Monday, September 8, 2008
a special entry for our dear friend guinea pig...
Fried Cuy (aka guinea pig). Yes, I did eat this...
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Festival of Santa Rosa, Patron St of nurses
Ok, the first weekend I was in Cajamarca I was told that we would be celebrating Nurse´s day, or the day of Santa Rosa, de Lima, the patron saint of nuses. I figured, ok, that´s probably like any of our many minor holidays that nobody really does anything for--Arbor Day or Columbus Day for examples. Oh, how I underestimated the ability of the Peruvians to party.
Cumbemayo
I looked it up--there are 3,000 festivals in Peru annually--that means there is partying being had in several places around the country every single day. And Peruvians don´t mess around, folks. Their fireworks, though quite terrifying, put all American efforts to shame....sure I was afraid that at any moment, the vast structures of bamboo and metal, which they attached fireworks to and set to flame mere feet from observers, would explode and consume the hundreds of bystanders who came out for the show, but it was spectacular! And at the same time that these structures were setting off domino-effects of fireworks as well as shooting fireworks up in the sky, several instrumental bands were playing, and people were dancing in the streets. It was a fabulous feast for the eyes. I stood close to one of the many family members who had come out for the evening and just let myself be mesmerized by all the happenings. Every so often, my trance would be interrupted by someone shoving a shot of pisco or a small, communal glass of beer at me.
After the fireworks ended, we stopped into a little food stall for some piping hot, delicious tamales. Then someone ran for a bottle of Licor Anisado (hard liqour made from Anis). The bottle and a small glass was passed around the circle, each person pouring a shot for the next until the bottle was gone. Never have I seen a bottle of liqour go so fast...and I again, I state, I´m from a Catholic family, that likes to have fun! Each time the bottle came to me, I tried to explain, look I´m a little Gringa, and I don´t have the tolerance of a Peruvian...but their desire to win the game of get the white girl drunk prevailed. We took to the streets after the bottle was gone to dance. The fabulous part about the family unit, is that I always feel safe. They are like personal body guards, always on the lookout for eachother.
In the US, it´s always the kids who stay out and party late, right? Well here, the first to retire to the car to pass out were the teen-agers, followed by me and the aunts, and finally finally finally, the uncles and my ¨dad¨stumbled to the car around 3:30am. I have to admit, I was a little worried about how much the drivers had drunk as well as the fact that we were in the mountains, but who was I to protest? These people are pros...so I closed my eyes and trusted, and sure enough we got home with no problems whatsoever.
Now, the party didn´t stop with one night...oh no. I woke up at 8:30 the next day for a parade of grand scale, followed by a lunch with the nurses and doctors at the clinic. The lunch was supposed to be at 2, but since nothing runs on time here, ever, we didn´t eat until almost 4...which left a lot of time for various cheers to nurses, and of course everyone´s favorite game--make Rachel, or as I´m called here: Raquelita, drink! It helps somewhat that I´m allergic to yeast and so cannot drink beer...even still they got me to take a few sips, and I could not get out of drinking 4 pisco sours...oh geeze. Nothing like being tipsy in the afternoon with a bunch of people who can´t understand you when you´re sober! Food was of course followed by dance: cumbia and salsa. The ``lunch`` went until about 6:10, when we realized, oh no! We´re missing the prayer service for Santa Rosa...so the bunch stumbled to the chuch, which by the way is no problem at all to be a little tipsy at chuch on a holiday, in fact, it might be the only way to go. Then around 7, I sleepily went home, while the rest stayed out...I´m telling you, we Americans pale in comparison to Peruvians in our ability to party. They work very hard and they play very hard.
LUNCH!
Other things I´ve been up to lately: Hiked to some waterfalls in the country; visited the baños del Inca for a soak in a warm sulfery hot spring that the Incan royalty used to bathe in; hiked through a rock forest called Cumbe Mayo that features pre-Incan water canals cut from stone; and of course acquired myself another Peruvian ``boyfriend.``
Tonight, there´s another fiesta for something or other...
CumbemayoMonday, September 1, 2008
Cajamarca continued
Can I please start this post by saying that the internet place is blasting 50cent, and I cannot help but giggle about the skinny Peruvian boy unknowingly blasting music about ganstas and hos. Another note: I´ve posted a lot in the past week or so, so you might want to scroll through and make sure you´re up to date ;)
Also, I wanted to note that I do read all the comments even though--disculpe me--I didn´t respond to them earlier. I´d love it if this could be a place for discussion should people choose (I´m looking at you Anne White´s spanish class ;-) ), and I know Markie volunteered to post an updated map of where I am in the comments section ...eventually.
Where do I begin? I´m in love with this old city. It´s been conquered, mined (for gold), used as a post for revolutionaries like Simon Bolivar against the Spanish, a home to the Incas with preserved hot spring stone baths, stone "chairs," and trails leading all the way to Cuzco, as well it was a battle ground during the war with Chile. Now it`s known for its cows who come when called by name, as well as its fabulous cheese and manjar blanco. Like all the towns, it has a plaza de armas, which is sort of the town center. The streets are windy, hilly, and made out of stone with lots of stairs, and the town is graced with several stunning Baroque churches.
My favorite part of the town is the mercado (the market) where you can buy literally anything you desire, from shoe insoles made out of local leather, to underware that says ¨stripper,¨to a live lizard, wheels of cheese, baskets of bread, school supplies, herbal medicine, fresh squeezed juice, or the regional favorite--fried guinea pig. One of the best things is that you can buy any number of things in any amount, for example I bought 6 clothes pins the other day. And the food in the streets is absolutely phenomenal. Not only is there a crazy variety due to Peru´s biological and cultural diversity, but it´s a fascinating experience every time. It´s wonderful to me that you can be high up in the mountains, yet be drinking a fairly local papaya, pineapple, and banana smoothie, because the jungle is next door. Similarly, they´ve got fresh seafood everywhere.
The challenge for me here with food (other than comsuming too much of it), is definitely the meat...In my pictures, which I am happy to say I finally have uploaded (see link below), there is a picture of a plate of food I was served...it is literally the most meat I have ever seen on one plate in my entire life...and I come from a midwestern Catholic family who loves their meat. You have to check it out. The other problem is the vast amout of carbs they serve in one meal. The big meal is at lunch around 2pm, and after you´ve been starving after your measly breakfast of crackers and coffee six hours ago, you wolf down the pile of rice and potatoes (present at every meal, and if you´re lucky another starchy thing like crackers, platanos, or yucca). Then you pass out, because it´s all your body can do to digest and overcome the inevitable blood sugar crash following. The big meal also consists of two courses, the entrada, which is usually soup, and then the main course of some kind of meat and the aforementioned mountain of starch, and is often accompanied by fresh juice. Then your last meal of the day is around 9pm, which again does not sit well for me...but I must say, it´s incredible how adaptable and intelligent the human body is.
Additionally, I find myself hanging around the food stalls, which is probably my 2nd favorite task, because it´s just too fun. People are always surprised by my presence and ask me all sorts of questions. It´s a fabulous experience standing around in the street, sharing your drink or snack with the other people taking a break in their day, and watching the bustling around you. My favorite treat is definitely the warm drinks--either of Quinoa (a grain), maca (a jungle herb), or a special ¨emolient¨ made of aloe, alfalfa, honey, linseed, limon, bitters, and potentially other things. Some of the things I tend to grab to eat are cachanga--fried dough stuffed with cheese; any array of pastries filled with carmely manjar blanco; these little speckly eggs that the vendor peels, sprinkles with salt and puts in a plastic bag with a tooth pick; and chancha--Peruvian popcorn, which is kind of like corn-nuts. It´s no wonder there´s a verb in Spanish that literally means to get fat or fatten up: engordar.
Drinking an emolient
Special note for when you´re out and about: bring toilet paper, because nowhere has it, and be prepared to squat...and throw your TP in the trash. None of this is new to me, living in Bali for a summer (as well as other places...in fact, I feel like outside the US, it´s pretty common that the plumbing can´t handle TP). Because of the tp in the trash, the bathrooms have an unmistakable smell of yuck, but at least most of the toilets flush via handle and you don´t have to pour a bucket of water in the bowl!
On to family time! Family is very important here. Every Sunday the family goes out to eat together, sometimes just the immediate family, sometimes with a mixing of siblings, brother or sister-in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins etc. It´s amazing to me too that when they go out at night, it´s always with family. We went to a festival last weekend, which will be it´s own blog entry eventually, and it was with all various family members. I was amazed there were no friends in the group, and especially that the 15 year old didn´t go with her friends or bring any along. That doesn´t really happen in the US. Sure we get together with our families to celebrate holidays and other things, but for the most part we go out with our own friends. Also on a semi-related note, you always always always greet people here: one kiss on the right cheek between girls and girls and guys, and handshakes between men. The handshake has sort of died out in the US, unless you are meeting someone for the first time, and even then, especially with the younger crowd, it´s often not used anymore. I have to say I enjoy the intimate greetings, but I still haven´t figured out whether I´m suppossed to kiss my ¨dad¨on the mouth or not...it kind of seems like that´s what is done in this particular family, but it´s hard to tell, haha, so every single time we greet each other, it´s a tad awkward. Oh well.
Well here they are, my photos, as well as another link for Rachel Sandler´s photos who was with me in Iquitos: and if you have trouble viewing them, email me, and I will give you my password if you promise not to order a bunch of pictures :)http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=238727511/a=43035390_43035390/t_=43035390
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=758301220135526518/l=418895881/g=14174425/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
Also, here´s a fabulous video of Patch Adams, in the airport coming back from Iquitos (in english!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kRywcN_4wM&feature=related
Also, I wanted to note that I do read all the comments even though--disculpe me--I didn´t respond to them earlier. I´d love it if this could be a place for discussion should people choose (I´m looking at you Anne White´s spanish class ;-) ), and I know Markie volunteered to post an updated map of where I am in the comments section ...eventually.
Where do I begin? I´m in love with this old city. It´s been conquered, mined (for gold), used as a post for revolutionaries like Simon Bolivar against the Spanish, a home to the Incas with preserved hot spring stone baths, stone "chairs," and trails leading all the way to Cuzco, as well it was a battle ground during the war with Chile. Now it`s known for its cows who come when called by name, as well as its fabulous cheese and manjar blanco. Like all the towns, it has a plaza de armas, which is sort of the town center. The streets are windy, hilly, and made out of stone with lots of stairs, and the town is graced with several stunning Baroque churches.
My favorite part of the town is the mercado (the market) where you can buy literally anything you desire, from shoe insoles made out of local leather, to underware that says ¨stripper,¨to a live lizard, wheels of cheese, baskets of bread, school supplies, herbal medicine, fresh squeezed juice, or the regional favorite--fried guinea pig. One of the best things is that you can buy any number of things in any amount, for example I bought 6 clothes pins the other day. And the food in the streets is absolutely phenomenal. Not only is there a crazy variety due to Peru´s biological and cultural diversity, but it´s a fascinating experience every time. It´s wonderful to me that you can be high up in the mountains, yet be drinking a fairly local papaya, pineapple, and banana smoothie, because the jungle is next door. Similarly, they´ve got fresh seafood everywhere.
The challenge for me here with food (other than comsuming too much of it), is definitely the meat...In my pictures, which I am happy to say I finally have uploaded (see link below), there is a picture of a plate of food I was served...it is literally the most meat I have ever seen on one plate in my entire life...and I come from a midwestern Catholic family who loves their meat. You have to check it out. The other problem is the vast amout of carbs they serve in one meal. The big meal is at lunch around 2pm, and after you´ve been starving after your measly breakfast of crackers and coffee six hours ago, you wolf down the pile of rice and potatoes (present at every meal, and if you´re lucky another starchy thing like crackers, platanos, or yucca). Then you pass out, because it´s all your body can do to digest and overcome the inevitable blood sugar crash following. The big meal also consists of two courses, the entrada, which is usually soup, and then the main course of some kind of meat and the aforementioned mountain of starch, and is often accompanied by fresh juice. Then your last meal of the day is around 9pm, which again does not sit well for me...but I must say, it´s incredible how adaptable and intelligent the human body is.
Additionally, I find myself hanging around the food stalls, which is probably my 2nd favorite task, because it´s just too fun. People are always surprised by my presence and ask me all sorts of questions. It´s a fabulous experience standing around in the street, sharing your drink or snack with the other people taking a break in their day, and watching the bustling around you. My favorite treat is definitely the warm drinks--either of Quinoa (a grain), maca (a jungle herb), or a special ¨emolient¨ made of aloe, alfalfa, honey, linseed, limon, bitters, and potentially other things. Some of the things I tend to grab to eat are cachanga--fried dough stuffed with cheese; any array of pastries filled with carmely manjar blanco; these little speckly eggs that the vendor peels, sprinkles with salt and puts in a plastic bag with a tooth pick; and chancha--Peruvian popcorn, which is kind of like corn-nuts. It´s no wonder there´s a verb in Spanish that literally means to get fat or fatten up: engordar.
Drinking an emolientSpecial note for when you´re out and about: bring toilet paper, because nowhere has it, and be prepared to squat...and throw your TP in the trash. None of this is new to me, living in Bali for a summer (as well as other places...in fact, I feel like outside the US, it´s pretty common that the plumbing can´t handle TP). Because of the tp in the trash, the bathrooms have an unmistakable smell of yuck, but at least most of the toilets flush via handle and you don´t have to pour a bucket of water in the bowl!
On to family time! Family is very important here. Every Sunday the family goes out to eat together, sometimes just the immediate family, sometimes with a mixing of siblings, brother or sister-in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins etc. It´s amazing to me too that when they go out at night, it´s always with family. We went to a festival last weekend, which will be it´s own blog entry eventually, and it was with all various family members. I was amazed there were no friends in the group, and especially that the 15 year old didn´t go with her friends or bring any along. That doesn´t really happen in the US. Sure we get together with our families to celebrate holidays and other things, but for the most part we go out with our own friends. Also on a semi-related note, you always always always greet people here: one kiss on the right cheek between girls and girls and guys, and handshakes between men. The handshake has sort of died out in the US, unless you are meeting someone for the first time, and even then, especially with the younger crowd, it´s often not used anymore. I have to say I enjoy the intimate greetings, but I still haven´t figured out whether I´m suppossed to kiss my ¨dad¨on the mouth or not...it kind of seems like that´s what is done in this particular family, but it´s hard to tell, haha, so every single time we greet each other, it´s a tad awkward. Oh well.
Well here they are, my photos, as well as another link for Rachel Sandler´s photos who was with me in Iquitos: and if you have trouble viewing them, email me, and I will give you my password if you promise not to order a bunch of pictures :)http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=238727511/a=43035390_43035390/t_=43035390
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=758301220135526518/l=418895881/g=14174425/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
Also, here´s a fabulous video of Patch Adams, in the airport coming back from Iquitos (in english!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1kRywcN_4wM&feature=related
besos y mas besos, Rachel
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Cajamarca
Mountains. Cheese. Friendly people. An actual home for a few weeks. What more could a girl ask for?
I´m staying with a fabulous family, the father of which is an obstetriz, which is not a doctor, not a midwife, but basically a technician...for removing babies. They are trained as obstetricians/surgeons only (as oppossed to in the US where we have two types of baby catchers: physicians whose specialty is OB-GYN and midwives--either nurse practitioners or traditional, who are experts in womens health and the normal process of labor and birth). I´m sad to say that here the system combines the worse of our worlds--it´s highly technical--lots of C-sections and episiotomies and the woman has to stay in bed, yet the doctor is not trained in other aspects of medicine. Basically they are at least 15 years behind the US in this area....So, since baby extraction does not really interest me (for those of you who don´t know, I`m a nurse, and aspiring to be a midwife), I`ve just been hanging out at the clinic. I don´t feel I`m too helpful either, because much of the care and the instruments are very differnt, more or less due to lack of resouces. For example, needles are re-used for IV medicine administration (for the same patient, not between patients), gloves are rarely used, and as oppossed to the US where everything is in separate packages and we have very specific things for specific purposes, here there`s a couple bottles of alcohol a vat of cotton balls, and some tape, and you use those three things for basically everything. None of the fancy tape, gauze, separately packaged alcohol swabs, q-tips, etc. IV fluids are in bottles and if there´s no IV pole, well you just get creative...stack it on some books, say, and forget iv pumps, and hopefully you remembered how to break open glass ampules from nursing school, because that´s what all the medicine is in! It´s a very interesting experience, and like most experiences here, it shows me how much we think we need in our daily lives that we could really get by without.
It really is kind of boring having specialized things for everything in our daily lives, as well as having our own of everything. Though kind of a pain in the butt, I actually enjoy making the trek to the internet cafe to share my computer time in a big room with a bunch of strangers. And there are locutorios everywhere should you need to make a call, so no need for a phone...unless you want to be contacted ever (details, details). I feel like my capacity for creativity and improvisation is severly lacking compared to the people here. And too, I feel like we loose a little bit by being so disconnected from the most simple things in our day...laundry for example. When I learned that I´d be doing all my laundry in a bucket of cold water here, my first reaction was ugghh how tedious, and it was funny realizing that I don´t actually know how to properly wash my clothes in this manner. I´ve done laundry in the sink before, but only misc pieces of clothing, never on a grand scale. I´d feel a little snobby about this if I hadn´t been doing all my own laundry since I was in 7th grade..but of course in a machine. I was delighted however to find that doing laundry, having a connetion to its becoming clean, hanging it out to dry on the rooftop, and collecting it the next day (crunchy, but pleasantly smelling), is actually a pleasure. The first time I collected my laundry and realized, ¨Omg, it´s clean! And I did it!¨ I was actually grateful for the experience. And of course, I can enjoy it because I´m not rushed here. If I was at home, I´d be none too pleased if there was something I wanted to wear, and I had to wash something by hand and then wait for it to dry. We need things now! And indeed, I´ll definitely go back to washing my clothes by machine when I´m home, but I really do appreciate the experience of taking it slow, enjoying the process, and having more of a connection to the things in my daily life. I actually feel a sense of gratitude when I put my clothes on, which is nice :)
Along the same sort of domestic lines, the family here, like many families, has a maid. A whole nother journal entry could be dedicated to this (my discomfort with the concept of someone having a ¨lower status,¨ sleeping on the roof, making my food, cleaning my dishes, carrying things for me when I am perfectly capable... as well as the fact that she couldn´t go to school past 11 years old; but also that this is an opportunity for work for her that she wouldn´t maybe otherwise have had, etc, etc). The maid had the day off on Sunday, and I found myself doing the dishes, because it seemed that the family actually felt quite uncomfortable doing them. I lept at the opportunity to actually be useful, and did the pile of dishes, again feeling gratitude for the sense of connection to my food and my day.
I´m staying with a fabulous family, the father of which is an obstetriz, which is not a doctor, not a midwife, but basically a technician...for removing babies. They are trained as obstetricians/surgeons only (as oppossed to in the US where we have two types of baby catchers: physicians whose specialty is OB-GYN and midwives--either nurse practitioners or traditional, who are experts in womens health and the normal process of labor and birth). I´m sad to say that here the system combines the worse of our worlds--it´s highly technical--lots of C-sections and episiotomies and the woman has to stay in bed, yet the doctor is not trained in other aspects of medicine. Basically they are at least 15 years behind the US in this area....So, since baby extraction does not really interest me (for those of you who don´t know, I`m a nurse, and aspiring to be a midwife), I`ve just been hanging out at the clinic. I don´t feel I`m too helpful either, because much of the care and the instruments are very differnt, more or less due to lack of resouces. For example, needles are re-used for IV medicine administration (for the same patient, not between patients), gloves are rarely used, and as oppossed to the US where everything is in separate packages and we have very specific things for specific purposes, here there`s a couple bottles of alcohol a vat of cotton balls, and some tape, and you use those three things for basically everything. None of the fancy tape, gauze, separately packaged alcohol swabs, q-tips, etc. IV fluids are in bottles and if there´s no IV pole, well you just get creative...stack it on some books, say, and forget iv pumps, and hopefully you remembered how to break open glass ampules from nursing school, because that´s what all the medicine is in! It´s a very interesting experience, and like most experiences here, it shows me how much we think we need in our daily lives that we could really get by without.
It really is kind of boring having specialized things for everything in our daily lives, as well as having our own of everything. Though kind of a pain in the butt, I actually enjoy making the trek to the internet cafe to share my computer time in a big room with a bunch of strangers. And there are locutorios everywhere should you need to make a call, so no need for a phone...unless you want to be contacted ever (details, details). I feel like my capacity for creativity and improvisation is severly lacking compared to the people here. And too, I feel like we loose a little bit by being so disconnected from the most simple things in our day...laundry for example. When I learned that I´d be doing all my laundry in a bucket of cold water here, my first reaction was ugghh how tedious, and it was funny realizing that I don´t actually know how to properly wash my clothes in this manner. I´ve done laundry in the sink before, but only misc pieces of clothing, never on a grand scale. I´d feel a little snobby about this if I hadn´t been doing all my own laundry since I was in 7th grade..but of course in a machine. I was delighted however to find that doing laundry, having a connetion to its becoming clean, hanging it out to dry on the rooftop, and collecting it the next day (crunchy, but pleasantly smelling), is actually a pleasure. The first time I collected my laundry and realized, ¨Omg, it´s clean! And I did it!¨ I was actually grateful for the experience. And of course, I can enjoy it because I´m not rushed here. If I was at home, I´d be none too pleased if there was something I wanted to wear, and I had to wash something by hand and then wait for it to dry. We need things now! And indeed, I´ll definitely go back to washing my clothes by machine when I´m home, but I really do appreciate the experience of taking it slow, enjoying the process, and having more of a connection to the things in my daily life. I actually feel a sense of gratitude when I put my clothes on, which is nice :)
Along the same sort of domestic lines, the family here, like many families, has a maid. A whole nother journal entry could be dedicated to this (my discomfort with the concept of someone having a ¨lower status,¨ sleeping on the roof, making my food, cleaning my dishes, carrying things for me when I am perfectly capable... as well as the fact that she couldn´t go to school past 11 years old; but also that this is an opportunity for work for her that she wouldn´t maybe otherwise have had, etc, etc). The maid had the day off on Sunday, and I found myself doing the dishes, because it seemed that the family actually felt quite uncomfortable doing them. I lept at the opportunity to actually be useful, and did the pile of dishes, again feeling gratitude for the sense of connection to my food and my day.
Other notes: Apparently it´s hard for ¨vertically challenged¨people to get jobs here...which is another thing, to me everyone is short, and I´m barely 5´5´´! For the first time in my life, I am actually quite tall! But apparently there is no sort of law against descrimination, so it is hard for women, short people, and unnattrative people to find work, says one of my friends.
Also, a little more about the house: People here are very protective (which I alluded to earlier when talking about the history), so basically every door locks automatically, so I have to bring my keys with me at all times--hard for me, coming from a family who never locks the door, and who tends to leave the keys in the car. Even while riding in the car here, people always lock the doors.
My room is more or less outside. There are walls, but its on the rooftop and its freezing, so I have a mountain of blankets when I sleep. And the bed...I need to upload a picture, the bed frame is literally made out of boards (that frequently fall down and I sink down to the floor) and cardboard with a thin matress atop it. I feel like I´m camping. I have bruises on my hips from sleeping on my sides, so I´m trying to train myself to sleep on my back. Also the water is turned off after 9. And the hot water heater for the shower is electric...right at the shower head, so every now and then, I get a little (very mild, but always surprising) shock. Also, of course, the water isn´t drinkable, so I either boil water or buy bottles at one of the many little tiendas (shops) in the streets. But I have to say again, that I am so happy to have a room of my own to settle into for awhile. And it´s nice to be awoken each morning to chickens and dogs...well, when I´m in a good mood that is...
More later about the family, the meals and food (holy giant stacks of meat), the town, the bathrooms, herbal medicine, and strength of the people when it comes to comsuming alcohol and staying out late, as well as the glorious festivals of Peru (someone told me there are 2,000 or was it 3,000 per year)
much love, Rachel
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