Soy King Kong

I am a giant in Peru. I am 5’9” and even for a girl in the states that puts me above average in height. Well, here I’m above and beyond average—I’m gigante.

Just ask my 10 year-old host brother Diego who is under 5’0” tall, and probably not getting a lot taller based on the size of his family members. He’s already called me everything from Godzilla or Hulk, to a “big tree”. Cause I’m just plain tall.

I shouldn’t feel bad because it is a common part of the culture to give someone a nickname, or call them based on their appearance. I’m not completely unfamiliar to this, since I lived in Costa Rica for a short while where people were called gordita (fatty) flaco (skinny) or by any other characteristic. For instance, gringa (white person/foreigner/etc). That shouldn’t come as a surprise to many. I do have a couple friends in my group that are of Asian descent, and they are all just called china. Doesn’t matter if they're from Korea or elsewhere, people call them straight out china. Some take the “nicknames” better than others, but it is difficult when we’re raised in the U.S. where not only are we more p.c. (and this time I mean politically correct, not Peace Corps) but you just don’t call someone by physical characteristics, especially if it’s “fat”. Ideas of what is appropriate or inappropriate are very different, and racism exists in just as many different forms. Sometimes it’s hard to swallow what people are saying, because back in the U.S. that person would be labeled as racists or prejudiced, and many people would speak their mind against it. But, different country, different history/culture, different ideas, and one can’t judge someone based on different standards.

We’ve been learning a lot about “filters” lately. A filter being that, I grew up in the Pacific Northwest of the USA, and I have “x” ideals, “x” morals, “x” beliefs, and I can’t judge a Peruvian based on my personal standards. It’s a constant adjustment to think, “Okay, that person isn’t being a major creeper, because personal space is different,” or “This person isn’t being rude by staring, because that’s not unusual, and I’m white and freakishly tall to them.” It messes with my head a little bit when I think that there truly is no “right” and “wrong” that can stand clear and true. To me, certain things are clear as day right and wrong, but it doesn’t work that way.

I will admit, I am having a harder time adjusting to the culture here. At first it was all kind of interesting and entertaining, but some days I’m over it. I’m over being stared at, feeling incredibly out of place, and dealing with language and cultural barriers. But then I remind myself, I’ve only been here 2 ½ weeks. It feels like I’ve been here forever. Also, I’m working at a much more intense level, what with training 8 hours a day, homework every night, weekend excursions, spending time with my host family, and trying to just relax somewhere in there. It’s a lot to adjust to at once.

Hopefully in the next 2 ½ weeks, things will be easier. Soon all of our training courses will only be in Spanish, we’ll be doing more work directly with youth in our communities, and we’ll be halfway through training. If anything, I hope the language will come easier, the stares will go unnoticed, and I’ll keep walking tall.