Today(monday) I began "Teacher's Meetings" at my work. I work at a school called Colegio Santa Maria. It's an all boy's high school, similar to Chaminade in St. Louis - Marianist. The school year will begin in early March, summer is winding down so that means teachers meet to organize and prepare for the coming year.
In Peru there are 4 Marianist schools... all the teachers from each school come to these meetings, about 150 teachers. I met everyone and of course everyone already knows my story - "you're the guy who can't speak Spanish" - okay, true, kind of. But there are some nice people there that welcome me. We have an initial group meeting in a gymnasium, with the four schools separated sitting on the bleachers. Memories from Rockhurst come to mind where we did the same thing - during pep rallies we would sit with students from the same class as someone with a microphone would speak... we couldn't hear anything. Same thing here... not only are they speaking Spanish, which I understand about 50%, but it's in a gymnasium, the most acoustically-challenged building ever built. After the initial meeting in which I retained absolutely nothing, I receive a color, which indicates which small group I am in. I go to the small group, about 40 people, and we do icebreaker games - my favorite!!!
However, I have failed to mention one very important part of this story... this part I didn't learn until we started doing games and exercises in our small groups. The teacher's meetings aren't to prepare for next year, we take one whole week to have a company come in and talk about human rights, discrimination, racism, etc. This is a seminar on human rights. 8am to 2pm seminar... games, ice breakers, awkward silences, Spanish. Okay, sure, whatever, let's talk about the rights of humans.
Our first activity is a game. There is a board, looks similar to Twister (which got me excited at first because compared to 98% of these people I'm like an elite athlete), but it was not Twister... the arrows pointed to colors, and whatever color your arrow landed, that is the type of card you were to read. The guy leading the seminar turns to me and says, "Empiezas" which is "you start". I know what this phrase means, it didn't prevent me from saying "Excuse me!" in disbelief that I, of all people in this room, would be the guinea pig for this game. Whatever, as Lucia's dad said to me last weekend - The ducks must go to the water (very profound). So I turn the twister thing and it lands on green. I choose a green card and I read, out loud, what it says. It's bad, I must think of a puzzle, riddle, enigma and tell it to the class to see if they can figure it out.
I am not the type of person that can just say jokes - if you say to me, "Brian, tell me a joke." I couldn't think of anything... i don't know, maybe its because I hate clowns, I stay away from jokes. My humor is more quick-wit and stupid inside jokes about my friends. So I struggled to figure out what I was going to say... and how I was going to say it in Spanish. But, I remembered one that usually stumps everyone, but it has to be said in English... if I said it in Spanish I would give away the answer (due to the differences in feminine and masculine articles). First I asked if everyone knew English, which, most people did, and the few that didn't they now know how I feel all day not understanding anything.
The riddle - A father and son are driving and get into a car accident. The father dies in the accident, but his son survives and has to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery or else his leg must be amputated. The ambulance comes and takes him away to the hospital, they arrive to the ER, everyone is scrambling like crazy to prepare for surgery. The doctor walks up to the patient and says, "Oh my god, I can't operate on this person, this is my son."
How is this possible?
Thanks to my dad for telling me this years ago... it popped into my head at the right moment like I was destined to impress the crowd. So, after hearing the riddle, they talk amongst themselves trying to figure this out. They ask me question after question, "Is the doctor his Godfather (Padrino in Spanish)?"... "Is the doctor his grandfather?"... "Is the doctor a priest that was close to the family?" ... um, no, nada, nothing. So finally after they can't figure it out I tell them - "The doctor was the boy's mother." A giant "Ooohhhhhhhh" comes from the crowd (as I'm sure some of you are doing right now too). So, after this riddle everyone started to talk to me more, they started to understand that I couldn't speak Spanish very well and were much more open to help me participate. Well, after a riveting start to the game we continue with the next person until an hour later when the game finally ends. The purpose of the game - I'm not sure because they explained it afterward in Spanish and I didn't get it, so well, if I ever figure out the purpose I will be sure to let you know.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
For all the lovers out there
Valentine's Day in Peru is the same as in the US... the worst holiday of all time. But, since I have a bit of a romantic side to me (I moved to Peru for a girl... romantic or crazy... still up for debate) I still wanted to do something for Lucia. I have scarce resources here in Peru for this holiday, I don't have a car, I don't know where to shop... but I have found that those particular circumstances have led to the best presents. With the help of Lucia's parents as a cover I got the opportunity to set up a nice area on the side of a cliff ("side of a cliff" doesn't sound romantic, but think of the cliffs on the MTV show, Laguna Beach, then you'll know what I'm talking about). So, Lucia and I had a nice time eating cheese and bread and drinking some wine. Simple, but good. If you thought this was going to be some kind of horror story, I'm sorry I let you down... some good things happen in Peru too.
Rabies
As you may or may not know, last week I was attacked by 5 small to mid-size dogs. Total combined weight of these five dogs - 130 lbs. But, as the saying goes: It's not the size of the dog in the fight, its the size of the fight in the dog. But I've always hated this saying, ever since Coach Munninghoff first said it to me after he demoted me to the B-team during my freshman basketball season .....
To begin, everyday my commute to work consists of walking to the bus stop, riding cramped in a bus to a bridge on a highway, getting through the highway traffic on the bridge to the street running perpendicular below, then getting on another bus to my destination. This particular morning I am walking to the first bus stop and after about two blocks from Lucia's house I encounter three dogs. They run passed me, which I don't find to be particularly odd or scary, but now I have realized why they disguised themselves as nice dogs. After they run passed, two other dogs (chow mix) come around the same corner from which the previous 3 dogs appeared... this time, these dogs go straight for me. They start barking and biting my jeans... nothing too bad yet, I figure that if I keep walking and kicking they will leave me alone. But no, the other three dogs come at me from behind and box me in - they're not really biting, just barking loudly and nipping at me. But then one of the chows takes a good junk of my jeans and a little of my knee with a big bite. That's when I start to take the situation more seriously and start to kick and yell "Fuera!" (A phrase I might have to use in the classroom this year meaning, Get out!). I am near a fairly busy intersection and some people get out of their cars to help scare the dogs away.
The dogs finally leave me alone and run back to their home. I'm a little shaken up, not hurt too bad, so I decide to continue to work. After work I do the first thing any young man would do after his Banana Republic jeans were just ripped - call my mom. I get a to-do list of post dog bite remedies from mom and get started to try to find the owners of the dogs. I ask my new friend, Javier - the security guard outside of Lucia's house - and he points us in the right direction. Down a long gravel road, near Lucia's house, we find all five dogs behind a fence waiting for us. The house looks similar to something out of the remake Texas Chainsaw Massacre - windows are broken, bushes are overgrown around the house, old cars have been parked in the yard going on 28 years collecting dust. As Lucia and I walk up to the fence to ring the bell, four of the dogs come up to greet us with barks, but curiously the dog that bit me runs under one of the abandoned cars in the yard. We ring the doorbell on the gate and an old lady comes out to meet us - she is missing a significant amount of teeth and is wearing something she bought in 1941 (again, I'm thinking Texas Chainsaw Massacre, creepy old lady).
Lucia tells her my horrific, yet heroic, tale of that morning and we ask for the most current vaccinations of the dogs. The old woman can't believe that her dogs would do such a thing... she said that they never attack anyone. So the old lady walks inside to find the papers as Lucia and I wait patiently outside the fence as the dogs calmly watch us. We see a little girl walk up to the fence from inside the house... maybe a granddaughter. She asks what we're doing there so we tell her the story. She tells us... with the honesty that only an innocent child can possess... that her grandma lets the dogs out of the fence all the time and they always attack people. Interesting. The grandma comes back out, hears the tail-end of the little girl's story, and gives a good tap on the shoulder to shut her up. We check the papers and luckily the dogs are vaccinated. We spend the rest of the afternoon reporting the incident to the local doggy control center. Apparently my attack wasn't the first reported attack from these dogs... it was actually the fourth, but since this is Peru, not much was done to prevent it from happening again. I strongly encourage them to do something about the dogs since many children and people walk on that street every day. I'm thinking about writing my story into Banana Republic to be included in their "2009 Banana Republic Jeans Hero of the Year Award"... its a pretty good award. Lucia's dad told me that I was attacked because I left Cosmo at home with my parents when I came to Peru (Cosmo is my dog that I ditched with my parents before I came to Peru) and Cosmo is upset so he sent the Peruvian dogs to find me. Bold statement. I tell him that I find it hard to believe that Cosmo is some kind Lord of the Rings villain (Sauron sending his Ringwraiths after me), but whatever, Cosmo is a special dog and I would never doubt his powers.
To begin, everyday my commute to work consists of walking to the bus stop, riding cramped in a bus to a bridge on a highway, getting through the highway traffic on the bridge to the street running perpendicular below, then getting on another bus to my destination. This particular morning I am walking to the first bus stop and after about two blocks from Lucia's house I encounter three dogs. They run passed me, which I don't find to be particularly odd or scary, but now I have realized why they disguised themselves as nice dogs. After they run passed, two other dogs (chow mix) come around the same corner from which the previous 3 dogs appeared... this time, these dogs go straight for me. They start barking and biting my jeans... nothing too bad yet, I figure that if I keep walking and kicking they will leave me alone. But no, the other three dogs come at me from behind and box me in - they're not really biting, just barking loudly and nipping at me. But then one of the chows takes a good junk of my jeans and a little of my knee with a big bite. That's when I start to take the situation more seriously and start to kick and yell "Fuera!" (A phrase I might have to use in the classroom this year meaning, Get out!). I am near a fairly busy intersection and some people get out of their cars to help scare the dogs away.
The dogs finally leave me alone and run back to their home. I'm a little shaken up, not hurt too bad, so I decide to continue to work. After work I do the first thing any young man would do after his Banana Republic jeans were just ripped - call my mom. I get a to-do list of post dog bite remedies from mom and get started to try to find the owners of the dogs. I ask my new friend, Javier - the security guard outside of Lucia's house - and he points us in the right direction. Down a long gravel road, near Lucia's house, we find all five dogs behind a fence waiting for us. The house looks similar to something out of the remake Texas Chainsaw Massacre - windows are broken, bushes are overgrown around the house, old cars have been parked in the yard going on 28 years collecting dust. As Lucia and I walk up to the fence to ring the bell, four of the dogs come up to greet us with barks, but curiously the dog that bit me runs under one of the abandoned cars in the yard. We ring the doorbell on the gate and an old lady comes out to meet us - she is missing a significant amount of teeth and is wearing something she bought in 1941 (again, I'm thinking Texas Chainsaw Massacre, creepy old lady).
Lucia tells her my horrific, yet heroic, tale of that morning and we ask for the most current vaccinations of the dogs. The old woman can't believe that her dogs would do such a thing... she said that they never attack anyone. So the old lady walks inside to find the papers as Lucia and I wait patiently outside the fence as the dogs calmly watch us. We see a little girl walk up to the fence from inside the house... maybe a granddaughter. She asks what we're doing there so we tell her the story. She tells us... with the honesty that only an innocent child can possess... that her grandma lets the dogs out of the fence all the time and they always attack people. Interesting. The grandma comes back out, hears the tail-end of the little girl's story, and gives a good tap on the shoulder to shut her up. We check the papers and luckily the dogs are vaccinated. We spend the rest of the afternoon reporting the incident to the local doggy control center. Apparently my attack wasn't the first reported attack from these dogs... it was actually the fourth, but since this is Peru, not much was done to prevent it from happening again. I strongly encourage them to do something about the dogs since many children and people walk on that street every day. I'm thinking about writing my story into Banana Republic to be included in their "2009 Banana Republic Jeans Hero of the Year Award"... its a pretty good award. Lucia's dad told me that I was attacked because I left Cosmo at home with my parents when I came to Peru (Cosmo is my dog that I ditched with my parents before I came to Peru) and Cosmo is upset so he sent the Peruvian dogs to find me. Bold statement. I tell him that I find it hard to believe that Cosmo is some kind Lord of the Rings villain (Sauron sending his Ringwraiths after me), but whatever, Cosmo is a special dog and I would never doubt his powers.
Vacation with the In-Laws
(emailed February 11):
Have you ever been on vacation with your in-laws/girlfriend's family? If you have then you know how I feel right now. Everyday I must "check-in" with Lucia's parents during dinner. I am having an awesome time, its incredible here in Peru... but there are costs to living rent-free with your girlfriend's family. Like last night, Lucia went out for a friends birthday, I didn't want to go out because when people go out in Lima they stay out until 4 or 5 in the morning... since I am an old man I can't handle that and I declined to join Lucia. So, it was me and her dad eating dinner together and talking about many things. We have become pretty good friends I guess, and he is open to talk about most things with me. However, last night I learned a little too much info. Let's just say that if someone were to ask me when each of Lucia's brothers and sisters were conceived - I could tell you. Incredible... and when I say incredible, I mean horrible.
the cost of living in the same house as your girlfriend I guess.
Have you ever been on vacation with your in-laws/girlfriend's family? If you have then you know how I feel right now. Everyday I must "check-in" with Lucia's parents during dinner. I am having an awesome time, its incredible here in Peru... but there are costs to living rent-free with your girlfriend's family. Like last night, Lucia went out for a friends birthday, I didn't want to go out because when people go out in Lima they stay out until 4 or 5 in the morning... since I am an old man I can't handle that and I declined to join Lucia. So, it was me and her dad eating dinner together and talking about many things. We have become pretty good friends I guess, and he is open to talk about most things with me. However, last night I learned a little too much info. Let's just say that if someone were to ask me when each of Lucia's brothers and sisters were conceived - I could tell you. Incredible... and when I say incredible, I mean horrible.
the cost of living in the same house as your girlfriend I guess.
My new best friend - Marcial
(emailed February 11):
I wanted to share with you a story that happened to me yesterday. (Please read the below email first before you continue to read this). Okay, now that you're up-to-date with my visa process I can tell you about my new interpreter who can't speak English.
Marcial is my new best friend. He is in his late 60's, is a father of three and has two grandchildren. He and I drive around Lima all day taking care of all my paperwork. He doesn't speak English but I can speak a little Spanish so we get by okay. Tuesday morning I had to be at the Peruvian Work Minister at 7am to accomplish one of the scavenger hunt tasks on my list. Marcial picks me up and we go to the Minister. The doors are closed to the office and there is a line of people going around the building, similar to people waiting outside a homeless shelter for the doors to open for breakfast. Marcial looks at me and says, "Dios mio, mira a todos los gentes." Which just means... Oh my god, look at all the people.
So, I get in line as Marcial patiently waits in the car for me. I ask some people in front of me when the doors open and they said 7:30. Not bad, only 30 minute wait I guess. Around 7:30 a security guard comes out of the front door and one by one asks people why they are there and asks them to show proof of why they are there. I am not quite sure what he is doing, but by the time he gets to me he has kicked out 30 people for being in the wrong place and now I am standing fourth from the door. He gets to me, I show him my scavenger hunt list and tell him I'm here to pick up a couple things for my work visa. He gives me the okay and I feel like one of the lucky ones. Marcial actually got out of the car and walked over to make sure everything was okay. Then I ask the security guard when the doors will open and he says 8:30. I look at Marcial and he gives me the you've-got-to-be-kidding-look. Marcial decides to wait in line with me and we talk about many things, half of which I don't understand, but I get the gist of it and we continue to stand in line.
Finally, 8:30 comes and the doors open. We walk into the office, which looks more similar to a sweat shop than a work minister - but hell, I've never been in an office of a work minister (whatever that means) so I guess this is okay. There are many small desks everywhere, with workers behind them looking at their computers... I walked by one of the workers and she was looking at her Windows screen saver move around on her desktop - seriously. I am officially in the twighlight zone. I have my taxi driver/interpreter who is helping me ask who I need to talk to. We finally find the correct person and I give her all my information. She asks me several questions that I don't understand, so I do the natural thing and turn to my trusty interpreter standing next to me and give him a confused look. He says the exact same thing to me that the woman had just said... still in spanish.
I feel like I'm on Mars... my Spanish is at best primitive, like a 4 year old. I can communicate and get around the city okay, but when it comes to specific details about specific forms I am lost. So I look at Marcial with the same confused look that I gave the lady. At this point the lady is laughing at me because I brought someone with me that doesn't speak my language and really doesn't know much about what I'm doing... he's my taxi driver. After I get her to stop laughing at the two of us - Abbot and Costello comes to mind at this time - I hand her a form that I received from Santa Maria. She says that this form is for foreigners who are married to Peruvians. Since I'm not married I must fill out another form. I get the next form and it has another long list of things for me to do. I say thanks and we leave, but before we can go, the lady tells me something that makes me laugh... she says that I need a new interpreter.
At this point everyone in the office is laughing at us so I'm happy that I could make their morning a little brighter.
I wanted to share with you a story that happened to me yesterday. (Please read the below email first before you continue to read this). Okay, now that you're up-to-date with my visa process I can tell you about my new interpreter who can't speak English.
Marcial is my new best friend. He is in his late 60's, is a father of three and has two grandchildren. He and I drive around Lima all day taking care of all my paperwork. He doesn't speak English but I can speak a little Spanish so we get by okay. Tuesday morning I had to be at the Peruvian Work Minister at 7am to accomplish one of the scavenger hunt tasks on my list. Marcial picks me up and we go to the Minister. The doors are closed to the office and there is a line of people going around the building, similar to people waiting outside a homeless shelter for the doors to open for breakfast. Marcial looks at me and says, "Dios mio, mira a todos los gentes." Which just means... Oh my god, look at all the people.
So, I get in line as Marcial patiently waits in the car for me. I ask some people in front of me when the doors open and they said 7:30. Not bad, only 30 minute wait I guess. Around 7:30 a security guard comes out of the front door and one by one asks people why they are there and asks them to show proof of why they are there. I am not quite sure what he is doing, but by the time he gets to me he has kicked out 30 people for being in the wrong place and now I am standing fourth from the door. He gets to me, I show him my scavenger hunt list and tell him I'm here to pick up a couple things for my work visa. He gives me the okay and I feel like one of the lucky ones. Marcial actually got out of the car and walked over to make sure everything was okay. Then I ask the security guard when the doors will open and he says 8:30. I look at Marcial and he gives me the you've-got-to-be-kidding-look.
Finally, 8:30 comes and the doors open. We walk into the office, which looks more similar to a sweat shop than a work minister - but hell, I've never been in an office of a work minister (whatever that means) so I guess this is okay. There are many small desks everywhere, with workers behind them looking at their computers... I walked by one of the workers and she was looking at her Windows screen saver move around on her desktop - seriously. I am officially in the twighlight zone. I have my taxi driver/interpreter who is helping me ask who I need to talk to. We finally find the correct person and I give her all my information. She asks me several questions that I don't understand, so I do the natural thing and turn to my trusty interpreter standing next to me and give him a confused look. He says the exact same thing to me that the woman had just said... still in spanish.
I feel like I'm on Mars... my Spanish is at best primitive, like a 4 year old. I can communicate and get around the city okay, but when it comes to specific details about specific forms I am lost. So I look at Marcial with the same confused look that I gave the lady. At this point the lady is laughing at me because I brought someone with me that doesn't speak my language and really doesn't know much about what I'm doing... he's my taxi driver. After I get her to stop laughing at the two of us - Abbot and Costello comes to mind at this time - I hand her a form that I received from Santa Maria. She says that this form is for foreigners who are married to Peruvians. Since I'm not married I must fill out another form. I get the next form and it has another long list of things for me to do. I say thanks and we leave, but before we can go, the lady tells me something that makes me laugh... she says that I need a new interpreter.
At this point everyone in the office is laughing at us so I'm happy that I could make their morning a little brighter.
Immigration Bureaucracy
(Emailed: February 11)
Monday I go to the immigration office, get a list of things I need to do to get my work visa. There are six items on the list. This is like a scavenger hunt game... I have to visit each of these six places to fill out different forms and complete different kinds of tasks. However, each thing on the list has its own list. For example, the first thing on the list is to go to the Interpol office here in Lima to get a background check and to fill out a few more forms. Once I arrive to the Interpol office, of course no one speaks English so I have to do my best to talk to them in my primitive Spanish, but it works and I receive another list of things to do to accomplish the first item on my original list. I have to go to a bank and get a $18 money order payable to the US Treasury for purposes of an FBI background check. then I must go to another place to get my fingerprints and mug shot taken. Then I can go back to Interpol, fill out more paperwork, have a dental check (a doctor shines a light in my mouth for about a minute and gives me the okay), then I need to go to the post office to send an envelope full of my personal information to the FBI in West Virginia. So I go to a post office/mail center and the Peruvian mail system is a little behind the times. To get an envelope full of only papers/documents to West Virginia in 5 days it costs almost $40. So, once I send that information to the US that is the first thing done on the list... it only took me four hours.
Anyway, I finished 5 things on the list yesterday and Monday... so today I went to Santa Maria to fulfill number 6, which is the most complicated of them all... that is why I need my notarized degrees from the Peruvian Consulate in Chicago... as well as a few more things that I can take care of here in Lima within in the next week or so.
Monday I go to the immigration office, get a list of things I need to do to get my work visa. There are six items on the list. This is like a scavenger hunt game... I have to visit each of these six places to fill out different forms and complete different kinds of tasks. However, each thing on the list has its own list. For example, the first thing on the list is to go to the Interpol office here in Lima to get a background check and to fill out a few more forms. Once I arrive to the Interpol office, of course no one speaks English so I have to do my best to talk to them in my primitive Spanish, but it works and I receive another list of things to do to accomplish the first item on my original list. I have to go to a bank and get a $18 money order payable to the US Treasury for purposes of an FBI background check. then I must go to another place to get my fingerprints and mug shot taken. Then I can go back to Interpol, fill out more paperwork, have a dental check (a doctor shines a light in my mouth for about a minute and gives me the okay), then I need to go to the post office to send an envelope full of my personal information to the FBI in West Virginia. So I go to a post office/mail center and the Peruvian mail system is a little behind the times. To get an envelope full of only papers/documents to West Virginia in 5 days it costs almost $40. So, once I send that information to the US that is the first thing done on the list... it only took me four hours.
Anyway, I finished 5 things on the list yesterday and Monday... so today I went to Santa Maria to fulfill number 6, which is the most complicated of them all... that is why I need my notarized degrees from the Peruvian Consulate in Chicago... as well as a few more things that I can take care of here in Lima within in the next week or so.
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