Deeper into the Onion

The longer we stay in one place, the more of our new world reveals itself to us.  Each day is yet another layer of skin off of the onion.

At first glance, Peru is an awe-inspiring natural wonder, with mountains steeply rising meters away from our front door and a crystal blue sky framing both the landscape and the human activities bustling and hustling below us.  This image retains its potency, but as time passes, we look up to admire it less and less often.  We focus on the issue of the hour, or the goal for the day, forgetting the beauty that drew us here, that continues to beckon to millions of visitors every year.  The natural beauty and grandeur of Pachamama is like a deep, clean breath, helping us to refocus on the things that are important. 

I need a deep blue lungful right now.  Because as I unknowingly trod across the delicate garden of this culture, I learn more and more about the individuals, the families, the groups, and the country itself.  And not all of it is roses.  First-hand cultural education is necessarily full of tripping hazards.  The more involved we are with the people around us – one of our main goals in this experience - the more we learn, and not always the easy way. 

I, like many extraneros, came to Pisac wanting to do some good for someone other than myself.  I wanted to volunteer my skills and time and give to a group that needed what I had to offer.  I am so much more fortunate than so many people here.  And so I taught ceramics to high school kids and English to elementary and high school kids.  I offered after school lunch-and-learn English sessions.  I ferried delicate kiln-loads of student projects back and forth between school and the local potter’s studio across town.  I made a hot lunch (a daunting task for me!) for kids so they wouldn’t have to walk 45 minutes to their homes and 45 minutes back again just to participate in class. 

I paid for school supplies and transported heavy boxes of donated books from Cusco on a crowded bus.  I searched high and low for glaze for the ceramics students.  In short, I did what any parent would do for their kids’ school in the US.  The big difference is that I did all of this in a foreign language of which I can only claim about 25% proficiency, in a new culture whose customs and systems are strange and obscure to me, in a foreign land where I do not know my way around.  Hence, I misstepped and made mistakes.  I stepped on the proverbial prize-winning rose, resulting in bloody scratches from the invisible thorns of Peruvian manners.

As my big, fat American foot came crashing down, I did not see a valuable garden full of significant blooms and healing leaves, but a weed-choked patch of rocky soil.  It was only after I mangled a few plants that I was told that they are beautiful to their owners.  Now, I look again and try to see it.  I understand the idea, but it is still difficult to truly recognize the nurtured buds from the despised prickle bushes.  And so it is with human emotions and the border between individuality and group cohesion.  As I go about my daily business, trying to fulfill goals and achieve some form of success, I find that I am, in the end, working for myself, evaluating my work by the standards that I brought with me from home.  I am selfishly building my own castle, regardless of whether it truly benefits the people I am here, supposedly, to help.  I forget to look up at the grand beauty of the place, forget to remember where I am and why.  The garden is not mine. 

But even as I acknowledge these things to myself, I grapple with the fact that I personally do not agree with some of the values and ideas widely held in my new community.  Some of the purported ‘flowers’ remain weeds to me.  Where does ‘working for people who need help’ stop and ‘working against my own standards’ begin?  Although I support part of the vision and message disseminated by the different groups I work with, there are some finer points that I find unrealistic and even self-defeating.  Sometimes the grand plan, as gorgeous and well-intentioned as it may be, needs to make room for the realities of modern life in an impoverished country.  Of course the same can be said in reverse.  In the end, these two extremes both are needed to further a stronger, healthier, more stable world. 

The fact that I am able to perceive and participate in these conflicts at all is proof that I have penetrated past the surface, through a few of the top-most layers of life in Pisac, the symbolic onion.  Through my gaffes, I discover weak spots, the edge between courtesy and real emotion.  My errors introduce me to the personal quirks and sensitivities of individuals and I start to understand, slowly and reluctantly sometimes, more about these people I am here to assist and learn from.  The deeper I am integrated into this small community, the more opportunity I have to screw up – and to do more meaningful work.  In one sense, mistakes offend, but they also mean that something is happening.  

Conflicts arise like tectonic plates coming together - the big picture ramming up against the details.  Either the plates grind together, turning both sides into dust, or one passes over the other, taking its turn in the superior position this time.  Meaningful conflict shines a light on a side of people unknown to the passer-by.  For a foreigner, it is a privilege to see, even though at times it may appear ugly.  The people in question might find those facets of themselves attractive.  Which causes pause.  If what we call a blemish, they exalt, perhaps what we ourselves pride, they consider a fault.  There is no universal truth.  This realization allows us to re-examine our belief systems and decide, now that we see that there is a choice, how we want to perceive character traits, in ourselves, in others and in groups and communities. 

Above all, being aware at a level where we can participate, even in unpleasant conflicts, is a reward in and of itself.  It is an opportunity that informs us.  It broadens our awareness and allows us to experience life differently than we normally would.  It is proof that we are more than just a stranger passing through.  We are making a difference.  The question remains, however, a difference for whom?  Is it me that is changed by this new understanding, or the others?  Or do we both grow closer to that wide, calm, middle-ground that is acceptance and understanding?  That is my goal.

Cathy

Matt’s Water Filter Volunteer Work

So far, I haven’t written too much about the details of my volunteer work in Peru so I thought I’d take this opportunity to do so.  I am working for a group called DESEA.  Their leaders are a Canadian couple named Sandy Hart and Sandra McGirr; they have been in Peru for about three years and have two kids (Tarn, age 13 and Niall, age 15).  They work with a nurse and other co-workers from Peru, as well as volunteers from both Peru and the US.  As described in our blog sidebar, DESEA’s mission is to improve the health of people in rural areas by providing bio-sand water filters and improved community health care and education, including through the training of local women to become health care workers and nurses in these areas.  This is also helping to build local capacity to meet these vital community needs in the long term.  DESEA provides these services at no cost to community residents and relies entirely on grants and donations to fund their activities, with additional technical assistance provided by several International non-profit groups. 

So what is my role in all this?  For the last couple of months, I have been helping Sandy on the water filter end of things.  During the last three years, DESEA has built 100-150 filters per year, using concrete filter containers based on models developed by the Centre for Affordable Water and Sanitation Technology (CAWST) in Alberta, Canada.  This model has several advantages.  The materials for the filter containers and filtration media – sand, gravel and cement – are almost universally available locally.  The design has been rigorously tested and refined by CAWST during the last 20 years.  And the construction practices are relatively straightforward and can be undertaken by local community members with a certain amount of supervision by DESEA personnel.  However, the concrete filters have a couple of major drawbacks.  Most significantly, they are very heavy, weighing about 150-200 pounds before adding the filter media.  This makes transporting them to dispersed home sites and small villages in the Andes mountains very difficult, given a lack of good vehicles and paved roads.  Having lugged one up a steep rocky trail with Sandy yesterday, I can personally attest to this.  In addition, the sand and gravel used for their construction must be thoroughly cleaned, a time-consuming process.  Finally, if not constructed carefully and correctly, cracks and leaks can develop in the concrete shells.  For these reasons, DESEA is investigating lighter-weight alternatives for the filter containers, specifically use of a PVC filter shell.

Concrete filter photos and diagram

I’ve been doing several things to help with these efforts:

      -  Building more concrete filters.  DESEA is continuing to build concrete filters, in part to replace several faulty or damaged filters delivered to three of its target communities during the last two years.  Helping build these filters involves washing sand and gravel, cleaning, preparing and assembling steel filter molds and mixing and pouring concrete to create the filter boxes.  It also has included coming up with a new material for the filter outlet pipe.  I’ve helped procure copper tubing (to replace the flexible vinyl tubing used up to this point) and then figure out a way to form the tubing into a sort of elongated S-shaped outlet tube which is partially encased in the concrete filter shell.  I’ve also helped repair some of the faulty filters and reinstall them in people’s homes.

      -  Designing a new PVC filter container.  We and other groups have been working on designs for lighter-weight PVC filter containers.  We’ve been lucky to build on the work of a man named Dennis St. John in Arizona and have benefitted from significant technical assistance from the people at CAWST.  We also got some great ideas from a French engineer who I happened to meet on a trip to Lake Titicaca and who later visited our workshop here (a longer story for another blog).  My job has been to help identify sources for materials in the city of Cusco, investigate, sketch and test different filter pipe configurations, and do calculations related to flow and filter rates, etc.  Early on I also spent some time doing Internet research about possible opportunities to buy filter containers already manufactured by other non-profit groups or companies.  Ultimately, this didn’t prove to be cost-effective for us, given high shipping costs.

      -  Helping write grant proposals.  Lately DESEA has been working on two large grant proposals, one of which is a federal grant program administered by the US Agency for International Development (USAID) along with a consortium including the Gates Foundation, the Swedish and Canadian governments and a couple of other partners.  I helped navigate this federal grant process, prepared the cost proposal section of the application and ensured that the proposal was turned in on time via an electronic submittal process.

      -  Checking out our target communities.  We’ve made one trip up to the communities to be served by filters in the coming year to more accurately estimate the number of households there.  In the next several weeks, we will be making more trips to ascertain interest in obtaining filters and collect more information about household characteristics, etc.  I’m really looking forward to this aspect of my assistance.  As noted above, I’ve also visited previous target communities to repair and reinstall a number of filters.

      -  Helping prepare a workshop.  Before my arrival, Sandy had built a small workshop to construct future water filters.  He had previously been working on-site in the target communities but has moved operations closer to home to ensure better quality control and for ease of assembling the new PVC filters.  During my first week here, I helped build new shelving for the workshop and help generally get it in order.

(Sideways picture of) New PVC Filter Prototype (design since modified)

I have been blessed to do all of this under what I would describe as very favorable working conditions.  Sandy and Sandra are great people to work with – competent, caring, generous and funny.  We get along extremely well.  Most of the time, I’m working at Sandy and Sandra’s house in Lamay, about eight miles from where I live in Pisac.  It sits on an acre or two of land next to a stream just outside of town, with beautiful views of the surrounding valleys and mountains.  The hours are totally flexible and I work about five to six hours a day on average, four days a week, not counting traveling their by bus and foot which takes about 45 minutes each way.  We’ll eventually be working some much longer days when we deliver filters to target communities in the mountains.  However, my current schedule gives me lots of time to spend with my girls, helping them adjust to life here (although they’re pretty well adjusted at this point), assisting with and correcting their school work, shopping for food at local outdoor markets (or the local “mini-market”), cooking Peruvian food, writing blog entries and going on the occasional hike and sightseeing adventure.  While I love my job, colleagues, friends and family back in Portland, this has been a welcome break from life there and a very fulfilling volunteer experience so far.

Sandy and Sandra's Place Where I Work in Lamay

Matt

More Than A Vacation

As you all know, the Hastie family came to Peru for more than just a vacation.  The girls are enrolled in school and participate in community gatherings with the other kids here.  Cathy teaches English and ceramics at the 80-student, K-12 school in Pisac that focuses on Andean culture.  Matt volunteers at DESEA, an NGO working at the barest-of-bones, grass-roots level to bring safe drinking water and health information to high Andes communities.  DESEA focuses on maternal and infant health with bio-sand water filters and health clinics, and has already significantly reduced infant and maternal deaths in these areas.  The DESEA web site tells more: http://www.deseaperu.org/.

Now we are investing ourselves in one more endeavor:  helping a teenager from Pisac participate in a high school exchange program in the US called ISE.  In fact, we have invited him to come live with us for a year.

If you have ever participated in an exchange program, you may know how complicated and expensive it is for the student.  Cathy has been coordinating the documents for the student and hopes to have him accepted at Cleveland High School this month.  The most difficult part is raising money to pay the program fee.  The US host family and the in-Peru volunteer (Cathy and Matt are filling both of these roles) get nothing.  The $3,200 the student needs to raise goes toward insurance, document fees, background checks, and the student visa.

If you would like to support our endeavors – DESEA and ISE - please send Cathy an email letting us know how much money you would like to donate and to which pursuit (cathyhastie@comcast.net).  We are in the process of setting up a scholarship account for the exxchange student; DESEA donations can be made through their sponsoring organization, Capitol City Medical Teams in Salem (4950 Chauncey Court, Salem, OR 97302), or through Paypal at www.deseaperu.org/6.html.

The Hastie family thanks you all for your support and your well-wishes.  We look forward to seeing you all in the Fall!