Chocolatadas and panetón

Last night I participated in my first (of what is soon to be many) Peruvian chocolatada. A chocolatada is a Christmas tradition here that basically means having a holiday get-together where hot chocolate is made and served. Approximately every possible group of Peruvians will host a chocolatada at some point during the Christmas season (i.e. every school, association, government office, family, church, etc.). My group of señoras tejedoras (women who knit) were nice enough to invite me to their annual Christmas party. 

It was a typical Peruvian fiesta: all the guests sat around the edge of the room in pre-located chairs, we chatted, Christmas(?) music played on the stereo, we waited literally two hours for all the guests to arrive, then the hostess walked around the circle of chairs and served each person a piece of candy, a mug of hot chocolate, and a piece of panetón. We sat in our chairs, ate/drank, chatted some more, and then we went home happy as can be. This sitting and serving process is standard order of business for any, holiday or non-holiday, Peruvian party. 

You could tell this particular party was Christmas-themed because of three factors: 1) the holiday decorations around the room; 2) the delicious hot chocolate (made the right way with real chocolate melted in warm milk); and 3) the panetón. What, you might ask, is panetón? Panetón is the single item that outstrips hot chocolate as the key Peruvian Christmas staple. It is essentially a large, cylindrical, sold-in-a-box, incredibly dry, mass-produced fruit cake. And it is everywhere! Panetón is, to say the least, not my favorite holiday delicacy. I would much rather be spending December somewhere where Christmas cookies and/or santa-shaped Russel Stovers lined the walls of every store in town, but unfortunately my lot this year is panetón-covered Cajabamba. 

But in truth, aside from the panetón-heavy and cookie-lacking situation, Cajabamba's looking pretty cheery. There are Christmas decorations all around the plaza, including stand-up lighted shapes and even a couple reindeer. 

The municipality has spent what must be a significant chunk of its annual budget to ensure it has the swankiest and most color-coordinated decorations in town, including the miniature stable installed in the main courtyard for its nativity scene. And Christmas trees (albeit fake ones - Mom, you would be so pleased) and garlands are sold on every corner. With a week to go, Cajabamba is in the full swing of Christmas.

Cajamarca girls

Huge props to four of my fellow "Cajamarca girls" from PC's health program who put together this awesome music video to the tune of Katy Perry's "California Gurls:"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=58qI-IEKqes&feature=share

Teaching the silly cow

For the past eight weeks or so, I've been teaching a series of orientación vocacional (vocational education) classes to high school seniors in two of Cajabamba's public schools. We've talked about goal setting, making a savings plans, writing a resume, preparing for a job interview, being a leader, and other job- and future-related topics. Even though this teaching project has required me getting up extremely early every Wednesday (schools start at 7am here!), it's always fun to work with young people and feel like I'm meeting a significant need in the community. Schools here typically offer a world-of-work-related class, but it is purely focused on a practical skill, such as computation or sewing. Thus the type of orientación vocacional that I teach fills what I view as an important gap in the kids' education.

Since the students are getting into end-of-year exams and Christmas festivities, this week was my last week of teaching for the semester. The theme of the day was entrepreneurship, and the lesson plan included one of my favorite dinámicas: la vaca tonta (the silly cow). It's an activity that forces the students to be creative, with each of them inventing three ideas for potential businesses that have to do with cows. Since the Peruvian school system emphasizes rote memorization and regurgitation rather than creative or independent thinking, it usually takes a lot of explaining and a little convincing the kids that it's OK to be silly. Once they get into it though, they really enjoy it, and reading all the "business" ideas out loud afterward always results in fits of giggles. We had a discoteca for cows, a cow beauty salon, a restaurant where the waiters were all cows, etc. etc.

And of course, at the end of each class, we took the requisite end-of-year photos. Here's one of my three classes at the all-girls school:

And here's me with one of my teacher socias, in which I look like a giant compared to this tiny Peruvian lady:

Schools are going into summer vacation now, and start back up again in March. My hope/plan is to continue working with seniors next year, with a start-your-own-business class first semester, and more orientación vocacional second semester. Until then, sitemate Jessica and I are planning a series of summer school classes - assuming the municipality man in charge of education ever answers his phone so we can ask him for funding :)

Christmas cards

My awesome World Wide Schools program pen pals in Florida sent me about a million Christmas cards in the mail this week, and their beautiful artwork is now hanging all around my room - pretty sweet holiday decorations. While my cousins' two cards of course received the place of honor next to my bed, I was also pretty impressed with the creative drawing on this card: a South America-shaped Santa Claus :)

White elephant

To bring a little Christmas spirit to Cajamarca, I organized a white elephant gift exchange between all the volunteers in our region. White elephant is an annual tradition with friends at home, and I wanted to bring that tradition with me to Peru. So when we gathered for our December regional meeting this weekend, each volunteer brought along a white elephant gift, and we had some fun exchanging (and stealing) all the treats.

The group getting ready to start the exchange

Zach reacts with joy to find out what's in the big red bag

Amanda gets excited about Sublimes

I open a box and find a hamster inside, everyone runs to see

Jessica steals said hamster (thankfully), names him Johnny, and later buys him a home and adds him to her collection of Peruvian pets

Chris receives an awesome hand-knit hat

Lindsey models her new "feliz navidad" santa hat

And at the end of the day, the Cajamarca crew goes home with new Christmas treasures

Science

Have you ever wondered how long it takes a toenail to grow from top to bottom? I had, so when I started Peace Corps I embarked on a very serious and scientific experiment: measure the time it takes for my big toenail to grow one full length. The methodology was simple: instead of removing the nail polish painted onto my toes at the beginning of June, just let it be. When the last bit of red paint reaches the top of the toenail, check the calendar. 

Well, as you can see from the following picture, that time has pretty much arrived. So you can rest easy tonight, because now you know that it takes a bit over six months for a toenail to grow from top to bottom. You're welcome.

Six

Today marks six months in Peru - time is crazy. Six months ago I got on a plane, not entirely sure what I was getting myself into, but certain that I wanted to find out. Even with so many months already behind me, I'm still figuring out my role in my community, and discovering what being a Peace Corps volunteer means for me. But I'm enjoying the ride, including all its ups and downs, and I never regret getting on that plane.

The fact that each volunteer signs on for a set two years of service puts a funny sort of time stamp on our lives and work here. There are always milestones to mark, whether it be counting up how many months you've been at site, or counting down how many months you have left in country. To always have these frameworks of time in mind is a bit odd - in what other job do you, from day one, count down how much time you have left? - but it can also be a good and motivational force that keeps you going through tough times or inspires you to make the most of what (relatively) little time you have in your community. Six months is no small span, so today we 19ers take a moment to reflect, appreciate how far we've come, and raise a toast to all the adventures that remain.