Mosqoy Update 1:


¡Buenas Tardes!

Well, I feel like I've been here a lot longer than two weeks. The beginning was definitely rough, as it always is for me health-wise, and as I think is natural when returning to an old place that feels new. I woke up this morning in Ollantaytambo to a turkey walking on my roof, gobbling before the sun rose, thus provoking the rooster to begin its morning crow in dark confusion. That's been the routine since my arrival.

A few things I forgot about life in Peru: 1) Planning more than one meeting per day is too much to fit in. An hour is really three. 2) The toilets rarely have seats, as it's customary to hover. 3) Toilet paper goes in the overflowing garbage beside you, not in the toilet. 4) The amount of people asking if I want a "masaje, lady? Manicure, pedicure, waxing?" each time I enter Cusco's main plaza seems like it has tripled. 5) My favorite mountain, Pinkulluna, is still here, with its goats, its ruins, and the most tranquil vista in all of the world.

My greeting from the students after picking me up from the airport (after a two-year hiatus!) was humbling. They had hung a big home-made banner welcoming me to their house and had bought two huge cakes with my name on them. When in Cusco, I am living in the upstairs house, directly above them, so it's been fun to get to know each of them on a more personal level. I picked up two other Mosqoy volunteers from the airport last week; Gerry Luton is an English as a Second Language (ESL) teacher from UVic who is here for two months to tutor the Mosqoy students. He also has the hope that he will be the first of many UVic English teachers who will come down every year. Zaya Kadyrova, the other volunteer, works for Education Generation -- one of our partner projects in Vancouver, BC, which is helping to fund 10 of our students. She is here to document how the Mosqoy program is running on the ground, to interview the students and get to know them better, and to work with me to create an annual fellowship program for volunteers to work with Mosqoy on the ground.

Since arriving, many students have pulled me aside to confide in me about problems they're having in the house or with their studies, or to vent about their family situations. I guess my visit has been too long-awaited. One of the students - who had written me a letter a couple of months ago regarding his family situation - is having a lot of trouble keeping focused on his studies because of the situation at home. He lives in the community of Mandolista, which is just outside of Ollantaytambo, and which was formed by his family and three others only 15 years ago, when they got kicked out of their homes due to overdue property tax; they thus hiked up to what is now Mandolista and pitched a tent on the side of the mountain. Now there are 80 families living there, with slightly greater development than tents. The student's father is an alcoholic who comes home drunk and violent each night. His mother ran away to the jungle three years ago because she couldn't deal with it anymore. Now, his three younger sisters are in the house with his father, and he feels responsible for anything bad that happens to them while he is away in Cusco studying. He returns home every weekend, with the money he has earned from his after-school job, to make sure everything is ok and to support his sisters. He's graduating this December - and his sisters will soon be in the running for the Mosqoy program.

On a brighter note, through conducting one-on-one interviews with each student, we have found out a lot regarding their plans after they graduate, in their future, and how they want to give back to their community. Two of the boys from Mosqoy 2 (Ivannoe and Jonathan) have already created a business plan. They have received permission from Ivannoe's grandfather to build an eco-lodge on his property in Santa Theresa, on a back-route to Machu Picchu. They are going to lead programs there and host tour groups while explaining about the cultural and ecological integrity of the Sacred Valley. Another student, Dora, from Mosqoy 2, has a very specific step-by-step plan, with the eventual goal of becoming the first female mayor of Ollantaytambo! Her knowledge of how to go about doing that, as well as her charismatic way of speaking, makes me think she could actually do it. Now that's something that the politics here could use: a Mosqoy alumna as mayor!

Just before I arrived in Peru, we secured funding and finalized two part-time positions for a male and female Resident Advisor to live with the students in the house. I think this will be ground-breaking for Mosqoy, communication-wise, and will relieve my sensation of feeling like an absent mother to 25 18-year-olds who are living in a city for the first time in their lives. We are selecting these two advisors from Mosqoy 1 students who will be graduating this December. I'll keep you posted after the applications are handed in.

We are also selecting 12 new students for the third generation of Mosqoy, who will graduate from high school this December and begin their studies with Mosqoy next September 2010. We are branching out to not only work with the Ollantaytambo high school, but to also discuss the possibility of working with one of the poorest communities in the region, Soqma, high up in the mountains in the Ollantay district. There are two or three girls graduating this year from the community who have had to travel every day to Urubamba, where the nearest high school is. It's a couple hours trip, one-way, on the back of a cattle truck plus a few more transfers.

We were supposed to go to Soqma again today to talk with the parents of the community, but I woke up sick, with a pounding headache, bad stomach, weak body, and sore throat. I hope it's just a cold, as the H1N1 flu virus is definitely prevalent here. But I am taking the day off and will head to the médico if it persists. In the meantime, I'm enjoying lots of Mate de Coca, oranges, and granadillas.

An update regarding my Q'ente Society work (with the textiles project) will follow shortly. Too much has happened in two weeks to fit into one email!

Hope everyone's well back in Canada (or wherever you are!). I'm missing you.

Love, Ash

Back to top

Mosqoy Update 2:


Hola del navel del Valle Sagrado!

Well, I've just now gotten around to writing part two of last week´s update. So now I'm a couple of weeks behind. Don't worry, I won`t even get into this week yet! As of this morning, I'm feeling much better. I was out solid for three days with something that was not the Swine Flu, and then had an intense bout of food poisoning, canceling one of my most prized trips. In addition, as I was recouping, I got in a minor car accident as my taxista was trying to turn left while another taxi was passing on our left. It smashed into our side and jolted my back quite a bit, but we were very very lucky that it wasn't half a second earlier, as it was just a scrape.

On a personal note, it's wonderful to be back in Ollantaytambo and the surrounding communities, visiting my close friends and the families who have taken me in over the years. In Ollantay, I stay with Lourdes and her three children - Ruby, Ruben, and Nelson - possibly the sweetest children I've ever met. It's good to feel like home when I'm with them. And to feel so utterly needed. And I've finally had time to catch up with my close friends, Raul and Kenner, and my other Peruvian mama, Adela.

It was actually a good thing that I got so sick, because it forced me to go to the Ollantaytambo Health Clinic, where they gave me an electrocardiogram and a few other tests, and where I met Dr. Arnaldo. After learning about Mosqoy, he encouraged a partnership between us and the clinic, for our students who want to be health professionals. In the campesino villages and towns like Ollantaytambo, doctors and health professionals are in such demand because, unlike in Canada, they do not receive benefits or a salary any better than a waitress. Because of this, doctors like Arnaldo hasn't had a vacation in eight years. So, Arnaldo and I decided to create a partnership to promote more health professionals - in dire need in the district - through setting up practicums and job placements with the graduating Mosqoy students in the Ollantaytambo health clinic. In addition to this, it is apparently challenging to reach those who live in the rural textiles communities because they do not want to make the trip into Ollantaytambo, for reasons of both discrimination and economic shortages. On another note, Dr. Arnaldo sees so many young babies who are very sick due to exposure to cold Andean weather without proper clothing. So he asked if Q'ente could supply little knitted or woven baby clothes as presents; each campesino mother who comes to the clinic would receive one baby outfit. This would both entice the mothers to get their own health checked while ensuring less infantile illness and death. We are going to look into how we could supply these clothes, finance-wise.

On the Q'ente Society terrain, things have been incredibly productive. A quick rendition for those of you who are a little behind: The Q'ente Textile Revitalization Society is the new name for the Colibri Project, the textiles project that I started up in 2006. Our goal is to revitalize the textiles tradition as a means to preserve the Quechua culture, language, and art. We do this by connecting with the many grassroots organizations and traditional textile communities in the Andean region, and sell fair-trade products in Canada, along with educational stories and explanations about the importance of traditional ecological knowledge. Our goal is to create a network across the entire Quechua weaving region of subsistence communities, to be able to support them both economically and culturally, and to act as an alternative to the non-fair-trade tourist markets. While revitalizing the tradition and culture, we also aim to help with this impoverished region's social development. We do this by creating a reciprocal circle of costs, quadrupling the cost of each textile and splitting the profits as such: 1/4 goes directly to the weaver; 1/4 goes to the community or organization the weaver is a part of, who, as a group, decides what they want their profit to go (ie. to buy a loom, to build a school, etc.); 1/4 goes to Mosqoy: Sacred Valley Youth Fund; and 1/4 goes back into the Q'ente Society to pay for shipping and handling, and to restart and escalate the cycle, buying a larger amount of textiles from even more communities.

A couple of weeks ago, I visited Amaru, which is a community 40 kilometres directly above Pisac, one of the largest markets in the Sacred Valley. Amaru is a beautiful community of sustainable farmers, weavers, and innovative development project, with whom we've been working for almost three years now. It was wonderful to return, and always humbling, as the weavers there - who own virtually nothing - ordain me with fresh rose petals, tears, and thank yous. They also cooked us an amazing vegetarian feast (as they remembered that I didn't eat their abundant stock of guinea pig last year!). We discussed where the Q'ente profit was to be going this year, and they all decided that they wanted to use it towards the construction of compostable toilets and better kitchens (which release the stove smoke through the roof, instead of in the women's lungs) - for all 200 families of the Amaru community! Gregorio, the weaving association's director, drew me a diagram of their plans, to begin in April, when I return and after they receive their portion of our Q'ente profit.

I also had a meeting with Franco, the director of Casa Ecologica, another one of our partners, and it was so inspiring. Through this meeting, I mapped out the vast array of communities we are working with, and realized how large the area actually is. Not only are we beginning to cover all of the Sacred Valley, but also a little bit of the Ausangate region and the Mapacho River Valley. I have yet to even visit the communities in the jungle region of the Mapacho River Valley, where - in my opinion - the best weavings are from. I'm hoping to take the trip in the next couple of weeks. It's a place completely off the grid, with no lights, power, cars, or communication.

Franco and I discussed where the Casa Ecologica portion of the Q'ente profit will go this year, and we decided to create a joint project to be able to aid all of the Casa Ecologica communities (they work with about 15 communities in three different regions). This year, we decided to hire an optometrist to visit all of the weaving communities and test the weavers' eyesight. (Blindness and deteriorating sight is an increasingly common problem in the textile communities because of their long hours with such fine work.) After testing each weaver's eyesight, we will use the profit to buy eyeglasses for all of the weavers who need them. As a long-term project, after this one-time project is completed next year, we are going to invest all of the Q'ente profit (of their organization) to a reforestation project across the valley. This is not only desperately needed for the increasingly depleted environment, but also will directly assist the families and weavers, for their natural plant dyes and stove fires.

Awamaki (the new version of CATCCO), our weaving partner in Ollantaytambo who works with the Patakancha Valley, is doing very well and creating such wonderful social services for the people of Patakancha. Because both Q'ente and Awamaki are in need of naturally dyed wool and are interested in educating about the process of plant and cochineal bug dyes, we've decided to join forces to create a collaborative Textile Dye Project. Katie Larone, one of Mosqoy's volunteers who is coming for three months in October, will begin this project by working with the Patakancha weavers to plant and maintain a dye garden. She (and all consecutive Mosqoy/Q'ente volunteers) will then be in charge of learning to dye the wool with natural processes and production methods, then ball it for sales in Canada. We are also creating dye kits, which will include all of the ingredients, mordents, and instructions to sell. Our main reason for this project is that, while we have a high demand for naturally dyed wool in Canada and while we want to promote and educate about this important process, the weavers here do not have the time to invest in dyeing such vast amounts simply to sell. The process is so extensive in and of itself that the rare dyeing ceremonies (only a few times per year) are strictly for the weavers' and communities' personal use. However, the dye garden and lessons for Q'ente volunteers will ensure that natural dyes will continue to be used, and will encourage this as an outlet instead of synthetic dyes. The issue is that those who sell weavings in the cheap tourist markets cannot sell natural wools and dyes for more money than synthetic products, because tourists don't value the added work and value invested in the process; thus, many weavers are economically forced to turn to synthetic alternatives.

Ok, I didn't even get to the best part of all - a connection with two amazing projects near Huaran, and the selection process of the students of Mosqoy 3. I will have to tell you later. For now, I must be off to eat one of my homemade corn tortillas before leaving for a two-day trip to Lares with all 25 of my Mosqoy students!!

Thank you for all your notes back - I love hearing from you.

Con mucho cariño,
Ash
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 3:


Half way through my 2009 journey!

Before going any further, if you want more details on anything involving Mosqoy, or want to see some pictures of my time here, Zaya (the first Education Generation fellow) has been documenting the whole process on her blog: edgenfellow.blogspot.com. So you can check that out while waiting for me to catch up on my crazy Peruvian life! I'm about two weeks behind in updates.

Secondly, to relieve some worries, I want you to know that I am now healthy and have had eight full days of health (not consecutive) since my arrival in August! It was not the Swine Flu, and after several days of recuperation, I was back on my feet.

We just finished the first phase of the selection process for Mosqoy 3, the third generation of Mosqoy students. These students are in the equivalent of grade 12, to graduate this December. After working as a group with Mosqoy for eight months in Ollantaytambo, those who are selected will enter our program in Cusco in August 2010. These students are either from the town of Ollantaytambo, the campesino villages in the Ollantaytambo district, or the small pueblo of Soqma (above Pachar).

74 students applied to the Mosqoy program this year, out of 77 who are in the graduating class. Raul and I, with our selection team of five experienced and dedicated students from Mosqoy’s first group (Ebhert, Erlinda, Elvira, Rolando, and Adrian), evaluated all 74 applications, spending breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the same seats in my friend’s café in Ollantaytambo. For the pre-selection, we cut the number down to 30 students. For this first decision-making process, we evaluated their applications, career ideas, visions for how to improve their communities, school marks, and advice from the school principal, teachers, and other community members. The next phase is to investigate if any of these students have other financial means of obtaining an education in Cusco. If so, they will be lower priority than those who are the poorest of the poor. In the end, we will select 13 students for the 2010 enrolment, with five on the waiting list.

It was a chore to get through all of the applications, not only because of the number, but because many were personal and heartbreaking. Alcoholism is so abundant in the Sacred Valley. Almost every mother experiences abuse because of it, and almost every child experiences either abandonment, violence, or child labour because of it. About ¾ of the students who applied shared a similar story. Also, many have already lost at least one parent due to either lung or heart problems, or because of a simple illness like appendicitis that could easily be cured but, due to a lack of free health care and economic affluence, they just had to wait it out rather than get an operation.

A couple of the students want to be journalists and lawyers to deal with these situations. Another wants to study in a sports institute, to become a coach and establish a children’s program for those who need an outside mentor and a means of having ‘play’ in their childhood. Another admitted that she is suicidal due to her family situation, and somehow needs to escape. That is a whole other story of how to handle that situation.

I feel a little overwhelmed because every one of these students deserves an education and a means to a better life, but as always, we can only help a limited number. It hurts to know that, for some students who we decline, we were their only hope. And they will soon, at age 17, become mothers of many babies, and potentially continue the cycle of alcoholism, poverty, and cultural loss.

Also, every day I encounter another person who pleads to me that their community, or their child, or their girlfriend deserves a chance to be in our program and that we are not being fair. I cannot take the bus or walk down the street in town without someone stopping me. I have learned to put on a hard hat when being confronted by these pleas, as I am far too sensitive. In Ollantaytambo, we are never doing enough because we are only helping 10-15 of the 80 students each year. In the Sacred Valley as a whole, we aren’t doing enough because we are only helping the district of Ollantaytambo. And in Canada and online, I hear that we aren’t doing enough because “Why aren’t you helping Colombia, or India, or…??” Poco a poco, I tell myself.

Yesterday, we hosted a meeting with all of the pre-selected students and a parental representative of each. All were obligated to attend, and to bring a guardian of some sort. Without a good excuse of their absence, they were to be cut. We held the meeting in the soccer field and were pleasantly surprised to see over 60 people there, waiting for us. On time! (Seriously, with Peruana Hora, this is impressive.) 26 of the students attended, with either a mother, father, godparent, brother, or foster parent by their side - all of whom had to trek quite a ways to get there.

Due to some problems we’ve had and lessons we've learned from past groups, we now have a strict contract that must be signed by both the student and a guardian. Because many of the parents are illiterate and cannot speak Spanish, we went through the contract rule-by-rule with everyone. The rules covered the students’ behaviour while in Cusco, their dedication to the program, liability issues, their commitment to volunteering and giving back to Mosqoy after they graduate, etc. In the end, each student/guardian pair handed back the contract, complete with signatures and initials. I felt so relieved carrying those completed contracts away from the meeting. For three years, I have felt like a mother, solely responsible for 25 campesino students in the big city of Cusco. Ahhh. I can breathe a little now.

The meeting was not only crucial to see the commitment of the families and the excitement of the town itself, but to also begin evaluating the financial well-being of each student (ie. if his/her mother is a campesino woman, if they are orphans, etc.). After the meeting, we were invited to many of the parents’ houses, and thanked individually by each parent who wanted to share some story or another. Next week, we are having another meeting (well, to be honest, it’s more of a fiesta!) with all students and parents of Mosqoy 1, 2, and 3.

Next week, we will have to make our final decision, then fundraise like crazy to get these new students through school. Time is ticking!

More to come… must go trek to a new textile community who wants to partner with Q’ente. Four hours up, then four hours back down. To the top of the mountain above Huaran.

Love, Ash
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 4:


Wow. Everyday now, there's something amazing - some new connection, old connection, a beautiful smile because of what we're doing, an innovative idea - something that makes me so inspired (and exhausted) by the time I get to bed each night. I have realized that 3 weeks is the time my body needs to fully get accustomed to life here. Yes, a little too long, but now I feel content, healthy, settled, and like I'm where I'm supposed to be. And reminded why I'm working hard to try to do what I am doing.

The Q'ente Society projects have skyrocketed. I am invited to attend meetings at the rate of one new community a day and now have to say 'not till next time' because my time here is dwindling fast. Before I go any further, meetings down here are not like meetings up there. They involve approximately 2 hours in the combi, then often a three-hour trek uphill, then a long wait while trying to organize everyone in a place where 'time' - unlike in the English language - is not the most used noun. Finally, sometimes I complete all these steps only to realize that the meeting has actually been silently postponed until the next day. Thus, for each meeting, two days of flexibility are needed. That being said, meetings here are much more fun than executive board meetings in Canada!

My most recent array of meetings transpired in a place called Huaran. It is this beautiful little community on the road between Cusco and Urubamba, near Calca. While it is on the main drag, it is so small and unnoticable that locals driving from Calca question where I need to go when I ask them to take me to Huaran. Once, my head bobbled to sleep for less than a minute on the bus and I thus missed my stop in Huaran. This town is a breath of fresh air in the midst of the deserted Andean mountain range, as it has a glacial river running through it and lush greenery: something I hadn't seen for awhile.

I first went to Huaran to have a 'meeting' with K'anchay Wasi (meaning House of Light in Quechua), an organization that we have long wanted to collaborate with. K'anchay Wasi is a group of battered women and children who are learning to knit and weave as a means of gaining financial independence from their abusive husbands. But more than that, it has become a support group and a shelter that offers weekly psychology services and workshops in yoga, nutrition, business, computers, etc. to help the women support their families both mentally and financially.

Two years ago, Lily, the director of K'anchay Wasi, offered to help Mosqoy by giving our students sexual education classes as they enter the city of Cusco for the first time. She is still willing to continue doing so each year and also wants to help our graduating students with career preparation courses, teaching them how to build a resume, conduct themselves in an interview, and look for employment. We're so grateful that she is so supportive of Mosqoy, but have been aching for a way to give back...

We would love to support the women of K'anchay Wasi by selling their products as a part of the Q'ente Society, but the dilemma is that they do not weave traditionally - they only knit modern products such as sweaters and leg-warmers with synthetic wools and dyes, so they don't fall under our mandate. However, they want to learn how to weave and they desperately want to be a part of Q'ente. So we all decided to begin with traditional guantes (or alpaca gloves), which they will learn from a teacher who is a part of their group. Then, with their portion of the profit, they will hire weaving instructors to poco a poco learn more advanced techniques, slowly gaining capital for their association. This will not only help them financially, but it will also encourage the continuation of the textiles tradition, by teaching young women in a community where the tradition and language is almost completely lost.

I also met with K'anchay Wasi Calca, the same support network, but in the community of Calca. Two of these women are fabulous weavers while the others sew or make macrame and other modern products. After introducing them to Q'ente's ideas, they thought of an innovative way of participating; the two weavers in the group will weave large mantas and the rest of the women, with their sewing abilities, will convert their weavings into wallets, purses, vests, etc., thus making each item as a group. They will prepare examples of each of their new products for my return visit in March.

The Kanchay Wasi meetings were incredibly inspiring, but bittersweet. The women of K'anchay Wasi, aged 19-45, have an incredible positive energy stirring about their group and I immediately felt such a strong connection, as they are all around my age with the same dreams and potential. But at the same time it is hard to see how many women there are in this small community who need this type of support, and to see, underneath their beautiful smiles, the scars that are on their faces and bodies, and in their eyes. Beginning in 2011, we're hoping to expand Mosqoy's education fund to reach more communities of the Sacred Valley, and would love to be able to sponsor two young women from K'anchay Wasi per year.

While visiting K'anchay Wasi, some other women in the community heard that I was there, which led me to not only connect with them but also to connect with yet another community who then found out that I was talking to that community.

Kancha Kancha, which is about a four-hour walk directly up the mountains from Huaran, through the narrow valley sandwiched between two massive snowy peaks, is a community of about 50 families who live in traditional one-room rock and thatched-roof houses. Here, there is a group of 13 weavers who trek back and forth to Huaran everyday to sell their weavings to make sure their kids get an education. At five years old, the kids are flying through this four-hour one-way hike to school. The Kancha Kancha calves (legs, not cows) are unreal.

This weaving association from Kancha Kancha is now a new partner of ours, and wishes to spend its portion of our profits to purchase alpacas, as the community can only afford to buy wool from others at the moment. Right now, there are about five women who are excited about the project while the rest of the community is skeptical; they see me as yet another tourist who wants to extract and exploit their knowledge, and buy their weavings for my own gain. It always takes time to gain that trust, understandably, and to prove that this is not yet another cycle of what they have experienced over and over again in the past. I am so excited to bring them their first portion of donations in March after we sell their first few weavings this fall, to begin building that trust... and to go with them to buy their first new alpaca!

While waiting a day and a half for this nine-hour meeting to transpire, I met the wonderful woman, Frida, who lives in Huaran and acts as the community grandmother. She took me in and fed me bread, canchita, and freshly picked mate de yerba buena. We talked about all her plans to save the environment and to help all the little kids who kept knocking on her door, asking if she wanted some company. Through her, I met the weaving association of Huaran, which is another group of 13 men and women who are learning how to weave from their elders in the more traditional communities. Their association is called Munay Rupi de Huaran. Their weavings are not yet at the quality we are looking for, but they are willing to work for four months to learn the trade a little better and to produce something that they can sell for more money and pride, rather than for simply a quick purchase. I told them that, depending on their improvement, they can be a part of Q'ente. They were overwhelmingly gracious and excited about the potential. We hung out all day in the sunshine, on the side of the road in the dirt, weaving, laughing, drawing maps, and eating corn.

Huaran is just one district of many, but within the last three weeks, it has become a huge part of my heart, and I feel like I have been taken in by so many people there. It reminds me of Ollantaytambo with its magic.

I now must be off to a meeting with all of Mosqoy's three generations of students and parents! Approximately 80 people! Must first buy a big torta for all!

Un gran abrazo!

Ash 'Fresa' Akins
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 5:


A refreshing breath of fresh Pacific Ocean! Aahhh...

Half-way through my stay, I decided to treat myself to a quick three-day vacation, to rejuvenate my energy and to see a part of Peru that I had never visited in my three years of working here. So, before Zaya headed back to Canada, we headed for the coast on a 16-hour overnight bus ride and visited the Nazca Lines, Huacachino, Paracas National Park, and the Islas Ballestas.

Yes, it was only three days, but it was a wonderful weekend adventure, and a well-needed break. I had always thought the half-hour Nazca flight was not worth the money, but after three years, being so close to such a phenomenon, I thought it was about time I saw what all the ruckus was about. The Lignas Nasca are huge (50-300 meter) figures, perfectly measured and parallel, embedded into the desert clay near the Pacific Coast of Peru. Nobody knows how they got there, and for years (until I believe the 1970s), nobody even knew they were there because they are too large to view from the ground. They even paved the Panamerican Highway right through the lizard! From the little plane, it was very hard to judge perspective of size, but it was like a scavenger hunt, trying to spot the monkey, astronaut, hummingbird, condor, tree, etc. as we flew over them. They look just like the online photos and memorabilia.

Huacachino was my favorite part of our little vacation - a little desert oasis near Ica, which was originally a resort surrounded by a lagoon and palm trees, but has since been converted into a town of maybe 20 people with tour agencies, restaurants, and dune buggies. Overlooking Huacachino is 50 kilometers of sand-dunes - absolutely surreal. I have never seen real dunes such as those before in my life. We rented a dune-buggy, plowed through the miles of hot sun-soaked sand, and sandboarded - on our bellies, head first - straight down the steepest dunes we could find. Digging your shoes into the sand is supposed to act as a brake, but I had only brought sandals, so I couldn't brake without completely scalding my feet. Instead, my only choice was to go full-force and let the board guide my path. The next day I woke up with speckled black bruises all the way down my torso, pelvis, and thighs, but it was well worth it. It was incredible to be in the middle of something that looked like the Pacific Ocean, yet filled with sand. Feeling like there is no way out.

We also took a tour to the Islas Ballestas where we saw penguins and thousands of other birds who have completely taken over the islands. We then snuck into Paracas National Park, which was an entire clay desert, where not even the smallest shrub or tiniest animal was in sight. It felt like the setting of La Petit Prince. It was odd to see a national park preserving what seemed to be kilometers of nothing, when I'm so used to dense forests, mammals, and ocean representing 'park'.

We concluded our stay by touring some Bodegas (wineries) where they make the famous Pisco and Pisco Sour, ate our allotment of fruit pancakes, smoothies, and other fresh things that we couldn't get in the Andes, and spent far too long on overnight buses, lucky that we were the only two of all of our friends we met along the way who didn't get anything stolen.

The mentality on the Peruvian coast is so different than up here in the mountains. The color 'red' is no longer depictive of their personality, as they are laid back, friendly, and trusting. They party with acoustic guitars and cajones into the wee hours of the morning, with cerviche and shishkabobs in one hand and pisco in the other. It was a breath of fresh air (literally - I could breathe on sea level again!) to feel the ocean breeze, and to meet people who possess the coastal personality I have been craving. I felt a little dose of home. It's funny how, no matter how north or south you are, communities on the Pacific Ocean feel like communities on the Pacific.

But this vast change in personality and lifestyle, not far from where I work up here, also reminded me of the hardship that is endured in the mountains - how much more challenging even a piece of fresh fruit or a meal without a potato is to obtain, or to find clothing warm enough to cover their small babies' bodies. No wonder their 'red' personalities (as they say) match their rough Andean skin and stunted growth, enduring for centuries on their own in a place that was not made for the light-hearted.

I am now back, have been for about a week, and will soon catch you up on the chaos of work that has been unraveling. It's nice to be back.

Love, Ash
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 6:


Hello once again!

Well, some exciting news: we’ve decided that our goal of bringing a Mosqoy student to Canada to study English at UVic needs to begin this January! The 18 students who will be graduating this December, Mosqoy’s first group, are some of the most amazing kids I know, with innovative visions of how their careers can help their communities. I am going to miss them terribly when they graduate, as will Mosqoy if they do not stay in the program as volunteers or employees. Though we wanted to start the Mosqoy student exchange to Canada next school year (2011) due to funding requirements, I realized this would be too late for the Mosqoy 1 students.

UVic’s English Language Centre is completely on board and has waived all tuition fees for the three-month program, committing to continuing this support for two Mosqoy students per year. Also, I was granted a community fellowship with the BC Institute for Co-operative Studies to do research with Mosqoy and Q’ente in Victoria for the months of January and February, so I can dedicate my full time and energy to the projects (for the first time in my life!). Thus, this new year is a perfect time to begin such an endeavour.

2009-2010 is Mosqoy’s transition year – from its birth as a tiny project, to the last two years of ridiculous chaos as it grew into something grander, and now hopefully to sustainability, truly getting it on the ground long-term to make a positive impact for decades to come. We are well on our way. Thus, we feel like this is the time to bring a Mosqoy Student Ambassador to Victoria. The purpose would not only be to study English, but to attend our events, to actually see what Mosqoy is doing up in Canada, to meet sponsors and give lectures, and to put a face to a program towards which so many people have dedicated invaluable time, energy, and money.

As of Monday, we have selected Rolando Auccapuri Paucar as the first Mosqoy Ambassador to come to Canada this January! (That is, if his visa goes through and if we can raise the funds.) He is an amazing young man who is studying to be a professional tour guide, with the vision of opening a Mosqoy Cultural Community Center in Ollantaytambo to educate both tourists and locals about cultural traditions and Quechua lifestyles, while offering sustainability tours. He grew up in the small agricultural community of Pachar, where he returns every weekend to help his mother care for Robert, his 12-year-old brother with Down’s Syndrome. His extended family collectively owns a chakra where they raise corn, potatoes, and guinea pigs. They live in a two-room adobe house with dirt floors, an outdoor glacier-water faucet that acts as a shower, and a hole in the ground that is their bathroom. Rolando is one of the best leaders in Mosqoy and has an addictive charismatic personality. I think he would be an amazing extension of Mosqoy in Canada, and his experience would give him such an enthusiastic start to the vision he has to help his community, family, and Mosqoy, upon his return.

In order to get Rolando to Canada by January, we have to fundraise FAST – and the money cannot come from within Mosqoy, as that is barely holding on to sponsor our current students’ education. Rolando has a part-time job, where he works each day after his classes. He is saving every Peruvian Sol he can, as are his four brothers and sisters. UVic has waived all of their fees. So, now we are looking for a generous family to welcome Rolando as a home-stay student, as well as about $2000 in grants and donations for the flight and expenses. PLEASE, if you know of anyone who can help with either the home-stay or donations, please forward them this email, or let me know as soon as possible. I think there are enough people willing to help to make this happen. (Theoretically, if everyone on this list threw in 20 bucks, we would be good to go!)

Below is a call-out for a home-stay family, written by UVic’s English Language Centre, in case you are interested in reading more.

Thanks so much for passing on the message and for all your support!

Love, Ash
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 7:


Hi all -

I knew there was a reason I have been dying to visit the Rio Mapacho Valley. I have worked with the weavers from Bombom, Pitukiska, and Parobamba for three years, through our partner project, Casa Ecologica, and their textiles have always been my favorites. But I had never made the trip deep into the river valley. This remote valley is the final dip in the Andes, before hitting the Manu jungle. There’s no electricity or lights, and few cars and gringos.

A new Q’ente volunteer, Katie Larone, arrived last week and I threw her right into boiling water, doggy-paddling up to her neck, as I brought her along to observe Q’ente’s work in the Rio Mapacho. She was not yet accustomed to the altitude or the lack of non-potato variety in her meals. She was also not yet used to the fact that, de verdad, things never go as planned.

We were to presumably meet Jesus, with two horses, in Bombom after making our way to Paucartambo and Chimor. However, the carretera to Paucartambo was under construction, so our bus stalled behind a large hole for many hours in the middle of nowhere. Thus, we didn’t make it to Bombom that night. Not only did we miss a labour-intensive vegetarian meal prepared for us (after the community heard over the radio that we were coming), but we also never found Jesus or our horses again. We were now on our own, with heavy packs and no map, for three days.

My goals of this trek were to see where my favourite weavings come from, to photograph and document each community and weaver, and to introduce the joint project that Casa Ecologica and Q’ente have proposed for the Rio Mapacho communities’ second portion of their profit (the hiring of an optometrist to come to each community, test the weavers’ eyesight, and provide eyeglasses for all those who need it, as described in a previous email). Also, I wanted to discuss the possibility of working directly with the communities in the future.

Bombomis a community of 72 people set in the heart of the Mapacho River Valley. Above it actually. It sits at the tip of a mountain, above the clouds, and overlooks the entire valley for miles. The scenery is intense. The weavers were thrilled with the eyeglasses project, as many of them have already seen drastic declines in their eyesight. They also requested that we bring a doctor and medicine to help their problematic spines and necks.

From Bombom to Pitukiska, we jumped into the back of a camion, where we sat atop sacks of corn, to speed up our journey. Then, on our walk from the carretera into the deserted mountains, we found Rosalia, owner of a little rock hut and a couple of pigs, whose husband has been hospitalized in Cusco for 12 days and counting, awaiting an analysis from a neurologist. He probably needs an emergency brain operation, but they can’t even pay for the analysis yet (700 soles). Katie and I purchased 110 soles worth of her textiles to help cover the cost.

We stumbled upon Pitukiska just as the fog had blinded the entire valley. The village consists of a few rock and thatched-roof homes, with maybe 30 people. We were served delicious oca, papa, and mate in the pitch-black kitchen, before heading to bed at 7:30 pm (yes, that is when the sun goes to bed!), where we shared a single bed that was offered to us. In the morning, we held a meeting with all of the weavers. “…And then we quadruple the price that we buy it for here, to sell in Canada…” I paused for the Quechua translation. The women started shaking their heads and throwing their fists, screaming “mana, mana.” No. No. I cut them off with my own share of “manas” to explain the exact break-down of the profits, the fact that we do not make any of this money for ourselves, and to announce the details of our eyeglasses project proposal. “Ari, Ari.” Yes. Yes. Their anger quickly switched to smiles and excitement.

Next was our hike from Pitukiska to Parobamba, a long rocky expedition to the end of the valley. Here is where everything became worth it. Almost immediately I felt like I had finally found home. Parobamba is a tad more modern, meaning that it’s home to one public telephone, some Spanish speakers, and non-traditional outfits. Approximately 150 people live here, all of whom have a bizarrely positive demeanor and contagious personality. There is an abundance of children, who followed us around like shadows. And there is also another abundance of children who die every year from pneumonia. Parobamba produces the most amazing textiles I have ever seen in my life. Intricate designs, hundreds of colors from natural plant dyes, fine alpaca thread, and perfectly symmetrical lines. That evening, we were invited into the mayor’s house where we toasted bread and made guacamole for the women and children. I could live here.

I soon learned that this town is furious with Casa Ecologica, its only market for textile sales, because they work on commission and sometimes do not sell Parobamba’s products for two or three years. Thus, the weaving association in Parobamba is beginning to stop weaving altogether, as they have nowhere to sell their products.

I also learned that Parobamba is home to a rich copper resource. A Canadian mining company is currently doing studies in the area, wishing to exploit the entire region for a large copper-mine project. I arrived on a Saturday. Their town’s vote was on Sunday. Would they accept the mine?

I couldn’t believe that this amazing town, in possibly the most remote, virgin valley of the Quechua region, could be seeing the last of its good days. I explained a few of the long-term environmental impacts that this mine could cause, while I translated Katie’s explanation of its potentially negative human-health impacts. Some town members want to vote against the mine, but those in the weaving association are all for it, because they have no other choice. The community has been offered thousands of dollars (though not nearly enough) and long-term employment to work in the mines.

I panicked and decided to ask if they wanted to work with Q’ente directly, even though that was not the plan. I explained how our program functions and asked if they would be willing to begin producing large quantities of weavings again. I told them that we couldn’t promise anything, and that it would be a slow progression each year, but that we would try our best.

Their faces didn’t flush with excitement, as in other villages. Instead, they became blank with relief. Their shoulders even relaxed a bit. They would do anything to try it out, they told me, and will hold off on the copper-mine vote to see if what we say we can do, we can actually do.

We then bought 800 soles worth of textiles from them to show our commitment, and I added to the stash with what I could afford from my personal money, to bring back as presents. That would hold them over for awhile.

We had completed our journey. Almost.

We waited for the Saturday car that never came (it apparently comes on Sundays), visited all of the children’s houses and dye gardens, and eventually had no choice but to walk out of the town with all of our luggage, filled with about 65 pounds of textiles each. We were assisted by three of the weavers and their children for the uphill three-hour portion of the hike, just because they felt like coming along. And then we were on our own for another three hours to somehow make it back to Amparais (they pointed us in its general direction through the mountain range). That is, before the cold chilled our bones, the fog blinded the carretera, and the last combi left for the night to take us back to the Sacred Valley.

We made it. And now all I want to do is run back to Parobamba as soon as I can share some good news.

-Ash
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 8:


Greetings...from Canada!!

Thank you all so much for your support regarding Rolando's trip to Canada. We are working hard to try to pull that off for January and I will keep you posted on our progress.

I just returned to Canada a couple of days ago, in order to be a speaker at the Compassion2Action Global Citizenship Conference held today at the Langley Fine Arts School. As well, I just finished installing a large photography exhibit and silent auction, "Woven in Time: textiles and images of Peru" that opened yesterday in the Mary Pratt Gallery, in Fort Langley, BC. It will be open for one more week, until Oct. 30.

I still have a couple last Mosqoy/Q'ente updates to send you from Peru, and will do so within the next week. There's a few exciting last news items from my stay there, which I must fill you in on. Sorry for the delay!

In the meantime though, I would like to invite you to the "Woven in Time" closing reception, to be held next Friday, October 30th, at 7 pm, at the Mary Pratt Gallery, Langley Fine Arts School, Fort Langley, BC. At the reception, we will have the closing of the silent auction, photograph and textile fairs, live music, refreshments, and a little fiesta celebration. Proceeds benefit the Q'ente Society and its weaving communities. Please come, if you're in the area! And please spread the word!

Attached is the official invitation to the gallery and closing reception.

Hope to see you there!

Love, Ashley
Back to top

Mosqoy Update 9:


Hola otra vez!

First of all – thank you so much for all of your support for Rolando! We now have over $400 raised just from donations from you guys, as well as a generous offer for a home-stay in Victoria, free of charge! We have finalized the process of obtaining Rolando’s student visa and it is now in the Canadian embassy for final approval. I will keep you posted.

Also, news as of today – the Mosqoy group won the big Ollantaytambo dance festival! This was performed on Ollantaytambo’s anniversary, October 29th, after practicing over a month on "Mestizo Coyacha", their folkloric dance.

Over the past month, we spent most of our weekends visiting students' families in their campesino communities. These visits have been both fun and humbling for us to see where the kids come from. It’s also important to remember how different their Cusco life is, compared to their remote upbringings, which involve working on their chakras, helping their moms sell papa rellena for 13 cents each, and living in one-room adobe houses.

We visited Gisela Salcedo (from Mosqoy 1), who grew up in Phiry. Her mom fixed us mote con queso as we discussed an operation she was recovering from. Afterwards, Gisela’s dad, Señor Raul, over 70 years old and about 5’2” tall, proceeded to climb a ladder to their roof to grab his aro – a bicycle tire and wooden palito – one of the most common toys of the Andes. In his day, he was the town champion of aro racing (the objective: to guide the tire with the palito in a straight line while running as fast as you can). He was shockingly fast. The toothless smile of this proud champion was priceless as he kept asking me to take photos of him with his aro.

Ivannoe lives in Oconpata with his grandparents, as both of his parents abandoned him when he was born. Oconpata is a town made up of a row of military barracks, on the side of the road going into Ollantaytambo. It originally acted as an emergency shelter. Around 1990, there was a giant land-slide in Santa Theresa, behind Machu Picchu – where Ivannoe is from. The slide killed one entire family and destroyed everyone’s homes and farms in the town. After living in tents for months, international NGOs (including a Canadian organization) built Oconpata as a rescue ground for those who escaped. It is not flattering, but it does the job for over a hundred families.

We also visited the families of Elvira, Jonathan, Elsa, Rolando, Ebhert, Dina, Maberic, Enrique Huaman, and Gisela Vilches. In every town, no matter how small or poor, there was a perfectly manicured soccer field/stadium and a well-maintained church - apparently their two key ingredients to what makes a town a town.



We have also spent a lot of time reading and listening to the suggestions and criticisms of the Mosqoy students, to make sure we improve the program for next year. One of the primary concerns from the students is the lack of space in Casa Mosqoy (the house), which has caused some of the students to live with their aunts or cousins. Because of this, our immediate improvement will be to rent a larger house beginning in April, which is when the current contract runs out and before Mosqoy 3 enrolls in the program.

However, long-term, we have set out the plans to purchase land and construct our own Mosqoy house. Rent is just wasting money each month. If we could buy a house, this would eventually cut down the sponsorship money considerably and allow Mosqoy to become more sustainable.

Our plan entails purchasing a 200-square-metre piece of land near the centre of Cusco. All of the Mosqoy students, alumni, parents, and volunteers would spend half a year constructing the house with our own hands, rather than hiring out to do so. In total, we would need to raise about $70,000 for this project, and are hoping to do so by 2012, through large grants such as CIDA and the Gordon Foundation. Our vision includes a four- or five-level house with two bathrooms and a communal study area on each floor, two kitchens, a rooftop garden, and solar panels. It would be made of adobe, using traditional Incan/Spanish architectural designs, which would include a central outdoor courtyard and spiral outdoor staircase (this is the cheapest design to allot for the space we need, and is also the most culturally representative). The first floor would feature a Mosqoy office and a Q’ente Society textile store, both of which would be run by the Mosqoy students, on a rotational schedule, as a volunteer service. Then, each of the three upper floors would rotate for year 1, year 2, and year 3 students; each floor will consist of seven dorm rooms and one room for resident advisors and volunteers. It would have the capacity for 60 students annually (20 new students per year). No, it cannot be done right away, but the plan is at least in place with all of the students’ suggestions. I have tons of sketches. It would be AMAZING.



On a fun note, the students took us and the volunteers on an overnight trip to the Lares Thermal Baths, where we all camped and swam in the natural hotsprings high up in the Andes. The ride there, in the dark, on a sketchy one-way road with two-way traffic on the side of a 300-metre cliff, was a little too scary for me, especially feeling responsible for 17 students in the back of the van (even though THEY were the ones who took US! These kinds of roads are normal for them, but I wasn't prepared for it.). However, it ended up being such a wonderful bonding experience, and a well-deserved celebration for everyone in the program. Lots of laughter!

Keep posted on the Mosqoy Facebook group, as I think a lot of the Mosqoy students are adding their profiles to it, and will add some photos from the Lares trip.

Tupananchis Cama!

Ash
Back to top