Oct 20,2006 Iquitos
Global Support
Update for Oct. 20, 2006
Iquitos, Peru
Fresh rain in the tropics on the deep red, clay-like soil presents a slippery escapade driving the Land Cruiser into the entry of the road to Campos Blancos Children’s Center 43 kilometers out of Iquitos. Ice would be a reasonable facsimile for the experience if there’s been recent precipitation. Not long after I arrived at this luscious tropical area, a trip to the land brought the Land Cruiser slowly and uncontrollably sliding into a ditch. Luckily I was not driving. Glaucio was, and tried to turn on the 4 x 4 equipment, but soon discovered in route to the ditch that the 4-wheel drive wasn’t working. It was only a small ditch, so not a problem since the property had a tractor that pulled us out.
I’d like to say in passing that the tractor looks more like a roto-tiller than a tractor, and operates much the same. The blades are enormous and extend themselves from the wheel like a roto-tiller—with no shocks. We all, including the Peruvians and Royce the driver, have a big laugh as the roto-tiller tractor has to rescue the enormous Land Cruiser out of the ditch. Really comical. It worked great, though!
On the 72 acres of land, Campos Blancos has one worker, handi-man, Royce, that works full time fulfilling whatever the needs are in tending to the property, be it thrashing at the tall grass with a machete, clearing land for the 1 acre farm, or painting the walls of the first home or patching the holes in the corrugated tin roof. He has an easy smile and the typical easy manner seen in many of the Peruvians. He greets us each time we pull into the area, be it from a far field, or from work at the home. We exchange greetings when we come to a stop. Royce and others will unload the materials we brought. Then we get into discussion of the work at hand. He’s become an expert at hand signals as we attempt to communicate regarding the needs of the home. Que falta? Has become a common phrase for me. What is missing? What is lacking?
I have learned to not be in a hurry. Don’t be expecting that list of supplies needed to be typed out or even scribbled on a napkin. My first couple of trips to the land I accompanied Glaucio, and wondered what the heck took so long and why so much talking? Don’t they already know what needs work? Don’t they have in their mind what supplies are needed? Well, yes, well no.
It didn’t take me a nano-second, though, to adopt an endearing attitude towards the process, and realize you discuss some things, then come at it again from another angle and different information emerges, then go at it again to be sure everything is discussed. Live with the expectation that not all will be covered, but it will be adequate for the moment. They don’t think in terms of a spread sheet and a check-off list. But the process stills moves forward.
The size of the Peruvian men belie their strength. Many of these men are very hard workers, and certainly strong. We are fortunate in the people we have hired. Herbert is another hiree, more skilled in finishing the tile on all the floors and bathroom shower stalls. I am amazed at the diligence and fortitude he and his assistant have in working in extremely hot conditions with almost no ventilation. They could open all the windows in the house while working, but seem to not mind that only a few are open. I would die in 15 minutes. I am almost dying as I drip gallons of perspiration while standing still and discussing things with them in the closed off rooms.
When finished with the workers I always take time for a jaunt around the property, soaking in its atmosphere, circumnavigating the future soccer field, walking through the brush briskly in the hopes to dodge insects—which is always unsuccessful. I imagine what it will look like in the future. Ten houses, more or less, will dot the surrounding field. Over on that knoll maybe we’ll see a school, then a church, maybe a medical clinic that could serve the surrounding community as well as this Children’s Center. Small garden plots near each home could bring fresh vegetation to the table. Businesses would be tended to. Kids will be running around playing, carrying things, accomplishing handi-crafts, doing school work, helping in the field; all the things expected in daily living.
The good news is they will not be on the streets of Iquitos left to the wiles of a dangerous and relentless life, where begging, hitting up the tourists, fighting for every inch becomes the norm, where the better looking ones become engulfed in child prostitution and so entangled they are unable to escape. In time this land will host some of these kids, and offer them a life they could never even dream of. We at Global Support look forward to that day.
Leigh
Next will be the Street Kids….
Update for Oct. 20, 2006
Iquitos, Peru
Fresh rain in the tropics on the deep red, clay-like soil presents a slippery escapade driving the Land Cruiser into the entry of the road to Campos Blancos Children’s Center 43 kilometers out of Iquitos. Ice would be a reasonable facsimile for the experience if there’s been recent precipitation. Not long after I arrived at this luscious tropical area, a trip to the land brought the Land Cruiser slowly and uncontrollably sliding into a ditch. Luckily I was not driving. Glaucio was, and tried to turn on the 4 x 4 equipment, but soon discovered in route to the ditch that the 4-wheel drive wasn’t working. It was only a small ditch, so not a problem since the property had a tractor that pulled us out.
I’d like to say in passing that the tractor looks more like a roto-tiller than a tractor, and operates much the same. The blades are enormous and extend themselves from the wheel like a roto-tiller—with no shocks. We all, including the Peruvians and Royce the driver, have a big laugh as the roto-tiller tractor has to rescue the enormous Land Cruiser out of the ditch. Really comical. It worked great, though!
On the 72 acres of land, Campos Blancos has one worker, handi-man, Royce, that works full time fulfilling whatever the needs are in tending to the property, be it thrashing at the tall grass with a machete, clearing land for the 1 acre farm, or painting the walls of the first home or patching the holes in the corrugated tin roof. He has an easy smile and the typical easy manner seen in many of the Peruvians. He greets us each time we pull into the area, be it from a far field, or from work at the home. We exchange greetings when we come to a stop. Royce and others will unload the materials we brought. Then we get into discussion of the work at hand. He’s become an expert at hand signals as we attempt to communicate regarding the needs of the home. Que falta? Has become a common phrase for me. What is missing? What is lacking?
I have learned to not be in a hurry. Don’t be expecting that list of supplies needed to be typed out or even scribbled on a napkin. My first couple of trips to the land I accompanied Glaucio, and wondered what the heck took so long and why so much talking? Don’t they already know what needs work? Don’t they have in their mind what supplies are needed? Well, yes, well no.
It didn’t take me a nano-second, though, to adopt an endearing attitude towards the process, and realize you discuss some things, then come at it again from another angle and different information emerges, then go at it again to be sure everything is discussed. Live with the expectation that not all will be covered, but it will be adequate for the moment. They don’t think in terms of a spread sheet and a check-off list. But the process stills moves forward.
The size of the Peruvian men belie their strength. Many of these men are very hard workers, and certainly strong. We are fortunate in the people we have hired. Herbert is another hiree, more skilled in finishing the tile on all the floors and bathroom shower stalls. I am amazed at the diligence and fortitude he and his assistant have in working in extremely hot conditions with almost no ventilation. They could open all the windows in the house while working, but seem to not mind that only a few are open. I would die in 15 minutes. I am almost dying as I drip gallons of perspiration while standing still and discussing things with them in the closed off rooms.
When finished with the workers I always take time for a jaunt around the property, soaking in its atmosphere, circumnavigating the future soccer field, walking through the brush briskly in the hopes to dodge insects—which is always unsuccessful. I imagine what it will look like in the future. Ten houses, more or less, will dot the surrounding field. Over on that knoll maybe we’ll see a school, then a church, maybe a medical clinic that could serve the surrounding community as well as this Children’s Center. Small garden plots near each home could bring fresh vegetation to the table. Businesses would be tended to. Kids will be running around playing, carrying things, accomplishing handi-crafts, doing school work, helping in the field; all the things expected in daily living.
The good news is they will not be on the streets of Iquitos left to the wiles of a dangerous and relentless life, where begging, hitting up the tourists, fighting for every inch becomes the norm, where the better looking ones become engulfed in child prostitution and so entangled they are unable to escape. In time this land will host some of these kids, and offer them a life they could never even dream of. We at Global Support look forward to that day.
Leigh
Next will be the Street Kids….
posted by Global Support {with a mission} at
9:31 AM
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