Tuesday is the big day!

On Tuesday, October 22nd, 2013, I, Kassel Galaty, will at long last know where exactly in the grand ole country of Peru I will be living for the next two years.  [comma count: 5]

There is chisme (gossip) galore about who's going where.  Technically there are 24 possible sites I could be sent to--4 in Cajamarca, 3 in Amazonas, 3 in Huancavelica, 3 in Lambayeque, 6 in Ancash, and 5 in Piura--all of which I technically have an equal chance of going to.

But let's be real.  I got some thoughts on the matter.  I've got a sneaking (really desperate, please god let it be so) suspicion that I will be placed in the highlands where it is cold-er.  The health program seems to have more people who want hot coastal sites, so I can't see why they would waste a perfectly good coastal site on me.

There are three departments with highland sites--Cajamarca, Ancash, and Huancavelica.  I had the pleasure of visiting Cajarmarca back in September.  The trip took a solid 22 hours of in bus/car/combi transport but it brought about views such as these:

Now before my most recent trip to Huancavelica I had a feeling that I was going to be placed in this department.  After all,
1) They sent me there once already.  Why would they send me there if I wasn't supposed to fall in love with it and want to live there forever?!?!?! *
2) In an interview when I mentioned how much I liked the mountains, you know like in Cajarmarca or Ancash, the staff member interviewing me was like, "Yeah, Cajarmarca is really pretty."  Why would she have repeated Cajarmarca to me if it meant nothing?!
3) One of the PCVs I met in Cajamarca friended me.  Why would she friend me unless I was going to be living near her very soon?!?!

*In the main capital city of Cajarmarca they closed off the main square so that there could be a two-day-long international painting competition.  Priorities in the right place.  Here are some pictures of the paintings and painters:

So obviously it looked like I was going Cajarmarca.  My above logic is clearly flawless. But then came Huancavelica.

The whole health program went to Huancavelica for field-based training, so there was nothing telling about the fact that I was there--everyone else was too.  But this trip was just a week ago, during prime site speculation angst.  Volunteers were asking prying questions, staff members were dropping hints that they had no evidence to back up with, and it was an all-around intense situation.  By the end of the trip I had a certain gut feeling that I was going to be sent to Huancavelica.  After all,

1) One of the staff members said, "This is where I would send you."  Why would she say that if she didn't think that?!
2) When we were visiting one of the sites where the volunteer was going to be replaced, one of the mother's became suddenly available for a house visit, and it was decided that I would go to it, even though I wasn't the person closest to the door. Why would I go on the one-on-one house visit if this wasn't going to be my future site?!?!
3) Everyone, and I mean everyone, said that they thought it would be my site. Why would they say that unless it was a universal gut feeling?!?! *

*Answer: Because it seems like a pretty tough site and I think no one else really wants it

So for the next couple of days I processed the possible reality of me living here:

Those are genuine Peruvian alpaca.

Perhaps this was my future.  I worked to accept it.  And, come Tuesday, should it be my future, I will accept it.  I mean, are you looking at the same alpacas and sunsets as I am/was?  

But there is a little bit of me that can't shake the dream that I will in Ancash.  Ancash, a mere six-eight hours north of Lima.  Ancash, with the capital city of Huaras, also known as an awesome place to be (according to wikipedia and everyone I've ever talked to about it).  Ancash with mountains like these:

Didn't take these pictures, but wouldn't it awesome if one day I was in the place where I could?!?!

So there you have it folks.  The thoughts that have been consuming my mind for the past couple of weeks.  Site, site, site. Check back in on Tuesday, in a mere two days, to see if my predictions have come true or if I have been reading WAY too much into every inconsequential gesture I see. 

Besos!

Training is numbing my mind

Preview of my Spanish class this morning

"Como dices 'over and over'"

"Muchas veces."

"Si, pero...."

"Si?"

"Es que, creo que hay mas...como se dice 'ways'?"

"Maneras."

"Creo que hay mas maneras por...como se dice 'express'?"

"Expresar."

"Ya, es que creo que hay mas....maneras...por expresar--"

"Para."

"Para expresar, lo que quieres, en ingles, como, como se dice, 'over and over'?"

Mi brain no trabaja por nada.  Oy vey.

Picture Time!

All right folks.  Lots has happened since I last posted, in the sense that I did a little traveling, and also not a lot has happened, in the sense that I do pretty much the same thing everyday. But while I work on writing the past few weeks into scintillating and humorous tidbits for you, my dedicated readers, I will try to satisfy your curiosity with PICTURES.

Let's start with where I live:

This is my bedroom (note the neatly-made bed, made by yours truly every morning)

This is the dining room, (the seat closest to you in the frame is my seat.  It is a prime TV-viewing seat. My host brother Luis, called Phillipe, has the ideal spot at the head of the table right in front of the doors.  Is a prime TV-viewing seat an important part of my relationship with my host family?  Yes.  It is essential.  How else would I keep up with my comedic soap Al Fondo Hay Sitio [don't try to translate it, its an inside Peruvian joke]),

where I eat the delicious food my madre anfitriona (host mom) Gloria makes for me in the kitchen

Picture of my actual host family to come.  But here are three of the most important members of my host family:

The caramel blur on the left is Carmelo, who enjoys picking on and occasionally humping Napo (aka Napoleon), who is in the middle and is the son of Dunca, on the right.  I only recently discovered the trick to make them all sit still, which is to eat a piece of bread while they watch.  In case you were wondering, Dunca is my favorite.  She doesn't jump or bite, and she sits at my feet during dinner.  Plus she's shaggy and adorable.

There it is, a preview of my home here in Peru.  Here I have a family that laughs at my highly accented and broken jokes, deliberately exposes me to a myriad of Peruvian foods, and generally makes me feel loved every time I come home.  

Oh, and I finally got that picture I wanted to show you all last time.

Besos.

Arroz Con Pollo, Dead Cats, Repaired Shoes, Tomates (Que Rico), and Host Families, OH MY!

I was going to start this post with a beautiful photograph.
You see, I was walking home from my second day of training in Chaclacayo.  The training center and my host family's home is in the Andes, about an hour east of Lima.  Clouds, smoke, and smog combine every day to cover the mountains.  On a good day, its as if they are enveloped and the whole vista seems more magnificent; on a bad day they look as though asthma is imminent.  But today, at 5:30, they were perfect.  As I rounded the corner to my house, I saw the sun setting gently setting behind a cloud.  It was an orange orb, shrouded by the smoky air enough so that you could stare at it without burning your eyes.  To the left the mountainside came into focus, to the right the world seemed to fade off into nothing.  I said hello to my host father and brother and rushed to my room to turn on my inactivated cell phone.  Slowly, slowly it turned on.  I opened the camera app and as I flew through the door, the sun was gone.  I stood on the street, my smartphone uselessly in my hand as I stared at a smokey sky, even the mountain almost lost from view.

I wanted to share a picture, but my words will have to do.

That said, Peru has been awesome!  It's so weird to be experiencing a country at such a slow pace.  I've been here for five days already--with no jet lag at that!  Under any other circumstances I would be booking it to the major sites.  Hell, Machu Picchu would be summited, appreciated, photographed, and abandoned.  I would have eaten my weight in classic Peruvian dishes five times over.  The hotels and hostels would already be blurring together, and the sleep deprivation would be intense.  Instead, I've just been hanging out.  I know a little bit about my neighborhood and not much more.  I arrived in Lima around midnight and can tell you that after midnight, I am sleepy and unable to admire the view. During the day I'm busy at the training center--doing language and culture training and participating in what already seem like never-ending job trainings.  I just want t

Fun interlude: My host dad just showed me how to properly flush the toilet.  Apparently, when I flush it tends to keep running water.  Don't worry, I have now practiced and we should be in the clear. Phew!

Where was I? I just want to learn how to do everything!  There's bureaucratic red tape and lots of talk about program guidelines, and I know, I KNOW, that actually this is all sinking in and that it will help in the long run.  But right now, I want more latrine-building exercises and less talking about the mission of the Peace Corps.  (And just watch, one year from now I'm going to be posting about how the day I never dig another latrine or use another latrine will be one day too many).

So.  In order to live up to my title, let me say briefly

Arroz Con Pollo; Arroz Y Pollo; Arroz, Lentales, Y Pollo; Pollo Con Arroz.  Basically at all meals that are not breakfast, there is arroz and there is pollo.  That said, my host dad (who is cooking because my host mom is currently in Chile) has had like seven volunteers before and has been pretty reasonable with the portion sizes.  He even, to the jealousy of all other volunteers, made me a salad with lettuce, tomato, and avocado and a fruit salad with strawberries, papaya, and bananas.  Not to brag or anything, but I must have intestines of steel because I feel fine. Holla!

Definitely saw a dead cat in an empty lot on the walk home.  At first I was like, aw kitty, it's lying on its back with its paws in the air cause its playing.  Then I was like, aw poor kitty, it's stuck.  And then I was like, Nope, that's definitely rigor mortis.

So my beloved though pain the ass breaking Birkenstock sandals decided to wear out in the heel.  It may have something to do with the way I drag my feet when I walk.  Jury's still out.  Anyway, I put my thinking cap on and using the awesome Freesole glue I bought, I totally repaired the shit out of them.  I now continue to proudly wear my Birks knowing that the cork will last that much longer.

The tomatoes here are a thousand times better than in the states.  Like, we went to a fast food restaurant  for lunch (when Mom's away, the kids will play) and in the classic iceberg lettuce there were what I can only assume were heirloom tomatoes.  Did you know that tomatoes can be red the whole way through? Fire-hydrant, taste-explosion red.  I may never come back just because of the tomatoes.

You're going to be hearing a lot about my host family (at least I hope so, I'm already kind of fond of them), so I will just say that I am living it large. We have a car, indoor flush toilet, three adorable dogs, electricity, TV with cable, my own room, and oh yeah, WIFI. I'm trying not to live it up on the interwebs but I am in pretty easy contact for the next ten weeks or so.  I can hear everyone all being incredulous as to my situation, which let me say 1) a lot people train in the US, where it is pretty sweet to be I hear and 2) I hear it gets harder once you're in site. I'm going to live it up while I can.  Plus its still cold showers, so I'm toughening up one step at a time.

And on a final note, I got my language level today! I am intermedio medio--aka the level needed to be able to go out into the field as a volunteer.  While I find that super cool, I also cock my head a little at the Peace Corps expectations, because really?  I do not think I could converse well enough to convince a community to change their behaviors.  So if you are wondering, "Is my Spanish good enough for the Peace Corps?" chat me up, I'll let you know (Spoiler: the answer is yes).

Besos, y lots of love.

Let Me Be Brief and Make Just a List

Good things that happened in the past two days:

      1)      Once she heard that I was moving to Peru for two years, the woman sitting next to me on the plane from Houston to Lima offered me her phone number and told me to call her if I ever needed anything.

      2)      I’ve learned new words, like:

a.       Chicha morada—a juice made out of purple corn

b.      Betarraga—beet

c.       Vuelto—change (money)

d.      Provecho—the Peruvian phrase said to someone before they begin eating.  A Peruvian Bon Appetit, if you will.

      3)      The shower I took at the retreat we stayed at for the past two nights was perfect.  Not too cold, not too hot, and maintained by the first twist of the shower knob. 

      4)      Ashley, another Health Volunteer, led Erika, Rebby, and me in yoga under the Peruvian moon.  Instead of dwelling and worrying ourselves sick about tomorrow (when we meet our host families), we concentrated on our own energy, on the gratitude we have for being in such a beautiful country, and on our own strength and excitement for what is to come.

       5)      The Health staff introduced themselves to us with their names and talents.  Such talents included baking Peruvian desserts, with samples to try, and dancing—traditional Peruvian dancing, Peruvian salsa dancing, and dancing to the canciones de Cajamarca.  Sounds like I will be dancing.

       6)      I am here.  Safe, sound, and mindful.  

       "I exist as I am, that is enough

       If no other in the world be aware I sit content

       And if each and all be aware I sit content."

                 --From "Song of Myself," by Walt Whitman

I leave for Peru tomorrow

I am excited.
I am nervous.
I doubt myself.
I trust myself.
I am leaving for Peru tomorrow.

"Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is is what
I want. Only that. But that."

             --"Prayer" by Galway Kinnell