the elvis update

many of you are familiar with the elvis situation.
please pardon the repetition necessary for the following "catch-up"

elvis is the son of my family's alpaqueros.
Ichu (alpaca food) only grows in the altiplano, so in order to raise alpacas, one must live at about 4,000meters+ altitude. That means no roads, stores, plumbing, or electricity. It also means harsh living conditions like the burning strength of the sun paired with freezing cold nights and no firewood.

So, typically, one family lives at that altitude and raises the animals of multiple Madrigaleñan families (we are at around 3,200meters altitude). They hike down to my community about once a month with meat and receive their payment for the months work. Typically, these families are the poorest in the Colca Canyon.
Elvis is the son of the very traditional and quechua-speaking Pablo and Claudia Puma, who were hired to raise my family's alpacas. He used to hike down to the rural village of Tapay to get an education, but because that village is so inaccessible the teachers rarely show up to teach and he was behind about 6 years in his education. He is 15 years old, and when his father decided Elvis should study in Madrigal he was operating at a 3rd grade level. He was malnourished, and did not speak Spanish well at all, let alone read it or do basic mathematics. My host family lovingly offered to house him, but quickly realized the challenge they had gotten themselves into by signing up to be the primary care-givers for a 15 years old ball of hormones functioning like an 8-year-old. They told Elvis he had to leave the house for a series 'innocent' of lies and thefts, but I convinced them to let him stay in the house and I would be his primary caregiver. I would ensure that he fulfilled his responsibilities, feed him, purchase his school supplies and clothes, and work with him on his homework. They agreed to let him keep his room, but he had to do one chore a day to get breakfast from them, he would get lunch at school, and I needed to attend to him in the evenings.
This worked well for a year. He advanced to 4th grade, began speaking and reading spanish closer to an acceptable level, improved in basic mathematics, and above all becuse to show a light inside him, a curiosity for the world.
At the same time working with him and his family was a constant battle. I was constantly fighting with and for him. He continued to disappear to the streets when he wanted to, and lie about his responsibilities. I continually had to go on work or personal trips to the city and leave him abandoned for a couple days at a time. We exhausted each other. But our need for one another grew exponentially over the years. He has become a nephew, I his aunt.


My family reconfirmed with me a couple months ago that after I go he has to leave. His drunken parents are not welcome in their household and they don't want to have anything to do with his immature self.
Because I work with the NGO Quechua Benefit so much they agreed to hold a place for him in their 'boarding school/orphanage' even though he is outside of their age window. I met with their director and she agreed to create a position for him as "special helper" to the albergue. He would be older than the rest of the kids there and this would come with certain responsibilities. It is a great situation for him, and when Elvis' father came down from the ranch one month ago I arranged a meeting with him and the Director of the albergue. Pablo approved of Elvis moving to the boarding school/orphanage and the paper work was put in motion.
The following week Pablo went back up to the ranch and Claudia came down for the festivals. She informed me that Elvis was absolutly not going to the boarding school/orphanage. When I asked her where he was going to live she shrugged and looked away. When I asked her why she wouldn't want to take advantage of such a wonderful opportunity for him she said, "Who will help me on the ranch when I need it." I told her Elvis can come back to the ranch when she needs him and she shook her head and looked away again. "It's too far away", she says. It is indeed 1 1/2 hours farther away. Instead of hiking down 10 hours to her son, he would have to hike up 11 1/2.  In reality small in comparrison to the benefits he would be receiving.

So, I dropped what I was doing, and went up to the ranch with her and Elvis to get mother, father, and son in a room together. Mikel gave me security by agreeing to go with. The hike...

The first day was 10 hours up, and I struggled. It was like climbing stairs two steps at a time for 10 hours with little oxygen. We breaked 3 times to eat some toasted corn or bananas.

We arrived just before sunset, our hut a 6 foot square, of which we were incredibly thankful because the stone walls blocked out the freezing night winds of the altiplano. Even in our below freezing sleeping bags we woke about every hour to stoke the fire with bush roots and moss.

In the morning I met with Elvis and his parents and proceeded to watch the two adults bicker and conclude their conversation with ‘He wants Elvis to go, she wants Elvis to stay.” As if that was an acceptable conclusion.

With nothing accomplished, I wanted to hike down to Tapay to know it. Mikel and I left around 9am and were in the warm microclimate of Tapay by dinnertime. The tiny village tucked into a tight gorge of the canyon was in festival, and the band’s music echoed up to us the entire journey down. But, the tourist hostal was comfortable and we were showered and asleep before nightfall.

In the morning the Madrigal band woke us up with spicy beef stew, and many smiling faces. Both the band members and myself were surprised and proud to see one another in the rural Tapay.

The tourists were long gone, hiking up and out of the canyon by the time Mikel and I set off, but some sort of strange exhaustion and longing for food and a strong drink boosted us up the canyon at a locals’ pace arriving in Cabanaconde in half the time we anticipated.

While I might not have gotten ahold of any solutions for my darling Elvis, what I did do was come to know him better and gain some more of his mother's trust by staying in his home and visiting the village where he was born.   
Perhaps she will come around...