What a week. Some hours in the lab were so repetitive and slow, but others flew by. I was counting seeds, extracting seeds from wild potato berries (bayas), and making labels. All this was for the collection of papas silvestres- wild potatoes. These are not edible, but are preserved for traditional breeding purposes. The main operator of this program is named Alberto Salas. He collected about 60% of the entire potato collection here at CIP- 3,000 to 4,000 varieties. The figure on the number of varieties is not exact to this date. Dr. Ellis, the supervisor of the gene bank, told me it is not officially know how many varieties A. Salas collected because many were collected while he was studying under his predecessor. Therefore in the literature, these potatoes were attributed to his predecessor. "We Salas' lab notebooks though," Dr. Ellis told me Friday night. "He was doing 12 or more collection trips per year when others were doing two or three." Dr. Ellis also described the method of collecting, which when told as a story, as he did, sounds like quite an adventure. First they would look through the records to determine the climate, land forms, and areas a potato was encountered and recorded in the past. Then, the collection team would drive there by bus. Alberto would look out the bus windows, and when he saw something promising, he would as the bus driver to stop (baja, baja), give candy out to all the other passengers to pacify them, and jump out to investigate. Dr. Ellis told me that on collecting trips together, they'd do the same,but in their own vehicle. After arriving in an area, Alberto would talk to local farmers, mechanics, and show owners to find where people had seen plants fitting their description. How incredibly rich the local knowledge. Alberto Salas is fluent in Spanish and Quechua, the native language of the interior. I am convinced this is invaluable.
What a legacy this lab has, and I've only just started here. Meanwhile, it is now the weekend, and I have moved to my home for the week in Miraflores. After this week, I will return to the dormitories at CIP. There is much more to see and do in Miraflores, but going out in the city scares me. I never quite feel safe here. There is always an underlying feeling of unease. I cannot blend in at all and I don't understand Spanish when unfamiliar words are spoken quickly. I get a lot of stares, and this makes me so uncomfortable. I went for a myrist run on Thursday evening. Evne though the view was beautiful- mountains, fields of all different types of crops, couples laying in the grass together, a brilliant full moon just starting to rise at the end of my run- I couldn't relax. There was still the backdrop of speeding cars, people speaking a language I strain to half- understand, people looking at me like they had never seen a runner (which cannot be true because I've seen runners here). Perhaps the stares are just my perception and not the reality. I want so badly to blend in and pass by unnoticed, going about my business, thinking my own private thoughts, etc.
This afternoon I began to feel more at ease with things. Dogs played in the soft late afternoon grass of the park nearby my house in Miraflores. How peaceful and beautiful. I had just made my first trip alone to the grocery store near my house. It was a success. I waited as long as I possibly could to go to the store, but after leaving my room, the city was significantly less threatening. This evening Rocio and I went for dinner, and I rode the chombi- public bus- for the first time. On the way back, Rocio told me I would have her respect if I hailed it myself. Success! All the while, I felt at ease. Something is beginning to change. I like it.
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