Friday, September 25, 2009
Salute Your Shorts
Schwartz. It’s a hard last name to pronounce correctly. I vaguely remember learning in a German class that it is actually spelled and pronounced wrong and should be the German word for black. Who knows. All I know is that for approximately 18 years of my life (Aka all the years I spent in school and college) I’ve been called Jennifer Shorts. I was unaware of how hard it is for the average American to say Schwartz. I don’t remember ever having difficulty with it, but I guess I need to ask my parents to get the real answer for that…because I honestly don’t remember learning my last name. I remember how freaking hard it was for me to remember to spell Elizabeth. Looking back on it I can’t for the life of me see why…but I always wanted to write Elezebeth. Guess I liked the letter e a lot.
I remember there was one classmate of mine, who I hate only for this one act because otherwise she is an amazing person. But she said to me one day “Hey there Jenny Salute your Shorts.” Not sure if anyone remembers that tv program that came on Nick, Salute your Shorts, it was about a summer camp and the kids that lived there. I don’t remember anything else, just the impact of the day that she said that phrase. Since then, I’ve been called “Jenny Salute your Shorts” at least 2,000 times in my life. It’s always irritated me. I never really cared if it’s that much easier to say Shorts than Schwartz. I learned to say all the Jewish, Spanish, Czech, and African last names of some of my friends…why’s mine so hard? Akin, I’ll say yours was especially hard.
But how ever hard it is for an English speaker (a Germanic language) to say my German last name—it is SO much harder for a Spanish speaker to even attempt it. But recently every one of my students has started an unofficial competition to see who can, in fact, say my name correctly. So just try to get the mental image of Spanish speakers trying to say my name.
Eswitz
Esctich
Eswwwwwatz
Eswwwwiwwwthcs
Oh the list just keeps going on, but usually there is a face made with each pronunciation. At first they pause to think, then they build up the courage to start with an S, well really an Es because an S is never alone in Spanish, and then as they try to take over the next syllable inevitably they raise an eyebrow or shut an eye as they round 3rd base and try to take on the final syllable the Z sound. It’s an ordeal that they just try over and over again, each time I repeat it the way it should be and they try once again in vain.
Then finally one day, I did the unthinkable…I can’t to this moment even believe that I did it. I told them to say it Shorts. Not just because it’s like WAY easier to say, but because it’s a word that they actually know. Even in Spanish, Shorts is Shorts. So apparently I have made myself Jenny Shorts once again…and I spent all of college being so happy that I got rid of the Shorts. But it seems to be working. Shorts in Spanish sounds scarily similar to Schwartz with the accent. Go figure.
So call me Jenny Salute you Shorts for a little while longer. It’s just easier.
I remember there was one classmate of mine, who I hate only for this one act because otherwise she is an amazing person. But she said to me one day “Hey there Jenny Salute your Shorts.” Not sure if anyone remembers that tv program that came on Nick, Salute your Shorts, it was about a summer camp and the kids that lived there. I don’t remember anything else, just the impact of the day that she said that phrase. Since then, I’ve been called “Jenny Salute your Shorts” at least 2,000 times in my life. It’s always irritated me. I never really cared if it’s that much easier to say Shorts than Schwartz. I learned to say all the Jewish, Spanish, Czech, and African last names of some of my friends…why’s mine so hard? Akin, I’ll say yours was especially hard.
But how ever hard it is for an English speaker (a Germanic language) to say my German last name—it is SO much harder for a Spanish speaker to even attempt it. But recently every one of my students has started an unofficial competition to see who can, in fact, say my name correctly. So just try to get the mental image of Spanish speakers trying to say my name.
Eswitz
Esctich
Eswwwwwatz
Eswwwwiwwwthcs
Oh the list just keeps going on, but usually there is a face made with each pronunciation. At first they pause to think, then they build up the courage to start with an S, well really an Es because an S is never alone in Spanish, and then as they try to take over the next syllable inevitably they raise an eyebrow or shut an eye as they round 3rd base and try to take on the final syllable the Z sound. It’s an ordeal that they just try over and over again, each time I repeat it the way it should be and they try once again in vain.
Then finally one day, I did the unthinkable…I can’t to this moment even believe that I did it. I told them to say it Shorts. Not just because it’s like WAY easier to say, but because it’s a word that they actually know. Even in Spanish, Shorts is Shorts. So apparently I have made myself Jenny Shorts once again…and I spent all of college being so happy that I got rid of the Shorts. But it seems to be working. Shorts in Spanish sounds scarily similar to Schwartz with the accent. Go figure.
So call me Jenny Salute you Shorts for a little while longer. It’s just easier.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Dear Peru 14 Volunteers
Dear Peru 14 volunteers,
Seeing as how you are all currently in the “holy heck I’m really leaving the country” mindset and trying to decided what in the world should really go into those 2 checked bags that we’re allotted I figured I’d try to help ya’ll out a little. Assuming that you’re all blog stalking like we were before we left the country.
Things I’d have died without:
-My Backpacking hammock—crucial for any excursion to a caserio that winds up lasting WAY longer than intended, also amazing for sticky, hot summer afternoons.
-Laptop—I would not have survived the rainy season (well at least the part that had electricity) without the ability to watch a movie in English.
-External Hard drive—Great for stealing music from your friends…even if you think you won’t listen to it you will. Just wait for the rainy season.
-Rain Jacket and Rain Pants and Gortex boots—yes you see a theme, rain sucks. I was happy I was able to stay dry.
-Hiking Pack—I feel very much like a donkey at times carrying all the stuff we need to give charlas…so the pack just makes that all easier. In addition a Camel Back will make the pack even better.
-Leather Work gloves—I do a lot of shoveling/pick axing/handling metal or animal crud, sometimes it’s just nice to not have to worry about blisters or cutting or burning your hands.
-SUNGLASSES—the sun is just that much stronger here. Even if you didn’t wear them in the States you’ll want them here.
-Chacos—I will have a permanent chaco tan line by the time I’ve completed my Peace Corps service because I wear them 75% of the time, the other 25% it’s either pouring rain and I’m in boots or I’m hiking really far.
-Leatherman—dude, you always need a leatherman.
-Iron Man watch—it’s hard to find a good quality watch here. I’d just bring an extra band…I forgot to do that.
TAMPONS!—They just don’t do tampons here in Peru. I brought a gallon Ziplock full of OB tampons and have still yet to run out (my family also uses them as packing peanuts when they send me stuff). They cost and arm and a leg here.
Things to ignore on that Packing List they gave you:
-I brought WAY more business casual than needed. Really guys, I kid you not, bring one skirt/dress that doesn’t wrinkle very easy, one pair of kakis, and one button up shirt and you are golden. I’ve only worn business casual 3 times, and no one in Peace Corps cares if they always see you in the same shirt. It just makes it easier to remember your name around the office.
-3 Month Supply of stuff—The idea is that we’re short of time to buy that stuff during training…Really if you have enough to get your through a week after Staging in DC you’ll be fine. There is a grocery store (like a real one) a 4 block walk from the training center in Chaclaclayo by the Serpost. You can get anything and everything you need there. It’ll save you some weight on those bags as well.
So basically Peru 14, all I wanted to say was to take a deep breath in. Relax. And enjoy these last few days with friends and family. Enjoy all of your favorite things American because you won’t be seeing any (or much) of them here in Peru. Enjoy JIF Peanut Butter, good cheese, sliced deli meat, solid yogurt, bagels, real ketchup, pork barbeque, thick and good tasting hamburgers, and last but defiantly not least, your family’s cooking. Don’t forget to soak up as much time in your favorite places, the mountains and beaches are beautiful here, but they are still not like home. So enjoy your favorite things, take a lot of pictures to bring with you and share all of those memories with your new Peruvian families.
I’ll probably see ya’ll around the training center at some point. Travel safe, and take care of each other. We’re the only English-speaking family we’re going to have for 2 years.
-Jenny
Seeing as how you are all currently in the “holy heck I’m really leaving the country” mindset and trying to decided what in the world should really go into those 2 checked bags that we’re allotted I figured I’d try to help ya’ll out a little. Assuming that you’re all blog stalking like we were before we left the country.
Things I’d have died without:
-My Backpacking hammock—crucial for any excursion to a caserio that winds up lasting WAY longer than intended, also amazing for sticky, hot summer afternoons.
-Laptop—I would not have survived the rainy season (well at least the part that had electricity) without the ability to watch a movie in English.
-External Hard drive—Great for stealing music from your friends…even if you think you won’t listen to it you will. Just wait for the rainy season.
-Rain Jacket and Rain Pants and Gortex boots—yes you see a theme, rain sucks. I was happy I was able to stay dry.
-Hiking Pack—I feel very much like a donkey at times carrying all the stuff we need to give charlas…so the pack just makes that all easier. In addition a Camel Back will make the pack even better.
-Leather Work gloves—I do a lot of shoveling/pick axing/handling metal or animal crud, sometimes it’s just nice to not have to worry about blisters or cutting or burning your hands.
-SUNGLASSES—the sun is just that much stronger here. Even if you didn’t wear them in the States you’ll want them here.
-Chacos—I will have a permanent chaco tan line by the time I’ve completed my Peace Corps service because I wear them 75% of the time, the other 25% it’s either pouring rain and I’m in boots or I’m hiking really far.
-Leatherman—dude, you always need a leatherman.
-Iron Man watch—it’s hard to find a good quality watch here. I’d just bring an extra band…I forgot to do that.
TAMPONS!—They just don’t do tampons here in Peru. I brought a gallon Ziplock full of OB tampons and have still yet to run out (my family also uses them as packing peanuts when they send me stuff). They cost and arm and a leg here.
Things to ignore on that Packing List they gave you:
-I brought WAY more business casual than needed. Really guys, I kid you not, bring one skirt/dress that doesn’t wrinkle very easy, one pair of kakis, and one button up shirt and you are golden. I’ve only worn business casual 3 times, and no one in Peace Corps cares if they always see you in the same shirt. It just makes it easier to remember your name around the office.
-3 Month Supply of stuff—The idea is that we’re short of time to buy that stuff during training…Really if you have enough to get your through a week after Staging in DC you’ll be fine. There is a grocery store (like a real one) a 4 block walk from the training center in Chaclaclayo by the Serpost. You can get anything and everything you need there. It’ll save you some weight on those bags as well.
So basically Peru 14, all I wanted to say was to take a deep breath in. Relax. And enjoy these last few days with friends and family. Enjoy all of your favorite things American because you won’t be seeing any (or much) of them here in Peru. Enjoy JIF Peanut Butter, good cheese, sliced deli meat, solid yogurt, bagels, real ketchup, pork barbeque, thick and good tasting hamburgers, and last but defiantly not least, your family’s cooking. Don’t forget to soak up as much time in your favorite places, the mountains and beaches are beautiful here, but they are still not like home. So enjoy your favorite things, take a lot of pictures to bring with you and share all of those memories with your new Peruvian families.
I’ll probably see ya’ll around the training center at some point. Travel safe, and take care of each other. We’re the only English-speaking family we’re going to have for 2 years.
-Jenny
English Sucks
Talking with my host dad today over lunch I figured something out. Americans, well all English speaking people, we’re selfish. Ok well not all of us, but our language sure as heck is. Now hear me out before you think that I’ve gone and changed my citizenship to Peruvian (I may have thought about it after this past election…but I’ll stay American for now).
We were talking about my “capacatacion.” It’s a Spanish word that means a capacatation. See, Microsoft Word hates me for even trying to turn that into English. “Capacitar,” Spanish for “to capacitate.” Word doesn’t hate me for that…to capacitate someone, that verb exists, but the noun doesn’t. Now that’s selfish. We’ll take the credit in English for giving the information, to capacitate them, but it just doesn’t have the same significance that it does in Spanish.
I looked it up in my University of Chicago Spanish-English dictionary.
Capacitar: VT to train, to qualify.
That’s the definition…sorta, ok not really. Here in Peru when we talk about capacitating someone it has a deeper meaning than training. Training someone has a different signification. To train someone implies drilling a concept in their head. You can train in a sport, but that usually gives the connotation of a fat old guy yelling at some slim athlete to do the things that he can’t do any more. You can train a dog to sit on command, but that involves a lot of treat giving and yelling and frustration before you reach the goal. Training just doesn’t cut it. It doesn’t paint the right picture.
To capacitate is more than to train. Yes it’s giving someone information, it is informing, but it goes so much further than that in Spanish. Capacatacion. To define it in Spanish is so beautiful. My host dad once said “capacitación es nada mas de brindar a la gente alguna información o técnica para mejorar su concomimiento o su vida.” Yes I will translate that for you all. “Capacatation is nothing more than to volunteer some sort of information or technique to the people.” Brindar is another one of these words that is just so much cooler in Spanish that in English that I won’t get into today, but literally it means to toast (like to give a toast).
So here in Peru to capacitate someone holds such a different meaning than in the states. It’s not just giving them the information, it’s a combination of that, giving information with the person WANTING to receive the knowledge and fully understand and take ownership of that information. See that, they took the instructor out of capacitating the people—now that’s selfless. The actual act of capacitating has next to nothing to do with the person who has the knowledge, and almost everything to do with the person wanting to receive the knowledge. Take that. We can’t even do that in English. It’s all verb, no noun exists. And certainly nothing exists that would take the do-er out of the situation like it does in Spanish.
It’s a common mistake made by most Peace Corps Volunteers when they return to the United States, to say Capacitation. We just get so used to the idea, to the concept, that we forget that our native language doesn’t have that concept, doesn’t have that word. So when we go to interviews and when we are looking for jobs I’m sure that some of the employers or the interviewers think that we’re we’ve forgotten how to speak English. While to an extent we have forgotten to speak English it’s more of English failing to reflect a concept so inherent in the Spanish language and us trying to relay that concept to people who may not speak Spanish and who don’t understand what we want to say.
**Note to Mr. Lang, my 12th grade AP English teacher who can attest to me being the worst student he’s ever had (ok that could be an exaggeration…but probably not) and to my Mother the walking grammar dictionary of my childhood:
I know, I’m probably the last person on Earth who should have tried to explain this concept. And there is a good chance that no one outside of the Peace Corps in a Spanish speaking country will ever understand what we’re trying to say when we say Capacitation. But it was worth a try. Sorry if you all have a headache.
We were talking about my “capacatacion.” It’s a Spanish word that means a capacatation. See, Microsoft Word hates me for even trying to turn that into English. “Capacitar,” Spanish for “to capacitate.” Word doesn’t hate me for that…to capacitate someone, that verb exists, but the noun doesn’t. Now that’s selfish. We’ll take the credit in English for giving the information, to capacitate them, but it just doesn’t have the same significance that it does in Spanish.
I looked it up in my University of Chicago Spanish-English dictionary.
Capacitar: VT to train, to qualify.
That’s the definition…sorta, ok not really. Here in Peru when we talk about capacitating someone it has a deeper meaning than training. Training someone has a different signification. To train someone implies drilling a concept in their head. You can train in a sport, but that usually gives the connotation of a fat old guy yelling at some slim athlete to do the things that he can’t do any more. You can train a dog to sit on command, but that involves a lot of treat giving and yelling and frustration before you reach the goal. Training just doesn’t cut it. It doesn’t paint the right picture.
To capacitate is more than to train. Yes it’s giving someone information, it is informing, but it goes so much further than that in Spanish. Capacatacion. To define it in Spanish is so beautiful. My host dad once said “capacitación es nada mas de brindar a la gente alguna información o técnica para mejorar su concomimiento o su vida.” Yes I will translate that for you all. “Capacatation is nothing more than to volunteer some sort of information or technique to the people.” Brindar is another one of these words that is just so much cooler in Spanish that in English that I won’t get into today, but literally it means to toast (like to give a toast).
So here in Peru to capacitate someone holds such a different meaning than in the states. It’s not just giving them the information, it’s a combination of that, giving information with the person WANTING to receive the knowledge and fully understand and take ownership of that information. See that, they took the instructor out of capacitating the people—now that’s selfless. The actual act of capacitating has next to nothing to do with the person who has the knowledge, and almost everything to do with the person wanting to receive the knowledge. Take that. We can’t even do that in English. It’s all verb, no noun exists. And certainly nothing exists that would take the do-er out of the situation like it does in Spanish.
It’s a common mistake made by most Peace Corps Volunteers when they return to the United States, to say Capacitation. We just get so used to the idea, to the concept, that we forget that our native language doesn’t have that concept, doesn’t have that word. So when we go to interviews and when we are looking for jobs I’m sure that some of the employers or the interviewers think that we’re we’ve forgotten how to speak English. While to an extent we have forgotten to speak English it’s more of English failing to reflect a concept so inherent in the Spanish language and us trying to relay that concept to people who may not speak Spanish and who don’t understand what we want to say.
**Note to Mr. Lang, my 12th grade AP English teacher who can attest to me being the worst student he’s ever had (ok that could be an exaggeration…but probably not) and to my Mother the walking grammar dictionary of my childhood:
I know, I’m probably the last person on Earth who should have tried to explain this concept. And there is a good chance that no one outside of the Peace Corps in a Spanish speaking country will ever understand what we’re trying to say when we say Capacitation. But it was worth a try. Sorry if you all have a headache.
Brush, Brush, Brush Your Teeth
Finally! The Tooth Brushing Campaign has begun! Thanks to the lovely help from Durham, North Carolina’s Riverside High School and their donation of 205 toothbrushes (as mentioned in my earlier blog) I have been able to start the Campaign. We started off strong, literally, by walking a few hours straight up the mountain to visit Palto, one of the further out caserios of Nanchoc and were greeted by 25 students excited to see what I had in my hiking pack for them…well that was after I promised about 500 times that I wasn’t there to give them shots. You see, they live so far away, that the majority of the little kids only see the Health Post workers when it’s time to get a shot. And since a lab technician came with me, their first reaction was to run further up the hill and hide.
So once I was able to convince them that I in fact was there to give them a lesson and to play a game, not stick them in the arm with a needle, the real fun (I mean work…just in case my boss is reading this) began. I had made a “television” out of cardboard and filled it with poster board. Each poster board has a picture on it, and we “show the movie” while their professor read the story of “Monchito el Golosinero” which translates along the lines of “Little Moncho, the Sweet Tooth.” I love the reaction I get from the kids doing this presentation. Their eyes are fixed on the TV screen, mouths gapping open, exclusively watching the movie. It’s amazing. I get such a great high off of that, knowing that the kids actually enjoy something that took me quite literally forever and a half to finish.
After the video I asked a few questions. I figured the movie went over so great, let’s see what they learned. I started off simple, “Why did Monchito get cavities in the story?” I was met with nothing more than 25 blank stares. So I tried again. “In the story, Monchito got cavities after eating too much of what?” Nothing. At this point I was trying extremely hard to not turn bright red and regress back to my entire schooling career and my fear of giving presentations in front of groups of people. Stuttering, oh yes people, I stuttered this part, I asked “Raise your hand if you understand me.” One kid raised his hand. A boy named Lucho who had been in the health post every day this summer to receive treatment for a bug bite that eats the flesh around where it bites—so needless to say he had heard me talk when I couldn’t talk at all, this was an improvement. The entire class turns and gives Lucho the “what the heck did she just say” face and he explains to the class “Jenny wants to know if we understand her.” I received 25 headshakes of “no.”
Damn. Remember that high I was talking about with the presentation…gone. So I took a deep breath and remember something Terry Dash once told me. Terry is an instructor at NCSU for the Outdoor Leadership programs and was my teacher for Backcountry Skills. In that class we had to give presentations on outdoor skills techniques and he told me that I talk unbelievably fast when I give presentations. He didn’t say the why part, but the why part is that I get so nervous giving presentations that I shake and want to get the whole thing over with as fast as possible…so I talk fast. Remembering that I though…hmm speed-talking gringo-Spanish just might be the problem.
I took another deep breath and repeated, at a turtle’s pace, “Raise your hand now if you can understand me.” Thank God. There were at least 22 hands that went up. Ok, I have them back. Then I proceeded to ask the rest of my questions just to make sure they got the story. Success! They all answered (in unison) all the questions correctly and then all participated in a game. It was great.
To use a bad saying for this situation, I then put the sprinkles on top by bringing out the tooth brushes. “Ok guys. Remember how I said that I’m from the United States? Well I have a class over there that wanted to give you guys a present…They sent me toothbrushes from the United States, one for each of you.” You’d have thought I was Santa Clause. They formed a nice and neat line and one by one took a toothbrush from the bag and I noted one huge difference from what I’m used to State-side. There was no looking for their favorite color, rummaging around in the bag trying to find the “best” or the “coolest” looking toothbrush, one by one they all grabbed a toothbrush and stared at it as if it could possibly come to life at any moment. Some boys had pink ones or purple ones, one guy had glitter on his, and unlike in any classroom in the United States they weren’t trying to switch with the girl beside them who had a red or green one. They just stared at their very own tooth brush.
“Look mine’s got a gel handle! IT’S SQUISHY!”
“OOO mines got bumps on the back!”
“Mine’s got the gel too!
“Look! You can see through mine and it makes things bigger!”
They spent about 2 minutes just getting to know the ins and outs of their toothbrushes. Ones from the states are far more advanced than the cheap Peruvian toothbrushes. Forget a tongue cleaner, or gel handles, or funny bristles to get the crud out from your teeth, Peruvian cheap drug store toothbrushes don’t even have that little rubber get-the-crud-out-from-your-teeth nub. This was just mind blowing.
“So who’s ready to practice brushing their teeth??” I asked. A roar of “I AM!!!” told me it was time to pass out the toothpaste. I put a little bit on each brush, I did it to show how little they’d need, and then we began brushing teeth. I figured it’d be best for me to do it with them and explain as we go. Seemed like a great idea. We started out with the brushing up and down on the front teeth, the sides, and then we moved to the sides. Right about the sides I realized the flaw in my plan. It’s hard as heck to talk with a mouth full of toothpaste foam. Choking back the toothpaste I talked them through the other side, the insides, then the tongue and we all ran to the side of the hill to spit off into the grass and wash our toothbrushes with a water bottle I filled with water and put a hole in the top to make a squirter. It went great! The kids loved it! Their parents might be extremely confused as to where the neon blue toothpaste streaks are on their jackets…it seems that a few of the kids had issues with a mouth full of toothpaste as well. But all and all a great trip!
I handed out stickers, we decorated empty Pepsi bottles with their names and drawings to put their toothbrushes in (to keep the dust and dirt off of them) and then signed a contract to brush their teeth every day after snack time and to always leave the toothbrush at the school. Then I said my goodbyes, and started back down the hill to my house with a minty fresh clean feeling.
(PS. pictures will be coming soon. I just forgot my camera this trip. Sorry)
So once I was able to convince them that I in fact was there to give them a lesson and to play a game, not stick them in the arm with a needle, the real fun (I mean work…just in case my boss is reading this) began. I had made a “television” out of cardboard and filled it with poster board. Each poster board has a picture on it, and we “show the movie” while their professor read the story of “Monchito el Golosinero” which translates along the lines of “Little Moncho, the Sweet Tooth.” I love the reaction I get from the kids doing this presentation. Their eyes are fixed on the TV screen, mouths gapping open, exclusively watching the movie. It’s amazing. I get such a great high off of that, knowing that the kids actually enjoy something that took me quite literally forever and a half to finish.
After the video I asked a few questions. I figured the movie went over so great, let’s see what they learned. I started off simple, “Why did Monchito get cavities in the story?” I was met with nothing more than 25 blank stares. So I tried again. “In the story, Monchito got cavities after eating too much of what?” Nothing. At this point I was trying extremely hard to not turn bright red and regress back to my entire schooling career and my fear of giving presentations in front of groups of people. Stuttering, oh yes people, I stuttered this part, I asked “Raise your hand if you understand me.” One kid raised his hand. A boy named Lucho who had been in the health post every day this summer to receive treatment for a bug bite that eats the flesh around where it bites—so needless to say he had heard me talk when I couldn’t talk at all, this was an improvement. The entire class turns and gives Lucho the “what the heck did she just say” face and he explains to the class “Jenny wants to know if we understand her.” I received 25 headshakes of “no.”
Damn. Remember that high I was talking about with the presentation…gone. So I took a deep breath and remember something Terry Dash once told me. Terry is an instructor at NCSU for the Outdoor Leadership programs and was my teacher for Backcountry Skills. In that class we had to give presentations on outdoor skills techniques and he told me that I talk unbelievably fast when I give presentations. He didn’t say the why part, but the why part is that I get so nervous giving presentations that I shake and want to get the whole thing over with as fast as possible…so I talk fast. Remembering that I though…hmm speed-talking gringo-Spanish just might be the problem.
I took another deep breath and repeated, at a turtle’s pace, “Raise your hand now if you can understand me.” Thank God. There were at least 22 hands that went up. Ok, I have them back. Then I proceeded to ask the rest of my questions just to make sure they got the story. Success! They all answered (in unison) all the questions correctly and then all participated in a game. It was great.
To use a bad saying for this situation, I then put the sprinkles on top by bringing out the tooth brushes. “Ok guys. Remember how I said that I’m from the United States? Well I have a class over there that wanted to give you guys a present…They sent me toothbrushes from the United States, one for each of you.” You’d have thought I was Santa Clause. They formed a nice and neat line and one by one took a toothbrush from the bag and I noted one huge difference from what I’m used to State-side. There was no looking for their favorite color, rummaging around in the bag trying to find the “best” or the “coolest” looking toothbrush, one by one they all grabbed a toothbrush and stared at it as if it could possibly come to life at any moment. Some boys had pink ones or purple ones, one guy had glitter on his, and unlike in any classroom in the United States they weren’t trying to switch with the girl beside them who had a red or green one. They just stared at their very own tooth brush.
“Look mine’s got a gel handle! IT’S SQUISHY!”
“OOO mines got bumps on the back!”
“Mine’s got the gel too!
“Look! You can see through mine and it makes things bigger!”
They spent about 2 minutes just getting to know the ins and outs of their toothbrushes. Ones from the states are far more advanced than the cheap Peruvian toothbrushes. Forget a tongue cleaner, or gel handles, or funny bristles to get the crud out from your teeth, Peruvian cheap drug store toothbrushes don’t even have that little rubber get-the-crud-out-from-your-teeth nub. This was just mind blowing.
“So who’s ready to practice brushing their teeth??” I asked. A roar of “I AM!!!” told me it was time to pass out the toothpaste. I put a little bit on each brush, I did it to show how little they’d need, and then we began brushing teeth. I figured it’d be best for me to do it with them and explain as we go. Seemed like a great idea. We started out with the brushing up and down on the front teeth, the sides, and then we moved to the sides. Right about the sides I realized the flaw in my plan. It’s hard as heck to talk with a mouth full of toothpaste foam. Choking back the toothpaste I talked them through the other side, the insides, then the tongue and we all ran to the side of the hill to spit off into the grass and wash our toothbrushes with a water bottle I filled with water and put a hole in the top to make a squirter. It went great! The kids loved it! Their parents might be extremely confused as to where the neon blue toothpaste streaks are on their jackets…it seems that a few of the kids had issues with a mouth full of toothpaste as well. But all and all a great trip!
I handed out stickers, we decorated empty Pepsi bottles with their names and drawings to put their toothbrushes in (to keep the dust and dirt off of them) and then signed a contract to brush their teeth every day after snack time and to always leave the toothbrush at the school. Then I said my goodbyes, and started back down the hill to my house with a minty fresh clean feeling.
(PS. pictures will be coming soon. I just forgot my camera this trip. Sorry)
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Light the Fire
We recently had IST (In Service Training) in Pozo de las Ramos, Piura. All of the remaining Health Volunteer and a community partner arrived ready to learn all we could about latrine construction, improved wood burning stove construction, gardens, raising animals, and Early Childhood Development. Needless to say it was a JAMMED packed 4 days of lessons, and my favorite, hands on learning.
I brought with me to the meeting my most active Health Promoter, Andres Huertas Canerio. He was extremely excited to learn all the ins and outs of construction of stoves and latrines, and coming from a background in construction, I just felt he was the perfect match for the meeting--I was totally right! Andres is the guy you call in my town when your water pipe bursts, or you need to build an adobe house, or your bean crop is dying from a plague and you need help. He’s the Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor of Nanchoc if you will. He asked so many questions during the meetings that some of the other people got mad thinking we’d never leave—it may have frustrated some people, but I was as proud as I could be. I think I might have actually found one member of the community who’s ready to light a fire under the rear ends of the people of Nanchoc and get to working!
Now I’m hoping I’m not speaking too soon saying that. I really do hope that Andres and I, together with the Health Post and other Promoters, can finally get some projects going. Now that Andres has actually seen how freaking easy (and relatively cheap) it is to build an improved wood burning stove, he’s ready to build. He even wants one of the first ones we’re going to make. Our new game plan is to build 7 (you buy one big piece of metal that makes 7 stoves) stoves as part of a pilot program, putting them in influential houses in the community—Andres’s house, my house, Carmen (a lady at the health post who EVERYOE knows), Teo (the lady who owns the phone), the soup kitchen in Andres’s neighborhood, and one at the health post, the other slots are still up for grabs. But I’m excited that we seem to have a plan. In this up coming week we will be getting in contact with sellers of the metal we need to find a cheap price and hopefully start building by mid-September if all goes smoothly.
Not only did we get the stove project underway, but I found my new favorite way to grow veggies. The guy who was teaching about gardens happens to live in a city, so he has next to no space to grow veggies in. Seeing as how it’s like his job to teach people how to grow things, he figured it’d be rather hypocritical of him to not grow them himself and started growing plants on a shelf…sorta. The idea is to build a 2 story growing platform. Envision a bunk bed, but instead of a mattress there is a bin to grow stuff in.
Now I took this idea one step further. I’ve been trying for MONTHS to get my host family on board for a garden, and I wanted a bunny. They told me that there was no space for a garden at the house, it’s true, our patio is chock full of trees, so there’s not a ton of room…but there is some, but that I could build a little hutch for a bunny if I wanted. As long as it was just one bunny. So, I took the guy’s idea for the bunk bed system of growing and changed it a little… I’m going to have a bunny house on the bottom bunk, and veggies growing on the top bunk! I know, super great idea Jenny! I know, I’m proud of myself for thinking it up too.
Tomorrow (18th of Aug to be exact) I’m going to dig the holes to put the posts in, and walk about an hour with the donkey and start begging for people to give me 1 or 2 stalks of bamboo to get building. Usually people don’t give away bamboo…it’s like the duct tape of my site, now I know that you can’t tape things together with bamboo, but you can build damn near anything out of it. But I’m hoping my status as a gringa will help me get some for free…and if not as the gringa, as the broke gringa who knows how to build a latrine and is willing to share that knowledge. So here’s hoping that in the next blog I’m talking about my complete bunny hutch/garden combo and putting my focus on planting and buying me a bunny rabbit. No clue what I’ll name him, but if he’s gray I might have to be uncreative and name him Bugs Bunny…and maybe find me a black duck to name Daffy. I mean the neighbor’s cat’s already named Sylvester.
I brought with me to the meeting my most active Health Promoter, Andres Huertas Canerio. He was extremely excited to learn all the ins and outs of construction of stoves and latrines, and coming from a background in construction, I just felt he was the perfect match for the meeting--I was totally right! Andres is the guy you call in my town when your water pipe bursts, or you need to build an adobe house, or your bean crop is dying from a plague and you need help. He’s the Tim “the Tool Man” Taylor of Nanchoc if you will. He asked so many questions during the meetings that some of the other people got mad thinking we’d never leave—it may have frustrated some people, but I was as proud as I could be. I think I might have actually found one member of the community who’s ready to light a fire under the rear ends of the people of Nanchoc and get to working!
Now I’m hoping I’m not speaking too soon saying that. I really do hope that Andres and I, together with the Health Post and other Promoters, can finally get some projects going. Now that Andres has actually seen how freaking easy (and relatively cheap) it is to build an improved wood burning stove, he’s ready to build. He even wants one of the first ones we’re going to make. Our new game plan is to build 7 (you buy one big piece of metal that makes 7 stoves) stoves as part of a pilot program, putting them in influential houses in the community—Andres’s house, my house, Carmen (a lady at the health post who EVERYOE knows), Teo (the lady who owns the phone), the soup kitchen in Andres’s neighborhood, and one at the health post, the other slots are still up for grabs. But I’m excited that we seem to have a plan. In this up coming week we will be getting in contact with sellers of the metal we need to find a cheap price and hopefully start building by mid-September if all goes smoothly.
Not only did we get the stove project underway, but I found my new favorite way to grow veggies. The guy who was teaching about gardens happens to live in a city, so he has next to no space to grow veggies in. Seeing as how it’s like his job to teach people how to grow things, he figured it’d be rather hypocritical of him to not grow them himself and started growing plants on a shelf…sorta. The idea is to build a 2 story growing platform. Envision a bunk bed, but instead of a mattress there is a bin to grow stuff in.
Now I took this idea one step further. I’ve been trying for MONTHS to get my host family on board for a garden, and I wanted a bunny. They told me that there was no space for a garden at the house, it’s true, our patio is chock full of trees, so there’s not a ton of room…but there is some, but that I could build a little hutch for a bunny if I wanted. As long as it was just one bunny. So, I took the guy’s idea for the bunk bed system of growing and changed it a little… I’m going to have a bunny house on the bottom bunk, and veggies growing on the top bunk! I know, super great idea Jenny! I know, I’m proud of myself for thinking it up too.
Tomorrow (18th of Aug to be exact) I’m going to dig the holes to put the posts in, and walk about an hour with the donkey and start begging for people to give me 1 or 2 stalks of bamboo to get building. Usually people don’t give away bamboo…it’s like the duct tape of my site, now I know that you can’t tape things together with bamboo, but you can build damn near anything out of it. But I’m hoping my status as a gringa will help me get some for free…and if not as the gringa, as the broke gringa who knows how to build a latrine and is willing to share that knowledge. So here’s hoping that in the next blog I’m talking about my complete bunny hutch/garden combo and putting my focus on planting and buying me a bunny rabbit. No clue what I’ll name him, but if he’s gray I might have to be uncreative and name him Bugs Bunny…and maybe find me a black duck to name Daffy. I mean the neighbor’s cat’s already named Sylvester.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Cowboy Meets Peru
This week I was fortunate enough to have one of my best friends come and visit me in Peru! His name’s Josh, we mostly just call him the cowboy because that’s his job description. It was rather funny to watch a boy who us used to the country life of the United States adjust to Peru—both the city part and the country part.
I went to Lima to go and pick him up from the airport, and spent most of the day hanging with the host family waiting on his flight to come in at 11pm. Everyone had a lot of questions about the mystery gringo that was coming to visit. “How blue are his eyes?” “Like how tall is tall?” “Wait, he gets paid to hunt?” “What do you mean he doesn’t speak Spanish??” were just a few of the questions I got to answer. My host brother-in-law and I went to the airport around 11 to wait for him to come out of customs. Now I’m not sure if it was the fact that I hadn’t actually seen Josh in over a year, or just the shock from a few plane-full of gringos walking out of the international terminal doors in the airport…but it was A LOT harder than I thought it would be to find him. I was thinking before I got to the airport that it could only be so hard to pick a 6’2” reddish-blonde haired and bearded guy that’s probably wearing plaid out of a crowd. Apparently I had overestimated my ability to scan a crowd. If he hadn’t been wearing a CAT (Caterpillar) hat I might not have found him until after he had walked around the lobby for an hour.
Once safely out of the airport and all the craziness that is included in that we made it to the Peace Corps crash pad in Lima around 1. The tour of Lima started the next day. Now ya’ll know I’m really not a great tour guide, so I did my best…but we went to go see Larco Mar first, the fancy shopping mall positioned at the top of a cliff overlooking the beach. It was our first visit mainly so we could switch out his US money to Peruvian Soles. I hadn’t seen American money in so long it was kinda a nice memory to see them. I forgot that it was all (mostly) green. And I’m pretty sure they’ve changed the $5 since I left. When I get back to the States I’m sure I’ll be having some real issues. None of the money will look the way I remember. But after Larco Mar I took him to my favorite (funniest) park in Lima: Parque de Amor, the Park of Love. Now before ya’ll get confused, let me explain why it’s my favorite park in Lima. The whole part is built around a HUGE statue of 2 people making out…it’s just one of those things that you stare at much like a car wreck. You’re not sure why you’re staring, but you just can’t seem to pull your eyes off of it.
After the shock of the park, we went to a fair in Baranco that had art and textiles from around Peru on display and for sell along with Peruvian food for sell. Josh tried his first Pisco Sour—the national drink. It’s Pisco (a clear grape liquor) mixed with lime juice and egg whites. I’m not a big fan, but Josh seemed to enjoy his. He wasn’t however able to finish it, they made it REALLY strong and we hadn’t eaten lunch yet…so probably for the best he didn’t finish it or I would have been dragging him around Lima. Once we had had our fill of The Peruvian Culture Fair we went in search of food and ate a light lunch since my host family had invited us to Pollo a la Brasa ( Rotisserie chicken) for dinner. That night after supper we got on the bus and Josh had his first taste of a 12 hour bus ride from Lima to Chiclayo.
Now I can safely say he wasn’t a fan of the bus ride…but then again, I don’t know many people who are a fan. It’s rather hard to get a good night sleep on a bus, even if the seat leans way back and has a foot rest, just because us gringos tend to be larger than the seats. But we made it to Chiclayo and proceeded to pass out sleeping for all of the morning in the Peace Corps hotel in Chiclayo (where I always stay). I gave Josh the tour of town after our power naps. There were a lot more people around than normal because we were there 2 days before the Peruvian Independence day and all the partying had already begun. We went to all the usual stops, the grocery store, the mall like place (hey he may have been here for Peruvian culture, but I needed my American culture fix), and just walked around and saw the sights. We also went to Lambayeque to see the Museum. It was a really good exhibit. It had artifacts found in and around the region of Lambayeque on display, and…MUMMIES! My favorites were these little gold figures about 2” tall.
After the culture lesson we hit up the King Kong fair across the street. I think I’ve explained King Kong to everyone before, but just in case, here we go again: King Kong is the regional dessert of Lambayeque. Its layers of a butter cookie with fillings, the fillings range from chocolate, to caramel, to jellied fruit. It winds up looking a lot like a brick of cookied goodness. While it is very good, it’s also very dry and I would not recommend eating it without a glass of milk or a cup of tea or coffee nearby. We then went back to the hotel to enjoy the last of American TV while we had it (the hotel gets movies and shows that sometimes are in English) because we were heading to Nanchoc the next day.
And what a surprise we had waiting for us at the bus terminal: THE NEW COMBI!!! Rojas, the family that runs the bus system at my site FINALLY bought another bus. So we got to ride back to Nanchoc in the big new shiny bus! How fun (at least for me, I don’t think Josh was that impressed). When we were on the bus Josh got mistaken for the volunteer that lives above us in Bolivar by Michael’s 11 month old host sister. She spent the entire bus ride staring at him or crying because her mom wouldn’t let her go sit with Josh. Once in Nanchoc my work officially began. And not my Peace Corps work, the government moving up vacations had killed any and all chances of working this week, but my work as a translator. I’ve decided becoming a professional translator is defiantly not one of the more entertaining jobs in the world. It’s rather frustrating and complicated and leads to one end: The loss of ability to talk intelligently in either language.
But once in Nanchoc, I think Josh realized just how…not jam-packed…his vacation would be. Since the school vacations got moved up there was no option of doing the fun cool things I had planned (giving a lesson on teeth brushing, and playing soccer with the kids, or working in the garden) so I just had to improvise—which is a hard thing to do in the middle of nowhere Peru. We managed to find a few things to do. We went fishing with a cousin and his family and my best friend in site (the nurse) down at the river in Tinges. Josh managed to catch his first Cash-Ca (that ugly fish I was talking about in an earlier blog), which is a good thing, because I don’t think he would have stopped fishing until he caught one. Let’s just say he’s got a bit of a competitive streak in him, and the other guys catching 11 and his none just wouldn’t have done. I think the visit would have been even more fun for him if he could speak better Spanish. Tito, the cousin, is an avid hunter and had a ton of stories to tell and questions to ask Josh—the only problem, I can honestly say that my Spanish vocabulary on hunting terms is not up to par. They were impressed that Josh new a few words that I didn’t, to his credit he did work in a hunting camp in Texas and Mexico, so he had practice—I had no idea what they were talking about. I just filled in the gaps in their conversations when it went to hunting. I can talk all day about most things in my site…hunting is not one of them. But Tito has invited Josh back to Nanchoc to go and hunt deer and mountain lions…doubtful that Josh will actually come back, but the gesture was really nice.
In addition to catching fish, we went to go and see some ruins at my site. There is a spot that has rocks with engravings of animals and people and symbols along with these huge holes in the middle of nowhere (more so than my town). We went one day to try and find them ourselves. And I have found (once again) that Peruvian’s aren’t really that good at giving directions. I found where I thought the rocks probably were, but we just couldn’t find a way to get up there to them…2 days later we went back with our guides (local kids) and I’ll be damned if we didn’t get taken right back to the same spot I tried to get us to before. The only difference, they knew how to get to the top…dern. But we had fun walking around the rocks and looking for all the engravings. We’re not sure what most of them are, they are really worn down from all the rain that we get in my site. But I plan on going back with paper and crayons and taking rubbings of them—maybe that will help.
And that about sums up the gringo’s visit to Peru. I’m about 99% sure Josh was expecting to do more on the trip…I mean Peru has so many cool things to do…but it was just a bad time politically to do much of anything. The president had moved up vacations and cancelled most big Independence Day celebrations. To that cramped most of my plans. Hopefully he doesn’t regret his trip to Peru. I mean, he can now at least say he’s eaten (and not really liked) a Guinea Pig, the strangest (and worst by American standards) cuts of pork, and yucca. And if nothing else maybe I’ve finally convinced him to learn a little bit of Spanish for his next hunting gig down by the boarder. Who knows, I was happy to have the American visitor and to get to speak a lot of English for a little while. Not to mention catching up with a friend. Maybe I’ll get another non-family visitor from the states during my time here, who knows.
I went to Lima to go and pick him up from the airport, and spent most of the day hanging with the host family waiting on his flight to come in at 11pm. Everyone had a lot of questions about the mystery gringo that was coming to visit. “How blue are his eyes?” “Like how tall is tall?” “Wait, he gets paid to hunt?” “What do you mean he doesn’t speak Spanish??” were just a few of the questions I got to answer. My host brother-in-law and I went to the airport around 11 to wait for him to come out of customs. Now I’m not sure if it was the fact that I hadn’t actually seen Josh in over a year, or just the shock from a few plane-full of gringos walking out of the international terminal doors in the airport…but it was A LOT harder than I thought it would be to find him. I was thinking before I got to the airport that it could only be so hard to pick a 6’2” reddish-blonde haired and bearded guy that’s probably wearing plaid out of a crowd. Apparently I had overestimated my ability to scan a crowd. If he hadn’t been wearing a CAT (Caterpillar) hat I might not have found him until after he had walked around the lobby for an hour.
Once safely out of the airport and all the craziness that is included in that we made it to the Peace Corps crash pad in Lima around 1. The tour of Lima started the next day. Now ya’ll know I’m really not a great tour guide, so I did my best…but we went to go see Larco Mar first, the fancy shopping mall positioned at the top of a cliff overlooking the beach. It was our first visit mainly so we could switch out his US money to Peruvian Soles. I hadn’t seen American money in so long it was kinda a nice memory to see them. I forgot that it was all (mostly) green. And I’m pretty sure they’ve changed the $5 since I left. When I get back to the States I’m sure I’ll be having some real issues. None of the money will look the way I remember. But after Larco Mar I took him to my favorite (funniest) park in Lima: Parque de Amor, the Park of Love. Now before ya’ll get confused, let me explain why it’s my favorite park in Lima. The whole part is built around a HUGE statue of 2 people making out…it’s just one of those things that you stare at much like a car wreck. You’re not sure why you’re staring, but you just can’t seem to pull your eyes off of it.
After the shock of the park, we went to a fair in Baranco that had art and textiles from around Peru on display and for sell along with Peruvian food for sell. Josh tried his first Pisco Sour—the national drink. It’s Pisco (a clear grape liquor) mixed with lime juice and egg whites. I’m not a big fan, but Josh seemed to enjoy his. He wasn’t however able to finish it, they made it REALLY strong and we hadn’t eaten lunch yet…so probably for the best he didn’t finish it or I would have been dragging him around Lima. Once we had had our fill of The Peruvian Culture Fair we went in search of food and ate a light lunch since my host family had invited us to Pollo a la Brasa ( Rotisserie chicken) for dinner. That night after supper we got on the bus and Josh had his first taste of a 12 hour bus ride from Lima to Chiclayo.
Now I can safely say he wasn’t a fan of the bus ride…but then again, I don’t know many people who are a fan. It’s rather hard to get a good night sleep on a bus, even if the seat leans way back and has a foot rest, just because us gringos tend to be larger than the seats. But we made it to Chiclayo and proceeded to pass out sleeping for all of the morning in the Peace Corps hotel in Chiclayo (where I always stay). I gave Josh the tour of town after our power naps. There were a lot more people around than normal because we were there 2 days before the Peruvian Independence day and all the partying had already begun. We went to all the usual stops, the grocery store, the mall like place (hey he may have been here for Peruvian culture, but I needed my American culture fix), and just walked around and saw the sights. We also went to Lambayeque to see the Museum. It was a really good exhibit. It had artifacts found in and around the region of Lambayeque on display, and…MUMMIES! My favorites were these little gold figures about 2” tall.
After the culture lesson we hit up the King Kong fair across the street. I think I’ve explained King Kong to everyone before, but just in case, here we go again: King Kong is the regional dessert of Lambayeque. Its layers of a butter cookie with fillings, the fillings range from chocolate, to caramel, to jellied fruit. It winds up looking a lot like a brick of cookied goodness. While it is very good, it’s also very dry and I would not recommend eating it without a glass of milk or a cup of tea or coffee nearby. We then went back to the hotel to enjoy the last of American TV while we had it (the hotel gets movies and shows that sometimes are in English) because we were heading to Nanchoc the next day.
And what a surprise we had waiting for us at the bus terminal: THE NEW COMBI!!! Rojas, the family that runs the bus system at my site FINALLY bought another bus. So we got to ride back to Nanchoc in the big new shiny bus! How fun (at least for me, I don’t think Josh was that impressed). When we were on the bus Josh got mistaken for the volunteer that lives above us in Bolivar by Michael’s 11 month old host sister. She spent the entire bus ride staring at him or crying because her mom wouldn’t let her go sit with Josh. Once in Nanchoc my work officially began. And not my Peace Corps work, the government moving up vacations had killed any and all chances of working this week, but my work as a translator. I’ve decided becoming a professional translator is defiantly not one of the more entertaining jobs in the world. It’s rather frustrating and complicated and leads to one end: The loss of ability to talk intelligently in either language.
But once in Nanchoc, I think Josh realized just how…not jam-packed…his vacation would be. Since the school vacations got moved up there was no option of doing the fun cool things I had planned (giving a lesson on teeth brushing, and playing soccer with the kids, or working in the garden) so I just had to improvise—which is a hard thing to do in the middle of nowhere Peru. We managed to find a few things to do. We went fishing with a cousin and his family and my best friend in site (the nurse) down at the river in Tinges. Josh managed to catch his first Cash-Ca (that ugly fish I was talking about in an earlier blog), which is a good thing, because I don’t think he would have stopped fishing until he caught one. Let’s just say he’s got a bit of a competitive streak in him, and the other guys catching 11 and his none just wouldn’t have done. I think the visit would have been even more fun for him if he could speak better Spanish. Tito, the cousin, is an avid hunter and had a ton of stories to tell and questions to ask Josh—the only problem, I can honestly say that my Spanish vocabulary on hunting terms is not up to par. They were impressed that Josh new a few words that I didn’t, to his credit he did work in a hunting camp in Texas and Mexico, so he had practice—I had no idea what they were talking about. I just filled in the gaps in their conversations when it went to hunting. I can talk all day about most things in my site…hunting is not one of them. But Tito has invited Josh back to Nanchoc to go and hunt deer and mountain lions…doubtful that Josh will actually come back, but the gesture was really nice.
In addition to catching fish, we went to go and see some ruins at my site. There is a spot that has rocks with engravings of animals and people and symbols along with these huge holes in the middle of nowhere (more so than my town). We went one day to try and find them ourselves. And I have found (once again) that Peruvian’s aren’t really that good at giving directions. I found where I thought the rocks probably were, but we just couldn’t find a way to get up there to them…2 days later we went back with our guides (local kids) and I’ll be damned if we didn’t get taken right back to the same spot I tried to get us to before. The only difference, they knew how to get to the top…dern. But we had fun walking around the rocks and looking for all the engravings. We’re not sure what most of them are, they are really worn down from all the rain that we get in my site. But I plan on going back with paper and crayons and taking rubbings of them—maybe that will help.
And that about sums up the gringo’s visit to Peru. I’m about 99% sure Josh was expecting to do more on the trip…I mean Peru has so many cool things to do…but it was just a bad time politically to do much of anything. The president had moved up vacations and cancelled most big Independence Day celebrations. To that cramped most of my plans. Hopefully he doesn’t regret his trip to Peru. I mean, he can now at least say he’s eaten (and not really liked) a Guinea Pig, the strangest (and worst by American standards) cuts of pork, and yucca. And if nothing else maybe I’ve finally convinced him to learn a little bit of Spanish for his next hunting gig down by the boarder. Who knows, I was happy to have the American visitor and to get to speak a lot of English for a little while. Not to mention catching up with a friend. Maybe I’ll get another non-family visitor from the states during my time here, who knows.
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