McKinley in Peru

About a week before I came home from Huanchaco, Peru, my mom called to finalize some travel plans. She said she missed me and couldn’t wait to see me. I felt terrible when I couldn’t say it back. Of course it would be wonderful to see her again, but I was enjoying myself and learning so many wonderful things in Peru. I wasn’t ready to come home yet. It felt strange calling the U.S. “home” when I also felt perfectly at home in Huanchaco. My heart was divided between two places.

I never thought I could feel out of place in the United States. Nor did I think it possible that I could forget, after only a short time, the social constructs I have known all my life. Yet being back in the U.S., I have to constantly remind myself that I have the right of way as a pedestrian, that used toilet paper goes in the toilet and not a waste basket, and that it isn’t appropriate to kiss strangers on the cheek after only a brief conversation.

Aside from those few hiccups, my journey home has been full of reflection and introspection. I am realizing that there are many things I desperately love and miss about Peru. I miss the relaxed time-tables, the delicious locally-grown foods, taking siestas, the constant music playing in the streets, and the rich culture. The hardest adjustment is being away from the people I grew close to.  My peers and professor became my family. A group of kind, generous locals became my dear friends. I value the relationships I formed, so it is strange living without them. Before coming home, I recommend gathering contact information for anyone you wish to stay in contact with. And take pictures with the new people in your life so you can relive the amazing experiences.

 

 

Being back in the United States, I have become consciously aware of certain amenities that I sorely missed in Peru. It is really nice having garbage cans readily available in public spaces. It is also nice that bathrooms come stocked with their own toilet paper. Knowing that drinking water is filtered, safe, and free of disease is also a great comfort. Drinking fountains, too, are a pleasant feature. I also never realized how much I appreciate enforced traffic laws.

Now that I’ve returned home, I’ve been able to recognize some major differences between the U.S. and Peru. In Peru (currently) prices are very low and reasonable for foods, clothing, transportation, and artisan goods. The majority of foods and goods are locally produced. Coming back to the U.S., I have been frustrated by the comparatively high costs for the same items. I miss having organic foods, handmade products, and locally produced goods available at a reasonable market value.

Another difference is the state of security and the role of the police. Many Peruvian cities have a high crime rate. I learned to be hyper-aware of my surroundings at all times in order to keep myself safe. I don’t have to do that to the same degree in the U.S. The police have limited authority in Peru compared to the U.S.: in many instances, they are not permitted to intervene in violent crime or even make a traffic stop. I witnessed many crimes take place right in front of police officers, and they legally could not do anything about it. It made me appreciate the justice system we have in the United States.

Gender equality is quite different in Peru and the U.S. Peru is still a very patriarchal society, in which many women are oppressed and expected to maintain traditional gender roles. During my time in Peru, many men on the streets (or even in restaurants) would cat-call and make unwanted advances. I learned very quickly how to defend myself and how to avoid such situations. Of course there were also many men who were incredibly respectful to women, but they did not appear to be the larger norm. As a woman, I feel safer being back in the United States, knowing there are social and legal statutes to help protect me.

Access for people with disabilities is also quite different. I spent a lot of my time studying access as the topic of my ethnographic research. As someone with a disability, I was able to assess how accessible different spaces are (buildings, walkways, modes of transportation), as well as how feasible it is for people with disabilities to find employment. Access in Peru is not to the same level as in the United States, and the government has only recently begun to offer assistance. But there is an interesting cultural factor which makes life with a disability more manageable. Peruvians value the family unit, and are incredibly invested in caring for loved ones. When a person has a disability, they are cared for by family members and nearly always accompanied by a loved one to help fill in the gaps where places are inaccessible.

 

 

Reverse culture shock is a strange phenomenon. I sometimes feel frustrated that I am back in the United States, missing the host culture I left behind. It gets lonely knowing that my family and friends don’t share the amazing experiences I had in Peru. I do my best to share the stories, but there will always be a disconnect. It’s strange returning to my regular routine. I almost feel out of touch with myself. I feel as though a piece of my heart is still in Peru. Thankfully I can easily keep in touch with my Huanchaco family, which makes this transition much easier.

Something to keep in mind is that “home” can mean anything. Home can be the house you were raised in, or where your parents live. It can be your hometown, your college town, or where you currently live. Home can be a person or a group of the most important people in your life. You can have more than one home. Your definition of home can change at any time. I am redefining my concept of home constantly. My home simply expanded to a little corner of Peru. My home called Huanchaco. And maybe someday, I go home to Huanchaco again.

 

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully you leave something good behind.       –Anthony Bordain

I never realized how little I knew until I studied abroad. My mind and my heart have been opened to a world I was only superficially aware of. It’s an entirely different reality to read about Peru and Peruvian culture and to actually live it day by day. A beautifully complex and exciting reality.

I have become intimately involved in the everyday moments of people’s lives here, that I feel as though I’ve known them forever. I eat every meal in Marita’s café and she makes jokes with me. Miguel, the night guard at the hostel, makes fun of me every morning as I stumble down the stairs to breakfast with my messy hair, and he makes his way to run his bodega across the plaza. Daisy, one of the adorable house cleaners, laughs as she tries to teach me Spanish. Carmen, a traditional healer, brings so much happiness into the hostel when she visits, always smiling and giggling about her latest adventures, always bringing bags of herbs to fix our latest maladies.

I’ve seen a lot of sad things, too, which made me incredibly aware of the harsh realities of the world and my place in them. I witnessed the painful effects of climate change. There is an ecological reserve on the northern end of Huanchaco beach, trying to preserve the totora reeds used in making the traditional reed boats (caballitos de totora). The rising ocean levels during the past several years have limited the places where the reeds can grow. This limits the resources and threatens to minimize and potentially eliminate a several thousand-year-old tradition and livelihood.

 

 

I witnessed the travesties of living through a natural disaster. The site for my field school was a town which had been hit hardest by El Nino flooding earlier this year. The first time we visited, it was so somber. My heart felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as I saw rubble where homes used to be, shards of glass and unsafe debris where children were playing, tarps and tents now the only property demarcating a home. One woman pointed out the flood path saying, “it just took everything.”

 

 

Thankfully, we were able to do something to help. We learned how to do a needs assessment and an asset/skills assessment. By talking with everyone in the community, we found out what the most pressing needs were on a community and individual level. We then talked to each person about what their skills were, and what they could do to get back up on their feet, to help their family, their community. We talked about their hopes and dreams, what they would like to do and become. We compiled the data and gave it to our in-country coordinator who is trying to get government help based on the needs assessment. We had raised money through a fundraiser before coming, so we applied that money to buying food, water, and supplies each week for the community. We also donated our own clothes and supplies to help fill the needs we were seeing.

I feel incredibly motivated to continue on my educational and career path. I feel like an anthropologist now. My ethnographic field school has taught so many skills, both in class and in “the field.” I’ve learned interview techniques, writing skills, how to do unobtrusive observations and engage in participant observations. I’ve drawn ethnographic maps, sketched, and photographed areas and people we’ve encountered. I have increased my skills in understanding and speaking Spanish and am excited to continue practicing. I am writing my own ethnography which will be published on a website. I learned how to do a needs assessment in a resource-poor area, such as one struck by a natural disaster. I now have the toolkit to go work for any variety of NGOs and humanitarian aid organizations. I have the drive to continue to graduate school and complete my MPH/PhD program and become a medical anthropologist!

Studying abroad in this ethnographic field school in Huanchaco, Peru is the best academic and personal decision I could have made. It still feels surreal to me to say that I am living in Peru. It is a dream waking up and realizing that I’m here. Every bit of me – my disability, my education, my family, my dreams and goals – are why I’m here. My family, the Gilman team, and my incredible professor/program leader/mentor, and a lot of hard work are how I’m here.

That has been motivating me every day of this journey: realizing that I am not doing any of this on my own. I think that is one of the ways I have changed the most is learning that I can always have a support network, and accepting that it is a beautiful thing to accept help. I have also learned that I can always make time to help someone else (even if I feel pressed for time). I am learning to balance my needs with the needs of others.

This has been the most incredible experience. I don’t want it to be over! But the skills I have learned and the connections I’ve made are invaluable. My study abroad will always be a part of me, and a part of my heart will always be in Peru!

I have been in Peru for three weeks, and feel as though I have lived a lifetime of experiences. I have surfed the longest wave in the world. I have been to the archaeological site of the most ancient people in the Americas. I have held ancient human remains which were desecrated by grave robbers. I have seen sacred mountains and valleys. I have heard ghost tales passed down a millennia. I have danced with Peruvians and joined in the music which always wafts through the streets. I have found sea glass washed ashore by the Pacific Ocean. I have had my heart broken as my peers and I meet with natural disaster victims each week, and had it lifted again at their hope and love and strength. I have learned from traditional healers and shopped for medicinal herbs. And I want everyone to be able to experience life in this beautiful country!

Of course, not everyone can live in Peru long enough to experience everything, so I’ve put together a list of must-sees and must-dos (including some must-eats!) in La Libertad, Peru.

Top 7 things to do in Trujillo and Huanchaco:

1. Visit the Plaza de Armas in Trujillo. This historic town square was the center of Spanish colonialism, as seen in the incredibly well-preserved architecture and art. It is also the site where Peru declared its independence from Spain (giving the region its name “La Libertad”). The shops, artisans, and cafes will not disappoint. 
   

   This is the original cathedral built by the Spanish in the late 15th century. It is located in the Plaza de Armas in Trujillo and is open a few times each day for mass, confession, other church functions, and tours.

2. Visit the archaeological site Chan Chan. Chan Chan is a site of the Chimu people (the civilization just before the Incas). There are nine palaces across this 14 square km city, each with original engravings, art, ceramics, and rich histories. Here you will learn about the importance of the ocean in Chimu religion: the water provided everything (food, transportation, protection, etc.). Waves, fish, and pelicans (which showed fisherman where the fish were) are engraved in nearly every room. Duality is also an important element of Chimu religion: male and female, sun and moon, sea and sky.
   • A bonus feature of Chan Chan is most (if not all) of the site of wheelchair accessible! This is because the governor of the city was not supposed to have his feet touch the ground. He was carried everywhere by 4-6 men. If he were carried up or down stairs, he would have fallen off, so the palaces are constructed with flat paths and ramps. 
     

     A famous wall in Chan Chan showing the original engravings. It depicts some of the most important symbols in the Chimu culture and religion: horizontal lines represent the ocean waves; the fish are important because they were the largest food supply; and the birds at the bottom are pelicans, which helped fisherman locate where the fish were swimming.

     

     A large system of rooms in Chan Chan with original artwork engraved in the adobe. The holes in the walls were meant to give light in an otherwise dark space, and are designed to look like fishing nets.

3. Visit Huaca de la Luna. Huaca means temple. This is the temple of the moon, which lies on one side of an ancient city, while the temple of the sun (Huaca del Sol) lies on the other side. This archaeological site was once inhabited by the Moche people (the civilization which pre-dates the Chimu). Huaca de la Luna is full of incredible murals and tombs with the original paint still on the adobe. 
   

   A mural in the Huaca de la Luna spanning the length of an enormous room. The paint and engravings are the originals made by the Moche people. The face depicted on the mural is that of the greatest Mochica god, Ai Apaec. He has owl eyes (representing the sky or heavens), the teeth of a feline (representing the earth), hair like waves (representing the ocean), and is surrounded by serpents.

4. Go to El Brujo/Museo de Cao. This is another archaeological Moche site, but with an exciting twist! Most of the archaeological record in Peru shows male rulers and healers. However, at this site, a powerful woman was found! Señora de Cao was either a Moche ruler or a high-ranking priestess, which challenged the idea that only Moche men could hold such positions. She passed away at age 25, possibly due to complications in childbirth. Her body was so well-preserved that her skin and hair remain in-tact, so much so that her extensive tattoos are still clearly visible.
   • Buying souvenirs at the gift shop on site is pretty expensive. However, souvenirs of equal quality can be found at the nearby city of Magdalena de Cao. 
     

     The mummy of Senora de Cao was found buried here (marked by logs over a rectangle in the ground) beside a grand, painted mausoleum. An adolescent girl was found buried in the same tomb, a high priest was buried with a another adolescent near the tomb, as well as a fisherman buried very near Senora de Cao’s.

     

     A replica of what Senora de Cao may have looked like and the clothing and ceremonial dress she wore.

5. Spend some time on the beach in Huanchaco. Huanchaco has been a settlement for thousands of years, originally by the Moche, or Mochica. As such, it has an incredibly rich history. Huanchaco is famous for having the longest surf in the world (more than a mile long!) There are plenty of excellent surf shops which can provide lessons, boards, and wet suits for a VERY low price! While on the beach, you’ll also be able to see the traditional (2,500-3,000 year old) caballitos de totoro or “reed horses” which are long slim boats made of dried reeds Fisherman use them as wave riders, and these boats are likely the earliest form of surfing. 
   

   A picture of my friend walking along Huanchaco beach at sunset. We were collecting sea glass brought in by the ocean on the northern shore.

   

   This is a smaller version of the traditional caballito de totorro. The house is sticks, adobe, and thatched reeds and grasses- a traditional home of a fisherman along the coast (because it is quick and simple to rebuild if the tides flood it). The boat is being dried after heavy use in the water.

6. Eat Ceviche.  This famous Latin American dish has its origins in Peru nearly 2,000 years ago! It is a meal of fresh raw fish cured in lime juice and spiced with aji (a peppery hot sauce). Order some chicha morada (a sweet beverage made from purple corn) to wash it all down. It’s a must!
7. While you’re here, don’t forget to enjoy the incredible street art! Peruvians have found a way to turn graffiti into absolute masterpieces. Take some time to go on a walk during siesta and look at the paintings decorating nearly every wall and building in the country.

These things are just the beginning. The possibilities for your adventures and your studies are endless in Peru! If you’re interested in archaeology, you’re in luck: La Libertad region is rich with as-yet undiscovered evidences of ancient civilizations. If you are passionate about art, the entire coast is filled with artisan shops. If cooking is your path, there are incredible chefs everywhere. If you are going into medicine, you might be interested in learning from traditional healers about medicinal herbs and healing practices. I hope if you come to Peru you’ll find it as thrilling as I have. There is so much to learn and so much wonder to see!

Hola de Peru,

Living in Huanchaco is such a beautiful experience. I am in love with the sights, the sounds, the smells, and most of all the kind people I’ve met. I am in an ethnographic field school which takes me to three different cities across La Libertad region of Peru: Trujillo, Huanchaco, and El Milagro. I have a very different experience than my classmates do, however, because I have a physical disability and am chronically ill.

Walking the streets of La Libertad, I notice every doorway. Thresholds are an immediate sign of whether people with disabilities can easily enter or exit. Entrances here are typically flat (the same level as the ground) or they have a large step up to enter (much like in the U.S). Government regulations have only recently dictated that public buildings have access ramps, so anything constructed before that legislation is not required to be accessible. There is also a correlation between poverty and access: the wealthier an area, the more accessible it is, and the unfortunate vice versa.

Then, of course, I have my individual struggle with my health. Each day is an uphill climb at 50% capacity. Luckily I have a great cane, a program director who supports and believes in me, and the incredible Gilman team backing my every step up that mountain.

 

 

Studying abroad with health challenges definitely has its own unique set of challenges, but that is no reason that it cannot still be an incredible experience. Here are some tips that have helped make my experience go a little smoother.

1. Some countries and cities are more accessible than others. When deciding where to study abroad, do some research about the destination. Are buildings required to have access ramps and/or elevators? Is public transportation accessible to your needs? Are roads paved or dirt? Will you be able to get your medications in the host country? It’s important to consider these things in addition to the academic program.
2. Build a support network. I cannot stress enough the value of making friends who will stand by you and support you when you feel ill. Find a friend in each class. Become close with your roommate. So far, having supportive friends has made the experience abroad more manageable, accessible, and enjoyable.
3. Along those same lines, have an open line of communication with your professors and your program director.  Let them know how you are doing, what you need, and what would make the experience more feasible for you. It is very likely they will be more than willing to accommodate your needs. That has certainly been the case for me.
4. Learn medical terminology in your host country’s language. Before coming to Peru, I made sure to brush up on my Spanish vocabulary of the human anatomy and symptoms. If you can express how you feel and what your body is going through, you can better receive the medical help you may need.
5. Similarly, find out your prescription names in your host country. Some medications go by different names in different countries. If you will be receiving refills while abroad, be sure to know what to ask for from the pharmacist. It’s also a good idea to have a note from your doctor listing and describing all your medications (both in English and your host language).
6. Call venues ahead of time to see if they are accessible for your needs. If you are going out and are worried the destination may not be able to suit your needs, give them a call and find out. Call restaurants and ask if they can accommodate your food allergy. Ask if a building has an elevator. You can even ask what the venue is like so you can determine what support-gear or mobility device you will need. If the venue cannot meet your exact needs, they may be able to work out some other type of accommodation.
7. Rest and take care of your health. I know being in a new place is exciting, and it is incredibly tempting to want to fill every minute. However, you will have a much better experience if you also take care of your body. You will miss out on more if you are only functioning at half-capacity. Take siestas, say no to late nights every now and again, get enough sleep, stay hydrated, eat well, exercise (if applicable). Your experience abroad will be so much better if your health is a priority.
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. This is the tip I struggle most with. But you will not get what you need if you don’t ask for it. Talk to your professors, your friends, people you meet on the street. They can offer assistance and are often quite willing to do so.

 

 

Studying abroad is a very attainable goal for people with disabilities! As my health declined in my teenage years, I worried I would never have the chance to study abroad. Now, I am living in Peru, learning more than I ever dreamed possible! Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean I can’t accomplish my dreams. I simply have to go about them a different way. And there is nothing wrong with different.

Best of luck to you all in your journeys, travels, studies, and dreams! May you have good health and amazing experiences!

Saludos!

Hi, my name is McKinley. This summer abroad is my last semester of undergraduate studies. I study cultural and medical anthropology as well as sociology at Utah State University. This is my first experience leaving the United States, and I’m spending it in an ethnographic field school in Huanchaco, Peru.

A little more about me: I am a painter, photographer, classical singer, and I have a lot of rare medical conditions causing a physical disability. Many of my experiences and observations in Peru are influenced by my health. Hopefully I’ll be able to give some suggestions to make your study abroad with health challenges a bit easier.

I was incredibly excited to study abroad, and had very few reservations about my trip. My biggest worries were about my health. I wasn’t sure if my medications would be allowed in Peru (they were). I checked with the U.S. embassy in Peru to see if my prescriptions were legal. I called my airline as well to check their restrictions for how to package my medications and how best to stow my cane during the flight. (It is also possible to board early and get assistance if traveling with a wheelchair or other health concerns). I also worried that I would be too sick to participate in classes or activities. So I made preparations with my doctors and with my professors so if I felt subpar, I could still complete my work. I’ve already fallen ill, and was well taken care of. I have even been greeted with traditional Peruvian healing remedies. I was also concerned about exposure to water-borne illnesses from recent flooding in the area. I bought a water filter to screw on top of my water bottle when I drink. Some of my classmates purchased steripens to filter their water. Our professor likewise provided large water filters for us to fill water bottles with. I was pleasantly surprised to find that water sanitation is a priority in my hostel and in many of the shops I’ve visited. 

 

 

I’ve been in Peru for one week now and have noticed a few differences from the U.S. As an an anthropologist, it’s very important not to generalize. Therefore, these observations are specific to my interactions in La Libertad region of Peru in June 2017.  First, there are few, if any, accessibility ramps for people with disabilities. Second, two lanes of traffic often become five, and cars definitely have the right-of-way before pedestrians. The traffic laws are barely enforced by police, but there is a social norm in driving that helps people be slightly more safe. Third, smiling at strangers of the opposite sex can potentially be interpreted as romantic interest (my friend learned this the hard way). Fourth, the women (and sometimes men) greet and say goodbye with a kiss to the right cheek. Fifth, most of the food is locally produced, making meals clean and healthy. Sixth, some Peruvians run on “la hora Peruana,” or “Peruvian time.” This is a habit of running late (by a few hours). Finally, there seems to be a multi-generational commitment to the central family unit. Grandparents, patents, and children are frequently seen together enjoying family time. Likewise, there is a genuine concern about close friends. 

I’m quite smitten with Huanchaco. It’s a quiet city right on the beach. The crime rate is very low, so I feel safer here than in the bigger cities (Lima, Trujillo). Everyone I’ve met has been really kind and helpful. Still, I had to adjust to speaking and listening in Spanish full-time (talk about a brain workout). It made me anxious the first two or three days, worrying that I wouldn’t understand or wouldn’t know what to say. But it has already become easier, and I expect my language abilities will only continue to increase (so don’t give up hope). I haven’t felt terribly homesick yet, likely because I’ve become good friends with my classmates. My best tip is to make a friend and stick close together until you both become more comfortable. 

 

 

I’ve set some goals for my study abroad experience in Peru. I want to track my personal, educational, and professional progress. These goals include completing original research and producing an ethnography, surfing, trying Peruvian foods, learning about traditional ethnomedical beliefs, and helping provide humanitarian aid to a town destroyed by flooding. It’s important to me to keep my sights set high, but within the limits of what my health will allow. This week, I’m working on my writing skills as I work on my ethnography. I’m particularly inspired by Benjamin Franklin’s words:

“Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.”

I wish you all the best from Huanchaco. Keep dreaming, keep achieving, keep reaching. There are so many good things ahead. Happy and healthy journeys to you all!