a little excitement

On friday, I was walking right in front of Dos de Mayo Hospital on my way to rounds when a guy grabbed the stethoscope out of the pocket of the white coat which I held in my hand, and booked it away across the street. I ran after him for a few steps, instinctively, and yelled at him, but then sense got the better of me and I stopped. The ladies on the corner who rent cellphones by the minute (cheaper than phone booths) heard my yelling and alerted the police. The thief crossed 8 lanes of traffic and jumped three barriers before falling on his face on the way into an alley. So, the police were able to apprehend him. The cellphone ladies told me that if I wanted my stuff back I better go over there to talk to the police. I could see that the police were going to leave soon, as they were getting him into the back of their SUV, so I too ran across 8 lanes of Avenida Grau - luckily temporarily devoid of busy traffic - and jumped 3 barriers (no falling, though, think I have height on my side). I got there just as they were about to speed off.

I then got into a little negotiation with the Policia Nacional guys, who refused to give me back my stethoscope unless I went with them to file a report. I then faced the uncomfortable choice of riding next to the thief in the back of the car with peruvian cops in charge, or just abandoning a stethoscope which I can ill afford to replace. I'm not altogether always trusting of police (especially in the developing world), and I really don't like being around armed men, so I was quite hesitant. I remember being a kid in Brazil and learning to never call the cops as they would do "worse than whatever the criminals just did". Given the way Peru is today, I decided to risk it, though I texted Colin to tell him what had happened and give him the details about the police station and car so that he could track me down if I disappeared.

The car ride did nothing to reduce my fears as to my left the guy was busy trying to pass his legs between his arms so that he could move the handcuffs to his front. That and he was holding a metal tape measure in his hands. I hugged the right door. At this point they asked me for ID and finally realized I was a foreigner, which changed the whole atmosphere and seemed to invite me to some special treatment (though good or bad, I did not know).

When we got to the police station and they had him empty his own pockets and backpack (not the most professional search I have ever seen), it became very clear that this guy was poor and unarmed (unless you count a rusty boxcutter and a broken bar of soap). At this point I became far more afraid of the two police officers (one with a handgun, the other a rifle) than of the poor wretch who stole from me. Things would not go well for the thief as Peruvian jails are pretty awful - not to mention hotbeds of tuberculosis. Especially bad is that I am not Peruvian and it seems that the sentences are much harsher if you steal from a foreigner (an effort to protect tourists), so he was facing a probable 27 days of jail time. Poor guy had not a dime or any food on him, so he was clearly desperate and I feel for him.

After a couple more hours of Peruvian-paced writing out of police reports (I had to spell out stethoscope for them) and me giving my statement, I finally got back my stethoscope (though missing a diaphragm, largely in good shape). One of the cops in the station offered to give me a ride back to the hospital, but I insisted on taking the bus.

It took me a few hours to try to relax, though eventually after a chat with my parents and a run on the beach, I felt like myself again. At my meeting that night with Bob he told me that it used to be common for police to rape young women in Lima, though he hasn't heard those reports for a few years now. So I'm lucky, and Peru is getting safer. Either way, I'll leave my jacket inside my bag until I get to the ward where I am working from now on.

Lest you be afraid to come visit, the hospital is in one of the worst parts of Lima, where you would never go as a tourist - most middle class and above Limeños never go there. Tourist parts of the city are crawling with tourist police, which do extract small bribes from locals for parking offenses and the like, but are generally harmless/ benevolent. In the parts of town where we live and relax, we are fairly safe (minimum level of security think corner of Tremont St and Mass Ave in Boston) and surrounded by security guards. I even run with an mp3 player on a beach where 5 years ago people used to get jumped for their running shoes. Peru is improving, becoming a lot more stable as its economy improves and the standard of living is shooting up. Let's hope that the momentum lasts during the economic crisis.

buenas noticias!

Lucha, our cleaning lady, is going to teach me how to make not only quinoa, but also emolliente and soya (fresh soy milk). yum! Recipes to follow.

In other news I have added two new blogs to the right. One is Busco Novia, a famous peruvian blog that just got published in book form. The guy, a professor, writes about his search for a novia. Novia means fiancee in Peru, although it only means girlfriend in Mexico, Panama, etc, causing endless confusion. It has lots of Peruvian jerga (slang) which I am trying to learn, so keep up if you like. Also I added a famous Cuban blog, Generación Y (which is translated into English, also), gives little insights into life on the island. Quite interesting.

Back with more soon . . .

Quinoa . . .

Let's talk about Quinoa for a bit. Some of you may have seen the recent nytimes article on the yummy grain that included a basic recipe for how to cook it. I only discovered quinoa at trader joe's about a year ago, but recently, on the streets of Lima I found out that it's much, much more than a side dish.

I've started getting a morning cup of quinoa right outside the hospital on my way into work every morning. After my hour-long commute, it is a sweet, hot, fragrant way to restart my brain before getting pimped (that's medical for "socratic method questioning") in spanish, which I admit still exhausts me. A cup of the stuff costs me 60 centimos (20 US cents) and if i get a pancito (small sandwich with filling choices such as salted avocado - yum!, fresh cheese, or omelet), that's an extra 70 centimos, for a whopping total of S/1.30 (about 40 cents). It's no wonder I was told that if I didn't gain weight in Peru, I wasn't doing it right.

Pictured is my local quinoa stand - right in front of the park outside Hospital Nacional Dos de Mayo. Bad part of town, lovely park. Those brown jugs are full of quinoa. Right next to this stand are other food vendors, shoe shiners, a place to get weighed for 20 centimos, and stands that sell toilet paper, crackers, pajamas, and whatever else you might need for ailing relatives. Especially in better parts of town, people tend to have full-on carts with shelves and burners and stuff, but the goods are the same everywhere. They include soya (homemade soy milk), emoliente (some sort of green herbal drink, haven't had the courage to try it yet), and those aforementioned yummy sandwiches. N.B. for you germ freaks out there, they don't actually touch the bread with their hands.

If you get these hot drinks "to go" then they pour it into a small plastic bag and tie it shut. You are supposed to bite a little hole into the bag and drink it. I learned the hard way on the Amazon trip that it's a little hard to maneuver and really HOT if it spills all over your lap.

So today, I asked the guy how exactly you make quinoa (the drink), because my google searches to that effect failed miserably. He turned to his mom, and asked her. Told her I was trying to steal her secrets. Mom didn't seem to fazed, probably figured that it would be tough for me to replicate even with the secret recipe. So, from what I understand, here's the recipe:

Quinoa:
Bring a small amount of quinoa (not more than 3 handfuls) to a boil in water with sugar and cinnamon. Wait until quinoa is ready (little white strings showing). Add fresh apples and pinneaple, add peach juice (mystery proportions), continue to heat until hot. There was some word I didn't understand used to describe the apples and pinneaple, I think it meant something like macerated. The end result should have a quinoa floating in the drink as a minority member, and the drink should taste spiced / mulled, with a distinct apple/peach kick. If you want to be really peruvian about it, you can add some condensed milk (the sweet kind) as you serve it, to really sweeten it up.

If you have improvements to this recipe, or if you know a better version, please let me know! If you want a more scientific recipe (boring!), check out "lemon-scented quinoa" , "buttternut squash, turnip, and green-beean quinoa"and other yummy recipes from Gourmet. Or better yet, come visit and a morning cup of quinoa is on me . . .

Peru hockey

Finally acting on the suggestion of my Minutemen teammates, about a month ago I googled field hockey in Peru and found a club team. Luckily for me, the team I found, Lima Cricket, is not only the best in the league but was also in need of a player. How great is that?!?

So I started playing indoor hockey last weekend and so far we've won both our games, and I'm improving as I adapt to indoor rules and have mostly stopped hitting the ball (only in outdoors allowed to hit it, in indoor we push very hard). Even managed to score a goal yesterday.

When I got to the game yesterday, my team was all abuzz. Seems that the Panamerican championships are coming up in a couple of weeks in Argentina. Not only are the other 5 girls on my team on the Peruvian National Team, but they are all on the front page of the national paper, El Comercio! And there was a giant spread on the hockey teams in the weekly newsmagazine, Somos, that El Comercio puts out (the rightmost 4 girls on the bottom row are on my team; the middle row, leftmost blonde is our goalie). And a video on their site with the newspaper article.

Seems that the government hasn't disbursed the promised funds to the hockey federation, so they may not be able to go. Their case (men's team too) made the paper and they are trying to boost fundraising also by having a big party at Sargento Pimienta on Wednesday (yes, that does mean Sargeant Pepper's - it's a big nightclub a few blocks from our place). And their picture in the paper says they are selling kisses . . . well they are damn cute so hopefully they will get to go!

And Robie, another american-working-for-Bob, tells me that if i get my paperwork straight I may be able to play for the Peruvian team for the next tourney, if I am selected. He just travelled south america for the Rubgy team. Now I've just got to practice . . .

Photo: the Peruvian women's hockey team, at Colegio Markham, where most of our indoor matches are held.

As an aside, there was apparently an earthquake just as I arrived at Colegio Markham for the match on Saturday, and it apparently was not that mild. I only noticed the doorbell clicker wiggling. The guards were all excited as they let me in, and went to tour the grounds to make sure there was no damage (none). I must be impervious, because Doug ran downstairs to get out of the apartment and Colin's noticed a bunch of earthquakes. What's wrong with me?




This last one is a match with my Lima Cricket teammates in green. In the foreground is Jimena and in the background her sister, Claudia.

Halloweeeeeen?

The peruvians seemed to have adopted Halloween, but something has been lost in translation.

I was walking around Av. Larco in Miraflores, a busy, commercial part of Lima. Lots of families were out, with most kids under the age of 7 or so in costume. All of the costumes were commercial, none homemade. Most of the kids who were in costume were actually under the age of 2. The kids would go into shops (like shoe shops, clothing shops) and ask for candy. Except that instead of "trick or treeeat" they said "halloweeeeen" in the same plaintive voice. rather amusing, actually.

Later on we went to a combination birthday/ Halloween party at Gringo House. Which comically enough our friends Ximena and Mariana assumed was our apartment but is actually the apartment run by Prisma where most of Bob's US employees seem to live in for some period of time.

The gringos tended towards witty costumes and the peruvians towards traditional characters. Perhaps this is a reflection of Hollywood Halloweens, where nurses, pirates, and fairies are the norm over actual American grown-up Halloween, which trends towards witty. There were a variety of peruvian-themed costumes from the gringos. I was a cobradora (the guy on the bus who collects fares). Peruvians didn't get it till I repeated their monotone sayings "Pasajes, pasajes . . . baja, baja" which are immediately recognizable to all who have taken carros here. I found the company of two other cobradoras at the party, as well. Rathika was Doña Pepa, a character from a popular sweet here.

It was a good night, all in all, though I heard there was a rather American frat-style cleanup to be done the next day.

errata

i stand corrected - apparently not all those songs were by Grupo5. the cumbia bands seemingly just cover all each other's hits during concerts. which is great for me, cause i get to hear all the stuff i know! plus we hear that Grupo5 will have 3 nights of free concerts in the park about 200 meters from our place next week. Lucky us!

but while I have your attention, you may want to see this triste payaso (sad clown) video. it's the current chart topper.

i heart peruvian mobile phone providers (and Grupo 5)

On friday my mobile phone was stolen, while I was taking my daily on-combi nap. I can't help it! The bus vibrations lull me into daydreams and then naps. I do try to do some educational reading or listening to Goljan, but eventually I always succumb.

Regardless, today I went to get a replacement phone from Movistar. Given that I had a prepay sim card, I was shocked to learn that I can actually get the same number again. So I got:
- a new phone
- a new sim card, same number
for the grand total of 69 soles (about $23), in under 10 minutes.

Why can't we do this in america? price, efficiency, ease, everything!!! I hate US cellphone providers.

Speaking of Movistar, I went to a concert they sponsored on Friday: Grupo5. They are a really popular cumbia band here in Peru. When I say really popular, I mean that 99.5% of the songs played on the radios of the combis and buses are their songs. Of course, you occasionally get the wierdo driver who listens to hard rock or 80s music, but that's an uncomfortable moment. Anyhow, they bring out 5 main guys, plus a brass section, caribbean-style drumers, the whole nine yards. Apparently there is actually a whole stable of singers (see photo) but they take turns singing to rest their voices, since each of them has a huge repertoire of hit songs that they are soloists for. They are STUPENDOUS. They channel this ricky ricardo vibe with the band, matching suits and their dancing in synch. Their stage presence is fab, too, with lots of horseplay and at moments some pretty camp imitation of women. Plus one of them is super-guapisimo. Don't know his name or I would tell you.

Check out on of their current faves: Te Vas (hand gestures during chorus a plus)

we're famb-lous

well, in Brookfield: follow-up article from the race

and also at tufts

true fame will have to wait for our raft across the atlantic . . . (just kidding, mom!)

calling all science fans

I have a sincere science question for you all out there.

But first I need to set the stage by describing, ever so briefly, Lima's climate:

Lima is a tropical, desert climate. The yearly average rainfall is 0.3" (0.7 cm) at the coast, and 1-6 cm further inland, the least of any metropolitan center in the world. Less than the Sahara desert, my friends. However, humidity is super high, in the winter around 80% and reaching 98% in the summer months. Not to mention the microclimates that make you take layers on and off as you move through the city. Which brings me to my point . . .

There is no static electricity in Lima. None. It's seemingly dissipated by the humidity. Fine, so far I follow. But science experiments to demonstrate static electricity, like Van der Graaf generators, are seemingly impossible. Science classes have to watch videos of static electricity since demonstrations don't work. Seems like we should be able to create static charge with lots of voltage, no? Can someone smart please explain??

the great amazon raft race . . . part 2

Hi there. I've been nursing some sort of fun GI bug (thanks a lot, CH), sorry it's been a while . . .

I should mention our team name was Brains over Prawn. Neatly won out over our #2 option: the Malarones . . . We were hoping that being smart would help us given that we didn't exactly . . . train.


So where were we? Oh yeah, so we set out from the beach in Nauta, birthplace of the Amazon, underwater. We quickly decided that floating took precedence over sunshade and ditched our sticks and shade. Adios, sunshade. Hello, sunburn. We were still quasi-U boat (see photo of Javier) but it was as good as it got.

Turns out Javier is such a strong paddler that with the 3 of us paddling on the opposite side as him, the boat still veered away from him. So we had to keep saying "cambio" and all of us changed paddle sides, as we zig-zagged our way down the rio Amazonas.

By the time we'd sorted ourselves out most of the rafts were teeny weeny dots on the horizon and we were in last place. We kind of took our sweet time on day 1, paddling and hanging out, figuring out how it all worked. Also figuring out where to go (directions were minimalistic). A very steep learning curve. Turns out the river flows way faster than you could ever paddle and the key is to be in the current. The hard bit is finding the current. You can be 10 feet in any direction and have a different current. And it always looks faster at the bank, even though that is rarely true. We spent lots of time arguing about visual perception, optical illusions, and apparent speed. Remember vector problems from high school? That was us.

Luckily we had planned some good raft food: bread, canned tunafish, peanuts, melon, etc. Only bad call: canned hotdogs in brine. Possibly the worst foodstuff I have ever had. We fed them to the pirañas. (See the photo of Catherine pretending to eat them.)

Anyhow we finally arrived at Porvenir, having caught a bunch of rafts, about 60k later. Porvenir is a little speck of a pueblo (town) based on subsistence living. Its main advantages: a shower, and a distillery. Very strong stuff. Also the pigs live under the latrine, eating poop. Awesome. After a mystery is-this-fish-or-meat dinner, we ate tootsie roll pops (yumster). After dark, we hung out in our tents (bedtime: 9 pm), listening to a few of Colin's friends being silly and laughing our butts off.

Day 2 we were up at 5 to perform some raft modification. This day was the longest, about 68k we were told. When we started off at 7, we were actually in the mix, doing well. We were focused on beating The Sisterhood, this group of british women who were pretty hard core. They had done some english channel crossing by paddling and had set a record. They brought carbon fiber paddles and . . . some brought silicone, if you know what I mean. Quite bionic-looking. We were told that after this little "creek" shortcut we only had 45 min left . . . which actually was about 3 hours. The race organization was somewhat haphazard. Saw the tail of a pink dolphin but sadly not more. We were muertos when we arrived at the town of Tamshiyacu. It was 8 hours of paddling with about 10 min of break for eating . . . and peeing. It was hard to motivate to move to shower, brush teeth or do, well, anything.

It promptly poured rain when we arrived, and we took advantage to cool off. By this point a british lady and a peruvian man had already quit the race from heat stroke. We went through about 8L of water a day, just on the river. After eating our roast chicken lunch (extra mayo, please!) we were off to find a hostel. The Sisterhood and The Brotherhood had already scammed the two best in town, but we found a little one at the edge of town for 12 soles a night. Bed, rainwater shower, and it felt like the lap of luxury. Minus the bat flying around . . . of course.

And then, off to dinner. Colin H and Amie got to enjoy some patacones (aka tostones - yummy disks of fried, salted unripe plantain). Afterwards the town threw us a little dance festival of native dance. Pretty cool. It included teenage girls running around in bras. Some of the older male rowers were huge fans.

Catherine, Colin and Scott got in the mix when they invited the crowd, doing flips and generally getting sweaty. After some late nite hostel hallway antics from Alden, Colin (H) and Scott, some fous rires, we passed out again.





Day 3 dawned stormy, and we were missing supplies off our raft. After scurrying about to find them, everyone was thrilled to be off for the last day (almost done!!). Total chaos at the start, as per usual (can you spot us in the photo?). For much of day 3 we were neck and neck with a group of Kaiser docs, a Brotherhood raft, and a guys raft where we knew one of them as "South Africa" (never could remember his name). Day 3 was all-out as we were all psyched to get to the finish . . .

We rowed our hearts out on day 3 (7 hours, all told). There was a long stretch of super-wide river where we felt we were going very slowly. Lots of locals stood on the side of the river, waving at us and watching us go by (probably thinking "que gringos locos"). We were given directions to take the 2nd left fork upriver at the Nanay river. No one told us that the river forked before Iquitos and we were to take the left fork. So once we realized other groups were going left, we killed ourselves getting to the left shore and had to backtrack a ways, running our raft along the shore. After this we had about another hour or so of rowing, full steam, with other rafts nearby. I started getting a little too overheated and confused, and couldn't wait to be done.

We finally got to the river Nanay and had a quarter mile upriver to row. The Amazon, I should mention was 2 meters higher than normal and flowing fast! So upriver was hard work, but we could see a giant crowd gathered at the finish line. Thankfully between Javi's counting out strokes and Colin's motivational words, we cleared ahead of a boat of 4 big guys to beat them right at the finish. Upon which, we all fell off the raft from exhaustion and heat while a few local boys took care of our raft (never saw it again, good riddance!).


Our cumulative time over 3 days for 180 kilometers was 19 hours. Here's an NPR story about the winners. We finished 21 out of 57 overall, 12th of the international group (about 30 rafts) and 4th in the mixed men's and women's division. Hot stuff!! It was so fun . . . I'm not sure that I would ever do it again. It's a once-in-a-lifetime race, and I mean that.

The race made the front page of the national newspaper, El Comercio. We could make out Aime in one of the shots. Luckily we all had a lovely take-home souvenir: a nasty rash from contact with the water, so we got to remember the Amazon for a few more days. good times!

After a rejuvenating dinner in Iquitos, (yummy fish) a few more moto taxi near-death experiences, we were done. Back to Lima, lovable pollution, Chuqui, and all. I was never so happy to be home!


If you get inspired, the raft race is yearly in September, and I can give you advice. And again, thank you all for your support for LimaKids. Sincerely appreciated.

Couple more great pics:
Our team in a moto taxi and the "before" team pic.




N.B. To those who want to do this in the future: the key is straight logs, thick ones (for flotation). The catamaran design is good for not having to switch positions all the time, but it probably has more drag. We had to work a lot harder than many other rafts. This year's winning design, a long version of 4 + 4 logs, is now illegal. Also, light paddles (the opposite of ours) wouldn't kill you. Loads more advice where that came from . .
.

the great amazon raft race . . . part 1

Finally recovered enough to tell you all about our Amazon trip. First off thanks so much to everyone who donated. We raised about $1200 for LimaKids and Dr. Moore was thrilled with the response. It being not a behemoth organization, that money goes a long way. If you still want to donate, just head to http://www.limakids.org/.

Right, back to the trip. First off we flew into Iquitos. In the airport in Lima before we left, though, we managed to run into a local football (soccer) sensation, Leao Butrón. He's the goalie of the national football team who just defeated Argentina in a major upset the week before. We all agreed he was muy guapo, and very nice about being harassed. Then we had to pay the insanely stupid amount of either $3.71 or s/ 10.27 in airport tax (really!?!). Once landing in Iquitos, we spotted rival paddlers at the airport (British, all wearing matching outfits) well prepared with carbon fiber paddles, and we set off in moto taxis to our safe haven.

Iquitos is deliciously seedy. It has the feel of a jungle outpost where old pirates and people with warrants for their arrest go to hide out. The locals are friendly, but many verge on con artists (for example, faking an empty gas tank in an attempt to double the moto taxi fare). We stayed at La Casa Fitzcarraldo, a lovely little B&B on Ave. Marina. The Swiss owner, it seems, was the producer of a Herzog film, Fitzcarraldo, about a rubber baron who dreamed of building opera houses in iquitos and had a 320 ton steamer ship carried up and over a waterfall by locals (in the movie version, at least). Anyhow, fabulous breakfasts, cold showers. My favorite bit was the 5 story tree house with the pet snake on the 3rd floor. Minus the boa, I would have given my right hand to play in such a tree house as a kid. Oh, and there was an ocelot (painted leopard) in a cage right outside the dining room. Humane-treatment issues aside, it bit Colin's finger and made him bleed. He was trying to pet it, though, to be fair.

Anyhow on day 2 we set out to get all our supplies: plastic chairs, machetes, saws, rope, food, buckets, duct tape, life jackets. You know, the usual. We ended up in Belén, a part of town which is flooded in the rainy season and in which people build there homes on wooden rafts, which they moor to poles when it floods. There's an open air market (where we haggled with the Chinese for our gear) and also a cool medicine lane called Pasaje Paquito (according to wiki, though finding street signs is rather a joke) where jungle plants and animals are sold for medicinal purposes at all these stands. Had I known what on earth they were I would perhaps have been tempted to try some out. (view above from end of market over iquitos)

After a stop for some refueling plantains which burnt my tongue to a cinder (see pic), Colin and I were off to the Naval Research Lab (US Navy, that is) to meet up with a friend-of-a-friend, Dr. Amy Morrison, a dengue researcher, to borrow paddles while Catherine and Javier went back to the boating supply shop to try to convince them to get off their duffs and go get 12 lifejackets from their mysterious supply place. This all involved running back and forth to the hotel and all around the city in moto taxis. My favorite bit: the windshields, made out of plastic sheeting and boarded by wood. They don't go all the way up and the driver looks over them at the road. Works quite well, actually.

Moving on . . . we left quite early the next morning on buses (5 of them, i think) to Nauta, the start of our rafting journey. Took only 2 hours (remember that, when I get to the return journey). After enduring some mild sexual harassment from a crew member off the winning boat, and spilling my hot-milk-in-a-bag on my lap (YOU try drinking hot milk from a hole in a bag), we arrived in Nauta. There we endured a couple of hours of welcome speeches.

The highlight, truly, was this Canadian guy, David, who was celebrating his 71st birthday that day. And yes, he has a tattoo of a snake on his knee. And a pierced ear. And a red mohawk. Pretty much the most bad-ass guy I've ever seen over the age of 50. He was super nice, too. Too bad we didn't get to hear his stories . . .

After lunch we all set off with our gear onto this rickety boat (sort of mississippi paddleboat-esque) across the amazon to a beach island. The plan was to make our raft and camp out there. The one thing that became evident at this point in time is that organization was kinda minimal. We were supposed to get in order of our boats to select our 8 logs of balsawood with which to build our raft. After boat 3 of 57, this plan started falling apart and Javi and I (latin and french) started grabbing our logs. Catherine and Colin (and many other anglo-saxon types) calmly waited their turn while a free for all ensued. Classic multicultural mayhem. Anyhow we then had 8 logs of balsa and 4 small sticks of balsa, plus our machete, saw, and a bunch of rope and the goal was to turn it into an amazon-worthy craft. Yeesh!

After about 4 hours of trying to approximate the work of the locals we had made considerable progress, but still hadn't lashed any logs together. Given that we only had 1 hour of daylight left, and a little group of local boys and teens had come over to watch us, with concerned looks on their faces, we finally conceded to the plan almost all gringos do, and paid 20 soles to get help. In about 2 hours, they redid our work better than we had done it, plus lashed it all together with all the necessary joins. Turns out, they know what they are doing.

It should be mentioned that some people decided to forego the traditional route and that the sound of chainsaws could we heard well into the night. By 9 pm we were exhausted and we just chilled by the campfire watching the clearest milky way i've seen since the middle of the Atlantic. We weren't aware until way past dark that there was such a thing as a raft that didn't float, but at that point we were too tired to lug ours to the beach to test, so I passed out sending up small prayers that our raft would float . . .


Up at the crack of 5, we worked furiously to test our raft (floated-ish!) cut off the legs of our chairs, lash them to the boat, assemble a sun shade, secure our food bucket . . . and all of a sudden at 830 all the other rafts were already on the water and we were being told it was time to go. Never mind that we thought the start was at 9. So we hussled on the river, to join up. Our boat did NOT float with the bucket, our gear, and the sunshade. We were distinctly U-boatesque. While not an unpopular style on the river, it didn't bode well for getting anywhere fast.

More on our u-boat next entry . . . I know you're just dying of suspense.

updates on various things

1. The research:
I'm at the point of handing in my first/ revised versions of IRBs to 3 different ethics committees. However I just got an email that the hospital where I plan to do my study, Hospital Nacional Dos de Mayo (picture of Santa Rosa, the ID ward I'll be working in, at right), is partaking in a national doctor's strike. I'm not sure what this means, exactly, for me, but I will doubtless waste 3 hours going all the way there and back on tuesday for naught. In other news, I have managed to stump not 1 but 2 statisticians at the National Institutes of Health with pleas to help me with my sample size calculations. Despite our best efforts, no progress has been made. I think I may have to simplify and retool. One thing I have learned is that sample size precision is an illusion. If you calculate a number based on A, B, and C, where A-C are numbers you've had to make up out of thin air for lack of better data, what are the odds that your answer will be true? Are you a betting man?

2. The amazon trip.
Have just come back from a few beers at Juanito's with Colin and David Moore. Dr. Moore filled our head with hard-won wisdom from last year's race. Amongst the best: the support boat and the coast guard leave in the morning and you don't seem them till you arrive at the landing site at night (which is unmarked). there are no maps or signs . . . at various fork points, you will have to guess. Make a hard left and paddle upriver when you get to Iquitos because otherwise you will shoot right past and miss the city.

Very reassuring. However the summary feeling is that it will be: 1) total chaos, 2) total annhiliation by the local teams who have what we call "experience" making rafts, paddling them, and navigating the amazon, and 3) a lot of fun. Have I mentioned that the British contingent may be bringing someone tabloid-worthy? Odd, odd, odd. The good news is apparently there are few mosquitos on the Amazon itself, and the piranhas mostly stick to the tributaries, so my odds of getting eaten or catching malaria are low. Always a bonus.

Btw, Juanito's is a bar disguised as a bodega general store (see pic I found online). Best bar in Lima, so far. Many Limeños agree. I'll have to take pics. It's got beer and a few tapas and is so relaxed it's insane. I love it. We met a guy who David knew who is one of the LimaKids coaches, really excited for his 12 and under team to hopefully make tourney finals next weekend. Oh, and apparently he happens to be a successful businessman, but he's very charmingly worked up about this kid, who he is training to be a goalie, who takes it very hard when a goal is scored on him. Best bit: the dress code is, to be honest, sloppy. Any more and you are overdressed. Barranco (our hood) rocks.

There is an amazing culture, from what I can tell, of little bodegas all over the city serve as little bars/ gossip centers at night. All the men go to play cards, the women catch up there. Very multipurpose and very cool.

3. Spanish
Having learned my spanish the way that native speakers do when they are two years old, with zero formal training whatsoever, I have a freakish combination of a good accent, decent vocabulary, and random, startling gaps. For example, I just learned the alphabet three weeks ago. Who knew that the spanish did the "greek i" thing for "y" just like the french? I'm also looking for an intermediate level but well-written Spanish book to read. Any suggestions? And though I did get this suggestion many times, no, paulo coelho is brazilian, and did not write in Spanish. He's quite good, though, we can agree there.

Roger, over and out.

ps. if you have not yet donated to LimaKids and still want to, there is time! David said that he's been thrilled with the response. We haven't quite met the goal that we set, though, so please do contribute - even if you think it's very little it goes a long way here. These kids are orphans or living on the streetand for these kids the soccer team is the first time they are doing something "normal" kids do. Also LimaKids is working on a project to help overcome some of the obstacles to getting these kids healthcare, since many of these kids are undocumented and therefore can't access proper care . . . We (and they) really appreciate the support

muy amable

So peruvians might be the nicest people on earth. They really go out of their way to get you sorted. Oh, an example? Well, Catherine and I got on the wrong combi one day, coming back from surfing. It supposedly went to Barranco but really just cut tangentially through the edge. When we realized we were headed to Chile, we went to get off and about 4 people told us "No! . . . it's not safe here". One man adopted us, and had us get out with him at his stop in a safer place. Then, he waited with us and made sure we got on the right combi to get home. On the next combi the cobrador tried to overcharge because we looked gringita that day but the rest of the passengers argued with him and then he noticed Catherine's eyes, fell in love, and we were safe at the baseline 1 sole rate. Just a typical day . . .

But anytime I am lost or have a question, people don't just answer. They answer kindly, with patience, and they show an interest. They want to know where you are from, where you learned Spanish, how long you've been here. And they really care! It's super nice. I frequently have long conversations with my taxi drivers and learn about how their daughters are doing in school, and they learn all about me, and advise me to get a peruvian husband. This is your basic get to know you convo:
1. What country are you from? Do you like Peru?
2. How long have you been in Peru? How long are you staying?
3. Where are you living?
4. What are you doing here?
5. Are you married or single? How old are you?

and occasionally: do you cook or eat in the street (street food vendors)? this, only women ask.

Yup, basically this all goes down in about 3 min. It's just the vital stats they have to have in order to get to know you. I think soltera was one of the first 20 words I learned in Spanish

Today I went to Dos de Mayo to present my study to the ID docs there and get their input. On the way we got stuck in much-more-than-usual traffic. Turns out right at the park in front of the hospital there was a big street fair with lots of food being sold, a jumping castle, hats, wooden spoons, bootleg dvds, and a couple of monkeys doing tricks. After my presentation I sought out lunch. There was cuy (guinea pig), pork, lots of soup stews, breads, plantains, and other yumminess. I settled on the chicharon (fried pork rind) with potatoes and rice (i know mom, potatoes are considered a veg here) and sat next to these nice ladies. They helped me sort out the system (pay 1 guy for the food, another for the inca kola) and even had me try their dessert (some sweet brown slop made from a fruit i've never heard of before). After lunch we kissed goodbye and they wished me luck. So sweet, so kind.

Also Catherine has noticed (and she's right!) we have yet to see one single unhappy peruvian kid. No tantrums, no tears. I love Perú!

remind me to tell you more about inca kola later! also will try to bring my camera out more so you can share with me the sights (sorry can't share the yummy flavors).

we're gonna race down the amazon on a raft we build with our bare hands

Yup, you read that right. Catherine, Colin, Marjory and a yet to be named 4th are gonna race in the Amazon Raft Race 2008. We'll go to Iquitos, the biggest city in the world that you can't drive to (only plane or boat), build a raft out of balsawood logs, and then race down 132 miles of Amazon over 3 days. Colin thinks it'll look something like the picture below but since machetes , gloves, and a first aid kit are on the supply list it'll probably be less glam . . .

But here's where you come in: We are raising money for LimaKids, a very worthwhile organization devoted to helping street kids in Lima through activities including a street clinic and soccer league. We'll deduct the $150 entry fee from the donations (for materials, bus, tents, some meals), and the 4 of us will contribute our costs for airfare and hotel for the first and last night to the cause.

How do you sign up to be part of this madcap adventure? Two ways:


1. Click on the donate button. This will paypal it to us and we'll take it from there.

if that doesn't work try this:



2. If you're gonna donate a chunk of change and need a tax receipt, go straight to LimaKids. Just let us know please how much was donated so we can report back our total (we'll keep your anonymity if so desired).

If you want to see how it went for Mark, last year's fellow, check out his blog.

fat, dumb, and happy

so we moved into our new place on monday. it's pretty awesome. have i mentioned we are one block from the pacific, where we can go running? only 1.5 miles to our buddy's surf spot. if you have your own board you can go right outside our place. pics to come soon. but let me just say, for now, that chuqster is loving it.

now that is one happy cat.

seems i'm a heterodox

robbie has been buggging me to post, so here goes:

<-- fetching photo, no?

my sister sent me an interesting article from the wsj about the fuss going on about galileo over at the vatican . . . currently. seems someone is trying to erect a statue to galileo, "the Che Guevara of secular science," and the old wounds are open again.

One of the most interesting bits:
"Today, the church insists it has no problem at all with modern science, and even science fiction. In May, for example, the Vatican's chief astronomer declared that Christian theology can accommodate the possible existence of extraterrestrials. The Bible, he said, 'is not a science book.' "

NO way!! i think that's the first time someone over in vatican city has admitted such a thing.

Does this put kooky catholic creationists out of business? Certainly it should help the fence-sitters come over to the side of the flying spaghetti monster. check out the site for pics of FSM at the olympics and at ikea!

more importantly this sent me off to find out more about Galileo and the banned book list. Find me one book on that list that hasn't been on some "classics" or must-read list at some point and i'll buy you a drink. machiavelli, sartre, descartes . . . it's pretty hilarious. officially stopped being enforced in 1966 but has never been renounced or denounced or some word like that. my grandfather used to smuggle them into ireland, because obviously the quickest way to make a book popular is to ban it.

and it turns out i'm a heterdox. who knew! it means i'm approaching heretic, but they don't have to kick me out. awesome! i knew i wasn't officially an atheist, though laura tries to convince me otherwise.

also, if you're bored or on call, check this vid out. some people have too much free time. and yes, kristen, i know i have a wiki problem. 1st step is admitting it.

a tribute to dave ngo

david ngo is a cool cat.

one of my favorite people to keep track of. why? three main reasons.

1. smart. (i mean he went to MIT . . .) no but really. i mean, sure, he's got a bunch of degrees and stuff. but more importantly he can coherently answer the question "what is design?" which I'm sure many of you struggle with every day. once you see his vid you'll be able to sleep better at night. also i found his design website by googling him (sorry dave, i'm a stalker).

bad design makes me CRAZY (a remnant of course 2 training that i will never lose). so we need more designers out there - enginerd love! what's your next big plan, dave?

2. funny. quite funny, actually. couple examples. there's the AED videos, 6 so far, he makes with a couple of friends. also, I understand he's part owner of Mr. Yogato, a fro-yo place in DC with some awesome rules!! my favorite: "Anyone wearing a kickball uniform and has played hard (evidenced by dirt on their knees) will receive an automatic 10% off yogurt"

3. sweet dance moves. sadly, have no way to show you this and haven't witnessed it in person in about a decade or so. oh wait, unless you count AED 4, though I don't think it's dave's best work, dance-wise. also he used to sing for toons.

alright's that's enough of me embarrasing dave, i guess. heart you! over and out.

socks aka medias

I've been dreaming of socks. Yup, only glamour for me. In between writing my IRB (first draft, done!) and training chuqui not to eat off my plate, I'm freezing my tucus off. We live (temporarily) in one of the coldest parts of Lima. It's a little valley and all the clouds settle right in and don't leave. When you walk you are walking horizontally into a cloud so your face gets all wet but the top of your head doesn't. That's god having a laugh at wearers of hats, that is. Plus it's been raining. Thanks to my wetsuit, I did get to surf on saturday on the beach out by Miraflores and that was pretty awesome . . . but mostly it's cold here.

So back to the point. Socks. The only kinds I've seen here so far are either tube socks or thin, flimsy things to wear to work. I'm dreaming of the thick wooly kind. Céline tells me I have to go to Puno (right by Lake Titicaca) to get that kind of stuff. Luckily Catherine is going there for a while for her research and I may get to go help her.

Here is my all-time favorite sock pattern: Space Invaders!! yup, that's right.

Now if I could only find someplace to get yarn around here . . .

Lima traffic part 1: Combis and taxis

Alright so I promised this to my dad a while back. It's a video of the cobrador on a combi recruiting passengers. Combis are the privately owned little vans and buses that run all over Lima. You may know a version of them as chivas (Panama) or dala dalas (Tanzania). Cobradores are the guys who are combo door-opener/conductor/PR/enforcer/helper-on of little old ladies. Here in Lima there are technically buses, minibuses (as seen in video), and combis - which really refers only to the smallest vans. En route you get to listen to some rockin cumbia tunes, and if it's full, hang on to the bars on the ceiling while the combi accelerates and decelerates rather violently.



There are about 10 billion routes, some direct, some really, really indirect, and there are zero maps. (n.b.: if anyone created a website / map of the routes, you'd have a winning product). The buses are color coded, numbered and have some destinations painted on the side, but it's still a struggle. Here are the ways to find out which combi goes your way:

1. Ask someone. If they know, they'll say something like "take the dark green and sky blue bus from the corner opposite the banco comercio, or maybe the purple and white". Color translation can make this hard (how do you say teal in spanish?).
2. Figure out where you are going, but in the code language of the combis. For example, our home is currently Ovalo Higrueta (see earlier post) for which we can take combis that go to Via Maria, Benavides, or Aviacion (this took us about 10 days to sort out).
3. Trust that the guy who is yelling, sorry, recruiting (as he hangs out the speeding doorway) means it when you ask "are you going to ____?" and he nods. This is risky, we have learned.

You're doing all this while standing on an island at a busy intersection (btw, cars do NOT stop for pedestrians, beware Bostonians), that looks something like this.

Once you're on the combi you have to figure out which of the fares you qualify for, zonal, urbano, interurbano or whatnot. Or you trust that the conductor will not overcharge you (possible). We still haven't figure out much more than it costs 1 sole (35 cents) to go not-far and 1.50 to go far and more to go farther-than-we've-been. The distinction is not yet clear. Oh, and then you have to know when you are nearing your destination so you can proclaim "baja, baja" and they will slow down (a french "stop glissee") as you jump out.

Your other option, of course, is a taxi. They are plentiful (1/8 Lima cars). Of course then you have to negotiate your fare ahead of time. Lots of "no, es muy cercito! no tiene tráfico!", dark hair, and a near-native accent are pluses here. Some of them are these tiny little clown cars originally designed for managers to drive around their factories with, never designed for city streets. Oh and there are signs to buckle your seat belt but by my estimate about 5% of cabs have the combination of shoulder belt plus buckle necessary for such a plan. Plus they are notorious for taking people bad places and mugging them at night (don't ride alone at night). On the plus side they are faster than combis, way cheap (45 minute ride to Cayetano = $5), readily available, and generally safe when taken in numbers.

Oh, and lest you think I exaggerate, check out the wiki version of Lima travel horrors :)

Pick your poison!

Chuqui update

1. Chuqui is acting a crazy fool and running around (we're pretty sure she thinks she is a dog). She just now projected herself into the top shelf of my closet from the floor and slammed into the back wall. Loca!

2. Turns out "choo-key" sounds to Peruvians (who don't speak quechua) like the name of this guy in Spanish: Chuky. Fab. now all the locals think my cat is possessed. And her behavior is not convincing anyone otherwise.

Sigh . . .

Me gustaría presentarte a Chuqui

Ana is charismatic. At orientation her no-meat policy (which had already conquered her husband) took hold of Emily and, while no one can talk me out of meat, Ana's stories of adopting "third world cats" got me. Plus I've been thinking of getting one for a while (30+ hour call and dog's bladders don't mix) so it wasn't a hard sell. The second day after I got here I was talking to my hallmate, Celine, about it and the very same night she told me that one of her froggie facebook contacts had found abandoned cats in Barranco.

Berengere (the froggie facebook friend) had felt a serious moral obligation to find them a home before she left for Argentina three days later and I got interviewed (read = grilled) at a bar the following night: my intentions towards the cat, my ability to care for her then-injured leg, my plan vis a vis her health care etc. I was told that an Argentinian was also after the cat but that she trusted me more (woohoo! and yes, I played the med student card, I have no shame).

So, now I have a cat. 4 months old and a whopping 2.1 kg. This, in addition to a cellphone and apartment was all within 4 days of getting to Lima. Not half bad, I'd say.

After searching for Quechua, Inca or Spanish names - since this is a Peruvian cat - I ruled out Tupac (most people would think of the norteamericano), and Anya (black in Quechua, but too Russian) and settled on Chuqui (choo-key), which means beloved in Quechua. More importantly, she answers to it :)

After a few days of separation anxiety and trying to sleep on my face, she's chilled out and is now in charge of warming our laps while we work on our IRBs / papers. That's Celine, Marie, Catherine and myself. Lots of laps to warm. Plus all the other random students in and out of our temporary flat. (And for those who worry, I got all her shots in order). She is also learning how to play with a ball. The only complaint I have is that she's a farty pants. But since she seems to unleash that mostly on Catherine, it's actually pretty funny . . .

I'll post more pics once I get my windows xp on the mac sorted (tonight I hope).

as andrew says, "REALLY?!?!?"

I'll get back to all that important tuberculosis and lima-stuff, but for now I really need to get this political rant out. I feel more and more as if I'm living inside one of those surreal totalitarian books (think 1984, Farenheit 451) where the government can do whatever the heck it wants, openly. And no, I don't mean Peru, land of past military dictatorships. I mean the US, "land of the free".

Ok I'm biased. Straight up, US customs and border patrol are not on top of my christmas shopping list and it's largely thanks to their warm "welcome" that I decided to upgrade from green card to citizen. (Really, you can't tell me that I'm not allowed to work in England when I have a green card. I'm pretty sure the brits are in charge of who can and can't work in their country. We need a little jurisdiction review.) My mom recently got downgraded to less the 90 days she would have gotten as a regular, visa-less Irish bumpkin to 30 days despite her green card (thought it was permanent resident?) Course there's always the odd friendly one who says "welcome home" but . . . still. Home is a fuzzy concept to me, that always throws me off my "looking non-smuggler-like" game.

Couple new policies of US customs and border patrol bring this up.

1. You must register online for screening > 72 hours ahead of time for any travel to the US from any country from where you currently don't need a visa (thefore a defacto visa requirement, undoing the original international treaties eliminating those visas). Even though approval lasts 2 years (if you don't change passports), you still need to register each new trip. Required starting January 12, 2009.

2. Customs/ immigration can search all documents and electronics (laptops, usb keys, cellphones etc) for any documents. If they find something remotely interesting (technical looking, foreign), they keep it and ask for help interpreting. If it appears non-suspicious, they destroy it. Effective July 16, 2008. Yes, you read that right. If it looks harmless, you don't get to keep it. If it looks worrisome, they keep it. Either way, you're cooked. Did I mention this includes US citizens?

I'm waiting for my sister's legal interpretation but potentially this means you need to back up your computer, documents, cellphone, camera, etc before you travel. Not to mention that if they select you to screen, you're never making your connecting flight (how long would it take you to listen to all the audio files on your laptop /ipod. Also I'm pretty sure from the wording that pirated movies and music are part of the quest.

Only three things to lighten the situation, as far as I can see.

1. I'm not-so-secretly awaiting the brazilian sequel to tit-for-tat parte dois. The immaturity level is pure genius. Pisses the US off in under 2 seconds flat without breaking a sweat (in the quiet button-pushing way of a younger sibling's honed skills).


2. The new (free) Airport Security computer game enabling you to be the TSA. Get inside their heads and fly under their radars. The best bit is that the rules on what is and isn't allowed change all the time, just like real life!



3. And finally, the recruiting efforts of the US border patrol. Really?!?! Your ideal border patrol agent is a fan of Nascar and/or professional bull riding (sorry, Professional Bull Riding)? This explains a heck of a lot! I'd bet money (well, honor, cause i'm poor) that in the Venn diagram of America, those groups don't overlap a hell of a lot with passport holders. Just a guess.

(btw, that's their official recruiting poster. really.)

Well I don't know bout you, but I feel better. Back to work. Cheerio!

(secretly afraid this rant just got me on a list for triple S security screen, augh). Oh wait, I'm not using my real name. Yessss! Counting on google to keep my privacy . . . (andrew?)


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ps: that TSA game made by an a company i just fell in love with, Persuasive Games. here's another couple examples of their games:

Points of Entry - Compete to award Green Cards under the Merit-Based Evaluation System included in legislation recently debated in Congress.


The Arcade Wire: Oil God - You are an Oil God! Wreak havoc on the world's oil supplies by unleashing war and disaster. Bend governments and economies to your will to alter trade practices. Your goal? Double consumer gasoline prices in five years using whatever means necessary. Oil God is the second in our ongoing series of newsgames.

Disaffected! - a videogame parody of the Kinko’s copy store, a source of frustration from its patrons. Disaffected! puts the player in the role of employees forced to service customers under the particular incompetences common to a Kinko’s store. From a new series of persuasive games we call anti- advergames.