This was the day my new host father had invited me to come back to the house and spend the day with him. When I arrived he was just returning from the fields- 'chacras' and to my delight he seemed happy to see me.
He began by offering me chicha (a white, chalky, corn-made alcohol) and we began preparing my room. It seemed like his daughter had used this room half as a study space and half as a closet. So, there was probably a decade's worth of toys, school projects, nail polishes, etc littering the dirt floor. Because they are so poor throwing things away (pretty much ever) would just be wasteful. So I organized all the garbage into categories, and he sifted through what to move to another room, and what do discard of. I think about 2lbs made it to the trash pile, and about 50lbs made it into a new storage space. But, it looked neat and tidy when we were through with it.
We sprinkled dirt water on the floor and swept up the entire top layer. Tiffyn recommended I make a zen garden with my dirt floor. I love it, off to search for a rake.
Then my Don Juan de la Cruz Suni (my host dad) fed me alpaca heart soup. I got two hearts, and the dog got the rest of the guts in my soup when Don Juan wasn't looking. Then it was back to the fields. He explained to me their aqueduct system to water the fields and we walked each cow and bull one at a time to get a drink. Over our hour long hike to and from the fields we exchanged information on plants and animals in our home countries. He was full of questions like, "what is a squirrel?" or "deer?", "what trees to you have in the states?". It was a great test of my vocabulary. After stopping by the municipality to discuss the changes to my new bedroom that they need to fund in order for me to stay there, we headed back to the chacra to train a teenage bull.
I wish I could have taken photos. They tied two bulls' horns together (an elder experienced, and the bull in training) and tried to make them walk in straight lines pulling a plow. Let me explain: crazy young bull that does not want to be tied to anything, being whipped, bleeding from the nose because he is whacked with a log every time he disobeys, running around in attempts to escape, and they tied a huge knife to the back of him! Does that scream dangerous to any of you? And the clincher, the women and children sat around the small field watching (yes, as a form of entertainment). There were exactly two times the bull decided he had enough and took off full speed for his small audience. I nearly shit my pants. The women laughed, the babies cried, and a lot of "ay-carambas" were floating in the air.
But, sitting back and looking at the scene pleased me to no ends. I was sitting on the side of a BEAUTIFUL canyon watching the sun set between its peaks, and learning the ways of the local community. And above all, integrating. After four hours of chatting with the women and playing withe their kids they tied the babies to the backs and we hiked back to the houses with the more obedient bull. Yup, he showed dramatic improvement.
The small gift I brought for my house father from the states was perfect. A maple leaf shaped bottle with sweet syrup. It was a perfect opportunity to teach him about tree sap, the maple tree, and delight his sugary pallet.
He was so proud to teach me all day, and he seemed excited for my return in a week.
He kept telling me that these walls of his house are my walls now. He offered anything I needed, and any comfort he could provide.
HE is why I look forward to going back to Madrigal. I can't wait to meet his wife. They have so much to teach me, and I think I have potential to help them and their community
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