unexpected little acts of friendship

Today was such a sweet, simple day. After spending all day locked in my room poring through a really helpful tech manual on developing environmental ed curriculums, I decided to go on a little jog/walk through the farms again today. On the way, I passed the hostel where my PCV friends stayed during the Mangrove Festival. Three girls who were about 12 years old asked where I was going and if they could join me. Of course I said yes. After getting permission from their mom, they came with me. First, we stopped by the canal so one of the girls could clean a gash on her knee that was dripping with blood. I´m not really sure how clean that water is, but it´s better than not cleaning it, I guess. As we chatted and strolled down the farmland-lined path, newly green thanks to a new planting season and recent rains, I learned that they´re not from this town. They learned how to say 20 Peruvian names in English. Then we ran for all of 30 seconds. They were wearing flimsy flip-flops (and out of shape). Oh well, making new friends is much more important than a healthy heart. When we stopped, they pointed to a beautiful tamarind tree, which I didn´t recognize. Tamarind trees are taller than most trees growing around here. They have many small bright green leaves, which turn brighter with the 6PM summer sun descending behind. Then we stopped and threw rocks at the tamarinds, hoping they would fall. Since I´m a lot taller than they are, they kept on asking me to shake various branches. We did this for about 10 minutes. My aim isn´t all that good. I learned that tamarinds actually look like brown peas! Inside the "pea pod" the fruit looks just like a dried peach -- and tastes like it, too! Yum.

As we headed back since it was growing dark, a mototaxi sped by with two of my friends from the Municipality in it. They waved furiously at me and stopped the mototaxi. "Come with us to Bernal!" So I hopped in, we dropped off my little friends at the entrance of the farmland, and I went to Bernal for the first time. Bernal was about a 15 minute mototaxi ride from where I got picked up. We arranged to get a band for the Mayor´s birthday party in May. I sat in a house that I thought looked really beautiful. There were plastic flowers and elephant statues and a tree that reminded me of Autumn in Michigan or New Jersey and kitchy stuff everywhere. And then I wondered whether my taste in interior decoration is turning really tacky after just 6 months in Perú. After our business was done there, we took the long route home to stop by a big town to eat cake. I wished that my counterpart had arranged my homestay to be with one of these two women instead of the family I have. I like my family and think that they´re good people. However, they would never randomly bring me on a little trip like that and then buy me cake. That´s partly why I´m in my room way too often.

Onto a different subject, I had a cultural identity crisis today. I read an insert in Newsweek written by an "Indian-American" author who won a Pulitzer Prize or something. She was writing about being Indian-American and growing up being loyal to the old identity but hoping to fit into the new one. At first, I read and thought it was kind of interesting. I could identify. But it´s all the same old first generation experience stuff I´ve read before. Then she ended with something that made me gasp aloud. She talked about how the Indian part of her is critically linked to the presence of her parents in her life. And how when they pass away, she will become more American than Indian. And I realized that it is the same for me. I had a small panic attack. I really wanted to call my sister and talk to her about this revelation, that I really had realized my whole life, but never thought about so bluntly. I mean, I always wondered how I´d manage to have my kids grow up speaking and listening to Mandarin. I solved that problem when I decided not to ever have kids. Now I´m thinking more about how my IDENTITY will be really different when I´m old. I will be more American than Chinese. That´s the reality. I´ve never really cared about aging as much as I do now.