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..