The Final Days

Since early October, Becca had been slowly saying her goodbyes. Feeling the final days grow closer, she visited family, friends, and coworkers, she found herself wandering around town, walking through the dunes and thinking about nothing at all. Excited and terrified she let the days pass.

The last day snuck up on her and suddenly she was carrying her bags out to a moto taxi with her host mom. She watched the store fronts and houses pass on the main road as she sped along. The sun shone brightly as she transferred her things into the combi that would take her to the capitol. There she said her goodbyes to volunteers and her best friend of these crazy two years: Janeth. Until the final moment in the bus terminal with Janeth, Becca hadn't really felt much, she was too numb and in too much disbelief to really get it. But in those seconds that Janeth hugged her for just a little longer than usual, she suddenly knew it was ending.

In reality, this was actually the beginning and the end. The end of Cruz and Morrope and Peace Corps...the beginning of a fantastic COS trip.

Catch Up: Pt. 3

Life in the last months of service was a very different animal. Perhaps we should say a angry wild animal, a giant bull with mood swings that Becca had to figure out whether to run from or take care of. In honesty, time was moving too quickly for her to do anything but marvel at it and try to keep her head above water in the moments of adventure.

She found herself running into interesting activities no matter where she went, like Cruz del Medano’s school anniversary, where she somehow avoided eating rice but still had to dance and got to enjoy the bands from local annexes.

One morning she got a call from her Volunteer Coordinator and good buddy, Zack, asking if she wanted to visit his old site and see the ruins. Along with Zack’s old host mom and another volunteer, Jojo, they explored two hundred year old foot bridges, ruins of churches, Afro-Peruvian museos and danced on top of a convent to booming cumbia music. 

As usual, her students also offered a lot of exciting and often ridiculous moments. Teaching sex ed to eleven and twelve year old students and the impromptu use of a water bottle for a condom demonstration when the tienda was out of bananas had proven to be the gems of her month. However she was also reduced to giggles at the skits put on by her Teen Health Promotors in their final classes, as well as the impromptu relocation of a huge armoire by a group of elementary school students. 

Time was indeed moving forward and while she felt stuck between two worlds and two lives, Becca tried to just hold on and enjoy her final weeks in her beautiful Peru. 

Anatomy of an Anniversary

In the United States, Becca associated anniversaries with her parents...and not much else. While she knew that every building had an anniversary of its inauguration, and every event an anniversary of its day, and every person an anniversary of their birth---wait, that’s a birthday....anyway, anniversaries were a very different thing in Peru. 

The anniversary of the Health Center was a classic example of the day-long festivities of an anniversary celebration.

First there was the misa, or church service, held in the Catholic church a couple of blocks from the Health Center. The padre gave a sermon about the importance of good health and good health services in the community, blessed the bouquets that the Health Center would display with the Virgin María statue.

As ends all moments, both major and minor, their were boatloads of photos with the Virgin.

The statue, with all of it’s adornments, was then carried to the Health Center where it would be displayed and kept safe for the year.

Therein began round one of dancing in celebration before breakfast was served.

Post-lunch came round two of dancing in celebration...

After nearly an hour of dancing, the finger foods were served, the celebration songs sung, the speeches given, more photos were taken, and, you guessed it, there was more dancing.

This continued throughout the day adding on more dancing and drinking and dancing and drinking and dancing and...well you get it. Open, ready, and full of amazing health professionals, the Health Center in Morrope was heading into it’s 42nd year.

The Marablog

When her alarm chimed at 4:30, Becca caught it on the second note and turned it off; she’d been lying awake for a few minutes, fresh from a night of tossing and turning. Though she’d gone to sleep cold, she awoke drenched in sweat and feeling less than lively. Still, she climbed down from the top bunk of her hostel bed, collected the bag she’d packed the night before and left the room.

            Sitemate in tow, she walked to the hostel that housed the remainder of her friends and was greeted by an array of grumbles and half smiles from the sleepy runners. She piled into a cab with four others and they were off, drowsiness quickly turning into nervous energy. Though her race wasn’t until 8:30, those running the marathon and half marathon started at 7 and so Becca found herself near the starting line at 6:30 waiting with the nervous marathoners.

            At 7:00, in classic hora peruana, the race had not yet started. Excitement, three year old American pop music, and a semi irritating announcer saturated the air. Thankfully, by 7:06 they were off!

For the next hour and a half Becca alternating chatting with some of the other people doing the 10k, going to the bathroom due to overzealous pre-race hydration, listening to Kesha, complaining with her race buddy, Brittany, about being hungry, and dancing on the now-empty start line. 

Finally, at 8:34, the 10k started and Becca and Brittany took off across the starting line.

They ran through the streets of Miraflores; past grand houses, cheering cheerers, and one teenage boy racing on a skateboard that caused a lot of “hey, that’s not fair”s. Becca checked her watch as they crossed 5k; 33, minutes, she picked up speed slightly. Somewhere around 6k, she lost her running buddy but decided it was ok and kept pushing on. Unfortunately pushing right onto a crack on the road that caused her to tip, twist her ankle and nearly fall. I say nearly because a nice gentlemen, the one she was in fact trying to pass when she tripped, caught her by the shoulders and righted her. She pivoted onto her opposite knee twisting it but smiled at him anyway and carried.

            As she rounded 7k, her knee, bad ankle and bad foot as began to ache and she suddenly felt 100 years old. This was when she noticed a man running behind her whose enthusiasm was infectious. From the beginning of the race he’d been periodically yelling reasons they should all carry on, things like “let’s run for the children,” “let’s run for those who can’t,” “let’s run for inner strength and outer strength.” Now as she listened, his enthusiasm hadn’t died and his creativity had grown exponentially. “Let’s run for all the hot chicks and the handsome dudes,” “let’s run for the police, oye not from the police, eh?” “Let’s run for all the dog walkers!” He missed nothing.

            Not long after she passed 8k, they ran under a huge arch decorated with balloons which was surrounded by a crowd of people. They all cheered and yelled and Becca noted that one man held a sign which read “One km left!” Becca breathed in a long, deep breath and pushed forward just a little faster feeling the immense relief that they were in the last few minutes. Then she rounded another corner and saw the 9k sign. She felt more anger than dismay and nearly wheeled around to beat the hell out of the liar with the sign. Instead she voted to finish her race and then go back for him, he’d pay.

            People around her were beginning to lose their pace; some stopped to walk, others slowed visibly and one girl collapsed at the side of the road. They were giving up. Becca picked up speed and wove through them chanting “¡Vamos, vamos, vamos!” as she went. She’d never imagined herself the motivational type but something about the moment called for it. She heard the finish line before she saw it; friends, family members, and local residents grouped there cheering the finishers on and Becca grinned as she jumped across the finish line into a crowd of sponsors handing out gear and people taking pictures. Brittany found her a few minutes later and they headed to the food huts.

 That evening, after watching the incredible persistence and physical feats of their friends finishing the half and full marathons, they went out for dinner and enjoyed delicious victory burgers. Becca looked around the table at the pure happiness and pride in her friends’ faces and quietly thanked Kesha and her fanny pack for getting her to the finish line.

Group Photo

Becca´s PEPs are cuter than your PEPs.*

Los promotores del grupo de Becca son mas adorable que los demás 

*This is, of course an exaggeration, all PEPs are adorable.

The PEP-iest Kids I Ever Knew...

In her time living and working in Cruz del Medano, Becca had only experienced a hand full of things that stayed consistent; one of them was the presence of adolescents. From her first visits to the schools to teaching summer English classes to her healthy schools classes to her health promoters project, Becca had gotten used to the giggles, the shouting, and awkward silences.

As her first year came to a close, Becca experienced a series of difficult times: projects falling apart, support fading, general issues of anxiety, but a magical thing seemed to happen every time she felt low: her students, who had begun to feel like her babies, picked her up. Most of the time, it wasn’t intentional. Most of the time, her kids didn’t even know she was struggling, but still they saved her.

With every successful class, with every student who was no longer afraid to say condom (or demonstrate proper use), with every joke that elicited a laugh, with every event where they held their own and learned new things, Becca felt the magic. The magic that told her she was going to make it through this next year and that her babies were going to be what got her there.

Photos from the First Annual Pasos Adelante Conference with all of the Teen Health Promoters in Lambayeque

Fotos de la primera conferencia regional de Pasos Adelante por Lambayeque

Durante su tiempo de vivi y trabajar en Cruz del Medano, Becca ha tenido pocas cosas que estaban consistentes y sin cambiar; uno de esas cosas fue la presencia de adolescentes. Desde sus primeras visitas al colegio hasta sus clases de vacaciones útiles hasta sus clases de escuelas saludables hasta su proyecto de promotores educadores pares, Becca se acostumbró a las sonrisas, las gritas, y los silencios raros.

Cuando su primer año estaba terminando, Becca estaba teniendo tiempos difíciles: algunos proyectos se terminó mal, el apoyo se terminó, problemas generales de ansiedad, pero una cosa mágica pasaba cada vez ella estaba triste: sus alumnos, como sus bebitos, se ayudaron. Muchas veces no estaba intencional porque ellos no sabían pero los alumnos se salvó ella. 

Con cada clase, con cada alumno que no tenían miedo a decir “condón” (o demostrar como usar un condón), con cada broma, con cada evento que salió bien, Becca se sintió la mágica. La mágica que indica que ella va a terminar un año mas con éxito y que va a terminar con todo el buen apoyo de sus bebes. 

My Toenails Aren’t Growing (And Other Concerns)

One evening after a far-too-long long day,

I stretched out on my bed to drift away,

Then looked down at my feet,

A strange thought I did meet,

My nails haven’t changed since last May...

Surely the polish had started to chip,

But all sign of growth had taken a dip,

When I glanced at my fingers,

Where polish yet lingers,

I found the same thing on those tips.

For that matter where did these bumps come from,

And my ears have developed a permanent hum,

My knee hurts when I hike,

My shoulders when I bike,

And my tailbone’s now permanently numb.

Some days there’s a quick sprint to the bathroom,

On others I long for the need for that zoom,

When with other PCVs*

It’s topics like these,

Make me wonder if I’ll ever find a groom.

In the mornings I wake with a sore throat and back,

I think that I’m shrinking from the calcium I lack,

Do I have a parasite,

I think that I might,

The cure will surely be watching TV on my mac.

All of my hair is turning grey or falling out,

I have six new moles from cancer no doubt,

Host mom says it’s the cold,

Or that my coffee’s too bold,

Oh and I’m sure I’m developing gout.

It’s crazy though, each day I’m sure that I’m dying,

But if I said I’d like to go home, I’d be lying,

Toenail growth or no,

Toilets as friend or foe,

When I leave here I know I’ll be crying.

*Peace Corps Volunteers