hola, hola!

I try to write my emails when I'm in a upbeat mood, when I can find the humor in life, but I haven't been there the last couple of days. Maybe I'm feeling sad because I'm leaving on Saturday, or maybe I'm just overwhelmed by all the poverty and need here. Usually I can shake it off, look beyond the physical needs and, as annie wrote to me, experience the human spirit of survival and inner happiness. But I'm just not feeling it right now.

As a landscaper, I have never been a fan of asphalt. It's ugly, hard, and promotes drainage problems. Well, I now have a new found appreciation for it. I've been 'off-roading' in so-called 'taxis' for the last two days and I'm sick of dust, dirt and rocks. Meche and Faustino wanted to take me to several villages in the mountains - we went to their home town and to villages where they have cooperatives of women who embroider pillows and wall hangings. Most of these places were along rivers at the bottom of steep canyons or worse, on the opposite side. Thank goodness I don't get carsick. Lauren, you would have been miserable, throwing up all day long.

Hey all~

I'm in a fairly funky hotel room in Lima. I flew from LAX yesterday and arrived at the hotel about 2 am and as soon as I walked in the room, I had a flashback to a hotel that I stayed at in La Paz, Mexico when I was 19 years old. It was my first trip 'abroad' and on my own. (remember that trip, Janny?) I immediately checked the sheets and they were clean...unlike the sheets on my first adventure. I'm not sure what triggered that memory. I'm thinking it must have been an odor. At best, maybe some kind of cleaning solution, at worst, well, let's not go there. Okay - I don't mean to be grossing you out... I am perfectly comfortable and I'm sitting in the room as I write this...so it can't be that bad.
The bad part was my fellow guests next door arrived even later than I did...and just as I was going to sleep they started having sex. And they were loud. So I had to listen to that. The funny thing was someone else must have been bothered by it because after about 5 minutes, someone banged on their door. I was just cracking up which of course awakened me even more. They stopped and the man answered the door but I couldn't hear what they was saying. Then he shut the door and a few minutes later the couple was back at it. Just as loud as before. Finally they either settled down or my ambien kicked in. Thank goodness for drugs.
I spent today cruising Lima. I went to my alpaca supplier and looked at yarns and then I asked where I could find knitting needles, cotton and some other things that the women needed. My driver, a sweet, older man named Carlos, called his wife and next thing I knew we were driving to his house where he locked his BMW up behind a gate and 'lost' his tie and we flagged down a old, beat-up taxi. We went to a crazy part of Lima...a much poorer area where a lot of the work force must live- the 20 million that you hear about. He told me to stay next to him and to hang onto my purse. There was more trash than I've ever seen in my life, I almost stepped on a squished, dead rat, and as I looked up a guy had his back to us and was peeing in the road. Yes, we did find everything I needed, and the prices were excellent, but next time I think I'll just use the internet.

Monday
I'm back in Ayacucho! It's starting to feel like a second home. I'm staying at Marisol's house. It's really cute. Only problem is that the doorways are low and I keep bumping my head. Yesterday we had a bbq with her whole family - her mom and dad and her 6 siblings, in-laws, etc. Her dad lives in Lima now so they don't get the chance to be all together very often. They begged their dad to play the violin like he used to and her brother got out his guitar and joined him. I sat and watched them all interact - they were laughing and joking and so loving with one another. It's amazing how well they survived the guerilla/military war of the Shining Path. It was a horrible era in Ayacucho's history filled with killings and other atrocities. Marisol and her family lived through it all.

I went to the prison today and the women were so happy to see me. I've been there so many times now, I figure one of these visits they are going to look up and say 'oh, Marta's back,' and go on with their work.
There were a lot of new, young faces and a lot of babies. :( I went upstairs with Marleni to her cell to look at the new sweaters they had made. There are at least 6 ladies sharing her cell, and it was packed from floor to celling with personal items with little spaces carved out for sleeping. I was talking and laughing and all of a sudden and bundle hanging next to my head started crying. there was a tiny baby in there! I felt so badly that I had awakened her, but I had no idea she was hidden in this tiny hammock. Space is a valuable commodity, I guess.
So tomorrow we are going to review new possible projects in the prison. I suggested a better storage system, but that might not be possible. Looks like we might be doing my vegetable garden after all. I think we'll start with composting! these ladies must think I'm a nut. Hey, as long as they are laughing, it's okay.

Buenos noches. marta jardinera

Hola, mis amigos -

my spanish is getting better! :) There are a few volunteers here that don't speak much spanish and today at the prison I caught myself trying to translate spanish by speaking spanish. Elizabeth was looking at me like I was crazy. I was a whole two sentences into it until I realized what I was doing. Now that's what I call true immersion!!

Our solar experiments are going well. There were only a few women who were afraid to try the chicken because they couldn't buy into the solar concept, but everyone else loved it. It took about an hour longer to cook than we anticipated, but no one got sick!! We tried baking today, (see pictures below) and the apple dish was almost done when we were leaving, but the cookie/bread thing that we tried had only risen a bit. It has chocolate chips in it, so I'm confident it will be consumed regardless of its condition.

I visited my artist friends, Meche and Faustino, and there are pictures included of them and their group of mujeres that work with them. I took a few volunteers with me, and we went to the 'mother's club'. they meet every week and the women work together on various projects. Faustino asked each women to get up and say a few words about themselves so we could get to know them. Many of them are single moms trying to make a living for their children and are from the mountains but now living in Ayacucho. Most of the women were embarrassed and some of them were so much so that they couldn't speak, so I knelt in front of them and put my hand on their knee and asked them questions. And even that seemed painful for them. Then it was our turn to speak about ourselves and I told them it was one of the volunteers 25th birthday, and all the women sang happy birthday in quechua to her. It was so incredibly beautiful. And then each came up one by one to kiss her.

I took the middle photo yesterday. We went out to the countryside -about an hour drive - to visit a couple of schools and a clinic. It's absolutely unbelievable how much they do with so little. I couldn't resist snapping a shot of these two little boys in their school uniforms.

well, I'm off to my first attempt as a salon assistant. One of the volunteers, Elizabeth, is a hairdresser at home and she and I are going to the orphanage to cut hair...actually, she'll cut, i'll wash. Seems that all that the nuns know how to do is 'chop' and these little girls need some help. I also get to look for lice. Yes, I'm wearing my hair up.

love, marta de la salon

I guess I'm on an emotional roller coaster here, and I'm bringing you all along with me. After feeling so enthused about the solar ovens yesterday, I went last night to the center for abused women. Marisol and I visited it in February and spoke with the director. It's not a residence, but rather an resource center that the women come to for help. The emergency center offers various forms of assistance including connecting the women with psychologists, doctors, lawyers, etc. After all was said and done at our first visit, I offered to send a woman to teach weekly knitting classes and perhaps help the women in the future by paying for their work.

Marisol found a teacher last spring and she started teaching knitting twice a week at the prison and twice a week at the center. She's sort of a serious, but very patient, older woman who is quite committed to teaching. Well, the prison women ate her up. After two months there, she didn't want to go back and they didn't want her back. Someone stole a couple small bags of my yarn that she had; others criticized her that she didn't know what she was doing or she was too boring; people would sometimes be available for classes and other times not. It's just not an easy crowd. Marisol and I heard many stories from both sides. I guess we should have known better than sending a sweet old lady into a prison with 170 women that live together in tight quarters. I don't know what we were thinking.

But - it was a different story at the center. She was just perfect for them. Her consistency and her kindness was just what these women needed. So last night we visited the class and I didn't really expect much. We got there early and met with the director and I finally met the teacher and women started showing up one by one. I had been so busy with the prison, I really didn't know what was going on at the center and I thought there would be just a few ladies, but 19 women came! All with their knitting and their stitching samples of the various types of puntos that they have learned. (I say 'puntos' because my only exposure to knitting has all been in spanish, and I don't know what you call the various knitting patterns in english. I'm sure one of my friends know, so help me here) Evidently, there are 30 women enrolled in the class. Some came alone, others with children, and they all sat in chairs with their knitting around the perimeter of the room. The room was rather quiet, with a few women conversing, but most were involved with their work or their babies. Very few made eye contact with me, so I got up and went around the room introducing myself and addressing each one- asking their name (two were named marta), complimenting their work or their children. It was surreal to me for some reason that I still haven't figured out yet.

The director came in and said a few words, and Marisol spoke and then introduced me, and the women all started clapping and I just about lost it. I had already been tearing up watching and talking to these ladies who were victims of violence and were trying so hard, so it took all I had not to break down. But I held myself together and thanked them for their participation and said a few other things in spanish. I'm sure I wasn't making sense because I didn't even know what I was trying to say. Thank goodness for the language barrier. My incoherency was just attributed to bad spanish hopefully. Then one of the women spoke and explained how they would like to stay together as a group and how they were helping each other and learning and perhaps they could form a cooperative and start selling their knitting. Marisol explained that that was why we were there, to help them with that.

As we were leaving, we spoke to the teacher and she said some of the women already knew how to knit fairly well, so a few were ready to make sweaters and others were ready to make scarves. We are going back on friday to the class to bring alpaca for her to give to those students.

So, my friends, many of you told me to bring back more scarves. I'll have a suitcase full! I picked up 20 today from the prison. I got mobbed last week when I was handing out work there. All the women want to make scarves because they don't have to have the same expertise as when making sweaters. I think we have about 50 women knitting at the prison now. So help me when I get back! Christmas is coming! They make nice gifts! I'll email pictures and I should have a web site up in running in about a month. (no pressure, Alan. :) )

Oh - Solar update: We made chicken and vegetables in 5 pots today, but we didn't have enough time to see it completed. When we left at 11:30, it was about half way cooked. But it looked like it was working! I almost burned my hand trying to check the pot! And the guard wouldn't let me bring my camera in, so no pictures this time. :(

I know it's trite and overused, but we are so so lucky, guys.

love, marta

hola!

We're finally going to make solar ovens! I've been wanting to do this for over a year and a couple of women in the prison asked me about it, so with their real interest I got motivated. Lauren and her cousin Thad made them in Tanzania last year (see pictures below), so I thought we'd give it a try for the women in the prison. The food that the prison provides is really inadequate (from what I'm told - I would never try it!), and the women sometimes use little kerosene burners in their cells to cook food for themselves. The quad that they spend most of the day in is sunny and hot, so it makes sense to try it. Also, we are close to the equator here and at 8500 feet this sun is really strong.

Marisol and I went to a basket maker on Saturday and showed him a picture of our design. There aren't a lot of woven basket vendors here because there isn't a lot of vegetation. we found this location along the side of the road, outside of town. The man lives with his family in this tiny hovel up a dirt path off the 'highway'. It took him quite a while to understand what we wanted even though we brought him pictures. I wasn't sure he was really going to follow thru because he was kinda slow and seemed confused and non-committal. But I just followed Marisol's trusting lead and we left him money and an order for 8 baskets. Of course, on Monday when the sample was suppose to be done, he said 'manana'. So yesterday when we called him on his cell (yes, even HE has a cell phone), I told marisol to lay down the law and explain if something wasn't ready that we wanted our money back. But I guess I was being the typical skeptical norteamericana because he had three ready. He and his son were making them when we arrived and he asked me why I wanted the baskets. Marisol and I explained the solar ovens to him and this down- trodden man suddenly awakened. He looked at us in astonishment like we were talking about making spaceships to the moon and he said 'that's unbelievable!!!!' and then he literarily begged me to help him make one. So now we are making nine.

So who knows how it will go, but we are going to make the ovens on Friday and cook in them on Monday. My poor nephew, Thad, has received about 2 dozen emails from me- no exaggeration - asking every minute detail I could think of. I told him to forgive me, but being locked up with 170 women, I didn't want to mess up. And Thad, being our family's go to for anything off the grid, suggested to me yesterday to forget the plumbed toilet and just do a composting toilet. You just cover your deposit with leaves, sawdust, etc., and then use it in the garden at a later date. (sorry, thad, I know I'm minimizing your explanation and you know I love you) Anyway, I think that might be a project for next year!!

ciao! martita

p.s. I'll be taking solar oven orders upon my return.

Buenos dias!

I somehow forgot about the barking dogs, the roosters crowing and the garbage truck that rings a bell at 5:40 am alerting all the locals to bring out their garbage. The worst of all are the little moto taxis that circulate all night. They are like old sewing machines with loud speakers. A good night's sleep is hard to come by. And although high altitude isn't really difficult for me to adjust to, I think it does affect my sleep. So last night I took a tylenol pm and now I'm trying to wake up.

We're doing aerobic lessons in the prison today! One of the volunteers has taught aerobics so we started a class yesterday. The women have been asking for an exercise class ever since I first came here. Only about 8 women participated (5 that volunteered and 3 that I wrestled from the onlookers). But I think we'll have more today. I talked it up yesterday and I think I got some positive responses. I think. I never really know. It takes awhile for them to warm up to something new.

And we're hopefully working on two new toilets today! Marleni is suppose to get a 'plumber' from the men's side to come over and give us ideas of what's possible. I'm not sure digging is allowed in the prison. Somehow that just doesn't seem like the officials would like. Right now they just have 3 toilets for 170 women. and when I say toilets, that's a exaggeration. It's just a cement hole in the ground. That's it. And 'foot markers' in the concrete to suggest where to put your feet. Hopefully the new bathrooms will have something to sit on. I've been working on this since my last visit, but somehow things take forever to get done. And maybe with my gringa face I can get some attention in the women's side. We'll see.

Anyway, gotta go! I have 15 minutes to get ready!

besos, martita de la toiletta

Hey all!

I'm back in Ayacucho once again. for the fourth time. I think I need a new travel agent. But I'm emailing and drinking coca tea so everything is good. :)

I arrived in Ayacucho at sunrise on Friday morning after having traveled all afternoon and hanging out all night in the Lima airport (yes, I did my normal starbucks visit and chair massage routine). I was going to nap, but a bunch of the volunteers were heading out to the prison for a special celebration for the incarcerated elderly people. (I know - that sounds so depressing.) So I rallied and went along. Unfortunately, a random search was in progress in the men's area of the prison, so the celebration was canceled, but we were able to visit with women.

As always, it was a wonderful reunion. Everyone kissing and hugging.... hugging and kissing...in spite of the swine flu. I'm sure I was the only one among us with antiseptic gel. With all of us hanging out in the quad, we decided to play a game of volleyball. The ladies put up the net and changed into their 'sports clothes'. All of the gringas were on one team and the prisoners and I were on the other. My participation with them wasn't because of our friendship or some strain of Stockholm syndrome. It was just because I wanted to be on the WINNING team. And we were hot. we beat those gringas' ass. Even with all of my errors. But I was the best cheerleader. we were yelling and high fiving the whole time.

I got up early this morning at walked around Ayacucho taking pictures. I thought it would be quiet and few people would be up. I walked into the center and there was a huge line of Quechua women. I mean like a thousand or more. It was amazing to see so many of them in one place. all of them lined up with their skirts and 'cowboy' hats, some with kids, some with mantas. It turns out that on the first Sunday of the month, they get a stipend from the government. And everyone shows up evidently. I managed to take a few mediocre pictures from a distance - I've included a couple.

anyway - that's it for now. not much going on. just drinking my tea and acclimating to the altitude.

besos, marta

Hey all!

Once again, I'm sitting at Starbucks in the Lima airport (sorry, Annie, but believe me, I'm making this cappuccino last for two hours, they've only gotten 10 soles from me). My flight to LAX leaves at 1:30 in the morning, so that's about 6 1/2 hours from now. I was cruising around the city for most of the day, but I'm fading fast and I figure I better get myself settled before I get too spacey. I took the bus last night from Ayacucho to Lima. A nine hour ride. And it wasn't easy to sleep, so I'm wiped out. Once again, I'm amazed at what assaults my senses that people here just take for granted. Like the bathroom on the bus. Like pee and poop. I didn't want to use it, but after 8 hours, I couldn't hold it any longer and I had to pee and you can imagine me trying to pee without sitting on the seat with the others people's pee slaushing around the bowl (I'm not really sure if it was broken or if that's the way it always is) and the bus driver changing lanes and braking and I'm praying that the pee of those others before me doesn't splash out. Can you imagine the horror if we had been in a minor bus accident and I was inside of there? I would have to stay in a shower for the rest of my life. I would have looked like that kid on Slum Dog Millionaire and I wouldn't even get an Oscar for it. If I hadn't been so freaked out, I would have been laughing. In fact, I'm laughing now, but I was NOT LAUGHING when I was in that little cubicle.

Anyway, I'm running out of battery here on my laptop, but I just want to let you know that Marisol and I are thinking about opening a women's center in Ayacucho (Just thinking about it, Bob). It could be a place where women could come and get knitting to do at home and earn some money and have lessons in knitting, nutrition, exercise, self esteem, whatever. We visited a center for Abused Women the other day together and it was pretty depressing. As I said, we are just playing around with the idea, but if anyone has any input or ideas or expertise and wants to be involved to a very small degree or a larger one, please let me know. I'm not sure it's gonna fly, so don't hold me to it, but I'd love to hear from any of you.

See you in California!

much love, marta

buenos dias!

I'm going to the prison this morning and I'm already starting to tear up. It's my last day so I have to go say goodbye to everyone. For most of them, their situation is so unjust and I get to just walk out and fly back to Del Mar and they have to stay there with the same old day in/day out struggle. Enma has been there for two years and still doesn't have her sentence. She says she thinks she'll either get out soon or will get 15 years like Marleni. She got arrested with her husband and her two young girls are in the orphanage. I gave her a note from them that another volunteer who works at the orphanage asked me to deliver, and she just broke down as she read it. (Enma is the one with the beautiful voice who I 'paid' last time to sing for us. She also is the most prolific knitter of the baby sweaters.) And you know, every one of the women in there has a story like Enma's. I could write pages and pages.

We drove two hours yesterday to a local trading market up in the Andes. Meche and Faustino are from that area so they went with us as our interpreters and guides. All of the volunteers wanted to go, so there was a dozen of us stuffed into a van. I was sitting in the back and we were chugging along at a snail's pace climbing up to 12000 feet, which was just as well because it was drizzling most of the way. Faustino explained to me how this type of market use to be very common but now it is dying out with people going to the cities on a regular basis. It's one of the few left in the area.

We get there and it's totally another world. Snow on the mountains above us and it's drizzling and FREEZING and there's about 100 Quechua people all bundled up in their panchos and alpaca hats and scarves - selling and buying - cooking and eating - visiting - negotiating - skinning animals. with fruits and vegetables and alpaca fir and skins and meat and lots and lots of smells. Meche and Faustino negotiate on my behalf for different colors of sheared alpaca fir - browns and blacks and creams. And no, I wouldn't touch or buy the skins. Even though a man tried to explain to me at length how the fur could be removed and used for spinning. I'm such a westerner. And this market made me realize once again what a hypocrite I am. It was just too close to real life for my Southern Californian sensibilities. What a world we live in.

Anyway - gotta run off to prison.

con amor,

marta de los estados unidos

Hola!

I met two very interesting women today. After I worked at the prison, Marisol and I went to visit the 'Mother Teresa of Ayacucho,' as she puts it. We had been discussing expanding the knitting program to women outside of the prison and Marisol mentioned a nun in town that has lots of activities at the convent, and she thought there was a knitting group.

We knocked on a beautiful old wooden door on some side street and I was introduced to Mother Covadonga. That's evidently not her actual name, but it's what everyone calls her because she is from Covadonga, Spain. Marisol has known her since she was a little girl in grade school. Mother Covadonga arrived in Ayacucho in 1980 and has been here ever since. She was here during all of the atrocities of the Shining Path/Military war and hid hundreds of people at various times in the basement of the convent. She initiated the work programs at the prison several years ago. She started with the men doing carpentry. They began with a single saw and now it's a full blown workshop. She also brought a sewing machine and eventually the government got wind of the project and took it over and expanded the prison work program. She said her goal for the prisoners was work, learning and sports and one more thing I missed-probably religion, right? She said she never calls it 'prison ' but rather 'The University of Life' because she wants the prisoners to learn how to live. She often acts as a mediator with various problems. The area that Meche and Faustino live is called Covadonga in honor of her mediating the disagreement between the landowners and the squatters on the property. (And it looks like the squatters won.) She knows Faustino very well and I realize now that I've heard him mention her several times.

The convent was empty today because they shut down for 6 weeks this time of year and give everyone vacation. The three of us sat on stiff wooden chairs in a meeting room and Marisol introduced me and explained what I was doing. Mother Covadonga explained to us that they have a knitting group of women from all over that meet once a week. They have 'profesores' teach the women how to knit, crochet, etc. and the women go home and make all sorts of things and often sell them in various markets. She said many of them are excellent knitters and she thought my concept of bringing the designs and alpaca yarn and paying the women for their work was interesting. She likes the idea of women having work but being able to be at home with their children. We also spoke about possibly having a knitting teacher for the women in the prison twice a week for those who would like to participate or improve their skills. Mother Covadonga said that all of her 'profesores' are volunteers because they have no money to pay them, but maybe we could work something out.

She kept looking at my name and asking me questions about where I was from, etc., and then she somewhat abruptly looked at me and said, 'Let me explain something to you. We are Catholics. We are Dominican nuns. We do not believe in birth control and have nothing to do with politics. So if these are your motivations, we cannot work together.' Well, I have been interrogated by nuns several times in my past, so I was not intimidated. I smiled at her and explained that when I was young, I was also Catholic. And I was taught by Dominican nuns for 8 years. I said when I was very young, I also wanted to be a missionary like her (no rude comments, Bob H. It's true). I explained that I have respect for her religious beliefs and had no intention of introducing those issues with my knitting project. After that, we were tight. I was no longer 'Martha' but 'Martita' and everything was good.

The second woman I met today was a beggar on the street. There are very few people begging in Ayacucho, probably because everyone is quite poor, and they tend to be crippled or very old Quechuans. From what I've seen, they are treated respectfully by the locals and people just walk around them and throw a coin in their bag now and then. This woman was sitting on the stoop outside the coffee shop Marisol and I were entering, and we both dropped a small coin in her hand. As I stepped around her, I checked out her old ripped manta (blanket) and mentioned to Marisol how cool it was. Marisol knows how I love the old woven material, so she said, 'Let's see if she wants to sell it.' Marisol sat down next to her and asked her questions in quechuan. I love listening to that language, it is so musical. Turns out her name was Simona and her husband just got out of the hospital and can't work, so she is begging on the street to survive. She is eighty years old.

Marisol asked her if she would like a new manta in exchange for her old one. She explained that I like old ones, and would buy her a new one in exchange. We could walk down to the market and she could pick out another one. At first the lady was suspicious, but then she decided yes, she wanted a new one. We said we were going to grab a cup of coffee for a few minutes ( I needed something after my interrogation), and then we would go. She was so cute. She said she thought we should go NOW. We assured her we would be out in just a few minutes and then we would join her.

When we came outside, she was sitting there waiting. She couldn't believe someone was going to buy a new manta for her in trade for her old one. I was a little concerned because the market was three blocks away and figured our journey there would be quite laborious. Little did I know, but this 80 year old woman was a mountain goat. I couldn't keep up with her. I chased her jet black braids down the street and up the steep steps. I think she was afraid I was going to change my mind. And then she wanted to see every manta in the place. Finally she selected one and laid it on the ground and transferred her belongings from her old manta to her new one. I gingerly picked up her old dirty manta with two fingers and dropped it into a plastic bag. I gotta say it will be beautiful after several washings, but right now it's pretty disgusting. Then we proceeded to take her around the market and buy her some food to take home with her. She got a chicken (the whole thing - head, feet and all) and some bread. We gave her a kiss and a hug and as we were leaving, she grabbed Marisol and told her she had another old blanket at home and did we want to buy that one as well? So she is going to leave her manta with the chicken lady tomorrow to see if I like it. The chicken lady said it was fine, that she recognized the old woman and she would be happy to store the manta for her. I have a feeling that I will end up buying this manta no matter what. And this lady just might have an endless supply.

It's comforting to see strong women in the world.

Buenas noches. Ciao! Martita

hola mis amigos~

I reached a new low yesterday...or a new high, I guess, depending on your perspective. Dancing in the prison. for all the prisoners...about 1500 OF THEM. And I wore the gathered white skirt, the blanket and the ridiculous hat. And I had my hair in pigtails. Yes, I was quite a babe. I'm sure Cosmo would have loved to have done a shoot. I actually looked more like a lost Fraulein than a quechuan.

The morning started off a little disorganized - the prison officials weren't exactly on top of the event. All the prisoners were in a big quad - women and men (except my weaving buddies in maximum security who were still behind bars, but I waved to them). We were one of about 6 groups dancing. the other five were actually very good. They had really cool costumes and did some indigenous type of stomping and dancing. We sucked. But we made up for it by our enthusiasm and our humor. I'm not sure the officials really appreciated it though. I'll find out on Monday, I guess...if they let me in or not...or better yet if they let me out or not. :) Only kidding, Bob.

As I was saying, the event was a little random. They kept everyone waiting for about an hour or so before the fierce dancing competition was to begin. there was music playing over a loud speaker and everyone was a little bored. About a dozen male inmates were going around the crowd selling soda, jello and tacos. Of course, we couldn't eat anything or we'd be sick for days. After a little while, one of the inmates got up and starting dancing, jumping around the quad. The man must have some mental disabilities because everyone called him 'loco', and all the inmates were laughing. Anyway, he seemed friendly and harmless enough, so I started dancing towards him from the other side of the quad... and everyone cracked up. (Don't worry, I asked Marisol if it was okay before I did it.) We danced/jumped together for a bit while everyone laughed and the local 't.v. station' got some footage and then my cold got the better of me and I directed him to a couple of the other volunteers. When it was time to start dancing, I knew we weren't going to shine from our dancing techniques and some of the volunteers were feeling a little uncomfortable dancing with all of these inmates watching, so I played the role of mamacita cheerleader and ran around the quad getting all of the inmates to clap and smile and cheer. and I wouldn't leave them alone until they did. All of the women prisoners loved it. They cheered the loudest. And laughed the loudest...at me. We all actually had a great time. So I made a fool of myself once again, but life is short. You only have so many opportunities to do that. And I'm trying to take advantage of them all it seems.

And I LIED. We did have a camera. So once again, I will sacrifice my self esteem and pride and share a couple of pictures with you for the greater good of laughter and your amusement.

love, mamacita loca

Buenos dias!

Still sick. not any better. And today is going to be crazy. It's mardi gras and all the volunteers are suppose to dress up in the traditional peruvian outfits (with these stiff black and white hats that are too small for all of us) and put on a dance performance at the prison. I don't know how I let Marisol talk me into this. If I weren't wearing such a bright outfit, I could slip into the crowd and hangout with all the prisoners. (yes, that actually sounds more appealing to me.) But I'm approaching it with a sacrificial attitude: I figure anything to make them laugh is worthwhile. But the good news is that cameras are not allowed. So don't be expecting any pictures!! They aren't coming!!!

I've spent the last three afternoons visiting with Meche and Faustino- the weavers. Meche has a group of women who work with her - about 50 ladies from the area- who come to the house and get work - usually embroidery- and take it home to complete. every Wednesday they get together at her house to visit and work together. It's a great concept. the women can earn money without leaving home and Meche emphasizes camaraderie and the importance of the group. Meche and Faustino are really unusual people- They both seem driven by the higher good. their house is modest, but they open it for everyone.

Yesterday, Edith came to visit me. She's the woman from the prison who had been there for 11 years and got out in August. You would initially think that she would be on cloud 9 to be out of prison, but she's not. She is really searching right now. She's struggling with traffic, people, living with her mom, finding work. Anyway, I took Edith with me for lunch yesterday to Meche and Faustino's house. We sat for about three hours eating and looking at designs and the whole time Faustino was giving Edith a subtle pep talk. I knew he would. He didn't know her from before but he was so kind to her and spoke about life in a very simplistic way...to find something beautiful to appreciate and to learn one little thing each day. He said a lot of other stuff too, but I couldn't understand everything. Downside of being a foreigner.

Anyway, guys...time to put on my outfit. Marisol rented them and they are one size fits all, but believe me there are a lot of sizes in this house. I'll probably pass out from laughing before i get out of the house.

I've included in my next email some photos of the women's get together at Meche and Faustino's house. The little boy and girl in the pictures are their children.

Ciao!

martita con la gripa

Hey all!

Well, today is my last day in Ayacucho and my last day at the prison. I hate this. it's just going to be too sad. I ordered 150 pastries from the bakery across the street to bring to the women this morning (no time to make banana bread this time, gerald). They are working like crazy to finish work so I can take it today. I still haven't figured out how to export products but I'll just have the women continue their work after I'm gone, and Marisol will pay them and collect it.

I just got a text message from Carina who is touring Thailand with her Australian boyfriend, Archie (let me clarify - that adjective may sound like she has more than one boyfriend - she doesn't). She is exactly 12 hours ahead of me here - she said she was going out to dinner and getting another $5 massage. One of the best massages she's ever had. Poor child. I texted back with a suggestion that we trade places for a couple of hours - she could go to the prison and I could get a massage.

Actually, yesterday was a great day at the prison. I guess I still have some appeal - Marisol and I went to the prison warden and talked him and two other officials into letting me take my camera into the women's area and take pictures! this guy is really tough and Marisol said she was sure he wouldn't go for it, but it was easy. We just acted really sweet, and the guy agreed. I had to go back later and have the head of security escort me with my camera. I'm sure they don't want a lot of photos of the poor conditions. He was very nice and asked me for my phone number. (I'm serious! - no, bob, I didn't give it to him. I pretended that my spanish abilities had escaped me at that very moment and ignored him. Like what Alfredo and Audel do to me when I ask them to do something they don't want to do.)

At first, a lot of the women didn't want me to take their pictures. But then one of them asked me if I would bring them a copy and I said sure - well, then I was the most popular girl once again. Everyone wanted their picture taken- alone, with their friends, here, there and everywhere. I'm convinced that smiling in pictures is a direct product of dental care...of which these women have had none. Most of them sat straight-faced and none of them gave me a really big, open smile. So of course, I acted really stupid and made funny noises to make them laugh and then shot the picture. It didn't work with all of them. Not everyone gets my humor, I guess. So now I'm taking about 150 prints to the prison tomorrow.

We also had a carpenter inmate come from the men's side and give us an estimate on building a lean-to against the wall for more shade. He figured it out and told us it would be about $400. That would include the material and labor. I then asked him to leave us alone for a few minutes so we could discuss it. The women said it was a good price and that this guy was really good and reliable. he had said it would take about a week to build and they assured me that it would be done in a timely matter. I guess he does a lot of the construction there. So I agreed that we would start and that I would advance the money from their 'excess' earnings...i.e., any profit that I make selling their products. We then start taking about a lot of different stuff, just chatting and laughing. about a half hour later, I remember the contractor who is waiting for an answer from us! Poor guy had been standing at the gate for all that time. Actually, he probably was having a lot more fun with the women than with the men.

I'll send pictures in the next email.

love, marta - la fotografa

Dear friends and family,

I'm starting to feel like a zombie. I am NOT good with lack of sleep. All night here, I have the dogs and cars, the roosters at 4am, the sun at 5am and then the garbage at 5:30! And people don't put their trash out on the street for pick up - I guess because of all the dogs. The garbage truck has an alarm type ring that they blast several times when they are outside your door, so you can grab the bags and run downstairs!!! Mihi, I will never, ever, complain again when you guys have a late party down the street. I promise.

I made additional contact with my prison weaver yesterday and today- I asked permission to talk with him and we figured out quantities and sizes. it's so funny - you start talking with one person and pretty soon there's a group of inmates all putting their two cents in. Part of it is just entertainment for them... a distraction, and part of is a useful tool for figuring things out. they all brainstorm together and then settle on the best way to proceed. Victor asked me for a deposit so he could order the wool, and as I had left my purse with Marleni, I ran back to the women's side . Through the bars I asked for my money and told her what I was doing. she starts asking me questions and realizes that I'm being too trusting, so she tells me SHE needs to talk with the guy. I go back to the men's area, like a five year old, and he is allowed to escort me to speak with Marisol. The two of them speak through the bars for about 10 minutes. she reads him the riot act. (not sure that's how you write that, but you know what I mean) she explains to him I'm not just some 'one- time' gringa, that I've been there MANY times (actually, only two) and I will be back. She explains how I am helping them and how they need to be very fair with me. they go on and on, and Victor is somewhat shy and is very agreeable with everything she says. He's just listening to her and saying, 'si, senora, si mami, si.' They then talk about where they are from, who they know in common in the prison -sort of establishing their own network of accountability and character references. we then settle on a price and a time line and everyone is happy. We'll see how it goes. ...especially the time line.

Today, most of the volunteers came to the prison to take the children to the park. It's a great thing that Marisol tries to do every Friday to give the children some exposure to the world outside. Some of the kids are fine leaving their mothers, but some of the younger ones are nervous, not only about leaving their moms, but going with these funny white people. There's one little girl in the prison who every time I make eye contact with her, she breaks out in tears and runs for her mother. (no sarcastic remarks, please!) Actually, most of the little kids on the street here stare at me as I walk by.

With the exception of lack of outside experiences, I think the practice of the kids being with their mothers in prison isn't all that bad. they have a huge support system with 150 women at their disposal. I see many women step in to help as a mother needs a break or needs to do something. And I think for the ladies, the physical contact, being able to hold and touch someone and be affectionate is a big need that's being filled to some degree. Of course, the very sad time is when the children have to leave the prison permanently at four years old.

Emma, a woman in the prison, has a beautiful voice. the women were trying to get her to sing for me. She kept shaking her head and acting embarrassed, and Marleni and Senovia started taking coins - small change- out of their bras and pockets and kept teasing her to sing. After a couple of minutes, being the sensitive person I am, I reach into my back pocket, pull out a 100 sole bill and slap it on the table and say CANTA!! (SING!!) And everyone just cracks up. no, i didn't really give her 100 soles to sing, but she sang anyway - a very soft and sad song about the time of the Shining Path about 15 years ago when 100,000 people in the region were killed. It seems there's laughter here, but always a bittersweet or very sad lining attached.

We discussed needs and priorities for the women again today. We're thinking the first thing we need to do is create more shade. it's probably a higher priority than the toilets. (I don't know- toilets would be pretty important to me, but that's what the ladies said) There's only a small area that is covered with a tin roof and the rest of the quad is exposed to strong sun. A lot of women hang blankets over the clothesline and sit under it for shade, but there isn't a lot of room. also, the women are at least 6 to a cell. The ones that sleep on the floor have to leave the room early in the morning, so many of them make their way outside to sleep and end up out in the open. The rains come in January which is another reason for more covered areas. so I'm going to talk with their 'representative' on the prison board, a prison official -Sophia, and find out who and what we have to pay to install a lean --to for shade. Maybe I'll design a nice trellis, with rose vines and wisteria. You all know I'm joking, right??

Every once in a while, I become overwhelmed by how much need there is here and how much there is to do. Granted, I realize this is nothing compared to some other parts of the world, but all the same, it gets discouraging. I'm just try to focus on the individuals that I'm trying to help and not the big picture. as they say, one step at a time.

love to all,

marta desde la carcel

Hola mis amigos!
I now understand the other reason for daylight savings time. My room faces east and at 5am the sun is blasting in my window. Peru should consider changing their clocks.

It's 4:30 in the morning and I can't sleep, which will come as a real shock to Bob because I can generally sleep through anything. I think it was the barking dog - she sounded just like calla - and I woke up with a start thinking we had forgotten to bring her in. Maybe I can type with my eyes closed to keep this bright screen from really awakening me. maybe bringing this laptop wasn't such a good idea.

I thought i'd write a little more about my llama trek. We started out at 8am. 12 volunteers in all. We drove about 2 hours into the mountains. I was somewhat concerned to be hiking at such altitudes having just left sea level the day before. So I had a bag of coca leaves in my pocket. It's a well-known cure for altitude sickness. (no, i'm not making that up.) I felt like an addict walking along with the group, stuffing leaves in my cheek. you see, all of these volunteers have been together for anywhere from 2 to 12 weeks already. I came in on an off date, which is usually against Cross Cultural Solutions policy, because I had been here before. so I'm walking along relatively quietly with all these people who have bonded and are talking about stuff I know nothing about, and are joking with one another. Not that I can't joke with the best of them, but it's a little obnoxious to be the new kid and making sarcastic remarks. so hence my discomfort, hiking along quietly in the back, surreptitiously slipping leaf by leaf into my mouth. Actually, the situation provided a way for me to get acquainted with everyone. We were all fairly spread out walking at different speeds, so I would spot someone and herd them off and ask questions. Naturally, I got to know the stragglers better than the serious hikers.

The trip was organized by Pancho, a local who comes to CCS and offers various tours on the weekend for volunteers. I think he has various businesses and this is just a side deal that he does on the weekends. To Pancho, everything is possible and it'll only be 30 minutes. Maybe an hour, but no more.

the sun was so bright at that altitude, it was almost blinding. I wore a hat and my sunglasses (of course, we all know I wore my sunglasses -even my facebook photo is with sunglasses ) but my eyes still got really red. As I said in the last email, the scenery was just beautiful. Not much in the way of vegetation at that altitude, but the grasses and rocks and sky really provided the color.

the real humor of the trip started when we camped for the night. Pancho had arranged for us to stay in one of the little mud/thatched hut "compounds." we were basically in the patio area of several different structures. One was used for by the family for cooking, one for sleeping and one for the animals.

Our tents were set up in the middle. the group of volunteers range in age from just out of high school to somewhere in the 60s. Pancho let us know the required capacity of each tent and left it to us to figure out the sleeping arrangements. People were sort of forming groups by familiarity, and much to the 18 year old boys dismay, I saw it getting down to just a few spots left, and I graciously volunteered to sleep in their tent. I said I would play the mother role but reassured them that there wasn't much I hadn't been exposed to. I can't tell you how that put them at ease.

Little did I know, but Devon, one of the teenagers, has a very funny sense of humor. And he loves to complain. there was also one 24 year old girl in our tent family, who had been the elder of group prior to my participation. So after our meal was prepared in one of the little huts, we sat outside around the fire for an hour watching cave man TV, as my nephew Thad describes it, and as it was dark and cold and being exhausted, most of us decided to head for bed. I looked at my watch and it was 7:30! I said, what the heck, and headed for the tent anyway. (I could say I was still on California time, but that would have meant it was 4:30 in the afternoon).

So, all night, Devon can't sleep. I mean, all night. we were sooo squished in this tent, if you put your arms by your side, you were touching the person next to you. we almost had to turn simultaneously. It was cold when we got in, so I told the boys they had to sleep on either side. Well that was a mistake, because after an hour of the four of us breathing, it was like a sauna in there.

So there we were in this beautiful setting, out in the middle of world at 13,500 feet and the dogs start barking. and the roosters are all screwed up and crow randomly at any hour. and people in other tents must think it was a insulated five star hotel because they are talking in regular voices. And then those beautiful llamas that are corralled just steps away, with those beautiful bells tied to their necks that wafted so inspirationally during our climb that afternoon, start moving. Every move results in a ringing. They move all night! And then Devon starts complaining. he's not talking to anyone. but just out loud. comments like 'and I thought we were getting away from the dogs!' and, 'oh shit' and it goes on all night. And then one of the dogs decides to sleep right outside our tent leaning against him. And I can't help but find the whole experience terribly amusing. so every time he makes a sarcastic remark, I am giggling/shaking and I can't stop. this goes on all night. You had to have been there is all I can say. So the way I figure it, I slept from 8 until 6, take away 5 hours of awake time, that leaves you with 5 hours of sleep. not bad at 13,500 feet.

So after awaking at 6, having breakfast, we are off to a quick 'Pancho' start by 11am. that's when the horses arrive. you can just imagine what they look like. It's a joke. I get a decent horse ( I think because I was making conversation with the quechuan woman in charge), but my saddle is older than I am. Other people who said that they didn't know anything about horseback riding get the wild horses with a small quechuan boy guiding them with a rope. Somehow that was supposed to be safer. the only 6'+ man in the bunch gets the pony. His feet almost dragged on the ground! And when his feet are in the stirrups, his knees are up to the top of the saddle. He is very athletic and knows horses, but for some reason he gets a quechuan boy too! The whole trip! this kid wouldn't leave him alone. I can't stop laughing every time I look at him. And off we go at a crawling speed. Through plains, through streams, over mountains, through rocks, up on the steep cliffs, down in the valleys. Once again, I have to say the beauty of it all was just overwhelming. But after five hours of this and the saddle of steel, my butt is about as sore as it's ever been and I don't really give a crap what the scenery looks like.

We finally arrive at our destination, and I am so relieved, I had been feeling every last bump and counting the minutes. Well, our transportation isn't there, so Pancho says we have to walk down the hill...'just on the other side'. Another 40 minutes of hiking down steep paths filled with rocks and gravel. we all wanted to kill the guy.

It was quite the adventure. glad I did it. won't ever do it again, at least not with Pancho.

more later. marta juana

Hi all-
it's Tuesday and I've had two days in the prison. Yesterday was fairly emotional. to start - I go through all the guard check points and am decorated with their stamps up and down my arms -stamps that never wash off - and finally reach the women's section. I walk in and get a very warm welcome. A lot of the ladies come to greet me and i don't know how many cheeks I kiss. I walk around the quad and say hello to the ladies in the corners and then sit down at a table with Marleni, Carmen, Senovia and some others. They have a new table set up with a broken umbrella and a stool in the shade waiting for me. They ask about my family and I ask about theirs. We keep the conversation lighthearted for about the first hour, and finally I broach the subject of how things were going in the prison and the tone of the conversation just sinks. Our voices get lower, and you can just feel a heaviness in your chest. As we speak we all tear up. Evidently, there are now about 150 women in the prison as compared with about 120 when i was here in April. There are more children as well. All in all there are 1400 inmates for a facility that was built by Peruvian standards for 700. Marleni has been in for about 9 years now with no exit in site. Carmen the same. They both say 'maybe next year' but they might as well be saying 'maybe tomorrow'. And they are just saying that for my benefit. Marleni tells me how one day drags after another. they are all the same. She is perpetually tired. Carmen says how she was hoping to get a computer, but -and I didn't completely understand this- it was taken away and now she has no way to work on her appeal.
She says the last month has been very hopeless for her. She was explaining this to me with her eyes welling up, when one of the less educated inmates approaches her for help writing answers to questions posed by the prison 'psychologist' about her feelings in prison. Carmen doesn't miss a beat and wipes her eyes quickly, grabs a pen and starts helping the Quechua woman fill out the questionnaire. She is so much more educated than the others, I don't know what they would do without her.

They are disappointed when i tell them how long I am staying. I explain that I used mileage to get here, so I didn't have much flexibility in my dates of travel, but I was still trying to delay my return by a couple of days. Carmen understands 'mileage' immediately and explains it to the others. they nod, but I'm not sure they really understand how I flew for free. Carmen then asks me, "marta, do you have more mileage?' and I reply 'yes,' and she smiles at me and says 'good'. I laugh out loud.

I pull out the knitting design books I brought and we start looking at various ideas. Women keep walking over and sitting down or looking over our shoulders to see the pictures. anything new is just so exciting for them. even the little kids come and want to look at one magazine I have with shots of children in various outfits. These usually wild children sit with it for about 20 minutes looking at the pictures. You'd think I'd brought their favorite Dr. Seuss book.

Before it's time for me to leave, I speak with marleni about an idea I have had in the back of my mind somewhere, but I never had realized it until now. I explain to her that I will easily be able to sell their knitting in the U.S. for more than the cost of the alpaca and what i pay them, and I suggest that we put any additional money into a fund to help better the conditions for the women. She, of course, immediately picks up on the idea, and is very enthusiastic about it. This way, the individual women will get paid for their work, but the project will help everyone, which will help alleviate jealously about the work.

Also, there's an extreme difference in the prison between the women's and the men's side. The men have a wood workshop, a sewing room with about 20 machines, about 20 looms for weaving, and I don't know what else. The women have two sewing machines that were donated, a tin lean-to for shade and a bunch of stools to sit on. that's it. Marleni takes me to see the toilet - of which there are three - (no, I have never been to the toilet in the prison as many times as I've been there. it's never been on my 'to do' list. I religiously stop drinking water a good hour before I leave for the jail.) Anyway, it's a concrete hole in the ground with two demarcations of where you place your feet. There's water in a basin about 5 feet away where you are suppose to grab a bucket after using the 'facility' and splash off the concrete. She and Carmen and I explore the various possibilities of improving it. We go from the elaborate (which isn't possible) to the simple, which is what we stick with. they say we can pay the male inmates to improve it and buy the materials. Now, we aren't talking about a flushing toilet here, but a seat would be a huge improvement in my book. Evidently, you have to get approval, but if you have the money, it's not a problem. so that's our first project. after that, we are discussing some workshops to help them learn new skills.

So I might be fooling myself, but I left there yesterday feeling positive. I think even if things improve only a little at a time, it could spark a ray of hope in the women. and we all know without hope, you've got nothing.

Anyway, I'm just wiped. I'll write more later. I go to see Faustino's (the weaver's) family for lunch tomorrow. He won't be there because he is in Spain displaying his works. I called today and spoke with his wife meche and you would have thought I was her dead mother reincarnated by how excited she was to talk to me. It's just crazy.

love to you all,

Hi! I got back from the llama trek a couple of hours ago, and I went straight to the shower. Not only did I want to secure warm water, but I was filthy. Now, I've been camping a lot and a couple of days of smoke and dirt don't freak me out, but this was different. Maybe it was the hiking for 6 hours, the holes for toilets, the meals with the farm animals at your feet, sleeping with all of my clothes on because it was so cold and waking up sweating because 4 people sleeping together in a four man tent is just a little too cozy, the 5 hour horse back ride through rocks and dirt, or maybe it was just the dust and wind.

But let me tell you it was worth it. The scenery was incredible - gold and green grasses covering the mountains, huge outcroppings of rocks of all different shapes, deep blue skies with changing clouds. And as we went along, we'd come across groupings of mud huts with thatched roofs and loose rock walls holding a few livestock and a Quechuan family farming potatoes on the hill above. or we'd pass a Quechuan boy herding sheep or llamas with their bells ringing. or we'd pass a stream and there'd be a group of Quechuan women doing laundry with all of their clothes stretched out to dry on the rocks. It's just so desolate. you wonder how they live this hard life day in and day out with no change of routine and so little contact with other people.

Anyway, I am soooo tired. I'm off to the prison tomorrow morning to see all the ladies!

Buenas noches.

marta de las montanas

hola mis amigos - i'm back in Ayacucho, Peru. high in the Andes.
AND the best part is i'm NOT at the pink internet cafe down the
street! I brought my laptop so communicating is a snap. (do people
use that phrase anymore - snap? it might be in the generational
smoking 'dope' category) hopefully, i won't get too complacent and
boring. One bad thing, I lose my excuse for all my typos.
I just arrived this morning, so I have a killer headache. don't
know if it's from lack of sleep, or the altitude, or dehydration. So
I'm drinking water and coca tea. We'll see if that works.
I wanted to go see the women in the prison this morning, but my flight was three hours late, so I missed it. I'll have to wait until monday. But when I arrived, Marisol started dragging bag after bag out of her office filled with knitting! lots and lots of baby clothes and blankets! also some scarves and sweaters. some are absolutely darling, some are okay. I left most of the design up to the ladies so there's a mixture of stuff. BUT for all of my friends who live near me, I'm having an afternoon party at my house on December 7th, Sunday, to get everyone's feedback and to sell what I have. I want to get everyone’s opinion and narrow it down to maybe a dozen designs, so there's a little consistency. Almost all of it is 100% alpaca or 100% baby alpaca. Anyway, I'd say I don't want to put any pressure on you, but we all know that would be a lie. I do. and I am. If nothing else, just drop by for a glass of wine and say hi. SO MARK YOUR CALENDARS!!

i'm not going to lie. and i'm sure what i'm about to say will be no surprise to any of you, but I’m feeling depressed. we left Ayacucho yesterday and we are staying at the Marriott in lima. and i'm feeling a little useless and hypocritical, it's not that i don't love the wonderful bed here or sleeping without hearing dogs fighting at night or the roosters crowing at 5am. It's great watching CNN in English and not having to guess what exactly they are saying. But i must say that taking a shower in a bathroom that's as big as the cell that the women in prison sleep in with 5 others is a little obnoxious. it makes you wonder what is wrong with the world. I know that sounds trite, but i don't know how else to put it.

Hey everyone!

I can't believe my time is coming to a close in Ayacucho. Bob flies in tomorrow morning and we leave for Lima on Friday morning. But i'm leaving a bunch of yarn here, so i have to come back! anyone who wants to volunteer with me, let me know!

my weekend was uneventful. we were suppose to go on an overnight llama trek, but not enough people wanted to go, so it was canceled. just as well, as i caught a cold on Saturday. i definitely would have been the one dragging behind, riding the horse and chomping on coca leaves the whole way.

Speaking of which, we had an interesting talk last week by a professor from the local college who discussed green coca and white coca. Evidently, they have been growing coca and chewing the leaves for thousands of years. the leaves are legal here and are used by a lot of people...especially Quechua people. it's part of their history, their religious activities and it's allowed them to live and work in difficult locations. you chew it sort of like tobacco and leave it in your cheek for a couple of hours or so. Of course, i tried it and it just makes you feel like you had a strong cup of coffee. It's suppose to help with hunger, but it didn't affect me that way... nothing stops me from eating. The people in the jungle grow it and only recently have they begun to make it into cocaine. it takes a lot of harmful products to process it and before, most of it was sent out of the country for cocaine production. The farmers can grow up to 3 crops a year of coca leaves and obviously it is very profitable. A lot of controversy surrounds the whole subject. According to some people here, the police ignore the drug cartels who pay them off and go after the little guys like the ladies in the prison to show they are "doing something" to eradicate the problem.

On sunday afternoon, i took over the kitchen and make a ton of banana bread for the volunteers and the women in the prison. I figured it would be too crazy to make it with them, because I couldn´t even find an oven there and there would be no way that we could bake enough. A very nice young man who works at CCS on the weekend agreed to be my "mixer" and I told him i would teach him english while we were making the bread. He's 23 and wants to go into the tourism business. He's from the jungle and very sweet, but very shy. I told him if he wants to work with english speaking people, he had to be more assertive so i had him belting out his english phrases. I gave him a talk at the end of the day about how he has a lot of potential and is very smart, but that he has to apply himself and learn english very well. He gave me a big hug as if he hadn't had many words of encouragement. just made me a little sad. so many people in the world with so little support...everything that we take for granted. So yesterday I took a box filled with banana bread at the prison. Carmen, one of the women prisoners, took me all around the prison to hand it out. We went upstairs to the cells and around the courtyard area. It was really interesting to see the cells. Looked a little like a college dorm with all the pictures and the curtains around the beds, but there were four bunk beds in a room around 10x10. At first, some of the ladies were unsure because they thought that I was selling it, but they were all very polite and grateful. Carmen made a point to tell each one of them that "Martha spent ALL SUNDAY making the banana bread for us!" Yes, they all love me now. ;)

Today, i took my 35 mm camera to the prison to take photos of the kids. I had taken some on our field trips, but some of the littlest ones do go, so we needed some pictures of them to make cards for their moms for mothers day. This was a big deal. Marisol had to fill out a bunch of paperwork to get me permission to take my camera in. The social worker met us at once of the gates and explained I could only take pictures in the baby play area and that she was going to take my camera and meet us there. Of course they did the big body search and found my digital camera in my back pocket. I claimed foreign innocence and they took it from me to pick up on my way out.

Well, taking pictures of babies and their mothers is a nightmare. All of the ladies wanted a ton of different poises and some even brought a change of clothes for different shots! actually, it was really funny and I'm sure I would be the exact same way in their situation. Marisol and I had a little trouble managing all of them, but we got through it. The social worker took my camera back to the front gate and I went to the courtyard area to join the women.

That was my next big mob scene. I had asked Marisol to get me some small bills yesterday because I knew I needed to pay many of the women for their knitting and they never have any change of course. Well, she brought me a box full of coins! I started to pay the women one by one for their work and others saw the change and everyone wanted to exchange bills for coins with me. On Thursday, Friday and Saturday they are having a big fair at the prison where people come to buy their work and buy food from the prisoners. Evidently, change is hard to come by and I had a huge line of women (no, it wasn't really a line, just a crowd) wanting me to help them out. It was crazy - I got through all of them, although I had to raise my voice a couple of times that they had to wait or they weren't going to get anything...but i finally got out of there - late, but in one piece.

So that's it for now. my keyboard has 19 keys on it that are covered with paper with their letters on it and taped to the keys. not exactly a smooth typing experience. and the internet cafe's owner's little kid keeps coming over to me - the two year old who turned off the power of one of the volunteers computer last week just as he was completing a long email. And he has a twinkle in his eye!

love and kisses, marta juana