The entertainer

Simon likes to stretch with Sam… 

…except when it is too tiring.

It’s also fun to wear Sam’s shoes…

…except when it’s an effort to stay upright.

Simon likes to meet new people, sometimes. His way of saying hello can range from energetically waving and saying hi, on one occasion blowing kisses to some high school girls who collapsed in a giggling pile of “ay, que liiiiiiiiiiiiindo!”, to biting a handlebar with his new friend.

He really likes the gift his friend Giuseppe gave him for Christmas, a set of blocks in a cool zippered bag. I find it especially cute when he asks for help opening the bag, like below.

This photo was a wake-up call reminding me to cut Elvis’, I mean Simon’s, hair.

Simon loved walking through the Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires…. 

...mostly because there were so many cats. But he favored this pretty fabulous tomb, too, since we got to see a giant dog and a real cat at the same time.

While this obviously isn’t of Simon, I’m including it here since it falls under the same category in my mind. It is such a sweet photo. I love the combination of the pensive boy looking out the window with his two brothers sleeping comfortably on one another. This was on the bus from Cafayate to Salta, in Argentina.

When we were trying to get Simon to try some homemade juice soon after we moved into our apartment, we taught him how to clink glasses and toast, then drink. It worked, he drank the jugo and now enjoys toasting on occasion. Yesterday he wanted to toast… with bananas. Why not bananas, really? So we toasted and then ate.

Will Simon be a swimmer like his mom? Too soon to tell… he loves my goggles and likes to examine things around the apartment while wearing them, but hasn’t yet wanted to actually wear the goggles in the bath or a pool.

Simon has recently been fascinated by spitting. So frequently we go hang out in the bathroom with a cup of water so he can spit to his heart’s content. The other night he was really hamming it up in the mirror, which I found hilarious, and lucky for me he kept it up long enough so that I could run for the camera.

The next performance will begin at 8.

Fixations

I keep a mental list of the things I find strange or funny or interestingly different here… and often I’m lucky enough to have my camera with me to document the action. 

Based on the number of photos I have, I am apparently fixated on different methods of transport, especially kids' ornate plastic bikes, especially with a tiny “child" seat at the rear so that a doll or stuffed animal can be strapped in. 

The water and gas delivery truck will also apparently deliver one of these types of bikes, too.

Bicycles are very much a part of the traffic here in Lima, mostly with these carts on the front. 

Sometimes people are lucky to have their friends drive them around. 

The carts usually have a small engine attached to them. The best, though, is when we see someone zooming through traffic on a mountain bike and realize that they have attached an engine to the bike. No picture yet of that; they move too fast for me and my camera.

People in Buenos Aires were so neat and orderly while they waited for the bus, waiting in line. The buses actually stopped to let people on and off, too, unlike Lima. What a radical concept!

We saw many motorcyclists in Argentina wearing their helmets half on their heads and half off (i.e. the part where normally they would look out of was on top of their head, and the chin guard was perched on their foreheads), or, like the guy below, were holding them while driving. I'm not sure if they were planning to put it on before they wrecked...? Then, to top that, we saw several examples of drivers holding babies as they steered their cars.

Dressed up dogs are ominpresent on walks in the parks along the malecón, and I find them kind of horrifying. However, they had mostly lost their impact due to the frequency of a dolled-up-dog sighting. I've seen dogs wearing shirt and short (or skirt) sets, knitted sweaters, barrettes and hair clips. Dogs of all sizes, not just the tiny ones pictured here. And then I saw a dog wearing a sequined tutu. 

In Buenos Aires, we didn’t see dressed up dogs, thankfully. But when we saw dogs, they were often in packs of five or six, being walked by someone talking on a cellphone. 

On to other fixations... I had read that for one town in the mountains, it was a big tradition to wear yellow for New Year’s – especially yellow underwear. That sounds fun, I thought. Too bad we aren’t going to travel near there for the holiday. Then, just before New Year’s, I was walking to the mercado and saw one of the little shops completely transformed by yellow. I stopped and looked closer. The sales counter was piled high with yellow cloth… could it be? Yes! Yellow underwear! How much? “S/2.50 to S/3.50, depending on the size.” I asked if they had it in toddler sizes too. “Of course!” What about boxers? “Here!” 

I thought that it was hilarious that the brand on the boxers, sewn prominently onto the waistband, was STRIPPER. So I bought us all yellow underwear to ring in the New Year in festive Peruvian style. Simon looks the cutest in his, of course.

 

Simon and I went to watch his friend Dieuwe’s swim class one morning and I thought it funny that everyone, even babies without hair, had to wear a swim cap. 

This ad for altitude sickness warranted a double take as we walked by. 

Speaking of sickness, I wonder who the target consumer is for this brand of hamburger. 

I love this example of multi-tasking. I can barely knit and carry on a conversation at the same time, let alone knit, walk and care for a toddler! 

And sometimes, multi-tasking means taking a nap while waiting to make the next delivery.

Deadlines and frustrations

At one point during the capacitación training in December, Yannina told the artisans that she would be traveling to an international fair in February and that she would take new product samples, muestras, with her. “Since we have to ship the muestras ahead of time, the deadline to have them in our office is December 16.”

A woman in the front row raised her hand. “I can’t drop mine off until December 28. Can I still bring them?” Yannina said, “OK, the deadline to drop off muestras is December 28.”

I wondered if that deadline would actually be observed. I have heard many comments around the office about artisans not getting products (from muestras to product orders) in on time, but I’ve also wondered if it’s because deadlines don’t seem to be enforced. They seem kind of like the traffic laws in Lima – they are mere suggestions instead of actual rules people obey.

December 28 was a pretty busy day in the office. Artisans had been bringing muestras in every few days, but on December 28, the doorbell rang constantly.

It also rang constantly on December 29 and 30.

The first two weeks of January were pretty busy too.

Artisans would bring in packages of product samples to show Yannina, who would suggest changes in color or design based on what she thought would sell better. Sam enjoyed getting a chance to see the muestras come in and see how artisans had incorporated his suggestions during the capacitación. Yannina would frequently consult with him about pricing and design.

By mid-January, we learned that instead of shipping muestras to Germany ahead of time, Yannina and Mario planned to bring the muestras in their suitcases. I wondered if that meant they would accept muestras up until the last minute, or whether they had a new cut-off date.

We left for Argentina and enjoyed a two-week break from volunteering. We returned to find muestras still coming in, mere days before Yannina and Mario were to leave for the fair.

I can understand that Manos Amigas wants to give artisans every opportunity for success by putting their muestras in front of potential buyers. I am continuously impressed by how Yannina puts the artisan first. She clearly lives her dedication to them. She hasn’t just given some artisans second chances, she’s worked with them long past the point I think most would. Once she told us, “This artisan is a single mom and doesn’t have any other financial support for her daughter. I need to be looking out for her daughter to make sure she can get into college, even if her mom isn’t as focused on that goal.” That is admirable. I’m not sure I would have made the same decision, given all the facts and circumstances. I suppose it is good that no artisans are depending on my generosity for their livelihood.

But, even if you are totally dedicated to giving the artisans every opportunity, are you justified in complaining that the artisans are bringing in muestras late if there is no penalty or ramification for doing so?

I can hear Sam in my head, saying, “Is this something you should really worry about?” I know, I know. I’m not the one traveling to Germany. I’m not the one having to process the muestras. So isn’t this an example of something I should note regarding how Manos Amigas runs and simply move on with my projects?

Perhaps… except that the floating deadline has caused some consternation in our household too.

At the same time as the muestras were coming in, Sam and I needed to make another product catalog. Mario gave me the project and his specifications the first week in January. He emphasized its urgency. To find the product images, we would need to comb through 250 folders, once, to see whether there were any images that fit certain parameters and place them in a new catalog. Not difficult, but time-intensive.

To make a long story short, we went through all 250 folders four separate times and processed photos only to find out later that Mario had moved around photos, added or deleted files, or otherwise rendered all of our work useless. Talking with him about it, proposing solutions, and letting him know why moving files meant that all the work we’d done was now pointless, all proved futile.

I finally just decided I was done with the catalog and went back to another project. Sam, admirably, really wanted it to be completed on time for the fair and started over a fifth time after Mario said he was really, really done. I don’t know that I believe Mario but since it’s not a project I’m working on anymore, I need to not worry about it.


Another thing that frustrates me is that we are not exactly on their radar. I genuinely think they like having us here and they have certainly included us, kindly, in Christmas celebrations and other family events. But then there are things like cell phone numbers. All of their numbers changed while we were in Argentina. After trying unsuccessfully to reach Yannina and Mario for several days, we ran into Christina and asked what was going on. “Oh, all our phone numbers changed. No one told you?” No….

Similarly, their emails all changed about six weeks before we started volunteering with them and we also weren’t notified… while we were wondering if we should panic that no one was responding to us and we didn't have any way to phone them. We came to Manos Amigas once before we started volunteering and met Christina. We even asked about emails. "You sent Yannina several emails? I wonder why she hasn't responded."  We didn't find out about the new emails until we started volunteering with them. On one level, I understand why – we aren’t on their radar. On another level, it freaked me out – we MOVED TO PERU to volunteer with them; please keep us in the informational loop! 

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I am so thankful that we have the opportunity to be here and learn more about fair trade, exporting organizations, NGOs, another organizational and societal culture. But I won’t deny that I’m perplexed and annoyed. 


I suppose much of my frustration stems from the fact that I am not in a position to make organizational changes. I am very much a problem solver (as is Sam) and we see a lot of things, small things, that could be tweaked to make a huge difference. Yet providing that sort of advice is not our role... unless, of course, if we are asked for our opinions or given organizational management as a project. I would fall over in excitement, I think, were we given that opportunity, but I'm trying to learn that our solutions have a place within our conversations instead of hoping that we will actually get to implement them.

I wonder if it is common for volunteers in overseas stints - or perhaps full-time volunteers anywhere - to feel similarly. So it goes.

Argentina's finest, according to Simon

We loved Argentina. I would return there anytime. In fact, since we had to pay an expensive entrance fee for each of us, good for 10 years, I have a special interest in returning soon! 

Sam and I loved the steak (I don’t even like steak!). We loved the espressos, especially at Nuestra Señora del Café (you know it has to be good when they have the 10 commandments for making good coffee). We loved the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires, and our funky neighborhood in Buenos Aires, Palermo Soho. 

The 10 Commandments for making a good cup of coffee, per Nuestra Señora del Café

Even though we all did the same activities over the same period of time, Simon probably had a completely different experience than Sam or I did. Here’s my interpretation of his top 10 list, in no particular order.


1. Watching himself in the elevator and playing on the couch in our apartment in Buenos Aires.

2. Seeing animals – dogs everywhere, monkeys at Iguazú and the horses/cows/goats en route to Bodega Colomé. As soon as he saw an animal, he’d start signing that he wanted “more!”

3. Storytelling about traveling in a plane. Just like when we were packing up in Indianapolis to come to Peru, we started telling him in advance that Mama and Daddy and Simon were going to get on a plane and go to Argentina. This time, he started chanting it himself, “Mama Daddy Mama Daddy”, prompting us to tell him about our trip again. He enjoyed hearing this over… and over… and over.


4. Finding friends everywhere – from buses to airports to playgrounds to restaurants to plazas. It’s fun to see him becoming more outgoing.

Making faces with a sweet friend, coming back from Iguazu Falls. Note the cooler. 

5. Helado. It is safe to say that the days when he was ok with having a couple of bites of each of our helados are over. Simon gets his own helado now.


6. Riding… escalators and wearing his backpack.

7. Riding… the train at Iguazú. We were about to skip our last train ride and walk the 20-25 minutes to the main visitor center when Simon let us know, in no uncertain terms, that this was unacceptable. So we took the train.

8. Riding… bicycles. This was the first time he’s ridden a bike on the same level as us, which he loved, rather than in the safe, low-to-the-ground carrier back in Indianapolis, which he mostly hated.

9. He’s reversed his water bottle trend and now likes drinking water, preferably cold water, out of the tiniest receptacle possible, his current favorite being the cap to the water bottle.

10. Eating fresh grapes off of the vine in the courtyard of our hotel in Cafayate. What a cool perk that was. We could cut down as many grapes as we wanted to eat. So fresh and delicious! His capacity for grapes there was quadruple what he would normally eat.

Now that we are home, Simon asks to watch videos of the monkeys and waterfalls. He reminds us to put on our backpack if it seems like we will leave the apartment without one. And he requests that his water be served cold. What a lovely kid.