Sunny Earthquaking Pig Blood

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Today, unlike most other days, started with an earthquake. I was lying in bed mostly asleep just before 7 am when the house started to shake. Completely disoriented and confused, my mind slowly started trying to process what could possibly be happening. There is currently construction going on right outside on the Pan American Highway, so my thoughts first went to that and that maybe they were using some new, monster machine that actually shook houses. Or perhaps the foundations were collapsing. Or perhaps this was what an earthquake felt like. Or perhaps I was imagining it or still dreaming. Or… For some reason I was not incredibly concerned. It crossed my mind for a moment that perhaps I should get out of the house, but I didn’t want to be one to overreact, so I waited it out. Perhaps a minute, or a few, went by and it did stop. I waited, perhaps touched a foot to the floor: floor still felt solid, house didn’t feel as though it was about to collapse. I went back to sleep.

I woke up a bit later and went downstairs. Rosa was nowhere to be found, but the kitchen was full of dirty dishes. Usually Rosa is quite meticulous about cleaning up right after breakfast. She returned a while later full of explanations. She immediately asked if I felt the shaking that morning (so I had not been imagining it). She assured me it was the result of a tsunami or an earthquake. She was downstairs when it happened and immediately ran outside. She then told me it’s very dangerous to stay inside and that I should always go outside if it happens. She spent the rest of the morning outside incase it happened again, while I perilously remained indoors. Apparently I have not made it to status of one of her own children yet that she would actually retrieve me out of the house.

The next piece of news was that the water was broken. While there was no monster machine being used in the construction work outside to shake houses, there was one being used that would break water mains cutting off all water to houses. This explained the unwashed dishes. Usually I wouldn’t mind, but I had been just about to take a much-needed shower. I am not sure when the last time I showered was. My family barely ever showers. I think I’ve witnessed my little sister shower twice since being here and my little brother once. I shower a considerable amount more, probably more than all of them combined, and I have even cut down on my shower-taking quite a lot. I wonder how long it takes to fix broken water here… Hours? Days? I am also in dire need of some clothes washing. I’ve waited too long this time; I am going to have SO many clothes to wash. Washing clothes by hand takes such a long time. I am not looking forward to this.

The last few weeks of June are filled with Inti Raymi celebrations, which are celebrations of the sun. Last weekend there was a 3-day one in Canar. The community foundation that I am supposed to be working with decided the night before it that they wanted to try to sell food to make some money. We had a meeting that lasted over 3 hours on Thursday night to plan for the vending of food Fri., Sat., and Sun. Even after that, I had no idea how this was going to work out. They wanted to sell french fries, chicken, and possibly some water and liquor. They enlisted my help for Friday night and Saturday during the day.

I went during the day on Friday to hang out and check out the celebration. I ended up meeting up with 3 other volunteers that came to check it out. There were lots of venders selling food and crafts. There was also an arcade area along with a jenky-looking ferris wheel and their version of a carousel. There was one main stage. They had different groups of school children doing routines and traditional dances throughout the day. After several hours of hanging about, I said good-bye to my friends and returned to the food stand to see how things were coming along. Surprising to me, they had managed to pull their tent together and were succeeding in selling some food. I helped to peel some potatoes, but for the most part just hung around the tent. As it got later, the crowds started pouring in. It turned out that my little host brother, host nephew, and host grandpa were all participating in a traditional dance that night. It was neat to see them in their intricate traditional garb.

A few hours passed, and I confirmed that I would prefer to return home that night with my host family as opposed to staying the night as others were doing. The people that were staying were planning to stay up most of the night and if they did sleep, it would simply be under our food tent. It got to be about 11:30 when all of a sudden my host family announced that it was too late and thus too dangerous to return home and that we would have to stay the night and return the next morning. I was left speechless for a moment. Canar is even colder than Zhud; nights are very cold. They lay out a blanket on the ground in the back of the make-shift food tent and we all lied down next to each other and covered ourselves with another blanket that I had happened to bring. Luckily I had brought a lot of warm clothing/gear because I knew how cold it was and wanted to be prepared for just sitting there in the cold, not even imagining the idea of trying to sleep there… Not to mention the party was getting started so there were people all around and the music was blasting. I basically lay there for a few hours, drifting in and out of sleep a few times, but often just listening and watching. Finally just after 3 am, everyone started standing up. Rosa informed me that it was time to go home; it was now early morning so we it would be safer to travel now. I have doubts about their conceptions of safety at times. We hurried through the streets, dodging the drunkards stumbling around and the fights between the drunkards, toward the main road where we finally caught a bus back to Zhud. I crawled thankfully into bed at 5 am. I slept until 9:30, the absolute latest I have stayed in bed since being here.

Since my community really didn’t seem to need my help and since I put in my time the night before, I ended up meeting up with the 3 other volunteers again and going to check out Inga Pirca instead of returning to Canar. There were supposedly big festivities going on at Inga Pirca as well, which is the site of some very old ruins in the area. However, we arrived to find out that we had been very much mistaken. There were no celebrations occurring whatsoever. They were all happening the following weekend. Nonetheless we checked out the site for a while before actually heading to Cuenca. Somehow I was talked into going with them… There was a get-together that night to celebrate some of the other volunteers’ one year anniversary as well as to welcome my omnibus. As it turned out, I was the sole representative of my group. We had a fun night and it was good to meet some more people. We also returned to what is my favorite restaurant in Cuenca. It serves Columbian food and for the 2nd time (and every time hereafter), I ordered their lentil burger.

I ended up staying Sunday as well. I simply couldn’t bring myself to leave. We had stayed at Julie’s apartment. Myself and 2 others stayed all day to watch movies and make food. First we made banana carrot muffins and then pad thai for lunch. Eventually for dinner we made baked macaroni and cheese. It was just the kind of day I needed and a nice break from eating soup and potatoes. I got a few things done the next morning and then returned to Zhud.

I went to a meeting that night at 6 to discuss how the food vending had gone at Canar – turned out not that well. We just barely made our money back to cover our expenses. Somehow that meeting lasted until 9. I am getting way too accustomed to unnecessarily long 3 hour meetings lately. Then, just as I was about to leave, Manuel got my attention and informed me there was a meeting for us to go to in Cuenca the following morning at 9 am, which meant we had to leave at 6 am. I stared right back and repeated what he had just told me with what could be described as a not incredibly impressed expression on my face. I am sure he had known about this for quite some time, but somehow he only thought to mention it to me at 9 pm the night before. And now I am returning to Cuenca less than 24 hours after I just returned; I should’ve just stayed. Finally I simply agreed to go. Then I asked again about our meeting time in the morning: You want to meet at 6 am? 6 am exactly? He said yes, 6 am exactly. I arrived in the center at 6 am the next morning, with Manuel nowhere in sight. At 6:30 I finally called him. He said he was preparing and would arrive soon. He showed up around 7. Again, I was not terribly impressed. But we went to a good meeting related to sustainable agriculture and it looks as though a group of 3 professors is going to come to a few communities and try to help them start some initiatives, including our community.

I finally got sick the other day. I still don’t know what it was. I woke up feeling queasy one morning. It lasted all day and got worse in the afternoon. Eventually I even threw up. Then I lay in bed and didn’t move from about 4 pm until the next day. All I wanted was soda to sip on, some saltines, and a tv to watch movies on, and my mom of course. It was rather miserable. I feel better now, for the most part, though still a wee bit funny…

As far as my mental status, I am still confused and not incredibly content. I suppose that everything I am feeling is similar to how they warned us we would be feeling. While I suppose that is good to know, it doesn’t make it less real or less hard. I am still going to try to stick it out a bit longer and see how it goes. It is simply very difficult to find my role here and to know what I should be doing or where I can be useful.

And on that note I must be going. I have to go find somewhere to pee. I wonder when I’ll be able to shower. And wash my clothes. Good thing I could probably go a good deal longer without doing either and no one would notice…

This was written a few days ago… Since then the biggest news I have to add is that I got to watch the butchering of a pig. I purposefully missed the killing (it is supposed to be quite disturbing with the way the pig screams) but I watched them cut it up. Quite fascinating. I rather enjoyed it. Though I now have a few drops of pig blood stained on my sweatshirt.

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Comments

[Dad]

Earthquake pig
I could happily read every blog you write. It's all about the unaffected honesty that comes through: "Apparently I have not made it to status of one of her own children yet that she would actually retrieve me out of the house." I feel I am there with you. Except for life without a daily shower, that would be hard. Now that I am coming to the tie-less part of my life, I am quite deliberate in my choices. Today, in Hannah's honor, I sport the Wisconsin badger tie she gave me, and it worked. She left me a warm phone message and sent out this blog. THAT tie is a keeper.