It never rains but it pours

Literally speaking, this saying is not at all true in Lima. It NEVER pours in Lima and it almost never really rains either. But activity-wise, it seems to be consistently true for my life in Peru... either I have nothing to do, or I barely have a minute to sleep.

For most of August after my vacation, I was in low-key mode. Working with the choirs, doing my parish stuff, even being a good housemate and keeping up with my cleaning, cooking, trips to the market, etc. There was a week when the electricity was going out every evening any time between 7 and 9 pm, for 5 minutes up to an hour. We had our weekly Confi catechists' meeting by candlelight in the parish multipurpose room, and Miriam's goodbye party (she's going back to the US for another semester of English! so brave!) turned into a romantic candlelight dinner. I was even exercising every morning between prayer and breakfast, inspired by Rebecca's brief stay here... until my left knee got all swollen and stiff and I had to go around in sneakers for a week to get the correct knee alignment back.

Then last week, everything started happening at once. I'll try to write this the way it felt to live it...

One Wednesday, I went with the Adelante class to the Museum of Anthropological History. This involved at various moments me trying to control a group of 16 third-graders inside a museum, letting 50 children down off a bus one at a time to buy ice cream from the vendor who wisely parked his cart right outside and then gave me an ice cream sandwich for free because he was so grateful, getting asked like 15 times by Liliana why I hadn't brought a real lunch with me (i.e. no rice and chicken in a plastic tupperware, just three little cheese sandwiches and fruit--silly me! That's not lunch in Peru!) and wandering around the beach in Chorrillos with the kids and teachers (we stopped on the way back because we were running ahead of schedule, of all things.)
Father Kevin the British Priest of Awesomeness left! and his despedida (goodbye party) was sad and happy at once, everybody danced with the padrecito, I helped my girlfriends from the parish serve the snacks and drinks, there was music and pictures and delicious cake. :)
Thursday, Consuelo, BJ, Adrian, Carmen, and I went to a ceremony in rememberance of the 5th anniversary of the Comission of Truth and Reconciliation, which investigated the violence committed by both terrorists and the military during the 80's in Peru, mostly the victims were poor Quechua-speaking people of the sierra, whole villages were killed and the military was often as bad as the Senderistas. so we went to this ceremony and listened to Grupo Siembra (aka Awesome) and somebody gave a long speech and it drizzled (this being Lima in the winter.)
I got back and a friend who another friend says has a crush on me, but unfortunately is only 18 years old, so sad!, invited me to get something to eat, and I was talking with him till like 9:30 pm. Then Luis Alberto calls me and asks me to play guitar at Saturday's Mass for Santa Rosa (Saint Rose of Lima, real famous, big deal, lots of images decorated with beautiful flowers processing into Mass on the shoulders of their devotees and accompanied by blaring brass bands and light-less firecrackers that sound like gunshots... you know the type.) Me: "Ah, it's 9:30 right now... you're there with the choir practicing NOW? Um... (shrug)... okay!" Grabbed the guitar, hopped a mototaxi down to Las Brisas and practiced with them. Friday, was exhausted. Saturday: taught one little girl from my 5th grade choir a voice lesson in Delicias at 10 am, the others didn't show up. Conversation group. Played guitar in the Mass at Brisas. Did not register surprise at the fact that there was a dog wandering around the church, but found its huge head and little stubby legs hilarious. Went with Sara to the house of a friend of her mom's who was doing an actividad (you know, have a restaurant for a day, sell meat and potatoes and lettuce to everyone you know for 7 soles each in order to get some money together... like y'do.) Ate in the house sharing an armchair with Sara; this armchair plus a strung-up sheet was the wall between the kitchen and the bedroom, the floor was dirt and the roof tin and the walls just boards. Went back to my house and chatted with Sara about being 20-somethings and looking for our vocations in every sense. Confirmation group, then Luis Alberto's house for HIS actividad, better than the first one because his mom cooks awesome.
sunday played guitar in Mass, conversed in English with Enrique, went and taught my last IRFA class in the afternoon. Little party to end the semester. Talked to one of the other volunteer teachers who left her family in the selva 4 years ago and hasn't been back since, sweet, tiny, thin and kind of depressed. Choir rehearsal at night in which I sang one of my original songs which Dante helped me translate into Spanish, and then arranged voice parts for Andrea Bocelli's Con Te Partiró.
At least twice during all this wonderfulness, I squished a flea with my bare fingers. little suckers come wandering out from under your pillow like they own the place.