Control

Car, bike, cell phone, and wifi.

I just listed four things that are commodities I had in the U.S. that I don’t have here. However, these things are not just commodities, but a means to which I could easily access independence and control of how I spent my time and accomplished tasks. I could decide when and where I went via transportation, I could easily call or text people to make plans, and I could access wifi at a variety of places to check news, email, look up information, etc.

As you can imagine, part of the adjustment period is getting used to no longer having these means of control and independence I once took for granted.  One way to get through culture shock and past frustrations is being able to identify what the issue is and come to terms with it. It took me awhile to verbalize or even identify what exactly was frustrating about many situations, but it was sitting right under my nose the whole time; I’m just used to having more control over things.

Transportation: Here, when I need to get from point A to point B I usually walk unless it is too far away and I don’t have time. It takes me 30 to 40 minutes to walk to the training center in the morning, which is actually pretty nice. I enjoy the walk and I always meet up with other trainees who live in my neighborhood so we can all walk together. But, if I need to go further, it makes more sense to take a combe (small bus) or colectivo (basically a taxi, but it has a flat rate fare, only has one route, and as many people as possible cram in along the way) which depending on the day, could take 30 minutes just to catch. The public transportation system isn’t on “hora Americana” (our idea of punctuality) it’s on “hora Peruana” (meeting times are more like general guidelines. More often than not, people are at least 30 minutes late).

This constant preparation to be somewhere on “hora Americana” while the rest of Peru is on “hora Peruana” makes things difficult, especially when meeting up with someone. We do not have cell phones and won’t receive them until the end of our service. So, if someone waits for 20 minutes not knowing you’re still waiting for a combe, or you got sick and can’t make it, that’s just how it is.

Poop: Missing appointments and meetings due to sickness happens, a lot. Some people have lost control of their bowels. Yes, people have already pooped their pants. I’d like to think we all laugh together about it, but I’m not sure I’ll be laughing when it happens to me. I have a feeling it will be unavoidable. Talking about poop has become as common as asking how someone’s day is going. Some people can’t poop, others can’t stop. It’s a big mixture of different diet, different routines, different bacteria, etc.

Routines: Not sure if I even have a routine here, yet. Running used to be a big part of my routine, and now I’m lucky if I run a couple minutes a week. I couldn’t run very much after my marathon because of my hurt achilles tendon, but I have hardly tried to run here. Some people do it, and I am actually pretty jealous. My achilles is still recovering so I don’t want to push it, but I also just don’t feel as comfortable. I like running by myself or with someone with a similar running pace. However, I don’t even have the option to run alone here. I still don’t feel quite safe enough, and that is mostly because of the dogs. I have had to throw a rock or two to get them to stay away from me. Something about running just triggers their “attack” mode.

Comida tipica: Food is my biggest struggle here. For example, if I wake up and want pancakes, too bad. Not because pancakes don’t exist, but because I have to find alternate means to make those pancakes (I am gluten-free) and I then have to talk it out with my host mom who thinks pancakes for breakfast is just bizarre (that much food for breakfast? Without rice? Unheard of!). In general, I’m not allowed to make my own food. We compromise at times and I will make a meal here and there for the whole family (which so far they’ve loved) but I’m not making daily decisions on what I eat, when I eat it, or how it is prepared. Of all the losses in independence, this one is the hardest for me. It is hard to give up control of what I choose to eat, and part of that is the different concept of nutrition. Vegetables make you sick (or, that’s what a lot of Peruvians think), white rice is the number one staple, and drinking plain water is very uncommon. If you happen to be eating with someone who believes cold drinks make you sick (many Peruvians do) then you’ll be drinking hot fruit juice, hot tea with lots of sugar, or just plain warm soda. Soda is the most popular option.  Meals consist of white rice sprinkled with MSG (yes, MSG is just another seasoning here, and a popular one at that) topped with potatoes, and sometimes a side of meat. And rice isn’t just for dinner, oh no. It’s for every meal, in every form. Sometimes we just eat rice and milk—with lots of sugar in it. Needless to say, I am starving within an hour (rice and potato are the top-two foods on the glycemic index) and snacks are a little harder to come by since I can’t eat crackers or bread. I eat a lot of candy, because my blood sugar drops like a rock and I just need something to keep me going. It’s also a “comfort food” thing, so I think I’m going to have to seek out more fruit.

However, I am already adjusting to many of these things. I make sure to plan ahead of time and always leave the house 30 to 40 minutes before I have to be somewhere. I don’t run, but I do yoga everyday and have little exercises I can do in my room. I carry toilet paper with me at all times, and a plastic bag in case lunch decides to make a reappearance (you just never know). Many things are becoming commonplace, and sometimes I forget about quirks and differences to tell people back home because I’m so used to it already.

And food, well, that will probably be hard until I get to site and have a little more freedom to cook some of my own meals. I dream of pizza and Indian food, and wake up praying I can have something normal for breakfast like eggs or oatmeal. But, it’s all in vain. My stomach is slowly adjusting to the simple carbs and in the end it is all part of the cultural experience. I am seeing how the other part of the world lives, and if that means rice and potatoes and no veggies, then I guess that’s what I’m eating. It is a humbling experience to have to rely so heavily on others, and while I don’t particularly like it, it is all part of the process; the process of letting go of the control I didn’t even realize I had.