August 4 A Moment of Grace

I'm sittIng on the terrace of an amazing hotel located in a tiny backwater town called Urabamba. The hotel (a Starwoods luxury hotel) is here I'm sure because Starwoods wants to be an established destination before the new international airport comes to town. 

No it won't be in this town, but near enough that this will be the retreat destination. It is high class in every way, but my friends Mary and Stu play what I call the points game and were able to get this extraordinary room for $60/n. Of course that doesn't include the cost of meals and amenities.....  But we went to town (8 blocks big) last night, found a bottle of wine and some cheese and crackers for about $15 all told. We ate and drank like royalty while gazing at the glories of the southern Milky Way. So bright, so clear, so available.

Now I'm sitting on the terrace watching, and feeling the cool of a snow storm at the top of the mts, trying to cross over the peaks. While I can see the storm at the top and feel the cool breeze blowing down the valley, the brown hillsides nearby are testimony to the fact that the storm won't reach here.

It's a peculiarity of places like this which cater to the very rich, that they are insular. There is nothing in this particular town to draw anyone out of here. The town is filled with one story mud brick houses with numerous wires strung all around, many of which are sprouting parasitic plants that make the wire look like it has magnetized metal filings and they are all standing on end. It's a funny sight.  One workman we saw working on a pole had attached a corn cob as an insulator, we assume.  Mary said that if the corn started to pop we would know we were in BIG trouble!

The shops here are lucky if they are 15 x15 feet - with lots of dusty things on shelves, hanging from walls and piled up around a few family members of all ages who spend their days together in community.  Everyone has their own storefront  with their own peculiar selection of goods to sell. A store that is primarily for stationery supplies, might also have Pepto-Bismol and wine. The man who is chopping meat on the checkout counter with blood etc all over his hands, might also be selling chips and vinegar, but no produce. The kitchen supply store might also have a selection of Madonna artifacts as well as shoes and big plastic storage bags.

It's easy to see how a mega store visionary could come in here and decimate the culture as everyone knows it. And that may happen when the airport comes in. Who knows.  What I do know is that the Ripley department store chain is nowhere in evidence in Cusco, and a full fledged clothing store is nowhere in evidence here.

The sun is beginning to set which lends the right light to expose the high mountain terracing which is so extraordinary. There are no roads to these fields, no machines to help. They are worked completely by hand - a worker having to haul himself up there on foot and hauling the crops down on his back. This is very hard country and the assumption of deserved leisure that this resort in this location makes is a mockery of the realities of the everyday life lived by almost all the people here.  I feel simultaneously blessed and guiltily disgusted by my circumstances in this moment.  Mostly blessed I'm afraid because I am in no physical, intellectual or emotional condition to withstand the hardships of daily life.

When I did the medical campaigns, the biggest complaint by far was generalized aches and pains from the ankles to the top of the head and from belly to the back. Almost everyone in those clinics was stooped over by a third and shuffling with pain and suffering. I have never seen such displays of physical hardship. I will do what I can to relieve pain and trouble where I can, but the issues are way more complex than I can cope with, even if I did have the language and more cultural awareness.