Saturday, February 9, 2008
I don’t like animals (in real life).
Yes, I know I am a dailybunny.com enthusiast and on more than one occasion my yearly calendar has been of some kind of fuzzy critter or furball (sheepdogs anyone?) but I am coming to grips with the fact that I just don’t like animals. I probably will never own a pet again (two parakeet and a hamster was enough for a lifetime) and I don’t really like touching pets whether they are cats or dogs here. They just seem dirty and stinky to me. Is that so wrong? I only am realizing while I am here in Bolivia since my exposure to pets up until this point has been very limited. I guess indoor cats are the least offensive to me (Sarah, don’t worry, I’m not going to drown your cat) but in general I try to stay away from dogs. I’m trying to be nice to Pat’s dog, Rumi, while she’s still in the States but I just don’t like the way they jump all over you and the feeling that you need to wash your hands right after you touch them because you know they’ve been chewing on something foul right before they licked you. When I first arrived in Tarata, there was a moment of insanity when I thought I might get a dog for companionship, but that flash of stupidity has passed. I am working on accepting the idea that I just might be the biggest sissy that the Peace Corps has ever seen. And I’m quite alright with that.
Baby’s First (and Last) Carnaval
So this past Monday and Tuesday were Carnaval, Bolivia’s most important holiday (the only holiday where two vacation days are given might I add) and a favorite of many Bolivians and tourists alike. I am not a fan. Let’s say that this holiday includes a lot of my least favorite things and just by sheer existence in this world I get included in those even though I did not ask to participate. All I have to say is the madness of Mardi Gras in New Orleans is preferred and that I am happy to say that I will probably be in Taiwan for Chinese New Year next year during Carnaval. I would highly recommend for anyone that was scared of attending Mardi Gras in New Orleans (Steph) to definitely not travel to any Latin American country during Carnaval. I am happily content in my change-of-plans decision to not travel to Oruro (craziest Carnaval in Bolivia) this year and will not be even considering traveling to Rio in Brazil anytime in the month before or after Carnaval.
I don’t like getting hit with water balloons. That’s the truth. During Carnaval it is perfectly acceptable to pelt strangers with water balloons, shoot them with water guns (yes, I saw a grown man shooting an old cholita with a supersoaker out a car window) and spray them with foam. I went into Cochabamba on the Monday of Carnaval and I was probably asking for it by just being there, but to experience that once is more than enough. The city was strangely quiet for the holiday with the exception of the Cancha (open air market) where I was warned things could get very ugly and messy. I was pleasantly surprised when I was able to walk from the Cancha (where the stop for the taxi-trufi from Tarata is) to the Cine Center with only minor incidents. But as I was making my way back to the Cancha to go home was another story. My first incident involved a group of teenage boys in a rotunda/plaza near the Cine Center (big American type movie complex). There had to be about 10 of them and I did my best to ignore them and just walk by…and honestly I wouldn’t mind if after I walked away they tried to pelt me with their balloons nor do I mind getting hit with a watergun that much. But one walked right up to me and stuck his hand under my chin with a balloon and popped it. I mean, come on, is that really called for? I did not appreciate that invasion of my personal space more than getting soaked. I did my best to ignore the fact that it happened and just walked away while they cackled in laughter and pelted me with a few more balloons. What I really wanted to do was punch him in the face but I could imagine my Carnaval experience degenerating into me beating up teenager boys and young children so I decided against it. That was then followed by my encounter with three younger children who hit me with at least 3 balloons and then as I kept on walking as if nothing happened, one of the little ones ran up behind me and sprayed my back (luckily raincoat covered) with a huge pile of foam. Direct hit from point blank range, not that impressive or satisfying in my opinion. I was then determined to walk back to the stop to get back home since I was already wet and as I neared the Cancha, I got a bucket of water dumped on my head. Yeah, I forgot that is acceptable as well…to dump buckets of water from balconies onto the people walking below you. Then as I was walking through the Cancha I heard more teenage boys going “get the chinita” and I literally ran to the other side of the street after I heard that.
Maybe it’s the lack of the potential lawsuit that allows this to happen in Bolivia, after all, in the U.S. you can sue anyone for just about anything, and it’s not unheard of for people around here to fill the balloons with paint, urine, or freeze them. There was that story of a motorcycle driver that got hit with an icy balloon last year and crashed and died. Right. Plus beyond that I’m sketched out by the fact that who knows what kind of water these buckets and water guns and balloons are filled with. I did see some kids filling some balloons from some skanky fountain filled with stagnant water. I’m just afraid of catching some disease by inadvertently getting some of the water in my mouth (hard to avoid when u get a full bucket dumped on your unexpectedly). There’s always typhoid fever which as one volunteer that contracted it by swimming in a river eloquently put it “I got poop in my mouth.” Which is apparently the way you get it when infected feces get in your mouth, usually through a contaminated water source.
Anyways, I sound like a whiny brat (Negative Nancy, Debbie Downer, any assortment of pessimistic nicknames) complaining about this because everyone experiences the same thing during Carnaval, but being less fun-loving than most volunteers and being less accustomed to it than Bolivians, I hate it that much more. Hopefully later this week when Carnaval is over, I can go back to worrying about pickpockets as my primary concern rather than walking around with the fear of getting hit by balloons and buckets of water.
I don’t like getting hit with water balloons. That’s the truth. During Carnaval it is perfectly acceptable to pelt strangers with water balloons, shoot them with water guns (yes, I saw a grown man shooting an old cholita with a supersoaker out a car window) and spray them with foam. I went into Cochabamba on the Monday of Carnaval and I was probably asking for it by just being there, but to experience that once is more than enough. The city was strangely quiet for the holiday with the exception of the Cancha (open air market) where I was warned things could get very ugly and messy. I was pleasantly surprised when I was able to walk from the Cancha (where the stop for the taxi-trufi from Tarata is) to the Cine Center with only minor incidents. But as I was making my way back to the Cancha to go home was another story. My first incident involved a group of teenage boys in a rotunda/plaza near the Cine Center (big American type movie complex). There had to be about 10 of them and I did my best to ignore them and just walk by…and honestly I wouldn’t mind if after I walked away they tried to pelt me with their balloons nor do I mind getting hit with a watergun that much. But one walked right up to me and stuck his hand under my chin with a balloon and popped it. I mean, come on, is that really called for? I did not appreciate that invasion of my personal space more than getting soaked. I did my best to ignore the fact that it happened and just walked away while they cackled in laughter and pelted me with a few more balloons. What I really wanted to do was punch him in the face but I could imagine my Carnaval experience degenerating into me beating up teenager boys and young children so I decided against it. That was then followed by my encounter with three younger children who hit me with at least 3 balloons and then as I kept on walking as if nothing happened, one of the little ones ran up behind me and sprayed my back (luckily raincoat covered) with a huge pile of foam. Direct hit from point blank range, not that impressive or satisfying in my opinion. I was then determined to walk back to the stop to get back home since I was already wet and as I neared the Cancha, I got a bucket of water dumped on my head. Yeah, I forgot that is acceptable as well…to dump buckets of water from balconies onto the people walking below you. Then as I was walking through the Cancha I heard more teenage boys going “get the chinita” and I literally ran to the other side of the street after I heard that.
Maybe it’s the lack of the potential lawsuit that allows this to happen in Bolivia, after all, in the U.S. you can sue anyone for just about anything, and it’s not unheard of for people around here to fill the balloons with paint, urine, or freeze them. There was that story of a motorcycle driver that got hit with an icy balloon last year and crashed and died. Right. Plus beyond that I’m sketched out by the fact that who knows what kind of water these buckets and water guns and balloons are filled with. I did see some kids filling some balloons from some skanky fountain filled with stagnant water. I’m just afraid of catching some disease by inadvertently getting some of the water in my mouth (hard to avoid when u get a full bucket dumped on your unexpectedly). There’s always typhoid fever which as one volunteer that contracted it by swimming in a river eloquently put it “I got poop in my mouth.” Which is apparently the way you get it when infected feces get in your mouth, usually through a contaminated water source.
Anyways, I sound like a whiny brat (Negative Nancy, Debbie Downer, any assortment of pessimistic nicknames) complaining about this because everyone experiences the same thing during Carnaval, but being less fun-loving than most volunteers and being less accustomed to it than Bolivians, I hate it that much more. Hopefully later this week when Carnaval is over, I can go back to worrying about pickpockets as my primary concern rather than walking around with the fear of getting hit by balloons and buckets of water.
Fruits Galore
I consider myself a fruit lover…I like to eat strawberries by the quart, bananas on my cereal, and on occasion I have cried when my mom gave the rest of the raspberries to my sister because I had already eaten the lion’s share. You can just imagine my delight when I visit the market in Bolivia and see exotic fruits that I have never tried before. During training I had paqui (this strange banana-shaped fruit with a hard rind and fuzzy white interior with big black seeds) and this other citrusy fruit whose name fails me now (it is a cross between a passion fruit and a lemon). I savored the 40 cent giant pineapples and 60 cent papayas and relished the sweet bananas with real flavor and the best mangoes I’ve ever eaten. I gobbled down sour starfruits (or carambolas if you will) and am eagerly awaiting the Peach Fair that takes place in my town every March. My most recent discovery is the cherimoya (aka custard apple). It’s a mushy blob of flesh inside with big black seeds and quite tasty. Might be a new entry on my top 10 favorite fruits list but I’ll have to do some internet research to see if any damage can be done from daily consumption. I also purchased recently what I believe are cactus pears (aka the prickly pear) which I wasn’t so fond of. It had way too many seeds that were difficult to remove (although according to the description in my Better Homes and Gardens cookbook you can eat the seeds) but ruined the texture and flavor when eaten whole.
Monday, February 4, 2008
The major food groups: less of, more of, and roughly the same amount but in different form
So I’ve noticed lately that I’m becoming a little pudgy due to the lack of exercise (attributed to both laziness and the daily rains) and I have decided to analyze my diet as a method of weight control (although it’s highly unlikely that I have the self-discipline to actually eat healthier food in place of the Cremositas and french fries). Here’s what I have:
Less of (or nonexistent): tasty vegetable variety in exotic salad forms found on UBS’ salad bar, fish, meat (chicken, beef, pork, lamb), frozen vegetables, canned soups, soy products (milk, tofu, and veggie burgers), CHOCOLATE, ice cream (wahhh! Ben and Jerry’s, crap, I forgot I’ve been eating Flavor Burst like there is no tomorrow when I’m in the city), water, ICE, bread (in hearty whole grain form and toast), cookies, beer, rice (I have performed a minor miracle and haven’t cooked it once since I’ve been in Tarata), pickles, bacon (oh I miss microwave bacon!), canned beans (I miss the pork ‘n beans and refried varieties), anything asian flavored, deli meat, yogurt, salads (boohoo), potato chips
More of: potatoes (esp. fried), whole milk (in liquid and powdered form), bread (in lard filled roll form), coffee, tea, SODA (full sugar, especially Pepsi and Coke), popcorn, corn on the cob, cheese (maybe that’s because if you don’t want to pay out the arse for it you buy it in the one pound block form), fresh tomatoes, hamburgers (I can’t resist a good street hamburger around here), alcohol (in mixed drink or wine form), tortillas, pasta, cream cheese (on bread since they lack bagels around here), chocolate milk (what am I, 5 yrs old?)
Roughly the same amount but in different form: fruit (rarely apples anymore), eggs (fried egg on tortilla with cheese and ketchup anyone?)
Based on this scientific analysis, it is fair to conclude that I have replaced many healthy foods with filling, carbohydrate-laden, white colored, non-nutritious foods thus resulting in weight gain. Although I have reduced my consumption of parts of the “fats, oils, and sweets” group in the traditional food pyramid such as chocolate, ice cream, pickles and bacon, the resulting increase in caloric intake from carbohydrates and decrease in physical activity has lead me to my current circumstances (rotund).
Solution: break all full length mirrors in sight, buy a few pairs of pants with elastic waists, under no circumstances wear anything spandex, banish horizontal stripes from my wardrobe, go for a daily walk, and worry about this in approximately two years.
Less of (or nonexistent): tasty vegetable variety in exotic salad forms found on UBS’ salad bar, fish, meat (chicken, beef, pork, lamb), frozen vegetables, canned soups, soy products (milk, tofu, and veggie burgers), CHOCOLATE, ice cream (wahhh! Ben and Jerry’s, crap, I forgot I’ve been eating Flavor Burst like there is no tomorrow when I’m in the city), water, ICE, bread (in hearty whole grain form and toast), cookies, beer, rice (I have performed a minor miracle and haven’t cooked it once since I’ve been in Tarata), pickles, bacon (oh I miss microwave bacon!), canned beans (I miss the pork ‘n beans and refried varieties), anything asian flavored, deli meat, yogurt, salads (boohoo), potato chips
More of: potatoes (esp. fried), whole milk (in liquid and powdered form), bread (in lard filled roll form), coffee, tea, SODA (full sugar, especially Pepsi and Coke), popcorn, corn on the cob, cheese (maybe that’s because if you don’t want to pay out the arse for it you buy it in the one pound block form), fresh tomatoes, hamburgers (I can’t resist a good street hamburger around here), alcohol (in mixed drink or wine form), tortillas, pasta, cream cheese (on bread since they lack bagels around here), chocolate milk (what am I, 5 yrs old?)
Roughly the same amount but in different form: fruit (rarely apples anymore), eggs (fried egg on tortilla with cheese and ketchup anyone?)
Based on this scientific analysis, it is fair to conclude that I have replaced many healthy foods with filling, carbohydrate-laden, white colored, non-nutritious foods thus resulting in weight gain. Although I have reduced my consumption of parts of the “fats, oils, and sweets” group in the traditional food pyramid such as chocolate, ice cream, pickles and bacon, the resulting increase in caloric intake from carbohydrates and decrease in physical activity has lead me to my current circumstances (rotund).
Solution: break all full length mirrors in sight, buy a few pairs of pants with elastic waists, under no circumstances wear anything spandex, banish horizontal stripes from my wardrobe, go for a daily walk, and worry about this in approximately two years.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Bolivian Rainstorm
It’s inevitable. Rainy season in Bolivia and walking as your only mode of transportation. You’re going to get caught in the pouring rain at one time or another. And you’re not going to have a raincoat nor an umbrella. It happened to me today. After English class around 8:30 pm, I decided since I was having a particularly WTF-am-I-doing day that I would traipse over to the internet café to read my email and check Facebook and see if I still had any friends that loved me (indeed I do! and my mommy called me while I was there to boot). By the time 40 min was up I was ready to go home and I looked outside and saw it was raining. No biggie, I’ve walked places in the rain many a time and I’ve even gone out running in the rain voluntarily (not pouring let me remind you). So the internet café owner told me I was going to get wet, and I responded “voy a correr” (I’m going to run). Hah. Not that it would have helped anyways. Apparently it was raining a lot harder than I thought and by the time I got to the plaza (a 2 min walk away) I was wet, so I decided to wait it out a bit under an overhang. After about 10 min in the rain (and it was freezing cold by Bolivian standards as well) and I saw it let up a tiny bit…so I made a dash for it…which in Tarata means I plodded along through the flooded cobblestone streets like a turtle, choosing to remain upright with no broken ankles rather than get home just a teeny bit drier. By the time I got home (which requires a 10 min walk but in the rain jumping over the streams in the road and mud is more like 13 min), I was probably more soaked than I ever have been before. At some point I gave up on trying to avoid the puddles (and some I can honestly say I was trying to avoid but was unsuccessful) and just trudged and slogged my way through it all. Now I am fearful that I am going to catch some kind of foot disease (I would compare soaking your sneakers and socks in the water running through the streets to doing the same thing on a NYC street corner after it was raining – aka gross, not something that is good for your podiatric health). When I finally made it back to my house I ducked in the bathroom to see the damage and saw mud splotches all over my sweater sleeves (?!)…I’m at a loss at how the mud could come up to my arms, but then again, this is Bolivia where crazy things do happen. All I have to say is that all those clothes are getting washed tomorrow morning (if it’s not raining…remember, doing laundry is dependent on the weather) and I’ve learned the valuable lesson to carry a raincoat and/or umbrella anywhere you go during rainy season. That way maybe your shirt with stay dry. Shoes, socks and pants are s*&^ out of luck.
News Update
People tend to be interested in matters that concern them and when I read whatever news source I can get my hands on I am no different. When I receive BusinessWeek I still scour it for articles on energy and investment banking but I’m also branching out into being excited about reading up on Latin America, development and NGOs, and socially conscious whatever it may be. Quite thankfully, all volunteers receive copies of Newsweek so we can stay semi-up-to-date on world issues. I read all the articles on the 2008 presidential race and business articles, but I struggle to get through the world affairs articles (unless they have to do with Latin America or China). I don’t know why, but international politics doesn’t interest me all that much. It’s one of those topics that I wish I were more knowledgeable on and more interested in, but I’m just not. An interesting article I did read lately deals with private foreign-aid providers. At first I thought it was kind of an oxymoron, USAID contracting out some development project to a private company instead of NGO…but then after reading the article I couldn’t decide which side I agree with. The argument to use private firms is that they can get the job to build x number of schools or y road connecting point A to point B done more efficiently (aka cheaper!) than an NGO can. But in reality the companies are only better at big infrastructure projects like bridges because of their expertise while they aren’t as good at the smaller projects that require knowledge and trust of the community that they’re working in. A PCV would side with the NGOs in the belief that you really need community support to make an aid project successful (and the fact that they say they waste less money in the levels of bureaucracy when they contract the jobs out because they have offices located in the communities) but my capitalistic way of thinking says that if it makes economic sense to use private companies for aid projects they should go ahead and use them. After all, in my short time here in Bolivia I’ve seen and heard of plenty unsuccessful projects executed by NGOs that are supposed to be better at development projects that actually make a difference. And so the debate continues…
Confessions, Reflections, and Resolutions
In the past few weeks I’ve been rather uninspired to write any blog entries, mainly because recent events have been uninspiring (yes, everyone loves Christmas and New Year’s but nothing particularly thrilling happened to me during the holiday season besides the excessive consumption of street hamburgers). But 2008 is a new year and a week into it, I will try to get back on the horse. Neigh.
Let’s start off with a few confessions…
1) I went online (window) shopping at J.Crew the other day. Blasphemy! I can honestly say that was the first (okay 2nd or 3rd) time I have wistfully online shopped down here. And I’m going to blame it on the fact that I never cancelled those email notifications (“50% off winter sale!”) because I used to live for those. I did make a clean break with Lord and Taylor and unsubscribed to their notices (although I daydream about shopping sprees with Kelley where we use our coupons to buy $20 Rock and Republic jeans and $80 leather Coach purses). Clearly it was a case of the “I want it because I can’t have it” along with the fantasy that I can be femininely and elegantly dressed even just one day during the next two years. That cashmere cardigan, wool toggle coat, and knee-high leather boots are SO not Peace Corps though. Gotta keep up with the times (currently stylish are a grungy t-shirt and jeans). Maybe what’s even more shocking about this whole experience is that I’m turning girly! Ahhh! Nooo!
2) I haven’t shaved my legs since I left Rochester 4+ months ago. Sarah found this amusing. I don’t have much to say about it besides the fact that I’m soon going to either start putting the leg hair in dreads or braiding it.
3) I made an Excel spreadsheet that tracks how many months I’ve finished of my service, my time in Bolivia, and converts this to a percentage of time completed (currently around 10% of my service done, 17% of time here in Bolivia done). In another column I have detailed what exciting events (ahem, such as visits by my delightful friends and family) are happening each month to keep me looking ahead. I shade green the time that I’ve completed (logically) whereas time yet to be completed is highlighted in yellow. Now, I am enjoying myself the majority of the time that I’m here, but this spreadsheet is for those truly crap-tastic days that you just need to feel like you accomplished something and there’s an end to the madness. Don’t worry, I’m not that weird, Pat confessed to me she does the same thing (albeit not in Excel) and another volunteer who will remain unnamed has said she counts the number of days that she has been in country. This unnamed volunteer also exclaimed to me upon the advent of 2008…”we’re going home next year!” We’re all crazy. It’s okay.
4) I wear the same outfit 5 days in a row. Then I shower. Then I change. I had this debate with my mom about what makes more sense…I believe that if you’re not going to shower, you shouldn’t bother changing your clothes because what’s the point of getting more clothes dirty? My mom thinks that BECAUSE you aren’t showering everyday, you should change your clothes everyday to keep a minimal level of hygiene. Any thoughts?
5) I ate half a watermelon in one sitting. Not one of those itty bitty ones that you can pick up with one hand (like the one you ate when you timed yourself in Shanghai, Steph), but a full sized watermelon. Bolivia makes you do crazy things, I’m not sure why I bought it when I knew fully well I was the only one that was going to be eating it. But then again I’m the kind of fruit fiend that can eat 2 lbs of strawberries in a day no problem. The day I bought the watermelon was also the day I went to Coch in search of fruit and I was tottering through the cancha with 5 apples, 8 mangoes, and my big watermelon along with some other Christmas purchases. Surprisingly, my stomach did not explode as a result of the watermelon consumption. Leslie – do you need me to carry a watermelon back to your apartment from Star Market for you?
Moving onto a reflection…I was riding in the taxi-trufi (of course double-shotgun) back to Tarata yesterday after dropping Pat off in the city with her luggage (she’s going home! hopefully just for a few weeks though to get some medical stuff taken care of…if she leaves me for good I will not be a happy camper) and I was like, wow, Bolivia IS pretty. I finally took notice that since rainy season is here the mountains and everything are lush and green. I guess that’s what it’s like to be in a site like Semaipata that is green and tropical all the time. Anyways, I’ll enjoy the scenery while I have it and then enjoy the dusty brown landscape with cactus the rest of the year. It makes me think that maybe people should come visit me during the rainy season though because it’s prettier here during that time. Vamos a ver.
New Year’s Resolutions. Me being me, the master of to-do list (taking a shower was on the agenda for yesterday, check!), traditionally, I write resolutions in list format. I enjoy quantitative, measurable goals for the latest year (some might even say they qualify as SMART objectives as designated by PMM – the oh-so-useful annual performance review mechanism at UBS). In light of my recent move to Bolivia, land of uncertainty and circumstances that prevent you from accomplishing things on a strict timeline, I am willing to make an exception. By writing in paragraph format. If I get really creative I might even throw a poem in there for you.
Resolution: I am going to lose 15 lbs and quit smoking. Actually, no. More probable is that I’m going to gain 15 lbs (or shall we convert that into kilos? or maybe it’ll just be 15 kg, I’ll round up) and take up smoking. No Mom, not really. I’m kidding. But I have heard on more than one occasion volunteers have taken up cigarettes in order to combat stress (yes, getting 10 hours of sleep at night can be extremely stressful). Anyways, in review, 2007 was the year that I turned 25 and had a major quarter-life crisis and immediately flew off to Bolivia on my birthday, August 21st. I would like to think I am spontaneous like that, but unfortunately my decision to finally LEAVE for the PC was the combination of the premonition of the impending sub-prime disaster in financial services (hah, if I had actually seen that coming I would be a very smart and rich person) and the decision to finally stop being lazy and wade through the paperwork required for PC.
So that brings me to my one-liner: my resolution for 2008 is to live without regrets. As some of my sisters of Kappa Kappa Gamma might put it “to go for the gold.” Umm…I haven’t though about the fact that I was in sorority for awhile. I feel the urge to bust into an “Everyone Loves a Kappa Gamma, Everyone Loves a K-K-G” chant or the refrain from “On the Heart of Each Sister.” Okay, that moment has passed. So what does living a year without regrets involve? At this point I really have the hankering to make a numbered list but I will resist! Something smells really bad right now. I think it’s the pigs next door though since I just took a shower yesterday. But I digress. So what I really wanted to say is that living without regrets this year means that I’m pledging to try really hard to get some sustainable (ooh, development buzzword!) work done in my primary and secondary projects. And I’m going to get out in my community more to embrace the experience that I’m so lucky to have. And I’m going to make a conscious effort to improve my Spanish and learn some Quechua (this requires putting down those darn cheesy mystery novels I keep on getting from the PC library). Overall, I think it can be summarized in getting off my lazy arse and not being afraid. Oh, and I’m going to study really hard for the GMAT and at least 680 on it (hopefully I’m as smart as I foolishly think I am). And then I’m going to save the world. 2008, ready or not, here I come!
Let’s start off with a few confessions…
1) I went online (window) shopping at J.Crew the other day. Blasphemy! I can honestly say that was the first (okay 2nd or 3rd) time I have wistfully online shopped down here. And I’m going to blame it on the fact that I never cancelled those email notifications (“50% off winter sale!”) because I used to live for those. I did make a clean break with Lord and Taylor and unsubscribed to their notices (although I daydream about shopping sprees with Kelley where we use our coupons to buy $20 Rock and Republic jeans and $80 leather Coach purses). Clearly it was a case of the “I want it because I can’t have it” along with the fantasy that I can be femininely and elegantly dressed even just one day during the next two years. That cashmere cardigan, wool toggle coat, and knee-high leather boots are SO not Peace Corps though. Gotta keep up with the times (currently stylish are a grungy t-shirt and jeans). Maybe what’s even more shocking about this whole experience is that I’m turning girly! Ahhh! Nooo!
2) I haven’t shaved my legs since I left Rochester 4+ months ago. Sarah found this amusing. I don’t have much to say about it besides the fact that I’m soon going to either start putting the leg hair in dreads or braiding it.
3) I made an Excel spreadsheet that tracks how many months I’ve finished of my service, my time in Bolivia, and converts this to a percentage of time completed (currently around 10% of my service done, 17% of time here in Bolivia done). In another column I have detailed what exciting events (ahem, such as visits by my delightful friends and family) are happening each month to keep me looking ahead. I shade green the time that I’ve completed (logically) whereas time yet to be completed is highlighted in yellow. Now, I am enjoying myself the majority of the time that I’m here, but this spreadsheet is for those truly crap-tastic days that you just need to feel like you accomplished something and there’s an end to the madness. Don’t worry, I’m not that weird, Pat confessed to me she does the same thing (albeit not in Excel) and another volunteer who will remain unnamed has said she counts the number of days that she has been in country. This unnamed volunteer also exclaimed to me upon the advent of 2008…”we’re going home next year!” We’re all crazy. It’s okay.
4) I wear the same outfit 5 days in a row. Then I shower. Then I change. I had this debate with my mom about what makes more sense…I believe that if you’re not going to shower, you shouldn’t bother changing your clothes because what’s the point of getting more clothes dirty? My mom thinks that BECAUSE you aren’t showering everyday, you should change your clothes everyday to keep a minimal level of hygiene. Any thoughts?
5) I ate half a watermelon in one sitting. Not one of those itty bitty ones that you can pick up with one hand (like the one you ate when you timed yourself in Shanghai, Steph), but a full sized watermelon. Bolivia makes you do crazy things, I’m not sure why I bought it when I knew fully well I was the only one that was going to be eating it. But then again I’m the kind of fruit fiend that can eat 2 lbs of strawberries in a day no problem. The day I bought the watermelon was also the day I went to Coch in search of fruit and I was tottering through the cancha with 5 apples, 8 mangoes, and my big watermelon along with some other Christmas purchases. Surprisingly, my stomach did not explode as a result of the watermelon consumption. Leslie – do you need me to carry a watermelon back to your apartment from Star Market for you?
Moving onto a reflection…I was riding in the taxi-trufi (of course double-shotgun) back to Tarata yesterday after dropping Pat off in the city with her luggage (she’s going home! hopefully just for a few weeks though to get some medical stuff taken care of…if she leaves me for good I will not be a happy camper) and I was like, wow, Bolivia IS pretty. I finally took notice that since rainy season is here the mountains and everything are lush and green. I guess that’s what it’s like to be in a site like Semaipata that is green and tropical all the time. Anyways, I’ll enjoy the scenery while I have it and then enjoy the dusty brown landscape with cactus the rest of the year. It makes me think that maybe people should come visit me during the rainy season though because it’s prettier here during that time. Vamos a ver.
New Year’s Resolutions. Me being me, the master of to-do list (taking a shower was on the agenda for yesterday, check!), traditionally, I write resolutions in list format. I enjoy quantitative, measurable goals for the latest year (some might even say they qualify as SMART objectives as designated by PMM – the oh-so-useful annual performance review mechanism at UBS). In light of my recent move to Bolivia, land of uncertainty and circumstances that prevent you from accomplishing things on a strict timeline, I am willing to make an exception. By writing in paragraph format. If I get really creative I might even throw a poem in there for you.
Resolution: I am going to lose 15 lbs and quit smoking. Actually, no. More probable is that I’m going to gain 15 lbs (or shall we convert that into kilos? or maybe it’ll just be 15 kg, I’ll round up) and take up smoking. No Mom, not really. I’m kidding. But I have heard on more than one occasion volunteers have taken up cigarettes in order to combat stress (yes, getting 10 hours of sleep at night can be extremely stressful). Anyways, in review, 2007 was the year that I turned 25 and had a major quarter-life crisis and immediately flew off to Bolivia on my birthday, August 21st. I would like to think I am spontaneous like that, but unfortunately my decision to finally LEAVE for the PC was the combination of the premonition of the impending sub-prime disaster in financial services (hah, if I had actually seen that coming I would be a very smart and rich person) and the decision to finally stop being lazy and wade through the paperwork required for PC.
So that brings me to my one-liner: my resolution for 2008 is to live without regrets. As some of my sisters of Kappa Kappa Gamma might put it “to go for the gold.” Umm…I haven’t though about the fact that I was in sorority for awhile. I feel the urge to bust into an “Everyone Loves a Kappa Gamma, Everyone Loves a K-K-G” chant or the refrain from “On the Heart of Each Sister.” Okay, that moment has passed. So what does living a year without regrets involve? At this point I really have the hankering to make a numbered list but I will resist! Something smells really bad right now. I think it’s the pigs next door though since I just took a shower yesterday. But I digress. So what I really wanted to say is that living without regrets this year means that I’m pledging to try really hard to get some sustainable (ooh, development buzzword!) work done in my primary and secondary projects. And I’m going to get out in my community more to embrace the experience that I’m so lucky to have. And I’m going to make a conscious effort to improve my Spanish and learn some Quechua (this requires putting down those darn cheesy mystery novels I keep on getting from the PC library). Overall, I think it can be summarized in getting off my lazy arse and not being afraid. Oh, and I’m going to study really hard for the GMAT and at least 680 on it (hopefully I’m as smart as I foolishly think I am). And then I’m going to save the world. 2008, ready or not, here I come!
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