Canete

Before I went to The States I went to visit to a small town, Canete, about an hour outside of Lima. I went with Lucia's brother, Francisco, to help build some houses. Really, all of the credit goes to Francisco and his friends. They've been going to this same neighborhood for the past year helping these people live a more healthy and happy life. I was just tagging along to see how many measurements I could screw up or how many of my fingers I could crush while attempting to use a hammer. I'm not exactly well known in the family to have good carpentry or manual labor skills, but I can try.

To get to Canete we took a number of buses. And although I will give Francisco all of the credit for the hard work we did in Canete, I will blame him for one thing - we left Lima at the worst possible time - 7:30pm, the height of rush hour... at the point in the day when you climb into a hot, smelly, damp, and smoggy bus... when your personal space has been invaded and demolished to the point of complete helplessness. If you're a Seinfeld fan, remember the "Close Talker" character and multiply him times 10.
I'm talking about a situation in which you're no longer lucky if you find a seat. No, the people sitting are the people feeling the most discomfort - If the bus arrives at their destination, they don't have enough time to stand up and wade through the crowd of people to get off before the bus has moved onto the next stop. I would definitely compare it to those puzzle-like games that have 8 pieces for 9 spots, one of which is missing, and you have to move the pieces around in a certain order to make the picture. "Wait, you go there, then I go there, then you sir... you go over there, then I climb over your left arm, then you sit there, etc etc". And even worse, if you're sitting down that means that the people who are standing up are at the perfect height to have their butts directly in your face. Trust me, I'm standing up in that situation and I think if you had the choice, you would do the same.

The first couple of buses were simply maneuvering our way through the city. Our second to last bus got us to the main highway - Panamericana. We were literally dropped off on the side of the busiest highway in Peru, at the busiest time of the day. It was not a comforting feeling just standing on the side of the highway waiting for our next ride to come. Francisco saw our bus, which to me looked exactly like all of the others, but he somehow knew this one went south to Canete and the others did not (the Peruvian sixth sense that I have yet to acquire). Luckily, it wasn't too crowded and had two vacant seats for the hour drive from Lima to Canete. When we arrived to Canete Francisco and I stayed the night at a dormitory building inside of a small trade and farming college. It wasn't too bad.

The work: Well, in short, we built little houses for people - Pre-fabricated houses that we simply had to put together safely and securely. The one problem I had was the lack of efficient tools. Nails, hammers, screws, screw-drivers, and possibly a modern level. One of the more difficult aspects of building these houses was making a level floor. The landscape is sand... uneven sand, everywhere. However, the guys had thought of a really clever and make-shift way to level everything. (I'm sure this strategy has been around for years, but I had never seen or heard of it before). They had clear plastic water hoses and they got a bucket of water, siphoned the water through the hose until it was almost full of water... then stood up each end of the hose at two corners of the house so that water wasn't flowing out. If the surface of the water at each end of the hose didn't match flush with the floorboard then we knew it wasn't level. (*by doing a quick read online of the Peace Corps book, "Handbook for Building Homes of Earth" I found that this method is called the Water Hose Method. If you can't tell, I wasn't a boy scout).

Well, simple tasks like nailing the walls to the floor and putting on doors and windows were made a little more difficult due to the rusty nails and the weak hammers. But, that is to be expected when doing these types of things. I spent a good hour trying to make the window frames fit into the empty window space because they were 'off' by a few inches.

Below are a few more pictures from the trip.

This one is the old house and most of the new house side by side.



This one is of the other two members on my team putting on the support beams for the roof.


Here is the main street in this little neighborhood with two donkey pulling a cart/platform, which, I assumed was the public transportation system.

Zack Greinke references don't go over so well in other countries

To my sincere delight I’m back on the blog.

I returned to Peru from a two week North American vacation. Actually, I got back about two weeks ago and have been trying to catch up ever since my plane landed. I arrived in Lima around 11pm on Sunday night, was in my new apartment around midnight, and was off to the first day of work early Monday morning around 6:30am.

My trip home was an incredible time. I saw just about everyone I wanted to see - family, friends, and dog... one of those three didn't remember me. Can you guess which one? (that bastard). Just kidding, I love that dog. Actually, I think he's the best, to the point of extreme bias... when nothing is really his fault. I would compare it to when any parents extremely overestimate the athletic talents of their son or daughter. You're sitting in the stands at your son's soccer, football, or basketball game and the mom or dad behind you won't shut up about how his/her son Jimmy is being recruited by all the big schools. Of course they are forgetting that Jimmy is 12 and only cares about getting the game over with so he can go home and conquer the latest level in the game, Halo.
As for Cosmo - When he peed in my roommate's bed my response was, "Oh, he peed? Where? On your bed? Well, probably because he was scared and hadn't been outside in a really long time." Or when he completely ruined the carpet in my bedroom by tearing it halfway across the bedroom floor - "it was the worst storm of the spring, he was scared". The worst case was when he pooped on Ezra's pillow. I couldn't make excuses for that one. We were all so amazed at how a dog could consciously jump on the bed and desecrate in the one place in which you put your face. Absolutely an unforgettable moment for Cosmo.

Biases aside, seeing my family was special. Even when some of the nights I just sat on my parent's couch and watched The Daily Show and Conan, it still felt good.

What else happened... well... I visited my friend, Jerry, in New York and attended my cousin's baptism in North Kansas City - what did they both have in common... among other things, someone being turned upside down and having water thrown on their head. (that’s a lie, I think).

I got stuck in La Guardia airport because of a bomb threat. I ended up being one of the lucky ones on national TV while waiting in line.

My little brother, Kyle, turned 21. He managed to go from completely sober to "I just need to go home now" in less than 75 minutes. Top notch.

Cash for Clunkers. Who would’ve thought that putting an old truck half-way into a smelly dumpster right in front of your workplace would be smart advertising?

Health Care is either being reformed or killing old people, either way I don't exactly enjoy explaining to Peruvians why the Americans are so angry at the new proposal - "This isn't health reform, this is CONTROL!".


So, in "Peru blog related" news... here is the latest...

The first week back at work was very hectic. The school had an unplanned two extra weeks of vacation due to the swine flu. Not necessarily because there were more cases of the flu at Santa Maria, but it was mandated by the Peruvian school commission (or whatever they call themselves) to take off those days. Both the students and teachers were a little rusty last Monday.

However, one of the more entertaining events of the week, besides my incredibly fun and educational English class, was Santa Maria's version of America's Got Talent. Or, for those of you reading this from Europe, Britain's Got Talent. (in reality, it was more like American Idol, but for this blog’s sake, I will say it was like AGT). And guess who was one of the four judges? Yes, I'm trying not to take so much attention away from the contestants; after all, they are the real reason we're having this contest in the first place. But, really, when you think about it, no one can deny that I am the designated "celebrity judge" to bring in the crowds and berate these young, potentially talented singers until there is some sign of psychological damage. Of course, I’m completely joking and would never hurt these kids. Anyway, I could possibly be considered Santa Maria's version of David Hasselhoff, a title with which I will proudly associate myself. Plus, I'm too much of a pushover to be Piers and I'm obviously too smart to be Sharon Osbourne, so by powers of deduction, I'm David Hasselhoff.

In all seriousness, Wednesday after school the auditorium was packed for the auditions. (packed = 7 people) One by one the students would go on stage and sing. After each performance the judges and I would get on the microphone and give the contestants our critiques. The other 3 judges had some experience in music so their comments were actually legitimate and helpful. Mine, on the other hand, were just sarcastic jokes that none of the students really understood. For example, in response to one of the performances I said, “I was looking for more Saturday Night Live and less Mad TV.” Absolutely no one got that joke… and honestly, its not that funny, but a little recognition would be nice. Below is a list of some other good ones that I was going to say, but after the first one about SNL had miserably flopped I had decided I would just go with more productive comments:

Here are some that I had consciously thought of saying before SNL flop:
- I was expecting the explosiveness of the 2003 Chiefs and you gave me the utterly hopeless 2008 Chiefs. However, in the end, both ended up disappointing so its not that big of a deal.
- Your performance reminded me of that time I was on the airplane coming back from Guatemala. I hadn’t eaten in 15 hours and they were giving out free pretzels. I opened the bag to find only 4 mini pretzels and a few crumbs. You can imagine my disappointment.
- I was expecting Facebook and you gave me Friendster
- The other night about four or five cats got in a huge fight behind my apartment. It was so brutal and loud that they woke me up. I could tell the fight was ruthless; possibly deadly... they were scratching, clawing, biting, hissing, yelping, until it sounded like one of them took a deadly blow and couldn’t recover. For some reason, after hearing your performance I am reminded of that horrible night.
- I needed more Zack Greinke pre all-star break and less Zack Greinke post all-star break. (that one was pushing it).
You get the idea

The following Wednesday we had another round of contestants. Some good, some bad, but all very courageous to get up in front of everyone and sing. Through the faint sound of laughter and jeers from the crowd of immature students, the performing students stood steady and sang with a lot of passion. In the end the judges and I talked about how all of them had a lot of courage to get up there and sing some not-so-masculine songs. I made a point to talk to all of the contestants after their performance (off the record… or, away from the microphone) to congratulate them on their hard work. The elimination stage starts this week. I’ll try to keep you all updated.

I’m working on a couple other blog posts that should be written soon. There’s a lot going on – among them: my new living situation as well as my former landlord whom I would consider the Peruvian John Voight – not for his acting abilities, but for his creepy look and general deviousness. No offense to Jon Voight; his performance in Anaconda was underrated. Also, I have an interesting work visa story from the always-reliable immigration office here in Peru.

Talk to you soon.

-Brian

Who likes vacation?

Vacations, holidays, and the Ozarks. A wonderful advantage of being a teacher, besides the inherently high salaries and constant recognition, is all the vacation time. We get a few months off in summer, then of course all of the Christian holidays off, and then a week off every other month in between semesters. Its a great thing, really, vacation. However, some changes are in the works that are threatening my plans. The governing body that rules over the educational system in Peru has come down with its latest ruling - schools must change their official mid-year break to 'as soon as possible' to help prevent the spread of the Swine Flu.

Winter break here in Lima normally starts on July 25th, lasting two weeks. This break applies to every school in Lima. However, now that 2009 has been designated as The Year of the Swine (at least at schools in Peru), the updated winter break started July 15th and lasts until August 3rd.

Hmmm, that puts me into an interesting predicament. I made plans to travel to the U.S. while the school takes its two week break. Now that the break was moved up they (people from school) can't legitimately expect me to change my flight plans to accommodate the dates. Right? The news of the new mid-year break sparked a couple interesting rumors. The first rumor was that if you are a teacher and you can't be at school for that first week in August (because of prior vacation plans during that week) then you have to pay, from your own pocket, for a substitute. The second rumor going around was that after the school administration saw me play soccer last week, they were so astonished at my secret combination of pale skin and elite soccer skills that they made an exception for me and will let me honor my original travel plans.

Well, despite the incredibly legitimate rumors going around, I felt like I had a fair and genuine case for traveling ... and really, when it comes down to it... who is at fault here? Neither the school nor the teachers should be punished for this change of plans. So, I wrote a formal letter to the Principal detailing my travel situation, which also had some legal implications involved, and after reading my letter the school is now allowing me to honor my travel plans. At least I think they read my letter. They could have just thrown it in the trash and been playing with my nerves this whole time. Whatever the case may be, my travel plans are safe. Of course, I have another week to let weird and unusual events happen around me, so I'm not counting out the fact that something else could possibly come up. Weird things can happen.

Speaking of weird things, now that I've sufficiently explained my vacation plans, time to get back to watching Tom Watson online. Get it done.

-Brian

Birthday

For the third consecutive year I spent my birthday outside of the United States. My birthdays in 2007 and 2008 were very memorable considering the Guatemalan nuns can throw one hell of a birthday celebration. (in no way was that supposed to sound creepy and suggestive, but every time I reread it, it sounds bad - sorry). However, compared to the last two years of birthday celebrations which consisted of dancing nuns, spontaneous games of limbo, and elaborate paper clowns posted all over the walls, this year's birthday had its own assortment of odd happenings. This year, though, one significant difference was the location - Peru, which, provided for yet another new and exciting July 11th celebration.





Before I get into the details, though, I need to reveal some important facts about July 11.

- Top google searches for July 11, 2009: Alan Belcher's tattoo. What? Who? Exactly! Alan Belcher is an MMA fighter, who, apparently has a cool enough tattoo that it topped "certified auto recycling" and "Steve McNair funeral pictures" as the top google search of the day. And considering the popularity of the UFC and MMA fighting I'm not surprised that one of the fighter's tattoos had the top search query - no wonder most of the world hates Americans, our most popular sought-after piece of information is of a cage fighter's cool tattoo.

- The pact: I made a pact with one of my friends a few years ago, a friend that shares the same birthday as I, Drew, that we would spend our birthdays together for the rest of our lives... you know, like a dual-birthday-celebration-thing. Kill two birds with one stone. First of all, we all know that this pact is utterly ridiculous. Second of all, you should never make a pact after midnight in the musty confines of one of the finest establishment in all of Kansas City - Kelly's Westport Inn. Sounds like something that we all make fun of the morning after a long night out - "Hey Brian, remember last night when you agreed to ...(fill in the blank)... " By the way, considering the fact that I've been outside of the country the last three years in July, I have yet to share a birthday with Drew since that pact 3 years ago. I'm a horrible friend. Also, as a general rule of thumb, don't take the jello shots at Kelly's.

- 7-11: My fascination with my birthday having the same name as my favorite convenient store has been lost here in Peru. Peru doesn’t have 7-11 gas stations. Also, when they write the date they switch the day and the month. For example, in the US we write the date for July 11th, 1982 as: 7/11/1982. But, in Peru they would write it as: 11/7/1982. I can no longer conveniently remember my birthday by using a convenience store name.

Anyway, back to this year’s celebrations. The Friday before my birthday, I agreed to play soccer with some of my students after school. They've been asking me to play with them for a while, but for whatever reason Friday was the first day I was able to play all year. I've been giving them the impression that I have played as many soccer games as my little brother has read books. Which is to say - less than one. (And by the slight chance that Kyle is reading this, sorry brother, I love you). Before the game my teammates were kind enough to give me the basic rules of soccer... protect our goal, try to put the ball in the opponents goal, stay in certain positions on the field, etc. It was a fun little trick because they weren't expecting that I actually knew how to play. My teammates were pleasantly surprised by the fact that I scored the first goal within a few minutes of the start of the game. Teachers and students alike, walking out of school, were stopping by the game to watch the Gringo play against the South American boys. Really, I think they were amazed at how pale I am rather than watching me play soccer. The principal actually stopped by and was in complete shock (in a good way). After the game he said, "Brian, where did you learn how to play soccer?" I said, "Well, in Kansas City, where I'm from." After a few seconds of bewilderment he responded with, "But who did you play with? The Mexicans?" At that moment I was thinking, 'thank god for putting me into these awkward conversations on a daily basis... its giving me good practice for my future career of Awkward Silence Elevator Operator'. I explained to him that although the United States is not well known for soccer, there are still a select few that play. While I'm explaining this to him I'm screaming in my head "The U.S. JUST BEAT SPAIN... THE NUMBER 1 TEAM IN THE WORLD! THE LAST PERU WORLD CUP OR OLYMPIC APPEARANCE WAS BEFORE I WAS BORN!!!" ...and other various nerdy soccer references. He thought that it was great that I was playing with the students and was surprised that I would agree to do so. Points for Brian. For a random Friday afternoon, it was a great time. I hope to do it again soon.

After the soccer game was over I quickly got cleaned up to go to Lucia's parent's 25 Wedding Anniversary mass. Immediately following the mass was a celebratory meet and greet with the family. Shortly after the meet and greet Lucia's parents were on a flight to Boston to celebrate. And shortly after midnight on July 11, while Lucia’s parents were enjoying the luxuries that only coach airline seats can provide, I was enjoying some birthday sushi with Lucia’s brothers and sister. You might be wondering about the difference between birthday sushi and normal sushi? Well, really, nothing. Except that you eat birthday sushi on your birthday… and you eat normal sushi on days that don’t fall on your birthday. Keep up people.

Moving on... July 11, 2009. Jim Gaffigan, my favorite comedian, has a famous joke about eating breakfast in bed. He says, “That is a fantasy, because it gives you the option of going back to sleep when you're done.”. Why do I bring up this joke? Well, besides the fact that Jim Gaffigan is quite possibly the funniest man alive and I insert his jokes in daily conversations and claim them as my own, I tried to take his advice, kind of. I woke up on my birthday around 8:30am, had some toast and cereal, then went back to sleep for a couple more hours. It is a great feeling, especially for those who never really get a chance to sleep-in or enjoy the wonders that sleep and rest can bring into your life. (Just for fun, another Jim Gaffigan joke – “My wife is always like, ‘Why don’t you ever make the bed?’ Uh, for the same reason I don’t tie my shoes after I take them off: It doesn’t make sense!” You can check out the youtube videos here.).

After my second wake up of the day, Lucia and I went to Downtown Lima to the famous Hotel Bolivar. Apparently, that’s the place to go to taste the best of Peru’s traditional alcoholic beverage, the Pisco Sour. The hotel was incredible – a true “back in time” experience sitting in the middle of the traffic-littered downtown area. However, the pisco sours were nothing special. The drink is like an ultra-sweet, frozen lemonade that you get at the Royals games… except its melted and has alcohol in it. You can drink one and enjoy it, but don’t push it by drinking two or three – your stomach will hate you. I was happy though; I fulfilled my mission of “day drinking” at the Hotel. As you can tell, I’m easily amused.

From Hotel Bolivar I went to the tourist district of Miraflores. I enjoyed the rest of my birthday at a bar called The Jazz Zone. The night was a great night for cover bands. We first watched a Rolling Stones cover band then followed by a Beatles cover band. “Are we in the right place?” The Jazz Zone seems to be more like a cover band wonderland than a mild-mannered jazz hang-out. Whatever the circumstances were, I had a great time. Then, the icing on the cake happened after a trip to the bathroom (one too many Pisco Sours… hahahaha, joking). I was walking out of the bathroom and noticed a large photo on the wall. I recognized the English in the photo. In the photo were two guys holding guitars and standing under a street sign. The street sign read, “18th St” and the cross section read “Vine St.”. Whoa! Dude. Kansas City! I looked at the lower part of the photo and it read, “Kansas City, MO 1960”. How cool, I thought to myself. I was at a random bar in Lima, Peru and they have a picture of small district of my hometown. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture… of the picture…, but still, it was an interesting find. Again, I'm easily amused.

What a great birthday. The one thing missing was not the nuns, not the spontaneous games of Limbo, and no… not the clowns. I definitely missed my family - My mom and dad… my sister Teresa (and Jason), my brothers Kyle and Joe, the dogs… my extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends. And of course the people whom I consider my second family – basically I’m talking about all of my friends that know where we keep the beer in “Grandma’s house”. “How dare you put beer in the kitchen. It goes downstairs in the beer fridge.” (For those of you that don’t know… Grandma’s house is the house I lived in for 3 years in Kansas City). Being away from the world that I know in the states has given me the opportunity to experience new places, people and events that I never thought were out there. So, regardless of the fact that I’m on a different continent than that of my family and friends, I can still say that I had a great, clown-free birthday.

I love all of you - you know who you are.

-Brian

Spelling Bee

I chronicled Santa Maria's Spelling Bee on Facebook, but for all those who don't have access... here you go.

I was an orator and a judge for the Spelling Bee. And as I said on facebook - I've never claimed to be anything but a nerd, so if these pictures are too nerdy for you, you've been warned.

In the pictures I'm wearing the standard teacher uniform - a dark blue suit, white shirt, and any kind of tie. I have to wear this everyday, except when it gets warmer outside... so, the summer months starting around September through the end of April.

This first picture is of me with the winner of the Junior class Spelling Bee.


With the primary students - Junior High students.


Listening intently for the correct spelling and pronunciation.


The judges deliberating over the validity of the word, "banger" when referring to sausages - too insinuating if you ask me.



With first, second and third place of the Junior class. Also with the English Coordinator, Jelena, and the other American teacher, Josie.

Japi Tichers Dey Brayan

Today, Peruvians celebrate Día de Profesores, so naturally Santa Maria held a mass in the morning to help commemorate the occasion. The teachers received a half day last Friday and a free lunch in a very nice restaurant overlooking the ocean. (really, I don't think the students should benefit from teacher's day by getting a half day, but whatever, half days are just as fun for the teachers). We also received a small diploma from the senior class in appreciation for all of our work.

After Mass I walked into my classroom and found this phrase - Japi Tichers Dey Brayan - on my whiteboard.

If you pronounce the phrase using your best Spanish skills you will say, Happy Teacher's Day Brian. Obviously, it was a joke, possibly funnier to Spanish speaking people... but, if you laughed then great. More importantly, someone also wrote on my board, "I love Brian's class." and just like teenagers do, another student erased the 'c' and the 'l' in the word, class. Luckily, I could still see the remnants of the c and l on the board so the initial shock soon subsided when I looked more closely at the sentence. We all got a good laugh from it.

In other news:
- I'll be returning home in 3 weeks! 2 week vacation before I have to come back to South America.

- Happy Fourth of July!

- My voice cracked today in class, twice. The students erupted in laughter after they heard it, but, I played it cool, took a drink of water, and said, "Puberty is a bitch, what can I say?"

- Last Saturday I received several phone calls on my Nextel cell phone from teachers at Santa Maria. They were calling me to tell me Happy Birthday, but, there was one problem - it wasn't my birthday. Apparently, there was a misprint in the Teacher's birthday list!

- For the first time ever, I watched a movie only in Spanish... no subtitles - it was UP, by Pixar. Good movie. Then last night I went to see Ice Age 3... all in Spanish. I understood most of it, but there were some times that I had to turn to Lucia and say, "¿Qué?". It is something I am proud of ... that I can sit through a whole movie in another language and understand almost all of it. And yes, I'm sticking to the animated movies for now, anything more complicated would confuse me.

- Good luck to all my friends that are going to Guatemala this month. I really miss that place and am saddened that I couldn't go this year. I highly recommend going... what an incredible experience.

- More updates coming soon! I love all of you.

-Brian James

Road trip

Lucia and I took advantage of the long weekend and traveled to Huaraz, Peru. Huaraz is a city high in the Andean Mountains with many different touring activities. We took about $100, some crackers, and a couple bottles of Gatorade on an 8 hour bus ride to our destination - Hostal Alfredo in the heart of Huaraz.

The place was a lot better than the sign leads you to believe. It even had a mascot - a two year old yellow lab named Gringa. Gringa is in a state of crisis right now... she just gave birth to three really cute puppies, and she got run-over by a car a few days ago. Not exactly the kind of thing that should happen to a new mother. She has a broken leg and a huge bowl over her head to prevent her from scratching the stitches on her skull. To her credit, she still wags her tail when she sees potential Hostal Alfredo visitors. Oh, another added benefit... she walks the halls at night and you can hear her banging into things with that huge plastic bowl around her neck.

Anyway, while in Huaraz we took a tour to see a few things. We first visited the town of Yungay, which, in 1970 was completely wiped out by a mudslide. 50,000 people were killed in the disaster. They have a few monuments in memory of the victims.



From Yungay we took an hour bus ride up the Huascaran mountain. Our destination - Lake Llanganuco. The lake is at 12,600 feet above sea level, and the peak is about 22,000 feet. The following pictures are of Lucia and I near the lake.





I really can't describe the views of the mountain range and the lake. They were incredible (okay, I guess I can describe them). After taking in the sheer awesomeness of the views around the lake we headed to another town near the mountain, named Caraz. There we had a late lunch, consisting of chicken noodle soup and Cuy. Cuy is a traditional Peruvian dish that many Peruvians eat in the Andean Mountains. Many people have cuy farms and even small cuy cages to keep them fresh (alive until dinner time). In English, Cuy is translated to Guinea Pig. Little, furry, innocent, guinea pigs. It was one of those things that I just had to try once. And I'm happy to say that will be the first and last time I try guinea pig. Especially considering a plate of guinea pig consists of the whole animal... with a few hairs that didn't get singed off during the cooking process. The picture below is looking into the mouth of the beast. Or at least half of the head. I ordered the 1/4 Picante Cuy, served on top of cut potatos. And for all you hamster and guinea pig lovers out there... turn away... now!



Here I am sampling the lovely dish... I won't go into the details of how it tasted. Just imagine eating your pet hamster - those were the feelings I had while eating this meal.


Overall, the views, the lake, the mountain, the rodents, the hostal... it was a great experience and highly recommended for any travelers out there. If you get a chance to go, please give me an update on Gringa the dog. Hopefully her leg heals nicely and she gets that damn plastic bowl off of her head.

- Back to work -

-Brian

Oranges, Flintstones vitamins, and anti-bacterial hand sanitizer... do it.

Well, that's it... officially, Colegio Santa Maria has the swine flu. We have one student, a freshman, that acquired Gripe Porcina (pronounced Greepay Porseena). I hear that the boy is doing okay and hopefully his condition continues to be stable.

Classes were canceled on Friday, then today they decided to cancel classes until next Tuesday. Teachers had to go into school for a few hours this morning and in fact, the mood around school was really really good. No surprise, but teachers are almost as happy as the students when school is canceled; at least this teacher is!

I'm thinking about going to Ecuador, or Colombia... or maybe Argentina - the bus ride won't be too long, right?

I'll be going to Kansas City on July 25th. I have a two week break starting the 24th of July, so I'll be in KC for a couple weeks eating BBQ, mooching off my parents*, and catching up with my favorite TV shows - 30 Rock, The Office, How I Met Your Mother, and Two and a Half Men. You'll notice that eating, watching TV and mooching is more important than seeing my friends and family... if you can't deal with that then I'm sorry. I'm kidding of course! Or am I?

*Side note: I tested my ability to mooch off my parents all the way from Lima, Peru... and just ask my mom, its possible.

*Second side note: the picture in this post has nothing to do with the swine flu. A few months ago I was burnt and I got a few blisters on my arm. Pretty gross, so I thought it was appropriate for this post.

"What a life you lead, Brian."
-Sheila Meagher

My First Publication... kind of

Last week was English week at Santa Maria. We had many different events and activities - spelling bee, American and British themed food (whatever that means), and some interesting in-class activities. An interesting part about English Week at Santa Maria was that everything was in English. The ceremonies, masses, and even the daily bulletin was in English. Four teachers from the English Department and one student were chosen to write a short article/editorial to be published in the bulletin each day of the week - one per day. Of course, I was forcefully volunteered to write something for the final bulletin going out to all the students and teachers on Friday.

Now, the bulletin is just like morning announcements. It informs the students what is happening that day or week, and has an editorial section to express some kind of lesson for the students. All five of us writing for the bulletin had the same theme for our articles (it was planned that way) - Why Santa Maria? I wasn't quite sure what that really meant, but after I read Monday's article, then again I read Tuesday's article I was starting to get the idea. What does Santa Maria mean to me... why am I here? Honestly, they were the only ones that would hire me! No, not true... I got a few other job offers (if we're counting 'laying around my girlfriend's house all day' a job).

Thankfully, I got some good advice from a very wise, grey-haired man we'll call Mike (dad, that's you). So, instead of describing it to you... I'll just let you read it. Warning - this isn't funny or entertaining. It is from the point of view of a teacher, knowing that my 12-17 year old students will be reading it. It was published in the Friday bulletin here at school and I think a few people might have read it. (if you can't see the small picture below, I copied the text under it). Second warning - it's different from the normal things I publish here on the blog.

Why SM?

In the early 1800’s, Father Joseph Chaminade and the Society of Mary were building their ministry through the formation of schools in France and Europe. They were met with many political and educational challenges, but with the inspiration of the Virgin Mary they were able to develop the traditions, beliefs, and strategies exhibited today in all Marianist schools throughout the world.

During these first few decades of existence, the Marianist schools were already displaying the charisma and values that Chaminade so deeply believed. On February 7, 1834, Chaminade wrote a letter to Father Jean Joseph Cheveaux S.M., reminding him that schools were “to introduce and to spread everywhere the spirit of faith and religion, and thereby to multiply Christians.” He continued by saying that this can be done by remembering 3 points: “(1) real missionaries never rely solely on themselves but place their confidence in the Blessed Virgin Mary, (2) the salvation of the souls of our students should be the purpose we propose to ourselves in our actions and prayers, and (3) a teacher cannot succeed with a student whose esteem and friendship he has not gained.” (Brother John R. Habjan, S.M. – Society of Mary Marianists).

More clearly, Chaminade’s three points were:
(1) Marianists say that learning does not take place in a vacuum. Knowledge and understanding matures through the interaction that takes place among students and between teachers and students. (2) As Marianist educators, we should live the life in which we preach to our students. And (3) developing a trusting relationship among teachers and students is a crucial part of the educational process. We’re young men and women with a desire to not only develop our minds, but our hearts and spirits as well.

175 years after this letter was written I walked into the front doors of Santa Maria in Lima, Peru for the first time. In the first 3 months here I can see that SM is a school that thrives using the same philosophy and charisma that Chaminade worked so hard to create. If you go to our website you will read Santa Maria’s Mission – Summarized, it says: Educate for the formation of faith; educate in family spirit; provide an integral, quality education; educate for service, justice, and peace; and finally, educate for adaptation and change. These five strategic objectives are at the heart of why we’re here; more specifically, why I’m here.

My own educational experience was not much different than a student from Santa Maria. The high school I attended, Rockhurst, is a Catholic, Jesuit, and all-male school with a mission to educate young men who, at graduation, will possess the following characteristics: Open to Growth, Intellectually Competent, Religious, Loving, and Committed to Doing Justice. Inspired by the founding Jesuit missionary, St. Ignatius of Loyola, Rockhurst’s mission is to develop promising young students into well-rounded young men. “Men for Others”.

Today I teach my students with both Marianist and Jesuit philosophies in mind. Inside my classroom are some of the best young men in Peru. After they graduate they will go on to do great things and be great men. Luckily, I get to teach them after much refinement and years of quality education with the help of some of the best teachers (and people) I’ve encountered. My students can see how much I enjoy my Marianist teaching experience so far. Whether I’m talking about slang in my English club, cheering for the soccer team, singing in the choir at the Confirmation ceremony, or giving out TOEFL practice tests in class (sorry guys, it has to be done) I am happily contributing to Chaminade’s mission, and Santa Maria’s desire to fulfill that mission.

Nearly 200 years after the first Marianist school opened, Santa Maria continues to develop students with the love of the Blessed Mary, the charisma of Chaminade, and the unique skill of each and every teacher. For me, working in a place with such significant values, traditions, and beliefs is a privilege. However, as the manual of Marianist teaching states, “It is the student body that determines the character of an establishment.” therefore, above all, no matter how much of a privilege I think this is, the students are the real spirit of this school. I can only hope they realize this and take full advantage of such a privileged opportunity.

Professor Brian Meagher

Representing KC all the way in Lima, Peru

I noticed this guy while I was walking to work a few days ago, and I had to quickly get my camera out and discretely take a picture of him. Immediately after this picture was taken I gave him a high five and asked what he thought about Matt Cassel's chances as the starting quarterback this upcoming season.

That's a lie. I didn't ask that. I giggled like a little girl and kept on walking - you know, the usual.

The picture was taken a couple blocks from my apartment. GO CHIEFS!

-Brian

Yep, that's me... singing in the choir

I won't say that I absolutely love singing, but I will say that I enjoy singing from time to time. I love music. It is one of the few things in life that can instantly influence my mood no matter what situation, and I love that. Usually, I love to listen to music while I run - slow songs, techno, rock, classic rock, rap, even country sometimes... every type of music helps me run, especially on those long runs when some miles feel smooth and other miles feel like running against the wind. (If you're interested, here is a pretty good playlist for running/working out found on Runner's World - here ). I also have to metion that I had a small stint as a lead singer in high school. Our number one hit was Funky Potato. Basically I just said the words funky potato over and over again... that was it. Memorable for sure.

Anyway, so a couple weeks ago I was asked if I wanted to join the school choir, which consists of about 6 or 7 students and 12 teachers. Immediately, I came up with several reasons why it wouldn't be a good idea - the lyrics are in Spanish, I'm not a good singer, I don't have time, and I'm not a good singer... again. But a small part of me was thinking, "What the hell? Who cares if you embarrass yourself. You're the gringo, you're automatically exempt from any embarrassing situations because you're foreign... you don't know any better. Right?"

Finally, after much thought and contemplation (13.5 seconds worth) I said yes and went to my first practice. It went well. I followed along in the song-book and sang the best I could. After three practices I was ready for the big stage - The Confirmation Ceremony. Friday night, in the gymnasium, all of the seniors getting confirmed, their sponsors, and of course families and friends.

Unfortunately, it was caught on video. Now the videos are on you tube. I'll set up the scene before you click on the links below - the choir is placed in the corner of the gym, and the teachers are in the first 3 rows with the students behind them. As for myself, I'm as far away from the camera as possible... thank God. You can barely see the top of my head. If you have trouble finding my fat head in the video, I am standing almost directly in line with the piece of paper taped to the wall. If you find the white paper on the wall, just look directly below that. Happy viewing!

Iglesia Peregrina http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuHp-d6DawQ

Gloria http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKjaj_bjR0M

Here is a little extra video just for this blog post....

Flag day celebration in the gym: Flag Day

You can also find other various videos under the same user.

Choir Boy,

-Brian

Rivalry Time

If you know me just a little then you know that I’m a bit of a soccer nerd. I did play a little in high school, and have continued to play recreationally ever since. My former roommates can attest to how many random soccer games I’ve watched on FoxSportsNet over the years. I’m also a big fan of the KC Wizards and the US Soccer team; however, now that I’m in Peru I’ve switched my focus to Santa Maria’s team.

A majority of the players are in my classes so I enjoy going to games to show my support. Every Monday and Thursday after school you can find me at the soccer field cheering on Edmundo, Alvaro, Gonzalo, Gustavo, Renzo, and the rest of the students. (Yes, you’ll find that many of the names end in “o”). The semifinal of the ADECORE Cup was at Santa Maria last month and I couldn’t miss it. We were playing our oldest and most hated rival, Imaculada. I can’t really describe the amount of contempt the two schools have for each other simply because I’m still the ‘newby’ teacher, but based on what I saw that afternoon during the game I can tell there’s some bad blood between the two.

Some of my students actually came into my classroom during recess and lunch on the day of the game to request my presence that afternoon. “Okay! I’ll be there.”

Promptly after the last bell of the day, beating their drums and singing their songs, the students went straight from their classrooms to the soccer field. By the time I got to the game it was already a few minutes in and 4 policemen and about 8 Santa Maria teachers were separating the two team’s fans. No punches were thrown or people kicked out, just some friendly chest thumping and loud yelling.

The game was a good one and the level of play was impressive. I’ll spare you the dorky soccer details and just say that we scored the winning goal with less than two minutes remaining in the game. 1 – 0 in favor of Santa Maria. The students celebrated the goal by rushing the field and acting completely inappropriate and immature. Expected. However, I thoroughly enjoyed chasing them, grabbing them by the back of the neck, and telling them how stupid they were (in Spanish… admittedly, it sounded kind of funny).

When the final whistle blew, our students did the most obvious next step – completely ignored our own players, turned to the opposing fans, and started to yell obscenities and cheers to rub it in their face… as if somehow they had something to do with the victory. The teachers did quite well to keep the two schools separated so that no fights broke out.

The following day at school our students were proud of their victory and before each class I took a few minutes to talk about the game, the fans, and the rivalry. One student put it very bluntly. He said, “Honestly, Brian, we just hate them so much.” As other students are nodding in agreement, he went on to say, “We don’t even know why, but just talking about them now is making me hate them even more.” And just to get a little laugh out of them I said, “You know what Nicolas? After yesterday, I hate them too.”

Promoting uninhibited, unwarranted hatred one young Peruvian at a time –

- Profesor Brayan

Fear of Clowns

Here's a short little story about an encounter I had today...

I've heard a few times in my life that the one thing that people fear most in this world is public speaking. Some people would rather face death than to speak in front of a crowd. It is intimidating, for sure, but for me public speaking is not that big of a deal. However, I have my own fears - most infamous is my fear of clowns. I don't know when it started because I don't recall ever encountering clowns at a young age. But when I went into high school then on to college the fear revealed itself to those around me. My roommates in college played a couple horrible pranks on me... involving full clown outfits and a lot of chasing. I get chills just thinking about it.

Well, I think I'm getting over my fear. This week I don't have to work because of a break between semesters so I've been taking some Spanish classes and traveling around Lima a bit. This morning I got on a combi to go to my Spanish classes. Everything was as normal as it could be - a few people sleeping, the cobrador (the guy who recruits people to get on the buses) yelling at everyone "Pesaje. Pesaje por favor. Pesaje en la mano!!!!", and me trying to hold on for dear life as we weave in and out of traffic. I usually try not to make eye contact with anyone, but about 5 minutes after I got on I heard a very loud voice enter the bus. From what I could hear there was a man telling everyone to get ready for the show. After I heard that I looked up to see what was happening, and I see a startling sight - a clown. Not just any clown... a Peruvian, dirt-poor clown just tryin' to make a living entertaining Lima's bus travelers one combi at a time. I immediately started sweating and breathing heavier. I stayed calm though, I said to myself, "this is no time to panic because where can I go?... I'm stuck in this crowded bus."

So I listened and watched the so called "entertainment". The only thing he did was tell a story about his life and how he became to be a clown. I didn't get all the facts simply because I was constantly thinking of ways to kill him (or myself) if he came near me. However, when he finished his speech he started walking around to take donations. As he came closer to me alot of things started going through my head - my family, my friends, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Grandma's house. I came face to face with the monster, looked him in the eye as he said to me, "Por favor joven." simply means, Please young man. He stuck out his hand and I reached into my pocket for anything I could find. I had a few cents in there that I gave him. I put it in his hand and he reached up to my chest, I stopped breathing, and he put something in my shirt pocket. He said thank you and kept walking. I reached into my pocket to see what he put there - a toffee candy. Delicious.

My first face to face encounter with a real clown was kind of anti-climactic. There was no blood shed, no balloon animals in inappropriate places, and no spine-tingling laughs. He smelled a little, but that's because he is a poor Peruvian guy just trying to make a living. He didn't try to attack me, actually, he gave me a delicious toffee candy - it reminded me of when I was a young kid at my grandparent's house. My grandpa always had toffee candies in the basement that I couldn't stop eating.

Anyway, we finally arrived at my stop, Avenida Benavides. The clown thanked the crowd and got off the bus. I followed him and tried to act like I was afraid of him... He could probably smell my fear. In my haste I crossed the street quickly and then heard a voice yell, "Cuidado Joven!", I looked up and saw a taxi driving about one foot in front of me. I quickly jumped out of the way to miss the passing taxi. I turned around to see who warned me of the near-death accident... the clown was simply looking at me with a bright, toothless smile giving me a thumbs-up. I gave him a thumbs-up in return as well as a sincere Gracias.

I walked away just laughing at myself. Do your thing, clown, do your thing. The end.


I couldn't get a direct picture of the clown for fear of retaliation, but here are some pix of the guy who saved my life.... it is difficult to see him, but he is the one with the yellow hair and the red visor.


-BJM

Feliz Día Mamá

This post is dedicated to all the moms out there. If you are reading this, and you are a mother, I must express my sincere appreciation for you. No matter how old your children are - 6, 26, or 56 years old - your mother continues to act as an unconsciously selfless part of the family. Especially, my mom. thanks mom, I love you.

Here are some good and funny quotes that I found online about mother´s... found on QuoteGarden...


Insanity is hereditary; you get it from your children. ~Sam Levenson

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. ~Tenneva Jordan

Mothers are fonder than fathers of their children because they are more certain they are their own. ~Aristotle

Sing out loud in the car even, or especially, if it embarrasses your children. ~Marilyn Penland



Happy Mother´s Day mom... here are just a few pics of your proud children...

Kyle - as this picture was taken, he was imagining his life as a father and passed out. No babies were hurt in this picture.

Teresa - even after this picture was taken, Jason still proposed to her. What´s worse - to be a crazy lady or be the guy married to the crazy lady?

Me - I feel that a comment will only diminish the quality of this picture... I think it is best if we just move on without commenting.

Joe - I couldn´t find any recent incriminating pictures of Joe, so I went back to the good old days when tube socks, short shorts, and Royals games were all the rage.

Again, Happy Mother´s Day to all the proud moms out there. We´re all sincerely grateful for everything you do.

- Brian

First Semester Review and Credits

One of my original posts on this blog was about my first few weeks as a teacher. Actually, I hadn’t even taught one class yet and people were questioning whether or not I could handle it. I heard the horror stories of past American English teachers with no Spanish language experience. Yes, they were horror stories. I was assigned to teach the seniors, or as one of my friends here in Lima put it, “Wow, they’re throwing you into the wolves on the first day. Good luck.” Ironically, that is exactly what I have had an abundance of here – no, not wolves… luck.

With only one week remaining before the end of the first semester I have two months of teaching under my belt and some interesting opinions.

First, I enjoy teaching. I guess if I can be more specific… I enjoy teaching English, as a foreign language, to seniors, and preferably to a single gender classroom. Maybe because I’ve been put in a great situation with “the wolves” (you know the story/book/movie about the boy raised by wolves), but whatever it is, I enjoy it. In reality, the wolves are just normal 17-year old students with the same issues that everyone else their age experiences. In my favor is the fact that I’m a young teacher that can identify with them… I also teach a class that is relevant to most of them. Sometimes they get so lost trying to understand why they need to learn the square root of 841, or why certain liquids boil at different temperatures, that they can’t help but question, misbehave, or lose touch with their classes and school. The advantage of teaching English, especially to the advanced students, is that the students realize the importance of learning a foreign language. Also, I try to tell them about my own experiences and stories as a young man – from choosing the right university to imagining a life outside of Lima sometime in the near future. However, the most common questions are about college, girls, and inevitably - college girls.

On top of all that, I enjoy what I teach. I have a great boss who gives me the freedom to teach what and how I would like. I get to choose articles, stories, activities, and videos that interest the students as well as myself. The students can see that I’m genuinely interested and believe in what I present to them; the least they can do is appreciate the effort. (Most of the time). Considering the circumstances - foreign language, foreign country, and foreign experiences - I consider myself very lucky to have found a job that interests me.

Second, I find it appealing to compare this job with my previous job. I don’t know how often in a person’s life one can change jobs, which, on the surface, seem so completely different from each other. I don’t have an example right off the top of my head, but it happens more often than you think.

Before I was at Santa Maria I was in Kansas City working for YRC Worldwide as a Strategy Analyst. The role of Strategy Analyst is a bit more complicated to explain than the role of a teacher, but for the sake of everyone’s sanity, lets just say that a Strategy Analyst analyzes strategies! Whew! Okay, moving on. Each day I drove from the Brookside area to Overland Park, KS. I worked on the 7th floor in the Pricing and Yield Management department overlooking I-435 highway. My cubicle walls could best be described as death-colored and on most days my eyes were sore from staring at a computer screen all day. I enjoyed some parts of my job, most notably working with some great people. Additionally, YRC paid for my graduate education and had very good benefits. Now that I’m in Lima, I walk to and from work – normally a 5-minute walk. I work in a small classroom with access to the outdoors. I am on the computer for only an hour per day and for the most part am interacting with students for the other 6 hours. I receive none of the normal benefits that American companies provide to their employees. As far as my salary, I get paid just enough to pay my rent and food every month.

If I think optimistically, working at YRC prepared me very well to work at Santa Maria.

The political power of networking and socializing is just as important at SM as it is at YRC.

I also learned at YRC that any email, note, report, or presentation should be your best work – meaning, if I send a random email to a colleague there is a chance it might work its way to someone of greater influence, so it needs to be done with that possibility in mind. At Santa Maria my students are more likely to pay attention to me if my presentation, worksheet, or lecture looks professional or even somewhat cool. If they see something technologically impressive (even if it is my own grading system I started on excel using simple formulas… insert nerd voice here) then my credibility automatically goes up. I’m not saying that is justifiable… I’m just saying that I’m appealing to my audience.

Another significant similarity - taking initiative is important in any job, so if there is a situation in which I can stand out from the crowd then I should take advantage of it. I’ve already started my own English club… it started slow – 1 student, yeah! But we’ve got some good things going on… our membership is doubling each week! (BTW, we’re in week 3). Besides the social work the students are required to perform, Santa Maria is seriously lacking extra-curricular activities. Hopefully I can sustain the English club long enough that the students can start running the meetings and organizing the events. Like I said, I guess optimistically speaking, I was lucky enough to work at YRC before coming to Santa Maria.

I don’t think my situation is any different than any of your situations. I just happen to be in a different country doing all these things. I still have to worry about all the normal life problems; I just worry about them in Spanish now. And if I think about my situation, I’m no more or less lucky than any of you. I guess thinking optimistically has given me many reasons to appreciate being thrown to the wolves on my first day. I liked the fact that others were questioning me even before I started this job – you can call it luck; you can call it circumstances; you can call it divine power (thanks for praying for me mom!); or maybe a combination of all three. Whatever “it” is, I’m enjoying my time here in Lima at Santa Maria.


I have to give credit for some of the lessons, readings, activities we've done this semester....

Thanks to my buddy Chad Sogas, or Bobby G as he is commonly referred, for the inspiration:
I showed my class this picture (above) without any explanation as to who this person was or what he was doing. They needed to write a short story describing the life of this man. The results were incredibly entertaining... here are a few:

- Mr. Mustache: He has an obsession with smelly socks and bendable bars.
- Jose: A beer-loving gambling addict.
- Carlos: The Brazilian Street Fighter
- James: The retired boxer trying to regain his fame by performing obscure feats of strength.
- Sockman: Nemesis of Spiderman... honeymooning as a co-author of comic books staring Gene Simmons and Barack Obama. He also published an autobiography, "Under the Sock", an instant best seller.
- Peter Sanchez: President of a multi-national hand band enterprise.
- Ronnie Vinnucci: Graduate of the class of '93 at Richmond High. Repeated both Junior and Senior years, inspired by his boss at the laundry-mat, Mr Lee, Ronnie became a world renowned wrestler.
- Timothy Davies: A recently fired business-man who walks in on his wife cheating on him, starts smoking weed, starts jogging regularly, starts growing mustaches, and starts beating up dudes down at the boondocks.
- Joe Stevenson: A homeboy who liked to exercise all day and all night (very similar to Bobby G)

If you would like to know the real identity of this man, check it out for yourself - KYDJ

.... more credits coming soon...

Profesor,

Brayan

Laundry Day

Do you remember when you were in college (or first lived on your own) and the first time you tried to do laundry? Most likely, you waited until you had no clean underwear left and were forced to visit either the local laundrymat or tackle the chore yourself. Of course, I´m speaking for men simply because I guess women have an endless suppl y of undies. Either way, you had a lot of dirty clothes. You performed your best Santa Claus impression and slung the bag of smelly clothes over your shoulder and headed towards the nearest washing machine. Now imagine yourself in a hot, crowded city walking down the street with that bag. Your back is hunched over to help balance all that weight and sweat is dripping down your face. You´re itching to wipe the sweat off but you´re afraid that if you let go of the bag then all of your momemtum will be lost.

At first I didn´t want to admit to myself that this was happening to me. I´m a 26 year old adult... (at least I think so), I should n´t be putting myself in these types of situations anymore. I knew that someday I would have to deal with the dreaded laundry, but I still put it off until later. I don´t know why, it just happened.

I live in a pretty busy part of Lima called, Chacarilla, which, if you want to compare to something you know... maybe Brookside or Prairie Village in the Kansas City area. (comparable in size). I took my bag and scoped out the closest laundrymat I could find. I walked into the place and immediately they said to me, ¨We can´t wash your clothes... you have too many.¨ They charged per item, and I needed a place that would charge by the kilo. Even though the workers laughed at my situation, as well as my accent, they did give me directions to the nearest place I could take my clothes. So I picked up my bag and walked out to head to the second destination. I finally arrived, gave them my clothes, and asked for the nearest back specialist.

I am on my way to pick up the clothes now. I should inquire about a delivery service... just like I did in college.

-BJM

Return to Lima

…a continuation of my previous post...

The bus ride back from the south of Peru to Lima was pretty good. There was another Bingo game as well as many of the same passengers that joined us on the trip to Chile. However, you’ll never guess what movies we watched on the return trip… if you’re thinking of the movie, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, then you’re just cynical and only want bad things to happen to me on this trip. But if you’re thinking that another round of Enemy of the State and The Punisher were in order, then you’re right. I won’t waste too much time talking about the movies, however, if you haven’t checked them out yet I would recommend a date night with The Punisher. Then, if you have time, Snakes on a Plane – another under appreciated masterpiece.

As I mentioned before, the bus ride was comfortable. I had plenty of space for myself and they served dinner and breakfast the following day. Despite these luxuries, it was still a bus. Lucia and I had the good fortune to sit in front of a woman who didn’t quite do so well. During the night she managed to throw up for about 3 hours, non-stop. After the second hour I really stopped feeling disgusted and just wondered if her life was in danger after losing that much fluid. The poor woman kept going in and out of the bathroom, which, I’m sure felt more like a carnival ride rather than a smooth bus trip.

After at least 30 minutes of downtime to let the bathroom air out a bit, I felt it was safe enough to enter, with caution of course. The bathroom door swings out, so to open it you must pull. Also, there was an “occupied” light that shines bright red if someone was in the bathroom and has locked the door. All signs were clear for me to enter, so I opened the door and, naturally, there was a woman using the bathroom. Shit!

I should have just kept watching The Punisher. Embarrassing is an understatement. Instead of trying to find my seat, I was trying to find the exit to the bus. I can’t imagine what the woman was feeling. Of course after she exited the bathroom I made no eye contact and purposely stayed away from her the rest of the trip. I felt it was the best thing for the both of us. Also, I stayed away from the bathroom for the rest of the trip.

All in all the trip was worth it. I did what I needed to do (legally speaking) to remain in good standing with the immigration office and we had some fun. If you've got some time, and little money, the bus services are definitely worth it.

-BJM

Chile!!!!!

This weekend Lucia and I traveled to Chile. I had a couple days off from work in honor of Holy Week, so I thought I would take advantage of it to do a little traveling. Plus, I needed to travel outside the country to obtain my work visa anyway so I used the two days off to fulfill this function.

I chose Chile based on convenience and price. It was the fastest and cheapest option of any foreign excursion, and based on my current salary those two factors are very important. Cruz Del Sur, a great bus service here in Peru, took Lucia and I to the Southern-most city in Peru, Tacna. I bought a round-trip ticket for about $75, which, included breakfast, dinner, and great service for a 20-hour bus ride. And my favorite part of the bus ride – the movies – we watched four movies on the way to Tacna. Enemy of the State, Shooter, Underclassman, and The Punisher. What a line-up of movies – Will Smith, Mark Walberg, Nick Cannon, and some dude that played the Punisher – unforgettable. They were so unforgettable that we actually watched The Punisher twice. I know what you’re thinking – LUCKY. Exactly. By the way, they were dubbed in Spanish... even better!

Wait, there’s another perk when riding this bus – Bingo! If you were lucky enough to win the bus bingo game then you would receive your ride free of charge. However, Lucia and I weren’t paying attention while the attendant was reading the instructions, so we inadvertently shouted “BINGO” when I thought I had won. But, if we had listened at the beginning we would have known that you don’t win unless your whole card has been called – yes, about 30 minutes of B25, I38, N44, G73, O22 before someone could shout a legitimate ‘Bingo’.


We arrived to Tacna not knowing exactly how we were to cross the border into Chile. I met two surfers from New Zealand who were also in the same predicament. They said they were going to take the train, but it was going to be a slow ride, probably another 3 hours. I told them maybe, but maybe not. Surprisingly, we didn’t have to walk very far before 12 guys approached us saying “Arica, Arica, Arica, Aricaaaaaaaa”. Okay, I guess they can take us to Arica, Chile. We talked to one of the guys for a while and he convinced us that it was a safe ride to Arica… he would even take us to our hotel. We made the deal, paid the money, signed a form and we were off to Arica in a very appropriate ride - an early 90’s, grey Ford Taurus. I started to have flashbacks of sophomore year in High School driving around South Kansas City in Jerry Miller’s Taurus – sweet. I think the only difference between then and now was the music… Smashing Pumpkins and Dave Mathews versus Peruvian Reggae Tone and Salsa… hmmm.


We crossed the border quite smoothly; I think the baggage check guys might have been taking their mid-morning nap because they barely even noticed us as we walked through the metal detectors with all of our bags. We arrived to Arica, formerly part of Peru, but taken by Chile a little over 100 years ago, and we noticed that nothing is open. It was similar to a ghost town. It looked like the only thing that was open was a small restaurant near the beach and McDonalds. Since I feel nauseous every time I eat McDonalds (no offense to 99% of my friends) we chose the Chilean restaurant. We took advantage of the calm atmosphere and laid around the beach for a while, walked a lot, and took pictures of the war monuments placed all over the small city.

The following day we woke up early knowing that we had to go back to Peru in the late afternoon. We decided that the huge cliff that we noticed the previous day needed to be hiked. After a jumping a few fences and climbing through some make-shift gates we found the route to the top. It took a while, but we managed to hike up the side of the big hill/small mountain until we reached the peak. Supposedly, as legend has it, a Peruvian soldier, riding his horse, was chased by Chilean soldiers up this same hill carrying the Peruvian flag. He planted the flag on top of the hill/mountain before he was forced to jump off the cliff, along with his horse, committing suicide. Today, in that same place stands a Chilean flag that looks over all of Arica… along with a huge statue of Jesus. Under the statue is a plaque that reads – “Por la razon o la fuerza”. (for the reason or the force). Sounds like something Jesus would say for sure.

You can also find a small museum at the top of this cliff, who knew? You can check out the pictures to see some of the museum, but there was one interesting piece that I would like to share. The museum displayed a copy of the Chilean war campaign to occupy Lima.
The last part, under strategies and objectives it reads – “Ocupar Capital para imponer la paz”. Occupy the capital, Lima, to push (or impose) the peace. I was not proud when I immediately associated this logic to the American military philosophy in the previous years.

Anyway, unfortunately I have to cut this story short (it’s too long anyway)… TO BE CONTINUED MAÑANA. I love you…….

pictures - http://picasaweb.google.com/bjmyp6

-bjm

When are we turning around?

5am. Saturday Morning. 4 Peruvians. 1 American. 30 Kilometers. Done. Well, not so much.

In January I visited Larcamar, a small tourist district of Lima, which sits next to the ocean. I took this picture from the top of one of the cliffs near the shore looking towards a small peninsula about 15 kilometers away. (about 9 miles). At the time I thought to myself, “Self, wow, what a view.” I was of course talking about the ocean-front view, not of the dying, pink flowers in the foreground.

I had the opportunity, once again, to take in this view last Saturday morning. However, this time I wasn’t a tourist trying to catch the sunset, I was part of a Peru Running Club training for the marathon here in Lima next month. When I say – “once again take in the view”, I really mean that if the sun had actually risen at this point in the day it would have been a good view. It was so early in the morning that I actually ran passed a restaurant of people still enjoying their Friday night… I don’t know which group was crazier – I’ll go with the runners club.

So, to give you a little history first, earlier last week I was speaking with a fellow teacher who had heard that I enjoy running from time to time. He said that I should join him this Saturday for a long run around Miraflores here in Lima. I said, “Oh, great, I would love that.” This is where it gets a little fishy. He told me that the run was 20 kilometers, which, for me is a long run. I would barely be able to make 20 kilometers (11 or 12 miles). However, I always know that when I’m with a new group, trying to show off a little, that my adrenaline is pumping and that would probably help me finish the 20K. I agreed and we arranged the time and place to meet his running group. First mistake.

5:30am on Saturday morning arrives with some great weather. I was getting excited and nervous. I met my friend, Marco, at the starting point and we began around 6am. 5 runners in total… a small group, I thought. We started at an annoyingly slow pace – so slow that I felt like walking. But, our route was along the coast so the ocean breeze felt great, and I figured that once the sun came up it would be a beautiful view. We continued the fast walking for about 20 minutes, then, without words everyone increased the pace to a slow jog. At this point I’m thinking, come on people, let’s start running. Well, at kilometer 5 we took a quick bathroom break at a gas station then increased the pace to a steady jog – more of my style.

Two of the group members are very experienced marathon runners. They begin to run a little faster, which is more of my pace – … if we were running a 5K. I am trying to show off so I agree to join the faster group. The fast group is a good one, I’m happy to be in the fast group, we’re cool. Second mistake.

We kept the pace for about 30 minutes, then for 45 minutes. Okay, I’m starting to get a little fatigued at this point. We’ve been running, what feels to me to be a 7-minute per mile pace, for about 45 minutes… all in the same direction along the coast. I finally asked the guy in the group, when are we turning around? He points to a spot along the beach, which I’m familiar with… the peninsula (remember – “self, wow, what a view”). I cough a few times and they laugh at me and ask me, “How are you feeling?” “Are you going to make it?”. But, I’ve translated this for you, they asked me in Spanish, and my oxygen-deprived brain couldn’t comprehend Spanish at that point so I asked them to repeat, por favor.

After I come to terms with how far we’re running I told them that I want to slow down. But there’s a problem, I don’t know the route. Okay, I told them that I would wait for the slow group to catch up and just run with them. They said, “Oh, the slow group doesn’t run this far, they’ve already turned around and are heading back.” Okkaaaayyyyy. After I heard this news the two runners actually convinced me that it’s not that much farther before we turn around and that I might as well keep going. I oblige and continue running farther away from my former life… a life without leg cramps. Third mistake.

We finally reached our half-way point and I asked them how far we had gone. He responded with a smooth, “15 kilometers”. Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with thee……
I couldn’t keep up with the pace any longer and I had to bow-out of the fast group. I was no longer cool. Actually, I was so slow that I probably wouldn’t be considered part of the slow group. I was thinking about the beginning of the run when we were running so slow that I felt like walking… well, it’s not so annoying anymore. In fact, at kilometer 25, I felt so happy to be walking that I dreamed about the next logical step – sitting. So that’s what I did, I took a taxi for 3 soles ($1) back to our starting point. My pride took quite a hit when I rolled up to the parking lot in a taxi as everyone is just sitting, stretching, and of course talking about me. I told my new Peruvian friends a sincere thank you… thank you for reminding me to bring some money with me just in case I couldn’t make it. They were very kind with me telling me that I did the smart thing, and that there’s no need to push my body passed its limits. Duh, I said, as I struggle to touch my knees while stretching.

Some time soon I will visit Larcamar again. It’s a great place to watch a movie, eat at some great restaurants, and generally it’s a good atmosphere for walking around/hanging out. Of course I won’t remember Larcamar for that one Saturday that I conquered the spontaneous marathon. Rather, I will remember how smart I was to bring at least 3 soles with me so I wouldn’t have to run any farther - That decision, alone, made up for the three prior mistakes. What a view.