Viviendo en el presente

Just doesn't do it justice

So, not sure if you heard, but I moved here, I moved to Peru. I'm not here for a week service trip to get this awesome spiritual, do good, save the world high...I'm here to live with the people of Chulucanas. I'm here to experience how the third world lives, here to live their everyday struggles, face my own struggles, and learn more everyday. Because of this, I have good days and I have bad days. I have strong feelings of frustrating and belly aching fits of laughter. We have concern for our safety and amazing friends that are protective, welcoming and generous. The school system drives me nuts, in the fact that my students will have learned hardly anything by the time this year is over, but my students constantly make me smile.

Everyday is a new adventure full of awkward, funny, and sometimes surprisingly deep conversations. Every chance I get to look out at the landscape is a blessing. Never have a seen such open lushious green land leading up to beautiful big pointy blue mountains that look so close you can touch them. Never have I been stopped in the street by a stranger wanting to thank me for being there. Nor have I met someone that 10 minutes later is inviting me over to their house to feed me, or wanting to take me to see their favorite place in the Chulucanas area. Chulucanians are so proud of their city, their culture, and of course their food, so much so they can't wait to share anything they have with us. But, yet never have I felt so much like I am constantly in need of a shower, my stomach is constantly in a state of discomfort, bugs are constantly crawling on me not to mention biting me, and I'm still constantly sweating. I joke by the time I get back literally nothing will phase me, I'll think all things are just well, normal! Last night, for example, we were coming back from a city 20 minutes away on moto with two new friends when we broke down. It was so dark you could literally see nothing but billions of stars, with not a person in sight, we didn't feel scared but yet, just kind of, un phased, naturally this would happen, we're in Peru.

The mural is made of dyed wood chips made only for the evening procession

Anyway, Holy Week was spent much differently this year. We didn't have work or school Thursday or Friday because they are days meant to be spent with family, at church, in community, and/or traveling. Never have I gone to more hours of church in 5 days, especially where I only understand about 50% of what is being said. The most significant mass was Friday morning's Stations of the Cross. Beginning at 5 am, was a three hour procession through the streets while fifty 15 to 17 year old parish kids acted out the stations. By the end of the procession probably close to 5,000 people were walking with us as they physically wipped the boy playing Jesus and hung him on a cross bleeding for all the crowd to see.

Fabiana and I riding on the back of the moto

Catacoas llama, carnival and beautiful cathedral.

After the procession our friend Italo accompained us to a small city, Catacoas, for their Semana Santa activities. It was pretty much a giant street carvinal with millions of people and tons of good food!

Trip to the water falls with new friends