"Something will Happen"

Crazy things start to happen when you have an abundance of time, imagination, and wireless internet. Contemplation about global warming, feng shui, chocolate, and online dating swirl and simmer inside the brain until the illogical begins to seem possible.

My intense candy cravings and lack of social contact, combined, led me to reactivate my OKCupid! profile about 9 months ago. I had no real agenda other than shameless self-promotion and solicitation. I was very clear and upfront about my circumstances, that I was living on another continent and serving in the Peace Corp, and that I was only looking for “new friends” who might want to send me M & M’s in the mail.  I specified that messages would also be welcome from people who: a) wanted advice on traveling to Peru, b) were interested in learning more about the Peace Corps, c) had the ability to run faster than  me,  or d) were otherwise awesome.

Although I had to contend with some unwanted attention from “rilonelyman” and “ebay-holic” I was surprised by the quality of men who initiated communication. Instead of the usual one liners, like “hi hun” or “nice butt” people made an effort to compliment me on my “mad running skills” and my “fun and fascinating life”--- kind and curious people from Oklahoma, Minnesota, Seattle, and Missouri, among other places.

But then something rather unexpected happened --- The Return of Rob Gordon! “Rob” is the boy from back home, who, much like the protagonist of “High Fidelity,” boasts an impressive record collection and an encyclopedic musical memory. He is the fun and fabulous guy who dated, then rejected me, in the months before Peace Corps. He broke my heart, then he bought my car. And like every great post-modern romance, I believe our spark was rekindled by excessive drinking and Facebook.  Fast forward to several months later and I am officially in a long-distance relationship with good ol’ Rob. I was looking for chocolate, but found a boyfriend instead. J

Surprisingly, love in the Peace Corps happens more often than you would think. We leave the comforts of home behind, which may include a robust social/dating life, and most of us enter this experience anticipating two years of solitude or celibacy. And for many months that was my reality. I craved rhythm, routine, and an amazing tan. I gained 15 pounds, my hair was a hot, layered mess, and my buttoned-down fashion sense rivaled that of the local Mormons. Yet I began to grow in new and exciting ways; I became more comfortable living in the present moment and conjugating verbs in the past tense.

When I finally dipped my toe back into the dating pool, even in a self-deprecating, non-serious manner, perhaps my joie de vivre was apparent. Khalil Gilbran writes that “Beauty is a light in the heart” and I believe that many volunteers, those who find peace and joy in their service, emanate that radiance. Marathon Skype sessions, flirty text messages, and animated discussions about The Future have become the nuts and bolts of my current relationship, and I am happier than I would have imagined. I guess my unsolicited relationship advice to those contemplating the Peace Corps, or any major life change, is rather straightforward: Trust yourself, indulge your passion, and, as Rob would say, “something will happen.”

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A Day in the Life

Due to popular demand and public curiosity, I thought I would describe in greater detail the daily activities of my life as a Peace Corps volunteer. Of course, it is important to remember that each day can bring new, unexpected challenges, and that no two volunteers will have the same experience, but here is a brief representation of my present reality.

5:30 a.m.	Awakened by the damn chickens! Seriously?!? Arrrgghh…..
5:50 a.m.	Because I’m already awake I might as well run 4-5 miles, heading to the beach and back.
7:30 a.m.	Leave for school.
8:00 a.m.	Teach English to 100 middle school girls. Everyone participates, we have fun, and I think the kids even learned something. No major behavior problems. J
11:00 a.m.	Visit the Municipality. Attempt to schedule a meeting with the mayor, but get sucked into “girl talk” at the Social Service office instead (they offered me Inka Cola and I can never refuse that stuff). Because the mayor is away this month, I decide to try for a meeting with the General Manager instead, but there are already 3 people waiting to talk to him. I decide to try back next Monday.
12:00 p.m.	Return downtown. Check email. Discover that someone will be sending me M & M’s in the mail. YESSS!!
1:00 p.m.	Meet up with my sitemate, Richard, for lunch. OMG, today’s menu choice has GREEN vegetables. Woot!
2:00 p.m.	Work on the quarterly Volunteer Report File, which we have to submit every 3 months to our Program Director, detailing our accomplishments and challenges, objectives met, future projects planned, etc.
3:30 p.m.	Nap time. (not a daily occurrence)
5:00 p.m.	Develop lesson plans for next week’s English classes.
6:00 p.m.	Annual Work Plan for 2012. Begin to map out the steps necessary to create a youth health promoters group, a wellness/ running program for adolescent girls, and some community service projects.
7:30 p.m.	Dinner at Govinda, a vegetarian restaurant, with Richard and friends. While walking to the town plaza, a group of male neighbors “invite” me (OK, more like they yell my name in a rowdy, incessant manner) to participate in their drinking circle. I wave, smile, and keep on walking. BTW, this is a near daily occurrence.
9:30 p.m.	Return home. Waste time on Facebook.
10:00 p.m.	Skype date with a friend from the U.S.
11:00 p.m.	Waste some more time on Facebook. Justin H Brierley is online!?! Nice. IM for 15-20 minutes.
11:30 p.m.	Bed time.

Another factor to consider when reading this “schedule” is that right now it’s summer here and I have only been in my community for 4.5 months. After March, when the school year resumes, I expect to be a lot busier.

Also, teaching English is usually a secondary, not a primary activity, for Youth Development volunteers, a way to build relationships with kids and our community during our initial months at site. A majority of our time is spent on health and wellness programming, career education, leadership training, etc.

The lifestyle that I enjoy is somewhat atypical for a Peace Corps volunteer in Peru. I have daily internet access, both at home and in my community, and I live four houses apart from another PCV. Sure, I wash all my clothing by hand and take cold showers, but considering that there are some volunteers who travel 2-3 hours to arrive at the nearest ATM, eat a steady diet of rice and potatoes, and lack cell phone service, I feel quite fortunate and blessed!

But when serving in the Peace Corps, regardless of your site specifics, it is the minor miracles that sustain us, like consuming fruits AND vegetables in a single day, sucking on some Starbursts, and enjoying a nice, solid shit. Simple pleasures, indeed!

The Gift of Giving In

“False cognates are words in one language that are identical or very similar to words in a second language, but whose meanings are different. These are sometimes called ‘false friends’ because they are recognizable in form but undependable in meaning.” (1001 Pitfalls in Spanish, p. 274)

Upon entering a foreign culture we often seek comfort in elements of the dependable and the familiar. But on many occasions, expectations do not align with reality. I can think of several examples with regard to food and, more recently, with holiday celebrations.

Our “false friends” can sometimes lead us down the wrong path, with embarrassing, yet humorous results. For example, if you were to walk into a supermarket and ask for “tuna sin preservativos” you would, in fact, be asking for a “prickly pear without a condom.” Super kinky, right? Then after committing your innocent linguistic error, you might feel compelled to apologize and state that you’re very “embarazada,” which amounts to being pregnant. Watch out for those prickly pears. J

Another thing to beware of is the ketchup. As most of my close friends already know, I love (umm…no, LOVE!) condiments and will always reserve a special place in my heart for Heinz 57.  I used to put that stuff on eggs, burgers, baked potatoes, etc., and in disturbingly large quantities. Although you can certainly find “ketchup” in Peru, a product “recognizable in form,” the content is way different and way bad. Not sure how to describe that shit, other than “sugary tomato goop”?

Pizza, another favorite comfort food, also tends to lead me down a driveway of disappointment. Whenever I spot a new pizzeria in town I will become ridiculously excited, expecting and hoping for the crisp crust, savory tomato sauce, and hot, melted mozzarella of my native New York. Once again, my dreams are dashed--- this time by cardboard crust and the inappropriate use of ham.

With regard to the holidays, it was certainly difficult to accept the advent of Christmas this year, without the crisp, cold New England winter or seasonal sightings of Santa Claus. Initially, I was relieved when people began to deck their halls, sometime between December 10th and 14th. But after a small sampling of the decorative efforts, I was ready to throw every strand of glittery garland into the ocean. By far, the Christmas tree in the Plaza took the prize for most tacky imitation of “American” custom and culture. As you can see in the photo below, this year’s holiday season was brought to you by plastic, paper-mache, and Coca-Cola.

 

However, when you stop looking for customs, culture, and cuisine that are “recognizable in form” you become more open to embracing all that is unique and amazing about where you are, right here and right now. These days, instead of lusting after ketchup, I’ve made Huancaina my new boyfriend. Sure, the pizza sucks but the ceviche is out-of-this-world. And on Christmas Eve, I had the unique pleasure of gathering with my Peruvian family, drinking hot cocoa and waiting for the strike of midnight, at which point we exchanged hugs, placed baby Jesus in the manger, then joined our neighbors in the street for a champagne toast (followed shortly by exploding cherry bombs).

Although the past several months have certainly been marked by growing pains, I believe the greatest indicator of integration occurred on New Year’s Eve. Amid a group of friends, hailing from Cusco, Connecticut, and places in between, I participated in a Peruvian drinking circle and consumed BEER! My close friends and family know that I strongly dislike beer, but after some initial moments of doubt hesitation, I found that the local hops and barley are not too offensive! Either this is a sign of personal growth, or the impending apocalypse. I give up. I give in.