From Jesus lives In My Heart to Am Yisrael Chai in 60 Minutes and other contradictions in the life of Melanie

Date: Wed, 26 May 2004 19:39:04 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: From Jesus lives In My Heart to Am Yisrael Chai in 60 Minutes and other contradictions in the life of Melanie


Hola chicas y chicos,

I guess all of you college people are home now (except Danny Shain--another personal mention for you!) and I hope you're all enjoying yourselves in suburban Boston or wherever you happen to lay your head. I must say I am maybe the tiniest bit jealous. I'm going on almost 10 months out of the country (except for two weeks in February) and I could be maybe the tiniest bit homesick for things like Anna's Taqueria (black beans, spanish rice, guacamole, salsa, and a hell of a lot of hot sauce por favor) or a Via Lago Tomato basil and mozzarella cheese half sandwich on french bread or the Living Arts section of the Boston Globe and the Police Log of the Lexington Minuteman, or actually communicating in my native tongue and not having to translate everything in my head before opening my mouth. I never ever in my life thought I'd say this, but I miss Lexington, mostly because I miss you guys--my home friends, my family, and the other random people this e-mail reaches.

But there are things I love about Peru that I know I'll miss, like the way people on the street, and I mean ON THE STREET, like from car window to car window, sell the strangest things, like garment bags or Passion of Christ DVDs or bed sheets or spatulas, or the way there's at least 120 Chinese restaurants (called Chifa) on every street with names that are such a poor attempt at Chinese like 'Wa Glu' or 'Fu Ton' or the way I have to wear rubber sandals in the shower not to avoid all the nasty things that live in all public showers (kibbutz gals--like the French ha ha) but to act as an anti-conducing defense against shocks from the electric water heather (in case any of you are wondering conditioner is an excellent conductor of electricity--I've found Pantene works better than Herbal Essences).

But mainly I feel as if the longer I'm here the farther I'm moving away from the Melanie that arrived in Peru. The Jesus songs are ingrained in my head forever and I find myself responsible for recreation at an after school program in the Independencia with themes like 'Jesus is a Good Pastor' or 'Jesus is the Road to G-d.' One thing I've learned is that some people carry their religion and identity inside of them and some people don't. I was sure I could be myself no matter where I went, but I'm surprised to learn that in order to be my true self I need to be somewhat close to my own people. I guess this dependency is both a blessing and a curse--it's wonderful and natural to need and be needed, but it makes me kind of depressed to realize that I, who always pictured myself as truly independent, am so dependent on this group of people.

I know now I could never live in a place like Lima. Even though there are Jews here I don't feel like I fit in with that community either. Two weeks ago I arrived at Friday night services without Carine's grandmother and because I wasn't recognized by the congregation president doing his shmira (guard) duty, I had to wait outside of the gate for half an hour until someone from her family arrived and recognized me. It was such an awful feeling, waiting outside that gate--when have I ever not been allowed to enter a temple?

But life in Peru is continuing and I'm still learning every day. The other two Americans who were volunteering at the YMCA left for home two weeks ago, leaving me the only native English speaker I know in all of Lima. Which, I guess, is really good for my Spanish but a little more depressing in terms of truly communicating.
Of course, no e-mails from an adventure in South America would be complete without the description of the various exciting foods I have eaten here. My favorite Peruvian food by far is anticuchos, a shiskabob of cow heart and intestines and vegetables grilled on a stick on the street and sold for around 17 cents per kabob. Also tied for first of my fav food here is cebiche, the national dish of Peru, which is cubes of raw fish sauteed in a very strong lime sauce and served with onions and choclo, a gigantic variation of corn. And of course, who could forget the popular Cusquenian dish, fried guinea pig? Excellent, not very much meat, but very flavorful.
The only downside was that my director convinced me to try the meat from the head because 'it has the most flavor' and in doing so I accidentally ate part of the eye. Yum, extra protein. And, of course, I was haunted by the traumatizing experience at the tender age of seven of discovering my hamster Paprika the morning after a heart attack in exactly the same position as the Cuy (guinea pig) on my plate.

But by far the grossest thing I've eaten here in Peru is a traditional dish called 'mixturas.' Picture all the parts of the inside of a cow that you would never eat: liver, stomache, intestines both large and small, heart, tongue, kidney, etc. Now take all that, barbeque it, smother it in Aji and soy sauce, put in on a plate and serve it for $1 at a drive by traditional food restaurant called a picanteria.
Yumm, bet you're ALL hungry now.

Among other things that have happened since I last sent out a mass e-mail: I completed 19 years of taking up space on planet earth. (By the way props 'mad props!' oops not a singer to all of you guys who sent me e-mails you all rock you really made my day :)) It was the first and probably the last time people at my party will sing 'May Jesus bless you on your birthday.' But who knows, at the rate I'm going, when
I turn twenty people at my party could be singing 'May Allah bless you with many children in your upcoming arranged marriage with the son of the uman.'

This past week I celebrated Shavuot at the temple here in Lima with my adopted Jewish family and a whole gaggle of Israelis on their post-army wandering around the world trip that invariably brings them to Peru to
see Macchu Picchu. Like all good Jews, they made an appearance for the free Kosher food and disappeared shortly afterwards. But how wonderful it was to sit and eat and talk with Israelis again--real, honest to
goodness Israelis! I almost forgot what real 'ruach' is (singing, literally translated as 'spirit').

Suddenly all my USY songs that had gotten rusty since I arrived hear came flooding back, banging on the table like old times so hard the forks jumped against the glasses, singing at the top of my lungs so loud I lost my voice the next day, that feeling in the air of that something special.

I had come directly from the Independencia and I still had the songs from our skit 'Jesus is the bread of life' stuck in my head. But when I started to sing 'Al Kol Eileh' or 'Kol Haolam Kulo' or 'Yerushalayim shel Zahav' I oculdn't keep the smile off of my face--I may be 6,000 miles from Boston and 15,000 miles from Jerusalem but suddenly I felt I WAS HOME.

For the first time since I arrived in Peru, I felt like I had finally found a place to fit in. Maybe physically I still don't know here to lay my head and emotionally I odn't know where to call home, but when I sing these songs I KNOW I belong with the people around me. Jesus may live in the heart of the people I work and live with right now. But--'Am Yisrael Chai'--the nation of Israel lives. And as long as I can still find people to sing that song with, as long as the forks are still jumping and as long as everybody around me is singing at the top of their lungs so that the glass rattles in the window panes, I know I'm alive, also, I'm alive and I'm a part of the Nation of Israel.

Until the next time, be well and be happy.
Cuidanse mucho (take care),
Melanie

The whole world is a narrow bridge
But the main thing is not to fear