Lost in Translation

This is most probably going to be the last entry to this blog, so I figured I should end with one of themany crazy stories I have...
Yesterday me, Erlinda (the de facto manager of Hearts Cafe and coordinator of our nutrition projects in the communities), and my friend Tuti (who is from Arequipa and was in Ollanta taking care of Luis' hostel) woke up before dawn to take off at 5am to go from Huarán, in the valley, up to Canchacancha at 4200m. We were supposed to meet a group of med students, who were one hour late and then all had to rush to the bathroom--great start for a 9km hike up 1000m!
Getting to Canchacancha was quite the ordeal: the horses that were supposed to carry the medicines didn't come (we later found out the owner had gotten druk and eventually showed up at 7), while waiting for a different horse Erlinda, Tuti and I started walking ahead of the van and when they reached us they didn't pick us up...so we walked all the way to Canchacancha thinking the med students were ahead of us, only to realise they had gotten stuck at one point where the road was blocked by trunks, and made it up to Canchacancha an hour and a half after us (with the token person with altitude sickness)--after Choquequirao this hike was a joke. ;)
The students then set up all their equipment to start visiting people, ony to realise that the people from the community speak only Quechua, the doctors spoke only English, and NO ONE spoke both English and Quechua...so for every patient there was a translator to Spanish, a translator to English, and a doctor. I bet the diagnosis were perfectly accurate...but to me it was actually surprising that people are as healthy as they are, given how hard their lives are.
In the end I'm taking about 10 people to a free clinic run by an American-Peruvian NGO here in the Valley.

This morning Sonia stressed me out one too many times, when it took me only 2 hours to make my point that I think it's only fair that if the women in Sacaca are doing lots of work to take care of tourist groups, they should be making some money from it. I eventually convinced her (with Erlinda's help), but when I made it to the internet cafe and realised I haven't gotten the interview I was hoping for in London, I decided I would be going back anyway. I bought my flight and I will be leaving Cusco on Friday, and reaching Torino or London (I still have to buy my last flight from Madrid) on Sunday. I will now stop dwelling on whether it was the right decision, as I bought the flight and there's no changing my mind. It's going to be a long trip, with a 12 hour lay-over in Mexico City--the temptation might be too great and I might just go for a tour...

Thank you to everyone who's ever read my blog, and thank you to everyone who listened to my endless phone and email monologues about my experiences here. And thank you to everyone I met here, who created my Peruvian story. I probably wouldn't change any of it.

Cuidense.

Going home soon...

I'm going back home soon--whateve home means, it is my family, my friends, all the things I've missed.
I may have found someone who will take over my job, which would be great to keep the projects going. I will talk to her tomorrow and then fix my flight back, through D.C., to London, and Torino. It's not an easy decision, but I need to set a date so I stop this schizofrenia of wanting to leave this minute and wanting to stay here years. I am very attached to this country I still don't understand (do you ever fully unerstand a place?) but that I love in spite of the (three) people who really disappointed me. I hope that when I look back on this experience I will be able to separate between how much I despise Maricarmen, and how beautiful the place is, and how much Sonia drives me crazy, and how much I admire and respect so many people I've met, and how much Luis hurt me, and how much I enjoy working with the communities, and how much I have learned from all of it.

Experience

"Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want"
...is it too cynical to find that this quote perfectly applies to my Peruvian experience? My time here till now has been interesting and in every way different from what I would have visualised (had I visualised anything) when sitting at home in Italy in January. During the last 8 months I of course changed and learned and grew, I lost a camera, a cell phone and a lot of money, I lost my mind, my heart and my mp3 player--but it would be cliché to say that "I'm a different person" or that "this experience changed my life".
I'm uninspired to write, and I'm sure I'm uninspiring if you're looking for motivation to move to a developing country...I keep whining about no internet, cold shower, crazy bosses, bad food, dangerous roads and machistas, and I fail to mention the starry nights, the Inca ruins, the beautiful mountains, the cute-and-dirty children. Did I ever tell you how much I love working with communities, did I ever mention that there is this little town called Sacaca at 3900 m, which is beautiful and where I love to go and work with the people. Have I not told you they make amazing weavings and they drive me crazy with all their internal politics and fights? Have I told you how much I hate going to communities and distributing donations, I feel so uncomfortable being thanked (as if I were sacrificing myself to bring them clothes and coloured pencils), it is so awkward being in the position of having and donating to those who do not have. It's much better to work with people who try to manipulate me to get money and support.

Here are my mom's pictures from my parents' and Lorenzo's visit...
http://picasaweb.google.it/laura.palmucci

Besos