Monday, May 30, 2011
All Things New
Hello, beautiful people!
My apologies for the significant lag in my blog updates. It has been quite a week, marked by very long days of wonderful project work with my Saint Scholastica buddies and a move to a new apartment! It's been so long since I last blogged that I can't exactly remember everything I've been meaning to share, so I'm just going to try and recall what I can and hope that it develops some semblance of fluidity. I'm also hooopefully going to have a bunch of photos to share soon. I've been told that uploading pictures at the ProWorld office is a much faster process than uploading them in my house (which is no longer even an option in my new apartment--no internet--boohoo!), in which case I'll have quite a bit more photo footage to share with y'all! Anyway, without further adieu, here we go!
- I've had a seriously wonderful time with the St. Scholastica group these past two weeks. Yesterday, I was super sad when I brought them to the airport for their return to the US. (Although somewhat soothed by the fact that people were giving me presents left and right--shampoo that didn't fit in Keri's suitcase, a book and some hair mousse from Sarah, a bunch of high-quality toilet paper from Marie and John. No one at ProWorld told me about how much free stuff I'd acquire by taking on the airport drop-off responsibility!). I also had rather an interesting realization during the whole airport drop-off process. Most ProWorld groups are here for a week or two, and sometimes five or six weeks, but I get to be here for three months! What an incredible opportunity to fully immerse myself in the culture of Cusco...to become a member of the community here...to develop friendships and life experiences that can't be replaced. It's pretty neat to be dropping people off at the airport, and then being able to say goodbye and hop into a taxi and return to my apartment in Cusco. While my first few blog entries probably indicated a clear desire to get back to NJ and the USA as soon as possible, I've come to develop a fondness for Cusco, and a desire to make the very most of my time here. I am very blessed.
- My last few days of work with St. Scholastica were spent at Manos Unidas, and one day was devoted to building stoves in the same community where I worked with the students of Pittsburgh. I am going to miss Manos Unidas, and the wonderful people who work there, who have so much love for the children. I plan on getting back there a few times while I'm in Cusco. As I believe I may have mentioned, Manos Unidas is primarily able to run because of donations from supporters in the US and other countries. If you're interested in learning more about Manos Unidas, you can definitely e-mail me and I'll either tell you what I know or put you in touch with one of the directors. If you'd like to consider making a donation, just go to this link: http://www.manosunidasperu.net/id6.html. Having seen the wonderful work being done there, I can assure you that your money will be well-utilized to better the lives of some truly beautiful children. So you don't think Manos Unidas is already perfect or anything, I should mention that on my next to last day volunteering at Manos, one of the teachers asked for my help, but didn't specifically tell me what she needed me to do. Without question, I followed her, and she led me to one of the upper classrooms, where three children were supposed to be sitting at their desks and eating their snacks. One student, Joaquin, had a tupperware container with rice and chicken, Alejandro had an apple, and Edher, had peanut butter and jelly. The teacher smiled at me and shut the door, and then, for about thirty minutes, PURE CHAOS ensued. Joaquin was uninterested in eating, but also quite unwilling to share with Alejandro, who, at every possible moment, attempted to scoop up handfuls of Joaqin's rice and stuff it into his mouth, spilling lots of it on the floor in the process. Joaqin would then get angry and pull Alejandro's hair, and then Alejandro would scream and cry and refuse to return to his seat. Edher started off eating quite peacefully, but when Alejandro decided to raid Edher's lunch stash, I ultimately ended up with three very LOUD and displeased children. Looking back, I am wondering if this teacher intended to give me a taste of her daily life, or if she really thought I'd be able to handle three stubborn children all by my lonesome! While the whole half hour was quite frustrating, it was also eye-opening to see the degree of patience that is required of these teachers, most of whom have had no training in special education. It also made me even more aware of how much individual attention and care these children need, much of which can only be provided by additional staff members and more specialized training. I am so impressed with all that Manos Unidas is doing, but also so hopeful for its future, and for all the changes that can make it better still.
- On St. Scholastica's final work day, we drove to a rural community to build clean burning stoves for some of the families there. When we arrived, Lalo gave the group a demonstration on the stove-building process, which took about an hour. Then, we divided into groups of two and three and headed to individual houses to begin building. My partner was the lovely and beautiful Jenna Fischer, and we made a pretty super awesome team, except for the fact that I kept accidentally dropping blobs of mud down our chimney and having to make Jenna stick her hand into the oven opening to get them out. The stoves were constructed using only bricks (of four different shapes), mud, three metal rods, a damper, and a little metal "roof" that we called the "sombrero." Jenna and I worked at the home of a dear woman whose name I unfortunately can't remember. Her son, Marco Antonio, was 12 years old, and I talked to him a bit about his hopes of becoming a police officer in Cusco. Apparently, becoming a police officer here is quite difficult because there are only about 300 spots open per year and some 3000 applicants. I found this out from Lalo, who apparently considered becoming an officer himself. (Luckily, ProWorld snagged him up!). After Jenna and I finished up our stove, it was time for lunch. Then it was back to stove building. Jenna partnered up with Keri and Jennie (Team Physical Therapy--PTs stick together!), and I began making rounds with Lalo to check on the other stove builders. It was very interesting to see the different kinds of houses in which the community members lived, and to realize the excess that so powerfully characterizes the USA and other more developed countries. We have so much more than we need, and I continually find myself contemplating how I can better reflect the idea of "living simply so others can simply live." The highlight of the stove-building day was getting to see my dear Analie, whom I'd been missing since my last time in the community a few weeks before. She remembered me right away, and I was so glad to scoop her up and hold her for a few hours before it was time to return to Cusco.
- For Saint Scholastica's farewell dinner, we went to Don Antonio and had a delicious dinner, featuring some really tasty roast beef, a ceviche, and guinea pig (which I avoided happily). When the dancing performances began, I saw one of the guys who does the dance in which he and his partner try to light each other on fire. Knowing that they always bring up audience volunteers for that particular dance, I pointed out Lindsay, one of my favorite St. Scholastica darlings, and told him that she wanted to get up on stage. He was quite willing to honor my request, which resulted in a hysterically red-faced Lindsay dancing around for lots of tourists and attempting not to be lit on fire. It was priceless. After having sufficiently amused myself, I gave Lindsay what remained of my Machu Picchu, a mixed drink that I had ordered. I essentially drank the sugary juice part and then gave Lindsay the pure alcohol. She had earned it, and I certainly couldn't have drank it myself without significant after effects! After dinner, we all went to one of the discotecas for the free salsa class followed by some open dancing. It was very fun (and funny), and I stayed until the non-salsa music came on (aka the music that requires one to have "moves"), and then headed home to...drumroll please...my new apartment! During the two hours between my return from building stoves and the start of our farewell dinner, Laura and I had moved all of our stuff from our lovely apartment in Huancaro to our new digs in San Borga Alta. While our new place is smaller and in a slightly less desirable neighborhood, we are now only a block from the ProWorld office, which is SUPER nice, and also on a convenient ground floor and quite close to Avenida de la Cultura, one of Cusco's major streets with lots of stores and restaurants and other things we might need. (We're also a block from my new friend Helmud, which I'll discuss further in a bit!) I'll provide a photo house tour sometime soon. Today, Laura and I have been given the day off because we've both been working pretty incessantly the last few weeks. So far, I've had a lovely morning. The weather is beautiful, and I walked to the grocery store and the home store, where I bought some much-needed food items as well as dish soap and sponges, a bath mat, a carpet for my room, and a trashcan for our kitchen. Then, Laura and I went to the Wanchaq Market, where I bought some carrots and bread and potatoes. Pretty much the only major item I'm still looking to buy is a hair dryer. I've decided that the time has come to tame the tresses--at least a little bit! (Sister Julie, I know you're beaming right now, but know that you haven't won me over in the battle against my baby curls--I'm merely concerned about my hair having adequate time to dry now that I live so close to the office!)
- Yesterday, I had the joy of some company at the 11:30 mass at La Compania. Emily, Lindsay, and Sarah (St. Scholastica ladies) joined me, and the service was, as usual, lovely. This week's reading referenced Jesus' words, "If you love me, then keep my commandments." The priest's homily was wonderfully relevant; he spoke about friendship in general, and how, when we love our friends truly, we want them to know the truth and not be deceived. And if we humans care about our friends that much, how much more does Jesus love us and long for us to know the truth about His love? I have to admit that I was a bit less attentive than usual in light of the presence of my St. Scholastica amigas, so I didn't get quite as much out of the homily as I normally do. Actually, what most moved me during the service was a little quote on the front of my mass program, which said, by my translation, "When life's troubles come upon us and things get tough, we must not fall except upon our knees in prayer and thanks to God, who alone can save us." How wonderful that there's such a small difference between "falling" and "falling on our knees in prayer," and that we can choose between the two!
- Amid the departure of St. Scholastica was also the arrival of Missouri, or, as they say, "Mizzou." Laura and I were in charge of the Mizzou airport pick-up, and while we waited for the group to emerge, we met a friendly guy named Wilfredo, who works for Condor Travel. Wilfredo apparently used to work for ProWorld in Urubamba, Peru, and spent some time studying at California Polytechnical Institute. It just so happens that a group is coming from CalPoly to Cusco in a few weeks, so Wilfredo and I exchanged numbers so that he can see if it might be possible for him to send something home to his California host family. Small world! The Mizzou students seem like a pretty super bunch for the most part. They're here with a professor (Jacqueline), as well as Jacqueline's 13-year-old son Michael and his friend Alex. We took them to lunch at Victor/Victoria, my favorite restaurant ever, where I enjoyed a trout appetizer, some pasta bolognese, and a little piece of chocolate cake. I am excited to take Andrew and Brian there!
- Which leads me to my next point of note--Andrew and Brian Whitman are arriving in Cusco in less than a week! This Thursday, at 7 AM, I'll pick them up from the airport and check them into the guesthouse where I've reserved them a room with a set of twin beds. Now that St. Scholastica has left and I have a bit more downtime in life, I am going to start making a little itinerary of fun things to do with the boys. The item of greatest importance is probably their trip to Machu Picchu, which I have yet to arrange. Hopefully, that task will be completed by the end of today! I can't wait to see my precious brothers!
- Helmud! Helmud, as some of you may recall, is the physical therapist who works at Manos Unidas School, and whom I listed as a potential husband in my last blog entry. Since I last wrote, Helmud and I have conversed and exchanged numbers, AND spent two evenings in a row together practicing English. He has quite a bit of work to do, as he'll be moving to Norway in a few months to earn his master's degree. His classes will be in English, and while he does a pretty nice job with comprehension, I need to slow down my speech rather a lot for him to catch everything that I say. Our first meeting happened on Saturday evening. He called Saturday in the early afternoon and asked if we could meet at the Cathedral at seven. I agreed, and we met there and then decided to take a cab to his house, which is truly only a black from my new apartment--super convenient! We listened to salsa music and he bought me my first (and second--ha) Cusquena beer, and then we chatted for about five hours, mostly in English but the last hour and a half or so in Spanish. It was really fun to talk to him, and while I became aware of certain ideological differences between us that would make marriage difficult (shucks!), he's very dear, and certainly easy to look at! He has some of the most beautiful curly hair that I've ever seen on a Peruvian! We agreed to meet again on Sunday evening (last night), so he came over to chat for a little while around seven. We only spoke for a bit because he had some friends over at his house and didn't want to leave them for too long, and now we have plans to meet again tonight to eat ice cream and go shopping for a book for him to read in English. I'm rather amused by all of these Helmud interactions because I found him so intimidatingly and unapproachably handsome at first meeting. Now, the whole thing just makes me laugh! He apparently has a girlfriend in Lima as well, which, while disappointing at first, now is sort of a relief because I don't have to worry about romantic tension and such. Also funny is Helmud's tendency to ask very personal questions. This is pretty standard among Peruvians, who don't think twice about asking your age, your marital status, and more, and it doesn't really bother me because I love finding out about people and having honest interactions. That said, it still amuses me when Helmud suddenly asks me something like, "Do you think I am handsome?," which would be super unusual in the US! :-) It's been fun getting to spend time one on one with a native Peruvian, both to better my Spanish and to be able to help him with his English. It's also just nice to know that I speak good enough Spanish to be able to make friends and keep up my end of the conversation without feeling like the "weakest link."
- I just started reading a really great book called Better, by Atul Gawande, a Harvard-educated surgeon. The book was recommended to me by a friend, and I wasn't sure that I would like it considering my general lack of affinity for most things medical, but it's turning out to be an inspirational and intelligent read, and I am really glad that I brought it along! I highly recommend to doctors, nurses, and non-medical people alike!
That's about all I've got for now, folks! I hope I've been able to catch y'all up on some things, and I wish you all a splendidly beautiful week!
My apologies for the significant lag in my blog updates. It has been quite a week, marked by very long days of wonderful project work with my Saint Scholastica buddies and a move to a new apartment! It's been so long since I last blogged that I can't exactly remember everything I've been meaning to share, so I'm just going to try and recall what I can and hope that it develops some semblance of fluidity. I'm also hooopefully going to have a bunch of photos to share soon. I've been told that uploading pictures at the ProWorld office is a much faster process than uploading them in my house (which is no longer even an option in my new apartment--no internet--boohoo!), in which case I'll have quite a bit more photo footage to share with y'all! Anyway, without further adieu, here we go!
- I've had a seriously wonderful time with the St. Scholastica group these past two weeks. Yesterday, I was super sad when I brought them to the airport for their return to the US. (Although somewhat soothed by the fact that people were giving me presents left and right--shampoo that didn't fit in Keri's suitcase, a book and some hair mousse from Sarah, a bunch of high-quality toilet paper from Marie and John. No one at ProWorld told me about how much free stuff I'd acquire by taking on the airport drop-off responsibility!). I also had rather an interesting realization during the whole airport drop-off process. Most ProWorld groups are here for a week or two, and sometimes five or six weeks, but I get to be here for three months! What an incredible opportunity to fully immerse myself in the culture of Cusco...to become a member of the community here...to develop friendships and life experiences that can't be replaced. It's pretty neat to be dropping people off at the airport, and then being able to say goodbye and hop into a taxi and return to my apartment in Cusco. While my first few blog entries probably indicated a clear desire to get back to NJ and the USA as soon as possible, I've come to develop a fondness for Cusco, and a desire to make the very most of my time here. I am very blessed.
- My last few days of work with St. Scholastica were spent at Manos Unidas, and one day was devoted to building stoves in the same community where I worked with the students of Pittsburgh. I am going to miss Manos Unidas, and the wonderful people who work there, who have so much love for the children. I plan on getting back there a few times while I'm in Cusco. As I believe I may have mentioned, Manos Unidas is primarily able to run because of donations from supporters in the US and other countries. If you're interested in learning more about Manos Unidas, you can definitely e-mail me and I'll either tell you what I know or put you in touch with one of the directors. If you'd like to consider making a donation, just go to this link: http://www.manosunidasperu.net/id6.html. Having seen the wonderful work being done there, I can assure you that your money will be well-utilized to better the lives of some truly beautiful children. So you don't think Manos Unidas is already perfect or anything, I should mention that on my next to last day volunteering at Manos, one of the teachers asked for my help, but didn't specifically tell me what she needed me to do. Without question, I followed her, and she led me to one of the upper classrooms, where three children were supposed to be sitting at their desks and eating their snacks. One student, Joaquin, had a tupperware container with rice and chicken, Alejandro had an apple, and Edher, had peanut butter and jelly. The teacher smiled at me and shut the door, and then, for about thirty minutes, PURE CHAOS ensued. Joaquin was uninterested in eating, but also quite unwilling to share with Alejandro, who, at every possible moment, attempted to scoop up handfuls of Joaqin's rice and stuff it into his mouth, spilling lots of it on the floor in the process. Joaqin would then get angry and pull Alejandro's hair, and then Alejandro would scream and cry and refuse to return to his seat. Edher started off eating quite peacefully, but when Alejandro decided to raid Edher's lunch stash, I ultimately ended up with three very LOUD and displeased children. Looking back, I am wondering if this teacher intended to give me a taste of her daily life, or if she really thought I'd be able to handle three stubborn children all by my lonesome! While the whole half hour was quite frustrating, it was also eye-opening to see the degree of patience that is required of these teachers, most of whom have had no training in special education. It also made me even more aware of how much individual attention and care these children need, much of which can only be provided by additional staff members and more specialized training. I am so impressed with all that Manos Unidas is doing, but also so hopeful for its future, and for all the changes that can make it better still.
- On St. Scholastica's final work day, we drove to a rural community to build clean burning stoves for some of the families there. When we arrived, Lalo gave the group a demonstration on the stove-building process, which took about an hour. Then, we divided into groups of two and three and headed to individual houses to begin building. My partner was the lovely and beautiful Jenna Fischer, and we made a pretty super awesome team, except for the fact that I kept accidentally dropping blobs of mud down our chimney and having to make Jenna stick her hand into the oven opening to get them out. The stoves were constructed using only bricks (of four different shapes), mud, three metal rods, a damper, and a little metal "roof" that we called the "sombrero." Jenna and I worked at the home of a dear woman whose name I unfortunately can't remember. Her son, Marco Antonio, was 12 years old, and I talked to him a bit about his hopes of becoming a police officer in Cusco. Apparently, becoming a police officer here is quite difficult because there are only about 300 spots open per year and some 3000 applicants. I found this out from Lalo, who apparently considered becoming an officer himself. (Luckily, ProWorld snagged him up!). After Jenna and I finished up our stove, it was time for lunch. Then it was back to stove building. Jenna partnered up with Keri and Jennie (Team Physical Therapy--PTs stick together!), and I began making rounds with Lalo to check on the other stove builders. It was very interesting to see the different kinds of houses in which the community members lived, and to realize the excess that so powerfully characterizes the USA and other more developed countries. We have so much more than we need, and I continually find myself contemplating how I can better reflect the idea of "living simply so others can simply live." The highlight of the stove-building day was getting to see my dear Analie, whom I'd been missing since my last time in the community a few weeks before. She remembered me right away, and I was so glad to scoop her up and hold her for a few hours before it was time to return to Cusco.
- For Saint Scholastica's farewell dinner, we went to Don Antonio and had a delicious dinner, featuring some really tasty roast beef, a ceviche, and guinea pig (which I avoided happily). When the dancing performances began, I saw one of the guys who does the dance in which he and his partner try to light each other on fire. Knowing that they always bring up audience volunteers for that particular dance, I pointed out Lindsay, one of my favorite St. Scholastica darlings, and told him that she wanted to get up on stage. He was quite willing to honor my request, which resulted in a hysterically red-faced Lindsay dancing around for lots of tourists and attempting not to be lit on fire. It was priceless. After having sufficiently amused myself, I gave Lindsay what remained of my Machu Picchu, a mixed drink that I had ordered. I essentially drank the sugary juice part and then gave Lindsay the pure alcohol. She had earned it, and I certainly couldn't have drank it myself without significant after effects! After dinner, we all went to one of the discotecas for the free salsa class followed by some open dancing. It was very fun (and funny), and I stayed until the non-salsa music came on (aka the music that requires one to have "moves"), and then headed home to...drumroll please...my new apartment! During the two hours between my return from building stoves and the start of our farewell dinner, Laura and I had moved all of our stuff from our lovely apartment in Huancaro to our new digs in San Borga Alta. While our new place is smaller and in a slightly less desirable neighborhood, we are now only a block from the ProWorld office, which is SUPER nice, and also on a convenient ground floor and quite close to Avenida de la Cultura, one of Cusco's major streets with lots of stores and restaurants and other things we might need. (We're also a block from my new friend Helmud, which I'll discuss further in a bit!) I'll provide a photo house tour sometime soon. Today, Laura and I have been given the day off because we've both been working pretty incessantly the last few weeks. So far, I've had a lovely morning. The weather is beautiful, and I walked to the grocery store and the home store, where I bought some much-needed food items as well as dish soap and sponges, a bath mat, a carpet for my room, and a trashcan for our kitchen. Then, Laura and I went to the Wanchaq Market, where I bought some carrots and bread and potatoes. Pretty much the only major item I'm still looking to buy is a hair dryer. I've decided that the time has come to tame the tresses--at least a little bit! (Sister Julie, I know you're beaming right now, but know that you haven't won me over in the battle against my baby curls--I'm merely concerned about my hair having adequate time to dry now that I live so close to the office!)
- Yesterday, I had the joy of some company at the 11:30 mass at La Compania. Emily, Lindsay, and Sarah (St. Scholastica ladies) joined me, and the service was, as usual, lovely. This week's reading referenced Jesus' words, "If you love me, then keep my commandments." The priest's homily was wonderfully relevant; he spoke about friendship in general, and how, when we love our friends truly, we want them to know the truth and not be deceived. And if we humans care about our friends that much, how much more does Jesus love us and long for us to know the truth about His love? I have to admit that I was a bit less attentive than usual in light of the presence of my St. Scholastica amigas, so I didn't get quite as much out of the homily as I normally do. Actually, what most moved me during the service was a little quote on the front of my mass program, which said, by my translation, "When life's troubles come upon us and things get tough, we must not fall except upon our knees in prayer and thanks to God, who alone can save us." How wonderful that there's such a small difference between "falling" and "falling on our knees in prayer," and that we can choose between the two!
- Amid the departure of St. Scholastica was also the arrival of Missouri, or, as they say, "Mizzou." Laura and I were in charge of the Mizzou airport pick-up, and while we waited for the group to emerge, we met a friendly guy named Wilfredo, who works for Condor Travel. Wilfredo apparently used to work for ProWorld in Urubamba, Peru, and spent some time studying at California Polytechnical Institute. It just so happens that a group is coming from CalPoly to Cusco in a few weeks, so Wilfredo and I exchanged numbers so that he can see if it might be possible for him to send something home to his California host family. Small world! The Mizzou students seem like a pretty super bunch for the most part. They're here with a professor (Jacqueline), as well as Jacqueline's 13-year-old son Michael and his friend Alex. We took them to lunch at Victor/Victoria, my favorite restaurant ever, where I enjoyed a trout appetizer, some pasta bolognese, and a little piece of chocolate cake. I am excited to take Andrew and Brian there!
- Which leads me to my next point of note--Andrew and Brian Whitman are arriving in Cusco in less than a week! This Thursday, at 7 AM, I'll pick them up from the airport and check them into the guesthouse where I've reserved them a room with a set of twin beds. Now that St. Scholastica has left and I have a bit more downtime in life, I am going to start making a little itinerary of fun things to do with the boys. The item of greatest importance is probably their trip to Machu Picchu, which I have yet to arrange. Hopefully, that task will be completed by the end of today! I can't wait to see my precious brothers!
- Helmud! Helmud, as some of you may recall, is the physical therapist who works at Manos Unidas School, and whom I listed as a potential husband in my last blog entry. Since I last wrote, Helmud and I have conversed and exchanged numbers, AND spent two evenings in a row together practicing English. He has quite a bit of work to do, as he'll be moving to Norway in a few months to earn his master's degree. His classes will be in English, and while he does a pretty nice job with comprehension, I need to slow down my speech rather a lot for him to catch everything that I say. Our first meeting happened on Saturday evening. He called Saturday in the early afternoon and asked if we could meet at the Cathedral at seven. I agreed, and we met there and then decided to take a cab to his house, which is truly only a black from my new apartment--super convenient! We listened to salsa music and he bought me my first (and second--ha) Cusquena beer, and then we chatted for about five hours, mostly in English but the last hour and a half or so in Spanish. It was really fun to talk to him, and while I became aware of certain ideological differences between us that would make marriage difficult (shucks!), he's very dear, and certainly easy to look at! He has some of the most beautiful curly hair that I've ever seen on a Peruvian! We agreed to meet again on Sunday evening (last night), so he came over to chat for a little while around seven. We only spoke for a bit because he had some friends over at his house and didn't want to leave them for too long, and now we have plans to meet again tonight to eat ice cream and go shopping for a book for him to read in English. I'm rather amused by all of these Helmud interactions because I found him so intimidatingly and unapproachably handsome at first meeting. Now, the whole thing just makes me laugh! He apparently has a girlfriend in Lima as well, which, while disappointing at first, now is sort of a relief because I don't have to worry about romantic tension and such. Also funny is Helmud's tendency to ask very personal questions. This is pretty standard among Peruvians, who don't think twice about asking your age, your marital status, and more, and it doesn't really bother me because I love finding out about people and having honest interactions. That said, it still amuses me when Helmud suddenly asks me something like, "Do you think I am handsome?," which would be super unusual in the US! :-) It's been fun getting to spend time one on one with a native Peruvian, both to better my Spanish and to be able to help him with his English. It's also just nice to know that I speak good enough Spanish to be able to make friends and keep up my end of the conversation without feeling like the "weakest link."
- I just started reading a really great book called Better, by Atul Gawande, a Harvard-educated surgeon. The book was recommended to me by a friend, and I wasn't sure that I would like it considering my general lack of affinity for most things medical, but it's turning out to be an inspirational and intelligent read, and I am really glad that I brought it along! I highly recommend to doctors, nurses, and non-medical people alike!
That's about all I've got for now, folks! I hope I've been able to catch y'all up on some things, and I wish you all a splendidly beautiful week!
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Children of Santa Teresa de Calcutta
Greetings, and Happy Monday to everyone!
I've just returned from a day at Santa Teresa de Calcutta, and I have a little window of time before the group and I reunite for dinner. Thought I'd share some events of the day.
Today, Eliza put Laura and me in charge of the St. Scholastica students. Also, Eliza received a call last night from the director of Manos Unidas School. Apparently, a very generous dental specialist has offered to come to Cusco and provide free dental services for the children of Manos Unidas, so their Monday school day was canceled. As a result, all 16 of us piled into the van this morning, and together went to help out at Santa Teresa.
The children at Santa Teresa all suffer from various physical and mental ailments, but, much like the students at Manos Unidas, they are all so quick to express joy. Their wide smiles will never stop being beautiful, humbling things to see. When we first arrived, things were a bit chaotic, but fairly quickly students gravitated to certain children, and after some time in the physical therapy room, it was time for morning feeding. Feeding is quite a process, as many of the children can't feed themselves independently. Luckily, there's no better group to help with this than a bunch of awesome OT students! I am impressed each day by the patience and the compassion that I see in each of these young women, and of course among the professors and their spouses. I don't know that I would have the stamina to do what they do.
Also present during the morning hours was a volunteer from an organization called Global Volunteers Network. His name is John, and he's 25 and in the process of applying for medical school. I am currently in the process of deciding whether I want to put my energies toward garnering a marriage proposal from John or from Helmud. The verdict remains up in the air! In any case, John is really great, and has been at the center for about a week, with three more to go. He's from Georgia, and he's really wonderful with the kids. I hope that a spectacular medical school accepts him.
The two "faculty spouses" on the trip have proven themselves just as invaluable as the students and professors. Marie, the wife of John, happens to be an early education teacher who has quite a bit of experience with autistic children, so her presence at the center was wonderful. She brought a bunch of educational supplies along with her, and she interacts so easily and skillfully with the kids. It seems that she knows just what to say and do to help them reach a higher level of potential. Steven (whom we affectionately call "Esteban"), husband of Debbie, has become Mr. Fix-It, and is particularly engaged in fixing about 47 wheelchairs. He and I stopped by a big ferreteria today, where he bought some tools, and for the rest of the afternoon he was in his element. The sisters are very happy to have him.
Professors Debbie and Diane had a wonderful breakthrough with a little boy who just arrived at the center today. He's only two months old, and has hydrocephalus, which basically means that his head is abnormally large because his brain is swelling. To add to that, he's blind, and possibly deaf as well. Apparently, he's been spoon-fed milk for these last two months, but today, Debbie actually fed him milk from a bottle. It was a bit of a struggle for him, and he only drank about an ounce of milk, but it was a wonderful thing to see him be a bit more self-reliant in this way, and to be able to suck and grip the bottle. We were all very excited at a small victory for this sweet, precious little boy.
Among the other children is beautiful Ruth, who, while not able to say much, is so very smart and has the most beautiful smile you can imagine. She was pretty popular today, and Marie did some great work with her, encouraging her to identify colors and letters. Jenna worked with a little boy named Angel Gabriel (called Gabriel), who has deep, dark eyes and an infectious little laugh. When I tickled his feet, he burst into a giant smile, and it was all I could do not to take him back to my apartment with me! There was another little boy whose name I don't know, but who I will affectionately call "the screamer." This little guy was just adorable, but whenever he got excited about anything (like my scarf, for example, or bubbles being blown in his direction), he would scream SO loudly! We probably encouraged him to keep on screaming because we couldn't help but laugh when he would scream as the bubbles came close to him!
After we fed the children lunch, it was time for us to go to our own lunch, which was quite lovely. Sopa de quinoa was on the menu, and I much enjoyed chatting with my tablemates, which consisted of Diane, Debbie, Sarah, and Ashley. (Grammy P., if you're reading this, you should know that I shared a few "Gram stories" with my lunch companions today, and they find you quite comical and adorable, which you are!)
Soon enough we were back to Santa Teresa for the afternoon. In the afternoon hours, the children seem to multiply because the ones who were at school are now back and full of energy! Most of the children are fed again at 2:30, and then the bedtime process begins for most of them, though not some of the more energetic school children, who stay up until 8 PM or so. Lindsay, one of the OT students, was incredibly patient while feeding her little buddy, a boy who is 10 years old but looks like he's about five. Diane told me that he probably won't be alive next year. It's a sad reality for some of these children, and one that I can't let myself think about for too long.
The children who went to school in the morning returned to the center with homework assignments to complete. Jenna and I spent some time helping one adorable little girl with subtraction problems. As we were finishing up, one of the staff members came over to me with notebooks belonging to three other children, and asked me if I would complete their homework for them. At first I thought I misheard, but then she repeated that the staff members do the childrens' homework each night because, she said, many of the children weren't able to do it themselves. I agreed to do the homework, but couldn't actually bring myself to do it, and instead found the three students to whom the notebooks belonged and paired them each up with an OT student to complete the work. All three students did what they needed to do, and I have become fairly certain that the reason for the staff members doing the homework is more a matter of efficiency than of ability on the part of the kids. It's hard to judge the staff for this because I'm sure things get super hectic when there aren't lots of volunteers around to help, but it makes me sad that there isn't a way to get more individualized attention for these kids. So many of them are so full of promise.
My final adventure of the day involved a young man who lives at the center. He somehow canoodled his way into the childrens' building, and proceeded to grab the hands of various volunteers and have them dance together for him. For some reason, he was particularly excited when Ashley (an OT student) and I would dance together. Unfortunately, he chose the childrens' bedtime as the time to come and start dancing in their room, so one of the sisters asked Ashley and me to try and "lure" him back into his part of the center. This turned out to be a rather difficult and hysterical task, and I wish I had video footage for y'all. Basically, every few steps that we took, he would do some sort of a CRAZY dance move along with a noise of some sort, like a high-pitched scream or a groan of some kind. He then stood and patiently waited for me to mimic him. As a result, I ended up making a crazy squealing noise while tapping my feet on a tree stump, and then doing some kind of a ballerina-style leap with my arms out, and various other strange movements and sound effects. Ashley got a real kick out of watching the whole show, and once we finally found the mens' building, we had to run away during the few seconds that our friend turned his gaze from us so that we could return to our group. Quite a laugh.
The children I met today are all so beautiful, and so full of life. It makes me question why they must suffer as they do, but then I wonder if perhaps they don't realize that they are suffering because they know nothing else. And if, perhaps, they are here in part to show us joy that conquers even the direst of situations. I am blessed to be here and to know them, even if only for a little while.
Figure skater and cancer survivor Scott Hamilton said, "The only disability in life is a bad attitude," and if he is indeed right, then I've spent today not among disabled kids, but among super-children!
I've just returned from a day at Santa Teresa de Calcutta, and I have a little window of time before the group and I reunite for dinner. Thought I'd share some events of the day.
Today, Eliza put Laura and me in charge of the St. Scholastica students. Also, Eliza received a call last night from the director of Manos Unidas School. Apparently, a very generous dental specialist has offered to come to Cusco and provide free dental services for the children of Manos Unidas, so their Monday school day was canceled. As a result, all 16 of us piled into the van this morning, and together went to help out at Santa Teresa.
The children at Santa Teresa all suffer from various physical and mental ailments, but, much like the students at Manos Unidas, they are all so quick to express joy. Their wide smiles will never stop being beautiful, humbling things to see. When we first arrived, things were a bit chaotic, but fairly quickly students gravitated to certain children, and after some time in the physical therapy room, it was time for morning feeding. Feeding is quite a process, as many of the children can't feed themselves independently. Luckily, there's no better group to help with this than a bunch of awesome OT students! I am impressed each day by the patience and the compassion that I see in each of these young women, and of course among the professors and their spouses. I don't know that I would have the stamina to do what they do.
Also present during the morning hours was a volunteer from an organization called Global Volunteers Network. His name is John, and he's 25 and in the process of applying for medical school. I am currently in the process of deciding whether I want to put my energies toward garnering a marriage proposal from John or from Helmud. The verdict remains up in the air! In any case, John is really great, and has been at the center for about a week, with three more to go. He's from Georgia, and he's really wonderful with the kids. I hope that a spectacular medical school accepts him.
The two "faculty spouses" on the trip have proven themselves just as invaluable as the students and professors. Marie, the wife of John, happens to be an early education teacher who has quite a bit of experience with autistic children, so her presence at the center was wonderful. She brought a bunch of educational supplies along with her, and she interacts so easily and skillfully with the kids. It seems that she knows just what to say and do to help them reach a higher level of potential. Steven (whom we affectionately call "Esteban"), husband of Debbie, has become Mr. Fix-It, and is particularly engaged in fixing about 47 wheelchairs. He and I stopped by a big ferreteria today, where he bought some tools, and for the rest of the afternoon he was in his element. The sisters are very happy to have him.
Professors Debbie and Diane had a wonderful breakthrough with a little boy who just arrived at the center today. He's only two months old, and has hydrocephalus, which basically means that his head is abnormally large because his brain is swelling. To add to that, he's blind, and possibly deaf as well. Apparently, he's been spoon-fed milk for these last two months, but today, Debbie actually fed him milk from a bottle. It was a bit of a struggle for him, and he only drank about an ounce of milk, but it was a wonderful thing to see him be a bit more self-reliant in this way, and to be able to suck and grip the bottle. We were all very excited at a small victory for this sweet, precious little boy.
Among the other children is beautiful Ruth, who, while not able to say much, is so very smart and has the most beautiful smile you can imagine. She was pretty popular today, and Marie did some great work with her, encouraging her to identify colors and letters. Jenna worked with a little boy named Angel Gabriel (called Gabriel), who has deep, dark eyes and an infectious little laugh. When I tickled his feet, he burst into a giant smile, and it was all I could do not to take him back to my apartment with me! There was another little boy whose name I don't know, but who I will affectionately call "the screamer." This little guy was just adorable, but whenever he got excited about anything (like my scarf, for example, or bubbles being blown in his direction), he would scream SO loudly! We probably encouraged him to keep on screaming because we couldn't help but laugh when he would scream as the bubbles came close to him!
After we fed the children lunch, it was time for us to go to our own lunch, which was quite lovely. Sopa de quinoa was on the menu, and I much enjoyed chatting with my tablemates, which consisted of Diane, Debbie, Sarah, and Ashley. (Grammy P., if you're reading this, you should know that I shared a few "Gram stories" with my lunch companions today, and they find you quite comical and adorable, which you are!)
Soon enough we were back to Santa Teresa for the afternoon. In the afternoon hours, the children seem to multiply because the ones who were at school are now back and full of energy! Most of the children are fed again at 2:30, and then the bedtime process begins for most of them, though not some of the more energetic school children, who stay up until 8 PM or so. Lindsay, one of the OT students, was incredibly patient while feeding her little buddy, a boy who is 10 years old but looks like he's about five. Diane told me that he probably won't be alive next year. It's a sad reality for some of these children, and one that I can't let myself think about for too long.
The children who went to school in the morning returned to the center with homework assignments to complete. Jenna and I spent some time helping one adorable little girl with subtraction problems. As we were finishing up, one of the staff members came over to me with notebooks belonging to three other children, and asked me if I would complete their homework for them. At first I thought I misheard, but then she repeated that the staff members do the childrens' homework each night because, she said, many of the children weren't able to do it themselves. I agreed to do the homework, but couldn't actually bring myself to do it, and instead found the three students to whom the notebooks belonged and paired them each up with an OT student to complete the work. All three students did what they needed to do, and I have become fairly certain that the reason for the staff members doing the homework is more a matter of efficiency than of ability on the part of the kids. It's hard to judge the staff for this because I'm sure things get super hectic when there aren't lots of volunteers around to help, but it makes me sad that there isn't a way to get more individualized attention for these kids. So many of them are so full of promise.
My final adventure of the day involved a young man who lives at the center. He somehow canoodled his way into the childrens' building, and proceeded to grab the hands of various volunteers and have them dance together for him. For some reason, he was particularly excited when Ashley (an OT student) and I would dance together. Unfortunately, he chose the childrens' bedtime as the time to come and start dancing in their room, so one of the sisters asked Ashley and me to try and "lure" him back into his part of the center. This turned out to be a rather difficult and hysterical task, and I wish I had video footage for y'all. Basically, every few steps that we took, he would do some sort of a CRAZY dance move along with a noise of some sort, like a high-pitched scream or a groan of some kind. He then stood and patiently waited for me to mimic him. As a result, I ended up making a crazy squealing noise while tapping my feet on a tree stump, and then doing some kind of a ballerina-style leap with my arms out, and various other strange movements and sound effects. Ashley got a real kick out of watching the whole show, and once we finally found the mens' building, we had to run away during the few seconds that our friend turned his gaze from us so that we could return to our group. Quite a laugh.
The children I met today are all so beautiful, and so full of life. It makes me question why they must suffer as they do, but then I wonder if perhaps they don't realize that they are suffering because they know nothing else. And if, perhaps, they are here in part to show us joy that conquers even the direst of situations. I am blessed to be here and to know them, even if only for a little while.
Figure skater and cancer survivor Scott Hamilton said, "The only disability in life is a bad attitude," and if he is indeed right, then I've spent today not among disabled kids, but among super-children!
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Domingo con Dominga!
Hi readers!
This will have to be short and sweet, as I'm ready for bed, but I wanted to share a few highlights of today...
1. I went to a lovely 11:30 AM misa at La Compania, which was rather difficult to get to in light of the HUGE crowd of people milling around the plaza for a civic/community parade of sorts. I made it there, though, and was glad for the peace of the mass. Today's Gospel reading was about Jesus' words, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." The words are ones that I often ponder because they have led to quite a few different conclusions about where non-Christians are going when they die. Of late, I've been rather inclined to think that we have no right to judge what exactly it means to get to Heaven "through" Jesus. I think that many Christians use Jesus' words to argue that people who don't believe in God or who don't call themselves "Christians" will not go to Heaven. But I think there are other possible interpretations...such as, perhaps, that Jesus is the doorway by which we enter Heaven, but that in His compassion He doesn't exclude any of those who accept his invitation to enter, even if the invitation is accepted after one's earthly death. Basically, I don't think that the meaning of Jesus' words can be any more than loosely interpreted in this case--at least not without our taking on a judgment role that hasn't been assigned to us. Anyway.
2. After church, I went to meet my dear new friend Dominga, the woman I met last week selling baked goods outside of the Monasterio de Santa Catalina. Today, I sat with her for a bit and we exchanged numbers and addresses so that we could schedule a time to get together over coffee and practice English/Spanish together. While I sat with her, one of the nuns from the convent came out with some lunch for Dominga, and Dominga tried to give it to me, telling me that I was her dear friend and she wanted me to have her soup. I finally convinced her to eat it herself, but only after agreeing to eat the corn on the cob they had brought out for her. She is so generous, and so full of joy. Luckily, she also seems to understand my Spanish. I'm excited for our next reunion!
3. I spent some time reading in San Blas, and then relocated to another little plaza overlooking the Plaza de Armas but far less populated. As I sat, I was approached by various vendors, as usual, and after a while, a young Peruvian girl of about 18 came and sat beside me. She asked me where I was from and how long I was in Cusco, and I answered obligingly, all the while awaiting a sales pitch of some sort. It turns out that she actually was planning on seeing if I wanted a massage, but she never ended up making her pitch because we got into a nice conversation and found ourselves chatting for an hour or so. In Peru, it's far more common to ask intimate questions than in the US, so she (her name is Meriya) started off by asking me if I had a husband and kids, then if I had a boyfriend, then if anyone had ever professed love to me. It was pretty funny, and since I tend to be rather open about such things, I found it endearing rather than irksome. It turns out that she is the second oldest of nine children, and wants to travel and be a singer. We exchanged e-mail addresses, and I'm excited at the prospect of perhaps seeing her again and doing something fun in Cusco together. We also took a photo of the two of us, which I'll share once I get around to another upload.
4. I bought some super fabulous, warm, fuzzy socks to replace my sadly hole-ridden pair from Albania. Because of the pastel pattern I chose, my feet look like super snazzy Easter eggs. I could not be happier about this.
5. I enjoyed two nice phone conversations, one with the beautiful Miss Sarah Hartman, and the other with the also beautiful Miss Jayme Ewanichak. So great to catch up with some dear friends from home. I miss everyone, but I'm glad to at least be able to share my experiences. Thank God for the world wide web!
Off to bed, beautiful people! Sleep well!
This will have to be short and sweet, as I'm ready for bed, but I wanted to share a few highlights of today...
1. I went to a lovely 11:30 AM misa at La Compania, which was rather difficult to get to in light of the HUGE crowd of people milling around the plaza for a civic/community parade of sorts. I made it there, though, and was glad for the peace of the mass. Today's Gospel reading was about Jesus' words, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me." The words are ones that I often ponder because they have led to quite a few different conclusions about where non-Christians are going when they die. Of late, I've been rather inclined to think that we have no right to judge what exactly it means to get to Heaven "through" Jesus. I think that many Christians use Jesus' words to argue that people who don't believe in God or who don't call themselves "Christians" will not go to Heaven. But I think there are other possible interpretations...such as, perhaps, that Jesus is the doorway by which we enter Heaven, but that in His compassion He doesn't exclude any of those who accept his invitation to enter, even if the invitation is accepted after one's earthly death. Basically, I don't think that the meaning of Jesus' words can be any more than loosely interpreted in this case--at least not without our taking on a judgment role that hasn't been assigned to us. Anyway.
2. After church, I went to meet my dear new friend Dominga, the woman I met last week selling baked goods outside of the Monasterio de Santa Catalina. Today, I sat with her for a bit and we exchanged numbers and addresses so that we could schedule a time to get together over coffee and practice English/Spanish together. While I sat with her, one of the nuns from the convent came out with some lunch for Dominga, and Dominga tried to give it to me, telling me that I was her dear friend and she wanted me to have her soup. I finally convinced her to eat it herself, but only after agreeing to eat the corn on the cob they had brought out for her. She is so generous, and so full of joy. Luckily, she also seems to understand my Spanish. I'm excited for our next reunion!
3. I spent some time reading in San Blas, and then relocated to another little plaza overlooking the Plaza de Armas but far less populated. As I sat, I was approached by various vendors, as usual, and after a while, a young Peruvian girl of about 18 came and sat beside me. She asked me where I was from and how long I was in Cusco, and I answered obligingly, all the while awaiting a sales pitch of some sort. It turns out that she actually was planning on seeing if I wanted a massage, but she never ended up making her pitch because we got into a nice conversation and found ourselves chatting for an hour or so. In Peru, it's far more common to ask intimate questions than in the US, so she (her name is Meriya) started off by asking me if I had a husband and kids, then if I had a boyfriend, then if anyone had ever professed love to me. It was pretty funny, and since I tend to be rather open about such things, I found it endearing rather than irksome. It turns out that she is the second oldest of nine children, and wants to travel and be a singer. We exchanged e-mail addresses, and I'm excited at the prospect of perhaps seeing her again and doing something fun in Cusco together. We also took a photo of the two of us, which I'll share once I get around to another upload.
4. I bought some super fabulous, warm, fuzzy socks to replace my sadly hole-ridden pair from Albania. Because of the pastel pattern I chose, my feet look like super snazzy Easter eggs. I could not be happier about this.
5. I enjoyed two nice phone conversations, one with the beautiful Miss Sarah Hartman, and the other with the also beautiful Miss Jayme Ewanichak. So great to catch up with some dear friends from home. I miss everyone, but I'm glad to at least be able to share my experiences. Thank God for the world wide web!
Off to bed, beautiful people! Sleep well!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Fun with St. Scholastica
Happy Saturday, y'all! My apologies for the sizable length of time between posts. I've been wanting to share some things with you since Wednesday, but I've been coming home so exhausted that I feared for the quality of my grammar! :-)
I'm very much enjoying typing to all of you from my bed right now, where I've been happily able to sleep in after a busy and rather heart-wrenching week. In a bit, Laura and I are going to walk to our neighborhood market, where I'm contemplating buying a watermelon and definitely planning on buying some fresh flowers for our kitchen. I think it's going to be a beautiful day!
So let's rewind a bit to Wednesday so that I can give y'all an idea of what I've been up to with the students and professors of St. Scholastica. (Who, I might add, are all awesome.) I know I probably shouldn't pick a favorite group, so I will simply say that I find them to be fabulous to such a degree that I am trying to figure out how I might finagle a trip to Duluth, Minnesota to hang out with them. I can't say that there are many other enthralling factors drawing me to Duluth, so hopefully I've communicated my fondness for these lovely ladies (and of course Steven and John, the two males on the trip, one the spouse of a faculty member and one a professor).
So on Wednesday, the group of 14 plus Eliza and I boarded our van and headed first to a neighborhood in Cusco called San Luis, to a school called Manos Unidos. There. we were met by Claire, a lovely employee from New Zealand who serves as Volunteer Coordinator at the school. Celeste, the school's founder, was in the US (she's from the Seattle area), so Claire kindly gave us a tour. Manos Unidos was established about five years ago, and is a school for children with disabilities of various sorts. There are a number of autistic students, quite a few with cerebral palsy, some with Down's Syndrome, and others disabilities for which I don't know names. Presently in Peru, special education is not available as a curricular focus, and children with special needs are often ostracized from their families or described as "un poco mal" (which basically means "a little bad" or "a little unwell"). Manos Unidos is therefore a crucial and wonderful community force for increased awareness of special needs and how we can accommodate them.
The children in the school come from various degrees of socio-economic status, but the majority come from very poor households that cannot afford to send their children to special schools. Therefore, tuition for many students is covered by scholarships sponsored by donors in the US and elsewhere. There are morning classes until about 1 PM and afternoon programs, including individual physical therapy and stimulation sessions, from about 3 until 6. When we first walked through the school and visited the classrooms, things were bit chaotic. There were a lot of noises and people running around, and I think some of the St. Scholiastca students began to worry about whether or not they could be of help. Also definitely visible was the level of need of some students. For example, many of the children with cerebral palsy were sitting in donated wheelchairs that weren't customized to their size, which made it difficult to help them maintain a good posture or just be positioned comfortably. Furthermore, Cusco isn't very wheelchair-friendly outside of the city center, so many parents have to carry their children to and from Manos Unidos because the wheelchairs can't be brought back and forth between the home and the school. One class includes two brothers who both have cerebral palsy. They are the same size even though one brother is significantly older. This is due in large part to the older brother's malnutrition due to his inability to swallow most foods. These are just snapshots of the many needs that we saw in the school. Of course, amid all the need was also a great deal of joy--joy among the students, many of whom are finally able to feel loved and accepted at Manos Unidos, joy among the teachers, who have more patience and love for their students than you can imagine, and joy among those who visit the school, and who see that strides are being made to help children like this, even if the journey is long and arduous.
After our tour of Manos Unidos, we again piled into our van and drove a short distance to a second site, an orphanage of sorts called Santa Teresa de Calcutta. Six nuns--sisters of Mother Teresa--reside in the center, along with a large number of patients ranging from young children to the elderly. The center was surprisingly spacious, but the needs that we saw were gut-wrenching. We entered one room to find a woman lying on a couch, her face and body made unrecognizable due to burn marks. The sister who walked through the center with us informed us that the woman had been unwanted by her family, and that they had tried to burn her to death. In another room, the sister told us about a young boy whose family had treated him as one of their pigs throughout his early upbringing. As a result, when he came to the center, he refused to interact with other people or eat real food, wanting to return to his swine-ridden environment and eat scraps. It took three months for the sisters to make this boy comfortable among the other residents of the center. In yet another room, we came upon a group of volunteers, each sitting with a child and helping to feed him or her. The feeding process is apparently something of a process here, as many of the disabled residents are unable to feed themselves in an upright position.
When the time came to leave the Santa Teresa de Calcutta center for lunch, I felt that I had seen only a small slice of what was there, and yet almost more than I could bear. Both Manos Unidos and Santa Teresa de Calcutta reminded me of why I am here, and why I can never afford to make volunteerism anything less than a top priority in my life.
Lunch and dinners for the week are being prepared by two separate homestay families. I was surprised to hear that we would all be eating in these womens' homes, but they managed to fit us in comfortably and were very hospitable. The lunch cooks are definitely dependent on dairy products in their cooking, which means that I haven't been eating as much as I normally would in the way of almuerzo. Dinner, however, has been continuously delightful, and the chef, a lovely woman named Agripina, is just a gem. I've been enjoying the chance to get a taste of real Peruvian home cooking, and to just chat with Agripina.
After our emotionally exhausting morning, we decided to divide our group of 16 into two, half of whom would return to Manos Unidos and the other half to Santa Teresa. I was to accompany the Manos Unidos group, which consisted of a wonderful professor named Debbie, Debbie's husband Steven (our resident provider of comic relief!), Lindsay, Jenny, Emily, Keri, and Ashley. When we got back to the school, we divided into smaller groups. Emily, Lindsay, and Ashley went to a class of older students, including a few adults, who were focusing on skills such as handwriting and typing. Very appropriate for OT students. Keri and Jenny alternated between a classroom upstairs (where I remained to help with translation) and alongside Helmud, the afternoon physical therapist, who kindly agreed to allow the PT students to watch his sessions. (And who also happened to be quite guapo and potentially my future husband--I jest not). The afternoon was interesting. The girls in the older student/adult classroom did a wonderful job, patiently helping the students to write and later joining them in an impromptu "dance party." The physical therapy sessions with Helmud were great for Jenny and Keri, and Helmud was very open to allowing the girls both some hands-on time with the patients. The upstairs classroom where I sat was rather a madhouse, but all of us who spent any time up there quickly agreed that the teacher, Ruth, is a SAINT. She never loses her patience. She only has four students, but they are each uniquely challenging. Edher and Joaquin both have very little inclination to focus for any length of time, Matsue has quite a temper, and Nichole doesn't complete her work unless someone is beside her, singing to her. (On Wednesday, I sang pretty much the whole soundtrack to "The Sound of Music"!). Despite the difficulties within the classroom, it was interesting to see the great potential of each of the students as well. Most of them can speak if they choose to, and some have fine motor skills that are quite impressive. Debbie came in at one point and drew a road on the white board, which Edher and Joaquin happily "drove" with their toy cars, effectively following the curves that Debbie had incorporated. Watching Nichole work as we sang to her was eye-opening, and again reminded me of the healing power of music in our lives (Mozart makes you smarter--I really believe it!). The children are lovable and full of promise, and I hope that Manos Unidos can help to unlock some of their potential.
I had thought that these weeks with St. Scholastica would be less tiring than my week of manual labor with PITT, but I was very wrong. While this week's exhaustion has been of a different sort, it has been just as present. By the time we'd finished dinner at Agripina's on Wednesday night, we were all ready for a good night of sleep.
Said night of sleep was all the more crucial on Wednesday night because we had a long day ahead of us on Thursday. We left Cusco at 6 AM and drove about three hours to a region of Peru called Acopia. There, we again divided into two groups and visited two sites housing patients with special needs. One was a clinic for local community members in need of care, and the other was a health center run by a Catholic order and serving the very poorest members of the Acopia community and its outlying areas. After visiting both sites, we divided into our groups, and I accompanied John, Marie, Keri, Karen, Emily, Ashley, and Sarah to the Catholic health center. There we met a lovely doctor, who kindly introduced us to all of the patients one by one. I was particularly endeared to Roger, a 15-year old boy who had dislocated hips and an inability to walk. He spoke a little bit, but most of the time I saw him simply smiling with pure joy. What an experience to see someone in such dire straits who still possessed such "joie de vivre." It was incredible and humbling to behold. I also fell in love with a woman who had spent most of the past seven or so years lying on her stomach and unable to move independently. I'm not sure of what caused her ailments, but I know that she now spends most of each day in bed, knitting. What a beautiful spirit she had. She and I spoke a bit about her family and her hobbies, and as we spoke, I couldn't get over the sincerity of her smile and the optimism she possessed in spite of her circumstances. Lying in the next bed over was a very old woman who, when curled into the fetal position, looked no bigger than a child of maybe eight years of age. When she woke, I stopped by her bed to say hello, and realized, as she held my hands in hers and touched my cheeks and stroked my arm, that she was blind. She pulled me into an embrace and kissed my cheek again and again, simply seeking human touch. I was honored to be the human she happened to find in her embrace.
The doctors and nurses who provide care at the Catholic health center are all incredibly devoted and compassionate. It was clear, though, that there were skills that would be greatly helpful to them. And thus began a long day of great work. I was impressed by all of the St. Scholastica girls, who dove straight into their specialties, pairing up and working alongside nurses and doctors to try new rehabilitative exercises with the patients they thought would most benefit from them. Throughout the day, I was continually impressed as the students, with the help of John and his wife Marie, made awesome things happen. With the help of a foam wedge, Roger was able to reach out from a prone position, allowing him to be more independent with his upper body and experience a new position of comfort. Roy, an autistic teenager, showed such joy at simply having a playmate to throw a ball with him or laugh beside him. Clemente, the victim of an accident that left him immobile, was able to use his upper arm strength to transfer himself from his wheelchair to his bed with only minimal assistance. The St. Scholastica students didn't cease to impress me with their patience and sincere compassion for the well-being of everyone at the center. The doctor and the nurses were incredibly open to new ideas, and clearly had the best interests of their patients in mind. There was no pride and lots of collaboration, and by the day's end, we were exhausted but oh-so-satisfied. Alongside that satisfaction was, for many, a nagging feeling of frustration that we couldn't stay longer and do more, but I find that nagging feeling to be a necessity, and the force that brings us back to serving others again and again. I hope the feeling never leaves me. On the way back to Cusco, we stopped at a beautiful lake, where the view of mountains was truly incredible. When we arrived at the dinner location, one volunteer, Sarah, wasn't feeling well, so I took her back to the hostal while the others had dinner with Agripina. While I was sad to miss dinner, I was glad to reach my bed. Another long and wonderful day had left me quite pooped!
Finally, we arrive at Friday (yesterday), and another opportunity for my group of seven to visit Manos Unidos. In the morning, Jenny and Keri were given permission to work individually with some of the students with ceerbral palsy and other physical disabilities. Not only was it wonderful for the children to get some extra therapy time, but also for Jenny and Keri to be able to use their PT skills. Ashley and Lindsay and I again braved the upstairs classrooms, this time with students Alejandro and Franklin, both rather rambunctious boys who weren't particularly inclined to listen to teacher instructions. While they required great patience, they were both also quite lovable, and when we turned on some music and got them dancing, the happiness on their faces was undeniable. At around mid-morning, we joined two classes in a walk to the local park, which was quite an adventure. I first walked with a student named Sarina, who kept crying because she wanted to eat (which she apparently wants to do quite often), and then I walked with another little girl who kept trying to pick up trash from the ground and put it in her mouth. I became quite good at wresting plastic straws, twigs, and other paraphernalia from her grasp. Also at the park, we helped to feed the students a snack. While some of them could easily eat on their own, others needed individual assistance. It was interesting to watch Jenny work with one little girl, who hadn't learned to chew her food. We've been told that she spends most of each day on her back, and has had her food fed to her while inclined backward so she doesn't have to chew. While I knew on a surface level that such a problem isn't a good thing, it was very interesting to see the PT and OT students using their knowledge to facilitate self-feeding and easier chewing and swallowing. It's a reflex that most of us take for granted, and yet one that has caused some of these precious children to miss out on certain important nutrients that they need to grow healthy and strong.
After our morning at the park, it was time for our lunch break. I should mention that meal times have been quite entertaining throughout this week. The professors and their spouses have been pretty hysterically funny, and I've really enjoyed getting to know some of the students. They all think I'm relatively crazy because, as usual, I talk too much and have managed to make them aware of pretty much all of my strange quirks (i.e. excessive obsession with Anne of Green Gables and The Five Love Languages, my strangely proper manner of speaking which I tend to forget is anything but normal, my distaste for all things creamy except ice cream...the usual). Amid all of this self-exposure, I have come to bond quite a bit with several of these girls, and also with professor Debbie and her husband Steven. Debbie has a daughter, also named Sarah, who also loves Anne of Green Gables. Apparently, they are planning on making a return trip to Prince Edward Island next summer and renting a beach house for a few weeks, and I have been cordially invited. Obviously, if it is at all possible, I will be THERE.
After lunch, we returned to our respective sites, and had another exhausting but satisfying afternoon. Before we went to our classrooms, we had the opportunity to meet with Celeste, the co-founder of Manos Unidos, who had just returned from a trip to the US. Celeste shed a lot of light on how things run at the school, and the vision of her and Mercedes (her co-founder) is pretty remarkable. They started Manos Unidos out of Mercedes' living room, and now it's a pretty awesome place. If any of you are interested in seeing the website, here it is: http://www.manosunidasperu.net/. Regarding Helmud the physical therapist, I seriously am trying to figure out how to get him to propose to me. He is clearly quite a compassionate fellow, and very sweet to talk to. He speaks a small bit of English, which is so adorable, and he also has very nice muscles. He will be headed to Norway this October to obtain a higher degree, and is looking to improve his English before then. (Here I am Helmud, ready to teach you! Tada!). Steven, who has quite a bit of construction experience, was also extremely helpful in fixing various issues within the school, including wheelchair breaks, door hinges, and such. I think they are very glad to have him.
I've been typing for longer than I intended, and now I simply must get myself to the market! Thanks for following along, and thanks for caring about these kids and for caring about me as I do what little I can to help them.
Besos y abrazos!
Sarah
I'm very much enjoying typing to all of you from my bed right now, where I've been happily able to sleep in after a busy and rather heart-wrenching week. In a bit, Laura and I are going to walk to our neighborhood market, where I'm contemplating buying a watermelon and definitely planning on buying some fresh flowers for our kitchen. I think it's going to be a beautiful day!
So let's rewind a bit to Wednesday so that I can give y'all an idea of what I've been up to with the students and professors of St. Scholastica. (Who, I might add, are all awesome.) I know I probably shouldn't pick a favorite group, so I will simply say that I find them to be fabulous to such a degree that I am trying to figure out how I might finagle a trip to Duluth, Minnesota to hang out with them. I can't say that there are many other enthralling factors drawing me to Duluth, so hopefully I've communicated my fondness for these lovely ladies (and of course Steven and John, the two males on the trip, one the spouse of a faculty member and one a professor).
So on Wednesday, the group of 14 plus Eliza and I boarded our van and headed first to a neighborhood in Cusco called San Luis, to a school called Manos Unidos. There. we were met by Claire, a lovely employee from New Zealand who serves as Volunteer Coordinator at the school. Celeste, the school's founder, was in the US (she's from the Seattle area), so Claire kindly gave us a tour. Manos Unidos was established about five years ago, and is a school for children with disabilities of various sorts. There are a number of autistic students, quite a few with cerebral palsy, some with Down's Syndrome, and others disabilities for which I don't know names. Presently in Peru, special education is not available as a curricular focus, and children with special needs are often ostracized from their families or described as "un poco mal" (which basically means "a little bad" or "a little unwell"). Manos Unidos is therefore a crucial and wonderful community force for increased awareness of special needs and how we can accommodate them.
The children in the school come from various degrees of socio-economic status, but the majority come from very poor households that cannot afford to send their children to special schools. Therefore, tuition for many students is covered by scholarships sponsored by donors in the US and elsewhere. There are morning classes until about 1 PM and afternoon programs, including individual physical therapy and stimulation sessions, from about 3 until 6. When we first walked through the school and visited the classrooms, things were bit chaotic. There were a lot of noises and people running around, and I think some of the St. Scholiastca students began to worry about whether or not they could be of help. Also definitely visible was the level of need of some students. For example, many of the children with cerebral palsy were sitting in donated wheelchairs that weren't customized to their size, which made it difficult to help them maintain a good posture or just be positioned comfortably. Furthermore, Cusco isn't very wheelchair-friendly outside of the city center, so many parents have to carry their children to and from Manos Unidos because the wheelchairs can't be brought back and forth between the home and the school. One class includes two brothers who both have cerebral palsy. They are the same size even though one brother is significantly older. This is due in large part to the older brother's malnutrition due to his inability to swallow most foods. These are just snapshots of the many needs that we saw in the school. Of course, amid all the need was also a great deal of joy--joy among the students, many of whom are finally able to feel loved and accepted at Manos Unidos, joy among the teachers, who have more patience and love for their students than you can imagine, and joy among those who visit the school, and who see that strides are being made to help children like this, even if the journey is long and arduous.
After our tour of Manos Unidos, we again piled into our van and drove a short distance to a second site, an orphanage of sorts called Santa Teresa de Calcutta. Six nuns--sisters of Mother Teresa--reside in the center, along with a large number of patients ranging from young children to the elderly. The center was surprisingly spacious, but the needs that we saw were gut-wrenching. We entered one room to find a woman lying on a couch, her face and body made unrecognizable due to burn marks. The sister who walked through the center with us informed us that the woman had been unwanted by her family, and that they had tried to burn her to death. In another room, the sister told us about a young boy whose family had treated him as one of their pigs throughout his early upbringing. As a result, when he came to the center, he refused to interact with other people or eat real food, wanting to return to his swine-ridden environment and eat scraps. It took three months for the sisters to make this boy comfortable among the other residents of the center. In yet another room, we came upon a group of volunteers, each sitting with a child and helping to feed him or her. The feeding process is apparently something of a process here, as many of the disabled residents are unable to feed themselves in an upright position.
When the time came to leave the Santa Teresa de Calcutta center for lunch, I felt that I had seen only a small slice of what was there, and yet almost more than I could bear. Both Manos Unidos and Santa Teresa de Calcutta reminded me of why I am here, and why I can never afford to make volunteerism anything less than a top priority in my life.
Lunch and dinners for the week are being prepared by two separate homestay families. I was surprised to hear that we would all be eating in these womens' homes, but they managed to fit us in comfortably and were very hospitable. The lunch cooks are definitely dependent on dairy products in their cooking, which means that I haven't been eating as much as I normally would in the way of almuerzo. Dinner, however, has been continuously delightful, and the chef, a lovely woman named Agripina, is just a gem. I've been enjoying the chance to get a taste of real Peruvian home cooking, and to just chat with Agripina.
After our emotionally exhausting morning, we decided to divide our group of 16 into two, half of whom would return to Manos Unidos and the other half to Santa Teresa. I was to accompany the Manos Unidos group, which consisted of a wonderful professor named Debbie, Debbie's husband Steven (our resident provider of comic relief!), Lindsay, Jenny, Emily, Keri, and Ashley. When we got back to the school, we divided into smaller groups. Emily, Lindsay, and Ashley went to a class of older students, including a few adults, who were focusing on skills such as handwriting and typing. Very appropriate for OT students. Keri and Jenny alternated between a classroom upstairs (where I remained to help with translation) and alongside Helmud, the afternoon physical therapist, who kindly agreed to allow the PT students to watch his sessions. (And who also happened to be quite guapo and potentially my future husband--I jest not). The afternoon was interesting. The girls in the older student/adult classroom did a wonderful job, patiently helping the students to write and later joining them in an impromptu "dance party." The physical therapy sessions with Helmud were great for Jenny and Keri, and Helmud was very open to allowing the girls both some hands-on time with the patients. The upstairs classroom where I sat was rather a madhouse, but all of us who spent any time up there quickly agreed that the teacher, Ruth, is a SAINT. She never loses her patience. She only has four students, but they are each uniquely challenging. Edher and Joaquin both have very little inclination to focus for any length of time, Matsue has quite a temper, and Nichole doesn't complete her work unless someone is beside her, singing to her. (On Wednesday, I sang pretty much the whole soundtrack to "The Sound of Music"!). Despite the difficulties within the classroom, it was interesting to see the great potential of each of the students as well. Most of them can speak if they choose to, and some have fine motor skills that are quite impressive. Debbie came in at one point and drew a road on the white board, which Edher and Joaquin happily "drove" with their toy cars, effectively following the curves that Debbie had incorporated. Watching Nichole work as we sang to her was eye-opening, and again reminded me of the healing power of music in our lives (Mozart makes you smarter--I really believe it!). The children are lovable and full of promise, and I hope that Manos Unidos can help to unlock some of their potential.
I had thought that these weeks with St. Scholastica would be less tiring than my week of manual labor with PITT, but I was very wrong. While this week's exhaustion has been of a different sort, it has been just as present. By the time we'd finished dinner at Agripina's on Wednesday night, we were all ready for a good night of sleep.
Said night of sleep was all the more crucial on Wednesday night because we had a long day ahead of us on Thursday. We left Cusco at 6 AM and drove about three hours to a region of Peru called Acopia. There, we again divided into two groups and visited two sites housing patients with special needs. One was a clinic for local community members in need of care, and the other was a health center run by a Catholic order and serving the very poorest members of the Acopia community and its outlying areas. After visiting both sites, we divided into our groups, and I accompanied John, Marie, Keri, Karen, Emily, Ashley, and Sarah to the Catholic health center. There we met a lovely doctor, who kindly introduced us to all of the patients one by one. I was particularly endeared to Roger, a 15-year old boy who had dislocated hips and an inability to walk. He spoke a little bit, but most of the time I saw him simply smiling with pure joy. What an experience to see someone in such dire straits who still possessed such "joie de vivre." It was incredible and humbling to behold. I also fell in love with a woman who had spent most of the past seven or so years lying on her stomach and unable to move independently. I'm not sure of what caused her ailments, but I know that she now spends most of each day in bed, knitting. What a beautiful spirit she had. She and I spoke a bit about her family and her hobbies, and as we spoke, I couldn't get over the sincerity of her smile and the optimism she possessed in spite of her circumstances. Lying in the next bed over was a very old woman who, when curled into the fetal position, looked no bigger than a child of maybe eight years of age. When she woke, I stopped by her bed to say hello, and realized, as she held my hands in hers and touched my cheeks and stroked my arm, that she was blind. She pulled me into an embrace and kissed my cheek again and again, simply seeking human touch. I was honored to be the human she happened to find in her embrace.
The doctors and nurses who provide care at the Catholic health center are all incredibly devoted and compassionate. It was clear, though, that there were skills that would be greatly helpful to them. And thus began a long day of great work. I was impressed by all of the St. Scholastica girls, who dove straight into their specialties, pairing up and working alongside nurses and doctors to try new rehabilitative exercises with the patients they thought would most benefit from them. Throughout the day, I was continually impressed as the students, with the help of John and his wife Marie, made awesome things happen. With the help of a foam wedge, Roger was able to reach out from a prone position, allowing him to be more independent with his upper body and experience a new position of comfort. Roy, an autistic teenager, showed such joy at simply having a playmate to throw a ball with him or laugh beside him. Clemente, the victim of an accident that left him immobile, was able to use his upper arm strength to transfer himself from his wheelchair to his bed with only minimal assistance. The St. Scholastica students didn't cease to impress me with their patience and sincere compassion for the well-being of everyone at the center. The doctor and the nurses were incredibly open to new ideas, and clearly had the best interests of their patients in mind. There was no pride and lots of collaboration, and by the day's end, we were exhausted but oh-so-satisfied. Alongside that satisfaction was, for many, a nagging feeling of frustration that we couldn't stay longer and do more, but I find that nagging feeling to be a necessity, and the force that brings us back to serving others again and again. I hope the feeling never leaves me. On the way back to Cusco, we stopped at a beautiful lake, where the view of mountains was truly incredible. When we arrived at the dinner location, one volunteer, Sarah, wasn't feeling well, so I took her back to the hostal while the others had dinner with Agripina. While I was sad to miss dinner, I was glad to reach my bed. Another long and wonderful day had left me quite pooped!
Finally, we arrive at Friday (yesterday), and another opportunity for my group of seven to visit Manos Unidos. In the morning, Jenny and Keri were given permission to work individually with some of the students with ceerbral palsy and other physical disabilities. Not only was it wonderful for the children to get some extra therapy time, but also for Jenny and Keri to be able to use their PT skills. Ashley and Lindsay and I again braved the upstairs classrooms, this time with students Alejandro and Franklin, both rather rambunctious boys who weren't particularly inclined to listen to teacher instructions. While they required great patience, they were both also quite lovable, and when we turned on some music and got them dancing, the happiness on their faces was undeniable. At around mid-morning, we joined two classes in a walk to the local park, which was quite an adventure. I first walked with a student named Sarina, who kept crying because she wanted to eat (which she apparently wants to do quite often), and then I walked with another little girl who kept trying to pick up trash from the ground and put it in her mouth. I became quite good at wresting plastic straws, twigs, and other paraphernalia from her grasp. Also at the park, we helped to feed the students a snack. While some of them could easily eat on their own, others needed individual assistance. It was interesting to watch Jenny work with one little girl, who hadn't learned to chew her food. We've been told that she spends most of each day on her back, and has had her food fed to her while inclined backward so she doesn't have to chew. While I knew on a surface level that such a problem isn't a good thing, it was very interesting to see the PT and OT students using their knowledge to facilitate self-feeding and easier chewing and swallowing. It's a reflex that most of us take for granted, and yet one that has caused some of these precious children to miss out on certain important nutrients that they need to grow healthy and strong.
After our morning at the park, it was time for our lunch break. I should mention that meal times have been quite entertaining throughout this week. The professors and their spouses have been pretty hysterically funny, and I've really enjoyed getting to know some of the students. They all think I'm relatively crazy because, as usual, I talk too much and have managed to make them aware of pretty much all of my strange quirks (i.e. excessive obsession with Anne of Green Gables and The Five Love Languages, my strangely proper manner of speaking which I tend to forget is anything but normal, my distaste for all things creamy except ice cream...the usual). Amid all of this self-exposure, I have come to bond quite a bit with several of these girls, and also with professor Debbie and her husband Steven. Debbie has a daughter, also named Sarah, who also loves Anne of Green Gables. Apparently, they are planning on making a return trip to Prince Edward Island next summer and renting a beach house for a few weeks, and I have been cordially invited. Obviously, if it is at all possible, I will be THERE.
After lunch, we returned to our respective sites, and had another exhausting but satisfying afternoon. Before we went to our classrooms, we had the opportunity to meet with Celeste, the co-founder of Manos Unidos, who had just returned from a trip to the US. Celeste shed a lot of light on how things run at the school, and the vision of her and Mercedes (her co-founder) is pretty remarkable. They started Manos Unidos out of Mercedes' living room, and now it's a pretty awesome place. If any of you are interested in seeing the website, here it is: http://www.manosunidasperu.net/. Regarding Helmud the physical therapist, I seriously am trying to figure out how to get him to propose to me. He is clearly quite a compassionate fellow, and very sweet to talk to. He speaks a small bit of English, which is so adorable, and he also has very nice muscles. He will be headed to Norway this October to obtain a higher degree, and is looking to improve his English before then. (Here I am Helmud, ready to teach you! Tada!). Steven, who has quite a bit of construction experience, was also extremely helpful in fixing various issues within the school, including wheelchair breaks, door hinges, and such. I think they are very glad to have him.
I've been typing for longer than I intended, and now I simply must get myself to the market! Thanks for following along, and thanks for caring about these kids and for caring about me as I do what little I can to help them.
Besos y abrazos!
Sarah
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
The Day of Excessive Eating
Hello, dear readers!
Hope you've all had a scrumptious Tuesday! I am rather exhausted after a long day of activity, but also grateful to be alive and excited about the awesomeness of our newest Cusco arrivals, 14 physical and occupational therapy students and professors. I'm going to be spending a lot of time with this particular group, and I'm excited both because they're a fabulous bunch and because I feel like I'm being trusted with a lot more in the way of group program coordination and execution. It's nice to have responsibilities and to be in charge. I feel as though I'm reverting back to my days as an overly-stressed high school student, and I have to say--that thrill of being in charge of a group continues to be rather addictive. (I was the student who, when forced to complete group work, made scripts and schedules and assignments for everyone to follow so that my grade wouldn't suffer at the hands of my untrustworthy peers...call me crazy if you want, but I prefer to call myself "lovingly bossy"...heh).
Anyway, today's group of arrivals came from the lovely land of Minnesota, specifically from The College of Saint Scholastica in Duluth. There are 9 students, all females, three professors, and two spouses, and they're just such an optimistic and friendly group. I'm always impressed when students emerge from the Cusco airport at some ungodly hour of the morning at 10,000 feet above sea level and still maintain their smiles! I got up bright and early to pick up this fine group from the aeropuerto, and after they had some time to rest, Lauren and I met them and walked them to lunch at Victor/Victoria. The particularly devoted readers among you might recall that my favorite meal until this point was had at Victor/Victoria, and today the place just outdid itself with an even better menu than the last! The first course was a sweet potato soup with the most deliciously flavorful broth containing some pork, three different types of potatoes, beans, and probably some other things of which I am comfortably unaware. It was one of the best soup experiences I've had in my life (and I've had many wonderful soup experiences!). So rustic and hearty. I need to find a way to get my hands on the receta! The soup was so filling that we really could have stopped there, but that's not exactly how the Peruvians roll, so we were "forced" to enjoy a super delicious second course, in my case a thinly-sliced chicken breast served under perfectly-cooked and seasoned lentils and rice. Dessert was thankfully a very tiny portion of tres leches. I don't know how so many of us managed to eat so much in a single meal, but everything was so good that we just couldn't help ourselves! I would call today's lunch the new "best meal I've had in Peru." Victor/Victoria has done it again!
After lunch, Eliza and I co-led orientation for the students, which offered another thrilling opportunity to take control and answer questions and feel super helpful. There's just no feeling quite like the one you get when you know you've legitimately helped someone out, and a very easy way to get that feeling is to become familiar with a foreign country and then work with groups of students who have never been to the country before and have lots of questions! :-) Brings me joy!
Once orientation ended, we had a brief rest period and then Laura and I escorted the group to dinner at La Boheme, a restaurant right off of the Plaza de Armas. During dinner, we were serenaded by a group of Andean brothers who perform together at a lot of the more touristy locations in Cusco. They're quite talented, and I'm especially impressed with the brother who plays this huge reed flute, which I'm pretty sure requires more air than I think I will ever possess in my lungs at this altitude! In addition to singing traditional Andean music, they do renditions of some popular pieces like "Guantanamera" and "Hey Jude." Pretty super fun. Dinner was good, though it didn't hold a candle to our lunch, and by the time we'd finished eating, we were all pretty well exhausted! Which brings me to my current position of relaxation in my bed. I'm hoping to make it through a few more chapters of Wuthering Heights before I collapse, but it's iffy.
Tomorrow, Eliza and I will be bringing the St. Scholastica group to the two sites where they'll be working over the next two weeks. It's going to be a busy time while they're here, but hopefully I'll have some updates soon on the sites where we're working and the work the students will be doing there.
I will end this blog with the exciting piece of news that is this: not only are Paul and Eileen Whitman coming to Peru, but also, and quite soon, Andrew and Brian Whitman! I'm so excited to have my brothers here for a while, and to force them to go salsa dancing with me and show them this intriguingly wonderful city that is Cusco!
Hasta pronto, amigos!
Hope you've all had a scrumptious Tuesday! I am rather exhausted after a long day of activity, but also grateful to be alive and excited about the awesomeness of our newest Cusco arrivals, 14 physical and occupational therapy students and professors. I'm going to be spending a lot of time with this particular group, and I'm excited both because they're a fabulous bunch and because I feel like I'm being trusted with a lot more in the way of group program coordination and execution. It's nice to have responsibilities and to be in charge. I feel as though I'm reverting back to my days as an overly-stressed high school student, and I have to say--that thrill of being in charge of a group continues to be rather addictive. (I was the student who, when forced to complete group work, made scripts and schedules and assignments for everyone to follow so that my grade wouldn't suffer at the hands of my untrustworthy peers...call me crazy if you want, but I prefer to call myself "lovingly bossy"...heh).
Anyway, today's group of arrivals came from the lovely land of Minnesota, specifically from The College of Saint Scholastica in Duluth. There are 9 students, all females, three professors, and two spouses, and they're just such an optimistic and friendly group. I'm always impressed when students emerge from the Cusco airport at some ungodly hour of the morning at 10,000 feet above sea level and still maintain their smiles! I got up bright and early to pick up this fine group from the aeropuerto, and after they had some time to rest, Lauren and I met them and walked them to lunch at Victor/Victoria. The particularly devoted readers among you might recall that my favorite meal until this point was had at Victor/Victoria, and today the place just outdid itself with an even better menu than the last! The first course was a sweet potato soup with the most deliciously flavorful broth containing some pork, three different types of potatoes, beans, and probably some other things of which I am comfortably unaware. It was one of the best soup experiences I've had in my life (and I've had many wonderful soup experiences!). So rustic and hearty. I need to find a way to get my hands on the receta! The soup was so filling that we really could have stopped there, but that's not exactly how the Peruvians roll, so we were "forced" to enjoy a super delicious second course, in my case a thinly-sliced chicken breast served under perfectly-cooked and seasoned lentils and rice. Dessert was thankfully a very tiny portion of tres leches. I don't know how so many of us managed to eat so much in a single meal, but everything was so good that we just couldn't help ourselves! I would call today's lunch the new "best meal I've had in Peru." Victor/Victoria has done it again!
After lunch, Eliza and I co-led orientation for the students, which offered another thrilling opportunity to take control and answer questions and feel super helpful. There's just no feeling quite like the one you get when you know you've legitimately helped someone out, and a very easy way to get that feeling is to become familiar with a foreign country and then work with groups of students who have never been to the country before and have lots of questions! :-) Brings me joy!
Once orientation ended, we had a brief rest period and then Laura and I escorted the group to dinner at La Boheme, a restaurant right off of the Plaza de Armas. During dinner, we were serenaded by a group of Andean brothers who perform together at a lot of the more touristy locations in Cusco. They're quite talented, and I'm especially impressed with the brother who plays this huge reed flute, which I'm pretty sure requires more air than I think I will ever possess in my lungs at this altitude! In addition to singing traditional Andean music, they do renditions of some popular pieces like "Guantanamera" and "Hey Jude." Pretty super fun. Dinner was good, though it didn't hold a candle to our lunch, and by the time we'd finished eating, we were all pretty well exhausted! Which brings me to my current position of relaxation in my bed. I'm hoping to make it through a few more chapters of Wuthering Heights before I collapse, but it's iffy.
Tomorrow, Eliza and I will be bringing the St. Scholastica group to the two sites where they'll be working over the next two weeks. It's going to be a busy time while they're here, but hopefully I'll have some updates soon on the sites where we're working and the work the students will be doing there.
I will end this blog with the exciting piece of news that is this: not only are Paul and Eileen Whitman coming to Peru, but also, and quite soon, Andrew and Brian Whitman! I'm so excited to have my brothers here for a while, and to force them to go salsa dancing with me and show them this intriguingly wonderful city that is Cusco!
Hasta pronto, amigos!
Monday, May 16, 2011
God is Good, and Angels are Real, and I'm Alive!
Hi there friends,
I had hoped to blog for y'all yesterday, but an unexpected turn of events resulted in a bit of a delay. Before I get to that, let me tell you about the lovely Sunday that I enjoyed until that point.
I began yesterday by going to mass at Cusco's Cathedral. I had never been inside of it before, and it was very beautiful and very European in its architecture. The art inside, though, was much like the art I'd seen in the Palacio Arzobispol, a fusion of Catholic themes and Cusco School techniques. Particularly interesting was the three-dimensional crucifix in which Chris is depicted as an African American. I learned that in Cusco, the city's patron saint is Jesus Christ in the role of "Our Lord of Earthquakes." It is believed that he watches over Cusco when earthquakes threaten the city, and under this title, he is always depicted as dark-skinned.
The mass itself was crowded, but still peaceful. I was initially distressed to realize that the Cathedral doesn't provide a "cheat sheet" with congregational responses in Spanish like they do at La Compania, but it became an opportunity to practice my comprehension. The theme of the readings and the responsorial psalms was "el buen pastor," or "the good shepherd," so luckily I had enough familiarity to follow the main points of the readings and the sermon. I was particularly moved to hear Psalm 23 in Spanish, which became all the more relevant as my day went on. I don't know if it's because I need mass more here or because I'm maturing, but I find that lately, no matter what the readings are at church, I find them to be relevant and applicable. At home, I often grow frustrated because priests frequently don't relate their sermons or homilies to the readings, but here, that hasn't been the case, and I've felt truly at peace during the times that I've sat in church to pray. The only continual difficulty for me is communion, which I'm accustomed to receiving in an organized fashion. Here, it's pretty much a free-for-all, and I never know when and whether I should get up and take communion or not because every person sort of does his or her own thing. As a result, yesterday I didn't do anything because nobody near me made any movement to walk up to the altar. I should be accustomed to this since it was the same way in Spain, but it continues to amuse and confuse me!
After mass, the plaza was again filled with activists parading through the streets. I'm still not quite sure how the celebrations work here because it seems like there's something going on in the plaza pretty much every Sunday, but never quite the same thing. Yesterday, there were groups of people holding signs and marching through the Plaza de Armas, and there was a wall again plastered with documents about the conspiratorial relationships of Alberto Fujimori, the father of presidential candidate Keiko Fujimori.
After church, I was quite famished, and having a craving for some nice, American pancakes. I decided to go to Jack's, an Australian-run place known for having a pretty standard American breakfast menu. Sadly, there was a long line there and no outdoor seating, so I decided to walk around and explore alternative options. My search wasn't super fruitful, so I eventually settled on a place I'd been to before, called Inka Fe, where I enjoyed some really good scrambled eggs and toast and a cup of tea. When I finished my leisurely breakfast, I headed for the Plaza de Regoncijo, where I sat in the sunshine and enjoyed some reading of Wuthering Heights, my latest book choice which is proving thoroughly engaging. I may have mentioned this at some point before, but it's interesting to me that Peruvian people have absolutely NO qualms when it comes to interrupting someone who is clearly reading. People selling things in which I am not at all interested would repeatedly come and stand beside me and say, "Miss? Miss?" until I gave them my attention, only for them to hear me say, "No gracias." Again and again. It's one of the more irritating aspects of downtown Cusco, and one of the reasons that I prefer the Plaza San Blas.
Also during my attempt at relaxing reading, an old man sitting next to me on my bench struck up a conversation which ended up lasting quite a while. He apparently owns a hospedaje (a hostel, basically) in Cusco with thirty rooms, and he was asking me about my stay in Cusco and how long I was here and how I liked it and stuff. Then he started asking me if I like chiccha, a Cusco beverage specialty made from the big purple corn they grow here. I told him I'm not a huge fan (which was accurate), and then he asked if I liked wine and if I liked chicken. Well of COURSE I like wine and chicken. Who doesn't? I think he realized that these questions would almost certainly garner him a "yes," so he then asked me to go out with him for one or the other. I told him that I couldn't because I was meeting my roommate to greet her upon her return from a weekend trip to Urubamba (which was only slightly untrue--Laura really was in Urubamba, but I had no obligation to provide a welcome reception...heh.) I just felt that it probably wouldn't be wise to go out with a random man who looked to be 60-something and who held my hand for an exceedingly long time after shaking it in greeting. I felt this hesitation even more strongly when I reflected on the mockery I received from my Spain study abroad friends when I followed an old Spanish man (at his request) to see an abandoned church in Salamanca. Probably not my smartest maneuver. I also just didn't want to go! I wanted to sit and enjoy Wuthering Heights, and I can't seem to figure out how to communicate that desire to people since sitting with the book open on my lap and looking at it is apparently insufficient. Argh.
Finally, my gentleman friend left, and I relocated to another bench across the plaza to get a bit more shade. This time, I was approached by a young girl (20-something?) who asked me if I spoke English. It turns out that she's here for two months or so from a university in Canada (Mount Royal, I believe) and that she's conducting a study on travel and ecotourism. I agreed to fill out a survey for her, and when she realized that I was a friendly human, she asked if I wouldn't mind also answering the questions on a video camera. I agreed, and am pretty sure that I'm going to be famous someday very soon. Look out, world!
My next stop was at the ChocoMuseo, a chocolate museum overlooking the plaza where I'd been sitting. Laura actually went there a few months ago with her boyfriend Erich, and she'd been telling me how cool it was, so I decided to check it out. Admission was free, always a plus, and almost as soon as I walked in, I was given a complimentary cup of chocolate-infused tea which was very tasty. The museum was also very informative and well-translated into English, so I took turns reading information in Spanish and English depending on how complicated it looked. :-) I learned that the origins of the word "chocolate" are uncertain, and there are at least five possibilities from various Incan and Mayan dialects that could explain it. Word nerd that I am, I found this to be one of the more intriguing chocolate facts. After I finished browsing, I decided to order a cup of hot chocolate, firstly because I assume that a chocolate museum would make a pretty delicious cup of such a thing, and secondly because I wanted to drink it while sitting on their balcony seat overlooking the plaza. While the latter of those desires was met, the hot chocolate was only okay. I had again been expecting the European, melted chocolate bar sort of stuff, but this hot chocolate required that I personally mix hot milk into some melted chocolate, and the idea of hot milk is just not pleasant to me. I did like that they provided cinnamon stick shavings and cloves for me to spice things up. I think I would perhaps like to attend one of their chocolate making workshops later in the summer. A few Duke students were also interested, so we might make a day out of it.
After the ChocoMuseo, I headed to the Monasterio de Santa Catalina, which I would say is the most beautiful place I've seen in Peru to date. It was so serene and prayerful, and I loved learning about the founding of the order and the 25 nuns who made up the first Benedictine Order at this particular monasterio. The monastery is still active, but a good portion of it has been established as a museum, and it was so interesting to see the simplicity with which the nuns ate, prayed, and lived. I've always wondered about what it's like to live as a nun, and to actually see the size of their individual quarters and to stand in the places where they walked was surreal and beautiful. There was also a set of paintings attributed to the life of Saint Rose, which I found particularly interesting as Saint Rose is the name of my home church in NJ. To seal the deal making the monastery one of my favorite places I've been, I met the most lovely woman selling bread outside of the monastery's entrance. Her name is Dominga, and she has a motherliness about her that just made my heart swell. She told me that she wants to become better at speaking English, and I told her that perhaps we could practice together. I'm supposed to meet her next Sunday afternoon at the same place, and I'm excited to see her again. She was so full of joy.
After my visit to the monastery, I headed home, where I relaxed and read a bit more. Laura came down shortly from a nap after her busy weekend in Urubamba, and we caught up on what we'd been up to since we'd last seen each other. Then we made dinner, both attempting to use our vegetables before the "week of free meals" begins! After dinner, I decided to do what I'd promised myself and make use of the big jacuzzi sitting off of our kitchen. And that's my segue into my first legitimate near death experience (and hopefully last for a long time!).
So as my house tour pictures may(?) indicate, to get to the jacuzzi tub, you actually walk through the laundry room where the gas heater is and then slide open a clear door to enter the bathtub. Since the door is clear, if you want to get a bath without flashing anyone, you need to close the door to the laundry room, which I did. Laura was in the kitchen on her computer, and I told her I was going to get a bath and then shut the door. The tub was pretty large, and once it had filled up about an inch, I decided to sit in it as it filled and read some more of Wuthering Heights. I was all set--I had a little bag of strawberry gummies that I was pretty excited about eating, and my razor, and face wash, and shampoo and conditioner. All was well. I vaguely remember smelling a bit of gas, but I didn't really think much of it since our house is gas-heated, but then, probably about ten minutes after the water had started flowing, I had the feeling that something wasn't right. I felt much like I'd felt on a few occasions in my adolescent years just before passing out, and so I took the few seconds of consciousness I had left to wrap a towel around myself and get out of the tub. Thank God Laura was still in the kitchen on her computer. I remember saying something to her, like "I don't feel right," or something like that, and then I don't remember anything for the next fifteen minutes.
When I finally came to, Laura was holding me up as I sat at one of our kitchen chairs. She was repeating my name again and again. Once I could see clearly enough to make out where I was, Laura told me what had happened. Apparently, she'd seen me come out of the bathroom door and noted that I didn't look right and helped guide me to the kitchen chair a few feet away. Then I went out of consciousness and apparently made a lot of strange noises that made her think I was going to have a seizure or something. (In retrospect, I think they were noises that I was making as I tried to get oxygen into my lungs.) She didn't want to leave me, but she ran upstairs quickly to get her phone and call Eliza, who lives only a few blocks away. While Laura waited for help, she checked my pulse regularly and helped me to sit reasonably upright. I don't remember any of this, but I do know that Laura is a lifesaver. Literally. Eliza ran over along with her roommate Jenny, and just about when they arrived was when I became able to see and talk a little bit. When I did wake up, I was embarrassed to be sitting in only a towel and looking, I'm sure, less than attractive and probably somewhat blue-faced. I also felt pretty horrible--like getting up and walking was probably not a good idea, and like I was exhausted and nauseated and achy. The girls helped me to the couch, and Eliza brought me some pajamas from my room and Jenny brought down a pillow and some blankets. I really just wanted to go to sleep, but I was sort of scared to do so because of the gas I'd inhaled, and Laura was keeping continuous vigil over me, and I know that falling asleep would have worried her too. Eliza decided that we should probably call a doctor, so she called the clinic that ProWorld uses, and in about 20 minutes, a doctor (Grover) arrived. He was very nice and he asked me about any medications I was taking and put a little sensor on my finger and took my blood pressure. He confirmed our diagnosis that I'd been exposed to carbon monoxide, probably due to several factors including the fact that I'd been enclosed with the gas heater--and hot running water powered by said heater--and also the fact that it had been 9 PM, when the water pressure tends to be less forceful and therefore needful of more gas to power it. The doctor told me that I would probably have a headache and a bit of dizziness for a day or two (which I am indeed experiencing), but said that I was going to be okay, and gave me the go ahead to sleep.
While this may not sound quite as traumatic in blog form, it was truly the closest I've ever been to death. Not only has it reminded me that God is good and that He works in mysterious ways, but also that He has angels working for him here. I thank God that I decided to take a bath on the night that Laura was home and in the next room. If I'd done it the night before, she'd have been in Urubamba, and I'd have been alone in the house. I thank God also for the times I've fainted in my past, not because any of them were remotely enjoyable, but because knowing what it feels like to be about to pass out is what made me realize that I had to get out of the tub, and just in time. I thank God for Eliza and Jenny, and how watchful and caring they were by running to get here and help me so quickly. And I am pretty much forever indebted to Laura, who, though not at all a medical professional, took care of me like her own child, and is pretty much the reason I'm alive right now. I really do not know that I would be alive and breathing right now if not for her. For that and for many other reasons, God is oh so very very good.
I am thankful to be alive and in Peru, and I thank all of you who have been praying for me while I've been here. It's obvious that I need it! No more gas-heated jacuzzis for me!
I had hoped to blog for y'all yesterday, but an unexpected turn of events resulted in a bit of a delay. Before I get to that, let me tell you about the lovely Sunday that I enjoyed until that point.
I began yesterday by going to mass at Cusco's Cathedral. I had never been inside of it before, and it was very beautiful and very European in its architecture. The art inside, though, was much like the art I'd seen in the Palacio Arzobispol, a fusion of Catholic themes and Cusco School techniques. Particularly interesting was the three-dimensional crucifix in which Chris is depicted as an African American. I learned that in Cusco, the city's patron saint is Jesus Christ in the role of "Our Lord of Earthquakes." It is believed that he watches over Cusco when earthquakes threaten the city, and under this title, he is always depicted as dark-skinned.
The mass itself was crowded, but still peaceful. I was initially distressed to realize that the Cathedral doesn't provide a "cheat sheet" with congregational responses in Spanish like they do at La Compania, but it became an opportunity to practice my comprehension. The theme of the readings and the responsorial psalms was "el buen pastor," or "the good shepherd," so luckily I had enough familiarity to follow the main points of the readings and the sermon. I was particularly moved to hear Psalm 23 in Spanish, which became all the more relevant as my day went on. I don't know if it's because I need mass more here or because I'm maturing, but I find that lately, no matter what the readings are at church, I find them to be relevant and applicable. At home, I often grow frustrated because priests frequently don't relate their sermons or homilies to the readings, but here, that hasn't been the case, and I've felt truly at peace during the times that I've sat in church to pray. The only continual difficulty for me is communion, which I'm accustomed to receiving in an organized fashion. Here, it's pretty much a free-for-all, and I never know when and whether I should get up and take communion or not because every person sort of does his or her own thing. As a result, yesterday I didn't do anything because nobody near me made any movement to walk up to the altar. I should be accustomed to this since it was the same way in Spain, but it continues to amuse and confuse me!
After mass, the plaza was again filled with activists parading through the streets. I'm still not quite sure how the celebrations work here because it seems like there's something going on in the plaza pretty much every Sunday, but never quite the same thing. Yesterday, there were groups of people holding signs and marching through the Plaza de Armas, and there was a wall again plastered with documents about the conspiratorial relationships of Alberto Fujimori, the father of presidential candidate Keiko Fujimori.
After church, I was quite famished, and having a craving for some nice, American pancakes. I decided to go to Jack's, an Australian-run place known for having a pretty standard American breakfast menu. Sadly, there was a long line there and no outdoor seating, so I decided to walk around and explore alternative options. My search wasn't super fruitful, so I eventually settled on a place I'd been to before, called Inka Fe, where I enjoyed some really good scrambled eggs and toast and a cup of tea. When I finished my leisurely breakfast, I headed for the Plaza de Regoncijo, where I sat in the sunshine and enjoyed some reading of Wuthering Heights, my latest book choice which is proving thoroughly engaging. I may have mentioned this at some point before, but it's interesting to me that Peruvian people have absolutely NO qualms when it comes to interrupting someone who is clearly reading. People selling things in which I am not at all interested would repeatedly come and stand beside me and say, "Miss? Miss?" until I gave them my attention, only for them to hear me say, "No gracias." Again and again. It's one of the more irritating aspects of downtown Cusco, and one of the reasons that I prefer the Plaza San Blas.
Also during my attempt at relaxing reading, an old man sitting next to me on my bench struck up a conversation which ended up lasting quite a while. He apparently owns a hospedaje (a hostel, basically) in Cusco with thirty rooms, and he was asking me about my stay in Cusco and how long I was here and how I liked it and stuff. Then he started asking me if I like chiccha, a Cusco beverage specialty made from the big purple corn they grow here. I told him I'm not a huge fan (which was accurate), and then he asked if I liked wine and if I liked chicken. Well of COURSE I like wine and chicken. Who doesn't? I think he realized that these questions would almost certainly garner him a "yes," so he then asked me to go out with him for one or the other. I told him that I couldn't because I was meeting my roommate to greet her upon her return from a weekend trip to Urubamba (which was only slightly untrue--Laura really was in Urubamba, but I had no obligation to provide a welcome reception...heh.) I just felt that it probably wouldn't be wise to go out with a random man who looked to be 60-something and who held my hand for an exceedingly long time after shaking it in greeting. I felt this hesitation even more strongly when I reflected on the mockery I received from my Spain study abroad friends when I followed an old Spanish man (at his request) to see an abandoned church in Salamanca. Probably not my smartest maneuver. I also just didn't want to go! I wanted to sit and enjoy Wuthering Heights, and I can't seem to figure out how to communicate that desire to people since sitting with the book open on my lap and looking at it is apparently insufficient. Argh.
Finally, my gentleman friend left, and I relocated to another bench across the plaza to get a bit more shade. This time, I was approached by a young girl (20-something?) who asked me if I spoke English. It turns out that she's here for two months or so from a university in Canada (Mount Royal, I believe) and that she's conducting a study on travel and ecotourism. I agreed to fill out a survey for her, and when she realized that I was a friendly human, she asked if I wouldn't mind also answering the questions on a video camera. I agreed, and am pretty sure that I'm going to be famous someday very soon. Look out, world!
My next stop was at the ChocoMuseo, a chocolate museum overlooking the plaza where I'd been sitting. Laura actually went there a few months ago with her boyfriend Erich, and she'd been telling me how cool it was, so I decided to check it out. Admission was free, always a plus, and almost as soon as I walked in, I was given a complimentary cup of chocolate-infused tea which was very tasty. The museum was also very informative and well-translated into English, so I took turns reading information in Spanish and English depending on how complicated it looked. :-) I learned that the origins of the word "chocolate" are uncertain, and there are at least five possibilities from various Incan and Mayan dialects that could explain it. Word nerd that I am, I found this to be one of the more intriguing chocolate facts. After I finished browsing, I decided to order a cup of hot chocolate, firstly because I assume that a chocolate museum would make a pretty delicious cup of such a thing, and secondly because I wanted to drink it while sitting on their balcony seat overlooking the plaza. While the latter of those desires was met, the hot chocolate was only okay. I had again been expecting the European, melted chocolate bar sort of stuff, but this hot chocolate required that I personally mix hot milk into some melted chocolate, and the idea of hot milk is just not pleasant to me. I did like that they provided cinnamon stick shavings and cloves for me to spice things up. I think I would perhaps like to attend one of their chocolate making workshops later in the summer. A few Duke students were also interested, so we might make a day out of it.
After the ChocoMuseo, I headed to the Monasterio de Santa Catalina, which I would say is the most beautiful place I've seen in Peru to date. It was so serene and prayerful, and I loved learning about the founding of the order and the 25 nuns who made up the first Benedictine Order at this particular monasterio. The monastery is still active, but a good portion of it has been established as a museum, and it was so interesting to see the simplicity with which the nuns ate, prayed, and lived. I've always wondered about what it's like to live as a nun, and to actually see the size of their individual quarters and to stand in the places where they walked was surreal and beautiful. There was also a set of paintings attributed to the life of Saint Rose, which I found particularly interesting as Saint Rose is the name of my home church in NJ. To seal the deal making the monastery one of my favorite places I've been, I met the most lovely woman selling bread outside of the monastery's entrance. Her name is Dominga, and she has a motherliness about her that just made my heart swell. She told me that she wants to become better at speaking English, and I told her that perhaps we could practice together. I'm supposed to meet her next Sunday afternoon at the same place, and I'm excited to see her again. She was so full of joy.
After my visit to the monastery, I headed home, where I relaxed and read a bit more. Laura came down shortly from a nap after her busy weekend in Urubamba, and we caught up on what we'd been up to since we'd last seen each other. Then we made dinner, both attempting to use our vegetables before the "week of free meals" begins! After dinner, I decided to do what I'd promised myself and make use of the big jacuzzi sitting off of our kitchen. And that's my segue into my first legitimate near death experience (and hopefully last for a long time!).
So as my house tour pictures may(?) indicate, to get to the jacuzzi tub, you actually walk through the laundry room where the gas heater is and then slide open a clear door to enter the bathtub. Since the door is clear, if you want to get a bath without flashing anyone, you need to close the door to the laundry room, which I did. Laura was in the kitchen on her computer, and I told her I was going to get a bath and then shut the door. The tub was pretty large, and once it had filled up about an inch, I decided to sit in it as it filled and read some more of Wuthering Heights. I was all set--I had a little bag of strawberry gummies that I was pretty excited about eating, and my razor, and face wash, and shampoo and conditioner. All was well. I vaguely remember smelling a bit of gas, but I didn't really think much of it since our house is gas-heated, but then, probably about ten minutes after the water had started flowing, I had the feeling that something wasn't right. I felt much like I'd felt on a few occasions in my adolescent years just before passing out, and so I took the few seconds of consciousness I had left to wrap a towel around myself and get out of the tub. Thank God Laura was still in the kitchen on her computer. I remember saying something to her, like "I don't feel right," or something like that, and then I don't remember anything for the next fifteen minutes.
When I finally came to, Laura was holding me up as I sat at one of our kitchen chairs. She was repeating my name again and again. Once I could see clearly enough to make out where I was, Laura told me what had happened. Apparently, she'd seen me come out of the bathroom door and noted that I didn't look right and helped guide me to the kitchen chair a few feet away. Then I went out of consciousness and apparently made a lot of strange noises that made her think I was going to have a seizure or something. (In retrospect, I think they were noises that I was making as I tried to get oxygen into my lungs.) She didn't want to leave me, but she ran upstairs quickly to get her phone and call Eliza, who lives only a few blocks away. While Laura waited for help, she checked my pulse regularly and helped me to sit reasonably upright. I don't remember any of this, but I do know that Laura is a lifesaver. Literally. Eliza ran over along with her roommate Jenny, and just about when they arrived was when I became able to see and talk a little bit. When I did wake up, I was embarrassed to be sitting in only a towel and looking, I'm sure, less than attractive and probably somewhat blue-faced. I also felt pretty horrible--like getting up and walking was probably not a good idea, and like I was exhausted and nauseated and achy. The girls helped me to the couch, and Eliza brought me some pajamas from my room and Jenny brought down a pillow and some blankets. I really just wanted to go to sleep, but I was sort of scared to do so because of the gas I'd inhaled, and Laura was keeping continuous vigil over me, and I know that falling asleep would have worried her too. Eliza decided that we should probably call a doctor, so she called the clinic that ProWorld uses, and in about 20 minutes, a doctor (Grover) arrived. He was very nice and he asked me about any medications I was taking and put a little sensor on my finger and took my blood pressure. He confirmed our diagnosis that I'd been exposed to carbon monoxide, probably due to several factors including the fact that I'd been enclosed with the gas heater--and hot running water powered by said heater--and also the fact that it had been 9 PM, when the water pressure tends to be less forceful and therefore needful of more gas to power it. The doctor told me that I would probably have a headache and a bit of dizziness for a day or two (which I am indeed experiencing), but said that I was going to be okay, and gave me the go ahead to sleep.
While this may not sound quite as traumatic in blog form, it was truly the closest I've ever been to death. Not only has it reminded me that God is good and that He works in mysterious ways, but also that He has angels working for him here. I thank God that I decided to take a bath on the night that Laura was home and in the next room. If I'd done it the night before, she'd have been in Urubamba, and I'd have been alone in the house. I thank God also for the times I've fainted in my past, not because any of them were remotely enjoyable, but because knowing what it feels like to be about to pass out is what made me realize that I had to get out of the tub, and just in time. I thank God for Eliza and Jenny, and how watchful and caring they were by running to get here and help me so quickly. And I am pretty much forever indebted to Laura, who, though not at all a medical professional, took care of me like her own child, and is pretty much the reason I'm alive right now. I really do not know that I would be alive and breathing right now if not for her. For that and for many other reasons, God is oh so very very good.
I am thankful to be alive and in Peru, and I thank all of you who have been praying for me while I've been here. It's obvious that I need it! No more gas-heated jacuzzis for me!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The House Tour You've All Been Waiting For!
Hi friends! I know that I promised a tour of my apartment weeks ago, but the process of uploading pictures is terribly tedious, and I didn't have time for such folly until now! Without further adieu, here is the humble abode which Laura and I currently call "home sweet home." :-)
First, the major highlights. The gigantic bathtub (yet to be used--I think I might have to fix that...perhaps tomorrow!) and the washing machine. These amenities, plus our wireless internet, will be the most difficult items to leave when we switch to apartment number two in a few weeks.
In addition to these lovely first floor amenities, we have a nice little common room, a kitchen, and a small bathroom. The downstairs bathroom isn't really worth the upload time, but if you really want to see it, you can fly here and I'll show it to you. :-) Featured in the kitchen photo is beautiful Laura, and on our kitchen table are some flowers that I bought at the Huancaro Mercado for the equivalent of about thirty cents. Joyful insanity.
We shall now proceed upstairs, where the first room you encounter is our studyish, libraryish area. We don't actually make a whole lot of use of this space, but I love looking through the books, many of which are pretty great, and occasionally Laura "fixes" our internet connection by unplugging and replugging the router into the wall.
Next is the forbidden room, which we are for some reason not supposed to use. Luckily, we have no real need for it, but we do pass through it en route to our upstairs patio. I wish that we could make more use of our patio as a place for relaxing in the sunshine, but it gets dusty approximately five seconds after it's been dusted, so it has primarily functioned as a place for us to hang our laundry to dry.
Next, we enter my room, which, as you can see, has awesome purple walls. The desk in the picture is no longer in my room because I moved it to make more space for exercising and practicing yoga. Directly across from my room is Laura's room, and at the end of the hall, in between our rooms, is the bathroom, which has a pretty awesome shower that always gets hot and has a little ledge for me to use when I shave my legs (which I do every time that I shower because smooth legs are awesome).
And that, my friends, is my house. As some of the more observant readers may have noticed, there are quite a few textile items hanging on the walls of various rooms. This is because the owner of our apartment is affiliated with Cusco's Center for Traditional Textiles. Basically, if a stranger were to enter our apartamento, he or she would think we were hardcore Peruvians...that is, until they lay eyes upon my blond hair and our pale complexions. We can only do so much...
Sleep well, amigos!
First, the major highlights. The gigantic bathtub (yet to be used--I think I might have to fix that...perhaps tomorrow!) and the washing machine. These amenities, plus our wireless internet, will be the most difficult items to leave when we switch to apartment number two in a few weeks.
In addition to these lovely first floor amenities, we have a nice little common room, a kitchen, and a small bathroom. The downstairs bathroom isn't really worth the upload time, but if you really want to see it, you can fly here and I'll show it to you. :-) Featured in the kitchen photo is beautiful Laura, and on our kitchen table are some flowers that I bought at the Huancaro Mercado for the equivalent of about thirty cents. Joyful insanity.
We shall now proceed upstairs, where the first room you encounter is our studyish, libraryish area. We don't actually make a whole lot of use of this space, but I love looking through the books, many of which are pretty great, and occasionally Laura "fixes" our internet connection by unplugging and replugging the router into the wall.
Next is the forbidden room, which we are for some reason not supposed to use. Luckily, we have no real need for it, but we do pass through it en route to our upstairs patio. I wish that we could make more use of our patio as a place for relaxing in the sunshine, but it gets dusty approximately five seconds after it's been dusted, so it has primarily functioned as a place for us to hang our laundry to dry.
Next, we enter my room, which, as you can see, has awesome purple walls. The desk in the picture is no longer in my room because I moved it to make more space for exercising and practicing yoga. Directly across from my room is Laura's room, and at the end of the hall, in between our rooms, is the bathroom, which has a pretty awesome shower that always gets hot and has a little ledge for me to use when I shave my legs (which I do every time that I shower because smooth legs are awesome).
And that, my friends, is my house. As some of the more observant readers may have noticed, there are quite a few textile items hanging on the walls of various rooms. This is because the owner of our apartment is affiliated with Cusco's Center for Traditional Textiles. Basically, if a stranger were to enter our apartamento, he or she would think we were hardcore Peruvians...that is, until they lay eyes upon my blond hair and our pale complexions. We can only do so much...
Sleep well, amigos!
"Composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey," William Wordsworth, 1798
FIVE years have past; five summers, with the length
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view 10
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, 20
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too 30
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world, 40
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft-- 50
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity, 60
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man 70
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.--I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes 90
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels 100
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 110
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once, 120
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 130
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 140
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence--wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream 150
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
Of five long winters! and again I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur.--Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Here, under this dark sycamore, and view 10
These plots of cottage-ground, these orchard-tufts,
Which at this season, with their unripe fruits,
Are clad in one green hue, and lose themselves
'Mid groves and copses. Once again I see
These hedge-rows, hardly hedge-rows, little lines
Of sportive wood run wild: these pastoral farms,
Green to the very door; and wreaths of smoke
Sent up, in silence, from among the trees!
With some uncertain notice, as might seem
Of vagrant dwellers in the houseless woods, 20
Or of some Hermit's cave, where by his fire
The Hermit sits alone.
These beauteous forms,
Through a long absence, have not been to me
As is a landscape to a blind man's eye:
But oft, in lonely rooms, and 'mid the din
Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensations sweet,
Felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
And passing even into my purer mind,
With tranquil restoration:--feelings too 30
Of unremembered pleasure: such, perhaps,
As have no slight or trivial influence
On that best portion of a good man's life,
His little, nameless, unremembered, acts
Of kindness and of love. Nor less, I trust,
To them I may have owed another gift,
Of aspect more sublime; that blessed mood,
In which the burthen of the mystery,
In which the heavy and the weary weight
Of all this unintelligible world, 40
Is lightened:--that serene and blessed mood,
In which the affections gently lead us on,--
Until, the breath of this corporeal frame
And even the motion of our human blood
Almost suspended, we are laid asleep
In body, and become a living soul:
While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
If this
Be but a vain belief, yet, oh! how oft-- 50
In darkness and amid the many shapes
Of joyless daylight; when the fretful stir
Unprofitable, and the fever of the world,
Have hung upon the beatings of my heart--
How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee,
O sylvan Wye! thou wanderer thro' the woods,
How often has my spirit turned to thee!
And now, with gleams of half-extinguished thought,
With many recognitions dim and faint,
And somewhat of a sad perplexity, 60
The picture of the mind revives again:
While here I stand, not only with the sense
Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts
That in this moment there is life and food
For future years. And so I dare to hope,
Though changed, no doubt, from what I was when first
I came among these hills; when like a roe
I bounded o'er the mountains, by the sides
Of the deep rivers, and the lonely streams,
Wherever nature led: more like a man 70
Flying from something that he dreads, than one
Who sought the thing he loved. For nature then
(The coarser pleasures of my boyish days,
And their glad animal movements all gone by)
To me was all in all.--I cannot paint
What then I was. The sounding cataract
Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock,
The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood,
Their colours and their forms, were then to me
An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80
That had no need of a remoter charm,
By thought supplied, nor any interest
Unborrowed from the eye.--That time is past,
And all its aching joys are now no more,
And all its dizzy raptures. Not for this
Faint I, nor mourn nor murmur, other gifts
Have followed; for such loss, I would believe,
Abundant recompence. For I have learned
To look on nature, not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes 90
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man;
A motion and a spirit, that impels 100
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things. Therefore am I still
A lover of the meadows and the woods,
And mountains; and of all that we behold
From this green earth; of all the mighty world
Of eye, and ear,--both what they half create,
And what perceive; well pleased to recognise
In nature and the language of the sense,
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul 110
Of all my moral being.
Nor perchance,
If I were not thus taught, should I the more
Suffer my genial spirits to decay:
For thou art with me here upon the banks
Of this fair river; thou my dearest Friend,
My dear, dear Friend; and in thy voice I catch
The language of my former heart, and read
My former pleasures in the shooting lights
Of thy wild eyes. Oh! yet a little while
May I behold in thee what I was once, 120
My dear, dear Sister! and this prayer I make,
Knowing that Nature never did betray
The heart that loved her; 'tis her privilege,
Through all the years of this our life, to lead
From joy to joy: for she can so inform
The mind that is within us, so impress
With quietness and beauty, and so feed
With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues,
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men,
Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 130
The dreary intercourse of daily life,
Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold
Is full of blessings. Therefore let the moon
Shine on thee in thy solitary walk;
And let the misty mountain-winds be free
To blow against thee: and, in after years,
When these wild ecstasies shall be matured
Into a sober pleasure; when thy mind
Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, 140
Thy memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh! then,
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief,
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations! Nor, perchance--
If I should be where I no more can hear
Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams
Of past existence--wilt thou then forget
That on the banks of this delightful stream 150
We stood together; and that I, so long
A worshipper of Nature, hither came
Unwearied in that service: rather say
With warmer love--oh! with far deeper zeal
Of holier love. Nor wilt thou then forget,
That after many wanderings, many years
Of absence, these steep woods and lofty cliffs,
And this green pastoral landscape, were to me
More dear, both for themselves and for thy sake!
Duke in the House!
Well, folks, Duke University is officially in Cusco! On Thursday, 20 Duke students arrived in Cusco on three different flights, which, for me, meant a splendid morning hanging out at the Cusco Airport. I'm not even being sarcastic when I say that the morning was "splendid." Cusco doesn't allow people to enter the airport unless they're boarding or disembarking from a flight, so I got to sit in the sunshine and read my book in between collecting groups of students. Luckily, Laura also helped with the pickup process, as one flight brought a whopping 15 students all at once!
Now that Duke is here, things have been rather busy. We've had several orientation sessions, three group meals, and a trolley tour of the city. Things went smoothly for the most part, and one of our meals, at a place called Victor Victoria, was THE best meal I've had in Cusco. Seriously delectable. It was a three course menu, beginning with a bowl of sopa de semolina (basically chicken broth with semolina in it and little pieces of french fries on top), followed by some reeeally great arroz con pollo, and then a dessert of vanilla custard, which I gave to the guy next to me after one spoonful because it was texturally unappealing. For those who judge my pickiness, please note that I did taste before rejecting!
While on the trolley tour, I sat next to a guy named David, and in our short conversation about our families and hometowns and such, we realized that I happen to know David's mother because she and I worked together a little bit at Bryn Mawr College! Small world, eh? I obviously plan on ensuring David's good behavior by threatening to call his mother, but really, he's super nice and responsible, so it's pretty much an empty threat. While I haven't had the opportunity to really get to know all 20 students yet, I've met a few that I really like, and I'm hoping that we'll be able to form some lovely friendships since they'll be here for almost two months. I'm feeling the urge to have a dinner party while Laura and I still live in our spacious apartment! Yesterday, the students were collected by their homestay families. 10 students will remain here in Cusco, and the other 10 will be 45 minutes away in Urubamba. Laura will be working more closely with them than me as far as project completion goes, but I'm excited to partake in some of their social activities!
By the time Friday evening rolled around, I was exhausted from all of the activities and running around relevant to getting the Duke students settled. For that reason, I allowed myself the luxury of sleeping in this morning until about 9 AM. Take THAT, Mom! (For those of you who do not know this, my parents raised my siblings and me in a household in which sleeping in was rarely permitted. In order to keep us from sleeping in, my mom has been known to unload the dishwasher at 8 AM on Saturday mornings, which she claims is unintentional...psssh.) Anyway, after my lazy morning, I decided to get out and enjoy the beautiful day. In an effort to avoid developing a big ol' potato belly, I've been trying to find ways to incorporate additional fitness into my life here in Cusco. With that in mind, I decided to hike myself up to Sacsayhuaman, an Incan ruin located at one of the highest points in the city of Cusco. Before beginning that adventure, I stopped at a very adorable little bakery on the Plaza de Regocijo. I'd been eyeing the place for a while, and I decided to go in and enjoy a nice vegetable omelette and some hot chocolate (which I ended up not drinking in its entirety because it wasn't the European-style melted chocolate bar stuff that I was craving). As I enjoyed my leisurely breakfast, I managed to finish my latest book, The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. Rather enjoyable, but not as good as The Samurai's Garden. My next read is The Life You Can Save, by Peter Singer, which I'll probably read simultaneously with something else that requires slightly less pondering...my version of a "beach read," you might say. The daytime weather here is just about perfect for sitting and reading books in various plazas, and I have to keep myself from reading for so long that I forget to walk around and explore more of the city!
After breakfast, I made my way to the foot of the road that leads to Sacsayhuaman. (And yes, it is indeed pronounced much like "sexy woman"--amusing, no?) The road to the ruin is actually not so much a road as a series of steps that climb rather steeply uphill. I definitely felt the altitude as I climbed, and I wasn't able to make it up very many steps before I'd have to stop and take a break. When I made it to the top of the "road," I discovered another set of steps that would take me to the actual site of the ruins. As I began the rather long ascent, I was joined by a young Peruvian guy, who struck up a conversation. At first, I thought he was another climber like myself, but it turned out that he was a trained guide, and wanted to see if I'd be interested in riding a horse up along a trail that would allow me to see several Incan sites and some beautiful mountain views. When he told me it would cost me 80 soles, I declined, but he then offered me a better price of 50 soles for a 1.5 hour ride, or 30 soles for a 40 minute ride. Eventually, I agreed to pay 40 soles for the 1.5 hour ride, which I thought was pretty decent (about $15) until I spoke with two English speakers on my way back down to Cusco who told me that they had just paid 20 soles each for the same thing! Foiled again. I'm a sucker. Despite this disappointing discovery, the ride on the horse was pretty beautiful, although I felt slightly weird to be doing it all by myself (with the exception of the 17-ish Peruvian boy who walked with me and kept the horse from dong anything wacky). The ride through the hills truly was beautiful, and the mountain views absolutely stunning. When we first began, I thought my horse (whom I've secretly named Percy) was going to fall on the rocky uphill paths we were following, but he clearly had experience carting other tourists along the same trail, so I pretty quickly felt confident that he wouldn't be the cause of my death.
After my guided tour was over, I hiked back down into Cusco and took a walk to the Mercado San Pedro. I restocked my fruit supply, buying some mangoes and oranges, and also bought some Peruvian chocolate, a little bag of almonds, and some wheat bread. I'm so tempted to buy tons of vegetables every time I go to the market, but I had to control myself today because this week, I'll be receiving nearly all of my meals from one of the homestay mothers who's been hired to cook for the student volunteers from The College of St. Scholastica. Nothing like a week of free food! (I just hope it doesn't involve much cheese...)
Here's a picture of a small section of the San Pedro Market by the way. Pretty ridonkulous.
Since I was tired and the sky looked rather ominous, I opted to take a cab back to my apartment, and after a little yoga routine, I got myself showered and clean and put in a load of laundry and sat myself down on the very couch where I am now typing this entry. Tomorrow, I'm going to try to go to church either at the Cusco Cathedral or at a church that I visited briefly today, called Santa Teresa, named after Saint Terese of Lisieux. Afterwards, I'm thinking of perhaps visiting a museum and then enjoying a peaceful afternoon in one of the plazas downtown. In the last few days, I've been thinking a lot about loneliness, mainly because I've been trying to figure myself out and determine whether or not I feel lonely here. Sometimes, I think to myself, "How nice it would be to have a companion to do 'x' with," but the feeling tends to be short-lived, and then I really appreciate the time that I'm able to spend in solitude. While I don't know exactly what these sentiments say about me, I do think that they're indicative of the likely frustration I would feel if I had a husband who wanted to spend every waking moment together. (aka if you're an eligible bachelor and you're reading this and you want to spend every minute with your significant other, I must sadly inform you that we cannot marry... :-)
Anyway, I bring up the subject of loneliness because it's caused me to ruminate a bit on one of my favorite poems, William Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey." I am going to post if for any interested paies in an entry directly following this one. For those of you who are generally averse to poetry, I would still suggest reading this particular work. Its implications are quite beautiful. Having read the poem by myself while standing just above Tintern Abbey (which is in Wales), the words have developed an even greater significance, and often come to mind when I encounter a beautiful sight while traveling solo.
In other super exciting news, Paul and Eileen Whitman have officially booked themselves tickets to CUSCO!!! They'll be here at the end of June, and while that's still a decent ways away, I'm already oh so excited to have them here! Does this inspire any of you other readers to come and visit? I again invite you all with open arms, and promise to spend whatever free time I have introducing you to the joys and quirks of Cusco!
Hasta pronto, amigos!
Now that Duke is here, things have been rather busy. We've had several orientation sessions, three group meals, and a trolley tour of the city. Things went smoothly for the most part, and one of our meals, at a place called Victor Victoria, was THE best meal I've had in Cusco. Seriously delectable. It was a three course menu, beginning with a bowl of sopa de semolina (basically chicken broth with semolina in it and little pieces of french fries on top), followed by some reeeally great arroz con pollo, and then a dessert of vanilla custard, which I gave to the guy next to me after one spoonful because it was texturally unappealing. For those who judge my pickiness, please note that I did taste before rejecting!
While on the trolley tour, I sat next to a guy named David, and in our short conversation about our families and hometowns and such, we realized that I happen to know David's mother because she and I worked together a little bit at Bryn Mawr College! Small world, eh? I obviously plan on ensuring David's good behavior by threatening to call his mother, but really, he's super nice and responsible, so it's pretty much an empty threat. While I haven't had the opportunity to really get to know all 20 students yet, I've met a few that I really like, and I'm hoping that we'll be able to form some lovely friendships since they'll be here for almost two months. I'm feeling the urge to have a dinner party while Laura and I still live in our spacious apartment! Yesterday, the students were collected by their homestay families. 10 students will remain here in Cusco, and the other 10 will be 45 minutes away in Urubamba. Laura will be working more closely with them than me as far as project completion goes, but I'm excited to partake in some of their social activities!
By the time Friday evening rolled around, I was exhausted from all of the activities and running around relevant to getting the Duke students settled. For that reason, I allowed myself the luxury of sleeping in this morning until about 9 AM. Take THAT, Mom! (For those of you who do not know this, my parents raised my siblings and me in a household in which sleeping in was rarely permitted. In order to keep us from sleeping in, my mom has been known to unload the dishwasher at 8 AM on Saturday mornings, which she claims is unintentional...psssh.) Anyway, after my lazy morning, I decided to get out and enjoy the beautiful day. In an effort to avoid developing a big ol' potato belly, I've been trying to find ways to incorporate additional fitness into my life here in Cusco. With that in mind, I decided to hike myself up to Sacsayhuaman, an Incan ruin located at one of the highest points in the city of Cusco. Before beginning that adventure, I stopped at a very adorable little bakery on the Plaza de Regocijo. I'd been eyeing the place for a while, and I decided to go in and enjoy a nice vegetable omelette and some hot chocolate (which I ended up not drinking in its entirety because it wasn't the European-style melted chocolate bar stuff that I was craving). As I enjoyed my leisurely breakfast, I managed to finish my latest book, The Namesake, by Jhumpa Lahiri. Rather enjoyable, but not as good as The Samurai's Garden. My next read is The Life You Can Save, by Peter Singer, which I'll probably read simultaneously with something else that requires slightly less pondering...my version of a "beach read," you might say. The daytime weather here is just about perfect for sitting and reading books in various plazas, and I have to keep myself from reading for so long that I forget to walk around and explore more of the city!
After breakfast, I made my way to the foot of the road that leads to Sacsayhuaman. (And yes, it is indeed pronounced much like "sexy woman"--amusing, no?) The road to the ruin is actually not so much a road as a series of steps that climb rather steeply uphill. I definitely felt the altitude as I climbed, and I wasn't able to make it up very many steps before I'd have to stop and take a break. When I made it to the top of the "road," I discovered another set of steps that would take me to the actual site of the ruins. As I began the rather long ascent, I was joined by a young Peruvian guy, who struck up a conversation. At first, I thought he was another climber like myself, but it turned out that he was a trained guide, and wanted to see if I'd be interested in riding a horse up along a trail that would allow me to see several Incan sites and some beautiful mountain views. When he told me it would cost me 80 soles, I declined, but he then offered me a better price of 50 soles for a 1.5 hour ride, or 30 soles for a 40 minute ride. Eventually, I agreed to pay 40 soles for the 1.5 hour ride, which I thought was pretty decent (about $15) until I spoke with two English speakers on my way back down to Cusco who told me that they had just paid 20 soles each for the same thing! Foiled again. I'm a sucker. Despite this disappointing discovery, the ride on the horse was pretty beautiful, although I felt slightly weird to be doing it all by myself (with the exception of the 17-ish Peruvian boy who walked with me and kept the horse from dong anything wacky). The ride through the hills truly was beautiful, and the mountain views absolutely stunning. When we first began, I thought my horse (whom I've secretly named Percy) was going to fall on the rocky uphill paths we were following, but he clearly had experience carting other tourists along the same trail, so I pretty quickly felt confident that he wouldn't be the cause of my death.
After my guided tour was over, I hiked back down into Cusco and took a walk to the Mercado San Pedro. I restocked my fruit supply, buying some mangoes and oranges, and also bought some Peruvian chocolate, a little bag of almonds, and some wheat bread. I'm so tempted to buy tons of vegetables every time I go to the market, but I had to control myself today because this week, I'll be receiving nearly all of my meals from one of the homestay mothers who's been hired to cook for the student volunteers from The College of St. Scholastica. Nothing like a week of free food! (I just hope it doesn't involve much cheese...)
Here's a picture of a small section of the San Pedro Market by the way. Pretty ridonkulous.
Since I was tired and the sky looked rather ominous, I opted to take a cab back to my apartment, and after a little yoga routine, I got myself showered and clean and put in a load of laundry and sat myself down on the very couch where I am now typing this entry. Tomorrow, I'm going to try to go to church either at the Cusco Cathedral or at a church that I visited briefly today, called Santa Teresa, named after Saint Terese of Lisieux. Afterwards, I'm thinking of perhaps visiting a museum and then enjoying a peaceful afternoon in one of the plazas downtown. In the last few days, I've been thinking a lot about loneliness, mainly because I've been trying to figure myself out and determine whether or not I feel lonely here. Sometimes, I think to myself, "How nice it would be to have a companion to do 'x' with," but the feeling tends to be short-lived, and then I really appreciate the time that I'm able to spend in solitude. While I don't know exactly what these sentiments say about me, I do think that they're indicative of the likely frustration I would feel if I had a husband who wanted to spend every waking moment together. (aka if you're an eligible bachelor and you're reading this and you want to spend every minute with your significant other, I must sadly inform you that we cannot marry... :-)
Anyway, I bring up the subject of loneliness because it's caused me to ruminate a bit on one of my favorite poems, William Wordsworth's "Tintern Abbey." I am going to post if for any interested paies in an entry directly following this one. For those of you who are generally averse to poetry, I would still suggest reading this particular work. Its implications are quite beautiful. Having read the poem by myself while standing just above Tintern Abbey (which is in Wales), the words have developed an even greater significance, and often come to mind when I encounter a beautiful sight while traveling solo.
In other super exciting news, Paul and Eileen Whitman have officially booked themselves tickets to CUSCO!!! They'll be here at the end of June, and while that's still a decent ways away, I'm already oh so excited to have them here! Does this inspire any of you other readers to come and visit? I again invite you all with open arms, and promise to spend whatever free time I have introducing you to the joys and quirks of Cusco!
Hasta pronto, amigos!
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