Recently, whilst flattening out a patch of desert on which to pour a concrete floor, the team of the project I’m currently working on got into a pretty heated (and sandy) discussion about PSF’s vision and mission as an organization, particularly with regard to the role of communication between PSF volunteers and the people of Pisco. 
Our mission statement includes: “PSF empowers local people and volunteers from all over the world to build a stronger Pisco.”  While the projects we undertake, like home construction, distributing free wood, and making biodiesel, currently build fabulous connections between between local people and international volunteers, some of us felt that there is an opportunity to turn up the dial on these relationships through increased use of the language that most local people speak. 
Our team asked ourselves, what concrete (teehee) actions can we implement, given (1) the relatively small amount of time that remains outside of our project work, and (2) the varied level of Spanish language experience among our volunteer base, to get us all speaking more Spanish, and thus, open up the possibility of richer direct verbal communication with local individuals to a wider number of volunteers?  Our answer to that is an initiative that excites me a great deal, which we termed Conversaciones de confianza (“CDC”).

Conversaciones de confianza aims to provide a platform for us volunteers to practice speaking Spanish in a non-intimidating, confidence-boosting environment (hence the name, which means “Conversations of Confidence” for those of you who haven’t had a chance to participate yet ).  Each morning, before volunteers sign up for projects, project leaders have the option to designate their projects “CDC”, meaning that they and those who sign up that day will commit to speaking in Spanish on site during lunch  (a meal we’re often fortunate enough to be provided with by the families on whose houses we’re working) and in the final hour or two of the days’ work.  It responds to the issue (1) of time restriction outside of projects, by including Spanish practice in the fabric of project work, and issue (2) of our unequal levels of Spanish proficiency, by treating all involved parties’ (volunteers and locals alike) combined knowledge of the language as a pooled resource from which we all can draw.

Don’t know the word for “shovel”?  Can’t remember which word is “spoon” and which is “knife”? (cuchara and cuchillo, respectively...trips me up a good deal)  There’s a good chance that one of your project mates does, or, better yet, you can ask someone from the family whose house you’re working on.  This type of seemingly-trivial “How do you say...?” question has segued into many a remarkably in-depth conversation in the short time my team has been CDC-ing.  Even though none of us on this project are fluent Spanish speakers and some had our first exposure to the language when we arrived in Peru quite recently, we’ve been able to delve into initially semi-daunting topics like local politics! and religion! and family dynamics! with Flor, the woman whose house will sit on the concrete floor we’re making. 

While this initiative is admittedly still in its nascent stages, I’ve been quite stoked on the micro level progress of my current project’s team.  An extraordinary part of PSF as an organization is the empowerment its volunteers are afforded—everyone is encouraged to step up, share ideas, and get moving on new projects they’d like to see put in place.  This empowerment is a driving force in the work we do and a fundamental element of our vision: “a Pisco with adequate housing, sanitation and education for all, in which everyone has the opportunity to shape their own future,” and is one of the reasons I am downright enthusiastic about this group!

Like the sounds of PSF’s work and want to get involved?  Come volunteer with us or contribute to realizing our vision through a donation.  Many, many thanks in advance!

Being the Change, One day, One house, One life at a Time Part I

Who is Ismael? To most people he's just another Peruvian, who's life was turned upside down, because of the earthquake. However, if you actually take the time to learn Ismael's story, you'll soon find out that, just like everyone else, his story is unique.

Ismael is an elderly man, who before the earthquake, lived in an adobe house located on Las Americas, not far from the volunteer house, but he lost that house in the earthquake. He was fortunate enough to receive a modular home from the Municipality, but was unfortunate enough to have it accidentally burned down when his cousin was doing some repairs. To make matters worse, Ismael's wife left him and took all of their belongings, leaving him with nothing, but a charred home.

Once one hits rock bottom, there's no place to go, but up. Fast forward to present day Pisco, and three self-proclaimed “angels” arrive at the doors of Pisco Sin Fronteras asking us for help on behalf of Ismael. These women say that they themselves live in poor conditions, but that this man lives in even worse conditions and that if they can help anyone, it would be him.

So we (myself, TBC and Will) asked them to show us the site and his living conditions. When we arrived all there was left standing, was an estera (crushed woven bamboo) house, surrounding a concrete slab; most of it was burnt and held together by scrap pieces of wood; wood that we would normally just throw in the fire wood box. On the same plot of land stood a wooden modular home, where Ismael's niece and eleven other family members live. We asked his niece if it would be okay to see inside the modular, so we could see for ourselves why it would not be possible for Ismael to live with them. She goes inside and returns a few minutes later to say that she would only allow one person inside, almost as if she was ashamed or embarrassed of her living conditions. I've yet to meet someone in Pisco, who was ashamed of his/her living conditions until now. I was picked to go inside and as we enter, we pretty much bypassed the wooden modular and the pathway led to a big tented area, which consists of two or three beds, a television, a seating area and dining table; behind the tented area is a backyard of sorts where there is a small kitchen and open space where the laundry gets done. I left having no idea how twelve people live and sleep in that small space; there has to be people sleeping on the floor.

At this point, we've seen how Ismael used to live, but we wanted to see where he's currently resides, and most of all we wanted to meet Ismael himself. So the “angels” took us on a fifteen minute walk to another estera house, but Ismael was nowhere to be found. They said that sometimes he spends his days begging for food, so that's probably where he was. The house that Ismael currently resides in, is being lent to him through a member or friend of the “angels'” church. However, the owner of the house is receiving a new home from Techo Proprio, so Ismael needs to move out eventually. The house itself is very basic and nowhere near ideal living conditions. It's made out of old estera, plastic and cardboard, the ceiling is low, there's only one bed and no electricity; at night all he has is a single candle. It's then that I realize that it's the little things that I take for granted, especially during the cold Pisco winter nights.

We told the women to get a hold of Ismael and bring him to the PSF HQ, so that we could officially meet him. As we walked away and made our way back to the HQ, although we had yet to meet Ismael, we had pretty much made up our minds that we would help to change this man's life. We finally have the honor of meeting Ismael later that night, and realize how sweet, soft spoken and humble of a man he truly is. The “angels” tell us that the reason he wasn't home during the day, wasn't because he was begging for food, but rather he was off looking for a job to no avail. We find out that he's lost all contact with his children and still he wants nothing, but the bare minimum. It's at this point, that we decide to tell him the good news, and we let him know that it would be our pleasure to build him a new modular home.

Now, the fun part begins. Through monetary donations from past volunteers, as well as materials donated from a local company, Aceros Arequipa (a steel company, which donates free wood and various other materials and resources to PSF), the wheels have begun to turn. The construction process has begun; the panels are made and being put together, furniture is being built, and we have found out that Ismael wants the modular to be painted a nice PSF celestial blue. However, just because we build this man a new home, it doesn't mean that all of his problems will be solved. There are still other residual issues that loom over us. We still have to figure out how he's going to be able to eat everyday and how to get some working electricity into the modular. We can change lives to an extent, but can we do something that will help individuals self-sustain the improvements? We shall see; only time will tell.

(This blog is to be continued. Expect another one once the modular is built and inaugurated).
*If you would like to “Adopt a home” of your own or make any donations to PSF, please visit the PSF website at piscosinfronteras.org and click on the “DONATE” link, or you can also donate through one of our partner organizations, Omprakash; check out our profile at www.omprakash.org.