Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Memorial Day Weekend

SUMMARY:

Had a great Memorial Day weekend, starting with sleeping in on Saturday and heading to Wong--much more than just a grocery store. Followed Wong with a trip to the Rodeo, followed by a barbeque at the intern house, followed by a night out on the town (although we missed the Marines by a hair). Went to bed at 3:30 and got up at 5:00 to head to Ica for an overnight trip full of sandboarding and winery tours. Some reflections on my new political status in light of the upcoming presidential elections and a thank you for my first two pieces of snail mail that arrived at the Embassy and are hanging in my cubicle to make it look a little more homey!

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Happy Memorial Day! Hope you all had a great holiday, celebrating in whatever way you could, whether in America or abroad. Since the Embassy celebrates both American and Peruvian holidays, we had a three day weekend, and we interns decided to live it up as much as possible! Unfortunately, three days just isn't enough time to go on a major trip, say to Brazil or Argentina, or even to Cuzco. Especially when you don't even begin the planning process until Wednesday, the logistics are a bit iffy. That didn't stop us from getting out of Lima, though.

Other than a barbeque being planned by Jared at our house and a possible rodeo suggested by Angie (one of the summer hires), I didn't really have any big plans for the weekend. I figured I might do some sight-seeing in Lima and hit up the indian market (apparently a great place for bartering and inexpensive souvenirs). That all changed with the arrival of Max and Brianna, two new interns in the FCS (something about communications for local branches of American companies) department! They were determined to make the most out of one of our rare long weekends. As soon as I heard them talking about going somewhere, I jumped on the bandwagon.

After lots of online research and plenty of input from coworkers in each of our departments, we compiled our information and decided that Ica sounded like the place to go. We didn't want to let the others down, either, thought, so we decided not to leave until Sunday morning.

Saturday morning was glorious, as I started it off by sleeping in, followed by a trip to Wong: my favorite grocery store. I am convinced that there's no grocery shopping experience quite like the one you get at Wong. As you walk in the entrance, you're immediately swept into a zone of boundless energy. You may be greeted at the door by a keyboard-playing spokesperson for a music company or a girl dressed all in yellow, highlighting the rack of 3M hooks nearby. Or perhaps you'll merely be escorted by the shopping cart attendant, eager to guide you and your cart into the buzzing frenzy of shoppers navigating their way through the aisles as if they're on the streets of Lima.

Maybe they think they are on the streets of Lima. I certainly feel like I am as I swerve past the shampoos and suddenly back up to nab an open shopping cart "parking space" for a quick stop at the mini-bodega (winery) in the back of the store. I select an unfamiliar bottle of Peruvian wine, and am on my way back to the cart when I am offered a sample of "Pisco Puro" mixed with ginger ale. I take a sip and pick up a bottle to complement the wine. I avoid the Absolut sampling and the wine tastings and head toward the cleaning products, not wanting to over-do it on a Saturday morning at the grocery store. I make my way toward the frozen section, eager to see what's on the menu today. I'm the ideal target for this kind of marketing, and the feeling is mutual. The entire store is full of people sent by their companies to draw in customers by tasting their products. Unlike America, where the three or four sample carts tend to come out only on Fridays and Saturdays, on any given day you can eat (and drink) your way through Wong. I gladly accept a cup of Fanta, but deem it too traditional a product to actually purchase. I'd choose Inca Kola over Fanta any day! Mmm, but those tamales are another story. When the woman, dressed in her white dress and red polka-dotted apron explains that all I have to do is pop them in the microwave for a couple minutes, I snatch up a pack of four. No more Ramen noodles for this starving chef . . . I left those in Winona! Okay, back to reality, leaving Wong for another day. Sigh.

After checking out and getting my weekly workout on the walk back home (I inevitably buy too much to carry comfortably, but it's good for my arms), Jared and I got ready for the rodeo! Angie's mom was driving us, and arrived just as I finished putting the frozen items away. We hopped in the car and headed off, stopping at the El Polo mall to pick up some of Angie's new friends from the gym that she goes to. Turns out these friends had made some other friends the night before . . . two European world travelers that happened to be passing through Peru! It took me a while to get the details, but after learning that they didn't speak Spanish, my interest was piqued. They clearly weren't American, so I asked where they were from. Turns out one of them is from Germany and the other is from France, but somehow Luxembourg got tied in there, too, and these guys met while working together at the Xerox headquarters in Dublin! I think. It was complicated. In any case, they had worked for a couple years, but then decided to quit their jobs and see the world, with the help of a friend who works for American Airlines and gets them cheap plane tickets. They've journeyed Route 66 in America, been all over Europe, have seen parts of Asia, and are getting through as much of South America as possible before heading off to Australia. They don't really have a solid plan, they just go when and where the wind blows and the planes travel. My kind of guys!

Nico (the French guy . . . and yes he has a bit of an accent, oohlala) and I were engrossed in the pictures on our digital cameras, when all of a sudden I looked up and realized that the city of Lima had disappeared and been replaced by the Pacific coastline, complete with beaches! I asked where we were, but couldn't make out the reply. No matter, about five minutes later we were on a dirt road, coasting by a couple alpacas and the ruins of a castle built for some lover of some king or something. I just took it all in. We pulled up in front of a tall brick wall, and after paying the guard at the gate, we were in . . . rodeo here we come, yeehaw!!

I wasn't sure what it would be like, but I sure didn't expect the atmosphere to feel so familiar. It felt just like this motorcycle bar in western Wisconsin that we sometimes go to when staying at our friends' cabin. You go there and there are all these guys riding in on their Harley's, wearing their leather chaps and drinking beer as they wait for the ever famous chicken to be served. This chicken is so tender it practically slides off the bone, and there's so much food you crave a hammock, so you can lay down and focus on digesting later in the day. That's sort of how this was, except that there were no Harleys, and they were cooking beef instead of chicken, and there was live entertainment following the meal. No hammocks. In any case, it felt like a summer festival.

The actual rodeo didn't get started until about three or four hours after we were done eating, and it was probably the least entertaining part! The whole thing got started with the introduction of the "vacaros" (cowboys). There were 16 of them split into four teams of four. The first activity involved each of them racing to a log placed in the middle of the arena, donning construction helmets and work gloves, and wielding a chainsaw with enough expertise to slice off the end of the log faster than any of the other teams. This was followed by an amateur rodeo for kids age 10 and under. They came out into the middle of the ring and climbed onto the back of a sheep, who was not at all interested in pretending to be a bull! One by one the kids fell off the sheep as it tried to escape the arena, making for a very entertaining show. The sheep was fine if a bit perturbed. There was also a couple's dance-off with young bulls racing around and between the dancers (the vacaros herded them so that the couples weren't in danger of anything more than a mild thrill when a bull passed a little too close for comfort). Other highlights ensued, including when the bulls rebelled during the lasso challenge and jumped over one of the walls! Only one actually escaped, and the entertainment was paused while they focused on getting him back in the corral. Suddenly the lasso was being used for real!

All in all, it was a great time, enhanced by the international flavor of our group. I spent about a half an hour engrossed in conversation with a man from Colombia (a fellow gym member and friend of Angie's mom), talking about the situation there with the drug cartel, guerrilla warfare, and tremendous gap between the upper and lower classes, as well as the beauty of that country and the improvements that have been made in the last five years. This was a turning point in my Peruvian experience, thus far. Up until then, I had been somewhat shy about speaking in Spanish, especially since so much of my time is spent in the Embassy, where most people speak both languages. I knew I had to change this, if I wanted to get my Spanish back up to where it was when I returned from Spain two years ago, but it wasn't until I talked with the Colombian that my confidence was restored, and my tongue remembered how to pronounce the words without stammering every time it had to roll an rrrrrrr or congugate a verb. Suddenly I regained my confidence, and I was all smiles as moved in time with Carlos Vives songs on our way home. I couldn't help marveling at the fact that I was riding down the Panamericana with a Colombian, an Ecuadorian (Angie's mom), a fellow American, a guy from Germany and one from France, and finally a couple Peruvians. Some spoke all Spanish, some spoke all English, some spoke both, and some could probably throw in a bit of Quechua, German, Gaelic, French, or otherwise if they so desired!

We invited everybody over to our house for the cookout we'd been planning on having, but it turned out that most people had other plans for the night, so Angie, Jared and I said goodnight to everybody else and got dropped off at our place. We started grilling up some hot dogs and hamburgers for ourselves as we tried to get ahold of the other interns, but since the rodeo had gone long everybody else had already eaten. We decided we'd meet up a little bit later: it was time to see what a night out in Lima was like! Unfortunately, our communication has been subpar lately, due to the fact that the phone service in the intern house has been restricted! Turns out somebody forgot to pay the bill or something, so we can't make outgoing phone calls, although we can receive incoming ones. This made coordinating with others more challenging since we had to either wait around for them to call us or walk down the street to the payphone at a nearby store. In the end, it was just Angie and Jared and I that went out together. It seems every time we went someplace with the hope of running into each other, we just missed them! Maybe we'll have better luck this weekend. We're supposed to go out on Friday night, and I'm thinking we'll probably have a set time and destination to meet up.

We went down to Miraflores, home of Lima nightlife and chilled out at a lounge until a little after 2:00. The original club we were planning on going to, based on a call from the Marines, was over-crowded and nearly impossible to get into. It's called Aura, and is apparently the hottest place in town right now. We still got a bit of dancing in at the lounge, and were glad that we hadn't wasted our time waiting around to get into Aura when we found out that it was 40 soles to get in at 2:30! In all reality, that's not completely unreasonable since it's the equivalent of about $12, which is standard club fare in major U.S. cities. But we figured our money would be better spent if we came out a different weekend and got in earlier with a bigger group of people. We went home and went to bed. Turns out the Marines had reached the same conclusion, and had found somewhere else to spend their night, rather than try to get into Aura until they had to head home for their 3:00 a.m. curfew.

After an hour and a half of sleep, I dragged myself out of bed to pack up and get ready for weekend activity number two: Ica. When I knocked on Jared's door, he chose sleep over travel, so I hailed a cab and headed off to the bus station to meet Brianna and Max without him. It was probably better that way, since our trip was very much of a "let's go to Ica and see what it's all about without any prior plans" type of trip. Jared likes to be more organized in his travels, and we probably would have driven him crazy with our approach to Ica. Not that we were completely spontaneous. Max and Brianna had taken care of the bus and hotel ahead of time, and we had some ideas about what we wanted to do.

About 3.5 hours south of Lima, Ica is the home of sandboarding, a sport my fellow adventurers and I were eager to try. Having snowboarded a couple of times in the last couple years, I figured my northern snow expertise would be well-challenged on the dunes of Peru. And when I say dunes, I'm not talking about the ones back home . . . not even the famous Indiana dunes that have achieved State Park status. These Peruvian mountains of sand rival the bluffs of the Mississippi river in height and make one think that the bus took a wrong turn and wound up in the Sahara!

As soon as we got off the bus, we were snatched up by Armando, our taxi driver for the day. I'm sure he was thinking he'd have a great day of driving if he could get these money-heavy gringos before anyone else, and he was right! We were prime targets, tourists without agenda looking for a little direction. Armando was just the guy to give us that direction. As he drove us to our hotel, a charming complex centered around a foliage-lined courtyard featuring an outdoor pool and restaurant, Armando pulled out brochure after brochure for various activities that we could enjoyduring our overnight in Ica. He seemed particularly bent on showing us the bodegas, for which Ica is especially famous, and when we told him that we were interested in sandboarding, he had just the solution! It was only about 11:00 a.m., so he dropped us off at the hotel for an hour, drove off to make our sandboarding appointment for 4:00, and promised to return at 12:00 to take us to the bodegas. When he told us that the bodegas were free, and there would be a place to buy lunch, we were sold!

We went in and relaxed next to the pool for a little bit, commenting on how nice and sunny the desert air was, and wondering why we couldn't have the same kind of weather in Lima (it's often foggy here during the "winter", due to the cold air of the ocean clashing with the warmer coastal air). We decided it was for the better, since we're cooped up inside most of the week and wouldn't be able to enjoy such nice weather anyway.

But the weather in Ica was perfect! The sun was shining as we learned about the variety of wines and Piscos unique to this region, enjoying the samples at the end and purchasing souvenirs. The first bodega, Tacama, was more wine-focused, while the second was primarily Pisco. Both were very interesting, though. The second one was especially fun because of the other family on our tour! Anika had brought her 11-year old son and his friend (same age) to Ica for the weekend, and they were just as inquisitive and energetic as 11-year olds should be. Juaquin, a champion wrestler must be a handful for his mom, based on his climbing abilities (trees, grape press, you name it) and the questions he asked! Juan Diego was more stoic that his peer and lived up to the "caballero" (gentleman) quality of his name. Both were eager to try the Pisco at the end, though! Thankfully Anika only allowed them to taste the less potent samples.

After the bodegas, we dropped off our purchases at the hotel before Armando whisked us off to our dune buggy! We climbed in, donned our helmets, and away we rode! Pretty soon our oasis had been shielded by the dunes and we had become true desert dwellers; for about an hour and a half. Our guide took us up and down, provoking girly shrieks from the . . . well . . . girls in the back of the buggy. Max remained more composed, but I bet he was shrieking within.

We stopped near the top of one dune for a photo opportunity, and Brianna and I revelled in our ability to make sand angels, thereby inaugurating the first official Desert Sand Angel Club, a sister club to the official Bikini Snow Angel Club that was started by yours truly almost two years ago at the top of a miniature Swiss Alp. New members are always welcome, please leave a comment if interested. :)

From there we were taken to our sandboarding dune. To my surprise, sandboarding was easier than snowboarding. This is probably due to the lack of winter clothing, the increased friction between board and surface (making it easier to control), and my own natural sandboarding expertise. Riiiiiiight. We actually only got to go down the hill a couple of times on our feet, since our guide made us get a feel for it by sitting down first. So I guess you could say I sand-sledded, too. That was actually more fun than sandboarding when Brianna and I teamed up and double-sledded! With both of our weight combined, we flew down those dunes, and had a pretty artistic wipe-out at the end of the first try!

By the end of the day, we were wiped out ourselves! We said goodnight to Armando and headed back to the hotel to relax over some local wine and tequeños (cheese-filled tortillas dipped in guacamole) so that we'd be all ready to go the next morning. We decided to check out Huacachina, the neighboring oasis that we'd read about in our guide book. When we got there, it was just as an oasis should be: A little pond surrounded by palm trees plunked in a valley of sand. A little town has grown up around it, and there was something in the book about a 200-year old hacienda. But from what we could see, there wasn't a whole lot to do. At least not that we were willing to spend money on that day. More sandboarding seemed to be about it, and we decided that as fun as that sounded, we were not up for trekking up the colossal dunes just to slide down again. We decided that we'd be better able to appreciate Huacachina the next time around. We still have to see the famous Nazca lines (mysterious sand etchings attributed to ancient cultures of Peru), so we'll be returning to the region in the future.

We returned to Ica in a very sketchy, and exciting, three-wheel scooter with a shell (that's about the best way to describe it). We'd seen, and heard, plenty of these things roaming the streets of Peru, but never thought we'd actually be in one! Let alone fitting three people (and Max is tall!) with their bags, albeit small ones. Nevertheless, it was the only thing heading out of Huacachina, and at three soles (less than a dollar) for the five-minute ride, it definitely wasn't a bad deal. We hopped on the bus and began the 3.5-hour trek back to Lima.

Ahh, another Peruvian story come to an end. Sorry for dragging it out so long, but I figure those of you that want to skim through it can, and as for the rest of you, details are what make the story what it is! Besides, I had a lot of time to kill at work today. My computer's Microsoft programs are acting up, making it difficult to work on my Access project. They're getting it fixed, but I was glad to have some extra time this afternoon to catch up on my communication from home after the three day weekend.

Tomorrow I'll be out of the office all day, getting trained for election observing this Sunday. They sent out an email asking for volunteers, and I thought this would be a great opportunity to learn more about the culture and politics of this country. It's an interesting time to be here, as there's a lot of tension and uncertainty regarding the two candidates running for office. Alan Garcia, a the more democratic of the two, is more in line with the U.S., which may or may not be a good thing. Ollanta Humala, on the other hand is an ex-military socialist that heavily appeals to the poor of the nation (of which there are many) and asserts that he will put an end to the corruptive politics that have plagued the country for decades.

It's hard to say who is the better (or worse) candidate. As we were driving to Ica, the road passed several poor towns, and it was not uncommon to see Umala's name grafitied on the crumbling walls of buildings. The same is true for Lima, except that Garcia is the more popular choice. But despite the active voices for one candidate or another, the vote is still very uncertain. I hope to learn a lot from personally observing the process, although I'm very uncertain as to what that will entail. In any case, I can't help thinking of the upset that occured after the Madrid bombings while I was in Spain two years ago followed by the Bush/Kerry election just a few months later. Seems that politics are everywhere I go, and by jove, I think that my little Liberal-Arts-turned-Business brain is being reoriented yet again. This girl's going political!

But not before she gets dinner. You guessed it, it's the end of another day, and the (real) end of another blog. Hope you're all enjoying the nice summer weather I hear tell of in the northern hemisphere. Continue to keep in touch, I love to hear from you! And to the newest Costa Rican girls of Deltasig and Anna, thank you for my first two pieces of snail mail! They arrived at the Embassy today and are hanging on my cubicle wall. Suddenly I've got a little ownership in this cubby hole of mine. Printer-people may come and go, but I'm here to stay (until July, that is)!

Have a great day, all. Ciao!





posted by Jessica @ 2:15 PM 4 comments

Thursday, May 25, 2006

General Impressions and What-Have-You

SUMMARY:

Survived my first earthquake ever and am beginning to feel much more secure. I'm making friends with the other interns (as they begin to arrive) and the Marines. A couple reflections on my experience so far and life in general, and I'm finally caught up on the blogging! Lots to look forward to in the coming weekend . . .

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Last night I decided to make some real food as opposed to the guacamole dip and cereal I've consumed for about half my dinners, so far. I'd bought a steak and some veggies on my last trip to Wong (my favorite grocery store), so I got to work "throwin' down" in the kitchen, as Jared put it. I was just getting creative and had decided that since I didn't feel like cutting up the two extra bell peppers that I had, but I also didn't want them to spoil, I'd stuff them with my meat mixture. I so dubbed them, "Carnivorous Cannibal Bells", due to the fact that they ate (were stuffed with) seasoned meat, some mushrooms, and one of their own kind, a lovely red bell pepper that had already been chopped to bits. Poor thing. I'm quite proud of my culinary skills, hence the description. As soon as I find a way to get pictures online, you'll all be able to see the work of art that was my dinner last night.

Anyway, I had just formulated this recipe when the phone rang. Jared was already in bed, exhausted from the week, but I figured it was probably his fiancé calling, since she's pretty much the only person who calls our house right now. Imagine my surprise when the voice on the other end of the line belonged to Rotney, my visitor from a couple days earlier!! I was thrilled--it gets lonely not hearing any voices from home, after all--and we had a nice reminiscent chat before he had to go. After all, the guy is flying out for London today (Jealous!! Even whilst I sit in Peru). It's not like he could talk to me forever! Three completely different continents in one week. Nice going, Rony.

Not five minutes after I hung up the phone, IT HAPPENED (you got it, the climax of the story has arrived)!!! I was leaning against one of the arms of the chair in the living room, trying to find the best angle for my oh-so-artistic portrayal of the pepper concoction when, out of nowhere, there was a thunderous roar rolling beneath my feet! I looked up and the entire house was dancing! It continued for a few seconds, and felt just like it looks in the movies, where you can watch the ripple as it proceeds along its course. Except that here, the ripple was right beneath me and then suddenly GONE. I couldn't watch its progression, due to my lack of X-ray vision and inability to see through the walls of my house. But I could hear car alarms going off, one by one in succession as the ripple shook them, too. And the sound of thunder was present throughout the entire experience, growing fainter as it moved away.

That was the most surprising part of the whole thing. I expected there to be shaking, and I expected it to come out of nowhere, and move away quickly. But I never expected the noise! It was tremendous! I wasn't even sure that it had been an earthquake at first, it sounded so similar to an explosion that I ran to my window and looked outside for a car bomb. All this security stuff at the Embassy has apparently gotten me worked up. When I didn't see any terrorists in my yard, I went into earthquake protection mode and ran to the nearest doorway, thinking that maybe that was just the prelude to the big earthquake, or there could at least be aftershocks. I tried estimating the size of the earthquake, figuring that all the big ones you always read about are in the 7-8 range on the Richter scale. I guessed that this one was in the 5-6 range. I overestimated a bit, it being my first earthquake and all (need I explain the sample size thing again?). This one was a mere tremor, measured at 4.5 on the Richter scale. I'm scared for what a 7 feels like! You can read all about "Jess's First Earthquake, EVER" online. It's just a little blurb, with a much less significant title than what I've given it, but you can bet I printed out a copy of this article for my memoirs. A first earthquake is a once in a lifetime experience, after all!

As I near the end of my second weekend in Peru, I'm beginning to feel much more secure and am starting to find more kids my own age to play with. As nice as the full-time staff at the Embassy is, it's been fun getting to know some of the other interns and summer hires this week. Jared and I have been seeking out others "like us", and have found a couple kids of Embassy personnel that are just here for the summer. Two other interns arrived yesterday, too, so all of a sudden we've compiled what was referred to by one guy as a "gaggle of youngsters"! I'm sure that's the way it looks when we all head out to lunch together! Add in the fact that the Marines seem interested in hanging out (they've even offered to sponsor a movie night with features from their 500+ movie selection, which I am eager to take advantage of, since the intern house has little to no entertainment!), and there are more interns arriving in the coming weeks, and I'd say we're on the verge of taking over the Embassy! Jared moves out of the intern house to make space for some of the newbies (because he's here with a Fellowship, he gets to go live with the Ambassador!), but I'll be protected from future earthquakes and whatnot by Jason, a new intern arriving on Wednesday. I look forward to meeting him and breaking him into the ways of Peru/Embassy living.

Now, before I sign off for the week, there are a couple of learning and reflection points I want to write down (I haven't found my own personal perfect travel journal yet, so blogging is my substitute).

  1. Humility: I know I've been dropping names and titles left and right throughout this blog, but all that is just for show. If there's one thing that I've learned in the last year, and that has been reiterated in the last two weeks, it's that a title is just that: a title. Ideally, it's something that someone has worked to achieve, and that reflects the job that they do, and hopefully their passion. While I stood gazing wide-eyed at the Ambassador and the President (who's about as popular in Peru as Bush is in America these days), it was not with blind admiration solely because of what's on their business card, but with admiration at the story they must have lived to get to their current position.

    This is why I love travel so much. It opens up new windows and grants access to people that one might not otherwise meet. I can't help remembering the business card that I received from a man from Mali while I was taking a train from Dijón, France to Geneva, Switzerland. He didn't speak any English, and I barely spoke survival French, but we had a great trip pointing out the scenery and gleaning what facts we could about the other person. When he handed me his business card at the end of the ride, it said that he was president of something or other, but to this day I have no idea what. Regardless of what it was, to me he was just the man on the train sitting next to me, somebody with whom I could gaze at the Swiss Alps for a moment.

    I've felt the same thing time and time again in the last week. As I enter the Embassy building and flash my security-cleared ID, I think to myself, how on earth did I get here? I hope I always feel like that. As long as I remember that I'm just another person doing a job, working alongside a different person doing their job, I'll hopefully avoid those dangerous pedestals that people are so prone to build--the ones that place one person above the rest. If I can avoid the pedestals and stay humble while doing my best, then maybe I truly can "work for the common good and change the world."

  2. That brings up the question of what on earth I'm going to end up doing with my life. I keep telling people that August is "Life Decision Month" and that my options for where I'll end up have been narrowed down to the Twin Cities, Mexico, or some random place in the world. I won't go into detail on where those options came from, but it's a good problem to have and I want to thank everybody who got me to this point one more time. There's a whole entry (the first one) dedicated to everybody who's inspired and helped me to travel and learn, so I'm going to keep this one brief and just thank everybody who's reading this for your support, and all the encouraging messages I've been receiving. Whether you're family, a former (or current) educator, a fellow traveler, or just a friend/acquaintance/stranger that understands where I'm coming from, thank you. You are very much appreciated, and the inspiration behind this blog.

  3. Bathroom rating scale. For those of you who have listened to my theories and ideas regarding world bathrooms and bathroom etiquette, which are primarily based on my original international living experience in Granada, Spain, I want to assure you that the study and analysis of bathrooms continues. Because of my largely American lifestyle so far in Peru, I haven't had adequately authentic Peruvian bathroom experience to draw any solid conclusions. But I'm working on it, and I plan to address this subject in more detail in a future blog entry. I promise to make it as entertaining as possible, so stay tuned.

Alright everybody, I think I've officially caught you up now. Whew! I'll try to be more current in my postings so that they can be a bit shorter, but you know me, I'm a storyteller. It comes from the half drop of Irish blood flowing through my veins, according to my mum. There should be plenty of stories to tell come next week, too! As I already mentioned, some of the Marines seem interested in hanging out with some of the interns this weekend, so we might be getting together with them to go out dancing tonight. Otherwise some of us might just take it easy and stay in playing cards and watching movies.

It's not that we're boring, but we have a three day weekend with plenty of entertaining activities tentatively scheduled, including a bbq (sponsored by the intern house, aka Jared and me), a rodeo, some Saturday night clubbing, and a possible early morning bus ride (don't worry, I'm scoping out the safest buses) on Sunday to head down to Ica/Nazca/Cuzco. Once we get there we could be doing anything from chillin' with the humboldt penguins and flamingoes to sandboarding (like snowboarding but on sand dunes) to taking a prop jet up to see the famous ancient Nazca lines. See? Told'ja there was plenty of story potential for next week! Hope you're all doing well, keep the emails coming and I'll do my best to reply to them!

Ciao for now!

posted by Jessica @ 12:46 PM 5 comments

The First Week, Part II, and Beyond

SUMMARY:

Finished the check-in process at the Embassy, which involved running all over the Embassy, scheduling appointments and meeting almost everyone, including the DCM (Deputy Chief of Mission), who's second in command after the Ambassador. Asked for work to do and am now on my way to becoming the Microsoft Access guru at the Embassy (never learned it before)! Attended a reception at the DCM's house, where I had my first Pisco Sour and met Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for WHA Charles Shapiro. My friend Rotney came to visit for a night. We met the President of Peru (Toledo) and had an Ambassador sighting to make the most of Rotney's short time here and start the week off right.

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Those of you who saw me during my student days (not so very long ago) may recall that one of the easiest ways to locate me was to stand in the middle of campus and wait for me to run by. There always seemed to be an errand to run, a class to get to, or a meeting to attend. The first couple days at the Embassy were the same, so I quickly felt at home.

After my initial meeting at the Ambassador's house, I returned to the Embassy and dove right into the rest of the check-in process. I met with the IPC and ISC people to get my internet log-on information; I met with the RSO people to get my badge and be submitted to more security information then I ever cared to know (although earthquake protocol and numbers for decent taxi services were much appreciated); I met with the Health Unit only to discover that the typhoid, etc. vaccines that I got before leaving the States were not enough if I want to chill out in the Amazon (and I do)--I'll need yellow fever and malaria vaccines, too. But most of all, I met with the DCM. Now for those of you who don't speak Embassy-eze, DCM stands for Deputy Chief of Mission, and is the second highest position at the Embassy, after the Ambassador, of course.

Phyllis (The DCM's first name, and yes I'm dropping names right now) is really down to earth and I found it very easy to talk to her. By the time we met on Tuesday afternoon, I had been pretty much all over the Embassy and had a good idea of the culture and operations. However, I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to be given real work to do. Jared, the other intern, apparently had all kinds of projects to work on and receptions to attend, while I seemed to be left to my own devices, wandering the building and working through my check-in sheet. Part of the problem was that my supervisor was just returning from a family funeral and my unofficial sponsor was new to our department, making my entry into the internship a little disorganized. So when the DCM asked what I was hoping to accomplish professionally, I told her that I'd like to get some more hands-on HR work, and that I planned on mentioning that to my supervisor when I finally met her the following day. She took this information and gave me a couple of concrete examples of projects I could possibly help with, for which I was very grateful. I left our meeting feeling confident that this would not just be one of those paper-pushing/photocopying internships that you sometimes hear about. I'll spend my summer working hard, and will have solid experience to fall back on when I get home.

Being tossed in relatively on my own wasn't all bad, though. Like I said, I was able to get to know a lot of different people in different departments, and used my status as a Midwesterner as a contact agent. Those of you from Minnesota are well-aware of Wisconsin pride, but it's a bit foreign to most of the employees here, since many of them are from eastern and southern parts of the state. They seemed to get a kick out of my loyalty to the Packers and apparent comfort with being labeled a "Cheesehead".

I had to change one habit by my second day, though. Although the climate here is much like what I left, but with less rain, I could not seem to convince people that I wasn't cold as I wandered around in short sleeves. I quickly learned that for my own peace of mind and others' physical comfort (they literally got cold for me), I should always have a light jacket or a sweater with me when donning my "summer" shirts. Unfortunately, I only have one jacket and one sweater. Fortunately, many of the outfits I packed are long-sleeved. Even better, there's plenty of shopping to do in Lima, including lots of apparel made from the oh-so-soft baby alpaca wool that's native to the country. Monday is Memorial Day and I don't have to work (we get both American and Peruvian holidays). Guess what I'll be doing, wink wink?

On Wednesday, I finally met with my supervisor. She promised to find work for me to do, so I was thrilled when I was asked to help the Financial Management Office (FMO) with a project involving benefit distribution. Well, at least that's how I define it. It doesn't have as much to do with HR as it does computer application development, but it's related, so it's a start. And many of you know that I'm a computer geek wannabe, so I'm content for the moment. The crux of the project is that I have to create an application in MS Access that will make utility payments for all of the Embassy housing more efficient. Right now, they're using MS Excel, which is alright but can take forever to fill in data by hand, which also makes it more mistake-prone. There was just one problem with this project being given to me: I don't know how to use Access. But neither did anyone else that was involved, and since I'm the one who has the time to learn right now (and the interest), I'm their girl. I'm actually having a lot of fun staring at the computer screen for hours at a time, reading the Microsoft Access "One-Stop Reference" book as if it's the latest New York Times Best-Selling Novel. Like I said, computer geek wannabe. And I've been wanting to learn Access forever. I'd say I just got my first internship-based transferable skill. Ha.

On Wednesday evening, I got to go to my first reception, at none other than the DCM's house. It's as luxurious as the Ambassador's house, although less museum-like and more homey. I could definitely enjoy the perks of either of those jobs. I'd especially enjoy the personal drivers. As I tell people here, my driving in the States isn't that great. No way do I want to drive in a foreign country!

Anyway, this reception was in honor of Principal Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for WHA Charles Shapiro, who was briefly visiting Lima. Sounds fancy, no? It is. Based on what I can tell, he's pretty much second in line to Condaleeza Rice (fondly referred to in the intern house as "Condee"). Okay, no, he isn't, I lied. But from this link, you can see that he's one of the high branches on a very confusing tree of officials. I'm still new to this government hierarchy thing, you'll have to forgive me. In any case, I got to sit next to the guy, and he spoke to me directly on several occasions. I even got a huge laugh from the crowd when he turned to me and said "Isn't that right?" with such gusto that I replied with equal enthusiasm "Oh yeah!" before realizing that I wasn't quite sure what I had just agreed to. But it seemed safe to say that he wasn't playing one of those childish pranks where you ask a person to "just say yes" only to lock them into an unsavory, and potentially compromising, positions. He was too nice to pick on me like that. I continued enjoying my Pisco Sour.

Now, as this was my first Pisco Sour, I must give due acknowledgement to this famous beverage of Peru. Pisco, a type of grape-based brandy, is famous for its unusual flavor, and is used in several varieties of drink. The most famous of these is Pisco Sour, which somehow involves whipped egg whites to create a frustratingly elusive white foam on top. No matter how hard you try to get a good impression of the foam, it dissolves before you can dissect the nuances of its flavor. When your lips touch the citrus-yellow base of the drink, however, they're received by such a potent zing of taste that they suddenly recoil and are hesitant to return!

Basically what I'm saying is that Pisco Sour is a strong drink! As I've been made fun of for saying this out loud among my fellow Pisco Sour drinkers, I must admit that one glass of the stuff does not constitute an adequate sample size. In fact, my college education taught me that I should ideally consume no less than 29 more Pisco Sours before asserting that it is indeed strong. Only with 30 samples can I have statistically conclusive results. I'd say the odds are in my favor, though, as it took me over an hour to finish one Pisco Sour, which was only slightly bigger than two shot glasses worth of beverage (including the foam). The wine I had afterward took me less than 20 minutes, and I was eating at the time. I'll stick to my guns. That drink was fuerte (strong)!

The rest of my week was relatively uneventful. I began learning Access and attended a CLO (Community Liasion Office)-sponsored Happy Hour, where I tried my first Cusqueña beer, which I prefer to the Pisco Sour. This was a good opportunity to get to know some of the other Embassy personnel a little better, and dinner was delicious! On Saturday, Jared and I took advantage of a CLO-sponsored bike tour in Miraflores, which was my first excursion to a different part of Lima. It's beautiful! Miraflores is one of the richest neighborhoods, situated right on the coast and home to much of the Lima nightlife. It's also one of the key places that the Embassy houses its long-term personnel. Their apartments are magnificent! I might have to take the Foreign Service Officer exam come spring and become a full-time government girl. We shall see.

On Sunday, I had my first visitor in Peru. My friend Rotney, who is half Peruvian, was in the country visiting his relatives, and we had made plans to meet up before leaving the States. The details were kind of sketchy due to my limited communication mediums here, but I had his flight time, and figured there couldn't be too many flights coming from Cusco at the same time. I called my favorite taxi driver, Carlos (He has a great selection of music that he blares at top volume as we groove down the Pan-American highway! He wants to go dancing sometime, so stay tuned for future developments (don't worry, I'll be safe about it)), and we headed to the airport. I didn't expect to feel so excited over seeing a familiar face so soon in my trip, but I was! Rotney and I just became friends about six months ago, through school, but he's a great guy to hang out with and I would recommend him as an international travel buddy any day!

We decided to live it up as best we could in the short time we had (made even shorter by me having to go to work), so once we got his stuff dropped off at my house and had relaxed for about a half hour, we headed out on the town. The first order of business was dinner, so Rotney asked the taxi driver (not Carlos) for a recommendation. As he described a restaurant, I thought I recognized it as a place I'd seen on my bike tour the day before. Sure enough, it was this beautiful multi-gazebo like structure built out over the water so that you eat with the waves crashing directly below you. I asked if it was expensive or cheap, and when the driver replied "mas o menos", we took that to mean in-between, so we said we'd try it. I'm still not sure who's standards the driver was basing his assessment on, but I'm glad we went, no matter how much it cost (and it reality, for the amount and quality of food we got, it really wasn't that bad)!

I was enjoying my meal and the view of the surfers catching the last wave before the sun finally set, when all of a sudden Rotney's eyes got wide and his jaw dropped as he stared over my shoulder. I asked what was the matter, and he was barely able to mutter, "Oh my God, it's Toledo, el presidente!" I didn't believe him, but I turned around, and sure enough, there was a group of people entering the room. I vaguely recognized one of them, but it didn't really hit me until I saw the guy next to him with one of those Secret Service-style wires attached to his ear: The President of Peru had entered the building!! As I sat staring in awe, Rotney gathered his wits enough to ask for "un fototito" (a small picture). The President looked slightly annoyed (I'm sure he gets that all the time), but conceded by say "muy rapido" (very quickly). I started blundering around for my camera, but wasn't fast enough, so we only got one picture. I was still in such a daze that I think I'm staring off in the wrong direction in the picture, but that's okay. I'm demanding a copy, just to prove it happened. We finished our meal, fully aware that the President of Peru was sitting a mere four feet away, eating his own dinner like a normal person.

We explored some of the sights a bit more, ending up in Barranco, another neighborhood known for its nightlife. After such an experience, it seemed only natural that Rotney and I find a bar and watch the presidential debate (between the two guys that are fighting for Toledo's job), so that's just what we did. It was a very multi-culturally political evening, that continued into the next day. Rotney, being a political buff himself, was fascinated with my internship at the Embassy, so I offered to take him with me in the morning. I was giving him a tour of the building, and had just finished showing him the door that leads to the section where the Ambassador works, when the elevator opened and off stepped the Ambassador himself!! We said hello to him as we scurried to catch the elevator ourselves, not even realizing who he was until it was too late! I hadn't officially met him yet (which is strange, according to other employees), and had only seen a picture online that completely belies his size. I was thrown off by the fact that he's at least a foot taller than his wife, so I was expecting a much shorter man! Nevertheless, Rotney and I shared personal space with two of the most important men in the country, within the span of about 14 hours. I'd say that was a great start to my second week, which has been another good one so far! More on that later, time to go home. Besos a todos, ciao!






posted by Jessica @ 12:27 PM 6 comments

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

The First Week, Part I

SUMMARY:

Have to relearn the alphabet with all the acronyms at the Embassy, but I got a "@state.gov" email address, so that's pretty neat. Jared, the other intern was a great host and we mainly spent our first weekend sitting around getting to know each other. The security on the house and at the Embassy is intense! It's fun having classified access to certain places, though. On my first morning, I got to attend a meeting at none other than the Ambassador's house! I enjoyed the coffee and banana bread and stole a napkin with the official Department of State seal as a souvenir. In general, I'm getting settled in and am learning fast, even getting used to the traffic!

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

APHIS
CLO
CONS
DEA
DHS
ECON
FAS
FCS
FMO
GSO
HR
HU
IRM
MAO
NMRCD
NAS
PAS
POL
RSO

There you have it. In less than a week, I have become proficient in a new language we at the Embassy like to refer to as Alphabet Soup. The place is filled to the brim with acronyms. The ones listed above refer to the various departments housed at the embassy, with MAO (pronounced "mow", like cow with an "m") being the most important in my opinion. But that's just because I'm the MAO intern, so I'm a tad biased. MAO stands for Management Affairs Office, and is one of the more confusing acronyms because it's apparently unique to our Embassy. Most other places refer to this department as MA/C (Management Affairs Consular) or simply Admin. But it's all the same. I know some of meanings behind the other acronyms, too, but it's less important to know what the acronym stands for than what it does, since nobody uses the full title anyway. Knowing the individual words of the title is just showing off.

My first couple of days here were mainly spent learning all about the Embassy and visiting the various offices to get all kinds of information, ranging from the proper procedure during an earthquake (a common occurence, I'm told) to how to access my new "@state.gov" email address. Oohlala! No worries, I'm only be using my State Department email for work purposes, so you can all continue sending messages to my gmail account. I don't know how quickly I'll respond, since I have limited personal Internet time at work and no Internet access at home, but I'll do my best to be prompt.

When I first arrived at the intern house, I was greeted by Jared, the only other intern here at the moment. It was Friday afternoon, but since I was tired from the trip down and he was tired from work, we decided not to go out and explore too much that night. He only speaks a little bit of Spanish, and I wasn't familiar with Lima or the culture, so after running to the grocery store so I could get the essentials, we settled down for the night and chatted until bedtime. He's more of a talker than I am (I know it's hard to believe), so it didn't take long to get to know one another. We were going to go down to Miraflores (the upscale, touristy part of town, right on the coast) on Saturday, but Jared hadn't stocked up on soles (the local currency), and I only had dollars, so we just stuck to wandering around our neighborhood, San Borja, which was fine with me. I later learned that we could have paid with dollars, since they're accepted it all the parts of Lima that Americans frequent, but it was good to scope out where I live, too. It's a nice neighborhood with plenty to do: Malls, shops, bowling alleys, theaters, you name it, they've got it.

After the week of graduating and moving from Winona to Milwaukee, and then packing up to fly down to Lima for three weeks, an utterly relaxing weekend was welcome. I got settled into my new house, which is very nice and practically a fortress. The Embassy is big on security, go figure. With a twelve-foot wall tops by iron barbs and electric fencing, not to mention the five keys required to enter through the two front doors and the iron gate (there are about 12 more keys to get in and out of the other house entrances, and to open the iron gates on the windows), we're pretty cozy. That didn't stop me from having a bad dream about someone breaking into the house the other night, though! Every time I started to fall asleep, I thought I heard a creak and got nervous all over again!

The house itself has four bedrooms and two bathrooms, not including the maid's quarters located off the back yard (No, we do not have a maid, although we could hire one if we wanted to. I'll do my own dishes, thank you very much.). There are beautiful gardens that come complete with the saguaro cacti that are prevalent throughout the city! I haven't seen any tarantulas yet, but I did watch a hummingbird and a sparrow-like bird fight over a hibiscus (I think), even though there was plenty to go around!

By Monday morning, I had been listening to Jared toss around acronyms fluently and mention names of other people at the Embassy. I was eager to get to work, and woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed with my business attire all pressed and laid out the night before. I was too preoccupied with the enormity of the fortress-like building to be too nervous about the intense investigation of our shuttle van as we pulled into the employee lot. Every vehicle that enters the compound is locked in this iron cage (along with its occupants) and submitted to a thorough investigation that includes looking under the hood and in the trunk and running a special kind of swab along the vehicle to be tested for traces of explosive materials. If everything clears, the gates open and the vehicle carries us the remaining 50 feet to the employee entrance situated under by a large cast iron seal of the U.S. Embassy in Lima, Peru. You can imagine the size of my eyes as I stepped out of the van.

Once in the building, Jared and the other passengers of our shuttle got me past the Peruvian security guard and the U.S. Marine checking everyone out, and I was taken up to check in at the main lobby since I didn't have my official U.S. Embassy Security Cleared American badge yet. That thing rocks (except for the picture, blah)! It gets me wherever I want to go with a mere entrance of a code at the classified doors, or a smile at the guard at the Embassy entrances. It's an impressive feeling, being able to go where others can't. But that's a whole different topic that I'm saving for a different entry.

Jared took me up to the MAO section, where I saw where I was going to work and met Licia, my sponsor and the woman I'd been exchanging emails with for the last month or so. She explained how things worked, introduced me to some people, and showed me my cubicle, which would be a very nice cubicle if it wasn't the one where they have both of the printers (b&w and color) and all of the specialty paper. There's not a lot of excess space and no pens and if somebody prints on the color printer the fan blows directly into my eyes. Amazingly, it only took me about a day and a half to tune out the contant buzzing and blowing and traffic of people to come and pick up their documents. Unfortunately it's also made me somewhat antisocial since I'm so busy tuning out the distractions that I sometimes forget to acknowledge people when they say hi to me. Oh well, ya can't win them all. I'm getting better at balancing the two extremes and am even becoming fond of my little crowded space. After all, I don't have to go far to pick up my printed documents, and I've stored some Werther's candies and Take 5's in one of my drawers so there's always a treat at hand (thanks Mom)! I've decided that will be my first rule for all future cubicles I inhabit: Stock up on treats.

My first order of business was to fill out a bunch of forms to give to Licia, and to begin the check-in process, which I just finished yesterday, since it involved scheduling appointments and running all over the building and meeting people and going to briefings and such. The first person that I talked to was Nancy, who works for GSO (General Services Office) and pretty much rocks if you ask me. GSO is in the MAO department, so she told me that I would be helping plan the Fourth of July reception, and asked if I was interested in attending a meeting an hour later. I said yes, of course, and agreed to meet her downstairs by the infamous Dunkin' Donuts case (Right by the entrance, with a can to deposit 3 soles (about $0.70) if you want one. I haven't caved yet. I can get Dunkin' Donuts at home any day. I go for the ever-so-scrumptious potatoes in the cafeteria instead.) at 9:30. Little did I know that I was about to take my first field trip! I thought the meeting was in the building, so you can bet I was curious when we headed outside and got in a car. We drove for about 20 minutes, and just when I was beginning to wonder if we were ever going to get wherever we were going, we pulled up in front of this huge, yellow, museum-like building with the usual iron gates and security guards to greet us. As we got out of the car, I leaned over to another worker, Jennifer, and asked where we were. My eyes had begun to return to their usual size after recovering from that morning, but they shot wide open all over again when I learned that I was on my way into the Ambassador's house!!!!

I know, I know, I got you all excited, but no I did not get to meet the Ambassador that morning. However, I did drink Ambassadorian (I made that up) coffee, and eat Ambassadorian banana bread, and swiped a napkin with the official Department of State seal for my journal. And to top it off, the Ambassador's wife is one of the committee members and was present at the meeting, as well. Sounds pretty impressive, no? Well, in the interest of proper perspective, I must say that my only role in helping to plan the banquet thus far has been to Google Fourth of July mylar balloons and hanging thing-a-ma-jigs for about two hours. And I think the only reason I got that task was because they wanted me to feel included. Jennifer roled her eyes when she heard about it, though, and Nancy and I have since bonded further, so I'm hopeful that there will be more for me to do as the holiday approaches and plans develop. As we headed back to the Embassy, I was eager to meet more people, get my Internet access, and get to work!

I should note here that Peruvian driving is by far the worst I've ever experienced, by the way. It tops Jamaica, which had me fearing for my life about 90% of the time I was there. But I've come to realize that if I had gone to Jamaica for more than just spring break, I might actually have gotten used to it. Granted, they drive on the wrong side of the street (former English colony), but Peru is much worse, and after about seven days of gripping the handles till my knuckles are white, I learned to relax and appreciate the underlying rhythm that makes the chaos possible. The secret to Peruvian driving is to anticipate that cars will straddle your lane, or cut three inches in front of your own moving vehicle, or turn right from the far left lane in front of oncoming traffic, or squeeze next to your car on a one-lane on-ramp. I, of course, would never drive down here myself. I'm not that good of a driver in the US, where there's order and structure, let alone in Peru! But I wholeheartedly trust that the taxis will get me from place to place or else I won't pay them.

On that note, it's time to start packing up my stuff to catch my shuttle home for work. I'm looking forward to a relaxing evening of watching Memoirs of a Geisha. A woman from another department lent it to me after she saw me reading the book on the elevator last week, so I'm looking forward to a relaxing evening before heading to bed at my usual time of 10:00 or 10:30 or so (such a structured life I lead, not like in school when bedtime varied from 10:30 - 3:00 a.m. depending on the workload). There's still plenty more to tell from my first week here, so I'll pick it up where I left off tomorrow morning and will hopefully have you all caught up by the end of the day! I hope all is going well with all of you, keep in touch!

posted by Jessica @ 6:53 AM 3 comments

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Flying South

SUMMARY:

Got to O'Hare, just in time, but then my flight was delayed. Enjoyed people-watching and sipping coffee to relax (I know, that's not how caffeine's s'posed to work) after a hectic week of moving. Made a few friends on the way down, including a Brazilian business man who offered to show me around Rio di Janeiro, and a girl named Jessica as I took my first steps on Peruvian ground. One of my bags got lost, but my driver was waiting with my name on a sign (another life dream accomplished!) to take me home.

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Whew! Well it has certainly been an interesting couple of weeks! I'm definitely behind on my updates, so I'll do my best to catch up, but it might take a couple posts. It's strange to think that such a short time ago, I was frantically getting things together and taking care of the last few details before I left to catch my plane in Chicago. I barely got to the airport in time to check my luggage. As I stepped into the security line at O'Hare, I knew I was on my way! All I had to do was get through the metal detector, grab my X-rayed items, and get to my gate. Once on the plane, I could relax.

I was a bit tired and cranky on the trip to O'Hare, namely because it had been such a strenuous week, trying to get everything moved out of Winona, and tossing it in my room (and other various locations around the house), but also because I hadn't had any coffee yet, and by 2:00 pm I was beginning to develop that ever-dredded caffeine addict's headache. I know, I know, I've been saying for two years that I need to cut down on the coffee. But you have to understand that there's a direct correlation between the time of year/amount of work/amount of caffeine consumed, and I was just coming of the high season . . . finals/graduation.

So you can imagine my relief when I made it through security and got to my gate only to find out that my flight was delayed! Yes, I said relief. Most people would be upset, but with only a half hour before the scheduled takeoff time, I had been concerned about boarding my plane. The delay gave me a chance to zip over to Starbucks (conveniently located right across from my gate) and grab a mocha, which I proceeded to nurse for approximately the next hour. I did a little bit of reading and a lot of people watching (airports are great for that), and enjoyed the sarcastically humorous announcements from the American Airlines staff, reporting that the plane was somewhere on the O'Hare grounds, but the service crew was taking their sweet old time prepping the plane, and the tower had readjusted the takeoff time but "believe me, it's not realistic". Seriously, the crew had an attitude that probably reflected the attitude they were receiving from ornery customers! They weren't rude, just sarcastic. And once we finally boarded the plane, they were flippant and flighty (no pun intended), making comments like "we wanna get out of here as quickly as possible, so let's all cooperate" and "yeah, so we're headed to Miami but our flight safety video is only in English and French. No Spanish, sorry 'bout that." I, having remedied the caffeine shortage and not minding that my 9.5 hour layover in Miami was being shortened, was able to thoroughly enjoy every moment. We scurried out of there and were on our way!

As we took off I discovered I was sitting next to a Brazilian business man, on his way home to Rio di Janeiro before skirting over to Santiago, Chile and Buenos Aires, Argentina. Well this was just a fabulous tribute to my first excursion in South America! We chatted a bit, until the in-flight movie came on and he went to sleep (I watched the movie). He woke up as we were beginning to descend, and after chatting a bit more, he pulled out his business card and told me to give him a call if I headed to Brazil. With a "ciao" and a wave, we parted ways in Miami.

Since my flight had been delayed, my layover in Miami was shorter than anticipated . . . only about 7.5 hours instead of 9.5! I wandered around for a bit, enjoying the humid Florida warmth coming from the entrance. I talked to a couple that was also flying to Lima (Their flight was delayed due to fog in the Lima airport--I've since learned that this happens several times a week at this time of year in Lima. The fog lingers throughout the winter.) and chatted for a bit with a guy my age who was on his way north, having just come from Lima. After journaling for a little bit, I gathered my two carry-on bags and my pillow into a little nest, wrapped my infamous fleece blanket around me, and went to sleep. I slept surprisingly well, considering the bright lights of the airport combined with a mix of overhead music and music playing in one of the nearby restaurants. To top it off, the local time was announced every fifteen minutes. I must have been tired though, because I drifted off almost immediately.

When the local time was announced as 4:45, I decided I should get myself up and refreshed so I'd be ready for check-in. I was still a bit groggy when I got up to the desk, but I made it through the mixture of Spanish and English and was informed that both my bags had been transferred successfully to Copa Airlines (I flew American for the first leg of the trip). After another security check and a quick stop at the gift shop, I boarded the plane, and was off. I couldn't help blowing a kiss out the window at my homeland, as the engines roared and I was lifted off of U.S. soil for the next three months. Technically, I guess the Embassy counts as U.S. soil, but that didn't occur to me in the sentimentality of the moment.

I had one more layover before Peru, in Panama City, Panama. I didn't leave the airport, so I guess I can't add Panama to the international tally quite yet, but I did get to see the Panama Canal from the air! Very exciting! There are ships galore surrounding the entrance to the canal, and it felt like a historical moment, perhaps because I remember learning about the construction of the canal in a distant grade school history class. I snapped plenty of pictures, fully appreciating the symbolic passage from north to south, Atlantic to Pacific. After sitting in Tocumen airport for about 45 minutes, I boarded the final plane. Destination: Lima, Peru.

The flight went quickly, since I napped much of the way, and was entertained by entertained by the little boy sitting in front of me the rest of the time. So I was caught by surprise when I glanced out the window and, instead of the clouds I was expecting, I saw a myriad of winding rivers. I wondered if any of them might be the Amazon, having no clue where I was or what the Amazon might look like from that height. When I saw the river that I think was the Amazon, I realized just how off my concept of distance and size had been. I may have been wrong, but whatever it was, this river was much bigger than the others I had been look at. I am sure of one thing, though: I have seen the tallest mountain in Peru. The pilot announced it as we were flying by, and although it didn't seem that much taller than its neighboring snow-capped peaks, it was still very impressive. The clouds returned as we began to decend, so that when they suddenly parted and I saw how low I was and that the mountains had been replaced by the wavy Pacific coast, I gasped out loud! Within minutes, we were touching down. Bienvenido a Lima.

I disembarked, and as I was walking toward the baggage claim, taking in all the sites, a guy came up to me and said "You love your pillow". I looked down at my arm, clutching it with excitement and smiled as I explained that I'd had to sleep in the airport the night before. His girlfriend came up and we began to chat as we stood in line for the customs check. Who would have guessed her name would be Jessica?! I took it as a sign that I was in the right place. We exchanged numbers as we waited for our bags. All but one of mine had come out by the time they left, promising to show me around if I called, and as we said our good-byes, an airport employee came up and asked if I was missing a bag. It turns out I was! I'd been so engaged in chatting that I hadn't even realized the same bags were going around the carousel unclaimed and mine wasn't one of them! I filled out a form, giving them the only contact information I had: My boss's number and the Embassy address. Since there was nothing more I could do, I headed out to the receiving area. I grinned as the doors parted and an old dream came true: There was my driver, holding my name on a sign, waiting to take me home.

posted by Jessica @ 8:41 AM 0 comments

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Expectations

Transferred from original diary
(posted May 11, 2006)

SUMMARY:

Alright, the nervousness is gone for the moment, now I'm excited. Here are my expectations.

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

It's May 11th!!! Almost 1 am, and I'm considering going to bed and finishing the packing/Peru prep tomorrow. It shouldn't take too long, I don't think, but we'll see. I have a tendency of underestimating the time it takes to complete things. Anyway, in about 13 hours, I'll be on my way to the airport, heading south for the winter, literally! So here are some of the things I'm expecting/imagining might happen in my voyage:


MY ARRIVAL:
1. I will arrive in Lima after more than 20 hours of travel (I have a huge layover in Miami). I will make it through customs with flying colors, impressing the officials with my impeccable-ish Spanish.

2. I will be greeted by a driver, holding a sign with my name. I will ask for the sign as a souvenir, and the driver will instantly become my first resource for Peru info.3. I will be taken to the intern house, where Jared (another intern) will greet me and show me the ropes. He'll put my fears at ease, show me where to get food, and he and I will become fast friends for the duration of our time in Lima together, and beyond.


GENERAL EXPECTATIONS
1. Earthquakes. Peru is earthquake-prone, so I'll be on my guard for tremors all summer.

2. Beaches. Lima is said to have beautiful beaches, although it's not a very sunny place. I hope I live near the coast and the water's warm enough to swim in.

3. Peruvians are supposedly really friendly, especially the men when there are single women. I plan on salsa dancing a bit, but nothing too much more crazy than that. I'm headed to Peru in a professional context, and want to use this opportunity to learn about expatriation and government operations. I'm not just going to have a good time with friends and learn the culture, although I'm hoping there'll be plenty of that, too.

4. The food is apparently some of the best in the world, from what I've read and been told. I want to try guinea pig (yes, eating it!), and the local drinks. I've heard good things about Peruvian beer.

5. Activities I'd like to try: Sandboarding (like snowboarding, but on sand), skiing in the Andes, eating an Andes Candy in the Andes, going to the zoo in Lima, basking in the hot springs and arab baths (hopefully starting my first weekend there!), shopping, tours of Machu Pichu and the Nazca Lines, maybe a tour of the Amazon, trips to Chile and Argentina, and maybe Brazil (I really want to go to Iguassu Falls, in Brazil).


There are plenty of other expectations that I have, but I need to get some sleep if I'm going to be ready to go on time. This is it, it's coming true! Look out world, I'm goin' to Peru!

posted by Jessica @ 3:04 PM 0 comments

The Eve of Peru

Transferred from original diary
(posted May 10, 2006)

SUMMARY:

Getting nervous about leaving, but it will be okay. I can do it.

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Well, here I am, the night before leaving for Peru. It's been an interesting week: I graduated five days ago, created a few final Winona memories, moved home (in several stages), and have spent much of today getting ready for my trip. And by "getting ready", I really mean shopping. As I stood looking at myself in the dressing room at Banana Republic, sporting a new pair of "professional" pants that I hope to wear in Lima, I realized just how therapeutic a trip to my favorite mall can be.

I was surprised at my range of emotions this week. I honestly didn't think that I would miss Winona much until August or September, when school begins without me. But instead, I found myself calling one of my roommates from this past year to reminisce and mourn the "end of an era" not 15 miles out of Winona. She moved out two days before me, and I knew she'd understand the knot in my throat as I watched the Mississippi and all it's familiar landmarks go by.

Both of us are looking forward to summers chock full of international fun, and a lot of work (she has an internship in British Columbia). But as excited as we are, we are both full of uncertainty about what the upcoming months may bring. It would be so easy just to enroll in a few more classes or find a job in Winona, just to stay in our comfort zone. We'd be welcomed, and we'd know how everything works, but we wouldn't be satisfied. I know we're not alone, by any means, that's just the real world in action. It's a lot less structured than the college life, which makes for all kinds of adventure and excitement. But it's very unnerving at the same time! What I wouldn't give to be going out for one last "wings" night in Winona right now . . .

I'm just scared, that's all. At times I'm borderline terrified at the thought of leaving tomorrow. My heart races and my breathing speeds up as I think about taking the shuttle to the Embassy Monday morning and filling out all the paperwork. I just hope I have all my documents in order. I have very little idea what I'm getting into.

But I keep giving myself little reminders that seem to help. I think of those pants that I bought today, and I know that I look the part. I think of Jared, another intern who will apparently be there to greet me and assist me when I arrive at the house (others have done this, so why can't I?). I remind myself that THEY chose ME, and that I filled out my application honestly and accurately, so I must be suited for the job. And I think about my personality. I'll have all weekend to get adjusted, to introduce myself to other interns, and to get a grasp of the situation before even setting foot in the Embassy. I'll be okay. I can do this, I just have to swallow the fear, take a deep breath, and proceed like the confident young (bilingual) business woman that I am. Man, with all the pep talks I'm giving myself this week, I should look into a career as a motivational speaker!

Thank you all for your continued support. Let's get going, and as my dad said, "Have an adventure!"


posted by Jessica @ 2:55 PM 0 comments

One Week to Go . . . A Dedication

Transferred from original diary
(posted May 7, 2006)

SUMMARY:

Thanks to everybody who has supported me throughout the years, and shared in my little adventures. We're off to Peru!

FOR DETAIL LOVERS, ONLY:

Welcome to my little Peruvian documentary. I'm headed to Lima for the summer for an internship at the U.S. Embassy, complete with an official government ID, security clearance (ya know, the "if I told you I'd have to kill you" type), and a driver that's going to meet me at the airport with a sign!!!! I've always wanted one of those!

I have a lot of ideas floating around in my head about what I should expect and my roommate, a fellow world traveler by nature, had the excellent suggestion that I should write down my thoughts on the trip BEFORE I leave in the interest of creating a complete synopsis of my experience.

While I'm on the topic of inspired ideas, I'll also use this juncture (I like academic words--I just got my Bachelors two days ago!) to credit a very brilliant friend with the idea for this online diary. Now, truth be told, when he called me to propose that I blog my trip online, I was already halfway into the first sentence of this entry (I used a similar online diary program when traveling through Spain two years ago, before he knew me). But he sounded so excited and said, "I have a golden idea and you have to do it, and you have to give me the credit, all I want is the credit," with such enthusiasm, that I willingly oblige. I mean, the guy was thinking about me and how best to enhance my trip while on his own little journey through the "Crossroads of America" (Indiana), and I really can't think of a reason not to credit him with being brilliant in general. Thanks, sir!

Alright, since I'm giving thanks to people, I guess I'll throw out a general thank you to everybody who made this adventure possible. To my elementary school geography teachers who taught me names of locations I never thought I'd visit, to my high school friends who dared to dream of visiting those places with me, to the girls in college who became my travel buddies and answered with a resounding "YES" every time I said, "Let's go to _______. Right now!" (we were usually in the midst of a major study session and seriously considering dropping out of school). To the fellow travelers I've met along the way, both in my travels and back at home, and to the travelers-to-be that picked my brain and allowed me to reminisce for hours about my own experiences so that they could feel more confident about what was yet to come in their journeys.

Most of all, to my parents, who value the education of travel and have always let me go so that I can take part in a world that must seem so threatening to a parental mind. Who continuously mask their concern and worry with phrases like "You can't live life under a shell" and "The world is your oyster".

Thank you all. This journal is for you, and would not be possible without you. I love you. Vamanos a Peru!

Until the next adventure . . .

posted by Jessica @ 2:50 PM 1 comments