Fútbol Madness (-Andrew)

On Wednesday night, Jess and I got invited to go to a soccer game with some friends from work and we leapt at the opportunity to see a new aspect of the city. We brought along a friend of ours named Lindsay, passing through Iquitos on the way to Lima and then Quito. Lindsay is a fellow Fulbright Scholar who is working as a linguist to document a nearly extinct language in a town in the southwestern part of our region. This was the first soccer game we had heard about since our arrival in October, and it turned out to be an international friendly game (i.e. not a World Cup qualifier) between the national teams of Peru and Costa Rica.

We arrived at the stadium a little before the ticket time of 7:00 to wait in a long, curving line through the dusty street, which periodically broke to allow a motorcycle to get through. When we got through the gates we were each handed a large (6 foot long) cylindrical inflated piece of plastic to wave in the stands. The fascination with disposal plastic short-term entertainment devices is always somewhat depressing; I’m sure we’ll see these plastic bags floating down the river soon. The bags were flying before the national anthem and most people had lost theirs before the start of the game.

The Iquitos stadium is one of the places I was invited to play soccer in earlier this year, so I was already somewhat acquainted with it. It’s a large, clean stadium, and unlike what I’ve seen on television from stadiums in Mexico and other Latin American countries, there were no barriers between the fans and the field (usually there is a tall chain-link fence with barbed wire to separate the fans from the players). Except for the occasional plastic bottle thrown on to the edge of the field, the crowd was remarkably better-behaved than I expected, and was much more reasonable than some drunken New Zealand rugby matches I’ve been to. It was more like a Carolina game- some good loud cheering for the home team, but they also clapped when the opposing team came on the field. Plus they were great at doing the wave around the stadium. However, some of the fans (mostly in the cheaper seats) made monkey noises at the Costa Rican players of African ancestry a couple times during the game, which startled and offended the three Americans. There's a lot of ways in which the isolation of Iquitos contributes to widespread prejudices.

Our tickets cost only 25 soles (about 8 dollars) which were not as cheap as the 10 sole seats behind the goals at either end, but not as expensive as the 50 and 100 sole seats directly across from us that appeared to be identical. However, the players did face that direction during the national anthem. It was amusing, however, that the 10 sole seats filled up and they let several hundred people down onto the track and up into the expensive seats. So we felt good about our choice. Just like the US, there were vendors walking around with food, however most it was things like fried platano chips and tropical fruit flavored popsicles (YUM!).

Peru wore white jerseys with red details while Costa Rica wore red jerseys with blue fringes in case you’re trying to imagine this or watch our youtube videos. I picked out a favorite player on the Peruvian side and decided to cheer for him the rest of the game. My reasons were 1) He played defense (like me) 2) He had bright blue shoes 3) His last name was Pizarro (for those of you who don't know, Francisco Pizarro was the Spanish conquistador who nearly single handedly-along with his germs-brought down the Inkan empire- not a role model, but interesting irony). I convinced Jess and Lindsay to cheer for him, but our officemates refused. They decided instead to call him “Sao”- the equivalent here of “Gay” (not necessarily having anything to do with his sexual orientation, but still meant as an insult- it's a pretty common expression here that Jess and I have not gotten used to, especially since it makes otherwise rational people sound like middle schoolers). Pizarro eventually came forward to score on a header, reinforcing my favorable opinion of him (although our colleagues disputed that he actually scored the goal).

The game was fairly relaxed, with both teams passing back to their defenses often (Jess called it “lazy” in comparison to soccer in the villages). It became even more “strategic” (my word) after Peru went ahead by a couple goals. There were some sporadic fireworks after the scores. Peru eventually won 3-1 and I decided to spring for a Pizarro jersey outside the stadium. Tonight I have to teach an Ingles lesson, for which I usually write out a conversation. Here is this week’s:

Conversación:
Peruano: Let’s go to a soccer game tonight.
Americano: That sounds fun! I’ve never watched a soccer game.
P: Okay. Meet me at the stadium at 7 o’clock. Go to the east entrance. Wait until you see me before you go in. Don’t buy a ticket, I already have one for you.
..…
A: This is a big stadium! Who is playing in this game?
P: Peru and Costa Rica are playing. Peru is wearing white and Costa Rica is wearing red.
A: And the grass is very green! Is the Peruvian team good?
P: They were as good as Brazil in December and they are better than the United States.
A: Yes, we are better at another kind of football.
P: That is because you are all fat.
A: Who is that player with the blue shoes? He is the tallest.
P: His name is Pizarro. When he was younger, he played in Lima. He plays defense and he will play in the World Cup.
A: He scored a goal! I hope he will score again. What is the World Cup?
P: It is the biggest soccer tournament in the world. It is held every four years. The next one will be in South Africa in 2010 (Two thousand-ten).
A: Our most important tournaments in the United States are happening right now. They are the NCAA basketball tournaments, one for men and one for women. Some people call it “March Madness.”
P: Who are you cheering for in those tournaments?
A: My favorite is the team from my university in North Carolina. Both the men’s and women’s teams are very good.
P: Well, I hope your teams win.
A: Thanks! I hope that Peru will win the World Cup!

Laugh if you will, but let’s see you write out an informative, teaching lesson every week and teach it in a foreign language (Sermons don’t count).

Go Tarheels! (and wildcats)

Frisbees, Niños, and Notepads (-Jess)

This past trip to the villages was one of our most enjoyable yet, and we were actually sorry to have it unexpectedly cut short (from 9 to 5 days), which is usually not the case on Day 5 out in the field. We went out with the entire team of 9 people this time, so even though we never knew in advance when or what we would eat or where we would sleep or bathe or use the restroom, chances were good that someone else would figure these things out. This freed up our mental energy to be more engaged with the people in the communities, and in conjunction with improving Spanish and more of a rapport with the team members, this trip tended more toward the fun and interesting rather than the vulnerable and lonely.

My aunt sent down 4 boxes full of toys and school and art supplies for the children of the villages, and though there wasn’t space to take all of it out with us this time, one of the highlights of the trip for me was starting to distribute just a few of these goodies. In the first village we visited (a new one for Andrew and I), the nine of us got off the boat with our packs and bags and while the seven other Peruvians on the team managed to walk peacefully up to the school where we’d be sleeping, Andrew and I got *swarmed* immediately by a small horde of kids who wouldn’t answer any of our questions but also wouldn’t stop staring and touching us. I am usually annoyed by this after a long boat ride, and have been known to go to extremes to get some sliver of personal space. Luckily, this time we had a floppy pink Frisbee (thanks Mom and Dad!). The beauty of Frisbee is that, to play, you have to be far apart from each other, which discourages swarming. So we left our stuff in a pile and went out to the main field (all villages have a big field in their center where afternoon sporting events are held) to throw around the Frisbee. The kids had never seen a Frisbee before, and their obvious delight in a new game and being played with by new people quickly overwhelmed all my feelings of annoyance. We changed the rules so that you had to call out names as you threw to other people, and so we were introduced to Edmid, Saiya, Tomas, Rider, Los Chicos en el Pasto (the boys sitting in the grass), and 10 or 15 others. Kids are more fun when you are all on a first name basis. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing in the field, and it felt good to look over and see the adults of the village watching us and smiling. Unfortunately, when the men wanted to use the field for playing soccer, we had to move over into the tall grass to continue our game. The next day and for the rest of the week, I had 247 chigger bites. We left the pink Frisbee with the kids in Villa Flor when we left.

In the next two communities that we visited, we gave out little cardboard/magnetic doodle pads that would hold a child’s interest for about 5 minutes in the U.S. but were fascinating to the village kids. I think their favorite part was picking out which bug sticker to put on the back to mark it as theirs. These were not just popular among kids; many grown men and women wanted one too. The kids liked to draw animals for me to guess- village animals like ducks and dogs, and also jungle animals like tapirs, armadillos, rays, fish, river dolphins, and boars. Watching them tote around their little cardboard squares for the afternoon caused a sort of a mixed sensation of pleasure that I could so easily be helpful in producing a few hours of happiness and entertainment for 20 or 30 children, and a fuzzy kind of guilt. These feelings were further complicated when, the next day, they had all lost their little pads. I liked the feeling of making an immediate and noticeable impact on their happiness. I didn’t like the fact that this happiness was tied to giving out material things. I didn’t like the feeling that you could give stickers and be a hero for an afternoon but then the next day they were nowhere to be found and the situation in the village was not really altered. I think that a lot of external aid and development projects may run into the same problems on a larger scale. It is really easy to make a short-term impact and if you stop paying attention at that point then you can walk away quite pleased with yourself, but if you stick around a little longer you find that any lasting impact will require a *whole* lot more thought and effort and investment, which is why I imagine there is a lot of frustration with making lasting positive impact for community development and conservation in this region. On the other hand, if you are not prepared to come in and start a whole long-term education program, a few hours of stickers and drawing together might still count for something. You get to spend some time playing together and paying attention to each other and you both come away feeling good and appreciating the other more. The stickers and things facilitate this, but really it’s the time spent and openness of interchange that ends up making a difference. The danger is probably to focus too much on the material aid and the temptation to stop there and call it “successful”.

Speaking of material things, once again I was reminded on this trip that I have an uncomfortable amount of stuff. Sometimes when we go visit the communities Andrew and I feel like we’re roughing it, but if you ever want a real kick in the butt to simplify your life, unpack your backpack in front of a barefoot 7-year old from an Amazon village. You will take out your bug repellent, your hand sanitizer, your sunscreen, your zippered bag of toiletries, your 3 pairs of different kinds of shoes, your hammock, your cameras, your bag of clothes, your sleeping sheet and therma-rest, your mosquito net, your books and pencils, etc. etc. and the child will marvel at each thing and it will start to dawn on you that this kid has basically none of that stuff and he lives here, while you are planning to stay for nine days and somehow need it all. And this is just a small fraction of the things that you have in Iquitos. And those are also hardly anything compared to the things that you left behind at home in the states. Since, when I spend time with them in their homes and on their boats and in their meeting halls, I don’t really perceive these people as “poor” though I know they do not have a lot, the unavoidable conclusion is that I have WAY TOO MUCH. Since it is now so clear, one of our new favorite things to do is look for ways to give stuff away. I know that I’ve always heard that giving is better than receiving, and I’ve always felt ambiguous about that because I really like receiving, but I have been pretty surprised at how good it feels to go around lightening our load. It’s more than just a pat on the back for being a good citizen. When we can get in this frame of mind, we feel more incorporated, more confident and proud of ourselves, and less clingy and dependent on things that distract from what’s important. So, an extra big thanks goes out to you guys who sent down so much stuff for us to give to people- we are really looking forward to it!

Stories from the Field (Andrew)

Our good, but unfortunately cut-short trip to the field this week took us to the highest communities on the Rio Chambira and provided several interesting stories. During our day in Buena Vista, Jess and I were hanging out in our hammocks between workshops and trying to get some work done on the volunteer surveys we’re trying to put together, while deflecting the curious stares of several children. We decided to share some of our cancha, or salted corn kernels, and I discovered that one of our bread pieces had molded so we give it to a boy to feed to the chickens. He took all the food in his hands and as he ran off, shouted something about giving it to his Dad. Jess and I exchanged glances and immediately felt horrible for only giving him a small handful of corn (and were not sure how a piece of moldy bread would be received as a gift), so we decided to give him the whole bag of cancha to share with his family. His father, it turned out, was the village preacher, whom we had met before on a previous trip to this village. Jess had taken a picture of their whole family and sent a printed copy back with a colleague of ours. One thing that the father made sure to include in the picture was his prized guitar. He asked if we wanted to play it, and we said yes, only to find that it was horribly out of tune. Jess made some excuses about the wet atmosphere changing the wood as I tuned it, which made the man very excited in itself. I played the only bits of songs that I actually know, which all seemed to go over well, until we all got distracted by the family’s pet baby parrot. The rest of the afternoon we heard the man playing songs on his newly tuned guitar, and later I was called in again to demonstrate my limited abilities. Everyone seemed to be very impressed.

Later on, in exchange for the guitar playing/tuning, the boys of the household showed us how to fish for piranha off the back of a boat tied up at the beach (a couple young men showed up, and we thought they were interested in the fishing, but it turned out they needed their boat back). We got to see the fishing methods we were taught on our ecotour done by people who, even though they were young, were obviously well-practiced. The equipment consisted of a short wooden pole with a line tied to the end and a small hook and lead weight for one, while another had a thirty foot line with no pole. The bait was dropped in the water and the pole was splashed about vigorously, as if to imitate a wounded animal, although interestingly, this was used primarily to catch smaller fish with pieces of fruit as bait. These small fish were promptly torn up or filleted (still alive) to use for bait on a line that was thrown out into the current. The oldest son, Florli, pulled in three medium-sized piranhas from the water, not far from where we had been washing ten minutes earlier and bathing the day before. They were vicious looking little buggers, and flopped around on the bottom of the boat, threatening the toes of everyone around.

Finally, and probably most importantly, in each village I got invited to play “Futbol” (also known as “soccer” or “the beautiful game” for those of you in gringo-land). After politely declining the first time in Villa Flor to go play Frisbee with the children and acquire my own chigger civilization, I decided that I should take advantage of the opportunity to play soccer with the village men (plus we gave away the Frisbee). So I got the chance to play in the villages of Nuevo Porvenir and Buena Vista. Here is how a typical futbol game usually happens: Every village has a field, usually the central feature of the community, which also serves as central community gathering place, children’s playground, and feeding area for chickens. This is much different than Iquitos, where fields are hard to find and usually surrounded by barbed wire fences so that the people who want to use it can be limited (and charged). The fields don’t usually have clear boundaries, so it’s best to keep an eye out for where the locals consider out of bounds. There are also occasional obstacles, including, but not limited to, children, chickens, dogs, peccaries, pieces of lumber, puddles, and piles of grass or uncut grass (cutting grass is done by machete). In Iquitos there is usually no grass at all. Also, in the villages there’s usually a river on one side of the field, so someone has to be ready to jump in the water to retrieve the ball. This can be problematic if the side with the goal is just above the river bank.

After forming two teams, everyone has to put it in a small amount of money- usually 2 soles, or about 75 cents. The money is held by an unaffiliated person, who as serves as timekeeper, to be given to the winning team at the conclusion of the game- if you win, you double your money. Some people borrow the initial investment from someone else, hoping to pay that back at the end of the game but keep the winnings. Each game consists of two halves, usually between 15 to 20 minutes each, switching sides in the middle. There are no referees and some of the rules are open for interpretation (e.g. no rules against being offside, no rules for throw-ins, and sometimes the goalie can knock the ball out of bounds but then retake possession). Goals are always open for interpretation, especially if the goal does not have an upper bar. There are also some rules that I don’t understand, as the only times I have actually put the ball in the goal, it seems not to count for some reason (I call this the “Gringo Rule”). Needless to say, the team I’m on almost always loses, but we had great fun on the giant, half cut field at Porvenir, and the tiny, mud-covered field of Buena Vista. I look forward to doing it again.

Catching Up (-Jess)

Embarrassingly, it looks like I haven’t written much of anything in the blog since December. Good thing there’s Andrew. I actually haven’t been out to the villages since December due to scheduling conflicts, the normal level of chaos down here, and a side project comparing the malaria diagnosis and treatment practices of three clinics/hospitals in Iquitos. Interesting results from this study include the following: 1) Malaria can be tested for several times by multiple doctors without being detected and may be mistaken for a bad cold, an unidentified virus, bronchitis, dengue fever, or a figment of the imagination. 2) The public hospital of Iquitos is *very* different from hospitals in Raleigh and not a place I’d care to spend much time. 3) The best way to get to see a good doctor is to have friends call friends who can look up their ER rotation and then sweet-talk your way into the ER where there will be people screaming and bleeding all around but the doctor will take pity on a glazed and sweaty white girl in her 10th day of unexplained jungle fever but you may feel like scum for taking his attention away from people who look like they’re much worse off. 4) To get lab tests done quickly, you should bribe the lab technician. 5) If you should find yourself asked to pee in a cup but there is no obvious bathroom, you may have to go use the emergency room bathroom which is wet on all surfaces and in the back part of a broom closet and not quite big enough to fit the toilet and close the door which means that figuring out how to pee in a cup will be a challenge for someone with a high fever. 6) Malaria treatment is free in Iquitos. 7) Apart from getting it diagnosed, it’s not too hard to deal with, especially if you have some really awesome and generous friends who’ll help you navigate the hospitals and clinics and make you drink lots of fluids and generally smother you with care. 8) The worse part is that you can’t eat cheese or any dairy product or fatty thing for weeks afterward. 9) Lentil soup is okay. 10) If you get sick in the jungle, don’t tell your mom till your better.
Anyway, it was a very successful and informative exploratory study, so much so that replication is probably not needed. Meanwhile, the rest of the time that I have not been writing in the blog, we have primarily been working at the PROCREL office in Iquitos. Andrew and I are helping to design their new volunteer program, learning about map-making, collating a series of booklets of tips on how to make a chambira basket that we can leave with the village women after their training workshops, designing surveys and workshops to do in the villages, and putting together an outline and toolkit to gather the information needed to create a master plan for the conservation areas where we have been working. Since a lot of this is new to us, we have been doing a lot of reading of fat Spanish documents, and also learning a lot of general lessons about the dynamics of working in an office. It is interesting and valuable, but not as lively and intense as the time in the field (hence the slowing of the blog entries), although that is maybe not such a bad thing sometimes. In life beyond our little table in the office entryway, we have learned how to make Crema Bolteada (like flan, or custard) from our caterer friend, Andrew had a birthday and the office threw a surprise party for him with games including an “adult piñata,” we found a delicious juice bar that is on the way home from work, we’ve re-started our English classes with the college group and are once again soliciting fun songs to teach them, and we are appreciating all the books and DVDs and gourmet American foods and things that you guys have been sending down. We can tell that time is passing and progress is being made because Andrew can now play House of the Rising sun on the guitar and I can almost touch my toes when doing yoga. Life is not bad here in Iquitos, but we were both glad to be going out to the field again this week.

Ch-ch-ch-changes (in Iquitos) (Andrew)

While the presidential candidates at home are arguing about change, many new and not-so-exciting things have been happening in Peru. I know that time marches on and of course, things have to change somewhat, but some things can be a little disturbing.

Most importantly for us, prices have gone up at several restaurants, including one of our favorites, Huasai. The fixed menu, which cost 7 soles when we arrived now costs 9 soles. Furthermore since Christmas there have been ominous changes at the grocery store. Our friend Maghaly warned us that the prices of staple foods might be going up, possibly because of decisions in Lima to increase taxes/decrease subsidies (possibly related to the free trade agreement?) or maybe just because of flooding upriver. While we haven’t looked at our receipts from the beginning of our time here, we have noticed some important changes in products in the stores. When preparing for our camping trips, we have some specific items that we know are delicious, easy to prepare, and appreciated when they are shared. However, on our most recent field preparations (our first since the New Year) we found that there were no more sausages or cheese in cans, or our favorite nighttime field drink, Winter’s brand cocoa. More importantly for our everyday life, not a single grocery store anywhere in Iquitos continues to carry pre-made tomato sauce, so we were forced to learn how to make our own from scratch. Yes, it’s a good skill to have, but it does take a bit more time and the tomatoes here are not very fresh.

Some of the more amusing changes have occurred this week, with the arrival of the Asian Pacific Economic Cooperative (APEC, Peru is apparently a member) conference in town this week. The mayor of Iquitos decided to paint all the buildings (including the beautiful church) on the main square of downtown a sickly yellow color. And as if this wasn’t enough, he had new street signs put in on every corner, and street lights installed between the airport and town. While these might be considered important civic revitalization projects, the house-sized signs proclaiming “Welcome to Iquitos” (in English) along with the mayor’s name seem to give away the true intentions. Especially the one hung on the giant, windowless, abandoned hotel that overlooks the square. This building was also hastily painted just in time for the arrival of the conference members, perhaps to appear only kind-of dilapidated. However, the elementary school on the block between our apartment and the main square remains unpainted and falling apart. (Update: the Welcome to Iquitos sign has been replaced by a 50 foot tall “Please Come Back” sign at the end of the week)

You may have also heard that there are also some tensions arising to our north (For those of you that missed it, Columbia, using information from the US, attacked the camp of FARC, a terrorist/freedom-fighter organization, about a mile over the Ecuador border. Meanwhile Venezuela, on the opposite side of Columbia, is pretending to be offended and trying to provoke a regional war). Neither Iquitos nor the villages we work in are very close to the Columbia-Ecuador border, but there’s not much between us except forest. Although our friend Pamela suspects that Peru will try to play peacemaker and end up losing territory (“that’s how we lost Bolivia” she says), the chances that we will be affected are small. Hopefully things will calm down in time for our trip to Quito, Ecuador at the end of the month. It kind of makes one glad to be isolated as much as we are. Unfortunately we have been hearing rumors about deforestation enhancing roads being pushed in from Brazil to expand commerce. While this appears to be a ways off, both Dr. Wiley and a recent NPR article have informed us about recent road building activity between Iquitos and another small town to the north of us.

All of these things make me worried about what changes we will find at home (in addition to the anticipated immense culture shock). However, many things in Iquitos remain the same- negotiating things at work, hot days with sudden rain showers, difficulty finding a place for dinner that serves something besides chicken. And some changes are good- como mejorando mi español…

Hasta pronto!!

(And if you haven't seen it, watch the video of the presidential candidates professing their love for change: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEaS-K3j3M8 )

Disease and Healthcare (Andrew and Jess)

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve written anything here and we know some of you out there have been holding your breath. I could give you some excuses about too much work or illness ….so I will. We’ve been busy. And sick. In fact, that’s what this blog entry is all about; our experiences with illness in the jungle.

Jess had been feeling mildly ill the Sunday before our most recently scheduled trip after getting back from the nearby reserve, Allpahauyo Mishana, for a birding trip with our visiting professor, Dr. Haven Wiley. However, she seemed to have recovered and we had made preparations to go to the village of San Antonio on a Friday morning for one of the final chambira weaving workshops. On Thursday night, unfortunately, while eating dinner with friends, Jess came down with a very bad fever and we decided that it would be better for her to stay in Iquitos than head 4 hours up the river. So early the next morning I headed off in the boat, waving goodbye to Jess and hoping that it was only a passing bug. She gave me a little bottle of Tylenol in case I started to get sick in the field.

My first afternoon in San Antonio passed without incident and our rapido (the fast boat) returned to Iquitos. Saturday’s chambira workshop was a lot of fun and I enjoyed learning how to weave baskets and trying to take detailed pictures of people’s hands while they did so. Unfortunately, towards the end of the afternoon as the workshop was trailing off and it was turning into community/soccer time in the village, we got word that a young boy had broken his leg playing on the field. I’ll spare you the details, except to tell you that there was a large group of people crowded around the window of the same hospital room where I had some stitches put in a couple months ago. After stabilizing his leg, the nurses decided that he needed to be sent to the hospital in Iquitos. So, at about 6 in the evening, with rainclouds approaching, they carried the boy down the rotten steps to the edge of the river and loaded him in an open canoe with an engine on the back for the 8 hour trip to the big city. I decided that the boy could probably use the Tylenol more than I could (I was feeling fine), so I offered it to the nurses who quickly accepted it.

The next day I woke up not having slept very well and got progressively sorer in my head, back, and throat. It became so painful that I had to leave the workshop and lay down for most of the afternoon. After a mild fever that evening, our boss, Didi got me to the posta for a few pills (I’m not entirely sure what they were). And I slowly began to improve, although I did have a runny nose and cough for the next several days. Unfortunately, I think I might have started an epidemic in the village with my infirmity. However, while I was suffering through my own illness, I found out that Jess was having even more fun in Iquitos…

(Jess): Malaria is not that bad.

Well, that’s all Jess has to say. Things are better now in Iquitos, but they seem to better equipped to treat Malaria than anywhere else in Peru. They are spraying for Dengue though…