Smashing Butter

This past Sunday after our presentations at the Bioferia we began our journey to Gracile's town about three hours outside of Lima.  Gracile and Juan (her MESA love interest) are both alumni and currently live in various towns - Marachanca, Ayas, Lima, Arequipa - "migrants" as Juan puts it.  We curved our way through winding roads and ascended to the town of Marachanca, a small pueblo without electricity and in which only a few men actually live (the rest of their families live in the towns below where there are schools and light) to work their chacras.  In Marachanca, we picked up trash, visited a garden with a collection of cacti from the region, helped to rid the soil of grass after being hoe'd (?) by two huge bulls, and ate scrumptious fresh food prepared by Gracile's mother Maria.  She is awesome - lively, optimistic and bouncing with energy all the time.  We munched on fresh plums, homemade peach jam, bread from Los Siete Enanos in Lima, tamales that we assembled, and tons of fresh vegetables during our three days with the family.  For the final lunch, we decided to take charge.  On the tiny, crowded stove we prepared brussel sprouts, a sweet gingery quinoa salad, quinoa patties, and a selection of other goodies.  Earlier in the day, we had joined with a man named Gustavo (who practices biodynamic agriculture) to prune his brussel sprouts and kill the worms that are plaguing his crop right now.  Who knows how many worms we ingested with our lunch...... In Ayas, we also played volleyball and other sports with the community and joined together in a game of trivia about the town, followed by a reward of picarrones (donut-like treats made of sweet potato, squash, and yucca that are dipped in a syrupy substance) for all.  Our last day in Ayas we spent an hour in the factory of Vacas Valices, Gracile's dairy company, squishing the butter to get the water out.  The bus to take us to Maracancha, where we were to get a car to take us to another town and then to Lima, was supposed to arrive between 5 and 6.  It ended up showing up at the factory around 6:15, only to tell us that he planned to pick up a load of alfafa at the top of the mountain and return within the hour.  Of course, in Peru time this translates to about three hours....minimum.  So, slightly frustrated, we ended up descending the mountain on foot as the sun set and we stumbled down rocky paths aided by a few headlights and Juan's phone's flashlight in my case.  Finally, we reached the base of the mountain and sat as huge trucks passed, followed closely by zippy cars darting past them on tight, curvy roads.  We waited.....and waited.....and waited..... In Peru, there is no such thing as timeliness.

Finally, a van from heaven stopped and we piled in.  Somehow, the other men in the van were traveling to Lima as well so we bypassed the second leg of the journey and were dropped directly at the House Project by the end of the night.  An episode of slight frustration with the Peruvian sense of time, but it all worked out.  All in all, our time with Gracile, Juan, and Maria was extraordinary and their vibrant passion made them easy to connect with.  When asked what he misses most about the United States, what was Juan's answer?  Lamb. ;P

The Circle is Complete

Just arrived back in Lima today, after my third 20+ hour bus ride.  This one was rough, winding through narrow roads of the Andes for the whole first half of the trip.  But I made it, and have left behind cross-country bus trips for at least a few years.

Cusco was nice, a time to both rest and to frantically navigate the hidden artisan markets throughout the town.  I had some nice conversations with vendors.  One woman went into a several minute long recitation of the prayer I should say when I get on the bus, and said she would think of me as I traveled.  Another man wondered where I learned Spanish, inquired into what I am studying, and shared his over 7,000 paintings with me.  Although it was high tourist season and therefore impossible to escape the crowds of westerners, I managed to find some markets hidden within Cusco's alleys, places where I was the only white face.  After spending a month in tiny Lamud, Cusco was a bit of a culture shock, with fancy hotels, organic restaurants, and camera-bearing tourists everywhere.  Certain sites inspired memories of my time in Cusco almost four years ago, a Cusco that was similar but certainly seems to have exploded recently.  I had my first 'american' meal in almost a month, a sandwich by the name of the 'campesino' with goat cheese, caramelized onions, quinoa hummus, sundried tomatoes, and zuchinni.  It was delicious, perfect for my first real meal in a few days (because of my shaky stomach) and well worth the hefty price tag in soles (which is still rather inexpensive in dollars).  Cusco was filled with beautiful sunshine and the hostel beds felt like those of a 5 star hotel, but the multitudes of people and the chaos of the tourist industry were overwhelming at times.  Now, I am back in Lima, resting at the House Project and trying to organize some of my belongings, most of which are in need of a long bath.

I'm curious what Dona Marina and the boys are up to; their uncle friended me today so I hope to maintain some contact!  Although Lamud was a bit slow at times for me and it would have been difficult to spend more time away from my family, I miss my host family and wish there was a simple way to bring my two families together.  I would much rather be in Lamud though! Lima is grey grey grey..... and so many people, cars, and homes extending forever beyond the city.

Spending time in Cusco again ignited memories of my past trip to Peru and prompted me to reconsider the reactions I had as a sophomore in high school, compared to those I have had this trip, for a much more extended, in-depth experience of the country.  Four years ago, I returned to the US with a part of me still in Peru, drawn to the beauty of the highlands and the sense of community.  Everyone seemed so happy, able to appreciate the simple parts of every day.  The two weeks prompted me to reconsider my notions of wealth, illuminating the riches of the simplicity of Peruvian life.  While the same reactions hold - I am drawn to the close-knit community of towns like Lamud, the breathtaking natural beauty of the country, and the ability of the people to laugh and enjoy life despite their hardships - six weeks in Peru has also exposed me to the injustices and difficulties with the culture here.  Machismo and domestic abuse is rampant, and according to a peace corps volunteer we met, national self esteem is extremely low.  In certain parts of the country, excessive pesticide and fertilizer use is the norm, and farmers are just beginning to realize the health affects.  Unfortunately, the education process is lacking, and even when farmers understand the consequences, the process of transitioning to organic agriculture can be costly and far too long.  Back to machismo --- even at our few meetings of the Club de Madres in Lamud (the first of which we were half asleep listening to only Spanish), we were able to notice the disparity between the voices of men and women.  The woman leading the meeting principally addressed the men (most of which were there representing their wives anyways) who sat in a line on one side of the room.  Two of the men occupy positions on the board of the Club, and one is crucial for his connection to the police (according to the mothers we spoke with) but the dynamics were provocative.  The woman, for the most part, kept quiet, whispering amongst themselves and listening rather than inserting their opinions.  Another interesting discovery we learned through Maria was that their membership problems stem from a lack of incentive that is fostered through 'welfare' policies of the government.  Because all women with children in school receive monthly checks from the government, Maria told us that many women have no motivation to work or achieve more.  Besides the lack of incentive, women are often discouraged from joining the mother's club by their husbands, who believe their wives should remain in the household and under their control.  The final dilemna that captured my attention was the issue of migration within Peru.  Seeing both sides of the phenomenon - the age disbalance within Lamud and the endless cliffs of precarious wooden shacks outside Lima - completed a picture that most Peruvians only see one side of.  The women we interviewed in Lamud testified to the fact that most youth leave the town after completing school, drawn by the appeal and opportunities of the city.  But Lima is far from perfect, lacking the 'tranquility' that characterizes Lamud and especially on the outskirts, dangerous and scarce of basic infrastructure.  Dona Marina's son lives in Chiclayo, where he is studying to hopefully become a police officer, and they have not seen him in at least two years.  It seems that just about everyone in Lamud had family living elsewhere, whether Lima, Chiclayo or a different city.  How to reconcile dreams and expectations with reality is a struggle that intrigues me.  Thinking about migration, Peru doesn't seem so different from parts of the US.  When I spent time in a small town in Montana senior year of high school, many of the kids came from families who had lived in the town generation after generation.  But urban migration is not unique to Peru, and many of the youth I met were products of the appeal of the city, dreaming of leaving their small towns behind for a brighter future.  The reality?  I don't know....I wonder.  Dona Marina said that sometimes, people return to Lamud after living away for a while, to finish their years in the peace and tranquility of the country.  Driving from Chachapoyas to Lima, passing tiny isolated town after town, perched in peaks of the Andes, their survival throughout the years amazes me.  Some of the towns aren't even towns, a mere two or three homes dispersed across the mountain side.  How to reach these people, to foster  opportunities within their home environments and encourage local development, is a question that remains largely unexplored.  The past six weeks have filled me with bitter realizations, exciting possibilities, and doubts.  The one thing I wish I had more time for was to hear the voices of Peru - what do the people want?  When we asked about growth and development during our interviews, the responses were often vague; I'm not sure everyone understood the broad picture we were attempting to explore.  Do Pablo and Pedro want the life they see through their tiny TV screen?  Do some youth recognize the value in the traditional Peruvian lifestyle, or is it clouded through images of Western grandeur?  When we speak of development, what exactly are we speaking of?

Glimpses of the past few weeks

Here are some photo updates :) first is of Jaclyn Pedro and myself, second of the Independence Day celebrations, third of the Pagua de la Tierra offering,  fourth of me and my brothers, fifth of our 'American' dinner with peace corps friends, sixth of the family and Edmundo at his birthday party, and seventh of Maria's family horse overlooking Lamud.

The Next Steps

A little over 48 hours ago, Jaclyn and I were bidding farewell to our families in Lamud and jumping on a convi to take us to Chachapoyas where we would board the bus back to Lima.  My last night in Lamud I sat in the chair deemed my sitting place with the boys, Dona Marina, and a woman visiting for the Pagua celebration.  They recited all the English words they knew, and gave me phrase after phrase to translate from castellano.  The woman and Pedro compiled a list of all the words - spellings and pronunciations - to practice on their own.  The next morning, my stomach was feeling well enough to drink some tea and eat a piece of bread, and Dona Marina packed me with a bounty of pan integral, bananas, and apples.  Pedro asked his mother why she was crying the night before, and she answered because I was leaving.  She said it will be difficult to have the room empty again, especially when the boys are at school and she is the only one at home.  I promised them I would return, although not as soon as Dona Marina told Pablo I would (by next year she said, with my mom), to prevent him from crying.  At some point I will be back....I can't stay when that will be, but sometime.

The bus ride back to Lima was better than last time, with silent audio for the movies once it got late and postponement of bingo until the end of the journey.  Before I fell asleep, I scribbled something, my only note from the ride, into my journal - 'There's something very alive about these mountains, especially at dusk as your presence slowly shrinks and their grandeur is illuminated.  Their veins, their peaks, the clouds that fall below them.  The mountains are a part of this place.'  Moving through the Andes, I felt slightly connected to home, to the green expanses of the Adirondacks by Lake George and Dartmouth, however different the settings.

We arrived a bit late in Lima, met a smiling Tete at the station, and spent a few hours at Rosi's house.  First warm shower in almost a month!! It was WONDERFUL.  Cutting it a bit close, we made our flight, arrived in Cusco and reunited with Savannah and Margaret at the hostel.  We shared stories, glimpsed at photos, and hugged over coca tea.  It's odd to be back in Cusco, both because of the memories from my high school trip and the culture shock after being in tiny remote Lamud.  Hotel after fancy hotel, 'vegetarian' restaurants abound, and the sounds of English everywhere.  It is a beautiful city, but light years away from the lifestyle of Lamud.  Today I think I will take it easy, trying to get some fuel into my body and rehydrate after being sick.  The rest of the crew is off to Macchu Picchu, and I will see them again tomorrow night.  Ciao!

Farewell Cold Showers

August 3 -
This morning was my last cold shower, guarded by Pablo and Pedro in the bathroom of the aunt's house since workers are currently reconstructing the space.  Showers definitely feel special here, but I can't say that I will miss the piercing water.  Last night was Maria's birthday celebration with a live band (accordian and drums) but I was so tired for some reason, so wasn't as active a dancer as last time.  Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting in the grass with a bunch of ladies and their kids, resting after a large lunch cooked outdoors.  My internal clock won't allow me to sit for as long as they can with a full stomach, so I decided to begin this post.

I was told that I have a 'virgin face' today and further that I should wear a white dress covered with flowers to frollic around.  Not sure exactly what that means....  The women have been asking me when I will come back; I don't think they realize how far the US really is and how expensive plane tickets are.  But they are waiting on the return of myself and my mom..... :)  What else have we done this last week?  Hmmmm, Jaclyn and I took another really long beautiful walk that I will miss, helped out with the thursday feria, harvested corn in Dona Marina's garden, finished up interviews, and shared our observations and visions for the Mother's Club.  Since my last post we also celebrated Peru's independence day, with a flag raising, parade of students and anyone involved with the municipality, and night program featuring dances and a lantern display around town.

More than anything I will miss the times alone with Pablo, Pedro and Dona Marina.  I'm not sure I could take a lifetime of younger brothers, but the month with two more siblings has been one I will not forget.  I wish I could bring them back to the US to welcome them into my home, before they are grown and start acting like teenage boys.  Dona Marina always says, 'me da risa la Maya,' meaning I make her laugh.  Although sometimes I only understand part of what she is telling me, and I've struggled to comfort her in Spanish when she has begun crying as she told me about her past struggles with her husband, I have found Dona Marina the most welcoming and easy to talk to woman of all that I have met in Peru.

August 4 -
Today, our final day in Lamud, was the Pagua de la Tierra celebration, expressing thanks to Pachamama or mother earth.  Unfortunately, I have managed to stay basically healthy the entire stay in Lamud, yet the very last day my stomach gave way.  I don't know if it was the water or the excessive use of oil in the soup yesterday, or what it was exactly, but I have felt horrible and on the verge all day today.  It was difficult rejecting the drinks and food that I was offered all afternoon, and I had to remove myself from the crowd of Peruvians during lunch, but the ceremony was still beautiful.  The hike up to Vulcon was treacherous; I was drenched in sweat by the end and my stomach churning.  A map of Peruvian bearing seeds and crops from all across the country was laid on the ground and a priest led a service uniting religion with ecology and the land.  I wish I could have been more present today, but what are you gonna do.  I just hope my stomach is feeling better tomorrow morning for the 21 hour bus ride back to Lima.....

Partying with the Peruvians

Friday night was wild - our first Peruvian birthday celebration.  A four course dinner dispersed between bouts of dancing, singing, and other quirky traditions.  All throughout the night, a bottle of beer with its accompanying cup passed between the hands of the guests; each took their turn, first pouring, then passing the bottle, toasting salud, drinking, and shaking what remained onto the floor.  Jaclyn and I both attribute our current sickness and my complete lack of a voice to the ritual.  The food began with some type of milky, sugary, egg-whitey, alcoholicy drink and cookies to compliment Edmundo (the birthday boy)'s toast.  Later were chicken sandwiches and coffee, and for the main course, ensalada russa, potatoes, and some large slabs of meet.  Of course, no party would be complete without the chicha, which was passed around with a shared cup later on.  We did our fair share of dancing, learning typical peruvian steps from the man deemed 'dance teacher' by his friends, circling around Edmundo and his rotating partners, or passing under the arm towers of all the others on the floor.  Jaclyn and I asked Edmundo's 83 year old father for a dance, which he led with an aggressive youthfulness.  We even sang happy birthday in English, during which all the women at the party took turns dancing with the birthday boy, followed by every guest lining up to hug and wish him a feliz cumpleaños.  The scene was at times reminiscent of a middle school dance, with everyone sitting on benches and chairs that lined the walls between dances.  One song would end, everyone would sit, and within two seconds another song (that often sounded exactly like the one before) would start and people would pull each other up to dance again.  The sight of food was always a welcome sign of rest as everyone would return to their spots against the walls and quietly eat.  By the end of the night, the plethera of food and drinks, plus the ridiculous amount of beans I consumed at lunch, had my stomach gurgling to the beats of the music.  Around 2, Doña Marina, Pablo, a sleep-walking Pedro and I made our way back home.  A late night in Lamud.

When it rains

It puts a damper on things.  For one, we can't really work out in the fields.  Two, our few clothes are dampened and a layer of mud is added to everything.  And three, I'm convinced that last night's flea bites (which I have avoided until this point) are a result of the flea wanting to escape the rain.  The sky was overcast all day yesterday, and the rain really started as Jaclyn and I walked back from the arracacha field towards the huerto to retrieve the keys from Dona Marina.  By the time we made it to the huerto, we were soaked.  Dona Marina, Maria Dolores, and Edita had just arrived in time to find cover before the rain.  They found our drenched selves rather funny, which I suppose we were.  We huddled under the small tin roof, safe from the downpour, sharing a laugh and common in our inability to do anything at all.  When Dona Marina realized that she had lost the dog, we ventured out into the streets, which had become small rivers.  Not the best day to wear sandals and socks I guess....

Las Gringitas

Is what Jaclyn and I have become known as here in Lamud.  Whether standing outside Maria's home and hearing a young girl shout gringa to get my attention or an old woman exclaiming gringita as Jaclyn passes her alone, we have grown accustomed to the label.  Jaclyn and I are like a different species here, aliens that most only see through the TV or media.  Most elements of life here I can relate to in some way, however distant, but I cannot imagine what it is like to have someone enter your environment who is so different that their mere presence ignites a round of 'gringas.'  The children are most fascinated by our presence here, or maybe they just express their interest the most.  The two times that Jaclyn and I have sat atop the stairs that overlook the town a different little girl has peered at us the entire time, asking some questions but mainly just observing and staring at these two foreigners in isolated Lamud.  On our trips to Pablo and Pedro's expositions at the school, a flock of children has hoarded around us, wrapping their arms around us and gifting us with their hugs.  Their excitement bubbles with our translations of simple spanish words, and with our pronunciations of their spanish names (which is often exactly the same).  I wonder what they think of us, of why we are here and of our distant identities universes away.

Yesterday, Jaclyn and I walked for almost three hours through the mountains surrounding town, until Lamud and Luya appeared as tiny specks in the distance.  It was a beautiful escape and a nice opportunity to remove ourselves from our normal setting and reflect on the town's existence and our being here.  We met a friendly man, trekking his way to his chacra who told us of Lamud's struggles with the municipality and the lack of support for projects like expanding the highway and distributing water to far-off fields.  He recommended various sites we must visit in the area and wished us a nice rest as he began work on his fava beans.  The other night I spoke with Dona Marina's brother on the phone, learning a bit about his life and how grateful and appreciative he and his family are that Jaclyn and I are simply here, living with them and showing respect for their way of life.  Yesterday in the afternoon, we spent a few hours working in the huerto, mothers, children, fathers, gringas, and all.  We planted about 17 beds of beterraga (beets) to send to Don Raul in the future, to become chips!

Sitting far away from Lamud atop a mountain yesterday made me think, what is the point of all our rushing around and trying to get ahead, with the beautiful, simple existence led by people here?  Yet I am only able to be here and have this opportunity because I am fortunate to travel and to have people in my life who support me.  So the people here may not see their lives and what they have here as a visitor's eyes do.  Does it take an outsider's perspective to recognize the incredibility of the surroundings and the charm and wealth of life here?  Do I only see things this way because this is what I don't have?  I hope that my presence here is able to express my respect for what they do, to show curiousity for their way of life, and to connect two seemingly separate worlds.

Life in Lamud

Time moves slowly here, very slowly.  While I think I would be stir crazy staying here for much longer than a month, the pace is a welcome break - to think, to observe and to rest.  Since I last posted, we have visited Chachapoyas, worked in the fields, made friends with the town, gone on over-ambitious hikes, showered in difficult-to-breath-in water, and started to make this town feel like home.  I have peeled potatoes in preparation for the thursday feria, milled some type of grass to add with water to the garden, and played sunday volleyball against some expert peruvians.  We spent the day today with a man Raul who buys aracacha and beets from the mother's club; we visited some of the plots that have been planted and I enjoyed listening to the group discuss their problems and practical details.  We have conducted a few interviews, and learned about the history and present of the mothers club through small interactions every day, and have begun to identify opportunities and areas where we could lend support.  Saturday was my first Peruvian party, with people from Spain, France, Poland, and who knows where.

What has most captured my attention so far is the issue of immigration.  It seems that just about everyone here has family in Lima, or at least some other major city.  The distribution of age within Lamud lacks balance, with an older generation and many young children but an absent middle age/young group.  I wonder if children are interested in agriculture now, or if most youth dream of fleeing Lamud for the possibilities of the big city.  I really have difficulty imagining that life is better for most in Lima, as the miles after miles of shacks completely covering dangerous mountain sides on the outskirts of the city are an overwhelming sight.  When people leave Lamud, what do they expect to find in Lima?  And I wonder how often their expectations are met.  Lamud is a beautiful town; the people live in incredible natural beauty, have a rich culture and religion, and a strong sense of solidarity.  I wonder what Lamud will look like twenty years from now.  What does development and growth entail for the town?  Maybe it will stay exactly as it is, but most likely not.  Is development inevitable?  It is necessary?  I don't know whether the people would be better off with more industry and a larger economy, or if development at the expense of community and the environment would ruin Lamud.  Lamud is a wonderful place, but yes, many people struggle to meet their basic needs and live in very basic, sometimes dangerous conditions.  Sitting in my home's living room with Pablo and Pedro around the tiny TV that plays two channels, I witness first hand the influence of Western media and the appeal it exerts on two ten year old boys in isolated Lamud.  Places like this offer exciting opportunity though, a chance to build and strengthen the local economies and infrastructure while preserving the elements that make the place unique.  Can we maintain the sense of tranquility while improving education, job opportunities, and technology?  I don't know the answer, and following the typical path of development, it is probably no.  So I hope that Lamud chooses to tread down a new, undiscovered route and that years from now, I can return to bask in the rainy sunshine of a simple Sunday afternoon by the town dairy and play volleyball with a diverse group of individuals gathered to share a bit of their day.

Quick Photo Update

Mi hermano Pedro working in the huerto

Las mujeres working in the plot of the Mother's Club

Viviendo con las Nubes - Living with the Clouds

Is how it felt as the packed van ascended the mountain from Chachapoyas to Lamud. It's beautiful here, surrounded by breathtaking mountains on all sides. After the long bus ride, we arrived in Chachapoyas around 3 in the afternoon on Friday. We were greeted by Maria's mother and sister, and quickly found ourselves sitting in a packed van loaded with our luggage atop and headed for Lamud. In Lamud, I parted ways and left with Dona Marina and her sons Pablo and Pedro who eagerly carried my bag to their home. Through a small blue door we entered the house, which is almost entirely exposed with a small roof over the 'hallway' row of rooms. I really had no clue what to expect, and it's definitely the farthest thing from any place I've ever spent time at before. They moved a bed, which takes up the majority of the space, into a room especially for my visit and I unloaded some of my belongings onto the surfaces which also hold many of theirs. When I met again with Jaclyn later, we both shared a common experience of having sat alone in our rooms thinking, 'whoa, what am i doing here...' This next month will remove me further from my comfort zone than I have ever been before, and my lifestyle will surely be rough, but Marina's house has already begun to feel like my home in Lamud. Friday night we accompanied Maria, Marina, and several others to a town fundraiser where the Club de Madres was selling food to support the municipality. It was a late night, and I didn't end up finally resting until around midnight. I slept soundly, worn out from the travels, save a few wakes from the crows of the roosters. Saturday Maria, Jaclyn, and I walked around Lamud, visiting the Club de Madre's site and the town dairy. We simply sat for a while, taking in our surroundings and sharing each other's company in silent reflection. In the afternoon, Jaclyn and I accompanied Roxana and her American peace corps volunteer, Olga, to these caves outside of Lamud. Roxana had organized the trip to train people who are becoming guides in the city. It was an incredible site, and the group quickly welcomed us as one of their own. The man who led the group encouraged us to take in the site as one of nature's gifts, a piece of art that surrounds us but that many no longer take the time to really see. We returned to Lamud after the sun had set, and I ate dinner with the family and then watched White Chicks on the small TV with the family, before going to bed early. This morning, Marina, the boys, Maria, her mother and sister, Jaclyn and a man Jose took a trip to a mill nearby. The man behind the masterpiece is now 99 and had to move to the town center from his amazing recluse outside of town for health reasons, but one can appreciate his genius from a short visit to the mill. Everything is powered by the flow of the water, from the flour mill to the lights to the saw. Essentially all of the materials have been recycled, and the space is a testimony to the brilliance that can arise from necessity and creative innovation. We walked through the gardens and enjoyed some crisp apples from the many trees on the property. Next, we toured around a new hotel in town, which was incredibly beautiful but rather expensive. I'm really curious who the guests will be.... Finally, we shared a lunch at Marina's house and rested. I had grand plans to take a shower, but Pablo and I couldn't figure out the hot water situation so they were thwarted. Showering doesn't seem to be too big here....but soon one will be needed. Tonight, a reunion has been planned for Jaclyn and I to meet the rest of the Mother's Club. Tomorrow, we plan on leaving around 5 AM to walk the two hours to Maria's family farm...that is Peruvian time though so lets hope its a bit later.... So I am safe and sound in Lamud, adapting to a new place and enjoying the break from the chaos and pollution of Lima. Will try to post again soon! XOXXX

Hasta luego, Lima

Today begins the next step of our adventure! Savannah, Emily and Margaret are gone, off to their homestays in Cusco and Puno.  Jaclyn and I leave for Chachapoyas at 4 this afternoon. I'm guessing that Internet will not be too accessible in Lamud, so this may be my last post for a while.

Yesterday we relaxed, organized and said our goodbyes to the city I was just beginning to know - for now! Margaret, Savannah and I took a trip to an Incan market where I found a baby alpaca sweater to keep me warm during the chilly nights at Maria's. We stopped at a grocery store for propel packets and small shampoo, neither of which I was successful at locating, but oh well. Emily and I later took a walk to Arabica, an espresso bar (unfortunately I decided to let my stomach wait on the caffeine until the exit seminar) and AlmaZen, an organic restaurant with a delicious menu but a bit expensive for a lunch. I ended up eating Malu's scrumptious creation at the hostel with some much needed soup :) Later we searched for Sancho, Nico's dog who disappeared around the beach, to no avail. Stay safe Sancho! For dinner, we tested a vegetarian restaurant and Tete's master pisco sours back at the hostel. At dinner, we learned more about Andean culture and what we may encounter in our homes for the next month. Knock on wood I don't get sick again, but if I do, I may be cured by a cuy (guinea pig) according to traditional medicine. I wonder whether time will fly for the next month or pass slowly, as there are certainly less distractions in a tiny village in the northeast of Peru. Leah talked about how powerful it can be to re-find your balance when placed in a completely new environment, through whatever means brings that sense of equilibrium. So for the next month, I will call a new place home and new people family. It's a place that google knows little about, and that takes a day to reach. I'm both excited and nervous, but will learn by listening, sharing and simply watching. Be back in a month!

Much love,

Maya :)

Tete's Vision

Today we travelled around the city with Tete, an awesome MESA alumni who has started an organization called Cultiva Lima.  Her dream is to transform Lima once again into a beautiful city and to recultivate a sense of ecological balance in the city now characterized by constant construction and cement.  We first visited the Cultural Center of Spain, where Tete and a group of volunteers had planted a small inspiration garden for the community.  The space is not large enough for broad consumption or production, but rather to provide a common space for interaction and learning.  The center also has community film screenings and other activities to unite people across the area.  We also met with a woman who has started a Brazil Nut company called Shiwi and who also works for a protected lands organization.  She shared some of her delicious "granola" with dried mango, chocolate, sacha inchi, and castana.  Next we visited a girl's reformatory that just four years ago was the target of a government initiative to install a garden.  Lots of funding and effort later, the plot is overgrown and void of attention.  Like many projects in Latin America, the group failed to integrate with the school to develop a plan that would actually sustain.  So Tete has been taking slow steps to reclaim the land and work with the community towards an innovative vision for the garden.  Initially, the administration was wary of the girl's involvement with the garden, as many have behavioral problems or past instances of aggression.  Yet, the test model of fruit crates filled with different herbs and vegetables that Tete and a group of volunteers worked on is testimony to the attention the girls have given their projects.  When we return from our homestays in August, we will join with Cultiva Lima and an outside company to clear the land and actually build the garden!  Finally, we stopped at an organic cafe for delicious purple corn and cilantro quinoa tamales, aji, avocado, sprouts, and warm maca nut cocoa shakes.  One more full day in Lima and then off to Lamud for a month! :/ :)

Theater area

Primer huerto urbano del centro de Lima

Wall art

Under the weather

Yesterday, I fell prey to traveller's sickness for the first time.  Not exactly sure what caused it, maybe some sample from the market on Sunday, but I'm still not feeling 100%.  After a lovely barbecue Saturday night with MESA alums, others from the hostel, and two members of the Dartmouth community who Ana connected us with, we visited two markets on Sunday.  I went to bed rather early Sunday night, catching up on some MUCH needed rest.  Today we visited La Casa Blanca, home of Carmen and Ulises; I wish I had been feeling a bit more lively because it was an amazing place.  They have converted their one hectare plot into a beautiful, essentially self-sustaining paradise that attracts visitors from all across the globe.  You would never guess that Ulises is 82 years old, as he works with the energy of a young man.  We shared lunch together, and then headed back to the hostel, where we are all resting now.

Also, here is one picture I was able to upload from my camera - Pedro pouring his peach wine

Some phone photos

From our first night at the hostel - a view of the hammock sitting area

A delicious meal cooked together!

Anita and I sending a greeting to Isabella (I'm looking rather crazy as it wasn't intended for public viewing)

I am still working on uploading some camera photos.....

Beyond the City

Today we returned from a two-night trip to Mala, a valley almost two hours outside Lima.  We left Thursday morning and first stopped at a market in Mala, where Ana - a mesa alumni who participated in two exchanges to the US - has a stand.  Energized with some smoothies from the market, we visited and took off for Yuli's farm nearby.  There, we began by hearing from her father Pedro, the man who struggled as he switched his farm from conventional to organic, but has reached a place of equilibrium.  He tells us that one cannot quantify the value of organic farming - health, harmony, stability for his family.  He is a man filled with wisdom, guided by the traditional teachings of his past combined with modern innovations and technical knowledge.  He hopes to turn the farm into a center of learning and exchange, which it already is, of agronomic and gastronomic knowledge, experiments, and shared interaction.  Pedro has many dreams he tells us, and I hope to return some day to see his vision transformed into substance.  The work that Pedro and his brother, and sometimes the rest of the family, do is unbelievable; I have difficulty imagining most people in the United States working as hard and for as long as they do.  His passion, creativity, and energy were incredible.

After an amazing Pachamancha lunch prepared by Julia, Pedro's wife, we took a much-needed walk.  The lunch was huge, and somehow I ate all of it minus the meat...plus a bit of Savannah's.  We topped the meal off with some of Pedro's peach wine, honey, and apple dessert made by Julia.  We walked to the top of a huge mountain that overlooked the entire valley, the "poor people" on one side and "Asia" - the land-grab area of exclusive beaches that have taken much of the water from agriculture - on the other.  The juxtaposition was stark.  Yet in the midst of such apparent inequality and unfairness, Pedro, Ana, and Tete maintain such optimistic, bright attitudes, able to joke about the differences in way of life surrounding them.  It amazes me that they don't seem bitter or angry; they are constantly laughing, joking, and sharing what they have.  After our walk, we harvested apples and eventually departed from the farm after our goodbyes.

We spent the night at the lovely La Manantial and woke up the next morning for a day of harvesting and preparing for the market on Saturday.  Julia and Yuli brought a delicious lunch of spaghetti, this dried potato, chickpea, fava sauce, some greens, egg, and yucca that we all shared.  A bit more harvesting, relaxing, check ins on our action plans, dinner and sleep.

4 AM wake up for an extremely eventful transport of the crops to La Bioferia in Lima.  After a bit of breakfast at La Bioferia, an organic farmers market, we split up to work at stands.  I worked a goat cheese, yogurt, milk, etc. stand with three women and a man - rather overwhelming at first, but I started to get the hang of it :)  I left with a gift of delicious herbed goat cheese from the woman.  For lunch, a stuffed yucca from this awesome vegan stand and after a bit of looking around, we headed back to the hostel for rest, showers, and dinner prep.  Now, sitting here getting ready for dinner, a webinar, and celebration introduction with MESA alums.

Interesting Observations to think more about ----
the migration to urban areas surrounding Lima
Ana's struggles with establishing her women's cooperative in Mala
the incredible disparity between the farmer's work and their economic success
the people's attitudes on development in Lima
what do people want in terms of progress and growth?
imperialism and its affects on South America, particularly agricultural markets
possibilities for connection between these small communities and the US

Photos soon, I hope! XOXXXX

Welcome to Lima

I'm obviously still getting over some technical difficulties with this whole blog thing....sorry for being so scattered! This is my new blog, as the old one kept acting up with my keyboard. 

Post from July 2, around 8 PM --------

Well I just wrote a post and made sure to save my progress as one of my travel-mates had her two pages disappear earlier, but of course the same happened to me....

So I'll begin again!  Welcome to Lima (:  As I write, I sit in the common area of our hostel, looking up into a cloudy Lima sky illuminated with the lights of the city.  After a treacherous experience with Spirit Airlines yesterday, I finally arrived at the hostel around 2 AM.  Luckily, I easily found Leah once at the airport and she quickly guided us to the hostel.  We had an early start this morning, filled with a delicious hostel breakfast in our stomachs, and headed to the National Agrarian University at La Molina.  Our tour of El Huerto, the organic agriculture department of the university, began with an herb and vegetable seedling house.  We took in not only the Spanish names of the variety of plants, but the pungent smells and tastes as well. Next, we learned from MESA alumni about El Huerto's broccoli and water irrigation operations.  We finished our outdoor exploration by learning about the incredible diversity of chilis at El Huerto and their place in the global "chili scene."  After a presentation from Saray, a professor at the university, we stopped for a quick lunch and headed to spanish lessons until 6.  Then back to the hostel for a short rest, until we left again for dinner.  Savannah, Margaret and I tried an Arabic place (a falafel is the last thing I had expected to eat in Peru, but it was delicious) while the other three stopped at a grocery store.  Video'd with Isabella and my mom, kind of unbelievable, and now I think its just about bed time.....

Goodnight!!

I hope to find a way to upload some photos soon.....