Roadtripping

Posted on July 1, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Peru, Scenery, Travel

My eyes are screwed shut, my earbuds are playing happy tunes and I am trying to pretend that the jolting motion of the van is the cottage raft swaying gently on the waves. Welcome to a Peruvian Road trip.

Loading the Van

We are trying to make the most of our time in Peru and decided to take advantage of the 4-day Corpus Christi holiday with a trip to Kuelap and Gocta Falls. Kuelap is an ancient stone complex, the largest in South America, that pre-dates Machu Picchu and is perched 3,000 meters above sea level on ridge overlooking the Utcubamba Valley. Peru is attempting to make Kuelap the next Machu Picchu of tourist destinations and as we live relatively close to it, we decided it was worth the trip. Near Kuelap is Gocta Falls, which by some accounts is the 3rd highest waterfall in the world (apparently there is some controversy over how to measure the heights of waterfalls). So together with fellow Americans Mistina, Teresa, Kevin and Kristen, our Spanish friend Miguel and our Peruvian driver Adderly, we set off early on Thursday morning for the anticipated 10 hour drive through the Andes Mountains.

Those of you who know me know that I DESPISE car rides. I barely tolerate the 5-hour drive to Northern Wisconsin from Milwaukee and have sent Matt off with his friend Pete on road trip adventures. Peruvian roads are notoriously dangerous and before we arrived here, every week Matt would read some story of a bus or van plummeting off a cliff. It quickly became evident why.

We went on that?!

Good Road

Mountain Pass

Beautiful Views

How Green is My Valley

Winding Roads

The first hour of the trip was pretty good, the views were gorgeous and I was beginning to be lulled into thinking my life wasn’t in danger. Then we hit road construction and were told we had to return to Cajamarca and take the long way, which would add 4 hours onto our trip. Miguel sprung into action, collected our ID cards and somehow managed to convince the road crew to let us through because we were American tourists. Shockingly, we didn’t even have to grease any palms to make that happen. But we did get stuck behind machinery and had a very slow drive to Celendín.

Watering the Road

Road Construction

Celendin – Home of the Big Sombrero

Three hours into our trip, we took a short, necessary break.

Potty Break

After Celendín the roads narrowed and lost all pretense of handling two-way traffic. Thankfully Adderly is young and has his whole life ahead of him so he was a very cautious driver. It also helped that he had excellent reflexes and apparently a strong thumb as he had to toot the horn on every curve to make sure we didn’t get run off the road.

Plenty O’ Room

Passing

In addition to the traffic there were also animal impediments.

Moo

Baa

Chasing the Cows

Hee Haw

The roads got worse and worse and every time I opened my eyes it appeared we were plummeting off a cliff. We finally took a late lunch break in Leymebamba. It apparently has a wonderful museum, but we still had 3 hours to go until we arrived at Gocta Lodge so we had to pass on the museum.

Every road you see we traveled

Leymebamba museum

Switchbacks

Relaxing over a Late Lunch

The roads between Leymebamba and Gocta Falls were actually not terrible and toward the end we were on a decent one along the river. And by decent I mean that it was paved, slightly wider and had signs warning us of falling rocks.

Twelve hours after leaving our house, we arrived at Gocta Lodge in the dark (sunset in Peru is around 6:30) and after settling in we broke open the wine and snacks for a well-deserved happy hour. The next morning, we awoke to these beautiful views.

Gocta Lodge

Alpaca and Mountains

Grazing

Pool and Falls

Sunrise over the Mountains

Peaceful

Gocta Falls

Little did we know that our relaxation would be short lived as we had the most harrowing drive of all ahead of us!

Next up: Kuelap.

A Trip to the Doctor

Posted on June 12, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Cajamarca, Peru

It’s 7:00 am and I am hitting redial on my phone as though the local radio station is giving away $1,000,000. I wish – instead I am trying to get a follow-up appointment with my doctor. Added to the list of things that are just different in Cajamarca, is healthcare. Not necessarily worse in all respects, just different.

My situation started last week when I decided it was time to see a GI doctor for my on-going stomach issues. I got a name from a friend and toyed with having Matt’s school nurse make the appointment for me, but I decided to be a grownup and do it myself despite my anxiety over talking in Spanish on the phone. I called last Monday around 9 am and was told that the doctor’s appointments were full for the day. Fine, could I please make an appointment for another day that week? After asking for the response to be repeated several times, I thought I was being told that appointments could only be made for the day one is calling. When I asked when I should call, I was told “earlier.” As this seemed bizarre and inefficient to me, I assumed I was misunderstanding and asked Matt to have his nurse make the appointment for me. He came home and said she would be calling the next day. Apparently, my Spanish was dead on and you have to call on the day you want the appointment. The nurse did so and my appointment was for 8 pm on Tuesday.

We had been to the doctor once before (the nurse made the appointments and those were in advance, go figure), so we knew that we needed to get to the clinic early to pay and check in. In this respect, the Peruvian system is better, at least with our school-provided insurance. You pay upfront for everything, so there are no surprise medical bills 3 months later. My co-pay for the specialist visit was $12.50, and this amount includes the follow up visits as well. I pointed out to the clerk that I was a woman – my form listed me as a man – and she told me it was the insurance company that incorrectly coded me and pointed to their office and told me to talk to them but not to worry about it for the appointment. The insurance clerk was busy, so we stepped aside and waited with everyone else.

We soon noticed that a nurse was coming out of a door and calling a few patients at a time. They would step inside for a few minutes and then go down the hall and wait by various other doors or go to another floor. We deduced that she was likely taking the basic information: temperature, blood pressure etc. Miraculously my name was called after only a few minutes. But when I stepped up, the nurse looked startled, asked me if I was a woman and, when I confirmed that was the indeed case, told me to wait a little bit. A little bit stretched into 20 minutes and my anxiety rose. One of our friends waited for her doctor appointment for an hour the prior week only to be told that the doctor had gone home because she was his only appointment. I didn’t want to have that happen to me although the place was teeming with patients.

By now we had figured out that I missed my first chance because the nurse was calling men back into the room. So the next time she came out and called for another woman, who arrived long after I did, I stepped up and said that I had been waiting. The nurse was very apologetic and I went in with the other lady. We were seated next to each other and all of our vitals were taken (is it bad that I was happy that I was taller and weighed less?). After living and breathing HIPAA, this was a very odd experience! The nurse then walked me to the doctor’s office, but it was empty and she placed my file in the middle of a stack of files and told me to wait in the hallway. At this point, we were standing in a narrow hallway with a bunch of other people. Thankfully, many of them had infants and we surmised that they were all waiting for the pediatrician, not my doctor. Once the doctor arrived, things moved pretty quickly. The first guy went in for a little while, came out, and called the name of the next in line – again, no HIPAA concerns here. It also became apparent that all appointments were made for 8:00 pm and you wait your turn (designated when you made your appointment) beginning at 8:00.

TMI Cheat Sheet -Welcome to Life in Peru

My turn came and I met with Dr. Albán who shook my hand, chatted with me about my symptoms and prodded my abdomen a bit. He ordered some labs, gave me a prescription, shook my hand and sent me on my way. Later I realized that there were no gloves, no sink in the exam room, no Purell, no paper on the table… no sanitary measures whatsoever! And he only poked my tummy – where did he poke the guy prior to me? I shudder to think…

We had to go back to the check-in line to pay for both the medication ($1.80) and lab work ($4.50) and then take the receipts and paperwork to the pharmacy and lab, respectively, to get what I needed. Again, no health care cost surprise down the road.

Pros: Kind workers, upfront costs, no fake HIPAA privacy (come on, if you are all sitting in the waiting room, you are seeing each other, right?).

Cons: Inefficiency in appointment making and waiting times (although overall the waiting was not really worse than in US and maybe it is better to wait in a hallway with your clothes on than in the inevitably freezing waiting room in a paper gown).

Disgusting factor: Lack of sanitation. I noticed on the follow up visit that the bathrooms have no toilet seats, were filthy, have no hot water and no towel/dryer for one’s hands. UGH. It is no wonder that I have stomach issues here!

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Posted on May 30, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Peru

I fired my first employee a month ago. The irony is that I spent almost 19 years as an employment attorney and in that time advised countless employers on how to properly terminate literally hundreds of employees. I gave seminars and wrote articles on the subject. But I had never fired anyone, a fact I admitted when giving advice to my clients. And I gave good advice; my problem was that I didn’t follow it with respect to Olga.

Rule #1 – Hire Well. Olga wasn’t our first choice of housekeeper, called an “empleada” (employee) or “chica” here although I never referred to her as “chica” as I find it utterly disrespectful to call a grown woman “girl.” When we visited the school before moving here we had secured our housing and, we thought, a wonderful empleada, Esther. But as our now-friend Sarah was moving here with 2 year old twins, Matt’s boss decreed that Esther, who is great with kids, would work for Sarah. So we were out of luck. Matt’s coworker, Robert, offered to have Olga work for us – his wife and daughter had moved to the US and he was planning to leave Peru in December, so he didn’t need her anymore. Robert said Olga was honest, reliable and quiet. As we had no idea how to find someone suitable, and I was tired of cleaning our house after 2 weeks (hey, it’s dusty here!), we went the easy route and arranged to meet Olga.

The meeting didn’t go well. We had a horrible time trying to communicate, but attributed that to our Spanish deficiency. But we agreed to hire her because it was the path of least resistance – even though everyone from the maintenance workers at Matt’s schools to cab drivers to Esther herself had a wife, friend, cousin, who needed a job, it was too daunting to think about having the awkward interview again. But from day one I bemoaned that Olga was no Esther.

Rule #2 – Set Clear Expectations. Obviously, housekeepers are not the norm in the US, so I had no experience with having someone in my home 5 days a week. Yes, you are rolling your eyes and cursing me under your breath right now, but realize that in Peru it is the culture to hire people if you are middle class (and they usually work a half day on Saturday for you too). Even Matt’s teachers who complain to me about money and have to work extra jobs all have empleadas. Normally, an empleada does EVERYTHING for you – shops, cooks, cleans, does laundry, deals with service providers, pays bills, watches the kids, etc. Olga told us she didn’t cook, and I didn’t realize the full job of an empleada, so when she began she cleaned and did laundry. Matt and I joked that she had the best deal in town as with only two of us in the house, half the house is basically unused and our laundry minimal.

After about 6 weeks I went home for Angela and Craig’s wedding and their Colombian friend Jorge asked me how things were going in South America. I confessed that I was having a hard time with Olga – she cleaned okay, but she was obsessed with laundry – she would spend hours every day washing our clothes and we have a washer and dryer! Jorge tried to explain the culture of help and assured me that Olga wanted more to do and that I had to be firm about asking. He even made me practice some phrases. And he told me to fire her if I didn’t like her.

I returned to Peru confident that I could improve the relationship and feel less awkward in my own home. Because that was a big part of the issue – I was tiptoeing around Olga, who would take over 2 hours just to wash some dinner dishes from the prior night. Meanwhile I would be starving, waiting for her to get out of the kitchen so I could eat my breakfast. So I tried Jorge’s suggestions. I asked her to do laundry less often, to pay the one utility bill that can’t be paid on-line, to clean the dining room when I was having guests for lunch, to buy the cleaning supplies when she told me she was out of them … and had mixed success. She would never shop for me (except when I was terribly ill because I think she knew she had to as Matt was at work) and would never do something when I asked – usually a few hours or days later – and she continued the incessant laundry. But she wasn’t a bad person and as I didn’t want to clean my own house and had plenty of time to shop and clean, I just complained instead of taking direct action.

Rule #3 – Don’t Ignore a Problem. As our Spanish improved, it became clear that while we were (and are) by no means fluent, we were generally understandable to other Peruvians. But not to Olga. Eventually we realized that she seemed to have a hard time communicating with other Peruvians too, not just us. She would look at the speaker and silently form words before responding. Needless to say, I was not learning any Spanish from her and our communication didn’t improve. In fact, I would clean things myself instead of asking her because it wasn’t worth my effort.

Rule #4 – Terminate Don’t Procrastinate. This is the most important rule of all and I sure broke it. For years I counseled clients to swiftly terminate when warranted because who knows what might happen in the interim between the decision and the act. I had decided to fire Olga – her performance had deteriorated. She was spending endless hours in our house but doing little more than basic cleaning and laundry, she told us late one Friday night that she would be absent the following Monday and Tuesday due to a doctor appointment in Lima and I had been home all day but she hadn’t mentioned it (and honestly, we would have likely offered to pay her airfare so she could have avoided the 18 hour bus ride each way), she brought a stranger to the house to help her one day because she was leaving early and only told me her plans because I saw the woman and asked who she was… I was ticked. I had inquired about her doctor visit, not sure how much was appropriate to ask, and she gave me some vague answer about a problem with her spine and her stomach and assured me she could work. But I had finally had enough and an American friend who was returning to the US wanted me to hire her empleada, Maria. I had met Maria and loved her – another Esther, warm, friendly and could more or less understand me! The problem was that I couldn’t hire Maria for another few weeks and we were going on vacation and didn’t want the house vacant, so I wanted to keep Olga for just another month.

And then it got worse. Several times I saw her on the street when she was supposed to be working and once she left a workman in my house unattended. She always looked guilty when I saw her and would say she was getting lunch or that she had a bill she had to pay that day. I joked to Matt that I thought she had a boyfriend she was visiting. Finally, one morning I returned to the house unexpectedly and caught her leaving the house. When I asked where she was going she told me she was getting a friend to come help her. I asked why she would need help and she made a lame excuse about not reaching the high windows (mind you, she had never cleaned the windows before). I told her no, which shocked her as I had never said no to anything, and laid into her about leaving the workman unattended and where she was going all the time. She got very defensive and again said lunch. I would have fired her on the spot, but I didn’t have the cash to pay her and Matt had the ATM card. But I resolved to do so as soon as possible.

Rule #5 – Be Prepared for the Termination Meeting. This was the one rule I didn’t break. Once I knew I was firing Olga, the attorney in me sprung into action and I got everything lined up. I was paying Olga severance and had been told to have her sign a document saying we had paid her all of her wages in addition to the severance, so I had one of Matt’s teachers write the document for me. Sarah agreed that we could hire Esther to watch our house while we were all on vacation and talked to Esther who was willing to do so. On the way home Matt and I stopped for cash and I told him that if Olga was there I was firing her that night.

She was and Matt made an immediate beeline upstairs, where he would spend the next 1 1/2 hours while I did the deed. I sat Olga down and told her that it was her last day. She was shocked and asked why and I told her that we didn’t communicate well, that her performance had been slipping and that she didn’t seem interested in working lately. She started silently crying and I felt absolutely awful but stuck to my guns despite her pleas that she would improve. And then she played her trump card and said “blah, blah, blah, blah, blah,” or at least that is what I understood, with a very expectant look on her face. I responded that I didn’t understand and then she said the words every employer dreads to here “Estoy embarazada” – I’m pregnant. Crap. I understood that one and asked her why she hadn’t told me. She gave a vague excuse and then added that she wasn’t working hard because she was in danger of miscarriage and that she was also going to doctor appointments when she left my house. Double crap. My mind was racing – in the US I could still fire her as I made the decision before I knew she was pregnant but I don’t know squat about Peruvian employment law. I then said the stupidest thing ever, something like “well maybe it will be better if you aren’t doing this kind of work then.” Thankfully, I doubt she understood me. I stuck with the plan and fired her anyhow. She asked if she could return the next day to get her things and I said no as I knew she would show up with an ultrasound or something and then I would feel like an even bigger jerk. So she got her things together and then we awkwardly waited 30 minutes for the cab I was sending her home in to arrive. UGH.

I lived in fear for the following week that someone would show up at my door and beat me up or worse, tell me that Olga had a miscarriage, but it has been over a month now and these things have not occurred (knock on wood). Even better, Maria began working for us a few weeks ago and is amazing. She works only 4 days a week and much shorter hours than Olga and does everything I ask her – including shopping and some cooking – and is excited to share her Peruvian recipes with me. We chat every day and sometimes even eat a meal together. It is wonderful not to feel uncomfortable in my own home and to be able to enjoy this big perk of my new life.

An Expensive Loss

Posted on April 23, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Peru

I lost my Carné de Extranjería, or Peruvian residency card, yesterday so now have to go through the process of getting a replacement card. To add to the pressure, Matt and I leave for Chile and Argentina next week, so I am anxious to get it replaced before our trip in order to avoid any problems at immigration when I try to leave or re-enter Peru. And you thought going to the DMV for a new license was bad!

To back up, getting the carné was a chore. To be fair, I suspect it is probably no easier for a foreigner to get a US visa. After filling out the paperwork, which thankfully Matt’s school’s attorney handled, I had to go to Lima to the Interpol office where I was fingerprinted, photographed and had my teeth inspected. Maria Katia, the school’s immigration attorney, guided me through the process and knew all the tricks and shortcuts, but it still was a few hours of lines and waiting. A few weeks later, on St. Paddy’s Day, I was summoned back to Lima to get the card. This process again involved several lines and a lot of waiting, but I left with the card in hand. Imagine my surprise when the clerk determined that I was a green eyed blond instead of a brown eyed brunette!

Yesterday, I went to run an errand in Cajamarca and specifically put my carné in my back pocket because I felt it was safer there as opposed to in my backpack. Wrong. Somehow, it was either picked (not likely) or fell out. After my errand, I caught a cab from the center of Cajamarca to the outskirts of Baños to get some exercise with a nice 3 1/2 mile walk home. So when I arrived at home and realized my loss, I walked the route two more times hopeful I would find my carné. I even mustered up my courage to ask two sidewalk sweepers if they found it and stopped at the police station to ask if anyone had turned it in. Apparently, it is not the culture to turn in a lost id (or anything, I guess) to the station. So they didn’t even understand what I was asking or why I would ask them.

After sending up prayers to St. Anthony and optimistically thinking that someone would show up at my door with my carné (no, it doesn’t actually contain my address) today I began the process of getting a replacement. Thankfully, Matt’s school is assisting me with this process. First, Julianna had to go to the National Bank to pay a $2.70 fee to allow us to go to the police station to file a report. Julianna and I then went to the police station with the receipt from the bank and relayed my tale of woe to the officer in charge. A young female officer got out a notebook and hand wrote the details of the loss in the book as the officer asked me questions (including whether I was married. That is always important on any document here and, in fact, Matt’s carné initially was held up because someone had marked that he was not married). She switched between black and red ink; I never did figure out the rhyme or reason. At the same time, about 6 other male officers were in the office watching a soccer match. I signed the report and placed my fingerprint on it, another must in Peru as official documents always are signed and then your fingerprint added.

After an hour, I returned to pick up a copy of the official, typed report, signing and placing my fingerprint on the station’s original report. Actually, I found that part quite efficient; I don’t think you can get a police report in an hour in the US.

Police report

The school will send my copy to Maria Katia who will prepare the needed paperwork and secure an appointment for me in Lima with immigration. One of the big advantages to having Peruvian residency is that we get a huge discount to fly nationally. Unfortunately, because my card is lost and I can’t present it at the airport (even though my passport notes that I have residency status and I will have the police report) I can’t fly as a resident on this trip to Lima. So instead of a $100 flight I will have a $300 flight, which actually is a bit of a bargain over the normal price for some reason. I am sure that there will be more endless waiting and long lines and several additional expenses, but I will be happy when my carné is back in hand!

So send your good vibes and prayers my way so that this process works as it is supposed to and that I have my replacement carné early next week!

Computer Meltdown

Posted on March 26, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Peru

The old Kerry was back. With a vengeance. After months of going with the South American flow of a relaxed pace and inefficiency, I was done.

I sprinted across the street, yelling at the Movistar service technician who was doing his best to ignore me while he dialed his phone.

“Excuse me, when are you coming to my house to fix my internet?” I demanded.

He waved a paper, nervously refusing to look at me. “I’m at this house. I’m not the tech for your house.”

“But you were at my house on Saturday. And you left. And I still don’t have internet!”

“Another tech…” he tried to turn his back to me but I stuck with him.

“Who? When?”

“I don’t know. But not me.”

“But it was you. You were at my house. And you didn’t fix anything and now no one has come for 3 days.”

“Ahh. Matthews, right?” He was trying to placate me and I knew it.

“Yes. There.” I pointed to our house.

“Okay, I’ll tell them.” His eyes darted about, refusing to look at me. I interpreted that as a fear of being caught. I was convinced this guy had deleted our job request for the past 3 days because he didn’t know how to solve our internet problem or didn’t want to deal with it. Matt later said the guy was probably afraid that I was going to drag him across the street to our house. At 5’3”, I’m bigger than he and had rage on my side, so that might have been it.

I stalked back across the street while glaring at the guy on the corner who had watched this entire exchange. Slammed the doors to my house. ARGGG. Why is it so hard to get things done here? Why can’t I speak better Spanish so I don’t sound like a 5 year old? Olga, our housekeeper, tiptoed around me. She had never seen me angry, much less livid, these past eight months. And I have never seen a Peruvian mad; they go into begging mode when they want something. Not this American. I wasn’t about to beg someone who was screwing me over. But I am no fool. I had tried the begging: I had sent Olga out to talk to the tech when I first saw him across the street because I thought the begging might work. It didn’t. Of course, my in-your-face aggression didn’t either.

I explained to Olga what happened and why I didn’t believe that he wasn’t suppose to be at our house.

“Well, he did have an order for the other house…” she ventured.

“Did you see it?” The lawyer in me was out in full force.

“No, but I said Matthews to him…”

“Hrmph. But he was here on Saturday and left and no one has come since.”

“The same guy? Here? Oh.” She retreated.

I had a new plan: when he was done with the other job, I would waylay him again and demand that he call his tech office immediately to find out when someone was coming to my house. I looked out the window. Damn, his car was gone. He had snuck away.

The saga began when an electrical storm knocked out our phone, internet, and computer on Friday. The worst part was that about 30 seconds before it happened it occurred to me that I should shut down the computer. But I didn’t. There was a pop on the screen and then no phone, no internet, no computer. The storm was intense and lasted a couple of hours, so I didn’t really expect service to return quickly and I was ignoring the fact that the computer wouldn’t turn on. By the next morning, it was clear that we needed service, but a review of all the paperwork from our provider, Movistar, and its on-line site (via my cell phone, which thankfully has a data plan) revealed that the only way to call for service was from a Movistar phone. Ours didn’t work; that was part of the problem. So we walked to our friend’s house and her housekeeper called Movistar for us and explained the problem. A tech would come within 24 hours.

And he did come, later that afternoon. We explained the problem and showed him that the phone and modem both didn’t work. We also explained that the modem wouldn’t power up at all – clearly it was fried, not that we know that idiomatic expression in Spanish, but he seemed to understand. He checked a few things, confirmed nothing worked and then said he needed to check the lines but had to wait as a strong storm had kicked up. He waited, we waited, and then, next thing we knew, he was gone without a word and nothing was fixed. We hung around the rest of the day, optimistic that he would return. Wrong.

On Sunday Matt returned to our friend’s house and called Movistar while I hopefully waited at home. This time, Matt couldn’t get out of the automatic system because there was already a service code associated with our phone number and the recording said a tech would be out within 24 hours. So we waited around the house all day and no one came.

On Monday, Matt had a coworker call as the 24 hours was up to 48 hours and still no resolution or return visit. This time, we received a new service code and his coworker told him they had another 24 hours to send a tech. What? They already had 48 hours and no one had fixed the problem, but apparently that is the way it works here. So I again was homebound, waiting for the tech who never arrived. At some point our phone came back on and later there was an automated call from Movistar. I didn’t quite understand all of it, but thought I hit the right number that indicated we still had a problem as the internet was not going to work until we got a new modem.

On Tuesday, Matt had a coworker call another time as 24 hours had elapsed yet again. Same routine: new code, 24 hours. I was ballistic by this point. How can Movistar buy itself another 24 hours just by giving us a new code? I felt chained to the house as I was not going to miss the tech visit and had instructed Olga to be on high alert for anyone at the door. On Monday I ran to the door or window about every 2 minutes as I was fearful of missing the tech guy when he arrived. I was doing the same thing on Tuesday, which is how I saw the tech across the street and accosted him. After that incident and still no tech, I insisted that Matt go to Movistar after work and explain in person what was happening and what we needed. He did and was assured someone would come the next day (today) and that the tech would call first. Matt also asked whether the tech would come with a modem in his car and the woman laughed and said yes.

The first thing I did today was to instruct Olga that her most important job of the day was to answer the phone (I was worried that it would be a recording and I don’t understand those well) so that we didn’t miss the tech’s visit. Yep, she missed the call. I was furious and, while I didn’t yell at her, I did go yell in the other room. After I calmed down, I asked her to call Movistar (as our phone now worked we could call from home) and find out if a tech was coming. After about 20 minutes she came and told me that Movistar had no record of any problem with our line, but that she had a code and a tech would come in 24 hours. WTF??? By this time, I was ranting in Spanish the best I could (though I really need to learn to say WTF) and asked Olga how that made any sense when the tech was here, on Saturday, when we have called every day for the past 4 days and when Matt actually went to Movistar yesterday. She seemed puzzled by these questions and seemed to find it perfectly reasonable that we would wait another 24 hours now that we had a code. What?? I had had enough of this senseless conversation when there was a knock at the door.

Yes, it was the same tech- from Saturday, from yesterday- at the door. I went to the computer room when he arrived and politely explained, though I really wanted to wring his neck, that the modem didn’t work and we didn’t have internet. He looked at it and conceded that was the case, but said he didn’t have a modem because he was there to service our …phone. What??? I told him that he knew the internet and modem didn’t work since he came on Saturday (I thought it prudent to ignore our conversation of the prior afternoon). He responded that he was here for the service call from 11 am yesterday that said there was a problem with the phone so that is what he came to fix. (*@!^$&(^$ But, he assured me, he would come back in a half hour with a modem because he knew we had been waiting for it. It is now 3 1/2 hours. I am still waiting.

This whole exchange proves that you can take the girl out of America, but you can’t take America out of the girl. I am still trying to figure out what part of this bothers me the most: the lack of internet, which I depend on for my amusement while I am home alone all day; my loss of independence as I feel chained to the house (despite sneaking out to use my friend’s internet at the moment); or the sheer inefficiency, which my Type A personality can pretend to handle most of the time but really can’t.

Update: The (same) tech showed up, a mere 6 1/2 hours late. But he had a modem and we are connected again. Yippee! Next step: finding out if our iMac can be salvaged. Fingers crossed…

Happy St. Paddy’s Day – Better Late Than Never!

Posted on March 18, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Celebrations, Peru

Yesterday I was in Lima obtaining my Peruvian residency card. It was a typical bureaucratic experience with two items of note: the Peruvians determined that I am a green-eyed blond (and here I thought I was a brown-eyed brunette for the past 45 years) and my residency stamp is on the visa page with a JFK quote, which seemed fitting for St. Patrick’s Day. I did not have the luck o’ the Irish when our plane from Lima arrived over Cajamarca, circled a few times, and then flew back to Lima as the pilot determined the weather didn’t permit him to land. Or maybe not landing was the lucky part! In any event, for that reason this post is a day late.

Although the month of Carnival festivities had worn us out, we decided to throw a St. Patrick’s Day party last Saturday for our expat and Peruvian friends. The Peruvians were quite interested to know what a St. Paddy’s Day party entailed, and we were at a bit of a loss – uh, drinking and wearing green? But we stepped it up and made corned beef (from scratch, no handy pre-brined meat here), potato salad (okay, not entirely Irish, but the potatoes count), oatmeal cookies, and Irish cream brownies (courtesy of our friend Sarah), greeted everyone at the door with a shot of Baileys or Jameson and had the Irish tunes playing. Matt boss, Peter, contributed some Pogues and other contemporary Celtic tunes that complemented our Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem collection quite nicely.

Corned Beef

Decorations

Tin Whistle

Slainte!

Cheers!

Upia Kushun (cheers in Quechuan)

It was pretty cool to have 5 countries represented : USA, Canada, Peru, Colombia and Mexico and everyone enjoying a typical American St. Patrick’s Day party. But the Peruvians like to sing and dance. While I was tempted to teach them all Weela, Wallia, I was concerned that this group of educators might not see the justice in the song but instead wonder why I was singing a song about killing a baby. (My kindergarden teacher wondered the same thing and called my parents for an explanation. True story.) We put on some YouTube videos teaching Irish dance, but as all I know about Irish dance is that you have to keep your arms down and shoulders straight, that was short lived. We gave the Electric Slide and Boot Scootin’ Boogie a shot (thank you, Mistina and Sarah), but in the end, Latin music prevailed. One of the teachers noted, “you Americans dance with your legs, not your hips” and I think she understood why learning to salsa is not natural for us! The party went until the wee hours and a good time was had by all.

St. Patrick’s Party

Latin Dance Prevailed

Bellying Up to the Bar

Attempting Irish Dance

Camaraderie

Hamming it Up

Sweet Treats

Clean Up

Ding, Dong the Ño is Dead – Cajamarca Carnival Part 1

Posted on March 6, 2014 by kdwyer27 under Cajamarca, Celebrations, Peru

Cajamarquinos know how to party! Cajamarca is the Carnival Capital of Peru and the official Cajamarca “Programa Carnaval” has events beginning on January 23 and ending on March 9. To the uninitiated (us) it was a little hard to figure out what is Carnival related and why, but here are the main events that we experienced.

Water, Water everywhere. This phenomenon actually began before January 23 when my friend Mistina and I were on a walk and got sprayed with water from a passing vehicle. She bore the brunt of the attack and looked at her soggy clothes with a shocked expression . “What was that? Is this water?” We decided to assume the best, that it was water, but were confused by the experience. We had never encountered any anti-American animus but wondered whether something had happened while we were on Christmas break that would lead to random, anonymous aggression. A couple days later I was walking my usual bike path route when WHOOSH! A bucket of water was thrown at me. Thankfully, the aim was off so I was merely splashed with the aftereffects. I turned and yelled at the passing vehicle (maybe even made a nasty gesture, it was instinct, I swear) and the guys in the truck bed were busting a gut. Matt did some investigation at work and learned that water antics are a part of Carnival and start sometime in January. So attacks with water balloons, super soakers, buckets and hoses are all in good fun, condoned and to be expected. Despite this, we didn’t have too many other experiences with random acts of water until the parades this past weekend. Matt inadvertently stumbled into a water fight in our neighborhood last week, but as some of the participants were his students they respectfully gave him a pass. The same thing happened this weekend as we were walking from one of the parades.

Armed

Ready to Launch

Packing

Need Protection?

Water Protection

Ño Carnavalón. This guy shows up everywhere and can best be described as the Life of the Party (or, in this case, Carnival). For awhile I understood him to be a demon but I am not sure that is the case although he was dressed like a devil when he got married to the Doña Carnavalón in Baños a couple of weekends ago and he generally looks pretty scary. Saturday’s parade was the Ingreso de Ño Carnavalón (Arrival of the Carnival Ño), the event that really gets the party started. Sunday and Monday’s parades featured the Ño (or various versions of him), last night was his wake (yep, he died. Probably from too much partying) and today was his cremation in Baños. RIP until next year Ño Carnivalón, and maybe we can finally get a full night’s sleep! Last night the music started in Baños at 11:30 pm and this morning on Matt’s 5:30 am walk to work he passed three guys, one holding up his friend, who was holding a beer, and the third playing a snare drum. The party never stops!

The Ño and Doña Arrive

Doña and Ño

Ño cremation

The Paint Parade. “Stay home,” we were warned, “It’s dirty. People are out of control.” Saturday’s parade, while technically called the Ingreso de Ño Carnavalón, is locally known as the paint parade. Apart from the truck carrying Ño and Doña, the rest of the parade is comprised of gangs of people, who sing, dance, drink and throw paint at everyone and everything. People, cars, houses, the police – nothing is sacred. We were invited to our friend Maribel’s house, which is conveniently located on the parade route, for breakfast and to enjoy the parade. And by “enjoy” I mean lob water balloons and, when those ran out, buckets of water at the parade participants from the roof of her building!

Attack

A Clean Start

Filling Balloons

Ready

Getting Ready

Kiera Can’t Wait

Not that we were safe. First, I will never engage in bomb making as I managed to soak myself (and Matt) by overfilling balloons. Kiera, Maribel’s niece, was worse and changed her clothes 2 times before we even began (of course, she is only 8). Then the neighbors decided to wage water war on us (and they were slightly higher up and had better throwing arms) and finally, this truck was in the parade to retaliate against roof watchers like us.

Retaliation

Waiting…

Ready on the Roofs

House BEFORE the parade – last year’s effects

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After the parade passed we had a nice, traditional lunch of fried trout, corn and rice and then decided to join the fray. I was a little nervous given all the warnings, but wasn’t going to be the party pooper. So 8 of us packed into a sedan cab (9 counting the driver) and buzzed off to the fun. And was it fun! Being conspicuously paint free, we were quickly accosted and painted. People literally surrounded us and slapped, threw, dabbed or dumped paint on us. And then they offered us shots! We were invited to tag along with one group and at every turn they would herd us along with them. It was hilarious – singing (the same endless tune with different verses, which Matt and I faked knowing as people urged us to sing), dancing, drinking (okay, I declined the shots for the most part as I think the bottles had as much paint as alcohol in them). Eventually we ran into some friends of Maribel’s and we ditched our first gang and joined our second one. We ended up in front of someone’s house and the carousing continued, including the homeowners bringing out chicha de jora, a traditional corn beer, cañazo, distilled sugar cane, and a pan of rice and sausage. Apparently these street parties are common as we saw many of them. Of course, now that we were part of the parade, we were doused with water, which was karmic payback, no doubt! After a couple of hours, the crowd was getting drunk, it started raining and we decided to call it a day on a high note. The paint parade got two thumbs up from Matt and me and was our favorite parade of Carnival. To get a complete feel for the event, check out Matt’s blog where he posted videos of the day. http://mattgeiger.blogspot.com/2014/03/carnivales-2014-day-one-videos.html

Maribel and Kerry

Chicha and Conversation

After

Packer Pride

Matt and Our New Friends

Clean Up

DIY – What Was I Thinking?

Posted on December 12, 2013 by kdwyer27 under Peru

As part of my mission to make our Peruvian house a home, a bedroom makeover was top of the list. Here is why.

Clash of the Colors

The duvet cover was ours, but the rest of the room was this hideous when we arrived (and the balcony doors had full-length, red and blue curtains too). I couldn’t stand waking up in such a horrible space and when I returned to Peru in September, I resolved to have it redecorated by Christmas. But I wasn’t sure how to start – when I was in the central market I would stop in curtain shops and look at fabrics but didn’t see anything I liked and wasn’t sure how to find more options. As luck would have it, a departing Peruvian teacher friend, Jocelyn, offered to sell me a gray curtain and sheers. Because I also needed a shade, Jocelyn graciously offered to take me to the central market to buy the fabric and have the shade made. And so it began…

One curtain replaced…

We went to the market and Jocelyn took me to a particular shop on a fabric street. One interesting thing about the central market (which after much confusion and discussion I determined is really just the main shopping district in Cajamarca) is that similar stores are clumped together – so the stores on one block all sell cookware, and the stores on another block all sell fabric, and on another block they all sell eyeglasses. It was odd to us as we initially expected there to be a variety of wares on a block, but apparently that isn’t how it is done here. It makes sense on the one hand because if you are looking for an item you can go to one street and look in all of the stores for it. But it’s a huge hassle when you don’t know where that one street is! So while I had found a street with curtain shops, they weren’t exactly the fabric shops I needed as those were on another street. Jocelyn was amazing in action – I had learned to barter with handicraft vendors and taxi drivers, but I had no idea that one could barter in a fabric store. But barter Jocelyn did and we left with 5 meters of the same fabric as her curtain for $36. Then we went to another shop around the corner where Jocelyn introduced me to Jhon who Jocelyn said would make my shade for a good price. John said he would have the Roman shade ready by Tuesday and would come to my house to install it, all for $24 – sold! The last time I bought a Roman shade in the US it was 1/3 the size and cost over 3 times as much.

My excitement was short lived when I realized that I needed to paint the room before the shade was installed and I had 4 days to do it. Matt wisely wanted no part of this project and urged me to hire someone to paint the room. But we were booked most of the weekend, so we wouldn’t be home to let someone in the house and supervise him. Matt then suggested I move the delivery date of the shade to give me more time to hire someone. But I was too excited to get the room renovated so I stubbornly forged ahead.

I went to buy the paint on Friday morning. First stop was the hardware store around the corner from our house that has a large sign out front advertising paint. After some confusion, despite the word for paint being “pintura” they say “latex” here, I was informed they had two colors: white and beige. On to the next store down the block. There the clerk gave me paint brochures and I picked out an okay color only to be told that they had two colors: green and white. What the heck? Wouldn’t it make sense to tell that to me before showing me the brochure and discussing the color I wanted? At that point I gave up on buying from the mom and pop shops and caught a cab to the “big box” hardware store. I quickly found a color I liked and the guy started mixing it – by hand with a 2×4! It took about a half hour. When I asked about a stir stick to mix the white paint I was also buying, he had no idea what I was talking about, which should have been obvious to me as he was using a 2×4 to mix the paint. I rooted around my backyard and found a 1×1 stick that I used. Matt and I got a good laugh about how quaint this process was until I actually went to use the paint. Obviously, that 2X4 had been frequently used as my paint had old dried paint pieces throughout it. It was awful – with every paint stroke I had to pick off the paint chips. It definitely made me regret doing my own painting. Of course, if something like that had happened in the US, I would have returned the paint, but 1) something like that wouldn’t happen in the US and 2) I didn’t see managing that conversation in Spanish. Despite the setbacks and the need for 2 base coats, I managed to have the room painted by Tuesday.

Taping

First Coat

An hour before Jhon was scheduled to arrive, he called and asked if he could come on Wednesday. About an hour after the appointed time on Wednesday, I called Jhon and he assured me he would be there in 20 minutes. Over an hour later he arrived and installed the shade. It looked great, but by then I had realized that I needed a new curtain rod for the curtain that had started this project, so Jhon, Matt and I discussed what we needed and Jhon said he would be back on Friday with a new curtain rod. A no-show on Friday, Jhon said he would be over on Saturday afternoon. Saturday morning I happened upon his shop while I was in the market, so I stopped in to see if he was coming over later. He showed me the rod and then asked if I wanted the supports for it. You think? So that delayed the project until Tuesday. You guessed it, Tuesday came and went and another call to Jhon confirmed that he would come on Wednesday. Delays are the norm here, so it honestly didn’t bother me much when Jhon didn’t come when he said he would. But then he did arrive and this is what he brought.

What the heck?

Mismatched

He seemed genuinely confused that I would want the curtain rod and supports to match. He also neglected to put the knob on the end of the rod, but by this point I was so sick of waiting that I had Jhon install it and planned to deal with it later. About a week later, we ordered a rug for the room from a department store, so that gave me the incentive to pull out the paint and finish the job. The date for the rug delivery came and went and when we called we learned that our order was canceled. Matt went to the store and then was told that the rug wasn’t available in Peru! So I am considering the room done for now, even though we would still like a rug. Lesson learned: next time I think DIY – don’t!

Almost Done

Much better

Done

And if you are wondering about the bare bulb, I am not even going to try to find a light fixture here as most houses have bare bulbs throughout and I do not know whether there is a street in the market carries fixtures!

Another Sunday, Another Beautiful Walk in the Country

Posted on December 2, 2013 by kdwyer27 under Peru, Scenery

Matt, Mistina and I set off for Llacanora on Sunday afternoon with the goal of finding the waterfalls near the town. Matt and I had previously embarked on this trip but were sidetracked by the cave art of Callac Puma. A worthy diversion, but this time we wanted to reach the waterfalls. Mistina, a teacher from Nebraska, was game to join us and was tasked with keeping us on track to our final destination. What a great time! It was about a 5 mile walk on picturesque country roads from our house to the small town of Llacanora. Once in Llacanora, we saw a sign for the waterfalls, but the directions subsequently became unclear so we kept asking everyone we saw, which included a guy walking down the street, an old lady minding a store, a lady who was actually there to go to the falls for the first time and didn’t know where to go either (we told her once we found out) and a couple of guys getting drunk sitting outside a shop (on our return trip, one guy was passed out and the other had inexplicably removed his shirt). You follow the the road above Llacanora and eventually turn left down an unmarked dirt path. It’s about another kilometer to the first falls. We never figured out what is referenced by the 1000 meters on the sign – perhaps the turn off.

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Once on the path, we knew we were on the right track as we passed “tourist restaurants” and knick-knack stores. Eventually, it became even more obvious due to the amount of other people enjoying a day in the countryside. The paths were well traveled and generally easy to navigate. We arrived at Hembra Falls and were impressed.

Hembra Falls

Picnickers

Path

Ladies selling snacks

Sign for the first falls

We kept climbing upward and eventually arrived at the even more spectacular Macho Falls, which are about 30 meters high. Due to their size, we couldn’t get a photo of the entire falls with our i-phones.

Macho Falls

Pool Beneath Macho Falls

Matt, Kerry and Macho Falls

Above the Hembra Falls

Alta Vista

On our way back, we decided to walk on the other side of the river. We arrived at this aqueduct, which we either needed to cross or go back down and around to cross the river. Mistina mustered up her courage and went across.

I took one step and chickened out. A man standing below starting shouting up words of encouragement and succeeded in shaming me into crossing. I started across in a most undignified fashion as my coach yelled specific instructions (in Spanish) to me. I froze at the wire I had to step over, a maneuver that required me to actually stand up a little.

Pathetic Kerry with Cheerleader

Under the direction of my drill sargent, I made it across and then Matt came skipping over. Okay, maybe he wasn’t skipping, but he certainly had no fear – note that he is walking on the edges of the aqueduct and not with his feet in the middle!

Fearless Matt

Matt Crossing

We left Llacanora, but not before watching two little kids zoom down a steep hill on a skateboard. The younger one clearly wanted us as an audience and gave a little wave as they set off and then again upon arriving at the bottom. Super cute. We headed back on the road to Baños and stopped at one of the restaurants along the way. These “campestre” or countryside restaurants are very popular and usually open only on the the weekends. They generally have large grounds with play areas for kids, huge tables set up under multiple pavilions and a nice, family feel. We chose one that in a valley that had about 50 cars in the parking lot and cheerful music and felt we made the right choice when Matt and Mistina saw several of their students with their families. We only had one glitch when the waiter tried to seat us in a table off in a alcove. I think he meant it kindly, but nobody puts these gringos in the corner and we asked to sit with the rest of the clientele, a request that was granted. Unfortunately, they were out of about half of the items on the menu as we arrived around 3:00, but Misitina had fried trout, Matt had grilled beef and I had a delicious stewed kid (as in baby goat, people!) dish. We ended our meal with picarones, fried squash/sweet potato doughnuts, and as we had already walked about 7 miles, walked back up to the road and caught a cab home!

Kiddie table

Happy Thanksgiving

Posted on November 26, 2013 by kdwyer27 under Celebrations, Peru

I love Thanksgiving. It falls around my birthday so the 4-day weekend always feels like a special birthday present. I come from a family of great cooks and the Thanksgiving menu has evolved over the years to include the traditional favorites along with an awesome pumpkin curry soup (thank you, Nikki) and my grandma’s antipasto (because we cannot have a family meal without an Italian dish). For the past decade, Matt and I escaped to our cottage the Friday after Thanksgiving to relax before the rush of the Christmas season. We would pull out the sofa bed and watch movies, eat turkey leftovers and not have any company. A real treat! This year is obviously different. Matt is working on Thursday as Thanksgiving is not a holiday in Peru (although I noticed that the stores do have “Black Friday” sales). So I am feeling a little bereft about missing Thanksgiving, while at the same time recognizing that my life is one long weekend and we have a lot to be thankful for.

Because I am not the only expat to feel this way, the American and Canadian expats held a Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday night. My friend Sarah, the school librarian, and I went to pick up the turkeys on Sunday morning. We took them to the host’s house to clean them and get them in the oven. While Sarah and I were each cleaning out the inside of a turkey (no tidy giblet bag here!) and plucking stray feathers, I realized my turkey still had its head! Thank goodness Sarah is from Alaska and no stranger to cleaning animals, so she gamely lopped off the heads of both turkeys. Interestingly, the feet were already off but included in the bag.

Sarah, the turkey slayer

Gobble gobble

Robert, our gracious host

Ready for the Oven!

The feast was really nice; everyone chipped in with a dish or two and we had a traditional meal. A few Peruvians were invited as well as a peace corp volunteer, Michelle, who Sarah met at the grocery store. (When you hear someone speaking English around here, you tend to strike up a conversation.) My favorite non-traditional part of the meal was a pineapple salsa that Michelle’s Peruvian host mom made for her to bring to the event. Delicious and perfect with turkey. If I am ever home for Thanksgiving, I might just have to make this dish a new staple on the family menu.