Church-going China

OK, I am writing completely distracted because I have a little crowd of onlookers watching me type. So excuse any incoherence.

This morning I woke up and went to Catholic church with my host mom and little sister (well, she has 19 years). Two observations: 1) There was a doberman hanging out in church, lying around, walking back and forth, strolling in and out. Nobody shooed it away, even when it was blocking their way. Dogs in church. Ah, only in Perú. 2) There were no Bibles. I´m pretty sure everyone has a Bible at home, but it was neither provided by the Church nor did they bring it. I don´t know if this is normal in the States, but I´m pretty sure every single church I´ve ever been in has had Bibles behind the benches. I don´t know why this surprised me so much. Anyway, I think I am going to go to church every once in a while just because it´s a huge gathering of people and I want to be seen and meet the community however I can. I´m definitely going to Christmas service, which starts at midnight, by the way. And then they visit family, drink hot chocolate milk and eat ¨panetón,¨ which is this strange-tasting bread with dried fruit in it. However, I´m just praying they don´t try to convert me or baptize me or something. I kind of feel like a fraud in there, but it is interesting to witness. And I think I was only there for an hour.

Yesterday I was in the city of Piura shopping for more stuff for my room and debriefing the week with Prima and the environment volunteer near me who we will call ¨Cactus¨ because she is in the desert desert. Cactus said the following on the subject of regional accents, that I would like to share: ¨I feel like we were learning English from Australians and now we´re living in the Deep South.¨ hahaha. Actually, I would liken Limeña Spanish more to the Brits and Piuran Spanish to the Irish. Peruvians say that Piurans sing when they speak. It just struck me today that yes, they really do ¨sing¨ and it´s just like the Irish. Like the sailor on the Simpsons.

Culture Nudge: we were watching Woody Woodpecker today on TV. Dubbed in Spanish, of course. I told my host dad and 19-year old sister that I used to watch this when I was a kid. My host dad sort of defended adults watching cartoons. He said it´s for destressing. And that sick people should watch this because you feel more like a child. That´s a pretty medically philosophical view of cartoons, huh?

Speaking of host families, my host parents call me ¨China¨ (pronounced ¨CHEE-nah¨). I´m positive they know my real name but they still call me that. It´s pretty funny. So for example, 40 minutes after I´ve been lying in bed the other night, my host mom pops her head into my door-less room and shouts unabashedly, ¨China, here, you need a blanket!¨ And then she throws me a thin fleece blanket despite the 80 degrees in my room. On the other hand, my host sisters call me ¨Ca-roh-leen-eh¨ and I was thinking this was really cute and funny until the other day when I realized they were pronouncing Caroline in Spanish. So I guess I´m getting Caroline even in the other hemisphere.

I went on a two hour walk the other day. I started going down this road, wondering where it would take me. A girl holding her sweater over her head to protect her from the sun told me it was to a caserío, which is a rural population center. As far as I can tell, caseríos are impoverished areas where people work on farms and do other countryside-type economic activities. By living in a caserío, you can take advantage of the opportunities and advantages that come with living near a richer urban area, such as medical posts and customers. It took me about 40 minutes to reach this caserío, which is a part of my municipality. In the future, I might work with those people who stared at me in intimidating crowds. As I strolled peacefully along, I was passed by baffled farmers in donkey carts with corn husks in tow, and by the ubiquitous ¨mototaxis¨ which are motorcycles with a tricycle-like attachment where passengers sit. Besides great exercise, it was spiritually uplifting. I thought I was in a drab city. But the drab city part is a lot smaller than I thought and is surrounded by vast landscapes of farms and desert. Even though the living conditions are poor, my site is beautiful in its simplicity and proximity to nature. I even saw herons patiently waiting in the rice fields. I´m pretty content right now...