Free Trade Agreement?

http://www.worldpress.org/Americas/2993.cfm

You may or may not remember that a few years ago there was a free trade agreement in the works between the United States and the group of Andean countries. Now it's just Peru! It's been a topic of conversation several times in our political science class, so I thought you might want to read up on it. In the opinion of the man who came to speak to us about globalization, this agreement would do great things for Peru's economy and not much for the U.S. other than give us an in in Latin America to try to shove out the influence of Venezuela's Hugo Chavez. It may also be difficult for Peruvian farmers to compete with farmers in the U.S. who are receiving subsidies. Corn, for example, is a major crop here.

I thought it was important for me to inform you as your representative from Peru about what is going on of importance politically/economically in these parts. In the most recent democratic debate (with I watched half in Spanish so Edson could watch with me) this was a talking point. So now you know! What do you think?

Me voy por avión

I’m sad to say that the end of my time here in Peru will soon come to an end. Can you believe how quickly the months have passed? At times it felt like it would never end but now that it is the time is slipping through my fingers and I will be leaving in less than a week. Tears will be spilled for sure when I leave my family and Denis and everyone else that I’ve met here. But I’ll also be thrilled to come home. So I’m stuck here in the middle, torn between two worlds I love…

Things I Won’t Miss About Cusco

• the number of stray dogs on the street that could decide to be rabid at any moment (I have a pretty irrational fear built up and I still avoid the mean dog down the street)
• the lack of toilet paper in every bathroom
• cab drivers that get a little too personal and/or try to give you the gringa price
• the forever uneven sidewalks that create impassable puddles of muddy water
• the cloud of black smog that follows every bus
• the river lleno de garbage
• the fact that in the touristy areas my white face says dollar signs to every vendor within a three mile radius
• the amount of gas I have at this altitude and not being able to control it at key moments… haha…

Things I Will Miss TERRIBLY About Cusco

• Being able to communicate in SPANISH all day every day
• My family and our little house with the white picket fence
• When Edson decides to sing a song while wearing a shawl over his head like a widow
• Greeting every single person with a kiss on the cheek when I walk in a room
• Being called “Laurita”
• Hearing a song I like on the radio and telling the cab driver to turn it up!
• The orange roofs and the blue, blue sky
• Hearing the doormen on the combis speak like auctioneers as they fly by
• Watching the ladies from the campo with their mantas and realizing just when I am right behind them that they have a little baby wrapped up in those blankets on their backs
• Buying Princesa bars at a grocery store called La Canasta (the basket)
• Listening to my sobrinos (nieces and nephews) play and hearing Estrella say funny things like ‘aña instead of España and saying “mío” all the time
• Meeting Denis and speaking our own mixture of Spanish and English while walking in the rain every time
• The satisfaction of grasping a great deal more about the politics of Latin America than I did when I came
• Eating mangoes, Maria’s hot chocolate, choclo and the big popcorn it makes, quinua, coca tea, muña (the Peruvian mint)
• My favorite tree in all of Cusco
• My favorite plazoleta
• Dancing my heart out at Garabatos
• Playing with the kids at Conchacalla
• Maria’s smile that only fades when she yells at me to wear my coat!
• The fact that every single child I have ever seen here has been adorable
• That certain place on the way to school where the cab and combi drivers always cross themselves
• Watching women weave or spinning their alpaca yarn
• The Andes
• Evelyn’s accent when she speaks English and the way she says everything is “superlindo”
• The heavy, warm alpaca blankets on my bed
• Cusqueña
• Edson, Evelyn, Denis, Maria, Esmeralda, Milagro, Irma, Lucio, Pepe, Suci, the really nice smiley man who sits at the reception desk at the CBC, the girl in the bakery who’s learning English, the old man who sits on the stone with our street name every morning, the ladies selling papaya with their monotone voices, etc.

Tú vives equivocada

Sometimes I get really mad at Peruvians. It’s usually when I leave political science class. A lot of times it happens when we’re discussing the government’s use of funds. But most recently it had to do with their treatment of the environment.

There’s a river that runs through Cusco called Huatanay. It runs right by the Molino, and right by the neighborhood in San Jeronimo where we start going up the mountain to Conchacalla. It is hands down the dirtiest river I have ever seen in my life. It looks like a dump. It is absolutely full of every piece of trash imaginable. It’s a nasty color. It smells. It makes you want to vomit.

One day in political science class Carlos brought in a guy who I believe works with the municipality to talk about Peru’s environmental policy. Carlos is very proud of the fact that some of the “rights” included under the constitution of Peru (which has been rewritten more than 12 times since Peru became a Republic) are rights that protect the environment and animals. It sounds really wonderful and cutting-edge. Certainly a lot better than what we have in our own country, but unfortunately it’s not put into practice. The speaker went on and on about how great these laws are for the whole class. Afterwards is when I dove in.

I didn’t hold back. I asked what was being done. I asked why Huatanay was allowed to remain that way in a country with laws designed to protect the environment. I asked what kids were being taught in school. I asked why there weren’t recycling programs. The answers: there is no interest, there aren’t really any student groups like Greenthumb fighting to get things done, and that there has been pressure on the government to clean up Huatanay for years but it has never been done. That Peru doesn’t have the resources or technology for a recycling program.

And he’s right. The bigger issues here in Peru are putting food on the table, finding stable employment, trying to get an education in the country declared the worst in primary education, and in getting through university when the professors are on strike half of your college career. It’s hard to think about the environment when your only goal is to survive.

But I had still hoped for more out of Peruvians. And in reality they aren’t completely oblivious. Edson himself once mentioned wanting to have a tree planting day and I’ve talked with him multiple times about the lack of green space in the city (he blames the architects that design the parks here). Carlos talks about Huatanay every chance he gets on television. The laws for passage on the Inca trail are becoming stricter an effort to preserve Machu Picchu. (In exasperation, I was citing the rules in Machu Picchu and wondering how the Peruvians could have pride predominantly in the pieces of land that could generate profit.

What ended up being even more saddening for me than the lack of drive of Peruvians to fight to preserve the incredible beauty of their land was the ignorance of one of my classes on the abuses of the United States to the environment. She was for some reason defending the U.S. after the speaker had spoken of our contribution to global warming. She was unaware that we did not sign Kyoto. She was arguing that Peruvians contribute more to the destruction of this earth. I felt frustrated by her lack of knowledge and the fact that her questions were getting in the way of the pressure I was trying to put on the speaker.

Because of all of this, I am unbelievably grateful for what I have in the form of Greenthumb. Our little environmental club faces obstacles, challenges, and frustrations in Lexington, but we keep fighting. We see the need and we will make sacrifices to try to chip away at the damage we are doing to our Earth. If any of you are reading this, know that we are a powerful group and that we have an extremely noble cause. And any change we are able to make is going to help Peru, which is one of the places in the world most impacted by the changes caused by global warming. The same people chucking their chicha bags in the river are watching as all of the snow in their mountains dries up and their corn crops are ruined by later and later rainy seasons. My hope for Peru is that it will someday arrive in a place where the environment becomes more of a priority, but until then we will have to work individually and through groups like Greenthumb to make sure the people of the Andes don’t bear the brunt of the suffering and sink further into poverty.

Another time I was more shocked than mad. The subject was violence in the politics of Latin America. My professor began to talk about all of golpes del estado and military takeovers, guerillos, and terrorist organizations. Later he talked about what violence is to Latinos. He said that when Latin Americans can’t get what they want through the system legally, they will use force. He called violence a resource that they can always turn to. He even gave an example about a cause of his own and said he would use force if necessary to achieve his goal. Needless to say, it was a little disturbing to me, forever the idealist. But it’s certainly true in terms of history.

Later when I talked to Edson about it I got a different perspective. He was surprised that Carlos had used the word “resource”, but he said this idea was human nature. Violence is what happens when people can’t get their way peacefully. He cited the worker’s riots in Chicago and said that in some ways America had started it all… Latin Americans learn about those riots in school, but I can’t recall when I might have studied those riots. The Chicago fire gets more attention.

As I thought about violence in our own country, I realized that we may be a bit guiltier of using it as a resource than I’d realized. George Bush certainly seems to view it as a resource, and at times bypasses attempts to get what he wants peacefully or with the guidance of the United Nations.

So here I am with my frustrations at Peruvians that turn out to be frustrations at my own country and humans in general…

Sometimes I get really mad at Peruvians. But maybe I should direct the greater part of that anger back home.

Todavía diahrrea

The title of this blog entry is the name of a song that my friend Amy is going to write about her experience in Perú. Unfortunately, it also describes our trip to Machu Picchu.

The first day we met up with our guide Johan (who had an annoying habit of saying señoritas about a thousand times per sentence) for our 6 hour hike from km. 104 on the camino Inca. I thought that it would be fairly leisurely, having heard that it was the easiest hike you could take to Machu Picchu. I was wrong. It was really hard. A lot of the time I could barely breathe. I had to be given oxygen several times. It was quite scary. I guess being here 2 months to get used to the altitude wasn't quite enough time for my poor lungs... At least the path itself was beautifully green and full of flowers and trees and all the things I've been missing in the dry season in Cusco. I just wish there weren't so many steps... I can't even imagine doing the 4 day hike! Most of the group did do that one, and they haven't come back yet to report on how it went.

When we finally arrived at Machu Picchu to catch the last bus down to Aguas Calientes, we were able to see Machu Picchu as the sun was setting behind the mountains. It's really an incredible sight, a gigantic stone playground that was once an amazing city full of the religion of the Incas and wondrous irrigation systems. I was too tired then to enjoy it, but I figured I had the entire next day...

We hiked up the hill to the medicinal baths that gave Aguas Calientes its name. They smelled a bit like egg drop soup, but they were pretty southing after a long day of hiking. Then we ate dinner at a small hole in the wall of a restaurant that I am now blaming for the stomach problems both Amy and I woke up with the next day. What a ridiculous day to be sick! I was pretty disappointed, but I pushed myself enough to take the tour up and down the city for a few minutes before I was too exhausted to move anymore, having only eaten crackers and running to the bathroom at least every ten minutes. Fun times. Hopefully someday I can go back and experience Machu Picchu the way it should be. But for now I'm probably going to look back on it as poopy times.

Luckily for me my stomach issues seem to have cleared up pretty quickly at this point. Last night I was able to go out for dinner with Edson and Maria so that they could try falafel. As far as I could tell they liked it. I think they actually liked the hummus best. This weekend I'm planning to go camping in Pisac with Evelyn and Edson, so I'm pretty excited about that! Until then, I hope these blog entries have satisfied you and filled you in on all you've been missing.

I miss you all!

Fotos para ver

Here are some links to more photos from recent events. Enjoy!

http://utk.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2169509&l=a84d5&id=12900100

http://utk.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2169517&l=daea0&id=12900100

Mis cumpleaños

My birthday here in Cusco ended up being a blast. Of course I missed my family and Jesse and all of my friends back home terribly, but I made it work here!

A few days before Halloween I convinced Edson and Maria that we had to have a jack-o-lantern, so we went on a quest with Evelyn at the Molino to find the perfect calabasa (which I always learned was the word for pumpkin). It turned out calabasas were not much like pumpkins at all. They're a lot smaller and an entirely unsuitable shape. So then we started looking for a good zapallo (squash which also sometimes means pumpkin so I'm kind of confused, to say the least), but they were all HUGE... about 25 kilos each... So we didn't find one that day at the molino. But the next day Edson went out and brought home a nice, round, green zapallo that could sit up on its own! So we got to work. We decided to make a traditional face since this was the first jack-o-lantern for the household. Edson was really into it and he did most of the carving himself. I was really thrilled by how much he enjoyed it, and how Maria and Evelyn ooohed and ahhed and wanted to have their pictures made with it after we put in the vela (candle) and put it outside in all its Halloween glory.

On the night of Halloween, my sobrinos (niece and nephews) came over and Edson and I took Valeria and Eduardo to the plaza to go trick-or-treating. It was really interesting to experience it in a different way. Valeria was the evil witch from snow white (although I'm pretty sure she thought she was the princess), Eduardo was hombre araña (Corey and Jonathan would get along well with him) which from what I could tell was the most popular costume of the evening. I was a cuy (that's right, a guinea pig) and Edson was Pablito or Pablucha, a guy from a legend about a girl who got raped by a bear and Pablito saved the day by killing the oso. His costume was pretty awesome. You'll have to consult the pictures.

To say "trick or treat" the kids would just scream "HALLOWEEEEN" at each of the stores in the plaza. By the time we got there, almost all of them were saying "ya no hay" since they had run out early on. Clearly these people have not yet mastered the concept of Halloween. But they do it in their own way, I suppose. It was really cool to be in the plaza with all the lights and a TON of parents and children. It was a little bit more magical than walking down the streets of Greenbriar, but it didn't have the same neighborhood feeling when you ring the doorbell and see someone who has essentially watched you grow up and knows it's your birthday so they give you a dollar!

After we went around the plaza for awhile, we headed back since Eduardo was almost asleep and just barely trudging along. Estrella was there too, but her fear of masks kept her from going out in her cute Tinkerbell costume. She probably stayed at home where she could rule everyone by looking cute and screaming, "agua!" because she didn't want to eat. Anyway, we got back home and started getting ready for my birthday party! All the students in the program came along with my friend Denis and her friend Rocío. Most of the ProPeru girls were dressed up as "revolutionaries" including Tupac Amaru, Fidel Castro, and Che Guevara. Essentially their costumes involved drawing mustaches on each other and wearing hats. Although Michelle's Che costume was pretty convincing. Dane, Grant, and Carly wore traditional outfits they rented complete with limp stuffed llamas. I really enjoyed the party, and probably drank most of the cuba libres (coke and rum) available. During the course of the evening, each of Maria's other children called me to say Happy Birthday! We went out to the plaza shortly afterwards, but I didn't last long.

It was really an amazing birthday. Thanks to everyone who sent me something in the mail or wrote me an email or a facebook message or even sent me warm wishes! I'm a very lucky girl. It was a great birthday! I'm 22!

Viajera solita

BOLIVIA

Next stop: Bolivia. I left the other girls with a German, dread-locked friend we made at the bus station to catch my bus for La Paz. I was on my own. Ahh! I was on my own!

It didn’t end up being that scary really, in fact a lot of what’s between Puno and La Paz is considerably more flat than Cusco. My first bus was a group of students from all over the world (Israel, Korea, England, Denmark, and Switzerland to name a few) all taking a bus to Copacabana, Bolivia which is just over the border. The border wasn’t so eventful, just some stamps and a little kid who spoke all kinds of languages just from working selling cigarettes and candy there on the border line. I felt somehow less worried or daunted being with a group of people my own age all in it for the adventure and excitement! Of course, none of them seemed to be traveling alone.

We made it to Copacabana in time for the sunset at which point the seven or eight of us NOT going to Copacabana were informed we had to switch buses. Okay, no one mentioned this! Stay calm. We got on a bus full of jolly traveling Peruvians and continued on our way. It quickly became dark, and in what seemed like the middle of the night the bus came to a halt. Tired, disgruntled Peruvians filed off the bus as if stopping here is routine. Well. Okay. Maybe this is a bathroom break? The seven of us silly tourist students left on the bus were next informed that we would be getting off to take a boat. A boat?! What?! Are we at the ocean? No one said anything about a boat! But we filed off, me taking all my luggage and wondering if I would be stranded in a strange Bolivian city. Turns out there is a small stretch of water (El Estrecho de Tiquina if you ever travel from Peru to Bolivia) that you must cross to save four hours of driving time to La Paz! It costs 1 Boliviano and 50 centimos and you get an exciting midnight boat ride (or daylight, of course)! It ended up being beautiful to sit there with the other student travelers (we had a boat to ourselves because we were the clueless ones who got on last) under the starry, starry sky of the Southern Hemisphere.

It turned out the 3 Koreans in the boat were filming a documentary as a final project for school. They were very energetic and talkative, and spoke English quite well but very little Spanish. One of the guys was the camera man and another was going around the boat asking for the complete story of all present. What? You’re from Kentucky? KENTUCKY FRY CHICKEN! Without fail that is what they know of Kentucky. When the Swiss couple across from me (French Switzerland, sorry Jesse) realized I was traveling alone they were impressed. You’re traveling alone?! You must be so brave! Yes, they too spoke English as did the entire student bus. We really need to catch up to this knowing more than one language phenomenon! Their comments only made me feel more alone and frightened as I glanced at my watch and realized my chances of making it to La Paz to catch the last bus for Oruro were pretty slim…

Needless to say, we made it across, and the bus went in its own little boat and then we all piled on for the rest of the ride. When we got to La Paz, I asked a cab driver if he knew when the last bus would leave for Oruro. He seemed to think there was one left (this was at 10:30), so I decided to make a run for it despite offers from the friendly Swiss folk to share a cab to the main square and help me find hostel. I ran into the bus terminal (a big, fancy yellow one like a girl from Cusco has never seen!) only to hear the ladies singing out another city name. I asked hopefully, “Oruro?” but the lady just shook her head and said “Ya no hay!” And that’s when it hit me. I was alone in a city of a million people. I had no guide book, no idea of a hostel, and no internet café to check for the one Tiffany had sent me. There were lots of lights and endless hills of lit up houses and plenty of areas that were probably dangerous that I had no clue about. I started to panic. But, behold, I saw the light of the information booth and I knew what I had to do. I asked the woman for a safe hostel. She pointed across the street to a place called El Tambo de Oro or something like that. So I went, with my bags, asked for a room, called Tiffany using a funky calling card with a chip that I bought from the front desk, and went to sleep.

It’s nice to know in some ways that I am capable of traveling alone at night in a foreign country without getting mugged or having a nervous break down or wandering into the wrong side of town. But do I want to do it again anytime soon? No way. I much prefer traveling with someone I trust. Is that the State Farm motto? Sorry. But really, I love traveling, but not alone. I want someone to laugh with and take pictures with and chuckle about that unexpected boat with! What is a trip without a friend? Lonely.

I finally made it to Oruro the next morning (and learned that a bus filled to capacity is not really to capacity if the aisle isn’t filled as well) and my friend Tiffany at the bus terminal. I felt so at ease to see a familiar place and know that I was safe and not alone. She introduced me to her peace corps friends and peace corps life, as well as the decidedly non-touristy destination of Oruro. We ate pizza and had beers and watched Grey’s Anatomy (sometimes sitcoms from the homeland can be extremely comforting, okay?!). The next day we went to Huari, the town where she is living in the altiplano of Bolivia. The altiplano, as you may guess, is high and flat. It’s a desert climate. There aren’t many trees. But there is a beer factory and one of the most beautiful sunsets I’ve ever seen and plenty of kids to run after Tiffany crying, “Profe!” They really do ask where she has lost herself when she is gone. She is the local gringa celebrity. She lives in a purple house and cooks gourmet meals on her miniature stove and has learned to save water because a lot of the time during the day there is no running water. I enjoyed my time with her a great deal, and was glad to have been brave enough to travel alone to visit her even for a short time! I even got to go with her to buy her bicycle in La Paz!

So I returned home, this time on what claimed to be a direct bus but didn’t turn out to be (we had to switch yet again when we got to Peru). I sat next to a nice Irish girl who happened to also be traveling alone in South America! I also talked to a Norwegian girl who would soon be visiting Houston, Texas and who missed chocolate a great deal and had not even a hint of an accent in her English. It was a much more tranquil period of travel, even when the woman took my ticket and never gave it back and I had to explain that to the ticket guy when we changed buses…

I was so unbelievably relieved to be back in Peru. Cusco really felt like home to me, and just being here and knowing I would soon be in my own bed under the Van Gogh copy done by Edson with my host family who takes care of me and worried an amazing amount about my terrible sunburn. Home, sweet home. At least for now.

Puno Quema

Hello everyone!

So as you may have noticed it’s been a really long time since I’ve written.

And I have a lot to fill you in on! So I’m going to separate it into different blog entries for organization's sake and so you don’t have to read it in one solid sit at the computer.

I have good news about my camera! It’s fixed. The day before I left for Bolivia (as much a procrastinator as ever), Evelyn’s younger sister Suci (I believe her full name is Suciel or something along those lines) was kind enough to take me to her friend who knows how to fix cameras. Evelyn was actually the one who called him up and she only referred to me as a friend so he wouldn’t know I was a gringa and give me a gringa price. Or maybe just because I am a friend. Anyway, Suci took me to this guy’s house. We went into a weird dark garage-like room and he looked at my camera. He didn’t know if he could, but he agreed to try to fix that day for the low low price of 60 soles (which is 20 bucks, so literally, a steal). Later I went back with Edson and he had fixed it! Hooray! I couldn’t believe it! It felt like a miracle. I mean, can you imagine getting a camera fixed for that cheap in the US? I sure can’t.

So I was ready to depart. I packed up all the traveling essentials (which ended up fitting in a small duffel bag and my backpack, and prepared to leave that night for Puno, Peru which is a town right on Lake Titicaca in the southern part of the country. I traveled to Puno with three other girls from my group: Amy, Emily, and Michelle. It was my first cross-country South American bus ride! Relatively uneventful. We got to Puno at about 5:30 in the morning on the day of Peru’s census. For the census everyone has to be shut up in their homes so almost nothing is open. We were able to eat breakfast at a little restaurant at the bus terminal. From there, we hauled our bags to the port to find out about visiting some of the islands on the lake. We found a guy who offered to let us stay on his island called something with an A (I’ll look it up for you), which is a four hour boat ride from Puno. So we went! Unfortunately, my sunscreen-slathering ways didn’t protect me from the terrible sun rays reflecting off the lake (which is huge, by the way… at times you can’t see the other side and it feels like the ocean) while I was sleeping with my arms flung over the side of the boat and my shirt riding up on either side. I ended up getting the worst sunburn of my life, one on each side right above my hips. Just perfect for pants-wearing. Later it blistered and peeled and screamed, but you probably don’t want to know about all that.

First we stopped at the Uros which are a small group of man-made floating islands. They’re really cool and made out of some kind of masses of organic matter and carpeted with reeds. They use the reeds to build their houses, build their boats, build their islands, make cool crafty reed things for the tourists, and sometimes they even eat them! I tried the reeds, and they tasted a lot like celery, only they were spongier. One of the men on the island we visited gave us a spiel about how they live and then we ooed and aawed at the reediness of everything and then we left. We made it to the A island where we stayed with a woman who seemed perturbed that we would only be paying for one meal as we had brought food for the rest. For that reason, she generally laughed menacingly at everything we said and made herself an enemy. The island wasn’t all that exciting, while obviously extremely beautiful. It seems almost the entirely livelihood of the place is tourism. We walked all around and watched the sunset. We talked to the sheep that the woman we stayed with (Serafina) owns. They were nice. Then we slept (me on my stomach since there was no sleeping on my sides this time) and got up early to take the boat back to Puno. This time I stayed inside.