Pichacani - Who am I?

Deep in the Peruvian Andes, on a plateau at about 13,000 feet above sea level, in the department of Puno, in the scattered farming community of Pichacani (in Quecha “Who am I”), right near a newly constructed bridge, lives a young woman by the name of Juris. Her dad spends months at a time working in a notoriously life-threatening informal mine of Perú, while her mom helps farm and makes frequent trips to the market. She has 3 younger siblings: Yon Aberlin, age four, Delia, age three, and a baby of about one year. She looks out for them most of the time, cooking for them, cleaning, teaching, bringing them along to do chores, etc. Juris is ten years old, and she too plays like any other child. 

I was recently given the opportunity to assist Ricardo Simmonds, a Sodalit from Brazil, in leading a mission trip for three college students from Colorado. Juris and her family became close friends of ours.

It was difficult getting to know the community in Pichacani, as the houses are spread out, travel is slow, and the people are quite reserved. After reflecting a bit on the history of the area, we learned the people had good reason to be so. The professor and principal of the school (well, the only teacher there), who had invited us, spoke of memories he had of the Shining Path. The Shining Path was a ruthless terrorist movement that spread through the countryside of Peru mostly in the 80s, and millions fled to the cities. He told us that the teachers hid up in the hills when they came through, and they would leave decapitated bodies on the sides of the roads. The Peruvian army, he said, wasn’t much better. 

The poverty of communities and the promising salary of a miner have and still attract many of the people to mines, many of them informal, despite the well-known health problems. Peru has is one of the worlds fastest growing economies, largely due to the mines. Some of the economic growth trickles down through the different social classes, and one method of doing this is by requiring the mining companies to pay a good percentage of their profits to the local communities. However, when one encounters an indoor, heated, Olympic-sized pool that has yet to be used in the middle of the Andes, suspicion naturally arises. Indeed, much of this money is wasted due to 1) corruption and 2) lack of education to know how to use the money. Remember, the community we visited has 1 teacher for around 70 students, and he also cooks for the students and cleans the school.

Then there are those still holding to the farming tradition, and have been left… well, not exactly eager to trust every strange that comes through. The people not only endure the material poverty of malnutrition and lack of hygiene, but they are psychological scared. There remains the need for education and for spiritual accompaniment.

What brought us close to the community was our slight-dependence on them. The first day we bought a lamb and the professor helped us slaughter what would become our main food source for the week. Every bit of the lamb was eaten aside from the excrements. We also bought eggs, milk, and one day even trout from the locals. Because no trees grow at this altitude, cow chips were burned for the grill.

So why were we here? To offer what we could both materially and spiritually. Our ongoing project was planting a greenhouse of vegetables for the school we stayed at, as it was impossible to grow them in normal conditions. They raise oats, wheat, quinoa, and potatoes (which come from Peru), as well as cows, sheep, chickens, and even some trout - but no fruits or vegetables. It was summer, meaning rainy season, and it even snowed one morning. We were planning to help the neighbors plant potatoes, but the rain did not allow it.

Because the children were on vacation from classes and the houses were so spread out, we split up and walking through the countryside, meeting people, talking with them, inviting them to catechesis that we had for children and adults, and praying with them. We also handed out rosaries and prayer cards here and there, which was such a huge gift that usually we needed to insist on it being a “gift”, as in we weren’t trying to sell them something.

The mission overall was very challenging, as we stayed but a week before being exhausted from the altitude, the diet, the shortage of sleep, etc. But, it was very much an experiencing of giving everything, of seeking God's plan in our day to day situations, and experiences God's providence in all we did. On a personal level, I can say it was definitely a gift received at the right time. 

Tinajani (in Quecha "Devil's Bathtub") - A rock formation in Puno we visited just
before the mission. You could image a dinosaur coming around the corner.  

This was the very fresh milk that we drank. We usually boiled it. This was a
huge gift, as in Lima we usually drink condensed milk from a can.

Victor, the professor that invited us back for missions in Pichacani,
 taught us how to slaughter a sheep that we bought our first day. 

Our main food source for the mission. 

Fried blood with intestines, a special meal cooked for us by Victor (on the right).
He also dished up our plates very generously. All of the missionaries had a
good attitude and ate almost everything, and it actually didn't taste too bad.

Delia, who came with her sibling the first night of catechesis and stayed
for at least 3 hours. They were enough to wear us out.

One day we woke up to snow. It is summer, remember. 

I'm on a horse.

Grilling out over cow chips! A few guys came for some catechesis
and joined us in the feast afterwards. Good thing because we
wouldn't have been able to eat it all. They got home late, I suppose
they told their wives they were praying all evening :)

The creation story.

Juris (left) , Yon (her brother), and Nelga (her cousin)

One night it was raining, so we improvised a litte to make the grill work. 

It still turned out okay! 

Acting out the Nativity with the help of the kids. Yeah, we used a real
sheep in the nativity seen! 

We acted out the play first, and then we found volunteers from the children
to reenact it. This is the scourging at the pillar, just getting ready to carry his cross. 

Bravo! 

The last night we cooked all the lamb we had left and shared it with some of
the friends we had made. One of the missionaries from the U.S. brought a bag
of coats, and it was cool to be able to offer them to the group of people we
became close with. Yon (on the right) was the ornery one of the group. 

A Jesuit church in Cuzco. There are hidden treasures like
this all over Puno as well, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
The art work inside is usually remarkable as well. Often they
are broken into and the paintings put on the black market in
Europe for thousands of dollars.