Peru 2009

Marcelo´s Story by Deacon Stickney

2009-06-23T12:07:08Z

This is a story from Pisco that continues to inspire the students. Marcelo (none of us knew his last name) was along with Percy, one of the hardest workers in making the floor for Abuelita Ana. We knew he was not related; he lived across the street. Why was he working so hard on our project, we wondered.

One day at sunset, while I waited with Mr. Daggett for the concrete to dry a bit before he finished polishing it, I sat with Abuelita Ana on a bench by the slab. We watched the sun set slowly over the Pacific Ocean, only a couple hundred feet from her house.

She explained that Marcelo was a child ten years ago. He and a friend of his hung out by the beach every day, child-age beach bums, if you will. One day, they went swimming, but his friend disappeared. Marcelo did not know what to do, so he just sat at the beach waiting. Abuelita Ana noticed him there and talked to him. Marcelo had no family to return to. After a week, the body washed back to the shore. Marcelo continued to stay at the beach, listless. Ana took him in to her house, and he has been with the family ever since.

She noticed that Marcelo sometimes goes into epileptic seizures, but cannot afford the medicatons to prevent this.

Marcelo rarely spoke while we were there. He would just grab a shovel and begin mixing or carrying load after load. When we tried to spell him, as we had to do for ourselves, he would wave us off and keep working. When we said our goodbyes, he broke into sobs and kept hugging us, with an emotion the men in Peru rarely display.

All of us remember Marcelo´s great devotion to the family and to us.

Report on ¨los chicos¨ by Deacon Stickney

2009-06-22T12:44:05Z

Joe is a decisive person, and he lets us know his decisions right away. Recently, he has declared his approval more often about the Peruvian cuisine, including almost everything the cook at Miguel Pro served and, yesterday afternoon in Cuzco, the mushroom soup and burrito. He scored a goal in our game with the fathers of the host families, and in one magnificent missed kick, did a complete somersault on the concrete without a scratch.

Peter is what they call a true ¨caballero,¨ a gentleman. Although he towers over the Peruvians, he is always gracious, helpful and curious to learn more. In Cusco, he is soaking up the sights.

Adam, for all his athleticism on the job, carrying wheelbarrows of concrete and on the soccer field hustling after the ball with all the zest of a linebacker in football, is quite a scholar. He wrote out his farewell to his family, had it translated, then read it to them at our farewell party on Sat night, changing many of the words into his best Latin pronunciations. Everyone enjoyed his enthusiasm. On the plane yesterday, he was explaining passages from Dante´s Divine Comedy that he found interesting.

Jimmy horsed around with his host-family brothers until the very end, they evidently were acting like true brothers. Here in Cuzco, his American radar located the McDonalds and within seconds was in line. We had to coax him back, but who knows if this morning he has not already chowed down on the Egg McMuffin, though he might have to reread Adam´s cautionary blog about Peruvianized American food.

Ben spoke his farewell in flawless Spanish. He has mastered ingress and egress from multiple modes of transportation: bus, taxi, minivan, airplane, mototaxi. He even made his way up the steep street of slippery ancient cobbles on the way to the San Blas procession.

Blake acted like the big brother to 10 year old Martin, his host-brother. He bought a soccer ball for him, and when Martin broke down as he tried to speak at the farewell ceremony, Blake went over, sat down next to him and consoled him, putting his arm around him.

Roger was one of the ¨stokers¨ for the beastly cement mixer, feeding its hungry craw for each round. Even I could not pull the shovel from his determined hands. Yesterday, he bought a stylish alpaca sweater but noticed a hole in the should seam. He was quite impressed that the saleswoman sewed it up with an alpaca strand in just a minute.

San Blas Procession in Cusco by Deacon Stickney

2009-06-22T02:47:16Z

After extended goodbyes with our host families in Tacna, we flew to Cusco. Some of us got headaches from the 10k foot altitude, but after a late lunch all were feeling fine enough to go shopping and touring. After visiting the immense Cathedral filled with gold-leaf reredos and hints of Incan theology hidden in the artisanship, some of us went to where the sound of a band announced a procession in honor of St. Blaise.

Most of us are familiar with the blessing with candles in early February on his feast day, but I did not realize that he was an Armenian bishop who was also a doctor and the patron saint of gynecologists. For that reason the statue here has red gloves. Also why many expectant families come to pray in this church.

I got to the church just when the band entered the square after a procession. The statue, at least 15 feet tall, including mini statues of assisting priests and acolytes, was sitting on a platform in the square outside the church.

Suddenly, around 30 men in San Blas vests emerged from the crowd and took their places at three poles beneath the statue, which must weigh as much as a car. They lifted it on their shoulders as the band struck up as reverent a tune as a brass band with drums could muster. The men began shuffling forward, then turning right and left. When the band struck certain notes, the porters all genuflected and made the sign of the cross. It was an arduous prayer, taking strength and coordination. I thought it was the male counterpart to the efforts of childbirth. The stature swayed and bobbed.

The band struck up a second piece, this one faster, and the carriers shuffled around in circles even faster. I was terrified that they would stumble under the weight. I didn´t know who to be afraid for more, the statue, the men or the crowd, which had to give way repeatedly to the swaying, almost drunken lurches of the men. Then, the doors of the chuch swung open, and the statue started to surge up the 20-foot flight of stairs, just as suddenly, it slipped back down the steps toward the crowd.

That was when the firecrakers went off. To call them firecrackers does not do them justice, for they were more like sonic booms. One series, two series, three, four, five, interspersed with the wild allegrettos of the band, until finally the men squeezed into the portal with the statue, the miter of Bishop Blaise and his shepherd´s crook just barely fitting into the space.

For a moment, the statue was poised at the door, as if to say his goodbyes, to the sound of even more sonic explosions.

When the statue was finally swallowed into the church, I joined the rush to enter. I made it in just before the band leader held more of the crowd back, so that the musicans could enter. Their brazen horns, which filled the plaza outside, were nearly deafening inside.

The whole event was a form of excessive, passionate prayer. One could not help but be swept up with the power of childbirth, which San Blas´ intercession is meant to protect.

I stayed in the ensuing silence for a few minutes with the men in vests and the faithful who pressed close to the statue, once more near its place at one side of the nave. I prayed fervently for my daughter-in-law Anya, about the give birth in August to our first grandchild.

Our Pilgrimage Retreat by Deacon Stickney

2009-06-20T23:49:33Z

After working for a week, we took a break on Thurs June 18th for a retreat. We called it a ¨pilgrimage retreat,¨ because in addition to prayer and discussion, we visited three places where people of faith are making a difference.

Our three themes reflected the ¨hermenuetic circle¨ of doing justice that frees us from poverty: See, Act and Evaluate. For seeing, we meditated on blind Bartimaeus (Mark 10), listening to Jesus ask us ¨What do you want me to do for you,¨ and considering that we could ask, with Bartimaeus, ¨Master, I want to see,¨ to really see the situation of the poor today.

The second mediation, stressing Action, was on the Rich Young Man, also from Mark 10, where Jesus, ¨looking with love¨ on a young man eager to prove his virtue, challenges him to sell his possessions and follow him. We too, are challenged to not just to sacrifice 3 weeks, but to make it our life´s habit to include the poor in our actions and our careers.

Then, we hopped on public buses (c. $.15 a person) to visit a poor high school, Santa Cruz, run by the same priests who sponsor Univ. of Notre Dame in the US. It is in a huge ¨invasion¨ area, where people displaced from the mountains and jungle are flooding to the coasts. They build little houses of estera, or woven cane.

The school, only 5 years old, has grown with the neighborhood; there are still some classrooms of estera, yet they are building some with block. The enthusiasm of the children was overwhelming.

Next stop was a Brophy-type school, Cristo Rey, which Fr. Green, S.J., started in the 1960s. It is the best school in the city, to all accounts, with a classroom of internet computers where students are designing web pages, an inside Gym (a rarity in Peru) and a GRASS soccer field.

There is also a cow with its calf, guinea pigs (which if you haven´t heard about cuy, are NOT raised as pets) and acres of olive groves. It warmed my composter´s heart to know that the middle and upper class students are required to spend some time milking and harvesting.

After lunch downtown, we gathered by the Eiffel fountain under a Bougainvillea cupola and meditated on the Beatitudes, stressing the happiness of those who dedicate themselves to voluntary poverty. Mr. Daggett looked like a street preacher, waving his Bible around as he spoke. We then discussed an article ¨The Cost of Short-Term Trips.¨ Which gave us guidelines on how to avoid paternalistic mistakes many make when they come to poor countries.

We finished our day by visiting a center for street children, which was started by a Jeff Thielman, a Jesuit volunteer in the ´80s. Originally it was meant primarily for shoe-shine children and others who had no schooling, but it has evolved into an after school program and adult education center. Doctors who graduated from Cristo Rey started a pro-bono clinic there. There is also a sewing workshop, where poor women can learn a trade.

We had all read Jeff´s book about how he started the center, so it was a fitting end to our retreat to see how his sacrifice and that of the Jesuits and their staff is a living example of the happiness of the poor. When we arrived, the children were assembled for a talent show. Smiles and enthusiasm all around our knees!

Watching Team Brophy In Peru (BIP) by Margaret Daggett

2009-06-17T16:47:29Z

After lunch I stopped by the job site to see the progress. There was great milling around as everyone reapplied sun block, donned work their gloves and looked with pride at what they had accomplished in the morning. They had set three of the caged columns and filled the front trench with concrete:

The trenches are each about 30 inches deep and an extra 8-10 inches deeper at the point of each column:

They are wide enough that kids took naps in them at times -sorry I couldn´t get a picture of that! But, it is now after lunch and some are having more difficulty getting motivated back to work than others:

Suddenly, it was as though someone turned on a switch! Everyone was up and moving and it brought memories of Christmas movies to mind--you know the ones where all the elves are feverishly working on assembly lines to complete all the toys.

The cement mixer operator started the mixer, added water and cement. The mixer was flipped and two guys started shoveling sand and rock into it:

Then three guys lined up with their wheel barrows, the mixer was flipped again to fill each wheel barrow in turn:

Each full wheel barrow was pushed over to the designated spot, tipped and the concrete poured into the trench:

As the cement is poured into the trench, two guys make sure the column cage has been stabilized, kept level and plumb, as they push and guide the concrete to fill the area:

As the trenches are filled, another guy drops big rocks into the concrete to give greater strength and to assume a lot of the volume:

This assembly continues again and again. There is no talking. Everyone´s energy is concentrated to the work. Again and again and again. Team Brophy in Peru!

Enjoying Brophy Students in Peru! By: Margaret Daggett

2009-06-16T17:04:26Z

I have tagged along on this Peru trip with my husband, Mr. Daggett, for the purpose of seeing Peru. But I´ve had the pleasure of hanging out here in Peru with some amazing kids! Here are just a few of my impressions.

I spent most of our time in Pisco being sick, but I did attend the baptism and the party following. What a hoot to watch how the cultures blended as the family welcome us all into their home where they had moved all the furniture against the wall and turned up the music for dancing! The students clustered, encouraging one another to be the first to ask a young lady to dance--Adam did it! Soon everyone was dancing. Jimmy and Joe were entertaining the little boys with jokes, wrestling and nonsense. Roger even was able to charm Adrianna (the 2 yr old who was baptized) to dance with him--and she did not warm up to any of the rest of us!

When Ben had his soccer accident, it was interesting to see all the students surround him, offering their amateur medical advice, lift him into the taxi and be very solitious. Then they all made sure he was included in everything: bringing him home food when he couldn´t go to dinner with us, helped him get around before he got the crutches, carried his luggage, helped him on and off the buses. They were all the best EMT´s! And, Ben, never one to take advantage, did not complain at all. But once he got those crutches, he has become VERY independent.

Here in Tacna, I have had the chance to work with the students on the work site--I did not think there would be any work that I could do or that Ben could do,

but someone found some! The land here is sandy and rocky and there are lots of earthquakes so the people have developed a building process that is significantly different from the US. Initially, very deep footings are dug. But because the land is so sandy, it is necessary to wet the ground to prevent cave-ins along the trenches. Here are the students on the first day of digging:

Then it is bent into a rectangle: (Jim started this job but Blake took over and made literally 190 of them!)

Someone cuts small wire into hundreds and hundreds of 10¨ lengths: (guess who got this job!)

Finally, the rectangles are tied to larger rebar with the small wires to create the cage for each pillar. The house we are working on requires nine pillars so the students work on these and the digging at the same time, rotating jobs to keep all the muscles warm:

What an amazing experience this is! I wish everyone could have as much fun as I am having!

The Misadventures of a Few Gringos in Peru by Adam Triplett

2009-06-16T14:38:35Z

I thought it would be nice to take a break from the more serious, intelligent tone of the blog to give an insight into some of the smaller things that have happened on the trip. I´d like to share with you the experience that has changed all of us, in one way or another.
      Hungry and homesick? What´s a better cure than pizza right? The gas station about a mile away from the hostel in Pisco had, what appeared to be, amazing, American style pizza in the pictures above the oven. Jimmy, myself, and Mr. Jarczyk were sent to retrieve said pizzas, so we ordered 5 nice, big, presumably tasty, pizzas and awaited their grand appearance from the oven in the gas station.
      Normal gas stations have some cigarettes, candy, some sugary drinks, and the nice ones might even have some liquor. This was no normal gas station. This was Peru. It had a whole room stock full of nostalgia-enducing candies that were sure to make the palette of any American salivate in hopeful anticipation of the gratification of an Oreo cookie or a skittle. This area would certainly be claimed in the name of Brophy in the days to come.
      Along with the amazing, yet seemingly out of place, candy, there were soft drinks, some Redbull, and other Peruvian sodas like Inka Cola (a trip favorite) and Peru Cola. There was also a whole wall which I´m sure has only appeared to people in dreams. Bottle after bottle of assorted liquors, wines, and beers, including a very large amount of Pisco, straight from Pisco.
      The absurdity of this gas station finally culminated in the pizzeria, which now holds the life line between Peru and the US for several Americans craving American food in it´s very ovens. This is not to say that Peruvian food is bad, but there is a limit for chaufa and saltado, this said limit had been reached for some.
      The conversation between myself, Jimmy, and Mr. Jarczyk while we awaited our doughy prizes spanned topics from photography to what Brophy was like a decade ago. This talk was just a side note for what we were all really thinking; it was just a matter of time until 5 pizzas, 5 pizzas which would fill the tanks of some very weary and sore volunteers, and would spring from the ovens only meters away. These pizzas were the Ellis Island of our hopes and dreams, a gateway back home, even if just for one meal.
      I have never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. She emerged from the haze of the wood burning ovens in the kitchen holding the Holy Grail to our Crusade in deceivingly plain, white boxes. There was no disguise cunning enough to tempt us through the trail of us Templars.
      With the pizzas in hand, we hailed a moto taxi and within minutes were on our way to the hostel to deliver the captured prize. That´s when disaster struck. The sound was unmistakable; it was the death rattles of a moto taxi, our golden chariot across the skys, gave a very unwelcome ado just meters away from the gas station. The frantic pulls from the driver to restart his moto were all but futile. He quickly clambered out of the vehicle as he saw his passengers were growing impatient. We watched his head bob around near the engine compartment from the rear window of the taxi as he struggled to breathe a new life into his once great stallion.
      At that moment, another miracle occurred. After obtaining our cheesy, American goodness, I could not imagine that the night could get better, lest I jinx my luck. But alas! The moto roared to life after the driving once again began to chug away on the pull start; roaring is of course relative to a 150cc scooter engine. Once again our precious cargo was on it´s way to its final destination, the stomachs of our patiently awaiting comrades.
      We arrived at the hostel in a matter of moments and we quickly exited the moto, taking precaution to ensure the safety of the pies and pay the driver for his valiant efforts. The 5 solitary white boxes were rushed to the second floor where a circle had gathered; a scene reminiscent of The Lord of the Flies ensued. The boxes were torn apart, knives delicately, but deliberately, divided the slices, and the portal to our distant home opened.
      We each had a slice at the ready, ready to be chewed, ready to be enjoyed, ready to be digested. We bit in. It was delicio- wait, what is this?! Aghast, we had been fooled! This was not pizza, but a foul, sweetly flavored imposter! It had suckered us in and made us to believe it was truly pizza. We had been duped! There was not even a faint hint of the marinara or rich mozzarella for which we craved. All this buildup, only to be had by an inadequate, unsavory con to our taste buds.
      The portal had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the gates closed, the Grail once again lost to the sands of time. This hack left us crazing American pizza all the more. We went to bed that night with a lesson learned, a lesson about pizza in a Peruvian gas station. Hopefully upon completion of this tale you too will realize our fated mistake.

Adjusting to Life with the Families by Blake Senn

2009-06-14T04:56:33Z

Tacna is different from Pisco in many ways. Tacna is more like Arizona and Phoenix because it is more of a desert. It is very dry and is full of sand. Perhaps the greatest change has been the transition from staying with each other in a hostel to living with a family. The family is more than gracious to take you in and attempts to make it as close to home as possible for you. In my own case I have my own room which undoubtably been sacraficed for my sake, and the rest of the family shares a room with eachother and the last room is their office. Immediately when I arrived they questioned me on what I liked and asked me about America, also they shared about themselves and who they were. I quickely found out I would be their primarily source for knowledge about what America was like, which in one sense scared me cause I knew my Spanish would compromise me in certain areas, but I think I managed relatively well. It was awkward at first being in a different country, in another family´s house and they speak a different language than you. Now after a couple of days it has gotten better though and a sort of routine has been established. Wake up, breakfast, go to work, return home, shower, eat dinner then afterward play futbol with neighborhood kids for an hour or more. Once you return home talk for a while with the family which can still be difficult at times and then go to sleep and repeat over again. Although with tomorrow being Sunday which means a day off of work there will sure to be a slightly different plan for the day. Whatever it is I am going into it optimistically and hopeful to further my relationship with the family and gain all I can from the experience and the others to come.

Our Trip So Far by Peter Johnson

2009-06-14T04:55:34Z

It is truly incredible to think that our trip is already about half way over. It seems like yesterday that we were saying goodbye to our families and leaving for the greatest adventure of our lives. We have been able to pack many incredible experiences into these past weeks including, driving through the destitute streets of Lima, rebuilding a house for a family that lost everything in an earthquake and staying with loving host families, just to name a few. I am sure that I speak for the entire trip when I say these past weeks in Peru have been the most influencial weeks of our lives. We have all learned a lot, and will continue to learn even more. Although I am sad that the trip is already half way over, I am also excited for the many great experiences that have yet to come.

A Peruvian Party by Roger Bond-Choquette

2009-06-14T04:54:15Z

They take their baptisms quite seriously in Pisco. At times it seemed liked a small wedding, but it was definitely one of those experiences that plunged you right into Peruvian culture. The church of the baptism, San Francisco de la Playa, was very symbolic of the surrounding community: simple, poor, and full of people. It was a short ceremony, only about 30 minutes, and three babies from the family with whom we worked were baptised.
Directly after the service ended, pictures with the "gringos" commenced, as many, many were taken. We took some cabs to a rather large house (by Pisco standards), toasted the baptism of the baby, ate chicken and chaufa (fried rice), drank easily over a metric ton of inka kola and started to dance. Though it was (extremely) awkward at first, soon everyone was up and dancing -- including Mr. Jarczyk at one point in time. It was amazing to experience a pure and unadulterated aspect of Peruvian culture, because so many times when traveling we get caught in the tourist part of a country, which really isn´t the country at all. There are some pictures and a sypnopsis of the baptism and party below, but I wanted to share my take on the party. ¡Hasta luego!

A Blog by José deLobo by Joe DeWulf

2009-06-14T04:52:50Z

In this blog I really want to focus on the work we have done here in Tacna, and what we have done in our free time. So far here in Tacna we have just been digging, but it has been some really tough work. I have a few blisters on my hands because we are constantly shoveling. Even though my whole body is failing, the work is very rewarding because at the end of every day we get to see what we have done. Also we always look forward to lunch because the lunch we have had in the cafeteria has been awesome. We have had fried chicken and this twice baked potato thing. But then it is back to work. After work is done for the day, we all still have enough energy to play some soccer, a lot of futbol! It is really fun for us all to play soccer with the Peruvians even though most of them are much better then we are. Ha Ha. Sometimes I even go out with my house brother to play soccer at like 9 or 10 at night. So far my house family has been really nice to mel, but it is a little hard to communicate with everyone accept for my brother. I have some really great stories to tell about the bathroom issues.

Well I will hopefully blog soon. Hopefully there are not to many spelling errors. haha

Tacna, Peru by Jimmy Wentworth

2009-06-14T04:51:45Z

Here we are, Tacna, Peru! It has been a fun, interesting, and very educational so far, and I can´t believe it, but it is half-over! Our work has been tough, our Spanish much better, and our hearts and minds changed. In Tacna, we are staying with host families, which has turned out to be a fun and interesting experience, full of new adventures (like trying to express yourself in a foreign language). Yesterday we started our work on a house by digging ditches or footings for the exterior walls. In the mornings we have breakfast with family, afternoons we have work on the house, (delicious) lunch at the local school, at nights we have dinner with family and a big soccer game after that. A lot here in Tacna is different than in Phoenix, or Pisco even, but interesting and fun in its own way.

Life on One Foot by Ben Jackson

2009-06-14T04:49:36Z

¨Yo roto mi pie¨, has been a common response that I have had to give many people in Pisco and here in Tacna. As many of you have probably read in the other blog entries, I broke my foot after we had finished our last working day in Pisco. This has disabled me from doing much of the physical labor in Tacna, but has allowed me to get a few experiences that the other guys may not have while on the trip. For instance here in Tacna I was able to shadow my host brother in school for two periods (Math and English). This was pretty cool to see where kids our age are in these two classes. In Math the students were learning about circumference and the different equations of it, but English class was totally different. In English I was used as a subject for questioning by the students, which was really cool and I hope that they learned a lot from me and what I had to share. Many of the kids in this English class were really shy because they had to talk to me (a foreigner) in my language, which from my experience in trying to talk in Spanish to Spanish-speaking people has been a really hard thing to do and I could relate to them in that way and I am extremely grateful for being given that experience. So far I am extremely happy with the things that I have learned in Peru even through the misfortunes and I hope to continue to keep learning as much as I can.

The Greatest Game Ever Played by Adam Triplett

2009-06-14T04:47:05Z

Some would argue that it is basketball, baseball, or maybe even football. But no, the greatest game ever played has to be charades. Nothing has come more in handy to me than charades in the previous day and a half or so of living with the families here in Tacna. Although I´m lucky enough to have a family that speaks some English, hand signals still transcend the language barrier.
In Pisco we would go out and work for the day and be immersed in the Peruvian culture, but at the end of the day we would still go back to the hostel and be able to spend a night with our peers. Since our arrival in Tacna, we have spent more time with our host families than with each other. It´s truly an enlightening experience to have plunged right into the middle of a normal family in Peru. My family reminds me a lot of my own; the mother would like nothing more than to have me eat until I burst, because she is worried that I´m not eating enough, there are several little girls, one of which is just older than my niece and another who is just learning to walk, I was lucky enough to see her take some of her first steps actually. A great comment from the mother during almost every meal is that she wants me to be "strong like the Incas" so she is sure to sit at the table while I eat everything in front of me. However, it is different to live in a household with several generations, the grandmother, mother, and oldest daughter with her own children, whereas back home I just live at home with my mom, and my sisters have their own houses not far from my mother and me.
Although this is only the second day in the house, I feel like part of the family, as they told me at dinner last night, and I am just as comfortable here as I would be back home. I´ll try to write more later about my experiences in the house with my host family, but my first impressions are good and I hope I made the same impression with them.

Safe Arrival to Tacna

2009-06-12T01:04:03Z

We arrived safely in Tacna at about 10 am this morning. Our bus ride went smoothly and all the boys (and teachers) are with host families. We finally found some crutches for Ben so he can get around a little bit. We are starting our work project tomorrow and will be posting some pictures and reflections soon.

Peace,

JP Jarczyk