Name games

99% of Peruvians have four names: two nombres (first/middle names), and two apellidos (last names). The first last name is the family name of that person's father, and the second last name is their mother's family name. So, when I have to fill out a form or spell out my name for a Peruvian, they think it is extremely strange that I only have one last name. I, for one, am rather glad of that fact, since Flaherty Madzinski would be a bit of a mouthful.

Anyway, I've been getting more familiar with Peruvian names and spellings this week, since I was in charge of writing out the certificates of completion for our summer school kids. The same last names tend to crop up over and over again, and if you ask, those kids will tell you that "yep, that's my cousin!" However, "cousin" is a much more all-encompassing term here - pretty much anyone who shares one of your same last names will be referred to as your "cousin" (or aunt/uncle, if they're older). What we in the States call "cousins," Peruvians would call "primo-hermano" (literally cousin-brother).

Another naming trend I've noticed here is that many Peruvians like to give their children American names, even if they sound totally foreign when pronounced by Spanish-speakers, and even if they have to totally change the spelling to match the way the name is pronounced here. Here are some examples:

• Lady - except they spell it Leidy or Leydi
• Jefferson - pronounced Yefferson, nicknamed Yeffer for short
• James - pronounced HA-mays
• Wallace - spelled Wallys
• Rosemary - spelled Rosmery
• Anthony - spelled Andhoni

And, saving the best for last:

• Richard Nixon (yes, those are his two first names, and yes, this child really does exist)

You see why we had to check with each kid on exact name spelling before printing those certificates...

Eiffel towers

As our world map journey continues, this week brought a "visit" to France. While the group was a little put off by the thought of eating frog legs or escargot, boys and girls alike were eager to become the next Gustave Eiffel, albeit on a slightly smaller scale...

Shifting norms

My blog posts haven't been as frequent as of late. This is partly due to a good amount of travel taking me out of site, and partly due to the fact that January and February are pretty quiet months where work basically consists of hanging out with the kids in my summer camp classes. But I think there's also a third factor at work here: life in Peru seems more and more normal with every passing day.

When I first arrived here back in June, every day was full of new experiences and strange customs, so I had more blog material than I knew what to do with. Now, those things that initially seemed so strange have become commonplace. While I am still conscious that the Peruvian version of normal is very different than normal in U.S. life, I've grown used to the differences, and things that used to raise an eyebrow are no longer anything to look twice at.

What now most reminds me of the relative "strangeness" of my current lifestyle (compared to American norms) are my conversations with friends and family back home. I will off-handedly mention that you can't drink the tap water in Peru, and I'll be met with puzzled silence and a "wait, so what do you drink?" Boiling water and letting it cool in my clean water bucket every day has become such a habit that I forget that this standard Peruvian practice is so unheard of in the States. As my dad prepares for his big Peru trip in July, he's starting to really think about these things: "so, to clarify, if I'm taking a shower, I should not drink the shower water? Hmmm (frowning), I'll have to work on that."

It is nice to have the perspective of those at home to remind me that my new "normal" is nothing like the "normal" I knew nine months ago. With almost 3/4 of a year in Peru, and six months in Cajabamba, I've settled in here, and time just keeps flying by.

Summer camp progress

The world map project is coming along! With two weeks left of summer camp classes, things are progressing quite nicely, and Jess and me continue to have fun helping the niños learn about geography and cultures that they otherwise wouldn't be exposed to. I get a kick out of every map class I teach, because the kids are so into it! They giggle about the fact that male and female Kenyan marathon runners look pretty much alike, they gasp over the size of the pyramids or the sound of water rushing over Iguazu falls, they have fun teaching me how to say rhinoceros in Spanish, and they always get sad when the slideshow of travel pictures for that week is over. Here's some photos from week five:

Painters at work

Africa week: talking about Egypt and learning some Arabic :)

Drawing country maps and facts into their "passports"

Besides world map, another fun class we have going is a "professional hour" for high schoolers. Every week, Jess and me find a different professional in Cajabamba to come talk to the kids about their work and do some relevant activity with them. This week was one of the best yet, since we got to visit a Professor/Dairy Products Engineer out at CEFOP (a technical college). Rocío is the lady in charge of teaching the CEFOP students how to care for the school's resident cows, and how to make yogurt, dulce de leche, butter, and cheese from the fresh milk. For our class, she gave a quick presentation on what her job involved, told them a little about studying at a technical college, and then took them to visit the dairy lab and the stables. It was a very hands-on, science-y day, and the kids were transfixed by all the cool equipment and by getting to visit the cows.

Checking out some cheese molds and lab tools

Making friends with the cows

John taking a spin on the tractor

Reflections from a volunteer

This link has been passed around among the Peru volunteers recently, and I thought I'd share it here: http://thesharpiemarkerapproach.tumblr.com/post/42420977797/an-open-letter

Written by a volunteer in Cambodia, the essay shares some of the big themes common to many PCVs' service. While I don't identify with everything she writes (every volunteer's service is different!), the majority rings true, and it's an interesting window into the ways the Peace Corps experience can impact you.

Paint day

Last weekend was the culmination of the last two months' carnavales celebrations, with the biggest party in all Peru taking place in my regional capital of Cajamarca. The event brought 60+ Peace Corps volunteers from around the country up to the mountains to take part in the festivities, so we had a fun-filled weekend with all the visitors. The nights were spent in the plaza, which was packed to the gills with Peruvians gathered in small circles of friends and neighbors. Each circle had its own drum, its own drinks, and its own singing and dancing going on. Since everybody likes a gringo, we had no problem joining in the fun, dancing huayno until the wee hours of the morning.

Crowds of revelers in the plaza

Beautiful painted masks decorated the buildings around the plaza

The weekend's biggest event, however, was Saturday's paint day, where the whole city roams the streets squirting/dumping/throwing/smearing paint on anyone and everyone. So on Friday, we prepared ourselves for battle by purchasing squirt guns, buckets, and paint. Brad and me spent some time sharpening our aim by squirting water down at passersby from the hostel balcony - throwing water is fair game on any day of carnaval, not just paint Saturday.

Then the big day finally arrived. After donning our paint gear (a.k.a. clothes I will never wear again), we grabbed our ammo and headed into the mayhem. I ended up with a group of mostly cajamarquino PC volunteers, and we walked a big loop around the city in the thick of the paint crowds - it was pure craziness! Within ten minutes I was completely covered in thirty different colors of paint, and had squirted so many people that I had to reload my paint gun. It was possibly the most fun day I have had in Peru so far, and I already can't wait for next year. Unfortunately I took zero pictures during the paint fight, since I didn't quite fancy owning a nonfunctional paint-covered camera at the end of the day, but here's one another volunteer took, and a few of the aftermath:

City-wide paint fight (photo credit: Tina)

Jackie and me at the end of the day

Paint everywhere!

The streets and buildings were all covered with paint splatter

GEWE

Yet another week gone by, and yet another set of adventures to share. This past week took me back to Lima for my first meeting of the Gender Equality and Women's Empowerment (GEWE) committee. GEWE is a worldwide Peace Corps initiative aimed at making both the organization itself, and the work that volunteers do, gender-equitable. Since this was our first meeting since myself and KG, the other new committee member, joined the group, the first order of business was to get to know everybody and take some photos. From left to right there's Brittany, Richard, me, Hayden, KG, staff liaison Kathrin, and Dan:

The committee's volunteers come from different regions and different programs within PC Peru, so as to bring a variety of perspectives to the issue of women's empowerment. Our main activities as a committee include:

• Providing resources to volunteers looking to do projects related to women's empowerment and gender equity
• Training staff and new volunteers on gender equity-related topics
• Producing the annual "Peruanas Poderosas" (Powerful Peruvian Women) calendars, which highlight women who are leaders in their communities, and organizing the accompanying regional conferences and workshops on women's issues

With the 2013 calendars newly hanging on our walls, we're starting to plan the 2014 version, as well as our annual training session for staff and the new Peru 21 volunteers who'll arrive in June. I'm excited to be part of this committee, as it lets me be more involved in promoting women's empowerment during my time as a volunteer. And of course the trips to Lima for meetings are an added perk :) 

Since it's the height of summer on the Peruvian coast right now, it was a beautiful time to be in Lima. I got in a couple wonderful runs along the coast, some Starbucks and Pinkberry, and, in GEWE committee tradition, a pedicure - we were definitely living the "posh Corps" lifestyle. It was also nice to be able to spend some time visiting with the Lima staff. Suni, one of our awesome PC doctors, was so pleased that she, KG and I all happened to wear pink one day that she made us take a picture:

The final highlight of the Lima trip was a visit to Burrito Bar for dinner our last night. I'd been hearing about this gem of a restaurant for months as the only place in Peru to get a legitimate, Chipotle-style burrito, so I was extremely excited to finally get to go, and my expectations of deliciousness were not disappointed. Plus, the restaurant sells beers from Peru's only real brewery (located far away in the mountains of Huaraz), so it was a first-burrito-and-first-good-beer-in-eight-months type of night - a very big deal.

I'm good?

When someone asks me, "how are you?" the large majority of the time I respond: "good," or "fine." It's almost automatic - even on days where I am closer to "really struggling with yet another stomach bug," the word "fine" will still jump out of my mouth, and once my brain kicks in I'll end up qualifying that initial response with "well, actually not so good today."

Translating my typical response in English, when a Peruvian asks me, "cómo estás?" I always say "bien!" I've recently noticed that Peruvians probably think I'm really weird for doing this: I have never heard a single Peruvian say "bien" when I ask them this question. Instead, the almost universal response here is "acá, más o menos." The literal translation of this reply is "here, more or less," and it's used to express a sentiment along the lines of "you know, I'm here, just living my life, some things are good, some things are bad."

I am now a little self-conscious about my "bien"s, (even though I am in truth usually doing pretty good), and try to remember to use the Peruvian response instead. But I think it's an interesting cultural difference: in the success-oriented American tradition, we are more prone to keep our problems under wraps and put on a brave face - problems are things to be dealt with, and we are always "fine." In contrast, a rural Peruvian town is much more of a communal culture: problems are not only accepted in the societal mindset as the normal business of life, but they are shared and commiserated over together. That's why you won't here them claiming that they're "bien" - they know everybody's got problems, so why try and hide it?