As my first three weeks here draw to a close, I'm finding myself a little shocked that April is already upon us. After feeling completely overwhelmed for much of the first two and a half weeks, things are finally starting to settle down a little here mentally and emotionally, even as the pace is beginning to pick up in my work at Alto Cayma.
The past week was packed and seemed to fly by without a second glance. One way or another, things are moving ahead at Alto Cayma to begin the process of expanding the market for the knitted goods. As of now, we are sort of operating on two parallel planes. For the immediate goal of selling the products online through the Serving Alto Cayma website, we've been working on creating new designs, photographing existing models of products, and researching issues like shipping and online business transactions (successful on the second, but the shipping continues to be a problem). Longterm, I've been looking into the application process for the Fair Trade Federation, trying to identify the steps we will have to take and changes to be made, and how to accomplish all of this in an inclusive, but efficient manner. It can be a bit overwhelming at times, but I'm learning a lot both from talking to the ladies and from online research. Now here's how it all looks on the ground:
Monday I had been told would be our first shoot, but this ended up not to be the case. Instead we set out to try calling the Fair Trade group located in Arequipa again to set up a visit. On our way to the office to place the call, I mentioned again to Maria that I'd really like to meet with the ladies before we make the visit to find out what questions and concerns they would like to have answered through the visit, and before I knew it, Maria had turned around and marched back to the workshop, calling all of the knitters together for an impromptu meeting. Caught a little off guard, I did my best to recall the Fair Trade-related Spanish vocabulary I'd looked up the week before as I stumbled through a brief presentation in Spanish on the basics of Fair Trade and potential options for the group. With Maria's help, the ladies seemed to get the idea in the end and presented some very good questions. They are thrilled at the prospect of a steadier and more expanded market, but are also aware that it could take some time (meawhile, I'm trying to figure out how much we can possibly cram into four months).
We were eventually able to do two photoshoots during the week. Both were a little makeshift, but I think the photos turned out pretty well for our first round. We ended up draping whatever solid table cloths were able to find on the premises over plastic tables outside in the sun, then, while I stood on a chair to take the photo from above, the ladies switched the items laid out on the other table. We also took some photos with models (two volunteers from Canada and Holland and several of the knitters). The ladies who asked to model were very nervous once they actually found themselves in front of the camera, but it didn't take too much to get them to smile as they normally do. We still have a few more items to photograph, and then we will have to find a computer capable of importing the photos, but the goal is to get the photos up on a newly-created flickr account in the next week to begin getting some feedback on styles, colors, etc. before we go any further.
The rest of the week was spent either online or with the knitters finding out more about starting an online business, standardizing and creating coding for designs, sizing, and color, trying to understand more about the current pricing system and the distribution of the money that comes in, talking to Betsy about necessary equipment for the level of quality we wish to achieve as well as necessary health precautions we need to take for the workers. We seemed to fit a lot in, an amazing feat considering the amount of time still spent sitting and waiting (the hora peruana is alive and well).
I've also begun meeting 3 times a week for hour-long sessions with a Spanish tutor. Nancy has been wonderful so far--energetic and understanding when I get giddy about complex tenses (yeah...). And I've begun to have something of a social life, playing poker last night with Franny's Peruvian host sister from last summer and 4 European exchange students and enjoying the delicious food made by the owner of El Turco at a volunteer dinner last weekend. Other than that, I've been playing a lot of cards with Maria Paz and watching Pokemon every night at 7:30 with Nicolas (the tv was moved to my room, so we agreed to this nightly engagement to soften the blow a little). Not exactly a Peruvian socialite, but I'm pretty content with things:)
Thank you for all of your emails and continued interest in what is going on down here. I promise to have photos up soon, both of the products and of the people here...maybe some mountains as well. Please keep your eyes open for a posting or email (or both) about this, because your opinions as North American consumers (as well as friends and family) are very important to figuring out the direction we wish to take stylewise and I will be asking you to look over the photos of current designs to offer suggestions.
Until then, enjoy the first days of April and take care.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Point of Clarification
Before I go any further, I'd like to clarify a few things which I believe may be causing some confusion. I am living in the city of Arequipa with my host family in the district of Cayma, which is located fairly close to the center of the city. I'm not sure exactly how far the district extends, but from what I've seen it is a very well-off part of town. My family, for example, lives in a flat with paper-flushing toilets, hot water, a microwave, two laptops, and a washing machine. Alto Cayma, on the other hand, is further northwest and is for the most part a very impoverished district. Commuting each day between the two sites is like moving between the developed and developing world in 20 minutes. It's a stark contrast. The way things work is that as new people migrate to Arequipa, they build makeshift dwellings on land that is unoccupied on the outskirts of town. Over time, they are able to improve their living conditions (if they are lucky) so that those areas gradually acquire running water, electricity, etc., and the next group builds out beyond them. The result is that over the past 20 years, Alto Cayma and other settlements like it have crept up the base of the mountains so that the outskirts of Alto Cayma are basically at the foot of Mt. Chachani. The farther you move from the city center and the closer you get to the mountains, the more makeshift the dwellings and more scarce the power lines. I think I might also be causing a little confusion by using Alto Cayma to refer to both the larger settlement described above and the more specific community based around the parish with whom I spend most of my time. I'm probably not going to stop doing this, but just know that it can refer to either the entire region or the more specific group.
If you are still unclear about Alto Cayma, I would recommend reading the first posting, "A Little Background" (if you haven't already), as Jim does a better job than I can of explaining the demographics and living conditions. You can also visit the Serving Alto Cayma website for visuals: http://www.serving-alto-cayma.info/. I hope that helps.
If you are still unclear about Alto Cayma, I would recommend reading the first posting, "A Little Background" (if you haven't already), as Jim does a better job than I can of explaining the demographics and living conditions. You can also visit the Serving Alto Cayma website for visuals: http://www.serving-alto-cayma.info/. I hope that helps.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
A Day in the Life
[I've been trying to break all that I've been experiencing into bite-sized pieces for busy lives, but this is the best I was able to do. I kow my mom will read it, but for the rest of you, just do what you can!]
Originally I had planned to write a description of a typical day here, but after two weeks, such a thing still does not seem to exist. Instead I will give you an account of my day Friday...I guess the atypicalness of it constitutes a certain normalcy. You can imagine the rest.
I woke up this morning after a night of strange dreams (the dreams are one constant since I've been here, I think because of eating spicy foods late at night?). I usually begin to wake up around 6:00 am when the kids have to get up for school and Nicolas begins shouting and Brauni (the Yorkshire) takes off running up and down the hallway barking like mad. I stubbornly cling to half-sleep until about 7:45 when I get up and shower then wander groggily into the kitchen for breakfast, trying to shift my brain back into Spanish mode after a night of at least half-English dreaming. Breakfast usually consists of fresh bread from the bakery down the street, cheese, jam, sometimes oatmeal, sometimes eggs, Gloria (the liquid drinkable yogurt which I love), and tea. Lately it's just been Roxana (my host mom) and me at the table, and we tend to extend the breakfast hour into 2 with long talks covering many topics, but which tend to return quite frequently to the status of women in Peru (much more on that later).
Today I ended up getting out the door by 9:45 and walked a couple blocks to the busy intersection down the hill to catch the combi. Combis are the Arequipeñan version of public transportation--large, beat-up vans with seats for approximately 25 and a driver, but which squeeze in as many humans as are willing to pay the 0.60 soles (roughly 20 cents) to ride to their corner of choice. On lucky days (only one so far), it's the Primero de Junio B which drops me off just outside the Church; the rest of the time I walk up the hill from the corner where I am dropped on the Enace route.
Today was an Enace day, but only in ends, not means. As on every other day, I was staring out the window at beatiful Mt. Misti looming in the distance, The Clash's "Train in Vain" blaring over the speakers (followed by "I Want You To Want Me," "Can't Buy Me Love," and some reggaeton). Soon, though, I noticed we weren't on our usual route up Avenida Bolegnesi, flying instead through the middle of the countryside just outside town. The other passengers seemed to have noticed the same thing (except for the middle-aged man asleep in the seat across from mine). Only the driver and coin collector leaning agaist the door seemed unconcerned. A mother sitting behind me with her toddler made some comment to the young man collecting fares, but he just shrugged. I wasn't too worried, because my stop was farther up the line, and sure enough we managed to get back on the route in time for me to get down at my usual stop. The scenery was a nice change from the usually urban landscape, but I did feel bad for the passengers who had to walk back down the hill to wherever they'd intended to be dropped.
Once down, I hiked up to the church and stopped in to greet the señoras. Mornings are spent knitting on the machines, so there is less room for conversation. I got out my own feeble attempt at a scarf, and started knitting away/playing with the toddler of one of the ladies until Maria the social worker stopped in. Spotting me at my knitting, she asked if I would like to accompany her to some location I didn't quite catch. This is also becoming a constant. "Emily, quieres acompañarme a _______?" To which I always respond, "Sí," then follow her out the door walking in whatever direction. The walk can be anywhere from ten to 30 minutes and in literally any direction to whichever family has requested her services. Going on house visits has been really helpful to get a broader view of Alto Cayma and the issues with which the people are struggling (I promise to go into more detail on all of this in future postings). Today, after about 15 minutes walking down the hill in the sun, we found ourselves at the office of Natali, the pro bono lawyer paid by the parish to handle cases of domestic violence and family law for the local women, services desperately needed in the community where fathers frequently abandon their wives and children and domestic abuse is nothing out of the ordinary. Maria tended to some business with Natali, then were given a ride back up to the church by Carelia, stopping on the way in search of a working internet connection and printer to print out necessary documents.
Once we returned to the church, I began my campaign to accomplish the two goals I had laid out for the day: to nail down details for the scheduled "photo shoot" on Monday of the products to be put on the website and to schedule an appointment to visit the Fair Trade group already operating in Arequipa. After visiting the site, we can begin to assess if this is the direction we wish to take, or if we will set out on a different route, so it's important that we get moving on it as soon as possible. The first item was accomplished without any problem, but the scheduling of the visit didn't go as smoothly as planned. I sat down with Maria armed with phone numbers, websites, and brochures only to find out that the internet was down and the phone line not working for some reason. We'll just wait a bit, she told me. So we did.
In the meantime, the knitters were planning yet another performance of a traditional dance to thank a visiting volunteer who has worked with them over the years. Unaware that this was happening, I sat listening to the music with Maria, waiting for the next move (a little impatiently, I admit). After a little while, we set about creating a display of a new line of cards the ladies have begun making with yarn--very beautiful. Again, I was unsure exactly what was going on, only that someone named Maria Josefa from Inglaterra was going to come and look at the cards.
Once the cards were laid out, Maria once again asked me that familiar question of accompanying her somewhere, and I, of course, said "Sí." We set out walking to yet another unknown location, this time ending up at a nearby nursery where a British couple and their grown Peruvian foster son were playing with children from the area. It turns out the two of them have, over the course of 20 years, opened a number of nurseries in Lima and Arequipa which focus on mental stimulation in addition to basic nutritional needs. After brief introductions, the five of us walked back to the church where the señoras were busy setting out chairs and getting the music ready. Once everyone was seated, Frida entered, dancing a dance from the nearby Colca Valley in a beautiful dress typical to the area. At the end of the dance, Maria gave a short speech of thanks and birthday wishes to Maria Josefa (actually Mary Joyce, as it turned out) then the ladies lined up to give hugs and wish her a happy birthday. Once this was all over, everyone went back to work, and I found that Maria had disappeared.
I waited a while longer, hoping to catch her and make the phone call, but when she returned, she informed me that there was still no phone line. I had promised Roxana I would be home in time for lunch at 2:00, so I had to leave without setting up the appointment. Maria assured me would be able to do so Monday, but we'll see...
I returned home via Enace, seated next to a man with a full-sized tv covered in an old towel sitting on his lap and a lady in business clothes with a baby. This time, the route was followed and I returned home in time for lunch with Roxana and Max.
Lunch is the biggest meal of the day, generally eaten sometime between 2 and 3:30. There is usually a first course of soup or some type of salad or avacado dish, followed by a main plate. This plate always, always, includes rice, and more often than not some type of potatoes (the variety of potatoes here is staggering). Today was rice with chicken in a sauce made out of ají, a spicy pepper also found in a good majority of the dishes here. In spite of what we were told before coming about Americans being viewed as rude for our speedy dining habits, I am always the last one eating and am given no end of grief about this by Max.
After lunch we sat and chatted for a bit, then I took a short nap. The kids returned home at 3:30, so I played with them for a while then we sat and watched cartoons with one of their cousins. At first I avoided watching the mostly American tv with the kids, but it's turned out to be good practice as they are all dubbed in Spanish and the characters speak quickly and use more colloquial language. Sometimes a little painful to watch, realizing that this is what is being exported around the world, but...
Ater I had had my fill of Cartoon Network in Spanish, I set out to journal the day's events in Spanish. It's still difficult and I sometimes let myself off the hook when I have had an especially emotional day, but learning the vocabulary necessary to describe the days events and to express what I think and feel about them has been invaluable and a step towards being able to express them verbally. Still, it can be a headache, and I have to make myself take the time to do it.
Dinner is always late, usually after 8:00. Last night was nothing too elaborate, alphabet soup and grilled ham sandwiches, but we had a good time listening to Max's stories of his childhood and watching Nicolas reenact elaborate scenes from various movies. I really enjoy my family here the more I get to know them and understand their sense of humor.
After dinner, I sent a few emails, finished up my journal, thought of all my loved ones scattered around the world, and went to sleep exhausted.
And that is a day in the life.
Originally I had planned to write a description of a typical day here, but after two weeks, such a thing still does not seem to exist. Instead I will give you an account of my day Friday...I guess the atypicalness of it constitutes a certain normalcy. You can imagine the rest.
I woke up this morning after a night of strange dreams (the dreams are one constant since I've been here, I think because of eating spicy foods late at night?). I usually begin to wake up around 6:00 am when the kids have to get up for school and Nicolas begins shouting and Brauni (the Yorkshire) takes off running up and down the hallway barking like mad. I stubbornly cling to half-sleep until about 7:45 when I get up and shower then wander groggily into the kitchen for breakfast, trying to shift my brain back into Spanish mode after a night of at least half-English dreaming. Breakfast usually consists of fresh bread from the bakery down the street, cheese, jam, sometimes oatmeal, sometimes eggs, Gloria (the liquid drinkable yogurt which I love), and tea. Lately it's just been Roxana (my host mom) and me at the table, and we tend to extend the breakfast hour into 2 with long talks covering many topics, but which tend to return quite frequently to the status of women in Peru (much more on that later).
Today I ended up getting out the door by 9:45 and walked a couple blocks to the busy intersection down the hill to catch the combi. Combis are the Arequipeñan version of public transportation--large, beat-up vans with seats for approximately 25 and a driver, but which squeeze in as many humans as are willing to pay the 0.60 soles (roughly 20 cents) to ride to their corner of choice. On lucky days (only one so far), it's the Primero de Junio B which drops me off just outside the Church; the rest of the time I walk up the hill from the corner where I am dropped on the Enace route.
Today was an Enace day, but only in ends, not means. As on every other day, I was staring out the window at beatiful Mt. Misti looming in the distance, The Clash's "Train in Vain" blaring over the speakers (followed by "I Want You To Want Me," "Can't Buy Me Love," and some reggaeton). Soon, though, I noticed we weren't on our usual route up Avenida Bolegnesi, flying instead through the middle of the countryside just outside town. The other passengers seemed to have noticed the same thing (except for the middle-aged man asleep in the seat across from mine). Only the driver and coin collector leaning agaist the door seemed unconcerned. A mother sitting behind me with her toddler made some comment to the young man collecting fares, but he just shrugged. I wasn't too worried, because my stop was farther up the line, and sure enough we managed to get back on the route in time for me to get down at my usual stop. The scenery was a nice change from the usually urban landscape, but I did feel bad for the passengers who had to walk back down the hill to wherever they'd intended to be dropped.
Once down, I hiked up to the church and stopped in to greet the señoras. Mornings are spent knitting on the machines, so there is less room for conversation. I got out my own feeble attempt at a scarf, and started knitting away/playing with the toddler of one of the ladies until Maria the social worker stopped in. Spotting me at my knitting, she asked if I would like to accompany her to some location I didn't quite catch. This is also becoming a constant. "Emily, quieres acompañarme a _______?" To which I always respond, "Sí," then follow her out the door walking in whatever direction. The walk can be anywhere from ten to 30 minutes and in literally any direction to whichever family has requested her services. Going on house visits has been really helpful to get a broader view of Alto Cayma and the issues with which the people are struggling (I promise to go into more detail on all of this in future postings). Today, after about 15 minutes walking down the hill in the sun, we found ourselves at the office of Natali, the pro bono lawyer paid by the parish to handle cases of domestic violence and family law for the local women, services desperately needed in the community where fathers frequently abandon their wives and children and domestic abuse is nothing out of the ordinary. Maria tended to some business with Natali, then were given a ride back up to the church by Carelia, stopping on the way in search of a working internet connection and printer to print out necessary documents.
Once we returned to the church, I began my campaign to accomplish the two goals I had laid out for the day: to nail down details for the scheduled "photo shoot" on Monday of the products to be put on the website and to schedule an appointment to visit the Fair Trade group already operating in Arequipa. After visiting the site, we can begin to assess if this is the direction we wish to take, or if we will set out on a different route, so it's important that we get moving on it as soon as possible. The first item was accomplished without any problem, but the scheduling of the visit didn't go as smoothly as planned. I sat down with Maria armed with phone numbers, websites, and brochures only to find out that the internet was down and the phone line not working for some reason. We'll just wait a bit, she told me. So we did.
In the meantime, the knitters were planning yet another performance of a traditional dance to thank a visiting volunteer who has worked with them over the years. Unaware that this was happening, I sat listening to the music with Maria, waiting for the next move (a little impatiently, I admit). After a little while, we set about creating a display of a new line of cards the ladies have begun making with yarn--very beautiful. Again, I was unsure exactly what was going on, only that someone named Maria Josefa from Inglaterra was going to come and look at the cards.
Once the cards were laid out, Maria once again asked me that familiar question of accompanying her somewhere, and I, of course, said "Sí." We set out walking to yet another unknown location, this time ending up at a nearby nursery where a British couple and their grown Peruvian foster son were playing with children from the area. It turns out the two of them have, over the course of 20 years, opened a number of nurseries in Lima and Arequipa which focus on mental stimulation in addition to basic nutritional needs. After brief introductions, the five of us walked back to the church where the señoras were busy setting out chairs and getting the music ready. Once everyone was seated, Frida entered, dancing a dance from the nearby Colca Valley in a beautiful dress typical to the area. At the end of the dance, Maria gave a short speech of thanks and birthday wishes to Maria Josefa (actually Mary Joyce, as it turned out) then the ladies lined up to give hugs and wish her a happy birthday. Once this was all over, everyone went back to work, and I found that Maria had disappeared.
I waited a while longer, hoping to catch her and make the phone call, but when she returned, she informed me that there was still no phone line. I had promised Roxana I would be home in time for lunch at 2:00, so I had to leave without setting up the appointment. Maria assured me would be able to do so Monday, but we'll see...
I returned home via Enace, seated next to a man with a full-sized tv covered in an old towel sitting on his lap and a lady in business clothes with a baby. This time, the route was followed and I returned home in time for lunch with Roxana and Max.
Lunch is the biggest meal of the day, generally eaten sometime between 2 and 3:30. There is usually a first course of soup or some type of salad or avacado dish, followed by a main plate. This plate always, always, includes rice, and more often than not some type of potatoes (the variety of potatoes here is staggering). Today was rice with chicken in a sauce made out of ají, a spicy pepper also found in a good majority of the dishes here. In spite of what we were told before coming about Americans being viewed as rude for our speedy dining habits, I am always the last one eating and am given no end of grief about this by Max.
After lunch we sat and chatted for a bit, then I took a short nap. The kids returned home at 3:30, so I played with them for a while then we sat and watched cartoons with one of their cousins. At first I avoided watching the mostly American tv with the kids, but it's turned out to be good practice as they are all dubbed in Spanish and the characters speak quickly and use more colloquial language. Sometimes a little painful to watch, realizing that this is what is being exported around the world, but...
Ater I had had my fill of Cartoon Network in Spanish, I set out to journal the day's events in Spanish. It's still difficult and I sometimes let myself off the hook when I have had an especially emotional day, but learning the vocabulary necessary to describe the days events and to express what I think and feel about them has been invaluable and a step towards being able to express them verbally. Still, it can be a headache, and I have to make myself take the time to do it.
Dinner is always late, usually after 8:00. Last night was nothing too elaborate, alphabet soup and grilled ham sandwiches, but we had a good time listening to Max's stories of his childhood and watching Nicolas reenact elaborate scenes from various movies. I really enjoy my family here the more I get to know them and understand their sense of humor.
After dinner, I sent a few emails, finished up my journal, thought of all my loved ones scattered around the world, and went to sleep exhausted.
And that is a day in the life.
Monday, March 19, 2007
A little background...
The following was written by Jim Hintze, a Rotarian who has been dividing his time with his wife, Gloria, between the United States and Peru the past few years, working on countless projects in Alto Cayma. It provides a general idea of the area where I am working, and I´ve also pasted the link to the website for Serving Alto Cayma below and on the side bar to provide you with some visuals. I will try to have some of my own pictures up soon, but until then, this will give you a general feel for the area.
About Alto Cayma
Alto Cayma is a settlement on the outskirts of Arequipa, Peru’s second largest city. Arequipa is 1,000 km. (a 14-hour bus ride, or 1:15 plane ride) south of Lima. From Arequipa it is a 4-5 hour drive to Puno, Lake Titicaca and the Bolivian border, and approximately an equal distance to Tacna and the border with Chile. Three dormant volcanoes (Chachani, El Misti and Picchu Picchu) form a semi-circle around one side of Arequipa, and Alto Cayma is situated “on the skirts of Chachani”, as they say here. The Chili River valley divides Alto Cayma from the settlements going up towards El Misti.
Arequipa is at an altitude of 7,800 feet, and Alto Cayma is approximately 1,000 feet above the city. Looking down into the river valley one sees green, irrigated fields, but up in Alto Cayma it is very arid, with very little vegetation. Being not far south of the Equator, the seasons are reversed from ours but the temperature doesn’t vary much throughout the year. It typically is in the upper 70s during the day, and gets down into the low 50s at night. In Jul and Aug there are very strong winds every morning which fill the air with blowing dust and volcanic sand, especially up in dry, dusty Alto Cayma. Jan and Feb are the “rainy” season, but even then it doesn’t rain much. On top of the volcanoes, however, at altitudes of over 19,000 feet, the precipitation falls as snow, making the mountains a dramatic backdrop to the city panorama. There are 300 days of sunshine per year in Arequipa which, coupled with the agreeable temperatures, explains why we say that every morning the people of Arequipa look out their windows and say, “How boring – another fine day!”
About the People
At last count, there were 28,000 people living in Alto Cayma, with more arriving every day. People have been migrating for years from other parts of Peru to settlements like Alto Cayma for a number of reasons. Some, for example, came for security during the era of the Shining Path guerilla movement, but most come for economic reasons. Most of the people in Alto Cayma come from the mountains and highlands of southern Peru, and many of the older ones speak Spanish as a second language (the Quechua Indian dialect being their mother tongue).
When the people first arrive, they occupy any piece of vacant land and build a rude dwelling of “sillar” (soft volcanic stone) blocks, with a dirt floor and a corrugated metal roof. When enough such people, who are known as “invaders”, have congregated in a new area, they petitition the government for formal recognition as a settlement. Over time, the people work to improve their houses and their neighborhood.
Although the people migrate to the city for economic reasons, initially they may be worse off than they were in their mountain villages. They come with few employable skills with which to make a living in the city economy. As a result, they are relegated to performing manual labor for $3-4 a day. Even this work is unsteady, making each day literally a struggle for survivial. If the family has several children, or elderly parents who can no longer work, this small amount of money is nowhere near enough to go around. Under such severe economic pressure, the elderly are often neglected. Also, since school supplies, materials and uniforms cost money, the education of the children must sometimes be sacrificed.
Generally speaking, the people bear their hardships with grace and keep an optimistic spirit. Since there is no economic safety net for poor people in a country as impoverished as Peru (the second poorest country in South America, with an unemployment rate of 50% or more), there is no such thing as an “entitlement mentality”. The people know that their welfare depends on their own efforts, they are eager to learn new skills and are sincerely grateful for any opportunity anyone can give them to help themselves to get ahead. Despite their poverty, the people readily welcome visitors into their homes and offer to share whatever little they may have. They also enjoy church and community gatherings and events, where they can interact with their friends and neighbors at no cost.
Who’s There to Help the People?
The government in a poor country such as Peru doesn’t have the resources to help the people much. Their major source of aid is their parrish priest, Father Alex Busuttil. Father Alex is a native of Malta and is a member of the Missionary Society of Saint Paul, a small religious congregation that originated on that small Mediterranean island. While studying for the priesthood, he had the opportunity to serve an internship with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, and became devoted to serving the poorest of the poor. Two years after his ordination, he was posted to Pakistan where he served for 7 years, followed by 2 years in Libya before moving on to Peru. He served for 4 years in a parrish down the hill from Alto Cayma in Arequipa before moving up to Alto Cayma 8 years ago. He speaks Maltese, English, Spanish, Italian, Urdu and Punjabi, although the latter 3 have grown quite rusty since he moved to Peru.
Father Alex has accomplished much in his 8 years in Alto Cayma (miracles, many would say). He built a Child Care Center which today provides early education, nutrition and other benefits to 120 children. He has built community kitchens with capacity to provide up to 650 nutritious meals a day for the most needy. He has built two churches, and is currently constructing a new Pastoral Center to better serve his parrishioners. He has built a medical clinic which offers the most commonly needed specialties (General Medicine, Pediatrics, Obstetrics and Dental) plus a lab, a pharmacy and psychological services. This clinic now has histories on over 9,000 patients. He has a sponsorship program with CFCA (Christian Foundation for Children and Aging) which helps support 300 of the neediest children. He has created vocational training workshops for knitting (both hand and machine), computing, and just recently the building trades. When people hear where he’s been and what he’s done, they think he must be 100 years old, but he’s not. He’s still an energetic youngster of 49.
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