Wednesday was the kind of the day they were talking about: the group took a bus to the poorest part of Lima, the capital city in Peru. Not normal honeymoon behavior. And yet, it was one of the more rewarding experiences of Lynne and Matt's lives.
The people in the small fish market knew we weren't going to buy any fish, so they didn't much like us hanging around there. Although the tour group gave them a tip - and some of the fisherman were very friendly - Lynne and Matt couldn't help but feel a bit imperialistic, dropping in to see how the other half lives.
Near the fishing was a traditional market where everything from fresh fruit to soap to underwear was sold in a maze of tiny booths that were virtually indistinguishable from each other. Half of the market was closed because - just like in the U.S. - a megamart down the street had undercut their prices and was much more convenient for shoppers. Although this scenario plays itself out in the U.S. all the time, you had to wonder what will happen to these fisherman and small merchants, who have absolutely no education or skills to fall back on.
Shanty towns are very controversial in Peru. Even though most of Lima started as shanty towns, the established residents don't like the newcomers dirtying up the edges of their city. The shanty towns have been outlawed. Just a week before Lynne and Matt visited Santa Rosa, the government had come through with bulldozers, indiscriminately knocking over homes, crushing beds and school report cards. Miraculously, no one was hurt. A week later, the residents had simply put their homes back together. They were survivors.
The residents have banded together, reasoning that alone they are vulnerable and together they are a force. Even though many of them work the most menial jobs in Peru, they all donate a little of their paycheck to the group kitchen. There, for two soles (about 60 cents), they can eat a full dinner. If you can't pay two soles (because you have no work), you can clean dishes or cook and pay one sole. If you are physically unable to do that, you are sponsored by the other residents. After the bulldozing, the kitchen had saved up enough money to give free meals to the residents for eight days. The sense of community among these people - bond by poverty - is amazing.
The community has carved out a small, dirt soccer field. They hire one of the residents to serve as a "policeman", who is really more of a watchman, keeping an eye out for enterprising thieves and government trucks. (Few of the homes have locks, which are too expensive.) The roads are covered in large rocks the residents carried in an effort to flatten the ground, since they can't afford to pave the roads.
On the wall, Mirabel had posted some artwork her children had done in school. All of her families money went to paying for her children's schooling so they could have professional jobs (like tour guides) someday. Mirabel started crying when told us about that because her last child had started school recently. It was the tears of someone who is overwhelmed by the idea that there may be hope for her family.
Lynne and Matt realized that standing there with their hiking boots on, wedding rings and digital cameras, they were carrying more wealth than this entire family had. But no one would take donations.
No, it wasn't romantic, but it was eye opening. The people were truly wonderful. They were generous when they had nothing and welcoming when they could have been ashamed. Lynne and Matt were acutely aware of how lucky they are. And while Lynne and Matt felt obtrusive, they never felt unwanted.
And there is proof that these shanty towns can survive and thrive. After Santa Rosa, the group went to Villa el Salvador, a "Stage 2" shanty town. the first squatters came in 1970 and lived in shacks. But they slowly fortified their own reed homes with bricks and wood. They built their own banks and paved their own roads. They started a thriving industry that supplies some of the nicest furniture to Peru at prices that were ridiculously cheap (dining room table and six chairs for $300). The community was still "poor" but it was clearly thriving, growing. And, the residents were nominated for the Nobel Prize for the community efforts.
It was an unforgettable visit, filled with despair, hope and perspective.
That night, after a spaghetti lunch in a Swiss restaurant, Lynne and Matt took a death defying
The entire group had sent their laundry down to a cleaners at our guide's suggestion and collecting all the right clothing was a challenge. ("If I come down wearing too long pants, you will know they are not mine," said one woman.) But everyone headed to bed, grateful for all they had and ready for a flight to Cusco the next day.
Day Eight Summary: Zero flights, zero boat trips and zero bus rides; one humbling visit to an amazing city; one dud Inquisition Museum.
Mustache: Glorious. The mustache was having it's best day yet. It was neither the thin creepy mustache yet, nor the vague not-yet-shaven experience. The mustache was truly in its element this day.
Weird foods eaten: Spaghetti at a Swiss restaurant in Peru is fairly odd
Coming next: Thin air and a famous stone
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