fotos...

I just realized that I have a half written blog post waiting to be published. Hard for you all to read my half written posts just like the emails that end up waiting longer than they should in my "draft" folder. I love that Gmail has that option, but sometimes I feel like I wrote an email to someone since I started it, so then I stop thinking about it--but since I never finish, and it remains in my "draft" folder. Anyway, in the meantime before I finish my draft post, I'll post a couple photos.



The above photo kind of catches everyone's faces in odd expressions. It was out in the campo at a workshop for mothers about nutrition for kids under 1. During the workshop we drank (including a nursing baby) orange soda and Frito-like spicy chips. The poor baby after consuming too much, vomited up most of what she took in.



This picture is at a training we held recently to train the public hospital nurses and psychologists in how we run group therapy sessions for MDR TB patients. I am sitting next to a psychiatrist and 2 Socios nurses that I work with. The plan, I think, is for a switchover so that group therapy sessions will be run by the public hospitals and be part of the MDR TB treatment. If it works, it would be a great way to make it more accessible and sustainable.

While we're talking about pictures, I put a link to my fellow volunteer Collin's photo blog. He's the big photographer of the 4 of us.

how does one spend life outside of work?

A topic that goes through my head frequently is how I spend my time outside of work. We are at work (in the office or in the field) a significant period of time: 8-5 Monday through Friday, 8-1 Saturdays, and sometimes Saturday afternoons as well. But that still leaves a lot of time outside of work to recharge, relax, have fun, explore, process, read, and write. Sunday is the big day for all those activities.

When I first got here I think I felt a pressure to get out and explore the city, and not just stay in our comfortable cable/internet outfitted apartment. I have done some exploring, but I admit it's hard to do alone in a big city. One Sunday I went to the Lima art museum, walked around a park, ate at a cafe, all by myself. When my coworkers asked me the next day what I had done the day before, I proudly said, "I went to the art museum!" Everyone was shocked to hear I went alone and encouraged me to next time go with another volunteer. But how can I always just do what I can get someone else excited about doing too? It felt kind of liberating to go to the museum and not worry about who to invite, who I should spend time with, who I should call. I have very few social obligations in my life in Lima, which is sometimes isolating, but also liberating. And while I do love my fellow volunteers (some of whom are reading this,) I also need a break from them from time to time. We work together, eat lunch together, and live together. Fortunately they're buena gente.

Anyway, after a while of resisting the limitless amount of HBO programming and DVDs we can cheaply buy here, I feel like I have folded and have watched more HBO on DVDs than I thought possible. You know, they're great shows, "Six Feet Under," "The Wire," "Arrested Development," and "Entourage." But in moderation I could enjoy them more. I would also probably feel better about my life here if it didn't revolve around work and watching HBO. Anyway, I try to make an effort to do a variety of activities outside of work in order to not fall into an unstimulating routine. For example, going to spinning or pilates classes with Holly (fellow volunteer.) Or going to the movie theatre with César (non-work Peruvian friend of a friend.) Not having lots of other non-work Peruvian friends makes it challenging sometimes. Poco a poco I'm getting there though. Slowly, but surely, I am getting to know this city of 10 million people (more than the entire population of Bolivia.)

Yesterday Holly, Collin and I headed to a town on the southside of the city and came across a rocky beach that didn't smell so good, but offered a great escape from the city. We enjoyed a lunch of ceviche and pisco sours (they served us even though it was election day and alcohol is prohibited the weekend of elections) at a restaurant playing hits from the 1950s in Spanish. The town felt like a town from a different era. Today a coworker told me it was a popular place to go in the 1950s. Here's some pictures including Holly and Collin in one of their many political debates, and a view of Lima from where we were:

más fotos

Sra. Valeria, her son, and her grandson. One of her daughters is trying to find work in Buenos Aires and the other in Spain. So far the one in Argentina has been there for more than a year and hasn't sent home any money. A lot of Bolivians travel to other countries to work for a couple years since there are zero jobs in Bolivia, but it's not always more beneficial than staying.



Our stop at Sipe Sipe at the best house to buy huarapo, sweet fermented grape drink. The woman on the right owns the place and was filling up our yellow jugs with the drink from her barrels of it.

fotos de Bolivia

Raul for diputado! Unfortunately he didn't win. Raul was my advisor for my water research in the Zona Sur of Cochabamba. It was pretty exciting to drive past his name on the walls.



Ruins outside of Cochabamba where until recently the people who live around there played soccer in the ruins.

ah, the sweet smell of cochabamba

When I got off the plane early in the morning I smelled the familiar urine smell of Cochabamba and saw the striking cordillera, the mountain range the surrounds the small valley city. It was really great to be back for a few days. I saw a lot more stray dogs, smooth sidewalks, less clouds, familiar faces, cholitas, political graffiti on the walls, people speaking quechua, and heard less cars honking. Cochabamba has a calm feeling to it. Everyone is doing something, but slowly, with intention.

Fortunately I was able to catch up with almost everyone I know who lives there. The first day Juan Pablo took me along with his classmates on a fieldtrip to see ruins that I had never seen. The bus ride through the wrinkled-sheet mountains reminded me of when I was there before. The ruins were of big buildings and houses, but no one know much about them because there is no funding for a study.

Back in the city I enjoyed a long lunch with a siesta (Peruvians don't take a siesta after lunch like they do in Bolivia) at my former director's new house. I spoke at my program's field studies class about the research I did in Bolivia, giving suggestions and warning about the potential frustrations. I ventured to the Zona Sur, the poor part of Cochabamba, to visit the families I knew when I did my research there. I first went to Valeria's house to find that she had moved. Wandering through the familiar dirt roads, I found Fabiola sitting outside of her house. I actually walked by the house, not sure which one it was, but she yelled out, "la chloe?" It was great to see her and her family. It is so weird to see kids I know grow up. I felt like such an adult remarking on how much they had all grown. They said they thought about me often and had assumed I was for sure married by now.

The next day I found the cell phone number of Raul, my supervisor for my water research, who helped me find Valeria's new house. She moved in to a shared lot, her daughters have both left (one to Spain, one to Argentina) to make money for a couple years, and she is alone with the 2 ten year old boys. Unfortunately it seemed they had not grown as much as the other kids I know. Or they just stretched out. Raul was in charge of buying a ton of huarapo, a fermented grape drink, for a big cholita festival, so we all piled into his rented taxi to head out to Sipe Sipe where they supposedly have the best huarapo. I had lunch with my host family the next day, and my host father said, oh no, they have fake huarapo in Sipe Sipe. So, who knows. I enjoyed catching up with my host sisters who have both now graduated.

It was a great trip and really hard to leave. Everyone talked badly about Peruvians, so I found myself defending my new people. Whereas in Peru, I have to defend Bolivians as well. Bolivians and Peruvians really should be friends, as I understand. Although now they have presidents who are not too fond of each other. Last time I was in Bolivia the conservative gringo Goni was president, so it was pretty great to be there and talk to people about Evo, the coca grower who is making a lot of great reformations. He has already advanced really successfully with a literarization project and an agrarian reform project giving people deeds to land that they live on.

Anyway, on top of all the great people I saw, places I saw, and salteñas I ate, it was also really great for my spanish since I spoke spanish the whole time I was there. Now it's back to work until me next fun break in December when Meggie comes!