An Andes Reenact-mint: Sounds of Silence and Knowing Community

The other day, I walked the 1-hour-15-minute climb uphill to the Pumamarca school. I carry an iPod around with me a lot of the times, and I assumed this would be one of those times that I would stick the buds in and feel like I was in a movie, as I do so many times while wondering downtown Cuzco, blasting Coldplay into my ears as I am convinced Cuzco was a recording spot or inspiration for Viva La Vida. But today, I didn't.

And I am so glad for that. If I would have, I would have missed out. A full hour of almost pure silence in the Andes would have been a lost opportunity forever. It would have been a much more self-centered experience. I would have only known the wind by it hitting my face rather than hearing it move the eucalyptus trees. Drums and guitar I could listen to anytime would have overshadowed the birds' morning songs. I would have nearly run into the donkeys into the road instead of hearing their chewing and shuffling on the dirt road, alerting me I would need to move around them.

Sometimes it is exhilarating to hear your own breathing, your own heart beat, your own foot steps. While being surrounded by green you swear could swallow you up, you gain that tingly feeling of life, of being alive. We don't take much time to do this or always have hills upon mountains to witness such budding and growing and natural splendor. 

I got to hear quiet greetings as men and women walked soundlessly down the street, carrying rustling loads of vegetables. A little girl on the side of the road looked up, smiled, and said, "Amiga." Who would I have been if I had been plugged in? Women chatted with each other and men whistled as they worked the fields. My favorite sound was as I turned a sharp corner to come to an overlook across miles and miles of green land and yellow flowers, and I heard the clucking of chickens and a small boy's tender voice saying, "cook, cook" as he tried to move the chickens to their pen. 

One of the volunteers, Tyson, was talking about the sense of community he felt while in these villages. Each person knows everyone and is willing to sacrifice a little from themselves in order to serve the greater community. There aren't TVs, computers, video games, iPods, etc. to take us away from celebrating our neighbors and our human kindredness. And we all have heard it before in third-world countries. "The people were so poor, but they were just so happy!" Tyson talked about how we watch crime on the news, sit in front of computers, care about money and drive cars with four empty seats in them and then "come home wondering why we are so miserable." 

"Without wanting to romanticise being on the edge of poverty," he said, "I envy a simple way of life that relies on sharing, cooperation and close units in order to function effectively." They probably wouldn't dream of walking their own streets with an iPod to block out the tangible world right there. In a life of not many material values or screens, sounds or "luxuries" of lonely spaces, community is their greatest possession. It is easy to see why these people are so happy.  

One Village in a Huge World

A very interesting article on the vast amount of impoverished people in third-world countries, the fires they use throughout the day, these effects on our environment and just another reason to fight these circumstances : NYT reports

Here's to the chimney building. 

A Little More In Focus

The week in Urubamba was absolutely stunning. I came back to my desk in Cuzco feeling refreshed, exhausted from pressing one little button Tuesday through Thursday and simply inspired. Some of the realizations I am left with are as follows: 

• Jane and Selvy, as mentioned in the previous post, are an unbelievable couple. They have so much love for other people and each other and deserved the best day to celebrate that love and their hard work. I hope it was. Just meeting their families and friends solidified this even more, and I am so thankful for all who I met. 
• It is absolutely amazing that so many family members and friends could be there; about 20 Australians flew over for a week, and Selvy's family from Lima all came. The fact that they were all gathered in the same yard made both the bride and groom cry as they thanked all for making such efforts to come. 
• Culture clash should be part of our lives more. I rode a tuk-tuk early that morning with the bridesmaids to Jane's hotel and place of preparation. Everything throughout the ceremony was said in both languages. We had Australians trying to speak Spanish (el baaan-yo) and Peruvians trying to speak English (what's a dunny?), a Peruvian nut-flavoured cake underneath Jane's favorite chocolate cake, traditional drums and pipes followed by "Land Down Under" or Jason Mraz, Pisco Sours or Cranberry vodkas. 
• I miss my guy friends. Selvy's groomsmen were hilarious to be around and salsa with, and I left thinking, wow, my guy friends are men I truly respect and enjoy being around. 
• Dancing is pretty great. Twinkle lights under twinkling stars, salsa music and a ready-to-go crowd makes me feel alive. And there is a new favorite song. Another reason cultures should clash more.  
• I loved photographing a wedding. Instead of just seeming nosy and obsessive about asking about all of the little details of the dress, hotel, jewelry, flowers, etc., I had to capture each of these things. Scurrying around trying to document each moment was a rush and made me appreciate the finer details. Making everyone stop, slow down and smile on such a crazy day turned out wonderfully. 

To see a few of the photos I took from Jane and Selvy's wedding, please visit my Flickr site. There are many, many more photos, so check for updates. Thank you, Keith, for everything. :) 

A Few Love Stories

In a few minutes, I shall head off to the beautiful Sacred Valley to celebrate (and photograph) the Peru's Challenge founders' (Jane and Selvy) wedding. Their story is one for the books, and it is much better to hear her tell the long version while he sums it up in three sentences; my admiration for their passions, dedication and just love for people in general -- all as a couple -- is swelling as we approach a day that has been in the making for going on eight years now. I don't know many couples whose single love story revolves around so many other love stories.

Jane came from Australia in 2002 to South America, eager to explore this side of the world before heading off to Europe. Peru was one more pinpoint on a map before she flew over the midland mountains and into Cuzco. Cuzco grabbed her and didn't let go. She decided to stay a bit longer. A bit longer turned into Jane not wanting to go to Europe immediately, but, before she left, her friend made Jane get an apartment, a job and Spanish lessons all before they parted, leaving Jane merrily on the cobblestone streets somewhere between cathedrals and alpacas. 

I think I long to feel that feeling, that surge of knowing, of a wind that seems to be sprinkled with magic and whispering "stay." With that, Jane taught English and learned Spanish, all in an apartment complex surrounding a courtyard. One day, over eggs and bacon, a man walked into her open door. "I thought, he's cute," she'll say. Enter Selvy Ugaz, a man from Lima who was working in Cuzco with impoverished children, especially those born with disabilities. He had bribed a taxi driver to take him to his apartment on a day of transportation strike, so needed to pay up, but he only had US Dollars, since he had just arrived from England and had no local currency, and could he maybe borrow some Soles? Of course. With that, he asked if he could take Jane out that night to show her around. "The rest is history," she says. 

There was (and is) love. And Jane went to work with Selvy, falling in love with him and the children who they helped every day. When Selvy asked Jane to take a boy home after school, she knocked on a door that was answered by an intoxicated aunt who was quick to take the boy and put him in an outhouse. "How could you make me do that," she asked Selvy. She loves Peru; there is more to it than the pretty mountain side and historic monuments, he wanted to show. That is love. 

And so Jane fell in love with the man, the children, the country and the idea that she and Selvy could make a pretty good team when it comes to serving. They pushed past obstacles concerning finances, language, government and red tape for 1 1/2 years to create Peru's Challenge, challenging and perfecting their love, all the while creating something new from it: an organization that allows them to keep loving, keep helping, keep providing, keep learning, keep growing. Maybe every couple should have to work on something like this, working with each other to serve, before they move on. It tests everything but probably gives back even more. 

They can both speak each other's language practically fluently, but that doesn't guarantee their conversation will stay in one language. She thinks he drives crazy, and he thinks she is too planned. He thinks she is funny and has gorgeous eyes, and she's simply nuts over his intelligence and passions. She might flip over a rut with the organization, and he is the one to make it right. And so on a beautiful April day in the Andes, Australians and Peruvians will celebrate this love, these accomplishments that have sprung from it and just the mere ability for us to be able to give so much love in so many different forms: a new classroom for 30 children, a hot meal for a family, a fight for government recognition, an open home for travelers, a kiss, a promise, a life shared. I see their love for each other and places in each other's lives, but have experienced what their relationship has shared with so many others, from impoverished communities to volunteers from around the world, and have therefore seen this unselfish love and am thankful for their presence in my life. 

French Inspirations

Today I had the pleasure of sitting in a balcony above the Plaza with three guys my age from France. We talked about how the sun shined, how San Blas has particularly gorgeous views, what we wanted to order for a mid-morning drink and how to change the world. 

Quentin, Martin and Killian, engineers by study, have stopped off in Cuzco from a trip around the world. "Youth shakes the world, three students go round it," they say. Throughout these three friends' studies and travels, they have noticed an impeccable trend; today's youth has dreams and acts on them toward a better good. Today's youth takes action and gives time and energy towards a cause. It's inspiring, they say. So upon graduation, feeling the looming pressures of finding a job, the guys decided they wanted to travel the world before any type of settling down, but they wanted to do it with purpose, with an outcome. They created Youth Planet. 

The guys travel the world and see the sights, but, in most cities and definitely in each country, they meet up with people serving for a common good--in NGOs or cleaning the environment or any way of acting on a vision. They write articles about these projects and ideas and spread them as they travel the world, taking an idea from Ghana and suggesting it to a similar organization in Bolivia. They want to show youth in action. They want to promote the exchange of proactive ideas through the single idea of us all helping each other out. They want to see the world and the good in it. 

I told them about Peru's Challenge - probably talked their ears off, actually. But sitting there with these new friends who are so interested in projects such as this, who are looking for passion and sweat and broken hearts and the remedies, I can't help but let the facts and goals spill. And I was eager to hear about other organizations they had talked to and if those would want to partner up with us and where I could find these guys on a map next. 

It's a pretty cool idea--traveling the world to, one, figure out the issues others face, the devastating facts and dire situations and two, see how people are stepping up to challenge those facts. You'd come back with a lot more than some good photos. 

Para la Mama, Con el Amor

Hi Mom;

I was having a think about moms today and missed you from so far away through admiring those mothers right here. That reminder of missing is everywhere: the bus, Pumamarca, the market, the streets. The eyes of the mothers here are on tired faces but still twinkle when they hold little hands and wipe little tears; in these glances and obvious sacrifices, I see my mom, too.

The mothers here work hard; they need to be able to provide for their children (and families are large) and care for them all day, but things like food and clothes are hard to come by, and childcare is mostly out of the question. So you often see mothers, in their top hats and worn sandals, carrying a box of empanadas or fruit cups on their fronts, and they have a colorful bundle on their backs. If you watch carefully, little hands and curious eyes peek from behind these blankets and grab at their mothers hair or whine for her attention. It's a heavy load to to put on one's back all day--up hills and past tourists not buying their products--but the mothers carry their babies; that is what mothers selflessly do.  

In Pumamarca, Peru's Challenge has helped the community set up a Mother's Workshop called Talleres (workshop). It's here because some mothers have 10-12 kids. It's here because some mothers are abused by their husbands. It's here because some mothers have taken to alcohol. It's here because otherwise mothers would be strewn strictly to the identity of their husband and his crops and her role to her children. It's here so mothers can feel community, independence and pride, too. 

At Talleres, women meet, have lessons on a craft and then sit together, talk and work diligently on beautiful products--scarves, sweaters, hats, blankets, etc. Peru's Challenge then has tour groups come through to peruse these colorful, handmade items and let visitors purchase at their own will. Please don't feel obligated to buy, we say. Just having you look and comment on their work gives them pride and encouragement. When there are purchases, part of the money goes into a kitty, part goes towards materials and part goes directly to the seller. This workshop gives women a chance to become friends and share about their lives and gain confidence and pride in their own work, a work they can feel appreciation for as opposed to the undying dependence of their children, unnoticed expectancy of work in the fields and sometimes inferior feeling to the men. Domestic violence and alcoholism still exist in the community, but it has greatly decreased with newfound communication and educational sessions on the issues. Mothers have a lot to worry about. 

 At the end of the year, the kitty money from Talleres is used for something that will makeyou smile, Mom. Each mother gets a Christmas hamper--usually 15-20 kg (35ish lbs.) with a fresh turkey so that she can give her family a Christmas dinner. Before, Christmas dinner didn't really happen. The past two years, there has even been money left over. In 2007, they decided to hike Machu Picchu, and they were the first in the community to do this important trek. 

This past December, the mothers decided the money should go toward a health campaign for pap smears and complete coverage for their children. They want to provide. And by being able to provide something for their children and families, they are providing confidence and pride for themselves. They deserve at least that. 

These sacrifices and the beyond-understanding love are things that go across international boundaries. I know you work and love hard too, Mom. It might not be in the fields or figuring out if we can eat today or literally putting us in colorful blankets on your back, but you still carry us. In the same way these mothers carefully, tightly wrap their children and hold them close, your words, support, sacrifices, sweat and love have nurtured us and held us close, made us colorful. I think the moms here would love you because you are electric and understand their sacrifices and know love. And I love you, too. 

xo, Lu

When We Dream Together - Please Vote

These are the little things that work. You see, all of our dreams, in one way or another, weave together. Today I got an email from Lucas, a person I have never met and who I don't know anything about. But here I am, writing about him and encouraging all to help him out because we have some similar interests, similar goals. His outlet for this is photography and mine is simply being here with Peru's Challenge. But we have an opportunity to work together towards a goal of learning about and perhaps helping the people who lives miles above us in the mountains. 

Lucas is chasing a dream of photographing the people of the mountains, those who are born with lungs to breathe in the altitude, those who work every day in fields and those who have vanishing communities. This interesting perspective and dream could come true if he wins the most votes for the Name Your Dream Assignment, a contest that gives the winner $50,000 to complete the dream assignment, like photographing those living in the mountains. Lucas wants to come to the Andes and see the communities we work in and document them. If he wins, he will donate some of the prize money to helping these communities. And that last part is a bit of my dream. I can guarantee you more opportunities and financial support make up the dream bubbles that float in and out of the huts and schools in places such as Pumamarca, bubbles that have too often been poked and popped. 

The pictures here would be beautiful, and the help of Lucas would be greatly appreciated. If you have a few seconds, please click here and vote for Lucas so we can all contribute to his dream and the dreams of so many others. It only take a few seconds and could just be a simple way you help today. 

That was a click here. Thank you and let me know of your dreams, too.