Bienvenidos a Carabayllo: Distrito Histórico y Ecológico

working hard

2007-03-17T06:41:00.000-05:00

I went to the clinic - received a prescription for antibiotics - am now better. Feeling like my old self again (this picture is literally my old self back in September 2006).

sickness continues

2007-03-07T11:20:00.000-05:00

I continue to be sick. The slight fever creeps up every day and the bowel problems persist. I have have yet to go to the clinic. They may be able to cure the physical malady but there is something much stronger bothering me. Yet I am here in the office, exhausted and with pressing work due.

I will detail this at a following post, and I hope doing so is not considered mere histrionics.

sickness

2007-03-01T17:21:00.000-05:00

This week I have been ill. On Tuesday I suffered from dehydration that lead to stomach problems and body aches... yeah, I know I'm a wuss. Today I woke up at 3:45a.m. with chills and realized that I had contracted a fever.

The work this summer has been physically brutal. On both Thursdays and Friday's Collin and I take the kids out swimming, pretty much all day long. I have a 14 hour day on Friday and on Saturday run the sports taller. All in all, lots of physical work.

This is all coming together to wear me down. Today I'm taking another day off hoping to catch up on rest and some work.

chosica

2007-03-01T17:04:00.000-05:00

To mark the end of the summer holidays (yes, it's warm and sunny here) the promotores and our team ventured out to Chosica. About an hour east of Lima, the weather here is perennially warm and dry. Water parks and picnic areas abound.

After a day of activities (three legged races, treasure hunts, volleyball match, etc.) we capped the adventure with a trip down the Tobogan la Roca. Here's Beto, a wonderfully comic promotor, making a splash.

choke hold

2007-02-19T15:53:00.000-05:00

Kleyder and I have grown old during this adventure.

thoughts on cooking

2007-02-19T15:18:00.000-05:00

On this fine day, some thoughts on cooking:

It is a fine priviledge to have a table on top of which to cut; a knife with a handle; to have a floor that is not dirt; to have a latrine far from where you wash potatoes.

The poverty I witness is interesting: the latest fashion. We have TVs, DVDs, CDs, and VCDs; blenders, gas stoves, stainless steel pots and pans; consumers of goods from China and whereabouts.

We have clean water in a bucket and roosters on top of it; wood burning ovens and wooden chairs to burn.

We have worm-eaten lettuce and potatoes, and chickens injected with contaminated water.

We make do and continue to cook.

día del amor y la amistad

2007-02-19T14:31:00.000-05:00

From left to right: Giovana, Rocio, Nelson (siblings), Ximena, Gisela cooking up a storm for our Valentine's day dinner. We are to dine on Aji de Gallina, then exchange handmade gifts, and finish off the evening by watching "My Sassy Girl".

roger

2007-02-12T10:04:00.000-05:00

Once a "promotor" himself, now heading his own initiative within SES, Roger is a good friend and agent of change. Here we were, chatting of the woes of being a volunteer.

C

we

2007-02-06T10:52:00.000-05:00

At a tour of a vineyard in Chinca home of Pisco. From left to right: Collin, Luzmila, Holly, Chloë, and Alicia.

las chicas

2007-02-06T10:02:00.000-05:00

Ditto.

los chicos

2007-02-06T09:54:00.000-05:00

After a laid-back afternoon at the pool, los chicos, "promotores" for this new year, pose for the camera.

islas ballestas

2007-02-06T09:10:00.000-05:00

This past weekend SES sponsored a field trip to the Ballestas Islands, south of Lima. According to our tour guide, the bird guano collecting on the rooftops of these great rock formations, was collected and sold as fertilizer to pay off Peru's foreign debt. Sounds like good business practice.

voley

2007-02-05T22:29:00.000-05:00

Vanessa "matando" in a casual Friday afternoon game of voley.

under water

2007-02-05T14:11:00.000-05:00

Roberto and Nelson, two new promotores, enjoying the underwater fun. Picture by Collin.

of chile and peru

2007-02-01T11:58:00.000-05:00

Elaine and I returned recently from a trip to Arica, Chile. Our objective was to renew our visa and spend some time under the stars at Lauca National Park.

We booked a flight on Peru's own AeroCondor airline to Tacna, a town in a free-trade zone (whatever that means) and near the border with Chile. We then maneuvered our way to the bus terminal and booked seats on a mid-sized bus heading South to cross the border.

A month ago, Elaine and I were in Cuzco where we witnessed a throng protest LAN's presence in the Peruvian airline scene. The slogans went to the tune of: "Get out LAN! Support Peruvian Airlines!"

As stated, AeroCondor is a Peruvian airline. LAN, is a Chilean enterprise.

Perhaps the protester's message left an imprint in my sub-conscious and led me to support a Peruvian airline. Or perhaps the cheap airfare convinced me. AeroCondor offered a round trip to Tacna for $94.13 while LAN neared $120.

I can't say I regret that decision, but I will say that I hope not to fly AeroCondor again. On the way from Lima to Tacna and again from Tacna to Lima, we were delayed over 1 hour. This was something definitely worth taking in stride. Unfortunately, it is indicative of the consistent and frustrating delays and inconveniences found here.

But let me not dwell on that too much, I'm over it.

Arica is now part of Chile but was once part of Peru. It's a shame for Peru since they lost fine dessert beaches and access to some breathtaking Andean landscapes. Elaine and I spent a day at the beach before heading out by bus to Lauca. We eventually settled in the small town of Parinacota (population: 15) at circa 4,400 meters above sea level. Parinacota is the only town in the park and offers a breathtaking landscape in every direction. We met a Polish national who had bicycled from Buenos Aires to Parinacota. We saw the Milky Way like I've never seen it before.

We also got sick from the altitude. Our evening was fairly sleepless and cold. The next day we tried to venture out to visit the Lake Chungara, a lake at the base of the Parinacota volcanoes some 4,600 meters above sea level. The path was beautiful and we saw many birds, viscachas, alpaca, and llamas. We reached 4,600 but not the lake. The sun and the altitude got the best of us. I was ready to die.

Fortunately, we reached a road and after some time, hitched a ride back down to Parinacota where we picked up our bags. I convinced the family that picked us up to let us hitch our way down to Arica. On the way down we spoke of Pinochet, and other things.

After a long day of adventure, we finally arrived back in Arica, home of some fabulous pino empanadas (tiny bread pockets stuffed with beef and onions). We rested and took the next day at the beach, at sea level, with no alpacas in sight.

young folk

2007-02-01T11:13:00.000-05:00

Another great picture by Collin: from left to right, Kelly, Breyson (in front), Jonathan and his sister, Wilder and Rebecca (brother and sister).

charles

2007-02-01T10:53:00.000-05:00

This is Charles, one of the promotores juveniles. He is 22 years old and is transitioning into young adulthood. Picture by Collin.

end of part one

2007-01-10T20:34:00.000-05:00

End of part one.

Do toes have knuckles? Her toe knuckles are grey and shiny, like the edges of angles of the stone in Inca walls. She wears flips flops because it is summer, I believe. Her name is C. of ten years old. I hope her teeth straighten as she grows. Wonderfully real, and consistent, she is always in the background. Never having asked for much, but always giving, she inspires me to begin writing again.

I have completed 6 months of "service." End of part one.

Last night I commented: I've done this all wrong. Like a fool, at every turn I believed myself to be right. But after reading Ulysses, I've realized things change. What once was dense but knowable is clear and ultimately unknowable.

To "develop" others, as I believed development work to be, is shoddy enterprise. A career ought not be made of it. Like a fool, I've only realized now that I am here to be developed, to learn from my other, and to cook, under low heat, and slowly, the soup that is the broth of us both. Only then, can I achieve what I hope; a taste I cannot yet describe.

There is a picture stored in bits somewhere on this blog. It contains Elkin, Nemias, Jon and perhaps somebody else. If anybody, it is me, the picture taker. The children, these "poor" children are searching for a lost spinning top among a pile of garbage that is to the left, not the right, of the Lois y Thomas, our home. I keep coming back to this image, sometimes seeing it as black, others as white, and sometimes as grey. Is this an "Area of Moral Clarity" reader? Children looking for their lost and spinning top in a pile of trash.

I wondered then and sometimes now: ¿porqué? Why must it be so?

The simple answer is lack of trash cans and trash removal service. The old me had gathered troops from the richer, if not cleaner, parts of Lima to join hands with the community and "clean-up." The new me, six months older than the old, still has some of the old in him. But, will this be a solution satisfactory of the new year? I am leaning towards a "no."

This work has kicked my ass. I have been humbled. I have been angered. Yet, importantly, I have realized one thing: this is not about me.

Beginning of part two.

Thank you!

2006-12-22T12:05:00.002-05:00

Dear Friends,

Thank you for helping me get to where I am now. Without you, I would not have the privilege of enjoying the holidays south of the Equator. Although I miss home and family, this experience brings me closer to them than one would think. Jon, Masha, the elder Geyers and Elaine are with me. On Christmas day, I plan to drink hot chocolate and eat 'panetón' with Julio who guards the house day in and day out and probably misses his family much like I do.

Happy holidays from Peru,

C

And so this is Christmas

2006-12-22T11:26:00.001-05:00

When I took Elaine to the community where I work, we climbed up a dusty road leading to the uppermost shanties. Then we took a left into a nondescript path of desert soil until we reached a no man's land. From here, we looked ahead and saw nothing but sky ahead, rocks behind and long yellow stairs below leading down and littered with dogs to the left and the right. At this uppermost point, this penthouse, we waited to be accompanied by the children who could protect us from the dogs as we climbed down. Challo, Mickey, Carolina were there to protect Elaine and me.

We made out way down these great stairs. They are signs of progress some would say; a reification: the white man is in charge but is kind and in due time will build you stairs to climb up to your shanty and down. Yellow and immediate, they cut the landscape from top to bottom and by way of concrete, bind themselves, and the people around them, into the mountain.

And so, we continued until we approached a step with a dead dog. Small and golden, but an ugly mutt, with the twisted face of Doberman and Collie in the body of a breed small enough to fit dead on a single cement step. Blood had once streamed from the corner of its mouth. We stepped over it but I emphasized: "See! See that there are dead dogs and this is what I have to see when I come to work! See that post with the picture of the dead dog! You see why it's there!" Oh, silly me.

And so this is Christmas, and what have we done? I've climbed up the mountain to wait for protection to climb back down. I hope that along the journey I also offered my own bit of protection to Challo, Mickey, Carolina, etc.

busy days

2006-11-24T10:04:00.000-05:00

I've spent this entire week in the office extracting some sense from my field notes. The hope lies in the observations recorded in these notes, in my field notebook. I seek muse in the messy blue or black lines in this notebook and search for what I have already seen and felt and smelled: the need for something extraordinary to happen here, to these children who deserve it; the need for a flash of white lightning to strike ground and jolt the seed in the hard land and let it grow, to survive and stand as example of the good will and smarts of that lightning and all those who are part of this. Who says it has not happened already?

These are hard aspirations indeed and must explain why it has taken me a week to write nothing but a few phrases in mixed language (Castellano and English) that detail not-much.

Wish me luck! I already tire of the office routine and yearn for the "campo" where I cut my teeth and soul learning to learn and playing to play, always dirty and dusty. Let's do hope that this time in a cubicle in Lima, Peru, will yield something good; will open the doors for honest evaluation of past efforts and agressive aspirations for the future.

The school year winds to an end and I too am happy to see the summer flow and to wear shorts and simple t-shirts. I will spend this short-sleeve capital on composing a symphony of flow in the waters of public pools where Collin and I will instruct the young ones in swimming and inspire water fun. Another dream come true, might as well confess another in hopes of having the same luck I've had here: med school?

hi!

2006-11-18T12:12:00.000-05:00

There is a beautiful scene around me:

We all sit at our corresponding portion of desk working on our corresponding portion of good, and through the doorway behind me, one I barely pay attention to, light streams and so does music from an old megaphone posted above a street market concretely organized behind our office, made of shacks and stands cemented by hot and cold, and dirty and clean food. And blaring from this megaphone is the beautiful "criollo" music of Peru, melancholic and always proud of the motherland, sounding first within a small circular metal space that aggressively expands into air leading the sound, the voices, sometimes unclear, but always strong, to reach me and move my heart. What an experience!

I never imagined being in Peru—to hear the guitars and the "caja" make melody and harmony with voice—to sweat below the ecuator, under clouds that bless the land. I've flown over that silky, silver cover, broken at times by magnificent and jagged mountains, products of strong and fearsome quakes.

This work is hard but also beautiful. I've been on the edge of drunkenness with Paul Farmer; delighted in a genius cuisine, too often eclipsed by rice and potatoes; learned some of the orthographic rules of Castellano; contracted diarrhea; done research; pissed people off; made others laugh; given more hugs than ever before; given my blood to fleas, my sweat to the polluted sky, and my tears to Elaine. I've fallen in love with a land that poses a tremendously stubborn problem but a wonderful invitation to engage and dance along the many rhythms of the southern hemisphere.

And so how do I conclude this impromptu post, written in an office, on a street, in a place far away from you? By making you feel that I am close, much closer to you all than I have ever been.

patas arriba

2006-11-13T22:30:00.000-05:00

2006-11-13T22:28:00.000-05:00

2006-11-13T22:26:00.000-05:00

2006-11-13T22:22:00.000-05:00

poem

2006-11-10T12:57:00.000-05:00

I thought of you when I ate this morning at an outdoor street market
all the veggies were poor and dirty
and I thought that it is unjust for people to have to eat lower grade food
and I wanted to take a picture of the hand holding the spoon feeding the mouth of the man next to me, filthy and black
eating soup
I ordered what I thought were mushrooms but discovered to be organ
and some chunks of fried meat with golden and crispy 5 o'clock shadows
I left for fear of vomiting
but it only cost S/. 3.50

2006-11-07T10:57:00.000-05:00

2006-11-07T10:46:00.000-05:00

PEF and the volunteers

2006-11-07T10:40:00.000-05:00

Here we are from left to right: Collin, Chloë, Paul Edward Farmer (PEF), Holly, and yours truly. We each consumed two Pisco Sours and talked of "eating shit for the poor." Good times.

field trip with "promotores"

2006-11-07T10:30:00.000-05:00

The team of "promotores" is pictured here along with L. and her little one. The males are overwhelmed by the females. As seems to be the case throughout, women dominate the field of community development.

Here we are on the "trompo."

dead dog

2006-11-03T14:29:00.000-05:00

I discovered this dog lying dead in front of his keeper's home. The day before, I discovered him dying under a heap of trash. After freeing him and speaking with his owner I learned that he, Punky, had gone missing for a week.

So why is there a picture of a dead dog on my blog?

I have been told that it is a disturbing image. Yes it is.

in caracas

2006-10-23T16:34:00.000-05:00

Hey folks! I am in Caracas, Venezuela, attending a wedding. More posting to come once I settle in.

Cheers,

C

temblor

2006-10-20T08:30:00.000-05:00

The earth shook today and made me feel it. I had never experienced such a thing and although my mother always warned me of the trembling of that which is most basic, our earth and everything on top of it, I was not prepared.

Collin slept through it, but I sat in bed, in the grey light of 5:50a.m and was rocked, side-to-side, while my ears focused on the rhythmic and disturbing sound of a neighboring and empty apartment building swaying to and fro.

fool

2006-10-12T11:46:00.000-05:00

I look foolish walking in the shantytowns of Carabayllo. I stumble easily on the small- and medium-sized rocks throughout and cannot yet decipher the difference between a dirt path used for walking and a dirt path used for urinating. Often I stray into paths littered with dog feces and trash and can only resort to plow through or to climb up until I am on safe ground. I am writing this from the office where I sit at my desk trying to ignore the stench of shit coming from my left sneaker.

I am the only person for some distance wearing a chullo. It is impossible to blend in and difficult to know that I may not be accepted.

the happenings

2006-10-09T08:51:00.000-05:00

This past week has been eventful.

My significant other has arrived in Lima and will be keeping me company in this journey of mine as well as exploring her own path. Just this Sunday we set out to Lima's "barrio chino" (chinatown) to eat dim sum and ended up in a police station discussing rat droppings and chrysanthemum tea.

At work, things are coming along, slowly. On Collin's recommendation, I am making it habit to visit parents every afternoon. At first it was to check up on kids that were absent or late but on the recomendation of my boss, we are going to expand the objective and use this opportunity to get to know parents and their needs. I will have to start flexing those ethnographic muscles of mine.

I do not have enough time to do what is required here. I need another Carlos to help me craft a curriculum, assessments, teach, post on this blog, etc. Hopefully, I will progress and get my act together despite the great disorder that gets in the way.

More to come.

C

dinámica

2006-10-02T10:58:00.000-05:00

We began Friday's "promotor" meeting with an icebreaker or "dinámica" called "El Circulo." I take a pice of rope and fashion a circle on the floor. Everybody has to fit in the circle. At first it's easy because the circle is large. The challenge is to continue to fit the same amount of people as the circle gets smaller and smaller. Here are some pictures of the action.

I'm trying to begin all our Friday night meetings with an icebreaker to loosen everybody up.

Do you all have some ideas for icebreakers that emphasize teamwork?

connections

2006-09-30T20:16:00.000-05:00

I spent this Saturday morning on a cliff above the Pacific ocean spinning a top. I was in the company of children and some university students from the Pontifica Universidad Católica de Perú. This was the final session of a four part workshop on games as educational tools.

Needless to say, a good time was had by all. The university students and I have volunteered to help run a fair for little ones. The sponsors of the event have hosted training sessions the last four Saturday mornings to get us ready.

After today's session, I mentioned to the whole group of young idealists that I need their help. The response was very good and we exchanged contact information. Soon, I hope to meet with these young men and women to discuss ways in which they can contribute to our efforts.

So it's kinda sad that most of the volunteers here at SES are American. I realize that we are members of a priviledged few—we have the means to take a year off from work and live abroad with no income—but there must be a way to involve more of the people who have a real stake in this country (whatever that means).

I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

C
Perhaps,

the pedagogical question

2006-09-29T11:46:00.000-05:00

While working with César and Jonathan, I discovered something interesting:

I had two sets of flash cards, one quizzed multiplication, the other quizzed division. César, a fifth grader, feels comfortable with both operations. Jonathan, a third grader, is wary of division. I gave César the multiplication flash cards and Jonathan the division cards. Jonathan would use the cards to quiz César and César would quiz Jonathan. We made a game of it: they would take turns quizzing each other and would score a point for each correct answer. At the end we tallied the scores and César, the fifth grader quizzed in division, tied with Jonathan, the third grader quizzed in multiplication. I think they had fun.

So what's interesting about this you ask? It is an example of differentiated learning and instruction.

In our reality, we serve children of different ages, grade levels, skills, talents, and needs. We do not have the manpower to provide each child with one-on-one time to address this multitude. However, if we present content in a manner that recognizes this individuality and emphasizes the shared experience that is active learning, we may be able to better serve these little ones.

And heck, it may be lots of fun too!

Cheers,

C

kleider, gonzalo y elkín

2006-09-29T11:32:00.000-05:00

From left to righ: Kleider, Gonzalo, and Elkín.

things

2006-09-27T23:34:00.000-05:00

Hello folks,

I'm writing this post in a van, on my way to Carabayllo:

Thing1
I once wrote about visiting a woman on her deathbed, seeing her "face gaunt with death." Her name was Inez. She is dead now, expiring a week after a teenage girl from 28 de Julio committed suicide. I attended Inez's wake because I saw her in agony and thought I should see her in peace. She was lying on a table with a thin sheet over her body. Her trunk, with her swollen belly, was placed grotesquely between her skinny head and legs. Light streamed in through the sizeable gaps in the thatched roof.

Thing2
Chayllo arrived to the taller with conjuctivitis. I was asked to send her home for the sake of the other children. This was a tough job. Chayllo seeks love an attention in great amounts and exclusion does not serve her well. I did my best and explained the nature of conjunctivitis by using a deck of cards. No matter, I still had to send her away.

Thing3
Leyla is Miguel's little sister. She falls asleep often in class. Two days ago she fell asleep and did not wake up. We tried everything but she would not wake up. Don't worry, she was alive and well, but would not wake up. Come 5p.m. I carried the 3-foot-5 girl as if she were mine, rode a mototaxi as far as I could, and climbed a rocky cerro to deliver her to her mom. As I said, she was alive and well, but would not wake up.

Thing4
Collin, another volunteer, has begun to work in Carabayllo on Tuesdays. What a relief it is to let off steam in English! Normally at the end of a taller, I sit mute to the right of the cab driver and stop thinking as we ride home. This Tuesday, I was able to speak what was on my mind soon after those thoughts were shaped and got feedback from somebody who was not born in Peru. Sometimes that's what you need.

purple rain

2006-09-21T08:05:00.000-05:00

I've gained weight working here.

The steady rations of rice have deposited around my trunk, cheeks, arms and legs. I keep meaning to run in the mornings or evenings, but never manage.

I am very tired of this place but yes, I know I must keep going.

problem 1 continued

2006-09-14T06:39:00.000-05:00

This post has been difficult for me to write. There are ideas churning in my head that I fail to understand in full... I will compensate by simple writing that we are:

organizing students into smaller groups based on their grade and class section,
developing a weekly program of learning activities
emphasizing punctuality and attendance
requiring field reports after every taller

There is more to this than meets the eyes. More words tonight.

C

welcoming sign

2006-09-14T06:34:00.000-05:00

There is my welcoming sign.

11/9

2006-09-12T14:33:00.000-05:00

What a breath of fresh air!

No rememberance; no mourning; no moneyshots; no holes; no politicking.

The date in Lima reads 11/9, and in that reversal of month and day, perspective is restored. I do not mark this black holiday, the same way I do not mark the day my father passed away.

2 months down

2006-09-11T07:00:00.000-05:00

Folks,

I've survived 66 days in Peru.

I have learned that progress is not achieved overnight. It takes 65 days:

Sixteen of 30 parents attended Sunday's meeting. That figure represents 24 out of 43 children registered in this program. With this slight majority we fashioned concensus. Each day, we will spend one hour working on homework and one hour working on "learning skills."

To elaborate I will quote Ann's comment:

One essential element is for them to learn what questions to ask, to know that they need strategies for solving a problem. So, making learning an explicit, active job is important.

Creating a curriculum with this in mind is the next task.

Cheers,

C

Los Prisioneros - El Baile De Los Que Sobran

2006-09-08T12:08:00.000-05:00

Es otra noche mas,
de caminar
Es otro fin de mes,
sin novedad

Mis amigos se quedaron
igual que tu,
este año se les acabaron
los juegos,
los 12 juegos

(coro)
unanse al baile,
de los que sobran,
nadie nos va a echar de mas,
nadie nos quizo ayudar de verdad.
La-ra-la-la, la-ra-la-la...

Nos dijeron cuando chicos
juegen a estudiar,
los hombres son hermanos
y juntos deben trabajar,
oias los consejos
los ojos en el profersor,
habia tanto sol
sobre las cabezas,
y no fue tan verdad porque esos juegos al final
terminaron para otros con laureles y futuros
y dejaron a mis amigos pateando piedras (o fumando hierbas)

(coro)

Hey,
conozco unos cuentos,
sobre el futuro,
hey, el tiempo en que los aprendi,
fue el mas seguro

Bajo los zapatos,
barro mas cemento,
el futuro no es ninguno,
de los prometidos en los 12 juegos,
a otros les enseñaron,
secretos que a ti no,
a otros dieron de verdad esa cosa llamada educacion,
ellos tenian esfuerzo ellos tenian dedicacion,
y para que,
para terminar bailando y pateando piedras (o fumando hierbas)

unanse al baile...
(coro)

Los Prisioneros

organizing notes and progress

2006-09-07T20:16:00.000-05:00

I confess, I did not progress much regarding the organization of my notes. However, I did progress in other ways.

Today I encouraged our team to meet to discuss the non-existing agenda for the upcoming parent meeting. I spent this entire week tracking down individual parents, and avoiding their corresponding dogs, to extend personal invitations. All 15 progenitors visited have promised to attend. Knowing that the stakes are high, I figured the best thing to do today was prepare for the big day.

The first meeting took place in our small office, L., S., and I discussed our goals and plotted them across the timeline allotted. The most important portion of the meeting will be our attempts to define, in clear, relevant, and understandable terms, the function of the taller.

We aim to close the achievement gap. This cannot be done simply by helping students to complete their homework. What happens to those who cannot read but have to write? What happens to those who cannot add two numbers but must multiply five? What happens to those whose parents cannot read, or add, or multiply?

As a lovely woman mentioned in an earlier comment: we must teach children how to learn.

Our meeting led to consensus. We communicated this consensus to our superiors who approved. Slowly, we build process and structure, and let the winds of change flow though the offices of bureaucracy.

Now we must see what the progenitors say of all this for they are the agents of change.

buda

2006-09-06T22:05:00.000-05:00

Buddha in Spanish:

Los hombres que pierden la salud para juntar dinero y luego pierden dinero para recuperar la salud y que, por pensar ansiosamente en el futuro, olvidan el presente, de tal forma que acaban por no vivir ni el presente ni el futuro; viven como si nunca fuesen a morir y mueren como si nunca hubiesen vivido.

problem 1

2006-09-06T10:34:00.000-05:00

So let us rewind to the first day of work:

The morning was unremarkable. I exchanged details with my new coworkers and listened inattentavily during our weekly and seemingly interminable meeting.

The afternoon was frightening. I entered the taller, took my place among the childlike chaos, and played my part.

It is strange to realize now that I do not recall many of the details of that first encounter. I do not recall who yelled "Enseñame!" I do not recall what subject we worked on. I do not recall the outcome of our intellectual exchange. Perhaps we chatted over the multiplication of fractions or perhaps their additions. Was it was Marcelina or Chayo?

What I do recall is a feeling. As our chaos dispersed, I wondered if the knowledge I worked hard to transfer/exchange would serve its purpose the next day. I realized that once again I could not know.

Once again because I had been down this path before. As an after-school instructor, I had many times before worked hard to transfer a nice piece of knowledge. Often it regarded the programming of plastic Danish robots, or the writing of stories using a digital language. Always, as my stint came to an end, I would fail to see how the knowledge behaved in the hands of my student. Moreover, on a day to day basis, I failed to see progress as clearly as I would prefer.

Why did I fail to see this progress? Why is progress important?

More to come.

short posts

2006-09-05T08:58:00.000-05:00

I've decided that some things have to change.

For starters, I must write more on this blog. Looking through some of the comments I've received via email and here, I realize that I have gifted and wonderful friends that are ready and willing to help me do good. If I can continue to put my thoughts, observations, and ideas here, I will surely tap into a most wonderful database of experience.

So, how will I go about doing this? First, I think I will try to write simple, short posts. In the past I would get bogged down by trying to write about a week's worth of experiences. I don't have the technical ability to write a brief and encompassing post... not yet.

So I will keep it short and simple: The goal for today is to organize my notes for the past two months. I expect to finish by Thursday at the latest. You'll hear from me then.

Ciao,

C

the story of kleider

2006-09-04T07:39:00.000-05:00

Kleider was born with cleft palette and lip.

Before landing in Lima, I had read about this handsome fellow and his ordeal. As baby, Kleider could not breast feed due to his condition. SES staff and volunteers discovered the dying baby and rehabiliated him by daily spoon feeding a puree of enriched crackers and milk. Over time, he recovered and received surgery for his palette condition.

Kleider is hearing impaired. With the help of kind folk here and there, he was admitted to a special school capable of meeting his needs. Kleider's older brother, Elquin, would serve as escort on the long bus rides to the school and back. Unfortunately, a new addition to the family changed roles within it and Kleider was left sans escort and sans special school.

We are working on finding funding to purchase a hearing aid for the young chap. Also, we are in conversation with the school to reinstate Kleider. Perhaps I will be his new and willing escort.

anjuli's visit

2006-09-04T07:37:00.000-05:00

Anjuli is one of the progenitors of Salud Infantil volunteers. She is pictured here sharing greetings with Ruth.

In brief time, I caught a glimpse of the energy and love that got this program off the ground. Contagious it is!

today's work

2006-09-03T22:31:00.000-05:00

Yes, Sunday it is but no matter, time to work.

I was out of commission most of this week due to a nasty bowel problem. On Wednesday afternoon, in celebration of Santa Rosa de Quibes, I ate a baby goat. That night, the goat's mother cursed my stomach and intestines.

Given I was removed from office for two days, I decided to make up time and work today. The taxi oblidged and soon I was in San Gabriel. My purpose: to invite parents to a meeting next Sunday night. The theme would be the current status of the educational workshop and some new goals.

Status: Three times a week, twice a day, there is one educational workshop, called "taller educativo." On average, 30 children ranging from 6 to 12 years of age, enter the concrete building known as "Thomas y Lois." The punctual ones arrive before 3:00p.m. The majority shuffle in thereabouts, and the few gifted with a different sense of time, arrive at 4p.m. The staff consists of me, a teacher named Luzmila, and a number of youth mentors, ranging from 13 to 22 years of age and known as "promotores." The number of promotores on average fails to exceed 3. We try to set up early. Five long white tables accompanied by 6 tiny chairs are neatly ordered like the blank sides of domninos in a domino box.

The children live in the surrounding communities of San Gabriel, Santa Rosa, 28 de Julio, etc. After a short morning of school, they lunch (although, unfortunately, I hear this is a myth in some households) and walk to the taller with notebooks and pencils in hand. The children attend different grades, and have different teachers. Most attend Ciro Alegria, a government school at the base of the mountain.

The task on most days is to help with homework. The time from 3:00p.m. until 5:00p.m. is spent working with about 5 or 6 kids at a time, trying to provide each with the direction needed to complete their assignments.

It is difficult work.

Some new goals: On Sunday, September 10th, we will inform parents of this work. We will try to make the argument that we must shift away from working on completing homework. In light of that necessary evil, we will hope to use this time and space to go beyond repetative excercises and uninspiring problems. We hope to focus on outfiting our children with the skills necessary to complete the majority of homework on their own.

The dogs are calm on Sunday and remain silent as I climb the dirt, rocks, and yellow concrete stairs to knock on doors. One by one, I approach folk, gracing them with our invitation and emphasizing that beverages will be served.

I got lunch out of it, spaghetti with veins surrounded by meat, and some promises of attendance.

chocas pre-dawn

2006-09-03T09:31:00.000-05:00

It is before 6a.m. in Chocas, a rural area in Carabayllo. Alicia, pictured here, walks in cold to her home, where we will rest after a long night of dancing and fire-making.

the story of 5 pairs

2006-09-01T23:30:00.000-05:00

In front is Mitchell and behind is Sebastian. Both are brothers and this shot is staged.

I believe Sebastian was born with his eyes crossed. The condition was permanent until corrective surgery was administered. Since the operation, efforts have been made to prevent a return to the original state. Sebastian has been handed prescription glasses and an eye patch to wear daily. The glasses are to aid his poor vision and the patch to rest an eye or two eager to cross.

Since my arrival here two months ago, I have only seen Sebastian wearing his awful glasses once. It was during a visit to his home after Alicia, the social worker, reminded his mother of convalescence by way of daily doses of glasses and eye patch.

Over time, Sebastian has had five pairs of glasses donated to him by various charitable organizations. Four pairs have failed to convince him that their rightful place is his face (who knows how many eye patches have failed in the same way?). They are lost somwhere in Peru. The current unconvincing pair, with its inch-thick lenses, and colorless frames, fears the same fate.

And so, Sebastian continues to roam the streets of San Gabriel two-eyed and patch less. I can see his eyes are preparing to cross.

i am reading

2006-09-01T23:23:00.000-05:00

I am reading Günter Grass and it will mess with my head. Often under the influence of passages from The Tin Drum I wish to write from the point of view of a willed midget, committed to insane asylum. That would be the mask I could use to let it all out...perhaps I should start another blog.

domingo

2006-08-20T14:12:00.000-05:00

I noticed today that my left eye is queer, my scalp dry, and fingers crooked. And more: my right eye is fair, my scalp covered with curls, and the crooks of my fingers are character, each digit fitting nicely into the other.

Sweeping brings comfort. The sound of the broom hairs on the laminate floor soothes. I swerve left then right, to my dominant side, take a right then left step back, and swerve again. This continues for some time, depending on the dimensions of the room. My own personal Zen garden.

Dust becomes dirt gathered to form Nazca lines, less intricate but as mysterious in origin. Where did all this dirt come from? I just swept two days before.

I enjoy hunting mosquitos but realize that they are not in season. So I continue to sweep.

These are the thoughts this morning and I am good.

past work/present work

2006-08-16T08:30:00.000-05:00

Here I bring up the past.

Positive/Negative

2006-08-16T06:41:00.000-05:00

All,

It has been brought to my attention that I have a talent for the negative.

Yes, it is true reader, I am wont to focus on the dark or disturbing, dwell on it, until any sign of positive is gone. But what will you have me do? Lima is disturbing. I will meet you half way, and stop dwelling.

I was called here to do a job.

In keeping with that, I have decided that now is a time to ask questions and listen for answers. This technique has led me to learn the lay of the land, careful not to jump to conclusions.

More to come.

More details

2006-08-15T00:17:00.000-05:00

All,

I need to provide more details:

I spend most of my time trying to maneuver the chaos of the "taller educativo," our educational workshop. Each week, our small team has played host to an average of 30 children ranging from age 6 to 12, four afternoons a week. Each afternoon we spend two hours spreading the love between five tables of children, all seeking help with their homework.

Something is always off. It is not the poverty, the lack of personal hygiene, the incessant noise, or the educational deficiencies. Something deeper?

I find a system that has been set up to relieve the burden of responsibility from teachers, parents, and students. In the classroom, teachers fail to teach but conspire to assign massive amounts of homework to prove they are "teaching." Parents, some unable to read or write, find comfort in our presence and have faith in our abilities to make sure their children "finish" their homework. Students, keenly aware of our naive generosity, demand "help" with their homework without so much as lifting a finger to help themselves.

But really, there is no need to point fingers... for too long.

Form follows function. We must define our function. This is the goal of the week.

Our program must be sustainable, must address the needs of the poor, and must be wary of decay that is the product of complacency and irrelevance. We will aim to equip the children of San Gabriel, Santa Rosa, 28 de Julio, with the tools to forge a new future. What that means exactly, I'm not too sure.

Any ideas?

movies

2006-08-10T19:09:00.000-05:00

I continue to read movie reviews by the New York Times and noticed the measured yet heartfelt appraisal of World Trade Center (awful title).

It's amazing that we Americans have the privilege of having this sad story told on the big screen, regardless of the quality of Mr. Stone's work.

It's a shame that Peruvians do not have the priviledge of having their sad story told on the big screen. Perhaps it's for the best... Nicholas Cage would make an awful stand in for our character.

And then you see in large print that the itinerant bombers were foiled and other folk delayed and 35 blown to bits in Iraq.

un mes

2006-08-09T22:39:00.000-05:00

There is so much to say...

First of all, I must thank you all for helping me come here. If you have followed this blog, you've noticed the tendancies toward the negative. It is time to write of all else and the things found here that I lacked back home.

Shall we begin with some confessions?

Here I wear familiar green khakis paired with a similarly colored fleece stolen from an old college friend. Everyday a different T-shirt donned underneath and some sneakers when there is field work to be done. I have learned to leave the $330 Mephisto walking shoes at home on most days for fear of damaging their soft leather in dusty Carabayllo. In my pocket, a copy of my passport and no more than S/. 10 in coin.

I live with two other volunteers, Collin and Chloë, in a posh apartment in a posh neighborhood. We have 3 1/2 bothrooms to share between us, leather couches and wordly cable on a decent sized flat-screen television. I sleep in a decent twin bed, the bottom bunk of a half-empty bunk bed. The sheets and towels are changed weekly and we find fresh fruit bounty in the kitchen and dinner in tupperware stored in the fridge.

In this context, at 7a.m. daily, I am driven in a van to plough through outbound Lima traffic until I arrive at the office at about 8a.m.

My entry into the district of Carabayllo is always welcomed by a large and dirty sign reading: "Bienvenidos a Carabayllo: Distrito Histórico y Ecológico." Carabayllo is 184 years old and one of the first settlements in colonial Perú. That hidden fact vouches for the "Histórico" portion of the sign. Supposedly, at some earlier point in time, the valleys of Carabayllo were littered with green. People here farmed land and those from outside noticed its green. Little now in the landscape I know vouches for "Ecológico."

I work in Salud Infantil, Child Health. My position has not crystallized yet but I'm beginning to carve my own way. I help solve quadratic equations and tell stories to 6-18 year olds. I also walk though the dirt in San Gabriel and 28 de Julio, two settlements that did not exist 15 years ago, and visit the sick.

In my first week, I freaked at the prospect of having to teach kids everyday and was fascinated when meeting a woman on her bed, legs bloated with water, face gaunt with death. That strange feeling persists now.

This is the place I longed to be. I may not be able to teach Valeria how to solve for x or to save Karina's life, but I can most certainly try. I have much help from the folks down here and I can learn from many others who've come before: Danny, Katie, Melissa, Fiona, Francisco, Anjuli, Sonya and Paul. And of course I have all of you: Elaine, Mimi, Pekok, Nunu, the boys and the girls.

Stay tuned for more....

mototaxis

2006-08-08T12:32:00.000-05:00

A mototaxi painted Richard Sachs colors speeds down avenida Merino Reyna at 15 mph. I ride one of these converted motorcycles up and down the bumpy roads off avenida Tupac Amaru leading into San Gabriel.

a beautiful day

2006-08-07T22:08:00.000-05:00

This was the dusk for a beautiful day... I survived one month.

stefan hat recht

2006-08-06T10:39:00.000-05:00

From Stefan:

Ich have gerada deinen Blog wieder besucht. Zuerst habe ich geadacht, daß du da nicht viel schreiben wirst (so ist es bei den meisten Blogs), aber ich habe gemerkt daß du ja jede Menge Neuigkeiten in deinem Blog veröffentlichst.

Ich bewundere deine Arbeit, ich kann mir sehr gut vorstellen, daß es ganz schön hard sein kann! Ich hoffe, daß du nicht nur die negativen Seiten siehst. Manchmal habe ich diesen Eindruck. Vielleicht verarbeitest du aber auch einfach manchmal deine Frustration in deinem Blog, und das ist ja gut so. Solange du nicht den ganzen Tag depressive Gendanken hast.

....

So keep up the good work, don't let it take you down too much and look at the bright side, too!

Viele Grüße aus Detschland, tschüß und bis bald,

Stefan

step back

2006-08-04T12:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was a hard day. I've decided to take a step back and spend the morning in the apartment in San Borja, woking on this blog and avoiding my frustrations.

I am here because I was inspired to come. However, this motivation comes undone with frequency. It is not the poverty, disease, dirt, grey, cold, or incompetance that wears me down.

It is the realization that I am ill-equipped to make change. I console my anxieties by believing that I have yet to hit my stride.

Our goal is interesting. In plain language: to help poor children of the shantytowns of Carabayllo develop their academic, social, and physical health.

I've yet to figure out how to go about doing that.

so much more to say

2006-08-03T11:24:00.000-05:00

It's time to put some meat on the bone!

I escaped the educational workshop yesterday afternoon after my perfunctory goodbyes. As is customary, one child catches me and begs for something: a hug, a promise that I will return tommorrow, etc. I compromise and carry Evelina along for two meters before putting her down, dusting off, and shaking hands with Hitler, the driver waiting to take me back home.

I climb up the dirt and rocks to reach the car parked on the collection of dirt above us. I misstep and falter, slipping down the hill but still standing. I was ready to fall and unwilling to get back up.

Teaching is difficult, frustrating, draining and tragic. I fail to see an end to the challenge or feel the rewards of spending two hours trying to extract, cajole, inspire and force others to learn. I walk a fine line, between empathy and disdain.

another dream

2006-08-02T06:43:00.000-05:00

Last night I dreamt of Paul Farmer:

I walk up the outdoor stairway that leads to the second-story offices. I arrive late for a meeting that has begun to full capacity. Some are sitting, others standing, but all paying close attention to Dr. Farmer's instructions on how to use walnuts to "brush" teeth. He sits, lanky and laid back in the center of a circle of Peruvians, with a bowl of orange-golden walnuts. There is one open seat to Farmer's right and so I take it. Somebody asks him to show how to prepare these nuts to be used for "brushing". Ah, of course! Always ready to teach: "First, you toss the bowl to freshen and prep the nuts." He demonstrates and before the next step he takes a long wiff of walnuts by diving his pointy nose into the bowl. I interrupt the scene jokingly and confident: "Second, you stick your face in the bowl!" He breaks out in laughter and the rest is vauge.

I feared writing about dreams would be dangerous. Does this one reveal a hidden obsession with Farmer? Or perhaps a strange conception of alternative methods for oral hygiene? Does my poor account begin to describe the joy I felt under his guidance for this silly task?

I am here because of him. He was there because of me.

An introduction to Dr. Farmer here: Mountains Beyond Mountains

mangy dog

2006-08-01T23:44:00.000-05:00

Mangy dogs are everywhere in the settlements. This one I'm particularly fond of, seeing that it is by far the mangiest of the lot. Notice the skin around the snout and the missing patches of hair in the coat. No one pets him.

cavities

2006-08-01T23:39:00.000-05:00

Evelina has a beautiful smile that suffers from wicked cavities.

Check out the damage:

us three

2006-08-01T23:31:00.000-05:00

Good times at the old "taller."

jose through window

2006-08-01T23:25:00.000-05:00

Jose, in yellow, is a kind and timid kid and plays a mean game of marbles.

the look

2006-08-01T23:20:00.000-05:00

Carolina and Ronald playing a game of set.

putting it together

2006-08-01T23:16:00.000-05:00

Jonathan and company putting words together from syllables.

math bingo

2006-08-01T23:09:00.000-05:00

Math Bingo!

dream

2006-08-01T23:03:00.000-05:00

I dreamt last night that I tossed kids out in the street. This is a reenactment. No child was intentionally hurt.

las chicas

2006-08-01T22:28:00.000-05:00

Evelina y Jazmin.

at dusk

2006-08-01T13:47:00.000-05:00

The settlement of San Gabriel at dusk... electricity to power the TV.

more carabayllo

2006-08-01T13:08:00.000-05:00

This is another shot of the communities that we aim to serve.... off in the grey distance is Lima Ciudad.

a tiny parade for independance

2006-07-28T13:37:00.000-05:00

Yes, July 28th was Peruvian Independance Day... these little ones in the top left-hand corner are doing their best to march patriotically.

frustration

2006-07-26T23:07:00.000-05:00

Today I spent two hours trying to teach Julie (a different one) the concept of decimal places. I used drawings, stories, marbles, numbers, water bottles, etc., but failed. Frustration. I almost lost my patience and yelled at the kid: "Don't you get it, for the 50th time..."

What the hell are these kids learning in school?

Lizette, Tamara, Mr. Beder, Evan, how do you do it?

our problems

2006-07-26T12:24:00.000-05:00

Here's a quick note:

Close to 100% of our kids have cavities
Close to 100% of our kids suffer from chronic malnutrition

And wait 'til you hear about academic problems (reading, writing, mathematics).

Extreme poverty is a bitch...

dry urine stinks

2006-07-26T09:07:00.000-05:00

Some of the children in our workshop come to learn stinking of dry urine. I want to cringe, step back, yell but choose instead to bide my time.

All our children suffer from extreme poverty and some from extreme lack of hygiene. Something must be done, cultural relativism aside.

Any ideas?

Juan Carlos, Gilean, Chayo y Luzero

2006-07-25T09:54:00.000-05:00

This is Chayo (purple pants) and her siblings Juan Carlos, Gilean, and Luzero... more on them in a bit.

another week begins

2006-07-24T15:02:00.000-05:00

The third week begins. The long hours and grey weather are combining to make the time pass by quickly. I apologize for not writing much here for there is much to tell. Soon I'll be calling on you to help me in this endevour... more to come.

kids watching

2006-07-22T13:43:00.000-05:00

We had a small show in the "taller." Kids love to watch.

Yuly, Jefferson, Evelina y perro

2006-07-22T09:48:00.000-05:00

It's hard to take candid pictures of kids... they love to pose for the camera. This is as close as I could get today.

Yuly, the girl in the blue sweater, suffers from hyperthyroidism. She is 10 years old but is barely taller than 6 year old Evelina on her left. Evelina is made of tiny features, sufferening from chronic malnutrition and with some serious dental problems.

The dog is infested with fleas, vicious ones.

Jefferson is chill.

28 de Julio

2006-07-22T09:30:00.000-05:00

This is a quick look at community of 28th of July. The children we work with are plucked from the surrounding communities.

the details

2006-07-21T09:16:00.000-05:00

So the question is: what is going on?

As you all know I'm here as a volunteer, working specifically with kids from communities in Carabayllo, in the northern section of Lima, Peru.

I arrived on July 8th but refrained from posting about those early and unhappy days. Now I feel a short introduction is needed to fashion place and time.

Place:
I would prefer not to live in Lima. Like many of the residents here "me toca." The city in winter is not welcoming. Skyes are perpetually grey and the air is like cold mud, a mixture of humidity and terrible smog. Of course, I must confess that I have not had time to get to know Lima. I spend my mornings and evenings in commute, 60 minutes to and from the work site via highway. Once I reach my point of destination, be it the office where the magic happens or what I call presently home, I am exhausted and coughing, not interesting in learning my surroundings.

Carabayllo is where I work and deserves a more thorough write-up. That's next.

Time:
I live one hour ealier than those in New York. However, the time here is not so easily defined. For example, the community of San Gabriel exists partially in the past: there is no running water here, no plumbing, no roads. Among this backwardness we have the artifacts of the present: electricity, cell phones, television, and internet cafes.

That is all for now.

San Grabriel

2006-07-21T08:58:00.000-05:00

There it is, the community of San Gabriel in Carabayllo.

Bienvenidos a Carabayllo: Distrito Histórico y Ecológico

2006-07-17T21:22:00.000-05:00

Here I am, cold and unprepared to begin the work ahead. This blog will serve today as depository of thoughts, impressions and other emotions evoked by the reality of Carabayllo, its inhabitants, my coworkers, and my mission.

In time forth this will serve as a reminder that I tried to do good, my own foolish way.

Stay tuned.

why is this here?

2006-07-08T14:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends,

"We must become the change we want to see in the world."
Mahatma Gandhi

On July 8th, I depart New York and leave you and all that is familiar to volunteer in the slums of Lima, Peru. I will be spending the next 12 months teaching children reading, mathematics, swimming, and music as well as helping to research, design and implement plans for a children's museum. My efforts join the admirable work of Partners In Health (PIH), a non-profit organization committed to fighting disease in impoverished settings. I call for your financial support to help me realize this important work.

Every year, millions die of diseases that are treatable and in most cases curable. Poverty is the great ailment here as it denies many in this world access to adequate healthcare and related services. Partnerts In Health is committed to treating the poor and removing the economic and social obstacles at the root of disease. Their community-based model provides excellent medical care, training, education, and social services to high-risk communities. In the face of severe poverty and social inequity, PIH prevails, and so do its patients.

I have been granted the opportunity to join PIH by offering my skills, time and energy to their Child Health Program. I am passionate about health, education, and children and am a perfect candidate for this position. More importantly, I am confident that I will shine and make a positive impact on the daily lives of those around me. Your financial support is necessary because it places me in direct contact with those who need help the most.

As a non-paid volunteer, I will need your help to cover the costs of living in Peru for one year. PIH will provide housing and two meals six days a week. However, the combined cost of airfare, medical insurance, and daily expenses amounts to nearly $4000. Although I have done my best and saved $800, I will not be able to cover the remaining expenses without your help. In making a financial donation consider the following:

A $200 donation covers living expenses for an entire month. If twelve of you choose to donate this amount, you will guarantee that I will be able to make an impact for the entire year.
A $100 donation covers a decent portion of my travel expenses. If ten of you choose to donate this amount, you will make sure I get there and come back.
A $50 donation covers health insurance costs. If twelve of you can donate this amount you help me remain healthy and able.
A $20 donation covers two to three days of food and living expenses. If ten of you donate at this level, I will have the financial support for a month of good deeds.

By making it possible for me to volunteer, you support the fight against povery, disease, and inequity. Your contribution pledges solidarity with fellow activists and all those who suffer.

Please contact me at carlos.carter@gmail.com if you are interested in making a donation or have questions regarding this work.

I am most grateful for your support and leave New York confident that I will return having become "the change we want to see in the world."

Yours,

Carlos

P.S.
Spread the word!