Happy Halloween family and friends! I feel like I’ve had an eventful couple of weeks full of interesting Peruvian tales for you all.
Firstly and most importantly, last night my town was finally blessed with electricity! I couldn’t believe it when I went outside and saw the lamp posts that had been set up and sitting around for weeks, lighting up the night. I was the first in my family to notice and called to the rest to come out and see and we all burst into smiles and cheers and I was almost moved to tears. It is truly incredible that closing the year of 2010, there are still so many people that live with so little that we in America are blessed with and mostly take for granted. To hear the cheers of the neighbor kids in the night screaming Luz, Tenemos luz” or “Light! We have light!” and running out into the dimly lit soccer fields with balls to play for a little while and celebrate was something I am blessed to have experienced. While most of the houses still do not have their wiring hooked up so almost no one has electricity in their houses, it was still a very significant and beautiful night. A few local boys celebrated by playing a game of soccer on the cement platform that was really well lit up. Overall it was a happy and life changing night for the several communities that will have access to electricity for the first time in their lives. For me personally, I feel lucky that I had almost an entire year to see the community function without electricity like they always have, and now I will get a whole year more to see how things change, improve, or become different. I’m really excited to get to be a part of the advancing in some people’s lives.
But before the lights turned on for the first time, my oldest host sister got married! Saving you all the complications involved, the gist of the story is that she is 17 years old, has been with her boyfriend for 2 years, and they got married on the 23rd of October. She now lives in her husband’s family’s house, which is only the next town over, but my host parents are really struggling emotionally with her absence. However, the party was a blast! A grand total of 5 of my volunteer friends came out to join me in the Peruvian dancing, drinking and celebrating festivities. We started by watching the fiancés sign their legal documents and accept each other as spouses in the municipality in the city of Olmos (my town is a part of the city, kind of like a suburb). We then piled into a truck and went out to my house, where there were decorations and cakes and people waiting for us to arrive. My friends and I watched as the newlyweds drove up in a car and paraded around as we all threw rice on them happily. Then there were speeches, throwing of the bouquet and the newlywed’s first (public) kiss. Overall it was a really lovely ceremony that was only a little darkened by the sad faces of my host parents, who I do not think were quiet ready to loose their first daughter. My friends had a fantastic time dancing and getting to know my community. They loved it, as almost everyone does that comes to visit. We were up until about 5am, woke up again around 8am. Peruvians like to hand out the cakes from parties the morning after the party instead of handing it out during the night, so we had a breakfast of wedding cake. After they left I slept for almost the entire day while then my host Dad and uncles continued to drink until that evening (another common Peruvian thing, to keep drinking the day after a big party). Overall I had a lot of fun, but it has and will continue to change the dynamics in my house. It feels different without my host sister, but the good thing is that she still lives close and my host parents will still get to see her a lot.
Finally, I had my first experience with death, not only in Peru, but in my life. While I did not know the man well, he was the uncle of my best friends in town, and the brother of my best friends Mom, who I am very close to. Because I feel so connected to this particular family, I was heartbroken when I heard the news that they’re uncle and brother had just passed away at only 45 years old. I was then introduced to Peruvian customs of death for the first time. While others have passed away in my town, I had never attended what they call “compañas” or “companions” because I never knew the family well and felt a little uncomfortable with going and with death in general. But in this instance, I knew my presence was important so I went with my host parents early that save evening to the compaña. When we arrived, there were already people sitting around outside of the house looking sad. We greeted the wife of the recently deceased as well as his mother and I was led into a room where the man who has passed away was laid out on a table. I knew I was going to see the body, but I didn’t realize how intimate the whole affair would be. People crowded around him, touching him, commenting that he was still warm and that some of his fingers still moved (they hadn’t hardened yet). Feeling a little detached, I took the whole thing in a little bit as an outsider and an observer, curious about how the whole treatment of death is handled in my town. Men discussed the cause of death and talked about when they last saw him or heard him. We all stayed in the room with him, a lot of people touching him, crying and having conversations about what had happened. Finally, I heard the wailing cries of anguish outside as my good friend, the sister of the deceased, arrived with the coffin and burial attire. The community men that were in attendance then all proceeded to help prepare the body to move into the coffin. They put a purple robe and white socks on him over the clothes he was wearing and sprayed him with cologne. They then lifted the body and put it in the coffin and moved the coffin outside in the open so that everyone would be able to come see him more easily. I was impressed with how everyone chipped in; helping to prepare a dead body is not something I think a lot of us can stomach. Here, death seems to be treated (like everything else) very openly and publicly, with everyone taking part and being present. That night and the next day and night were what they called the compaña. A compaña just means that people all come together and do nothing more but sit with the family of the deceased, conversing and just sharing grief. At night the men sometimes shared a beer or yonkey (a really strong liquor). I stayed that first night until 11pm, sitting with the sister of the deceased and massaging her back, talking to her kids (my close friends) and wishing I could somehow help with the grief. The next evening again, I went to be with the family and was greeted very warmly by the mother of the deceased whom I had never met before. She seemed to have picked up on my connection with the family and was very kind to me and made me feel welcome there. Finally, yesterday the 30th of October was the day of the funeral. We all (family and community members) went to the house to meet. Loud sound fireworks were shot off and a small marching band was there to accompany us. Local men and relations shouldered the coffin to carry it in a march to the river (a good 20 minute walk away). We all walked together to the river, the marching band playing music and marching with us, the women and family members in black and crying, and collecting more people as we walked through the town. At the river, three big trucks were waiting to collect us, along with a string of motos and I was surprised how many people had come out. We all traveled to the graveyard where we got out a few yard early to march again. All the while, local men would voluntarily offer to help carry the coffin for a while, and someone was always running ahead to light off a firework that announced our arrival. When we arrived at the graveyard I spotted my best friend, his Dad and grandpa covered in dirt near the giant whole they had been working on digging all day long for the burial. They were red eyed and tired and looked overwhelmed with grief when we walked in with our huge band of people. The coffin was laid out for people to come by and see him one last time, a pastor said a few words and my good friend, the sister of the deceased, said a few words of thanks to everyone for coming out to share this moment with them. The guys who had dug the grave, with help from local men, then lowered the coffin into the grave while we all threw in flower petals and crowded around to watch and then some volunteer men from the community filled the hole back in. Throughout the whole event I was amazed at how people would jump into help at any opportunity, and how the whole thing was done completely by family and friends, no outside hired help. Even the digging of the grave and the making of the cross were done by the family. It was a very sad but very culturally rich thing for me to experience. I feel a lot of sadness for my close family friends, who have become almost a second home and a safe haven for me in my community. Now will begin another tradition called “luto” which means that the family of the deceased cannot dance or drink and must wear black for an extended (varying) period of time. It can be weeks, months or even years and depends on each individual how long they chose to be “de luto.”
If you have made it through this very long post, I hope you enjoyed my updates about things that are going on in my little Peruvian life. I think things will be very different very soon with the electricity. I plan to get my family a blender for Christmas, meaning lots of delicious juices because the mango and banana season is coming back! But, I will be missing you all as Thanksgiving and the holidays approach and I hope you all continue (or start) to write me and let me know how things are going in your lives! I have one year left and I’m hoping it will enrich me, but also fly by so that I can see you all again sooner!
Much love, good wishes and abrazos!
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