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| With the moms of Lanchan, at the monthly weighing and measuring of their kids |
After a whirlwind training in the north of Peru, I am beyond content to be back home, in the picturesque mountains and rainy afternoons of Ancash. March has been a month of significant milestones: the 6 month anniversary of our arrival in Peru and our Early In-Service Training. Periodic trainings and workshops are a major part of Peace Corps service and this was the first time all of the health volunteers have been together since November. Of course the main purpose of the meeting was not a volunteer reunion, but rather a chance for us to practice presenting our community diagnostics before we do it in front of our communities in April. This training was a much needed recharge for me. Over the past month I had been feeling increasingly frustrated with the obstacles encountered in getting to know my site and integrate into the smaller surrounding communities (where the need is greatest), where I am still just a visitor who comes in for a few hours to do health questionnaires. I’ve been lacking that experience of living with the people that I’m serving- eating with them, going out to work in the fields, just hanging out and talking. After talking with my program director, we’ve decided it would be beneficial for me to stay out in the caserios for a few days rather than hiking up and down the mountain in one day. This works out well since both Chichucancha and Challhuayaco have health posts where I can sleep. This is my main plan of action for the month of April. I actually already spent my first night in the health post in Chichu earlier this month, during which I learned a few valuable lessons, first and foremost to bring an extra pair of socks because they can get soaking wet through one’s rain boots and that makes for an uncomfortable night’s sleep. Plus, it gets COLD up there at night. I slept in an exam bed with several heavy wool blankets, and was thankful that I had thought to pull out my long underwear for the first time in Peru.
With this new plan of action, and a number of potential project ideas from our recent training, I’m anxious to get back to work in my site. It’s a good feeling to miss your site and the familiar faces you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. On my walk to buy bread the first evening I was back I had to explain to several people that I wasn’t on vacation for two weeks and I was actually doing work. I think a few of them had thought I went back to the US.
I was able to visit two new departments of Peru during training- La Libertad and Piura. It was a great opportunity to experience more of this amazing country, but it also meant way too many hours on buses. I experienced climates and scenes totally unlike that of Ancash- Huanchaco, a lazy tourist/surfer town on the coast, and Sicchez, a rural town in the semi-tropical mountains of upper Piura that reminded me of the interior of Puerto Rico. We could see Ecuador from Sicchez to give you an idea of how far north we went. I can’t say that I minded a little extra oxygen and some sol, playa y arena, but my time out of site helped to assure me that I was placed just where I’m supposed to be. Not only did I miss the climate but also the way of life. I wanted to embrace the first little old Quechua lady that I saw in Huaraz. The common phrase among volunteers in my department is “Ancash is better.” I always thought this was a little silly and elitist because our living conditions tend to be “rougher” than in other departments, but now that phrase genuinely means something to me.
The coming and going of training has also put a little fire in me because I’m realizing how quickly the time is passing and how much work there is to be done. In analyzing the data on my community that I have thus far and seeing the work that other volunteers are doing, I have a better idea of what is and isn’t feasible in my site. I’m starting to organize the mess of qualitative and quantitative data that I have into potential projects. I’m also realizing that there are some serious gaps in information that need to be filled as well. A large part of my success depends on the potential for collaboration with community partners which isn’t always easy. However, one of the realizations I had during training is that I am one of my greatest obstacles to completing a successful two years of service. The job of a Peace Corps volunteer is relatively unstructured. We have numerous reporting requirements, but there is no boss or supervisor monitoring your progress on a daily basis. Each site is unique so there is no standard formula for success. I recently found myself missing having an office or at least a desk to work at. While the hike out to Chichu never ceases to amaze me, sometimes I wish my commute was a little less physically exerting. Basically, what it comes down to is the importance of our personal motivation, and making our actions align with our attitudes. I am strongly motivated by my passion for public health, Christian principles of service and a firm belief that this is my vocation. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve given thanks for doing this at this time in my life, when I have the maturity and discipline to function well in this environment. However, I also have to occasionally fight my tendency towards solitude and believing I can do things just as well on my own. Sometimes it takes a lot of effort to leave my room because I know I can’t just put on my ipod and walk down the street, unnoticed, like I so often did at home. Here, I have to greet strangers with a ‘good morning’ or ‘good afternoon’ and closer acquaintances with a kiss on the cheek and few inquiries about their well-being. My gut reaction when not receiving the warmest welcome at the health center was to say, I don’t need your help, and keep my distance. I’m realizing that a better response is a little more persistence on my part. Peace Corps (and Latino culture in general I believe) is forcing me to be more assertive and step out of my comfort zone. The best part is that these extra efforts at integration always pay off. My happiest times at site are when I’m interacting with people, even if we can’t understand each other in the case of Quechua speakers. In regards to the health personnel, just like me, I’m finding that they start to open up as we get used to seeing each other. I know it's trite, but what I get out of this experience totally depends on what I put into it.
Some potential project ideas for when I have wrapped up my community diagnostic at the end of April are:
· Begin a “Healthy Families” project in Chichu which would incorporate elements such as improved kitchens, latrines, family gardens and small animal husbandry, as well as sessions on hygiene and nutrition.
· Implement a behavior change campaign among mothers in Chichu with children (0-6 mo.) to reduce the rate of chronic malnutrition (currently 8 out of 10 children are chronically malnourished).
· Start a youth group in Chavin with high school students to provide training in health themes so they can later serve as peer health promoters.
· Small business initiatives including working with the already established artisan group, and helping the mothers of Virgen del Carmen to generate income through baking in their homes.
· A regular radio spot on health themes.
In other news, Mama Jean is coming to visit for my birthday in August….yay!!! Everyone is excited to meet her here. I can’t wait to see their reaction to my mother being a different color. Even in the US, that was sometimes a tough one for people to grasp. Peruvians share a similar obsession with skin color and lighter skin rules here. From looking at advertisements, you would think all Peruvians are light skinned…kind of like they think all gringos are white with blue eyes from what they see in the media. Sometimes I question whether my arrival would have been met with more excitement if I looked more like the stereotypical gringa, but I’m thankful for the opportunity to change some misconceptions.
I recently had my most US experience in a long time. During a brief layover in Piura City, I ate Pizza Hut, drank a cappuccino, and saw my first American film in a movie theater in Peru. It was a classically cheesy Nicholas Cage film about a witch hunt. I thought it was super entertaining, but my friends told me they would never let me pick the film again; apparently, it was too scary. After the movie, we rode a ferris wheel and saw the most amazing view of the city at sunset. We screamed like we were on a roller coaster (to the delight of the operator), and some of the fear was legit since the structural integrity of the ride was questionable upon close examination. In short, we titled it one of the best days ever.
Overall, it’s been a great first quarter and I look forward to all that is to come. Stay tuned and stay in touch…
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| Brown team in Sicchez |
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| My bus buddy, Tony...it was such hard work getting this smile! |
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| Me and the ladies in Piura during the best day ever |
