Sunday, June 26, 2011

Ode to Peru (and the places you'll go)

Oh, my carelessness, my neglect. Profound apologies to this lonely webpage. One that has documented so many of my journeys, adventures, ups, downs and all-arounds of the past three years of my life in Peru. Now the clock is tick-tocking, and with this impending, inevitable "fin" in sight, I feel I still have some things to say, and that I can't leave with these things left unsaid.

If there was ever a doubt in your mind of my undying passion for food, well, rest assured, I'm obsessed. Recently, I was asked what my favorite things are: Simply put, food is the top of my list. Cooking, experimenting, eating & sharing it. Other high rankers are music/dancing (going hand-in-hand, of course), soaking in the rays of the sun, trying new things, and outdoor activities ~ hiking, skiing and beaching being the favs. Stay tuned for my "Ode to Comida Peruana."

Without a passion for my work, I'm lost. When everything else is falling apart, when parasites are ravaging my tired stomach, when friends leave and chapters end... if I still have my passion for my work, I'm OK. I see this with clarity now. If you're a PCV and your world is upside down, dive in to your work ~ it will probably change your life. And if you don't have work, lord knows I've been there, then reach out to someone who can help you kick-start this thing. Si se puede.

Now we know I love my Southerners, but it just doesn't get better than Peruvian hospitality. "Mi Casa es Tu Casa." Seriously. It's yours if you want it. In all seriousness though, Peruvians bring new meaning to the phrase "sharing is caring." If my host family in Tumpa has 10 people around the table and only one small piece of meat, you can bet that everyone's getting a bite. This morning, a little granny insisted on putting me in a cab, declaring that taxistas are unjust and she wouldn't have me paying more than a centavo too much. In Lima, at "Friends House," the Peace Corps hostal, the owners know all of our names. All of us who have passed through over the years. They know all of our sites. They probably know more than they'd like to, at times. And if it's your birthday, they'll make a huge deal over you with cake or wine. Sometimes cake and wine. Sometimes cake with little mini-beer candles on top. I'm taking this way of hospitality with me, wherever it is I may go.

Oscar Wilde once said, "I can resist anything but temptation." I have identified with and battled against that quote my entire life. Temptation is a dichotomous creature. In so many ways, she can lead you to new, beautiful adventures. Allowing yourself to be temped is taking a risk, and that drives me. When life is easy, I get bored. I just wouldn't be having fun if I weren't taking leaps of faith every now and then. I love trying new things, I love the feeling of adrenaline, and I love that I can continue reinventing myself every day. Living in Peru has allowed me to evolve in ways I couldn't have dreamed. Of course, temptation can be a dark mistress, and she can lead you into some risky business. But one thing's for sure: I'm growing up, I'm making good decisions, and I've got it pretty much under control. Otherwise, I would have gone rogue in the jungle by now.

This one time, I was accused by a community member for being an organ trafficker, and you know what? I might leave this country with my host siblings in my luggage. Maria was 12 ~ TWELVE ~ when I got here. Next month, I'm co-throwing her SIXTEENTH birthday party. Mexican tacos, music, balloons, and 20 of her friends. She's gorgeous and assertive, she's a great student, she's involved in youth groups, and the girl can spike a volleyball. Carlitos is almost two, and if he's within reach of his mama, he is clutching her breast for dear life. Hand down the shirt. His property. Back off, people. Mine. When I manage to pry him away from her, we walk (or run) around the Plaza holding hands. He loves toys, especially his truck that his godfather Rabbit gave him. It's barely recognizable now. Carlitos wasn't even there when I arrived three years ago. My, how my life has changed.

And I leave you, for now, with this last thought: "The only constant is change, continual change, inevitable change." Que Viva.

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