close encounters of a Peruvian kind

******Disclaimer*******  if you are at all offended or upset by the mention of poop, you should immediately close this webpage and return next week for the following post-this week's post will surely upset you....

On Wednesday I spent the day in Chota.  I mostly wanted to get a Jillian Michaels workout video from Hayden, but I also had some packages to pick up at Serpost.  I also sent some letters. 

I had an awesome exchange with this guy on the combe back to Bambamarca.  I met up with Ellie and her sister Laura who is visiting right now, to travel back to Bamba together.  When we got onto the combe this guy sat next to me and asked me if I was a Peace Corps volunteer.  It turned out he was from Tacabamba which is where another volunteer; Laura Olsen, is living.  This guy was super friendly and not the least bit deterred when Ellie, Laura, and I spoke in English.  He had his cell phone out and he wanted to play his American music for us.  He proudly told me that his favorite American music was ‘ochentas’ or eighties as well as heavy metal.  I told him I liked eighties music so he proceeded to play songs from his phone and ask me to translate the lyrics. 

So there I was on a van from Chota to Bambamarca translating the lyrics from Journey Don’t Stop Believing.  I even tried to sing my badly translated lyrics and play a little air guitar.  It was a surreal moment.  I was laughing so hard I cried.  After about 10 minutes or so it became clear that this guy wanted to spend the whole hour long ride having me badly translate lyrics for him.  So I quickly put my head phones on while he took a phone call. 

The head phones didn’t seem to deter him from talking to me-so I gave up and kept up the small talk.  It turned out he was a mechanical engineer and worked for a very famous mine in the area.  The mine is famous around here, because the people are fiercely protesting the progress of a certain project that will supposedly contaminate the entire water source for my district.  I say ‘supposedly’, because I try to keep in mind that the people who are preaching all the protests and strikes are uneducated and this is a political matter.  I don’t have any real sources of information on the subject.  I tend to lean towards the political beliefs of the local people in my area, but I know that there has to be another side to the story.  After all how could the president of Peru allow the sole water source for a whole district of Cajamarca be destroyed?  It has to be illegal.  Which leads me to believe that the accusations may be exaggerated. 

Anyhow, as soon as he told me he was a minero I was a little worried about talking with him.  I didn’t want the other people in the car to think that I was in favor of the mining projects.  It was interesting to hear him so casually defend the mines.  Around here the people vehemently protest anything to do with the mines.  It seems like such a horrible sacrifice to make for a gold mine.  As it turns out this particular gold mine is a significant money earner for the Peruvian government…perhaps, that is why the government which is centralized in Lima doesn’t want to quite the mining projects.  Any kind of contamination won’t be effecting the leaders in Lima-it’s over a 16 hour car ride away. 

It was a memorable combe ride today.  I am happy to have these kind of exchanges to remember my time in Peru.  I try to focus on the good ones instead of the bad ones. 

On Thursday I had a whole different kind of encounter.  Diamond, Jose Tarfur, and I met with the mayor of Bambamarca.  The line of people to talk with the mayor was very long.  Instead of having people make appointments, they just have people get time to talk with the mayor on a first come first serve basis.  So Diamond and I waited for about 2 hours to get into the Mayor’s office for a chat. 

The mayor was nice enough.  Wednesday night I made banana bread with the ulterior motive of taking some to our meeting with the mayor.  I figured it would be a good way to make an impression on him and who doesn’t respond well to baked goods I ask you?  In Peru it is customary to share any food that you have with the people around you.  While we waited in line for 2 hours I ran through the scenario of whipping out the banana bread and passing a bit to everyone, but I knew if I did it there wouldn’t be any left for the mayor.  I was so hungry by the end of our waiting time that I was almost ready to sneak into the bathroom and eat a slice-but I held it together. 

I would like to note that in the municipality waiting area they have a flat screen tv mounted on the wall so that people can watch as they wait.  For the entire time I was there the t.v. was on Animal Planet channel.  I thought it was kind of funny they didn’t have a news channel on and instead we watched a show about ‘Fuga Animales’ or ‘Escaped Animals’.  It was quite entertaining.

So the meeting with the Alcalde went pretty well I thought.  After that we said our goodbyes to Jose the regional coordinator for Cajamarca and headed off to the internet café.  Diamond skyped her world wise schools class in the states, which was adorable.  They are kindergarteners and had the cutest questions for her.  Although I’m not sure if any of their cute questions could out do ones that I received in a letter from my third graders in Dundee, MI.  Here are some of my favorite questions from the letters I received:

“I like to drink diet pepsi, how about you?” -9 ½ year old Kamran

“My class and I saw a video of you and some other people dancing, what was that?” – 9 year old Elena

“How do you find out what foods have parasites?” -9 y.o. Malia

“Is hamster good to eat?”- 9 y.o. Ty

“Have you watched Mrs. Dowfir?” (my interpretations was Mrs. Doubtfire the Robin Williams movie) – 9 y.o. Trenton

“Do they have tecnoligy there?- 9 y.o. Hannah

And my personal favorite, that was asked in many forms as I wrote to the class about how the homes are made of adobe,

“Dosent your hous kalaps when it rains and I hope you have a good time thear.” -9 y.o. Dustin

Later Diamond and got lunch and ran errands.  She is left Friday for the States.  She is going to her sister’s and her boyfriend’s college graduations.  I’m really excited for her to visit.  We went to the market to look for stuff for her to take home for her family and friends.  She found some sling shots that the campo kids use on angry dogs, little change purses with a long strap that women wear underneath their shirts to avoid getting pick pocketed, and a horrible huayno music video.  The huayno music videos are so funny I know her family will get a kick out of it and I am excited to share huayno with my family when I get back too.  Huayno is this local style of music here in the sierras that I can only describe as a very stylized annoying repetitive kind of music.  The music videos are great, because they are so badly made it’s quite funny to watch.  Also the dancing is great.

While we were out running errands I ran into several people from my town.  Each time we stopped greeted each other and I introduced Diamond.  In Peru people shake hands, but they also do the cheek kiss, which involves leaning in and pressing the right side of your face to the right side of someone else’s face while making a kiss sound.  The trouble with the cheek kiss is that here in the sierras it’s not so common and I am often unsure of when to go in for the kiss or not.  Today I made a bad judgment call and went in for the kiss with one of the conductors or drivers from my town.  He is always really friendly with me, I’ve met his wife and daughters, and he’s even my emergency contact for Peace Corps Emergency Action Plan.  However, I went in for the kiss and he wasn’t ready for it and it was really weird.  Diamond laughed at me a lot, we both laughed a lot after señor Cubas had left us.  The cheek kiss is one of the social niceties of Peru that I will probably never master.

Later after Diamond and I parted ways I new that something was wrong.  We ate lunch at the restaurant in the plaza de armas that has the best chicken sandwiches, but my stomach was in distress.  I knew I needed to find a bathroom or else I was in danger of loosing a bet.  I have a bet with a couple friends from home that every time I poop my pants I owe them a sole a piece and so far I haven’t pooped my pants.  Many many other volunteers have pooped their pants, but I’ve held it together so far.  Today I was so worried.  The thought of riding up the mountain with poopy pants in the crowded pickup truck sounded horrifying. 

I got to the paradero (the place in Bambamarca where the trucks drop off and pick up for my town) and there was a truck full of people waiting for 2 more passengers.  The seats inside the car cost 2 soles and the standing room in the bed of the truck is only 1 sole.  When the weather is nice the truck bed often fills up first and the drivers wait around until they can fill the rest of the seats.  So there was a truck full of people essentially waiting for me so they could get going on their way up the mountain back to San Juan.  However, I thought I was going to poop my pants so I insisted on being let into the nasty bathroom the drivers have a key to unlock at the paradero.  So I was safe, until I realized that those toilets don’t flush-they’re just for urine and there was no trash can to throw my poopy toilet paper.  No where in Peru is it allowed to flush the toilet paper.  The plumbing system is fragile and everyone throws toilet paper into little trash cans next to the toilet.

I was in a poopy pickle.  I decided to put my poopy paper into a plastic bag I had from my shopping and just get into the truck like nothing weird had happened.  I pretended not to be completely embarrassed that the group of men who drive the cars up and down the mountain from my town would soon find out that I had had a diarrhea attack in their bathroom that doesn’t flush.  I pretended that I didn’t have poopy toilet paper in my bag.  Luckily I sat next to this particularly greasy looking old man.  I could tell even without being able to smell that he did not bathe often.  I hoped that people would confuse the poopy smell coming from my stuff with his body odor and general lack of personal hygiene. 

I really lucked out when this guy didn’t get out of the truck until the last stop with me so that it truly was indecipherable whether or not the smell had been me or him.  No one will know-I hope-except for me and my readers.  So the moral of the story is: 1. the chicken sandwich was totally worth it delicious, 2. always carry toilet paper and hand sanitizer with you, and 3. never under appreciate the fact that the campesinos are always going to smell worse than you do!  OOH, and I still am winning the bet, haaha take that Ainz and Jason Fernandez!

Have a nice week and Chau for now!

kb