Egghead

I have many quarrels with the Peruvian education system.  The one we’re going to explore today is the manner in which kids enter university.  Everything is based on one exam, high school grades and activities are not considered.  It’s like if every university had its own SAT, threw some SAT II material in there, and then based all of its admissions decisions on how well a student does on that harrowing test.  I think I’d be more likely to throw up on it out of anxiety than to pass.

This leads to obvious issues.  There is little incentive to apply oneself in high school since performance there isn’t considered afterward.  Students who aren’t skilled test takers are inherently hosed.  The tests are also expensive, and many can’t afford to re-take it if they don’t do well the first time.

One of the things I really love about my host family is that my mamita and papito encourage all of their 9 kids to pursue higher education and support them however than can in that endeavor.   The girls are encouraged and expected to achieve as much as the boys.  This isn’t the philosophy I would expect from parents who had nine kids, but if there’s two things the Peace Corps teaches you, they’re that your ideas about the world are fallacious and while it’s great to learn, it’s unlikely you actually know much of anything.

The kids range from 30’s to 13 years old. None have married yet and instead are focused on their careers and studies.  The more miraculous thing is that there aren’t any grandkids.  They are a singular and remarkable family.

My host brother Andy is 18 and had been adrift for the past year.  He didn’t pass the university exam right after high school and afterward spent his time listlessly studying to retake it and working for his dad.  After a few months of purgatory, he decided to really try again and enrolled in a test-prep course that the university offers.  He studied hard and took the test again the other day.

He arrived home after the exam and hid upstairs.  Normally, Andy is chatting everyone up and good-naturedly terrorizing the cat or his younger siblings.  Instead, he was quiet, sullen, and couldn’t eat.  The test results were posted online in the evening when we were all in the kitchen having tea.  My host sister scrolled through her smartphone and we waited the agonizing moments while the page loaded and she looked for her brother’s name.  After a long silence, she yelled, “Entró!” (He got in)

The whole family sprang up and pounced on Andy.  There was hollering and hugs all around.  My host mom cried because she was so proud and happy.  Andy cried from relief.  When the ruckus died down a bit, the hair cutting started.  This was a new cultural experience for me, but apparently to celebrate a success, you cut the succeeder’s hair and crack some eggs on their head if you’re feeling extra exuberant and proud.  This is poor Andy after everyone finished congratulating him. 

You may have thought the real reason I haven’t had any paradigm-shifting achievements here was due to the inherent difficulty of community development work or cultural differences.  Nope.  It’s because that’s what happens to you when you do something awesome.

Well done, Andy!  You’re going to be the best geologist ever!