I have jut a few moments before the internet is shut down in my hotel, but I wanted to share some thoughts from today...
We left Ayacucho at 7am, and drove up. Up. Up. Up. The first hour was on paved roads, but the last 2-1/2 were on bone-crushing, pock-marked, gutted and gullied pathways. We first arrived in Union Portrero, to the ABA Headquarters (an NGO partner of WFP), where we were greeted by round, leather-faced women, with braids down to their waist, wearing colorful, petticoated skirts, and mini bowler hats topped off with plumes of fresh flowers. Their children were slung on their backs, wrapped in colorful, hand-woven blankets.
After learning about ABA´s work through this region of the Andes, they held a formal welcoming ceremony for us, including corn, queso and potatoes, a gathering of musicians to play some music, and all of us taking to the floor to do the Andean two-step. And finally, we were presented with handmade bowler hats, also topped with flowers, which we were invited to wear for the rest of day, as we visited the communitites.
We arrived in Chakkicocha about 2 hours later, heads spinning from the altitude. A woman approached me, and said that the mountain gods play tricks on strangers to the mountains, which is why I wasn´t feeling well. She licked her finger, scraped the earth, and then ate the dirt, inviting me to do the same, so I would become friends with the mountain gods. What´s a girl to do? Peruvian dirt is rich and quite tasty.
Upon arriving in the village, a man smoking a ciggarette, who know I wasn´t feeling well, approached me, lifted up my hat, and blew smoke on my head, before replacing the bowler. ¨He is a friend of the mountain gods,¨ a woman told me ¨and he is giving you his energy so the mountain gods will recognize you.¨
The rest of the day was spent helping farm land, hoeing the dirt, and building terraces (there was no agriculture at this high altitude until about 8 years ago, with the help of ABA and WFP) and participating in agricultural rituals, asking the mountain gods for a fruitful season.
The skies literally opened upon us, drenching us with rain, and pelting us with hail. There was a sense of magic in the air...
We left Ayacucho at 7am, and drove up. Up. Up. Up. The first hour was on paved roads, but the last 2-1/2 were on bone-crushing, pock-marked, gutted and gullied pathways. We first arrived in Union Portrero, to the ABA Headquarters (an NGO partner of WFP), where we were greeted by round, leather-faced women, with braids down to their waist, wearing colorful, petticoated skirts, and mini bowler hats topped off with plumes of fresh flowers. Their children were slung on their backs, wrapped in colorful, hand-woven blankets.
After learning about ABA´s work through this region of the Andes, they held a formal welcoming ceremony for us, including corn, queso and potatoes, a gathering of musicians to play some music, and all of us taking to the floor to do the Andean two-step. And finally, we were presented with handmade bowler hats, also topped with flowers, which we were invited to wear for the rest of day, as we visited the communitites.
We arrived in Chakkicocha about 2 hours later, heads spinning from the altitude. A woman approached me, and said that the mountain gods play tricks on strangers to the mountains, which is why I wasn´t feeling well. She licked her finger, scraped the earth, and then ate the dirt, inviting me to do the same, so I would become friends with the mountain gods. What´s a girl to do? Peruvian dirt is rich and quite tasty.
Upon arriving in the village, a man smoking a ciggarette, who know I wasn´t feeling well, approached me, lifted up my hat, and blew smoke on my head, before replacing the bowler. ¨He is a friend of the mountain gods,¨ a woman told me ¨and he is giving you his energy so the mountain gods will recognize you.¨
The rest of the day was spent helping farm land, hoeing the dirt, and building terraces (there was no agriculture at this high altitude until about 8 years ago, with the help of ABA and WFP) and participating in agricultural rituals, asking the mountain gods for a fruitful season.
The skies literally opened upon us, drenching us with rain, and pelting us with hail. There was a sense of magic in the air...
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