When I smell burning trash, my thoughts immediately go back to Nicaragua...almost immediately. I think of Nueva Vida (our village where we worked) as we drove through in the "gringo bus" through the bumpy dirt streets waiting for the cows to cross and watching the barefooted children play in the trash heaps. I get a certain feeling when I smell burning trash, like I am back there. I can feel the dirt clinging to my skin as I sweat while playing football in a dirt pitch. I can hear the sounds of pots clanging together as the mothers cooked lunch for their families, the sound of the kids laughing as they run (asking for candy from the gringos), and the sound of the local evangelist driving through the town with a bullhorn. Every time, that's what comes back into my head. I never thought I would crack a smile at the smell of burning trash.

Now, burning trash AND exhaust from all the buses and unregulated cars...that's a different story. THAT is Kenya. The fast pace of the cities is mixed with the tranquil lifestyle of the rural areas as they butt heads exchanging a few loud horn honks and goat bleets.

Today, I was brought back to Muhuru Bay, Kenya where I worked in a medical clinic. There is something about dry dirty, gas fumes, and burning trash that gets into you and leaves a lasting mark. I am working now near Lima in a town called Canto Grande with a group of field workers trained to take and record surveys etc for the Institute. Every morning we go into a house in small groups and observe how the mother interacts with her child during feeding, what she feeds the child, and whether the mother gave the food because it was time to eat, because the kid was hungry, etc etc. It's about 58 questions long for breakfast, snacks, and lunch. I'm writing constantly...and I keep saying, "como se dice (point to something) esa comida en español?" I am still learning all the Peruvian fruits and vegetables as well as the names of the dishes when they are all compiled. I think I'm learning more than helping...but maybe that was the point anyway.

I arrived at the Institute at 6:15am because my cab driver misunderstood what time I told him to be at my house....6:30am. He got there 2 minutes after I had gotten out of the shower at 5:50am and discussed with me rather in depth that I had said 6. My thought was, "either way, you're still wrong because I have 10 more minutes." (He later looked at his card and apologized to me...yeah baby!!) So I used those 10 minutes although I never got my coffee this morning...for those of you who know me - sad news! So, I arrived at the Institute and waited for close to 45 minutes (could have been sleepy time!!) this morning until one of the other ladies showed up to take me to Canto Grande. I am NOT getting on a bus by myself to get there...sorry. I still haven't learned the public transportation system very well in my area...I'm not taking it an hour outside of the city...haha. We got to Canto Grande around 8:15am and went out into the field and began our work.

Sidenote: Canto Grande as well as many other shanty towns around the city are built on private property and include many people who do not own land. This makes it rather interesting when it comes to development because these people may have lived there for 10-20 years, but they own no title to the land and can therefore be kicked off at a moment's notice. Lima is also very dry with huge sand dunes and large rock formations. These squatters often set up residence on these high hills with plywood and little keeping them from falling if a storm or an earthquake hits. Many of these places do not have running water or sewage so sewage runs down the hills and a truck comes around to deliver potable water. Quite a change from parts of downtown Lima (or where I live) where everyone waters the grass and flowers in the medians and in the parks to keep them green. If it weren't watered...it would all die.

I'll stop now, more to come. Enjoy the pictures. (I cannot use my big camera so side snapshots will have to do in areas like this. The ladies are sure my big camera will get stole in about 3 minutes flat.)