Ecuador

Sarah’s guidebook warned that there might be some “slight of hand” at the Equator. That the cool tricks they showed us (balancing an egg on a nail, water spinning down the drain in both directions, etc.) might not have been entirely genuine.

Honestly, I didn’t care; I was having a blast. I eagerly volunteered to test things out, and when it came time, I plopped my feet on either side of the line, proving I could be in two places at once.

It wasn’t too far off, really.

My whole week in Ecuador was kind of like that — straddling my two worlds: indulging in American comforts, while moving among Latin American realities.

Well, for one, I ate very, very well. I mean it was amazing. There was BBQ (with corn bread!), Mexican (with real guacamole), peanut butter, puffy Cheetos, homemade cookies, spinach salad, and vegetables — lots and lots of vegetables.

And oh, Oh! A club sandwich!! I could have cried. Made with real turkey breast, three slices of bread, bacon — oh thank you, Jesus, bacon!! — lettuce, tomato and mayo, it was positively decadent in all its sandwich glory.

But that was just the food.

I used the dollar, had hot showers, spoke English for hours at a time, rode in legit accordion buses, watched the Disney Channel, decided what to eat when and ate as much or as little as I wanted without offending anyone, and slept rooster-free — all with three great friends from the US.

For a week, I almost felt like me again.

Almost.

Perhaps there was no slight of hand, but despite my creature comforts and company, I wasn’t back home. No matter how bad I wanted to be.

It broke my heart to see so many children working in the street instead of at school. People tried to cheat me, and I had to barter. The catcalls were just as gross but in better English. The “Chinese food” was terrible. I got sick. And eventually, my friends got on a plane to go home.

And there I was, back on my own in Latin America.

But you know what? It was totally worth it. We saw some pretty amazing things and spent time with great people that had nothing to do with my life in the United States or the Peace Corps.

Like, for example, I went zip lining. ME, ZIP LINING. In the cloud forest. Right after we hiked to some killer waterfalls. We also sat on top of a volcano. That’s right, in a crater lake. You could see the bubbles and everything. And for a few days, we didn’t worry about bills, school, tri-annual reports, PEPFAR meetings, moving, or starting a new job. We just kind of enjoyed each other, while hanging out in the middle of the Earth.





Waterfalls!

Me in two places at once

Sarah, Molly and I in front of the crater lake.

A shoeshine boy working in Quito’s Old City plaza.

The club sandwich

Screw that noise. I'm going to Ecuador.

Lately, I've been a little mopey and stressed out. I love what I do, who I work with and where I am, but as I mentioned before, I think I need a vacation.

Lucky for me, I have amigas who hear my desperate pleas from across the equator. Two great friends are coming to visit me this week to hang around my site and go to my town's anniversary (big deal here). But come Friday, we're heading to — wait for it — Ecuador!

It will be my first honest-to-goodness, mini-break-from-Peace-Corps vacation since I entered, and I'm kind of freaking out.

A chronicle of inevitable adventures to follow.

CHEVERE* (Community Health Volunteer Educational Reader)

Four times a year, PC Peru's Community Health Program puts out a newsletter. It's exactly what it sounds like — a hodge-podge of success and horror stories about working with health in Peru. This time around, the powers that be chose me to help put it together with one other volunteer (shout-out Stacey!).

As much as I love judging condom relays, it was nice to take a break and had a great time cramped in a hotel room over my mac, redesigning the newsletter and editing stories with Stacey. It was the first time in 9 months I'd been able to do something truly journalism-y, and, I don't know, it just felt good to be in my element. I wish I could post the whole issue, but I'm afraid of any bureaucratic repercussions. :-/ But I'm pretty sure it's safe to post the cover.

For your enjoyment:

Our 'Working with Youth' issue

* Chevere is slang for "cool" in Peruvian Spanish.

What have you been up to? Update

I know you're probably writing your senator right now and asking "WHY exactly is the US government paying $80,000 for this chick to ride donkeys and frolic on the beach in Peru??", but in my defense, here's a quick update on what I've been up to lately work-wise.

Our teen group, PALMA, is doing well. We have about 10 teens who are active with 5-10 who filter in and out.

Recap for those who don't know what I'm talking about: every month the teens have two meetings with us in the health post — one is an info session on some life skill, and the other is an activity in the community that puts into practice or reinforces what they've already learned.
So far we've covered teen pregnancy, love and relationships, small businesses, HIV, communication, and "healthy lifestyles" (nutrition, exercise, hygiene and water purification); and we've taken a trip to the beach, made magazine-bead bracelets to sell, held a volleyball tournament with youth and their moms, and watched two movies (Juno and Philadelphia). Coming up, we're tackling drug addiction and alcoholism, reforestation, trash and recycling, vegetable gardens, and professional/technician career options.

They gain points for every activity and info session they attend, plus bonus points for coming on-time, cleaning up, helping to teach a session or doing additional activities. We finish up in December with a huge dance and ceremony for the teens, where they all get certificates (big deal here), and those with the most points get prizes.

Every time I start to think that my workload is getting heavy and that maybe PALMA wasn't that great of an idea (support from my counterparts has died off, and I'm the only one keeping it going), I think about all the cool kids I've met, and how much I've learned from all my terrible, truly humiliating, and typically verbal mistakes.

Three teens in our PALMA group making a radio spot about HIV.

Our PEPFAR, HIV-prevention project, PRO-PRE Pampas is slowly devouring me whole — in a good way. We have two youth health promoter groups in my district, one in each high school, with roughly 30 teens serving as peer educators for HIV prevention.

Like PALMA, the youth promoters have two meetings a month: one is an educational session where the teens take turns teaching more in-depth info about HIV and sexual health education, and the other is reserved for planning the activities for that month and dividing up responsibilities. They've been really active so far: planning skits, parades and radio spots that go out over the town's loud speakers. The teens have a simple uniform of jeans and a red shirt, identifying themselves as health promoters in the global fight against aids.

The whole project is incredibly time-consuming, but it's by far and away my favorite part of life here. I'm so proud of the energy and enthusiasm the teens have. And even more impressed with the support we as a project have from teachers and parents, who sacrifice the little free time they have to help us, if only because they believe that things really can change for the better. It's humbling.

Our community health promoters (not HIV-specific) have literally tripled in number. So ... rock on. Karen, my counterpart, and I made a new work plan for the health promotion program that included finding additional health promoters to work with a handful of families in every zone of our town.

The promoters are going to be training the families in health themes like water purification, nutrition and waste management. Promoters will work one theme at a time, starting with an educational session and following it up by a series of house visits to ensure the skills and behaviors be adopted and continued by the family. The program will hopefully continue with other themes, such as malaria and dengue prevention, and leading to perhaps a latrine or improved-kitchen project.

One of our health promoters working in the community.

Other projects include singing "If You're Happy and You Know It" off-key an hour a week with kindergartners; co-teaching an English class in the community with a local professor; editing the PC-Peru's Health Program quarterly publication, CHEVERE; pretending I know anything about animal husbandry while putting together a co-op duck-raising project with a local farmer; reinforcing the stereotype that gringos can't dance; and talking about the weather.

So, I guess in short, I need a vacation, and you should come visit.