Oh to be dead

So there are many differences in culture from the Southern States versus the Northern States. You can’t begin to imagine the differences in cultures when you go to another country. This past week my eyes have been opened to a new custom that I do not like. The way we treat our dead in the US is with respect (or more often than not), meaning a funeral is a solemn affair that is there to give the family and friends comfort and show support in their time of need. Also, although not a big fan of cookie cutter lives I do like that we have a plan or a sort of guide to what to do in the event of a death. So why all the death thinking…this week my families Tia Julia died. She and her mother lived alone a little up the hill from us. When she did the family asked if we would have her “wake” here at our house. Of course they said yes. What you ask does that entail, well first it is having the dead in their casket on display in the room next to where I sleep for 3 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope to one day become a medical examiner so I have no problem with the dead but sleeping with just a thin piece of wood between me and her. CREEPY! Then there is the tradition of staying up all night for the 2 nights she was here drinking and smoking. Somehow this is a celebration for the dead. Then the telling of her life (which was pretty cool). Today was the funeral and we went up to the cemetery and this is a true testament that I have literally gone back in time. They dug a hole made a wooden cross and wrote on it with marker and that’s it. When we were in the cemetery you couldn’t tell where people were buried because some us rocks and others us wooden items so of course they don’t last. It was so unnerving to know that I was walking on somebody’s grave and that no one was upset at the possibility. My host father even went so far to ask why I was walking funny….well trying to look for imperfections in the ground that will signify a grave. The more recent ones you could tell b/c the ground was still raised. Blows my mind. I mean I don’t want a huge to do when I do kick the bucket but I hope that my grave or whatever will still have the respect that it deserves. Oh and then I thought that was the end of the festivities but I was wrong we had one day of reprieve and then the next day everyone came again for breakfast and the washing of every clothing items of the dead. Why I’m still confused or what they are going to do with the clothes have no clue. And of course after the wash party we ate some CUY! which if you don’t know is guinnipig and is very VERY popular here. The favorite plate of almost everyone here.

On another personal note, I have never been the most patient person. Whether you see that as a flaw or a strength depends on how you look at it. For instance, I’m motivated to get my shit done and done to the best of my ability in the time allotted. I mean I think that is pretty standard in the US to some degree. Well here I have been tested….A LOT!!!! I mean wow can these people move like turtles. I’m currently teaching at the local high school. Which yes this is totally optional but if you are going to come and participate then participate! I ask them to do something and it is perfectly clear to them what I want and they sit until I come by them directly and most don’t do anything out of class. So super frustrating—mom don’t know how you have been a teacher for so long. Believe me when I say I would already be locked up for child abuse or in the crazy house. It is not only the students but the way of life here as well is at a speed 5X slower than even Ponca City, OK. The only time something is done in a timely manner is when they want something. Like my surveys I have to do---I have told them that I can’t even consider them for any future projects without one (which is not technically true) but I have done more surveys in the last week than half a months’ worth of work. I’m not trying to say that we are better in the states. The things that motivate aren’t always for good reasons either but it doesn’t take pulling teeth to get the majority of us to get our asses in gear! One of the traits I most miss in other people. And since I’m bitching I hate hate hate that one event or funny story is retold until the horse is not only dead but half decayed! The one in particular I’m thinking about happened on New Years. Here the tradition is to burn a doll made of old clothes to burn away the bad of the old year to make way for the new possibilities. As a joke I started dancing with our doll and we called him my boyfriend. I pretend cried when they burned him and I think every person that my host mom talks to knows this story. Which at first was a nice opening to talking to people especially the shyer ones, but now I just want to pull out my hair because of how many times it has been told. Also, I’m expected to have the same enthusiasm every time but I have run out of new things to say about it and I HATE REPEATING MYSELF OVER AND OVER! Ah what I wouldn’t give for a really nice bottle of wine and a good book and my reading chair with my KD blanket wrapped around me. A simple dream but God can hardly wait til I have those moments again. Haha. So melodramatic…someone needs to slap me and say just enjoy the fact that you’re in another country in a once and a life time opportunity! PS God does love me because the coffee I have been sent is seriously so good every morning!!!!! Don’t think I would be quite as nice without it….

Speaking of nice, I have now been told twice that I look like I’m getting fatter. I mean are they trying to drive me to an eating disorder? I think that they are. Culture or no culture I don’t find it appropriate or a funny joke to tell me I’m getting fat like it is no big deal. My friend Hayden the other day said “with all the weight talk here in Peru it could drive even the most confident of women to an eating disorder” and damn but she is right. Although I wish my eating disorder was the kind that leads to me eating less not more, haha, can’t seem to fill my belly up now. Now ain’t that just shitty. Ha ha. But there is hope at the end of this hellish tunnel and its called running mountains::::my new favorite thing to do!