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?
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