Song of Peruvian

Dedicated to all who have lived as gringas in a Latino enviroment

Beloved Gringa

¹ Do not stare at me because I am white,
O sons of Lima,
white like the wheat fields of Kansas,
like the hair of Tom Brokow.

Latino Lover

² Que bonita you are, mi angelita!
Ay, que bella.

³ Your eyes are light.
Your hair is like a flock of llamas
descending from the Andes Mountains.

⁴ Your are like the statue of Liberty,
heads taller than anyone you pass on the street,
including me.

Beloved Gringa

⁵ I love it when you sit on the park bench, repeatedly wolf whistling at me,
Each day you are there
Because you are unemployed.

⁶ Your head is like a raven… if the raven is grey and unkempt;
How I long to slide my fingers
through your oily mullet.

⁷ Your shirt, once white, tells of memories
Of searching through garbage cans
And of forgetting appropriate hygiene.

⁸ Your raspy whisper of “Ay que preciosa,” draws me to you
I ignore you, but you know
that I secretly long for your embrace.

⁹ “¿Cual es mi numero de telefono?” I will give it to you gladly
How I long for you to use it to find out where I live,
Do come… come and stalk me.

Latino Lover

¹⁰ I liken you, mi preciosa, to a blonde Hollywood actress
a flirty and ditzy Cameron Diaz or Kate Hudson
who is hungry for my love.

¹¹ I pursue you with the few English words I have memorized
“Baby! Sexy! Hello! ¿Tienes novio?
How impossible it is that you can resist me.

Oh rats!

I recieved this email today:

The poor 1st grader who found the bloated rodent staring up at him...

Quote of the Week: Celu's de Pecado

To give visual context to the story I am about to tell...

...here is the outside of my church:

...and here is the inside:

El Pastor hates cell phones. Last week he took 2 minutes just to make sure everyone had theirs turned off. So, at church today, the inevitable happened.

At the beginning of the sermon, a cheerful little tune began polluting the rooms sound waves. El Pastor immediately stopped his message and turned towards the sound, silent, a frigid stare on his face. Some people, including me, giggled shyly.

El Pastor: Whose cell phone is that?!

Cell Phone Owner: (in silence, reaches into bag to turn off cell phone. Though he is trying not to move an inch of his body so as to remain anonymous, all can see him and El Pastor's eyes narrow at him).

El Pastor: Turn it off now.

After this scene, all over the room, cell-phone-turning-off sounds can be heard.

El Pastor: Anyone else?

One more cell phone-turn-off sound can be heard and then... silence.

El Pastor: (then turns to the owner of the cheerful little tune) You know what? This is sin!

It is more and more obvious to me that I live in a shame culture which pretty much means that people are motivated by fear of being shamed. Most those who read this are from the United States, where people are more motivated because they are afraid of feeling guilt. In reality, we shouldn't be motivated by either shame or guilt but only controlled by the love of Christ and we should motivate one another only towards Him, only through Him. This is something you, I, and Christians everywhere don't do, and we all need to think out the implications of this bit of knowledge.

Still, I applaud El Pastor for doing something about the annoying cell phones.

No remembero how to say eleven

From the One Semester of Spanish Love Song which Amanda just introduced me to. Watching this YouTube is encouraging to me, because it rememberos me of where my Spanish language ability used to be and how far I have come.

I stayed in Peru this summer and savored it.

My favorite part was going with church friends to Cañete, a small village 3 hours outside of Lima:

While there, we played games (including ultimate frisbee!!!)...

climbed a steep hill...

and celebrated Nadia's 22nd birthday party.

We slept 2 to a mattress in an uncomplete house which Christian's uncle owns. 10 girls in one small room next to another small room where 10 boys slept. Of course, all 20 of us shared a bathroom which had no running water.

So for this reason, a few of us girls ended up washing our hair and brushing our teeth in the river...

On the night of their Independance Day, we went to see the townspeople alight a robot which was completely loaded with high-power fireworks.

The fireworks caused the arms, legs, and some unmentionable body parts to move on the giant robot and occasionally a large firework would blast into the air and light up the sky.

After that, we danced in the town square. We ended up playing a game where one of us would make up a dance move and the whole group of us would dance using that move. Then we started repeating the dance moves which fellow dancers who were "slightly overserved" were creating.

But my favorite thing we did was try to swim upstream a river with rapid rapids. Right after this picture was taken I walked into an area where the current was quite strong. Here is what occured (try and imagine the scene as if it were in a movie and it will be much more exciting)...

"Eden! Get out of there!" Yelled Carlos, and the rest of the group joined him in yelling for her to get out.

But it was too late, before the words had left his mouth the river's current had the distracted gringa completely within its grasp. Her anxiety rose as she flailed through the current with no success. She was being pulled faster and faster to the small waterfall downriver.

Brave Maria, holding onto a rock flung out her arm so that Eden could grab on before she was sucked under.

"I can't reach!" said Eden hopelessly.

"You can, just grab onto my hand!" Yelled back Maria.

"Its too late!!! Nooooo!!!"

"Eden!!!"

And then she was gone (some could swear they faintly heard Celine Dion's powerful voice blowing through the wind in that moment).

Eden was then completely controlled by the will of the river. Over, beside, and around rocks and finally, down a small waterfall.

There she stopped. All were silent, waiting to see the outcome.

They sighed when Eden stood up, unharmed.

As the rocks were quite smooth, the ride was fun rather than hurtful and I had a strong desire to let myself get sucked into the current again. But... alas... my friends wouldn't let me.

After the three eventful days, I came home to Lima with a stronger respect for rivers, personal bathrooms, and powerful firework bearing robots.