The Town

We live adjacent to the small town of Campo Verde, which, despite it's size is fully equipped with the essentials of a town or city. The following guidelines are derived from my travels, in which I have noted many of the towns or cities contain these elements.

1) A town square, or plaza. Every town of countenance must contain this, whether it is the magnificent "Plaza de Armas" of Cuzco, or the decrepit soccerfield in the disheveled town of Tinqui. These are ideal places to go and soak up some sun in the companionship of complete strangers. Sitting on a bench in town and chatting is a national pastime, in which I have partaken enthusiastically.

2) All towns must contain a Market, or "Mercado". Once inside, you are assailed by every imaginable sight, smell, and sound. A typical series of events are as follows. Bending my head, I step into the vast field of experiences awaiting me in the market. Pushing my way through the crowds, I am momentarily distracted by the sight of guinea pigs roasting on the spit, and then nearly run into the man selling boiled pigeon eggs. Ever thoughtful of the danger of pick-pockets, I glance behind me just in time to see a woman hacking ferociously at a pig carcass, each successive swipe is just a fraction from her unflinching hand. Distracted, I don't notice the little girl directly in my path who is attempting to sell me some gum. "No, gracias" I intone, but am drowned out by the insane hysterical laughter of a man who is wearing nothing but a tattered pair of shorts, who has doubtless succumbed to insanity, or imbibed in way to much alcohol. A lady who manages a fruit juice stand spots me, and decides I must be an ideal customer. "Joven!", she shouts, "Ven por aqui!", I wag my finger at her in typical peruvian style and continue on my way. I stop to heckle with a lady managing a fruit stand. Eyeing a big bunch of banannas, I querie, " Señora, Quantos para estos?" "Estos son 4 soles, Joven". I eventually walk away, banannas in hand, and 3 soles in the hands of fruit lady. We are both content. I continue on, repulsed, shocked, and enchanted, just part of the seething mass of humanity.

3) Every town has a cathedral, basillica, or church. Because of a strong Catholic presence, most of these churches hail to mary, but the evangelical and adventist congregations are growing rapidly. In many towns, the church is the most beautiful building, their architecture ranges from ancient gothic to modern simplicity, but in general, these buildings are quite extraordinary.

4) The Menú is a classic icon of a peruvian town. Among the most common dishes are "Tallerin Saltado", "Arroz Chaufa", "Lomo Saltado", and "Tortilla Verde". Most menús cost between 3-4 soles, or about a dollar. The word Menú can mean both the place you are eating in, and the food on your plate. A good Menú has a hot soup, a big plate of food, and a cold drink, called respectively, "Sopa", "Segundo", and "Refresco".

5) Most Peruvian towns have a bus station, as the bus is the primary mode of long-distance travel here. Bussing costs approxamently a dollar an hour, so a 20 hour bus ride will cost about 20 dollars, or roughly 60 soles. The bus station is typically chaotic and stressful. Chaotic because each destination is represented by a ticket counter, at each of which the attendant screams out the destination at top speed and volume. "Limalimalimalimalimaaaa!" shouts one in a nasal voice, "Arequipaarequipaquipaquipaqupa!" is intoned in a correspondingly aggrevating manner. Bus stations are stressful because of the necessarily constant vigilance against theives and pickpockets.

All this has the Peruvian town, in addition to many other and smaller threads, which also seem to make up the amazing fabric of life in Peru.

Fire

This past week we have burned large swaths of land in an attempt to stem the rapid and continual growth of all plants and vegetation around us. Because of the unusually dry conditions, the fires we start are usually fast, powerful, and downright scary. One day in particular, the Doctor started about 6 separate fires, which we spent the rest of the day attempting to control and put out.

I was allotted to help Ever, a powerfully built Peruvian helper, control a fire which threatened to destroy a sachayenchi crop. Sachayenchi is a nut that José, our guardian, periodically harvests and laboriously extracts a few precious bottles of oil from. Although this particular crop looked fairly ill-kempt, it was our job to protect it, especially since we had lit the fires. I followed Ever (pronounced with a hard B sound) through the long grasses to the location where the fire and sachayenchi crop had nearly adjoined. Using long thin boards, we beat the flames until they were extinguished, or we were too tired to continue. Gradually, we worked our way along the perimeter of the field, not able to stop the fire, but simply directing it. Frequently, the wind would turn on us, and we would run doubled over, attempting to escape the enveloping haze of smoke. Breaking out of the haze I would glance over at Ever, tears running down my face, grin at him, and head back in for a second try.

Although our efforts were largely successful, the fire eventually grew larger, and I went on the run to summon some more help. I went to get the Doctor and Alex, while Ever remained to fight the fire. With the extra help, we were eventually able to stop the fire.

We fought those fires all day long, and were completely exhausted by the days end. After a shower, we ate a delicious supper (courtesy of Ansley), and then returned to our house to relax. The candles cast dancing shadows on our walls, and my mind, in some corresponding dance, replays the events of the day.

What, after all, is fire? I am sure a scientist could give a neatly packaged answer about how fire is the product energy of combustion, and how the light created is merely electrons jumping from "excited states" of energy shells to "ground levels" etc. etc. But these theories only provide a framework by which we can begin to understand something of the process. What is this thing called fire, which bounds the gap between my flickering candle and the roaring blaze I fought all day? It burns me, warms me, heats my food, battles me one instant, and taunts my curiosity the next.

Life, is what I call an indisposable unfathomable. Unfathomable, because I cannot, of myself understand the incongruencies of obesity and starvation, affluence and poverty, philosophical naturalism and voodoo. Fire, as a part of life, is unfathomable because I simply can't comprehend it's reality, it's being. It is also indisposable, because of it's intrinsic function in our lives. It was also created, by God, who is after all, the ultimate indisposable unfathomable.