American Music

At IPCNA, where I was working, each class session lasts one month. Last month, I finished covering all the material I had been given one day early, so I needed to find something to do for the last day. I was initially going to show a movie, but then I had a better idea. The students always want to listen to music in class, but the music they want to listen to sometimes lacks in variety. The American music that is popular in Peru is all pretty much all from the 80s. I do thoroughly enjoy listening to Aha and the Titanic theme song, but I feel that there is more out there, so I came up with a plan. I would spend the class playing different songs and going over the lyrics with the students. This would both teach them English and familiarize them with new music that wasn’t “We are the World” by Michael Jackson. I spent an entire day choosing songs that had both cultural significance and coherent lyrics, and by the class time I was really excited about my idea. When I started playing the songs and trying to get the students to discuss them, however, it became apparent that they did not share my enthusiasm. They kept complaining more and more and paying less and less attention so eventually I just gave up and played the Thriller video for them. This made them completely happy even though we had watched “Thriller” the last two days in a row.

I’m not quite sure why this happened. It’s possible that they just have no desire to experience anything new, which would be very sad. It is also possible that since the music I was playing was not accompanied video it was not stimulating enough to hold their attention, which is probably more likely and at least equally discouraging, because some of them are college students. It’s also possible that the lyrics were too difficult for them to understand, but not very likely because they don’t understand the lyrics to songs that they do like either. Or maybe it's just that “How Deep is Your Love” is the high point of all musical history.

Pepe

I was walking past the front office at IPCNA one day, on my way to work, when Claudia, the receptionist, waved to me to come and talk to her. Went I went over she introduced to a man named Pepe and said that Pepe wanted me to do something for him. Pepe didn’t speak any English so he explained to me in Spanish that he wanted me to write an exposition. I asked him several times what he wanted me to write an exposition about and eventually I got him to explain that it needed to be about the difference in between North American business practices and Peruvian business practices. I told him that I was going to need more information before I could write anything so he had me give him my email address so his son could email me. I exchanged several emails with his son, who was also named Pepe, and eventually deciphered that he was attending college in Utah and wanted me to write an essay for his English composition class. The essay needed to be 6 pages long with at least 4 secondary sources and “as many primary sources as possible” and was due in four days. The topic was the portrayal of violence on American television. It should be noted that the difference between the two descriptions of the essay were not due a language barrier but the fact that Pepe Sr. did not actually know specifically what he was enlisting me to do. While I had been exchanging emails with Pepe Jr, Pepe Sr. had been repeatedly calling me and asking for updates on the situation and trying to set up a time to meet me. I had been avoiding the meeting because I really had nothing to talk to Pepe Sr. about. Once I found out what exactly was being asked of me it became clear that I had neither the desire nor the ability or resources to do it. Pepe Sr. had said that he would pay me an unspecified amount, but I decided that whatever that amount was it would most likely not be enough. I emailed Pepe Jr. to say that I wasn’t going to be able to help him because there were no English language libraries available in Chiclayo for me to access secondary sources. I asked him to tell his father what I had said because I didn’t know enough Spanish to properly explain it. This wasn’t entirely true; I did know enough Spanish but I felt it important to avoid Pepe Sr. The reason for this was that Pepe Sr. worked in the Immigration department. Pepe’s job was a problem for me because I am working in Peru illegally; I don’t have a work permit. The director of the English Institute told me that this would not be a problem because all the immigration officers were his friends, but if anyone gave me trouble I should just tell them I was volunteering. However, it was pretty reasonable to assume that if I angered an immigration officer he could cause me a lot of problems. For this reason I was reluctant to tell Pepe that I was going to stand by and let his son fail out of college.

After I sent the email I crossed my fingers that that would be the end of it and went to class. While I was teaching Pepe Sr. called me three times without leaving a message, and when I called him back after class and he told me that he was waiting for me in the lobby of the building I was pretty much expecting to be deported. As I was walking down the stairs I was making a list of the things I would need to do before the leaving the country, and trying to figure out where I would go. When I met him in the lobby and told him that I wasn’t going to be able to write the paper because I didn’t have access to any books, however, he amazingly didn’t seem upset at all. He said that that was fine and introduced me to a friend of his and told me that if I ever needed anything to come and see him.

When I came in to work the next day I was still more or less expecting someone to tell me that I was being deported, but nothing happened. On my way home, however, I ran into Pepe Sr. on the street. He was drunk and rambled at me for a while about nothing in particular but repeated adamantly that I should come to see him if I ever needed anything. Two days later I saw him again on the street, even more drunk this time and with a friend who told me that I was giant like a tree in the forest. Once again he declared that I was to come and see him if I were ever in need of assistance.

I had initially assumed that Pepe was asking to write the essay because he knew that I was working there illegally and was using that knowledge to leverage me into doing something for him. That would have at least been a logical explanation. It now appears that, well, he's just Pepe.