Bigote

Dear Diary
-As a person of no particular skills at this time- in a country that has castrated me via it having a different language- it is amazing how many things can occur or not occur when you least expect them. After a relatively productive morning slumming in the library and the municipality putting together some surveys for the good people of Illimo I retired to my home. At exactly 1 PM the daily task of seeing how much food my host family can put in front of me to see if I can eat it all commenced….each day at 1 PM there is a serving of food put in front of me that can only lead me to believe that they have full intentions of at some point roasting me over an open fire. I believe they mock me when I exercise, they scoff at how much water I drink, and they laugh as I groan through the last bites of my lunch time feeding. I literally have to retire to my chambers every day and lay quietly on my bed as all blood resources in my body rush to my stomach area to aid in digestion. Today was no different-after laying still for an hour half way between sleep and daydreaming I hoisted my swollen body of my child size bed and trudged downstairs. My mindset had shifted from high energy optimism to the sole thought of how sloth like I felt-if I had the good courage to put a finger down my gullet to promote a clearing of my belly I would have. I do not have the fortitude for such a thing….as I sat on the couch pretending to read the Peruvian newspaper ….a blur of music and activity crept towards our home. I of course sprung into immediate rube action and retrieved my camera….it was a procession of a large group….made mostly of women bantering down the street in different costumes and groups…with banners promoting adult literacy here in my town. There were some relatively disturbing sites but all and all a festive affair…. a pickup truck with very loud music followed behind…….all said and done a friendly diversion from my afternoon boredom. With that momentum behind me I decided to have a walk down to the town square-as I approached I realized the group had all formed in front of the town municipality and were now getting ready to present a number of traditional dances and such for the higher ups. I of course once spotted was waived over in my shorts, t-shirt, and only beard in town motif. Where I stood up front as a series of Marinara dances now began to unfold. At this moment I knew I was to be tried in a setting of the most awkward nature….I made a few futile attempts to slink away but was lovingly blocked by people they seem to have assigned to me just to ensure I suffer as many rube like moments as possible. Inevitably I was summonsed out into the middle of the town square with roughly 300 people watching and handed a handkerchief (the weapon of a Marinara dancer). I spun like a top and bowed like a Japanese man at a business meeting all for the glee of the crowd-and realized how much easier dancing was after a few drinks from the cerveza bottle. I can only imagine the look my face produced as the emotions I had were a pure fifty percent mix of utter terror and glee all at once. It is a very rare feeling to love and despise a moment within itself. With every oaf like turn I handed over to the crowd they handed back an overwhelming laugh and applause. When I finished….well they made me do it again and was given food out of the community bowl, and a cup of Chicha (Peruvian Wine) to guzzle for all to see. A woman having many more years than I came over and gifted me her handkerchief and gave me a kiss on the cheek……I stood with more color in my face than most think possible. I posed for photos, kissed at least 25 elderly women and enjoyed everyone.
It is amazing how things here are never as they seem….the most boring of days can turn out as a grand life adventure and well some days they just drag….but I am quickly learning nothing is experienced without stepping out with or without intentions. Life is only experienced when we put ourselves in the way of it and let the lying around to those content to let the experiences be stories they here other people speak of. The fact is my daily life here can be quite boring as I await for projects to initiate and trying at times-I miss my family, I miss more things than I can list here…but there are moments of electricity and I hope as I continue to learn the language and try to forcibly integrate into my community I can provide a few moments for them down the road.