my fourth of freakin’ july.

i woke up at around 8ish and stumbled down the stairs for breakfast… i had no energy. after 2 cups of joe, i started preparing for my business class at the colegio. i stopped by our internet cabina (with no internet, of course), to make copies of some forms for my SESP students and talked to william for a bit (one of the few friends i have here in Catache). he asked me to go to la misa (mass) with him at 6pm. “mass on a friday???” i asked… “yeah, its the anniversary of this old man who passed away a year ago.” (here in peru, they do this - every year - on the day of their death.) so i agreed - i’ve only been to misa in Catache once - for christmas.

before i knew it, it was time for my business class. what a disappointment. not many students came to class - i guess on every monday of this month, my students can either attend their last hour of class, or - if they play on one of the sports teams - they have practice. more than half of my students are on sports teams. they are preparing for a game in Santa Cruz this weekend - and for el día de deportes in Piccuy (which is the day after the fiesta de Piccuy, and is on the 10th).

i only have this month to prepare the kids for the competition and help them create business plans - and not a single student has a concrete idea on what business they want to do. so this crapola is weighing on me terribly, and i am pretty much freaking out.

after class, i had lunch - and i tried to cool myself down for a bit. i stopped by cinthia’s house to see if she wanted to run with me earlier than our 5pm daily runs. she said that’s perfect, because she needs to go to la misa, too. we all agreed (william, cinthia, and i) to meet at cinthia’s house, so we could all go together.

we ran for about an hour today - i had tons of energy, for some reason. it was then when i realized it was the fourth of july. it was nice to be running with cinthia, because i could explain to her about the fourth in america, and express to her how much i really miss the states. after running, we showered and met up with william.

mass was beautiful… the church was so full that some people had to stand at the back. and - as always - it made me miss my pops. el padre (the father) was the priest from Santa Cruz, who courtney and i have met a few times. so that added a special touch. after normal mass, the daughter of the deceased came up to the alter for a few words. i could hardly understand her through her tears (which made me cry too, of course).

when mass was over, i ended up talking in the street with cinthia, william, and his friends. one of his friends is in college in Lima (she’s in town only for the mass/celebration of her grandfather) - and she speaks perfect english. we talked for about a half an hour together (in english) - everyone was staring. before i left for dinner, she and i planned to meet tomorrow, after my english class at the primaria - - something to look forward to!

so, now im off to bed… after an awful morning - a mediocre afternoon - but a great evening…!

Victory Dance

should i close my eyes and prophesize
hoping maybe someday come?
should i wet the ground with my old tears
crying over what’s been done?
should i lift the dirt and plant the seed
even though i’ve never grown?
should i wet the ground with the sweat from my brow
and believe in my good work?

my good work…
my good work…
my good work

baby - i’m flying up above
looking down - on the tired earth
and i can see - i can see potential
speaking through you
speaking to you
from all of heaven’s possibility

power - hey do you know how it work?
hey do you know that the meek
they shall inherit the earth
you should work
you should work
yeah for yourself and the family

should i hit the water or stay on dry land
even though i’ve never swam?
take the machete into the brush
though at first there is no plan
taste the war-paint on my tongue
as it’s dripping with my sweat
place my gaze in the future’s path
seeing things that ain’t come yet

hope to watch the victory dance
after the day’s work is done
hope to watch the victory dance
in the evening’s setting sun
hope to watch the victory dance
over many lives to come
hope to watch the victory dance
in the evening’s setting sun

setting sun…
setting sun…
setting sun

hope to dance the victory dance
after the day’s work is done
hope to dance the victory dance
in the evening’s setting sun
hope to dance the victory dance
over many lives to come
hope to dance the victory dance
in the evening’s setting sun
setting sun…

- My Morning Jacket

and, here - during our peace corps service - it’s what we’re all thinking…

solita hoy día - voy a pasear!

so, today i had nothing planned - except for my run with the kids at 4:30pm. instead of sitting on my butt - reading or watching a movie on my computer - i decided to take a hike up to Piccuy (a nearby caserío). i got myself all bug-sprayed up - and with my ipod, bottled water, and camera, i headed out the door.

it was a nice, quite, peaceful walk - all the kids were in school, and the few people that were around were working on their chacras or heading to or from town. and my new playlist i made to send to Casey was the perfect soundtrack for the journey.

my normal Piccuy hike (from my house and back) usually takes me about 45 minutes total. but, today i decided to take my time and just enjoy the views, so i was out for about an hour and a half. here are some photos i took…

walking from Catache:

the view of Munana from afar:

a view from afar - the road to Piccuy - up up up…

short-cut to Piccuy... in which i will never take:

crossing the bridge…

on the left: the road to Munana / on the right: the road to Piccuy:

the walk up - and some views of Catache:

El Monte - from afar:

arriving to Piccuy:

on the way back home:

mother nature’s son

the beatles

born a poor young country boy

mother nature’s son

all day long, i’m sitting singing songs

for everyone

sit beside a mountain stream

see her water’s rise

listen to the pretty sound of music

as she flies

find me in my field of grass

mother nature’s son

swaying daisies sing a lazy song

beneath the sun

mother nature’s son

World Wise Schools Program and a big GRACIAS to Seminole Middle School!

I’ve been participating in the World Wise Schools Program since my service began in here Peru. The program is WONDERFUL to inform classes in the United States about the Peace Corps! One of my dear friends from the states, Ginger, has a mother who teaches archeology and gifted at Seminole Middle School - Professor Deborah Love. Basically, I correspond with her class by sending monthly letters about my experiences, my work, the culture here in Peru, and the Peace Corps - with pictures, videos, and other goodies for the students. They have classroom discussions about the things that I send to them, and they write me back individual letters.

Well this week, I received an incredible donation from her class at Seminole Middle School. 5 boxes filled with books, training materials, pens, pencils, erasers, paper, notebooks, book covers, videos… tons of stuff!

Inventory of Materials Received:

This morning, I divvied out the materials as I saw fit - separating them to give to the Inicial I’ve been working with in Munana, and to the Primaria and Secundaria here in Catache.

Inicial Materials:

Primaria Materials:

Secundaria Materials:

And in the afternoon, I went to each school to explain a bit about the World Wise Schools Program and hand out the donations. Both the teachers and students were more than excited!

Giving the Materials to the Inicial in Munana:

Opening the Box with the Director of the Primaria:

With the Director in the Primaria - 1st Grade Class:

Giving the Materials to the Primaria:

The Secundaria:

Words cannot express how grateful I, the teachers, and the students were to receive all of these materials! The most enormous “thank you!” to Deborah Love, her class, and all of Seminole Middle School from myself, Catache, and Munana!!! GRACIAS!

no puedo participar… ugh.

despite the fact that for the past 6 months, ive been running almost every single day - despite the fact that ive created separate running groups for colegio students, older women, and even young children - despite the fact that for the past month, ive been running over 10k, preparing myself to participate in my very first marathon - - despite all of this… i cannot attend the darn 4th Annual Maratón Internacional de Pacasmayo. sorry, Nip-Lip.

i am so completely and utterly bummed-out, words cannot describe. i was planning to register for the ½ marathon: 21k.

and on top of all of this, i cannot even take advantage of the free vacation days for the fourth of july. ugh…!

why, you ask..? well, it’s because i cant afford to miss any more days of my SESP course. last week - no classes - because of the elections… this week - no classes - because its the anniversary of the colegio… so, taking time off for my much anticipated marathon would only put me that much further behind… AHHHHH!

work does come first, after-all. and i guess there’s always next year - maybe i’ll have increased my stamina by then to run the full 42k…? and there’s always the marathon in Lima i can do later on…

oh well.

CJM y amistad.

I haven’t really - TRULY - minded the nonexistent internet and cell phone reception in my town… until now. Alas, here I am - in the dark. Where there is no reality - no nothing.

The other day, we had internet in Catache, and I received an email from my mom regarding my beloved Casey Joe. She told me that he has a tumor in his neck and is currently in the hospital, and the doctors fully expected some combination of paralysis after the surgery. She told me to check my facebook for the news from Sunday (Casey’s sister). I was sitting there in my small internet cabina in the middle-of-nowhere peru with tears pouring out of my eyes.

After sending an email to Sunday, I finally left the cabina. I texted Suzanne to have my Pops call me as soon as he could. When he did, it brought those tears back out - for sure. But, it was so comforting - just to let it all out. Towards the end of the call, he said, “You know, this is the first time you’ve needed any kind of emotional support. Almost a whole year of this solitude - now you reach out. He’s really left a mark in your life, Ashley.” My Casey Joe - he means the world to me. If anything more detrimental than this were to happen to him - I don’t know… Thank goodness gracious the surgery went okay. He is in excellent shape so he is healing quickly.

“Dal centro della mia vita venne una grande fontana.” - Louise Glück
(Italian - translation: From the center of my life, there came a great fountain.)

He is my fountain. He has influenced my life more than he will ever know. He has made me who I am today. The years can fly as fast as they want - but this soul inside of me will never change. And he gave rise to this soul of mine, and will always be apart of my life - as I will always continue be apart of his. Maybe someday the stars will align once again for us. But if not - he will continue to reside in this grand portion of my heart, and he will always have my unconditional companionship. “We’re just 2 lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl - year after year.”

I wish I could be there for my Casey Joe - “to smell the sea and feel the sky.” It often gets laborious in these dark, lonely Andes.

But, that night, I had Andrew calling every hour or so, just to check up on me. I know he’ll forever be in my life. And I just got off the phone after about an hour-long conversation with Omar, who told me to call him anytime I needed someone to talk to.

My Andrew, Omar, and Michael Jackson (Jeff) - I love those damn kids. No matter the amount of time that passes after this shit - no matter which roads we decide to take in this efing, whacked-out, unpredictable journey of life - we’ll always have THIS - each other and the moments we’ve shared here in the middle-of-nowhere peru. Rejection. Difference. Failure. Success. Uncertainty. Raw emotions. Adventure. And definitely some loneliness along the way… loneliness that has somehow turned into strength and independence. It’s a damn roller-coaster, dude. Although we’ve fought all of these internal battles on our own, we’ve always had each other - sharing these experiences along the way. And you know what…? We always will.

cock fights, cymbals, and a rare “thank-you.”

yesterday afternoon, mark and i hopped on a bus with carlos - heading to a very, very small caserío outside of Chongoyape called Tablazos. all of carlos’s extened family lives there - and this weekend they were celebrating the town’s anniversary.

after a late lunch, we headed to the cock ring, to witness me and mark’s very first cock fights! they fight for (i think) 8 minutes or so - and if one of the cock’s kills the other within the timeframe, he is the winner. the fighting itself is very beautiful - it looks as if they are dancing with each other (with the occasional peck). of course, if or when one of them dies, it is more than triste. we had our drinking circle going - and every time i glanced over at mark, his face was lit up with the biggest 5 year old child’s smile!

after the fights, we headed over to where the band was playing. around our large drinking circle, we had interesting conversations as the beer was passed around and around and around… then we hit the dance floor!

mark hit it off with the guys from the band, and he was given their cymbals to play. his smile went from ear to ear, as he marched around the stage and dance floor banging them together!  (video below)

towards the end of the night, mark was talking with one of the trumpet players from the band, and they called me over. the trumpet player lived in another caserío - not too far from Tablazos - and they had a peace corps volunteer in his town a few years before. he went on and on saying, “i just want to thank you - so much - for sacrificing two years of your life to help us. you left your family, your friends, everything - to live alone in a foreign place just to help others. and from the bottom of my heart… i really cannot thank you enough.”

wow.

this was the first time i had EVER been thanked - or even acknowledged - for my reasons for being here. i told him i wanted to cry!

when the night was over, mark and i walked arm-in-arm back to the house together, discussing the rare “thank-you” we received. at this point, i was crying. i mean, we go through each day of our service - doing the best that we can - not even expecting anyone to notice what we have given up to do this work that we are doing.

but, when somebody does - that, alone, is rewarding enough to make me feel as if i am making a difference.