Costa, Sierra y Selva

I think that this could be the beginning of a beautiful relationship. My intentions concerning blogging were pure, but these intentions were thwarted by powers beyond my control. To quote Jurassic Park, “I think we’re back in business!”

The second week of classes this week has begun, and I am swamped. We’re going through a period of transition here at the institute simultaneously with the transition of the Peruvian government from Toledo to Garcia. To be honest, I feel like more changes will be made at SALI than will be made in Lima. Prove me wrong Alan!

Among current issues on our (Dinko and I) plate can be found:

1) A new building for our growing institute. We have discovered some ridiculous city ordinance that suggests that educational institutions should not be located within so many feet of a grifo (gas station), and therefore must depart.

2) A Policy and Procedures handbook for our adminstration staff.

3) Standardized testing and curriculum for our classes.

This is just a start. If you ever find yourself desiring a more in-depth look at the bowels of the beast we call running a language institute, let me know. I’d be happy to fill you in.

Saturday night we celebrated the independence days of both countries and much fun was had by all. On the menu was charcoal-grilled hamburgers, potato salad, baked beans, chocolate chip cookies and ’smores. The ’smores were a hit, as was Elizabeth’s lesson on the electric slide. Yes, yours truly can now do the electric slide. Demonstrations will take place upon my return. Did I mention I was also taking salsa lessons? Look out Crestview.

I was in the middle of telling you all about my recent journey down south when I was rudely interrupted by my server and cut off in mid-sentence. Sufficed to say a picture says a thousand words and I’ve got about a thousand pictures. So feel free to browse. I returned home with a better understanding of the country I’m working in, its people, its culture and its deep, sad history. Better informed, better prepared.

The grandeur of God’s creation is marvelous. Last night three friends and I went to a concert at one of our churches, and though we had planned to come back to the institute, I thought, “the beach is just ten minutes down the road.” The sun was beginning to set, so we made our way down the avenue to Buenos Aires, a beach community at the end of the road. The sky was clear, a group of guys had set up an impromptu soccer game where the road ended, and parejas shared besos on the concrete boardwalk. The docile waves sparkled under the roar of the sun and I thought, for just a moment, if the sand were a few shades lighter, I could be at home at my beach under my sun on my gulf. We need moments like those to ground us and remind us why we are where we are and, most importantly of all, that we are loved with an everlasting love much greater than the Pacific ocean or the Atacama Desert or the Andes themselves.