My eyes are tired and my heart often beats with the fear that I am missing something...something big here in Peru. It feels much too easy to fall into a routine here than the live-out-loud experience I 'wanted' this to be. But I suppose that's what I get for having expectations and beliefs about what I could really do here...to help, and to travel. Fatigue is a nearly constant companion of mine these days, but so is happiness.
Yes, I am happy here. I find myself laughing and smiling at so many things each day; the orphan boys tipping each other out of the hammock, one of the children at Pachacutec flanking a volleyball into the neighbouring 'yard' so that we have to recruit one of the younger children to squeeze in between two of the boards used to separate properties in this shantytown to retrieve our ball or Marie and me singing "We are the Champions" after our first successful bus trip alone.
Although it has taken me awhile, I am beginning to find some peace here. And I truly think it is because I am starting to see a clearer reality of where I fit and how I can help. It is still hard for me to see past the overwhelming (correct) stereotype of myself as a wealthy white girl coming to 'help' the cute brown children, but as I begin to form relationships with the people I am trying to help, I am realizing that my money will run out, and can only go so far, but that the love I can give them will, hopefully, make an even bigger impression on them. Celia told me the other day how she really tries to be a mother figure for the orphan boys at Hogar because they don't really have any female role models, and that everything we do for them is a memory in their childhood. Just like I have memories of camping and road trips and Brandon Fair, if we make an effort to do special things with the boys, it will hopefully help them to look back on their childhoods a little bit more fondly. There was a little girl at Pachacutec on Tuesday who would not stop clinging to me. Everytime I looked at her I saw only sadness and loss in her eyes. We sat for a long time while I sang to her.
I think one of the biggest things I can do here is simply listen to people. I know that sounds ridiculous because I don't even speak Spanish, but it seems to me that many of the people with whom I am working are in desperate need of a listening ear, a back rub, and a hug. On Wednesday one of the special needs ladies at Hogar (she calls me Mama) came up to me and was crying about something. We just sat and for a while she told me what was going on (yeah, I had no clue what she was saying, although I can't say for sure I would have even if I WAS fluent in Spanish) and then I held her hand and rubbed her back and we sang together for a little while. Later on when one of the other ladies was crying, she was brought to me to 'release her burdens'. I find it rather amusing that someone as lost and confused as myself can seem like such a stable comforter to anyone, but these women are in desperate need of people they can trust and who love them and who are willing to take time to sit down and listen to them, to feel with them. I can do that.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Saturday, February 20, 2010
real peanut butter
The peanut butter at Lidia's house is real, none of the sugary Kraft business.
This week has been trying. The contrasts that rule my day are exhausting and life giving at the same time. The mornings are full of pain but still have so much laughter and happiness. Monday
Wednesday and Friday are spent at hogar. Thus far I have been working with the special needs community. There is a nineteen year old girl here who has serious growth problems and looks like a six year old. She doesn't speak and spends the vast majority of her time in a dark room with one other boy who is severely disabled. I am trying to work with her (Geraldine) as much as possible. Singing to her and taking her outside in a wheelchair because she doesn't walk. I want to get lamps and classical music and mobiles for her room and fix her wheelchair because it's broken and we have to stop like every five seconds because the wheel gets stuck. Yesterday I also played bingo with the elderly people at hogar and the lady I was helping won (I didn't want to admit it, but I was getting REALLY competitive and probably would have been super upset if we didn't win). Tuesday and Thursday we go to Pachacutec, a town about an hour bus ride away. This is a huge town entirely of shanties built on top of what seem to be sand mountains. The poverty is a constant pressure on my soul when I am there, yet the children with whom we are working make me laugh more than anyone else here. They truly believe in investing in people....I wish I was more like that. Probably my favourite part of Pachacutec is playing volleyball, we do it every time after snack and it's so fun (and also requires minimal spanish, which also is a plus).
So we volunteer in the morning and then come home for lunch and have our afternoons free. Thus far I have gone to a traditional Peruvian dance show, a futball match, the centre of Lima, and to Miraflores yesterday. And here there is no poverty, it is rare even to see people begging in these places. Miraflores is wonderful, I love it. There are so many young people and SURFING!!!! eeek, I am hoping to go today. I kind of freaked out when I saw the people surfing, I think Hector thinks I'm crazy, and I know Juan does because he told me haha.
I'm trying, right now, to just embrace and soak in the experiences I am having without placing judgment. This is not my country or my city and I still have so very much to learn about how things are. Even though it is different than I expected, I am trying my best to accept everything I am seeing and doing and love it for what it is.
This week has been trying. The contrasts that rule my day are exhausting and life giving at the same time. The mornings are full of pain but still have so much laughter and happiness. Monday
Wednesday and Friday are spent at hogar. Thus far I have been working with the special needs community. There is a nineteen year old girl here who has serious growth problems and looks like a six year old. She doesn't speak and spends the vast majority of her time in a dark room with one other boy who is severely disabled. I am trying to work with her (Geraldine) as much as possible. Singing to her and taking her outside in a wheelchair because she doesn't walk. I want to get lamps and classical music and mobiles for her room and fix her wheelchair because it's broken and we have to stop like every five seconds because the wheel gets stuck. Yesterday I also played bingo with the elderly people at hogar and the lady I was helping won (I didn't want to admit it, but I was getting REALLY competitive and probably would have been super upset if we didn't win). Tuesday and Thursday we go to Pachacutec, a town about an hour bus ride away. This is a huge town entirely of shanties built on top of what seem to be sand mountains. The poverty is a constant pressure on my soul when I am there, yet the children with whom we are working make me laugh more than anyone else here. They truly believe in investing in people....I wish I was more like that. Probably my favourite part of Pachacutec is playing volleyball, we do it every time after snack and it's so fun (and also requires minimal spanish, which also is a plus).
So we volunteer in the morning and then come home for lunch and have our afternoons free. Thus far I have gone to a traditional Peruvian dance show, a futball match, the centre of Lima, and to Miraflores yesterday. And here there is no poverty, it is rare even to see people begging in these places. Miraflores is wonderful, I love it. There are so many young people and SURFING!!!! eeek, I am hoping to go today. I kind of freaked out when I saw the people surfing, I think Hector thinks I'm crazy, and I know Juan does because he told me haha.
I'm trying, right now, to just embrace and soak in the experiences I am having without placing judgment. This is not my country or my city and I still have so very much to learn about how things are. Even though it is different than I expected, I am trying my best to accept everything I am seeing and doing and love it for what it is.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
tie dye bathing suit
I have arrived! I am safe and sound in Lima, Peru...although I have yet to experience much of it. My flights were uneventful and long. From Houston to Lima I met a beautiful older woman who had grown up in Lima and now lives in Oregon, so she was so excited to tell me all about her city and country and kept suggesting places I go and things to see. I also sat beside an elderly man who was ultra worried about me being in Lima 'alone'.
When I stepped off the plane the first thing I noticed was the humidity. You can even feel it inside the airport. The air here is thick and wet, but I love it. After getting through customs you must walk through this super intense arrival area where people waiting for you are restricted from coming to meet you directly...I think they're afraid all the people offering a 'taxi?' would trample the people who have just arrived. At this point I began scanning signs, hoping desperately that my name would be on one of them because I REALLY didn't want to have to find a phone and call Lidia and get peskered by even more taxi drivers. Luckily, I soon spotted a cute Peruvian boy holding my name (HELLO Peru). Somehow we managed to meet each other outside of the walkway and the boys (Hector was joined by Juan, who was probably there the whole time, I just didn't see him) grabbed my bag for me, soonafter remarking that I must be a very strong woman to have been carrying this. They said it looked like it didn't weigh very much the way I was carrying it. We walked to Hector's car at which point I realized that pretty much my entire life depended on these two boys who I had just met because they could pretty much be taking me anywhere. Luckily for me, Juan speaks English very well and we chatted a bit on the way home. He was surprised I could feel the humidity, he said he had never noticed it. As soon as Hector started the car, loud music began playing from the speakers. Thank the LORD! I had been feeling music deprived seeing as all Mom and Dad do while driving is talk about teaching, I had tried to sing to myself, but it just wasn't the same.
After a short drive, we arrived at a house that has bars with a lock on the front and a lady who I recognized from photos to be Ana Lidia. She gave me a hug and welcomed me into my home. Nearly everyone had stayed up to meet me and so there was a lot of kissing and 'mucho gustos'. Almost everyone then promptly went to bed seeing as they went to church this morning and are fasting all day. Lidia stayed up a while and talked to me for a bit and then I went to hang out with the other three volunteers, Colleen, Celia, and Justin. Two more girls will be arriving today and I'll be sharing a room with them.
Lidia's house is beautiful. The dining room opens onto the patio and a small enclosed yard with a hammock and a table that currently holds pastels and markers for art. Off the yard are two other rooms as well as stairs to get to the roof where I anticipate to spend some time tanning and reading and hanging laundry to dry. The smells and, even more than that, the sounds here are already so wonderful. Neighbours squabbling in Spanish, airplanes flying overhead, horns honking, birds singing and lots and lots of music.
I'm so excited to explore more of this city and country......
I couldn't upload that so now I have seen the first place where I will be volunteering, Hogar de Christo. It is so hard for me, seeing the things that I saw today. I find myself removing myself from the situation and trying to block some of the love that wants to come out of me as a defence mechanism so I do not lose my mind. I want to help them all, to speak to them and hug them and kiss them. The people with whom I will be working are so human, yet the conditions in which they live are incredibly inhumane. There are many problems with this facility, but there seems to be much love and hope and beauty within the souls of most of the people living there. When we arrived three little boys kept screaming and chasing after us, bashfully hiding on the stairs until Lidia introduced us to them (always with a kiss on the cheek and sometimes a hug). A young man who has severe developmental problems will come kiss one of us on the cheek and run away grinning and shy, biting his hand. I feel somewhat hopeless, but at the same time I think I will learn to feel empowered and strong through this experience.
Time to go, I'm using Marie's (a fellow volunteer) computer.
I love you all.
I couldn't upload that so now I have seen the first place where I will be volunteering, Hogar de Christo. It is so hard for me, seeing the things that I saw today. I find myself removing myself from the situation and trying to block some of the love that wants to come out of me as a defence mechanism so I do not lose my mind. I want to help them all, to speak to them and hug them and kiss them. The people with whom I will be working are so human, yet the conditions in which they live are incredibly inhumane. There are many problems with this facility, but there seems to be much love and hope and beauty within the souls of most of the people living there. When we arrived three little boys kept screaming and chasing after us, bashfully hiding on the stairs until Lidia introduced us to them (always with a kiss on the cheek and sometimes a hug). A young man who has severe developmental problems will come kiss one of us on the cheek and run away grinning and shy, biting his hand. I feel somewhat hopeless, but at the same time I think I will learn to feel empowered and strong through this experience.
Time to go, I'm using Marie's (a fellow volunteer) computer.
I love you all.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
too many clothes....
Packing for the Future: Instructions
By Lorna Crozier (she is SUCH an inspiration)
Take the thickest socks.
Wherever you’re going
you’ll have to walk.
There may be water.
There may be stones.
There may be high places
you cannot go without
the hope socks bring you,
they way they hold you
to the earth.
At least one pair must be new,
must be blue as a wish
hand-knit by your mother
in her sleep.
*
Take a leather satchel,
a velvet bag and an old tin box –
a salamander painted on the lid.
This is to carry that small thing
you cannot leave. Perhaps the key
you’ve kept though it doesn’t fit
any lock you know,
the photograph that keeps you sane,
a ball of string to lead you out
though you can’t walk back
into that light.
In your bag leave room for sadness,
leave room for another language.
There my be doors nailed shut.
There may be painted windows.
There maybe signs that warn you
to be gone. Take the dream
you’ve been having since
you were a child, the one
with open fields and the wind
sounding.
*
Mistrust no one who offers you
water from a well, a songbird’s feather,
something that’s been mended twice.
Always travel lighter
than the heart.
By Lorna Crozier (she is SUCH an inspiration)
Take the thickest socks.
Wherever you’re going
you’ll have to walk.
There may be water.
There may be stones.
There may be high places
you cannot go without
the hope socks bring you,
they way they hold you
to the earth.
At least one pair must be new,
must be blue as a wish
hand-knit by your mother
in her sleep.
*
Take a leather satchel,
a velvet bag and an old tin box –
a salamander painted on the lid.
This is to carry that small thing
you cannot leave. Perhaps the key
you’ve kept though it doesn’t fit
any lock you know,
the photograph that keeps you sane,
a ball of string to lead you out
though you can’t walk back
into that light.
In your bag leave room for sadness,
leave room for another language.
There my be doors nailed shut.
There may be painted windows.
There maybe signs that warn you
to be gone. Take the dream
you’ve been having since
you were a child, the one
with open fields and the wind
sounding.
*
Mistrust no one who offers you
water from a well, a songbird’s feather,
something that’s been mended twice.
Always travel lighter
than the heart.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
butterflies
My Peru blog....
It is almost distressing to me, thinking that I will be in a foreign continent, with a foreign language and foreign customs in less than a week. I am experiencing such a myriad of emotions; mainly terror and excitement. I hope this trip will challenge and change me in more ways than I anticipate. I know it will cause me to re-evaluate my way of living, my importance in the world, and the way that I dream.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing god who is sending a love letter to the world.
*Mother Teresa
It is almost distressing to me, thinking that I will be in a foreign continent, with a foreign language and foreign customs in less than a week. I am experiencing such a myriad of emotions; mainly terror and excitement. I hope this trip will challenge and change me in more ways than I anticipate. I know it will cause me to re-evaluate my way of living, my importance in the world, and the way that I dream.
I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing god who is sending a love letter to the world.
*Mother Teresa
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