While I am currently in Cusco, there are a few things that I still want to address from my time in Lima. Though not unique to the nation’s capital, the topic of solidarity was a core theme in our ventures in Lima, namely in our visit to Villa El Salvador and the artist community, Lurín.
The story of Villa El Salvador is pretty amazing – it began as a shantytown in the middle of the desert, just 20 kilometers south of Lima, but by 1971 a city was in the making. (insert name), a leftist dictator leading Peru at this time, allowed for the city planning of Villa El Salvador. This is pretty incredible given that the government never attends to its poor, before or since. Through united group efforts, city planning commenced and people began to build - there is a tremendous amount of pride in the residents of Villa El Salvador.
Nevertheless, the standard of living in Villa El Salvador is far lower than anything I've seen in the States (which granted, I haven't been everywhere in the US of A) - most people spend their lives waiting and hoping to build their homes out of brick (as opposed to plastic, sheet metal, or woven fibers attached to a more flimsy structure), and if that's achieved, the next dream is to build a second story. To illustrate, there are a lot of buildings with rebar jutting out of the top in anticipation to build up. The city is also expansive. Because of the inability to build up, it sprawls out, causing its residents to rely on modes of transportation other than by foot. Trash can be found nearly everywhere, illustrating the country's lack of appropriate waste management, or at least outside of tourist destinations (which tend to be emmaculate).
I didn't take many photographs of Villa El Salvador, in fact, I really only took photos in the cemetery. There was something off-putting about getting off a chartered bus and taking pictures of people's homes. I feel it necessary to illustrate this city's story and all it entails, yet not at the expense of treating people and their belongings as if they are safari animals. Guess that's a mentality that will never allow me to be a great photographer...
view of Villa El Salvador from the cemetery
Anywho. On to Lurín. Lurín is an artist barrio made up of artisans from Ayacucho who mostly fled their Andean homeland to escape the violence during the 80s and 90s (Ayacucho was hit the hardest by the Shining Path and the military). We visited with a few ceramic and textile artists and they all were very excited to welcome us into their homes and workshops, likewise it was wonderful to visit them.
The amount of work that goes into the artists' respective pieces compared to the prices they sold them for amazed me. Being a craftsperson myself, I never know what to charge for my work, but I know I would charge more than they were for their work. Life is constantly a learning experience, and this was just another encounter that made me further appreciate the work of others.
One of the artisans said (or something to this effect), "though we are artisans, we are very much connected to the modern world." This struck me and I feel there is more behind this comment, including the common assumption that artists and artisans differ in sophistication, importance, and value. This of course is false, though the art world as we know it continues to perpetuate these assumptions.
Apparently art isn't for everyone though, and some of the students chose to play soccer with local kids. They lost sorely to the niños. And that's all for now.
artisan making all the tiny details the molds could not make
Andean angels
The story of Villa El Salvador is pretty amazing – it began as a shantytown in the middle of the desert, just 20 kilometers south of Lima, but by 1971 a city was in the making. (insert name), a leftist dictator leading Peru at this time, allowed for the city planning of Villa El Salvador. This is pretty incredible given that the government never attends to its poor, before or since. Through united group efforts, city planning commenced and people began to build - there is a tremendous amount of pride in the residents of Villa El Salvador.
Nevertheless, the standard of living in Villa El Salvador is far lower than anything I've seen in the States (which granted, I haven't been everywhere in the US of A) - most people spend their lives waiting and hoping to build their homes out of brick (as opposed to plastic, sheet metal, or woven fibers attached to a more flimsy structure), and if that's achieved, the next dream is to build a second story. To illustrate, there are a lot of buildings with rebar jutting out of the top in anticipation to build up. The city is also expansive. Because of the inability to build up, it sprawls out, causing its residents to rely on modes of transportation other than by foot. Trash can be found nearly everywhere, illustrating the country's lack of appropriate waste management, or at least outside of tourist destinations (which tend to be emmaculate).
I didn't take many photographs of Villa El Salvador, in fact, I really only took photos in the cemetery. There was something off-putting about getting off a chartered bus and taking pictures of people's homes. I feel it necessary to illustrate this city's story and all it entails, yet not at the expense of treating people and their belongings as if they are safari animals. Guess that's a mentality that will never allow me to be a great photographer...
view of Villa El Salvador from the cemeteryAnywho. On to Lurín. Lurín is an artist barrio made up of artisans from Ayacucho who mostly fled their Andean homeland to escape the violence during the 80s and 90s (Ayacucho was hit the hardest by the Shining Path and the military). We visited with a few ceramic and textile artists and they all were very excited to welcome us into their homes and workshops, likewise it was wonderful to visit them.
The amount of work that goes into the artists' respective pieces compared to the prices they sold them for amazed me. Being a craftsperson myself, I never know what to charge for my work, but I know I would charge more than they were for their work. Life is constantly a learning experience, and this was just another encounter that made me further appreciate the work of others.
One of the artisans said (or something to this effect), "though we are artisans, we are very much connected to the modern world." This struck me and I feel there is more behind this comment, including the common assumption that artists and artisans differ in sophistication, importance, and value. This of course is false, though the art world as we know it continues to perpetuate these assumptions.
Apparently art isn't for everyone though, and some of the students chose to play soccer with local kids. They lost sorely to the niños. And that's all for now.
artisan making all the tiny details the molds could not make
Andean angels
1 comment:
Really fascinating Merith. I love reading your commentary ;-) The panorama of the cemetery is eery and beautiful.
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