An American among Aymaras

Proud to be an American Abroad

2008-11-05T09:07:00.000-08:00

Today, for the first time in my travels abroad, I have felt an overwhelming sense of pride and excitement as a U.S. citizen. Last night, watching the CNN projections in a packed room of expats, university students in study abroad programs, diplomats, international workers, and a few Peruvians. I cheered and screamed with everyone when Obama was officially recognized as the 44th president of the United States....

...and I was taken back to Argentina, 2003. My brother recommended that I put a Canadian flag on my backpack before I left the country. There were days when I wished I had. Everytime I met someone, be it in a cafe, in a classroom, in a club at 3am in the morning, I was asked: "You are American? Are you a Republican?" It seemed everyone disapproved of the US then, and Republicans were faced with harsh responses from foreigners. A Republican house-mate of mine, from Louisianna had some scary run-ins that year in Argentina. One day, she jumped in a cab, and the driver asked her where she was from. When she responded "Los Estados Unidos" the driver began to scream, literally scream out his window "I HAVE THE WAR IN MY TAXI!" She threw him a few pesos as he stopped at the next stoplight, and promptly jumped out.

Being in Latin America during the past 8 years has not always been frightening, but it certainly has been tough. Most people are consiencious that the general public is not responsible for many of the decisions the Bush Administration made. Still, there was a sense of resentment and judgment passed on the American population for having allowed its leadership to lead us to where we...and the world are today.

But last night, I felt a sense of admiration for my country, for my nationality. I cheered with my fellow Americans as Obama called out to us, "And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces, to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of the world, our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand."

Today, we Americans abroad, have a new sense of duty and position in our global community, as we are lead by a man who embodies a spirit of diversity and diplomacy that is called for from the shores of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans to the shores of the highest navigable lake in the world.

change of travel plans

2008-10-07T10:38:00.000-07:00

Let me just start off with the moral of the story before I actually get to the story: when traveling in Peru, ask each and every day if there is going to be a paro or road blockade/strike and figure out the best alternative to get where you have to go.

*sigh*

So...

I was suppose to fly out from Puno to Lima on Tuesday, the 7th. Last Saturday night, Qiqe's mom tells me to call the airline, LAN, ASAP because there is going to be a paro by the truck drivers and a big blockade in Puno, possibily throughout the south of the country. This would mean it probably would be difficult to get to the airport. There was a chance I could spend the night in a hotel in the gloriously dangerous city of Juliaca (where the airport is). But, that was certainly not a good or safe or secure option. Many times the strikers will also cut off movement within Juliaca, and direct attention on avenues of transit like the airport.

So I call LAN, the Chilean airlines with a monopoly on Peruvian air, and they told me they could not accept my call without my reservation code, which I of course left in my house. I rush to the house to get the code, call LAN, and get put on hold for 20 minutes. They finally say that I need to call back in 30 minutes so that they can tell me if I can change my flight. So I wait...call back...and they say that my flight was purchased on their economical plan, which doesn't allow me to change my ticket. Then, the LAN attendant begins the song and dance about how LAN is not accountable to external disruption of travel plans, such as paros, so they aren't held responsible to change my flight. And the plan I am on won't even permit me to pay more money to change the date or schedule AND, (to put the cherry on top of this horrifying mess), missing the first half of the flight means the whole trip is cancelled. No return flight. period. I automatically lost my return flight for the 16th of the month!

Now, I could have waited until Tuesday to see if the paro was serious and prayed that there was no major blockade. But, I had a presentation with the Rotary on Thursday. If I missed the flight because of the blockade, my only option would be to put down another 150 dollars or more for a flight...HOPING that there was room on the Wednesday planes because there wouldn't be enough time to take the bus (20hours) leaving on Wednesday to get to Lima for a 7:30am presentation with the Rotary Club. Grrrrrrrrrrrr.... what to do, what to do?

Qiqe's parents and I discussed my options, and in the end, I opted to ditch my flight, bought a 1 way bus ticket for 40 bucks, and was on the road for 20 hours from Puno to Lima.

Fantastic. I hope you just yet another ridiculous story about my travels in Peru!

highway turned race track

2008-09-22T10:15:00.000-07:00

This past week I took a break from Puno and travelled to Arequipa with my arqueologist friend, Amanda. We met Benito, a co-worker from Concordia Language Villages, who just arrived to Peru in order to work on my Amantani literacy project over the next few months. Since Benito was getting used to the altitude (11,000 ft. in Arequipa), we decided to take advantage his condition and spend an additional day in the white city. The plan was to travel to Puno on the 10am bus the following day, Friday. But, of course, it's Peru and things never go as planned, and so I share with you yet another story:

The bus left on schedule at 10:00 am. I assumed things would go smoothly, especially as the bus was more than half full with tourists. We got about 30 minutes outside of Arequipa, on the hot, dessert outskirts of the city, when the bus was pulled over by the highway police.

No announcement was made by the driver, so initially we just waited. Benito and I could see that there were some angry Peruvians getting out of a bus in front of us. So, after about 10 minutes another American sitting near us went down to the bus driver to see what is happening. As it turns out, they had closed the highway between Arequipa and Cuzco for the Inca Path Road Race...an annual car race throughout the country. As luck (??) would have it we'd just happened to be on the route of the race that day. We were told we'd be holding from then (11:00) until around 2pm...maybe 3pm. In Peruvian that means 4pm...maybe 5pm!!!!!!!!! That meant, instead of getting into Puno around 3pm we'd arrive, at the earliest, 9pm or 10pm!!!!

The idea of being stuck on the bus on the edge of the city of Areqiupa that long...with about 4 pieces of bread, 5 clementines, and a bottle of water didn't sound great.

I called one of Qiqe's good friends who we'd seen the day before, Giorgio, and asked him if he thought we could get our tickets refunded for the next day. He said not to worry, stay put, and he'd call me back in 5 minutes. He returned the call, telling me how he had pretended to be our tour agent (his family runs 2 hotels and a tour agency) and yelled at the bus company. The bus company claimed they had warned all their passengers about the road blockage, and therefore would not hold themselves accountable.

Of course, we were not told about the road race...or the fact that it meant the entire highway would be closed all day. Seriously...who in their right mind would say, okay, I'll buy the ticket for 10am anyways and sit on the highway until 3 or 4ish!?!??! Strikes, road blocks, etc. never are good for transportation services. Instead of taking the high road (figuratively speaking) and being straightforward with their clients, these companies sell their tickets to make money and leave their clients stranded...literally.

We were not about to sit under the hot sun, so we got off the AC-less bus, requested the driver remove our bags from the storage unit, and grabbed the first taxi we saw to take us back to the city (for a total of 8 soles). Two quite intelligent, non-Spanish speaking German tourists approached us and asked if they could tag along. So, we found a second taxi and were off to the bus terminal. Giorgio, bless his soul, was studying for a test in his pijamas and quickly got changed and grabbed a cab from his house to meet us in the terminal. While he demanded our tickets be replaced for the following day, I called the hostal we stayed at the evening before and booked 3 rooms.

Our tickets were replaced, at no charge for the following day, the hostal gave us the rooms at a nice discount, and we spent the afternoon on the Plaza de Armas sipping coffee and reading instead of baking in the sun in a hot bus. It was, by far, our favorite day in Arequipa on the trip. Moral of the story: when in Peru...know what's going on on the social front, be proactive so that you don't get burned by inconsiderate tourism players, and plan a few days extra in case you get stuck on the side of the road as a highway is converted into a race track.

Getting back to work

2008-09-03T14:54:00.000-07:00

Okay, I know, it's been a REALLY long time since I've posted something on this page. I wish to extend my sincerest apologizes to those who have continuously read my blog. You are probably wondering what happened to me since the last post MONTHS ago...let me just help you catch up:

-June and July were INSANE! Talk about your high tourism season! The restaurant was PACKED day and night! We were short one cook, so Qiqe was busy in the kitchen and I was upstairs trying to manage the overflow of customers. 13-14 hour days did not make it easy to sit in front of a computer to blog!

-The last time I posted on my blog I was extremely excited to be a legal resident. Sad to say, I was a bit premature in my celebration. Coming back to Puno from Bolivia, I still had quite a bit of bureaucratic....I'll try to keep this p.c. for the kids....hoopla to go through. Not fun. After more trips to the bank in Puno, getting my dental record checked with tools that I am pretty sure were never sanitized between patiences, more pictures, more waiting in line I was FINALLY given the okay to go to Lima to pick up my foreigner ID.

So, in Lima it only took another 2 weeks (after an amazing trip home with Qiqe to see my family) to get the okay first from INTERPOL...and the US FBI, and migrations. I will spare you all those details....because seriously, I could write a book on this whole experience. I would probably title it "Go Illegal or Go Get Married: saving time, money, and sanity...cuz legalization in Peru just ain't worth it".

Now that I am back in Puno, things are quite different. Qiqe is in Lima starting his first semester in Cordon Bleu. I can't wait to see him and have him cook for me! He loves it but has an incredibly busy workload.

Ursula, his sister, has taken over the administration of the restaurant, which has allowed me to focus more time and energy on the quinoa project and other social endeavours in the city. I invite you all to keep up with my work on my new sister blog www.samka-puno.blogspot.com where I am managing information for the project. Until we get funding to design a website, this blog will serve to provide information on our project.

This blog will be a bit more informal....a bit more check-out-this-crazy-experience to keep you all entertained on the ridiculousness of my life here among the Aymaras.

:) I will do my best to get back on track with my story-telling!

Legal residency...FINALLY

2008-05-30T09:58:00.000-07:00

In mid-March Qiqe's dad was pushing us to start the application process for my worker's residency visa. "You don't want to wait until the last minute to deal with a bunch of problems," he warned us. What none of us realized at the time was that the whole process would be quite a problem.

I arrived to Peru on February 27th (the plane touched down right at 12:01....happy birthday to me!) on a tourist visa, providing me 90 days of residence in the country. After 90 days, I would need to leave Peru, enter a different country, and then re-enter Peru to revalidate my 90 days on a new tourist visa. To simply live in this country, this process does not present any legal problems...

...but, of course, things are never that simple. First of all, it is a tad expensive to move between countries every 90 days. Before Evo Morales took office in Bolivia, this situation was much easier. La Paz is a mere 6 hour drive from Puno, and many foreigners take advantage of the border to renew their visa. For Americans, though, the new policy of "reciprocity" has complicated the situation. Due to the strict migration policies of the USA, countries like Bolivia, Brazil and Chile have implemented a visa process for Americans who wish to travel to their countries. They all require US citizens to pay more than $100 dollars to apply for a visa.

Bolivia went above and beyond this requirement by presenting six or seven requirements for US tourists, including demonstrating economic solvency (they request a copy of your credit card!!!) Because I knew I'd have to visit Bolivia at least once in the coming year, I did apply and receive a Bolivian visa while I was still in D.C. It was a pain, but at least it was one less issue to worry about once I was in Peru. The biggest downfall is that the visa only allows you to enter Bolivia three times a year for a period of five years with a limit of 90 days per year!

Another reason that I need a work visa in order to, well, work! The benefit of having a worker's visa allows me to receive an income and live in Peru for up to two years without having to leave the country. Plus, it resolves any concerns that observers may have of my presence in the restaurant. The last thing I would want to do is cause problems for Qiqe, his family, or their business!

And so the process of applying for my workers visa began...and let me give you a summary of the ridiculous steps we had to take over a period of a month and a half:

**please note here that there is no written explanation or process to actually explain HOW to do all this...and each time we did one process we normally had to wait 30 minutes to speak with someone**

-go to the Ministery of Labor and present ourselves to the director who would okay the visa...just a quick "hi" to find out how to begin

-go to Migration Office to request the form required for a foreigner to sign a contract

-go to bank, wait in line to pay 20 dollars and 27 soles to the Migration Office

-return to Migration Office with bank payment slip

-go to photocopy center to make copies of passport, bank payment slip, and form

-return to Migration Office and receive form to sign contract

-go to Ministry of Labor with form to find out what forms, paperwork is needed

-create contract, print off diploma, fill out 4-5 other additional paper work needed

-return to Ministry of Labor to be told that we need three copies of each document, signed by notary

-go to notary to have papers signed...after hunting down three different lawyers on two days because they all take lunch breaks from 12-4pm!!!!!

-return to Ministry of Labor and be told that we needed to have three separate folders for each set of papers

-get folders, go back to Ministry of Labor

-go to bank to make similar payment to Ministry of Labor

-return to Ministry of Labor with bank slip

-go to Photocopy center to make copies of bank slip and signed document by Ministry of Labor

-return to Migrations Office with signed documents by Ministry of Labor

-go to bank to make another payment (I'm still unclear why we had to pay them again)

-return to Migrations Office....here begins the wait up to 45 minutes to speak to anyone, and most of the time they aren't doing anything in the office!

-go to Photocopy center to make copies of bank slip, signed documents by Ministry of Labor

-return to Migration Office to send materials to Lima for approval.

This was done on April 14th. We were told to come the first week of May to hear when we could go to La Paz to pick up the visa.

-First week of May, no word from Lima

-Second week of May, still no word. Some of my friends recommended that I pay off the staff with some cash to make the process speed up. I refused to sink that low.

Luckily, it turned out that Qiqe's mom was friends with the director of Migrations...get this....the director of Migration's mother use to sell them contraband televisions and other electronics. Oh the irony. Anyways, Qiqe's mom and I went into the office to meet the director. Enjoy the following dialogue:

Director of Migrations "Rosa! How are you? It's been so long since I have seen you."
Rosa "It is good to see you too. Congratulations on the position..."
(additional small talk)
Director of Migrations "I didn't know that this was your case...I will make sure it goes through tomorrow"
Rosa "Please do...Laura only has a few days left here with her visa, and we really would like to get things in place as soon as possible."
Director of Migrations "Of course"
Rosa "Yes, she is working with us now. She is my son's girlfriend"
Director of Migrations "Oh that is wonderful! You know, Laura, you two could just get married and this would go much faster"
(moment in which my face turns BRIGHT red and I somehow forget to speak Spanish)

We thank the director, and leave...and wait...and wait....until I can't wait any longer, and I have to leave Peru because my tourist visa is almost up. So Enrique and I take a day off to go to Bolivia, and return the following day to renew my tourist visa.
(the pictures are from our break in La Paz....one of my favorite cities in Latin America by the way!!!)

Four days later we get the call that my visa has been approved! FINALLY. Now, I just have to return to Bolivia in the coming week, obtain my visa from the Consulate of Peru in La Paz and come back into Peru.

So, ugh, yeah...gotta love Latin American bureaucracy!

Introductions

2008-05-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

It has been unseasonably cold the past week. Needless to say, it was a bit difficult to wake up at 5:30 am and leave the comfort of 4 wool blankets, 1 fleece, and a hot water bag. Still, I managed to get up, put on two pair of pants, two sweaters, my winter jacket, my hat, my gloves, and my sunscreen. Qiqe and I were on the bus a little after 6am and rode out to Juli to meet up with Nico and Oscar of the NGO, Centro-IRPA, the local organization behind our new project.

We jumped into Nico's truck and headed out to our first visit of the morning in the community of Anchoaqui, in the District of Huacullani, of the Province of Chucuito (a.k.a- middle of nowhere rural Puno.) Our guest was a relative of Nico, which may play a key factor in making the project work in this sector.

Over the next hour, we spoke with two locals about the production of quinoa. Currently, they produce an adequate amount of quinoa and even in a year of difficult weather, for their family's needs. They are even able to salvage a few kilos of the grain for sales on a good year. Generally, though, they produce a more bitter version of the quinoa which requires additional washing, and is not as appetizing as the white, or sweet quinoa.

For the needs of the restaurant, we explained that they would have to harvest a specific strand of white quinoa called “Sajama” because it is a larger and sweeter grain that is easier for recipes like taboule, quinoto, and other salads. The two farmers expressed a bit of concern because sweet quinoa often falls victim to hungry birds that inhabit the area. We all shared a laughed as Nico joked that the community was afraid of birds. But he did question if they used any tactics to scare the birds off like scarecrows or netting. The farmers commented that this was never done, so it gives us all hope that a different method may help protect the sweet quinoa.

We spoke a bit more about the local human, socio-economic and technical farming production realities of the community. The population lives in extreme poverty. There is no medical center in the region and only one school for 60 children who are taught by 2 teachers (3 grade levels taught per teacher).

What I found to be completely shocking was the price at which they currently sell their quinoa grain. An arrobaor about 6.5 kilos sells for about 15-18 soles (that’s about .60 cents of a sole per kilo!) In the local market in Puno, quinoa grain sells up to 8 soles a kilo. We still need to do the math with the NGO as well as consider a more adequate payment for the quinoa, as to not overwhelm the expectations of the producers at the onset of our work.

Next, we set off towards Lake Titicaca. Nico said to save time we would cross one of the hilltops, which Qiqe and I thought he was just saying as a joke…but literally….we took this crazy path and drove over a small mountain. It was like being in a ford truck commercial…and his truck is, seriously, like a rock.

After another 45 minute drive we arrived in the lakeshore community of Isani in the district of Zepita. If the project works here, it is an ideal spot to conduct agro-tourism as it is situated right between the border towns of Yunguyo and Desaguaderos.

The wind from the lake felt so cold that we hoped to convince the farmer we had come to meet to meet in the truck. He really wanted us to come speak in his house, which in this case meant in the yard of his house. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

This meeting proved to be a bit more apprehensive and uncertain. The community currently does not produce a great deal of quinoa as it holds less purchasing power in the local markets compared to beans, potatoes, and barley. Still, the farmer was open to the opportunity and will invite another five farmers to participate in the effort.

With both communities, we are set to meet with all the interested farmers and begin discussion of the project in late June. The day was long, but extremely productive, and we are all quite hopeful for its development. Next up, Nico and I have a lot of work to edit the project and start seeking out financial support for the effort!

An Education in Tourism

2008-04-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

We woke up at 6:30 to start packing the box lunches. The tour bus picked us up at 8:00 and we were on our way to Atuncolla, a small community outside of the Sillustani Funeral Temples (about 45 minutes away from Puno.)

It seemed like a normal tourist outing, but in reality, the big yellow tour bus of All Way Travel hauled out a special group of passengers: Nina Fogelman, Director of Ancient Summer Enterprises, Inc., Mery Calderón, Director of Kuoda Tours Agency, Victor Pauca, Manager of All Ways Travel, Jeny Juño, President of the Chamber of Hotels and Owner of Kusillos Posada Hostal, her son, Gerson, Enrique, and myself.

The bus was also hosted boxes of story books, encyclopedias, and a bookshelf. The purpose of the trip was to inaugurate a new approach to tourism, connecting tourists with locals, and both parties to education with the objective of supporting the educational potential rural youth. The tourism project is based on the curriculum that Victor and I developed during my first months here as a Fulbright. Now, it seems, our dream is becoming a reality. Victor, Mery, and Nina are very committed to supporting the development of social conscientious tourism that promote local, culturally sensitive development in the rural communities of Puno. Nina brought together a very gracious donation of books and shelves. All three are hopeful that their clients will be interested in participating in the tourism route.

During our trip, we gave books to children in a local kindergarden and elementary school. Money was also raised by Nina and her contacts to improve the sanitation services for the elementary school.

The amazing part of this whole effort is that tourists can participate both directly and indirectly.

Those that wish to visit the communities can take part in the trip through any of the three tourism agencies. They can visit the schools, meet the children and work with them as tutors to read and with other academic development needs. At the same time, they get a chance to see the BEAUTIFUL lagoon and the temple ruins of Sillustani or Lake Titicaca.

Those that do not want to visit the sights, or want to support indirectly can make donations (monetary or in the form of academic materials like books, pencils, etc.) either to Nina in the US or with Victor in Puno. If anyone would like to see the profile of the program, I would be happy to mail them a copy via my work email: samka_puno@hotmail.com

Our Little Dream...

2008-04-07T14:44:00.000-07:00

I am happy to announce that my professional reason for being in Puno (of course many of you know my personal rational) has begun to take life. More than a year ago, Qiqe and I spoke of meshing our passions: his love of high class, highland Peruvian cuisine and mine for rural local development in indigenous society.

Question-What do you get when you unite a Peruvian Restauranteur...soon-to-be Cordon Bleu Chef with a Fulbright Scholar?

Answer- A Socially Consientious Dining Experience!

We had our first planning meeting with IRPA, the Rural Institute for Andean Progress, made up of a team of agronomist and microfinanzers who will help us develop our Fair Trade Quinua Project, Samka (which means dream in Aymara).

As some of you know, quinoa is a very impressive grain that originates from the Andes. It is high in protein, and is a great healthy substitute to rice and pastas. If you enter a Whole Foods or other organic food store you will certainly see quinoa. But look closely, and you will notice that the majority of the grain comes from Bolivia :( Our goal is to change this tendency and develop a fair trade, organic market on the Peruvian side of the border.

Our project is a bit different, though, than a typical fair trade effort. Generally, fair trade supports producers by providing them a fair price for their quinoa, incluiding a premium above the market price. This premium is used (as designated by the association of producers) for local development projects. In this case, though, the producers have a large market, normally in Europe or the US, that supports their efforts.

As we are beginning a this project, with completely inexperienced producers and a NGO that has never worked under the stringent guidelines of Fair Trade, Qiqe and I are offering a different approach supporting the growth of the Fair Trade, organic, quinoa market.

First, we will serve as a local market, to ensure income for the producers at a fair price (at or above the local market level).

Next, we will raise the price (2-3 soles) on our plates that present the quinua (as soup, taboule, qiunotto) in order to funnel the extra earnings into a fund for projects in the community. Its a little different than the general fair trade model, providing upfront premium, as we are trying to provide incentive and motivation to our producers as well as our clients in the project.

I will have more information to come, but that is the basic idea of the project. We will market our effort in our restaurant and our website. After the producers are selected (by the local NGO), Qiqe and I will meet with them in order to iniciate the work before the planting season (in late August).

End of Month

2008-04-02T07:42:00.001-07:00

I can't believe over a month has already past! While the time has flown, it certainly has not been a piece of torta.

Last night we had our first monthly meeting with the restaurant's staff to summarize the activities, advances, problems, etc. of the restaurant. Things have become smoother as Qiqe's parents returned from Argentina, the staff and I are getting use to one another, and our projects are beginning to come to life. We still need to improve on a lot of things, but I am finding a great need to be patient with myself. Like I mentioned, I am use to working in restaurants (or more importantly, management) that have years of experience and knowledge. Now, I am the management working with my partner of a mere 2 year. Man do we have a LONG way to go!

The waitresses and I are starting to warm up to one another on a professional level. I have been friends with them for more a year now, and we really do like each other. Now, it's just a question of figuring one another out in the working environment. On the other side of the house, I love our kitchen staff! We get along so well, they are such hard workers and really do the restaurant proud. They all want to learn English, and so everytime I enter the kitchen, they ask me a new word. They all seem to get a kick out of the silliest things like "lettuce" or the American pronunciation of "hamburger". Though, the past few days, I have protested my English instruction because the chef keeps walking around with the skull of a cuy (guinea pig) in her apron, trying to convince me to use it as decoration for our dishes (we served cuy to a Portuguese group upon request, and I almost lost it...the kitchen won't let me forget about that for a while.)

Today...or tomorrow (because this is Peru, of course who knows what time it will actually be....) we are hoping to introduce our new menu! Qiqe and I have slaved over the details for a few weeks, but are quite happy with the results. Of course, we had to redo a lot of the English when the printing company prepared the final copy. I think they spelled mushrooms about 5 different ways! Additionally, the menu helps resolve cost issues. The past month has seen signs of inflation in the market prices, though the past few days costs seem to be lowering again.

Tomorrow we have our first planning meeting with the NGO...so I will have more to share after that.

OH!!!!!!!!!! And our new website is up!!!!!!!! www.mojsarestaurant.com CHECK IT OUT!!!! The English translation should be up soon.

This sure ain't Starbucks...

2008-03-15T06:58:00.000-07:00

Two nights ago, I realized how different and difficult it is to insert oneself into a business in another country. I also noticed that my new job here is more challenging than my research as a Fulbright (seriously, it beats the fleas and bathroom...holes).

During high school I worked as a hostess/cashier in Legends Restaurant at the RAC in Rochester, MN. Ah, Friday night fish fries during Lent...I will never forget the smell of my uniform. In college, I managed to pay my coffee addiction by working at Starbucks (another smelly uniform job). Let me tell you, working for Joe Powers and the Starbucks Corp definitely instills in an employee a certain level of standards and expectations in the service work place: puntuality, hygenic standards, completing with job requirements...you know, stuff that you do or else, well, you're fired.

Our entire staff, except for one extremely punctual kitchen helper would all be fired by now if we functioned on the U.S. working clock. The norm is that people show up 15 to 20 minutes late to work and nothing is said. Qiqe gets annoyed with me that I want to open the restaurant at 8am on the dot or show up to replace one of the waitresses at 3pm. He reasons that they come late, so why should we be timely. But he also rationalizes that we can't be too demanding because the pool of potential personnel in the city. Live with what you have, and deal with the frequently irritable waitresses...because they are the best that we can get.

Now, I am not saying that Mojsa isn't a clean restaurant, but certainly its apples and oranges from the US expectations of cleaning (products, procedures, etc.) I've been slowing trying to push some changes in the way dishes are handled and left to dry. Instead of leaving a huge pile of plates, silverware and glasses on the back counter for all to see (and some to cringe like me), I tried to implement the use of a bucket to hold dirty dishes until they can be washed. "It takes up too much space" or "I like my ordering of biggest glasses to smallest, that looks clean" is the response I have received. Grrrrrrrr.

During a conversation with one of the restaurant's waitresses, we talked about change and improvements. She stated that the mentality of Peruvians...especially in Puno, was to stay in the same routine and that change wasn't welcome. She felt that we (Americans) have a different mentality of moving forward, making things better, etc. Of course, this waitress has been the most hesitant and unhappy with my ideas to improve the cleanliness.

I am now understanding just how very delicate this balancing act will be. In order to make improvements (both in the restaurant and in the rural projects we do) it will require a great degree of coaxing and patience to make the small changes needed so that the routine turns into a more productive, useful routine. My biggest challenge is to see how to find a compromise with my goals for improvement and the cultural norms with the restaurant's staff.

A Chambear Full! (Time to work hard!)

2008-03-08T06:13:00.001-08:00

I'm back in Puno!!!! My friends have all come to greet me and my boyfriend and his family have been so gracious helping me settle in. It is definitely odd being back and having people recognize me as I walk down the street. It seems like such a long time since I've been here (7 months actually), but at the same time I felt like I was able to just fit right back in where I was before...well, after the 4 days it took to adjust to the altitude.

Very little has changed in the city. There are a few new hotels, fine alpaca clothing stores, and fresh paint on some buildings. Surprisingly, though, there are no new restaurants. Tourism is pretty low. This season is considered "temporada baja", or the low season. The Candelaria Festival has just ended and Carnavales are over, so people are pretty partied out.

I have been formally introduced to the staff at the restaurant where I am working, Mojsa, as a co-manager. It a lot of work, and long days (staring at 8am, ending sometimes around 11pm). But I am loving every moment of it. My responsibilities are really dynamic and high-energy. I do everything from overseeing consumption and expenses to design work for the website, menu, marketing, to training with the staff and schmoozing with the customers.

The best news was from our initial meeting with the NGO for our social project. They are EXTREMELY interested in our project and we will have our first planning meeting at the beginning of April! I am very happy that the project is already making headway. It will be another few months until things get off the ground, but I feel very confident that we are headed in the right direction.

Oh, but the MOST exciting news for now is that the market is now selling SOY YOGURT!!!! I had a bit of a super-happy-dancing moment yesterday when I found out. It's the small things you appreciate in Peru :)

Back to Puno....PART TWO! :)

2008-02-17T07:32:00.000-08:00

After an eight month break, I return to sharing my adventures of An American among Aymaras. This means, of course, that I am returning to Puno Peru!!! :) I returned to the U.S. in early June after spending 10 months as a fulbright scholar in Puno. I spent the rest of the summer working at Concordia Language Villages, and then returned to Washington, D.C. to continue my Master's degree in International Peace and Conflict Resolution.

So...I'm pulled out a 205 page thesis and now all my grades, paperwork, etc. are finished at school, and I'm officially a MA graduate (woohoo)!! Next up, I'm returning to Lake Titicaca!!!

Of course some of you may know part of the reason why I am returning...others may not, so I'll lay out my reasons for you here:

As my family and best friends know...my choice to move back to Puno is two-fold. On the one hand, I fell in love. Of course, I am in love with the country, the cultures, the food, and the friends I have made, but also with a very amazing Peruvian guy. If you have read any of my earlier blog entries, you have surely seen his name pop up from time to time. Enrique (who I normally just call Qiqe) and I became close friends when I arrived in late 2006. Since then, our friendship has grown (blah blah and all that cutsy lovey dovey stuff)....

Let's just fastforward to a year after we met (September 2007). I went down to Lima to see Qiqe for a week while he was applying for his tourist visa at the US Embassy (come on, can you blame me....I found a $300 ticket from DC to Lima!!!!). We decided then to formalize our relationship and become boyfriend/girlfriend (not a marriage proposal, mother!!!!). After receiving his visa, Qiqe took his first trip to the US in December to spend the holidays with me and my family in Minnesota (please enjoy the pictures of a Peruvian in the winter wonderland that is Minnesota. The snowblower shot is my favorite...his first time in the snow!!

Back in Puno, I will also be returning to do some really fantastic work. I'm extremely excited to share it with you all, but for the time being, I will just give you the general explanation. My intention is to develop my work more fully and continually update efforts on this blog, as well as share fun stories just like old times.

So basically, my project is to create a socially consientious dining experience for international tourists in Puno, Peru. Qiqe and I will mesh our love for quality Peruvian cuisine, highland produce, and rural development. We will work to

develope a fair trade focused restaurant (in his already highly successful tourist restaurant, Mojsa. The project will provide a market for rural producers under specific set of agreements to ensure the premium we provide for their product will be returned in the community as social development for community needs (sanitation, education, irrigation improvements). Also, we will share our efforts and the local realities with tourists, encouraging them to understand and support the efforts to improve rural living and working conditions in a more sustainable and collaborative approach.

There's a lot of work to be done, and I will have a lot to learn. I hope you will all join me on this exciting adventure! I will be leaving for Puno in 9 days, 1 hour and 30 minutes (not that I'm counting!!!) hahaha!

¡Hasta Luego Perú!

2007-06-06T07:23:00.000-07:00

It is almost time to return to gringolandia. Right now, I am spending my last days in Lima. Kike came with me to send me off, but only after we completed the Gaston culinary adventure. Gaston Acurio is the most famous Peruvian chef and Kike is pretty much in love with him. So, we had to check out his restaurantsssss in Lima. Yesterday we had breakfast/lunch in his sandwich shop T'anta (which means bread in Quechua). The funny thing about eating with Kike in restaurants with good food and good plate presentation is that you are NOT allowed to even touch your fork until he has taken the best picture.

In the afternoon, Kike was dead set on finding his other sandwich place. I think the difference was that the second, new restaurant served traditional Lima-style sandwiches. We never found out because no one knew where the restaurant was. After wandering around shopping and sightseeing for three+ hours, we decided to give up our search and just find a spot to relax and have a small snack. So.....I knew of a place that had good chicken wings....

Can you believe that Kike had never heard of "Hooters"?? If the boy is going to visit me in the states, I might as well have him start preparing for the culture shock, right? These are the fun moments I have with him. He loves trying new food, but in reality has not had a lot of American experience (meaning things that we all take for granted). For example, just yesterday, he had his first Starbucks latte drink (caramel macchiatto), corona beer (though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to put lime in his, and then really liked it when he tried), and medium spicy chicken wings. :)

In the evening, we went to Gaston's most famous and acclaimed restaurant, Astrid y Gastón, for dinner. Assuming that EVERYONE in Lima knows of the magic that is Gaston, Kike jumped in a cab and requested that the driver take us to the restaurant, near Parque Kennedy. The driver knew Parque Kennedy. He had no idea where the restaurant was located. So, we got out of the cab and started to look for the restaurant. We thought it wouldn't be the best idea to ask in another restaurant where Gaston's place was, so first we asked a security guard. He sent us off in one (the wrong) direction, until we asked a traffic policeman. Seeing that the traffic policeman couldn't even give us the name of the street, we were on at that moment, we decided to look for other help. The little old woman who owned the kiosk at the corner did not even know how to pronounce Gaston's name, so we continued on our way. I was a bit more surprised when we asked the attendants at a four star hotel, and by this time my feet were sore and I was certain that we had lost our reservation.

But determined (and quite hungry) Kike would not give up. Finally, we asked an older national policeman who pointed us in the right direction. The restaurant ended up being a block away from where the cab had dropped us off, but we managed to walk around 7 blocks of Parque Kennedy!

Dinner was fantastic! I was afraid for a while that I wouldn't be permitted to eat my meal with all the pictures he was taking. Finally I was given the okay to taste my sword fish with a traditional tacu-tacu (bean mix). Unfortunately Gaston was not in town yesterday, so Kike was not able to meet his hero. The waitor, though, was very generous and gave Kike a free copy of last year's menu. He looked like he had died and gone to heaven when he held it in his hands.

Today, after I meet with the Cultural Attaché of the US Embassy, we are supposedly headed to Gaston's cevichería restaurant. I am not a big fan of uncooked fish, but we'll see how it goes!

Tonight I leave for Washington, D.C. and will be back in Minnesota on Sunday. I can't believe my time here has come to an end. I already miss Puno so much, and everyone there. Saying goodbye to Lima won't be very hard, but leaving all the memories of my time in this country will be tough.

Favorite Fulbright Memories

2007-05-22T12:32:00.000-07:00

My time as a Fulbright scholar in Puno is coming to an end. Today I sent in my final report to the Fulbright Commission (because if you don't they hold your final month's stipend eeeek!!!) Last Thursday, I conducted my final focus group. No more flea bites, no more 3lbs. plates of potato and rice for lunch, no more showerless weeks, and no more squatting exercises when I go to the bathroom. Can you believe I am actually really going to miss it!

While my parents aren't too pumped to hear this, I am happy to announce that my time in Puno is not coming to an end. I simply am taking a break from the region to finish my thesis for my Master's degree and prepare for a whole new set of adventures. I will have more updates (and of course blog entries) to share about the future plans. For now, though, I would like to share a short photographic trip down memory lane of some of the funky/fun/crazy/amazing things that I have encountered in the past 10 months in Puno, Peru.

Enjoy...

IN PUNO CITY

My dear friends of Mojsa Restaurant, who have fed me over the past 10 months. Mojsa, in Aymara, means "sweet" or "delicious".

The restaurant is owned by the Nuñez family, and Kike the manager. Mojsa definitely has the best view in town. It is the only tourism restaurant in the Plaza de Armas, looking over the Cathedral and the almost daily craziness of parades and protests.

I absolutely LOVE this picture. Ursula and I went to pick up my wig for the Candelaria dance festival, and the store was busy getting an order prepared for a dance group. The little girl was the daughter of the store owner. I don't know what is heavier...the baby or the masks.

The gringas! We are few, but proud. Sarah and Carly work with the Foundation for Sustainable Development, based out of San Fransisco. Sarah has been doing really cool research on the conflicts between the National Reserve and the Uros Floating Islands. Carly, a.k.a. "Mom" is the intern coordinator for the Americans who come to Puno to work in various NGOs. She takes care of all of us. These two are the bomb.

My boys...Gerson, my house brother (left) and Kike (center). Puno simply would not be the same if I had not had the two of them. Like our costumes? This was Halloween night in Puno. I was a torero and the boys were "kusillos", the typical clowns of Puno. They ran around all night acting like crazy people...running in front of taxis, bothering people walking down the street, swirling around light poles. Since they were with me and all of them had masks on, everyone thought they were foreigners! hahaha.

No, I did not buy a llama while I was here. This is an alpaca in one of the small towns, Chucuito, where I initially took introductory Aymara language classes. Alpacas are more gentle than llamas, and less likely to spit. Their wool is so smooth and soft!

My cholito! I bought some beautiful costumes for my Spanish camp, but they were a bit confusing with all the accessories, so we had a fashion show so that I could keep track of which costume was which. Kike got tricked into playing model for the day, but I think he kind of liked it! :)

The picture I think everyone has been waiting to see: my dance costume for the Candelaria festival! I dressed up like a "diablada", devil. The head piece was sooooo heavy and uncomfortable, but luckily my boots did not hurt my feet. At least my costume wasn't as hot as that of the ukuku bear next to me.

IN THE FIELD

This is my favorite picture of them all! I took this shot during one of my focus groups. The children here are so adorable!

Lunch is served. A typical meal of potatoes and fish in the lake side community. While I tried to avoid eye contact with my meal and peel off the scales, my companions ate everything but the skeleton....yuck.

A focus group with Nico Zapana in Kelluyo, Chucuito. This was the day that it was raining and windy and I had a really hard time picking up the voices of the focus group on my recorder. The entire focus group was conducted in Aymara, and I was TOTALLY out of the loop on what was being said!

Tales of Rural Travels

2007-05-10T18:46:00.000-07:00

WOW. I just had a crazy week of field work. From Sunday to Wednesday I traveled from one end of the lake to the other to do research in the district of Kelluyo and Moho. Overall, I finished the focus groups, interviews, and discussions I had hoped to accomplish. Luckily, I was only faced with one scary meal of beans and potatoes (I am going to guess 2-3 lbs on my plate). Found the trick to not eating the whole plate: ask for a plastic bag to take the food with you and no one is offended!

Only one community proved to hold me back. When it rains in rural Puno, not many peasants like to attend meetings. So, I will have to return for a final hurrah next Wednesday to Friday...and hopefully not have any more flea bites (seriously, those buggers really, really itch!!!!!)

Okay, so here's my story of the joys of traveling in Puno. This, I think, is my favority road trip story ever!

First of all, God bless the Church. When you work for Jesus, you definitely can get around with greater ease in rural Peru. Traveling to Kelluyo with Nico (who is the director of a development institute in the prelature of Juli) has been very relaxing. We always ride in his fancy truck out to the community. It is definitely a nice change from the smelly, stuffed combis and buses.

After the luxury travels of Kelluyo, I faced the real world as I headed to Moho: 1hr. combi to Juliaca, 3 hr. bumpy bus to Moho. In December, I had faced adversity in my return from a community in Moho and had to hitch hike on a motorcycle for a small portion of the trip. I think that Wednesday's adventure takes the cake.....

Cesar (my companion from the NGO, Jatha Muhu) and I were a bit concerned about our time crunch when we left at 8am to visit community 3 of our work. We had to accomplish 3 activities before 2:30--1) interview the mayor, 2) visit the local high school, and 3) conduct a focus group with 7 to 10 community members.

8:40- we got off the bus at the bridge point and were prepared to walk some 40 minutes to arrive at community 3. Luckily, a combi was heading to the community and offered us a ride for a bargain 1 sole!! We saved time and the exhaustion of carrying our packs. At the time, I was really happy about our stroke of luck. I think I felt relief too quickly...

9:00- we arrive at the municipality...the closed municipality. Curious as to where the mayor was, seeing that we had called in advance to schedule the appointment, we asked a local. "Oh, señorita, the community is just up there," one of the locals told me. "Just up there" translates to "they have climbed to the highest point of the hillside". So, Cesar and I dropped our bags in storage, and up we hiked. It was like climbing a mini Machupicchu...I was glad I had opted to eat the breakfast of potatoes and rice.

From the top of the hill, we could see the entire main sector of the community overlooking the lake. It really is one of the most beautiful areas of Lake Titicaca in Peru.

The Mayor and the population were surprised to see that we had come up the hill. "Why did you not wait for us down at the bottom?" his assistant asked us. "We were about to head down to meet you." Ugh.

So I have the interview with the Mayor, who is about 140 years old and can't really hear. The recording is quite funny because I am almost yelling to make sure he hears me.

11:00- We tour the high school in the community. The professors at the school were very excited to show me around...maybe a bit too excited, and I was nervously checking my watch. Cesar was going to hold the focus group in Aymara once the locals finished their communal work on the hillside. One of the locals came to inform us that the population was ready, but the director of the school insisted on showing me a few more things. So, Cesar left to begin the focus group and I stayed at the school a while longer.

1:00- The high school director accompanied me back to the municipality, and, to my surprise, Cesar was not there. We were told that everyone was having lunch, at which point I became extremely worried. The focus group would last about an hour, sometimes more, and we had to be at the bus stop (which would take 40 minutes to walk) by 2:30. In rural Puno, meetings do not begin until everyone's plate is clean.

Cesar gave me an equally concerned look. He informed me that he had tried to gather 10 community members, but everyone wanted to hear me talk. Another rural Puno reality is that rumors and speculations run fast. The population thought that I was coming to announce a huge donation for an irrigation or hamster production project. As I gulped down my soup as quickly as possible, we came up with our strategy. When I was served my 3 lbs. plate of rice and beans, I asked for a bag to take it home with me, thereby speeding up the process.

After being introduced in Aymara by the high school director, I began to talk to the 75+ community members present. In reality, I didn't have much to say, but I went on about my work, my travels....really anything to waste time. In the meantime, Cesar had plucked 10 residents out of the crowd, and no one noticed that they had gone to the municipality to do the focus group. After about 40 minutes of talking and listening to the multitude of funding requests by the community, I made my exit (of course everyone wanted the gringa picture...and my email...and for me to hold their child....)

2:15- I rushed to the municipality to find that the focus group was going rather well. Unfortunately, while Cesar was trying to get through the questions quicker than ususal, the participants were bantering in their answers. As much as I love this in my focus groups, it was making me really anxious. Finally, they finished the focus group and we grabbed our gear and headed for the road. Luckily, one of the teachers at the school offered to give us a ride to the bridge and we arrive at 2:30 on the dot!

3:00-We waited, and waited, and waited. The bus still had not come, which was a bit odd. Finally, down the road, we could see a bus heading our way. Cesar noted that it looked quite old and thought that it was probably a contraband bus. He was right. The contrabandist often buy old, used buses to transport their goods from the Bolivian border to the city of Juliaca. This rackety old bus was in pretty aweful shape. It leaned heavily to the right and had fumes coming out of the engine. The driver stopped at the bridge to throw water on the engine, and we begged him for a ride. At first, he was apprehensive, but we talked our way on.

Yup, I rode on a contraband bus, atop bags of Brazilian flour and who knows what else down an extremely bumpy, unpaved road. I couldn't stop smiling, thinking how ridiculous my travels in Moho have been to date. We got less than half way down the highway to the town of Huancané when the driver and his wife started exchanging worried looks. A fellow contraband truck approached us, and the drivers had an exchange of words...

"Are they coming?"

"Yep, its them, with the fiscal"

"THE FISCAL! THE FISCAL!" our driver started to scream, as he quickly attempted to put the bus in reverse. Panicked about the oncoming police operative, his wife threw open the door and kicked the five hitchhikers, Cesar, and me out of the bus. The other truck also stopped, opened its rear doors, and out jumped some 25 contrabandists!!! They all rolled up their sleeves, ready to take on the oncoming police cars. I assume some of them were armed, but we decided not to stick around and watch.

Unfortunately, abandoned in the middle of the countryside, Cesar and I were more worried about the oncoming storm clouds over the lake. We walked down the dirt road with four other hitchhikers and a man who had recently bought a donkey and was returning home (he had a 5 hour walk thanks to the donkey!!) We certainly lucked out because the storm was not too strong. Once we reached a major fork in the road, in order to stay dry from the cold rain and heavy wind, we hide underneath the bed of a resting truck. Unfortunately, the truck driver did not want to wait out the storm, and we were left without shelter.

Cesar and I were left with three choices. One- wait and hope that a bus or combi would show up to take us to Juliaca or at least Huancané. Two- walk to Huancané (at least 2.5 hours from where we were). Three- Walk in the opposite direction to a district capital where we would probably find a bus or taxi to take us to Huancané. Of the 7 stranded hitchhikers, 3 opted to stay, and the other 4 of us started walking towards the district capital. Ten minutes into our walk, we turned around to watch our three companions be picked up by a bus and whisked away to Juliaca....grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After walking in the rain for 25 minutes, we arrived to the district capital. A few combis were present, but no one wanted to leave at that time. Cold, tired, and anxious to get home (it was already 5pm and would be another 2 hours to get back to Puno), I told Cesar that I wanted to contract a taxi. He thought I was crazy to pay 20 soles (a little less than $7), but later thanked me for making the decision. We hired a 75 toyota to drive us on the bumpy road for an hour to Huancané. Cesar and I enjoyed some powerbars that I wisely saved for the trip....THANK YOU WIGGINS!!!!!!!!!!

From Huancané, we took a combi to Juliaca, arriving around 6:40, and from Juliaca another combi to Puno. At 8:00pm I arrived to my house, took a lukewarm shower (washing off two more fleas from my body), and headed over to Kike's restaurant for a glass of wine and something to eat that was not rice, potatoes, or bread.

The work in the country side is tiring. I have definitely been sick way to many times while I am out there. The fleas like me way too much. But I feel so sad to think that I only have one more outing left to the countryside! I know from the sounds of it is seems crazy, but I really, really am going to miss Puno!

Fulbright Scholar of the Andes Unite!

2007-04-27T10:12:00.000-07:00

*Investigating the impact of the introduction of a foreign fly on the survival of a native bird species in the Galapagos Islands of Ecuador.

*Teaching conflict resolution skills to schools with hyper-active youth in Bogota, Colombia

*Improving the engineering techniques of rural brick-layers in Cuzco, Peru.

*Understanding the political-economy during the regime of Hugo Chavez in Venezuela.

These are only a few of the amazing projects that are currently being studies by the Fulbright Scholars of the Andean region. Last week, I attended a conference for the researchers of Peru, Colombia, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Venezuela, hosted by the Colombian Fulbright Commission in the beautiful city of Cartagena.

A total of 41 Americans are present in the Andean region. Ten (seen in the picture on the right) are working on a variety of themes in the nation of Peru. From my project of conflict resolution and development in rural marginalized communities of Puno, to improving the transportation infrastructure of Lima's historic center, to researching the history of Chinese immigration of the 18th and 19th century, we Peruvian Fulbrights have done an excellent job of covering a wide field of academic interest in Peru.

For me, it was an excellent break from the cold weather in Puno. I actually had the opportunity to wear a skirt and sandals!! Plus, it was very nice to meet fellow researchers and exchange experiences. I was happy to hear about the similar frustrations of those working in the rural communities. The conference also gave each scholar the opportunity to present their work and get feedback from others.

Our visit to the historic, Caribbean fortress city was jam packed with presentations, speeches, visits to historic sites, and even an opportunity to listen to the President of Colombia speak to the local university! Unfortunately, because we were so busy, we did not have a lot of time to lay on the beach (also quite notable in the picture above....no tans or burns on anyone!)

The picture on the left shows the amazing dance group from the local university that put on a farewell show for us. The funny part of the story was that this was taken in the girl's bathroom. I had gone in and the group continued gossiping among themselves. When I went to wash my hands, one commented "good thing she doesn't speak Spanish". Let's just say they were a bit embarrassed once I let them know that I understood Spanish perfectly...though I made no comments on the juicy gossip they were sharing. hehehe.

An interesting complaint that came from the majority of my fellow researchers was the lack of social connections. Many said they felt a disconnect to the community in terms of making friends (especially with their peers in the nations they worked.) I surprised them when I told them how many friends I had in Puno and how wonderful my social circuit was...especially in such a small city. Truly, as a researcher in a foreign country, the sense of being homesick or feeling lonely is hard to avoid. I don't know how I would have survived the past 9 months without my "mancha" (group) of friends in Puno city.

Now, still pasty white, and back in my winter jacket and shoes, I am in Puno for my last month of research. So, of course, there will be an abundance of stories to share in the next weeks.......

Sorry...I don't work for the CIA

2007-03-27T11:44:00.000-07:00

Before I left for Puno, Peru, my professors at American University advised me on maintaining the confidentiality of my study's participants. They commented of the possibility of members of the Peruvian government and perhaps the U.S. Embassy taking interest in what I was doing and/or in the populations involved in my research. I listened intently and have taken the necessary steps to cover the identity of my participants and their communities, but I definitely did not think I would have any exciting run-ins with high officials. Then again, come on, if you know anything about my adventures to date, you wouldn't put it past me to have something like that happen, right?

well ...

In November, I traveled to Lima for a Fulbright Conference and a fantastic Thanksgiving turkey dinner with members of the U.S. Embassy and the Fulbright Commission. During my visit, I also took advantage building contacts in different NGOs and institutions. One of my main concerns at the time was finding out more about the conditions of contraband and how it is impacting the communities where I am working.

As I have mentioned before, is that the contraband, or informal market are a simple reality of life in much of Latin America, and most prominently in the more impoverished regions. My communities are highly involved in the contraband activity. Of course, they depend on the majority of their purchases from the contraband because they see it as the only viable, economic option available. If you were to ask them whether they felt right about purchasing illegal products, they would either change the wording to the more "economic choice" or claim that without the dried foods (mainly rice and pasta) that come from Chile, Brazil, and Bolivia they would die of hunger. Most national products are either too expensive or too difficult to receive in the marginalized peasant communities.

Now, the two districts where I am working share borders with the nation of Bolivia. The majority of the population is highly involved in the transportation of the products from the border to Puno, Juliaca, and even as far as other departments like Tacna, Arequipa, and Lima! Trucks upons trucks of contraband are shipped across these regions daily (mainly after dusk) and are taken to markets throughout the country. You can get almost anything you can think of at these markets. Just ask my brother, Matt, or Father Reker! When they visited me in Cuzco/Puno, I made sure that they saw what was available to the population. From Ipods to Corn Flakes, leather jackets to microwaves, you name it and it can be purchased in the contraband.

Somethings are not even available outside the contraband markets because of the high quantity of supply available below market price. For example, there are no movie theaters in Puno, Peru. Why? Simply because you can get any movie the day it comes out in theaters on pirated DVDs for less than $1. If I want a movie, I can't buy or even rent legally. In Puno, I must go to the contraband to get pirated DVDs.

So, my intention in November had been to find out more firm, quantitative data on the contraband industry in Puno. Unfortunately, I have found that there really lacks data on the contraband activity. The only national entity with relative base of knowledge and interest in this arena is that of the SUNAT-the national customs office.

Miracle of all miracles, working my contacts in the Catholic University in Lima as well as with NGOs in Puno and Lima, I ended up getting the email address of the top legal adviser to the customs office in Peru! Even better news was that he said he would be in Puno in a few weeks and would be happy to meet with me!!! Okay, well at the time I thought it was great news....

So, we arranged to meet in Mojsa, Enrique's restaurant, for lunch. As we began to chat, I sat anxiously, with notebook and pen in hand, awaiting to learn all about the custom's take on contraband. What did I end up learning_ Well, that the he was a 40-something divorcee, with two children and VERY single. He went on talking about his personal life through most of the meal. He offered to help me out anyway possible if I were in Lima anytime soon. At the end of the meal he even had the nerve to ask me about my social status:

Dr. Gross-me-out: "So, are you single?" (In Spanish this refers to your status as either single or married)
Me: "Um, yes"
Dr.: "And do you have a boyfriend?"
Me: "Yes." (Total lie, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do)
Dr.: "Oh [disappointed sigh], and is he Peruvian or back in America?"
Me: "Oh, no he's Peruvian, here in Puno"
Dr.: "Oh, well like I was saying, call me whenever you want if you need anything blah, blah, blah"

Ick. Well, the little useful information that he did provide me did not do very much for what I was looking for. But, I found it very interesting that he had been the fiscal of Puno, and had been responsible for the capture of the head of the culebra - the top contraband directive. Trying to sound like a cocky Jack Ryan, he tried to make himself out as some national superhero who could not continue fighting evil because his life were in danger in the region of Moho. I rolled my eyes thinking that his ego was the biggest character flaw.

It was very evident (a note that I kept in the back of my head) that he had interest in my work in the region of Moho. I was not surprised, therefore, when he contacted me a week ago. He was in Puno and wanted to chat with me. Knowing that his insight would be of assistance to me (especially now that I lost my contact in Lima when the CND was closed), I wanted to make my meeting with him short and concise. And more than anything, I wanted to put an end to the flirtation and any icky, gross hopes that he had for a gringa girlfriend (ewww, ick, gross, yuck.)

So........................

We planned to meet again in Mojsa, but this time I had a strategy prepared for the encounter. Immediately (I mean the guy didn't even try to small talk me) he asks how the social situation is in Moho. "What do you mean?" I ask innocently. He extends his question to ask how are the living conditions, what is the attitude of the population, and then BAM....what's the condition of contraband. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. He wants me to be his informant.

I made it clear in my response, that I was not going to rat out any contrabandists or even tell him where I had been and with whom I had been working. He tried to get me to reveal more, returning to his super duper hero role, stating that the customs office was planning to run a full-out operative against the contrabandists in Moho.

Very firmly, I took this opportunity to voice my opinion. I warned him that they should not be surprise to receive a harsh reaciton from the community, even those who are not involved in the contraband trade. He shot back at me that the contrabandists were obviously seen as heros in this area.

"No," I commented, "I don't think they are seen that way. In these regions of Puno, the state is not present and most of the population only looks at contraband as the little left for them. The infrastructure is so horrible that there is no true option for economic development beyond auto-consumption of farming production. If the state were more pro-active in assisting the infrastructural needs, or even basic needs like potable water, sewage, and electricity, the population of Moho may not react as harshly to the intentions of customs."

Now, enter Enrique...hahaha, strategy part 2 to make sure things are clear as crystal with Dr. Gross-me-out. As we are chatting, Enrique comes up from the kitchen and greets me as "his love" and gives me a big kiss on the lips. According to the waitresses who were watching our melo-drama unfold, the Doc didn't look too happy.

"Ah, let me present my boyfriend..." I began to say.
"Samuel, nice to meet you." And with a firm handshake so came to an effective end the flirtations. I think the mix of his dissapointment in neither gaining my insight nor winning my heart provoked him to urgently have to leave. We said goodbye, because as he said, we probably would not see each other again before I leave for the United States. He promised ot send me more information the following week, but I don't plan to hear from him again.

My friends, who work in Mojsa, overheard the conversation, and actually applauded me after he left. There is a lot of hatred towards the very corrupt and considerably ineffective customs system. I myself, and my family, are victims of it...how much extra did we pay for having two used shirts shipped in the mail? They commented that he was obnoxious and totally out of touch with the reality which the population in Puno faces.

Punishment in a community of extreme poverty

2007-03-16T13:31:00.000-07:00

After conversations with my mother, I realize that a younger audience sometimes reads my blog. I ask you to please self-sensor because of some graphic content. I still plan to post because I truly feel it is important to share the realities of the culture in which I am working: the beautiful, the comical, and the painful. We all must consider how others interact in order to move towards developing cultures of non-violent conflict resolution. I hope that after reading this entry, you do no think less of the Aymara culture, but instead understand that as societies evolve and change, each will have struggles to overcome. I am grateful for having witnessed this event today and it only furthers my determination for my next steps in the years to come....

"The darkenss is a bit frightening, don't you think?" asked my host, Raul, in the high community (above 14,000 ft) in the province of Moho.

"Very much so," I replied. My solemn response, was less in reference to Raul's accounts of the dangerous night creatures, than to the screams of the children that echoed in the black sky.

Raul's neighbor was extremely upset upon seeing that her children (ages 11, 6, and 2) were unattentive to the family's three pigs and allowed them to graze too close to the house. As a result, the pigs enjoyed a feast of potatoes.

I would like to side-note here that potatoes and I will not be seeing much of each other upon my return to the US. In the past 6 months I have consumed more potatoes than in my whole 24 years of existence. Today alone, I had a breakfast of potato and grain soup, and a lunch of potato soup with a main dish of potatoes and rice. Dinner, I opted for a powerbar...THANKS Matt!)

As a result of the potato loss, Raul's neighbor chased the pigs away hysterically with a handfull of rocks. And next came the punishment for the children "being lazy and disrespectful". While I was not an eye witness to the actions, the screams of pain from the children were enough to make my stomach turn. I asked Raul what the punishment involved. Whipping, he told me, was the typical way of handling their children. When I asked where they were whipped he did not respond. Seeing as everyone here wears multiple layers of sweaters and pants, I would certainly not see the marks on their bodies. My hope was also that the clothing somewhat buffered the pain.

The screams continued for roughly a minute. as we were sitting outisde the house, I took notice that during the course of events, Raul's two children (ages 10 and 12) distanced themselves physically from their parents. They moved to the opposite side of the stree, their faces drawn cold of emotion.

After a few moments, I broke my own silence. In general, I am not an advocate of cultural comparison. I frown greatly upon the "well, in my country we do it this way" statements. I find them to be culturally imperialistic and ethnocentric. Moreover, I believe in the need for cultural adaptation to different values, relationships, and means of communication.

"In my country, it is illegal to raise a hand to your child," I quietly commented. "It is considered child abuse."

"Oh. And so how do parents punish their children?" Raul asked.

"Typically, they will take away privledges like watching TV or using the computer."

"Ah, well we don't have TVs here," Raul responded. Of course they aren't TVs, they do not even have electricity or running water. And the bathroom situation...I will spare you all those details.

Trying not to be left without a more productive alternative, I said "sometimes kids are not allowed to go out and play with their friends, or are given more chores as responsibilities."

"Ah, that must work," Raul commented.

"Yes, it is extremely effective," I replied.

The cries from next door faded as other screams grew down the street. Another child receiving another whipping. "It's getting dark, would you like a candle for your room?" Raul inquired.

"No thank you, I brought one with me." I headed to my room, accompanied by his two children so that I could give them a gift of chocolate nutritional mix for their morning milk and said goodnight. As prepared for bed, I was hapyp to hear Raul and his children giggling in the room below as they played games.

What a month

2007-02-23T06:50:00.000-08:00

February is almost over....phew! It has been a crazy whirlwind of events, travels, and fun! Let me just give a quick overview of what has been happening in the last month.

My work in Kelluyo has been a bit frustrating, but I was able to accomplish another focus group meeting. While the participants were not united at the time I arrived, they quickly gathered...just as quickly as the approaching storm. Unfortunately we were not in a community with a gathering locale, and therefore had to have the meeting outside. I was concerned about the sound of the wind in my tape recorder not to mention the rain. It was a pretty comical sight as we all huddled under the small roof overhang and I held a plastic bag strategically over my notebook and tape recorder. And of course, the good news/bad news of the meeting. Good...no, GREAT news: all present were highly active, making lots of comments and getting very involved in the whole discussion. Bad news: the entire hour focus group was conducted in Aymara...so now I am seeking someone to transcribe the Aymara, to translate it to Spanish so that I can than translate it to English. It's definitely a price to pay, but I don't mind because of how well the meeting went.

After packing my bags from Juli (though I will most likely be returning within the next few weeks for attempt number 3), I got back to Puno just in time for the Candelaria festival. One word: INSANE. Now, I truly have an appreciation for why Puno is considered the folklore capital of Latin America. The music was contagious, the costumes were beautiful, the dancing was breathtaking...I loved it.

And yes, I too took part in the festival, dancing in the Mañazo neighborhood "Sicuris" group. What I did not realize until a few days before the event was that I had submitted myself into the craziest, most liberal group in the city. Of the 70 groups that danced (some with up to 200 dancers and 50 band members) Sicuris Mañazo is the oldest, most traditional group. The first day I attended a dance practice I had to be careful where I was stepping in the group's locale. Turns out earlier that day they had sacrificed a bull to offer a payment to the Pachamama, Mother Earth diety, and there were still blood stains on the floor.

The practice was not really productive as most of the musicians had already drank the day away, but I learned the basic steps. Basically step 1 is do whatever you want. With so many years under their belt, I guess they don't really care much about uniformity. While the other groups organized and performed highly choreographed dances, my group kind of formed a circle in the arena. It rocked.

My costume.... um, it was interesting. I do have pictures, but I will share them at a later date. Basically this was my outfit: A large cape and ornate chest board thingy, a very uncomfortable helmet with a ridiculously red wig, some very interesting boots (think Pretty Woman before she meets Richard Gere), and a piece of fabric that was supposedly considered a skirt. I rented the outfit, but the boots are all mine!

Oh, and as it turns out, being a foreigner in the Candelaria makes you VERY popular. EVERYONE wanted a photo with the gringa. I was interviewed by a Lima TV station and 5 radio stations. If you want to check out some of the dancing from the festival check out my friend's postings on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWkeEcy84_A

After dancing about 15 blocks, my group decided to take a drinking break, and I found it a good time to break from the pack. I quickly returned to my gringa clothes, and jumped on a bus for 8 hours overnight to Cuzco. Arriving dazed and confused at 4am, I waited for the 7:15 LAN flight to arrive from Lima, bringing Matt Wiggins to the land of Peru!

Poor kid, shows up after traveling 15 hours more or less and I throw him back on a bus for another 8 hours to arrive in Puno at 3pm to see the Candelaria. We spent the week hanging out with my friends, visiting the island communities in Lake Titicaca, throwing a very successful gringo party, and then heading back on a train to Cuzco.

We smashed three tours into one day with the help of my friend Carlos, traveling throughout the Sacred Valley. Once we arrived to Machupicchu we climbed one mountain (Putucusi) in two hours and then Waynapicchu the next morning in a record 25 minutes! After 10 crazy fun days, Matt was back on a plane to gringolandia, and I have returned to Puno.

PHEW......................................................so, it's February 23rd. The crazy times are sure to continue :)

Not the greatest month for a researcher

2007-01-31T08:23:00.000-08:00

Frustrating is the word of the month. Okay, I will admit that I am rather OCD with my scheduling and time management. In college, I was that girl who had her schedule down to the hour:
8am-wake up and eat breakfast
9am- run for 30 minutes
10am-shower and study for macro test....
I actually had a boyfriend who once got mad at me for scheduling him into my day. Whoops.

Anyways, I had planned to use the month of January to complete my activities in the district of Kelluyo. I assumed that four weeks would be enough time to get everything done. The goal was to get an interview with the provincial and district mayors, complete focus groups in at least four communities, and not get incredibly sick from the ridiculous amounts of potato that would await me.

Instead, I have only accomplished interview and focus group work in one community. The provincial mayor continues to be a pain in the you-know-where (this is roughly effort number four to get in touch with him...he is currently in Lima for who knows what reason). I haven't been able to coordinate with the district mayor, but hope to as I am planning on returning to Kelluyo for community visit number two next week. Oh, and the upside...I have only had one occasion of being fed too much food...quinoa with fried eggs. Imagine eating a soccer ball amount of oatmeal. Yeah, not fun. I lucked out because, since I was consuming the massive ball so slowly, I was not offered a second helping like my companions. Shucks. Oh, and I thank my parents at this moment for the extra stomachs medications they brought during their trip.

The other MAJOR bummer of the month occurred at the national level thanks to President Alan Garcia. He has decided to close the National Council on Decentralization (CND). When I was informed of this my mouth dropped....literally. The problem for me is that the entire purpose of my work here is to share with the national leadership in the CND the perspectives of the local participants in the rural region. More importantly, the rural peasants are expecting this from me. My contact in the council has resigned, and I am waiting for the political dust to settle to figure out how to approach the new authorities on decentralization. An additional trip to Lima may be awaiting me...*sigh*....

Oh, and things are additionally held at a standstill after tomorrow evening as the festival of the Virgen of the Candelaria is about to begin. The insanity that is about to come will be shared in future entries...but if you want a sneak peak of the craziness about to explode in Puno, Peru check this website:
http://www.geocities.com/img04fes/page_02.htm

The Aymara Emperor of Latin America's Little Rome

2007-01-26T12:09:00.000-08:00

Initially, I was frustrated, assuming that I couldn't get an interview because I am an outsider to the community and culture. As it turns out, I find myself in a quite common predicament. I was about ready to pass off my struggle as a case of cultural misunderstanding...or perhaps an effort that was considered unimportant...

From the looks of things, it is more of a case of an evading top political player: the provincial mayor of Juli, Pap Lindo.

Last Sunday, I returned from a weekend break in Puno to travel with Nico out to the district of Kelluyo. As we road on the bumpy "highway", he recounted his frustrating attempts to meet with Papa Lindo. Let's note that his intended session with the provincial mayor was a tad more important than mine. Apart from his role as the Director of the Institute on Rural Education, Nico is the President of the Mesa de Concertación. It is hard to give a direct translatoin, but basically the Mesa is an effort of different members of civil society working in collaboration to address local social problems (poverty, education, development) as well as work with the municipality. This typically includes acting as mediator between communities or organizations that are at odds with the mayor.

Having never participated in the meetings or activities coordinated by the Mesa, the newly elected mayor, Papa Lindo, lacks a relationship with the civil society body. From the looks of it, he wants to keep it that way. I was completely shocked as Nico recounted his efforts the day before in attempts to track down the mayor. The mayor might as well have just convicted a crime by his behavior.

They had set to meet at the mayor's home on Saturday morning. Nico arrived, surprised to find that the mayor was not present. His son contacted his Papa (haha) by cell and informed Nico that he was in a meeting at the home of one of his advisors. Once Nico reached the location, the son of the advisor came out of the house to let Nico know that no one was present. At the same moment, Nico noticed that the curtains on the second floor had abruptly been shut. The advisor's son told Nico that the mayor was in the municipality's truck and sent Nico on a bit of a wild goose chase for the rest of the morning. Nico resigned in his effort for the day...not pleased.

But this is not the end of the interesting...and quite unadmirable actions by the Mayor Papa Lindo to date:
-Last Sunday, at the weekly flag ceremony, he refused to remove his hat. For quite a patriotic community, that sent out lots of angry cries from the public as well as attacks by the radio station for the rest of the week.
-The Sunday, the mayor himself confronted merchants in the market and demanded that they pay their debts or else he would throw them out of the market building. Believe it or not, a merchant actually slapped Papa Lindo in the face. And, rumor has it, one of the other merchants threw his hat into a fresh pile of cow dung.

Hopefully the slap to the head has knocked some sense into Papa Lindo...or maybe knocked him off his high horse. A mayor from a small peasant town, with a high school education (I think), advisors also lacking more than primary or secondary school education (except his director of management who resigned yesterday, a mere 20 days into office), Papa Lindo has little to no experience running a budget and has made his first priority redesigning his own home with the new salary he has gained.

He is doing a fabulous job of putting himself directly between a rock and a hard place. Unless he opens up to the local civil society, becomes less of an ideologue and more of a municipal manager, and respects the rights for citizen participation...I give him 3 months before they kick him out of office.

Where in the world is the Lt. Governor?!?!?!

2007-01-15T08:20:00.000-08:00

"Are you pinching?" the drunkard spat in my face as he pushed a bag of coca towards me. Trying to ignore the disgusting mix of pure alcohol and coca chew that had just come flying my way, I did not respond as recommended by my traveling companion.

"Where are you from [unintelligible mumbling of Aymara] you Swiss or Japanese?" It was obvious that we were not going to shake him and the multiple policemen walking around the plaza were no help at all. We jumped back into Nico's truck and drove around to the other side of the plaza to wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.

Nico, the director of The Rural Institute on Education of Juli, Chucuito, picked me up from the farm at about 8am. I had just finished breakfast, and while I wasn't really hungry it was a wise choice. It was the last time I ate until 9pm. We were headed to the district capital of Kelluyo to meet with the mayor and the local leadership of one of the communities. The trip out took a while because Nico needed to make an additional stop in his brother's house which really can only be described as located in the middle of nowhere. I know, I am practically working in the middle of nowhere...so I guess we could say his brother lived in the middle of absolutely nowhere!

Riding on the backroads of rural Puno, I got to witness the power of the truck. I felt like I was in one of those commercials for Ford pickup trucks when they somehow climb over rocks and timber, splashing through huge puddles and whatever possible obstacle one can ever imagine in the way. Thank goodness Nico's truck had seatbelts. It was fun for the first half of the trip, but during our return to Puno at about 4pm, I was praying for pavement. I mentioned that the first time I ate all day was 9pm, right? Yeah, that was also the first time I had a chance to relieve my bladder.

So, around 11am we arrive in the plaza of Kelluyo to find that the national and district flags (weekly tradition which congregates the entire community) had already been raised. The mayor was currently in a meeting with the district's lieutenant governors discussing his plans for developing the new participatory budget for the year 2007. This is a major concern of my research. In Kelluyo, over the past 4 years the district has been through 4 mayors. None of the oustings proved violent, but tensions did rise and come close to outward conflict. Previous leadership failed to involve the community through the mechanism of the participatory budget and there was a lot of mishandling of provincial and district funding.

One of the mayor's regidores or top advisor/assistant asked us to wait until the meeting ended "in an hour" to request an interview with the mayor. Let me just clarify that "in an hour" in Peru equates to "in at least 2 or 3 hours". So here we were, waiting in Nico's truck, avoiding the drunkard and staying dry from a major downpour. Once the rain let up, some of the institute's students starting approaching the truck. I felt a bit more upbeat as a few of them recognized me from the leadership workshop in early December. Scratch that...I should say that I recognized them. Seriously, having super pale skin, blue eyes, being freakish tall and wearing pants kind of gave me away at the bat of an eye. After chatting for an hour, we watched the 30 plus lt. governors march back to their office. Finally, it was our turn to meet with the mayor.

Five minutes tops. We introduced ourselves to the new mayor, Nico described the agenda he needed to address with the mayor for continuing projects into 2007, and I was able to present my project and request an interview. Great! Wonderful! I got the second interview in the region I need. Now, all I have to do is wait another week and a half.

*Sigh*- Trying not to waste the trip, we decided to try to coordinate with the community lt. governor about visiting his community so I could conduct my focus groups with members in the area. The question was, where in the world was the Lt. Governor!?!?!? We had just seen 30 plus walk through the plaza. They were dressed identically: all wore black with a silver baton connected to a colorful strap, and black hats. In Nico's truck we stopped next to each leader asking if they were from community X (I am not able to name the community as it is part of my research and must maintain anonymity of the proyect's participants). After asking about 8 males leaders, we found out we were looking for a female lt. governor.

This made our search a bit easier as there are very few female leaders, and most of them head to the market after the meeting. Once we found her, I saw another challenge awaiting me. She doesn't speak much Spanish. Luckily, I had Nico to translate for me, but once I conduct the interview with her, I am going to have to translate from Aymara to Spanish to English...as well as transcribe the interview which takes five hours to write one hour of speech (and that's just in English!) Again, I was happy to receive the thumbs up from the Lt. Governor to visit her community, but again I would have to wait until next Sunday.

So, here I am in Puno once again because I have to wait a week to organize with the leadership to enter the community. Being a punctual, time-oriented person, I am a tad frustrated that I have lost a week in my research. Hopefully things will go well over the next week's visit, and I will avoid the Sunday drunk to the best of my ability!

The odd couple

2007-01-12T07:25:00.000-08:00

What do you get when you mix an inexperienced, radical leftist Aymara mayor with an extremely conservative, Opus Die Bishop? I am not quite sure yet, but my guess is that its not going to blend well.

I have returned to the provincial capital of Juli in Chucuito, a province about two hours east of the city of Puno. Currently, I am living on a farming complex called Fondo Palermo. It is the center for the Institute on Rural Education, a service of the Prelature of Juli. The members of the institute support rural development by working with the region's Aymara peasants in training to improved skills and knowledge of farming, leadership, solar power, nutrition, literacy, microfinanzing, human rights, etc. Their farm also serves to host visiting researchers (like moi) and help facilitate connections in the rural areas of the province.

My housing situation is rather comfortable, considering where I am located. I am treated to a private room, equipped with a bed, two tables, a gas stove, and a private bathroom with a solar powered shower. Unfortunately, there is not a lot of sun during this month, so I am not sure how much I will get to enjoy solar power energy.

An interesting sidenote...the previous occupant of the room was a Japanese archeologist. He was certain that the farm rested on top of an archeological goldmine. The institute's staff thought he was crazy. I hope they don't think the same of me!!!!!!!!

I share the farm grounds with cows, guinea pigs, sheep, and a couple of dogs. Oh, and the institute also provides lunch daily. I am treated to a health portion of potatoes, chuño, and soup whenever I wish. Otherwise, I have crackers and oranges in my room. Diet a-la countryside.

This week I will begin my focus group and interview work in the rural community of Kelluyo, about 2 hours southeast of the town of Juli. My first outing is scheduled for Sunday. Of course, I will have fun stories to share after that date!

An interesting observation that I alluded to at the beginning of this entry concerns the interesting dynamic of political power that is setting in for the province of Chucuito. Earlier this year, a new bishop was ordained to lead the Prelature of Juli. He is a member of Opus Die and has already demonstrated great conviction to change the face of the Church in the region. Over the past 25 years, a very liberal and culturally-conscientious group of priests and sisters, under the guidance of the former bishop, improved the relationship between the peasant Aymara community and the Church. Notably, it was the previous bishop who played a huge role in the attempted negotiation processes in Ilave before, during and after the lynching of the mayor.

I am willing to put GOOD money on the efforts taking a complete 180 in the next years. The new bishop has stated that the role of the Church is to provide the faith, not social services to the population. He has also ordered his priests to refrain from saying the mass in Aymara as he has called it a "pagan language". Sadly, this is a region with minimal NGO and governmental presence to support depressed conditions of health, education, and development needs. The expanse of services provided by the Church, including my host foundation, The Institute on Aymara Studies, as well as the Institute on Rural Education, may soon find themselves without funding and simply go under leaving a vaccum of support in the region.

As if that was not enough, enter the new mayor of Juli, Eugenio Barbaito Constanza of the Andean Rebirth Party is going to make things pretty interesting. He is an extremist Aymara leader with very little political experience, but a strong sense of cultural ideology. I met with him briefly during his first week on the job, and will have an interview with him this coming Wednesday. He dislikes speaking in Spanish, but I believe he will make an exception with me.

I have a feeling that the mayor and bishop are going to mix like oil and water...it's going to be REALLY interesting!

Live and learn...and via Villazón never return

2007-01-07T09:52:00.000-08:00

I am finally back in Puno, Peru! This weekend I have been able to relax, recollect and reorganize myself in preparation for the first long stay in one of my communities in the province of Chucuito. When I returned on Friday afternoon, my friends Kike and Gerson surprised me with a very fancy welcome back lunch...it's nice having friends who know how to cook!

Let's just say that I learned a lot on my trip through Bolivia. The primary lesson was that I am not going to do that again. The bus ride was rather unpleasant: 20 hours in seats that hardly reclined on a bumpy dirt road and without a bathroom. After three hours one Argentine went nutzo after asking when we were stopping to use the restroom. In Villazón we had been promised a stop over to eat and use the bathroom three hours into the trip. When the driver said it would be another three hours, well, let's just say the Argentine did not take it very well. And thank GOD she flipped out. The bus promptly pulled over on the side of the road (in the middle of nowhere) and, aided only by the full moon, ALL the girls went to the left side of the bus and all the guys to the right side. Once we did reach "rest stops"everyone on board agreed it would be better to fast than chance eating. So, over the trip, I had 4 pieces of bread and a bottle of water.

Luckily, I met some very nice Argentines who shared their mate with me. In exhange, I played tour agent, offering ideas for excursions, housing, and food in La Paz, Cuzco, and Puno. Seriously, I should start charging for my services!

We FINALLY arrived to La Paz. I grabbed a cab to the hotel where a group of American Univeristy students were staying with the University Chaplain Joe Eldridge. I met up with them for dinner, explaining a bit about my project in Puno and answering questions they had about the region. The group had just arrived and was still recovering from the altitude adjustment, but seemed to be pretty excited about the activities that awaited them during the week. They are a lucky bunch. I, too, traveled with Joe Eldridge two years ago in La Paz. It was one of the most exciting and memorable trips of my life and definitely set me up for where I am now.

After an expectedly chaotic border crossing on market day in Desaguaderos, I returned to my Peruvian family and friends in Puno. While it was nice to get away, I must say that I am thrilled to be back here again!

Stuck in Southern Bolivia :/

2007-01-03T07:32:00.000-08:00

Hola from the southern most point of Bolivia. I just crossed the border from Argentina...as quickly as possible! As I was having breakfast this morning, some very loud bombs sounded in the streets. The hostel waitress came into the dining hall to inform the travelers that there would be a blockade of the border within the next hour. I did not really catch what the protesters were marching against, but I assume it had something to do with access to a product coming from Bolivia. Anyways, I wasn't going to wait around to find out. I gulped down my coffee, packed my bags, and sped my way to the Argentina-Bolivia border. Luckily, I got through without any problems and suffered the typical delays of Latin America border crossings.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of my headaches for the day.

The best service for traveling from Argentina to La Paz is by train from Villazón to Oruro and then by bus for 2hours to La Paz. Unfortunately, I will not be traveling on the choo-choo. Because the summer vacaction in Argentina has just begun, every Argentina and his mother are visiting Bolivia. The train is packed through tomorrow.

Seeing as I just want to get back to Puno, my only option left is via bus. So, I will be leaving this evening around 6pm and arriving in La Paz tomorrow morning around 11am. Not surprisingly, I do not look forward to a 17 hour trip and I am not quite sure what kind of service I will have for the $20 US dollars, but I was promised semi-bed seat and AC.

I was looking forward to taking the first-class option on the train. I have basically traveled by bus since I arrived in Buenos Aires on the 20th: Buenos Aires to Cordoba (8hrs), Cordoba to Santiago del Estero (5hrs), Santiago del Estero to Jujuy (7hrs), Jujuy to La Quiaca (6hrs). Oh well, it will be a cool experience seeing the countryside of southern Bolivia. And right now any temperature is nice as long as it is not the 110 degrees of Santiago del Estero. Pablo and Laura's wedding was amazing and I had a great time...as long as I was protected by AC.

Blah, traveling is exhausting. I had a great time in Argentina but I really can't wait to be back in Puno. Tomorrow I will hopefully meet up with Prof Joe Eldridge and the AU students in La Paz.

Merry Christmas...now can you please turn up the AC!?!?

2006-12-25T13:02:00.000-08:00

"It's just like in the movies," noted Maria Marta's mom, "in the morning, they run to the Christmas tree to see what presents Santa has left for them!" She was explaining to the dinner party about all the knowledge that somehow telepathically reached her from my experience of Christmas over the past 22 years. We were sitting in the air conditioned home of Maria Marta's uncle, waiting for the clock to strike midnight on Christmas Eve. Over the past couple days, I did not really even have a chance to get a word in as Mrs. Pedrotti has ever so rightfully been nicknamed "the radio".

As we sat in the patio, avoiding the 100º weather outside (okay, by midnight it had dropped to about 95º) we held our strawberry champagne in anticipation for the clock to strike. Scratch that....in anticipation for the sky to fall. After 12:00 am on December 25th, everyone and his or her mother shoot off fireworks throughout the city. It was one of the most intense firework displays I have ever seen! I did not actually know where to look as it was a 360 degree experience. Also, huge paper lanterns are let off into the sky and rise until either the oil of the lamp burns out or the entire lantern self-engulfs in flames. The show was, well, loud and colorful, but did not last more than 25 minutes as a huge thunderstorm rolled into Carlos Paz, Córdoba.

By 2 am we were having our coffee and getting ready to head back to the house. In Argentina, though, the schedule is a tad different. Lunch is at around 12 or 1 followed by a nap until about 4 or 5 (because really, it's just too damn hot to do anything else). At about 6 comes the hour for tea or coffee and sitting by the pool. Once the sun begins to set around 8 or 9, it's a good time to go out around the town or begin preparing for dinner. Dinner itself does not normally start until after 10. What does this mean for all those young whipper-snappers like me and my Spanish camp friends?

That's right, at 2 am we were off to the house of one of our camp coworkers to have drinks and maybe go out to a bar. The rain dumped on our plans and we decided to stay in a chat. It was wonderful seeing everyone, but by 5 am I was absolutely exhausted. I think I actually fell asleep before my head hit the pillow, only to be woken up at 1 pm on Christmas day in time to head off to the family bbq. My estimates are that they cooked up half a cow and a few sheep for lunch, but it was fantastic!

I will have to admit, as we were toasting at midnight, for a moment I really wanted to be home. This is the first time I have ever been away from my family for Christmas. It is also the first year without my grandma. Luckily, I am surrounded by my secondly family (my coworkers from camp), but I truly miss my family and my friends.

To all my blog readers from Rochester, D.C., and family/friends elsewhere, a Merry Christmas to you all. I love you, I miss you, and I am REALLY JEALOUS that you get to bundle up by the fireplace at night.

WHAT'S NEW BUENOS AIRES?

2006-12-21T11:58:00.000-08:00

"I'm new! I'm gunna say I'm just a little stuck on you...you'll be on me too."

I seriously can't help but sing the songs from Evita as I walk down the streets of Buenos Aires. It's the hardest to avoid doing so as I walk down "Florida, Corrientes, Nueve de Julio...all I want to know" Right, sorry...I will stop that now.

First, I must admit that I committed a sin. During my first 24 hours in the land of cows, I did not eat meat. I did, though, find an amazing sushi restaurant! So, my first meal in Argentina was a Mexican style sushi roll. hehe :)

Over the past two days I have accomplished some great site-seeing. I visited Puerto Madero, La Recoleta, Palermo, El Retiro, La Plaza Mayor, San Telmo and finally made it to Boca. The picture above is from the sector of Boca (also the location of the best soccer team in all of Latin America!) I was really excited to make it to Boca this time around. Three years ago (holy cow I can not believe it has been that long), I avoided making the trip to the colorful corner of the city because Boca Jr. has just won the international cup in Japan against A.C. Milan. It was a little less crazy this visit.

Tonight I am catching a bus and will be on my way to Córdoba, Argentina! I'll be spending my Christmas with my Spanish camp coworkers as well as visiting my professors from my semester abroad in 2003. From there, I will head up to Santiago del Estero for Pablo and Laura's wedding!!!!

Okay, off to enjoy my last hours in the beautiful capital of Argentina: where all men have mullets, all the women are anorexic, and all the children are above average.

2006-12-19T11:21:00.000-08:00

If you were to tell me 6 months ago that my dad and I would be climbing the peak of Waynapicchu (the mountain peak in the picture to the left), I think I would have laughed pretty hard.

Last Tuesday, I waited patiently outside the baggage claim door at the Cuzco Airport. A young, 22 year old, security guard decided to take the time to investigate my entire life story. I continuously looked over his shoulder, while politely responded to his interogation, as tourists exited the sliding doors. Finally, after a full 15 minutes, Security Officer, Alan Garcia (I thought he was joking that his name was the same as the nation's President until he showed me his ID badge) asked for my phone number. *Sigh*...another day of the overly flirtatious men of Cuzco. This time, though, I decided to take advantage of the situation. After passing my number, I asked Mr. Garcia if it would be possible to slip through the gate and wait for my parents in the baggage claim. I am sorry to report that the security conditions in the airport of Cuzco are not very tight.

I did not actually see my parents, as my mother practically tackled me on first sight. They were starting day 2 of 11 in a tour of Peru. With their 11 companions and tour guide, my parents and little brother, David, were treated to an amazing tour of Peru. Unlike most tours which take gringo foreigners to all the markets and ancient ruins, my family opted for an adventure packet that introduced them to the very complex and different realities of Peru. They visited children in a rural community school in the sacred valley, toured through homes and businesses of the poorest squatter town in Lima, and participated in a ritual payment to the earth with coca leaves by a local yatiri (a sort of witch doctor) in Cuzco. Their meals, housing, and events planned by the tour program were spectacular! While I only mooched off of one bus trip from Ollantaytambo to Cuzco, I was truly impressed by the organization and information provided by Raul, their guide.

I am very proud of them for making the trip. They definitely went out of their zone of comfort to try new foods, avoiding getting hit by crazy taxi drivers, and witnessing some harsh realities of third world society. All in all, I think I am allowed to say that they had a blast. We visited Machupicchu together and had time for shopping and a few meals between their programmed activities. My friends, Enrique and Gerson, also came from Puno to meet my parents and brother.

Certainly, I can not speak on their behalf for what they perceived on this trip, but I hope that you get a chance to chat with them and hear about my mom drinking coca tea, my dad accidently ordering five appetizers of calamari, my little brother buying riding combis with my friends and me, and all of us eating in the only gay restaurant in Cuzco.

Mom, Dad and David...thank you for the best Christmas gift ever: sharing a week in Peru with me. I love yous guys.

The garden of the Altiplano or the forgotten side of Peru?

2006-12-09T08:22:00.000-08:00

What a week.

A couple of weeks ago, my friend, Enrique, asked me if I felt it was hard to adapt to Puno. Rather confidently, I told him that I had learned how to adapt and accomodate to the realities that a new culture presented. This week was by far the biggest test of that assertion.

You know in movies when that new kid walks into the school lunchroom for the first time? It's as if time stops, the silence is deafening, and every single eye is penetrating the presence of the newbie. Okay, well that's how I felt almost every second of every day I was traveling in the province of Moho. Let's just say, it's not a touristy hot spot.

The region is located directly north of Lake Titicaca and borders the nation of Bolivia. In order to travel to Moho, one must take a combi from Puno to Juliaca (45minutes) followed by a bus to the provincial capital of Moho (2hours). I arrived with one of the members of the NGO, Jatha-Muhu, at about 8pm on Monday evening. The trip itself is not exhausting, but the roads are definitely not smooth. The regional government has not paved the highway and, because of the massive amounts of contraband trucks that pass each day, the roads are in wretched shape.

No cell phone signal enter the region and there was definitely no TV or internet. I went to bed around 7pm every day because after 3 or 4 hours of reading I was just tired from boredom. I slept in a relatively comfortable bed. Beyond that the housing conditions were...um...interesting. Let me just give you a hint of a sense of the bathroom: imagine a hole in the ground and two footprints in front to mark where to plant your feet. Okay, now crouch and go.

Day 1- The High Region.
In the morning we went to have breakfast in the center of the town. The house which the NGO rents does not have a kitchen and so food must be sought elsewhere. I was hoping for a piece of bread and a banana. They don't eat like that in Moho. Generally, in most parts of rural Puno, when the locals eat they don't skim on the servings. The population might be malnourished, but it's definitely not based on quantity. We walked into the restaurant and I totally lost my appetite. The sign on the door read "Caldo de Cabeza y Patas, Desayuno" direct translation: "Soup of Head and Feet, Breakfast". Crap. The imagine is really not lovely. Basically its a broth with the ENTIRE head of a sheep or baby calf. As I tried to work myself up to come face to face (literally) with my breakfast, the waitor walked up to our table with two plates of rice, french fries, and beef. PHEW. Turns out, you have to request the soup. Granted, I don't really see french fries, rice, and beef as the ideal breakfast, I gladly ate away.

My first trip took me to the provinces most remote (I didn't think I could get any more remote than I already was). I had to hire a car for the astronomical price of 90 soles for an hour drive up into the hills. Sincerely, the experience left me a bit down. The high region is very depressed and considered in extreme poverty. I met with the leadership for about an hour and they were very welcoming. While they want to participate in the project, they were also curious as to how much money I had and how my funding was used. Because I am doing academic research, I am ethically not allowed to give presents or donations to the community. It's really hard to maintain that attitude when you see the destitution in which the community lives. They told me of their frustrations with the district and regional government. "We are forgotten, " commented one of the leaders.

Day 2- The Middle Region
The second day travel took me to a community about a 45 minute walk from the capital of Moho. The leadership of the community are absolutely AWESOME! We had a good conversation and afterwards I asked them if they had any questions for me. They wanted to know how to develop a market for cuy, or hamster consumption in the US. I explained that it would be a bit difficult as, in my country, hamsters are seen as pets and it would not be likely that people would eat them. Once I gave them the comparison that it would be like eating cat or dog for them they started cracking up. They invited me to stay for lunch, and dinner, and....well...basically they did not want me to leave. I graciously accepted lunch, and promised to return in March. "Okay," one of the female leaders told me, "when you come back in March we will eat pet!"

I truly look forward to returning to this community. After spending five hours conversing with the community members (notably this is the first time I have been positively accpeted by the women), I really did not want to leave.

Day 3- The Lake Region
Okay, day 3 was the kicker. I had to travel alone because the NGO member had to return to Puno for a training program. The bus did not have any more seats, and so, stuffed like sardines for 30 minutes, I road to my final community visit. The president of the community was waiting for me when I arrived, and we walked 45 minutes from the highway to the main plaza.

There were 10 plastic chairs sitting in the middle of the plaza, and I was told to sit and wait as "we would be starting soon". After waiting for an hour under the direct sun (yes, my face is currently a nice shade of tomato) I sat next to the mayor and other leadership while the 20 representatives of the sector marched, played wood instruments, and raised the Peruvian flag. The community, bless their hearts, have to be the most patriotic bunch of peasants in the entire nation. Every Thursday (just my luck, the day I arrived) one of the 10 sectors of the community arrives to the population center's plaza to raise the flag and march in a parade. It was really a very pathetic event. Basically, the marchers marched for themselves...just crossing the plaza once with the flag. Don't worry, I videorecorded the whole bit.

Two hours later, we finally went inside the muncipality. I was watching my clock (12pm) as I needed to get to the highway to catch the 2pm bus back to Puno. I was promised that we would start the interview...just after having some fiambres or cold cuts. Okay, so first of all, the food is going to be a MAJOR issue for me. Each woman walked up to the center table and placed her portion of fiambres. In Puno, fiambres do not consist of cold meats and cheese. Dried beans, potatoes, and corn were pilled on the table. The meeting would not start until all the food was gone. Sigh. This was the second day I had to consume this food.

The frustrating part for me is that the community shows affection and hospitality by offering visitors more and more food. Rejecting the offer is like spitting in their faces. So, I tried to peel the beans as slowly as possible, but I could not avoid the lady that kept handing me more potatos and corn. Yes, I was very sick the following day and today I am still recovering a bit. Next time I return to the community, I will have stocks of cereal bars and fruit in my bag and will fib that I am sick in order to avoid a repeat of the past 24 hours.

After another excellent meeting, I was prepared to take off (though it was already 1:30). The president told me not to worry as a car from the community was driving to Juliaca and could give me a ride. Excellent! The president asked me to walk into a room with him, and I though it was just to chat. I was wrong. In walks a woman with a plate of trout and potatoes. Again, crap. The trout was complete with head, eyeballs, and scales. As I picked away at the skin, the other male leadership lunching with me ate everything but the skeleton. I admit, I had to avert my eyes as they chewed away at the trout's head.

Okay, it's 2:15pm and FINALLY I think I am ready to leave. The president informs me that the owner of the jeep and his companions have been drinking beer for the last 3 hours. Better to find an alternative means of travel. I hire a combi to drive me to the highway that connects with the next provincial capital of Huacané. Accompanied by the community mayor, president, and the driver's three boys, we make it to through the bumpy trek to the highway. There, the mayor assures me that there will be a combi passing by. Twenty minutes later, and five rejections of combis and even two contraband trucks, the leaders flag down a motorcycle. The biker agrees to take me as far as the bus stop to Puno in Huancané. That's right, folks, I am the new Che Guevara! I road on the back of the motorcycle for a half hour simply laughing to myself about how ridiculous my day had been. An hour combi ride to Juliaca followed by another hour combi ride to Puno, I finally arrived home sweet home.

I showered for the first time in five days and got to actually sit on a toilet. March is going to be REALLY interesting.

And so begins the process....

2006-12-01T13:19:00.000-08:00

Below is a map of the department of Puno. Most tourists are only presented with the province of Puno. It is in this region where the city of Puno is located as well as the island communities of Amantani, Taquile and the floating islands of the Uros. Outside of this area, in the provinces of Moho, Huancane, Collao, Chucuito, and Yunguyo, the majority of the population is Aymara. In the rest of the provinces, the majority of are Quechua. So things are set! I officially have communities picked out for my research over the months of January and March. Today I met with the first group of leadership from the peasant communities within the province of Chucuito. The Institute on Rural Education has graciously given me the opportunity today to participate in a workshop for the authorities of the district of Kelluyo. I was able to present my project and get initial feedback from them regarding the conditions of health, education, and development. There have been a lot of frustration in the district because of the failure of the mayor to meet the needs of the community because of a major lack of transparency and accountability. Over the past 4 years the district has gone through 4 mayors! Luckily, the situation never became violent, but came close. There was a major sense of desperation in the leaders for access to information and knowledge about their rights in relationship to the elected power. Hopefully I will be able to help them understand what their rights and responsibilities are in relation to those of the local elected leadership.

So, during the month of January, I will live on the farm of the institute, also known as Fondo Palermo. It is located about a mile and a half away from the provincial capital of Juli in the province of Chucuito. They've got their own cows that produce all the cheese and milk needed for those who live on site. Lunch is served every day...and I will be assured a hearty helping of potatoes and soup every day.

The district of Kelluyo is farther away (about 2 hours) and I will travel there during the month with the help of the institute. As part of my research, I have promised anonymity to the participants and their communities. Therefore, I am unable to share with my blog readers the name of the communities where I will be working.

Next week, I am headed up to Moho, north of Lake Titicaca to meet leadership in 3 other communities. This region is a bit more isolated, but has a greater level of contraband shipment coming in from the Bolivian border.

Of the 6 communities I will visit, 3 are considered in conditions of extreme poverty whereas the others are considered impoverished. I still have to see what factors are presented for this level of poverty.

Comunidades Campesinas...here I come!

2006-11-30T05:25:00.000-08:00

And so begins the whirlwind of my travels through the rural peasant communities of Puno. I have just arrived in Juli, the capital of the province of Chucuito. Located an hour from the border of Bolivia, Chucuito is one of the larger Aymara provinces in the department of Puno. The town of Juli is known as the little Rome of Latin America because of its picturesque cathedrals.

I left Puno this morning at 6:45 am and arrived in Juli at 8am, a bit earlier than expected thanks to a very fast combi ride. This morning I will have meetings with the leader of a missionary group of the Catholic Church as well as the director of the Institute on Rural Education. The goal for the next two to three days is to visit some communities and meet with local authorities. After the New Year, I will live in the region for a longer period of time to complete my work with interviewing local and municipal leadership as well as holding community focus groups.

Surely, there will be fun stories to share over this week...

a breath of fresh, contaminated air

2006-11-25T04:49:00.000-08:00

"So is this what a bar in Puno is like?" The other Fulbright researchers from the provinces just laughed. Where or how to start to describe the differences? Alex, who probably dropped the fact that he went to Yale in every conversation he had during the week, was curious about what life was like outside the city of Lima. Most of the Fulbrighters agreed that he had not adapted very well to Peru living. The funny thing is that the idea of cultural adaptation is so relative. His complaints and frustrations of Lima seemed so trivial when I thought about the living conditions, politics, and conflicts I witnessed in Puno. Moreover, for all his negative commentary, he hardly had anything positive or good to say about his experience. I pittied him for not enjoying the past three months. Of course, we have all seen the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful in our respective regions in Peru. I get the sense, though, that the students who stayed in Lima were not as fulfilled or happy as those who lived in smaller communities throughout the country.

It was quite amazing, actually, how very little the Limeñan Fulbrights knew about the lifestyle outside of the capital. Don't get me wrong, the city of Lima is a totally different world, in comparison to the United States. But, it's really a buffer in terms of cultural differences for a foreigner. As we sat in the bar named Sergeant Peppers (or Sargento Pimienta) in the upper class district of Barranco, I looked at the clientel that surrounded me. To be honest, I felt like I was one among a multitude of tourists. Unlike in Puno, I wasn't the only light-skinned, blue-eyed youth in the room. We were definitely in a pituco bar. The term refers to the rich population of the capital city. Often, people from the provinces refer to the Limeñans, in general, as pitucos, though it primarily defines the population that live in the city's districts of Miraflores, La Molina, Sucro, Barranco, and a few others. For the first time in three months I felt underdressed....no, under-fashionable in a bar scene.

The week has been a refreshing break from Puno. On Monday and Tuesday, I had meetings with the top advisor of the National Council on Decentralization and worked at the library in the Catholic University of Peru. Wednesday was spent in a researcher's workshop to present our projects and get feedback from Peruvian scholars. Friday, I traveled to the US Embassy to have pages added to my passport (yup, I have travelled that much) and had a turkey feast with Embassy staff and Fulbrights. In between, I did some shopping, walked around the city, and got a much needed hair cut. All in all, a worthwhile trip.

It has definitely helped to gain a bit of perspective from the other Fulbrighters as well as share knowledge about Puno to people who are unfamiliar with its culture (I even taught people from Lima things about Puno they didn't know!) Additionally, I was able to enjoy some comforts that made me feel a bit closer to the States: hot showers, comfortable sofa-chairs in coffee shops, movie theaters, big-red gum, walking around shopping malls, political conversations over dinner with other researchers, big red gum, libraries, cable tv in my room, NFL sportsbar to watch Thanskgiving games, soy milk, mexican and sushi restaurants...

Still, Lima is neither where I belong nor what I love about Peru. I know from that list I make Puno sound like it is in the middle of nowhere. These are just little things that are not in my life in the highlands. On the flipside, there are things about Puno that I miss and really look forward to having once I return on Sunday: clean air, a sense of security on the streets and taxis, greeting people I know as I walk around town, great meals for 5 soles (average price for a meal in Lima's tourist district is 20-30 soles), my friends, not feeling under-dressed all the time, daily parades...

I just stopped a moment and took in what I wrote in the two paragraphs above. Almost all the little bonuses of Lima were materialistic in nature, whereas my pluses of Puno were more subjective and in reference to a sense of community. Maybe that's what I forgot to share with Alex from Yale :

The difference between a bar in Lima and a bar in Puno isn't based on the kind of drinks you have, the music they play, or the clothes people wear. The real difference is that, unlike in sprawling city of Lima (population 9 million) you have had the opportunity to insert yourself in the a community of a bar's clientel...where everybody knows your name (is the theme song ringing in anybody's head?)

I think the other province Fulbrights would agree.

Lima...take two and tasting much better

2006-11-20T16:41:00.000-08:00

I am back in Lima! This time, I am here for a week event hosted by the Fulbright Commission. I will have to admit, I was not looking forward to coming to the coast. Last time I was here, I definitely had a foul taste in my mouth for the city. The past 24 hours, though, have been marvelous! The Fulbright has put me up in an extremely comfortable hostal in the calm district of Barranco. Having a nice room with an exceptionally chill atmosphere definitely makes a big difference.

Since I have arrived to sea-level (after 3 months up at 13,000ft) I feel like I could run a marathon. Its seriously an amazing feeling to take huge, deep breathes...and enjoy the smell of the ocean at the same time. Oh, that's the other thing! My current spot is right next to the coast and I have already enjoyed two long walks to Miraflores, looking off into the Pacific. Seeing the sun, and enjoying 70 degree weather makes quite a difference. My only complaint was that once I got to Miraflores, the Starbucks was having problems with their water filtration and I couldn't buy a drink. I know, I know...but come on! You think I can go for an entire year without a tall americano!??!!?

This morning I met with the top advisor of the National Council on Decentralization. Because the local elections just finished yesterday, he was a tad preoccupied and apologized for having to cancel our meeting. Granted, he still met with me for an hour and invited me to return later this week for a more formal interview. He's so great...definitely an old, liberal sociology professor stuck in the body of a political advisor.

I think the main activity this week will be hanging out in the Catholic University library. Of course, I will take a quick break on Friday to have turkey and gravy with the other Fulbrights and (I think) the US Ambassador.

OH, and I have to share the exciting news!!!!! I just found out from another Fulbrighter that we are being flown to Cartagena, Colombia in April for a conference with the Andean nation Fulbrights! How cool is that?!!?!?

In the land of swimming cows

2006-11-02T08:27:00.000-08:00

I must apologize for having taken a bit of a break from sharing my stories on my blog. Things have been a bit crazy as my semester comes to an end. I have finished my internship with IDEA and sent in my thesis proposal for my professor at American University. I am headed off to La Paz on Thursday for a day trip and then I will be in Lima for the entire following week...having the Turkey Dinner with my fellow Fulbrights and the Ambassador of the US.

After next week, I will begin my interviews and field research at full force! I will be doing a LOT of traveling through the month of January, so please be patient with my entries. They will be spontaneous, but very interesting!

Of course, I need to share with you my weekend visit to the island of Anapia. This took place a few weeks ago, and I have taken forever to finish the entry....but here goes:

Last Thursday I traveled to the border of Peru and Bolivia to spend the weekend on the island of Anapia. Having worked on the child literacy program in conjunction with the director of a local island NGO, I took up his invitation to visit his home.

After a trip that included 2 hours, in a bumpy combi , 3 hours waiting in the market of the town of Yunguyo (and getting pretty unfriendly stares from the women of the city), another half hour bumpy ride and a sloooooow 2 hour boat trip on the village communal boat (with a bag of something that smelled REALLY nasty right in front of me), I arrived to Anapia. To my surprise, my contact, Jose was not waiting for me on the dock. A young girl from the community took me to his house, but it was empty. Turns out, he was still in his chacra (farming field) planting potatoes. The town was empty as everyone was working on the fields. As the sun was setting, I wasn't sure what to do or where to go.

Luckily, the children in the community were very friendly, and one invited me to wait in his home until Jose returned. As it turned out, I was suppose to be greeted by my weekend hostess, Maritza...she had just turned up a bit too late to the dock. Her home was GORGEOUS! The guest room was even more comfortable than my home in Puno. To my suprise, unlike the island of Amantani, there was electricity, running water, toilets, and even a hot shower!

I was truly blown away by the organization, cleanliness, and calm of the community. They have not been overwhelmed by the tourism experience, but instead have prepared and adapted to the presence of small groups of visitors. I was invited to create my own schedule for the weekend...basically I could do whatever I wanted!

So....on Friday, I went with my host, Hidilago, to attend his third grade class at the local school. We had discussed over dinner the previous night the work I had done in Amantani as well as at Concordia. To my surprise, I was invited to teach the class! It was really fun! We did math, reading, and spelling activities. The kids taught me some songs and I shared games and songs from camp with them. They were full of very intruiging questions like, "Why do you write with your left hand?" and "Why does the snow fall in Minnesota?" If anyone has those answers...please let me know because I did my darnest trying to figure out how to explain them!!!!!!!!!!!!

On Saturday, Maritza and I walked to the other side of the island, jumped in one of her friend's row boats, and went to the neighboring island, Yuspiqui. While the community lives in Anapia, they maintain their farming fields in Yuspiqui. I had arrived just in time for the potato planting season. We arrived at Jose's chacra where his wife, son, and daughter were working the land. Maritza and I joined them, breaking the soil and prepping the seeds.

Anapians don't use any chemicals to prep their seeds. They go the natural route....using NATURAL fertilzer. In a bucket, Jose's wife had a lovely mix of vicuña (a wild cousin of the llama) poo and pee. They cover the potatoes with the vicuña salsa (hahaha) and let it sit out in the sun.

After prepping the potatos we had lunch (I swear I doused my hands in that sanitizer lotion). Lunch was a blanket full of boiled potatoes, chuño, and fried eggs. Maritza, worried about my Westerness, had brought everything except the kitchen sink....silverware, plates, the salt shaker, and even the tea cups and saucers. In the end, though, we ate just like Jose's family...picking at the potatoes with our hands. Lunch was finished off with a cup of tea and chewing some coca leaves. Jose taught me how to bless the potatoes "so that they will grow bigger than my head" and thank the Pachamama (Mother Earth) for her help in their fields.

With the help of two oxen, we finished planting the potatoes in the fields. I was in charge of dropping the potato seeds into the open earth. They instructed me to place each potato a foot-length apart. In reality, I had to place them about a half a foot-length apart...my feet are a bit longer than that of the women in the island.

Once we had finished dropping the poo covered potatoes into the ground, Maritza and I took off in search of a ride home to Anapia. We finally found one boat that was about to depart. They asked us to meet them about a half mile down the island where their cows were waiting for them. Cows waiting? Alright....I hope you are ready for this:

One of the boat's passangers helped us onto the boat and then began pushing the cows towards the water. That's right, cow's swim. The two hephers were great swimmers, nor did they seem too happy. Their bellies floated about the rest of their bulk and their eyes scanned wildly. I felt really bad for them, and to be honest was a bit worried they would tip the boat! Still, they made the 20 minute swim to Anapia. So now I think I know the true way to make ice cream (yuck, yuck!)

The Rural Traveler

2006-10-15T10:05:00.000-07:00

I just got back from another weekend on the island of Amantani. The community of Suncayani Alto welcomed me with open arms... 80 little arms to be exact. We are trying to develop this project with an emphasis on having Puno's local university students take the iniative in volunteering. Unfortunately, folks were a tad too busy this weekend partying. I must admit, I was a tad upset that no one would take the time to travel for a day to the island. One of my to-be companions showed up at the house around 1pm...a bit late seeing as the boat leaves at 8am on the dot. So I was alone to receive the hugs from the island's children.

After settling in Silverio's house and having lunch with two very shy Swiss tourists, I was off to the community's school. I hoped to meet roughly 20 kids, as that had been a relatively manageable number last weekend. Not surprisingly, word had spread about the activities and books that I had brought last Saturday. I was confronted with 40 VERY animated kiddies. We played a couple of games that drew lots of giggles. Afterwards (and I am still amazed about this), I read an entire book to the kids and actually kept their attention! Even better...the kids understood the story after I asked them some comprehension questions.

After finishing the story of Pinochio, I asked them what special tool the fairy used to turn Pinochio into a real boy. "A magic wand!" the kids exclaimed. "Very good!" I told them "Now, I don't have any magic wands, but today I have a very special magic box for you all." In my special box were 50 pieces of colored chalk. Each child got to pick the color of the chalk and draw the different characters from the story. They wrote the names of the characters and drew Geppeto, the fairy, the fox, the cat. One boy even copied the image of Geppeto and Pinochio in the boat fleeing the angry whale. This wasn't enough for the kids, and they wanted to draw more characters....Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf, Alice in Wonderland and the rabbit. Within an hour the entire patio was filled with blue, yellow, red, and brown images and words. Let me tell you...there were a LOT of mean-looking whales on the school patio yesterday!!! Project chalk....accomplished and quite fun.

The rumor had spread on the island that I was going to shower the children with books, notebooks, pens, etc. The goal of our work is not to dump gifts on the population. Instead, we are trying to work with them to promote a reading culture. When I met with the parents, the proyect was clarified in this sense. They had just finished building a kindergarden for the younger students. We discussed the option of using a small portion of the center for a library. I promised to make a deal with the community. As our intent was not to simply donate things in the community and run, our group would work with the community to create the library. If the community agreed to develop a communal fund for purchasing books, materials, as well as maintaining the local, the volunteers would help with the construction and purchasing of materials to begin the library.

To anyone reading this in the U.S., if you are interested in donating to our project please let me or my mom know! The easiest way would be to send money to buy products (chalk, notebooks, books). My hope is to also gather funds to purchase a stereo and buy basic English/French/German comprehension tapes so that the families can develop basic vocabulary in order to communicate with the tourists they house.

The parents were very upbeat, and decided that they would vote on the issue in the upcoming weekly meeting. They asked me how much money the project would demand of them. I told them that a) it was not my place to make that decision, but it would be an important issue to debate in the community, and b) I recommended that they designate a small monthly fund in order to consider this project as a long-term, sustainable resource for all to enjoy. Again, the important knowledge that we as volunteers will offer is how to create a space that is respected and enjoyed by everyone in the community.

The kids and parents were a bit upset that I won't be back on the island for three weeks. While I do enjoy spending a day in Amantani, I really think it is necessary that others in our group step up and get involved. Additionally, I have made some other committments for the next two weekends to share with you all later....but here is a quick preview:

next Saturday- writing party with the kids on the floating island of Kuntiki...the kids are going to make up myths about their island. Either I will go to their island or they will come to Puno and we will go do some shopping at a book store!

following Saturday- I will be donating my fertile youth to the fields of the island of Anapia. I will be working with one of our island coordinators, Jose Flores, on his land and getting to know his community.

I left the Amantani this morning at 5am on the communal boat and arrived in Puno to shower and repack my bags. This afternoon I am heading out to the rural province of Chucuito to begin my contacts, interviews, and setting dates for my focus groups following the new year. This week, I will be staying in the city of Juli with two German theologians and working with the contacts I have made through my host institute as well as the Institute on Rural Education. I will return to the city of Puno on Friday with lots of stories and hopefully lots of interviews/meeting dates. Keep your fingers crossed!

Well at least they know how to get their point across...

2006-10-11T07:04:00.000-07:00

So, today I was suppose to give a presentation on ethnographic research methods to members of the Institute on Aymara Studies. The presentation has been postponed...hopefully until tomorrow. From time to time, classes or events are cancelled because of the unpredictability of weather. Normally because with too much rain Lake Titicaca floods over onto the highway. This was not the case today.

Wwhen I went downstairs for breakfast this morning, Jeny mentioned that four French tourists had left early this morning in order to compensate for the additional time they would need to travel to Bolivia. I thought it was a peculiar comment, and I asked why the trip would take extra time.

"Oh, because they were reporting on the radio that they are blockading between Puno and Ilave" she commented. I immediately dropped my bread and ran for my phone. I called Juan, my internship coordinator, and asked him if he had heard about the news. He had not, but would confirm it with me after he made a few calls. Sure enough, four of our participants had already emailed to inform him that they were unable to arrive because of the strikes. Juan called back, offering that we could attempt to pass through the blockade. As tempting as that sounded (pure sarcasm, Mom, I promise) I thought it best to wait until tomorrow.

Having been in Puno for two months, I am extremely use to parades and manifestations. There is some kind of march literally every day. It's really funny when the tourists that are spending their token day in the city of Puno witness one of the parades. "Wow, how lucky are we to be here on a parade day!" I have heard over and over again. Oh, if only they knew....

The primary purpose of these gatherings is to dance, or as they say here desfilar. Oh, I would like to take this opportunity to complain about the damn university next to my house STILL is practicing for a parade coming up on Friday. Every night for the past 2 weeks from 5-10 there is music blaring on the street. The worst part is that they play the same damn song over and over again...I am really, really looking forward the end of this week, and I also don't mind if I never here this particular song ever again.

Sorry, let me refocus....Occasionally, there is a march in protest of something. Typically here in Puno the protests focus on issues of education. I think teachers spend more time striking than actually teaching in the classroom. Take, for example, the professors who have effectively cut off the only viable route from Peru to Bolivia.

As you can see on the map-------------------> There is really only one road on the southern side of the lake from Puno to the border with Bolivia. It cuts through all the main cities of the southern provinces (Chucuito, Juli, Ilave, Yunguyo, Desaguaderos).

In reality, I am not quite sure how intense these strikers are today. From my knowledge of the culture of blockades in Bolivia, as well the information provided in the U.S. Embassy Security Briefing I attended in August (that effectively scared the crap out of me ), I don't think I am going to try to make my way through the blockade.

2006-10-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

I want to share with you all my first outing to Amantani. Another little activity I am taking part in :) The proyect, unofficially titles "Por y Para los Wawas" (For the Children) is a volunteer program focused on developing literacy in rural island communities. Our team is made up of Peruvians living in Puno with mixed talents (teachers, doctors, nutritionists, sociologists). The travel agency, All Ways Travel, is coordinating our travels and contacts in the community.

Being considered the expert on motivating children (thank you Concordia Language Villages), I am making the first trips with Señor Victor from the agency to meet the kids and present the project to the parents. There are 9 communities on the island of Amantani. Yesterday we visited Sancayuni Alto. This comes out of my journal writing while I was on the island:

I feel like I am living in a scene from Little House on the Prarie. In the small, adobe house, I sit by candlelight writing my journal. Today I have witnessed the marvelous challenge presented by the difficult realities the Amantani community faces.

This morning the tour boat departed at 8am with 20 tourists in tow--4 Americans, 2 Spaniards, 2 Chinese, and a dozen Dutch, Señor Victor and me. I felt completely apart from the tourist pack. The first stop was on the floating island of the Uros. While the tourists listened to a presentation by their guide and an Aymara leader from the community, I sat with a group of kids on the other side of the island. They took turns reading from the only book they could find on in their houses. For about 45 minutes we had a lot of fun reading and playing games. It was obvioulsy very productive interacting with these kids while we work our way to our island destination.

The tourists were curious about my relatively abnormal behavior and a few of us began to chat. I am quickly realizing how knowledgable I have become about Puno culture and realities that are difficult to pick up without having been around the region for a while (p.s.- today marks month #2!!!!)

Three hours later, our boat arrived to the dock of Sancayuni Alto. Señor Victor was immediately flustered because no one was present to meet us. The leaders were very busy delegating the tourists to their homestays and had an additional burden with and NGO whose representatives wanted to do house surveys of homes serving to tourists. Jonatan, a little 7 year old boy took us to the school where supposedly 100 kids were waiting for us. We found no one in the school house. This, of course, set Señor Victor off a bit. I convinced him that we should find housing and eat lunch before we continued.

We found housing with Silvanio, one of the community leaders. As our visit was unexpected, his daughter, Alicia, quickly made a lunch of soup and a plate of rice, fried egg, and potatoes. While we ate, Martinez, another community leader gathered 20 children (ages 5-13) to meet us at the school. This was a perfect group as we had purchased 20 books (stories like Pinnochio, the 3 Little Pigs). Each book cost 2 soles, and the purchases came out of Señor Victor and my pockets.

I led a couple of warm up games like we do at camp. The purpose was to let the kids get to know me a bit more. Luckily, they were EXTREMELY responsive and participated...giggling the whole time. Sometimes I had to wait while the older children translated what I was saying in Spanish to their younger siblings in Quechua. Spanish is only a second language they speak in school. Next, we shared the books with the children and performed two skits (The Cat in Boots and Snow White). The kids were very excited to act...especially the 7 dwarfs.

The bigger challenge came, though, once we tried to read in the classroom. One boy participated in the reading, and actually did relatively well. Unfortunately, the others had little interest in listening. To regain their attention and make sure they were comprehending the story, I stopped every paragraph or so to act out the scene or draw on the chalkboard. Fortunately they understood my drawing of the whale that swallows Pinnochio. The approach proved extremely effective.

After the kids ran home with their new gifts, we again struggled to hunt down the parents and community leaders. I don't believe it was a lack of interest on their part as much as being uninformed. On our part, we also lacked an understanding of the schedule of the community for properly sequencing our activities with them. Once we got the parents (manly the men) together, Victor began to give a speech about our work. The women had to return home to cook for the tourist who were returning from their hike to the island's peak.

Being a foreigner and young woman, I never spoke directly or forcefully. I left this to Señor Victor. It is definitely not my place to challenge the community leaders. I presented myself and then took pictures at the permission of the meeting participants. Afterwards, I went to sit down, and realized I had sat in the row of the men. I quickly got up and walked over to where the women and children sat. This gesture was evidently appreciated, especially by the women.

Señor Victor was very firm in his presentation of our project. I worry, though, that he went a bit over the top. I will NEVER discount him for his passion and determination in the work, but I am concerned that he is speaking down to the community a bit too harshly. I was then asked to add a few comments. Trying to counter Señor Victor's intense comments, I spoke more meekly and thanked the parents for allowing me to spend time with their kids.

The meeting was productive. The parents were animated about me returning this coming Saturday to work with both the kids as well as a group of parents. The primary idea is to create a puppet show with the characters from the books. Additionally, with the parents, we will discuss how to incorporate reading in the home. I hope that I will have 1 or 2 other volunteers with me next week. Señor Victor is helpful with the transportation issues, but is a bit rough with both the kids and the adults. Another positive from the meeting was our new community coordinator. Flavio, the elementary school teacher wants to help us coordinate and plan activities.

So, I will return to the island next Saturday with my toilet paper, flashlight, handwash, 4 layers of clothes, sunscreen, toothpaste, and deoderant. For the family I will bring fruit as a present to thank them for their hospitality and a book for their daughter.

P.s...There is NOTHING more amazing than walking on the island with nothing more than the moonlight from the sky and the lake's reflection guiding you as clearly as in the daytime.

Thank you Teacher

2006-10-06T12:52:00.000-07:00

I do kind of cringe when they call me "Teacher". I am not sure whether it bothers me more because I would prefer my students to call me Laura, or because as a student in the US we never addressed "Ms. Gabriel" or "Mr. Hrabe" as "Teacher". Yes, I have another activity in progress here in Puno, Peru. I am teach English! Kind of funny, no? I have never taught English...always Spanish!

The director of the Peruvian-North American Cultural Center and I met during our chit-chat with the U.S. Ambassador a couple of weeks ago. He commented that the institute would really like to have a native speaker to teach the advanced students. Seeing as I don't have any formal TEOSL skills, I explained a bit about the types of activities we do at Concordia Language Villages. He was thrilled, and asked if I was interested in using the CLV methodology in a type of conversation class with students.

So, now I teach an interactive class every Monday and Wednesday for 1.5 hours. We play games, create skits, watch movies, etc. The idea is to present American culture in the context of interactive language participation. In general, the institute faces a challenge with a culture of very shy students. This is VERY difficult when the purpose is to learn to communicate with the English language! Most of the students grasp the grammar, reading comprehension, and I think they have a good listening comprehension. The downfall is in oral comprehension.

So far, my class has been receptive. John, the director, claims they love the style of the class (which we have titled "Free Chatroom"). A couple of the professors in the institute are my students, but I have a healthy mix of highschooler and adults. I am REALLY pushing them to be active in the room. They are not receiving any formal grading beyond class participation. But the way I have designed activities...well, they have no choice BUT to be involved (hehe).

"Random" Urban Development

2006-10-02T16:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, I must comment on the peculiar approach to urban development that occurs here in Puno. I don't really know how construction planning is implemented and/or controlled, so to be culturally sensitive, I will not jump to conclusions and call it "poor" ...we'll just say it is, well, "random" urban development.

The city of Puno is relatively small and quite easy to manuever by foot. Still, that doesn't mean that you can let down your guard ONE BIT. Very, very important note...pedestrians do not have the right of way. No way, no how. I think I've mentioned this three or four times to my parents, and I will repeat again and again: cars do not stop for you. Even if you are crossing the street and a taxi is going to take a left hand turn behind you as you are crossing the street...he has the right of way. Luckily there aren't too many cars in Puno (and it isn't the insanity that Lima's traffick presents). Still, with high quantity of taxis, tricycles, and motobikes it is important to look both ways about seven times before crossing the street.

Another unique feature of Puneñan streets are the sidewalks. Walking down the road reminds me of old school atari games. Remember the little dude with the cowboy hat who climbed latters, jumped over rolling barrels, and fell through the holes? Yeah...it's kind of like that minus the barrels. It is very important to be completely aware of where you are taking your next step. Sometimes a house has been built all the way out to the curb of the road and you have to walk in the street. Other times, there is a hole in the sidewalk or a pole or two or dog poo (lots and lots of dog poo). If a group of people are walking towards you, it is the best bet for the person walking against the traffick to challenge the oncoming tricycle.

Today, I could not help but laugh as I walked home. It was a bit colder than I expected and I planned on going home to snuggle in bed and practice my Aymara. As I rounded the corner to my street, I found that the entire road was blocked. In front of my house were roughly 50 students practicing a traditional dance...in the middle of the street! I am talking these guys were LITERALLY blocking the entire road. The leader had a whistle in his mouth (reminded me of the Music Man) and the troop behind him followed diligently left-two-three, spin, right-two-three. A boom box BLARED the music on the street and the sidewalks were lined with about 100 interested spectators. I guess I am going to have to find a quite restaurant to study in for the night. There really is no where else to practice...no space besides a street I guess! Interesting urban planning, huh?

IT IS THE END OF THE WORLD

2006-09-28T10:09:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been in a thunderstorm at 13,000ft? Let me just say that I am glad that my first experience occurred while I was still in the city of Puno.

Last night I stayed late in the office to work. Around 6pm it started getting dark and windy, but I wanted to keep working through the hour. Suddenly the sky began to fall. It was raining very intensely, but within five minutes the rain turned into hail. The hail was no bigger than pinballs, but it was as if it was snowing! In the end there was about an inch of hail on the ground.

AND THE LIGHTINGING! Oh my God. Being closer to the sky equals being closer to each and every bolt. HOLY CRAP. If you have ever seen the electrical storm in the movie "War of the Worlds" with Tom Cruise, I think that you will have a good idea of what a normal storm is like here. The entire sky lit up at every ray. I couldn't even count through "one mississippi" before POW! BAM! BOOM! It felt like it was immediately on top of the building.

Needless to say, I quickly shut off the computer. People outside were running frantically in the hail storm. Most took shelter in the Cathedral across the street from my office. The temperature had dropped at least 15 degrees. For the first time I could see my breath in the air. I called a cab and was dropped off at the restaurant to meet Gerson and a friend. They were relaxing with a glass of wine, enjoying the weather. They did not even flinch while with EVERY bolt I jumped a few feet from my seat. "This is nothing", they commented. "The rainy season is only starting...and there will be storms like this once or twice a month."

WOW...I must say that experiencing Puno's storms is something else. I am not looking forward to the storms that start at 3am...and much less when I am living in the peasant communities in the rural sectors of Moho and Chucuito!

Another little trip...this time to the "caca" side of the lake

2006-09-22T14:22:00.000-07:00

HOLA FROM LA PAZ, BOLIVIA!

I decided to take a small trip across the border for three days. It has been a wonderful escape! Last time I was in the city was spring break, 2005 with 20 other AU students. This time around has been QUITE different...much more informal and relaxed seeing no presidents are resigning from office (though the culture of Bolivian blockades continues).

My favorite Peruvian restaurant owner, Kike, joined me on the first leg of the trip. We traveled the real way: woke up at 5am to ride a combi from Puno to Desaguaderos. It was a bumpy three hour ride for 6 soles (around $2). The experience at the border is something else. I apologize that a written description just would not do it justice, but wow...organized chaos at its finest. After getting our passports stamped, we got in a cab with four other passengers (2 rode in the trunk) and paid 20 bolivianos a person (less than $3) for an hour ride to La Paz. Correction-the taxi driver would only take us to El Alto and dropped us off on the side of the highway. From there, for 1 boliviano, we rode another combi into the city. Let's just say this was a bit more adventurous than the luxury my AU trip afforded...but at least this time I didn't pass out from lack of oxygen!

Yesterday, Kike and I spent the day walking EVERYWHERE. The CRAZY thing is that I remember how to get everywhere in the city! I remember where the restaurants and markets are that I visited two years ago! Thank you, Dad, for my photographic memory. We had a crummy lunch, but found the sushi bar we were craving for dinner and felt much better. Our other major goal was to watch a movie (no theaters in Puno), but the only movies playing were Click and some movie about a monster house (???). OH! There was another movie that we decided to pass on- ¿Quién mató a la llamita blanca? (tranlation- Who Killed the Little White Llama?) Don't worry folks...I have a picture of the movie poster.

This morning, I met with Gary Shaye- Director of Save the Children, Bolivia. On our AU trip in 2005, he gave us a presentation of the work his NGO does and ever since we have stayed in touch. I can confirm that he is the coolest American in Bolivia! We had a great chat and he introduced me to a contact from Peru. But Mr-Bend-over-backwards-to-help also went out of his way to recommend a restaurant for lunch (even printed off the entire menu) AND book my trip back to Puno! My return will be a bit more touristy, as I pass through Copacabana on a tour-bus. With roughly 50 other foreigners I will be traveling for a whopping $13 (41 soles or 100 bolivianos). I take off tomorrow morning at 8am and return to Puno around 5pm. Not too shabby!

This afternoon I enjoyed a lovely cup of Yungas coffee in Cafe Alexander...the Starbucks of La Paz (sad to say but still no soy milk). Afterwards, I went to a really cool photo museum with historical pictures of the region. Tonight, I am treating myself to a dinner on the 20th floor of the Plaza Hotel. The panoramic view of the city from the restaurant is something else. Again, I will have pictures to share afterwards.

I did not have time to do everything I wanted in La Paz, but I plan on returning to pick up anybody who would like to come visit me!

CRAZY weekend escape...

2006-09-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

Okay, I have to offer you the play-by-play of this weekend. Seriously, it was ridiculous.

The plan: Go to Arequipa to see Gonzalo Cerati, a famous Argentine rock musican, perform. The original idea was to get on the bus at 4am on Saturday morning, go to the concert, and return to Puno on the Sunday bus at 4am. Here's how it went down:

Friday
8:30pm- begin celebrating the weekend at Mojsa by sharing a bottle of Argentine wine (in honor of our beloved Cerati, of coures)
8:45- three separate tour groups, totaling 35 people show up for dinner ALL AT ONCE! The head chef had already left and the restaurant was short one waitress. We quickly put aside our half full glasses of wine and start working. Yup, I played waitress for two tables of Dutch tourists that night.
10:15- plates are empty and the tired tourists head off to their hotels. The restaurant door is locked and, after running around like maniacs for the past hour, we return to our wine and conversation
11:00pm- cuban salsa lesson with our Swiss professor. We had to warm up a bit for our first exam...at the discoteca.

Saturday
12:00am- off to Domino, the discoteca to dance for a few hours. Always a blast.
3:00- we leave the club to gather our stuff, jump in a cab, and arrive at the bus terminal
4:00am- of course the bus is late! As we are waiting, Yerson suddenly decides he doesn't want to go!!! An intense conversation ensues as we try to convince him...but the decision is made just as the bus starts to depart. We go RUNNING after the bus and make it just in time as it leaves the terminal. Oops....we all make it except Gabo!!! He jumps in a cab and chases the bus down about 2 miles later. All on the bus, minus Yerson, we sleep after a long evening of dancing.
9:00- arrive in Arequipa practically sweating...it was soooooooo hot on the bus. We jump in a cab and head over to Giorgio's house to freshen up.
12:00pm-everyone is starving and we decide to hunt down lunch. Chifa (Chinese food) is the choice of the crowd...mmmmmmmm fried wontons and white rice. A few other friends show up (the group I was traveling with all are friends from high school. Half of the group still live in Puno while the other half have migrated to Arequipa). We are now joined by Gonzalo and Martin. Only one word is need to describe these guys: HILARIOUS.
1:00- content with our full stomachs, the boys decide to go to a picateria to have a beer. Basically, this is a typical little patio restaurant. Here's the interesting part. There are 8 of us and they order 3L of beer. The beers arrive with two cups- one glass and another plastic. The beer is served in the round and after each person drinks their glass cup they "clean" it by pouring the remaining fizz into the plastic cup. Girls never serve themselves in the round. The male preceeding the female offers her a cup and then serves himself.
4:00pm- After a total of 9L of beer (I passed after I had probably consumed a total of one 12oz. beer), we decide to head out to prepare for the night. Giorgio asks everyone to be at his house AT SIX ON THE DOT. Ursula and I head to the main square of Arequipa to walk around and have a cup of coffee.
6:00..on the dot- Ursula and I return to Giorgio's house. We are the first ones there.
7:30- everyone finally arrives at the house and we pass out our tickets and jump in cabs to head off to the concert.
9:00pm-the line moved through quickly, and we are inside the Beer Garden of Arequipa (beautiful stadium). I have my first bag of popcorn in MONTHS! mmmmmmmmm. lights suddenly dim and the concert begins! The tickets cost 15 soles (less than $5) and we are within 20 yards of the singer. The light effects are awesome, the music is spectacular, and the crowd is completely tranquile. All in all, probably one of the most enjoyable concerts I have ever attended.

Sunday
12:00am- Cerati finally takes his last bow. He played for two hours straight and the crowd kept begging him for more. We are a little cold and tired and decide to look for cabs to head off to Gonzalo's house.
2:00am- After walking roughly 2 miles trying to hail cabs we FINALLY make it to the house. The guys get pisco and sprite but Ursula and I are exhausted. We go to sleep upstairs in the guestroom.
(NOTE-we have missed our original time to return to Puno...but sleeping seemed like a MUCH better option)
5:00am- We are rudely awakened by the boys. They want us to help them finish the bottle, but I put up a good fight of refusing to open my eyes and sit up. I win and go back to sleep. Everyone finally calls it quits and sleeps on couches throughout the house.
7:00am- Ana wakes me up for breakfast. Not a problem! I jump out of bed and the three girls head to the center of Arequipa for a nice breakfast of bread, coffee, and fruit. We are completely "despeinada" (messy hair, overly tired), so luckily the plaza was empty!
9:00am- Back to Giorgio's house and freshen up. We're waiting for the boys to wake up and meet us at the house. I promptly sit on the couch and fall asleep.
11:00am- The boys show up and we start flipping channels on the t.v. Giorgio has cable!!! ESPN!!!!!!!!!! I got to watch a bit of football!!!!!!!!!!!!! My weekend was complete.
12:00pm- We say goodbye and the original Puno crew finally heads out to the bus terminal. The most comfortable bus leaves at 2pm. We grab lunch and blow sighs of relief as we watch the much less appealing 1pm bus leave the station.
2:00pm- On the road again
7:00pm- Back in Puno. I run home for my meeting with the Proyect Community Amantani team. I will share more about that in the future.
9:00pm- In Mojsa to grab a bite to eat and chat with my travel companions. The University of Puno is still celebrating it's annivesary in the streets and we decide to run around and take pictures.

It was a crazy, fun weekend. I will not forget this one and all the friends I made.

how about a little commission, eh??

2006-09-14T08:19:00.000-07:00

Fine, I will admit that from time to time it can get kind of lonely living abroad. Living in Córdoba, Argentina, it was hard to find a quiet moment in a house with 12 housemates. This time around, I spend the majority of my day alone. When I am reading, I stick to either my room or a restaurant (no Starbucks here to get my caffeine fix, though I have found some quiet locations that have good expresso...oh soy lattes, how I miss you). Otherwise, I am bouncing off to the town of Chuquito for Aymara language classes and between different offices or internet cafes in Puno. During these first months, my effort is to build up networks and knowledge base that will prepare me for my field research in the rural provinces of Moho and Chucuito come late November and after the new year.

The evenings are the hardest time for me. I have never been a very good student after dinner time, and prefer to wake up early to get work done. My mind often drifts off into the evening, but I have found ways of keeping myself occupied when my intellectual capacity to focus is lost.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays my house bro, Yerson, and I join a few friends who own the restaurant Mojsa (translated from Aymara--sweet or pleasant tasting) to take cuban salsa dance lessons. The kicker is that our professor is from Switzerland. Don't judge to quickly...this Swiss can move! Granted he kind of looks like Gumbi with rhythm because he's so thin and flexible, he's a very patient teacher and we all have a lot of fun. I may not have the natural latino hip movement, but I have been able to keep up with the steps we are learning.

Other days, I have enjoyed the opportunity that my housing situation presents. The tourist turnover in Puno is impressive. People often stop through the city for a day or two. Normally, they will arrive early in the morning by bus or in the late afternoon by train from Cuzco. The first full day is typically devoted to visiting the floating islands and sometimes staying overnight on the island of Amantani or Taquile. By the next day, the tourists head off for Arequipa or Cuzco. Sometimes they will continue on to La Paz, Bolivia. Right now, that is not a popular choice as there have been continual protests and strikes that are blockading the major tourist route of Copacabana...gotta love Bolivian political realities these days.

I really enjoy meeting the tourists. Sometimes couples arrive, but often the traveler comes alone. Having traveled a lot, I know how overwhelming it feels to arrive in a city and hardly know anything. Where's good to eat? What can I learn within one evening while I am here? And, most typical when arriving to the altitudes of Puno, damn, I feel cruddy...I just want a pleasant meal and a nice conversation. Enter moi. When I have nothing else to do, I offer to accompany the new arrivals out for a relaxing dinner. Where to? Coca Kintu, of course! By far, it is the most enjoyable meal in Puno. The adminstrator, Mark, is originally from England and has settled in Puno after marrying a local (they just gave birth to their second daughter a week ago!). The food is spectacular...think French cuisine-training meets traditional recipes of Peru.

With my temporary new friends, I have enjoyed wonderful evenings that often start around 7 or 8 and end nearly by 11pm. Normally the travelers have raging apetites and enjoy the large meals of alpaca with fig sauce or trout in andean herbs. I stick to the smaller appetizers like the wonderful kingfish rolls (think cooked sushi). A nice cup of coca tea or vino caliente (a much better version of mulled vine) and a pleasant evening of travel tales ensues. Mark will often join the table with a glass of wine and chit-chat.

I have shown up about 4 or 5 times now with fellow house guests and he's joked about giving me comission...I am waiting for him to pay up! Regardless, it's a nice balance to the days full of sorting out the research that overwhelms me. Plus, I hardly speak English anymore, and I need to make sure I don't get too rusty!! :)

Contrabando...everybody's doing it!

2006-09-10T13:41:00.000-07:00

Every Tuesday and Thursday I ride on a "combi", public transportation, from Puno to the town of Chucuito for my Aymara language and culture lessons. The ride takes between 15 to 35 minutes and costs one sol. The ride time fluxuates because people can get on and off at any time.

We don't leave the station until the combi is full (squished seating capacity of about 18 people...in a car the size of a mini-van). If more people want a ride, well...they get to stand. I have been on the ride when roughly 25 people smash inside the car. Generally, it is a painful ride for me as I am very tall in comparison to the other people on the ride. Not a lot of leg room, and let me tell you, the smell is not so pleasant.

On the way back from Chucuito to Puno there is always a stop through a make-shift customs post. About 10 police officers check every car and bus that passes. The road is the only route from the border with Bolivia and is NOTORIOUS for contraband. Typically the stop if very brief. A police officer asks the driver for his documents and sometimes they peek around the seats looking for anything obvious. In all of my experiences to-date, the police hardly make an effort to look around, and no one has ever been questioned or detained. The police never even come close to me or any other foreigners on the ride.

The amazing part, though, is that on EVERY trip I have taken, someone has gotten past with contraband. A normal case is a woman with a large bag full of clothes, shoes, and sometimes electronics. Once she gets on the combi she will unwrap her bag and pass the items to the other passengers. People will put the leather jackets on, sit on top of the pants, or tuck pairs of shoes into their own bags or under their shirts. The woman will almost start begging you if you refuse to help.

This happened the other day when Juan road back from a conference that was held with the NGO. The woman kept asking him to help, and he kept refusing. Finally, she tucked the bag underneath both his and my seat. On this occassion, the woman was smuggling TONS of stuff. She had at least four or five bags full of contraband and additionally looked enormously overweight as she had things tucked all around her body. Almost everyone on the ride had a possession of her on or under their person. She did not even ask me to help...I have never been asked to hide anything. I think it best that way. "Fulbright fellow detained for smuggling contraband" doesn't really sound like the publicity I want to have while I am in Peru.

Once we arrived at the check station it was obvious that people were a bit more concerned than normal because of the quantity of goods that were on the combi. The police officer who came into the inspect the ride took five seconds and hardly even made an effort. We were flagged to move on and continued to Puno without a problem.

As we pushed our way out of the packed combi in Puno, Juan asked me what I thought about the ride. I told him I was fascinated by how much contraband had passed through with such ease. I asked him if he ever helped hide contraband and he said no. But then he commented, "you know we both helped the contraband sneak through?" He was absolutely right. Indirectly, having not said anything, we were accomplices. The other choice would have been to said "hey, Mr. Policia! Everyone on the bus is wearing a piece of contraband!!!!" The probable reaction would have been rather ugly, so I think it much better to shut my mouth and participate in silence. It seems the best of the two evils.

Now, I feel it is important to note that contraband is a reality of life in southern Peru. The region is economically depressed. These products simply are not obtainable by the majority of the populace that live in the city and rural areas. Walking through "el contrabando" (the market where all the contraband is sold) is an eye-opening experience. You can get ANYTHING there--microwaves, Ralph Lauren polos, Bailey's liquor, underwear, Pringles potatoe chips...you name it. The prices range from outrageously cheap to rather pricey. I asked the price for a nice pair of sketcher's sneakers and it was roughly 120 soles (roughly $40).

Judge the situation as you like, but contraband is just the way things work here...everybody's doing it!

"El Receloso, El Extranjero" The Distrustful, the Outsider

2006-09-05T16:08:00.000-07:00

Today in my Aymara class, I learned a very interesting word: kharisiri which roughly translates from Spanish to "the one who cuts the throat of an animal or person."

My question which instigated the presentation of this term and the subsequent myth was "how are foreign investigators seen by rural Aymara communities?"

Well...

There is a myth that explains how outsiders (or more appropriately, white people) are considered kharisiri...those who that cut out the cebo o grasa (fat) of the local people. According to the legend, if a local sees an white outsider who has no connection, no reason for being in the community it is likely that they have come to take the cebo, or some kind of the person's essence. If this is to happen, the individual can become very sick and die. When this happens and the local witnesses a strange presence they do not completely understand or even remember happening. Sometimes the outsider appears and suddenly transforms into an animal (dog, donkey, bird). Often the experience occurs, as if in a dream, and the local awakes abruptly in another location feeling disoriented and troubled.

Once the local starts becoming sick, the symptoms are presented with intensive sweating, fever, headache, indigestion, etc. Normally, the local has forgotten what caused the event to occur and they turn to the community's curado (relative to what we in the U.S. would understand as a witch doctor). The curado uses guinea pig or coca leaves to understand why the person is suffering.

The rural communities are certain that sick individual will not be saved in hospitals because the doctors do not understand how to cure this illness. Generally, the cure to the illness imposed by the kharisiri foreigner is to help the sick person gain weight. They are fed black lamb and different types of herbal teas.

My Aymara tutor explained that the myth came primarily from the suspicion of priests and other missionaries who would come into the communities to convert the populace to Christianity. He mentioned that if I am to work within the community, I must to so through trusted contacts. For sure, he noted, I will not be able to tape record my focus group discussions. It is also highly unlikely I will be able to take pictures of the local participants.

As I listened, I sat rather awestruck by the implications of the myth. Now, I am extremely glad that I chose to take the slower, more prudent route of putting my foot in the door here in the city of Puno. Through the next months the challenge will be to develop these trusted contacts that extend into the rural communities.

baila...let me see you dance baby.

2006-09-02T12:52:00.000-07:00

Last night Jerson, my house bro, invited me to join him in a going-away party for a Spanish friend who had been interning in tourism projects here in Puno. The party was fun and I met a lot of people! When you enter a party you greet everyone...once it started getting a bit busier it became a sort of receiving line. Guys greet each other with a handshake, girls greet each other with a "besito" kiss on the cheek, and guys greet girls with a "besito" as well. Initially, everyone was very subdued. Jerson joked that parties often start this way...he called it the "velatorio" period of the party becaues it's like being at a wake. Finally, people started eating the "piqueos" or snacks that were cooked by the Spanish hostess (I guess they can officially be called tapas), and drinking either rum with coke or pisco with sprite. Salsa and reggaeton music were played and people danced a bit off and on.

After a couple of hours, Jerson and his friends were getting a bit restless and wanted to go to the club to dance. Now, those of you who know me understand that I am not a big fan of clubs. I don't like tight spaces, being approached by strangers to dance, etc. So I asked to be dropped off at home as the group went to the club. They agreed, but were upset that I didn't want to dance. As we hailed a cab, they kept trying to convince me to go.

Turning up the block to our house, the following conversation insued (I have done you the pleasure of translating it to English):

Jerson: Come on Laura...we'll only stay for an hour! It'll be fun...just an hour I promise
Kike, Ursula: Yeah, yeah...come on Laura! We'll only stay for a bit
Me: er.........
Jerson: Here comes the house! 5...4....3...2....1! Too late! You're coming! Driver, to the club!
Kike, Ursula: Woohoo!!
Me: Alright, alright...but just an hour, right?
Everyone: Yes, yes...just for a little bit...

Three and half hours later, we were still having a blast! The club was so nice for a couple of reasons. First of all, it wasn't overwhelmingly packed. There was a lot of space to dance, sit, or just stand around and chat. We didn't spend much time doing the latter two options. It was a great mix of everything...salsa, tecno, reggaeton, cumbia, traditional andean music, and even Jon Bon Jovi! Another nice aspect was that we danced among ourselves and after a while some other people from the house party came and joined us. There was no need for me to fake being Argentine.

At one point, though, some friends of Jerson asked if I was his friend from Lima. "Yeah," he responded and he gave an address of a rich friend who lives in Lima. Hahaha...so now here people think I'm a wealth Limeñan! I was told my salsa dancing skills weren't too shabby. This helped me pull off being Latina. I even taught my friends to dance cuarteto! I guess at this point I must thank my coworkers at El Lago del Bosque for our dance activites...and wonderful moments shared in Jammers :)

Finally, at 4:30, Jerson and I got home and CRASHED! Supposedly we're going out tonight again...I think I should head home for a siesta!!

Aymara yatiña?

2006-08-29T13:58:00.000-07:00

Do you speak Aymara? I don't...yet. Today I had my first class on Aymara instruction focused on the alphabet and pronunciation of the letters. Aymara has 32 sounds and an alphabet developed from the Spanish pronunciation.

Most of the letters are equal to the Spanish pronunciation: a, ch, i, j, k, l, m, n, ñ, p, q, r, s, t, u,w, x, and y. Notice that there are only three vowels that are pronounced with roughly 4 sound variations.

The tricky part of Aymara is creating the breathing and skipping sounds represented by an additional "h" or " ' " respectively. It's really all about the placement of the letter on your tongue or throat. I am pleased to announce that my professor, Santiago, stated that I have perfect pronunciation! The "h" sound, as in "thantha" (old object or thing) is easy for me because it's similar to how we pronounce "the" in English. The use of the apostrophe is a bit more difficult. You kind of have to bounce between the letters as you say words, such as "p'akiña" (to break an object).

So that's what I'm working on right now. Later I get to learn words like "sarxarxapxañäni" (we are ready to leave for a trip). Oh, but you can also spell it like "sarjjarjjapjjañäni"...but the use of "x" is more linguistically economical.

On my way back from my class, I met a young British student who is teaching English in the small town of Chucuito (the picture below depicts the town's main plaza). On Thursday we are going to meet up and he is going to give me a tour of the area. He knows a lot as he has been translating tour brochures for the municipality.

Tomorrow's a holiday in Peru, but not for me! The lovely collection of decentralization legislation awaits me ever so patiently on my desk. I have to learn how to say "not so fun" in Aymara...

Mmmmmm...cow heart

2006-08-27T16:16:00.000-07:00

My first week is coming to a close here in Puno. I had a very relaxing Saturday with a trip to the local street market and shopping downtown. In the evening, I went out for dinner with three house-guests from Mexico, the US, and Japan. It was a very fun evening...though we struggled with the poor Japanese girl. She hardly speaks English and even less Spanish. She's been in Peru for two months studying the behavior of alpaca in accordance to what type of vegetation they eat. Yea...she gets a lot of interesting looks from the locals.

I enjoy the balance of my housing situation. On one hand, I am treated like a member of the family. The kids invite me out for meals and weekend parties. Jeny and I often sit and chat over breakfast. She has introduced me to typical cuisine. For example, this morning I had a very soupy rendition of oatmeal mixed with orange juice. It was very good...and I normally HATE oatmeal! On the other hand, I get to meet a lot of interesting tourists that stay for a day or two. After they go out on a daily excursion to the ruins or lake Titicaca, I can accompany them downtown for a meal or a drink. I am definitely not lonely, and that has been a nice change from the first week in Lima.

Today was also quite fun. Juan invited me to a bbq at his house. It was a bit different than the asados I am used to with my argentine friends. There was SO much food! Meat and veggies and salads and drinks and bread! My two favorite dishes were the salad made of apple, celery, and mayo and the best meat....cow heart. I know you're all thinking "GOO!" (or maybe just Wiggins hehehe) Seriously, seriously, it was fabulous! I arrived at around 12, the food was served between 2-3, and afterwards we played a typical family game called "sapo" or frog. I left around 5pm completely stuffed. The funny thing is, though, that I didn't eat that much. Since I have arrived in Puno a week ago, I haven't been able to eat a lot of food at once. At the high altitude, digestion takes a bit longer. But I'm not worried...I think the cow heart will hold me over for the night! :)

Puno...baby it's cold outside

2006-08-24T16:19:00.000-07:00

I HAVE ARRIVED!!!!! I have now settled in the place that I will call home for the next 9 months. Puno is just as beautiful, tranquile, colorful, and cold as I remember. My host family has welcomed me with open arms. Jeny and her children (ages 16, 22, 25...I'm horrible with names right now) welcome tourists into their home, but they have truly treated me as a member of their household and have ensured that I feel comfortable with them.

This morning I saw the GORGEOUS Casa del Corrigedor (see the photo below). Juan, my boss, and I sat down today to chat about the details of my work. I know he's going to see this blog and be very angry that I call him my boss. hehehe, lo siento Juan :) From the looks of things, I will be interning with the NGO Monday, Wednesday, and Friday in the city of Puno. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I will travel to the city of Chuquito (15 minute ride in combi) to take Aymara language and cultural classes. The rest of the week I will have time to work on my thesis. Additionally, I will be offering English "charlas" at the Universidad del Altiplano as well as to Jeny.

I've only encounter two unenjoyable realities of traveling to the sierras of Peru. First, it is REALLY COLD here. I'm talking brrrrrrrrrrrr. Showers are short, scarfs and gloves are the typical fashion, and I sleep under seven blankets. The sun is intense but it is still necessary to wear jackets and a layer or two extra at all times. Second, and this serves as a warning to all travelers: watch what you eat. I have been VERY lucky over the past few years of my travels, but today I was not that fortunate. Trying to enjoy a bit of food outside of the tourist zone, I ended up in the bathroom for a good hour. I will spare the details. After an herbal tea, the wonderful medication offered by the Mayo Clinic, lots of water, and rest I feel better. I learned my lesson. It's important to stay in the touristy areas because the food inspection is much better. A bit more expensive, but as they say in Spanish, vale la pena.

Hasta Luego Lima...Puno here I come!

2006-08-19T13:03:00.000-07:00

My stay in Lima has come to an end. I'm pleased to say that I was able to accomplish what I hoped within the past 10 days. I've developed the necessary contacts within the Catholic University, the US Embassy, the National Council on Decentralization, and a leading NGO on rural development. Additionally, I have gained a good understanding of the perspective in Lima towards the situation I'm about to encounter down in the sierras.

I am definitely looking forward to Puno for the obvious reasons of wanting to begin my work. At the same time, to be completely honest, I am not a fan of Lima.

So before I go, in honor of my dear friend Alvaro, I would like to present you with a list simply called "I'm not going to miss"...
-the contamination that is completely palpable
-the fear of being mugged or pick pocketed (I do attribute a bit of my paranoia to the security briefing at the US Embassy)
-the taxi driver's insanse driving
-the combi (bus) to the university...you have to experience it yourself to understand
-seeing the sun only ONCE during my entire time here
-being slightly electrocuted every time I touch the hot water faucet in the shower
-trying to interpret what our Finnish housemate is saying...seriously, no one understands him and he won't slow down or shut up for that matter!
-having to take a taxi or a combi to get anywhere

Tomorrow I leave for Puno with my NGO coordinator, Juan Villegas by bus. He has been attending a conference here in Lima and so we planned to travel together. The trip will be split in two days. First, I will ride from Lima to Arequipa overnight (roughly 15 hours). In Arequipa we will stay with Juan's sister and I will have a chance to play "tourist" in the beautiful city center. On Tuesday we'll head out for the five hour trip to Puno.

Once I'm settled in Puno later next week I will post an update!

Visit to the United States Fortress...I mean Embassy

2006-08-16T13:26:00.000-07:00

Having lived in Washington, D.C. during college, I always enjoyed walks down Embassy Row. The architecture of the embassies is truly a beautiful site to see. I think it is safe to say that this in not the case for the U.S. Embassy in Lima, Peru.

In 1993, Sendero Luminoso (The Shining Path) terrorist group car bombed the former U.S. Embassy. At the time it was located near the Plaza de Armas (where the Presidential Palace is located). After the attack, the U.S. relocated on the edge of the city and took the opportunity to build up a fortress that screams "don't even dare bomb this baby."

This morning I arrived at the Embassy for a security briefing. Overall security was very tight and I was escorted through the back hallways into the Cultural Affairs Office. There I was introduced to CA Officer, Paul Degler. We had a very nice chat. He beat me to Peru by only two weeks, and was very excited (though completely clueless) about the region where I will do my work.

After our chat, I was sent up to the security briefing. I sat in a room with, a DEA official, one State rep, two computer specialist contractors, and two marines.

Additionally, a very friendly gentleman presented himself and his wife. He said he was the Embassy's defense attache. As it turns out, he and I had actually met in D.C. at an election conference held at George Washington University in February. At the conference we just happened to sit next to each other and I had told him that I was a finalist for the Fulbright. He had been attending the seminar to learn a bit about Peruvian politics in preparation move to Lima to start his post.
...small world.

The security briefing presented information that was relatively boring. The process and the whole environment it presented, though, was extremely fascinating. I was enthralled by the security protection systems that is provided in Embassy staff houses as well as the Emergency Preparedness Planning. Each house has a safehaven with reinforced steel doors!!!

While I didn't get a cool security card (or reinforced doors for that matter), I'm excited to say that I am counted in as part of the Embassy community! I even got invited to join them in the marine house happy hours hehehe. It'd be a bit of a trip, but it's the thought that counts :)

Brrrrrr!

2006-08-15T08:40:00.000-07:00

So a quick lesson for those of you who are geographically challenged. Currently, south of the equator, it is winter. In Lima the temperature is somewhere between 50-55 degrees Fahrenheit during the day and gets down to 40 degrees at night. Now, that's all good and dandy when you have heating in your house. In my case, without such a lovely amenity, it's kind of uncomfortable.

Now, moving from geography to anatomy class. What typically happens to the human body when it encounters a drastic change in temperature. If your response was "develops cold symptoms" you get a passing grade. Yes, folks, it's August and I am bundled up with a scarf, tissue paper, and decongestants in Lima, Peru...can't wait until next week when I am in the mountains and the evening temperature is a lovely 20 degrees.

2006-08-13T09:12:00.000-07:00

"oh, but I thought you were from Europe!"

There was definitely a sense of disappointment in his voice when I broke the news that I lived in Argentina. I actually pulled off a convincing accent and got this Peruvian guy to think I was from Argentina. Hey I didn't lie...I did actually live in Argentina (I just happened not to mention the length of time). Yup, from Cordoba, capital. Of course I look European, I told him. My ancestors are from Germany like a lot of Argentine immigrants (did I mention this guy was really disappointed that I wasn't from somewhere more exotic like England or Sweden?)

"and your friends that are here with you, they are European, right?"

¡Si! I was enjoying a night out in the discotecas/boliches with my current housemates and their friends: 3 Spaniards, 1 Israeli, 1 German, 1 Canadian, 2 Peruvians, 1 Fin, and me the token American...I mean Argentine :)

"so how do you all communicate?"

We all speak Spanish! Well, except the Israeli...he seems to not even want to try, but it's okay because that way I can keep up with my English.

I'm not a fan of being picked up in clubs, so if it's going to happen while I'm abroad I might as well have a little fun, right? :)

Same time zone, different season

2006-08-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

¡Hola desde Lima, Peru!

I have just taken a shower and had a cup of coffee...so I think it is fair to say that I have settled in my new home. True from the start, this trip is definitely an adventure. I got to the airport very early with my mom yesterday afternoon. After saying goodbye in the gorgeous A terminal of Reagan National, I went through security in the B terminal.

Because my parents trained me well in checking and rechecking my flight status I noticed that my trip to Miami had been "cancelled". A tad bit on edge, I approached the AA desk for the earlier Miami departure and crossed my fingers. The attendant actually whispered to me that he was only able to switch about 10 people on the earlier flight and sent me running (literally) out to the baggage claim to pick up my luggage and recheck it in at the AA desk.

After a lovely airport jog with my not-so-light suitcases, I was rebooked on the earlier flight, my luggage was checked, I returned through the security check-in, and sat in row 7. In the end, the plane left only 5 minutes before my originally scheduled flight.

So, the only other impressive highlight worth mentioning was the fact that Hulk Cogan (sp?) was in the Miami airport. The man stands out like a sore thumb on stereoids.

Okay, I need to unpack and get to know my surroundings a bit. I must say, it is nice needing to wear my winter jacket again:)

Pre-Departure...Withstanding the heat of D.C.

2006-08-02T08:43:00.000-07:00

HACE CALOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So I think it is fair to say that I'm really looking forward to the cold weather that awaits me in the mountains of Peru. Right now I'm waiting to have my visa cleared by the Embassy of Peru in Washington, D.C. It's a lovely 95 degrees with humidity "a full".

My flight leaves from Reagan National on Tuesday, August 8th and I arrive in Lima at the crack of dawn (or before???). I've been told to look for a guy who will have my name on a white board in the airport. As of now, I plan to stay in Lima for roughly 2-3 weeks to get things done with my contacts at the Catholic University of Lima as well as the National Council on Decentralization.

If you'd like to see the casita that I will be staying at for the first weeks, check out their website : http://www.geocities.com/miki_dg

Before the Adventure Begins

2006-05-04T11:22:00.000-07:00

Hello to everyone,

As many of you know, I am about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime...(yeah, it's cheesy, but so, so true!)

I will be using this blog site to keep track of my daily experience for a couple of reasons. First, this is probably the best way to keep my parents from having continuous sleep deprivation as they worry about me being Puno. Secondly, I will make my entries "breve, bonito, and barato" (short and sweet) for the purpose of my professors and classmates to learn a bit more of my daily activities and insights. Finally, I offer this opportunity for anyone who has an interest to ask questions about the Peruvian Aymara society and open up a forum to develop cross-cultural communication with locals in Puno.

Alrightie...short and sweet as promised....Peru, here I come!