I have now been in site for a little more
than a month. Life here certainly can be different than that of The States, and
even Lima for that matter. It’s an amazing opportunity to be able to engage in
a new culture which challenges what you thought you knew about life, about the
world. There is such room for growth in these new experiences and in reflecting
upon them. Peru is a beautiful country filled with a diverse terrain and people
to match. I look out my window to see the peak of the Andes Mountains and
reflect on how fortunate I am to be here. I am eager to visit la selva (the
jungle), to view the grand Amazon River, to hike the infamous archaeological
phenomenon that is Machu Picchu, and to call this place home for the next two
years.
This past week was rather large for my
community. We celebrated the community’s Patron Saint with a grand fiesta that
brought in droves of people from near and far. Many return to their hometown
for these events. For this, we had a slew of people travel in from all over the
country. The streets were filled with impromptu tiendas who sold everything
from baked goods and homemade snacks to shoes and jeans, underwear and
outerwear, and handmade purses. All could be found walking down the once vacant
street toward our town plaza. The small spaces between makeshift and actual
tiendas were packed, bustling with people who moved purposely from one seller
to another. The town felt alive, ecstatic. The feria, town festival, with its
Peruvian carnival games and a rickety Ferris Wheel had been growing dormant for
about a week. Then the weekend hit and everything came alive.
Alongside my sitemate, Brooklynn, I
attended the fiesta’s parade where different groups put on humorous skits to
win a prize of S/. 800. We were given seats of honor in front of the
municipality. Brooklynn was even brought out to dance with one group, which we
obviously took video and pictures of. There were contests, mostly pageants, of
all sorts on the fair grounds. A teenage girl was given a crown and sash.
Guinea pigs donned outfits a Mr. Cuy was selected. Cows were voted on for their
appearance and production abilities. Students from our colegios (schools)
dressed in traditional wear and performed dances. It was absolutely vibrant.
It all become far more electric after
sundown. People stood in the streets of the town plaza, drinking and dancing as
two large bands took turns playing the gambit of genres native to Peru (cumbia,
wino, etc.). It all lead up to these grand structures that stand an easy four
stories tall called castillos. The
whole thing is the stuff of a pyromaniac’s fantasy. The bottom part is ignited
and the fire makes its way upward setting off twirling fire-light contraptions
and fireworks. Then there is a hesitation between the parts of the structure
which have been placed one on top of the other. All stand around watching in
anticipation as the next piece is sparked to life. The grand finale, which all
have eagerly awaited, is a set of fuegos artificiales (fireworks) that have
been donated by a family from the community. They are taken in with wide eyes
and inebriated smiles. With three of these structures to behold, the night is
filled with fire, smoke, and life.
Castillo being built.
Photo courtesy of Brooklynn A.
Castillo's lit up at night.
Photo courtesy of Brooklynn A.
Personally, that weekend was that much more
important to my family. My lovely friend, Megan, came in from hear nearby town
to help us celebrate the baptisms of both of my siblings and the marriage of my
host parents. Un largo dia, no doubt about it. I attended both baptisms in the
iglesia, taking photos at the earnest request of my host mom. She asked me at
least two or three times a day for the days leading up to the ceremonies if my
professional camera, as it is so called here, was charged and if I would bring
it. I came prepared. It began with my sister, Eli’s baptism. Then we returned
to the house for a ricisimo (delicious) lunch where I enjoyed camote for the
first time in site. Oh how I’d missed my sweet potato. Lunch was followed by
the wedding of my host parents who have been together now for eighteen years,
but were yet to be married. I am grateful beyond words to have been witness to
such a loving, major event for two such wonderful people. Filled with a list of
ways the marriage could potentially end in divorce, the ceremony was rather an
interesting experience. Some might even say cringe-worthy at times. Brooklynn,
Megan, and I looked at each other from different parts in the standing ovation
room to make faces about what the speaker spoke. “You should not look at each
other’s cell phones. There must be trust,” was a quick quip. My host parents
stood in front of this man with their eyes looking down, hand-in-hand. They
smiled and laughed occasionally along with those in the room. It was all sealed
with a kiss. And lots of dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. Then we were off to
the next baptism with my four year-old host brother in his all-white suit in
rain so hard you felt you were being pelted. But we went and I took pictures,
and pictures, and more pictures. My host family is hilarious and considerate.
They have welcome me into this family openly from the first moment. Though we
have many instances where the language barrier can frustrate one or the other
of us, they work with me. I feel incredibly fortunate to have experienced such
a meaningfully eventful day with them.
More to come shortly. Keep posted to hear
about entertaining language miscommunications and bull fights!


























