I recently traveled to Peru with a team of 15 students. We had the honor of spending two days in the Ocutuan Community. Two days was enough for one life changing experience.
We roll in on our bus. The men, women, and children of the village are dressed in traditional clothes and come to greet us. The women holding their skirts with something tucked inside, and we exit the bus and make our processional through them. The women throw flower petals on our heads and everyone speaks kindness and welcome.
One snare drum and two flutes play festive music, and we make our way through the gathering of warm hearts and broad smiles.
We gather in a circle on the open grass and the band plays again. American youth and Peruvian elders stand in a circle, hand in hand. They welcome us with speeches of love and gratitude. One speaks and Deanna translates, and we all applaud. And another speaks and another. Welcomed with open arms.
The band plays once more and we dance. Hand in hand, paired across cultures, we step our feet back and forth and lift our arms in celebration.
And then, the work begins. We work side by side with the community members.
Working in three groups electricy, concrete, and paint, we work on the final stages of building their first community center. Students work hard. They are focused and engaged and accomplish small but mighty things.
The women cook all morning and then invite us to eat lunch with the community, served first as their guests, we "break bread" together.
After lunch we watch a weaving demonstration. All the women participating at different stages of washing, dying, spinning and weaving. At six years of age the girls start making bracelets, by ten they are making belts. Ancient years of tradition transfer to a skill, a way of life. Women can spin while walking, talking, or kissing their husbands they say. Second nature, rhythm of life in these mountains.
We work again all afternoon until a dark cloud makes an appearance and eventually takes over the sky. We get to the bus just as the sky opens up and rains down in buckets. We leave tired and satisfied.
The next morning we rise and return to the same open arms and smiling faces. New jobs are assigned, and we begin to work. Completion is near and excitement is high.
The women lay out hand woven blankets and lay out their hand made wares. Colors literally from the land and patterns designed from the region. Students talk to the women through broken Spanish and hand gestures and buy treasures.
The band plays. The little dancing girl dances, twirling and jumping and throwing her arms into the air. She lures everyone in, first Jo, then the girls, then the boys. Everyone in the community laughs and loves and dances with the little dancing girl.
A tradition is shared: a tree is chopped down from the forest and brought to the yard. Students help hold it up and tie on a plethora of plastic housewares. Without a clue of what is happening, their curiousity builds as bright pink, yellow, and green dust pans, buckets and strainers are tied throughout the tree along with ribbons, balloons, and flowers. With a mighty effort, it is pushed up and replanted into a freshly dug hole. Packed with rocks and dirt, it solidly stands.
We gather around the tree with wonder now, the tradition about to unfold, once again hand in hand, young and old, Peruvian and American. We dance to the flutes and drum in one large circle around the tree, moving left then right, community together. Tradition strong.
The first man grabs the axe and dances to the middle of the circle with Deanna. He hands the axe to her to take the first chops. He steps to the side and is given a local beverage by the women, and he drinks it down. He takes his turn with the axe and then chooses a new couple. Me. The man I danced next to and I dance to the middle and take turns chopping, he drinks his beverage and this pattern continues student after student, they choose us to share in this tradition.
The tree is getting weaker, the crowd getting more excited. Anticipation and curiosity fill the air.
Finally the tree falls. We Americans take a step back while the Peruvians dive in and around the tree. A rush unexpected and unseen in my life. They grab and hold the plasticware and retreat from the tree arms full and victorious!
The day comes towards a close as we move to the entryway for the inauguration of the new community center. All of the work is done, our students finished the final painting of the floor.
Another hand in hand circle dance, more speeches of gratitude and recognition of this great accomplishment. The community had a dream, and worked towards it for one year with many partners, hard work and us, made it a reality. With this center they can meet, teach, have classes, have community shelter.
Deanna, Jo and I are asked to do the honors. We are handed a hammer adorned with flowers, and we stand in front of a clay pot filled with flowers and chicha (beer) hanging in the doorway.
We three hold the hammer together and swing. We hit once and create a hole, the chicha pours out. Cheers of laughter, and we swing again. The pot shatters pouring the drink onto the newly painted floor. The community center is now ready and open.
Tears are shed and gratitude is given. Gifts are placed into our hands and memories into our hearts.
The community once again lines up and sends us off with with a fond farewell. Hugging and kissing us individually and wishing us well, gracias, be blessed. And we are. The whole experience beyond words but perminately embedded into our spirits.
So openly welcomed.
So gratefully accepted.
So completely embraced.
Ocutuan Community. Thank you!
We roll in on our bus. The men, women, and children of the village are dressed in traditional clothes and come to greet us. The women holding their skirts with something tucked inside, and we exit the bus and make our processional through them. The women throw flower petals on our heads and everyone speaks kindness and welcome.
One snare drum and two flutes play festive music, and we make our way through the gathering of warm hearts and broad smiles.
We gather in a circle on the open grass and the band plays again. American youth and Peruvian elders stand in a circle, hand in hand. They welcome us with speeches of love and gratitude. One speaks and Deanna translates, and we all applaud. And another speaks and another. Welcomed with open arms.
The band plays once more and we dance. Hand in hand, paired across cultures, we step our feet back and forth and lift our arms in celebration.
And then, the work begins. We work side by side with the community members.
Working in three groups electricy, concrete, and paint, we work on the final stages of building their first community center. Students work hard. They are focused and engaged and accomplish small but mighty things.
The women cook all morning and then invite us to eat lunch with the community, served first as their guests, we "break bread" together.
After lunch we watch a weaving demonstration. All the women participating at different stages of washing, dying, spinning and weaving. At six years of age the girls start making bracelets, by ten they are making belts. Ancient years of tradition transfer to a skill, a way of life. Women can spin while walking, talking, or kissing their husbands they say. Second nature, rhythm of life in these mountains.
We work again all afternoon until a dark cloud makes an appearance and eventually takes over the sky. We get to the bus just as the sky opens up and rains down in buckets. We leave tired and satisfied.
The next morning we rise and return to the same open arms and smiling faces. New jobs are assigned, and we begin to work. Completion is near and excitement is high.
The women lay out hand woven blankets and lay out their hand made wares. Colors literally from the land and patterns designed from the region. Students talk to the women through broken Spanish and hand gestures and buy treasures.
The band plays. The little dancing girl dances, twirling and jumping and throwing her arms into the air. She lures everyone in, first Jo, then the girls, then the boys. Everyone in the community laughs and loves and dances with the little dancing girl.
A tradition is shared: a tree is chopped down from the forest and brought to the yard. Students help hold it up and tie on a plethora of plastic housewares. Without a clue of what is happening, their curiousity builds as bright pink, yellow, and green dust pans, buckets and strainers are tied throughout the tree along with ribbons, balloons, and flowers. With a mighty effort, it is pushed up and replanted into a freshly dug hole. Packed with rocks and dirt, it solidly stands.
We gather around the tree with wonder now, the tradition about to unfold, once again hand in hand, young and old, Peruvian and American. We dance to the flutes and drum in one large circle around the tree, moving left then right, community together. Tradition strong.
The first man grabs the axe and dances to the middle of the circle with Deanna. He hands the axe to her to take the first chops. He steps to the side and is given a local beverage by the women, and he drinks it down. He takes his turn with the axe and then chooses a new couple. Me. The man I danced next to and I dance to the middle and take turns chopping, he drinks his beverage and this pattern continues student after student, they choose us to share in this tradition.
The tree is getting weaker, the crowd getting more excited. Anticipation and curiosity fill the air.
Finally the tree falls. We Americans take a step back while the Peruvians dive in and around the tree. A rush unexpected and unseen in my life. They grab and hold the plasticware and retreat from the tree arms full and victorious!
The day comes towards a close as we move to the entryway for the inauguration of the new community center. All of the work is done, our students finished the final painting of the floor.
Another hand in hand circle dance, more speeches of gratitude and recognition of this great accomplishment. The community had a dream, and worked towards it for one year with many partners, hard work and us, made it a reality. With this center they can meet, teach, have classes, have community shelter.
Deanna, Jo and I are asked to do the honors. We are handed a hammer adorned with flowers, and we stand in front of a clay pot filled with flowers and chicha (beer) hanging in the doorway.
We three hold the hammer together and swing. We hit once and create a hole, the chicha pours out. Cheers of laughter, and we swing again. The pot shatters pouring the drink onto the newly painted floor. The community center is now ready and open.
Tears are shed and gratitude is given. Gifts are placed into our hands and memories into our hearts.
The community once again lines up and sends us off with with a fond farewell. Hugging and kissing us individually and wishing us well, gracias, be blessed. And we are. The whole experience beyond words but perminately embedded into our spirits.
So openly welcomed.
So gratefully accepted.
So completely embraced.
Ocutuan Community. Thank you!
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