Chapter 1: Sweet Home Ollanta

I am currently sitting in my bedroom, atop a pile of four heavy alpaca blankets, which makes for very warm sleeps. Outside my door is an open-air stairway that leads to the center courtyard area of the house, complete with rabbit and cuy (guinea pig) cages. When I asked my mom, hoping for the impossible, if they were pets she giggled, “No chiquita, for eating! Birthdays and special occasions only!” Thank God my birthday was two weeks ago… Outside my windows, I have the most spectacular views of rugged Andes mountains with Inca ruins build into their steep slopes. And through these windows I hear the most unfamiliar sounds: donkeys snorting in discontent, snarls of stray dogs fighting for someone’s dinner leftovers, and of course, the up-and-down cadence of someone’s Spanish, trying to make a deal at the market no doubt.

One of my host brothers, Luis, peeks in on me to see what this fancy machine with a lit up apple on its front is. I try to explain in my rusty Spanish why it’s called a laptop and he has to say it at least three times before he can get it. His family is wonderful, and I have the pleasure of living with them for the next few months. My dad, Ivan, is darling, is a farmer and artisan, and plays in an adult soccer league. My mom, Lucia, is gentle and kind, and sews these adorable dolls dressed in traditional Quechua garb. The oldest son, Javier, is 24 and has a busy social life, but is great with his younger siblings. Their only daughter, Eliana, is 21 and is a second mom to the two younger boys, both teasing them and making sure they eat their vegetables. Luis, the curious on-looker, is 11 and very mature for his age. The youngest, Alex, is 9 and has the most adorable brand-new front teeth. I wish I could have seen him before they had grown in. He has quite a personality, cheating very stealthily several times during our game of UNO last night. He also hates vegetables, and made the most hilarious face when he started chewing a carrot this afternoon at lunch.

I started work on Monday and so far I love my job. My first role is to create a more structured volunteer program. I am working on a volunteer handbook currently, as well as a volunteer manifest and calendar. The organization ended up being small officially, but to my happy surprise, there are far more volunteers and workers here than I imagined. We had a pizza party the first night and there were 13 people there! Whoo hoo!! I might have friends here! At least three others are brand new, easing my anxiety about being the newbie. We keep a nice little office in the second floor of someone’s general store. It has a slanted floor and only three outlets for at least seven computers, but the Internet mostly works and it’s filled with fun people. My boss and head of Awamaki US, Kennedy, is wonderful, and I know we will work very well together already. The other permanent members of the staff are Emma, the head of Awamaki Peru, which runs the textile project, and Miguel, our Peruvian staff member who acts as the necessary liaison between the locals and us.

Awamaki has two sides: US and Peru. The Awa Peru deals directly with about 35 women weavers who live in an even smaller village called Patacancha high in the mountains above Ollantaytambo. They develop new designs for the women, and sell their products both in a store in Ollanta and abroad. Awamaki US mostly runs the volunteer program, which is a major money producer for both sides of the organization. We place volunteers in 3 clinics, 3 schools, a community center, an after school program, and in the village of Patacancha. We also take on photographers and tech people to help with the running of the organization.

Yesterday Kennedy, a volunteer photographer Josh, Miguel, and I went around the area, talking to flood victims. In Ollantaytambo alone, we estimate there are about 35 families, or about 150-200 people displaced by the floods and landslides. Homes outside the town are usually made of adobe, which is dried mud, and when it gets wet, it turns to wet mud, washing away with the river. Sever homes right outside Ollanta are completely destroyed, fields of maiz washed away, and bridges, including the main bridge in Ollanta, collapsed. Right now, the displaced people are living in tents set up by the government or, like about 60 people, camped out in schools in town. We saw the road that leads to the start of the Inca trail end in mid-air, cut cleanly by a landslide into the river. (Pictures to come) Awamaki has decided to help in the long-term relief efforts, as right now the generous families of Ollanta are helping meet the immediate needs of these people. As school starts in about a month, we will buy the expensive school supplies for the children and also aid the reconstruction of houses once the rainy season is over. Kennedy's boyfriend, who lives here also, is a carpenter and architect. He had an idea to build concrete foundations for the homes so they won't be washed away should the river flood again.

Then, last night, my uncle Steve and aunt Lynn were miraculously in Ollantaytambo! They had signed up for this awesome tour a few years back, before Peru was ever a electrical signal in my mind, and we happened to cross paths! How lucky is that?! I met them for dinner at their very nice hotel and met several of their fellow tour-goers. They've been visiting several smaller rural towns known for their beautiful weavings. Then, the next morning we walked around the village a little, reveling in the Inca doorways still used here in Ollanta. I was sad to see them go, but it was wonderful to get some hugs and kisses from family in this new home.

Tomorrow is a festival called Compadres in a nearby village, which separates the patronism between the towns and villages. Dancing, drinking, and a bull fight are all parts of the celebration, so I'm excited to see how these people party! Surely lots of good pictures from that on the way... Also coming up: hiking to the quarry and to some smaller ruins in Ollanta this weekend.

Overall, I am adapting well, I think, and four months is seeming more and more manageable everyday.