Wheelchairs for San Luis

A wheelchair for Santa Barbara

Another for dear Isabella

Loading the chairs on the bus in Lima

Picking up the chairs in Lima

Angel called the garbage truck to come fetch us from the Pan Am

So, life in the construction zone goes on. The water has been off during the day. Good thing I shower early. Many Peruvians (and PCVs) deal with this on a daily basis, so I can’t really complain. It also means no use of the toilet. On Fernando’s sage advice I had two options – walk down to his sister-in-law’s house or use a plastic bag. I chose the latter. Not as hard or bad as it sounds. Sorry, if the frankness is uncomfortable, but this is my life.

We had a near riot on the Combi coming home from Canete the other night. The fare goes up from 38 to 57 cents after 9pm. So, there was a crowd to get on the last flight out before 9, as usual. It left the stand at 8:56. When the conductor announced that the fare would be higher, since we didn’t actually get on the Pan Am until just after 9, the whole bus erupted. 19 cents is really a lot to some folks here. And I think some just yelled for the fun of it. Anyway he didn’t back down. I probably wasn’t appreciated when I paid the higher fare, but I did. So did about half the passengers – 6 of whom were standing. Again, this is my life.

Not all bad though, out on dawn patrol this morning, Norma had set up her usual Sunday “brunch” stand down the street, since the sidewalk in front of her house is under a small mountain of dirt. She sells tamales – chicken, pork or fruit – and a nasty blood sausage, that Fernando loves. Me….not so much. I’ll go with the fruit tamale every time. And a nice chichi morada – the blue corn drink. We had a nice chat, commiserating over the construction. Her husband has an ancient printing press that I adore. It’s not waffles and omelets at the Marriott, but it’s good. And it’s my life.

The circus is in town again. Same show as last time. Why they’ve gone ahead and set up in the middle of construction is a mystery. Access is over a long stretch of dirt covered sidewalk, with only a foot or so of clearance and then over a 6 ft pile of dirt and debris. Still, there was a fair crowd for Saturday night. I didn’t go in, just stood with the crowd outside of folks who didn’t want to (or couldn’t) pay the 52 cent admission. Lots of US carnival style music, some bad singing and some girly dancers. The BIG thing is the clowns. Many clown acts, mostly slap-stick and some downright cruel. Every time the big macho clown hits the little effeminate clown with a rubber bat, the crowd erupts with laughter and applause. Same as watching 3 Stooges movie on the bus. This is one element of the culture I have yet to grok.

I adore the kids at my house. Little Amir is so soft and smiling. Comes into my room the most. We have a ritual of high 5’s : Arriba, Abajo, Despacio (High, Low, Too slow). Every day – sometimes he actually gets the Rapido last one. Always on the hunt for food, and usually finds it. Loves my tool collection and has a million questions about everything. Camila has been spending lots of time with her teenage aunts, growing up fast, growing a little distant. I was so proud when my sister Darcy sent some simple “girly” gifts and she insisted on writing a Thank You. Quite the lady, this one. We did it on Goyo’s computer which was taking for-ev-er, so tried to step in and type. She pushed me off and insisted that “it wouldn’t be from her” if I typed it. Santiago is still the devil. His speech thing is getting better. He can be mean to Amir, which I don’t like. But good kids. When I first moved in, I actually thought I couldn’t live here because of the constant intrusions. But, turns out, I kind of enjoy it now.

Lunch Today: Salad – lentil sprouts, tomato, amazing avocado, cilantro and onion, with Goyo’s secret dressing, topped with goat Feta cheese. And two Feta sandwiches. Glass of chicha morada from Norma. OMG so good. Total cost :about 45 US cents. I guy can live well here on very little.

Fernando invited me to “Casa Blanca” to help celebrate his birthday. It is a large white compound, located a discreet distance from the Pan Am Hwy, between San Luis and San Vicente. It is the local whore-house. He promised very pretty young girls and “very clean”, but expensive drinks. A friend of mine (who claims to have visited, but not partaken) says none is true, except the latter. The price is certainly right 15-20 soles (US$6-8) for a “poke”, depending on the quality selected. Reportedly, business is conducted in small cubicles. It is said that the length of the line waiting outside the stall, is directly proportional to the looks of the denizen thereof. The establishment is strictly BYOC. While I am totally down with cultural exchange, I respectfully declined this one.

A meeting with the director of the Colegio Mixto was productive. In one fell swoop, my charming and forceful socios Gloria and Esther, got classroom space during school hours for us to teach the HIV/STD, teen pregnancy prevention program Pasos Adelante. As well, we have use of a classroom after school for working with the teachers and parents and set-up the correspondence program with a class in Golden, CO. All classes will be with 16 year olds, the oldest age in the school and the last year of public / required education here. After that, it’s 2 years of Pre-University (not available in my little pueblo, but in Canete) and then University, mostly in Lima. Needless to say, around here most education ends at 16 or before.

Mama Alicia just dropped off a nice apple pie – about the only pie they make around here. Fernando and I built her a big industrial cocina way back in June, but dividends are still flowing. I find it amazingly sweet that she would think of me/us so long after the work. But, as I’ve said before, the people of this town are wonderfully kind and generously thoughtful. Now….to share, or not to share……….

My dear friend Angel and I had a wonderful adventure together, going to Lima to fetch 7 brand-new wheelchairs, donated by the Princeton Class of ’77 and the Wheelchair Foundation. The new Muni suddenly got unavailable, so – as often happens here – fell back to Plan B. Jumped on the Soyuz to Lima, had some fruit I brought for breakfast and good chats. Missed our stop (my fault) and had to scramble out to the far north side of Lima on a patchwork of over-crowded and under-maintained buses, culminating in a moto-taxi ride to the Policlinica where the chairs are stored.

They were all ready for us, which was a nice surprise. But the shipping boxes were too big to fit in the standard small wagon taxis. Plan B2 – Angel went out and found a small panel truck and negotiated a brilliant fare back to central Lima. We presented a beautifully bound Muni Proclamation and 2 bottles of very nice local Pisco. Angel really knows how to say thank you. He is a pleasure to know and work with. Proud to call him my friend. Jovial and energetic and bright, he always has a good idea and truly cares about making our pueblo the best it can be.

The ride back to downtown was slow and cramped. The explosion of private cars is choking the main arteries. A Teachers’ Strike in city center caused even more delays. The Police were out in full riot gear, with tanks and urban assault vehicles and mounted Cavalry !! Looked ready to repel and army. After an interminable concert of blaring horns and whistles, we made our way to the bus terminal, loaded the chairs below and took the upper front “E Ticket” seats. Angel rounded up some outstanding “Chifa” Chinese  take-out and 3 liters of Inca Kola, so we enjoyed a good meal, conversation and vistas all the way home to San Luis. Yes, I even drank the Inca.

The bus, rather unceremoniously dumped us and 7 huge boxes at the side of the busy Pan Am, by the stadium. The Muni pickup being – once again – otherwise engaged, Angel did his usually magic and summoned one of the Muni garbage trucks to ferry us into Town Hall. There, we were greeted as returning heroes, amid busy unpacking of boxes and enthusiastic “test-drives”.

And the construction continues : A break in the water line, caused by all the sewer construction has turned our usually US style water, into a murky soup. Should be better by Monday, they say. But meanwhile, I'm boiling and buying bottled water - just like most of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers do every day. Boiling water, travelling 2 hours to use internet, bank or shop or buy hardware are S.O.P. for most PCVs. I have been blessed with none of these impediments. For which I am constantly thankful.