My Final Post

So we've been back in the US for a week.  I think that this post (forgive me), is going to be one part summary, one part random thoughts, and one part advice.

The Monday before we left (we left Urubamba Tuesday night, and Lima Wednesday night), we had our despedida (going away party).  It was nice to see the people we worked with (Ameriko, Jaime), and all of our host families in one place.  Since it was our last night, at dinner Chris and I gave our host mom two framed pictures of our host brother as our goodbye gift.  She kissed one of the pictures, so I think we did good.

Our final day in Urubamba, Tuesday, we finished at 711 by giving all the classes new soccer and volley pelotas, and played some games with them.  After that, we were told to stick around for a bit.  6B gave us a cute speech on how much they appreciate what we've for them, how we'll be in their hearts, and how they're giving us gifts so we can remember them.  Each of the classes gave us a gift - 6A gave us each a money holder/satchel bag (handmade!), 6B gave us one too, and 6C gave us a beautiful ceramic bowl made in Urubamba.  It was really, really touching.  Also, 6B gave us a song on the environment, and on colors too!  See below. (videos are a little large, maybe I'll youtube it).

Figure 1: Confetti

Figure 2: handmade satchel

Even though they gave us gifts, and showered us with confetti (I swear I'm still finding it in my things), you gotta wonder - did we really do that much to help them?  I would like to think that yes, Emily and I made a significant change in their lives, they'll become more responsible with the environment, and they'll be role models in that aspect.  But you know what? I sort of doubt it - Urubamba's just not really a friendly place to be environmentally friendly.   I guess with a project like this, it's hard to really measure the progress you've made.  With stoves, you can count the number of stoves you've made, and say, "wow, I did a good job by making 'X' stoves."  With education, you just gotta give them a push and hope for the best.  Yes, a goodbye party is nice, and it is nice to know that we mean a lot to them, but really (and I'm being blunt here), did they like us because we taught them environmental science and English (and they liked it?), or did they like us because we represented a time away from their normal teachers?  I know that this past paragraph was really cynical, and that we probably did make a significant change to some degree, but as community service goes, you have to question your actual impact sometimes.

That Tuesday afternoon, we said goodbye to our host family (our mom gave us hats!), and we took pictures/exchanged emails.

Left to Right: Augusto, Ana, and Andre

Onto happier things: re-entry into the states.  Here's a list of changes from Peru-life to USA-life that I've noticed.

• The US is so clean.  Modern sanitation (and the ability to flush TP down the toilet) is amazing.
• We can drink tap water. Makes life so much easier
• I miss speaking Spanish to store-owners and people in general
• The US (summer) is so green.
• Supermarkets just rock.
• The skies in Urubamba are just way bluer. No comparison to US skies.
• Dogs have leashes!
• Roads are wide and paved/Drivers are nicer
• Wifi is unbelievably fast
• Having internet 24/7 is a luxury that we don't really realize we have
• I miss mountains

Finally, for all the dukies, or travelers, planning to go to Peru in the future and have stumbled across this blog, I'll leave you with an unofficial packing list of what to bring, but you should check out the rest of this blog to know what to expect.

Bring:

• Warm clothes + layers.  Dress for maximum high of 70 F, minimum of 40 F
• Really warm clothes (if you're going hiking, prep for 20-25 degree F)
• Internal Frame Backpack if you plan on hiking
• Rain jacket/pants (just in case)
• warm hat/socks/gloves
• pack light, because you can always buy alpaca sweaters for cheap
• dSLR if you've got one - Peru's just way pretty.
• clothes to get dirty
• all toiletries (more expensive in Peru)
• quick dry towel
• for guys - ex-officios
• Medicine: Immodium, lots of pepto bismol, 2-3 rounds of Ciprofloxacin (literally a life saver), hand sanitizer, sunblock, aloe vera, band-aids, blister band-aids/moleskin/duct tape.
• Water treatment: a water filter (like MSR Miniworks EX), or treatment tablets would've been great. Parasites suck.
• A good sleeping bag.
• Headlamp
• Leatherman
• ziploc freezer bags
• 3 prong - 2 prong adaptor
• Education: scotch tape, markers, english-spanish teaching book (with pronunciations)

I'll add more if it comes to me, but that's mostly what you should bring if you go to Peru (in the cusco region at least).

That's all! Thanks for reading everyone.


Posted by David Chou

Respect and Reward

So this idea's been rattling in my head for a while (to all the teachers reading this blog, this goes out to you).

Respect in the classroom.

Now that we're coming to the end of our time in Peru, I feel like I can talk on the difficulties of teaching in Peru, and teaching in general.  In Peru, the children love: being competitive, and hitting each other.  With being competitive (in activities), we've just told them to calm down, and tried to be just.  With hitting each other, we tell them sternly to not do it, and tell their teacher if things get worse than a little hit.  From what I can tell, that's the only difference from American children. (oh, and they really love copying things from the board for some reason).  Now on teaching, sixth graders are sixth graders.  They're loud, don't want to pay attention sometimes, and can be difficult to teach sometimes.

Onto respect.  I feel like despite us spending so much time with them, we have yet to gain their full respect as teachers.  That feeling, my friends, is not a good one.  For example, we can't get the class to a full silence without the teacher there (attempts elicit laughter/mockery).  Maybe it's because we're too nice, or we're just too gringo for them to take us seriously.  While I feel like we succeeded in teaching them the material we wanted them to learn, which is great (some of them spontaneously broke out in "Head, shoulders, knees, and toes" Tuesday!!), I still kinda regret not fully gaining their respect like their teachers have.  Again, maybe it is because we don't yell enough (Peruvian teachers yell a lot), or because we can't really do much to punish them.  (the Spanish component might have something to do with it as well)  Either way, for all student teachers I've ever had, for all teachers that have had a difficult class/student, I completely understand, and am sorry.

The beautiful part of this, however, is that we can see how far they've progressed.  I think some of you know how good it feels to see when a lesson has gotten through. That's where reward comes in, and makes my qualms about respect irrelevant!  See, the best part about teaching (and volunteering), is getting something back in return for all the sweat and tears you put in.  I think in the end, that's what I'm going to let define my time here.  Because honestly, seeing my kids sing in English was pretty awesome.


Posted by David Chou

The New "Sad House"

For the Stoves group, we travel to Janahuara or Cotohuinchu every workday, divide ourselves into groups of three or four, and each team hikes to their respective house to (hopefully) complete a stove. Each group hopes that their house will hold all of the necessary materials, smooth, pebble-less mud, and a cooperative family. More than anything, each groups will hope that they are not working at a "sad house".

In my first four weeks here, I have heard of only two houses being given that title - one in which there was no wall to support the chimney, the other in which a family refused to hold up their end of the deal (mainly by providing workable mud) and had to be left alone until they could take the project seriously. Then today three other volunteers and I unwittingly entered a home that would win the title of "sad house" from all the others. 

 
There were two Duke volunteers and two new arrivals, who we were supposed to engage in on-the-spot training. Jaime, our boss, led us to a house where we were not immediately granted admission. We stood back as Jaime yelled through the thin wooden door in Quechua until we gained entrance. We walked in and were met by an old man leaning on a cane. One eye was white with blindness and the other I suspect had also failed, as it neither moved nor focused. He had a a small smile on his face as we delicately crept around him -at Jaime's request that we took extra special care not to bump into his frail figure. 

And then we were on our own.

 
Usually, the volunteers try to work alongside the stove recipient. My favorite stove was one in which the husband - who was perhaps younger than I - eagerly climbed onto the roof to cut the hole (usually one of our people has to do that) while we built the stove below. His wife found us whatever else we needed, and our breaks consisted of playing with their 6 month old baby in the yard. Yet this stove was vastly different. It wasn't that the recipient didn't help, it's that he couldn't. Our efforts to speak Spanish to him came to no avail, and I repeated the one phrase I knew in Quechua ("I am fine") over and over again throughout the morning so that he knew we weren't ignoring him. With difficulty we had to search out every material that usually is provided upon request and when we finally began we had to start not on the actual stove, but on building up the wall for the chimney with cumbersome and back breaking adobe bricks. This consisted of choosing a brick from the pile outside, and (with the help of a pick) separating it from its brothers. Then, haul it inside, hack away at it with the pick another time until it seems the right size, wet it, and finally hoist it up to another volunteer standing on the stove platform so they can use copious amounts of mud to stick it to the brick that lies underneath. The ground team and the platform team sweated equally, but the worst part came when we had to make more mud. As one of the new volunteers hacked away at the pile of dirt above the mud basin we heard a shout - "We've got ants!" 

Thinking it was merely a few stray insects I ignored the call and continued to work on the wall, only to see out of the corner of my eye the older gentleman ambling across the room. I called to him to ask him what he was doing, and thus found out that he was quite deaf. The commotion outside continued so I followed the man out the door and found that the ants were a bigger problem after all- our mud basin was built at the edge of an anthill that came up to my chest. At this moment our attention was drawn again to the man, who had been making his way to an outhouse that we had failed to notice, hidden 20 feet away behind foliage. His cane was slipping on the underbrush, and he was struggling over the brick that we had unknowingly left in his way. The only male volunteer in our group helped support him there, a service that the man gladly accepted. Meanwhile, we decided to saturate the basin with enough water that the ants would leave the mud, or drown. That worked, but when Jaime returned to check on our progress he found three of us sitting forlorn and spattered in the dirt around the water spigot, trying to tie down the handle which wouldn't close. The other volunteer was helping the elderly man back from the outhouse. Confused, Jaime attempted to stifle the pouring faucet, speak to the old man, and put us back in order before he left again. While we wrestled with the water a pair of chickens had descended on our buckets and the old man had settled himself in a chair facing us, and proceeded to watch our progress on his stove. 

Finally the proceedings became smoother, and although the work was still unusually difficult we settled into a rhythm. And I began to wonder about the old man. I wondered how he managed to live on this little farm, with no sight and limited mobility. I wondered if he was happy, when a trip to the bathroom took him the greater part of an hour. Later I found out that his wife was a good deal younger than him, and cared for her ailing husband. That made me wonder about the wife, and how her life differed from other women in that pueblo - was it consumed with caring for her husband, or was it less work or more joy than at seemed? What I was most curious about was why the old man was so content to watch us for a hour, although he could not understand us and probably could only barely make out our foreign forms. Yet he watched, with a hearty grin on his face: a look of pure joy.

Later, in Spanish class, I asked about the existence of elder homes in Peru. My teacher explained that they have them, but those that enter die quickly. Confused, I asked if this was a reflection of the quality- she responded that while the quality could be quite good, when a man like the one we had encountered has spent so long listening to the birds that chirp outside his home, or the river that runs through his land, or his wife chattering to him about whatever (whether he fully understands or not), moving him to a nursing home is a fatal mistake. Taken out of his habitat, he would die quickly. It was then that I realized why he sat their and smiled- even though he couldn't understand us, we were company. Even though he sat and watched us make a mess of his house, we were entertainment. He knew his life on the farm well, and slippery trek to the bathroom forgotten, he has comfortable and happy. 

But the aspect of the day that I wondered about the most was how he was when he was younger. Now, we saw him as old, blind, decrepit. All we knew of him were his ailments. But he could only have been this way for a few years. I wondered how his younger self would feel if he could foresee this moment- a bunch of foreign students entering into the home that he had carefully constructed, in which he had perhaps used his big smile and wit to land his much younger wife and subsequently provided for her so that when he fell ill she would have the means to maintain the house. I wonder how the younger, more virile version of this jovial grandfather would feel knowing that we saw him and constructed our judgments of the situation based on this version of him. That we never knew him in his youth. He no doubt spent many years toiling in the rocks of Ccotohuincho, coaching a life out of the arid desert. Yet we have no idea about THAT man, only the old one in front of us, picking his way across the floor. Ninety percent of his life has most likely been filled with labor, self-sufficiency, and perhaps passion. Yet we will never know of that side. I wondered how different the way we saw him was from how he sees himself. I know that when I am old and my health is failing I will still think of myself as the 20 year old who built stoves in Peru, as the adolescent who likes adventure. But how will others see me? Most likely as we see the man - weak and vulnerable. He is a shadow of the man he used to be, yet we can never know that other man for comparison. I very much wish I could know what this old man was like in his prime, and what would be his thoughts about his position today.

Posted by Brynne Sekerak

I guess we're doing something right?

So our wonderful Site Coordinator, Kate, came by 711 today to talk to the teachers about a field trip we're taking the kids on next week (we're taking them to the La Salle greenhouses!), and to observe us teaching.  She talked to the 6C teacher for a while, and told us that he said that the Duke volunteers coming to teach has been a really positive experience.  So much so, that he wants to try and work out something where Pro-World volunteers can come teach at 711 year-round!

That's really great to hear, and it's fantastic that we've made such a positive impression.  How cool is that?


Posted by David Chou

Election Day!

Sooo, word on the street (literally) is that Ollanta won the Presidential Elections (confirmed by BBC). Let's hope he doesn't end up like Chavez?

I guess either Keiko Fujimori's too young or her daddy left too much of a bad mark on Peru.

Most people I've ever seen in Urubamba (because they have to come to their original town to vote). People watching at it's greatest - such a grand variety of people here. Guards everywhere (one with an AK-47?) and just a ton of people. Street vendors are having a field day I guess.


Posted by David Chou

The 14 year old porter

In life, there are those who come and go, and those who make an indelible (and positive) impression. Most times, those in the latter are role models, or loved ones. Rarely does one encounter someone of the latter whom he’s met once in his life, especially when that someone is only a child.

This past weekend, during a grueling 2-day, 9-hour hike up to Glacier de Chicon (peak: 17,500ft), I met one of the most remarkable, yet unmistakably average, 14 year old boys ever. He was one of the five porters leading the group, all of whom were carrying our meals and water on their backs on a square sheet of cloth held together by a knot wrapped around their necks. While most of us gringos in our hiking boots and padded backpacks were panting for air, eagerly awaiting the next descanso to let our accumulating lactic acid disintegrate, these porters, in their sandals and 30 or so pounds of bulky things unstably hanging off their backs, were frolicking (ok maybe that’s a bit of a stretch) up the hill. And guess who was leading them all? Cristian, the 14 year old boy. Of course, this physical feat alone would not make him great. It’s what I saw in him throughout the course of the two days that prompted me to reflect.

Christian on the very left. (Photo by David Chou)

It’s indubitable that Cristian was going through a painful degree of physical stress, given his pace up the mountain. It may not have been to the extent of most others, but at our few breaks, he laid down his heavy bag and fell to the floor in exhaustion like the rest of us. But you wouldn’t even know he was tired because he was always smiling or cracking a joke. I can imagine what many other 14-year olds would do in such a situation as physically demanding as his, and laughing would not be one of them. He offered the four non-porters in the “fast” group (Busack, Bodner, Chou, Me) some nuts at a few stops, and led our group the whole way on the first day.

I really got a sense of his impressive sense of maturity the next morning. When I say I didn’t sleep the night before, I actually didn’t fall asleep a minute from 8 pm - 5 am, given the less than ideal tenting situation and lack of warmth in the 20 degree wind. It was torturous. I waited outside the tent from 3 am to 5 am, and at the sound of the fire starting up nearby, I joined the porters by the fireside. At my response to their inquiry of how I slept, Cristian offered me mate (tea), bread, and jelly, and encouraged me to come on the 2nd leg of the hike to the glacier, even if I were struggling. And again, even at 5am, when he was clearly cold and tired himself, he was cracking jokes, offering the other porters tea, and seeing if I were feeling better. I wouldn't be lying if I said I ended up going on the 2nd leg to not disappoint my boy.

By noon, I had taken an Advil from Jina and felt much better. I eventually joined Kach, Busack, Bodner and two porters for the return run-down through the woods, led by none other than our 14-year old. When we reached the base of the mountain, I gave all the goodies I had to the two porters whom were with us (some empanadas de carne y pollo, ketchup, and fruits), in an attempt to show our appreciation. Busack, in his generosity, gave his sweatshirt and sweet pocketknife to the other porter and Cristian, respectively, who took them with earnest gratitude. Maybe he saw the same admirable traits, and wanted to reward him. Anyway, looking back, I wish I could’ve given him something more substantial. It’s not everyday you come across a kid who subconsciously makes you reflect on maturity, attitude, and life.

Que un chico!


Posted by Jun John Yoo

How to Produce a Stool Sample

This is the story of my unfortunate trip to the medical clinic here in Urubamba. I had been having diarrhea for a few days, so Kate, our site director, went with me to get me checked out. The doctor decided that I should have some tests done, so we headed up to the lab where the technician asked me for a stool sample. It’s not every day that you’re asked to defecate on demand. She hands me a few tools, and I enter the bathroom. Outside the unusually thin door, I hear Kate and the lady chatting; I’m fairly sure that every one of my bowel movements will make it through the door with embarrassing clarity. I survey the tools that I have at my disposal: a clear container and a Popsicle stick. I try the container on for size and decide that it is much too small to warrant a direct transaction. That must be what the Popsicle stick is for! After finishing my business I employ the Popsicle stick to scoop a sizable stool sample into the container. I emerge victoriously and proudly hand my container of poo to the lady.


Posted by Dave Balthazar

Customs

This is mostly for Mom and Dad because they are planning a trip to Peru and there are some interesting customs you might not anticipate before coming. First and foremost, the standard greeting in Peru is a kiss on the cheek, generally the right cheek. It’s a bit of an acquired skill – awkward kisses and head bobs are bound to happen, although my helpful tip of right cheek (not given to me…) should eliminate some of those moments. This is only for new friends by the way – do not kiss employees of restaurants or people selling things. Pretty self-explanatory but you never know. Also, when you enter a room you need to greet EVERYONE in the room or it is considered rude. Even if there are 10 people in the room, it’s customary. Same with leaving – you say goodbye (adios, nos vemos, ciao…all are acceptable – tambien con un beso) to everybody. This applies to conversations in town and such too – even if you talk to someone for 30 seconds (NOT likely) you need to greet them and then give them a kiss again when you leave. Oh, por los hombres, it’s a handshake if between two men.

With food, lunch is the biggest meal of the day, followed by breakfast and then dinner which is usually pretty small. Lunch usually consists of a soup, a main course, some sort of side dish, frequently a dessert, and a drink after (not during). And you will hear "provecho" or "buen provecho" ALL the time - it basically means have a good meal but can also be used as a sort of goodbye, enjoy, have a nice time... It’s pretty normal to take a long drink after most meals like a mate (tea), hot milk, or sometimes coffee. Also, it is one hundred percent acceptable to begin eating once you are served, its considered kind of weird if you just sit there waiting (also, note: no conversation is really off-limits and the concept of political correctness doesn’t exist here – don’t take things offensively because they are not meant to be offensive at all [other note - physical appearance can become your nickname; if a Peruvian calls you chinita, gordita, flacita, lindita, etc...not meant to be offensive and is extremely common]). Although I’ve probably already made this clear, family relationships and relationships in general are extremely important to Peruvians, and honestly what is more deserving of importance? People make friends easily and maintain them for a long time, and its very common for people to stop by their friends’ houses or workplaces to chat and fill each other in. I really love this aspect of the culture - I have long felt that the people in your life are the most important parts of it, and it seems like I have landed in a place where everybody feels the same way. It’s really very wonderful.

Que más....transportation-wise most people walk everywhere because Urubamba is so small, but if you don't want to walk you can take a moto-taxi which is basically a motorized bicycle with a little cab attached on the back. You can even find some with decorations or weird things like blacklights in them - one of the local mototaxis is Batman-themed even. There are plenty of other little anomalies Americans might not immediately understand, but I think to try and explain them all would be a little absurd. In general, family is very important, odd little societal rules are not, and if you are ten minutes late to something, it’s not the end of the world.

La vida es buena.


Posted by Hannah Arnold

La Salle

Emily selling organic yogurt and manjar at the market

The environmental education volunteers teach at 711 on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. On Wednesdays and Fridays (market days in Urubamba), we work with La Salle, an organization that cultivates and sells organic fruits and vegetables (to Urubamba and some restaurants in Cuzco). Two of us work in the market in Urubamba, selling the fruits and veggies, while the other two work in the greenhouse, taking care of the plants (then we switch). The top man we work with is Ameriko, a 24 year old who's extremely knowledgable about everything that happens at LaSalle, and who's extremely cool to work with.

The market in Urubamba (on market days), is ginormous! It covers at least a block-wide radius, if not more, including a 3-story warehouse full with vendors. Apparently all the vendors come from the communities around Urubamba, to sell their products. All types of trinkets, grains, bread, fresh fruit/veggie/meat, etc. can be found here, and it's an experience to just walk around and see what everyone has. La Salle has a little space outside of the warehouse, and there, we sell what's ripe and ready. People come to the market at 7 for the freshest items, and the produce generally runs out by noon. Yesterday, Emily and I sold tomatoes ("¡uno cincuenta por kilo!" - 1.50 soles per kilo of tomatoes), and it was pretty cool. The gente would come, ask about the price, ask for a set price/weight, and we would help them. A custom here, is that if they're exactly at, say one kilo, then they want to "aumentame", or add some more (for free). This happens especially with the older women of Urubamba, and if they ask for it, you just give them a smaller, slightly damaged tomato for free. That's the market!

In the greenhouse, we do weeding around the plants and generally prepare the ground to grow really, really good organic fruits + veggies. (organic strawberries are Ah-mazing!) There are baby pigs, baby cows, regular/gigantic sized cows (only females to produce milk, they sell the males). La Salle produces organic: tomatoes, strawberries, lettuce, beets, peppers, milk, yogurt, cheese, etc. It's pretty cool!



Last week, Chris K and I had the pleasure of making liquid fertilizer. It consisted of: cow/chicken feces, fish/chicken heads, chicken guts, water, chicha (corn beer), yeast, corn bits, sugar - it gets to sit for three months and ferment!

Chris K. and Ameriko with the finished liquid fertilizer

Posted by David Chou

711 School

So after teaching all three classes for several weeks now, I think I can comment on how things are. All the students have a uniform, which consists of tan button down shirts with epaulets and matching tan pants (sometimes with a hat), and then a sweater if they're cold. All the students are super cute - upon walking into the school, we're immediately surrounded by students excited to see us (calling out "¡Profe!", short for profesor), and in some cases, I'm called "ProfeDavid." It's adorable :)

ProfeEmily with the 6th grade students

Emily and I are teaching 3 different 6th grade classes, the oldest in 711. What's interesting is how each of the 3 classes differ (mostly) based on the teacher. In 6A, the profesora is really strict, and the class is super quiet as a result. In 6B, the teacher is pretty chill and nice, and the class is really energetic and fun to teach. In 6C, the teacher seems good…but when when Emily and I taught his class for the first time, he kinda dipped out on us for all of the class, except for the first ten minutes. Read: Emily and I had to control one of the more inherently rowdy classes by ourselves (not that bad but still). Regardless of the class dynamic, I love teaching these kids, and I think that the remaining weeks are going to be excellent.   Apparently, the kids in C (who seem to be the most misbehaved kids per each grade) stay in C all throughout their elementary school career. Ex: 5C students go into 6C, so it's a never ending cycle of fostering bad behavior (of sorts).  I don't approve of it, but there's not much we can do in that regard.  In terms of getting their attention, the students love games where they get to compete (usually for points), and they love drawing.  Thus, we've been building these two activities into our lesson plans in different ways, and it helps us make sure that they're learning the material as well.


Posted by David Chou

Saqsaywaman

Before our group of 11 went off to Urumbamba we stayed in Cuzco (a larger city about an hour away from Urumbamba) with the 9 Cuzco volunteers and visited various ruins in the area, the most impressive being Saqsaywaman, which have been said to be anything from an Incan fortress to a temple, although the temple hypothesis has garnered the most evidence. From above, the ruins are zigzagged, a tribute to lightning.

Before we got to the ruins we happened upon a grizzled farmer and his pack of llamas, which he allowed us to photograph as he stood off to the side. We hiked through the ruins, many of us gasping for air at the smallest incline as we have yet to acclimate to the altitude. It wasn't until we reached the foot of the giant walls that we realized the magnitude of what the Incas had done... huge boulders that towered over the tallest in our group, each perfectly aligned with the next, each stone's protrusion snuggly set into another's indentation.






The day before the ruins we visited the enormous, alabaster Jesus that watches over Cuzco, his arms stretched wide as if embracing the city. At his feet vendors sold alpaca hats, dark stone miniatures of the statue, and Incan crosses. There was also a woman with a llama (possibly an alpaca, I have yet to gain enough experience with the two to tell the difference) who encouraged our group to take pictures with her. This has happened countless times in our week here- Peruvian women in traditional garb canvassing the plaza for gringos who want a culturally “authentic” picture, older women sitting perceptively next to ruins, spinning alpaca fur into yarn. What seemed at first to be a kind gesture towards foreigners revealed itself to be a practice in entrepreneurship- after a picture is taken the women will ask for money for their efforts.




However breathtaking any of the ruins or monuments, the view of the mountains as well as Cuzco nestled in the valley is indisputably the most beautiful part of the trip thus far.

Posted by Brynne Sekerak

Peruvian Politics

From what I've gleamed from my host family, the next few years of Peruvian politics will be a bit rough. The current president has done a good job, raising the country's economic state, but presidential terms only last 5 years, and the election is this June 5th. The two candidates are Keiko and Ollanta. Choosing between the both is described as choosing between the lesser of two evils (los dos son malo y malo). Keiko is the daughter of a past dictator of Peru, who is currently banished from the country. If elected, she has clearly said that she's going to let her father back into the country, so who knows. Ollanta is described as a Hugo Chavez-like character. Thus, no one in Peru really knows who to vote for, and unfortunately, voting is mandatory here. Elections are on June 5th, so we'll see how the country reacts.


Posted by David Chou

Customs (what to do in Peru)

Now that I've been in Peru for a few days, I feel like I can comment on a few customs here that differ from the US.

• In greetings, there are two different customs. When greeting guy to guy, you shake hands, as per usual. When greeting a woman, regardless of your gender, you kiss their right cheek. When entering a room full of people, it's customary to greet everyone in the room, otherwise it's rude. 
• In eating, if people are served before you, it's customary for them to start eating immediately, otherwise it's considered rude to the chef. 
• In using el baño, you have to put used toilet paper into the trashbin instead of the toilet - I don't think the septic system can handle it. 
• In speaking, Peruvians tend to use "cutesy Spanish" quite a bit. This means that they add an "-ito" or "-ita" to lots of words, which basically means little (word).  For instance, "perro" is dog, and "perrito" is little dog.  Usually meant in an affectionate manner.
• In habits, at least what I've experienced from my host family, if there's a situation in which you can't really do much, you kinda shrug your shoulders and say "oof-e" 
• In traffic customs, you do not get the right of way. If you get in the way of a car, the car will accelerate, instead of slowing down. Thus, crossing the streets in Cuzco is kind of like frogger - cross the streets when it's clear, and hope no one will clip you.

Posted by David Chou

Live from New York!

So here I am, sitting in JFK airport for eight whole hours, waiting to get onto a flight to Lima, Peru! I think all of us at JFK are all excited to see what's going to happen, and to just experience Peruvian life and culture! Personally, I'm a little nervous about the work we're going to do with ProPeru, and what the community's reception to us will be. As part of the environmental education group in Urubamba, I wonder if the community will accept the knowledge that we are trying to impart on them, or just reject it in favor of pre-existing customs. Regardless, I think that it's going to be a great experience, and from what I've heard, the community is pretty warm and accepting to Americans (I'm somewhat interested to see what the response to Asians will be). Since this is just a pre-Peru post, I'll keep it short, and in the future, I'll be focusing on my experiences with the culture, the people, and the food of Peru. I currently plan to photo-document just about everything I can, and there will be a slideshow going up on the site once I start taking pictures. For now, that's it! Peru in 10 hours.


Posted by David Chou