To hell with children

Okay I woke up today around 7:30 and took the thirty cents my mom gave me to go buy bread for my aunt who makes it down the street. 30 cents buys you about 10 small pieces of bread that I guess resemble the rolls they give you in restaurants. It’s a pretty good deal. Upon arriving to Aunt Fernanda´s house I found her inside sitting at a table not selling bread. Distraught because the only meal I look forward to here is breakfast (because I only eat bread and butter), I walked home to ask my mom who else sells bread.

Walking the maybe 250 yards between my Aunt Fernanda´s house and mine, I said hello to my uncle who was standing next to a goat lying down on a table at my grandma´s house (remember- my grandma is the town butcher). I have grown quite accustomed to see recently- killed animals being skinned and cut up but I have not grown accustomed to seeing them die. Only after had I walked past my uncle Koke could I see my uncle Reneé holding a giant bowl (I´ll call it the º blood bucketº) beneath the billy goat gruff´s neck catching the blood that spewed out of it´s aorta as it died. Grossssssss.

Not done.

Just then, Golber (Reneé`s dog) spontaneously started a fight with my neighbor Roxanna´s dog (forget his name) over who got to eat who knows what part of the goat. I screamed because they went at it hardcore and I had just woken up 10 minutes before and was still in a stupor. Since no yelling or kicking on both of my uncle´s parts could get them to stop from telling each other´s ears out, uncle Reneé took another recently-skinned goat´s fur (or is it pelt? Hair? ) with the testacles STILL ATTACHED and began whacking the dogs with it. Blood went spewing and through all of this I managed to carry on a conversation with a teacher standing there about an AIDS workshop we have next week. Totally normal, right? Right…

So this week´s been going well I guess. Yesterday I had my first pen-pal writing session with two classrooms in the primary school which was adorable. After 2 hours or work, lots of glue and crayola usage- I walked out of the school with 22 letters written, signed and stuffed into hand-made and decorated envelopes. It was realllllly cute and I will be sending the letters to a group of students that my friend Annie teaches in Cajamarca (other department far away). I will not get into my opinions on Perú´s school system and how the children are taught, but it was like pulling teeth getting these kids to use their imagination and get creative when writing.

Let’s see, I have still been meeting with my teen health promoters and I really like how those are going. Hopefully by the end of the year, I´ll have them working and giving lessons on HIV in their classrooms.

Ummmm… oh yeah. I never really had these in the states, but sometimes I get the urge to cook here. Maybe it´s a subconscious attempt for autonomy, but unfortunately autonomy does not exist in my house´s kitchen. I swear to God, Emeril himself could be wanting to cook in my kitchen and my host-mom wouldn´t have it unless she was there hovering over him or doing it for him. This is my life.

So yesterday I decided to introduce a foreign dish- BANANA BREAD. I bought a bunch of bananas at the market and went to town last night. You can buy 7 bananas for 30 cents here- also a good deal. I don’t think there is a place on earth where bananas and plantains dominate life so much. I mean, people here eat them with every meal, my dad´s clients pay him in bananas and banana/plantain fields dominate so much land you could get lost for years in the fields without finding your way out.

So using my GHETTO electric oven that has already caught fire before, I cooked 4 bananas, 1/3 butter, 1 ½ cups of flour, 1 cup of sugar, some salt, baking soda and vanilla for 35 minutes. Within 10 minutes of my taking of the oven lid, the whole product had been eaten. In Peace Corps terms, I think I hit jackpot in the º Early Winsº category. My cousins were fighting over who got a second piece and my cousin Yosari was licking the pan afterwards, which was sad because there was nothing there for her to lick. So she just licking up plain metal. So what am I making today? More banana bread. It´s all about the cultural exchange, people.

In response to the title of this blog, I hated children with a passion on Monday. I teach English once a week and I loathe it. Everyone wants to learn English and I could be in the running for the worst teacher ever. Plus, the kids don´t learn anything- we just end up drawing. So on Monday I go to my annex town and greet the 24 monsters in the classroom. We were supposed to learn the days of the week. I don’t think I got passed º Good morning class.º Within 50 minutes, I began to question if I ever wanted to have children. These kids are 10 and 11 years old- not THAT young. Well, apparently the were too young to understand the importance of not responding to a classmate by hitting him with a giant stick. Or that it´s bad to punch each other (two girls got in a fist-fight). I also didn’t approve of people ripping up their classmate´s tests or sniffing the glue or alcohol in the teacher´s cabinet (I'm not even going to go into questioning why there was alcohol in the cabinet. So I have realized that being an elementary school teacher is not in the future for me and after leaving the classroom I went straight to the snack kiosk and bought some therapeutic salty potato- chips that were articficially colored to look like bacon.

On another note- are you all prepping yourselves for my arrival? I´m sure you´re not as I realized today that I have only told maybe six friends (five of them being from Miami) that I am coming home for a short visit this June. Yes, as in 9 days to be exact. I am very excited. Excited actually might be an understatement. Either way, I am going/ coming home for ten days from the 6^th until the 17^th of June. I am traveling through Ecuador, which is exciting because other than the market on the border I have yet to discover the world next door.

So until then folks, Goodnight and Good luck.