OH NO IT’S HAPPENED I’VE BECOME A MYSTICALLY INCLINED HIPPY

Apologies in advance for getting philosophical up in here, but I’m in the Peace Corps now so it’s an occupational hazard. But I’d like to take this moment to say how very GRATEFUL I am to my friends and family, in America and in Peru, and to the universe for putting me on the path to this experience. I know, I said grateful to the universe. I’m just a few hippy musings away from selling healing crystals and hemp bracelets out of the back of a van.

But back to philosophy… As I’ve said before, this experience is challenging in unexpected ways. With a few more months under my belt and in talking to other volunteers, I can say with a good deal of confidence that it’s the internal, not the external, struggle that is hard. The external struggle (i.e. no running water, complete lack of infrastructure, no barriers to the elements, weird food) might exasperate it, but it’s the internal one that’s powerful. It’s not whether or not it’s too difficult that we’re all struggling with, it’s whether or not it’s worthwhile. But I think that that’s true with all things we do in life.

I think it’s a question that’s at the foundation of our experience as humans. It’s the meaning of life question that we’re all dealing with in big and small ways everyday. But being in the Peace Corps gives you A LOT of time to think, and to think on this very question. You’re alone a lot and without the distractions of your “normal” life. So instead of pondering it on my drive home from work or after one of my friends makes a big life decision, this question has been in front of me all day every day jumping up and down screaming at the top of its lungs: WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR?! And upon further consideration…I still don’t know.

But what I do know is that I have had moments of tremendous clarity in these last few weeks. I’ve been reminded of what a wonderful opportunity it is to have an experience like this, how important the people I love are in my life, how we are all connected, and the beauty of the Peace Corps mission. It’s a mission about love and friendship and world peace, and not many organizations can say that. And it’s easier to lose sight of than you might think.

It’s harder for me to see the impact that I’m making on others, but I know for me personally, this experience has already helped me see more clearly my strengths and weaknesses, it’s made me braver, it’s helped me to rediscover the courage and adventure seeking that I’ve always had but may have been in remission in these last couple years.

Even with this clarity, though, I still panic every day over whether I’ll be able to really make a difference. I worry and I think: these are insurmountable problems, I’m just one person, maybe they don’t want my help, what can I give them, what if it’s all a waste… It’s very easy to go down this path and beat yourself up, and some days I do it a lot. But then I get a message from my aunt, my friend, my dad, my mom, telling me that what I’m doing has inspired them to do XYZ and it almost brings me to tears. And I’m not a crier, as some of you know. I think about my host nieces who’ve never been read to and now come into my room every day demanding to read The Giving Tree and If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, maybe they’ll have an interest in books that they wouldn’t have had otherwise. I think about how my host family has started eating more fruits and vegetables because I do. Or how my host mom trusted me more than the doctor when they were suggesting surgery for her sick son. I think about how our job here is essentially to inspire people to make their own lives better. These things remind me how powerful it is to be a catalyst, for people here and at home. And I think, even if it’s just these things it will have been worth it.

As much as I hope to inspire people in my work here, I have been inspired and moved by others even more. Like the time I was in the market and an old lady selling avocados broke off a piece of the sugar cane she was eating and handed it to me with a big toothless smile just because she wanted me to have it, or when the entire church came over to my house and prayed on their knees on the stone ground in the rain for an hour and a half for the health of my host mom’s son, or when I was walking in the city with some of my host family and these tiny Peruvian women formed a circle around me because they were scared I might get robbed (turns out this fear is legitimate) and they wanted to guard me. Or when my host family threw me a birthday party with a special dinner and a hot pink cake with my name on it and decorations and speeches and dancing and a video montage of pictures of my face with captions like “Kimberly is the best” after knowing me for only three weeks.

I think about all of these things, and I realize how much more I know about myself and my perspective on the world and what it means to me, in just this short time. I might doubt myself and this choice 1,000 more times during my service – but in this moment, I am just grateful.

WHEW that was a lot. You must be exhausted. But to wrap up my philosophical rumination, this is a poem that a returned Peace Corps Volunteer wrote for the 50^th anniversary of Peace Corps in 2011. I hope you like it:

50 years of Peace Corps: A Message for soon to be Volunteers 

 

Peace Corps is a twenty-seven-month-long-commitment, 

little do you know, you are in it for life. 

  

 It all starts with that spark from someone, "Uncle Dave served in Peace Corps and he loved it", "Do you know they work in Thailand?" or the best and the most simple, "You would be great in the Peace Corps." 

  

 The highest compliment, the deepest calling. 

  

 And then the paper trail begins, blazing a path through a dense bureaucratic network of uploaded dreams and poorly stated ambitions. 

  

 We trace every spark believing that it will one day lead to a full fire of intention. 

 Really, it's your first endurance test, and it is not a smooth process-believe me. 

  

 When volunteers start, their minds are wrapped around 1,000 different words for help, 

...empower, assist, aid, facilitate, uplift, 

yet no idea how to use them in a sentence.  Let alone in life. 

  

 Yes, we open borders, but more importantly, minds and hearts. 

 Winning them, earning them with the skills of our training and the purity of our efforts. 

 This is something those who are new to the family realize, and eventually, eventually, 9-12 months eventually.. 

 You will go forth from this time, and this place, toting all that you can carry of your past life and loved ones. 

  

 And then, 

you serve. 

  

 Never, will you feel more alive - it will surprise you. 

  

 It is a progression of connection. 

 at first, you are in your head and it's 

 American, meets other.  

 Then you get more grounded, and 

 volunteer, meets villager or teacher, meets student.  

 And then, if you are lucky, the simplicity settles in, and it's 

 human meets human,

 heart to heart. 

  

 It's all right there.  It's tucked into the humble corners of each day.  

 Two years- will fly by.  

 Watch carefully or you might miss it. 

 Blink twice, 

 and it's gone.. 

  

 And then, 

 you will leave those same coveted, carefully packed objects turned artifacts in the fault lines of all your cultural earthquakes.

 And then, 

 you come back. 

 You are returned volunteers, never former, and you try to trace the patterns of home and you stumble, and get dizzy, and people from the place you once knew ask...

  

 How was Malawi?  Ecuador?  Mauritania?  Poland? 

 How was Nicaragua?  Mali?  Panama?  Vanuatu?  Romania?  How was Tanzania? 

 And what did you do there? 

  

 Well, 

 and you will pause. 

   

 I changed the world. 

 I changed myself.    

 It's been 50 years of sweat and smiles, moments and memories, adventure and admiration, respect and realization  and waiting and waiting and waiting,

It's been 50 years of imagination and inspiration. 

Fifty years on paper, but we are a part of so much more. 

We bring hope to the forgotten corners of the world, 

 and find peace at our core.    

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Love,

Kimberly

Is This Real Life?

I realize this is shallow but I’m just going to go ahead and say it…I MISS MY CLOTHES! What I wouldn’t do to be able to wear a denim vest or a pair of high-waisted neon spandex. Honestly, other than my friends and family I think it’s what I miss most from home. When I told my friend that the other day he said, “Well isn’t that liberating in a way?” and no, it’s not. My closet from my former life was a beautiful thing!

It’s funny the things that make you miss home, though. It’s never the things you think. That’s also true for the things that make this experience difficult. Everyone said that the transition from training to site was going to be the hardest part, and they were right. These last few weeks have been hard. But not for anything in particular that I can pinpoint and not for the reasons I would have assumed before I got here.

It’s not the running water for 3 hours a day or "showering" with cold buckets of water out of a giant rubber trash bin, those things you get used to. It’s not the daily ridiculous cat-calling and inappropriate behavior from men, although that has surely made me want to karate chop a stranger in the neck from time to time. It’s not even the fact that everything takes SO long to do here. Something like making copies that takes maximum 10 minutes to do in the United States turns into a whole day project in Peru.

I think it’s just the day-to-day existing in a culture that is completely different from yours. The differences are stark and subtle and I actually think it’s the subtle ones that have more of an impact. The difference in the attitude towards time, for example, I think is a big one for Americans.

The other day my friend Sam was frustrated with a meeting not starting on time at his site, which is basically a given here in Peru. A Peruvian told him not to worry about it because, “Time doesn’t exist.” To this he replied, “It does in America.”

I think that about sums it up right there.

Until next time! I LOVE YOU!

Love,

Kimberly

Headache? There’s an Egg for That

Last Sunday I told Margarita that I had a headache and my host sister promptly went out to the market to buy an egg. Cut to me 5 minutes later sitting at the dinner table while Margarita rubs a whole, un-cracked egg all over my head for 10 minutes straight. It was kind of like she was scrubbing my head with the egg, in quick back-and-forth movements creating friction.

First experience with Peruvian traditional medicine, check. They explained to me that the egg takes out the pain as you “pasar” it on whatever part of your body that hurts. Sometimes, if there’s a lot of pain, the egg will break afterwards because it’s absorbed so much. Sometimes you need more than one egg if it’s really bad.

They also do this with guinea pigs. If a person is really sick, they have a guinea pig run all over your body to absorb your pain. Sometimes the guinea pig dies afterwards if the sickness is really bad (fingers crossed it doesn’t come to this with me).

I gotta say, though, my head no longer hurts so don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. I’d say this topic deserves it’s own entry. Until next time. LOVE YOU!

Un abrazo,

Kimberly

Wait, What Just Happened?

Welp, I’m really in it now. Been walkin’ around, lookin’ around and I. am. in it. All I’m saying is that this morning I went out back and on the same line on which we hang our laundry, I saw a filleted fish dangling amongst the newly washed shirts and socks. That’s all I’m saying.

I’ve been in my permanent site for a little over two weeks now and everything is new and different and weird and exciting. I have a new host family, and after just 2 weeks I can honestly say they are wonderful people and I feel so lucky to have been placed with such an amazing family. My host mom’s name is Margarita and she’s about 60 years old and an exceptional cook, which is extremely impressive given that she makes all of our meals on a teeny gas stove or out back in pots over coals or wood. She’s an artisan who weaves sombreros with her fingers, intricate, giant sombreros that take her 10 days to make. She is the sweetest lady ever, worries about me wherever I go and last night at dinner it was just her and me and she started crying while she told me how she never in her life imagined that she would have a person from another country living in her house and that she considered me part of her family and how much she hoped I would feel loved and comfortable here. My heart just about burst.

I also have a host sister, Lorena, and a host brother, Roberto, who live in the house and are around my age and have been so helpful in everything. There are few other brothers and sisters who live in town and come over all the time and have kids of their own, so I’ve got a lot of little baby nieces and nephews running around as well.

I’ve been working on getting my room set up and in doing so have had to do a lot of superhero activity, such as getting furniture back to my house via public transportation in a third world country and painting the 12-foot walls of my room using an old wooden ladder on a tile floor propped up against the weight of my bed keeping my fingers crossed that it didn’t slide out from under me while I painted the trim. Who does that? I do. The other day I assembled furniture with both hinges AND wheels. I am feeling extremely self-impressed. More to come on my house and life, I’ve got so much to tell! I’ll try to get pictures up of my house soon too so you can see my digs. Miss you all so much. Goooo America!

Love,

Kimberly

That's Not Chicken

Yesterday, there was an earthquake and I ate guinea pig for lunch...just another typical Sunday. Sorry I haven't been keeping up with blog updates, they've been keeping us so busy here I haven't been able to write! But I vow to be more diligent from here on out. But so BIG NEWS! I got my site assignment last week and I'm headed to the coast! I will be spending the next two years in Lambayeque, which is a department in northern Peru so it's going to be HOT. My town is called Monsefú and it's 32,000 people which is a big site so I'll have my work cut out for me. It's only 15 minutes from the beach and 15 minutes from the regional capital of Chiclayo, so basically I hit the jackpot. And therefore I'm expecting visitors, this means YOU. You can google map it if you want to see where I am in the world!

I'm actually going there for a site visit on Saturday. We take an all night bus from Lima for like 15 hours (totally normal here) and then arrive in Lambayeque to meet the people we will be living and working with for the next two years! I'm super excited and nervous to meet my new host family but they sound swell on paper. Should be an awesome and awkward time. I'll be only a three hour bus ride from my BFF Mandy's site which is basically like 20 minutes in Peru travel time so we're feeling pretty good about that. The post office here has been on strike for like ever (there's always someone on strike in Peru) so if you've sent me something and I haven't reported that I've got it that's why. SUPPOSEDLY they're going back to work on August 5th though so I'll get back to you on that. Oh also, I noticed there was an old man living in the room across from me in my house for the first time two days ago. I've been living here for two months. There are THAT many people living in this house. MISS AND LOVE YOU ALL!

Un abrazo,
Kimberly

Dance Dance REVOLUTION

Yesterday I went to a giant soccer, volley ball, and basketball tournament that had teams of kids from 5 different churches playing against each other, and also I became a celebrity. My host brothers and sisters played in the soccer and volley ball games and let me tell you the competition was FIERCE. It was an all day event and there were literally hundreds of people. Then, they ended it with a dance competition and asked ME to judge it!!! I was so scared but it was so awesome. I watched all 5 groups and gave them scores in various categories, and then announced the winners over the microphone to hundreds of people IN SPANISH to raucous cheers. It was so exhilarating. They introduced me as a dance teacher from the United States even though I told them I wasn’t. I got A LOT of applause in my introduction, way more than the two other priest guys who were judging with me. I feel so famous. And I have video.

Also my trip to Lima last weekend was THE BEST! A couple of my Peace Corps brahs and I went to the beach (it was actually sunny, which it never is in Lima) and climbed out onto these rocks that jutted way out into the ocean and just kicked it and watched the sunset over miiiiles of ocean and sand and city and got so Peace Corps with it. Then we went to a restaurant and had awesome ceviche and then went to a discoteca and danced the night away, like legit Latin style dancing. Uh if I were anymore Peruvian right now it would kill me.

Oh and also, a few days ago I put on my running shoes and there was a giant cricket the size of a ring pop in it. I mean these dudes are huge, like make an audible pop noise when you squish them. Unfortunately my foot was all the way there before I noticed. Moral of the story, always check your shoes for crickets.

Nos vemos,

Kimberly

Drinking for Jesus

I’ve been putting off writing about this because I still can’t include pictures to accompany this story and I feel like my descriptions will not do it justice, but the tale must be told. The weekend before last I went to a party in my neighborhood (Chacrasana) and it was the greatest thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life. The party was celebrating Corazon de Jesus. I have no idea what Corazon de Jesus is supposed to be about, but I assume it must have something to do with fireworks, dancing, and beer, because that’s what this party was about.

For starters, there was a stage with a million giant speakers on it in a little tiny neighborhood blasting music (ranging from traditional Peruvian to techno) until literally 6 am. The stage with the band on it had a backdrop of a giant picture of Jesus’s face, easily the size of a highway billboard. In front of Jesus’s face was a basically naked gogo dancer doin’ her thing, because obviously those two things go together.

I have never seen so many fireworks in my life, nor have I ever been in such close proximity. After the initial blast off of 4^th of July style fireworks sent off in all directions right in the middle of the crowd, (literally they were sent straight above us so you had to run and duck for cover and hope for the best), we got our first glimpse of the toros locos. Toros locos are life-sized puppet type things in the shape of cows/bulls rigged with fireworks. Every half hour or so the music would stop and different men would take turns running straight through the crowd holding these things on their heads spraying professional grade fireworks off in all directions all over people. Like there were babies and mothers and a ton of drunk people in the crowd but it turns out they’re cool with it, and so was I.

The schedule was basically dancing, dangerous fireworks, dancing, dangerous fireworks, more dancing, more dangerous fireworks. Until 6 in the morning. It was awesome. There were also giant statue things like the size of bulldozers rigged with crazy fireworks that I can’t even describe. Some would shoot off halos of fire into the air (which obviously came straight down into the crowd) and that’s when you’d really have to be on your A game to avoid injury. There was also this amazing traditional dance performed by some teenagers from the neighborhood wearing like yellow and purple bedazzled bull fighter costumes and doing the most awesome dance moves to Peruvian mountain music. AMAZING.

Uh man, I wish you could have seen it, it was so incredible. Like this is the reason I joined Peace Corps. Not really but you know what I mean. Pictures to follow.

Un abrazo,

Kimberly

Adventures on the Combi

Today, a drunk man on the combi (bus-ish) tried to sell us raw meat from a yellow plastic grocery bag that he was carrying. He picked up a slab of raw meat, I believe it was pork of some kind, with his bare hands and asked us how much we would pay for it in the United States. And he was indignant when we were uninterested in his meats for sale via yellow plastic grocery bag. This man actually spoke a good amount of English, but unfortunately had meat pieces on his face and all over his clothes which made me think he might be somewhat unprofessional. I mean usually people selling raw meat on a bus are extremely professional so he’s going to need to step up his game if he’s going to make it in this business. I cannot wait to see what I’m offered next on the combi, although I have a hard time seeing how it could get much better than that.

I’m also existing on a diet of 100% carbs. I’m talkin’ white bread and starch, y’all. This morning mi mama gave me chocolate cake for breakfast. Most of my breakfasts consist of white bread and sugar spread, like literally caramelized sugar and milk made into a spread, it’s delicious but I’m pretty sure my doctor wouldn’t recommend it. I’ve also had milk with oatmeal in it as the drink for quite a few mornings. Nothing like having breakfast and washing it down with a nice glass of oatmeal… Honestly though it’s pretty good, very sweet. But nothing like the way we think of oatmeal back in the US of A (obviously, since they’re using it for a beverage). If it weren’t for the giant hill I have to walk up everyday I’d be in serious trouble. I actually went running for the first time today though and ran so fast and felt like I could run for 60 miles, and honestly I think it’s probably due to all this unitentional serious carbo-loading I’ve been doing. So, I have that going for me. Anyhow, everyday is a new adventure and I seriously can’t wait to see what happens next! Oh also we're going to REAL Lima on Saturday!! I'M SO FRIKKEN PUMPED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Besos,

Kimberly

Screw Cold Showers, I’m Switching to Buckets.

Ok so after only 2 cold showers, I’ve made an executive decision to never take one again. Seriously there is no way you can wash off even 50% of the soap when you’re that eager to get out of the water. And it's winter here (by winter I mean 70s during the day but it legit gets cold at night). So I am now officially a bucket bath participant, which I didn’t think I would be so quickly but just trying to get down like the locals, ya dig? And honestly it’s so much better – I literally fill a bucket up half way with cold water and then boil water on the stove and add it to it. Hilarious. Just to be clear, I am not standing in a bucket nor am I using dirty water over and over again. I say this because that is initially how I envisioned this activity. But that's gross and you all know how I feel about germs. I'm not THAT Peace Corps yet. Pero en realidad, you stand in a shower next to the bucket of clean water and scoop it on you like mini waterfalls. Peace Corps, bro.

And about my Spanish…Spanish is hard. Like at the training center I understand casi todo, but speaking to my family is a whole other matter. First of all, the speak very quickly and softly and the end of their sentences drop off so I often have a deer in the headlights look after they’ve completed whatever they’re trying to say to me. I feel like an idiot most of the time but I’m just going with it – gotta learn sometime! And besides language barriers lead to hilarious misunderstandings. There are many things I say and that my family says to me that are completely lost in translation. The other night I didn’t get dinner because when my host mom asked me if I wanted anything I said no, thinking she meant like right that instant. I later realized she meant for dinner in general but was way too embarrassed to renig on that so I decided it was best to go to bed hungry and save face. Good decision or great decision?

Also, things are more expensive here than I thought, or could just feel that way on my Peace Corps budget. Last week I went crazy and bought shampoo, conditioner, and soap and totally broke the bank. I mean, who do I think I am buying soap??? So snobby. But anyhow, I’m having a frikken amazing time getting to know all of my fellow volunteers, it’s such a cool group of people, and exploring all the neighborhoods around the training center and my own barrio.

Hasta pronto!

Kimberly

I MADE IT!

Hola Compadres! ESTOY EN PERU!!!!!!! Finally! It was a long time coming but all signs so far point to it definitely being worth the wait. My epic Peace Corps journey began almost 2 weeks ago in Georgetown for staging, after which I had my last American meal consisting of buffalo wings from Rhino Bar (obviously) with Danielle Zuralow and Brittany Ryan, two of my favorite people who I’m counting on to hold down the fort while I’m gone. Dominos isn’t going to order itself, Brittany.

So anyway, I’ve been in Peru for the last 11 days. The first two I spent at a “retreat” center with the rest of my fellow Voluntarios from Peru 19 (that’s the name of our “class” slash volunteer group because we are the 19^th group of volunteers to come into Peru since Peace Corps re-entered the country) but literally we were like enclosed in a compound of Americans and didn’t leave the whole weekend, so I didn’t actually enter what I consider to be real Peru until last Sunday, when I met my host family and found out where I’m going to live for the next 3 months for training in Lima – and by Lima I mean like an hour outside the main city. 

My host family is so nice! No little kids which I was kind of hoping for, but there are at least 10 people living in this house with me, including my host mama y papa, 6 host brothers and sisters ages 16 to 31, the oldest sister’s husband who lives upstairs with her, my host grandmother (mi abuelita), and also a few aunts who I’m not sure if actually live here or are just here a lot. Either way it’s a lot of people coming and going and I’m totally into it. There are also two dogs living in the house, as well as a rabbit and a giant cage full of guinea pigs on the roof, which unfortunately I think we eat. Yeah. 

Mi abuelita is the cutest little old lady I have ever seen in my life. She is exactly how I pictured a Peruvian grandmother to be – number one she looks to be about 150 years old, she’s way under 5 feet tall, has two long gray and black braids down her back, and wears full traditional skirts. I gotta get some pictures up because it’s just too good to be true. Every time she walks by me she rubs her hands down my hair and face because she has automatic love for me. 

I live in the neighborhood of Chacrasana which is nice because there are about 10 other volunteers living on the same street (Chacrasana is all one street). My first day with my host family consisted of a giant lunch of rice, potatoes, and spicy chicken (this has been most of my meals so far actually), watching the Peru vs. Uruguay soccer game with the fam, followed by a two hour nap, dinner (rice, potatoes, chicken), and a spectacular rendition of Brave Heart dubbed in Spanish. I have to say I’m really impressed with the dubbing of American films here, impeccable work. So all and all not too shabby of a Sunday, eh? Oh by the way, my house for these 3 months of training has electricity, running water, AND the internet. No hot water but I need to have something uncomfortable or I would feel like I was cheating.

I also received my first “nice insult” very early on, like day 2 – Peruvians are known for being extremely blunt and political correctness just isn’t really a thing here. So on the “Combi” (the bus/van they use for public transportation) a man moving by said “perdon, flaquita”, which means “excuse me, skinny girl”. So fingers crossed I keep getting that one and this steady diet of rice and potatoes doesn’t change that to “perdon, gordita”. Only time will tell. I do have to walk up a mile-long giant hill, which to me is more like a mini mountain, everyday to walk from the bus stop to my house so that should help. All of Chacrasana is on one giant hill street. It’s also surrounded by mountains on all sides, so kind of like a mini mountain valley surrounded by bigger mountains. Again, I need to get some pictures up so you can see what I’m talking about. ANYWAY so much more has happened since then but I want to start from the beginning, I’ll try to write regularly now that I’ve got this thing up and know where the best internet café in town is (I’m integrating). I miss and love you all back home and I will keep you posted! Write me in any form – email, comments here, or (gasp!) REAL mail! I can give you the address if you’re interested – so let’s keep in touch. I LOVE YOU!

Love, Kimberly