My last post was sort of moody, I felt, so I have been wanting to write a peppier! happier! blog. But this is not it. I´m not sad or anything. I´m just . . . bleh.
You thought moving to another country would solve all of your problems, didn´t you? You´re so silly.
I am involved with a church that I like. On Saturday I went with some of them to do this program for kids in a poor area. The kids were really cool. They wanted me to teach them english next time I come.
I have a place to live. I will start paying rent when I get paid and that is really cool. Cooler than living in a hostel, although that sounds kind of romantic. I would meet people, but would have no space. I am taking really good spanish classes and like my classmates and teacher. I have a job teaching english, which I hate a little bit but whatever.
But some other things I was expectings, volunteering with this organization and working at this restaurant, I am unsure about because people haven´t been getting back to me. I should be proactive and just pursue other things, I know. Sometimes I do, sometimes I just watch tv.
You know how in the US they will put any crappy movie on tv? Well, here, they really put anything on tv. Even crappier, even stranger, more bizarre movies that you´ve never heard of.
You know when you start watching a movie and you don´t have the cable description of the movie so you´re just watching it to see what it is and the movie totally blows your mind? Like, I would never, NEVER have imagined a movie where Richard Gere is a gynocologist and Kate Hudson is his lesbian daughter who is going to marry a man and Liv Tyler is her girlfriend who is also going to be a bridesmaid and goes to see Richard Gere for a gyn app. And I realize this is a better known film, but I likewise could never have imagined a film with Morgan Freeman, Chris Rock, Aaron Eckhart, Renee Zwelleger and Greg Kinnear. While eating breakfast the other morning, I watched Chris Rock do a very unpleasant thing to Aaron Eckhart, who actually carried off a mullet and aviators. Sort of like the convenience store guy in Ghost World, but better-looking. Anyway. Being american, I love Morgan Freeman. And Christ Rock. And it was extremely disturbing to see them in an uncomplimentary light. I am barely recovered.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
i should stop watching friends reruns, and getting another job
I had this really maudlin moment the other day, watching the end of the friends episode where everybody moves out of the apartment. I got the worst pang for college, especially the end of senior year. Even though I was kind of an anxious wreck during senior year. And didn´t graduate. But it actually was really great, and I miss it in retrospect. I miss what I wanted it to be or something. I didn´t keep in touch with my friends from college very well. I don´t even know why. They were really amazing and I loved them, but I started distancing myself from them before we had even graduated.
Maybe I felt like I didn´t have the college experience I had been planning since I was 12. Even though it was really amazing, especially freshman year. My junior year I was in Scotland, away from everyone. They mostly chose to go . . . somewhere in Europe. I forget.
Looking back, I see that I had really high expectations for senior year. I had such an idealistic, dramatic stage set for that year. I let myself get really . . . bitter or something, when it didn´t turn out exactly as I´d imagined. I think I´ve gotten better at not having expectations and just enjoying experiences and people for who and what they are. It´s a struggle sometimes. Part of me still wants my life to be this subtle, nuanced but still dramatic indie film, skipping the overly pedestrian, insipid parts and highlighting the painful, thrilling, really ¨authentic¨ parts of my life. But I want to be a girl in a movie like that, and that girl wouldn´t be thinking like this. Sometimes I feel like I´m 17, not 27.
Also, I have a waitressing job at a restaurant connected with a hostel. No, actually I would be hostessing. I can start as soon as my teaching english is finished, in 2 weeks. The interview was in spanish. Look at me, I can speak spanish. He said if it ever got too late for me to go home, I could sleep at the hostel for free because he considered me like his daughter. ha ha.
Maybe I felt like I didn´t have the college experience I had been planning since I was 12. Even though it was really amazing, especially freshman year. My junior year I was in Scotland, away from everyone. They mostly chose to go . . . somewhere in Europe. I forget.
Looking back, I see that I had really high expectations for senior year. I had such an idealistic, dramatic stage set for that year. I let myself get really . . . bitter or something, when it didn´t turn out exactly as I´d imagined. I think I´ve gotten better at not having expectations and just enjoying experiences and people for who and what they are. It´s a struggle sometimes. Part of me still wants my life to be this subtle, nuanced but still dramatic indie film, skipping the overly pedestrian, insipid parts and highlighting the painful, thrilling, really ¨authentic¨ parts of my life. But I want to be a girl in a movie like that, and that girl wouldn´t be thinking like this. Sometimes I feel like I´m 17, not 27.
Also, I have a waitressing job at a restaurant connected with a hostel. No, actually I would be hostessing. I can start as soon as my teaching english is finished, in 2 weeks. The interview was in spanish. Look at me, I can speak spanish. He said if it ever got too late for me to go home, I could sleep at the hostel for free because he considered me like his daughter. ha ha.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
those who can´t teach . . .
My class was so great last night! I had another conversation with my boss where I told him that my students were at at least two different levels, and that four of the five shouldn´t have passed their previous class (which he taught). He was like ¨Yeah, I know. They are really slow.¨ I refrained from telling him that that was more a commentary on their teacher than on them.
I decided I shouldn´t try to teach them material from this class when they don´t know anything from their first class. I don´t know how that will go over, or how far we´ll be able to get, but that´s really all I can do. Last night´s class was really fun though. The guy who is conversational wasn´t there, and that helped a lot. The others are intimated to speak in front of him and he keeps translating what I say to them. I think I´m going to give him more advanced work pages and stick him in a corner. But I did a ¨review¨ with them of ten questions, what is your name, where do you live, that they were supposed to ask each other and write down the answers in the correct form. Her name is, she lives . . . It took us the entire hour and a half to do this supposed review. None of them knew the difference between the pronouns I ,you, he she it and possessive pronouns my, your, his, her. I´m not sure what they learned in their class but it wasn´t that. And they told my boss that they couldn´t understand when I spoke to them in english, so he asked me to speak to them in spanish. It´s such a bad school. Anyway. So I spoke to them in spanish a little bit, but also told them that they should speak in english, anything, even if it´s incorrect. They´re used to being spoken to in spanish while they learn english, and it is uncomfortable not understanding. But I think we had a good class.
I decided I shouldn´t try to teach them material from this class when they don´t know anything from their first class. I don´t know how that will go over, or how far we´ll be able to get, but that´s really all I can do. Last night´s class was really fun though. The guy who is conversational wasn´t there, and that helped a lot. The others are intimated to speak in front of him and he keeps translating what I say to them. I think I´m going to give him more advanced work pages and stick him in a corner. But I did a ¨review¨ with them of ten questions, what is your name, where do you live, that they were supposed to ask each other and write down the answers in the correct form. Her name is, she lives . . . It took us the entire hour and a half to do this supposed review. None of them knew the difference between the pronouns I ,you, he she it and possessive pronouns my, your, his, her. I´m not sure what they learned in their class but it wasn´t that. And they told my boss that they couldn´t understand when I spoke to them in english, so he asked me to speak to them in spanish. It´s such a bad school. Anyway. So I spoke to them in spanish a little bit, but also told them that they should speak in english, anything, even if it´s incorrect. They´re used to being spoken to in spanish while they learn english, and it is uncomfortable not understanding. But I think we had a good class.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
those who can´t do, teach
So my english class is kind of a disaster. The language institute where I´m teaching is not the highest quality institution, shall we say. Which is why I´m allowed to teach there without working papers. It pretty much just exists to make money. And if people happen to learn another language in the meantime, so much the better. The instruction I received mostly included telling me how slow my students were and how it wasn´t in my best interest to fail anyone, ever, for anything.
There are five people in the class, which would be awesome if they had similar ability levels. But no. One guy is at a conversational level and keeps translating what I say for the rest of the class. Three people are at a similar level, I think I could work with them, but they probably shouldn´t have passed english 1. I think I am teaching basic english 2. I don´t know enough spanish to teach a class in it, so I don´t have that option. But when I took basic spanish 2 , the teacher spoke exclusively in spanish. And I learned so much in that class. But at this school, the students and teachers are mostly native spanish-speakers and they speak in spanish all through the begininng english classes. It is a terrible way to learn. That is how my spanish classes in the US were. We spoke english all through class, and then just had these little moments of speaking in spanish, like it was a special occasion. I think the best thing a class can do is to make you feel like you can speak, and that you have to speak. If you have the option of speaking in your new language or not, you will feel that whatever you say in that language has to be perfect. And you can´t learn a language by learning all the rules and then speaking. You have to start speaking and that´s how you learn. Like a baby starting to speak. The class I sat in on last week didn´t include a lot of speaking by the students. And when they did speak, it was like they were on trial to see if they used the correct grammar. I thought it wouldn´t be hard to do better than that, but these students are at such different levels. Oh yeah, the fifth guy. He might as well have never heard of english. He should also be in another class. The curriculum I have to work with is not good, and it is british english. So the students will learn all about Ceri, who trains for her rugby matches, even though all my students are a hundred times more likely to go to the US than to go to the UK. It is like me learning Spanish from Spain (which is what I´m learning) even though I am in Peru, where the language is actually Castilian. Pronunciation and vocabulary differ as much as between american and british english, I think.
Four of my five students don´t know how to pronounce things. Although now that I´m thinking about it, learning english pronunciation must be way harder to learn because there are no real rules. (Are there rules?) Spanish has pretty straightforward rules about how to pronounce a word and which syllable to stress. English must seem pretty capricious by constrast.
If someone really wants to learn a language, I guess they can do it there. In spite of everything. But these people work all day, and some drive an hour to get here. They don´t have time to do more than come to class for an hour and a half a day. Which is actually a lot, but I don´t know what to do for them. My boss doesn´t care what I do. He said I can´t take the books home, but I should show up a few minutes early to prepare for class. The amount of outside work I´d have to do to make it a good class and to actually address the needs of my students and the amount I´m getting paid for the class are in different universes. I hope they´re not paying too much for the class.
There are five people in the class, which would be awesome if they had similar ability levels. But no. One guy is at a conversational level and keeps translating what I say for the rest of the class. Three people are at a similar level, I think I could work with them, but they probably shouldn´t have passed english 1. I think I am teaching basic english 2. I don´t know enough spanish to teach a class in it, so I don´t have that option. But when I took basic spanish 2 , the teacher spoke exclusively in spanish. And I learned so much in that class. But at this school, the students and teachers are mostly native spanish-speakers and they speak in spanish all through the begininng english classes. It is a terrible way to learn. That is how my spanish classes in the US were. We spoke english all through class, and then just had these little moments of speaking in spanish, like it was a special occasion. I think the best thing a class can do is to make you feel like you can speak, and that you have to speak. If you have the option of speaking in your new language or not, you will feel that whatever you say in that language has to be perfect. And you can´t learn a language by learning all the rules and then speaking. You have to start speaking and that´s how you learn. Like a baby starting to speak. The class I sat in on last week didn´t include a lot of speaking by the students. And when they did speak, it was like they were on trial to see if they used the correct grammar. I thought it wouldn´t be hard to do better than that, but these students are at such different levels. Oh yeah, the fifth guy. He might as well have never heard of english. He should also be in another class. The curriculum I have to work with is not good, and it is british english. So the students will learn all about Ceri, who trains for her rugby matches, even though all my students are a hundred times more likely to go to the US than to go to the UK. It is like me learning Spanish from Spain (which is what I´m learning) even though I am in Peru, where the language is actually Castilian. Pronunciation and vocabulary differ as much as between american and british english, I think.
Four of my five students don´t know how to pronounce things. Although now that I´m thinking about it, learning english pronunciation must be way harder to learn because there are no real rules. (Are there rules?) Spanish has pretty straightforward rules about how to pronounce a word and which syllable to stress. English must seem pretty capricious by constrast.
If someone really wants to learn a language, I guess they can do it there. In spite of everything. But these people work all day, and some drive an hour to get here. They don´t have time to do more than come to class for an hour and a half a day. Which is actually a lot, but I don´t know what to do for them. My boss doesn´t care what I do. He said I can´t take the books home, but I should show up a few minutes early to prepare for class. The amount of outside work I´d have to do to make it a good class and to actually address the needs of my students and the amount I´m getting paid for the class are in different universes. I hope they´re not paying too much for the class.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
job!!
I think I have a job. Teaching English. Because I know English. I think it counts as a skill. Also, I may have said that I taught English as a second language to children. By which I meant that at the preschool, my favorite kid (who is Japanese) had his cousins come one week and they only spoke Japanese and I forced said four-year old to translate for me. That counts, right? My next entry will be about whether I actually get paid for said job. Also, my roommate might not move but keep living in this apartment and I could pay rent and keep living here. All these maybe´s.
I just watched Frost vs. Nixon. It was great, really amazing performances. That´s all for today.
I just watched Frost vs. Nixon. It was great, really amazing performances. That´s all for today.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
why??
The good thing about the buses here is that they will pick you up and drop you off within a few feet of anywhere you want to be. The bad thing about the buses is that they might start accelerating while you are transitioning from ground to bus or vice versa.
I hate my new spanish class. My former teacher was perfect and adorable and pretty strict about keeping us on target. We had constant practice, constant conversation. I learned so much in that class. My current teacher is pregnant in kind of a disgusting way. I know that is pretty uncharitable to express, but she´s always hiking her pants up under her belly and it grosses me out. Also, the class is 3 times the size of the former. (9 or 10 students instead of 3.) But she is also way more more casual than my first teacher. I feel like she is teaching us spanish in this very casual, optional way. But we are in a spanish-speaking country, and I think there should be more urgency in getting students to the point of being able to express themselves. For example, we spent almost the entire two hours today discussing vegetables. I don´t care! I mean, I kind of do, but it would be way more helpful to learn verb conjugations than to be able to write a shopping list. People here are very friendly-- there´s always ¿como se dice . . . ? and pointing.
Also, I kind of want to kill some of the people in my class. But mostly my teacher. Betsy said I should ask her to be better at her job. HA ha ha. I love you, Betsy.
My deep thought for the day-- classrooms are like democracy. It is a system that theoretically could bring everyone up to the highest level (what´s that phrase-- a rising tide raises all boats? or something, even though that refers to economics) but inevitably brings everyone down to the lowest common denominator.
I hate my new spanish class. My former teacher was perfect and adorable and pretty strict about keeping us on target. We had constant practice, constant conversation. I learned so much in that class. My current teacher is pregnant in kind of a disgusting way. I know that is pretty uncharitable to express, but she´s always hiking her pants up under her belly and it grosses me out. Also, the class is 3 times the size of the former. (9 or 10 students instead of 3.) But she is also way more more casual than my first teacher. I feel like she is teaching us spanish in this very casual, optional way. But we are in a spanish-speaking country, and I think there should be more urgency in getting students to the point of being able to express themselves. For example, we spent almost the entire two hours today discussing vegetables. I don´t care! I mean, I kind of do, but it would be way more helpful to learn verb conjugations than to be able to write a shopping list. People here are very friendly-- there´s always ¿como se dice . . . ? and pointing.
Also, I kind of want to kill some of the people in my class. But mostly my teacher. Betsy said I should ask her to be better at her job. HA ha ha. I love you, Betsy.
My deep thought for the day-- classrooms are like democracy. It is a system that theoretically could bring everyone up to the highest level (what´s that phrase-- a rising tide raises all boats? or something, even though that refers to economics) but inevitably brings everyone down to the lowest common denominator.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
work etc
There are many important things I could be writing about. Last month, the Peruvian Supreme Court indicted former president Fujimori of human rights abuses. That is the first time a country has done that. I think. He was sentenced to 25 years in prison, but he is old so it is kind of like life in prison. It was very important that his own country sentenced him. So often, it seems like might makes right, from the richest nations to third-world countries. But especially in a country like Peru, where presidents have the power to change the constitution! So, that was pretty momentous. I watched some of the sentencing portion of the trial.
But the things that preoccupy me the most have to do with . . . me. For example, I hate that a taxi cannot pass me by without honking or whistling-- I look like a foreigner, therefore I am obviously incapable of taking the bus. I might need to study a map, turning around to orient myself, but I get where I need to go. At first, I might have secretly loved being the only blonde, but now I am sick of it. I really actually hate the taxi thing. Even when I´m walking decisively, keys in hand, they honk and slow down. There are more taxis than private cars on the road, so it´s not like it´s difficult to find one. It´s just insulting. Like not only am I too stupid to take a bus, I´m too stupid to see the taxi and so they have to honk at me. If my hair was still black, no one would notice me. But would I like that? That is the question.
This morning I had my first day of basico tres espanol. There are 8 or 10 people in the class, all japanese or german. I woke up at 730 this morning. I think it was good for me. I met one of the english teachers, a girl from texas. She met a peruvian when they both studied at the univerisity of Mississippi (Mississippi!), got married and now they live here. She said I should work here. But I found out I need a work card. You can get this if a company gives you a contract, sort of sponsoring you, but only professional companies do that, or if one of your parents is peruvian or if you marry a peruvian. So, I might get married so I can get a job here. I will expect toasters and throw pillows when I return.
However, I am also exploring less glamorous options, like working at a hostel. This one I went to today looks better than the one where I was originally going to stay, more organized and more legit. Except that the guy did ask me if I was ¨fun.¨ That kind of made me hate him. But we will see. I could also probably work in a crappier language school. I will investigate that this week.
I definitely love Peru, but it is hard to know if it is true love, because I always love new places. Unless I am lonely. Anyway, I am meeting more people. It is cool. Next week I have a meeting with a woman from WordMadeFlesh (a christian organization who works with street kids and I guess does other stuff) so I can volunteer. And I have friends from church, and soon maybe friends from my class. I love the girl I am staying with. She´s mostly at work, and I have the house to myself, which I love love love. But we have also hung out several times and she is funny and a good cook and a good listener. Maybe I can marry her for a work card, but I don´t know if that is legal here. In spain it is though.
But the things that preoccupy me the most have to do with . . . me. For example, I hate that a taxi cannot pass me by without honking or whistling-- I look like a foreigner, therefore I am obviously incapable of taking the bus. I might need to study a map, turning around to orient myself, but I get where I need to go. At first, I might have secretly loved being the only blonde, but now I am sick of it. I really actually hate the taxi thing. Even when I´m walking decisively, keys in hand, they honk and slow down. There are more taxis than private cars on the road, so it´s not like it´s difficult to find one. It´s just insulting. Like not only am I too stupid to take a bus, I´m too stupid to see the taxi and so they have to honk at me. If my hair was still black, no one would notice me. But would I like that? That is the question.
This morning I had my first day of basico tres espanol. There are 8 or 10 people in the class, all japanese or german. I woke up at 730 this morning. I think it was good for me. I met one of the english teachers, a girl from texas. She met a peruvian when they both studied at the univerisity of Mississippi (Mississippi!), got married and now they live here. She said I should work here. But I found out I need a work card. You can get this if a company gives you a contract, sort of sponsoring you, but only professional companies do that, or if one of your parents is peruvian or if you marry a peruvian. So, I might get married so I can get a job here. I will expect toasters and throw pillows when I return.
However, I am also exploring less glamorous options, like working at a hostel. This one I went to today looks better than the one where I was originally going to stay, more organized and more legit. Except that the guy did ask me if I was ¨fun.¨ That kind of made me hate him. But we will see. I could also probably work in a crappier language school. I will investigate that this week.
I definitely love Peru, but it is hard to know if it is true love, because I always love new places. Unless I am lonely. Anyway, I am meeting more people. It is cool. Next week I have a meeting with a woman from WordMadeFlesh (a christian organization who works with street kids and I guess does other stuff) so I can volunteer. And I have friends from church, and soon maybe friends from my class. I love the girl I am staying with. She´s mostly at work, and I have the house to myself, which I love love love. But we have also hung out several times and she is funny and a good cook and a good listener. Maybe I can marry her for a work card, but I don´t know if that is legal here. In spain it is though.
Friday, May 1, 2009
the move and the food
I have been threatened if I do not update my blog. I had lots of profound things to say, but I forget them now. I gave myself a bob with children´s safety scissors that I brought from the US in case Peru hadn´t invented them yet or something. It actually looks pretty good. I´ve been watching the season of One Tree Hill where Peyton had that really cool long blonde bob that was so much better than her stupid Madame Alexander doll curls. I think it inspired me.
I moved out of Jorge´s family´s house a few days ago and into an apartment with his cousin Indhira. She had an extra bedroom and said I could stay with her, rent free, until she moves to another apartment to be closer to her job. I think in a few weeks or a month she is moving.
This is a new chapter of my time in Peru, my pseudo-independant life. This new life includes things like being massively proud of myself for going to the grocery store, figuring out how to buy stuff, getting lost but then unlost, finding the house, and using the keys to get in.
Indhira knows more English than I know spanish but hasn´t been using it lately. Last night she came home late, we went to buy wine and then stayed up talking about relationships, the differences between men and women, death and the meaning of life in some kind of english-spanish hybrid. It was fun. I can kind of speak in spanish, but then switch over to english when I reach my boundaries of spanish. Kind of exhausting trying to understand a new language when you don´t really speak it. I am not even in basic 3 yet! Next week I will be. My institute has 10 levels of basic, 4 of intermediate and 4 of advanced. Each course is one month. I will not even make it to intermediate! I am sad.
It was exciting going grocery shopping though. I love food here. Peru has these condiments that are ubiquitous and so delicious. Like salsa rocoto which is made with peppers from here and garlic and is so good and this yellow creme sauce that is kind of like highly flavored, spicy mayonaise but so much better and they are at supermarkets delis. Also this stuff called manjar blanco. It is basically spreadable caramel sauce but is somehow acceptable to eat on bread for breakfast. Another condiment is olive sauce. Which I think is just like mashed olives. It is really amazing. Another delicious food here is the enchilada. But it is not the enchilada you are thinking of. Instead, this is a head-sized tortilla that is really not a tortilla but more like a crepe, crammed with shredded chicken, fried sausage and egg, salad, these ubiquitous chips that look like French´s french fried onions but are really more like skinny potato chips and topped with any sauces you want. Like hot sauce, salsa, mayonaise, olive sauce, creme sauce . . . a million different sauces. It is this hot mess that is completely delicious and I am salivating as I write this . . .
I need a job but for some reason people here consider speaking spanish helpful for working here.
Today is Labor Day. I think things are closed. I don´t know, I haven´t been out of the house yet. But I am going out imminently. I am trying to keep my english from going as I attempt to learn Spanish. I still can´t really speak spanish and if my english goes before I learn, I will have no language and be reduced to totally relying on hand gestures instead of just mostly relying on them as I do currently.
One deep thought about Peru before I forget and the knowledge is lost to the world. I have been noticing how so many institutions, stores, everywhere seem to make such grand gestures at formality. Neighborhoods have uniformed security guards. Every store has one, many houses have one. The cashiers at major supermarkets have identical uniforms down to matching hairstyles and identical yellow scrunchies. Even sanitation workers have identical, distinctive uniforms and people who sell certain things have uniforms that are walking advertisements for Nivea or Nestle. The thing I noticed was the uniforms, but also the attitude that went with it. People that wear them are very solicitous, even if you look young or poor. They greet you solicitously, ask if you need help. I´ve gone into expensive stores looking like a punky 15 yr old and they still act that way. It´s a far cry from snotty baristas and cashiers with attitude. In the US, I´ve waited in line while the girls behind the counter gossipped and ignored me until I finally left without buying anything. Like the scene in Romy and Michelle´s Highschool Reunion when Mira Sorvino holds up the line at the car place to call Lisa Kudrow and tell her that she saw Janeane Garofalo. Like that.
The country does not possess a long history of social stability and structure. They don´t take for granted the structure and stability that they do have, and demonstrate and reinforce it with immediately visible symbols of order. Ok, that is all for today. My new roommate is making ceviche, which is raw fish cured with lemon juice and it is very delicious.
I moved out of Jorge´s family´s house a few days ago and into an apartment with his cousin Indhira. She had an extra bedroom and said I could stay with her, rent free, until she moves to another apartment to be closer to her job. I think in a few weeks or a month she is moving.
This is a new chapter of my time in Peru, my pseudo-independant life. This new life includes things like being massively proud of myself for going to the grocery store, figuring out how to buy stuff, getting lost but then unlost, finding the house, and using the keys to get in.
Indhira knows more English than I know spanish but hasn´t been using it lately. Last night she came home late, we went to buy wine and then stayed up talking about relationships, the differences between men and women, death and the meaning of life in some kind of english-spanish hybrid. It was fun. I can kind of speak in spanish, but then switch over to english when I reach my boundaries of spanish. Kind of exhausting trying to understand a new language when you don´t really speak it. I am not even in basic 3 yet! Next week I will be. My institute has 10 levels of basic, 4 of intermediate and 4 of advanced. Each course is one month. I will not even make it to intermediate! I am sad.
It was exciting going grocery shopping though. I love food here. Peru has these condiments that are ubiquitous and so delicious. Like salsa rocoto which is made with peppers from here and garlic and is so good and this yellow creme sauce that is kind of like highly flavored, spicy mayonaise but so much better and they are at supermarkets delis. Also this stuff called manjar blanco. It is basically spreadable caramel sauce but is somehow acceptable to eat on bread for breakfast. Another condiment is olive sauce. Which I think is just like mashed olives. It is really amazing. Another delicious food here is the enchilada. But it is not the enchilada you are thinking of. Instead, this is a head-sized tortilla that is really not a tortilla but more like a crepe, crammed with shredded chicken, fried sausage and egg, salad, these ubiquitous chips that look like French´s french fried onions but are really more like skinny potato chips and topped with any sauces you want. Like hot sauce, salsa, mayonaise, olive sauce, creme sauce . . . a million different sauces. It is this hot mess that is completely delicious and I am salivating as I write this . . .
I need a job but for some reason people here consider speaking spanish helpful for working here.
Today is Labor Day. I think things are closed. I don´t know, I haven´t been out of the house yet. But I am going out imminently. I am trying to keep my english from going as I attempt to learn Spanish. I still can´t really speak spanish and if my english goes before I learn, I will have no language and be reduced to totally relying on hand gestures instead of just mostly relying on them as I do currently.
One deep thought about Peru before I forget and the knowledge is lost to the world. I have been noticing how so many institutions, stores, everywhere seem to make such grand gestures at formality. Neighborhoods have uniformed security guards. Every store has one, many houses have one. The cashiers at major supermarkets have identical uniforms down to matching hairstyles and identical yellow scrunchies. Even sanitation workers have identical, distinctive uniforms and people who sell certain things have uniforms that are walking advertisements for Nivea or Nestle. The thing I noticed was the uniforms, but also the attitude that went with it. People that wear them are very solicitous, even if you look young or poor. They greet you solicitously, ask if you need help. I´ve gone into expensive stores looking like a punky 15 yr old and they still act that way. It´s a far cry from snotty baristas and cashiers with attitude. In the US, I´ve waited in line while the girls behind the counter gossipped and ignored me until I finally left without buying anything. Like the scene in Romy and Michelle´s Highschool Reunion when Mira Sorvino holds up the line at the car place to call Lisa Kudrow and tell her that she saw Janeane Garofalo. Like that.
The country does not possess a long history of social stability and structure. They don´t take for granted the structure and stability that they do have, and demonstrate and reinforce it with immediately visible symbols of order. Ok, that is all for today. My new roommate is making ceviche, which is raw fish cured with lemon juice and it is very delicious.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
