great expectations

Hello people long time no talk.  I haven’t exactly had a lack of writing material I simply was having a difficult time putting my experience into words. I arrived in Peru thinking that I would dive right into my volunteer experience and immediately feel like the work I was doing is appreciated and contributing to making a difference.  In the past few weeks I have felt that the work I am doing is not especially effective and the results are most definitely not immediate and not necessarily appreciated.  I’d been hit with an overwhelming feeling of ¨What the heck am I doing here? And why am I here for six months?”  Recently I have been thinking about these two questions, A LOT.  So this is what I’ve come up with. 

I was informed upon arrival that the work I would be doing would not be as hands as the typical “volunteer experience.”  My job position here is the Volunteer Program Assistant- meaning that I help coordinate the short-term groups and check in with long-term volunteers among other responsibilities.  I came here knowing some aspects of the position but also with the expectations of working with my hands, interacting with the people and really making a difference.  After some thinking ultimately I decided to change my attitude- DUH.  Despite the fact that the program wasn’t what I anticipated or that my expectations didn’t meet the rave reviews of the volunteers I had met in the past, there are plenty of things that I witness here that I can attribute to a meaningful experience.

For example: 

This week is Semana Santa- Holy Week.  Today in the parish there was a special mass for the blessing of the ill- I do believe it is called anointing of the sick.  There was a big banner strung up that read, “Estuve enfermo y me visitaste” meaning I was sick and you visited me.  In addition to the banner all of the pews from the church were brought out into a big open area in the parish as well as a ton of extra chairs and benches.  At 3:00 people started filling in- it wasn’t just ordinary people filing in either.  It was people in wheel chairs, people limping, people being escorted, and parish workers carrying people who couldn’t walk and didn’t have wheelchairs to move from the vans to their chairs.  It was something else watching this happen.

 (This is a picture at mass Father Jack is blessing a tiny little woman- every person who came received their blessing)

(Here is a close up of a typical wheelchair here- a plastic chair rigged up to some bike wheels... the chair on the right was a donation)

(Here is a picture of two men carrying in a man who cannot walk- he doesnt have a wheelchair so they put him in a chair and carried him in)


Really, I mean come on- here I am whining about my “expectations” when there are people who can’t walk and can’t afford wheelchairs but they are seemingly content and happy simply to be at mass receiving a blessing.  What I have come to realize is that these are the moments to focus on.  Focus on the moments that are meaningful, the moments that make you give thanks, the moments that take you by surprise.  Simply by redirecting where my energy is going I have already had a better week.  While I may not be getting my hands dirty or interacting as directly as I had hoped I know not to spend my time focusing on what I’m not doing but rather what I am.  I am helping other people have meaningful and effective experiences here.  It is so easy to get brought down by the negative but when we get sucked into it we miss out on the positive things occurring despite the bad.  This trip continues to be a learning and growing experience for me. 

Day in the life

Everyday as I walk to the paroquia more and more people greet me by name or call out “Hola Gringa” smiles and waves are constant.  It is really pretty funny.  I was super tired this morning (everyone just so happens to comment on that too) and was heading into the paroquia as I passed two young kids probably 3 and 4 skipping to school laughing and singing.  Before I knew it I had two new friends one clinging to each hand and we ran and sang all the way to their classrooms in the parish.  Mind you these kids live in homes made of straw with no running water yet they were some of the happiest cutest kids I’d ever seen.  It was the perfect way to start my day.

(Some of the excited kids as the gringos entered the library)

Well it was another 24 hours without Internet this time unintentionally- there was no electricity from 7:00 am – 6:00 pm… but a nice break again nonetheless.  Imagine what a day in the U.S. would be like without electricity- many places function because of generators- but for others their lives are on hold because they can’t watch t.v, check email or face book.  Here you can barely tell the difference unless you reach to turn on a light switch or need to use a computer.  My job is somewhat computer oriented so I found other things to do.  I spent the morning in the “cuna.”  It is the daycare at the parish.  It is nothing like the daycare in the U.S.  It is a big open room and in one corner there is a toilet and sink that the few potty-trained kids would use with no shame.  In the other corner there was the snack table- not exactly sanitary…  But the kids know no different and were happy to have another person to cling to.  After the morning in la cuna I headed to English classes at one of the parish libraries.  Don’t get the wrong idea- the library couldn’t have had more than 100 books.  I didn’t teach the class, I participated, but mostly I observed.  One of my responsibilities with my position is checking in weekly with each volunteer at all of the different locations.  I like this because I get to see all of the areas of the community that are receiving support from Los Amigos.  All in all the lack of power made for a good morning. 

Once back at the parish I headed to the gringo room- it is a room for volunteers there is filtered water, a bathroom with running water, a book exchange, and sometimes treats for the volunteers.  It is also the room where short-term volunteers eat their meals.  A woman called Maruja cooks their meals.  She is an excellent cook and makes enough for tons of volunteers, her hand are contorted with severe arthritis and she is blind.  And she speaks 5 languages.  Pretty amazing.  I speak to her in Spanish and she replies to me in English.  Today as I was on my way into the gringo room I stopped to chat with a few of the short-term volunteers.  Maruja came out of her kitchen and I greeted her with a “Hola Maruja Como estas? (hello, how are you)” and she responded with her thick accent, “will you rub my feet please?”  Ha how do you say no to a woman who does so much- so sure enough she took my chair (because she likes sitting in the sun) and had her feet on my lap within seconds.  Her feet are just as bad with arthritis as her hands. I guess this is probably one of the only times I’ll say I’m glad dad always made us rub his feet because Maruja thoroughly enjoyed her foot massage and showered me with thanks- she also made sure that I know she is selling purses in her kitchen.  So needless to say some of you will be getting Maruja purses for souvenirs… 

(This is Maruja and me- we are in the courtyard between her kitchen and the "gingo room.")

Everyday I meet someone new and am amazed by the extreme circumstances they are living in.  Not a day passes here without realizing how blessed and privileged my life is.