Afternoon Conversation with My Other Mommy

I didn't get out of bed this morning until after 11. All the homework I had waiting wasn't that appealing. Nevertheless, I eventually shuffled into the common room to find my host grandmother and mom grinning at me.

"How was last night?!"

A sheepish yawn. "Bien."

"Que paso?"

"We just danced and danced."

"When did you get back?" Grins on both of their faces.

With a tiny smile: "About 2:30."

"Yay!"

I have a very cool host family. I'm lucky. Some host families only talk to their student about how late they've been getting in. Some never take meals together. Some have strong opinions, are domineering and almost scary. Some host siblings refuse to take their guest out with them and their friends. But I'm lucky. I have a family that mirrors mine at home...they love me.

My host mom and I talk about whatever, just like me and my real mom. She asks about my friends here and at home. We take every meal together, even if she's busy (she works not 1 but 2 jobs!) She lets me borrow her gorgeous tops and scarves for going out. And my host sister is adorable and so talkative! Conversations with her always challenge and help my Spanish.

This afternoon with my host mom was extra special (and more amazing Spanish practice). It started out with the simple situation of being in the same room at the same time. I was checking my email, she was doing her homework for the kindergarten English class she teaches. Then she asked after my friends. We talked, in depth, about the night before. We chatted about my friends at home and how much I miss them and why I love them. (It's SO easy to go on and on about the people you love, isn't it?)

Then somehow we started talking about God. If you know me, I can talk forever about this. My host mom and I have had religious conversations before, and we see many things eye-to-eye. This isn't necessary, but it helps us relate.

We delved into "sin". Her situation: she's Catholic and has had two husbands, but she's currently divorced. Naturally, priests have given her different (and often, negative) feedback. She's adjusted her religion, therefore, to fit her beliefs based on her own experiences, like many of us do. She believes in a God of love. Of grace. Of equality. When she talks about her God, she grins and gets watery-eyed.

Oooh boy, she opened the floodgate! I got all teary-eyed too and started to talk about God's love for me. Regardless of what I've done or will do. How I believe God loves everyone. The finished work. All of that. We just nodded from across the room at each other and smiled. We connected as sisters in that moment.

Then I asked about Arequipa and how accepting the people are of differences. Are people racist? Sexist? Homophobic? She answered that the people tend to be more of all of these here in the south of Peru, just like in the southern US. I flinched. People are more religious and therefore (contradictorily so, we think) more closed-minded and less willing to love everyone. We almost cried again when discussing how people have to hide their sexual preferences. Or sexual activity in general. How the indigenous population is still oppressed. How when a husband leaves a wife, it can be the "woman's fault" or people say "she should be happy that he provided for her for so long." BULL SHIT! Absolute bull!

She, personally, is supportive of all differences. Different sexual preferences, races, socioeconomic levels, etc. Did I mention I love this woman? She is a walking, talking example of grace and a free, curious mind.

Then we talked about science. Do people mix religion and science? Again, kinda like the South. It depends. She, like me, appreciates and wants to know more about both.

We talked and talked. Finally, when I looked at the clock, it was 2 hours later and lunch time! We realized this at the same time and started to mess around the kitchen together. As usual, she started preparing some fresh veggies for a salad. That's when I noticed her cutting green beans with a knife. I giggled.

"What, Dev?"

"Mom, like this."

I proceeded to grab a bean, snap off the ends and then snap snap snap it into smaller sections. She gasped.

"No! How do you know this?"

"I grew up in the South!"

For ten minutes, I stood their snapping green beans and opening pea shells while she worked on cooking some pork. I couldn't stop grinning. I was standing in a Peruvian kitchen with a woman that I loved dearly, doing things that I would do at home. The reality of how different yet similar our worlds can be suddenly hit me. When I was done, she thanked me. I said, "De nada" and then smelled my fingertips. The familiar odor of greens, now with a hint of lime.

She asked me again about some friends. When talking about a certain girlfriend of mine, she said in Spanish, "Love is blind, but your neighbors can see!" I laughed while once again appreciating my parallel American/Peruvian worlds.