Big things happen at the end of the year

MapaMundi

The last 2 months, I have met with the 5th and 6th grades of primary school every week for an hour to paint a World Map.  About 10 to 15 students came each session, and they drew and painted a map of the world.

Week 1: Practicing drawing by grid

Week 2: Painting ocean

Week 3: Drawing

Painting...

...and painting...

...and painting.

And finally, it was done.

Unfortunately, many projects don't display immediate results, the change we work for can't always be seen right away.  The World Map project became a great way for me to do something with very concrete results.  When we started the project, many of the students couldn't identify Peru on the map.  At the inauguration of the map, I overheard a girl showing her friend where Mongolia is, which she remembered because she painted it blue.  

A special thanks to the Municipality of Tantará for giving us paint, to I.E. 22042 for letting us paint on their wall, and to my wonderful students for all their hard work.

Promoción: Mi Niño Jesus

The end of the year also means graduations, or promociones.  In Peru, they have padrinos and madrinas (godfathers and godmothers) for a lot of different events.  I was asked to be the madrina of the kindergarten graduation, and my job was to get diplomas for the 12 kids who are about to move up to primary school.

The graduation ceremony was beautifully planned by the moms, who then got to watch their children walk down an aisle with a partner, receive diplomas, and dance.  I have an overabundance of photos, but I selected a few.

Entering with his partner

Receiving diplomas

Dancing

These children are adorable, and never fail to put a smile on my face by running down the street to great me while screaming, "Madrina!"  I am incredibly grateful that the parents decided to select me as madrina, and I am excited to visit my 12 godchildren next year in primary school.

Full Circles

Over a year ago, I was on site visit, exploring Tantará for the first time.  I met a woman named Fidela on her way to milk her cows.  She invited me to come with her, and I spent about an hour chatting with her in her corral.  Little did I know that Fidela would later become my host mom.

Fidela's cows, 2012

Exactly a year after swearing in as a Volunteer, I found myself in that same corral with Fidela. 

Fidela's cows, 2013

The plan was to cut the horns of the cattle, but it is preceded by a ceremony, in which they thanked Pacha Mama for the health of their cattle and everyone was invited to share a cup of pisco. 

Then they cut the cows’ horns, branded them, and put ribbons in their ears.

After, we went back to the house to eat lunch, and found a surprise.

A brand-new baby sheep!

It is amazing how fast a year in site has gone by.  And I am incredibly thankful to have the wonderful host family that I do. 

The following week, I also held the final class of the year with my adolescents.  They are a small group of students who have taken a few hours out of their afternoon every few weeks to come and learn about healthy lifestyles, including self esteem, decision making, sexual and reproductive health, alcohol and drugs, and planning for the future. 

Self-esteem game

Discrimination activity

HIV activity

Learning to put condoms on bananas

I am so so so proud of them, and excited for next year when they will help me teach their peers.  

Graduation!

This year I have tons to be thankful for.  I have a great family, both in Peru and back home.  I have shockingly wonderful friends.  I have survived one year in site, and I have people who are excited to continue to work together next year.  And I got to spend Thanksgiving Day with a fantastic group of PCVs.

The perfect Thanksgiving dinner

As I come out of my post-Thanksgiving food coma, I am ready and motivated to get back to site to wrap up the year before I head home for Christmas!

Puente Colgante

This is the puente colgante, or “hanging bridge”.  It connects the neighboring districts of Tantará and Huamatambo.  There is now a road that connects the two, and a truck that travels that road twice a week.  The most direct route by foot, however, is through the fields, past the cows, and over the bridge.  Every year, on the same day, the communities of Tantará and Huamatambo go down to the river and do maintenance on the bridge. 

Yesterday, I was walking back to Tantará after spending 3 days in Huamatambo.  I work with 10 families in Huamatambo, and visit about once a month.  The walk between the districts takes me a little less than 2 hours, and besides the occasional incredibly scary dog, it is a relatively uneventful walk.  Except when I get to the bridge.  As soon as I take my first step to cross, my stress level spikes.  Reminding myself to breathe, I take one very careful step after another, focusing on where I place my feet instead of the rushing water beneath.   At a certain point, the bridge tends to swing, most likely when I am hugging one side to avoid the place where the wood has broken.  Once across, I spend a few moments calming my breathing before starting the long climb up the valley.  This bridge makes me nervous.  Yesterday, however, I had a revelation.  I was halfway across when I realized that I cross the same bridge every month, and it has yet to break beneath my feet.  In fact, despite the swaying, the wood has a quite sturdy feel to it. 

In my particular area, it is easy to see modernization grabbing hold.  In Tantará almost no one wears traditional dress anymore.  In Huamatambo there is more, but still mostly among older women.  Both communities used to speak Quechua, yet the current generation is not learning it like their parents did.  Many families choose to sell what they grow in the field in exchange for packaged noodles brought up from the coast.  It can be sad and frustrating seeing the scraps of lost traditions being buried by televisions and cell phones. 

As I paused in my moment of tranquility during what is normally a mildly traumatic experience, I found comfort in the fact that this bridge is still here.  For countless years these two communities have come together to ensure that it stays standing, and thus far they have succeeded.  It is comforting to know that amongst all the change, both good and bad, there are still some things that stay the same.  The old lady on the corner will always stop me to ask detailed health questions in Quechua, my host mom will always offer me tea and soup before bed, and the bridge will always terrify me but I will always make it safely across.  Once on solid ground and staring up and the daunting mountain I was about to climb, I made a mental note to go help on the day they fix the bridge this coming year.  Besides obviously wanting to be apart of the tradition, maybe if I help maintain the bridge, I won’t be as nervous to cross it. 

Alma Micuy

November 1st this year was not just a candy-hangover day.  It was All Saint's Day.

All Saint's Day is the day that the souls of dead loved ones come back to visit their families.  In preparation, families cook all their favorite foods.

Friday morning, the house turned into a well oiled, food-making machine.

The butcher shop...

was next to the kitchen...

and out back is where I spent most of the day turning wheat into flour.

(remember when flour came in bags?)

For two days, we made various dishes in enormous quantities.  Every time one was finished, we all took a break to eat a little.

We cooked,

we ate,

Mazamorra de Calabaza

Arroz con Carne 

Duraznos (peaches)

we cooked some more,

and then some of us got tired and took a nap.

In the middle of the day on Saturday, we took a break to go to the cemetery.  All the graves were elaborately decorated with flowers, with family members huddled around, drinking and spending time with their loved ones.

By Saturday evening, the table was filled to the brim with a variety of food.

The sweet

The salty

The priest came and blessed the food,

And then we ate enough to make Thanksgiving jealous.

(but don't worry, Thanksgiving, it was just a warm-up).

Overall, it was a great way to spend some time with my host family, and wind down after a few weeks of work.

Speaking of work, the video-a-day idea was absolutely not mine, and I probably won't continue to do it, but I thought it was a nice way to document what a few weeks in site look like for me.  

September to Remember

September was a very full month. 

It started with the Fiesta Patronal here in Tantará.  My little town suddenly became filled to the brim with people, fireworks, and giant pots cooking over fires.  It was a week of family, food, and music.  There were soccer games, a band playing almost constantly, and even running with the bulls.

And then there was the parade (to which Captain America and Rambo made appearances). 

Right after the party, it was off to Iquitos. 

Iquitos is the largest city in the world that cannot be accessed by car.  The only way there is by air or by boat. 

We spent the first few days there visiting a butterfly sanctuary, a manatee rehabilitation center, and a seasonal animal care facility where we got to hold all sorts of jungle animals. 

Then the main event: the raft race. 

Thursday we went to Nauta where we were given materials to build a raft.  Of course, we knew nothing about building a raft, so we left that to the locals. 

Friday morning, we climbed onto our boat and started paddling. 

In 3 days, we paddled 112 miles down the Amazon, for a total of about 23 hours. 

The Amazon is the most astonishingly large river I have ever seen.  During the many times we had to cross, it seemed to go on forever and ever.  It is so large that our perspective was constantly playing tricks on us.  At times, the shore would seem close, but then we would notice the tiniest speck near the trees that was another boat.

Sun burnt and exhausted, we arrived in Iquitos on Sunday and stumbled onto shore.  After all that, we won 2^nd place in the all-women category, which came along with a very nice trophy and little extra cash for our pockets. 

We were more or less adopted by a Peruvian team who helped us fix our boat on the first day.  They also won 2^nd in their category. 

And in the end, they told us that this year, the race was accepted into the Guinness Book of World Records for the longest raft race in the world.    So that’s pretty cool. 

While maybe not the most restful vacation, it was a wonderful way to spend a week with friends in the jungle.  And if we can row a water-logged, half-sinking, balsawood raft 112 miles down the Amazon, we can do almost anything.

It was an exciting month, but I am back now, and gearing up to work hard for the next few months before my next vacation: the US of A!