Pachacama

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We have started our first project. First it was necessary to fight our way out of Lima. There are no lanes apparently, though they are clearly marked, the taxi drivers ignore them completely. I have returned to my habit of closing my eyes every time a collision seems unavoidable, and that seems to do the trick. All is well when I open them again. We left Lima and the road began to climb into the impossibly dry, dusty, rocky landscape around us. The pavement was certainly worse as we progressed, and the government has thoroughly solved the problem of speeding by using speed bumps lavishly. It’s hard to believe people can live in this arid landscape, but they do. On every horrifically unfriendly rockpile of a mountain, small wooden crates testify to people needing a place of their own. These crates are sold as flat panels along the road, only slightly bigger than a fence panel, four of them make a house. This is surprising, since all the building tradition here is cement and blocks.

Santa Martha is a private foundation for children that currently houses 75 children, from babies through teens. It was obviously built for a much larger number, as there are buildings and rooms not being used. We were quickly assigned groups, I’m with the 3 & 4 year olds, Dave is with the teen boys, and Lisa with the pre-teen girls. Luckily there are other volunteers who could fill us in on the most important details, like the fact that we need to buy our own toilet paper, bottled water and laundry soap. Our Spanish is just not up to following the rapid instructions and explanations that happen to us and around us. The first afternoon was a trip to the river, complete with the dogs of the foundation, there are four or five of them. Big, dirty, friendly. They keep away the other dogs. The river is a surprise, and the reason this valley has agriculture and trees. Along it’s banks are garbage and guineapig skins. It’s fairly obvious what it is you’re looking at, because they are skinned, with the heads on.

The kids had a great time in the water, but we avoided it. Not a welcoming waterway. And little biting flies plagued us, leaving welts that look like measles. Over dinner, my little kids fell asleep over their dinners. Actually, they fall asleep over most meals.



Spanish is a problem for all of us, we are certainly not able to understand thing all the time. But we are picking up important stuff, like the difference between ‘cola’ -tail and ‘culo’ – bum. I couldn’t understand why the kids were being told to get their tails in the lineup, or into the chair!

Meals are pretty good for a place in a developing country that houses abused and orphaned kids. Bread made here, and hot milk/oatmeal/sugar drinks for brekkie, lunch is huge, rice, potatoes, stewed meat, salad, (which we shouldn’t eat) and a soup.

Dinner is left overs, or a soup made from the leftovers The foundation is a huge farm, and fruit trees grow everywhere. That makes our juices, from boiling fruit so it’s safe to drink. Of course we’ve never seen the fruits before, and couldn’t repeat their names. Maybe we know a few from Ecuador, but not many.

I have the most physical work, with laundry, cleaning, hauling children around. But the hours are good, they all go to bed early. And there are only twelve kids in my area and two huge dorms. There are three on one side, in single beds, and 9 on my side. I have a bunk bed, with stuffies on the top (don’t touch!)

Lisa is in a room stuffed with bunk beds, and tween girls, 22 people in one dorm room! Dave has something similar, but I think they split them up this week, to try to wrestle control back from the teen boys who were getting a little hard to control. Dave has started a trumpet training group, and they spent a day buzzing with their lips only, then a few days with the mouthpiece only. I don’t think I’ve heard them use the trumpet itself yet. But he uses it to wake them up with reveille at 6:15.

The kids do the cleaning, and this place is a little fanatical about it. They clean everything multiple times a day, the halls, stairs, the patios. Brooms and mops galore. Sometimes they shower 2 or 3 times a day. Clothing gets washed every day, and so on.

Every pavilion, or group of kids has a lady in charge, and usually older teens to, though the kids ignore them pretty much. We only heard a few of the kids stories, but almost all of them have at least one sibling here with them. There are visiting times on the weekend, and parents and grandparents come and go. Some of them are here just because their family did too much hitting, some have parents in prison, or missing, some have no parents.

I’ve seen one of my boys go home, though there was no explanation to me.

Other than that, we’ve visited the Pachacamac ruins, which are pretty impressive. And then we went to the beach which was bizarre. Totally packed with umbrellas, tables, chairs and little kids wading pools, We didn’t understand that until we got near the water. The breakers were huge. I’ve certainly never experienced a beach as crowded. People stood and let the smaller waves roll around them. We saw one kid get caught in a roller, and trying repeatedly to swim in, but he got hit with wave after wave. The entire beach started shouting, and the lifeguard on a jetski out past the breakers came and picked him up. It was very clear that you’d be pulled out to sea and have no chance if he wasn’t there.

Well, that’s enough for now!



Ciao

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