So I have now been in Lima f or two weeks. Orientation is over but it was amazingly fun while it lasted. The entire group here is great and they are all very fun to be around. Through orientation we learned strategies to keep ourselves safe in life as well as interesting slang that is only used here. We ate lots of cool Peruvian food and also explored the closest place to get a decent Burger and Pizza. We traveled all around Lima, from the Plaza de Armas to El barrio Chino. All of which was very fun and interesting. A couple of days ago I was able to go down to the beach for the first time since arriving and that was really fun, we all just chilled and listened to music while the sun shone and vendors came around selling Inka Kolas (Peru’s national soft drink, also utterly delicious) and Churros.

One of the things that has been difficult to get use to is the traffic here. As a resident of New Hampshire I view any sort of traffic as inherently evil. In Lima traffic is hell. Riding around in the small, cramped and always full combis while stuck in rush hour (which feels like it always is) is torture beyond belief. Not to mention that in Peru textbooks are incredibly expensive so Professors just photocopy the text. This means that as a student we have to go to the Fotocopiadoras and ask for them to copy the required reading. This wouldn’t be awful if Peruvians believed in lines. But alas they do not and it is typically a giant mass of students yelling there class codes to get the texts they need. It’s incredibly inefficient and it is easily one of my least favorite aspects of being in Peru.

There are some very interesting aspects to Peruvian culture that either does not exist in the United States or is slightly different. Something that I have struggled with is the amount of public displays of affection. It is not uncommon to walk down the street or ride a bus and see a couple sharing a passionate kiss. Another thing is that Peruvians tend to disregard personal space, obviously not out of rudeness but because it’s just not a cultural thing here. The “personal bubble” is a very United States invention and it’s sometimes off putting when speaking with locals who will stand very very close to you. I have only experienced this once or twice and each time it came from none Limenos. Another thing that I have struggled to get use to is the besito, also known as the kiss on the cheek, when greeting or leaving the company of a woman. It’s very strange and can make you uncomfortable but it’s something that’s done here and something that I will have to overcome.

Lima is classified as a desert so it never ever rains. However, it is the most humid place I’ve ever been to in my life. The Summers here are much the same as the one in New England with a high in the 80s or so. The place where it differs is the humidity. In New England the humidity fluctuates day to day and some days are better than others. In Lima, it is always humid. Typically your average day is about 90%-98% humidity. This makes living here an absolute killer. There are days when just getting up from bed has caused me to break out sweating. It also makes me much more tired by the end of the day. But the weather is always consistent which is something to be said. Lets face it, New England can’t exactly say the same.

My time in Lima has been short but I can honestly say that I enjoy being here. There’s something to be said about living in a place that truly feels alive. I use to hate cities but this may change my mind about them. So far my experience has been a rather positive one, there will always be some things that may upset us as people in a new culture but for the most part I can look past most, if not all of them. Some days are obviously harder than others. Some days you miss your friends and family, while sometimes you just simply miss your culture, you miss the consistency of the things you know. In another culture you are always wondering what to do next. But I am happy and that is what counts and I look forward to sharing more of my experiences in future posts.

So I promised that I would share my insight into packing and since this is my last pre-departure post I figured this would be the time.

The important thing to consider when packing is the climate you’re going to, especially when that climate is on the other side of the equator. Taking that into account is very important, it could mean the difference between packing 4 pairs of pants when in reality it’s going to be Summer there. Another thing I found helpful is to set everything outside of your suitcase at first so that you have a rather rough visual of how much stuff you have.  I found it useful to start with about 10 days worth of clothes and then add or subtract as needed. I also suggest packing shoes with purpose. This meaning only pack shoes that 1. You know you will use and 2. serve a specific purpose (ie. Normal everyday shoes, sturdy shoes, etc.). This way you are cutting down on extraneous bulk in your luggage, which is important to take into account because you are more likely to have more stuff coming back then going there. So remember to keep as much space left. It’s also a good idea to try and pack anything in your checked luggage that might be searched on the top of your bag so that airline security doesn’t have to destroy your perfectly packed bag. Another good piece of advice is to listen to your study abroad program when they tell you what should go where, whether x item goes in y bag. That’s really all I can think of to help pack. It’s an odd experience packing up all of your clothes and knowing that the next time they are getting worn is in a different country.

The next post will be once I’ve arrived in Peru. I will also try to get some pictures to go along with it.

a) You will never understand the concept of “cheap” until you’re in Peru. You’ll also fall in love with bartering for the souvenirs you’ve acquired and the stories you’ll hear from the vendors.

b) Never again will you share mate & wine with your professor before, during, and after class.

c) Never again will you see a orange and red colored school buses instead of the familiar banana yellow bus.

d) Never again will you have the most relaxing time of your life. When I first got here, I had to suspend the continual, persistent question: “Am I supposed to be doing something right now? Why do I have free time?” NOPE. Never again will you be comfortable with free time anywhere else.

e) When you’re placed in a country that speaks another language, survival instincts will kick in and you will understand and learn so much more quickly than you ever imagined.

f)  You will never have 2-3 days canceled due to the Viento Zonda (instead of a snow day or something; ” wind day”), and where people attribute headaches & illnesses to the wind (there ARE fires and such, but in northern part of Mendoza. Where I live, it was just really windy and there were higher temperatures).

g) Only in this continent, will you hear Adele EVERYWHERE. Bars, clubs, and restaurants will BLAST the soulful, passionate songs of Adele.

i) Only here, will you walk by people and everyone will be reeking of perfume and cologne. Especially the men. Including the plumbers and street cleaners. Apparently,  cologne marks cleanliness and “freshness.”

j) Only here, will you be reminded every minute, moment, day, of your ethnicity and your status as a foreigner.

k) Only here, will you get the MOST FLATTERING compliments (I will probably never have someone stop traffic for me again, ha) of your life, and the MOST OUTRAGEOUS catcalls of your life.

On another note, if you can understand some Spanish….this video is a parody of “Shit X says.”

Before coming to Argentina, I never dreamed that I’d be able to travel to (the tip of) Patagonia, Chile, and PERU. Even now, I still can’t believe I was at Machu Picchu! I’ve been looking at my pictures non-stop, unable to actually believe it. Is this real life?

Entering Peru was definitely a culture shock, after having lived in both the US and Argentina (at least, for a couple of months). During our taxi ride from the airport, I was surprised by how much I related Peru with India. The amazing scenery, dominating presence of culture, and llamas walking around in the center plazas may have contributed to that sentiment. Although I can’t quite explain it, the Peruvian culture was so alive in every corner of the city. As much as I love the Andes, the mountains looming in the background in Cuzco were breathtaking.

But then of course, there was the element of tourism. There were SO MANY tourists! Since we were at the peak of tourist season (good weather), we had numerous vendors approach us (there was one day where I was approached in English, Japanese, Korean, and Mandarin all consecutively), asking if we needed massage or other tourist services. It was overwhelming!

One thing about Mendoza is that the province generally attracts an older crowd of tourists who mostly come for the wine and stay for a couple of days. But in Peru, the common “young tourist” was a European backpacker either traveling or volunteering (in a jungle, teaching English, etc) with no grasp of Spanish. Pretty interesting. Then of course, there were hordes of tourists, both young and old, from all over the world, to go see Machu Picchu. Due to the tourism, there was a strong presence of commercialism. The Inca legends and history were all hyped up, and exaggerated. The quaint architecture that contained elements of the Incas and colonialism, all housed modern Starbucks, KFC’s, and other fast food chains. Speaking of food: Peruvian food is amazing! We didn’t try alpaca, llama, or guinea pig, but we had delicious chica and other foods. Note: do not eat the Chinese food, at all costs!

Regardless, exploring the different parts of the city was extremely enjoyable. Although during the first few days, my friend and I walked quite slowly due to the altitude. We were out of breath fairly quickly. (Turns out we were lucky, since some other lodgers at our hostel were violently throwing up, yikes). Remember the three rules to prevent altitude sickness: drink before you’re thirsty, eat before you’re hungry, and sleep before you’re tired!

After a few days in Cuzco, we took a bus to Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley, so we could catch a train to Aguas Calientes. Interestingly enough, the train cars were separated for locals and foreigners (and a heavy fine for foreigners who ended up on the locals car). The view of the landscape on the train was absolutely stunning. They served us banana chips (delicious) and corn covered in chocolate (even more delicious).

Of course, the minute we got to Aguas Calientes, we were met with a million faces asking us if we needed hostel, tourist, and bus services. It was too much. We asked the third lady we encountered for the price and she seemed pretty reasonable. She took us to a dingy “hostel” with a sketchy room and a tiny bathroom with only cold water, and one miniscule bar of soap. We were too tired and wary to protest or muster the energy to find another hostel. But somehow, after chowing down on bread and jam (living the backpacker’s life!), we walked around the town (mostly consisted of Inca figures hyped up), then settled on a pizza place for dinner. (note: the price seemed cheap, but they hid the tax fee, sigh) Since there wasn’t much to do, we went to bed super early so we could get up at 4am. Which…..we miraculously did.

There were buses picking up (lazy ) people from their hotels to Machu Picchu. We chose to walk all the way to the top. The walk to the entrance itself was mystical. The mountains loomed over us, tall and menacing in the dark. The river seemed to pound against the rocks, which were in weird shapes and sizes. Since we didn’t have a flashlight (mistake), we tip-toed carefully against the bridge and trail, slightly scared but ridiculously excited. Then…..we reached the entrance point. Long story short: there was a problem with my ticket. I ran back to the village, where thankfully, they had tickets left for that day. I paid, ran back, and THEN we started our trek uphill to Machu Picchu at last.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t THAT out of breath during the climb. Each step we took, we were rewarded with a view that grew more and more gorgeous and unearthly. To put it crudely, it’s incredible how the Incas even found the mountains, had the adrenaline to climb up, decide on a location, then BUILD AN ENTIRE CITY up there. It was also impossible to take a bad picture.

Once at the top, it was ridiculously hard to register that we were there. The image in front of me was unreal. Everything was majestic and built to perfection. The weather was perfect, too. Maybe a little too perfect, since we both got sunburned. -_- There were people from all over the world, with tours being given in numerous languages. There were alpacas up there, beautiful foliage, and although I was scared for my life, I couldn’t help but look down every few seconds; to understand the fact that I actually walked all the way up to the site and survived (in fact, as we were walking down, there were these two girls who were excitedly shouting, “We conquered the lost city!” a little too much, haha). Interesting fact: you’re not allowed to take jumping pictures on Machu Picchu. The guard yelled at me.  Then, before we knew it, the day was nearing 5pm, and the park was about to close. The trek downhill took 2 hours. We were exhausted, but unbelievably happy.

After Machu Picchu, we took a bus to Puno, to go see Lago Titicaca. Fun fact about the lake: if you turn a map of the lake upside down, you can see a puma hunting a rabbit. The puma is Peru, and the rabbit is Bolivia. Titi means great (I think), and caca means rock, although we’re more familiar with the slang meaning. Obviously the latter refers to Bolivia. Oh, international rivalries. And due to the black market, no one is permitted to travel to Peru or Bolivia via the lake.

When we got to Puno, we were dropped off at 4am (we arrived much earlier than they said we would!) at a very silent terminal. We were pretty aloof, so we followed a woman who was trying to sell us a tour at her agency. When it seemed like we were about to walk off (we were just really, really tired), she lowered  the price, so that we ended up paying $20 for a day’s tour. Unintentional bartering strategy, yay!

We boarded a boat that took us to the Floating Islands. The islands are constructed from a reed that grows at the bottom of the lake. Each island is the home of a family, and it felt slightly awkward intruding upon their private space, yet….it was clear tourism was their main source of revenue. They showed us how they live, and took us for a ride on their reed boat.

Then we went to Taquila Island, which was quaint and beautiful. We were served lunch and given time to walk around the island, and the island gave off a Mediterranean vibe, with the clear and amazingly blue water. The lake was stunning, and the tranquility made everything enjoyable. I had no idea how big and beautiful the lake was. Next time I’m in the area, I’d like to cross over to Bolivia…..algun dia!

Overall I am extremely happy that I had the chance to go to Peru. It is a country that is not only home to Machu Picchu, but other amazing sites that I unfortunately did not have the time to explore. I’m going to miss the majestic mountains, the friendliness of the people (everyone addresses you as ‘amigo’ or ‘amiga’) and the bartering (best strategy is to feign interest, look disinterested, and then walk away, haha)! I hope I can return again.

captions: Plaza de Armas/Cuzco/Cuzco with Cristo Blanco in the background/Cuzco 1-2/streets/delicious chicha/San Pedro market/successful bartering!/rickshaw/Ollantaytambo 1-2/train/view from train/soccer field/center/Aguas Calientes/more markets/bridge entrance/Machu Picchu/view from climb up 1-2/incredible view 1-4/friendly alpaca!/amazing views (city in the shape of a condor) 1-8)

What’s the one sure way to put on a good show? Plan it half an hour in advance.

We were on our way to an orphanage/shelter in the outskirts of Cusco. Our bus was full of basic goods and gifts for the girls and young women who live there, and the plan was to gift them the gifts, play tag and volleyball for a few hours, and see a small performance they had organized for us. Then Lali, our program director, decided we should put on a performance, too. We being everyone in the program. No exceptions.

What then unfolded was a manifestation of youthful genius. We proposed a series of ideas, each more absurd than the last, until we found the one. We were to put on our own “unique interpretation of the Afro-Peruvian Alcatraz,” in which one dancer tries to light the other’s skirt on fire.

I didn’t have a skirt, and if I had I don’t think I would’ve gone so far as to put it on. A tail made of toilet paper, tied to my belt, provided the flammable material. We didn’t have a candle, either, so we settled for a lighter. And Oscar doesn’t even dance Afro. Add to that that our cajón was a cardboard box, and what results is the following video that defies words.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9XffjNRK4A

Post-Script: For future IFSA students, I highly recommend taking Afro-Peruvian dance at La Católica. It is an hour and a half, once weekly, of letting loose and having fun. You may even learn how to move your hips.

P.P.S.: This is what the real Alcatraz looks like. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyXBcAMcaF8&feature=related

There was no mistaking her words as I walked into her open arms: “Bienvenidos, nieto.” Welcome, grandson.

All of my grandparents passed away between two and a half and forty-five years ago. But yesterday, I was not only a grandson but also a child once again. Claudia’s grandparents (in English they are her grandparents, in Spanish mis abuelos, my grandparents) invited me to their apartment, to a sleepover, and I accepted. And my greeting was no less genuine than if their own blood had walked through the door.

Abuelita set before me a heaping plate of vegetables – eggplant, carrots, string beans and potatoes cooked in a tomato sauce, a dish reminiscent of Indian cooking. And there were plantains, two of them, with a bowl of white cheese to sprinkle on top. Playing the role of grandson who doesn’t want to hurt his grandmother’s feelings by not eating everything she puts in front of him, I ate everything she put in front of me. Which, by the end of the next day, amounted to three toasted white cheese-mayonnaise-tomato-ketchup sandwiches, a plate of rice and fish, oatmeal, an apple, three plantains, loads of white cheese, homemade cake, two cups of coffee, a constantly-refilled glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and Toddy, the Venezuelan equivalent of Ovaltine. What’s the only thing that says, “You’re my grandson,” more than a glass of Ovaltine? Not being allowed to get off of the couch as your grandmother brings you a glass of Ovaltine.

And that was how the day went. Of course, not everything was so child-grandparent oriented. We talked about the political persecution of their children and relatives, several of whom were a part of the over 20,000 workers fired and blacklisted by the government after the national oil company went on strike in 2002. We talked about their wishes for their grandchildren to leave the country and about the months that have passed without coffee, milk, plantains, etc. In short, we talked politics. They were atypical conversations for our relationship, but typical given the political situation in Venezuela.

More broadly, in Latin America there is an openness, a conscious permitting of the blurring of (non-political) lines, that I appreciate. Family is of the utmost importance, and a bigger family, it seems, is better. I have gained grandparents, aunts and uncles, in-laws, etc. The entrance exam is simple: if our granddaughter/daughter/niece loves you, and if you love her, and if you treat each other well, then…ok!Still, back in the U.S., they will be my girlfriend’s grandparents, my girlfriend’s mom, her dad. And my sisters-in-law back home will still be SIL’s, not sis’s.

What about Peru? Thanks to IFSA, my host family has already contacted me. “We already have experience in receiving students into our home,” Bubby, my host-mother told me in her first e-mail, “although more than students, we treat them like they were our own children.”

How is it possible that I leave tomorrow morning?  It feels like these last four months have flown by and I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave yet.  Lima just started to really feel like home, plus spring is here and I have to go back to blizzard conditions in Chicago… but I’ll be happy to get home to my friends and family for the holidays.

I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to take a adequate video of a combi ride, something that would capture what it’s like to travel on Lima’s makeshift public transportation system.  I have to say, there is nothing like a combi ride.  The combis developed out of necessity.  In the last few decades, Lima’s population has grown exponentially with many people from the sierra migrating to the coast and the outskirts of Lima.  These people needed a way to get from their homes to the more established areas of Lima and the government didn’t step in.  So, private enterprises took on the challenge.

The streets of Lima are covered in combis of 3 sizes: bus, micro and combi (these are the size of a full-size van).  There are 2 important people on a combi, the cobrador and the driver.  The cobrador takes your pasaje or fare.  He also yells out the door to let you know the combi’s route and lets the driver know when people want to get on and off.  There is no website where you can find the different routes of the combis, so the only way to find out is to ask a Peruvian.  The drivers tend to be pretty crazy, as it is in their best interest to pick up all the passengers before any of the other drivers can.  This leads to many terrifying combi races.  It also leads to absolutely packed combis.  For example, I ride a to La Católica on a route called the “S” which is comprised of the smallest combis.  Around 6pm, there are probably upwards of 20 people squished into those tiny things half of whom are standing, bent over.

Perhaps the best way to describe a combi ride is to got through the steps.  Plus, if you’re ever in Lima you can use these helpful tips.

1) Find a stop or paradero or just stick out your hand on any busy street and 10 will stop for you.

2) Either read the side of the combi or ask the cobrador to make sure that it goes where you’re going.  Usually if it doesn’t, the cobrador will tell you which one does.

3) Hop on before the driver speeds off.  The cobrador will encourage you and let the driver know to wait by saying “¡Sube sube sube!“  Hold on to something because when they do start moving you will go flying into someone’s lap if you’re not holding on.

4) Sit and enjoy the lovely 80s jams or salsa music that the driver has on full blast, the smell of gasoline and the sob stories of all the vendors who climb on board to sell you hard candies.  Hold on tight to your belongings and be careful not to bang your head on the seat in front of you when the driver stops.  If your standing, you have to keep your balance.  The cobrador will also probably yell “Avanza por favor, al fondo hay sitio.” which means that there is room at the back.  There is never room at the back.

5) The cobrador will come down the aisle clinking his change and asking for pasajes.  You pay him, usually 1 sol and he gives you a ticket that lets him know you paid and gets you your money back in case the combi crashes.

6) When you want to get off, you let the cobrador know by saying “¡(Insert your stop here) baja!”  For example, “¡Paradero baja!” or “¡Esquina baja!“  The cobrador repeats this to the driver and you must squish through the people to get to the door in time for your stop.  The cobrador will let the driver know to stay put by shouting “¡Baja baja baja!” but you should hop off quickly because they will start moving…

It’s a crazy way to get around but it’s cheap and convenient.  In some ways, I will miss my crazy combi rides.  I remember being scared to get on them in August, but now I find them easy and feel comfortable getting around by combi.

My bags are packed and goodbyes are said and I’m feeling so many different things at once.  I hope one day I can come back to Lima and to my wonderful host family.  It has truly been a once in a lifetime experience.

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I got home Sunday from a 3 night stay in Puno.  A friend from IFSA– Jessa– and I made the journey to check out “Puno Week” and the famous Lake Titicaca, the highest navigable lake in the world.

We arrived in Puno on Thursday intending to spend the day resting and acclimating to the altitude.  Puno sits at 3827 meters (12628 feet) above sea level and coming straight from Lima this is a huge adjustment, so we decided to take it easy.  I learned this weekend that high altitudes aren’t for me…. Friday we woke up hoping to see the Puno Day Parade which all the guidebooks told us was November 5th.  We asked at the front desk and it turned out the big parade had taken place the day before.  So, we ventured out to explore Puno and find the handicraft market to do some souvenir shopping.  After lots of wandering and unclear directions, we gave up on finding the market and headed back to the plaza de armas.  On our walk, we kept seeing kids all dressed up in what appeared to be different traditional outfits.  We decided to head in the direction of all these dressed up kids to see if we could find some sort of celebration going on.  Our spying led us to a school courtyard.  On the wall was a huge sign with what looked like a schedule and different locations.  We couldn’t figure out what the schedule was for and we were tired, so we headed back to the hotel hoping we would happen upon something later in the day.  After some rest, we started to hear the echo of drums from our hotel room.  We hurried out and found a parade with all the school children of Puno dressed up and performing various folkloric dances.  They were absolutely adorable and we were happy we got to see at least a small celebration for Puno Week.  Later that night when we headed out for dinner, the parade was still going.  By that time, it was the older kids dancing and they were much more skilled, but obviously less adorable.  I have to say, it was the longest parade I have ever seen.  It lasted hours and hours from noon until maybe 6 or 7 at night!

Saturday was our tour to the lake.  We woke up bright and early and went down to the docks where we took a boat to our first stop, the floating islands of Uros.  These island are incredible to say the least.  The people who live there construct these floating islands from the reeds that are native to Lake Titicaca (see the video for our tour guide’s explanation).  They also use these reeds as building material for their houses, kitchens, boats and handicrafts and as a medicine.  The people on the island were incredibly friendly, but it was all very touristy.  They invited us into their houses and dressed us up in typical clothing so that we could take pictures of ourselves all dressed up.  They also had stands at which they sold their beautiful artwork.  When our visit was over, a group of women sang us goodbye in quechua, aymara, spanish and english finishing with “Row your boat.”  From the floating islands of Uros we got back on the boat and made our way to the island Taquile.  The inhabitants of this island speak quechua as opposed to aymara which is spoken on the islands of Uros.  There, the women have the task of spinning the yarn and the men knit.  Walking around we saw many women spinning yarn and men knitting as they walked.  I didn’t get to enjoy the island very much as I spent most of the visit trying to climb up to the main plaza and restaurant where we’d be eating lunch.  The altitude had really gotten to me and I have to stop numerous times to rest on the way up.  I didn’t want a repeat of Huaraz (aka fainting).  Once we made it to lunch, we ate and our tour guide explained to us the significance of the different hats and shawls we saw the men and women wearing.  On Taquile, men wear beautifully woven wear hats and belts which signify their marital status.  Women wear black shawls with colorful pom poms decorating the corners; their size indicates her marital status.  We also saw the hat which denotes political leaders.  The intricacy of these hats and belts was impressive and beautiful.  From there, we made the long journey back to Puno.

Despite the altitude sickness, Puno and Lake Titicaca were absolutely beautiful.  The weather was lovely, the sun was shining every day and the nights weren’t nearly as cold as everyone in Lima warned.  Clearly Limeñans have never lived though winters in Chicago or Maine… It is incredible to me how many beautiful and interesting things there are to see in Peru alone and I won’t even get to see them all.  I won’t make it to the Colca Canyon in Arequipa, a canyon bigger than our Grand Canyon where condors fly overhead.  Nor will I make it to the Amazon rain forest to see another of Peru’s distinct cultures… Guess I’ll have to come back!  Next weekend I’m heading north towards the border with Ecuador to a beach town called Máncora to get some R&R before the stress of finals and leaving Peru sets in.  I have just over a month left here in Peru and I can’t get over how quickly the time has gone! I have yet to talk about FOOD and the notorious combis… For now, I’m just hoping to make it through the end of the semester smoothly.

Un beso… ¡chau!

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I just returned to Lima from an overnight trip with my history professor, some students from our class and members of the DARS (Direccion Academica de Responsabilidad Social) at La Católica.  We traveled to El Carmen, a district of Ica known for its rich Afro-Peruvian culture.  This area was also hard hit by an earthquake in 2007. DARS already has a community development project in a little town called La Garita also located in El Carmen.  They offer workshops for the women and children of this village and also helped to reconstruct about 40 houses destroyed by the earthquake.  Now, the DARS in looking to start a project in the city of Chincha and my history professor was asked to write a report about the area’s history.  So, us students went along to help conduct some interviews and to visit the projects La Católica has there.

We first arrived in the city of Chincha and headed to a restaurant for breakfast.  There, we interviewed the owner of the restaurant, the granddaughter of Italian immigrants (who is married to a man that is half Japanese…).  She talked to us about the history of Chincha, the immigration and the subsequent fusion of cultures.  Her food, for example, is a fusion of traditional Italian with Peruvian influences.

Then, we got on a combi headed for El Carmen.  El Carmen is the district’s capital and home to many Afro-Peruvians.  We stayed with a family of musicians and dancers.  Their walls were covered with photographs of women in bright dresses dancing and groups playing cajon.  The general feeling in this town was incredibly distinct from that in Lima.  You got the sense that everyone knew each other.  People called to each other in the streets and everyone’s door was always open– no need to knock.  People on the street always greeted you with “Buenos días” or “Buenas tardes” and children ran up and down the block dancing and playing soccer in the relatively empty streets.  Walking around, it was easy to see this was a poor area and many of the houses still showed signs of the devastation caused by the earthquake.  We ate lunch at one of the only restaurants in town while interviewing a local.  Lunch was a dish typical of the area called sopa seca con carapulcra which was pretty tasty.  I couldn’t understand much of what the man said –he spoke very fast and had a distinct accent– but he told us a bit about El Carmen’s history and what happened after the earthquake hit.  He works with a number of different NGOs and told us about their vital role in the reconstruction of the town.  That night, we all sat around and talked and I got to know some of my Peruvian classmates (finally!).  They said if they hadn’t known I was a gringa, they would’ve pegged me as maybe not Peruvian, but definitely Latina.  Woohoo!  What a compliment.

The next day we headed out of El Carmen to La Garita where DARS has some ongoing projects.  (But not before seeing some zapateo from some of the kids in the plaza.)  The houses in La Garita are even more simple than those in El Carmen.  Many have roofs made of woven cane or sheets of tarp.  This community lives mainly off of agriculture and they find work when during the different seasons, depending on what crop is ready to pick.  We got to see the school, which is in the final stages of its reconstruction and a few of us participated in the workshop with the kids.  Many of them were very friendly and outgoing, coming up to us and initiating conversations.  Later on in the day, some members of the DARS work with the mothers, many of whom are still having emotional/psychological problems as a result of the earthquake.  After eating a lunch of arroz con pollo in one of the homes, we got on a combi back to Chincha and from there caught a bus back to Lima.

It is moments like this weekend that I am so glad I chose to come to Peru.  I got to see a very distinct part of Peruvian culture; I got to meet people and see places I would have never seen as a tourist.  I also FINALLY got to know some Peruvians my age outside of the classroom.  Overall, it was a fun experience.

Although I am missing Halloween in the US, today is also El Día de la Cancion Criolla, a celebration of Peruvian music.  Hopefully I will get to celebrate by heading to a peña to hear some live music.  This coming Thursday I head to Puno for “Puno Week” and a tour of Lake Titikaka.  I am reeeeeally excited about it.  The following weekend I return to Chincha with IFSA for some sun and some lessons on the cajon and zapateo.  Then comes Thanksgiving dinner, our sendoff dinner, finals and then– Chau Perú! I’ve got about a month and a half left and with all this traveling, I’m sure it will go by quickly.  It’s hard to believe my time here is almost up!

Happy Halloween to all my gringitos!  Un beso– chau!

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It is October in Lima, which means a little more sunshine, Halloween (I know, I was surprised too…) and El Señor de los Milagros.  El Señor de los Milagros, also known as Cristo Moreno or Señor de los Temblores among other names, is a mural painted by a black slave in the 1600s.  The story says that there was a huge earthquake during this era in which much of the city was destroyed, yet this mural was miraculously left standing.  In Peru, October is el mes morado.  During this month, devotees visit the church in which the painting stands.  Many stand in line in order to touch the float which is paraded through the streets in various processions at the end of the month.  These processions draw enormous crowds.  The faithful bring pictures of loved ones, rosaries or other objects to touch to the float in the hopes that their prayers are answered or miracles realized.  Others bring flowers or donate money as an offering to el señor.

I went to visit with my host mom and her friend and it was certainly an interesting experience.  We took a combi to the hustle and bustle of the center of Lima.  We got off and as you looked around there were blocks and blocks of little stores and vendors selling all kinds of little trinkets: rosaries, candles, pins, beads… everything purple.  There were also stretches of storefronts selling turrones de Doña Pepa which is a dessert typical of el mes morado.

I’m not a big fan, but people here love it.  It’s prepared with a honey made from stewed fruits and was traditionally an afro-Peruvian dish.

The church was super crowded and at first I felt a bit out of place.  I’m not Catholic, but there is a certain feeling in the air.  My host mom, who is catholic, told me she asked for el señor to bless my family and loved ones and keep them safe.  As I stood taking in the mural and all the people assembled, I decided to use the time to think of all the things, people, and experiences in my life I am grateful for.  It seemed appropriate.  As we left, we saw one women approaching the altar on her knees.  My host mom told me there are some devotees who follow the float along its entire route on their knees.  This image clearly demonstrates the immense devotion many Peruvians have to el Señor de los Milagros and his importance to Catholics in Peru.  After leaving the church, we stumbled upon a sort of altar behind the church.  There, people purchased candles that they then burned for a particular loved one or prayer.

On a side note, I apologize for the crazy filming.  I was trying to be discreet on the streets, because my host mom kept telling me to put away my camera before someone snatched it.  You can hear her warning me in the video   I hope to be able to attend one of the parades at the end of this month, although my host mom has warned me against it.  Maybe we’ll just watch it on TV instead.

There is also a new Peruvain film called Octubre which takes place against the backdrop of el mes morado in Lima.  A group of us gringos went to see it and enjoyed it, so I recommend it.  It just won an award at Cannes.

In other news, I am officially half way through my time here in Peru!  In many ways, I can’t believe how fast the time has gone.  On the other hand, I feel like I have been here for a long time and have gotten into a steady routine.  I feel more comfortable and can feel my Spanish improving daily.  I hope to travel to Puno in the first week of November to see Lake Titicaca (cue the giggles) and to see a little of “Puno Week.”  Tomorrow we had to Caral for the day with IFSA.  Caral is the oldest civilization in the Americas and the 3rd oldest in the world: Mesopotamia, Egypt, Caral.  Pretty bacán huh?

!Chau– un beso!

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