Il diluvio

The rains have started. The roads, split open for pipe work, turn to rivers, the temperature drops, the peak of Chicon slips out of sight. My dusty feet are finally clean.

The last three weeks have been so hectic, a whirlwind of events, that I'm only just now catching my breath. The main thing that happened was that Ada, the director of the hogar, got quite sick and had to go to the hospital. During the week she was there, they diagnosed her with everything from terminal cancer to kidney stones, so she decided to go to Milan, where she is being examined by Pietro's father and housed by Manu's parents. We're all so relieved she's being taken care of properly, but we're still awaiting the results, which adds quite a bit of tension to daily life here. Apart from these obvious worries, it's strange not having her here, for the children but also for me. I loved being able to talk to her about the kids, about her life, about what it means to be a gringa doing what she is doing in Peru. Our conversations always resonanted deeply for me. I miss having a strong, older female presence around.

Luckily, speaking of females, the new Italian girl that just arrived, Elisa, is fantastic. Good thing too, as she's staying for six months. Sophia is off traveling at the moment, and I hadn't realized, before, how much I counted on having her around. Should be fun when all three of us are here in January. We might even outnumber the boys for a few days!

Another change is that Mario is back. He's a roman who started up the Italian cooking workshop and bakery last year; Pietro took over from him for a few months. Now, Mario is back in charge-- and how great to hear romanaccio barked from the kitchen! He also plays the sax, and we've jammed together a few times. When I get back in January, he's going to take me to the places he used to play at, a club in Cusco and my favorite restaurant here in Urubamba. We also have grand plans to start up a music workshop in January, during the kids' summer holidays, but there might not be enough time. They're already going to have workshops in English (run by me), computers, theatre, ceramics... So I don't know. I may try to set up private lessons, though, as quite a few of the kids have already asked me to teach them guitar, flute and singing.

There is another idea, though, that might be even more interesting. Elisa, who's studied psychology, is on board. We want to do more with sex ed, and we want to start at an earlier age. In the past few weeks, I've had to confront issues of genital hygiene, puberty, sex... It all started when Princesa, one of the dogs, got VD and spread it all around the neighborhood (dogs). Unfortunately, what she has is contagious for humans as well. Ew. So we told the kids not to touch the dogs and to wash their hands, but, the next day, the youngest girl came to me with itching and burning. Oh SHIT. That night, she had to go home, so I went with her and talked to her mother about vaginal cleanliness and the like. (My Spanish vocabulary skyrocketed in a matter of hours.) I said, "please don't put vinegar on it," because I know that's a common remedy. "Ok," she said, and put breast milk on it instead. But, you know what, that may have worked, as the next day all was well.
A few days later, though, another girl had the same problem, after spending the night at her house. I know that, when she's at home, she doesn't bathe or change clothes... nothing serious, but all this got me thinking...

And there's more: I've had to explain some pretty basic ground rules of menstruation to one of the older girls, even though she started a year ago. This turned into a long conversation about sex, as I wanted to know what her friends say (and do). She had lots of questions, about everything from the mechanics of it to AIDS. "How do you know when someone has AIDS?" she asked. For instance. It made me wonder when she would have gotten answers, if we hadn't happened to have that conversation. I also found out that the two older boys got a condom demonstration at the hogar, but the girls no. Well, obviously that set me off, talking this poor girl's ear off about sexual power balance and, yes, even microbicides.

In view of all this, Elisa and I want to work more with these issues, starting at an early age. Thanks to Bank Street, I knew all about wet dreams and periods at age 8! I know that Ada has already worked a bit with these issues, but, from what I've witnessed, there's more to be done. I can't imagine what it's like to hit puberty in an hogar of 13 kids, without any privacy. Furthermore, the clock is ticking, and, before long, they will be out in the world. It's imperative that, when that time comes, they have a healthy awareness of their bodies and a good understanding of the changes they're undergoing. Especially the girls. Dear God, especially the girls. (Although, actually, if these boys leave the hogar armed with condoms and a respect for women, that wouldn't be half bad.)

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I leave in a week. It is so strange, imagining waking up to anything but mountains and mate and runny nosed children. At the same time, I need a break; the last few weeks have exhausted me. Yesterday, I had to yell at Rodrigo, which made him cry, which made me cry, of course. "I'm losing my marbles," I thought, which made me laugh. Which made him confused. That crazy volunteer with the crazy hair, and where is she from anyway?
Anyway, I'm really looking forward to Brazil, but I am dreading going back to New York. The rush, the stress, the fast talk... I'm not sure I can take it. At least I have January to look forward to... I can't wait to come back here, refreshed (maybe- I've calculated 40 hours of plane travel in the next two months), and get back into it.

Love to all.

a glimpse!

mototaxi by the river


the garden and the view from Ada's office


el valle sagrado... with the taller de teatro on the left

from behind my house

same view, at night

yulissa and me at a park in cusco

same park, with yulissa's older brother, deiner

ignacio, always photogenic

some of the kids plus simone in cusco

javier, at home

edgar and simone

all the volunteers plus ada

one day, we stripped wood

pisco sours

what we do at night. to the right, the bathroom. to the left, the kitchen.

francesco and princesa

river view in pisac

sophia in the pisac toilet

simone and me at the market in chinchero