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.....