Yesterday my alarm goes off at 543am as it does every weekday. Like a pro, I put my contacts in in the dark, put on the same clothes Id run in for the last 5 days (lets just say they smell "fresh") and head out to the Parish to meet Manini for the morning run. It is one of those runs where I feel like I could go forever (despite the fact he has to throw rocks at TWO dogs cuz they were lunging for us!). We run about 40 minutes and then I head home. My host mom, Paulina, has a smoothie waiting for me as she does every morning. This one has mostly strawberries in it. Most of the time I don't know what I'm drinking, but its always good :) I finish getting ready for the day by taking a bucket shower. Ive got it down to a pretty good science where I only need to use 2 buckets of water to get "clean", although I don't really mind the cold water as the temperature outside is getting warmer.
8am is when Morning Prayer starts. Between getting ready at my house and heading back to the Parish for prayer, I usually have enough time to check email (and usually not reply to any haha) and eat a peanut butter sandwich. Monday, I get to prayer about 5 minutes late and then for the next 5 minutes try to be secretive about fumbling through the prayer book to find where the heck we are reading from. I wasn't sly enough though, because someone finally taps me on the shoulder and points to the page number where we are at. Shoulda probably just asked in the first place!
Prayer usually lasts about 30 minutes and then there are always a few minutes of announcements afterward. If I listen carefully I can pretty much understand what is being said. This time I decide I don't really need to listen. Then I fill up my water bottle and ask one of the guards, Jose, to walk me to Corazon de Jesus where the PT clinic is. Right off the bat, I almost get hit by a taxi. I swear, they purposely speed up and veer towards pedestrians if they see you trying to cross the road. In college, I remember confidently walking into the road, not checking for cars, figuring they'll stop when they see me. This is NOT the case in Chimbote.
Anyway, Jose and I continue the 7 or so minute walk to the clinic talking about novias and novios (girlfriends and boyfriends), how Peruvian women are extremely jealous, and how so many volunteers that come here end up marrying a Peruvian. This is basically a conversation I have everyday with at least one person. By now, I'm a pro at saying "amigos solo" (just friends), "Yo no quiero novio" (I don't want a boyfriend), and "no entiendo" (I don't understand) to any reply after that :)
We make it to the clinic and nobody is there. Luis, the guard at Corozon de Jesus comes and tells me there is no PT, because there is a big meeting having to do with money or something like that. Which if I HAD paid attention at announcements after prayer I would've known about. Oops! So back to the Parish we walk, trying to convince Jose it is good to be friends rather than confessing your love to someone you have only just met and who really doesn't speak the same language as you!
For the rest of the morning I help Fr. Jack with office work. Its pretty comical when the computer is involved. He hates using it and gets so frustrated. So instead of sticking it out and learning HOW to use it, he lets me do it all. I consider myself an expert at looking up names and addresses on whitepages.com and can cut, copy, and paste with the best of em! But if I never have to address 100s of envelopes at a time, look up an address in a notecard "filing" system, or alphabetize things again, I think I will live a very happy life! 4000 Christmas letters will do that to you.
We stop working about 1pm and then it is lunch time. Maggie and I eat ceviche at one of the restaurants in town. It costs about $5 to do so. I don't do it much, but its a good substitute when I'm getting really sick of white rice. Ceviche is pretty darn good anyway, fresh raw fish with a lemony-cilantro sauce, kinda spicy, and lots of onions.
After lunch, it is rest time until about 3-330. Sometimes I actually read or take a quick nap, but most of the time I use it to email, type up exercises or instructions for PT, or other computer stuff. Its surprising how quiet and shut down everything gets around here. Also a good time to play with the puppies as they usually let the wander around the parish at this time. Yesterday, two more were given away, and now there is only one left!
After siesta, Katie and I tour homes with her host mom. These are homes other short term volunteer groups have helped build when they come to Chimbote. The reason for these visits was a follow up to see how things were going, see how many people lived in the house, what they did, and what their hopes and dreams were. I am stoked to go along because I haven't been in very many homes since being here. She had 8 homes on her list and of those, 4 were around to talk with us. I bring my camera with and get a lot of outside pictures, but feel pretty uncomfortable intruding on peoples personal lives by taking photos inside their homes.
There is a lot of variety to the homes we went to, but all are very poor. Estera walls and roofs make up the homes. Dirt floors throughout. There are various "rooms" to the homes and some have a sheet or blanket hanging for a door. Cardboard boxes or various other materials are used to fill in more open areas of the roof so the sun doesn't shine in too much, drying everything out. Old calendars make up the majority of decorations on the walls, but their are some photos as well. In one house, chickens, dogs, and cats are running around. Another house has 9 people living in it, I think, with children ranging from 16 to 2 years old. All the children in the houses hope to one day work as a professor, doctor, police officer, or the clothing industry. It is really encouraging to hear those dreams and hopefully they can stay in school and have the means to accomplish that. The homes we are in all have electricity (I'm not sure if its on all the time). In each neighborhood there is a spigot that is turned on from 5 to 7 in the morning where everyone comes with their buckets to get their water for the day. All in all, I am impressed with these homes and the people in them. Filth and structure aside, the families are trying to make them homes. The furniture might be plastic stools, a bench made with a 2 x 4, or mattresses without sheets. The children play with lumber scraps or old plastic bottles. But everything is kept up well and as clean as possible.
We go back to the Parish just before 6pm. I hang out a little longer before heading home. My host sister, 3 year old Julia is waiting for me to get home. She loves to come into my room and play with my stuff. Her favorite is my camera. She likes me to take her picture and or try to take some on her own. But her fingers are always covering the lens. No matter how hard I try to show her different. She also likes looking at my photo album and putting on my headbands. Dinner is at 7pm. The menu is raw potatoes with some kind of cheese sauce, rice, and chicken. Pretty typical. Paulina asks me if I want to try something. She says the name, but I don't know what she is talking about. You'd think Id have learned my lesson by now. Its olives. She puts three in with my potatoes and cheese. Black olives are on my list of things I REALLY cant stand (along with tomatoes and chicken tacos). Buuuuut....technically I asked for them. So I swallow each whole, trying not to really get the taste in my mouth at all.
My host dad leaves in the morning for medical treatments in Lima, so last night is the last time I will see him. He is always fun to talk to. We spend an hour chatting after dinner is over. Maybe you wouldn't really call it chatting though, more like me listening (and for the most part understanding) what he is telling me (usually about history of Peru, the US, religion, etc), but not really being able to add much more than "si", "no se", smiling, frowning, or laughing. And lots of nodding!
By the time I leave the dinner table it is almost 845. I am EXHAUSTED as I usually am at the end of the day. I attribute it mainly to being outside in the warm, humid temps all day and working so hard to understand enough talk that is going around me. I read for a little bit and am asleep by 10.
And that's it, a typical day in Chimbote. And by typical, I mean never really knowing what is going to happen. Yesterday, the "plan" was to go to PT in the morning and the daycare (la cuna) in the afternoon. Oh well!
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