This is a video of my 4th grade class playing Simon says...except we say "Patty says"
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Video from my English Class
Aren't they cute? I never got them to actually sing it but they sure are proud of this song and beg me each week to let them sing. I don't always feel like I'm getting anywhere with my English class but students certainly have dominated the parts of the body.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Some Quick updates..
I have been busy this past month. I ran a half marathon in Pacasmayo, traveled to Lima to take care of some funky skin disease that's been plaguing me, worked at a girl's leadership camp, and had a week-long training session with the newly arrived volunteers (10 trainees, 2 trainers, and 4 volunteers all came to my site).
Running the half marathon was...interesting. I have never been much of a runner so motivating myself to train for a 13-miler took a lot of discipline. It was difficult to run in site because of all the dogs, the hot sun, and the altitude. Fortunately on race day I didn't die and crossed the finish line still running, albeit slowly but running nevertheless--slow and steady wins the race (I didn't actually win, but completing the 13 miles without walking was a personal victory).
The new trainees are amazingggg. Their sites will be announced next week and I cannot wait to find out who will be placed in Cajamarca. I know they will all make fantastic volunteers.
Back in training I wrote a blog entry about how much I hate Lima. That is no longer the case. It has many charms and is slowly growing on me. I have 5 days of vacation coming up at the end of the month for independence day and I plan to spend them exploring Lima with my friend Kat.
Kat and I celebrating the end of the Marathon
Kids from the preschool dancing for the dia del maestro
My girls at Camp ALMA, the 3 day leadership camp for adolescent girls that we held in Cajamarca
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Birth of Seven
After all the fretting, false alarms, anxiety, fussing, and fawning, it seemed the moment had finally arrived. Though a bit skeptical (I cannot even recount the number of times I was told “it’s definite, today’s the day”), I E.T.ed my internet sesh and went running over to my grandparent’s house to witness the big event—only to be greeted by Grandpa Segundo’s stern gaze and admonishing tone.
“Hide,” he nervously barked, “la vaca doesn´t know you. She´s embarassed.”
Sheepishly I retreated to conceal myself in the bushes around the corner from her nook. Two hours passed, darkness set in, nothing. Taking pity on my obvious discomfort, my host mom finally called me out of hiding to watch our daily telenovela, promising we could check in on Chili during each commercial break. The novela came and went…still nothing. Chili appeared tranquila as can be. Beginning to believe that this was yet another false alarm and perhaps the darn creature wasn’t actually pregnant (despite the fact that her udder had now swollen to the size of a beach ball), I began to extend the intervals passed between vaca checks.
Around 10:30 pm (a half hour since my last check in) Grandma Maria knocked on the door.
“Ya,” she said.
Dashing across the street I expected to encounter cow moans, lots of gore, and excitement. Instead I found a serene mama cow tenderly licking clean her mucus-y newborn.
“Rats!” I thought. “That tricky little bugger had to go and give birth while I wasn’t there. How many more opportunities will I have to witness such an event?!”
Perceiving my disappointment, Grandma Maria did her best to console me.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “in about an hour the placenta will come out. It’s just like watching the real birth.” So, again I went off to hide, again I waited, and again, nothing. Certain Chili was intentionally trying to spite me, I left around 2 am, deciding my warm bed and a good night’s rest were not worth sacrificing for a placenta.
I awoke the next morning ready to befriend the no-longer slimy member of the family. Crossing the street to saludar the new ternera (hembra—yes! More milk will be making its way to the Sanchez family) I was beckoned by Grandma’s excited calls.
“Senorita, Senorita, come here. I want to show you something.” She proudly opened up a shopping bag in her hand to reveal the large, not-so-comely placental sack that she had saved so I wouldn’t feel like I had missed out—how amable of her.
The Sanchez family now has a mischievous calf with a perfect number seven on her forehead (they actually named her “seven” in honor of their friendly English-speaking guest from the States), more dairy products than it is able to consume, and one gringa with yet another Peace Corps anecdote to share.
“Hide,” he nervously barked, “la vaca doesn´t know you. She´s embarassed.”
Sheepishly I retreated to conceal myself in the bushes around the corner from her nook. Two hours passed, darkness set in, nothing. Taking pity on my obvious discomfort, my host mom finally called me out of hiding to watch our daily telenovela, promising we could check in on Chili during each commercial break. The novela came and went…still nothing. Chili appeared tranquila as can be. Beginning to believe that this was yet another false alarm and perhaps the darn creature wasn’t actually pregnant (despite the fact that her udder had now swollen to the size of a beach ball), I began to extend the intervals passed between vaca checks.
Around 10:30 pm (a half hour since my last check in) Grandma Maria knocked on the door.
“Ya,” she said.
Dashing across the street I expected to encounter cow moans, lots of gore, and excitement. Instead I found a serene mama cow tenderly licking clean her mucus-y newborn.
“Rats!” I thought. “That tricky little bugger had to go and give birth while I wasn’t there. How many more opportunities will I have to witness such an event?!”
Perceiving my disappointment, Grandma Maria did her best to console me.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “in about an hour the placenta will come out. It’s just like watching the real birth.” So, again I went off to hide, again I waited, and again, nothing. Certain Chili was intentionally trying to spite me, I left around 2 am, deciding my warm bed and a good night’s rest were not worth sacrificing for a placenta.
I awoke the next morning ready to befriend the no-longer slimy member of the family. Crossing the street to saludar the new ternera (hembra—yes! More milk will be making its way to the Sanchez family) I was beckoned by Grandma’s excited calls.
“Senorita, Senorita, come here. I want to show you something.” She proudly opened up a shopping bag in her hand to reveal the large, not-so-comely placental sack that she had saved so I wouldn’t feel like I had missed out—how amable of her.
The Sanchez family now has a mischievous calf with a perfect number seven on her forehead (they actually named her “seven” in honor of their friendly English-speaking guest from the States), more dairy products than it is able to consume, and one gringa with yet another Peace Corps anecdote to share.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Trials and Rewards
Since school vacation, I’ve managed to keep fairly busy with a number of unsustainable projects. Sustainability is a rather fickle thing. Generally speaking, projects are successful not when a big NGO pours money into a community, but when the community itself comes together and acquires the know-how to make its own progress forward. For this reason, Peace Corps encourages us to work side by side with community partners so that they might continue our projects once service ends. Community partners can be anyone enthusiastic, with an interest or passion for improving their community. They are typically persons already involved in the community. Ideally, we are not to go solo on projects and should think of ourselves more as a support or technical resource for our partners….easier said than done…
In La Grama there is no major NGO presence, leaving very few options for community partners. As a youth development volunteer, my principle partners work in the schools and health post. Collaboration has not proven easy. The health post staff is made up of a doctor, nurse, obstetric nurse and 2 techs. They serve the entire district, meaning that they rarely have time for extra projects. What’s more, they are unreliable. The health post is rarely opened at the hour it is supposed to be and I have found the staff on numerous occasions in the nurse’s office drinking soda and gossiping while patients wait patiently in the lobby to be attended to. When Kitty, my boss, came to visit my site in February, I organized a meeting with the doctor, nurse, and obstetric nurse—confirmed it 3 times—and in the moment of the meeting itself, Kitty and I encountered them strolling down the street in the opposite direction of the posta where the meeting was to be held. Then they had the nerve to say to my boss that they won’t be able to work with me unless I can provide soda for each one of the meetings we have and on occasion snacks…otherwise nobody will show up. HA!
Working with school faculty has not proven to be more promising. In the high school, half the faculty is contracted, meaning they too will be gone in a year and unable to continue my work. The other half, well don’t get me started on the other half. One of my favorites is notorious for sleeping through his first few classes then showing up hung over and sending his students out to buy water for him. The director is another peach. He supposedly held a meeting with the rest of the faculty last year advising them that I am here to spy on La Grama for the US government. Only recently have things improved with him (though I still hold a bit of a grudge) and I have been permitted to work there. In the primary school things are a bit better but not by much. The focus of my work is supposed to be on adolescents, but given the tense relations I have with the director of the high school, I have to work where work is available. When the primary school director approached me back in March to give computer and English classes to grades 1-6, I was excited at the prospect of taking on a regular schedule of work (though admittedly not thrilled about teaching English). I agreed on the condition the that the teachers teach alongside of me in the computer classes—if they didn’t know anything about computers they could help me control the class and learn along with the students so that next year they’d be able to take over the class. Sustainable, right? Fat chance. Things have definitely NOT gone according to plan, and guess how many teachers help me out instead of slinking out the door the moment I arrive..? I’m ashamed to answer that.
So what am I doing with my time? What does it feel like to be a Peace Corps volunteer? Hard to say because each and every day is so unique. One day I return home from my classes strayed out, frustrated, wondering why I bother. Then, that same afternoon, I’ll encounter my students in the street and they will greet me with a proud grin on their face and a bit of the English I’ve taught them, “good afternoon, teacher.” Or, I’ll go to the Internet and find someone practicing their typing skills instead of playing violent games on the web. Then there’s that group of shy girls in the high school who I encouraged to participate in a skit for the mother’s day celebration that came out of their shells for a moment to act ridiculous in front of a large group of people. Baby steps I suppose. So maybe computer classes won’t continue when I’m gone, and the self-esteem and leadership workshops will be few and far between, but I have to believe my time here is valuable. Maybe, just maybe, after spending 2 years here in this beautiful paradise, I will have gotten through to a few kids. Maybe the times we spent together will have meant something to them and they will look back on those moments fondly. Perhaps my 2 years of service to La Grama will give its people a more favorable impression of the United States. At a time when my country has fallen out of the good graces of so many in the international community, it can’t hurt to win a few more over to our side. If by chance another volunteer replaces me when I leave, I don’t want the director of the high school to believe he/she is a spy, but rather a bighearted American here to offer what modest knowledge he/she has to offer. That would make my time here (work wise) definitely worthwhile.
In La Grama there is no major NGO presence, leaving very few options for community partners. As a youth development volunteer, my principle partners work in the schools and health post. Collaboration has not proven easy. The health post staff is made up of a doctor, nurse, obstetric nurse and 2 techs. They serve the entire district, meaning that they rarely have time for extra projects. What’s more, they are unreliable. The health post is rarely opened at the hour it is supposed to be and I have found the staff on numerous occasions in the nurse’s office drinking soda and gossiping while patients wait patiently in the lobby to be attended to. When Kitty, my boss, came to visit my site in February, I organized a meeting with the doctor, nurse, and obstetric nurse—confirmed it 3 times—and in the moment of the meeting itself, Kitty and I encountered them strolling down the street in the opposite direction of the posta where the meeting was to be held. Then they had the nerve to say to my boss that they won’t be able to work with me unless I can provide soda for each one of the meetings we have and on occasion snacks…otherwise nobody will show up. HA!
Working with school faculty has not proven to be more promising. In the high school, half the faculty is contracted, meaning they too will be gone in a year and unable to continue my work. The other half, well don’t get me started on the other half. One of my favorites is notorious for sleeping through his first few classes then showing up hung over and sending his students out to buy water for him. The director is another peach. He supposedly held a meeting with the rest of the faculty last year advising them that I am here to spy on La Grama for the US government. Only recently have things improved with him (though I still hold a bit of a grudge) and I have been permitted to work there. In the primary school things are a bit better but not by much. The focus of my work is supposed to be on adolescents, but given the tense relations I have with the director of the high school, I have to work where work is available. When the primary school director approached me back in March to give computer and English classes to grades 1-6, I was excited at the prospect of taking on a regular schedule of work (though admittedly not thrilled about teaching English). I agreed on the condition the that the teachers teach alongside of me in the computer classes—if they didn’t know anything about computers they could help me control the class and learn along with the students so that next year they’d be able to take over the class. Sustainable, right? Fat chance. Things have definitely NOT gone according to plan, and guess how many teachers help me out instead of slinking out the door the moment I arrive..? I’m ashamed to answer that.
So what am I doing with my time? What does it feel like to be a Peace Corps volunteer? Hard to say because each and every day is so unique. One day I return home from my classes strayed out, frustrated, wondering why I bother. Then, that same afternoon, I’ll encounter my students in the street and they will greet me with a proud grin on their face and a bit of the English I’ve taught them, “good afternoon, teacher.” Or, I’ll go to the Internet and find someone practicing their typing skills instead of playing violent games on the web. Then there’s that group of shy girls in the high school who I encouraged to participate in a skit for the mother’s day celebration that came out of their shells for a moment to act ridiculous in front of a large group of people. Baby steps I suppose. So maybe computer classes won’t continue when I’m gone, and the self-esteem and leadership workshops will be few and far between, but I have to believe my time here is valuable. Maybe, just maybe, after spending 2 years here in this beautiful paradise, I will have gotten through to a few kids. Maybe the times we spent together will have meant something to them and they will look back on those moments fondly. Perhaps my 2 years of service to La Grama will give its people a more favorable impression of the United States. At a time when my country has fallen out of the good graces of so many in the international community, it can’t hurt to win a few more over to our side. If by chance another volunteer replaces me when I leave, I don’t want the director of the high school to believe he/she is a spy, but rather a bighearted American here to offer what modest knowledge he/she has to offer. That would make my time here (work wise) definitely worthwhile.
Collecting rocks by the river to make pachamanca. My hostmom and I.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Ayacuchoooo
I have arrived in Ayacucho, Peru..semana santa capital of Latin America!!! More to come!!!
Thursday, April 2, 2009
oops can´t believe i forgot to mention...
My hermosa sister Kathleen just celebrated 21 years and I wasn´t there to celebrate it with her or to make sure she didn´t get into too much trouble ;-)
Kathaleeny, I love you so much. I can´t believe what a beautiful young lady you have become...just yesterday we were having contests to see who could jump off the highest step on High Street, singing to Santa Claus, and chasing Tobie around the neighborhood. I hope you had a wonderful birthday, hermana. I will treat you to a pisco sour when you make it down to peru.
Kathaleeny, I love you so much. I can´t believe what a beautiful young lady you have become...just yesterday we were having contests to see who could jump off the highest step on High Street, singing to Santa Claus, and chasing Tobie around the neighborhood. I hope you had a wonderful birthday, hermana. I will treat you to a pisco sour when you make it down to peru.
Feliz Cumpleaños Kathleen!!!
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