The next day we got a bit of a late start, so all we did was haul cement telephone poles. Ha! All. It took every last one of us to move those things! They literally weighed a ton. As in, 2000 pounds. Okay, so we only moved about...two. And one was only half a ton. Still, it was so hard! We had a rope that we cradled it in so that everyone had a loop they were holding on to, and then we had another rope tied to the uphill end of it that served as our brakes. I cannot tell you how incredibly strong those Peruvians are. After we had taken our pole down to where they needed it, struggling, groaning, and using all of our strength, the Peruvians, about half as many of them as there were of us, told us to put
it down and they'd take it the rest of the way--up the huge hill. Its funny, I am using my journal as a sort of guide as to what happened when, but I left so much out! For example, I didn't tell about what we did once we were finished with the poles. We took a very long break in which we explored the coutryside a bit. It was beautiful! There was this one hill that I would have thought was just a hill, but actually, it had a stream going right through it. There was a cool little spot that if you crawled into, you could see the opening of the huge cave that led into the heart of the hill. Once we saw that, of course, we had to climb down to the bottom of the hill and walk through the cave. It was so amazing. Here I was, wandering
around the Peruvian countryside, walking through hills and finding secret little picnic places on the other side. I just don't know how to put into words what this experience was for me. It was...ah! It was beautiful. I'm sure my memory flowers up the images a bit, but still, it was something I can't use words to describe, because I've never learned words powerful enough to do it justice. It was a good day. A good two weeks. After we were finished with the poles, they told us we had to walk back to the village because the truck was down in Cusco picking up supplies. It was about a three mile, uphill walk back, and we were all so hungry! The biggest tragedy of the day was that when we got back, lunch wasn't even ready. Fortunately, we survived, but just barely. After lunch, I sat on the swingset that had just recently been built and played with five or six adorable little girls. They would touch my hands and my face and
try on my necklace and my rings and jabber at me in Kechuan. One of them, Cassandra, followed me everywhere, holding my hand and laughing at me. I loved the people there so much, and very few days go by that I don't think about them. They were the most tender souls I have ever come across. Which made it all the more difficult to leave the next morning. I thought it would be easy to leave the freezing cold rooms with ten bunk beds crammed inside and go back to a warm, somewhat private hotel room with only two roommates. I thought it would be easy to leave the dirt and mud and sweat for a nice hot shower. I thought it would be easy to leave the back-breaking labor for leisurely touring around. It wasn't. As we sang "God Be With You Til We Meet Again" it sank in that these people I had been serving and coming to know may never cross paths with me again in this life. After
we sang, Adrian, the President, spoke to us. He apologized for being unable to provide us with the comfort we are used to and thanked us for making the sacrifice to come to his village. That ripped my heart out and humbled me. I never wanted to complain again! After he spoke, the women of the village gave each of us a handmade belt as a gift of gratitude. They could have sold each belt for at least ten soles, which for them, is a lot of money. Then they all, women and men, gave every single one of us a hug and a "gracias hermana." That's one think I don't think I mentioned. They kept calling me "hermana," and I didn't understand at first what that meant. It means sister, and when I realized that, it struck me just what they were saying. They considered me their sister. Anyway, during our parade of hugs, I lost it. Those people are so incredible. They spend their lives laboring just for survival, yet they
are so humble and so grateful and so quick to open their hearts and homes. Unfortunately, after our tearful farewell, our attempt to ride off into the sunset (so to speak) was ruined by a flat tire on the bus. After about half an hour and a much less romantic departure, we were off. Well, sort of. The ride down on this bus, which was much bigger than the other ones we had been taking, was more of an adventure than any theme park ride. There were three instances where we all had to get off the bus so it could make a turn without getting high-centered. That's Peruvian transportation for you in a nutshell.
The next day we got a bit of a late start, so all we did was haul cement telephone poles. Ha! All. It took every last one of us to move those things! They literally weighed a ton. As in, 2000 pounds. Okay, so we only moved about...two. And one was only half a ton. Still, it was so hard! We had a rope that we cradled it in so that everyone had a loop they were holding on to, and then we had another rope tied to the uphill end of it that served as our brakes. I cannot tell you how incredibly strong those Peruvians are. After we had taken our pole down to where they needed it, struggling, groaning, and using all of our strength, the Peruvians, about half as many of them as there were of us, told us to put
it down and they'd take it the rest of the way--up the huge hill. Its funny, I am using my journal as a sort of guide as to what happened when, but I left so much out! For example, I didn't tell about what we did once we were finished with the poles. We took a very long break in which we explored the coutryside a bit. It was beautiful! There was this one hill that I would have thought was just a hill, but actually, it had a stream going right through it. There was a cool little spot that if you crawled into, you could see the opening of the huge cave that led into the heart of the hill. Once we saw that, of course, we had to climb down to the bottom of the hill and walk through the cave. It was so amazing. Here I was, wandering 
around the Peruvian countryside, walking through hills and finding secret little picnic places on the other side. I just don't know how to put into words what this experience was for me. It was...ah! It was beautiful. I'm sure my memory flowers up the images a bit, but still, it was something I can't use words to describe, because I've never learned words powerful enough to do it justice. It was a good day. A good two weeks. After we were finished with the poles, they told us we had to walk back to the village because the truck was down in Cusco picking up supplies. It was about a three mile, uphill walk back, and we were all so hungry! The biggest tragedy of the day was that when we got back, lunch wasn't even ready. Fortunately, we survived, but just barely. After lunch, I sat on the swingset that had just recently been built and played with five or six adorable little girls. They would touch my hands and my face and 
try on my necklace and my rings and jabber at me in Kechuan. One of them, Cassandra, followed me everywhere, holding my hand and laughing at me. I loved the people there so much, and very few days go by that I don't think about them. They were the most tender souls I have ever come across. Which made it all the more difficult to leave the next morning. I thought it would be easy to leave the freezing cold rooms with ten bunk beds crammed inside and go back to a warm, somewhat private hotel room with only two roommates. I thought it would be easy to leave the dirt and mud and sweat for a nice hot shower. I thought it would be easy to leave the back-breaking labor for leisurely touring around. It wasn't. As we sang "God Be With You Til We Meet Again" it sank in that these people I had been serving and coming to know may never cross paths with me again in this life. After 
we sang, Adrian, the President, spoke to us. He apologized for being unable to provide us with the comfort we are used to and thanked us for making the sacrifice to come to his village. That ripped my heart out and humbled me. I never wanted to complain again! After he spoke, the women of the village gave each of us a handmade belt as a gift of gratitude. They could have sold each belt for at least ten soles, which for them, is a lot of money. Then they all, women and men, gave every single one of us a hug and a "gracias hermana." That's one think I don't think I mentioned. They kept calling me "hermana," and I didn't understand at first what that meant. It means sister, and when I realized that, it struck me just what they were saying. They considered me their sister. Anyway, during our parade of hugs, I lost it. Those people are so incredible. They spend their lives laboring just for survival, yet they 
are so humble and so grateful and so quick to open their hearts and homes. Unfortunately, after our tearful farewell, our attempt to ride off into the sunset (so to speak) was ruined by a flat tire on the bus. After about half an hour and a much less romantic departure, we were off. Well, sort of. The ride down on this bus, which was much bigger than the other ones we had been taking, was more of an adventure than any theme park ride. There were three instances where we all had to get off the bus so it could make a turn without getting high-centered. That's Peruvian transportation for you in a nutshell.
2 comments:
HANNAHFITCH!!! cool blogsite! really good idea to document such a cool experience. regards and best wishes and love!
great experience i think..
nice blog...
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