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

The Road to Education

This might be a long one, but this dusty road to proper education is longer and too important to disregard.  

When Peru's Challenge first started out, Jane and Selvy wandered into the mountains to find a community, Picol, that had a school. This school had one classroom. Inside of this classroom were 12 children, running around and dirty, not being taught by a single teacher--a man who was drunk. 

This school, along with 600 others, had just been abandoned by the Department of Education because the schools were seen as poor and hopeless and unattended, and the Dept. doesn't have the funding or resources to waste. You see, in these mountains, there is an evil cycle. The Department leaves the school, and the parents in the community see no reason to send their kids to a school that isn't supported when the children could be working in the fields. Therefore barely any children show up to the school, and the Department of Education nods their heads and says, "see?"

Peru's Challenge addressed the community and, in a little under three years, had built six classrooms for 170 children and six teachers. Eventually, the organization came to Pumamarca, where there was also one classroom that had a ceiling about to fall in and no windows, door or floor. Jane and Selvy went to the Department, asking for their support and were quickly denied. You can't change the community of Pumamarca. You can't get 100 kids to go to school there. If we can, Jane and Selvy asked, will you support us? Laugh, chuckle, sure. 

At a community meeting, it was decided Peru's Challenge would pay 10 fathers to work on building the school. Also, Peru's Challenge would buy all of the materials from the community. On the first day of building, every person in the community showed up with willing hands and said, do not pay us for our labor, only for materials. They wanted their kids in a school. Within three weeks, there were two classrooms. Jane and Selvy knocked on doors with a banana as a gift, asking if the parents would send their children to school--where they would be looked after and fed. On the first day of school, 140 kids showed up with ready minds and an eager energy. The Department of Education now didn't have a choice. 

Today in Pumamarca, there are now seven classrooms- each brightly painted and decorated with art the students have made. 150 children, kindergarten through Grade 6, attend, each class with its own teacher. Peru's Challenge used to pay for four teachers' salaries, while the department covered the rest but now is only paying for two.  The children, who before were coming to school having had a cup of tea, now get a small breakfast, fresh fruit three times a week and a hot meal for lunch. There are two kitchens that mothers work in to make these meals; they bring food from their homes, use the vegetables from the school's multiple gardens and use eggs from the school's own chicken coop. Self-sustainability is key. 

I go up to these schools and see children in the classrooms perfecting the cursive G and taking turns with the jump ropes. They know English phrases and sit in desks where they get their own pencil and notebook. At PE, they would rather skip and play futbol than our silly relay races. They brush their teeth at the new sinks with filtered water and can excuse themselves to use a proper toilet. The teachers make them mind their manners and stand in line. It's school, just like what I would expect, except I wasn't surrounded by mountains and green when I jumped rope on a playground. And it breaks my heart because these kids love to go to summer school. And it breaks my heart to think of what school used to be like for them and still is like two communities over. That community is farther down the road, but definitely still in our sight, and children retaining a proper education makes it worth traveling down.

*Thank you, Jane, for help with this information.

(Pumamarca School)

An Andes Reenact-mint: Welcome to Pumamarca

On the way to the sky, there is a village. 

It is not easy to tell; there isn't a "Welcome, this many people live here" sign or a high-rise that boldly establishes the village as somewhere important. The houses are hidden behind neighboring valleys or thick green eucalyptus branches, but you know people live there because fields are neatly kept and women walk, carrying what looks like half of these fields on their backs. And you know it is a village because these people smile and welcome you to it, and that is all I need for anywhere to be established.

Welcome to Pumamarca. There are 200 families that live here, and each family has an average of six kids. It is quite common for three generations of the family to be under one roof. Also under this one roof are no other rooms, chairs, tables or beds. The family usually sleeps where they cook the food; that heat is necessary when it gets to -20 degrees C in those mountains that are too high to block winter winds. You just have to tolerate the cold as part of your surroundings; the windows aren't closed in and there isn't a door, so your home needs to mold into Mother Nature's arms--whether comforting and mild, soaked from a shower or stand-offish and bitter, biting cold. 

There is a family in Pumamarca with six kids, two parents and a grandmother, and they all sleep in one double bed using clothes as blankets. They don't have a chimney, so they breathe in that wood oven 24/7. 

Each of these families is in charge of 2-3 plots of land. Now, these plots are not owned by the family, but by the community, so they cannot be sold. Families sell their products in the market, earning S/ 10-15 (US$ 3-5) per week, but it costs to get to the market and back, so make S/ 2 disappear. 

In Pumamarca, you will not find a piece of machinery. Instead, you will find worn and weathered hands that are strong, defiant and don't know what a "day off" means. 

A few years ago, a person trying to win an election made electricity available here for a price most families wouldn't even make in a month. So we can stare at the wires, but we don't know what they do. Some families illegally connect, but those people who wanted to put light bulbs here quickly come and disconnect them. 

The water that doesn't run into houses for taps, showers, toilets, etc. has been tested. It is over 200 times the safe-drinking level, but it is what is available to drink. Everyone knows the human body needs water. 

There are a lot of stories here in Pumamarca, whistling in the cutting mountain wind and slicing the long blades of grass in the fields. Some are joyous and many are not, but right now in Pumamarca is a lot better than three years ago, a success story for another time. 

And right now in Pumamarca, school reopened for the soon-to-come fall, and there are children--more children in school than ever before-- waiting in new desks with new pencils, papers and hope. These are children whose stories aren't quite definite yet in whether they are going to shoot for the sky that literally seems within their grasp or stick to the ground where the water runs dirty. Their eyes look to combine ancient traditions of colors and hard work with literacy, art and feeling loved, and are hopefully looking up to where the birds soar; I have come here to help because I climb up the steepest heights to Pumamarca to see how close these kids are to the sky and a just-as-bright future. 

There is a village on the way to the sky.