Y estoy aquí...

My Next Adventure...

2010-02-16T07:24:00.000-08:00

Hey All.
Firstly, I want to say thank you to everyone who has been keeping tabs on me over the past few years. I really appreciate the support and love you have shown me while I have been on this amazing journey to Peru and in finding myself there.

Secondly, I think this may be my last Peru blog. I am finalizing my packing and sorting and storing for my next adventure, which starts tonight and am finding myself reminiscent of Peru and my preparations to leave. I should be loading things into my car to take to my storage unit (which I didn't think I would still inhabit when I hauled my first load of stuff there) and attacking the last pile of stuff that is on my floor. I have a few boxes to ship to myself at a zip code across the country. A friend to see. I have to pack my second suitcase and make reservations to get to the airport. But, here I am. Writing a blog instead.

I guess I have come to some sort of grips about my time in Peru. I am not as sad as I was before Christmas, and I don't cry nearly as much, and there are certain similaritites about my life there and my life here that have come to light. Like that my host mom would set pans on the stovetop to dry, and my sister does the same thing. It is a very little insignificant thing, but it makes existing here easier.

Before I left, I knew that this experience would change me, but I never thought it would change my life. I thought I would come back and still live the same life and do the same things, but I would be different and still exist in the same terms as I had before. That did not happen, and I was probably foolish to think that it could.

So, now as I prepare to leave Bremerton again, I look forward to the change that will undoubtedly come with my next adventure.

To learn more about my next steps, check out my new blog at http://ktrains.blogspot.com
Thanks again for listening.

All for me, for now.
katie

Fear....

2010-02-10T11:00:00.000-08:00

So, one thing I have learned over the past two years, because that is really when all of this began, is that if something scares you to your core, it is probably worth doing. Only the things we really care about can scare us that much.

I spoke this past weekend at Broad Street Presbyterian Church (BSPC) in Columbus, OH. To say that I was scared doesn't really sound quite right. Tenia miedo, I had fear; as though it was in me, seems much more accurate. This was the first official presentation I have given about Peru and my time there, and how I have changed, how my time in Peru has changed me. It was a very overwhelming topic.

Of course everything went well. My point was that we can all contribute to making our world better----whether we decide to go to Peru or India, or donate to people who do, or only drink fair trade coffee and use cloth bags at the grocery store-----we all play a part in the revolution.

I used that word in my speech. REVOLUTION. I was told that it scared some people in the audience.
Hmmmmm......something to think about.

all for me, for now.
katie

A Moses Moment...

2009-12-16T19:18:00.000-08:00

It is so weird to think, but it's very true. I had a Moses Moment.

My dad and I drove to Colorado for Thanksgiving to visit my mom and my dad's family, who are now residing in the same city. I got to catch up with my cousins who I haven't seen in four or more years. We talked a lot about memories and about our family and our lives--where we are right now and how we ended up here.

One night, my cousin Danny, who is about my age, took me out to dinner. He looked across the table at me questioningly and said, "So, Peru, huh. Didn't see that one coming," and sort of just laughed. I laughed as I agreed, and tried to explain how I got to Peru. 1. I was not satisified with life where I was. 2. I wanted to see something different. 3. I knew there must have been more. I didn't tell him that our grandfather had convinced our grandmother to be missionaries in Peru once my father and his mother had grown. Our grandfather died when my dad was 13 and his mother was 9 and they never went to Peru.

On our way back to North Dakota, I was riding as my dad drove. The incredibly warm sun filtered in through the car window, shining on my face as I relaxed my eyes and let the vacation days with family roll around in my head and I had a moment. An honest to God, Moses moment.

I have been struggling with what to do next in my life. I feel a very strong call to a life of service, but to be perfectly honest, I am also very seduced by a life of enjoying friends and family and not really worrying about the world. And it is a struggle for me to give away that non-chalant normal North American life, for a service-filled one. The flip side of that is, I don't know how I could ignore the passion I feel for spirituality, social justice, human rights and LOVE. That would simply not be enough.

In my Moses Moment, (did I mention that I started reading the bible about 9 months ago and just began Exodus), I thought, "Why me? Why, out of everyone in my family, all of my friends, all of the people I know, was I chosen to go to Peru? to have my life changed? Why me?" and the answer was so simple. Because my heart could be changed. My heart could be filled with that passion. And my thoughts responded immediately, "But, really? Me? I think someone else could do this better. Someone else is more prepared for this work. I am not smart enough, I don't have the background, I don't even know where I am going." and the answer even more simply put, You don't need to know where you are going, you just need to follow your heart. You will get there.

So, as the sun beat down on my face, I second guessed my creator, my life force, and was reassured that my heart had it right.

Soon, I will let you all know where my path is leading me.
peace and love,
katie

Home: A Place Where I Grew...

2009-10-30T05:30:00.000-07:00

So, I have been back here in North Dakota working the sugar beet harvest for the past month. It is something I grew up with. My dad has worked for American Crystal Sugar Co since before I was born and I cannot say how grateful I am for the experience to see what he has endured every fall that I can remember. I have also had the opportunity to meet people I have known the names of my whole life through my dad's work stories.

And as my 8pm-8am work schedule is shifting towards daylight, I can say it has been truly rewarding.

Not just for feeling a greater connection with my father, or the name he and I both carry, and what that means here. But also for every person I have met over the past month.

There have been some incredibly conservative republicans--who don't believe that global warming is actually happening or why their locally owned stores just can't compete with WalMart for food prices, but also, who unknowingly live a very simple and green lifestyle--growing their own food, composting, spending less, etc-- much like many liberals I know. There are a huge group of hispanic workers who are all interested in my love-life and have concerned themselves with finding me a very tall match (they gave me warm feelings about the people in Peru who had the same intentions). There are some who have been to university, and some who didn't finish high school. A few who think they need to take me out on a date, and a few people I haven't seen since I moved away from Crookston over 10 years ago.

It is a very diverse community in it's own right. Which is something that I never realized when I lived here before, something I want to have in my everyday life.

And while I am not ready to determine where my future is going to take place, I am ready to start living where I am.
I hope you all are well, where you are, and happy, too.

all for me, for now.
katie

Homelessness...

2009-09-16T12:11:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, I went to a community fundraiser concert for a local non-profit called Stand Up For Kids(http://www.standupforkids.org/). It was your average, hippie community gathering, located at the park next to the local community garden. One of our favorite local singers (Vicci Martinez--check her out, she is amazing. http://www.viccimartinez.com/ or http://www.myspace.com/viccimartinez) was volunteering her voice and band for the afternoon. My friend Toni has been volunteering for Stand Up For Kids for years. This local non profit champions the rights and the lives of local homeless teenagers. They make meals, do outreach, get them bus passes, clothes, a bunch of stuff. I was really compelled by the group.

Then, on Sunday, during the minute for mission at church, a woman named Betsey recounted her experience making lunches for a homeless settlement near the old Lowe's store. She had set up her table near the Goodwill store, read her bible and waited for 3 hours with the lunches and no one came. She decided that these lunches were not going to go to waste, so she drove down the main street in East Bremerton looking for needy people. She gave away all 8 lunches that had been made. She also realized that it was necessary to seek them out.

Today, I walked to the store. I needed to buy some travel toiletries for the YAV re-entry retreat at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico. I walked past a couple of homeless guys on the way there. One of them had a super-old, poofy, starter jacket for the Miami Hurricanes. I laughed and remembered the Duke jacket I had in 8th grade. I started thinking about the cost of what I was wearing. And about what I was going to go buy. Have you ever added up the cost of what you have on, and then the cost of the products you use to get ready every morning, and eat, and gas. It can really add up.

It just got me thinking I guess.

There is very real, very true homelessness. No shelter, nothing. I have seen it in Peru, I have seen it in Seattle. But there is this lingering idea of home, what that was and how I felt there. I used to know where home was. Now, being without that leaves me with the feeling I can only call homelessness. While, physically, I have shelter, I am lost on where home is.

All for me, for now.
katie

"Home"; One Month Down.....

2009-09-07T18:08:00.000-07:00

Wow. So, re-culture shock sucks way more than I could have imagined, and I was not looking forward to it to say the least. I am tired. I am cranky (and say mean nasty things to people I love). I am critical. I can come up with some more adjectives, but I think you get the idea. It is not good--no bueno, no bueno.

Though, I do have some kind of funny anecdotes, and what I did in general, to share with you about my first month home...

1. I, a 6 foot tall, slender, WHITE girl, was walking through the Atlanta airport speaking Spanish to everyone. Did I mention I had my entire possible conversation with customs worked out in Spanish....which was not necessary. They speak English in the US, go figure.

2. A lot of my friends were having issues with parasites as we were leaving Peru, so I was on the look out for so tag alongs. I needed to use the restroom in the ATL airport (as I had a 6 hour layover) so I went for it. I was sitting, taking care of business, and leaned forward to inspect the outcome, when WHOOOOSSSHHHH, I was reminded of automatically flushing toilets. If I hadn't just gone, it would have scared the crap right out of me.

3. I found that when I got home, while I only weigh three pounds more than when I left, I am two sizes bigger than when I left. How does that happen??

4. I went on a historical tour of North Dakota with my dad. It was kind of amazing and sad at the same time. We stopped at a few of the battlefields where the Sioux Indians had been slaughtered by Brackett's Batallion and others in the 1840's for crimes they did not commit.

5. I got to go to Ohio. It was the first time I felt like I was really home. Thanks for a great weekend everybody. If I didn't meet up with you then, hopefully I will see you soon.

6. I took a train, which was eerily like a Peruvian bus, and found out that I can't answer the question "Where are you from?" with out talking about Fair Trade, The TRADE act, Bridge of Hope, or Partners for Just Trade. I also started speaking Spanish again. Even dreaming in Spanish--I chatted with a fat little blind boy and he was helping me practice.

7. On the train, I bought a can of Coke for $2.00 (oh my goodness) and before I finalized the purchase, I asked if it was warm.

8. I get to have Spanish time with my nephew. I even made up a song called "Besos", where I sing "Besos por to Brazos" or whatever part and he gets kisses all over his body. I need to learn some more body parts. Like elbow.

Anyway, there is some stuff for you to chew on I guess.
all for me, for now.
katie

BSPC Peru Crew V....

2009-07-20T12:25:00.000-07:00

I have dreamt about you at least 5 times since the day we met (including last night). You are literally in my dreams. And I am still at a loss for words as to why you all have affected me so much. I've come up with a few reasons why this may be occurring....

1. You were the first mission group I have ever been a part of.
2. You are such a diverse crowd in every way, and I see so much of who I was and who I want to be in all of you.
3. You are fun, funny, faithful, caring, laughing, working, striving, open hearted, lovely, youthful, wise, maleable, strong, amazing adaptable and much more.

Your presence made an impact on me. A strong one.

To update everybody else about the time I spent with Peru Crew V, there were 14 of them that came down from Broad Street Pres on a work crew to put in Eco-Toilets in two communities outside of Huancavelica, Peru (Occo Tuna and Vista Alegre). And through all of the joy that is intercultural exchange and partnership, we successfully dug a hole for a water filtration unit for the milk plant in Vista Alegre.

It was amazing to watch this crew respond and adapt to all of the hiccups and planning flaws that happened. I think it was also amazing to see the folks in the community realize that the crew was not leaving regardless of them being ill prepared.

Something was built during the visit, though not an eco toilet was in sight. It was trust. It is something that BSPC has been building with La Oroya for years now, and have now begun the task in a second community in Peru. The realization that partnership is so much more than a task, it is working on the task together. Regardless of outcome. Being together is what made the difference.

Maybe that is what connects me so much with BSPC. My year has mostly been about being and building trust and community. And seeing this group embrace that idea so quickly rocked me, cause it is not easy to do.

Anyway, I send all my love to my new Ohian friends, many of whom fell ill with some crazy Peru bug. Keep them in your prayers, thoughts and good energy. Also, their new and old friends here in Peru.

all for me, for now.
katie

Winding Down and Catching Up.....

2009-07-20T12:07:00.001-07:00

Once again, my blog has mostly slipped my mind. I am getting down to only 9 days left here in Peru and am torn in so many directions I can barely understand all the emotions I am having. But, I wanted to catch you all up on what exactly has been going on in my life over the past month-ish.......

1. My host mom, Lili, had the opportunity to visit her husband (who is working in the states) for their 25th wedding anniversary, so I moved into an apartment with a US friend and coworker for the last month of my time in Peru. I was sad to change locals, but it has been really good for me to have complete control over my food again.

2. I had the opportunity to give an informational talk about design for the artisans in Lima. It was incredibly hard but it went well (I am still being reassured of this). Afterward, we had my despedida (goodbye party). I was so touched by the words said, and presents given. I was amazed to hear how my presence has touched them. Especially my boss/ coworker Koki. He and I have butted heads all year. It is amazing how difficult it is for us to communicate. But, he said that not only are there tanglible results of my year here in Peru, the most recent Partners for Just Trade order is filled with products I aided the artisans in producing, but there are intangible results as well, he said he's learned a lot from our relationship. I must say I have learned a lot from him as well. Humility. Listening first. That I am frequently wrong. And how necessary it is to make amends when I have acted incorrectly.

3. BSPC Peru Crew V. I had the opportunity to accompany a mission/work crew from Broad Street Presbyterian Church in Columbus, OH. Actually, they deserve their own blog......

Anyway, I am in my last few days at work. Trying to make myself concetrate and do some of the mass amounts of work I will leave behind. Limbo is not an easy place to be; starting to transition to one world, while I am still severely engraned in another. But it makes me think of what I was doing to transition to come here, and I gotta say, I like where I am.

hope all are well and I will see you all so soon.
katie

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches and Tomato Soup with Munay Rumi...

2009-07-16T06:48:00.000-07:00

Alexandra Buck and I had the amazing opportunity to share the age old tradition of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch with one of our artisan groups. We added some fresh basil to the soup and were even able to find chedder cheese. I thought it turned out splendidly, though, despite the fact that they ate it, and said they liked it, I was not totally convinced that they did. The cultural exchange of food was completely great.

Andean Medicine...

2009-06-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

Is kind of amazing, even more so when you don't see it coming. That is exactly what happened to me the last time I was in Huancavelica.

As a Bridge of Hope team, five of us took the overnight bus ride to
Huancavelica for a little bit of work and a lot of celebration. The plan was to spend our first day running around the country side with Artisan Group El Mercurio playing soccer and volleyball and eating a mountain of food. And all of that did happen; I just did not take part.

I spent the majority of the morning, lying down with a bag of oranges as my pillow. No one really took notice until it came time for lunch, and I wasn’t able to eat. I continued to lye there and not move. My stomach hurt incredibly badly and I had frequent sensations to relieve myself of the contents of my stomach. I heard some commotion and someone asking for a cigarette. Someone said my name and helped me sit up.

That is when I was covered by a piece of manta. Manta is the colorful fabric that the Andean women use to carry children, food, boxes, just about anything, on their backs. Quickly realizing that I was too large for the first manta, a second was brought in for reinforcement. One of
the women from the group quickly joined me underneath my incredibly colorful, me-sized tent.

She was picking leaves off of some type of herb plant and crushing them with her palms. When she was satisfied with her herb crushage, she called for the aguita, or little water. It was a small airplane liquor sized bottle which drizzled liquid on to the herbs. She immediately put the concoction to my nose and told me to breathe, which I did. It was not water that had been combined with the herbs, but something that smelled stronger than rubbing alcohol. I continued to breathe in the fumes as instructed. Next, my doctor began to rub it over the entirety of my face, not softly. Then, she went up my shirt, and rubbed it all over my chest. And I mean that literally. Finally, she rubbed it on the back of my neck and made me smell it one last time, before we repeated the entire process again.

After the herbs were gone is when she requested the cigarette. Second hand smoke was the second part of my cure. She began puffing the Inka Cigarette and blowing in my face, telling me to breath, so I did. She continued to puff away and blow the smoke in my ears, armpits, down my shirt and on my neck. When I was sufficiently covered, she exited the tent and laid me down, retaining the integrity of my tent, and plunged a knife into the soil to preserve my energy. I was told to rest, which I did.

I tell this story somewhat in cultural jest, but more so to display the affection, compassion and sincere hospitality that I have always been shown by my friends here in Peru. As soon as they knew I was not well, they did everything in their power to help me. And while, culturally, it was out of this world, my well being was their first priority.

This kind of hospitality is an amazing thing. I hope I can bring this spirit of love, compassion and giving with me back to the states when it is time for me to return.

katie

This pic is of my doctor.

Pacha Mancha...

2009-06-27T09:58:00.000-07:00

means dirt oven in Quechua and is traditional for the harvest celebration that happens on May 1. So, this blog is way late, but I couldn't not share this with you. We were invited to celebrate with artisan group Tupac Yupanki at their home in the countryside community of Tacsana, outside of Yaoli about 20km from Huancavelica--truly the middle of nowhere.

We got there and the oven was well underway cooking. And when they uncovered it, we saw the feast we would need to eat. It started with alpaca meat on top, then habas (kinda like lima beans), followed by sweet tamales, and then potatoes, sweet potatoes, sugary potatoes, and another kind of potato. We ate and ate until we were stuffed, and then we were offered more food.

It was an amazing day and we were welcomed as family.

The same boat...

2009-05-26T08:08:00.001-07:00

SO, I have a feeling that I am in a similar situation as many of my fellow YAVs; a little homesick (aka, it's about time to go home and I want to be there now) and I really don't want to blog about anything (aka, kinda done being reflective and introspective). Part of me wants to get home and gorge myself on pizza and burritos with real sour cream and yellow cheese, and go shopping and have a good Northwestern homebrewed beer.

Then there is the part of me that is kind of scared. I had a week of vacation a few weeks ago and it opened my eyes to how difficult it is going to be to transition back. A friend visited from the states, and we went to a very North American/European minded youth hostel in the northern part of Peru. I had a blast hanging out by the pool and swimming in the ocean, I may have had a Peruvian beer, but almost every single conversation I had came back to what I am doing here.

I am working with artisans, helping to improve their lives, working under a fair trade business model. Some people thought I was a saint (which I am not). Some thought I was an idiot for wasting a year of my life on such a frivolous venture. Some argued with me why a fair trade business model was a pipe dream and that the only way for our world to globalize effectively is with a free market economy--two things that I disagree with.

It made me realize how much this year has changed me. And I don't really know how that is going to balance out once I get back to the consumer driven culture in which I was raised. They talk about reverse culture shock, but I think it will be a little like culture shock, where you don't really know what it is that is going to shock you, until it does.

all for me, for now
katie

19 April 2009

2009-05-05T10:30:00.000-07:00

A Soccer Match in Huancavelica

Okay, so I have to say that I know pretty much absolutely nothing when it comes to soccer. Since I was five, I have played exactly four games of soccer in my life. One when I was five, one at summer camp where we made our own team and kept the ball away from everybody else, one in college where I jammed my finger so hard it is crooked to this day and one game in Huanchaco where I kicked an Australian so hard that my foot still hurts at times. This is my limited expereince with the game.

So, when I got to go see a match in Huancavelica, I was kind of excited. I have heard games can be freaking crazy with fans throwing stuff on the field, arenas being closed down and games finished without spectators, or that people arrive late and leave early due to rowdienss. I wasn't really expecting anything like that in Huancavelica, but who knew what could happen.

Well, we got there in the middle of the first quarter and one of the coach's had already been kicked out of the game, which meant he was pacing the bleachers right in front of us. Through out the rest of the game, he snuck back down on the field 4 or 5 times. Each time, being lead back out by the police in their riot gear. No glass bottles were allowed to enter the stadium, as apparently the fans liked to throw things on the field. So platic bottles and food were used instead. Frequently, almost every play in fact, a player would go down and stay down until the ref blew the whistle, which sometimes didn't happen. And while I don't really understand soccer, I can tell when the ref's are calling a one sided game, which happened.

To say the least, the game was fun to watch the fans and hear the taunting songs. The game ended in a tie. And I understood why the police with the riot gear were there, to protect the refs as they left.

17 April 2009

2009-05-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

La Pareja Dispareja

I have a friend named Roxanna. She is, to say the least, fantastic. She has more first cousins than I have living family members, more friends than people I know and connections for everything. One of those connections brought us to the National Library to see a play.

It was the first showing of the play to a live audience, and the director came out and spoke to us before the play began, asking us to turn off our cell phones and that it really was okay to laugh, and laugh loudly.

The scene starts, and it is obviously in a bachelor pad, a messy bachelor pad, and there are a group of guys playing poker. I am following the conversation for the most part, when I hear the name Felix. And then I hear it again. All of a sudden, the messy room, the photo of Lou Gherig, it all clicks, I am watching The Odd Couple. In Spanish.

It was really amazing to watch the story, and hear how the jokes are translated. Though, the French accents in Spanish were slightly unnerving for me to hear. They did an amazing job with the show and I hope I get to go see another before I leave.

The director is the second from the left, Felix is in the blue suit and Oscar is in the baseball cap. Apparently those two actors and the two females are on soap operas here in Peru. Actually, everyone in the audience applauded when they walked out on stage during the show.

The past month.....

2009-05-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

So much has happened over the past month, it's hard to know where to start to catch you all up on where I am, what I am doing and how I am feeling. So, I am going to start at the beginning, and work towards today.....however, in a series of blogs. I just find it really difficult to read a mass amount of information in one blog, and prefer to read stories in their own rite.

I hope you all are well.
Love and miss you,
katie

2009-04-05T17:47:00.000-07:00

Hiya all. As most of you should know, I have been working in design with fair trade artisan coopertives from the Lima, Huancayo and Huancavelica provinces in Peru. Here is some of the work that has been done since I arrived here last September. And, there is more on the way.

Let me know what you think!!
katie

I'm, an AUNTIE!!!!

2009-03-24T08:22:00.000-07:00

Connor William Murphy

I just wanted to share this very proud moment in my life. Yesterday my sister finally gave birth to my very first nephew. He weighs 8lbs 4 oz, is 21.2 inches long, has red hair and blue eyes, and obviously very pudgy cheeks.

I have to admit, it has been really hard to be away from home during the past 7 months. I just wanted to be there with my sister as she has this amazing experience. Even more so yesterday. I cried a good part of the day. And crying is not really a normal way to express emotion in Peru, so mostly everyone was confused. I am so very happy and at the same time, wish I had a teleporter.

The cool thing is that my nephew does have is very own Peruvian nickname, Cachetone. For two reasons. 1.Cachetes are the chubby cheeks you see in the above picture and 2. No one here can say Connor. So, it works out. Plus, how cool is it to have a Peruvian nickname??

all for me, for now
auntie katie

El Dia del Artesano...

2009-03-21T17:02:00.000-07:00

was celebrated on Thursday the 19th of March at the governmental palace in Lima and I got to go. The Bridge of Hope team along with artisans from groups Mana, Kuichi and Emady met at 9:30 am (which means we really met at 10:30am) and entered the palace. We had to walk through a metal detector (which I set off and caused them no alarm) and they took my camera, so I have no photos from inside.

We went into a ballroom where there were people in both suits and native dress milling around overly large art from different areas of Peru. We stood and chatted and walked around for a little over an hour when the press entered and stood on risers on one side of the room, everyone got excited and crowded toward the stage. Security made some walking room, we waited a little bit more, and then Alan Garcia (President of Peru) entered followed by two of the ministers and a couple of other men. At the closest point, I was only five feet away from him. And I gotta say I was quite surprised as he was bigger than I had anticipated. I am guessing about 6'5" or so and a good 300 lbs.

Then the speeches started, I followed the first couple, but started to zone out in the third and fourth speeches. Garcia spent most of this time staring either at the chandeliers or the floor. He looked way more bored than I felt. Though, when his turn to speak came about, he was quite charismatic. What amazed me the most was the Peruvian Dancer (photo above) who stood on stage with the bottle on her head (for the entire hour of speeches) and her arms up during the first two speeches (about 20 minutes). At the end of Garcia's speech, the dancer poured a toast for him and the other speech makers and they brought out pisco sour for everyone else to toast (by far the strongest Pisco Sour I have had in Peru) and there was a little bit more pomp and circumstance before they departed the ballroom.

Afterwards, I told the dancer I was very impressed by her talent and all she said was how disappointed she was that they didn't allow her to dance. Then she offered me a drink from the same cup that the President drank from, and whatever I drank tasted quite awful.

Here she is dancing without music after the festivities ended...

In retrospect, I think she was actually what kept me paying attention to anything. I kept thinking, "at least I don't have a bottle on my head." Overall, an incredibly interesting and exhausting day.

all for me for now, katie

The Day of the Feathers....

2009-03-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

This morning, when I opened my bedroom door to our back courtyard, I found a feather. It was bright blue, and white and silver and grey with a fleck of black. I picked it up and set it in my room before I left my house for my first run in over 6 months.

I didn't run very far, but I ran and I got sweaty and it was fantastic. I ran past people going to work, kids going to school (it started back up from summer break this past week), people who were just starting their days. It felt good.

I made it home and went through my normal morning routine; shower, dress, eat. The usual. Then I headed to work. I walked my normal route, and in one of the parks I pass through I saw another feather on the ground, it was light grey and brown with white, and thought that's kinda neat, but I left it there. Then I spotted another, this one mostly white. I kept walking and kept seeing feathers of different colors and sizes as I walked. When I saw an owl size feather, I picked it up and wished I had been picking them all up all along.

Just thought it was kinda neat that so many feathers greeted me this morning.

UPDATE: Project sit in the living room, week one.
Well, I didn't sit in my living room at all this past weekend since I got back from the beach, but I did get to play colored Jenga with my host sister. We played for over an hour on Friday night and about a half hour last night. It was fun.

Almost Jumping...

2009-02-23T10:19:00.000-08:00

Just a thought that occurred to me this weekend.

During orientation, we were well warned that much of our time would be spent on communal couches in living rooms watching tv. I find that I do spend a lot of time watching tv, though not in my living room. My family doesn't have a tv in our living room, but there is a tv in each of our bedrooms. This coming from a girl who unplugged her tv in Dec 2008 and put it behind her couch to be lost in dust.

In general, I spend a lot of time in my room. My family has wi-fi, so I can surf all day, or skype friends back home or blog, whatever I feel like doing. I frequently make lists for the future, and budgets for the future and look for apartments and jobs for the future. Or sometimes I read, or work on my new story or knit. It doesn't really feel like I am being present, like I am engaging.

During orientation we were also told to know that when we needed rest, to take it, but not to hide from our experience here. I struggle with how to balance that idea. By spending so much time in my room, on the one hand, I am not connecting with my experience here, on the other hand, if I was in my living room, I would still be alone as my host family are in there bedrooms watching their own tvs.

So now I am proposing a test. If I go sit in my living room at night instead of my bedroom, will someone come sit with me? Might I engage my family in a way to which they are not accustomed?? I am going to find out, but it has to wait a few weeks. They have gone back to the beach house for the week and I am going to Mancora for the next week.

I'll keep you posted on what happens.

katie

Questions...

2009-02-12T07:21:00.000-08:00

So, I have been writing a lot about charity and giving. Poverty is something that is very in my face here, but also very in my face in Seattle. People everywhere see it and people everywhere live it.

My struggle has been with just giving someone money. Does that really help them? Today, yes. Tomorrow, no. I have always held the belief that you don't give away fish, you teach a man to fish. Now I think that is such a pompous way to look at poverty. I still do believe that the principles of earning and working need to be instilled, but at the same time help given.

So, the question is, what is the answer? Giving someone money, food, clothing today, or holding out and helping for the long term where they are able to give those things to themselves. It was recently proposed to me that maybe they are both the answer, but to two different questions. How can we help people today? and How can we help people for the future?

I like this idea.

katie

Home...

2009-02-12T07:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to Chorrillos with my co-worker Rita. We visited artisan group Mana. This was my first experience bringing a real design to a group and showing them how to make something. However, I wasn't totally aware that I was showing them how to make the "Magic Wallet" before hand. I thought I could just bring the picture and explain the mechanism and they would be able to make it. That was very foolish of me. We went through and struggled with words and we made the wallet and I think they are going to be able to duplicate it and make it even better. I am very excited to see what they can do.

However, this blog is not about the group or the wallet. It is about a thought I had on my way home. I had been in the bus for about twenty minutes when we hit Barranco. I thought, " I wish I could show my friends Barranco. It has the cool church with the façade, you can see the cross lit up in Chorrillos, and they have the Café de los Angeles which are really cool."

Then I started to think of all the cool things I really like about Lima; this dirty city where I hate living. I like Parque Kennedy, Parque del Amor, and where all the paragliders fly in Miraflores. The Plaza de Armas is cool and the Cruz de SanCristobal too, but there is a park near there by the river that I really like. And the best markets in town are right off the main plaza. My neighborhood has a really cool old church and a winery and the best ice cream scoops in town. The neighborhood where I work has a park in front of this old gothic looking church where every Friday, the community gathers to play music and dance. It's fun to watch the old people merengue.

I guess this just made me realize that I am home. I miss my friends and family back in the states, but right now, I am home.

I hope you all are well.
love you much,
katie

Untitled.

2009-02-11T06:56:00.000-08:00

The day I met Maribel Llachuas Armas was the day she passed away.

She was an artisan who worked with Bridge of Hope in artisan group Jupa. She was a mother and a wife. She was a daughter and a sister. She was 28 years old. I'll be honest, I didn't really know her or anything about her.

On Monday afternoon, she came to the office with new samples of cards that they made. They work in a style of embroidery called apillera. This involves many different colors of fabrics brought together to create a picture. They made one for St. Patrick's day (which is truly amazing), one for Easter and some for Valentine's Day as well. We talked about some other ideas for other holidays and birthdays as her daughter ran around the office. Then, the meeting was over and they left.

On Tuesday morning, we received a phone call telling us about her death. She had gone home, and was walking through her house when she fell over and hit her head. An autopsy told us she had a brain aneurism. The Bridge of Hope team went to her wake yesterday afternoon. We met her family. One by one we stepped up to her coffin and said a prayer. It was a white coffin with a bouquet of flowers on top. There were white carnations with a cross of dark pink roses in the center. The side of the casket where her head lay was not open, though there was a window so you could look in and see her face. When everyone was done, we said a prayer together.

One of the other members of the group told us that Maribel had been incredibly excited that we liked the card with the leprechaun. She was excited to start making more of them.

I ask for your prayers or your thoughts for this group. They are going to need a lot of strength and support to keep working together in memory of their friend.

Thanks for reading.
katie

To read more about artisan group Jupa, visit the following site.
http://www.partnersforjusttrade.org/ht/d/sp/i/3694/pid/3694

Anchovies for Breakfast...

2009-02-10T06:31:00.000-08:00

weren't all that bad to be honest with you.
The last day I spent at the beach with my host family, we had a mix of anchovies, red onion and aji (aji is anything spicy) with lime juice squeezed over it. Really not that bad.

Anyway, the weekend was nice and relaxing and I realized that I would love to have a beach house where I could write. Something about the sound of the ocean waves and the vast expanse of nothing allows my mind to wander. It did a lot of that in fact. I know I should still be present in my job and not be thinking about the future too much, but I am. With the economy as it is, and me how I am, it is inevitable to think about the future.

I don't think I have a point or anecdote to this blog, just wanted to chat a bit.

Things here are going really well since Christmas break. I have been visiting artisan groups a lot and my office has received two new PC(USA) long term volunteers/ mission partners who have brought a new energy to everyone working in fair trade. It's been really good.

Okay, I am done with the rambling.
Hope you are all well.
katie

Para-waiting on Christmas Eve Day....

2009-01-15T12:53:00.000-08:00

I gotta admit, I had a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit when I was donning my flip flops, tank tops and shorts. Heat and hot chocolate don't really combine to make Christmas for me. I need many layers and cold weather, but regardless of how I felt, Christmas Eve Day arrived. And so did the wind.

I went on a little adventure in Miraflores over roadways, parks, malls, and even the ocean as the up drafts lifted me and my paragliding guru high above the sights. Here are a few videos so you can see what I saw.
If you ever have the chance to float, I highly recommend it.

Mites, Bites and Beatings...

2009-01-15T12:50:00.000-08:00

so, I was a wee bit sick towards the end of Novemeber, and I found that I spent a lot of time in bed. This was a great thing, not only for my sanity, but also for the growth of my bed mites. All of a sudden, I had new bites every morning and man did they itch. So, I talked to my MamaP about how to deal with this issue. The following was her solution.

We beat my bed with my sheets, washed the sheets, put them over the line and beat them some more and repeated for three days. Then a guy came by the house and we had him make a cover for the bed.

Needless to say, there are no more mites or bites.

Witness...

2009-01-14T06:53:00.000-08:00

I am sitting at my computer, in the office, in Lima. I just got back from my two weeks of vacation with the other YAVs. We went to Cusco and saw Machu Picchu and the Sacred Valley. We went to Puno and stayed on one of the islands on Lake Titicaca. Then we visited Arequipa and Colca Canyon and saw condors fly. Lastly, we flew over the Nazca Lines before we collapsed back in Lima.

On my vacation, I witnessed some amazing acts of giving that I want to share with you.

One Night In Cusco...

It was New Years Eve, and I was walking back to the hostel with a new found friend. We walked through the Plaza de Armas and then to another side plaza, where there was an overhang. Underneath there were lines of people sleeping next to one another, out of the rain. As we started to walk past, my friend said wait as he put his hand in his pocket. One by one, he gave every person there a 50 centimo piece (about the equivalent of 15 cents US). I watched in silent amazement. When he finished, I gave him a hug.

He backed away and said, I am not a saint or anything. You see people begging in the streets and I never give them money. But this, these people, this is real. They wouldn't be sleeping here if they had somewhere else to go. And its not much, my tips from tonight (he worked as a bartender in the hostel where we were staying), but they can buy a piece of fruit with that.

I stayed silent and didn't explain my own struggle with the idea of giving.

Dinner For Four...

We were in Arequipa, eating dinner. Leslie and I had found one corner restaurant with a balcony over looking the plaza with prices we thought were quite just and the view was amazing. Anyway, there we sat and ate and I looked over. At the table next to us was a group of four. Three white 30-somethings, and one Peruvian girl about 8 bent over a salad. The interchange between them was quite odd, so I pointed it out to Leslie. She told me that was the girl who had been selling candy in the street. I hadn't even seen her.

The table must have given her some leftover food. She sat uncomfortably eating every last morsel on the plate. When she was done, she stood up and said thank you. The woman at the table reached in a bag and pulled out some pants, made sure they would fit her, and gave them to her without a second thought.

I don't know if giving money is the answer. I don't know if giving food or clothes is the answer. I don't know if there is just one answer, but what I am starting to realize is that it all is an answer. If all we ever do is our best, using what we have, at any given moment, then that is our answer.

Just something to chew on I guess.
Hope you all are well.
all for me, for now.
katie

Remembering...

2008-12-12T22:08:00.000-08:00

December 13, 1984, Putis, Peru.

It was towards the beginning of the 20 years of internal violence that Peru suffered when the Shining Path terrorist group was, well, terrorizing the people in the Andean hamlet of Putis, so they fled to the mountains to save their families. Then, the military moved in, and the Shining Path departed. The military men found the campesinos hiding in the hills and convinced them to come to Putis. They would be protected there, and there was work to be done. So, many of them went. The work was digging new trout beds. When the work was finished, the 123 men, women and children (19 under the age of 7) were forced into the shallow graves and mowed down by machine gun fire. The military covered the bodies and sold the people's livestock, hoarding the profits.

Saturday was the 24 year anniversary of the massacre.

I wrote a blog that day about Putis, and it was all thoughtful and biblical and completely forced. So, I deleted it and didn't post it. I want to be genuine in this blog, and that was anything but. I want you all to know about Putis because it seems like a story from a movie, that never really happened; a group of people pinned between their government and terrorists, losing everything. But it did happen. It is real.

In May and June of this year, a group of forensic scientists came and exhumed the graves. Survivors watched as the scientists worked, hoping to see a shoe or a piece of clothing that would identify a loved one. I think about these people and what they have suffered these past 24 years and I think no wonder they don't trust their government, no wonder they don't trust their neighbors, no wonder they don't trust me. And right now there are three people being investigated for human rights violations, but the government won't release their real names.

If you want to know more about Putis, google it. There is also a website you can check out (sorry it's in Spanish) http://www.justiciaparaputis.org/.

To be honest, I am having a hard time finding words to express what I think about this, what the point of this blog is, etc. I guess it is just to make people more aware of our world and what happens in it. I don't know what we can do for the people of Putis, how to help them, if we can. But I think the first step is being aware.

all for me, for now.

Hope...

2008-12-07T20:19:00.000-08:00

So, this is a post I have been sitting on for quite a few weeks, but one that has really got me thinking. About a month ago, I was walking around the commercial neighborhood near the office of the Red looking for the beauty supply shop as I was out of face wash. I ended up on the wrong block somehow and before I realized that I was walking the wrong direction, I had walked past a young girl, maybe 15 or 16 years old, with a baby. She wasn't selling anything, she just had a cup out. I lowered my eyes and walked past her.

I have somewhat gotten used to the people on the busses selling chocolate, and people shoving things in my face at busy intersections trying to get me to buy something. There really is a sense of selling your wares here, even to the extent of bus cobradores and taxi drivers (I won't even be going to the bus stop, and gentlemen will be trying to convince me to get on their bus, or a cab driver will stop in front of me as I am crossing the street trying to convince me to use his cab services). Anyway, this girl was different.

I soon realized that I needed to turn around and go the other way, and that I would have to walk past her. We were warned in training not to feel like we had to give or buy things, that it was probably better if we didn't. I just sort of held my breath, but couldn't help but look at her and her baby. I didn't really want to give her money, but I did want to know her name, and her baby's name and how old it was. I was lost in these thoughts as I ran into the man in front of me as he stopped to dig for some change in his pocket. He went back and gave it to her. I kept walking.

I found my store, bought my facial cleanser and began my trek home. And surprisingly, I ran into another man as he reached into his pocket to dig for some change and I watched as he walked back and gave it to a woman sitting with some candy on the street.

It really got me thinking because even at home, when I go to Seattle, I see the same people sitting on the street with cups or candy and I walk past them in the same way. I wonder who they are and how they came to be where they are, but I never do anything. I think I might be too scared to. I realized how apathetic I am at times. And that is something I know I am highly critical of US society for-my generation especially.

It also made me think of the men, who, though they passed the girl with the baby and the woman in the street, went back with change. This is what gives me hope. I don't know if the answer is in the change we can spare, or if it is taking the time to sit and ask a name; trying to identify with that other person. But the thought alone gives me hope.

How can we ever change what is wrong with our society, with ourselves, if we can never admit what needs to change?

I guess I feel like this is more of a thought in progress as I don't know if I will ever have the courage to sit and chat, but I have hope, and I think that is a lot.

all for me, for now.
katie

CNN: Planet in Peril: Battlelines....

2008-12-04T09:42:00.000-08:00

Hey everybody. Just wanted to post a reminder to watch the CNN documentary coming up on Dec 11 at 9pm EST. Planet in Peril: Battlelines is showing a segment on La Oroya, Peru (one of the top 10 most polluted cities on earth. also on the list, Chernobyl). The office I am working in does a lot of work in regards to La Oroya and I hope you have the time to watch. It is so hard to know, though not unbelievable, that the person poisoning these kids is from the states.

anyway, here is a preview clip of the documentary. i was gonna try to get the video to play in here, but that is a little too techy for my taste.

don't forget.......CNN, Dec 11, 9pm EST.
katie
http://edition.cnn.com/video/#/video/living/2008/12/02/pip.gupta.doe.run.cnn

Congratulations!!!!

2008-12-01T11:12:00.000-08:00

to all you YAV's out there in the world. We have officially made it through November. I know for me it has been a challenging month in a way I had not anticipated. I have been incredibly homesick for people and little things like grocery shopping. But, as December starts, I realize how far I have come on this journey, and how much farther I have to go. I am so excited to see how the rest of this year changes me as I can already see a transformation occurring.

Anyway, I want to commemorate today with a few lists; things I miss, things I don't miss, and things I appreciate like crazy here!

Missing:
+ cheddar cheese, colby cheese, colbyjack cheese.....aka any cheese that is yellow.
+ grocery shopping
+ dishwater omlettes (and scrambled eggs)
+ good wine, good friends, and laughing!
+ getting to decide what and how much I am going to eat

Not Missing:
- driving
- cell phones
- always being on time
- copy right laws

Enjoying!!
+ writing poetry and designing new clothes (my creativity is flourishing right now)
+ drinking tea every morning (and waking up early enough to sit and eat breakfast without rushing through it)
+ knitting
+ chatting with my MamaP
+ connecting with my family and friends at home
+ making my legs hurt on a weekly basis with new yoga stretches and positions
+ actually reading my bible every week, starting in Genesis. ¿I wonder how far I will get by August?
+ taking advantage of the fact that IAMINPERU! and being present in my life here

okay, I think that is enough.
I am thinking of you all and know that you are in my prayers and good energy is being sent your way. love you all.

katie

Sick at home...

2008-11-29T01:07:00.000-08:00

I have truly been blessed today.

This weekend was our second YAV retreat. We had Thanksgiving Dinner together yesterday, and it was an incredible feast (minus crescent rolls, cranberry sauce and black olives) but everything else you can imagine we had.

Last night the YAV's and the workers in the office of the RUMP went to this crazy dance thing that I don't know what it is called, but it is inspired from the Puno/Lake Titicaca area and from what I saw on the cameras this morning was fantastic. I don't know the name and didn't see the dances as I was not there. I was home sick. I did enjoy the mooshier foods, as that was all that could (finally) be swallowed down my throat.

While the rest of my body found much relaxation and jubliance in my venture to Huanchaco, my left tonsil found something there that it really didn't enjoy so much. In fact it swelled to a size greater than an egg, definitely passed the halfway point in the back of my throat. Thank God the right did not do the same. There would have been a little bit more worry on my part if that had been the case.

Anyway, Monday afternoon it started and I felt a little crappy. Slept 13 hours that night and attempted work for about 3 hours, and when I found that everything I tried to accomplish was corrupted in some way or another, I heard God telling me to "Go home and rest", so I did. Wednesday, I found that I could not really speak and my MamaP, bless her, went to the pharmacy to get the turbo strength antibiotics I needed. Thursday came, and the blessed antibiotics were no match for Goliath the Tonsil. Debbie came with me to the doctor. When she looked in my nose, it was fine, when she looked in my mouth, the look on her face was pure horror and as she exclaimed "MALO, MALO, MALO, MALO, MALO, MALO MALO!!!!" she slowly backed away from the not so cavernous innerds of my mouth.

She then said a word that sounded like operation, but actually meant hospitalization. But, I thought "no way in heck am I going into the hospital on Thanksgiving without eating any stuffing" So, instead I received two of the most painful 950mg total atnibitoic shots to the boot-ay I have ever received in my life. Totally reduced the egg in my throat, and I feel ten million times better.

Though, this morning I found I was not allowed to go to Paracas with the rest of the YAVs for our retreat madness. I was pretty bummed out.

But now here I sit, having slept copious amounts of sleep over the past 4 days, and taking today all for myself. One of my concerns, one of my prayers has been answered. I had the most alone time I have desperately needed in months, today. I had so much that I even was able to contact some friends from home, my sister and my parents for chats. And, while my tonsils are still a little red and a little swollen, I feel rejuvenated. I feel triumphant.

We don't always like what happens in our lives. We don't always understand God's plan or the universe. But really, do we ever really need to?

all for me, for now.
k.

The Streets of Huanchaco...

2008-11-29T00:51:00.000-08:00

The last afternoon I was in Huanchaco, my good friend Roxi (after following me around all morning to see the toursity things like the amazing church) was kind enough to suggest to a 16ish year old boy playing guitar in front of his families restaurant, that I should play.

Tired as I was, I thought this was a grand idea as well, little did I know...

I played my ususal standby songs, closer to fine, blackbird....this caught the Huanchacan boys interest, so I somehow managed to show him the basics of the song. I really am not much of a teacher. But he was an amazing guitarist so, it worked out. Then he played a little twist and shout and some other Beatles songs as I sang my guts out. He asked me to play another, and I was feeling the Cab Calloway-- Minnie the Moocher vibe, so I stuck that one out there for my passerby audience.

I was about half-way through the song when a woman from inside the restaurant came out and told me something that sounded like be quieter please, she was incredibly difficult to understand as she may or may not have been intoxicated at 2 in the afternoon. So, I sang the verse more quietly, and when I got to the chorus, she is all up in my face screaming "HIDY HIDY HIDY HIDY" which is when I realize she knew the song. So, I turned up the volume with her.

And we continued. Quiet verses, loud chorus. She made me sing it three times, when I kindly returned the guitar to my new goodly Huanchacan friend whose name was promptly forgotten as all I could think was 1. How on earth did she know that song? and 2. Why can't I get that kind of participation back home?

Roxi didn't quite understand why I kept exlaiming "THAT WAS FANTASTIC! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED! THAT WAS FANTASTIC!"

but it was.
all for me, for now.
k.

Jealousy at the sea...

2008-11-24T13:42:00.000-08:00

Jealousy.

Not a good thing, right? We see this green eyed demon who wants what his neighbor has. We have always been taught that jealousy is a bad feeling.

I went to Huanchaco this past holiday weekend (I believe because of APEC). My friend Roxanna, two Argentinean Med Students and I hopped a bus, and 9 hours later, were in Trujillo at a friends house eating bread and drinking tea. The first day we did some touristy type things like seeing the Plaza de Armas in Trujillo and visiting some archeological ruins called the Huaca del Sol and the Huaca de la Luna. They were pretty impressive. We went out that night and got our dance on. It has been a long time since the knee pendulum has hit the scene quite that hard, but it was fun and we didn’t actually get much sleep.

In the morning we headed to the mall for some coffee and breakfast. I had a McCafé latte and a cheeseburger. The Argentineans thought I was nuts. I thought it was fantastic. After breakfast, we quickly found ourselves in a cab to Huanchaco, a small beach/surf community about 15 minutes away. I gotta admit, I fell in love and seriously contemplated my bank account and how many days I could live off of S/27 soles a day. (I could probably make it about 2 years). I think I have also added a new item to my “Life to do List”, own a hostel in a beach community somewhere. I did not want to return to gloomy Lima last night.

We walked around the city, I bought some earrings from a Venezuelan vendor who asked me to marry him and insisted I was a princess (I guess someone agrees with you Dad). Around 5 o’clock, we took a seat for about 5 minutes before we were invited to play flubito (fulbito?, soccer with less people in a small area) by a surf instructor with his 5 Australian students. I did warn them that I couldn’t play to save my life, but I ran around a lot (finally!) and got very dirty and hurt my foot a tad (I just kind of kicked someone really hard at a close range) and had a blast. We decided to meet up with them for dinner and a bonfire later that night after a bit of a nap and a glorious shower.

One of the first questions I asked of the Aussie’s was the reason for their excursion. Immediate response was, “We hated our jobs so we quit them and left.” I had no idea what to say to that and a moment later another Aussie said, “Actually we’ve just finished Uni and are touring around for a bit.” I figured a month or so, but no. Turns out they are traveling for about 9 months to a year, a month in each country starting in Argentina, up through South America, Mexico and the States, UK and then to the Philippines. My jaw dropped and I reconsidered my bank account one more time.

I am absolutely enjoying my time in Peru. There are joys and challenges alike. I am learning how to communicate in an entirely new way. At one time, I questioned whether or not my time spent here would increase or diminish my desire to travel and experience the world and the life existing, I am slowly realizing I want more.

And Jealousy is definitely an inspirational thing right now. To be free of the agreement that I need to have a 40 hour a week job with health insurance to be successful is a trying venture. I consistently have to reconvince myself of this. Maybe my time here will help with that.

Anyway, there is more to my Huanchaco adventure, but this is plenty for one sit and read.
all for me, for now.
katie

To be or not to be...

2008-11-14T09:41:00.000-08:00

a gringo. and do i even have a choice?

I think that most YAV's have had to deal with being the outsider and the names that go along with that. Some have eloquently written about it, but I don't know if I can. There are definitely some cultural differences that I just don't understand; like office politics. I will probably never understand the undertakings of office politics in Peru. Never. But, I do understand the differences when called a gringo. There are two sides of the word, one is loving, interested and curious. The other is aggressive, hating and expectant.

Let me explain...

I recently took another trip to Huancavelica. I am at least a foot taller than pretty much every person in this little mountain town. I am obviously different. I go there to visit artisans; to help out where and when I can. The ride there is not pleasant. It is about 12 hours in a bus on windy moutnain roads, though since our first trip, we have gotten first floor seats for the trip there. I fit much better on the first level.

Anyway, we traveled to a neighboring town called Yaoli to visit an emerging artisan group. They live in the countryside in the hills above the even smaller mountain community. We were early so we decided to walk around a bit. We were approached by a neighbor asking if I wanted to buy anything because I was there. I told him I was a missionary and didn't have anything. We spent the rest of the morning and the afternoon sitting in the sun in a cow pasture with women who mostly only speak Quechua (a native language) as they knitted scarves and I got a sunburn. It was fantastic.

We were lucky and found a ride back to Yaoli and headed to visit another group called Sumac Ruaaq. On our walk to their house, we passed a school and someone saw me and yelled "Gringo". All of a sudden the second story windows were filled with kids screaming "Gringo". At first I just kind of laughed and shrugged it off. But it continued, and so I said that "I wasn't a gringo, I was a gringa. I am a girl". Nothing changed. "Gringo. Gringo." became the chant. And then one voice yelled out, "give me money rich gringo". I said, "I'm sorry, I'm a volunteer, I'm a missionary and I don't earn any money". They didn't either hear me, or believe me and continued with the request. We were finally out of earshot when a group of young boys saw me and the gringo chant continued.

We sat and spoke with the artisans for a bit and then decided it was time to head back. In sight of the school, the chants and the requests began again. We even had an artisan with us, and the kids saw no signs of stopping and the people I walked with showed no sign of seeing a problem with it.

We stopped and had a coke, and wide eyes followed me with whispers of that word.

It was finally time to go back to Huancavelica and we were in the cab when a young boy knocked on my window and said something I couldn't hear. I told him so, and looked for the window handle, but through the open front window I heard him again ask for a gift from the rich gringo.
We drove away.

This is the only time I have ever been approached like that in Peru, and the only time in Yaoli, but it is so different than these situations....

The next day back in Huancavelica, we left the ATIYPAQ office for lunch and as we walked a girl grabbed my hand really quickly and backed away. She asked me where I was from, and I told her to guess. She asked if I spoke English, and I said a little. She said goodbye gringa, I said goodbye in French.

In the eveing we visited artisan group El Mercurio. As we walked the staircase to the road we needed to take, there was a group of children who saw us and immediately yelled gringos! They were excited. I was slightly annoyed. But we got to the top and they walked us to the door and we said instead of gringo, call us amiga. And they did.

Later that night, I was sitting in the ATIYPAQ office on the couch when a woman from the town of Ccaccamarca entered and saw me. She said, "Mama gringa. Do I get to sit and rest next to you? What luck!" Again, very different.

I don't know how I feel about the word gringa. Yes, I am a tall, white woman from the United States of America. I am not rich. I am struggling with how to respond to this label I have been given. I do not want it, I did not ask for it or the presuppositions that accompany it. But, it is a part of this culture I am in. It is something they have learned since childhood. However, that doesn't make it right. Like John in India, I can take this lesson and apply it at home. I can correct my friends when they use a racial slur, or the words retard or gay in a negative light. But, for now, I still don't know what I to do with it. Or better yet, what I can do with it.

all for me, for now.
k.

Words....

2008-11-10T07:49:00.000-08:00

So, I am finding there are some words that don't translate very well into Spanish, and they just happen to be the words that I want to use all of the time. Like the word WAY. The phrase, "I walk this way to work," way translates to route just fine. However, in the phrase, "There has to be another way to do this," way does not translate into the could be world of possibilities. I use it anyway in the middle of all the Spanish, way comes out of my mouth. Makes me laugh.

But there are some words that I have completely fallen in love with and wish there was a way to incorporate them into my everyday vocabulary. Like BURBUJA, it means bubble. And ROMPE MUELLE is fantastic as well. It's a speed bump, but translates literally to axle breaker. If anyone wants to join me in a movement to change speed bumps into axle breakers, let me know cause I will be all over that.

all for me, for now.
katie

My favorite part of the day...

2008-11-07T07:03:00.000-08:00

would definitely be breakfast.

After my morning yoga display, I eat breakfast. At this point, Carlos and Ana Paula have left, Andrea is still asleep and Lili usually goes back to bed. So, I am alone and I get to eat. It has almost turned into something of a ritual for me.

Lili will set out a plate, a little bag with two pieces of bread, a cup of juice with a plastic container lid on top, a bowl with a hard boiled egg in it (already salt and peppered) a coffee cup, knife, little spoon, a butter knife, sugar, salt, and our hot water thermos. (Everyone in Peru uses hot water thermos' and it always reminds me of Hi-lo's 15th Street Cafe).

So, I sit down and slice my bread open and decide what I am going to put on them. I have a few choices. 1. Ham and cheese 2. just cheese(Edam) or ham 3. Cheese with strawberry jelly 4. peanut butter and jelly and sometimes 5. avocado. The avocado here is amazing. It tastes the same but different, like it is a bit creamier maybe. Good stuff, with a little bit of salt. Yum! So, while I decide what I want, I pour my hot water into my coffee cup and steep my tea. I like it really dark, so I let it steep the entire time I am eating. Oh, and I usually heat up my sandwhiches in the microwave. I eat my sandwhiches, then my egg.

And then it is my drink rituals, I take a little spoonful of sugar and drop it in my dark tea, then stir my juice. Lili makes fantastic fresh juice every morning. I don't know what all she puts in it, something a little different everyday, but mango, papaya, oranges, bananas, strawberries, and a little bit of water. It is heavenly. And it is what I use to swallow my 6 vitamin pills. And when that is all done, I place the tea bag in the spoon and wrap the string around so I can squeeze the rest of the water out of the bag. I stir up the sugar and then I just sit and hold my extremely hot tea cup in my hands and I feel at peace. It may be the only time of day when I feel really relaxed.

I don't have to think, I don't have to worry, I just hold my cup as I sip my tea.
I absolutely love this part of my day.

all for me, for now.

Going Extreme...

2008-11-06T13:41:00.001-08:00

So, I have been feeling a little bit restless lately. I don't know if it is being cooped up, or just feeling cooped up that is causing it, but I am having a really hard time truly relaxing. I was thinking back to high school and junior high days when I could sit for hours in my room and listen to the radio. I would lay on my bed and just be. Part of this year is just being. And I feel like I am in a lot of ways, but at the same time, I am still restless.

I have been wondering if it is my exercise regiment, which is fairly lame. I wake up at 7 three or four times a week and run through the one sunrise salutation I learned in my college yoga class before I dropped it. I just feel like I want more. I want my heart to pound in my chest, I want to breath hard and feel my muscles ache. I miss running and lifting weights and being sweaty.

I was updating my myspace page the other day with a new extreme yoga peru pic. It is a pretty awesome pic of Leslie, Lynn and I in the three warrior poses on a hill over looking LaGranja. I remember being scared and a little off balance, but feeling great when I stood myself back up straight. Anyway, I was asking a Yogini friend of mine about other poses we could learn to add to our collection of extreme yoga peru (see the YAV group blog for more pics) and I found about.com. I think I am in love.

I have decided to become a hardcore yoga practitioner (we'll see how it goes), but there is a variation of warrior III that i want to learn by christmas to take pics at maccu picchu. I am stoked. and if i fall on my behind, all the better.

Hopefully, this will ease the antsiness I am experiencing currently. Harcore yoga.
all for me, for now,
katie

Words I never though would pass my lips...

2008-11-03T13:40:00.000-08:00

did.

I miss my electric shower.

I still can't believe I said that. But here is the story. About half way through September, my MamaP started the process of having a hot water heater installed. Fantastic! I initiallyt thought. And then I saw the size of the hot water heater, about 2.5 feet tall and a foot or so round (aka much smaller than any other water heater you have ever heard of), but overall I was still excited as I had still not made peace with the crazy shower of death.

And then a month passed, and the shower and I got along better, and I had real hot water and my MamaP no longer thought I was a dirty hippie, and then it was gone. And my shower did not work. and 3 more men had to come to the house to fix it (I think in total it took 7 technically inclined men to install the water heater). And then my shower worked, and there was no scary electrical wires or subtle shocks as I showered.

However, the size of the water heater does make a difference when showering. I am finding that I must run through my shower once more. I only get about 5 minutes of hot water, then it tapers off rather quickly.

Yes, this may just be me complaining, but too bad. I am learning a lot about myself and my life and what I need. I can give up my yoga work out privacy, I can give up my personal bubble on a bus, I can even give up milk (though I am taking calcium pills) but, I need people who can remember my name and I need hot water for showers.

all for me, for now.
katie

A trip to 3 H's, A 3 H tour, or 3 nights without sleep...

2008-10-28T07:44:00.000-07:00

This blog is separated into three parts for the three towns I visited the week before last. Huancavelica, Huancayo, and Huanuco. Each unique in it's own way, each with it's own unique story...

Huancavelica, aka ¡Me Asustó!...

This was my second trip to Huancavelica since coming to Peru. It is a very small college town in the Andean mountains and by far the biggest town in it's region. And when I say small, it not only refers to the size of the city itself, but also to it's inhabitants. Please note the previous picture of myself in a restaurant where I can not stand up. Ack.

Funnily enough this story takes place in another restaurant in Huancavlica and also has to do with my size......... We had just shown the documentary about the Ica/Huancavelica water issue and Conrado (my boss), Leslie (other YAV), Angelica (my favorite Peruvian and director of ATIYPAQ) along with a few members of the panel from the documentary decided to have dinner at pollo a la brasa (a chain of restaurants where you can order half a chicken for dinner). We ate and talked and had a great time.

Then, when it was time to leave, we did the normal thing....we all scooted out and stood up and put on our coats. However, as I stood up, the man at the next table exclaimed "¡Me asustó!" and started laughing while holding his heart. I did not understand. But Leslie started laughing. I asked her to explain. Basically, when I stood up, I scared the crap out of the man because I am so tall. He wasn't expecting it and I scared him.

His table all started laughing, my table started laughing, the rest of the restaurant started laughing and so did I. It was hilarious. and I have a feeling I will never be able to visit Huancavelica without seeing child trip himself while staring at me, or without my height causing a scene.

Huancayo, aka Last Stop...

I have a friend in Bremerton who is a Seattle bus driver. And he has some fantastic stories from work. One I like in particular is called Last Stop. He had stopped at a bus stop, people entered the bus, sat down, and he started on his way again. Just like any other day, until he heard pounding on the side of the bus. He looked and there was an old man trying to get on. Most days he would have left the old man, but he was in a particularly generous mood and stopped the bus, allowing the man to enter. Well, he more hobbled onto the bus. Taking his time, the old man explained to his bus driver that he had a bad leg and it took him a little bit longer to get around than most people. And he couldn't believe that the bus driver almost left him, etc. My friend started driving, quickly regretting stopping for the man. As the bus lurched forward, the old man almost fell over and repeated very loudly that he had a bad leg, he needed more time to sit down. So, my friend the bus driver, stopped so the man could sit. Again the man explained about his bad leg until he finally reached his seat. He continued on his route, stopping, starting. Folks entering and exiting. Until it was the last stop and he had to return to the bus depot. He announced that it was the last stop and everyone exited the bus. Everyone except for the old man who had barely stood up. Again, my friend announced LAST STOP. The old man looked at him angrily and yelled back BAD LEG. LAST STOP, louder this time. BAD LEG! the man stopping his trek to the door everytime he yelled back. LAST STOP OLD MAN! BAD LEG! and on it went until the man finally exited the bus and the door was closed on his butt. Swearing to never stop for any old people ever again, the bus driver returned to the bus depot, his generous attitude possibly gone forever.

So, when Leslie and I went to Huancayo to visit artisan group Llamcay Tuki, specifically artisans Rosa and Daniel, I wasn´t thinking about a bus. We took a taxi to their home; starting in the center of Huancayo and driving to the outskirts as fields of artichokes and rural houses passed us by. We were greeted by a very pregnant Rosa (9 months and waiting for the new member of the family to join the world). We spent a few hours with them finding out how they burn designs into the gourds and brainstorming ideas for other things that they could make. It was fantastic.

And when we were finished, Daniel brought us to the main road and found the bus we needed. He told us the name of the street we were to get off on and explained how close it was to where we had been earlier that day. In my head, I am thinking that we will recognize the area in which we needed to bajar(get off) the bus. At one point Leslie asked the name of the street we were on, and it wasn't the one we needed and the bus continued to drive. It continued on and on and started to leave the central commercial area. I was nervous. Leslie reassured me we were fine. We finally asked the cobrador(person who collects the fair) where we needed to get off and she told us we should have gotten off when we asked what street we were on. we asked how long it would take until the bus drove back past the same spot. She said maybe a half hour or so. So, we were stuck riding the bus around the town for a bit longer.

Then, the bus turned up a small street and slowed to a stop, then began to back up. I was thinking we were corner backing and we would just drive the route in the opposite direction. And then the bus turned off. The bus driver opened his door and exited the bus, and then the cobrador exited as well. I turned to the rest of the bus, and no one else was there. We were at the last stop. The bus was parked and we weren't going anywhere.

Quickly we ran after the cobrador and again asked when the bus was going back the other way. She shrugged and said maybe half an hour or so. She wasn't exactly sure. But lucky us, there was another bus taking off that would drop us off on the exact street we would need.

We made it back to where we needed to be and we enjoyed a beautifully sunny afternoon. I just couldn't believe I was the old man with a bad leg at the last stop.

Huanuco, aka Time in Transit

We finally made it to Huanuco and were reunited with our other YAV's for our first retreat. It was at a place called LaGranja which I found amazing. They had cows and made fresh yogurt and cheese from their milk. They had an immense garden and they raised cuy(guinea pig) for sale in local markets. It was truly an oasis. It is also a haven for girls who have been raped and now have children as a result. The girls were beautiful with their babies, but it was sad at the same time. The oldest was only 15 and her child is nine months old, the youngest is 13 and she has a 2 month old. We did get to spend some time with them and it was great to see them get to be 15 years old. Not having to worry about their baby's for one game of spoons.

Anyway, we spent a few days processing and sharing our experiences thus far. Sang some songs and I was amazed. All of the songs I learned as a small camper came flying back to me, some new ones as well. In particular a song called Light the Fire. It brings tears to my eyes whenever I sang it at camp and here it was the same. At times in my life, I have had a hard time feeling like God was with me. I always felt Him at camp, but other places He seemed aloof to me. But as we sang Light the Fire, I found that the feeling came back. I know feeling the presence of something greater than me, usually has more to do with me than anything else. It was just nice to be reminded of it.

The last day of our retreat we went to Tingo Maria, which is a little city just over a pass, and nestled in the selva(jungle). When making our days arrangements, our tour guide said it would take about 2 and a half hours to get there. In reality, it took four.

We had planned to climb water falls and see a cave filled with owls and if there was time check ou the butterfly sanctuary. In reality, we barely had time to climb and eat before we needed to leave to get Sean to his bus on time, which he still missed as it took 5 hours for the return trip.

Turns out the combi(small bus/oversized van) we had rented for the day had a bad bearing and the driver coulcn't go very fast. That coupled with the horrible road we had to drive on made our in transit time 9 hours instead of 5. Part of me was upset that we didn't get to do the other things we had planned and that we were forced to spend so much time in the stupid combi. But part of me was grateful for the time to zone out. I have spent a lot of the past 6 weeks seeking what I am doing here. I know part of my job is just to be, but what is the other part? And being stuck in that combi made me just be. Nothing to do but sing some songs and contemplate the cosmos (which i actually got to see that night. that makes two times I have seen the stars). I can't imagine what the tour bus that pulled up behind us thought when they heard us singing Silent Night and O Little Town of Bethlehem. Oh well.

I do have to say, however, the next morning (while in another combi) on our way to the bus station I really had had enough when the spare tire the had put on about 5 minutes from La Granja blew about 5 minutes from the bus station.

Traveling inPeru, aka I don't fit, aka No Sleep For Me

The last thing I have to say about traveling in Peru is this. Peruvians only travel at night. They have these oversized chairs that recline in the buses. Upstairs there is a little less room than downstaris where they have bus camas (bus beds). We convinced our supervisors that we need the bus camas so we could sleep, and we did a little bit. But I must point out again my size. Señor Conrado fits wonderfully upstairs on a double decker bus, I don't. I really am not Peruvian sized.

I've Won the War!!!!!

2008-10-22T10:02:00.000-07:00

All right folks, I want you to know this blogthought is a week old. I just didn't have time to write it up before I left for a week of adventures in Huancavelica, Huancayo and Huanuco. And that trip is another blog entirely, which i will write in a day or two, I don't want to overwhelm you.

Also, still to come, toothbrush madness on the 10E....

Back to the war... as you all should know by now I have an electric shower head that has been waging a war of cold water on me. There was a truce which basically was me learning to listen to the shower head. I finally figured out what it sounded like when it turned off and the cold water was gonna hit me. And so the truce stood until last week.

I was sitting at the dinner table talking with my host mom and brother about my new haircut (yeah, I finally chopped it. About half of it is gone, though it is still longer than my shoulders). Anyway, I was explaining why I cut my hair (in Spanish) and my reasons were these. 1. It had been about a year since I had had a hair cut. 2. The ends were pretty dry. 3. It was really tough showering cause it took so long to wash my hair, and since the water never stayed warm for very long at once, it was just annoying. Though, I had figured out what it sounded like when it was shutting off and could avoid the cold water now. I also explained that the reason why I only showered once a week when I first got here was because I couldn't work the shower. My host mom laughed and told me she thought I was just a dirty hippie. (just for you Kirk)

But while my host mom laughed, she also looked confused. She told me that the water should be warm all the time and that there was probably something wrong with it. So after dinner, we went into my very small bathroom to investigate. Turns out there is a switch on the shower head that makes the water warmer or colder with symbols signifying which is which. Now, I just sound like an idiot at this point, but honestly, you would have shocked yourself to death before ever taking the shower, so I don't want to hear it. The symbols were not C (caliente=hot) and F (frio=cold). The symbols were two filled in circles for hot and one not filled in circle for cold. This is a great example of Peruvain logic. (by the by, Peruvian logic is a myth. I am not convinced it exists).

Anyway, point being I now have incredibly hot water for showers and it is amazing. No more dirty hippie here. It is wonderful. Also really cool point to be made. I explained all of this in Spanish, which I couldn't do a month ago.

all for me, for now.
katie

Still not a lot...

2008-10-11T13:55:00.000-07:00

to say, but i want you all to know i am here and i am okay.

things are happening here and i am learning things everyday. my spanish is ten times better than i had expected it to be at this point. i even get compliments when people find out i have only been speaking it for about three months. three and a half now.

i think the thing i am learning about most is that i had more expectations before i got here than i gave myself credit for. i was convinced that i didn't have any, and now i think i was just fooling myself. things are harder than i thought they would be. but harder in a different way than i was anticipating.

over the past two years i have really gotten to know myself, flaws and all, and i feel like i became a new and improved version of myself. and now, i am struggling to be her still in this entirely different atmosphere. but i am aware. it really is challenging to see me slipping back into some of my old habits. but, in a way, i like it.

i knew this year would challenge me. that is part of the reason i am here. and i am glad for it.

so, for all of you out there who are tagging along with me on this journey, thank you for being there and playing your part in my life. know that right now, it is hard. and i need you, even though you are miles away. and even though it is hard right now, it will get better, and it will get worse, and again it will get better. and if i don't write much, it is like i keep telling my peruvian friends, sometimes i just need a little bit more time to find the words.

and remember, no matter what happens, tomorrow will always come and my hair will always grow.

all for me, for now.
katie

p.s. keep an eye out for the remake of my first official bus infomercial! i bought one, and you are gonna want one too.

I wish...

2008-10-06T15:42:00.000-07:00

I had more words to write. Or laughter to share. Today was a tough day.

I am, to put it lightly, the least confrontational person I have ever met. I run away at all costs. If there is a way out, I take it. I am this way in English. A language I have studied and learned my entire life. It is even worse in Spanish. Honestly, I was so grateful that no one was home when I bought new pillows two weeks ago. I didn't have to explain that my neck hurt, I didn't have to worry about hurting anyone's feelings. I had escaped.

That is why this morning, at our office Monday morning meeting, when I felt I needed to address my language skills with everyone, I cried. I had barely gotten the words out, "Quiero preguntarse..." and tears were already welling up. I got through my well rehearsed speech, asking everyone to be patient with me. To try to speak more slowly if I need it. To maybe explain things in a different way. To try to be patient with me, and to not be frustrated if I ask questions. And to speak directly to me, not to Debbie or Leslie, to me.

I really do understand a lot. And my Spanish is getting better all of the time. I am reviewing what I learned this summer and am going to start taking some more classes in a few weeks. I rattle stuff off with my MamaP every night.

Anyway, that was today. A tough day.

A tough day that I made it through. A tough day that, even through my tears, my coworkers heard me, and not only heard me, listened.

Kind of cool how tough days can be good days.

I Wish My Brain Was Hardwired to a Computer....

2008-09-19T13:52:00.000-07:00

so, I wouldn´t have to try to remember all the cool things I think of to tell people later. Well, I guess it was hard wired some of the time. I do have a bit of a sensor attached to my mouth.

But yeah, I got back from Huancavelica (HVCA) this morning at about 6:30 am. I went with the director of Red Uniendo Manos Peru(RUMP), Conrado--who incidentally was the first Peruvian I met and our conversation went some thing like this(I´ll put it into english) "Hello", "Hello". "something in spanish", "i didn´t quite catch that", "something else in spanish", "yeah, still didn´t catch that"------but anyway, in Hvca, we showed a few groups of people a video on water rights and issues between Ica and Hvca provences. It was pretty cool that by that second showing I sort of figured part of it out. We also set up a time to show it in Oct at the University (I get to go back!!)

I really liked it there a lot. It reminded me much more of home, or anywhere I have ever lived, more than Lima does. It is a country town in the hills. Filled with very short Peruvians. Check out the pics!!

It was really challenging for me as well, since my interpretor was Conrado. If you don´t find this funny yet, check out our first conversation one more time. And outside of me crying in the street the first night(due to exhaustion and chill) trying to explain what was wrong (I think I might have said I was very very married. cansada=tired, casada=married), my spanish improved immensely and I get to go back to Hvca. I am also hoping I can get some of the materials they have on the water issues into English. I have been researching like mad and can´t find anything to help me understand what is going on. I also met an artisan group in Yaoli, a really small village 20km or so from Hvca. They had pigs and small hens. It was great!

But two things that I want to leave you with for the weekend.

1. When I first got to Lima a few weeks ago, I kind of felt like I was in a fishbowl. People watched the group of us and every once in a while I heard the word gringos. Then, I went to Hvca, and I knew I was in a fishbowl. Kids would trip over themselves staring at me in the streets, I think I might have even heard the word giant. But not until Conrado, Angelica and I went to an all-boy´s catholic school to see about space for the upcoming congress de jovenes, and every single boy had his face pressed up against the glass or peering around doorways, or outright following us, did I really feel like a fish.

2. One thing about Lima´s transportation system is that everybody honks the car horn. Someone is standing on a street corner, you honk. You are passing someone, you honk. You are approaching an intersection, you honk. You are running a red light, you honk. Always, always, always. I didn´t think I would ever get used to the honking. That is, until I went to Hvca. On our trip to Yaoli, our taxi driver honked at every corner, at every person, animal and shrubbery. On the way back, our bus driver didn´t. He didn´t honk once and I was so far beyond scared that I am now thankful for every honk I hear.

all for me, for now.
katie

Impromptu jacket shopping for an impromptu trip...

2008-09-16T15:28:00.000-07:00

The director of the Red Uniendo Manos Peru (RUMP), the office I am working in and with this year, asked me this morning if I wanted to accompany him to Huancavelica for a couple days to work with the jovenes (the youth). These are the people that I will be working with a bit for the international environmental congress that is happening in Perú this year.

So, I said yes. Wrote a note to my site coordinator Debbie about the trip, and she called the office within 5 minutes telling me I needed a coat as it is freezing in Huancavelica this time of year. And to bring dramamine and advil for the bus ride and the inevitable elevation sickness.

I ended up going shopping for the first time in Perú with one of the girls from my office, Jenny, and another woman, Dora, who is really involved as a volunteer with many RUMP programs. I was amazed. Now, I worked retail for many years and have never seen anything quite like this. Rows and rows of 8X8 stalls lined 20 feet in the air with shoes, purses, jackets, jeans, everuthing. Amazed.

Needless to say, it is difficult for me to find coats in the US with long enough sleeves, and in Perú, I had the same problem. Multiple times. Finally found a coat I liked AND fit me. Go us. For a great price, go Jenny and Dora.

With that, I leave you in anticipation of the photographs of my electric shower and my impromptu trip to Huancavalica.

all for me, for now,
katie

Turning 27 in Peru... (aka telling a peruvian woman she spoke spanish poorly)

2008-09-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

was not nearly as electrifying or life changing as I thought it was going to be. It was similar to many birthday´s I have had in the states. I called my mom and sang her happy birthday (we share the day) and she sang back to me. Ate food and cake and recieved an amazingly cool scarf from my Mama P (aka my host mother in Peru, her name is Lili and I like her very much. She is almost as sarcastic as I am). She actually made it for me.

The coolest thing about my birthday this year was that I have celebrated for three days. And yep, that means three cakes. I want to bring back the word ´rad´to describe how cool this is.

Other than that, I start work today. AKA writing this blog. I will be adding some pics of my house and my electric shower (not quite as scary as it sounds, but close) and family and friends down here shortly. Still figuring out this whole bloggin thing.

But yeah, my favorite experience thus far was attending the yearly Peruvian cultural dance of my 9 year old host sister(Ana Paula) at her school. Each grade does a dance in the traditional dress from a different region of Perú. It was amazing to see. I loved the music and the costumes(there were a few costume malfunctions which brought me to tears. Baby´s flying out of pouches, scarves and hats flying off, as well as hair. Let´s just say I held my breath when they lit a fire pit and waved nylon flags about.)

But my favorite part of the night was when a woman leaned over to me and said something. Still have no idea what. and She could tell I didn´t understand her, so she turned to her friends and said I didn´t speak spanish. She turned back to me and I responded ¨Si, si, halba español muy malo´, and the look on her face was of utter disgust and outrage. Which made me realize that I had just said, `you speak spanish poorly´, quickly trying to remedy my mistake I said, `no, no, hablas español muy malo´. again, the look of disgust. i now had said you speak spanish poorly in the informal tense. Beyond flustered at this point, I lowered my head and said `no, no, YO hablo español muy malo´and she said `si´.

All that considered, my spanish is getting better all of the time. Though, I do get a little gun shy with people I don´t know.

Otras cosas....

In orientation in Kentucky, they kept talking about things that we would have to give up. And I was imagining things like TV and going out on the weekends--not a big deal, my tv was unplugged sitting behing my couch for 9 months before I left. But the things I am giving up are much different than I imagined. Like, I am giving up my personal bedroom space. When you see the picture, you will understand. I am giving up my self consciousness when I do yoga--now in my living room where everyone watches. I am changing my very specific dietary likes to fit what is available and reasonable. I was definitely pushed in new directions of acceptance last week and only wish that I had had access to a computer to write about how I felt at the moment.

Other than that I am doing something that I am sure many YAV´s are finding themselves doing, making lists of similarities and differences. My differences list is much longer, and I am sure it will continue to grow, but my similarities list I like and would like to share.

·There are young adults and teenagers everywhere, falling in love. I am in awe of the idea that people have been falling in love since the beginning of time, despite war, poverty, malnutrition, governements, natural disasters, and everything else---there has always been love.
·Little kids are cute no matter where you are.
·Big cities have pollution, and poor, and hungry, as well, as rich, fed and can be clean.
·Families and friends laugh together and share their lives.
·We are all connected----my MamaP´s sister has family in Grand Forks and Fargo, where my parents and grandad live.

So, maybe not totally tangible things, but they are comforting to me and I enjoy them.

all for me, for now.
katie

2 Weeks In...

2008-09-12T14:30:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody, just want you to know that I am alive and well in Peru. Getting settled in some and adjusting pretty well. Don´t have much time right now, but I will post more about my first few adventures soon.....like telling a Peruvian woman she spoke Spanish poorly. That was a good one.

paz,
katie

'Twas the night before Peru...

2008-09-01T18:22:00.000-07:00

I sit and look at the keyboard. It is strange to have no words. Over the past few months I have had feelings that range from extreme excitement, utter dread to peace and calm. And right now, I feel nothing.

I leave for Peru tomorrow at 2pm and I have no emotion about it.

It is a very unusual place for me to find myself. I am sitting in and oranage armchair in the common room of Laws Lodge on the Presbyterian Theological Seminarycampus in Louisville, Kentucky and have nothing to say. I, in fact, have been putting off blogging until tonight because I thought I would have something to say tonight.

So far I have three paragraphs that say I don't know what to say.

My fellow YAV's are upstairs having a dance party of sorts, and I can't seem to find comfort in dancing with them, watching them dance, sitting outside the room. I feel the joy they seem to be expressing....perhaps not only joy, but nervousness, maybe some fear. Maybe because I know feel calm and ready, I can not share in their nervous energy.

Anyway, for any and all of you who are reading. 1. Thank you for reading. 2. Please keep me and my fellow YAV's in your thoughts/prayers/energy waves. There are 30 of us going to 5 countries (Peru, Kenya, India, Guatamala, and Northern Ireland) and we all need your support. 3. I would also ask for prayers/energy waves/thoughts for the people who will be receiving us tomorrow and the day after--it all depends on our flight itineraries.

Okay, they are playing my song now, Don't Stop Believin'. I gotta go.

all for me, for now.
peace
katie

My first pair of blue chucks...

2008-08-21T14:24:00.001-07:00

So, yesterday was my last day of work here in the states before I leave for Peru (at some point I have to learn how to make the little accents with a keyboard). It was a pretty good day. I bought my first pair of navy blue chuck taylors. It was a stretch for me to try them out. I usually wear black, but today I like them. And I am glad that they are blue.

And today has been wonderful.

I went and had reflexology and reiki done this morning. I have had reflexology done before and it feels fabulous, but have never experienced reiki before. It was surprising. First off, reiki is a process where your therapist, for lack of a better word, puts their hands on your body in a certain order in a certain way. It's kind of one of those "out there" forms of therapy that has to do with energy and balance. I liked it a lot.

When she started, she started at my head. Her hands where above my face, i could tell where she was even though my eyes were closed because 1. her hands blocked a little bit of the already dim light and 2. there was a heat that radiated. She touched my head in quite a few different ways and my mind was running rampant. Images and thoughts flashed wildly in quick succession. So many thoughts of my life here in Bremerton, and what is seemingly important, and what my ego needs. Slowly she worked her way down my body. She then returned to my head, and my thoughts weren't as quick. One image, one moment would linger for a little bit then fade, and another would appear. By the time she reached my feet again, I was thinking about a big white wall with a big piece of white art hanging in front of it, and a person would flash through the scene, wearing all white.

When she was done, it was just a white wall.

I feel much more calm. I feel ready. The time to be nervous is past. I am going to Peru. I am living in the biggest city I have ever even seen. I will be speaking Spanish. I am so incredibly excited. And the list of things I need to finish before I leave is now just a list of things I am doing today. Of things I am doing tomorrow. That will be done by the time I leave. And then I will be gone.

I hope you all have as peaceful of a feeling as I do right now. I could take a nap. But first, I need to mow the lawn.

all for me, for now.
katie

Postal Code 21...

2008-08-18T11:50:00.000-07:00

So, I found out my host mother's name (Liliana Figueroa) and a little bit about where I will be living. Apparently she hosted another YAV in 06-07 year named Jason. So, he gave me a little bit of insider information on the barrio and the house I will be living in. My room is not connected to the house, but there is a little patio with a hammock!!! and some grass--apparently grass is not a common occurance in Lima. Lili has three children (ages 8-20ish) and her husband works in Washington DC.

I am getting excited now.

Only a week now until I leave. I finished my Spanish class last week, which ended up going really well. I was kind of surprised at how similar, yet very different at the same time, it was to French. So much of the vocab, verbs especially, have the same roots. Makes things a little easier I guess.

Anyway, I was thinking I haven't told you what all I am doing when I am there. I am working for two different organizations, kind of splitting a 40 hour work week into a 20/20 week. One is called Uniendo Manos Contra la Probeza and I will be writing a monthly newsletter called La Retama. They deal with issues like poverty, human rights and environmental violations. The other is called Bridge of Hope, which is a fair trade artisan group. I will be taking some photos and working on their website. I am really excited for this opportunity especially.

Okay, I think that is all for me, for now.
keep praying for me, and for the people who I will be meeting in just two weeks.
Pray for patience!

katie
www.manosperu.org
www.fairtradeperu.com

Fundraising...

2008-07-28T05:35:00.000-07:00

So I was thinking that maybe I should put some information up about my acutal fundraising.

Things are going really well so far. My official number is $3460 as of July 15. I do have $1800 pledged on top of that and around $600 in change donation from my church---which for those of you who are math challenged is $5860. Over half way to my goal of $10,000.

A lot of people have questioned me about having to raise money to volunteer. Seems like a contradiction of sorts---shouldn't my willingness to serve be enough? Well, yes and no. The actual cost of me going to Peru is any where between $20,000-$30,000. This covers my flights there and home, money to my host family for feeding me and giving me shelter, keeps the support staff in YAV office in Louisville in gainful employment (they seriously answer at least 5 questions a week from me alone) and most importantly, I will once again have health insurance. It has been a while since that happened.

Point being, there are a lot of costs for me to do this, and thus, the fundraising.

Speaking of cheesecake, if you are interested in donating (a tax deductible donation I might add) you can do so really easily online with a credit card or send a check snail mail. Online, go to http://www.pcusa.org/yav/support.htm and scroll to the bottom of the page and click on my name. ( I am position 3). Snail mail, make checks payable to PC(USA) with the following written on the memo line (Katherine Rains ECO#210803) and send it to Presbyterian Remittance Processing, PO Box 643700, Pittsburgh, PA 15264-3700.

But really, outside of monetary support, I am in need of some prayers (aka thoughts, positive energy, good vibes, etc) . It's not always an easy thing to do what we are called to do. I talked before about fear. How truly meaningful things in life will scare you, but are, as a good friend once said, "worth it!".

I am not going to lie and say that I am not nervous or scared about leaving for a year, or finishing my preparations to leave. I am. And I was talking to someone at church on Sunday who asked how I was and I told her "I'm scared". She said, "Of course you are. It is so difficult to have courage of faith. But this is the right thing, your right thing. I'll pray for you." And that thought is still helping calm my nerves and swallow my fears.

Which is why I ask for more. Leaving with the thought that my friends and family are praying for me assuages my soul and encourages my heart. Thank you for this support. I need you.

All for me, for now.
Paix,
katie

Packing...

2008-07-24T07:19:00.001-07:00

I kind of like that I use the ... a lot. it makes me happy.

But really, I am packing.
Packing my books, clothes I will not be taking with me, sheets, kitchen utensils, notebooks, letters, photographs....everything. Trying to decide what to take with me is insane. What do you need for a year in Peru? My site leader, Debbie, said that it has been a mild winter, you know, it's gotten up to 70 degrees lately....have I mentioned that my summer in Washington has been around 70 degrees on average days. Yes, it does get warmer, but man.....winter at 70?!?

My big questions were with laundry (they have been assuaged now). It may be due to my limited traveling experience, but how often do people in Peru, or any other country for that matter, do their laundry? And do they use our American conventional standard of washer and dryer----or hand wash in a river or use buckets? Do they have refrigerators? Do they drink milk?----I drink a gallon a week!

I know that when I was deciding to go, these questions were not part of my decision making process. And I don't think that they are particualrly important questions, nor are their answers. But they come to mind when I am packing and provoke an even bigger question.

How exactly is my life going to change over the next year?

Yes, there will be the big changes---speaking spanish, dreaming in spanish, living in a spanish world-----huge change. Not having my sister around all the time, or being able to call my mom when I need to vent or just a shoulder. But those are obvious changes. How will my world view change? I think it is inevitible that it will, but what will the change be? Will my desire to travel and speak new languages be engorged, or diminished? Will I want to spend more time in the US making changes at home? I guess a good way to put it would be to say, who will I be when I step off the plane at SeaTac airport in August of 2009?

Makes me wonder.
All for me for now.
Paz.

just some thoughts...

2008-07-22T06:23:00.000-07:00

so, i was looking at a fellow peru yav's blogspot, and i feel like such an amateur. she has so much information up from where she is going to how she feels about using a digital camera while she is there. i never really thought that i compared myself to others like this, but man, maybe i do.
and it makes me think of the fact that i had to overnight my packet of information because i had my will notorized the day before paperwork was due, while yet another peru yav had had her stuff in at least a month beforehand.

we have these books we have to read about going in to missions, and if this is the right decision. taking into account how our friends and family feels about us leaving for so long. what kind of work we are expecting. and they do make me stop to think what i have gotten myself into. what decision did i make and how did i come to it? why on earth am i spending my summer learning spanish (?por que estoy aprendiendo espanol en el verano?) i have never wanted to go to south america, i have never wanted to learn spanish. i like french, and japanese, and sailing and running.

despite my best efforts to discourage myself. something is still calling me. it started about a year ago with a single thought, "get out of the US." and then turned into "do something." "make a difference." "change." and the words have changed into actions. not my own actions, but assurances coming from people around me. My sister just happened to take her honeymoon in Peru. My french teacher just happened to teach a really intense summer spanish course. Four friend from different periods of my life all happen to be going to Peru to hike the Inca Trail. An older couple from my church were missionaries in Peru back in the 50's or 60's. My mom met a young man about my age at a conference in some southern state who spent a year in volunteer service in Lima and if I happen to have any questions or need someone to talk to, he is there.

And then there is the story my father shared with me.

I never met my real grandfather. He passed away from pneumonia when my dad was 12 or 13 years old. He had been witnessing at a bar and a man ended up taking his car, jacket and shoes leaving him to walk over three miles home in a colorado winter. Before he had died, he had really wanted to do some mission work and had convinced my grandma that after the kids had grown that they should go to Peru. and she had agreed. He obviously died before they went, but this is the story that has calmed my father's heart about my leaving for Peru.

So, to my point. Though I am scared, nervous, and impossibly disorganized about leaving. In my life, I have found the things that were the most worth doing were the things that scared me, made me nervous, and I had a hard time keeping organized.

This is worth doing.

all for me for now.

Beginnings...

2008-06-15T16:07:00.000-07:00

So, today was my first day of real fundraising. I spoke in front of the church and I felt like it went really well. I haven't counted all of the change I received, but cash alone I raised $480.00. I was totally blown away. I had an idea for a change for change jar.....and people put in more bills than change. Kind of blew my mind a bit.

Anyway, this is my first blog and I will keep it short. I was just amazed by people. I was also really amazed by how many people have connections to Peru, either they have a friend who lives there, or have been there before, one woman was born there. Truly amazing.

all for me for now,
peace
katie