The other Otuzco

The first Peruvian town of Otuzco that I visited was in the region of La Libertad, where we went for our field-based training in July. But upon arrival in Cajamarca, I began to hear talk of a second Otuzco. This otherwise unremarkable community on the outskirts of Cajamarca city is home to the archaeological site of Ventanillas de Otuzco, which means "little windows of Otuzco." With almost five months at site under our belts, Chris and I decided it was time to go see what this other Otuzco was all about. 

About a 15-minute combi ride outside the city, in the middle of beautiful green countryside, we found a hill with a large rock face in which the ancient Cajamarca people dug tombs to bury their dead. So far 337 of these small square holes in the wall have been discovered at the ventanillas, guarded today only by the many tuna (cactus) plants that cover the hillside.

Volunteer Christmas

While I spent Christmas in site with my host family, soon afterwards it was time to head to Cajamarca to celebrate with my other Peace Corps family: the Cajamarca volunteers. We took advantage of Chris' mini-apartment to cook a Christmas feast together, complete with homemade eggnog and Christmas cookies.

Brad mixes up the eggnog

Nick, Amanda and Jackie in the festive Christmas spirit

Dinner time

Christmas-cookie-ice-cream sandwiches for dessert

Site visit

Back in November, my program director (a.k.a. my boss) Alfredo came to Cajabamba for his annual site visit. We ate some lunch, met some socios, and had tea with my host family. We also sat down with the mayor to reaffirm the partnership between Peace Corps and Cajabamba's municipality. Here's the requisite group pic: Alfredo, me, Cajabamba's mayor, Veronica and Ursula from PC Admin, and José, PC's Cajamarca regional coordinator.

Feliz Navidad

Merry Christmas from Peru! This is the first Christmas I've spent away from home, and while being far from family and friends is hard, it's been fun to experience Peru's holiday traditions and spend time with my host family. Peruvians typically celebrate on Christmas Eve, cooking all day the 24th, going to late-night mass, then coming home to eat a midnight turkey dinner and open presents.

Family dinner: Javi (dad), me, Tana (sister), Lalo (brother), Lourdes (mom), and Rosemary (amiga)

Carving the turkey

Opening presents in the wee hours of Christmas morning

Lourdes was a big fan of the Seattle chocolates :)

It's also amazing to realize how, beneath the superficial differences, Christmas celebrations in different corners of the world are really the same at heart. Peruvians open presents at midnight on Christmas Eve, while Americans wait until Christmas morning, but in both countries kids eagerly await the appointed hour, and family members all buy presents for each other. Both cultures put up trees, although Peruvians' are 99% fake, while most Americans bring in a real evergreen (ahem, Mom). My family's tradition of prime rib and twice-baked potatoes for Christmas dinner is pretty much the same meat-and-spuds concept as Peruvians' meal of turkey and boiled potatoes - the important thing is that it's a shared celebration with loved ones. We drink eggnog, Peruvians drink hot chocolate; we eat red- and green-colored cookies and candies, Peruvians eat panetón - it's the same season of sweets. Going to Christmas Eve mass with half the town of Cajabamba didn't have the same homey feel as hearing Paul speak and seeing family friends at MIPC, or as taking up a whole row with the Madzinski clan at my Grandparents' church, but the idea of celebrating Jesus' birth is the same in Spanish or English. Peruvians aren't as big on Christmas carols, but I've heard translated versions of at least "Joy to the World," "Deck the Halls" and "Silent Night" playing on shop speakers in town - I sing along in English. And obviously the song "Feliz Navidad" applies in both contexts :)

El nacimiento

This is the taller-than-me nativity scene that is currently occupying 1/4 of our dining room:

Not only does it include the typical Mary, Jesus, and Joseph in a stable scene, but it also holds a duck pond, a sheep pasture, a hillside town, real live plants, posters depicting the night sky and star of Bethlehem, and twinkling lights that we turn on while we're eating dinner. Before you start thinking my host family is crazy-dedicated to their Christmas decorations, let me tell you: this is 100% standard. Peruvians are very serious about their nativity scenes.

Looking ahead (or trying to)

A couple days ago, I decided it was time to purchase a new planner for 2013, seeing as my current planner only has about ten more days of life left in its worn-out pages. So, I set off, on a mission to the librerías (office supply shops) of Cajabamba. Eight librerías later, no planner. Apparently December 20th is waaaay too early to be planning for next year, according to rural Peruvian concepts of time.

Unfortunately, I am not yet fully brainwave-converted to rural Peruvian time. So, to accommodate both Cajabamba's lack of available planners and my own extreme need to write down my future activities, I have converted the empty page at the end of 2012's agenda into a running list of things I wish I could be writing in my as-yet nonexistent 2013 planner. An interesting cultural difference, coming from a country where it's not uncommon to buy next year's calendar as early as October.

Mail from 1600 Pennsylvania

What happens when you volunteer two years of your life to serve as part of a government agency? The Obamas send you a Christmas card :)

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.

Peace Corps stats

This month a significant chunk of my time is being dedicated to writing my Community Diagnostic, a lengthy document that summarizes the information I've gathered about Cajabamba's economic development situation in the last three months. Eventually I will present the report to both Peace Corps staff and important members of my community, while also using my findings to help formulate a work plan for the coming year - it's kind of a big deal.

Anyway, writing the introduction this afternoon had me surfing the web in search of info about Peace Corps as a whole, and I thought I'd share some fun facts.

• Current number of volunteers worldwide: 8,073. About 230 of us are here in Peru.
• Current number of countries served: 76.
• 21% of volunteers are serving in Latin American countries.
• Only 12% of us work in the community economic development program.
• 62% of us are female, and 93% of us are single (i.e. not married).
• The average age of volunteers is 28 - guess I joined a little early.

Do-overs

I've come to realize that scarf-making is an excellent metaphor for work as a Peace Corps volunteer.

When you are new to the art of scarf crocheting, as I am, you are liable to make a few rookie mistakes. For example, you might buy only one skein of yarn, thinking that will be plenty for a scarf. Then, when your yarn is about to run out and your "scarf" is about as long as a nice quilt square, you'll be left to progressively work yourself into a mild panic as your search through every yarn store in town yields no matching wool. Finally the Sunday market yarn lady will miraculously produce the last two remaining skeins of deep purple yarn, saving you from having to totally scrap your scarf project - things in Peru have a way of working themselves out somehow. As a newbie crocheter, and as a new-to-site volunteer, you spend a while stumbling around, giving things your best guess, and hoping for the best. Even though odds are that you don't really get how things work on the first try, the Peruvians put up with you, and try to help you out. And you make it through.

Then you go about your business, crocheting along row by row on this awesome purple scarf project that you're super enthused about, and life is good. Peace Corps projects tend to start out this way, too: so full of potential that you can't help but be excited about all the good you can do. But then, midway through the first skein of yarn, you hold up the scarf-in-progress to admire your handiwork, and you notice that the scarf has somehow been progressively growing in width. A quick stitch count confirms: you've been adding an extra loop to each row. Since triangle-shaped neckwarmer was not the look you were going for, you proceed to un-do all but the first four rows. This is one of those mistakes you can laugh about; just brush it off and move on. Re-doing ten rows won't kill you. Like realizing post-facto that the handout you gave all your students today has half-a-dozen Spanish typos, or watching helplessly as your socio gives everyone at the meeting a highly inaccurate description of Peace Corps' economic development program - you've just got to appreciate the humor of things, and roll with what you've got.

Eventually, one of the tougher problems catches up with you. That nagging feeling you've had since row five that your scarf is just a little bit too wide to be normal? Thirty rows deep, you can now decidedly state that no, a scarf this wide just isn't going to work. This is a bummer, as you've invested a solid number of hours and now have to face the reality of a complete do-over. But, since you know in your heart there's no other option, you sigh, take a deep breath, and proceed to pull apart the entire scarf. Back to square one, you re-roll the messy pile of yarn into a neat ball, and start again. Projects in Peace Corps often don't go as planned. Whether the municipality backs out on funding, or participants say they don't have time to come to your meeting, or a teacher strike shuts down classes for a month, things happen. And even though it sucks the wind right out of your sails, you pick up the pieces, ask yourself what you can learn from this small fiasco, and start again.

But you're wiser now. You make the scarf ten stitches less wide, and you know from experience that this will be the perfect width. You've already stockpiled your yarn, and to boot you now personally know all the nice ladies in town who sell wool. You know where you went wrong, and you won't be making that mistake twice. And most importantly, you aren't going to quit. That scarf is going to get made, no matter how many times you have to start over.

You know you're in Peace Corps when...

... you get invited to watch a cow give birth. Last week, my veterinarian friend Edwin called with a very special invitation: "Meghan, there is a cow that is going to give birth soon, and you are invited to come watch. Charge your camera and keep your phone on, because I'm going to call you when it's happening." Watching a cow be born wasn't exactly on my bucket list, but I figured, when else in my life am I going to have a chance to see this? It could be a little gory, but would definitely be pretty cool. So I told Edwin I'd be ready.

Thus, on Wednesday night when I got word that the vaca was going to give birth in the next half-hour, sitemate Jessica and I hustled out to the campo to witness the big event. Unfortunately the half-hour estimate turned into two hours, then eight hours. That's when Jess and I called it a night, figuring we'd wait for another cow birthing that wasn't at 4:00 in the morning. But, fate intervened, and when I headed back out to CEFOP the next morning for my usual Thursday class, it turned out the vaca still hadn't given birth. To boot, veterinarians Edwin and Elí had decided that the time had come to perform a c-section on the mama cow. Thus not only did I get to watch a cow be born, but I had a front-row seat to an open-air medical operation - only in Peru :) It turned out to be a fascinating morning, ending with the triumphant entrance into the world of a new calf. Here's some photos from throughout the event:

Shaving the incision area

IV fluids - Martha the cow is not quite pleased

Anesthesia shots

Some intrigued local spectators

The two amigos, ready in their scrubs

First incision

Pulling the uterus out

The calf is born!

An adorable baby boy

The upside of rainy season

Sometimes rainy season has its perks, like when perfect double rainbows appear over Cajabamba:

Chan Chan

On our way back from the beach, we decided to make a pit-stop to see the pre-Columbian ruins of Chan Chan, which are located right along the highway between regional capital Trujillo and the beach at Huanchaco. We weren't really sure what we'd find, and when the bus dropped us off on the side of the highway in the middle of the desert we knew we were in for an adventure. Luckily the access road was clearly marked, so we set off on a 20ish minute trek beneath the blazing sun.

Arriving at the main ruins site, we were impressed to find a very extensive and well-preserved city of clay, including plazas, buildings, fortifying walls, carvings, tombs, maze-like walkways, and even a central oasis. Chan Chan used to be the capital of the Chimu people, who were later conquered by the Incas, and it seemed like this society had spared no expense on the city's construction (cerca 1300AD).

From snooping on a passing tour group, we later learned that Chan Chan was once the largest adobe city in the world - quite an accomplishment for a city built on sand!

A Thanksgiving miracle

Thanksgiving at the beach was awesome: good friends, delicious food, nonstop sunshine, and relaxing vacation time. Our turkey day feast was nothing short of a miracle. Steve, Chris, Jackie and I prepared the following scrumptious dishes: turkey, sautéed veggies, gravy, macaroni and cheese, mashed garlic/cheese potatoes, sweet potatoes with brown sugar, green beans, salad, bread rolls with butter, no-bake cookies, and of course some vino.

And we did all this with NO oven, only TWO working gas burners (see photo below), and for the cost of less than $14 per person. Like I said: a Thanksgiving miracle.

Friday morning we made sure to take advantage of an often under-appreciated Thanksgiving tradition: the morning-after leftovers brunch. Fellow 19er Tyler arrived in Huanchaco in time to help us cook up all the remainders, and we had scrambled eggs, mashed potato pancakes, and sweet potato hashbrowns - yum!

When we weren't busy consuming our copious amounts of Thanksgiving food, we relaxed on Huanchaco's sunny beach, made friends with the hostel's two oversize pet tortoises, who we named Crush and Louisa, and watched the sunset from the hammocks on the deck.

Once the turkey leftovers ran out, it was time to venture out for the Peruvian coastal staple: fresh-as-can-be ceviche on the beach-e.

At night we amused ourselves with music, cards, catch phrase, and Huanchaco's nightlife. We were a bit of a spectacle the night we brought catch phrase out to a bar with us, but everyone stares at the Americans whether or not we're shouting over a competitive beeping hot-potato-esque game, so we figured why not? :)