Letting off some steam

Every month, the Peace Corps hosts a regional meeting for volunteers to attend. While the meetings are optional for more seasoned volunteers, the newbies are required to go for their first three months. These meetings are usually held within a regional capital and serve as a chance for volunteers to share their work, ideas, and obstacles amongst their peers and regional advisors. They are also opportunities for us to further our training, since there could be discussions concerning how to build latrines, write community diagnostics, etc. Knowing this, when I went for my first regional meeting for Lima, Ica, and Huancavelica (affectionately acronymed LICAH), I came. Toting notebooks and pencil in hand, I sat down and was ready to take notes on some sort of tech-heavy lecture.

Nope.

As soon as the meeting started, all of the new volunteers were bombarded with gifts. The older volunteers had divided themselves into groups based on their provinces, and each group gifted us something that helped them survive their first three months in site. I received everything from boxed wine to huge stocks of toilet paper to decadent chocolate. It felt like Christmas. After the introductions were finished and the social buzzing lulled back down, we moved on to the agenda. World AIDS Day was December 1^st, and many of the volunteers had organized awareness campaigns and events within their towns. We were set to spend a majority of meeting discussing the details and activities of these events. Now that I was fully energized from the several pounds of chocolate I had just eaten, I went back to my seat, ready to take notes. This is more or less how the meeting went:

“So, how was your World AIDS Day?”

“It was great! We gave out T-shirts, did lots of activities, included our health center, and had great participation.”

“Did you think it was a success?”

“Yes a great success.”

“Great! Meeting adjourned! Now let’s go party.”

Pardon?

As I got hauled out of my chair and carried off to a house party, I stammered something incredibly nerdy-sounding about note taking and training. Without missing a beat, one of the volunteers turned around and said, “Lyndsey, you need to understand something. It’s true that the LICAH group has a representation of being a bit wild and crazy. Our motto is, ‘Work hard, party hard.’ And for good reason. We have spent a month working our asses off in the God-forsaken middle of nowhere in Peru. These regional meetings are a chance for us to finally let loose and blow off some steam. If you don’t take advantage of this opportunity, connect with your fellow Peace Corps peers, and give yourself the chance to have some fun, you will go bat-shit crazy in site.”

Fair enough.

So, for the rest of the evening I played dizzy bat, cheered jello shots, and binged on good-‘ol fashioned chili and guacamole. When the house party came to a close, it was time for a bar. We went to a local favorite, a very relaxed, chill pisco bar that was equipped with an endless supply of board games. I had a wonderful time laughing, dancing, socializing, and failing miserably in Jenga with my new support group for the next two years. It was a ton of fun. However, I just couldn’t keep up. Around 3:00 AM, I finally had to bail and was amongst the first wave of people to head back to the hotel. Absolutely exhausted, I crashed sometime between 3:30-4:00.

The next morning my site mates and I had brunch with two other Huancavelica alums at a nearby café and enjoyed a rare luxury: americanos and chocolate croissants. We were heading out around 12:30 when we got a call from the LICAH group again.

“Good afternoon! Where are you?”

“….uh, just finishing up brunch.”

“Great! Well, we’re in a bar. Come over when you’re ready, ok?”

Good Lord.

After giving ourselves a couple more hours to recuperate, we went over to another bar to meet up for some more fun. Let me just say, the LICAH gang is great. They are extremely friendly, warm-hearted and just plain fun. At the end of the night, I realized just how much of a lifesaver these meetings were going to be for me. I hadn’t realized how much tension I had accumulated just after two weeks of being in site, but believe me it was there. I was able to just let go, and simply enjoy the fact that I was young, in Peru, and having the adventure of a lifetime. And, as a new friend pointed out to me, “This group of people are going to be with you in the good times and bad. No matter what happens, you will never be judged by anyone here and you won’t have to explain yourself. We will understand. My dad was a Peace Corps Volunteer and the friends he made within his region have become his lifetime friends. Trust me, we’re here to stay.”

Who could ask for more than that?