10 Months Post-Service; El Tatuaje

Back in the beginning of my Peace Corps experience I first went through a two-and-a-half month Pre-Service Training (PST) that felt more like an extended summer camp than training to be a "change agent" and US ambassador working in development. Let's face it, PST is nothing like actual service. We had long hours of training followed by plenty of homework, we went everywhere in groups, and were packed sack lunches by our training host families. We had a mini internal government comprised of our peers with presidents, vice presidents, treasurers and the like, and the big issues they had to govern were over class rings and t-shirt designs.

Yes, the first months of what I considered to be one of the most adventurous, daring, independent things I've ever done felt like I was back in high school.

And back in high school, I would've been a contender, if not a winner, of a t-shirt design contest. So when just that was proposed I started thinking of something I could draw up in my rare and brief free time. Even with my sheltered first weeks in Peru it was very clear the country is quite proud of their rich and extensive culture and heritage, not to mention archaeological sites (which are a huge point of tourism) such as Machu Picchu and the Nazca Lines. The Nazca Lines are these grooves in the ground that span hundreds of feet and connect to make designs that can only be entirely seen from neighboring hilltops or airplanes. These designs are of various different animals and geometric shapes, and are estimated to have been created 400-600 AD. Within moments of entering Peru you're certain to see t-shirts and other knickknacks etched and painted with these designs, most commonly the monkey or the hummingbird. Seeing as how Peace Corps has its own symbolic bird, a dove, I saw the ripe opportunity to not just put a bird on it, but two birds on it.

Aerial view of the hummingbird Nazca line

Retro Peace Corps pin, but the design still represents Peace Corps today

I was quite proud of what I came up with, something simple yet self-explanatory to anyone in Peace Corps Peru. But just like high school, I kind of got distracted, and the next thing I knew we were voting on t-shirt designs and mine wasn't one of them because, well...I forgot to enter it.

Whoops.

But soon enough I started to realize I liked the design enough that maybe it was a good thing I didn't enter it into the contest, maybe the design was meant for something else?

And so I elaborated, I doodled, I played around with the same essential design. Then one day I was inspired by some of the embroidery I had seen on artisan work sold in Peru, leading me to outline my original design with vibrant flowers. And after that moment I knew this was going to be my tattoo.

Drawing by me! Amanda Rodgers

I'm one of those people who's always wanted a tattoo, but could never justify spending the money on it. Every time I save up enough money to get one something comes up where that money could be better spent. Eight years ago I had a tattoo fund that ended up going towards my study abroad in Costa Rica, and after that I realized I will always want to save money for experiences versus things (even if those things are on my skin). So, needless to say, I had no tattoos, and even though I really wanted this particular tattoo, I did not get it as soon as I'd hoped (such as during my service or immediately after finishing it) because experiences (and bills) just kept coming up.

I've been home 10 months now and this last month was my birthday (my first in the US in three years) and my mom and dad offered to pay for my tattoo as a birthday present. Yes, I'm a grown-ass woman and my parents paid for my first tattoo. The price of living has pretty much locked down my funds for the foreseeable future, and I was never going to spend the money on myself, so it was a pretty awesome birthday present.

Finished product, by Kassi Lampe at High Priestess Tattoo. I love it!

I haven't talked to my host family about the tattoo yet. I imagine my host siblings would think it's cool, my host mom would think it's pretty but refrain from comment, and my host dad would throw an absolute fit. When my friend Becky visited Peru (her guest blog post is Memories, mammaries, and diarrhea; A guest blog from my BFF Becky) I was lectured by proxy for all of her tattoos. In Peru once you get a tattoo, you are no longer allowed to donate blood again--ever. Also, in the campo blood banks are not much of an option, so any blood transfusions or donations come directly from someone with the appropriate blood type, more often than not your family members. Therefore, if you get a tattoo, you can no longer give blood to your family in a time of need. Despite my attempts to explain to my host dad that in the US tattoos are not regulated the same way and the blood donation system is completely different, his experiences and beliefs wouldn't let him see tattoos as anything but a selfish, reckless act. So, that phone conversation is going to be interesting.

I decided to have the tattoo on my arm because I want to be able to see the design I created during some of the hardest times in my Peace Corps service. I could go on and say a bunch of mushy stuff about how Peace Corps changed my life, about how a day hardly goes by that I don't think about my community, host family, or volunteer friends, or how much stronger, compassionate, and capable I feel as a person after serving....but you probably all already knew all that. And as long as I have skin on my arm and eyes to see, I'll have a constant reminder.

Moving along; subconscious and conscious battles

There was a long time when I first got to Peru when my dreams hadn't quite caught up with my physical location yet. They preserved home in this perfect technicolor world that I could visit at the end of each exhausting day. On more than one occasion I would wake from a dream in which I had just been dining at my favorite restaurant, laughing with my boyfriend and friends, or walking the grounds of my parent's home, and I wouldn't know where I was. My mind had travelled so far away it would take a second before I realized where I was and what I was doing there before I would feel the deep pains of homesickness sink in.

After some time in site this started to change. Peru would make its way into my dreams in small ways, never fully taking over. The trash-- the miles and miles of trash I would pass on the drive to my site-- made its way into my dreams first it seemed. It sprinkled the periphery of everywhere I went. It progressed as other things changed. I would be "home" in the US, but the houses would be adobe or concrete. I would walk down the street of my college town on the crumbling, sometimes non-existent, sidewalks I walked everyday in site. I would speak Spanish with random strangers that would pop into a scene with my family, or I would be riding a combi with my boyfriend. And in time, my dreams were all Peru. Suddenly nothing in my dreams was free of some distinctly Peruvian feature.

Dreams are so personal and individual, but there are always the common stress dreams people get, like public nudity or teeth falling out. Peace Corps seemed to have its own. A common stress dream many volunteers had during service, or a variation of, was the "I went home and didn't tell anybody" dream. I would dream of these less-than-24-hour trips back to the US where upon arrival I would realize I hadn't actually told anyone back in Peru I was leaving, making my visit the ultimate illegal vacation. Peace Corps had invaded my dreams so much that I couldn't even dream of a visit home without the proper paperwork.

Now that I've been home for about seven months, I'm realizing the odd reversal of all of this. Peru still exists in my dreams, in some form, every single night. Sometimes it's in the architecture of the buildings, a lot of times it's in the dirt roads speckled with trash. A random stranger, if not my host family, will still require me to speak Spanish on at least a weekly basis. A lot of times Peru exists in the people I knew there, visiting my dreams to remind me I left them behind. Literally, they complain about me leaving them behind, which is so apropos to Peruvian culture.

I even have a regular stress dream that seems to be the sister to my previous "going home" stress dreams from service: I've finished my visit home, and it's time to go back to Peru to finish my work. Like I'm still a volunteer and this whole time I've been home it wasn't to stay, and I was always going to go back to Peru to keep working eventually.

Last night I had the ultimate of these stress dreams. I arrived in my regional capital and it was like the second I got there I realized I hadn't brought presents for anyone. I had spent all this time in the US and I hadn't brought anything back! ¡Ingrata!

It's a really bittersweet thing. The dreams feed off of my worries; I'm visited by visions and people that ask me why I left them behind--or make me ask myself why I left it all behind-- and they break my heart a little. It's like a different kind of homesickness. But even though it kind of torments me, I'm afraid to stop dreaming about Peru. I'm afraid once I stop dreaming about it, I'll start forgetting about it. A large part of me is very afraid to lose not just the relationships and Spanish, but the small things that made Peru and the experience so incredibly unique.

I received a letter from one of my fellow RPCV's from Peru 17, and I feel like she put so perfectly what I had been thinking but couldn't quite put into words. She wrote:

"I guess part of me is afraid that I will lose that piece of Peru that I promised my community, and myself, that I would llevar en mi corazón para siempre. It's a strange fear. Obviously I will never forget Peru and everything I gained and learned from the experience. But how do I move on without leaving the little things that made the experience what it was? After all, one of Peace Corps' best lessons is that it's the small stuff that matters most."

My dreams seem to be that part of me speaking out; I want to move on, but I don't want to leave it behind. I want to honor my Peace Corps service and Peru and the relationships I formed and the lessons I learned, but I also need to live here and now. And like I said in my last blog, it's becoming a process that is much longer and in-depth than I ever expected.

Honestly, I don't know when Peru and the people I associate with it are going to stop invading my subconscious. I imagine the process will be like the process while I was there. It's very possible that in a year's time there won't be any of Peru in my dreams at all. And that thought makes me sad. But it's nice to know I'm not alone in this feeling, and I know that even if the dreams stop I'll always have others to remind me of what I'm so worried to forget.

Premonitions and life lessons; a 6-month-post-service update

Today marks six months since the day I left Peru. It seemed like an appropriate milestone to write a post about, and to start I want to tell you a little story.

This story didn't take place in the last six months. It didn't happen in Peru, either. It actually happened just four months shy of leaving the US and embarking on my two-year journey in Peace Corps. I considered not making it public knowledge (you'll soon see why), but after some reflection it seems appropriate.

It was early spring of 2011 in western Oregon, the sky a constant dull gray and days only changing from rain to mist to rain again. I worked at a coffee shop and distracted myself from leaving for Peace Corps by marathon training and keeping my hair a fiery "hot-tamale" red with nearly obsessive straight bangs. Anything, really, to make me feel like I was in control. But those things could only distract me so much. It was as if I was sliding down a hill that suddenly dropped off as a cliff, and I was clutching at anything to keep me in place. And it was in these gray, rainy days as I grew nearer my departure date into the great unknown that I visited a psychic in Portland.

(I could hear your eyes rolling from here. Humor me and read on.)

I went to a reputable psychic, a beautiful and tall middle-aged woman whose clairvoyant powers lay in touch, or clairsentience. And so after sitting in her cozy and warm office with the sound of water trickling through an indoor fountain and a recording of classical piano echoing from another room, she held my favorite pair of earrings and asked me what I wanted to know.

I suppose I could've asked all the traditional questions: questions of my love life, my career, my future family (alright, I eventually did ask those questions too, it was an hour long session after all. But that's not the point). I only went there, though, for one question:

Was I going to be okay?

Peace Corps was something I had wanted to do for years before I actually applied. It was a nagging at the back of my mind, the poking finger that told me I really didn't know my own strength until I'd pushed myself further. It was initially a point of contention with my parents, and over time they gave me their blessing. But then, weeks before I received my invitation to go to Peru, Dateline aired a piece on the ugly side of Peace Corps and sexual assault/rape incidences and lack of support for the victims. Suddenly everything was thrown into question and I almost withdrew my application. I came face-to-face with a very real risk as a woman volunteer that I had refused to address. In the end, despite fears and worries for my safety, I accepted my invitation. And in accepting I felt like I was opening myself up to a whole new world of danger and hurt unlike I had ever known. It was incredibly frightening.

And so even though there is no way that anyone can truly know, I needed to know-- would I be okay? Would I be safe during my Peace Corps service?

She closed her clear blue eyes briefly, peacefully, and upon opening them looked directly into mine and said, "You're going to be fine. You will be safe. You are intuitive, and that intuitiveness will help you take care of yourself and to know when a situation is good or bad. You will meet some of the most amazing people, and they will change your life for the better. The people there will be in awe of how tall you are. They'll love you, and you'll love them. This is going to be a wonderful, life changing experience for you. I see nothing but good coming from it."

I took these words, whether because I wanted to believe them or I needed to believe them, and I held them close to me always. There were times as I travelled or walked alone in the city and had that nervous, alertness that could so easily slip into fear when I told myself, "you will be safe, you will be aware, you will know when a situation is bad." There were days during training and in site when I hated every single person around me and wanted nothing more than to be alone and I told myself, "these could be amazing people that will change your life for the better." When I fretted over arriving in my site and whether I would do a good job, or simply whether I should be there at all, I said, "they'll love you, and you'll love them." This was my mantra. Sometimes I didn't believe it. A lot of times, actually. Sometimes saying it was the only thing that kept me from giving up.

Everything she said came true. And honestly, I don't really care if it was a real prediction or an optimistic guess. I needed it to be true, and it became my truth.

Now, post-Peace Corps, returning home...she didn't say anything about this period of time. Then again, I didn't ask. I never gave a whole lot of thought to what life after Peace Corps would be like, because why wouldn't it just be awesome? Being home with loved ones? Accomplishing a life goal and real-world experience under my belt? The backyard BBQs with fresh cut grass, drinking clean water straight out of the tap, walking down the street without a single eye on me or comment on my appearance....Why would I worry about that time? I knew reverse-culture shock was hard and that I would be sad to leave Peru, but this...this is something no one could've prepared me for. Even after people told me I could flail, I could flop, I could go months without a job, I just didn't know.

I was warned that "coming home is the hardest part." But I never thought I'd be going on six-months of unemployment, unable to even get an interview for office jobs answering phones. I didn't predict that I would feel so worthless and useless while remembering the hard, frustrating, but meaningful work I did in my host-community. I had no idea isolation and loneliness in my own home, in my own country, could outweigh what I felt in a completely foreign land. Adjusting isn't just remembering to put your toilet paper in the toilet, or to shake hands as opposed to kissing. It doesn't have to do with table manners, or the inflection in your voice as you ask for a favor, or showing up on time to meetings. It is learning how to live with who you are now, where you are now, with everything you've come to know and be. It's coming to terms with your beautiful and ugly memories. It's forgiving yourself for the things you can't change about your service, and forgiving those around you for simply not understanding. I spent two years adjusting to a completely different life, with different friends, and it was really good and really bad and utterly life changing. And then literally overnight, I was home. I'm back where I was, but I can't just go back to who I was or what I was doing. I don't know how to fit who I've become into where I am. And I foolishly thought a lot of those simple cultural things would be the only things in my way to readjustment.

And to be honest, admitting all of this is kind of embarrassing, like admitting I paid a psychic to make me feel better about a huge life-changing decision. I hate that this is so much harder than I ever expected and that I haven't figured my shit out yet. I hate that I don't have a job or some kick-ass plan to save the world or really any sort of plan that makes me at least look like I know what I'm doing.

So that's what I'm doing right now. I'm pretty lost, really lonely, extremely frustrated, and trying not to be like Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite, bragging about high school football and stuck in the past.

I've considered going back to the same psychic. I'm ravenous for any sort of consolation, anything to hold onto. I need to know good things will eventually start happening, that I will eventually get a job, that I will serve a purpose, that the dust will settle from this two-year cloud. I know this can't last forever, but when will it end?

I have a feeling I know what she'd say. I can already picture her peacefully close her eyes, and upon opening them look into mine and say, "You're going to be fine."

Losses, gains, and rediscovering community.

Every time I was away from my Peruvian town, whether I was on a weekend trip to my regional capital or a vacation, there always came a point where I felt a sudden nagging:

It's time to get back to site.

And at two months since I've been back in the USA, the inner guilty feeling of, "It's time to get home and get back to work," has been going off the charts. Only I'm not going back to work in my small town in Peru. I have no projects that need tending or socios that need rousing, and my host family isn't expecting me home for dinner. I'm not a Peace Corps Volunteer anymore, and haven't been for awhile. This changes the feeling of nagging guilt to a feeling of loss. A loss of community, a loss of friendship and family, and mostly a loss of identity.

So where am I at all this time after being home? Am I readjusted? Well, yes and no. The US is no longer the strange home I had been missing with sudden glaring characteristics I hadn't noticed before, but certain aspects of it have yet to seem "normal." I no longer eat like I'm on a weekend binge in my regional capital, scarfing down everything I missed for two years, but certain food items like cheese and salad never fail to make me feel blessed. Grocery stores no longer bring me to tears with the overwhelming variety and excess, but I still only buy the same few items every time I go as my stomach can't handle the richness of anything else.

People don't really ask about Peru anymore but instead ask, "So, what're doing now?" Even when I call my host family to check up on them they ask, "Did you get a new job yet?" I try my hardest not to start every sentence with, "When I was in Peru..." And so I try to talk about things like the jobs I'm applying for to reassure everyone that I am, indeed, moving on.

And life here makes sure of that. Everything and everyone is on such a strict timeline that they actually follow (imagine that). Everything is so expensive, I watch my readjustment fund I received after completing service slowly trickle away, like an hourglass telling me, "Time is almost up, you need a job."

While day-to-day isn't the constant roller coaster Peace Corps life is famous for, it has hardly been an easy unicorn ride over the rainbow. Within a two week time period both my grandfather and a friend passed away. I have had a lot of blessings and things to be grateful for, but also there has been a lot of loss and grieving. Readjusting in the midst of tragedy is a hard thing to do, and finding some sort of "normalcy" seems like a joke.

But I haven't been suffering these losses alone. A bittersweet part of losing a loved one and grieving is the feeling of community that comes with it. It brings people together to mourn and remember. My family will be reuniting to honor and celebrate my grandfather's life. People from all over are coming together to mourn the loss of a shared friend in my town. And I should add, I'm glad I am home for this. I of course wish these losses never happened, but I would rather be home than in a different country unable to connect and mourn with those around me.

While I have "lost" my place and sense of identity as a Peace Corps Peru Volunteer, I am once again, like my whole service, not alone in my feelings. I have a community of RPCV friends who finished their service as well and are readjusting to American life. Maybe they're on the other side of the country, but they are going through many of the same feelings. And while I am missing my Peruvian community I have come home to my family and friends that were waiting with open arms the whole time. Maybe it was a strange re-entry, maybe I felt out of place and awkward, but they saved a place for me all along.

My Peace Corps Family-- an ode to my fellow volunteers

When it's time to say goodbye, you have to do it right. And in Peru that means having despedidas, or, going away parties. Obviously in the States this is something we do as well, but in Peru it's pretty much a requirement. I have something like six despedidas planned for my last week in site, including the day I have to get on a night bus to head to Lima. I will literally be partying until my last hours. Last night I had my first despedida, and that was with all of the Lambayeque volunteers for those in group 17.

In case I haven't made this completely clear, Lambayeque is the department I live in and there are something around 30 volunteers here (over 200 volunteers in all of Peru including all of the departments). My training group, 17, is the group I arrived to Peru with which is comprised of small business and youth volunteers, and there were five of us from group 17 that moved to Lambayeque. In Lambayeque we also have volunteers from other programs, like environment and community health.

Site assignment day in training, we found out we'd be new Lambayeque volunteers August 2011

Lambayeque 17ers at COS May 2013

I don't think I've ever taken the proper amount of time to explain just how important the other volunteers have been in my service. I mean, these people are my people. I think that no matter what, no matter where I am in the world, when I meet another RPCV (returned peace corps volunteer) I will have an automatic connection to that person. Doubly if they were in Latin America. Triply if they were in Peru. My fellow 17ers, well, they're like the equivalent of my graduating high school class; a lot of really close friends, some acquaintances, some people I don't really know but in the end I'm still going to care about where they end up in life. And my Lambayequanos? The Lambaysexy crew? These people are my family.

Before I joined Peace Corps I was pretty sure that I would be making lifelong friends in Peace Corps. In fact, I counted on it. And when I first met my training group I was like, "Okay...these people will be my best friends eventually...right?" You know, it's really weird to meet a bunch of strangers from all over the US and to suddenly be stuck with them for 9 hours a day, day-in-and-day-out, and have them be your only compatriots in a completely foreign land while you're dealing with a lot of stressful adjustments. You bond quickly, but you also get on each other's nerves real quick. In fact, many times during training all I could think was "get me away from these people!"

Peru 17 from beginning to end. From Sabrina!

I made good friends in my training group, but many of us were separated amongst different departments, making it so we only saw each other on vacations or in-service trainings. I called all of my training group friends regularly, but within my department it took longer to get to know people and have friends to meet up with.

I couldn't even pinpoint exactly when it happened, but there came this point when the people who were once strangers and acquaintances that seemingly had nothing in common with me prior to Peace Corps suddenly became the people who understood and appreciated my feelings and experiences better than anyone else. The "older" generations of volunteers gave sage advice, while my fellow 17ers empathized with me as we seemingly went through all the same phases of ups and downs. And soon after that it wasn't just that we could bond over how tiny the poop-sample cups were at the lab, or funny parts of being a foreigner in Peruvian culture-- like judging beauty pageants and drinking endless cups of hot chocolate at parties on hot summer days-- but I came to appreciate their company, understand and admire their strengths, and love their quirks.

I don't know if I could ever write anything to do justice the strength that is the volunteer connection, how great my friends are from Arequipa to Tumbes (two opposite ends of Peru) or just how truly proud and honored I am to have worked and lived in Lambayeque with such hard-working, dedicated volunteers. All I can say is we have shared a part of this life that has forever changed me and I have learned many lessons from them.

So to my fellow volunteers: you have been there for me when I was down, you've celebrated with me when I was up, and you've weaseled your way into my heart over boxes of Gato and fuentes of ceviche chatting about life, love, Peru, and poop. I have made connections and friendships in my Peruvian community that have been life changing, but this experience wouldn't have been what it was without you. And honestly, I don't think I could've done this without you.

And now the hard part-- returning home where we will all be spread out over the span of a country that is far bigger than Peru!

To my predecessors, thank you for all the advice and friendship you've given which has made a huge impact on my service. I totally expect to continue receiving it as I embark back into US territory. To my 17ers, NAILED IT. I don't care how far apart we'll be, lets talk real soon and road trip, mmkay? To my 17ers staying for a 3rd year or extending, you guys are badass and I have mad respect for you and know you're going to continue to rock it. To my Lambaysexies, keep up the Lamba-legacy of awesomeness and success! 18ers, soon this will be you so aprovechan this experience all you can, the last months fly by fast! 19ers and 20ers, I'm so glad great people keep joining Peace Corps so that even halfway through my service I could make fast friends with awesome people like you! One more year, and you guys are going to rock it! You're the old and wise ones now, wear that badge proudly.

I won't be able to see a lot of volunteers again before I leave Peru, and that is really hard to believe and I get pretty emotional just thinking about it. But it's all going to be okay. Just remember, it's not "adios," it's "hasta luego."

a photo so good I need to post it on my blog twice! Love you Lambayeque!

That time I got really nervous about going back to the USA

This is it guys. Fourteen days until I leave Peru, eleven days until I leave site. Camps are all done, projects have been completed and closed, and all that's left is saying goodbye.

I am getting a lot of mixed reactions from people about coming home soon. Newer volunteers cheer and tell me how exciting it is that I've completed service and am finally going home. People in my site beg me not to go. People back home can hardly believe the time has finally come for my return and are planning visits. Volunteers in my group share the stressed exasperation of both being happy to return and sad and overwhelmed to pack two years of our lives into two bags and say goodbye to our communities. It's pretty safe to say, all of those reactions mirror every feeling I have about coming home. Overall, it's pretty emotional.

A couple weeks ago I was talking with an extended host family member and they asked me if there were a lot of differences between our cultures. And I kind of drew a blank and said, "No, there aren't that many differences." You know you've been away from home for a long time when you can't come up with at least 10 cultural differences between Peru and the USA. There are huge differences between Peru and the US. I had some of the worst culture shock I have ever experienced while adjusting to life in Peru. And the scary part is they always say, "going home is the hardest part." I'm not gonna lie guys, I'm nervous.

One of my biggest stresses about going home is how I will react to the reverse culture shock and how I will behave back home. So I decided to list several of the perceivably "strange" things I might do upon my arrival, or things that will take time for me to adjust to. Hopefully if you see this list before you see me you'll be prepared to handle any awkwardness.

Technology and pop-culture baffles me
Thanks to Facebook and the internet I haven't been completely behind the times on everything, but that doesn't mean I'm by any means up to speed. Before I left for Peru I had a handful of friends who had iPhones and iPads, and now it's apparently the new norm. Everyone is talking about apps and things like Instagram and Snapchat and using acronyms like YOLO and smh and I literally have to look it all up online or ask a friend back in the US to explain it to me. So, if you refer to something and I give you a blank stare, remember I've been living under a rock called Peru. But if you have any questions about cumbia music or what happened on Al Fondo Hay Sitio last week, then we can talk.

Claro, I can hablar en Ingles
Despite English being my mother tongue, I have really lapsed in being able to use it well in regular conversation, especially without Spanish sprinkled in. All of my interactions all day, every day, are in Spanish. All of the volunteers live this way, so when we spend time together we're on the same page linguistically, I guess you could say. It's safe to say the Peace Corps Peru official language is Spanglish, as any conversation we have together is completely filled with Spanish and words that are neither fully English nor Spanish but some weird hybrid. It's the fastest, easiest way for us to talk. Sometimes I can't even remember what a word is in English, I can only think of the Spanish translation. Así es. So I may tell a clerk "gracias" or talk about how I'm going to aprovechar a restaurant buffet, and I may just sound like I'm speaking gibberish.

Don't swear, it sounds like sh*t
One of my favorite things about living in Peru is my ability to say whatever I want in English wherever I want without anyone (well, the majority of the time) understanding me. It's like having a secret language. And the result of two-years of unfiltered conversation with my friends in public is something that may be shocking, rude, and inappropriate for US standards. Those of you who knew me back home know that I have a tendency to swear like a sailor. Well, this scalawag has been away from shore a bit too long, and my regular conversations with friends make an episode of Deadwood look like a chat over coffee. In fact, that is what our chats over coffee look like. This also includes talking about personal issues (like how much diarrhea you had last night) or mentioning that the person sitting at the other table looks attractive/ridiculous/funny/etc. Essentially, anything that pops into my head is coming out of my mouth. And I can already see my friends back home saying, "Wait, she could get worse?" Yes. And it is. And I'm afraid for what I might say.

No cutting!
I think I may actually be really happy about this change-- people actually form a line while waiting for a service of some sort in the USA. In Peru it's pretty much a free-for-all with elbows flying and what we refer to as the "Peruvian shuffle" as someone slowly and not-so-discretely squeezes in front of you in line. However, I may not be used to forming a line. If you see me cut an entire line of people and push my way to the front, I'm sorry. Just add it to the list of embarrassing things you will endure with me.

Look Ma! This bathroom has toilet paper!
I'm going to be really excited about really little things. I mean, really excited. When my friend Becky came to visit we went to a grocery store in Lima where they typically have more diversity in products and upon seeing a shelf with almond milk I gasped and screamed, "ALMOND MIIIIILLLKKKK!!!!!!!!" because I hadn't seen it in a year and a half and had practically forgotten it existed. And it's going to be like that with everything. Toilet paper and soap in a public bathroom (and being able to flush the toilet paper!). Clean water that comes straight from the tap. A grassy lawn that I can sit on. The ice cream section of the grocery store (actually, any section of the grocery store). Streets without trash covering them. Healthy dogs (that aren't stray). Cheddar cheese. Hopefully within the first week I'll get over most of these things, but be prepared for some seemingly un-necessary ceremonious celebrating over little things.

Pass the Pepto, and give me a plate of rice
One of the things I've been literally dreaming about since the first week I left the USA in 2011 is food back home. God, I have missed it. And it was quite the adjustment to Peruvian food at first. In fact, in one of my first blogs on the food here I made the statement of how I didn't like it all that much. Well, the tables have turned. I love Peruvian food. I have no problem eating a ton of rice. In fact when I go on the rare and few trips to eat "American food" I usually end up sick afterwards and just wish that I could have something simple like a plate of rice and a fried egg. American food is rich, too rich for what my body is used to now. Not to mention I think I've become slightly lactose intolerant from my low dairy intake. So while I am still excited for food back home, I'm probably going to be sick for awhile. Odds are I'm also going to complain about prices/availability of produce.

No fork? No knife? No problem
Just thought I'd add, my eating habits aren't quite as "proper" as they once were. All you really need to eat in Peru is a spoon and your hands...and a lot of times I opt for the hands. I apologize if the way I eat ruins your appetite.

And the list goes on...
There are many, many more things I have gotten used to here that I know will be different back home. I'm sure a lot of the adjusting will be internal and not so easily seen by everyone around me. It's going to be hard to deal with leaving my host family, work, community, and friends here in Peru. I have a life here that I'll never be able to return to. It's going to be an adjustment to return home where everyone's lives have continued on without me and finding where I fit back in. Just remember that I've been gone a long time and we all have a lot of catching up to do. Luckily I have awesome friends and family who are understanding and love me no matter what. It's all part of the big adventure, and now we're sharing it together.

Camp VALOR, where Iron Men are made

Hellohellohello! It is time for me to tell all you lovely people about my very last camp as a Peace Corps Volunteer -- our all-boys' camp, VALOR.

If I haven't made it perfectly clear, I just gotta say camps have been one of my absolute favorite parts of Peace Corps. All of the volunteers from our department come together to program three days of activities and educational workshops for some of the best kids from our very own communities, and every time it's a great experience. 

A lot of times while working on projects in site, volunteers will feel discouraged or frustrated by lack of interest or participation from people in the community. But in each community there are always those few kids or people who are interested, motivated, and make all the difference in those projects. Well, just imagine when every volunteer brings those kids--those active, involved few-- and they are all brought together. BAM! Magic happens.

But really, the camps are where it's at. It is so different from anything Peruvian youth are used to doing. In general Peruvians don't spend the night away from family or go camping, so to have both of those things coincide makes it pretty special. I also love that it gives me an opportunity to work with the other volunteers in my department and get to know them and people from their community better. 

Before I tell you all about camp and the boys I brought this year, I want to make a special shout-out to all of my friends and family who donated to help make this possible! We use a Peace Corps grant system in which 40% of the funds are raised by local communities in Peru, and the remaining 60% comes from donations. So thank you so much to Ann T. (OR), Brandi W. (OR), Carrie M. (OR), Claudia C. (OR), Geno L.III (WA), Jennifer L. (LA), Lee S. (ID), Mackenzie R. (AZ), and of course my awesome Mom!! It means so much to me that you guys would help out with this project, which truly helps influence Peruvian youth in a healthy and positive way. And special shout-out to Nicole and Sam, former Lambayeque volunteers who donated. Miss you guys!

As I mentioned in the past, Camp VALOR (Varones Adolescentes Lideres Organizados y Responsables) is our all-boys' leadership camp that is three days and completely programmed and run by PC volunteers from within the department. Last year one of our superstar volunteers, Terrace, created a program in her site called "Iron Man" which was based off of a program she had participated in at her high school in the US. Its about being a physically, mentally, emotionally fit individual who takes care of themselves, their community, their environment, and learns from the past while helping to build a better future. Sounds like a lot, right? Well it is, because it takes a lot to be an Iron Man.

We loved the idea from last camp so much that we stayed with the theme this year as well. We decided we also wanted to add an extra emphasis on machismo and not just talking about gender equality, but everyday cultural things they so often take for granted and maybe don't realize are sexist or discriminatory. 

Some of the activities over the three-day camp were:

• Career assessment exams/Career fair with Peruvian professional men invited from different volunteers’ sites. 
• Session on raising cuy, ducks, and bees for both personal uses or business opportunities (this is both common and lucrative in rural Peruvian communities).
• Two-day futbol (soccer) tournament amongst all the teams. 
• Presentation and activity about famous Peruvian women in history to emphasize sex and gender/gender equality.
• Round robin sessions on goal setting, pro-active lifestyles, team building, empathy, correct condom use, fidelity and finding your ideal partner. 
• Organic farming (also very pertinent to Peruvians from rural communities where agriculture is a large portion of jobs and income).
• Trash management-- composting, recycling, and emphasis on not burning trash.
• In-depth session run by a health professional on Sex, STD’s, Abstinence, Fidelity
• Campfire with s’mores, scary stories, and singing (a very U.S. American tradition we introduced to them), one of my personal favorites. 
• Cuerpo de Pasión, a telanovela inspired skit performed by volunteers with themes of the dangers of unprotected sex, infidelity, and general shenanigans. 
• Even more stuff than I can even begin to talk about!

The camp was held at the same location we had our last two, which is a local NGO eco-center that our superstar Hallie works with. Like camps in the past, participants were divided up into teams which were led by two or three volunteers. For extra incentive, throughout the camp there was a point system in place to motivate the campers to be punctual and participate in all the activities, and at the end of camp winners were recognized for their hard work.

I could go on for forever about camp, but as usual photos are better. Be sure to check below where I have profiles written about the boys I brought!

John talking about what it means to be an Iron Man

The shirts! We re-used last year's design, by yours truly. 

Learning about raising cuy and the three different breeds at the Eco-Center

Ducks!

Playing soccer and working towards the championship round

The boys performed skits based on the lives of famous Peruvian women in history

Learning about different types of vegetables and gardening

Our regional coordinator, Renato, sharing the experience with his daughter. Renato was also a speaker at the camp and a great example of an "Iron Man". 

The condom race! Correct condom use, of course, being the main point. 

Reviewing their career assessment exams and where their strengths and interests are.

Lambayeque Peru 17! Our last camp together before some of us finish service, while others stay on for a 3rd year

One of the boys I brought winning the "Overall Camper" award! So proud!

My boys! I chose to bring boys from my health promoters group, Pasos Adelante. They did so great and impressed all of the other volunteers with their motivation, participation, and general awesomeness!

Medina

This is my man Luis, but I always call him by his last name, Medina. Medina is the strong and silent type, but by no means afraid to express himself or participate. I brought Medina to last year's camp and  afterwards he became one of the members and best participants in my health promoters youth group. Medina lives a little further outside of my town, but he is never late to activities and in fact is usually the first to show up. Generally youth are only allowed one time at camp but we decided to have "super star" participants come back to be leaders in the teams, so I asked Medina to come to be a super estrella at camp! As always, he brought his positive attitude and awesome leadership skills with him and shone like the super star he is!

Williams

Williams is what I would call one of my "medio-bandito" students. He has been involved in almost every project I've ever done, he just spends most of that time staring off at girls instead of doing his work. He is small even by Peruvian standards, but is one of the biggest stars in my community with his singing. This kid has no fear on a stage! I invited him to camp because I hoped that it could motivate him to realize his potential to become a big leader amongst his classmates and within his community.

Jason

Jason really surprised me during camp. Within the first few hours of being split off into teams I heard other volunteers talking about him and his support and sensitivity to another camper as they discussed the discrimination this particular camper was used to receiving due to his femininity. As camp went on he became an obvious leader amongst his group by setting a good example to others, participating fully, being respectful in his interactions with others, and just being a model individual in every aspect. The reason this surprised me is because I almost didn't bring him. He can be a real handful at school with his rambunctiousness and sometimes acting out, and I've gotten pretty frustrated with him in the past. I think what it comes down to is he isn't challenged enough in his school work and is often surrounded by students who are a bad influence. Watching him come out of his shell at camp and not only do well but excel was amazing. He was such a model participant he won the "Best Overall Camper" award, which was voted on by all of the volunteers. I'm so proud of him and hope he can see all the good he can do.

Gerardo

I know I shouldn't pick favorites, but even amongst my favorites Gerardo is the tops. Since day one in my community he has made an effort to make me feel comfortable in my new home. I actually almost didn't bring him to camp either because he is such an exemplary student he is given more opportunities to participate in leadership events than other students are. However it worked out that he could come and he of course impressed everyone with how rad he is. Gerardo is kind, intelligent, talented, easy to laugh, and a gentle soul. He is graduating high school this December and while at camp he told me he's planning on going into seminary to work towards becoming a priest. We had a long conversation about it, and while his choice is very different from my own cultural norms and ideas, I know whatever he does in his life he will excel at and help others. 

As always, camp was a great experience for the volunteers and the campers they brought. I'm sad it was my last camp, but happy that I was able to bring the boys I did. If I could bring all of my boys, it would be even better, but these guys will just have to lead by example to help create a better future for Peru!

I'm on my knees, beggin' you please!

Holy cow, guys! Almost 2 months until I go back to the USA!

But that doesn't mean my job is done yet, oh no, there is still so much to do. Like this weekend we are having our annual ALMA all-girl leadership camp. It's an awesome three-day camp with a focus on integral health (mind, body, spirit) and caring for the environment. It's going to be awesome, because Lambayeque volunteers are awesome and all of the girls being brought are some of the best and brightest from volunteer communities.

However, we still have one issue-- the all-boys camp, VALOR, which is scheduled for the end of June is still not fully funded!

(Want to check out the donation page? CLICK HERE!!)

I am really lucky to have awesome friends and family who have donated to all of the camps I have done over the past two years, and I already know of so many who have donated to this camp and have promoted it to other family members and friends. To all of you beautiful people (you know who you are), you have made such a huge difference by helping make this camp happen, and I am eternally grateful for the support you have given.

So this isn't a call to all of my same friends and family who are always donating to my things. No, this is a call out to the depths of the internet, the end of the universe and back. We are so close to being funded, just $370 away, but if we don't get all the funds by next week we will have to re-budget the camp and make cuts. That could mean less participants, less resources for workshops, etc. That amount of money can make a huge difference in these camps!

For a refresher on what Camp VALOR is, here is a little summary of camp from last year:

Our theme last year (and this year) is "Iron Man" and the boys participated in different activities to promote the lifestyle of a true Iron Man, which we described as being physically and spiritually healthy, studious, intelligent, respectful, tolerant, caring for the environment, honest, a good listener, hard working, loyal, respectful of women, and responsive to the needs of their community. In other words, a well-rounded, successful individual who doesn't subscribe to machismo or bigotry.


Some activities from last year that will be repeated (and even made better) were:

• Career assessment exams/Career fair with Peruvian men invited from different volunteers’ sites. 
• How to make a solar oven and how it works 
• The nutritious power of sweet potatoes and yams (grown at the farm) and different ways to utilize them in cooking and baking. 
• Arts and crafts/painting small figurines. 
• Two-day futbol (soccer) tournament amongst all the teams. 
• Presentation on Sex and Gender/Gender equality 
• Round Robin sessions on goal setting, pro-active lifestyles, team building, empathy, and finding your ideal partner. 
• Organic farming/ composting/ recycling 
• In-depth session run by a health professional on Sex, STD’s, Abstinence, Fidelity, and the infamous Condom Race. 
• Campfire with s’mores and scary stories (a very U.S. American tradition we introduced to them), one of my personal favorites. 
• Even more stuff than I can even begin to talk about!

Iron Man camp t-shirt design (by yours truly!)

Solar oven session and learning about renewable energy

Composting session

Harvesting sweet potatoes for session on nutrition

Sex and Gender workshop

Love and relationships talk 

Scary camp stories and s'mores

All the awesome atributes of an Iron Man!

Futbol tournament

Team Morado!

"Cuerpo de Pasión" telanovela style skit

Everyone together!

This upcoming Camp VALOR will be my absolute last camp as a Peace Corps Volunteer. Last year this camp was so great and the boys I brought had an absolute blast! They ended up being some of my best students in my teen health promoters club, and they have continued on in their studies to be some of the best in the class with dreams and goals for the future. They are very bright students with bright futures, and I know part of the reason they feel empowered and capable to do these things is this camp and support shown by all the volunteers and guest speakers.

Please forward this on to friends, copy it on to your facebook and twitter and whatever other fandangled social networks have been created in my absence, and help us fully fund our all-boys camp!

Every bit makes the difference, I promise! It's tax deductible, and every penny you donate goes directly to the camp.

DONATE TO THE LAMBAYEQUE 2013 CAMP VALOR!

Much love!