DukeEngage | Duke Center for Civic Engagement

     In Peru, the Andes mountains dominate every aspect of climate and geography. Towering in the center of the country, they divide the country into three very distinct regions. The mountains themselves form the center alpine region. To the west, along the Pacific, streaches a thin costal desert. To the east, stealing the majority of the countries rain, is the Amazon.

     Most of our time in Peru has been spent in the costal desert. La Libertad (the state we are living in) is actually one of the wetter costal regions, but still it only recieves a few milimeters of rain each year. Although the region is naturally rather barren, it is also rather densely populated, and used extensively for agrictulture. Extensive irrigation systems and canals that date back to pre-Incan civilization spread across the land like veins carrying the lifeblood of the region. Farms dominate the countryside: large Colombian owned sugarcane plantations, sprawling agricultural collectives, and a horde of small acerage plots squished into every nook and cranny avaliable. Where the water reaches, the land flourishes. Just a few feet outside though, and all there is is red rock and yellow sand. This creates a view ripe with sharp contrasts. Driving along the costline, one can be surrounded by desolate dunes of sand one moment, and then be in an almost utopian oasis of greenery the next. Just a few miles inland the barren red crags of the Andean foothills clash with lush green valleys.

     Cuidad de Dios (the town we work in) lies at one of these color barriers in the Moche River Valley. A collection of about 50 dusty squat adobe houses, this squatter village lies just above the irrigation line - just above where the property value jumps from almost worthless dust and rock to very valuable arrable land. We are not staying in the town though, as there is nowhere there to house a group of twelve gringos. Thus, we live about 30-40 minutes away in Huanchaco. Huanchaco is situated at another sharp contrast: where dusty sand and crumbly bluffs collide with the blue ocean. A rather densly packed suburb, the town apparently is the Peruvian equivalent of Myrtle or Daytona Beach during the summer. Fortunately, we are in the depths of the Peruvian winter (it gets to a freezing 60 degrees farenheit at night) when it is just as the Peruvians like to say ¨muy Tranquillo¨.

     And, that is all for now. My time on the computer is just about up and some Peruvian dude is about to come and bother me for money. As for the other two sections of Peru, I´m afraid I cannot comment right now. I have only spent four days in alpine region (although I will be in Cusco after the trip so maybe I will update this then), and am sad to say that as much as I would like to, I do not have time to visit the Amazon. 

One of our first days in Peru we visited a town called Villa el Salvador outside of Lima. The town was very different from the parts of Lima we had seen and one of our first encounters with life of poverty in Peru. The room that i think was their museum had photos and quotes commemorating the growth of the city. "Optamos por la vida" and "Viva la paz" brightened the dark, damp room. We learned about the history of this town from a man named Jose. He told us about the struggle of the people in the town and how they were able to drastically develop the desert into a small city. Jose had happy eyes, full cheeks, and a slight limp. At one point he explained to us how he had broken his femur, collar bone, two ribs, and his hand and never received any medical attention. He healed himself only with natural products. There is a strong connection to the earth here. The people find strength and pride in the land, power in the soil and beauty in the majestic misty mountains. Life here isn´t perfect but there is freedom in a life away from the madness of technology.

After leaving the museum we went to a market where we were received by the people as celebrities. The women scurried to make sure all 14 of us had one of their plastic chairs to sit in and a cup of Inka Kola. One tan, wrinkled man we were talking with drew my attention. He had a green sweater on that was missing buttons and shoes that were tied with a series of different strings creating laces. I could tell, however, that he had made a real effort to look good. It was really moving to see that even though these people had so little, they were proud of the little they had. They tried very hard to make us feel welcome. The nothingness that surrounded them in the desert didn´t cause grief or pity but instead hope and opportunity for everything there could be. The desert was their desert, and became their dynasty. With nothing they saw everything they could create.

During my first few weeks here in Peru I think i learned a lot about the country, its people, its history, and its culture. With time, as i started calling our house home, i started to realize that
even though i was still learning about Peru, i was also learning a lot about myself. i wouldn't necessarily say this has been a "life changing" experience if such a thing even exists, but throughout my stay I've reached a deeper understanding of my personal identity. I can see more clearly my strengths, my weaknesses, and who i am. Paula Brownlee stated, "to do good things in the world, first you must know who you are and what gives meaning to your life". I think rather, it is by doing good things in the world that we come closer to who we are and what gives meaning to our life. I don't believe we ever have enlightening moments when we finally realize who we are. By challenging ourselves, our beliefs, and our worlds we can struggle towards a better understanding of ourselves.

I had studied abroad three times before I embarked upon my Duke Engage trip to Cuidad de Dios, a squatter community in northwestern Peru. During each of my previous abroad experiences my objectives were clear; I was there to explore a
> new culture, get to know people, and broaden my horizons. My goals were noble, but a bit selfish. While I did share my culture with others and hopefully affected their lives in a positive way, my focus was primarily on personal growth. This trip has been different, my focus here has been on community growth, but through working with the community I have also learned about myself.
While a passerby might observe twelve Duke students and ten UNC students (with Nourish International) simply painting a mural in the Plaza de Armas, picking up trash, and helping to construct a new water system in the small community, we are in actuality doing much more. In all of the projects we are striving to bring people of the community together. We want them to take pride in a beautiful town and a clean water system.
The majority of the residents of Cuidad de Dios, a small town of about 40 families, moved to the town, which lies on high ground, after devistating flooding during the El Niño of 1997. People came from different cities and towns and have not lived for long in Cuidad. People in the lower, more well established part of town have water in their homes while new residents in the high part of town must use public taps and carry water up to their homes. The current water system is controlled by a larger town called Santa Rosa, and the amount of water pressure in Cuidad de Dios is directly related to the amount of water used by Santa Rosa. The current water system often lacks sufficient pressure and can be cut off by the town of Santa Rosa.
In order to start the new water project held a meeting with the town to get their approval as well as elect community members to a commitee to oversee the maintenance of the system and be an integral part of the contrustion. We see community ownership of the system as vital to its success. During the contrustion of the the water system we hired members of the community to work with us in digging trenches, laying pipes, and backfilling. We have had paid work days as well as community volunteer work days. Community members who already have water have worked side by side with newer waterless community members to build the system. Even after we reduced the number of paid workers, community members have brought their shovels and picks to help us for free.
This week we have interviewed members of the community about their feelings on the water project and about the strange "gringos" that have invaded their small town. While comments were made about the funny way we shovel and my unbelievably white skin, most people were very excited about the new water system and some people even commented on a new sense of unity in the community. While the community has become tighter, my horizons have been widened. I definitely share the sense of pride the community has in all of our accomplishments of the past six and half weeks.

Peruvians seem to be confused that Asian people can be American as well.  While I understand it´s because of the fact that Peru has a large indigenous population, I still find it odd that even though all 12 of us are in the same group of people (the American gringos), Peruvians (not just in Ciudad de Dios) hink that e´re not part of the group.  They keep asking where we´re from and kind of surprised when they hear Los Estados Unidos.  It makes me wonder about the kind of image that America portrays...how is it that America is considered the land of immigrants, but also the land of white gringos?

Another thing that surprised me - I brought my sunglasses to Ciudad because I thought they would be useful when the sun shone.  I waspretty careful about only bringing things that I might need and nothing flashy.  I totally did not expect, however, that my sunglases would be the object of so many children´s facination to the point that they fought over them and even asked me to gift it to them.  I think that even kids in the US would play with and fight over glasses, so the thing that surprised me the most was that Thalia kept asking me to gift them to her.  It made me think about how these kids view us - do they think that we´re just the bringers of fascinating things?

We have only been in Huanchaco for 6 weeks but it already feels like a second home now. While it is a small town - everybody in this town is separated only by 2 degrees of separation, it is a tourist town and I am just another transient resident. It is humbling to know that though it has made such an enormous impact on me, I am just a part of the constant flux of gringos in and out with the season.

One of the things I will remember the most are the distinct smells.

We live on the beach and you can smell the salty ocean and constant stickiness on your skin. Walking towards the main street, you can smell the fresh baked bread on the corner bakery. At night, the streets smell of the chicken and fish on the barbeques in front of the restaurants. On the beach, the bonfires die and leave behind lumps of carbon and the campfire smell on your clothing. You can smell the fresh catch when fishermen gut the fish on the pier. The surfshops have a stagnant smell of damp wetsuits.  The stairs leading up to the the kitchen smells like garlic when Elouisa is cooking.

On the drive to Ciudad, each segment of the drive has very distinct pockets of smells. We pass long stretches of landfills, the scent of stale trash and burning plastic bags. The fish farm smells of fish pellets and the sweet, tar scent of burnt sugarcane fields is very common with the slash-and-burn technique.

In Ciudad, you inhale so much dust that the inside of your nose is black by the end of the day. A film of fine sand coats your body. If you are unlucky, the wind will carry the scent from the latrines. They have livestock in their backyards and the scent of cow and chicken can be found along the roads. The food being prepared for lunch in Flor and Carla´s house always smells good in the afternoon.