week of 12.26-12.30

When I got back from Chota on Tuesday afternoon I was determined get more of my surveys done this week.  I was sick of feeling like I wasn’t getting anything done and at least this was one thing where I could see results.  I could feel like I was being a good productive volunteer if I could only knock out some more of these encuestas.  Tuesday afternoon I left my house with a backpack full of surveys and set off down a road I didn’t know yet.

I only got 2 surveys done that day, but I did find my way to a neighboring community called Cuadreado and the view that day was breath taking.  It happened to be really sunny and hot that day for the first time since I have been in Cajamarca, because although it is summer here it is also rainy season until the end of March.  By the end of the day I told myself that I had doubled my encuestas; from 2 to 4 completed. 

On Wednesday morning I went to work in the fields with my family.  I felt like it would be a good way to get a better idea of what a day in their lives is like.  Also I thought it would earn me some credibility.  I’m pretty sure they think of me as the high maintenance gringa, even if it is in a loving way.  We spent the morning weeding my family’s carrot fields with a tool that I can only describe in English as a sickle; it was a big flat metal hook, we used to dig up the roots of the weeds.  My family tells me that in about 2 months we are going to be eating a lot of carrots, but that has to be more nutritious that rice and potatoes all the time, right? 

I felt like such a baby for feeling sore and tired, because my grandpa, uncle, aunt, mom, dad, and sisters were all out there with me.  And they had been out there yesterday, and they would be out there for days until the field was finished.  Later at dinner my host dad Joel asked to see my hands and he laughed when my right hand was full of blisters from the sickle tool.  I told him my hands were too soft and I need to work more-he told me he needs help this weekend to plant a new vegetable garden for me.  By the end of these 2 years I am going to be a great farmer!

On Thursday I skipped out on the carrot fields to do more encuestas.  It takes me about 20 minutes to half an hour to do one encuesta, but the hard part is finding mom’s who will participate.  Since it is summer vacation here, about half of the town population travels to the coast to either do seasonal work or to visit relatives.  Also a lot of moms work in the fields during the day with the men and when I go door to door they are not in the house. 

Then in the afternoon the nurse at the health post called me in for some help.  The health post had never called me in before.  I was really curious what they needed me for. Last week there was a woman who came into the health post who needed or wanted help to get to an appointment at the hospital in Bambamarca.  She and I were supposed to meet up in the plaza at 7am last Thursday morning and ride down together for her 8am appointment.  She never showed and I just figured I had been Perued (an expression volunteers have invented that is applicable for a number of situations and it always makes things feel better to laugh about it). 

In Peru there are very different cultural/social standards about being late for appointments or meetings.  It is one of the things that volunteers are extensively prepped for during training; ‘don’t be offended if people don’t come to your charla (or talk) on time, it’s normal to show up an hour or so late, don’t take it personally.  And you should always arrive on time to be an example,’ stuff like that.  The Peruvians that work for Peace Corps called it ‘Peru time,’ which reminded me of my friend Jason Fernandez and what he calls ‘Phillipino time.’  The Peruvian tech trainers  also told us trainees that Americans are the odd ones out and that everywhere else in the world people are regularly late.  So we’re the weird ones apparently or if you happen to be always running late you’re actually normal- I’m writing about you Uncle Dave Barrie!  So I just figured she flaked out, which is pretty normal here.  Anyhow, she was back at the health post still really pregnant and unfortunately for her this weekend for New Years the health post will be closed from Friday until next Wednesday. 

The doctor and nurses were starting to get pretty nervous about what would happen to her if she went into labor this weekend.  The majority of the ‘professionals’ (aka the staff of the health post and the teachers from the primaria and secondaria schools) live in the bigger city Bambamarca down the mountain and commute up every morning.  So this lady was really going to be all alone with the health post staff gone for 5 days.  My ‘job’ was to find the partero or midwife make sure that she new where this woman lived and the situation, for me to walk to her house with her so I could find it if there was an emergency, give my phone number to her neighbors so if she went into labor I could find a truck to drive her to the hospital.  Things get a little complicated, because this lady lives really far out in the campo, she has no phone, and she lives with her young daughter and very elderly mother, also she appeared to me to be kind of low IQ.

I had a very difficult time understanding and communicating with her, but eventually I think we came to an understanding that her daughter was going to talk to the partero.  Apparently the midwife was the godmother of the daughter-or I could be totally wrong on that, but I could not get this lady to tell me how to find the midwife.  We walked to her house, which was about an hour and half walk from the health post.  Part of the way was along the road, but about half was through fields and up mountainside paths.  My cousin Edwuar’s dog followed us the entire way; a scrappy little blonde curly dog, and started fights with other dogs, chased chickens, and frightened cows the entire way.  The whole time during the walk I was getting more and more worried about this lady-how the hell am I going to get to her if she even gets some one to call me for help? 

In the end I found 3 neighbors to talk to about the situation.  I explained that if she goes into labor or has pain to call my phone number and I would bring help.  Call the gringa, please!  I’m not really sure how I’ll do it, but hopefully I can find that midwife lady.  When I was walking back to my house in the rain with my really dirty wet dog named Messie and a bag full of dried peas that Flor had given me as a thank you for helping her I felt like a real life Peace Corps volunteer.  I think a lot of the drama of it all is in my head; I’m sure women have babies out in middle of the campo all the time, but it all felt kind of exciting.  Worst, worst case scenario I have a book from Peace Corps that I have checked and it has a chapter on how to deliver a baby.  Now that would be an experience!  Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.

I promise to write more Sunday after the New Years party.  We are going to burn dolls made out of old clothes.  The one my cousin Edwuar made is supposed to be Ollanta Humala the president of Peru.  He’s not so popular here, because of all the mines-contaminating-the-entire-water-supply-and-the-government-not-backing-up-the-people thingie.  They asked me if I wanted to make an Obama doll to burn and I said ‘thanks, but no thanks,’ then they asked about a president Bush effigy and I said I’d think about it.  Ya pues, more to come on Sunday.   

We weren't sure why my host dad Joel was napping outside, so my sisters and I thought it would be a good idea to make a cross out of a broomstick and take a picture for evidence.

Then our laughter woke him up.

I also made a video of my Aunt, brother, and I feeding the pigs.  I'll try to post it tomorrow or Sunday.

Chau!
kb