Yesterday evening I arrived back in Chiclayo after my final weekend “in the field.” Which is a slightly humourous expression considering there was a point this weekend in which I was in an actual field, in the pitch dark, with mud up to my ankles, on the side of a mountain…
As my days in Peru come to an end, this might just be the last exciting entry I have to offer…
I am told that we will leave Chiclayo at 8am and that Isabel will pick me and my interpreter up at the hotel. Fernando came recommended by Delia, my interpreter from the previous weekend who I got along with very well and so I was hoping the same would be said about Fernando when it was all done and over with. So Fernando met me here at my hotel at 7.30am and of course, Isabel was running on Peruvian time, so didn´t show up until 9am. Despite the message that constantly being late and not caring about time gives about taking time to enjoy life and not letting a schedule rule your life, it is an aspect of Peruvian culture that I doubt I would ever be able to embrace.
When we arrive at the bus station I am not surprised to discover that we had missed the bus. We then went to a “collectivo” station to try our luck there. To aid your imagination, many of the collectivo´s in Peru look like this -
The collectivo station was complete mayhem, with about 100 collectivo´s leaving for different destinations and a thousand people trying to jam themselves into each one. We found one headed for our direction and I nestled into my plastic seat. While waiting we were swarmed by people of all ages trying to sell us everything from plastic airplanes to flip flops to penny candies. While you´d think that ignoring them would work best, it turns out that a loud NO is about the only thing that will make them go away.
The collectivo ride was about 3 hours and while the scenerey was nice (farms of cotton, sugar cane and corn that stretched as far as the eye could see), my body has yet to find a way to adjust to the discomfort that these trips bring.
When I was told about this trip, I was told that it would be a three or four hour bus ride. So when we stopped in a small town, I thought we had made it. But no – the “three hour bus ride” was only the first quarter of the trip! I swear Isabel fails to tell me all the details because she knows it is the only way of wrangling me into coming!
Anyway, I guess Isabel thought that taking a collectivo at 9.30am would somehow magically make us arrive in the town at the same time as the bus that had left at 8am so that we could transfer for the rest of the way. This is why sociologists don´t do math, even though I could have figured that one out for her!
We found a man on the corner who told us we could catch a truck at 1pm, so we went for lunch and made it back before 1pm, only to find that the man had disappeared and there was no truck to be found. We waited for awhile and I became to accept the idea that this trip might be a bust. Then along came a truck…. Now, I can´t find a picture online of this, so you´ll have to use your imagination. The truck is like a Budget cube truck – one of the shorter ones. Except they´ve cut the roof off and replaced it with “benches” made of 2×2 pieces of wood. The truck is filled with people and packages – pop, beer, coffee, etc. – and chickens. The benches that make up the roof, are where more people sit. There is nothing to protect them or hold them in place.
So yes, I found myself climbing a makeshift ladder to the top of the benches, were I sat between two men who looked at me like a complete alien. I´m not sure if there is another mode of transportation that is more uncomfortable than this one. I was being bounced along on my two inches of wood, trying desperately to get a grip on it so I wouldn´t end up flailing over the sides. Meanwhile, I have to keep a sharp eye because the branches from the trees that lined the road threatened to take out my eyes at any given moment. Little did I know that this would be my destiny for another three hours. Along the way, the men on the truck decided to play me english songs they had on their cell phones (people may not have electricity in these areas, but they all have cell phones) and try to get me to sing along. If there was some Britney, I MIGHT have entertained them, but I just smiled politely and pretended I had no idea what was going on. We stopped in a village for lunch and since we´d already eaten, we stayed on board. A Peruvian man then told me that there was a woman in La Florida (the region we were heading for) who was “just like you.” I was intrigued at the thought of a blue eyed Peruvian with pasty skin, but it ended up he meant that there was another researcher there from the United States.
Once back on the road, it started to rain and out came sheets of plastic to keep us covered. We didn´t get far before we ran into a roadblock – three giant piles of rocks in the middle of the road. We got out to walk, but ended up deciding to wait when we saw a tractor on its way to clear the rocks. So there I was, standing in the pouring rain and being eaten alive by strange bugs, any one of which could kill me.
Thankfully, in less than an hour, we were back on the road and four hours after leaving in the truck, we arrived in La Florida. At this point my bottom was in far worse pain than it was after the horse riding of last weekend and I was utterly exhausted.
As soon as our feet hit the ground, we started to walk. I was hoping that we were heading for Sabina´s house, the woman we were staying with that night. We were in fact doing so, but after an hour of walking, I realized it wasn´t exactly close by. Another hour passed and it started to get dark. The path was muddy and rocky, and all uphill. This brings us to the field I mentioned earlier. Apparently it was a short cut, and for whatever reason, I was elected to lead the way. This is how I found myself standing in a field in the pitch dark, mud up to my ankles, with absolutely no sense of direction. I could do little more than walk straight and after another hour, we found ourselves in a forest. At this point Isabel remembers she brought a flashlight, which I´m not sure if this was a good thing or not because I can now see some of the scary shadows that linger around us.
Eventually, after three and a half hours of walking, we make it to Sabina´s house. It was a full 12 hours after initially leaving Chiclayo city and we were all exhausted. Sabina cooked us up some potatoes and made us coffee. Fernando, who doesn´t normally drink coffee, did a full 180 after a cup and was suddenly awake and chipper. It was pretty funny and we had some great conversations. Thanks to his excellent interpretation skills, I was actually able to join the conversations around me and we ended up staying up until nearly 1am.
After a 5 hour nap, we woke up and Sabina and her husband showed me around a bit of their land. It was pretty amazing to see the infrastructure they had built to select the best quality coffee and it was great to finally be able to take some pictures of the coffee plants that seemed to grow absolutely everywhere (every other weekend it´s been raining and I haven´t had many good photo opportunities). We did an interview with Sabina which turned out to be the best interview of my trip.
For breakfast we had rice and beans and potatoes and some sort of meat. I was having a hard time getting any actual meat from my piece and this is when Isabel commented that Americans don´t like to eat pig. I thought it was weird that my meat was pork since it tasted mroe like chicken, but then Fernando clarified that what I was actually eating was guinie pig.
Before we knew it, we were late (of course) and had to squeeze our four hour walk into three in order to make it to the bus in time. There was no way I was going to miss the bus so I decided to put my “grad student walk” into effect. By some kind miracle, we actually made it the town with time to spare and I was able to watch as the bags of coffee were loaded on to the truck for Chiclayo. It was quite funny to see men who were my height, hoist a bag of coffee onto their shoulder and carry it on when in Canada, it takes at least two guys to carry it five feet.
Isabel introduced me to a few people and then told me to interview them. I remember the first time I was told to give an impromtu interview here and I had a complete stress attack. However, my skills have obviously advanced because I had no problem turning on the old recorder and thinking of things to ask.
Needless to say, our 1pm bus didn´t show until 2pm. Regardless, it got us back to Chiclayo in record time.
I awoke today to find my body completely stiff and in more pain than last weekend. It was all I could do to bandage my feet with second skin, as they are covered in blisters. Even as I sit here, my muscles ache in terrible pain and I can hear my bottle of tylenol calling my name.
There will be more updates to come, since my Peruvian adventure is not over quite yet, but as for official field research here, I am done. I will share more thoughts on this later, but as of now, I really need to rest…
