Chaclacayo

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  Chaclacayo, Peru
Monday, January 12, 2009

Call me soft if you may.  My heart breaks easily.  When I walked Jose up the stairs, one by one, I couldn't help but want to reach out and heal him.  The doctor told him to go find his crutch with a slightly stern tone.  He needs to accept the fact that he will not walk without its assistance at an early age.  
 
My last task before leaving the Villa Paz Foundation was obtaining some information and phone numbers from Dr. Lazzara.  Beat up leather couches create a border around the downstairs living space of the facility.  I was waiting for the Doc to bring the needed contacts when Jose asked for help climbing the stairs to find his crutch.  His hands work perfectly, I grabbed both of them with my own and we started up the wooden steps.  For him this simple task is a daily reminder that he is different.  One by one using his arms to pull his way up...slowly but surely we ascended.  My current travels remind me that I am well off all the time.  Jose is lucky; he has a fantastic support system behind him.  He comes from a poor family, born into Peruvian poverty.  Doctor Tony Lazzara has more than 50 young children who carry an awful burden of life long birth defects and abnormal circumstance.  The kids at the foundation receive the medical attention they need everyday without inhuman cost to their families.  This is a place I was hoping to lend a hand to for a month.
 
I woke up Friday with one goal in mind.  Spend the day in Chaclacayo.  I spoke to the Doctor Lazzara two weeks prior, and the day before about visiting to change my tentative arrival date to a secure one.  I was told that anytime after ten would be a great time to stop by and see the foundation.  I got directions of various risk levels from my host family here in Lima.  After going to the grocery store and getting some cash, I followed none of the given directions.  A few inquiries to street vendors later and I made my way to a corner to catch a bus headed out to Chaclacayo via Chosica. 
 
I arrived at the Villa Paz Foundation much later than planned, but just in time for lunch.  As I walked into the hustle and bustle of the dining room I was greeted by 51 smiling young faces.  After a bombardment of requests for my name, I was more or less formally introduced to about 15 of the kids.  All of the volunteers were cleaning up place settings one by one as the young people finished their plates.  This was my first time since arriving in South America that I have been in the presence of five other faces from the US.  They were all girls, university students, and beautiful. 
 
The Doctor introduced himself as Tony and offered me a plate.  On the menu; soup followed with fish and rice and for dessert a large chunk of watermelon.  The kids are well fed here.  After lunch I found Tony in his office.  Conversation was quick, he is a busy man.  I told him that I was there to emphasize my interest in volunteering for him, and hopefully looking to set a date to start.  More than two weeks ago we talked about my arriving near the end of January.  My aspirations were to bump this date sooner.  His response was that he would need to check his volunteer calendar and see what was coming up.  Looking up from his computer insisted that I spend the day with the kids, go to the park and library and assist the volunteers.  This sounded like an excellent plan to me, agreeing with a smile.  He concluded that he would have an answer for me when he takes his daily coffee break with the students.    
 
The older kids needed to do their afternoon chore of cleaning house after lunch before we could leave for our destinations.  I took a seat outside with the volunteers; Katie, Cassie and Jill were finally getting to enjoy their lunch.  Soon I was covered in young people.  Questions came on after another with no patience between inquiries.  Where are you from?  What kind of car do you have?  What is your name?  Are you going to stay?  Do you want to color?  I don't mean to float my own boat, but I can color with the best of em´.  A 101 Dalmatians coloring book was on the table across the patio, four hands helped me out of my chair to a bench.  Cruela Deville never looked better in ROYGBIV.  It is always fun to encourage youth.  As they looked upon their scribbles with sad faces and compared my neat page to theirs, I questioned their ages.  After answering they immediately requested my age.  "That means I have had about 20 more years of practice than you guys.  Plus your color choice is perfect.  Keep it up, practice never hurts and always makes you better."  Scribbles of red, sea weed green and blue covered the pages in front of us when we were done. 
 
As we got ready for the park I was enlisted to push Janina and Bryan sitting side by side in a wheel chair.  Janina walks using one foot and a crutch with amazing swiftness.  When we arrived at the park she and others decided they wanted to do a lap on the path that encompasses all of the flower beds and playground toys.  Using her sole limb and the wheelchair as a stabilizer Janina pushed Brian for the rest of the afternoon.  After the ¼ mile lap, she took him to the library and back.  Her energy and courage are contagious. 
 
We soon found ourselves at the local library.  The librarian is also the owner and has a smile as big as her heart.  Kid's books fill the shelves of the building.  Most of our 26 little companions sat around her as she dramatically read a tale of a young Incan girl.  Just outside the doors is a large well manicured lawn where some of the other kids played hide and seek.  After finding me behind a tree one of the boys asked for a piggy back ride, seeing that he could be the tallest person around atop my shoulders.  I spent the next half an hour trading piggy back rides and dizzying spins for ear to ear smiles.  Grabbing the youngsters by their hands and spinning fast enough for their feet to lift off the ground got to be way to popular.  It took all of my physical power and various breaks to halt sure nausea.
 
On the way home I met Jose.  He wanted to walk the three blocks rather than catch a ride on one of the various wheelchairs.  I admire his heart so much.  When the other kids were still in sight he pushed himself as if trying to break the reality that his legs and feet restricted him in.  Step by step we made our way back to the foundation.  I don't have the responsibility of caring for his young soul.  However, the afternoon and the walk home with Jose made me desire the opportunity to volunteer for Tony fervently.  My temporary existence, a month, maybe two, would not necessarily change Jose's life.  But, I know that it would leave an imprint on my heart and possibly allow me to impact the kids with encouragement.  
 
At coffee with the volunteer girls and Doctor Lazzara I was told there wasn't any room at the facility.  Possibly in a couple of months there would be openings.  I am going to be in Chile at that time.  His words made me think.  There is no room.  In other words, I have more than enough help.  Although these words were disappointing, they held an encouraging value to them.  Help is needed here in Peru.  There is no doubt in this fact.  I know that I am somewhat of a valuable resource.  I want to be stretched nearly to the point of breaking.  Tony has a beautiful facility and children.  With more than a sufficient number of volunteers I may have felt unused at times.
 
Today I decided my time in Lima's neighborhood will be shorter than I had expected.  Ica is a city to the south that has been wrecked by earthquakes.  I will soon find myself there, with working gloves and an open heart.

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