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