Things have certainly improved over the last week or so, but nothing will ever be quite the same. Yesterday, as I walked out of the community center to retrieve the afternoon snack the children are given after homework, my heart nearly stopped. It was the same scene all over again. There was 50 people crowded around the pedestrian crossing, and a bus from the line I ride on everyday parked in the driveway leading to the center. Oh no, I thought, not again. It was too similar a scene to believe that it could be anything else but another accident. But, it was simply a gathering of loved ones paying respects to the young girl and the location in which she was killed.

I feel like I cannot escape death here. Everyday I go running, I smell the stench of rotting carcases of dogs. There is almost always a new dead dog somewhere along the sandy path that hugs the closely knitted fields of corn, potatoes, onions, and other essentials here. There are always new bags full of trash strewn everywhere. Not a single day will pass without me seeing someone throw trash on the ground without a thought, even in the presence of others, and even on community owned property. No one seems to care.

Fortunately, there are people in this world who do care. I visited the office of an organization I would like to work with, roughly translated as the association which specializes in sustainable development. The modest office was located in what looked to be a house. Unbelievably enough, it´s on the same line I take everyday, so it wasn´t too troublesome to find, thanks to a very friendly taxi driver who even went up to the door with me to make sure I was at the right place. I spoke to two people who work in the office-a woman named Christiam, and a man named Jose. Jose spoke most of the time, just explaining the projects, what AEDES does, and where they are located. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that they are working in three areas. Their first place, which they have been working with for 14 years, is the most soundly impacted. They have organic agriculture, product exportation, young student projects and education, and other biodiversity and natural resource conversation. So amazing! They have now started in two other areas, in Puno and Condesuyos (large provinces in Southern Peru) as well as the original in La Union in South Western Peru. They are replicating their projects. It is actually working. And it is not solely lead by extranjeros, either.

The trouble, for me, lies in my commitment to INTIWAWA, and pull I feel towards getting at least a feel for this project. I told them I could at least commit to a week (they had said 6 weeks is a very short time, which is all I have left). It is twelve hours by bus to Cotahuasi, in La Union. I believe I have to take two buses, the second of which, for 5 hours, is nothing but turbulent travel. But, if I stay for a week, by the end of the week, I hope I will have forgotten how horrible the bus ride was, and be alright to get back on! Now that my stomach is feeling better, a bus ride doesn´t seem so impossible.

To be a bit more specific, after going to the hospital for a third time (the second of which was only to sit in the waiting area and learn that I was there on the wrong day), the doctor looked at my results, and told me they were all negative. But, he said, he was sure that this is a parasite, as it is common to have negative results even with parasites present. He told me what medicine to get (anti-protozoal) and I was on my way. $10 US later, I had my meds...and the symptoms went away within a few doses. I have to say that I am not completely recovered, though I believe that must be what causes all of my problems. I learned parasites can come not only from water, but from street food as well. Oops. I like the street food. It´s simple, inexpensive, and I feel better buying it than I do walking into some overpriced restaurant while there are street vendors out front barely able to scrape out a living.

Sunday and Monday were filled with excitement and swooning over the children. Sunday was the third birthday of the annexation and association of San Isidro from a larger entity. We arrived around 9 with a box full of 120 ham cheese lettuce and mustard sandwiches we had made for the children. We roamed around, as nothing was happening, hung out with some of boys we work with who are always roudy and causing trouble. They were sitting around like a bunch of old men. We joined them, and we all just made fun of each other.

I kept being reminded by the one volunteer that according to the people, last year was way better, there were more people, and it was more organized. I wanted to be satisified with whatever I was about to experience. 18 year old boys get really annoying sometimes. We saw two poorly played soccer games and 5 traditional dances performed by our very own ninos. I felt like a proud parent, welling up with tears, so see how adorable and innocent they looked doing their dances in brighly colored glistening costumes which were surely hot, uncomfortable, and ill-fitted. They all have a story to them, which is generally about daily Peruvian life, mostly flirting, drinking, and being merry. I was so proud of them. I am reminded how diverse the mind is. Some of these children find it impossible to do, but they can dance. They can remember the moves, who to link arms with, where to go. I have to say that I think I might be better at homework than dancing!

Monday, after spending several miserable hours in the post office waiting for my package my Mom sent, I headed over to a really beautiful gallery in the Spanish colonial tradition white stone building with high domed ceilings, with a central stone square to host events and a small, really neat museum mostly featuring massive machines to make molded metal plates with letters on them, ultimately to print newspapers. Normally, with a little imagination, I can understand Spanish on paper better than spoken. This time, I could hardly understand a word. It was mostly technicaly language. I relied on the pictures, the actually machines, and the progression of products created by these machiens on display. So the point of me being there was not to see the museum, but to help set up for what was essentially an opening of the display of the mothers´of San Isidro´s knitting and crochet work. Scarves, children´s clothes, women´s sweaters, hats. Really extensive handi-work, I thought. Most everything did not fit me, as one can imagine. We started hanging signs, photos, and the actual work around 9. The event did not start until 5pm. Myself and a Peruvian volunteer who is new went out for lunch in the center. After some confusion, we ended up at a Chinese food restaurant which looked just like the ones at home. I tried Arequipenan soda, which tasted like cherry soda. Estiv was very proud of the Arequipenan-ness of it. This is a common sentiment here. The regions pride is really intense. He even told me how ridiculous he thought it was that Lima is the capital of Peru, and not Arequipa. Wow. We talked about sustainable development among other things over two somewhat standard Chinese dishes that were more expensive than the faster-food Chinese restaurants that are everywhere, where the food is still cooked fresh, and you can actually watch them make it. I think we were paying for the fish tank and the nice white table clothes. I suppose we call that atmosphere! It was really a nice change from tamales and empanadas that I eat almost every day because it only costs between 30 and 60 cents to fill my belly. This was a whopping $3! Wow!

Once we returned, the chairs had already been set up (our assigned job, oops). We had to rearrange them anyway to make more room for the dancers. After some waiting, rearranging and putzing around, over 50 children, and more than 10 mothers with their youngest children came by bus with some of our volunteers. Someone was to have arranged a combi solely for INTIWAWA, but that didn´t work out. This was a publically available bus. There are only about 25 seats on these busses! I never imagined that many people could fit on one bus. They told me how squished they were, but they arrived smiling and excited to be in the city and surrounded by people excited to see them perform. We saw three of the traditional dances they had performed on Sunday in the same outfits. It was really great to see them so up close. We passed out strawberry Pisco drinks to the adults, and soda to the kids. There were mini appetizers, and then everyone dispersed to see the exhibition. Everyone was pleased, the kids chased and pushed each other around, and everyone seemed to have a great time. We finally cleaned up and closed the doors around 7-30. It was a long day. I will try my best to post some pictures I took on someone else´s camera. My camera is kaput now. It eats batteries in only 20 minutes.

Last but not least, last night, I went to the massive convent of Santa Catalina. It is a small village encased in high stone walls. It´s beautiful kept, with huge red geraniums everywhere. It´s one of the few plants that grows in this intense sun. I went with a room mate of mine, Carolin, from Germany. We had fun poking our heads into the dark rooms lit only by a single candle, an oil lantern or a fire in the stone stoves used for cooking. We saw the quarters of the nuns and their servants. Most of the grounds are open to the public, and are simply something like a museum now. The furniture is beautiful, old, and often ornate. This particular convent was deemed excessively corrupt at some point. There were several bishops or popes who had come to reinvent the wheel, allowing only 1 servant per nun. The ceilings were high, the beds uncomfortable, but the place was spacious. My favorite part was an aquifer which poured water into huge ceramic urns laid on their sids, split in half, placed to collect water for washing clothes. My second favorite thing was the water purification system. They had a huge ceramic or stone bowl more than an inch thick, filled with water, and a bowl underneath to collect the water that dripped down. No moving parts, no chemicals, only pure genius! Just like an underground aqufier, the water takes so long to drip through the thick, semi pourous material, that by the end, it is fit to drink.

I learned a great deal about Santa Catalina herself, a devoted nun, of course. These women lived very intensely devout lives, mostly restricted from the outside world except to exchange some goods through either slatted windows or one tiny little entrance where a market could be set up. We spent two hours going through all the little rooms. Many of the women entered into the convent at my age or younger, never to see their families or friends again. Some did see theirs only after people sought refuge there from the devastation of earthquakes. Really fascinating stuff. But what I am more interested, I think, is seeing some more indigenous Ruins. The Spanish really had it good, invading Peru. Perhaps I will see more.