"You will always be a millionaire to them."
My host brother and I got into a discussion about international politics. We were talking about the Peruvian people's lack of international concern. It came hot on the heels of the attacks in Paris, Beirut, Baghdad. I told him that despite there being so much bad in the world there is hope. The same hope inspired me to pack up and move to Peru to do some good in this world. To join the people! My host brother told me "You will always be a millionaire to them."
It was with that idea I went in to our first YAV retreat here in Moyobamba. I was beyond excited to show my site coordinator Jenny, her husband Jed, and fellow volunteer Shaina the life I'd built for myself here. In the middle of the week the four of us took a trip to beautiful Tingana, an idyllic Amazonian lodge about an hour from Moyo.
Imagine deep jungle canopy overhead while rafting up a thin river tributary to arrive at a intimate resort complete with bungalows, mess hall, and hammock-filled common hall for us to ponder our deep spiritual insights.
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| My new best friend and mentor: Don Juan de la Selva! |
In between fishing for dinner on the river and laying in hammocks we spent our time identifying some of our successes and some of our failures. From Day One the difference between my experience and Shaina's became apparent.
left: Shaina and Jenny right: Jed dozing
First, let me be honest and admit that I have the inherently masculine tendency to seek solutions to any problem that presents itself to me. Can't open the pickle jar? Run it under some warm water. Can't find a mototaxi? Change streets. Having trouble with the food you eat? Buy your own food, prepare it.
When I'm presented with other people's problems I attempt to help solve them and I feel discontent when any solution is dismissed or taken lightly. In other words, I don't understand complaining to complain. I mean I understand venting. I do it all the time. But when my older sister is noting all the negative feelings she has about little things that she can control I get mad when she doesn't change anything.
When I'm presented with other people's problems I attempt to help solve them and I feel discontent when any solution is dismissed or taken lightly. In other words, I don't understand complaining to complain. I mean I understand venting. I do it all the time. But when my older sister is noting all the negative feelings she has about little things that she can control I get mad when she doesn't change anything.
Our retreat made clear to me the paradigms both Shaina and Myself live in. We are, by all standards, two worlds apart.
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| Doing some reflecting at Tingana |
We were taught at orientation at Stony Point that we carry privilege with us. We don't often recognize how far it goes. There's privilege to being American, white, male, middle class, christian, tall, strong, college-educated, well-traveled, and creative. I knew that. I knew that going into my YAV year I was going to see new ways others see my privilege. We were taught that we didn't get to choose most of the privilege we carry with us, but we can choose to use that privilege to benefit others.
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| Shaina's fishing for dinner. She was unsuccessful. |
What I didn't imagine was the privilege I'd find just by living in a different world. The advantages of living in Moyobamba versus living in Lima define what I call 'site-centered privilege.' Of which there are many (Shaina has outlined fairly clearly the differences of living in Moyobamba versus living in Lima, especially Comas.) Make no mistake there are things that Lima has that Moyobamba doesn't. That doesn't mean one site is better than the other.
Moyobamba has nature all around it, and thus easy activities to pursue within my budget. In Moyobamba you can hike up a mountain, take a boat ride, and wander the streets at night. In a small city like Moyobamba everyone knows everyone, thus increasing my odds of seeing my friends and making new ones. The network expands. There's even a few ex-pats who set up shop here in Moybamba and who aren't going back to their homeland anytime soon.
In Lima beer is cheaper.
I don't think it's fair to compare Moyobamba to Lima. That'd be like comparing Kauaii, Hawaii to Memphis, Tennessee. They're completely different and if you waste time thinking about it you can convince yourself one is more valuable than the other. While my frustration still mounts from the numerous times Shaina and I traded experiences I have come to an important realization: this is how we process. This is the reflecting we came to do on our retreat.
We can compare and contrast Lima and Moyobamba all we want but we still have the same core problem. The privileges we were born with.
Shaina and I both encounter different forms of it but we both recognize that people here are quicker to offer respect, invite you into their homes, have you stand by them, and ask for your help. They're quicker because we're White, Middle Class, Americans. This sentiment that a lighter skin color benefits us heralds from the oppression the conquistadors laid over the native Peruvians here. This privilege has existed since the 1500's. To them, we are millionaires. While people marvel and awe and hope that Shaina or I can make them cooler by association we just want to help people. We want to belong. We crave authentic relationships.
Now I've learned authentic relationships are more possible here in Moyobamba. Part of that is due to the legacy of foreigners living in the neighborhood. Another part of that is the size of the town. After awhile everyone knows who you are and the novelty of being foreign wears off.
Despite living in two different worlds Shaina and I still have the same problem.
I was called to Peru. I was given my site placement. I managed to thrive in my cozy little home here. I have overcome those hard moments of homesickness. I unearthed my effectiveness at work.
This blog post should perhaps ruminate more on some of the deeper spiritual problems I've encountered, but what I learned the most from our retreat was just how much I have to be thankful for. Without sounding bigoted I'm thankful for the privilege I was born with. It has served as a powerful tool for Paz y Esperanza and YAV. I'm also incredibly grateful for the site-privilege I took for granted previously.
I am exactly where I need to be at exactly the right time in my life. God put me here.
I don't think it's fair to compare Moyobamba to Lima. That'd be like comparing Kauaii, Hawaii to Memphis, Tennessee. They're completely different and if you waste time thinking about it you can convince yourself one is more valuable than the other. While my frustration still mounts from the numerous times Shaina and I traded experiences I have come to an important realization: this is how we process. This is the reflecting we came to do on our retreat.
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| Shaina's eating a furry caterpillar. |
Shaina and I both encounter different forms of it but we both recognize that people here are quicker to offer respect, invite you into their homes, have you stand by them, and ask for your help. They're quicker because we're White, Middle Class, Americans. This sentiment that a lighter skin color benefits us heralds from the oppression the conquistadors laid over the native Peruvians here. This privilege has existed since the 1500's. To them, we are millionaires. While people marvel and awe and hope that Shaina or I can make them cooler by association we just want to help people. We want to belong. We crave authentic relationships.
Now I've learned authentic relationships are more possible here in Moyobamba. Part of that is due to the legacy of foreigners living in the neighborhood. Another part of that is the size of the town. After awhile everyone knows who you are and the novelty of being foreign wears off.
Despite living in two different worlds Shaina and I still have the same problem.
I was called to Peru. I was given my site placement. I managed to thrive in my cozy little home here. I have overcome those hard moments of homesickness. I unearthed my effectiveness at work.
This blog post should perhaps ruminate more on some of the deeper spiritual problems I've encountered, but what I learned the most from our retreat was just how much I have to be thankful for. Without sounding bigoted I'm thankful for the privilege I was born with. It has served as a powerful tool for Paz y Esperanza and YAV. I'm also incredibly grateful for the site-privilege I took for granted previously.
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| Don Juan showing us his beautiful chacra. |
I'm thankful for my friends, family, home church. I'm thankful for Jenny and Jed and Shaina for being my YAV family and for being there for me during my stay in Peru. I'm thankful for the YAV office. I'm thankful for good health. I'm thankful for feeling at home in a foreign land. I'm thankful for Paz y Esperanza for having me on their team. I'm thankful to my older sister who encouraged me to be a YAV. I'm thankful to Zoe Filutowski who gave me the best advice ever: "All you can do now is pray about it." I'm thankful, most of all, to God for his gentle nudging.
The paradigm I live in may seem like paradise when compared to another but there is darkness here all the same, and I am thankful that I can use what privilege I have to help bring light to the dark corners.
Happy Thanksgiving, from my YAV family to yours!
The paradigm I live in may seem like paradise when compared to another but there is darkness here all the same, and I am thankful that I can use what privilege I have to help bring light to the dark corners.
Happy Thanksgiving, from my YAV family to yours!
*Not his actual name.
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