Eden's Peru Dictionary

Eng⋅rish

men⋅u

[ing-rish men-yoo]

–noun

1.	a word puzzle to carefully decipher

2.	a list of typed phrases to humor

Aunt Susan, Grandma, and I were all relieved to find that "all their crudenesses were cleaned of cleansed water."

2 + 2 = 4

As there are no sinks in the art room, cleaning can be quite complicated. Realizing this, I tried to eliminate problems by describing the system well.

Miss Page: As there are two sinks in the girl's bathroom, there should only be two girls in there at a time cleaning their brushes. It's the same with the boys' bathroom.

Student: No it's not the same.

Miss Page: Why not?

Student: Because there are FOUR sinks in the boy's bathroom.

And then I saw where I had lost my count.

If you give an Eden a vacation...

...you know she will ask for a glass of silly mannequin pictures to be taken of her.

More photos can be found here.

Thanks for the socks Dale - well worth the $1.83 you spent on them

Below you can see photos of me proving to the fashion worlds of Cuzco, Pisac, and Machu Picchu that socks are the new chullos of Peru.

Jesus takes care of us wherever we go

While in Cuzco, Aunt Susan and I saw a young man who looked like Jesus. With ratty clothing, long hair, and a beard, and in his early 30’s he was perfect (literally).

Aunt Susan: What would Jesus do? Go to Cuzco. We are doing all right!

Jesus spottings continued throughout our whole Cuzco trip. He even was with us while we were in Machu Picchu. I guess you could say, Jesus was with us every step of the way.

Aunt Susan: Eden! I lost my way in the ruins and then guess who I saw? Jesus!

Me: So you decided to follow Jesus?

Aunt Susan: Yes, I was lost but then I found Jesus

Later, we didn’t know where we were supposed to meet with the tour group.

Me: I wonder where it is…

Aunt Susan: You should ask Jesus.

Me: What?

Aunt Susan: Well, Jesus is right beside you.

I then turned around and looked up to the heavens and guess who was there...

Then Jesus showed me the way.

Mi Abuelita

Only one week ago, I was visiting Cuzco and the famous ruins of Machu Picchu.

Traveling with my grandmother makes a trip much different than traveling with other young people. Here are the reasons why:

1. We soon found how narrow the colonial sidewalks of Cuzco are (see the narrowness pictured below).

As we went on a walk there, we noticed a young backpacker was walking up the sidewalk while we were walking down. Aunt Susan and I stepped off the sidewalk so he could get through but Grandma refused to budge for him, “You’re young! I’m old!” she said, “You should let me have the right of way!”

It was strangely pleasant to watch a thoughtless hippi-backpacker hybrid have practical courtesy forced upon him.

2. While in Cuzco, the City of Incas but also the City of Tourists, we were bombarded by Peruvians trying to sell things to us.

We visited many cathedrals and museums and Grandma, often tired from walking, would find a place to sit down while letting us explore. One time after visiting a church, we found Grandma, tired of people trying to sell her things, giving the sellers a taste of their own medicine.

The sign she created reads "English lessons: 5 soles" (soles = peruvian currency). Peruvians stopped to laugh and I am sure fewer street vendors stopped to pester her. As Aunt Susan said, now we know why Aunt Anne is the way she is.

3. I was surprised to find that grandma isn’t a wall protecting me from creepy Peruvians but a secret passageway for them. She got to know this Quechuan boy on the bus ride and they exchanged emails. He, of course, he wanted my email.

Me: No.

Boy: (extremely unsubtly) So, you have a boyfriend?

Me: (extremely rudely) NO.

Boy: Why not?

Me: Because there are no Americans in Peru.

Grandma: (later that day) Well, I’ll still communicate with him by email but won’t give him yours and I’ll be sure to teach him protestant values and use the internet to translate my email into Spanish…and Quechuan if they have it!

Oh, and here is a photo of the little punk:

Oh what fun it is to ride

My Grandma Denny and Aunt Susan are visiting me in Peru right now. It is very interesting to re-experience Lima culture with them.

Tonight the taxi driver who took us home was a bit more of a crazy driver than Grandma and Aunt had experienced before. He flew through busy intersections and swerved passed slow vehicles as if he owned the streets of Lima.

At one time, we stopped at a red light and our driver pulled the taxi into the green arrow turning lane asking, “So I turn here, no?”

“Well, it’s faster to go straight but it’s too late now,” I responded. But I had forgotten that it is never too late in Lima.

The driver shrugged his shoulders, stepped on the gas and illegally flew around the cars who had waited their turn at the red light.

“Whoops!” said Grandma, and then she and Aunt Susan laughed nervously.

The driver laughed at their reactions, “‘Whoops’? What do you mean ‘whoops?’ Where are you all from?” now realizing they weren’t from around here.

“They are my relatives visiting me from the United States,” I said.

The driver smiled, “They speak wonderful English.”

I laughed, “Yes, they do.”

“So they aren’t used to driving in Lima.”

Aunt Susan then decided to use her Spanish, “Es divertido! (it’s fun!).”

The driver laughed at Aunt Susan’s comment on the traffic being fun just as he was cut off by a huge bus and was forced to swerve to the side of the road, “It’s fun!” he said repeating Aunt Susan’s phrase in a cheerful voice laced with sarcasm.

A car then slammed on his breaks right in front of us forcing us to stop, “Whoops!” the driver said, repeating Grandma’s phrase, then he added, “How fun this is!”

Signs Too Risque for Facebook

Note:

I just finished putting my Huaraz pictures on facebook. Check them out here.

Now, there were some photos which I didn't upload to the facebook album because I am facebook friends with many of those of more delicate natures (i.e. my students) (Ok, now I want you to reread that last sentence as if it were flowing out of the mouth of Mr. Collins himself).

But fortunately, because you read my blog, you are not of that nature and can read on and take a look at the forbidden photos.

Now for the photos.

1. While walking along the streets of Huaraz, we stumbled upon something quite shocking!

Of course we had to ask why on earth the store had that name.

"I don't know," the owner replied, "it just helps us get business I guess because people think the name is weird and then visit our store."

2. While in Yungay, many of us stopped to use the restroom. In the States, you go to the woman's bathroom and signs look like this.

But not in Peru...

An Idiots Guide to Dummies: Second Edition

My obsession has not ended but rather, has been strengthened...

First, because I discovered a new species of creepy mannequins while on my trip to Huaraz...

and second, because I have found someone with the same passion for mannequin pictures as I have.

Everyone...meet Claire!

Together, we make a great posing-with-creepy-mannequins team. 

Between a rock and a hard place

About a month ago, 7 teachers and I went to Huaraz for Semana Santa Break.

One of the best parts about the trip was that after finding this book

many of us attempted to speak in cliches for the rest of the trip. I am as dull as dishwater when it comes to thinking of great lines on the spot, so I missed out on much cliche fun.

At one point in our travels on mountainous roads, our van screeched to a halt behind a row of cars.

Two friends and I jumped at the chance of a possible adventure and asked our driver if we could get out and see what all the fuss was about. He knuckled under and so we went on our merry way.

After a walk we heard manly yells in unison and then saw this:

It was a rock as big as a whale which had rolled out into the middle of the road. The guys did get it enough out of the way that cars could pass. But then that meant we would need to high tail it out of there because now cars were coming. My two friends with me went to the left side of the rock. "They are blocking traffic that way!" I thought, "and there's more than one way to skin a cuy"

(yes we did witness this)

So I decided I would need to walk around the rock. I went on the wrong side of the rock and sunk down all the way down to my knees. It was as clear as mud that I had made a mistake.

It looked worse in real life. But there was no point in crying over spilled milk. I decided to grin and bear it, rolling up half the mud into my capris and washing the other half the mud out at the side of the road.

As luck would have it, a huge truck transporting produce was sitting right next to me the whole time and on top of the truck were a ton of Peruvians who got a kick out of me. "Mira la gringa!/Look at the gringa!" they shouted, pointing and laughing till they cried.

Soon my van pulled up and I beat a hasty retreat.

Moral of the story: Rolling stones gather no moss but they might gather mud.