Thursday, August 1, 2013

Momento de decir "Adiós"

So I have this idea I tend to live by when I have to leave a place or a person I really love. I think that if I just don’t talk about that amazing experience from my past, if I just ignore that it has already happened and finished, I can trick myself into thinking that I am still in that memory I so crave to hold onto. So it’s really difficult for me to write this and go against my nature, because I know that it will be my last post written from Peru (at least this year!), and I know that my time teaching music for a month here has finally reached its double bar (well, at least I can still make geeky music jokes), but I also know that if I write about my last days in Peru, I will be able to hold onto a part of these wonderful memories for many years to come.
So, a couple days after I wrote my last blog post, I got a cold. It crept up on me like a very desperate thief in the night: I woke up my last morning in Trujillo feeling feverish and exhausted. From there, I have progressed through many wonderful stages in the thrilling life of a sickness: the constantly-runny nose, the not-being-able-to-breathe/ breathing out of my mouth stage (now that was attractive), the sore throat, the headaches and pressure on my sinuses, and for the encore, the enticing husky voice that comes from coughing way too much and making too many squealing noises (I can’t help that last one- it’s in my nature, especially when llamas are involved). So I sound pretty ridiculous right now, and that’s been entertaining. It has also been super fun to fly four times in the past few days and be in varying levels of elevation. My sinuses and head are loving me right now! ;) But sickness or not, these have been some crazy-awesome last few days here.
So I said goodbye to my Trujillo Symphony family on Thursday, and only a Peruvian orchestra would wish someone farewell the way they did. I had told the director a few days before that Thursday would be my last day in rehearsal. He raised his eyebrows, cracked a huge grin and said, “Ohhhhh. We will do something!”. Something I love about the people of Peru is that they will take any excuse to party. Who cares what it is or how long it will take? It’s going to happen, and it will usually involve music, food, and dancing. So I showed up to my last rehearsal on Thursday morning, camera in hand to document my last day, and curious to see what would go down. Everything was seemingly normal. I said hello to my cello buddies, sat down, tuned when the oboe gave its A. I will be honest- I was disappointed when the director put up his arms to begin conducting the first piece on our rehearsal schedule for the day. And then he gave the downbeat, and the whole orchestra broke out playing “Happy birthday” in unison. Everyone was beaming and staring straight at me, and the director motioned with his free hand for me to stand up. Red-faced and very confused yet amused, I stood up and just took it all in. Everyone was laughing and playing their hearts out for me…as if it were actually my birthday. That was the part that really stuck me as strange but also made me laugh extremely hard. It’s not my birthday! Granted, I do turn 20 in a couple weeks, but…I do know for a fact that the Peruvian and the American calendar in regards to how many days are in a month are the same. There was no way it was August 11th. So when everyone stopped playing, and they all clapped profusely, I did a gracious curtsy and sat down. Then my two friends sitting on either side of me immediately turn to me. “I didn’t know it was your birthday!” says one. “Es tu cumpleaños?!” asks the other. And I just put my head down, attempting to laugh quietly because we are actually rehearsing the piece this time. “No, it’s not. I’m really confused!” I say. And one friend just joins in the laughter of the absurdity. It was a beautiful moment. I sat in the rehearsal pondering why people thought it was my birthday or whether that is just the song they do to celebrate someone leaving, but I was all-the-more confused when masses of people came up to me during the break and said, “Felicidades!”, “Congratulations!”, “Feliz cumpleaños!”. For a while I just thanked them because I didn’t quite know how to respond. They seemed super excited that they were able to help partake in the celebration of the day of my birth. I eventually talked to the director (who had told everyone before I showed up to rehearsal that it was my birthday and told them to play for me) who raised his eyebrows once again (that seems to be a common expression for him!) and exclaimed, “It’s NOT your birthday?! I thought that is what you told me!”. I still do not know what happened or how he thought he got that from me…I will never know, but I am so glad it happened. It brightened my entire day and made me and my orchestra friends laugh every time someone new came up to me, kissing my cheek, and wishing me a happy birthday. That moment of standing up, surrounded by these wonderful people who love to celebrate life with music and laughter, will forever by engrained in my mind. So after that wonderful moment and the many funny candids I took of people in the middle of rehearsal, I got one last group shot with the ensemble, hugged and kissed everyone goodbye, taught my last two lessons, and headed back to my homestay to finish packing up for Lima.
I had my usual struggle of fitting everything into my two large suitcases, my backpack, and a large tote bag (yeah, I know…), enlisted my roommates’ help, took pictures with my host family, hugged and kissed them many times, and boarded an overnight bus to Lima with everyone else in my program. It was really emotional to see everyone saying goodbye to his or her host family, and it was very hard to say goodbye to my own without feeling like they were my real family. I loved Elsa and her daughter-in-law, Selena. They were so wonderful. Another moment I will never forget is cuddling with Elsa in the taxi on the way to the station. My baggage took up three seats in the taxi cab (yeah, I know again…), so Elsa and I squeezed together into one seat in the back. I put my arm around my tiny, adorable host mother, and she held my hand as we drove. I told her how grateful I was that she was my mom, and we shared our last words together. It was the perfect way to say goodbye.
We arrived to Lima the following morning, and a group of us set out to the Lima zoo to see llamas, interesting birds, monkeys, and some pretty cool cats. We had a great time walking around, having contests about who could take a better picture of the lion between the bars of his large cage (let’s just say my friends were not pleased with the good quality of my pictures in that moment!), and eating churros. That night, I repacked my bags so that I only had to bring my backpack and my smaller of the two suitcases to Cusco for the next 2.5 days, showered, and happily went to bed early to sleep off the feverish feeling of exhaustion I had fought all day.
We flew from Lima to Cusco the next morning in three different groups of flights. I was fortunate enough to not be on the flight that required people to wake up at 3 am, yet I still felt very tired by the time we arrived to our hostel. We had a great room with a kitchen and beds for five people, so my roommates and I plopped our things down and rested until the tour we all had a few hours later. We toured around Cusco by a guide and saw many great things…but yet we were all incredibly tired and grumpy the entire afternoon. Several of us have looked back on that dark day with regret and shame, feeling sorry for our poor tour guide who had to drag around 30 moody, whiny, unengaged Americans. But we got through it, and I am very glad we got to see some historical places and some really beautiful parts of the city. And the part of the day that made ALL OF IT worth it…I got pictures with a llama, folks. I had taken pictures with llamas prancing in the background in the wild, but this was one of those llamas that is all clean and fluffy, dressed up and decorated for crazy tourists like me to have a photo shoot with. I hugged the llama as it smiled at me, and it was the softest, best thing I had ever hugged (sorry, Mom and Dad). We had a strong friendship bond that is completely apparent in our pictures together. I am so glad I now have this memorable token of the time we shared together (for about 2 minutes…that I had to pay to do…but let’s just indulge in some good old-fashioned Freudian repression and stuff that way down into the psyche). So that rocked. My next favorite part of that day was the nighttime. Some people were very adamant about pushing through the exhaustion to go out and partake in the festivities held in celebration of Peru’s Independence Day, which happened to be that day. Others were just grannies and slept. And by “others”, I really just mean me and my four friends. We found a tv channel in English, watched some disturbingly fascinating reality tv show as I gave a few of the girls massages because many of us were in pain from the heavy bags we all mistakenly packed (I have been proposed to by multiple of my girl friends from the program due to my supposed “wicked” massage skills. My VivePeru “clients” claim I have a great fallback if music doesn’t work out!), got one massage in return, and headed to bed at 9:30 pm. Oh, yes.
The next day we took a train to Aguas Calientes, the town at the base of Machu Picchu. We all met in the town square to walk to the train station together late at night, and one of the cutest dogs I have seen in Peru waddled through our group for some attention and love as we waited to leave. Naturally, I got very excited and started to pet her (she was clean and looked normal, so don’t worry! And I never got rabies from any dog I may have pet, so everyone should be proud.), while everyone else backed away in fear that she would attack someone. But I continued to pet her until it was time to walk half a mile to the station. As we pulled our bags across the street and headed down a dark alley (scary?!), the dog started to follow us. And no joke, she would wander off for a second and would then be walking right beside me, within a hand’s grasp. My friends and I affectionately named her Petunia, in honor of my wonderful deceased rat (rest in peace, little Petunia!), and she followed us the whole way to the station. But the even more amazing part was, whenever a man would be heading toward our group, Petunia and another dog that was walking with us would go and bark and attack the man. At first we thought it was just a coincidence. But then they proceeded to do that every single time we passed a man. They didn’t do anything to women, just the men. And then one of my friends pointed out that she and the other dog were protecting us. They followed our group the entire way, scared off any “threat” they thought could harm us (and even though it was unpleasant to watch, it was pretty funny to see these poor guys’ faces when the dogs came toward them- they all got a good workout in when they bolted from those barking dogs!). I didn’t realize how much of an animal lover I was until I came to Peru, and I think it is because there are so many stray animals running around and a lot of cute, different ones I don’t often see. So everyone knows me as the girl who is obsessed with llamas and naked Peruvian dogs and then any other animal we see. I like it, and I think my amazing veterinarian sister’s heart for animals has rubbed off on me- thanks, Rebecca!! So I said goodbye to Petunia (yes, I get that attached to things that can’t talk to me and don’t have my thumbs) and boarded the train to Aguas Calientes. But as we went from Lima to Cusco to Aguas Calientes, I began to feel more and more homesick for Trujillo. Trujillo is full of genuine, kind, authentic Peruvians. And Lima has some of those, but it is more busy, cold and polluted, and more touristy. But I had never seen so many fellow gringos in Peru until I got to Cusco. Then I got to Aguas Calientes and Machu Picchu, and that record was broken once again. I realized that after being immersed in the culture and living the life of a Peruvian for the past month, I could not stand being associated with, or being known as a tourist. It drove me crazy. And all I wanted to do was be back in a small city with people who came up to me, speaking Spanish at an extraterrestrial-type speed without even thinking, “Hey. She definitely isn’t from here. Maybe she doesn’t speak the same language I do”. But I loved that so much. It grieved me to not be around that anymore. So I felt very sad that my Trujillo days had come to a close, and when you add lack of sleep, having a cold in high elevation, freezing cold showers two days in a row, lack of wifi even though it was promised, and traveling with the same people for three days straight, you get one grumpy, passive aggressive Ruth. Yeah, I had to take quite a few moments to breathe and was mostly okay, but those hard times of annoyance came like tidal waves every few hours or so for everyone those last couple days in Aguas Calientes, Cusco, and Lima.
One memory I hope to never forget: haggling with merchants over souvenirs with friends who are very outspoken and a little rude at times! The souvenirs in Cusco and Machu Picchu were much more expensive than those in Trujillo because all the tourists flock there, and they of course don’t realize that they are being charged almost twice as much because they are foreigners. However, out group knew that going into Cusco, so when we would ask a merchant in their booth-tent how much an item would cost, and they would say “40 soles” when it’s usually “20 soles”, we would exclaim in shock that that is ridiculous and walk away. Yes, it was sometimes rude, but it was also pretty hilarious. We had a shop owner try to sell us an alpaca sweater for 70 soles, but she assumed we didn’t speak Spanish and was telling us the cost in English. Well, we couldn’t understand her, so we thought she said 17 soles and were mad at ourselves for having bought similar sweaters for 35 soles elsewhere. Then we said the price back to her in Spanish and realized that she had said 70, the price TWICE as much as the usual price for this item, and we all just said, “Oh my gosh, no!” in disgust and walked away. Oh, the feeling of being ripped off is so bittersweet. Mostly just bitter. But we all still indulged a little in these ridiculously high prices eventually because some of us still needed to buy some gifts for other people! So we contributed our share. ;)
Although Machu Picchu was plagued with tourists in a way that is comparable to all ten of the plagues on Egypt combined, it was one of those wonders I will never forget seeing. That place is stunning, out-of-this-world, eye-popping, amazing. Whoa. Our group first hiked up Waynu Picchu, a mountain that overlooks the ruins of Machu Picchu once at the top, and that hike was beautiful (and not too hard- praise the Lord!). We even climbed through two tiny caves to get to the top, walked through some forest, walked up many steps made in the rocks (my legs are still as wobbly as jelly), and saw other ruins built on the side of the mountain. Let’s just say that I took over 900 pictures that day. The hike up Waynu and then walking around Machu Picchu at the base, and then walking to an Incan bridge not far from the ruins made it impossible for me to keep my camera off. I literally walked, looking straight ahead and taking pictures left and right without even glancing; because everything was so beautiful, it didn’t matter where I turned my camera to snap a picture- it was going to be beautiful! So it was fantastic and gorgeous and unlike anything I had ever seen. Combining Machu Picchu with my trips to Huaráz and Chachapoyas, I am fresh out of words to describe the beauty I have experienced this past month. After seeing all those sights, my friends and I opted to walk back down to Aguas Calientes- another hour-long hike- instead of taking a bus ride down. It was super great to talk and see more wonderful things, but the entire hike was one, LARGE downhill step. LARGE. So we basically walked down huge stairs the whole way, and because of that we are seriously suffering whenever any of us stand up, sit down, walk up an incline, walk down an incline, or really do anything that involves moving. Or breathing. Really, it just hurts. And it “hurts so good”, as I like to say. It feels great to know that I did three good hikes during my travels in Peru. But my poor legs beg to differ at the moment.
After returning to Aguas Calientes, one of my roommates and I decided to be adventurous and try cuy (guinea pig) and alpaca as one of our final meals in South America. We took many pictures to document it, which made the entire lunch more entertaining. But we both agreed that alpaca is delicious (which stinks, because I love alpaca and llamas when they are living- sorry, big guys!). “It tastes like filet mignon!” is what my roomie excitedly said between her first bites. I just really loved it. And the cuy…well, it wasn’t bad. It was like a slightly less-tasty chicken, but the taste is completely overpowered by the way it is prepared and looks. The type of cuy platter we ordered made it so that you get the entire guinea pig, cooked on a plate. That includes the head, the teeth, the little claws, everything. So it’s basically like seeing your pet fried up in front of you, still in the running position. That made me sad, especially since I had an adorable little tater tot of a guinea pig growing up (rest in peace, Precious. Say hi to Petunia for me!)! But now I can say I tried it, and I am glad for the experience. But looking at that nasty head and feet was pretty nauseating- I’m not going to lie. And we had two vegetarians eating lunch with us, and we frequently apologized for the disturbing sight. They were understanding champs. Those poor souls.
We all packed up once again and got ready to take the train from Aguas Calientes back to Cusco for the night. As we were doing this, one of the girls in the program could not find her passport. She looked everywhere and eventually realized that she had left it in a public restroom at Machu Picchu. She ran back there as soon as she thought of it, but her passport was nowhere to be seen. My friends and I caught up with her after she had talked to some people, gone to the police to file a report, and began making plans to get a new one. She would have to miss her flight home, wait in Aguas Calientes alone for four days, pay a hefty fee, and overall just be miserable and alone. It was terrible, and she was understandably very upset. She had a nightmarish afternoon filled with stress and grief over this. And then we get to the train station, and a woman apparently runs up to a couple of the girls in our group, asking if anyone knew a girl who had lost her passport, and they said the name of the girl from our program who had lost her passport. This woman and her friends had found the girl’s passport in the bathrooms at Machu Picchu, picked it up, found her train ticket to Cusco for that night in there, came to the station with the passport, and had been going up to random groups of people, asking if they knew her. Wow. They gave the girl in our group her passport back, and everyone was squealing (well, I don’t really know if any of the boys in our group did!) with happiness for her. She was beaming. And some of us girls even got a little teary-eyed because we were just so touched by the incredible care of these complete strangers who went out of their way to do this for someone they could have never found. And the girl was spared so much pain and trouble and made it home safely. Wow. I just thought that was such an angelic act of kindness.
Speaking of angelic experiences, the bus ride from the train station to our hostel once we arrived in Cusco was breathtaking. We were picked up by the bus around 11:30 pm and had to drive for almost two hours back to where we would spend the night. All of us were very tired from a full day at Machu Picchu, and I wasn’t feeling too well because of all the altitude changes and the pressure it was putting on my sinuses. However, when we all gathered into the bus, sat down, and reveled in the sanctity of darkness once the lights turned off, I realized that no matter how tired I was, I couldn’t sleep. After such a beautiful day, I started to think about everything I had experienced this past month and how amazing it was. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I only had one day left in Peru at that moment. And I just wanted to take it all in and really process that, because I really had not had any time to just sit and think and enjoy the silence since I had arrived in Peru! So I sat, staring out the window, listening to All Sons & Daughters and Gungor, and it was wonderful. And after we got through the towns with all their streetlights, we progressed through miles and miles of open fields, where I saw the stars. There were not just a few, dimly lit dinky ones. They were everywhere, shining so brightly, lighting up the entirely dark midnight sky with their radiant beauty. I have only seen a handful of night skies like that one, and had definitely never seen one in the Southern Hemisphere, in South America, in Peru, in the middle of the night when everyone else is asleep on a bus after seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. So I sat there, staring out the window for two hours, beaming about as much as those stars were, listening to music and worshipping God in the most quietly-loud way one ever could. And then everything was perfected when the song, “How He Loves” came on- and yes, I have five different versions of that song, so it was bound to come on sooner or later, but it still feels like a new song every time I listen to it. And I just sat there, mouthing every single word, singing in my head in praise to the Maker who put those stars in the sky every night. The One who had directed my life and cared for me, for every single person I met on this trip, since before we were all born. He led me to Peru, led me to wonderful friends, revealed to me some of my gifts and how I want to use them, showed me the power of music and healing and friendship and delighting in who I was made to be. I learned so much during this one trip for these five week and was stunned by so many amazing experiences, and I chalk that all up to God and am so grateful for every hardship, hard night, sad day, and any other difficult experience I have had to and will continue to go through in order to live in His love and share it with others. I was able to sit there and reflect on all of this, seeing one my favorite things in the entire world, and it was an unreal experience I will never forget.
After those precious moments I had that no one else with me even knew about, I was feeling pumped and energized to finish off this trip with wonderful memories and head home to my loving friends and family. After we got into our hostel at 2 am, we all headed to bed, only to wake up 5 hours later to catch our flight back to Lima. And then after a few more hours of last-minute souvenir shopping and of recruiting all of my friends to help me repack my 20-pounds-overweight suitcase (we did it! CHAMPIONS!), I hugged many wonderful people, and many tearful goodbyes were said before I got into the taxi and headed to the airport. Now that I am home as I write this last part, I just have to say how blown away I am by the friendships I developed with people throughout my time in Peru. I loved the Peruvian friends I made in the orchestra (shout out to Branco, my awesome Peruvian friends who was fluent in English and made my experience in orchestra that much better, thank goodness!!) the students I taught, and my wonderful host family who took such great care of me, but I really treasure the friends I made within the VivePeru program. All the people volunteering in the program had diversely electric personalities that were all so fun and interesting to be around. I really connected with a group of about 6 girls (three of those were my amazing roommates!), and we spent a lot of time together, especially toward the end. I just loved how much they loved me and how they respected me, even though my beliefs and lifestyle were the most contrasting from everyone else’s. We all respected one another and enjoyed our differences, and that was so refreshing and different than what I have seen with most “opposing” groups (whatever type of group that would be) growing up. It was so fantastic to be together with these girls and experience true friendship in such a short amount of time, and it has made me so excited to get back to school and see my wonderful friends there as well! So I am incredibly grateful for that.
After parting ways with my wonderful friends and getting to the airport, I met some more interesting people. I met a high schooler from Georgia in the security line in Lima who was visiting family here in Peru. I met an Irishman in the immigration line who owns a bunch of property in Peru, including a five star hotel right on the coast, and travels here for three weeks each month and is only home in Texas for one week each month. It was very interesting talking to him, and his accent was awesome! After going through security, immigration, and customs in Lima, I finally made it to my gate, where I met a woman sitting next to me who was going home to California and was very excited to see her husband and chihuahua, Homey (yes, that was the dog’s name). Then there was the janitor who was full out singing popular Peruvian pop songs as he was cleaning right next to me who brightened my evening. He seemed very happy, so that was refreshing. After sitting in the gate and starting to write this entire mammoth of an entry, my name was called, and I was asked to come see the worker at the gate. After I packed up my 55-pound carry-ons once again (yes, that is the secret to getting my suitcases to be under the weight limit!), I talked with the worker who told me that I and four other lucky people were randomly chosen by the U.S. government to receive a full screening of our bags and clothing. After that, another agent came to me and conducted the entire screening for me, entirely in Spanish. And I mostly understood what she said and was able to open my bags, open various things for her, turn on my technology, show her my waistband of my pants, take off my shoes, and then repack everything, all by following her directions in Spanish. It was awesome! It was my final feat in South America, and I don’t think she even caught on that I might have not understood her sometimes. I was so giddy after that, even though it was not the most enjoyable experience (especially since the people in security had also done a full search on me and took apart my bags there already. I think my overflowing “personal item” manifested as an oversized tote bag that wouldn’t close was disturbing to them. And the metal foldable music stand that could totally be used as many weapons probably didn’t help.), and because I was examined to thoroughly, I was allowed to board first- cha ching! I slept for a while on the plane, moped a little over leaving everyone and everything, watched the movie Up and cried with Carl when his wife died, then rejoiced with him as his life was once again made whole through the friendships with Dug, Kevin, and Russell. We had a very emotional journey together, Carl and I. Once we landed, I then spent three hours out of my four-and-a-half-hour layover going through immigration, picking up my luggage once again, lugging my bags through customs, rechecking my bags, getting my boarding pass to Detroit on the opposite end of the airport, going through security for 45 minutes with an “enjoyably” impatient, whiny 45 year-old businessman barking complaints at anyone who would listen to his pain and grief of being the only one who is waiting in this line, and finding my gate. I then sat and recharged my technology, took advantage of being able to text and go online on my phone again, and simply enjoyed my traveling adventure. I boarded my flight to Detroit from Miami and spent the two hours of flight time working on this post, so I can now say with accomplishment that it has taken me many hours to compose this masterpiece, and that I have written this from Lima, Miami, in the air, and in my Detroit bedroom, and it has been the perfect way to reflect on my trip and bring my time in Peru to a close.
Now that I am home and am preparing for Suzuki cello book training (which starts tomorrow), am celebrating my and my sisters’ birthdays (for REAL this time!!), am doing some more traveling and visiting of loved ones, am moving into my new apartment in Chicago, practicing, and starting school, I feel very encouraged and ready to begin the next chapter of my life, the one that is full of memories from wonderful life experiences and lessons learned in another country and culture. I can wholeheartedly say that this was the best summer experience of my life so far. I feel a little changed, and all for the better. I just feel so thankful that I experienced all I did, that I fell in love with teaching music and with Peru in general. I know I will miss it tremendously, and it may be hard to adjust from having so many adventures, meeting so many new faces, and experiencing such different things, to being back in the States and back to routine, but I think all these factors have changed the way I view life here and have made me all-the-more grateful for my wonderful life in the U.S.. I have been so blessed growing up and living here, and I want to continue to use what I have been given and what I have learned to help others in not as fortunate places. And Peru helped me discover that, among other things. I will miss it so much, but I hope that that was not the last time I will set foot in Trujillo and that my last Symphony Orchestra rehearsal there leads to other ones in the future with those musicians. J This post brings my wonderful, amazing time in Peru to a close for this year, but I am positive that my time there will continue to affect me for the rest of my life.
Thank you so much for reading my blog- especially this VERY long post-, for supporting me, for praying for and with me, and for just being here for me. You are all amazing, and I greatly, greatly appreciate it.

For now, I will just say “Hasta luego”- “Until later”- and hope to be back in my home-away-from-home country very soon. J