A visit to the jail.

Yesterday Marion and I went with Sister Marg Malady to visit the prisoners she teaches English to in the Miguel Castro Castro Penal Maximum Security. Prior to that we had to wait a number of weeks for our request to visit the jail to be processed and granted.
To say the least we both found it rather daunting to approach such an institution and the film ‘Shoreshank Redemption’ became a vivid reality as we faced all the check points and moved further into the complex. Some of the initial impressions were – concrete, steel, cold, close living, starkness, enclosure.
All the prisoners in this part of the jail are classed as political prisoners and as such are separated completely from the common prisoners. They are also classed as low risk. They were extremely friendly and were prepared to show us as much of the jail as possible. There seemed to be a very relaxed atmosphere in that they were able to move from cell block to cell block. All these four storey blocks were built around a central circular area.
A large proportion were employed in such activities as learning English, French or Italian, studying law or administration or working at ceramics, painting or woodwork. Some had even established their own small kitchens or shops. They do not receive a wage so they work out their own ways of getting some money. Basic foods are supplied by the authorities; however, they did say they do not get fresh milk, fruit or vegetables. They have to rely on visitors to supply that type of food.
Alex, their English teacher welcomed us to the group and also explained the present situation regarding their sentences, he has served fifteen of his eighteen years. The actual class consisted of twelve men with a wide range of English language ability. We then talked about why we came to Lima and answered many questions about Australia ranging from geography to social security and beyond! After about ninety minutes we shared a cup of coffee with a few and listened to an unbelievable classical guitarist.
It can be very sobering to talk to someone who has still seventeen years to serve; he will be seventy-two when released.
As Alex and his friends escorted us to the last gate they are allowed to approach we promised them that we will return and talk some more.
We both came away with this grand dilemma – on one hand should not the government come to terms with the fact that ‘enough is enough’ and show some leniency or are some of these men still basically terrorists and therefore deserve their sentence?
The final weird anomaly was that we returned to the multiple locks, bolts and steel mesh that we presently call ‘our home’!

A short time with Kate.

Marion and I have just had a wonderful week with our daughter Kate, she was on her way home to Australia via Lima. During her short stay we managed to show her a wide range of life styles – from here in Montenegro to a very different area around Miraflores and then to the beach side at Punta Negra.
We even managed a visit to a extraordinary restaurant in the heart of Lima run by Sisters of a French Order. It is housed in an unbelievable old house which has been fully restored by the Sisters. They both cook and serve on the tables throughout six different rooms and at certain times they sing the Angelus or the parts of the Divine Office for the patrons, and the word is their harmony is brilliant. Sadly they did not sing the day we were eating there, nevertheless, we have promised to return.
Sunday morning really gave her another insight when Mick took us to a first anniversary of a small community way up one of the adjacent valleys. Their first Mass was basically said outdoors beneath a small shaded area and then the site of the future church was blessed, after we scaled the rocky hill!
Her visit was all too short and the farewells last night at the Lima International Airport were difficult. However, on the bright side she will be in Australia when we return in January next year.





The first Mass and blessing of the site of the future church - however, not on the top with the cross!

Over the Andes to Tarma and back.

Last weekend I accompanied Leo, Diego and Aldo to Tarma for three days. Diego is the Director of the Columban priests in Peru and Aldo was our driver. It is the third time that I have taken this route over the Andes and the trip never ceases to amaze me, and at times scares me!

You travel from sea level at Lima to 4,818 metres at the highest point and then drop down to 4,000 metres at Tarma. In fact you reach 4,800 metres twice during the drive, the mining town of La Oroya is a little lower and in between the two high points. That is a very simplistic description of what actually happens! The distance from Lima to Tarma is only 240 kilometres and the driving time was just under six hours. Nevertheless, the road is continually ascending or descending as it winds around the mountains. The surrounding peaks are enormous and the valleys narrow and deep. Because this is one access to the Amazon, via La Merced, the traffic is always heavy - cars, tourist buses and the large trucks laden with timber and fruit from the jungle coming towards you all the time. Not to mention the times you are trying to pass all the slow trucks.

Tarma is an amazing town situated in an equally amazing valley, thus it has been named ‘The Pearl of the Andes’ and rightly so. It is a huge producer of fresh flowers for the markets in Lima. On my previous visits the flowers were in bloom, however, this time I was too early.
The reason for the visit was to attend the 50 year celebrations of the formation of the Catholic Diocese of Tarma. I managed just one event, the Saturday morning Mass at the Tarma indoor basketball stadium; the Cathedral was too small for the crowd. I could not believe the band, the singing and the flag waving crowd, you could not help being swept up in the atmosphere. You just wanted to be part of the crowd. Not bad for a person who only attends the quiet eight o’clock Sunday morning Mass! For half an hour before the start, the Master of Ceremonies spent his time and energy whipping the congregation into a ‘Mass’ frenzy! There was also a character on tall stilts and dressed in an all gold costume assisting with the warm-up activities.

The actual Mass was a very solemn affair and attended by ten Bishops. I did not realise that the cumulative noun for that many Bishops is a ‘bench’ I thought that it may have been a ‘sea of Bishops’!

The Offertory Procession is worth mentioning, it included all the parishes and their representatives were dressed in their traditional attire and carrying local produce to be presented to the Bishop. Even two miners carried up containers of the local minerals with their miners lamps alight. The stilt man went up with his parish group to greet the Bishop.
However, I must mention that I arrived at the stadium at 9.30 a.m. for what I was told a 10.00 start; it began at 11.00 a.m. and was winding up at 1.45 p.m.!

Huasahuasi and surrounds.

After the Mass Leo and I were taken by his friend, Hector, to visit the small town of Huasahuasi where Leo spent many years. If you think the road to Tarma has its moments you are in for a real treat when you travel the fourteen kilometres from the highway to Huasahuasi. Hector did inform us that the authorities had widened the road in some of the more dangerous spots. I must admit that it seemed that two cars could now pass in most spots!

Two views of the road into Huasahuasi We visited the new grave site of Sister Irene McCormack, an Australian Josephite Sister murdered with four others by the Shining Path terrorists on 21st May 1991 in the main Plaza of Huasahuasi. Both Marion and I have visited her grave in the past and it is still an eerie feeling standing before the grave of a murdered fellow Australian so many kilometres from her homeland. Her story is an amazing one an can be followed up through Google. I often find it a chilling reminder that the Shining Path terrorists operated in the 1980’s and early 1990’s and were responsible for over seventy thousand deaths in that time.

My final memory concerning the trip, and a rather light hearted one at that concerns the fact that we stopped for breakfast on the way back to Lima at La Oroya. Leo ordered patasca, a local favourite soup made of potato, corn and sheep ‘bits’, very tasty if you can manage to negotiate the latter! Aldo went one better, his soup contained the entire lamb’s head which he devoured with relish. Not something that one wants to watch at seven in the morning! I settled for my usual, ‘pan con huevo y queso y café solo’ - bread with egg and cheese and a black coffee.
The mining town of La Oroya on a bleak day.

The saga of our visas.

Last Sunday morning we arrived at the Lima International Airport at 1.20 a.m. for a 4.00 a.m. flight to Tacna on the southern border of Peru and Chile. The flying time was about ninety minutes. The idea was that we would cross the border into Arica, visit the Peruvian Embassy and gain twelve month visas, stay the night in Arica and return to Tacna for a 9.00 p.m. flight Tuesday evening.
We were assured that the applications had been approved and that the paperwork would be in Arica on arrival. The reality was that Marion’s had arrived and that mine had been unfortunately sent to Santiago and it was not possible for the authorities to make the necessary alterations and fax the documents to Arica! The end result being that Marion is OK and I received another three months tourist visa on the way back into Peru, I will have to make another trip south when the three months expires. The worst part was that when we returned to Lima we found out that the corrections had been made and the papers arrived in Arica a few hours after we left for the journey home! I must be jinxed.
The border crossing is something that has to be experienced to be believed. Firstly you are confronted at the airport by all the drivers seeking your business to take you across the border. You basically have three choices, buses, executive taxis or collectivos. The latter are by far the cheapest and are big, old cars which will take five people at a time. We took the executive taxi going south and paid fourty five American dollars, on the way back we opted for a collectivo and paid considerably less and got there just as safely, maybe a little faster! These drivers try for three runs a day. The distance is about sixty kilometres with the actual border crossing half way. The time problem exists with the double paperwork, firstly leaving Peru and then just down the road entering Chile. I would hate to think how many people handled my passport as I negotiated the two administrations.
You are not allowed to drive across, you get out of the car and enter the building at one end, do all the checks, the driver goes across, you come out the other end and get back into the car. Remembering you are doing all this with heaps of other travellers all trying to get through as quickly as possible.
And in about one month I am going to endeavour to do this in one day, leave Lima very early in the morning and arrive back later in the night! Marion may never see me again.


The collectivo car park - the drivers are busy seeking passengers and as soon as they get four or five they are off!




The actual crossing points of both Chile and Peru. The bus name of 'El Rapido' hardly describes what is actually going on!

Our hotel in Arica, I thought that I was paying thirty three American dollars when in fact it was thirty three thousand pesos - about three times more than expected!



The surrounding country between Chile and Peru is as bare as the pictures show, the landscape goes for kilometre after kilometre!

Some children of Pedregal Alto

Our friend Miguel - and our impressions of the visit.

Marion's impression...
Visit accomplished! We went in again today and we were waiting in the corridor for visiting time. Miguel was having a little walk before lunch and when he saw Luke, his face lit up. It was so special. Then he embraced us both and invited us to the ward. Luke presented his English Certificate to him and he was delighted. I then gave Miguel our small gift of biscuits. He didn't open the gift but we had chosen a tin of biscuits with butterflies on it. Miguel was a collector of 'butterflies' from all over the world and at some stage in his life, had to leave this collection behind. We hoped that the humble tin of biscuits would remind him of good times.He was in good form and he is now having injections for five days to determine whether they will operate. His own doctor doesn't want to operate but Miguel indicated to us that there is a lump in his groin. He is such a gentleman and we intend to support him as much as we can through this difficult time. He is staying in the hospital on Av. Grau as it is very hard to get a bed. We gather that his wife and son and daughter visit on the weekend. His wife lives at their apartment in Lima and Miguel is in Montenegro, He told us that his wife is in Lima supporting the children. One, the son is a lawyer and the daughter is also studying to become a lawyer. We really don't know the whole story but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we can give this man our love, our prayers and our support. As we came away from that dreary, old-fashioned hospital we thanked God that we live in Australia. I think it is the impact of so many human beings needing care; it is full on and overwhelming. How fortunate we are! We will continue to visit and make sure Miguel knows we are there to help him through this difficult time without imposing on him or his family.

Luke's impression...
Yesterday we visited Hospital Guillermo Almenara in Avenida Grau, a huge public hospital on the edge of Lima’s Central Business District. It was the second visit in two days, the day before we found out on arrival that it was not a visiting day! The reason was to visit one of our English students, Miguel, and to present him with his certificate. Miguel is a delightful man, a perfect gentleman, and a man who in his own words said to us that we should not worry because ‘I believe in God’. However, the medical people have discovered a malignant tumour behind his knee and they are presently deciding whether to operate or not. In the meantime Miguel awaits their decision in hospital.
He has a wife and family; however, due to their work and study commitments they find it almost impossible to manage their free time to coincide with the strict hospital visiting hours of 2.00 p.m. till 4.00 p.m., three afternoons a week! Weekend times are a little easier, 2.00 p.m. till 5.00 p.m.!
He has already been two weeks in the hospital. I am sure that the hospital staff work very hard in caring for their patients, nevertheless, the conditions are tough in the area we visited. Small, open ward areas off the main corridor, eight beds in each area with enough room for a chair and personal locker between each bed. We even noticed that in some areas men and women shared the same area. He told us that beds are at a real premium and when one comes up you just have to take it. At least he has no costs to cover due to the fact that he paid medical insurance all through his working life.
The whole experience made me reflect on how lucky I was to be able to be hospitalised in the Clinica International!
Just to see his face when we arrived with his certificate and other small gifts was worth every minute of the bus journey. Even when we departed he escorted us to the entrance and gave us both a huge embrace.
We must return in order to supply him with some English reading material or even CD’s from the English/Spanish course. His English is very good; however, he really wants to learn more and more.
We hope and pray that he news in the future will be good for Miguel.
Miguel is on the far left of the photo, this was the night that we presented them with their Spanish/English dictionaries.

Certificate presentation.

The happy group with their certificates are from the rear left - Pilar, Maria Teresa, Juana, Roxana, Rubi, Marion and Father Mick while in the front are Joao, Galdys and Rubi's son Willi.

Last Monday evening we presented our first group with certifiactes recognising the fact that they had completed a certain number of hours studying conversational English. The actual certificate also outlined the course content that we have been following over the thirty six lessons. To say that 'our students' were thrilled would be the understatement of the year! Each had their name individually printed, the signatures of Father Mick McKinnon, Marion and myself and stamped with the Motupe/Montenegro Parish seal. The people here treasure documents such as these so we made a big effort to support them and present them with something of value.
We have offered this group the opportunity to come to our house every Monday evening from now till the end of the year in order to develop their conversational English skills even further.
Marion and I have come to realise that it is not necessarily the importance of the langauge skills that they have gained but rather their growth in confidence and self esteem. They have come to the realisation of their personal worth as they have gained more confidence in themselves.