November 11, 2008
Hola, friends. John and my settling into Peru continues. As I write, John is in the jungle somewhere is Peru, about a four-hour boat ride from the city of Pucallpa. He left on Oct. 27 with a British guide and another tourist to spend two weeks with a shaman in his small village. John has called twice from a pay phone to report that the experience has been rich and supportive.
Before John left, we purchased our first appliance. For 6 soles, about $2 US dollars, we now have a washing machine. It’s a man-powered contraption. Some people would call it a large bucket. I put in water, a little detergent and clothes and then get to rubbing, soaking, rinsing and wringing. The woman from whom we made the purchase told us the bucket also doubles as a seat. She gave us a small cardboard wedge to use to keep the lid from becoming stuck when using it as a seat. As shown in this woman, we are finding the people here to be open and helpful. Here I am showing off our new appliance.
Here John is on the porch testing out the chair option. He reported that the seat’s lacking a back had limitations, but the wall sufficed just fine.
I must sound weird, but I enjoy washing clothes by hand, rubbing out spots, wringing and hanging the garments on the clotheslines John rigged upstairs. (John adds a squishing grapes cycle in which he puts clothes in the bottom of the shower and treads on them while showering.) I also like being aware of the water I use and finding ways to reuse it, for example, by washing a new load in rinse water or using soapy water to mop floors. In two days the clothes are dry and I believe, accurately or not, cleaner than when I used an electric machine. More than anything, I’m enjoying the slower pace in Taray that allows the time and patience to wash clothes by hand.
We’ve also noticed a few other conveniences. At our apartment complex in Tampa guests checked in at a security post. Here Oro acts as our security system. He is a black and gold dog with an intimidating bark but a good disposition. I like that he doesn’t leave his property or even approach the dirt road that runs past the property. Yet he is fierce in protecting the houses. John made friends with Oro our first afternoon in the old-fashioned way by sharing food with him. After a day in town we returned home at nighttime. With our headlamps piercing the blackness of nightfall, we approached the property to Oro’s persistent bark. I watched fear rise in my chest and wondered if I could relax before Oro reached us. Surely he would sense my fear. Near the houses, he did approach us. Recognizing John’s voice, he stopped his barking, lowered his head and wagged his tail. We were in. We still feed Oro bread or peanuts when we arrive after dark to say thanks for his good work.
We also now have Peruvian cell phones. While we can no longer surf the net, Google maps, check email or have 6 GB of music and video at our fingertips, we can call or text anywhere in Peru and have a reasonable expectation of reaching the person. This for $30 and no monthly charge, only a 15 cents per minute fee. The phones also have a terrific flashlight.
Another convenience we have is not having to set an alarm clock. If the light from skylight doesn’t wake us by 6:00 a.m., the rooster who lives on the adjacent property certainly does. He goes off around 4:30 a.m. with the first hint of daybreak. By crowing about every 20 minutes he also saves us the effort of hitting the snooze button. By 6 a.m. his cockle doodling has penetrated our REM sleep sufficiently enough that we surrender any notions of further rest.
This morning during a bout of insomnia, I assuaged my mental alertness (and coped with the darkness and chilly temperatures) by journaling with candlelight and warm tea. Finally at 4:15 a.m., I noticed daybreak as the sky above the high mountains emitted its soft light. And in twenty minutes morning was here; the rooster crowed and birds whistled. It occurred to me then that the rooster was on to something. What a rich of part of the day I’d been missing!
This morning is special in another way. John is to return from his two-week trip in the jungle. I anticipate that we’ll have stories to share with each other and you about the inner journeys we experienced during our time separated in Peru.
Wishing you peace and love,
Jordan
