this morning
08 Feb 2012 Leave a Comment
I must really be part of the culture now: today I had my first conversation with a Jehovah’s witness in Spanish! So I was walking down the street and I see this elderly woman. Trying to be friendly, I say, “Buenos dias”–simple enough, right? But a couple sentences later we had already gotten to her telling me: “you will die in darkness for your beliefs.” What a day.
Noche de Talentos
27 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
On November 12th we had the second ever Noche de Talentos at Ciudad. All of the full-time volunteers put it together. Usually, the regular staff members have to do extra work when there are special events, but with this one we tried to make sure everything was taken care of. There had been an audition in which all the boys had a chance to present acts. Eventually, we were able to narrow it down to a set list of songs, dances, and scenes. Another volunteer, Jeanette, and I were the animadores (MCs), and we thought it would be a cool idea to put a few sketches of our own into the night. My favorite one involved Jeanette and I changing into some clothes “muy chevere” (really cool) and coming out speaking a whole lot of slang at once in order to introduce the hip hop dances of the night. Straight off, we thought of asking Eduardo for help. He’s a seasonal worker in the bakery at Ciudad and he used to live here full time, first as a regular resident and then as a pre-tutor (an older boy who stays on to work in exchange for help with college or professional studies). When I went to Eduardo with the idea, he immediately understood what was needed. One night, Eduardo and Pedro (from the futbol story) set about coming up with a dialogue for us that used as much jerga (slang) as possible. It sounded something like this:
Ryan: Abla bateria, que fue??
Jeanette: Hombre (jajajaja)
R: (jajajajaja) A la merfi pe?, en que tas?
J: Ahi pe, tava chequeando a los mimos . . .
The process to come up with these words was pretty entertaining in itself. Pedro and Eduardo would huddle together, talking amongst themselves until one of them thought of a phrase, and then they would laugh hysterically while writing it down. Jeanette and I really didn’t know exactly what we were saying at first, and there is sill one joke in there that may imply that Jeanette gave birth to a boy. Once we had the script, there was the whole matter of memorizing words in a different language that you still can’t quite understand. I realize it’s a very short dialogue, but we spent the days leading up to the show practicing and practicing so that we could pull it off well. When we acted it out for all of Ciudad during the talent show, all the words came out, remarkably, and people seemed to really like it. There was a huge laugh when Jeanette said “cachina baratito,” although we had no idea why it was so funny. Who cares though? I’ve found that, after learning this little bit of jerga, I can now pick up these words when the boys use them. I’m going to have to keep learning the slang if I want to understand them because they sure use a lot of it.
Panetón
23 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
One of my friends here, Pedro, invited me to come play soccer on a Thursday afternoon. It turned out that it was a game with all the panaderos (people working in the bakery). I had arrived late so I only played a few rounds–they play to the first score. Afterwards, I was invited to come to the panaderia to eat dinner. During the fall, the panaderia goes into high-gear in order to make about 32,000 panettones to be sold for the benefit of Ciudad. The meal that night was a kind of party because the workers had just finished making all of the panettones for the season. While we all chomped down on sausage, bread, and drank Inca cola, two or three of the guys spoke to the group about the importance of the work and shared their appreciation for all that everyone had done. It was a gift to be so welcomed into their celebration.
Si!
21 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
So happy. I have started taking Spanish classes again in the same school in which we did our three week course upon arriving in Peru. The difference this time is that it’s going to be individual classes for two hours every Saturday morning. And, I’m getting to take them with my favorite teacher at the school. In August, I had only gone to one or two of her afternoon workshops, but that was enough to convince me that at some point I wanted her to be my teacher. And now, here we are. As I was riding to my first lesson with Lily on Saturday, I tallied up a list in my head of the things I wanted from the course: focused grammar work, reading assignments, writing assignments, pronunciation help, education about the culture. During the lesson I did not mention any of these aspirations and yet, they all appeared, one after the other. We started off with a conversation about my observations of Peruvians since arriving. This topic gave me the chance to talk over various interactions I have had or witnessed with co-workers and friars at Ciudad. She assigned me something to write using vocabulary we had gone over, gave me articles to read with the intent not only of practicing reading comprehension but also getting to know Peru, and even taped the lesson so as to be able to give me personalized pronunciation tips later. Perhaps best of all, she came prepared with many activities and resources to do instead of enslaving ourselves to the textbook, which, I have to say, isn’t especially good anyway. Having a one-on-one language class with someone who is not only a native speaker but also a teacher is exponentially better than any other type. Your brain never gets a break. You’re always having to think and form new connections. With so much more struggle the rewards are that much greater. There is a lot more chance that you will actually begin to use the material to communicate in the rest of your life, rather than letting it sit in a box of theories in your brain.
Finally, back to school! One of my main preoccupations here has been the language and without formal classes I can’t help but feel slightly adrift most of the time, especially because I live with English speakers. There’s such a temptation to form an English world bubble, even though we’re so far away from the US. For a while I went around confused and frustrated. Hadn’t I come here with the expectation of learning Spanish? What was I doing living in a building with only people who speak English? Why had the so-called Intensive program in Miraflores seemed like such a bust? Why was there so much English in my day? Fortunately, I to put some ideas into action rather than just continue grumbling. I made a few concrete commitments with myself: a) During the week, I would only speak English between 12:00-1:30 pm and at the end of the day (about 10:00 pm), b) I would study Spanish for at least one hour every day (not anything light, just pure studying), c) And, finally, I would continue to save up so that I could take Spanish classes once more. While not holding to these resolutions rigidly, they have helped so much. It gave me a structure to work within. And now, it will be even better because I have a guide with the language. Hurray!
Grandpa
20 Nov 2011 1 Comment
Since I got to Peru I had been thinking,
I really should write to Grandpa.
But I didn’t.
So I’m writing now.
Grandpa,
I want to be with you. Are you with Grandma? Are you with Aunt Jean? What is it like where you are? Is it a where at all? When will I come to be where you are and what roads will I have traveled by then? Are you young again? I was looking at that picture of you as a young man–how handsome, cap cocked to the side with your movie-star smile. What were you thinking about?
They’re going through your things today: Cheri, Bruce, my Dad, and maybe others, but I’m not sure. You’ve left and now there’s a house full of stuff, a house
When you see your life on earth, what do you see?
90 years of, of breathing, of nights of days of births of deaths
90 years of meals of laundry of desserts,
many desserts
a near century of living
How is it that you can just go? Don’t you know who you are? Can you show me who I am?
You lived a life; you loved
It’s a gift to be here, Grandpa. I don’t know if you could tell but I wasn’t so happy for the last while. All the momentum and passion and sense of direction had seemed to disappear–I even stopped dreaming. Here, there are frustrations, frustrations for sure, but good ones.
Thank you for your life, Grandpa. Thank you for sharing so much of it with me. More and more during my life, I came to feel simply loved whenever I was with you. I hope I can love like you do.
With love, Ryan
My Grandpa Fred died on November 1st. He was 90. Over the past couple years his health had gone up and down. Until this period, he had lived in his own house by himself, at least since Grandma Helen died in 1996.
Polvos Azules
07 Nov 2011 4 Comments
Today I had the chance to visit Polvos Azules for the second time since arriving in Peru. It is a large, packed-to-the-gills marketplace. The main wares are clothes, shoes, movies, music, video games, and computer related gadgets. For myself, going in there without a specific mission could be very disorienting; there’s so much bustling. My roommate Michael and I went to find the pistas (music without words) to a few songs we need for this year’s Noche de Talentos, which happens to be on the 12th. The Cap Corps volunteers started this event last year, and we are going to keep it going. All of the boys had a chance to try out for the talent show. There will be dances, 2 mime acts, theatre, bands, and many singers. Some of the singers do not have their own music and we weren’t able to find several of the songs online, hence the trip.
Now, there was another motive for heading to central Lima: cheap movies. In fact, while largely unsuccessful in finding pistas for the songs, we were outrageously successful in buying movies. Here are the ones I picked up:
Contracorriente
No se lo digas a Nadie
La teta asustada
La boca del lobo
Pantelon y las visitadoras
Dias de Santiago
Madeinusa
Nueve Reinas
Carancho
Hijo de la novia
Seven from Peru and three from Argentina–all for twenty-five soles, which is a little over nine dollars. I should include that Michael and I also went in on the second season of Glee, to which I have become delightfully enthralled while being here.
Goodnight.
Pachamanca
20 Oct 2011 Leave a Comment
So. There is a giant brick oven dug into the ground. At the bottom are coals which are covered in large rocks. These rocks heat up over a long period of time. Then, once they’re hot enough, they are placed in alternating layers with pork stuffed inside of platano leaves. At the top are the potatoes, sweet and regular, as well as other vegetables. Over all of these wonderful things is a cover of earth to seal in the heat. Then it’s just a matter of time before a fantastic meal is ready to go.
Since arriving in Peru, I’ve been hearing the word “Pachamanca” (from Quechua, pacha=earth, manca=pot). It always seemed to have a magical ring to it and now I see why. With the addition of rice, the food from just one oven fed everyone at Ciudad during almuerzo today. There are three of them behind the kitchen, all made in preparation for the anniversario of Ciudad de los Ninos this Sunday.
The guys at my table were telling me that I was eating the tail of our tasty chancho (that’s right, he was one of our own), but I’m not sure if I believe them. Whatever part it was, I’d eat it again and again.
chao all
Hello all! In Peru…
20 Sep 2011 Leave a Comment
My first weekend here we had the Ciudad Olimpiadas and guess which team brought home the prize?
Well, it’s been a little over a week here at Ciudad de los Ninos. Before that, I had three weeks at a language school called El Sol in Miraflores, Lima. Many people have asked me what my life would be like in Peru and I wasn’t able to give a lot of details. So here’s a day in the life:
6:10 Get up, get ready and walk to the comedor (dining hall), hopefully on time
6:30 Desayuno with 30o boys–although, I sit at a table with five or six of the guys from my house. Ciudad is broken up into 9 pabellones based on grade level. My house is called San Francisco and the boys are around 15 years old.
Before and after every meal there are certain prayers said aloud by everyone in the hall, most of which I have yet to learn.
6:50 After a breakfast of rolls and an oatmeal type concoction that you drink (se llama “quaker” with a heavy accent), I head back to my departamento, where I live with some of the other volunteers. I have a roommate named Michael and across the hall three female volunteers live together (Tania, Jeanette, and Laura). They are all the same program as me (Capuchin Volunteer Corps), except that Tania and Jeanette have both been here for at least a year already. Upstairs there are two british girls who are working here as part of a gap-year program before college and another girl from Germany who is here as part of the Red Cross.
Generally, I use most of my free time for studying Spanish and that’s what I’ve been doing from 7 to 8 while having some coffee (it’s instant, but it’s okay, especially with evaporated milk). Coming here like I have, you go around perplexed a lot of the time language-wise and it is so good to be able to just sit down with my notebooks and slow it all down for a bit.
8:00 In the Capilla, after the boys have gone off to school at 7:30, the friars and other staff gather for morning prayer (it’s liturgy of the hours, it’s in spanish, and it’s awesome), which is usually combined with mass. For anyone who’s not acquainted with Liturgy of the Hours, it is form of communal prayer largely based around the psalms of the Hebrew bible, which are recited or sung in alternating stanzas. I haven’t even mentioned all the wonderful, simple hymns in spanish that we do here…
9:00 I’ve changed into some work clothes, and I suffer through my 20 second commute to San Francisco. So far my work has mostly been in the reciclaje. Picture this: you are confronted with a gigantic pile of stuff including bottles, cans, cardboard, trash, clothes, newspapers, magazines, books, appliances, and computer equipment, all of which you are supposed to sort through and organize. It’s like a giant, yet dirtier, I-Spy game. Ciudad recieves most of the stuff from the outside with the purpose of putting it all in order and selling it to others who will then sell it all (or what can be sold) again. It’s also a good place to read newspapers from May, which happens on a regular basis.
12:00 Free time in the departamento. You may have guessed it…spanish again!
1:30 Before almuerzo, along with a few others, I help set the five tables of the boys in my house. We then proceed to eat vast quantities of beans, rice, and potatoes.
Un poquito mas free time
3:00 Afternoon work, it’s been pretty similar to the morning work. Cleaning, doing the trash (at least until one guy in my pabellon received the punishment of having to do the trash of all Ciudad by himself for a week), and maybe more time in the reciclaje. The three oldest houses switch off month by month with handling the trash for the community and my house is in charge of recycling for the year.
5:30-6:40 Study hall in the pabellon. I haven’t been very involved with this yet, but I’m sure as I get more a handle on the language/schedule here I can at least help with some English homework.
7:00 Alabanza It’s a praise and worship time that happens Monday through Thursday. There are songs that everyone knows by heart. These songs are usually accompanied by various movements/simple dance steps that are done with varying degrees of enthusiasm. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure how the older guys handle some of the style of ciudad. It’s tough because you’ve got boys from age 3 to 18. How do you design a time like alabanza for everybody?
7:20 or 30, not sure. Cena. Once more, I eat in the hall with the guys. My house is older and very self-sufficient in comparison to a lot of the others. I’ll look across the hall and see Tania, Jeanette, and Laura all doing a lot more of the setting up/serving/clean up than I do. Though, after being a special ed. assistant, I’m fine with taking a break from more caretaking type work.
8:00-9:30 More study hall in San Francisco but, depending on the day, I may or may not be there. Today, since I’m writing this post during the first study time, I’ll probably go.
Perhaps unlike a lot of the people in Cap Corps who are fresh out of college, I’m not finding myself flush with zeal, or at least the kind of zeal I imagine I had in 2008. That may be a good thing. I would much rather work up to the horario here than plunge in with tons of gusto only to fall back later after the honeymoon is over. During the past week, I kept noticing that Ciudad is a bit like a monastery. Except better, because there is more talking and not just men around. We are in a walled in “city,” centered on common work, meals, prayer, study, personal formation–all directed toward living ourselves into love. So. I guess you could say that, at least so far, this place agrees with me.
Hello world!
11 Sep 2011 1 Comment
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