Saturday, September 26, 2009
Me Encanta Colombia!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
We sing. We dance. We break things.
Above is a photo of my Perú friends, Cinthia and Carlos. Next to me is the other Carlos. He seriously put his head on my shoulder when we took the picture like he was my bloody pet dog or something. I mean seriously, a little space please! I tried climbing up the wall to escape him but had no luck. He spent the rest of the night pretending like he was my blanket. Luckily pitcher after pitcher after pitcher of sangria calmed my anger.
First up singing a little karaoke: Carlos looking somewhat apprehensive (but adorable) singing some Spanish song I can´t remember...
Then it was my turn... Before we left the house, Carlos asked me if I would sing in Spanish. ¨Carlos, give me a couple drinks and I´ll sing in Russian if you´d like!¨ Yikes! Little did I know how hard it would be. I ended up loosing my place in the first verse. It was horrible (meaning I was horrible). I was only able to shout out the lyric, ¨Damelo!¨ [Give it to me!] once after what felt like a half an hour of silence... I mean seriously horrendous. Note to self: drink much much more sangria before attempting to sing in Spanish... and learn how to point microphone towards mouth.
Singing Madonna´s, ¨Like a Virgin¨ with Cinthia. Hilarious! Thank goodness 80´s pop is so popular down here. You just can´t go wrong with it...
...and our grand finally: singing Destiny´s Child´s ¨Jumpin´ Jumpin´.¨ How awesome is it that Carlos knows that song!?!
After karaoke we went to a discoteque called Taj Mahal. The Taj Mahal is pretty much just like any dance club back home just with the addition of seizure inducing strobe lights and the overuse of fog machines. One other thing... it was saturated with the smoke of a thousand cigarettes, a characteristic I have happily forgotten since the 2008 smoke ban in Illinois. Anyway, it was definitely another upscale place and it even had a dress code posted outside. Yay Taj Mahal!
... And so I attempted salsa again and this time I felt a little more coordinated. I mean, look at me, I even managed to dance and wink at the same time. I´m still working on dancing, winking, and smiling... some things just take time to learn.
Above is a photo of my ever annoying blanket, me, Cinthia and Javier (a friend of Cinthia´s). Javier was bastante barracho and super fun to dance with. He spent most of the night throwing me around the dance floor while I just tried to cling to his jacket and not fall down. Basically I was like a big gringa bumper car knocking down the little Peruvians around me. Love it!
... Cinthia and Carlos. This was probably taken at 4am after a lot of dancing and a lot of cervesa.
Yep, lots of cervesa... How did I not feel Cinthia´s tuff of hair all up in my face!?!
... this one is somewhat better although I think it was taken earlier in the night.
Anyway, I made it out until 5:30am, in bed at 6am (At last South America is seeping into my blood!!!). We finally left after a fight broke out, a glass was thrown, a girl fell down way drunk hurting herself and a kid was forcibly escorted out of the bar by four bouncers... just like being in Chicago. Anyway, above is suppose to be a video of the beautiful people of Latin America dancing but you can´t really see them so enjoy the music. Other songs I remember hearing that night:
Andy Montañez feat. Daddy Yankee - Se le ve - Love this song!
Pittbull - Calle Ocho - Sweet! This song´s been popular in the U.S. since sometime this past winter. I finally understand what is being said in Spanish and it is somewhat ridiculous... you´ve gotta google it. Anyway, now the lyrics are forever stuck in my head. Luckily I amuse my co-workers whenever I sing it... we´ll see how long that lasts.
Michael Jackson - Billie Jean - Was Michael Jackson always this popular down here? I showed off my stellar moon walking moves with this song. Oh yeah, I dazzled.
Black Eyed Peas - I´ve Gotta Feeling - This song was just coming out in Chicago when I left so I was super excited when they played it. I started jumping up in down (heather-mosh-pit style) when it came on, which is sooo not Latin dancing but surprisingly the Peruanos around me followed my lead. It was a beautiful moment... the union of cultures and countries, really.
Tito El Bambino - El Amor - Definitely the song of the moment.
The Ketchup Song - I have no clue who sings this but it was THE song when I was in France, second only to the Monoprix grocery store tune. Anyway, I couldn´t believe it when the discoteque played a snip-it from it. Fabulous.... it was like meeting an old friend.
Daddy Yankee - Rompe
Daddy Yankee - El Ritmo No Perdona 'Prende'
Daddy Yankee - Que Tengo Que Hacer - I just realized that when I look back on my life in South American my memories are going to be accompanied by a Daddy Yankee soundtrack. Oh boy...
Anyway, I´m almost at the half way point of my stay in South America and to celebrate I´m heading up to Bogotá, Colombia next Friday September 25 for an extended weekend getaway. If you don´t hear from me next weekend please contact my friends, Tim and Jung in Chicago. They promised me before I left that they´d come look for me if I were stolen away by guerrillas. But no worries... it´s super safe. So until next weekend, besos!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Adventures in Spanish
I have found that foreign language tends to congregate in a single place in my brain. It must be an extremely small area because there is only room for one foreign language there at a time. I studied German for five years but no matter, Spanish managed to push it out of my brain in no time flat. Every once in a while someone will ask me how to say something in German. If I am indeed able to summon the words, they come out with a Spanish accent - my tongue pressed against my teeth and my soft pallet closed. The words are hardly intelligible and can´t even be counted as German really. So good bye German and if you see French on your way out say good bye to her too because she is long gone. I didn´t even get a chance to say good bye. From here on out it´s just me and Spanish.
Learning Spanish has been a trying process, that is for sure. It has a way of bringing me to my knees and breaking my heart (a feeling I usually only reserve for running high mileage and bad relationships). When I arrived in Perú I was promised it would only take me one month to become fluent. Ha! Says who!?! Now ten weeks into my stay I am far from fluent but I can get by.
Don´t get me wrong, I have had some good times with Spanish as well and while it has a way of taking me down it also gives me wings. The best part of my new found language is simply being able to listen to the everyday antidotes of those around me and being able to tell stories from my past (and yours) while of course adding a little Rink flare (a.k.a. harmless exaggeration). Following are some of my more amusing experiences in Perú, translated to English for your reading pleasure.
- My childhood friend, Bonnie, and her husband just had their second baby, Bennet Mark Engstrom. Being super excited, I told Vicky and Iris about his birth over lunch. Vicky chose not to comment in Spanish but instead shrieked, ¨Eeeeeeee!!!!!,¨ mimicking the screams of labor pains. When she was done with her little show she asked me, ¨When will you have kids?¨ Well, with a display like that how else could I respond except with, ¨Oh I don´t know... 10 more years.¨ ¨Ay Heather!,¨ Iris chimed in, ¨You´ll have too many grey hairs by then.¨ At this she pushed chicha morada on me, a spiced corn drink that is suppose to keep women looking young. Vicky then added, ¨Too old! Most women are grandmothers by then.¨ Oh well, to each their own I guess but what the heck, I´ll take another glass of chicha morada please.
- At La Plaza de la Constitución is toothless Juan, Huancayo´s unofficial welcoming committee. I see him nearly everyday and everyday he tells me the same stories over and over and over again. Our interactions always go something like this:
Juan: Hi friend!
Me: Hi Juan. How are you?
Juan: Yesterday I ran into so and so. They said, ¨Juan, you are very intelligent.¨ I only went to school for one year but I have talked to tourists for 32 years. It is my life. I am no pick pocket. I am a good man. I go home and I talk to God and I cry, ¨I love you God. You are my brother.¨ I am Mormon. I don´t drink or have free sex. I am not married. I am very intelligent. The capital of Denmark is Copenhagen. Your country has 50 states. The capital is Washington D.C. but it is not a state. I speak six languages [by this he means he knows a word or two] Spanish, Quechua, Portuguese from Brazil, English, Italian and German. In Spanish my name is Juan. In English my name is John. In German it is Johannes. I talk to a lot of tourists. I am no pick pocket. People here may call you gringo but you are no gringo. You are not from another planet. You are just like me. I tell those people, [and this part´s in English] ¨F--- you man!¨
Me: [at this point I stop bobbing my head up and down for a moment, taking my motherly stance] Juan that is not nice to say. [He inevitably ignores me and continues on his tirade. I continue bobbing my head.]
Juan: You are just like me but you have blue eyes, light skin and blonde hair. You are very beautiful. Watch out for men here. They are very macho and will say, ¨You are very beautiful. I love you.¨ They will put a pill in your drink and they will rob you and do other things. I am no pick pocket. I am a good man. I am very intelligent... [...and on and on and on he goes. Amazingly enough, he says all of this in one breath making it very difficult for me to jump in and end the conversation.]
Heather: [Eventually with any luck Juan pauses and I am able to speak up.] I am sorry, friend, I have to go to the post office/class/run home/find another crazy to talk to/do anything except stay here with you.
Juan: Okay. Take care of yourself friend.
- One morning, Vicky turned to me at the breakfast table and seemingly without reason said to me, ¨You know you would have boobs if you ate potatoes.¨ WHAT!?! Sweetheart, I´m fairly certain that the only way potatoes would give me boobs would be if I stuffed them in my bra. Seriously!
- At the end of July, when I was in Satipo, I went hiking through the jungle and spent some time cooling off in a small stream I had encountered. By the time I got back from my hike a strange, flush red spot had appeared on my right arm near my wrist. When I showed my diseased arm to Iris and her family they brushed it off saying, ¨It´s just a bite from a very small mosquito.¨
Within a few days we were back in Huancayo and my red spot had faded. Great! So you can imagine my surprise when it was replaced about a week later with a small hard blister. Thinking that the blister might birth an exotic insect I was super excited about the great story I was going to have to tell.
I decided to keep my baby parasite buddy a secret from everyone else in the house until one day I woke up and several more blisters appeared on my arms, around my waist and near my ankles. One baby parasite I can handle but how was I suppose to care for twenty or so? I told Iris...
At first Iris agreed with me, ¨It must be a parasite.¨ (Although I kind of pushed her to that conclusion as I kept linking my blisters with the jungle.) Within a few days though she stopped believing my parasite story and told me my blisters were pulga (flea) bites. Oh! That´s so not what I wanted! I don´t know if it was the look on my face or what but she quickly changed her story saying that I must be allergic to the alpaca sweater I bought (and wore several days earlier) and that´s why I had the blisters. Sure. I have never been allergic to anything in my life but, right, it´s the alpaca fur.
At that moment my dreams of parasites and funny stories dissipated as I realized I had fleas.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
For Your Viewing Pleasure...
As mentioned in one of my blogs a few weeks ago, El Rio Shullcas, the main river that runs through Huanayo, at times turns red. I have absolutely no clue why this is and haven´t had the chance to ask anyone about it yet. Still at this point I am fairly certain that the red color is NOT from the blood of gringos sacrificed high up in the mountains. There just aren´t enough gringos around to produce that kind of volume...
It turns out that the water also turns a lovely green color. What do you think the chances are that this river is Huancayo´s main water source? Oh the toxins!
Until next time! Besos!
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Graffiti
While I am not a big fan of Kirk´s writing (her passages come off as incongruent, bias and ignorant making her an unlikeable character in her own stories) I still managed to read the book in record time. I was enthralled by the stories of the Sendero Luminoso, whose name comes from a speech given in the 1920´s by the founder of the original Peruvian Communist Party, José Carlos Mariátegui. He said, ¨El Marxismo-Leninismo abrirá el sendero luminoso hacia la revolución.¨[Marxisom-Leninism will open the shining path to revolution]... and so the Shining Path adopted their name.
In the 1980´s, the Sendero Luminoso believed that the only way to change Perú was not through drawn out reform but immediate revolution. They needed to destroy everything to rebuild. Bombings, power outages and murders were the Sendero Luminoso´s way of evening out the playing board to create a country without stratification. Still, they ended up killing many of the poor (anyone who would not join their efforts) for whom they were supposedly fighting. The Sendero Luminoso eventually launched a civil war against Perú´s military and police forces and unthinkable atrocities - kidnappings, rape, murder, torture - became everyday happenings in Perú. In her book, Kirk describes scenes of headless corpses lying on the side of the road that, in my mind, conjure up images of Iraq ... whether the murders were committed by the terrorists or the government is anyone´s guess.
It wasn´t until 1992 when Perú´s then president, El Chinito Alberto Fujimori, granted the military nearly limitless power to arrest any suspected insurgents (on April 7, 2009 Fujimori was convicted of human right violations in relation to his fight against the Sendero Luminoso and was sentenced to 25 years in prison). In Peruvian terms, people were ¨disappeared.¨ With basically no rights, according to Kirk, suspected terrorists (guilty or otherwise) were picked up on the streets, thrown into the trunks of police cars, taken to remote destinations and murdered... sometimes with sticks of dynamite in their laps. Despite the morally wrong measures taken by the government, the plan worked. After nearly fifteen years, the Sendero Luminoso all but died out completely. Currently, those on both sides of the war have been granted amnesty. Perú wishes to wipe the slate clean and move forward.
A few weeks before I began reading ¨The Monkey´s Paw¨ new graffiti appeared on a wall that I pass everyday on my way to the city´s center:
From what I could make out the wall says, ¨Viva la lucha del pueblo...¨[Long live the struggle of the people...] There is also a bit at the end that I was stupidly trying to read as ¨a ma 20 nico.¨ The nature of the sentence and the fact that it was written in red made me wonder if it had any ties to Perú´s old terrorist group. Wanting to know what the end of the sentence meant I took the photo to my Spanish teacher, Carlos. Not showing him the rest of the sentence I asked him what ¨a ma 20 nico¨ meant. ¨Nothing,¨ was his response so I showed him the picture. ¨Ah,¨ he said, ¨Viva la lucha del pueblo amazonico.¨ Basically meaning, ¨Long live the struggle of the amazon people.¨ A statement that is in regards to current events and atrocities occurring in the north. I replied with an, ¨Oh... I was afraid that it might be in relation to....¨ at this I paused as my brain searched for the Spanish term for the Shining Path. Carlos finished my sentence with, ¨Terrorists?¨ ¨Exactly.¨ ¨Don´t worry,¨ Carlos said, ¨there are no terrorists here now.¨
It´s hard to believe how recently the Sendero Luminoso were prominent in Perú and I desperately want to ask people about their experiences. As I walk down the street and look at people I wonder what kind of atrocities they have seen, what they have experienced, and the fear that they must know. Knowing it´s a very controversial topic I haven´t asked Iris and Victor about it... although due to their background, moving from poverty to the elite, I can imagine that they could have easily been a target for both the terrorists and the government, not to mention that Iris was pregnant with both of her children during the terrorist´s fall. Due to my close relationship with Carlos and the fact that we were already talking in sorts about Perú´s history, I felt comfortable enough to ask him about his experiences and just hoped that he didn´t mind. He basically said it was a very scary time. He remembers bullets flying through Huancayo, hearing bombs explode and being without electricity. While he was just a child (he is now 32) when the civil war began, he was a teenager toward the end of the war. He mentioned that he and his family were nervous that he would be forced to join the army. He ended the conversation talking about the fall of the Sendero Luminoso, saying ¨We are all very sad about the innocent who were disappeared but at the same time we are happy that the terrorists are gone... It is a very difficult topic.¨ And so I left it at that, not wanting to dig in any deeper than what he felt comfortable with.
On my walk home that day after class I noticed that the graffiti I asked Carlos about was also written on another wall but this time more clearly:
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
So after reading ¨The Monkey´s Paw,¨ and learning only a sliver more about Perú´s sad past, I´ve decided to move on to a more cheery book, ¨Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim¨ by David Sedaris. That is how my reading schedule works down here. I switch between informative books and fun, make me laugh out loud books. It seems as though I´m running out of the latter so if you have any recommendations, I would appreciate it... if you were to send me a used book I would be in love with you forever and ever. I promise. Other books associated with my life in Peru include:
Read Before I Got Here
¨Gringo¨ - Chesa Boudin - This book was recommended to me by a random person at the State Street Borders after he saw me walking around with a Perú travel book. I definitely recommend this book to anyone traveling to South America. Chesa Boudin writes about his many travels to various South American countries over a decade or so and his interactions in their political climates.
¨Banker to the Poor¨- Muhammad Yunnus
Read Here
¨Naked¨- David Sedaris - Any David Sedaris book is FABULOUS!
¨The Motorcycle Diaries¨- Ernesto ¨Che¨ Guevara - Classic
¨The History of Latin America¨- Marshall C. Eakin - This literally took me nearly two months to read.
¨The Monkey´s Paw¨- Robin Kirk
Still Have to Read
¨The End of Poverty¨- Jeffery Sachs - Sachs is villainized in ¨Gringo¨for his ideas for economic policy in South America so I´m curious to see who I agree with more, Boudin or Sachs.
¨Creating a World Without Poverty¨- Muhammad Yunus
¨Replicating Microfinance in the United States¨- Carr and Tong
¨Wild Swans¨- Jung Chang - I have owned this historical fiction book for nearly a year now. During that time it has been sitting on my nightstand (first in Chicago and now in Perú) and has contantly been bumped to the back on the ¨books to read¨line. I know it´s a classic but I just can´t seem to pick it up.
¨The Nasty Bits¨- Anthony Bourdain - This book is disappointingly more about the mysterious life of cooks and less about Anthony Bourdain´s travels but I definitely recommend it to anyone who has a dual interest in culinary and travel.
And to wrap up, I thought I´d show you a few more pictures of Huancayo graffiti, which is EVERYWHERE. While the majority of the graffiti is political (I´m constantly reading about Fujimori, current President García and even George Bush) I´ve decided to leave those pictures out and let you enjoy the more colorful works of art that can be found in my fine town.
Very typical. It reads, ¨Te Amo Carol. Eres el amor de mi vida.¨ [I love you Carol. You are the love of my life.] I think it might be mandatory to write the name of your love on a wall since at every turn you can find, ¨Te Amo _____¨
This wall is in the children´s playgound near my house and features words such as ¨Puto,¨ my favorate Spanish dirty word although this time it´s in the masculine form (even better!), and ¨Hip Hop.¨ You can pretty much go around Huancayo and play ¨Where´s Waldo¨ with the words ¨Hip Hop¨ because I promise you they´re incorporated into almost every graffiti design.
In white is a sheep (I think) with a halo (of course, why not) and below are the words ¨hip hop¨ and ¨rap.¨
I´m not exactly sure what this is but I love the colors blue and green. Notice the 3P written over the design? I have no clue what that means but it is everywhere.
I think I took this picture for the ¨SHSS¨ and squiddy spaceship looking thing at the bottom. Then later I saw the the angry man to the left and I have to say I enjoy him very much. Also note 3P is written by the spaceship squid.
More ¨3P¨ with the word ¨mixto¨ written next to it. The word ¨mixto¨ to me means the yummy chocolate and vanilla swirl soft serve ice cream you can buy on the streets. I´m not sure what it means here but believe me, if I were defacing property I would probably write about ice cream as well.
This piece of work is kinda awesome. I´m a big fan of the guy scratching. I also feel like this portion of the wall is kind of like the rosetta stone since it seems to be trying to decode what ¨3P¨ means.
Gotta love it when the artist incorporates english words like ¨forever¨ into their art.
Maybe a gang symbol? I have absolutely no clue but this can be found a lot of places... even on the side of my house. If anyone knows please fill me in.
I´d also like to believe that this is a gang symbol just because I don´t understand it and it turns up everywhere. I actually asked someone what this was. They said they weren´t sure. I presented my idea of it being a gang symbol and they agreed with me... but maybe just so that the crazy gringa would stop asking them questions.
I like this guy and his big white teeth... you really just don´t see enough teeth around here so I´m glad when someone draws them 1.) in full view and 2.) still fully entact in someone´s gums.
I think I took this picture for the various colors but it wasn´t until I got home and looked at my camera that I saw the guy painted in white and black to the right. I think his pants are riding a bit low and you can see his little bee-bun crack. Ah, it´s the surprises in life that make me happy...
... and the word ¨Borracha.¨ It means drunk and signifies, with it´s ¨a¨ ending, that it is referring to a woman. It is located between our front door and front gate. The first time I noticed it was the day after I went out with Faviola and her friends... hmmm, interesting. I swear I only had two drinks.... it´s definitely not worth calling me drunk over so I´m not sure what the deal is. Anyway, there´s a Borracha somewhere at Jirón Arequipa 1465 and I´m determined to find her.
This really is art. I love it... especially the little black bunny thing to the right. Anyway, the graffiti says, ¨Estamos en la Calle.¨ [We are in the Street.] What´s not to love about that!?! If I could, I would totally pick this up and take it home with me as a little souvenier. Do they sell smaller versions? Beautiful, beautiful Perú.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
THANK YOU!!!
SOUTH SIDE BABY!!! ...thank you Mom and Dad for sending the best hat in the world! I will wear it proudly.