Fiestas Patrias Vacation: Experiencing another part of Peru in two weeks

First Up: Tambogrande, Piura and a Smidge of Ecuador

It continues to amaze me how diverse Peru is, within each of its regions; different forms of dress, language, physical features and customs. The first week of my vacation I was more than ready to jump on that 15-hour bus with Sister Maria Laura and my friend, Jeny, to Piura. How exciting- my first vacation! The ride wasn’t too bad, with its semi-cama seats, snacks, drinks, meals and videos. Throw in some time for sleeping and I was set! Luck have it, Sister Marleny arranged for us to get a ride to the house in Tambogrande. From our views from the car, we got to see what makes up the majority of Piura: the chakras and produce (and lots and lots of sacks of limes!) What a lovely change from the combis, gas and overall noise of Lima.

The Sisters’ house in Tambogrande is lovely, big with a garden in the center of the house where you can lounge in a hammock to take in the sun (it’s sunny everyday!) and with a huge backyard full of pomegranate, mango and lime trees. Though life there is much different than here; most of the time I spent in the house, I never saw any of the Sisters. They are busy running around and serving the community in all the different campos. The second day there, Sister Marleny took us to visit many of the Fe y Alegria schools in the countryside’s. In the car, we bounced like Conejos on the rough, dirt roads as we made our way up the mountain, seeing a dozen or so schools- ranging from basic one-brick buildings’ to schools that taught agriculture, complimented with organic plots, a part that created fertilized dirt, a system for irrigation to use less water for plants and even barn to raise cuy (guinea pig)! It was great seeing all the different schools and even meeting some students.

The views were amazing. I think I took pictures of almost every animal that we passed. We were invited to an all natural, home cooked lunch of mote con queso de cabra (corn with goat cheese).

After, as I took pictures of all their animals, they smiled and laughed at me as I used the excuse, “I’m like a Japanese tourist.” To me, donkeys pulling carts, herds of sheep and baby goats were exotic!

I loved Tambogrande, a small town where you could view the entire city from El Mirador, left to right, north to south. And I can’t complain about it being sunny all the time. I even got to experience the señor who has taken it onto himself to play his radio and make his announcement on speakerphone at around 6 every morning. I could imagine myself serving in Tambogrande, except for the crazy hot weather. Even in winter, the sun ironed down and we were sweating! I can’t imagine how it is in its warm season!

So my highlights and major happenings of this week were:

-Seeing the Fe y Alegrias in the beautiful campo settings, as well as the river house
-Trying the Algarrobina drink- yummy! (Algarrobina is a syrup like substance made from the Black Carob tree that people put in drinks). We also saw the oldest Algarrobina tree called “El Rey” that is 100 years old!
-Being called Keiko (past President Alberto Fujimori’s daughter, who is running for president for 2011)by everyone when we went to the market in Tambogrande
-The hours and hours spent on buses (seemed like 50% of our trip)
-Going to the border town of Macara, Ecuador and simply walking across the border, without showing anything, only answering “SI” when the guards asked us if we were “paseando” and later Loja, Ecuador. Only to be told when we tried to enter back into Peru that we had entered “illegally,” the first guards laughing at us, brushing it off because we girls were simply just silly and were not doing anything shady. We had no idea because when we walked past our first day, there was no office or anything we could see to get stamped. However, the second security threatening us that we did something terrible and threatening me, putting me on the “list” for if I did anything a second time. Apparently, it would have been ok if we had just stayed in Macara instead of going to Loja. Haha.
-The way that people spoke like they were singing their words in Piura.

Check out my pictures at: http://picasaweb.google.com/107425425446859607474/FirstWeekOfFiestasPatriasVacation?feat=directlink

Visits to Dr. Tony's

No matter how often, or for how long you go, Dr. Tony's, Hogar San Francisco de Asis, is always such a delight! I love how it always welcomes you; complimented by delighted holas and hugs. I told them I would visit at least once a month. I made it back there four times so far (counting the quick one-hour visit). Though they reminded me I missed May. Haha. The last time I went was with Nikhil at the end of July which was really nice. I love telling people about the Hogar! It is definitely one of the most precious experiences I've had here in Peru and am so glad to be able to share it.

There are always new faces, volunteers and kids, but it always feels so nice and familiar. I love seeing the kids again, and seeing how they are improving, and changing. I have ones that I made stronger connections with and it is always fun catching up with them. Most of the older ones, especially the older girls, do a lot in the house. They are really lovely. They do a lot in the house; help the cooks in the kitchen with meals, bring food to the ones who are confined to their beds, take care of the younger kids and a great many more little things.

Though, at times, there is sad news as well. I remember talking with my roomies at the Hogar, Cristina and Rachel, about how it was amazing the amount of jokes, happiness and hope there was at Dr. Tony's, despite the many infirmities, disabilities and everyday struggles. On the first few days, when you see and meet all the kids, some of their medical conditions are easily apparent, like the severe burn victims; but after awhile, you don’t even notice it. It is simply a house full people from all over Peru, brought together to the Hogar in Chaclacayo, who smile, laugh and love together. Most importantly, there is support and acceptance, it is a place where everyone can find their niche and fit in. I am continually amazed at how awesome the Hogar is.

At first, when kids come to the Hogar, many of them part from their parents, or the guardians who bring them, in tears or close to tears. But in little time, they are completely fine and the Hogar is like their home. I think it is mostly the kids themselves who help with the new ones to adjust, since they have been through it themselves. Even the littlest ones have impressed me with their advice. I remember one little boy telling a little girl that she didn’t have to cry and miss her mom so much because ‘She had lots of mamitas here,’ a house full of them in fact. Everyone calls the two cooks, who have been at the Hogar since its conception, Irma and Clotilde, mamita. There are mothers in the kitchen, in the hall outside the rooms, in the classroom at the house; in the therapy room; there’s not a fault of mamitas. In Peru, many people are called mamita, an affectionate term here.

I remember that little girl constantly needing to be assured that I was there, always asking for me when I wasn't with her, asking where I would be sleeping at night, asking where another volunteer was, where were they going, when they would be back. Now, instead of the quick tears ready to flow and all the insecurities, that same little girl is all smiles and can fend for her own and than some, if need be. Instead of crying when I say goodbye, she gives me a big smile and tells me goodbye. It's so great to see how these kids change! And so fast! It's fun to see the development of each kid. Every time I go there are changes...

Was planning to visit the Hogar tomorrow but am stuck in the house with a cold. A bit sad since I haven't been there for awhile and told the girls I'd be visiting this Sunday. I guess I will have to save my visit for another time! In Peru you always have to be up for plans changing. I guess I've lucked out that I was never a person who had to plan every little thing; it’s important to be up for anything that comes up, be aware that things never start on time... So next tentative plan: visiting the Hogar next weekend!

Pack of Puppies!

This house can never be boring; there is always something to liven it up. One morning last week, someone left three puppies on our front door. They were newborns, not even old enough to open their eyes; squiggly, helpless, hairless little bundles, whimpering and wriggling around the box. As soon as Magda said we had a surprise in the entranceway, Sheila ran to see; delightedly picking up one of the puppies from the box. The puppy, a Boxer, was antsy and looking for food. With a bowl of milk, Sheila began dipping her finger in milk and offering it to the puppy who sucked it up, possibly eating the first meal of its life. It was such a precious moment.

Sheila begged Magda to keep them; but, sadly, we couldn't.

Sheila has this maternal tugging at her heartstrings whenever she sees a pregnant woman, baby, or baby animals. She craves to care for things. She touches the bellies of pregnant women she doesn't know, plays with babies who are perched on the backs of mothers during mass, sleeps with three dolls in her bed and cradles our dog Pucca in her arms. The generosity of her heart is enormous even though her own has been hurt so much. Whenever she sees someone begging or a very elderly person on the street, she comments on how sad it is. She knows because she has lived it.

The puppies are gone but her desire to care for things is not. Though in many ways she seems a child herself, she is most definitely a mother first; always wondering how her children are, always having this idea she must save up money to send to them. It really amazes me the generosity of people who hardly have anything themselves. Living in this community in Chorillos is really teaching me about how communities look out for each other, care for one another, and making me think of the everyday little things I can do to help.

Happy (Belated) Dia del Campesino!

(Belated) Farmer's Day!

This week in art class we celebrated this day, on June 24th, by making campesino puppets!

Peru's Markets

El Mercado

Camino hasta el Mercado
Inundation of sounds, sights, a feast for the eyes And I finally take time to take it all in;
Each vehicle with its distinct sonido
Impatient honks of cars
Continuous belling of the vendedor selling plátanos, naranjas, limones; speakers in the background, his wagon of goods attached, pausing at corners
Warning honk of motos whizzing past intersections,
Whistles, catcalls, holas
Each has its own special sound.
Vendedores wearing colorful mantels, older women in their layers of skirts, wools, bright shirts and hats
Calling out “Mamita, que vas a comprar?”
Me, pondering what to buy,
Stalls with produce plucked that morning, still covered in earth
Fruit stands like art, hues of reds, greens, purples, oranges, yellows- and shades in between
Vibrant and fresh, attracting flies
Buzzing around, people, couples strolling, busy shoppers weaving through crowds, tiny ones sucking sugar cane, eating chifles and riding plastic bikes
Senores lounging, gossiping around the market,
Vendors eating their lunches out of plastic Tupperware,
Eating fruit from their own stands; tantalizing flavors.
Scraggly dogs wander streets, scamper between legs and search through garbage spilling out of bins
Babies perch on backs of their mothers, loaded down with bags
Ansianos stoop on the sides, weathered hands grip pushcarts
Me, making my way home loaded with cheese, fruit, vegetables
And thoughts of the market.

If you want to feel like a celebrity, come to Peru

It's amazing how much Americans really stand out- and to top it off- Japanese Americans. Most people here can't wrap it around their head that I'm Japanese- but American, too. But I'm used to it. Just like I'm used to being called China or Chinita everytime I walk out of the door. However, unlike Spain, I don't generally feel like it's malicious. It's rather a nickname given out of carino, caring. Chinos refer to all people of Asian descent here. Sheila has her own unique word- she calls Japanese Japonicas (Ha-po-ni-kas, like harmonicas but with a J). Many have the nickname Chinito here (quite a few sports players), though they have no Asian in them to speak of. It's a popular nickname. They even call the fifty cent here una china. I've found it really fascinating to learn how Asian cultures are incorporated here.

I've even found the students at Fe y Alegria playing Jan-Ken-Po (a Japanese hand game of rock-paper-scissors). They even use the words Jan-Ken-Po! I can't help but always wonder how the presidency of Alberto Fujimori played a role in Peru. Whenever I talk a little bit about politics in Peru, I like to ask them what they thought of past president Fujimori, and what they think about Keiko Fujimori, his daughter, who's running for presidency in 2011. I've gotten many interesting and different answers.

Sometimes I get so much attention at Fe y Alegria it's embarrassing. I can't complain about all the greetings of kisses on the cheek and hugs that I receive from the little kids; but many times, whenever they see me walk past their classroom, they'll shout, "Miss Kimiko, La Profesora de Ingles o La China!" Then their teachers will discreetly close their doors or try to hush them down. Since I'm really the only Asian at the school, or in most of Chorrillos, I feel like a novelty. In fact, a lot of Lima I really stand out. But the thing that makes me feel the worst is when I walk in with another Professor and they all just shout "Profesora Kimiko." I don't like making the other professors feel like they are not being acknowledged! Because the teachers at Fe y Alegria are truly amazing! Every day, I am continually impressed by how they can have a classroom of 35 energetic students, many who have problems, and still be able to teach so much and maintain control! Wow! If only I could learn how to do that a little bit I would be pleased.

For me, the amount of stares and comments from not only the elementary but middle and
high schoolers that I receive in a day can be overwhelming. I'm not used to receiving all this attention; though I am so happy that they appreciate me being there. But I do think it's great that they're interested in me. I hope to be able to use this interest to meet more people and teach the community a bit about Japanese- and American- culture, and possibly try to eliminate some stereotypes along the way.

Sheila's Wish

Gracias a Dios, Sheila always returns. Last Tuesday night she left and didn’t return until Wednesday afternoon. The last time she left, she brought back with her a lot of sadness, regret and anger. She returned a bit like she had first come, her face so sad, streaks of dirt on her hands, face and clothes, tired and worn, and defeated. Sheila’s own memories assault her; hit her as hard as el senor who swung a bucket full of cement at her forehead, strike her like the police that called her a nothing, with as much force as the sticks her husband beat her with when he was mad, or drunk, or feeling mean. Being abused, in all its forms, was her life. Treated like trash by her own family and by her ex pareja, by the people she encountered on the streets, she’s been used and thrown away, again and again. She almost doesn’t know what it is like to be respected and loved; she constantly lives her life in suspicion. But every day, I see her changing, opening up and softening. She really has a good heart.

Whenever Sheila sees anything in the shape of a heart, she exclaims how pretty it is, claims it for her own. She makes and collects as many hearts as she can, claiming she does not have one herself. The Mother’s Day card I made for her full of hearts is displayed in our living room, right behind the plastic roses Magda gave her and in front of the picture Mim gave her. Sheila is loved here. If only it were that simple.

Her biggest regret is what kind of mother she was when her kids were very young. History repeats and so does physical abuse. But I never hit my kids with a stick, never with a stick, she always says. I think her wish is to become a singer, as she always tells us; but her biggest wish is to make it up to her kids for the way she treated them, to make up for the life they were forced to live. Sheila wants to get well and become a better person not only for herself but especially for her kids.