Sunday Sports

My day woke up at 7:30 a.m. It's Sunday, I'm in the Peace Corps. This isn't a usual occurence. I knew it was time to wake up but it's Sunday so I snoozed three to four times. That's when the knock came. It was well deserved, I'll admit. It was Marco, my host brother--<> I responded that, yeah, I'd be up in a bit, but I was only going to the game to watch, as they sure as hell didn't want me to actually play for the soccer team. They've seen me play soccer, and I've seen them play soccer—there's a talent gap the size of the department of Ancash.

Marco assured me that they lacked players. Well, I hadn't played organized soccer for nine years, but for sure I'm better than an empty position.

With this news, I pushed out of bed, turned on Arcade Fire to psyche me up and went in for breakfast in my scrubs—Matthew, this was the best gift ever. My host family was already eating breakfast (or for all I know lunch, they get up really early some days), my host-mom invited me to some Quinua which I accepted. I usually cook for myself (stomach reasons), but Quinua is delicious and good for you.

We headed over for the first game of the day—the 8 Oclock Game. Now remember, it's rainy season here in Ancash. The “field” would best be described as a gigantic mud bath with a few patches of overgrown grass here and there. Not thinking I would be on an official soccer team during my Peace Corps service, I left my cleats in Vermont. Having a size 12 shoe, I can not buy cleats in my entire department (I'm told they sell my size in Lima...). So there I was with my New Balance shoes (thanks Dad), ready to hit the field. I declined being put in goal (this is a good way to be culturally embarrased as I've learned before), and they put me at mid-field.

In the first five minutes I remembered that soccer is hard and requires a LOT of running. I held my own, took a forty yard header in style, ran up and down the field, tried to kick the ball really hard, fell down, pushed some smaller players around, beat my high school student for a ball, etc. By then it was 8:30, and the late-comers arrived, and I was pulled from the game, a decision I was ok with—the game ended as any riveting soccer match does 0-0. Team Cocha, our neighborhood should have beat the other neighborhood, but we couldn't put any goals in unfortunately. The league is inter-barrio where neighborhood teams play other neighborhood teams. Next week we're playing Cocha South, which is apparently like the Yankees-Red Sox Rivalry of inter-barrio play.

After the tie, we headed to the volley-ball court to watch the blue/red team (I forget their name) upset Puncu in 3 sets. After the game I headed home (a 2 minute walk, like everything here) cause it was time for my Sunday Run. Running in rural, traditional Perú is always fun. You basically just decide that you're doing it, and even if your showing more leg than usually gets showed in a week here, you're gonna enjoy yourself. Today I ran to the Virgen of Anta, a decent outing, passing sheep, pigs, angry dogs, sleeping dogs, and plenty of workers and people enjoying their Sunday. The whole way I have a view of Huascaran, the tallest mountain of Perú—not a bad deal...

After the run it was time to prepare my fruit for the week, a new tradition I'm trying to start—here for fruit peals to go down my stomach successfully, they need to be submerged in a diluted bleach solution—it's a decently long process, but then you eat an apple at the end and it's cool.

In the afternoon, as if I hadn't enough sports, we decided to pull out the old Pig Skin (thanks Mom and Dad). I taught Marco and Eladio (my other host brother) how to throw it, then we headed down to the soccer field—which by the afternoon (we got lucky w/ no rain today) had dried and looked somewhat like a soccer field. Finally I got to show off my sport skills, and I wasn't the gringo falling down on the soccer field, I was the gringo throwing the football thirty yards (just like Aaron Rodgers—shout out Packers!). Some students came by and we taught them, and by the end they were throwing it pretty well. I think we're a couple years off from creating an inter-barrio US football league.

And that's basically a Sunday in Peace Corps, I came home had a dinner w/ my host family, talked with my host mom for a bit and here I am, ready for bed—if I'm getting up before eight, I'm definitely going to bed around eight. In my last blog I talked about my specific job—in Peace Corps (for those who didn't grow up w/ a PC dad and then brother)--there are three goals—1 is the work you do in the community, the other two are sharing United States Culture, and learning Peruvian Culture to bring back to share in the US. Today was a goal 2+3 day. Tomorrow, I'm back teaching computer skills to 5-8 year olds.

Happy Valentine's Day—and Feliz Día de la Amistad (here's it's Friendship Day). So to all my friends back home—have a great one.

Your Friend in Ancash,

John William

Useful Vacations: 200 Soles, 300+ Students

Just back from Jeshú my barber—as I wrote Katherine, I'm now ready for my transfer from the Peace to Marine Corps.

I realized y'all haven't had an update in some time, and I know that makes Jean mad, so here goes nothing.

What have I been up to in Ancash in 2011? Useful Vacations. As Youth Development Volunteers, one of our jobs is to organize “Vacaciones Útiles.” For many people in very small communities this involves teaching English or Computers to 20-40 students by themselves. In Jangas, it's a little bigger, but its budget is about the same as these other, smaller Vacaciones Utiles: 0.

To start planning Vacaciones, in early January, we met with the new Alcalde (mayor) and his Regidores (city councilmen?) to plan out these here Vacaciones. In the past the town has usually focused their Vacaiones on sports and maybe a little theatre. After doing surveys, I found the kids really wanted to study—math, computers, and even English.

After pitching our academic plan for the Vacaciones to the Alcalde, everyone loved it. The only problem was the old Alcalde left town (he didn't actually live in Jangas) leaving the budget with 200 Soles (3 Soles/$1).

But remember, like I've always said, when life gives you 200 Soles, make Vacaciones Utiles. My host-cousing Cabo and I sat down to start planning things. Basing our estimates on pure guesses, and previous participation, we figured two sections of primary and two sections of secondary would be sufficient, and we'd probably need 3-4 classrooms at the colegio. This was dubbed fortunate cause the principal only wanted to give us 2 classrooms and the computer classroom.

So we opened “Matricula,” advertising with the local media—radio, t.v, posters, word of mouth, intimidation of my favorite students jk, etc. We opened registration up on Monday and had maybe 20 or so registrees—Not bad. Then Tuesday came, another 30 or 40 more, and then I started to do math and got worried. By the end, including our pre-school (meets Tues and Thurs) we had well over 300 students signed up for our Vacaciones Utiles.

Instead of two sections of primary, we opened up six sections, and instead of 2 classes and the computer lab, we now have 8 classes and the computer lab (woops). Now we just had to find teachers—as Cabo is the most laid back human being on the planet, he told me not to worry, and I did my best not to.

In the end, as somehow he always does, Cabo found the teachers. Our teachers range from myself to two German volunteers, to 1 ex-alcalde, to several professional teachers, and workers from the Municipality. Outside the workers from the Municipality, everyone is a volunteer. It is truly an impressive effort from the community.

In the first few weeks, scheduling and teachers having scheduling conflicts lead to some confusion—when you go in in the morning you literally could end up teaching English to 16 year olds or health practices to 7 year olds, no importa. But learning by doing is always the best way to learn, so we didn't fret too much.

Classes for the students range from: Mathematical Reasonal, Verbal Reasoning, English, Computer skills, Art, Physical Education, and on Fridays we have Health lectures from the Puesto de Salud.

We're halfway through Vacaciones and I'm really proud of the work we're doing. In fact, our main problem so far has been the fact that Februrary is Carnival month, and thus most of the kids bring water balloons to school with them—an unanticipated occurence. We're going to plan a more organized water balloon day, where Prof. John plans to take his revenge out on those that have not listened about our water balloon policy during Vacaiones.

Excitingly enough, Vacaciones isn't the only project that is getting going. Recently we started Movie Night on Friday Nights so teenagers have something to do, we're getting a teenage volunteer group going, and we're hoping to start Youth Health Promoters in March or April.

Anyway, I know this blog entry lacked in the humor department—don't worry, I plan to start trying some of the Quechua I learned in my recent classes—and this is bound to land me in some funny situations.

Furthermore, I figured it's getting into tax season, so you mine as well know what a sliver of your tax dollars are currently doing in Jangas, Perú. (We're also celebrating Peace Corps' 50th Anniversary at the Ambassador's house in Lima in March—so thanks for that too :).

Much Love de Ancash,

John William

PS: The author would like to remind readers that calling him at 948-767-830 is very possible and cheap through Google Talk.

Picture Credit: The 99% Completed World Map.

An Ode to Peace Corps Friends

The song thing just keeps working for me... Again, I suggest listening to the song at the same time, this time it being the Friends Theme Song by the Rembrants.

Katherine--you'll appreciate this, Duffy, please allow me to still be a groomsman, I know this is lame, and I don't even want to know what genre it would get it my itunes--btw, I still have those genres, so I know to find my Chamillionare songs under "rap for people who hate rap."

Anyway, life continues here in Ancash where we're doing Vacaiones Utiles, and coming soon to Jangas, Movie Night for Teenagers :).

Un Abrazo, from a slightly lame, but confident author.


So no one told you Peace Corps'd be this way
Your job's a joke, your map just got wrote
Your love life's during regional meetings

It's like you're always stuck going second
When it hasn't been your día, semana, first three months or even your first year med checks

Yeah, But I'll be there for you, when the rainy seasons starts
I'll be there for you, like I was during training
I'll be there for you, cause there's nothing else to do

You're still in bed at 10, when colegio started at 8
Your breakfast's quacker and bread, so far things are going great
Your host mother warned you to lower your head
But you forgot how low the ceiling was, and you just smacked your brain

And

I'll be there for you, when the rainy season ends
I'll be there for you, cause we both have RPM*
I'll be there for you cause what else is there?

No one could ever dance like me
No one could ever sing like you
Seems we're the only Youth Volunteers in Ancash
Someone to face the day with, make it through the two years with
Someones we'll always laugh with
Even in the campo, it's better w/ y'all, yeah

It's like you're always stuck in the principal's office
Whether she hasn't accepted your project, idea, plan or even your solicitud

I'll be there for you, when the cipro cycle starts
I'll be there for you, cause we're practically site mates
I'll be there for you cause the combis just down the road

do do do do

I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you, I'll be there for you, cause we're all here together.


*Our Cell phone plan where PCVs talk free to each other

¡Vamos!: The Meyer Family 2010-2011 Trip to Perú

There is really no way I can do my family's Peruvian trip justice. It included the three parts of Perú: Costa, Sierra y Selva. It included three families, the Meyer one, the Romani-Cruzes, and the Cueva Huamlianos, it included two Christmas plays, it included two types of sickness, altitude and the other, it included acetazolamid and pepto bizmal, it included nights out, and nights dog-tired in, Spanish and Quechua, Inca trails and fear of heights. Most of all it included people, and what those people from various countries and cultures left behind are memories.

To better organize my thoughts (I've had complaints about this in the past—Matthew!)--I again turn to the world of music with a new rendition on the 12 days of Christmas.

On the first day of Christmas, three members of the Meyer family arrived to the Lima Airport—Thanks a lot Duffy for the free night in the Marriot—one of the nicest hotels in Lima was certainly easy for a Peace Corps Volunteer to beat in quality for the remainder of the trip. Ask Katherine, it only got better after that :).

On the second day of Christmas the Meyer family took a 3 hour taxi ride, risking their lives and crossing a total of 20 miles w/ our fearless entrepreneur taxista York. Remember, Lima is host to how many people? 9 Million—Perú's population around 28-30 mill. Dad also touched a five hundred year old bone in the Catacombs in the San Franciscan Church.

On the third day of Christmas, we ate an international barbecue and played Old Maid with my host family in Yanacoto.

On the fourth day of Christmas, Matthew punched into Colombian air-space a little late. Waiting for his arrival, we picnicked and traveled back to Lima with trusty York.

On the fifth day of Christmas the Meyer family started to suffer from Altitude sickness.

On the sixth day of Christmas, we visited the Carhuaz Market.

On the seventh day of Christmas, those that were not suffering from Altitude sickness visited glacial lakes. Later, Matthew, Kyle and I ate Pannetone and Chocolate, and then were served turkey, and danced late into the night (in that exact order).

On the eighth day of Christmas (Noche Buena)--Those not suffering from being in Perú, went to the Christmas Plays and Mass. We first watched Mary searching for a hotel in Jangas with her donkey, sat through what must have been a 6 hour mass, and after much ado, arrived at the main event. Jangas has a 50 year tradition of acting out a Dali-surrealist Christmas Play.

I acted in the minor (and unimportant) part of “Rey Caballero” affectionately referred to as “Rey Gringo.” The play made little sense, but included a great scene of fireworks. Dad, either having no fear of the fireworks, or no desire to get out of his comfortable seat at 11:30 at night, stood his ground as the special effects started whizzing by his head and the rest of the town retreated.

On the ninth day of Christmas, dad lost his pants, and it took an hour to get them back. We all ate guinea-pig (poor little bastards, not a great Christmas for them—the serving is usually 2 people/pig) with my wonderful host family. We then went out to a Curry Meal for Christmas dinner with my Ancash Peace Corps friends and loaded up on a mid-night bus. Incredibly, after the guinea pig and curry, everyone slept pretty well in the 10,000 foot descent to Lima.

On the tenth day of Christmas we arrived in Cusco to our lovely hostile where we were rained on inside and chomped on by beg bugs.

On the eleventh day of Christmas the Inka Jungle Trail tour began. We biked for three hours in freezing cold, until it was hot and then we got bug bites.

On the twelfth day of Christmas—We ALL risked our lives on a 3 foot wide trail that had a 1000 foot drop. The rest of the family witnessed our patronizing guide (chicos) explain an ancient Incan ceremony on a 5 foot “wide” ledge, while the other guide took me the hell down.

Katherine, Matthew and I finished a 12 KM pilgrimage by foot to Santa Teresa—the goal always being just around the next Mountain.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas we all walked for 20 Kilometers. After the trek, Matthew and I relaxed in the world famous hot baths of “Aguas Calientes” where we enjoyed the green water, smell of urine, forty five other people in the bath, and middle-aged men who hit on us.

On the fourteenth day of Christmas we woke up at 4 a.m. and made it to Maccu Piccu in the early morning rains. Here we enjoyed one of the great Wonders of the Worlds, feeling very lucky to have this opportunity.

On the fifteenth day of Christmas—After stealthing our bags out of the beg-bug hostile of a few days ago, we stayed at the “Niños” hotel—a beautiful place. We woke up, and headed to Lima. Where I imagine Katherine, Mom and Dad passed out for most of the day.

Matthew and I went out, celebrated New Years at a discoteca on my cell phone (count downs are not big here—remember what I had said about time here?--instead of countdowns, here the tradition instead is to burn old clothes and to wear new Yellow Underwear).

At 2:30 a.m. we went back to our hostal, where the family party was raging, and we were promptly fed, rice, potatoes and a half turkey each. At three thirty we passed out in our beds to blaring Cumbia Music.

After all this excitement, I am back in Jangas, more in love with Perú than ever, and more grateful than ever for the Romani-Cruz and Cueva Huamliano families—but especially feeling blessed for my membership in the Meyer family. What other family lets their 22 year old plan an entire trip based on his and his 27 year old brother's preferences? Mom and Dad you are GOOD sports and are kicking ass well into your 40s :).

Thank you family for visiting—and if any of these adventures appeal to the other 5 people that regularly read my blog—then plan yourself a visit. You get to the Lima Airport, I (and York) will do the rest.

Just be ready for the mosquito bites, bed bugs, rainy rooms, sleeping two feet from a major highway—not like any of these things matter, as we'll be together, and you probably won't sleep that much anyway.

Nine Steps to The Making of a 40 Person Thanksgiving

Almost 400 years ago, a group of Pilgrims followed their religious beliefs to the new world. They didn't know what they'd eat, who'd they meet, or where they'd end up.

Nearly 400 hundred years later, I filled out a Peace Corps Application. I didn't know what I'd eat, who I'd meet, or where I'd go.

Within a few years, and after helping the Pocanocan (sp?) tribe sucessfully massacre one of their enemy tribes (I've been watching History Channel's America the Story of US recently), the Pilgrims sat down to a feast with their Pocanocan allies.

After a few months of English teaching, map paitning, community diagnosing, we PCVs too would share a beautiful thanksgiving with our local friends. Fortunately, the only massacre would come in Kelsey Ward's performance in our 5K Turkey Trot (see results below).

The idea for our Thanksgiving, as I imagine the idea for the first Thanksgiving, came after a series of casual conversations. After explaining the idea of Thanksgiving to my Jangas friends, we decided this was definitely something we could and should do. As much as I complain about Perú's potatoes, their abundance and low price certainly helped come Thanksgiving. Quickly the event picked up speed.

I'm not sure if the Native Americans ran into the same problem, but fuck it's easy to invite people! After extending more invitations than I had money, I realized that with Peace Corps Volunteers and community members, we were looking at a dinner for around 50 people. Woops.

Quickly Beth Methink and I (both with strong Wisconsin routes) started planning the food:

For those planning a Thanksgiving dinner for 50 people I recommend the following items:

-18 Kilos of Sierra Potatoes
-12 Kilos of Apples
-12 Kilos of Sweet Potatoes
-A few kilos of Broccoli, Green Beans, Onions, Carrots, Celery
-2 8 Kilo Turkeys
-An Adobe Oven the size of a small church
-Lots of community friends including host-brother Marco, and host cousin Cabo
-16 Peace Corps Volunteers, including Ian Arzeni, Elke and Christopher Huey
-Paciencia y Flexibilidad

This planning was all fine and good, but just like the first American Pilgrims, just crossing the ocean wasn't enough—we wanted a real challenge.

Why not have the community Thanksgiving Feast on the same day we plan a 5K? In a casual conversation (I need to start paying more attention to these) Beth mentioned that she ran a 5 K every Thanksgiving. This conversation quickly turned into about a month of race planning. Solicitudes were written to petition police to secure the route, the health post was asked to accompany with an ambulance, prizes were requisitioned, clean water and bananas were purchased, tv advertisements were made, t-shirts were printed, English classes were invited, decisions were made, arguments were had, and chalk for arrows were laid. All this for the 5K? (calculated it was actually only 2.8 miles)--the First Annual GRAN MARATÓN DE JANGAS at about 10,000 Feet above Sea Level.
So after a month of planning, there we stood on Saturday Nov. 27, 15 Peace Corps Volunteers, 8 “host country partners” (to use PC jargon), ready to start The GRAN Maratón de Jangas. At 9:30 (about half an hour past the race's scheduled start—right on time in Perú), the Ambulance beeped its horn, and after I reminded people that the beep was actually the race's starting gun, we were off.

Not affected by the altitude, Kelsey Ward a La Libertad volunteer who lives at sea level won the female category. A guy from Yungar, the town over smoked all the guys from Jangas and the States. Three continents were represented—our NGO friend Dominic from Germany also ran. In other categories about ten or fifteen kids ages 6-14 also competed in the race. We then awarded the prizes —which included Cristal Beer shirts donated by the local Catholic church.

After the race's excitement, we quickly turned our attention to cooking. If the Peace Corps teaches you one thing, it's that by taking advantage of your local resources anything is possible. Having no real cooking skills, and after making my applesauce the night before, I served as the decider. My job was to help people solve their problems—which involved mostly telling people that we didn't have the necessary cooking utensil, and then letting them come up with a creative way around it.

Throughout the day I was asked questions about whether we had a whisk (we didn't, but could forks work?), could we put the turkey in before 2 o'clock (we couldn't, but we can eat later), does our town have apple juice (no, but why not borrow a neighbor's juicer to squeeze two kilos of apples?), did we have a pie crust (nope, but how about a frying pan with metal handles?), a rolling pin (why not a nalgene water bottle?) etc and etc. Without a pumpkin pie can mix, PCV Claire had her mom send her the recipe for pumpkin pie made with real pumpkins. Claire diligently copied down all 9 steps, including the ninth—ENJOY. Those pies were damn good.

At about 9 p.m., after delivering a very corny speech about the first Thanksgiving to explain to all our Peruvian friends why we had spent the day preparing sweet potatoes, garlic mashed potatoes, stuffing, turkey, applesauce, fresh broccoli, fresh vegetables served with a pineapple reduction (I told you anything was possible—thanks Ian), apple pies, pumpkin pies, and banana pudding—we all (about 40 people in all) sat down to enjoy the feast.

After enjoying the food we moved onto a tradition we just couldn't share—the great American tradition of dancing in a goofy circle instead of what to us is awkward Peruvian one-on-one dancing. For the rest of the night 15 of my good Peruvian friends watched us make asses out of ourselves dancing the shopping cart, the sprinkler, and anything else that was popular in the late 90s. Maybe next year.

At midnight we passed out, tired from running and dancing, and full.

As the shirts we made say (and the Pilgrims who first arrived some 400 years ago in America would have made), “Fuck Me, Nothing's Easy.” But sometimes it's not about where you're going, it's about enjoying what you're eating, where you are, and most importantly who you're with.

T*I*P

Dear Poor Blog Followers,

This week is the final week to finish up my community Diagnostic, which means I have procrastinated majorly, and have written a blog entry to the tune of K'Naan's T.I.A (This is Africa). Naturally it's called, T.I.P, (This is Perú). I promise, it is probably my last music venture for the two years. The rhymes don't all match, but if you know the song (and I highly suggest it, and HIGHLY SUGGEST you listen to TIA at the same time as reading this blog entry), it will make a moderate amount of sense.

Happy Early Thanksgiving to everyone, I love you all and hope you enjoy, will try to get a foodie-blog up for the big day.


T.I.P. By John William Meyer, Original Lyrics by K'Naan

I hope you got your passports, and cipro pills

I take families (and friends) on a visit anyday

They never eaten real guinea pig anyway

I know way all the volunteers and cheers say

Welcome to the moderate-sized town we call Jangas

Well students is paying attention likes it's Tuesday

Ah Youth from the Hood huh who say?

My segundo students will tell you how to algebra

My cuarto students are quick to grab the paint brush

Around here we make the middle-aged women blush

Colegio to Health Post in a Rush

So we don't really give a fuck about your excuses

This is Perú Hurray

TIP, Hurray, TIP, Hurray, TIP, Hurray

It means This is Perú, Hurray

You don't know how rainy it is here

The streets is cement in these parts here

You don't how crammed it is in here

There's twenty-two people in this combí here

You don't know how uncomfortable it can get here

I live with a random family in these parts here

You don't how dirty I am here

The town hasn't had water in a month here

Let's Go.

I walk with nurses up to Jahua ANYDAY

I've got nothing else to do ANYWAY

I know all the donkey trails here

Welcome to the continent of corruption

Where Fujimori used budgets as bank accounts

Where Peace Corps leaves quickly if a Chavez-ista gets won

No Internet
But many Volley Nets

With the cats and guinea pigs running all around the rooms these days

I deliver what they need like sex-ed lectures

I learned from the deadly streets of Middlebury, no regrets

And I wasn't ever looking for extra cred

But those streets bred me to volunteer

It's no secret we know how to speak Spanish

But Peace Corps sent me to a Quechua site

Used to be advanced, now I'm a beginner

And I read a lot cause I'm bored

When I walk through the streets like Shaquille O'neil

little children say ¡Hola Jhon!

The Jangas game just got itself a new gringo

This is Perú, Hurray

TIP, Hurray, TIP, Hurray, TIP, Hurray

It Means This is Perú

You don't know how rainy it is here

The streets is muddy in these parts here

You don't how confusing it gets here

I don't speak both languages in these parts here

You don't know how loud it can get here

There are a lot of religious festivals in these parts here

You don't how fun it is here

My incredibly vague job is to work with youth in these parts here

Ha, it's Profe Jhon. This is Perú. Ka-ka-ka-boom

¡Read it From the Bottom Up!

First off have you read the list yet? If not, look at the title again! Ok, enough me being a tool, in all honesty, this list are some of the funnier aspects of my life. I really do love it here, lots of great friends, and the culture is absolutely beautiful, with amazing landscapes, beautiful languages, wonderful weavings and dress, and fun kids. The Map is almost complete, and I have had more support with that than I can thank, it looks great, and I'll post a picture when it's done (the one above is of a much earlier phase, but I loved the picture). Working on the Community Diagnostic, we're going to have a 5K for Thanksgiving, REAL family visiting in December (YAY) and in January we'll really hit the ground on some cool projects. In the meantime, I hope everyone is doing well, and for those of you who are looking for a more “Foodie” entry, to celebrate Thanksgiving I will do a review of Peruvian Cuisine: It will include my thoughts and experiences on and with Ceviche, Potatoes, Rice, Potatoes, Soup, Potatoes, Guinea Pig (does it really taste like chicken?—but it looks so much like a rat?), Cat, Corn, Pasta, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, Inka Cola, and Potatoes.

1a. Oh come on? You really think I'm going to end that cheesily?
Soups from Celebrations at the Colegio (School)—It will have you in the bathroom before you can say, “No Gracias.”

1. The wonderful kids. They're definitely the reason I'm in Peace Corps.

2. Punto Azul Ceviche in Lima. I swear to God, Jesus himself squeezes the Lime.

3. Host Family Arguments or Discussions in Quechua at 6 a.m.--It saves you from using an alarm clock, and occasionally can be pulled in to make your dreams weirder, as we don't have Malaria Medications to do that here.

4. “Jerga” (Slang) from My Host Brothers—My Quechua classes may not start until January, but I definitely have a leg up on most Volunteers in terms of dirty slang words.... Unfortunately most of them are not fit for publication (Sorry friends, send me an e-mail with a request, but Moms, and Harvard Professionals—although I was the one to introduce you to I'm on a Boat to you Aunt Dorreen--read this blog!).

5. Being approached by Drunks for on the spot English Lessons-- “My name is” I'm not sure at this point you could pronounce that correctly in Spanish buddy.

6. Hearing Gringo, Quechua, and then seeing Middle Aged Women giggle in my direction. Hola Chicas :).

7. My 83 Year Old Neighbor (and this one's serious) who told me she wants to see my World Map completed before she died! Technically, we are government workers, so what do you expect? I'll do the best I can Señora!

8. Writing “Solicitudes.” A Solicitud is a type of formal Peruvian Document which you need to write when you ask for a service or materials or an event space. For instance, we have to write a solicitud for help from the Police in our Thanksgiving 5 K. In the document you promise your event will not only benefit EVERY SINGLE person to the community, but there's an off-hand chance that it might cure cancer.

9. Sheep on a Roof. Where else is your sheep going to get its tan?

10. Wait China and Japan are two different countries?—This one is for you Ben Cotton—Here they call people that appear to have ancestry from China, Chinos—it's really not meant to be offensive, and by the end of my home-stay in Lima I started to do it with our amiga Carla (I know Ben, I'm sorry). Alberto Fujimori, the old thief of a President—w/ a clearly sounding Japanese name, here is to this day known as “El Chino.” I'm hoping the map helps to clear some of this issue up.

(Start Here) To all Loyal Followers: To celebrate my new charger, thank you fellow PCV Colleen Brunell, I am going to write a Top Ten List of Why I love Peru, and specifically why I love Jangas, Ancash (which is better). Some will be serious, others, will not.