<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394</id><updated>2012-01-24T10:55:30.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sarah´s Peruvian Life</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-699613522491649949</id><published>2008-06-15T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T09:31:34.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Speed Taste Testing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFVDTiDti-I/AAAAAAAAACU/dd1b8Y_AUXI/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212146146590165986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFVDTiDti-I/AAAAAAAAACU/dd1b8Y_AUXI/s320/Imagen+Sarah+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Anniversaries of towns are a big deal in Perú. This weekend was the anniversary of Vice, the district I live in. So for its anniversary, they had 10 days full of events, things like soccer games, volleyball games, educational talks on environment, small business, domestic violence, they also have dances and artesans exhibits. But my favorite event is the ¨Concurso de Platos Tipicos¨. This is an event where organizations from all over the district make a typical food dish from Perú and bring it to Vice for a food competition. This past Saturday, there were about 18 different organizations. Now the public gets really excited about this bc first, Judges go around and taste the food, but then, its time for everyone else to go out and sample.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7hY3PHwI/AAAAAAAAABE/Ra6n29Z7Dsc/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+042.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212137588547067650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7hY3PHwI/AAAAAAAAABE/Ra6n29Z7Dsc/s320/Imagen+Sarah+042.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7gtM84lI/AAAAAAAAAA8/b3akQ7CCTis/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212137576826987090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7gtM84lI/AAAAAAAAAA8/b3akQ7CCTis/s320/Imagen+Sarah+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It sounds pretty organized, doesn´t it? Well I am sorry if I am giving you the wrong impression bc it is the furthest from being organized! My ¨sitemate¨and I decided to each make a dish from our culture, as sort of an ¨intercambio¨, exchange of culture. I made Mac &amp;amp; Cheese (not just from a box, homemade Mac &amp;amp; Cheese) and my ¨sitemate¨ Brett made some turkish dish called Menemen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7iJCdcZI/AAAAAAAAABU/6jEfTY0mIJc/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212137601479045522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7iJCdcZI/AAAAAAAAABU/6jEfTY0mIJc/s320/Imagen+Sarah+043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well as soon as we arrived, the entire crowd swarmed our table. They all wanted to see our food, they wanted to taste it, they wanted to smell it, they wanted to learn how to make it even though they had no clue what it was yet! And then they tricked us. The judges were tasting the last food and about 1/2 of the crowd, 25 people or so, kept asking us to begin. They said it was time to begin. No one else had started letting people taste their food, but the people were telling us it was time. So we said okay and uncovered our dishes. People starting pushing and shoving and killing each other to get in to grab a spoon (there are only 3 or 4 spoons at each table and you grab a spoon, take a bite, then put the spoon down for the next stranger to use, and you move on to the next table). Then the lady &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_s-f5oOI/AAAAAAAAABk/fNZzLpJSBWo/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142185674809570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_s-f5oOI/AAAAAAAAABk/fNZzLpJSBWo/s320/Imagen+Sarah+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;next me says its not time yet bc the judges have to make another round. Of course!! Thats how Peruvian culture is. They tell you what you want to hear, they tell you what you need to hear in order for them to get what they want. Its so annoying! Especially when you are working with business. You get nothing productive done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So finally it was time to begin ( oh, for that 1 minute I uncovered my food &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7h9FgAzI/AAAAAAAAABM/BE-DFkK9VcY/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+045.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212137598270571314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7h9FgAzI/AAAAAAAAABM/BE-DFkK9VcY/s320/Imagen+Sarah+045.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for the tasting, they devoured about 1/4 or it, thats impressive). As soon as the director said ¨Okay¨ the people were at, and I split. I wasnt about to be there for all the mayham with my food. I wanted to try the rest of the food. There is supposed to be a line that starts at the first table, but that didnt happen. Half of the crowd was at our table, which was GREAT bc it freed up everyone else´s food so I wouldn´t have to wait in line or knock someone out to get some food. Let me tell you, it gets rowdy! Brett was trying to hand out crackers to people tasting his food but eventually gave up bc they just mauled him. Within about 10 minutes, my food was gone. They loved it! I had about 10 people afterwards ask me for the recipe. So I guess it was a success!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_tbINUpI/AAAAAAAAABs/KbboXnWSf_w/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142193360065170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_tbINUpI/AAAAAAAAABs/KbboXnWSf_w/s320/Imagen+Sarah+028.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7in9ikNI/AAAAAAAAABc/Ajc3Ug68fDk/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212137609779908818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU7in9ikNI/AAAAAAAAABc/Ajc3Ug68fDk/s320/Imagen+Sarah+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_t9ZXRoI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MxlXlwd5yVY/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142202558826114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_t9ZXRoI/AAAAAAAAAB0/MxlXlwd5yVY/s320/Imagen+Sarah+038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_uR-CRvI/AAAAAAAAAB8/AiUpPOkwIIY/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142208081348338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_uR-CRvI/AAAAAAAAAB8/AiUpPOkwIIY/s320/Imagen+Sarah+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_vPSasNI/AAAAAAAAACE/bgh-v5FgOUg/s1600-h/Imagen+Sarah+052.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212142224541397202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFU_vPSasNI/AAAAAAAAACE/bgh-v5FgOUg/s320/Imagen+Sarah+052.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-699613522491649949?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/699613522491649949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=699613522491649949' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/699613522491649949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/699613522491649949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/06/speed-taste-testing.html' title='Speed Taste Testing...'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/SFVDTiDti-I/AAAAAAAAACU/dd1b8Y_AUXI/s72-c/Imagen+Sarah+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-5590674471354532916</id><published>2008-06-05T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T19:58:02.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From Money to Kisses</title><content type='html'>The cutest thing happened the other day. It is extremely common for kids, adults, babies to ask you for money. You`ll be walking down the street and someone will come up to you and say ¨Give me 10¨. They want $10. Or you can be carrying some eggs and they will say ¨Give me an egg¨. They are programmed to beg from their youngest days. Not everyone, but a lot of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well there is one kid in my town who always asked for ¨10¨ whenever I see him. I used to feel bad telling him no, even though I am this ¨rich¨gringa who can afford to give him that and so much more. So instead, I tell HIM to give ME ten and I hold up both my hands for high fives. After a while, he caught on and started loving giving me fives. He would come up to me asking for ten, but this time wanting me to give him a high five. Kids here LOVE getting high fives. You always have to initiate it, and sometimes explain to them how to do it, but they LOVE it. You are giving them attention, and thats what they want most of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, about a week ago, this little boy comes running up to me and I am thinking he is going to ask for ten. He does, I give it to him. Then he asks ME if I want some of HIS bread, and its rude to say no, so I say of course. He tears off this little tiny piece, and hands me about 3/4 of his roll! I couldnt except the bigger piece, so I trade him for the littler one. Then, right as I am walking off, he smiles with his two black holes where his two front teeth should be, and asks me for a kiss. My heart melted then and there. Here is this little boy, who used to be a begger to me, who is now not asking for money, but for kisses.  If we could have that same affect on the rest of Peru, our work here would be complete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-5590674471354532916?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/5590674471354532916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=5590674471354532916' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/5590674471354532916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/5590674471354532916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/06/from-money-to-kisses.html' title='From Money to Kisses'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-2285929301012789406</id><published>2008-05-26T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T07:49:50.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why don´t they understand me?!</title><content type='html'>Here is my question: Why can I go into Piura or travel to Lima, even Ecquador, and people understand me just fine, but then I am in site and no one has any idea of what I am saying! Agh, its so frustrating! No wonder I am so self consious about my spanish. Its because people in my site make me feel like I am bajo bajo. They make me feel like I know nothing! And trust me, there is nothing more frustrating than not being able to communicate. And there isnt a bigger insult than when they tell you your friend´s spanish is better than yours. They are trying to insult you, they are just being honest. Its like the whole thing where they call bigger people ¨gordo/a¨ and thinner people ¨flaco/a¨. Its not an insult, thats just what they do in their culture. But us Americans do take it as insult, or not as lightly as we should.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like i was with my friend the other weekend and we met this guy that worked at this restaurant. He was talking to me and my friend and then later asked if I wanted to go out and get ice cream. I was like sure, that´ll be cool. So then he goes on to say ¨Your friend speaks better spanish than you, doesnt she?¨ WHAT! You just ask me to go out on a little ¨date¨ and then go on to insult me and tell me my friend is better/smarter than me. Yes, that is something to tell a lady when you just asked her out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-2285929301012789406?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/2285929301012789406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=2285929301012789406' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2285929301012789406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2285929301012789406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/why-dont-they-understand-me.html' title='Why don´t they understand me?!'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-3744848419705168402</id><published>2008-05-22T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T07:41:36.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother´s Day</title><content type='html'>One weird thing about Perú is that they show dead bodies on the news. It is very disturbing. I was eating lunch the other day and it was really hard to eat while watching this news story with a woman screaming and crying while holding her dead husband. And its not a quick glance either. Its a ¨lets get 30 seconds from this angle, 30 seconds on a close up of the face, another 15 seconds from the top...¨ and so on. The word ¨privacy¨does not exist in the Peruvian language. And who the heck would want to see a dead body anyways?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother´s Day was a couple of weekends ago and they throw a big celebration for it. There is a variety show in which the all the moms in the towns come too and a bunch of their kids perform on a big stage. They also give out prizes to the 50 oldest moms in the town. But what does the word ¨prizes¨mean? It means pots and pans, tubberware, cups, mixing bowls, etc. You can tell the role of the women in the Peruvian culture. They are there to keep the house under control, keep food on the table, make sure the home is clean, make sure the laundry is always done, etc. Its interesting to me because my mom talks badly of my sister at times, saying that she is never home cooking and cleaning. But in reality, I see her cook and clean the most out of everyone.  I think my mom is angry at my sister because she is going to school. Because she isn´t following the norm of graduating high school and coming home to take care of the family. My sister is studying at the university and after that, will be off to get a real job. Which is great! Its part of the advancement that Perú needs! Perú needs the women to get out in society more to help dissolve this machistic culture.  But my mom doesn´t understand that. She is one of the very poorly educated women whom know nothing but being a housewife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, back to my story. For the Mothers Day celebration, my sister and myself recited a poem for my mom. I was soooo nervous! I am horrible about speaking spanish in front of people I do not know, and here I was speaking spanish infront of 400 people! But it went really well! I like speaking in front of people, and for some reason, its a lot easier to do things in spanish that would be more difficult to do in english. I feel as though the words do not hold as much weight, to me, as they do in english. It was alot of fun. And I am not going to lie, I kinda expected people to clap really loud for me, but that didnt happen. They were just like whatever. Thats how Peruvians are though. They do not get real excited for events like that, or at least do not show it. My mom liked it though, so that matters to me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-3744848419705168402?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/3744848419705168402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=3744848419705168402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3744848419705168402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3744848419705168402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother´s Day'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-3227911520614042808</id><published>2008-05-18T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T08:35:35.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lima to Piura</title><content type='html'>I just returned from Lima yesterday and it was so hard to leave! The family I was staying with was so great and it was super nice to get outside of the campo mentality. It really surprises me how different and how much further developed the mentality of the people are from places like Lima are from those in the campo and even capitol cities like Piura. I went to chosica to visit my old host family from training and just speaking with them I could tell such a big difference. It makes me grateful to know them, but also brings me back to reality and lets me know I am not as dumb as I feel SO OFTEN while in site and Piura. I didn´t expect this part of PC life would be so difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I am going to try to switch houses in my site (if my APCD allows it). I love my host family, but it is just too much to take sometimes. I can deal with it, yes. But I am not going to be the most productive I can be if I stay. I need privacy, I need quietness, I need to feel like I have my own life and routine and living with 7-9 other people makes that extremely difficult. I hardly ever have the privacy to do work, let alone the privacy to just THINK. If I cannot switch houses, I am at least going to try to rent a room somewhere that can be my office. You guys would not believe how hard it is to have privacy here. Its almost impossible. And for some one as private as myself, you can imagine the problems with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its back to site in a couple of hours. I had to stay in Piura for an adjustment day, to get myself ready to back to the campo...Oh yea, the campo. I cant wait (can you sense the sarcasm??)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-3227911520614042808?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/3227911520614042808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=3227911520614042808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3227911520614042808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3227911520614042808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/lima-to-piura.html' title='Lima to Piura'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-1554949392657893905</id><published>2008-05-13T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T20:18:16.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Word of Caution</title><content type='html'>I hardly use the written english language anymore, so I know my spelling is horrible! Disculpame!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-1554949392657893905?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/1554949392657893905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=1554949392657893905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1554949392657893905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1554949392657893905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/word-of-caution.html' title='Word of Caution'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-2027025699072702677</id><published>2008-05-13T19:56:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T20:14:20.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So I know its been 5 months, but...</title><content type='html'>I am finally posting an entry, and probably would not be doing it if it weren't for numerous people getting on my case about not updating. I am sorry everyone, but finally here it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently in Lima on official business with PC. That sounds cool, right? I was given the option of staying with a host family (American) or staying in a hostel while I was here and choose the host family. Goodness its so nice! I feel very comfortable with this family, its like they are my real family! I guess thats the way it goes when you are in a foriegn country, when you are with your own kind theres that automatic bond. Its so crazy though, they have capt'n crunch in their pantry, raisan bran, hunts ketchup...all these things that I haven't seen in someone's house since I have arrived in Peru! But I am so Peruvian now, I totally perfer a Pervian meal over an American, packaged and processed meal. It just taste so much better. I returned from the states a good two weeks ago and brought back a can of Ravioli. I opened it up and cooked it on the stove, all excited that it was going to be amazing. Yet it was so bland, and I hate to say it, but gross! It was tasteless. But thats a good thing though, learning to like natural and un processed foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a horror story that didnt happen to me, but to my friend Karrie. I am sure a bunch of PCV's have similar ones. But Karrie called me one day and was freaking out about this tarantula that was just creeping outside her bathroom one day that was the size of her hand! Now, Karrie lives about 30 minutes away from me, so I am thinking if there are trantulas in her neck of the woods, there can very well be tarantulas in my neck of the woods. So the next 3 nights, I was SO paranoid about trantulas being in my room. I had to sleep with the lights on, make sure my mosquito net was tucked into every crack and crevice in my bed, and was completely on edge and jumpy for the entire night. I am still scared I am going to wake up to a huge tarantula just sitting on my chest, staring me down. I think I would probably scream really loud, freak out, and in the process make the tarantula freak out and it would then jump on my face and sink its juicy, poisen filled fangs into my face, leaving me scarred for the rest of my life. Yes, that is my biggest nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, now that I have scared myself to almost tears, I am going to bed. I will wake up tomorrow to some real, fresh brewed coffee, make small talk in ENGLISH with my temp host family,will take a run in civilization, hop in a real shower with hot water, and head on my way to a starbucks that overlooks the ocean in Mira Flores. Anyone jealous??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chao y'all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-2027025699072702677?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/2027025699072702677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=2027025699072702677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2027025699072702677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2027025699072702677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-i-know-its-been-5-months-but.html' title='So I know its been 5 months, but...'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-8910767176879730601</id><published>2008-05-13T19:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T19:56:49.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This one is for Jah</title><content type='html'>SHUT IT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-8910767176879730601?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/8910767176879730601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=8910767176879730601' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/8910767176879730601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/8910767176879730601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-one-is-for-jah.html' title='This one is for Jah'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-1318457330787301262</id><published>2007-12-08T15:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T16:13:01.599-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Se fue mi conejo</title><content type='html'>Sorry to keep all yall in suspense, but my rabbit has left me :(  Soon after my last post, mi conejo hopped into my room, slowly but surely, and hid behind my chair. We couldnt get her to leave. My sister tried picking her up with some newspapers but the rabbit peed on her, and us being girls, ran out of the room screaming. Then my mom walks in, with the attitude of ¨gosh, quit being sissies and just pick up the dang rabbit!¨ And thats what she did, picked it up in two seconds, marched up the stairs, opened the back door, and through it outside. I havent seen it since. My sister told me she thinks its going to play with the other rabbit next door. But something tells me that rabbit will not be doing much playing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well a couple of weeks ago we had our reconnect in a beautiful beach town in La Libertad, Huanchaco. It was such a breath of fresh air to be in a touristy place and be away from the poverty we are faced with day in and day out. It was also super nice to not be harrassed! That right there might have been the highlight of my trip! But seeing all the ppl in my group was great.  We had a couple of meetings with our bosses, and we each had to give a presentation of our site and our work, but for the most part, it was vacation. We had a pool in our resort that had mountains in the background. It was sweet swimming in this pool and looking off into the distance seeing those mountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reconnect also brought great food!  I finally found some mexican food that was freaking rico! They had nachos, burritos, guacamole, tacos...all that delicious mexican food I´ve been missing! And I got to go surfing for my first time ever! I´ve ALWAYS wanted to know how to surf and I finally got the opportunity to take lessons. It was so much fun! I loved being out in the middle of the water with no one else around. Its just you with nature. Little can beat that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I am planning for Christmas, YEA! I am going to have some baking classes with my artisans.  I love baking candies and cookies and you most def have to do this for Christmas. So from now till Christmas I am going to have 2 baking classes a week. That might be a bit expensive, but bringing a taste of home here during the holidays doesnt have a price. Merry Christmas to everyone. Have a great holiday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-1318457330787301262?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/1318457330787301262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=1318457330787301262' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1318457330787301262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1318457330787301262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/12/se-fue-mi-conejo.html' title='Se fue mi conejo'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-3281191228513784378</id><published>2007-11-09T07:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T07:59:11.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Rotting Rabbit</title><content type='html'>Its been a little over 2 months since I have arrived at sight. My first encounter with my rabbit was during site visit when my mom told me we were going to eat him when I came back to start my service two weeks later. Well, thank goodness, we did not eat him. But I remember conejo, the rabbit´s name (it means rabbit in english, they don't name their pets, its always gato, conejo, perro, etc.) as being nice and plump. We could have eaten him if we wanted to. Conejo would always visit us during meal time, sitting underneath the counters and tables in my kitchen, waiting for food to be dropped so he could have something to eat. Or he would come downstairs from the roof where he lived to be found munching away at a sweetpotatoe he´d managed to get out of the big bag of fresh produce my mom had just brought from the market. Occasionally, sweet little conejo would get in trouble for eating a hole in the bag of the uncooked noodles and tearing them apart. He never did any harm to us. Even though he never let me pet him bc he´d run up the stairs faster than you could say his name, he always had a fond memory in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now my view of conejo is changing. He is no longer fat and easy on the eyes. Poor conejo is rotting away. First, all four of paws began turning brown and then began losing their hair. Then it started happening to his nose. There is almost a hole where his nose is. But today was the saddest of all days. I saw poor conejo downstairs in front of my room, a place he has never been before. There are stairs that lead from the door outside my room to the kitchen, then more stairs to the roof where my buddy lives. Conejo was trying to get up the stairs to the kitchen but seemed to be having trouble. I just stood there, watching him for a while, witnessing the sick rabbit trying to get to his home. He was stretched out between two stairs and his body was as delgado as ever. He´d lost so much weight, he looked like a baby rabbit. But then, he tried to hop from one stair to the next, and he couldn't´t make it. This sent him rolling slowly down the 3 stairs he´d just climbed and he landed at the base on his side. Yet he didn't move. He layed on his side, stretched out, for 5 minutes. I patted the ground next to him so see if he´d move, but he wouldn´t. Usually, if I got with in two feet of him, he´d scurry away. Eventually he got up and hopped into my room. But I was not too happy with this. I am not sure what kind of disease this rabbit has, but I don't want him giving it to me. He was hiding in my corner, and after countless attempts to shoo him away with an empty box, I ended up having to call my sister for some help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor conejo is sick as can be. I give him 2 days before we find his lifeless body or begin smelling the stench of yet another dead animal... Poor, poor conejo. RIP. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130869706970018386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzSC0GDCslI/AAAAAAAAAAs/DVIaSITAzzI/s320/a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-3281191228513784378?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/3281191228513784378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=3281191228513784378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3281191228513784378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3281191228513784378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-rottening-rabbit.html' title='My Rotting Rabbit'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzSC0GDCslI/AAAAAAAAAAs/DVIaSITAzzI/s72-c/a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-7246858497810281436</id><published>2007-11-07T13:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T13:47:12.294-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Its time to shower when those flies are swarming</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wake up this morning to the sound of a mosquito buzzing in my ear. That is the worst sound in the world. I hate it. And I find I have about 6 new bites on my arms that are itching like crazy! I usually do not get bit at night, but I think it was probably the lotion I put on before bed. Thanks mom for sending that. I should probably think about putting up my mosquito net soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not get back to sleep though. It was 4:00 a.m. I heard this dripping sound in my kitchen. It was only one drip every 4 or 5 seconds and it was annoying the heck out of me. I had no clue what it was, but after investigating it, I find out it was watering dripping into a bucket. It rarely rains here, and last night it started to rain. But only softly. Anyways, the smell was amazing, but that sound I couldnt deal with! The bucket was not full enough so it wasnt water dripping into another bucket of water, it was water dripping onto plastic. So I just decided to put my ipod in and read myself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130217610688354338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzIxvGGIWCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JnYMNaRCS9I/s320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;What else is new...I saw my pig get castrated the other day. A vet comes to our house and asks if we need anything, and the next thing I know, he is asking me if I want to watch. I hesitantly say yes. He has the kit with him with all his meds and vet stuff and also a little girl. He says she is his nurse, even though she is only an 8 year old girl who doesnt go to school and wants to learn about animals so she tags along with him when he does jobs. Well the alarming part of this was, she was holding these needles for the vet and running around with them. I know this girl wants to learn, but goodness!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130217885566261298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzIx_GGIWDI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UGYgRxmoGHE/s320/2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Well the vet first hog tied our chancho to the pole that it sleeps tied to in our backyard. The sound of a pig getting hog tied was horrible to hear! Goodness, it was worst than the actual castration. After he hog-tied it, he gave it one shot, slit open its put with a new razor, then did his thing. Afterwards, he squirted a ton of alcohol up in side the pigs butt and pushed it up in him. Omg, I felt so bad for that poor pig. He also spray painted its butt purple (at least that is what I think that stuff is). The vet said though that we couldnt eat the testicles because the pig was over 6 months old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130218057364953154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzIyJGGIWEI/AAAAAAAAAAk/uXy7TGAV658/s320/3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And for some reason it is bad to eat them if they are older than that. I also asked why he was castrating our pig and he said it was bad to sacrifice a pig unless it wasnt. Dont know why, but okay! My mom told me yesterday we were going to kill the pig today so we can eat em, I told to let me know when so I could watch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-7246858497810281436?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/7246858497810281436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=7246858497810281436' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/7246858497810281436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/7246858497810281436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-time-to-shower-when-those-flies-are.html' title='Its time to shower when those flies are swarming'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JXco_G0P7Js/RzIxvGGIWCI/AAAAAAAAAAU/JnYMNaRCS9I/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-1766208898371065264</id><published>2007-11-02T13:21:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T13:21:50.229-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia de los Muertos</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Dia de los Muertos.  On this day, everyone goes to the cemetery at night, brings flowers, lights candles, and sleeps until the morning at the tombs of their loved ones.  It was really beautiful. People build forts around their graves in order to get some privacy and to block the wind.  There were probably about 50 forts in all.  Our cemetery was built on top of this hill, on the sand, that overlooks my town.  Some of the bodies are in tombs that are on top of the ground, and some buried in the ground with only a wooden cross marking the spot. You had to be careful walking around because it was dark and very easy to trip over the crosses.  We walked around for a bit just observing everyone. The ritual is to light candles, some people brought pictures, and sit around with your family and pay respects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, the adults were paying respects and the kids were being kids, running around treating it like a party.  They do not really understand and appreciate the importance of the day.  There were also a few men drinking, but not very many.  That was good to see. Sometimes it seems like the men just have this culture of drinking, and their values do not stem too far from that.  Many days that’s all they’ll do, drink. Drink from sunrise to sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Well my sister and I arrived at 9:30 p.m.  There were many circus like tents set up selling coffee and sandwiches, and also other stands selling hamburgers and french fires.  It was kind of like a carnival, minus the rides. So we walked around for about 3 hours, and then I start to get tired. My body was  tired and I was sleepy. Rocio told me like 30 minutes earlier that we would walk around for a little bit longer and then leave.  She had also told me the day before we would not stay night. So I was not expecting to stay the night. Well when I am tired, I being to get crabby. I told Rocio I was sleepy and she said ¨oh, just sleep here¨ pointing to the tomb her whole family had gathered around. Now I would not have a problem sleeping there, but she had already told me we were not spending the night. Rocio is cool because she understands I want to experience their culture, but I cannot spend hours upon hours at events like these.  So this irritated me a little. I said no, I don’t want to sleep here and she asked why.  But she knew why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I had enjoyed the night, and usually I do not like being out late.  But I realized it was an important day in their culture and I wanted to experience it with them.  Maybe I am in the wrong for not spending the entire duration of the event with everyone. I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s normal for me to be like this or if I am just not emerging myself as much into their culture as I should.  I mean when they have town fiestas, I usually go.  But only for an hour or two.  When there are quinceneras, I usually go, but only for an hour or two.  We will stay until about midnight and then I will say I am ready to go.  These events will last until 4:00 to 5:00 a.m. and if I don’t say I am ready to go, we will be there until at least 3:00 a.m.  I feel bad sometimes that I get tired of being at these events because that also means I get crabby and don’t like to talk as much. I do not like to stay up all night at these town functions. I am not Peruvian.  This is not my idea of fun.  That sounds a lot harsher than what I mean. I want to go to these things, but I cannot go as long as they do.  They do it because it’s their culture; they have been doing it their whole lives. I wonder if they realize it’s difficult for me and that I am trying.  I don’t know. I don’t think this is something I am ever going to get used to and think is fun to do.  This is not my culture. There is only so much I can do. Should I feel bad, should I feel as if I should be integrating more into the community and culture and stop being selfish?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-1766208898371065264?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/1766208898371065264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=1766208898371065264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1766208898371065264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/1766208898371065264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/11/dia-de-los-muertos_02.html' title='Dia de los Muertos'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-2911294766872408007</id><published>2007-11-02T13:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T13:21:49.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dia de los Muertos</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Dia de los Muertos.  On this day, everyone goes to the cemetery at night, brings flowers, lights candles, and sleeps until the morning at the tombs of their loved ones.  It was really beautiful. People build forts around their graves in order to get some privacy and to block the wind.  There were probably about 50 forts in all.  Our cemetery was built on top of this hill, on the sand, that overlooks my town.  Some of the bodies are in tombs that are on top of the ground, and some buried in the ground with only a wooden cross marking the spot. You had to be careful walking around because it was dark and very easy to trip over the crosses.  We walked around for a bit just observing everyone. The ritual is to light candles, some people brought pictures, and sit around with your family and pay respects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, the adults were paying respects and the kids were being kids, running around treating it like a party.  They do not really understand and appreciate the importance of the day.  There were also a few men drinking, but not very many.  That was good to see. Sometimes it seems like the men just have this culture of drinking, and their values do not stem too far from that.  Many days that’s all they’ll do, drink. Drink from sunrise to sunset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;            Well my sister and I arrived at 9:30 p.m.  There were many circus like tents set up selling coffee and sandwiches, and also other stands selling hamburgers and french fires.  It was kind of like a carnival, minus the rides. So we walked around for about 3 hours, and then I start to get tired. My body was  tired and I was sleepy. Rocio told me like 30 minutes earlier that we would walk around for a little bit longer and then leave.  She had also told me the day before we would not stay night. So I was not expecting to stay the night. Well when I am tired, I being to get crabby. I told Rocio I was sleepy and she said ¨oh, just sleep here¨ pointing to the tomb her whole family had gathered around. Now I would not have a problem sleeping there, but she had already told me we were not spending the night. Rocio is cool because she understands I want to experience their culture, but I cannot spend hours upon hours at events like these.  So this irritated me a little. I said no, I don’t want to sleep here and she asked why.  But she knew why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I had enjoyed the night, and usually I do not like being out late.  But I realized it was an important day in their culture and I wanted to experience it with them.  Maybe I am in the wrong for not spending the entire duration of the event with everyone. I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s normal for me to be like this or if I am just not emerging myself as much into their culture as I should.  I mean when they have town fiestas, I usually go.  But only for an hour or two.  When there are quinceneras, I usually go, but only for an hour or two.  We will stay until about midnight and then I will say I am ready to go.  These events will last until 4:00 to 5:00 a.m. and if I don’t say I am ready to go, we will be there until at least 3:00 a.m.  I feel bad sometimes that I get tired of being at these events because that also means I get crabby and don’t like to talk as much. I do not like to stay up all night at these town functions. I am not Peruvian.  This is not my idea of fun.  That sounds a lot harsher than what I mean. I want to go to these things, but I cannot go as long as they do.  They do it because it’s their culture; they have been doing it their whole lives. I wonder if they realize it’s difficult for me and that I am trying.  I don’t know. I don’t think this is something I am ever going to get used to and think is fun to do.  This is not my culture. There is only so much I can do. Should I feel bad, should I feel as if I should be integrating more into the community and culture and stop being selfish?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-2911294766872408007?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/2911294766872408007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=2911294766872408007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2911294766872408007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2911294766872408007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/11/dia-de-los-muertos.html' title='Dia de los Muertos'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-2100085701526415910</id><published>2007-10-24T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T17:47:52.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My trip to the ¨Beach¨</title><content type='html'>Part of my job is working with artisans who make souvenirs and such from sea shells. You know those things you´d buy if you went to Mexico on vacation, things such as a big sea shell that has a sunset painted on it and the words ¨Cozumel, Mexico¨ written on the side and it was made by a local Mexican. My artisans make these things. Well to get the material, they go to the beach and find a variety of seashells: big ones, small ones, red ones, orange ones, circle ones, spiral ones, sharp ones, soft ones, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So last Wednesday, my artisans tell me we are going to the beach Friday morning to find sea shells. I was all for it because just getting out and doing something different is great. Friday rolls around and they said we were going to leave at 9:00. Therefore I got up at 9:00 in order to eat breakfast, drink some coffee, watch some t.v. Why did I rise at 9:00? Well simple. In Perú, 9:00 really means 10:00, or possibly 10:30. It depends. That is Peruvian time. At first it was a little pain, but I have gotten used to it and it is really nice. So anyways, I got up at 9:00 and about one hour later, one of my Artisans comes to my door to get me. We walk down to the locale where we have our meetings and there are 8 other artisans waiting for our ride.  Last time we went to the beach, we rode in a pickup truck: 3 people in the front, 4 in the backseat, and about 10 in the bed of the truck. Peruvians will get in any moving thing and fit as many people as they can into them. That’s the way things work. Well this time, I was expecting something similar.  After about 15 minutes of waiting ( we only waited for 15 minutes?! Usually we wait for anything and everything for at least 30 minutes. Needless to say, I am definitely learning patience), this big truck that looks like a trash truck comes driving down the street and my artisans tell me that’s what we are riding in. I laugh because I thought it was a joke, and they laugh too because they thought I was laughing because I was in disbelief.  Sure enough though, when the truck got closer I saw two of my artisans riding in the front seat. Okay, I am thinking, this is definitely not a joke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of my artisans begin getting into the back of the truck which has 10 foot walls that are made of wood and and nailed together quite loosely. Once you see the back it looks like something cattle would travel in. There was nothing in the back but 4 wooden benches that we all sat on. The only problem with them was they were not nailed down, so whenever we hit a bump or the driver slammed on his breaks we all went flying.  Anyways, a couple of the women tell me to ¨sube¨ (to get in ) in the front, but I insist in riding in the back. I think it would be fun and I always want to ride with my artisans. I don’t want to feel like an outside or someone who is better than them. I want to live like they live so I can understand them and relate to them better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I sube in the back, we ride for about 1 hour on the highway and honestly, the only time I fear for my life in Perú is when I am travelling. These Peruvians are the craziest drivers in the sometimes most un-stable vehicles.  When I went to Ancash for my FBT (field based training), we rode up the side of this mountain in a taxi that was going so very fast, on this dirt road with loose gravel, that had a drop off into the canyon just 5 feet from the road. Talk about scaring! It seems like on slip of the drivers hand and he would lose control and send us scaling down the mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the driver is taking us to Parachique, which is the town where we are going to be finding sea shells, and instead of taking the road that goes down to the beach, we takes the road that continues into the vastness of the Sechura desert.  He then stops the truck and drops all of us off in the middle of the desert. I had no clue what were going to be doing in the middle of this desert when we were supposed to be finding sea shells on the beach. I ask one of my artisans and she tells me we are finding sea shells, of course.  It was really strange, but there were just random piles of sea shells scattered all across this desert. And they were assorted by type, too. It was quite easy to find sea shells that we needed once we found the piles, but finding the piles was the hard part. My artisans told me they were there because the fishermen gathered the shells for the food, then dumped them in the desert. But that wasn’t the only thing I found dumped in the desert. While walking for 2 hours, in bloody flip flops from all the thorns that were getting stuck in my shoe and gashing at my feet, I happened to run across a decayed cow corpse and the corpse of a dog that had a decayed head but still had all of its hair on its body. Weird. I almost tripped over them too because here I am looking down at the sand trying to find sea shells and not watching where I was going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked around for a couple of hours and THEN went down to the beach to eat. Parachique is a big fishing spot so there are hundreds of boats from all around Piura trying to make a living catching and selling fish. There are also a bunch of women there who have set up tables just 20 feet from the shoreline where they serve ceviche (raw fish) and camotes, canchita ,chincha (sweet potato, fried corn kernels, and this really bad fermented corn drink) to the fishermen and locals. I am not a big fan of ceviche unless it is made in a restaurant. Anywhere else, people do not prepare it correctly. I did have to sit and pretend to eat it though. I always just eat the onion and tomato that is served with it to make it look like I ate some.  But it was really cool to be eating at these tables right off the shore and to be surrounded by all these big fishing boats and ocean wildlife flying and crawling around everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After five hours of being in the desert, we finally went home. I had envisioned the trip being only 2 hours, max. But that’s one thing you need to know about being here. Things never turn out like you think they will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-2100085701526415910?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/2100085701526415910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=2100085701526415910' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2100085701526415910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2100085701526415910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-trip-to-beach.html' title='My trip to the ¨Beach¨'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-2661393580556909615</id><published>2007-10-17T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T14:50:43.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Got Peed On</title><content type='html'>So here I am, running like usual. The same thing I do everyday and I see this boy walk outside by the street. He just looks like he is going to stand outside and not do anything, he wasnt about to run off or start playing with a spare tire that seems to be the only toy of a lot of the children in my town. But the next thing I know this boy pulls up his shirt, arches his back, and begins peeing. His pants arent even down, he isnt standing in a corner, he is 2 feet from me making his pee like a rainbow that arches just enough to get on my leg. OMG, I was like so mad! First off, this whole Peruvian thing where they just pee anywhere and at anytime really irritates me. I mean I understand some of them do not have bathrooms, but go some place secluded where no one will see you. The men in my neighborhood are the worst. The one alley that I have to walk up to get to my house always has the moto taxist peeing there and this alley smells horrible! I am tired of seeing these boys, and girls, peeing on walls, peeing on sidewalks, and peeing on me! I have even seen a mother helping her son pee on the side of a wall in Lima. Maybe I am not peeing culturally sensitive, but goodness! Oh, and the grossest thing I have seen was a big pile of diarhearia (sp) in a middle of a sidewalk next to my training center in Lima.  It was obviously from a human, and it was out in the open. But the worst part of it all was there was toilet paper laying right next to it where the person had wiped with. The person obviously was ready for to go poo and was prepared...Why couldnt you have waited till you found a bathroom? It could have been a PCV´s, there have been stories of them not being able to hold it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-2661393580556909615?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/2661393580556909615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=2661393580556909615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2661393580556909615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/2661393580556909615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-just-got-peed-on.html' title='I Just Got Peed On'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-655961390963072314</id><published>2007-10-16T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T09:11:54.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reunion in Lima</title><content type='html'>So I finally got to go back to Lima...it was great. It was more like a vacation than work though, which made it even harder to go back to site. It was definately filled with excitement from the get go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My artisan and I arrived at the bus station in Piura 2 hours early, so i asked if the bus station could store our boxes that had our products in it for the fair behind their desk. And they were said of course and asked me what bus I was on. Because of this, I thought they were going to automatically place our boxes on our same bus...yea it didnt quite work out like this. We arrive in Lima 15 hours later, Thursday morning,  and our boxes are not on the bus. This is a problem. The artisan fair was at the United States Embassy which has a million rules on security. For the fair, they needed ALL the products that were being sold, at the Peace Corp Headquarters in Lima by 10:00 a.m. on Thursday. Well I didnt have my products, and they would not be able to make it until the following morning because there were no other buses that ran from Piura to Lima. So all we could do was wait. I had no clue if the Embassy was going to let us bring our products in or not. And we had worked really hard the the week before getting everything ready. It would really suck if they wouldnt let us in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following morning we leave our Hostel at 8:00 a.m. and head to the bus station. Everyone else left at 7:30 and were already at the Embassy setting things up. The fair opened their doors at 9:00 and we were hoping to get there as soon as possible. Well here we are waiting, at the bus station for 2 hours for the bus to arrive. There are two buses that come from Piura and on the first bus there were none of our products. Oh jeez, what if they dont make it? So we wait for the second, hoping and praying they are on there. And sure enough, they are the last boxes off the bus. Thank goodness! One step down, one to go. We still had to see if the Embassy would even let us in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 11:00 a.m. we head to the Embassy with some Peace Corps workers and I felt really important. The first day at the Embassy, we had to wait in this long line in the front of the building to get in and go through the metal detectors, you know they drill. But you arent allowed to have liquids, cameras, or cell phones with cameras in the Embassy, among other things. Well the second day, we were riding in the back way with official people of the Embassy. Going around the back way was a little different. First our car pulled into this gated area and they made us shut off the engine. Then they ran a metal detector all over and around the car and also used mirrors to check under the car. Then they lifted the hood and checked under it, and followed with checking the IDs of everyone in the car. That was fun. But we finally got in to the fair and they let all of our products in so we were happy! Even though we were 3 hours behind everyone else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sold 5 products, S/. 42 worth. I am not sure if this is real good or not. It was my first fair and my aritsans. And we were not selling to people we would normally be selling too. We were selling to wealthy Americans who worked at the Embassy. With that said, when selling at our next fair, we probably wont sell as good because it is going to be to the lower classes of the Peruvian people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also got to go see our old host families while in Lima. That felt great! It was like coming home after we´d been gone for so long. My mom cried when she saw me. It was so sweet! I also got to see the other host families of the volunteers who I´d spend a good amount of time with also. It is so funny because they have shrines of us volunteers in their houses. There are walls covered in Pictures of us. We were their first group of volunteers which was difficult for us because they did not know how to treat us, but also good because there is always something special about those firsts.  My mom didnt want me to leave, but I promised I would come back whenever I was near Lima.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other great things about the trip: I had Mcdonalds, Twice. I was able to be ¨Americanized¨ by the Starbucks, big shopping malls, and by the other American tourist. I was out of site where my every move wasnt being watched by everyone. There were a million different types of ppl from all over the world! I need that interaction sometimes.  I got to hang out with and catch up with all of my fellow PCV´s :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-655961390963072314?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/655961390963072314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=655961390963072314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/655961390963072314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/655961390963072314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/10/reunion-in-lima.html' title='Reunion in Lima'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-7566259860129031928</id><published>2007-10-10T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T09:24:55.377-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Basketball &amp; Coffee</title><content type='html'>My mom sent me a package a couple of weeks ago and all last week I was looking forward to going to Piura and picking it up. Here, things like getting a package is what motivates me to get up in the morning when I have nothing else to do in this slow paced country. So Monday passes and then Tuesday. Then I FINALLY get to go to Piura on Wednesday to get my package. But it wasnt there! It got stuck in customs and I was so bummed... I had to wait a week until the customs people were there to get it. The customs people are only there one day a week. This meant I had to go back yesterday and wait in a long line bc everyone who had things in customs all had to go the same day to pick it up. I thought I was going to have to pay to get it out, but if the value of things in the package is less than $100 you dont have to pay. So that was really good...But I would have payed to get that package out because it had some COFFEE! Vanilla flavored folgers coffee. OMG, AMAZING! The coffee was sitting in my room all day yesterday and now my room has the wonderful aroma of coffee, mmm!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this morning I couldnt wait to get up to make it. I honestly could not sleep last night because, for one, I am going to Lima today for an artesan fair, and two, I was going to drink this amazing stuff. It was like when I was a little kid on Christmas Eve, I could never sleep because I was filled with excitement. No joke, thats how I was last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here in Peru, you have to learn to be creative. I dont have a coffee maker bc I dont want to spend the S/. 40 to buy one. No thats not a lot of money, but I figure I can spend it more wisely on something else. Like staying a night in Piura and eating at the most amazing restuarant, Cappacinos. Thats become a ritual with us Peru 9ers. It is what keeps us from losing our sanity. So in order to make the coffee, I boiled some water and added the coffee grinds in it. I only boiled it for like 2 or 3 minutes and probably should have boiled it longer because it was not very strong. After that, I but a lid over the pot and allowed for a lil opening where the coffee could come out into my cup while keeping the grinds in the pot. I was not sure if this would work, but it did and that coffee had the most amazing smell, the most amazing taste...it was just perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I go in my living room and turn on the TV. Its really weird bc all of the American shows we do get and of them that we dont get. But the weirdest program, in my open, is that we get football. Yes, straight up American Football. We get Sunday day football, we get Monday night football...everything. We also get baseball games. So I was thinking, if we get Football and Baseball, will we get Basketball?? I stopped the TV on ESPN this morning (yes ESPN in ENGLISH) and what did I see...highlights to the Cavs game! OMG, I was so excited!! I dont need to see full basketball games, just the highlights will do me good. I screamed with joy and my sister came running into the living room asking me what was wrong. Lol, I´m a gringo. I can do weird things like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am headed to Lima today for a fair with one of my artesans. I could not be happier bc I can need to get out of my site! I do nothing all day long. I need some excitement and traveling always does it for me. Plus I get to see the rest of the PCVs in my group and spend 3 days with them. I havent seen them for 6 weeks..I have been looking forward to this for a long time now...I cant wait! The trip to Lima is 14 hours from my site, but we take an overnight bus and these seats are more comfortable than my bed. I love these trips. We get fed dinner and breakfast and they always play 1 or 2 movies. These buses are super nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-7566259860129031928?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/7566259860129031928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=7566259860129031928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/7566259860129031928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/7566259860129031928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/10/basketball-coffee.html' title='Basketball &amp; Coffee'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-3029745078408282174</id><published>2007-10-08T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T18:24:31.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exorcism...</title><content type='html'>So i came to the cabina tonight, at this time, bc i think they are performing an exorcism at my house right now, no joke. Well, maybe not an exorcism, but thats what it looks like to an outsider. Actually, my mom said they are doing it to cure her cold. So, right now, there are 30 ppl in my living room, all kneeling with candles lit and their bibles open. Weird? No, normal. There are also about 3 ppl playing the drums and tamberine. Weird yet? No, still normal. These 30 ppl are all chanting something different, with their eyes closed and arms stretched out. Weird now? Getting there. Then there is my  mom at the front of the room and there is a woman standing over here, chanting and waving her hands over my moms head. I take this is an ancient ritual they did to cure illnesses. Or maybe its just a catholic thing, i am not sure.  But here is when it starts getting really weird.  The woman that is standing over my mom bends down and gets this vapor rub cream, lifts up her shirt, and begins rubbing my moms front side with the cream.  All the while, my mom is crying her eyes out.  Then, the woman performing the ¨ritual¨ begins gagging and then continues to throw up. THEN, my mom begins gagging and proceeds to throw up also. Okay, this was the point where I left. oo weird for me. Then after it is all done, they are going to eat arroz con leche and galletas (sweet rice with milk and crackers) and gossip for a while... HMMM!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-3029745078408282174?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/3029745078408282174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=3029745078408282174' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3029745078408282174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/3029745078408282174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/10/exorcism.html' title='Exorcism...'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2048344319722633394.post-6606607830987090562</id><published>2007-09-26T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T10:21:49.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The  Beginning</title><content type='html'>So I am starting my blog a little late...4 months late. But better late than never, right? Is that how the saying goes? I am not sure, aftering speaking spanish for 4 months things in english do not always sound right.   Well here I am in Piura, Peru. Its gorgeous. Palms tree, beaches, sun year round, and hot weather. The best part of Piura though is its skies. The skies are amazing, especially at sunset.  My site is in the middle of the desert so I can see as far as my eyes will let me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I am finally living at site and its great. But I had to go through 3 months of training in Lima to get here. It was a fun but hectic time. Ultimately, it was a good experience that prepared me to live on my one. Before coming to Peru, people said that it is one of the best countries to be a PCV because the land is breathtaking and the staff is amazing. Isnt that the truth! The staff consist of about 1/4 Americans and 3/4 Peruvians. Everyone speaks both English and Spanish, but some will only talk to you in Spanish. That was a tough one for me coming in here. My spanish was definetly lacking and I struggle at times. But being around Spanish for 4 straight months you really improve. I cant speak it extremely well, but I can understand a lot. As long as you can understand it, I dont think you will have a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoyed training because of all the traveling we were able to do. I spent my field based training in Ancash. Ancash is in the middle of the Andes is home to the second largest mountain in South America. We visited the captiol of Ancash and its like Denver in the US, but twice as breathtaking.   I also traveled to Piura for a week for my future site visit. That was a nightmare. I was scared to death when I got to my site. My host mom was glued to my side the ENTIRE TIME, she drug me around the entire town showing off her ´gringa´ at 10 oclock in the evening, and I was introduced to their rabbit that she said they were going to eat in celebration for my first night with them in two weeks when I returne to start my service. Thank goodness the rabbit is still around. I also got to travel to Chincha for Fiestas Patrias (their independence day) and to Lima nearly every week. Lima was a lifesaver for me in the beginning. It was the place we could go and be Americanized while eating delicious  food and enjoy some form of entertainment other than listening to the Wino music every Peru has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That leaves me now in site where I miss the ´busy´life a little. I work only 9 hours a week at site and it gets boring real quick. I sleep until 9:30-10:00 some days because there is no use in waking up early. Sleeping until 10:00 is late for me, especially when my family wakes up at 7 and has their music blaring till lunch time. I fill my free time with a lot of reading, and not really much else. Cooking sometimes, sometimes running. The free time is nice, and I know it´ll pick up. But when?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2048344319722633394-6606607830987090562?l=peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/feeds/6606607830987090562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2048344319722633394&amp;postID=6606607830987090562' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/6606607830987090562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2048344319722633394/posts/default/6606607830987090562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://peacecorpsarahdoughty.blogspot.com/2007/09/beginning.html' title='The  Beginning'/><author><name>Sarah Doughty</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11724974787587258895</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
