A walk in the neighborhood

Despite a slow start...


...Porter and I went out walking this afternoon around the neighborhood. We took pictures, enjoyed the sun, and walked along the bike path.
Decorative kales
The urban jungle
my magical windchimes that lift my spirits whenever I listen to the wind playing them
the tour guide takes a sit-down break
okay, and another break...
fall foliage in Cheyenne
more colors flying!
Pretty!

Oh my gosh! The sun is SOOO bright!
The cookie jar
The homestead

Heading Up North!

Today is our last full day in Lima. Tomorrow evening, we take flight out of Lima, heading for Denver by way of Miami and Chicago. I'm hoping for coolish weather in Miami, so Celeste can travel with us. That's why we're heading to Chicago - it's an earlier flight than the direct flight to Denver, and I know that if it's too hot or too cold at any point along the way, dogs can't travel.

Celeste is confused and worried. Her whole world was dismantled throughout the week and sent away to the house in Trujillo this morning. The only familiar thing left in the apartment is her own crate, and even that is probably too new for her to like just yet. Her old one was dismantled and sent to the trash, since it was made of wood and not up to airline standards. When the guys came this morning to pick up the furniture, she stood watching and following them around as the took things out and put them in a truck, checking with me once in a while to make sure it was okay for all this to happen.

I finally found a veteriarian who didn't try to swindle me, and Celeste now has all her paperwork, certified healthy and fit for travel and entry into the US. I know it will be a tough trip for her, having to be alone in the cargo hold through the entire journey. I looked for a dog toy for her that might make her feel a little better, but couldn't find a single squeaky toy anywhere. Maybe tomorrow I can find something fuzzy and soft in a pet shop in San Miguel.

I stopped working a week ago and my entire attitude has changed! Not that I hated my work - on the contrary, I enjoyed the work. But not having to pass through downtown every morning to see the drunks sleeping it off and the homeless begging for anything has made a huge difference for me. (A nice little severance package helped my attitude a bit, too!) I know I'm not cut out to live in a big city like Lima. So it's back to Cheyenne for me; O will be coming this time, but only for a month. Then he has to return till December, when his military commitment is up. He's got some options to consider and some things to compete, so he'll have about 6 months to get that stuff done.

So, the next time I update here will probably be from my sister's house in Colorado, where we'll be staying for a little bit, till I get the furniture put back in my house in Cheyenne.

Hasta la vista!

Total Fun

Well, things are progressing toward moving back to the States. Slowly, but all things happen in their own time here in Peru.

I took Celeste to the vet to see what was required for her to get a health certificate. Oh. My. God. At first, the vet said it would cost about $150 for everything. Then things changed. The well-cared for, healthy dog that he saw just a few months ago suddenly was down on her weight and needed the most expensive dog food on the market to get her weight up, which he just happens to sell. And she suddenly has fungus all over her body - that's why her hair is falling out; nothing to do with the fact that she's shedding in her regular shedding schedule (twice a year, in spring and fall), and I must buy these expensive anti-fungal treatments, which hejust happens to sell, of course. Oh, and what about a crate? If I don't have one, he'll be glad to order one for me, at a cost of $400, plus $50 for the mandatory "disinfection of crate" cerificate. Holy Crap. I watched his eyes light up as he punched in numbers on his calculator. If I take all his advice, we'll be approaching $1000 dollars to take Celeste to the US. I think this is a scam. So....

I said okay to the fungus treatment. Maybe I don't know everything there is to know about Peruvian dog fungus. But I draw the line at $400 dog crates and dog food made of gold. If the crate is actually that expensive, I'll give my money to someone else and not give the vet the satisfaction of getting my entire paycheck. We're going to visit the airport this weekend to see about that mandatory crate disinfection certificate that the vet is planning to charge me for. All the airline wants is a health certificate and proof of rabies vaccine. That's all the US customs wants. That's all the State of Wyoming wants.

I've never seen anyone be so blatant about gouging a customer in my life.

And I gave my notice at work this past week. It was a sad, tearful thing for me, much harder for me than I anticipated. The administrator Told me that I was wlcome to return to teach at any time and that my record as a teacher was stellar. The academic head promised me a letter of recommendation and a statement of work for my resumé. That was very nice.

And now, I have to set about getting some things sent home and deciding what goes to the states, what gets sent to Omar's family in trujillo, and what goes in the trash. We're having gangs of fun here!

A Drylander's Easter Holiday

Easter this year wasn't exactly like I thought it would be...in some ways, that's a relief and in others, it's a bummer. One of the bummer things is that Omar isn't here, so I'm lonely and spending a lot of time on Facebook, bothering my friends and family while I wait for the work week to begin. One of the good things is that I get to do whatever I want. One of the ways that it's a relief is that there's no one else's stuff pushed on me.

Usually, we go to Fanny's house. Fanny is Omar's cousin, who lives in Ica. They have a bed & breakfast inn there and we usually try to throw our holiday business her way when we can. In fact, nearly all the family does. Usually we would arrive first in our car (which was a minivan), oblivious to the fact that the rest of them were following (or maybe it was just ME who was oblivious to that fact.) Then a day later, two carloads of people - aunts, cousins, nieces, and nephews - would arrive, all jammed and crammed into one single vehicle. How they managed it year after year without someone dying of asphyxiation or being crushed, I'll never know.

So, anyway, during La Semana Santa (Holy Week), this entire family only eats fish. That's a whole week of fish for breakfast, fish for lunch, and fish for dinner. Fish, fish, fish. There's usually fried fish for breakfast, ceviche or fried fish for lunch, and fried fish for dinner, with the more martyrous older ladies picking at fish heads, tails, and fins and declaring them delicious, while the others consume the choice parts of the fish. It's usually at this time that I choose to go vegetarian. Watching someone picking the eyeballs out of fish heads at breakfast or just before going to bed gives me nightmares.

I'm notoriously a drylander. I won't go to the pool on my own - I have to be forced. I don't enjoy swimming and a trip to the beach only entices me to play in the sand and get my feet wet. I don't particularly enjoy the scent of the sea. It smells like fish to me. I do like sea shells, but only if they don't smell like dead fish. So I guess it all comes down to not really being a fan of fish. So during this Easter week, I explore other food options that aren't in conflict with what most people here consider proper. At Fanny's, I ask for bread and butter or avocado with tea for breakfast. For lunch, I can handle ceviche one or two days, but for the other 2 days, I usually ask for potatoes and salad. Dinner is usually similar to lunch. Eyebrows are usually raised at this. I've noticed that unless one specifically asks for vegetables, they are usually not given a starring role at any meal.

During the time at Fanny's we usually go to the fish market in the evening to help her pick out fish for the next day's meals. This market is right on the pier where the fishing boats come in with their catches, so sometimes you have to look sharp to avoid stepping on an escaping crab or the gull that is in hot pursuit. There are also processions on Good Friday that start from the church (I think) and carry the image of Christ and the Virgin Mary through town, returning to end at the same church. It's quite an amazing sight. The streets are closed for the processions, and people line the streets and pack the Plaza de Armas in hopes of getting glimpse of the spectacle, with the devout following throughout the entire route. And in the morning, the men and boys usually go fishing while the women stay in the house and prepare the fish and the rest of the food for the day's meals. After that chore, I usually read in the garden, which is huge and green and filled with pink and purple blooming buganvillia trees, or play with the dog. There's no Easter Egg hunt, no Easter basket, no Easter Bunny. Wah.

All in all, it's a nice week, filled with interesting things to do and see. At the end of the week, we pack our things to head home. It's at this time that it's usually announced that Aunt So&So has gained so much weight by eating too many fish heads that those who originally packed into the one car can't possibly fit into it for the 4 hour ride home. And being the good boy that he was raised to be, Omar usually offers seats in our car to those who would have been at the bottom of the pile in the other car. It's in this way that family members subtlely take advantage of one another. We never refuse. We would never consider refusing...unless there were fish heads brought as an after-Easter snack.

This year, Omar's in Trujillo with his brothers, so Celeste and I are on our own. No sign or scent of fish here. It's still been a vegetarian week, and keeping in mind that I don't bake in this heat, here are a few quick and easy although probably not peruvian things on my menu:

For breakfast:

Fried Granny Smith apples
Peanut butter and jelly sandwich
Miso Soup
Fried zuchini squash with new red potatoes, onions, and tomatoes
any above served with hot black tea

For lunch:

Twice cooked yellow chili peppers stuffed with bread crumbs, cheese, and onions
Fresh lettuce/tomato/cuke/carrot salad with lime juice and salt
Fried eggplant with cheese and fresh tomato/red wine sauce on french bread
Spicy tomato soup with shrimp and lime juice (okay here's a nod to the sea, but only a nod!)
any above serves with lime water or cebada

For dinner:

Anything from the first two menus, freshened up with ensalada criolla (shredded onion, marinated in lime juice and salt, with fresh mint leaves added at the last moment)

- O - throw it all out the window and have...
Pear and apple slices with good bleu cheese and a small glass of dry red wine...My favorite!

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter! This year my Easter is different than I thought it would be. I've had a week's holiday, which was great, but today I'm here with Celeste, and O is in Trujillo with his family. He left on Friday and will be back on Monday. It is a visit with dual purpose. He's there to check on the purchase of the house that we are helping with, and to see what is happening with his father. He left late Friday, promising to take pictures of the house and whatever is happeneing in Trujillo, but I see that he's left the camera on the desk where he put it while packing his back pack. Hmmm.

So, because I have nothing more interesting to show you, here are two spindles that I recently acquired:


Mahagony and paduak wood top whorl spindle

Reclaimed ash top whorl spindle.

This spindle maker uses only wood from old furniture that might otherwise be left in the landfill. I think it's a great idea to recycle and reclaim wood and other materials in this way!

And, I'm working on a funky crocheted skirt. Deep green, the top of it is mesh, ad the bottom is...well, the bottom part, I'm still working on. It's a process of evolution. I've experimented with several options and ripped out each one. I've got one more option in the works and if that one doesn't work out, I'm thinking about a whole skirt of crocheted mesh work, with maybe some beads on the lower edge to give it some weight. And since I have the camera, I should be able to put up some pictures of it later today, when I have it all figured out.

And you thought I was gone...

Right. I have some new spindles to show!

2 new spindles made by Heidi, who is RestlessPeasant on Ravelry. The top spindle is the Posey, and has my spin a long fiber on it. The middle one is the Big Lotus, a bottom whorl spindle made to ply with, and the lower spindle is a tibetan-style supported spindle made by Grizzly Mountain Arts on Etsy.com. I haven't learned to spin with it yet, but ooo la la! It's a beauty!
This is also a spindle made by Grizzly Mountain Arts. It's a tahkli supported spindle, the fat part (the whorl) is made from Tiger Maple and the tip is of mesquite wood. The shaft is birch. this spindle is a LOT of fun to spin on, but I don't think I'm terribly proficient with it yet, because it takes me a really LOOONG time to spin with. I use it to spin laceweight singles and it does great!

Here's the Big Lotus, with some plied laceweight yarn on it. I love the artwork that Heidi does on these spindles!

And I've been doing some spinning, as well.

I've been participating in a "Year of the Tiger" spin a long, and you can see some of that on the purple flower spindle. It's gorgeous fiber, fun to spin, and well prepared. I hope the yarn turns out as beautifully as the unspun fiber is!

Yesterday, O and I closed on a house in Trujillo. We have sold this apartment and the car in anticipation of moving to the US in mid-May, and WHAT?? O's family finds themselves evicted from the house they were renting because the owner sold it to someone who plans to live in the house (It was a major GAAAAGH!!! moment for me.) So...being the good son he is, O decided to buy a house for them. Not like we're so well-off that we can just go around buying houses whenever we feel like it, but neither of us could stand to see his brother and his wife and new baby, and his incapacitated father out on the street with no place to go. Their income is barely enough to get by on, and they usually end up living in a little ramshackle place (like the one they were just evicted from.) Isn't it just typical that just when everything seems to be coming together, something falls to pieces and things don't turn out like we planned?

So. Nearly all our savings here in Peru went into this house, which is plenty big for everyone. The roof is good, the walls are sound, the door locks, and each person can have his or her own bedroom, even O's mother, when she comes to visit. There is a mall planned to be built not far away in the near future, so the property values in this area are predicted to double in the next few years. The brother plans to buy his own place in a year or two, and it may be that the father will not live for too many more years. If all this comes to pass, we'll sell this house and hopefully earn our money back (fingers and toes crossed.) If not, then O's family will have a place to live as long as they need it, with no danger of being evicted. The deal is that they have to make periodic improvements in exchange for living there. In theory, it's a good deal for them, and possibly for us, but in practice...well, I have my apprehensions. I've already had my experience with other people living in my house, and it wasn't good.

Don't you just love it when a plan comes together? I mean, after all...What could possibly go wrong? :o(

Dear Blog...

Oh dear blog, I have left you alone for far too long! I swear that I have not totally forsaken you for Facebook. I have taken some photos and promise to post them as soon as I find the USB cable! (Farmville has almost stolen my very soul!)

My World and Welcome to It

What a week! It's been just like the rest of my life: so full of odd little instances that it seems like my entire life is full of odd little instances. So it's like one big odd instance that lasts a whole week.

We're getting ready to move back to the US, at least I am, and to prepare, we're doing things! Yes! We're doing things! Not exactly the kind of things you might imagine, though. Behold:

Last Sunday, O and I went to get groceries at the local supermarket. We got his favorite greek-style olives that come in a plastic box full of olives and juice. They are a local product, really, Peru has almost everything necessary to be self-sufficient in the way of produce and natural resources. Anyway, these olives were carefully placed into a bag and loaded from the shopping cart to the back seat of the car. Then we unloaded all th grocery bags from the car to the steps of the apartment building. I only have so many hands, so I usually drop my cell phone and wallet into a bag with dry goods, like bags of rice and boxes of cereal, so I can carry everything up. So I did that, but somehow the box of olives got turned on its side and all the juice leaked out in to the bag they were in. When I lifted that bag to the counter, it went all catty-wampus on me and all the juice that had left the olives splashed out...into the bag with my cell phone and wallet. Oddly, everything in the wallet was totally dry, which was probably due to the fact that my cell phone soaked up a lot of the liquid, and ended up fried. Argh. Cell phone sautéed by its own battery, in olive juice.

Later that night some lady called for O, and upon discovering that he wasn't at home, she asked for his cell number. I had to tell her that I didn't know what his number was, since it was saved to my cell, I never bothered to learn it - just hit the speed dial to call him. After finding out that I was his wife, she proceeded to tell me what a terrible wife I must be, if I didn't even know my own husband's cell phone number and what was I going to do about it, and did he know that I was so slovenly and uncaring that I didn't keep track of his phone number and she was certainly going to tell him about it.

I hung up on her.

Then we sold the car. O was thrilled that he'd driven a hard bargain and gotten his price, which was really pretty good for a 1997 Mitsubishi Chariot minivan that had been rear-ended at east once and honestly needed some serious repairs. We transferred the title over and collected our money and walked back to the house, which was the moment that reality set in. OMG, it was like losing a child! O has been in mourning for a week, but shows signs of adjusting to life on foot again, or at least life on city bus.

The next day, O hitched a ride to class with a friend who lives in Chorrillos, an hour away from our neighborhood. That was really nice of the guy, but O forgot his keys in the friend's car and didn't realize it till he got home...then had to take a taxi all the way to Chorrillos to retrieve the key. He didn't get back home till around midnight. And then he told me that his taxi driver was either drunk or really tired because he couldn't drive without roaming all over the road and he kept falling asleep at the stop lights. SCARY!

On Thursday, when I stepped out the door to go to work, the doorman told me that the water tank would be cleaned on Friday about 10 am, and that the water would be off for a few hours. What he REALLY meant was that the water would be off for a FEW DAYS. The water was turned off before I got home from work on Thursday, and stayed off till this morning. Thursday night, I walked to the closest store to buy some 2.5 liter bottles of water so we'd have drinking water and something to brush our teeth, knowing that the water would be on in the morning for showers and washing dishes and whatnot. On Friday, I returned to the store to buy some more water to scrub off with. On Saturday, I went to the store AGAIN to buy water and found it sold out of water. GAAUUGH! Saturday
was particularly hot in the classrooms and I was feeling particularly self-conscious and stinky as I walked between the desks during the exams. It was more like squishing and sloshing between the desks as I sweated along. After two days of bathing in a plastic water bottle, I was beginning to feel like I'd been in the trenches for far too long. In short, I reeked. I was thankful for the end of the work day so I could get home and take a shower. Surely the water would be on by the time I got home.

WRONG.

The worst of it was that not only did I stink, but I had quite a good crop of fruit flies buzzing in and around my sinkful of dirty dishes and a pile of laundry like I hadn't seen since having surgery last year. It was too much for me, so I grabbed the last bottle of water before O could, slammed the kitchen door shut before the flies could take over the rest of the house, and took refuge in the bathroom to scrape off the top layer of dried sweat and car exhaust. I did leave the last half of the bottle of water for O...he stunk worse than I did.

This morning, before daylight, I checked for water in the bathroom. EUREKA!! We had struck water again and I leapt in the shower. After that, I attacked the kitchen with a can of Raid and scared the daylights out of the flies that had taken up housekeeping in the sink, beneath the dirty dishes. I'm sure I didn't manage to kill any of them, but I destroyed their stockpile of moldy and stinking food bits when I washed the dishes, so there's nothing worth returning for. I posted the Raid can on the window sill as a wicked reminder to any and all flies that my kitchen sink is an unfriendly environment for fruit flies.

What can this coming week bring that could possibly beat last week? Can't wait to see...

A rose is a rose...

I put on my favorite perfume today, before I went to work - Anais Anais. It smells of roses, but not like my grandmother's rose scent. This is a decidedly different rose. All the same, after riding through the city and exiting the bus between others, I arrived at work smelling like what I was - an exhausted rose. Make that vehicle exhaust. My Anais Anais is still with me, but so is a little exhaust. Hmm. It's almost impossible to escape the exhaust and exhaustion in this city. One seems to go hand in hand with the other.

I've been spinning, also. I've finished 4 ounces of Gypsy (superwash merino/sari silk/sparkles) and it's looking pretty good! I have about 400 yards of fingering weight, and still have another 4 ounces to go. It's moving pretty fast, and I should be finished plying the last of the latest spindle-full tomorrow. I managed to spill a glug of Coke on one spindle, so the soaking will be a welcome part of the processing and finishing. Sheesh! How clutzy can I be???

(Note to self: Coke is off-limits while using the computer AND while spindling.)

Celeste has sensed a change in attitude towards her since she's almost finished shedding her winter duds. She's now clean and pretty, and was actually invited to take a nap on the bed with O this weekend. It helped her little prima donna attitude bounce back, and when she had to vacate the bed so I could lie down, she made a face at me and retired to her own plushy-but-hairy bed.

I spent Thanksgiving in a funk for a couple of reasons. One - I had to work. Two - nobody celebrates Thankgiving here, so that was kind of bumsville for me. Three - Christmas will most likely be the same for me. Christmas here is so commercial it's ridiculous. You thought it was bad in the US, didn't you? Well, multiply that by 5 and add all your friends and relatives, godchildren, neighbors, and every Tom, Dick, & Harry who gets on the bus begging, and you've got the makings of a depressing holiday. And there's not even the remotest chance of a white Christmas here. Hmmmm....

On Friday, I got on the bus, and a young man followed me on. He gave us God's blessings, and began to talk about how he had just 5 hours earlier been released from prison. In order to prevent him from returning to his criminal ways, everyone on the bus was to pay him for his performance...and he took out a long handled tablespoon, which he pushed up his nose. I guess that trick is too common here in Lima, because he left the bus without much more than 50 centimos. He laid a curse on us all before he left. Luckily we all know Moises, from the previous post, who can break the curse and we'll all come out smelling like roses...exhausted roses, but roses all the same.

The plan is coming together...slowly.

A week's gone by and I still have this head cold. It's in it's final phase, but what a pain in the rear - ...err... - head it's been. Classes have started once again and I have 6 full days of classes, from the very beginning in Basic 1 to Intermediate 3. Almost all of my students this time seem to be good ones. There are a few that will make me tired, but most of them seem to be enthusiastic and ready to participate and learn. At least for now.


I've been spinning, yes, and finally finished the Ginger & Plum fiber, plus two skeinlettes of complimenting orange yarn and purple yarn. Just enough of each to do toes and heels in socks, or a border of mostly solid color. So, I'm happy with that. I also started another set of batts in Enchanted Knoll Farm's "Gypsy". This yarn will be more along the worsted weight (I hope), but I have no real project in mind for it right now. I thought I did when I started spinning, but I've already got one spindle filled and all my great ideas have evaporated. Now, I guess I'll just see what it wants to become.


The most exciting news for me is that we've got a buyer for the apartment next spring. He's already made his offer, and we've accepted it. He'll give us our asking price and make a substantial down payment, then take over the remaining payments. He'll take possession of the apartment in May next year, so that will give me time to send things home to the farm, and repaint, and replace things as needed. Yeay! Maybe by that time, I'll have all of Celeste's fuzz trapped and under control. But, anyway, things do seem to be going according to plan.

O is off to see about a scholarship for a post grad program at the University of Northern Colorado - possibly. You never really know about things down here in Peru. They seem to go great guns, and then somebody stops for a beer, and things go off track for a few...well, ummm...months. We'll see how it all goes. Here's O (the tallest tree in this little orchard) and his compañeros, having left the track already, chowing down. Beer to come.

The Wild One-Oh-Four

A ride to work on the city bus is always a unique experience, but a ride on the 104 is a whole different ball game. I usually ride the Linea 48, a safe and more comfortable bus...but the 48 stops for 15 seconds and waits for no latecomer. So yesterday, I ended up taking the 104.

The 104 runs older buses; usually old Bluebird school buses that may or may not have the seats nailed down, rattle like mad, and the drivers seem to be convinced that with open windows and tremendous speed, even the oldest heavily-loaded vehicle might be coaxed into sprouting wings. There are times when not only the passengers and seat bottoms are launched from their usual places inside the bus, but the bus may also go airborne at various times of the day.

There are no shock absorbers on these buses and, I think because of that, you can always tell when the 104 is approaching from the racket of the rattling body, doors and windows. Step aboard and let your hair down...it'll be standing on end in just a few moments! Don't forget to get a good grip on something before take-off.

Linea 48 attracts a higher paid clientele, and due to that, it also attracts salespeople and performers of a higher caliber...or at least with higher expectations. The 48 often has traveling musicians who perform and sell their cds on the bus. The salespeople don't limit themselves to selling candies - they have 30 cent pens, sewing kits, and books. The real talent - the guys who push the screwdrivers up their noses - also finds itself on board the Linea 48.

ON the other hand, the 104 gets the candy sellers, the kids who sing through their mom's comb and a Kleenex tissue, the guy who can't play a guitar so he beats out a rhythm on a seat back with a coin or his wedding ring while singing off key, and the woman who rented her neighbor's baby to beg for money. The good thing is that they don't stay long - it's very hard for an off-key singer to be heard over the rattle of the 104 body panels, no matter how hard he pounds on the seat or the door frame. And women carrying rented babies have a hard time staying upright while the bus is airborne. So usually the beggars and the performers jump on, take a quick turn up and down the aisle, and jump back off. Knitting on board is almost impossible because of the bone-jarring, stitch scattering ride, but most people don't notice. They're usually totally occupied with hanging onto the OMG bars in front of them or over head.

This morning, while on my way home after my morning class, a man got on the bus to beg for money. As he started his speech, the driver said, "Hazlo en breve, amigo. No tendres mucho tiempo de hablar." (Make it brief, buddy. You won't have much time to talk.) No sooner did he get those words out of his mouth, when the bus lurched forward and we launched, rattling off down Abancay Avenue. The beggar seemed to be putting a lot of effort into his speech, but nobody could hear a word he said. Once we were airborne, he had no choice but to cut it short and get off at the nearest landing pad...errr...bus stop.

Small blessings in disguise.

of eye glasses and fiber...

The inevitable happened yesterday: I got glasses...again. Yes, I admit it - I have the over 40 eye syndrome. When I last went to the eye doctor, I had just turned 44, and he told me that "everybody goes through this after they turn 40." So I got glasses. And almost never wore them. Then I came to Peru, went camping, and lost my glasses, but didn't realize it till several weeks later. I talked to O about it, but he was no help. So I squinted along, fumbling through things, until July, when I really couldn't see something that O was trying to point out to me. He apparently thought I was joking way back there 3 years ago when I told him that I lost my specs in Canta. We talked about going to the eye doctor (one of his friends is an optometrist), then he promptly put it off until I came back from vacation. I returned and fell over his bag that he left in the middle of the living room. (I'm not really THAT blind, it was dark, though, and I wasn't expecting him to drop his briefcase right there.) He noticed then, and decided that MAYBE I really did need glasses. Then other things happened and my eyes were put on the back burner until this weekend, when I THREW THE FIT FROM HELL and we went to the eye doctor and then to the optical district in Lima Centro.

As it turns out, the vendadora de lentes has a contract with the optometrist around the corner, and the eye exam was free. Then the salesgal did her best to sell me frames that were de moda (in style). She managed to do that, but not before O did some squabbling with her about price. We finally left there with a pair of fashionable glasses, complete with proper prescription lenses, for 80 nuevos soles, about $30 US. Not bad! (wish I'd have had them about 3 years earlier.)

In other news, I've finished spinning 550 yards of fingering weight yarn of Plum & Ginger merino/silk/sparkly fiber, and it's hanging out the laundry room window. Pictures when it's totally dry...maybe tomorrow!

I Owe My Life to My Shoes

Huh. Well, I haven't had much to write in the last little while. There's not too much going on here, now that I'm back from vacation. It's always a little tough to accept the fact that my free time is gone and I'm back to the grindstone. This month I've got 2 regular classes that are 2 hours long, and a third that is 4 hours long. So far, things are going along pretty well!

One thing that I was able to do while I was in the States was to get clothes that fit me. Thank goodness! Here in Peru, the average woman is about 5 inches shorter than I am, so legs and sleeves on clothes are always way to short. Anyway, I got some slacks that fit, some blouses that fit, and some shoes that fit. YEAY! Amazingly, it was the shoe purchase that turned out to make the biggest difference in everything I've done so far.

The shoes are just black lace-up oxfords. Flats. O laughed when he saw them, and everyone at work has looked at them with a smirk or a grimace on their faces. But I love them. Wearing these shoes has resulted in no more leg and foot pain, a lot less swelling in my legs and feet, and a totally happier me! I contribute the fact that my classes are going so well to the fact that I have a better outlook on life, since I have no more pain. Thanks to plain old black leather oxford shoes. No, they're not stylish, but they support my feet and are totally comfortable. I can climb up to the 8th floor and back down without crying. I also got a brown pair of Maryjanes with a thick rubber sole and wide toe - no heel to speak of, either. Yes, they look like little girl shoes in a large size, but I can wear them all day without tears!

I look at the shoes that the women around me are wearing and wonder who thought up such creative torture devices. Watching women totter around on impossible thin and high stiletto heels makes my legs ache. And those sharp-pointed toes...I can imagine my own toes squashed into a shoe like that - brings a tear to my eyes! The cruelest thing about this form of torture is that women have been brain-washed into thinking that these are desireable things to wear and will consciously force themselves to wear them - all in the name of fashion. Old women struggle along painfully in dangerously high-heeled shoes, mincing along unsteadily beside their younger daughters, nieces, and friends who are also tippy-toeing down the sidewalk in similar toe-mashing, leg cramping, ankle twisting foot killers. Never again will I wear anything like that (fingers crossed.)

My last shoe purchase was in Trujillo last weekend. Lily invited me to go shoe shopping, since Trujillo is the shoe capital of Peru. She bought stiletto heeled sandals, open-toed high heels, and a pair of platform tennis shoes. I bought myself one pair of men's high-topped leather hiking boots.

Lily sighed and rolled her eyes. She's always considered me to be a complete loss when it comes to following fashion trends. I say thank God for black leather oxfords with no heel.

frustrations

Okay. I just spent the last month teaching 100 students pronunciation, grammar, vocabulary, and colloquialisms in the English language. Yesterday, I asked each of them if they had done their homework, and fully HALF of them said, "No teacha, I ause yeseday," (No teacher, I was absent yesterday.)

So, why go to all the trouble to present this stuff, if they are so willing to throw it aside when they have the opportunity to use it in a more authentic way than a contrived dialogue written in their textbooks? Never mind the fact that most of them WERE NOT absent - why NOT add what they learn to their repertoir, rather than stick with the "I ause yeseday"? What better way to personalize and make an authentic conversation than to talk about something real for them?

Today they have their final written exam, tomorrow they have to present a project in spoken and written form, and on Thursday, they have an oral exam in which they have to make use of all the language they have in their lessons. "I ause yeseday" gives me no confidence at all that they have learned or have tried to learn anything. I guess I'll see.

I've been told by the administration that I'm too demanding and that I expect way too much from my students. I wonder if that's bad. I expect them to be motivated and study. I expect them to come to class. I expect them to do their homework. I absolutely expect them to respond in some way, be it a correct answer, an "I don't know," or even "I don't really care." At the end of the cycle, many of them try to wheedle a better grade out of me by whining and tearing up or batting their eyes and flirting with me. Some try to intimidate me into raising their grades. Still others use guilt trips and head games, and one even resorted to the traditional Peruvian way - bribery.

I don't remember school or the few college classes I took being anything remotely like this. Maybe all those years working for the Air Force made my world too sheltered and structured. What ever happened to integrity, responsibility, and impeccability? Actually, I'm not that hard of a person. If I can see some TRY in a student, I'm willing to give him or her the benefit of the doubt. But to spend the cycle piddling around, talking about boyfriends, trying to sleep in class, or just not coming, and THEN try to squeeze extra points out of me? Sorry baby, I'm not that easy.

Just quickly...

Damn this day job! It interferes so much with my REAL life, my fiber life. Between a correspondence course on line, a presentation and class observation with another instructor, getting evaluated, and a full day of teaching, I'm not getting the proper quality time with my projects. Knitting with the mermaid blue/green/purple roving has become so addicting; just watching those gorgeous colors slip through my finger is mesmerizing. It's been quite an interesting experiment so far. I'm not advancing as fast as I'd like, partially due to a little vegetable matter (VM) that's cropping up as I split the roving and draft it out to the thickness that I want for knitting. And partially due to the fact that I spend a lot of time just staring at the colors and imagining that I'm in a clean, clear river in the mountains.

Septimus Heap is over for now. Wah. It was a fast and fun read, but now I have to wait to get the next volume until I go visiting Barnes & Noble when I go home next month. The SH series is a result of the Harry Potter craze, but these books are a little more gentle and less violent. Not that there's a lack of danger and adventure - there is plenty - but it's handled in a way that's more suited for a younger reader. So it focuses a little more on the fun aspect of the magical imagination than Harry Potter does. Things also take place outside of the walls of the castle, in the forest, in the Marsh, in the Badlands, and in the Ramblings, and things seem a little more verdant and fresh, and not so dark. Plus the characters are kind of different. The story is a little less sophisticated than Harry Potter, and so are the characters. I definitely recommend The Septimus Heap series if you want a fun, quick read! The good thing is that there doesn't seem to be an end to the series looming on the horizon.

And, speaking of going home, I really cannot wait to go! It's been 2 years since I've had a vacation, and I'm ready. It's been 2 years since I've spent much time at all out of the smog and car exhaust. I need a few lungfuls of clean country air, even if it's flavored with eau d' dairy cow, goat, or alpaca. Plus, I need some clothes. My work clothes are getting worn out and I seem to be too big to be able to find affordable clothing and footwear here. My tennis shoes have several holes in them now and the soles are so smooth that I get no traction at all with them.

*Sigh* It's time to get ready for work again. See you later.

Complicated lives

While the US and the rest of the world is mourning the passing of Michael Jackson, Peru is feeling the pain of losing one of their own musical stars, Alicia Delgado. Alicia died last week, murdered at the hands of (supposedly) her chauffeur. It's a complicated tale, which gets more and more complex and twisted as the police dig further into her life.

From what I can gather, Alicia was known as the "Princesa de Folclor" (Princess of Folklore) and was a very popular singer of huayno (Peru's brand of country music.) The story is that she was married and later divorced from her husband, then hooked up with another female huayno singer, Abencia Meza, who later became Alicia's closet lover. After a time of performing together, they decided to come out of the closet. This was complicated by the fact that Alicia also had a male lover, a fact which really torqued Abencia's jaw.

Sooo...last week, Alicia was found, killed by a bullet to the brain. Several people have been arrested, and as the investigation continues, more and more people appear to be implicated, right down to Alicia's own mother, who made it known that if anything were to happen to Alicia, her mother would be able to sell Alicia's apartment for quite a pretty penny. Alicia's chauffeur claims that Abencia paid him to kill Alicia, so it's not his fault and he isn't guilty. Hmmm. That's as far as the things went last night. Maybe the news tonight will reveal still more twists in this confusing story.

Celeste is so confused by this sordid tale that she felt the need to leave a trail of dog food pieces from her bowl to the living room...you know, just in case she can't find her way to bed tonight. Hopefully there are no crows to come behind her and eat her crumbs. She might end up missing her bed and wind up in the witch's cottage deep in the forest, with Hansel and Gretel!

Okay, now I'm the one who's confused. Anyway, here's a Youtube flick of Alicia, and one of Abencia. Don't you just love a good "Whodunit"?

Protestation, violation, retaliation, and examination

Well, this last week has been interesting!

there has been a growing unrest among the indigenous people of the Amazon region. For years there has been a law protecting the Amazon rainforests and the indigenous people who live there. But within the last year or so, the government of Peru has opened up that area to logging and oil. This decision affects the property and lifestyles of the people who live in this area, and it was done without consulting them or allowing them to vote on it, or to express their opinions in any way. It has led to numerous non-violent protests and roads blocked with stones and people, typical of the way the Peruvian people usually express their disagreement with government actions. But, as I said, unrest has been growing, culminating in a confrontation between the indigenous and national police who were sent to clear a roadblock near Tarapoto. This confrontation resulted in several indigenous people being killed...which in turn led to police in a different area (Bagua) being killed or taken hostage, in retaliation for what happened in Tarapoto. Bloodshed there in Bagua (pronounced Bá-Wa) continued for a week, during which time the leader of the Bagua indigenous faction fled to the Nicaraguan embassy in Lima to avoid arrest.

Last Thursday, the protestors followed their leader to Lima and staged a protest on Abancay Avenue, where the Ministry of the Interior is located, as well as being just half a block from where I work. The police were prepared, but none of the local people were aware of what was going to happen until it happened. About 3:30 in the afternoon, hundreds of university students and indigenous people marched on Abancay Avenue, armed with clubs, steel pipes, and 2 x 4s, waving flags and banners, and makng a huge racket with horns, pipes, loud speakers, and the like. I was in my classroom and couldn't hear what my students were trying to say.

Then something went awry and the protest turned violent. Police reacted by shooting tear gas into the crowds and chasing a good number down to the middle of the block (where I work!) with gas bombs. Although the steel doors on our building were closed and the windows were closed to the second floor, gas still managed to enter the building. Between the noise and the effects of the gas, classes had to be temporarily stopped. And, heh, I had one student who just couldn't resist opening a window and sticking his head out to see the spectacle. He got a good doses of tear gas.

Oddly, I wasn't affected by the gas. I had several students who complained of sore throats and itchy eyes. I didn't feel anything. Huh. Musta been all those years of gas mask training in the Air Force, with real tear gas. We were locked down for about an hour, then students were allowed to go home out the back way, to avoid the remnents of the protest.

And then, on Saturday, I had to take an English proficiency exam provided to the institute by the University of Michigan. I'm not sure how I did, although it seemed to be to easy to be real, for me. I wonder if this will benefit me in some way. Every ICPNA instructor has to take the exam and pass it, but what will it do for me in the future? Nothing, probably. English is my first language, and at my age, I expect that I should be proficient in it.

All last week, I had substitutions. I'm not sure what was happening...maybe everyone was sick? I don't know, but I had 10 hours of work every day. Love the extra money, but the hours really sucked. Wah.

After a long pause...

...I'm back. I've been swamped, then run down, and consequentially got sick. Now I'm back on my feet again, and although still swamped with work, not sick anymore. I apologise for the tardiness in posting and meeting my commitments, but rest assured that I am back in commission and in gear once again.

See you on Monday!

Socks and the Peace Corps

On Monday, I have an appointment with the Peace Corps. No, I'm not joining, but they are in need of people to help with their training program. They need to practice evaluating people who are coming to work with varyinig degrees of fluency in Spanish. My fluency in Spanish definitely varies from subject to subject. I can talk about the house, the market, and work with fair proficiency, but I have absolutely no technical vocabulary at all. So, I'll give themm someone to practice evaluating and they'll tell me what my Spanish fluency level is. I think it's a fair trade, and it should be interesting and fun.

I've been spinning and knitting up a storm this week. Remember this?



Well, I'm in the process of turning it into socks for my dad's girl, June. June thinks her feet are ugly, so she refuses to wear anything except some big clunky tennis shoes, which realy ARE ugly. I'm hoping that with some colorful socks, Junie will wear some sandals or something nicer. Anyway, another pair of handspun, handknit, sparkly merino socks never hurt anyone.

And I've been spinning up "Cabaret" for socks, too. I'm hoping for knee socks. Sparkly, dazzling, jewel-toned knee socks. I'm in the process of plying about 3.5 ounces of it now. Two and a half ounces are still left to spin. I think I'll have enough! :o)

I wonder if it's the heat.

Saturday and today presented me with social challenge that I haven't figured out yet.

On Saturday, I walked around the corner of the block on my way to work to find a woman lying on the sidewalk, apparently taking a nap. She was an older lady, I think she might have been in her late 50's. And standing next to her was a policeman. I wondered what was going on, but really, there are many people in this city who simply drop down wherever they happen to be and take a nap. I stepped around her, asked the policeman if she was okay and, getting a curt, "Yes lady. She's fine," I continued on to work. Everyone else stepped over her or around her and didn't worry about her.

Later that day, I went to have lunch in the local Metro supermarket comedor and stepped over this lady again! She was awake this time, lying in a different part of the block, in the middle of a busy sidewalk, stripped naked to the waist and apparently taking in some sun. She smiled and waved to me and I waved back. But I was and still am confused about her. People stepped over and around her and basically ignored her.

This morning while on my way to the bus stop to go home for lunch, I crossed paths with a woman who was completely naked, save for her woven shawl that she wore around her shoulders. She was apparently in no mood to talk and marched resolutely on, bare-footed and bare everywhere else, except, of course, for her shoulders. People and policemen did nothing, said nothing and simpy ignored her.

I wonder what happened to these two women. If I were in the US, the policeman wouldn't have been standing idly by while the first woman caught a nap in the middle of the sidewalk. He might have called for an ambulance or some other kind of asistance, and let her know that there were other places to doze. Later, people might have suspected that both women been assaulted because of their states of undress and called 911, or at the very least offered to help them find some clothing.

Is it the heat? Is it strange that no one else seems to think it's strange to see the isolated naked and half-naked women on the sidewalk in a modern city, regardless of how dangerous or overcrowded it is? Doesn't it bother people to see others like this, especially in dangerous places like this inner city area?

It just frickin freaks ME out. I think need to go talk to my supervisor about what I should be doing in situations like these. Maybe doing nothing like everyone else is the correct thing to be doing, but it sure doesn't feel right to me.