My house is located right at the center of town by the Plaza de Armas and is more of a store and restaurant than a house. Customers stream into the restaurant all day and help themselves to a drink as they await heaping plates of rice, goat, chicken or duck. Everybody knows everybody, so people pass freely back through the kitchen. There are constantly dead animals ready to be cooked filling the “backyard” and animal skins drying on a clothesline next to the family’s laundry. Just behind this is a hallway with three small rooms, one of which is my bedroom. I can hear everything that happens around me, considering its just thin walls and a giant window to the hallway. I do have lights and electricity, and some sort of water, so it could be worse. Regardless, it is interesting but surely I will become accustomed in no time.

This is about 3 feet from my bedroom. Please note the animal skins hanging on the line.

I woke up to the hustle and bustle of the store and restaurant that is literally 5 steps outside of my bedroom. I got dressed and found my community partners and their peers drinking coffee in the restaurant, so I sat down and was thrown into the day before I had time to fully open my eyes. Most of the people I met are staff members at the health post, including the head doctor, an orthodontist, psychologist, and NGO worker. Although that may seem like a strange combination, they all work closely with the youth of Poroto and I am hoping I’ll be able to develop great working relationships with them to reach the adolescents here. I was supposed to have a welcome reception complete with the playing of the national anthem and a speech, but in true Peruvian fashion the meeting kept getting pushed back until we decided we would just walk around to introduce myself instead. I was able to meet a significant portion of community leaders, and several of the younger staff from the health post ate lunch with me at my host family’s restaurant.

After lunch I went to see the town mirador (lookout point) with Maria and her little cousin, Enrique. From the mirador I could see the tiny town of Poroto encircled by mountains and fields. Most of the houses are constructed from mud adobe bricks and tin roofs, and there is a Plaza de Armas, church, and municipality building at the center of town. We wondered past the mirador through the fields of pineapple, avocado trees, and sugar cane. I never knew how pineapple grew, but it was really neat to see. It grows from the ground in long rows and the bushes look like enlarged pineapple tops sprouting from the soil, but the growing pineapples rest on top of these sprouting leaves. We followed the water aqueducts from Poroto to the next small town of Shiran, and along the way we passed farmers harvesting their crops and donkeys, bulls, and sheep wondering in the fields. The surrounding mountains and flying birds provided a beautiful backdrop for our little hike. When we reached Shiran we crossed a bridge over the river to stop by their abuelita’s (grandmother) house who greeted us with water and fresh oranges. Animals have free reign in this country, so the newborn puppies and kittens were wondering in and out of her house as they wrestled amongst themselves. We walked back alongside the road as moto-taxis whizzed by. After our walk I ate dinner in the restaurant with some locals. My family seems incredibly busy with their tienda and restaurant and are all currently attending to their customers. I still hadn’t had a chance to talk to my host mom because she’s been furiously preparing food for this weekend’s festival, so I decided to sit with her in the kitchen after dinner and she was nonchalantly beheading ducks through the duration of our conversation.

Later, one of my counterparts stopped by with some of his friends and introduced me, so we talked about Poroto and some of their visions for its development as I tried to choke down the Inca Cola they poured for me. (Inca Cola= yellow bubblegum flavored soda that people here think is liquid gold and I think is the most disgusting beverage in the world). Anyway, it was interesting to hear their thoughts about their town, especially when relaying them to me as a foreigner in their town. They seem interested in promoting tourism, but unsure of the best way to do so in such a small town.

The dynamic of Poroto is really interesting; it is a very small town of about 200 families where 80% are involved in agriculture work and the others own small tiendas or restaurants and most professionals commute to and from Trujillo. It is a striking juxtaposition of resources and modernity, because poverty is evident and most people live in small adobe houses, but they have television, newly created internet connections, and easy access to Trujillo. Their access to technology and a big city seems to influence their modern (often bordering provocative) dress and acknowledgment of pop culture.