Well, somehow I officially left Denver 10 days ago. I found leaving to be a lot harder than I expected, how do you say bye to people you care so much about for 11 months? How long even is 11 months? What did I get myself into? The flight from Denver to orientation in Philly/ New Jersey was full of questions such as these as well as... Why am I doing this? Why did I feel such a calling to this? Why volunteer? Although, I still have yet to answer, well any of these questions my four days at orientation and now my week in Lima has begun to remind me why I applied for this year and this program in the first place. Orientation was full of answers about what to expect in Chulucanas, what Chulu looks like, what the culture is like, how they dress, and much more. Past volunteers skyped us and drove up to meet with us, calm our nerves, and answer all our questions. Orientation was also a time of bonding, five hour long scategories games, learning to cook and grocery shop as a community, and hang out with the South Africa community and our directors. The days were long but in the end we were happy to have had that time to prepare.
And then, alas we were off, out of Newark airport on an eight hour direct flight to Lima. The flight was long, full of movies and little sleep. But, of course it wouldn't be one of my traveling experiences without a minor problem...an hour outside of Lima about where you cross the Equator, the plane hit sudden turbulence that sent me flying out of my seat and into the ceiling, the next five or so minutes were spent listening to passengers scream with terrified looks on their faces. The weirdest part about the turbulence was the fact that no one said anything over the intercom system to calm passengers down or apologize about the fact that I hit my head on the ceiling.
Anyway, we made it, and were greeted at the airport with a sign by a man named Joel. Over the course of the week Joel became our best friend, he was our driver, cook, personal helper, my running partner and translator. Funny part about him being our translator is the fact that he doesn't speak English, but anytime we didn't understand someone else he would say it again easier for us to understand. Lacie, Chantelle and I make a pretty good team though when it comes to our Spanish speaking, finishing each other's sentences or switching off who actually understood what's going on.
First culture shock, their driving. Most roads that are two lanes become four, and three lanes five or six. Horns are honked at all times to alert other drivers that they are simply driving there. Stop signs are optional, left turns are made in front of on coming traffic in hopes they stop, three inches left between cars is too much, and love taps are apart of everyday driving.
Second culture shock, I am tall! Peruvians are extremely short! My roommate Lacie is five feet tall and she's taller than a lot of Peruvian women. At the "DMV" like place where we got our Peruvian ID cards, the lady asked how tall I was in meters because she doesn't see women my height very often and had no idea how to guess how tall that would make me.
During our week in Lima, we spent time our time exploring, walking around downtown Lima, eating out, napping in Plazas and Parques, trying new foods, and observing Peruvian culture. Dinners were spent at the Augustinian House of Hospitality, (where we were staying) talking with Joel, Albert, Cesar, Martin, and different Augustinian Friars on their way passing through. These dinners were really good for our Spanish and our abs for the three of us laugh a lot, especially when the Peruvians are making fun of us, which is often!
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