Mira Mira Mira Mira Mira...

Who knew that a week of translating for a group of optometrists, ophthalmologists, opticians and nurses would be one of the most rewarding weeks I’ve had since I’ve been in Perú?

Vision Health International (http://visionhealth.org/) is a group of people who come down once a year to Piura, and they always ask Peace Corps Volunteers to help with translating. I decided to take part in this. At first, I was a little skeptical that my Spanish wouldn’t be good enough, but by the end of the week I felt more confident about my Spanish than I had in months.

If I went into every detail of this week this blog would be 100 pages long. I’m not going to bore you with details. The week consisted of translating for surgeons pre and post operation. Post operation, which we started with every morning, was the best part of the day. I was able to look at patients that were once cross-eyed and tell them they were going to straight eyes and better vision. I was able to let the cataract patients know that their eyesight was going to better within days. I was  thanked and given God’s blessing left and right and I didn’t even perform the surgery. Talk about an ego boost.

The latter half of the day was spent in Peace Corps Volunteer’s communities measuring people for glasses. This was the longest and most grueling part of the campaign. We would see 80-100 people a day and fit them for glasses. I repeated the same lines over and over again for hours, however, on the 2-hour car rides home I felt tired but the good type of tired. Accomplished tired. 

There is one day that I think I should describe.

I woke up in the morning to do post-operation translation and before I knew it one of the nurses thought it would be a cool thing to let volunteers see the emergency C-Sections going on in the O.R. The rest of the volunteers had already been in to see one so it was my turn. It was awesome to witness a baby being born, but not that awesome when the baby wouldn’t breathe… for 5 minutes. The entire O.R. stood in silence until the 10-pound baby screamed for the first time. Relief. The baby turned a normal color and was whisked away for measuring.

The next part of the day was spent in PCV Mallory’s site of Salitral. Salitral is about a 2-hour car ride from Piura and when we got there we had to forge a river with 2 small cars to get to the health post. My day was just getting crazier. When I walked in the health post I noticed in one of the rooms a young girl with her baby who was laying on one the medical beds. I asked her what was going on and she told me that her family was waiting for a car to go the hospital in Piura. The baby was born really early and was not doing well. I wished her the best and had to rush away because 100 people were waiting for glasses.

The day ended around 7p.m. and I walked back into the room where the girl was waiting with her baby. She had not moved. Neither did the baby. I asked what had happened and she told me that there were no cars to Piura because of the river and that the mayor had not given them enough gas to go in the town’s ambulance. At that moment I could not just leave without trying to do something. I was not going to go home that night with the thought of the baby laying there on that bed in the condition it was in. My parents raised me to never turn a blind eye. There was something we could do.

I passed the story on to some of the doctors that were there and right away they were digging in their pockets for anything they had to buy more gas. A few minutes later we were able to put the baby, the mom and her mother in the ambulance to go to the hospital. (Side note: I visited the teen mom and her baby in the hospital the next day and everyone should know he is doing well! He was hooked up to I.Vs and was put in a heating bed. He was going to be released a few days later).

The day didn’t end there though. We forged through the river again to go home and on the Pan-American Highway we ran RIGHT over a donkey going 100 mph. The donkey decided to take a snooze on the highway. There are no lights and we had no idea it was coming. Sparks were flying. We swerved into oncoming traffic. I saw my life flash before my eyes. The only response the driver had after we were all safe: “un burro” (donkey) as he kept at the same speed we were at before we hit it.  Oh, Perú.

Working with Vision Health was a very different experience than my typical work in Peace Corps. For the first time, in a long time, I was able to get immediate satisfaction. I got to see people get their vision back and I was a part of the team doing that. The work of a Peace Corps volunteer sometimes is never truly seen for years after a volunteer has left, but with VHI it was an incredible feeling to be valued and appreciated right away.

So, I know what you all want! Pictures! Here are some incredible pictures of the week I spent with unbelievable doctors and nurses!

The ONLY public hospital in Piura where the surgeries were performed.

Dr. Richard doing one of many cataract surgeries

Post-operaton cataract surgeries

Translating for my very favorite doctor.

The all-star post op team

Anna Kingman doing post-ops on the child surgeries

After a cross-eyed correction surgery!

Day 1 of the Eye Glass Campaign in Anna's site

The waiting room in Anna's site of Paltashaco.

Justin, Me and Dr. Richard waiting to start the day in Christina's site of Serran. 

The waiting room in Serran

Justin translating and fitting people for glasses!

Inspecting a 96 year old man's eye.... 

The 96 year old had been without a chunk of his eye for 2 weeks after getting hit with a stick.
Miraculously, there was no infection. Applied a few eye drops and off he went. 

Me, Kris and an old woman who came in complaining she couldn't
see her rice when she was cleaning it. We were able to fit her for glasses
and she left with 20/30 vision. She left grateful and overjoyed. One of
my favorite ladies I met during the week. She even showed up in pajamas, woman
after my own heart!

The best part of my job? Being able to hold chubby, little
Peruvian babies all the time!

Helping students in the town was a great feeling! Hopefully they
will go on to continue their studies :)

Forging the river to Mallory's site

Saying for the 1,000 time that day "Puedo leer para mi Seńora?"

Dr. Randy measuring for glasses!

PCV BJ and Ray all smiles!

The older woman were always so grateful, tapping me on my head
blessing me and kissing me and Kris before they left.

Anna Kingman giving a speech on behalf of the Peace
Corps Volunteer translators at the final dinner!

This blog post will never do the week I experienced justice. Vision Health International does an amazing job of changing lives and I am so happy I got to be a part of it. 

"A day spent without the sight or sound of beauty, the contemplation of mystery, or the search of truth or perfection is a poverty-stricken day; and a succession of such days is fatal to human life." - Lewis Mumford 

Until next time,

Brielle

Día a Día

I realized that I haven’t really given you guys an idea of what my day to day life is in Vice because of my site change. I  have been busy running around. So here is a little look at what my day is like.

8:00am: Wake up time. I don’t even need an alarm because I just so happen to be right across the street from the blaring loud speaker that screams the daily announcements to the town. I used to curse that thing, but now I find myself listening, eyes closed, to the announcements. Sometimes there is useful information on that thing!

(Conversation that happened with Lucas last week)

Lucas: Brielle, what did you do this morning?

Me: Well, my class was canceled.

Lucas: Why?

Me: There is no school today because of the Anniversary.

Lucas: How did you find that out?

Me: The loudspeaker screamed NO HAY CLASES!
Lucas: Guess that thing really is used for news.

If the loudspeaker isn’t waking me up my host mom yelling for my host brother does. It’s not a complete day without Rosa screaming “DIKKKSSSSOONNNNN”.

This is where I get really lucky. I have my own bathroom so I don’t have to worry about scurrying around the house in the morning and having people see me disheveled. I wake up and hop into my pleasantly cold shower. I love cold showers. You must be shocked. Why? Because I live in Piura-where the winters are hot (85 degrees) and the summers are HOTTER (lows of 90).

On a normal day, after my hower, I head downstairs to the restaurant and enjoy some Dunkin Donuts French Vanilla Coffee (I’m running a little low). If I’m feeling generous I call Jessica (my sitemate) to come drink it with me. I spend the time chatting with my host mother , who is preparing the restaurant for the day or catching up on the news.

Most of the activities I’m doing in the school happen before lunchtime (2pm). I currently have classes of Pasos Adelante going on and am trying to get tutoria (time when the kids basically sit around and do nothing) to start a creative writing class. I also decided for my own personal happiness I’m going to start going over to the Inicial (pre school nuggets) to read to them. Working with the pre-school kids is nowhere near Youth Development’s “target age”, but they are too cute to ignore and I’ve got the time to do it. **

 Around 2 p.m. I head over to the restaurant for lunch. The other day I was pleasantly surprised with something called Chupe. Chupe is a generic term used in South America to a variety of stew generally made with chicken, red meat, lamb or beef tripe and other offal, or with fish, shrimp, crayfish or shellfish such as loco, and vegetables, potatoes or yuca. My host mom is a phenomal cook and this chupe with shrimp, crayfish and full CRABS. It was delicious. I usually eat lunch with whoever is at the restaurant. I’m related to half of Vice so most of the time I’m eating with some tio or tia. Recently, the soccer team has moved back into town, and they are staying at the hospedaje (hostel) across from my house. They eat breakfast, lunch and dinner in my restaurant so there is never really a quiet moment during meals. It’s just the town gringa and the soccer team compartiring comida.

This is where my day varies. After lunch, people like to siesta (nap) and because I’m basically Peruvian… I nap as well. After a little snooze I usually go to the municipality to talk to my socia, Lorena, about anything that might be going on in Vice I should know about. Lorena, has become more like one of my best friends in this town. I can always count on her for a good laugh, and thankfully she is well connected and respected in the community. I always seem to hit the host family and counterpart lottery.

 I’ve recently been in the muni hussling people for materials for my WORLD MAP. This world map project will continue to haunt me for the rest of my service. This is what happened in my recent attempt to get materials for the map from the municipality. I wrote a long, drawn out solicitude (document asking for materials, what I was doing, pictures, etc) with my signature and stamp on it. I turned the document in and went in the next week to see if I had an answer. No answer. The lady in charge of making the decision was in Lima for God knows how long. I went back a few weeks later and received a paper saying “The map is a great idea, but can you write a paper to us saying you agree to move it to wall near the street so everyone can see it.” So I wrote up another long solicitude saying I agreed, turned it in and I’m currently still waiting for a response. I promised myself that I’d have this world map before COS (close of service). At this rate I may never make it back to the States.

Next, I either go for a walk with my site mate or sit in the chairs in front of my house. My house is in the perfect place for people watching and the breeze has recently come back to Piura. I sit and sometimes talk with Rosa as she cleans and prepares for dinner or I’ll watch Hugo lose at the card game he has every afternoon at 4 with his buddies. I also use this time to start doing my papelotes for my next class.

Dinner time! Before the soccer team made its’ way back into town I would eat dinner with Rosa and Hugo alone in the restaurant. I have to admit I miss the time alone with my host parents, but, it’s good for Rosa’s business. 

Then, I bust out my external hard drive and watch Boy Meets World (yup I have all seven seasons) or read. Take another shower if I’m feeling crazy, and go to bed only to start the day all over again.

**If anyone is interested in sending children’s books in SPANISH to the address on the site. The kids and I would love it! Not only am I planning on reading to these kids- I want to start putting better books in the towns library. I will also be back in the states in 2 weeks if you want to send them to my house!

…..And because you guys took the time to read all of that. Here are some random pictures of random things that happened over the last couple of months.

  

Hugo, me, Rosa in the restaurant 

CAMP V.A.L.O.R for Piura/Tumbes volunteers

Some of the hard working volunteers of Piura and Tumbes

Being silly.

Recycling Arts and Crafts with the Comité de la Mujer

Jessica's Bird

Arts and Crafts time with the gringas

Card project

Little Peruvian faces are the best.

One of the best parts about my job.

Giggles.

Little Peruvians wandering all over Vice.

Jessica and her host mom (one of my favorite people in Vice)

Vice 'always clean and beautiful'

Jessica's house!

Main street of Vice

Smith, the coolest and biggest dog in all of Vice.



I hope you enjoyed those :)

Until next time,

Brielle

There's No Crying in Baseball

There can’t be a Mother’s Day post without a Father’s Day post.

When I was in high school my father decided to coach my schools’ softball team. We didn’t have a coach and without him we wouldn’t have had a team. One day during practice I was pitching for batting practice indoors (luckily) and we weren’t using a real ball (thank GOD). I lobbed a ball to my teammate to hit and it came flying back at me. Before I even had time to lift my mitt the ball hit me in the head. I fell to the ground. When I finally came out of my fuzz, I had a huge migraine and all I remember was my father standing above me. I was two seconds from crying when he said very nonchalantly “Rub it, take some Advil, and let’s go.” Now, to some people, this might seem a little harsh. However, because of my father I have been taught to be tough and to remember, “There’s no crying in baseball.”

Before HS Prom

Being in the Peace Corps does mean you need to be mentally tough. You can experience extreme highs and lows within minutes and sometimes you want to quit. You will want to cry-possibly daily- but I always remember my dad, repeating Tom Hanks: “There’s NO crying in baseball.” You can’t wallow in your sadness and discomfort- and I thank my dad for constantly reinforcing that- even these days when I try to call and complain.

Dad and his 3rd and favorite child

I remember when I told my parents I wanted to join the Peace Corps. I thought my parents would think I was kidding. My dad responded before I could finish saying ‘Do I need to sign any papers right now’? Since I was younger, my dad has tried to instill in me something: that I’m not here on Earth to benefit myself, I’m here to benefit others. He believed it was extremely important to get out of my comfort zone, live abroad and give back.

When asked in school ‘Who is your hero?’… I always answered my dad. With most of the odds stacked against him, he overcame and became a great husband and father. I’ll be lucky if I turn out to be half the person he is.

 Happy Father’s Day, Dad, thank you for always pushing me to be better.

"So stand up straight, shoulders back, and start setting goals to make things better for others and yourself. Remember I LOVE you, and will help you to effect change for the good. Finish strong in school, form good networks, ask people if you can help. You are officially an adult, but still my daughter."

-Gerard Colby

Until next time,

Brielle 

Happy 1 Year, Perú 17.

“After a day at a retreat center... I will be picked up by my host family and then things really get interesting....”

And, boy, did they get interesting.

I wrote that a year ago, today. I had been staring at this blank page of a soon to be new and important blog for a long time before I wrote anything down. There is so much of me that can’t wrap my head around the fact that I’ve been here a year.

Like Rent, how do you measure a year?

In mangos? In ants? In pounds of rice and potatoes? In mosquito bites? In cold showers? In dinámicas? In cervezas? In care packages? In vacation days? In Peace Corps acronyms?

It seems like yesterday we were all dropped off at the training center and we were standing in front of our soon-to-be host families for training. Melissa, my host sister, picked me up and brought me home to a host family that I consider now like my real family. My host mom, Carmen, was pregnant at the time with a baby girl who is now my beautiful namesake and goddaughter. I felt Brielle Ann kick during training and she was born happy and health in October 2011. Now, she’s a chubby little baby trying to talk and walk. Where did the year go?

It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in a retreat center with almost 50 other strangers. Strangers that later would become the most important and invaluable part of my service thus far. We came from all over the United States with different beliefs and backgrounds and we became one very dysfunctional family. Peru 17 was the first group to make it to swear in with all its’ trainees since 2004. As a group, we have had our ups and downs, but I’m extremely proud to be part of such a loud (I can hear Richard laughing all the way from Arequipa), creative and resilient group of people. Where did the year go?

In a year I have experienced 2 host family changes and a site change. I have been sick more times than I can count, and I’ve eaten more rice than I thought my stomach could hold. A year ago, then me, could barely get through a sentence in Spanish, and now, I’m teaching in front of classrooms of teenagers. A year ago, then me, couldn’t imagine being on a bus for more than 3 hours. Now, 15 hours isn’t even that long. A year ago, then me, didn’t think she’d make it to a year. Now, here I am.

A year in Perú.

I have been challenged in ways I couldn’t imagine. I have had successes I never thought possible. I have formed strong relationships both with volunteers and Peruvians alike. I have had my share of highs and lows. I have thought about giving up, but later remembered why I was here. Where did the year go?

I’m grateful everyday for what Peru has given me: both the good and the bad. I have grown from both.

Happy 1 year, Perú 17.

Here is to another year.

"Five seagulls are sitting on a dock. One of them decides to fly away. How many seagulls are left?"


"Well...  four."


"No," he responded. "There are still five. Deciding to fly away and actually flying away are two very different things. Listen to me carefully. Despite popular belief to the contrary, there is absolutely no power in intention. The seagull may intend to fly away, may decide to do so, may talk with other seagulls about how wonderful it is to fly, but until the seagull flaps his wings and takes air, he is still on the dock. There's no difference between that gull and all the others. Likewise, there is no difference in the person who intends to do things differently and the one who never thinks about it in the first place." -Andy Andrews, The Noticer

Until Next Time,

Brielle