Been Away, but Now I'm Back Today

Well, I finished up my service in Sausal, moved all my sh*t to Lima, put it in storage, grabbed my plane ticket and I've been home since December 22^nd and returning to Peru this evening.  One of the perks of sticking around for a third year is that you earn a round trip ticket and 30 days home leave. So I definitely took advantage of this, tacked on a few extra days of vacation and have got to relax with family and friends.

Is it weird being back? Well yes and no. I was home for a week in May for a wedding, but time blurred by – there was always somewhere to go, someone inviting me to a beer. Being home for much longer is a bit more relaxed. And the readjustment curve isn't as drastic since we don't exactly live in the bush in Peru. But in some aspects, it has been a bit odd, overwhelming, and agitating.

Buying Wood

I remember a while ago, during a presentation on his field work in Nicaragua, a certain professor mentioned that you shouldn’t expect to get more than two things done during the day while in Managua. 

I thought about that as I rode the bus home today around 4pm, after a long and drawn out journey to buy wood and tin sheets for bathrooms.

You see, buying wood (or anything) isn’t as easy as walking into Home Depot, loading it into a cart and then packing it up into the SUV (although Sodimac, a South American hardware store, bears an eerie resemblance to Home Depot right down to the signage).  Nope.  First off, in small towns it’s hard impossible to get wood.  Long pieces of 2x4s are coveted more than precious metals.  And you just can’t go to a carpintero (carpenter). Why?  They only work with wood, not sell it. Duh!  So instead, I had to journey out to the regional capital just to get wood for some simple door frames.

I'll give you a play by play of my day, the journey to get wood (heh)….

How do you pack for two years of your life?

This is the wrong question to ask yourself when packing for Peace Corps - whatever country. Although you’re going away for two years, you don’t need to pack for it.  You could walk onto the plane with a carry-on and be set. Seriously.

Why?  Well, people live where you’re going.  You’re not going to live out in the middle of nowhere, and this is not a camping trip.  You may be living in rough conditions, maybe without light or running water, but never the less people live there and have for generations, and will continue to after you leave. People buy and make clothes, wash themselves, wash their homes, sleep, wash their clothes, make their own food, and do pretty much everything else that you do. It might be a little different but that’s why you signed up, right?

Coming back home (to both of them)

 

It’s weird being a visitor in your own country.  After a while, it felt weird telling people I was going home for a visit.  Home? I thought I was pretty well established here in Sausal, but all the same I still had my other home.  Before I left for Peru, I wasn’t planning on coming back during my two-year stint.  I knew I’d rather travel around a bit during Christmas and there was something hardcore about not going home.  But in Peru, the vast majority of volunteers go State-side at least once during their service (usually during the end of December or May/June for graduations). 

And to be fair, I didn’t really experience the reverse culture shock while home.  Sure, oftentimes I felt lost in conversation if people were talking about family news (if it isn’t posted on Facebook, I usually don’t hear about it) and anything minor that’s been happening the past few months.  But I spent the week at home in family surroundings, I slept in the same room, went to the same bars, even went to my old high school to talk for a bit. Nothing was really ‘weird’ while I was home or different from how I remembered it from when I left.  Maybe I was just home for a quick whirlwind and it was too short to really notice any changes or have to deal with re-adaption: I could still be the annoying Peace Corps volunteer who starts their stories with “In Peru, we….” to mark any dull difference between what I was doing in Peru and what I was doing at that moment.

But this time it was a little harder to leave home…..

So you’re coming to Peru – clothes and what to bring

 

I can’t remember if I actually wrote at one point about packing and such for PCTs coming to Peru, but might as well do it again (assuming I’m awesome and completed the task in the first place).

The skinny: packing for Peru is easy and hard. Easy in the fact that Peru has a lot of stuff available (well, stuff that you need) for purchasing and the cold hard truth is that no Peruvian I met has an REI membership but somehow manages to get by day-by-day. The hard part is that in Peru is: you don’t know whether you’ll be in hot or cold climate and that some sizes are hard to get. For the climate thing, bring stuff you can layer (i.e. long sleeve shirts, sweaters, flannel shirt, fleece jacket) so you can transition from hot to cold in style. I would advise bringing a big ass jacket – if you need it (aka if other people wear it), you can buy it closer to your site (full disclosure, I live in the coast).

Speaking for men (the often forgotten gender), pants are generally made for short people around here. So getting something to fit my 6’2” 33/34 frame is tough. In fact, I’ve never bought pants in Peru. Shorts, yea. Pants, nope. They never really fit right. Shoes are the same issue. If your foot size is around 44 or less (look up the converstions yourself), you should be ok. My 46s just cant seem to squeeze into too many of the black market shoes available here. Even department stores have a limited supply of my clown shoes.

So what to do?

For clothes - I actually recommend around 3-4 pairs of hiking pants (think North Face, ex-Officio, Columbia) that are tough, durable and that preferably look like regular pants rather than something off the front cover of the North Face catalog. While you won’t be battling the wilderness every day, your pants will face the rock and brush of clothes washing and these brands usually hold their own. Even the campesinos wear buttondowns and trouser pants, so I had to leave some of my choice t-shirts at home. Simple short sleeve button downs or plain t-shirts can work. Oh, you’ll be line drying your undies, so no white underwear unless you want to show off your skid marks.

Shoes – I wear my boots like a mofo. Everywhere I go is flat, but since they’re closed toe and pretty durable it works. Sandals are a no-no if you’re in ‘work’ mode. I have a pair of sneakers, but they get beat up here in the desert so I only wear them sparingly. But when I go home for a visit, I will be bringing back a few extra pairs. Trail shoes are also a popular choice.

Backpack: I have a regular American jansport backpack that I use for everyday use and weekend travel, and a hiking backpack for extended trips. For coming to Peru – I brought my hiking backpack (50L – 65L is recommended), my Jansport backpack, and a large army surplus duffle bag – which I haven’t used since I got here.

Although, many volunteersvolunteers also sport the ubiquitous Peruvian market bag to carry their accessories. Provided my base camp is a hostel room, these bags (teamed up with a Jansport) hold a ton of stuff, and don’t stick out as much as a big hiking pack might. Available at any market place in Peru, these stylish bags are available in a wide variety of checkered colors (red/green/blue) as well as with Disney characters.

Beyond clothes and shoes, you really don’t need too many accessories. Laptop (definitely), some kind of MP3 player, maybe battery powered speakers, small mag light, rechargeable batteries, USB drives (a big one and one or two small ones), some books to read and trade around, and bring a few momentos from home. I have a sleeping bag and pad that gets used once in a while, but I’m not a big camper.

Weird things I brought for mementos: Homer Simpson bobble head (been following me since college), Terrible Towel (I’m a proud Pittsburgher), a few t-shirts that remind me of home (including a Sydney Crosby shirt and Doink the Clown), and a bunch of photos. I have a wall covered with photos from home, and (soon enough) of stuff from Peru. It brightens up the room, seeing the drunken smiles and being reminded of drunken memories.

I can’t really think of stuff that I brought but don’t use…largely because it’s probably stuffed in the back of my closet and will be pulled out come mid-December (COS).

You’re going to overpack. Just don’t do it too much.

Should I bring an iPod?

 

So I try to balance this blog with both information relevant to future Peace Corps volunteers, ideas of what it’s like in Peru, and thoughts on development/Peru/Peace Corps in general.  It’s gotten a little serious, so here’s an easy one:

Should I bring an iPod (or any MP3 player)?

Yes.

Your music will save your sanity.

While a laptop is a larger beast and might stick out more, the MP3 player is pretty common around these parts.  Most kids in my town have USB memory sticks filled with music and then connect them to their moto-taxis, radios, or this recently introduced MP3 ghetto-blaster boombox.  It’s like a boom box (fierce speakers, battery powered) but instead of cassettes or CDs, you just plug in your USB and it automatically reads your MP3s. 

I don’t walk around listening to my iPod all the time and really only use it when I’m traveling.  For the long bus rides (or even the 2 hour rides to the capital city) or travelling, it can’t be beat. When I’m traveling around and staying overnight, I’m likely to stay in the cheapest place possible aka dorm hostel rooms.  The MP3/iPod can be a great friend against the snoring backpacker and/or loudly blasting music and/or drunken chatter.

What type should I bring?

I have one of the big iPod classics, and I might actually recommend against that.  It’s bigger so not as easily to keep in your pocket, but it’s good to have all your music in one place.

I also use a 1GB iPod shuffle, which is easier to move around with but alas has limited capacity.

Something you might want to consider is bringing an iPod touch. It can play music, videos/movies (great for long bus rides), and can connect to WiFi which is usually available in the capital cities.  Phones like Blackberrys and even iPhones can be seen in Peru (well the rich parts of your capital city).  Even for me, the WiFi makes the iPod Touch really tempting to buy.  Especially when coming into the capital city for a few hours, having the WiFi capabilities to check email/Facebook/news beats the hell out of lugging my 15” Dell around town.  So if you’re in the market for an MP3, consider the iPod touch.  But, at the same time, don’t go out and buy one if you’re short on cash and/or already have a fully functioning MP3 (part of the larger scale disease future Peace Corps Volunteer shopping sprees at REI).

And I know that I’ve only been listing the iPod and it’s because really, I have no idea what else is on the market – so make substitutions as necessary.

The Gringo as the Development Actor

 

“People from developed countries who do development work have not made common cause with the poor of the world. It doesn’t matter if you’re with a large international NGO, a small DIY operation, a hulking multilateral like the World Bank, an Irish rock band, the Peace Corps, or whatever. Even if you move to a rural village on your own and live like the locals, you’re still there by choice. That’s a key difference between you and your neighbors that can never be overcome, no matter how much you love each other. You (and I) grew up in a very different environment, with relative luxury and a very different health and educational system. You probably have resources and contacts that could take you back to the US or wherever. You might care a great deal about the fate of a poor community, but your fate is not the same as theirs.”

-Dave Algoso
Find What Works Blog

 

Peace Corps volunteers have the privilege of being able to leave the communities they work in.  We can leave our communities for the modern capital cities, eat some higher end foods, have a few beers and crash at a hostal/hotel.  Even moreso, if we really feel like it –we can go back home.  Either visiting during Christmas, or just deciding to early termination.  We can go back to our lives, our friends, our families in America. Hell, we have a plane ticket guaranteed!  If we want to early terminate, Peace Corps buys your plane ticket home and within a week you’ll be home. You leave.

And as much as you can be integrated in your community, you’ll leave.  You’ll leave all the problems that you see, all the social injustice, the poverty, the hardships your neighbors deal with. You’ll leave the challenges and the hurdles that you and your counterparts dealt with in order to work with a group of families and gain government money for a few small projects.  And while the children continue to get sub-standard education, you can go back and apply for graduate school fellowships for your two years of work. 

It’s harsh, but it’s true.  

Peace Corps also encourages volunteers to stay for third year positions: country initiatives, volunteer leaders/coordinators, Peace Corps response. Peace Corps encourages volunteers to stay in site for a third year and continue to work in their communities. In many ways it makes sense, especially instead of sending a new volunteer.  The 3rd year volunteer is already integrated and known, knows the community needs and resources and can be more effective at motivating and executing a project plan this time around.  And besides, two years really isn’t enough for any long standing change.  But really, when opportunities for promotions are up and all your PCV friends have left (aka a part of your emotional and technical support), how do you feel about sticking around and putting your life in the States on hold for a year?  Especially when you can just leave and go back to the States and still get a sparkling review. 

I’m guilty of this.  While I want to stay here in Peru for a third year, I’m set on a position with more leadership involved.  PCVLs and PCVCs also work with other NGOs, IOs, or government institutions at a higher level.  It’s more prestigious for me and allows for more experience. I’ll also live in a larger city, either the regional or country capital, with more resources and distractions.  I considered sticking around in my community to continue working but am probably not going to.  But why? My municipalities (local, district AND provincial) support me and show interest in my plans and the work volunteers here do in general. My socio is great, and there’s no lack of work to be done – especially in health promotion.   

But that begs the question – where does it stop? There will always be work to do here, whether I stay or not. But regardless, it shows that I still have that option.  Does that make me selfish? Does this make me less committed?  Wish I had an answer.

Two Shows About Peru

Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations: Peru"

Bourdain travels around Peru, samples the food and takes in the culture.

National Geographic Channel Presents "Worlds Apart: Detroit Meets Peru"

A well to do family from Detroit lives with the Peruvian Indigenous peoples for eight days.