with love from peru- the guitar & joy! Oct 8

dearest kids , Mom & special gang and wonderful friends,

just when i thought i was losing my boys and the lipstick wasn't working along came monday.

spanish class presented a new teacher.. vivacious and spanish completely .. and it races along at a much too fast pace for one such as myself.. with new intentions with the boys i have tossed back and forth the idea of taking them shopping for a guitar and will talk to Janet, the directora for permission.. the day is beautiful with the cold captured higher in the mountains and the sun beating down on the streets of Cusco like a long awaited blessing.. off come the layers and i walk the familiar path dodging one person or another on their morning missions. the vendors with their carts of fruit and packaged treats have moved over the bridge at Santiago and policeman stand on corners.. more recently i have noticed their presence everywhere.. yellow boxes, like phone booths, settle on some corners as resting stations for them and to my comfort, most street corners in the neighbourhood where i live are guarded at night.. so it really does feel safe..

at the orphanage, jean-paul has the key to let me in... a great responsibility and much more pleasant than the stiff guard who does not smile in his dark suit and light shirt..hands raise hello with the exception of the getting tougher fourteen year old who i have yet to win over... he and i practice manners... hello, how are you today? looking in his eyes and shaking hands... nice to see you! .. he is not interested in paying me any attention but i choose to give him the time of day despite it all.... i talk to elvis.. the person that Janet has requested that someone sponsor... and i forget that he is elvis ... the one who wants to learn the piano... i ask him if he would like to come shopping to buy a guitar and he agrees.. not excited or particularly delighted or anything... but sort of like.. yes that would be fine .... janet is in her office and says certainly he can go, as can Americo, and Jean-Paul and eddie , the 5 foot next to nothing wonderful soft guy who only appears like a member of a gang.. eddie is learning the salsa, the rumba , the waltz and the cha-cha on the side with me when others aren´t looking... So , i have my great group of boys together and tell Elvis what i have found..elvis is handsome, about 15 with a shy grin that shows wonderful white teeth. his nose is pointed and hair short like all the other boys and by lunch time he puts on a clean cerulean blue tracksuit, which it his uniform for school... he understands a little english, the key to success here, and i ask him where we should go for the guitar.... he knows exactly...and away we go up the street in the direction of the ´real´´ peruvian markets which somewhat frighten me.. there we are .. the touristy white woman with four teenagers walking sketchy streets gabbing away in some version of english-spanish sentences..

it seems the city is divided into places to shop, and only a peruvian would know that the streets we were about to enter were full of music shops. they appear like all the other streets.. just coloured doors that open into shops full of instruments... some with beautiful instruments and some not.. i am hoping that elvis will negotiate and find something perfect and the best deal for our money but i learn very quickly that he is just 15..so this won't happen.. not knowing if the boys have ever been in a music shop or not, they have free reign to strum and pluck and touch any guitar they want and the shopkeepers do not put up any fight..and are hence encouraged to make a choice. we go from one shop to another and then another... this one is full of everything.. one side holds beautiful guitars inside glass cases... violins, drums, and a wall of moderately priced guitars in all different woods and strung with nylon or steel strings..like the floors and walls, they are not perfect.. most have very wide necks and are thick to wrap your hand around but elvis finds one with nylon strings and passes it to the shop keeper to tune.. he works away with it and hands it back to elvis who settles onto an old couch with modern electric looking worn fabric...i ask him for a song and he plays away, modestly ending the song short and handing the guitar on to Jean-Paul.... then Jean-Paul plunks away and then i try it out...... it´s ok.. so we try to make a deal .. which is not taken... 170sols including the case.. a free pick and it´s a deal... i open up my packsack and pull out some money... 40 sols..... in the dictionary 100sols... in change...let´s see 9 sols... not leaving enough for a cab home .. that´s ok.... even without the extra money they wil not budge... tourist.. are you happy guys? everybody?? is it good enough elvis? yes... they all want an electric...

we head home with guitar in box and it transported from kid to kid en route to what is home for them and now very familiar to me... at the orphanage we are greeted with the little guys, and the new boys , who were lovingly called ´rangatangs´´ who are beginning to settle and are starting to understand that being mean or rough isn't ok around me or to pounce on me from behind....already the tape is being torn off the box while a key is being hunted down.. then...into the dining room we go, key in Jean-Paul´s hand and onward to the piano layered in covers.. whooooshh.. off go the covers and the final tape gets torn away.. immediately the piano bench is taken over with boys waiting turns to play... dirty yellow plastic lawn chairs are stacked in the corner so quickly i grab a few and set them around the piano. the chairs for the dining room are wooden school house type chairs and these are perfect for guitar playing so i take one of them into the circle...

here guys... one at a time each boy gets a try at the guitar... i teach them that frets belong with certain fingers and each boy, big and small learns exactly the same thing... glory moments...

glory moments...

too big for most bodies, the guitar sits like a giant onto little knees.. small arms stretch to reach the end of the neck and tiny fingers struggle to find the single note needed for G7chord and c and g... i invent some song and sing it for each kid, physically moving their fingers to find the chords.. it is joy in action.. their faces beam as they delight in the discovery of self made sound. i am surprised by the magnificient ryhthm most of them already have and to my delight no one cares that they have no idea what they are doing.. ... da,da,daaaaaaa,,dadada, aaaaadad ada dadadad daaaaaaaaaaaa.aaaaaa
each little guy gets long time on the guitar and their patience is astounding! wow!!
in the background ¨frere jacques´is the song of choice on the piano. heaven knows where that came from.


the joy i want to share with you is in the video that is attached to this letter. check the fingers! this little guy has a mom who is too poor to support him, and a brother as well who lives here. he is absolutely a dream boy, as is his brother.. polite with sparkly eyes.. take a listen and you will get why this has been a perfect day.

(i have just tried ot download the video and it has failed, so instead here are some pictures of the day.. elvis the guitar man, jean-paul beside him, the gang ,americo in deep concentration, gabriel (strong little rangatang with great musical natural rhythm) and the dream guitar player with the chubby hands. i may be able to get the video on the blog..will try.. it is pure joy!)




le falto todo muchos y mi corazón se calienta cuando consigo letras de usted. ¡gracias, Patricia y norman para el cuidado cariñoso usted está dando tugs… increíbles! y kate y tony para el amor para arriba de los gatitos. ¡usted toda la roca! huuggggggggggs y kkiissssssesss. los grandes… mamá del amor, yo…