Peruvian Baby Hayden

I recently learned that in Cabracancha, where I teach my Pasos class, a woman recently gave birth and decided to name her daughter after me.  Apparently it is still sort of pending because the father isn’t around and they have to wait till he gets back and approves the name.  Either way, I was incredibly touched by that, but I’m a little concerned for this girl because no one is ever going to be able to say her name. I was asked by the health post nurse, Eli (pronounced Ellie), to write my name down so she could tell the mom how to spell it.  The whole thing was really sweet and I am really really flattered.  It makes me feel appreciated and honored in a way I can’t really articulate!   

Pasos Adelante Conference and a Death Declaration

Last week ended with a Pasos Adelante conference, which completely sapped me of all my energy.  I think that had something to do with the fact that I slept two nights in a dorm room packed full of teenage girls.  I had a little bit more sympathy for my mom when she would come downstairs glaring daggers and tell me and the rest of my sleepover party to KEEP IT DOWN.  Pretty sure it was made worse by the fact that these were girls from the campo, used to getting up early in the morning and helping their moms.  5:00 am came around and girls were up chatting, giggling, showering, hair-braiding, and playing music.  I am confident Peace Corps would have kicked me out if I had brutally murdered a room of Peruvian teenagers.  The volunteers settled for more peaceful measures, like “WE’RE STILL SLEEPING! SHUT UP!”  

What exactly is a Pasos Adelante conference?  Good question.  Each volunteer in Cajamarca who had a Pasos Adelante class, the class I’ve been teaching about life skills and sexual education aimed at preventing HIV/AIDS and teen pregnancy, could bring 2-3 of their students.  These students are ultimately going to be “PEPs”, which stands for Promotores Educadores Pares, which is essentially Peer Educator Promoters, or something along those lines.  They will continue to work with volunteers to train their peers in sex education and other health promotion activities.  The conference was geared towards giving them tools they need to be good health promoters, how to plan a project and think about root causes of health problems in order to combat them, how to use non-formal education, how to teach good sessions, or “charlas”, facts about teen pregnancy in Cajamarca, and a ton of other things.  I brought two of my students, Greysey and Yulesi.  They made me super super proud all weekend long.  They were well behaved, they always sat in the front row, they worked so hard, they participated, and they learned a lot.  I’m really glad that I brought them. 

(L-R) Yulesi, Me, and Greysey after they received their participation certificates!! 

The great part about the Pasos Adelante conference, other than how awesome my kids did, was that it was the first we have ever had in the north of Cajamarca and we had a lot of participation from the RED and DISA of Chota, who are essentially the administrative bigshots in healthcare in our region.  It was great to collaborate with them on something, and our conference just happened to fall on the month the Ministry of Health has dedicated to adolescents.  Nice touch.  It was great to see my kids get motivated by the conference and also feel special to be there.  I think it was a unique opportunity for them to meet kids from other parts of their department as well.  I’m glad we did it and I hope we do it again next year. 

So I finished that conference totally burnt out.  I headed back up to Iraca ready to sleep until Christmas.  I was hanging out outside chatting with Celina, who was literally just standing outside watching the sky and complaining that the rain hadn’t come yet.  Truth be told, I really wanted the rain to come for the people in my town.  Everyone was waiting for the rain to plant their corn and I was worried we were seeing some impact of global warming…which of course spiraled me off into terror that what if it eventually stops raining in Cajamarca and no one in my town can survive anymore because they can’t grow their crops?  Overreaction, but I did want the rain, for their sake.  For me, however, I was pumped that the rain was holding off.  I’m not looking forward to six months straight of rain again.  I can’t forget how desperate I felt for sunshine during those first six months of service, and how completely perfect any day with a little bit of sun was.  That was a horribly structured sentence…

While chatting with Celina, Mishel came up behind me and started darting from side to side while I kept looking over both shoulders.  I finally turned around to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, and TOBY BIT ME.  My family’s dog BIT me.  Awesome.  My first dog bite.  Granted, it wasn’t hard though it has bruised a bit.  At least he didn’t break the skin.  This little moment was followed by the announcement that Chihuahua has finally given birth to her puppies. 

“Guess how many there are.” Celina growled.

“Five?” I have no idea how many puppies dogs usually have…especially not malnourished and poorly treated dogs…

“EIGHT.”

“…wow.”

“I’m going to kill her.” Celina stated frankly, then did the ever cliché finger across the neck move.”

I just stared at her wide-eyed.  I must have somehow misinterpreted all of that…

“You’re what?”

“I’m going to kill her.  She eats all the chicken eggs, she’s a bad dog, and I don’t want anymore puppies.”

I just stared at her wide-eyed.

“Oh.”

“I’ve never had a female dog.  I only like boy dogs.”

…well maybe she should have thought of that before she brought Chihuahua home from Chota?

“Um…couldn’t you just get her fixed or something?”

“There are pills that can kill her.  Or I can just hit her really hard over the head.”

“Oh.”

Yet another moment where I started thinking about how angry PETA members would be at the people in my town.

The Essence of my Peace Corps Experience

In March, or maybe April, I hit a hard wall in my Peace Corps service while on vacation during Semana Santa at one of the most beautiful beaches on the planet with alcoholic slushies available for just a glimpse at my wrist band (until I checked out, of course).  I should have been super happy to finally get out of site after months, to get some sun after 6 months of constant rain, to see other volunteers that I hadn't seen since November.  It wasn't like that.  I ended up sitting in a pile of sand in the dark, getting eaten alive by some sort of awful sand bug, and calling my big brother.  It was the first time I ever said, "I want to go home." It was also the only time I've ever really meant it. Up until that point, I'd tried really hard to put on a brave face, to be the Peace Corps volunteer I envisioned myself to be, and to keep my chin up when I talked to my older brothers.  I wanted them to be proud of me and a part of me thought that Jamey would be way better at being a volunteer than I was.  

Jamey told me a lot of things.  I think I took him a little off-guard with the phone call.  One of the things he said was that being in your 20s after college sucks.  There are plenty of fun parts about it, but there is a ton of growing up that has to be done and it happens slowly and super painfully.  He told me I was just doing it all at super speed.  I was going through that decade of growing up in two years instead.  At the time, I didn't really know how I felt about that explanation, but regardless, he convinced me to stay.

Since then, I've definitely said, "I want to go home" again, but the only time I really meant it was when I knew my dog was going to die.  I wanted to be there for her, for my mom, and for a friend who's life had taken a rough turn and needed support.  That time, however, I didn't mean go home for good, just to visit.  And in moments of hardship or sadness or whatever, I've said it, but I haven't really meant it, more that it would be WAYYYYYY easier if I was home than dealing with this crap right now.

The essence of Peace Corps...I think has a lot to do with what my brother said, that Peace Corps provides the opportunity for accelerated growth, which can be so painful, but is fundamentally a good thing.  We also battle with all sorts of realities that aren't normal, like, for example, how I feel like I am part of a poor rural community in the middle of the Andes, but I have a Yale education and a much more comfortable life I'm still holding onto in the States.  I have to struggle with the shame and guilt of the relief I feel that I don't have to stay here forever.

But then there are all these other challenges, defeating moments, homesickness, anxiety, confusion, and constant battles to feel like the same intelligent person I was when I left the States.  I have to remind myself that just because I'm functioning in another language, in another culture, doing things I've never done, it doesn't make me stupid, it just makes everything harder.  Peace Corps service has pushed me so far out my comfort zone that I had to build a new comfort zone.  It seems that every time I get comfortable, something comes crashing down and I have to rebuild myself back up again.  But in the middle of all that mayhem, all that destruction and reconstruction, I'm rebuilding myself into someone better.  I am adding something that makes me stronger, more resilient, more competent, braver.  It's maddening, but there is one quote I have on my wall that keeps me sane.  It is the essence of my Peace Corps service:

“The truth is that our finest moments are most likely to occur when we are feeling deeply uncomfortable, unhappy, or unfulfilled. For it is only in such moments, propelled by our discomfort, that we are likely to step out of our ruts and start searching for different ways or truer answers.”

It's so insanely true.  Every time something comes crashing down, I'm dazed and frustrated for a little while, and then I start making lists and finding ways to move forward and the end result is always better than where I was before.  That quote keeps me sane.  Fundamentally, it's something we've all heard before, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger."  We all know that quote, but I have never continuously experienced the truth of that statement in my life like I have in Peace Corps.  It reminds me that in all the adversity I experience, I have to look for the good, for the new strength. 

Right now, I'm in a rebuilding stage.  All the recent struggles I've had have lit a fire under my ass and got me moving like never before and I'm feeling really proud of the progress!