New Love, Familiar Medium

Time, something I’m always trying to quantify in different ways, seems to stay on my mind with being so far away from everything I know and love. I guess I didn’t realize how much the expectation of leaving in a couple days versus leaving in two weeks affected me, but with each day is an opportunity to work towards something and more importantly appreciate something new. Instead of quantifying this experience in days, projects, or tasks to be completed I try to retrain myself to not measure in numbers but in experiences, emotions, or even changes in perception. Most notably the thing I’m most focused on at the moment is appreciating the incredible people I have been fortunate enough to share this experience with.

As I see a majority of the people I’ve grown to love and care about prepare for there final days here I think about my final days, my final reflection, and what I want it to mean to me. Even though this is the later half of my stay in Peru I feel another part of me waking up to this experience, another part of me growing rapidly, eager to let loose, explore and push my limits both physically and mentally. Some people may think it’s a little late, a little too far into a new experience to suddenly have this change or revelation but it wasn’t sudden, much like me. it was growing, manifesting in ways to bring me to this point of change, this point where I want to stretch the threads of this blanket of an experience.

As much as I sense the positivity in this atmosphere I question if the people I aim to serve are really looking at my efforts, my talents with reserved perceptions. Sometimes I’m discouraged at the thought of what others, specifically my professional superiors, could really be thinking, I guess I am my own worst enemy. Those brief experiences when I’m my own worst enemy occur in the most solitary of moments alone when my mind is a little too free to wonder, to speculate. Luckily for me the moment the sun hits my skin its warmth washes me in new perspective, in a new day, with new opportunities to prove myself good enough or to prove that these doubts are only self-critical thoughts.

I cooked dinner for my family this week, while it was a simple fried chicken breast accompanied by one of my baked pasta creations it took me back to the days of working at the restaurant. Having to cut the chicken breast away from the bone and then filet them for a quick fry it was reminiscently therapeutic. My host mom was surprised at my bartering skills in the market; I thought it was actually funny because I was expecting her to be more helpful. Although I know I come from a slightly wealthier family I expected her to be a bit frugal, or at least haggle a little. Instead, while I was cheese shopping she offered to help pay for some of the ingredients, but as someone with a great sense of pride in presenting a meal I controlled every aspect of, I wouldn’t allow her to spend a Centimo (the local coin).

After impressing her with some bartering skills I hope I continued to surprise her with my culinary prowess. She admitted to expecting my food to be bland, and very simple. Apparently the last volunteer whom prepared dinner left a less than hopeful taste in her mouth of how American food tastes. Nevertheless, I’m not sure if it was my host dad telling me to put up an extra plate for his breakfast tomorrow, or my host mom having three plates of food, but somehow I felt really good about the meal I prepared and was sure that everyone enjoyed it in some capacity. I look foreword to bonding with my family more and having more exchanges on the local cuisine with my host mother, as I’m starting to realize the saying the way to anyone’s heart is through their stomach, applies to more than Americans.

With much anxiety for a new experience in the same place

Mateo