22 Enero 2012 take two

Excerpts from the international/interfaith summit on happiness with:
the presiding bishop of the episcopal church of the US
the Dali Lama
the chief rabi of great britian
and a muslim scholar

"Lord Sacks: The definition of a Jew, Israel is at it says in Genesis 34, one who struggles, wrestles, with God and with humanity and prevails. And Jacob says something very profound to the angel. He says, "I will not let you go until you bless me." And that is how I feel about suffering. When something bad happens, I will not let go of that bad thing until I have discovered the blessing that lies within it."

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"The Dalai Lama: I always believe and also share with the people, the very purpose of our life is for happiness. Those nonbeliever also they felt that religion — religious faith is a — brings a lot of sort of complication. So without that, they feel the easier to achieve happy life. So I think the very purpose of our existence is for happiness. So that mentioned, your Constitution. And then also is equally their right. You see, happiness not come from sky, but we must make a happy life. So we have a responsibility. The government cannot provide happiness. Happiness must create within ourselves and our family. So ultimately, our own responsibility, isn't it?

Dr. Schori: Happiness, is not a right, but a duty, and a duty not just to one's self, but to the whole community, to the whole of creation. When we see it primarily as a right, it is so individually focused that at least many Americans lose the perspective of the larger whole. Right to pursue happiness on behalf of society, on behalf of all creation.

Lord Sacks: I'd like just to reflect on one other word, which is "pursuit." Finding happiness doesn't necessarily follow from pursuing it. Sometimes the deepest happiness comes when you're least expecting it. And there is a wonderful story about an 18th-century rabbi, Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev, who is looking at people rushing to and fro in the town square. And he wonders why they're all running so frenetically. He stops one and he says, "Why are you running?" And the man says, "I'm running to make a living." And the rabbi says to him, "How come you're so sure that the living is in front of you and you have to run to catch it up? Maybe it's behind you and you got to stop and let it catch up with you." Now which bits of contemporary culture do we stop and let our blessings catch up with us? Now that is called the Sabbath, which we all share."

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Dr. Schori: We share many of the same forms of prayer — prayer as awareness and attending. Christians, it may happen in other traditions as well, sometimes pray with images, sometimes pray without images, a kind of emptying prayer. I think the part that is perhaps most attractive to new learners is about understanding all of existence as prayer. The Celts were very effective at blessing each moment of the day, blessing the milking of the cow, blessing the covering of the fire at night. Brother Lawrence blessed the washing of dishes. Runners begin to understand the blessing that comes with putting your body to work and emptying the mind. There are practices that each of us participates in that are about simple awareness of God's presence in every breath, in every moment, in every encounter, in every challenge. It's that awareness and attending that is, I think, so significant.

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Geshen Thupten Jinpa: For example, in the Gospel, you know, in the Gospel you find the commandment that, if some hit you on your right cheek, then turn the other cheek.

The Dalai Lama: So there's this sort of same idea, practice of patience and practice of tolerance.

Dr. Schori: Yes, but also subverting, subverting the violence, using the violence, in some sense, the energy of the anger to change the situation.

Dr. Schori: Hitting on one cheek in the ancient world, the superior would hit with the back of the hand. And if you turned your head, he would have to use the other hand and look you in the face. So suddenly the dynamic has changed. He would have to see you. He can't simply hit an inferior.

Lord Sacks: There's a line to me — in the 23rd chapter of Deuteronomy — so unexpected. And I want — I think we all have to hear it. Here it is: Moses is talking about the experience of the Israelites in Egypt. We read about it in the Book of Exodus, an age of oppression, of slavery, of almost genocide, attempted genocide. And eventually the Israelites leave. They go through the desert, and as they're about to cross the Jordan and enter the land, Moses says these words: "Do not hate an Egyptian for you are a stranger in his land." Now that language is very odd. You're a stranger in his land sounds as if the Egyptians gave them hospitality, as if they put up the Israelites in the Cairo Hilton [laugh], and it wasn't like that.

So what is Moses saying, "Do not hate an Egyptian for you are strangers in your land"? He is telling the Israelites that you have left the physical Egypt. Now you must leave the mental experience of Egypt. You have to let go of hate, because if you do not let go of hate, you will never be free. If the Israelites had continued to hate their enemies, Moses would have taken the Israelites out of Egypt, but he would not have taken Egypt out of the Israelites. They would be slaves to their past, slaves to their feeling of pain and injustice and grievance. This is the line he taught them and the line we have to repeat day after day in this difficult and dangerous 21st century. You have to let go of hate if you want to be free.

If you are intersted in listening...

22 Enero 2012

Upon returning from Quillabamba we visited Mario and helped out a little with his vacaciones utiles (summer camp) for kids in Sibayo.

Mario's host family raises cattle and farms alpacas and sheep.
Mario and I couldn't really figure out why I was always complaining about the inefficiency of the workers in Madrigal and the lack of flavors in their sickness-infested-food while Mario thought the people of the canyon were pretty efficient and didn't eat food that tasted that badly at all. Now we get it.
Being there for only two days we learned that Madrigaleñans are VERY inefficient and silly in their methods as Mario's family taught us how they use their resources to the fullest. And I could actually eat the food they served. They even used some spices when cooking their potatoes and chicken and did not cook over and open fire of dried cow poop.
It was nice to be on an efficient, profit producing, Peruvian farm...

22 Enero 2012 playing some diary catch up

A couple weeks ago when Gray and I were headed to Cuzco to visit Hirma's parents we boarded the cheapest bus we could get on.
This is about a 10 hour bus ride, so it is an overnight venture.

Around 9pm, the bus stops. No one comes into the bus to inform us what is going on, but we can see snow has just begun falling outside the window.
An hour later it starts to get cold as the bus has no temperature modulation. We put on our coats, but the bus isn't moving, and the further we get from sunset the more I start to shiver. The bus still hasn't advanced, and the driver has turned off the engine. Gray sees that I need a blanket and insists on getting me/us our sleeping bags that are in our luggage below the bus.  He goes down to the drivers module and knocks politely. I hear his knocking getting more insistent. The driver ignores his knocking.
Gray tries hollering in some insistent but broken spanish, and the driver just shakes his head.
"He is all toasty warm in the front of the bus wrapped up in blankets and he is just sitting there ignoring me knocking."
"You are sure he can hear you?"
"Yes."
Gray is fuming from the man's rudeness and isn't willing to be rude back.
I, am willing to be as rude as needed.

This bus ride starts in arequipa, which is relatively warm this time of year, goes up to about 16,000 feet during the journey, then ends in cuzco which is also low and warm. You can imagine the temperature fluctuation and why we were not dressed properly in the case that the bus broke down.

I put on all the layers I can and tromp out into the snow... shivering.
I go to the front windshield, right in front of the driver's face, and knock. the only thing keeping my knuckles from hitting his forehead is a thin, glass, windshield.
He tries not to look at me. I hollar, "Good evening. We need to get into the luggage to get blankets. We are freezing."
he just shakes his head no.
i repeat, "We need to get into the luggage, now." while still hammering right in front of his face.
He signals me to come around to his side window and we continue conversing something along the line of:
"What?"
"It is very cold upstairs. We need to get into the luggage compartment to get blankets in our bags."
"no."
"No what? I need you to open it."
"we don't have a way to open it."
"You don't have a way to open it?" I know he is lieing so that he doesn't have to get out of his warm cacoon. "I need you to give me the key then so I can open it."
"no." shaking his head
"No, what, you don't have the key? I know you have the key."
he continues shaking his head no.
"you see me, you see what I am wearing (leggings a sweater, and a light jacket). Me and everyone else are literally freezing upstairs. You are all wrapped in blankets in your module, while we are freezing. You have to open the luggage compartment right now."
He looks at me for the first time, stops shaking his head and hollars something to a kid in the bus's driver's bed burried in blankets. He has succumb to my annouyingness, not my discomfort or his responsibilities.
The kid gets up, and in his pjs grabs a set of keys and hurries out into the snow.
Gray and the rest of the bus file out to get their luggage quickly.

"Do you have a cigarette?" the driver askes me. asshole.

Because we stepped outside, we could see the long line of buses and cars stopped ahead of us. Basically, we don't know why we are stopped. All we know is there are at least 20 vehicles a head of us stopped with their engines turned off. So our bus driver has done the same. No one knows when we will move.

we assume they just don't like driving in snow or something, and curl up in our sleeping bags. we didn't sleep too uncomfortably that night.


In the morning, the sun comes up and the snow melts instantly.
The other busses are starting to turn on their engines and inch forward, but no one knows why we are stopped. there are groups of peruvian men outside yelling at each other. I am watching out the front window everything I can.

There is one spot ahead of us that is very congested, but we can't see any sort of accident. 

After about an hour or two of bickering and no movement, women can be seen on the streets for the first time this morning. It was obvious that they were fed up with the men bickering and are going to figure this out because their kids are tired and hungry. 

Suddenly the cars are moving. Getting to their side of the road and moving forward very slowly.

Because the busses are parked in the middle of the two-way road, one particularly determined woman organizes everyone enough to get the busses to move over and only use their side of the road. Our asshole bus driver decides not to get over, but to just pass all the other buses while they move over and patiently wait their turn.

So now, we are at the front of the line of buses and still can't see why we can't continue advancing. there are just a bunch of cars, trucks and buses stopped in both directions behind us, and coming from the other way as well. Suddenly, hundreds of stopped buses come into view.
"Wow, something must have flipped in the middle of the road or something."

Then, we see it. One truck. who's back tires slid off he road. blocking one half of the road. then another large truck tried to pass it coming from the opposite direction and couldn't fit through the space of road available, so it just stopped. Parked. One truck that can't get out on our side, one truck that insists on passing through first on the other side, but unable to squeeze through are what is blocking this pass for a couple thousand people. a completely solvable issue, unsolved.
We are sitting where a small accident where no one was injured and no cars were damaged combined with stubbornness cause hundreds of busses, cars and trucks to be stopped on the only road from arequipa to cuzco.

There are no police in site, even though we are only 4 hours outside arequipa and have been stopped for about 12 hours.

Someone, to be honest, probably one of the women, convinces the cars coming from the other direction to back up (which took forever because they were hundreds of cars nose to bumper), they convince the fat truck with the stubborn driver to back up and get out of the way, and then suddenly there is a mad dash from our side of the road to pass through the skinny space now available. a game of dangerous and congesting chicken.
Our asshole driver is one of the first to get through.

As we are pulling away riders from the back of the bus start yelling, "falta gente! falta gente!"
Some people had gotten off the bus to get to a makeshift stand where someone was selling rice and noodles. "They are running behind the bus!"
the driver says, "Let them keep running." as he continues driving.
The police officers have just begun to arrive at the scene and they are signaling our driver to continue moving forward. If he stops, he could get arrested or a ticket for  disobeying orders.

There are hundreds of cars stopped coming from the other direction that we are now passing by. As we curve around we can see hundreds of cars were also stopped behind us. We can't get over the number of vehicles inconvenienced by this minor issue. This problem, that could have been solved last night in about 15 minutes if the people had organized would have only bothered about 20 vehicles. But, because it was cold out, they just curled up in their busses and waited until morning, holding us hostage in the middle of a freezing nowhere.

31 Dicimembre 2011 + 21 Enero 2012

31 Diciembre 2011

We are at the National Museum of the American Indian.
It's circular design feeds you from exhibit to exhibit showing you more than teaching you
the history of the Native American peoples.

My mother is understandably excited to show me the Peruvian exhibit in the museum. I have spent the day wondering around with my brother and sharing knowledge and ideas with him. I like talking about the Peruvian people.

I put on the headset with a woman speaking about environemental conservation in peru and end up wripping them off my head quicker than they went on. With the sound of the quechua language in my ears here in the US my body gets confused and all the feeling of frustration from my work come flooding up from somewhere. While on the comfortable and therapeutic soil of my country, I am not ready to be mentally in peru again. I want to be here, now.

The funny part is, parts of me still wants to be there. Away from the shopping malls and obsession with cleanliness (what is this business with antibacterial wipes next to shopping cart stations? excessive.)

Psychologically speaking the brain loves patterns. It loves the familiar. What it can predict.

Here I am longing for the familiar, not knowing what the familiar is.
The modernity of the US? Or the ancientness of Madrigal, Peru?

While longing for the familiar, I also long for the new.
While longing for the comfortable, I also long for the challenging.

yeah... i pretty much want a little bit of everything in my life, it's true. I want to be everywhere.


21 Enero 2012

I have been back in peru for a few weeks now. It does feel like home. That is, when I am in my little hut surrounded my american sauces and foreign spices.

16 Enero 2012

la hacienda

This past week Gray and I took a small vacation to the home of my good friend, Hirma's parents who live just outside Cuzco, close to Quillabamba, above a village called Choullai.

la cocina

They have a beautiful fruit and coffee plantation. We spent the week playing with Hirma's nephews, planting coffee trees, hiking and picking avocados, oranges, cacaos, mangos, bananas, coca leaves, mandarine, luffas and lemons. It was a shame that the tobacco, sugar cane, coffee, vegetables and honey bees weren't in season to be tended to.

picking coca

day's hike

toasting coffee

being shown how to toast coffee properly

banana bread

make-shift entertainment for the lil 'uns

They have a beautiful fruit and coffee plantation. We spent the week playing with Hirma's nephews, planting coffee trees, hiking and picking avocados, oranges, cacaos, mangos, bananas, coca leaves, mandarine, luffas and lemons. It was a shame that the tobacco, sugar cane, coffee, vegetables and honey bees weren't in season to be tended to.


You will notice in the picture we found displayed on hirma's father's wall that only nuns and the pope go to heaven while artists, ballerinas, and men with mustaches go elsewhere...

4 Enero 2012

exhausted.
after multiple flight delays and cancelations i am finally in lima.
I was dropped into steven and mila's arms and shuttled straight to a meeting with one of their biggest donors for their library (still stinky I threw on a lace top and was off).

attempting to be super woman
juggling meetings on the publication of the after school program...
meetings with important people is always fun... and stressful

1 Enero 2012

I want to take a moment to formally thank my parents.

I didn't know what to expect emotionally after spending 18 months abroad, but since the moment I stepped onto my homeland's soil they have been nothing but extremely loving and attentive.  They shuttled me into my family and friends' loving arms day after day. They catered to my every whim and craving. Thank you.
I apologize for the brat that I am. I don't feel like there is a way to thank you enough for putting up with my randomness,
"matt, stuff your pockets with those ketchup packets for me"
"seriously?"
"yes! no shame!"
he had ketchup packets coming out of his ears

"mom, dad, grab all the one serving cream cheese you can"
without a pause their pockets a filled

thank you family and friends, for being so wonderful and available for me during my short jaunt home.
and thank you to everyone who donated books, school supplies, and warm clothing to the youth and parents of madrigal.