Fun But Tiring

FBT, or Field Based Training, is one of the milestones of our first three months in country. During FBT, volunteers travel with their respective programs to a rural site in Peru. There they put into practice what they have learned during their first month of training by working directly with local municipalities and small projects. In addition, FBT marks one of the first serious evaluations of all the volunteers. The technical directors and the program director travel with the volunteers and evaluate how they interact not only with each other, but also with the local culture. Based on their evaluation of the volunteer, the directors will then begin to decide where to place him or her in their final site. So, FBT is not only a great opportunity for volunteers to explore more of Peru and develop their own personal skills, but it is also one of the most important events for deciding the next two years of our lives.

Yesterday I returned to Chaclacayo after completing the health program FBT. For the past five days I have been in the Huancavelica province of Peru, which is located in the south and away from the coast:

Huancavelica falls within the Peruvian Sierra. As a result, it is characterized by arid highlands, a cold to temperate climate, and deep mountain ranges. In my opinion, it is one of the most beautiful provinces of Peru. However, it is also one of the poorest. Poverty is very widespread within Huancavelica and many basic amenities are few and far in between. That being said, our FBT was extremely challenging. However, it was also an extremely amazing and rewarding experience.

My FBT started bright and early Sunday morning. Really early. Too early. It takes anywhere from 10-12 hours to get to Huancavelica by bus, so we had to leave the training center by 6:00 AM to reach our hotel by night. That’s right. We left the training center at 6:00, meaning I had to wake up at 4:00 in order to get dressed, snag breakfast for the road, and catch a bus into town. Ouch. When we all left together, I had perhaps one of the most miserable bus rides of my life. We packed 15 volunteers, plus their backpacks, into a minivan. I was smashed from all sides, without fresh air, and without any access to a window to see the road for six hours. I didn’t know what was going to get to me first – the severe leg cramps, the claustrophobia, or the motion sickness.

Thankfully we got a bit of a reprieve when we stopped for lunch in Coayllo, Lima. However, there are no true “breaks” in the Peace Corps. Free time is an opportunity for more work. So in addition to eating, we got to visit a Peace Corps water and sanitation volunteer and help him with his project. He had just recently finished building a series of improved kitchen stoves in his neighborhood and we were charged with the task of conducting follow-up house visits. I was with a team that visited three houses. We inspected the kitchens and conducted surveys to determine how they were being used and if they had or had not improved the health and sanitation of the households. When conducting these sorts of house visits, you have to be a detective. You’ll find that people will give you an answer that is not 100% true, or only one side of the story. For instance, several of our families claimed that they frequently used the improved kitchens and greatly enjoyed them. However, upon closer inspection you could see cobwebs inside the burners and a large collection of ash. Hm, frequently used? I think not. However, it was a good first step. Behavior change takes a long time to take effect and volunteers may not see the fruits of their labor until much, much later. Unfortunately we didn’t have too much time to spare to discuss the results of our surveys. We had to jump back into our minivan of misery for another 3-4 hours.

Finally at 6:30 PM we arrived at our hotel at Huaytara, Huancavelica. Huaytara, which is located at 8,944 ft. above sea level, would prove to be our home base for the next two days. We would eat and sleep there, but our projects were located in towns 1-2 hours away. Although I didn’t get to spend much time in Huaytara, I did find one glimmering, glistening gem that will always make Huaytara near and dear to my heart. HOT SHOWERS. I had not one, not two, but THREE hot showers (ok, more like lukewarm but it still felt glorious) during my stay there. It’s the first time I’ve had hot water in a month. Lord be praised!

My first day of work was held in Quishuampampa (Kee-shwam-PAM-pa…I know it’s a mouthful), a town at 11,155 feet above sea level and home to about 230-250 people. To begin, we stopped at a local health post to meet with a health volunteer, Ally, who was serving in the area. Health posts are pretty common in Peru, especially in rural sites. They are medical posts that provide basic care to the community. They are often staffed by nurses and maybe an obstetrician, but rarely by any full-fledged doctors. Peace Corps health volunteers often work closely with their local health posts to design outreach and educational programs. From our chat with Ally and a local nurse, we were able to understand what this relationship was like and how to begin working within the health post network. When we were finished, we hiked 10-15 minutes to a nearby house in order to build our first improved kitchen stove.

The Peace Corps health program has three primary areas of focus, one of which is environmental health. Peace Corps volunteers strive to improve quality of life by improving water sanitation and health, a goal which is accomplished by teaching hand-washing classes and building latrines and improved kitchens, among other things. Most kitchens within rural households are very poorly made. They are low to the ground and unstable, making them difficult to use. It is common for mothers to suffer from back problems from having to bend over their stoves. Burns are also common since it’s easy for pots to get knocked off the stoves or for the wood-thatched houses to catch fire. Respiratory illnesses are also frequent, especially with children, due to poor ventilation and smoke inhalation. Finally, these stoves often require a lot of wood. As a result, mothers often can’t afford to use extra wood for tasks that seem non-essential, such as boiling water. Consequentially, families will often suffer from diarrheal diseases and poor nutrition. By building more fuel-efficient stoves, Peace Corps volunteers can greatly improve the health of the household. If they are used properly, these kitchens can reduce burns and respiratory illnesses and increase nutritional health dramatically. For this reason, it’s essential that we all understand how to build kitchens within our sites.

Ally was about to launch her own kitchen stove project and we had the opportunity to help her build her first stove. We started with a bare corner of the house. Thankfully, the family already provided many of the supplies including the adobe bricks, the shovels, and the picks. Emma, another volunteer, also took the time to mix the mud for us, which consisted of water, dirt, and estiércol de vaca (aka cow shit). I took the role of shoveler. I climbed down into the mud pit and shoveled piles of mud onto potato sacks that were then carried inside and dumped into the corner. The mud was then smoothed out and leveled and adobe bricks were placed in rows on top. Cracks between the bricks were filled with adobe chunks and more mud. This continued until we had about three layers of adobe and mud. Then it was time to plan for the stove. We talked with the mother of the household and she requested that the stove be placed close to the front. That way, she had more space in the back to store pots and pans. We had brought a metal sheet with four holes cut in it that would serve as our stovetop. Using a measuring tape, we found which bricks would be located directly under the four stove burners. These were temporarily removed and we placed a layer of broken glass, sugar, and salt underneath them. This would help conduct heat once the stove was used. We then put down the stovetop and made the firewood cavity. We also tied a metal sheet into a tube and inserted it through the roof. This was also adhered to the stove with mud and would serve as a chimney. For the final step, we had to go over all the cracks and finalize the firewood cavity with a special mud. How is it special? It’s got more cow shit in it. According to Emma, this is crucial. In areas of high heat, like the firewood cavity, normal mud will crack and split. This will allow smoke to be released into the house and render the improved kitchen ineffective. Because cow shit has grass and plant pulp it in it, it is able to resist the heat and does not crack. Thus, we had to mix a new type of mud to be used as a sealant. And guess whose job that was?

I went back to the mud pit and hauled a large pile of mud onto a potato sack. To my great dismay, as I began to haul it into the house one of the family members then presented me with a large trash bag. Inside was a big pile of freshly pooped cow shit. Wonderful. I took both of my prizes into the house, carefully poured some of the poop onto the mud and added a cup of water. Tadaa! I presented my mud-sealant to Emma with pride.

“Great! The ratios look good, but, Lyndsey, you’re going to have to mix it.”

Pardon? Mix it with what? I can’t bring the shovel inside and it would be far too clumsy to use it. I’d get mud everywhere. A spoon is too small and I don’t want to use the household kitchenware. There are no handheld shovels so, what then? As I looked at my fellow volunteers I could see their faces fall when they realized what had to happen. That’s when I understood what I’d have to use – my hands. I looked down at my blister-ridden palms and realized I’d have to plunge them into a big, steaming pile of green cow shit. As I bent down and contemplated all the ways bacteria could enter the cuts and sores, I was hit by the smell. Ah yes, the smell of cow shit. Fragrant. 

“I really need that sealant, Lyndsey.”

I gave one last desperate look at my comrades and pleaded with my eyes. Nope. No one was going to budge. Ok, I told myself, you have 5 seconds to curse the fact that you’re about to submerge your hands in crap. Think about it…think about it…3...2…1. And you’re done. Now get to work. As I shoved my hands up to my wrist into the pile, I told myself that I was kneading pie dough. A big, smelly, green pie dough. A pie dough that was still warm after leaving a cow’s anus. Fantastic. But my pain wasn’t over yet. With the help of another volunteer (finally), I had to then use my hands to spread the sealant all over the inside of the oven and into the cracks. There could be no holes.

Despite my slightly horrific experience and all the hard work, I loved making the kitchen. It was extremely satisfying to transform a barren corner of the house into a fully functional, working kitchen that would help a family for years to come. That being said, though, I couldn’t wait to clean myself off. My shoes, my jeans, and my shirt were streaked with mud and my hands were still covered in crap. It took me a long, long time to scrape the shit out of the inner corners of my fingernails. And let me tell you, I don’t think I’ve used so much hand sanitizer in my life.   

After a lunch break, we returned to town and held a nutrition workshop with a group of mothers. Ally went through the town and rounded them up, and once the mothers arrived at the health post we gave a small lecture on the food groups and why it was important to feed kids a balanced diet. Afterwards, we made ensalada rusa, a cold salad of cooked potatoes, beets, carrots, and eggs mixed with mayonnaise and salt. Once we were finished, it was finally time to head back to Huaytara.

It was around this time that people started dropping like flies. I’ve been mentioning the altitude of each site for a reason. Have you ever experienced altitude sickness? Trust me, it’s a doozy. One by one I watched as my fellow volunteers succumbed to the vicious consequences of the altitude. People became bedridden and couldn’t keep down food. They walked around like zombies, green from head to foot. Out of the 30-some volunteers in our FBT, 1 out of 5 became violently sick. Thankfully, I was not one of them. My only point of suffering was when I had to climb stairs or any sort of hill. By the end, I’d be huffing and puffing like an asthma patient. Due to the low oxygen, even normal, every-day activities became an anaerobic workout. Consequentially, we were constantly starving and scarffed anything that was reasonably edible in sight. So much for my Insanity workouts.

My last day of work was at Pilpichaca, which is situated at a whopping 13,123 feet above sea level. We began by visiting the municipality. We got to meet David, the health volunteer stationed at Pilpichaca, and the mayor and had a nice, long discussion about the role of the local government in health outreach programs. Next David took us to a microred, a health center that oversees several health posts. Unlike a health post, a microred is staffed by doctors, has the ability to treat more serious cases, and, normally, even has an ambulance or two. We visited with obstetricians, biologists, dentists, and general physicians and discussed the nutrition and childhood stimulation programs they implemented within the facility. To finish off the afternoon, we broke into teams and conducted another round of house visits. David had previously conducted a series of health and sanitation workshops with some of the nearby households. We were in charge of following up with those houses to see if they had implemented any of the new knowledge and to determine if they understood the material. The first house we visited was empty, but thankfully the second house proved to be occupied. We convinced the mother to take a break from her housework and took a tour of her home. We noted if she had cleaned her floor, how she stored her pots and pans, and where she disposed her trash. We asked her to demonstrate how she washed her hands and quizzed her on how to prevent and treat diarrhea and dehydration. After about 30 minutes of conversation, we thanked her and left in order to present our findings to the group.  

When lunch was over with I had time to enjoy a brief rest. I walked around for a bit and enjoyed the scenery, which I have to say was gorgeous. There was a river nearby and crystal clear, blue mountain water rushed over the rocks and through the ravines. The mountains were sparsely vegetated, but richly colored. The ground shimmered with greens, oranges, and coppers that deepened as a raincloud darkened in the sky. The town only consisted of one street and couldn’t have had more than 200 people living there, but it was quite homey and welcoming. Everyone was extremely polite and greeted each other with genuine warmth. I loved talking to those who passed by, and many of them asked me when I’d be moving into town. I was sorry to tell them that, unfortunately, the site was taken and that I wouldn’t be staying full-time.

When everyone else had finished we moved on to our last activity of the day. David had just finished a 12-week program called Pasos Adelante (in English, “steps forward”). Pasos Adelante is a program directly tied into the third goal of the Peace Corps health program, which is geared towards promoting sexual health and decision-making among adolescents. Using the Pasos Adelante manual, David met with local youth once a week to discuss themes such as self esteem, HIV and AIDS, how to prevent unwanted pregnancy and STIs, and how to accomplish their dreams. We had arrived on graduation day and got to see all of the students presented with certificates and awarded in front of the community. However, before the ceremony started David wanted to host a chat with both the parents and the teachers. This was the first time Pasos Adelante was implemented in Pilpichaca, and as a result many of the adults had difficulty understanding why the program was important. They had only been peripherally involved in the program, and David hoped that by hosting an activity with them he could get them excited for the next round.

I was in the team scheduled to talk with the teachers. I had an hour to plan with three other volunteers and one language supervisor. We decided to open with a brief description of the Peace Corps and an icebreaker. We’d then follow up with a discussion of Pasos Adelante and describe the program’s goals and course material. We then hoped to make the teachers understand that the Pasos Adelante graduates were a great resource for them and that these students could be used to facilitate discussions that many adults found uncomfortable. Next we’d host two activities. The first would be a brainstorming activity where the teachers would try to think of ways they could support their new peer educators. At the same time, two peer educators would be chosen to write down ways they wanted teachers to support them. We’d then compare and contrast the lists and come up with an action plan. As a final activity, we’d break the teachers into teams and give each team a different scenario:

1)    You notice that a student who is normally very active and participatory in class is becoming more and more withdrawn. After several days, you find that this student rarely says anything at all. How would you use a peer educator to approach this student and discover what is wrong?

2)    After class you notice two of your students drinking behind a building. How will you use a peer educator to approach them and discourage the use of alcohol?

3)    While at school, you overhear two female students talking about their boyfriends. They say that their boyfriends are ready to have sex, but they don’t want to use condoms. What do you do, and how do you use a peer educator to approach this issue?

The teachers would have to come up with a solution and then present it to the entire group. We’d then finish with a summary and time for questions.

Like everything within the Peace Corps, things didn’t go 100% according to plan. I was in charge of facilitating the brainstorming activity, which, of course, proved to be our trouble spot. When the teachers started filing into the room, I was told that the peer educators were late in arriving. As a result, there was no way we’d be able to obtain any opinions from the kids and compare and contrast two lists of ideas. My activity was shot. So, I had to come up with something on the fly. On the spur of the moment, I decided to turn my brainstorming activity into a discussion. I started by opening with a question: “What responsibilities do you think peer educators have within your community?” We then talked about the student’s role as a role model and how they had the ability to talk candidly with fellow students and promote healthy behavior. Next I asked, “What difficulties do you think peer educators will face as they fulfill this role?” After a pause, the teachers began to talk about peer pressure and other social obstacles teenagers might face at school that would cause them to abandon their duties. Finally, I finished with, “Knowing this, how do you think you, as an experienced adult, can support your peer educators and give them the help they need?” The pause was slightly longer this time, but gradually the teachers began to talk about how they could advise their students and give them the facilities they needed if they wanted to host discussions or educational sessions after school. By the end of the session, we could tell that the teachers were slowly starting to realize the importance of Pasos Adelante and the role of their new peer educators. Likewise, the other group had equal success after talking with the parents. By the end of their activity, not only did the parents want to enroll their other kids in the program, but they also wanted to start and adult version of Pasos Adelante to teach them how to talk about sex and other sensitive topics with their children. Needless to say, David is going to have quite a bit of work ahead of him.

We left Wednesday in the late morning at 11:00. I tearfully said goodbye to my hot shower and got onto the bus for a three-hour drive. We stopped in Chincha, Lima for a brief lunch before we headed back on the road. We were dropped off in Lima and afterwards I took a taxi back home. I arrived at 8:30.

I absolutely loved my time in Huancavelica. Although the work was extremely hard, I fell in love with the small towns, the beautiful mountains, the crisp air, and the friendly people. I would consider myself very lucky to have a site similar to Ally’s or David’s. Fortunately for me, I won’t have to wait much longer to find out. Today the directors are meeting to discuss the placements and by tomorrow I’ll know in which province I’ll be stationed. I’ll keep you all posted!

Adaptation

It’s hard to believe I’ve been in Peru for a month. One month…that’s five weeks into my pre-service training. Officially, I’m now at the halfway point. Only five more weeks to go until I go to my final site, where I’ll be stationed for the next two years. Looking back on these past five weeks, it’s amazing how surreal it all seems. On the one hand, I can’t believe how fast it’s going. It seems like it was only yesterday that I got of the plane in Lima and moved into my new home here in Chaclacayo. On the other hand, each day has felt like a month unto itself. I’ve been kept so incredibly busy that it feels as if a day lasts far longer than 24 hours. I’ve learned much more than one should in just five short weeks.

As we, the volunteers, reflected on our one-month milestone, we did an analysis of our strengths and weaknesses. Of course everyone was different, but surprisingly we found that we all had several strengths in common. However, by far the most widely shared attribute amongst the volunteers was adaptability. As I look back on my own five-week experience in Peru, I’d have to say that my time here has been marked by continuous adaptation. I’m constantly learning how to adjust not only my routines, but also my outlooks in order to fit into my own personal niche within Peru’s culture. Sometimes this is remarkably easy; on other occasions, it’s completely exhausting.

I should mention that, at times, there has been no need to adapt at all. I’ve been able to loudly display my American cultural identity and continue with the habits I strongly enjoyed while in the US. As many of you may know, I’m an avid baker. There is nothing that gives me greater joy than to bake some sort of treat and then share it with others. Before arriving in Peru, I had resigned myself to the fact that I would likely be going on a two-year baking hiatus and wouldn’t even see a cupcake tin in a very, very long time. I’ve since learned that that’s not the case at all. To my great surprise, I discovered that there are ovens in both my homestay family’s kitchen and within the training center. As a result, I got to surprise my host sister with a big tray of fresh brownies on her birthday and treat the volunteers that live in my neighborhood to spiced apple cake on our one-month anniversary. Besides baking, there is one other area in which I’ve been able to strongly display my American culture – the presidential debates. The training center has been buzzing as we all crowd around our public mailbox, as excited as kids at Christmas, waiting to receive and open our absentee ballots. One of the volunteers went so far as to arrange a live viewing of the first presidential debate at a local karaoke bar. Let me tell you, I have never felt as American as I did in that bar. We filled the place to the brim and sat on whatever we could find, nibbled salchichas, the equivalent of Peruvian French fries, tossed back watered-down beer, and cheered and booed as Romney and Obama hashed it out on the bar’s TV. Not only have moments like these kept me sane, but they have also been a wonderful way to share myself with my new Peruvian friends. After all, one of the purposes of the Peace Corps is to build friendships and show others what American culture is truly like.

Although I’ve been able to showcase my own cultural background, most of my time has been dedicated to learning how to adapt. Peru has it’s own quirks and rhythms that are starkly different to anything I’ve yet encountered. In order to truly connect with those around me, I have to learn to embrace them. While there are many examples I could give you, I’m just going to highlight the top three:

1. Food and meal times - Food is extremely important to Peruvian culture. Peruvians have great pride in their myriad of dishes, so much so that to refuse food or to openly display dislike for a particular meal is considered insulting. While it’s never been difficult for me to embrace different cuisines, it has been very challenging to adjust to the Peruvian eating schedule. Breakfasts are typically very early and are small meals, normally nothing more than bread with avocado and cheese or a cup of milk with an egg. Lunch is by far the largest meal and is normally served in two courses. However, it’s typically eaten around 2:00. Dinner is also small and is served around 7:30-8:00. For those of you who know me, I usually have large breakfasts and have small meals every four or so hours. That doesn’t fly here. I’ve had to learn how to manage snacking in order to survive the 6-8 hour gaps between meals and not overeat when it’s finally time for lunch or dinner.
2. Modes of communication – In the US when I needed to send a quick note to a friend or ask a simple question, I always used texts or Facebook to get in touch. Very rarely did I  pick up the phone and actually call someone or go out of my way to find them and talk with them directly. With limited access to internet and restricted phone minutes, that style of communicating is no longer a viable option. Instead, I have to make full-one phone calls for every little thing, even if it’s just to ask someone when a homework assignment is due. Also, rather than hassle with crappy mobile service, it is often just easier to walk 10-15 minutes to that person’s house and invite myself in to chat. Stranger still, long-distance communication is not done through emails, but actual full-blown letters. That’s right. SNAIL MAIL. I know this new insight of mine may seem juvenile and silly to many of you. However, since coming to Peru I’ve realized just how much of a crutch technology has played on my life. I’ve come to rely on my computer and my cell phone rather than actually making the effort to truly converse with others. As a result, I’m finding that many of the “conversations” I had with people in the US were merely tangential and were not relationship building at all. Here in Peru, I’ve been almost bombarded by deep conversation. The quality of my interactions with others has skyrocketed since my arrival here and I’m finding that building trust and friendship is far easier than I imagined it would be.
3. Tremors – No, not that crappy sci-fi movie about burrowing, man-eating space worms. I mean earthquakes. Peru is situated right over a fault line, so tremors are quite common here. Tremors are typically gentle and only get as high as a 4.0 on the Richter scale. Earthquakes are normally defined when the tremors reach a score of 6.0-7.0 or higher and are quite rare. Despite this fact, when you walk around town or even within our own training center you’ll normally see several plaques stationed around that deem the area to be a seismic safe zone. So far I’ve only felt one tremor and believe me, it was kind of freaky. After Pamela’s birthday party I went to bed rather late. As I was lying in bed trying to will myself to fall asleep, I suddenly heard this deep, profound rumbling. As the sound started to build, all of the dogs started to go crazy. Now, there are a TON of dogs in my neighborhood. My analogy is that pigeons are to New York City as dogs are to my neighborhood in Peru. So when I say that all of the dogs started to bark like mad, you’ll understand why I started to get concerned. That’s when I started to feel my bed jiggle. It wasn’t rough, just a mild shaking like someone had turned on one of those massage chairs. I climbed out of bed and stood awkwardly in my doorway trying to decide what I should do. My first tremor! Was I supposed to stash myself under the table? Flee the house? Duck and hide in a corner? Just then my mom popped her head out of her room and groggily told me, “Lyndsey don’t worry. This is nothing. Go back to bed.” And that was that.

Other times, adaptation has not been the best option. That is to say, there are certain aspects of Peruvian life and culture that are particularly difficult for me personally. If I try to adapt to them, I will either experience a decrease in health or in personal happiness. On the other hand, if I ignore them or try to impose my own culture, I could risk offending someone. In these cases, it is best to search for a loophole or some way to sneak around the cultural norms. As an example, I’ll once again turn to food.

As I stated before, rejecting food here in Peru is equivalent to rejecting a person or their culture. So, any issue you may have with the Peruvian diet must be handled with extreme care and sensitivity. This has proven to be quite a challenge to all of the volunteers. Before I came to Peru, I was vegetarian. Even when I started introducing animal products back into my diet to prepare for my Peace Corps service, my meals mostly consisted of fruits and veggies. Peruvian diet, although rich in flavors and spices, is a very meat and carb-heavy. Every meal has at least two or three starches and sometimes consists entirely of rice and potatoes. You are very lucky when you’re given a salad of tomatoes and cucumbers. Raw veggies are very, very rarely consumed here and, when vegetables are served, they’re often put in a creamy sauce or mixed in with more rice or potatoes. I want to make it clear that I love my host mom’s cooking. Everything tastes delicious, but when I’d open my lunch box to see that over half of it was full of rice I’d want to cry. When a nutritionist came and spoke to our volunteer group, she said that due to the typical Peruvian diet, female volunteers on average gain about 15 lbs during their first months of service. We were stunned. After an awkward silence, immediately all of the women in our group voiced a universal “OH HELL NO” and decided to act. We immediately came up with plans to work with our host families and gently but firmly coax them to include more vegetables in our diet. As for me, I tried a wide variety of strategies:

Tactic 1 – reduce the rice: “Oh my gosh mom my food was delicious today! You’re such a good cook! But because of all that rice, I couldn’t finish all of it and I wanted to sooooooo badly. Is there any way next time I could have half as much rice? I want to eat more of what you cook and I hate wasting all that food.”

Tactic 2 – increase the veggies: “I love Peruvian food! All of my friends back home are super excited that I’m learning how to cook Peruvian dishes. They can’t wait to try it too. The thing is, lots of them are vegetarian and don’t eat chicken either (Note to readers: Here vegetarian means that you don’t eat meat. Meat, according to Peruvians, just means read meat. So, according to them chicken is still fair game. If you are a strict vegetarian, be prepared to explain over and over again that you also DO NOT eat chicken). Could you please include more vegetable-based dishes in my lunch and dinner so I can have an idea what to make them when I get back to the States?”

Tactic 3 – over emphasize: “Today’s food was great! The chicken was delicious but OH MY GOSH THAT BROCCOLI! That BROCCOLI was the best thing I’ve ever had. It is my FAVORITE VEGETABLE OF ALL TIME. I love BROCCOLI! Do you eat BROCCOLI often here? We should eat more BROCCOLI! BROCCOLI BROCCOLI BROCCOLI!!!!”

Tactic 4 – portion size control part 1 (Note to readers: Normally the mother of the family serves everyone’s plate when meals are held at home. Dishes are not put in bowls on the table and there is no “self-service” like in the US. She takes the plates to the kitchen and brings them back full of food.):  “Oh mom let me do that. You always work so hard and have cooked such a delicious meal. I insist that you rest and let me serve everyone today. Please sit at the table and I’ll bring everything out.”

Tactic 5 – portion size control part 2: “Look what I bought at the market today! This tiny plate is EXACTLY like the one I used every night at home. I know it’s smaller than the others but it reminds me so much of home. Can I please use this when we dinner? I promise if I’m still hungry I’ll go back for seconds.”

Overall, these tactics have more or less worked. I’ve gotten a lot more fruits and veggies in my meals, but I’m still getting far more carbohydrates than I would like. I won’t get into the nitty-gritty details, but lets just say I’m eating prunes like it’s my job and so far I haven’t seen any results. So, time for more strategies.

In order to decrease the burden of grocery shopping on my family, I’ve bought my own stockpile of fruits and veggies that I keep in the fridge at the training center. That way if I get hungry during class, I can grab a handful of celery and not feel bloated and guilty. Also, before I leave the house each morning I secretly stash my rice in a ziplock back to give to Boñita. Boñita is the poor, homeless black dog that lives on my street. I have no idea what her real name is, but I’ve named her Boñita, which means “beautiful” in Spanish. She is super sweet and gentle, but she’s emaciated. I can count every bone on her body and my heart breaks every times I see her. I figure she needs the carbs much more than I do, so every morning I sneak over to her and let her have my rice and any extra carbs I may have. Lastly, I’ve been keeping very rigorous exercise schedules. In the mornings I do weight training with my exercise bands and in the evenings I do some cardio. On Mondays Pablo, one of the Spanish teachers at the training center, leads an hour-long Zumba session after class. Tuesdays through Thursdays are our Insanity workouts. Yes that’s right. Insanity. Have you seen those ridiculous infomercials on TV? The ones where obscenely fit people jump around and sweat like crazy while screaming dim-witted things like, “This workout is INSAAAAAAAANE!!!!!”?  Yea I thought they were stupid too (if you really want to see the entire corny infomercial click here). Well, after our nutritionist gave us a wake-up-call, suddenly the Insanity workouts looked much more appealing. Luckily for us, one of the volunteers had the entire program on her laptop. Now three days a week I do anywhere between 35-50 minutes of the most intense cardio I’ve ever done in my life. Fridays I either do another Zumba class or I wake up early to do a cardio workout on the neighborhood staircases. Then to top it all off, to get home I walk 20-30 minutes up a long, steep hill to get to my house. If that doesn’t keep those 15 lbs at bay I don’t know what will.

                       

So as you can see, I’ve had a life of adaptation. As a result, I’ve learned so much, not only about Peru but also about myself as well. I’ve learned that I can push myself farther than I thought I could and that there are sides of me that I didn’t know even existed. I’ve learned how to love Peru and it’s people and how to make a new life for myself here. I’ve learned when to sacrifice and when not to let go. I’m just one month in, but already it’s felt like a year. So cheers, everyone, to a wonderful first month. Here’s to hoping that the next five weeks will be equally as adventurous and that I’ll continue to adapt and thrive.