#yavprogram20162017

Hello friends,

In case you do not know I am back in the United States, specifically in my hometown of Atlanta, Georgia. Unfortunately my time as a Young Adult Volunteer in Peru came to an end when I developed pancreatitis due to a gallstone blocking my pancreatic duct whilst still in Lima. Fortunately for me, my case of acute pancreatitis was very mild. After reading about my illness and talking to gastroenterologists here in Atlanta I realized that some people with pancreatitis can be hospitalized for 3-6 weeks. I am thankful that I was able to have access to wonderful medical care in Lima and that my hospital stay there was a little over one week.

The weekend before being admitted to the hospital I met some wonderful new friends at an intercambio (language exchange) at the National Museum of Archaelogy, Anthropology, and History of Peru. It was such a delight to learn some Peruvian history from people my own age. They had all of the fun annecdotes that you learn in history class when you're in high school. 

My last month or so in Peru was riddled with personal problems. For example, the loss of my Peruvian phone or the crashing of my laptop seemed like the biggest problems that I could face. And I did face them! I was able to recover my phone and navigate the process of getting a new hard drive installed all in Spanish thanks to the advice of friends and perseverance. But then my body decided to not cooperate with me and I ended up in the hospital one Wednesday, and then two Wednesdays later I was headed home to the U.S.

I must say that I am very very very grateful for not only my doctor, nurses, nurse techs, lab techs etc in Peru, but for my emotional support system. Each day while in the hospital either Jenny (my site coordinator) or her husband Jed (PCUSA mission co-worker) or a lot of the time both of them managed to come visit me and make sure that I knew exactly what was going on. Though my Spanish was good I definitely did not have all of the medical vocabulary that I needed to understand each and every thing that the doctors or nurses were saying.  They were both a wonderful presence to have in my hospital room. They would either get me to laugh or laugh at my jokes. Also both Jenny and Jed made sure my parents were in the know through the whole process.

A lot of people I talk to these days always ask me about hospitals in Peru. Here’s where I was in Lima. It was a wonderful place to be sick even though being sick is no fun! When I was feeling better I started walking “laps” around my floor. This picture was taken by Jenny :)  

My friends from CEDEMUNEP Ada and Narda would come to see me and talk with me and make sure that I was being seen too. Our executive director, Cecilia, and her husband brought me flowers and visited with me. Even my friend Rosita who I’d met through my work with CEDEMUNEP stopped by to visit me on her way to class. Also my friend Karin from the Red came to visit me with Jenny one afternoon.

My host mom came by and brought me fresh clothes- actually, my host mom was the true MVP and did so much laundry for me while I was in the hospital which made packing to go back to the U.S. so much easier. My host mom’s niece came to visit me a couple of times and kept me company. Other PCUSA co-workers Sara and Rusty came to visit and brought me magazines.

Here are the flowers that my boss brought me! Aren't they beautiful?! Also here is a picture of my coworker Narda visiting me! 

I also had several visits from fellow church members, Robin and Gerda, and our lay minister Penny came to check on me. Robin and Gerda made sure I had more than enough books to read and even some wordsearches to do. Penny, our lay minister, even emailed my mom and dad to let them know what my hospital was like which truly put them at ease.

Kristen and Emily, my fellow Peru volunteers, also kept up with me via phone or Facebook during my time in the hospital and on my way home. Friends in Atlanta and friends from around the U.S. and the world also kept me upbeat and entertained from many miles away. This was very helpful when I was feeling lonely, which only truly happened once during my time in the hospital. It was also wonderful to return to Atlanta with cards, messages, and emails from all of my different communities: my university, my church, the YAV community, my fellow Presbyterian Women board members.

Kristen, myself, and Emily having an afternoon at the beach on our retreat in Lima a month before I ended up in the hospital. 

A picture of my cousin, my sister and myself at Easter dinner. My cousin has since moved to LA so I was thankful to get to see her before she moved away.

Me with some friends that went to UGA. My friend Laura graduated from med school this year (I may or may have not texted her for a diagnosis in March) and I was able to attend her graduation party a week or two after getting my gallbladder removed at Emory Hospital in Atlanta. 

Sydney, Alex, and Julia came to visit me in Peru the day I got out of the hospital. We were all planning to go to Machu PIchu together and their flight got in late on Friday night and they left on a bus at 6 am the next day so we missed each other completely! But they took me along with them! Here we are in the desert near Huacachina. 

Coming back to the U.S., while being the optimal choice in terms of recovering from being sick and then being able to have surgery with the support of my family, was not easy. I did not get to say goodbye to everyone that I worked with or that I met during my time in Peru. And even saying goodbye to those I could say goodbye to was sooo hard! But Jenny has assured me that Peru and my friends will be there when I get the chance to come back, so I can’t wait to get back!

The top view is leaving Lima and the bottom photograph is when I knew I was home! After living in a desert for so long, I was happy to see all of that green!

So I would like to close this post by saying gracias to those of my friends and family in Peru for being there for me throughout my whole time there. Muchas gracias a mi amig@s y mi familiares. Voy a volver.

As you know I work with an Afroperuvian NGO here in Lima. When I first tell foreigners that are visiting/have visited or live in Peru that I work with Afroperuvians they are generally confused. A lot of them claim not to have seen any Afroperuvians. Little do they know afro-descendents are walking amongst them all over Peru but they may not realize that someone is of African descent. I’m paraphrasing here from my intro to anthropology I took 5.5 years ago so I may be incorrect, but this is due to the way the Spanish set up their new societies in colonies all the way back in their “Golden Age.” Mixing in with other populations like native populations or slave populations was very common in Nueva España or New Spain and also in Portuguese colonies like Brazil. Those in power created a hierarchical system and within that system; those native to Spain were on top. Those born in New Spain and of Spanish descent followed, then native peoples of New Spain, then African slaves enslaved or free. But when different people mixed with each other they created this huge dichotomy of what each mix is called, pictured below:

For example, if a Spaniard had a child with a native, their child would be a mestizo. If the mestizo had a child with another Spaniard their kid would be castizo. If a Spaniard had a child with a slave they would be a mulato and if that mulato had a child with a Spaniard it would be a morisco. If that morisco had a child with with a Spaniard it would be a chino. The list of names for different mixtures goes on.

[A historical note from my historian friend Missy: mestizo doesn’t always mean the same thing in the same place (ie. city, country, continent.) How convenient right? However I am using mestizo in accordance with the diagram above.]

While the Spanish followed this general scheme of socio-racial hierarchy, I have been taught the racial construct of the United States followed the idea of hypodescent. Hypodescent is the idea that no matter if you have blood of the people that are dominant in society, if you have blood of those that are not superior then you belong to that race/class of people  So if you have one drop of black blood in the United States you’re considered black.  While the Spanish were in charge of New Spain there was a lot more mixing between people and “races.” From this intermingling came different names for different mixtures. As the diagram shows there were more nuanced levels to their dominance and the idea of “race.” These more nuanced levels to dominance and race are more convoluted than our own idea of race in the United States. Now, I am not saying that one idea hierarchy or idea of how to divide and classify people according to the color of their skin is better than the other, because they were both terrible, and they both have lasting effects to this day. However there are differences in how people view themselves because of the system imposed by Spanish colonialism. This system makes it possible for foreigners to walk around and not realize the Peruvians of African descent walking amongst them and it also makes it possible for Peruvians to tell me there’s no racism/discrimination in Peru because it is only people of color discriminating against people of color (real story).

Anyways that’s all to say that I was a little surprised that people don’t realize that there are Afroperuvians walking amongst them when one of the most famous canonized saints from Peru was of African descent. Martín de Porres was the son of a Spanish noble and a Panamanian slave (one of more than ten thousand slaves brought to Peru in the 100 years after the conquest). San Martín de Porres is everywhere in Peru. I’ve seen his statues in Cañete’s town hall a couple hours south of Lima. There’s a statue of him in the Amazonian city of Iquitos in one of their main plazas. I have also seen statues of him in people's yards in the neighborhoods that I have lived as well as on the walls of churches. Lastly, one of Lima’s forty three districts is named after him.

San Martín in the municipalidad or town hall of San Luis Cañete, a city south of Lima on the coast. 

San Martín de Porres has an interesting story as the illegitimate son of a Spaniard and a slave.His father took him in and sent him to school where he learned to read and write. [A historical note from my historian friend Missy: In North America (aka the USA) your freedom as a slave was determined by your mother. Enslaved women gave birth to enslaved children, even if the father was the master of the plantation. However in Latin American, (so countries like Peru) there are a few cases where the sons of enslaved women were claimed by their father.] He learned the valuable skills of cutting hair and bloodletting from apprenticing in a barbershop. That career move didn’t click exactly, so at twenty-one years of age he joined the Dominican monastery. As an African descendent he could not become a full member of their order but eventually he was made a lay brother. SMP was an interesting fellow. He performed lots of miracles like suspending a fellow brother who’d fallen from a scaffolding in mid-air, or washing unprocessed raw sugar and turning it into fine white, refined sugar.

SMP was a friend of animals and was fond of the mice that made their way into the convent. When traps were set for these mice and a trap caught one, SMP, being his diplomatic self, told the mouse that he could be free if he would tell his other mice friends to go live in the garden and he would make sure they got fed.

He also had a dog and cat and they got along and even ate from the same bowl. One day a mouse joined them and SMP calmed his cat and dog and encouraged them to share their food with the mouse by saying: “Calm down, creatures of God, calm down.” And to the mouse saying, “Advance without fear, brother mouse. It seems to me that you must be hungry; come forward and no one will hurt you.” And he said to the dog and cat again, “Come on children, make a little room for the guest from now on, since God gives enough for the three of you.” And the mouse, cat, and dog learned to love each other and share their food together.

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After learning of San Martín, his stories, and his miracles, it’s incredible to me that foreigners don’t really learn the history of Afroperuvians in Peru since one of their most famous saints is everywhere that I look. But I think that just goes to show that, like in most countries, whether it’s Peru or the United States there’s a ton of history that is skimmed over or overlooked completely and it’s important to bring those stories to life.

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