Nobody likes me everybody hates me

My dad has been posting our journal entries about our January jungle trip on his blog. Here is an excerpt I wrote about the strange food of the amazon:

One day, the director of the base which we were working on came back from the city bearing gifts. As our gifts rippled across the table surface he said, “How do you say ‘dessert’ in English?” He had brought us raw coconut palm grubs (called suri just like someone else). Indigenous children in Peru think of suri as a candy. We played with them for a bit.



Then Director Juan Carlos began encouraging me to try them. I wouldn’t, so he said he would show me how first. He first snaped off the head with his teeth– though you have to watch out for the pincers because they will snap back. Then you suck out the inside. After some persuasion from Juan Carlos and my dad's promise that he would get it on video, I agreed:



Later that night I fried up the rest of the grubs. They really steamed right up in the frying pan and popped up nice and huge. One even got so big that when it was punctured, squirted out a long thin stream of juices. They were easier to swallow down fried and reminded me a lot of shrimp. Now I can eat just about anything. Watch the exciting frying below.



And now for a song about what to do with low self esteem. My mom, never one to let us "believe in ourselves," forced me to listen to it as a child and I can only assume that it has had some influence on my poor grub-eating decisions today:

Nobody likes me everybody hates me
Guess I'll go eat worms!
Big fat juicy ones,
Eensie weensy squeensy ones,
Itsy bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms

Down goes the first one, down goes the second one,
Oh how they wiggle and squirm!
Up comes the first one, up comes the second one,
Itsy bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms

I bite off the heads, and suck out the juice,
And throw the skins away!
Nobody knows how fat I grow,
On worms three times a day!

Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
Guess I'll go eat worms!
Big fat juicy ones,
Eensie weensy squeensy ones,
Itsy bitsy, fuzzy wuzzy worms!

Beauty Queens and Balloon Scenes

So I was walking down the streets of Gamarra, an extremely crowded district of Lima known for its thousands of small clothing stores.



There, I learned two things about Peruvian fashion:

1. Its made up of bright bold colors on skin tight clothing that I could never decently fit into.


2. I don’t like Peruvian fashion.

We walked into one store and saw Maju Mantilla. At first I thought she was an unusually pretty American. She had light blond hair and was wearing a ton of makeup.


In 2004, Maju became the only Peruvian to ever win the Miss World competition. We walked by her two more times, trying to appear as though we were casually shopping as we cast subtle glances her way. We were disappointed to find that she was not wearing her sash nor her crown.



Upon leaving Gamarra, we went down a street. The street was quiet. Too quiet.

And suddenly, sure enough, a giant water balloon burst on the pavement just in front of our feet.

“EEEEDEN! It’s carnival! RUN!” yelled Cynthia. We ran and more balloons came from all directions from the apartments above. We tried taking cover in a nearby store.

The people in the store were laughing at us.

A woman worker spoke to us, “You must be careful, this entire street is covered in people wanting to celebrate February’s carnival.”

“Is there a secret door in the back of this shopping center that will get us to a safer street?” I asked hopefully.

Everyone in the store laughed and shook their heads no. The woman worker then looked at one of the male workers and said with a smile, “Jorge, why not escort them through.”

Jorge shrugged, “No way! It won’t make a difference if I am with them or not. I don’t want to get wet too!”

So we ran down the rest of the street, dodging balloons from all directions. We made it out finally, and escaped with nothing more than wet sandals. I was glad that the balloons were not filled with urine, wax, or paint, as they sometimes are in districts as poor as Gamarra.

Below is my favorite image of an entire group of people just before being carnivalled in Lima.

Cheesy Pick Up Line of the Week

So I was on my bike, riding through traffic as usual. A man standing on the side of the road stared at me and then threw out his arms passionately as he announced "Pasa la reina! La reina!" which means "The Queen! The Queen is passing!"

 

Mi Cuñado Creeposo: Chat 5

Gordito89@gmail.com:  Hello, Eden!

me: how is your life progressing?

Gordito89@gmail.com: It's progressed a lot since you signed on

Mi Cuñado Creeposo: Chat 4

Gordito89@gmail.com: Hola, mi dulce



me: vayate mi amargo

Gordito89@gmail.com: amargo?



me: bitter



Gordito89@gmail.com: Awww... I'm your bitter?

Together we are bitter sweet

me: stop twisting things

EWW I am telling Dale

right now



Gordito89@gmail.com: Tell her of our bitter sweetness MMmmmmmm

Maybe she could her saltyness to the equation ;)

could add*

Pardon my poor sentence structure, mi dulce

5 minutes later…

Gordito89@gmail.com: Goodnight, my sweet bright eyes. My affection for you will continue to grow and my heart can't wait for the day when my eyes can gaze upon your soft face

Mi Cuñado Creeposo: Chat 3

Gordito89@gmail.com: It's like I've waited my whole life for this one night...

me: what?

Gordito89@gmail.com:: I dunno...

It's a song

I just thought I'd try to flatter you

It's gonna be me and you on the dance floor



me: lets not quote songs shall we



Gordito89@gmail.com: Why not?

I need you to be here with me, not way over in a bucket seat

Mi Cuñado Creeposo: Chat 2

The creepiness continues:

Gordito89@gmail.com: Hello Eden

me: AH! Again I thought you were some weird Peruvian who got my email



Gordito89@gmail.com: Como estas

me: why that name... why

eww



Gordito89@gmail.com: Because it fits me so well

me: creeposo

Gordito89@gmail.com: gorgeouso

me: EWWW



Gordito89@gmail.com: I can act like a creepy peruvian if you'd like

me: I can kill you in my mind if you'd like

Mi Cuñado Creeposo: Chat 1

This is going to be the first of many posts written to prove to the world that I am going to be the proud owner of the creepiest brother-in-law ever.

It all began when Tim began chatting with me online and I mistook him for a creepy Peruvian.

Gordito89@gmail.com: What up yo



me: AHH! TIM!

You totally freaked me out - I thought you were one of my peruvian stalkers

I was like WHO IS GORDITO AND HOW DID HE GET MY EMAIL???



Gordito89@gmail.com: I am your peruvian stalker

In fact... I'm watching you as we speak



me: ewww SO MUCH WORSE

We have a made up spanish word for guys like you - Adj - Creeposo



Gordito89@gmail.com:: haha



me: actually, we use it as a noun too even though it is in Adj form. "He is a creeposo - watch out for him."

Edenpage.blogspot.com dies today, age 4

Edenpage.blogspot.com, the first blog in the history of Eden Page’s life, was found dead today in a hotel room in Oregon, officials say. He was 4.

No cause of death was immediately available, but a statement by the chief of blogging police believes it to be the doing of wordpress.com.

"We're all devastated to hear of edenpage.blogspot.com’s passing," Eden Page, head blog author, said, tears in her eyes. "He was a wonderful blog, a brilliant outlet of energy, and will dearly be missed, but really, I think it was time to let him go."

Eden Page has wasted little time to pick up a new blog, http://edenpage.wordpress.com/ located here.

Diagram of Permanent Church Seating

You come into a church you have never been to before.

You sit down.

One or two elderly women begin to sit around you and start up a conversation about their grandchildren, personal body functions, or a bird they just saw outside.

Suddenly, a swarm of elderly women begin to sit around you and the chatter picks up.

"OH NO!" you think, "Now I've done it. I am now sitting in the old lady section of the church!"

You want to get up but it is too late. The women would be highly insulted if you left because they are from eras in which people were a lot more polite. You slouch down in your chair and prepare yourself for a long, long service.

Well those of you who visit my church, "El Buen Pastor," are not going to have trouble with this any longer! To solve this problem I have developed a useful diagram of all the permanent sections of the church so that you don't end up sitting with a group you are not comfortable with or end up taking someone's seat.

As you can see in the diagram, I sit in the middle with my other gringa friend. Why?

1. Because I think the light chatter of the elderly women is quite entertaining

2. Because I don't want to sit to far to the left to be close to the creepy guys in their 30's, nor too far to the right to be distracted by the snide comments of the wisecracking young guys

3. Because its the best place to sit acoustically.

You just don't understand this culture

Today, I spent the day with a few other friends and our church's pastor planning for the university group at church. One suggestion was made that we should make sure everyone gets asked if they read this weeks reading and whether or not they read the prayer emails and prayed. "That way," this person said, "each person will be sure to do so the next week for fear of being asked again."

I said in response, “but the only problem with this is that people are going to be acting out of guilt or shame rather than because they actually want to pray for others because they love Christ.”

El Pastor responded with something that surprised me, “but, Eden, I don’t always want to read my Bible, but I depend on the reminders of others to keep me motivated to do it. Guilt and shame are valid ways to get people to act.”

I then responded yet again, “But when I look at my students I see some of them require teachers telling them to do their homework, others need no reminders because they love doing their homework. My goal as a teacher is to teach those who need reminders to love to do their homework just like the others, to teach them to be motivated because of love and not guilt.”

“But my Dear Eden,” responded El Pastor, “This culture is different. No one acts without a consequence. We all need someone to tell us what to do or we are not going to do it.”

Here I stopped. I have learned enough from about Latino culture to know that their culture really is different in this aspect. But I am still not sure if that is an excuse. I want to hear the Pastor say, "this is something I don't like about our culture and we need to change in this aspect." But I need to look up more information before I expect that. And if I do find out that it truly is something wrong, I need to remember that I come from a culture which has its own sin tendencies.

Ahh the beauty of living cross culturally. It opens our eyes and opens our identities so we can plainly see the roots of our sin problems.

----------------------------------------

Later, El Pastor talked about me being the head of some English classes we may hold in our community as an outreach. He said to me, “so are you up for being in charge of them?”

I paused and then nodded.

Then he smiled and pretty much told everyone “now watch this” and then turned to me, “I had an American daughter who lived with me for a year and I learned a lot about her ways, including the fact that you all are sure to do something if you have set dates for it. So tell me, what is the beginning date and the end date of the classes which you would want to give?”

I paused and then said, “I don’t know, I have to check my calendar first.”

He laughed, “Of course! Your calendar. All you Americans have your little agendas!”

Oh dear. It seems the culture I so often observe is observing me right back.

Only in Peru

Elegance...

passion...

unpolitically correctness...

Peruvian Emphasis Week is always an exciting experience.

The unpolitically correct part of the performance came last, with 11th and 12th graders performing a dance to honor the roots of Afro-Peruvian Culture. It was quite humorous to see a Japanese student and a group of very white Americans' meager attempts to become another culture.

In the words of one of the three administrators, "If this were to happen in the states, all three of us would immediately be fired."

If you want to hear the rest of song "Ritmo Color y Sabor" hear Eva Ayllon (most famous Peruvian singer) finish it here.

International Christian School of Luchadores

Here is a photo from "Nacho Libro Night" at our school.

I never want to see spandex again.

The kids dressed up too:

The coolest part was when we stopped the movie to watch a dramatized wrestling match on a fenced trampoline. The short clip below shows a father wearing his 11 year old's sweat pants completely dominate the "Calculuchador" whose shirt claimed he would "put the fear of mathematics inside of you."

Listen to the chant of the little children. So young... and yet so bloodthirsty.

No Sale Mi Dedo, likely blockbuster of the year

Movie Summary:

On the way home from a church trip, Andrea gets her nail stuck in her purse zipper and is saved by an unlikely hero. Spanish with English subtitles provided.

Madeline: Andrea’s finger is completely stuck! Here we can see it live. Andrea, say something please.

Andrea: Huh?

Madeline: Say something.

Andrea: (whining) My finger won’t come out

Madeline: Miss Page is doing somethi… It came out! It came out! good!

Eden: (winks into the camera recognizing her moment to shine)

Madeline: Eden helped, Eden helped.

(I sense that I didn’t actually quite get the translation of the first line completely correct. Can anyone reading this who understands Spanish better than I correct me?)

ICSL Goes Commercial

So one day last month, when we looked outside the windows of our school, we saw something very different on our front lawn.

The building had been repainted, grass had been uprooted for a pathway, and the front had been covered with a new daycare facade all because apparently the director of a commercial - probably the crazy dressed guy in the picture below - decided it was the ideal spot.

Here is the commercial and translation below for your pleasure.

A father is dropping his son off at a nursery.

Dad: Ok I am going to leave you now

Son: Ok dad. (voice changes) Ahhhh! Oh no! I have hit puberty already!

Dad: Yeah yeah that happens, see you.

Little girl runs up:

I am actually 30, but drinking Ovaltine stunted my growth.

Little boy runs up:

Watch out for the demon-possessed nursery attendant.

Nursery attendant walks up:

Remember that tomorrow you need to pick up your son at…(voice changes) I am legion and we are many! Watch out that I do not enter you as well!

Dad: Ahh! A demon! Better drive away leaving my child to his imminent doom!

Various Announcers:

That’s why you need Movistar Demon Detector. Its friendly chime helps you to know whether or not a voice change is due to something completely normal like early puberty or stunted growth or if it is due to demon possession.

Dad: Woah Woah! Does it protect me from demon possession too?

Announcer:

Demon Wards are included!

Voice over:

Movistar, Protect yourself from Beelzebub and his armies.

Oh those foreign commercials! Always so crazy!

To see more about the making of the commercial and spot more of what our school looks like, watch the movie below.

A Day with Family

A Thursday ago, I found myself and most those who go to my church piling into two big buses and heading an hour outside of Lima all for the noble end of spending time together and getting sun.

First, we were divided up into groups of colors and we competed with one another for about three or four hours. Usually only one or two people from each color group would need to step forward and play one of the games while the rest of us sat back in

the sun and chatted.

Then came the moment we had all been waiting for. The scores for all the games had been tallyed and the pastor can be seen in the video announcing the runner up.

Afterward, we went swimming in an extremely crowded pool. My girl friends and I were tormented with cat calls and whistles there and even got an "Ooooooh como las chicas de Baywatch!" Unnerved, we got out immediately...

and we went on a walk, just girls.

And then the best part came. I got to hold my favorite infant for a while and had some good conversations with older church members. Then I pulled out my frisbee and taught some girls how to play. Afterward, relaxed, I feel asleep in the sun.

Going home, I shared 4 seats with 7 people. Cramped, I stuck my feet, covered in style thanks to the socks Dale sent to me, up on the seat in front of me. Peruvians don't know what to think of me as they think of looking like an idiot as something to be avoided at all costs.

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.