Inca Wasi

Posted on October 24th, 2008 in Peru by Jeremy Kaye
I usually find the time to update this blog on a regular basis, but this morning I realized that I hadn’t posted a blog entry in almost 3 weeks. What gives? By now I was supposed to be well on my way to Santiago, Chile. The plan was to hike around the Cordillera Blanca for a week or two, decompress in Mancora, maybe tour around the ruined citadel of Kuelap, then make a bee-line for Lima and the North of Chile. So what am I still doing in Peru? Well, first thing’s first.
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Cajamarca, if you’ve never heard of it, is a city situated in the north of Peru. It gets practically no tourism despite being the Peruvian capital of Carnival and boasting an idyllic mountain setting which easily rivals Cusco with its Baroque stone architecture and historic importance (this was the site where Pizarro, outnumbered 200 to 1, captured and killed the last Inca Emperor Atahualpa). Like most large South American cities, Cajamarca walks the tightrope between progress and poverty. Over near the historical center stands a two story mall complete with climate control, food court, fashion conscious shoppers and advertisements for the new iPhone 3G (now half price!). A brisk fifteen minute walk from there and you will notice that there are no longer any cars on the road. Ten minutes from there and the roads themselves are no longer even paved. Ten minutes further and the houses no longer have doors or windows. Ten minutes more and you may not have running water or electricity. The proximity of those with so much to those with so little is startling. Luckily, there are organizations like Inca Wasi which are working to correct the imbalance.
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I first heard about Inca Wasi through a friend I met in Lima. We spent only two days together but when we parted I promised (threatened) to pay her a visit the next time I was in northern Peru. Five months later I finally made good on it. By the time I arrived she was nearing the end of her 6 month volunteer stint with the Inca Wasi center. I’m not sure exactly what her role was when she first signed up, but these days she was a teacher, administrator, child psychiatrist, den mother and disciplinarian. There are over 40 children in the program, ages 6 to 17, and when I arrived there were only 3 full time volunteers, one of whom was leaving that week. It was obvious that they needed all the help they could get. Without much hesitation I volunteered to stay on for a month, and even though they traditionally require a minimum commitment of 3 months, without much hesitation they accepted.
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The children in the program are all chosen based upon need, so as you can imagine these are the poorest of the poor. Many are multiple-child, single parent households earning less than 200 Soles (60 dollars) a month. Every single one is a special needs case in one way or another. One of my students is often sleepy and listless because he stays up at night working to help raise income for his family. Another might soon be pulled from the center permanently because at the age of 12 she is now old enough to work a full time job earning 4 Soles a day (roughly a dollar and thirty cents) to help feed her siblings. A third has attempted suicide multiple times and another prefers to sleep on the streets rather than return to a household where he is physically abused.
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The average day at the center is fairly well structured, though we all know that dealing with groups of children is always organized chaos. Every day we offer the children a balanced lunch and a snack. The portions are often bigger than their heads but we insist that they finish every bite because for some of them this is the only food they will eat until tomorrow. Their families are all too poor to afford luxuries like toothbrushes and toothpaste, so we provide them with both and make sure they brush their teeth twice while they are at the center, once after lunch and again after their snack. Like every town high in the Andes, the temperature of Cajamarca can drop precipitously at night. Practically all of the children have cracked skin on their hands or faces from exposure to the elements through inadequate housing, so we give them a little skin cream before they leave for the day. As for activities, we offer them help with the standard school curriculum: math, language, history and science. English lessons are even on the menu, and we mix things up with arts and crafts, computer lessons, and sports. To focus some of their aggressions I set up a punching bag in the main area. My reward has been several excruciating right crosses into the only sensitive area accessible to a 10 year old.

I went into this with the best of intentions, willing to help out a friend and pitch in where I saw a need, but the truth is that I had my doubts. How much of an impact would I possibly make? I am not a trained child psychologist or a behavioral therapist. I can’t begin to personally address many of the problems that these children are dealing with. I’m not a trained educator either. Heck I’m not even a decent Spanish speaker - half the time I can’t understand what the kids are saying to me. The jobs I perform are in-line with my “qualifications”  - cleaning up messes, corralling wayward children, preparing snacks, breaking up horseplay that is getting out of hand, giving piggy-back rides and helping out with homework. This may sound insignificant, the truth is that it did at first to me. Still, for most of these kids the center is one of the few positive influences in their lives. If nothing else I am helping to create a stable environment where they can feel safe and a loving community in which they can learn and grow. And yes my role is menial, but even so I know now that it is an important one, and I am proud to have it.

Adios Ecuador, next stop Chile / My Ugly Mug III

Posted on October 3rd, 2008 in Ecuador, Photos by Jeremy Kaye
I’ve gotten a mixed reception here in Ecuador. On the one hand, I went swimming with playful sea lions in the Galapagos, hiked the rim of the stunning Lake Quilotoa and attended a wonderful local wedding. But I also got mugged, was unceremoniously cut out of the staring role in a documentary, and managed to cripple a friend playing soccer. Lately a persistent voice in the back of my head has been telling me that its time to move on.

The time has come. The time has come. The time is now.
Just go. Go. Go! I don’t care how.

You can go by foot. You can go by cow.
Jeremy D. Kaye will you please go now!

I’ve spent a little over two months in Ecuador and even though it is one of the smallest countries in South America (with a population of only 13 million, there are almost as many people squeezed into New York City) it is one of the most diverse in the world. This mega-diversity is due to the fact that it sits on the Tropic of Cancer, right smack in the middle of a convergence between El Niño - the warm, humid current from the north - and the Humbolt- a cold, dry oceanic current from the south. The natural diversity is rivaled only by the diversity of the people. In a space of less than a day’s drive you find investment bankers in Guayaquil, Afro-Ecuadorian gold-panners in the Playa de Oro, and rainforest tribes in the Amazon who still shun all contact with the outside world. In fact I haven’t yet explored whole swaths of the country including the most of The Orient, the Lowlands and the North and South Coast, but damn that voice:

You can go on stilts.
You can go by fish.
You can go in a Crunk-Car
If you wish.

If you wish
You may go
By lion’s tail.
Or stamp yourself
And go by mail.

Jeremy D. Kaye
Don’t you know
The time has come
To go, go, GO!

My next stop is Chile, but to get there I’ll have to cross the length of Peru - for the third time. To help break up the trip I think I will be spending a bit of time in the north, exploring some of the less visited archaeological points of interest and trekking about the Cordillera Blanca which is reported to have the best high-altitude hiking outside of the Himalayas. I’ll have to move quickly - I’m scheduled to meet a friend in El Calafate, Argentina on the 14th of November, and that is a LONG way down.

I don’t care.
You can go By bike.
You can go On a Zike-Bike
If you like.

If you like You can go
In an old blue shoe.
Just go, go, GO!
Please do, do, do, DO!

Jeremy D. Kaye
I don’t care how.

Jeremy D. Kaye
Will you please
GO NOW!

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Here I am, in all my photogenic glory-

Trying on an Inti-Rami mask at the Otavalo market:

Freezing my butt off at the top of the TeleferiQo, 4100 meters above sea level:

Displaying the rip in my pants up in the bell tower of the Basilica del Voto Nacional in Quito:

Badly missing the cactus target while using a traditional blow gun:

Motoring up the Rio Napo in the Reserva Limoncocha:

Hoping my travel insurance covers cave-ins inside the old gold mines of Zaruma:

Having a high opinion of myself after scaling the hills of the Parque Nacional Podocarpus:

Pointing out the most ridiculous museum exhibit ever - 2 sticks tied together in the shape of a cross - Museo del Banco Central “Pumapungo” in Cuenca: 

I believe I can fly - Laguna Quilotoa:

Enjoying the beauty of the Galapagos Islands (the beaches weren’t bad either):

You might like going in a Zumble-Zay.
You can go by balloon . . .
Or broomstick.
Or You can go by camel
In a bureau drawer.
You can go by bumble-boat
. . . or jet.
I don’t care how you go. Just get!

Jeremy D. Kaye!
I don’t care how.

Jeremy D Kaye
Will you please GO NOW!

I said GO And GO I meant . . .

The time had come
So . . . Jeremy WENT.