Friday, September 30, 2005
llueve todos los tardes
Every day at about 1:30 the sky clouds over to a dark grey, followed by a few crashes of thunder warning the last people on the streets to take cover and then the rain pours down. It does this for about an hour. Some here may call this la primavera, while others will tell you it is el invierno, and a few may even try to convince you it is el otoño. One thing is for certain, in this rainy season, it is definately not el verano.
We have begun to cook at our new house in an effort to go off the cookie diet. Despite making home cooked meals, forsaking cookies has become impossible. Yesterday, upon entering a small convenience store, the shopkeeper recognized me, and asked "quieren Uds. galletas?", as I had bought cookies there the day before. Today we made our first big cookie investment and bought a big bag of cookies.
On the otherhand, cooking also leads to many adventures. As I was chopping vegetables to make a sauce, the cook/cleaner/hired help in the apartment where we rent a room, walked in to declare "Cocinas? AY! no hay gas!" Apparently the gas container that fuels the stove had run out of gas. However, she quickly told me this wasnt a problem, because we could go over the our neighbor´s apartment (our house mom´s sister) to use her stove. As we walked over, hands full of pots and plates, I was greeted by Valentino, our new monkey friend, a few birds, geese and a dog. Soon we were cooking again. The hired friend let me know she was going to watch me to learn some new recipes. I guess they get tired of their daily lunch of meat, and rice. It wasnt long before this stove also ran out of gas. "No te preocupes!" she said, letting me know there was one more sister in the vicinity. Climbing three flights of narrow steps, through a small courtyard, we came to our final kitchen destination. Here I quickly melted cheese on the bread, and left before waiting to see what the next cooking catastrophe would be.
It is now pouring outside. The afternoon rain has become comforting. It calms the dusty streets, and offers an excuse to get in bed or relax for a while. From our back courtyard we can watch the rain fall over the city, green hills and mountains in the distance. Oddly the yellow grey sky, filled with angry clouds, over the green hills and old stone buildings is one of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen.
Hasta pronto!
señorita rebeca (as the girls in the orphanage call me)
We have begun to cook at our new house in an effort to go off the cookie diet. Despite making home cooked meals, forsaking cookies has become impossible. Yesterday, upon entering a small convenience store, the shopkeeper recognized me, and asked "quieren Uds. galletas?", as I had bought cookies there the day before. Today we made our first big cookie investment and bought a big bag of cookies.
On the otherhand, cooking also leads to many adventures. As I was chopping vegetables to make a sauce, the cook/cleaner/hired help in the apartment where we rent a room, walked in to declare "Cocinas? AY! no hay gas!" Apparently the gas container that fuels the stove had run out of gas. However, she quickly told me this wasnt a problem, because we could go over the our neighbor´s apartment (our house mom´s sister) to use her stove. As we walked over, hands full of pots and plates, I was greeted by Valentino, our new monkey friend, a few birds, geese and a dog. Soon we were cooking again. The hired friend let me know she was going to watch me to learn some new recipes. I guess they get tired of their daily lunch of meat, and rice. It wasnt long before this stove also ran out of gas. "No te preocupes!" she said, letting me know there was one more sister in the vicinity. Climbing three flights of narrow steps, through a small courtyard, we came to our final kitchen destination. Here I quickly melted cheese on the bread, and left before waiting to see what the next cooking catastrophe would be.
It is now pouring outside. The afternoon rain has become comforting. It calms the dusty streets, and offers an excuse to get in bed or relax for a while. From our back courtyard we can watch the rain fall over the city, green hills and mountains in the distance. Oddly the yellow grey sky, filled with angry clouds, over the green hills and old stone buildings is one of the most beautiful sites I have ever seen.
Hasta pronto!
señorita rebeca (as the girls in the orphanage call me)
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Over the river and through the mountains
7 Packs of plain cookies eaten in the last two days
2 Showers taken since arrival one week ago, both in the last 35 hours
2 Cases of food poisoning in the last three days
1 High altitude run
1 Earthquake today
1 Peruvian Birthday Party in the mountains today
1 Car crash to get there
2 Unsturdy bridges crossed to get there
1 Turn up the mountain in which all people in the back of the van were told to get out to get there
1 Bug visitor up my pants
It is hard to imagine that the last few days have only been a few days. On Friday afternoon we went to a party in the afternoon at the orphanage to celebrate El dia de la juventud. There we witnessed an espectulo of games consisting of parter dancing while holding an orange in between chins, feeding a partner and eating a whole plate of a disgusting looking purple jello like jam with raisins while blindfolded, and a bobbing for pepinos (cucumbers) contest. We left as the games were ending, before the cake was cut and more odd looking jello passed around, to attend our first meeting of the Club de Liones, which was eye opener in itself. Later that night we delt with the first round of food poisoning in our bathroom that randomly has working water. Mike Don rushed to the bathroom to find a flood because we didnt know we had left the sink on, when no water was running earlier.
Saturday morning we took a bus 6km out of the city to Los Baños del Inca, natural hotsprings. In our private hotsprings room we were finally able to run a hot tub and get clean. we spent the night eating cookies and apartment hunting.
Today started off early with a short run and the opportunity to shower! We stopped to explore the University on the way back to the city. Following the music and in search of the gym we were welcomed into a huge evangelic prayer group inside the gimnasio. This was just the beginning of our dia muy loca. We returned to Cajamarca in time to leave for a birthday party in the country with Alejandro (who has been helping us settle and job searching) and 80 others. The ride began with a small car crash in a city with no driving order. All was settled after going in cirlces, literally, and paying the other driver $100. It continued on a dirt road through the country, past farms of cows, pigs, sheep and horses, over very unsturdy bridges, up and through los Andes. The peruvians know how to party! From their own bar brought from Cajamarca, to two platos principales consisting of 4 different kinds of meat, sweet potatoes, an undistinguishable vegetable salad, rice and potatoes. The afternoon quickly turned into 60 drunk peruanos, surrounded by their kids, toasting to VIDA, SALUD, AMIGOS, and chanting DE LA CORAZON, DE LA CORAZON. It was no "the hills are alive with the sound of music" experience as this meal quickly did not agree with my stomach. It is back to a diet of cookies, bread, and plain cake. The party would not have been complete with out a visit to the family´s church built off their house. And of course birthday cake. The ride back was just as bit as exciting with 4 drunk, smoking men in the back. The most rowdy past out, only to awake and scream at the radio ´´VOLUMEN"
Tomorrow we start work and an apartment hunt and continue the diet of cookies with a side of asodophilus.
MY CONTACT PAGE GOT ERASED SO PLEASE EMAIL ME SO THAT I HAVE YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS.
DE LA CORAZON,
Becca
2 Showers taken since arrival one week ago, both in the last 35 hours
2 Cases of food poisoning in the last three days
1 High altitude run
1 Earthquake today
1 Peruvian Birthday Party in the mountains today
1 Car crash to get there
2 Unsturdy bridges crossed to get there
1 Turn up the mountain in which all people in the back of the van were told to get out to get there
1 Bug visitor up my pants
It is hard to imagine that the last few days have only been a few days. On Friday afternoon we went to a party in the afternoon at the orphanage to celebrate El dia de la juventud. There we witnessed an espectulo of games consisting of parter dancing while holding an orange in between chins, feeding a partner and eating a whole plate of a disgusting looking purple jello like jam with raisins while blindfolded, and a bobbing for pepinos (cucumbers) contest. We left as the games were ending, before the cake was cut and more odd looking jello passed around, to attend our first meeting of the Club de Liones, which was eye opener in itself. Later that night we delt with the first round of food poisoning in our bathroom that randomly has working water. Mike Don rushed to the bathroom to find a flood because we didnt know we had left the sink on, when no water was running earlier.
Saturday morning we took a bus 6km out of the city to Los Baños del Inca, natural hotsprings. In our private hotsprings room we were finally able to run a hot tub and get clean. we spent the night eating cookies and apartment hunting.
Today started off early with a short run and the opportunity to shower! We stopped to explore the University on the way back to the city. Following the music and in search of the gym we were welcomed into a huge evangelic prayer group inside the gimnasio. This was just the beginning of our dia muy loca. We returned to Cajamarca in time to leave for a birthday party in the country with Alejandro (who has been helping us settle and job searching) and 80 others. The ride began with a small car crash in a city with no driving order. All was settled after going in cirlces, literally, and paying the other driver $100. It continued on a dirt road through the country, past farms of cows, pigs, sheep and horses, over very unsturdy bridges, up and through los Andes. The peruvians know how to party! From their own bar brought from Cajamarca, to two platos principales consisting of 4 different kinds of meat, sweet potatoes, an undistinguishable vegetable salad, rice and potatoes. The afternoon quickly turned into 60 drunk peruanos, surrounded by their kids, toasting to VIDA, SALUD, AMIGOS, and chanting DE LA CORAZON, DE LA CORAZON. It was no "the hills are alive with the sound of music" experience as this meal quickly did not agree with my stomach. It is back to a diet of cookies, bread, and plain cake. The party would not have been complete with out a visit to the family´s church built off their house. And of course birthday cake. The ride back was just as bit as exciting with 4 drunk, smoking men in the back. The most rowdy past out, only to awake and scream at the radio ´´VOLUMEN"
Tomorrow we start work and an apartment hunt and continue the diet of cookies with a side of asodophilus.
MY CONTACT PAGE GOT ERASED SO PLEASE EMAIL ME SO THAT I HAVE YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS.
DE LA CORAZON,
Becca
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
Todo es Nuevo
Today as I was eating my lunch of ceviche, I took a bite of the seemingly harmless red pepper on top of the platter and suddenly explosions went off and i began to cry, lose my hearing, have a pulsing headache and stuff a sweet potato in my mouth all at once. This small slice of red pepper was suprisingly the spiciest thing i have ever come face to face with in my life. It hands down won the face off. My mouth is still burning even after the ice cream.
On a brighter note today is the day we get a working toilet (and hopefully shower too). We have an apartment very close to the center of town that is in a government/office building related to the orphanage where we will be working. Moving in we had a bed and a basket of flowers with a card that read: Bienvenidos Michael y Esposa! Today we will have working electrical outlets, a table, a electric stove, and working toilet- so things are drastically improving.
We spent the morning shopping for our electric stove with 4 of the girls who live at the orphanage as our guides and then exploring the city. We ran into two sheep, many dogs, and some birds. It is like nowhere I have ever been before. The city is surrounded by beautiful mountains that I cant wait to explore. From all corners there is a breathtaking view. The city itself if very congested and busy. Streets are narrow and there is tons of construction. It seems to spread out forever.
The adjustment process has begun and definately will have its ups and downs but so far all looks well from Cajamarca.
On a brighter note today is the day we get a working toilet (and hopefully shower too). We have an apartment very close to the center of town that is in a government/office building related to the orphanage where we will be working. Moving in we had a bed and a basket of flowers with a card that read: Bienvenidos Michael y Esposa! Today we will have working electrical outlets, a table, a electric stove, and working toilet- so things are drastically improving.
We spent the morning shopping for our electric stove with 4 of the girls who live at the orphanage as our guides and then exploring the city. We ran into two sheep, many dogs, and some birds. It is like nowhere I have ever been before. The city is surrounded by beautiful mountains that I cant wait to explore. From all corners there is a breathtaking view. The city itself if very congested and busy. Streets are narrow and there is tons of construction. It seems to spread out forever.
The adjustment process has begun and definately will have its ups and downs but so far all looks well from Cajamarca.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Transition
Exactly four years and 3 months ago I was assigned for my final high school paper to ask myself and answer to the best of my ability what is home. Now, four years later, I find myself in a very similar situation of change and transition and once again have been thinking about this a lot. Here's what I came up with.
HOME n.
A place where one lives; a residence.
A dwelling place together with the family or social unit that occupies it; a household.
An environment offering security and happiness.
A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.
The place, such as a country or town, where one was born or has lived for a long period.
The native habitat, as of a plant or animal.
?
I turned over and kicked the sheets off. Rolling over on my right, I pulled the sheets back over my body. Tossing onto my stomach, followed by a frustrated hmph, I accepted that sleep was futile. I turned to the blinking alarm clock that read 3:09 a.m. Night was ever so slowly turning into morning. Only six minutes had passed since the last time I had looked at the clock. It had been a long six minutes. I was lying in the bed I had slept in for 5 years, in the room I had grown up in, in the house in which I became an adult. Yet, it felt as foreign as a hotel room or a night stop.
Its a really discomforting feeling when you realize that home is no longer the twin bed you slept every night for 15 years, the yard you played in or the table you ate countless meals at. Homeless.
Home at one point was
Hot chocolate chip cookies with a big glass of milk.
It was staying up late, giggling under the covers far past lights out time.
It was cramming four people in an extra long twin bed your freshman year of college.
It was ten bodies lying across a floor in a dorm room with a make-shift fort over head.
It was five people standing around in a kitchen big enough for two, eating cereal, leftovers, cookies, ice cream or whatever was available.
It was seven people, ranging from naked to completely clothed, squeezed in a shower.
It was waking up in the morning next to a person you love, listening to the rhythm of his/her breathing and realizing that there is no where you'd rather be.
Home was 231 Oxford Ave.
32 Lockwood Pl.
and 209 College Ave.
It was 11 Camp Rd., 301 Wilson House and an apartment on the 29th floor on 56th between Broadway and 8th.
Transition. In defining and creating home you must answer a what question and not a where. Yes, home is place where one lives, a residence, but it is so much more than that. You must constantly ask yourself if this physical structure is a place that you want to go to at the end of the day. A place where you where you don't have to pretend or put up a guard. It may be a place you can yell, walk around naked, or sing loudly. And what we look for in home changes. Once upon a time it may have been a bedtime story and a big teddy bear named Max Sir Peaks.
Since May 31st I have slept in over 20 beds in Wellsely, Weston, New Jersey, New York City to Chicago. No where has been a place I consider home. Homeless, Transition, Insanity- whatever you want to call it. This year 'home' will be somewhere in Peru. I don't know what it is exactly I am looking for or trying to create but I am going to try to find out- via experience. Its scary as hell, but its also really, really exciting.
HOME n.
A place where one lives; a residence.
A dwelling place together with the family or social unit that occupies it; a household.
An environment offering security and happiness.
A valued place regarded as a refuge or place of origin.
The place, such as a country or town, where one was born or has lived for a long period.
The native habitat, as of a plant or animal.
?
I turned over and kicked the sheets off. Rolling over on my right, I pulled the sheets back over my body. Tossing onto my stomach, followed by a frustrated hmph, I accepted that sleep was futile. I turned to the blinking alarm clock that read 3:09 a.m. Night was ever so slowly turning into morning. Only six minutes had passed since the last time I had looked at the clock. It had been a long six minutes. I was lying in the bed I had slept in for 5 years, in the room I had grown up in, in the house in which I became an adult. Yet, it felt as foreign as a hotel room or a night stop.
Its a really discomforting feeling when you realize that home is no longer the twin bed you slept every night for 15 years, the yard you played in or the table you ate countless meals at. Homeless.
Home at one point was
Hot chocolate chip cookies with a big glass of milk.
It was staying up late, giggling under the covers far past lights out time.
It was cramming four people in an extra long twin bed your freshman year of college.
It was ten bodies lying across a floor in a dorm room with a make-shift fort over head.
It was five people standing around in a kitchen big enough for two, eating cereal, leftovers, cookies, ice cream or whatever was available.
It was seven people, ranging from naked to completely clothed, squeezed in a shower.
It was waking up in the morning next to a person you love, listening to the rhythm of his/her breathing and realizing that there is no where you'd rather be.
Home was 231 Oxford Ave.
32 Lockwood Pl.
and 209 College Ave.
It was 11 Camp Rd., 301 Wilson House and an apartment on the 29th floor on 56th between Broadway and 8th.
Transition. In defining and creating home you must answer a what question and not a where. Yes, home is place where one lives, a residence, but it is so much more than that. You must constantly ask yourself if this physical structure is a place that you want to go to at the end of the day. A place where you where you don't have to pretend or put up a guard. It may be a place you can yell, walk around naked, or sing loudly. And what we look for in home changes. Once upon a time it may have been a bedtime story and a big teddy bear named Max Sir Peaks.
Since May 31st I have slept in over 20 beds in Wellsely, Weston, New Jersey, New York City to Chicago. No where has been a place I consider home. Homeless, Transition, Insanity- whatever you want to call it. This year 'home' will be somewhere in Peru. I don't know what it is exactly I am looking for or trying to create but I am going to try to find out- via experience. Its scary as hell, but its also really, really exciting.
