Lifes A Trip

The year was somewhere in the mid 1960’s. I was a kid, and we had a green paper bag that held  “kitchen string” in a drawer in the kitchen. The bag contained several small hanks of white and red twisted cotton, which came from cake boxes from Dorzbacher’s Bakery on Flushing Avenue. On very special occasions my family would get a cheese danish twist or crumb cake from Dorzbacher’s. And when one of these magical boxes arrived in our house, I would wait with great anticipation as my dad would very, very carefully un-knot that string, wind it up, and add it to the kitchen string in the paper bag in the drawer, to be re-used at some future date.

OK, This was 1976, but the cake and string were the same

Fast forward thirty years. It is the mid-1990’s and I am sitting in a cute cottage in De Haan, Belgium, with my young family and dear friends, Lee and Alex. Alex is a retired Colonel from the U.S. military, working at NATO. He is married to his lovely bride of many, many years, Lee, who was born in Czechoslovakia.  During World War II, Lee’s family had to flee their home with only the clothes on their backs. The family eventually settled in Austria, where they rebuilt everything from scratch. I have a long history with Lee and Alex – and their generosity is overwhelming. So, that day, sitting in their cottage, I am struck with a sense of first annoyance, then awe, as Lee very, very carefully unwraps the gift we have brought her from the United States. It seems to take painfully long as she carefully cuts the tape on the package so as not to rip the pretty wrapping paper. She then takes the paper and folds it up, carefully matching the corners, walks across the room, and places it in a drawer which holds all sorts of used treasures – to be used again at some future date.

Reunion with Lee And Alex this past summer

Now, here I am in Perú. It is 2012. My dear husband is visiting for Christmas. What joy! We have a tiny little Christmas tree, and a few small gifts to exchange. He has carefully packed a few beautifully wrapped gifts in his suitcase. As we begin to open our gifts, I find myself taking, oh, so much time to carefully, very carefully, cut the tape on the packages with a knife, so as not to damage the wrapping. Floods of memories of Lee come back to me as I carefully fold the paper and then, I feel the presence of my dad, as I put it in a special drawer for safekeeping. Oh my. I suddenly understand. I mean I really understand a whole other side of these people have been a big part of my life.

Living in a small village in Perú, we do not have much. It is difficult to find things to buy. The two sheets of cheap wrapping paper that Ana and I used to wrap our Christmas gifts came from a 2 hour trek (each way)  to the city of Cusco. So, when we were presented with beautiful, heavy, colorful paper, it was such a treasure to me. I later used the paper to wrap gifts for my mom that my husband brought back to the States with him. Later that day, I nearly hit the roof when my husband went to wrap up an open package of yeast to keep it from spilling. He had found my precious little roll of aluminum foil, and ripped off a huge (to me) sheet. “Oh my gosh! Do you know how much that foil costs? And how hard it is to get? Please, put the foil back, and use a little piece of tape instead…” These occurrences are now so common to me. I am so used to  scraping,  conserving, improvising and going without that I don’t even notice it anymore – until someone from the States visits.

We have no hot water - so I "cook" my dirty dish towels on our cook stove to wash

Ana has also been positively affected. Both my husband and friends brought us some maple syrup during their visits. The jars are sooooo precious, as it is impossible to get maple syrup in Perú. We opened the first one yesterday, during a special good-bye breakfast for our beloved volunteer Rachel. Ana carefully monitored everyone’s use of the syrup – “Mom, I thought you were not really a fan of syrup – do you really need to have that much?” In my defense, it was about a tablespoon’s worth, and, yes, even though I almost never use syrup at home, ah….. it is wonderful to get a little taste of ‘normal’ food from the States once in awhile.

Ana Doing Her Laundry

My grandparents were immigrants from Poland, all arriving on ships through Ellis Island at the beginning of the 20th Century. My parents lived through the Great Depression, not always knowing where their next meal was coming from. Lee had to leave all of her possessions and live in the woods, hiding from the Nazis during the war. Her family eventually re-built their lives from nothing. Back home, in the States, I really don’t want for anything. I am fortunate in that my husband and I are educated and have had very good jobs. We have a nice home and can take vacations. Yes, we have had tough years when I was at home raising the kids and he was a new teacher – and we had to watch our pennies. But lately, it is usually not a stretch for us to stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for a coffee on a Saturday. Or to go to the movies – or to pretty much throw anything we desire into our shopping cart at Stop and Shop. Decisions in the States range on the order of “Brie or Gorgonzola”? Now, my life has changed. We are down to one income, with two households. Even though the cost of living here in Perú is much lower, we now are maintaining life on two continents with about half the income. So, of course, I do weigh the choices on taking a jam-packed local combi to Cusco for 7.30 Soles ($2.70) each or a direct van for 10 Soles ($3.70) OR share a private car for 15 Soles ($5.60). The private car never wins – except when we have guests from the States who remind me that they just paid that much for a cup of Starbucks last week. The luxury of any cheese other than home-made from the mountains, only comes with a trip to Cusco – and a hefty price tag – and, still is usually a mystery as to the type that it actually is. The snippets of string, the pieces of gift paper, cardboard boxes… are prized possessions that we treat with care and respect.

Now, where was the Brie?

The values that were of importance to a generation gone by have come back to roost. As I gain a new respect for how precious things are when you don’t have much, I am happy. I listen to my husband tell me through our Skype calls about the huge trashcans of untouched food in his school cafeteria at lunchtime, and am saddened that most children back home don’t appreciate what they have. But how can they, if they have experienced nothing else? I listen in anguish as I hear my son’s response when I relate my agonizing decision on whether or not to buy  bus tickets to visit some friends  for the weekend – “Mom, I spent more than that on lunch today.” Yes, I saw by example from my grandparents, parents and older friends another way – a simpler life filled with appreciation. But, I never really,really appreciated this lesson until I have had to live it myself. And for the fact that I have experienced it myself, I am grateful. I just hope that I remember it when I get back home.

So……. what is this program all about, anyway?  When the project began, I think the original thought was to provide the girls with a safe place to stay during the week, so that they could attend school. Easy, right? Well – ummmmm, not exactly. As the program progressed, everyone realized that it was a little more complicated than that. The reason? Well, all of the girls came from different communities and had different educational backgrounds. Most had been taught in one-room mud ‘school’ buildings – one teacher for all grade levels. So, needless to say, they all have different ‘holes’ in their learning.

John and the Girls Hard at Work

One focus that we’ve had this year is on Math. We’ve been extremely fortunate in that we have a bonafide math teacher from the U.S. volunteering with us this semester. His name is John Mauro. John’s been doing an outstanding  job with the girls, not only tutoring them in their homework, but in trying to catch them up with all of the elementary stuff that they’re missing. The huge problem, though, is that it’s hard to teach algebra when the foundations of working with fractions or multiplication tables are missing. The homework that the girls get is well, just plain ridiculous. It can cover 10 different advanced topics, none of which they seem to have learned in the classroom. And, although John does an excellent job trying to teach each new topic on the homework, their basic skills are just really lacking. That’s where we come in.

Just a little math

About 10 years ago, my son Jacob started a non-profit organization, Computer for Communities, which provides technology and training to people that typically can’t afford it. Over the years, we’ve done all sorts of programs – from in-home computer donation and training, to prison programs and city-wide Internet access and after-school inner-city technology programs. Needles to say, we have quite a bit of experience in using technology to help people in all sorts of situations. What a perfect fit! Through CFC, we raised some cash to bring brand new laptops down, and set up an awesome computer lab for the girls.

Jake Showing the Girls Some Cool Technology

Although we are in a non-permanent space, the laptops really are the ticket in this developing country. We can charge them when we have power, and they can run on battery. We don’t have to worry about drawing too much current at one time, with monitors and desktops and whatnot. And…. if there’s no power – which happens all too often – no worries! We can still use the lab.

Just Working Away!

As part of my job of working on after-school curriculum, I have found an awesome, awesome online program that works perfectly for our situation. It is called ALEKS. With ALEKS, we have given each girl an initial assessment test (I chose 3rd grade level.) The program then identifies any areas (128 topics at that level) that are not mastered, and creates individual tutoring and testing for each girl. The girls can actually see and track their own progress on a pie chart – talk about motivation! They absolutely love doing the program – and beg to spend more time on it! In addition, we can access lots of cool reports that show us their progress, areas of mastery and deficiency – great for John to set up group classroom teaching topics! Anyway, it may seem like I am gushing about this program – but, well, I guess I am! We have seen such strides and improvement in the girls in the 2 months that they have been trying it out…. not only in their math skills, but in their responsibility level for their own learning, that it really makes me feel like we are accomplishing a huge amount.

Loving Math!

Another educational program I’ve introduced is a much broader, cross-cultural curriculum. The idea is to have our girls work together with “sister schools” in the U.S., or anywhere else that is not Peru. So far, we have two groups of students, one from Conserve School, and the other that my good friend Annie has set up, with students that are mostly from Brown University. Sister schools exchange letters with our girls (in Spanish). Since our cultures are centuries apart, students on both ends discuss things about their daily lives, living conditions, music, family life, etc. We follow up with discussion on our end, so our girls learn more about the world. Students on the first world side learn more about what it’s like to live in a developing country, as well as about local traditions and culture. And, ALL students get to practice their Spanish! As the program develops, we will add in Skyping from our new computer lab. So far, it’s been a win-win for everyone. As the program develops, we may even be able  to get some financial support from our sister schools – if kids decide to do fundraisers, like sales of alpaca wool hats. Anyway, it is turning into an awesome program – with a lot of excitement on both sides.

Fancy Letter from Anita to her PenPal

One last note on education – the supplementary work that we are doing with the girls in the after-school program is way too important. The support that they need to succeed in school is huge, as the schools that they attend typically have over 40 students in a classroom – with one teacher and no aids. ‘Nuf said. I’m not going to get all philosophical on you – as I think you can see the enormous strides we are making. We had girls from mountain communities, where their education stopped in 6th grade. We now have girls that are communicating – not in Quechua, but in Spanish – with students from around the globe. We now have girls that are learning to use modern technology to learn. They are REALLY learning skills that my kids had access to when they were in elementary school. They are continuing their education – supported – through high school.  The opportunities that will be available to them have multiplied exponentially. What’s next? It’s their choice. But at least they now have options.

This is a classroom at the high school

Our Fall Fundraising Campaign is drawing to a close on IndieGoGo – only 3 days left! Click here to find out more about what we’re doing (there’s a cool little movie we did about the program), and feel free to donate a few dollars…. You can even get a neat alpaca reward, to keep or give as a gift!

The town of Ollantaytambo, where I live, is  9,250 feet above sea level. Sound impressive? Well let’s see…. in the U.S, the town that I live in,  in the foothills of the Berkshire Mountains, is at an altitude of a whopping 801 ft. And, where my dear son is at University, is all of 50 ft. So, yes, I’d say, it’s impressive. However……… we are in a valley. Hence the name. (Sacred Valley – for those of you new here.) So, needless to stay, we are living at a pretty high altitude. It takes most visitors a few days to adjust to the altitude, and pharmacies in the bigger cities of Cusco and Arequipa even sell personal cans of oxygen that you can purchase to stick in your backpack for moments of wooziness. But, my dear readers, 9,250 feet is just where our trek begins.

My last post detailed our truck ride up into Socma – one town that two of our girls live in. Socma is about 13,000 feet above sea level. So now we are really getting up there. The amazing thing is that the people who live in these mountain villages are totally self-sustainable. They farm the land and raise animals. When I think of farms, I think of huge spans of rich, flat fields. Not so in the mountains. Take a look for yourself:

Imagine Farming This Land!

The first stop in Socma was at Nohemi’s house, where we were graciously invited for dinner. We would also stay in this community for the night – in a guest house that has been set up to accommodate random travelers. The families of our girls are always thrilled to see Alex and whoever may be traveling with him. Needless to say, we were treated like royalty. You will notice that all of the houses are made from mud bricks. This is typical. Although you may see power lines in Socma, there is actually no electricity. Yet. A year or so ago, Alex created a project called “Light Up Socma” which brought power lines up to this remote village. They haven’t been turned on yet. So, the villages we visited have no electricity, no running water, certainly no indoor plumbing, and really none of the modern conveniences we are all so used to in first world countries.

Nohemi's Community

In the morning, we rose early, with the sun – as do all people in the mountains, were treated to a breakfast of oatmeal drink and tea, and headed off to our next community, Markuray. The 2 hour hike, which brought us up another 2,000 feet, was exhausting. We had only brought day packs with our sleeping bags and food, but the altitude of  15,000 feet was killing me. I still was not totally adjusted to living this high up to begin with, and trying to keep up with the ‘kids’ in the group that are 25 to 35 years younger than me was a challenge. All I could think of was the old song from Frosty the Snowman “put one foot in front of the other….” and I kept going. I could not believe that this was the hike that Maribel, the student that we were going to visit, did every weekend to get home. I need to remember this the next time I am stuck in traffic.

Yes, We Were Tired

We arrived at Maribel’s house mid-morning, where once again, we were greeted by her entire family – parents, siblings  and cousins. They had been awaiting our arrival. It is rare to see gringos in the mountain communities, and we were not just any gringos – we were accompanied by Alex – the founder of The Sacred Valley Project that has given their daughter an opportunity to become educated. Needless to say, we were treated very well.

The Kids love Alex

We were ushered into their one room mud house, where the entire family sleeps, her mom cooks over a wood fire, and they raise guinea pigs. Yes, that’s right. As we sat on the floor and had our delicious coffee, potatoes, and egg, there were guinea pigs running around our feet. Many families raise guinea pig or cuy to sell to restaurants as a delicacy. It can be a pretty good source of income.

Maribel's Mom Cooks for Us

We were also accompanied by Bianca, another founding member of The Sacred Valley Project, and a real role model for the girls.

A Humble Meal

Outside, Maribel’s father was proud to show us his plot of land that he diligently farms. He had all sorts of vegetables – potatoes, cauliflower, beans, herbs… and elderberry trees.

Maribel's House

Although it was tempting to stay longer – it was not even noon yet and I was totally exhausted, we had to push on to the next community – Ryan – where Elisabeth lives. Another hour and a half up higher into the mountains. Again, my admiration for Elisabeth and her family increased with every painful step that I took. Did she really hike this every Friday after school? The dedication of this girl and her family – to get to our dormitory every week was unfathomable to me. How can I explain this to my kids? How can I explain this to anyone back home? I don’t know. There are no roads to her community – the only one that did exist was wiped out in a landslide a few years ago. The elementary school for her community is serviced by a teacher who comes on motorcycle… sometimes. Anyway, our grueling hike to visit Elisabeth in Ryan turned up empty-handed. A neighbor told us that Elisabeth’s family was out tending their sheep. Well, I guess it was not really empty-handed. Although we did not get to meet with the family, I gained a true appreciation for the mountain people. The simple, yet physically hard life that they live.

We headed around the mountain, in search of our next family, in Pilcobamba. As we hiked, we came across a set of Incan ruins. Why were they there? Why were these families here?

Incan Ruins

Why on earth would anyone choose such a desperate place to live? I don’t know. Maybe it’s about the view. Maybe it’s because that’s where they could find land to farm…. Maybe they don’t see what the big deal is, living at 15,000 feet – the height that jet planes fly at. Maybe it’s just what they are used to. The same way that other people are just used to living in Connecticut, or New York City, or Iowa. No big deal. But I don’t know many people who roll out of bed and see a view like this….

Amazing Waterfall

Or this…..

It's All About the View

Amazing. That’s all I can say. It was mid afternoon by the time we arrived in Pilcobamba. Anita’s family had been waiting for us, and of course insisted  that we have a meal with them. Her mom had killed a chicken. This was a big deal. We were getting a little worried about the time – we still had a good 3 hour hike down the mountain to get to a road where we could hitchhike back home. But the love and gratitude of Anita’s family was so overwhelming that we had no choice but to stay and wait while the meal was prepared. After the meal, we hastily said our good-byes. Anita walked with us for about 20 minutes, to show us a shortcut to the trail back home.

The rest of the hike down was excruciating for me. As hard as it had been to breathe on the way up, I was in agony from the pain on my feet from the steepness of the mountains on the way down. My hiking boots were a tad too big – and my toes kept jamming into the front of my boots with each step on the way down. Every step was painful. I felt as if my feet were a bloody mess. (In fact, when I took my boots off at home, I realized they were. My toenails are still completely black – weeks later.)  But each step made me think more and more about our girls and their families. This was their life. And they were happy. They had little to no modern conveniences. They had excruciating hikes to get anywhere. And we are not talking to get to the mall or McDonald’s. We are talking about just getting to a town that has a school. And a small market. That’s it. This is a life lesson that I believe will always stay with me. The next time I have to wait in line at the supermarket, with my overstuffed basket of pre-killed animals, and blemish-free fruits and vegetables, I will think of Nohemi, and Maria Elena, Maribel, Elisabeth and Anita… who have never even seen a supermarket. And who have to walk up to eight hours to get to school. And I will be grateful for all that I have – and whistful of this place that is much simpler.

So I have mentioned that the communities that our girls live in are very far from towns with schools. That is why we have a dormitory for them to stay in during the week – so that they can actually reach a high school. What better way to understand our population, than to actually visit them there, and make the trek myself? Great idea – I can thank Alex (our founder, and inspiration behind the Sacred Valley Project) for taking us for a “hike” into the mountains one weekend to meet with several of our families. It was an experience that changed my perspective on who are girls are, how they live, and what we are doing here.

How difficult could it be to get to school?  I mean, really? I have listened to my in-laws’ stories of how hard it was for them to get to school – walking to school 5 miles, uphill both ways, in the snow…. which made my own high school journey seem like a piece of cake: walk 2 blocks to the bus stop – take the B58 bus for about 15 or 20 minutes, then take the “EE” or “GG” subway line  to Continental Ave. where I switched to the “E” or “F” subway to the end of the line. 45 minutes total. Not bad. My kids, growing up in the suburbs, think that my trip was kind of insane. Let’s face it, they’re spoiled. But neither they nor I could ever have imagined how difficult getting to school could be. Let’s face it. I’m spoiled.

We started out for the first village of Socma. Socma is probably the easiest village to get to – as twice a week, there is transportation that goes there. Luckily, one of those days is Friday afternoon, so the girls from that community can get transportation home for the weekend. Unfortunately, it is not available on Sunday evenings, when the girls return to the dorm – so they have to walk the entire way. Two of our girls live in this community. To start with, we walked to the mercado (market), where we took a combi. A combi is a Toyota passenger van, that in the U.S. would normally hold 8 to 11 passengers. These vans have been re-fitted however, and it is most common to have about 25 passengers crammed in like sardines – some in seats, some standing over the people in seats.  Oh, and of course, you have all of your “stuff” on top. I am used to taking a combi to our next town, Urubamba, as that is where I take language classes once in awhile. Once you are stuffed inside, you try to hold your breath if you are not lucky to be sitting next to a precious window, because let’s face it – it’s pretty ripe in there!

What else can you fit in here?

A 15 minute combi ride to Pachar, where we sat, kind of in the middle of nowhere…. waiting. I wasn’t sure for what, but I have learned that in Perú, don’t ask questions – as you probably won’t understand the answer anyway, and you will just become more frustrated. Watch and observe – that’s the name of the game. It soon became apparent that our next mode of transport was a truck. Really? This is it? Where were we going to fit – it was brimming to the seems already.

Truck to Socma

The truck experience was something I could not have imagined at all. It was a far cry from my Toyota Highlander with it’s plush leather seats, adjustable lumbar, coffee cup holder and sunroof that I practically live in, and have used to shuttle my kids back and forth to school . Well, I guess the truck did have a sunroof of sorts….but there were definitely no coffee cup holders.  We climbed into the truck, along with 80 other people. Yes, 80 – during the 45 minute ride I counted them. Most were women and children and babies. For most of the ride, I stood on one foot – as there was absolutely no place to put my second foot. I was standing on top of a 50 lb. sack of rice. Crammed in like sardines, my body was juxtaposed so that my foot was at least 4 feet in front of where my head was. I was holding on to a little girl who must have been about 5 or 6 years old  named Marylin. Actually, I had my arm around her waist, and was holding her up so that she would not be completely crushed by the crowd of people as we made our way up into the mountains on a rocky, hairpin turn road. Old women on their way home from market were crowded next to nursing mothers, next to children trying to catch a ride home from school, all on top of huge sacks of supplies from town.

Don’t Step on Anyone!

The amazing thing to me was that everyone was in a great mood. “Why?” you may ask. Not only do they not have cushy seats, but they can’t even rest their Starbucks comfortably in this vehicle. Well, the answer should be pretty obvious by now – they actually had caught the truck, which meant they would not have to hike about 2 hours up into the mountains. Sweet. The ride lasted about 45 minutes, and we jostled against each other the entire way,  holding each other up, trying not to fall underneath the huge pile of human mass. When we finally arrived in Socma, I felt much closer to my new Peruvian amigos…. their joy had rubbed off on me, and my eyes were beginning to open. Be grateful for what you have. Take joy in each thing that comes your way – look for the good in everything. We are truly fortunate.

Look at Those Smiling Faces!

Speaking of being fortunate, every day I am grateful for all that I have – and today I am grateful that you are even reading this, and learning about us!

Next up………. the communities.