All Clear For Landing

So, I'm here. I've landed; and it has all begun. The village-life adjustments have been interesting. After three months, one would think that I would know better than to expect everything to go flawlessly. And, OH how interesting it's been. However, I am going to take it from the top...

Peru 9 has officially passed training. A combination of 31 (4 were lost along the way) Youth Development and Small Business volunteers were welcomed into the world of Peace Corps by our in-country staff, our host families, and a very green ambassador. In fact, it was his first day on the job. If you ask me, I think that's a pretty legit first day at the office; as far as politics are concerned, anyway.

We went out with a bang. After all, any comfort we found in spending nine hours a day in training with persons of similar cultural backgrounds would soon be lost. Actually, I had no idea how much life would change without that last-line support network. Our goodbyes were long and very formal. Getting a group of Peace Corps Volunteers to dress formally for their Swearing In Ceremony wasn't as difficult as one would think. In fact, one could even say that we were dressed to the nines...(there's a very daft joke in there. Sorry, but I couldn't help it).

In all reality, it was very sad to close that life chapter. Although short-lived, we all became very comfortable with our host families and living situations just outside Lima. It's true, you can find angels anywhere you go. Indeed, tears were shed by some as our bus pulled away; away from our temporary families and turning the page for what lies ahead (Of course there were no tears from me, though...I've accrued too much that “machismo” JUST KIDDING). Nonetheless, we'll be back to visit!

That last week was suffocating with excitement. Goodbye parties and last Huh-Rah's. A bit too much dancing, and maybe a few too many cervezas. Either way, I had a blast eating too many anticuchos (skewed cow hearts) while grooving to Grupo Cinco (the latest Peruvian pop group). Those kind of memories never dematerialize!

And then, before we new it, we all arrived in our department capitals. For me, Huaraz (the capital of Ancash) was nothing more than a further deferment of what was soon to be.

In passing, I was able to reap a few luxuries before heading off to site. For example, that bountiful portion of grilled chicken, a few more conversations with an English-speaking friend, a sense of anonymity, and whatever comforts a small department capital can provide,...but most importantly, that electric shower at the youth hostel! Then, I was off to site...

With my body bearing all the weight it could, from camping equipment and clothes, to training materials and food, I clambered on to the bus. After 3.5 hours on the winding mountain roads I arrived at the “larger” city (pop of about 5000) near my placement reasoning two conclusions. One: my i-pod doesn't work when it hits about 4000 meters (about 2.5 miles) above sea level in an unpressurized cabin, and Two: I have WAY too many things!

Determining it unfeasible to hike an hour down the valley with all of my gear, I was forced to wait-out a transportation opportunity. After about an hour and a half of waiting, and several curbside conversations later, I climbed into a conked out combi and headed for my site. Zooming down the fractured dirt roads, I was dropped off at the town's entrance.


There I was, the tall gringo; nervous, suspicious, unsure, and wary, dragging himself and all his things through the fields and up through town just before sunset. When, finally, I landed! Standing on the doorstep (or where a doorstep would be if adobe houses had doorsteps that is), my family greeted me warmly.

All of the traveling, in combination with the fiestas of the week prior, had left me exhausted. My only wish was to gradually begin the moving in process and get some rest. Well, and so it goes, I stumbled over a few setbacks.

First, my room was not ready. Peace Corps rules say that you need to have your own personal bedroom with a barred window and a door that locks (both a privacy and security interest). I had made this fact well known to my family during my week long visit last month. “OK, deep breath” I told myself. Even though I had been in highest hopes to retreat to privacy, I was quite aware that this was just a minor pothole in the rocky road that is Peace Corps service. And so, I was destined to sleep in the corner, on the floor, in the upper loft of the adobe house, sharing the room with the entire family for a week and a half. In reality, not all that bad. However, the real kicker was yet to come.

I believe my new host family could detect my dejection, as they attempted to lift my spirits by bringing me to the “new” bathroom. They walked me out to our backyard. As we approached a three foot stack of adobe bricks in the corner (they always underestimate my height), my new host mother, with a stately smile, said something similar to “We made you a hole. It's your hole. For you, and nobody else”. “Spectacular” I thought to myself with stinging satire as I looked over her shoulder and into the earthen cavity which I am to slowly fill with excrement. However, in an instant, I was smiling cheek-to-cheek. Something struck me. Their appealing attempts to comfort me had done so in another manner. When I realized that they had given me my own hole...MY VERY OWN HOLE...I was quite flattered. More so, the mere thought of trying to fill a hole almost made me laugh out loud! It's a new normal, no doubt.

Sure enough, those minor setbacks were just that; temporary stressors. “Making the best of any given situation” and “turning one's predicament into a human achievement” have never seemed more pertinent (I've been passing time with Viktor Frankl). The novelty of the hole hasn't quite worn off. In addition, I still find myself going to the bathroom in the pastures next to the cows, sheep, burros, or what have you, when there's too much commotion in the backyard..or just for a change of scenery (and what beautiful scenery it is). More so, I will be moving into my own room very soon! Also, I still shower underneath a water spigot about 2.5 feet off the ground in site of all those who pass by. Even then, I find great joy in freaking out the town...just imagine what they think when they see an enormous gringo, shirt off, jeans rolled up, and a head full of shampoo!

All that said, I'm having a great time. I'm learning a lot, teaching a little, and sharing it all. Every day is an expedition filled with new opportunities and random happenings. In fact, I'm off to bed...just because I'm curious to see what tomorrow brings.

Stay well.