More Than Just the Silver Lining

I have had so much fun since I’ve been in Peru! However, I don’t want my blogs to give you the idea that life here is always perfect and happy and chipper. Here’s a glimpse of the less glorious side: the ugly, the weird, and the heart wrenching.

I never once expected that I would be sleeping in during my time in Peru. However, I also never expected that I would be woken up early every morning by: dogs fighting outside my window, a woman SCREAMING a list of the things she was selling, a man using a megaphone as he collects recycling, or the garbage truck BLASTING Jennifer Lopez around 7:15 three times a week. I guess you just have to learn to expect the unexpected.

Some of the streets here get quite a bit of traffic. So naturally, that would make them a perfect place to: Do homework? Play volleyball? Both? Of course! Or better yet, why don’t we blindfold our friends and push them into the street? That sounds like the perfect way to spend a Friday afternoon. I never cease to be amazed by the things I see kids doing in the street here.

It’s very convenient to be able to buy the ingredients for dinner at the store right on the street corner by the house. But is it sanitary? Seeing a whole chicken: legs, head, and all, lying on the counter of a dusty store certainly isn’t the best prelude to a chicken dinner.

The sun was shining, and the view of the city from the roof was beautiful. Unfortunately, though, I wasn’t up on the roof to enjoy the nice weather. I sat on a stump with a tub of cold water, a bar of soap, a scrub brush, and a pile of dirty clothes. I really didn’t know where to start. Even following Molly’s directions, I felt like I was only making my clothes dirtier. Trying to scrub my sock clean without thinning the material, I wondered why, as a child, I’d always wanted to be like Cinderella.

Dinner the other night was good…but it was VERY strange. I thought you guys would appreciate a description. When you think of dinner, you probably think of a meat and a vegetable or two around 6 or 6:30. At least, that’s normal for me. A few nights ago, I sat down to eat at 8:45, and Mari sat before me: a HUGE bowl of porridge with a purple sauce and several pieces of deep fried dough (they call them pancakes there). It certainly was NOT the dinner I was expecting. The porridge was kinda like really sweet oatmeal or Cream of Wheat, and for some reason the sauce reminded me of a candle (it was very dark purple and very thick). It had chunks of apple in it, too. And the “pancakes” were really more like donuts that you dip in the porridge and sauce. Like I said, it was good, but it was one of the weirdest dinners I’ve ever had.

Recess with the kindergartners is nearly always one of the highlights of my day. I can’t say the same for the other day. I smiled and nodded with acknowledgement every time a kid yelled at me to watch them swing. Only this time, when I looked, I saw the tiniest kindergartner, Sayuli, with her Princess Lea hair, fall off her metal swing onto the dusty ground. Just as I yelled, “Cuidado (careful)!” the swing next to hers slammed into her head. She screamed bloody murder, which was quite appropriate because blood started gushing from her head. I ran over and immediately put my hand over the cut to stop the bleeding. I then exhibited multi-tasking at its finest: yelling at Molly to get the teacher, consoling the sobbing child, and praying that I wouldn’t contract AIDS or some other disease through her blood. The teacher ran over and whisked away poor Sayuli, and I turned to comfort her sister, Melissa, whose beautiful face was contorted with hysteric screaming. I hugged her tight as she begged for her mother and watched through the window as the teacher treated Sayuli’s head with the supplies in the first aid kid: toilet paper and a cotton pad. I marveled that the school had no alcohol wipes or bandaids. Thankfully, ten minutes later, both girls smiled as Sayuli sucked a lollipop with just a tiny cut on her head, and Melissa smiled, realizing that her sister was going to be okay.
About that time, though, I realized that I was not okay. My stomach quickly became as unhappy as the wailing Sayuli…and for no apparent reason. After my class in the afternoon, I took a two hour nap. By the time I woke up for dinner, I realized it was not going to go away. So I told Mari, and she fixed me some tea. Knowing that her mother is a witch doctor, I should have known that the tea would be something herbal that would taste less than delicious. Mari went into the kitchen and then placed before me a steaming mug of tea with an odor I can’t quite put my finger on (dirty socks?). I drank about half, and then…well…I’m usually big on detail, but let’s just say I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Ugh…not a good day.

None of these stories of my petty woes, though, compare to the lives of the children. It’s hard for me to keep track of all their stories, but a few of them stay in my mind. Luis, the most energetic and fun kid in the kindergarten class, lives with his aunt and cousins because his mother was a rape victim at just 13 or 14 and works in Lima six hours away. Celia does not bring a lunch to school like the other kindergartners because her family can’t afford it. The other kids all chip in to give her a meal. Sayuli’s shirt has so many holes in it that she won’t take her uniform coat off even when it’s hot outside. I don’t know Yestilin’s situation, but she nearly cried when she realized there was no school the next day, Saturday. When I see these kids, they are FULL of joy. But I don’t know if they’re always like that or if they just love school. Because all I’m seeing is the silver lining of their lives. And from what I’ve been told, their lives at home are more like the inside of a storm cloud. Please pray for better futures for all of them.

Melissa and Sayuli

Celia

Molly and I doing our laundry

Luis

the market