Giving a Living to a Life in the Rainforests of Peru

Writing this last post, bundled up in our hostal in Lima, there are so many things that I would like to reflect upon about this experience and the things I have learned.  It was a really incredible and life-altering summer, as cliché as that may sound.  I feel changed as an individual and am coming away with a very different perspective about what it means to work with people to reduce poverty and what my personal role in this endeavor.  I have learned to see myself as a partner of the people I seek to help and to understand that I am benefiting just as much, if not more, than those I hope to aid.

All things considered, I think that the most important lesson I have taken from this trip has to do with the importance of building relationships with people we worked with.  I would venture to say that the friendships that we cultivated were the most valuable contribution that we made to the communities we were working in as well as the most memorable thing we are taking away from it all.  We had the special opportunity to not just donate money from afar or visit for only a few days but instead to live in solidarity with the people for a few months.  We were there for the sunny and rainy days, for when the electricity went out, for the political parades and festivals.  We got to cook with families, to take care of their babies, to help build roads and buildings.  We spent weeks sitting and talking with people of all ages and social backgrounds, learning about their lives and sharing our experiences from living and studying in the US.  During all of this we were working on the projects with Rainforest Partnership and Nourish as well, building and painting and planning, but the majority of our time was spent just getting to know the people and culture. As the weeks passed we became good friends with many people and found ourselves adopted lovingly into the communities.   When we finally left it was after days of tearful goodbyes and with little kids running behind our van into the dark.  Leaving the community was extremely sad and we left behind many good friends.

I think we went into this experience thinking of the people we were going to help as an amorphous mass of poor Peruvians, faceless examples of poverty waiting to be saved.  However we are leaving with the knowledge that within this tiny niche of the world exist many dynamic and special individuals who have distinct dreams, ideas, and traditions.  Yes, they are poor by some standards, but they are so, so much more than that.  They have a richness of life that we fall far short of in the US, in the care they have for each other, in their connections with the environment, in their traditions. I feel so lucky to be able to call these people my friends and I hope to be able to go back and share more with them in the near future.

This, however, brings me to a second point and something that has been pressing on my mind as I get ready to leave the country.  The issue is when, if ever, will I be able to come back here?  How can it be possible to grow so close to a community and then never in your life go back?  It seems crazy but it is surprisingly easy, as I have learned from some of my past travels.  I always leave with the intention or vague ‘maybe someday’ dream of going back again, however, so far I have yet to re-visit any of the places I’ve gone.  This is something that I really want to change starting this trip.  I am going to really try to go back this time.  The good thing is that I have an extra incentive because I completed my thesis research here and would like to share it with the people I worked with and to use it together to work towards bettering the community.  There is also the possibility of returning to follow-up my research as a part of my graduate studies or working with a non-profit.  I am starting to explore these possibilities now while everything is still fresh in my mind and I am still close with the people in Chazuta and Chipaota.  I know that as soon as my feet hit the ground in the US I will be off and running in a hundred directions and getting back into the chaotic flow of student life.  However I am going to make a conscious effort to continue the work from this summer and to not get too caught up in other things to go back.  This is really important to me.

Thinking back on our time this summer I remember one moment in particular when, as we boated home from Chipaota, I lay back and stared at the huge stars-strewn sky and the mountains and forest reaching towards the waxing moon.  It is easy to feel like I am infinitely small and unimportant compared to how large the world is, to how many people are out there.  But as I think back on my days in the community, of watching the people work together to solve problems and the small successes that we had, I feel like maybe I can be something more.  I see the grinning faces of muddy barefoot children, their malnourished bellies and tiny bodies running towards me offering bananas and flowers, and I feel hope for the future.  Even if I am just one small individual, I know that that hope and those friendships can take me anywhere I want to go.

Until the next adventure!

Adios y gracias por leer.

-Margo