Hello, I'm Mike Ross, And This is Dirty Jobs

Ok so I’m not Mike Ross, but I sure as heck have felt like him over the past few days. So I’d like to think that you all know what Dirty Jobs is (after all the people reading this are either friends or family and let’s face it, we love that show), but just in the case that one of you haven’t a clue: Dirty Jobs is where a man named Mike Ross travels the country looking for the Dirtiest Job. He doesn’t just look for the jobs, he does the job for the day, it usually involves animals (the animal itself or their poop), trash, or just a ton of dirt. Well as it usually goes, Mike tries to do every job while under the instruction of the actual person who has that job--the other dude/chick usually is WAY better at the job than Mike, and thus we have the comedic part of the show--Mike usually sucks at these jobs, well at least at first.

So back to my point, I have been Mike Ross over the past week or so. To set the frame, my host Mom is in Lima because her daughter is sick, so she has been gone for about 2 weeks now. Then there is the Flu that’s been going around my town (but thanks to my Flu shot a la Peace Corps, I’m still going strong) that took my Host Dad as its next victim this week. So Cleo (the professor that lives at my house) has stuck around this week to help me “run the house.” So I have a few interesting stories to go with the “running of the house” that is Dirty Jobs material…

First let’s start with Cows, they’re always on Dirty Jobs, so it just seems fitting. Well we are in the rainy season here, which has NOTHING on a rain NC summer, let me tell you what. It pretty much pours from lunch time till 3am, we have precious few hours without rain where Mr. Sun reminds us that he does exist…not that any work with cows is does while the sun is out. So Cleo and I walked the 1/3 of a mile to the cow pasture, a distance that should take maybe 10 minutes, 15 if we’re walking at a Peruvian pace…but we’re about shin deep in mud and my Chacos have become encased in mud, and Cleo has her flip flops in her hand cause they aren’t doing her any good on her feet. About 20 meters (yeah I think in meters now) from the gate Cleo eats it in the mud (hey its 5am and its hard to see, how was she supposed to see that rock?). Now my conscious had a short battle between laughing and helping, but it chose laughing while helping her up as the best route…well within 3 steps of helping her up, I fall into the mud. Now you all are probably thinking this is funny. Yes, that it is. But the clean bucket we had to carry the milk back in is now dirty. So we have to walk another 30 minutes (due to mud our pace was slow) to the river to wash off the bucket. We finally make it back to the pasture with a clean bucket, rope the cow, get some milk, and begin the dangerous trip back to the house…needless to say we came pretty dern close to crying over spilled milk. Not too dirty you’re thinking (well I didn’t have my camera to take a picture of how muddy we were) but it was funny.

Now pigs eat everything and anything…one of the reasons I usually try not to think about what any given pig here has eaten when part of it is on my plate during the day here…but our pigs, I know EXACTLY what they eat. Nasty watery leftovers/stuff that went bad/old burnt rice from the bottom of the pot, ect. And we store it in a bucket until it’s time to carry it in a jug to the farm house to feed the pigs. Now this usually is an easy job, but we had a ton of relatives pass through the other day so there was way more “pig water” (as we call it) than usual. And since Don Jose is sick, there was no Donkey to carry the heavy load…just a Jenny (which as Wendy and Leslie pointed out to me our freshman year means a female donkey…so it’s totally fitting). So I carried this 8Kg jug full of…muck…for 40 minutes because we were walking in the mud to the farm house. Then it’s Cleo’s job to give it to the pigs, because I just don’t like the smell. Well she didn’t realize how heavy the jug was and splashed the both of us with the pig water in the process of feeding the pigs. So we are now covered from head to toe in yesterdays nastiness, and to make it worse, my mouth was open so I had pig water IN MY MOUTH. Yeah, that’s Mike Ross material. To put insult to injury, since we smelled like pig water, the flies thought we were a walking birthday present during the 40 minute walk back to the house…

Then the Dog ate one of the ducks, and just left another dead for me to find...



Then today (Jan 22) we were all prepared to make chick peas to go with our rice and chicken…the only problem, this pesky little bug that loves to eat grains had beaten us to the idea and had put tiny little holes in probably 2/3 of the peas we had. So rather than admitting defeat like Don Jose and I said, Cleo decides to boil them for a while, kill the bugs, and pick out the bad ones. Great plan on paper…needless to say I was picking around chick peas with insects popping out of them all during lunch and trying my damndest not to bust out laughing and let the lunch guest in on our little secret. I’ve never examined my food so close before eating. But somehow the Senor that eats with us managed not to see the sea of insects that he was eating…thank god. Ok so not very Mike Ross, but funny.

Then for a not so dirty, but still alittle Mike Ross-ish moment. Cleo and I were pealing garlic (like 6 heads of it) to mash and store in an open container by our open wood burning stove (I need to work on that). And apparently I suck at pealing garlic at a Peruvian Pace…I thought I was doing pretty good…for every 1 I pealed, she had finished about 10. There goes my ego.

Well for now I’m heading up to the other pasture (yeah we have a ton of them) to go and grab some Wan abanas(I spelled that wrong…but I don’t know any other way), I’m about 99% sure it’s a bread fruit in English. A big ol green blob that’s got little white pods with seeds in the middle. Kinda tastes like yogurt…but not really at the same time. It’s a complicated flavor, but its amazing, so I’m going to go brave the mud to grab a few before the rain comes in.

It's Like Christmas Day...on Jan 13th

Hey everybody so I know that I’ve posted a lot of blogs recently…but lets face it I think you all like to read them, so it’s ok. The reason that I’ve been fortunate enough to have this much access to internet is because the SERPOST people in customs hate me. I came into Chiclayo on Monday with every intention of being a good Peace Corps Volunteer and going back to my site the next day on the next bus…but the guy at customs didn’t like that plan. I waited in line for 4 hours to fight this guy to get the package that my Outdoor Leadership professors, Ted, Tommy, and Terry sent me, and the package that Liz and her boys that I babysat sent me. Now normally I’m sure it wouldn’t have been this much of a hassle to get the boxes…or so I’m going to tell myself…but since the Peace Corps has my official government issued passport, all I have is a copy and a letter saying that the Peace Corps has my passport. Well to the guy at customs that just wasn’t sufficient. Now in the states I would have just said, “Ok fine, I’ll come back when I have my real passport back in 2 months.” The problem is in Peru they only hold packages in customs for a month…and the deadline was creeping up on my packages before they were to be sent BACK to the United States. Yikes.

So after realizing that Customs’ man hates me, I sent to solicit help from my favorite lady who works at the front desk (the place where I go to get my mail that doesn’t go through customs—basically if it’s less than 2 lbs and isn’t in a box she gets it, otherwise it goes to evil customs man) to see if she had any ideas. Well my lady apparently is the boss (wo)man and was not happy that evil customs man was making life hard for her gringos (she loves us Peace Corps people because we share the candy we get sent with her…so thanks guys!). Boss lady turned into this dude’s mom in 3.5 seconds doing everything but grabbing him by the ear and spanking him. I’ll call it explaining, because that sounds more polite than fussing out, to evil customs man that I can only make it into Chiclayo ever so often, and that due to all this rain we’ve been getting I probably won’t be able to make it back for a very long time. And that I have given him an official document that states that my passport is in the hands of the government and they’re sorry for the trouble, but give me the damn package. Yeah! Way to go boss lady!

Needless to say after 4 hours of this, I made it out of SERPOST with 10 envelopes from (yes this is time to thank you all by name…think of it like the Oscars):
My mom (of course she’s my mom!)
Mr. and Mrs. Shelhorse
Liz Stankavage and her boys that I used to babysit (Liz I LOVE the pictures of the boys, they have gotten so big! And tell Brooks that he looks amazing in his glasses)
Mr. and Mrs. Pickett
Anna Myers
Kacie Ross and the RHS Field Hockey Team (haha ok I have to giggle, that sounds like a really funny band name)
Ted, Terry, and Tommy-my Outdoor Leadership Profs (with some super wicked cool gear as Terry says)

Thanks to everyone who sent me all the goodies, I’m pretty sure I’ve made about 5lbs of candy, 2lbs of beef jerky (yumm) and all sorts of cool random stuff (just how I like it--nice and random!)

But back to the story as to why I’m still in Chiclayo (sorry I got distracted by all the goodies). $ hours from when SERPOST opens just happens to be noon…the time that if I am taking the bus back to Nanchoc I should probably be on my way to the bus terminal…or there already if I want a seat that’s not infested with chicken poo…hey I live in the country, it’s how people transport them. So I was running back to my hostel with a bag full of goodies and 2 boxes, make it back by 12:15 realize that CRAP I haven’t packed any of my stuff yet and I still have way too much stuff to do on the internet to leave right now. So I called Emilia (my boss in Lima) and begged to stay longer to look for more things on the internet and to finish buying stuff for my room, and thankfully she agreed. I love this woman! She’s so understanding of when we volunteers have a problem and very good about helping us find/or use a solution to make our lives easier. So thanks to Emilia’s awesome-ness I have had more time in the internet to look up more plans for Improved wood burning stoves (cocinas mejoradas), wood burning ovens (people in my town really seem to want them, I know it’s not really part of my Health Program’s goals…but I’ll consider it a secondary project), a really cool website www.biology4kids.com and its counter websites www.physics4kids.com and I think there’s a geography, earth science, and other cool 4kids parts too. So I have realized talking to parents and kids in my site that their science classes are NOT like ours. I remember the science fairs in middle school (yeah I know all the parents reading this just shuttered from the memories…but thanks for helping us guys!) then I need to get going to look up some more latrine plans and some AIDS/HIV stuff in Spanish for my health center.

But I hope that you all have enjoyed the blogs and the pictures. And if any of you want a giggle. My group made a rap video on YouTube

Murphy’s Law of Sickness

So damn if Murphy didn’t know his shit... Just the other day I was talking with the nurse at my health center about how surprised I was that I hadn’t gotten really sick yet. Let’s face it with the chicken hanging from a hook for a day before we eat it, and the electricity coming and going I don’t even want to think about the fish and milk in the fridge, getting sick is bound to happen. But not 2 days after having this conversation with the nurse…that rumbling in my stomach started up and you know you’re in for a FUN fill adventure in potty land. Yes I am aware of the fact that that sounds like the name to a child’s potty training book…but trust me, it needs a happy name-- it’s no fun.

There is nothing like waking up at 3am and battling the lizards, spiders, and cats to make it to the restroom with…we’ll just call it issues. Now normally I’m a good Peace Corps Volunteer and I wait a day to see if it’ll pass before I take the magic pill (Ciprofloxacine) to make it all better…but people this time was BAD, so George and Suni (our doctors) I hope ya’ll can forgive me, but I was not willing to wait a day. So pop goes the magic pill and the waiting begins. This was a horrid day, Cipro and all. My host mom thought I was dying…for a while I too thought I was dying. Stomach cramps so bad I was crying, the aforementioned…issues…not being able to keep anything down. As we say here in Peru, it hit with FUERZA! (Force/Strength). Now I won’t go into details, God knows you all don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to remember it. But I am sure as HECK glad that I packed my Gatorade in my suitcase. A. there is nothing even remotely similar to Gatorade here in my town, and B. the electrolyte tablets in our first aid kit are gross. In addition I would like to thank myself for thinking in advance and purchasing saltines in Chiclayo when I was there last because “they always come in handy.” Damn I’m good sometimes.

And really when you’re sick the only thing you want to do is sleep and take care of the issues. But since its Christmas time (the 27th of Dec, aka sick day) my house is BUSTING with family, normally I’m cool with family, more people to talk to and more stories to hear. But when you’re sick that just means it’s that many more people to come in and ask “are you ok?” or in the case of the 2 ½ year old “are you dying?” I felt the love, but I just wanted to sleep. Peruvians also have some weird homemade remedies…and yes I got to try them all. So I have drunk a tea made from the peel of a pomegranate (we have a tree in my yard), tricked into drinking a shot of canazo (really gross shine made from sugar cane) mixed with sugar and who knows what, and had an egg passed over my body (yeah I don’t know, it apparently sucks up the bad stuff…). Fun times.

But enough with the sickness! The next day I went with the Health Center staff “fishing” at the river. Now when I think fishing I think of a rod or pole with a hook on the end, be it a spinner or a fly rod. Well fishing Peruvian style means hunting for crayfish! Haha so much fun! I had flashbacks to being 11 and searching for them in the creek near my house at Kitchener Ct. with Lauren Bilski. I took some pictures I’ll try to upload but the funniest moments went photo-less. Walter, the lab technician screaming like a little girl when the crayfish bit back, us deciding to follow Carlos’s “shortcut” which lead us 30 minutes out of the way in the backwoods of Peru (thank god the Gringa is a Boy Scout at heart and had her headlamp since the sun had set mid being lost), and then the “how to gut a crayfish” lesson that followed. I’m just sad that we were unable to cook up a chowder with the days catch (about a kilo…so 2.2lbs) because there is a pregnant woman in a nearby town currently giving birth across the street in the health center and all hands are on deck since the OB-GYN is out of town. Well almost all hands, since I know nothing about child-birthing I figured I would be of more help by not being around. And since I don’t know the woman, I’m sure she’s happy not having a stranger in the room.



Currently I am taking a break from making my very own crayfish catching net from the old mosquito net that Andrew left behind and typing up this blog. But I figure you all will be very proud to know that there is Duct Tape involved…because we all know that it’s required in any homemade device. Hopefully it works…I’ll keep you all updated.

Christmas--Nanchoc Style

Hey everyone!! It’s now 5 days until Christmas and I’m sure there are a ton of Christmas cookies being baked, eaten, and shared going on back at home (eat up, I haven’t had any Christmas cookies this year). I know that I won’t get to post this until after Christmas when I make it back to Chiclayo but I just wanted to say MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS/HAPPY NEW YEAR to everyone back home! I miss ya’ll a ton! Take in the Christmas tree smell for me…there is no such thing as an evergreen where I am…unless a cactus counts…which in my mind it does not.

So Christmas Peruvian style:
Just like in the states, Peruvians eat turkey for Christmas…now in a place where there are grocery stores with a supply and demand market, you know that 95% of the time you’ll be able to find a turkey for the big day as long as you don’t procrastinate too much right? Well in Peru its home-grown turkeys, and this year, there apparently are not enough to go around. So it’s been really funny listening to people talk about the ways they’ve protected their turkeys (here in Peru you buy it still gobbling a few weeks before and fatten it up for Christmas day in your yard):
-Tie it to the tall part of the tree and put food up high so it doesn’t hurt itself trying to get down to eat. Ok so the rational here is that Peruvians are short and wouldn’t be able to climb this prickly tree without his ladder that is hidden…all of 3 meters from the tree by a towel. That and turkeys really do like to hang out in trees, happy bird, happy family.
-The turkey sleeps in the bedroom with the family. Ok so my inner health promoter is just cringing at this thought…we work so hard to keep the animals OUT of the houses…and their poop out of the houses. But this story is just funny enough that it might be ok to overlook the turkey poop in the kitchen. So this family ties the turkey to the bedpost at night. Rational: turkey thieves come at night…this is true.

But my family is lucky enough to be one of the ones that raise turkeys, so I know that my family will have a turkey. Why am I so certain that my family’s turkey won’t get yanked you might ask? Well she’s a crazy ass dog that’s tied up in front of our chicken/turkey house. So Don Jose (my Peruvian dad) either bought or was gifted a set of puppies, one is mentally challenged after an incident with a brick to the head…so obviously he’s not going to stop a turkey thief…it’s his twin sister that’s the devil in doggie form. Ok well she’s really not the devil-- she’s just ADHD like no other and is the most hyper thing I’ve ever seen in my life. So hyper in fact that she is tied to the tree in front of the chicken house all day every day. Now I have tried to walk by her without dying…it can’t be done, I have the scratch marks to prove it. So my family doesn’t have to worry about being turkey less this year. In addition, I think we have around 10 turkeys that we are safe guarding for family friends (let’s face it the devil-dog watch system is bullet proof…ok bad choice of words…). But I was doing some calculations the other day. Dona Julia, my host mom said that turkeys are going for S./12 a kilo…that’s roughly S./24 a pound, which is like $8 a pound…now I don’t remember how much a turkey costs in the states, but I sure as heck know that we’ve never paid that much for a turkey…I don’t think.

But in addition to turkey, Peruvians do Paneton…Now Paneton is like fruit cake. Ok you can all stop making that gross face. I said it’s LIKE fruit cake, not that it is. This stuff is actually pretty good. Like all other made-in-Peru things, when I first tried it…I kinda wanted to throw up in my mouth just a little…but now, I LOVE IT. So it’s this big muffin looking piece of bread (like 7” in diameter, and a foot tall) with little candied fruit in it…but the Paneton I had last night at the health promoters Christmas party had…dun, dun, dun, CHOCOLATE!!! It was amazing. So in the states, Christmas supper is turkey, dressing (or stuffing for my Yankee friends), mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes in some form (or maybe that’s just a southern thing too), green veggies, bread, gravy. Here it’s Paneton and turkey with hot coco. Yeah my stomach was a little disappointed, but its good food, and here it’s expensive food. So Peruvian’s bust out the good stuff on Christmas day.

I was fortunate enough to be gifted a Paneton and a can of milk (yeah it comes in cans, old school huh?) by the health post (Cajamarca RED, aka the boss man, gifted Panetons and Milk to all the health centers/posts in their RED…oh yeah a RED is a network). So my family and I are either going to enjoy it for Christmas supper, or for the going away party of Cleo, my house mate. She’s a teacher at the local school, so she’s only here for the school year (in Peru it’s from April to December), so we might throw her a little party…not sure yet.

The health center also had a party (so I’ve had a lot of Paneton, turkey, and duck…we had duck at this party) where we played Secret Santa (Amigo Secreto). Now since I believe that I am a boy scout at heart (always prepared) I happened to have…are you ready…2 Christmas presents with me when I came to my sight for just such circumstances. God I’m good sometimes…haha. So I did my best ghetto-wrapping job I could (because I didn’t know that you buy wrapping paper in Peru in single serving pieces and I didn’t want a whole roll…rolls are not done here in Peru. But I took an envelope that my mom had sent me some leaves in that was the nice and thick paper but not quite cardboard material, unfolded it, reversed it so it was brown side out, and decorated paper (computer paper size) in red, white, and green, and taped it to the front. People laughed at the Gringo and asked if that’s how we wrap presents in the States…because apparently the guy before me here in Nanchoc did something similar.


Well I’m going to cut this blog here, figuring that I’ll write another one before my trip to Chiclayo. But Happy Holidays everyone! Love you all, Miss you all!

and here's the Turkey that we...sacrificed...for christmas...enjoy :)