dearest kids, mom & family and friends,
i hope you are all well and enjoying what i hear is a stupendous september! there are moments i wish i was home... life is fast here and there is very little time that is my own and i apologize for being so far behind in journalling about what is becoming a very simple, yet busy life. life with my little boys is completely rewarding .. they are kids.. sometimes good, sometimes bad, sometimes nice and sometimes not so nice. good thing i don´t understand spanish that well .. but i do get when the older ones say in their thick spanish "you are crazeee" and i just smile and laugh..
thank you so much for all of the letters that you have taken the time to write.. it is absolutely the best part of my day when i hear from you.. wish you were here and living a simple life with me.. it is not anything i could have imagined and i am enlightened most days.. before i tell the stories of the day let me continue with the innocent beginnings...
i will pick up where i left off in the last letter i wrote which is now wednesday morning of last week - my second day at the orphanage.
it is wednesday and i awakened early when i heard the doctor rise. my glands are swollen and my throat is sore. our communication skills are clear and before i know it he has retreived a spoon from the drawer and is pressing it on my tongue. nodding in agreement he indicates that he had something for me. i wait in the kitchen while he runs upstairs for moment. back, he hands me a large white pill wrapped in shiny tinfoil.. amoxicillan. then he writes a prescription for me on the back of a scrap of notepaper and hands it to me... feeling better already, i go back to bed for a few more hours sleep....
after my second spanish lesson, i head to the orphanage the route is the same, the people are the same. there is the same old lady with long braids tied together at the bottom.. her skirt is at her knees and her sweater is old.. on her back is something resembling a bail of hay rolled into a tidy bundle.. vendors have their spaces, dogs are tired on the sidewalks, mothers and babies huddle into corners, nursing, comforting and resting with their wares. i am charmed by the ladies their carts of fruit, babies on their backs and toddlers playing at arms length and sometimes farther.... like yesterday and any day ahead this will be the story...
inside at the ophanage i see that gavin has one little guy painting and i hear the game they have invented. i smile remembering a time when we painted together.. eh logan? thank you honey. it is way more fun with two. not being part of the great painting event i have my own mission today.. fingernails!
little ones greet me and already the staff have left me on my own not inquisitive of my arrival or what i might be doing with the boys. they are quiet in their offices and occasionally a man that never smiles patrols the middle walkway of the courtyard. i don't give them much more of a thought collecting my little ones and taking one in tow to their version of a washroom that none of us would ever use.
it is dirty with rough, yellow, plastered walls. there is a screened window mounted near the ceiling and a corner shower beside the toilet that has no walls.. the whole room is dark and the sink in layered in old soap spatters. there is a light and it is dim.
the little guy and i walk hand in hand into the washroom. at the sink i pull out the little brush and slather it across the bar of soap that sits in a soap dish rimming with old grey lather, wet my hands and begin to scrub my nails.. the little guy watches . he is about a foot taller that the sink.. then i take his little hand, slather it with soap, rub and squeeeze and love it up, in between those little fingers and around those tiny worn out nails. then i take that soft brush and give a swish across the fingers that so trustingly have been put into my care. hmmmm... not cleaning up very well.. i hand over the brush to the little guy and intently focused he begins to work away at his tiny nails.. we rinse and scrub some more examining in between the degrees of success in our work.. then when no amount of scrubbing can do any better we rinse, dry off with the only existing dirty towel, and head out to the sunshine to clip and trim..
he loves it and fascinated we work away at one hand and then the next. his fingers are small and their tips worn out from outside play and work...carefully the ragged edges are trimmed away and tiny cuticles are gently pushed back.. he pulls himself away and i show him the beautiful moons on his fingers... he becomes ok with the whole proceedure and i show him the big clippers for his toes.. theses are another story... tough with time his feet are ages old.. swollen and thick there is no way any amount of soaking can repair or make nearly new this skin.. i take that little dirty foot and try to make some clean straight ... but impossible cuts across these toes... and then i hand over the clippers to move on to another little kid and then another. it is the event of the day and i work away at as many little ones as i can. they are all delighted and some unwilling to give up the nail brush until at least the tips of their fingers are spotless. others scrub away at skin too thick and dirty from hard life but seem delighted with the feeling of a soft brush...
it is all good. so simple.. and so happy. there are some very hard workers here and very clearly some perfectionists. these little boys will grow..
then, once around with the majority i go to the locker room. it is beside the study, with a part open wall between them some ten or so feet high. the lockers are a dirty cadmium yellow.. like sunflowers.. with some stickers and names embedded into parts of doors..each boy has a locker and i have been told that these need to be neat and tidy.. new clothes from the laundry lines that hang on a small pod of grass between the kitchen and eating quarters have arrived and three boys.. have sorted out their clothes from the pile... which is which seems very clear and there is no argument over items. they are doing a version of folding and so, working on the floor, i pull a t-shirt out of the pile... i do the simple fold ... put flat , fold in half , fold the sleeves in and fold in half for the little ones and then i show them, little and big boys, the speedy fold...... hold it in the air, whip in the sleeves, fold it in half and straighten out the collar so it looks perfecto! they like this game... and figure out an easier way to put it on the floor , fold each side in and tuck in the sleeves, then fold it in half and fix the collar. we go from this to arranging pants on one shelf, shirts and t´s on another and warm tops on another... the top shelf is for treasures... special things .. these little guys have none... but i have seen it on the shelves of the older boys... and pretty soon three of the lockers are in a nice organized state of affairs.. nice.
the day passes... a little bit of learning and little bit of happiness.. and of course, a little bit of clean.
i take a taxi home to rice, potatoes in some creamy sauce with little bits of some version of meat, flat white rolls and a pudding.. it is unusual but i eat it.. manners are extremely important..
i have a nasty dripping cold today and am whipped.. so i hit the hay.
hoping you are all happy and well with great projects and good things coming up in your lives.. again thank you for your letters. they are a wonderful lift. enjoy the sunshine for me and breathe that wonderful canadian air. everybody seems to love Canada. me too!
bless you and all my love,
mom.. me, deb...
Monday, September 21, 2009
with love from peru. growing time & spectacular moments. Sept 18.
to my dearest kids,family and friends,
mornings up here and the house is still asleep. last night i sent some pics and meant to send you this one. this little guy, that we call chico, has become attached at my hip.. . he is 7 or 8 i would guess, because he reads like a trooper although he looks more like 5 from his size. he is little so easy to wrap around my hip and loves to sing and do everything that's going on.. he learned inky pinky spider in an instant and approaches me most times singing it. his little face will cheer you! and if you held him in your arms you would be busting!
other pictures were: the orphanage doors; me hugging Jean Pierre, my guide; me capturing another little guy for a picture (not sure of his name yet); &the welcome sign under the bridge on the walk to the orphanage.
todays pics are of:little happy guy Chico;Guiado with the boat he made; an old lady fast asleep at San Padro market; the swings, taken by a little guy that loves the camera; and a taxi driver in full smile.
have some fun guys. today i am going with the maintenance senor and buying some paint so the boys can paint the walls and lockers and in the end know how to.
all my love, mom aka me..
mornings up here and the house is still asleep. last night i sent some pics and meant to send you this one. this little guy, that we call chico, has become attached at my hip.. . he is 7 or 8 i would guess, because he reads like a trooper although he looks more like 5 from his size. he is little so easy to wrap around my hip and loves to sing and do everything that's going on.. he learned inky pinky spider in an instant and approaches me most times singing it. his little face will cheer you! and if you held him in your arms you would be busting!
other pictures were: the orphanage doors; me hugging Jean Pierre, my guide; me capturing another little guy for a picture (not sure of his name yet); &the welcome sign under the bridge on the walk to the orphanage.
todays pics are of:little happy guy Chico;Guiado with the boat he made; an old lady fast asleep at San Padro market; the swings, taken by a little guy that loves the camera; and a taxi driver in full smile.
have some fun guys. today i am going with the maintenance senor and buying some paint so the boys can paint the walls and lockers and in the end know how to.
all my love, mom aka me..
love from peru. pictures mostly of my boys. Sept 17
it is wednesday morning and a full week has passed with my little boys.. days remain quite the same.. the colours come up over the mountains, the dogs bark, a few cars whiz through the streets.. probably taxis .. here everybody thinks they are taxi drivers. i am usually the first one up and i sneak as quietly out of my room as i can to not awaken my two little night hawk friends who love the night life here.. it has become quite like a university room now, with clothes and open suitcases lying about.. there are closets but they are blocked off with beds and fairly impossible to get to especially at 5:45 am which has become my usual rising time. that is 6:45 at home.
i have grown accustom to the shower, have the hot water figured out and have shopped for toilet seats which they do not sell separately here.. hence the supreme lack of them everywhere! days have become fairly routine with the repeated menu of yogurt, flat buns, some version of sugared cereal, a tang like drink which i have learned is inca cola.. fruit and of course the fried egg and instant coffee. left overs from breakfast become the bagged lunch for those of us interested and i take a flat bun and fruit everyday thus far which is a far cry from toasted tomato sandwiches or cottage cheese and apple with a little crust and peanut butter.
my days begin with spanish classes...beginners.. which are from 8am til 10am. so far i am fairly overwhelmed with the language.. people speak very fast and it is hard to hear it as anything but one long word.. but i am muddling along and yesterday i got a tandom which is a spanish speaking person that you spend time with, which should help. this is set up so that you spend one half hour helping with english and one half hour speaking spanish. my helper, is a lovely girl,Mitsy, probably 18 or so. she is beautiful and hip and speaks english much better than i speak spanish and we had some good laughs as she compared the character of dogs to men.... it was pretty funny.. i'm not really sure what she meant.
the spanish class is small. last week there were about 12 and this week 7 and the teacher is a very good one. good like you mom.. so i am not worried about making a mistake.. and i make lots.
after class real living begins and everyday thus far has been , i will call it .. growing time with spectacular moments in time at the orphanage.
i begin with a week ago tuesday which was my first real full day....class ends and i have decided to start early with the boys rather than beginning at 2 as arranged.. so i leave maximo, the office, and walk up avenito del sol past the stalls selling icecream, and tours and typical peruvian ponchos and bags.. the street vendors are out with their packaged treats and drinks and there is a tired old man who sits on the steps where i turn with outstretched hands. he enters my mind and exits as quickly.. ahead are more carts with people selling goods, my knapsack is heavy and i wear it on my front.. probably attracting more attention than less.. on my left i pass a wall of newspaper and magazines and several tiny restaurants whose menu boards announce the daily specials... meals cost almost nothing in these places (1,50-3 sols - about a dollar) where i have been told never to eat .. but i will, with care,at some point because it is part of what you have to do if you are here. i pass the landmarks that i remember.. the road in repair, the grocery store, the wide corner before the bridge with streets verging in five directions, flanked by brimming covered carts high with fruit parted right in the midst of it all.. crazy.. i race across the streets , the game i have become used to since cars have the right of way here, and you just wait for a moment in between them to get across.. on streets like this one..i wait to take someones lead just to feel safe.
i cross over the bridge which means i am almost there and bustle along uphill til i get to the gigantic rust doors that speak for themselves. it is my first day.. i am hours early..it is about 11 in the morning...the buzzer is high to the left on the side of the doorframe and i reach to push it.. there is one clean spot worn by other fingers and dirt from hands over the years covers the plaster.
finally a man comes to the door .. and i see him through a small barred window about eight inches square. once inside i go up the steps and through two more giganitic doors where i am set free.. gavin, the army guy from england, is on the early morning shift and walks over to me and tells me to go inside and speak to Janet, the director of the orphanage. i go into her office and face a huge desk with a worn velvet couch for guests. she seems delighted that i am there and tells me they need so much help.. i am assigned a little helper.. jean pierre.. he is a soft spoken boy about thirteen and he is to take me around the place and be my amigo. he is perfect.. just taller than my shoulder, with white teeth between a warm smile. his hair is a bit long and his nature appealing.. i like him.. he has questions in his eyes and searches to understand my english repeating my words and motioning with his hands.
i stay in the main square with him and shortly others gather. there are older boys here ,up to eighteen but none at the moment for they are in school.. only a few boys ages 5 to 12 are here and i wonder why they aren´t in school too. new eyes at this place, i study them.. their faces are clean except for ongoing dripping noses that long for kleenx which doesn´t exist.. their hair is cut and tidy.. their skin is dry and cracked from the sun, some with sun spots and looking ages older than they possibly could be.. their hands are rough and dirty with torn and battered chunks of skin around their nails .. their feet are worse. worn out from birth, calloused and thick, misshapen and dirty.. .. those are the feet i see in sandals that are mostly too small.... made of rubber.. on a brighter side though.. their clothes although old don´t smell of filth, but are just dirty from a day making play out of nothing.. and they are eager to hold hands and sit close to me. there are no toys, and i wonder what they do all day.. just books and that wonderful ping pong table which teases great fun.. ..
some boys gather as i look at the little budgie bird .. i forget his name.. the bird, lives in a cage with a birdhouse inside that the boys have made in their workshop which looks kind of like Dad´s.. but with more lumber and less tools... and the boys poke and prod it tempting it with sticks and fingers.. i am at the far end of the courtyard now, and i pull out some cards for a game, which are quickly absconded...
trying to get a feel of the place i ask about music and learn their is a piano that has been donated and is in the dining room. a little boy runs and gets the keys.. all doors to everywhere off the cement inside walkways are locked except the washroom, changeroom and study.. oh yes, and the carpentry room when the great old carpenter is there... so we have the keys and in we go. the piano is beautiful. it is an upright, pretty sparkling black and it has been covered in two layers of blankets for protection.. no guitar yet i figure i might as well cord.. so i go and sit down and begin to sing, oh i can´t remember right now, but something like old macdonald and the 4 or so kids that have gathered, and speak no english but understand a little stare at me as i bolt out the song with no care about what anybody thinks.. then one of the boys insists that we open the bench that i am sitting on and inside are sheets of music that only aunt jo or bach could play.. .. very funny kids..
i tell them i can´t play them but make the effort of putting it on the piano thinking maybe élvis, one of the boys, can.. no.
now the wheels are turning and i am thinking that the boys need instruments and then we can all have some fun and this could be worthwhile . so this is a thought.
it seems some of the boys have their own ping pong paddles and balls so this is next on the agenda... i use my dictionary as a paddle and it doesn´t help my game. ha. it is good fun though and the cement wall worked in our favor.
on to new things... i wander into the study room. it is turquoise and brown with at least 15 foot high ceilings and a smelly tan rug that reeks of urine. with several boys in tow we head to the bookcase and they eagerly rummage through the books to pull what must be their favorite.. a book on Peru.. anyway we muddle through some of it, piled together in a little heap on the smelly carpet.. there are four boys.. three little ones and one a little older .. it is hard to tell their ages... so story told, i start to sing.. at this point three are sprawled around my legs.. heads tucked on some part of me and i am trying to think of all the songs that we could sing.. i start to sing frere jacques which is a hit and they sing it with me in spanish.. so i copy them and they copy me... they sing another spanish song to me and i listen.. they are confident and comfortable with me and so i start on the repetoire that you kids were raised on.. Lady Bug... the boys now have their eyes closed, one more has joined squeezed onto my legs amid the other heads, and when i stop singing one little one says ¨cantar¨which i take as an encouragement to keep going... ok.. my mind is whipping through songs... Que sera.. well, i start singing this one and my heart falls apart.. i can´t even get through the first line.. and i have tears rolling down my cheeks... and i absolutely cannot sing.. so i say outloud.. ´´ no, i can´t do this one´¨and a little boy gets up and wraps his arms around me as if he can somehow make it better. and he did.
in the middle of the afternoon a whole new bunch of boys, old and young, all uniformed up in worn grey flannels, black leather boots and white shirts with ties, come barrelling into the courtyard. they are not pressed or ironed but have the appearance of tidiness that uniforms portray. crumbly buns in plastic bags are handed out for snacks and are tucked under sweaters for safe keeping... as quickly as they arrive, the big boys disappear except for the little ones who are interested in a few new faces... time for studies and some of them retreat to the tables in the room with the smelly rug.
the end of a day here.. i gather my packsak and the doorman takes his keys and inserts them into the heavy brass lock that allows no one to come or go without permission. stepping over the threshhold i breathe in the air of an as tired street and i raise my hand for a taxi. dusk settles and before i get home i am ready for bed.
it was a glorious day.. in every moment.
it is late on thursday nite now and i am just home from an evening watching local dance with the little boys who left early with Horhay.. the psycologist.. there was a little guy who crawled over to sit with me and held my hand for most of the time.. for this i say thankyou.
so good nite guys. i love you and i miss you including my tugs and kitties. thank you for your wonderful letters and know that i am thinking of you too. tonight is probably the loneliest night . i have been here for two weeks and am wondering how three months will go and what it will bring. sleep well. be happy and breathe in the fall days for me. i miss you. love mom aka me...
hhuuugggsssssssssssssssss and kiisssessssssssssss
i have grown accustom to the shower, have the hot water figured out and have shopped for toilet seats which they do not sell separately here.. hence the supreme lack of them everywhere! days have become fairly routine with the repeated menu of yogurt, flat buns, some version of sugared cereal, a tang like drink which i have learned is inca cola.. fruit and of course the fried egg and instant coffee. left overs from breakfast become the bagged lunch for those of us interested and i take a flat bun and fruit everyday thus far which is a far cry from toasted tomato sandwiches or cottage cheese and apple with a little crust and peanut butter.
my days begin with spanish classes...beginners.. which are from 8am til 10am. so far i am fairly overwhelmed with the language.. people speak very fast and it is hard to hear it as anything but one long word.. but i am muddling along and yesterday i got a tandom which is a spanish speaking person that you spend time with, which should help. this is set up so that you spend one half hour helping with english and one half hour speaking spanish. my helper, is a lovely girl,Mitsy, probably 18 or so. she is beautiful and hip and speaks english much better than i speak spanish and we had some good laughs as she compared the character of dogs to men.... it was pretty funny.. i'm not really sure what she meant.
the spanish class is small. last week there were about 12 and this week 7 and the teacher is a very good one. good like you mom.. so i am not worried about making a mistake.. and i make lots.
after class real living begins and everyday thus far has been , i will call it .. growing time with spectacular moments in time at the orphanage.
i begin with a week ago tuesday which was my first real full day....class ends and i have decided to start early with the boys rather than beginning at 2 as arranged.. so i leave maximo, the office, and walk up avenito del sol past the stalls selling icecream, and tours and typical peruvian ponchos and bags.. the street vendors are out with their packaged treats and drinks and there is a tired old man who sits on the steps where i turn with outstretched hands. he enters my mind and exits as quickly.. ahead are more carts with people selling goods, my knapsack is heavy and i wear it on my front.. probably attracting more attention than less.. on my left i pass a wall of newspaper and magazines and several tiny restaurants whose menu boards announce the daily specials... meals cost almost nothing in these places (1,50-3 sols - about a dollar) where i have been told never to eat .. but i will, with care,at some point because it is part of what you have to do if you are here. i pass the landmarks that i remember.. the road in repair, the grocery store, the wide corner before the bridge with streets verging in five directions, flanked by brimming covered carts high with fruit parted right in the midst of it all.. crazy.. i race across the streets , the game i have become used to since cars have the right of way here, and you just wait for a moment in between them to get across.. on streets like this one..i wait to take someones lead just to feel safe.
i cross over the bridge which means i am almost there and bustle along uphill til i get to the gigantic rust doors that speak for themselves. it is my first day.. i am hours early..it is about 11 in the morning...the buzzer is high to the left on the side of the doorframe and i reach to push it.. there is one clean spot worn by other fingers and dirt from hands over the years covers the plaster.
finally a man comes to the door .. and i see him through a small barred window about eight inches square. once inside i go up the steps and through two more giganitic doors where i am set free.. gavin, the army guy from england, is on the early morning shift and walks over to me and tells me to go inside and speak to Janet, the director of the orphanage. i go into her office and face a huge desk with a worn velvet couch for guests. she seems delighted that i am there and tells me they need so much help.. i am assigned a little helper.. jean pierre.. he is a soft spoken boy about thirteen and he is to take me around the place and be my amigo. he is perfect.. just taller than my shoulder, with white teeth between a warm smile. his hair is a bit long and his nature appealing.. i like him.. he has questions in his eyes and searches to understand my english repeating my words and motioning with his hands.
i stay in the main square with him and shortly others gather. there are older boys here ,up to eighteen but none at the moment for they are in school.. only a few boys ages 5 to 12 are here and i wonder why they aren´t in school too. new eyes at this place, i study them.. their faces are clean except for ongoing dripping noses that long for kleenx which doesn´t exist.. their hair is cut and tidy.. their skin is dry and cracked from the sun, some with sun spots and looking ages older than they possibly could be.. their hands are rough and dirty with torn and battered chunks of skin around their nails .. their feet are worse. worn out from birth, calloused and thick, misshapen and dirty.. .. those are the feet i see in sandals that are mostly too small.... made of rubber.. on a brighter side though.. their clothes although old don´t smell of filth, but are just dirty from a day making play out of nothing.. and they are eager to hold hands and sit close to me. there are no toys, and i wonder what they do all day.. just books and that wonderful ping pong table which teases great fun.. ..
some boys gather as i look at the little budgie bird .. i forget his name.. the bird, lives in a cage with a birdhouse inside that the boys have made in their workshop which looks kind of like Dad´s.. but with more lumber and less tools... and the boys poke and prod it tempting it with sticks and fingers.. i am at the far end of the courtyard now, and i pull out some cards for a game, which are quickly absconded...
trying to get a feel of the place i ask about music and learn their is a piano that has been donated and is in the dining room. a little boy runs and gets the keys.. all doors to everywhere off the cement inside walkways are locked except the washroom, changeroom and study.. oh yes, and the carpentry room when the great old carpenter is there... so we have the keys and in we go. the piano is beautiful. it is an upright, pretty sparkling black and it has been covered in two layers of blankets for protection.. no guitar yet i figure i might as well cord.. so i go and sit down and begin to sing, oh i can´t remember right now, but something like old macdonald and the 4 or so kids that have gathered, and speak no english but understand a little stare at me as i bolt out the song with no care about what anybody thinks.. then one of the boys insists that we open the bench that i am sitting on and inside are sheets of music that only aunt jo or bach could play.. .. very funny kids..
i tell them i can´t play them but make the effort of putting it on the piano thinking maybe élvis, one of the boys, can.. no.
now the wheels are turning and i am thinking that the boys need instruments and then we can all have some fun and this could be worthwhile . so this is a thought.
it seems some of the boys have their own ping pong paddles and balls so this is next on the agenda... i use my dictionary as a paddle and it doesn´t help my game. ha. it is good fun though and the cement wall worked in our favor.
on to new things... i wander into the study room. it is turquoise and brown with at least 15 foot high ceilings and a smelly tan rug that reeks of urine. with several boys in tow we head to the bookcase and they eagerly rummage through the books to pull what must be their favorite.. a book on Peru.. anyway we muddle through some of it, piled together in a little heap on the smelly carpet.. there are four boys.. three little ones and one a little older .. it is hard to tell their ages... so story told, i start to sing.. at this point three are sprawled around my legs.. heads tucked on some part of me and i am trying to think of all the songs that we could sing.. i start to sing frere jacques which is a hit and they sing it with me in spanish.. so i copy them and they copy me... they sing another spanish song to me and i listen.. they are confident and comfortable with me and so i start on the repetoire that you kids were raised on.. Lady Bug... the boys now have their eyes closed, one more has joined squeezed onto my legs amid the other heads, and when i stop singing one little one says ¨cantar¨which i take as an encouragement to keep going... ok.. my mind is whipping through songs... Que sera.. well, i start singing this one and my heart falls apart.. i can´t even get through the first line.. and i have tears rolling down my cheeks... and i absolutely cannot sing.. so i say outloud.. ´´ no, i can´t do this one´¨and a little boy gets up and wraps his arms around me as if he can somehow make it better. and he did.
in the middle of the afternoon a whole new bunch of boys, old and young, all uniformed up in worn grey flannels, black leather boots and white shirts with ties, come barrelling into the courtyard. they are not pressed or ironed but have the appearance of tidiness that uniforms portray. crumbly buns in plastic bags are handed out for snacks and are tucked under sweaters for safe keeping... as quickly as they arrive, the big boys disappear except for the little ones who are interested in a few new faces... time for studies and some of them retreat to the tables in the room with the smelly rug.
the end of a day here.. i gather my packsak and the doorman takes his keys and inserts them into the heavy brass lock that allows no one to come or go without permission. stepping over the threshhold i breathe in the air of an as tired street and i raise my hand for a taxi. dusk settles and before i get home i am ready for bed.
it was a glorious day.. in every moment.
it is late on thursday nite now and i am just home from an evening watching local dance with the little boys who left early with Horhay.. the psycologist.. there was a little guy who crawled over to sit with me and held my hand for most of the time.. for this i say thankyou.
so good nite guys. i love you and i miss you including my tugs and kitties. thank you for your wonderful letters and know that i am thinking of you too. tonight is probably the loneliest night . i have been here for two weeks and am wondering how three months will go and what it will bring. sleep well. be happy and breathe in the fall days for me. i miss you. love mom aka me...
hhuuugggsssssssssssssssss and kiisssessssssssssss
Sunday, September 13, 2009
love from Peru in reality
my dearest kids, family and friends,
many days have past since i have written and i have been whittling away at this letter since wednesday. the birds got me up this morning early and it is almost 6.. which is 7 at home. my roomies are fast asleep so i have moved my writing space to the living room because the start up sounds of this computer would probably awaken them... maybe not. i am still fighting a nasty cold... those little runts are full of runny noses and they are all over me and in my arms... and my glands which got swollen wednesday have been doctored up by the doctor in the house.. diagnosed with a spoon on my tongue.. anyway i am on the mend in that department and would get better if life slowed down a notch.. but i why would i let it?
so i will take you back to last sunday and it begins like this...
.it is sunday and i have missed church. one last day til work and the buzz of new house guests is the news of breakfast. seems breakfast is the same every morning and i am fine with this. we make a plan for the day.. to go to lunch in the square, enjoy the festival of tourists and finish sarah's shopping... (sarah is the fabulous spanish speaking girl from california)... the idea of filling those three extra twin beds in my room is beginning to register.. that's a lot of people in one room! it's been awhile since i've shared a room and i kind of like the idea for now,having had a few nights alone in a foreign place... but i wonder for how long...hmmmm. sortof like being in university.. their arrival is anticipated by all of us. finally, my two new bunk mates, laura a busting, confident, curly haired woman about 22, who doesn't say hello but zooms upstairs to crash, and Jacqueline .. a soft lovely girl with a sweetness about her much like our jenny... also about 22, who jumps into the conversation and is ready to take on the city.
we all head out on a combi, the name of the volkswagen type bus, that fits upwards of 20 not 15 as i mentioned earlier. so you have a true picture of this vehicle.. firstly the bus is in shambles.. beat up, with vinyl seats that have been picked at and worn. it is quite dirty not with garbage just needing a good scrubdown and attention..sometimes the buses have names , cant' think of one right now, oh yeah, "Batman" was the one we were on ...and like taxis are quite personalized..with fringed velvet runners with tassels that cover the dash and letters across the front window that says their name senor...there are dozens of buses and i still have no idea which one to take anywhere .. thinking the Santa Ana goes past the office.. anyway we go to the square and the gang decide that they would like to eat,, get this meg and kate, yup you guessed it, guinea pig called cuy... not interesed but going along with them we walk up and down cobbled streets with sidewalks of another stone and buildings that have stones part way up the sides and white plaster walls that seem to go on forever broken with odd entry ways with old doors which have captured my attention way more than any quest for a restaurant.. .. everyone except me is eager to find a place that serves says it serves this Peruvian delicacy... no..no ...no .. thank goodness we only found a very restaurent where the main entrees were 55 sol or so, (divide by 3 so 18 or so US dollars) and so they passed.. meg and kate you don't need to read this part. when they serve the cuy, which in some places you can pick the one you want. aahhh! they roast it and it is served whole. that is completely - like you can imagine... head, ears with carrots sticking out of them, and feet .. oh my! they fill the tummy part (why am i telling you this?) with a mixture that sounds like cooweeyeno.. don't know what that really is yet.
we grab a bite to eat, enchaladas, and with new girls in tow, we walk to San Pablos market on the other side of the square to discover another market...this is a place in cusco that is safe in the day but not where you would ever go at night.
it is a covered market , as they have all been , and before entering i imagine it to be the same as all the others i have been to..notso.. at the door there are three options,... you can go right, straight or left ,sticking together for the time being we turn down a dark aisle heavily laden on both sides with festive wares of woven bags, neatly stacked alpaca sweaters, in stalls that are about 6 feet by10. tight in corners worn bodies are nesting, some eating, some watching tv! and some fast asleep. at the sight of us..that we have paused, glanced inside to see if there is anything different and see who is tucked in the corner.. they invite with eagerness that we stay longer, often picking up something to show us and jumping to another item when we shake our heads or say as politely as refusals can be 'no gracias'. this is accepted with equal politeness and i walk slowly from stall to stall looking at the same sweaters and patterns, purses and scarves, belts and beautifully knitted hats, that i have seen in every market and street side vender since i arrived . i am meandering and becoming aware of the dense sickening smell of meat and the open food market that is ahead...oohhhh! and on the tables ahead of me whole chickens,slabs of beef and full heads of pigs grab my attention..... it is awful to look at and even worse to inhale.... choosing a new focus i notice tucked into spaces at hip level are small worn out vendors, old ladies in layers of earth coloured aprons bent over bowls scooping eagerly spoonfuls of sloppy lunch. i switch into fast walk and sarah and i hurry past the meat section of the market and into a fast gear and this market loses our interest.
outside a little boy, about four is crying. in both hands he holds what appears to be popsicles and he seems to belong to a family on the bench in front of him..about 5 feet away. i react.. wanting to rush over and cheer him with a candy i have in my bag.... but one of the girls remarks... they are trained to draw attention to lure tourists and get money.. i am shocked.. just then the man on the bench shoes the boy away and he rushes into the market..apparently not belonging to them afer all.
my eyes begin to open. his mother must be in the market.. i hope his mother is in the market. we begin to walk home, down avenito del sol, to a less stinky market and then home..
In the house , more volunteers have arrived.. two men, michael a man about 70 from New Zealand who suffers from sleep apnia and Gavin , a former army guy , 49 from England. very interesting crew. .. sarah and her sister are here for one more week, and chris for another two, and they are simply great kids. not sure what will happen when the vibrant trio leaves, for there is such great conversation and laughter at dinner that i find it impossible to leave the table... they are on the building project in a rural school of about 100 children with three teachers..whew!! the kitchen is at the point of putting in windows and they are layering cement over split bamboo, braced with a board used as a level and for everything else..at the moment they are having a time getting the layers of cement to stick. on top of this, the children are forever poking and prodding their accomplishments and demanding attention. sounds right up my alley.
at this point i still have no idea where i will be working and know nothing about what i will be doing except that from the sounds of things volunteers only work 3 or 4 hours a day!!! sarah, chris and amandas' building project is just that.. is about 4 hours a day plus travel back and forth to the school.
so monday morning begins and i am excited at the revelation of mystery.. hoping for babies as i have just been dazzled by them these past three days as they are tucked onto the backs of mommies, under tables and into corners everywhere.i have been wandering around the city and its centre.... feels like ages and am getting used to the routine here at Nadia´s as well as the temperatures .. the shower and the toilet.. the food , well not quite.. feeling acdc today and trying to find some way back to zone food... the yogurt comes in a bottle that looks like a plastic coke bottle and it is very liquid but yummy. nadia always serves a fried !!!egg and i eat it along with a hard flat bun, usually hollow in the middle . i make instant coffee ..there is a carafe of hot water on the stand all day and evening.. and i bypass the juice.. i peel an apple and chat a minute with the team who are off to build a kitchen, and the newbies. we make a plan to walk to the office about 10:00 for orientation which begins at noon at the office of Maximo Nivel .
anxious to figure out how long it takes to walk to the office we head out on foot. the traffic is wild. little cars and taxis, legal (has checkerboards on sides) or illegal, cramming into lanes that become three wiggly cars wide jammed bumper to bumper pretty much for the entire eye´s view..it is a wicked caos to observe.. and when inside one wonders how side mirrors aren´t torn off for cars are just inches from each other.
we begin our walk leaving a quiet neighbourhood about four small blocks from Avenita de Cultura, which is a long road that leads almost into Avenita del sol and to the office..the air is not noticably thin, the temperature is almost warm enough for short sleeves, not hot but just right and my heart is light...even though i am not feeling 100% my anticipation in the day takes my mind away from myself.. anyway, with no real concept of distance we finish four small blocks.. then check out the traffic.. which is rather unbelievable . i am beginning to notice the air, not the thinness but the pollution......... this is unreal. the air is thick with exhaust fumes... and their is no excaping it. i have just begun the walk and my throat is coated with fumes and it just makes me sick. the idea of clean mountain air disappears and i wish i had a face mask. we pass construction and demolition.. a man with a sledge hammer pounds at a cement floor , wall already demolished and i can see the effort in this job.. we walk.. not so much little shops as gas stations and boarded up buildings until we reach the area where the university is and it is better.. buildings and sidewalks are cleaner .. at least completed .. and there is a bustle that is not unlike any campus.. i am anxious to get off this street... the air is sickening.. the mountains are beautiful and the sun is warm.. but it is impossible to enjoy this. we take a side street to get off the main drag and then more happily walk to ave.del sol and the office. about 45 minutes. and happy to be there i have some coco tea because they say it fixes everything.
all i want to know in the presentation is where i am working... and i learn i am going to be in a boys orphanage... i am disappointed for a few minutes because i so wanted to be with the babies... but then i switch my thinking and decide these kids need a mommy figure and i am good at that. the visit to the orphanage is scheduled for 5pm .. here we get the details.. i am to work in the afternoon and have morning spanish classes from 8 to 10 work being get this 3 hours!!! no flipping way .. so i see if i can piggyback two projects in and they seem open to discuss this or i can just work more hours .. perfect.
.
the orphanage is about a fifteen minute walk from the office. Ryan, a director, walks with us , around the corner and up a few steps to the road that leads to.......... tired, dirty shops line the area closest to the avenue del sol and behind partly closed doors and high walls old cars lined side to side settle from years of sitting.. there are old bikes with carriers butting into sidewalks, and old, young women and all women in between carry babies on their backs beside carts selling packaged treats and drinks..we pass a road that has been torn up with all the wonderful old rocks which typically cover the streets removed and baracaded.. further down, after dodging traffic and racing cabs, we get to a corner where a bridge crosses into santiago , a neighbourhood unlike anything i have seen yet.... nice though there are carts full of fruit all around this corner and that part feels healthy.. the air is cleaner but the shops are poorer. even the colours speak poverty and all of a sudden the true cusco becomes clear.. true colours... just up the hill is the orphanage . it is pale yellow and its walls stretch high above the street.. enormous doors in thick patterned wood and a high dirty doorbell greet us...
the door opens and we are greeted by a man with black hair and a gracious smile. his name is hario and he is the staff psycologist. he takes us up to his office and being entirely spanish speaking talks back and forth with ryan, to figure out our schedule.. judy, gavin and i are at this meeting. so it gets organized.. i will be on afternoon shift. 3-6 officially then 2-6.. with a little play... that works for me.
imageine a huge rectangular court.. with covered sidewalks around its' perimeter that is just wide enough for a pingpong table , which they have. on the inside which has sections of grass divided into four with a cross shaped sidewalk and central statue, sectioned off with low walls. there are bright yellow cement benches that line the sidewalks and two big trees, a swing set with chained hand rings, a bar, and wooden seat all mostly wrapped around the frame. in the grassed areas which is worn out and tired like the staff, that have appeared to see what we are about, has rose bushes that are straggly and uncared for in cut out circles that go all around the edges inside and out of the grass. there are also big beds of other flowers but they are more like stems.. so it must not be the season for them to bloom yet.. to sum it up the whole place needs a little love.
there are rooms on everyside of the rectangle and we begin the tour upstairs to their sleeping quarters. it is like the movie 'cider house rules'. little beds line the walls..about twelve per room and there is an adjoining open door that leads to a second room... there are thirty seven boys in this place and these are the little boys rooms. at least the blankets are colourful.. the ceilings are about 15 feet high and there are no pictures that i can remember, but probably a cross or the Virgin Mary is somewhere.
downstairs we walk down the corridor to see the study..tables with chairs piled upside down form a 'u' shape and at the end the wall is full of books about 5 feet across. there is a smell of urine here and the rug is dirty..everything needs paint but i imagine there is more this place needs than this... we see the change room.. three sections of marigold painted lockers , all needing dad, missing handles and coming apart, divide the room into two sections. behind the middle row old mattresses are stacked under a top bunk with just enough room for a little kid to hide. it is pretty awful.
we are shown the washroom.. one shower and toilet, sink with no toilet paper, a room especially for pens and guinea pigs (not sure if they eat them) , an unfinished project that is a chicken coup with no chickens, and then we are walked through a door to the kitchen..ok.. and the dining room ..quite nice (treasure island) and to a section of outside space where the laundry hangs. there is a shoeshine room, a carpentry room - a mess but with old great equipment.. a planer, a big table with a rip saw and a lathe. corners are stacked with disguarded wood and furniture and it is one of those messes that you can handle because there is stuff there a guy needs..
i haven't seen the chapel, but there is one and so i get the picture that this is a Catholic orphanage with a staff of, i am guessing, 10?
we are free to wander. i approach a little one. he is bent over playing something..not sure.. he is like the streets..except for a face that beams with immediate acceptance. his teeth are white and his eyes sparkle. i take his little hanny and everything is perfect..
on this note i will say 'til later, as it is 7:30 and the computer is hot and the keys sticky.. breakfast is on the table.. it looks the same. instant coffee beckons and my feet are cold. but i am well. thinking of you and wondering how your days are. i miss the smell that is fall and all of you and what are our normal goings on. tucking you into my pockets to give you a really good day. huugggs and kiisssssess. i love you my special ones. keep happy and eat a great big hot piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream and cheeze on the side for me, topped off with fresh perulated coffee. thanks for this.
all my love mom aka ...me,deb..
many days have past since i have written and i have been whittling away at this letter since wednesday. the birds got me up this morning early and it is almost 6.. which is 7 at home. my roomies are fast asleep so i have moved my writing space to the living room because the start up sounds of this computer would probably awaken them... maybe not. i am still fighting a nasty cold... those little runts are full of runny noses and they are all over me and in my arms... and my glands which got swollen wednesday have been doctored up by the doctor in the house.. diagnosed with a spoon on my tongue.. anyway i am on the mend in that department and would get better if life slowed down a notch.. but i why would i let it?
so i will take you back to last sunday and it begins like this...
.it is sunday and i have missed church. one last day til work and the buzz of new house guests is the news of breakfast. seems breakfast is the same every morning and i am fine with this. we make a plan for the day.. to go to lunch in the square, enjoy the festival of tourists and finish sarah's shopping... (sarah is the fabulous spanish speaking girl from california)... the idea of filling those three extra twin beds in my room is beginning to register.. that's a lot of people in one room! it's been awhile since i've shared a room and i kind of like the idea for now,having had a few nights alone in a foreign place... but i wonder for how long...hmmmm. sortof like being in university.. their arrival is anticipated by all of us. finally, my two new bunk mates, laura a busting, confident, curly haired woman about 22, who doesn't say hello but zooms upstairs to crash, and Jacqueline .. a soft lovely girl with a sweetness about her much like our jenny... also about 22, who jumps into the conversation and is ready to take on the city.
we all head out on a combi, the name of the volkswagen type bus, that fits upwards of 20 not 15 as i mentioned earlier. so you have a true picture of this vehicle.. firstly the bus is in shambles.. beat up, with vinyl seats that have been picked at and worn. it is quite dirty not with garbage just needing a good scrubdown and attention..sometimes the buses have names , cant' think of one right now, oh yeah, "Batman" was the one we were on ...and like taxis are quite personalized..with fringed velvet runners with tassels that cover the dash and letters across the front window that says their name senor...there are dozens of buses and i still have no idea which one to take anywhere .. thinking the Santa Ana goes past the office.. anyway we go to the square and the gang decide that they would like to eat,, get this meg and kate, yup you guessed it, guinea pig called cuy... not interesed but going along with them we walk up and down cobbled streets with sidewalks of another stone and buildings that have stones part way up the sides and white plaster walls that seem to go on forever broken with odd entry ways with old doors which have captured my attention way more than any quest for a restaurant.. .. everyone except me is eager to find a place that serves says it serves this Peruvian delicacy... no..no ...no .. thank goodness we only found a very restaurent where the main entrees were 55 sol or so, (divide by 3 so 18 or so US dollars) and so they passed.. meg and kate you don't need to read this part. when they serve the cuy, which in some places you can pick the one you want. aahhh! they roast it and it is served whole. that is completely - like you can imagine... head, ears with carrots sticking out of them, and feet .. oh my! they fill the tummy part (why am i telling you this?) with a mixture that sounds like cooweeyeno.. don't know what that really is yet.
we grab a bite to eat, enchaladas, and with new girls in tow, we walk to San Pablos market on the other side of the square to discover another market...this is a place in cusco that is safe in the day but not where you would ever go at night.
it is a covered market , as they have all been , and before entering i imagine it to be the same as all the others i have been to..notso.. at the door there are three options,... you can go right, straight or left ,sticking together for the time being we turn down a dark aisle heavily laden on both sides with festive wares of woven bags, neatly stacked alpaca sweaters, in stalls that are about 6 feet by10. tight in corners worn bodies are nesting, some eating, some watching tv! and some fast asleep. at the sight of us..that we have paused, glanced inside to see if there is anything different and see who is tucked in the corner.. they invite with eagerness that we stay longer, often picking up something to show us and jumping to another item when we shake our heads or say as politely as refusals can be 'no gracias'. this is accepted with equal politeness and i walk slowly from stall to stall looking at the same sweaters and patterns, purses and scarves, belts and beautifully knitted hats, that i have seen in every market and street side vender since i arrived . i am meandering and becoming aware of the dense sickening smell of meat and the open food market that is ahead...oohhhh! and on the tables ahead of me whole chickens,slabs of beef and full heads of pigs grab my attention..... it is awful to look at and even worse to inhale.... choosing a new focus i notice tucked into spaces at hip level are small worn out vendors, old ladies in layers of earth coloured aprons bent over bowls scooping eagerly spoonfuls of sloppy lunch. i switch into fast walk and sarah and i hurry past the meat section of the market and into a fast gear and this market loses our interest.
outside a little boy, about four is crying. in both hands he holds what appears to be popsicles and he seems to belong to a family on the bench in front of him..about 5 feet away. i react.. wanting to rush over and cheer him with a candy i have in my bag.... but one of the girls remarks... they are trained to draw attention to lure tourists and get money.. i am shocked.. just then the man on the bench shoes the boy away and he rushes into the market..apparently not belonging to them afer all.
my eyes begin to open. his mother must be in the market.. i hope his mother is in the market. we begin to walk home, down avenito del sol, to a less stinky market and then home..
In the house , more volunteers have arrived.. two men, michael a man about 70 from New Zealand who suffers from sleep apnia and Gavin , a former army guy , 49 from England. very interesting crew. .. sarah and her sister are here for one more week, and chris for another two, and they are simply great kids. not sure what will happen when the vibrant trio leaves, for there is such great conversation and laughter at dinner that i find it impossible to leave the table... they are on the building project in a rural school of about 100 children with three teachers..whew!! the kitchen is at the point of putting in windows and they are layering cement over split bamboo, braced with a board used as a level and for everything else..at the moment they are having a time getting the layers of cement to stick. on top of this, the children are forever poking and prodding their accomplishments and demanding attention. sounds right up my alley.
at this point i still have no idea where i will be working and know nothing about what i will be doing except that from the sounds of things volunteers only work 3 or 4 hours a day!!! sarah, chris and amandas' building project is just that.. is about 4 hours a day plus travel back and forth to the school.
so monday morning begins and i am excited at the revelation of mystery.. hoping for babies as i have just been dazzled by them these past three days as they are tucked onto the backs of mommies, under tables and into corners everywhere.i have been wandering around the city and its centre.... feels like ages and am getting used to the routine here at Nadia´s as well as the temperatures .. the shower and the toilet.. the food , well not quite.. feeling acdc today and trying to find some way back to zone food... the yogurt comes in a bottle that looks like a plastic coke bottle and it is very liquid but yummy. nadia always serves a fried !!!egg and i eat it along with a hard flat bun, usually hollow in the middle . i make instant coffee ..there is a carafe of hot water on the stand all day and evening.. and i bypass the juice.. i peel an apple and chat a minute with the team who are off to build a kitchen, and the newbies. we make a plan to walk to the office about 10:00 for orientation which begins at noon at the office of Maximo Nivel .
anxious to figure out how long it takes to walk to the office we head out on foot. the traffic is wild. little cars and taxis, legal (has checkerboards on sides) or illegal, cramming into lanes that become three wiggly cars wide jammed bumper to bumper pretty much for the entire eye´s view..it is a wicked caos to observe.. and when inside one wonders how side mirrors aren´t torn off for cars are just inches from each other.
we begin our walk leaving a quiet neighbourhood about four small blocks from Avenita de Cultura, which is a long road that leads almost into Avenita del sol and to the office..the air is not noticably thin, the temperature is almost warm enough for short sleeves, not hot but just right and my heart is light...even though i am not feeling 100% my anticipation in the day takes my mind away from myself.. anyway, with no real concept of distance we finish four small blocks.. then check out the traffic.. which is rather unbelievable . i am beginning to notice the air, not the thinness but the pollution......... this is unreal. the air is thick with exhaust fumes... and their is no excaping it. i have just begun the walk and my throat is coated with fumes and it just makes me sick. the idea of clean mountain air disappears and i wish i had a face mask. we pass construction and demolition.. a man with a sledge hammer pounds at a cement floor , wall already demolished and i can see the effort in this job.. we walk.. not so much little shops as gas stations and boarded up buildings until we reach the area where the university is and it is better.. buildings and sidewalks are cleaner .. at least completed .. and there is a bustle that is not unlike any campus.. i am anxious to get off this street... the air is sickening.. the mountains are beautiful and the sun is warm.. but it is impossible to enjoy this. we take a side street to get off the main drag and then more happily walk to ave.del sol and the office. about 45 minutes. and happy to be there i have some coco tea because they say it fixes everything.
all i want to know in the presentation is where i am working... and i learn i am going to be in a boys orphanage... i am disappointed for a few minutes because i so wanted to be with the babies... but then i switch my thinking and decide these kids need a mommy figure and i am good at that. the visit to the orphanage is scheduled for 5pm .. here we get the details.. i am to work in the afternoon and have morning spanish classes from 8 to 10 work being get this 3 hours!!! no flipping way .. so i see if i can piggyback two projects in and they seem open to discuss this or i can just work more hours .. perfect.
.
the orphanage is about a fifteen minute walk from the office. Ryan, a director, walks with us , around the corner and up a few steps to the road that leads to.......... tired, dirty shops line the area closest to the avenue del sol and behind partly closed doors and high walls old cars lined side to side settle from years of sitting.. there are old bikes with carriers butting into sidewalks, and old, young women and all women in between carry babies on their backs beside carts selling packaged treats and drinks..we pass a road that has been torn up with all the wonderful old rocks which typically cover the streets removed and baracaded.. further down, after dodging traffic and racing cabs, we get to a corner where a bridge crosses into santiago , a neighbourhood unlike anything i have seen yet.... nice though there are carts full of fruit all around this corner and that part feels healthy.. the air is cleaner but the shops are poorer. even the colours speak poverty and all of a sudden the true cusco becomes clear.. true colours... just up the hill is the orphanage . it is pale yellow and its walls stretch high above the street.. enormous doors in thick patterned wood and a high dirty doorbell greet us...
the door opens and we are greeted by a man with black hair and a gracious smile. his name is hario and he is the staff psycologist. he takes us up to his office and being entirely spanish speaking talks back and forth with ryan, to figure out our schedule.. judy, gavin and i are at this meeting. so it gets organized.. i will be on afternoon shift. 3-6 officially then 2-6.. with a little play... that works for me.
imageine a huge rectangular court.. with covered sidewalks around its' perimeter that is just wide enough for a pingpong table , which they have. on the inside which has sections of grass divided into four with a cross shaped sidewalk and central statue, sectioned off with low walls. there are bright yellow cement benches that line the sidewalks and two big trees, a swing set with chained hand rings, a bar, and wooden seat all mostly wrapped around the frame. in the grassed areas which is worn out and tired like the staff, that have appeared to see what we are about, has rose bushes that are straggly and uncared for in cut out circles that go all around the edges inside and out of the grass. there are also big beds of other flowers but they are more like stems.. so it must not be the season for them to bloom yet.. to sum it up the whole place needs a little love.
there are rooms on everyside of the rectangle and we begin the tour upstairs to their sleeping quarters. it is like the movie 'cider house rules'. little beds line the walls..about twelve per room and there is an adjoining open door that leads to a second room... there are thirty seven boys in this place and these are the little boys rooms. at least the blankets are colourful.. the ceilings are about 15 feet high and there are no pictures that i can remember, but probably a cross or the Virgin Mary is somewhere.
downstairs we walk down the corridor to see the study..tables with chairs piled upside down form a 'u' shape and at the end the wall is full of books about 5 feet across. there is a smell of urine here and the rug is dirty..everything needs paint but i imagine there is more this place needs than this... we see the change room.. three sections of marigold painted lockers , all needing dad, missing handles and coming apart, divide the room into two sections. behind the middle row old mattresses are stacked under a top bunk with just enough room for a little kid to hide. it is pretty awful.
we are shown the washroom.. one shower and toilet, sink with no toilet paper, a room especially for pens and guinea pigs (not sure if they eat them) , an unfinished project that is a chicken coup with no chickens, and then we are walked through a door to the kitchen..ok.. and the dining room ..quite nice (treasure island) and to a section of outside space where the laundry hangs. there is a shoeshine room, a carpentry room - a mess but with old great equipment.. a planer, a big table with a rip saw and a lathe. corners are stacked with disguarded wood and furniture and it is one of those messes that you can handle because there is stuff there a guy needs..
i haven't seen the chapel, but there is one and so i get the picture that this is a Catholic orphanage with a staff of, i am guessing, 10?
we are free to wander. i approach a little one. he is bent over playing something..not sure.. he is like the streets..except for a face that beams with immediate acceptance. his teeth are white and his eyes sparkle. i take his little hanny and everything is perfect..
on this note i will say 'til later, as it is 7:30 and the computer is hot and the keys sticky.. breakfast is on the table.. it looks the same. instant coffee beckons and my feet are cold. but i am well. thinking of you and wondering how your days are. i miss the smell that is fall and all of you and what are our normal goings on. tucking you into my pockets to give you a really good day. huugggs and kiisssssess. i love you my special ones. keep happy and eat a great big hot piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream and cheeze on the side for me, topped off with fresh perulated coffee. thanks for this.
all my love mom aka ...me,deb..
pictures from peru with love
hi guys,
here are some pictures for you to help you learn about cusco.
shows the flight in through the airplane window and the view of cusco from the air. sorry for poor colour. then a shot of the streets. this is video but came up as pic. then pics of Nadia's casa where i am living. living room, dining room, kitchen , bedroom and bathroom.
favorite pics are included of the children at the festival with the little alpacas in their pouches.. rosemarie and her friend. there is a good pic of that great old lady that i negotiated with who wanted to write on her hand. hope you like them.
nite all. happy dreams. love mom aka me,aunt deb, deb,debbie, debra
here are some pictures for you to help you learn about cusco.
shows the flight in through the airplane window and the view of cusco from the air. sorry for poor colour. then a shot of the streets. this is video but came up as pic. then pics of Nadia's casa where i am living. living room, dining room, kitchen , bedroom and bathroom.
favorite pics are included of the children at the festival with the little alpacas in their pouches.. rosemarie and her friend. there is a good pic of that great old lady that i negotiated with who wanted to write on her hand. hope you like them.
nite all. happy dreams. love mom aka me,aunt deb, deb,debbie, debra
love from Peru on this Sunday Morning: September 6
Dearest kids, family and friends.
it is Sunday morning and the morning has just peaked over the mountains in soft mauves which remind me of the pink of the mornings on lake mindemoya. it is quiet and peaceful here. only the barking of a few dogs and an occasional car break the silence. i like it. there is no hurry or reason to get up so i remain here all snuggled up in your sleeping bag , meg, and it is warm. i am missing the company of tugs who would be snoring at my feet, but i know that he is most likely doing just that between patricia and norm. thanks guys. this makes it better. i imagine grace and tilley are loving the company of you katie and tony, i hope these kitties make you as happy as you thought they would. grace can be a bother in the morning,,actually all through the nite if you let her sleep with you.i;m sure you have figured it out or will.
the sun is up and the houses that spatter up the mountains catch the day. i wonder who live up there. there is a big deep square cutout in the hill so i will have to explore the city and see what that is. the tree in front of the window, which looks like those florida windows with small tilting pieces of glass that wind out,blocks other buildings which surround the small courtyard below. this space is nowhere you would wander into and have a coffee (which i would love right now) it isn't kept or tidy and so far i haven't caught a glimpse of neighbours. but that is ok. i have filled any time here at the house eating meals with the other volunteers, sarah& sabrina, sisters from california. (sarah is studying engineering and sabrina is a hairdresser both early20's) and chris who is from new york late 20's but like a boy. they are great and showed me the ropes and told me tips that i am glad to know so i can handle things alone and be safe.
One of the first conversations i had with them at dinner , which is always set for 6;30, was about what you need to know right now. this was eye opening..
for example, you will find this interesting or something.... in the house only one toilet has a seat and it is not in my room,and you never flush your toilet paper down the toilet you put it in the trashcan. okay.... this is about the worst thing here.. i am going to buy a seat for this room as soon as i can figure out where to get one .also,the water stays cold a long time in the shower but if you are patient, i have learned, it will get hot and then you can get really clean. if i close my eyes and smell the shampoo i go home. thanks meg.
Friday, Nadia the house mother, took me for a walk to see the neighbourhood and get my bearings. Our street in on a hill, so up we walked to a small road, like a street in say the west end, where you can get a taxi or a bus, just by putting up your arm. She walked me about 4 blocks east to the local grocery store speaking spanish 98% of the time. i have been repeating everything but certainly not remembering yet.. then we walked back and she made me find her house.. good thing i can remember landmarks because i don't have the street names down yet. we are in santa monica neighbourhood and the street is san jose... not sure. she made sure i got the technique of the fussy key down and it was all cheerful and funny and we laughed with each other attempting to figure out our words. cant wait for spanish lessons... monday.
that afternoon i took a cab to Maximo Nuvel, headquarters on the main street, avenue del sol, and that is the main place everybody goes most days for everything from money exchange, orientation, exploration trips, computers, salsa classes, coco tea and for any assistance you might ever need. the computers have spanish keyboards so excuse sp errors from there.
with the warning of taking it easy the first few days because of the high altitude i did, not sleeping or wasting time napping, but casually strolling the main streets and hopping into shops and seeing their wares.
most memorable is the little old lady , see the picture, who was settled on a step on the sidewalk weaving a belt. she was worn and baked from the strong sun here and she smiled and beckoned me to visit and see. so i did. she was beautiful. anyway i found this blue, red and white woven belt with llamas, and wonderful patterns and i told her i liked this one. how much? 40 sol. so divide by 3 about 13 dollars us. apparently you are supposed to barter here. well i am terrible at that. we always just pay what people ask. but i decided to try. 30 sols i say. her eyes sparkle and we are both grinning ear to ear happiness dancing between us.. her at the thought of a sale, and me at the connection with this woman.. anyway she says no and pulls out of her bag this ..i will call it a needle..like a darning needle..and starts to write on her hand and pushing the letters of 40 ..well, no way, i put my hand over her hand to rub it better and she laughs at me ,. i shake my head no ..don't do that i am thinking .. ouch.. we play at this game a little longer and then we settle for 33sol. she ties the belt around me and i thank her. that was the best part of the afternoon on avenue del sol
i catch a taxi home.. apparently if you don't ask the rate. it is 2.5sol or 3 at themost.. so i have decided to pay them three sol . this cab driver takes me on a completely different route, old run down shops and lots of things for sale outside on the streets like avenue road, but wayyyyy from a different world.. anyway he gets me to my home and demands 4sol.. nadia said you never ever pay 4 sol except after 10pm so i say , no i said 3 sol and although he was disgruntled with me accepted 3 which was fair. i am a gringo and easy to take advantage of with prices. when i learn some spanish i will feel more comfortable.. but i've had some good training over the years and i stood my ground and i wasn't getting out of that taxi til he bent.
dinner time.. visit time. nadia always asks if i am doing ok.. nodding her head and questioning me with her eyes. i am. i am fine. getting my sea legs.
for dinner we had chicken, baked with a dark brown sauce, white rice in a formed rounded shape and sliced cucumbers and tomatoe heavy with salt. there was a limey greenish pepper hot sauce for the rice which i passed on.. oh yes, a salty tasting soup was served first that reminded me of chicken noodle soup with no noodles. so the food is fine.. i am not fussy. it is certainly not the yogurt, piece of raison pita with peanut butter and fruit that i have lived on over the years.. but i am feeling it out, giving chris the 27year old boy from new york my any portions that i would waste.. there was no apple pie for dessert. thank you everyone for the ongoing feasts we had over the last few weeks at home. yuummmy memories..
by 9 i was finished that night. freezing and dead tired. sitting at the table was hardly bearable and i just wanted to crank the heat to 22degrees. no . noheat here. although there is a nonworking fireplace in the corner. on the hearth layers of pictures of the Virgin Mary have been placed.
layered with two pairs of especially hot socks, two layers of long underware and tops i crawled into the sleeping bag and covered myself with the hood and ski hat. wow it is cold.
amazingly enough i slept like a log.
woke to freezing. oh my goodness. but breakfast was warming .. it is instant coffee in this house as tea is the thing. the plan for yesterday with the girls was to go to 'jacks' a more canadian/american place (would love a salad) and then to the Festival of Tourists which is taking place over the next two more days. anxious to teach me the ropes, sarah, (the more mothering of the two sisters) decided we would take the bus. these buses are small, like volkswagen vans maybe a little bigger and would in canada seat 10 or so. well not here. seat 15,16,.. small, strong women, man the sliding door calling out each street and yelling to the people on the sidewalk .. to get attention. the cost is, 60,pesos? which you give her when you are at your street and ready to get off. on the first ride i sat facing the back of the bus and was captured by the faces around me. a little child was beside me, glowing and happy. i offered her a maple leaf candy. she smiled and beamed at me. gracias seniorita! i told her it was from a tree in canada ..she talked back and forth to her mother who encouraged her to speak english.. she knew some words and looked at the ceiling to try to find them...then i dug into my bag for a pair of magnifying glasses for her to give her mom. we were all happy.
at the market square the girls and i took in the crowd. areas were being blocked for looks like grand events with floats and people everywhere. the pictures that you see of peru are here. the wonderful little people in heavy, embroidered wool skirts and costumes. most striking are the beautiful faces of every age , deeply browned by the sun with rosy cheeks that seem to beam good health. their hair is black and straight , often braided and they have beautiful sharp noses and hazel eyes. their hands seem small and most seem fit..except the older ladies from the hills who are wide with time and covered in layers of colour. i am captivated.
as we walk two girls, rosemarie and her friend, both holding baby alpaca wrapped in blankets, like they do babies, stand beckoning us to take a picture. their faces are irristable and sarah takes our picture together for maple leaf candies and money. they are so beautiful and so grateful and polite. it makes me anxious for monday and the weeks ahead. when you look at the picture of them see how they hold their skirts out and glow,
i marvel at the freedom of the children here. carefree they run around ,up and down the sidewalks near the stations their mommies have claimed on stairsteps in doorways or inside tiny stores where they sell their treasures..they are nursed freely on buses and streetside and the babies seem to never fuss in those colourful wraps which tie them to their mothers souls. it is wonderful here.
everyone is layered in clothing, mostly like we us and even though it is quite hot by 1pm people still stay in long pants and long sleeves. people blend into the stone walls and cobbled roads which are so beautifully made you would think charlie gibson was their boss.
i cannot take everything in...
sarah and i spent the day together as she wanted to shop and i just wanted to wander around and discover.. we met a venor playing a small guitar/uke like instrument and wowowo he played beautifully and i just wanted to stay and listen.. this was in a small meandering street away from the area of the parades..i told him i wanted to buy a guitara.. delighted he had some in his shop and he beckoned me away up this same street and in through a doorway where you would question your presence.. anyway, not afraid of him i follow, up steps (which they liken to the steps you take on the second day hike to Macho Picho (sp?) that are about a foot high and create beautiful spaces and ledges in no particular order or size, and all open to the sky with little casas and shops around its edges, and to his shop. inside, which is very dark, there are all kinds of musical instruments. two guitars which i try, with very thick necks, too big for my hand, but amazingly beautiful sound.. of course he plays and i just breathe... wow. then i ask about another instrument, shaped like a mandolin but bigger with four sets of strings , of four strings.. so 16 strings. still small enough to play like you would a guitar and with the same chords.. cool. he plays. i tape him. i fiddle around on it. neat. he says 800sols so about 250us and free lessons ..many lessons.. well this is tempting. the guitar is 300 sol. so 100dollars. in my budget.. i wait. sarah appears and tells him i have more looking to do.
i am excited for there isn't a song that i couldn't fake my way through for those little ones on either instrument. funnnn..
we shop more and by this time the salad that i have eaten is playing havik with my insides. peptobismal doesn't cut it here. tmo ha! tm
the evening brings plans for a show in one of the main squares so sarah and i layer up and get a bus to for 7:30. on the bus there is an old gaffer with a Canadian cap who i would love to talk to but resist. he is centuries old. there are lovers in the back and a slicked up dude ready for a saturday nite out. no little kids here but once we arrive, and it is dark, there are still children everywhere. the streets are still full of people and we race up the cobbled one way street to the theatre.
it was solid entertainment... with audience participation in skits, men doing acrobatics on stilts and fire juggling and brilliant costumes and dancing. this was a treat and i am thrilled to accompany sarah, who is anxious to get everything in before she leaves in a week.
there is something about the air up here..they warn you of its thinness and people have stories of being sick for a week but touch wood so far, i've had no trouble with the altitude other than a slight headache..walking the boardwalk has prepared me for the streets which follow the earth and i am happy for this and the little boy who told me "it's hard when you're old".
well this has been a long letter and i hope it finds you all happy and well. thank you for the letters i have received. gracias amegos! i will always write you back.
que hay de neuvo? what's new? keep me up on life. i hear we have some family news!!i am so thrilled for you j 2. secret code. also so thrilled with tugs blog..so very heartwarming. i want your stories too.. they will make my life full.
today we head for the festival. two new volunteers have just arrived. laura?? haven't met and Jacqueline. expecting a full house of 10. Jacqueline who is here for 3ms in the childrens program. she is lovely. from minnesota , 22 and has picked the bed beside the window in the room i am in. she joined us for breakfast of yogurt, fruit, tang? coffee and flat bread. we missed church this morning because mass is from 6am to9am and i although i was up early and sarah and i intended to go, we decided to make Jacqueline comfortable and go to a day mass in one of the grand churchesanother day.
so at 11:30 we head out.
i know there is tour of Cusco today and i may take it in. better now than later i think, unless the festival offers celebrations that i cannot get away from. it is feeling good here and what i have seen so far is not sad. other than the language challenges and wishing you were really in my pockets, it is pretty perfect. today is the last free day till work begins and i am excited to know what i will be doing.
i love you and i miss you. have happy days.put me in your pockets.
,molove mom alias me,deb/debbie/debra
it is Sunday morning and the morning has just peaked over the mountains in soft mauves which remind me of the pink of the mornings on lake mindemoya. it is quiet and peaceful here. only the barking of a few dogs and an occasional car break the silence. i like it. there is no hurry or reason to get up so i remain here all snuggled up in your sleeping bag , meg, and it is warm. i am missing the company of tugs who would be snoring at my feet, but i know that he is most likely doing just that between patricia and norm. thanks guys. this makes it better. i imagine grace and tilley are loving the company of you katie and tony, i hope these kitties make you as happy as you thought they would. grace can be a bother in the morning,,actually all through the nite if you let her sleep with you.i;m sure you have figured it out or will.
the sun is up and the houses that spatter up the mountains catch the day. i wonder who live up there. there is a big deep square cutout in the hill so i will have to explore the city and see what that is. the tree in front of the window, which looks like those florida windows with small tilting pieces of glass that wind out,blocks other buildings which surround the small courtyard below. this space is nowhere you would wander into and have a coffee (which i would love right now) it isn't kept or tidy and so far i haven't caught a glimpse of neighbours. but that is ok. i have filled any time here at the house eating meals with the other volunteers, sarah& sabrina, sisters from california. (sarah is studying engineering and sabrina is a hairdresser both early20's) and chris who is from new york late 20's but like a boy. they are great and showed me the ropes and told me tips that i am glad to know so i can handle things alone and be safe.
One of the first conversations i had with them at dinner , which is always set for 6;30, was about what you need to know right now. this was eye opening..
for example, you will find this interesting or something.... in the house only one toilet has a seat and it is not in my room,and you never flush your toilet paper down the toilet you put it in the trashcan. okay.... this is about the worst thing here.. i am going to buy a seat for this room as soon as i can figure out where to get one .also,the water stays cold a long time in the shower but if you are patient, i have learned, it will get hot and then you can get really clean. if i close my eyes and smell the shampoo i go home. thanks meg.
Friday, Nadia the house mother, took me for a walk to see the neighbourhood and get my bearings. Our street in on a hill, so up we walked to a small road, like a street in say the west end, where you can get a taxi or a bus, just by putting up your arm. She walked me about 4 blocks east to the local grocery store speaking spanish 98% of the time. i have been repeating everything but certainly not remembering yet.. then we walked back and she made me find her house.. good thing i can remember landmarks because i don't have the street names down yet. we are in santa monica neighbourhood and the street is san jose... not sure. she made sure i got the technique of the fussy key down and it was all cheerful and funny and we laughed with each other attempting to figure out our words. cant wait for spanish lessons... monday.
that afternoon i took a cab to Maximo Nuvel, headquarters on the main street, avenue del sol, and that is the main place everybody goes most days for everything from money exchange, orientation, exploration trips, computers, salsa classes, coco tea and for any assistance you might ever need. the computers have spanish keyboards so excuse sp errors from there.
with the warning of taking it easy the first few days because of the high altitude i did, not sleeping or wasting time napping, but casually strolling the main streets and hopping into shops and seeing their wares.
most memorable is the little old lady , see the picture, who was settled on a step on the sidewalk weaving a belt. she was worn and baked from the strong sun here and she smiled and beckoned me to visit and see. so i did. she was beautiful. anyway i found this blue, red and white woven belt with llamas, and wonderful patterns and i told her i liked this one. how much? 40 sol. so divide by 3 about 13 dollars us. apparently you are supposed to barter here. well i am terrible at that. we always just pay what people ask. but i decided to try. 30 sols i say. her eyes sparkle and we are both grinning ear to ear happiness dancing between us.. her at the thought of a sale, and me at the connection with this woman.. anyway she says no and pulls out of her bag this ..i will call it a needle..like a darning needle..and starts to write on her hand and pushing the letters of 40 ..well, no way, i put my hand over her hand to rub it better and she laughs at me ,. i shake my head no ..don't do that i am thinking .. ouch.. we play at this game a little longer and then we settle for 33sol. she ties the belt around me and i thank her. that was the best part of the afternoon on avenue del sol
i catch a taxi home.. apparently if you don't ask the rate. it is 2.5sol or 3 at themost.. so i have decided to pay them three sol . this cab driver takes me on a completely different route, old run down shops and lots of things for sale outside on the streets like avenue road, but wayyyyy from a different world.. anyway he gets me to my home and demands 4sol.. nadia said you never ever pay 4 sol except after 10pm so i say , no i said 3 sol and although he was disgruntled with me accepted 3 which was fair. i am a gringo and easy to take advantage of with prices. when i learn some spanish i will feel more comfortable.. but i've had some good training over the years and i stood my ground and i wasn't getting out of that taxi til he bent.
dinner time.. visit time. nadia always asks if i am doing ok.. nodding her head and questioning me with her eyes. i am. i am fine. getting my sea legs.
for dinner we had chicken, baked with a dark brown sauce, white rice in a formed rounded shape and sliced cucumbers and tomatoe heavy with salt. there was a limey greenish pepper hot sauce for the rice which i passed on.. oh yes, a salty tasting soup was served first that reminded me of chicken noodle soup with no noodles. so the food is fine.. i am not fussy. it is certainly not the yogurt, piece of raison pita with peanut butter and fruit that i have lived on over the years.. but i am feeling it out, giving chris the 27year old boy from new york my any portions that i would waste.. there was no apple pie for dessert. thank you everyone for the ongoing feasts we had over the last few weeks at home. yuummmy memories..
by 9 i was finished that night. freezing and dead tired. sitting at the table was hardly bearable and i just wanted to crank the heat to 22degrees. no . noheat here. although there is a nonworking fireplace in the corner. on the hearth layers of pictures of the Virgin Mary have been placed.
layered with two pairs of especially hot socks, two layers of long underware and tops i crawled into the sleeping bag and covered myself with the hood and ski hat. wow it is cold.
amazingly enough i slept like a log.
woke to freezing. oh my goodness. but breakfast was warming .. it is instant coffee in this house as tea is the thing. the plan for yesterday with the girls was to go to 'jacks' a more canadian/american place (would love a salad) and then to the Festival of Tourists which is taking place over the next two more days. anxious to teach me the ropes, sarah, (the more mothering of the two sisters) decided we would take the bus. these buses are small, like volkswagen vans maybe a little bigger and would in canada seat 10 or so. well not here. seat 15,16,.. small, strong women, man the sliding door calling out each street and yelling to the people on the sidewalk .. to get attention. the cost is, 60,pesos? which you give her when you are at your street and ready to get off. on the first ride i sat facing the back of the bus and was captured by the faces around me. a little child was beside me, glowing and happy. i offered her a maple leaf candy. she smiled and beamed at me. gracias seniorita! i told her it was from a tree in canada ..she talked back and forth to her mother who encouraged her to speak english.. she knew some words and looked at the ceiling to try to find them...then i dug into my bag for a pair of magnifying glasses for her to give her mom. we were all happy.
at the market square the girls and i took in the crowd. areas were being blocked for looks like grand events with floats and people everywhere. the pictures that you see of peru are here. the wonderful little people in heavy, embroidered wool skirts and costumes. most striking are the beautiful faces of every age , deeply browned by the sun with rosy cheeks that seem to beam good health. their hair is black and straight , often braided and they have beautiful sharp noses and hazel eyes. their hands seem small and most seem fit..except the older ladies from the hills who are wide with time and covered in layers of colour. i am captivated.
as we walk two girls, rosemarie and her friend, both holding baby alpaca wrapped in blankets, like they do babies, stand beckoning us to take a picture. their faces are irristable and sarah takes our picture together for maple leaf candies and money. they are so beautiful and so grateful and polite. it makes me anxious for monday and the weeks ahead. when you look at the picture of them see how they hold their skirts out and glow,
i marvel at the freedom of the children here. carefree they run around ,up and down the sidewalks near the stations their mommies have claimed on stairsteps in doorways or inside tiny stores where they sell their treasures..they are nursed freely on buses and streetside and the babies seem to never fuss in those colourful wraps which tie them to their mothers souls. it is wonderful here.
everyone is layered in clothing, mostly like we us and even though it is quite hot by 1pm people still stay in long pants and long sleeves. people blend into the stone walls and cobbled roads which are so beautifully made you would think charlie gibson was their boss.
i cannot take everything in...
sarah and i spent the day together as she wanted to shop and i just wanted to wander around and discover.. we met a venor playing a small guitar/uke like instrument and wowowo he played beautifully and i just wanted to stay and listen.. this was in a small meandering street away from the area of the parades..i told him i wanted to buy a guitara.. delighted he had some in his shop and he beckoned me away up this same street and in through a doorway where you would question your presence.. anyway, not afraid of him i follow, up steps (which they liken to the steps you take on the second day hike to Macho Picho (sp?) that are about a foot high and create beautiful spaces and ledges in no particular order or size, and all open to the sky with little casas and shops around its edges, and to his shop. inside, which is very dark, there are all kinds of musical instruments. two guitars which i try, with very thick necks, too big for my hand, but amazingly beautiful sound.. of course he plays and i just breathe... wow. then i ask about another instrument, shaped like a mandolin but bigger with four sets of strings , of four strings.. so 16 strings. still small enough to play like you would a guitar and with the same chords.. cool. he plays. i tape him. i fiddle around on it. neat. he says 800sols so about 250us and free lessons ..many lessons.. well this is tempting. the guitar is 300 sol. so 100dollars. in my budget.. i wait. sarah appears and tells him i have more looking to do.
i am excited for there isn't a song that i couldn't fake my way through for those little ones on either instrument. funnnn..
we shop more and by this time the salad that i have eaten is playing havik with my insides. peptobismal doesn't cut it here. tmo ha! tm
the evening brings plans for a show in one of the main squares so sarah and i layer up and get a bus to for 7:30. on the bus there is an old gaffer with a Canadian cap who i would love to talk to but resist. he is centuries old. there are lovers in the back and a slicked up dude ready for a saturday nite out. no little kids here but once we arrive, and it is dark, there are still children everywhere. the streets are still full of people and we race up the cobbled one way street to the theatre.
it was solid entertainment... with audience participation in skits, men doing acrobatics on stilts and fire juggling and brilliant costumes and dancing. this was a treat and i am thrilled to accompany sarah, who is anxious to get everything in before she leaves in a week.
there is something about the air up here..they warn you of its thinness and people have stories of being sick for a week but touch wood so far, i've had no trouble with the altitude other than a slight headache..walking the boardwalk has prepared me for the streets which follow the earth and i am happy for this and the little boy who told me "it's hard when you're old".
well this has been a long letter and i hope it finds you all happy and well. thank you for the letters i have received. gracias amegos! i will always write you back.
que hay de neuvo? what's new? keep me up on life. i hear we have some family news!!i am so thrilled for you j 2. secret code. also so thrilled with tugs blog..so very heartwarming. i want your stories too.. they will make my life full.
today we head for the festival. two new volunteers have just arrived. laura?? haven't met and Jacqueline. expecting a full house of 10. Jacqueline who is here for 3ms in the childrens program. she is lovely. from minnesota , 22 and has picked the bed beside the window in the room i am in. she joined us for breakfast of yogurt, fruit, tang? coffee and flat bread. we missed church this morning because mass is from 6am to9am and i although i was up early and sarah and i intended to go, we decided to make Jacqueline comfortable and go to a day mass in one of the grand churchesanother day.
so at 11:30 we head out.
i know there is tour of Cusco today and i may take it in. better now than later i think, unless the festival offers celebrations that i cannot get away from. it is feeling good here and what i have seen so far is not sad. other than the language challenges and wishing you were really in my pockets, it is pretty perfect. today is the last free day till work begins and i am excited to know what i will be doing.
i love you and i miss you. have happy days.put me in your pockets.
,molove mom alias me,deb/debbie/debra
Arrival: September 4
dearest special kids, dearest family and wonderful friends,
well guys i am safe and sound.. with nothing more than a flight delay to Cusco arriving here today at about noon. this is not as i had imagined... and is more like Cuba than Africa.. i was thinking it rural.. it is not .. the day is clear and sunny, about 65 i am guessing.. the streets are small and miandering with no real pattern and the drivers simply push their way into places, honking at pedestrians and with no apparent traffic lights.. the cars are tiny . . meg, your back pack fit like a person in the front seat and brian, the blessed young soul that met me at the airport, myself and knapsack nicely filled the backseat. the senor drove me to maximo nuvel to meet the team.
....the town is set in the middle of mountains .. with clay coloured roofs that spatter up the mountain sides that lead from the city center. flying in the place looks like a brown and khaki quilt with all the land used even under the trees... the streets are lined with coloured houses, some with iron gates, some with full walls, usually not pretty or kept i have a great shots flying in which will be cool in a slide show if tony you will help me... and neat shots of the city so that all of you will know what it looks like from above.. i filmed the drive in so this is cool too..
so now, we jump traffic and wander into an open air building, with iron gate and little rooms that merge off each side.. and then up some old worn out steps to the office where i met jonathon the person in charge of volunteers here and a few young women who told me ..monday at noon is our introductory day where we learn what we are doing, about spanish classes, schedules and planning trips. then, brian, asked me if i ever had coco tea.. no.. anyway it is for altitude sickness, tastes kindof like that awful tea we have on the whirlygig, and made me a cup. then we got in another cab, zooooommmed through the streets to find my family.. casa nadia. my address is jose maria arguedzz j11, cusco. Nadia´s cell phone number is cel telephono 984761211 and home phone is 254504.
we passed the market where guitars are about 35 dollars for a good one.. at the last minute there was no way i could manage the load with the guitar so buying one is my option.. and the hospital where nadia´s husband works .. he is a doctors o we have zero worries about the care i will have here.. also mom, i have great health insurance and can come home if i get sick or need to get home.. yeah!!!!so i got a great rundown of the place and it has everything i need.. computer room where i am working now, an open air place with tables for spanish lessons, a snack and coco tea place and bonus the office is in the heart of cuso , so safe to be here. brian says that the city is safe,, don´t pay more that 2,50 sols for a taxi ride and 3 sol = 1 $ us.
now back to nadias casa.. nadias is kindof off the beaten path, but close to the hospital and in a very nice area of houses... the defining difference is the houses are more freshly painted, there are taller metal gates and there is foliage and trimmed trees along the sidewalks, still not beautiful but noticibly nicer than the majority of homes ...anyway in her house, which really reminds me of your place in guelph kate.. there is a similar staircase that leads you up to the rooms after you enter and pass through the entrance. to the left is a modest living room with a gigantuous television, two dining tables and a full glass door where there is a tired looking yard and small gray doggie..nice. the kitchen is humble too with a small wooden table in the middle .. and long thin window above the sink..the family has children but i haven´t seen them yet and i am thinking that this whole house is just for volunteers as i am in a room with three other twin beds, a gigantic window facing a little plot of ground with a grand old tree with sprawling branches (thank God) .. i really thought i would be in some familys´home out in the countryside where i would get dirty and have sponge baths every day... this place is clean and basic. the water in the shower is cold so i did the routine renovation scrubdown and feel all sparkled up. the routine is as we thought, 7¨30 breakfast, bag lunch and dinner at 6¨30 not 8¨30. wayyyy better. this is the plan til next week and i am relatively on my own for the next few days so i will find a guitar , a watch and maybe a tee shirt. it is not cold here very nice like september on a warm day. people wear full shoes and dress like us. there are men in business suits as smashing as those banker guys on Bay.. well almost.anyway, i am comfortable. not worried or afraid. it is so perfect that everything got finished at home , thanks meggie for giving me your holidays to get the place ready for tara and derek , our two good people at home. and thanks katie kate kate for downloading all my music.. and tony for my movies.. there will be time i am sure when somethings gotta give will hold my yearning to be home at bay.
the stars have all lined up. you are all my gifts. i love you. be happy. i am carrying you around in my pockets. til tomorrow. kkissssesss and hhhuggggsss to the clan i do that with.
well guys i am safe and sound.. with nothing more than a flight delay to Cusco arriving here today at about noon. this is not as i had imagined... and is more like Cuba than Africa.. i was thinking it rural.. it is not .. the day is clear and sunny, about 65 i am guessing.. the streets are small and miandering with no real pattern and the drivers simply push their way into places, honking at pedestrians and with no apparent traffic lights.. the cars are tiny . . meg, your back pack fit like a person in the front seat and brian, the blessed young soul that met me at the airport, myself and knapsack nicely filled the backseat. the senor drove me to maximo nuvel to meet the team.
....the town is set in the middle of mountains .. with clay coloured roofs that spatter up the mountain sides that lead from the city center. flying in the place looks like a brown and khaki quilt with all the land used even under the trees... the streets are lined with coloured houses, some with iron gates, some with full walls, usually not pretty or kept i have a great shots flying in which will be cool in a slide show if tony you will help me... and neat shots of the city so that all of you will know what it looks like from above.. i filmed the drive in so this is cool too..
so now, we jump traffic and wander into an open air building, with iron gate and little rooms that merge off each side.. and then up some old worn out steps to the office where i met jonathon the person in charge of volunteers here and a few young women who told me ..monday at noon is our introductory day where we learn what we are doing, about spanish classes, schedules and planning trips. then, brian, asked me if i ever had coco tea.. no.. anyway it is for altitude sickness, tastes kindof like that awful tea we have on the whirlygig, and made me a cup. then we got in another cab, zooooommmed through the streets to find my family.. casa nadia. my address is jose maria arguedzz j11, cusco. Nadia´s cell phone number is cel telephono 984761211 and home phone is 254504.
we passed the market where guitars are about 35 dollars for a good one.. at the last minute there was no way i could manage the load with the guitar so buying one is my option.. and the hospital where nadia´s husband works .. he is a doctors o we have zero worries about the care i will have here.. also mom, i have great health insurance and can come home if i get sick or need to get home.. yeah!!!!so i got a great rundown of the place and it has everything i need.. computer room where i am working now, an open air place with tables for spanish lessons, a snack and coco tea place and bonus the office is in the heart of cuso , so safe to be here. brian says that the city is safe,, don´t pay more that 2,50 sols for a taxi ride and 3 sol = 1 $ us.
now back to nadias casa.. nadias is kindof off the beaten path, but close to the hospital and in a very nice area of houses... the defining difference is the houses are more freshly painted, there are taller metal gates and there is foliage and trimmed trees along the sidewalks, still not beautiful but noticibly nicer than the majority of homes ...anyway in her house, which really reminds me of your place in guelph kate.. there is a similar staircase that leads you up to the rooms after you enter and pass through the entrance. to the left is a modest living room with a gigantuous television, two dining tables and a full glass door where there is a tired looking yard and small gray doggie..nice. the kitchen is humble too with a small wooden table in the middle .. and long thin window above the sink..the family has children but i haven´t seen them yet and i am thinking that this whole house is just for volunteers as i am in a room with three other twin beds, a gigantic window facing a little plot of ground with a grand old tree with sprawling branches (thank God) .. i really thought i would be in some familys´home out in the countryside where i would get dirty and have sponge baths every day... this place is clean and basic. the water in the shower is cold so i did the routine renovation scrubdown and feel all sparkled up. the routine is as we thought, 7¨30 breakfast, bag lunch and dinner at 6¨30 not 8¨30. wayyyy better. this is the plan til next week and i am relatively on my own for the next few days so i will find a guitar , a watch and maybe a tee shirt. it is not cold here very nice like september on a warm day. people wear full shoes and dress like us. there are men in business suits as smashing as those banker guys on Bay.. well almost.anyway, i am comfortable. not worried or afraid. it is so perfect that everything got finished at home , thanks meggie for giving me your holidays to get the place ready for tara and derek , our two good people at home. and thanks katie kate kate for downloading all my music.. and tony for my movies.. there will be time i am sure when somethings gotta give will hold my yearning to be home at bay.
the stars have all lined up. you are all my gifts. i love you. be happy. i am carrying you around in my pockets. til tomorrow. kkissssesss and hhhuggggsss to the clan i do that with.
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