An emotional introduction: I do believe that people call me a passionate person. People scoff at my optimism and zealousness because it uses so much of my energy on a daily. Many outright say that I am crazy and naïve for doing the things that I do. Many appreciate what they have been given and don’t drop it to attempt to help people who have not had the same luck. They know coming here won’t change much, if anything, and they enjoy their gifts.
Before I came here, I felt that I couldn’t enjoy the gifts given to me if I knew there were so many without. I was riddled with guilt for enjoying a dance career.
But, now that I have come here, a numbness has come to attack my optimism. I see it in people who have devoted their lives to volunteering here. The mothers crying, the sick, the pain, it just doesn’t hit you like it did before. If it did, you couldn’t survive. You would lose your mind.
The story: My site is literally at the end of the road, but there is one walking path from Madrigal to a small village called Tapay. This village is deeper into the canyon from my town and it is about a day’s hike on a thin, unmarked path on the side of the steep canyon wall. Tapay has a microclimate because of its location and they grow fruit and vegetables year round. But, very few people live there because you can’t even ride a donkey in or out due to the vertiginous. There are less than 12 kids in the high school. When the teachers and doctors go in, they stay there a few days, then disappear back to the city until they feel like creturning. Medical and Educational access is limited here in Madrigal, but it is non-existent in Tapay. It is a dog and pony show, no more. It is a beautiful village that lives in an ancient time. I am sure that almost every tourist that has come through the canyon has a picture of the town taken from the other side of the canyon in their scrapbook.
Last week two tourists decided to hike from Madrigal to Tapay. Most people hike down from the other side of the canyon, but this pair was adventurous, and it isn’t an impossible hike by any means. I was actually supposed to hike part of it to go to the family’s alpaca ranch this past weekend as well. However, a series of rains came in and my host father cancelled the trip to the ranch because the trail would be too slippery and dangerous. The tourists didn’t get that memo. They got stuck on the path the night of the hail storm I wrote about last week. They called a tourism agency to tell them they were lost and then their phone died. A week later no one had heard from them, and the regional government sent a search and rescue team. Multiple trucks, vans, and helicopters came barreling into Madrigal. They have been here for a few days now.
My entire town is deeply concerned for these lost tourists, or at least they talk enough about them it seems that way. The gossip is all about whether they found them yet or which ancient read the coca leaves and what they told them about whether the couple is alive or not. For some reason, I don’t feel anything for the tourists. I shrug, and continue with my daily. There is nothing I can do to help them. I don’t feel anxious for them. Why? How heartless? Who is this woman that just doesn’t care? Then something hit me...
Where are the helicopters when a woman in Tapay needs to give birth? Where are the helicopters when a man has a heart attack and needs to get to a hospital immediately? Where are the government agencies bringing electricity and plumbing in their big white vans?
A government that is so obviously racist that the people expect it dominates here. Inequality is part of the game.
I could say that I am fighting for the people here to realize what is going on and teach them how Western civilization gained equal rights. But, do we even have them? Yes, when you call 911 an ambulance comes. But, if you are not part of the elite and cannot pay for the medical attention you need you are stabilized and kicked out. Is that equal? Is a tiered health care system equal? Is it just as ancient and barbaric as not sending a helicopter for the poor locals who need it?
It is hard to live this fight some days when the numbness overtakes…
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