What Difference Can A Year Make?

anDUH!

2007-07-12T13:22:00.000-07:00

Today as my English students were working on their pronunciations between and and Aunt, I told them to practice saying duh – duh – duh – anDUH. I wrote it on the board and Conrado asked me what it meant. I responded by hitting my forehead with my and exclaiming “duh… pues!” After repeating duh – duh – duh – anDUH several times, I can clearly hear the distinction between their ending d’s and t’s. I suppose I hit my head a little too hard though because now I have a headache.

As I begin to pack my things, I will be reflecting on this past year:

What has changed within me?

What will I bring with me and what will I leave behind – emotionally and literally?

How will anyone be able to understand the life and people here, without experiencing them, living among them?

Will my presentations meet the expectations of the audience: my church, family, friends?

Will I meet their expectations?

How will I continue to use my Spanish learned, so I won’t forget it?

How will my days go without all the kisses on the cheek?

What does a meal look like without rice with it?

What is the next step for me, my next journey?

It seems I am ending this experience with just as many, if not more, questions as I started with. During lunch today we were talking about where Jenny’s stolen cell phone could be now. She asked “¿Quien sabes?” who knows. I answered, “Dios, y nadie mas.” God, and nobody else. “Si,” she answered. “Hay cosas que solo El sabe.” Yes, there are things that only God knows. I felt at that moment, that this is the answer to all the questions I listed above, and so many more. So as I enter into this time of change, I’m not worried. I’m looking forward to it. I look forward to talking with you, and sharing this experience in person. I look forward to the conversations we will have about fair trade, human rights, environmental advocacy, immigration, and culture. I look forward to finding my way to the next path that, for now, only God knows.

Thank you for your support throughout this year, and I’ll see you soon!

I added my latest pictures to this facebook album:
http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015395&l=6b6cf&id=24100417

dia 299

2007-06-21T09:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I watched a truck filled with 50 kgs bags of rice pass by, and I thought to myself... I probably eat about that much rice in one month (maybe 2)...

I felt a sense of pride stir on Sunday that I didn’t realize I had. I was at church and the new pastor made a reference to the way families in Europe raise their children, and said perhaps the hermana (in the protestant churches we refer to each other as brother and sister) can explain. Eli, turned to me with a knowing smile and I mouthed back: No soy europea - I’m not European. He noticed and after the service he spoke with me for the first time, besides the standard greetings and farewells. I told him I was from the States and he then asked me if I understood what he was saying. I told him that I understood his words, but they are completely different cultures. I wondered if he had ever been to Europe, or if he was just generalizing.

I prepared a Bible study for my church on Matthew 25 (what you do to the least of me…) to be part of a meeting and was disappointed when no one showed up. I was complaining to a volunteer friend about this when he said to me, “well, maybe the bible study wasn’t really for them, and was meant just for you.” I’ve thought about that comment, a lot. What was I supposed to get out of it? It talks about the excluded people. Was I excluding people? Was I being excluded? Sometimes it feels that way… but that’s not it, that wasn’t the message meant for me from the study. Upon reflection I realized, it was my attitude towards the beggars that needed to be changed. I can’t say that I’ve become accustom to the beggars, but they have become regular, routine. When I lived in New York City, I saw many beggars, almost every other corner had an old man or woman in rags sticking out their hand or shaking their cup at me. I usually walked by, I was an unpaid intern living in an expensive city. But here, it’s different. Its not just the old crumpled up old man on the corner, it is a young mother, a father, a child offering you candies to buy for 10 centimos or singing you a song on the bus. Sure, I would give to the first one that asked me in a day, but never the next one. I would feel, well that’s my obligation for today. Now, however, I see that attitude was wrong. If I have change in my pocket, I will buy candies from the next one and the 3rd, until I don’t have anymore centimos in my pocket.

I have been here for 299 days and I’ve found it difficult to write about my experience lately. I suppose that’s because things have become routine for me. That’s a good thing about the YAV program - a year gives you enough time to really get into the swing of things. I have about a month left and it feels so short, but then I realize some volunteer opportunities are only about a month and a half total! The reason I know today is day 299 is because I counted on Sunday. I had been feeling stuck in routine, not looking for the new opportunities each day can bring. I’ve made a commitment to myself to try to take things a day at a time. I intend to aprovechar(take advantage of) the next 44 days.

See my latest facebook pictures: http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2015395&l=6b6cf&id=24100417

Morning Routine

2007-05-25T13:28:00.000-07:00

After being out of routine for 2 weeks, Monday I rode the bus to work in the morning thinking, yup back to normal. I realize however, that this may not be a normal experience and perhaps I should describe it to you all. I walk 4 blocks to the Metro de la Uni and wait there to spot a bus going to Brazil. I won’t take just any bus that says ‘Brazil’ on the side anymore. I’ve learned the quicker routes; some busses make a long way around and turn a lot, others are more direct. When I spot one, I wave it down. Sometimes when they are too full or don’t see me they pass by me without stopping. When one stops I squeeze quickly into it. I live off of a main road that heads into the central part of town. Usually, by the time the busses get to me there are quite a few people already riding it. People are dressed in a range of attire - from jeans to suits, to babies being carried in mantas and nursed when they start crying, women in uniforms and low cut tops and sweatpants, men in sport clothes or nice clothes carrying agendas and briefcases - So I squish myself into any remaining room and grab a hold of the bar on the ceiling. I try to have access to my pockets when the cobrador asks for my pasaje. I tell him I am going to Brazil, and about 20% of the time they don’t understand me and I get frustrated repeating myself thinking, come on its written on the side of your bus, but half the time I think they didn’t hear me or are simply making fun of my accent. When people need to get off of the bus they squish past, yelling baja at the cobrador and driver, freeing up a little wiggle room. Maria Arroyo told me that she used to carry pins in her pockets to avenge anyone standing too close to her back side. I haven’t come to this yet, and re-adjust as necessary. We drive past the fruit market, with many people buying, selling, digging through yesterdays leftovers and the smell is horrific. On good days we aren’t there very long, but during morning traffic this area tends to get stopped up. By the time we hit Plaza Bolonesa, enough people have gotten off that it’s a more comfortable ride, and sometimes I even manage to occupy a seat. I get off of the bus on Brazil in front of the Johnnie Walker sign, and walk to the office half a block, or cross the street and backtrack a block depending on whether or not the stop light turned red or stayed green. The past couple of days I passed by an old man walking the other direction telling me that I am a beautiful doll. This process takes anywhere from 25-40 minutes.

If you want to see pictures of while I was ‘out of routine for two weeks’ check out these facebook picture albums: http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014625&l=8962f&id=24100417 and http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2014605&l=b872b&id=24100417, also you can read my latest volunteer newsletter: http://www.pcusa.org/missionconnections/letters/yav/yav_phillipsk_0705.htm

Maybe Hope, Hope Unknown...

2007-04-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from March and April... you should look at them and make comments;)

http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013639&l=a6636&id=24100417

I am amazed at how rapidly these past 8 months, since I got on the airplane to Chicago, have gone. I can remember so clearly the happy dance Kelly and I did in the airport after weighing my suitcases and both were under 50 pounds(just bairly). I have so many new memories, that make that dance seem like a lifetime ago. I am missing your faces now, but I only have about 3 months left. I hope to experience fully each moment here and live out these steps on my path with hope in the goodness of people, knowing that together change is possible.

I love and miss you my friends.

We're All In This World.

2007-04-18T14:27:00.000-07:00

Much of my time these past few weeks was dedicated to a youth group delegation from a Michigan church, planning it and then accompanying it as small group and work team leader, and translator. I enjoyed very much watching the youth’s reactions to cultural things that I have been adapted to, but I enjoyed more watching these young people have a transformational experience. I compared much of it to the trips I took to Colombia my senior year in high school and college, that had so much of an impact on my faith journey.

The highlight of this trip was a mural we painted together. I spoke at the dedication ceremony in both Spanish and English. I was pretty nervous going off the cuff to a large group of people, but it went really well. We had painted the leaves of the many trees in the mural with hand prints, and the Mayor of La Oroya, who attended the mural dedication, placed his hand print in as a show of solidarity with the youth of La Oroya’s efforts/dreams for a cleaner and healthier city and people.

I am reminded again and again of how much the US impacts the rest of the world. How often does something happen in another country and everyone knows and talks about it? I was told again and again of the VT shootings by my co-workers, my host family, everyone. Perhaps because I am from the US, and perhaps because one of the victims was Peruvian, they sought me out to talk about it. But still I was amazed at the awareness they have of world events. I suppose it shouldn't be to hard to expect someone to know what is going in the world.

To make it eaiser for Kelly to memorize...

2007-04-04T15:19:00.000-07:00

Happy Easter everyone!

I have been really busy with work lately...a good thing, because I feel like I am actually accomplishing something when I am busy. We are hosting a huge group of high schoolers from Michigan(I know M*CH*G*N!) But, their leader is an Ohio Stae fan, so I suppose its going to be ok. I can't take to much rivalry after our second national championship loss this year;) A part of the trip is a joint health festival with young people from La Oroya and Huancayo. La Oroya is one of the top ten most contaminated cities in the world, due to the Doe Run smelting plant. Included in the festival is a mural project with the theme Together we can change and dream how we want our Oroya. I am very excited for the chance to lead this group in such a powerful message. Please pray for all of us as this trip proceeds and especially the days we spend in La Oroya April 9-11.

ps. to those of you Westminster-ites, pay special attention to the new stoles on Sunday, made by our Bridge of Hope artisans!

I’m a Barbie girl, living in my Barbie world…

2007-03-12T14:25:00.000-07:00

Tuesday- I attended a discussion group with Ruth, my site coordinator. The theme was a Lenten dedication to Peace. One comment that remains with me is that a conflict has not just two sides, it has at least as many sides as there are people involved, usually more.

Thursday- while on my way out to Comas for my weekly guitar lessons, I was early. I took the bus that has a bit longer route and usually takes an hour and 20 minutes, but Thursday it only took about 50, so I decided to stop at the Metro, buy a water and mosey my way up to the church. I’ve done this 15 minute walk several times, to run errands or grab a snack. It has always had a calm, laid back manner, giving me the impression things out in Comas are more tranquil. But, this time, was not so much. I received the cat calls and general torments of my usual walks in other parts of Lima. I picked up my relaxing mosey pace to my standard fast walk and realized that I had never walked this route solo before. Its always been with my yav friend/guitar teacher/basketball history guru, Jamie.

Friday- Flor and Eduardo(co-worker)’s first son, Fabiàn Ernesto, was born at 6:40am.

Saturday- I visited the happy family in the clinic and got to hold the tiniest person I’ve ever held. He was 3.5 kilos, which apparently for a baby is quite substantial, but for me having zero experience with babies is itty-bitty. That night, I had a fabulous time celebrating Maribel’s birthday. I enjoyed dancing with many of her friends. One friend told me I was Barbie, he meant it as a compliment, I quietly took it as an insult – and on retrospect, it has some truth to it. I spend most of my time bopping along, thinking we’re all in this together, but in reality, I have a totally different background from every person I am in contact with daily. I don’t see it always, but I realized they can see it. While taking a rest from dancing, I got asked to dance again. At first I rejected the offer, but upon persistence I got up to dance once more. Seconds later, in my peripheral vision I see Maribel’s aunt near us and the next thing I know, I have beer on my clothes and the glass is broken on the floor. I don’t know if she was throwing it at me or him or both of us, but I took this as my cue to exit stage left. Her other aunt stopped me and sat me down, telling me that her sister-in-law is crazy, and not to worry about it. I told her I was fine, I’m just going to leave because its late, and two friends walked me home. I realized that my ability to read people in Spanish is crap! Generally, in the States I am pretty good at observing the scene, and getting what’s not being said, but here I have a bubble up, I get the words that come out, but what’s behind them is hidden. I’m sure if my radars had been functioning, I would have seen the jealously or anger or whatever it was. I would have just stuck to dancing with the other guys, and I wouldn’t have gotten up to dance with him.

It takes weeks like this past one to help me remember that my life, my perceptions of situations and my reactions are formed specifically to me and from my experiences. Put any other person in my place and they would have different views and produce different outcomes.

14 Minutes in Ecuador

2007-02-27T13:13:00.000-08:00

I was in Ecuador officially for 14 minutes. We stamped in one line and walked to the other window to unstamp. It was a pretty intense experience once we got out of Tumbes. We were ambushed as we got out of the van we rode up there by a whole crap load of drivers. I didn’t talk to any of them and let the group decide our best route, I witnessed, as Jason was talking to one driver and another guy came up to talk to him, a fist fight and my thoughts were lets get out of here-fast! Upon reflection, it may have all been a part of the scheme to get to scared and get in a car because it was a pretty lame fight(according to the others in my group).

Finally we agreed on S/.(soles) 5 a person to the boarder and got into 2 taxis. As we headed to our taxi I realized the guy we had been talking to was not the driver. The driver was one of the men who had been in the fist fight, but we got in anyway. The man we had been talking to got in the front seat and he played the role of ‘the intimidator’ – the scammer – the lier. He spent the whole ride turned around in Dave, Jamie and my faces. Talking to us really fast and angry once we said we didn’t want his ‘help.’ He informed us that the actual price for our ride to the boarder would be 40 soles, playing that he thought we only wanted to go to the immigration office and this was 38 km(my thoughts were oh, more than a sole a km-how ridiculous). He wanted to ‘help’ us by giving him $30 per passport so that we could get our passports stamped and return within an hour. He told us that if we had to be in Ecuador for 48 hours before we could return or we would only be able to return with a 15 day visa(we needed 90 more days). But, if we paid him he would sit down with a guy(he knew people) and make it all work. He kept telling us that we weren’t understanding him and we didn’t understand how it worked, and that he was only trying to help us. Every time we started discussing our options in English he would interrupt us and talk over us again. At one point, we asked him to stop the taxi because we wanted to talk to our friends in the other taxi. They said they weren’t feeling intimidated and didn’t get he same sketched out vibes, and by the way their taxi ride was still S/. 5 per person. At this point we decided to get to immigration and ditch these guys asap. Once back in the car, more intimidation, but we had made up our minds. I was just waiting for any minute him to turn around again with a knife and say “You know what just go ahead and give me all your money anyway.”

He was so much in our faces all the way to the immigration line. Here he threatened the driver of Emily, Jason and Jimmy into charging S/. 40 for their ride too. They set up a guy to stand in front of us in line to ask about the 48 hour rule, we realized later he was another taxi driver. He was still trying to get us to pay him for his help, just $30 a person, and I was furious. I wanted him to leave us alone and I yelled at him ¡NO TENEMOS ESTO! (We don’t have the money). Which was true, we didn’t have 180 U.S. dollars. Finally we paid them their S/.80 and they left pissed off.

We waited in line a bit for our stamps. When it was my turn, he questioned me. Elizabeth? No, Kori ¿Vives en Perú? No ¿Que haces, eres una estudiante, trabajas acá? No ¿Por qué estas acá para tan tiempo, si no vives en Perú? Ahhh, solo para conocer… he stamped me out with a skeptical look in his eye. I was the only one in our group that got questioned, no one else said a word-not even hola o buenas tardes!

We continued north to the boarder and walked across in a rather anti-climatic way. It’s a bridge that on the Peru side the railing are painted red-white-red and the Ecuador side is yellow-blue-red. Ok, so we’re in Ecuador, now what? Find a place to get a stamp. While looking we talked to a guy who fed us the same 48 hour bull - but at the time we didn’t know that it was bull – he could help us out for only $10 a person, still we didn’t bite. We took a taxi to Ecuador’s immigration office on the outskirts of this boarder town. Again, the guy questioned me, and nobody else, through this little slit in the dark window. He was flipping the pages of my passport, stopped and looked up at me, ¿Que vas hacer? Ummm solo visitor. ¿Pero, donde vas? Este cidudad (I didn’t know the name of the town we were in). He started naming off a few places in Ecuador, and I responded, Si, es esto la cidiudad? No, esto es ______. Ok, quiero conocer este lugar. Ummhmm, he stamped me in with a skeptical look in his eye.

We next walked 10 feet to our left to wait in the line to get stamped back out of the country, for a grand total of 14 minutes officially in Ecuador. We headed for lunch on the Ecuador side at a restaurant that had very little food, at least 4 of us ordered something different that they were out of. There we tried the puro sabor nacional del Equador, Tropical and we decided Inca Kola is better-we must truly be Peruanos. At lunch Jamie called Hunter and Ruth to hypothesis what actions we should take if we only get stamped for 15 days at re-entry. We thought we’d simply stay in Ecuador for the 48 hours, find a dive hostel and stick it out. But, thinking about the anti-climaticness of the boarder. We could easily cross and make it back to Mancora and our fun in the sun beach house without notice. Hunter gave us the name and cell number of a congresswoman we work with to drop, and if it came down to it, and needed to disscuss it with the US consulate here is his number(this option was more of a joke, being Hunter’s cell number).

We encountered a taxi driver on our walk back over the boarder who wanted at first to take us to immigration, then Tumbes, we said nah, we are headed to Mancora, then he offered to take us back to Mancora, then a stop off at the market for our dinner groceries then on to our beach house south of Mancora. Some people argue for price, we argued for distance! Back at Peru immigration, it was easy and not intimidating at all. Again the guy asked me(and only me) questions, but this was in a more conversational, matter of fact sort of way, and stamped me back in for 90 more days.

Artsy-fartsy photo album: http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2012021&l=ee22a&id=24100417
Half-way point photo album: http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2012031&l=44208&id=24100417

I said drenched, and I mean drenched!

2007-02-09T12:00:00.000-08:00

These few weeks since my last post have simply flown by! I am finding myself very busy, as though there are not enough hours in the day to complete all I set out to accomplish!
Since vacation:
I have been working really hard to update/redesign the Fair Trade website: http://fairtradeperu.com/
I am teaching 2 separate English classes(one daily, the other weekly).
I have assumed the role of journalist/editor for an electronic newsletter La Retama, if you want to be put on the subscription list-let me know and I'll add you(its in English).
I led a mural project at one of the other YAV's churches in one long, fun and exhausting day.
I moved to a new house: exchanging one quiet family for a host mother that calls me hija(daughter) and a more conveinant location.
I play the role of crayon distributor during our Sunday School in the community of Shipibos.
I discovered 5 soles movie day is Tuesdays at the Metro.
I have been hit with 3 water baloons and drenched with 2 buckets for Carnivals.
I sent a newsletter to the pcusa website: http://www.pcusa.org/missionconnections/letters/yav/yav_phillipsk_0702.htm

Sunday night, I am headed up to Huanuco. This is an Andean city about 8 hours by bus from Lima. The organization Paz y Esperanza(Peace and Hope) has a summer camp there, yes its summer here now! The focus of this camp is on rehabilitation. I am leading daily art projects for 12 teens, all of whom have suffered from some sort of sexual abuse. I am really excited and very nervous for this, please say an extra prayer this week for my ability to facilitate a meaningful experience for them.

The following week, all the volunteers gather for a retreat at a beach house in Mancora(close to Equador, because we need to cross the boarder and return, to renew our visas). This is sure to be a fabulous time for reflection, re-engerizing, and fun!

Thank you so much for all your emails, prayers and well wishes.

The Results Are In!

2007-01-22T07:06:00.000-08:00

Here are the top vote winners.

1. Mi amigo secreto. I am sorry to say that mi amigo secreto isn’t as exciting as you probably assumed. Amigo secreto is like a secret santa gift exchange. Ysabel was the name I drew. She is in my morning English classes at the office. So I felt compelled to give her a teacher-y type gift: a Spanish-English dictionary. And she loved it! She wrote me a Christmas card and gave me some chocolates as a thank you. Friday, December 22nd was our Christmas Party at the Office. We had our gift exchange, each person describing who their gift was for, and us guessing. Conrado, the director of the Network, gave me a lovely vase. I also received a box of chocolates from the whole office. We had a Christmas lunch of Turkey, applesauce, something similar to a waldor salad and a champaign toast. It was fun celebration(that I forgot to bring my camera too).

2. My birthday in Huancayo. The fair trade team that I work with hosted 2 encuentros this year. One Huancayo for the artisans in and around Huancayo, Huancavalica and La Oroya. The other in Huacho for the artisans in and around Lima. The night we spent in Huancayo, Willy showed us around to a resturant and a bar with a live band and we danced and danced. Koki told the band members that we were celebrating my birthday, so all night they were giving me shout outs i.e. Kori, you’re not tired yet? - Kori, why aren’t you dancing? - Kori is from North America and its her birthday! It was a rather long celebration, and by the time we got back to the hotel at 4am the door was locked and we had to ring the bell several times before we were let back in! In the morning we visited several of the artisans’ workshops and the first one prepared us mundungo soup... I don't really know what was in my bowl, but they stew a sheep, so its kind of like a luck of the draw situation. All I know it that the mystery item was rather chewy!

3. 12 minutes till midnight and not a sole to spare. This is our New Year’s Eve story. During the day Kelly and I walked to the beach and jumped in the waves. In the afternoon we headed back to my house/church for service, Panetone and hot chocolate, and a chance for the church members to meet/ question Kelly. From there we bought a 7 sole bottle of ‘top shelf’ Champaign (which they dusted off for us) and headed to the hotel where Jamie and his friends were staying, hung out shared stories and cheap-Champaign toasts. Kelly and I headed out to get to our hostel’s New Year’s Party before midnight. We left at 11pm, plenty of time to spare(it should only be about 20 minutes maximum in taxi). At first it was rather difficult to hail one, and when one stopped I haggled for a price that was way too high, but I accepted because it’s a holiday and we wanted to get there rapidismo. When we got in I realized that oh no, I only had a large bill which are sometimes difficult for a taxista to break. So I told him this and we stopped at a gas station to break the bill, and a second gas station neither had enough change, or they were just being stingy. So I told him ok, we are heading to a hotel and they will be able to break it at the desk. So we finally head off (not far, maybe 10 minutes down this road). But he turned another way… hmmm I think, maybe he knows a short cut. Then we get to a part of Barranco that I don’t know, and he starts asking people where this street is. Oh crap, it wasn’t a short cut… So I tell him, sir we were very close before when we were at the gas station. If you go back there I can help you find it. But, of course he didn’t listen. What do I know? I am a dumb blond tourist to your city, right. He hears me saying very close and thinks I am talking about the time, because it was very close to midnight. Yes, señorita its close to midnight. No, sir I say you are going the wrong way. Finally we get to a part I recognize and I direct him from there, more forcefully, so that he will listen. We get to the hostel and I run inside to break the bill, the girl at the front desk checked her drawer and there wasn’t enough change. In my small change I was only short 3 soles, so I asked her to add it to my room bill, like they do with the bar and meals and services of the hostel. But, she wasn’t a regular employee and didn’t feel she had the authorization to do that. In the end, one of the girls there took pity on me and just gave me the 3 soles. I ran outside to the taxi and gave him the fair. He gave me one of his cards and told me to call anytime I needed a taxi (right, not in this life time)! We got inside dumped our stuff in the room and headed to the bar, it was 12 minutes till midnight. We ordered 2 cuba libres(rum and coke) and a bottle of Champaign. Ready to forget the disasorous adventure and celebrate. This was a pretty rockin’ party with a dj and they shot fire works off the roof of the hostel at midnight.

4. Kelly's visit. The write in ballot winner was that you wanted to hear about Kelly’s visit. I’ve posted pictures on my facebook account from her visit with captions to tell you all about it. http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2010987&l=058df&id=24100417

5. Lions and sand dunes and piscos, Oh my! This story is from the first week of January, still on vacations. The lions come from the zoo in Lima. I went with Eduardo, Jamie and Jim and Jane(Jamie’s friends from home). We got there pretty late in the day, close to closing time. We managed to get around to many of the animals before they shut down. We were in the area with tigers and lions when they were trying to get them into their night cages. We stood there frozen in awe as we heard one lion roar a magnificent roar, and the other 2 answered fiercely. With listening to this its not hard to understand why lions are the kings of the jungle! Sand dunes come from our visit to Huacachina. I caught a bus with Dave(who's family had also just left) to Ica, about 4 hours south of Lima. Huacachina is a tiny oasis town outside of Ica. There we met up with Jamie, Jim and Jane. We took a dunebuggie/sandboarding trip around the massive desert sand dunes. As our driver sped over, up, down and around the dunes, I screamed so loud along with Jane that at one stop our driver was laughing so hard he practically fell out of the buggie! Our driver would come up to cliff-type edges and we wouldn't know whether or not we were going over or if he'd slam on the brakes. Then we would get out and sand board down. Ica is known for its piscos(a famous liquor that Chileans and Peruvians argue about who invented it) and wines. In the afternoon we took a tour that included 3 bodegas and a chocolate factory-there we tasted 'drunk rasins' soaked in Pisco and dipped in chocolate. At the oldest bodega in Ica, Dave and I bought a bottle of Crem de Pisco- pisco, fig and cream-very yummy over ice. We became quite knowledgeable about the processes of fermentation and Pisco makeing, (also the flavors)!

6. More Pictures. Here are some pictures with captions to describe more of my happenings from before Kelly came and after she left. http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2010983&l=c0e45&id=24100417

Top Ten List

2007-01-10T14:35:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

Our yav group is entering the 2nd phase of the term here. The first phase from September - January was a time of observation, learning and simply being. To begin the second phase, January - May, I am to discuss and sign a Compromiso-not really a contract, more of a commitment signed by me and the office, and one signed by me and the church to deliniate goals for my learning from them, and my service/responsabilities to them. I am learning so much and new things everyday, but I found it difficult to list mesurable goals for my learning. One goal is improvement in my language skills. I am going to mesure this by my ability (or lack there of) to lead upcoming mural and art projects. The second goal I came up with from the help of Alejandro(my facilitator at the office). I hope to learn and see and feel more the spiritual connections of our social justice activities. The intent of the Joining Hands Network is ecumenically based and I hope to live this experience more spiritually. The plan for this to be a measurable goal is through journaling. I am attempting to journal daily to record this experience. I have found however that this is a disapline that is easy to fall out of. I realize how much has happened since my last blog entry, and have been playing catch up in my journal. I didn't write at all durning my sister's visit. I think its something I do and rely on when I have no one to process my thoughts with in English at the end of the day. So now its down in my Compromiso and signed so the amazing insites are just around the corner, you just wait!

As for the activites to catch you up on since my last entry, I'll list my top ten and host a vote. You tell me what you want to hear most about.

1. My birthday in Huancayo
2. La Mafia in Huacho
3. Mi amigo secreto
4. The attack of a plastic bottle, and my sister's revenge
5. Wine over the sea
6. The longest game of Sorry ever
7. The search for chupetes
8. Pelicans and bird poo
9. 12 minutes till midnight and not a sole to spare
10. Lions and sand dunes and piscos, Oh my!

Confessions of a Gringa

2006-12-11T09:48:00.000-08:00

Saturday afternoon I spent 20 soles on 4 batteries and a cup of coffee. Larco Mar is the super gringo-ized outdoor mall that over looks a cliff down to the ocean. I was in my room doing work all morning, and I felt couped up. I needed to get outside on such a sunny day, and decided to capitalize on my gringa-ness by buying my first Starbuck's latte in 4 months. From El Augustino I caught the azul 24 on the Evitamiento(the section of the Panamerican highway that's right outside my house) and rode it an hour down to Miraflores. I may have in the process discovered my new vice. I don't really like be treated like a tourist there though. I want to tell the workers that speak to me in English, hey I live here, in a pueblo joven. But, I am choosing to put myself in this situation. And I'll suffer through the steriotypes, for a nice view of the ocean and a cup of starbucks once in awhile.

I have recently become very much more aware of the nature of the church here due to the fact that I understand so much more of what they are saying. I participated in my church's version of a lock-in on Satuday night. And for this reason I justify the Starbucks. Nancy and I would always get a nice big cup before our Westminster lock-ins. This lock-in or vigilia was very different. First off, it was the adults who participated. Several members had one hour to lead, including me(which I found out on Wednesday, giving me sufficient time to prepare;) and we stayed up all night. Not, playing games or making sure people aren't making out, but we prayed, read the Bible and sang for eight hours and then ate not doughnuts, but soup at 6am. I was really glad to experience it, and feel my Spanish has come a far way for me get through my hour. I haven't yet fully formulated my thoughts on it, yet.

I generally think of myself as a peaceful person. But, I am wadgeing a war. Right now, I am on the loosing side of this battle. The bugs that enjoy eating me alive are winning. Each night they feast, and each morning I itch! I am attempting to de-bug my room this evening, as I am leaving for Huancayo and the cemicals will have time to work their vicious magic.

I want you to know that I did get to celebrate a good Thanksgiving, even though it is not the tradition here. The yav group got together for a meeting and to eat some fabulous food. Our meetings are great, not only because I really enjoy the other volunteers with me in Peru, but also it helps me to see the bigger picture. When I'm going along, doing my thing, set in my routine, I sometimes forget why I am here. This is bigger than me just going to the office, writing this newsletter, sitting in on that meeting. I was called here for a reason. I'm not sure quite yet what that is, but when we get together and reflect, and share, I can try to understand.

Quickie

2006-12-01T12:32:00.000-08:00

Hey guys- sorry I don't have time to write a new entry yet. But, here's a link to some new pictures on my facebook album:
http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2009271&l=e1957&id=24100417

Enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving, a week late:)

Elections in Peru

2006-11-20T10:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday were the elections here in Peru. Although I was asked on two separate occasions if I was voting (ummm…como se dice duh), I was a mere observer. To start with, they have many many candidates, and each party has a symbol. At first, I wondered why sometimes on the advertisements the symbol was x-ed out. But, in conversations I learned that they use the symbols because not everyone can read, and there are a lot of Quechua speakers, who don’t know Spanish. This still didn’t answer my question as to why the symbols were x-ed out, but with further exploration, those billboards said marc asi(mark like this). Ahh, the x’s are good, that’s how they want you to mark your ballots.

A couple of weeks back, I saw a group of people in ASHRIEL handing out goods. They had bags of stuff marked for family with kids, family with young adults, exc. I was intrigued and wondering who they were, I watched to figure out more about this aid group. After they had handed out most of their bags I saw that they had t-shirts with one of the candidate’s picture, symbol and slogan to give out. I didn’t want to be cynical, but wow. Yes, I agree with the aid, but how easy is it to manipulate these people? If elected, would he continue with the aid? But, then I also asked myself, how many of these people actually vote?

At dinner one day, Jackie mentioned a voting fine. This puzzled me, so I asked a bunch of questions and posed a few hypotheticals to understand. Everyone in Peru votes. If not, they have to pay a fine. From age 18-70, if you do not vote the next time you try to use the bank, or go to a doctor, or do anything of an official capacity they charge you 120 soles. So figuring this out, brings me cynically back to the people I saw in ASHRIEL.

Saturday, I got to watch THE game. I was so pumped! This was going to be my first Buckeye game of this fabulous season. Generally I am supposed to work with the church on Saturdays and haven’t been able to figure out where/how to watch. This Saturday, however I was working at a Christmas Bizarre selling our Bridge of Hope products. It was a huge fair organized by the US Embassy. We did really well and sold about 5500 soles worth of our artisans’ items (3 times what they did last year). I left at 2:30 to make it down to a gringo-ish bar in Miraflores that shows American football. I walked in and saw OSU gear. I was happy. There weren’t any empty tables downstairs. So, I walked up to a table with some Buckeye fans and asked if I could sit with them until my friend arrived. I had my national championship hoodie tied around my waist, and showed them, see I’m a fan. It wasn’t cold enough to be wearing a hoodie, but this is the only gear I have here(and some boxers, but I didn’t think I could get away with those, so I wore them under my shorts). I ordered a water because they were drinking cokes at the table. When Jason arrived he asked you’re drinking water? I told him I was waiting on him to get a beer. Friends that he had made last time he was there were sitting upstairs. I was a little hesitant to leave the atmosphere, but people were cheering for OSU upstairs as well. So I said ok, thinking it would be a good idea to make some friends who were living here, rather than vacationing(like the table I was sitting with). Upstairs I picked up the drink menu, so ready for a cold beer, but the group at the table all told me no, its dry today. My response was – you’re kidding, right? - But no, Peru was dry for the whole election weekend. Apparently, you can’t sell alcohol because they don’t want their citizens to be drunk and voting! I did get some yummy, yummy onion rings though. I wish I could have talked to my sister(I had told her on Friday that she didn't need to drink a beer for me this time, because I was going to be able to). It was nice to meet and talk to these people, but they were watching the game a little half-assed. So, towards the middle of the game I was missing my table with the fan, fans. But, I chose the attempt of friends over dedicated fans. And, this was the risk I took when I went upstairs, but by then it was too late to renig. All in all, I was thoroughly happy. And yes, I did sing Carmen Ohio at the finish.

Yesterday, I made lunch for the host family. I chose grilled cheese and tomato soup as a traditional American meal. It was a success!

I realized last week that I put the wrong links up to my picture albums. You should be able to view these:
http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2008228&l=152b4&id=24100417

http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2006974&l=4978d&id=24100417

Estoy una Piña

2006-11-15T07:14:00.000-08:00

Is it better to talk and talk and spout ideas and never act or to start something, but never finish? Fidel asked me one evening walking back from ASHRIEL, the Shipibo community. After I finally understood what he was asking me (he talks with a lot of jergas – slang), I was still puzzled. I didn’t know which scenario was better, I don’t like either. I answered him with the second, because maybe if you start something and don’t finish someone else may pick up where you left off. I don't know though, maybe its better to talk and not act, because a job left unfinished isn't that great either. As Luz y Vida attempts to build a Club de Niños and an youth/young adult group with ASHRIEL, I think about this a lot. We may talk about or plan something the night before, and in the morning when we arrive, plans have changed, or the person you were supposed to meet is occupied, or you have to remind them of what you are suppose to be doing. We inevitability have to hunt down someone with keys to the Director’s Office where the chairs are stored.

But, the work is good, is needed. I am with the 10-13 year olds and of the four that came the first week, two cannot read. I had made word searches for them, and at first I thought maybe they haven’t done these before. But, two of the boys were right on it, hunting down the words and circling them. When I was explaining to the others, look for this letter first, and then this letter next to it, and then pointing out the whole words, they still had trouble circling the words. I hope that this boy and girl didn’t get too frustrated and never come back.
I hope our group builds. As a result of the terrorism the Peruvians suffered in the 80s and 90s, people tend to be very distrusting of outsiders. Two of the three Saturday evenings that I’ve come for the youth and young adult group, no Shipibo youth or young adults came! The one Saturday that I missed, we had ten people come. Fidel joked that I was piña(pineapple), a jerga for bad luck. Pray that with presence and time this community will begin to accept us, and participate in the clubs. Coming from Westminster, I was blessed with a large youth group, and never realized the difficulties in the formulation of a new group.

I want to clear up somethings about the purple Catholics, as Kelly called them. Although I spent much of October avoiding the processionals, I did on the last weekend of October become one of the traffic blocking spectators with Maribel, a coworker, and her family. Señor de los Milagres (Lord of Miracles) celebrates when, during an earthquake, everything was flattened but a painting of Jesus on the cross. This painting was the only thing left standing in a fairly large circumference. Every year in October they celebrate with carrying a shrine from church to church in Lima. Catholic women wear simple purple dresses tied with a white rope as a belt, and the men purple ties. A dessert made especially in Octobers for this is Turrones, a shortbread type cake creation, with a lot of caramel and candy type things in between the layers, quite delicious. During the month of October earthquakes are frequent. We had one big one, and several small ones this year! The Lima-ites joke that this is in remembrance of the miracle. As we approached the massive amounts of people surrounding the procession, I recognized the hallelujah chorus that the choir was singing. Now, it didn’t sound as spectacular as it does on Easter mornings at Westminster, but it was so beautiful to hear, here in Lima.

Thank you for all of your comments and support.

MUWAH!

2006-11-03T11:26:00.000-08:00

I just got shushed at lunch today! There were six of us and we all were laughing, but you know me. I'm just guessing, but I think my laugh may have been a big contributor to the shush. We were having a borderline inappropriate conversation- no, not borderline, it was inappropriate, but I don’t care. We were having a hilarious time, and I was understanding it, as they were explaining to me as we went along. I was able to laugh at something other than myself. And this is good, to enjoy the humor of others. To you that may sound odd, but for the past 2 months, I haven’t really gotten the jokes. Everybody will giggle at something, and then someone will try to explain what they are talking about, and I give a courtesy laugh, even if its not funny to me. But today we all laughed. So, whatever old lady at El Delfin, I laugh loudly!

Right now, I believe I’m in the thick of cultural shock. It seems like my days are extreme opposites. I’ll have a great day, then wake up in the morning, and have an invisible day. You know what I mean, a day when nobody seems to get you, or understand you, or even see you. Hence invisible. That is I’m invisible to everyone but the cat-callers. And on these days every cat call, every hello, every lindo, every preciouso, every I love you just makes me burn. The worst is the kissing noise, the smacking of lips together in a smooch sound. I have come to almost expect this. When I pass a group of boys or men, I brace myself for it. Jason, another YAV here in Lima, doesn’t hear it. We can be walking down the street and I’ll hear the noise and say there it is. And he’s like what, no I didn’t hear anything. Its subtle, but so annoying!

I’m placing my communication abilities hand in hand with my ability to get over this whole culture shock thing. I am trusting that the more and more I understand and am able to say, the less and less confusion I will have. Also the more I fill up my down time, the better. Yesterday for my second guitar lesson Jamie, fellow YAV who is teaching me to play, asked me do you really have nothing better to do than sit around and practice the guitar? My response was well yeah, sort of.

Once I arrive home, if nothing is planed to do with the church, I generally do not leave again in the evenings. For two reasons, my neighborhood isn’t the safest to return to after 10ish and my family doesn’t really leave for any reason after dark. They are a little lets say on the conservative side, and don’t participate in things like going out for a drink, or teaching me to dance salsa. This has been a bit disappointing for me to deal with, however I believe I can learn different skills from my family. Like how to start random conversations to break the silence, and kids, little ones, how to coexist with them. Fiorella, the one year old, is adorable and runs around the house saying korikorikori. But, Andrea, is more of a challenge. She is four, and well she is four.

I just changed my settings on my blog from Spanish into English, and realized that I can change my comments section. Now anyone can post comments, without having an account here. So, as I am getting over this whole culture shock-two month hump-depression-thing, it would be great to hear from you! Just send me a quick message, its nice to know who is reading this. Thanks:)

Oliver Twist

2006-10-25T08:41:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last couple of weeks like any normal noncatholic Lima-ite, avoiding the procession of Señores de las Milagres. During the month of October Catholics wear all purple and have processions in the streets. The trick though, is that I don't really know where they are going to be on any given day and how it is going to affect the traffic/my bus route. Last Wednesday, for my first english lesson at the office I left my house at 7:50am to be on time for my 8:30 class. Unfortuately, this day the processional blocked Tacna and I didn't arrive until 9:10. So, Thursday was my first class. It worked out for the best though, because we changed the classes from 8:30 to 9, and now, I don't have to interupt my host family's breakfast time.

I need to add one tip to my riding the bus experience... Keep one hand in the pocket with your money. I got pick-pocketed on Saturday on my way to Inglesia San Pablo. A group of 3 boys and 4 men got on teh already crowded bus at the same time. They were jostling everyone around, and I felt a hand in my pocket-my pocket that didn't have any money in it-and when I went to check my other pocket, my 10 soles were gone. It all happened so fast, and I couldn't figure out which one of them had it. I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to do and its only about $3. At first, I was mad at myself for protecting the wrong pocket, then I was kind of sad for the boys. They were young and this is what they are learning to contribute to society? But, then I cheered myself up by singing You've got to pick a pocket or two, boys, you've got-to-pick-a-pocket-or-two.

Yesterday in talking to Ruth, I said something in Spanish that I had ment to be in English. It was only tambien, but it made me realize that I am begining to think in Spanish, which is important. So, I welcome this confusion involved my learning process.

Here is are two links to my facebook picture albums:
http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2006974&page=1&id=24100417

http://owu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2008228&page=1&id=24100417
Enjoy!

I have also added my newsletter to the PCUSA web site:
http://www.pcusa.org/missionconnections/letters/yav/yav_phillipsk_0610.htm

Water, Water Everywhere

2006-10-14T18:55:00.000-07:00

I haven't written in awhile, and I'm finding it difficult to pick which stories to share. I thought I'd string this entry together with a theme.

Last Saturday Ruth invited me for lunch and to use their hot water. She insited I take a relaxing bubble bath in their jacuzzi tub. It didn't take much to convince me. So once the water fills up past the jets, I turn the whirlpool on, ready to relax. I was unprepared for this. With a ton of force the water shot out and hit the back of the tub and sprayed the whole bathroom and my backpack! The bubbles foamed up and sprayed everywhere. And the water was spilling out of the bathroom door. I threw my towel at the puddle and tried to turn the jets off. But the button wouldn't work. So I covered the jet which was responsible for soaking the bathroom with my foot, and attempted to wash myself off all the while trying to turn off the jets. I let the water out of the tub, hoping they would stop once there was no water to cycle through. But they didn't, they were just making this terrible noise and spurting a bit of bubbles out now and then. Ruth told me later that Andrew, her 14 year old son, asked her if I knew how to use a bathtub. Aparently, I do not.

Sunday night I, along with team Lima, took the 8 hour bus ride to Huanuco. We were meeting with the whole yav group to reflect on the past five weeks and hang out, see Emily's work and trek into the jungle. On the trip there our cabin door was broken and kept banging open and shut, simply to annoy Jason. I attempted a trip to the bathroom at about midnight. The bathroom is just outside our cabin, also with a faulty door. I really had to yank it open, and when leaving I was having a difficult time with the lock and had to push with much force to get out. At the same time we must have been on one of the many hairpin turns our bus navigated, and I fell out of the bathroom. I had to grab onto the handles in the entryway to pull myself back up. Wishing I had a video tape of the past few minutes, I go back to my seat with a warning to Jason and then Jamie who were attempting next. But, remember our cabin door was also broken, and at the same time I was making my dramatic exit from the bathroom, it swung open! Fortunately, Jamie and Jason were the only ones awake and we had a good laugh about it.

We took a touristy day and hiked through the jungle of Tingo Maria, which is about a 3 hour drive from Huanuco. It was beautiful and we swam in this waterfall. It was cold and clear, and felt great, especially on my legs that were covered in misquito bites. After returning to Huanuco we decided to get pizza and make our way back to La Granja, a camp owned by Paz y Esperanza where we were staying. It was pretty dark by this time and we had to yell(because none of us have a loud wistle) to the boat man who was off duty by this time to pull us across the river on a boat attached to a rope and pulley system. We had two flashlights one in front and one taking up the rear. I was walking 3 back, and couldn't really see the light beams from either flashlight. Distracted by a converstion about West Side Story, I stepped into a hole, dropped the pizza and fell on my face! It of course was filled with water and my right pant leg and shoe got soaked. By this time I didn't really feel like laughing. It was late and we had been up since 6am, I wasn't hurt, simply frustrated with myself for falling.

Saturday morning I did my laundry at the house. It was well needed because I had cramed my still wet pants and swim suit into my backpack for the bus trip back. I have to do laundry in the morning because the clothes usually take all day to dry, and sometimes longer for my hand-washed items. And it is not recommened to keep the laundry hanging on the roof over night. Because either the dogs will get it or people will take it(I'm not sure which because I recieved this warning pretty early on when I didn't understand much-I merely got that I needed to take my clothes down before night). So anyway, I ran out of water while I was rinseing my clothes. I was told this happens because all the world washes their laundry on Saturday mornings and we just ran out. For my neighborhood its not really a big deal, apparently they have only had running water here since the mid 90´s. Before then, they had to carry it in from across the Panamerican. This was also before the Puente(pedestrian overpass) had been built, so they had to run across the highway with water!

Oh and my showers are still cold, but I have perfected the hokey-pokey type process, you know put your right arm in, take your right arm out.

no money 4-da-bus

2006-10-06T13:59:00.000-07:00

My tips for riding the bus in Lima:
1.Flag correct bus (they have the names of the streets for their route written on the side).
2.Get on quickly, usually the cobrador (the person, usually male, who collects the pasajes and tells the driver where to stop, when to enter between cars, and yells out the door at people were they are going) is telling you to hurry, hurry.
3.Attempt to secure a seat
If no seats available:
3a.Grab a hold of the bars screwed to the ceiling-quickly, the bus will not wait for you to gain your balance. This is no loose hold like the subway in New York. This is a strong grip preventing you from falling.
3b.Your stance should be wide, if crowded- you may only be able to go hip width.
3c.Position yourself either near the front of the bus or towards the back. This gives you better access to more seats. If you stand in the middle you may only have quick access to the row you are standing next to.
3d.HOLD YOUR GROUND!! You may be asked to move, or squish, but try to let others move around you.
3e.If someone is rubbing their genitals against your butt, re-adjust. Even if you are not sure if it is on purpose or not, re-just anyway!
3f.Be on the look out, once someone starts to gather their things- be ready. Sit down as quickly as possible.
4.Look out the window to recognize landmarks.
5.Have your pasaje(fair) ready. Try to have correct change, they might give you falso sloes back. If its not far, you only need to pay 50 centimos. Sometimes they will try to argue with you. If necessary get off the bus and wait for another. It won’t be too long till the next one comes.
6.Know the name of street or landmark where you are headed. Now, a side bar on pronunciation… Petit Thouras is the name of the street I change busses on my way home. It doesn’t matter which way I pronounce it, the cobrador always repeats it back to me differently. If I say it like paytettourar, they say paytet toras, if I say paytet toras, they say paytettourar, either way I just nod.
7.When you’re close, approach the cobrador and say baja isquina, or baja puente. If they pass were you want to stop, say it with force, BAJA, BAJA Señor.
8.The cobrador will move his arm aside when it is time for you to get off. They don’t always come to a complete stop. So, don’t stumble, the other traffic may not stop for you either!
Observations: I rode a bus the other day with a ghost busters sticker on it.
I rode a bus the other day and the driver answered his cell phone.
There is no limit to the amount of people they will try to squeeze in the bus. You may be involved in a race against another bus another running the same route. If so, hold on tight!

Un Mes

2006-09-28T11:18:00.000-07:00

After being repetitively asked what the cuisine of Ohio is, if I could cook, and a suggestion from Nancy, I decided to make Buckeyes. Armed with my dictionary, I braved the grocery store. I bought butter, flour (had a debate with Santiago about which was all-purpose), powdered sugar, and vanilla. Now we come to the chocolate part, more difficult than you might imagine. We went to a candy store and I bought a bar of chocolate that seemed like it would do the trick. OH was I wrong! It burnt in the bottom of the pan and I spent about 20 minutes trying to scrubbing it. So yesterday I bought some vanilla crackers and spread the sweet peanut butter mixture on them. I was in my room reading when Andrea tried one, and I hear her yelling, “¡FEO, MUY FEO!” Apparently, she did not like them. Later, with our after dinner mint tea we ate them. As Andrea told me that she did not like them, the rest of the family tried to cover it up by talking loudly to her and me at the same time, quite amusing. I think I will attempt pecan pie next, now if that is muy feo, I would be offended. Peanut butter on crackers doesn’t really get to me.
Pastor Rodrigo likes to make sarcastic comments, these I never really pick up on until I ask ¿verdad? and he tells me ‘es una broma.’ Now, I generally have a good sense of humor bordering on harsh, but here when I’m trying to figure out what is going on 80% of the time, it just flies right over my head. I cover up my attempts at sarcasm with laughing at my own jokes, so they get that I am joking. Yes, I am aware this makes me somewhat of a dork, but I can’t do any better yet.
I’ve noticed on the bus, several people making the sign of the cross. At first I laughed to myself, as I assumed they were doing this because the ride was getting a little rough. But, the other day the woman sitting next to me made the sign of the cross during a relatively safe ride. I looked out the window and noticed we were passing a catholic church. I realize that first impressions require further analysis. Even more so when you are in completely new surroundings... Monday at breakfast, the family was talking about how Andrea said she wanted to be a pastor, and she should go to Ohio and do this. I said maybe Andrea would be the first Peruana Pastora. Rodrigo responded with si, en Ohio. This past year I lived with a woman pastor and I have been encouraged to go to seminary. I don’t see that path in the cards for me, but I am struggling with the exclusion. I am loosely forming a connection between the fact women aren’t allowed to be pastors and one of the first questions I am frequently asked: if I am married. I am in the being and observing phase of my stay here in Peru, and I’m not trying to judge, merely comment.
The other YAVs and I have a joke dos o tres meses: this is not only the amount of time you are allowed to stay in the country with a travel visa, but also the estimated time it takes to become accustom to a new country and language. Jamie thinks that whatever ‘it’ is will always be dos o tres meses away.. right now I agree. But, because today makes a month that we have been here in Peru, I hope that thought will change in uno o dos meses.

Some Visuals

2006-09-21T09:54:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how to get the pictures in a specific order, so this is a mix and match mas o menos... The Peru YAVs: Sutton, me, Jamie, Jimmy, Jason, Emily and David. Here we are singing, which we were asked to do during orientation several times, we've come up with a set list that includes Lord I Lift Your Name on High, Sancuary, Kumbaya, Open the Eyes of My Heart, and Nun ya da.
Ruth and I at lunch on the last day of orientation. We went to a buffet and ate big's blood. I didn't know what it was until afterwards. It was kind of gross when I was eating it, and even worse after I knew what it was! But here I also tried arroz con leche for dessert, which was fabulous.
The landscape is the view out of my window on a good day. Generally the air is quite smogy and sometimes you can't even see it, but for a hazy outline.

Aparently, I was mistaken about the whole workshop thing (something that happens more often than I would like when I recieve instructions in another language). I don't have to lead these, only help out with them. Wahooo! Big weight lifted there. Today in the office I am working on an electronic newsletter...wahoo... something I know how to do, finally!

2006-09-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

Last night after church I was talking/waiting for someone to slow down enough so that I can understand and imput something with some of the members. Jaime (Elizabeth's husband) asked me what my plan was here in Peru, for my motives. I found this difficult to explain. I didn't want to say God was calling me to help you. That seemed insensitive. And I don't have a plan for the year, I came not knowing what my tasks would be.

We spent a lot of time at orientation talking about the importance of being, and the changed term missonary-the idea of being in community with people of another culture. It seems to me as though my expected duties with Luz y Vida are those of the more traditional term for a missonary. My understanding is that I am to teach the youth group things via workshops; workshops about enviornment, values, sex and self-esteem. This frankly terrifies me. I think I may have over emphasised the fact that I worked with my youth group back home. I've tried to explain to Pastor Rodrigo that I don't teach them anything. We would just talk about stuff related to the Bible, sometimes very loosely related. I know nothing about these topics and when I asked Pastor Rodrigo for more information he gave me 5 books about sex and one text book sort of thing about self-esteem, all in Spanish! So my 'family' doesn't dance or drink and I am to teach a workshop about abstinence...Did I miss something here, when did I sign up for a new set of morals?

Anyway I told Jaime that I came because I talked with Ruth in April and I liked her and what she had to say, and she said come to Peru!

The idea of faith based social justice programs is really exciting to me. I hope this year to soak up as much information as possible. I want to learn about non-profit organizations, about fair trade and exporting artisan crafts, about justice and reconciliation issues, about human rights and advocacy campaigns, to speak Spanish, and to salsa dance. I brought this up at lunch today, we talked about the whole YAV discernment process, and decided that most of the group came because Ruth is an excellent recruitor!

2006-09-14T14:52:00.000-07:00

I am undergoing an experiment to figure out if blonds or brunettes have more fun... in truth, I decided that I didn't want to stick out ridiculously. But, it doesn't really make too much difference anyway. I stick out, Eduardo (who works in the office) told me today that I wear brighter colors. I don't believe that will make a difference either. I stick out here. So this is me as a brunette.
I am tall here too. I am the tallest in my 'family' - Pastor Rodrigo is a bit shorter, and the women in my 'family' come up to my sholders. Yes, there are tall people here, but so many are shorter than me. Yesterday at lunch Jenny, Eduardo and Maribel(who work in the office) told me I should find a Peruvian man, I told them the men here are too short for me!
Lunch is my favorite part of the day here... social and fun attempts at improving my castellano.

2006-09-07T19:41:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is our last day together as a group. I suppose we have now been sufficiently oriented to the life and times of Peru. While I am learning and seeing new things everyday, particular things are gradually becoming familer to me:
our breakfast of bread and jam-sometimes with cheese or bologna
greeting everyone in the room with a kiss on the cheek
the look and feel of the sol as currency
my confusion as I attempt to communicate with my family, taxi drivers, shopkeepers
rice at every meal
the size of the meals
my bus route
dogs everywhere, even on the roofs
traffic everywhere, even on the roofs
the faces of the six other volunteers who have rapidly become support and comfort
mountains looming in the sky line
smog and exhaust of cars and buses
the group of guys with dice on the corner near my house at night and singing to myself I got your horse right here...
the old man sitting outside the corner store in the morning
looking in the mirror and remembering I am a brunette
coming home to Andrea calling Hermana Kori Hermana Kori
always carrying toliet paper with me
and the fact that my shoes squeek when I walk around the house.

2006-09-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

I made it to work and back all by myself today (all 4 buses)! I feel so independent, even if its only small accomplishments.

2006-09-01T19:49:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the blog of Kori. Yes I have become a 'blogger' about my life this year. I am living with a very nice and very quiet family in Lima, Peru: The Maslucans. The cast of characters includes Pastor Rodrigo & Neillie and their daughters, Jaquline, Loida, and Elizabeth who lives on the first floor with her husband Jamie and their two daughters, Andrea who is 3 but claims 4 because her birthday is September 18th, and Flourella age 1. This is the imediate family, but yesterday morning David was at breakfast and dinner as well as today. He makes this introverted family seem like chatty cathys, so I haven't quite yet figured out who he is and how he is connected. He went home tonight, so maybe he works with the church and goes home on the weekends.

We arrived on Monday night and are in the orientation phase of the year. I am doing much listening and learning and attempting to communicate. The Spanish is coming along poco a poco, but it seems as though I start over every day with the learning process. We meet with the group, 7 YAVs y dos mas gringos, at the officina de Red where I will be working. Jimmy, David, Emily and Sutton (who has been renamed Santiago because it doesn't translate very well) leave for other proviences of Peru next Saturday. Jamie, Jason and I remain in Lima to work with different churches and parts of Red (The Network). Lima is very big and I am about a twenty minute to forty minute ride into the center of town where Jason is and Jamie is about forty-five minutes farther. By the way my name is the Quechua word for gold.

Today we went to a celebration/demonstration for the third anniversary of a truth commission report about the terrorism and violences and massacures that happened here in the 80s and 90s. They have constructed a beautiful memorial in rememberance of the lives lost during that time. In the center of this laybrith is a stone sculpture called el ojo de llanto (the crying eye). The stones that make up the path of the laybrith have names, ages and the year of a victim's death. The most heart breaking were those names with 0 años. As I learn more and more about the history of Peru, I am constantly reminded of what is happening in Colombia right now. This thought is so overwhelming at times because I know these autrosities and power struggles happen over and over in place after place. But the more and more people are aware of these things we can begin to change and at least keep them from continuing.

In this culture you greet everyone when you enter and say good bye to everyone as you leave with a kiss on the cheek for las damas and men shake hands. But, you do this with everyone and if you say good bye then continue talking - before you leave you go around again and again if that is the case so that the last thing you do before you exit is say good bye. I enjoy this custom, it is so inclusive. On Tuesday we celebrated the holiday of Santa Rosa (the patron saint of Lima I think) with the nine churches Jamie is going to be working with. They had the 7 of us stand in a line and every one of them greeted us with kiss or a hand shake!

All in all its been an exciting-challenging-welcoming-exhausting-cold showering first week.