"This is my Peru."

     Well, I had every intention of writing this blog about the teaching project as that is what I am here to do. However, as this year is so graciously teaching me, things rarely go as planned. Alas, there is something else that has come up that I would like to share with you.

     I had a conversation with my host mom today over lunch that I honestly don´t know how to characterize. It was touching, intense, and heart breaking all in one. Now, my host mom only speaks Spaish and I often can´t keep up with everything when she gets going to I have had to paraphrase some of what follows.

     This conversation started talking about a young girl, Rebecca, who lives with us. Rebecca is 15 (and maybe 4´8") but looks about 11 (similar to Gowin in Ghana). Rebecca has been living with the family since she was 11 and is essentially part of the family. I learned more about her past today.

     She comes from a small pueblo (village/town) outside of Cusco. When she arrived here she only spoke Quechua - the native language of the Incans, but no Spanish. (Fast Fact - a few of my students first language was Quechua.) She has had to learn Spanish over the past four years. She still does not know how to write in Spanish (I asked her), but she goes to school and is learning more and more. All that I already knew.

    Today, I learned that when Rebecca came to live with the family, she had only the clothes on her back and no shoes on her feet. She was/is cognitively and physically stunted because her family is very poor so all they ate was corn meal.
 
     Now, I have to tell you that Rebecca is the most positive, upbeat little girl! She is constantly smiling! The trade was that the family would take Rebeca in - feed her, clothe her, pay for her schooling, etc.- in turn for her help with things around the house. This is something that Kayla and I have struggled with a little because we (very) frequently hear, "Rebeccita, una favorita por favor!" and off Rebecca goes to tidy the kitchen, buy bread, or on some other errand. However, the education and life skills Rebecca is getting in return in invaluable.

     Another thing I learned today that infuriates me, as well as Nimia, is that Rebecca´s father receives 100 soles per month  (the equivalent of $40) for her. Throughout the four years she has been here, her father has not put one penny away from her for when she turns 18 and is on her own. While bits and pieces of Rebecca´s story came out during the conversation, it ruly started when I started talking about Yolanda.

     Last night, Kayla and I came home from Pizza Tuesday (a tradition started with the group in Cape Town that we have carried on here) around ten. We walked back into the laundry room to pull our clothes off the line and we found this girl just standing there. A little taken aback I ask, "¿Quien eres (Who are you)?"

     No response.

     I begin to gather my bearings:
     "¿Como te llamas?"
     -mumbles
   
     Thankfully at this time Rebecca came downstairs because she heard us come in. She informed us (in Spanish) that this new girl will be living with us for a while.

     Okay - I think - let´s try this again more calmly and not as shocked:

      "Lo siento. Me llamo Tyler. ¿Como te llamas?"
      "royand"
     ¿Que?
     (very quietly) Yolanda"
     "Yolanda! ¿De donde eres (Where are you from)?"
      Crickets.
      "¿Cuanto tiempo esta aca?"
       Silence.

     Rebecca (who is generally doesn´t speak much) finally steps in. "She can´t really speak but she´s going to live here for a year."

     Kayla and I exchange glances unsure of what to think.
 
     Fast forward to this afternoon, when we return home for lunch. I did not see Yolanda so I asked Nimia where she was and Nimia told me that she was with her mother. I then asked Nimia is Yolanda was going to return and got a meager "Ojala (I hope)" in response.

    It turns out that Yolanda, like Rebecca, comes from a pueblo on the outskirts of Cusco. When Kayla and I first saw her I would have put her around 15 (she´s about 4´10" and was disshelved). LIttle did I know that she is 20 and has never lived on her own. I couldn´t ascertain why she can´t speak, but the reason she is here is for speech therapy lessons. Her parents had to decide between rebuilding the dilapidated house or getting her help.

     They chose the house so now she´s here. Again, similar to Rebecca, Yolanda will work for Nimia in exchange for food, shelter, clothes, and speech therapy lessons.

     Apparently today, Yolanda started crying (Understandably - I can´t imagine how difficult it is to be uprooted from your home and dropped into a bustling city and not even be able to really communicate) so her mother came and got her. Her mother and siblings are supportive of her living here in Cusco because they know that without this help she has no opportunities and they don´t know what will happen to her. Her father shares their fears, but is unsure about her being here because he fears she will be taken advantage of or worse because she can´t defend herself - not even with words or cries for help.

    Sorry for the long discourse but I hope you´re still with me because this is where the conversation really starts.

     Nimia begins to tell me how she truly admires girls like Rebecca and Yolanda who are willing to work because so many girls who come to Cusco for this kind of trade never actually want to do anything or revert to stealing. She told me the story of one girl she had hired who treid to steal all her jewelry. The girl was supposed to be watching then baby Derek. Instead, she snuck into Nimia´s bathroom and began taking her jewelry. Derek somehow pulled something down that struck him on his head and he began to cry. When Nimia went upstairs to see what hapened she found the girl in her bathroom taking her valuables.

     Apparently this sort of thing is not uncommon in Cusco when girls from outside pueblos come to work for families and end up stealing their valuables.

    From this girl, Nimia moved on to tell me about another girl who had worked for her for a few years. She adored this girl, but quickly realized that whenever Ayul (Nimia´s husband) or one of Nimia´s male cousins walked into the same room as the girl, her whole face and character would change. When Nimia inquired why , she learned that the girl had been molested.

    The girl became pregnant from the man who molested her and decided to abort her pregnancy. Due to all this trauma, the girl went to seek help and therapy and spent some time at a residence where whe could receive the help she needed. Nimia regularly called and visited to check in on her. After a while, no one took her calls. She went to the residence a month later and learned that the girl´s family had taken her home.

     Nimia worried for the girl´s safety as the girl had repeated confided in Nimia that if she went home she felt that she would be assualted again.

     Six months later, Nimia heard that the girl had been shot three times by the man who molested her. She survived but was not in good condition.

    At this point, NImia is getting more and more invested in the conversation and shows real concern for her fellow Peruvians.

     She tells me about life in the poor countryside and that girls as young as 13 or 14 are getting pregnant because the government will give them 100 soles per month per child. I was shocked to hear that by the time girls are twenty they will have 3 or 4 children just so they can get money from the government. Nimia strongly disagrees with this practice and expressed that she wishes the government would invest the funds in job training or education instead of just handing out the money. (I strongly concur as this is often how I feel about our welfare system.)

     From this, she began speaking about the insidious violence that has permeated Peru since 1998.

     "It got worse after Toledo was elected and before we knew it there was violence and strikes everywhere - in Lima, Arequipa, and even Cusco. I have seen it with my own eyes here in Cusco. One day, I heard gunshots and walked out to find someone shot in the street."

    At this point, Nimia started crying and my heart went out to my surrogate mom who was talking about the broken country she loves.

    "How many have to die before the government does anything? How many mothers have to lose their children and how many children have to be disfigured before the government does anything? We have no human rights here. Horrible things happen but there are no consequences. First there were just a few instances of terror but now there are more frequent threats and acts. Just a little while ago they found a bomb at the Cusco airport. The Cusco airport brings tourists into our country. Why would someone want to hurt those who are helping to support us?

    The people in Peru are so beautiful and we have so much potential to grow our own economy but now we are dependent on tourism and no one is working to build a better Peru.  I just keep asking myself when is our government going to do something.

This is my Peru."

     Just like at Bonnytoun, I had no idea how to respond. The Peru I´ve seen has been indescribably beautiful. Everyone has been extraordinarily welcoming and I´ve felt safe here (especially in comparison to Cape Town). I am aware that Peru has it´s hardships and that poverty is a rampant reality especially in rural areas, but I had no idea the depth of the issues or the pain it instills within Peruvians.

     While I knew all alon Nimia has the best and most genuine intentions, I had struggled with the "trade" Rebecca and Yolanda are making. However, by the end of our conversation, I realized that this is Nimia´s way of trying to do something to help change her Peru. Little does she know that she is changing me too.