Well, I think the title of this post says it all. The week was trying and frustrating, but still had its moments of fun and acomplishment.
Monday, as a reward for their hard work throughout the previous week, Michelle and I decided to aceed to requests for songs and dances from America. There was just one problem: we don`t really have dances like they do in Peru (except for things like the Lindy Hop and Fox Trot, which neither of us know). So, we started out with songs to prevent the enevitable embarassing dancing we would do. Happy Birthday went over pretty well. The tune is the same, so all the women had to focus on were the repetitive lyrics. A few women took turns having it be their birthday and giggiling appropriately. Next we tried Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, which proved to be a poor choice: too much vocab, too little repetition and too difficult a tune. We only got through four lines befire deciding it wasn`t worth it to do the full six. Still, I think that the songs helped in getting the women familiar with the sounds of English. And then the dances. We started with the most universal dance we could think of - the Hokey Pokey (which is a really difficult title to explain to a group of 20 to 50 something Peruvians). But it turned out to be an absoluetly great choice. First, the movements of the dance cracked the women up and got them feeling pretty good. Second, the song allows for the practice of left/right and body-part vocab, which is something that could actually be useful in selling products. Seeing all of them `put your butt in, put your butt out, put your butt in and shake it all about` was really amusing. And then we ended with the classic: The Maccarania (in lieu of the Chicken Dance) which turned out to be a good number review (one macca, two macca, three maccarania...). All in all it was a fun and positive day.
Tuesday was a prime business day. We scheduled a grand reunion for the women (complete with soda and cookies, a tactic learned form university to get people to attend meetings) to create their work plan. Michelle and I had previously created a work plan that we thought would be suitable. We only got through one part with the women:
Goal: Sell More Products
Activities to achieve goal:
a. find markets in which to sell products (Responsible parties: VP, ProPeru)
a. hostels and hotels
b. restaurants
c. Spanish schools
d. Shops
e. Tour organizations
b. have a stockpile of products (Durazno Ti´kay)
c. decide on new types of products and produce them
a. something different and unique
i. cards
ii. crocheted things: sweaters, baby clothes, shawls, bags
iii. dolls
d. Better the Durazno Ti´kay office (Durazno Ti´kay, ProPeru)
e. Have English classes (ProPeru)
It was great to get this much done and decided on with the vast majority of teh group present, but it took the time we had imagined the entire 4-part business plan would need. The women kept on going off on personal tangents; they got mad at the board of directors for sometimes not showing up or defended their own lack of attendance. It was extremely frustrating to see the women work individually as we tried to organize them to work as a group. As we didn`t finish the plan, we scheduled the continuation and termination of the grand reunion for Wednesday.
Wednesday: Market Day. Having a big group meeting to decided important (business life or death) issues on a market day is a terrible idea, and I should have known. I wanted to bash my head against the wall: only 5 women showed up, so we couldn’t finish the work plan, as it is a group activity. We hadn`t planned a back up, because we figured everyone would show, the work plan being so important and all, so we had no activity. We sat and chatted with the women, helping them practice English names for clothing and colors, but it wasn`t nearly as good as if we had planned something in advance. The deal with market day, for those who have not lived in a small Peruvian town, is that the largest town in the vicinity, Urubamba in this case, shuts down a few streets so that vendors can come from all over and sell their wares. It´s a beautiful sight, with people from super rural areas in traditional garb next to (relatively) large-city dwellers. There´s everything you could want from watches to food to key-chains and livestalk. Because this is the main buying/selling day, and because many of the women in Durazno Ti`kay sell their own wares on the side, a good proportion head the ten minutes into Urubamba to sell their things. The other good majority of women say that they do and use it as an excuse to not come to meetings. So we have a tiny attendance. This was by far the most frustrating day as of yet. We deriously thought of just heading out and getting furteada (chicha with strawberries) with teh womanwho had come, as opposed to sitting, letting them workand practicing English.
Thursday was Michelle´s day to jaunt, in her case to Nazca, so I was alone. I decided to review the English vocab that the previous two volunteers had taught. We did ´How are you?´ ´I am (good, bad, tired, crazy, fantastic)´and I also introduced the phrase ´I like to (sing, dance, sew, cook, play)´ to review verbs (sing, dance, sew, cook, play). Verbs seem to be hard for the women. They have trouble keeping words and actions together in their head. I decided it would be easier for them to remember the verbs if I made a fool of myself, so I acted out verbs which seemed to work fairly well (and get a laugh). I dribbled a basketball (I like to play), cooked a very inept meal (I like to cook) and danced like I had no clue what I was doing (I like to dance). ´How are you? ´ and ´I am…´ seem to be sticking fairly well.
After, we played two leadership/ group bonding games that I had played at one time or another. First, I had the women count (from 11 to 20 and from 21 to 30) without ordering who would say what number. If two women shouted out the same number, we would start from the beginning. I think I did this in 6th grade. Anyway, the game was a big hit; not only did the women work together and really like the game, but they reviewed numbers that they often don’t get the chance to practice. We ended the day by playing a game that I did during a Rice leadership retreat. In this game the women had a long circular piece of rope that they were asked to make into shapes (a house, a rectangle, a car, a flower). They had to work together to create the items. It went over well and encouraged certain women to take leadership roles, while it encouraged teh rest to work together to comply. Not unexpectedly, the women taking leadership roles were part of the board of directors.
Friday there was a parade in Yanhuara for Dias Patrias (Peruvian Independence Day) that the women had arranged to march in as Durazno Ti´kay. They wanted me to come and support them, which I did gladly. WHat I didn`t know was that a) I would be the only non Yanahuarian (I couldhave guessed I would be the only non-Peruvian) and that b) they wanted me to march in the parade as a part of the group. I was flattered but it was a bit more than alkward, to say the least. Firstly, the women gave me a poncho and matching hat to wear, which looked a bit ridiclous in teh burning sun of the day and, seccondly, I was a head taller than everyone else (whcih has nenver before happened in my life!) At one point a randomewoman came up to our group and asked why the hell I was in line to march. The women had to defend me and say I was a part of their group. And then we marched all of 20 feet. It was a good experience, but not something I think I´d really like to repeat. The parade took the place of a meeting (the womens´ decision, not mine) so we only really had three days of instruction.
A hard week, but followed by a four-day weekend, soon to be posted...
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Week/Weekend 2: In the Swing of Things
Our second week went well, with a good deal of business decisions being made. I´ve got to give props top my partner Michelle, who stuck it out for two days while I jaunted around on one of the random adventuresd I´m prone to taking, but I´ll get into that later.
Monday we did a typical half yoga half English lesson. The yoga was great: it´s mostly just tstretching wth some stengtheing exercises thrown in the mix. I had to reach back to my swimmer days to find stretches that would be appropriate. We did something taht I though worked really well: we held each position for ten seconds and had the women count form one to ten while in the position. Then we would do the position (if aplicable) on the other side and have them count from eleven to twenty. I think this really helped in number retention. For English we went over clothing items, things the women are making and trying to sell to tourists. We made a poster with all the items in picture form; I´m a real believer in visual learning. Then we would ask the women what they were making. Invariably, they would respond in Spanish and we would have to prompt tehm to respond in English. (The people who were making ponchos got off easy, as the word is the same in both languages).
Tuesday and Wednesday I skipped town to go to teh Fiesta de la Viurgen del Carmen in a pueblo about 5 hours away. The virgin is supposidly very miraculous, and every year the festival brings in at least 5 times as many tourists as residents. There´s non-stop dancing and music for two days with teh highlight being on teh second day when teh virgin is brought out of the church and paraded around the town. I got there Tuesday at 1pmish, just in time to witness the beginning of the dancing. And wow, was it dancing! Each dance had around 30 or 40 participants, fully dressed in elaborate, detialled costumes as anything from doctors and nurses to bulls and matadors to African slaves. The costunes were made up of thopusands of beads, sequines, plaster and, ocassionaly, the dead animal. The dances represented a variety of things. The doctors and nurses all became infected with malaria and ended up on the floor shaking like eplilectic patients, the matadors acted all high and mighty (presumably a reference to Spanish haughtiness), the African slaves held likenesses of closed fists and raised them in a black power sign. There were also bakers and bread-women, adorable little girls in traditional garb and men with whips who took turns hitting eachother. Before every dance came a strangely decorated man with a whip, whose job it was to move teh crowd out of the way so that the dancers had room. Invariably, being a very white tourist, I was picked on: I gave a high-five to one whipper, kissed the mask of another, and was pertend shot at by a third.
The dances lasted until about 8 at night, at which point all the dancers went to eat and get drunk at local homes. The rest of us hung out in the plaza, talked and listened to the band, whcih didn´t stop playing all night. All through the day the townspeople had been working hard assembling the magically-looking structurs made of wood and tissue paper. They were about 30 feet high and had parts that spun about. They were some of teh most beautiful things I´d ever seen, straight out of a fairytale about flying-machienes. At about 10 at night I found out that these weren´t flying machienes after all, but fierworks. One by one, the three beautiful structures were lit up with the spinning parts spinning even faster, setting off beautiful colors and, eventually, fading into darkness. It was a beautiful and (partdon the repitition) magical show.
As the town of Pocartumbo houses about 3000 people and, at festival time, has around 20000 people in it, there was no hotel or hostel or even floor to stay on. But that was no problem, because all of teh student-aged tourists (those with less money) also had no place to stay. So we all hung out in the plaza, dancing until early in the morning. At three or so I hopped on a convi (a van packed full of people) to head to Tres Cruses, a mountian about 2 hours away where the sunrise from May to July is supposed to look halucinogenic: the sun bounces about, there are halos and sometimes it looks as if stars are falling from the sky. Unfortunately, when I arrived at 5 or so, it was extremely cloudy, so I didn´t get to witness the sunrise as intended but, I did get to take a nice hike and experience being entirely above a beautiful layer of clouds that was possibly more celestial that naything I´ve experienced since.
At 7 we made our way back to Pocartumbo and, at 11, I headed back to Cuzco and, from Cuzco, Urubamba. I got to Urubamba at around 5, in time for a group dinner cooked by volunteers. As it was Wednesday, after a deliciously American dinner, we headed top The Muse, a volunteer-oriented lounge, to do our weekly game of Tirva (sort of like jepordy, but in teams). And the I promptly went home and fell alseep.
Thursday was business as normal and, after Spanish class and a hard bit of brainstorming and planning with Michelle, we helped the Yanahuara women to decide upon an attendance plan. Lately, we´ve been having a lot of women miss meetings, so this was a way for us to figure out how to encourage more women to come more regularly (or, as it turned out, how to discourage less women to miss less meetings). What teh women decided is that we would reduce meeting times from 5 to 3 days a week. I think this is a great change because market day, Wednesday, sees a particularly low attendance and, with the new schedule, no one will need to come Wednesdays. The women also decided on a 1 sole penalty for every missed meeting (the proceeds of which would go toward buying the whole group something) and a prize for the women who showed up on time most often. We also decided to switch teh order of things. As it´s been, volunteers have been teaching for an hour, and then the women have had an hour to knit. What we decided is that it would be an incentive to stay for the lesson if the women could knit first for an hour, and then have their volunteer-led lesson.
Thursday night there was a big party to celebrate two of the ProPeru volunteers getting married. You heard me right, they got married in Peru. It was a big to-do with their host families prepairing a big meal and lots of music. Very different and interesting. The couple, Canadians of 19 and 20, put it as practice for ´real world marriage,´ as the Peru marriage doesn´t hold in Canada.
Friday we continued on the business-focused mentality and hammered out the responsibilities of the board of directors (president, vice president, treasurer etc.). It took much longer than anticipated, and we spent the whole session on that, as opposed to on yoga as we had planned. Still, it was important for every woman to know here roles, rights and responsibilities.
I really think that the work of this week, especially the attendance rules, will help Durazxno Ti´kay be more cohesive as a group. And I hope the other things will help them as an organized business.
The weekend was full of adventure: On Saturday we went to the ruins of Oyantetumbo, an ancient Incan city, followed by the ruins of Saqusaywaman, an ancient Incan sun temple. Then it was off to Cuzco to explore and spend the night. On Saturday I got up at around 6, hit up too many churches to count for mass, climbed to a beautiful lookout over Cuzco, and generally experienced the city wthout the masses of tourists that it attracts. I found teh market by accident and ended up spending a while pouring over fruits veggies and lambs heads (ew!) of all sizes, shapes and colors. Then I followed the abandoned train tracks to a poorer part of town and discovered the market there, significantly smaller than the other. I finished by stopping into a beautiful galary exibit by a man whose works come straight out of fantasy novels: twisted figures and dream-like colors. It was great.
Sunday we headed back top Urubamba via the Pisac ruins and, after, teh Pisa market. The market was overwhelming, filled with the same goods over and over, and overpriced. Still, it was beautiful and I was able to find some truly magnificient works. We got back to town and }went out for curry (yes, there´s curry in Urubamba) and then slept full and happy.
Monday we did a typical half yoga half English lesson. The yoga was great: it´s mostly just tstretching wth some stengtheing exercises thrown in the mix. I had to reach back to my swimmer days to find stretches that would be appropriate. We did something taht I though worked really well: we held each position for ten seconds and had the women count form one to ten while in the position. Then we would do the position (if aplicable) on the other side and have them count from eleven to twenty. I think this really helped in number retention. For English we went over clothing items, things the women are making and trying to sell to tourists. We made a poster with all the items in picture form; I´m a real believer in visual learning. Then we would ask the women what they were making. Invariably, they would respond in Spanish and we would have to prompt tehm to respond in English. (The people who were making ponchos got off easy, as the word is the same in both languages).
Tuesday and Wednesday I skipped town to go to teh Fiesta de la Viurgen del Carmen in a pueblo about 5 hours away. The virgin is supposidly very miraculous, and every year the festival brings in at least 5 times as many tourists as residents. There´s non-stop dancing and music for two days with teh highlight being on teh second day when teh virgin is brought out of the church and paraded around the town. I got there Tuesday at 1pmish, just in time to witness the beginning of the dancing. And wow, was it dancing! Each dance had around 30 or 40 participants, fully dressed in elaborate, detialled costumes as anything from doctors and nurses to bulls and matadors to African slaves. The costunes were made up of thopusands of beads, sequines, plaster and, ocassionaly, the dead animal. The dances represented a variety of things. The doctors and nurses all became infected with malaria and ended up on the floor shaking like eplilectic patients, the matadors acted all high and mighty (presumably a reference to Spanish haughtiness), the African slaves held likenesses of closed fists and raised them in a black power sign. There were also bakers and bread-women, adorable little girls in traditional garb and men with whips who took turns hitting eachother. Before every dance came a strangely decorated man with a whip, whose job it was to move teh crowd out of the way so that the dancers had room. Invariably, being a very white tourist, I was picked on: I gave a high-five to one whipper, kissed the mask of another, and was pertend shot at by a third.
The dances lasted until about 8 at night, at which point all the dancers went to eat and get drunk at local homes. The rest of us hung out in the plaza, talked and listened to the band, whcih didn´t stop playing all night. All through the day the townspeople had been working hard assembling the magically-looking structurs made of wood and tissue paper. They were about 30 feet high and had parts that spun about. They were some of teh most beautiful things I´d ever seen, straight out of a fairytale about flying-machienes. At about 10 at night I found out that these weren´t flying machienes after all, but fierworks. One by one, the three beautiful structures were lit up with the spinning parts spinning even faster, setting off beautiful colors and, eventually, fading into darkness. It was a beautiful and (partdon the repitition) magical show.
As the town of Pocartumbo houses about 3000 people and, at festival time, has around 20000 people in it, there was no hotel or hostel or even floor to stay on. But that was no problem, because all of teh student-aged tourists (those with less money) also had no place to stay. So we all hung out in the plaza, dancing until early in the morning. At three or so I hopped on a convi (a van packed full of people) to head to Tres Cruses, a mountian about 2 hours away where the sunrise from May to July is supposed to look halucinogenic: the sun bounces about, there are halos and sometimes it looks as if stars are falling from the sky. Unfortunately, when I arrived at 5 or so, it was extremely cloudy, so I didn´t get to witness the sunrise as intended but, I did get to take a nice hike and experience being entirely above a beautiful layer of clouds that was possibly more celestial that naything I´ve experienced since.
At 7 we made our way back to Pocartumbo and, at 11, I headed back to Cuzco and, from Cuzco, Urubamba. I got to Urubamba at around 5, in time for a group dinner cooked by volunteers. As it was Wednesday, after a deliciously American dinner, we headed top The Muse, a volunteer-oriented lounge, to do our weekly game of Tirva (sort of like jepordy, but in teams). And the I promptly went home and fell alseep.
Thursday was business as normal and, after Spanish class and a hard bit of brainstorming and planning with Michelle, we helped the Yanahuara women to decide upon an attendance plan. Lately, we´ve been having a lot of women miss meetings, so this was a way for us to figure out how to encourage more women to come more regularly (or, as it turned out, how to discourage less women to miss less meetings). What teh women decided is that we would reduce meeting times from 5 to 3 days a week. I think this is a great change because market day, Wednesday, sees a particularly low attendance and, with the new schedule, no one will need to come Wednesdays. The women also decided on a 1 sole penalty for every missed meeting (the proceeds of which would go toward buying the whole group something) and a prize for the women who showed up on time most often. We also decided to switch teh order of things. As it´s been, volunteers have been teaching for an hour, and then the women have had an hour to knit. What we decided is that it would be an incentive to stay for the lesson if the women could knit first for an hour, and then have their volunteer-led lesson.
Thursday night there was a big party to celebrate two of the ProPeru volunteers getting married. You heard me right, they got married in Peru. It was a big to-do with their host families prepairing a big meal and lots of music. Very different and interesting. The couple, Canadians of 19 and 20, put it as practice for ´real world marriage,´ as the Peru marriage doesn´t hold in Canada.
Friday we continued on the business-focused mentality and hammered out the responsibilities of the board of directors (president, vice president, treasurer etc.). It took much longer than anticipated, and we spent the whole session on that, as opposed to on yoga as we had planned. Still, it was important for every woman to know here roles, rights and responsibilities.
I really think that the work of this week, especially the attendance rules, will help Durazxno Ti´kay be more cohesive as a group. And I hope the other things will help them as an organized business.
The weekend was full of adventure: On Saturday we went to the ruins of Oyantetumbo, an ancient Incan city, followed by the ruins of Saqusaywaman, an ancient Incan sun temple. Then it was off to Cuzco to explore and spend the night. On Saturday I got up at around 6, hit up too many churches to count for mass, climbed to a beautiful lookout over Cuzco, and generally experienced the city wthout the masses of tourists that it attracts. I found teh market by accident and ended up spending a while pouring over fruits veggies and lambs heads (ew!) of all sizes, shapes and colors. Then I followed the abandoned train tracks to a poorer part of town and discovered the market there, significantly smaller than the other. I finished by stopping into a beautiful galary exibit by a man whose works come straight out of fantasy novels: twisted figures and dream-like colors. It was great.
Sunday we headed back top Urubamba via the Pisac ruins and, after, teh Pisa market. The market was overwhelming, filled with the same goods over and over, and overpriced. Still, it was beautiful and I was able to find some truly magnificient works. We got back to town and }went out for curry (yes, there´s curry in Urubamba) and then slept full and happy.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
The First Weekend
ProPeru has many positives as an NGO: the people working with it, the wide array of projects from which to choose and free internet access (from which I am writing this post). But, my favorite perk by far, are the weekend trips which ProPeru arranges for its volunteers. Last weekend we went on one such trip.
Lares is a small town about 3 hours from Urubamba. To get there, like to get to most towns in the Sacred Valley, you must drive precariously close to the sides of multiple mountains, over mountains and next to packs of llamas grazing and giving you confused looks. The main attraction of Lares, aside from the beautiful ride there, are it's hot springs. And what's really nice about them is that they're not just a touristy thing. Saturday baths in the hot springs are something of a local tradition, with whole families gathering, bathing, eating a picnic and maybe taking a hike. Some people even come to the springs to just hang out, and don't even bother to get into the pools. But of course, I'm not one of those people.
We hung out in various levels of really hot to cold water, which was a good way to relax after our first week of work and stress in a new country. After, we took a walk into the town of Lares and had a two course meal for the equivalent of one dollar.
Sunday we went on a once-a-month mini-project in a town about an hour away where ProPeru has a history of construction projects. We were told that we would be helping build a kitchen for a school. However, what we weren't told was that there was absolutely nothing done in preparation. So we spent our morning and early afternoon using pick-axes (!) to knock down adobe walls that were in the way and pull up the grass and roots that were where the foundation needed to go. We dug some ditches and moved rocks from the near-by river to make up parts of the foundation as well. Although moving the rocks was extremely hard, I think it's a great tactic: the rocks will be used to make parts of the foundation, so that the village can save money on concrete. Talk about sustainable design - using rocks from a river so that you don't need to use other materials!
The work was absolutely back breaking (and, in my clumsy case, hurtful in other ways as well). I spent a good part of my time knocking down walls, which was a great way to get out aggression (unfortunately, I didn't have enough to keep my stamina up throughout the whole project), but I spent the majority of the time bent over a pickax ripping up vegetation. I'm proud to say I only hit myself in the legs with the ax twice, and both times were thankfully lacking force. By lunch time, I was spent.
Lunch itself was wonderful. Some local women had cooked three huge bowls of potatoes and brought out huge slices of what's known as Andean (or local) cheese. All of this for just 12 volunteers. Apparently it's a typical lunch, and it was exactly what we all wanted at that point. After lunch we worked for another hour and then drove back to Urubamba to sleep.
Looking at the weekend, I think we should have done it in reverse: the mini-project and then Lares. The burning water would have done good things to my muscles. As it is, I was only sore for a week or so afterwards.
Lares is a small town about 3 hours from Urubamba. To get there, like to get to most towns in the Sacred Valley, you must drive precariously close to the sides of multiple mountains, over mountains and next to packs of llamas grazing and giving you confused looks. The main attraction of Lares, aside from the beautiful ride there, are it's hot springs. And what's really nice about them is that they're not just a touristy thing. Saturday baths in the hot springs are something of a local tradition, with whole families gathering, bathing, eating a picnic and maybe taking a hike. Some people even come to the springs to just hang out, and don't even bother to get into the pools. But of course, I'm not one of those people.
We hung out in various levels of really hot to cold water, which was a good way to relax after our first week of work and stress in a new country. After, we took a walk into the town of Lares and had a two course meal for the equivalent of one dollar.
Sunday we went on a once-a-month mini-project in a town about an hour away where ProPeru has a history of construction projects. We were told that we would be helping build a kitchen for a school. However, what we weren't told was that there was absolutely nothing done in preparation. So we spent our morning and early afternoon using pick-axes (!) to knock down adobe walls that were in the way and pull up the grass and roots that were where the foundation needed to go. We dug some ditches and moved rocks from the near-by river to make up parts of the foundation as well. Although moving the rocks was extremely hard, I think it's a great tactic: the rocks will be used to make parts of the foundation, so that the village can save money on concrete. Talk about sustainable design - using rocks from a river so that you don't need to use other materials!
The work was absolutely back breaking (and, in my clumsy case, hurtful in other ways as well). I spent a good part of my time knocking down walls, which was a great way to get out aggression (unfortunately, I didn't have enough to keep my stamina up throughout the whole project), but I spent the majority of the time bent over a pickax ripping up vegetation. I'm proud to say I only hit myself in the legs with the ax twice, and both times were thankfully lacking force. By lunch time, I was spent.
Lunch itself was wonderful. Some local women had cooked three huge bowls of potatoes and brought out huge slices of what's known as Andean (or local) cheese. All of this for just 12 volunteers. Apparently it's a typical lunch, and it was exactly what we all wanted at that point. After lunch we worked for another hour and then drove back to Urubamba to sleep.
Looking at the weekend, I think we should have done it in reverse: the mini-project and then Lares. The burning water would have done good things to my muscles. As it is, I was only sore for a week or so afterwards.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
The First Week
Our first week working with the women was short but sweet. We arrived at,what I think, was the best possible time; a week before the two old (and first ever) volunteers left. We would have had a week to work with them and the women, see how they worked and what techniques they used but, Peruvian strikes did not work in our favor.
Monday we helped the old volunteers give out English assessment tests to see what the women had learned and what they needed more work on. Because the women are so used to working in a group (not necesarily in our group, but in life in Peru in general) we had to phyisiscally separate them and do a one-on-one administration of the tests to make sure that we really knew what each woman knew, as opposed to what the women and their neighbors knew together. What we discovered was that there was a wide range of comprehension but that, in general, numbers and colors were easire than clothing items (and forget about congugating verbs). Wefound out later that the old volunteers had worked extensively on numbers and colors, so there is no surprise there. We then spent some time chatting with the women as they knitted their wares.
Tuesday and Wednesday were national strikes protesting the rising cost of living through oil and food. Thousands of people marched in the streets, made rock barricades in the roads so that transoprtation couldnt pass and burnt tires, and thats in the sleepy little town of Urubamba. People from all surrounding parts of the Sacred Valley filtered into Urubamba and ended up in the tiny town square, outside of the church, where giant speekers were set up. And then the best part happened: leaders of all communities, including a large ammount of women, gave speeches. They sounded very moving, whith rounds of applauseand dramatic pauses, but I couldnt tell because...they were all in Quecha! It was so moving to hear these people speak their grievences in their first language and take power into there own hands. Of course, because I´m a protest junkey, I stuck around and did catch a few of the chants, some of which were really quite clever:
Theres the clasic: El pueblo, unido, jamas sera vencido
(The people, united, will never lose)
And then some new ones for me: El pueblo, escucha, uno cada lucha
(People, listen, all for one)
El pueblo en las calles por culpa del gobierno
(The people in the street by fault of the government)
Aqui, alla, el paro es total
(Here, there, the strikeis everywhere)
La costa, la selva, la teirra, el paro es total
(The coast, the jungle, the plains, the strike is everywhere)
I especially like the last one because it highlights Peru´s vast array of climates, peoples and regions. And that was really what there was in the strike: People dressed in Western clothes mingled with men and women in traditional outfits from all over. And what united them was a desire for change expressed through a language that, years ago, a colonial government had decided wasn´t up to standards.
Which brings me to something else (although by no means a chronological something else). I´m working on switching the daily classes I take from Spanish to Quecha. Some of you might think this is hasty, but I really want to be able to communicate with these women in their own language and, if I do say so myself, my Spanish is pretty good (although no where near perfict).
So, the strike left Thursday and Friday for work. Thursday we worked with the women on their views for their organization, Durazno Ti´kay. When we fianlly hammered the goals out, we had the basis of a mission statement, a huge acomplishment. We then took the ideas home and made them sound nice. So (drumroll please) here´s the recently created mission statement of Durazno Ti´kay:
´The Durazno Ti´kay mission is to improve the economic situation of the women in the group while providing friendship and support to one another and facilitating the exploration of new cultures and ideas.´
I really think this mission hits on the true purpose of the group. Namely that it´s not just a business but a place women can go to meet other women, socialize and share problems and joys. Also, through it´s connection to ProPeru, it brings in volunteers from far away lands. Given that these women have never left Peru, have often never left the Sacred Valley, this cultural exchange is extremely valuable.
Friday was the last day of the first volunteers time. They had both been there for a month, since the inception of the group, so it was a very emotional departure. The women made a delicious stew, chiche (traditional beer mythically, although not actually, fermented by saliva) and a tradition juice. There was dancing and singing , in English, Quiche and Spanish, and general merriment. It was a great fiesta.
And that wrapped up my week. A generally good end, with premoniotions of even better things to come.
Next installment, my past weekend
And, a promised, a little Quecha for you all at home (phonetically written because,as we all know, spelling in any language is not a strong point for me and the computer does not have Quecha spellcheck):
No´qu muna tikki: I love you
Monday we helped the old volunteers give out English assessment tests to see what the women had learned and what they needed more work on. Because the women are so used to working in a group (not necesarily in our group, but in life in Peru in general) we had to phyisiscally separate them and do a one-on-one administration of the tests to make sure that we really knew what each woman knew, as opposed to what the women and their neighbors knew together. What we discovered was that there was a wide range of comprehension but that, in general, numbers and colors were easire than clothing items (and forget about congugating verbs). Wefound out later that the old volunteers had worked extensively on numbers and colors, so there is no surprise there. We then spent some time chatting with the women as they knitted their wares.
Tuesday and Wednesday were national strikes protesting the rising cost of living through oil and food. Thousands of people marched in the streets, made rock barricades in the roads so that transoprtation couldnt pass and burnt tires, and thats in the sleepy little town of Urubamba. People from all surrounding parts of the Sacred Valley filtered into Urubamba and ended up in the tiny town square, outside of the church, where giant speekers were set up. And then the best part happened: leaders of all communities, including a large ammount of women, gave speeches. They sounded very moving, whith rounds of applauseand dramatic pauses, but I couldnt tell because...they were all in Quecha! It was so moving to hear these people speak their grievences in their first language and take power into there own hands. Of course, because I´m a protest junkey, I stuck around and did catch a few of the chants, some of which were really quite clever:
Theres the clasic: El pueblo, unido, jamas sera vencido
(The people, united, will never lose)
And then some new ones for me: El pueblo, escucha, uno cada lucha
(People, listen, all for one)
El pueblo en las calles por culpa del gobierno
(The people in the street by fault of the government)
Aqui, alla, el paro es total
(Here, there, the strikeis everywhere)
La costa, la selva, la teirra, el paro es total
(The coast, the jungle, the plains, the strike is everywhere)
I especially like the last one because it highlights Peru´s vast array of climates, peoples and regions. And that was really what there was in the strike: People dressed in Western clothes mingled with men and women in traditional outfits from all over. And what united them was a desire for change expressed through a language that, years ago, a colonial government had decided wasn´t up to standards.
Which brings me to something else (although by no means a chronological something else). I´m working on switching the daily classes I take from Spanish to Quecha. Some of you might think this is hasty, but I really want to be able to communicate with these women in their own language and, if I do say so myself, my Spanish is pretty good (although no where near perfict).
So, the strike left Thursday and Friday for work. Thursday we worked with the women on their views for their organization, Durazno Ti´kay. When we fianlly hammered the goals out, we had the basis of a mission statement, a huge acomplishment. We then took the ideas home and made them sound nice. So (drumroll please) here´s the recently created mission statement of Durazno Ti´kay:
´The Durazno Ti´kay mission is to improve the economic situation of the women in the group while providing friendship and support to one another and facilitating the exploration of new cultures and ideas.´
I really think this mission hits on the true purpose of the group. Namely that it´s not just a business but a place women can go to meet other women, socialize and share problems and joys. Also, through it´s connection to ProPeru, it brings in volunteers from far away lands. Given that these women have never left Peru, have often never left the Sacred Valley, this cultural exchange is extremely valuable.
Friday was the last day of the first volunteers time. They had both been there for a month, since the inception of the group, so it was a very emotional departure. The women made a delicious stew, chiche (traditional beer mythically, although not actually, fermented by saliva) and a tradition juice. There was dancing and singing , in English, Quiche and Spanish, and general merriment. It was a great fiesta.
And that wrapped up my week. A generally good end, with premoniotions of even better things to come.
Next installment, my past weekend
And, a promised, a little Quecha for you all at home (phonetically written because,as we all know, spelling in any language is not a strong point for me and the computer does not have Quecha spellcheck):
No´qu muna tikki: I love you
Saturday, July 12, 2008
The Project
As you know (or might not) I´m working with a womens´collective about ten minurtes outside of Urubamba in an even smaller town called Yanawhara. The groups´ name is Durazno Ti´kay which means, in a mixture of Spanish and Quecha, Peach Flower. The group is made up of about 30 women, although we can expect around 20 to be at any one meeting, who make up the lower economic group of Yanawhara.
About a month ago the group formed with the very lofty goals of creating woven products to export, especially to the US, and there-by increase their economic situation. The beauty of the group is that they can 1) band together to get their name out and provide each other support and 2) work from home so that they do not neglect tehir children and families. The group came to ProPeru, the NGO I´m working with, and asked for support. So here I am...
Every day at 3:00 I take a convi (a van filled to the brim with people) over to Yanawhara. The meeting place, a large bare room with stools and benches, is in the house of one of the women who belongs to Durazno Ti´kay. People, women, kids and dogs, start to filter in at around 3:30 and fill teh room with chatting and with knitting (tejando). When we´ve reached our maximum for the day we start an hour-long lesson of some sort. The women really want to learn business English, so they´re working right now on colors, numbers and the names of the items they make. The problem with the English is that, although the women span in age, the majority are more toward the thirth/forty group, ages when learning new languages is fairly difficult. Still, some seem to pick up the English right away and begin to ask me and each other ´how old are you?´and ´what is your name?´
There were two volunteers before me and my partner, Michelle, who began teaching English and a variety of other things. They discovered that the women absolutely love a varieation on Yoga whcih basically involves streching. They also tried to teach some basic business skills like accounting and the importance of keeping inventory. We´ll keep up these lessons as well as start some new ones on basic math, womens´rights and, really, anything else that strikes us. Because the project is so new, we´ve got a great indepoendence in what we teach (whcih is at the same time thrilling ans terrifying).
And now to the women themselves. They´re wonderful. There are a few women in their twneties, more in their thirties and some in their forties. None of them has ever been a part of a group like thsi before and, from what I can tell, none of them has ever worked outside of their home (although, technically, they´re not now either). The vast majority are bilingual in Spanish (whcih is called Castellano) and Quecha, the most widely spoken native language in Peru. Some, however, only speak Quecha. Most are literate and some have absolutely beautiful penmanship. There are two mothers with young children who consistantly come to meetings. Their children are adorable and a source of entertainment (one began to dance wildly on Friday) for us and the group.
The organization has a board of directors consisting of four women. They are, by far, the most dedicated women. They are very willing to share their thoughts and oppinions, always come to class and work hardest at their English skills. They are truely amazing and are inspirational to the rest of the group, myself included.
After our lesson the women have an hour or so to work on their projects. However, the vast majority of work they´ll do at home. This is a time for us to interact with the women, to learn about them, their lives and their goals. This is also a time for us to learn from the women. On Friday I began my first Quecha lesson, which consisted of much giggiling as women point to parts of their bodies and named them in Quecha for me. There are a lot of sounds in Quecha that I´m not familiar with, as well as some glotteral stops, whcih we don´t really have in English (the apostrophy in Ti´kay is an example) so I´m going slowly. Hopefully I´ll learn enough for a sentance or two by the next blog.
Until then...
About a month ago the group formed with the very lofty goals of creating woven products to export, especially to the US, and there-by increase their economic situation. The beauty of the group is that they can 1) band together to get their name out and provide each other support and 2) work from home so that they do not neglect tehir children and families. The group came to ProPeru, the NGO I´m working with, and asked for support. So here I am...
Every day at 3:00 I take a convi (a van filled to the brim with people) over to Yanawhara. The meeting place, a large bare room with stools and benches, is in the house of one of the women who belongs to Durazno Ti´kay. People, women, kids and dogs, start to filter in at around 3:30 and fill teh room with chatting and with knitting (tejando). When we´ve reached our maximum for the day we start an hour-long lesson of some sort. The women really want to learn business English, so they´re working right now on colors, numbers and the names of the items they make. The problem with the English is that, although the women span in age, the majority are more toward the thirth/forty group, ages when learning new languages is fairly difficult. Still, some seem to pick up the English right away and begin to ask me and each other ´how old are you?´and ´what is your name?´
There were two volunteers before me and my partner, Michelle, who began teaching English and a variety of other things. They discovered that the women absolutely love a varieation on Yoga whcih basically involves streching. They also tried to teach some basic business skills like accounting and the importance of keeping inventory. We´ll keep up these lessons as well as start some new ones on basic math, womens´rights and, really, anything else that strikes us. Because the project is so new, we´ve got a great indepoendence in what we teach (whcih is at the same time thrilling ans terrifying).
And now to the women themselves. They´re wonderful. There are a few women in their twneties, more in their thirties and some in their forties. None of them has ever been a part of a group like thsi before and, from what I can tell, none of them has ever worked outside of their home (although, technically, they´re not now either). The vast majority are bilingual in Spanish (whcih is called Castellano) and Quecha, the most widely spoken native language in Peru. Some, however, only speak Quecha. Most are literate and some have absolutely beautiful penmanship. There are two mothers with young children who consistantly come to meetings. Their children are adorable and a source of entertainment (one began to dance wildly on Friday) for us and the group.
The organization has a board of directors consisting of four women. They are, by far, the most dedicated women. They are very willing to share their thoughts and oppinions, always come to class and work hardest at their English skills. They are truely amazing and are inspirational to the rest of the group, myself included.
After our lesson the women have an hour or so to work on their projects. However, the vast majority of work they´ll do at home. This is a time for us to interact with the women, to learn about them, their lives and their goals. This is also a time for us to learn from the women. On Friday I began my first Quecha lesson, which consisted of much giggiling as women point to parts of their bodies and named them in Quecha for me. There are a lot of sounds in Quecha that I´m not familiar with, as well as some glotteral stops, whcih we don´t really have in English (the apostrophy in Ti´kay is an example) so I´m going slowly. Hopefully I´ll learn enough for a sentance or two by the next blog.
Until then...
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Urubamba
Hello Everyone!
I'm late for dinner, so I'll make this short. I origionally thought that I would be in Cuzco, a large city in the South of Peru, working with battered women. Instead I am in Urubamba, a tiny city an hour away from Cuzco, working with a womens' collective. Such is flexibility and life in Latin America.
I arrived, after 17 hours of travel and a bad 3 hours of sleep on a bench in the Lima airprot, in Cuzco on July 6th. I had a quick orientation there with about 15 other ProPeru volunteers and then 12 of us took the beautiful and windy drive to Urubamba.
Urubamba (which means something-valley in Quiche) is a city/town of about 3000 (talk about culture shock) built in a grid arround a central plaza and, of course, the local Catholic church. It's surrounded on all sides by beautiful mountians, some that we can see in the distance, are snow capped. Two mountians on eather side of town have large crosses atop them and, on all sides, various organizations have somehow written messages in the mountian grass. The most prominant is a huge "711" which is not a fast food store but a local high school. Needless to say, it is beautiful.
The weather is also a shock. Teribly cold in the morning and as soon as the sun disappears behind the mountains, it is extremely hot during the day. Still, it's not as cold (nor as elevated) as Cuzco, so that's a blessing.
More later...
Julia
I'm late for dinner, so I'll make this short. I origionally thought that I would be in Cuzco, a large city in the South of Peru, working with battered women. Instead I am in Urubamba, a tiny city an hour away from Cuzco, working with a womens' collective. Such is flexibility and life in Latin America.
I arrived, after 17 hours of travel and a bad 3 hours of sleep on a bench in the Lima airprot, in Cuzco on July 6th. I had a quick orientation there with about 15 other ProPeru volunteers and then 12 of us took the beautiful and windy drive to Urubamba.
Urubamba (which means something-valley in Quiche) is a city/town of about 3000 (talk about culture shock) built in a grid arround a central plaza and, of course, the local Catholic church. It's surrounded on all sides by beautiful mountians, some that we can see in the distance, are snow capped. Two mountians on eather side of town have large crosses atop them and, on all sides, various organizations have somehow written messages in the mountian grass. The most prominant is a huge "711" which is not a fast food store but a local high school. Needless to say, it is beautiful.
The weather is also a shock. Teribly cold in the morning and as soon as the sun disappears behind the mountains, it is extremely hot during the day. Still, it's not as cold (nor as elevated) as Cuzco, so that's a blessing.
More later...
Julia
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