Like Home but Then Again, Maybe Not...

As I'm sitting in my host family's den (la sala), reading about Spanish conquest in Peru, I can hear a mariachi band so clearly that it sounds like it's playing over our stereo. Instead, the band is a couple of blocks away in a multi-purpose building. Weddings on Saturdays are especially popular there, but today is a nice change from the typical American 80s love ballads. A few minutes ago, the band played "Happy Birthday" which sounded more like "Hoppy Birday thu you". I couldn't help smiling. "Oh Peru..." I thought.

As I listened and laughed and just enjoyed being somewhere so different, a train whistle sounded. Instantly, my laughing stopped. It was the first train I had heard in Peru. It sounded just like the trains that go through Dunn.

It sounded like HOME.

I couldn't help closing my eyes and waiting for the next blast. What seemed like forever later, the familiar sound echoed through the valley, and something inside of me became hyper-aware. Each time the whistle blew, my heart cringed. It was too familiar...

Suddenly, I'm not in the den of my Yanahuara apartment in Arequipa, Peru, but I'm walking out of Las Brisas Mexican restaurant in Dunn, NC with my family and I'm hearing the train down the street mixing with the mariachi music back inside. With each blast, a warmth crept through my tired, chilled body.

You see, today, I'm feeling pretty ill. Let's just say even green tea and graham crackers are fair game for my stomach's frolicking. :( (I don't know if it was the mid-day corn on the cob and steak, the wonderful ice cream from a vendor, or the homemade pizza my little sister made me for dinner yesterday or all of the above that did it...whatever it was, I am SICK now!)

So, with my eyes closed, I thought of home and felt some peace. Eventually, the train's whistle faded away. I finally opened my eyes again. The mixture of mariachi and train produced such a familiar, comforting feeling that I listen out now for other sounds of home.

Ok, a loud car just drove by outside...probably some boy from the high school in a huge truck with straight pipes.

And that bird outside the window...sounds a bit like a mockingbird.

But that's about it. There's more foreign sounds than familiar. For example, a car horn blows every 5 seconds because there are so many taxis. And little children scream outside in Spanish too high-pitched and quick for me to catch. And now, the mariachi band is playing Spanish salsa music.

I'm back in Peru.

Am I complaining? No, not really. I love how every time I run to the bathroom today, I forget that the light switch isn't down to up but left to right. I love how my host mom left me a while ago with a huge hug, kiss on the cheek, another heartfelt "this house is your house" and a mixture of Spanish and English "take care" phrases. I love how I almost always kill myself walking in my socks to and from my bedroom because the hardwood floors are waxed weekly.

And I love learning about Peru...in class, in the streets, during lunchtime converstations (my mom: "So why don't you know traditional American dances and music, and why are they not performed at every function?" How do you explain the American melting pot to someone who knows every city's theme traditional song and dance?) and just through the people I meet.

Now, the sun is setting and the snow-capped volcanos outside my window are turning pink. I'll be able to see the bright Southern Cross in about 30 minutes. The house is getting chilly, and I should get up and close all of the windows. The band is still playing, now a cumbia. (Man, these people have been dancing since noon!) I'll continue reading my Peruvian culture book (written in English, thank God!), sipping my green tea out of my "Mickey and his friends" mug and waiting for my mom and sis to come back with the ingredients for my favorite Peruvian dish...crepes with caramel! Let's just pray my stomach doesn't object!