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TRIP TO Q'ERO 2006 Tim Eicher Returning to the Village: a Journey of the Heart
The journey starts long before the day of the hike; it begins in our hearts and minds. All year we have been in intense dialog about how to manifest the Foundation’s mission and principles. We must continually expand our understanding of the historical, sociological, and political contexts of the people who we propose to serve. And we recognize that we are beneficiaries of these reciprocal relationships as well. "If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your
time.
But if you have come because your liberation is tied up with mine, then let us work together." -Lila Watson, Aboriginal Activist Working Together  Once in Cuzco, there is much coordination and work to be done with village leaders and advisors in Peru. This year Alejandro Trevisan joined our group of four volunteers in our trek into the mountains. An expert in permaculture, Alejandro works to renew traditional seeds used by indigenous groups around the world. Living two years with the Huichols, a traditional tribe in Mexico, Trevisan understands and appreciates the Heart Walk Foundation goal to support cultural integrity. In Peru, he has been working to strengthen the relationships among traditional Andean groups, supporting the system of Ayllus, or families, that existed prior to the Spanish invasion. The Ayllus were a regional socio-cultural support structure among the different Andean groups that promoted peaceful cooperation with one another. They maximized resources by planting complimentary crops that were traded, minimizing dependence on currency. Specialization was encouraged within certain communities, each community emphasizing unique skills or industries that could be useful to the region, making interchange and cooperation vital regional practices. After the Invasion, the Spanish established the Hacienda System, a brilliant strategy for fragmenting the ayllus and reducing the likelihood of an uprising. Destructive Hacienda System
Alejandro, with his initiative and foresight, has established an organization called the Association of Ayllus Ecologicos of Cuzco. It has the expressed purpose of creating alliances among the various Andean groups of the Cuzco area in the development of projects that will lead to a sustainable lifestyle. The Association intends to protect the culture, protect the land, and increase the capability to successfully market traditional industries. Additional projects renew traditional practices, such as the use of medicinal plants. All projects focus on increasing the health and well-being of the people while maintaining cultural sensitivity. This association represents hope for the indigenous groups of this region. Heart Walk Foundation has tried to walk gently in collaboration with the indigenous people, encouraging them make decisions about their needs and our role in helping them. They have been wise in their decision-making, relying on the community consensus format they have used for perhaps a thousand years. As they work with the other communities, they will be gaining clarity in their own efforts. There are already more than 25 communities participating in discussions and planning sessions, one of which we were able to attend. Exploiting the Lands
The indigenous peoples have been easily swept aside by ‘progress.” Miners and geologists are hiking into remote regions in these mountains, looking for precious minerals and soliciting the indigenous people to assist them exploit the land. They seek sacred burials as they treasure hunt for undiscovered antiquities. The only hope for the tribes of the Andes will come from solidarity with regional groups, standing together against the coming intense economic and social pressures. Time is of the essence. We fear we are seeing the last days of these well-preserved ancient cultures. To Prospective donors: The Association of Ayllus desperately needs an infusion of financial support. The development of relationships and strategy in the region to protect the homelands of these tribes will take some time, but more time can be given to this end if some of the bills and costs of the Association can be paid. Please consider helping. Traveling through the Andes Mountains
There were about 20 people staying in the meeting room at the house, mostly Q’ero villagers who had been meeting with leaders of various communities. Twelve Q’ero villagers were riding back to the mountains with us. What a comic sight when I walked into the great room and said, “Let’s go!” They jumped up as one, gathering and bundling all at once. From wake-up to finding seats, they were ready in five minutes, broad smiles and excitement on their faces at the relative luxury and safety of the bus. Note: The commonly used form of transportation by the Q’ero are the cisternas, gas trucks that cross the Andes Mountains in three days to deliver gasoline to towns in the Amazon jungle. Open flat bed stake trucks are cheap to ride but terribly rough to ride—with dust, cold, and rain, and seating on the bed of the truck only if there is room around the sides of the petroleum tank. We arrived at Wasi (People’s House) in the early afternoon after a safe and comfortable journey. This little house was purchased in 2005 by our Board Member and dear friend Marz Attar to give the villagers a place to stay while traveling in and out of the mountains, and also to give travelers such as ourselves a more comfortable place in K___. It is not a house, really, but a concrete bunker, twenty-two feet by twelve feet, not unlike an icebox in the cold weather. It is slightly warmer inside than out, and what a blessing for the villagers not having to sleep outside in the freezing weather while traveling. We share our sleeping space with thousands of pounds of food we have purchased for the village, including grain staples, cooking oil, and salt. Never too far, too cold, too tired, too hurt
These Q’ero people are truly remarkable. As we slowly ascend the glacial valley, we pass small groups of Q’ero men running beside their pack animals down the hill to pick up supplies. We will be quite challenged by our one-way hike, but all of these Q’ero men will hike a two-way trip today. They love to ask us if we are cold and tired. “Cansado?” “Frio?” Yet, when we ask them these same questions, they are never tired, never cold, and -- even if their feet are bleeding -- never in much pain. There is a serious macho-ness to the Andean cultures, almost certainly a product of living in such constantly rugged conditions. They must note the strain on our faces and labored breathing as we struggle in the thin air. As the men reach us on their return trip, they ask us of they can carry our back backs, too although they are already carrying up to fifty pounds on their backs in cloth mantas. They treat us with genuine care and respect. Within a mile of the village we pass two women harvesting potatoes. One is Luisa, a dear woman of middle years. She talks to us nonstop in Quechua, even though we understand only rudiments of greetings. Her radiant smile and open face are beautiful. The women are barefoot in the cold but rich, loamy soil, with a pile of harvested potatoes next to them. Luisa greets me warmly, but when she sees Penelope, she begins to run towards her. Throwing her arms around Penelope, she emotionally spouts non-stop Quechua. Alejandro translates, “She says ‘You are back! You have come back to us walking all this way! You are back!’” People love Penelope in the village. For some, her first visit is associated with a turn in fortunes from desperation to stability. The women, in particular, gravitate toward Penelope with affection. As we trudge into the school courtyard at about 4:00 in the afternoon, nearly all of the men and animals have already arrived. We settle into the little schoolhouse with Vicente’s help. We have a short meeting with the varoques discussing some of the issues for tomorrow’s assembly. Tonight the main hamlet of the village is crowded, as people are congregating for the assembly tomorrow. Note: Varoques are the traditionally recognized leaders. When the Q’ero sit together for meetings, the mature men sit in an inner circle, surrounded by smaller groups of younger men. The women sit in their own groups, outside the circle of men. Important conversations are passed from the inner circle to the outer. Announcements or points of decision usually originate in the inner circle, and are introduced by a varoque who will stand and speak. Man of action Alejandro is a man of action. As we got up in the morning, I explained to him the problem of the latrine we were told to use last year. There is a small rock shelter built directly over a diverted stream that runs into the river. We were told last year that no one lived below the village and that we should use this stream as the latrine. I told him I wanted to dig a latrine up the hill somewhere where we could have some privacy but also refrain from putting waste directly into the river. His response was immediate and electric: “Let’s go!” Typical of Alejandro, though, he communicated clearly to the people what we were doing and why. “Okay, Vicente, it’s bad to put human waste into the water. It contaminates the water and spreads disease. You should never do this. What you need to do is build a portable outhouse to set over the top of a big hole in the ground. When the hole is getting full, dig a new one and move the outhouse on top of it. Then fill the first hole up and plant a small tree over the human fertilizer.” Last year I was very reticent to say anything directive to the community, preferring to allow them to use their own judgment without interference. Alejandro’s actions awakened me to the fact that the community needs to be taught certain concepts in order to upgrade health in the community. It’s not only okay for us to express these thoughts regarding health and safety; it is a moral imperative to give them the information. We asked Vicente for a pick-axe, a pry bar, and a shovel. Alejandro, Perry, and I dug a big hole, created a privacy wall with rocks and planks, and put a stand with boards over the hole. Alejandro explained that this is a temporary hole for our use, and then proceeded to draw with graph paper a design for a portable outhouse that could be used by the community. All of this took less than two hours, perhaps making an immediate and direct contribution to the health of the community. We are so excited to be involved with the Association of Ayllus as it is an organization of action with a focus on immediate needs of the communities. Alejandro is not afraid to get his hands dirty getting the work done; in fact, this is what he loves. Renewal of Ancient Relationships
Alejandro is compadre to the president of Q---. He knows almost everyone in the village. He has already spoken with the Q--- about renewing the traditional ties with this community. As we were returning to Cuzco, he arranged a trip to Q__ within two weeks with Vicente, Marcelo, and other authorities from this village. He saw a number of his Q--- friends waiting for the transport when we were on the bus back to Cusco. We stopped to say hello, meeting the president and others from Q---. They greeted us warmly and openly; even more gratifying, as Alejandro explained that the two communities should work together to renew their collaborative relationship, all the Q--- people began to applauded. Dates for the upcoming visit were established. As with the latrine, direct progress had been made in a matter of the shortest of time and a few sensitive exchanges. We are thrilled by the ramifications of these changes, which we believe will bring immediate benefit to both communities, and will help us see new projects in our role with the people. Current Projects
We had another ahijado ceremony this year, adding five more to the nineteen we already are pledged to. We pledged to give approximately $35 US for each ahijado to purchase an alpaca. If we continue to do this every year, by the time the child is a teen, the child will have a small herd of animals. The alpacas provide excellent wool for weaving and breed to increase the family herds.  Food for the Elderly (“ancianos”) We pledged to send money for purchasing tools and food to the old ones. There are approximately fifteen very old people in the community who can no longer work to sustain their living. Their relatives must help to feed them, but they are already malnourished themselves and have no money for food. We think three to four hundred dollars per year will suffice to support the ancianos.  Q’ero Culture Memory Project We proposed our ‘memory project’ to preserve the old stories, history, and knowledge for the coming generations of Q’ero people. We offered to pay the ancianos (elderly) stipends to be interviewed by the youth about what these elders believe the young people should know about their culture, history, ancestors, and other aspects of community life. We have multiple objectives for this project:
We announced that we will continue to purchase weavings, and that we have brought the money to pay the weavers on the spot. We were told that the reason more women haven’t come for today’s assembly is because they are home finishing the weavings for tomorrow’s weaver day. Our gifts for this year Among many other donations, we brought knife sharpeners and nail clippers for each family. It was fun for us to watch them examine these objects not having had any experience with them. We had to teach them by modeling and practicing how to use these tools. Education Three boys from the community are enrolled in the Winaypaq School of our advisor Kike Pinto, where they are enrolled above the third grade and learning how to live in two cultures. We have some long-range hopes that these boys could provide some future leadership for the community to face the modern world. The Vitamin Project Melissa, one of the members of Heart Walk Foundation’s Board of Directors, has worked diligently with Vitamin Angels to arrange donations of pre-natal vitamins for all pregnant women. The people waited for us to arrive to learn how to use them, never having taken vitamins before. We intend to expand the Vitamin Project to reach every villager. The Association of Ayllus will teach the people how to use powdered coca leaf for dietary supplement as well. A Harvard study has shown that the coca leaf has abundant minerals and vitamins. Since it is more familiar to the people, they are more likely to be comfortable using it. Prime Agricultural Land There is an opportunity to purchase undeveloped agricultural land at a much lower elevation at the base of the east slope of the Andes. The association of villages can develop a cooperative farm project using sustainable organic farming methods to bring urgently needed fruits and vegetables to thousands of villagers. Heart Walk Foundation is committed to raise funds to provide for this permanent solution to malnutrition. Community Projects The community has made a lot of progress in the last two years. There continue to be urgent needs to meet the most basic of survival needs. They requested some specific help in the following areas: Purchase of Milk Cows Many cows died of a fever, and the community wants to replace them so they have a source of dietary protein with milk. We were reluctant, wondering if perhaps the altitude is too extreme for the cows. On a visit to one of the sectors we were given milk that has been pasteurized through boiling, and we realized we ourselves were very hungry for something besides potatoes. The cows appear to be healthy, even those grazing upwards of 16,000 feet. We pledge to use the Black Family Foundation grant of $750 US to buy 5 additional cows. The community needs 12 additional cows to provide enough milk for all children (one cow per 3 families). Cultural Center When we hiked into the village, we noticed two large new buildings. One is a community center for potato storage, community meetings, and a room for the weavers. This incomplete stone building was built with grant money left over from another village. The other is a two-story building cultural center, also incomplete. This building was funded by the Attar Supporting Organization (thanks to Marz Attar, also on the Board of Directors for Heart Walk Foundation). It is not yet finished, but the progress impresses us. Both projects have been built with the traditional ‘barn-raising’ process: all community members work together on designated work days. School The education provided by the government for this community is horrible. A teacher is assigned to this remote village who cannot work anywhere else. Often the teacher has little appreciation for the cultural ways of the Q’ero, and can be quite harsh and punishing to the children. In the past, some teachers have molested the children. Many of the children do not attend because they are needed at home to tend the herds or gather daily firewood. Most simply live too far away hours from the school. Yet children have been punished to run around the schoolhouse many times for being late. Heart Walk Foundation is considering a project in which several Q’ero youth could receive some very basic training as teacher assistants to work as itinerant teachers in each sector (remote hamlet). Each sector could have a hut assigned for the small group of students. The lessons could be in both Quechua and Spanish, using materials developed largely in the community. We discussed this briefly with the authorities. They may not fully understand our proposal, but Alejandro does, and he will talk to them about the idea. We will discuss this more next year. The community-side meeting was held outside, everyone sitting on the cold ground, and lasted five to six hours. In the early afternoon we watched the fog roll up the canyon from the cloud forest and jungle far below, enclosing the meeting in a dense, freezing cloud. As the air warms in the highlands, it creates an inversion that draws moist, wet air from the jungle up the canyons. Hauntingly beautiful in transition, it is surreal to watch the advance and the altered depth perception and sound transmission. It is a cold that penetrates our many layers of clothing. Later that evening Marcelo lead a prayer and despacho ceremony to welcome us and protect us during our visit. Flanked by Vicente, Santos, Alejandro, and Sebastian, the ceremony lasted several hours. It’s impossible to describe the attentiveness and strength of the praying, the comfort of companionship and the sense of peace that comes from establishing harmony in our energies. Marcelo offered two despachos on our behalf, one for the Apus of the region to be with us, and another for Pachamama. It was a beautiful ceremony full of gentleness, sweetness, and humor. The tone was set for our coming work. Perry telephoned us a couple of days after our return to marvel once again at the respect and gentleness with which all public interactions proceed. The generosity, consideration, and selflessness modeled are expressions of ayni. The gift of their hearts brings us to a deeper understanding of our own reliance on one another, and invites us to live with greater generosity. Ayni can be described as a sacred principle for all relationships. It applies to our interaction with one another, but also with our interaction with the planet. While it signifies to these Andean people something quite deep and pervasive, for us it is best described as reciprocity and the belief that we have an obligation to treat others with generosity, gratitude and respect. We recognize the gifts of Pachamama, Mother Earth, by giving thanks for all she gives us and by protecting her, and by recognizing we have nothing and are nothing without her. This is an incomplete and westernized explanation of Ayni. A Wrinkle in Time
I have been awake since predawn, rising early enough to see the Pleiades at the horizon in the north. Pleiades was a sacred constellation to the Incas, only visible in the dead of winter right around the winter solstice. It was one of the astronomical phenomena used to signal the time of renewal for Pachamama and the beginning of the new year. This morning Venus hovers brightly between Pleiades and the belt of Orion, a stunning beginning to what would become the most magical of days. The climb to Y--- is brutal. Everyone coming down the trail as we hiked up said the same thing: “Subida.” Steep. I’ll say! The villagers complete the hike up to Y--- in around two hours or less. We took three and a half hours moving steadily. The fog rolls in early today, so we walk in the cold mist. It creates a problem for me; I am sweating buckets laboring up the trail, and am alternately overheating with my warm clothes and freezing in the cold as I stop. It is almost comic. Vicente, sensitive to our struggles, encourages us every ten minutes with “Muy acerca!” “Very close!” He probably started this when we were still almost two hours from Y---. I judge that we must be at least at 16,000 feet by how quickly the lactic acid builds in my legs when I am walking. We are going up and up into what I think is a pass between two mountains, but I’m baffled that there’s a cascade pouring down alongside the trail. My sluggish brain doesn’t process this well; I am doing all I can to keep moving. I remember wondering, ‘Where is this water coming from?’ but the ability to engage with the thought was lingering beneath my three primary concerns: the cold, my weakened muscles, and wondering why I’m not eating more. It’s really dopey, but I find myself walking with a mouthful of coca leaf and doing just fine for hours, but eventually I get calorie deficient. It takes a ton of calories to live and work at high altitude, and this is the second time I have allowed myself to calorie crash. But we’re ‘muy acerca!’ We finally trudged into the ‘pass,’ and I discovered that the cascade comes from a large lake (of course!). It isn’t a pass at all; we have just climbed into another level in the Andes. It feels like we’ve entered another dimension. Periodically the fog lifts to expose spires and cliffs all around, certainly at the 18-19,000 foot level if not higher. We are stunned by the dramatic setting. By contrast, the sector of H___ seems lush; we are in a different ecosystem with far fewer plants and absolutely no trees. We continue to climb, though gradually, for another mile or more, passing more lakes, one of them very large. Vicente pointed out the cemetery as we hiked by; perhaps next year I will talk to him some about funeral and burial rites. As we approached Y---, we see Vicente’s two little boys, Peter and Samuel, standing on the hill watching us approach. Climbing this last hill, the boys bounced down into Vicente’s arms. Peter is four, Samuel two, but both could pass for younger children based on their size. They were fascinated by us, and a little afraid. I asked Vicente if they had ever had visitors in Y---; he replied in the negative, telling us that we are the first outsiders to the sector. No other Peruvians have ever visited. We are awed by that thought, to say the least. This community lives as it has for centuries with few changes. We noticed that both Marcelino and Vicente have installed small pieces of plexiglass in the roof of grass to provide a bit of light during the day. Vicente pointed out his pick and pry bar, thanking me for these. He showed me the simple latrine they are building with rocks; I didn’t go down to look, but hoped they have dug a really deep hole. A large lake sits about 200 meters away; another on the opposite side of the houses, about a half-mile away. I asked Vicente about fish farming; he showed me that they already have built rock barriers into the lake to protect the fingerlings from the bigger fish. We looked at each other and at the same time said, “Otro proyecto.” Another project. Desperate for some calories, I pounded down some of my trail mix, sharing it with all the children and adults. Had I known we were going to eat three more times, I would have been in less a hurry to eat. Within minutes of resting, Marcelino’s wife Graciela brought us cups of hot milk from the few cows in the village. It was this that convinced me to support the request for cows. The milk is rich and satisfying, and I think of these little malnourished children with access to fresh milk. It is a necessary source of protein. Felicitas, Vicente’s wife, was weaving on the ground outside their house. I’m not sure what inspired Penelope, but she asks if Felicitas will sing a traditional song for the video. She not only sang one, she sang three songs, one of which was accompanied by Vicente on the quena (Andean wood flute). I was ecstatic with joy and gratitude to be with these generous people, sharing a small part of their lives. I keep asking myself if all of this is really happening; it feels like a dream. Felicitas invited us into her stone hut for lunch. Cooking over a small fire against one side of the house, she had prepared soup, the ever-present potatoes, and a few small trout. We ate heartily. The home is simple, about eight feet by eighteen feet. Bedding of sheep skins and blankets is piled in a loft made of branches; at night it will come down. It could be comfortably warm with the seven people all sleeping together. Felicitas’ mother Santusa lives with them since her husband died. Her youngest child, Roberto, is six years old. Santusa is ill. It is one of our greatest heartaches as we engage more personally with the people to see that many need medical care that they will never receive. There has never been a doctor to visit the village. There is no clinic within days of walking. Santusa has stomach pain; it is written boldly on her face. She tells us she has had pain for about four years. When I ask if she can go for treatment, she shakes her head. Part of me wanted to give her medication for the pain, but I know this could lead to a changed relationship with their environment and with us. I am torn. I pray that we are able, through the Association of Ayllus, to renew the community’s relationship with medicinal plants. Some in one of the Andean communities must still practice traditional medicine. This is one of our greatest hopes for the ayllu project. This year when we sat with the families, we asked how many children have been born and lost to each family. We had been told that the mortality rate for infants is 47%. Indeed, our informal research substantiates this percentage. We must figure out a way to get better nutrition to the infants and to the nursing mothers. Without a doubt, poor prenatal nutrition and no prenatal care contribute to this high mortality rate.
This little baby, Juvental, was born a month early. He is weak and tiny; perhaps four pounds. We have seen other small babies on this trip. Several of the mothers are not lactating due to poor nutrition. We hope that the vitamins will begin to help, but it feels more like a band-aid than a solution to the pervasive malnutrition. Shortly thereafter we ate again in Marcelino’s house. More potatoes, more trout, an egg. These meals are the very best they have to offer; they represent a generosity hard to measure. While leaving the hamlet, Ascencio, another man who lives in Y---, ran up to us, insisting that we come to his house to eat as well! With hugs, we tell him we are unable, that we must start back down the mountain if we are to get back to H--- in the daylight. Our return to H--- took less than two hours. We walked in a fog, literally and emotionally ‘kissed by the sweet air from the jungle,’ as Alejandro says. A day of rest The next day we decided to explore down canyon. The fog rolled in at 9:00 a.m., wet enough to be called a drizzle. The cascades of the river fill pools below, canyon music wafting noisily from each. Many small huts stand out on the canyon walls, close to the river and high above. We realize they are shelters, like bivouacs, for the shepherds in case of sudden bad weather. They are made of rock, like all the buildings, but much smaller. Inside there is enough room for two or three people to lie down. In some we noticed fire pits and stored wood. Branches fill the doorway, holding down the roof grass and keeping the sheep out. The canyon gets progressively richer in flora and fauna as we descended. A mile below the village we began to see berries, many types of flowering plants, and thick grass. The trees increased in number, size, and variety. The fog thickens, and before long Jose appeared. He tells us that Alejandro, who stayed in the village to do some writing, was worried about us in the dense fog, and asked him to find us so we wouldn’t have problems. It is wet enough that we don’t mind turning back. We had hoped to hike far enough down to see the area in the canyon that prevents the People from taking their animals to the jungle, where they hope to build a decent road for travel. This walk will have to wait another year for me. The evening is full of the hair-cutting ceremony. We have two baptisms and five hair cuttings, the ahijado ceremony that binds us as compadres and padrinos to the parents and their child. As last year, the room is attentive and reverent, but we are much more relaxed from prior experience, and we laugh freely with the parents. The total ceremony took about three hours as each hair cutting is followed by sharing of soda and coca, and accompaniment by Leandro’s quena. Leandro is an excellent musician and his music serves as an ending prayer to each child’s blessing. The parents were appreciative; we all understand that the relationship we have established will be for the baby’s entire childhood. We were smarter this year, starting the ceremony in early afternoon, leaving us time afterward to prepare dinner and visit. The Ancianos…Wow!
We had been in R--- before. Last year, after the chaco (vicuna hunt) we passed through R--- on our way to The main hamlet. It is a beautiful little community of about twelve households. A gorgeous emerald lake rests a fifteen-minute walk above the homes. We find many of the community’s alpacas grazing the side hills around R---. Upon arrival, Michelle and I rested leeward of one of the homes, protecting ourselves from the biting wind. While in The main hamlet, we are generally so involved with community interaction we have less time than I would prefer to simply sit and soak in the beauty, so I revel in the inactivity. Penelope, ever the chronicler, explored with her camera. I overheard a conversation about a couple of skins drying on Jose’s roof. Apparently there are puma in the region that prey on the herd animals. The two alpaca skins remain from puma kills. This lead to an interesting conversation with Jose. The alpaca cost approximately thirty to forty dollars when purchased. This amount represents 3 to 4 months’ income for a family to replace an alpaca. This is an age-old story in the life of shepherds the world around. The verb ‘shepherd’ means to guide and protect. Yet the Q’ero can do little to protect their herds from the big cats. They can chase off the pumas if they spot them, but they can never get close enough to kill a cat. The only weapons they have to attack a cat are rocks and machetes. Unlike our area in the U.S., where trackers use dogs to tree mountain lions, there are no trees here in the Andes. Jose tells me the cats are too fast to catch, so they are not able to kill them. Having seen mountain lions in the wild up close, I can’t see myself confronting one with a machete very confidently. I assume that I am inadequately informed to discuss with understanding the relationship between the puma and the people. The puma, after all, is one of the sacred animals of the Andean people, along with the condor and the snake. The sacred city of Cuzco, in fact, was constructed in the shape of a puma, with the fortress Sacsaywayman the head of the puma. I will have to explore this more in the future.
R--- is home to seven of the community’s ancianos, the old ones. These are aged people who can no longer work enough to feed themselves, and thus need the care of others to survive. This can be quite a burden for families when the margins for survival are so thin already. When Vicente first told us about the ancianos and asked for financial support for them, we agreed without hesitation. For approximately fifty dollars per person, Heart Walk Foundation can buy grains and supplies for a year. There are fifteen ancianos over 60 years in the entire community, with seven in this particular sector. Three of the ancianos are brothers, and we are told that the youngest is in his eighties while the two older are in their nineties. No one knows for certain the ages. These three live with a woman in her seventies. Two other ancianos living here are Ignacia, the blind woman, and her husband Hilario.
This year, blind Ignacia climbed through the doorway of her home to greet us, using a cane to feel the ground for obstacles. She smiled and welcomed us, along with her husband Hilario, thanking us for the food we purchased for them. In response to our questions about what else she needs, she told us she gets cold and would like another sweater. I gave her mine. Next year we will be sure to bring warm jackets for the ancianos. We have to be more attentive, as well, to the food we supply for them. This year we bought fifty kilos of corn for each, but we realize this will be difficult for them to eat in the traditional way it is prepared. Typically, the kernels are soaked and boiled whole. The six ancianos we sit with today don’t have a full set of teeth between them; it will be difficult for them to masticate even the cooked corn. Softer grains, like quinoa, with its high protein content, will be much better. We sat together and share coca. I count this particular afternoon as one of my most revered memories of Peru. These old people have had very little contact with outsiders, so we are a bit of a novelty for them. “Hallpay Kusunchis, Wiracocha,” they say. “Let’s eat coca together, white man.” We brought our snack foods out, in zip lock bags. Michelle gives hers to Anita, who stared in wonder at the plastic bag. Michelle taught her how to open and seal the bag, which Anita did, beaming with pride. We were also delighted watching one of the brothers explore a nalgene water bottle. At more than ninety years of age, I had to show him how to unscrew the lid, after which he took a sip with the sweetest smile. I felt blessed for this time with the old ones. Leaving the Village The return hike over the pass and back to K--- rewarded us with astonishing beauty. Once again we saw vicuna in the highlands, a hopeful sign for the upcoming chaco (vicuna hunt) in a couple of weeks.
Our time from the village to the pass actually was quite fast compared to previous years, just over three hours. Though the wind always makes the pass frigid, the sun shines and warms us. We were in no hurry to get to K---, so we lingered at the pass in the sun, then took a nap a mile later at the lake. We resumed our walk when the afternoon fog appeared, which makes it more comfortable to walk than sit. Another highlight on the return hike was watching various people share music with Penelope on her MP3 player. At one point Penelope and Felicitas walked down the trail hand-in-hand, each with an earphone, both humming and singing to songs of prayer in the ancient Sanskrit language of Indian. K--- Competition The highlight of this day occurred in K---. We arrived fairly early in the afternoon, with a couple of hours of daylight left. The guys asked if we would pony up a sol per player to make a bet for a match against the K--- soccer team. We had just finished hiking from the village, easily a six hour walk, and these guys want to play soccer…at 14,000 feet! and in a freezing fog! I was wearing all of the warm clothes I had, yet the players strip down to shorts, jerseys, and bare feet. There is a one-meter square rock dead center in the middle of the playing field. Three of the four borders of the field are a school building, a column of huge rocks, and the river canyon. The teams played for nearly three hours, right up to dark. Our guys won two games. Watching them sprint around barefoot, kicking the ball as hard as they can in such biting cold, forced me to acknowledge my relative fragility compared to their hardiness. The Work Begins People always ask me if we had a nice vacation in Peru. It is not a vacation. While we are there, we work every day. We meet with the Q’eros leaders, shop for supplies and donations, make travel arrangements, and many other tasks. Meetings are hard to arrange, and there are complex issues to address with community leaders. These discussions are imperative. Yet, we also must have time to simply sit with one another, and share sacred coca. For westerners it is difficult to move at a respectful pace; we are always in a hurry to get the next task done. Whenever we think we have something adequately arranged, the plan comes unglued. We plan travel one day, and there is a paro, a strike or work stoppage, in which the roads are barricaded and people are not able to drive anywhere. After our night in the village of Taray, we had to walk several miles to the highway. The protestors in Taray had covered their only access road with huge boulders to prevent passage. The road would not be cleared for days. Or we decide on a meeting time with others, and someone doesn’t show up. Or we do paperwork with the bank, and something happens so we can’t make deposits into the account. All of these things require time to resolve, and days fly by with much of our attention consumed by these details. We slow down to be here now and enjoy the opportunity to learn and grow as human beings. |
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