For the dew days after the first flooding, we were all running around doing random projects to help refugees.  We carried spaghetti, bread and hot chocolate for over 100 peopleit accross a sketchy bridge and through washed out railroad tracks and serve it to the line of desperate and pushy people in near darkness and strong winds.  But somehow I never really got the warm fuzzies.  (I feel like a jerk for saying it, but I don't really understand what's preventing the people from helping themselves.)

Finally, the next day in Yucay, I left my duty in the assembly line of making food bags and I went to go talk to a group of Peruvian women who were sitting on the lawn waiting for the handout.  They agreed with me that it was time to start reconstructing and that they wanted to start working, but that everything was so disorganized.  I went up to the mayers office (which felt like I was going to the Wizard of Oz) and after a few conversations with some of the community leaders, I was starting to see the people starting to work together to get stuff done.

After all that, I finally had a breath of fresh social air when my spanish prof invited a bunch of us over to make causa (a peruvian sheperd´s pie), pisco sours, and good ol´American  apple pie (that was oh-my-golly so delicious).  Afterwards we all went out to a disctotec and we had the whole place to ourselves.  I was having a fine time until Henry (my host brother) popped my solo-dancing bubble and tried to salsa with me (emphasis on the TRIED... I think he has 4 left feet).  After about 2 minutes, I was litterally running away. But other than that, it was a good time.

But then the next morning, Raul (my host dad) interrogated me about how I could be out dancing when other people were crying.  I simply explained that it was healthy to relax and have some fun when we spend all day working with people in tragic situations.  But then suddenly he started saying *Very good,  my daughter, very good.  I have such a hard working daughter.  Shall we eat breakfast?*  I still don't quite understnad my host dad.