So far, this entire experience has been very grounding and eye-opening for me. I have had this incredible opportunity to see so many countries, meet people, and learn about all of their cultures. Yet, even though I am physically seeing and experiencing everything, I still find it very surreal.
I think that before I came on this trip I had a sense of how lucky I was to have such an opportunity, but I think months of being exposed to new things has increased that feeling exponentially.
Even in comparison to the 14 other Americans in my group I consider myself very fortunate. Many of them would not be able to be in this exchange program if it weren't for scholarships. I know how fortunate I am that my family can afford to let me have this experience.
On a much larger scale - I cannot count the number of people I've met who have never traveled outside of their country , or even within their own country. My 28 year old housebrother in Lima has never even seen Machu Picchu. In 28 years he's never been able to go. I got to go my first week in Peru. That's definitely a contrast that makes me reflect on my life. This isn't to say that my homestay family is poor. They're actually fairly well off - they live in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Lima, have cell phones, TV, a computer, electricity, and hot water. Now, imagine the lives of some of the poorest people in Peru. It's a very hard thing to do because I and everyone reading this blog have never had to live like that.
This past week, while traveling through the Sacred Valley, I was confronted by some very serious poverty. We passed many shanty towns and homes made from materials that wouldn't withstand an intense thunderstorm or a tiny earthquake. In Pisaq, we met a group of children who were dirty from playing outside. The had huge smiles on their faces and they were fascinated by one of my friend's digital cameras. Fascinated - because most of them will never get to have one.
I was shopping around the market and started talking to a little girl (maybe 3 years old) while her mother talked to another American tourist about the alpaca blankets she sold. The tourist was a woman in her late 50s. The little girl's mother gave the tourist a reasonable price for a blanket - 60 soles (which is less than US$20). I watched as this tourist gasped at the price and claimed that she would only pay 30 soles (less than US$10). The mother came back with an offer of 50 soles and the tourist said 30 soles again. This continued until the mother had only 2 options - let the woman walk away and buy a blanket from one of the other vendors or sell it for 30 soles and have money to feed her daughter. She chose the latter. The tourist got her handwoven alpaca blanket for less than US$10 instead of US$20 and walked away with a clearly expressed satisfaction. She saved US$10. The mother lost 30 soles - an amount which easily could have fed her daughter for 2 weeks.
My friend Jessi and I talked about this on the bus and she started to cry. Later, I was looking out the window at those children, listening to my IPOD, and I remembered a comment I had made earlier in the week. All the students in the program were talking about their new homestays and I had told them that my bed was hard and uncomfortable. The guilt that I felt when I remembered that, and looked out at these kids who might only have a dirt floor to sleep on, was immense. Tears started streaming down my cheeks as a I realized I was no better than the bargaining tourist from the market.
It's so easy to take the good things in our life for granted. I'm learning more about that every day I spend here. I hope I've gained a mindset of appreciation that will stay with me even after I return to the United States. I am so grateful for the life I have - thank you to everyone who's a part of it and made it what it is.
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