February 2006

Houston, we have a problem…

…was the subject line of the email Paul sent out yesterday morning. At 6am, all was fine. When Paul came back a little later after making breakfast, his computer had died. Not a good thing for a full-time telecommuter. It would take several days to re-create his full development environment on my computer, but he has been able to download enough stuff (taking up most of his work-day on Monday with non-chargeable hours) to be productive today. He thinks that most of what he lost was not work related and will be able to salvage fragments of other things (like our Quicken data) once we’re back in the States. We contemplated trying to change our tickets to get home a day or two sooner, but decided against it due to logistics and cost. It’s changed the dynamics of our going home a bit and means we’ll probably drop decent dough on two machines for Paul before coming back. It also means limited updates on coldspaghetti while my beloved workhorse of a machine plays pinch-hitter. Talk about an “oh shit!” sort of day!

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Pachacutec

I spent a wonderful day on Friday in Pachacutec with Barbara, a nun serving with Medical Mission Sisters. Barbara is an absolute delight; I feel a great kinship with her and adored our day together. I cannot imagine a better attache into the community!

About Pachacutec…. Pachacutec is a very new “pueblo joven” to the north of Lima. It is technically in Callao (the location of the Lima airport, also called the Lima-Callao airport) and rests along the dry coastal land on the edge of the Pacific. The Garcia administration set aside this area as a “special project” in 1988. By 1992, 9,000 lots had been auctioned. Approximately 2,000 additional settlers made informal occupation (called “invasion” around these parts), mostly related to internal migration of refugees affected by the terrucos. Development was slow due to lack of basic services (no water, sewage, or electricity) and distance from major roads.

Then in 2000, Fujimori ordered a relocation of some 7000+ “invading” families from Villa El Salvador (an older, more established pueblo joven in the southern extreme of Lima) to Pachacutec. For the first six months, the government assisted with necessities (food, water, blankets, trash collection, straw mats used as building materials for shelters, etc.) and then NGOs took over in these aids and began to support the formation of community organizations.

Today, 70% community has electricity. There is no water or sewage. Large trash buckets (usually the color blue) sit outside of most houses (or on top of more newly constructed, concrete houses) and are filled up daily by a hose extending from a water truck. No phone lines; I’m not sure if my cell functioned but for some reason I feel confident it probably did. The majority of the buildings are made from straw mats or plywood. About a third have cement floors. Few have latrines; most of the community utilize septic tanks. Several preschools, primary schools and clinics dot the community with others currently in construction.
Churches of several denominations also exist (Catholic and evangelical, from what I understood.) In short, it is a population living in poverty and extreme poverty. It is also one of the most fantastic communities I have visited here in Peru.

Barbara and I road the purple bus to Pachacutec for about an hour from her current home in Callao (about a 30-40 minute ride from our house in Miraflores). We road up the coast, past the oil refineries and manufacturing plants that line industrial Callao’s shore. A highlight of the ride: the young man with painted red nose and oversized, brightly colored pants who hopped on the bus, told jokes, and passed around a bag of chocolates (for a fee) which he claimed “cured diabetes.” He received some genuine laughter from the crowded bus and I was impressed at the level of respect and patronage he got from the passangers. How enterprising! The last few miles of our trip were on unpaved roads, through a small wetland preserve and into the dry, sandy hills that look out to the Pacific.

We had lunch in a comedor popular, a community kitchen, staffed by community members who sell hot lunches at reduced cost to members (mostly children and adolescents). I took the opportunity to talk some with a few residents; although I wish I had done more of this. While people were at first leary of me in appearance (I’m a pregnant gringa) the moment I began to show interest they lit right up to me with friendly faces and words. From there, we went into one of the local sectore markets (one market per sector) complete with a station, equipped with megaphone perched high overhead, for making announcements and playing music. A few steps into the wonderful market, Barbara ran into a friend, Sr. Gonzales, who was the former system announcer! (Word on the street is that he was replaced due to age.) The Sr. was so warm, friendly, and charismatic. We talked about the election (he’s supporting Lourdes — and Crisco, he loves the current Chilean top dog), politics, and the community. Barbara and I agreed that he should run for local political office.

After our market chat, we headed over to one of the clinics, where we ran into several people who run anti-violence training programs in the community (a very lucky situation!) We spent awhile chatting, the staff welcomed my use of the ladies’ room, and we enjoyed a few minutes out of the scorching sun. As with other communities in Lima, respiratory illness is a major, major problem in Pachacutec, as well as skin diseases, chronic diarrheas, and other GI problems. (Given the conditions… sand dunes, lack of water and sewage, high humidity, and poor ventilation — there is not much a health center can do but provide bandaids to ease the symptoms of the diseases of poverty.) Our final stop was to the large MIMDES (Ministry of Women and Social Development) office. We met with Sonya, the community violence prevention coordinator, and her staff. Brilliant folk — including one energetic woman who sold us a few cans of homemade beans before taking off to another meeting. (Funny moment: the beans came up during an interesting conversation segway and I actually thought that she was selling the cans as armas to carry for protection. Big laugh.)

Out of all the communities I’ve visited, this one by far felt the best. I loved the people, loved being there, and honestly cannot wait to return. It was a great day — exhausting and fulfilling!

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Moments with the Monkey and the Wombat

Be sure to check out Paul’s blog for pictures he’s been promising. Including some fun stuff with Will and home improvement, Wombat-style. (Remember that treacherous perch hanging the shutters last spring? This one raised the bar a bit!)

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For inspiration and understanding

In high school we were forced to read Hemingway. I hated it. I thought (and still think) that he is a misogynist, somewhat trite author, and a bit of a bore (although I’ll give him a little redemption for Old Man and the Sea). However, a poem in the forward to one of his books struck me. For years it was plastered to my bedroom wall, showing up in Grandma Betty’s and following me to my college dorm. Somewhere along the way, the paper and the poem disappeared, and honestly, I had not thought about it in years.

I came across it yesterday and immediately copied it in my notebook. Looking back to it, I can’t help but think that these words had somehow sunk into my subconscious, subtly shaping my thoughts and experiences over the years. If someone asks for a reason I am in my chosen field, or the why for where my passions lie, I think that these words sum up the answer better than anything I could muster…

No man is an island,
entire of itself;
everyman is a piece of the Continent,
A part of the Main;
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in Mankind;
and therefore never send to know
for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

John Donne, Devotions, XVII

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Back to reality

This time next week, we’ll be back in the States. I’ve been mum so far on our State-side situation, letting Paul take the reign on discussion of our thoughts and conflicts. Reading about what is going on back home is sickening enough… I haven’t been able to stomach the thought of taking the next step and writing about it.

The bottom line is that we don’t have a clue what we are going to do when we get back — the choices eat away at us daily. Katrina changed our worlds drastically, even if those outside of it seem completely unable to comprehend the level of destruction and chaos that fills the lives of Gulf Coast residents — most especially those in Southeast Louisiana. We feel both the draw of going back to a city and home we love and the pull of leaving, because unlike so many others, we actually can. The choice is not one we take lightly or one that can be easily understood.

What hurts the most is the continued play of politics at all levels at the expense of the people of New Orleans and Southeast Louisiana. A consolidated levee board is the right thing to do (do we really need another committee to be formed to help the levee committees work together?) yet long-standing tradition, politics, and stubborness halt any change. Blanco, finally showing some backbone, called a special session for Louisiana’s elected officials in New Orleans (rather than Baton Rouge), which began with a bus tour of the city. Many Louisiana officials have yet to see the devistation in the city. As those who know say over and over again, you absolutely cannot even begin to fathom the vastness and terror of the destruction until you have seen it. Some of the responses from officials who took the tour:

Rep. Jean Doerge, D-Minden, who was on her first trip to the area, said she was amazed at the extent of damage. “This is an eye-opener to what we are really facing,” she said. The bus tour “has had an effect on me. . . .I know better what we are up against. It is absolutely unbelievable. You look out here and say it’s been five months and you still see devastation.”

Rep. Donald Cazayoux, D-New Roads, who has made a few trips to the area, most recently in November, called the lack of progress in clearing debris “incredible. I was expecting some movement. It is just so vast. It is a disaster and we need to see it. I think we need to come every three months. There is no change at all.”

Rep. Monica Walker, D-Hessmer, who had toured the area earlier, said that based on what she saw Monday, “it doesn’t look like anything is getting done. This (tour) helps the cause. I don’t think that we are the ones who need convincing.” Walker said more members of Congress and the Bush administration should be on the buses.

All true and poignant thoughts. What is most sobering and painful is that out of Louisiana’s 39 State Senators, only 23 of them took part in the bus tour. To pull from a wonderful Times-Picayune editorial:

“…Gov. Kathleen Blanco had good reason to ask lawmakers to take a bus tour of the metro area Monday to kick off the special legislative session. Legislators are going to be considering bills crucial to the recovery and long-term security of greater New Orleans. They all need to understand the urgency of these matters, and seeing how much is left to do five months after the storm would drive the point home.

Unfortunately, a significant number of lawmakers declined the governor’s invitation. Fewer than half of House and Senate members took the tour.”

How can anyone take any position on the situation in New Orleans without seeing it first hand? In my opinion, they cannot. Choosing not to see it is a strategic political move because it allows continued ignorance of the situation. Seeing the situation would mean accepting responsibility, feeling shame of lack of response, and having to make a commitment to work towards a solution. Ignoring the situation or belittling it (ahem, State of the Union) allows for politics as usual.

The Bush administration rants on and on about the monies it has allocated to Gulf States… but just who is getting the funds? Although Louisiana suffered well over 75% of the housing damage from Katrina and Rita, saw ten times more businesses destroyed, experienced five times more jobs losses, weathered more than 75% of the total property and infrastructure damage, the State is receiving only 54% of the block grant funding. Further, many of the complaints lodged against Louisiana (and New Orleans, in particular), given as excuses as to why the area is getting shafted for relief attention, are false.

But who can fight with a government that rules without law and reason?

Long-standing dreams and goals for both Paul and I are what drive us to live abroad in these coming years of our lives. But the on-going decay of our country and government makes it harder to justify why we would fight to return.

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Will’s Secret Playdays Revealed!

Josefina brought us a CD of pictures of Will and friends over the past few days. Jude (mother to 3-year old Adam) acted as photographer (thanks — what a nice gesture!) Now we have an idea of the kinds of things Will’s been up to during the last 3 days!

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Will’s first tattoo!

The bad news: it doesn’t say “Mom.”
The good news: it is removable, but waterproof. Will is very aware of it’s waterproof status; he’s been pointing to it constantly after his shower tonight saying, “waterproof!”

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Hump Day Fun

Today’s events:
– Looking into why the dryer broke yesterday and finding that the non-vented lint was being sucked back up into the machine, jamming the motor, and clogging the heating element (“what is that burning smell?”) We managed to fix it (clean it out) but may have the headache of negotiating repair folks for our last week here to install some type of venting.
– Looking into why the doorbell no longer works. (We can fix it but think that the owner may prefer his electrician do it, which is fine, but again: one week left.)
– My cell phone dying, twice, in the middle of Paul trying to order a pizza. We figured out the credits were out, I went across the street and bought a 20 sole card, only to have the security digits rip off making it impossible to decipher two of the code numbers.
– The home phone not working (started last night) which, thankfully, due to the help of Jim Rudolph (the afore mentioned history professor/Lima contact extraordinaire) was working in time for us to call back the pizza place and finish our order. Will enjoyed watching the fix-it man up the telephone pole, listing back and forth while I held my breath.
– Sugar ants discovered that the lid wasn’t completely sealed on the cookie container. Have I mentioned that the number one reason I’m pressing for an apartment when we move back is because I *hate* sugar ants??
– Will being gone all day on a playdate (we missed him!) and coming home with his first tattoo.

The rest of the week:
– Class tomorrow morning for me, then an appointment at PRISMA to turn over an interview tape for transcription. Friday will be spent in Pachacutec, a fairly new pueblo joven on the far outskirts of Northern Lima — I’m going here with Barbara, the nun Gwen and I had breakfast with a few weeks ago. Saturday, we’ll have lunch at Jim’s in Chorrillos (a community south of here). Hopefully, we’ll be able to get together with Jude (who recommended Josefina and is here visiting and whose son Will is spending his days with lately) before we leave next week.


Here is Will, in bed and ready for “binky time” after his long day of hard and fast playtime. Posted by Picasa

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Playtime for Will

Will has a great time with Josefina. The general daily schedule is that when she arrives at 8, they leave for the park. Usually, she comes back with him around lunch time for food and a nap — although most days (and the easiest days) he falls asleep in the stroller on the way back to the house. While he sleeps, Josefina helps around the house (cleaning, cooking, laundry… whatever needs to be done) and generally Paul orI play or help out with Will after his naptime and do our best to make sure Josefina goes home around 5. (Note: she offers to stay late and even expected to stay until Will was in bed each day when she first came! We encourage her to rest each afternoon and go home at 5 to be with her family. She really exemplifies the hard-working ethics and attitudes of so many of the wonderful Peruvians we’ve encountered.)

The last few days, Will has been off visiting with the family that Josefina worked for prior to coming to us; they are back in the country for a visit. (Side note: we are completely enamored with this family — our conversations reflect similar ideologies, we both are vegetarian, etc., etc.) Today, Jude (free-lance journalist and general cool-mom extraordinare) called to check whether it was okay for Will and Josefina to join them into the afternoon. It ended up that Will spent the entire day with them! We didn’t see him until 6:30 this afternoon — I don’t think he missed us a bit. When folks remark on how independent, confident, and self-assured our kid us, we must admit — they aren’t kidding!!

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“What Mom? Can’t you see I’m busy here watering? Sheesh!” Posted by Picasa

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