Blog? Sure!

Hey all...How do you do? So, I decided to start a blog...I hope communication is easier this way!

Well, I've wrapped up my first month here in Peru. All is well and things are great. I hope this, my first entry, finds you well...wherever YOU may be.

So, what goes down in a month? Well, more than one would think, I suppose. Needless to say, it's been quite the trip already. The two day staging in Philly was wrecking. After flying out of Minneapolis @ 5:00 AM in the morning, I was forced to function full throttle for a couple of days with little fuel. More so, I was overstimulated upon meeting a super gnarly group of folks...and squeezing in our last couple rounds of North American beer (Oh how I miss you already tinted goodness). We caught a bus out of Philly @ 3:30 AM headed for JFK in NY. Entonces, we flew through Miami to Lima, Peru. As imagined, everyone was absolutely shattered. After clearing customs, I walked into what appeared to be a sea of back hair...I'm way to tall for this country (especially the public transportation)...but it's all good, no worries!

Blah blah blah, I have been with my family for just over one month now. They are super chill. I live in a small mountain village about 45 minutes outside of Lima. It's much different than the last mountain village I lived in. This time, I'm in the desert (as apposed to the rain forest in Costa Rica). A couple weeks ago, I took the 2 or 3 mile hike up through the mountains to see our local Incan ruins. We had a Quechuan friend as a guide. In fact, he took us through all of the ceremonial stuff...it was pretty intense, no doubt. The ruins are huge designs in the sand. Similar to the Nazca Lines, but on a smaller scale. Anyway, my casa, I don't have a tin roof. Rather, I live in a cement box...which is just fine. Every morning, I stare at the freezing water coming out of the shower faucet which is partially located outdoors; noting the steam that is my breath...growling....flexing...and doing whatever I can to pump myself up for the pre-rinse. More so, after the lather, covered in goosebumps, I do the Varsity breakdown while rinsing off; anything to retain a little body heat. Thus, my mornings seem eventful after being awake for only two minutes (mostly because I'm stark naked as this is going down...and it's not all that flattering). Despite all this, it turns out that I am lucky...some of my co-volunteers don't have running water, and do bucket showers. Most of the time, I'm up before the roosters that stay in my backyard...lazy bastards. I guess I don't “technically” have running water. We just have a huge tub of water on the roof that feeds the faucets via gravity. Needless to say, I don't dare drink that fucking water..neither does my fam; they're not that hardcore.

Like I said, my family is great. My home stay mom is very friendly and has 1000000000 questions to ask me...all of which I am pleased to answer. More so, we talk about everything from AIDS and Peruvian culture and machismo, to Brittany Spears and bad words (at which time I heard her say 'fuck' about 50 times; it was rad). Also, I have a 9 and 12 year old brother, and a 4 year old niece. They too have a million questions, but seem more interested in my electronics and why the hell I have blue eyes. Another great dimension is my father. He's hilarious, and loves talking shit to me...which I am quick to retaliate. Furthermore, homeboy likes to party. He's got a lot of love for the fam, which is unfortunately rare in many parts of Latin America. It turns out that we have very similar senses of humor. For instance, I was sitting on the floor in my kitchen cutting my fingernails when he says to me “don't cut those! The men in Peru just eat their nails”. I proceeded to tell him that if he wanted, I would put my fingernails in a bowl and he could eat them later. They reacted like it was the funniest thing they have ever heard. Actually, I'm pretty sure they think I'm crazy...who knows, they might be right. They get a kick out of my stories...like prior travels, prior work experiences...the bungee jumping in South Africa is their favorite (and probably the most difficult to explain).

In order to get to my training center, I have to hike about ¾ mile down the mountain to a fairly busy road. There, I catch a combi (minibus...way better than those in South Africa, but hectic in their own right) for about 10 or 15 minutes. Then I walk about another 1/2 mile to the center. I'm in training (but not always at the center) from 8 AM until 5 PM Mon – Sat. (usually done by 2 on Saturdays, though). Actually, on Saturdays I've been attending organic farming/gardening techniques courses at a agricultural university about 45 minutes away. My days are long, and intense....but we tend to keep it mellow. Even when I'm not in training, they've got us working on projects in various communities, or just experiencing the culture. The Spanish improves a little with every conversation (at least that's what I tell myself)...it has to, there isn't much of an option. Actually, like anything else, I have my good days and my bad days. However, I just recently tested into the level that one is required to achieve prior to beginning their actual service, so I've got that going for me. I'll tell ya, life's a trip! Plus, I'm back to eating meats whose origin I am unaware of at times. What's more, I often feel like a celebrity in my hood...living life in an aquarium has its ups and downs.

How are the fiestas? Well, Peruvians like to throw down...they could easily do a fifth year at St. John's! Father's Day was an all day drinking excursion. It was great. Beer, wine, and Pisco, which is similar to guaro...just some nasty-ass home brew that makes you spit fire. The wine here kind of sucks in my opinion (but others really like it); it's really sweet and dulce (you bitches would like it (KIDDING)). However, Chile is nearby and I'm hoping to dabble in their exports once I can afford to.

Two weekends ago, my town had a fiesta to celebrate San Pablo and San Pedro...I'm still not sure why. However, they threw one hell of a ripper! The scariest part is that they celebrate in two ways: #1 by drinking excessively and #2 by playing with fireworks...the kind that would make D-Rod scared. For example, they have this thing called Torro Loco (crazy bull for you non-castillano speaking fools). Anyway, a guy gets underneath this huge papermachette bull that's covered in fireworks. Then, homeboy precedes to run into the crowds as the fireworks launch in whichever direction. The crowds scream, laugh, and run for their lives. Scary? Well, maybe. However, when Torro Loco is on the other side of the stadium, it's funny as hell! So far, I've made it out unscathed. At our fiesta the other weekend, they did Torro Loco 3 times...it only got increasingly reckless. The best part was after, when my home stay dad and I took it to the roof until 4:30AM with a bottle of Pisco and a bag of lemons...life is fucking nuts I'll tell ya!

How's the food? Well, Peru is the land of 1000 potatoes...fucking papas. They are good, but I've never been exposed to the vast selection available. There's no way any gringo can ever distinguish all of them. I just stuff them in my mouth and say rico. Potatoes and rice...and usually some meat. However, the other weekend, my family took me to a pacha manca. It was pretty gnarly. They heat rocks over a bonfire. Meanwhile, they dig another hole for cooking. They put one layer of rocks down, then a layer of meat wrapped in corn husks or banana leafs, then another layer of rocks, then some more meat...they do that about 3 or 4 times. Then they throw in some potatoes...of course. Onces they finished playing jenga with rocks, meat, and papas, they cover it all with dirt and let it sit for an hour or two. While it cooks, you socialize...of course! When it's uncovered, you grub on some super rico beef, chicken, goat, pork, guinea pig, and potatoes...just chew carefully because sometimes little pebbles find their way into your grub. Food is a very key component of the culture. They have a great deal of pride in their cooking...and yes, it's pretty f'n rico.

I haven't really gotten a chance to do too much traveling. Which is pretty chill though because not going to touristy areas also has its upside, I suppose. However, I did make it down to this super chill bohemian city on the coast with some friends...that was pretty cool with its victorian structures and Peruvian hippies. In addition, I'm heading up to the northern coast next week with a small group of volunteers to see what life is all about up there. In case you haven't caught the news, Machu Pichu just made it into the 7 wonders of the world. The people got rowdy...What else is there to do but celebrate? However, I suspect that reservations to get onto the Inca Trail (leading up to Macho Pichu) will book up fast...I'm talking like a year in advance. So, keep that in mind you who think you want to come down for a visit!

Last week, I was sick as hell. Apparently, some virus has been going around Lima. I was left immobile in my bed for two days with cold sweats, a fever, ill stomach, a full body ache, and a helpless feeling. However, some of my courageous fellow volunteers stopped by for a visit to cheer me up. I had Nicaragua flashbacks when my home stay family continually tried to convince me to get an injection...of what, I'm not exactly sure. Either way, I'm much better now...and hoping my antibodies will keep me right for the years to come!

That's about it for now. All is well down here on the South Side. Of course, I'm always tired. It's funny how 'thinking' can wear you out! Y que mas, I don't even fit in my bed (it's a bunk bed...6 feet long). I have no complaints, though. It's hard to complain about much when I'm living in the barrio I do. Even though I'm living off of 8 Nueva Soles per day (about 2 dollars and 75 cents), I am a rich man...and always have been. The next 5 weeks of training will surely wear me out. However, I have no doubt that I will be prepared for my 2 years of service when finished.

When I get a free moment, I go on the roof of my house and catch my breath. We have a pretty good view of the lower half of the mountain. Fwieough...I'm out of breath, and out of here. Stay well amigos.

chau,
Frank