World map #2

Is complete! Handprints and all :)

Campaign signs

Later in 2014, local and regional elections will take place in Cajabamba and Cajamarca. Consequently, the candidates have been busy painting the town (literally) with their names and slogans for the upcoming elections. In a country made up almost entirely by rural terrain, where farmers might own a radio - if any communication mode at all - this is a prime way to rustle up the votes. The majority of farmers will never travel very far from their home community, so it only makes sense that the candidates would find a way to bring their names even to the farthest regions of Peru. Voter outreach is all the more important here because everyone is required by law to vote - if you know that even the most far-flung peasant's vote is going to somebody, you make a bit more effort to try and swing them to your side. The result: the entire front sides of houses being transformed into political murals. From the similarity in designs across geographical space, I know it's not the inhabitants themselves doing the painting. What I'm still not sure about is whether the campaign staff's paint gangs pay these house-owners for the privilege, or whether people tend to agree gratis just to add some color to their adobe. Regardless, as you can see from the below photos*, there's no U.S.-style cardboard yard signs to be found around here - just wall signs ten times as big!

The green flag and red letters of the MAS party

The signature orange and black of Keiko Fujimori's party

* Side note: these houses are not here in Cajabamba (although similar murals do exist on the edges of town); they're about two hours' walk into the hills of the campo, located along side-roads and footpaths.

Say yes to that dress

On Saturday, one of my host mom's goddaughters was baptized. Leidy (pictured above) recently turned four, so her parents decided it was high time to make her an official member of the Catholic church. As godmother, my host mom was responsible for funding the dress and celebratory lunch, and for participating in the baptism ceremony with the parents. As you can see from the photo, Lourdes found an A+ dress, turning shy little Leidy into our reina (queen) for the night.

Menú

Menú is a false cognate in Spanish; it does not mean "menu." In any Latin American restaurant, you'd need to ask for la carta to get your standard a-la-carte menu. However, here in Peru, restaurants have adopted a special meaning for the word menú: a fixed-price lunch offering that includes an appetizer, main course, and drink. Each day any lunch-serving restaurant will post its signboard out front, advertising what dishes the menú of the day will include.

There are always one or two options of appetizer - one of which is always a soup - and then somewhere between two and six options for the main dish (general components being meat, rice, and potatoes). You do not have a choice of beverage, but rather will receive a glass of whatever "juice" (sugar-rich water with a bit of flavoring) the restaurant has prepared that day. The price? An average of five soles (less than $2) - you can't beat that bargain!

Olympic games

I'm a big fan of the Olympics. Unfortunately, for the past three sets of games, I've found myself in a foreign country where people pay little to no attention to them: Jordan in 2010, and Peru in 2012 and 2014. So naturally, when one of my sitemates proposed holding our own olympic games as part of world map class, I jumped at the chance to get into the olympic spirit. Since the continent of the week was Europe, each of the four teams of students had to choose a European country to represent. They ended up with Spain, France, Portugal, and Greece. In our Peruvian games, there were four events, none of which could be characterized as a "winter" game (sorry, Sochi): relay race, water balloon toss, soccer tournament, and one-footed chain race.

Soccer: Greece vs. Portugal, with Linnea refereeing

One-footed chain race: I somehow captured the teams' most successful instant on film - they were usually falling all over the place and having to start over

Our final olympic event was the medal ceremony, complete with prizes, podium, and olympic hymn (overall points only, not on a per-event basis). In another slight variation from official policy, we had not only gold, silver, and bronze, but also blue ribbons of participation for the 4th-place team. At the end of the day, Spain went home with gold medals, followed by Portugal, France, and a last-place Greece. But all teams were quite pleased with the fun and candy treats enjoyed by all :)

Awarding silver medals to Portugal

The final four-tiered "podium," plus we three PCVs

Painting the town

Big changes in Cajabamba this week: the municipality decided to paint the buildings in the plaza a new color! All the buildings surrounding the main square were previously a cheerful shade of country yellow, but as of Monday they're now light grey. Not exactly an upgrade in my opinion (yellow is fun!), but at least the change gives everybody something to talk about besides the rain.

The new grey-walled plaza

Pics of the week

Taught the kiddos how to play kickball - although 18 runs were scored in the first inning while everybody figured things out, after that it was a great success!

Theater class skits:

Confronting a neighbor about a stolen pet turkey

Balancing on a boat caught in a storm at sea

Learning about Egypt in world map class - naturally we made our own mummies:

Sayuri and Flor

Alejandro and Rodrigo

Result: 12 mummies at various levels of wrapping success

The power of cat-calls

"Why would cat-calls be an example of machismo?"

I was asked this question last week by a 14 year-old boy - one of our high school students - during a session on gender equity/anti-machismo. He wasn't being facetious, and he wasn't trying to cause trouble; he was serious. He claimed that some of his female friends had said they enjoyed receiving cat-calls, that they saw them as compliments - "why is it machismo for men to compliment women?" This true lack of understanding is why Peru's machismo culture remains so strong. Boys learn from their fathers, uncles, brothers, and occasionally even female relatives, that whistling is the right thing to do when a young woman walks by. They have never considered the inherently unequal power dynamic of a cat-call: the whistler has all the power, and the recipient has none. The woman walking by is never asked whether she would appreciate a lascivious comment; the man simply decides that he would like to taunt her with one - she has no choice. Those women who do not feel this is full-on sexual harassment are either hungry for the wrong kind of attention, or have developed a semi-positive "complimentary" view of the cat-calls as a psychological shield to help them cope with the daily accosting they've received in the street their entire lives. A respectful society should not endorse either, and moreover should consider the feelings of the female majority who abhor such public harassment. Unfortunately so far this is not the reality, and the cat-calls and myriad other forms of machismo remain the daily norm.

Personally, 20 months later, I'm still not used to it: the blatant stares, the lecherous looks, the greed-filled disrespecting eyes, the low whistles or sexual comments as I walk down my street or leave my school. It grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard every single time; my teeth grit together, my brow furrows, my shoulders tense, and I feel simultaneously furious, humiliated, powerless, threatened, and sad. Sometimes, when the right combination of insult and attitude is hit, I confront the taunters, turning around or crossing the street to tell them in no uncertain terms that their comments are disrespectful and unappreciated. The more public the spectacle the better - they should turn red, feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed in front of their companions. Maybe then they'll know a bit of what the women they whistle at experience every single day.

USSR/A

Today one of my high school students asked me to clarify what "USA" stands for. In Spanish, they abbreviate it EEUU (Estados Unidos - two of each letter since both words are plural), so it wasn't a completely ridiculous question. But then, before I could answer, she gave me her best guess: "Unión Soviética de América?" (Soviet Union of America) In my surprise I simply gaped at her for a couple seconds, before explaining that no, the Soviet Union is in no way related to the USA.

Now you see why we continue to teach world map class in Cajabamba...