So it’s been a pretty long time since the last post. Life here becomes normal after a while, fewer and fewer events happen that seem worth writing about. As Red says “…prison life consists of routine, and then more routine” and in some ways Peace Corps does as well. Life here becomes pretty normal and you get used to the routine of it all. Happenings that at one time were extra-ordinary now fall into the category of ‘Things you may not expect, but don’t bat an eye at.” For instance, the other day I was sitting in my room, I had decided to forego the movie in favor of reading. As I’m reading I hear a noise. At first I think it’s the rats running around, getting a little brave, so naturally I bang on the wall. The noise continues, I start to look around. To my surprise I find a crab crawling around my room like he’s some surveyor scoping out a new crab sub-division. I go get the broom and the dustpan and get to work. Now who knew those little guys were as fast as they are or that they have the ability to climb walls and wedge themselves into a corner like a cemented brick, but after a struggle I got the best of that claw-handed squatter.
A day passes; I’m immersed in my book at this point, reading on the balcony. A taxi stops, the window rolls down and two hands hold out a fox. The driver looks at me, I look at the fox, he looks at me, and finally the driver ends the stare down, asking if I’d like to buy the fox. Now all my life I’ve waited for this moment, this opportunity to buy a wild fox, but for some unknown reason I decline. The driver calls for my host family and asks them the same question. No go once again. Getting a little curious I ask my cousin what they do with a fox, skin it maybe? No, apparently they’d put it in a zoo. I ask where the nearest zoo is; she looks at me like I’m a bit off and walks back inside.
Writing this out, it seems pretty worthy of a blog post or at the very least some sort of hashtag. Maybe #elcongrejocontraelguapo or #yolofoxinthebag, but here it’s just a part of the everyday life. If I go a week without something like this happening then I start to feel a little off. It would be like buying a box of Gato that was made after 2011, probably fine to ingest but a little weird nonetheless.
And that’s my time here, fine overall but a little weird nonetheless. Everything seems to be a little different, even the ketchup and barbecue sauce at Chili’s. That’s what makes it so interesting. Life will be life, it will happen where it may, but there will always be things, places, people that are similar to where you came from but with that little difference, and that little difference makes it all.
Now I plan for this to lead to more posts, one or two a week, maybe. My time here is winding down and I know how you all wait on pins and needles for the next installment of Grandiose Thoughts and Observations, the informal name in my head, and I plan to deliver. But I’m afraid that one of the similarities between Peru and the States is that I fail to follow through as I should. So if I don’t put up posts like I should, smile at the fact that not everything in this life changes.
And here’s a parting shot of Faique’s night life.
 Ok so not so much, but I really felt like putting in a Shawshank quote.
 Not on my watch congrejo.
 How would I even get the fox in my room? Then what the hell would I do with it? Was it foaming at the mouth?
 I’ve never seen a zoo anywhere near here, never even heard of one.