The Rural Traveler

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...

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.

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

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

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

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

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...

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??

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!

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

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.

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?

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

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

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!

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

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!

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.

"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

¡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:)