Back in Iquitos

Paul here:

We're back in Iquitos and safe and sound after our jungle adventure. The place we stayed was wonderful and we were able to see many animals and, of course, insects. Holly is going through the thousands of pictures we've taken over the last few days and deleting the ones we don't want to keep in order to make room on our memory cards which are bursting at theirs seams. We didn't bring a computer with us to Iquitos so we have no other place to store them right now.

A more detailed blog entry with tons of pictures will be coming in a day or two (we should have an afternoon off either tomorrow or the day after). But we wanted to let everyone know that we're doing great and truly having the trip of a lifetime.

Estamos en Iquitos

Paul and I are sitting in a hot, sticky internet cafe (El Cyber) on the Plaza de Armas in Iquitos, a city which may hold the record for being the largest city in the world inaccessible by car. Mototaxis rule here, providing the bass to the continued 80s soundtrack of our trip. It´s great... we´re great... and we are safe.

Tomorrow we take off on the Amazon. Over dinner, we learned about several monsters that steal people from the river and jungle. Not counting the mosquitos, crocodiles, and pirranha. So keep your fingers crossed for our safe return on Sunday...

Pampas Visit

Most of Tuesday's pictures are slowing going up. Putting them on the FLCP site seemed much easier than adding them here, so I'm going that route presently.

Tuesday.

We visited the PRIMSA office in Pampas and hiked (literally, hiked... Paul compared it to climbing the walls of the Grand Canyon) through the community. PRISMA has been in Pampas for several decades, building an impressive catalog of information on each family in the community. Many researchers use PRISMA as a base because the Census of the community offers easy access to a sample of families that may be randomly selected from to build a study sample. Diarrheal illnesses abound and have been the center of many research studies and interventions. Due to their work, drastic reductions in infant mortality due to diarrheal illnesses occurred in the late 80s and early 90s (impressive considering the tremendous pressure on the people of Peru during this time).

Pampas is a shantytown community, known as "pueblos jovenes," the result of migrants seeking land of their own within the city of Lima. (Here's a link to read a little about the larger district.) Our friend Angela completed her dissertation in this community and started a nonprofit to support educational scholarships and opportunities for the youth group she started (I sat in on several of her focus groups -- these kids were really great). (FYI: She has her 501c3, so if you are considering a donation to an organization where every penny truly goes *right* to the program, this would be a good one.) Angela is also coming to speak to our class tomorrow morning, before we take off for the jungle. I think I may have a previous post about going out to dinner with her and her husband, Peruvian actor Mijail, while they were in New Orleans... but I'd have to go back and dig around to find it.

But back to Pampas.

One of the physicians I met (and really liked) came and spoke to us in Pampas about the Peruvian health system and about reproductive health issues in Peru. Health in Peru involves a two-tiered system (private and public). There are public programs to help the poor (read: if they can qualify, if they can get in, if they can afford any related treatment, and if there are medicines available in the post clinic to which they'd been assigned) and private hospitals for those who can pay.

And I'm out of time... will finish/update soon.

Most pictures are up.

Heeere, Fishy Fishy

It's been two very full, very long days... with a very early morning tomorrow (we leave at 4am) to visit the fish market in Callou at dawn.

Tomorrow afternoon is "off," which will give time to do the numerous TA jobs keeping me up all night... and to catch up here. I tried to upload yesterday's pictures to Smugmug last night while we slept, and woke up to find it failed. Rat farts. Using a different strategy, we're trying again tonight.

One thought, though: Did Will's voice always sound so angelic? Like the clouds opening up and angels singing? It's all I can do to keep him talking. Thank goodness for Skype.

And a question: Would hearing my voice upset Kate? Apparently, she is missing me... crying periodically for Mommy. Would my singing her to sleep upset her? I'm guessing it might. It's selfish to want to talk to her, too... but what I would give to hear her!

The smell of health

Messages of health and sanitation, provided by Peruvian Ministries of Health (and industry). Not to be confused with messages of health and physical activity, provided by the Ministry... and Coca Cola and Inka Cola. (Wow. Starts to sound a lot like the U.S.?)
We visited an NGO today, one that I visited during our time here and I think wrote about? (Note: go back and see old Peru posts.) It was a great visit. The NGO has been working throughout Peru for several decades, running programs and evaluating them through the tumultuous 80s and 90s... when Peru's economy went crazy (inflation jumping over 7,000% a year) and then stabilized with harsh "Fujishock" -- neoliberal economic conditions which slashed government expenditures on health and education in favor of paying foreign debt to multinationals and selling off state agencies to foreign investors. I can't imagine how to make heads or tails out of anything from 1985-1995, so hat's off to them for making it work and then getting government agencies to carry on several important nutrition programs.

Here is a health worker demonstrating how children under 5 are assessed for nutritional status. The board can be used upright (for older children) or laid flat for babies. The bottom piece slides up and down in order to get an accurate height. (She demonstrates the straight back used to get consistent measures.)
Valerie demonstrates the scale, where children are placed in a diaper-shaped swing to weigh. Weight-to-age scores (called z-scores because they are assessed for how many standard deviations they are from the mean, but that's another class) show if a child is underweight. Weight-to-height scores tell a story about short-term impacts on children, as an acute measure of malnutrition (wasting). Height-to-age scores indicate stunting; a measure of chronic malnutrition. Once a child over the age of 1 is showing stunting, their growth and development are forever impacted. The idea is to prevent stunting, or show a drop in the percentage of stunted children over an intervention period.

One thing to note in the photograph is the guard in the background. Armed guards with bullet-protected vests are everywhere.
On the way back to Barranco, we stopped near Parque Olivar in San Isidro to walk around. Paul and I grabbed an empanada (with spinach and roqueford cheese) to much and we walked past lines of olive trees... complete with growing olives... and an ancient olive press once used by the Spaniards.

The Virgin Mary, complete with well-wishers throwing coins at her feet.
Dinner was pizza off of the Barranco plaza, (local motto: Yo [heart] Barranco, y tu?) while we watched a small herd of kittens tumble down from the vines growing over the patio above us to beg food of artists in the Square. We stopped in the Metro on the walk back to the hostel for thank-you cards for our class speakers. This is where I discovered my New Favorite Thing: scented cards. They must be the rage here, as you can get scented cards for every birthday age and every occasion (including sympathy). I may need to make a serious stationary investment, because really, what says GET WELL better than smell??

A few words about weather in Lima

Lima is situated in an arid, coastal desert -- it never rains here. Spaniards settled Lima mostly because of the location of three rivers which rolled full of glacial melt-off from the Andes into the ocean. Those once plentiful rivers are now trickles of water which still are responsible for providing much of the city with water. If I can, I would like to try and take some photographs of one of the rivers (Rimac, in particular, is my hope -- it is hard to describe the vision of the homes perched precariously on the edges of the riverside, or cliffside, since the river is so low). Water is serious business here. Run on a water platform and you can get elected! I read somewhere that roughly half of the population of the city of Lima uses less water per day that is recommended for survival in refugee camps. I myself have seen mothers clean their children's faces with dry rags... sort of re-arranging dust and dirt in want of some water to help the job along. Fights over the barrels of water filled outside of homes in shantytowns are not uncommon, bringing along all sorts of questions about how one develops a new community, how settlement should occur, and how new settlements should be laid out with respect to household water supplies.

It is winter here, cold and damp. La garua, a fine mist that hangs through the air of the city, keeps everything damp... and without the benefit of indoor heating, there is no escape. Imagine living in a tiny crowded tent, with a dirt floor and woven mats for walls and ceiling, with a constant drizzle drifting into your clothes to your skin. Even with relatively warm temperatures in the 60s, this constant cool translates to a cold that sets deep in your bones. Respiratory illnesses, including TB (and more alarming, rising cases of MDR-TB) are widespread.

So far, we've handled the weather with fleece and layers. It's been pleasant, even though the grey skies and near shadowless days remind me of those impossible Michigan winters when I felt that the world existed only in 2-dimensions of grayscale color. Thankfully, the damp air is warm enough for plants... doorsteps and courtyards are filled with geraniums, cacti, ficus, coleus, and other bright and colorful foliage.

Sleep, Eat, Sleep, Eat

Our first full day in Lima was wonderful. The hostel is fantastic; incredibly clean, comfortable, welcoming, and very well-located. The courtyard opens up to the main road in Barranco (Ave. Grau) and is about 5 blocks from the Plaza (Barranco center). You must be let in by staff at all hours to enter, which makes us feel very secure. Here is a picture of the courtyard, typical for homes in the area:
Note the flag in the background. They are *Every Where*... as I understand it, there was some sort of important meeting (IFM?) in town and these were part of the government's sprucing up initiative? Not sure, but as we continue to see them in every part of the city, I'll keep asking and find out more.

We slept in until 9 am, which is like sleeping all day long compared to what we're used to. Breakfast (tamales, oranges, rolls, jam) was waiting for us. We ventured down the street to the Metro (grocery store) to visit a Claro kiosk and see if we could get my phone to work. Eventually, we managed to do this... mostly because I ended up helping the girl working the booth bandage up her badly cut thumb and she went the extra mile in explaining the card process to me (I'd forgotten how to make it work). We picked up a Carreta (local magazine) and headed back to the hostel, where Valerie, Eric and Diego had just arrived.

We had a suitcase of stuff for them and so followed them back to their house, which is gorgeous. They have done a great deal of work... renovation, landscaping, tile... and it is really cozy and comfortable. There is a beautiful courtyard in the center, where I noticed the World's Largest Poinsettia plant... grown up into a tree at least 20 feet high and cascading into the courtyard:
Diego just turned 8 months and is an absolute pleasure. Such a happy baby! Being around him makes it easier to be away our kids, whom we already miss.
After some chatting, the five of us took the scenic route along the Pacific Ocean-side park to downtown Barranco. We walked past parishoners coming out of the cathedral into the Plaza to enjoy palomitas de maiz (popcorn... literally translated, little doves of corn -- one of my favorite words in Spanish) and up to La Mesitas ("Little Tables," a restaurant) where we shared several classic Peruvian drinks and meals... including Chincha Morada, Papas de la Huancaina, Lomo Saltado, Aji de Gallina, and another potato meal that is escaping me at the moment. In the window front of the restaurant, beyond the upright piano where a woman pounded out criollo tunes, was a chilled display case full of desserts. I can't remember any of these names, but the three that we shared were awesome. So much for my Peruvian weight-loss plan!

All this chatting and eating made us tired, so we went back to the hostel and napped. (Hey, our travel day started at 3:30am the day before, so it wasn't like we didn't need sleep.) After nap, eating seemed to be the right thing to do. So off we went to Parque Kennedy, which was in the neighborhood we stayed in when we lived here two years ago. Actually, we went in Parque Kennedy in part because we wanted to go to the department store there, Ripley, because we thought it was a good place to potentially find a watch battery (my watch is dead). Long story short: at least 10 people in 10 different stores in 10 very different locations have told us that "the guy/store/place around the corner does this" yet we have been completely unsuccessful thus far in repairing the watch. *sigh*

BUT, we did see an incredibly cool performance artist, who used a special buzzing device (we think in his mouth) to mimic robot-sounds coordinated with his movement. He was very very good and we thoroughly enjoyed it along with the rest of the crowd:




Finally, we got down to the business of eating, which we did right on the park. We were enjoying the evening when I looked up and saw the beautiful stained glass work of the building next to us... overshadowed by the obnoxious glow of the Nestle sign, under one of the ubiquitous flags. It wasn't the photo I was wanting to capture as the sun set (all I had on hand was the 50mm) but still, I think the elements tell a good story of Lima.

Here is Paul's dinner... Bistec con arroz, huevo, banana, y papas.

Estamos Aqui

Three flights, no delays, Green taxi, no hitches.

Some notes: Spirit does not give anything on flights... no drinks, snacks, or meals. Drinks and snacks are available only for credit card purchase... when their credit card machine is working. Pack a dinner.

Even with lack of meal on 6 hour flight, Spirit was worth it because we booked early and paid an extra $20 for one of 8 "big front seat" seats. Awesome.

Paul and I are sharing a 'habitacion matrimonal' with a shared bathroom in One Hostel in Barranco, which has it's own facebook page. It's very clean.

So far, the constant soundtrack has been 80s pop... Tears for Fears, Eurthymics, Men Without Hats. Resting and settling tomorrow... Monday morning we start with the course orientation.

Worth the two minute read, even if you're trying to dash off to another continent

Nails. It.

There are many reasons Clinton is losing the nomination contest, some having to do with her strategic mistakes, others with the groundswell for "change." But for all Clinton's political blemishes, the darker stain that has been exposed is the hatred of women that is accepted as a part of our culture.

h/t: laloca, who should keep reading the morning news

Sudden Milestone

After a rough night with "no crib" Kate, I posted her crib on Craigslist. We're now sporting $150 and have a used toddler bed that Kate is spending her first night in.

Tomorrow, Paul will pick up another Craigslist toddler bed... with mattress, Spiderman quilt, sheet & pillowcase... for Will. We think that the character draw will entice him away from his super-comfy pillowtop double bed.

We may not have a tub, shower, sink, vanity, porch, or study together for my Mom and Aunt Linda while they watch the kids while we're away... but both of them will get their own beds!

And Will and Kate get to share a room for a little longer...

The Recap.

The last three weeks.

We had a week-long visit from:
Nana. Who brought presents, time, patience, and recipes. The day she left, Kate wandered around calling "Naaaaa-Naaaah, Where ARE youuuuuuu?" (Subtext: "Save me from these crazy people!")
Having a third adult in the house was a huge relief. It was also well-timed, because the day she left and returned us to a house of two adults, we downloaded a child.

He was thrilled to be spending almost a week away from home, his parents, and his particularly his sister. In Will's words: "Mommy, I needed a break from that crazy girl. She's too much for me." I dropped Will off with my Mom in Gulfport (our half-way meeting place) and he joined Granna and PapPap on a trip to visit my brother and sister-in-law. (My incredible sister-in-law, who by all accounts spent 5 hours a day on the floor re-reading the same books and cards so patiently to the-ever-curious-Will, has posted adorable photos from the trip.)

While Will was away from home for the longest time ever, Paul turned 38 on May 5th. This is remarkable only because I told at least 3 people that he was turning 36. I also wrote that I was 30 on a doctor's form a few months ago and only realized the mistake because "date of birth" and "today's date" were close enough together to make me do the math. I'm not forgetting little things, I'm actually forgetting years. It must mean that it's time for us to have some sort of life crisis.

Also on Cinco de Mayo, our friends Alex and Dawit were married. (The wedding date was chosen because it's Alex's birthday, too.) In between a day of picking up tiles, switching cars, dropping off kids, and buying paint, I took photos of the event and you can see them here.

Meanwhile, back at the station, the house continues.

Drywall took a long time. There were delivery problems. Supply problems. And daily layers of drywall dust... dirty, gritty, drywall dust... ALL OVER the bedrooms and hallway each evening to mop, dust, polish, and wash off. And, we're back to no washer and dryer. Still, the crew (comprised of a husband and wife) did a very good job.

Here's the site of the future cat-door to Scout's litter-box "room" under the washer and dryer.
Outside, Paul spent a good 20 hours on the roof over 2 days. It's done, although these pictures show it as still-in-progress.

Now that it's done, I'm thinking we may finally be able to remove the ever-present can of Goo Gone from our shower?
We discovered that Kate can work the garden hose. WATCH OUT.
Note that Will's head is soaking wet. Coincidence with that last picture? I think not.
Kate also discovered an obsessive love of ice. Workers (read: Daddy) must carefully guard their precious cups ice water, lest it be plundered by the Sweet Pea with the dirty hands.
Also: Kate loves Crabby Jack. Oysters. Shrimp. And duck. (Domilise's for Roast Beef, though, of course.)
Kate turned 2 and got presents. Including ELMO UNDERWEAR from Gwen & Co. Here she is, putting on Every Single Pair.
And dancing.
My Fellowship Year officially began with our Orientation Retreat. At first it was going to be an overnight event, but it was shortened to a Really Long Day in Baton Rouge. Who knew the LSU campus was so darn pretty??? The group is inspiring and interesting; I left the day feeling an unexpected excitement for the coming year. We did a variety of team-building exercises, including ropes. I surprised myself by having fun, and realizing that my recently-developed fear of heights is more extreme than I thought. I was Very Impressed with the folks that climbed the 60 foot pole, stood up, and jumped for the trapeze. Here's Jonathan, the only one to touch the bar, in one of my favorite pictures from the day:
This one of Kemi is probably my favorite:
Meanwhile, back at the station, drywall finished. Tile started.
Tomorrow, the base of the washer/dryer platform will be grouted and trimmed... so we're hoping to have these back by Wednesday?Paul ALMOST finished the plumbing today while I wrangled kids and house. The tub plumbing is hooked up and tested perfectly. The ONE LEAK in his intricate shower plumbing? It wasn't from a failed joint... it was a failed PIPE.
The darn elbow had a crack and hole. When Paul went to Lowe's to get another elbow, he came home with the wrong kind. When he went back to trade, they were closed. As was Home Depot. Plumbing to Paul is like Cryptonite to Superman. Utterly defeated and forced to wait until the morning... because, after all, tomorrow is another day.

Training and Education

McCain feels that women don't need Fair Pay, they need "training and education."

I have a fantasy where his office is swamped -- a-la Harry Potter and letters from Hogwarts -- with resumes from thousands of well trained and educated women.

Help make this picture-perfect image a reality by signing up and sending here.

And while you're riding the activism wave, go on over here and tell the APA that naming Kenneth Zucker (yup, the maniac from the recent NPR series) to the position of Chair of the Sexual and Gender Identity Disorders on the DSM-V Committee was a Really Bad Move. (h/t: GG)

Mother's Day is... June 22.

There is no holiday more important to me than Mother's Day. Forget me any and everyday of the year and it's alright ... Birthdays? we stopped celebrating those when I was a teenager. Christmas? too commercialized and consumer-driven. Easter? Thanksgiving? Labor Day? Nope, those are all working holidays for Moms.

But this year, Mother's Day falls at just the Wrong Time. The day after my all-day Fellow's retreat and 6 days before Paul and I leave for Peru. We are overwhelmed between renovation progress, our 4 (5?) combined jobs, the kids, preparing course materials, and getting ourselves ready to leave at the end of the week. I have a two page long "to-do" list and nowhere on that list are there things that deal with packing (do we even have luggage?), trip preparation (should we start taking our anti-malarials?), or personal concerns (it's been 5 months since your last haircut, maybe a trim wouldn't hurt?).

So, we rescheduled Mother's Day. Granted -- Paul STILL managed to make magic happen by getting Will to wake me up with sweet kisses and "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy" whispered into my ear. I opened my eyes to both kids holding up drawings they'd made for me. Paul also took to the kitchen again to make my favorite egg-in-toast this morning (after I had already fed and dressed the kids, but hey) and even took the kids to Whole Foods the day before where they picked out beautiful hydrangea blossoms for me to enjoy. These are definitely the makings of a good Mother's Day... but I'm holding out for a true day of rest and relaxation.

This is following a pattern of the last few weeks, which have held several notable days of import: including my own Mother's birthday (April 29th) and dear husband's birthday (May 5th). I did manage to call my Mom the day after her birthday AND arranged a babysitter last minute to take Paul out for a free birthday steak at O'Henry's (he's been craving steak -- when you fall off the vegetarian wagon, you fall hard) -- so it's not like nothing happened for these events, but still. One wants to have some time to dedicate a bit of thought and effort into these noteworthy milestones. This spring, our house is all about the rain check.

Happy Birthday, BabyCakes

When you were born, I made one specific request: "Please, Kate, don't grow as fast as your brother. I need to stay little just a little bit longer..." Apparently, doing what you're told has not exactly been a strong suit. Good thing you're cute.

Fresh out:
Two weeks (Will is 2 1/2):
Four months:
(with Will, almost 3):

7 months:
12 months:


15 months:
17 months:
18 months:
23 months:

To Kate, who, exactly two years ago, I was in mortal agony over

Really, we were in mortal agony; I may have been fighting through scarring with "contractions from hell," but you were swallowing your own poop. Even before you were born, you were fighting through filth, beating the odds. What can I say? It means you're totally my girl.


Lately, I've been reading up on 24 month milestones. The American Academy of Pediatrics says that you should be climbing off of furniture independently, walking up and down stairs with support, scribble, use simple phrases, imitate others, play make-believe, and show defiant behavior. Based on this information, I feel I can reasonably assume that what everyone is saying is true: you're way ahead of the game. You crawled at five months. You walked at nine months. You've been speaking in sentences for months. At this rate, you may finish your dissertation before I finish mine.

As for your dissertation, maybe it will be on fashion? You've got a real flare for trend-setting. Hats for warmth? Nah, it's all about fashion. Who cares if it's 80 degrees? It still might snow.
Your Nana was in town for a week, two weeks ago (this shows that your rapid development is a direct threat to my regular blogging). Her professional (and only partially biased) insight is what really drove it home, "being with Kate is just like being with any 2-year old... until you realize that she is not 2."
Your fierce independence is starting to mess with our household set-up. You still don't consistently sleep through the night, and we've run into problems with putting you back in your crib. Like the other night, when you popped out your Abby from a solid sleep to clearly tell your father: "DADDY, NO BACK IN CRIB." Since then, getting you to sleep in your crib is a major challenge. You slept on Will's bed three nights in a row while he spent a week with Granna and PapPap's at Uncle Skip and Aunt Emily's (his first trip with the grandparents and longest time ever away from Mom). The last two nights, you've been sleeping soundly in a twin bed at the apartment downtown. You're ALMOST 2 and have made it clear you're done with being fenced in. You've also made strides in potty training, something else which you have begun without warning, by your own choice, with your own rules. As with most things, we've decided that the best course of action is to let you control the situation. The last thing we want is for you to realize that you could make some serious power plays in your pottying.


Our plan was to start after we got back from Peru. Your plan was to be potty trained before swim season, and you're doing a great job of getting there. The biggest issue? You lose patience on the pot... sometimes before you're finished. We've tried to encourage you to bring reading material to keep you on the pot longer. It doesn't work for long.

You and Will are forever locked in battle. You cannot be in the same room without touching each other, and any contact results in a complete attack. My Grandmother had a phrase in Ukrainian, "From Laughter to Tears" which accurately describes every 5 minutes between you and Will. This has brought a new phase in our household: you and Will cannot be compelled to do anything unless your father or I have a conniption fit. I actually think that time outs, forced separation, and injuries bring comfort to you both: you cannot go to bed each night without at least a dozen or so of each of the above. It must bring a necessary order and balance to your lives. Also, it whittles away at my sanity, which is probably your main intent.
You had a full conversation on the phone tonight with your PapPap. You told him about your "ow-ee" which you got about a month ago when your friend Anya pushed you on the porch at school. You tell everyone about your ow-ee, which is now a scar so faint that one has to remember the injury in order to realize that there ever was an ow-ee in that spot. You also told him about the shoes by the door (the ones that were covered in debris and dust and I painstakingly washing and cleaned), about your dinner, and about Will. You may have also told him the winning lotto numbers for tonight, we can't be sure, because we're still reaching to figure out all of what you say. You've got an awful lot coming out, but we're lucky to catch half.



We are so thrilled with every moment with you. I am so worried about our coming trip... how will I manage three weeks away from you? Maybe a more important question is how are your Granna and Aunt Linda going to handle caring for you? They cannot be prepared for the cuteness that awaits them. I'm telling you right now: if we come back and there is a pony in the yard, I don't care who gave it to you... it's not staying.
Happy Birthday, Baby Kate! We are so proud of you!