Lima Lessons #1 & #2

Since I'm sick, I haven't ventured too far from my bed. Just too tired. Lucky for you, I can bring my laptop to bed and type from here.

So, let me share with y'all a little more about Lima. Lima is a huge city. At a little over 8 million people, it is significantly larger than Philadelphia. We stayed in the Miraflores neighborhood of Lima. Miraflores is the premiere 'tourist' district. Many hotels, restaurants, bars and, with the plethora of policia, very safe. We were one block from the Pacific Ocean, but there is a catch. Lima's coastline is a cliff. Thus, we were 60 to 80 feet above sea level. If you wanted to get down to the water (where the surfers rode non-existent waves), you went to the boardwalk that paralleled the coastline, took the steps down and down and down, crossed the highway via pedestrian overpass, and walked across the rocks (san sand) to the water.

It is summer in Peru and the average day time temperature is in the low 80's. There might be clouds or fog, but no rain (never in Lima). Air conditioning is non-existent.

What was even more surprising was the sewer system. The city relies on the river, not the Pacific Ocean, for all of its water needs. Because of this, Lima has very little water pressure. Which brings us to Lesson #1: Do not flush the toilet paper. You learn quickly that toilet paper can wreck havoc on a sewer system that has little water pressure. Thus, you find small trash cans beside the toilets everywhere you go. This is so you can deposit your "used" toilet paper into the trash and not the toilets. Can I tell you how long it takes to get into the habit of tossing your TP into the trash?

Oh, and did I mention that many of the public toilets don't have toilet paper? Bringing us to Lesson #2: Carry toilet paper with you at all times. At first, I thought we were told to carry TP because we'd be running into lots of snotty, icky noses. Partly. Yes, I did use some of my personal TP supply to clean noses (ick!), but the majority was used to clean . . . . Well, 'nuff said.

I'm back, but I'm sick

And this is the reason why. Meet Fabian. Fabian is 18 months old, has a seizure disorder, some cognitive/attention problems and does not walk unassisted. Every morning while in Lima, Fabian and I would work one on one with the psychologist from PPA and a physical therapist. Fabian got extremely sick early last week. Sore throat, crankiness and a high fever. The fever is what predisposed him to experience a seizure. Not to worry, that wasn't his first seizure with me (so I had an idea of what was going on).

Fabian, in his effort to "compartan" (meaning 'to share' in spanish), proceeded to pass along his sick germs. I was on the mend, but my trip home set me back in my recovery. So, here I am, home safely, but working on day 6 of being sick.

Although I feel miserable, how can I be mad? Just look at him. Ain't he a cutie? Want to know what makes it even better? Fabian took his first unassisted step on Thursday! Walked all by himself for a length of 4-5 feet!

More adventures to share . . . once I get over this fatigue, cough and congestion (not to mention sore throat).

It's almost time!

When I told y'all I was going to volunteer at an orphanage, how did you picture said orphanage? Maybe a big dorm like structure? At most, a handful of buildings? That's what I had pictured. Honey, was I wrong.

All volunteers received some additional information last week that gives us more details about our volunteer program. Puericultorio Perez Aranibar (PPA), the orphanage, is like a college campus. There are over 30 buildings set on a piece of land one kilometer long and a half kilometer wide. For those of us who have trouble remembering the metric-english conversion, here it is: one kilometer is equivalent to 0.621 miles. No wonder the pre-program information emphasized that volunteers had to be flexible to time/schedule. Classes rarely start at the appointed hour. No wonder! It ain't easy moving a class of 4, 5, 6 years old (or even older) children. The best analogy I've heard is that moving a group of young children is like herding cats . . . only the kids are bigger and can talk back. Yes, this will definitely be an exercise to demonstrate flexibility of one's mental self.

Even after three pages of emailed details on the program, which contained "be flexible" in every other sentence, I am not deterred. Nervous? Yes. Who wouldn't be? Single female, traveling to a South American country with a reputation that a tourist can not leave unless they get the please-just-let-me-die bout of diarrhea or pick pocketed. I'll be sure to update you on which option was given to me.

Oh, don't worry about my husband. He has a freezer full of homemade bread and meals. I'm more worried about my little, furry, orange shadow, Ginger. This cat is so funny. She even partakes in our pre-trip preparations by napping in open suitcases, leaving a toy mouse in my husband's suitcase, becoming super-shedder-kitty leaving telltale orange fur all over our clothes and giving us those you-really-really-don't-want-to-do-this-to-me eyes. My husband tells me that when I'm traveling, she roams the house calling for me. How's that for a guilt trip?

In closing, I should have internet access while in Lima. If that is the case, I'll try to post at least two short updates on the volunteer program.

Another tip to help Mother Earth

I'd like to send a thank you to all of those who are reading and enjoying this blog. Many of you have taken the Mother Earth topic to heart and have responded with tips of your own. One of them came from my Aunt Cindy in Virginia. Cindy buys the mismatched cloth napkins from places like Crate & Barrel, Pottery Barn, etc. Many of these napkins are available for $1 or less. Then, she uses them at home in place of napkins or papertowels. In addition, she packs cloth napkins into her girls' lunch boxes. The girls love it because they get to pick out their own napkin each morning. Cindy was quick to add that the amount of napkins used doesn't contribute significantly to the weekly laundry.

Hmmm . . . might have to visit Crate & Barrel or Pottery Barn tomorrow!

Post script

Fat Tuesday-A day that most people celebrate with revelry and over-indulgence, yet I can't get happy or inspired. It started with a headache (change in atmospheric pressure) and progressed to some very traumatic, life altering news about my girlfriend from pharmacy school. If you routinely pray, please remember my girlfriend, MM.

What is your value?

I'm really struggling today. This situation with losing my job has altered my vision of me. I used to feel productive bring home the tofu bacon (a paycheck), fry it up in a pan (cooking great meals) and never letting him forgot he's a man (smooth running household where things are at your fingertips before you even realize you needed them). Bad analogy aside, it's true; defining my personal value was based solely on what I could do for others. The concept that other people might just appreciate me for me was foreign.

Me: You mean I don't have to do/bring/make something?

Collective voice of friends and family (CVFF): Yes.

Me: Well, then I guess others will only want me around if I'm in a good mood.

CVFF: No. Mood doesn't matter.

Me: Uh-huh.

My brain is a landmine of doubts. If you are able to safely detonate one doubt, there are still a million more out there.

Back to value . . . . When I was bringing home a paycheck, I was fine. Felt like a million bucks; lose the paycheck and I began to equate my value to the change I found in the dark recesses of my purse. I was relying on external factors to determine my worth.

News flash: If you want to avoid the up and down feelings of value or worthlessness, then stop looking outside! My internal bank (supposedly) has all the money/value I need. Neither my "to do" list, nor my baking makes up my value. All I need is within me. Now, if I could just remember my internal ATM code, I might realize that value.

Bad Groundhog!

I can not believe it. Well, yes I can (more on that later). We have dualing groundhog predictions. Punxsutawney Phil, bless his furry little ass, saw his shadow, thus dooming the NorthEast for an additional six weeks of winter. But, there is more from his southern cousin. Bet y'all didn't even know there was another groundhog to make the predictions? Below the Mason-Dixon line, General Beau Lee (hailing from Lilburn, GA), delighted spectators by not seeing his shadow and thus predicting an early spring for residents of the SouthEast.

Makes sense that there would be dualing predictions. Pux Phil is hauled out of his hollowed stump home before the sun comes up and is expected to make a prediction? Much less a prediction in front of more flashes than one sees at Mardi Gras (which is this Tuesday)? Would you want to provide that pesky wake up caller with good news? Hell no. General Beau is allowed to get up on his own schedule, eat breakfast, maybe have a second cup of woodchuck ale and then delight his followers with his presence. Hmmm . . . . That sounds like better treatment, which in turn might lead Gen Beau to graciously tell his followers what the rest of the country is dying to hear, "Go get your veggie seeds. It's gonna be an early spring."

T minus 8 days

After waiting for over two months, it seems surreal that I'll be on a flight to Lima in eight days. People began asking me about a week ago if I've started packing. Uhhhh . . . . no. But, that does not mean I'm just sitting here waiting for February 9th. I've collected supplies (medications, band-aids, a boatload of antibacterial gel), visited my doctor (Hep A vaccine, antibiotics incase I am struck with a bout of diarrhea) and continue my Spanish lessons. Next week will be dedicated to more Spanish language practice and packing.

For my procrastinator friends (and you know who you are), you are in luck! There is still time to donate to this wonderful cause! You can donate on-line up to this Thursday, February 7th.

Please go to https://www.globalvolunteers.org/secure/donationform.cfm
You may make a one time donation in the dollar amount of your choice. After entering your name, address and credit card information, please select “This donation is made ‘In honor of’ Christa Hooper-Wood. Please be sure to type in my name.

For those who have provided financial support, emotional support or both, thank you. I am deeply touched by your generosity.

I wanted to share with y'all one of the "emotional support" gifts I received (pictured above). Similar to a touch stone, I will carry it with me daily and, as my wise girlfriend wrote, "always remember you can find your Balance for harmony and grounding." Great philosophy many of us can incorporate into our daily lives.