Welcome to Chalhuanca!

Holi con todxs! Somehow August slipped away like a bottle of wine and now it’s September already?? All sorts of nightmarish realizations have come to me this month, including an email from the Fulbright organization asking me to fill out my Final Grant Survey, which is terrifying. There are still three months left!! I’m both clinging onto those three months and wishing November would come as soon as possible. Like always, a new location brings a new, very mixed bag of feelings and a new routine, and I am not sure if I’ve settled into it quite yet. 

Chalhuanca, at first sight, is a small mining town built along one main road and nestled in the shadows of enormous mountains. It’s comprised of two main plazas, one indoor market, one bridge, a golden statue of Simon Bolívar the Libertador on his huge golden horse, one COAR on the outskirts of town, and about 16 million places to buy broaster, or fried chicken. It’s not a vegetarian haven, nor a place with many tourists, and I’ve been struggling with the stares of hostility or leers I get everyday on my commute to work. I’ve been on the receiving end of more piropos and “ay gringas” than I care to admit, and it’s a stark difference from Chontabamba, where the town was so small, and the population mostly older, that I didn’t face this kind of behavior. I won’t sugarcoat and say it’s been easy, but I also know I’m privileged not only to be here, but to not appear more of an outsider than I already am. Still, it’s hard to feel connected to a community where some members repeatedly objectify and alienate you. But this is reality, and I do my best to ignore or glare at the catcallers, and the good news is that the COAR is a friendly, open, and welcoming environment that makes up for the indignities I suffer on the way there. We’ve also had really nice experiences with community members, so it’s not all terrible. Plenty of older ladies have stopped us on the street, and wondered why we’ve come here of all places, and we’re happy to chat with them about the program and what we’re doing here. The other day, Aiden and I were walking back from a hike and a woman started speaking to us in English. Surprised, we struck up a conversation, and she ended up inviting us into her home for a glass of Inka Cola! The gesture I appreciated, the Inka Cola, not so much. Aiden can drink glasses of it, but I can’t get past its color or bubblegum-like taste. 

“Comparison is the thief of joy” is a quote that’s been sitting heavy on my heart these past few months. Aiden and I have been sent to two of the smallest locations out of all the placements, and Chalhuanca is situated in the second-poorest department in Peru, so things aren’t necessarily luxurious, but they aren’t drastic either. However, I don’t live in a bustling metropolis or a tourist hot-spot, so we don’t have a lot of access to third spaces, and that, for me, has been a hard adjustment. (I miss Open Eye and Driade!!) I am by no means a homebody, but something about Chalhuanca has infused me with a fatigue I haven’t felt since high school, even though my responsibilities are minimal. We work at the COAR for 4 hours, and then the rest of the day is free to us. Maybe it’s the altitude, or being burnt-out after the first semester, but at least for right now, I feel less motivated and less energized here than I did in Oxapampa. There are days when I’m productive and play volleyball with the teachers and hang out with the students and go to lunch with new friends, and then there are the days after that I seem to need to recover fully from such spurts of activity, which I’m not used to. 

However, Chalhuanca isn’t all bad; in fact it’s really lovely sometimes. I do feel so lucky to be here, and there are little spots of pure joy that this place has given me, namely my peaceful rooftop with views of the city, the rushing river that lulls me to sleep every night, and the mountains who feel like protective beings, glowing green and gold in the afternoon sunlight. The weather here is so nice; we were told to expect bitter cold and honestly it hasn’t been as harsh as expected. The days are nearly always sunny, almost unforgivingly so, as the sun beats down on the earth and bakes everything beneath it. When night falls, the air grabs a chill and you’ll need to layer up, but it’s not desperately cold like a winter in Chicago. When we first got here, rainy weather was unheard of, but slowly and surely we’re inching into the rainy season, and most late afternoons come with gray stormclouds and more than a little bit of thunder. Several times lately we’ve been caught in windstorms, and because we live in a valley, the wind actually howls and rattles the windows ferociously, pretending to be scarier than it actually is. However, I did walk to school the other day during a rough windstorm, where dust from the streets flew everywhere and signs were pushed over at random. When I got the the COAR, the wind was still so strong that it knocked over a classroom door, giving me the fright of my life as I graded papers. 

A brief rundown of the COAR experience: although I don’t like to compare, it’s hard not to view this second experience without the trials of our first placement in mind. There are things I miss about COAR Pasco for sure, but there are some refreshing changes in COAR Apurímac that I’m finding I’m really grateful for. First of all, we’re working with a team of four English teachers, rather than 2 or 3, so we have a complete department, which makes Aiden and my jobs a lot easier. Unfortunately, it also means we do less solo teaching or lesson planning for the kids, but there’s good and bad sides to that. Unlike Oxapampa, the majority of the teachers at COAR Apurímac are men, which is definitely a change for me. However, everyone has been very kind and eager to get to know us, and the few women who do work in the teacher’s lounge tend to stick together and are very friendly. Every morning I walk into the teacher’s salon and greet every person individually, and they greet me back by name, often asking how I am or how my weekend was, which is a huge change from Oxapampa. In Oxa, while our English team was always very friendly and kind, many of the other teachers were aloof or not to be trusted because of school politics, so the environment feels much easier in Chalhuanca. The teachers will regularly greet me with a kiss on the cheek or a hug, and are always offering a small snack or drink in between meals. A few weeks ago, I was offered coca leaves for the first time, and told to chew on them by the teachers, in a process they call chakchando here. Did I love the coca? Not particularly, as the leaves turned my teeth green and it definitely had a grassy taste. But I loved the fact that the teachers wanted to share it with me, and I felt like a real Peruvian for a few minutes, masticando my coca leaves and joking around with my colleagues. 

And, every Friday night, the English team gets together to play volleyball against some of the other teachers, which has been a huge highlight for me. I love playing volleyball, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed it til we made it a regular thing. The one thing I don’t love is that soccer seems to be much more male-dominated here than it was in Oxa, but I’m gonna work on that. 

The students at COAR Apurímac are very similar in many ways to my old students in Oxa. Firstly, they’re so enthusiastic, curious about us, and eager to learn. They’re very respectful but always get excited when they see us. Anytime I enter a classroom, or peek my head in, I hear a flurry of whispered “it’s Miss Chelsea!” and the students immediately stand up or clap with excitement when I come in. Sometimes, if I get there before the head English teacher, they delight in the possibility that I’ll be the only teacher that day. When the English professor finally comes in, they might groan or pout, but it’s all in good fun. It’s definitely nice to feel like a mini celebrity, and there hasn’t been a time yet that I’ve felt sad or down at the COAR; I always feed off the excitement and mood of the students. 

A few weeks ago, I was sitting outside at recreo (recess) when a group of the 5to girls came up to me. I don’t work as much with the quintos, since they’re often too busy preparing for their final year in the COAR and to take the IB exam, but these girls were curious and wanted to spend some time with me. Somehow, we got to talking about such and such, and I remember saying at some point that women were better than men (obviously), and that I was a feminist. All of the sudden, all the girls piped up in English, saying “me too! I’m a feminist too!” which made me smile so hard. When break was over, since they only get 15 minutes, they were all sad to leave. So I told them that whenever they want to yap, I’ll be outside waiting for our little group to reunite. With that, the “Girl Group” was born, and whenever they have spare time at recess, we chat and talk about random things in our little huddle out in the sun. It’s so nice, and I love that the girls are so eager to talk to me about anything and everything, and I love even more that we do it in a fun mix of Spanglish. 

I’ve reinstated my Creative Writing Workshop that I started in Oxapampa, and it’s been much more successful here, mostly because we actually have a dedicated time and classroom every week so we can meet up, and a working projector! I’ve been teaching mostly different styles of poetry and activities relating to that, and we have an official club group that meets up every Monday. I’m always so awkward teaching the club because I want them to be comfortable sharing vulnerable or personal things, so I come up with random warmups that usually involve me looking a bit ridiculous. But it breaks the ice, and I’m really excited to share with you all the poems the students have been working on! I’m partnering with Peru’s Regional Language Office to compile the student poems and publish a small book that we can send to all the COARs, showing off the students’ creativity in English, Spanish, and Quechua. This past week we worked on “Where I’m from” poems, after the original by George Ella Lyon, and the students really liked the activity, and interpreted it in so many different ways. I love seeing them be creative, and in turn they inspire me to try out the prompts and continue writing creatively. I could talk about this for hours but I’ll just say I can’t WAIT for the book to come together, and it fills my heart and cup so much to see the students take pride in their work. 

September is going to be a busy month for us, since the 4tos are working together to present an adaptation of Animal Farm as a play to the community, and the 23rd is Día de la Juventud, or “Youth Day.” Apparently, the teachers from each department do a little something to celebrate the students on that day, and we’ve been roped into it, although secretly I’m excited. Or, at least, I was, until I heard the English team is apparently performing the NSYNC dance from the newest Deadpool movie, including costumes. So we’ll see how that turns out. I think Aiden would rather sing a whole opera for the students rather than dance in front of them, but if I have to do it, he does too!

Against odds, Aiden and I have established a nice routine here, getting up and walking to school in the mornings and walking home together in the afternoons, buying vegetables with our tentative Quechua at the local market, and greeting all the town members we pass on the street. We’ve gotten used to the blatant stares from curious little toddlers or the “are they lost” glances from older community members. Sometimes I’ll take a mototaxi to school when I’m running late, and even that is always an adventure. One time my driver had a kitten on his lap who tried to escape every few minutes, another time my driver didn’t quite understand the point of speed bumps, and another time my driver asked me if I was a student at the COAR, because she thought I was a teenager. Things might not be overly exciting, but I definitely have a lot of fun with the everyday quirks of living here. And despite settling in, Aiden and I have both reached the point where we’re talking about groceries we want to buy when we get home, or the first restaurants we’ll visit when we get back, and I think we’re in danger sometimes of not savoring the time we have left. I can’t wait to be back in a familiar place, but I know September and October are going to fly by. So until then, I’ll hopefully have lots more interesting stories about Chalhuanca and life in the Andes. 

Xo, Chels