Rollin' in the dough

It appears that AFSA (the Foreign Service employees' union) just won a resounding victory for its constituency. After years of fighting the State Department, AFSA finally gained a concession and now the State Department will pay its employees at overseas missions a base salary equal to those employees working in Washington, DC.

A little bit of explanation is warranted. There are 8 or 11 (oh, my failing memory!) field offices for Diplomatic Security and each one has a different Cost of Living Allowance (COLA) based on the housing market, commodities, etc. of the city in which the office is located. SO, those employees working in DC, for example, receive their base salary PLUS a 23% COLA (or some other such figure). The same thing used to happen overseas. You would recieve your base salary, plus whatever cost differentials your post merits. (In Baghdad, for example, you would receive your base salary PLUS hardship pay PLUS danger pay...yadda, yadda, yadda.) Since the Lima post differential is pretty low (I think it varies, but I believe it's ranged between 10-15%), Anthony actually receives less money working in Lima than he did working in DC.

But of course, we're still paying a DC mortgage, a DC car loan, etc., etc., so this AFSA win means a lot to us! We might be able to buy a decent set of plates or something with all the new money flowing in! Which would be a great big step up from the 3 dinner plates, 2 salad plates, and 4 cereal bowls we currently have on offer...

Over and over

Many of my friends and family keep asking me how Peru is and I find that my answer is intrinsically linked to my employment status, or rather, unemployment status. Clearly I am not cut out for the Mrs. Cleaver or Paris Hilton lifestyle. In fact, my self-worth is tied up in a complicated idea of independence that starts with gainful employment, the ability to pay my own bills, and employer-sponsored health insurance (a must if, like me, your medical history could fill a few volumes in your own life story's boxed set).

So I inevitably respond that Peru is okay, but I am looking forward to returning to the States. But to me, the idea of returning to the U.S. means that I will be employed and thereby financially independent. I will be able to provide for myself, and purchase those small whatnots at will. Something I am incapable of doing here in Lima - a situation exacerbated by the fact that the majority of my allowance (I'm a realist; I know who brings in the money) must be saved for entertaining my friends and family who come to visit (something I am happy to do, but made none the richer by). I also spend a good chunk of change for birthdays and holidays (or 5-year anniversaries...), so the reality of my life is that I can occasionally afford to buy myself a slice of Hannah's riciiiiiisimo banana pie (at Cafe Arabica here in Lima) and a cup of tea to while away the hours with a few friends.

Therefore, I haven't really experienced Peru as I had hoped to experience it. I had hoped to use Lima as a jumping off point for visiting much of South America, not to mention exploring all the wonders of Peru itself. Yet I find myself counting my pennies and being very selective about where to go and what to do. I suppose it is my nature to be fiscally conservative (again, I thank my mother who I am half-convinced has hidden a half-million dollars under her mattress), as I have been a home-body and a penny-pincher since I first started working at the age of 16, but it is tough to reconcile your expectations with reality. I had hoped to do so much more.

It hasn't helped that much of what I have seen in Peru has failed to awe me. The first few months of living in Peru, I noticed all of the differences between here and home; now, everything is commonplace and Lima has become my reality so the differences have faded into background noise. But in those first few months I was excited, trying new foods, going to new places (in the city at least), taking up new causes, and planning great things for my 2 years here. I was far more animated and motivated by my surroundings.

So I tried new foods. And was disappointed that I didn't like them more. And I tried new places. And found they weren't as wonderful as I was led to believe or that I was too exhausted to enjoy them properly. So I tried to give back to my temporary community by volunteering, and found that it is so difficult to get anything done here that the joy of the work is often leached out of the process. And so I labored even harder at my studies, to finish my degree and get that bright, shiny new job. And that, too, has been anticlimatic, with the poor economy severely hampering my efforts to become employed.

Yet the experience of Peru isn't wholy without merit. I befriended an amazing group of people, and have recently uncovered some of the best eats here in Lima - not too shabby for nearly a year in, I would say.

Now my honest answer to the question of Peru is that it has its ups, and it has its lows. But really, it is all what you make of it. And for me, well, I just need a job.

My new best friend

For being such a good girl and putting up with Anthony for 5 years, not to mention finally graduating from that pesky grad school program, I received an Amazon Kindle. This is what I now reach for to cuddle at night.

My get up and go got up and went

On Saturday I thought it would be a great idea to run 4 miles with my friends Ali and Sarah, who are also participating in an event for the Pacasmayo International Marathon. Sarah was smart and concocted some story about a major ear infection (okay, so she really did have an ear infection), but Ali and I both actually showed up. The mere presence of the other actually compelled us to run.

Ali, of course, waited until after we were done running to inform me that we had run closer to 4.5-5 miles. I had a few reactions to that:

• You (heave in, heave out) bitch (heave in, heave out, keel over from heart attack).
• Seriously? And I didn't die? (yet...)
• I am an old, rusty, worn-out fart.

Since my half-marathon training hasn't gone as planned, I decided to listen to my old creaky limbs and change my run from 13.1 miles to something closer to 6.2 miles. My body is already thanking me, but its considering a change of heart after that run.

All my self-deprecating, old age jokes aside, it was a good run. We stopped a few times - to stretch, to see if Dave was home so we could get Ali's headphones back before he leaves country, and to stop at the LarcoMar mall so I could potty (I blame da' Momma for my miniscule bladder and my inability to hold the pee inside of me) - but we more or less kept moving. At least enough that I felt like it was an accomplishment.

I then amply rewarded myself with a noontime brunch of eggs, bacon, and beveraging (a double capucchino and maracuya juice, anyone?), which was followed by a much needed shower and an afternoon at the movies with Ali.

My hope is that I can keep this up and not bite it when it comes time to run at the actual event. Since Ali is kind enough to pretend that she runs at my slow-ass pace, she has now been nominated to carry the cell phone that she will be using to call an ambulance come the 4th of July weekend.

What happened to May?

I didn't post at all in May and there are 2 really, really good reasons for that:

1. Finals. I passed in my last assignment for grad school on May 10th. So I am all graduated!
2. Visitors. Friends from the States - Celia, Eric and Marilyn - arrived on May 12th and the last of them left on June 1st.

So I celebrated the first by partying with the second - Colorado-style. We traveled to Cuzco for a week, the highlight of which was our trek from some small town outside of Cuzco city, past the peak of Salkantay, and into Machu Picchu.

Mother nature threw everything at us on our hike, from wind, freezing cold and hail, to rain, heat, and high humidity. There were times our trip was distinctly uncomfortable, which included our first night's camp in the shadow of Salkantay peak (the temperature had to be close to freezing; I don't think any of us was warm enough to sleep); the day after the sky opened up and poured torrents on us and all of our clothes and packs were still soaking wet; and the night we spent in a moldy, mildewy, humid hostel in Aguas Calientes. But there were also really wonderful moments that more than made up for the difficulties: like surviving the hike up near Salkantay and reaching my first destination over 15,000 feet (4600 meters, or 15, 092 feet), walking through such beautiful scenery (woods, mountains, an eerie mist-filled "valley", jungle), and finally making it to one of the manmade wonders of the world, Machu Picchu (although the climb up Wayna Picchu nearly killed me - damn you, Incas; you and your freakin' stairs!). Oh, and I mustn't forget the discovery of such wonders as Romeo, so nasty. That one alone kept us going for the whole week...

This first image is of Salkantay peak, taken as I huffed and puffed and nearly had a heart attack climbing up to our first camp site. The altitude and lack of oxygen had me chowing down on coca leaves the whole time, or at least attempting to when I could breathe well enough to chew.


This, of course, was our campsite under the peak of Salkantay. Saying that it was cold is an understatement. I stupidly packed at 5AM for this trip, the day I left, and therefore forgot a few key essentials: a hat, gloves, and a change of underwear. That last item wasn't exactly essential on the first night, but by the time we returned to the city I am sure that even the rural folk could smell me coming.


I look stupid, but that's likely because some of my better brain cells died off due to the altitude. So here I am, vacantly contemplating the pile of stones some other hiker (or potentially a Peruvian just traveling through) created in the hopes of attaining some wish.

Despite the fact that this was the day that it rained on us all afternoon, this was my favorite part of the hike, and not just because we were coming down off of that damn mountain. You can see that we were basically hiking in the clouds, which lent the whole scenery this eerie glow, kind of like the effect you get from dry ice or a fog machine. The rocks and greenery also really reminded me of Ireland. Go figure.

This is what I lovingly refer to as a "banana bush." Marilyn thinks these plants are something right out of The Lorax. Whatever; they're just pretty.

This was our camp the second night - there were actually other people there, amazing! Clearly we were staying on some rural Peruvian's farm, but we were happy because they had an outhouse (an outhouse!). And it was pretty clean, considering how many backpackers were staying there.

This shot is our entire hiking group at some ancient observatory just across the way from Machu Picchu. From l-r: Eric, Marilyn, Luis (our guide), Kasey, Celia, Rachel, and me. We probably look so happy because we actually stopped hiking for more than 10 seconds.

This was supposed to be a picture of us jumping over Machu Picchu, but you really can't see it in the background, now can you? Well, trust me, it's there. It would have been a mere speck, but it was there. And so we just walked down this mountain and up the next one and we were there.

Just a lovely hiking shot.

Watch out for falling rocks.

Finally! Machu Picchu, in the mid-morning sunlight. We had probably already been there at least 4 hours (something about being at the bus stop around 4:45AM to be on the first shuttle up). That pointy looking mountain thing in the background is Wayna Picchu.

Requisite self-portrait - if by self-portrait you mean "Make Marilyn take your picture."

Marilyn, myself, and Celia made it (in glorious fashion) to the top of Wayna Picchu. In the distant background is Machu Picchu. Note that if you turn your computer screen completely upside down, the outline of Machu Picchu is the shape of a condor, an animal that was very important to the Incas.

Also note that a lot of tourists die each year by falling off the top of Wayna Picchu. There is no limit to the number of people up there, other tourists will not move to make room for you, and you are scrambling across open rock. It's not exactly pleasant. Three days after we took this photo, another American tourist fell to his death from there. Luckily for us, all we accomplished was overcoming Marilyn's fear of heights.

No words are needed to describe the joy.

Musings

Sometimes it is difficult for me to internalize the fact that really horrible things are happening in the country in which I live. For those of you in the United States, and particularly those of you livng in DC right now, it might be tough for you to sympathize with the victims of the Holocaust Museum shooting. Part of this is because we're all inured to the violence blasted at us on a daily basis from our televisions screens, but I think more of it has to do with not being physically present at the scene. It's not that we do not care for the people who we see suffering on the nightly news, but I believe we do not feel the full impact without being at the scene (or perhaps without experiencing something similar).

In a like fashion, I find it difficult to fully comprehend the increase in violence that is happening here in Peru. I hear snippets from my friends in Lima or read about what is happening in online news forums, but it's almost not real for me. For example, in northern Peru this past week, there was a violent confrontation between indigenous Peruvians and the police, which resulted in dozens of deaths. Yet the reporting is so clinical, so statistics based. What is missing is basic human emotion, I suppose.

Yet I am so removed from these kinds of occurences while I live in my limeño bubble. The only thing that makes the news a little less removed is seeing the difficulty Anthony has in dealing with the effects of these situations. This week, for example, Anthony created a report for the Ambassador about the situation in northern Peru and he had to edit the number of photos that would accompany the report. The photos contained grisly images of Peruvian police officers hacked to death by machetes. To say the least, they were disturbing to Anthony - I imagine this is the kind of thing that makes a lasting impression on a person (to state the obvious).

For Anthony, I am sure, the reality of what is happening here in Peru is much more personal (and that feeling was only magnified by the discovery of a fetus at nearly 7 months of gestation abandoned on the embassy grounds yesterday). But that is the price that our police officers and security personnel (and military!) around the world pay to help keep us safe. They expose themselves on a regular basis to the atrocities that many of us cannot fathom and likely do not want to face (or recognize as existing) so that we can continue to live in a comfortable bubble of security.

For these reasons and more, I just want to take this moment to acknowledge the worth and dedication of our protectors, from the security guards at the Holocaust Museum and the uniformed police officers in our cities and towns, to the military men and women serving in posts worldwide and (in my case, particularly) the security officers at our embassies.

The bright spot in my day