In three days, we will end the first half of our programme together. We will transition from living together to living with host families. Over the past six weeks, we have learned to live as a community and as a family. We start to pick up on each other’s habits, knowing exactly who will show up late and who is making tea when. We know who is waking up early to do pilates and who is out getting crepes or cupcakes. These little habits that we’ve come to find so normal have made Roca Fuerte and the people around us feel like home.
To celebrate this milestone, we held a bonfire. We started by talking about what we missed from home: the sibling squabbling, our beds or meals. We took a moment to think about how grateful we were to have these elements in our life. Then, we shifted to those around us. We passed around our journals and wrote a sentence or two of gratitude to each person, filling up two pages with heartfelt appreciation we will take with us to our host families and beyond, reminding us of the enduring sense of community have nurtured together. Finally, we took a moment to write down what we were grateful for in our house, in Urubamba and in Peru. Locals’ patience with our crusty Spanish, the towering mountain views and the abundance of fruit filled the pages. After sharing out loud, we threw them into the fire, letting our gratitude be transformed into hope for the future.
About to start our next adventure, I feel a real sense of gratitude. For the people back home, the people here and the place that surrounds me. I will miss the little habits that turned into everyday actions but am looking forward to discovering the habits of a new family. The fire may have burned out, but its light will stay with us as we step into this next chapter.
This weekend has been one of my favorite weekends ever. Back at home, I always look forward to the weekends since it’s the time where my whole family gets together, goes to church and have meals all together. We all (12 of us) go to my aunt’s house and eat a homecooked meal and listen, dance, and sing to music.
This weekend reminded me a lot about weekends with my family. Flora, Axelle, Avery, and I decided to spend our weekend in the markets, since it’s one of our last weekends in the city before we leave to homestays. I loved spending time with them especially because I miss my family. We tried various foods and drinks during the markets. We did a lot of shopping and laughed a lot.
It amazes me how even the simplest activities or actions make one so happy, because of the people you do them with. I have learned that a family is not only those blood-related to you, but also those who you choose to be around.
This last month has really been something else. I can confidently speak for everyone here when I say that we have fallen in love with Urubamba—with waking up to the mountains every morning, with the slower pace of life, with the rich culture, with the yummy new foods. We have made it a habit of attending salsa classes with our favorite local teacher, Raymi, of exploring new foods at the market, and of strengthening ties with our regulars (Los Ángeles, the pollo a la brasa place down the street, the churro spot on the corner, and the convenience store next door to Roca Fuerte). We have our group favorites, of course: locro de zapallo, arroz chaufa, pachamanca, and ceviche. We’ve been dabbling in soccer with locals and learning about local arts (silversmithing, ceramic techniques, Peruvian cuisine). I cannot express my thanks enough to those who made it possible for us to be here (my parents, Jessye, Dragons). It has been a remarkable few weeks and I could not feel more lucky to be here. Thank you!
This past weekend, we had our first excursion, visiting a high Andean community, Paru Paru. We entered the main house through an archway decorated with flower garlands. The brothers who lead the community, Mario and Celestino, shook our hands and gave us besos. Their wives threw flower petals over our heads. From the moment we entered into their home they treated us like family. Expressing their excitement to share a weekend together, they told us that we would be hosted as brothers and sisters. As we stood there in a circle, young kids ran around and in between us kicking a soccer ball. A younger adult lingered further back in the yard ruffling their hair whenever they would run into him. It was a sweet scene. Whether they were related or not they all cared for the kids and each other with much affection.
I have always been intrigued by the concept of community living and felt strangely at home. Growing up, I was part of an intergenerational Folk choir that my family and all of our family friends sang in. There was also a lot of overlap between our Family Folk Choral community (the choir) and Hineni, a Jewish spiritual group my family was a part of. This network of people has been central to my life and has shaped my value for cultivating and really cherishing my communities. Being in Paru Paru, miles from Boston and my family, I felt—in even these first few moments—that I had found a home away from home.
The weekend was full of highlights. We met one particularly rambunctious 4-year-old, Romario, with whom we played hours of tag and soccer. We learned how to make adobe bricks—and that it requires taking off ones shoes and walking around in the mud (in order to mix up the dirt, water, and hay). We dug for worms in order to fish in the pond and had the best friend trout (“trucha”) I have ever tasted in my life. We played a soccer game against Romario, Celestino, and a bunch of the other members of the community who hosted us. Mario and Celestino prepared a traditional dish for us, pachamanca, a feast of roasted potatoes, Cuy (which we learned to kill and skin ourselves), trucha, chicken, beef, herbs, pineapple, and plantains.
Walking away from this experience, I am left with a deep appreciation for communities like Paru Paru, which are so centered around community and family. I feel gratitude for the warmth Mario, Celestino, their families, and all the other members of the community showed us and feel blessed to have had the opportunity to share their vibrant, loving community.
This previous week we went to the community of Paru-Paru in Pisac, Peru. Though there are so many things I learned from my experience there, my biggest take would be that your perspective changes everything.
On our last day of Paru-Paru we had an optional hike to go on where we would pass by 3 lakes and get a gorgeous view of the mountains. The hike began quite peacefully, we were walking around a large mountain to cross a lake and truly begin our ascent. Throughout this we were led by our host Mario and another guide Inocensio. Saying that the views were breathtaking does not do the experience justice. It was like a different world. No one else was around, just us and the mountains.
Though there’s one thing you all should know before I proceed, Paru-Paru is about 3,100 ft (930 Km) difference in elevation from Urubamba. And the hike for the first two hours was all uphill. Once we really began, I started having a lot of trouble breathing in the altitude. I think I took maybe one break to breathe before I had to take another and just sit down. I remember saying to our instructor Juan Diego, “Juan D I really don’t know if I can do this”. I felt horrible. I didn’t want to disappoint the group because everyone was so excited to hike and if I wasn’t able to continue then we would have all had to go back home. It was an internal battle between my mind and body. After a good five minutes, some water, and a few quick tears I decided to continue. Juan D, Mario, and Inocencio agreed to help carry my backpack so that I could focus my energy on just walking and breathing.
I should also mention that I am a notorious over packer. Because once I wasn’t carrying my backpack anymore, I felt like I could breathe and move again. It was both a little hilarious and humiliating. I felt so incredibly bad that someone else was carrying my backpack for me and that I wasn’t able to do it on my own.
It’s ironic, Dragon’s focus is on group effort, communication, and support and yet in my head I still felt like I had to be strong and do it by myself.
There were many MANY pep talks to myself throughout the rest of the day. From cliches of “slow and steady wins the race”, to “c’mon Abbs one step at a time”, “just 15 more feet, you got this”. In my head I had no other choice. I needed to continue. I stopped caring about keeping pace with everyone else and just focused on breathing. Though I no longer had my back pack I still had a difficult time breathing without getting dizzy or nauseous. As a girl born and raised at sea level 13,000 ft was something a little out of my comfort zone.
By the end I was sweaty, exhausted and most definitely needed a shower. But I was so happy. I was finished. It wasn’t a normal sense of accomplishment. It was something larger. More growth in my perspective and mindset. It wasn’t until two days later on the phone with my dad that I had realized how big of a step this was for me.
I was talking to him because I was a little worried about catching up on homework and figuring out how to manage my time amongst all the activities. And something he said made a realization in my brain click.
Dad: I’m not saying this to be funny, but what time is it where you are? What day is it?
Me: 11:00 am, October 2nd
D: Good. Where are you right now?
M: I’m sitting outside
D: Okay, where are your feet?
M: In my shoes on the concrete
D: Your feet are right here right now, they’re in today. Focus on today. Tomorrow will be tomorrow. But you can’t control tomorrow. Right now, focus on the next second, minute, hour. Whatever you need to, to take it one step at a time.
The hike meant more to me than a challenging workout. Every hour was one foot in front of the other. Focusing on my breathing and just my next step. Nothing bigger. It was difficult, but I did it. It showed me how much the work I have been putting in towards my mindset and perspective has paid off. I didn’t realize how much this program has really changed my mindset before that moment. I mean it’s by no means perfect, but it was progress. I was encouraging myself like how I would try to encourage someone else. The reflecting and journaling of new perspectives has allowed me space to grow as an individual.
Though it may not hold as much meaning to others, this mental growth was a sign I’ve been looking for. That I am on the right path. It made me incredibly grateful for this opportunity and privilege that I’ve been able to have. I can’t wait to see what adventures and challenges the next months hold. Thanks for reading.
Last Wednesday, with a goal of learning more about our new community of Urubamba and its culture, 5 of us set off to a pottery class about 10 minutes away in Yucay on the public bus. Our teacher Marisabel picked us up from the main square and we immediately started chatting about everything from art to the beautiful view of the mountains from the bus stop. It was so fun to be able to practice our Spanish while also just being able to learn how to listen to the story of Marisabel. She has been doing art for longer than she can remember, always intersecting her love for ceramics, with her academics in anthropology and her passion for teaching- saying her favorite students were always the young ones who just loved to play with the colors.
When we arrived at her studio we immediately could feel how much she loved teaching. She was so prepared with all these activities, letting some of us paint pre-made llama and bull sculptures while Ana and I tried our hands on the large pottery kick wheel. While we had previous experience doing ceramics, most of our knowledge flew out the window when it came to this kick wheel. Marisabel taught us that this wheel required a lot of focus and care because it moved much slower than any electric wheel but still had the requisites to make a perfect dish.
Between the struggles of trying to make pottery, we got to slowly learn more and more about our instructor and her life filled with art, colors and love. Her studio is attached to her house which shares the same property as her nephew and his wife. Hew nephew even came down and we had the privilege to chat with him and even get a bit of help on the wheel. Then while Tammy, Shelley and Janessa were painting ceramics they learned more about Marisabel’s past and how she got to Urubamba. She was originally born in Lima, always proud of being Peruvian through and through but says she is happy that she got to settle in a small town because the city of Lima was too chaotic for her lifestyle. Before she ended up settling in Yucay, she went to Italy to connect with her Italian heritage and learn more about all the subjects she cared about. She spent many years crafting and implementing history and anthropology in her life and said to her they have become interchangeable.
While we learned about this, Ana and I took inspiration as we built and carved our newly made dishes. Using Marisabel’s love for nature as inspiration, I centered my dish on mother earth or what they call it in Peru- Pacha Mama. I tried to capture the spirit of nature through the sun,moon, trees and even a depiction of what Marisabel said was the original Apu, the mountains surrounding the glacier Chicong. Ana, too, carved natural elements into her terracotta pot and everyone who did painting used memories of adventures in Urubamba as inspiration for their llama, bird and cups.
In the end, we all left Marisabel’s studio all smiles and feeling 10 times more artistic then when we came in. Marisabel taught us that ceramics come with stress but you can turn that stress into passion and fun and that there are no rules to one’s imagination. While we learned a lot about Marisabel, we honestly spent a lot of the time just telling our instructor about our lives because she cared so much about all of our personal stories. It felt so good having someone who not only cared about her craft but also cared so much about those who she taught. We have big plans to go back to Marisabel’s studio and bring our whole group so they can experience the fun experience of ceramics with Marisabel.
We had the pleasure of cooking with a local cooking instructor from Urubamba. We first went to the local market to retrieve some goods needed for the meal we were going to cook, and local fruits/snacks that are commonplace here in Urubamba. The market was relatively busy with vendors and sellers speaking conversely in Spanish and Quechua. Animals such as chickens and turkeys were present among goods from the interior tropical rain forests of Peru. Products such as grapes and fish from the coastal region of Peru were present as well, complementing the varied geography of Peru. We took a local tuk-tuk back to the restaurant, squeezing into a tiny compartment more fitting for two. While slightly uncomfortable, it reminded us of some core values of the region, sharing and inclusion.
Cooking is a global love, bringing people together over savory and sweet items alike. Kevin and I had the pleasure of being instructed by Andrea, and the kitchen staff of Mashua Resturante in Urubamba, Peru. Andrea is a lovely person from the Sacred Valley with over fifteen years of professional experience. While she is an amazing chef who teaches classes, especially of different types of delicious bread/pastries, her favorite part of her job is teaching. Through her guidance, she passes on knowledge and makes other people happy, and with us, that is exactly what she did. With her we were able to practice our knife skills by preparing food, dodge flames as high as the ceiling while making a traditional Peruvian dish of Lomo Saltado, and trying so much food until we were both full. In two and a half hours, we were taken on a gastronomy adventure.
We also had the pleasure of eating the local fruits and snacks that we brought from the market. We ate regional fruits that are a rare or even impossible find in the United States and Europe. A basket of raw sugar cane graced our table along with a plate of fruits such as aguaymanto, granadilla, and lima citrus. The sugar cane, when gnawed upon, presented a hint of sugary flavor, not overpowering or overtly present. Chewing on it like conejos (rabbits) the sugar cane has the perfect balance of sweetness and herbal notes, reminding me of a sweet celery. The lima citrus presented a hint of sour flavor, but was often lacking any overtly strong flavor profile.
Andrea shared her love of cuisine with us, and while Kevin and I love food in our own ways, we left with a new understanding of what cooking is all about. It is the love shared over cutting boards and hot stoves, until you are able to talk over a perfectly cooked meal. If you ever find yourself in the Sacred Valley, Andrea and the Mashua staff would be happy to have you. You will leave with a full stomach and a smile on your face, there is no place like it.
