Never a dull moment

Third Sunday at church today, and believe it or not, I'm starting to understand things better. What is that you ask?

I was talking with my cousin Alice in China last night. She is learning some Chinese right now, but also knows Spanish as she was raised by a Spanish nanny.

Learning one language is one thing. Adding a third, it starts messing with your head. When I was in the MTC and started learning Hungarian, it was if the foreign language part of my brain turned on, and all these Spanish words flooded my head when I wanted to speak Hungarian. After awhile that died down. By the end of my mission when I was proficient in Hungarian, my Spanish had dwindled a little. It was bad enough to the point when I tried to speak Spanish at home this combo of Spanish and Hungarian mixture came out and no one understood me. Alice says she's having the same problem with Chinese.

I'm finding though with my brain, one language has to dominate the other, so Hungarian is learning it has to go on the back burner for right now. But there really is a point, as your switching one language to another, where you go through a process of regression. Last week I felt like I was getting dumber as I seem to struggle with Spanish and all these Hungarian words were flooding to my head. I think that point is passing now and Spanish is learning to take over.

Of course I've paid attention the past two Sundays I've gone, but the talks and the lessons still just seemed to be gibberish and garbled.

This Sunday I felt like I was understanding more of the lessons and talks. And then I got another surprise.

Six years ago in Indiana I met my dear friend Kristine Pratt. Despite the fact she only lived in there for four months, we have remained life long friends since. Back in May when I told Kristine I was moving to Lima, she said she knew some friends from her ward in Atlanta that were moving there also.

This Sunday a new couple appeared. I didn't know if they were American or not, but when the Sunday School teacher announced they had just moved here and were going to be here for several years, I figured they were foreigners. I sat in the back of the room during Sunday School and thought, "Why am I getting this nagging feeling...................." Sure enough, it was Kristine's friends from Atlanta.

Course when I introduced myself they were like, "Hey Kristine was telling us about you!"

Casey and Erin are here through the Embassy. Here's the interesting part. Erin doesn't speak a word of Spanish. Casey said he "tested out" which means he knows some. Casey wants to come to our branch because it would be an opportunity to learn Spanish. Erin was telling me as she left they still aren't sure if they are coming here or the English ward.

English Ward? There's an English Ward in Lima?

Now granted, I was kind of surprised to not hear of there being one considering how big Lima is. But only this week do I find out it exists and that's where people go who work for the embassy. One of the bishopric counselors was telling me about it later and he asked if I was interested. My answer was simple. No.

The branch meets in Las Molinas, where the Lima MTC is (yup, they have one here). It is a half hour drive, so you can imagine what it would be like to get there with public transportation. Versus my current ward building is 5 blocks, ten minute walk. Not to mention have members close by. Nah, I'll take a language barrier over convenience. Besides, what is the worse that can happen? I learn more Spanish?

From the brief moment I talked with Erin though it was pretty interesting. First, their house won't be ready for a month. So where are they staying? The Marriott. I was telling her I'd be happy to show her around the city a little, especially downtown Lima. Then she tells me they are not allowed to take public transportation because of the nature of her husband's job. What?

If there is one thing I learned from my mission that I keep reminding myself over and over again, you want to learn a language, you have to be out there with the people. I won't deny I wish I could have had a Dept of State job because they take care of everything. But people who work for the military and for embassies do not learn the language. It's almost more like you're a long term tourist.

How can you know how life is for people in a country if you're not out there living as they live, shopping where they shop, and traveling as they travel?

I look at where I'm at now. I know how to get a nursing license and have proceeded on working on that. I'm volunteering in a Peruvian hospital. I know how to get around the city. Who do I associate with day in and day out? Peruvians.

I'm not saying one way is better than the other. I guess it all depends on what you want. For me, coming to learn Spanish was the main goal, and so is working in a Peruvian hospital.

I won't accomplish that if I am stuck in an embassy.

First Day at Loayza

So on Monday when I met with "La Presidenta" of the volunteer association, she had talked about me possibly being with a volunteer in the Emergency Room, which I was looking forward to. I think, from what I gathered, she was not there that day, so I ended up helping with the snack cart.

If you're raising an eyebrow let me explain. The hospital is OLD! Unlike most American hospitals, it doesn't have a cafeteria. Remember when I was saying the street outside the hospital was crowded with food vendors? Gabi was telling me later it's because people come from so far to get healthcare there, they have nothing to eat. It's not just for patients, but also for doctors and nurses.

All the volunteers wear these white little dresses that look like nurses, but they're not. This snack cart they sell coffee, tea, hot chocolate, sandwiches, empanadas, and pieces of cake. One of the volunteers goes to a bakery and picks it all up and brings it.

First you need to know, all these volunteers are little old ladies EASILY over the age of 50, if not 60. The morning started with filling up thermos bottles with hot water and coffee, and loading up the cart downstairs. The volunteers, or Damas as they are called, were pleased to find out I understood Spanish. If only you could have heard them. About every 5 minutes, "Raquelita! Mas cucharitas! Raquelita! Mas agua caliente! Raquelita! Mas vasos!"

Of course all of the supplies were upstairs. I got my fair share of exercise that day as I lost count of how many times I ran upstairs to get more hot water, napkins, coffee, etc. They saw though that I caught on quickly and was willing to do what they said. As always, I explained to them why I wanted to be a volunteer.

About halfway through the morning, one of the volunteers looked at me and said, "Why are you hanging around the snack cart! You need to be in the hospital with the nurses learning the medical vocab." So she grabbed me and took me to the building next door to talk with a staff member. She went to this woman and said, "Who do I need to talk to about her working with the nurses?" The woman gave the name of someone who sounded like the head of nursing for the entire hospital.

So then this volunteer marches me down to that building and asks to speak to the head of nursing. She was busy, but her assistant was there. So they get into this conversation where she basically asks the woman why can't I work with the nurses? The woman thought I actually wanted to work and went off on what a responsibility it was, etc. And the volunteer said, "No, she doesn't want to do nursing work, she needs to be around the nurses and hear what they are saying."

Friends, this is when it comes to a point I say I don't understand the system, I just accept it as it is. This is what she said needed to happen. The president of the volunteer association would need to present to the head of nursing of me being able to be with the nurses.

So the volunteer marched me back to the volunteer building and spoke to "La Presidenta," Nelvita (the one who looks like mother Teresa). Nelvita smiled, said, "Sure" and put it on her to do list for next week. Even then, that doesn't guarantee it will happen.

After all the goodies on the snack cart were gone and we were closing up shop (about 1 pm) one of the volunteers pulled me upstairs. I needed to fill out a volunteer application. Theses ladies basically sat me down and told me what to write. It was stuff like, "Why do you want to be a volunteer," "What qualities do you have to offer?" and at the end it asked, "Who referred you." At that point the ladies were a little concerned about trying to come up with who referred me. They needed SOMEONE to say they had vouched for my character. I was confused at this point and the ladies explained something to me.

See here is why volunteering is so complicated in Peru. First off, say you had some medications you ended up not using. You can donate them to the hospital and give them to people that don't have money. Who runs this quasi pharmacy? The volunteers. Yup. My mother was floored when she found that out. These people are not nurses, pharmacy, techs, nothing.

And it's true. All three Peruvian hospitals I've visited (not private clinics which are like American hospitals) there was a ton of drugs in the volunteer department.

So you can't just have anybody be a volunteer. When I asked one of the damas why I needed a referral she said there have been volunteers that want to do bad things. I can see why now. Who knows the street value you could get off of some of those drugs. I wanted to ask if they dealt with narcotics, but my language skills weren't up to par for that. I can see now Nelvita was taking a risk on me.

I was telling Gabi about it later and she said it's true. Her mom was a volunteer once and I guess the organization was having a fundraiser. Another volunteer took 10 raffle tickets for herself and claimed she had "lost" them. So sad. Goes with what I'm learning here. Peruvians will trust a foreigner more than another Peruvian.

Oh well. Inside or outside the hospital I enjoyed myself and will be back next week. On my way out as I left one of the guards at the gate saw me and said, "You're one of the volunteers aren't you?" This is at a gate where hundreds and hundreds of people come in and out all day.

Guess I keep forgetting I'm a foreigner. That, or just a memorable person.

Job searching and learning

So here is the latest. I have heard back from several places. Unfortunately I have to go the road of the "black market" so to say.

Here is how it works here in Lima. A lot of people from big impressive companies want to learn english, but they want to learn it from native speakers. However the Peruvian government makes it difficult to hire foreigners. So there is this black market out there for native english speakers who teach lessons and get paid under the table.

Technically this is illegal. But then the question comes, does anybody do anything about it? Not really. It's kind of like does anyone question the farmer in Fresno California about the legal status of the men who pick the fruits on his farm?

The only risks you have going this route is aligning with a company that doesn't pay you. If that's the case, your short several weeks of salary till you realized you need to move on. But really a majority of companies here don't treat their employees that way because they want to make a living also.

I have to admit, it worried me a little bit until my roommate Gabi told me not to worry about it. She said all the Peruvians know this is how it is. There is one company down the street that has a huge office building and I'm sure alot of the teachers don't have work permits, yet I haven't noticed the migration police raiding them recently.

And technically I'm not completely illegal in the country. Peru does let you stay in the country for six months as a tourist and then people do the boarder hopping where they leave and come back for another six months. As I said in an earlier post, my roommate Mari said it's bad enough some companies would rather pay your travel fees for you to border hop than to pay extra taxes.

So for now I am in the country legally and I did find out as time goes on I can apply for a student visa, which would allow me to stay in the country for at least a year. If, after all that, I haven't landed a contract somewhere, I will take it as a sign to go home.

One company I had read good things about called me back. The owner himself is British. He basically sets it up where you go to the companies the customers are at and just practice English with them. He says he has all sorts of people help him out. People who are here for a year or two as volunteers, studying, etc. He sounded really nice and considerate.

Most English classes are taught in the morning, afternoon (while Peruvians take a long lunch) and evening, after work. The afternoon and evening classes sound fine with me while I go to school myself.

Yup, I'm a student myself. There's a place around the corner I had heard a lot about called InterCultural Peruano National Academia. It's one of the biggest institutes in the country for English Language learning and it has several branches in other cities.

They also have a program called "Clase de Espanol por los Extranjeros" (Spanish for foreigners). It works like this. There are three levels, Basic, Intermediate, and Advanced. Each level has six classes and each class lasts for a month. I went there the other day to register and asked the teacher why. The teacher said foreigners sometimes come for a month here or there and it just worked out better to have them in month long increments. They are an hour and a half, every day for four weeks.

I went to go get tested for what level I was in. The written part I did very well initially. Much to the point the teacher had me test at a higher level. But then another teacher came in and did an oral test. That proved to be different. She recommended I start at the intermediate level, which is what I always considered myself to be at.

Funny part is when I looked at the schedule they have classes going all day long. Like 7 am to 10 pm. So here I thought, "Great! I can pick and choose when I want to come." No such luck. The director of the Spanish program said the intermediate class meets only in the morning, because there is only ONE class. All those other classes I saw scheduled are basic level.

So, next Tuesday at 8:45 am, it all begins.

First Step

I just have a funny feeling it's going to take longer than intended to get me a nursing license. From what I've heard from Peruvians of how the government works around here, I'd better find something to keep myself occupied in the mean time. 

I thought it would be good to do some volunteering and brush up on my Spanish. There's two levels of healthcare here in Peru, Public and Private. You will receive good care at both places. It's just the private is more efficient. Like you'll get an appt within a week or two instead of a couple of months. There are two of these private clinics close to where I live, so I stopped by to ask if they accepted volunteers. They don't. Private hospitals here are a little snobbish. 

So the only other option I had was to check out the public hospitals. One I read about quite a bit on the internet seemed promising. It's called Arzobispo Loayza. It is the largest hospital in the entire country and it's connected with a university. I decided today to finally make the effort to go down and check it out. 

This hospital was started several hundred years ago when the Spanish came to town and took all the good healthcare for themselves. There was nothing left for the native inhabitants of Peru, and so this hospital was started a Catholic Priest. It's for the "pobres." 

I had heard it was pretty modern and up to date, but who knew what to expect on Peruvian terms.  

I headed down on their metro bus station this morning and wondered what awaited ahead. 

The hospital is right next to the metro stop. I get off and the sidewalks are packed. I slowly wend my way through the crowd where there's a lot of vendors and people yelling out goods they were selling (a woman was selling hard boiled quail eggs. They're a big item around here.)

I walk in through the gate to the hospital, and when I get through, there's not a building, but an entire city behind this wall. I don't know if the place was more crowded than usual (it looked like they were hosting a health fair of some sort), but there were streets and a courtyard and signs saying "Department of Gastrologia" and so forth. 

I have to tell you while this is all going on, I am the only white person present in about a crowd of easily 200-300 people and it is blatantly obvious I am a foreigner. I will admit, I had moments I wanted to turn around and head back home. The only thing that kept me going and stopped me from freaking out is I had to keep reminding myself Peruvians love foreigners (they really do) and 99.5% of them have been nothing but kind towards me. So I shouldered up and headed on. 

I briefly asked a few people if there was a volunteer office and they pointed me in the right direction. Once I got to the gate downstairs there was a young woman there (a volunteer I found out later) who was taking money and writing out tickets for people buying hot chocolate, coffee, and other snacks from people. I approached the gate and told her what I was inquiring about. She was very nice and I said to her apparently the private clinics don't accept volunteers. She said I was right, they don't. They're a little stuck up in her opinion. So she went ahead and contacted someone upstairs and told me to head on up. 

I went upstairs and sat in this old office with a woman who I think is the volunteer coordinator. I kid you not, this woman looked just like Mother Teresa, but with glasses. Very old and wrinkled. She spoke with me for a little bit and asked what I was interested in. I explained to here how my main motivation was to learn Spanish better for the patients I would take care of in the United States. I told her further how I realized I reached a point the best way to learn was to come to a Spanish Speaking country. She seemed to understand and in a way admired my motivation. She asked where I was interested in and I told her I would really like to be in the Emergency Room. She took down my contact information, then told me she was going to put me with a nurse who I guess is a volunteer in the ER, and told me to come back Friday morning at 8 am. 

So, I wait for Friday to come. I walked out of there excited but at the same time wondering what I had just done. I asked her if they ever saw any foreigners as patients at the hospital. She said, "Practically never."

So there we go. I just signed up to see Lima's poorest of poor and am wondering why I am so happy about this?  I mean, I'm not even getting paid. Yet in some ways I'm more excited about it than if a job offer had occurred. There's no foreign doctors there. Nobody comes from abroad to study. That's it. No gringo's, nothing. Only me. 

The reality is, foreign nurses want to come to the US because they can make so much money. You rarely have vice versa where nurses from the US want to go somewhere else and people don't want to work in the lower conditions that hospitals from their own country. I personally don't care. As long as I'm learning the language, that can be done no matter what sort of technology the country has. I can't fix a different countries healthcare system, so I'm going to soak up all the language I can. 

I feel in a way I should start writing a book (the next "Call the Midwife" series). I asked the coordinator if there were ever any foreigners that come to volunteer and she said once a year for two weeks. Okay. Well. Let the stories begin. 

So that is all I have to share for now. By the way, the little old ladies at church discovered this past Sunday I actually do know some Spanish, so they've been talking to me a bit more now. I was telling mom I found a great way to have them speak Spanish. When they speak English, which is usually not that great, I just tell them I don't understand. Then they revert to Spanish and I tell them I understand them much better (which usually I do). In someways I think I'm getting more out of church now than before because I have to concentrate on what they are saying. With that comes the fact when I came home that day my head hurt and it later turned into a headache. Sigh. Feel all those neural pathways being built. 

Pounding the Pavement

It will be a miracle if I can get through a year in this place without getting run over by a car. Carlos had told me way back in Indy that I should think of it like going to New York City. Man, he was not joking. There are cars everywhere and the drivers are crazy. I can see why now most people I knew from Lima told me to never plan on driving.

Friday will make it a week. And already there is oh so much to tell. I can tell you right now about the many adventures I'm going to write, I would not have gotten as far as I have if not for the fact that Peruvians absolutely LOVE foreigners. I don't know if it's the fact I'm trying to learn Spanish and they are so pleased about that, or they just like different people. Anytime I have been in a bind, I simply pull the clueless american story and they are so happy and willing to help.

Let's start out with Monday. Let's see, tried to go to the US embassy and it turns out they let NOBODY in. Even other Americans. Jerks! It took me awhile to get there. On my way home I stopped by one of the major English Language Institutes that's right around the corner, ICPNA. They offer a Spanish course for foreigners that I hope to take in October. They would have hired me on the spot if I had expressed interest in working there, but I told them I wasn't sure yet.

See a problem they have here in Peru is they put a cap on how many foreigners you can hire. It can only be 20% of your workforce. Even once you've paid for the foreign employee to have a work permit, apparently the company still has to pay more in Taxes (I know this all from Mari). Technically in Peru you are allowed to stay up to six months on a tourist visa. What a lot of language institutes do, even though it is illegal, is hire native English speakers on a tourist visa and then pay them cash. It's bad enough to the point that Mari says some companies will pay your traveling costs to leave the country every six months so they won't have to have you as a valid employee.

Ideally I would prefer not to do that, but it might be the best route to go if it would buy me some time.

Tuesday I went to inquire at a clinic (basically a hospital) up the street. I told the receptionist I was interested in a position there. She walked me over to the Human Resources office and spoke with a gentleman at the gate and told me to come back that afternoon at 3 pm. Apparently they have open interviews then.

So I went back totally not expecting a job position to be offered. The woman asked if I had my documents. I said I had them from the United States. I showed her the copies of my diploma I brought. She then sat down and basically told me I needed a Peruvian nursing license before I could apply for any nursing position in Peru. I asked her how to do that and she said I needed to go to "El Colegio de Los Enfermeros del Peru." I have no idea what the equivalent of that would be in the United States.

I stopped by that office today and from what the woman said it sounds like the process would be simple. She said that all I would need to do is take a copy of my transcript to another government building and they would verify if I had received adequate education to be a nurse, and if so they would recommend to the Colegio, and that's it. I looked at her and was like, "I don't have to take a test?" In the United States you have to take an English Proficiency Test and the NCLEX, the National Nursing Board Exam if you want to work as a Foreign Nurse. It sounds simple, but I doubt it will be.

Course as I'm talking to this woman she said, "Why don't you just get the hospital to sponsor you and you can have a temporary license?" To which I looked at her and said, "Isn't it more expensive for hospitals to hire a foreign nurse?" To which she gave me a look of understanding and didn't ask any further questions.

See, the area where I live, Miraflores, is one of the wealthiest regions in Lima. Hence there's a lot of what is called "Private" hospitals where a lot of foreigners go to get healthcare. It's more efficient and supposedly better care. I figure the one thing I could offer in these type of settings is the fact I speak English. Not sure if I'm on the right tract in thinking this, but it's worth a shot.

Still, I'll admit, I have in some ways even surprised myself this week. I finally got a cell phone. I actually bought one on Monday only to find out I get absolutely no reception in my apartment. So I took it to another phone company today and got it switched over to the other.

I then figured out the bus system to go to the Colegio de Los Enfermeros. Granted a lot of this was done by simply asking the bus assistants who stand at the bus stops which one I should take (like I say, Peruvians are super helpful).

All these conversations with HR, El Colegio, etc, have all been in Spanish. I'm even surprising myself as far as how much I'm able to communicate.

That doesn't mean though I hit a bit of a wall these past two days. Pounding the pavement is not fun and in some ways I'm asking already why I did this to myself. Why am I not at home in the United States where I know I speak the language and probably could have easily have gotten a job? A job that pays well for that matter? Why am I not home in a comfortable set up knowing what my day to day life would be like?

Mom asked me that to and there is one answer I know for sure. If I had not come, I never would have forgiven myself. I would have spent days wallowing in the world of "What if......."

One of my instructors from my language training course said once don't really determine whether or not you like a place till you have been there for 3-4 months. He's right. I mean, I think one reason I'm not as down as I could be is I have had to adjust to places before (like Indiana) and it took some time. I think back to my time in Hungary and the many language frustrations I had there. (And believe me, if I can learn Hungarian I can definitely learn Spanish.)

Carly and I were talking just this past night though that sometimes when people travel places they paint it as a rosy picture. It's not. Adjusting to life in a new country takes ALOT of work. Along with that you need tolerance and flexibility.

I wish sometimes I had come through a program with the Dept of State. Like working for an embassy or something like that. Then I realize if I did that, I probably wouldn't learn as much Spanish. I want to be out with the people living as they live and seeing what they see.

The other thing I tell myself also is give it time. I've only been to church for one Sunday, so there hasn't been too much of an opportunity to make friends with others. Besides, they all think I don't know any Spanish.

Well there is one thing for sure. I'm learning more Spanish everyday whether I want to or not.

First Sunday in Lima

Nothing super special today other than I went to church this morning. The meeting house is only 5 blocks away, about a 15 minute walk.

I'll admit, I wasn't sure what to expect. I had gotten so used to church outside the United States being in Hungary, I didn't know what other picture to think of. There were about 70 people in Sacrament meeting. The room was very narrow and long. Like, a row has about 7-8 chairs in it. You think no one is there, but then you turn around and all the way to the back there's people sitting.

There were not that many kids or youth. At least it seemed to me. Majority were adults. There were several fair skinned people, but you could still tell they were Peruvian. Beyond myself I think there was only one other caucasian. A gentleman who I did not have a chance to meet. He was offering candy to others and from the brief moment I heard him speak he sounded British, but I wasn't sure.

Bishop Valdivia had e-mailed me on Friday to see if I needed anything. I told him I was good and going to a food festival with Carly. He was conducting Sacrament meeting that day.

You could say I was the spectacle of the week. All these people had to come up and meet me and talk to me.

My biggest irritant the entire morning was the same thing I ran into in Costa Rica. People saw my white skin and automatically assumed I didn't know any Spanish. Bishop Valdivia tried to pair me up with members who spoke english. I was trying to be patient and nice, but part of me wanted to say, "Really, I'm fine." Everyone wanted to speak English with me and I just thought, "People! I'm here to learn your language. I already know my own!"

Course I could understand the theme of the Sacrament talks, what the Sunday School lesson was on, and what lesson we were learning in Relief Society (which I haven't been to for a couple of years now thanks to primary).

At one point in Relief Society the woman teaching the lesson asked me if I wanted to contribute anything. I was so taken by surprise she asked me I didn't understand what she said. A nearby sister translated and then another woman said LOUDLY "She doesn't speak Spanish." So there we go. People in the ward don't think I understand what they're saying. Oh well. I guess I should enjoy the low expectations while they are there.

People we're really nice and offered what help I needed, but right now I didn't need anything. Oh well, more to talk about next week.

First Saturday in Lima

Carly and I met in the center of the city on Saturday for a "free" walking tour of the city. It started with us meeting at a park with a group of other tourists and were shown to a bar where we could get a free sample of beer. While there we met a girl from Austria named Anna who was traveling in South America for two months. She tagged along with us the rest of the day.

The guides showed us how to take the bus to downtown Lima where we saw the central square. As you can see from the pictures, it is quite impressive.

This is one of those tourist type churches where you can walk by and go inside. Well, there just happened to be a wedding going on that day. Must be interesting to know your wedding will be part of a tourist attraction. 

Didn't have a chance to go inside of there, but our guide said it's got catacombs. You can't see it very well, but there's a ton of pigeons around. 

The walking tour ended with a wine tasting of a Peruvian drink called "Pisco." They are very proud of it. Supposedly it's made from grapes, yet it's not considered wine. And it's supposed to be very, VERY concentrated. Sounds like the equivalent of Everclear. 

They tried first pure Pisco, then Pisco Sour which has lime juice, sugar, pisco, and something else. If you buy it at a bar they put in egg whites to make it foamy, but they don't in the bottled kind. Then there's another drink made with passion fruit and pisco that I keep forgetting the name. Finally it ended with a drink that's a combination of Pisco and coffee. 

Of course I didn't try any of it, but from the look on Carly's face, the first shot of just Pisco was really potent. I guess she brought a bottle back for her dad when she was last in Peru, three years ago, and he said it was like drinking gasoline. 

After a four hour walking tour downtown Carly wanted to head to a food festival Gabi had told her about. It's a huge festival that happens every year right on the beach. Like, you can ask any public transportation employee that's manning the gate and they will automatically tell you how to get there. 

Well, it was quite an adventure to get there, but we eventually did. I'm having a lot of flashbacks to my time in Costa Rica. Carly doesn't speak Spanish that well, so Anna and her were happy to have me along to translate. 

Carly and mines goal was to try some Ceviche, a notable Peruvian food. Our walking tour guide Arturo said that every one says Ceviche is just raw fish. Apparently it's not. It's cooked by the acid in the lime juice it's put in. Arturo says the limes in Lima have a higher acidity level compared to other places and that we don't need to worry about the food being bad. 

I went for just plain fish ceviche. I translated for Carly and told her there was another type that had octopus and snails in it. She went for that (brave woman!). 

Authentic Peruvian Ceviche. It also has onions and a potato with it. 

Carly proudly showing off her dish. She got it with Octopus and snails

Us waiting in line at the festival

It was fun, but it was a very crowded festival. The Ceviche tasted fine. It's just one of those dishes where I take 4-6 bites and then I was done. There was a small part of a pepper in my dish that was red. Course I'm thinking of the sweet bell peppers that I usually eat at home. Totally clueless, I pop this thing into my mouth. 

Fire. Totally on Fire. Oh my goodness, did that pepper burn. Later as I was telling Mari about it she said they are very spicy. And to make matters worse, I don't like spicy food to begin with. 

 When we got home, we were ready for a good nights sleep. But Carly proved to be a great travel buddy. 

Finally here!

Yeaaaaaaaaah! Made it!

I left last Thursday. Took a small puddle jumper from San Diego to LAX and then a direct flight to Lima. It was 8 hours. Thank goodness there's only a two hour time difference between San Diego and Lima (good old longitude).

I found my roommate Mari on a website for foreigners and I honestly could not have asked for a better person. She is a lawyer that works for a non-governmental organization that is trying to bring attention to poverty up in the Andes. She works with a lot of universities and graduate students. She has been SOOOO sweet. She lives in Miraflores with her sister Gabi.

She arranged a taxi for me right as I got off the plane. I walked out of customs and there was no one there. I decided to wait a few minutes and then he arrived.

It was about a half hour ride home and I spoke with Segundo, the cab driver. Segundo was pleased to find out I spoke Spanish. I asked him how Peruvians were to foreigners and he said, "To you, they'll be nice. To other Peruvians, that's a different story."

I asked Segundo if he was "el segundo" in his family. No, apparently he is the fourth child. Something about they let his Grandpa name him and that's what he came up with.

Mari was waiting for me as I got there (we're talking like 1 am in the morning). She quickly showed me my room and I was able to go to sleep.

Right now we've got Mari, her sister Gabi, and an intern that's working with Mari's organization named Carly, who is from Canada.

The place has been a revolving door. Carly arrived on Tuesday and she's staying in Mari's room right now while Mari is staying in Gabis room with her sister. It's kind of like one big slumber party. Carly got here Tuesday, I got here Thurday, Gaby left Saturday to go to Piura where her family is from because her dad is having surgery. Carly and Mari leave Wednesday for Cusco and Gabi is supposed to come back a few days after that.

Friday Gabi showed me around the city a little bit and then we went to a restaurant for lunch where Mari and Carly we're doing some business chit chat. Later that night Mari had a doctor's appointment. Can you believe this? It was at 7:20 on a Friday night. There is NO WAY that would ever happen in the United States.

Carly told me in general Peruvians tend to not eat dinner. We were starving, so Carly showed me where one of the closest grocery stores was and I was able to get a few items. She said she was participating in a free walking tour on Saturday and invited me to come along. Why not? Tally-ho!

Cousin Kevin's Wedding

Cousin Kevin got married this Labor Day weekend. I stuck around for it. The nice part was it was local. I'm so used to traveling for these things. It was kind of weird, like, "What? You mean I hop in the car and 20 minutes later I'm there?"

Kevin's family and mine both live in California. As a result, growing up our families would see more of each other than the other cousins. So whenever we got together, off Kevin and I went to play. We are only 5 months apart, so we went through high school and college together. He is a great playmate and to this day, still a very sweet guy.

And the girl he married, we all love her. He made a good match.

Kevin is the youngest of Uncle Bubba's family. This is my dad's brother who we all refer to as the "wine worshippers." I always used to tell people if there was a religion to worship wine they would join in a heartbeat. This wedding proved me right.

All three of Uncle Bubba's boys got married at winery's. At any event they host there has to be TONS of alcohol. (You can imagine how well this aligns with us dry Mormons) They aren't really religious. Oh sure, their parents raised them Lutheran (it allows drinking), but once the boys moved out of the house they stopped going to church.

During the ceremony, the guy officiating it included in there that (and I am not joking on this), wine was like marriage. It involves a transformation, progression. It was a finer thing that took work to create.

Just when I thought I had heard it all.

I have to admit though, it was a very well coordinated wedding and the food was good. Kevin's bride put together activities for the kids and they even gave a special presentation to my niece who was turning 5 that day.

I knew I'd get in trouble if I didn't put any pictures up. I was able to steal a quick moment to get a picture with the bride and groom.

Adrienne made a very pretty bride. I don't know why I twisted my torso and hips as I did because I LOOK SO FAT! Oh well, blame the skirt.

Good Job on the wedding Kevin! It was worth putting up with Mom and Dad for a week to attend it.

Chilling and Preparing

As I think I've said before, I'm sticking around this week because Cousin Kevin is getting married this weekend. It has been nice to have some time to relax and prepare. Don't get me wrong, time has flown. It's just a little weird not to have a routine schedule. I've mostly been doing some packing, cleaning, and A LOT of legal work. I'm making it so that my brother is Power of Attorney over all my affairs in case I need him to do anything. I can't believe what a hassle it's been. Lawyers are not cheap. I can see why divorce is so devastating. All the work I've had to do to put him on it, to have to take him off, what a pain!

I know since I've been out here I've talked of driving cross country, meeting new people, putting up with a starry eyed, twitterpated engaged sister. Sure I talk of post training parties, teachers, classmates, etc. But there is one thing I have failed to mention this entire time.

I MISS YOU ALL!

Yes, I hit a wall. I know home can be tough at times, but usually I'm only here for a maximum of a week. Now it's been a month and I've had the distraction of my language training class. But now that it's over I realized I miss my friends, and I'm feeling the lack of it. I miss being around people who know who I am. Who I can have deep spiritual conversations with.

I miss the Monsons with all their kids running around. I ache for the Priddis's and how I could just walk on over to their house. I miss Ben & Laura, Dean & Taralee. I miss Bev, my Indiana Mom who made me feel so much better when I talked to her on Saturday. I yearn to see Karen in the hallway and at the temple. I miss Kim Jenkins, my good friend. I miss being in primary and seeing Emily Switzer and Karma.

I know I can have good friends again once I get settled somewhere again. But until then, an entire month of not having everyone around has dragged me down a little. So while many adventures await, friends in Indiana, you are not forgotten.