My own insanity and its bad coping strategies

How do you handle situations in which you're waiting to find out an outcome that you can't control?

Encourage yourself? Hope for the best? Relax and try not to worry about it? Not. Me.

My strategy is this: Figure out all the possible horrible outcomes, and then start to deal with them preemptively.
For instance, today, when the professor was talking about the midterm grades, this was my internal dialogue:

Oh my gosh, what if I failed? I don't fail things! It's over. I've failed.

What if I got like a 4 out of 20? Okay, okay, so I got a 4. I could still work harder on the final and the final project and bring my grade up to a C. This is a pass/fail class, not even in my GPA.

But what if grad schools can still see the C? NYU Steinhardt and Columbia Teacher's college ... They might think I slacked off while abroad! No no, I'll just do better in my other classes. They'll just think I challenged myself.

But what if I fail the whole class completely? All right, I have an extra space in my schedule. I can still graduate on time.

And then what if I don't get scholarships to grad schools? Does that mean I can't go to the schools I want? Well, maybe I still get in and just don't get loans. So it costs me a lot more. That's okay.

And then what if I'm paying off student loans until I'm forty? That's okay. I can learn to budget. It will make me thrifty. And that will make me be happy for the things I have and not a greedy money grubber.

See? Everything will be all right.

I swear to you all on my Starbucks addiction that I thought every one of those things while missing the lecture the professor was giving.

And then I got a 13. Since I was already prepared for a 4, a 13 was looking pretty good.

Feel free to use that strategy.

Of course, if you're not me, it might be counterproductive to completely restructure your life every time you can't control something.

Democracy and governors and guns

After much hopeful campaigning and treacherous mudslinging, Peru at long last has a new president elect: Ollanta Humala. And whatever your opinion of him, or whether or not you have an opinion of him, or have even heard of him at all, he was elected by the people in a fair democratic election.

And I helped make that happen. Rarely can I say anything with such genuine pride.

Last weekend, election weekend, (since I couldn't go out wild partying due to the dry law anyway) I helped with a mission of the Organizacion de Estados Americanos, or the Organization of American States, which, among other things, monitors elections in member states.

I was an "International Observer," which basically meant that I was assigned a district and a voting booth to...observe... and fill out charts about. So I went around awkwardly watching and taking notes and just generally making people alternately very nervous or very assured that someone cared to make things run smoothly and fairly. I don't know which was the prevailing sentiment.

Y'all know that I'm no fan of politics, but I am in fact a fan of democracy. And it was awesome to see the most basic process of democracy in action.

Plus, they paid well chickadees. Like, recontra well. Like, more money than I'll make in a few weeks of back-breaking menial jobs this summer well.

Not to mention that I met lots of amazingly interesting, odd, and inspiring people from all over the world: Chile, Paraguay, Canada, Belgium, Spain, etc. And former governor of New Mexico Bill Richardson. (Maybe that should have been more exciting? I was way more interested in the other folks, to be honest, and a little indifferent where the governor was concerned. Shhh.)

One drawback: The guns. The army was there, and they had huge guns. The Peruvians seemed all blase about it. I was freaked out. Which I suppose says a lot about the relative stability and advantages I've been lucky to live with in the states.

And then one of the Peruvian soldiers, with the gun, asked me for my number to go out sometime. Which I had not expected. Because I apparently continue to defy the saying "Live and learn."

'Twas a weekend to remember, without a doubt.

And possibly, a weekend to repeat? Some lucky people travel the world like this on a regular basis. I'm definitely sending an email to the coordinator with something to the effect of "Put me in coach!"


I'm afraid I got literally no pictures while on the job. Sadly, not even of me in the rocking vests they gave us. Professionalism, forgetfulism, and all that stuff. But they did give us a lovely show on the first night:

Tired of my yellow walls in the top picture yet? Not me!

Two truths and a lie

Which one, which one?

1. This bottle opener is on the back of a keychain for the new "informed vote" campaign...for your own especial home use while the Dry Law is in effect over the voting weekend. Because whatever's in that bottle will definitely sharpen your judgement.

2. This two different versions of the same side of the "nuevo sol." I love new coins! Although, you'd think they'd want it to resemble the old one a little more?

3. The image that they're going to use for a new gay rights campaign in Lima.... because Peruvians of course use the star rather than the heart as a symbol of love.


I like this game. I should put out a more serious edition of it some time.

Oh cruel fates!

Who will very soon forcibly oust me from the country by means of an already bought plane ticket...

I'm okay with that. Really. You do what you gotta do.

But please, send me to Buenos Aires! Send me to Asuncion. Send me to Montevideo or Santiago or Bogota.

Por favor, no me mandes back to the states.

Dear Reader, tomorrow I will probably be dying to go back. And you will have to hear about it. Tough luck.

Buenos Aires, City of the Beautiful People

City of the green spaces and the clean streets and the changing leaves. City of the pink palaces and the stately-looking cathedrals and modern high rises. Of "desachzuno" and "decime" and "chzo me chzamo." Of city buses and pedestrians and subways. Of European architecture and Italian food and Paraguayan immigrants.

Somehow, despite my country heritage, my genes, my upbringing, and my previous life experience, I am a city girl. But all cities are not created equal.

And I've always believed firmly that New York City is the city, my city. See here. Every time I set foot in it, the moment moment I enter Grand Central, I heave a huge sigh of pleasure, and often tell whomever I happen to be with that "I belong here!" The life, the fun, the pain, the heart there. I've never been sure that I would spend a lifetime there, but I've always wanted to say, at least for a time, that it was home.

I've also often said that I could not see myself settling down anywhere but the states. Sure, I could spend awhile, a few years, in a different country, but forever? Not me. I've gotten comfortable in Lima, but I don't think I could stay here. And I think I kind of projected that onto all cities outside of the states: not here, so not there either.

But I have to tell you chickadees, Buenos Aires is completely enchanting. It really swept me off my feet for four days. And though I won't say anything rash, it's thrown into question both of the above statements. New York still has a special place in my heart, but maybe it isn't the only city of my dreams. Maybe the U.S. isn't the only place I could call my permanent home. Maybe I'm more flexible than I think I am.

Minds change. Mine does frequently. But right now I feel desperate to not be done with Latin America when I leave in a month or so. To at the very least not be done getting to know different cultures.








According to the cute Uruguayan I sat next to on the plane ride in, and may have talked to for the entire four hours, Buenos Aires has nothing on Montevideo. Next stop?

Fun with Titles = Cosas que no tienen sentido

Last night I went out to see Agua Para Elefantes, or Water for Elephants, in theaters with my host sister. (Yes, yes, I'm sure it came out ages ago in the states.) I give the movie itself an "enjoyable but not very original" rating. It was adapted from a book, which I haven't read, but even so I kept thinking, "That probably made more sense on paper."

But here's something refreshing about the movie: The title in Spanish is a direct translation from the title in English!

What a concept.

No one seems to know why, but movies constantly change titles when making the switch to the Spanish-speaking world. (Probably the non English-speaking world over. Can anyone else speak to that?)

Some confusing ones I've run across:

Big Momma: Like Father Like Son = Mi abuela es un peligro or My Grandma is a Danger. Clearly, there was no attempt here to even get the idea of the original title. Is the grandma in this movie really a danger? Make it a little more literal for me, please. (I would like to go on record as having not watched this movie or any of its predecessors. You can't see, so I'll tell you that I'm wearing my disdainful look mixed with my snooty look right now.)

Sunset Boulevard = Crepusculo de los dioses or Twilight of the Gods.

I think here they must be trying to make the metaphor the original street name is driving at a little more obvious. Did they think that no one else could figure it out or something?

I Spit on Your Grave = Dulce venganza or Sweet Revenge

Maybe spitting on someone's grave doesn't have the same meaning in some Latin American countries? P.S. This movie looks absolutely traumatizing. I'm beside myself to come up with a reason that anyone would want to see it.

The Kids Are All Right = Los ninos tienen la razon or The Kids Are Right.

Not exactly the same. Actually, not at all the same. To be fair, I only saw this title on some pirated DVDs. It's possible that it actually premiered here as Los ninos estan bien, the direct translation, as I've found on some internet sites.

The Joneses = Amor por contrato or Love for Hire.

Granted, given the plot of this movie, the family's last name is referring to the saying "keeping up with the Joneses." But even if they couldn't bear for the title to be a plain old last name for Spanish-speakers, could they at least make it something that was not a spoiler? Even IMBD doesn't tell you as much as this title does! (And now I did...whoops.)

Who makes these decisions anyway? And what the heck are their thought processes?

There must be thought processes, right?




P.S. Fun with Titles = Cosas que no tienen sentido or Things that don't make sense

Sorry about the spacing. Firefox doesn't believe I am who I say I am, and internet explorer apparently has a very stubborn streak about ample white noise between thoughts....to reflect, as it were.

Almost eight months

That's the time put together that I've spent living in Lima now.

And actually, the number itself seems a little too, well, pathetically small to encompass all that I've seen and learned and felt here. Although I suppose, as any pregnant woman will tell you, anything and everything can change in eight months.

But in the everyday of it all, I sometimes begins to feel a little more like nothing's changed.

So here's a bit of an update for you and a reminder for me.

Things in Lima that used to bother me but now don't :

Huge spoons and thin napkins. Why are the spoons here so much larger, you ask? It is a mystery. Why are spoons in the states so small?

The increased amount of service people...everywhere. Like on campus, there is constantly workers sweeping the paths. Which at first seemed like overkill. But now I say, "Hey, there are lots of people in Lima who need jobs! Why not keep the walk so clean you could eat off it?"

Constantly greeting and saying goodbye to people with a kiss. The kiss part didn't bother me, just the constant part. Talk to someone for two minutes and you're expected to saludar and despedir them. Now I don't mind. In fact, the little hand wave American thing's a little awkward.

The dirt. I think it must still be above-average dirty in this city, because I remember thinking it was so at the beginning. I haven't thought about it in awhile.

Things that used to bother me a lot, and now only do a little:

Throwing toilet paper in the waste basket. I occasionally felt slight panic in restrooms in the states. No trash in here! Where will I...? Oh.

Professors showing up 20 minutes late for class every day. Only really bothers me when they keep you 10 minutes late afterward.

Models on billboards looking nothing like most Peruvians. I remember this being one of the most shocking things in my first couple weeks: almost exclusively white people in advertisements, almost exclusively nonwhite in the streets below. Now that I've filled in a little of the background info, I don't really think about it on a daily basis. Still a bit sad though. (I could extend this to a lot of the signs of Western culture influence here.)

Cobradores yelling at me to got on the streets to get in their micros. I'm going to change my mind about where I'm going, but hey it's just their job.

Things that still bother me:

The lack of apologies. If you cause my coffee maker to be broken, or eat all my cookies without asking, or show up 20 minutes late, I do expect you to acknowledge your culpability.

The lack of line etiquette. I've already discussed this. I'm just too much of a wimp for Peruvian lines, although I have gotten better.

The lack of rain. Oh how I long for a good rainstorm!

The lack of heaters in the cold! Is there anyone living in Lima who wouldn't like heating, I ask?



Those are the things that are occurring to me at this moment. But I think/hope/pray that I've learned many more, and that I've not quite finished.