We are two weeks deep in to training and I finally realized it was about time to tackle my laundry. During one of my daily talks with my host grandmother, who I always say hello to before going up to my room which is on the third floor. Most of the time the conversation consists of the greetings, one story from the day in which I prove that I can't really talk in past tense, and then a lot of staring at the table. But today I had an agenda, I was going to get her to teach me how to wash clothes by hand. She laughs with a her full toothless smile and leads me upstairs to the sink. With the bar of soap she shows me how to individually scrub each piece of clothing, easy enough. I smile an nod at our successful charades conversation and she goes back to cooking her classic chicken noodle soup downstairs. 

     Alright I can do this, just a bit of scrubbing here and there. I get all my clothes all soaped up when I realize the conversation did not cover the rinsing part of the directions. None the less my vocab is not adequate to go down and ask her so I improve this part, it later becomes apparent that my improving was weak as the following week I fell as though I am constantly wearing a good layer of soap, but thats besides the point!

    After they are semi-rinsed I walk up the stairs to the roofs. Roofs in Peru have several purposes:

1) To dry clothes

2) To keep you dogs

3) To keep extra building supplies

4) To keep your open fire cooking set up just in case. 

I have two small dogs on my roof who love to put up a good whine when I go up there as well as jump on my legs. At this time I found them good company and kind of cute. However two days later when I return to take down my laundry in the dark they are simply a tripping hazard, and then as I am grabbing my last smartwool sock off the line it drops to the ground. One of the dogs is hot to trot on it, snaps it up and runs off to a very dark corner, and I yap after it. All I hear is some moving of word, some digging, and then the dogs back with no sock in sight. I promptly take my laundry down to my room and come back equipped with a headlight. I walk back to the dark corner and find that this is not only where the dog hides its treasures but also where it poops and pees. I have no interest in digging through that pile of wood to find the sock, it was just going to be 1 point for the dog none for me.

     It is not until several days later that I go to put on my favorite pair of Yala leggings that I look down and see holes all around the ankles of the leggings, clearly the dog had had a grand old time playing with the hanging leggings. 2 points for the dog 0 for me. Fortunately two years back when I was a corps member at City Year Comcast gave us all travel sewing kits made just for situations like this! I wip it up and stitch up the leggings all the while thinking of ways to get revenge on those dogs as well as how to ask my grandma about the proper way of rinsing clothes!

    Dogs here are interrupting many parts of my life including my confident stride down streets, my ability to run or exercise, and my genuine like of dogs.  However they also provide some good entertainment particularly the infamous peruvian hairless dog, which are a thing, and yes are hairless. Today we walked behind a whole family who had just gotten new leashes for their dogs, and they were attempting to take their 5 small dogs out for a walk, the dogs were going crazy, needless to say it was a lot of dragging the dog on the leash than walking!

        On September 10^th 2013 I gave a tearful good bye to my family, and boarded the plane to Peru with a slight detour to Washington DC for what Peace Corps calls ‘staging’. Unfortunately the tears were not simply due to the departure from loved ones but also from the intense burning sensation that seemed to be lighting up what I shall refer as my wahoo area.  I quickly realized that a yeast infection was going to be the cherry on top of what was sure to be a tumultuous day. Much to the dismay of my aisle seatmate I got to become very familiar with the claustrophobic airplane bathrooms and the startling suction of the flush that may have taken away my pee but certainly did nothing to help the fiery pain in the wahoo. For the duration of the plane ride when I wasn’t crying I was peeing, which just lead to more tears of pain, needless to say it wasn't pleasant.

            Finally I landed in DC nearing midnight, grumpily lugged my stuff to a taxi, and made my way to the hotel. I opened up my room door to be greeted by a hug and a huge smile from my roommate. On a scale of one to excitement she was off the charts and my wahoo was not. I peed, wiped, held back screams, and went to bed dreading having to put on a show of meeting 55 people the next day when most of my mind was stuck up my wahoo.

            Staging consisted of listening to people talk about expectations and for me many painful trips to the bathroom while still smiling the whole time, knowing that these people were my future best friends, I had to make a good impression!  About half way through the staging event it became too much and I realized I should be a bit more proactive. We were going to get done after the pharmacies closed, and did I have any way of getting around so I started researching natural remedies on my phone. I was particularly intrigued by the three top picks (as I’m sure many of you know) garlic, plain yogurt, and tea tree oil.  It wasn’t until the diagrams on the wikihow page that I realized one did not simply eat copious amounts of these things but rather shoved them up the wahoo. It was in the depths of these diagrams that one of my future friends walked up behind me to presumably ask where I was from but upon glancing at my phone decided maybe he should go talk to someone else.

            That night Peace Corps was kind enough to a to arrange a shuttle to a nice part of town where we could treat ourselves to one last meal in DC. I walked as normally as possible onto that bus hoping it dropped us somewhere where I could find some sort of remedy. My dreams were answered by the natural foods store just one block down. I ducked out of the Peace Corps crowd murmuring something about snacks for the plane and headed straight for the yogurt shelf. The full of fat and delicious cultures plain yogurt trembled in my hand as I pulled it down from the refrigerator and through the checkout aisle. I placed it in my bag and met up with my future friends for a delicious last state side meal.

            It wasn’t until a couple hours later that I got back to the hotel to find my roommate chilling there. I made some small talk but mostly focused on hitting up the fancy toilet with my plain yogurt. I hadn’t even started my service and I found myself in an uncomfortable bathroom situation with lukewarm plain yogurt, and a burning wahoo. After much struggle in which most of the yogurt ended up being flushed down the toilet I clean the bathroom up a bit and emerged from the bathroom smelling of yogurt but with faith that this remedy would work!

            Two days later, after we arrived in Peru I had a one on one conversation with one of the Peace Corps doctors. I of course get placed with the one male doctor who I promptly inform that there is burning in my wahoo. Unfazed he tells me to buck up, for this is the Peace Corps and only the beginning!