Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Arroz con Pato


“Vamos a la chacra” says one the seceretaries at my school, which my reply is “por supuesto, dime donde y cuando.” So that Sunday, I grab a mototaxi to her street, ask some random strangers where “la señora Soledad” lives and away we go.

I quickly meet her sister, her daughter, her niece, and having already eaten breaksfast, ate breakfast again. Luckily they were tamales, which I love, but Soledad insisted I did not like them since I could only eat one. Our leaving time was 9am, so by 11am we were up and running to the chacra or fields.

I quickly meet Don Adan—who owns the chacra—his fighting cocks (Camaná’s biggest sport), cuy (guinea pig), and various ducks, chickens, etc. The house is humble, a quaint bachelor’s pad for a 63 year old man. The furnishings are sparce and there is a definitely lack of feminine touch, or cleaniness, about the place. I love it.

We immediately get to work. Soledad selects a fine rag, already dirty and everything, and wipes off the table we will be using. The fire is started, and the water is boiling overtop of the wood fire.  Don Adan enters into the shed we are standing in with his pato or duck and his machete, swiftly places it’s neck on the table and whack, I have seen my first animal slaughtered. The duck was then placed in a pot to bleed out while Don Adan came in with the chicken, animal slaughter number two.

After helping defeather the duck and chicken, cleaning and cutting them up, it was time to go to the fields. Don Adan and I picked corn, followed by lots of dicing of vegetables on blackened tables, aromas of cooking soup and duck. Don Adan and I exchanged dirty jokes and freshly boiled eggs while we waited patiently for the duck to be cook.

All together we enjoyed our chicken soup and mounds of rice with duck, served with homemade wine and Inka cola. To help settle the stomach, we went off to the chacras. The sister and I walked all over, talking about rice fields, types of beans, corn, and onion that were grown. I helped her move the tent that would be used as an overnight outpost to watch over the fields. In the end, it was really just the two of us laughing at the pile of wood and tarp that we were unsuccessful in making into said tent. Feeling sufficiently dirty and still full, a return trip for the last of the rice and wine welcomed the night sky and a good sleep, so for your daily dinámica, ask someone how to make “arroz con pato”.

Call it like you see it


While I am particularly used to being PC and accustomed to using terms that would not offend, it is not really the norm for one to do this in Perú. From a young age most Peruvians are used to having little nicknames that describe exactly what one looks like. So it is not at all offensive, in fact it is considered “cariño” or caring to be called fatty, skinny, whitey, moreno (brown, or “darky” one could say) or chino (based on the fact that you have asiatic features). Even gringo is considered a word of endearment for someone that comes from a foreign country. I am often referred to as “gringo” or “joven” when I am in public.

At first this is a bit uncomfortable and one wonders whether or not this is beyond a culture shock moment. Is this type of behavior more detrimental to a person, or have I just been studying too much psychology? I definitley have tried to take all this with a graing of salt. I am in a different country with a different culture.

I still often think this after months of being in Perú that I can’t quite get the idea of smiling while I look at my neighbor and call him piggy or refer to that girl with the chinese eyes. It definitely begs the question, where do conflicting cultures meet? Am I in the right to think this is bad behavior, or are we overly sensitive and censored as a whole.

Daily Dinámica: Popping the Bubble

Keep and open mind about the world around you, there are often things one takes for granted as truth, when it really comes down to perception.


Friday, September 9, 2011

Breakfast of Champions

Two eggs (over easy), toast (with butter), maybe some home fries, and bacon/sausage was my staple growing up. Almost every weekend this was what my dad would fix us. This is a pretty typical American breakfast, and a tradition that I even kept when I would have friends over after shopping at the Farmer’s Market. In Perú, that is just not the case.

Here is a list of foods that I have received in my time in Perú:

Ø  Quaker (pronounced Kwak-air): a liquidy oatmeal usually with cinnamon and/or sugar. This is usually served with any variety of the next items
Ø  2-3 Eggs
Ø  Bread and avacado (my favorite)
Ø  Fried Chicken and french fries
Ø  Eggs and rice
Ø  Ceviche (a cold fish dish, with a lemon juice sauce, onions and other spices), with a yam
Ø  Eggs with stewed tomatoes and onions
Ø  Hamburger
Ø  Varieties of soup
Ø  Spaghetti
Ø  Sauteed onions and tomatoes with bread
Ø  Escaviche de chancho (pickled pig’s feet, with onions) and a potato
Ø  Hot dogs and eggs…or just hot dogs
Ø  Fried sweet potatoe sandwich

Luckily this is sometimes served with warm juice, made fresh, especially if you buy your family fruit from the market. My favorites are pineapple and strawberry.

Daily Dinámica: “Clean Plate”
Trying to finish your plate can be a real challenge, and all you need is a positive attitude and a determined Peruvian to make it happen. When you can eat no more, you may hear “do you not like it?” or “is there something wrong?” which will give you that extra push to make your stomach swell just a littttle bit larger. Of course this may be more difficult when you are presented with pig’s feet; pickled pig’s feet; cold pickled pigs feet. (Which I was told you cannot cut, you must pick it up and chew off the “meat” for future reference.)

Lessons in Note Taking

Every so often I hate that I cannot understand everything that someone is saying. For example, every time my 13 year old host brother opens his mouth. Or when people are trying to scream into a microphone (why scream, that is why there is a microphone?). On the flip side, it can be gosh darn convenient! Many of the strange situations I have been in, such as meetings, conferences, “charlas”, or other events, speakers will drone on as if they were being payed by the hour. They do not seem to have the slightest “verguenza” or embarrassment that A) no one is listening or B) speaking for the hell of it does not convince people you know what you are talking about.

Finding that sliver lining in each situation, I managed to write this entire blog entry while it appears that I am taking important notes on what is going on in the Parents’ Conference that I am involved with. I can sit calmly and watch the parents’ eyes glass over, while Milton—the psychologist—talks about…well I’m not really sure, I can’t understand him.

Daily Dinámica: “Attentively Unaware”

Materials: Paper and Pencil

Start a tally of the strategically placed nod, “ok” and “de acuerdo” during meetings. Throw in the occasional “lo siento, no entiendo” or “puede repetir” so that they don’t catch on to the fact that you are just faking the conversation. The tallies will look like you are taking notes.

Pizza Hunt

Few and far between are the “Pizza Haters”, but I do believe there are a select few of us in this world who are truly Pizza Lovers. I base this statement on my undying need to find Pizza wherever I go..in the world. For many of my years, I have had Pizza as a weekly staple in my life. I could rant on about why, but that is not the point of this blog.

Searching for good Pizza is though. The qualities of a good Pizza are simple: crust, sauce, cheese and toppings. For me, sauce is the most important, which seems to NOT be appreciated in most countries. Brazil…just give up and get Domino’s otherwise you are eating cheezy bread with mayonaise, ketchup, and mustard (it comes with the pizza). Spain…frozen Pizza was the way to go. There was enough sauce (decent at that), and you could personalize them in any way that you wished—three in a pack at Mercadona in Murcia. So now that I am in Perú I am at a loss. I have been to all the local Pizza places I could find, and nothing really satisfies my craving. It’s just all wrong. Pizza Hut (which is fine dining here in Perú) was the best I’ve had so far; real pepperoni I might add. This does not help me when I am in my sight and Pizza Hut is 12 hours away, and I am one of those not so down with chains kind of people. I could recommend a good place in Trujillo, but that is 15 hours away from me, so my Pizza woes may just continue on for the two years to come unless I find a solution.

I am working on finding a place here in Camaná, my prospects are limited though…there are two places. I am attempting to become a regular at one of these places (more because of their wine), so tha I can try and sway them into making Pizza the way it should be made…they way I like it.

Daily Dinámica: Find a great pizza recipe that you know and love and send it to Richard at rich.k.cochran@gmail.com or richard_k_cochran@yahoo.com or on Facebook. All you need is internet and e-mail!