Awkward+Awesome: War Zone

So today was the big Carnaval parade in Cajamarca. Since it would take forever to give you all the details, allow me to direct you for Abigail’s full-length amazing coverage here.

But for just a few bits of excitement, continue onward. Also, forgive me for having  no pictures of the amazing things that I’m going to try and describe to you, because bringing a camera to this event would have been suicidal.

Awesome: The world’s most extreme water fight in the entire world. Water balloons, guns, buckets EVERYWHERE.

Awkward: Being in a group of 5 gringos in the midst of THOUSANDS of Peruvians who love nothing more than to see a white girl cry.

Awesome: Bringing a bit of our own ammo to throw right back at them and learning how to properly tie and fill a water balloon. Seriously, it’s an art here. I thought I was pretty good at filling balloons until I met these kids. You fill them and then push all the water down so that it’s a really tight balloon and will explode on contact, and then you tie it a special way.

Awkward: This awesome way of tying balloons makes them hurt SO much when they hit you! 

Awesome: Being SO popular. Everywhere we go, “Gringas! Gringas! Hello! Good Morning!”

Awkward: When they say, GET THE GRINGAS and announce to everyone who can hear that unarmed Gringas are rapidly approaching. At one point  I yelled, “No! Soy Peruana!” (I’m sure they got a kick out of that one).

And confession: After my face had taken a beating, I got scared and would sprint through the scary parts, making myself a gringa alone and unarmed. The people loved this and would get ready to throw, but I’d yell, “Wait, there are lots more gringas coming! Save your balloons!!! Haha it didn’t really work…but it was worth a shot!

Awesome: Getting shot at with water guns. Seriously, this was a welcome attack because it meant that we weren’t being pelted at with fierce, hard, hurtful balloons.

Awkward: Being hit from balloons come from the top of five story buildings. You can’t see it coming and the force is EXTREME.

Awkward: Being two heads taller than the average person walking down the street. My face will never be the same. It took hit after hit after hit. And when they get the back of your neck….OUUUUUCH!

Awesome: Sitting down and watching other people get hit. It still made me cringe to watch people get hit because I know what kind of pain they’re going through…but oh baby it was funny to watch them get hit out of nowhere and look around in confusion.

Awesome: Watching a man come kiss a woman hello, and the moment they kiss, both of their faces are pelted with one big fatty water balloon. Oh, I died.

Awkward: Having nowhere to watch the actual parade because no body wants to sit by a group of gringo water magnets

Awesome: Having a group of drunk Peruvians invite us to go stand on top of their rickety, about to fall over pick-up truck.

Awesome: Actually taking up their offer and watching the parade in quite possibly the most dangerous way possible. 5 super tall white people standing on a truck with drunk Peruvians… pretty much we were wearing a “Hey, in case we’re not wet enough, please hit us again…and again and again!” and hit we were.

Awesome: I seriously had so much fun. It was fun sprinting down the street trying (and failing) to make it by the big crowds without being hit. It was fun trying to catch the balloons that were thrown at us. It was fun being with our friends, it was fun seeing awesome floats and it was just fun being in Peru.

Awkward: Trying to get home and passing at least 10 men who were relieving themselves in all sorts of public places and then realizing that we’re walking in that the whole way home. I guess that’s what you get when you mix a bunch of beer and no public restrooms.

Awkward: The pain. I know I’ve gone over how bad we got hurt. But take how bad you think it hurt…then multiply it by 84.

Awesome: The fact that we have the best friends family in Peru ever. Liz and Miguel and Aleksi have been incredible to us and cease to amaze us with their kindness. Before and After the parade Miguel’s mom, Momita fed us SO much and it was SO good! Also, since we were soaked and freezing cold, Liz, Miguel and Aleksi all brought out practically every dry article of clothing they owned and let us change into them. Seriously, some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. We are so blessed!

Well, I can say that I’ve survived Carnaval in Cajamarca (except for the fact that the parties continue to go on all month…so there will be more to survive), I can’t say that I’d want to do it again anytime soon, but don’t regret going one single bit!

Sporting Liz, Miguel and Aleksi's clothing!!

When I get home I can teach you the Peruvian art form of water balloon tying, and you’re life will never be the same again J

A Picture's Worth 10,000 Spores

 Ok so here’s the full scoop (kind of) on the mold story.  Here’s the reason we’ve evacuated our second story (where we live) and are being threatened to leave our lovely town to go to a strange new Peruvian city several hours away (ahhhh even just typing it breaks my heart!)

So when we first moved in, we noticed that our ceilings are covered in mold…lots of it. Looking back, we now realize that we were all just in culture shock with absolutely everything that was going on around us, so we thought that ceilings carpeted in mold was just a normal thing in Peru, thus we didn’t think too much about it.

Welcome to our bedroom :)

This is normal right???

 Well last week, we had Peruvians come and see the mold. I was shocked at how shocked they were! “THIS IS NOT NORMAL!” they all said and couldn’t believe that we’d been living there for a month.

When Abigail found THIS, we knew we had to do something

We informed headquarters about our living conditions and they were appalled as well. They told us to get out of there at once and that they'd get to work on taking care of it. 

So on the day of the water fight and of the accident, we packed up all of our stuff and moved it downstairs. We went through every article of clothing and everything we owned to check it for mold. I didn’t have too many things go moldy, but Brit and Abigail both had some doozies.  

We invested in cheap masks!

We moved everything into our new bedroom/storage/dining room/living room etc

From much studying and researching on mold, I have found that it is best not to disturb that nasty stuff, because once it gets airborne, you're in for a treat (lungs made of mold). Well it's a good thing I don't know how to communicate that to angry Peruvian men!

Feliciana's husband came in one night while we were sleeping downstairs and was like, "what the...? why are all the gringitas and their junk downstairs?"

So the next morning he comes in and was like, "Uh why is all your stuff downstairs?"
I told him that a man was coming to look at the mold and he kind of flipped out.

Pretty much he said that we didn't even have money for supplies to finish the third floor (which is true) and we surely didn't have money to pay a man to come paint over the mold that is just going to come back with the third floor unfinished (also true). He then proceeds to say that we can take care of the mold ourselves (FALSE!)

Here's where it gets bad. He's saying all this to me while Brit is in Banos and Abby is in the shower. So I'm alone with this angry Peruvian who then takes a BROOM (remember what happened with Feliciana and the broom? Like husband like wife) and starts sweeping the mold off the ceiling and straight into my lungs. Ohhh how I tried not to breathe it in, but it was inevitable because he was going to town.

Shoot, shoot, shoot!! What do I do?

I say, Ok! Yeah thanks! We'll do that later! Tomorrow morning! Al the while I'm praying that I don't die and that he'd just stop and leave.

Eeeek as soon as he left I ran and found my mask and stuck it on and went outside to get fresh air while people looked at me funny.

Anyway, since it's Carnaval and since it's the rainy season, and we're broke, the mold problem probably won't be fixed for quite some time. Eagle-Condor doesn't want us here, because it's super dangerous....so they want to send us to an orphanage all the way down in Trujillo. Which would be super cool if it weren't for the fact that I have made AMAZING friends in Cajamarca, I am madly in love with my kids, I love Puylucana, Banos and Cajamarca so much and the thought of leaving it all so early is seriously heartbreaking.

 I'm pretty sure I'm refusing to go.
Actually i know for a fact I won't go.
I'll find a friend in the ward to stay with or something.
It's going to take a lot more than a house covered in black mold to get me to leave this little bit of heaven I call home.

-Elia

Hurrah For Israel

Have you ever wondered what you’re first instinct/reaction would be if you were to witness an accident? Are you a fighter or a flighter? Would you run to find help or respond to the scene yourself as fast as you could? I’ve often wondered this. I pass out at the sight of blood and even talking about accidents makes me queasy. I am not tough when it comes to this sort of thing. So I’ve often wondered what I’d do if I were to witness an accident of some sort.

Well, on Friday, I found out.

We had just had an awesome water fight to celebrate Carnaval with our kiddos. (If you haven’t yet, read about it here first, it might make this post make a bit more sense)

Well at three o clock, after much chasing, chucking, and ducking for cover, I was cold, wet, tired and ready to end this fiesta.  Of course the kids weren’t. I retreated upstairs and watched the kids continue to battle it out from the window on my second floor. Feliciana and Melchora were also watching from a window in a different room. 

Israel is an adorable kiddo with a big smile, a big heart and a little bit of mischief mixed in there. He was on Ricardo’s team for the water fight, determined to not leave a single dry square inch on my body.

This is my Fierce Israel

Israel (the lion in the middle) with his Camo brother Lazaro and his spiderman neighbor Reuban

I painted all of Israel's siblings faces. This is four of the 8 in their family

He had taken his shirt off and was standing on the ledge of our side walk, laughing in triumph at my retreat.  Ninos were cheering in agreement, and I watched in horror as Israel lost his balance on the ledge and fell backwards off of it and onto who knows what. I knew that there was a 6 or 7 foot drop off, but I wasn’t sure what was on the other side.  I just knew that he had gone straight back off of it.

So here we are. I just witnessed a crisis. My little boy was down. From what I could tell, there were no other adults around.  And…Here’s what I did.

I screamed! Just one, kind of short, scream.

Then I ran.

I sprinted down the hallway, literally flew down the stairs, taking 3 or 4 at a time, flung the door open, sprinted across the road and found a path down to where Israel had fallen, not knowing what I was going to find. It didn’t really pass through my mind that he could be unconscious or dead, I just knew I had to get down there and do something.

I found Israel on the ground, his body contorted, conscious and crying hysterically (THANK GOODNESS!). His legs were underneath him and he was holding his left arm in pain. I looked up to the group of people standing up on the ledge looking down on us.  All my ninos had gathered round and I found Melchora’s face in the crowd. Desperate for help, I yelled out, “What do I do?”. Of course, no one answered me (I spoke in English) and at that point Aleksi had rushed down and was by my side with Israel.

I knew that you weren’t supposed to move bodies when there was a chance of broken bones until there was a trained professional there, so I was hesitant. And then it hit me, “Hello Noelle. You are in the tiniest little city in Peru, and the closest hospital is 30+ minutes away, and even if we could get someone to help him, Israel comes from a family of 8 children. They are as poor as poor can be and could not afford the medical bills, doctor visit, let alone the bus ride up there. How on earth is this going to work out?”

Aleksi and I carefully lifted Israel out of the trench and carried him up the hill and back up to the sidewalk. Ricardo (who had been off with his devious team, plotting an extreme attack against me….) showed up right then and took Israel from us and brought him inside to lay him on the table.

At that point, Israel was still crying, the kids were following us in a little train and my mind was racing. Ok we have to check his entire body and see what’s hurt the worst, we have to get him warm and dry, we have to make him comfortable, we have to calm him down. I think at this point I got a little bossy (forgive me!) “Abby, can you get a towel and a shirt or jacket?” “Aleksi, Ice and a pillow!”  And then my American’s were gone and I was left in a room full of Peruvians, and a hurt Israel.

And then I witnessed a miracle. 

Ricardo (who speaks English and Spanish, wahoo!!!) was awesome! I knew what had to be done, but I haven’t gotten to the chapter in my Spanish book that talks about accidents or injuries so I had no idea how to express to Israel what I needed him to do or tell me. 

Luckily Ricardo was on the same page and knew exactly how to handle it. We went through Israel’s body, head to every last pinky toe and made sure that he could move it in every plausible direction and that it didn’t hurt.

 I cringed when we got to his legs, expecting the worst. He was scared too and hesitant to move them.  It took some coaxing to let him allow us to bend his knees, rotate his feet and twist his hips. His right hip was really sore and giving him lots of grief, I figure that must’ve hit the ground first. 

His knees: clear. His ankles: clear. His feet: clear. His toes: clear, each and every last little toe.

His tummy: fine His arms: a bit scratched up, but I cleaned those right up with my first aid kit (wahooo Nurse Noelle!). His shoulders: Good as gold. Elbows: working great. His one wrist was in a lot of pain, but from what we could tell, it wasn’t broken. Wahooooo!!!!

Next came the big test, can he walk? Again, he was hesitant to put his weight on his legs and walk by himself, but we were pretty adamant and guess what? He walked like a champ. Yes, it was slow and shaky, but one foot in front of the other, he propelled himself forward.

Oh my goodness, I couldn’t believe it. How was this little boy walking away with only a sore hip, wrist and a scratched up arm? I’ve replayed watching him fall from the window over and over again. From that very instant he fell, I knew that major damage was going to be done.

I tried to count the number of silent and verbal prayers I offered from the moment he fell to the moment Ricardo and I dropped him and his siblings off at his home, but it was impossible. There were prayers offered out of urgency, from confusion, from the need for enlightenment. Countless, “Please let him be ok, please let him be ok.”.  Prayers asking Israel’s pain to subside. Prayers asking for him to be calm and at peace. And finally prayer after prayer of gratitude.

Israel and his brother Lazaro

Thank you so much for the prayers said on my behalf and that of my ninos. As I sat next to Israel while we were checking him for injury, my job was to mainly keep him calm and comfortable. I held him close while he sat up and stroked his head while he laid down. In that moment, I realized that I love these kids so much. I wished so badly that I could trade places with him. I knew that if I had broken an arm or leg, sure it’d stink big time, but I’d manage. I couldn’t stand the thought of one of my kids being seriously hurt. So thank you for keeping them in your prayers because I’d be a mess without them.

Oh I am so grateful that he is ok. Like I said before, these kids are poor, in a way that I don’t think you or I can fully comprehend (at least I know I can’t). I was so scared that he was going to need medical treatment that he simply would never have the opportunity to get.

But he’s safe, he’s well, he’s a little sore, but he’ll be alright. And for that word’s cannot express my joy and gratitude.

Hurrah for Israel, Hurrah for Israel.

P.S. Keep in mind that this was also the day of our Extreme Mold Crisis (blog post coming soon) where we were told we had to pack up and leave THIS instant. Talk about stress!

Picture Perfect Sweet Revenge

This morning I had one of those moments where I just wanted to freeze everything and make that moment last for forever. It was a simple setting, not too exciting but I was just so content. Allow me to paint a picture for you.

I was sitting on the sidewalk outside our front doors, reading my scriptures. It was about 9:15 am and the sun was behaving rather nicely. I had on my shorts and my chacos and was loving basking under the blue skies and inviting sunlight. Occasionally, I would look out into the distance and have my breath taken away by the sheer beauty of the sights that I have seen countless times before. The clouds, the hills, the mountains, the little shack-like homes that were scattered along the mountain side. Ah I live in the most beautiful place.

As if things couldn’t get better, while I sat there studying, I’d hear my name shouted out from the distance. “Elia!” “Elia!” Only to see two of my favorite ninos (Rodrigo y Antony) going about their morning business, but not before they had shouted their good mornings to me.

It was a picture perfect scene…until….

All of a sudden, the 2^nd Nephi Chapter 9 that I was studying right in front of me took a beating with a strong, consistent stream of water pouring onto it. Horrified at the fact that my new scriptures now looked like they had gone for a swim, I looked up to see the little stinker Alvierri standing there with his MegaSquirt Gun 3000X (or something like that).

This is the demon in question.

He looked like he had just gotten up for the morning and was on a mission, his first target being my 2^nd Nephi Chapter 9 and all the surrounding chapters. Ooooo I could have killed that boy (I have a bit of a hard time loving this one) but his father was right there, so I asked him to please stop because this book was special to me and he had just gotten it all wet.

I then gathered my things, and as I was walking through the door, I turned back and said, “Gracias Alvierri”….right before I pelted him with my secret waterballoon. .. not my most mature moment

 He cried, his father laughed.

Although Each time I turn to 2^nd Nephi I will have a constant reminder of that little stinker…. but the  revenge was sweet.

-Elia

Death By Way of Confession

If I happen to die during my time here, I blame it purely on our night of confessions.

I know I’ve mentioned this hundreds of times. But our house is covered in mold. Mainly our ceilings. Black mold, green mold, grey mold, fuzzy mold, And to be honest, it scares me to death! I’ve been reading up/studying it and have found that when you breathe in mold it begins to colonize in your lungs and grow there!  And then I’m sure, shortly after… you die. I also read that you are a bit safer if you don’t disrupt the mold by trying to scrape/scrub it off. Brittany however is just itching to get to work on the ceiling and take off that mold in any way that she can. So I have had to sit her down and make her PINKY PROMISE not to disturb the mold. And she has obliged, because she knows how much I would really love to not die!

This picture does not do it justice. It was taken on our first day here. Since then, it has multiplied 100 fold. No joke.

Anyways, last night was a night to remember (and it will be, because we got it all on video). We were whipping egg whites (by hand) to try and make them into some sort of dessert, but we were not having very much success. So I whipped out my video camera and asked the other girls questions and what not about our time here. While we were talking, Abby let a confession slip. 

We were telling our video diary about the mold, and Brittany was telling it about how I would not let her touch the mold. Then Abby says, “We’ll blame it on Feliciana!” I didn’t really catch on to what was going on until the confession totally slipped out.

Here’s what it is: That morning, Abigail had run upstairs (where our bedrooms are) to grab something and found Feliciana, with a broom in hand, scraping mold off of the ceiling!!! AKA: Horribly disrupting the mold and sending it into the air where it could oh so easily find it’s way right into my lungs!!!!

Abigail was shocked when she saw this and needed to tell somebody, so she told Brittany and made her promise not to tell me. How sweet is that? She knew that I would be totally freaked out if I knew that Feliciana was taking a broom to the moldy ceiling every day! So she didn’t tell me, until it slipped out last night.  Brittany topped it off with her line of the night, “Yeah Noelle, you were going to be saved by ignorance, but now that you know… you’re going to die”

And it was downhill from there. As soon as Abigail’s confession slipped out, Brittany says, “Wait I have one! Yesterday, when I took the chicken out of our fridge for dinner… it dropped all over the floor! But we still ate it!”

Then Abigail replied, “Remember when Pedro gave us those chocolates? Well… I dropped those all over the floor!” And then went on and on from there (most confessions of which cannot be posted here J )

So we’re a bit worse off than I thought we were…but alas, we’re still up and kicking and having a great time!

Also, have I mentioned lately how great Abigail and Brittany are? Cause they are purely amazing. We are 3 COMPLETELY different people. The more we get to know each other and see each other in different situations the more we realize how opposite we are. But the compilation of the three of us is something beautiful. We truly complement each other so nicely.  And I love them!

Safety First

Remember when the only safety rules we had to remember were “look both ways before you cross the street” and “stop, drop and roll”? 

Child’s play I tell you. Childs play.

Today we visited with our first (and only friends, thus far) in Peru. Liz and Miguel. We love them! We walked home from  church with them and then they invited us over for lunch. We brought the chicken, veggies and bread and they cooked up some good ol’ American pasta with ketchup! Anyways we stayed and chatted with them for a couple hours and asked them all sorts of questions that we had (Liz is from Utah and interned here at El Bichito a year ago, met Miguel and got married to him about a month ago).  

Here's what we've learned:

To be afraid, be very afraid.. Just kidding!... kind of.

Thievery: They told us that Peruvians are notorious for being robbers. They are good at it and they are fast! They taught us all sorts of warning signs that we’re about to be robbed and precautions to take so that we are not. It was very helpful but kind of scary to think about. Let’s just say we won’t be carrying around backpacks or purses anymore!

Dogs: We go running every morning, and every morning our dislike for dogs increases 10 fold. Not a day goes by where I don’t see at least 80 dogs. They. Are. Every. Where. Apparently when we moved into El Bichito, we gained custody of two dogs ourselves (Andy and another one whose name I can’t pronounce). Anyways as soon as dogs see us come running, they bark SO viciously and bare their teeth and come at us full force. I’ve heard missionaries tell dog stories like this, but holy cow, when it’s you, it’s the scariest thing in the whole world. I’ve never sprinted so fast out of sheer terror in my entire life (mainly because I know those dogs carry all sorts of diseases and they WILL bite you.)

However, we have learned a new trick that I tried several times on our walk back up the mountain today. You simply yell NO at them and bend over and reach for the ground. They instantly think that you are reaching for a rock to throw at them and will run and hide, yet continue with their obnoxious barking. I have to remind myself everyday that I like dogs, because I’m pretty sure after spending 3 months in Peru… I will never, ever come close to a dog again.

Waterballoons: Yes, we have to even take security precautions against waterballons. We went into Cajamarca yesterday where I swear there was a huge announcement that said, “Hit the Gringa’s as hard as you can!” They were literally pelted at us full force. Abigail took one to the arm and my entire backside was soaked by the time we left. They thought it was soooo fun to chuck them at us and watch us try to scramble for cover. It was actually kind of scary because they really did throw them as hard as they could and from not very far away. How we’re going to avoid those? I know not.

Bad Boys: Miguel loves to use the term “bad boys”. He told us that if we are out after dark, the “bad boys” will come find us and take us away. Or sometimes they stalk women and follow them home, so we need to be wary of that too. He also said that if they say hello to us or whistle that we should not even acknowledge them at all cause that means we’re interested (usually we say Buenos dias or hola… whoops!) Also, side note that I forgot to blog about, probably cause I was still in culture shock, but on our first day here, Hermano Sandro was showing us around the city and while we were waiting for the bus a man came up and asked Hermano Sandro if he could purchase us! The nerve. Bad, bad boys.

Either way, we know the key is to be smart.  We try to be extra cautious and aware of our surroundings when we’re out and about and we’re trying to make friends with the Mormon boys so that they can take us around the city.

Speaking of which…. We’ve decided that there is nothing better than a clean, Peruvian, priesthood holder in a white shirt and tie. 

And that's all I'm going to say... for now :) 

......

 Well and this..

His name is Herman David…  I know, I know, in America, that’s a weird name, but when said by a native, it’s the most beautiful name we’ve ever heard!
Shhh don't tell my dad :)

Sunday's are so fantastic here! We are happy, healthy and having so much fun!