As with all my weeks here, these past few have been marked by the close quarters kept by little and big joys and sorrows. Every day I see a little more of the struggles the women maintain to get by, and every day I am amazed by their ability to continue to laugh together in the face of it all and to show each other the kindnesses that make these trials bearable.
At the end of last week the new designs were ready to go for the sweaters, but the ladies were still busy working on school uniforms. A little concerned that they had not yet completed an order I believed was due weeks ago, I sat down with Betsy to see what had happened so we could address whatever changes needed to be made for future orders. The problem, however, turned out to be on the other end as the order had not been placed by the school, but rather by parents on an individual basis so that the ladies were forced to wait to make each batch as the parents trickled in to pick up one or two more.
¨It's tragic¨ Betsy said at the end of her explanation, and I laughed, thinking she was referring to the fact that the ladies were still working on the unimaginative uniforms after all these days, then suddenly realized as she went on talking that I had misunderstood and that the tragedy to which she was referring is that the parents don't have the money to buy all of the school supplies for their children at once, and so they are still waiting, two months into the semester, to buy their children uniforms that would cost next to nothing in our terms. (The ladies finally decided to give the order to another group to finish, and so we are now able to focus on our own designs).
Situations like these never cease to astound me. The struggles the people face, not only to get by another day but to make things a little better for the children in the midst of deep inequalities and limited access to resources, make me wonder at times how we will ever make any sort of lasting change. With every attempted step forward comes any number of unforeseen obstacles and difficulties pulling them back. Yet somehow hope still exists.
Last Friday I witnessed another example of this refusal to give up faith when three of the women who were offered work at a store downtown made the decision to instead stay with the group and stick it out a little longer. María told me that they believe in what we are trying to do and believe in the group, and so they would rather keep going the way things are for now than have things a little better shortterm. I was also deeply encouraged by the number of people who turned out for a march two Sundays ago against delinquency, domestic violence, and other sources of insecurity in Alto Cayma. Children, parents, policemen, a school marching band and a good number of senior citizens were followed by a line of combis as they marched 1.5 hours under the blazing Arequipeñan sun, handing out pamphlets on creating a safer community, carrying signs, and playing music through the streets of Alto Cayma. The march ended at the church with chicha morada (a drink made from blue corn) for all and a general sense of goodwill as members of the community spent the afternoon together after taking a collective stand.
Thursday the 26th also marked 22 years for me, and it turned out to be a very nice day with my friends and family away from home. I started the day with Betsy searching the Centro for various types of wool for the new models. When we arrived at the workshop later in the morning some of the ladies were still busy working away at the machines while others bustled in and out, whispering to each other secretively in Quechua. We ended up seated around the multi-purpose plastic tables with plates loaded down with pollo a la brasa and pastel de papas as well as a cake with "Emli" written on the top in yellow frosting. Once everyone had finished eating, we put on the music of Colca, a nearby valley which is the childhood home of many of the women. Some sang and we all took a turn at dancing. As some of the women headed back to work in the workshop, a few stayed behind to sing a few of their favorite traditional songs which I could have listened to for hours (I uploaded some footage of one of the songs to youtube for all to enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MXMwWgpCC3c ). When I got home that evening, I had another round of cake with my host family (including grandma, aunt, and cousins) and empanadas. Along with a few skype calls home and all of the birthday wishes that made their way to Peru, it turned out to be a lovely day. I am not going to be able to respond individually to all, but please know that they were very much appreciated, thank you!
I am going to close this time with a brief lesson in Quechua, the language handed down from the Incan civilization and still spoken by some 10 million people in the Andes. This is an approximation, as each knitter offered me a different pronunciation and spelling (there seems to be a great deal of regional variation), so use your imagination. We recently started learning the numbers in English, and in exchange I was taught Quechua for 1-20 so we'll begin with the numbers as well:
One: juk [huk]
Two: ishkay [EESH kai]
Three: quimsa [KEEM sah]
One more note--photos are finally up! Click on this link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/efifield26/ or the one on the right side of the page and it should take you right there. Enjoy!
Friday, April 27, 2007
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Well, I started off well keeping up on this blog, but I sort of got a little lax these past couple of weeks. For that I apologize, but I do have my reasons. First, since I passed the one month mark April 11, I've been feeling a little frantic thinking of all that still needs to be done before the end of July and have been running around a bit like a headless chicken.
These past few weeks I've also been busy in a new role--that of fashion designer. Please don't laugh. The ladies are so talented, but some of the designs and colors are better suited for the Peruvian market (which doesn't really exist for them at this point) than the American/European market to which we are hoping to connect. So what started out as me giving suggestions here and there turned into me sitting down with pencil and paper first drawing sketches then working through samples of stitches to identify the points to be used. My vocabulary has now expanded to include the words for hem, sleeve, collar, and various knitting points, which I can now identify by sight while window-shopping.
Looking for design ideas for the women has turned into something of an obsession for me, and it reached new lows on Saturday when María (the social worker in Alto Cayma) and I were out running errands in El Centro and began tracking women whose sweaters we liked to get a better look at the points used and the form. María actually stopped one woman so we could get a closer look. She only seemed mildly frightened and was very obliging. Hopefully I will be over this behavior by the time I arrive home in August.
I finished doing measurements and colors with Betsy and Andrea on Thursday, and the ladies will begin working on the first round of models Monday. I'm excited if a little nervous to see how they turn out. After the primary models of the sweaters are finished, we will make corrections and look at colors, and then create countermodels (I think this would be the English terminology - contramuestras?) to reflect these changes. These will hopefully be up on a webpage for your perusal within the next few weeks...
Now that we're getting production nailed down, I'm ready to refocus my efforts on the Fair Trade application process. I will be meeting with the priest Monday to go over some of the questions which still remain about finances, management, and the history of the group, and hopefully that will give me a better idea of the direction we will be taking in the next few months.
There is always so much more to tell, but I will try to keep things a little shorter this time. My Spanish continues to roll along, and I love my tri-weekly lessons with my tutor, Nancy. My family here continues to take good care of me, and the knitters are amazing. I'm still trying to accustom myself to living in the desert, and I'm making a genuine effort to see the beauty of sand, but I still have an overwhelming desire to kick off my shoes and walk around barefoot in any grassy area I happen across. I've still got time.
Take care and do try to stay sane as the end of April approaches.
These past few weeks I've also been busy in a new role--that of fashion designer. Please don't laugh. The ladies are so talented, but some of the designs and colors are better suited for the Peruvian market (which doesn't really exist for them at this point) than the American/European market to which we are hoping to connect. So what started out as me giving suggestions here and there turned into me sitting down with pencil and paper first drawing sketches then working through samples of stitches to identify the points to be used. My vocabulary has now expanded to include the words for hem, sleeve, collar, and various knitting points, which I can now identify by sight while window-shopping.
Looking for design ideas for the women has turned into something of an obsession for me, and it reached new lows on Saturday when María (the social worker in Alto Cayma) and I were out running errands in El Centro and began tracking women whose sweaters we liked to get a better look at the points used and the form. María actually stopped one woman so we could get a closer look. She only seemed mildly frightened and was very obliging. Hopefully I will be over this behavior by the time I arrive home in August.
I finished doing measurements and colors with Betsy and Andrea on Thursday, and the ladies will begin working on the first round of models Monday. I'm excited if a little nervous to see how they turn out. After the primary models of the sweaters are finished, we will make corrections and look at colors, and then create countermodels (I think this would be the English terminology - contramuestras?) to reflect these changes. These will hopefully be up on a webpage for your perusal within the next few weeks...
Now that we're getting production nailed down, I'm ready to refocus my efforts on the Fair Trade application process. I will be meeting with the priest Monday to go over some of the questions which still remain about finances, management, and the history of the group, and hopefully that will give me a better idea of the direction we will be taking in the next few months.
There is always so much more to tell, but I will try to keep things a little shorter this time. My Spanish continues to roll along, and I love my tri-weekly lessons with my tutor, Nancy. My family here continues to take good care of me, and the knitters are amazing. I'm still trying to accustom myself to living in the desert, and I'm making a genuine effort to see the beauty of sand, but I still have an overwhelming desire to kick off my shoes and walk around barefoot in any grassy area I happen across. I've still got time.
Take care and do try to stay sane as the end of April approaches.
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Poco a Poco
Little by little. This is the refrain of the ladies whenever we talk about the process of connecting to the international Fair Trade market. I found out that some of them have been knitting together and waiting for such changes for over 10 years, so a few months or even another year is just a drop in the bucket for them. There is so much to be done, but their patience encourages me to practice a little of the same. And in the meantime, we are making progress. Poco a poco.
The week started off well. I continued my current regimen of online research and emailing in the morning, heading up to Alto Cayma after lunch. Monday afternoon I tried to photograph the remaining products for the webpage, but the light was waning and my battery died (a common trend), and I asked if I might be able to take products back with me to photograph, a request they willingly granted. Seeing me left without anything pressing to do, the ladies decided it was high time that I learn to knit "a máquina," and I soon found myself seated at a vacant machine with three of the ladies adjusting the settings, untangling the yarn and giving me incomprehensible instructions. After a few false starts, I got the hang of it and got about 1/3 of the way through a scarf before my yarn ran out and I was forced to stop.
I ended up knitting by hand and chatting with the ladies as they worked the rest of the afternoon. Much of the conversation revolved around food, as they asked me my favorite Peruvian dishes and we all got caught up in the various combinations of ají, potatoes, and rice. Eventually the conversation moved on to other things, one woman voicing concerns about her toddler´s persistent low weight, another asking me what I thought about the war in Iraq. In this manner I am learning, bit by bit, about their lives--where they come from, how many children they have, how they learned to knit, their worries, their views of the United States, where they´ve been and where they hope to go. There is still so much I don't know of how they live and how they see themselves in the world, but again, I am learning to be patient.
Tuesday I heard back from the Fair Trade Federation and received some very helpful materials and additional contacts. I've been making my way through a guide to shipping for small exporters which focuses on Latin American artisan groups like our own. It's incredible to see the amount of resources being developed solely for groups like ours, and it gives me a lot of hope to see how extensive the network of support between artisans and more socially-conscious businesses has already become.
In the afternoon I went with Betsy and Andrea down to El Centro (the city center) to do a little shopping, investigating current styles and prices of products made from alpaca wool. It was wonderful spending time with the two of them. Betsy, as I've mentioned, pretty much runs things at the workshop and oversees all of the products knitted by machine. She has a lot of experience and knows how things should work, which is really encouraging as we look ahead. She's always a lot of fun--laughing and poking fun at herself and the other ladies--and treats everyone who sets foot in the workshop with a friendly and respectful attitude.
Andrea is more timid and much less sure of herself. She's had a rough life, and it's evident in the way she reacts to the world. I have never been a good judge of age (and I think her circumstances have aged her to make her seem older than she really is) but she has two sons almost in their twenties, so I would think she's in her late forties or early fifties, but appears to be in her sixties. Andrea is in charge of the handknit products, and she is an incredible knitter. Although she has had problems with her eyesight (probably in large part due to the fact that she used to get up at 1:00am every day to begin knitting when her sons were in school), she manages just fine in her knitting as she barely even has to look at the needles. She is such a sweet lady and so talented, and I hope the future will bring her better days.
It was interesting visiting the various stores with the two of them. After we'd leave, one of them would inform me that it wasn't actually baby alpaca that they were selling (either one can tell by touch), or comment to the other on the various points used on sweaters and scarves. (I think it's points in knitting...puntos?) Both have been knitting as long as they can remember, and were quick to tell me that every woman raised in the mountains learns to make her own clothes from the time she is a little girl. I had been under the impression that some of the ladies up at Alto Cayma were just learning to knit by hand, but all of them have been doing that for ages and are only now learning to knit by machine. Even more eye opening was what they had to tell me about the wages of the knitters who create the products sold in the upscale tourist shops we visited. Both of them worked in stores like these before joining the other ladies in the workshop at Alto Cayma and for a hand knit alpaca sweater sold at 65 or 70 dollars, they were paid 30 soles tops (less than $10.00). A handknit sweater of that quality takes about 3-7 days to knit, which means the knitter makes somewhere between 4-10 soles or $1.25-$3.00 a day. It's unbelievable.
Wednesday I headed up in the afternoon planning on spending a quiet afternoon with the handknitters, hoping to finally start picking up some new puntos. Instead, I ended up on a combi with Andrea heading back down towards town to buy the wool to start making models for the new products we've been designing. We stopped in at Michele and picked out the colors we could find in acrylic blends, since alpaca isn't necessary for the models. Again, it was nice spending time with Andrea and getting more time to talk to her one on one. When we returned to the workshop, we went over the design for the bag they are going to make, and the ladies who volunteered to make the new models took their assigned color and headed home to begin work over the weekend. Hopefully we'll see the results on Monday.
Thursday and Friday are holidays here, so I spent the days with my family and on my own, taking some time to reflect and process everything from the week and to work on my homework for Spanish classes.
I'm off to the Easter Vigil now up in Alto Cayma. A separate entry will be devoted to Holy Week here (La Semana Santa), but I'm waiting first to see what Easter Sunday brings.
Take care and Happy Easter!
The week started off well. I continued my current regimen of online research and emailing in the morning, heading up to Alto Cayma after lunch. Monday afternoon I tried to photograph the remaining products for the webpage, but the light was waning and my battery died (a common trend), and I asked if I might be able to take products back with me to photograph, a request they willingly granted. Seeing me left without anything pressing to do, the ladies decided it was high time that I learn to knit "a máquina," and I soon found myself seated at a vacant machine with three of the ladies adjusting the settings, untangling the yarn and giving me incomprehensible instructions. After a few false starts, I got the hang of it and got about 1/3 of the way through a scarf before my yarn ran out and I was forced to stop.
I ended up knitting by hand and chatting with the ladies as they worked the rest of the afternoon. Much of the conversation revolved around food, as they asked me my favorite Peruvian dishes and we all got caught up in the various combinations of ají, potatoes, and rice. Eventually the conversation moved on to other things, one woman voicing concerns about her toddler´s persistent low weight, another asking me what I thought about the war in Iraq. In this manner I am learning, bit by bit, about their lives--where they come from, how many children they have, how they learned to knit, their worries, their views of the United States, where they´ve been and where they hope to go. There is still so much I don't know of how they live and how they see themselves in the world, but again, I am learning to be patient.
Tuesday I heard back from the Fair Trade Federation and received some very helpful materials and additional contacts. I've been making my way through a guide to shipping for small exporters which focuses on Latin American artisan groups like our own. It's incredible to see the amount of resources being developed solely for groups like ours, and it gives me a lot of hope to see how extensive the network of support between artisans and more socially-conscious businesses has already become.
In the afternoon I went with Betsy and Andrea down to El Centro (the city center) to do a little shopping, investigating current styles and prices of products made from alpaca wool. It was wonderful spending time with the two of them. Betsy, as I've mentioned, pretty much runs things at the workshop and oversees all of the products knitted by machine. She has a lot of experience and knows how things should work, which is really encouraging as we look ahead. She's always a lot of fun--laughing and poking fun at herself and the other ladies--and treats everyone who sets foot in the workshop with a friendly and respectful attitude.
Andrea is more timid and much less sure of herself. She's had a rough life, and it's evident in the way she reacts to the world. I have never been a good judge of age (and I think her circumstances have aged her to make her seem older than she really is) but she has two sons almost in their twenties, so I would think she's in her late forties or early fifties, but appears to be in her sixties. Andrea is in charge of the handknit products, and she is an incredible knitter. Although she has had problems with her eyesight (probably in large part due to the fact that she used to get up at 1:00am every day to begin knitting when her sons were in school), she manages just fine in her knitting as she barely even has to look at the needles. She is such a sweet lady and so talented, and I hope the future will bring her better days.
It was interesting visiting the various stores with the two of them. After we'd leave, one of them would inform me that it wasn't actually baby alpaca that they were selling (either one can tell by touch), or comment to the other on the various points used on sweaters and scarves. (I think it's points in knitting...puntos?) Both have been knitting as long as they can remember, and were quick to tell me that every woman raised in the mountains learns to make her own clothes from the time she is a little girl. I had been under the impression that some of the ladies up at Alto Cayma were just learning to knit by hand, but all of them have been doing that for ages and are only now learning to knit by machine. Even more eye opening was what they had to tell me about the wages of the knitters who create the products sold in the upscale tourist shops we visited. Both of them worked in stores like these before joining the other ladies in the workshop at Alto Cayma and for a hand knit alpaca sweater sold at 65 or 70 dollars, they were paid 30 soles tops (less than $10.00). A handknit sweater of that quality takes about 3-7 days to knit, which means the knitter makes somewhere between 4-10 soles or $1.25-$3.00 a day. It's unbelievable.
Wednesday I headed up in the afternoon planning on spending a quiet afternoon with the handknitters, hoping to finally start picking up some new puntos. Instead, I ended up on a combi with Andrea heading back down towards town to buy the wool to start making models for the new products we've been designing. We stopped in at Michele and picked out the colors we could find in acrylic blends, since alpaca isn't necessary for the models. Again, it was nice spending time with Andrea and getting more time to talk to her one on one. When we returned to the workshop, we went over the design for the bag they are going to make, and the ladies who volunteered to make the new models took their assigned color and headed home to begin work over the weekend. Hopefully we'll see the results on Monday.
Thursday and Friday are holidays here, so I spent the days with my family and on my own, taking some time to reflect and process everything from the week and to work on my homework for Spanish classes.
I'm off to the Easter Vigil now up in Alto Cayma. A separate entry will be devoted to Holy Week here (La Semana Santa), but I'm waiting first to see what Easter Sunday brings.
Take care and Happy Easter!
Saturday, March 31, 2007
April Come She Will
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.
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.
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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