wake up and smell the roses

Something I like to do ... enjoying the flowers that are blooming in our apartment.

Magic

For those who know me well, to say that I'm not exactly into magical and fantasy stories would be quite the understatement.  Nevertheless, I've been assigned to teach an entire month-long course on "Merlin: Arthur and the Unicorn" an adaptation from the British television series Merlin. 

It's been a challenge to feign excitement about the topic, excitement for wizards and unicorns, dragons and potions, but I've learned a few things from the experience.  Firstly, I learned a few things about the legends of King Arthur, about the television series of the young Arthur and young Merlin, and of other magical creatures.  I also became very creative to come up with a variety of activities on the theme besides for the reading of the elementary level reader.  Despite my students' panic every time I ask them to do something out of the ordinary and tell them I want them to use their creativity, a few of the projects have turned out to have nice results.

The project I feel best about was asking them to work as a large team (all 24 students) to create a magazine for the land of Camelot during a 1.5 hour-long class period.  (The students are in their tenth month of English classes).  The final result, after a fair amount of brainstorming, voting on ideas, and guiding them through the process, was quite pleasing.  It was also evident that the students were proud of themselves, which was a nice thing to see.  Most of them don't want to learn English and think they can use Google Translate for everything, but this project helped them discover that they do know a fair amount and that the internet doesn't always do a very good job of translating for them.  They can sometimes do better.  Below are a few images of their magazine called Magical Land.

The arrival of the wise men

While Epiphany may be celebrated in churches in the United States on the 6th of January, it is celebrated with stronger traditions in other parts of the world.  In 2012 and 2008 I had the opportunity to celebrate the day in Emsland, Germany where small (and sometimes large) nativity scenes are built be it of wood or colorful paper cut with frills.  The small nativity scenes, known as Tunscheere, are dropped off on doorsteps of friends and family while ringing the doorbell and running away.  In that sense resembling the May Day tradition in the US.

Here I was treated to my first Peruvian Epiphany.  The city is filled with parades of shepherds and wise men (aka the "wizard kings" if one is to translate their name literally).  The participants play drums, tambourines, trumpets and clarinets to Christmas tunes to share their joy that Christ has been revealed to the world.  Even horses are present in the ever mismatched backdrop this city displays.  "Feliz Navidad" rang out for all to hear!

Interestingly enough, Peru's capital city, Lima, was first called "Ciudad de los Reyes" (City of the Kings) by Francisco Pizarro when he and two others found the ideal location for a Spanish city on the 6th of January.  

A new year…

It’s easy to get caught up in our own lives, to make plans, to never think of the impossible.  On the night of the 31^st of December, our household, as well as all the neighbors, were celebrating.  There were fireworks and hugs and greetings all around.  Even a few effigies were burned.  And we brought in the new year. 

From our apartment windows, I can see the Pan-American Highway.  It provides a pathway for a variety of people and means of transportation.  In any given 5 minute interval, one can see people crossing the world’s longest street, people alighting and boarding combis, collectivos and taxis, see someone peddling a cart full of goods, hear a bus or truck rumble by, the honking of horns, the screeching of breaks, the calls of neighbors, and smell exhaust. 

Yesterday afternoon, I sat reading on our sofa while Igor was busy at the hospital.  Suddenly, the volume of noise outside grew and I looked out to see a swarm of perhaps 40 or 50 people gathered near the highway near our corner.  “What is going on?” I asked myself.  I was soon to discover that a young boy (perhaps 8 or 9 years old) from our block had been playing with water balloons and had stepped onto the highway, been hit by a vehicle that had done its best to slam on its breaks, but the boy went flying and lost his life.  Two women wailed uncontrollably, trying to rush out onto the street.  Men held them back.  Other curious onlookers and gossipers gathered round.  Traffic piled up.  And then, less than a half an hour later, as quickly as the commotion had begun, it vanished as though nothing had happened. 

I’ve seen other accidents nearby.  I witnessed one moto-taxi driver go flying to his death.  Fortunately, I didn’t see the accident occur yesterday.  But moments like this come like interruptions to our dreams, calling us back down to earth, reminding us that nothing in permanent. “Wasn’t that one of the little boys giggling and lighting fireworks down the street last night?” Igor asked me when he got home.  “It may well have been,” I replied.  While some blame his mother for not having been watching him at that moment and having prevented that accident, I pity that young mother that I do not know.  No one can pay attention to their children 100% of the time.  Miracles happen every day.  We take risks and we survive.  But every once in a while, someone is unfortunate and lives are changed. 

What was celebrated with high hopes of being a great year, has turned into tragedy for some.  The police came today to take pictures and write up a report and the same nosy neighbors turned up to watch.  And the lesson to be gained from all of this… It can happen to anyone.  Life is a gift.  Dance every day and appreciate the little miracles of life.

As the old year winds down...

As 2014 draws to an end, we have the opportunity to reflect on it and know that we're heading into the new year having had a prosperous year.





Let's rewind.  We now have a week to enjoy ourselves!  I just finished my English pedogogy exams a week ago and Igor achieved high marks on his exam to earn himself a paid residency here in Chiclayo!  Now we both have an income :)

We got to celebrate time with family and friends in July in the weeks surrounding our wedding.

And, while they weren't our favourite things we learned somethings during the first half of the year... me primarily learning terminology for cowboy clothes and gear while Igor learned about statistics and other fun things like citing sources for his thesis.

A Blessing in Disguise

   It was in the form of a large rectangular, chewed up piece of foam.  Klaus, my sister-in-law's rambunctious beagle, got to the mattress and tore a good chunk of it up, so Igor’s mom decided to throw it out on the sidewalk.  I looked out our apartment window and wished that the ugly thing could at least have been thrown next to the Pan-American Highway where the garbage is collected.  But one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.  It was someone else’s blessing. 

   It didn’t take long for an elderly man with kinky white hair, who has lost his mind and often sleeps in the grass across from our place in the median of the Pan-American Highway, to snatch the mattress.  We hoped he could at least get some use out of it.  But when we didn’t see him with the mattress in the median the following nights, we began to wonder what had become of him and the mattress. 

   A week or two ago, while taking a walk at a nearby park, we happened to be curious and look over the high cement walls of a deep, empty fountain.  There we saw a small portion (perhaps a 3^rd of the mattress) inside.  We asked ourselves, if the man could possibly sleep on that.  A few days later we saw him wandering in the park saying nonsense.  At the beginning of this week, we peered into the empty fountain once more and discovered that the whole mattress is not pushed together in a position out of the wind. 

   With a smile on our faces we turned to each other and said at the same time, “He may be crazy, but I’m sure glad he’s found a better place to sleep.  We’d better go so no one else discovers his bed.”  We didn’t see the beauty in that chewed up mattress that lay on the sidewalk, but we’re thrilled that someone else did.  

On the other side of the street

   In a country that doesn’t have the infrastructure or ideas that many Americans have in regards to care for the elderly or mentally unstable, it’s a common sight to come across loco men and women in the streets.  Living next to the Pan-American Highway heightens our opportunities for such occurrences, as does working in the city center. 

   There are those who fade into the background, that are seen occasionally, but don’t seem to attract everyone’s attention and then there are those who are not forgotten.  We see a man, who most people don’t notice, because he likes to sleep in the grass in the median of the highway right across from our house.  There is the “Crazy Sack Lady” who can often be found in the business district with her overgrown fingernails and toenails and plastic sacks on her head, piled next to her and protruding from her ragged clothing.  Finally, you must meet “Loco Chete,” a legend in Chiclayo.  On two different occasions, in an English class, when students were to describe other people, I asked them to describe him and everyone in the classes new him.  He is a non-aggressive, generally cheerful, alcoholic who is said to have lost his mind after seeing his father burned alive at the age of 12.  Loco Chete covers the entire city on foot, carrying a few bags, usually some beer and muttering, laughing or hollering nearly unintelligibly (at least for me) in a good natured way.  The people love him.  They give him a little bit of money, they offer him food, cut his hair for him and care for the man, lost in time but not in space.  He may not have any sense of who others are or where/what he should do at any particular time but he can tell a person about every district in the city and where he has been or is headed. 

   We get caught up in our own lives and know what’s going on in our own home and sometimes what is going on in our neighbors.  We see those on the other side of the street but often do not know their stories and then the further one goes from home, the more like a dream their lives seem.

Loco Chete across the highway from our house