The whole purpose of traveling to Trujillo was to perform
due diligence on these loan projects that were assigned to us back in April.
Then, at the end of our trip, we are supposed to present our findings to the
Three Amigos, Blake, Tim, and Scott, who fund the program and have the ultimate
say in the decision. The three of them also give us a grade on our projects to
pass on to Cliff and Dave; we have a class from each and this project is part
of the final grade.
Because I spent all of my time Sunday not writing the paper,
I had to spend most of Monday writing. Even that didn’t work out that well. I
only finished three of the seven to eight pages.
Our group had another excursion planned at 2:30, so we had
all morning to do what we needed to do. My body still would not let me sleep
in; I woke up at seven every morning. The breakfast here got old very quickly.
I wish they would just serve things I liked regularly. I mean, they always, at
every hotel we stayed, always had sandwich meats and cheeses. I don’t get it.
Serve pancakes and French toast every day, not weird lunch food. Serve bacon
every day, not weird meat mix with onions. They did serve cereal everyday, but
usually the milk was warm. They also served fruits everyday, which was the only
constant thing that I liked.
Sorry for the rant (gotta have something to say when you
don’t remember squat from that day). Our trip out to Luis’ place was very
interesting this time. Jaquelin came along with us to help us find our way. We
took a short taxi ride to a central roundabout where we met Luis. He had gotten
off work early so he could work on the house. He seems like such a decent guy,
really humble.
From here, we boarded the bus and took a 40-minute ride out
to his place. It was interesting to see the change from the city center, where
it was developed, to just outside the city center, where the houses where a
notch lower in terms of quality, then to the outskirts, where the roads are not
paved and the houses are adobe and tin.
The bus ride itself was an experience. All the busses are
rickety, old, dirty, and worn. I sat by Jaquelin for the ride up, and we tried
to talk, but I don’t speak Spanish well and she doesn’t know any more English
than, “Hello,” “How are you?” “Good.” Actually, it is fun being forced to use
Spanish. It pushes me to remember everything I learned from my two semesters,
which turns out to be more than I expected. I also am good at making up works
that actually make sense.
With my knees dug into the seat in front of me, we trusted
our crazy bus driver through the crazy Peruvian traffic until we were almost
the last people left. There are not any bus stops on the route; you just have
to signal for them to stop and they do. So we got off on a corner and walked a
very short way to his house.
His wife, Luz, was already there with their two hijos
working. Nate talked with them, mostly, while Shannon and I just listened. I
would run off questions we had to Nate who would translate them, then translate
the answers back to us if we didn’t catch what they said. We spent some time
there, but soon boarded the bus back. The ride back was just as bumpy, but like
I said, it is an experience.
I don’t remember what we did that night. I know we had
dinner, and I’m pretty sure that we worked on our projects, but I just can’t
pull it out of my brain what exactly we did. It was not that eventful, so you’re
really not missing out. Oh, and happy birthday Jesse!
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