The second I put my foot on the curb, I hear her.
"Pampas? .. Pampas?" She nearly shouts as she takes my elbow.
There are 3 faded cars parked along my paradero*, but she leads me to the middle one, spotted with rust and back doors you can't open anymore from the outside.
She holds onto my arm until I'm fully crammed into the backseat. I'm struck my the intense heat of the sun cutting through the windows and radiating off of the other passengers' tightly situated bodies.
I try and roll down the window, but it doesn't budge. Outside she scans the street with a concentrated gaze. A flash of recognition and she's back at it. "Pampas! Pampas!" She guides another passenger to squish in beside us, taking the final seat situated directly behind the stick shift in the front seat.
"Completo!" she shouts and reaches out her hand to take a Sol from the driver. He starts the ignition, and I feel the floorboards shake beneath my flip-flops. The car jerks forward. I turn and watch the corner grow smaller. I see the woman putting yet another passenger in another car that has suddenly appeared and then disappear complete as we turn the corner.
We drive away, and I wonder who she is.
Is she married? Does she have children?
She looks in her mid-60s, but she could be much younger. Most women at her age don't seek jobs outside the home. I ask myself what could possibly drive her to come out and work with such fervor Monday through Saturday, all day, every week.
Sometimes I romanticize.
Her husband grew sick with leukemia, and she must work to pay the hospital bills.
She never married and now is left to make her own way.
She is raising her grandchildren alone while her daughter works in Lima. Every luca she brings in goes to pay for school fees and uniforms.
Really, any of these scenarios could be possible. For what could motivate a woman to step into a traditionally masculine role in a machismo society? To work so fiercely and for so long? If it is not poverty — or worse, desperation?
How long has she been doing it? I wonder. How long will she continue?
*paradero: bus stop
Lost in Translation - Documents
A literal translation of a letter* requesting snacks for a youth group meeting.
"YEAR OF THE UNION AGAINST THE EXTERNAL CRISIS"
Fields of Hospital, 20 of March of 2009
Of. No. 004-2009-PALGA-F.H.-Tumbes
Mr: Freddy Rosales Reto
Mayor of the Municipality of the district of Fields of Hospital.
From: Robyn Correll
Volunteer of Body of Peace, Community Health
Subject: I ask refreshments
I have the honor of directing myself to you in order to express my fraternal greeting at once to make your acquaintance that in meeting the 3rd day of April those responsible for the Project of Adolescents in Leadership with Goals of Action that consists of Body of Peace, Center of Health of Fields of Hospital and the Ecotourism Association, we remember to accomplish a workshop concerning "HIV and AIDS," Saturday, the 3rd of April in the location the Center of Health of Fields of Hospital at 9:30 a.m. with all the adolescents of the districts of Fields of Hospital and St. John of the Virgen, for which we ask you 35 refreshments.
It is a favor, the opportunity to express our special consideration and personal esteem.
Attentively,
Robyn Correll
Volunteer of Body of Peace, Community Health
*Nothing is done, given, lent or happening unless there is a formal letter like this copied three times, presented to all involved parties, signed and stamped by each individual with their personally made stamps (note: I even have one. It's awesome).
PALGA: Project of Adolescents in Leadership with Goals of Action
"YEAR OF THE UNION AGAINST THE EXTERNAL CRISIS"
Fields of Hospital, 20 of March of 2009
Of. No. 004-2009-PALGA-F.H.-Tumbes
Mr: Freddy Rosales Reto
Mayor of the Municipality of the district of Fields of Hospital.
From: Robyn Correll
Volunteer of Body of Peace, Community Health
Subject: I ask refreshments
I have the honor of directing myself to you in order to express my fraternal greeting at once to make your acquaintance that in meeting the 3rd day of April those responsible for the Project of Adolescents in Leadership with Goals of Action that consists of Body of Peace, Center of Health of Fields of Hospital and the Ecotourism Association, we remember to accomplish a workshop concerning "HIV and AIDS," Saturday, the 3rd of April in the location the Center of Health of Fields of Hospital at 9:30 a.m. with all the adolescents of the districts of Fields of Hospital and St. John of the Virgen, for which we ask you 35 refreshments.
It is a favor, the opportunity to express our special consideration and personal esteem.
Attentively,
Robyn Correll
Volunteer of Body of Peace, Community Health
*Nothing is done, given, lent or happening unless there is a formal letter like this copied three times, presented to all involved parties, signed and stamped by each individual with their personally made stamps (note: I even have one. It's awesome).
Lost in translation - random encounter
A literal translation of an average encounter on the streets of Tumbes.
A: Good morning.
B: Good morning. How do you go?
A: Here we are. And you?
B: Advancing ... advancing.
A: It's hot.
B: Yes. Big sun. Big sun.
A: It burns.
B: Where do you go?
A: Over there no more. And you?
B: Over here.
A: Well ... luck.
B: Yeah, in the same manner.
A: Later
B: Later
A: Good morning.
B: Good morning. How do you go?
A: Here we are. And you?
B: Advancing ... advancing.
A: It's hot.
B: Yes. Big sun. Big sun.
A: It burns.
B: Where do you go?
A: Over there no more. And you?
B: Over here.
A: Well ... luck.
B: Yeah, in the same manner.
A: Later
B: Later
Reconnect
Three months after being at site, everyone in the training class gets back together for an in-service training conference called Reconnect. Four days of catching up, trading pictures, hanging out and jumping through the beautiful waves of Pacasmayo, a small beach town along Peru's desert coast.
I know; we have it rough.
But the week went great. It was great to see what everyone has been up to since we swore to serve and defend the constitution and scattered to the far reaches of Peru.
We all had to present on our first three months at site: the results of our diagnostic and potential project ideas. We each had 10 minutes, and I have to say, after it was all over, I felt a little ... well ... overwhelmed.
During each presentation, I filled pages in my tiny notebook with to-do lists and good ideas to bring back to site — of things I'd forgotten I wanted to do or hadn't even thought about. It energized and exhausted me all at the same time. And above my head hung this huge, daunting question challenging every scribble: How can this be sustainable?"
See, there's the crux. If it weren't for that whole sustainability thing, I'd have this development work thing down. But I could do an amazing job for two years, work entirely by myself, make a lot of things happen, and then? I would have spent two years a continent away from Chipotle, and for what? As Linda Richmond might say: "Bupkiss."
But I digress.
Something that really hit me hard was just how unique our experiences really are. Even within the individual programs — Health, Environment, Water and Sanitation — there's a huge difference in what each community needs, wants and is willing to do. Not to mention the challenges. Machismo on the hot coast, alcoholism in the cold Andes. While my photos are full of tank tops and palm trees, others have snow caps and colorful shawls. I'm humming cumbia and singing my Spanish; meanwhile my friends are dancing to huayno and throwing out words in Quechua.
We might be in the same country, but we're in very different worlds.
But even still, the energy and support we had all throughout training is still there, which is cool, you know? It's nice to know that if I ever fall, I have 45 people to help me get back up.
So, to all my beloved friends climbing mountains and riding in rickety buses to read this (Sarita, Derek and Jason included): I love you guys. Peru 12 – Represent!
I know; we have it rough.
But the week went great. It was great to see what everyone has been up to since we swore to serve and defend the constitution and scattered to the far reaches of Peru.
We all had to present on our first three months at site: the results of our diagnostic and potential project ideas. We each had 10 minutes, and I have to say, after it was all over, I felt a little ... well ... overwhelmed.
During each presentation, I filled pages in my tiny notebook with to-do lists and good ideas to bring back to site — of things I'd forgotten I wanted to do or hadn't even thought about. It energized and exhausted me all at the same time. And above my head hung this huge, daunting question challenging every scribble: How can this be sustainable?"
See, there's the crux. If it weren't for that whole sustainability thing, I'd have this development work thing down. But I could do an amazing job for two years, work entirely by myself, make a lot of things happen, and then? I would have spent two years a continent away from Chipotle, and for what? As Linda Richmond might say: "Bupkiss."
But I digress.
Something that really hit me hard was just how unique our experiences really are. Even within the individual programs — Health, Environment, Water and Sanitation — there's a huge difference in what each community needs, wants and is willing to do. Not to mention the challenges. Machismo on the hot coast, alcoholism in the cold Andes. While my photos are full of tank tops and palm trees, others have snow caps and colorful shawls. I'm humming cumbia and singing my Spanish; meanwhile my friends are dancing to huayno and throwing out words in Quechua.
We might be in the same country, but we're in very different worlds.
But even still, the energy and support we had all throughout training is still there, which is cool, you know? It's nice to know that if I ever fall, I have 45 people to help me get back up.
So, to all my beloved friends climbing mountains and riding in rickety buses to read this (Sarita, Derek and Jason included): I love you guys. Peru 12 – Represent!
Sad news.
Please say a prayer for this volunteer and her family. :( Sad day for PCVs everywhere.
Death of Peace Corps Volunteer in Benin
The State Department was saddened by the news of the death of a Peace Corps Volunteer stationed in Benin, West Africa. Peace Corps Headquarters in Washington has notified the volunteer’s next of kin. The U.S. Embassy in Cotonou has dispatched the Regional Security Officer and other personnel to the village where the volunteer was stationed, located several hours away from the capital. The Government of Benin has expressed condolences to the U.S. government and pledged full cooperation and support in this matter.
The State Department expresses our deepest condolences to the family of the volunteer and the Peace Corps.
Source: http://www.state.gov/r/pa/prs/ps/2009/03/120305.htm
Death of Peace Corps Volunteer in Benin
Robert Wood
Acting Department Spokesman, Office of the Spokesman
Bureau of Public Affairs
Washington, DC
March 12, 2009
The State Department was saddened by the news of the death of a Peace Corps Volunteer stationed in Benin, West Africa. Peace Corps Headquarters in Washington has notified the volunteer’s next of kin. The U.S. Embassy in Cotonou has dispatched the Regional Security Officer and other personnel to the village where the volunteer was stationed, located several hours away from the capital. The Government of Benin has expressed condolences to the U.S. government and pledged full cooperation and support in this matter.
The State Department expresses our deepest condolences to the family of the volunteer and the Peace Corps.
Source: http://www.state.gov/r/pa/prs/ps/2009/03/120305.htm
PhD in Yourself
Sometimes — not often — I stop for a moment to ponder.
I sit in the sand or lie in my bed, and I think about the rooster outside my door. The hard, straw mattress beneath my back. My host mother's wide, sincere smile.
I think about the house I grew up in and the garden outside. The sound of the creek across the street and the feel of my cat, Sandy's, fur as I run my hand along her arched back.
I think about fighting with my sister and laughing five minutes later. The feel of the computer keys as I write an e-mail to my parents. The urgent clicks of a story I don't want to lose appearing on the screen.
I think about the words of Obama — our president — in Dreams from my Father, and the stomach-twisting confusion that jolts me as I, a white female, want desperately to understand race from a multi-racial male perspective but know I never can.
I think about countries like Croatia, Lesotho, Guatemala and Sri Lanka. The people there. What they're like, and if I'll ever get to meet them.
I think about "Say" by John Mayer and "Pensando en Tí" by Rakim y Ken.
I think about about Rick in Casablanca. Pam and Jim from The Office. About finding love and bliss. And then losing it.
I think about the taste of a perfectly made PB & J cut into quarters. And then a tall glass of cold milk after licking the left-over cookie dough from the spoon.
I think about my grandpa. And how his eyes laugh.
I think about where I am. Where I could be. Where I'll go. Where I've been.
And after all that. After going from Point A around the world and back again to find Point Y, I think about how interesting life can be.
I sit in the sand or lie in my bed, and I think about the rooster outside my door. The hard, straw mattress beneath my back. My host mother's wide, sincere smile.
I think about the house I grew up in and the garden outside. The sound of the creek across the street and the feel of my cat, Sandy's, fur as I run my hand along her arched back.
I think about fighting with my sister and laughing five minutes later. The feel of the computer keys as I write an e-mail to my parents. The urgent clicks of a story I don't want to lose appearing on the screen.
I think about the words of Obama — our president — in Dreams from my Father, and the stomach-twisting confusion that jolts me as I, a white female, want desperately to understand race from a multi-racial male perspective but know I never can.
I think about countries like Croatia, Lesotho, Guatemala and Sri Lanka. The people there. What they're like, and if I'll ever get to meet them.
I think about "Say" by John Mayer and "Pensando en Tí" by Rakim y Ken.
I think about about Rick in Casablanca. Pam and Jim from The Office. About finding love and bliss. And then losing it.
I think about the taste of a perfectly made PB & J cut into quarters. And then a tall glass of cold milk after licking the left-over cookie dough from the spoon.
I think about my grandpa. And how his eyes laugh.
I think about where I am. Where I could be. Where I'll go. Where I've been.
And after all that. After going from Point A around the world and back again to find Point Y, I think about how interesting life can be.
The Things I Miss (and don´t miss) Month 6
This week marks my 6-month anniversary of my time in Peru *happy dance*. As such, I thought it was about time I updated the "Things I miss" list. For a frame of reference, feel free to check out "Things I miss: Month 1."
As always, keep in mind: family, friends and beloved pets are a given.
Things I miss (6 months down, 21 to go):
As always, keep in mind: family, friends and beloved pets are a given.
Things I miss (6 months down, 21 to go):
- Diversity in food, people, everything
- Diet Dr. Pepper (...yep, still miss that one)
- Experimenting with cooking
- Feeling really, genuinely healthy
- NOT being surrounded by machismo
- Going to the movies
- Seeing Obama's first year in office
- Church on Sunday mornings with my family
- Being up-to-date on world news
- A good cup of coffee and the NYT crossword
- Clean water straight from the tap
Things I don´t:
- Having to drive everywhere
- Being constantly connected with technology
- Inflexible daily routines
- Owning a bunch of stuff I don't need
- Crowded shopping malls
- Snowy, wet coldness
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