So as much as I don’t like the guys that work at the mine above my town, I must thank them for today’s lesson:
How to sew stitches.
Now before Michael Hirsh (the director of Peace Corps Peru) has a conniption and kicks me out of the program. I didn’t learn on a person! Let me tell the story before I get kicked out for practicing medicine (cause I totally didn’t on a person)
Ok so the story is needed. I was discussing how smelly these men at the mine are with the pharmacy technician in my town as we were collecting materials to go to the neighboring towns as the king of smelly walks in covered in blood accompanied by our lab technician who was about 3 seconds from fainting. We won’t get into why our lab technician can’t stand the sight of blood… but yes, this guy has a 6 inch gash in his arm and in his wisdom decided to tie off his arm with his shoe lace so that he could walk the 45 minutes from the mine to the Health Center (yeah the mine didn’t want to take him in the truck because it’s a waste of gas…).
So I had 2 reactions to this sight: 1. Oh dear lord that’s a ton of blood why did we have blood sausage for lunch, and 2. Cool! So I decided to let the emotions in reaction 2 take the wheel and follow the doctors into the exam room to do my usual helpful tasks (hand them the stuff they need or hold an IV because I’m taller than they are…basically act like furniture). Due to the fact that we didn’t have electricity and I’m an amazingly prepared Peace Corps volunteer I was asked to put my headlamp on and stare at this guys gash while holding an IV above my head. Yes I hope you all have a mental picture going…because I can assure you that it was a funny sight. Oh I forgot to mention this was at 7pm, aka time that the sun goes down in Peru so that’s why the Gringa’s headlamp was needed. This guy walked in with a 6in long, penetrating stab basically from a rock that shattered as he was picking it up. After getting the rock pieces out of the flap of skin (yeah it was cool to watch, just glad it wasn’t my arm because our numbing injection wasn’t helping the guy too much at this point). But I’m watching the doctor sew this guy up and let me tell you people it’s not as easy as it looks on Grey’s Anatomy people…at least not with hard Peruvian campo skin. Well apparently had a look of awe or “algo asi” (something like that) because the doctor asked me if I wanted to try. After explaining that we weren’t allowed to practice medicine in the Peace Corps (aka do anything doctor-y) and the look of “oh god please no” fell off the injured guy’s face Dr. Alex said afterwards I’d get to practice. I had no clue on what at this point--I was just too busy staring at this gash to provide light to question.
So after a good 45 minutes of sewing (this was a killer gash) and the guy’s all clean and “juntando” (together in one piece) and we explained that “no sir you cannot go back to work right now, you have a 6 in penetrating STAB wound from your work and you’re whole hand is numb…of course you can’t go back to work today you idiot” (ok we didn’t say it exactly like that…but it had that effect) Dr. Alex said it was time to practice. Me and the pharmacy technician decided to follow suit, with equal “what’s about to happen” stares. We close up the health center (it closes at 7 anyways) and went to a neighboring house where Dr. Alex asks about the ½ kilo of chicken that he asked for that morning (yeah you have to order your chicken in advance here so they can kill it and clean it) and walked back with his chicken to the Health Center.
Now to my Grey’s Anatomy fan friends, think the Christiana trying to help Burke with his hand episode. The Doctor cut the chicken to the bone and handed me a pair of gloves and the (cleaned) rest of this guys “sewing kit” and proceeded to instruct me on how to sew a stitch. It’s a lot easier on a chicken than it appeared to be on a person—so that made things easier. I don’t think it was the worst sewing job ever done in the history of the world…but it certainly wasn’t the prettiest. But the doctor said if the chicken wasn’t already dead and dismembered in 4ths that he probably would have survived with my sewing job…so that’s cool.
And no mom and dad, this does not mean I want to be a doctor—sorry, you’ll still have to look at Mike for the money in the family to pay for the really good nursing home for you guys. I’m the do-gooder—there’s never any money in that.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Knee Deep In Mud
A month into the rainy season has taught me a few things:
1. Never take a sunny day for granted. When you see sun, you should wash your laundry, even if you don’t need to that day, because you never know when you’ll see sun again.
2. You clothes can take up to a week and a half to dry.
3. My water-proof gortex boots, pants, and jacket were among the smartest of my packing choices.
4. It doesn’t really matter how good the traction is on your boots, 5 steps into walking you’ll have 2 pounds of mud affixed to the bottom no matter what.
5. Sometimes chacos are a better bet than boots. When you know you’ll sink knee deep into the mud, chacos are easier to wash off, and you can wear them wet unlike boots.
6. Peruvians have small feet, and I can’t find knee high rain boots in my size.
7. Bugs hate the rain too…so they go into hiding in your room if you don’t shove cardboard under your door when you’re not in your room. (oh and this system makes it a pain to use the bathroom at night)
8. It can still be 110 degrees outside when it’s raining. Yeah, that blew my mind too.
9. No one cares if you bring mud into their house, because their shoes are covered in mud too.
10. Electricity is amazing, and it sucks to live without it for 2 weeks when you have work that needs to get done on your computer.
11. There is a Peruvian radio station that plays American music (I discovered this when my iPod battery died and I couldn’t charge it due to lack of electricity)
12. Head Lamps are one of the greatest inventions ever made.
13. It is possible for a water pipe to get washed away by rain (…ironic no?) and leave a town waterless for a week.
14. It is possible to take a shower in the rain here in Peru and to prove it we have an outside shower stall (4 plastic sheets hanging from a tree) that I have used. It just takes a lil patience to get the shampoo out.
15. Ducks love the rain because it turns our patio into a lake, and they can ACTUALY swim in the water at times…it’s that deep.
16. It’s acceptable to call your pants that are covered in mud and have been worn for the past 4 days in a row your “good pants.”
17. Some days you can cross the river to make it out to Chiclayo…some days you can’t. Last week was a can’t, hopefully tomorrow is a can.
18. Brown water can be drunk. You just have to put it in a big bucket, wait a few hours for the crud to settle, pour out the stuff that looks clean into a towel over another bucket, and then boil it. And in my case cross my fingers that I still don’t get sick…eww.
Just a few things I’ve come to find over the past month. The rainy season’s been a very interesting time here in Nanchoc, and I’m told there’s another 2 more months to go…let’s just hope that the river plays nice and I can make it out for Reconnect in March, because I miss my Peace Corps people and wanna play on the beach with them!
1. Never take a sunny day for granted. When you see sun, you should wash your laundry, even if you don’t need to that day, because you never know when you’ll see sun again.
2. You clothes can take up to a week and a half to dry.
3. My water-proof gortex boots, pants, and jacket were among the smartest of my packing choices.
4. It doesn’t really matter how good the traction is on your boots, 5 steps into walking you’ll have 2 pounds of mud affixed to the bottom no matter what.
5. Sometimes chacos are a better bet than boots. When you know you’ll sink knee deep into the mud, chacos are easier to wash off, and you can wear them wet unlike boots.
6. Peruvians have small feet, and I can’t find knee high rain boots in my size.
7. Bugs hate the rain too…so they go into hiding in your room if you don’t shove cardboard under your door when you’re not in your room. (oh and this system makes it a pain to use the bathroom at night)
8. It can still be 110 degrees outside when it’s raining. Yeah, that blew my mind too.
9. No one cares if you bring mud into their house, because their shoes are covered in mud too.
10. Electricity is amazing, and it sucks to live without it for 2 weeks when you have work that needs to get done on your computer.
11. There is a Peruvian radio station that plays American music (I discovered this when my iPod battery died and I couldn’t charge it due to lack of electricity)
12. Head Lamps are one of the greatest inventions ever made.
13. It is possible for a water pipe to get washed away by rain (…ironic no?) and leave a town waterless for a week.
14. It is possible to take a shower in the rain here in Peru and to prove it we have an outside shower stall (4 plastic sheets hanging from a tree) that I have used. It just takes a lil patience to get the shampoo out.
15. Ducks love the rain because it turns our patio into a lake, and they can ACTUALY swim in the water at times…it’s that deep.
16. It’s acceptable to call your pants that are covered in mud and have been worn for the past 4 days in a row your “good pants.”
17. Some days you can cross the river to make it out to Chiclayo…some days you can’t. Last week was a can’t, hopefully tomorrow is a can.
18. Brown water can be drunk. You just have to put it in a big bucket, wait a few hours for the crud to settle, pour out the stuff that looks clean into a towel over another bucket, and then boil it. And in my case cross my fingers that I still don’t get sick…eww.
Just a few things I’ve come to find over the past month. The rainy season’s been a very interesting time here in Nanchoc, and I’m told there’s another 2 more months to go…let’s just hope that the river plays nice and I can make it out for Reconnect in March, because I miss my Peace Corps people and wanna play on the beach with them!
Its a Hard Knock Life
First of all I just wanted to apologize to the people that actually read these blogs (well I hope there are people who read these, or I’m basically talking to myself…eh oh well) about how long it’s been since I’ve been able to post. I usually only make it into civilization once a month. But the good news is this blog should be good!
Well where to start, oh, the phones. Ok so as I’m sure I’ve told most of you, or possibly written before, there is not internet or cell phone at my site. Therefore every member of my group here in Peru has probably forgotten that I exist since I can never communicate. And up until Jan 17th we had phone service in my site…yes I said up till. On Jan 17th at 9:30am the mayor cut all of the phone lines to Nanchoc because there are some people who haven’t paid their bill in a year (yeah Peruvians aren’t real good about setting deadlines.) And the gringo in town (me) was the first to discover that there was no cell phone reception when I tried to be an amazing sister and use an ENTIRE phone card to call my brother’s cell phone and say happy birthday. At first we thought just the Health Center’s line got cut. The line hangs low in the road and if a stranger to town passes by with a load too high—snap, there goes our line. But no, everyone’s phone line was cut. And this of course doesn’t affect our lovely mayor, because he doesn’t live here, he’s lives in Chiclayo (yeah go figure)but up until a few days ago, (like Feb 1st) we were without any means of communication, then after a mini riot the mayor was forced to open the only pay phone in town. So I used a whole phone card to call home and let the rents know that I’m not dead on the side of a Peruvian road. (Sorry you weren’t home mom!)
Hmm what else is new? Oh yeah, I had my bosses come to visit me yesterday (the 4th) just to check in and make sure that I’m still alive. We had a charla (educational session) with mothers of children under the age of 3 about food preparation and nutrition. It went pretty well. I didn’t give the charla, the Health Promoters that I’ve been helping train gave it, their first charla! I was so proud, they did amazing. But my bosses seemed pleased with everything, except for the rain (it’s been raining for the past week straight). And thanks to Mom and Terry, Tommy, and Ted for the magazines that you all sent, I shared the wealth and passed them along with my bosses to give to the other volunteer’s they’ll see this week. Besides most of them had articles on Obama and nothing else…and we all know I don’t want to talk about that.
But the highlight of the past few weeks has been that this week my host mom finally came back from Lima!! So I don’t have to be Chef Jenny anymore! How wonderful. And she didn’t come back alone, she brought my Host sister Isabel and her daughter Ingrid. Isabel is awesome; she’s 25, it’s been really great to have someone my age in the house. And Her daughter is…well timid. This girl is afraid of everything: Donkeys, cows, goats, chickens, roosters, ducks, and insects…yeah and she’s in the campo of Peru, we’re surrounded by these things. The poor girl. Today was a very traumatic day for a 5 year old. The day started off with my dad killing a goat because we have 14 people eating at our house every day (another story I’ll get to in a second), and Ingrid thinks that killing animals is wrong…god I know, she’s crazy. Its Discovery Kids fault—the show with the daughter of the Crocodile Hunter says not to kill animals…or so I’ve been told a hundred times now as Ingrid’s eating her chicken…yeah I’m confused too. And she cried and stared with horror as I help Don Jose cut the goat into portions separate the “good internal parts” from the “bad internal parts” (yeah I had goat liver, lungs, and heart stew for breakfast this morning…it was as gross as it sounds). But as if that’s not enough trauma for an animal loving 5 year old…today when I was washing my laundry (on the only sunny day we’ve had in forever) I hear a death scream coming from the room where we keep the cuys (Guinea Pigs) and baby chickens and turkeys. So naturally I go running to see who is dying. Turns out it’s not who was dying, it’s what was dying. Ingrid was jumping into the room with the animals…and well…squished a baby turkey. And it was still alive, she had stepped on its butt, and its guts had shot out of its mouth. So naturally thinking of the tramitized child before the turkey I pick her up and leave the room, and my mom yells at me for not killing the turkey first…go figure. But it’s ok, I had the crying kid; she killed the turkey with her foot. So this sequence of events is obviously enough to send any kids over the edge. But as with any good story, that’s not the end of it.
So right now it’s Carnival here in Peru. Now I’ll be honest, I really have no clue what that means aside from an excuse for dirty old men to throw water at women and children walking in the streets. But on this ONE day without rain, as Ingrid and I walked to finish a mural I’m painting in the Health Center a group of boys threw a bucket of water with pig blood on us (yes intentionally). Ingrid started balling (for the 4th time today) as I started fussing out in a mixture of Spanish and English at these boys. Yeah ok so I still can’t fuss people out very well in Spanish. “F you” translates anger better than me saying “that’s just not nice” in Spanish. So as we return to the house to change…the rain starts back up. So As I’m tying this, my clothes are hanging on the line…and getting a second rinse cycle (well ok they never has a first since I wash by hand…but just go with it). So all in all, it’s been a hard day to be 5 years old.
And back to the 14 people eating at my house story. So above my town there is a Slate Mine that no one from Nanchoc wants to work, the people here would rather work their land, so the company brings in people from outside to work—and they of course need to eat. Since my host mom runs one of 3 “eateries” in town (and she’s the better cook) they are all eating here. These guys are pigs. I have no clue who the heck taught them to eat, but they need to go back for a refresher course. They somehow manage to get more food on the table or benches than in their stomach. But the only good part of them eating at my house is they all really think that I’m the 7th child of my host mom (the girls in the family are “gringo” in skin color—aka a lil more pasty than the average Peruvian). So heck yeah! I actually have passed off as a Peruvian at least until I talk…then it’s obvious that I’m either not from round here, or I’m just special...
Well where to start, oh, the phones. Ok so as I’m sure I’ve told most of you, or possibly written before, there is not internet or cell phone at my site. Therefore every member of my group here in Peru has probably forgotten that I exist since I can never communicate. And up until Jan 17th we had phone service in my site…yes I said up till. On Jan 17th at 9:30am the mayor cut all of the phone lines to Nanchoc because there are some people who haven’t paid their bill in a year (yeah Peruvians aren’t real good about setting deadlines.) And the gringo in town (me) was the first to discover that there was no cell phone reception when I tried to be an amazing sister and use an ENTIRE phone card to call my brother’s cell phone and say happy birthday. At first we thought just the Health Center’s line got cut. The line hangs low in the road and if a stranger to town passes by with a load too high—snap, there goes our line. But no, everyone’s phone line was cut. And this of course doesn’t affect our lovely mayor, because he doesn’t live here, he’s lives in Chiclayo (yeah go figure)but up until a few days ago, (like Feb 1st) we were without any means of communication, then after a mini riot the mayor was forced to open the only pay phone in town. So I used a whole phone card to call home and let the rents know that I’m not dead on the side of a Peruvian road. (Sorry you weren’t home mom!)
Hmm what else is new? Oh yeah, I had my bosses come to visit me yesterday (the 4th) just to check in and make sure that I’m still alive. We had a charla (educational session) with mothers of children under the age of 3 about food preparation and nutrition. It went pretty well. I didn’t give the charla, the Health Promoters that I’ve been helping train gave it, their first charla! I was so proud, they did amazing. But my bosses seemed pleased with everything, except for the rain (it’s been raining for the past week straight). And thanks to Mom and Terry, Tommy, and Ted for the magazines that you all sent, I shared the wealth and passed them along with my bosses to give to the other volunteer’s they’ll see this week. Besides most of them had articles on Obama and nothing else…and we all know I don’t want to talk about that.
But the highlight of the past few weeks has been that this week my host mom finally came back from Lima!! So I don’t have to be Chef Jenny anymore! How wonderful. And she didn’t come back alone, she brought my Host sister Isabel and her daughter Ingrid. Isabel is awesome; she’s 25, it’s been really great to have someone my age in the house. And Her daughter is…well timid. This girl is afraid of everything: Donkeys, cows, goats, chickens, roosters, ducks, and insects…yeah and she’s in the campo of Peru, we’re surrounded by these things. The poor girl. Today was a very traumatic day for a 5 year old. The day started off with my dad killing a goat because we have 14 people eating at our house every day (another story I’ll get to in a second), and Ingrid thinks that killing animals is wrong…god I know, she’s crazy. Its Discovery Kids fault—the show with the daughter of the Crocodile Hunter says not to kill animals…or so I’ve been told a hundred times now as Ingrid’s eating her chicken…yeah I’m confused too. And she cried and stared with horror as I help Don Jose cut the goat into portions separate the “good internal parts” from the “bad internal parts” (yeah I had goat liver, lungs, and heart stew for breakfast this morning…it was as gross as it sounds). But as if that’s not enough trauma for an animal loving 5 year old…today when I was washing my laundry (on the only sunny day we’ve had in forever) I hear a death scream coming from the room where we keep the cuys (Guinea Pigs) and baby chickens and turkeys. So naturally I go running to see who is dying. Turns out it’s not who was dying, it’s what was dying. Ingrid was jumping into the room with the animals…and well…squished a baby turkey. And it was still alive, she had stepped on its butt, and its guts had shot out of its mouth. So naturally thinking of the tramitized child before the turkey I pick her up and leave the room, and my mom yells at me for not killing the turkey first…go figure. But it’s ok, I had the crying kid; she killed the turkey with her foot. So this sequence of events is obviously enough to send any kids over the edge. But as with any good story, that’s not the end of it.
So right now it’s Carnival here in Peru. Now I’ll be honest, I really have no clue what that means aside from an excuse for dirty old men to throw water at women and children walking in the streets. But on this ONE day without rain, as Ingrid and I walked to finish a mural I’m painting in the Health Center a group of boys threw a bucket of water with pig blood on us (yes intentionally). Ingrid started balling (for the 4th time today) as I started fussing out in a mixture of Spanish and English at these boys. Yeah ok so I still can’t fuss people out very well in Spanish. “F you” translates anger better than me saying “that’s just not nice” in Spanish. So as we return to the house to change…the rain starts back up. So As I’m tying this, my clothes are hanging on the line…and getting a second rinse cycle (well ok they never has a first since I wash by hand…but just go with it). So all in all, it’s been a hard day to be 5 years old.
And back to the 14 people eating at my house story. So above my town there is a Slate Mine that no one from Nanchoc wants to work, the people here would rather work their land, so the company brings in people from outside to work—and they of course need to eat. Since my host mom runs one of 3 “eateries” in town (and she’s the better cook) they are all eating here. These guys are pigs. I have no clue who the heck taught them to eat, but they need to go back for a refresher course. They somehow manage to get more food on the table or benches than in their stomach. But the only good part of them eating at my house is they all really think that I’m the 7th child of my host mom (the girls in the family are “gringo” in skin color—aka a lil more pasty than the average Peruvian). So heck yeah! I actually have passed off as a Peruvian at least until I talk…then it’s obvious that I’m either not from round here, or I’m just special...
Thursday, January 22, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
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
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
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
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.
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 :)
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 :)
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