A woman from the ranch came down from the mountain top two days ago with a sheep my family had paid her to raise. Her son who is 14, but, due to malnutrition appears to be about 8 years old, came with her. He is a happy, creative young man that Roxana seems to enjoy very much having around the house (he is who I gave the school supplies to a couple days ago). However, he attended school in the village of Tapay, a day’s hike from Madrigal. It became very obvious through casual conversation that there is a developmental retardation as well. I knew the school there was small (5-10 students), and the teachers rarely showed up to teach, but I had no idea of the extent to which the children of Tapay were being denied an education. By the time a child finishes 2nd grade here in Peru (or is 7 years old), they should be able to read 60 words per minute. Elvis is 14 years old, should be in high school by now, but reads at a rate of about 20 words per minute.
No questions asked, my host father announces to the family and Elvis’ mother that Elvis will be staying with us so he can study in Madrigal. The young, but anciently traditional woman asks no questions, and today, packed up her bags (I mean donkeys), kissed her son, and headed for the day’s hike back to the ranch.
We are now five.
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