Let me please start out by saying that Cusco parties TOO hard for me.
I am so completely exhausted after this week, and honestly looking forward to just taking off for the Amazon this weekend and leaving Cusco for a bit because I have a feel this weekend is going to be a giant hang over for the whoooole city.
I managed to avoid the "Ooooooh god, I'll never drink again" mantra that a lot of my classmates are sharing, especially after Tuesday. But still, I am ready for a break. Tuesday was the winter solstice here, as well as Cusco Festival, where everyone dons their ponchos and rainbow attire and parades around the streets in an organized 400 GROUPS from 7 am to.... well, I don't know. I went to bed at 3:30, and we were only group 244! And of course 3:30 still feels like 4:40 to me, even though I've been here for over a month. I enjoyed the parade once we started moving, but needless to say I didn't drink enough to a) enjoy the 8 hour wait or b) have any of the guys in the area look as appealing to me as they probably thought they did. Guys are such pricks here sometimes.
Wednesday was a day off for me, sort of. The saints came out for Corpus Christi and were carried from their respective churches to the Cathedral, so I went to see that with my professor Carlos. Then I did a bit of gift shopping, went out to lunch, went home for a bit, went out and had wine and cake for dinner, and then completely crashed.
Thursday was Corpus Christi, and while it was beautiful, I could only find motivation to watch the saints for an hour or two before wandering because there were TOO MANY PEOPLE. There is constantly too many people this week, no me gusta. At night we went to a really excellent pizza place, and then I went home to now internet and pouted for 3 hours watching West Side Story and only dreaming about working on my research paper.
Today is Inti Raymi, and I honestly have no grasp of what this festival is going to be like, so I'm looking forward to going out and seeing for myself in a few. Then I have to come home, get my stuff together, eat something, and get ready to head out by 8 pm tonight! It's all very exciting :)
Friday, June 24, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Story of How I Spent 5 Hours in a Peruvian Hospital, and the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly of Being an American Abroad
So I have truly been hesitant about posting any sort of thought beyond the very basic "what am I going to do today?" and "wow, I sure did enjoy my trip to those ruins!" for two reasons.
a) I look forward to actual one on one conversation with everyone at home, because truly it is difficult to put into words what it's like to be here. It's more than I can express with words on a screen.
b) I look at the blank page on blogger.com and completely blank as to what I have been doing with my life for the past week. What does everyone want to know? Do they even care about half the stuff I want to post on here?
Thus days go by, and words go unwritten. So I'm sorry about that if you're keeping tabs, I don't mean to keep anyone out of the loop. There have been a few personal thoughts about Americans that I would like to share on here, but first the humorous and truly pathetic tale of how I spent 5 hours in a Peruvian hospital with nothing but a pale expression of sheer panic across my face. Those poor nurses!
This tale begins on Sunday, when I woke up not with a hangover, but actual, real live crippling disease forcing me to remain pathetically glued to my bed for the entire day. And this continued for 5 day. And on the 5th day, God said "GO TO THE FUCKING CLINIC, YOU IDIOT." Not wanting to ignore God's wishes, I went to the fucking clinic.
I got a ride from Cristian's wonderful wife Fanny, who was just so sweet. Plus, it was wonderful not to have to ride in a taxi for once. Have I mentioned how scary the taxis are? No seatbelts, really fast driving all the time. You think New York is bad? I spend half the time with my hands over my eyes. But to quote the not dead yet guy from Monty Python, "I'm not dead yet!" So there.
I arrived at the hospital, and didn't have to wait long to be seen. I was really impressed by Macsalud, aside from it being a teeny bit dark and a teeny bit chilly. In general, communication is not very difficult for me, but in this situation, describing my symptoms properly was incredibly difficult, especially when I only knew three words to help me out in spanish: doloroso (painful), pastilla (throat), and enferma (sick). Eventually, I think they understood that my throat hurt, my nose was a faucet of nasty green sludge, and a variety of other truly disgusting things that showed up when I coughed and will remain nameless. All of the basic check up procedures were easy to follow. I know to breathe deeply when someone is holding a stethoscope up, and to pull up my sleeves when someone is going to test my blood pressure, etc. But I was completely unprepared to be dragged into the next room for a blood test. The second I was strapped down in that blood-taking chair, I seized up and got so pale, the poor nurse didn't know what to say, so I think she probably said every calming word she knew. I only caught "tranquilo," which means "stay calm." Obviously. Which doesn't help, because someone asking you to remain calm obviously implies reason to panic. Before closing my eyes, rolling up my sleeves and preparing for the worst, I made sure to watch where the needle was coming from, just because I am that paranoid. One less thing to worry about, everything came from a fresh package, thank god. I honestly didn't expect less considering how clean the hospital was, but still. What a relief. The little tube she connected to the needle was different than what's used for blood tests in America, but I didn't actually keep my eyes open for the process. I managed to get a sidelong glance in the mirror afterward, and WOW did I get pale quickly after that. As if I wasn't scared enough having to get blood drawn, the doctor asked me if I'd ever had a serious chest infection before and how long ago. He said my breathing sounded strained and he wanted to make sure my lungs were not showing any signs of fluid build up, so down I went to get x rays. This wasn't so much scary as it was confusing, because they have no place to take your clothes off. So, freezing cold and stripped down in public to my tank top (using my skills from theater quick changes to get my bra off awkwardly), I stood against the metal plate and got my first (and hopefully last) Peruvian x rays taken. I actually got to see them, which was so fucking cool, I have never seen my own x rays before. You can see your ribs, heart, lungs, everything!
But ok, back to being scared. Because I was at the time. I then had to wait for my test results to come in, which took about 3 hours. They escorted me up to a nice guest suite, but unfortunately I spent the entire three hours coughing and curled up in the fetal position balling my eyes out. The worst part is you had a perfect view of the airport from the window, and I seriously couldn't stop thinking about jumping on that plane and going home right that minute.
At about 2 in the afternoon the doctor comes in and tells me that THANK GOD I am well enough to make the trek to Machu Picchu this weekend, and I have an upper respiratory infection that, with some sleep and a shit ton of antibiotics, should be out of my system in 5 more days or less. I have four different kinds of meds to take, all for various nasty symptoms, and then they sent me on my way. And the only really good part about this, besides finding out I was in fact not going to die, was that on the way home Fanny brought her children in the car and they are SO cute, oh my god.
So my advice is, invest in some spanish medical terminology before you go to a spanish speaking country. For real.
Now on to something more serious than upper respiratory infections.
Americans.
Let me start off by saying that when you tell people you're studying abroad, you're going to get a lot of opinions on how not to act. Everyone is going to want to tell you what "Americans do abroad."
It's not as bad as people say. For the most part.
It's easy when you go to another culture to step into a role of an observer, soaking in everything you can about the other culture, and whether you like it or not, passing judgment. This is not something you can help, it's human nature. You're going to do it to them, and they in turn will do it to you. And it's very easy, because noticing differences is very easy to do. It's even easy to notice the similarities in comparison to how difficult it is to observe yourself and other Americans, "some of your own," in a foreign country. At first, you won't notice them, and you won't notice the difference between an American, the British, the French, or any other white, westernized woman walking down the street in a North Face jacket and sunglasses. Who comes from where is not important. When you're in a foreign country, one of the most important things you can do it take a step back, and look at yourself for a change, and your culture. Observe yourself as an anthropologist, and study your own culture from their perspective. No one really cares about time here, but you check your watch constantly. Here, that is rude. You may take pride in your timeliness, but you also have to understand why whoever you are meeting with looks so offended. Is he not worth your time? You don't call to check in on your family today, but to them, it looks like you don't care about your kin because family is THE most important thing, whereas we strive for independence, and are proud of that, but it's an ugly American trait here.
Don't be ashamed that you're different, and don't try to hide the fact that you're American. Don't walk around in a stars and stripes bathing suit, but when someone asks you about our country, don't say "well, that's not me." It probably IS you, but you have to explain why we do what we do. And then show you've noticed how they do things differently, show that you've learned something by being here. The two worst things you could do abroad is to either deny your own culture and try to hide, or to completely resist the other culture to the point of looking arrogant. Just take it in stride. Be proud of where you come from, and be proud of your new home.
a) I look forward to actual one on one conversation with everyone at home, because truly it is difficult to put into words what it's like to be here. It's more than I can express with words on a screen.
b) I look at the blank page on blogger.com and completely blank as to what I have been doing with my life for the past week. What does everyone want to know? Do they even care about half the stuff I want to post on here?
Thus days go by, and words go unwritten. So I'm sorry about that if you're keeping tabs, I don't mean to keep anyone out of the loop. There have been a few personal thoughts about Americans that I would like to share on here, but first the humorous and truly pathetic tale of how I spent 5 hours in a Peruvian hospital with nothing but a pale expression of sheer panic across my face. Those poor nurses!
This tale begins on Sunday, when I woke up not with a hangover, but actual, real live crippling disease forcing me to remain pathetically glued to my bed for the entire day. And this continued for 5 day. And on the 5th day, God said "GO TO THE FUCKING CLINIC, YOU IDIOT." Not wanting to ignore God's wishes, I went to the fucking clinic.
I got a ride from Cristian's wonderful wife Fanny, who was just so sweet. Plus, it was wonderful not to have to ride in a taxi for once. Have I mentioned how scary the taxis are? No seatbelts, really fast driving all the time. You think New York is bad? I spend half the time with my hands over my eyes. But to quote the not dead yet guy from Monty Python, "I'm not dead yet!" So there.
I arrived at the hospital, and didn't have to wait long to be seen. I was really impressed by Macsalud, aside from it being a teeny bit dark and a teeny bit chilly. In general, communication is not very difficult for me, but in this situation, describing my symptoms properly was incredibly difficult, especially when I only knew three words to help me out in spanish: doloroso (painful), pastilla (throat), and enferma (sick). Eventually, I think they understood that my throat hurt, my nose was a faucet of nasty green sludge, and a variety of other truly disgusting things that showed up when I coughed and will remain nameless. All of the basic check up procedures were easy to follow. I know to breathe deeply when someone is holding a stethoscope up, and to pull up my sleeves when someone is going to test my blood pressure, etc. But I was completely unprepared to be dragged into the next room for a blood test. The second I was strapped down in that blood-taking chair, I seized up and got so pale, the poor nurse didn't know what to say, so I think she probably said every calming word she knew. I only caught "tranquilo," which means "stay calm." Obviously. Which doesn't help, because someone asking you to remain calm obviously implies reason to panic. Before closing my eyes, rolling up my sleeves and preparing for the worst, I made sure to watch where the needle was coming from, just because I am that paranoid. One less thing to worry about, everything came from a fresh package, thank god. I honestly didn't expect less considering how clean the hospital was, but still. What a relief. The little tube she connected to the needle was different than what's used for blood tests in America, but I didn't actually keep my eyes open for the process. I managed to get a sidelong glance in the mirror afterward, and WOW did I get pale quickly after that. As if I wasn't scared enough having to get blood drawn, the doctor asked me if I'd ever had a serious chest infection before and how long ago. He said my breathing sounded strained and he wanted to make sure my lungs were not showing any signs of fluid build up, so down I went to get x rays. This wasn't so much scary as it was confusing, because they have no place to take your clothes off. So, freezing cold and stripped down in public to my tank top (using my skills from theater quick changes to get my bra off awkwardly), I stood against the metal plate and got my first (and hopefully last) Peruvian x rays taken. I actually got to see them, which was so fucking cool, I have never seen my own x rays before. You can see your ribs, heart, lungs, everything!
But ok, back to being scared. Because I was at the time. I then had to wait for my test results to come in, which took about 3 hours. They escorted me up to a nice guest suite, but unfortunately I spent the entire three hours coughing and curled up in the fetal position balling my eyes out. The worst part is you had a perfect view of the airport from the window, and I seriously couldn't stop thinking about jumping on that plane and going home right that minute.
At about 2 in the afternoon the doctor comes in and tells me that THANK GOD I am well enough to make the trek to Machu Picchu this weekend, and I have an upper respiratory infection that, with some sleep and a shit ton of antibiotics, should be out of my system in 5 more days or less. I have four different kinds of meds to take, all for various nasty symptoms, and then they sent me on my way. And the only really good part about this, besides finding out I was in fact not going to die, was that on the way home Fanny brought her children in the car and they are SO cute, oh my god.
So my advice is, invest in some spanish medical terminology before you go to a spanish speaking country. For real.
Now on to something more serious than upper respiratory infections.
Americans.
Let me start off by saying that when you tell people you're studying abroad, you're going to get a lot of opinions on how not to act. Everyone is going to want to tell you what "Americans do abroad."
It's not as bad as people say. For the most part.
It's easy when you go to another culture to step into a role of an observer, soaking in everything you can about the other culture, and whether you like it or not, passing judgment. This is not something you can help, it's human nature. You're going to do it to them, and they in turn will do it to you. And it's very easy, because noticing differences is very easy to do. It's even easy to notice the similarities in comparison to how difficult it is to observe yourself and other Americans, "some of your own," in a foreign country. At first, you won't notice them, and you won't notice the difference between an American, the British, the French, or any other white, westernized woman walking down the street in a North Face jacket and sunglasses. Who comes from where is not important. When you're in a foreign country, one of the most important things you can do it take a step back, and look at yourself for a change, and your culture. Observe yourself as an anthropologist, and study your own culture from their perspective. No one really cares about time here, but you check your watch constantly. Here, that is rude. You may take pride in your timeliness, but you also have to understand why whoever you are meeting with looks so offended. Is he not worth your time? You don't call to check in on your family today, but to them, it looks like you don't care about your kin because family is THE most important thing, whereas we strive for independence, and are proud of that, but it's an ugly American trait here.
Don't be ashamed that you're different, and don't try to hide the fact that you're American. Don't walk around in a stars and stripes bathing suit, but when someone asks you about our country, don't say "well, that's not me." It probably IS you, but you have to explain why we do what we do. And then show you've noticed how they do things differently, show that you've learned something by being here. The two worst things you could do abroad is to either deny your own culture and try to hide, or to completely resist the other culture to the point of looking arrogant. Just take it in stride. Be proud of where you come from, and be proud of your new home.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
TWO MORE WEEKS?!?!?
Wow, seriously, where the hell did the time go? I honestly am hitting the point where I am excited to come home. I think it definitely has something to do with how sick I am, I have been sick for fooooouuuuurrrrr days, and not even like the "I'm getting better!" kind. I feel like crapola. It's not like I have some strange Peruvian illness, it's just a common cold, but I still want to be in tip top shape for Machu Picchu, you know?
I probably over extended myself this weekend, I had sooo much fun but no more. I definitely am happy I had an entire weekend in Cusco to meet people and go out and stuff, but I only need one weekend of that. I have so little time! I can't do the same thing twice.
I also just found out today I get to march in a sort of Cusqueno pride parade where we all wear ponchos and dance around and probably drink because they just love doing that here, haha. I am so excited!
Classes have been good, learning stuff, you know. Not much detail to get into.
But yeah, I love everything here but I am starting to miss people that I am familiar with. Not people I just met, though I love that too, I just miss real milk and real ketchup and home cooking and warm nights and the beach and my cat and speaking english frequently. I can't wait :)
I probably over extended myself this weekend, I had sooo much fun but no more. I definitely am happy I had an entire weekend in Cusco to meet people and go out and stuff, but I only need one weekend of that. I have so little time! I can't do the same thing twice.
I also just found out today I get to march in a sort of Cusqueno pride parade where we all wear ponchos and dance around and probably drink because they just love doing that here, haha. I am so excited!
Classes have been good, learning stuff, you know. Not much detail to get into.
But yeah, I love everything here but I am starting to miss people that I am familiar with. Not people I just met, though I love that too, I just miss real milk and real ketchup and home cooking and warm nights and the beach and my cat and speaking english frequently. I can't wait :)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
IT'S BEEN A WEEK!
Sorry everyone! It's been a week, I apologize! I've just been very busy with school and elections and trips. Both Spanish and Art & Design (better known as Iconography) are just excellent. As frustrating as Spanish is sometimes, I love that we have to be there 3 hours a day, 5 days a week because I don't forget anything, which is nice. In Iconography, we've taken a lot of trips, and it's great that it is just myself, Rudy, and Carlos. It works perfectly, and I learn best through reading, writing, and conversation. I also remember things well from this class.
But yeah, let's move on to the REALLY fun stuff. I have eaten great things, but the best by far was yesterday. We went to El Chombo something something. I think. I'm terrible with el restaurante names here. But I just had the braised beef, carne a la braise. BEST meal I have had here, it was so good and wholesome and we were surrounded by locals and music and it was just wonderful. So muchos gracias Carlos for showing me that. I was too chicken to try chica, because there was so much of it, and the last thing I wanted to do was to drink too much during class, especially since Rudy and I shared a fantastic sundae with gelato and kaluha yesterday afternoon.
We went on our Sacred Valley tour sunday, and all of the ruins were just gorgeous, especially Pisaq. I'm one shade darker from that! Also we went to Tipon and I tried cuy for the first and last time in my life! Guinea pigs don't have much meat on them, so they were a bit of a hassel to eat, but they tasted like smoked chicken, so I am not against them for their flavor. Just the effort it takes.
Ollanta won the election. I definitely have opinions, but because he is not mi Presidente I'll reserve judgment for the people of Peru. There are definitely articles out and about in English and Spanish, check em out.
The last night before the dry period around elections we went to The Frog, which was my favorite bar so far, I definitely recommend it. It's great because it is not in the main square, so there are fewer people.
Um... I don't know what else. My week days are pretty routine. Go to spanish early, either get out and go home to eat or explore out and about for two or three hours. Go back to school, get out at 5, either run some errands, get food if I didn't have lunch, or just go straight home. Then I'll probably study and do some tarea, watch two episodes of Dexter, catch up with some people and get to bed between 11-1. The weekends are always an adventure, and I will be sure to post photos on here later!
Also, the only food that has made me feel sick here is McDonald's. Irony.
But yeah, let's move on to the REALLY fun stuff. I have eaten great things, but the best by far was yesterday. We went to El Chombo something something. I think. I'm terrible with el restaurante names here. But I just had the braised beef, carne a la braise. BEST meal I have had here, it was so good and wholesome and we were surrounded by locals and music and it was just wonderful. So muchos gracias Carlos for showing me that. I was too chicken to try chica, because there was so much of it, and the last thing I wanted to do was to drink too much during class, especially since Rudy and I shared a fantastic sundae with gelato and kaluha yesterday afternoon.
We went on our Sacred Valley tour sunday, and all of the ruins were just gorgeous, especially Pisaq. I'm one shade darker from that! Also we went to Tipon and I tried cuy for the first and last time in my life! Guinea pigs don't have much meat on them, so they were a bit of a hassel to eat, but they tasted like smoked chicken, so I am not against them for their flavor. Just the effort it takes.
Ollanta won the election. I definitely have opinions, but because he is not mi Presidente I'll reserve judgment for the people of Peru. There are definitely articles out and about in English and Spanish, check em out.
The last night before the dry period around elections we went to The Frog, which was my favorite bar so far, I definitely recommend it. It's great because it is not in the main square, so there are fewer people.
Um... I don't know what else. My week days are pretty routine. Go to spanish early, either get out and go home to eat or explore out and about for two or three hours. Go back to school, get out at 5, either run some errands, get food if I didn't have lunch, or just go straight home. Then I'll probably study and do some tarea, watch two episodes of Dexter, catch up with some people and get to bed between 11-1. The weekends are always an adventure, and I will be sure to post photos on here later!
Also, the only food that has made me feel sick here is McDonald's. Irony.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Just putting it out there
Learning Spanish after French is muy dificil. Right now, I think in French, am attempting to speak in Spanish, and am forgetting English more and more every day. It can give you quite the headache. Mostly the issue is pronunciation, or mixing up words that are slightly similar in French. Like numbers. I am honestly struggling the most with numbers. Because they are similar, but are absolutely not the same. I have to count in my head to get to a number instead of immediately spitting it out because otherwise, it will come out in french. Vignt et un will immediately pop into my head instead of Vientiuno. I feel like my brain is working a lot slower because I have to filter from French to English to Spanish and then back again. I can't wait until it gets easier.
In other news, I am going to the amazon and I am eating pig's heart today. Adios!
In other news, I am going to the amazon and I am eating pig's heart today. Adios!
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