Site

So since I’ve come to site, I’ve been struggling to find a way to make a blog flow the same way as the ones I wrote during training. The truth is since I arrived at my site in Ancash just over 2 weeks ago, my experiences have been intense, random, curious, wonderful, challenging, and above all, totally fragmented. Coming out of training – 3 months of non-stop structure – and finally landing at my site – well the 2 worlds couldn’t be further apart. (Read: And this girl couldn’t be happier).
So I’ll do like I’ve been told in the past: write what I know. I know that I spent the past 2 weeks without a door to my room, and therefore absolutely no privacy. I woke up at 5am every day to wood chopping, crows crowing, family chatting (very loudly), music, and occasionally my host mom standing over my straw-mattress bed – Sophia! - letting me know her plans for the day, or whatever.
And the changes don’t end at the lack of doors and locks. I took my first (of two so far) showers like everybody else - with a big bucket in the middle of the patio in broad daylight. It was a slightly scary and very humbling experience, but at least I caught some rays. When you join the Peace Corps, things change.
I am one of the lucky volunteers with cell phone service, although spotty. I get a signal, but only when I’m on my tippy-toes hanging half-way outside my adobe kitchen window, so if you call and I don’t pick up, it’s because I’m currently not on my tippy-toes hanging outside my kitchen window. Leave a message, I’ll call you back. Actually, I probably won’t, my pocket’s a little light these days.
Lets see… more changes. I now eat guinea pig on a fairly regular basis. If deep-dish is to Chicago, guinea pig is to Ancash. And lucky me – that thing is packed with protein and kind of tasty. Seriously. While we’re on the topic of eating pets… I’m told there is an annual festival on the other side of the mountain where the townspeople slaughter and eat...cats. My host family is playfully threatening to prepare me cat but pretend it’s chicken or duck, and once I’m finished eating my meal, well, the joke will be on me. Mountain humor is somethin’ else.
One of the best parts of these past 2 weeks has simply been catching my breath and letting it all sink in. I’m starting to have those moments – “Oh my god, I’m in the Peace Corps, I’m in Ancash, I’m actually doing this!” – I finally have the time to let these realities sink in. And it feels great.
My host family is wonderful, funny and protective. My host sister is adorable. And my neighbors all seem really nice too. I am primarily partnered with a nurse, Feliciana, a modern and smart young woman – and she’s already really involved in community development. She’s full of ideas for youth development and we have some exciting activities lined up for this month. At the end of this month, we’re going to attend a Peace Corps Training Workshop on youth theatre groups as a way to reinforce leadership and community participation. Obviously I’m thrilled. Things are going well.
It’s one step at a time, and I’m slowly getting integrated – and acclimatized – in this beautiful mountain community that I am so lucky to call my home for the next couple of years.
I joined the Peace Corps because I wanted to experience something radically different than my life in Connecticut and DC, to gain a new perspective, and I’m embracing the changes.
Well, most of them.
Did I mention I have fleas?
Hasta la proxima!

Closer to the Sun

One beautiful day during June of last year, I stepped into the elevator after my very first interview at Peace Corps headquarters in DC, waited until the doors slid shut, and did a little dance for joy. Ever since that first point of contact with Peace Corps, I’ve been imagining – dreaming – of what my site would look like. Would I be in Africa weaving baskets with native tribal women? Would I be living on a remote island in the South Pacific learning an entirely new language? Or would I be on Playa Hermosa in Costa Rica? After 14 months of waiting, my site placement was fished out of my training center’s pool. You heard me. Now lets just back this truck up for one hot minute and clarify a few things. My site was typed on a small piece of paper, rolled up, and tucked inside a blown-up balloon by the controllers of my destiny. The same was done for all 37 of my Peace Corps friends. After these months of anticipations, the Site Placement Ceremony began. One by one we approached the pool and fished out the balloons containing the sites of our friends, and one my one the stars aligned as we discovered our placements throughout Peru. It was a very emotional day in all the best possible ways. Now let me tell you a little bit about my site.

It’s paradise.

For the next 2 years I’ll be a resident in the department of Ancash in the sierra of Peru. Ancash is home to over 70 snow-capped mountains, over 100 crystal blue glacier lagoons, and all the extreme hiking and mountain sports you can dream of. My town is located at the base of Huascaran, the largest snow-capped mountain… in the tropics… in the world. The view is nothing less than spectacular. Less than 3,000 people live in my site, and they all speak Spanish and Quechua, the language of the Incas. The women wear traditional dress – bright colorful skirts paired with stylin’ sombreros. (Pictures to come, I’m totally buying an outfit!)

As a Youth Development Volunteer, I will work with the Health Post, the Municipality and the secondary school in my site on themes like healthy lifestyle development, vocational skills, community involvement and leadership. My work partner is a motivated young nurse who already works with kids in the schools and has tons of great ideas.

I visited my site last week and met a few leaders in the community and spent time with my new family. My host parents Angelica and Alberto are a young couple – younger than my siblings! – with a 19 year old son who trains for the military in Lima and a 12 year old daughter who lives with them and attends the school where I’ll work. Her name is Maria, and when I told her she has the same name as my real sister, she was very excited. She is beautiful and sweet and pure and I know she will become a very important part of my life here in Peru. My family is quiet, sentimental, traditional, funny and wonderful. At one point during the week I became pretty sick (totally normal for this job), and they cared for me like one of their own with that one Peruvian remedy of fresh oregano and mint tea, and that other Peruvian remedy of good old-fashioned TLC. The people in these mountain communities are shy, but with time and trust, I think I’ll be welcomed as a part of the greater community family.

Now lets get to the most important topic… food! It is Peruvian custom to welcome guests with a good meal(s). My family had a special afternoon planned for me when I arrived, starting at my host grandparent’s house. They have about 10,000 guinea pigs. Guess what I had for lunch? After slitting the throats of two of the fattest guinea pigs right there on the table at which I was seated, my grandmother Margarita proceeded to prepare one of the most memorable meals of my life (No offense, mom!). Let me tell you what – watching 2 little guys be drained of the blood, dehaired and cooked up might not get your mouth watering – but lets just say I was thankful I skipped breakfast that day. Lunch started out with a big bowl of soup. Then came the main course. On top of a mountain of rice and accompanied by E I G H T large potatoes, my spiced guinea pig took its throne. Lunch was followed up with an orange and a glass of soda. I ate every last bite. And it was pretty tasty, but it was the most I’ve ever eaten in one sitting. I definitely felt nothing less than victorious after I cleaned my plate (clean plate club has a whole new meaning). And if that doesn’t sound impressive, I dare you to visit me and see if you can handle it.
So the running joke of the week was that I’d eaten my mascota, or pet. My host family is very excited for my real family to come visit so they can serve them guinea pig too, and then they’ll love it and then they’ll return to the States and prepare the dish for all their gringo friends! Book your tickets and Get ready, family!!!

I’m thrilled to be living in a traditional and more conservative Peruvian society, and I think I’m going to have a very unique and rich experience in my site. The sun sets over the Cordillera Negra, a seemingly never-ending mountain range that I overlook from my small mountain town set high up in the sky.

On August 22, 2008, I will swear in as a United States Peace Corps Volunteer, and I’ll move to Ancash to start my service. I can’t believe training is almost over. I couldn’t have imagined this experience in my wildest dreams. I hope you enjoy the pictures and stories. Thank you to my family and friends for your continued support, and I wish you all LOTS of Peruvian love. XO.

Field-Based Training

Field-Based Training
I just returned to Lima after a week out in the field – experiencing the real Peru. 10 of us Youth Development trainees boarded the cheapest and most luxurious bus you’ve ever imagined – Peruvians do it right – and headed 16 hours north to beautiful Cajamarca. This department is in the Sierra of Peru – beautiful green mountains of all sizes are reminiscent of the Spanish or Italian countryside. During the dry season the weather is perfect – clear and crisp air, hot sunshine, and cool nights. The rainy season, of course, is rainy… but everything gets even greener. It’s pretty dreamy. I visited 4 surrounding pueblos in the campo, from about 300 (tiny!) to 7,000 residents in population and worked with the volunteers in their classrooms and youth groups. I gave a workshop on values and self-esteem, taught an English class and lead some ice-breaking dinamicas with some really cool youth groups. People in the Sierra are very different from those on the coast – more conservative, traditional, and timid… so this made classroom interactions interesting! Most of the time the kids just blink at you – they aren’t used to answering questions or providing their own opinions. And gender roles are accentuated so that if there is participation, the boys talk and talk, and the girls sit quietly whispering among one another and don’t participate. It would be amazing to work with this population and see if they open up a little over the next 2 years. During my visit in San Marcos, this beautiful pueblo of 7000pop with a Plaza and fountain, paved streets, surrounded by gorgeous mountains (I digress), we visited the radio station where one of the PCVs had a monthly radio show discussing themes like self-esteem, sexual abuse, nutrition, etc. This was really effective in her community because most of the population in her town is illiterate. I listened to one of her broadcasts, and it honestly sounded just like NPR… very cool. Visiting the tiny pueblo was amazing – I’ve never seen anything like it. Forget paved roads, forget municipalities, forget health posts… think 1 small school and a couple homes scattered on a lush hillside, think farm animals everywhere, think latrines (actually, think peeing in a salad bowl in your room), think wood burning stoves and semi-roofed homes. The women wear traditional Cajamarcan dress and they are very proud of their hats. We had an amazing picnic at Lindsey’s host sister’s house in her yard overlooking the countryside. We prepared tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers – treated them with bleach – and made good old-fashioned turkey sandwiches. Life in the campo is slow and beautiful. In Cajamarca city, we talked with one PCV and the NGO he works with which aims to eradicate illegal child labor, one kid at a time. They target kids under 14 years old selling candy in the streets or carrying wheelbarrows in the markets. Shockingly, Peruvian NGO’s exist actually encouraging these youth to work, providing them with wheelbarrows and teaching them how to lift them properly. The adversity is great, but this PCV has remarkable accomplishments within this city. Talking and learning from the PCVs this week has made everything so much more real. During my last afternoon we did all the typical Cajamarcan touristy things. I checked out a few museums housing colonial-era Friar-run hospitals and Pre-Incan artifacts dating around 1000 BC, visited beautiful churches made of volcanic rock, tasted and bought some Cajamarcan cheese, and had one last ice cream – it competes with Italian gelato. After this trip to the mountains, I feel reminded of my original intent in joining the Peace Corps. I want to experience a culture totally different from mine, I want to be free of material and modern influences, and I want to live among the traditional people of Peru, and learn and grow from it all. Overall, I feel pumped and ready to go. Be well, and stay in touch!
Sophie

July 4th, 2008

I can’t believe I am about to write this… but today marks the completion of 1 month in Cuerpo de Paz Peru. I truly feel like I got here yesterday… the days go by slowly, but the weeks just fly. I have learned more in the past month than ever before, experiencing the highest of highs while I navigate through this new chapter: Volunteering in Peru. Not that it’s been all roses; there have been hard moments and difficult realizations too, although few and far between. But did I mention my group is fantastic? We’re in this together, we’re going to support each other throughout this adventure, and I have complete confidence in this support.
I've spent the morning playing the greatest field games with my PC group - in full out in-it-to-win-it mode - and yes we won many activities. Dizzy bat, wheelbarrow races, water balloon throws, cracker eating contests, etc. Happy 4th!!!
So in the past month I have… Felt very much at home. Taken glacier-cold (not exaggerating) showers. Actually communicated with my family, in conversational Spanish, on a regular basis! I mean, we totally understand each other! Eaten rice and potatoes EVERY day, multiple times a day …and kind of liked it. Watched a chick flick in Spanish, and cried. Ran for President, and lost (I’ll get ‘em next time!). Had 2 really successful meetings with my youth group at the school in my town. Played more self-esteem building games than I can remember, and gotten completely in touch with my inner-child. Become really close with my host family. Experienced an earthquake. Played soccer with Peruvians. Shopped for food with my Mama in a wild outdoor market: think Peruvian Mamas poking, prodding, handling whole raw chickens. Taken the most crowded “bus” in the world, everyday. Craved coffee. Been visited by lots of awesome PC Volunteers. Conquered my fear of shots. Accepted giant flying crickets as my permanent roommates – they’re no Courtney and Nina! (Haven’t had any spider-sightings lately, but word on the street is Tarantulas are big here). Learned how to plant vegetables and make my own garden at Lima’s Agriculture University… can’t picture me with a rake and hoe? Guess again! Seen, breathed, felt, loved the Pacific Ocean. Fallen in love with the Spanish language again. Realized a Nuevo appreciation for chocolate… cake (as you can imagine, it’s becoming a problem). Changed my US dollars for Peruvian soles with a yellow-shirt-wearing person on the street. Dreamed big and held high hopes in the midst of poverty. Had some small victories in the gastro-intestinal department, emphasis on small. Attended the Corazon de Jesus Fiesta in my pueblo and danced… and watched in absolute amazement as the giant wooden float-like structures exploded with fireworks and sparklers. Loved the popularity of American 80’s and early 90’s music in Peru. Been SO excited to hear that LOST is sold on dirt-cheap pirated DVDs in absolutely every major city in this country (There is a God). Adopted the nickname “Mamita” gladly. Had a serious gossip session with 3 fabulous ladies in the back of a crowded bus on the way home from Lima. Lived off of $3.00 a day easily. Missed my mama. And my papa. And whoever is reading this, I’ve missed you too. (And Rose too!!!) Experienced some serious self-discovery. Been gently lulled to sleep by the sound of 10-20 dogs barking/fighting, ducks quacking, crickets (I mean, my roommates) singing, roosters crowing (my neighbor has 10 roosters, and they DO wake up at 4:30). Tasted cow intestine and stomach… and not liked it so much. Danced “sexy” and discussed Peruvian pick-up lines with my Spanish teacher… and she’s a woman… and she was a nun for 10 years. Woken up at 6 and gone to bed at 9 pretty much everyday. Learned how to teach and manage a classroom of 38 kids when I was expecting only 12... in Spanish. Explored, explored, explored. Soaked it all in. And loved every minute of it.
PAZ Y MUCHOS ABRAZOS.

¿Que Novelas?

Crickets. Giant crickets. That fly. Arroz with every meal. Spending more than 90% of my day outdoors. NOT excercising, unless you consider lifting baby wipes instead of weights a form of excercise. My sleeping bag - that and my pillow are my most prized posession. Cold showers. Charlas. Awakening my creative side. Dressing down and no makeup. LOVING my short hair. Being pleasantly surpised daily - often. Coffee withdrawl. Alfahoras. White noise used to be ambulances and traffic in DC, now it´s roosters, dogs, ducks, and other wildlife. Potty-talk. The neighborhood kids. Guinea pigs. Pushing myself and learning so much. Being devoid of American/World news/pop-culture... (who wants to volunteer to send me US weekly!!) Cebiche. Crystal. Potatoes, hundreds of types. Rice. Potatoes. Rice. Rice. Rice. Get the point? La bicicleta! Outdoor classrooms... greatest thing since sliced bread. Mucho apoyo. Llamas! Combis. Chocolate cake... some things never change. Feelings of wonderment, humbleness, thanks, sheer joy, excitement and anticipation and dread, longing for home and the ¨status quo¨- but being so thankful for this experience. Poco a poco. It`s all very overwhelming. Dealing with a multiplicity of contradictions, and embracing the hell out of them. Making fantastic friends, and having so much in common. Toughest job I`ll ever love.

Earthquakes

Appropriately, this morning, my first day in Peru, I experienced my first earthquake with my 38 new friends. As we ate our eggs and ham, the dining hall began to lightly tremble... But since the waiters pouring cafe con leche appeared totally unphased, well, we laughed it off! It really was no big deal - apppropriate really - as I´m sure this morning was the first of many small earthquakes - real and metaphorical - that I´ll experience in this fabulous country. After lunch, Glenn tried to feed an alpaca some chocolate, but that rude little alpaca spit on him. We´re already rolling with the punches. The weather is amazing - 70 degrees in the dead of winter here. I love my group, training is wonderful, and our leaders are amazing people. I have absolutely no complaints whatsoever, and I am so filled with emotion. Tomorrow I´ll move into my homestay for the next 3 months... and classes start on Monday. Can´t wait. XO.

One Week

Here we go. I haven't written in a journal since I was six. Maybe five. I haven't written a paper in a year. Right now, I'm more nervous about sounding pretentious or self-righteous in this blog than I am about going to the Peace Corps, so bear with me.
So about that Peace Corps thing... I'm off in a week. I've been waiting for a year. Here we go. I haven't packed. I've started shopping for those little last-minute nick-knacks like hiking backpacks, duffel bags, day packs, you know... details. But the physical act of packing has yet to start. Maybe I should get on that so I don't induce a major panic attack before I begin THE greatest adventure of my life. (Am I sounding nervous yet?)
This year has been a complete whirl-wind... living in Ketchum and reconnecting with Peyton was by far the best decision I made this post-scholastic year.
This month has been a complete whirl-wind... I've visited almost every family member on my living family tree, played with the most adorable babies and kids who I am SO lucky to call my nieces and nephews, surfed, eaten my weight in: cheese/pasta/sushi/vegetables/fruit/allthingsIprobablywon'teatfor27months, stayed up til wayyy past my bedtime with friends from college and high school, stayed up til wayyy past my bedtime with my sister sharing the most personal and intimate stories, thoughts, fears, hopes for the future... I laughed, I cried, and I soaked it all in. My fuel for the next 27 months. Here we go.