11 months in Peru!

August 11 we celebrated 11 months of living in Peru! Last month, July 22nd to be exact, marked 8 months of official service as a Peace Corps volunteer... which means that I am 1/3 of the way through! I realized that it’s been a while since I’ve really updated my blog, so I figured now was a good time to do so. It’s been a bit of a rough go here in Peru and I honestly just wasn’t feeling up to writing about it. I’ve been through some unusual trials that have made all the typical challenges of adjusting to this different and more difficult lifestyle that much harder.

The typical adjustments of surviving 6 months of rain, ankle deep mud, mold growing on everything (shoes, clothes, etc), and gloomy days with little to do, acceptance of the food (boiled green bananas, anyone?), the dirt, the lack of running water after 5pm, the chickens in the house and on the bus, and everything that a parallel universe can throw at you, in a foreign language is tough.

Then starting it all off with several traumatic experiences made this adjustment process especially hard. I’m sure most of you know by now of my getting robbed at gunpoint by a taxi driver in October (meaning that I didn’t just get my camera pickpocketed as I wrote on my blog when it happened), a battle with giardia, and the attack of the pack of dogs in March. So I guess I survived more than just the rain. It was almost enough to make me give up. In March and April I was struggling with making a decision of whether or not to leave. But after a brief trip to the good old USA (sorry to everyone I didn’t get to see), and if I may speak candidly (which I can because it is my blog), I also stopped taking my Yasmin (birth control pills) in April. I believe it was making me depressed. I share this personal info because I think anyone, stranger or friend or future PCV, who reads this, should be aware that a person’s hormones, especially when affected by medicine, can really distort their perspective and make coping with already difficult things twice as hard.

This combination of changes allowed me to reevaluate and see things in a new light. I realized that I am proud to be a PCV, as I got to share my experience with people back home. When I came back and saw friends in Lima I realized that I have a community here, too. I have friends who love me, a community of people who are going through exactly what I am going through, and people who “get” me in a unique way. It felt pretty special to be part of a group like that. And a community with the Peruvians I live and work with. I realized I am doing what I wanted to do and will look back be able to live without regrets or wondering what if.

Poco a poco is a common phrase used for just about everything here in Peru, especially when talking about getting accustomed. It means “little by little”, which is exactly how it goes here.

Alright, now on to the latest goings on...

We got the KIDS to KIDS GRANT!!!

Part of what makes adjusting difficult is the inability to start real projects right away. This leads to a lack of sense of purpose the first few months. However, thanks to all of you who voted for our Kids to Kids project, we received a grant to do a water project in the schools. This grant will allow us to provide 5 gallon buckets, fitted with taps, in each classroom as well as a water testing kit and household bleach. The students will learn how to measure the chlorine content of the water with the tester and then add the required amount of bleach per liter to purify the water. This will provide them with at least one safe drinking water source throughout the day. The students will also be educated on other treatment techniques, such as UV (sun) treatment and boiling, as well as hygiene and hand washing.

We are really excited to get this going and help reduce the hundreds of cases of parasites, diarrhea and malnutrition in our community!

Thanks everyone for supporting us!!!

Travel Party!

A secondary project we are excited about is our computer class with the elementary students. Every Wedsnesday, they are so excited to come to the computer lab and work with us. I adore the kids and they always give me hugs when they see me. As an incentive to behave in class, I came up with a reward system that is fun and educational, too. If they maintain 20 points every class for 3 weeks, we will have a travel party on the 4th week.

Many children here have little to no knowledge of geography or other cultures. Many don’t even know where Peru is on a map. So, I made little passports, took their photos and drew a map on a big piece of paper. The kids are so excited about it. They will get their passport stamped by us, will show them pictures and videos of the country of their choice, including music, sports and foods to expand their horizons a little, and have snacks/treats. We started with South America. Each class chose a country: Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay. Should be fun!

Next step will be to paint a world map on a wall in the community for everyone to see! This large-scale map is a Peace Corps project that volunteers all over the world do. We recently asked for help with supplies from the mayor and he said yes! Little by little we are moving forward!

ANOTHER SMALL SUCCESS

You have to celebrate the progress you make, no matter how small it is.

For months now, there has been a large cement-lined hole in front of my house that is supposedly part of the sewer/ drainage system. However, it never seemed to drain very well. It fills with rain, trash and even animals when they fall in! Not to mention the sudden mosquito infestation due to standing water.

Recently, Chris and I were invited to a spontaneous meeting with the mayor and other important community members. I don’t think we were supposed to be there, but we got to say our piece. I mentioned the health hazard (possible malaria and dengue from mosquitos). He got slightly defensive and told us the tops were coming from the city. Well, we’ve heard that before about other things, and I didn’t take his word for it.. However, 2 weeks later they were topped! Like I said, it’s the little things.

TRIP TO AMAZONAS

I recently went on a trip to a town called Chachapoys to visitthe ruins of Kuelap. This is an ancient fortress where the nobility of Chachapoyas people would hide during times of invasion or other threats. However, the Incas were able to draw them out by cutting off their water and food supply and conquer them. It was a gorgeous location.

GOCTA: 3rd tallest in the world!!

Drinking pure water!

On this trip we also hiked to the 3rd largest waterfall in the world! Incredible! Imagine being able to dip your hands into the clear, cold pool of liquid in all of its natural splendor, sip the crisp clean nectar falling from the heights above as you slowly comprehend and appreciate the awesomeness of taking in the most pure substance of your life; one without chemicals, man-made treatments or the fear of parasites and illness. It was beautiful!

Lord Sipan

There is so much history to be seen in Peru. The museum of Lord Sipan, King of the Mochica people, was another great stop on this trip. Gold plated copper jewelry covered in turquoise, and thousands of artifacts were found at the site of these ruins.

This is a huge earring he wore with his image on it. What Lord Sipan would have looked like in all his jewels.

MOVING UP TO SOPHOMORE STATUS

Now that we have come this far in our service, it is time for those who have come before us to move on. The group that I came in with is called Peru 14, because we are the 14th group of PCVs to come to Peru since 2001. This August the group of Peru 11 will complete their service. Seeing them come to the close of their service was bitter sweet and exciting. Knowing that they had accomplished their goal, wit successes and failures gave me encouragement and inspiration, knowing that I will be there one day, too.

Not to mention we had a sweet going-away party for them, too.

And we got to meet some of the trainees from Peru 15.

Woo-hoo! We’re not the rookies anymore!!

The toughest job you'll ever love - as I see it

The toughest job you’ll ever love.

This is the motto of the Peace Corps.

And I think I am beginning to understand why.

It’s not necessarily the “job” that is tough. We actually have a pretty sweet schedule. It is not a typical 9 to 5, with rush hour and the rat race. Sometimes, it doesn’t even feel like a job, in the traditional sense. Depending on what’s happening in town you can usually set the times of your meetings, events, and projects. In addition to a rather flexible schedule, “La Hora Peruana” (The Peruvian Hour) allows for even more flexibility as it is culturally acceptable to arrive at a meeting an hour and a half late because that is actually the time it will start. The work itself is not terribly complex either. Teaching healthy hygiene and nutritional habits are almost second nature. Building improved stoves and latrines is more demanding, but not very complicated. Working with children is pretty involved, but it is also fun. Whatever work it may be, to me it has been more stress-free than most jobs I’ve had in the US.

Ironically, though, what can make this work tough is exactly the stress-free characteristic of it all. Figuring out how to initiate and complete the work, in itself, is a challenge. Deciding where funding will come from and acquiring it is another. Discovering ways to inspire and motivate those you work with and collaborate with them is an ongoing campaign. Yet, probably the biggest contender at battle here is the aforementioned “Hora Peruana”. While flexible, this casual attitude toward punctuality can try your patience, as meetings start and end late, and leave you frustrated, when only a few, or sometimes none, of the people show up. It is a barrier, in a lot of ways, to the realization of said “simple” projects. Therefore, the work of a PCV, while often simple, is not always easy.

However, the really tough part is the lifestyle. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is not a 40 hour a week job; it is a 24 hour a day job. A Peace Corps Volunteer’s job is their life; their life in the city, town, or village. Adjusting to a different way of living and becoming an accepted member of the community in order to successfully complete projects, is at the core of the work. Living in a place where there are so many human similarities, yet so many cultural differences can feel like a parallel universe. Learning to adapt to things, as an American, you probably never imagined living with or living without all the while trying to navigate through this new world while speaking, quite brokenly, another language creates a whole new type of stress.

There is a lot of surrender and acceptance involved to do this successfully. Surrender of your own cultural perspectives and expectations of “how things should be” and learning the reality of how things really are. Relinquishment of a level of independence that a typical young American is accustomed to, in order to successfully integrate into a host family and community and avoid violating (too many) cultural norms and gender roles. Acceptance of eating unusual foods, lack of variety, changes in routine, not having all the creature comforts of hot water, or for that matter even running water; lack of dependable electricity, living with dirt floors, getting used to chickens walking through your house, the rooster waking you up at 4am, rainy seasons full of mud and mold on everything, cloudy days, isolated locations, and lack of phone and internet access. Changing your frame of reference to try to understand verbal and non-verbal expressions and conversations to avoid causing misunderstandings which, when they do occur must be resolved diplomatically. For some, this adjustment may come quickly but for others it is a long process which can lead to doubts and uncertainties in one’s own purpose for being a PCV.

Nevertheless, there comes the part of which you love. The part that you end up loving is the people in your village that you live and work with. The memories you take with you of the children who yell your name from across the street and run up to give you hugs, the family who loves you like their own, and the people you taught something to and learned something from. The part you love is your fellow volunteers, who “get” you in a way that no one else ever will. The feeling of community shared with strangers who have suddenly become more than a group of friends, but almost like a family. People with who you may not always stay in contact with afterward, but will forever be bonded to because of the experiences you have shared while living very different, yet very comparable, lives for 2 years. The part you love is the person you grow into because of what you’ve done and where you’ve been. Additionally, there is a love and appreciation that develops for where you came from and for who and what you left back home.

The PC is almost like a test of your character. This, if you let it, will build you up and make you a stronger, more insightful, patient, and even different person. Just as any experience can influence who you are and who you become, the Peace Corps, whether you stay for a day or for 2 years, does so in a very profound way: by exposing yourself to who you are, and showing that “self” just who you can become. This, as I see it, is the toughest job that you will ever love.

The Queen of Carnival attacked by dogs

This coming Thursday will be exactly 6 months since coming to Peru. Which means I am officially a Peruvian resident! I even have a residency card to prove it!

A lot of things, both good and bad have happened. It is not always easy, but I'm glad to be here. And, like many have said already, I will definitely be a stronger person for living these experiences.

DOG ATTACK

This is a Peruvian hairless dog. They are really ugly. And I got attacked by 8 of them yesterday. We stayed at this eccentric hostel on the beach this weekend for a meeting and the owner has about 10 of these, in Doberman-pincer size. Yesterday morning, as I reached the main part of the hostel on a walk from our cabin that was off set from the main area, the entire pack of dogs saw me from about 50 yards away and broke into a dead sprint, barking, snarling, growling and snapping. I ran forward to grab a big stick I saw lying on the ground, but they were too fast. I knew that if I reached down for the stick, they would connect with me there and surely attack my face. I stood, and with only my sandals in hand, and as they formed a circle around me, I swung and yelled and defended myself as best I could. The snapping, barking, jumping circle of dogs backed down for a brief second and I thought I had scared them enough to stop, but then from behind another jumped and another scratched, the other's barked, and one bit me. On my butt. (Lucky for me, I've got a little extra padding now from all the rice we eat!) But, after that bite I was afraid, for a minute, that they were going to take me down and tear me to pieces. I was really scared. The owner heard me screaming and came running. Fortunately he was able to shoo them off.

All these dogs have their vaccinations and shots. The owner gave me stuff to clean the wounds, which, thank God, were only superficial. And he compensated our room and food. But it sure was frightening and unfortunate because there are no laws regarding dogs here. In the states I could sue him and have his entire estate, surely. But this is Peru. And nothing works here like it does back home.

They say what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. That overcoming suffering produces exponential growth. Well, at the rate I'm going, surely I will be Super-woman once I'm done in Peru. Right now I feel like I'd rather not, that I would just like to be a happy, carefree, PCV. But I guess God has other things in store for me. I do believe that at the least he has kept me safe, because things could've been much worse.

QUEEN FOR A DAY

Our town celebrates Carnival, which is like Mardi Gras but very different. February 14th was the day we celebrated and there were 2 Queens already elected with rumors of a 3rd. I had no idea who it would be and wasn't too interested. On the morning of, I went to the health center to help decorate the truck to make the float. When I arrived they asked me why I was not dressed, where my dress was? I was slightly confused, especially among all the excitement and it all happening in Spanish. Eventually, they told me that I was the 3rd queen of carnival! So, I ran home and got ready. It was really fun. I did have to make a speech (ugh!) but we danced all afternoon and had a blast.

TRADITIONS OF CARNIVAL

The day before carnival, the men decided to break a hole in the cement in the plaza to put up this "branch". Well, it's as big as a regular tree, and didn't make much sense to us that they were trying to lift it themselves. Finally they brought the truck around to help and Chris and I offered our assistance, still not believing they would be able to stand it up. but sure enough, they got that thing up after several tries and kept it in place with rocks and sticks. The tradition is to decorate it with bottles, bowls, food, etc and after each dance people take a swing at with an ax. The person who fells the tree is in charge of throwing the party next year. I obviously didn't swing very hard when it was my turn to chop, as I'm not interested in hosting the next party.

...THEN THE POWDER STARTED FLYING...

The other tradition of Carnival is to throw powder on each other. In some cities they throw water. In others it is paint, water, and really anything you can find. Luckily, we just throw powder (or more like rub/slap it in eachothers faces) but it gets pretty brutal. I even lost a contact lens! It's so funny...we get all dressed up and pretty, just to end up looking like this, with dough forming in our hair, elbows, and clothes! But it sure was fun!

GIARDIA...is not fun

So I got pretty sick about a week or two ago and called the PC doctor. She thought I probably had giardia, which is a parasite that comes from the water. But according to one witty friend of mine, the definition of giardia is this: When the world falls out of your bottom and the bottom falls out of your world. I would say that's pretty accurate! and I'd like to add, that it feels like someone lit your insides on fire turning everything to liquid then decides to wring it all out like a wet, old rag! How pleasant! Not sure how I got it, I boil all my drinking water...it could have been from a mango I had washed off and not thoroughly dried. Who knows.

THANK GOD FOR THE COMBI (aka the bus)!!!

To combat this dreaded parasite, my doctor (in Lima) called the coordinator (in Piura) who bought the medicine I needed, dropped it off with the driver at the bus station, who brought it up the 7 hr bus trip to the house with the community phone (Sicchez) so I could pick it up in the afternoon. Wow! What a process...but that's how things work here. Thank God for the bus, or I would have been suffering a lot longer.

This is the combi...the bus that we take up from the city to our town, for 7hrs, with chickens, turkeys and one time, even a hawk.

I helped make the cake for my little host sister's 10th birthday! About 40 kids came, boys and girls, all who were forced to dance with each other. You could tell they were thinking...Eww...cooties!

When political campaigns start people paint their houses with the names of the candidates and their parties to show their support.

Octavio is the current mayor and seems to be doing a pretty good job.

The INFINITE USES OF DUCK TAPE (or duct tape?)

A few weeks ago I saw a giant spider outside my room and tried to smash it with a shoe. I missed. and he got away. So I was hoping never to see him again, but about 3 nights ago, he came back for revenge.

I walked into my room, closed the door, and there he was! just sitting on the other side of the door...waiting for me! So this time, I grabbed a shoe and knew I couldn't miss. I smashed him in one foul swoop! But then had to figure out what to do because he had come in through the gap between the wall and the door. What to use???? bags??? my mosquito net???

DUCK TAPE!!! Thank God one of my friends had sent it. It was perfect. So as you see, I have the edges taped and bags stuffed in the top. Hopefully, it keeps the bugs out.

This is me, working in the garden at the health center. We are trying to clear out all the overgrowth and weeds. Pretty big job.

And me doing my Indiana Jones thing, as one of my beloved family members put it.

My shirt says "Peace Corps, 14, Always available" The back of the shirt has a llama that says "llama me" which means "call me". It's a funny play on words designed by another volunteer. However, I try not to wear it in public much. Don't want to advertise that. lol!!

The 14 means that we are the 14th Peace Corps group to come to Peru since 2001 since we were re-invited back after a 20 year absence due to the terrorism and political strife of the 80''s and 90's

Got some wonderful letters and care packages again....thank you so much everyone!!!! Sending you all lots of love and hugs from Peru!

So, where do I begin?

They say the first 3 months are the hardest. Especially for those of us who live in the Sierra. Not only do we arrive in site right before the 3 major holidays of Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years (and for me, birthday), but then, just as you are getting over the home(sick) for the holidays feeling…it rains. It just rains…and rains….and RAINS!!! Until April. Dreary, muddy, and yucky for 3 months, which does not provoke much desire to leave the house. But if you do, you have to use big rubber golashes because the mud is so bad. It gets all over your shoes, your clothes, your house, everything. But it’s no use to wash your muddy clothes, because they don’t dry for 3 days, due to the amount of rain and mist in the air and the fact that we don’t have washers and dryers. And when they finally do dry, they smell funky and you have to rewash to get rid of the smell. I already found black mold on a shirt and some socks that were in my dirty clothes bag for a few days.

Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

Not to mention, you rarely feel like showering because you are already wet and it’s cold…and the shower is outside. And, to top off this tropical winter wonderland, our adobe house has no heating system. Luckily, when we take our regular trip into the big city, we can wash clothes there and take hot showers, indoors. So, while the rest of Peru is enjoying a beautiful, albeit hot, summer, we Serranos get to endure this character building, patience trying, see-how-long-it-takes-to-lower-your-expectations-of-cleanliness, grand life experience of winter on the east side of the mountains. I’m not complaining; just stating the facts. On the positive side, if we didn’t have the rainy season, we wouldn’t have the beautiful, tropical mountains and the delicious fruit the rest of the year.

CHRISTMAS

Let’s just put it this way. I will be in the US for Christmas next year.

Christmas here was just a real disappointment. I don’t believe it’s like this in all parts of Peru, but in my town people just don’t get into it. I think I heard 2 Christmas songs the whole month, the only decorations were the ones in the health center and no one says Feliz Navidad until midnight on the 24^th, and that’s it. The tradition is to eat dinner at midnight (which, thankfully, we ate at 9pm instead). We ate, watched a tv show that counted down the last 10 seconds to midnight (the way we do for New Years) then, sitting around the table, just looked at each other and said “Feliz Navidad”. Gave each other a hug, drank some hot chocolate and ate cake and that was it.

The problem was that by this time of night the kids and half the adults were exhausted and already sleeping. No childish excitement to feed off of, nor the whole family to share in wishing each other Merry Christmas. And no gifts. I didn’t expect any, but I was the only person who gave my family any gifts. They got excited about that and it was nice. I felt like Santa. I thought about that, wondering if part of the lack of excitement was due to poverty. No sense in looking forward to Christmas if you aren’t receiving anything, right? Christmas is about the birth of Christ, which they do put way more emphasis on here (after all, baby Jesus is born on midnight of the 24^th) which I think is good. But for one, they weren’t even all that excited about the birth of a Savior. Two, when several families here have satellite TV, radios, cell phones and we just remodeled our kitchen with a new sink, new stove, cement floor and beautiful red tiling on the counters…I think they can afford to give the kids a little something to open on Christmas.

So, I realized, it’s just tradition. What hurt the most was the next morning, the 25^th. I knew it would be different than back home, nothing exciting. But it really broke my heart when I woke up, walked into the kitchen, said “Feliz Navidad” to the family and they just stared at me blankly, like I was out of my mind, and finally responded with, “are you ready to eat breakfast?”. That was it. Christmas was done, over with and forgotten. Just like that.

I know we complain about the hustle and bustle of the holidays, the commercialism and greed. But there’s something in all that craziness occurring back home that sets it apart from the rest of the year. And there are moments in between, like when the clerk at Target wishes you a Merry Christmas as you leave and the Salvation Army guy is outside in his red hat ringing the bell; the screaming crowds of children waiting for their photo-op with Santa, the anticipation for the morning of the 25^th, the planning, the gift wrapping, gift giving, sharing time with family and friends, that makes up the Christmas season. Santa Claus, wreaths, lights, stockings, the songs, movies, decorations, the nutcracker, the Grinch, the Christmas plays and pageants, even the silly sweaters people wear with Rudolph or snowmen help make Christmas special. I just missed the Christmas spirit and the magic of it all. If you’re reading this back home, don’t take Christmas for granted.

FUN TIMES…NEW YEAR’S AND BIRTHDAY!

This turned out to be fun! Granted, no one actually said “Happy birthday” to me, except one little cousin, but my host family made a real effort to make a nice dinner, invited a lot of people over then we danced all night long. I also made a chocolate cake with frosting, which they had never had. I received several phone calls from family and friends, and several packages, too. I appreciated that so much, you have no idea! Thanks, everyone!,

Some family (on the right) and friends at the house for the party

THE SUGAR CANE PLANT and making TAFFY

So my town has this new plant for making cane syrup and sugar. It’s pretty amazing. They cut down the cane, bring it up on donkeys, feed it into a machine outside that takes off the husk and the juice goes down this tube into the building, passes through 4 bins to catch any particles, then it boils in 5 different bins to the right consistency to crystallize into sugar. We got to make taffy one night from it, with our bare hands! Unfortunately, it crystallized the next day and all we had were sugar lumps. Oh well!

THE CHAKRA

A chakra is a big garden here. Actually, I went with my older host sister and it turned out to be a jungle. Giant banana trees that she whacked down with one swipe of her machete! Impressive. Orange trees, Avocado, mango and papaya trees everywhere. It was so amazing to eat fresh fruit right from the plant!

I really admire the women here. They work really hard and are really strong. The sister in law came with us to the chakra and just hoped up a giant avocado tree, knocking all the fruit off with a 20 ft bamboo pole. My host sister scurried up to the top of an orange tree like a 5 year old boy. Keep in mind these women are 40 and 50 years old!!!! Then we hiked home, up and up, like pack mules with pounds of fruit on our backs. It was exhausting but totally worth it!

I didn’t bring my camera to the chakra, but got a good photo of my mean bug bites afterward!

The women I live with are also strong for other reasons. An elderly mother and her 2 middle aged daughters raising the 10 year old granddaughter and running their household with confidence and authority after the abandonment of the husbands, death of the grandfather, and loss of a baby. They make a living on their own by cooking for people in town, selling what they knit and sew, and the good fortune of the chakra. (Appearantly having trouble with the blog and the underlining I can't get rid of).

THE PIG (aka: the Chancha)

They slaughtered our pig the other day. Her name was Norma. It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard in my life. I already don’t eat pork here, because of the potential diseases, but after hearing her scream and whine the way she did, at 5:30 in the morning, I don’t know if I ever will be able to eat it again. Grocery stores and cellophane keep us immune to the process. If you’ve never heard your food scream…hearing it scream for fear of death, for the panic it feels upon realizing that it can’t escape, and for the pain it endures, begging for its life like a helpless child, you can easily go on eating it in blissful ignorance. But once you hear it squeal for its life, pleading to be spared, and whimpering for mercy in those last moments…it’s different. I sometimes still hear her screaming and whining, ringing in my ears. It happened right outside my room, in which I stayed, with my fingers plugging my ears, afraid to come out and see. When I finally did come out, she was still sort of alive, still breathing and whimpering as they drained the blood from her neck. Unbelievable.

From that one experience, I could easily make a case for vegetarianism for myself. But I can’t deny that I do eat other meat, and I like it. Not pork anymore, (and I did try! The other night in the city; pizza with ham on it…but I just couldn’t do it!) but other meat…so it makes me think about my choices and whether or not the other animals suffer like that. The main problem is that she suffered so long. For 30 minutes, crying, whimpering, and screaming. If you’re going to do it, if meat really is that necessary, at least make it as quick and painless as possible. So, at mealtimes, my family serves me eggs instead of pork.

WORK

I’ve done some talks (aka: charlas in Spanish) at the health center. This is me demonstrating how to wash your hands using a water bottle. This is great for the night time when we don’t have running water

These are my 8^th graders…my English class. I promised them a little reward if they had good behavior, so I baked a cake (of course!) It was Marble cake, yellow cake with chocolate swirled in. They loved it! Since it was right before Christmas they were already planning on doing a chocolatada, which is where they make a giant pot of hot chocolate (mostly turns out like watered-down milk with a couple chocolate bars melted in), so they brought this huge pot and cooked the hot chocolate over a fire.

I’ve also started doing house visits to the outlying neighborhoods (aka 1-2 hr walk away) to find out what their needs are. Mostly, they want the improved adobe stoves that have chimneys. The idea is to reduce respiratory infections. It is interesting, because it seems like a lot of people have knowledge about hygiene, eating vegetables, boiling drinking water, etc., they just don’t practice it. I am thinking that some propaganda on the radio or the community speakers would be a great way to remind people of these things and influence a change in habits.

TAKING A BREAK IN THE CITY

Luckily we went to the city, got some sun, good food, and got to see other volunteers. We saw the movie Sherlock Holmes, in ENGLISH!, which I definitely recommend! I bought some lovely perfume, for those in-between-showers days, AND, in the grocery store, I found anti-mold spray…! How great is that?? I also got some fantastic packages and cards in the mail! Thank you everyone!!! Going to the hot city is a reminder that in just a few months we will have summer, too!

It really is pretty, above the clouds!!!