pukllasunchis.

Imagine I am still in Peru - voila! I am writing this very post (and several others to come) in Cusco - amazing!

Anywho. Prior to our arrival to Cusco or even Peru, we had heard of the school, Pukllasunchis (Quechua for "Let's Play"), a bilingual school on the outskirts of Cusco and we were fortunate enough to visit the school during our stay. To call it merely a bilingual school undermines its progressive curriculum and school policy, and naturally I intend to inform you of its mission, et al.

Pukllasunchis began in 1988 under the financial beneficence of a Swiss woman whose name I can neither remember nor find. Over time the school has become increasingly more self-sustaining and the intent is for it to be completely independent financially. It was founded on the principles of social justice and equality, two values that can be seen in its curriculum and student body. The school does not differentiate between trades and academics – both are taught in the school’s interdisciplinary approach. Thus students are found in both the classroom as well as in the fields, tending to native plants and animals. Sex education is also taught at the school – a rare component to a school curriculum in a Catholic country (consequently there are no religion classes or affilitation). Classes are always taught in Spanish, but by the 4th grade they begin to teach Quechua, and 6th grade they start teaching English (I’m not sure if this is required or optional). At Pukllasunchis, students learn to make various things, including traditional medicines, teas, creams, soaps, etc from the plants they harvest and the art of weaving, and these various things are sold at art fairs every two months to help subsidize student tuition.

That said, tuition is based on a sliding scale; of the 750 students (ages 6-17), 20% pay no tuition, and the cap is at 280 soles (a little over $90) per student per month. The school attempts to enroll a diverse student body made up of students from a range of racial and social backgrounds – about 20% come from outside sectors of Cusco (which I believe means rural areas). Considering the desirability of attending the school, it comes as no surprise that students and their families must interview for a spot in the school. The student to teacher ratio is rather impressive as well – there are 50 full-time professors and 50 part-time professors.

The new facilities were built 5 years ago on their 2 hectares of acquired land. I was surprised to hear the design process, as it was the students who first were consulted regarding what they wanted, then the parents, and lastly the professors – all of whose input were given to architects to synthesize and develop. Following the school’s philosophy, sustainable methods to operate the building complex and help teach the students about living in a sustainable manner.

I’m sure the school is far from perfect (there were some murmurs of it losing its strong sentiments of social equality), but during our visit it was hard to see it in any other manner. The students were happy and there didn’t seem to be any animosity towards one another. In fact, the students seemed to be enthusiastic about attending school – something I don’t see much here in the States.

School building and recreational area

agricultural sector

UW and Pukllasunchis students playing soccer

annoying travelers.

I still have a bit to cover regarding my stay in Peru, however... I shall digress for an entry.

Is it too much to ask to sit next to a cute guy when I travel? Seriously, that’s all I want, a cute guy to sit next to. And what’s that? He’s witty, intelligent and clearly well traveled? Amazing! Sign me up! But no, there must be some higher spiritual being who enjoys placing me next to the most obnoxious people imaginable. Obese? Check. Incessant talker? Check. Aromatic? Check. Stupid? Check. (I once sat next to a guy who vehemently believed there were 51 states in the union, while I kindly assured him there were only 50) Armrest hog? Check.

From Lima to Houston I had the joy of sitting next to Beavis and Butthead incarnate. I jest not. Their cursing and crass talk was interrupted only by the ridiculous “huh huh huh’s” attributed to MTV’s infamous cartoon morons (yes, there are real living people who truly sound like this). One suggested to the other that he snort Benedryl as it would hit him faster – the advice of a brainless wonder. I struggled to figure out what exactly they were doing in Peru and who trusted them to represent the youth of our nation.

Please please next time be a cute, witty, and highly eligible man. Or at least an old lady who feeds me chocolate.

murals.

In both Lima and Cusco we were able to paint murals under the tutelage of Jorge Miyagui. Our initial plan was to paint over a mural in Villa El Salvador, but thanks to rain we ended up painting over a mural in El Averno (Spanish for hell), a space in Lima where the Mural Brigade often paints. Part of the Mural Brigade’s modus operandi is continual renewal – nothing is precious – hence the lack of concern for painting over other murals. Likely this perspective comes from experience in the public arena; murals with a political stance are often seen as contentious, and are thus painted over by local authorities. The bull, condor and lightning bolt were remnants of the old mural that we incorporated into our own. The prominent element of the mural is the female ekeko – an anthropologically impossible figure according to Jorge, but our aim was to challenge gender roles and expectations. That said, giving the “ekeka” a voluptuous figure seems to confirm these roles and expectations to a certain extent, rather than challenge them – however it has made the artists we’ve worked with (who are all men) think about such things. To the left of the “ekeka” is a rainbow (sprouting from coca leaves) that has a dual meaning. We all know the rainbow flag to signify gay, lesbian, and bisexual rights, which was our intent, but also the rainbow flag has flown in the Andes since the Inca Empire. It represents the four corners of the Inca Empire; presumably two colors represent each region – the north, south, Pacific Ocean, and jungle. We left a few signature marks, including the singing whale (Pacific Northwest) and our handprints in the clouds.

old mural we painted over

group in front of our finished mural

mural in El Averno

We painted two mobile murals in Cusco for Peru del Discurso a la Realidad, a group who seeks to critique current events and politics in Peru. The group displays images, quotes, critiques, and information in the main plaza of Cusco fairly regularly and the murals will be displayed along with everything else next time it goes up. That this is displayed in the main plaza of the country’s most touristy town is pretty impressive, and I hope tourists take the time to view the display and think critically about the information presented. Peruvian President, Alan Garcia and his relationship to the US of A (namely the Free Trade Agreement and neoliberal economic policies of and between both countries) are topics featured prominently in the display.

Given the discourse of Peru del Discurso a la Realidad, the two murals we painted in Cusco critique Peruvian policies and realities more so than our mural in Lima did. One critiques the extractive industries in the Amazon and the recent events in Bagua – trees and animals protest alongside an Amazonian tribesperson against the logging industry. The other mocks tourism by placing tourists in a reserve while llamas take pictures of the tourists and feed them “tourist” food (McDonald’s – which just opened in the main plaza a year ago, Starbucks – coming soon, pizza – way too ubiquitous in Cusco, Snickers, and other candy). I’m still suspicious that the woman resembles me a little too closely... long red wavy/curly hair, fair skin (hence the sunscreen on her nose), blue eyes would have been the kicker, but alas they’re green. PHEW. haha

I love the latter of the two murals, and will soon post about tourism. But, dinner beckons. And no, it will not be pizza.

textiles.

For those who know me well, you know how excited I was for the textiles of Peru. Though textiles have always been necessary for any civilization to keep warm and to be clothed, textiles amongst the Andean and coastal people of ancient Peru exceeded necessity – they held symbolic importance as well. To quote from my newly-purchased, beautiful little book Textiles of Ancient Peru:

Textiles provide the mirror in which the economic, social, political and religious development of every culture of ancient Peru is reflected, as well as defining the rank and status of the individual for whom they were made, possessing as they do a great mythical-sacred content through the incorporation of iconographic elements. (16)

Initially vegetable fibers were woven (depending on the archeologist – around 8000 BCE), but by 2500 BCE cotton was cultivated and by 1000 BCE llamas, alpacas, vicuñas, and guanacos were domesticated to produce wool. Remarkably there are textiles that remain intact after several thousand years, though most textiles from rainy climates have deteriorated.

camelid family tree

Part of our guided tour through the Sacred Valley included a visit to a llama, alpaca, and vicuña reserve. Our group helped stuff these gentle animals with green goodness and naturally I recorded the process. We were also able to see what plants are used to create dyes and I was excited to see the enticing cochinillo (a beetle found on prickly pear cacti - read: A Perfect Red: Empire, Espionage and the Quest for the Color of Desire) turn things a brilliant red. Yeah, I’m a dork. At the end sat perfectly placed women weavers (historically apparently both genders wove in Incan society) and we were told we could take pictures of them – as if they were another species in the animal reserve. So... I didn’t take pictures of them weaving, nor did I buy any of the very expensive items in the gift shop, conveniently placed at the exit.


Several weeks later we visited the Centro de Textiles Tradicionales del Cusco, a weaving workshop in Chinchero, a town outside of Cusco. Easily, this was what I was most excited for in our time in Peru. At first we were shown the process of spinning and weaving, but the rest of the day was dedicated to dying wool. We were split up into seven groups to create seven dyes – peach, yellow, orange, red (cochinillo!!), burgandy, purple (nearly indigo), and green. I was on team burgandy, though we tended to circulate and help when needed. Essentially the dying process goes as follows: boil water, add the dyestuff, add wool, let it boil for awhile, add more dyestuff if necessary, boil, remove wool from water, let cool, rinse, ring, dry. We all were able to take skeins of wool home, though yellow ran out before I was able to grab one up (which I’m pretty disappointed about – I’m the damn knitter after all!! ughhhhh). Our bathroom smelled like wet alpaca for several days while my roommates and I dried our newly dyed wool.

getting the fire started

burgandy pot - stirring dye and wool

burgandy pot

rinsing the red yarn

our yarn!

I did take pictures of some of the women from Chinchero, as the experience was far more collaborative than at the animal reserve. I also bought several woven pieces, each with a little tag that includes the name and picture of its maker. While our visit to the CTTC helped fund the non-profit, all purchases go directly to the women who work there. This may not sound that significant, but its good to see where your money goes, unlike in the markets where pieces very well could have been made in factories and going to undeserving pockets.

My, this is a monsterously long post – will leave it be for now. Coming soon... pictures of Machu Picchu, I promise!

solidarity.

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

to be continued.

Ughhhhhhhh, I have so much to say and no time or internet access in order to post. I promise I will post something soon!

amazing artists (amended).

During our stay in Lima we have met with a fair amount of artists (though no female artists - arg!), whose work I think poignant, beautiful, and necessary. It's difficult to know to what extent artists in Peru create art as a form political awareness and critique, but according to our guest artists, it seems to be a fairly consistent within the art world in Peru. I shall attempt to comment, critique, and praise the following artists...

Jorge Miyagui, left: "Llapa", right: "Alerta"

One of our professors met Jorge Miyagui at an art show some years past and has to a large extent been our main contact in Lima. He was so kind to not only connect our group to these artists, but to join us on each venture to meet the artists. Jorge says he doesn't think about his work while he's making it, but makes connections after the matter. I'm not sure to what extent I believe that - perhaps he may not be conscious of the way in which he uses images and such, but I think it's a process of his synthesis of visual and material culture of Peru, Japan (his ancestory and a considerable component in Peruvian history), and the US (thanks to globalization and other factors). For instance, PokeMan makes an appearance in a lot of his earlier work. My favorite piece of his I saw was "Llapa" (above, left), which speaks strongly to the social conditions of Peruvians. The image of the condor tied to the bull on the far left depicts an indigenous tradition (I'm still a little confused about it); the far left represents the story of the saint, Santiago Killer of Indians (same saint: Santiago Killer of Moors) in the modern context of Peru's dirty wars, trampling on a war victim, presumably indigenous; lastly the middle figure represents the aspect of transition Peru is attempting to make. One must question to what are they transitioning and to whose betterment? Is not Peru still a classist, even racist society, which neocapitalism (as we know it) continues to perpetuate?

Mauricio Delgado, left: "El Ekeko Atlas", right: "Mamá Macha"

Mauricio Delgado was the first artist with whom we met, immediately after visiting the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) exhibition at the Museo de la Nación. The first group of work he presented took the images from the TRC's exhibition (which were a compilation of images from newspapers and magazines of Peru) and painted them on floral upholstry (seen in "Mamá Macha" that shows mothers holding photos of their missing children from the dirty wars). I thought this was a beautiful - figurative and literal - way to allude to social strata in Peru. Images of mothers from Ayacucho juxtaposed on fabric used by Limean middle class creates a sweet but tragic composition and recollection of Peru's recent and present history.

I also adored Mauricio's "El Ekeko" series, including "El Ekeko Atlas." Ekeko's are Andean figurines that symbolize luck and fortune - but only if given to someone (meaning you will not receive luck and fortune if you keep it for yourself - throw back to gift societies perhaps?). His description of "El Ekeko Atlas" was a bit comedic, though mostly tragic; translation: "he's the Atlas Ekeko because the weight of dreams in Peru are so heavy," a comment that puts privilege into perspective.

Both Mauricio and Jorge belong to La Brigada Muralista, a group of artists who paint murals throughout Lima.

Javi Vargas Sotomayor, clockwise from top left: "Farrah-Amaru", "Dina-Amaru", "Frida Amaru", and "Marilyn-Amaru" from La Falsificación de las Túpac

The art of Javi Vargas Sotomayor is especially subversive when considering the political and religious enivorns of Peru. Javi critiques gender constructs in La Falsificación de las Túpac by superimposing campy makeup and female faces on mostly male figures important to Peru's history. History lesson: Túpac Amaru was the last Inca ruler and was beheaded by the Spanish in 1572 for helping to murder priests in Vilcabamba - a crime he likely did not commit. He remains an important cultural figure to indigenous people in Peru.* Back on the topic of gender, pre-Hispanic culture in Peru did not construct gender identification so rigidly as we presently understand it - gender was more fluid. I thought his show was amazing and I applaud him for making such a statement in a socially and politically conservative country such as Peru, though I wonder to what extent he perpetuates the modern/post-Hispanic constructs of gender with the hypersexual representation of men and women in the show. Something for him to think about...

Alfredo Marquez, left: "Mao", right: "Babel of Paradise"

The previous three artists are from the same generation, perhaps just a few years older than I am (which naturally makes me feel underaccomplished, as per usual). Alfredo Marquez, on the other hand, is perhaps a decade or so their senior, and has experienced the atrocities of Peru's dirty wars first hand. In 1994 the Peruvian military (under the government of Fujimori) stormed his house and found an image of Mao, comparable to the image above, leading Alfredo to be charged and sentenced for 20 years in prison for allegedly supporting the group Shining Path (a Maoist group in Peru, see prior post). He was released in 1998 when his case was finally made - that the image of Mao was subversive not only in that he dared to make an image of Mao, but that he dared to paint Mao's lips red, "as if he were a prostitute" - Alfredo likely would have been threatened or killed by the Shining Path, had the group remained strong, for such an act of defacement. Though he served 4 years in a maximum security prison, and given only 30 minutes a day to spend outside of his cramped cell, his spirit was and remains remarkably unbroken. I consider myself very fortunate to have met him.

"Babel of Paradise" explores aspects of capitalism and communism and their effects on Peruvian and global society. A neat and tidy description of the layers: Tatlin's Tower (commemorated the Third Communist International in Russia) rises out of the traditional mythical image of the Tower of Babel, which rises out of the ruins of New York's Twin Towers, surrounded by the ruins of Lima's own buildings bombed by the Shining Path (just a few blocks from my hotel in the neighborhood of Miraflores in fact). The woman in the image should be familiar to anyone who reads the news - she (Specialist Lynndie England) is convicted of abuse of prisoners in Abu Ghraib. Alfredo had an interesting take on her, commenting that she, just like many Americans, joined the military in order to go to college and make a better life for herself. As represented in the painting, she, as with us all, depend on unstable, decrepit hegemonic foundations that help shape our perceptions and actions, including our most malevolent ones. I don't think he was trying to forgive her, more that he was making a statement about there being larger forces than those of a few individuals.

My my, this is rather long. I'll end it now in hopes to continue later. Adios for now...

*additional information that actually reflects the show: Túpac Amaru II created a rebellion against the Spanish in 1780. He suffered an even worse death than his namesake - he had to witness the death of his loved ones, suffered a failed attempt at quartering, had his tongue cut out, and was then beheaded.