When Hunger Strikes

This is dedicated to anyone who has been around me when I’m hungry. You are all saints.

 Lately, I’ve been waking up TEMPRANITO.

((Break in the story: By tempranito I mean 8 am.  I’ve had debates with Hugo many a times on what exactly tempranito is. The other night he asked me what I had planned for the next day. I told him I was waking up tempranito. He gave me his Hugo glare and bellowing voice “Brielle, 8am is not TEMPRANITO, 6am is, pues.” Ok Hugo, who died and made you ruler on what is early and what is not? To each her/his own. ))

So, anyways, I woke up early yesterday and guzzled down 3 cups of Dunkin Donuts coffee on an empty stomach. Ah, the taste of home. Thirty minutes later I felt like I was having a heart attack and I couldn’t sit still. I was going to be spending the day in one of the annexes of Vice, and the extra caffeine was helping… until of course the inevitable crash.

Oh and did I crash. I was cranky, sunburnt, and uh-oh… hungry. I was so irritable that on the entire hour car ride home through the desert I was thinking of the quickest food I could prepare to suck down. However, everyday when I come home Hugo is there to welcome me and ask me to check his email for him, get my clean clothes out of his room and tell me every detail about his day. Not. Right. Now. Hugo.

Let me preface this also by saying… this is not the first time this has happened.

Hugo was learning. He saw immediately in my eyes and heard in my voice that I was in the “Brielle -hasn’t- eaten –all- day- don’t- speak -to –her- until -she –has- food –in- her- mouth- no –she- will- not- sit- at -the –table- and- yes- she- will- eat- it- with- her- hands –because- she- can’t- find -silverware” mood. Before he could even tell me to go downstairs and eat I said, “Yes, I’m starving, I haven’t eaten all day”. Then I got the look. The look I dread.

Rosa. Is. Not. Home.

Sure, I have tons of lettuce in the fridge and some oatmeal mom sent from home. Nothing I knew would satisfy the hunger I had. I pouted the whole way down the ladder (yes we have a large ladder that goes into our kitchen in the back) hoping that Rosa had saved something from lunch. Nope, she left for the chakra and forget about her beloved hija.

Now Hugo is laughing. Oh no you don’t Hugo. This is not the time or the place to be laughing at me. I will cut you up into pieces, marinate you and throw you on the gas stove with some papas fritas as a side. Just as I finished fantasizing about a Hugo sandwich I heard these words “Brielle I have food for you. My mom told me you ask to try some of this yesterday. We brought it down in a tupper for you.” 

JESSICA’S (my site mate) HOST BROTHER THEN HANDED OVER A WHOLE PLATE OF FOOD.

I looked up and Hugo was in shock.

“Tienes suerte, Brielle, tienes mucho suerte.”

Why do I have luck must you ask? As Hugo put it “You scream and pout about being hungry and food just magically appears prepared for you.”

Yes, I was being a baby, but I was hungry.

Let’s not forget that Hugo stood next to me (like I said I don’t sit) and was eating some of my food. He only got away with this after bringing a large bottle of Inca Kola to share.

 … and everyone lived happily ever after without a Hugo sandwich.

“You are like the world’s most annoying Tamogachi”

- Lucas Stellar

Until next time,

Brielle 

One Year in PHOTOS!

Below is a video made up of photos from my entire first year here in Perú. It is kind of lengthy! Enjoy!

Part of the Family

First I would like to say, I know I don’t say it enough but I’m grateful for all you amazing people back home that find the time in your day to shoot me an email, message or snail mail. I know we are all pretty busy with our lives, but it means the world to know I have such a great group of people in my life back home. With your prayers, your words of encouragement and just general awesomeness I’m still here. With that said, read on.

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Past volunteers used to say that I’d feel more rooted in my community come my second year. I won’t feel the urge to run away to the capital city as much. I didn’t believe this when I was in Tamarindo and I wasn’t convinced I would feel like that after my site change because I was starting over with new counterparts and a new family. I had basically given up on even thinking I was going to do something I felt good about after I left. I would go to bed every night wishing the days would start moving faster.

Those volunteers, people I am so grateful to have met, were right. I was so very, very wrong.

The days need to slow down.

Over the past couple of days I felt the need to write about my host family. Daily, because of them, I am reminded that there were people back home praying that my situation here in Perú would get better. Thank-you. I have had moments recently that have forced me to do a double take to make sure I wasn’t talking to my biological parents.

Hugo, my host father, is a man who I am grateful beyond words for. I adore him even if I can’t understand him half the time. When I returned back to Vice from medical checks I got news that one of Hugo’s cousins had died in a motorcycle accident. He asked me to accompany him to a memorial. I walked in and sat down with 4 other old men and watched as Hugo told story after story about his cousin. A woman came out and asked, “Is this your girlfriend?” The shock on Hugo’s face was priceless. His response even more so: “No this is my DAUGHTER!” The woman quickly apologized. I was proud, beaming nonetheless, because it was the first time I had ever really heard him say it.

A little later on in the week I had been having a really stressful day. My Spanish had been failing me and people were changing dates to events I had planned. I also hadn’t eaten a single thing all day (we all know how I get). I came home and Hugo went about his normal routine by asking me 100 questions. Finally, I told  Hugo to leave me alone I haven’t eaten all day and I’m not having a good day. His response: COME, PUES!!!!! (Well then eat). He rushed me downstairs; fixed me some grilled chicken and poured a large glass of Inca Kola for the both of us. He spent the next hour asking me about my day and giving me wise advice. I went to bed completely surprised at how my host dad, who I met only 6 months ago and speaks a completely different language, turned my day around. My friend Kelsey has even mentioned numerous times that we have a very regular father/daughter relationship. He tells me to put pants on for fancy events, I tell him I’m not changing, he glares and I stomp upstairs and change. 

Then there is Rosa. I honestly don’t think the woman sleeps. Without her, my life would be a lot more annoying. She has hot water ready at the same time every morning for me so I can make my coffee, she cleans my room when I’m away, she washes my clothes and is always, always offering encouraging words. Oh, incase that wasn’t enough, she runs the most popular restaurant in Vice almost completely by herself from dawn to dusk, takes care of her extremely sick dad and slaves away in the chakra once the restaurant is closed. Just tonight, after thinking I completely broke her gas stove (it just ran out of gas), I was able to have a one-on-one conversation with her. This is rare because like I said she is an extremely busy woman. She told me about her sisters (all 10 of them) and in her voice I could tell she was a little jealous that she only had 2 children because most of them have 6 or 7. She told me a story of an abusive husband her sister had married and how she employs her to make sure she has her own income. She told me that, despite their occasional bickers, Hugo is a good man and she’s lucky to have him. I came away from the conversation pretty sure Rosa was going to turn into Superwoman and fly away.

Last, but certainly not least, is Dixon. He is his mother’s son. He is soft spoken, genuine, helpful and sneaky funny! He is currently studying accounting in Piura. He travels in and out of the big city everyday and on his time off he is helping his mother with the restaurant. Dixon won me over with food (he knows me too well) when Rosa had to go to Piura to take care of her dad. He invited me to pollo a la brasa (one of my FAVORITES) and we sat over dinner and talked. Just like his mother, he was patient with my Spanish and genuinely interested in my life before the Peace Corps. Sometimes girl volunteers can find it hard to relate to younger Peruvian men but I never have felt that way with Dixon, and am very happy he’s my younger brother. 

This post would run on for days if I started talking about the extended family I have also grown to adore over these past 6 months. I will save that for another day and another blog post.

I finish this post feeling settled. I don’t feel the urge to run to the capital city, and I’m overall so completely happy. Lucas called me the other day only to say one thing: “I’m proud of you”. I wasn’t sure why so I asked. His response was simple: “Because you’re still here.”

I’m proud of myself, too.

Until next time,

Brielle

Huancabamba, Medical Checks and Year 2 Starts

I’m sorry for my lack of posting. I have been a bit busy over this past month. If it weren’t for the incessant emails from my mother saying nothing more than “UPDATE BLOG PLEASE” I probably wouldn’t have gotten around to this. So, enjoy!

When I returned from the States it was time to celebrate Fiestas Patrias. I, along with a few other volunteers, decided to explore the mountains of Piura. We went to a town called Huancabamba or better known as the “Poor Man’s Ancash”. It was incredible. At times I had to keep reminding myself that I was in Piura. There were rolling green hills, lakes and waterfalls. The peaceful, sierran town was exactly what we all needed. One of the days we took a 3 ½ hour hike to Lake Shimbe where some volunteers were able to participate in a Shaman ritual. Then, only the brave jumped into the nearly freezing lake. The views and company were a great way to celebrate this holiday in Perú.

We welcomed the 7 new volunteers from Peru 19 to Piura and then it was off to MEDICAL CHECKS! Holy crap! I made it a year in site in Peru (with a little bit of a site change thrown in there). Med checks were great because it allowed all of Peru 17 Youth Development to finally all be in the same spot. This hasn’t happened since November of last year. To say the least I missed my friends that had been scattered all over Peru. We pooped in some cups, presented our 1 year successes, planned for our 2^nd year and celebrated the fact we were all still in Perú.

So now it’s time for year 2 to start. Let me tell you, it’s already looking better than year one. I came back and my Pasos Adelante classes started in Vice! I was able to pull the class off with the help of my sitemate Jessica and my amazing socias Ely and Lorena. I was really proud of the kids. They were participatory and honest. I couldn’t have asked for more. I’m excited for what lies ahead in these classes.

I have also decided to start a Creative Writing/Reading Comprehension class with 11-13 year olds in Vice. The school was given 20 new educational laptops. In order to use both creativity and technology together I asked Jessica to come and teach the kids how to use the laptops. Our first lesson was with the book “The Giving Tree”. Creative thinking is not something that is taught in the Peruvian school system. For the most part, the kids are used to copying down everything the teacher writes on the board without having to use any of their own ideas. I decided to read the book to the kids, ask a few questions and have them create their own giving tree. The kids had to write, inside a leaf, about a time someone was generous to them. I had Jessica give an example. Most of the kids, not all, copied exactly what Jessica had said. I knew that a Creative Writing class was not something that was going to go perfectly on the first shot. I was, however, impressed by the kids’ behavior and participation. They were quiet, colored, raised their hands before they spoke and created an awesome tree to hang in their classroom. It didn’t go perfect, but I was satisfied with the first class.

Then there was the 2^nd class. It was like night and day.

As most of you know, my patience wears thin… quickly. These kids were bouncing off the walls, could barely pay attention to what I was reading and stared at me blankly when I told them the assignment. They were more anxious to run to the bathroom than to color the leaf that was in front of them. I started to feel really down. I couldn’t understand how the first class was so drastically different then the 2^nd class. By the end I was exhausted and not sure if I was really doing something worth my time. I knew I was taking on a lot by doing a creative writing class with these kids, but I was not ready for the utter chaos that went with it. I wasn’t even angry at the kids. I was angry that teachers and parents even allowed it to get this bad. After a few encouraging words from friends afterwards I have know that the most I can do for these kids is show up, every Wednesday, and not give up on them. I may not be able to get them all inspired to write their own short stories by the end, but I hope to at least get one persons’ creative juices flowing.

And, here is my favorite part of year 2. Jessica and I are both communication majors and it finally came to us to use our specialties. We now have our own RADIO SHOW (complete with a DJ booth, it really is very official) every Friday from 10am-11am. It is going to be called “La Hora Gringa”. We’re going to be discussing some topics for youth, parents and playing some great music. I’m about to be famous, people.

Now, here, as I always promise, are some pictures to prove to you I really am in Perú volunteering and not sitting on a beach with a cocktail in hand like my dad thinks!

Ladies in Huancabamba, Piura

Rolling green hills!

Lake Shimbe

In front of Lake Shimbe

Hanging out

Lake Shimbe

Kelsey and I at Med Checks!

Peru 17 Youth Development making it 1 year!

Teaching Pasos!

Pasos with the girls!

Pasos with the boys.

Creative Writing class with 6A!

The boys of 6A!

Some of the girls of 6A!

6A!

Teaching creative writing!

6A's Giving Tree.

6B!

Some of the girls from 6B!

Little faces 

Faces of 6B!

                                                         Inicial kids.

Then I went and visited the host family of a past volunteer in San Clemente. The town is a short moto taxi ride. I took some photos of the sweetest little girl Angeles. She is the host sister and goddaughter of past volunteer Libby Salerno.

Angeles

                                                

Precious!

Angeles and I

Hope you enjoyed the photos!

Until next time,

Brielle