Fiestas Patrias

lots of Peruvian flags

In the past few weeks, Perú has been blooming with red and white on every street and lamppost, as all the households and businesses put up at least one Peruvian flag in preparation for the Fiestas Patrias, which happened the 28th of July, the day San Martín helped Perú win independence from Spain. In the hospital schools where I work, we’ve been doing patriotic learning activities like Peru-themed painting and composition contests and celebrations of the costa, sierra, and selva. On the radio, patriotic songs come on once in a while.

Other than being a nice educational tool, the Fiestas are an excuse for lots of partying (true to the most common English translation of the word ‘fiesta’) and also lots of family vacations. In Cusco, where I was, cannons and fireworks went off during the day, as well as large music and dance celebrations in the central squares, while nightclubs were jammed packed at night with locals, vacationing Peruvians, and gringos like myself visiting Machu Picchu. A little after midnight the night before/of the 28th in a bar/disco on the Plaza de Armas, the cumbia/reggaeton suddenly ended, and a very traditional-sounding song came on. I soon realized, as the Peruvians around me burst into loud, exuberant, over-dramatized and emotional drunk singing, that this was the Peruvian national anthem. As the Peruvians waved their beers and swayed with their arms around their friends, flags waved on the balcony and red and white balloons bounced around the revelers. A few minutes later, some peruanos asked my friend and I to dance, which was fine, except that soon after Single Ladies came on, and I couldn’t do all the fun choreography because they had not seen the music video, and because Beyoncé is not very Peruvian.

VIVA EL PERU GLORIOSO

CUSCO

Anyways, the point of this post is that I’m kind of a sucker for cheesy patriotic things, and very much influenced and entranced  by the magical phenomenon of collective effervescence.

Flojera

For the past few weeks, I have been plagued with an intense flojera for writing in this blog, and I feel a little (but not too) guilty about it, because I have done some pretty cool things like gone sandboarding and to Machu Picchu, learned to dance festejo and seen pretty nighttime fountains (note change of header photo) and not written about them, which means that I probably forgot a lot of the little interesting things I thought or did at the time. Anyways, it doesn’t matter too much, I guess, because I have been rather busy getting over swine flu (informally diagnosed by myself, for more information see previous posts) and struggling with conflicting emotions of a foreigner in a foreign land. Furthermore, my host mom managed to borrow a guitar for me, which means that much of my free time goes into sitting on my bed trying to learn bar chords and create an acoustic version of Umbrella, rather than sitting on my bed and writing unnecessary comments about my menstrual cycle on this blog.

Anyways, the news now is that sadly, and happily, I only have a little over a week left in this wonderful country, which has been unceasingly filled with surprises. I guess I am a little homesick, because when I woke up this morning and saw the glowing Limeñan sun desperately trying to shine through a thick gray blanket of smog and clouds (like it has done nearly every day for the past month), I could not help but lie for half an hour awake in my warm alpaca blankets and think about sunny Ann Arbor and meals that are not fried and have no potatoes in them. I have also officially crossed some type of threshold, as the past weekend in Cusco I bought most of my souvenir/presents for friends and family, an activity which I had been saving for the end of my trip.

Even as I daydream about going home however, I’m really sad to leave this country, especially when I go to work. It feels like I’ve been here for a long time, because things are familiar and I am no longer eager and uncomfortable all the time, but it also feels like I have just gotten here, as the days I have left with the kids in each place slowly shrinks from 2 to 1 to none. I’m so happy that I’ve gotten this opportunity to meet all these beautiful children, who are just overflowing with love to give, but my heart aches a little every time I think about how after one week, I will most likely never see them again. And it aches even more, with guilt and some regret, when I think about how in a few months, they will most likely have retreated into the realm of the almost forgotten as I salsa dance the nights away in Cuba, because I’m unfortunately very good at almost forgetting people. And who would ever want to almost forget these beautiful, brave, happy faces?

Mangeando

Juerga (slang): mangear is to work/perform/sell stuff on the streets asking for mangos, which is the equivalent of 1 sol, a big bronzish moneda. I learned this yesterday from my Peruvian big bro, Ricardo, who is 28, graying, an artist/art therapist, and as of last night lives in Barranco, bohemian headquarters of Lima.

The terms “street artist” and “street vendor” take on new meanings in Perú. Sure, you have the little carts on street corners selling refrescos y chicharrones, the flautists/guitarists playing in Barranco with their upside down hats. However, “street” in Perú does not only mean “on the sidewalk, or by the street,” when talking about vendors or artists, this includes the actual street, and the buses that run on the actual streets. At a busy intersection, it is not uncommon to see vendors swarming the streets in between cars stopped for red lights, selling everything from newspapers to mini-action figures that grow when put in water. My first day in Lima, I saw an old man dancing by a bus window trying to sell Inca Kola; a few days later, I saw a man breakdancing in the pedestrian crosswalk while the cars in front of him waited for a green light (I half expected him to flip onto the hood of a car, or otherwise get run over, because the concept of right of way doesn’t really exist here); a few days ago in Arequipa I saw a man juggling knives and fruits in the middle of a traffic jam. All of this was very interesting and different, but it didn’t really surprise me all that much. Yesterday, however, the boundary of “street” was pushed even farther. I was on the bus on the way home from work, it was relatively empty (there were only 3 or 4 people standing), and someone climbed on and started to give a speech. Turns out, he had prepared a rather eloquent persuasive essay to encourage people to buy what seemed like a completely useless thingy that helped with stringing needles. Two blocks later, after finishing his spiel and walking around the bus making sales, he hopped off. Almost immediately after, a blind man stumbled onto the bus, and I was on the verge of giving up my seat to him, when he took out a Peruvian flute and started to play (pretty horribly, unfortunately). He finished, and gave a little speech about how he was using music to survive, and walked around the bus with a small collection bag, and got off. A little while later, a young hip looking guy with a guitar and traditional flute-thing hopped on and started to sing, and play the two instruments simultaneously. He was actually pretty good comparatively, but it was really loud and abrasive. Afterwards, he gave a little spiel about how we should all support Peruvian music and Peruvian culture, walked around waving a hat in our faces, and hopped off with a little wave of gratitude to the driver. After he left, the driver turned on the radio, and there were no more street mango-ers. I thought about how strange it was that the bus driver and cobrador were so cool with it, letting the street artists/vendors ride their bus for free (something like this would never happen without a fuss in China), but I guess super-resourceful and somewhat collaborative mangeando is just what you get when there’s poverty and stuff like that in a country.

DIA 3…Barranco y Embajada

vista del mar from barranco

Today is día 5. Today I arrived at the house at about 6:15–truly a record. For the first time, I am not half asleep while writing this. I even feel a little self-conscious.

bueno. día 3, miércoles. we met very early, at 8:15 at the Starbucks en el Parque Central de Miraflores. I was late, so I practically ran, which was not great news because I wasn’t sure of the way but I got there panting and realized that I was not the latest. Cultural lesson: when they say that in Latin America, time is more fluid, they mean that in Latin America, time is more fluid. Anyways, after that we went to the US embassy, and basically had a round table discussion/info session with some of the foreign service workers at the embassy, including the Deputy Ambassador guy (something high level and important–he showed me where the bathroom was), and lots of other high profile sounding people. It was actually extremely interesting–I learned a lot about US foreign policy and some of my preconceived notions of foreign policy were reinforced–but anyhow, the thing lasted about 2-3 hours. The Peruvian embassy is gargantuan–the building is fortress-like and extremely intimidating, and about 1000 people work inside (700 of which are Peruvians), it is one of the biggest embassies in the area. The most interesting discrepancy between Peruvian perspectives on Peru’s problems and American perspectives on Peru’s problems was that the US overall approves of Alan Garcia because of similar economic ideology (ie free trade, trade with the US) whereas most Peruvians disapprove of Garcia. Also, it seems like Peru is one of US’s strongest allies in Latin America, and it is one of the fastest growing (if not the fastest growing) economies in Latin America, but it is also home of the worst education, and most gaping inequalities. Hmm. We also heard from the department of narcotics on eradication of coca production (Peru is the second largest exporter/producer or something of cocaine), from USAID, PeaceCorps, and stuff like that. Anyways, it was far too long, one guy from this department would talk, take questions, then another guy from some other department would talk, and take questions, and on and on and on and in the beginning it was extremely interesting, but by the second hour I was tired, thirsty, and needed to pee like a racehorse. Of course, by the end of this, I also had forgotten Spanish completamente, because we were on US soil, and all the people we talked to were estadounidenses. Bueno.

After this lovely little chat we went to Barranco, the bohemia of Lima, where all the artists are and whatnot. I went in Patricia’s car, which was lovely and filled with laughter, except that I thought I was going to die about half the time and throw up the other half, because I was in bitch seat with no seat belt, and Patricia drives LOCAMENTE. Traffic in Lima is terrible, and we nearly ran over about 10 people, and to top it all off, once in a while, Patricia would take her hands off of the wheel (while driving, of course) to enhance our conversation with hand gestures. A los latinos les gusta hablar con las manos. Anyways. Barranco, and it was very pretty–que lindo–we saw the sea and some nice yellow buildings, and had lunch at a cheap little place, where I ate lomo saltado, which is a famous peruvian dish of beef, onions and french fries, and it was very yummy except that the beef was really chewy, like bubble gum, but the entire meal only cost 7 soles, which is about 3 dollars, so I thought it was okay.

After that we went to the Universidad del Pacifico and had a presentation about Villa El Salvador from a company called Inti-Quilla, which we were going to visit the next day. Then, we had a round table discussion with some Peruvian students about Peruvian politics, economics, and “development” and whatnot, which was kind of cool, I guess, but I really would rather have talked about normal life. Also it was kind of annoying because we had talked so much about that shit already, it was like–I get the point, Peru is a developing country, full of inequality, and development needs to be sustainable and whatnot. But really. I don’t want to go somewhere looking for poverty in all corners, and return home smiling on one side and shaking my head in pity on the other–I’d rather just see what I see. And of course, I am rather pessimistic in general about “development,” and it was difficult to communicate this in Spanish, which was also frustrating.

By the time this little chat was over, it was about 6pm, but we couldn’t go, no we had to meet with the supervisors in our programs for another two hours. Of course, we were exhausted, from 5 hours of lecture and 2 hours of talking in spanish, so it was the perfect time to be introduced to our bosses. But luckily for me, Soledad and Marisol, who came from Aprendo Contigo, were wonderful, so sweet, they spoke very clearly, are going to take good care of me, and I think I communicated relatively well, because its easily to have a more intimate conversation then talk about politics in a group of 20.

Later, much later, Charo drove us home, but her car broke down about 20 blocks from my house, in front of Alejandra’s hotel, and it was already dark, but one of the guys was cabellero enough to walk me home, which I felt a little bad about at the time because it was late and I knew everyone was exhausted, but today I heard that Peruvian men are always taking care of the women around them, are extremely chivalrous, Patricia said that whenever she was out with guy friends she never ever has to worry about having an empty glass or anything because the men take care of her, and now I don’t feel so bad. I hope these American boys learn something from their Peruvian counterparts.

street musician in barranco

Intro–PERÚ

Dog in random Limeñan street

Bueno, como la última vez que escribí estuve demasiada cansada, ahorita voy a hacer un poquito de Introduction to this blog.

Well, basically I am writing a blog because my memory is terrible, and I am doing cool things that I want to remember. Also synthesis is always good or whatever, and as I have decided after a grueling internal battle not to suppress the exhibitionist inside me, I’m putting it online.

So. the cool things I will be doing/am already doing are frolicking in PERU, or Lima, to be more exact. I’m here for a couple of months doing a pasantía, or internship with Aprendo Contigo, an organization of hospital classrooms which works to bring normality into the lives of long-term hospitalized children. Yes, I know, how altruistic of me. Of course, I am also living practically for free for this time, minus travel to places like Macchu Picchu of course, pero de verdad es una oportunidad bueníssima para mí.

The real real reason I am in Peru is para mejorar mi castellano, para que cuando vaya a Cuba el próximo semestre, no voy a ser completamente horrible. Basically, in two months I’m going to Cuba to study at la Universidad de la Habana until diciembre, and as Cuban Spanish is notoriously difficult to understand, I wanted practice. Ya. But really, now that I’m in Perú I love it, my roommate Emily, how wise she is, was right, I am falling in love with the country, the food, the people, todos.

My flight to Lima was pretty okay, except for the fact that it was awful, because I had to do seat request because the airline oversold, and I almost didn’t have a seat on the plane to Lima, and because it was the second day of the worst period of my life, and there were literally buckets of blood gushing from my vagina, so that by the end of the day despite changing tampons and pantiliners as frequently as possible on an international flight my panties and jeans had big embarrassing splotches of crimson, and because I arrived in Lima at like midnight, and went to bed at 2:30 and had to wake up at seven the next day and then walk all over Lima until like 8 at night and BUENO–la cosa es que estuve y todavía estoy MUY cansada.

So, that was Day 0 in a nutshell, and now onto day 1 in a nutshell. Mi familia peruana es bueníssima, Alicia, mi mamá peruana, is the sweetest thing in the world, and peruvians love kissing, and honestly, being a somewhat naturally over- affectionate (or perhaps affection-starved) person, I kind of like this custom. So we met at la Universidad de Pacifico at 9, with Charo, Patricia, y Alejandra, the coordinator people. In the morning we had a basic, general orientation about stuff, and then a little dance show of traditional coastal, sierra, y selva danzas, and then lunch, my first real peruvian meal, que fue riquíssima. We had causa con pollo, pollo arroz y verduras, un postre de arroz con leche y algo morada, y a peruvian drink call chicha morada, which is made of purple corn. Then, we went on a mini city tour del centro de Lima, in the historic, old center with all the pretty colonial buildings and whatnot. We saw the plaza mayor, churches, catacombas (many bones, very sinister and creepy), and etc. The highlight of the day were las escobas de San Martín–a peruvian Saint of brooms. Outside the church in which his relics (including a skull) lay, there was a small booth selling various little religious items and among them were these tiny brooms the size of my index finger, little charms to protect the bearer. And when I saw them I was taken a little off guard, and I started feeling like I should feel sentimental or sad, because those were the same little brooms that my grandfather once made through some weird internet thing when he lived in the United States. And I remember thinking at the time, why in the world was he making tiny little brooms, who would ever want them, but there they were, in front of my eyes, ten years later. And then I started thinking about how I would write in my blog that I went to Peru chasing after some nebulous future, and unexpectedly discovered a piece of my past, but now I realize that that sounds kind of cheesy and personal-statement-y. Anyways, it was a distinct moment, the most distinct  moment of the day. My grandfather has been dead for a while now, by the way.

As for other things of the day, bueno, I ran into a dressed dog in the middle of the street, very randomly, and took a picture that I like of some kids feeding pigeons (palomas) in San Francisco’s Church/square thing, where there are thousands of pigeons because San Francisco was the protector of animals.

After the city tour, we got dropped off at Larcomar, and then Charo walked us back to our casas, which were pretty close, but since the road was new and we were exhausted, seemed like a really long time. Then I ate a palta, or avocado, with un pancito (little bread) for dinner, and went to bed.

Day 2: Lima (will put up day 1 and day 0 later, when am more awake)

6.16.09

My father’s birthday, y qué estupida estaba yo, he was on Skype, I called, and was so tired that I completely forgot what day it was. My mother had to send me an email to remind me. Bad Gracie.

Today we had 4 conferencias (lectures) and one lunch en el barrio chino—in una Chifa—I ordered a menú (8.5 soles~$3) of pollo enrollado, which is pollo stuffed with lechuga, chaufa (fried rice), and sopa de wantan (wonton soup). No era tanta riquíssima, pero estaba bien. De verdad, todo el tiempo I forget that I have only been here for two days. How hospitable this country is! Mi mamá peruana me da un besito cada día y cada noche, and also whenever she feels like it. Que sweet-íssima!  Cleary, I am also already forgetting my English, que es una lástima because my Spanish is pretty crappy. So, here I am, with una mezcla de crappy inglés y crappy español.

The first lecture was in English, and was extremely interesting.  Se trató de <<la situación política actual en el Perú>> and it was given by a profesora se llama Cynthia Sanborn, who teaches at la Universidad del Pacifico, adonde estuvimos, and also worked with Prof Steve Levitsky in Harvard. Please remind me to take a class of his when I return next January. I don’t have la energía to synthesize everything right now en una manera interesante—como no tengo la energía de quedarme en inglés o español—but I would like to make a short bullet-style list of things I learned, because they were truly were muy interesantes, y no quiero forget them, as I have established that I have a horrible memory.  Bueno, una lista: the discrepancies and paradoxes of Perú—Perú is one of the fastest growing and richest countries of Latin America, but is also one of the most unequal places in the world. About 50% of peruanos viven en la pobreza, and education in Perú is malíssima, the second to last in Latinoamerica—better only than Haiti. There is un montón de discrimination in many directions—discrimination de race, de gender, y de origins. Especialmente, la cosa de la “indigena” is very touchy, and among Peruvians the term “indio” is derogatory, associated automatically with poverty, poor education, y de todas maneras cosas uncivilized. También the term “indígena” es algo muy complicada – que es verdaderamente una indígena? This is something that is not well defined, but more and more needs to be, because of policies that pertain to indigenous people. It seems like one of the most important factors is language—if someone grows up in a Quechua-speaking household, they will most likely be considered indigenous. Pero, in surveys of self-identity, there is a great range—6-42% self-identify as indigenous, and this discrepancy is due to the discrimination. As the majority of peruanos son mestizos, and the majority of indigenas are también mestizos, because they are not pure descendants of the Incas or anything, it is easy for successful indios, who speak castellano and live in a city, to self identify as mestizo rather than indigenous, something that seems to be very common across the world (that is, to shed embarrassing rural or poor origins in a new life to maintain a good image). Also, I found this part fascinating because it is the intersection of las sciencias sociales y las sciencias naturales—race and ethnicity are both cultural and genetic, and por eso, muy complicados, especially when thinking about policies and legal crap. Que más? I learned a little more about Fujimori, and his daughter, who is the current frontrunner (though not by much at all) of the upcoming elections with 25% of the vote. The current president, Alan García, has very very  low approval ratings, and was only voted in with  24% of the vote, because he was considered the “lesser of two evils.” In general, Peruvians seems very jaded and pessimistic about la situación política. García has a policy that really plays to the wealthy—his approval ratings in the rich are something like 75% while they are ~30% in the rest of the population. The current situation in the Amazon is a good example of why. Also, voting in Peru, like in many países latinoamericanos, is obligatory, which I actually think is brilliant. Cynthia Sanborn, though she gave a lot of very interesting and valuable information, seemed very strictly North-American, estadounidense, en sus pensamientos politicos. Like many Americans, she perhaps overemphasizes the importance of democracy and human rights. !Ojo!—la palabra overemphasize—of course I think democracy and human rights are extremely importantes, but sometimes some people overdo it.

After this lecture, we had a little presentation de DEMUS—Estudios para la Defensa y los Derechos de la Mujer—de María Isabel Cedano, which for me was really pretty stupid, but whatever. Feminist movements are always a little distasteful—maybe I am being muy machista, but really I didn’t understand why we were learning about sexual abuse in our second day in Peru. From María we also got some funny little souvenirs—two boxes of incendiarios (matches) with pictures of sex offenders and words saying “Watch out this guy is a sex offender” on them, which were really a little funny.

Después, fuimos a la ILD—el Instituto Libertad y Democracia—where we learned about the economic ideas of Dr. Hernando de Soto, who has been called the most important economist in the third world, from a man named Victor Endo, who looked part Japanese. This was a very interesting talk también, it dealt with systems extralegales, and mucha gente pobre que vive afuera de una campana de vidrio—a bell jar, or tal vez major, a glass jar. Hernando de Soto’s idea is that capitalism works very well for countries like the United States but not so well for many other countries because the United States grew from a foundation which emphasized strongly property rights, and cosas legales, de papeles, and came with a legal system that includes everyone. The problem with many developing countries is that many people live outside of the world of paper, of de jure, that too many people live off of things that are de facto. This land is mine because I am here! No, I don’t have any proof or paperwork, but I gave the guy who owned it before me the money, I’ve been living here for years, and all my neighbors recognize this as mine. But the problem with this is, of course, that in the “first” world, the world of negocios, people don’t exist, solo existe the paperwork that legitimizes them. When I am pulled over by the police, I am not me, I am my driver’s license, my registration, etc. When I enter an airport, I am not me, I am my pasaporte. When I enter a shopping mall, I am not me, I am my credit card. So, land that I am living on also is not land if I don’t have a piece of paper that says so. This seems like a big part of the problem in la selva de Peru hoy en día, but surprisingly, and ironically, ILD are not working with this problem, because they only start a project when the government asks for their help, and the last thing García wants is property rights for las personas que viven en la selva, ?no?

Then, we ate at a chifa, pide pallidas de chino, tocamos unas fotos chistosas, y fuimos al Banco Central de Perú, where we had a presentation on inflation in Perú which was so esoteric and boring that 3 out of 6 of us fell asleep,  and the minute we left the building, even the coordinators of the program were talking about how “dura” the lecture was. Then we visited a small museum which was also un poco aburrido, and went home. The van dropped us off in el parque central de Miraflores, and I walked home. It was already 8-something, and very dark, but I walked halfway with a guy who lives close to me, and the rest by myself. I was a little scared, and very glad to make it home safely, especially because everyone has been scaring me about how peligrosa Lima is, how never to go anywhere alone at night, especially since I’m a girl (a really weak one at that, with no chance of successful self-defense). I stopped in a pharmacy and bought shampoo and conditioner, and then went home, where I had a wonderful dinner of soufflé de asparagus, swordfish—pez de espada, dragonfruit, and that Peruvian drink with the purple corn. Bueno, ahora estoy muy cansada y voy a acostarme.