A Day in the Life of Yolanda

The second weekend I was in Peru I stayed with a host family in a tiny village in the Andes mountains. Our assignment for this weekend was to write a story to describe day to day life for the people of living in this village. I have decided to share with you all the story my group wrote after our stay in Humacchuco. I hope that it will give you a good idea of this village and the wonderful people there. Hope you enjoy it!

Alli Unak. This is good morning in my native language, Quechua. My name is Yolanda. It is 5 A.M. and I am just getting out from under my warm, alpaca blankets to meet the crisp mountain air that fills my lungs with breath each morning. The sun has not yet risen but I have already draped my poncho over my shoulders and begun cleaning the house in preparation for the day.

 

This is Yolanda and her daughter with 5 of the 6 of us that stayed in this little house next door to her house.

In my kitchen is a red brick wood burning stove. My younger sister, Asustana, collects small branches and logs to fire the stove. I use a long black pipe to coax the hot coals to flame. This morning, like most, I will prepare “punki” for my daughter Roxana before she goes to school. To make the punki I will use a cacerola to toast dried wheat that I gathered from our farm. Often used for toasting grains, a cacerola is a traditional pot made of clay and shaped like a gourd with a large hole cut into the side. Once the wheat is toasted I will ground it into flour and mix it with boiling water, sugar, and cinnamon to create a pudding like substance. The punki will warm and sustain Roxana throughout the school day until she returns home around 1 P.M.

 

As I head out to work on our family farm the sun is rising over the snowcapped mountains and bringing light to our little valley. Today it is my family’s turn to use the water from the streams which trace down from the glaciers.

 I will direct the water to flow into the small carved ditches that lead to our crops of quinoa, potatoes, wheat, oca, olluco, and Corn. My father also grows flowers which we sell to markets in Lima, but we are able to water them with sprinklers now that we have portable water.

 

Notice the sprinkler to the right of the picture

Around 10:30 A.M. I leave my crops which are carved into the side of the mountain to help my mother prepare lunch for the family. I am a single mom and live with my father, mother, two younger sisters, and my daughter. Today we will prepare spicy potatoes, soup, and chicha morada which is a drink made by boiling purple corn and sweetened with sugar. We drink chicha morada most days. Today is a special day. My father killed a pig and we will have pork to eat. We have meat no more than once a week when we have enough money to buy it at the market.

 

My mother, father and I will eat lunch around noon and return to our work on the farm. On the hillside beside mine my father Victor, who is president of our town Humacchuco, traces each row of potatoes, spraying pesticides to ensure the growth of our crops that sustain our way of life. My mother and I work together to harvest quinoa. We have already gathered long stalks of the rich red quinoa and are working to extract the grain. Our hands are stained pink as we scrape the stalks against rock. The tiny grains fall into a pile to dry and are sifted by the wind. The stains and the pink and yellow pile of grain are beautiful to me. They are a visual of the hard work I do every day to help provide for my family. I can now see my Roxana, who has returned from school, playing with her little pigs. As she feeds the pigs scraps of oca I think of how the time passes so quickly and whenever she talks of Lima, I wonder if she will stay. I have chosen this way of life. It is a generational lifestyle, and although my sisters and brother have moved to the city, I carry it on and wonder if Roxana will do the same.

 

When the sun sets behind the mountains and we can no longer see to work, we will have a small dinner of bread and leftovers from lunch. I will make concha (toasted, salted corn kernels) and hot mate de coca (tea) for my family to share as we share laughs, the events of the day, and discuss plans for tomorrow. Tomorrow will be much like today. Though simple, my life is full of hard work enriched by family and the beauty of the landscape that surrounds us. I kiss Roxana; I am grateful for our life. Alli Paqas, goodnight.

Story written by Rachel Bochy, Katya Chavez de los Santos, and Lauren Manuel
15 June 2013

 

 

Here are a few pictures that I thought everyone might like to see...

Our neighbor..she was so cute!

 

Yolanda's older sister making concha which is basically inside out popcorn. It is delicious.

 

 

 

Fried dough for breakfast!

 

Assisting Yolanda with her daily quinoa rolling. This was an awesome experience and one that I will never forget.

 

The women carry their babies on their backs all day even as they work bent over in the field.

 

 Learning to debone river trout to make rolled trout.

The finished product....though I felt strange eating this guy as he watched, it was delicious!

 

 

We hiked to the top of the mountain behind our house...this is the view of our house and Yolanda's house from above. This picture is very deceiving. It looks like the fields are flat but they are not at all. They are carved into the mountain at quite an angle.

 

Little piggy!

 

  

The family's cuy (guinea pigs). The kids raise them and then they cook and eat them on special occasions such as birthdays. Yolanda's family had 20 or more cuy.

 

 

The time I spent in Humacchuco with Yolanda's family will forever hold a special place in my heart. The people of the small village work extremely hard every day to provide food for their families. They look out for one another and though many have been exposed to life outside of this village they choose to stay in their beautiful valley with no internet, cell phones, heating or air conditioning, indoor plumbing, television, traffic, access to medical care, etc. I am so thankful to have had this experience and I am grateful for the kindness and hospitality extended by the people of Humacchuco.