II have officially passed 1 week in Peru and almost 1 week in training. Last Friday, we had Enrique, our Security Coordinator come in and give us a session on common pickpocket scams in Peru. I learned that kids will often work in tandem, with one creating a distraction while the other one whips your wallet out of your back pocket. With that, I have begun carrying a decoy wallet around in my back pocket with a note inside which basically says "Sucks for you" written in Spanish. My regret is that I will not be able to see the expressions on their face if and when it gets stolen.
Enrique is a cool guy. The running joke currently is when he mispronounced “burglarers” and it came out “boogers” which was fun for everyone. I hate it when boogers steal my wallet. This dude has seen it all. He used to be a commander in the Peruvian Army and spent a good chunk of time marching in the jungle working against the drug dealers near the borders of Brazil and Colombia. I can’t imagine the stories he has. He now gets calls from whiny Peace Corps volunteers about losing their Ipod during a drunken spree. This man has eaten raw monkey, marched in 110 degree heat in malaria-infested territory and killed drug dealers with a spoon…..probably on the same day. But he’s chill. These are good people.
Later on in the week I exchanged some money at a local casino and with these other guys who just hang out on the street changing money for gringos like me. They have vests on and with that security measure, I was sure I could trust them. They sit out on benches waving calculators and at first pass I said “no thanks, I don’t need to buy a calculator” and then Roxana explained that no, they were changing money. The family and I then went to the local market to do some shopping. I bought my first pair of Peruvian jeans, which fit me quite well and saw my first skinned cuy; the elusive consumable guinea pig dumped ceremoniously 10-deep in a bucket and baking in the equatorial sun. The meat markets here are something from a different world. Everything is hanging on big hooks and covered with flies. You know everything was killed that morning and there are slabs of "mystery meat" on big plates. Think about that the next time you just happen to come across a 15 lb plate of liver chops…and from what I know, liver can come from lots of animals. I also saw some anticuchos, which are cooked cow heart served on a stick. It is a delicacy here and I am stoked to try it.
We picked up fruit which I have never heard of. There was black corn and granadilla which, inside its hard shell is a larvae-like substance. If you can get past the texture, it is delicious and constitutes about 1000 percent of your daily vitamin C intake. There are also chirimoya which look like some type of deformed lumpy pear and have a sweet taste and consistency like dense cotton candy. I count every vitamin. A few of us have shifted into the "every calorie counts" mentality because you just expand so much energy here and your body....we will say it "rejects" some of the food sometimes. I just got over my first bout of stomach ailments (for any of you whom might have been betting) and Sunday was my first healthy day in about 3. It will happen again though and there is a feeling of solidarity among everyone because we are all suffering.
It is getting hotter and hotter right now. We are shifting into summer and it caps out at about 75-80 degrees mid day here. With no rain, it is still cold enough at night to wear sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I do sleep really well though and I am stoked that I will have something like 8 months of summer in 2006 to 2007.
On Saturday night, about 30 of us and at least 10 host mothers all filed into the local discotec in Chosica. This was my first real club experience, outside the ecstacy-filled drug lairs I had been in New York. There, people just kinda waved glowsticks and sucked on pacifiers. The South American vibe is different. The gringos got there at about 10, which was way early. By the time we left at 2, the party was just kicking up and my mother told me that the discos generally cap out around 5 or 6. Our short time there was awesome and the music was fantastic. There was a great mix of salsa, meringue and tons of reggae ton. I am a bit deluged with the reggae ton as of right now, because it is all we hear on the combis in the morning. This disco is used to the gringo infusion because new groups of volunteers roll in twice a year. To accommodate us, Braden and I asked that they play some hip hop. So luckily, infused between the sensual salsa dances, we were able to jam along to Outkast, Juvenile, Dr. Dre and a ton of old school 80s songs.
“Good-looking Patrick” (not to be confused with “Smart Patrick”) has made it his mission to marry a Peruvian woman and was the envy of all of us. While the rest of us were hanging out at the bar and staring at the gorgeous Peruvian women without the courage to ask them to dance in broken Spanish, he just sauntered up to them and did his thing. It was unbelievably smooth and he did it all without alcohol. It took us the better part of a few hours to get our BACs to that same level of smoothness.
As the night progressed, more Peruvians headed up to the 2nd floor where all the gringos were. So for those of us who were still dancing (and I was a machine), we found ourselves suddenly deluged with tons of attractive women. I danced with a beautiful Peruvian woman named Claudia for an hour and a half. She is 22 and we are now married. This girl could move. I, on the other hand, only have my weird pseudo-break dancing moves with a bit of SA from 311 and whatever fake raving I know to rely on. It’s not the best mix. While it might be synchronous to the beats of the music, it does not gel well with salsa. So, Claudia took my hand and learned me some salsa. Oh man. It is a very, very sensual dance and I got the hang of it at the end. There is so much hip shaking which I just cannot do, but apparently there are dancing lessons given in my neighborhood and I am determined to become the first gringo salsa champ.
When I woke up the next morning and did the daily gossip routine with Roxanna over our tea-and-bread breakfast, she was perplexed at the fact that I did not get a number. So was I. Apparently it is not that hard and I regret my wimpy reticence. Next weekend there is talk of heading to Lima to hit up a real discotec and we will see what courage I can summon up in meantime.
Until then, I am working on some solo projects. We missed the opportunity on Sunday to round up and vaccinate the stray dogs in Ricardo Palma because we went to Chosica again to watch Diego march in a parade, which was either full or done by the time we got there. Today I have a yoga presentation to give, followed by a mock bad interview tomorrow, a presentation on the Peace Corps approach to work methodology on Thursday, an interview with my Spanish professor on Thursday, and charlas to give in between. We is deluged.
To close, I am going to be in a parade in 2 weeks, riding on top of a float down the main street of Chosica, dressed as a king and presiding over the local Peruvian town and its 15,000 inhabitants, but more to come later.....
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