Just so we're all on the same page

I hate the Transformer movies.  In Spanish especially.

That’s all.

My name is Senorita (Written Dec. 1st, 2013)

My name is Kassel Claire Galaty.  That is a mouthful in Spanish however, so I shortened it to Keisi (KC) Galaty.  Then some Peruvian children laughed when I said my last name is Galaty, so, lest I make some scandalous joke in Quechua, I don’t offer up the Galaty unless asked.  But I can count on one hand the number of occasions I have been actually called Keisi.  My name is Senorita.  La Senorita is my full title. Gringa is my nickname.

I just thought I should let you all know of my name change.  Here are some pictures of Peruvian children and sheep.

Besos!

Yemelly, age 8, Giselle, age 5, and Fausto, age 5, in the midst of constructing the alphabet floor carpet

I taped posters to the wall as they worked.  This picture will be making its way into one of my official informes as it just screams "Look! I'm working"

I just died, they were so excited about the pictures

Like so excited.

My life now.

Has a sheep ever looked so heroic?

Late afternoon as the sun shines its rays, beautiful scenery to follow.  Captions unnecessary if you ask me.

Grumpy Ranting Blog (Written Nov. 28th, 2013 AKA THANKSGIVING)

So today I was supposed to go on my host sister’s field trip to Yungay (no idea if that’s even remotely close to being right), where there’s a zoo with ostriches, monkeys, Peruvian fox-dogs, and a ton of other cool creatures, and to Acopalca, where there’s a lake, a waterfall, and another volunteer.  It was going to be a really awesome trip—that is until 3:45 when I woke up to get ready and discovered that my stomach hated the world and everything in it.  I was one sick puppy.  If you’ve got a delicate disposition or prefer not to read about a person’s bodily functions than read no further.  If you don’t mind then get set because I am grumpy.

IT IS BEAUTIFUL OUT! IT’S SEVEN AM AND THE SUN IS SHINING, THERE’S A SLIGHT BREEZE AND ITS GORGEOUS! IT’S THE MIDDLE OF RAINY SEASON AND THERE’S NO RAIN! IT’S THE PERFECT DAY FOR A ZOO AND WATERFALL OUTING AND I AM ALTERNATING BETWEEN SHITTING MYSELF SILLY AND LYING PRONE WILLING MY STOMACH TO STOP CRAMPING.  I’M FEELING GOOD ENOUGH TO RANT (AS YOU CAN TELL) BUT THE THOUGHT OF FOOD MAKES ME NERVOUS AND NAUSEOUS.  THE RIGHT SIDE OF MY JAW ACHES FROM MY THROWING UP MARATHON EARLIER AND THERE’S NO CELL SERVICE IN MY ROOM.  IF IT WAS RAINING OUT, THIS WOULD BE THE PERFECT SICK DAY.  I HAVE A BILLION HOURS OF TV AND MOVIES TO WATCH ON MY HARD DRIVE, BUT NO. IT’S THE BEST DAY OF THE YEAR AND I’M NOT AT THE ZOO OR THE WATERFALL.

I’m done. The problem is that I’m starting to feel well enough that I’m doubting the decision of my 4:00 am sick self to stay home.  Even though logically I know I was right to stay, as I literally puked my goodbye to my family.  It’s like everyone is going to Multnomah Falls on the first nice day of summer without me.  Man, now I’m not just grumpy, I’m bummed.  Plus side I guess this means I’m settling in quite nicely?

All I can say is that Arrested Development better be as good as people say it is, because I sense a day of binge-watching coming my way.  And if my stomach can take it I’m breaking into the chocolates.

Besos…

Update: Definitely made the right decision as the vomiting continued.  Thank God for Cipro, that which cures all.

My First Days in Huantar (Written Nov. 26th, 2013)

I write to you beneath two wool blankets (or fresadas) on my bed (left by the previous volunteer and currently under suspicion of harboring fleas, but alas only time will tell) in my new bedroom, located on the first floor of the first house on the right at the bottom of the hill after the playground, which can be found by turning left once you reach the Plaza de Armas after passing through the entrance to Huantar and continuing straight ahead.

Currently my mind is focused on two tasks: 1) writing this blog post in an attempt to stay ahead of things and 2) paying close attention to my digestive system in case it makes any sudden movements. 

This post here will backtrack to before I swore in and fill in the very first days of my site visit and hopefully during my next two weeks here in Huantar before my regional meeting back in Huaraz I will manage to stitch together a few more, and before you know it I’ll have caught up on my life and you all will have more blog posts than you know how to contend with (or I will eat my words and get no farther than this sentence, it’s really a toss-up as nature is calling)

I made it back! I come to you now after a day of doing things in Huantar.  I think the most frustrating thing about living in a community that primarily speaks Quechua is that everytime someone starts a conversation in Quechua, I panic and think that I’ve lost all ability to understand Spanish.  It takes a sentence or two before I realize that in fact whoever is speaking is in fact speaking another language altogether. Two new Quechua words of the day: haka=arbol=tree and gocha=laguna=lake.

Since coming back to this blog post I have changed my mind and decided that this day, this post is not the one in which I will recap.  Too much has happened! And by that I mean not much has happened by normal standards.  Around nine I wandered up to the mirador, aka the official lookout point, and sat for a little, pondering what exactly I had gotten myself into.  I had this selfsame thought process when I first arrived for site visit.  A large part of me knows why I came—to work in public health, to learn Spanish, to experience another culture, to have an adventure—it’s the part that keeps me here, but there’s another part that thinks of the comfort of my life back in the US, and damn was it comfortable, and wonders why I would be willing to sacrifice that for two years.  

Case in point when, during the training session for community health promoters that I sat in on, my fingernails turned blue at the base and my muscles got that tight feeling they get when you’re cold (I think that will be the constant state for muscles for the next two years).  But in that same session I understood 85% of what was said—hell I’m going to be generous and say it was a full 90%.  That feels so good!

And then I get invited by my host family to sit in the park with them and it’s so pleasant and so peaceful and so not lonely that I feel reinvigorated. 

So as I sit on my bed, an extra sweater added to my fleece, as I listen to “Adagio for Strings” I feel happy.  I just finished off a carton for Stone Wheat Crackers from home, there’s a bag of peanut M&Ms waiting for me next Sunday as a celebration of one week down, my family is going to show me the way down the mountain tomorrow, Sunday they’ll show me the way up, and, oh yeah, my family asked me to be the madrina at my sister Lesley’s confirmation (not sure how the whole Catholic confirmee—Episcopalian madrina thing is gonna play, but I guess we’ll find out when I go to mass on Sunday).

Oh, I was just told that the cute black bunny is going to die tomorrow.  That’s a bummer.

Besos

(oh and some pictures)

View from the Peace Corps Hostel.  Yes, it is really that beautiful

My socios on Socio Day.  To the left is Luisa, in charge of Social stuff at the municipalidad, and to the right is Paola, the enfermera in charge of children's health at the Health Post

My first glance at my room during site visit.  Seen at 10:30 pm after a harrowing journey up the mountain.  The sports car driven by the 15-year-old stalled out five times.  Literally five.

My host mom and sister at the mirador in Huantar on a BEAUTIFUL day

The moon rising over the mountain, seen from the porch in my "backyard"

My "backyard"

Nicoll with the cat Pelusa

The kitchen, with my host mom Melinda (Melly) busily cooking

Yesterday I swore in

This is going to be short and sweet.  Yesterday I sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer at the Ambassador's Residence in Lima.  Speeches were made, photos were taken, food was eaten, shoulders were burned.  Celebrations included eating sandwiches, watching Catching Fire, getting Papa John's delivered, and tomar-ing some Gato.

Near midnight, my eyes started to the follow the shoreline of the Pacific to the north and I realized that if I followed it long enough, if my eyes were strong enough, I would see the Oregon Coast.  That's how close, that's how near, I am to home physically and in my heart.  I share the same coastline.

And last night, I really wished that Mara was still alive so that I could have texted her and told her that I was in Peru, that I had joined the Peace Corps, that I loved her with all my heart.

Next I'll be in the mountains of Peru.  Follow the selfsame coastline and I'll see you there.

Besos

A Peek into my Future Life!

So Wednesday was Regional Coordinator Day, meaning the day we finally found out who our host families are!  I think we're all aware of the fact that I have consistently won the Peace Corps lottery--first Peru, then my amazing host family (I haven't raved nearly enough about my host family--I will fix that promptly), then Ancash--and my luck continues to serve me well.

My family is made up of a dad, a mom, and two sisters, aged 11 and 5.  I will be the fourth volunteer in the site (finishing the service of a volunteer who ET'ed (early terminated) in May).  The second volunteer and my soon-to-be host mom were apparently best friends, such good friends in fact that my youngest soon-to-be sister was named Nicole after the volunteer.  The third volunteer, who left early for reasons apparently unrelated to her site, loved her host family (aka my host family) enough to recommend them to the next volunteer (aka me).  The family was kind enough to build a bathroom in preparation for her arrival, so I have a feeling I'm in good hands.

Guys, I cannot tell you how excited I am to have young host siblings in my new home.  How excited I am to try my new family's food, to hear their stories, to see their home, to speak terrible Quechua and passable Spanish with them!  I want to help my host sister's with their homework, play games with them, explore the town with them! I am so excited and grateful that I get to have the privilege of being welcomed into another family's home.  I can't help but think of all the students my own family has hosted over the years.  So many of whom we are still in contact with, so many of whom are reading this blog and have wished me luck on facebook and through email and in person.  Case in point, two weekends ago when I met up with Sonia Maruenda, a Peruvian from Lima, who, while not quite an exchange student, did live with my family for quite some time.

Sonia and I at her sister's apartment in Miraflores.  She was kind enough to take me around Miraflores where we toured the Peruvian equivalent to a boardwalk:

That gorgeous sculpture behind me is called "The Kiss," I assume you can figure out why. 

(It's because two giant adobe people are getting it on)

The fog-covered Pacific Ocean.  Note the famous Costa Verde plants in the foreground.

I hope I can be half the host-siblings so many of them were and I hope that my host family will be as kind and generous as my own parents have been over the years.

Phew, enough of that sentimental business (but really, thanks to everyone involved.  Let's not be shocked or surprised by the obvious influence that having so many people of different countries and cultures has had on my life.  I mean, I joined the Peace Corps for gods sake).

This Saturday is Peace Corps Thanksgiving (I'll be making my mom's stuffing--did my friend Marc and I buy enough ingredients to feed 52 people?  Only time will tell) and this Sunday I will be traveling to Ancash to do my first site visit!! Get ready for some pictures of my host family!!!

And then, before you know it, I will be swearing-in as a volunteer and heading out into the wilds of Peru.  My convenient life with Wifi will be cut asunder and god only knows when you all will hear from me next. Sacrifices must be made folks, from all of us (Just kidding Mom, I will find internet I promise).

Golly, I whipped this blog post out real fast.  Wanna know why?  Because I don't want to do my homework.  Procrastination--getting stuff done since always. (Little known fact, the world was actually supposed to be done in four days).

Besos!

Quechua

Kasselmi shutii ¿Qampaqa?

Allow me to translate.  My name is Kassel.  And yours is?

Since I'll be living and working in Ancash for the next two years, I am now taking Quechua classes.
Everyone who speaks Spanish is under the impression that English speakers have a super easy time with Quechua because in Quechua the adjective comes before the noun.  Yes, it turns out that the placement of adjectives is what really trips people up when learning new languages.

So get ready all my English-speaking readers for the easiest language lesson you've ever had!

Pronunciation guide:

• q is said in the throat, like how ch is pronounced in Hebrew
• ee is not a hard e, it is like "eh" (but only in Anchash Quechua, its different for Huancavelican Quechua and Cusco Quechua)
• j is like h
• oo is a hard o, like Cho in Cho Chang, not like choo-choo train

1 [one] = juk
2 [two] = ishkee
3 [three] = kima
4 [four] = chusku
5 [five] = pitsqa
6 [six] = joqta
7 [seven] = qanchis
8 [eight] = puaq
9 [nine] = isqon
10 [ten] = chunka

¿Imanootaq keekanki?
   --How are you?
Allim Keekaa. ¿Qamqa yameellaku keekanki?
   --I'm good. And how are you?
Aumi, noqapis yameellam keekaa
   --Yes, I am also good.

Easy-peasy.  As a reward for such diligent studying here is a picture of me, dressed as a tree for Halloween with my host mom.  Not to brag but my costume literally caused schoolchildren to come to a jaw-dropping standstill on the street.  It was like they'd never seen a gringa dressed as a tree walking down the street at eight in the morning.

Eewallee Kamakoq yayawan
   --Go with God the creator