I am currently in a little internet cafe about three blocks from the Salud Communitario Training Center (that is Community Health Training Center). I just had my second real day of training for the Peace Corps, or Cuerpo de Paz as we call ourselves here. In a word? exhausting. Things have been crazy since I landed in Peru...
When we landed and were waiting to exit the plane, a woman and her husband were sitting in the row in front of me in a sea of Peace Corps volunteers (there are 64 total in all of my Peru 18 training class). They were peruvian, and asked in spanglish why there were so many people of the same age on the plane. Were we a group? Julianne, one of my training class, explained to them in spanish that we were here with el Cuerpo de Paz como voluntarios for two years. The two of them gasped, and the little old man put a hand to his chest and thanked us so sincerely. His wife chimed in too and they thanked us repeatedly for coming to their country. Not a bad way to start off my time in Peru.
We went through the whole customs thing, got our luggage, and then we all piled on two separate buses to drive to the retreat center about an hour outside Lima. We got to the retreat center at about 1 am. We trucked all our crap down to a little storage room and kept a backpack with us. They then brought us to the cafeteria for a sandwich and some tea, and then sent us off to bed. I ended up rooming with a girl name Annie who is from Simsbury, Connecticut go figure. She´s an environmental volunteer so I am not going to end up seeing her much, which is a bit of a bummer because we really bonded during our stay at the retreat center. We stayed in the building called Santiago, in room 12. It was a tiny square room with two little cot beds and a bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink. I enjoyed my last hot shower for a long time.
The next day and a half, we sat through a lot of charlas (chats) about medical and security stuff, and participated in a lot of silly ice breaker activities. When med and the environment programs separated to get to know our staff, we ended up doing a lot of dancing and silly activities, while the environmental volunteers apparently had the crap scared out of them. That night, one of the Peru 18ers lead a belly dancing class, and a bunch of us gave it a go, while getting eaten ALIVE by these little things that look like harmless gnats, but BITE. Not tooo pleasant.
Next morning, they split up environment and health and bused us to our separate training centers. We got there and our host families were waiting for us. When I met my host mom, Rosa, (she´s about 4´9¨ probably) she goes ´´Oh, so I get the smallest one¨ hahahha Cesaer, my host dad, was there to pick me up also, and we got in their tiny beat up little blue car, and drove around the corner to a store to pick up a trash can for my toilet paper in what would soon be my bathroom. I felt pretty awkward wandering around in the store after here, a GIGANTIC gringa shadow. Lets be real, people stared. I also just felt awkward in general because I hadn´t really adjusted well to speaking spanish. Plus, the traffic here doesn´t lend itself to understanding anyone.
We drove home to this lovely little house, and I met my host sisters, Shayla (26) and Angela (22), our three little rat dogs, our parrot, our two little birds, our rooster, and our chickens. We sat down in the living room and enjoyed a really long chat. They made me feel immediately comfortable, and I discovered that I was their fifth volunteer. I got a nice little room all to myself, in a little building across from the main part of the house, with my own bathroom just a small walk outside from my door.
I was really pleasantly surprised by my host dad. He was in the Peruvian Navy back in the day and now works with solar powered lighthouses I believe. I didn´t know how i would deal with the machismo dynamic common in peruvian households, but he made an effort to tell me how much he loved his wife and how well he knew that nothing would function without her in the home. He is also extremely affectionate with her all the time, in public and in the home, and has been so invested in learning from me and talking with me about my home. He was ecstatic to see the photo of a light house in the calendar of New Hampshire that I gave him. I decided not to explain that New Hampshire has about a foot of coast. I have also really bonded with my host sister, Shayla, who is always chatting with me and helping me when I stumble a little over spanish words, but I feel like I am adjusting really well.
I will fill in more when I can, but I need to head home before it gets dark. Love you all!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Safely Landed
I just wanted to post quickly and let you all know that I made it safely to Peru! We got in at 1 am last night (2 am home time) absolutely exhausted. We are finally here at a little retreat center for today and half of tomorrow, and then our host families show up and we are off to our new homes for the next 10 weeks. I have already begun to adore all my fellow Peace Corps volunteers, and have been so enthusiastically welcomed by all the Peace Corps training staff. Everyone is so down to earth, so fun, and so kind. I can't believe how at home I feel with them all already.
I know things are going to get harder and I'm not going to be with all these people forever during my service, but I can't even believe how happy I am right now. I'm so excited about all of this, a little anxious about how I'm going to make a difference, but so content and confident and comfortable. Que suerte!
Love you all. I'll give you a longer update on all my adventures once I have purchased a power cord adapter for the outlets here!
xo
I know things are going to get harder and I'm not going to be with all these people forever during my service, but I can't even believe how happy I am right now. I'm so excited about all of this, a little anxious about how I'm going to make a difference, but so content and confident and comfortable. Que suerte!
Love you all. I'll give you a longer update on all my adventures once I have purchased a power cord adapter for the outlets here!
xo
Saturday, September 10, 2011
"Spelunking"
I have realized how bad I've been at including peace corps details about new information and such, and I will do all in my power to rectify that situation in the next couple of days. I suppose it's lacking presence is due mostly to the fact that there really isn't that much to tell. One detail I can fill you in on, is that my training class for when I get to Peru is called Peru 18, we have about 67 people in the training class, and we have a facebook group. Everyone seems amazing so far, and we've all been posting about how terribly our spanish interviews went on the phone, asking packing and planning questions, posting dates for the various concerts that will be in Lima while we are there (pearl jam, damian marley, and performing the day before I take an oath to protect and uphold the US constitution - Britney, bitch) and generally just getting straight up excited. It's been helpful and exciting and anxiety reducing. All good things.
STORY TIME
Today, our little post-happy group provided some general amusement, which was far too good not to share. I went onto our group this evening and one of the other volunteers had posted, "Spelunking? Who's down?" He posted a photo of himself with a headlamp on his head and the light turned on. I copied the photo off our site and pasted it below:
I don't know about you, but I have never heard the term "spelunking". It sounded like something you'd see on urban dictionary. I couldn't help my curiosity, so I went on google and just typed in "spelunking". The second website in the list that popped up was urban dictionary, and since I sort of assumed it was an urban dictionary type thing, I read the definition which said the following: "the act of exploring for the missing condom after deep penetration." hahahahahahahaha with the headlamp hahahahah I laughed so hard.
I figured since the group is guarded and no one would actually post a picture of themselves for that I found the merriam-webster dictionary definition, which said " the hobby or practice of exploring caves". Well, we can certainly see where the slang came from. Still. HILARIOUS. ...and for whatever reason, being someone who never particularly suffered from shyness, I sent him a facebook message and told him what had happened because I thought he shouldn't miss a good laugh.
I wish I could post the picture of him in the headlamp bahahahah
STORY TIME
Today, our little post-happy group provided some general amusement, which was far too good not to share. I went onto our group this evening and one of the other volunteers had posted, "Spelunking? Who's down?" He posted a photo of himself with a headlamp on his head and the light turned on. I copied the photo off our site and pasted it below:
I don't know about you, but I have never heard the term "spelunking". It sounded like something you'd see on urban dictionary. I couldn't help my curiosity, so I went on google and just typed in "spelunking". The second website in the list that popped up was urban dictionary, and since I sort of assumed it was an urban dictionary type thing, I read the definition which said the following: "the act of exploring for the missing condom after deep penetration." hahahahahahahaha with the headlamp hahahahah I laughed so hard.
I figured since the group is guarded and no one would actually post a picture of themselves for that I found the merriam-webster dictionary definition, which said " the hobby or practice of exploring caves". Well, we can certainly see where the slang came from. Still. HILARIOUS. ...and for whatever reason, being someone who never particularly suffered from shyness, I sent him a facebook message and told him what had happened because I thought he shouldn't miss a good laugh.
I wish I could post the picture of him in the headlamp bahahahah
Monday, September 5, 2011
My favorite Prayer
I'm up at Karonoko, have been for the long weekend. I got lucky and we found a time for me to come up here one last weekend before I leave. I've had a great time, and I'll update more later, but there was something specific I wanted to post now.
At my family place in Maine, affectionately called Karonoko (the name has a story), there is a little building near the driveway. There are three doors all in a row into the little building. The first door on the left goes into a room called the "Chinese Room". I used to think whoever named it must be a racist because it's a bathroom (not that I had any reason to believe I had racist family members). A while ago, my theory was proved false when I finally dared to ask the question, "Why do we call it the Chinese room?" Turns out that the red paint used on the trim, the door to the actual toilet, and the random bureau were all painted with a color called "China Red". So hurrah, I'm not related to a racist.
That was a little detour to the point of this. Inside the bathroom, inside the red door there is just a toilet, some TP, a tiny shelf, a bunch of books, and some glade spray. Book titles include the following:
Live and Learn and Pass It On: People ages 5 to 95 share what they've discovered about life, love, and other good stuff
Dog Farts written by Herbert I. Kavet, illustrated by Martin Riskin (I've never looked in that book but I'm suddenly very curious)
The Great American Bathroom Book II: more single-sitting summaries of All-Time great books (There is more than one volume of the Great American Bathroom book?)
Outhouses of the East ('nough said)
Sit Free or Die by M.J. Beagle (For those of you not from New Hampshire, our state motto is "Live Free or Die", and the cover of this interestingly titled novella is an outhouse)
In addition to all these interesting books, there are four posters on the walls of this tiny little 4x5 foot room (and that's generous). There is a painting of a dog wearing a top hat, which I think is supposed to be of a dog my grandparents used to have, there is an incredibly long poem called "Passing of the Back-House" by James Whitcomb Riley, which I've read snippets of many a time as it is conveniently hung right next to the toilet paper. Behind the toilet is a weird old map of the Passamaquoddy Bay and Fundy Isles, which I'm guessing are somewhere in Maine. But finally, there is, hung in a birch bark frame, a kind of prayer written on birch bark paper in black pen. I must admit, I've read it many times, spending more time than necessary in this tiny little bathroom because I love it so much. I've spent forever trying to remind myself to write it down so I can have it with me, and I just keep forgetting. Well, I don't have time to forget again, so here I am, and I'm going to write it down for myself and anyone who cares to read it. It's simple, and beautiful, and thoughtful.
God of the Hills, grant us thy strength to go back into the cities without faltering; strength to do our daily task without tiring and with enthusiasm; strength to help our neighbors who have no hills to remember.
God of the Lakes, grant us they peace and thy restfulness; peace to bring into the world of hurry and confusion, restfulness to carry to the tired whom we shall meet everyday; content to do small things with a freedom from littleness; self control for the unexpected emergency and patience for the wearisome task; with the deep depths within our souls to bear us through the crowded places. Grant us the hush of the night when the pine trees are dark against the skyline; the humbleness of the hills who in their mightiness know it not, and the laughter of the sunny waves to brighten the cheerless spots of a long winter.
Got of the Stars, may we take back the gifts of friendship and of love for all. Fill us with great tenderness for the needy person at every turning. Grant that in all of our perplexities and every day decisions, we may keep an open mind.
God of the Wilderness, with thy pure winds from the Northland, blow away our pettiness, with the harsher winds of winter, drive away our selfishness and hypocrisy; fill us with the breadth and the depth and the height of thy wilderness. That we live out the truths which thou hast taught us in every thought, word and deed.
Amen.
I think what I love so much about this prayer is that all the things that it prays for are the things that I get from being up here and hope so badly to hold on to when I leave. I always take a last minute run to the Chinese Room before I get in the car for the four hour drive home, and it's one of the last things that I see. This place helps me find my center, helps me slough off all excess that I've inadvertently collected just from being out in the world and allows me to relocate the best parts of myself grounded in love and family and shaped by a minimalist understanding that those two things are really all I need and are all that matter. The prayer is just a more drawn out way of articulating the same prayer I make every time I leave here, which is fundamentally, "please let me hold on to the peace and contentedness I found here, and the perspective I have to accompany it."
amen. :)
At my family place in Maine, affectionately called Karonoko (the name has a story), there is a little building near the driveway. There are three doors all in a row into the little building. The first door on the left goes into a room called the "Chinese Room". I used to think whoever named it must be a racist because it's a bathroom (not that I had any reason to believe I had racist family members). A while ago, my theory was proved false when I finally dared to ask the question, "Why do we call it the Chinese room?" Turns out that the red paint used on the trim, the door to the actual toilet, and the random bureau were all painted with a color called "China Red". So hurrah, I'm not related to a racist.
That was a little detour to the point of this. Inside the bathroom, inside the red door there is just a toilet, some TP, a tiny shelf, a bunch of books, and some glade spray. Book titles include the following:
Live and Learn and Pass It On: People ages 5 to 95 share what they've discovered about life, love, and other good stuff
Dog Farts written by Herbert I. Kavet, illustrated by Martin Riskin (I've never looked in that book but I'm suddenly very curious)
The Great American Bathroom Book II: more single-sitting summaries of All-Time great books (There is more than one volume of the Great American Bathroom book?)
Outhouses of the East ('nough said)
Sit Free or Die by M.J. Beagle (For those of you not from New Hampshire, our state motto is "Live Free or Die", and the cover of this interestingly titled novella is an outhouse)
In addition to all these interesting books, there are four posters on the walls of this tiny little 4x5 foot room (and that's generous). There is a painting of a dog wearing a top hat, which I think is supposed to be of a dog my grandparents used to have, there is an incredibly long poem called "Passing of the Back-House" by James Whitcomb Riley, which I've read snippets of many a time as it is conveniently hung right next to the toilet paper. Behind the toilet is a weird old map of the Passamaquoddy Bay and Fundy Isles, which I'm guessing are somewhere in Maine. But finally, there is, hung in a birch bark frame, a kind of prayer written on birch bark paper in black pen. I must admit, I've read it many times, spending more time than necessary in this tiny little bathroom because I love it so much. I've spent forever trying to remind myself to write it down so I can have it with me, and I just keep forgetting. Well, I don't have time to forget again, so here I am, and I'm going to write it down for myself and anyone who cares to read it. It's simple, and beautiful, and thoughtful.
God of the Hills, grant us thy strength to go back into the cities without faltering; strength to do our daily task without tiring and with enthusiasm; strength to help our neighbors who have no hills to remember.
God of the Lakes, grant us they peace and thy restfulness; peace to bring into the world of hurry and confusion, restfulness to carry to the tired whom we shall meet everyday; content to do small things with a freedom from littleness; self control for the unexpected emergency and patience for the wearisome task; with the deep depths within our souls to bear us through the crowded places. Grant us the hush of the night when the pine trees are dark against the skyline; the humbleness of the hills who in their mightiness know it not, and the laughter of the sunny waves to brighten the cheerless spots of a long winter.
Got of the Stars, may we take back the gifts of friendship and of love for all. Fill us with great tenderness for the needy person at every turning. Grant that in all of our perplexities and every day decisions, we may keep an open mind.
God of the Wilderness, with thy pure winds from the Northland, blow away our pettiness, with the harsher winds of winter, drive away our selfishness and hypocrisy; fill us with the breadth and the depth and the height of thy wilderness. That we live out the truths which thou hast taught us in every thought, word and deed.
Amen.
I think what I love so much about this prayer is that all the things that it prays for are the things that I get from being up here and hope so badly to hold on to when I leave. I always take a last minute run to the Chinese Room before I get in the car for the four hour drive home, and it's one of the last things that I see. This place helps me find my center, helps me slough off all excess that I've inadvertently collected just from being out in the world and allows me to relocate the best parts of myself grounded in love and family and shaped by a minimalist understanding that those two things are really all I need and are all that matter. The prayer is just a more drawn out way of articulating the same prayer I make every time I leave here, which is fundamentally, "please let me hold on to the peace and contentedness I found here, and the perspective I have to accompany it."
amen. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)