Perusing in Peru!: April 2012

The past few weeks have been incredibly busy for me. I had training in the department of Ancash for a week, followed by four days of free vacation, which I spent in Arequipa with two of my best PC friends, then an HIV/AIDS prevention training in Piura. Instead of boring you with all the details of the past few weeks, I’ll share with you something that I learned at training- something that definitely made me think.

67% of kids aged 10-14 in Peru live in poverty or extreme poverty. Some live on less than 1 sol a day, equivalent to approximately $0.38.

Can you imagine living on 38 cents a day? That can’t even buy you a can of pop or a candy bar. Most people probably have more than 38 cents in their couch cushions, waiting to be sucked up by the vacuum cleaner during spring-cleaning. It seems impossible to live on such a small amount of money.

To put into perspective what one can buy with 1 sol, I’ll give you a few examples. A bottle of water costs 1 sol on the street. 1 sol would buy me a packet of 4 Oreos. If I only had 1 sol a day to spend, I would have to decide on food or water- I could not have both.

I could write about this topic and its importance, but I think you all can realize the severity of it. So I’ll leave you with a new goal I have for myself: Next time I want to complain about something, I will think about the 67% of children in Peru that have less than 38 cents to get them through the day. Maybe you should try it, too.

“It doesn't matter if the glass is half empty or half full. Be thankful that you have a glass and grateful that there's something in it.”
-Anonymous

Today was a day unlike any other. A day I hope I never have to experience again. A day I both HATED and LOVED Peace Corps at the same time. Today I helped my best friend Brielle move out of her host family’s house.

Why was this day so hard for me, when it wasn’t even MY host family? Because Juana, Brielle’s host mom, is the most loving, down-to-earth, sincere Peruvian I have ever met. Juana is sarcastic. She likes to joke about dying before her (recently achieved) 60^th birthday. She likes to drink beer on Sundays. She likes to drink beer on Wednesdays. She likes to drink beer in the afternoon when she gets home from a hard days’ work in the chakra. Juana is an incredibly hard worker. She is up before the sun rises, doing back-breaking labor in her family’s rice, mango, and tamarindo fields. She makes breakfast and lunch for her large family, and enjoys eating every single meal with them. Her husband, whom she still loves very much, died over 10 years ago, leaving her with their six children. Juana has a beautiful rose garden on her front porch, in which her late husband used to pick her a rose every single evening. Juana loves with all of her heart. Her family, six kids and 10 grandchildren, mean the world to her. She will (and does) drop anything to help them out. If she’s not in the chakra, cleaning the house, taking a nap on the “cool” front porch, or busying herself in some other way, you can find her in her daughter’s house (located just behind hers) helping with her brand new twin godchildren. Juana loves her grandkids. She has a tough exterior, but when you put one of her grandchildren in front of her, she melts like a popsicle. Her love for them overflows.

How do I know all of these things about Juana? Because Brielle had the privilege of living with this fine woman. Brielle and Juana got along wonderfully because they are both incredibly sarcastic and dry. A sarcastic Peruvian is hard to come by, so when we realized how Juana was, we knew we had found a winner. Juana will tell Brielle when she doesn’t like her nail polish; when her shirt looks bad; when the front porch haircut I gave her looks terrible. Juana doesn’t hold anything back; good or bad. And this is why she is so easy to fall in love with. She may be tough, and she may tell you when you look like you’ve gained a few pounds, but she also loves until the very end.

At first, Juana was hard to read. Did she like Brielle? Did she mind that I visited often, sat down, and talked with her? Was she weirded out by two gringas taking over her kitchen to make macaroni and cheese? In regards to the mac and cheese, I’m sure she thought we were crazy, but as for the other stuff, I could tell she liked having us around. It was the little things that she did that showed us her true self. One day Brielle calls me hysterically laughing because of an exchange she had just had with Juana. Juana was in the process of buying a table for Brielle so should could do work and store things there. Brielle didn’t realize the table was for her, and bought herself another one, too. It wasn’t until later that Brielle finally realized BOTH tables were for her and that the “crazy words Juana was yelling” were actually telling her that she’d already bought Brielle a table. Juana didn’t have to buy Brielle a table- but she noticed Brielle sitting on the floor writing on a piece of paper- and she just did it. Just like Juana didn’t have to clean and sweep Brielle’s room once a week- she just did. She didn’t have to do Brielle’s laundry- she just did. She didn’t have to invite me to dinner- she just did. She didn’t have to give me my own bed in her house- she just did. That’s Juana, though. She does things for other people just because she can. Because she cares.

The moment I realized just how much Juana cared was at her 60^th birthday celebration. I was lucky enough to have been invited to the festivities, and Brielle and I thoroughly enjoyed watching the family dynamic taking place. A tradition in the Torres household is to have all of the family members gather around the cake and sing while the birthday person makes a wish. Brielle and I were respectfully standing in the back, videotaping and taking pictures, when all of the sudden we hear everyone yelling “ANA! ANA!” (They call her Ana because Brielle is hard to pronounce). Juana said, “Come up here, stand with us! You are my 7^th child.” I almost started crying right then and there. A woman, who had only known Brielle 8 months, had taken her in as her own, and called her a child. The love that emanates from that woman is astounding. It is then that I knew Brielle had hit the host-family jackpot.

Because of my deep respect and love for Juana, today was one of the hardest days of my service. Brielle has to change sites. She will be moving to another site in Piura that is bigger, has more work to offer, and most importantly, cleaner. Brielle has been struggling with health issues ever since she moved to Tamarindo in August, and the only option she had left was to change sites. Although changing sites will open many doors for Brielle, it will also close one very important one. She had to say goodbye to Juana and the rest of her Tamarindo family.

The reason I love and hate Peace Corps all at the same time? I love it because I was given the opportunity, because I had the privilege to meet and get to know a woman whom I will never forget. Juana is and will forever be one of my favorite Peruvians. When she discovered that I was having host-family troubles of my own, she said I was more than welcome to stay at her house whenever I wanted, for as long as I needed. She was willing to take me in as her second gringa daughter. I am a better person for knowing Juana. This is why I love the Peace Corps.

I hate the Peace Corps because of how this situation was handled. I went with Brielle to pack her things and move some of her stuff out. We were given explicit orders not to say a word to the family about what was happening. We couldn’t tell them that Brielle was moving; that she wouldn’t be coming back. We couldn’t say goodbye. What makes it worse, is that Juana knew. She saw us taking down the pictures and posters, folding and packing all her clothes, taking down the mosquito net above the bed. She knew. She asked if Brielle was going back to the States. All we could say was no. We were told to tell Juana that Brielle was heading to Lima to meet with the doctors. Brielle was going to Lima with FOUR suitcases and ALL of her clothes. She was going to Lima, and leaving the rest of her belongings in nice, neat, little piles on her bed, waiting to be picked up by our Regional Coordinator next week when he “explains” the situation to Juana (aka he LIES to her). She was going to Lima for an indefinite period of time. Lies, lies, lies. Juana isn’t stupid- she knew what was happening. Seeing the look on her face- the hurt, the confusion, the disappointment- broke our hearts. And we couldn’t do a single thing about it. As we were loading the rest of the suitcases in our taxi, Juana just stood on the porch, trying not to cry. Juana is a strong woman, and crying is not something that she does often. So when I saw the tear that was forming in her eye, I knew just how hurt and upset she was. When I went in for the side-cheek-kiss to say goodbye, Juana grabbed me in a full-on hug. She said to me, “Are you leaving, too? Will you come back to visit me?” How could I say anything but, “Of course I’ll be back, Juana.” Brielle and Juana shared a lengthy hug in which Brielle had to lie and say, “I’ll see you in a couple days.” Neither one of us could look at her without getting teary-eyed. As we sat in the cab and watched Juana wave on the front porch, we both broke down. Juana kept on a brave front, but anyone that knows her could tell that she was dying inside. The last time I saw Juana, she was gripping the back of a patio chair, trying to put a smile on her face.

Thinking about how upset I am, I can hardly imagine how Brielle must be feeling. Juana was Brielle’s Peruvian mother. Juana took care of her when she was sick, and worried about her when she wasn’t home in time for dinner. Juana cared for Brielle like she was one of her own. My love, thoughts, and prayers go out to both Juana and Brielle as they both have to adjust to a new life. Apart.