Cold Spaghetti

Some questions from Eli made me review my pregnancy calendar(s) and re-connect with this pregnancy a bit. I thought I was 27 weeks this week; really, I’m 26. Out of 5 online pregnancy calendars, my due dates were May 4, 5, 6, 6, and 7. So I’ll go with the mode: May 6th. I feel that if the baby decides to be “early,” she’ll be born on April 29th (my mother’s birthday) and if she wants to be “on time” she’ll be born May 5th (Paul’s birthday). (I put the time-related words in quotation because really, any of those dates are fine… our ability to predict gestation by date is limited and shouldn’t be rigidly followed as gospel.)

Any guesses on when this kid will introduce herself to the world?

So, week 26. Here is what I’ve got going on:
– I’m growing a baby that: weighs just under 2 pounds, can open and close her eyes, kicks like a maniac at all hours, can suck her thumb, and is firmly planted on my bladder.
– My 26 week tummy is *significantly* larger than any of these women. (What can I say? I’m short. There isn’t a lot of torso room. I simply have to stretch.)

Saturday will be my first day of the third trimester. (This may have been my problem, I was remembering week 28 at the start of third trimester, but the calendars reminded me that it actually starts at 27.) I am definitely feeling like I’m starting the third trimester. I feel good… but am more tired, finding it more difficult to sleep without belly and leg support, starting to waddle… typical pregnancy stuff!

Video: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man

“Since World War Two we’ve managed to create history’s first truly global empire. This has been done by the corporatocracy, which are a few men and women who run our major corporations and in doing so also run the U.S. government and many other governments around the world.” — John Perkins

Description:
From 1971 to 1981, John Perkins worked as a chief economist for Chas. T. Main, a Massachusetts-based international strategic consulting firm. During this time Mr. Perkins said his job was to trick developing countries into taking enormous loans from the World Bank in order to construct or repair their domestic infrastructure. These loans were given with the understanding that these countries would then use those loans to pay U.S. corportations to complete these constructing and engineering projects. The author writes that when these developing countries were eventually unable to pay off these sizable debts, the United States, World Bank, or IMF would step in and control the country’s security arrangements and budgetary structure.
—

I have a couple of thoughts:
1. I’d like to see it, it’s certainly my field to a “T”
2. The word “trick” is a bit generous (and arrogant). I’d suggest “coerce,” “bribe,” “compel,” “strong-arm,” “pressurize,” “domineer,” or “intimidate.”
3. What, like it’s not transparent that we’re still doing this?
4. Rings of confession from another greedy and trite person seeking 9th hour redemption.

Some interesting and random things…

– Toliet paper trash should be deposited in waste baskets found beside every toilet, not flushed. This is generally because the water pressure can’t quite manage the delicate tissue. We adhere pretty easily to this having been made accustomed during our stays in Honduras. We’re so used to it that we forget to tell other people (I think we finally got around to telling Gwen around day 3 of her visit!)
– Inca Cola is the local carbonated beverage of choice. It is an electric yellow color and smells and tastes exactly like Bazooka bubblegum. Most folks I know drink the “light” variety, but I haven’t yet gained the courage.
– Instead, we drink regular Coke. Never in the States would I dream about drinking a regular Coke. Ick. But here, Coke “light” is made without nutrasweet and (in my opinion) is sort of blah. And for some reason, when abroad, I crave Coke. A RPCV I know swears that a Coke each day will kill bad stuff in your stomache and keep you well. I’m working on that theory.
– Fresh milk is sold “en bolsa” (in bags) and most people buy milk which is ultra-pasterized and does not need to be refridgerated. If you order milk in a restaurant, it will come hot. Milk is also sweetened, so even skim milk has a sweet flavor. This is *very* hard for me. We’ve tried about 5 varieties of milk and nothing comes close to fresh skim, my milk of choice. So my dairy intake is greatly reduced here; I’m a picky milk drinker. (Actually, this has been the case with every country I’ve ever been in, so it’s no great surprise.)
– Will loves the milk, although he isn’t so keen on warm milk.
– Diapers are basically the same as those in the States, with some minor differences — not as much focus on recognizable characters and varieties that come individually wrapped. However, sizes basically end with XXG, which is Will’s size. XXG is also only available in one brand of diaper (Huggies). Considering that he is a size 4 (of 6) in the States and is only about 30 pounds (quite small compared to the gigantic kids we grow in the States) that says something about child size and age at potty training!
– We’ve fallen in love with quinoa. It’s a protein-rich grain that grows in the Sierra. Awesome.
– We have a water delivery service that works 7 days a week and delivers the water within an hour of your call. Each new bottle is 14 soles (a little less than $4) and we take about a bottle a week. The service now knows us by name and recognizes us within a few seconds of the call; we no longer need to give our address, bottle type, or other information to have a delivery.
– I have text messaging on my local cell phone and I hate it.
– Will goes to the park every morning with Josefina. Early Sunday morning, he asked “Where’s ‘Ina?” (He calls Josefina “Ina”.) And then said, “Va al parque” — it took us a minute to register that he was requesting a park trip in spanish. We are very proud that he is using spanish more and more with us.
– We still do not have the courage to go full turkey and only use spanish at home. I think that I am still lacking in the skills to do this well, yet it is the thing that would probably help me the most.
– There are two clowning schools that teach juggling within a short walk from the house. It is one of the reasons that, when we come back, we want to find a place to live in this neighborhood!
– There is an ice-rink in our district (Miraflores) although we do not know (and sort of doubt) that they have a hockey team.

One of Paul’s great night shots. This is the Malecon, the main road that runs through Miraflores along the cliffside of the ocean. The fancy Marriot is to the left (they have a neat pool that overlooks the ocean, but want $15/day per adult for non-guest use) and Larcomar is to the right past the street vender.

Life abroad, even in these posh circumstances, has some ups and downs. One of them is the reminder of your vulnerability. Water is unpotable* and “things” (foods, glassware, toothbrushes, whatever comes in contact with water) may not be the safest. Our recent example was Gwen, but yesterday, it hit the rest of us a little as well.

Me a little harder, but I actually think pregnancy may have had an influence. Paul brought me garlic treatment** the minute it hit (unfortunately during shower time with Will, who waited patiently playing the water until I, dripping water all over the bathroom, was able to get back in… talk about your glamour moments.) I laid down directly after showering, drank some gatorade, and went to sleep. The bummer is that it is now 4am and I can’t sleep. But at least I feel good. Because we weren’t sure which way the night would go, Paul cancelled my morning spanish class. I have a super-important meeting scheduled for tomorrow with a reproductive health researcher who focuses on violence-related research at Cayetano University (Nancy Palomino; I figure I should getting into the habit of using names on this blog since the Lima-world is literally crashing in with links to folks popping up all over the place).

As we continue to plan what our lives will be like living here long-term, we talk a decent amount about planning our health care. (Note: one thing that the clinic experience with Gwen showed was that, without question, the health care here is way beyond the quality of that in New Orleans, so we do not feel we’re compromising and feel pretty good about getting care here.) The issue is more cost and paying for sudden illness. We now know that getting an IV for a couple of hours for dehydration is going to run us about $100 a visit (if we go to that clinic; I know there are others that are cheaper, but I feel good about sticking with the high-class entities around town.) This conversation lead to the following question:

“How many times a year will each of us need (or want) an IV for dehydration?”

I’m at a bit of a loss on this one, but we know the odds are high enough that it would be silly not to consider. The epidemiologist in me is plotting a not-so-random sample of friends and colleagues. How often would you plan on having an unfortunate bacteria in your tummy?

* We do plan on installing a water purification system in the kitchen when we return. Just to shield us a little more. After all, we’ll have two small kids to worry about.
**Garlic remedy. Chop up garlic, down it with a liquid. Cure for traveler’s tummy. Take it when symptoms hit, before vomitting starts or after it settles down. Don’t knock it ’til you try it; it works.

We’re not smiling in the one that IS in focus, so we’ll have to go with smiles on the one that it out of focus. To be fair, Paul is the master at landscape shots (particularly at night) but people… well… not so much. Just to document that Gwen and Clare were actually okay for the majority of their visit!

Poor Gwen! Sometime after midnight last night, the dreaded traveler’s tummy hit her hard. I became aware during the 3’o’clock hour, when I awoke from a dream about working with people who had TB… there was a lot of coughing in the dream and it took me a few minutes after waking up to realize that I was actually hearing Gwen in the bathroom. The rest of the night was awake to fetch towels and water and cool rags while poor Gwen poured everything into the hall bath.

Valerie came by this morning for our meeting. Paul is still working on her computer and with all the help we needed this morning with the kids, wasn’t able to finish all the necessary tasks. (Not that he would have been able to finish it all even if he hadn’t had to help out with the kids.) But it ended up being very fun to watch him with Clare: she adores him. He has a special “bouncy baby” song he sings to her while dancing a particular dance that, try as I have, I cannot create. So far, 2 out of 2 babies (Will and Clare) report glowing reviews of Paul’s baby technique.

Morning chaos aside, Valerie and I managed to have a productive meeting — consistent with our general time together. Not that we progressed a ton on my dissertation plan, but we needed to touch base before she left (she is now en-route to the States and from there will continue to Mozambique for a MEASURE project). She also came up and checked out Gwen. Her advice, as both a Peruvian and a person very experienced in diarrheal illness, was to go to a clinic and get an IV. Her argument was convincing and her offer of a ride to the Clinic generous — within a few minutes, Gwen, Clare, and I piled into the truck and headed off.

Clinica Anglo Americana was very nice. Not as many english speakers as I thought there would be, but the staff was attentive and pleasant. Gwen was in a bed within 15 minutes of arrival and a doctor saw her within 10 minutes of us being in the room. Most of our waiting involved the staff finding an english-speaking physician (who came over from the pediatric ward) — not because we weren’t able to communicate per se, but because we wanted to be very clear on our expectations and what they were requesting in terms of labs and tests. The bottom line is that they pumped her up with a liter of fluids via IV and I got her to down two bottles of water, a few saltines, and the first of three pills from her US-supplied Z-pack. She was still dehydrated and the staff wanted to give her another liter of fluids, but Gwen was really set on getting out of the clinic (it is difficult to be in a medical setting with an infant and I think the strain was hard on her) so she insisted on leaving and I promised the doctor a continued push of ORS fluids from home. The last doctor we saw was very nice — I regret not getting his name. He spoke some english and I really liked his manner; he was very respectful of Gwen’s desire to leave and was quite thorough in his discharge instructions.

Clare and I bonded while Gwen rested. We roamed the halls for just under an hour — she was so tired but remained a trooper! As a general rule, she was fine as long as I didn’t sit down. Carrying her around for so long taught me that Will has seriously made an impact on my stationary muscles… he’s a bit over 30 pounds now and compared to that, Clare is a feather. My back isn’t particularly happy with me (I have to carry her a bit funny to accomodate my belly) but we managed. Murphy’s Law: when I finally got her to sleep, a crying child woke her up and she had a meltdown. I had to bring her to Gwen to nurse her to sleep and then poor Clare just sort of wound down into a heavy slumber. They both slept soundly, both at the clinic, and then after arriving at home, sometime around 2:30.

Paul won Daddy-Husband awards for both cleaning the hall bath while we were at the clinic and for taking Will to the park to keep the house quiet once we got back. We ordered pizza for dinner (Papa John’s — it was worth the relative splurge and made tonight so much easier on us). Paul and I got Will to bed, I finished up some laundry, packed up Gwen and Clare’s things, confirmed their morning taxi, and am now about to join Paul in bed.

I’m bummed that Gwen and Clare have to leave on a down note with so much more left to explore. Next trip! Except next time, we’ll have Mario, and having another Daddy around makes all the difference in the world!

Today we had lunch with Jim Rudolph, an incredibly friendly and fun guy who has lived in Peru for 20 years, is American, wrote a book about Peruvian politics, runs the American-Canadian expat group, is active in Lima’s Kiwanis club, and knows just about everyone in this town. We first heard of him because he played an active role in helping the folks were renting from find this lovely house we are living in. I learned this morning that Jim was actually one of Valerie’s (my mentor) high school professors and a very good family friend! This city of 8 million gets surprisingly smaller everyday!

Gwen and Clare enjoyed a hot morning in the Peruvian sun while I had spanish this morning and were too tuckered out to join us for lunch, so lunch with Jim just included Paul and I. We went to Segundo Muelle, a popular seafood restaurant that overlooks the ocean from the other side of Las Terrazas, just beyond the Lover’s Park. It was great!! Jim had a local dish, sort of like ceviche, which I tried. It was delicious — much different than I was expecting — and makes me excited to try ceviche some day. (The jury is still out on whether it will happen this trip… I am still nervous being pregnant and all!) We all enjoyed great meals (I had a grilled local catch, a white fish… Corvina, maybe?) and wonderful conversation.

Will gives Clare “un besito”

Josefina was extra busy with Will today and didn’t get a chance to work on dinner. Rather than go it ourselves, we decided to go out! Here is Gwen and Clare silhouetted against the sunset, looking over the ocean from Mango’s cliffside dining room.