Marci Soifer

Alright, so it happened. I knew it was coming, I prepared with a thick slather of my 50 spf, and tried to wear long sleeves when I could handle the heat (which is fickle, depending on the time of day). However, the Peruvian sun hit me right on the face. My cheeks are the kind of red that would bring envy to those women who wear so much foundation and blush that they resemble clowns. I´m not in pain, don´t worry. I´ll live. And, I am proud to report that the myriad of freckles on my shoulders and arms, which obviously quadruple in number with sun, are even attracting more attenion from the Peruvians, who rarely freckle. Too bad I can´t really talk to them about it...but they seem to get a real laugh. And, I laugh too, because why not?

In other news, today was day two inside the Ayacucho prison. I learned that on the men´s side, they also run many shops, workshops, and stores, to generate money (anyone need a suit from inside...because there is a tailor, as well as a wood craftsmen, many male knitters, and even a few men who create athletic shirts?).

It was visiting day, but only for women and children. On Sundays, men from the outside are permitted to enter. I found it very interesting that while all Peruvian women entering must wear skirts in order to provide guards easy access to anything they may be bringing on them, I could wear pants, or pretty much whatever I please. Visiting day means that there were about double the number of children and women gathered in the women´s yard, and I played with tons of them. The women continually tried to talk to me, which is still frustrating for us both, but I´m learning...steadily. I know how to tell them about how badly I want to understand, and I can answer a lot of their questions if they repeat themselves a few times, while I cannot ask much of them (this totally omits the women who only speak Qechua). However, another volunteer, who is a solid Spanish speaker, spent a great deal of time talking with a few knitting women from of the row of embroiderers sitting against the wall of the yard. She found out that contrary to our observations from yesteday, most of the women´s cells hold 5 each, and one person must sleep on the cold, cement floor, nearby the ¨bathroom¨ hole.

The children were fun today. Still aggresive, undisciplined, and a little on the dirty side, but are loving, happy, and interested in becoming friends (the way a 3-year-old wants to hold your hand, and consider you the best friend he has ever had, even though they call me ¨senorita¨ in lieu of pronouncing ¨Marci¨). I played airplane and tossed a few in the air a few times, finding that every, single child needed to be tossed as well (my back was thrilled). I can tell their education level is low, as many of them do not know their colors (even the eldest), do not know numbers, and do not know a lot of words. When I ask what something is, just to get the word out, they reply that they do not know. However, I am learning a new vocabulary from working with them, like ¨be nice¨, ¨don´t bite¨, ¨¨stop hitting¨, and of course, ¨no more piggy-back rides¨. Tomorrow is a Christmas party we will throw for the kids. It is complete with cookies baked tonight (they don´t sell chocolate chips in this city...we had to break up chocolate bars) and another volunteer costumed as Santa. I am excited, and you should be too (because you will undoubtedly read all about it).

We also ventured to see the excavated city of the Wari (the Wari ruins) and the nearby city of Quinoa (and yes, the grain comes from here), where the Spanish and Peruvians fought the final battle for Peru´s independence. They were absolutely beautiful, and made me think, for almost the first time since I arrived in Peru, that I found two spots that my father would have really loved to see. I stood before the monument in Quinoa and thought of my dad, and all I could do was allow my glance to move from the monument to each spot where the clouds met the lush Andes surrounding me.

And, you will be glad ot know that I signed up for a llama trek this weekend. That´s right...I will spend Christmas/Hannukah at 6000 feet, and will seriously have to debate bringing the disposable menorah that my mother threw into my backpack. Just kidding...I might have to save that for second night of Hannukah, otherwise known as Sunday night.

I hope all is well for today. Return soon...