Not many people here in Peru are familiar with the name "Sean." Every once in a while, someone who watches a lot of movies will recognize the name, and say, "oh yeah! Like Sean Connery!" But most people really struggle with it.
For fun, here are some names I've been called in Peru:
Shane
Seany
Shaolin
Sham
Cham
Chan
Chon
and of course, Shark
It doesn't bother me when people get it wrong, but I definitely will not complain when, in the US, people recognize my name and pronounce it correctly.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Nice little birthday weekend
Hello everyone,
This weekend I turned 24, which to me isn't a huge deal, actually. What made things fun was that in Peru, Labor Day weekend was celebrated from Friday-Sunday.
On Saturday, I woke up and went out to a town in the campo, rural area, to spend some time with CEDEPAS co-workers and prepare a Pachamanca, which in Quechua means, "Mother Earth." Right when I got there, my buds put me to work grinding up corn kernels for what people call, Humitas. Meanwhile, my friends were working frantically to prepare the other ingredients for the climactic placing of the ingredients in the natural earth oven. Alejandro was mashing up a red pepper for the salsa. Lucio and Evelin were preparing the rocks surrounding fire, which would later play a significant role in the cooking of the food. One interesting moment was when I asked what types of meat were going to be included in the meal. Right as I asked, 3 cuyes, guinea pigs, were being sacrificed in front of my eyes. They actually didn't squeal at all, because the asesina had plenty of experience at killing them quickly. Since we were on a farm, a goat and a chicken had also been sacrificed for this event.
Eventually, we transfered all the meat, potatoes, and ground up corn (which we placed in corn husks) to the oven/fire, which had been buring since 5 AM. The oven looked like this: stacked up like an igloo over the fire were VERY HOT rocks. Beneath the rocks was a hole about 4 feet deep, surfaced with blazing hot embers. We carefully deconstructed the "igloo" with broken stucco roof pieces, thick sticks, or shovels. Once that task was complete, we added the potatoes as a bottom layer, then placed large leaves over the top of them. The next step, from what I remember, was to add some rocks (from which serious heat was radiating), and then the meat. While the two or three people were adding the pieces, almost everyone else was shouting out directions: "NO!!! Put it there, by that rock!" "A little more to the right." After this, we added the corn-based humitas, whose placement correct placement wasn't as vital. We then placed leaves and plastic sheets over everything so that the smoke would not escape. Over these items we efficiently shoveled large amounts of dirt to ensure that oven would be well-insulated. Then, we waited an hour and took all of the items out for a FEAST.
What ensued was a time of fellowship/communion. We laughed, played games until dusk, and celebrated the simplicity of the situation. My friend Onesimo said, "this is what I love about Peru: one can have a great time even in a place with no technology. It doesn't matter where you are, but who you're with." I believed that in the US, but I believe it even more in Peru.
This weekend I turned 24, which to me isn't a huge deal, actually. What made things fun was that in Peru, Labor Day weekend was celebrated from Friday-Sunday.
On Saturday, I woke up and went out to a town in the campo, rural area, to spend some time with CEDEPAS co-workers and prepare a Pachamanca, which in Quechua means, "Mother Earth." Right when I got there, my buds put me to work grinding up corn kernels for what people call, Humitas. Meanwhile, my friends were working frantically to prepare the other ingredients for the climactic placing of the ingredients in the natural earth oven. Alejandro was mashing up a red pepper for the salsa. Lucio and Evelin were preparing the rocks surrounding fire, which would later play a significant role in the cooking of the food. One interesting moment was when I asked what types of meat were going to be included in the meal. Right as I asked, 3 cuyes, guinea pigs, were being sacrificed in front of my eyes. They actually didn't squeal at all, because the asesina had plenty of experience at killing them quickly. Since we were on a farm, a goat and a chicken had also been sacrificed for this event.
Eventually, we transfered all the meat, potatoes, and ground up corn (which we placed in corn husks) to the oven/fire, which had been buring since 5 AM. The oven looked like this: stacked up like an igloo over the fire were VERY HOT rocks. Beneath the rocks was a hole about 4 feet deep, surfaced with blazing hot embers. We carefully deconstructed the "igloo" with broken stucco roof pieces, thick sticks, or shovels. Once that task was complete, we added the potatoes as a bottom layer, then placed large leaves over the top of them. The next step, from what I remember, was to add some rocks (from which serious heat was radiating), and then the meat. While the two or three people were adding the pieces, almost everyone else was shouting out directions: "NO!!! Put it there, by that rock!" "A little more to the right." After this, we added the corn-based humitas, whose placement correct placement wasn't as vital. We then placed leaves and plastic sheets over everything so that the smoke would not escape. Over these items we efficiently shoveled large amounts of dirt to ensure that oven would be well-insulated. Then, we waited an hour and took all of the items out for a FEAST.
What ensued was a time of fellowship/communion. We laughed, played games until dusk, and celebrated the simplicity of the situation. My friend Onesimo said, "this is what I love about Peru: one can have a great time even in a place with no technology. It doesn't matter where you are, but who you're with." I believed that in the US, but I believe it even more in Peru.
Monday, March 16, 2009
CortaMontes
Last night would have been a good time to have a camera handy. Unfortunately I lost my camera in October during a YAV retreat in Huanuco, but have still been able to have much of my experience documented, because every other YAV has a camera and here in Huancayo I have access to CEDEPAS' camera most of the time. However, last night was one of those spontaneous flashes for which I couldn't anticipate needing a camera.
Carnaval is a pretty big deal down here. I actually thought it was over for the year, but I was proven wrong when last night I attended a huge block party. Included were traditional garb, dances from Jauja, and the dissonance of several bands playing over one another. Oh, and of course, trees that were brought in and planted in the middle of the street, only to be cut down throughout the night. All of this is called "Cortamontes," which awkwardly translates to "Cutting down the Mountain" festival. I asked why it wasn't called, "Corta-arboles," since arboles are trees, and they are what were being cut down. But I was told that "Cortamontes" has a better ring to it.
So right when I got there the hosts were in the middle of chopping down a tree in the middle of the dirt road. There was a spirit of bonhomie as the majority of the dressed-up folk pranced around the tree with smiles and drinks in hand, while one or two people struck the tree with a gigantic axe. Up in the tree branches are balloons filled with treats, so kids wait eagerly for the tree with tumble, while the adults watch on and occasionally make comments about the quality of chopping, or that there's a random gringo who came to watch the celebration. Classic. Once the tree finally falls, all the kids rush to recover any balloon they can find. Occasionally an adult gets in the mix, but that's bad form. Meanwhile, the band, who has been playing traditional "huayno" music, plays a more dramatic song than their previous one. The dogs that were just a second ago walking around the vacant space, sniffing for any remnant of food, scatter out of fear. Kids retreat with gigantic smiles and wait for the next tree to be cut down, just like the last one, down the corridor of happiness. This goes on until about 1 AM.
If only I had a camera to document this all. It made me ask myself, "how the heck did I get here?" and, "how do I describe this to anyone else?" Even though I was literally being stared at by about half the people there, I felt like I belonged. Actually, some brave kids came over to the circle I was standing in and engaged me in conversation. Others came in a large group and stood studying my every move until they decided I wasn't all that different than anyone else there. One girl even asked me, "what is your name?," to which I was more impressed that I understood what she said than focused on giving a response.
Nice little Sunday evening.
Carnaval is a pretty big deal down here. I actually thought it was over for the year, but I was proven wrong when last night I attended a huge block party. Included were traditional garb, dances from Jauja, and the dissonance of several bands playing over one another. Oh, and of course, trees that were brought in and planted in the middle of the street, only to be cut down throughout the night. All of this is called "Cortamontes," which awkwardly translates to "Cutting down the Mountain" festival. I asked why it wasn't called, "Corta-arboles," since arboles are trees, and they are what were being cut down. But I was told that "Cortamontes" has a better ring to it.
So right when I got there the hosts were in the middle of chopping down a tree in the middle of the dirt road. There was a spirit of bonhomie as the majority of the dressed-up folk pranced around the tree with smiles and drinks in hand, while one or two people struck the tree with a gigantic axe. Up in the tree branches are balloons filled with treats, so kids wait eagerly for the tree with tumble, while the adults watch on and occasionally make comments about the quality of chopping, or that there's a random gringo who came to watch the celebration. Classic. Once the tree finally falls, all the kids rush to recover any balloon they can find. Occasionally an adult gets in the mix, but that's bad form. Meanwhile, the band, who has been playing traditional "huayno" music, plays a more dramatic song than their previous one. The dogs that were just a second ago walking around the vacant space, sniffing for any remnant of food, scatter out of fear. Kids retreat with gigantic smiles and wait for the next tree to be cut down, just like the last one, down the corridor of happiness. This goes on until about 1 AM.
If only I had a camera to document this all. It made me ask myself, "how the heck did I get here?" and, "how do I describe this to anyone else?" Even though I was literally being stared at by about half the people there, I felt like I belonged. Actually, some brave kids came over to the circle I was standing in and engaged me in conversation. Others came in a large group and stood studying my every move until they decided I wasn't all that different than anyone else there. One girl even asked me, "what is your name?," to which I was more impressed that I understood what she said than focused on giving a response.
Nice little Sunday evening.
Friday, March 13, 2009
A little update
First of all, I'm going to BRAZIL in a few days. If that's a surprise to you, it was to me as well. Less than a week ago my site coordinator, Debbie, told Alex, another YAV, and I that there was one spot available to attend a conference sponsored by an organization called AIRPRAL for Youth Leaders in the "Andean" region. Knowing that it would be quite a bummer for one of us not to be able to go, and that it would generally be safer traveling with another person, Debbie asked if another gringo could tag along. After a couple days of waiting to hear back, the answer was YES! Woo hoo!
So Alex and I went through the relatively stressful, but quick, process of obtaining VISAS and notifying our site supervisors and host families that we'll be gone AGAIN in just a few days. The conference will include young folks from all over South America, and luckily will be held in Spanish, not Portuguese. Since I don't have a camera, I'll depend on Alex to take some good shots. Oh, I actually forgot to mention the name of the town we'll be in: Iguazo Falls!!!
Apart from that exciting piece of news, I'm still trying to find ways to insert myself into the work of CEDEPAS. Most of the time, when I have an "assignment," I simply follow people to the places where they're working, listen to whatever workshop is going on, and help with smaller tasks, like signing people in, or setting up the projector. It's difficult to find the balance between stepping in and taking too much control, and simply idling through the year without doing much of anything. I've tried to be patient, getting to know the Andean context, which has suffered so much and holds on to rich traditions. Now, at least, I feel like I know enough to step in and not be too culturally-insensitive. So, what that means is, I'm spending less time on the computer and more time going around asking all of the department coordinators in what ways I can contribute. Today, I spend time preparing work modules for students of the, "Formation of Peacemaking Counselors" Program run by my specific department. Tomorrow I'm going to sit down with a couple more people and see where they can put me to work. I've realized that even though I'm a pretty "go with the flow" guy, I won't make it through the rest of my time here if I'm doing little to nothing.
And as I always tell people, the relationship I have with my host family is great. Same with the interactions I have with the youth at the Emanuel church that I attend and share a reflection with every Saturday night. I just need to find the balance of accepting my current reality and "conviviencia," hanging out, vs. the North American concept of productivity = success. It'll be interesting how it turns out.
Hope you're doing well! Also, hope spring you can enjoy the spring when it comes! I'm sure missing the seasons, and will especially miss spring this year!
Take care,
Sean
So Alex and I went through the relatively stressful, but quick, process of obtaining VISAS and notifying our site supervisors and host families that we'll be gone AGAIN in just a few days. The conference will include young folks from all over South America, and luckily will be held in Spanish, not Portuguese. Since I don't have a camera, I'll depend on Alex to take some good shots. Oh, I actually forgot to mention the name of the town we'll be in: Iguazo Falls!!!
Apart from that exciting piece of news, I'm still trying to find ways to insert myself into the work of CEDEPAS. Most of the time, when I have an "assignment," I simply follow people to the places where they're working, listen to whatever workshop is going on, and help with smaller tasks, like signing people in, or setting up the projector. It's difficult to find the balance between stepping in and taking too much control, and simply idling through the year without doing much of anything. I've tried to be patient, getting to know the Andean context, which has suffered so much and holds on to rich traditions. Now, at least, I feel like I know enough to step in and not be too culturally-insensitive. So, what that means is, I'm spending less time on the computer and more time going around asking all of the department coordinators in what ways I can contribute. Today, I spend time preparing work modules for students of the, "Formation of Peacemaking Counselors" Program run by my specific department. Tomorrow I'm going to sit down with a couple more people and see where they can put me to work. I've realized that even though I'm a pretty "go with the flow" guy, I won't make it through the rest of my time here if I'm doing little to nothing.
And as I always tell people, the relationship I have with my host family is great. Same with the interactions I have with the youth at the Emanuel church that I attend and share a reflection with every Saturday night. I just need to find the balance of accepting my current reality and "conviviencia," hanging out, vs. the North American concept of productivity = success. It'll be interesting how it turns out.
Hope you're doing well! Also, hope spring you can enjoy the spring when it comes! I'm sure missing the seasons, and will especially miss spring this year!
Take care,
Sean
Monday, February 2, 2009
So, it looks like the video of the CEDEPAS facility didn't upload. I guess I can understand, because it was a huge file.
Anyway, I just got back from an Environmental conference with folks from Bolivia, Peru, and the US participating. Overall it was a solid time, as we got to learn about new issues concerning the environment, got to meet some young adults, and generally kept busy (which is always a plus, especially when tasks aren't always well-defined most of the time).
As for my work for this second half of my stay in Peru, it looks like I'll be teaching a lot of English classes. Half of the time I'll be teaching CEDEPAS workers, since some of them will be traveling to international conferences where English is spoken. The other half of the time I'll be working with young adults from different Protestant churches, hopefully infusing some of CEDEPAS' values and talking about things that are relevant to their lives. We'll see what happens.
Finally, it looks like I'll be starting to go to some nearby communities to work with local campesinos. Basically, the work will involve teaching sustainable, environmentally-friendly techniques to growing crops like corn and potatoes. However, since it can be more expensive to do this, we also help them with marketing and selling of the crops. Additionally, I think I'll be working with locals to help them to get involved in their government so that they can make the changes they see necessary in their communities.
If I find out about any other new tasks, I'll write them here.
Chao!
Sean
Anyway, I just got back from an Environmental conference with folks from Bolivia, Peru, and the US participating. Overall it was a solid time, as we got to learn about new issues concerning the environment, got to meet some young adults, and generally kept busy (which is always a plus, especially when tasks aren't always well-defined most of the time).
As for my work for this second half of my stay in Peru, it looks like I'll be teaching a lot of English classes. Half of the time I'll be teaching CEDEPAS workers, since some of them will be traveling to international conferences where English is spoken. The other half of the time I'll be working with young adults from different Protestant churches, hopefully infusing some of CEDEPAS' values and talking about things that are relevant to their lives. We'll see what happens.
Finally, it looks like I'll be starting to go to some nearby communities to work with local campesinos. Basically, the work will involve teaching sustainable, environmentally-friendly techniques to growing crops like corn and potatoes. However, since it can be more expensive to do this, we also help them with marketing and selling of the crops. Additionally, I think I'll be working with locals to help them to get involved in their government so that they can make the changes they see necessary in their communities.
If I find out about any other new tasks, I'll write them here.
Chao!
Sean
Friday, January 23, 2009
CEDEPAS Facility and the Broken Wrist Band
Since I don't think I've taken a video of where I'm living and working, I figured it may be a little overdue after 5 months. Anyway, better late than never.
In other news, about a month ago I broke the wrist band to my watch while hiking with some folks. We went through a wooded area and a branch got ahold of the band, causing the watch to fall. Efforts to repair the watch were in vain.
I think I can honestly say that this happening has been one of the biggest blessings in this year, because before the fateful afternoon, I was literally looking at the time and date on my watch every 5 minutes, thinking to myself, "only 6 more months of this." I sometimes just stood there and counted the seconds, which is not always the best idea when there isn't a whole lot to do.
Now, I feel much more relaxed with the time. In fact, I just "go with the flow." If someone needs the time, they can find a new man to ask. If you need the date, better look at your calendar, not Sean. Perhaps it's the classic "gringo in Latin America" story of finally taking a breath of fresh air and saying, "I'm here and I've accepted it."
...and that's not easy to say when simple luxuries such as walking the streets at night safely or the ability to transport yourself where you need to get, or to simply be understood at any given moment, are non-existant.
In other news, about a month ago I broke the wrist band to my watch while hiking with some folks. We went through a wooded area and a branch got ahold of the band, causing the watch to fall. Efforts to repair the watch were in vain.
I think I can honestly say that this happening has been one of the biggest blessings in this year, because before the fateful afternoon, I was literally looking at the time and date on my watch every 5 minutes, thinking to myself, "only 6 more months of this." I sometimes just stood there and counted the seconds, which is not always the best idea when there isn't a whole lot to do.
Now, I feel much more relaxed with the time. In fact, I just "go with the flow." If someone needs the time, they can find a new man to ask. If you need the date, better look at your calendar, not Sean. Perhaps it's the classic "gringo in Latin America" story of finally taking a breath of fresh air and saying, "I'm here and I've accepted it."
...and that's not easy to say when simple luxuries such as walking the streets at night safely or the ability to transport yourself where you need to get, or to simply be understood at any given moment, are non-existant.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
I feel like I should put something up, since there's been such a large gap in communication through this blog.
Maybe the reason I haven't posted anything is because recently, there haven't been too many "major, life-changing" moments in the past month or so, at least in the tangible sense. The biggest "change" that I've experienced is (more of) a sense of peace with my life here in Huancayo. I no longer look at my watch and daydream about life in a city next year, or even long for bike rides on well-maintained bike paths with drivers who respect bicyclists. Really, I just have to remind myself frequently that I'm here precisely to get away from those things -- to experience a different reality.
This year isn't like a study abroad experience. I should have dropped that idea when I applied to be a YAV.
During my study abroad semester in Cholula, Mexico, if I wanted to, I could walk around late at night on my own in relative safety. The university I attended was gated and even more equipped with modern technology than many universities in the States. There were gringo's around to retreat to when I needed to talk to someone who understood my context. If I wanted to, I could simply ignore the poverty (except for the days that I volunteered at an orphanage), and continue living in luxury.
Here in Huancayo, my residence is not a high-class dormitory, but a house that until my arrival didn't have a shower with hot water. My host family recently installed one because the program requires that I have hot water. The poverty that surrounds where I'm living and working is a reality for the vast majority of Peruvians, or Latin Americans in general. And even though these have easily been 3 of the most challenging months of my life, I still recognize my privilege and ability to escape this poverty.
This isn't me complaining or bragging about how extreme I am for living here. It's just me saying that if study abroad only halfway opened my eyes to the "real" Latin America, this year has the opportunity to open my eyes completely. I feel like God has worked through my to instill a sense of peace with my new lifestyle. From this point, I hope that I, with God's help, can seek even more ways to integrate myself into the community, instead of separating myself by fleeting to the allure of privilege.
Maybe the reason I haven't posted anything is because recently, there haven't been too many "major, life-changing" moments in the past month or so, at least in the tangible sense. The biggest "change" that I've experienced is (more of) a sense of peace with my life here in Huancayo. I no longer look at my watch and daydream about life in a city next year, or even long for bike rides on well-maintained bike paths with drivers who respect bicyclists. Really, I just have to remind myself frequently that I'm here precisely to get away from those things -- to experience a different reality.
This year isn't like a study abroad experience. I should have dropped that idea when I applied to be a YAV.
During my study abroad semester in Cholula, Mexico, if I wanted to, I could walk around late at night on my own in relative safety. The university I attended was gated and even more equipped with modern technology than many universities in the States. There were gringo's around to retreat to when I needed to talk to someone who understood my context. If I wanted to, I could simply ignore the poverty (except for the days that I volunteered at an orphanage), and continue living in luxury.
Here in Huancayo, my residence is not a high-class dormitory, but a house that until my arrival didn't have a shower with hot water. My host family recently installed one because the program requires that I have hot water. The poverty that surrounds where I'm living and working is a reality for the vast majority of Peruvians, or Latin Americans in general. And even though these have easily been 3 of the most challenging months of my life, I still recognize my privilege and ability to escape this poverty.
This isn't me complaining or bragging about how extreme I am for living here. It's just me saying that if study abroad only halfway opened my eyes to the "real" Latin America, this year has the opportunity to open my eyes completely. I feel like God has worked through my to instill a sense of peace with my new lifestyle. From this point, I hope that I, with God's help, can seek even more ways to integrate myself into the community, instead of separating myself by fleeting to the allure of privilege.
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