Digestive Double Feature

Letting It Out

It was regional meeting weekend in Huancayo, but I was feeling miserable.  I only dragged myself there to buy giardia medicine that isn’t available in my site.  I did the most basic errands, nibbled on food at family dinner, but mostly rested in the 10 person hostel room we were sharing. 

One afternoon, I was lying in bed, cruising Facebook, and composing my own twelve-part fart harmonies.  All my protozoan guests were jogging around my intestines and creating a hindenbergian quantity of gas.  If I didn’t have a release valve, I would’ve burst or been found bobbing against the ceiling. 

Then, to my chagrin, girl Alex from Yauyos walked in.  She was disheveled and had runny mascara, so clearly something was up.  She immediately started on her tale of woe, which, like most Peace Corps meltdowns, was an accumulation of crappy things that ended up as a steaming mountain of misery. 

I tried to listen empathetically, but most of my attention went toward holding in my farts.  I’d let a tiny one squeak out and say, “Uh huh” or “Oh, really?” too loudly to try to cover it.  Alex only became more upset and my stomach began to make grumpy dinosaur sounds in protest.  After realizing she had been going on for a while, Alex said, “I’m sorry I’m dumping all this on you.  It’s just been so much piling up that now I can’t help but let it out.”

“Alex,” I replied, “I have to tell you, this giardia is still really bad and I can’t stop farting.  I’ve been holding it in, but I can’t keep it up much longer.  I’m happy to listen, but I’m going to need to be farting while you’re talking.”

                And that’s how we both let it out.  Alex told me her woes and I tooted my sympathies until we both took exhaustion naps. 

A Close One

I quickened my pace and kept my head down.  I pulled my sun hat down low over my brow and didn’t greet anyone.  I murmured dozens of frantic pleas to god or the pachamama or whatever deity holds sway over this freezing stretch of pampa.  My stomach roiled and it felt like my intestines were in my shoes.  My breath came quick and I shifted to short, rapid strides.  Just let me make it.  I turned the corner and saw the “Servicio Higienico” sign.  My fingers fumbled for my coin purse to get my 50 centimos ready.  Please please let me make it.  It’s so far to walk home.  I handed my coin to the lady and sprinted in to the stall.  Please please.  I made it, but just barely.  And now I owe all sorts of good deeds and favors to Jesus, Krishna, Joseph Smith, and the Big Potato in the sky. 

Grizzled Veteran

Last week, I went down to Lima to help with Peru 20’s training.  So you know, every group is given a number and there are two groups a year.  I was Peru 18, 19 was a group of small business and youth development volunteers, and now Peru 16 (environment and water and sanitation) is leaving and being replaced with 20.  Make sense?

I’ve been here a whole year and am facing tearful goodbyes to my 16er friends and looking forward to making new friends with the 20ers.  We’ll be getting 3 new folks in the Junin region. 

I can’t believe that I’m suddenly the veteran who is all experienced and knowing things.  But I remember exactly how training felt and I’ve come a long way since then.  It was funny to field questions from the trainees and see how their anxieties were the exact same as mine at that time.  Where will I live?  Can I cook for myself?  Will I poop my pants? 

I was pretty overwhelmed, lonely, and sad during training, and also absorbing so much every day.  You’re in a tiny, turbulent bubble in the training life.  I’m so much happier now that I’m out in the world as a volunteer.  I don’t think many folks got to know me well until we had separated after training and I was able to stretch my legs, leave home behind, and be myself

. 

The new group seems really nice, and I’m excited to get to know them better when they’re real volunteers, too.  It felt good to be able to ease their minds about things and show them how to teach children.  

I was with them while they were preparing to teach their first classes in an elementary school.  They were so worried due to a mix of lack of experience and Spanish skills and some stayed up past midnight working on their presentations.  I can’t wait to see them when they’re like me, waking up in the morning and thinking, “what’ll I teach today?”  It’s always great to get some new blood and ideas into the group.  They’ll also have beginner’s enthusiasm which will help those of us who have been here a year and are  a bit disillusioned with how things work in Peru.  

Golden Showers

 This will be the last time I apologize for not posting, because that’s just how all my posts will start from now on if I keep it up.  I had concerns with starting a blog: how public it is, is it narcissistic?, and will I keep up with it.  It was much easier to find material when everything was new and different.  Now, Peru is just my life, strange and bewildering as it is.  I’ve also been traveling like crazy for the past month or so and will hopefully have more time to write coming up.

Anyway, I had to tell you a new hygiene thing I learned about my family.  Turns out, they sometimes wash their faces and hair with pee.  They say the Incas did it and it treats acne and all sorts of skin conditions.  I suppose pee would act as an astringent, but I think I’ll be sticking to my bar of soap.  

Photo Op.

Sorry no post for a long while!  I've been traveling all around.  Check out Facebook for some photos from my tech. exchange in Amazonas and the 3 day bike ride around Lago Chinchaycocha.  I'll write up some stories soon.  

I'm currently in Lima preparing to go to Peru 20 training tomorrow to talk about environmental education in elementary school.  I can't believe I was where these guys are just a year ago.  The things I didn't know, the things I thought and worried about, how I thought my life would be.  It's all so radically different.  Hopefully I'll have time to write some coherent thoughts on it sometime.  Until then, I'm just excited to meet the new blood!

Chau!