Life in the Selva region of Peru

One of the plazas near home centers around a statue of liberty-like statue.

The same plaza is surrounded by flowering trees/shrubs and matching orange lamp posts.

Plazas are great places to pause within the busy city and sit on a bench or under a tree.

Cultura Peruana:

Finishing up my fifth week in Peru, I think I can make some distinctions about the culture of Moyobamba. A person from this city is called a moyobambino or a moyocho. A boyfriend from this city is called a mosho.When a Peruvian says “sure, I’ll be there” or “yeah, I might come,” don’t expect an arrival or an apology for the absence—commitments are rarely final and there is no recognized fault committed when you are left waiting. If you call to clarify that the person is coming to a confirmed meeting, they might say, “on my way,” meaning that they just awoke and will eat a meal and plan to leave in about half an hour, arriving in about an hour. Even large social events start no sooner than 45 minutes after the announced time. I think it is safe to say that Peru functions under a polychromic definition of time, focusing on relationships instead of tasks. For someone who is accustomed to a fixed schedule (operating under a monochromic definition of time in which ‘tasks get done’), a book to read or bracelet to weave is a great companion and aid in enjoying the tranquility of Peruvian culture.

In the center of the market, hard-working Peruanos are depicted.

The city’s municipality building.

The city’s Catholic church.

…and the two next to each other, right off the central plaza (the jail makes a third border with the plaza). As described by the Honduran anthropologist, Don Caranza, such is the typical distribution of a Spanish settled center.

A dry fountain on the central plaza depicting the city’s nickname—the orchid city.

An important historic figure (no doubt backed by the Catholic church).

It is customary to greet adults (but not children) in the street/home with at least two but sometimes four variations of hola, buenas tardes, ¿què tal?, ¿còmo estàs? (hello, good afternoon, what’s up?, how are you?). This is great as it shows a sense of eagerness in the greeting, but I have found it strange that you are not expected to respond how you are doing (in fact it takes people off guard when you respond). I suppose a similar thing has happened in American culture (only that it is customary to respond, ‘good’ and no more or less). When meeting someone (even if names are not exchanged) gringas are usually asked to explain their origin and business in the country. I think I have my immigrant history script down pat: “I was born in a country near Russia, but my family moved when I was five and we have lived in the States for nearly fourteen years.” …That’s a bit longer than “I’m from Germany,” but does justice for my history. Peruvians are friendly in word and deed and have many nicknames for their customers, host daughters, and family memebers: corazòncita, mamita, amorcita, mi reina, hijita, niñita, amigita, bonita, amor mia, cremacita, carnecita, huesita (little heart, little mama, little love, my kingdom, little daughter, little child, little friend, cutie, my love, little cream, little meat, little bone), and probably anything else imaginable with –ita at the end. It pleasantly sets the tone of daily interactions between folks. Another pleasant custom is to greet and salute with a handshake, kiss on the cheek, and/or hug. When at social gatherings, ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ take a while but reflect a genuine happiness to interact with people earnestly. I hope to bring back some of these warm customs to the States.

The Presbyterian church that I attend with my host family is presenting a theatrical representation of Jesus’ last days and these stilt-walking boys are helping spread the word with pamphlets.

The city’s professional training university, offering degrees in dentistry. The school clinic is on the left.

Walking is the main mode of transportation in the city, although moto-cars and motorcycles are always buzzing by. As explained by a local, it is a Peruvian man’s duty to express his delight when a lady passes. Laura, the nurse from Holland, says she finds it useful to imagine their ‘psst’ as what is involved in the inflation of a tire—she hasn’t thought of a useful substitute for whistling. Often, it seems necessary to point out that light-skinned people are not from the city by stating, “gringa!” I am not sure what response is required or anticipated. Francis, my host sister, once returned this greeting with “Peruano!” and the greeters looked a bit confused—as if it was not natural to point out something that is in its appropriate place. Something that I hadn’t noticed but bothers Laura and Francis immensely (as they are from  Holland and Germany) is the assumption that all gringas speak English. Efforts are often made to greet with, “hello” or “how are you?” and other less dignified variations. Once in a while, Laura and Francis respond in Dutch or German or explain in Spanish that they do not speak English. Living in Peru for almost a year, Laura and Francis have grown tired of constantly negotiating fair prices with the moto-taxis or at the market. On Caucasian friend of theirs has lived in Peru for eight years and says she still is treated as a foreigner and ‘doesn’t belong’ outside of a small social circle of locals. When awaiting a car/van at the paradero (a garage or station), drivers are always eager to offer a ride to the airport city. Seeing a light-skinned person, they eagerly ask, “Tarapoto?” It seems that understanding the culture and living in it for an extended period does not easily yield acceptance—racial (skin-color) differences are not easily overcome in a generally homogenous population of beautifully toned Latinos. In fact, Francis accounted that in some villages, she was very poorly received as part of the development team because it is accepted (as superstition or reality) that gringas steal children. I say reality because ‘baby-selling’ or child abduction is common and perhaps some of these cases involve white ‘adoptive parents.’ Even when one village’s children finally accepted to play with her, a mother angrily informed Francis the next day that her child was feverish because of playing with her (the child had drunk water out of a dirty puddle where they washed hands after a craft). The difficulties of complex cross-cultural/racial interaction suggest that gringas may do better to serve in their homelands and allow culturally accepted people to do unhindered work amidst their people. But I suspect that even in the diverse society of the States, there are boundaries to work around before one is accepted into a local and unique place.

I am enjoying the abundant rains of the Selva region of Peru and the tranquil lifestyle to which they likely (at least in a small part) contribute [is this an example of evolution of culture due to climate?!]. It is hard to believe that in three weeks I will be back in the place that I have been claiming home, although its reality as such has been wearing off for the past three months. I look forward to a Peruvian Easter weekend and spending the following week in villages, starting to meet with community families to identify problems and set goals for attaining a healthy family.