Salir Adelante

One of the groups I most enjoy working with so far is called Salir Adelante (Getting Ahead). The Salir Adelante group is made up of college students who are incredibly talented, driven, motivated, creative, and intelligent. These kids are truly seeking to get ahead in life through education, and with the help of sponsors in the United States, we have students studying medicine, chemistry culinary arts, education, accounting,nursing and much more.

I met this group for the first time last weekend and was immediately impressed with their attitudes, their sense of humor and their qualifications. These guys work hard.

The people in Salir Adelante meet once a month to turn in their receipts, receive this month's education stipend, and to spend time with one another.

After business is discussed at the meetings, this is the kind of stuff we get to do together:

We celebrate each other's birthdays.



We play games and have competitions.
(This one involved turning two of the students into mummies with toilet paper.)



The students give charlas (talks) about any topic in the world.
This particular charla was given by three of the men in our group and it was about the history of Arequipa. (It also involved a puppet show.)



And at this particular meeting we played human bingo as way to get to know each other more. Thanks to this game, I learned who has never changed a diaper, who has tried grilled donkey, who has a scar more than 2 inches long, who can tell a good joke, and who my fellow left-handers are in the group.



I very, very much enjoy the people in Salir Adelante, and I am excited to be working with them to develop their group more.

Creaciones Angeles Cardshop

One of the things I get to do on a regular basis is work with and visit the girls in the cardshop.

For those of you who don't know the history of the cardshop, this is a minsitry that Gloria started years ago. When she and Jim were first coming to Alto Cayma through rotary club, Gloria decided to use some of her time volunteering to teach women a craft or handiwork that they could do to earn money. As Jim and Gloria began spending more time in Alto Cayma, the handiwork lessons became more detailed and gathered more interest. Over time, this evolved into the cardshop as we know it today.

Jim and Gloria host the cardshop in the downstairs of their Alto Cayma residence. Every day from 9-1, 15 or so ladies come to create beautiful handmade cards. Gloria and Jim then take these cards back with them when they come home to the US twice a year, and they spend their time selling the cards. Typically one card will sell for $4. The girls receive a paycheck from the profits of the cards.

This program is almost completely run by the ladies of the cardshop. They have a president and a treasurer, and together with the rest of the girls, they take inventory, buy supplies, manage money, and run a business.

The girls that Gloria and Jim have hired to work in the cardshop have undergone extensive psychological testing and training. They have had classes on team building and self esteem. Many of the girls who work in the cardshop use the money they earn to put food on their families' tables and go to school. We have two girls who are studying to be English teachers, one studying to be an elementary teacher and another who has one more year left of nursing school. The cardshop has made it possible not only for these women and their families to eat, but to go to school and have careers. In the process, the cardshop has helped to mold wonderful women leaders.

These are the women I get to work with:



The women use many, many techniques to make beautiful cards. These are my two favroite techniques. This first set is called boldado in Spanish. In English, this refers to an embroidery technique in which the cards have designs sewn into them.







The second technique I like is called Iris. For these cards, the women cut up very small pieces of paper and lay them out in a spiral pattern.












Most of the time when I work in the cardshop, the women let me cut strips or trace lines with a ruler so that they can be as precise as possible when formatting cards. Recently, however, I received a promotion. The girls decided it was time for me to learn how to embroider. They started with "algo facil" - something easy.

This was the first card I learned how to embroider:



The girls had already punched holes in the card, and my job was to sew the wedding rings in the center using thread. Would you believe it took me an hour and a half to sew the rings?! The second card was worse. And by the end I was cross-eyed and ready for a nap. I'm hoping that as I grow in the relationship with the girls, I also grow in card-making ability.

If you are interested in these cards, there are many, many more to choose from.
You can check out the card catalogue at www.serving-alto-cayma.info.
This is a wonderful way to support and empower the people of Alto Cayma.

The Acercandonos Store

On Thursdays, I go down the Acercandonos Office (the office which facilitates the sponsorships of people in Alto Cayma) to help prepare food that will be sold the next day. Victor, Tulita and Lourdes buy food in bulk - typically sugar, flour, soy powder, beans, rice, toothpaste, soap, etc - and every week, they divide the food from one 50 kilo (110ish pound) bag into one or two kilo bags. The food is sold at cost to the people, and it is much less expensive than even the cheapest store in Alto Cayma. Most families are able to use some of the money their sponsor gives each month for their groceries.

Here we are dividing the food in bags:



More often than not, I end up wearing more sugar and flour than I think we put in the bags.

On Friday, between the hours of 4 and 6, the people in the Acercandonos program come to the office for their food.

This is David, an American visitor, and I packing a bag of groceries for a woman in our program.



One by one, we invite people into the stockroom and we ask them what they would like to have to eat. I appreciate this program because it is not a handout. We help parents and the elderly budget for meals and we empower them to choose what it is that their family would like to eat.

The Faces of Alto Cayma

So you're in Peru, but just was is it that you do all day?

This is a good question, one that I am sure many of you are asking. If you are one of those people, don't worry. There are days that I ask myself the same thing.
So far, not one day in Peru has been the same. However, now that I am getting settled, I am also starting to develop a routine.

I thought it would be best, before I share with you the ministries that I am involved in, to share with you the faces of the people that I work with every day.



This is a picture of Gloria and Jim that shamelessly stole off the internet. Gloria is from Colombia and Jim is from Michigan. They have been married for the last 44 years, and they have two houses: one in Peru and one in Huntersville, NC. They live part time in both places. These are the people are work for : )



Lidia, the Peruvian woman in between the American visitors, is 26 years old and oversees the Salir Adelante (college student) program. Lidia is a fabulous dancer, an all-around great person, and she is learning English.



This is Victor. He doesn't normally wear a bib - (he was at a fancy restaurant where the food is cooked in on your plate in front of you.) Victor is charge of the Acercandonos program. This means he oversees 240 people who are sponsored by padrinos (Godparents)in the United States. I have been here for almost a month, and I have discovered that Victor wears many hats - he is dad, he is doctor, he is logistician, he is nutrtionist, he is social worker and counselor, he is financial advisor. Victor supports the people in the Acercandonos program in every possible way. He also runs the Acercandonos youth group. I am one of Victor's biggest fans.



Tulita and Lurdes work for Victor in the Acercandonos program. Together, they visit the houses of each and every sponsored person every two months. They too wear many different hats.

So, these are the faces of the people I work with in Alto Cayma. Over the next couple of blog entries, I will begin to highlight some of the things I do every day.

My Host Mom Has Been Holding Out On Me

So, my host mother's name is Rosario. In Spanish, however, Rosario is a very formal name. Normally the Rosarios of Peru go by "Charo." I affectionately call my Peruvian mother, Mama Charito.

Mama Charito takes very, very good care of me. She packs my lunches every day, and even helps me with laundry on the weekend. When I come home in the evenings, dinner is ready for me on the table. (Lunch is the main meal in South America, Charo and her daughter come home and eat a huge meal together at 2 or 3 in the afternoon. I am gone at this time, so Charo saves some of the lunch they have for my dinner, which I eat when I come home around 6:30. At that time Charo and Pia are usually back at work and school.)

Every morning Mama Charito and I eat breakfast together. Usually, I have some sort of fruit - grandilla, chirimoya, tumba, banana, etc - and a freshly-baked roll from the bakery just down the street. Charito also makes what she calls "jugito" (little juice). To prepare jugito, Charo throws melons, pineapples, mangoes, and papayas into the blender and adds a little bit of water. It's a smoothie of sorts, and I love it. Over breakfast, I practice my Spanish by talking with Charo. Sometimes we watch the news and I tell her what I understand. Sometimes she asks me about my day, and sometimes I ask her about hers. At first breakfast conversations were painful. They required a lot of hand gestures and repetition. In the last couple of weeks, they've gotten easier --- but still, I am reminded every morning of how much I have to learn in Spanish. Charito is usually very patient with me. She is always willing to explain herself in multiple different ways, if necessary, until I understand. And, if I jumble my grammar too much, she cocks her head, smiles and then tells me to try again so she can understand. Sometimes, I end up mumbling to myself wishing someone spoke a little English.

Well, the other day, I asked Charo a question in the car and I realized I had asked it in English. I quickly started re-framing the question in Spanish, but before I could, Charo answered me in perfect English. "You speak English?!" I asked, completely surprised as image after image of breakfast table conversation flashed thorugh my mind. "Si," she answered seriously. And hasn't spoken a word of English to me since.

Mama Charito has been holding out on me.

La Combi, A Very Different Animal

I live in Cayma, a district in Arequipa, in a nice apartment with a mom and her college-age daughter. I work in Alto Cayma, another area of Arequipa. The differences between the places I live and work are like night and day.

The thing that bridges the gap between these two different worlds is the Combi. Every morning, I take a short walk from our apartment to a main avenue in town called Plaza de Cayma, and I wait at the corner (la esquina) for the combi to come and take me up the mountain to Alto Cayma.

A combi is a fifteen passenger van with two staff members: the driver and the faretaker. It costs .70 soles (approximately $0.25) to ride to work one way.
This is what a combi looks like:



As best I can tell, there are not really combi "companies." Instead, individuals own a combi and begin running a designated route. There is no schedule for a combi, instead, you just go to a street corner, and wait for the appropriate combi to pass by. I have never had to wait more than 5 or 6 minutes.

When you hop on the combi, the faretaker will open the door (sometimes while the van is still moving) and say, "Sube, sube, sube." And you will get on. On a good day, you have a seat on the combi. On a not-so-ideal day, you will stand. I have ridden a combi with as many as 26 other people.

Just before you want to get off the combi, you will pay your fare, and say, "Baja." The fare-taker will call out "Baja!" to the driver, and the combi will slow (although not always to a stop) and the fare-taker will yell, "Baja, baja, baja, baja" as you get off.

At first, I was pretty intimidated by the combi. I was worried about ladrones (pick-pockets) and catching the right combi. Because not every combi takes the same route up the mountain and down again, I was also worried about getting lost ... which did happen a couple of times.

The first time I rode the combi, I had no problems. The second time I rode the combi, the driver took a slightly different route, and I got turned around. I was on the combi in Sector 13 (when I should have gone to Sector 7), and started fumbling through Spanish to ask the fare-taker where we were. I know I looked stressed. Thankfully, a very sweet man next to me was listening to my conversation, and at one point, interrupted me to say, "Are you looking for Gloria and Jim?" HA! There was an English speaker on my combi! Thank goodness.

I get a lot of strange looks when I ride the combi. I am a sort of oddity in Peru. I am tall (taller than most Peruvian men), and I have white skin (really white skin), and curly red hair. I attract attention and stick out like a sore thumb. For all of these reasons, I usually end up having conversations with people on the combi. They ask me where I'm from, what I'm doing here, do I really know where I'm going, and they tell me I have hair of "gold." (I like that last part --- especially since it's a far cry from my mother's description of my hair, "Meghan," she says, "It's like the burning bush.")

After almost three weeks in Peru, I don't want to jinx myself, but I think I've mastered the combi. I haven't gotten lost or even turned around in over a week and half. I even enjoy participating in this part of Peruvian culture.

The Story of The Alpaca

Last week, I had the opportunity to go with Gloria, Jim, the Dunn family, and two men, Victor and Osewaldo to Inca Alpaca, a store that sells clothing and blankets made of Alpaca wool. Interestingly enough, this store also has a very, very small zoo in which customers can walk through to see llamas and alpacas.

After perusing the sale rack, I decided it was time to investigate these animals. Just what was an alpaca anyways? When I walked outside, I was immediately greeted by the bays of a handful of alpacas. Some were black, some were brown --- but they were all really ugly! I think alapacas are oddly shaped. I commented on this to Osewaldo, a native Peruvian. His response, "No Meghan, you are crazy. They are beautiful." Beauty is definitely in the eyes of the beholder.

Here are the alpacas I saw.








I was finishing my viewing of the animals when Gloria called, "Meghan! There's one more!" And sure enough, there was an alpaca sticking his head out between the bars. "Oh," I said, grabbing my camera. I began walking towards the alpaca, and I heard Osewaldo say, "Escupe. Escupe." I didn't know what that meant, so I eagerly continued moving towards the animal for an upclose shot of his face. All of a sudden the alpaca reared back, grunted loudly, and SPIT AT ME. I screamed and grabbed Gloria, who was standing next to me. Everyone busted out laughing.

I learned a very important word in Spanish that day. "Escupe" means "He spits!"

Later in the week, I am happy to say that I ate alpaca. And I enjoyed every bite!