Gettin' Down in Funky Town

Here are the foto's (Spanish spelling) of me cutting’ a rug with Peruvian men, young and old, short and tall. This picture on the right is moments after I walked into the wedding and was forced to dance with the groom who I had never met before, on the first dance. Notice the bride in the back round? I didn't even introduce myself, the only words I spoke to him were "yeah, I'm tall" or for those of you who a speak a little Spanish, the exact quote was "ya se, soy muy alta". The picture on the left is me dancing with one of the many old men who would not let me sit down. Literally, every time I tried to rest, a man would walk over and offer his hand. This is something that just doesn’t happen in the states. I'm so used to dancing in a circle with a group of girls and if a boy wants to dance with one of the girls, he has to shimmy his way over to the circle and some how successfully infiltrate the group and then widdel down the dance space so that he is finally dancing one on one with the girl. It seems very silly the way young American dance norms have evolved, but I like it better because you aren't forced to give a harsh and direct no to the man offering his hand, but instead you can passively electric slide your way in the opposite direction from him.

The day after the wedding, every one in the town who was at the wedding told me I was a crazy dancer. I still don't know if this is a good thing of a bad thing. It's good in the sense that Peruvians get a big kick outta the Gringa who bounces up and down in stead of doing a rhythmic two-step. I definitely felt a lot of eyes on me as I was dancing and it makes really uncomfortable. I just want to cut loose, have a good time and not care what other people think. But that is very difficult when you are the whitest, tallest person in the room that apparently gets down like James Brown. I know I have a very unique style of dancing. So much so that people can imitate me dancing to a T, and watching this makes me bury my face in my hands. I am such a looser.
One thing that would be so cool to get out of living in south America for two years would be to learn how to dance like a Latin. Salsa lessons are very popular amongst PCV's. I always look so enviously at people who clearly know what they are doing on a dance floor. I have this fantasy where I will come back to the states after my service and magically be able to move my hips like a Shakira.

On a completely different note, I swore off coffee. I knew I wasn't addicted and I don't believe that drinking coffee is bad for you. I just wanted to try it. I think this is a result of having entirely too much time on my hands and having to find new ways to amuse myself. I've been off coffee for 4 weeks now. And while I swear I'm not physically addicted, it was kinda hard at first because I like it so dang much. It's not so much the actual taste nor the caffeine I like, but it's the social act of sitting down with a cup a joe in the morning and reading, or taking a coffee break and enjoying a cup in solitude for 5 minutes while 20 children are running around and screaming outside. It hasn't been too hard for me though, cause I just switched to drinking more tea.

Peru has turned me into a liquid fiend. It seems like at any given moment in the day, I am drinking either water, tea, coffee (well, not anymore) juice or alcohol. Every day I drink 2.5 liters of water. On top of that I am probably putting down 4-6 cups a tea a day. In the morning I go to a fruit cart across the street from my house and get fresh squeezed orange juice or fresh squeezed pineapple juice. I'm also a huge fan or their blended juices here, where they take a fruit like mango or banana, put it in a blender, add milk and batta-bing, a fresh fruit smoothie. And of course on the weekends there is a ritual alcohol consumption. All this liquid intake, I believe, is just another byproduct of having far too much time on my hands. But I'll tell you one thing, I feel healthy and hydrated which is pretty much all one can ask for while training for a marathon. And really, running a marathon is all just a farce to stay in shape so I can bogie wall night with old Peruvian men.