World Map

The World Map is a hallowed Peace Corps tradition.  Volunteers all over the planet are painting maps in their communities.  It seemed like an awesome, fun project that would spread the PC message, so I decided to do one during my second year of vacaciones utiles, or summer school.  It turned out that was ambitious.

I started with three high school classes.  We began with some basic geography and ecology lessons so they'd have a better understanding of what they were working on.  Initially, I had wanted to project an image of the map onto the wall to trace, but our equipment wasn't powerful enough.  We went to the tried and true, but much slower grid method.

Thankfully, I still had my highschoolers to set it up.  

Sadly, vacaciones utiles ended at that point, which makes it right on schedule for a PC project, so I needed to do the rest with the sixth graders that went to the school.  We started over with some more geography classes to learn the cardinal directions, how to read a map, and all that good stuff.  Then it was time to draw the map on the grid following print-outs.  Most of Peruvian primary education is based on rote memorization and copying, so I thought they'd be awesome at copying from the paper to the wall.  It turned out to be much more of a challenge than I thought.  After a few more white hairs, I was able to help my students figure out what they were up to.

Then it was time to paint!  

Aside from some difficulty staying inside the lines, this part was fun.  

After the main countries were painted, we needed to fill in all the tiny islands and territories, which quickly became the bane of my existence.  With the difficulty of correctly placing all the -nesias, the rainy season getting drunk and sticking around way after the party was over, and fiesta upon fiesta, we somehow made it to late September with work still to be done.  I needed to call in the heavy artillery.

My friends Laura and Nicole came to visit and I put them to work labeling the last countries.

The next week, a few kids and I cleaned up some borders and repainted the ocean, and we were done!

It's missing islands and some of the smaller European countries, but it's way better than no map at all and another good learning opportunity.  I had to let go of a lot of expectations, and as Voltaire would say, not let the perfect be the enemy of the good.  

Such Great Heights

It’s been confirmed in an official-like manner that I’m the highest PCV in the whole world.  One of our doctors here took it upon himself to ask the doctors in Nepal if they had anyone over 4,000 meters.  The Nepalese doctors responded with something like, “No, that’s crazy!” so at 4,125 meters (13,500 ft.), I officially hold the title.  Pretty cool.

I was a little embarrassed when Dr. Jorge sent out a note with the news all of Peace Corps Peru, but, I’m used to infamy and being made a spectacle by Peruvians by now, so I’ll go with it. 

It's not so bad living at the top of the world, once you get used to it.

A Garden Party

Every night, I heat up some oil in a pan, add onion and garlic, then whatever other vegetables I bought at the market that week.  Spinach, bell pepper, tomatoes, broccoli, sometimes that one that looks like a cactus.  Once that’s going, I add the protein.  Usually an egg (from our duck if I’m lucky), or some chicken or alpaca if I was feeling fancy.  Then the seasoning.  Some salt, oregano, or maybe some of my closely guarded curry powder.  And that’s it.  I eat it out of the pan (because who am I putting on airs for?) with my only fork.  This is what it usually looks like. 

It’s a functional meal.  It tastes good enough and is the most meaningful amount of vegetables I encounter every day.  That particular duck egg was awesome.  But until last week, I had forgotten how wonderful it can be to cook when you invest time, money, and have more people to feed than your own self.  Let me back up. 

We have a successful little veggie garden at a primary school called Quilcacancha.  I recently wrote a post about our lettuce harvest.  That was a precursor to our big harvest party, which we had in the middle of September.  I wanted to celebrate that we were actually able to grow vegetables at 13,500 feet.  The plan was to make a bunch of food with the vegetables and invite the parents over to share the meal and learn about the garden.

After it took my students over an hour to put a salad together, I abandoned any ideas of us cooking together and made most of the food at home ahead of time.  When I got to the school the day of the party, we harvested a bunch of spinach and made a lovely salad with strawberries and cheese. 

When everything was set up, we played a little frisbee while we waited for parents to show up.

We had 9 moms come to the party.  I was happy since it’s a school of only 35 kids and it’s rare to have anybody show up for anything, whether or not there’ll be free food.  I had some time to sit and chat with them about recipes, why it’s good to cook with veggies, and growing them ourselves. 

I was happy with how all the food turned out.  We had garlic beets

Coleslaw

Our spinach salad.

Quinoa with veggies

And ginger carrot soup, which was my personal favorite. 

Everything was made from ingredients grown in our garden our bought in town, and the kids ate a surprising amount of food for being children who rarely encounter veggies.  The moms were more into it and were excited to try similar things at home. 

At the end of the meal, the principal of the school stood up and gave a nice talk about nutrition and the role of parents in feeding their children well.  She also said some really nice things about me and my work at the school.  A lot of times, I feel like people have no idea what I’m doing here or that I’m putting upon them to work with me.  It was wonderful to be thanked and appreciated for a little while. 

All in all, it was a big success.  Everyone ate and had a good time, which is all I could ask for.  The next time I go to the school, I’m going to send all the kids home with starts to plant at their houses and a list of recipes for all the dishes we ate.  Hooray for vegetables!  

Mistura

We were lucky enough to have our COS conference overlap with the Mistura food festival in Lima.  Mistura is a world-reknowned gathering of all the best Peruvian food from the jungle, mountains, and coast.  The diversity of Peruvian environments and cultures creates some kick-ass food.  I know I complain about what I eat with my host family, but this wasn’t the cuisine of poor people at the upper altitudes of possible human existence.  This was the best each region had to offer. 

Our strategy was to go as a team so we could split up the cost and taste as many things as possible.  I even planned my outfit for the occasion and it was one of the few times in Peru I’ve worn a dress.  Looking chic was a bonus, the main utility was to avoid any pants restrictions on belly expansion.  We all spent a bunch of money and ended up with healthy food babies.  I’m normally exasperated by people taking pictures of food they ate and putting it on the internet, but I’m going to do it anyway today.  I think this is a legit uploading of food pictures situation. 

We started in the chocolate tent, which was obviously my favorite and merited another visit on the way out.  Peru has wonderful local chocolate.  Some of it organic, some basic, some very fancy.  The vendors were liberal with their samples and made me wish I had brought a fake moustache so I could immediately revisit my favorites. 

Whatever this pudding thing was was the best thing I ate all day, despite what the lady standing behind my friends thinks.    

Fancy truffles.  They did not want to give me one of these for free. 

Chocolate sushi!

We then meandered over to the coffee tent, where we sampled the most expensive coffee in the world.  

Why the most expensive, you ask?  Well, my friend, there’s a premium because each bean is eaten and then pooped out by a coati before it’s roasted, which apparently does amazing things for the boquet.  I am not sophisticated enough to detect the subtle notes of giant rodent intestines. 

There was this lovely mural showing how awesome coffee is. 

We moved over to the quinoa tent where we tried a quinoa tamale, quinoa apple jam, and admired all the colors the grain comes in. 

There was a market where a lot of the produce was available to buy.  Tubers, my old friends, made an impressive showing.  

Not even the flower arrangements were left unpotatoed. 

Of course, there were more samples of honey, cheese, chorizo, hot sauce, and exotic liqueurs.  We mixed them all in our bellies with abandon. 

We just looked around the bread tent.  It was pretty, but you can't go filling up on it.

We stopped by the costal section for a really cheesy sandwich and some excellent anticuchos, or beef heart kebabs.  Here are the cooks doing their magic and my friend Joseph bravely double fisting. 

By then we needed some liquid, so thankfully there was a whole pisco section.  We shared pisco cocktails with lemongrass and passionfruit with mango.  They got us just tipsy enough to be able to eat more. 

We headed to the southern tent where we tried chupe de camarrones, which is a seafood soup from Arequipa, and queso helado, which is like cream cheese frosting ice cream with cinnamon on top.  Happy times. 

Folks in Arequipan dress making queso helado. 

Mmm, brains.

We meandered to the northern tent where we got cabrito con tamal verde (goat with a green tamale).  I’d never had goat before and was surprised how it fell off the bone.  There was also a delicious duck dish that I only got a scrap of. 

We waddled over to the jungle tent, and regretted saving it for last.  We split cecina con tacacho, which is a dish from the Amazonas department.  Cecina is like really awesome, smoky, thick bacon, and tacacho is mashed potatoes if you made it with plantains. 

We also tried paiche, a giant Amazon river fish with fresh mushrooms.  The last thing we had was a juane de pescado, which is mashed yucca around fish cooked in a banana leaf.  

After a brief swing through the market and chocolate tents to buy things to take home, we went to the hostel and succumbed to food comas. 

This culinary adventure was a testament to the power of friendship.  Alone, I never would’ve been able to try so many remarkable dishes; my belly and wallet just aren’t powerful enough.  But with friends, you can try a bite of everything at the food festival without dire digestive or economic consequences.  Hurrah for friendship!  

COS

During the first week of September, Peru 18, which consists of Environment, Water and Sanitation, and Health volunteers had our final medical checks and Close of Service conference.  

The medical checks were intense.  I was poked, prodded, drained, swabbed, drilled, measured, and injected.  At one point, I was walking to the local lab with a purse full of my friends’ stool samples and thought that if I ever were to get robbed, that would be the time.  Despite the invasiveness of those two days, it felt good to be thoroughly checked out after two years of poor nutrition, questionable decision-making, and the touchiest digestive system this side of the equator.  It turns out that I’m almost perfectly healthy.  The only noteworthy discoveries were a slightly concave sternum, hemoglobin levels of a sherpa, and naturally, some resident giardia. 

The conference itself was unremarkable.  Lots of information about paperwork, logistics of getting home, and most importantly, how and when I’ll be getting my fat stacks of a readjustment allowance.  In true sierra lady style, I brought my knitting to keep from falling asleep.

For some reason, it didn’t occur to me before the trip that this would be the last time I’d see many of my friends, and it would certainly be the last time we were all together.  We stayed up late every night catching up, sharing stories and crappy beer and boxes of wine.  When the week ended and folks started to trickle away to their sites, it hit me right in my dented sternum that this was the end of a singular experience in my life.  I didn’t see my volunteer friends all the time.  Some I hadn’t seen since the previous December when we were all in Lima.  But, those rare times when we were together, it was like we’d never been apart.  We’ve only known each other two years, but we’ve formed intimate and understanding relationships the likes of which I don’t know if I’ll have again.  They saw me miserably sick, dismayed, furious, frustrated, bitter, and elated.  We speak the same atrocious Spanglish with a dab of Quechua thrown in to each other.  They’re the people I call when something falls apart despite my best efforts, or succeeds beyond all reason.  They reflect my every idea and emotion back at me because they’ve had them, too.  We’ve created the kind of friendships that are formed when people go through hardships together and support each other. 

Now it’s almost over.  I looked forlornly out the window, alone on my bus ride back to site.  I’m excited to get home to my family, my old friends, and all the comforts of America.  But I won’t be going back the same, and even though my service has been difficult beyond imagining at times, there are irreplaceable things I’ll be leaving behind.  So it goes.  

Trienta de Agosto

My town has a big fiesta from the 28^th of August to the 3^rd of September to celebrate Santa Rosa de Lima, or Saint Rose of Lima.  There are 11 guys called Mayordomos who are in charge of the party that year.  They hire the bands, organize dance troupes, and cook enough food to invite the whole town over between all of them. 

It all starts with the pishtapacuy at the Mayordomos’ houses where animals are slaughtered in preparation for the hordes that will descend as the fiesta gets going.  Thankfully, I’ve been able to busy myself with other things on that day.  Afterwards, there are many days of dancing huayno, eating meat, and public drunkenness.  It’s pretty fun for a little while.  I like to go check out the dancing in the plaza in the middle of the day, before people are too rambunctious, then hide in my house outside of town when things get going at night. 

The first day of dancing was for all the schoolkids.  It was pretty freaking cute.

I took this video walking down the street where all the groups were cueing to dance.  

You’ll notice how I ignored the jackass high school students shouting the only English they know in my direction.  Hilarious every time, you guys.  Also, it was 4pm. 

Here are all the mamalitas waiting for the show to start.  I love how they all have a buddy to talk to.

It was crowded.

Sometimes it’s awesome to be a giant among mere mortals.  I’ll never get such a good view at parades or concerts when I go back to the states.

Here’s David looking super cute and ready to be part of the parade. 

It was super cold, so I went to get an emoliente, which is a hot tea like drink made with the stuff from all those colored bottles. 

The brownish one is flaxseed extract, which makes it thick, the green one is alfalfa, the red is a medicinal herb, light green is lime juice, and you’ve got me on the orange bottle.  The lady mixes it all up with hot water and honey and it’s just the ticket when the umbles of hypothermia start to set in.

Refreshed, I went and found some of my students.

I have no explanation for this.

Or this.

Day two was for parading around the idol of Santa Rosa de Lima. 

The next day of dancing was for all the Mayordomos’ dance troupes to compete.  Each group had hired a band, and they all played and danced right next to each other in the plaza, creating a competing saxophone ruckus you wouldn’t believe.

No really, can we talk about the number of saxophones?