A sampling of Lima Events aka Sorry I'm behind!!

I once saw an old man with a walker wearing a shirt that said, "100% Natural, Sin Cirugía." I imagine that shirt is meant to be worn by a woman with a large chest to try and disprove rumours of her having plastic surgery, but it's so much funnier when an old man wears it. :)

Graffiti in Peru usually seems to be kind and say things like "Te Amo Natalie," but lately I've seen some really interesting graffiti in Lima. Examples:

Ollanta = Perro

Ollanta = Chavez

Ollanta = Dictador

5 de Abril, Dictadura nunca jamas (Referring to Fujimori's coup d'etat in

1992...meaning that they should never elect another Fujimori to the presidency)

Last Thursday Rachel, Olivia and I saw a movie (my first in a Peruvian cinema), Felinos de Africa. It was about Lions and Cheetahs. So good! We enjoyed it thoroughly.

Everything was closed during Semana Santa boooo

I went to Pinkberry for the first time because there is one in Parque Kennedy - So good!

Last week Rachel, Olivia, Kia, and I returned to the awesome menu place for lunch from the first time we went to Lima. Excellent food, as always. We all have realized how much we miss eating Peruvian food.

Why I'm Like an Old Man

4/25-29/11

Because I’m sore! So sore!! Getting up the stairs to my bedroom is such a struggle. (Whenever I hear that word now I hear Bradley’s voice in my mind saying “Struggles!”) Today is Friday, April 29^th and I am sooo sore. On Wednesday I went to Escuela Pitbull with Rachel and learned some MMA submissions and takedowns with her from Hector Ibañez, aka the man with a bandage covering half of his face. I haven’t written for far too long, so let me write about this week in a bit of detail.

Monday, the 25^th, I met with Jacqueline. I’d met with Sonia on Saturday and pondered my project on Sunday, deciding to basically rearrange my topic again and focus specifically on Uchuraccay, the killing of 8 journalists by comuneros in Ayacucho January 26^th, 1983. After meeting with Ricardo Caro I had narrowed my topic down to four events, but I just couldn’t get interested in the other three. Uchuraccay really intrigued me because it’s so controversial (still! Lots of conspiracy theories) and first brought the terrorist violence into the national consciousness. She seemed to really support this idea and gave me some good ideas and advice. I finally feel on track! When I got home I typed up some ideas and to do lists, then called Gustavo Gorriti about a potential interview. Last week Jacqueline gave me his email and he’s responded on Friday that I should contact him at the beginning of the week. I’d expected to go about things leisurely and get myself organized, but when I called at noon, he responded very professionally and a bit brusquely that I should come to his office in San Borja at 1:30!! I flipped out. My stomache was doing flip-flops and I was literally so nervous that I shook, but I almost immediately flew out of the apartment, grabbed a very nice cab, and sat outside in the park next to the address and organized myself, compiling interview questions. I didn’t feel prepared at all. I called Jacqueline in a bit of a panic, but she didn’t answer. Oh well, I figured it out. At 1:30 I approached the guard (man, there are so many guards in Peru, and Latin America. I feel like it’s much more of a career path here than it is in the US), told him I had an appointment with Gustavo Gorriti, and waited in the waiting room.

Allow me to explain who Gustavo Gorriti is. He is a famous Peruvian journalist for Caretas, and he was in the town next door to Uchuraccay, Huaychao, literally the day that those 8 journalists were killed in 1983. He was publically attacked, along with the photographer Oscar Medrano and the writer who recently won the Nobel Prize and headed a commission to investigate Uchuraccay, Mario Vargas Llosa. He was attacked by the press, which thought that he was behind a cover up scandal to blame the comuneros. The media speculated that a special division of the armed forces called the Sinchis had dressed up as comuneros and, in fact, killed the reporters. All this speculation was later dismissed as untrue. All of the articles that I’d been reading about the event, and the book I’d referred to, were all written by Gustavo Gorriti. I was a bit starstruck and terrified all at the same time. He, however, was really helpful and very nice. He joked with me, asked me why I hadn’t brought an apple for my teacher (Jacqueline works for him and was in the room next door), told me he’d been to Santa Fe after I told him that I was from New Mexico, and asked me if I was a part of “The Tribe.” Yes, based on my last name he assumed I was Jewish, so I just went with it. For some reason he also wanted to know the name of my temple in New Mexico, so despite the fact that I do not actually have a temple, I just named Temple Albert. He’ll never know. I recorded a 26 minute interview, thanked him profusely, and then headed home feeling super proud of myself. The week was off to a good start!

Tuesday was a really excellent day. Actually, this whole week has been pretty great, but I’ll get to that in a little bit. On Tuesday I went to the archives of El Comercio, an old and conservative newspaper located in the center of Lima. I had to call ahead, get permission, and make an appointment to go there, but I finally made it! These archives are much more like what I had imagined Caretas would be like. A man, the director of the archives I suppose, set me up in glass walled room. He’d run back into a restricted area and fetch the articles I needed, then oversee me reading them. I was by no means alone in there! It was a bit distracting to have a chatty Peruvian lady sitting next to me, but I finally made some progress! I think I got what I need and finally was able to photocopy. Photocopies! Oy. Copies are generally 10-50 cents, with 50 being at the high end of the spectrum. El Comercio, however, wanted to charge me 2 soles and 62 cents!! That’s absurd. So I had to pick and choose what I wanted to copy, and I ended up with 14 pages. When I was ready to go the man, with his overly magnifying eyeglasses that made his eyes look a bit like Professor Trelawney’s (you know the reference), beckoned me into an empty side hallway so that I might pay him. I followed him and questioned him where I needed to go pay and he just told me, “Here, you pay me. Right here.” He gave me a break and only made me pay him 20 soles instead of 36, but it still felt really sketchy to hand over 20 soles to a strange man in a deserted hallway of this prestigious newspaper. So odd.

After that I made my way to the Defensoría del Pueblo to see if they might have archived copies of La República, another newspaper that I’m looking into for my paper. Oy, these archives are so disorganized. Caretas, El Comercio, and the Defensoría del Pueblo all just handed me disorganized folders with browned and torn pages spilling out. The more annoying thing is that these pages nearly never have the author or date on them, so I’m not even sure I can use them in my paper. School has taught me that you can never ever use sources that you cannot cite. Annoying! Especially because I found a perfect map to use for my eventual powerpoint presentation but I don’t even know what the source is. Stupid! El Comercio handed me a folder with articles, most of which weren’t even from El Comercio, and La Defensoría del Pueblo handed me a similar folder. La Defensoría del Pueblo didn’t have many articles from La República, but I did find 3-4 articles from January 30 and 31^st, 1983. Useful dates! I bought some yummy plantain chips and sat outside snacking when a lady and her daughter came by offering candies. This is often what beggars in Lima and Cusco do. Rather than simply sit and beg for money, they buy a large bag of candies and up the price, offering a candy for 10 cents. She had the particularly yummy lemony candies, so I bought a handful. It’s not much help, but I feel guilty about how it’s become ok for me to ignore women like her on the street. I often don’t have change and they are so ubiquitous. I remember Jason in Nicaragua telling us not to give to people like this because our few cents don’t help them much, it just encourages them to keep begging rather than doing something with their lives. Begging, especially in places like Cusco and Iquitos, is more frequently done by small children because they get more sympathy, especially from tourists. Though those kids get money for their family, they miss out on the education they should be getting.

In the afternoon Rachel and I had quite the adventure trying to get to the IEP, Instituto de Estudios Peruanos, in Jesús María. I love that area! I wish that I’d gone earlier! Miraflores is super nice, but honestly it’s a little too swanky for my taste. Jesús María feels more like a real neighborhood, but still nice and colorful. Love it! The IEP is great too, and the first real library, research type area that has been really useful for me. Hooray! On the way back we actually took the correct bus, unlike earlier, and booked it to Pardo´s to eat Pollo a La Brasa. I was in serious need of grocery and both Rachel and I were STARVING by the time we got home. Most delicious ever.

Wednesday morning I organized myself and my notes, as well as the house. I cleaned everywhere and felt so much better afterward. I think I’m a bit of a neat freak. Then in the afternoon I headed over the IEP again and took more really useful notes from books and theses there. Hooray! Then I took the bus back from Avenida Brasil… only it was quite the right bus. I thought it would take about 30 minutes, but about an hour in I realized that the bus was no longer on Avenida del Ejército, but Angamos. I realized where I was, got off, walked two blocks to the metropolitano, got off at Benavides, and booked it home. Rachel wanted to leave for training at 5, but because of the bus mix up I didn’t even make it home until 4:50! Good thing I left the IEP early! I got dressed super quickly, then we headed out to find a cab to Breña. Breña, it should be noted, it not a good area. When we first went to Lima and Rachel went to the gym in Breña Sonia told her not too go, that it was too dangerous…. Obviously that didn’t happen because Rachel now goes there multiple times a week. Haha, Sonia’s warnings have often turned out to be overly cautious. Breña is pretty warn down and dirty, with tons of graffiti supporting Keiko. Keiko! No! Oh please no. When I got there Hector asked me if I like Ollanta or Keiko better… I responded neither, but I suppose Ollanta because I do not trust Keiko. I don’t think I would trust any Fujimori. Ollanta’s no good either, though. Escuela Pitbull, the gym, is tiny tiny tiny; maybe a bit bigger than my dorm room last semester. Teeny! I haven’t done really any exercise since getting to peru, so I was a bit worried. Neither have I ever done MMA. MMA is like wrestling, sort of. I’m not quite sure how to describe it. Rachel did an interview with two nine year old brothers, but first she had to get permission from their drug addict father. This is a different world…. I didn’t quite know what to do while I waited, but I chatted a wee bit with Hector, the owner of the gym, and his wife Livia. They seemed skeptical that I spoke Spanish, but Rachel responded that I was better at Spanish that this was…. I’m not sure that’s true, but I was just quiet because I felt nervous and uncomfortable, ok? When we first arrived two Brazilian fighter, a man and a woman who were both ripppppped, were taking photos and filming footage for a fight that they will have against two Peruvians in a couple days. After then the Peruvian opponents arrived and did the same. Then we began our class. It was Rachel, three or four Peruvian teenage boys, and me under the direction of Hector. Hector speaks quickly, but he is even harder to understand because he has a huge square bandage places directly over his mouth… Rachel explained most things to me in English, actually. Part of the warm-up included somersaults and backwards somersaults. I remember in gymnastics I could never to backwards somersaults, but I did them. Hooray! We learned various takedowns, which are like expert tackles, and submissions, which sort of involve getting the opponents limbs all tangled in an uncomfortable position that they cannot escape from. You get them there and hope to inflict pain basically until they tap out. It’s a bit like Uncle. I went against Rachel, but literally had no foundational knowledge. I think having done rugby I caught on fairly quickly, but I NOT prepared for the last part of practice in which Hector had Rachel and I “roll” in front of a circle of about 10 peruvian strangers. We were basically trying to get the other person down in a takedown or submission. Hardly fair since Rachel is really good at this and I literally had no idea what I was doing, but I actually did have a good time. Hector seemed impressed by the fact that I did Rugby too. Rugby is not a word that Peruvians can say. Neither is Claire actually, which is why I just say Clara. Easier for them. I felt uneasy in the middle of that ring with such an audience, but I did it and I think you need to learn to laugh about these things. As we were rolling they kept trying to say rugby over and over again, and in my mind at the time I thought they were just commenting and laughing at the fact that I do rugby. I get super defensive about that because I hate people assuming that I can’t do things, and that is most people’s reaction when they find out I play rugby. Yes I’m small, yes I’m bubbly, but don’t discount my ability please.

At the end Rachel did another interview, and then Hector walked us to the street corner to get a taxi. Apparently he always does this with Rachel because Breña really isn’t a safe area.

Thursday – aka soreness attack! So sore! Going up and down the stairs in killer. I’m sore in my neck, my back, my thighs, my upper arms… Everywhere! I finally got a hold of La Republica on Wednesday morning and got an appointment to go to the archives on Thursday. Their archives are what I imagined archives would be, finally! Old and a bit disorganized, but spacious and studious. Loved it! They allowed me to take photos, which was a nice change from El Comercio… After that I went to Caretas for the last time to double check that I had what I needed and had some real awkward conversations with Miguel, then headed home. For some reason I decided to walk up the eight flights of stairs to our apartment…. Why I do not know, but it seriously contributed to future soreness. Stupid! I worked and read about the Royal Wedding, which was great I’m sure, and procrastinated a bit.

Today, Friday the 29^th, I’m sitting in a Starbucks reviewing notes and starting to write. I chatted with Marina the other day as I was skyping with Norah, and she seemed shocked that SIT was basically asking us to write a thesis in one week in another language. Yes, Marina, thank you for stressing that, but I’m well aware. I’m avoiding thinking about all the stress that next week will undoubtedly hold. Oy vey! I’m sure my paper will not have the best writing or the best grammar, but the simple accomplishment of writing a 30-40 page research paper in Spanish will feel good. I’m not even sure how much the grade of this paper will count or if my grades will even count at Conn, but I’ll do the best I can. Rachel is ambitious and writing her paper twice; once in English, and once in Spanish so that she can give it to Escuela Pitbull as well as promoters in America. I think one paper is enough for me! I have at this moment written about 2 pages of my paper. Well, at least I got a little bit of progress before I started procrastinating by writing this blog. Sorry I got so far behind and I know that these long posts are hard to trudge through. I missed all of last week too… I’ll get to that eventually.

The Iquitos girls arrived in Lima yesterday and though I have not seen them yet, I’m excited to celebrate Leah’s birthday tonight with them! Hooray! I’m glad that we can lighten the mood after a tough couple of weeks both academically and socially. I leave Lima next Thursday the 5^th, and then I leave Peru for good on Sunday, May 15^th. Only a little more than two more weeks. I wonder how I will feel about leaving and what I will miss about Peru. Oh! Another accomplishment of the week: Julie, Nate and I definitely have a place to live over the summer! Hooray! I can’t wait, it’s going to be super fun to be reunited with them.

Oh, and I feel like an old man since I ache all over and move slowly like an old man, if that wasn’t clear enough.

Au revoir!

xoxo,

Claire

Lima pt. 5: Jacqueline Fowks

4-18-11

Today, for the first time, I met with my ISP advisor, Jacqueline Fowks. She is a spirited, young academic that works at the PUCP and corresponded with a local news channel to cover the recent elections. She kind of reminded me of Gretchen Heefner, actually. This last week I struggled on my own to proceed with my research, but ultimately felt like I lacked direction and guidance. I emailed Jacqueline most days and requested help from her, Sonia, and various other sources. The thing is that other people’s project deal directly with people. Other students can find their answers through experience or inquiry, while I’m attempting to answer my own questions through extensive reading in archives, talking to academics, and historical research. Therefore I’m much more alone in this project than any of my peers. I don’t even know if I’ll do any interviews at all.

Spending time languishing in the small, dusty archives really stressed me out, especially when I repeatedly failed to find even any mention of the internal conflict (with even fewer mentions of campesinos). Talking to Jacqueline today alleviated so many of my fears and it felt so encouraging to talk to an academic that supports this project. Although she can’t provide me with answers, she can provide with with avenues to find them myself. She critiqued a lot of what I’ve done, but cut down a lot of my work. For instance, I think that I will no longer even look into events occurring in Lima, with Grupo Colina, attacks against police or politicians, or anything occurring in the selva. Actually, I think I might cut out the entire decade of the 90s from my search because most reported events were terrorist attacks committed in urban areas like Miraflores.

My facebook status today is, “Recently I’ve felt that I’m recreating Bel Canto in my own life.” I don’t know how many of you have read Bel Canto, but it is a book written by Ann Patchett about an embassy that’s taken over by “unnamed quechua terrorists” and centers on the experience of an opera singer that is one of the hostages. I was forced to read the book in high school because my high school, that brought in amazing speakers fyi like Martha Nussbaum, brought Ann Patchett to speak to us for a Common Time. Ann Patchett, first of all, is very full of herself and hearing her talk made me dislike the book even more. It took my mom like two years to get through that book. Anyway, I enjoyed what that book taught me about singing and Opera, topics that I found applicable to my high school life. Currently I find myself again thinking about Bel Canto. At the time Ann Patchett said that she based the book on an article she’d found from the 90s about an embassy overtaken by terrorists. She did not name then, nor in the book, the country. The event that she, in fact, wrote about was the 1996 hostage situation in Peru that lasted for four months of the Japanese ambassador’s residence in Peru. Members of the MRTA, the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Movement, came to the residence during a large party being held and took everyone hostage. The let most women go within the first few days, but kept quite a few people hostage for four months. What the news fails to mention is that they took the place hostage because they demanded the release from prison of about a hundred MRTA members held in prison.

Fujimori’s dictatorial government organized Operación Chavín de Huantar in which they essentially dug tunnels to the residence, killed all of the MRTA members, and got the hostages out of there. One of the people actually at this party was Alejandro Toledo, which I find fascinating. Fujimori’s brother was also a hostage. There’s a video of Fujimori inspecting the residence the day after this operation and he just walks past the bodies of MRTA soldiers with disgust and no vestige of human sympathy as he ascends the stairs. It’s a fairly powerful scene. (Fujimori’s the one in prison for human rights violations and his daughter might be the next president of Peru. Shit. Several Peruvians have told me that their’s is a family of bandits and robbers hungry for power.)

You all probably don’t care about all this historical stuff, but Ann Patchett’s a crap writer, even if she picks interesting topics. She claimed to have thought of so many things on her own, but it’s obvious that she had to do extensive research not only about opera, but also about the events at the ambassador’s residence and the Peruvian political climate. Why did she leave the country unnamed? Why did she so obviously refer to Quechua speakers and politicians of Japanese heritage which OBVIOUSLY refers to Peru. I remember Ms. Bernard hated her for her flagrant misuse of Opera terminology. Oh I miss Bernard…

Anyways, our director Sonia is coming to Lima today as a stopover to go visit the girls in Iquitos. I’m glad that I have progress to show her and a clearer idea of where I might proceed from here. I feel much more organized and relieved about this entire project and I might actually create an end product that I find both interesting and important.

xoxo,

Claire

Lima pt. 4: Homesick

4-17-11

Today, Sunday the 17^th, I gave myself a break from my ISP work and stress. I instead stressed about apartments for the summer and my CELS internship. I’m actually very worried that I won’t see my family over the summer and that the emotional toll of my internship might wear on me. I’ll work with victims of domestic violence and human trafficking. I’ve never met someone who’s gone through something like that! Am I unprepared for this? I had to fill out some CELS paperwork and write an essay for it and I just felt all this pressure weighing down on me. I talked to my mom and she made me feel much better. She and dad are leaving to visit Julie in Paris on Wednesday. I know I only have about a month left here, but at times it seems like an insurmountable amount of time. Lima is so Americanized in so many ways I don’t want to deal with another language, another culture, or another culture’s bureaucracy anymore. It’s so Americanized that it just makes me crave being in REAL America where I understand how things work and I don’t have to try so hard all the time. Eventually we figured out a lot of my dilemmas about summer and the apartment, but it was a stressful day nonetheless. I had to prepare to meet Jacqueline and Sonia too and I feel like I’ve not gotten nearly enough accomplished on this project. The stress never ends.

Xoxo,

Claire

Lima pt. 3: Archives & Yuyachkani

4/15-16/11

So Friday the 15^th I again woke up early and prepared myself to go to Caretas. I cleaned up that house a bit and then I went on my way. On the bus I sat next to an old man who asked me for directions. He was from Lima! He thought I was Peruvian too. Limenans don’t immediately assume I’m American, unlike Cusquenans. It’s an odd feeling knowing I don’t stick out as much, but still strange. I told him that I had no idea; I’d only been in Lima for a week. I once again stopped in the Plaza to collect myself and my passport, only this time a random guy sat next to me and struck up a conversation. He was a strange one. He asked to borrow a pen and then asked if I knew English because he was studying for a Spanish exam. His name was Bruce Jotain, neither of which are Peruvian names. He explained that he chose the name Jotain because he wanted to have a last name of “something” in another language. First he chose Latin, “Alquid,” but then for some reason later on chose Finnish instead and came out with the name “Jotain.” Bizarre. It weirded me out a bit that he didn’t use his real name and so I asked him what his real name was, which he did not provide. This particular forward Peruvian man asked me for my email rather than my phone number, so I gave him my secondary email that I don’t check very often. Apparently he’s studying English and will be an elementary English teacher and he told me that he doesn’t want to live in Peru, but in Europe or the US. Interesting. He thought I was Colombian?

I then went to Caretas and picked up where I’d left off the day before. I researched for quite a long time, and then when we had to move for the janitors again I talked to Miguel about music and politics. He told me that he voted for Castaneda and he asked me to go to lunch again and Lauren had said that I shouldn’t pass it up, so I accepted. They were lacquering a cabinet so I spent most of the afternoon trying to read on the couch but suffering from a headache from all those chemicals and Miguel’s distractions. I did find some interesting articles though, so I’m glad that I felt like I’d progressed.

At three we left and went to lunch. When Peruvians, and Spaniards actually, ask you out to something they take it upon themselves to pay for you. Therefore, he took me to…a grocery store. We sat and talked for a long time but god he asked me some silly things. “Have you ever been to a grocery store before? Have you ever tried juice? Have you ever tried watermelon? “ Yes, of course I have. I made it clear that I have a boyfriend, but I think I need to say it again cause he was flirting tooooo much for my taste.

That night we went out to Barranco and most of the discotecs were playing Huayno. They don’t even play huayno is cusco’s discotecs. What is this? Not danceable music at all. However, I did dance around sillily with these two girls. Damn, they had quite the arsenal of silly dance moves. We’d put our fingers on the top of someone’s head and they’d have to go to the middle of the circle and do some moves, then we’d do the same to the next person. We’d spin in circles; form a line, tons of silly stuff. I had fun dancing around with them and I was relieved to find out that they have to defend themselves from the advances of creepy men just as much as we do! Oh god, in the first bar we went to there was this creepy unibrow man, probably about 35, who went out to pick up girls with his uncle and his elderly dad. What? All three of them sort of pinned us at the bar and talked to us in English. He boasted about being a Cosco manager in California. Ok? We really didn’t want to talk to them.

On Saturday the 16^th I woke up early once again and headed to the archives. I started out the day with lots of progress, but hit quite a few roadblocks as the day progressed. Miguel sitting so close to me in this space was distracting and taxing, because I can’t chat, I have to read and he wouldn’t allow me to do that. Oy, he gave me a book of poetry. Oh god, this is horrible. I procrastinated quite a bit. It’s interesting but not necessarily useful to me that the majority of articles I’ve read barely mention the Andean zone, nonetheless people who live their or suffer violence there. The articles in Caretas all focus on the economy, politicians, elections, attacks in Lima, etc… with maybe one sentence in every few issues about gente andina. It was interesting to read about the hostage situation at the Japanese ambassador’s residence, but I just kept thinking about Bel Canto. I have noticed that they never ever use the term indigena, and rarely use the term campesina. I think those are old fashioned terms and now they use comunero, poblador, or gente de las Alturas. That’s all well and good, but I don’t feel like I’m making progress! I gave up after a while (Miguel left early, thank god) and went home. I did, however, take some photos of articles that might be useful. I had a stressful hour after that man convinced me that they’d erase all of my photos, so I sort of just slipped out. See ya later Caretas.

That night we went to Yuyachkani again. Yuyachkani is the theater group that we did a workshop with the first time we came to Lima. Ukuku!! This performance was the play they were readying back then. Whoa! It was incredible. It was incredibly patriotic and emotional, but simultaneously highly critical of Peruvian official’s and what has occurred in recent years. It told a story, but without a plot. It was maybe the most innovative use of a black box theater that I’ve ever seen.

First you walked in and the space was set up like a museum. You walk around reading the walls and information they’d posted about the war with Chile in the late 19^th century, on to Velasco, and the PCP-SL (Sendero Luminoso) and the corruption of Fujimori and Montesinos. In the center is a small, empty stage elevated above the crowd. All of a sudden you’re startling into realizing that the mannequins in front of those displays are, in fact, actors. They blasted the sound of trains passing and just as the sound stopped, the actors yelled the same words about memory simultaneously. They then made their way through the crowd to the stage and began the play. I’m not sure if I can fully describe this piece, but I found it really impactful. Is that a word? The stage broke apart into five pieces and could be wheeled around. So the story constantly changed, with actors in different costumes, in different parts of the space: elevated, at the same level as the crowd, or high above looking down from a large window. They hoisted up an enormous tattered Peruvian flag and the proceeding scenes all happened under its shadow. They danced, sang, yelled, played accordion, bared their chests, burned wood, poured water, threw paper into the air, blasted music, charged into the crowd making us scatter, wore clothing with words and forced us to come close and read, wore stilts and masks, etc. At times it almost felt like a circus, but a circus of political awareness and with the intention of a certain message. It was highly interactive and I loved that the audience was so much a part of the piece. You never knew from when direction they might come so you had to be alert and aware of yourself, prepared to spring out of your place. I cried at one point and I’m not sure I can even explain why. It was so incredibly patriotic and emotional, reflecting the suffering and history of Peru just as it reflects the disappointment with Peruvian politicians. At least as the limenan press ignores Andean people and their struggles, this theater company will NOT forget it and they do all they can to remind everyone.

xoxo,

Claire

Lima pt. 2: Caretas Archives

4/13-14/11

Sitting in the cramped corner of a tiny, dusty archive in a broken chair with a stack of papers as a desk, I realized something about myself: I have a mathematical mind without a head for numbers. I realized that the reason I like history is that there is a definitive answer. Sure, historians argue and disagree, but there is an overall understanding and set interpretation of events. That interpretation might be wrong entirely because history is, afterall, written by the victors, but at least there is something that seems like a set answer most of the time. Current events, on the other hand, drive me nuts. Everyone puts in their two cents and their own opinions creating a climate of confusion when all I want to know is what is going on. That’s what I always crave from the news, a clear answer. I’m realizing more and more how much the adult world lacks clear answers and how often you really need to figure it out for yourself and live with the mistakes you make. Not a world for perfectionists!

So, about those archives. Wednesday the 13^th was a bit of a bust, but I went to the defensoría del pueblo and looked at archived copies of a newspaper called El Diario. I felt overwhelmed. I took the Metropolitano to the center for the first time with Lauren and figured out where to go to find Caretas. It is literally in the plaza de armas in the center across the way from the Palacio del Gobierno and the Cathedral.This topic is so huge. I freaked out several times that day and emailed Sonia and Jacqueline several times, and they did what they could to help me. I ended Wednesday night feeling very homesick and worried, despairing about my project, about how much I wanted to go home, and disappointed with myself.

Thursday the 14^th: I woke up early, around 7:30, and prepared to go to the archives of Caretas for the first time. Everyone else in my house has made such progress meeting with people and going out into the city, but I haven’t felt like I’ve achieved any of that. Thursday was the first time that I felt I really went out there, into Lima, on my own and met people on my own. I took the crammed Metropolitano in the morning rush, walked a couple blocks from the Jiron de la Union stop by the Metro to the center, and stopped to rest at a bench in the plaza. I sat to collect my passport from my backpack and to arrange myself for this. I didn’t know what to expect! I went to the discreet front door (however discreet a gold door can be) and explained that I’m a student doing a research project. I requested to be let into the archives. The man at the front took my passport, then directed me to the second floor. I went up narrow, colorful stairs and found a secretary on the second floor. She told me that I needed to go up one more flight. So I turned around and went up one more set of ill-lit stairs. However, when I arrived on the small, quiet landing I did a full circle and found no archives. I also found no people. On the left I saw a small elevator with a red door, ahead a door that said only authorized people allowed, a small rickety couch and closed doors to my right. What to do what to do. I sat down and pondered, hoping someone would appear with a sign proclaiming, “ARCHIVES!”…but sadly that did not happen. I plucked up my courage and knocked on the door straight ahead.

A man with a pock-marked face answered me as I stuck me head through the door. I explained my project to him, and to my surprise he seemed to blink without recognition when I mentioned the armed internal conflict. “You mean terrorism?” her asked. She he had me sit back down on the rickety bench as he went to retrieve some files for me. I sat and waited quietly for a good half hour before he returned with a large stack of disorganized files about terrorism in the 80s and Uchuraccay. I sat on the couch reading for a while before they invited me to sit in the archives themselves. Well, sort of. There’s a large-ish table at the back, but they were holding a meeting, so I sat in the tiny room in the front within about a foot and a half of a young guy named Miguel. If you can imagine an old desk chair with the seating crumbling apart, that’s what I sat on. I repeatedly had to jump out of the way because I sat directly in front of two bookshelves and there was zero floor space for people to skirt around me. I also had to spring out of the way to let a janitor sweep, then mop the floor. Lima is a very dusty place and the archives are correspondingly dusty. Then again, I think archives are always dusty.

So about Miguel. Oy, he’s chatty and a journalism student. He wouldn’t leave me alone for a while, which I dearly wanted because my time in the archives is so limited. Peruvian men are so forward. Within minutes he had asked my first and last name, where I was from, my phone number, where I live in Lima, if I wanted to go to lunch, what I am doing in the archives… etc. I politely declined. I’ve discussed with Lauren before how, speaking in Spanish, we act far more politely than we maybe should at all times. Then again, I’m never polite to the people sticking tickets in your face in the plaza de armas in cusco. I hate those guys and I’d sooner yell at them, which I have actually done before. Even though I found Miguel distracting, it was nice to actually speak in Spanish, which I haven’t really been able to do since coming to Lima.

If I’d written this post days ago as I should have done, the tone would be very different. Today I feel calm, but at that point I felt incredibly frustrated and annoyed. The main reason for this was Peruvian institutions and their lack of CLEAR ANSWERS. One person would tell me that I could photocopy articles, another person would tell me that there was no photocopier, another would tell me it was free with a photocopier from another area, another would tell me that it cost 50 cents per page. I asked if the archives would be open next week during semana santa: One person told me, “of course! We’re the news, we never close,” another told me that they’d be open Monday but no other day, and another told me that they’d be open. I eventually found out that they will, in fact, be closed. Come on people! This is where you WORK! Why don’t you know these things? I asked if I could photograph articles instead of photocopying since I can’t spend that much money: Two people said of course, another told me that it was absolutely prohibited and that I’d have to pay anyways and that the people at the front door would take my camera and delete all of the pictures on it….. I just took discreet photos after that. This country lacks any clear answers! I can comply easily if only people tell me how I’m supposed to behave! Urgh. Very frustrating.

xoxo,

Claire

I forgot the best news

Whoops!

On monday I sent a thank you letter to the IINE, and in return I heard back and they want to offer me an internship over the summer! Hooray! I'm so glad that I have my summer CELS stuff figured out. Even if this ISP goes disasterously, at least I can look forward to summer!!

xoxo,

Claire

Here I am in Lima Town: The last week in Cusco and the beginning of Lima (plus ISP frustrations)

April 4-12, 2011

That’s a big chunk of time! Leave it to me to get exceedingly behind. It’s not like I haven’t been sitting on my computer either. Oy! Ok, so the last couple days in Cusco were not super interesting. We didn’t have class until Wednesday and I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday finishing my diario del campo, writing my IRB, and finishing my ISP research proposal. Oy! It was a long process and, actually, not very rewarding to finish. Oh well. So I kept to myself a lot those days and felt a little ill on one of them, but pulled my act together in the end.

We had our final meeting of everyone and on Thursday we did a Pago a La Tierra, a Andean religious ceremony where you give gifts to the land and ask for whatever it is that you ask for. We, communally, asked that we be safe on your independent months and that our investigations go well. More than anything I appreciated the Pago a La Tierra for reuniting our group together for one final afternoon together and for making us realize how much we’ve grown with one another. At the end Donaldo gave a really meaningful speech that made me cry. I don’t remember exactly how it went, but he said (in Spanish),

“Chicos, look around. Think back to when you walked onto that bus the first day. That day you were alone. You were in a new place and though you were all together, you were alone. You weren’t present in Urubamba; your minds and hearts were still with your homes, with your friends, and with your families. Now look around. You are together and you have all grown. You are here for one another and I’m proud of all of you. Look how far you’ve come.”

That doesn’t do him justice, but I really truly appreciated what he said. It was such a nice exit to be able to give everyone a hug, to sit together for what, three hours?, and just enjoy each others’ presence for nearly the last time. They passed around a bottle of pisco and a bottle of wine around the table. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it here before, but Peruvian wine is absolutely foul. It’s sweet and often BROWN rather than red. Ugh it’s terrible. Pisco is fine in a pisco sour, but a shot of pisco is foul as well. We had to dip our fingers in pisco and flick them, give pisco to the wind and to the two apus (Apu being, basically, a god that resides in/is a mountain) that we prayed to in this ceremony. We then had to drink a little bit (ugh!) and dump the drips onto the ground to give to Pachamama. The wine, which was Argentinian THANK GOD, was poured onto the ground directly to Pachamama and we drank a sip too. We also gave the traditional offering of three coca leaves for ayni, or reciprocity. They said that we could also give offerings for loved ones so I got one for Julie and for Sebas (poor little guy has a cold! I hoped that he would feel better. I miss that little one. I miss hearing “Lala” yelled at me in a baby voice every day.) Brynerin then brought out a guitar and sang songs, which we weren’t tooootally sure were appropriate. However, the main guy said that all music was appropriate so she sang songs that she herself penned about 1) Weed and food that she loves when she has the munchies, 2) Burning Man, and 3) How we are blessed. Very funny and unexpected! The first two were quite unexpected, for sure.

My coca leaves

Our Paqo, giving someone a blessing

Oh! I didn’t mention the location! Ok, so at 3 pm on Thursday (4-7-11) we met at the SIT building with a Paqo, Donaldo, and the guy who gave us the conference on Andean Religiosity. We then walked towards the mountain and hiked up a HUGE hill until we reached a flat part, which turned out to have been an Incan temple. We even had to wade/jump across a pretty big stream to do it! It had an absolutely impeccable view of Cusco.

Wading Across

We sat in a circle, rubbed a strong smelling liquid between our hands and over our clothes to purify us, and gave the Paqo something one our person that we held dear to be included in the ceremony. Some of it was serious, but a lot of it was just goofing off or chatting with the people next to you and enjoying their company. I sat with Mateo on my left and Anna on my right. One by one we each went up to receive a blessing from the Paqo and after he’d assembled all of the offerings together to be burned, we went up one by one again and he rubbed the package all over our bodies to absorb our worries and fears.

Maggie H receiving a blessing

Our offerings all assembled, ready to be bound up and burned for Pachamama and the Apus

That night I had my last dinner with my host family and I think Sebas could tell something was up because he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. He made me draw with him, play on cars with him, and he even dragged me on an unexpected walk that my host mom quickly put an end too. I miss that little guy :(. I helped Bryn and Matt move Bryn out of her host family’s house, and then we went to Matt’s house to meet everyone. People didn’t arrive for a while so I made Matt give me a bunch of music. Eventually they came from dinner and after a while we sad goodbyes and went to Ukukus. So fun! I wanted to go home and pack, but they had live music and it was super fun to dance sillily with the girls to live versions of Twist and Shout and Hey Jude. That and Mana. Go figure, it’s peru!

My host family was super nice and had their driver guy (since they don’t know how to drive their own car) drive Kia and I to the airport. We checked in without any problems then after a bit of a wait got on our plane to Lima. I’m going to miss my host family! I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to Farina or my host dad (boo!) but I really do like them so much and I will miss having them in my life for the next month. I miss sebas too! Poor little guy is sick and he missed a bunch of days that week from his jardin.

We arrived in Lima on Friday afternoon and Rachel had coordinated a taxi to pick us up and drive us to Miraflores, which is a good hour away from the airport. However, Kia was on a later flight and she got delayed. We had to pay a little extra because of this, but it also gave us time to go eat lunch and yummm Pardo’s Chicken is delicious when you’re starving!

We then drove through the fog (after bidding the Iquitos girls goodbye. I love them!) to Miraflores and discovered that our apartment is an amazing place. Three stories! Only a block away from the grocery store! Miraflores! Five blocks from the ocean (If you count the cliff overlooking the ocean and highway as the “ocean”)! It’s amazing! Unfortunately, we arrived and Olivia found out that a security guy in Cusco’s airport had stolen half of her stipend money. Not a good way to start the trip! The landlord, a british man with a silly accent named Paul Gibbs( …he pronounces his Rs as if they were Ws. Try it – Instead of Road, it’s Woad, etc.), dealt with us very well and tried to help then showed us around, collected out rent, and went on his way. We laid down some ground rules, then went to Vivanda to get groceries. On the way there we ran into three Americans, one of which goes to Columbia with Kia. Small world! They are on the Butler PUCP program that I nearly went on so when I found that out I had a bit of an odd moment when I thought, “Whoooooaa, these are the people I would be friends with if I’d made the other choice.” I’m glad I didn’t make that choice. They don’t finish school until July! Plus, I like Cusco more than Lima. They said that Miraflores isn’t anywhere near PUCP and they have to take an hour combi ride to get to class. That sounds like a pain.

Later than afternoon we got an email from Sonia saying that Donaldo is leaving SIT for personal reasons. What?? He seemed sad on Thursday and that makes me especially glad that I gave him an extra hug goodbye before leaving Cusco. However, we are all skeptical that he left voluntarily. If any of us had to pick between Donaldo and Sonia, Donaldo would win hands down. We don’t know what happened and since I’m so far away, I find it unlikely that we’ll find out. I am, actually, inordinately upset about this. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

That night I chatted with Joanna and Madeleine and it was marvelous! It made me miss my friends from home (and home) so much!!! I can’t wait to see you guys! I had to pick housing last week and I am stuck in Lambdin again far from my friends. NOOOO Not happy about that. I wrote to the student housing people but didn’t get a very promising response. There’s a chunk of time in may when anyone can trade rooms… so hopefully I can solve the situation then.

The view of foggy Lima from my bedroom window. We're on the 8th story.

Saturday and Sunday? I don’t think I did much, to be honest. I hung around the apartment, tried to figure out which classes to take next semester, and tried to start some sort of research for my ISP here. On Sunday night Lauren and I made a pineapple carrot bake because Maggie Flesher stopped by on Monday and it was her 21^st bday. Yummy cake! On Monday I made the creamcheese frosting and it was delicious, if I do say so myself. It’s really nice to be able to cook for myself here.

On Monday I tried to do research online and failed. I then thought I’d take public transit, the Metropolitano bus line, to the Public Library in San Borja. Also a big fail. I wish maps were more detailed/available. I have yet to find a good map and I need one! Good lord, I’m becoming my father. So after walking around San Borja for an hour getting lost and feeling scared and uncomfortable (People kept making the yucky kissy noises at me and I definitely wasn’t in a tourist/gringo friendly part of town) so I got back on the Metropolitano and went home. Maggie came by and we showed her the cake. She was impressed by our apartment….it is pretty great! I totally didn’t expect three floors. I felt really frustrated and depressed all day because I’m so annoyed with my struggles with myself and this project and how much this city intimidates me. Agh! So that night I decided that I’d make myself go to yoga with Olivia and Maggie. Olivia and Rachel have gone nearly every day. Let me tell you, I HATED that yoga class. We were on the second floor and could not hear or see the instructor, I don’t know the names for yoga poses in Spanish anyway, it was hot, and the fairly advanced guy up there with the three of us (me, Olivia, and a random guy) was just showing off and doing headstands and shit! Ugh, made me feel bad about myself and my yoga skills and I kept having to stand and peer over the balcony to see what the rest of the class was doing. I absolutely hated it. Not going back! It was also too much quiet time to let my mind wander, worry, and chastise me for not getting my project done. Booooooo.

When we got home I learned that the History Teacher that would be teaching my class on Postcolonial South Asia will not be at Conn for another year (she’s deferred her appointment in favor of a post-doctoral fellowship at Rutgers) so I had to figure out what classes to take instead! We went to dinner, came home and ate the yummy cake, bid farewell to Maggie (she took a flight to Ayacucho at around 4 AM!), and went to sleep.

I woke up this morning, Tuesday the 12^th, at 6 am to register for classes. I’m sure I’ll change things around later, but as of right now I’m taking Stock’s History of the American West in the 20^th Century, Downs’ Emancipation and Slavery in the Americas class, Spanish Cinema with Luis Gonzalez (hooray!), and French 101. We shall see about French….I wanted to take more film classes but they all required permission from the registrar.. I also wanted to take an Anthro class about Bollywood and Globalization…. I might work that in somehow later too… or Heefner’s Reagan Revolution class… oh man I don’t know. What about Vikings? Dear oh dear.

I ate breakfast and wished that Peruvians didn’t sell milk in bags so that the French press was open for coffee business instead of storing milk. I then researched online a bit and decided to go to the National Library in San Borja, the one I tried to go to on Monday. This time, however, I would take a cab! Rachel wanted to come too, and wow thank god. Today was another big fail, but I, thankfully, didn’t feel quite to awful about it. We got to the library, after paying 10 S./ for a taxi, only to learn that it’s closed to the public until june or july. So then we decided to take another taxi to Pueblo Libre and the PUCP, the Pontificia Universidad Catolica del Peru, to look at their libraries. After another 10 S./ we learned that their library is closed too and that we, as foreigners, have to gain special permission in order to access their libraries. Limeñans talk toooooooooo fast and I can’t understand what they say most of the time. Without a host family I speak much much less spanish. My advisor also prefers to email me in english, even though I email her in Spanish. So then we decided not to waste more soles and take a bus back to Miraflores. If we thought combis were hard to navégate in Cusco, which they are!!!, then they are near impossible in Lima. Both Rachel and I asked the Money collector guy on oe bus if he went to Miraflores, We asked him separately and each time he said yes! So, we got on. Only later when he collected our soles did he seem confused and tell us that the bus did not, in fact, g oto Miraflores. He was nice later though and alerted us when to get off the bus and pointed to the right bus. We ran from one bus to another and finally got on one leading home. I would not have liked to do all of this on my own! Especially since I read the article in Caretas yesterday about the taxi driver that raped and killed and australian tourist and beat up her boyfriend. If you read that, please don’t tell my mom. She would worry. But because of that news story I am far too scared of Lima and scared to go about on my own….which I need to be able to do for this Project.

So I spent the afternoon freaking out and trying to figure out how I might spend my time fruitfully. I watched the documentary on youtube that my advisor told me to watch, La Cantuta en la Boca del Diablo, and tried to figure out my life and relax.

So there it is, a very long-winded update of my life. Lima is an interesting and scary place for me and I feel very homesick here, but I hope that it gets better. My roommates are great at least!

ps - Oh my gosh, how could I forget?? On Saturday Olivia and I went to the Museo de la Nacion again to look at the photo exhibit on the Internal Armed Conflict, and then sunday was the presidential election. Lauren went with a couple people form her community to go vote with them and experience it. Very Cool. Unfortunately the frontrunners are Humala and Keiko. In a month there will be another election to choose between those two. I'd hoped for PPK, as had my whole host family. I wonder who will win outright and what they will change in this country.

xoxo,

Claire

El Último Fin de Semana en Cusco

4-2/3-11

This is my last weekend here before ISP! I can’t believe it and I feel bittersweet. I’m worried about Lima because it’s really big and fairly dangerous. Even if I’m perfectly safe it still takes me a while to get myself accustomed to a new place and I don’t have THAT much time there. I am excited though because many of the Iquitos crew are coming to visit towards the end of April. That’ll be something to look forward to!

Last night a couple of us decided to get up early and go to the Tupac Amaru market to buy presents for friends and family. I got a couple things, but I can’t tell what to buy people! I keep searching for rings to buy for myself and failing. They’re either too small or too expensive! I wonder if I’m going to return to the US and try to haggle with people. I already know that I’m going to be shocked by US prices. Here a 5 soles taxi ride is ridiculously expensive, but I remember taking a taxi in Boston last summer that cost me 30 dollars. That was ridiculous and I was pissed about it. PS – 5 soles is a little less than two dollars. We then went to the artisanal market where I continued my search for a ring. We ran into Donaldo and his family at the market and oh my gosh! I’d never met his daughters before but they are the most adorable little girls!! One is six and the other is three, but when I asked her how old she was she responded, “four.” Her mom had to pipe up and say, “No, she’s actually three.” So cute!

I came home for lunch and then in the afternoon I tried to catch up on my diario del campo. I’m reeeeeeally far behind. Good thing I have this blog because I can reference it and remember what in the world I’ve been doing. If not, the diario would be much more scant and vague.

I went out last night and danced and had a great time, so I figured I would go out again. It is, afterall, our last weekend all together in Cusco before ISP! We all went to Jake’s apartment for ISP and had ourselves a house party, something that we’re all more familiar and comfortable with than discotecas. Today was Amy’s birthday (we all ate cake yesterday after FSS! I love that SIT celebrates birthdays.) so we had to show her a good time. I don’t remember much else…

This morning I woke up at Tyler’s house, very confused, to the sound of my phone ringing. She and Kia had made the executive decision that I should sleep there since we got back really late. My host mom, however, was not in on this decision and was very worried about me. There were various miscommunications since I answered the phone half-asleep, but I finally cleared it up and went home to apologize. I felt especially bad since she’s such a nice lady and I hadn’t meant to deceive her! I felt really embarrassed, but she greeted me with no anger or anything. She just wanted to make sure that I was ok and that I’d eaten. Oh Peruvians! I showered then ate breakfast…then about ten minutes later I ate lunch. Most people would turn that into one meal, but Peruvians hate skipping meals. They’re so worried about people getting enough to eat! We had to hurry because we were going to go to another Cienciano game at one. I left with Papa Angel and Iris, struggled to find a cab, and then met Tio Alfredo outside of the stadium. Before we left Iris mentioned in passing that I should probably bring my rain jacket. Whoa was she right!!! It rained the entire second half and even though I wore my rain jacket I still got soaked! Everyone did! It rained harder than it did during the Yunsa! The rainy season is ending supposedly and it really hasn’t rained nearly as often as before, but the rain in making last ditch monsoon efforts. It poured last night and then today was ridiculous too! The game was between Cienciano (Initials are CC, which confuses me every time…) and Union Comercio. Cienciano was winning the whole game but it ended in a tie. By that time no one cared anymore because we were all soaked! I’d wanted to buy a jersey after the game, but all the vendors had fled from the rain. Some other time I guess.

We came home soaking wet and after changing we ate another small lunch, then about an hour later we had dinner. Haha Peruvians. Dinner here, however, generally consists of Tea/Coffee and some small dessert. Today it was Jello. I tried to write a little more of my diario (I’m still far behind), and then I went to play with Sebas. He calls me Lala because he can’t say Clarita, and that has turned into a new name for me in the house: Lalita. I actually really like the name. Sebas has starting hitting a lot more and we think he’s learning it from other kids at kindergarten. Today, however, he didn’t hit me at all. He did give me lots of hugs! I love little kids. The presidential debate was on at seven and so I attempted to watch it but Sebas kept dragging me all over the place. He was so cute in his ninja pajamas, tuxedo shiny shoes from his baptism, and a huge baseball cap. I wish I’d taken a photo! I had fun playing with him, but I did want to watch! The debate was between the top five candidates: Keiko Fujimori, Luis Castañeda, Ollanta Humala, Alejandro Toledo, and Pedro Pablo Kryczynski (PPK). On Thursday Papa Angel explained to me that he doesn’t trust Humala because he is a military man and he once ran for president before. For that election he basically followed the doctrine of near dictators Hugo Chavez and Castro. Papa Angel thinks that if Humala won then he’d turn into a dictator and obviously we don’t want that! It’s also suspicious because for this election Humala changed a lot of his political stances. Which one are the people supposed to trust in? Castaneda is super conservative and has a creepy smile. On the plane the other day Kia was reading a book about gay people in Peru and now she really hates Castaneda. Apparently when he was mayor of Lima he did some really terrible things. Keiko is the daughter of the only president in world history to resign by fax. Toledo used to be president and I don’t think that he should be reelected. That leaves PPK. Farina told me that she will vote for PPK and from what I heard in the debate, I would vote for him too. I hope that whoever wins manages to do more good than harm.

xoxo,

Claire

Trabajo

3-31-11 & 4-1-11

I just wrote a sentence and then realized that it was in Spanish instead of English…whoops. Imagine how I’d be if I lived in Peru longer! I keep getting really far behind on this blog. Ugh. The reason is that I have lots of other work to do and so I often spend lots of time on my computer writing or researching, instead of doing fun things that I can write about later.

Thursday the 31^th: I was convinced that we got Wednesday and Thursday free from class because the directors wanted a weekend since ours was taken up with adventures in the Amazon. However, they weren’t so much of a break for us because our final paper for the conferences was due on Friday. Therefore my Thursday was not toooo exciting. I spent nearly the whole day in a café trying to write my paper (about the Internal War). I’ve been emailing back and forth with the woman I submitted my cover letter and resume to. There was a miscommunication and despite the fact that I’ve told her I’m in Peru, she asked me to come in for an interview. I suggested skype etc.. but she never really responded. I had a little bit of a breakdown about it today because I feel so frustrated about these miscommunications and I feel as if she much be extremely tired of dealing with me. As of now that is the only internship I’ve applied to because I REALLY wanted it and because her response at first was so positive. Now I’m not so sure and that makes me worried. I suppose I should go back to searching. I really enjoyed the early afternoon because I was feeling super stressed about all these things and assignments and trying to pick classes but I took a break to go to El Molino with Rachel. Sometimes doing something completely different is what I need to get perspective and relax. We bought some USBs (apparently I left mine in the US), some sunglasses (mine broke), and some movies (of course). Rachel made me feel a lot better and I appreciated it.

Friday the 1^st: We had our next to last FSS today and we talked about how to put together our project proposals. I hope that I do this proposal well….SIT has a habit of not really explaining things and assuming that we understand. We completed a sample proposal in small groups (SIT loves wasting times by splitting people into small groups to discuss when we often don’t know what it is we’re supposed to discuss). We turned our papers in and received our grades from the Spanish exam, and then we were free for the rest of the day. After lunch we got a group together and played soccer. I never wear the right shoes! I played in moccasins and had big blisters by the end of the game. The pain was worth it though! We won! My team was composed of Chris, Lucia, Jake, and me. The opposing team was Casey, Justin, Sammie, Rebecca, and Lauren. The smaller team won! I usually think I’m terrible at soccer, but for some reason this game went really well and I had an excellent time. I got home to lunch a littler late because of it and everyone remarked that I was super flushed. I hope that we play again! It felt like a more even match without Donaldo playing, although he always passes the ball instead of scoring all the time, which he most definitely could. I forget if it was Thursday or Friday that they came, but the grandparents are visiting again! Tia Luciana, Tia Lucha (I just figured out that Lucha is the nickname, or apodo, for Luisa. That’s why Luis Castañeda’s posters all say Lucho!) Oh, and I can’t forget Papa Angel (my favorite!). I was afraid I’d never see them again. Yesterday my host mom did the nicest thing; it really warmed my heart. When I came home for lunch I discovered the grandparents sitting at the lunch table and while I greeted them Tia Lucha remarked that I had gained weight. Inevitably it is true, but I don’t think I’m fat! At night I was in my room pretending to work and my host mom knocked on the door. She apologized for her mother and explained that they are old and they don’t understand. I already knew this (my grandma is the same way), but the fact that she went so far out of her way to make sure I was okay and to apologize really meant a lot to me. The simple gesture was just so kind and it made me realize how much I appreciate and love my host family. Sitting at the dinner table tonight I felt truly like a part of the family. I don’t feel uncomfortable around them anymore and I’m just so lucky to have landed in this wonderful family. When we didn’t have class everyday I really started to realize how much I’m going to miss everyone. We have a really great group and I love my host family and though I’m going to Lima with some good friends, I will really miss everyone. After ISP we’re only together for a week presenting our projects, and then the program ends. Who will I never see again once the program ends?

In the afternoon I had a meeting with Donaldo and Sonia to talk about my ISP. They didn’t provide that much help because most of what I need to do now is make contacts and I think my idea is fairly clear. Sonia did, however, give me the email of someone who would be a good tutor. Apparently this woman wrote a book about the media during the internal war and right now she is reporting the elections of a news channel called N. I wrote to Jaime Urrutia a couple of days ago asking him to be my advisor. He hasn’t responded yet, so perhaps this new woman would be better. Also, she lives in Lima (unlike Urrutia) so I would be able to meet with her in person.

That night we had another dinner party at Rebecca’s house. This time we made quesadillas!

xoxo,

Claire