Pt. 10: Reflections From Reality

August25 - Monday

I'm back in Lima, and the honest truth - I'm culture shocked. I guess that's what it is. Reality has hit kind of hard and all I really know how to do is cry. I miss the food. I miss Mama Sabina seated by the fire ready to serve hot caldo for the frigid morning.

It is wild to feel sadness and longing for a place I only stayed 5 days. It is wild to feel culture shock just returning to Lima. I thought about what I wanted to eat today, and I thought about potatoes, about ocka, about avena, about potatoes. I miss Luis' constant companionship, I miss the stunning scenery. I feel dizzy and overwhelmed by the movement, the technology. Sitting at my computer I feel motion sick!

When we were in the sierra I told myself that I would be thankful to be free of Luis' pestering. He took excellent care of me, to the point of driving me absolutely nuts. We shared a bed - or, I should say, we slept on the same pile of hay - there weren't many other options. So, every night I would get hot under the layers of woolen blankets. I would kick off a blanket; I would take off my hat; I would keep one arm outside in the cold air. And without fail, every night he would wake up (I swear it was on the hour, every hour) and re-cover me, put my hat back on, pull the blankets to my chin. I would argue, I think one night I was even brought to tears by my desire to be left alone. He would ignore my protests and say sternly "Lore. Tápate." (Lore. Put your covers back on.) When it started to get chilly in the afternoon, he would stop what he was doing and make sure I was properly bundled up. When we ate, he would give me more food than I could finish and wouldn't let me eat lightly. It was a constant battle: "Lore. Eat." "Lucho. I'm not hungry, look, I did eat." "No, you didn't eat enough. Lore, eat." Sometimes, even if we weren't sitting together, he would look at me from across the room or field and call "Lore. Eat. Lore. Bundle up, put your jacket on, where is your hat?"

I thought I would be happy to be free of his incessant care. Instead, I find that I miss it. I slept through the night; no one bothered me. And I was lonely. I wander through the day thinking about Mama Sabina and Mama Juana, missing potatoes 5x a day, and missing the constant presence of Rondoní in the distance.

October7

Reflections from a Month Removed

I want to go back. How I felt so settled there in so little time, I have no idea. It isn't in any way logical. All I know is that I dream - day and night - about Potrero. It is the most peaceful place I have ever been. Not in a luxurious way; the life isn't easy. If you want to surivive, you have to work. But if you want to work, you can live well, in a hard Andean existence kind of way. I dream about returning there to live for months. In some strange way, I felt incredibly at home. I love it. I long for it. I will go back.