Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Emergency in Urubamba




These photos are from Emily and Kusi, two of my friends who live in Urubamba.

Hi everyone.

So this post diverges from Barcelona and takes you back to Urubamba, Peru, which desperately needs our help right now. For days now, the rains have been pouring down over the province of Cusco--67% in excess of normal levels, according to the weather service--completely flooding the region. These are said to be the worst rains in the area in 15 years, following the beginning of a wet season that was drier than normal. The government of Peru has declared that the province of Cusco is now a disaster area.

I remember how my family in Urubamba would comment that they were worried when it didn't start raining more frequently in November; then they were just worried about the fact that plants weren't getting the nutrition they needed, but now it's apparent that this left the soil dry and unable to soak up the water that begin its torrential downpour at the beginning of the weekend.

The destruction is terrible; 600 homes have been lost in Pisac, 100 in Urubamba, and at least 3,000 homeless in Ollantaytambo. The bridge over Pisac is destroyed. There is now only one bridge that goes to Cusco, and only light cars can pass over it for fear that it, too, will collapse. On the scale of all of Cusco, there are at least 13,000 people who have been affected by this flooding, 10 of them confirmed deaths, and more than 2,000 affected houses. Some 2,000 tourists are also stranded on Machu Picchu and in Aguas Calientes and are being rescued bit-by-bit by helicopters. The governor of Cusco province, Hugo Gonzales, estimated that the damages will cost at least $285 million.

The hardest part for me, however, is not simply the sheer mass of people who have been victim to mother nature's capricious temperament, but to see the pictures and know that this is happening in a place that I hold dear to my heart, a place I call home. My friends in Urubamba, all of whom, thankfully, are okay, told me that everything is even worse in Yucay than in Urubamba itself (Yucay is a town right next to Urubamba). I spent much of my time working on the stoves project in Yucay and I know all the little roads of that town like the back of my hand. Many of the houses we visited there were close to the river and it makes me incredibly sad to imagine those strong, welcoming, and kind people watch everything they know be washed away by the muddy, rain-swollen Río Vilcanota. I remember the day one woman proudly showed us her back yard, a little orchard with a gate that led you down a small slope towards the river. I can't bear to think that now that may be gone and she is one of many now living in tarp tents and hoping for help to come soon. My Peruvian stoves boss, Jaime, and his wife, Irma, were building a home in Yucay bit-by-bit, working on it during weekends and evenings off. I learned yesterday that it, too, was destroyed by the river. The streets I knew so well now covered by water, families wading through to try and save important belongings, then retreating again to higher ground, able only to watch as the flood takes its course and their house. I consider Urubamba my home, a part of who I am, and they say that everything is harder to bear when it hits closer to home.

There is some effort organized, at least, for the tourists who are trapped on Machu Picchu, as helicopters have been sent to lift them out. This aid, however, is not coming fast enough, as there are so many tourists still to rescue and their supplies of food and water are rapidly dwindling. The small towns of the Sacred Valley, the towns that I know so well, however, are still suffering and need help desperately. So far there seems not to be much international attention on the problems there, but we need to keep looking and bring the minds of the rest of the world to bear on Peru. Not just on the tourists, but on the people who have lost everything and are stranded, some even stranded from the market where they would go weekly for food, people now without potable water, close to losing power (if the water inundates the power lines any more, short-circuiting them or toppling them). Let's all please keep Peru in our thoughts and prayers and hope the rains stop so this whole mess can be figured out soon.


Sources and More Information:
Current as of 27 January 2010

La República Perú (video/photos)
BBC (readers' stories and pictures)
BBC (with video)
El País (Spain)
El País (Spain, photos of Machu Picchu/Aguas Calientes)

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Como Aprender Français en Espanyol...






{{Te quiero, Barcelona}}

Today marks the end of my first week in Barcelona, and every minute has been perfect. As I walk down the street, I catch phrases of Spanish (I'm back in the realm of "Castillian" Spanish, yes!), and then Catalan, around me. I love wandering the Passeig de Gràcia, Las Ramblas, L'Avinguda Diagonal, making my way down to the sea, exploring places I have only read about or seen in movies. Staring, wide-eyed, at the art around me that encompasses any view; whether it be a brightly-colored building with beautiful wrought-iron balconies, an exposition of sculpture in the middle of the street, or a curving, strange, fantastical building that could only belong to Gaudí. I'm slowly starting to accustom myself to the public transportation system--which is our metro stop, how to navigate the tramway, which buses take me to the French Institute, or downtown. Not quite perfect yet (I think Guillem is getting tired of my texts about directions, but they are getting fewer!) but bit by bit. Guillem said I could graduate to a different, easier metro stop in a month or so, once I have ours down.

The hardest part of my transition so far has been language-juggling. I have to constantly keep my brain trained to distinguish when a language switch is made. In the apartment, for instance, we operate with three different languages: Spanish, Catalan, and English, varying depending on who is talking to who. Once I've mastered some more French, some of that may be added to the mix as well! Our evening news channel is in Catalan, but our favorite program is in Spanish. With some of Guillem's friends, he normally speaks in Spanish; with others, normally in Catalan, and it's hard for them to maintain a switch to Spanish if I'm around. So I find myself listening hard to catch the words I know in Catalan, make sense of the sentences, then, when I least expect it, am surprised by a sudden switch back to Spanish.

French class so far has been excellent, though it adds another level of languages for my brain to sort through. Since the beginning it has been exactly what it promised--super intensive--with our teaching talking only in French and expecting the same from us. The only time I don't hear French in the classroom is if she has to clarify an instruction or or we don't know how to ask a question, and then we switch directly to Spanish. We're moving quickly through all the basics--first group conjugation, asking questions, numbers, introductory conversations--and I'm finding it challenging and rewarding to start working on another language from scratch again. The hardest part of French so far, for me, is the pronunciation. Nothing looks like I feel that it should sound! After so many years of having Spanish pronunciation drilled into me, it's what I want to automatically turn to. All of the native Spaniards face the same problem; today we practiced the sound of "e" for about five minutes, trying to figure out where it is in our mouth/throat to be able to replicate it later.

The other thing that I'm having to cut back on is my use of "Peruvianisms". When I went out to dinner with the family last Thursday, they immediately made fun of me for using the Peruvian favorite: "ito/ita". Cosita/cositita, ahorita, pequenita, regalito, all of these common words that I grew to love in Peru are valid no longer. Neither is chévere, the Peruvian word for "cool"; here it's "guay". No longer can I say achachao when someone makes a mistake, añañao when something is beautiful, or alalao when it's cold. But when I return home, I'll have plenty of Spain expressions to add to my list!

Adéu! Au revoir! Adios!

Friday, January 15, 2010

Benvinguda a Barcelona!


{{Vuela, vuela alto mientras puedas}}

I am now in Barcelona and starting to get myself settled in my apartment and my new city. And with the time difference; it's so strange to think that as the day is starting to wind down here, it's only just bringing out its new promises at home!

The most important thing that you must always keep in mind about Barcelona is that it is part of Catalonia first, and part of Spain second. The signs in the airport were first and foremost in Catalan, then followed by Spanish and English. When I went out to lunch with Guillem yesterday, the restaurant only had Catalan for the menu descriptions. And when we went out to dinner with his family last night, Catalan took precedence on the menu. Their language is an important part of the culture of Catalonia, especially after Catalan was so persecuted during the dictatorship of Franco. Even today, there is still political tension between extreme Spanish nationalists and Catalans regarding the amount of autonomy and power Catalonia should have.

Yesterday, my first day in Barcelona, was a busy one. After picking me up from the airport in his car and taking me to deposit my stuff in the apartment, Guillem took me on a walking tour of Barcelona. We visited my university, which is a little ways from the house, and walked down Las Ramblas (the main tourist street in Barcelona), saw lots of amazing Gaudí architecture as we walked (including the still-being-constructed Sagrada Familia), walked by the harbor, and finally to his university. My poor little feet were so tired by the time this finished!!

Yesterday we also enjoyed a great dinner with Guillem's family. It was my first Spanish meal, with croquetas, jamón serrano, and pa amb tomaquet (bread rubbed with tomato...a Catalan specialty) that we shared as appetizers, followed by me with asparagus in a romesco sauce topped with more jamón serrano. Definitely nothing bad to say about food here!!

Tonight shall be my first night getting to know people as it's a birthday party for a friend of Guillem's. But dinner isn't until 10:30...that will definitely take some getting used to!

Soon I'll put up pictures of my house and the city. Adéu!

Monday, January 4, 2010

T-9 To Barcelona



{{El tiempo vuela como vuelan los papeles olvidados}}

Somehow the time has flown, the time has come, and I am officially 9 days out from leaving the States for Barcelona. I have been home from Peru for over a month and I cannot believe how fast the time with my family has run by. Marker by marker slipped past me in revelry and festivity: one-week home, the start of my mom's winter vacation, my birthday, Christmas, various events with friends, various dinner parties and get-togethers, New Years' Eve, New Years' Day and the Rose Bowl, the end of my mom's winter vacation. I am officially registered for my classes; I am taking a course in Spanish Modern Art, Spanish Cinema, and Introductory French (yes, I know, French in Spain...). Now I have only one full week and a few days left to say my final goodbyes, pack everything, write letters to the Dartmouth admissions reaffirming my desire to attend Dartmouth next fall (a resounding "Of course!"), and generally organize myself to board that early-morning flight on out.

After one time around with packing for several months away, you'd think that I have it pretty well under control and I'd be able to whip together my bags in a snap. This, however, is unfortunately very untrue. First off, the baggage restrictions are quite different; now I can take two bags of 50lbs each, not two bags of 50lbs total. That one word-difference can really limit you!! Second off, I have to take an entirely different type of clothing with me to Barcelona than I did to Urubamba. In Peru, I lived in a small town and I spent the majority of my time up to my elbows in mud, so my clothes had to be able to withstand rough conditions. And if I wasn't working, I was just hanging out with people who saw me in my work clothes, so did it really matter that much anyway? Clearly, no. I also, if I wasn't working, was exploring the outdoors, hiking, climbing mountains, you know, the usual. In Barcelona, I am living in a big, bustling, European city that is known for its art and fashion. I will be attending classes, visiting museums, and generally hob-knobbing it in a more cosmopolitan environment. This is city living, people. Even Cusco, my Peruvian big city, does not compare to Barcelona.

So what does this mean? Well, I'm still figuring it out for my bag weight (and making sure I leave plenty of room for souvenirs to bring home, of course!), but so far it's looking like more fun shoes, dresses, skirts, and a larger variety of tops. This time, I've converted the ping-pong table downstairs into my packing station. Tomorrow I'm heading out to do some of my final shopping and the great pack shall happen next Monday.

Get ready Spain, because I'm a-coming!

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

HomeBeing

{{Home is where the heart is}}

I have officially been home a week from Peru and still feel quite strange being back in the States. I'm no longer accustomed to life here and getting back into the rhythm of life at home is hard. I feel different, separated from the other people I see around me, people who haven't just gotten back from living in Peru and don't know what it's like to return after immersing yourself so fully in another culture. I felt like a complete stranger, completely disconnected as I walked through the Atlanta airport, back on American soil for the first time in three months. Why did I only hear English around me? Why did everyone seem so rushed, so hurried, talking on their cell phones, running in expensive high heels, lugging their heavy Louis Vuitton suitcases? Why did a cup of coffee cost $5 instead of s/5 (1 sol is equal to about 30¢)? Why did I have to speak English to everyone?

I think about Peru almost constantly. I miss being there, waking up in the morning to look at the mist upon Chicón glacier, walking through the busy market at midday, conversing with my family over soup and a second every lunch while commenting on the antics of Laura on Lima Limón and waiting anxiously to find out who won Miss Cumbia 2009 while disparaging it nonetheless, wandering through the Plaza de Armas with my friends, building stoves in Yucay and then following it up with several big glasses of amazing juice from the juice lady, playing with my hermanita, Killary, at home just to watch her break out in an amazingly lit smile, waiting anxiously in the market around 6 for churro man to appear, making occasional forays into Cusco that left us overly stuffed with American-style food from Jacks and exhausted, dodging motos, walking the pista to Spanish class, laughing around an amazing plate of comotoe chips or guacamole or potato wedges until late at night at the Muse with an amazing mixture of Germans, Peruvians, and Americans, at least two languages always going at once. My experience in Peru was absolutely spectacular and I could have asked for nothing better. The perfect combination of people in a beautiful, interesting, and unique place that I was lucky to call my home for three months.

Some little differences or things that I have noted about being home.
-I still think in Spanish, and sometimes expressions or words I use often come to my mind and/or lips first in Spanish and I really have to think about the English translation
-Everything needs to be more spicy and salty. As I have not yet managed to find ají here, I'm finding cayenne pepper a passable substitute for my soups and any bland dish that seems to need extra help. And if I eat cheese, it's only pepper jack
-When I meet people, I find myself automatically moving towards them to give them the customary kiss-on-the-cheek that Peruvians do. Upon entering a room, Peruvians greet each other this way. By the end of my time in Peru, all us Americans did it to each other upon entering a room without even thinking about it
-I find myself having to turn down the heat on my shower because I am so used to the Urubamba lukewarm showers
-I still hesitate before crossing the street, even if the cars I'm crossing in front of have a red light, for fear they won't obey and will run me over
-I feel strange when cars follow the road signs (especially posted speed limits), there are seatbelts in the back seats, and cars don't just drive on the left side because they feel like it or pass on curves
-I still hesitate about throwing toilet paper down the toilet and look for the little bathroom trash can (Peruvian sewer systems don't take toilet paper)
-I feel hemmed in by too many trees
-I get overwhelmed in supermarkets because they are way too big. And the prices for fruit and vegetables--which often aren't even that amazing--are ridiculous. $6 for 2 avocados?! I could get 3 for like s/5 (about $1.5).
-I am amazed I can eat fruit and vegetables with every meal
-I really miss seeing motos in the street
-Having to drive everywhere seems a sin...everything I could possibly need should be no more than a 15-minute walk from my house
-Doing my own laundry again is strange (almost everyone takes it to a lavandaria or hires someone to wash it in their house. And there are no driers...sometimes there are washing machines).
-In fact, I'm no longer used to doing any household chores (the most my family would do was let me set the table)
-I feel cold almost 24/7. Even if it rains at night, I'm supposed to see the sun during the day!
-Clothing looks much more drab after seeing Quechua women's brightly colored dresses
-I feel like the family should always get back together for lunch

I couldn't have asked for a better first-half-of-bridge-year experience than Peru. It was fun, fulfilling, different, unique, a really special chance to engage myself in another culture and live like them. Not just to experience a country as a tourist (though I did some of that, making sure I saw Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca, along with the other Inca ruins in the Sacred Valley), but to really get to know the place and understand the people. I am proud now to call myself an Urubambina and a Cusqueña...to feel pride in my heart when I see the baby blue flag of Urubamba or the rainbow flag of Cusco province. They say that home is where the heart is, and now Peru and Urubamba have taken some of my heart and I am proud to call it my home. ¡Hasta pronto, Urubamba! Cuídate, eres buenazo, un lugar muy chévere.

You Know You've Lived in Urubamba When...





{{...porque al fondo hay sitio}}

• You can distinguish between the sound of an oncoming moto and combi to a) know how far to move out of the street and b) know whether to stick your hand out for a ride
• Paying more than 20 soles for a meal is murder
• You dread breaking 100 sole notes…50s get a sigh, and even 20s are bad in the market
• You can sleep through the early morning chorus of barking dogs and moto horns without a problem
• You have almost been hit by a moto or combi more times than you can count
• You don’t flinch at the sound of horns
• You’re not afraid if a combi whizzes past your shoulder
• A plate doesn’t look complete without at least two forms of starch: potatoes, rice, yucca, pasta, and bread
• You can’t eat your pizza without salsa de rocotto, extra oregano, and creamy garlic sauce
• You think that potatoes taste much better with ají and mayo
• In fact, anything that’s bland tastes better with ají
• You think it’s strange not to carry a coat with you at all times—even when it’s hot and sunny
• You know that “ahorita” means anything between “right now” and “sometime tomorrow”
• You think you should only ever have to pay 1 sol to go anywhere in Urubamba
• Only psychedelic motos with bright, flashy, crazy lights are cool enough to be ridden in at night
• You’ve memorized the songs for Gloria, Soy Vida, Coca-Cola, Ayudín, Brahma, and every other product with a commercial and find them stuck in your head 24/7
• Songs for telenovelas like “La Tormenta”, “Al Fondo Hay Sitio”, “Niños Ricos, Pobres Padres”, “El Diablo”, “Un Gancho Al Corazón” also come to your head 24/7
• You always drink your Cusqueña, but can’t stand Pilsen or Cristal
• You know to take a shower before 8 p.m. because the water turns off in Urubamba at night and know only cold Urubamba showers have high water pressure
• Adding “ito/ita” to any adjective makes it much better
• You find yourself singing along to cumbia songs on the radio
• You revere churro man and wish he were open all day for constant carmel-y churro goodness
• You recognize certain combis and motos by their stickers or signs
• You know that when you start seeing scorpions, rain’s a-coming
• You’ve learned most of your Quechua words from the names of Urubamba hotels
• You know how much anything good costs in Pisac and aren’t afraid to bargain until you get that price—not the gringo price
• Every morning, you love to look upon the mist upon the mountains
• You know that the Muse potato wedges are a food from God and far superior to the Muse yucca fries (and require plenty of ketchup, salsa de rocotto, and that mustard-y sauce)
• You aren't fazed by traveling with a sheep under your seat, a bag of cuy, and a box of chickens in your combi. Tomorrow, you'll probably travel with sheep on top of your combi and a bag of rabbits.
• You both love and hate Cusco

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The Final Goodbyes

Y se llama Perú













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This weekend I had to undertake the difficult and very sad task of saying my final goodbyes to my friends, my family, and Urubamba. All last week I dreaded my upcoming goodbyes and tried to take advantage of every last moment in Urubamba. I lingered over meals with my family, sat and thought in the Plaza, took lots of photos of everything, did my final stoves work, and visited with my friends during every free moment. And don't forget pack...the great ordeal of leaving any place you have lived for a long time. I borrowed a scale from the ProPeru office and packed and repacked and organized all of my things several times over to make sure I wouldn't have to pay overage charges. I managed success....every one of my bags weighed exactly their limit. Though 8 kilos for a carry on is quite heavy, I can assure you that.

Time behaved strangely my last week, until it was suddenly Wednesday without my even realizing it. Wednesday was my last night with all my friends with the Princeton Bridge Year group, who left early Thursday morning for Lima and Trujillo. That night there was a big party at The Muse, one of our favorite restaurants/hangouts, because it was moving to Cusco to make more money (the owner wanted to raise all the prices at least 5 soles, which the person who runs it knew no one would ever pay because only volunteers and Peruvians, not tourists, go to The Muse in Urubamba). So I went with David, Brian, Tugce, Agnes, Leah, some of the ProPeru staff, Katie and Mary, several Germans, and a few of our Peruvian friends to give it a last goodbye and celebrate my times with my Princeton friends. It was great fun and a perfect ending to my time with the five of them. The ProPeru staff had us take shots of tequila (my first shot ever), we played pop quiz for the first time and won (good thing we had the germans to help us translate some words for one of the questions!), I ate my last ever plate of potato wedges (though, unfortunately, Maddie wasn't there to enjoy them with me), there was laughter all around with my friends, and we even got a free plate of guacamole, comote chips, and potato wedges to enjoy. The only bad part of the night was the part when my Princeton friends all left bit-by-bit and I had to say goodbye, not knowing when I'll see them next. We're all planning a big reunion in Martha's Vineyard for next fall when we're all over there for college! How much fun will that be...Peru, only in Boston instead. Tugce, Agnes, David, Leah, and Brian were five great people to spend the entirety of my three months and I'm very glad I got to meet them all. Five completely different personalities that all brought something unique and exciting to ProPeru. Working on everything from stoves to a woman's group to after-school-programs to filters to teaching English, bringing so much to all of us. Thank you all for helping to make my experience in Peru wonderful and contributing so much to Urubamba!!

The next few days were a blur of more preparations and packing and quality friend time until the weekend came up. I made sure to spend lots of time with everyone Friday and Saturday in preparation for my early early out Sunday morning. I had my last dinner with Emily and Kusi Thursday night (cinnamon-and-apple pancakes...she is amazing if you want food!!), we went for my last dinner in the Green House and then enjoyed the plaza on Friday night, and then came the final day: Saturday.

I spent the majority of my day with Katie and Mary in Cusco, enjoying my last time navigating the city that we all both love and hate, saying "no" to the last time to the women offering massages, eating my last (spectacular!) veggie burger at Jack's, making my last personal purchase of a scarf at the Artesian Market (leaving me with s/ 20 for my day in Lima with Ònia on Sunday), looking at the waving rainbow Cusco flag in the Plaza de Armas for the last time, riding in my last combi. When I returned I finished my packing until I fit exactly within the limits and enjoyed final quality time with my hermanita, Killary. I also had to say my final goodbyes to Kate, Travis, and Laura, the three of the ProPeru staff with whom I spent the most time and bonded the most. Kate was truly amazing for any problem, concern, or just for a smile; my mom here in Peru. Always there for a hug, sweet, able to help with any problem (if she didn't know the solution she would get on finding out exactly who knew it and get any issue solved), always worried about taking care of you and making sure you were enjoying your time in Urubamba to the fullest. Travis was my stoves leader and one of the funniest people I knew in my time in Urubamba. He made us want to go out for every stoves day, even if it was in Yucay (where he also introduced us to the marvelous juice lady!), and always impressed us with his energy, dedication, and the amazing ways he found to destroy a stove when necessary (pulling the gigantic cloth-wrapped rock through a chimney to create a gigantic hole in the bottom tubo was by far the best). Thank you both for working so hard to make my time working with ProPeru as productive, interesting, and rewarding as it could be and always striving to make changes for the best.

And then, before I knew it, it was nighttime and time for my goodbye party with my friends. It turned out to be my aunt's birthday party as well, so I spent the early evening entrenched in fun final family activities at her restaurant, Pizza Wasi. We all waited anxiously to see the boxing match between the Peruvian star Kina Malpartida and an Englishwoman (Kina won, just like they had all predicted), ate vegetarian pizza (as always, doctored up with ají, rocotto, and the amazing creamy garlic sauce), drank ponche de ava (which is hot pink and actually really good, which I hadn't expected when I looked at it. But my mantra in Peru was to always try everything at least once), and socialized as one big, happy family. But then finally the time came where I had to say my big goodbyes to go for my final night with all of my friends, Germans, Peruvians, and Americans. It was sad hugging every member of my family, people who had dropped by my house for lunch and dinner, people who had come from Cusco for a variety of family birthday parties, my little cousins who, on my first Sunday in Peru, had shown me beautiful trees with orange/pink flowers, made me climb trees with them, and went for bike rides with me. And who knows when I shall see them again? The road through life takes us on a variety of different paths and you never know where you may end up so you can always hope you may come upon someone again, but never know when or in what context. Fortunately, however, my goodbyes to my mom, sister, grandma, and grandpa were able to wait until a little later or it would have been too much at once.

Once I left Pizza Wasi I headed over to Tequila, the biggest indoor space in Urubamba (which isn't saying much) where all of my friends were waiting there to say goodbye to me and many more would stop by later. Germans Larissa, Pancho, Vicky, Sophie, and Marcus, Peruvians Pasu, Nube, Carlos, Franco, Fernando, Arson, Eddie, Jose Luis, and Coqui, Americans Katie and Mary. We all laughed together for the last time, played games together, swapped stories of the last three months in Peru, and took advantage of every last moment we had together to celebrate our friendship. Every one of them has brought something unique and special to my time in Urubamba and without them my experience would have been quite different. It will be hard to see some of these amazing people again, but we have many ways to keep in touch (facebook, skype, email, snail mail) and I'm sure that someday we will find a way to meet up again, even if different countries and a few oceans separate us. But even if we know that in our heads, our hearts couldn't help but constrict and bring not a few tears to all our eyes and extra big squeezes to our hugs as we promised we'd write lots.

The last goodbyes I had to make were among the hardest: my goodbyes to my family. My goodbyes to the people I spent almost every meal with, who watched out for me, took care of me, let me see into their lives and their hearts. My goodbyes to my adorable hermanita Killary, who I had watched grow astoundingly in my three months in Peru, who now laughed when I laughed, smiled when I waved to her or called her name or asked her how she was. My goodbyes to my mom, who, being 26 and close to my age, was more like a friend than a mom, always wanting to chat about my life and her life, always there with a smile and kind words. My goodbyes to my grandma, who cooked every delicious meal I ate in Urubamba, who worried over how much I was eating and if I was wearing sufficient layers to go outside. My goodbyes to my granddad, who always worried about my safety if I went out at night, who was intensely interested in the work that I did with stoves and filters, who joked with me about everything. My Peruvian family--different from my family at home, but same in the way they loved and cared for me.

My experience in Peru was absolutely spectacular and there is nothing I would change about it. I am so fortunate to have been able to spend time in this unique, interesting, diverse country with such a complex culture and history. I know that living in Peru has deeply changed me and I'm proud to call myself an urubambina. Peru has left a stamp on my heart that can never be denied or forgotten and I'm lucky it's there. Thank you, Urubamba, for making the first part of my gap year a success!