Host Dad

Perdro Caseres Alverez is my host father. He is a sixty-seven-year-old father of two. He is really does it all. I have never seen someone like him in my life. He fixes cars, tractors, chainsaws, tables, windows. He builds houses, shacks, ramadas, his own bee-hives, corrals, subterranean irrigation systems, and he welds. He wears many hats professionally also. He is a park guide at Chaparral, an active member of the board of ACOTURCH (the managerial organization for Chaparri), a beekeeper (28 hives, the honey is incredible!!!!), and he is a farmer. Not only a substance farmer, but he cycles his crops and he diversifies what he plants. But he is so much more than words. It is his thirst for education and pursuit to better him self that keeps me inspired while working here. On days he can’t work due to illness or in a strong downpour, you can find him in his room reading. He spends his days between his rice patty and the nature reserve. He does all of this while caring for his mother (Gangie, gain-gui as I call her).
The first time I met Pedro is a very funny story to tell. We have what is called counterpart day when we arrive for site visit, a week in the middle of training where break the ice in our sites. We meet the people representing who we will be working with for the next two years. After a day long workshop your counterpart/s take you back to see your site, host family, house and room for the first time. Pedro was not one of the people who came to the workshop. We got out a little late from counterpart day so we did not arrive to site until it was dark. It should be mentioned this is the first time it really dawned on me that I would be alone. This is where my inter monologue becomes a very intricate part of my life. We had to go all the way into Chongoyape to get transportation to my house. A rickshaw motor-cycle is the only form of transportation that would take us. I am ready for it. We pulled up to a large metal gate connecting two dilapidating adobe walls. The driver honks his horn into the pitch black night. After a couple of honking sessions an older man holding a table candle emerges to see about the commotion. My counter part yells to him, “Pedro, the gringo has arrived!” Pedro then opens the gate. We have a rapid exchange of formalities, and he shows me to my room. I could not see much until Pedro handed me my wax illuminator. As the my eyes survey my room for the next two years I was very surprised to see a bed that resembled something that I had slept on before. I was set. Pedro asked me if I had a mosquito net. I told him I would have one when I moved in permanently. He shrugged and said that it was not necessary but made life more comfortable. He assured me that when I came back in a month that I would have window panes. I shrugged and told him that they were not necessary but made life more comfortable. He got the joke. What a relief! He told me that his mom was sleeping and I would meet her tomorrow. There is no feasible way that I could have imagined what was in store for me. Pedro went back to sleep and I went to get comfortable.
My bed is made from a frame very similar to what we have in the states. The support is a series of mismatched planks. Not only do they very in length but also in width. My mattress is made of straw. This is perfect. I prefer to sleep on hard surfaces. I put my head to rest. As my I started to drift off I heard a fluttering noise above my head. I have to take a deep breathe convincing myself I really do want to know what is lurking about. It was nothing more than a bat. I remember thinking that as long as it does not land on me I will keep my cool. Plus they eat insects so in a weird way they would help keep my zone clean and safe. I drifted off once again, only to be awoken once again. The noise was much more disturbing than that of the bats. It was a loud howl. It reminded me of a monkey. Great bats and wild monkeys in my room? I did not sit up right away. I figured no one had slept in this room for a while so maybe the battling animals didn’t know that I was there. It was pretty dark, but I made out the monkey beast. It was not a monkey at but some nocturnal bird who’s call sounded like some kind of attacking chimpanzee. I guess my room was prime hunting ground for creatures of six legs or more. I put my mp3 player in my ears and went to sleep thinking about my next two years. At least I was not sleeping on dirt. At least the Pedro knew who I was. At least they were birds and not a troop of monkeys, but most of all. Where could I get windowpanes?