Collaboration is key.

       This past week I worked with one of the members of Pushaq Warmi, the women’s group I work with through Women’s Global Connection, and Sembrando Infancia, the public health project I volunteer with, on a workshop for some moms in Cambio Puente.

            Since Cambio Puente is out in a rural area they have easy access to fresh milk. If they were to sell the milk directly they’d get about 1.50 soles per liter sold. This is pretty decent since it doesn’t cost a whole lot to raise partially free-ranging milk cows. Not all the women in Cambio Puente have the time, space or ability to raise milk cows however.

            Sandra, the member from Pushaq Warmi, and I needed to come up with a creative way to capitalize on the milk readily available in Cambio Puente.

It just so happens that Sandra knows how to make yogurt. 

Day 1: Preparing the milk to ferment.

            After purchasing the milk, the bacteria for fermenting the milk, the sugar, fruit and a few other ingredients, the total cost of producing yogurt is around 2.50 soles per liter. Yogurt sells at around 4.50 soles per liter in the market, and sometimes women sell small individual servings on the street for a sol each, and there are about five or six servings in one liter, making yogurt pretty profitable.    

            One thing I think is cool is that the whole process is local. By making yogurt, the women are supporting local dairy producers as well as increasing their own incomes. Another plus is that since the yogurt is homemade, it’s naturally pro-biotic, high in calcium and protein, making it a better alternative to a package of cookies.

Day 2: The yogurt turned out. Here Sandra is adding the strawberry marmalade she made the day before.

            The women were excited to learn how to make it, especially now that it’s summer and yogurt is popular around this time. The two-day workshop was a success and the yogurt turned out good. Sandra was worried that the bacteria wouldn’t take because it needs a really clean environment to grow, and Cambio Puente is pretty dusty.

            The women came from a group called Vasos de Leche which is daily breakfast program for children in high-poverty areas. Every morning children in Vasos de Leche receive a free breakfast by going to one of these women’s houses. Usually a glass of hot milk and some type of grain like oatmeal or quinoa. For this reason, most of them should already have all the implements needed to start making, and hopefully selling, yogurt right away.

            Sandra is going to talk with the rest of the women from Pushaq Warmi and their next meeting to see if projects like this will be something that they choose to do more of in the future.

            Next, the women want to learn how to make cheese, but we’re going to take things one step at a time.

Sandra and I with the yogurt entrepreneurs.

Fire Update

A quick bit of good news.

Donations to the victims of the San Pedro fire have been overwhelming. Charity organizations are no longer accepting clothes because they've received so much already. Kelli who volunteers with the Good Sheppard sisters told me yesterday that they received so much, it's going to take a couple of days just to sort through it all. Now they are focusing on drinking water, food, cooking utensils like pots and pans, and building supplies. The fact that so much has been donated over such a short period has really motivated the relief effort. I'm sure everyone's thoughts and prayers are helping very much too.

A fire in San Pedro.

---Translated from the Americatv.com news site:

Hell in the north. A fire charred about 600 homes in the slums Jose Sanchez Mile in the lower area of ​​the Cerro San Pedro, in Chimbote. Also hit by the flames were the areas of Los Jardines and Nuevo Horizonte.

The fire burned houses that were built of sticks and estera mats in a 12 blocks radius, near the city.

The incident occurred midway through 11 a.m. and after more than three hours was only able to be controlled by firefighters and the villagers themselves.

Precisely, the affected population showed their disgust with the regional president of Ancash, Cesar Alvarez Aguilar, and the provincial mayor of Santa, Luis Arroyo, for not implementing the Fire Company with better resources, despite a budget that is managed in the region.

The residents also demanded that the municipality give them land titles without them they can not build and improve the state of their homes.

At press time, it is yet to be determined exactly how many people suffocated by the smoke, but no casualties were reported.
One of the wounded was a watchman, who suffered minor burns. Those affected were registered with representatives of Civil Defense to receive food, tents and other supplies.

THE REASON

It is not known exactly what caused accident. Initial inquiries suggest that the fire occurred because a cook with wood stove in the backyard. He could not control the fire and it spread rapidly to other lots. After that, several gas tanks exploded, spreading flames further.

However, according to RPP Noticias, firefighters said that this incident was caused by a short circuit for illegal connections that are in the area.

--------

This past Saturday Emily, Katie and I visited the area to help the Diocese of Chimbote hand out donations of clothes and water. In all there were about twenty of us to help pass out the bags of supplies to a pre-arranged group of those affected by the fire.

I was surprised to see that there wasn’t much evidence of a fire. Just a giant empty field that looked littered with trash. At the top of a sandy, gently sloping hill was what appeared to be a tent city. Blue canvas and vinyl disaster relief tents flapped in the hot wind.

I walked partway up the hill and was able to see another field filled with piles of black ash and debris close by. I realized that the city had already bulldozed much of the area and gathered the aftermath in a nearby empty lot. Further up the hill we saw real signs of the damage. After we passed out everything we’d brought, the coordinator asked us to split into groups of two and find out what the people there need most and also to see if anyone needed help rebuilding. 

 

My friend Giancarlo and I started at the bottom of the hill to see what we could do. As we walked through an area with minimal damage, Giancarlo turned to me and said, “I think we should only stop at houses without a man around. We should look for a single mother or grandma or something who’ll really need our help.” I agreed and we stopped at one house to talk to a woman, but she said she didn’t need any help rebuilding, although, they didn’t have anything to eat. Her and her family would be depending on relief services for food that day.

We found out that they were all receiving adequate water though. A giant truck had been coming to fill large donated barrels with potable water for the community, a good sign. 

              It wasn’t long before we came across Hermana Katty, one of the Incarnate Word sisters, waving us over to an older woman dragging a roll of estera towards her tent. Hermana Katty explained that the woman needed help creating a barrier against the wind and sun in front of her tent. It was getting too hot during the day to remain in the tent, but it was also too hot and windy to stay outside. We later found out that her husband was with her daughter and her baby, the old woman’s grandson, at the hospital. She wanted to have an enclosed area built by the time they returned. After about thirty minutes of dusty, sweaty work, the four of us managed to build an enclosure for the woman.

            After talking to another woman, we learned that many of the residents were upset because of the large amount of looting. Apparently as people were rushing to get their belongings out of their houses before they burned to the ground, some busied themselves with taking all the unprotected stuff.

            “It’s sad. It’s sad that we lost our house and it’s sad that there are people taking advantage of the situation like this. By robbing their neighbors.” she said as we stood with her in a line waiting for a donation bag.

            As we were leaving the area, on our way to an area with taxis, we noticed a large crowd of people, some yelling, some with camcorders recording. In the center of the crowd was Cesar Alvarez, our regional governor. Before then I’d only seen his smiling face all over signs throughout the city. Standing in the middle of that crowd though, he was definitely not happy. People demanded to know why more wasn’t being done.

             The fire only highlighted a deeper problem. Why were there so many people without adequate housing? The slum in San Pedro is one of many other slums in and around Chimbote. Yes the fire was a horrible disaster, but we need to look at the bigger picture. I’m sure it’s a complicated issue, but the bottom line is that the victims represent a portion of this community who are suffering because of a lack of income and affordable housing. 

            They are forced to make do with what they have, and that means buying cheap, extremely flammable bamboo mats to build their homes. I hope that Cesar Alvarez is proactive and does something to help the people of San Pedro, both short and long-term, and doesn’t take the “these homes shouldn’t have been here in the first place” approach, which would be a bad ending to an already sad story.

            We’re planning on going back out this Saturday to help more, however we can. 

Peruvians visit Peru, Nebraska

Here is a funny video by the team that came up with La Marca Peru. A group of famous Peruvians visit Peru, Nebraska to show them what they're missing.

What's popular in Peru?

One of the things that I think is cool about being a long term missionary is that I have been here long enough to understand what is popular here. We've met a few short term volunteers throughout our time here, people who are here for weeks or months, and it's hard to imagine them being here for so little time. If someone was visiting you from Peru for a week and asked you to show them the most popular things in the U.S. where would you even begin? Over the past five months I've been able to pick up on some of the more subtle things about what's popular in Peruvian culture.

First, if you were walking down the street today in Chimbote, it wouldn't be long before you heard this song playing:

It's actually a song from Brazil so it's in Portuguese, but since Brazil is our neighbor, this song made its way across the border and onto every playlist made after August 2011. An artist recently redid it in Spanish, but this is still the version I hear on my way to work, at work, when someone's cell goes of, in the taxi...

Next is a viral video from Argentina that a lot of people are passing around right now. With over 9 million views some of you may have even already seen it. Basically from what I understand "wacho" is a derivative of gaucho, the name for the Argentinian version of cowboy. Apparently it's a slang term to address a boy around the age of 10 whose name you don't know. Turro is the name for a style of dress that includes mostly name brand sports wear, like Adidas jackets/shoes. Together the two words form the name of a popular Argentinian cumbia band Los Wachiturros that has a particular dance style. But, the question is, do you need to know any of that to think this is funny:

Peruvians are pretty serious about their clothes. It was one of the first things that Katie and I read on the packing list, "Peruvians always try to look their best, bring some nice shirts." They weren't kidding. Since I live near the coast and its summer time people have switched from jackets and pants to shirts, shorts and bathing suits.What surprised me were all the brands I recognized.

A common Peruvian store has at least these well known brands.

Peru has really nice beaches. Even a couple of world-class surfing beaches which has obviously impacted the style of clothing that they wear. I think people, especially guys my age, were a little disappointed at my billabonglessness. Especially since I talk about growing up near a beach.

Whereas fast food to me means a Whataburger all the way with cheese, mayo and jalapenos. Here they eat something called pollo a la brasa. Basically you get a piece of rotisserie chicken with french fries, a bunch of sauces, salad and a glass of chicha morada or Inca Kola.

It's no Whatachicken but it is pretty good.

Cremas: Spicy mayo, spicier mayo, spiciest mayo, ketchup, mayo mayo.

Chicha morada is a really popular drink here made from purple (morado) corn. Essentially you boil the purple corn in water with cinnamon sticks, cloves, a special kind of tiny apple. After about fifteen minutes you drain off all the liquid, add sugar, lime and a little bit of pineapple juice and chill it.

It's like a Peruvian version of kool-aid and now that it's hot outside, nothing beats drinking a glass of it ice cold.

Finally: La Marca Peru.

This past year, to promote tourism and general diffusion of Peruvian culture, the Commission for Promotion, Exportation and Tourism unveiled a new "symbol" for Peru, calling it "La Marca Peru."

  

Taking a cue from the Nazca lines, the symbol has become extremely popular throughout Peru. 

and it's taken on a life of its own. Owning at least one shirt with La Marca has become almost essential.Symbolic of Peruvian pride and style. Instead of people searching out Inca Kola shirts, people are now demanding La Marca.

Alright, that's it for now. I hope everyone's Friday the 13th wasn't too unlucky.

Blooper

Just something funny I caught but cut out of the video.

WGC Video

Tere, my director from Women's Global Connection visited this past December with Dr. Lisa Uribe and Zuani Villareal. I made a video of their time here. Still some bugs, but its what I have for now. Hope you enjoy seeing what I've been doing for the past 5 months. Oh yeah, I'm behind the camera for most of this, but I'm there.

Holiday Highs and Lows

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

If somebody told me a year ago that I’d be ringing in 2012 thousands of miles away from my home by burning a life size doll filled with weapons grade explosives in the street, I’d have said, “...awesome.”

—but more about that later.

We’re in the dead of summer now, which means I spend my waking life in a constant pool of my own sweat. On the bright side, I get two of my favorite holidays rolled into one: Christmas and summer vacation. While Christmas in the Rio Grande Valley isn’t exactly known for being cold (except that one year it snowed on Christmas Eve) I definitely couldn’t have ever spent it in my bathing suit and flip-flops. Here, it’s the only way to beat the heat. Even the dogs ditched their clothes. 

I had a good holiday. I missed home more than ever, but we all knew that was going to happen, so at least it wasn’t a surprise.

There were some highs, definitely some lows, but overall my first Christmas and New Year in Peru was great.

I’ll give you the run-down.

One of the first things you need to know about Christmas in Peru is that they eat something called paneton. It’s a type of bread that can only be compared to fruit cake, but even that doesn’t describe it well. It’s a giant round loaf of soft chewy bread with candied fruit. 

Paneton

Chocolatadas are really popular events around the holidays which, at the very least, include paneton, hot-chocolate (in the summer, as if it wasn’t hot enough already) some Christmas carols and a small gift. Organizations normally hold chocolatadas in thanksgiving of their staff and their families, or for less fortunate people throughout the area. I’ve also heard that during election years it’s common for candidates to hold giant chocolatadas to gain some extra attention. Some are fancier than others but if you go to one, you’re at least assured of a piece of panetone and some chocolate. 
I started losing track of the number of chocolatadas I was invited to or a part of after about the fifth or sixth. 

Katie and I carrying pots of chocolate at the Hospice chocolatada.

As for all the panetone I ate…all I have to say is that I’m glad it’s only an annual tradition. 

High
            The posta that I work with decided to hold a chocolatada for the children of a rural community up in the mountains about two hours from Chimbote. That experience has definitely been one of the coolest I’ve had so far. For starters, my co-worker Diana and I got to ride in the back of the small pick-up truck as we ascended up the mountain. 

View from the back of the truck.

The mist.

Whereas Lima smells like the big city, Chimbote smells like fish, and Cambio Puente smells like campfire, Huashcayan smells like eucalyptus, which grows everywhere at that altitude, and fresh mountain air. Once we got high enough, the mist began to roll in and we had to ride in the cab.

Some of the kids in their classroom.

We picked up some honey that is a big product in the area, which tasted like no honey I’ve ever had before, raw with the flavor of eucalyptus since that’s one of the primary plants the bees feed on. 

            Once we arrived, the children from the school ran out to great us. 

Finishing lunch.

 Even though it was midday, the cold mist made it seem more like early morning. 

The Sembrando Infancia team was happy with their meal: anchovies, beans and rice.

The children live in homes scattered across the mountain side and most of them spoke Qechua, one of the native languages here. We gathered them into their mud-bricked meeting hall and after some carols and a couple of games, we gave them their panetone, chocolate, and each one got a Christmas present.

The kids were really humble and thankful and seemed to enjoy spending time celebrating even more than the gifts they received.

Here, I called it cuy.

            Afterwards the teachers and aides had prepared lunch for us, a sierra classic: Cuy. You may actually be familiar with this popular Peruvian meat source, but you’ve probably only ever seen it at your local Petsmart. Stateside we call it Guinea pig. Is it Cuy or Guinea pig, a cute pet or a tasty lunch? I guess it’s all just a matter of where you live…and how hungry you are. As for me, I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to food—and I skipped breakfast that morning. 

Low

Sometimes, I’m too adventurous when it comes to food. I was at the post office waiting on a package for Katie (our mom’s had the genius idea to send me Katie’s Christmas gifts and Katie mine since they have to open up everything in front of you) when their system crashed. They told the impatiently queuing crowd that it’d probably be another hour, at the least. While everyone groaned and complained to each other, I decided I’d kill some time at get something to eat since my place in line was already locked in.

I ran over to a market called Nuevo Progreso, which we only normally go to for building materials but it was close by. I planned on getting some ceviche, but decided that it wouldn’t be safe to eat it there. Instead I saw a small booth selling a combo of seafood soup and a piece of cooked fish, and the price was cheap. I figured, “It’s soup…it’s been cooking all morning, right?” For the main course I had the option between stingray and eel and for a person like me, that’s a win-win.

At three in the morning, the eel was still swimming.

By four in the morning my body decided that it belonged back in the wild and went about trying to do that in two different ways. 

            As I shivered under my covers Katie checked my temperature which held steady at 102.5.

            After an emergency visit to the posta I received a regimen of pills, some pharmaceutical strength Gatorade and was advised to never, ever eat on the street again. And after a near death experience and five days of sleeping with a bucket beside my bed, I learned my lesson.

           

High

            I was back on solid foods by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, just in time, I thought, to be really homesick. 

Making Christmas cookies one Community Night

           Instead, I had a really simple and nice night with my community. We went to the Christmas Eve mass at nine in our parish which was nice because we got to see all of our friends afterwards and Katie and Emily were angels in the Christmas play.

 

            We got back to the house at 10:30 to find that our power had gone out and shuffled around until we found some candles. 
Katie had gotten some Velveeta macaroni for Christmas and we decided to have that for our Christmas dinner.

Emily, Kelli, Katie, Sister Sofia and Sister Katty after Christmas Mass. 

Emily still had a charge on her laptop so Kelli put on a DVD we have with snowy nature scenes and Christmas music. As we sat in the dark eating mac n’ cheese and ketchup with scenes of somewhere cold playing on loop in the background, I realized that I really love it here. We joked and laughed and shared stories about our past Christmases. At midnight we scraped out the last of the cheese and then, in Peruvian tradition, went to put baby Jesus in our miniature manger. If there is one thing I think makes every holiday better, its fireworks, and luckily for me, Peruvians think so too. We essentially spent the next thirty minutes running around our street cheering, greeting our neighbors and playing with fire. As I sat in bed that night, the sulfur smell of firework smoke seeping in through the hole in my wall, I thought about how much I missed home, but also how I’d never forget my first Peruvian Christmas.

High

            I was invited by one of the students in our English class to listen to his university’s English class sing Christmas carols and I agreed. 

Once I got there I realized I was in for a big surprise.

What qualifies me to be a judge? I speak English?

           I had been made one of the judges of the entire English program’s Christmas carol contest. 

"Runeoff a Renose Raineer"

Emily just happened to be on campus working with the ministry center there, so she was able to help me out. I got Katie to come a little later. 

The tree didn't sing but no points were deducted.

At first I thought that I was going to go crazy after the tenth (I’m not exaggerating) version of “Jingle Bell Rock” also known as “jingo bey rocks” but it actually got me into the Christmas spirit, and after four months of looking like a fool trying to speak Spanish, I’d say I earned it. It’s about time the shoe was on the other foot. Seriously though, their English was pretty good.

Katie smiling as she delivers a dream crushing score of 2.

Low

            A school in Chimbote with good intentions decided that they wanted to have a chocolatada for some of the children in Cambio Puente. They asked Sembrando Infancia, the project I volunteer with, for their help since they are well known in the community.

            At ten o’clock I stood in the garden of the local Catholic church, bracing the giant metal gates closed against a crowd of mothers and their children. Apparently the word had gotten out.

            The sun was blazing in the sky and a couple of ice cream men circled their carts around the sweaty crowd, loudly blowing on their ice-cream bugles. Three giant tour buses loudly hissed to a stop in front of the church and the group from Cambio Puente turned and looked hungrily at the packages being unloaded. 

            One of the teachers forced a path through the crowd to let the mothers and children from Chimbote file into the garden. The economic gap between the two populations couldn’t have been more obvious.

            A tall, chubby boy wearing glasses and a shiny red track suit (his school’s uniform) talked and laughed loudly as he shoved his way through the crowd of children, some of them barefoot, none of them chubby or wearing uniforms. It also hit me that none of them wore glasses, even though I’m sure some of the kids probably need them.

            Their mothers shuffled in behind them with bags of chocolate milk and gifts, most wearing giant sunglasses, nice clothes and jewelry. It was as if they’d actually gone out of their way to dress up.

            The crowd began pushing against the gate, some children slipped in, encouraged by their mothers, the sharp sound of a crying baby split the air, only to quickly be covered over by the ice-cream bugle.

The tension began to escalate.

An old man, who, looking back probably had Alzheimer’s symptoms, demanded that he be let in. One of Sembrando’s community agents explained to him that it was only for children but he shook his head and tried to shove past a woman holding her daughter up to the gate for a better view. I blocked his path and he just smiled sheepishly and faded back into the jostling crowd. The school had provided a list of children who could come in and people began to yell that it wasn’t fair, especially the women who participated in Sembrando Infancia. Diana yelled an explanation that it wasn’t Sebrando’s event.

            After they’d given away all the gifts the children from Chimbote left skipping to their buses while the mothers from Cambio Puente staggered from the church, children in tow, looking shell-shocked.

            Later as we were leaving I saw a black SUV driving through the town being chased by crowds of kids as a man hanging out the back tossed treat bags into the dirt—because nothing says Christmas like seeing children scavenging for candy.

            It was hard learn anything positive from that experience, except for the understanding that it’s what Christmas should not be like. I now have a new appreciation for the Incarnate Word when they make it a priority to protect the dignity of the poor. Giving should not be about making yourself feel better. We should give in order to empower.

            The only highlight was being able to visit Jesus to take him a toy ball my aunt Debbie sent. He smiled brightly as he ripped of the blue wrapping paper and saw the new ball. His aunt thanked me warmly and Jesus gave me a big hug. “This is more like it,” I thought.

High?

            Our kittens are all alive and healthy so we must have done something right.

Kittens both alive and healthy.

 They’re eating solid food now, which came just in time for Fidea because their teeth are coming in. We´ve found homes for the four of them already, so now we´re just waiting for them to ween.

Someone threw two kittens into the garden at the sisters’ house, but the sisters aren’t allowed to have any animals because their home is connected to the posta and it’s against health code. So, long story short, we’ve just started the newest Chimbote branch of the ASPCA. The two new kittens are Wobbly Cats (it’s a real name for a real feline disorder--the actual name for it is cerebellar hypoplasia) which means they walk around like they’ve had one-too-many. We’re still trying to get them in good shape, and since they’re disabled cats it’s going to be a little harder to find them homes, but we’ll see. 

The wobblers. (I want to keep one)

For me, coming from a home with five dogs, something like ten chickens and three cats, the more animals the better, so I’m happy. Fidea’s babies like to crawl up onto my whenever I'm asleep which means I have make sure I don’t roll over and wake up to a bunch of kitten pancakes. 

It's the situation going on near my arm-pit that worries me.

Low

            One of the students from my English class called me one evening and asked to talk with me. She’s a really kind middle-aged woman who lives at home with her parents and studies English for fun. I agreed and the next night I met her outside the sisters’ house to talk. On the verge of tears, she explained to me that a few days prior she’d been robbed at gun point while walking downtown. She showed me the bruises where she’d been pushed to the ground. As she talked about it she began to shake and her voice cracked. I was at a loss for words…Spanish and English. I prayed for the right thing to say….

            “Have you visited the posta?”

            “Yes, they looked at my bruises.”

            “Oh. But have you thought about seeing the psychologist. That was a traumatic experience. You need to talk to somebody about this.”

            “I know, that’s why I called you. You are a missionary, I thought you…I don’t know…”

            I prayed even harder, willing for some kind of help.

            Just then Sister Sofia rounded the corner coming home from mass.

I sighed with relief. After some convincing, I convinced her to come with me to talk to Sister Sofia.

            Luckily for me Sister Sofia understood the seriousness of the situation immediately and took us to the sisters’ small chapel. We talked for about an hour and a half, Sister Sofia knowing exactly what to say. I felt really blessed that she came when she did, I don’t know what I would have done without her. I was reminded that bad things happen to good people, even around the holidays. I really do feel like that was the first time I was called up to bat as a missionary while being here. I feel like I work everyday as a volunteer, but in terms of spiritual matters, that’s the first time I really felt needed. And I can’t say I’m ashamed that I needed a little help from a pinch hitter.

High

          

The New Year, Peruvian style. 

We spent it at a late night mass with all of our friends, like on Christmas. We got home to find that our power was out, like on Christmas. It’s Peruvian tradition to wear yellow clothes so I put on the yellow Peru shirt I got earlier that day when we bought fireworks downtown…because it just wouldn’t be a Peruvian holiday without them.
It’s a Peruvian custom to make a giant life size doll filled with fireworks to represent all the things that happened over the previous year you’d like to move past, take it out to the street at midnight, pour flammable liquids all over it, and light it on fire, making New Years my new favorite holiday. 

The final pre-torch touches.

The aftermath.

All our neighbors were also in the street burning their dolls and popping fireworks and greeting each other. Later we visited our friend Giancarlo’s house and hung out with his family. 

Us at G.C.´s house.

Fidea's real happy.

We spent New Years day hanging out at beach called Vesique, which reminded me a little of South Padre Island.

Us with some of our friends on the beach.

By the time we got home that evening I was exhausted, in a good way, and really happy.

            Everything was new and different which may be why I didn’t get as homesick as I thought I would. I had the highs, and the lows, but overall, it was a good holiday season. Thinking about my 2011 and all the awesome stuff that happened to me, all I can say is, “bring on 2012.” 

Dinner after the beach with Emily's brother Scott.