Learning to say no (June 16, 2010)

This is one of my biggest challenges – saying no – not only to those around me, but also, and most importantly to myself. I have such the bad habit of metiéndome en demasiadas cosas (getting myself involved in too many things). Hopefully the next two years will be the opportunity to acknowledge this and work on it. It’s so hard to control the onslaught of the plethora of ideas that pass through my mind. Especially when they can be so applicable to my surroundings and when there is so much dysfunction as to where I am working...

I haven’t written for some time honestly because I went through a mini-depression, kept myself over-occupied, and had a series of unfortunate events happen, including losing my computer and external hard drive. I never have the two together while visiting the ‘big city’ (the capital city of the department of La Libertad) since robberies are ubiquitous. I always leave my external hard drive back in the Sierra to have all my information and work backed up. But, because the cord to my external hard drive was busted, I had to get it replaced and therefore brought it with me to Trujillo, putting the ‘vice-president with the president’. The worst part is it’s my fault. I took a taxi through a shadier part of Trujillo at night to get to the house where the coordinator of a NGO lives with another volunteer and we had a load of things, personal belongings and materials for charlas (trainings), etc. I was guarding the bag with my computer under my legs because robberies can commonly take place through windows. Disembarking at night with no light in the taxi or street, we thought we grabbed everything, did the double-check, quickly paid the driver, and scurried away, trying not to let him on to where we were going for our safety. But… I left the most important thing that was in my possession – my computer and external hard drive. I thought I had grabbed everything, consciously did the double check, but the bag must have fallen further under the seat, which was hard to notice with the lack of light. After spending a couple of days scoping out the black market, posting radio ads and awards, I had to suck up a huge loss that I had never wanted to fathom.
Part of the work lost was my community diagnostic that I had been working incessantly on for some time.

Reading Into the Wild got me through it and I thought I could change my habit of over-committing myself, but I’m coming to that juncture once again where I need to reassess. It’s really so hard when you have so many interests and the community you work in severely lacks basic water and sanitation practices, health education and promotion, good nutrition (my best guess is ~70% malnutrition in children), youth development/education, artisanry, local business, awareness to the damage pesticides do to the soil and health, and, and…

However, after talking with another volunteer, and hearing the residual epiphany of others – you really have to pick 2-3 projects and stick with them, otherwise you seemingly accomplish nothing in your time. Coming the 24th of this month, I will have been 8 months at my Sierra site of Mache. Again, and again I think I constantly am busy working, but what have I accomplished? And especially, when I lost all this ‘information’ I was so steadily clinging onto –

Humor me (Mayo 28, 2010)

Fulfilling my nighttime routine – going to go fill up a bucket of water (it’s not turbid anymore because it’s no longer the rainy season! Yeah!), bringing it up to my room, heating it up with my little gas stove to fill my water bladder (a rubber bag I received from a Catholic nun that has saved my life), emptying my pee cup (or cut off pop bottle) to again attend to my necessity, putting on my thermal pants, wool turtle neck and socks, and Brian’s Tall and Large (since he’s 6’4”) Columbia Sportswear jacket, inside-out, since the fleece side is on the outside (how much sense does that make?) – not sure when I’ll ever give that back to him – it keeps me so warm! Then, brushing my teeth and washing my face with my tippy-tap (a 2 L bottle hung from the ceiling, upside-down, with the bottom cut-off that I fill with water) and next sometimes fitting in a little bit of yoga if I feel motivated/warm-enough and then climbing under my 8 blankets, including a down-comforter, to cradle my ‘water baby’ (the hot-water bladder). I wonder if I’ll ever miss this routine…

What stimulated the title – so I had been invited over for lunch on a Monday by the ‘Presidente del agua potable’/Drinkable water president (sounds like a big title, but really isn’t) in the neighboring caserío of La Primavera a couple of weeks ago. The president is a quaint man named Jaime, in his late 50’s who I‘ve become buddy-buddy with. I actually couldn’t make it that day, so I scheduled an early Monday morning run to let him know to see if we could postpone. As was to be expected by Sierra folk, he had completely forgotten anyway, so it wasn’t an issue at all to reschedule for the upcoming Thursday. Coming in on Thursday, I arrived, and he reacted as if I caught him with his pants down, because he had totally forgotten. Again to be expected. Slightly irritated, because it’s about a 45 minute walk to get to his house, and in the opposite direction from where I needed to go later on that day, I told him we could have a makeshift lunch (I had brought a sweet-potato, broccoli and carrot salad – something unheard of here). He insisted we ‘reschedule’, but I actually wouldn’t have been able to reschedule for quite some time (had to travel for a training seminar coming up). So we made do with rice, some beans and the salad I had brought. It turned out just fine, although I am looking forward to eating some cuy (guinea pig) hopefully sometime soon…

What if (03/16/2010)

What if I told you you could be doing anything right now, at this point in time, without inhibition. In many ways this is possible in the States – at our finger tips we have a wealth of resources and opportunities. But, for some reason so many are unhappy and get stuck into the rut of pursuing something they realistically don’t desire pursuing. Here, there isn’t a wealth of opportunity. You are most likely born into poverty, and depending on your situation at home, are malnourished and have to walk over an hour to get to school, one-way straight up a mountainside. Your options are taking care of animals (which would be lucky if your family has any) and/or working in the chacra/the fields, growing potatoes. Fortunately, if born in this generation in rural Perú, there are more schools (and depending where you live, access to these schools). There may be the possibility of making it through primary and secondary school, and if available, attend an institute to become a técnico in agropecuaria (a tech in agriculture) or receive training in accounting. I guess receiving a title in either of these two may lead to some opportunities for jobs, but realistically speaking, it most likely would lead to, well, working in the chacra. For accounting, there is the possibility of working in the municipality, but this could be a course, depending on who the mayor is and how fiscally responsible he is… and well, this is kind of looking glim…

Unfortunately, if looking for opportunity, you would have to leave here (rural Perú) to attend a college/university, and that’s if the educational training here was adequate, and for some pure strike of luck – your family has enough financial backing to send you to a more urban area where the real opportunity is, or has a family member already there to host you. And sadly, if you were to pursue a career, such as a health career, usually deemed as a more esteemed pathway in many places (and typically has a rotation in the rural areas when you start out) – be it técnico (perhaps the equivalent of a licensed practical nurse/LPN combined with a pharmacist), an obstetriz (similar to a nurse practitioner, and specializing in maternal care), a nurse, or doctor, you get paid a ridiculously small sum for a monumental amount of work. For example, if working for the public health care system, el Ministerio de Salud/MINSA, a técnico may only get paid about 500-600 soles/month, a nurse or obstetriz 900-1200 soles/month, and a doctor 2000-2400 soles/month. Now divide this by 3 to convert to US dollars. Doesn’t leave much opportunity to excel does it? And many work 7 days a week, from 8am to 8pm. Apart from this, they are on call for emergencies during the night. One example of a week in Mache for the doctor was being called out to emergencies every night in addition to his regular work hours – one night out to the town of Nuevo Paraiso (1.5 hours) for a patient with severe pregnancy pains, the next night for a twin birth, the next night for a guy who tried to commit suicide with pesticides, and the following, for a 1-year-old child with meningitis. Each emergency lasted a good part of the night and at times resulted in having to bring the patient to an urban area 3-6 hours away. But, remember, the next day, he has to be up and ready to work at 8am. The health post personnel do get off 5 days a month… if that counts for anything, to visit their families that typically live in more urban parts. And fortunately, after working for a significant number of years, acquire 15-30 days leave per year…

Health personnel could seek to work for the private sector of ESSALUD, but you have to have connections and money to enter the game. It supposedly is a very corrupt system… However, you could get paid twice as much…

The health post personnel kind of chuckle inside, or really try to fathom what it’s like in the outside world. There is a NGO that recently started coordinating with us, that brings in pre-medical students from the U.S. to get some sort of introspect to what the medical life is here, in a developing/part third-world country (I don’t really think Perú is – parts of it rather). So far, from my experience, a lot of these kids don’t speak Spanish, and they come in with their Western attitude of middle to higher class, to watch, somewhat impatiently, the spectacle of poverty with campo (field/country) folk coming into a building made of real construction materials to receive healthcare. They are dressed very well, with fancy cameras clipped to the outside of their bags, speak English and loudly, laugh and joke and point at the cute old woman bent in half because of severe osteoporosis and just overall malnourishment. I’m being very crude, but it’s a spectacle and the health post personnel have a hard time fathoming the purpose of this entourage. And how these kids could afford to hop on a plane, to come here, and just observe to gain this ‘experience’.

Walking to Vista Alegre (a caserío/ small town) today (up a mountainside – but really the vista/view is alegre/happy), I was accompanied by initially two little girls, later to also be joined by two boys. I have to say I was a bit ecstatic to cross paths with one of the little boys – one of them named Brian Cleyver. ‘Brian’ is pretty cute when said with a Spanish accent. I had met Brian in the past when taking my kids from the classes I offered during their ‘vacation’ on a hike up to the top of the cerro/hill/ridge. We ran into him when at the top, looking for the ‘Pozos de Madre’ – supposedly there are a couple of small holes that are profoundly deep on top of this mountain ridge. Brian, who introduced himself to my previously as Cleyver (having two names can be complicated – depending if there are inconsistencies in what people call you), was traipsing across the chacra, with clothes that had been sewn and resewn and resewn again, and shoes, too large, very well worn with toes fully exposed and with random strings for shoe laces. I could immediately detect his innate curiosity and sincere good spirit. He immediately assisted us in our search for the ‘pozos de madre’. He was impressively knowledgeable about the plant life and scat of different animals we came across. He also aided in the search for an herb for tea – panisara. He ended up making it to one of my classes in the following week, but couldn’t thereafter because of the work he had to complete in the chacra.

I had returned to his home on another occasion while conducting my diagnostic to see what the living conditions were – although I didn’t know he belonged to this particular family. Sadly when entering the ‘kitchen’, there was a cat warming itself, on top of the burning leña/wood stove, and two of their five to seven dogs, were drinking from the same baldes/buckets that the kids were also drinking from (as an aside, when doing my diagnostic, and asking about health problems, his dad responded that he has problems with his nerves, in his left arm and leg and pain in the lower part of his head; I observed some gnarly scars and asked him what he thought the cause was… he responded that he had been struck by lightning 2 years ago! Makes sense since he lives right on top of a cerro/mountain. And he definitely looks like something struck him…).

In my walk to Vista Alegre, I conversed with the four kids and found it really delightful, I was especially excited since I was starting to better understand young kids – a difficult Spanish to understand (of youth and those that live in the campo). Brian was asking me how I arrived here from my country (by what means of transportation), and speaking of an airplane to go from the States to Lima, a bus from Lima to Trujillo, and then a micro (smaller version of a bus) from Trujillo to Mache, and here I was walking from Mache to Vista Alegre – something very mystical to him. He wanted to know what other countries were ‘up there’ by the United States. I had brought an umbrella that had been sent from the States and he was absolutely intrigued by it, how it worked (differently from the umbrellas that you could buy in a bigger town near by), and I took a picture of him. He, of course, then, wanted to learn how to take pictures. When we got to where I was hosting a town meeting that day, I taught him, and he made a spectacle for the next hour, taking about 60 pictures, while we were waiting for those from Vista Alegre to arrive (I am working on punctuality – would be helpful if people had watches). I’m thinking of bringing a whistle with me and blowing it as I’m rising to Vista Alegre to let people know it’s meeting time. I’m hoping we can get financial support to install some sort of bell to advise the ‘town’ it’s time for a meeting.

After having a rather successful meeting with the health promoter, touching on ‘caca-a-boca’/poop-to-mouth diseases, personal hygiene, and hygiene of the house and public places, I listened to music while descending the mountain to return to Mache and came onto a sound-bite/ people talking as part of an intro to a song in my music player, about what people wished they would have focused on more before passing/dying.

Some people went around interviewing dying patients, and not one person said they regretted not making more money or working harder – they all seemed to say their regrets were not spending more time with the people they love and not traveling more and relating more to the world and to the planet.

How liberating would it to be doing what you want to be doing, to pursue what drives and speaks to you?

Following a herd of sheep and a hot shower (02/09/2010)

Working here provokes a love hate relationship – there are days that are fantastic, where you are floating on cloud 9 and your outlook is gleaming, bright, and positive, and days where you want to dive off the deep end and disappear into the nebulous and retreat into your comfort zone. It’s hard to weigh in as to whether people really appreciate you, things, and interactions – here. I feel like some days I’m making an impact, making valuable connections and that it’s well, worthwhile, for me to be here. And other days, I feel like why do I even bother? I feel like everyone around me could care less, that I am not wanted here and am just wasting time. It’s like showing up to the health post, the municipality, or hosting a meeting in a community and they barely acknowledge you’re there. You start a conversation, and their attention is easily diverted, they give you the head turn, and away they go. In the meeting, they show up, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, 50 minutes late, or not at all. And then they just sit there and stare, some bicker about the topic at hand, and then they go back and forth, not really deciding anything. Some kind of just sit there and laugh at the spectacle, or some just blankly stare, absent, with vacant on-looking eyes. However, then there can be a complete, or close to a complete, success, where there’s a meeting with health promoters that you have worked so hard to recruit from all your caseríos. We had 29 health promoters and mother leaders show up to training for this month’s theme – la gripe y infecciones respiratorias agudas (IRAs)/ the flu and respiratory infections. Así es.

As far as medical attention goes… it’s been a challenge to observe. Once coming into the health post, I witnessed a 7-year-old girl, with third-degree burns from cooking oil. Sitting naked on the exam table with a surrounding gawking audience of the health post personnel, she was bent over crying in agony, with loose flabs of skin hanging from her hip and several other boiled circles of skin on her stomach and legs. She was just sitting there crying with a lamp spotlight on her nudity and pain, and her audience scolding her callously for her crying. God just let her cry and give her some relief! I was on my way into the country side to visit some families in the neighboring caserío of Olaya, and I could do nothing for this girl.

Later that night, after coming back from Olaya, I ran into her and her mother shortly after they were departing from the health post. I was at least able to converse with her mother, perhaps consoling her to some extent, and comfort the little girl, giving her a bit of smile, and a most gentle embrace (avoiding the burns). After they headed off, I was en route to fulfill a guilty pleasure of a shower (thanks to the health post), where I could receive my therapy – to retreat from the world, be warm, and think – my means of putting myself back together.

Don’t let the bed bugs bite (02/06/2010)

So I had this conversation with Megan, where do you draw the line if you keep a blog – how much can you express without it becoming too personal, but then at the same time, express the experiences of a real person? Hmmm, that’s an interesting question… and also if you are ‘representing’ an entity, like the Peace Corps, how truthful can you be? I always like to be honest, straight-forward, forthright. Cut the crap and lay it out because then you can communicate most effectively, most efficiently, and I think, well for the most part, people appreciate your directness. If you have well-developed opinions and are honest about them, then shouldn’t they be appreciated?

It’s so hard living and working in a different culture when you can’t quite express the rapid fluidity of your thoughts, which is even difficult in your own native tongue. I can’t wait until the day I can tell off the alcalde, but in the most well-composed, professional way possible. Ha, that will be the day. At least while I’m doing my diagnostic with families, I have gained the ability to help them to relax by joking with them. Picking up on the campo language and playing with it, that makes a better day.

So when does this really turn into a diary or an account of events? Megan decided she didn’t want to keep a blog for fear of dispelling too much personal information. I’m thinking I’m just going to cut my losses.

A couple of honest accounts. My body is covered, I mean covered, with small bites coming from my bed. My fingers and toes are fat, my chest itches, waist, every place possible. So far I’m just dealing, but I need to drive out whatever bugs are infesting my bed. Oh, and I figured an abnormal GI tract was to come, with the adjustment period in a new place. But no, it’s continuing, and to the point I’ve pooped or ‘soiled’ my pants 3 times now. I never thought I would deal with this as an adult, thought that I could have complete control, but oh, as the horrible cliché says, never say never. Never should be eliminated from use in many contexts. I need to figure out what is plaguing my system, probably what plagues everyone’s system here. I can’t escape it. During training, they guaranteed everyone would suffer from diarrhea, and that a good majority would poop their pants at some point during their service. I’m putting the effort forward, practicing good hygienic practices – boiling the water, chlorinating the water, but I also need a water filter, since the water can get so turbid here when it rains. Clay water filters were only conveniently provided to water and sanitation volunteers, who have the water and sanitation training. Ironic. I mean I have some, but not to the extent they received. Poco a poco/little by little, I’m making small strides and learning the hard way. In a way, I guess you have to start with yourself – making your own self-improvements and having your lessons before moving outward. Understanding how other people live, truly, before being at all able, to perhaps, improve some aspects of their lives. Recently we came across a boy, 7-8 years old?, with half a fist full of worms in his liver, oh joy.

Como Gitana (02-03-2010)

After conversing with a friend who used to work on the carreterra/roadway (he no longer does, since he hasn’t received pay for over 2 months – asi es en el Perú/that’s how it is here in Peru), we decided that we are both gitanos, traveling from one place to the next. He was feeling a bit lonely, but that’s how the wandering life leads, sometimes you are surrounded by a plethora of people, and other times, very alone. But, you learn to enjoy, to love your alone time, and find it utmost productive, to regain your strength, and do the activities that you find fulfilling and most enlightening. I’ve learned to love my alone time, and can see a clear balance between knowing when alone time is needed and when socializing is necessary (too much alone time can also drive you crazy). Sometimes I definitely need to be in the company of others to gain perspective and not be so self-consumed in my own preoccupations and patterns of thinking.

If it makes you happy… (01/31/2010)

Some people just make you happy, just bring you pure bliss. And you can recognize this, when you meet them, there’s a natural connection, and it’s as if your kindred spirits just immediately become intertwined, like two dangling pieces of string. And you should just let it happen, not question it, and let it make you happy. I think American culture projects a lot of deprivation, a lot of self-denial, as if you didn’t deserve happiness, or you should always be looking for something more, something higher. I am learning the importance of appreciating every step of the way and that perhaps I don’t have to have such an ascetic attitude, even if I am in the Peace Corps.

I think one of the hardest aspects of life is focusing on the positive rather than the negative. It is so easy to dwell on the parts of life that aren’t playing out smoothly (which is usually out of your control anyway). So why not brood over what is going right? Why not be absolved with what is going beautifully? I have a terrible habit of focusing on what I perceive as my in competencies or my weaknesses. I need to let this go and be happy with what I have and appreciate what positive characteristics I can exude. On that note too, stepping back and enjoying life’s simple pleasures and not feeling guilty about it. It’s okay to occasionally dance, enjoy some music, eat something rich, buy something you desire, adorn your bedroom with something simple so you have comfortable surroundings … every once in awhile…

And with interactions with other people – it’s hard to decide. Should you just let go of those that constantly drain you? That constantly see things with a negative clarity and always see the glass half empty? I feel like you should always give them an opportunity, to try to show them the light, but make sure your light is burning strong enough so you don’t lose your light in the process. Perhaps make sure you are always still in touch with those that are also burning bright, your closest and dearest friends, that are also attempting to do the same. And constantly remind yourself of the following because it makes life so much more enjoyable.
There will always be some who will complain about what they get,
And others that will always be thankful,
Be the latter.