt was made - with a lot of help from Natalie - to get the Hacienda up and running again. Unfortunately, the attempt failed - I think the memory of the terrorist´s actions is still too fresh. A couple of people have broached the subject of trying again with me so perhaps they are ready for the Hacienda again.

Thanks to everyone for all your support over the last few months! You have no idea what your emails and comments mean to me!

Its A Doozy!

I`m not sure if thats how one spells "doozy", but I haven`t communicated in English for several days now so cut me some slack!

The settling in continues. Actually, physically I`m pretty settled in - that has been by far the easiest part of all this. Emotionally, every day is better. The thing I struggle with the most is feeling like I`m not doing enough - which translates into feeling guilty. Guilt that I haven`t started any major projects yet (even though the first 3 months are supposed to be just settling in), guilt when I leave Jocos, guilt that I`m not studying my Spanish every night, guilt that I spend the occasional day in my room reading. I know these aren`t things to feel guilty about, but thats what I do - feel guilty about things. Anything. Everything. I even feel guilty about Jocos getting electricity (which we are getting within the next couple of months! Woohoo! All the lightpoles have arrived and the holes have been dug for them.). These people have worked so hard for this. They have petitioned, sold crops, and cleared groves of eucalyptus to raise the money. And waited. I have done nothing of the sort. But I am going to reap the benefits (there might even be a blender in my future!). I`m not even sure I`m properly excited about it. This will change the town, but for me, not having electricity is just an inconvienence I had resigned myself to for the next 2 years. In Jocos, it will change how the community and, more importantly, the families, function. Suddenly, there will be more time in the day for work and play.

By far, the hardest day for me is the day before a trip - to Lluchubamba, to Cajabamba or further. These days are full of anticipation - so full that I sometimes find it next to impossible not to leave early. Trips mean contact with family and friends - English contact. Trips mean a break from the responsibilities (Kìon) and pressures (living in a fish bowl with everyone watching and talking about me). Trips mean a reaffirmation that I can do this, that I am doing this.

The BBC has become an intregal part of my morning routine. Over a cup of tea (or a cuppa, if you will), I listen to the world news and various pieces on various subjects. While I appreciate the news, the vast majority of it goes in one ear and out the other. The commentaries, however, always have my attention. I listen hungrily as the voices on the radio discuss the reality or not of coincidence, the usefulness of music charts, the state of life in this or that remote region (remoter even than I am - imagine that! Talk about getting some perspective!) or the nature of the fleas of the world (my next closest companions behind the dogs). These editiorials give me much needed conversation on things other than Peace Corps gossip, home or bowl movements. Even if I`m not part of the conversation or having one with myself. I listen raptly, hungrily and selfishly (much like I will sit down to my first crab dinner in 2 years upon my return to The States). They give me a better feel for the pulse of the world at large than the numbers and forgien names scrolling out of the shortwave.

My other media is books and CDs. The popular music here - call Huayno (whine-o) is less than applealing as it sounds like whining (at least to me - Peruvians love it). Needless to say, other than the BBC, I don`t listen to much radio so CDs keep me (and Kìon, much to his dismay) dancing. As for books - I have read several over the past couple of months but the ones that rise to the top are:
Still Life With Woodpecker by Tom Robbins
My Uncle Oswald by Roald Dahl (I also love his childrens books - The BFG, Charlie and The Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach)
Haroun and the Sea of Stories by Salman Rushdie
I reccomend them all highly!

And speaking of bowl movements (this is a Peace Corps volunteer`s blog, after all, and it would not be complete without at least touching on the subject. I will, however, save the gory details for other PCVs.). I am as healthy as I can be. Healthier, in fact. I have, so far, avoided any major tummy ailments (the biggest problem for volunteers) and those I have suffered from were nothing a handful of Pepto, a little hot tea and some time in the latrine couldn`t handle. I am eating well - getting all my veggies (maybe not in the greatest variety, but still) and more fruit than I have ever eaten before (my favorites? mangos, plums and granadills - a passionfruit hybrid I think). I`m getting plenty of exercise as I walk everywhere and everywhere is a hike. I also go for an official hike (or paseo) every day. This serves several purposes. It gets me out of the house, exercises Kìon and gets my gringa butt seen by people. At this rate, I`ll be bounding up 14ers like a friggin` mountain goat!

(Sorry to those of you who don`t give a crap - no pun intended! - about my bowl movements, eating habits or exercises routine. That was mostly for my family)

Integrating with my host family has been more difficult than eating well. While they are friendly enough, they remain closed to me - for a combination of reasons, I think. They seem to be fairly closed in general. They don`t socialize with the community the way the other people in Jocos do (I never see my host mom sitting on the corner in the evenings gossiping with the other women, nor do I ever see my host dad enjoying a beer or chica with the other men nor do the children ever really play with the rest of the kids.). The other obstacle is the language. They just aren`t sure what to do with someone who has a, at best, remedial grasp of their language. It can be frustrating for both sides of a conversation, but I feel it most when they about about me and my lack of language right in front of me (they haven`t yet figured out that I understand way more than I speak) or when they compare me to Natalie. I haven`t yet figured out what I`m going to do about the situation, but I have a couple options. I can move or I can keep trying to connect with them for a while longer. I think I will go that route. I`m not ready to give up on it just yet.

On the other hand, I am making some friends in Jocos. Miriam (a nurse at the Health Post) is fast becoming one of my best Peruvian friends. She is warm, fun (we can even joke with each other despite my limited vocabulary) and beyond patient with my endless questions on how to say things (she often has to endlessly repeat words that I have forgotten). Many of my afternoons are spent sitting with her at the Health Post talking and knitting. The other nurse is also becoming a good friend. Reina (Rain-a) is more reserved than Miriam, but her heart is just a big and she is just as patient with my language ability. In fact, patience is one of the main qualities I look for in friends right now!

For those of you wondering how the puppy is doing, he is doing well. Healthy and happy. As stressful as he is, he has become as much of a joy. His antics keep me smiling - most of the time. The house training has gone well - at least in my house. He now scratches at the door to be let out. Now if I can just get him to whine rather than scratch. . .
I`ve started teaching him to shake - in Spanish (dame la mano). Even though I consider this a useless trick, the Peruvians love it so I`ll teach it to him. I doubt I`ll translate it into English, though.

Oh! And, for those of you who made it through all that, I`ve opened the blog up to postings so feel free to make comments if you would like. As long as they are flattering, of course! Just kidding! Sort of! :)