Settle In Hombre

I lay on my bed, thankful for this siesta.  My door opens to the roof, where the sun shines and the wind blows clothes on the drying lines and pulls at the sheet metal roof of the building next door.  A loudspeaker in the distance blasts a man’s voice, chanting and singing no discernable language.  If I didn’t know better it could be prayer time in the Middle East.   A parade marches by and it sounds like Native Americans, drumming and chanting.  The Natives still live here!  The Spanish came and gave and took, but the vibrant cultures of the Andean people resonate powerfully everywhere.  By the way, the Chinese live here too.  Chinese food here is called “Chifa.”

Across the street from the front door of my building are several Juguerias, where you can get juice of any variety, as well as food… you can get a hotdog sandwich if you’d like.  From one of these cafeterias, called “Jugueria Chompa ‘Jack,’” I watched a big Quechua woman scoop soup and morsels from 5 gallon buckets.  She was constantly surrounded by Camposinos… countryfolk, from the hills.  They’ve got gold teeth and bright dresses of infinite color and variety.  They are beautiful women, old and young, and strong dark men from ancient stock.

Eating with these women is a treat.  They laugh at the gringo but they love me because I love them.  They call me “Caballero” and “Papa.”  They are a piece of home – perhaps my grandmother from another continent.  They know that food can cure more than hunger.  They help me find what I need.  Today was soup with tender morsels of beef.  I cracked the bones with my teeth and took the marrow as salve.  I opted out of the cuy – guinea pig.  The women pass raw meat to and fro.  I sit on a small wooden chair on the sidewalk and take my bowl of soup.  Treats.  When you are hungry all food becomes easier to fathom.

I eat here with them after I leave work.  Work is preschool in the hills of Monterrey, a minibus ride from town.  An American boy and a Belgian boy, 5.  Two 4 year old Peruvians, girl and boy, and a couple 7 year olds.  Also, an 8 year old with Downs syndrome.  The owner of the preschool charges his family less than the other children’s families.

I speak three languages at school – English for the American, French for the Belgique, and Spanish for everyone else.  Spanish is a huge problem because it is so unnatural for me.  The textbooks cut it into hard syllables but when I listen to suave speakers it glides like water – like Portuguese.  And the American and Belgian boys speak in Spanish.  If you want to ostracize someone it’s easy – just speak in a language to them that noone understands.  And this is not fun.

So I go Silent-Jim through the school day, listening the children speak and interjecting only when necessary and possible.  And Cole, the American, helps me translate here and there.  Ruth, the Peruana I work with, is lovely to be so nice to me.  She does almost all the talking and teaches everyone, including me, Spanish. 

Our school is located a kilometer from hot springs… every Thursday we walk to them and spend the day swimming in hot water and having a picnic.  I double here as a swim instructor.  Mateo, the little Peruvian 4 year old, is terrified of going under and holds my neck for dear life the entire time we’re at the pool.

There is a population of well-to-do expats here.  The American student’s family invited me to their house for a barbecue.  They run a brewing company and are expedition and climbing experts.  Because of them I have a bicycle and friends.

Huaraz, Ancash, Peru could be a small New York City in the 1970s, surrounded by snow-capped world class mountain ranges.  Couples kiss and love is in the air.  Laws are discretionary, and the biggest law seems to be self-preservation (so long as you respect society).  Social respect is a curious animal here.  People pee in the streets.  I saw a guy piss in another guy’s car two nights ago.  I’m assuming he wasn’t pissing in his own car.

Small business are the rule.  Yesterday I ordered a pair of cowboy boots.  The leathersmith, proprietor of the Zapateria, traced my feet and took the order.  The boots on display are among trophies.  The leather and stitching is of the finest quality.  They will take 2 weeks and will cost about $150. 

What do I miss?  I miss all of my friends and family.  I miss breakfast at the kitchen table with my parents.  Sitting around watching a movie with my brothers.  Hanging out with Helen, who is somewhere in the Jungle right now, studying agriculture with the natives (as far as I know).  I can’t help but chuckle thinking of what kind of situation she’s in right now… that girl is someone special.  YOU are someone special.

I’ve gotta go pick my bicycle up and transfer this information to the internet.  My new humble abode is a concrete room on top of a 3 story building.  I can’t stand up straight in here.  I’ve chipped a tooth on the doorway.  No internet.

I bought an electric oven-top for 6 dollars.  Imagine an electric burner on your stove that is portable and plugs into the wall.  It heats up red hot, a furious little hairdryer on your table.  It’s made in China!  The first time I plugged it in my room filled with smoke and plastic fumes.

My toilet has no seat.  That’s typical.  Also, my agua caliente, hot water for showers, is agua not so caliente.  But that’s ok.  I stay pretty clean and can take the temperature, or lack of it.

No sickness, save the sickness of the heart here and there, which is temporary and passing.  It’s amazing the conversations you’ll have with someone just because they speak your language.

I got drunk the other night at a “medicine shop” that sells hot syrup in a glass mug for 40 cents a mug.  I almost bought a motorcycle but thought twice.  Speaking of drinking, I’ve been drinking the water and eating food in places that smell like feces.  The feces is unavoidable.  No diarrhea, no illness.

To my family and friends, you know who you are, I miss you!  This is wonderful place full of rich culture and good people.  They can’t substitute your love.  Take care of yourself!  Kiss someone you love and give them a big hug.

Hasta Luego.