As usual, the Janda fam has been busy for the last couple of days. Saturday we traveled by train from Cusco to Puno, a city right on the famous Lake Titicaca. It was fantastic to see the Peruvian countryside for ten hours and made me truly realize how I've grown to adore Peru (but I'll get to that later). Puno is at about 13,000 feet above sea level so altitude adjustment is a never ending game for us gringos, and it's one that we're constantly the underdogs. Luckily, the whole family handled the adjustment quite well.
On Sunday we were off to explore Lake Titicaca. To give some facts about Lake Titicaca, it is the highest navigable lake in the world, is comprised of fresh water, and is divided in half between Peru and Bolivia. The first stop was to visit the floating islands of the Uros people. THEY WERE SO COOL. These people fled the Peruvian mainland after the Inca took over and over the past several hundred years have developed a way to make reed islands that float on top of the lake. It was fascinating to learn about their way of life and the values of their community. Then we were off to the island of Taquile, this one not floating, to also witness their way of life, listen to a bit about their culture and enjoy a lovely lunch. The vistas from Taquile were absolutely stunning, it reminded me so much of the Mediterranean coast of Greece, with the brilliant blue water and jagged rocky cliffs. Traveling by boats through the lake, I was drawn to the natural beauty of this place. Growing up in Michigan, I think it's only natural to love being on, in or around the water... I mean, we have to love it, the state's a peninsula. And being on this giant lake where people spoke Spanish and had countless different ways of life was like an oasis for my ever curious soul.
Monday we traveled by bus over the Peru-Bolivia border and then upon arriving in Bolivia boarded a hydrofoil to go to Sun Island and later to Huatajata to travel again by bus to La Paz. According to myth, Sun Island is the place that gave rise to the first Incan ruler that led to the Incan empire. Also the Sun Island is home to "fountain of youth" like waters. Now, to avoid turning into a fetus if it actually did work, I abstained. However, it was unbelievably entertaining to watch Allison splash herself with some of the water just for fun. We then arrived in Huatajata, boarded our bus and headed to La Paz, our final stop on the tour. Today we had a city tour of La Paz. The morning was jam packed going to "The Valley of the Moon", a folklore museum filled with masks, pottery, feather costumes and textiles, the main square of La Paz, and the "Witches Market." Later we had a wonderful farewell dinner at the National Museum of Art.
To think that this is my last full day in South America is a notion I don't want to process right now. This has been my home for the past seven weeks and the idea that in 48 hours I will be back at Lighthouse Ct seems so foreign, ironic I know. I've traveled a lot and seen many places... however Peru is probably one of the only places that I actually consider myself to know. Throughout these past seven weeks, I've seen so many different ways of life that I feel as though my eyes have truly been even more opened to more of the world around me.
A dear friend of mine asked me how my heart was doing in all of this a coupd of weeks ago, and the question really hit home (as most of the lovely Danielle Alaimo's questions do). My heart has been broken more times than I can count by the things I've witnessed, but God really helped me all through it. He had me seeing a beautifully tragic reality in so many different and unexpected ways: the raw emotion of mourning from the screams of the mother, the truly beautiful condition of Jefery and his love of life even though he can't live it "to the fullest" by our society's standards, the joy and zeal of Valentino and Sanjury (two children that have HIV) that never ceases and they are always dreaming big despite their grave situations, the metamorphosis of the self conscious mother with HIV to the confident Peruvian woman just because someone cared about her opinion, Heidi and Maité's faces when they are told that they are special and worthy of love, Cristian's excitement about someone holding his hand... and I could go on and on. In the past when I went on missions or service trips, I would come home slightly depressed about it all, especially when I got back from Nicaragua. However, here, here (and when I went to Guatemala in January of 2011) was different. I now look at life and poverty through a looking glass of hope, faith and love and not out of hopelessness and depression. Yes, this world is very much broken... but it's a reminder that none of us can do anything on our own, if we could, earth would be heaven, and we all know that's certainly not the case. I'm constantly humbled here, and I don't want that to change. My time here in Huancayo, Peru as a whole and my brief stint in Bolivia and the time spent with the Huancainas has forced me to take a real look at myself and at others. And for that, I'm eternally grateful.
Thanks for reading and keeping tabs on my life south of the equator. Yes, I will be returning to the great north shortly in one piece (that is if I make it through customs). I hope you all have had an amazing summer so far and that ultimately, I glorified God and was true to myself in the process of this blog.
Dear brothers, let us not love in word or tongue, but in action and in truth 1 John 3:18
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
"Don't Forget Me, Kevin Costner!", the Dream of the Decade, RIP Billy, and a Peruvian Fashion Show: An Epic Experience
Tuesday seems like ages ago. Honestly, I woke up a tad under the weather but the itinerary for the tour kept me going, hiking the Incan ruins of Ollantaytambo. I have a confession, that most of you probably already know, I'm a history nerd to the extreme. One of the reasons why I have been dying to go to Peru was a video we watched about amazing Incan ruins in Mr. Williams' 6th grade Social Studies class, and I've been plagued by this desire ever since. Therefore, some stomach grumblings were NOT going to keep me from hiking up ruins. Ollantaytambo was spectacular and I made it all the way through everything without feeling too awful. However, when the adrenaline rush (yes, I'm such a history nerd that I had an adrenaline rush by going to ruins, I understand my precarious state) wore off, I was much worse for the wear and tried to stay in bed for the rest of the day.
Wednesday was the day that I had been waiting for, for legitimately the past decade... Machu Picchu. First we had a walking tour of the town of Ollantaytambo and then the journey began. We first boarded a bus from our hotel to the train station then took the train to Aguas Calientes and then a bus up to the base of the archeological site. Now, the amazing thing was that we were not the only ones who knew this path, the vendors did as well. We met a charming gentleman trying to sell us jewelry, who kept on shouting at our bus "Don't forget me, Kevin Costner!" Yes, that's right, a tiny Peruvian jewelry salesman is named Kevin Costner. To be frank, Kevin Costner is practically our extra tour group member, he seriously has been everywhere.
After all the various means of transportation, we arrived at Machu Picchu. Honestly, I was beyond giddy. We walked into the site and it was nothing short of breathtaking. The vastness of the site and the amazing mountains created a vista that is almost mystical. The engineering feats were enough to make any (Bucknell) civil engineer (yes, I'm talking about you Oswaldo) drool. It's times like these that I realize how small I really am. Not only am I surrounded by the terraces and incredible mason-work of the Incans but also the towering mountains made by an even greater Creator. I just dwelled in the scene and it certainly is something I will never forget. Basically, Mr. Williams, that video was not just hype... in fact, it understated it all.
Unfortunately, the adrenaline rush bit me in the butt again, and that night I crashed... and hard. At dinner I was pretty much a zombie, however there was something to make me laugh. A fellow tour group member ordered the Peruvian delicacy, cuy, or guinea pig. He was a little unsure about eating the furry creature and felt even worse when the waiter set down the plate and said "His name was Billy, he was a good little cuy." While laughter is the best medicine, it wasn't the right prescription for me. I felt sick through the night and for most of the next day. Luckily, it was mainly a day of travel back by train and bus to the Incan capital city of Cusco. I was hoping for a fairly calm train ride back, but apparently Vistadome didn't get my memo. Sipping on my Sprite, I was startled by a man in a traditional Peruvian parade costume who was dancing up and down the aisles and a fashion show ensued of "wonderful alpaca goods." Welcome to Peru! We got of the train and not only was the wonderful Kevin Costner there to greet us at the train station and the hotel, but he also brought his buddy, Martha Washington... I wish I was joking.
Today was a busy day of site-seeing in Cusco and the surrounding area. First we went to Saqsayhuaman (which is actually pronounced "Sexy Woman", making us be as mature as middle school boys) an amazing archeological site that actually served as a quarry for the colonial Spaniards. The Incans were just so ridiculously brilliant. Then we went to Qorikancha, originally an Incan temple that was then turned into a cathedral. However, the joke was really on the Spaniards since their building fell twice due to earthquakes, but the Incan foundation and original walls still stand and aren't even cracked. Afterwards we went to yet another cathedral in the main square, La Plaza de Armas, of Cusco. Then the rest of day was spent shopping and wandering the narrow streets of Cusco. Tomorrow we are off to Puno and are really excited to see the floating villages on Lake Titicaca! More to follow!
Wednesday was the day that I had been waiting for, for legitimately the past decade... Machu Picchu. First we had a walking tour of the town of Ollantaytambo and then the journey began. We first boarded a bus from our hotel to the train station then took the train to Aguas Calientes and then a bus up to the base of the archeological site. Now, the amazing thing was that we were not the only ones who knew this path, the vendors did as well. We met a charming gentleman trying to sell us jewelry, who kept on shouting at our bus "Don't forget me, Kevin Costner!" Yes, that's right, a tiny Peruvian jewelry salesman is named Kevin Costner. To be frank, Kevin Costner is practically our extra tour group member, he seriously has been everywhere.
After all the various means of transportation, we arrived at Machu Picchu. Honestly, I was beyond giddy. We walked into the site and it was nothing short of breathtaking. The vastness of the site and the amazing mountains created a vista that is almost mystical. The engineering feats were enough to make any (Bucknell) civil engineer (yes, I'm talking about you Oswaldo) drool. It's times like these that I realize how small I really am. Not only am I surrounded by the terraces and incredible mason-work of the Incans but also the towering mountains made by an even greater Creator. I just dwelled in the scene and it certainly is something I will never forget. Basically, Mr. Williams, that video was not just hype... in fact, it understated it all.
Unfortunately, the adrenaline rush bit me in the butt again, and that night I crashed... and hard. At dinner I was pretty much a zombie, however there was something to make me laugh. A fellow tour group member ordered the Peruvian delicacy, cuy, or guinea pig. He was a little unsure about eating the furry creature and felt even worse when the waiter set down the plate and said "His name was Billy, he was a good little cuy." While laughter is the best medicine, it wasn't the right prescription for me. I felt sick through the night and for most of the next day. Luckily, it was mainly a day of travel back by train and bus to the Incan capital city of Cusco. I was hoping for a fairly calm train ride back, but apparently Vistadome didn't get my memo. Sipping on my Sprite, I was startled by a man in a traditional Peruvian parade costume who was dancing up and down the aisles and a fashion show ensued of "wonderful alpaca goods." Welcome to Peru! We got of the train and not only was the wonderful Kevin Costner there to greet us at the train station and the hotel, but he also brought his buddy, Martha Washington... I wish I was joking.
Today was a busy day of site-seeing in Cusco and the surrounding area. First we went to Saqsayhuaman (which is actually pronounced "Sexy Woman", making us be as mature as middle school boys) an amazing archeological site that actually served as a quarry for the colonial Spaniards. The Incans were just so ridiculously brilliant. Then we went to Qorikancha, originally an Incan temple that was then turned into a cathedral. However, the joke was really on the Spaniards since their building fell twice due to earthquakes, but the Incan foundation and original walls still stand and aren't even cracked. Afterwards we went to yet another cathedral in the main square, La Plaza de Armas, of Cusco. Then the rest of day was spent shopping and wandering the narrow streets of Cusco. Tomorrow we are off to Puno and are really excited to see the floating villages on Lake Titicaca! More to follow!
Monday, July 11, 2011
Reminiscing and Reunions
Yeah, this time it has been a while, but I have a valid excuse. The hotel in Lima would not let me type in the blog box, so now I will update you about my life since Thursday.
Thursday, I left Huancayo... and it wasn't so much willingly. After all my bags were packed, my send off lunch of lomo saltado (so yummy) and handing in my white coat I as to the bus station and climbed into my oh so comfortable seat situated on the top level of the bus in front of a panoramic windows. As the bus lumbered through the narrow streets of Huancayo and out of its boundaries towards Sicaya, I started to reminisce. This place had been my home for over five weeks of tremendous growth, and now I was barreling on to a new destination, leaving a trail of dust and memories.
Now, I promised honesty on this blog, so here it is... and I started to cry. For those of you who know me quite well (and probably those of you who don't know me very well at all), know that I, Kathryn Mae Janda, am not known for my grace, and when I cry, normally it is quite a blotchy skin-filled scene with a rather loud soundtrack of sniffles. Luckily this time (I thought), I was being pretty discrete about the whole thing, yet I was still being stared at by several Peruvian little old ladies, the European giant sitting across the aisle from me and the bus attendant who would alternate between checking-up on me, ask me continuously if I wanted his handkerchief and asking me whether I had time for a coffee in Lima (which I legitimately didn't). As we weaved from the desert-like mountains surrounding Huancayo to the switchbacks of some of the snow-covered Andes, it truly hit me how much I love Peru, it's stunningly unique and rugged beauty, volunteering and my tie to this place. Sure, I'll be back in the states in about two weeks and Bucknell in less than a month. However, I left a different person than when I arrived, and that was precisely what I was hoping for.
After 8 hours of switchbacks and a wide array of scenery, I arrived at the bus station in Lima and was taken to the hotel to prepare for the arrival of my family and get ourselves ready for the tour to start on Saturday. As I walked into the hotel, I stared at the chandelier and gold leaf crown molding and the following was my train of thought: 1). I bet they have hot water here. 2). WHAT the heck am I wearing? 3). My pants are so baggy (air-drying your clothes doesn't shrink jeans like a dryer) that all of these people could probably tell I'm from Detroit, what a hood rat. Once in the room I laid out all of my little goodies for Mom, Dad and Allison and put out quite a little buffet of Peruvian goodies. When they finally arrived it was a great reunion and we were excited to have the day on Friday to explore on our own.
Friday we enjoyed ourselves and each other's company just wandering around the district of Miraflores in Lima, checking out the Larco Mar, an outdoor mall near our hotel and strolling through parks and random streets in the area. Now, my spidey sense of bargain hunting was definitely not triggered (there was an alpaca sweater that was over 20 times the price that I paid for an alpaca sweater for Dad that was nicer) but my other freakish sense was triggered, my sense of direction. Even though I was only in Lima for about 12 hours (including sleep time), just by wandering around I ended up finding the hostel that I stayed at over a month ago, so crazy!
Then for lunch I finally got to have one of my favorite Peruvian cuisine staples, ceviche. Ceviche is a dish with fresh ocean fish (and other seafood goodies for the more adventurous eaters) that is marinated in lime juice and refrigerated for several hours. The lime juice actually cooks the fish and is mixed with veggies and fresh herbs and spices. The ceviche, causa, everything else at the restaurant Pez Amigo was absolutely to die for. But the culinary goodies weren't done there. That night for dinner we went to a classic Limeño establishment, Rosa Nautica. I seriously had one of the best meals of my life including chupé, a seafood soup that I'm going to desperately try to recreate when I get home. All in all a great first day for the fam in Lima. The revelation of the day: in Peru, I'm the boss, since I'm the only person that can actually order food and bail my mischievous Father out of trouble (a very important task since in Peru you are guilty until proven innocent).
Saturday we met up with the rest of the group, and started our official tour of Lima. After some great stops in the colonial district, visiting an old cathedral, touring a monastery, worming through their catacombs, going to a museum to see pre-Incan pottery and other artifacts our Peruvian and Bolivian adventure had actually began. Sunday we went to an amazing art museum in exhibition park, an art gallery (which no joke housed a LOT of robot statues), and my personal favorite district in Lima, Barranco. Barranco is the "bohemian" section of Lima, has gorgeous ocean front vistas and is home to some pretty big names in Latin American literature, including the one of the latest winners of the Nobel Prize in Literature, Mario Vargas Llosa.
Today we got on the road early and flew to Cuzco in the Andean Highlands. From the airport we had an incredibly drive through the Andes to a llama and alpaca farm. Now, when I first read about this on the itinerary, I was less than amused. I mean, come on, how much more cliché can you get? But actually, it was really fun! We got to feed alpacas and llamas and my personal highlight, got to see a llama chase Allison at least 10 feet, ha ha ha! Afterwards we had a FEAST of a meal at a Paso Horses ranch and headed to our hotel in Urubamba. The whole Janda family is having a marvelous time and more updates to follow!!
Thursday, I left Huancayo... and it wasn't so much willingly. After all my bags were packed, my send off lunch of lomo saltado (so yummy) and handing in my white coat I as to the bus station and climbed into my oh so comfortable seat situated on the top level of the bus in front of a panoramic windows. As the bus lumbered through the narrow streets of Huancayo and out of its boundaries towards Sicaya, I started to reminisce. This place had been my home for over five weeks of tremendous growth, and now I was barreling on to a new destination, leaving a trail of dust and memories.
Now, I promised honesty on this blog, so here it is... and I started to cry. For those of you who know me quite well (and probably those of you who don't know me very well at all), know that I, Kathryn Mae Janda, am not known for my grace, and when I cry, normally it is quite a blotchy skin-filled scene with a rather loud soundtrack of sniffles. Luckily this time (I thought), I was being pretty discrete about the whole thing, yet I was still being stared at by several Peruvian little old ladies, the European giant sitting across the aisle from me and the bus attendant who would alternate between checking-up on me, ask me continuously if I wanted his handkerchief and asking me whether I had time for a coffee in Lima (which I legitimately didn't). As we weaved from the desert-like mountains surrounding Huancayo to the switchbacks of some of the snow-covered Andes, it truly hit me how much I love Peru, it's stunningly unique and rugged beauty, volunteering and my tie to this place. Sure, I'll be back in the states in about two weeks and Bucknell in less than a month. However, I left a different person than when I arrived, and that was precisely what I was hoping for.
After 8 hours of switchbacks and a wide array of scenery, I arrived at the bus station in Lima and was taken to the hotel to prepare for the arrival of my family and get ourselves ready for the tour to start on Saturday. As I walked into the hotel, I stared at the chandelier and gold leaf crown molding and the following was my train of thought: 1). I bet they have hot water here. 2). WHAT the heck am I wearing? 3). My pants are so baggy (air-drying your clothes doesn't shrink jeans like a dryer) that all of these people could probably tell I'm from Detroit, what a hood rat. Once in the room I laid out all of my little goodies for Mom, Dad and Allison and put out quite a little buffet of Peruvian goodies. When they finally arrived it was a great reunion and we were excited to have the day on Friday to explore on our own.
Friday we enjoyed ourselves and each other's company just wandering around the district of Miraflores in Lima, checking out the Larco Mar, an outdoor mall near our hotel and strolling through parks and random streets in the area. Now, my spidey sense of bargain hunting was definitely not triggered (there was an alpaca sweater that was over 20 times the price that I paid for an alpaca sweater for Dad that was nicer) but my other freakish sense was triggered, my sense of direction. Even though I was only in Lima for about 12 hours (including sleep time), just by wandering around I ended up finding the hostel that I stayed at over a month ago, so crazy!
Then for lunch I finally got to have one of my favorite Peruvian cuisine staples, ceviche. Ceviche is a dish with fresh ocean fish (and other seafood goodies for the more adventurous eaters) that is marinated in lime juice and refrigerated for several hours. The lime juice actually cooks the fish and is mixed with veggies and fresh herbs and spices. The ceviche, causa, everything else at the restaurant Pez Amigo was absolutely to die for. But the culinary goodies weren't done there. That night for dinner we went to a classic Limeño establishment, Rosa Nautica. I seriously had one of the best meals of my life including chupé, a seafood soup that I'm going to desperately try to recreate when I get home. All in all a great first day for the fam in Lima. The revelation of the day: in Peru, I'm the boss, since I'm the only person that can actually order food and bail my mischievous Father out of trouble (a very important task since in Peru you are guilty until proven innocent).
Saturday we met up with the rest of the group, and started our official tour of Lima. After some great stops in the colonial district, visiting an old cathedral, touring a monastery, worming through their catacombs, going to a museum to see pre-Incan pottery and other artifacts our Peruvian and Bolivian adventure had actually began. Sunday we went to an amazing art museum in exhibition park, an art gallery (which no joke housed a LOT of robot statues), and my personal favorite district in Lima, Barranco. Barranco is the "bohemian" section of Lima, has gorgeous ocean front vistas and is home to some pretty big names in Latin American literature, including the one of the latest winners of the Nobel Prize in Literature, Mario Vargas Llosa.
Today we got on the road early and flew to Cuzco in the Andean Highlands. From the airport we had an incredibly drive through the Andes to a llama and alpaca farm. Now, when I first read about this on the itinerary, I was less than amused. I mean, come on, how much more cliché can you get? But actually, it was really fun! We got to feed alpacas and llamas and my personal highlight, got to see a llama chase Allison at least 10 feet, ha ha ha! Afterwards we had a FEAST of a meal at a Paso Horses ranch and headed to our hotel in Urubamba. The whole Janda family is having a marvelous time and more updates to follow!!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Uno Más... Dude where'd my five weeks go?
I can't actually believe this, but this was my last full day in Huancayo. In short, I am so not okay with this. Honestly, I could stay here for so much longer. But here's the recap from the last couple of days.
Sunday I had a pretty lazy day with the house all to myself. I went to the Sunday market as per usual and loved perusing the blocks upon blocks of artisan goodies. Afterwards I wandered around the Plaza Constitucíon for a little bit and headed back to 275 Brasilia. Everything else was pretty uneventful on Sunday except for having the best pizza ever homemade by Elena, my home-mom, a great way to end a relaxing weekend.
Monday, Elena smuggled me into EsSalud (the insurance hospital) to do rounds. After sneaking in, I absolutely adored the doctor that we got shadow. He did general internal medicine rounds but had more of a specialty with cardiac, pulmonary and gastric conditions. That afternoon we went to the HIV shelter to help with homework. Little did I know I had to go through "Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion word by word so Karen could phonetically spell it. You know, I know that Linguistics 105 was a random class that I took and the lovely Katie McAvoy and David Gorman, and we would laugh about how we would never EVER use any of it, but it was so clutch to do this phonetic translation. Leaving was rough. Gabriel said "Adios, Mami" and I of course melted. Sanjury and Valentino asked if I really had to leave this week, and honestly I started to wonder the same exact thing.
That night, the newbies arrived... and they are pretty awesome. And two of the guys go to University of Michigan so we got to bond over all the wonderful, and not so wonderful things about Ann Arbor and the greater Detroit area. All in all there is Shelza from Vandy who was born in Peru, Abby from Iowa who goes to UVM, Chris and Nathan from the West Coast that go to U of M, and Jessica from New York who goes to Villanova and they're a great group.
Tuesday, Elena and I oriented them at the hospital and it went pretty well. Then they really got an idea of what FIMRC in Huancayo was all about at the Special Needs School. The Special Needs School was business as usual: Kelto trying to fight everyone, little kids using the restroom and then walking around without pants on, the same old same old. Soon it was time to leave, and saying goodbye to Jefery, Angel, Cristian and Jaqueline was tough. I will never, ever forget the place. That afternoon it was pretty calm just coloring with the psych ward patients at EsSalud and then giving the July group a whirlwind tour of Plaza Vea, Peru's version of Walmart.
Today was the day that I was dreading, my last full day in Huancayo. This morning it was back to Daniel Carrión for internal medicine rounds. Together we found a new favorite doctor and resource at the hospital, the resource is a gringo who just graduated from Public Health Graduate School and is starting Medical School in the fall. Needless to say he's a wealth of information. Afterwards we hung out at the house and I started to pack, a FEAT. Friends and family, the gifts I'm bringing back and my blanket (possibly my best deal yet) take up way more room in my duffel bag than anything else, get excited people. BUT IT WAS WEIRD. Packing up my life from the last 5 weeks seems so against the grain. The idea that in about 12 hours I will be boarding a bus to Lima is sitting as well as drinking a liter of the tap water here, in short, NOT WELL.
Then it was off to Rosario to do a lesson on keeping and maintaining friends. All in all it went well. Afterwards is when the fun really began, Abby and I had to translate the musical masterpieces of High School Musical and Justin Bieber, and then we all sang along. Yes, a literal Justin Bieber "sing-a-long" did ensue, Bucknell Intervarsity Christian Fellowship prepared me so well. Then the goodbyes began. Mari Elouise, Heidi, Maité, Monica, Yohan, Jean Pierre, it was a tough one. Some little ones even argued with Elena (our site coordinator) about how she really shouldn't take me to the bus station. Mom, Dad and Al, I swear I will be in Lima... or at least I should be. All in all, the new July FIMRCers are making sure I'm enjoying my last night. Now I only have uno más día in Huancayo, and my only question is, where did my five weeks go?
Sunday I had a pretty lazy day with the house all to myself. I went to the Sunday market as per usual and loved perusing the blocks upon blocks of artisan goodies. Afterwards I wandered around the Plaza Constitucíon for a little bit and headed back to 275 Brasilia. Everything else was pretty uneventful on Sunday except for having the best pizza ever homemade by Elena, my home-mom, a great way to end a relaxing weekend.
Monday, Elena smuggled me into EsSalud (the insurance hospital) to do rounds. After sneaking in, I absolutely adored the doctor that we got shadow. He did general internal medicine rounds but had more of a specialty with cardiac, pulmonary and gastric conditions. That afternoon we went to the HIV shelter to help with homework. Little did I know I had to go through "Because You Loved Me" by Celine Dion word by word so Karen could phonetically spell it. You know, I know that Linguistics 105 was a random class that I took and the lovely Katie McAvoy and David Gorman, and we would laugh about how we would never EVER use any of it, but it was so clutch to do this phonetic translation. Leaving was rough. Gabriel said "Adios, Mami" and I of course melted. Sanjury and Valentino asked if I really had to leave this week, and honestly I started to wonder the same exact thing.
That night, the newbies arrived... and they are pretty awesome. And two of the guys go to University of Michigan so we got to bond over all the wonderful, and not so wonderful things about Ann Arbor and the greater Detroit area. All in all there is Shelza from Vandy who was born in Peru, Abby from Iowa who goes to UVM, Chris and Nathan from the West Coast that go to U of M, and Jessica from New York who goes to Villanova and they're a great group.
Tuesday, Elena and I oriented them at the hospital and it went pretty well. Then they really got an idea of what FIMRC in Huancayo was all about at the Special Needs School. The Special Needs School was business as usual: Kelto trying to fight everyone, little kids using the restroom and then walking around without pants on, the same old same old. Soon it was time to leave, and saying goodbye to Jefery, Angel, Cristian and Jaqueline was tough. I will never, ever forget the place. That afternoon it was pretty calm just coloring with the psych ward patients at EsSalud and then giving the July group a whirlwind tour of Plaza Vea, Peru's version of Walmart.
Today was the day that I was dreading, my last full day in Huancayo. This morning it was back to Daniel Carrión for internal medicine rounds. Together we found a new favorite doctor and resource at the hospital, the resource is a gringo who just graduated from Public Health Graduate School and is starting Medical School in the fall. Needless to say he's a wealth of information. Afterwards we hung out at the house and I started to pack, a FEAT. Friends and family, the gifts I'm bringing back and my blanket (possibly my best deal yet) take up way more room in my duffel bag than anything else, get excited people. BUT IT WAS WEIRD. Packing up my life from the last 5 weeks seems so against the grain. The idea that in about 12 hours I will be boarding a bus to Lima is sitting as well as drinking a liter of the tap water here, in short, NOT WELL.
Then it was off to Rosario to do a lesson on keeping and maintaining friends. All in all it went well. Afterwards is when the fun really began, Abby and I had to translate the musical masterpieces of High School Musical and Justin Bieber, and then we all sang along. Yes, a literal Justin Bieber "sing-a-long" did ensue, Bucknell Intervarsity Christian Fellowship prepared me so well. Then the goodbyes began. Mari Elouise, Heidi, Maité, Monica, Yohan, Jean Pierre, it was a tough one. Some little ones even argued with Elena (our site coordinator) about how she really shouldn't take me to the bus station. Mom, Dad and Al, I swear I will be in Lima... or at least I should be. All in all, the new July FIMRCers are making sure I'm enjoying my last night. Now I only have uno más día in Huancayo, and my only question is, where did my five weeks go?
Saturday, July 2, 2011
The wandering psych patient, pigs feet and an empty house: a strange last couple of days.
Thursday was the last day for surgical rotations for me and everyone else's last day at Daniel Carrión hospital. Women's surgical rounds started off fairly normal when Dr. Suazo joined the group of physicians and things started to spice up. The surgeons went from incredibly tense to cracking jokes left and right, and then it got really interesting. There was a psych patient that had been operated on and when we got to her she was certainly the life of the party. Telling various life stories (we're fairly certain she had multiple personality disorder) and also lightening the mood. Afterwards, Dr. Suazo took Lauren, Emily and myself to several patients and described in detail the process of making a diagnosis and different conditions. It was absolutely fascinating to hear him describe the condition of one patient who came in with supposedly problems with her gallbladder and jaundice, but she actually had severe liver damage and possibly hepatitis. Not only were the three of us enthralled in what Dr. Suazo was saying, but also the psych patient whose personality at this point was one of a nurse. As we were making our way from patient to patient, getting clued in on their cases or observing the cleaning of a wound, the psych patient was right at our heels. At least the wandering psych patient had an interesting morning.
Then it was off to Rosario Orphanage as per usual to give a short lesson on personal hygiene that morning and we returned there that afternoon. The lessons went well and it was great to just hang out with the kids as always. In fact, the director brought out a newspaper article that talked about how malnutrition at Rosario went down 50% from January to June and it even mentioned the Foundation for the International Medical Relief of Children (FIMRC) in the article! This afternoon I played soccer with two 10 year old soccer prodigies, Alán and Jean Pierre, and we beat the other team (Callie, Scott and Spencer) and had a lot of fun doing it, ha ha ha. I scored 4 of our 12 goals and was pretty pleased with myself, yeah middle school rec soccer skills! Before we knew it, it was time to go and then things got sad, really sad. This was the last time Callie, Emily, Lauren, Scott and Spencer would be at Rosario and we've all become really close with the kids and the director. I do not look forward to my goodbyes next Wednesday, AT ALL.
Friday it was off to Sicaya as always to do education in classrooms about brushing teeth and washing hands and do fluoride treatments. The kids were adorable, what else is new, and so fun to work with. In fact at the first school the kids were so excited about washing their hands they ran out to the bathroom as we started the brushing teeth section... a first! Afterwards we played with the kids, and I made a not so great decision, I started to pick up the kids and spin them around. Twenty minutes later I was still picking them up and spinning them and getting dizzier and dizzier. Tired, I insisted that every kid only got one more and thankfully the playground stopped spinning after about 15 minutes. But hey, at least I got a good arm workout in!
That night we had a lesson on sutures and were all greeted with our own personal pigs foot to cut and stitch back up. After several minutes of being immature, playing with the pigs foot and talking about how "this little piggy went to the market" etc, we got down to business. We learned three different types of suturing techniques, and I'm not going to lie, I was pretty darn good at it. In fact, I did the most complicated stitch by myself, and the stunned medical student teaching us told me I was born to be a surgeon. I laughed (terrified, mind you) and insisted that I just know how to sew and have surgical prowess in my blood. However, I am happy to know that if I'm ever in a bind, I could stitch myself up fairly well. Then it was back to the house for everyone to pack and get ready to leave. We of course played several last rounds of our favorite Canadian card game (or main source of entertainment at the house) and just reminisced on our month in Huancayo together. As we all hugged and waved goodbye it was so strange. Here are five people that were strangers to me a month ago that I now consider to be like family. As I walked back into the house alone and turned off all the lights it was so weird. A house that I've shared with five to nine other people was empty, quiet and eery as all get out. And don't even get me started on how weird breakfast was eating at a big table by myself! Honestly, Huancayo is not happy about their absence either since it is the most overcast it has ever been today. Love you guys, Callie, Claire, Emily, Lauren, Lena, Sarah, Scott and Spencer... 275 Brasilia is not the same without you all.
And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone.
1 Thessalonians 5:14
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24-25
Then it was off to Rosario Orphanage as per usual to give a short lesson on personal hygiene that morning and we returned there that afternoon. The lessons went well and it was great to just hang out with the kids as always. In fact, the director brought out a newspaper article that talked about how malnutrition at Rosario went down 50% from January to June and it even mentioned the Foundation for the International Medical Relief of Children (FIMRC) in the article! This afternoon I played soccer with two 10 year old soccer prodigies, Alán and Jean Pierre, and we beat the other team (Callie, Scott and Spencer) and had a lot of fun doing it, ha ha ha. I scored 4 of our 12 goals and was pretty pleased with myself, yeah middle school rec soccer skills! Before we knew it, it was time to go and then things got sad, really sad. This was the last time Callie, Emily, Lauren, Scott and Spencer would be at Rosario and we've all become really close with the kids and the director. I do not look forward to my goodbyes next Wednesday, AT ALL.
Friday it was off to Sicaya as always to do education in classrooms about brushing teeth and washing hands and do fluoride treatments. The kids were adorable, what else is new, and so fun to work with. In fact at the first school the kids were so excited about washing their hands they ran out to the bathroom as we started the brushing teeth section... a first! Afterwards we played with the kids, and I made a not so great decision, I started to pick up the kids and spin them around. Twenty minutes later I was still picking them up and spinning them and getting dizzier and dizzier. Tired, I insisted that every kid only got one more and thankfully the playground stopped spinning after about 15 minutes. But hey, at least I got a good arm workout in!
That night we had a lesson on sutures and were all greeted with our own personal pigs foot to cut and stitch back up. After several minutes of being immature, playing with the pigs foot and talking about how "this little piggy went to the market" etc, we got down to business. We learned three different types of suturing techniques, and I'm not going to lie, I was pretty darn good at it. In fact, I did the most complicated stitch by myself, and the stunned medical student teaching us told me I was born to be a surgeon. I laughed (terrified, mind you) and insisted that I just know how to sew and have surgical prowess in my blood. However, I am happy to know that if I'm ever in a bind, I could stitch myself up fairly well. Then it was back to the house for everyone to pack and get ready to leave. We of course played several last rounds of our favorite Canadian card game (or main source of entertainment at the house) and just reminisced on our month in Huancayo together. As we all hugged and waved goodbye it was so strange. Here are five people that were strangers to me a month ago that I now consider to be like family. As I walked back into the house alone and turned off all the lights it was so weird. A house that I've shared with five to nine other people was empty, quiet and eery as all get out. And don't even get me started on how weird breakfast was eating at a big table by myself! Honestly, Huancayo is not happy about their absence either since it is the most overcast it has ever been today. Love you guys, Callie, Claire, Emily, Lauren, Lena, Sarah, Scott and Spencer... 275 Brasilia is not the same without you all.
And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone.
1 Thessalonians 5:14
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24-25
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Drool might be beautiful... but my snot, is not.
Yes, I know it's been a while since my last blog, but honestly it's just been business as usual here in Huancayo, well, except for one thing... we're all (or have been) sicker than dogs. I'll start from the beginning.
On Saturday, Sarah, Lena, Scott, Callie and Spencer hiked to the top of a snow-capped mountain. Honestly, while I would love to do a total 7 hour hike, I know that my knee would hate it and as a result hate me, so Emily and I decided to stay behind and have a lazy day of walking around Huancayo and sunbathing on our roof. When they got back, they were all in pretty good spirits, which was surprising since Sarah was just getting over a head cold.
Sunday, it was off to the Sunday Market, AKA: my playground. For those of you who know me well enough, you know that I might as well be a basset hound when it comes to sniffing down a good bargain, and being in Huancayo has only heightened that spidey-sense of mine. I may need to be institutionalized for my habits here, but then again, I haggle my way so I don't end up spending that much money (yes, Dad, I'm still definitely the cheapskate daughter... and Al, you know by now not to argue that statement). Unfortunately, Sarah had a stomach bug that morning, but rallied quickly and went with us to the market. That night, those of us who felt up to it, went to try a Peruvian staple, Chifa. Chifa is a type of restaurant that specializes in Peruvian-Chinese fusion food, and they are everywhere. All in all a great experience, at least at first.
The next morning we were off to Daniel Carrión hospital to do rounds, and one by one we were hurting. I woke up with a pretty gnarly head cold that was tolerable, then Scott, Spencer and Lauren felt pretty bad by lunch with a stomach thing. While all eight of us made it to the hospital in the morning, only 5 of us made it to the HIV shelter that afternoon. That night we had a lesson on charts and vital signs, and I'm not going to lie we were all pretty dead. However, we all suited up to go to dinner with Dr. Suazo and Dr. Yumpo, our favorite doctors at Daniel Carrión as a token of our appreciation for their hospitality. It was a great meal, but we all left two by two in a parade of sickly gringos, however the doctors did get a real kick out of us trying to diagnose ourselves. I'm not going to lie, put a bunch of medically interested early twenty-somethings in a room, throw in a sick person and they'll be entertained for hours by the possible ailments.
By Tuesday the numbers were dwindling. Waking up with a pounding headache, the fact that my sense of balance was nonexistent and that my sinuses were beyond congested made it so I was unable to make it to the hospital to do rounds... and then there were 4. Yes, I called Jefrey's spit bubbles and drool beautiful. However, my own snot, not so much. Spencer and I rallied by the afternoon to go to El Rosario orphanage, but unfortunately Callie fell victim to the stomach bug and Scott was feeling even worse. The kids were energetic as per usual and again, I had a face full of stickers, apparently the new norm for my time there.
Today was definitely a day we've been looking forward to for a while. It was St. Peter's Day and everyone had the day off, so we couldn't do rounds at the hospital, but we had a much better alternative planned. We decided to take all 17 of the kids at the HIV shelter out for a day full of fun at a local rec center. Little did we know that we would end up at three different rec centers but the kids loved it, and as long as the kids are happy, we're happy. At the final rec center all the confusion and ceased and we enjoyed the boats, horses, four-wheelers, the amazing arroz con pollo prepared by the moms and each other's company.
Then reality set in, Sarah and Lena were leaving today (this was planned) and that everyone else leaves on Friday. The eight of us have become a family, and the thought of everyone being gone this weekend and then meeting a whole group of new people on Monday is just not kosher. Don't get me wrong, I'm ecstatic that I'm here in Huancayo for a longer period of time, I'm not ready to leave this place yet. Honestly, I probably won't want to leave next Thursday (Mom and Dad, planning that trip was a good idea, because seeing your lovely faces, and yours Al, are three things that would actually get me on a 7 hour bus ride back to Lima). But the idea of being here without my seven brothers and sisters just doesn't seem right. And I have to meet, get close and orient the other people coming to Huancayo and then jet off to Lima right when the awkward barrier gets broken. We all know that I'm not a crier, but if today was any indication, I'm going to have to be packing some kleenex for goodbyes to my FIMRCers on Friday, and all the little kiddies at El Rosario, the HIV Shelter and the Special Needs School next week. My only question is, when the heck did I become such a sap? If I'm not careful I'm going to be crying at spaghetti sauce commercials and American Girl doll books (love you, Mom).
On Saturday, Sarah, Lena, Scott, Callie and Spencer hiked to the top of a snow-capped mountain. Honestly, while I would love to do a total 7 hour hike, I know that my knee would hate it and as a result hate me, so Emily and I decided to stay behind and have a lazy day of walking around Huancayo and sunbathing on our roof. When they got back, they were all in pretty good spirits, which was surprising since Sarah was just getting over a head cold.
Sunday, it was off to the Sunday Market, AKA: my playground. For those of you who know me well enough, you know that I might as well be a basset hound when it comes to sniffing down a good bargain, and being in Huancayo has only heightened that spidey-sense of mine. I may need to be institutionalized for my habits here, but then again, I haggle my way so I don't end up spending that much money (yes, Dad, I'm still definitely the cheapskate daughter... and Al, you know by now not to argue that statement). Unfortunately, Sarah had a stomach bug that morning, but rallied quickly and went with us to the market. That night, those of us who felt up to it, went to try a Peruvian staple, Chifa. Chifa is a type of restaurant that specializes in Peruvian-Chinese fusion food, and they are everywhere. All in all a great experience, at least at first.
The next morning we were off to Daniel Carrión hospital to do rounds, and one by one we were hurting. I woke up with a pretty gnarly head cold that was tolerable, then Scott, Spencer and Lauren felt pretty bad by lunch with a stomach thing. While all eight of us made it to the hospital in the morning, only 5 of us made it to the HIV shelter that afternoon. That night we had a lesson on charts and vital signs, and I'm not going to lie we were all pretty dead. However, we all suited up to go to dinner with Dr. Suazo and Dr. Yumpo, our favorite doctors at Daniel Carrión as a token of our appreciation for their hospitality. It was a great meal, but we all left two by two in a parade of sickly gringos, however the doctors did get a real kick out of us trying to diagnose ourselves. I'm not going to lie, put a bunch of medically interested early twenty-somethings in a room, throw in a sick person and they'll be entertained for hours by the possible ailments.
By Tuesday the numbers were dwindling. Waking up with a pounding headache, the fact that my sense of balance was nonexistent and that my sinuses were beyond congested made it so I was unable to make it to the hospital to do rounds... and then there were 4. Yes, I called Jefrey's spit bubbles and drool beautiful. However, my own snot, not so much. Spencer and I rallied by the afternoon to go to El Rosario orphanage, but unfortunately Callie fell victim to the stomach bug and Scott was feeling even worse. The kids were energetic as per usual and again, I had a face full of stickers, apparently the new norm for my time there.
Today was definitely a day we've been looking forward to for a while. It was St. Peter's Day and everyone had the day off, so we couldn't do rounds at the hospital, but we had a much better alternative planned. We decided to take all 17 of the kids at the HIV shelter out for a day full of fun at a local rec center. Little did we know that we would end up at three different rec centers but the kids loved it, and as long as the kids are happy, we're happy. At the final rec center all the confusion and ceased and we enjoyed the boats, horses, four-wheelers, the amazing arroz con pollo prepared by the moms and each other's company.
Then reality set in, Sarah and Lena were leaving today (this was planned) and that everyone else leaves on Friday. The eight of us have become a family, and the thought of everyone being gone this weekend and then meeting a whole group of new people on Monday is just not kosher. Don't get me wrong, I'm ecstatic that I'm here in Huancayo for a longer period of time, I'm not ready to leave this place yet. Honestly, I probably won't want to leave next Thursday (Mom and Dad, planning that trip was a good idea, because seeing your lovely faces, and yours Al, are three things that would actually get me on a 7 hour bus ride back to Lima). But the idea of being here without my seven brothers and sisters just doesn't seem right. And I have to meet, get close and orient the other people coming to Huancayo and then jet off to Lima right when the awkward barrier gets broken. We all know that I'm not a crier, but if today was any indication, I'm going to have to be packing some kleenex for goodbyes to my FIMRCers on Friday, and all the little kiddies at El Rosario, the HIV Shelter and the Special Needs School next week. My only question is, when the heck did I become such a sap? If I'm not careful I'm going to be crying at spaghetti sauce commercials and American Girl doll books (love you, Mom).
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Twinkle Twinkle Twinkle Tar, ABCD in Action, Quinoa and Cuy Galore, and Circus Freaks... all in 48 hours.
Wednesday seems like a world away from what we've experienced in the last two days. Thursday morning's men's surgery rounds were normal and Emily and I were rather excited that it was our last day there since there apparently is an amazing surgeon in women's surgery who we get to shadow next week. Last week one of the other volunteers at EsSalud asked if we would like to come to her Kindergarten class, and we decided it would be this Thursday after hospital rounds. Most of the schools that we go to are in rural areas or are for children who have special needs, and the schools are usually not in the best shape, but I.E.P. Gesú Bambino school was very different. All the walls were painted with murals of Disney characters and it seemed like such a happy, safe, healthy learning environment. Then the kids came into the courtyard... their matching uniforms, big smiles, and overall excitement that us, the gringos, were at their school. We did our lesson on hand-washing and brushing teeth again, and did a fun little game/song of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." But then we were in for a surprise, they all filed on to the stage and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" except they sang it more like "Twinkle Twinkle Twinkle Tar." Our hearts melted, and how could they not? We were in heaven when before we knew it, the teacher had them in a line and a child gave a little present and card to each of us. Just another example of us intending to give ourselves, when we find ourselves receiving so much more.
Thursday afternoon it was time for us to go to the HIV shelter. This lesson was for the kids and the moms, and was about how "Everyone is Unique." We talked about how everyone, however big or small, has something to bring to the table and went around and described ourselves in a positive adjective or talk about a talent we had. During our lunchtime siesta I was reading When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor... and Yourself by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert again, and again I saw exactly what they were saying right before my very eyes. They discussed the aspects of "asset based community development" (ABCD) where instead of focusing on what the impoverished lack, you focus on the gifts that they have been blessed with and how they can utilize them to better their own situation and the situation of their community. This type of outlook results in an increase in self-esteem and for the people who actually KNOW their situation to participate actively in the process. At first having the kids and moms at the HIV shelter talk about themselves was a little awkward, but before you know others would chime in about how this person always had an amazing outlook on life, another one was the best weaver this side of Ferrocarríl, and how one child always knew the right time to provide comedic relief, it definitely was a sight to be seen.
After the lesson we gave the kids construction paper cut-outs of boys and girls so they could decorate them. I somehow found myself next to one of the mothers and we began to chat as she crocheted a scarf. At first she seemed rather shy, speaking in a meek, tone and only asking questions about me, our organization, and such. Wanting to take the spotlight off myself, I started asking her questions, questions about her crocheting, her time in Huancayo, her family and even politics. I loved hearing her talk about the recent election, the public consensus and her personal opinions about the two candidates. It was incredible to see the transformation, in just a half an hour her posture, voice, tone, everything changed from one that was self conscious and skittish to one full of confidence, poise, insight and dignity. And to think that this great metamorphosis took place just because someone asked for her opinion sincerely. One of the great nuggets of wisdom that I took away from our conversation was that if you plan to work with the poor, you need to know the poor, and not just not about them, but to know them at a personal and relational level (for Spanish speakers, necesitamos conocer el pobre).
Friday morning we were happy to sleep in to 8 am, but we knew we had a VERY busy day ahead of us. It was El Día del Campesino in Sicaya and we had prepared information about the nutrition of cuy (guinea pig), nutrition of quinoa ( a so-called super grain grown in the Andes), dangers of cooking over an open fire indoors, and information about water purification in pairs, made a pamphlet and made posters for the event. We arrived at our tent, hung up our posters and braced ourselves for what could possibly be thrown our way. We were blessed that overall, the reception of our material went really well and we went through 100 pamphlets by noon (poor Lena had to deal with a nasty, mean, older gentleman, but he was luckily in the minority of not so nice people). What we didn't realize was that this festival included a culinary competition for the best tasting dishes with quinoa and cuy, lots of traditional dances, and even a cuy "best in show" contest (including a formal wear competition... I'm not joking). Knowing that I can't turn down a cultural experience, I tried some of the food, and all in all, not bad at all (Sorry Dana and Mopsey :/)!
Tired, and all a little bit darker than when we arrived, we piled back into the van to head to El Rosario Orphanage to celebrate all the kids who had birthdays from January to June. Now, during finals first semester last year, I made a back up plan in a coffee and overworked stupor, a fictitious plan, but one nonetheless that I was going to drop out of school and join the circus. Little did I know, FIMRC would prepare me for such an endeavor. Our site director, Elena, scheduled her friend, who's a clown/performer to do a performance at the event and before we knew it we were all in funny outfits or hats ready to entertain. We were all making balloon animals (a talent I have now acquired, sorry Tim and Jillian I can't do this at your graduation parties) and dancing with the kids. By 6 pm it was time to go, and we were all absolutely exhausted. And to think, this was all in less than 48 hours...
This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place.
Jeremiah 22:3
Break down the system. No we just can’t let it be. I know it’s easier to look away. But tell me what’s with all the apathy? We never never wanna take our time. Standing in the checkout line. We just a shuffle shuffle shuffle our feet.
"Walk Softly" by Barefoot Truth
Have you ever lived down in the ghetto? Have you ever felt the cold wind blow? If you don't know what I mean, Won't you stand up and scream? 'Cause there's things goin' on that you don't know. "Things Goin' On" by Lynyrd Skynyrd
No se trata tanto de dar a los pobres como de hacernos pobres con ellos. Aprender de ellos y comprometerse con ellos es el camino para solucionar os problemas de toda la humanidad. A footnote from the "Latin American" Bible I bought today
Thursday afternoon it was time for us to go to the HIV shelter. This lesson was for the kids and the moms, and was about how "Everyone is Unique." We talked about how everyone, however big or small, has something to bring to the table and went around and described ourselves in a positive adjective or talk about a talent we had. During our lunchtime siesta I was reading When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor... and Yourself by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert again, and again I saw exactly what they were saying right before my very eyes. They discussed the aspects of "asset based community development" (ABCD) where instead of focusing on what the impoverished lack, you focus on the gifts that they have been blessed with and how they can utilize them to better their own situation and the situation of their community. This type of outlook results in an increase in self-esteem and for the people who actually KNOW their situation to participate actively in the process. At first having the kids and moms at the HIV shelter talk about themselves was a little awkward, but before you know others would chime in about how this person always had an amazing outlook on life, another one was the best weaver this side of Ferrocarríl, and how one child always knew the right time to provide comedic relief, it definitely was a sight to be seen.
After the lesson we gave the kids construction paper cut-outs of boys and girls so they could decorate them. I somehow found myself next to one of the mothers and we began to chat as she crocheted a scarf. At first she seemed rather shy, speaking in a meek, tone and only asking questions about me, our organization, and such. Wanting to take the spotlight off myself, I started asking her questions, questions about her crocheting, her time in Huancayo, her family and even politics. I loved hearing her talk about the recent election, the public consensus and her personal opinions about the two candidates. It was incredible to see the transformation, in just a half an hour her posture, voice, tone, everything changed from one that was self conscious and skittish to one full of confidence, poise, insight and dignity. And to think that this great metamorphosis took place just because someone asked for her opinion sincerely. One of the great nuggets of wisdom that I took away from our conversation was that if you plan to work with the poor, you need to know the poor, and not just not about them, but to know them at a personal and relational level (for Spanish speakers, necesitamos conocer el pobre).
Friday morning we were happy to sleep in to 8 am, but we knew we had a VERY busy day ahead of us. It was El Día del Campesino in Sicaya and we had prepared information about the nutrition of cuy (guinea pig), nutrition of quinoa ( a so-called super grain grown in the Andes), dangers of cooking over an open fire indoors, and information about water purification in pairs, made a pamphlet and made posters for the event. We arrived at our tent, hung up our posters and braced ourselves for what could possibly be thrown our way. We were blessed that overall, the reception of our material went really well and we went through 100 pamphlets by noon (poor Lena had to deal with a nasty, mean, older gentleman, but he was luckily in the minority of not so nice people). What we didn't realize was that this festival included a culinary competition for the best tasting dishes with quinoa and cuy, lots of traditional dances, and even a cuy "best in show" contest (including a formal wear competition... I'm not joking). Knowing that I can't turn down a cultural experience, I tried some of the food, and all in all, not bad at all (Sorry Dana and Mopsey :/)!
Tired, and all a little bit darker than when we arrived, we piled back into the van to head to El Rosario Orphanage to celebrate all the kids who had birthdays from January to June. Now, during finals first semester last year, I made a back up plan in a coffee and overworked stupor, a fictitious plan, but one nonetheless that I was going to drop out of school and join the circus. Little did I know, FIMRC would prepare me for such an endeavor. Our site director, Elena, scheduled her friend, who's a clown/performer to do a performance at the event and before we knew it we were all in funny outfits or hats ready to entertain. We were all making balloon animals (a talent I have now acquired, sorry Tim and Jillian I can't do this at your graduation parties) and dancing with the kids. By 6 pm it was time to go, and we were all absolutely exhausted. And to think, this was all in less than 48 hours...
This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place.
Jeremiah 22:3
Break down the system. No we just can’t let it be. I know it’s easier to look away. But tell me what’s with all the apathy? We never never wanna take our time. Standing in the checkout line. We just a shuffle shuffle shuffle our feet.
"Walk Softly" by Barefoot Truth
Have you ever lived down in the ghetto? Have you ever felt the cold wind blow? If you don't know what I mean, Won't you stand up and scream? 'Cause there's things goin' on that you don't know. "Things Goin' On" by Lynyrd Skynyrd
No se trata tanto de dar a los pobres como de hacernos pobres con ellos. Aprender de ellos y comprometerse con ellos es el camino para solucionar os problemas de toda la humanidad. A footnote from the "Latin American" Bible I bought today
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Extreme Makeover... Peruvian Edition.
It's business as usual in Huancayo. Yesterday we were back at the hospital to shadow men's surgery rounds, when we were in for a surprise, we got to see a case study presentation of a patient we saw the day before. Honestly, it was nothing short of hilarious to me. All I could think about were the medical profession stereotypes, which my Dad has so graciously enlightened me with, and compare the surgery case study with the internal medicine case study. In internal medicine, there was a rather heated argument that broke out regarding the philosophical notion of medicine. In surgery, the presentation lasted forever just because every surgeon needed to hear themselves talk... Dad, I now get why you hate those meetings. Also, something that really shocked me was that they had drug reps floating around the case presentation giving doctors food, drinks, information, and little presents. Dad, it would have been a living nightmare for you. Not to mention that practically every single surgeon and medical student's phone went off during the presentation. The poor resident's presentation had a background track of Justin Bieber, Maná, salsa music... and my personal favorite, Eminem, oh a taste of home. After needless pontification it was time to do surgical rounds. Just like the wonderful Chelsea Community Hospital back home, I somehow became a hit with the recovery room nurses. Dearest Val, I found the Peruvian version of you, everything from the mannerisms and demeanor, down to the jewelry and glasses. Clearly we are now best friends.
After the hospital it was time for the Special Needs School. Trying to avoid last week's episode we divided up and went to classrooms and then went outside to play in small groups. Of course I had to find my best friend Jefery and we hung out for a little bit, soaking up some rays and playing with ribbons. Soon Jefery left me and I had to make a new friend, Cristian. Cristian is incredibly mobile, but still can't really articulate any ideas clearly. We had a grand old time digging in the dirt (one of my favorite pastimes, I must admit), walking around, and just holding hands. Before we knew it we had to shepherd the kids back to their classrooms and I had to help Jefery finish up his lunch. He must have known that I called his drool beautiful last week, because I was soaked with slobber by the time I hopped into the van. As much as that places runs me ragged, I absolutely adore it.
That afternoon it was off to Rosario Orphanage to teach a lesson on what to do in natural disasters and emergency situations. It is so much fun to egg the kids on and encourage participation. Afterwards, it was fútbol, fútbol, fútbol... and coloring/english tutoring. You can imagine how delight I was when Lake Michigan was the topic of an exercise in Doris' english book.
This morning we did more surgical rounds and actually got nods of approval from some of the surgeons after I knew and explained what the CDC was to some of the surgical residents. Unfortunately, one of the surgeons that we shadowed was kind of a pompous jerk, but hey, you win some you lose some. After rounds Emily and I got interrogated by some incredibly nice nursing students curious about us, our organization, opinions of Huancayo culture, marital statuses (dead serious, one of the top ten most frequently asked questions I've been confronted with), you name it, it was asked. They were so much fun to chat with and I can't wait to see them tomorrow.
From the hospital we went to Rosario to give another presentation on emergency and natural disaster situations. Then it was back to the homestay and then to the main plaza to shop. Well, we intended to shop, but the store was closed for siesta so instead we walked around, enjoyed some ice cream (Ev, they may not have chocolate chip ice cream at Sherman's, but they have it in Huancayo :) ) and my personal favorite, fresh juice. I had a fresh banana with milk juice (it's basically a milkshake but better for you), and the best part was they ran out of cups so she made a makeshift juice-pouch out of a to-go bag. Seriously, who needs a juice box when you can have a juice bag.
After our wonderful outing it was time to go back to Rosario to teach the kids about physical activity and to do some physical activities with them. Callie and I got to teach the moms about nutrition. They got so intense with our "Jeopardy" inspired game that it was hilarious. When we were done we got to play with the kids as per usual, but this time with prizes... think elementary school field day. However, play time today was a little different though. Yes, I worked on some homework with them, but they also worked on me. Maite (in the words of Ana Aguilera Silva, David Gorman, Oswaldo Galicia, and Paul Andres Sierra, SUCH A SASSITA!!) had me running around with her playing freeze tag and getting her out of trouble. Then, before I knew it I had a wonderful face full of stickers, courtesy of Fernando, Maite, and Mari Elouise. I had no clue that I had about 15 stickers on my face until they started taking them off. When I asked the older girls whether or not that would be a good look for las discotechas, they told me that I would certainly get attention, but probably not the kind I wanted.
After having my alternative make-up done, we headed to the artisan market shop, which was actually opened this time. Of course, I walked in and bought a pair of mittens, yes for you Dad, with a jellyfish sticker still on my cheek, how glorious. Afterwards there was a little bit of drama with one of the now nine FIMRCers, but it should all be okay since the instigator is scheduled to leave on Friday anyways. Let's face it, it's been a miracle that we all get along so well, and I feel so incredibly blessed to have these people as my eight or nine (we still miss you, Clare!) housemates, roommates, FIMRCers, and most importantly, friends.
By the way, the picture is courtesy of Emily VavRosky.
Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58
Tired of being clean, sick of being proper. I wanna live among the beggars and dig out in the dirt. Step outside the walls we built to protect us, don't be afraid to get some mud on your face. Come on, come on, everybody. Come on, come on and serve someone. Let's get dirty, let's get used. No matter where you come from if you're beaten up or bruised. Let's get dirty, let's give free. Free to be the one thing, you were meant to be. "Dirty" by Audio Adrenaline
After the hospital it was time for the Special Needs School. Trying to avoid last week's episode we divided up and went to classrooms and then went outside to play in small groups. Of course I had to find my best friend Jefery and we hung out for a little bit, soaking up some rays and playing with ribbons. Soon Jefery left me and I had to make a new friend, Cristian. Cristian is incredibly mobile, but still can't really articulate any ideas clearly. We had a grand old time digging in the dirt (one of my favorite pastimes, I must admit), walking around, and just holding hands. Before we knew it we had to shepherd the kids back to their classrooms and I had to help Jefery finish up his lunch. He must have known that I called his drool beautiful last week, because I was soaked with slobber by the time I hopped into the van. As much as that places runs me ragged, I absolutely adore it.
That afternoon it was off to Rosario Orphanage to teach a lesson on what to do in natural disasters and emergency situations. It is so much fun to egg the kids on and encourage participation. Afterwards, it was fútbol, fútbol, fútbol... and coloring/english tutoring. You can imagine how delight I was when Lake Michigan was the topic of an exercise in Doris' english book.
This morning we did more surgical rounds and actually got nods of approval from some of the surgeons after I knew and explained what the CDC was to some of the surgical residents. Unfortunately, one of the surgeons that we shadowed was kind of a pompous jerk, but hey, you win some you lose some. After rounds Emily and I got interrogated by some incredibly nice nursing students curious about us, our organization, opinions of Huancayo culture, marital statuses (dead serious, one of the top ten most frequently asked questions I've been confronted with), you name it, it was asked. They were so much fun to chat with and I can't wait to see them tomorrow.
From the hospital we went to Rosario to give another presentation on emergency and natural disaster situations. Then it was back to the homestay and then to the main plaza to shop. Well, we intended to shop, but the store was closed for siesta so instead we walked around, enjoyed some ice cream (Ev, they may not have chocolate chip ice cream at Sherman's, but they have it in Huancayo :) ) and my personal favorite, fresh juice. I had a fresh banana with milk juice (it's basically a milkshake but better for you), and the best part was they ran out of cups so she made a makeshift juice-pouch out of a to-go bag. Seriously, who needs a juice box when you can have a juice bag.
 |
| Mari Elouise and me, at the beginning of the makeover |
After having my alternative make-up done, we headed to the artisan market shop, which was actually opened this time. Of course, I walked in and bought a pair of mittens, yes for you Dad, with a jellyfish sticker still on my cheek, how glorious. Afterwards there was a little bit of drama with one of the now nine FIMRCers, but it should all be okay since the instigator is scheduled to leave on Friday anyways. Let's face it, it's been a miracle that we all get along so well, and I feel so incredibly blessed to have these people as my eight or nine (we still miss you, Clare!) housemates, roommates, FIMRCers, and most importantly, friends.
By the way, the picture is courtesy of Emily VavRosky.
Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58
Tired of being clean, sick of being proper. I wanna live among the beggars and dig out in the dirt. Step outside the walls we built to protect us, don't be afraid to get some mud on your face. Come on, come on, everybody. Come on, come on and serve someone. Let's get dirty, let's get used. No matter where you come from if you're beaten up or bruised. Let's get dirty, let's give free. Free to be the one thing, you were meant to be. "Dirty" by Audio Adrenaline
Monday, June 20, 2011
Just Another Day in Paradise
While Torre Torre was an adventure, our weekend was far from over when 275 Brasilia woke up on Sunday morning. After downing our breakfast, we were on a mission, we were destined for the Sunday artisan market in Huancayo. Since our group is 9 people, we have to take two cabs, and you guessed it, one cab made it to the market and the other cab got dropped off at another market... guess which cab I was in. Yep, instead of arriving at the artisan market my cab ended up at the REAL Sunday market for actual Peruvians. Lena, Scott, Piyush and myself wandered and weaved our way through block after block of this bazaar of overstimulation. Everywhere you looked there were shoes, traditional wool highlander skirts, hanging dead chickens, pig carcasses, mounds of oranges, you name it, it was being sold at this market... well, with the exception of artisan goods, ha ha ha. While we were in fact slightly confused and disoriented, I LOVED IT. I felt as though I was Anthony Bourdain (watch his show, "No Reservations" it's a real gem) on some sort of ridiculous culinary quest in an exotic maze of unidentifiable items and scents. Somehow after an hour and a half of exploring we ended up at Plaza Vea, a big mall in Huancayo and took a taxi to a location we were familiar with, Plaza Constitución.
The whole point to go to that plaza (besides the fact that we knew it really well) was that they had an indoor artisan market on one of the corners. Well, much to our surprise, when we arrived we actually crashed a festival for El Día del Campesino. We made our way through the random throngs of people and got to the door of Casa de Artesanía, to find that it was closed. A little disgruntled and down, we stopped at a local juice bar to strategize and get some sugar in our systems. After we perked up a bit we stopped at a hotel to ask about this elusive market that to us might as well have been Atlantis or the Holy Grail. Luckily, the concierge knew exactly what we were talking about and we were apparently within walking distance. Delighted we arrived at the REAL market and were reunited with the other half of our group very quickly, after all nine of us probably make up at least 75% of the gringo population of Huancayo. After some heavy duty shopping (my total bill was about 28.60 US dollars woot woot) we returned to our home and pretty much passed out and rested for the rest of the day. But I did have a wonderful skype session with my Mom and Dad, thanks for being funny and marvelous people!
This morning we headed to Daniel Carrión hospital as usual, but this time we switched rotations. Meaning, that for the next two weeks I shadow surgical rounds instead of internal medicine rounds. For Emily and me, this week is men's surgery rotations, and boy do I miss internal medicine. Practically every patient had a scar from a removed gallbladder, with the exception of the fascinating patient who had scars from being gored
by a bull. Where are the infected venomous spider bites, thyroid abscesses, rat poisonings and pneumonia patients? Just a whole lot of monotony in the surgical ward. Also, earlier on the trip, Lena, a fellow FIMRCer, told me that I had a great demeanor with the doctors, and now I get why. It's because for the past two summers I have volunteered at Chelsea Community Hospital as a nurse's aide in the surgical recovery room, and most of the doctors I would see were surgeons. Let's just put it like this, if you know the surgeon stereotype (yes, there are exceptions), it's the same in Peru... no Dr. Yumpo's on today's rounds. Afterwards it was time to play some Pictionary with the psych ward patients at the insurance hospital, I seriously wanted to frame the one schizophrenic patient's drawing of a dog.
This afternoon it was time to teach our lesson about contamination to the kids at the HIV shelter. Our lesson was delayed at first because the kids weren't done with their homework. I absolutely loved helping Sajnary with her history, Spanish and English homework and teaching Valentino (I would seriously swipe him if I could) the 9's multiplication trick on his fingers. I know I've mentioned it before, but this trip has completely validated my decision to not go into medicine. During our lunchtime siesta I was reading the book, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor... and Yourself, a really insightful book with a biblical perspective about poverty alleviation. I was enjoying my time reading and soaking up some rays on the roof when a line stood out at me basically saying that work is meant as an act of worship. Yes, it is simple enough to comprehend, I probably heard it in Sunday School or on other Missions trips at nauseam. But this time it impacted me differently. Immediately my mind raced through the activities I've been doing these past weeks here in Huancayo, and it all just made sense. For me, the hospital is not where I thrive. It's interacting with the kids, it's learning from the moms at the HIV shelter or the volunteer "moms" at Rosario discussing first aide or nutrition where I feel like I'm fulfilling my purpose. Honestly, the validation, peace and overall feeling of content is worth it all. I'm just living another day in my own personal paradise.
Where you invest your love, you invest your life. "Awake my Soul" by Mumford and Sons
The whole point to go to that plaza (besides the fact that we knew it really well) was that they had an indoor artisan market on one of the corners. Well, much to our surprise, when we arrived we actually crashed a festival for El Día del Campesino. We made our way through the random throngs of people and got to the door of Casa de Artesanía, to find that it was closed. A little disgruntled and down, we stopped at a local juice bar to strategize and get some sugar in our systems. After we perked up a bit we stopped at a hotel to ask about this elusive market that to us might as well have been Atlantis or the Holy Grail. Luckily, the concierge knew exactly what we were talking about and we were apparently within walking distance. Delighted we arrived at the REAL market and were reunited with the other half of our group very quickly, after all nine of us probably make up at least 75% of the gringo population of Huancayo. After some heavy duty shopping (my total bill was about 28.60 US dollars woot woot) we returned to our home and pretty much passed out and rested for the rest of the day. But I did have a wonderful skype session with my Mom and Dad, thanks for being funny and marvelous people!
This morning we headed to Daniel Carrión hospital as usual, but this time we switched rotations. Meaning, that for the next two weeks I shadow surgical rounds instead of internal medicine rounds. For Emily and me, this week is men's surgery rotations, and boy do I miss internal medicine. Practically every patient had a scar from a removed gallbladder, with the exception of the fascinating patient who had scars from being gored
by a bull. Where are the infected venomous spider bites, thyroid abscesses, rat poisonings and pneumonia patients? Just a whole lot of monotony in the surgical ward. Also, earlier on the trip, Lena, a fellow FIMRCer, told me that I had a great demeanor with the doctors, and now I get why. It's because for the past two summers I have volunteered at Chelsea Community Hospital as a nurse's aide in the surgical recovery room, and most of the doctors I would see were surgeons. Let's just put it like this, if you know the surgeon stereotype (yes, there are exceptions), it's the same in Peru... no Dr. Yumpo's on today's rounds. Afterwards it was time to play some Pictionary with the psych ward patients at the insurance hospital, I seriously wanted to frame the one schizophrenic patient's drawing of a dog.
This afternoon it was time to teach our lesson about contamination to the kids at the HIV shelter. Our lesson was delayed at first because the kids weren't done with their homework. I absolutely loved helping Sajnary with her history, Spanish and English homework and teaching Valentino (I would seriously swipe him if I could) the 9's multiplication trick on his fingers. I know I've mentioned it before, but this trip has completely validated my decision to not go into medicine. During our lunchtime siesta I was reading the book, When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor... and Yourself, a really insightful book with a biblical perspective about poverty alleviation. I was enjoying my time reading and soaking up some rays on the roof when a line stood out at me basically saying that work is meant as an act of worship. Yes, it is simple enough to comprehend, I probably heard it in Sunday School or on other Missions trips at nauseam. But this time it impacted me differently. Immediately my mind raced through the activities I've been doing these past weeks here in Huancayo, and it all just made sense. For me, the hospital is not where I thrive. It's interacting with the kids, it's learning from the moms at the HIV shelter or the volunteer "moms" at Rosario discussing first aide or nutrition where I feel like I'm fulfilling my purpose. Honestly, the validation, peace and overall feeling of content is worth it all. I'm just living another day in my own personal paradise.
Where you invest your love, you invest your life. "Awake my Soul" by Mumford and Sons
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Poppa didn't raise no fool.
As usual, we've been pretty busy since Thursday. Yesterday was bittersweet. We had a great time traveling to different schools in Sicaya. At the Florida School, we did our lesson about the importance of washing hands and brushing teeth again, played games with the kids and evaluated the cleanliness and safety of the school. I seriously must be a "chill kid" magnet, because before I knew it I had the most adorable little boy sitting in my lap who was content just watching the other kids play. This school actually passed with flying colors (for the most part) and so we didn't end up spending much time there.
Then we went back to the school we went to the week before, Vincente (something-or-other with a really complicated last name), to celebrate the school's 46th anniversary. Boy was it a celebration. We started off with a rather long mass, but it was so great. There's something about hearing the Bible in another language that puts things into proper perspective. After the mass all of the school children did peruvian dance in traditional attire. IT WAS ADORABLE. I seriously almost pulled an Angelina Jolie and stole a couple of kids, but don't worry guys, I didn't. I mean, there parents were right there and our living quarters are fairly packed as it is. Once the oldest kids were done with their dance they took each of us and made us do the traditional dance with them. Needless to say, hilarity ensued. Everyone and their mother (literally) wanted their pictures with us. Granted, there are like NO other gringos here in Huancayo (we actually saw one the other day and pointed and stared, just like the peruvians), but it still made me feel kind of uncomfortable. Here are these kids that just performed and some of the moms wanted pictures with us instead of them, odd to say the least.
Our next stop on the hit parade was EsSalud, the insurance hospital, for a lesson by their volunteers. What we didn't realize was that the lesson was on a very complicated dance from the north of Peru. I couldn't tell you how many times the Spanish words for "to flirt," "conquest," and "intensity" were used. We were dying of laughter. Once that was over (and thank God for that) we were off to the school to have a lesson about how to take a medical history. It was interesting enough but then reality started to set in, our dearest Clare Gillett, one of us was leaving late that night. We arrived home and were greeted by a spectacular dinner prepared by our housemom, Elena, in honor of Clare's last meal. We were immediately handed pisco sours (SO much better than the last one I had), oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and Lomo Saltado. Lomo Saltado is ridiculously good, it consists of pieces of beef tenderloin grilled with onions, tomatoes, and other delicious goodies. We all stayed up to bid Clare "adieu" (she's Canadian and speaks Spanish with a French accent, that's right Clare, I just went there) and then passed out.
This morning we woke up early to discover a little bit more of Huancayo. There are these incredible rock formations, called Torre Torre, on the outskirts of the city that we were dying to go to. We were told by our director Elena and our housemom Elena to go in the morning, since it's in a not so great part of town. At first, we didn't really understand what they were talking about, the people seemed friendly and the barrio appeared clean. We were so close to the base of the main part of Torre Torre when we understood. We had noticed that there were two guys kind of meandering along the side of the mountain and little kid was following us. We had a brief pow wow on the path and decided to put Scott and Spencer (the two guys in our group) at the front and at the rear and the six girls (Sarah, Callie, Lena, Emily, Lauren and me) in the middle, and Spencer led the way with his hand on his knife (see Dad, I didn't need to bring my mace!) the entire time. They appeared to leave us along at first, but the paranoia that has been ingrained in me since I was a wee tot didn't cease (good work, Pops).
Once we got to the base of Torre Torre I looked up at the steep ascent with little footing and knew that wouldn't necessarily be the best choice for me, so Emily and I stayed at the base while the others crawled their way up. Sitting there, I just prayed that nothing bad would happen and Emily and I took turns watching the guys and the little boy like hawks. While I was paranoid, I wasn't physically or visually freaking out (guess what Guatey's! I DO have a poker face in important situations!!). At one point one of the guys got on the opposite side of the crest where the path we took to enter was and I knew this was bad news. Thanks Mr. Schepansky for teaching me the art of the ambush and how it is most effective when achieved with a multi-front attack, because I was NOT about to go back down on that path. Luckily there were alternate routes and our group slowly weaved our way down the hills and through more gorgeous rock formations. When we got to a main road we were out of sight of the men and quickly took a taxi to the main square of Huancayo for some sustenance. So Pops, consider my safety a Father's Day present and thanks for brainwashing me to be paranoid :). And Happy early Father's Day to all!
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (...) Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23:4 & 6 (Not only was it fitting but it also was one of my Papa Janda's favorite Bible verses.
Then we went back to the school we went to the week before, Vincente (something-or-other with a really complicated last name), to celebrate the school's 46th anniversary. Boy was it a celebration. We started off with a rather long mass, but it was so great. There's something about hearing the Bible in another language that puts things into proper perspective. After the mass all of the school children did peruvian dance in traditional attire. IT WAS ADORABLE. I seriously almost pulled an Angelina Jolie and stole a couple of kids, but don't worry guys, I didn't. I mean, there parents were right there and our living quarters are fairly packed as it is. Once the oldest kids were done with their dance they took each of us and made us do the traditional dance with them. Needless to say, hilarity ensued. Everyone and their mother (literally) wanted their pictures with us. Granted, there are like NO other gringos here in Huancayo (we actually saw one the other day and pointed and stared, just like the peruvians), but it still made me feel kind of uncomfortable. Here are these kids that just performed and some of the moms wanted pictures with us instead of them, odd to say the least.
Our next stop on the hit parade was EsSalud, the insurance hospital, for a lesson by their volunteers. What we didn't realize was that the lesson was on a very complicated dance from the north of Peru. I couldn't tell you how many times the Spanish words for "to flirt," "conquest," and "intensity" were used. We were dying of laughter. Once that was over (and thank God for that) we were off to the school to have a lesson about how to take a medical history. It was interesting enough but then reality started to set in, our dearest Clare Gillett, one of us was leaving late that night. We arrived home and were greeted by a spectacular dinner prepared by our housemom, Elena, in honor of Clare's last meal. We were immediately handed pisco sours (SO much better than the last one I had), oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and Lomo Saltado. Lomo Saltado is ridiculously good, it consists of pieces of beef tenderloin grilled with onions, tomatoes, and other delicious goodies. We all stayed up to bid Clare "adieu" (she's Canadian and speaks Spanish with a French accent, that's right Clare, I just went there) and then passed out.
This morning we woke up early to discover a little bit more of Huancayo. There are these incredible rock formations, called Torre Torre, on the outskirts of the city that we were dying to go to. We were told by our director Elena and our housemom Elena to go in the morning, since it's in a not so great part of town. At first, we didn't really understand what they were talking about, the people seemed friendly and the barrio appeared clean. We were so close to the base of the main part of Torre Torre when we understood. We had noticed that there were two guys kind of meandering along the side of the mountain and little kid was following us. We had a brief pow wow on the path and decided to put Scott and Spencer (the two guys in our group) at the front and at the rear and the six girls (Sarah, Callie, Lena, Emily, Lauren and me) in the middle, and Spencer led the way with his hand on his knife (see Dad, I didn't need to bring my mace!) the entire time. They appeared to leave us along at first, but the paranoia that has been ingrained in me since I was a wee tot didn't cease (good work, Pops).
Once we got to the base of Torre Torre I looked up at the steep ascent with little footing and knew that wouldn't necessarily be the best choice for me, so Emily and I stayed at the base while the others crawled their way up. Sitting there, I just prayed that nothing bad would happen and Emily and I took turns watching the guys and the little boy like hawks. While I was paranoid, I wasn't physically or visually freaking out (guess what Guatey's! I DO have a poker face in important situations!!). At one point one of the guys got on the opposite side of the crest where the path we took to enter was and I knew this was bad news. Thanks Mr. Schepansky for teaching me the art of the ambush and how it is most effective when achieved with a multi-front attack, because I was NOT about to go back down on that path. Luckily there were alternate routes and our group slowly weaved our way down the hills and through more gorgeous rock formations. When we got to a main road we were out of sight of the men and quickly took a taxi to the main square of Huancayo for some sustenance. So Pops, consider my safety a Father's Day present and thanks for brainwashing me to be paranoid :). And Happy early Father's Day to all!
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (...) Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Psalm 23:4 & 6 (Not only was it fitting but it also was one of my Papa Janda's favorite Bible verses.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
So an orphan, a schizophrenic and an impoverished elementary schooler...
Before embarking on this adventure, I was kind of in denial about a lot of aspects of my trip. Unlike many of my friends and family, I never was really that worried. Malaria, Yellow Fever, Dengue, being kidnapped, random gang violence, getting ripped off my a cabbie, having my passport stolen, severe altitude sickness, somehow acquiring a parasite, being lost in translation... definitely on my radar as things to avoid, but nothing I legitimately feared. As I was flying over the Gulf of Mexico, I started to wonder if none of these things bothered me because I was being overly optimistic and ignorant or if I just knew I was supposed to go to Peru. After being in Huancayo for over a week and a half now, I have a definitive answer.
In short, I'm just at peace. There's something oddly homey about Huancayo, and Peru in general. Granted, there are somethings here that are not quite the same as home. Whether it's the presence of rice at every meal, the altitude that makes you weeze after scaling three consecutive flights of stairs, doing laundry a fresco by hand (yeah, Al, I hand washed my laundry today on the roof, be jealous), or the phantom presence of toilet paper (many places in Peru don't have toilet paper in the first place, and if you chose to use it, then you have to throw it out in a trash can next to the toilet since the plumbing system can't handle it, this is common in many Latin American countries), it's definitely not the States. However, (sorry fam) I'm not homesick. At first I thought it was because I'm not the "homesick type," but the last couple days have made it very clear that there is something much deeper drawing me to love Peru and what we're doing here.
I mentioned earlier that I'm no longer an aspiring doctor, and that was a really difficult realization to come to. For those of you who didn't know, I truly felt called to do medical mission work in Latin America. At first, I was so against it... I mean I always said I never wanted to be a doctor (I know, I know, just like I always said I would never go to Bucknell). But soon it became clear to me that the plan God had for me included that field. Everything was going smoothly until the middle/end of first semester of my sophomore year. I put so much stress and pressure on myself and I didn't like who I was becoming, or rather how I was fading. Whether I liked it or not, I made my future career too much of my identity, and my true self was just a faded image of what I was truly designed to be. After barely swallowing the notion that medicine could not be the right career path for me, I freaked out. Luckily I had amazing family and friends there to deal with me and sort it all out. Before I knew it, God comforted me and pointed me in the right direction, the same direction as before, but an alternate route. The whole reason I liked medicine in the first place was the idea of helping those who did not have access to adequate health care or health education. The field of public health hit me like a freight train and has been something I've seriously been considering ever since.
After arriving in Peru, some things have become blatantly clear. While I love the hospital and some of the doctors I have the privilege of shadowing, the white coat is NOT for me. The first day when they gave it to us, I put it on and immediately wanted to rip it off. Honestly, it felt sort of like kryptonite to me. Here was this crowning achievement, the white coat, that I had put on this pedestal for so long and here it was taunting me. I was nervous that I would succumb to the siren song of the coat, but it has no effect on me. Now after spending two weeks going to El Rosario Orphanage, psych wards, pediatric inpatient clinics, rural schools, the special needs school and the HIV shelter it is safe to say, I love people that are ostracized by society. The fact that I get to teach orphans about proper hygiene or help them with their english homework, do origami with schizophrenics, console parents of chronically ill children, color princess pictures with kids infected with HIV, give fluoride treatments to elementary schoolers and do traditional peruvian dances with students at an impoverished rural school is what gets me out of bed in the morning. I know, it sounds like a really bad joke, but that's my life here in Huancayo and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow. Isaiah 1:17
We are called to the widows and the orphans, but it's easy to ignore their silent cries. Oh, but every single time someone reaches out into the darkness, makes a choice to help the helpless, they let mercy save a life. (...) So let worlds collide and colors fade. Let your life, be the miracle today. "One Less" by Matthew West
I mentioned earlier that I'm no longer an aspiring doctor, and that was a really difficult realization to come to. For those of you who didn't know, I truly felt called to do medical mission work in Latin America. At first, I was so against it... I mean I always said I never wanted to be a doctor (I know, I know, just like I always said I would never go to Bucknell). But soon it became clear to me that the plan God had for me included that field. Everything was going smoothly until the middle/end of first semester of my sophomore year. I put so much stress and pressure on myself and I didn't like who I was becoming, or rather how I was fading. Whether I liked it or not, I made my future career too much of my identity, and my true self was just a faded image of what I was truly designed to be. After barely swallowing the notion that medicine could not be the right career path for me, I freaked out. Luckily I had amazing family and friends there to deal with me and sort it all out. Before I knew it, God comforted me and pointed me in the right direction, the same direction as before, but an alternate route. The whole reason I liked medicine in the first place was the idea of helping those who did not have access to adequate health care or health education. The field of public health hit me like a freight train and has been something I've seriously been considering ever since.
After arriving in Peru, some things have become blatantly clear. While I love the hospital and some of the doctors I have the privilege of shadowing, the white coat is NOT for me. The first day when they gave it to us, I put it on and immediately wanted to rip it off. Honestly, it felt sort of like kryptonite to me. Here was this crowning achievement, the white coat, that I had put on this pedestal for so long and here it was taunting me. I was nervous that I would succumb to the siren song of the coat, but it has no effect on me. Now after spending two weeks going to El Rosario Orphanage, psych wards, pediatric inpatient clinics, rural schools, the special needs school and the HIV shelter it is safe to say, I love people that are ostracized by society. The fact that I get to teach orphans about proper hygiene or help them with their english homework, do origami with schizophrenics, console parents of chronically ill children, color princess pictures with kids infected with HIV, give fluoride treatments to elementary schoolers and do traditional peruvian dances with students at an impoverished rural school is what gets me out of bed in the morning. I know, it sounds like a really bad joke, but that's my life here in Huancayo and I wouldn't want it any other way.
Learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow. Isaiah 1:17
We are called to the widows and the orphans, but it's easy to ignore their silent cries. Oh, but every single time someone reaches out into the darkness, makes a choice to help the helpless, they let mercy save a life. (...) So let worlds collide and colors fade. Let your life, be the miracle today. "One Less" by Matthew West
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Spit Bubbles and Drool are Beautiful
Yesterday was a day like any other here in Huancayo. We started off with rounds in the men's internal medicine ward at Daniel Carrión and went to the insurance hospital to do arts and crafts and interact with psych ward patients. Then we were off to the HIV shelter in the afternoon to spend time with the kids and teach them a lesson about professions. I had a great time coloring with Kelly, a six year old little girl, and doing puzzles with Jean Pierre (yeah, I know, a French name in Peru, weird), a three year old little boy. That night we went to a local joint, Antejitos, a place with live music and had a fantastic night of latin dancing. Thank GOD, my latin dancing has improved significantly upon arriving here in Peru.
Today was different, definitely different. We arrived at the internal medicine unit at Daniel Carrión Hospital and had to wait in the hallway for a bit, this has become a custom since Peruvian time isn't exactly as punctual as American time. Suddenly our chatter about the night before and funny pictures was shattered by the piercing scream of a woman down the hall. At first her words were unidentifiable but the deep pain in which she bellowed was clear, no translation necessary. After she calmed down a bit (granted, she was still sobbing and screaming) I could make out the reason for her distress. Apparently her son was in the hospital, and when she came to visit him this morning his bed was empty, he had passed away and no one contacted her. Here she was in the hospital, carrying a bag of her son's favorite treats to ease his pain and put a smile on his face, and she is greeted by an empty bed and the news of the death of her son. As physicians, nurses and technicians tried to comfort and console her she would snap that they were the ones that killed her son, and why were they trying to ease her pain when they did nothing for her boy. A crowd started to gather at the opposite end of the hallway where we were standing and the tension was palpable. It was hard enough to hear her mourning cries, but I had to translate them for the others in the group, which caused me to sort of dwell in her situation and stew over it. Nothing could shake her cries and her words from my ears, it was on a constant loop that just wouldn't end. I was rather somber and quiet for the rest of my time at the hospital, not even shadowing rounds with Dr. Yumpo or talking with Piera, one of our favorite medical students, snapped me out of my haze.
Once we left the hospital it was time to go to the special needs school. To put it simply, we had a bit of a rough time there. Since it was really sunny the teachers wanted the kids to play in the "rec room" and boy was it crammed. Hula hoops, balls, papers, you name it were flying everywhere and these kids just would not settle down. Then there was a fighting epidemic where all the little and big boys wanted to push, shove, punch, kick, wrestle, tackle, and strangle each other. It got to the point where we had to actually kick kids out of the rec room since they were such a danger to the others. At one point, one kid punched a kid in a wheelchair, Jefery's, head, and that's when I scolded the kid and pulled up a chair to personally guard Jefery. Jefery is at maximum 10 years old and is pretty much confined to a wheelchair, however he has incredible upper body strength and can slither somewhere if he's desperate. Also, Jefery can hear and understand, but can't really control his mouth, so he drools a lot and only makes grunting noises if he feels uncomfortable or scared. I sat there, patting his arm and put a hula hoop around him so he could be like the other kids as he watched the old, fading tv screen intently. Every time someone on the screen danced he would get a huge smile on his face and would kind of bop his head.
At one point I had to get up to stop a kid who was throwing chairs at other kids, when all of the sudden Jefery grabbed my hand and put it back on his arm, so I would continue to pat him. I sat back down (after I stopped the chair thrower, don't worry), stunned and humbled beyond belief. Here is a child who will never be able to walk or run or play or dance, and who instead of being bitter about what he can't do, gets great joy out of watching others do what he could only dream of doing. And, all he wants is to have a simple touch of acknowledgment, for others to know that he is special and worthy of attention. My heart both swelled and broke for Jefery. If only others, including myself, had that type of attitude. How often do I sit there and complain about the things I cannot do and dwell on my own inadequacies instead of praising God for the gifts that others have that I do not. Our society is so "me" driven that taking time to appreciate the talents that others are blessed with, just as an act of praise, is such a foreign notion to digest. We all try to act like we have it all together: to be smart, athletic, attractive, funny, social... essentially, invincible. And the funny thing is that the most beautiful thing I've seen in Peru thus far is not a cascading waterfall or the towering Andes, it's the spit bubble filled smile and drool soaked chin of a handicapped little boy.
People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kindom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10: 13-14
Let us love like we were children, make us feel like we're still living, in a world I know is burning to the ground. Give us time to beat the system, make us find what we've been missing, in a world I know is burning to the ground. (...) Take a chance on the long shot this time, aren't we all just at least worth another a try... "Let us Love" -Needtobreathe
Today was different, definitely different. We arrived at the internal medicine unit at Daniel Carrión Hospital and had to wait in the hallway for a bit, this has become a custom since Peruvian time isn't exactly as punctual as American time. Suddenly our chatter about the night before and funny pictures was shattered by the piercing scream of a woman down the hall. At first her words were unidentifiable but the deep pain in which she bellowed was clear, no translation necessary. After she calmed down a bit (granted, she was still sobbing and screaming) I could make out the reason for her distress. Apparently her son was in the hospital, and when she came to visit him this morning his bed was empty, he had passed away and no one contacted her. Here she was in the hospital, carrying a bag of her son's favorite treats to ease his pain and put a smile on his face, and she is greeted by an empty bed and the news of the death of her son. As physicians, nurses and technicians tried to comfort and console her she would snap that they were the ones that killed her son, and why were they trying to ease her pain when they did nothing for her boy. A crowd started to gather at the opposite end of the hallway where we were standing and the tension was palpable. It was hard enough to hear her mourning cries, but I had to translate them for the others in the group, which caused me to sort of dwell in her situation and stew over it. Nothing could shake her cries and her words from my ears, it was on a constant loop that just wouldn't end. I was rather somber and quiet for the rest of my time at the hospital, not even shadowing rounds with Dr. Yumpo or talking with Piera, one of our favorite medical students, snapped me out of my haze.
Once we left the hospital it was time to go to the special needs school. To put it simply, we had a bit of a rough time there. Since it was really sunny the teachers wanted the kids to play in the "rec room" and boy was it crammed. Hula hoops, balls, papers, you name it were flying everywhere and these kids just would not settle down. Then there was a fighting epidemic where all the little and big boys wanted to push, shove, punch, kick, wrestle, tackle, and strangle each other. It got to the point where we had to actually kick kids out of the rec room since they were such a danger to the others. At one point, one kid punched a kid in a wheelchair, Jefery's, head, and that's when I scolded the kid and pulled up a chair to personally guard Jefery. Jefery is at maximum 10 years old and is pretty much confined to a wheelchair, however he has incredible upper body strength and can slither somewhere if he's desperate. Also, Jefery can hear and understand, but can't really control his mouth, so he drools a lot and only makes grunting noises if he feels uncomfortable or scared. I sat there, patting his arm and put a hula hoop around him so he could be like the other kids as he watched the old, fading tv screen intently. Every time someone on the screen danced he would get a huge smile on his face and would kind of bop his head.
At one point I had to get up to stop a kid who was throwing chairs at other kids, when all of the sudden Jefery grabbed my hand and put it back on his arm, so I would continue to pat him. I sat back down (after I stopped the chair thrower, don't worry), stunned and humbled beyond belief. Here is a child who will never be able to walk or run or play or dance, and who instead of being bitter about what he can't do, gets great joy out of watching others do what he could only dream of doing. And, all he wants is to have a simple touch of acknowledgment, for others to know that he is special and worthy of attention. My heart both swelled and broke for Jefery. If only others, including myself, had that type of attitude. How often do I sit there and complain about the things I cannot do and dwell on my own inadequacies instead of praising God for the gifts that others have that I do not. Our society is so "me" driven that taking time to appreciate the talents that others are blessed with, just as an act of praise, is such a foreign notion to digest. We all try to act like we have it all together: to be smart, athletic, attractive, funny, social... essentially, invincible. And the funny thing is that the most beautiful thing I've seen in Peru thus far is not a cascading waterfall or the towering Andes, it's the spit bubble filled smile and drool soaked chin of a handicapped little boy.
People were bringing little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kindom of God belongs to such as these." Mark 10: 13-14
Let us love like we were children, make us feel like we're still living, in a world I know is burning to the ground. Give us time to beat the system, make us find what we've been missing, in a world I know is burning to the ground. (...) Take a chance on the long shot this time, aren't we all just at least worth another a try... "Let us Love" -Needtobreathe
Sunday, June 12, 2011
FIMRC does Jungle Book
So on the first real day of our program we had a great FIMRC group bonding session where we read a blog entry from a former FIMRCer about the jungle near La Merced. Honestly, it was one of the funniest things I’ve ever read in my entire life, and you could have heard our roaring laughter blocks upon blocks away. Every sentence was a metaphor to how breathtaking Mother Nature was and it was pure hilarity. That night everyone agreed that we had to go to this mystical jungle as soon as possible and create a "Jungle Book" experience of our own, despite the fact that the Jungle Book took place in Asia.
And this weekend has certainly been an adventure! We left early Saturday morning for the town of La Merced, about 4 hours north of Huancayo. It was an absolutely incredible drive filled with quotes from that awful blog entry. Watching the terrain switch from the rather arid mountains in the central highlands to farmland to gorgeous green jungle was unbelievable. The tight switchbacks up and down the Andes were crazy! Our driver, Henri, is so talented at navigating the tight passes.
By the time we got to La Merced, it was time for our first hike. We hiked on a path through la selva that crisscrossed over various creeks and rivers and ended at a 45 foot tall waterfall. While the altitude of La Merced was much lower than that of Huancayo, it was at least 85 degrees and SO HUMID, which made it pretty hard to breathe once you were winded. Once we arrived at the waterfall the mist was so refreshing, after all it was about a 2 mile hike that was predominantly uphill. We didn't swim in it since we were going someplace that was safe to swim the following day.
Afterwards we headed to lunch at a "traditional" peruvian restaurant. I decided to cross something off my bucket-list by eating something that was completely foreign to me, zamaño. Apparently it is like a overgrown speckled jungle guinea pig (guinea pig, cuy, is a delicacy in Peru) and it was incredibly tasty, similar to a more gamier tasting pork. Once we cleaned our plates we headed to the "indigenous" village of Pampa Michi. At first we were really excited when we were greeted by women and children in traditional garb who then dressed us up to match them. That's right, a bunch of gringos wearing geometric patterned tunics, diagonal beaded belts made of seeds, headbands with feathers and face paint... don't worry there are pictures. They told us a brief history of their people, and danced with us and it became rather clear that this was a tourist trap. Thank you P-CEP history department for sharpening my skill of sniffing out historically inaccurate BS, because this place kind of wreaked of it. Honestly, we were all pretty stoked to get the heck out of there.
Nothing cures a weary gringo like organically-grown, fair-trade coffee, and luckily our dearest Henri knew that, and we were off to a coffee wholesaler. Feeling wide awake after several free coffee and gelato samples we were off to our hostel in La Merced. Starving we finally found a restaurant and I ordered my first pisco sour and last (Disclaimer: The drinking age in Peru is 18, so I am legal). The pisco sour is the national drink of Peru and consists of Pisco (a distilled grape liquer), egg whites, lime juice, sugar and cinnamon, and I found it rather gross. And that wasn't the only thing that was a bit funky about that night. To put it simply, the town of La Merced is a rather weird place. After much deliberation, the best comparison I can think of is to the UP (Upper Peninsula to all you non-Michiganders), the place is physically gorgeous, but the residents are really bizarre.
Early this morning we were off to another hour north of La Merced to another set of waterfalls in the jungle, and we beat all the other tourists. The first waterfall we went to was called "The Bride's Veil" and we had to hike about 25 minutes down super steep paths and rock stairways, but it was so worth it. After schlepping ourselves back up the steep pathways we continued hiking another 20 minutes up the mountain to a series of waterfalls and natural mineral pools that were safe to swim in. We were all so hot and sweaty by the time that we reached the highest mineral pool that we stripped down to our swimsuits and jumped into the water. The water was so clear and invigorating. We all took turns standing under the waterfalls and in the words of that hilariously flowery blog "had a massage from mother nature." After having a taste of one mineral pool we had to try them all. We hiked down to the middle one and after the advice from Henri who had been to this area several times climbed about 8 feet high to a jumping point and cannonballed (another verb I'm making up, I know) into the deep area of the pool. Again, don't worry, there were no scratches, bruises, scrapes, or injuries, but there are pictures :). We rounded out the natural mineral pool hoping by taking a quick dip in the lowest pool and hiking back down to the van. The entire time you couldn't pay me to wipe the cheesy smile off my face, it was possibly one of the best mornings of my life. On the way out of the jungle we had a quick lunch in La Merced and napped practically the entire 4 hours back to Huancayo.
Now it's back to the grunt work of designing lesson plans for the kids at the HIV shelter for tomorrow! But one thing is for sure, we are all going to sleep like babies tonight.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Gracias a Dios que yo sé Español
I may be a gringa, but at least I'm a gringa that knows a fair amount of Spanish... and thank God for having me change my mind from taking French in high school. There are some FIMRCers that don't know very much Spanish, and I'm honestly so humbled by them. The notion of going to a country for a month and not being able to converse simply with the people would be a NO GO for me. Don't get me wrong, my Spanish is far from perfect, but it's sufficient to get me places and then some. And believe me, I've had plenty of time to practice it here!
On Thursday afternoon we all went to the HIV shelter, and it was such an experience. Most of the girls (including me) did a presentation about nutrition to the moms, and it went surprising well. They loved our "Jeopardy" inspired game and a lot of great questions. Afterwards we hung out with the kids. It was so much fun to read with/to them (I even got complemented on my pronunciation by a 7 year old, and I'm going to take any compliment about my Spanish I can get), color and teach them how to make cootie-catchers circa the 2nd grade. The kids were so smart, courteous and hilarious and we all decided we can't wait to go back!
Friday morning instead of going to the hospital we went to a school outside of Huancayo in the city of Simcaya. When we arrived they were practicing a festival dance for next week and we joined in. Let me tell you, gringos are NOT great Peruvian festival dancers... or at least the 9 of us gringos. We were practically a comedy act for the kids and the PE instructor. Afterwards we did a presentation about the importance of hand washing and brushing your teeth to a variety of preschoolers, elementary schoolers and middle schoolers. I'm not going to lie, our presentation was pretty awesome. We wore our volunteer smocks for the insurance hospital inside out so we looked like teeth, gave a volunteer a giant toothbrush and had them demonstrate proper tooth-brushing technique (I don't think that's actually a verb/word, but I'm going to run with it). Then we gave all the kids flouride treatments to prevent tooth decay. I was one of the three that got to apply the flouride and I really loved it, and no bite marks, SCORE! After the flouride treatments for the middle schoolers we got to help them with their english homework. It was actually more like a two-way tutoring session since they helped me with my Spanish at the same time. Once they were summoned to lunch we had to analyze the cleanliness of the school. Some classrooms had everything (trash cans, first aide, hand washing, and tooth-brushing stations) while others had nothing, and the bathrooms were apparently "Spartan" at best. Our evaluations apparently go to some administration official who will then provide the school with the items they need to be up to code. We finished our time at the school playing a little volleyball, a great way to end the morning.
In the afternoon we went to the insurance hospital to teach some volunteers about first aide. The insurance hospital is so incredibly different from the public hospital that we volunteer at. This hospital is rather similar to those in the US, as opposed to the crumbling and overflowing Carrión Hospital. The volunteers at the hospital were similar in age to us and they were so fun to talk to! They had so many questions and I really can't wait to talk to them more.
We were pretty exhausted by 5pm, but we weren't done yet. We then went to the medical school and were taught a lesson on the Peruvian health care system. To be generous, the lesson was partially in broken Spanglish and a ton of academic Spanish. Being on the otherside of a presentation in a broken foreign language was really interesting. Unfortunately it frustrated a lot of the other participants in the program since they don't understand a ton of Spanish. I really think that the reason why I'm getting so much out of this program is because I am conversational and am getting to the point where I have no problem looking like a gringa idiot.
This weekend we are heading to THE JUNGLE!! WOOOOO!!! The nine of us and our Huancayo driver who is very familiar with the area (and properly vetted, don't worry Dad) are going to El Merced, a jungle to the north of us, to see waterfalls and go to multiple zoos apparently. More details to come! Ciao!
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