Sleeping on the job, or on the sidewalk.

Everyone has had an awkward or embarrassing moment when you realize that you have nodded off at an inopportune time, jerking awake, finding that slight bit of drool on the side of your chin, or perhaps a gasping snort for air that announces to the room what just happened. Peruvians on the other hand seem to have mastered this art of sleeping in a wide variety of situations and places.

Of course this scenario comes with a variety of extremes, and through extensive research, I have narrowed down day sleepers into two categories:

The Over Worked: You can find these people in meetings, attending to their kiosk, during class, or general groups of people. Having seen how hard my host mothers and a wide variety of Peruvians work, it is more than understandable that they would find any spare moment to sleep. Yet, I am quite surprised by the over worked that are able to wake up and offer you great deals on toilet paper or rice when walking by a busy market.

The Overly Drunk: While most of the Peruvians I have met in my town are quite respectable and work very hard, there are always some exceptions to this rule. A number of times, while casually walking down the street, I’ve narrowly escaped from walking over a gentleman taking a siesta…in the middle of the sidewalk. The first time I was quite shocked, but after I realized (the third time) that no one else was reacting, I assumed this must not be all something to get in a huff about.

I have even begun to try and perfect my own ability to sleep while in longwinded conferences, but no worries, I am quite positive I will be using my bed for any future siestas.

Daily Dinámica:
Social experiments are always a good time, so try and find a friend to help you out with this one. Lay down on a sidewalk and pretend your sleeping and have your comrad record the time it takes for you to get some type of reaction…or for the police to come.

I NEED A SHIRT THAT SAYS: I HEART EMPANADAS

 As a distraction, or a need, I have been shopping around for the perfect empanada (those delicious baked dough things filled with a variety of items). You could call it the Hot Pocket of the Spanish-speaking world. One can find empanadas with chicken, steak, or cheese, with sugar, or without sugar. You can find empanadas with flaky crust, a more bread-like consistancy, or just plain melt in your mouth.

Finding out the wonders of empanadas, I decided to start investigating how diverse and wonderful these delicious one Sol treats could be. So far this is what I have found:

In the market, if you walk half way down, there is a lovely lady – middle aged – with short hair, she has chicken empandas, which are hard to find. I have not tried her other empanadas, but the crust is filling and hardy.

At the corner of the Plaza de Armas, right as you are entering into my street, there is a lady (Rosita) that sells a variety of delicious breads (I recommend her biscotchos) and she also has a cheese empanadas. These mouth-watering empanadas are most likely my favorite, although a bit smaller, have a delightfully flaky crust and sprinkled sugar on top.

On the way to the market about a half a block up from the stoplight, there is a little Panadería (bread store) that has, most likely, the best bread in town (there are french baguettes…). Therefore they also have some of the best empandas, the steak is not bad, but I quite enjoy the cheese.

My study of course is still in progress, so we will see what else I find. There is a delightful man that also sells from a cart (he uses powdered sugar), but I only see him every so often.

Daily Dinámica: If you like a food, try it everywhere you go! Don’t limit yourself to that “one favorite spot” until you have tried them all. I’m definitely not settling until everyone that sells empanadas knows my name. Good luck!

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.

"It was such a blast, it was from the past."

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.