I didn't have to use my AK.

In the immortal words of the warrior-poet Ice Cube, "Today was a good day." Or in this case, yesterday.

Yesterday, I gave my first series of charlas (“talks”) in the local schools here with my amazing socio Milagros, an obstetrician who works in the local health post. The charlas were focused on teaching 11-14 year old kids about their naughty bits, the importance of safe sex and facts/myths about sex, pregnancy and STDs. Mila and I had decided that she would provide the bulk of the technical information and I would offer my knowledge of educational games and teaching strategies to reinforce what she was teaching. We opted for a game where the kids would break into two teams and would have to match words we provided them with the numbered parts of the male and female anatomy. Everytime a team would win a point, the kids would yell and pound on their desks. I can’t quite explain just how satisfying it was to say the words “rectum” and “anus” in Castellano and have both teams erupt in cheers because they got it right (they’re recto and ano respectively in case you were wondering).

After that, Mila educated the students about what each part of the anatomy did using a power point presentation she made. Then we passed out cards with myths and facts written on them about sex, pregnancy and various STDs and had the students read them aloud and say whether they were true or false, at which point Mila would offer further explanation.

We gave three 90 minute charlas rapid fire from 8 am - 12:30 pm in which Mila did most of the talking and I pulled my best Vanna White act, divvying out points and taping up the dibujos (“drawings”) of the various genitalia. I felt kind of useless not being able to assist much with disseminating the information, but my Spanish is apparently very lacking when it comes to medical terminology. Mila assured me I did fine, and informed me that one of the children had asked for the next charla to be on sexual assault. We informed the school director of what the student had asked for and are planning a charla for the end of next week.

It felt really rewarding to finally be in the schools and involved in the work I was trained to do. I’d be lying if I said it went as I had hoped and that the kids clearly seemed to be retaining all of the information, but I know the first few times will be a little awkward until I can get a better idea of my style, and regardless, I know they learned something and whatever they take away from the lesson will be better than what they had coming in.

Afterwards, I returned home for my usual humongous lunch (always fish of some sort, at least half of one, accompanied by a side of carbs, typically rice, and often lentils or soup, fresh vegetable salad and some fresh squeezed fruit juice.) Always delicious, but always coma-inducing, especially in the 80+ degree afternoon heat of the Piura “winter.”

Later I played soccer for about two hours with my awesome 13-year-old host nephew, Cesar, and his soccer team. Afterwards, the coach gave a pretty inspiring speech about an upcoming game in Piura City in a couple of weeks. He said that if his team won, they would get the chance to go on to play in Lima and train with one of the biggest teams in Perú. He painted it as an opportunity to see other parts of Perú, but stated that without discipline and respect on and off the field, a player would have little chance of success. I thanked him afterwards for his words, and he asked me to accompany the team for their game in Piura City, informing me that he thought of his team as a family and that I was now included in that family. Of course, I´ll be there.

I’m now rounding out my third week in site and it has definitely been a series of ups and downs. I’d be lying if I didn’t say the first week was by far the hardest. The full realization of what two years would entail as well as feeling the withdrawal of no Peace Corps volunteers around and no longer having an eight hour workday planned out for me made it difficult to get into the swing of things. I was pretty down for the first few days, but thanks to multiple phone calls from my fantastic volunteer friends going through the same thing, I was able to get back on track.

It's definitely been a wierd balancing act between my life here and the one back home. If I speak too much English with my gringo contingent, I feel like my Castellano suffers. When I start settling in here, I start to lose track of how things are going back home. My Castellano has progressed now to the point where I can understand a fair bit, but my brain forgets that it had to translate what people were saying and sometimes I find myself about to answer someone in English who has been speaking Castellano for the last 15 minutes. I guess that's a sign of progress, but it sure makes for a wierd headspace.



Looking down from the Tres Cruces



One thing has been a constant regardless of whether I'm up or down: I freaking love my site. Pueblo Nuevo is an amazing community full of some of the most fantastic, beautiful and giving people I have ever had the privilege to know. Consistently, I'm told that people want to help me in whatever way they can and I'm constantly being reassured that I will adapt poco a poco and to not be so hard on myself. Oh, and food. There is no chance that I will ever go hungry (or be hungry) here because I am constantly being given food or snacks or juice. It's an endearing part of the Peruvian culture that at times is difficult to maneauver. At least everyone's been pretty cool about the vegetarian thing.



The Big Iglesia next to the Municipality with the Tres Cruces up on the hill





The Cock-fighting ring (haven't heard much about this, but I imagine I will)





The Health Post (complete with Mototaxis!)



The Municipality Building (where the mayor and some of my socios work)



My host family most especially embodies the sentiment of this community. They have consistently told me from the first week I came for site visit that I will be regarded as a part of the family and that their entire house is open to me. And what a house it is. I live up on the second floor with about 3-6 other people depending on the week. Downstairs is the common eating area and living room, and two other members of the family live with their spouses and young daughters in seperate living quarters behind the house. We've also got a bunch of roosters (who seem daily confused about the time, so they just make noise all fucking night long...), ducks, baby chickens, a couple of turkeys, two pigs, two horses, some smaller birds that look like finches and a dog. I imagine any number of those animals' time is numbered, but luckily I haven't had to witness or hear anything to confirm that suspicion. Anyway, my house is sweet and when I don't have work or other duties to attend to, I sit out on the second floor balcony and study Castellano or read or journal with a cup of coffee. It's pretty ideal and perfect for getting to see the flow of the town.



Mi Casa Bonita





The upstairs cocina and living room just outside my room




My Room (looking in)



My Room (looking out toward the cocina)





I've become more aware of how many people keep up with this blog over the last couple of weeks, and just wanted to thank you for your ongoing interest. It means a lot to me to know that people are interested in what I'm doing here.

And in an effort not to end two blog posts in a row on a serious note, here's one of the suggested "Myth or Fact" statements I got for my sex-ed dinamica from one of the many extremely helpful (seriously) manuals provided to us by the Peace Corps:
"Un hombre con su pene más grande es más potente sexualmente que uno con un pene pequeño."
Fact or Myth? You tell me. 20 points to the person who guesses the right answer first!

Never underestimate the power of a pig basura to brighten your day. Whenever I put trash in him, I say, "There you go, pig."

¡Hasta next blog post!