tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74302792700564040992024-02-18T18:49:11.094-08:00A Peruvian PeacecordianEm Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.comBlogger89125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-49689888310415700672012-07-10T18:47:00.000-07:002012-07-10T18:47:28.001-07:00Bus WindowsHola a todos that still check in with my blog!<br />
Recently I have been traveling within Ancash a bunch... up and down the callejon de Huaylas in pimped out combis, cruzing down south with Regional Coordinator Nelly to develop new Huaywash sites for the volunteers that will be here in a month already, driving up to Shilla for a quick visit.... and I find that I generally really enjoy these trips. All you need to do is put the headphones in, the ipod on, a good playlist and voila! Distraction from loud unwanted noises such as huayno blasting from the car radio, gross men talking about unpleasant things, and small babies crying. Amazingly enough good music also takes away from unpleasant feet or campesino smells as well. And besides just serving as a distraction it also allows me to just contemplate everything that is going on especially in these last few months that I am here in Peru as a peacecordian. I let the lyrics and music sweep me up as a stare out bus windows and just let myself FEEL. Sometimes when there are too many things going on around you feeling can be exhausting especially when you're mostly feeling sadness, confusion, anxiety and other emotions that seem equally not fun. But in a combi with my playlist on, I let my band friends do the talking: Currently mostly Calle 13, Manu Chao, The Civil Wars, Elliot Smith... among others. Sigh.<br />
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Recently on one of these trips I realized why I feel so crazy and desperate about my imminent departure from this country I have grown to know so well. It's because well. I am breaking up with Peru after a 3 year intimate relationship. So intimate that it's confusing. It's nothing that Peru did specifically.. It's not Peru, it's me. I think I need to get to know myself outside of the context of this relationship. And, hey, get to know other countries too maybe while I'm at it. Peru wasn't a bad boyfriend - far from it. We got along splendidly, have many of the same things in common. Peru challenged me to grow in ways I didn't think I could. I cried. I laughed. I skipped hand in hand at times . Clutched longingly at toilets while on the ground in severe pain. Stared confusingly at its people, understood and felt part of its people, became one with its mountains, choked on its dust, gotten sick on its bacteria and parasites. We've even had our spats. I mean, there have been times I have been so angry at Peru especially when it comes to injustice and the "red tape" processes. But now, as it's coming to an end I feel forlorn. Part of me doesn't want to leave the familiar. It's what I know and what I've made into a home these past few years. But I know I need to break free and it won't be easy. I calm myself with promises that I will come back and visit as OFTEN as possible, that I will call Peru all the time and make sure it's still included in my life. I'm a bit scared even to take off and go back to the states, figure out my next step and keep going on this whole "life" thing. <br />
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I guess what I'm really trying to say is: I think I'm ready and I'm getting excited about my little adventure/trip after Peace Corps ends, going home, visiting friends and family and Christmas and the new bunny in the house (her name's Panda... isn't that just a great name?), getting some sort of job, going to grad schoolEm Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-7174265307594563562011-11-03T10:20:00.000-07:002011-11-03T11:22:21.455-07:00Metaphors<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT9SxS4WjgQKe_CFU2aO-hUibmngeb7no-SOBA-haAyPN_FNumyOVa4ew-1wXpOL-QcsIOSIb-7It9ewsR1BYzrR33Zj96IPA57GqxFnGbBVmCdVw5keZsLgjd5zL2hDVFo_LoDGlw_8/s1600/IMG_3729.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT9SxS4WjgQKe_CFU2aO-hUibmngeb7no-SOBA-haAyPN_FNumyOVa4ew-1wXpOL-QcsIOSIb-7It9ewsR1BYzrR33Zj96IPA57GqxFnGbBVmCdVw5keZsLgjd5zL2hDVFo_LoDGlw_8/s200/IMG_3729.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670835883039738978" /></a><br /><br />Buenas! <div> </div><div> Peace Corps... in colloquial terms... is one hell of a ride. Yes, I realize that I would be growing and changing and becoming more mature no matter where in the world I would have been or what type of trabajo I would have been doing, but there is something about living in this country, constantly fighting cultural battles, coming to terms with my own American-ness, the ups and downs of language acquisition, seeing poverty face on (and living there but still feeling separated from it somehow), and being violently ill frequently that when combined has made my mental health... well, go nuts. I know what lowest of the lows and highest of the highs means now. I had an idea before but now I've LIVED it. It's every moment: the "I've want to QUIT RIGHT NOW" times and the "I feel so connected to this community and everybody in my town loves me" times. The extremes are so extreme. This journey has turned every easy going stable even keeled peace corps volunteer I know into a bawling euphoric crazy person mess. En serio. Why, just this past week I was elated and excited about Halloween and newbies coming, felt awesome and competent at teaching geography/Mapamundi in INABIF, then felt like the worst teacher in the world as the kids in Antipayan chewed me up and spit me out for two hours and then two days later I cried my EYES out for no good reason for two hours. No joke. There was really no reason for it. I'm officially crazy. As I always so eloquently put it two hours before ending any hike or any endurance adventure: "I'm DONE!". Peace out. Completely checked out of the building. Done. </div><div><br /></div><div> It doesn't matter if you've already been here for two and a half years. It doesn't make it any easier and you never know when feelings will strike. </div><div><br /></div><div> With that said, I feel like, this year I have taken epic trips which serve as appropriate metaphors (NOT smilies... there's no "like" about it) for my time here in Peace Corps. The best metaphor? The climb to the summit of Ishinca Mountain. Let me explain:</div><div><br /></div><div> Never in my life did I think I would even THINK about climbing a mountain. Ice? Snow? Pick axes? That's the stuff of The Weekly Reader, my friend. What I read back in 2nd grade from the safety of my desk on the coast of California in elementary school. But alas, when you date a mountain guide and you live in the Andes and everybody else is doing it... well... it all the sudden becomes feasible in your mind (I already explained I'm going crazy). So, Raul took Christie and I over Fiestas Patrias to climb the "easiest" of these montaƱas... Ishinca. The three hour only slight up hill walk to base camp wasn't so bad so I was feeling pretty good about the whole thing. We went to bed by 6 pm anyway, ready to wake up at 1 a.m. to start the trek. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CpIFuCO89qVkPQLPZoJW7G7RNcW7sS3oYK_22t7WUAJhJsZvrM9xFny1Bd7NKz654aAOxmiAOUzFOiQutK3UH1Zpei9-SztRcmQ407oQop6Ov8RDX4R7JYIHSZ24Ne6pmC0uo1i1_WE/s1600/IMG_3657.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5CpIFuCO89qVkPQLPZoJW7G7RNcW7sS3oYK_22t7WUAJhJsZvrM9xFny1Bd7NKz654aAOxmiAOUzFOiQutK3UH1Zpei9-SztRcmQ407oQop6Ov8RDX4R7JYIHSZ24Ne6pmC0uo1i1_WE/s200/IMG_3657.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670834075586622194" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNCTNVQ83jivZjpu-w9CGC4jGdCUxBHab9FJSGOBKpp41VKkJpRaA6MnbAShHS8M_2nm9Xgmxy_6ppiQX4a_K39QsDwcgO1CMd0IPuzBGC397EkAuAkAiAoaVel40eeuATbXYcYTTbdI/s1600/IMG_3674.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZNCTNVQ83jivZjpu-w9CGC4jGdCUxBHab9FJSGOBKpp41VKkJpRaA6MnbAShHS8M_2nm9Xgmxy_6ppiQX4a_K39QsDwcgO1CMd0IPuzBGC397EkAuAkAiAoaVel40eeuATbXYcYTTbdI/s200/IMG_3674.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670834076542510498" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>Base Camp<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> "I could walk on snow all day!"</div><div><br /></div><div> After sometime you feel yourself get into a rhythm. I liked walking through the night, not being able to see anything ahead, only your current footstep mattered and once I started keeping a steady slow pace things were ok. Once we were close to the ice I have never felt that COLD. HOMBRE. It sliced right through the 3 pairs of pants I was wearing (SNOW pants mind you) and it was starting to get steeper. When we reached the ice, out came the crampons (the spikey things you attach to your shoes to be able to walk on snow). I was very nervous and did not believe those spike shoes would prevent me from falling. But, hey! Those things DO work, who'd of known? And when we got onto the ice I felt SO elated! I could walk on snow ALL DAY LONG! (I'm pretty sure I shouted that out loud). I felt secure and pretty strong and WOOT. The top didn't look all THAT far away!</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMEma8s8SxPHMfN8xfGAVPIjv9D0UfaQF7iZGnp7RE9IcwQFBAFzHdT7OdROMR3g7cV7qWtHd6Kwp6h8l7D_zK1CXwr7NYwYHTAMo_oU4k7zO3thuBnBZRc8YikcswD1OqKiVBMwQLaA/s1600/IMG_3684.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaMEma8s8SxPHMfN8xfGAVPIjv9D0UfaQF7iZGnp7RE9IcwQFBAFzHdT7OdROMR3g7cV7qWtHd6Kwp6h8l7D_zK1CXwr7NYwYHTAMo_oU4k7zO3thuBnBZRc8YikcswD1OqKiVBMwQLaA/s200/IMG_3684.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670834086718388706" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPX9ciPGEnIUYwgM4BW-Mz7tlegEW6O_Ykr-ySn_gaiQIcpB3FcWpMrKe-vySkUSF76VGUelAkcCsWwhL59FE83Mqd0KYRMyw-dm04DWBf1EsWoIKZ1cn3cBTdUBidnJ7xnUcRQ4y1xdE/s1600/IMG_3705.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPX9ciPGEnIUYwgM4BW-Mz7tlegEW6O_Ykr-ySn_gaiQIcpB3FcWpMrKe-vySkUSF76VGUelAkcCsWwhL59FE83Mqd0KYRMyw-dm04DWBf1EsWoIKZ1cn3cBTdUBidnJ7xnUcRQ4y1xdE/s200/IMG_3705.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670834089847748018" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>Spike Shoes and Pretty Views</div><div><br /></div><div>Cut to 3 1/2 hours later... Tired.... leg muscles shaking... confidence lacking.... nerves setting in... the summit was still a ways a way and it looked like we had to climb two ice walls in order to get there. That's when I sat on the ground and literally was ready to call it a day. I wouldn't have gone up there. Would have been just content enough with the beautiful view to say "DONE!" if it wasn't for the fact that Christie was also tied to my rope and really wanted to get to the top (we were very close after all). So. I just had to keep going. There was no where else to go but up (you getting the metaphor now?). </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgM7WxJ82P04dKyYx3MWnREvp46rb5pVirUc64ek4giPkoa_xTeiJplvM1gtaJ_eokwMovSmahcup_VXD47hpOqbt5OYsmTfBLwD9mIQ3l2YSuhU6XAnO5-Pbm4h1np5XfObcJGFbyBM/s1600/IMG_3710.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgM7WxJ82P04dKyYx3MWnREvp46rb5pVirUc64ek4giPkoa_xTeiJplvM1gtaJ_eokwMovSmahcup_VXD47hpOqbt5OYsmTfBLwD9mIQ3l2YSuhU6XAnO5-Pbm4h1np5XfObcJGFbyBM/s200/IMG_3710.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670834094428830018" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>I call this one: I'm DONE!</div><div><br /></div><div> Cut to the very last bit. Climbing (or scrambling and crying in my case) up the snow wall to the top. Halfway up my nerves were so gone that I just stood, shaking, tears pouring out of me, screaming like a small child, could not. would not. continue. Just leave me here. pitiful. I just apparently had to get it all out of me for a good 5 minutes and then I just kept going until we made it. It felt so rewarding (although I was still shaken) to be there and to have done it. 9 hours of uphill paid off- but it wasn't done yet. There's always still the bajada (going down) and Raul wanted to go down the other side of the mountain which meant we had to be lowered down with a rope, over a crevasse and then jump backwards. Oy. I was done. No mas. I was so ready to just live on the top of Ishinca for the rest of my life. But I was forced into moving and seriously.. there is nothing like the feeling of sweet sweet relief. So much so, that that feeling stayed with me for basically the rest of the way down the snow. SO happy to be alive! How beautiful is this earth! Etc. Etc. :) </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVNBBVSpaPpxr-_ngv7D8ZqWrSgJniA1NH1MAhUx5RC9Ut7cR1MB82qNclUbY0leX3ID7ORBWzkr1I97ksBBOfi-VgT8FJ2hXOQXSchtKyGJSGV74NTBI4rktJAIhGxqTzZ_aoWN6hBhQ/s1600/IMG_3711.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVNBBVSpaPpxr-_ngv7D8ZqWrSgJniA1NH1MAhUx5RC9Ut7cR1MB82qNclUbY0leX3ID7ORBWzkr1I97ksBBOfi-VgT8FJ2hXOQXSchtKyGJSGV74NTBI4rktJAIhGxqTzZ_aoWN6hBhQ/s200/IMG_3711.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670835870097715474" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDmQVR9Vd4iIrWpn3yavfj4bTtgDG5nf3q3Ct2uaRmAyRj2svagfSFE0oVIvAEMDkSExdtxx_1wyB__ZvkW6-XDLuiexFgdVJGXtMKiYw64d-RRBcCvQdMm0lLNs-gemnOC4ppLOimdw/s1600/IMG_3715.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDmQVR9Vd4iIrWpn3yavfj4bTtgDG5nf3q3Ct2uaRmAyRj2svagfSFE0oVIvAEMDkSExdtxx_1wyB__ZvkW6-XDLuiexFgdVJGXtMKiYw64d-RRBcCvQdMm0lLNs-gemnOC4ppLOimdw/s200/IMG_3715.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670835879743018946" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>The summit!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVNBBVSpaPpxr-_ngv7D8ZqWrSgJniA1NH1MAhUx5RC9Ut7cR1MB82qNclUbY0leX3ID7ORBWzkr1I97ksBBOfi-VgT8FJ2hXOQXSchtKyGJSGV74NTBI4rktJAIhGxqTzZ_aoWN6hBhQ/s1600/IMG_3711.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>Then we reached the gravely rocks. Frustration sets in, I'm definitely not a mountain goat when it comes to going downhill. So I decided to get creative in order to solve the problem and get down faster. I literally slid on my butt for a good 15 minutes (those poor pants.. so many holes) but I did get down faster! It was effective! I don't care what Raul says. For the last hour or so we literally ran (it wasn't so steep). The end was in site, the weather good, the trail not too slippery... and we BOOKED it! The whole experience felt like a WONDERFUL way to cap off my two years in Shilla. It WAS my two years in Shilla.. just in... a 13 hours span instead of 27 months. I don't need to explain the comparisons, right? Some things, like the crying, can just be cut and pasted from the mountain to my room. :)</div><div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVNyI5AN4OtJDekY4o-vsupmxFj1hfwCZwptlN1AuMWQSL34K_rAuDNgSJ18QRLNdVshbtRodKJGrKsbhvKvKYuSU5pcVPwx377EokegwoElZozB-p3Usd67annCyD-2uCe0Y64zwGtw/s1600/IMG_3719.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVNyI5AN4OtJDekY4o-vsupmxFj1hfwCZwptlN1AuMWQSL34K_rAuDNgSJ18QRLNdVshbtRodKJGrKsbhvKvKYuSU5pcVPwx377EokegwoElZozB-p3Usd67annCyD-2uCe0Y64zwGtw/s200/IMG_3719.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670835875166233042" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /> </a> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpGjygNOerUP2o9aVysY8rIIL2jZoauivQ0yvaHBQh3zC3Ust-3jhBVOQM0ktNBLzVaHqxjLt-9pZDcFOYPo7iFKpMWEO89bKZkXRFj3Lt6B6Rb7PUjX1_ikfanskZ22P-lhNMabaoj4/s1600/IMG_3743.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpGjygNOerUP2o9aVysY8rIIL2jZoauivQ0yvaHBQh3zC3Ust-3jhBVOQM0ktNBLzVaHqxjLt-9pZDcFOYPo7iFKpMWEO89bKZkXRFj3Lt6B6Rb7PUjX1_ikfanskZ22P-lhNMabaoj4/s200/IMG_3743.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670835886544725122" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /> </a></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpGjygNOerUP2o9aVysY8rIIL2jZoauivQ0yvaHBQh3zC3Ust-3jhBVOQM0ktNBLzVaHqxjLt-9pZDcFOYPo7iFKpMWEO89bKZkXRFj3Lt6B6Rb7PUjX1_ikfanskZ22P-lhNMabaoj4/s1600/IMG_3743.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>We have to do WHAT now? <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> The End. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGVNyI5AN4OtJDekY4o-vsupmxFj1hfwCZwptlN1AuMWQSL34K_rAuDNgSJ18QRLNdVshbtRodKJGrKsbhvKvKYuSU5pcVPwx377EokegwoElZozB-p3Usd67annCyD-2uCe0Y64zwGtw/s1600/IMG_3719.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>Peace Corps is like a marathon.... see? Similes just aren't as good! I guess what I'm trying to say is... if you want to know what my last two years have been like, go climb a mountain? Yeah. Go climb a mountain. Your own personal mountain.</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos desde los Andes,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-56730645371616547592011-10-18T18:15:00.001-07:002011-10-18T19:15:22.907-07:00Estoy viva!Hola a todo el mundo!<div><div><div><div> Now before everyone starts to quejar (complain) that I haven't written in a while... please, just see the title of my last blog... times were a-changin! I left my site of Shilla after two years, I had a wonderful month in August back in Ventura, and now am finally settling in to my new trabajo and living in Huaraz! The big city, hombre. If New York is The Big Apple... I guess Huaraz would be... The Big Cuy? 100,000 people. Movin' on up. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> Now. No voy a mentir. It's taking some adjusting. I miss my campo lifestyle much more than I thought. Don't get me wrong! I love my daily (if I want to) hot showers, gym membership (yay for latin dance classes!), opportunity to eat what I want (if only I knew how to cook!), wi-fi in my room (skype 24/7 = more Matwee time) and new apartment (teal and yellow walls = awesomeness)... but I miss my host familia like crazy as well as my host mom's usually awesome cooking, going to recoger the burro with Floricta, reading to Itzel, Shilla's lifestyle, the kids and just plain living in an adobe house like it was nobody's business. One of my favorite pastimes was ducking in and out of my little door to my house and seeing the surprised faces of passing vehicles of peruvians and gringo tourists to see a tall white girl living there. Sigh. The little things. Now I'm clean, my hair is more manageable, my socios (the professionals I work with) have RPM (which means we can communicate for free via phone) and hey! I'm actually doing work! Looky there. In the last month I have been more productive than the last two years put together :) No joke. It's only a slight exaggeration. Slight. I like what I'm doing and I'm busy. Busy. Busy. Just being here for a month and a half as PCVL in Huaraz has given me a whole new perspective and respect for what other peacecordians are doing in their little pueblos (and what I did). If volunteers are truly living in there site, are present and making friends... then, hats off to them! It's a whole different kind of hard out there in the little mountain towns that I didn't truly understand until I came out of it. </div><div><br /></div><div> Anywho. I wanted to take this opportunity to relay the list of things that I've learned now from living the city life since September 1st. </div><div><br /></div><div>1. Don't pack a powdery white substance (in my case... pancake mix) in your luggage in a plastic tupperware. That can look a little sketch. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2edCa0RiRBmdK-3cEC5HIq1dve1NAzY-eRrgmtCAwiP3-qrmzKaxfUxp3TY0IpyATnc2IcJ6wmz3JI-y-eXWtacfj8PVZfAUNljslTLlHvL-1at3TgpGMUmO8oKw2nJTZc_IM9dJdMNE/s1600/IMG_3831.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2edCa0RiRBmdK-3cEC5HIq1dve1NAzY-eRrgmtCAwiP3-qrmzKaxfUxp3TY0IpyATnc2IcJ6wmz3JI-y-eXWtacfj8PVZfAUNljslTLlHvL-1at3TgpGMUmO8oKw2nJTZc_IM9dJdMNE/s200/IMG_3831.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665013309494460402" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a> </div><div>2. Do learn how to cook. I can only eat so many quesadillas. </div><div><br /></div><div>3. You will continue to get dangerously ill in the city. Don't let Huaraz fool you... you're still in Ancash.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Re-learn how to use the internet. There are so many other things you can do/look up/read besides Facebook! The news exists! </div><div><br /></div><div>5. The teens in a city are slightly different. i.e. The girls don't cover their mouths out of embarrassment when they talk and they like to contribute ideas! And the boys can still be little jerks. </div><div><br /></div><div>6. The mamas I work with still appreciate Quechua. </div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXnL_v0M10iquOC21Jz4y6NBeFb4y5a5pt6xld9vo3OUVT5sFYQMWUJzIcsb63KHKcUEQPzTW-K3xEG79qZf_7GvSPzVn1SUmqd8z7CqDkPX0A7w05hZcqVEbpoE37perWYRtPzSCuqy0/s1600/P1000322.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXnL_v0M10iquOC21Jz4y6NBeFb4y5a5pt6xld9vo3OUVT5sFYQMWUJzIcsb63KHKcUEQPzTW-K3xEG79qZf_7GvSPzVn1SUmqd8z7CqDkPX0A7w05hZcqVEbpoE37perWYRtPzSCuqy0/s200/P1000322.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665016543404471154" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgFn49bQbKI7eGautRgNvRHjk7s3tolD1o4DH7k3QA5Ker7vCmz-OxDZ6a02SPPPKOZiR-7HJFIkryDgqCnfymhrMzC9H60fP_OArXEl9ezXeipLmtOLXJe7PRP82XFUb1jvCy8lU1nE/s1600/P1000329.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgFn49bQbKI7eGautRgNvRHjk7s3tolD1o4DH7k3QA5Ker7vCmz-OxDZ6a02SPPPKOZiR-7HJFIkryDgqCnfymhrMzC9H60fP_OArXEl9ezXeipLmtOLXJe7PRP82XFUb1jvCy8lU1nE/s200/P1000329.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665016540091594290" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>7. Have friends over all the time. They sometimes cook for you! Invest in a colchoneta (little mattress).</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbKbfjOpBSMYCZqhNvXBCgH0tbqCoEq8IifH4MBRf9L147BofY_RDacJBM-NaFqGRcRmzUplrMWKsfnns1BOULt2gQYVsnMoHEDQv4hGSLxv44SVwuU5w_4B-Ih9ZrqbwavcrECnsiJI/s1600/IMG_3839.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbKbfjOpBSMYCZqhNvXBCgH0tbqCoEq8IifH4MBRf9L147BofY_RDacJBM-NaFqGRcRmzUplrMWKsfnns1BOULt2gQYVsnMoHEDQv4hGSLxv44SVwuU5w_4B-Ih9ZrqbwavcrECnsiJI/s200/IMG_3839.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665016523474620946" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjyT9d4PF0mXQ_s33PkYoPUb9yXZMZkUMfq341hlS3_kRoDZRrzhZHrhzEqKV6XXLlhzxwMIAbaXurxOtg87d-7t-ipS3jouPXw-OKoE4TIS9kamKiw5fO4gBk-Clv1vo-WITuBZD-XY/s1600/IMG_3840.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwjyT9d4PF0mXQ_s33PkYoPUb9yXZMZkUMfq341hlS3_kRoDZRrzhZHrhzEqKV6XXLlhzxwMIAbaXurxOtg87d-7t-ipS3jouPXw-OKoE4TIS9kamKiw5fO4gBk-Clv1vo-WITuBZD-XY/s200/IMG_3840.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665016522361958834" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>8. Ask yourself "Why am I doing the Great Amazon River Raft race again?" BEFORE you go. </div><div><br /></div><div>9. Decorate.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrOWUn5yTZjFYZm-jsVi29DqJgYnW2_GgMcRj6kaLS5pa_QYFOgTTp6dZW7JpjeaqLEbiY-YywBwzp6iTSn0r96v-E4WX5vk1lpmJ5xYEiYpzlD3ZhyphenhyphenM9dTUZQzkKtbxnv_X0Gn6e6KY/s1600/IMG_3834.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivrOWUn5yTZjFYZm-jsVi29DqJgYnW2_GgMcRj6kaLS5pa_QYFOgTTp6dZW7JpjeaqLEbiY-YywBwzp6iTSn0r96v-E4WX5vk1lpmJ5xYEiYpzlD3ZhyphenhyphenM9dTUZQzkKtbxnv_X0Gn6e6KY/s200/IMG_3834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665016526404460450" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>10. Appreciate being close to the mail box. Packages and letters and fun things... candy corn, cards from 1998, etc. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2Y2tYoKOmUcYUI47vm6hjXeJ06YzzFLC2P2nV9W8iHw-0xhwjYf-0528lZNyB-g7mg77cVIe0o6T-jo73K-3EIuBRwfDBh1YI1HnvDbnvpppSTVJxQF8TlNSVz0QiqT1cjaNefm8d0I/s1600/IMG_0212.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2Y2tYoKOmUcYUI47vm6hjXeJ06YzzFLC2P2nV9W8iHw-0xhwjYf-0528lZNyB-g7mg77cVIe0o6T-jo73K-3EIuBRwfDBh1YI1HnvDbnvpppSTVJxQF8TlNSVz0QiqT1cjaNefm8d0I/s200/IMG_0212.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665020115921263682" style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>11. All birthdays should be celebrated by eating cuy. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nvWvx_k16cfD-ZRvADrssJtDWygORdClEIwHqArq8yruam9_L3y1chFZHlLqOLp9T9hfOCdbFa5JR6H6p7y1IrU5CBUGREDVDY4tWhFnd8rEYcG7SseDsrCHofGxSjFmuxM5T20gp2M/s1600/IMG_0019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-nvWvx_k16cfD-ZRvADrssJtDWygORdClEIwHqArq8yruam9_L3y1chFZHlLqOLp9T9hfOCdbFa5JR6H6p7y1IrU5CBUGREDVDY4tWhFnd8rEYcG7SseDsrCHofGxSjFmuxM5T20gp2M/s200/IMG_0019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665020126177049122" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a> </div><div>I made the cake on the left. She only turns 5 once right? :) </div><div><br /></div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBl6aKXx2nVPok7cMHKYN76KsmleFQrl1nWrj3mfa4Ft2N0m4IIbczfpNpJ9k0jyZpdivDtvRTUWsnr5OooVRt7tuV9aJozZtVIIBfmS5F_fWohOSLtlH67E02-UqbtWVrUMphhAumzsM/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBl6aKXx2nVPok7cMHKYN76KsmleFQrl1nWrj3mfa4Ft2N0m4IIbczfpNpJ9k0jyZpdivDtvRTUWsnr5OooVRt7tuV9aJozZtVIIBfmS5F_fWohOSLtlH67E02-UqbtWVrUMphhAumzsM/s200/IMG_0207.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665020110240140050" style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px; " /></a></div><div>I spend my evenings skyping Matwee. :) </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBl6aKXx2nVPok7cMHKYN76KsmleFQrl1nWrj3mfa4Ft2N0m4IIbczfpNpJ9k0jyZpdivDtvRTUWsnr5OooVRt7tuV9aJozZtVIIBfmS5F_fWohOSLtlH67E02-UqbtWVrUMphhAumzsM/s1600/IMG_0207.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a>There you have it! Just some things I felt the need to mention. Stay classy, San Diego. Thanks for stopping by.</div><div><br /></div><div>ABRAZOS,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div></div></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-30956077470168086932011-06-05T09:08:00.000-07:002011-06-05T09:51:40.077-07:00Ch- ch- ch- ch- Changin'<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlOSaLI7_pYso6Ewhr-GKl6tz2JqSScRO7X0BjVrZbEYsxFMQDSqa0cT98yZiheWLodLVTNWWVTUWvWqyq_aAVZ6-HIFwLF9pAc1Wd5OvVyL7PxL8avxMHgO7e0pkn4QfiDFfOyAAZ6Rg/s1600/IMG_3404.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 112px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlOSaLI7_pYso6Ewhr-GKl6tz2JqSScRO7X0BjVrZbEYsxFMQDSqa0cT98yZiheWLodLVTNWWVTUWvWqyq_aAVZ6-HIFwLF9pAc1Wd5OvVyL7PxL8avxMHgO7e0pkn4QfiDFfOyAAZ6Rg/s200/IMG_3404.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614776059227255490" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMwyTjMyRF1vH7tmcWWddADA40iu4Y6bBBSv_dLYzD3ueyjkAehE8KA8yRys1uD96aoAtZzcWGweQ8NB6bIAkI9TaUMS6vIIzbWnMSYBBu9QADU10KCd0uoY-UiAgkZo07FAAN7u7SpA/s1600/IMG_3393.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMwyTjMyRF1vH7tmcWWddADA40iu4Y6bBBSv_dLYzD3ueyjkAehE8KA8yRys1uD96aoAtZzcWGweQ8NB6bIAkI9TaUMS6vIIzbWnMSYBBu9QADU10KCd0uoY-UiAgkZo07FAAN7u7SpA/s200/IMG_3393.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614776045184572914" /></a><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHMwyTjMyRF1vH7tmcWWddADA40iu4Y6bBBSv_dLYzD3ueyjkAehE8KA8yRys1uD96aoAtZzcWGweQ8NB6bIAkI9TaUMS6vIIzbWnMSYBBu9QADU10KCd0uoY-UiAgkZo07FAAN7u7SpA/s1600/IMG_3393.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DgJeHtwaCYNYa_FzR0MaEGVpUmmybGe2g-PDvhle7l0kbnSWi42b8_6kEvEurYGU1JXdmECVaF2jJXzVHft0Rk5FrVHtqL5FY2G3s_GzYrkcNbd6G22eeUkYzg_WPJfP3jvlaGHm6Zg/s1600/IMG_3368.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_DgJeHtwaCYNYa_FzR0MaEGVpUmmybGe2g-PDvhle7l0kbnSWi42b8_6kEvEurYGU1JXdmECVaF2jJXzVHft0Rk5FrVHtqL5FY2G3s_GzYrkcNbd6G22eeUkYzg_WPJfP3jvlaGHm6Zg/s200/IMG_3368.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614776034377026946" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacU2YiNFJ6hfKx_e1yWz9JlcQR_mWvPgmHUhfrS6iBK18mTR3YgB-T5i41lmEbh5SnEMBGyS1uOWj8P8vEZXFAGgKKAe3OxHAjpbc-p3et3DTQKTtb1KJSyvJ_xUUNlofZO8tfB61tVg/s1600/IMG_5673.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgacU2YiNFJ6hfKx_e1yWz9JlcQR_mWvPgmHUhfrS6iBK18mTR3YgB-T5i41lmEbh5SnEMBGyS1uOWj8P8vEZXFAGgKKAe3OxHAjpbc-p3et3DTQKTtb1KJSyvJ_xUUNlofZO8tfB61tVg/s200/IMG_5673.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614776031552437794" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4Bq96iAqAr6vsjXhsLMWBcnJd8Sy0h5G5HGaBmAJ4WZeBPCSn_ygo2eV40hK0u_KRAst8PJaOoi8lgalVtEkZBGzEkOupmxc3RtVpJuTHywVNHodvFlKVJ4j2ELFkyXBwhBGTOV-Trw/s1600/IMG_5882.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4Bq96iAqAr6vsjXhsLMWBcnJd8Sy0h5G5HGaBmAJ4WZeBPCSn_ygo2eV40hK0u_KRAst8PJaOoi8lgalVtEkZBGzEkOupmxc3RtVpJuTHywVNHodvFlKVJ4j2ELFkyXBwhBGTOV-Trw/s200/IMG_5882.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5614776025924113154" /></a><br />Hola a todos!<div> Apparently there is truth in the correlation between less blogs and the closer a peacecordian is to their two year mark. So, sorry about that. Here's an update!</div><div> </div><div> First off, just recently I got the wonderful news that I get to stay one more year as PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader) here in Huaraz! I'm soooo excited and feel this is definitely where I need to be in the next coming year. I'll get to support my fellow Ancash volunteers and still work in youth development, but just now in the capitol city. Sigh. Best news. EVER :) </div><div><br /></div><div> So I now have just two months left working and living in Shilla... I've got Amigos y Libros classes to wrap up, a presentation and report to do, some med checks, the town party at the end of this month, and many many despedidas to attend to. It'll be hard to move but it's a good step to be going to Huaraz.. I'll still get to see my host familia on occasion while changing up my work a bit. Change is good. I have to keep reminding myself of that.</div><div> </div><div> Just last night Julie and Caitlin left back to the states after their two week Peruvian adventure (and it was DEFINITELY an adventure). Having them here in the Callejon de Huaylas this past week was soooo fun and refreshing. They even lived in Shilla for half the week! Brave souls. Two glacier lake hikes, 10 classes, one peruvian meeting, chifa and California Cafe meals later they are on their way back home. I've been so lucky that during these past two years I have had so many visitors who want to see what I'm doing here and be a part of it. Ahora, solo falta Bri! :) I'll see Julie, Caitlin and the rest of the six pack in August on my month leave. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hokay! That is all for now! Cuidanse! I'll be back in Cali for a bit soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>Chao!</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div> </div></div></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-13336335460816936572011-04-02T12:47:00.001-07:002011-04-02T13:04:21.729-07:00An EllipsisHola to everyone! <div>Well... What to write about? It seems the number one thing on my mind these days is that Peru 13 Peacecordians have 5 months left and counting. And this week I kept thinking to myself... What did I do everyday, every minute, every second here in this little mountain town to get me to this point? How can you go one minute mentally prepared for a long haul and the next feel as if you'd like to reign it all in a little bit... slow things down. Even if I get to stay in this country longer than just August, this two year journey is still coming to an end and you can't help but reflect and wonder what has changed in you, what you've come to realize, what's matured. <div><br /></div><div>Or at least you hope all those things have happened. :) I was different when I first stepped on the bus at 2:00 a.m. to go to my new home of Chosica, Lima. But those changes would have occurred no matter where I was in the world. Things happen in your 20s. You don't have to go to a developing country and live in a Quechua speaking town for two years to start coming into your own, for your frontal lobe to solidify, to hold fast to strong opinions, to love, to lose, to fight for injustices, realize what you're good at (and what you frankly suck at) and come to terms with hard realities that before once felt to be the stuff that adults played with. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now what to do with all that. Is that the task of the 30s? To take it and run with it? No se. I guess with any luck I'll find out. I'm not done exploring, groping with new languages or living with new people. I hope that my older, more professional self will always keep these two years in mind and that my time as a peruvian peacecordian will affect what I do para siempre. </div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-77616399920129335902011-03-16T16:50:00.000-07:002011-03-16T17:09:34.862-07:00A New School YearHola a todos!<div><br /> Sooooo.... it's March and that means it's the start of the school year once again in good ol' Shilla. And what that means is that the teachers take awhile to get their stuff together... meaning.. that after 2 weeks after the technical first dia of school all the teachers are still not showing up, class time is kind of a joke and I still haven't entered the aula yet (although I will next week.. whew!). So, March tends to be a time of "What am I doing here? Should I really be watching 5 hours of The Wire every day?" Some days in March are pretty depressing for me. After vacaciones when things were so go go go and productive it's sort of a let down to have poco to do and just be in the planning stages of things. I guess it's sort of like an accountant after April 17th. </div><div><br /></div><div> But hoy was mejor. And it started out with a hummingbird no mas. A huge BLACK hummingbird. I took it as a good sign and went to being productive the whole dia. The best thing to happen was the trip to a caserio (tiny part of the district of Shilla that you walk uphill to) called Llipta to check out the elementary school there. There are only four teachers and about 60 students (including the preschool)... it is so quaint and beautiful and since no volunteer has ever worked there before they seem very interested and excited to work with me on some small projects to help out with mainly sex ed for the older students, some self esteem booster activities, etc. etc. I am purdy excited to start fresh a bit. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's weird to think that Peru 13 only has 6 months left! What is happening?? That can't be right! We are still the newbies I swear. So far the realization is hitting a lot stronger than even when I graduated from college. What am I going to do with my life? Where to next? So many big scary questions. A ver. I wish Peace Corps lasted 10 years. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>Anywho. I hope things back in the casa are all good. I hope to write in a couple weeks to give more updates on vida. Cuidense!</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos fuertes,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-83244635668746570262011-02-13T13:06:00.001-08:002011-02-13T13:16:13.412-08:00CuyLet it be known to all. I just witnessed a guinea pig birth. Welcome, Larry, Hairy and Mo.<br /><br />abrazos<br />emEm Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-72228761425291007152011-02-13T13:06:00.000-08:002011-02-13T13:16:08.498-08:00CuyLet it be known to all. I just witnessed a guinea pig birth. Welcome, Larry, Hairy and Mo.<br /><br />abrazos<br />emEm Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-30537443756553084272011-02-11T07:40:00.000-08:002011-02-11T07:50:26.569-08:00Language AcquisitionIt's like, seeing the same sunlight come into my window every morning, but for the first time really looking at it. Or seeing numbers and symbols all jumbled together on a piece of paper one day, and the next being able to work with them, work answers out of them, master their meaning. I have heard Quechua every day for a year and a half now, and though it comes in leaps and bounds... this past week (after Quechua classes) I am now able to listen to my host mom while she's chatting away with Florcita on the phone and actually not hear a mumbling of vowels and deep throated German sounding k's... but understand what those sounds MEAN. It's a powerful knowledge, language. Makes you feel as if you can conquer something. Changes your perspective drastically. I still am at the "grasping" stage of this native language (I'm not fluent by any means... whatever fluent is anyways) and what I mean by grasping is, you know... you're in spanish class in ninth grade and the teacher tells you to put an 'o' at the end of the verb to make it first person present tense and you have to think about it really hard and look at the board.. "Crap. how do you say "have"? oh yeah. Tener.. Crap. I can't say Teno.. it's irregular.. what is it again? Oh right. Tengo." You know. That stage of the language learning. That's where I am when it comes to speaking Quechua. But listening... I can make out a majority of the conversations ahora. Which is exciting and.... well... Now I just need to pay attention. :)<div><br /></div><div>Besos y Abrazos</div><div>Em</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-49827081256018229802011-02-04T05:23:00.000-08:002011-02-04T05:39:00.050-08:00Ya vengoMerry Christmas! Happy New Years 2011! Happy Sarah's and Courtney's Birthdays! Groundhog Day is in there too I believe. :) <div><br /></div><div>Umm... so. With that said. When I started this blog back in the day and I wrote my little profile on the right hand side that says Youth Development Volunteer in Peru from 2009 til 2011. I didn't think that that number.. 2011.. would come up on me so soon. Too soon! Aack! So soon in fact that I will be keeping you posted on my continuing foreign plans. Cuz there will be. </div><div><br /></div><div>Right now it's summer here (which means... just no school... the weather is rainy... yay!). So I'm teaching some vacaciones utiles classes for the kiddos (communication, p.e., art and wow. Who'd a thunk it? Math!). Ok ok. So I am not actually teaching math. I scouted and found some teen helpers who actually teach it. I'm just the facilitator man. This past week we did some paper mache.. oh yeah. Very messy. But what I'm currently really excited about is Club de Mujeres Poderosas (powerful women), in which 17 teen girls and I meet up 3 times a week and tackle different themes from sexual health to how to start a little successful business (Peace Corps gives me materials! soo.. although I know practically nothing about business.. I can still teach it :) to meeting professional women and talking about future goals. Last week we got to talk to girls from Oxnard City Corps on skype! It was pretty exciting from where I was standing. To get the two groups I've been working with the last 3 years together. No importa las fronteras. We have only 3 more weeks to go, but maybe they'll want to get together occasionally during the school year too. A ver.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are exciting things on the horizon (Peace Corps 50th anniversary, Ancash Prom, starting up the school year, Rotary Club's participation in a project in Shilla... the whole familia's visit in April...) that I'm pretty thankful for. Right now I'm off to Quechua classes. Shumaq warmi to all of you. Let's see if that grammar finally stays in my cerebro this time around. </div><div><br /></div><div>Recent peruvian fotos will be posted on my facebook later today... Chao for now!</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos long lost but FUERTES,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-85961733874077297212010-12-04T09:56:00.000-08:002010-12-04T10:27:07.607-08:00It's like a Video Game!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSutzea-XCAeCE8JIl9Xzf4cnVJLUunjruJMYlFOcIh6B81tzkZSqDa2eGtmjGiDDcKMT_I37j0qN1C5OrHdZe3Q1joBh52mmcih3-l0HP5Dn-i6IrBCiZlWdyy54cj0D5Ahj3s2TRFk/s1600/IMG_2189.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSutzea-XCAeCE8JIl9Xzf4cnVJLUunjruJMYlFOcIh6B81tzkZSqDa2eGtmjGiDDcKMT_I37j0qN1C5OrHdZe3Q1joBh52mmcih3-l0HP5Dn-i6IrBCiZlWdyy54cj0D5Ahj3s2TRFk/s200/IMG_2189.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546895140813523858" /></a> Jumping off the Dunes!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH5xxCDi5X0_5i029xcbsyo8-38XMVtK00oxlagEAwzarORikvTETtmD9v5Xd-5M9CAw1w_DFBOrp68wWZjASTf-sYlLkmqZYzf9GgfvOu4YXvYtnf50JBhVrgeUvN6Dfl1QRFZcC7Qk/s1600/IMG_2245.JPG"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisH5xxCDi5X0_5i029xcbsyo8-38XMVtK00oxlagEAwzarORikvTETtmD9v5Xd-5M9CAw1w_DFBOrp68wWZjASTf-sYlLkmqZYzf9GgfvOu4YXvYtnf50JBhVrgeUvN6Dfl1QRFZcC7Qk/s200/IMG_2245.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546894248200753090" /></a> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ur_W-Ot7T7zV7TaHYOTf8BDNFyxanOxDHLjuavWoFTGxD8WD38zsOsT3qskthPbJq9sopXpBb6K2Dg7zF4jEv1R-jtYG6h_QCOCFpoBz1K51u4YbOUbSPhFGu44I9aXog1qfXbmh_zk/s1600/IMG_2235.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Ur_W-Ot7T7zV7TaHYOTf8BDNFyxanOxDHLjuavWoFTGxD8WD38zsOsT3qskthPbJq9sopXpBb6K2Dg7zF4jEv1R-jtYG6h_QCOCFpoBz1K51u4YbOUbSPhFGu44I9aXog1qfXbmh_zk/s200/IMG_2235.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546894246812841586" /></a> Anacapa Island. Whops. I mean Parracas.<br /><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLRR8dygFzJGZZlfYGq56ErDqqskrfrisLKJOZ5w044afpXEB5FwB6F8Oc9l0n4e7MeDw8OA2SlTyggYEYOlKCrb8cXaIZNPrsfFMY3ch8huotNK7j83JUP4KKyvtwymiwkOk8eO90f8/s1600/IMG_2227.JPG"> </a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLRR8dygFzJGZZlfYGq56ErDqqskrfrisLKJOZ5w044afpXEB5FwB6F8Oc9l0n4e7MeDw8OA2SlTyggYEYOlKCrb8cXaIZNPrsfFMY3ch8huotNK7j83JUP4KKyvtwymiwkOk8eO90f8/s1600/IMG_2227.JPG"> </a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLRR8dygFzJGZZlfYGq56ErDqqskrfrisLKJOZ5w044afpXEB5FwB6F8Oc9l0n4e7MeDw8OA2SlTyggYEYOlKCrb8cXaIZNPrsfFMY3ch8huotNK7j83JUP4KKyvtwymiwkOk8eO90f8/s1600/IMG_2227.JPG"> </a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLRR8dygFzJGZZlfYGq56ErDqqskrfrisLKJOZ5w044afpXEB5FwB6F8Oc9l0n4e7MeDw8OA2SlTyggYEYOlKCrb8cXaIZNPrsfFMY3ch8huotNK7j83JUP4KKyvtwymiwkOk8eO90f8/s1600/IMG_2227.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLRR8dygFzJGZZlfYGq56ErDqqskrfrisLKJOZ5w044afpXEB5FwB6F8Oc9l0n4e7MeDw8OA2SlTyggYEYOlKCrb8cXaIZNPrsfFMY3ch8huotNK7j83JUP4KKyvtwymiwkOk8eO90f8/s200/IMG_2227.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546894238747428962" /></a><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl2qz8ZvaPv-51zbPhcs9jE7Xq0VXanxmmj40g7-iE445Z9Lnm5fzs5wXWD0L6UShkR5H8BpGZq82-Gq_rH0DZEEAckK_gWJ9lDPzbMA4OIE_OafT5RJBOrH8cirOkmmlSKd984-t9IA/s1600/IMG_2171.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhl2qz8ZvaPv-51zbPhcs9jE7Xq0VXanxmmj40g7-iE445Z9Lnm5fzs5wXWD0L6UShkR5H8BpGZq82-Gq_rH0DZEEAckK_gWJ9lDPzbMA4OIE_OafT5RJBOrH8cirOkmmlSKd984-t9IA/s200/IMG_2171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546894223731175682" /></a> Our Sand Buggie! And Colleen!</div><div><br /></div><div><br />Alrighty then. It's so odd being a "senior". Peru 13 (my group) is on the downward slope of the Peacecordian two year experience. And yes. We have technically until August of next year... but suddenly that doesn't feel like enough time anymore! As if two years isn't nearly enough. It's nearing the end of the school year here ademas, meaning things are slowing down a bit (or will for sure in two weeks). And that means a trip back to Ventura is very near... So basically I have many feelings going on right now. <div><br /></div><div>For Thanksgiving, us 13 Ancash chicas decided to head south for the three day vacation and go to Ica, Peru (the coastal department south of Lima) to explore the beaches and wine country. The trip started and ended on very awesome notes. The first being sandboarding. Yup. A lot like snow boarding but on sand dunes. The best part of the sand dunes would have to be the dune buggies of course. SO fun. As Christie so pointed it out "It's like a video game!! MARIO KART!!" I think that's definitely a fitting description. And I think I will always remember the hilarity that was Colleen and I being scared to sled down those sand hills (picture a lot of screaming and sand in the face and mucho profanity). The other highlight of the trip would have to be the last day where we visited a fellow Peru 13ers site, to check out the local wines, piscos and white water rafting. Chevere. The season for the river was low season so the rapids were only class 2 at most, but that didn't stop me from falling out once. And it was an absolutely beautiful river.. the contrast of the dusty rock hills jutting up in the background with the oasis of green around the river... bonito. Afterwards we happened upon a resort ish place that allowed us many a sampling of different kinds of piscos, a chance to swim in the river, chat, swim in the pool... we didn't want to get back on a bus. They were so friendly and it felt like we stumbled upon a little slice of heaven. Eventually we did get back on the bus. And on that bus we were accompanied by 35 teenage Lima boys who belong to a Soccer Club. We instantly became celebrities. Our seats happened to be in the very back and EVERY single one of the boys came and circled us. "Where are you from?" "Do you like Michael Jackson?" "You speak Quechua?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" etc. etc. We were very tired and Colleen had to hold up most of the conversation with them for a good two hours. The best part was when I got to sing Atrevete te te by Calle 13 with them. ahhhh.... knowing that song by heart finally paid off! </div><div><br /></div><div>Currently back in Anca$h... this past week I got to help out at the Peru 15 IST (some in service training).... I even had to pretend I was a business volunteer for awhile. 8 gringos visited me in Shilla and got to see Amigos y Libros in action which was awesome. In site I have been teaching a lot about AIDS and sex ed in general (seeing as Dec. 1st was World AIDS day) as well as wrapping up my primaria school classes: English, Self Esteem and Leadership... Now I'll be planning for the vacation classes I'd love to do during January and February, touching up my world map, making a lot of bracelets and hopefully accomplishing some lake hikes when it's not too rainy. </div><div><br /></div><div>I can't WAIT to see people (and Ben and Reggie) for the holidays.... two weeks and counting! </div></div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-38585021519291481342010-11-17T12:52:00.000-08:002010-11-17T13:02:44.480-08:00AmURicaSo, I suppose I need to update this thing! I just got back from the U.S. of A.... Colorado to be exact. Pagosa Springs to be even MORE exact. For my dear amiga Jenna's wedding which was heart warming, fun, freezing (that true mountain air), amazing, dance- y, full of universidad friends and just a wonderful two days really. Yup. Two day trip to the states, no biggie. Actually. I'm pretty glad that it worked out that way (except for Mr. I'm going to give you air sickness so bad you'll wish you never came to Colorado prop plane from Pagosa to Denver) because it made me feel as if Peru is so close to home. It's only FOU (ugh) flights and a day bus away. But seriously, it's pretty chevere that one day I can be with people who speak my language in a place where everything just seems bigger (including airports, food, and beds) and the next I will be among colorful shorter women talking away in Quechua. I was probably annoying with all the references I made to this South American country though. In order to stop myself I started referencing Peru as the "P word" and if you didn't know this.. there are a lot of inappropriate words that could potentially start with P, so that was fun. <div><br /></div><div>In the Lima airport about to embark the plane I must admit that I had a little panic attack. What will I do when I eventually have to leave this place? I can't just do that. Where am I supposed to be? I have to be with Itzel! With Gladys! With my host mom and Florcita! Can I really just stay and live down here in Peru? No. Well. Then. WHAT?! But then I just got on the plane and coming back so quickly was good. Now I'm ready to go back home for Christmas minus all that little panic attack stuff. </div><div><br /></div><div>So. In short. It was awesome and I'm excited to go back to my actual casa in a month and I wish Jenna and Brian all the best!!! </div><div><br /></div><div>Brought to you by the Letter P and the Number 4.</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos Fuertes,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-7722694051201697302010-10-23T05:14:00.000-07:002010-10-23T05:34:50.052-07:00Cortando PastoSo. There are times when I am down (not at this exact moment... but there are times). Wondering what I'm doing in life... not so much right now but in a year or two or ten from now. Where I wonder if I'm making good decisions or doing the right things. Sometimes I even feel like I have a dissonance inside of me - a disconnect - and it makes me wonder who I really am. Peruvian Peacecordian, what's that, really? <div><br /></div><div>Usually when I'm in this state in site all I want to do is ball up in my room but I usually end up forcing myself outside because that's where I slowly feel better (even if not a single one of my self directed questions is actually answered). I've taken up going to cut grass for the cuyes (guinea pigs) with my madre lately in the evenings. </div><div><br /></div><div>It's a 10 minute walk through grass and chacras (fields), the trail made by many human feet who take the trail up the hill to do their farming and grazing of animales cada dia. We take our apaches with us (the colorful blankets women here use for warmth, for bags, as protection to sit on, to carry grass, etc.) and my host mom brings along the circular scythe and we go up to cortar the pasto. This little ritual, even though I am slow at actually cutting the grass and most of the time just end up helping carrying it back down the hill, more than anything else... calms me. I know that for my family it's just another day chore, but for me with the views and the tranquility - the soft steady sound of blade on grass, the bright blue pollera (skirt) of my mama, the gray clouds bursting into light with the sinking of the sun over the cordillera negra - it's a healing task. It's the best thing about where I live, the hills and the very nature around you just make everything that much better. It's way better than yoga. jeje</div><div><br /></div><div>So there's an October reflection. Mas on the agenda would have to be the Feria de Universidades that we're putting on in Shilla on Wednesday for all the secundary kids.... Amigos y Libros is still goin' strong, Halloween is just around the rincon, and I'm a goin' to Colorado really soon! :) From mountains to mountains. </div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos y pasto para todos,</div><div>Emily</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-39152252771769750422010-09-28T07:57:00.001-07:002010-09-28T08:47:30.062-07:00My Name is the Amazon River. And I'm BIG and AMAZING.Hola a todos! <div><br /></div><div>I just got back from the selva (the jungle.... the Amazon to be exact) and racing 180 kilometers (don't ask me to convert that) for three days down the Amazon river in a raft that I built with three fellow peacecordian chicas from Ancash (ANCASH LADIES DO IT BETTER!) There are so many stories, funny moments, desperate moments, people met, that I don't even know where to begin. I guess I will start with what hit me first. </div><div><br /></div><div>The HEAT. Calor to the extreme. I mean, I realized going into this that I would be dealing with a rain forest.. a jungle... and that means humidity and omnipresent sun... but I definitely didn't realize HOW much that would affect me until I got there. The heat consumes you and there is no escape. Your pores feel as if they are pouring out sweat like sap seeps from the bark of gum trees. Sweat takes the form of tears... I drink so much water and it all would come pouring out of me. Under the cover of the Amazonian rainforest and its myriad of trees and plants was where the heat licked your body the most. We went on a trek the day before the raft race which included hacking thru the Amazon with a machete and looking for monkeys, birds, weird bugs and spiders and that's where I felt I was being cooked the most. And unlike the cold, where you can put layers and layers of clothes, mittens, wool socks, find some good blankets, make a fire and drink cocoa... there is nothing you can do besides melt in the humidity in the jungle. It made me appreciate my mountains that much more. </div><div><br /></div><div>On that day trek we got to take a 2 hour boat ride as well, which means we visited some local villages (how crazy and awesome would it be to be stationed out there where you commuted with a little boat?), held a baby sloth, and saw gray and PINK dolphins! Then we were off on the great (gret.. hehe Colleen) journey down the Amazon River for three days!</div><div><br /></div><div>The first day is meeting the other 47 teams... getting on a bus and going from Iquitos to Nauta. Once in Nauta we procured much needed supplies (some machetes, rope, a hammer, two young boys who know how to make a raft...) and then crossed the river to start building our home for three days. :) Naturally, us peacecordians had no clue where to start. Every team was given 8 balsa logs and three smaller strips of wood and 30 meters of rope and some nails. We then had from 3 p.m. till the next day to construct the thing. With the help of the boys and a chainsaw we macheted and constructed a ghetto looking thing before sunset. We had no idea if it would hold up on us. But we were content with having finished before any other team did (actually I was worried that we hadn't spent enough time on the thing.. thinking it would surely come apart by day 3)... and it floated! That's a good sign.</div><div><br /></div><div>The entire thing was a camping trip. The people who organize this Longest Raft Race in the World are VERY well organized, the food is good, the staff friendly.. they gave us little mattress things every night to sleep on (nobody needs a sleeping bag... it's too hot) and two of the three nights we slept in schools! :) There were bugs but not nearly as many as I though there would be and actually I came away pretty much unscathed except for 10 blisters from rowing (having done crew in college did come in handy!), some bad sun burns on the ankles, and ten cold sores on the lips (heat induced I'm sure). And you know what? We did it! Us four girls came about in the middle of the pack every day and our ghetto boat was the little raft that could! We even had the clunky heavy oars and the shoulders and back were definitely sore for a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>For me, the best parts of the experience would have to be my team Ancash Ladies Do it Better (we were constantly singing on the top of our lungs... RESPECT... I'm on a BOAT.... build me up Buttercup... Bohemian Rhapsody... the Spice Girls.. as well as the "gotta along without you before I met you" harmonizing jingle... just to name a few of the tunes), getting into fast currents (and when I say fast currents I mean faster than when we were basically moving nowhere when we felt like we were sitting in a lake), and jumping into the river whenever we felt like it. Awww... that water felt so good. I mean. It was dirty. But it FELT so good. Other highlights would have to include the finishes each day (except for the LAST day when the last part we had to row UP current for fifteen minutes)... the first two days endings were happy because the local kids were swimming with us helping push our boats into shore, everybody cheers, and you just feel so STRONG for doing it and eating oreos and other goodies when we got tired. Also, the other rafters on the river with us were amazing and fun... we spent most of our river time with not our fellow peacecordian boats, but some men from France who were hilarious and some Limenos who pirated our ship. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>The Amazon River is SO big... and wide... and we had to cross it a BILLION times. Well, it felt like it. :) It was amazing and I'll never feel as badass as I did when I was doing it... until next year of course!</div><div><br /></div><div>So long Amazon! Hasta la proxima</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos Fuertes,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /> </div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-27203446222975644472010-09-15T10:48:00.000-07:002010-09-15T11:18:55.771-07:00Candela, Candado; Tomatoe, TomahtoHola a todos!<div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>As a whole, I feel pretty well integrated in Shilla. It has been over a year.. everybody knows me, the kids yell out my name, I understand more Quechua, and less and less Shillapinos think that I'm Italian and work in the church... there are days I forget that I'm too tall even (until I hit my head on a door whose frame comes up to my shoulders... have I mentioned I live in hobbit land? Ask my dad). </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>But recently, after a bout of feeling too self assured, my host mom and sister informed me that I'm telling too much to the neighbors. Now, I thought I was just being friendly. If I'm walking up the hill and they ask me where I'm coming from I'll freely say "From Huaraz! And this package I'm carrying? My parents sent it to me from the States!" or que ever. At first when my host familia told me that I just need to say hello and go on my way, I thought. huh. NO. I don't see any harm in it and I'm promoting friendship and connection between families. But then I realized if I just keep doing what I want that's not integration at all.... and then it dawned on me. I wash my clothes a lot longer than it takes my 14 year old sister. At meal times, I'm still served first and am encouraged to "descansar" (rest) frequently although my mom and sister are CONSTANTLY moving, cleaning, workin' in the biohuerto, taking the chanchos (pigs) and burro (his name is Ramon) to pasture... I have a completely different role. Since I have to make lesson plans, keep track of assistance, write oficios and solicitudes, etc. I use my computer a lot! And since my mom can't read, when she watches me on this thing, what does she see? What does she think? It probably looks like I'm busy doing a whole lot of nothing. And when I do help in the chacra on occasion, I'm so slow that I'm not even a help! </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Just yesterday on the phone, a fellow Ancashina volunteer and amiga said "we're awkward all the time". And it's so true. Whether it's our gringo accents when we are trying to get the universities to come up and do a University Fair, to planting corn seeds double the time it takes our host moms, we will always be just slightly out of it. And what usually results from that is that we end up thinking that THEY'RE slightly out of it. Vicious circle. </div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>But there is good that comes out of all the awkwardness/never truly fitting in: Funny stories. For instance, just recently I had a spanish language confusion problem (sheesh. You think after 10 years of this language I would be able to manejar it all). I told my host sis Florcita that I needed a key to unlock candela (which I thought meant padlock). </div><div>She was like "Really? There's a candela by that door?" </div><div>Me - "SI Florcita. De verdad!" </div><div>Florcita- looks at me confused </div><div><br /></div><div>Later. I find out that in fact "candela" means fire. Then how the heck do you say padlock?</div><div><br /></div><div>Florcita - Laughing uncontrollably</div><div>Mama - "Candado, Emy. Candado"</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>They still don't let that one go. And I guess it's the laughing and connecting to a joke and the silly things that we do that binds me to them more than anything else. No matter if I'm too tall for the doors. </div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div><div> </div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-12553427946367582212010-09-05T07:03:00.000-07:002010-09-05T07:20:00.603-07:00Lame-aHola a Todos!<div> Just recently I came back from five days in Lima for medical checkups and meetings and the like. Our whole group comes back and we give little presentations about what we've done in our sites... and basically eat really good food and get to hang out between all of our random appointments around Lima. (or Lame - a as some people call it :) During my trip there I took advantage and went to go visit my Itzel (my little host niece who lived with me for a year and then just a month ago her mom and her left to live and work in Lima) because I miss her sooooo much. And though amazing to see her, to sing Happy Talk with her again, to read her books like No David No!, and head butt game :) Gladys and I (her mom) basically were just sad that the visit was so short and that I couldn't take them with me back to beautiful Shilla. It struck me hard when I saw them on a gray cold corner of Lima with their jeans and "modern clothes" when I was so used to running up to them after going to work at the colegio with a background of dirt roads and mountains and adobe houses with their polleras and skirts on, Itzel dirty from playing outdoors all day. And Itzel had never seen me in Lima. At first I think she thought I was a different person.</div><div><br /></div><div> I know I know I know. I'm selfish for wanting them back. Gladys left to go earn some money (which is nearly impossible to find in Ancash because of her lack of education and her young 4 year old daughter to take care of... in Shilla my family lives off the meager selling of products like corn and potatoes... and the help of some NGOs... it doesn't bring in much and in Shilla, to just sustain and live, you don't need much) and she's looking for something more... her boyfriend's studying in Lima, etc. etc. She's making a better life for herself. I realize this in my rational head and support her. But they are not happy away from my host madre, away in a world so different than the mountains of Ancash. I imagine there is more of a shock between any campo place in Peru and Lima than for me to go from Peru to the U.S. It's Lima vs. the rest of Peru and Lima's winning. It's a city full of souls working, studying, waiting for their chance. Save money. Make a better life. Normally with the idea that they'll return to where they are originally from. But it usually doesn't happen. They stay in the gray ciudad. They continue working and studying and hardly sleeping for many many years and then become used to it. And I don't want that to happen to Gladys.. Especially not Itzel.</div><div><br /></div><div> So, life can be hard for Peruvians when moving away from home. Moving away means going to the coast because the coast holds more opportunities. To make it that much harder, the families here are a lot more close knit as you can imagine. To leave your parents and siblings is not the same as in the States (although I'm not saying there's some difficulty there for us too, but). It's leaving your vida. It hurts my host madre on a whole new level. She told me she would cry when I leave too. It's going to be painful to leave here.</div><div><br /></div><div> Yeah, so although on a cold note, those are my thoughts. I'm so grateful that I received the host familia that I have. That I had the chance to meet Raul. That I have such great Peacecordian friends who are always there to cheer and support you even after the hour and a half dentist appointment because you had 2 cavities and that was even after the nurse STABBED you (yes.. haha) while drawing blood. Boy I hate medical stuff. So there is always good in my Peruvian life which makes the hard stuff worth persevering through. </div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-85877881006597316952010-08-21T10:39:00.000-07:002010-08-21T11:47:04.168-07:00RefleccionHola a todos!<div> So. Today is Peru 13's official one year anniversary as PC volunteers! Yay. So it's automatically a day of reflection whether you want it or not. :) A year ago was a whirlwind. Leaving Yanacoto, nervous about starting the next two years, leaving friends who I met just three short months before but felt like I'd known them for much longer than that; confusion, excitement, twinge of sadness... gulp. And then now it's been a year. And so many volunteers told our group as we became official volunteers instead of just aspirantes.. the second year will be better and go by faster which means before I know it, it will be August 21, 2011. </div><div><br /></div><div> For the occasion that is today I decided to just make a short list of the most memorable moments of this year for me as a Shillapina and Ancashina... the good and the bad... and probably the ugly:</div><div><br /></div><div>Running from an avalanche and thinking I was going to die for a split second</div><div>Meeting Raul</div><div>Making it to Punto Union with Christie and Oso, after a local boy beat us in sandals to the top</div><div>Birthday in Lima with the Peru 11ers as their In Service Training complete with face in the cake</div><div>Itzel leaving permanently to Lima with her mom :(</div><div>Anca$h Prom</div><div>Learning to rock climb (this would be in the "ugly" category)</div><div>Hanging out with Rachel and Jenna in Maryknoll's Priest home in Puno, playing with a stuffed bear's glasses and not knowing to whom they belonged.... for awhile.</div><div>Making videos on the way up to Machu Picchu with the hermano :)</div><div>Seeing my dad try to get through the front door of my house... and in and and out of combis</div><div>My confusing "candela" for "candado" (my host mom find this infinitely funny)</div><div>Field Trip to Llanganuco with Environmental Club Kids; Yunior made sure I noticed every little plant and animal and insect on our little hike</div><div>The 3 Independent Nights of Illness. I do not need to elaborate. It's in the Ugly category</div><div>Being a ship for Halloween. (Where's my BOOTY, Lisette?)</div><div>A Yanacoto Birthday complete with Lion Cake</div><div>Eating just the cookie dough with Baja in Caraz. Memorable for sure.</div><div>My combi almost being rammed off the road</div><div>Same day as above comment: Hitting the water tube to the school bathroom.... all in order to try and make compost.</div><div>15 hour Epic Hike</div><div>Carnival!</div><div>My first Peruvian wedding</div><div>Hot shower after two weeks.. (yup. I still remember it)</div><div><br /></div><div>And there are many more. Some that I can't or won't even include on such a public space. So I can only imagine the millions of goods, bads, and uglies that will occur over the next year.. which will include maybe even a trip or two back to the States... :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos, </div><div>Em </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-6949093905573357882010-08-07T10:01:00.000-07:002010-08-07T10:08:05.828-07:00Un poco, no masHola a todos!<div> Currently, I'm very contenta because the padres' care package just arrived with clothes for Itzel, Raisin Bran Crunch, stickers galore, cheeze its, a book from Vivian, and more children's books! It just makes me feliz. :) </div><div><br /></div><div> En otras noticias, the 15ers (new peacecordians) are coming this next week to visit their sites, projects continue to keep going during these vacaciones (the first two weeks of Agosto there are no classes aqui), and Wednesday's trip to Llanganuco Lakes with the kids from Club Huascaran went swimmingly! yay. Umm.. things are good, I have deseos to go up into the mountains again soon and see some more Ancash lakes before the rainy season starts again in late September. And besides all that things are just going well. </div><div><br /></div><div>Almost a year in site! I bet this next year will go by just as quickly as the first one and before I know it Christmas and a trip home will be here! </div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos fuertes,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-90837024275276381802010-07-31T08:07:00.000-07:002010-07-31T08:36:09.113-07:00"Emily! Han chocado con el tubo!"<div>Hola a todos! </div><div> So. Last Friday I feel sums up how things tend to go in the work side of my life as a Peacecordian. I had classes about self esteem which went well with the little guys in elementary school, had a successful Amigos y Libros meeting with the teens (they're the ones who will eventually read to the elementary and preschool kids) And everything seemed to be going swimmingly after meetings about our upcoming project against AIDS/HIV and meetings with teachers about finding professionals for a job shadowing project in September... and I was looking forward to digging a hole in the evening to make compost with the Club Huascaran (made of sixth and fifth graders from primaria who are learning about the environment with me). The parents of the kids even showed up early with their tools all ready to go! Yay! I felt. I'm doing things! :) </div><div> <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKTIGs4vMonezXodCF1jUdMs_V7ACVE_gpk66UOauC0CACIRtCJVDkjJyrMokm7hUieIoocsMx8NvTLXkicsg4R9-wxRz-3S4GtL-WB714xlVp3ukQ793-lmzwtPE-6kbGrT6YW0xrJQ/s1600/IMG_1028.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpKTIGs4vMonezXodCF1jUdMs_V7ACVE_gpk66UOauC0CACIRtCJVDkjJyrMokm7hUieIoocsMx8NvTLXkicsg4R9-wxRz-3S4GtL-WB714xlVp3ukQ793-lmzwtPE-6kbGrT6YW0xrJQ/s200/IMG_1028.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500090556166773890" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDahYIpnZK2K1O_fY2dmHZlm0xjQqJvyugEW_2kMfuKFte_73PNh_hJxnNxlStMJEtHyuTz34Wg9igVM3LKqcp1D0EUApwTtGSKimonUw_ZTU2cCz2TvPacFBsvmjExfdtfkhjMfbje4/s1600/IMG_1026.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvDahYIpnZK2K1O_fY2dmHZlm0xjQqJvyugEW_2kMfuKFte_73PNh_hJxnNxlStMJEtHyuTz34Wg9igVM3LKqcp1D0EUApwTtGSKimonUw_ZTU2cCz2TvPacFBsvmjExfdtfkhjMfbje4/s200/IMG_1026.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500090546402939298" /></a></div><div> Amigos y Libros Club: (Notice the books that people have been sending me! :)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And then.. 50 minutes into digging the hole, Samuel comes up to me... "Emily! Han chocado el tubo!" Which means. CRAP. We broke the water tube to the school! Ugh. Here I was riding on this rush of volunteerism and happiness to be with the kids and parents in the school when the tube breaks. I immediately thought "I'm making Shilla regress instead of progress." So I got an impromtu lesson on how to pick out, buy and fix a broken water tube. Fun times. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7FgVvuz-4RLNElfgk-slwE-88DRZ2muhPb33D-O5yKut0WqTiiRaWQQPqVb7gTmlmDNe2H9NXppyQUD5cthkvmcWFT-5ojVLcTAE2QwWBhqe9FX_iKP9i71H013D0Sf5vn5m9cRYb7I/s1600/IMG_0927.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir7FgVvuz-4RLNElfgk-slwE-88DRZ2muhPb33D-O5yKut0WqTiiRaWQQPqVb7gTmlmDNe2H9NXppyQUD5cthkvmcWFT-5ojVLcTAE2QwWBhqe9FX_iKP9i71H013D0Sf5vn5m9cRYb7I/s200/IMG_0927.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500090544009107170" /></a> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrprompOO1MV1juqLXcWqfJZUl6cW3ucNgpEHMZC6fdugWKWL9LVChXZPpG_SZF7g0Xpg9MQLX_qxJEVHIj4u9bbslQmX5wZyQqZAXa8VbeJ7tcoj7LbA5j92v8PYaUDG34fm4P54h0E/s1600/IMG_0923.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrprompOO1MV1juqLXcWqfJZUl6cW3ucNgpEHMZC6fdugWKWL9LVChXZPpG_SZF7g0Xpg9MQLX_qxJEVHIj4u9bbslQmX5wZyQqZAXa8VbeJ7tcoj7LbA5j92v8PYaUDG34fm4P54h0E/s200/IMG_0923.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500090540475695810" /></a><br />The Day of the Tube: parents and kids from Club Huascaran <div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvIkY2VSbCrd6ZDyySdqfXnsvqbKUjB97j6PbnJibZC1IoJAg2X-Y9VHVMXlwLzrvPIC7BmISGLO7-_g-kz71BPksWS842vvmTx4UooJ7tI3a-h5xA4XIfFtuF3acgqy2qf5L4dkXRiU/s1600/IMG_0877.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvIkY2VSbCrd6ZDyySdqfXnsvqbKUjB97j6PbnJibZC1IoJAg2X-Y9VHVMXlwLzrvPIC7BmISGLO7-_g-kz71BPksWS842vvmTx4UooJ7tI3a-h5xA4XIfFtuF3acgqy2qf5L4dkXRiU/s200/IMG_0877.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500090529298923890" /></a> Trash Day with Club Huascaran! This is where Shilla botars their trash we found out after 4 hours of collecting all the trash of the district with Cesar, the municipality driver of the truck in the background. As the kids pointed out it smells a bit... but has great views!<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> I guess why this little story represents my work here is because.. it's all small steps. It's about getting people together and working towards a goal, however small. Although we broke the tube... there will be MANY setbacks. We fixed it and will continue. I will remember this hopefully this upcoming Wednesday when I embark on a day long journey with Club Huascaran to the Llanganuco Lake for a paseo (field trip). Who knows when I'll have to fix a tube again! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-69387580392955500952010-07-19T11:05:00.000-07:002010-07-19T11:13:26.099-07:00Peruvian PerrosHola a todos,<div> There are at least 6 dogs out to get me in the Shilla district. On my daily run anyways... because well, I have few options of routes and the one I have consistently stuck with is using the main dirt carreterra (road) up and then down (it's not too steep and flatter than most other "paths"). But along the way you go by the houses and then the dogs.. ugh the perros. I now have to keep a rock in my hand the entire way, which.. I'm definitely not out of the norm with fellow peacecordians... dogs are mean here. </div><div><br /></div><div> But now I know my route well, which means I know the dogs well. I was bit a couple days ago (not badly mind you.. ) but my guard is always up and I know which ones to walk next to instead of run by, which ones to CHARGE at and pretend to throw the rock at, which ones to just out run, and which ones to yell at the owner to get control of. Sometimes the dogs are a no show and they even have an horario (schedule). If I want to miss the great dane (boy is he huge.. but if you just say "puppy!" in a cute little voice and walk by him he is nicer and starts wagging his tail) then I run in the afternoon/early evening. If I want to miss the horrible puppy from hell with his snarling teeth (he will bite me one day.. I just know it) then I run at 6:00 a.m. It's kinda sad that my running is scheduled by flea ridden creatures. </div><div><br /></div><div> It's almost Fiestas Patrias time here... Peru's Independence Day... we shall see how Ancash parties. I'll probably just go home early. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>abrazos,</div><div>Em</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-19403352693857783422010-07-11T08:55:00.001-07:002010-07-11T09:11:44.089-07:00Llevame mis zanahorizas, mamayHola a todos! I am currently in Carhuaz after waking up at 4: 30 a.m. to go with my host madre to sell corn and carrots at the bi- weekly huge mercado here. We didn't sell all the carrots. But we did sell all the corn. (and by corn I mean the dried cornels of corn). For all those interested in money and numbers out there. We sold a monton of carrots (like.. 15 decent sized carrots) for 50 centimos (roughly 20 cents yo). And for a whole heavy bag of the cornels... 25 soles mas o menos. Which is what? 8 bucks. For awhile I got to sell the carrots which was fun! (more so because everyone is confused.. what? a gringa sells produce?) and I got to say things like "Llevame mis zanahorias, mamay, porfa." in a whiney voice. hehe. <div><br /></div><div> I love market days. LOVE them. Although I usually don't buy anything anyway... and the ropes that hold up the tarps for shade for the vendors come up to my shoulders so therefore I must duck constantly, there's something about the hustle and bustle of it all... and the really cheap veggies that makes my day. If I could add on to my list of Favorite Things in Peru from the other blog a while ago I would add market days and when donkeys in Shilla run down the hills he-hawing and bucking and playing. </div><div><br /></div><div> One thing of the things I do not like, you ask? The drunkeness. The way women must put up with it when their son or father or grandpa come home completely gone (although to be fair.. I have to say that women get drunk here too.. just definitely NOT as often). And how the little three year olds already know how to pretend to be drunk to be funny. Itzel, mi sobrina (my niece.. the love of my life!), has many a time come up to me in a playful mood "Tia Emily! Mira.. estoy borracha!" (Aunt Emily! Look.. I'm drunk!) while pretending to not be stable on her feet and running into the walls. I am lucky to live in a house of all women because whenever I have an encounter with a drunk Peruvian male who is completely out of bounds I get very angry Muy enojada. Not to mention sad. My madre tells me I just need to acostombrarme (get used to it) but we have discussions where I tell her I don't think it's something you should get used to. It's the worst thing, in my opinion, when I have to be around many many drunks at a peruvian party. Parties should be fun. After a year living in this country I think their drinking comes out of a deep sadness. They are drinking to forget... but it only makes them remember. They cry, they grab at people, they ramble on and on about the travesties that have happened. It's their outlet... but there's gotta be a better one, no? Their lives are hard but I think alcohol just makes them harder. </div><div><br /></div><div> Those are my pensamientos del dia. I've been writing a lot lately which has been very helpful for me at this one year mark. I'm excited to go to Lima in a couple of days to see new volunteers and to continue my project Amigos y Libros on Friday (yay!) where high schoolers read to elementary and kindergarten students. (by the way.. I need more books for kids.. low reading level.. in spanish!) </div><div><br /></div><div> If I were in the States right now I'd say Happy Birthday to Aaron Smith and go get a free slurpee at 7/11. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos y besos,</div><div>Em</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-750926234742430132010-07-08T13:39:00.000-07:002010-07-08T13:42:40.927-07:00Lil' update, no masHola a todos!<div> Soo... Happy Birthday United States.. I am giving classes in America's honor to the secondaria kids these next two weeks... talking about what we eat, how we celebrate, and country/western music line dancing lessons... haha. American culture. Maybe I'm not even the one who should be giving this class. Lately I've been feeling that I've been away for so long that I don't even remember! </div><div><br /></div><div>Next week I go to Lima for a couple days to help train the new Peru 15ers! yay! Locura I tell you. I sort of pictured myself last year as a trainER instead of a trainEE but not that it's actually here it just feels odd. Really? A year? Ya? Ok. </div><div><br /></div><div>So this is just a little blog to say I'm alive and well and kicking... literally kicking dogs away from me lately... and work is definitely underway although classes always get canceled left and right.. for sports, for holidays, for teachers just wanting days off. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll write soon. Mas. Te lo juro.</div><div><br /></div><div>abrazos fuertisimos,</div><div>em</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-3747729159141426212010-06-25T15:03:00.000-07:002010-06-25T15:32:33.133-07:00Sheep Intestine for BreakfastHola a todos!<div> Somewhere between the drunken debauchery that is Shilla during the biggest party of the year (the 24th of June.. but don't let that fool you.. it's basically an entire week of fiesta as all peacecordians can tell you... Shilla is not unique in that way) and the sheep intestine I was given for breakfast the next morning, I got my first real bout of homesickness. Just pure wanna- live- in- my- own- country- where- I -know- how- things- work and I won't have to eat this or get trapped by extremely drunk men who think it's totally fine to make disgusting gestures and remarks about the "gringa". As Christie and I would say... I was DONE! :) </div><div><br /></div><div> That and I've been having dream after dream about the United States of A lately. Maybe it's because it seems all peacecordians lately are going home for a visit. Or I miss Snapper Jack's. Or Reggie. Or familia. No se. Portland. I had a dream about Portland last night. So anywho. I'm going to be heading off to the annual Peace Corps marathon next weekend for the fourth of July. Some good solid peacecordian time. And try to keep the work going in site (which is going by the way! yay!) </div><div><br /></div><div>That is the update. Todo esta bien! I heard the one year mark sometimes makes you think about home demasiado. Hasta la proxima</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-65535959561253192242010-06-20T09:12:00.000-07:002010-06-20T10:01:33.286-07:00These are a few of my favorite things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwxCF0WOgb3adQKpi-3HtnfVIp8zJjyKANMMt3f2pKxK7DNIH_sgEZRAHPTUt0d5koBkOyQ4Nq7J4nCkv2nWd6tx6Vec-60nT3ZCEswj-Ns4EL-KgKYRd5Z9jdevdMRM6M-BWbRWFuAUI/s1600/IMG_0539.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwxCF0WOgb3adQKpi-3HtnfVIp8zJjyKANMMt3f2pKxK7DNIH_sgEZRAHPTUt0d5koBkOyQ4Nq7J4nCkv2nWd6tx6Vec-60nT3ZCEswj-Ns4EL-KgKYRd5Z9jdevdMRM6M-BWbRWFuAUI/s200/IMG_0539.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484894000692808706" /></a> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfWvyDiP7WQi9oXHrLgJsUtpnSj9Ufsg4vq_wK9od2fdjtG-1SN52yFRAeep-DKDEch2vYtHjZ4Eqrv5pOpVQRHhYxKAIFjMIqP67EnUJu_DAVpJcQBPJK2YW8ckYzjVtZPU_cLkjdF2A/s200/IMG_0655.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484893998152632162" /> <img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01rqaE8XNmZtd1zwkiXcmoPK4WGrLohA28AgWXZkYltRfnzgLSDl3_vbmuJaAKQKTK_DgW7sHi1q32Q3ao2Z8pDcW2zdzwAJ9EiC7JK_DBdzy1yoMVZpHByS0qXuenOusnW44KaB7sQs/s200/IMG_0553.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484893984852227586" /><br />What doesn't belong? Teachin' the primaria kids Mi ropa.... drying<br /><br /> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw6vkU3Kh-7HH873U4TyR1OMYSrtf0vhuHp8AHyxA-ZL6J3T8pM2tcJhFhPYeN0bde-5IrdcgsmpNO3QmZc4iHNA1Pot4Im4vKzJAru6Qo4R0VtkvT6bBpOxqX_t9xHsLcd0j-LMqELk/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw6vkU3Kh-7HH873U4TyR1OMYSrtf0vhuHp8AHyxA-ZL6J3T8pM2tcJhFhPYeN0bde-5IrdcgsmpNO3QmZc4iHNA1Pot4Im4vKzJAru6Qo4R0VtkvT6bBpOxqX_t9xHsLcd0j-LMqELk/s200/IMG_5153.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5484893970872314242" /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfw6vkU3Kh-7HH873U4TyR1OMYSrtf0vhuHp8AHyxA-ZL6J3T8pM2tcJhFhPYeN0bde-5IrdcgsmpNO3QmZc4iHNA1Pot4Im4vKzJAru6Qo4R0VtkvT6bBpOxqX_t9xHsLcd0j-LMqELk/s1600/IMG_5153.JPG"></a><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Itzel - my sobrina.</div><div><br />Hola a todos! A list of my peruvian faves.<div><br /></div><div>- Cifrut (the Peruvian version of sunny D)</div><div>- combi rides with my i pod</div><div>- reading/playing with/teaching English to/general living with Itzel </div><div>- my dirt road to Shilla (and sometimes riding on top of trucks to get there)</div><div>- the sound of the rain fall on my tin roof</div><div>- hanging my laundry to dry</div><div>- learning to play volei (volleyball)</div><div>- when riding in combis or other vehicles and then looking out the window and randomly catching eyes with strangers for a split second</div><div>- the hikes and lakes in Ancash! </div><div>- dancing huayno (but with breaks!)</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>To be continued!</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Em</div><div><br /></div></div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7430279270056404099.post-56494767226270230742010-06-16T15:46:00.000-07:002010-06-16T15:51:20.383-07:00Musica a mis oidosDear Regina Spektor,<div> I just wanted to say thank you. You will probably never read this but I just thought it would be good to let you know that it is your music that gets me through the combi rides and hard times in Peace Corps Peru. I melt in your songs. I hear the same lyrics over and over again and every time they take on new meaning and I have never felt so connected to words from an artist before. As if I was there and wrote them myself because that is how I'm feeling but I needed you to put it out there eloquently, in a different way with a different rhythm and sound. Man of a Thousand Faces is all that there needs to be in the world. And good is better than perfect.</div><div><br /></div><div>Abrazos,</div><div>Emily</div>Em Bradvicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02537195035753482404noreply@blogger.com1