Peru: FWM Day 4

Day 4: February 3, 2011

It is our last day in Peru. We really appreciate all of the encouraging words and it has been inspiring to see the support from our friends back home. As you can probably tell, we have been humbled by this experience and I feel the question has been answered regarding why we came to Peru.

Every day here has been about discovery. This morning was certainly no different as we looked at our itinerary and loaded 3 more chairs into the van. After this weeks experiences it seems that each chair has their own unique story to tell…we just don’t know what they are yet.
After Cody got back from his daily walk to Starbucks (about 2 miles)… the man loves his Grande Americano’s …we were on our way to our last deliveries. The ride to our first stop was in a small district called Huaycan. We passed a beautiful park along the way. This part of Peru is very dry and the lack of rain limits the vegetation. If you see green grass and flowering plants it is because someone is watering them. We wove through bustling villages and death defying intersections until we found our destination. I am still a little baffled at how Sergio has been able to find all of the places we have been. There are no real street signs or address plaques. We drove straight to the community center…where we would find Fausto.

Fausto

Rebecca, one of the FWM assistants led us through yet another dark threshold into a room that looked somewhat like a warehouse. It was a brick storage building where the local community sometimes stored food. Today it is a temporary shelter for seventy-eight year old Fausto. As we walked in Fausto put his hands to his face and began sobbing. Joe was the first to sit beside him and take his hand. It was hard to tell if Fausto was sobbing from happiness or sorrow but the look on his face illustrated a man who didn’t expect to be in this situation near the end of his life. We gathered around his bed, which was propped up by buckets and milk crates. The interpreter began to ask Fausto questions about his condition. Apparently just four months ago, Fausto fell. He said after that …he could not walk. Then he tried and fell again. A member of the community helped us understand that Fausto had broken his hip in the fall. Untreated, his broken hip was obviously causing more serious complications and he could not move from the bed. He didn’t feel like he could sit in the wheelchair yet. As we talked, Fausto would periodically break down and cry. The wild and strained look in his eyes seemed to express disbelief. He had no home and no relatives and was completely dependent on the community…a community that struggles to feed and care for their own families. We inquired about the extent of his medical needs to see if there was more we could do, but the complications of making that happen were extreme. At the end of our visit Fausto seemed more relaxed and happy. We left him food and his chair, which I am starting to understand, represents more that just temporary relief. They really represent faith and hope. He smiled and waved as we walked back out the door.

Katrine

Fausto made my heart heavy. And a few blocks away twelve year-old Katrine really helped cheer me up. When we arrived her grandmother immediately placed her in the wheelchair and wheeled her outside where a few of her friends came by to see what was happening. The smile never left her face. She was beautiful. She had apparently suffered from Meningitis as a baby and the high fever sent her into a coma. The damage to her brain was serious and she cannot walk. Her grandmother watches her while her father is at work and she was very excited to now be able to take Katrine to Church. She said that Katrine was getting too heavy to carry. We chatted with her grandmother for a while. It seems that Katrines mother abandoned her, unable to cope with her needs. It is easy to judge and feel anger for Katrines mom… but just like a crippling disease, some people are simply not emotionally capable of handing the pressures of caring for a child with special needs. And then there is Veronica.

Veronica and Jhonny

Our last visit of the trip was a visit with Jhonny. Tim, Cody and I thought we had seen the most challenging conditions until we carried that last wheelchair thirty feet up a rocky dirt path to find Jhonny. Jhonny’s home was made of thin scrap wood with a roof of rusted tin and canvas pieces. Jhonny was alone in his bed when we arrived. He is obviously severely disabled with limited cognitive ability. We would later learn that as a baby he had injested amniotic fluid and developed Encephalitis. According to the neighbor, his mother had to leave him alone to go collect some food at the community center. Cody and I struggled to get the chair inside and once in, there was hardly much room for anything else. It wasn’t clear if he could understand anything we were saying or if he was aware of our presence. We just stood there watching him…occasionally he would thrash and jostle the fly’s that pestered him. I felt helpless and very small. After a few minutes we stepped out and decided to wait for his mother. I sat on the makeshift stone steps and looked out over the hillside at the rest of the neighborhood. It was all so unbelievable. Thirty minutes or so later one of the Tricycle taxis pulled up and out came a women moving hurriedly on one leg and a crutch. Meet Veronica, Jhonny’s mom. Veronica has Polio in one leg and it stays tucked under her skirt behind her. I stood there and watched as she climbed the hill. I clumsily reached to help and she just smiled and hustled past…almost embarrassed that we had come by in her absence. The next hour or so was spent visiting with Veronica. She was very excited that now she would be able to take Jhonny with her when she left the house because with only one working leg she could not carry him. She smiled the entire visit and talked about how thankful she was for everything. I will think about Veronica many times in life and I will wonder how she is doing. We have all heard it said that the eyes don’t lie. When you look in Veronica’s eyes you see a strength that betrays physical conditions. Her living situation is incredibly dire….but Veronica has chosen to get up in the morning. She has chosen to care for Jhonny who will never be able to do anything without her assistance. Six people live in her ten by sixteen foot house. Veronica could have changed her living situation and never returned home from that market, but she chooses to be here. Cody asked if he could take her photo. She smiled shyly and asked him to hold on while she went into the back room and changed her blouse. She wanted to have a clean blouse for the picture. Material wealth doesn’t buy pride or integrity or dignity. Veronica has as much of that has anyone I have ever seen. I don’t feel sorry for Veronica because she has what many others don’t. Yes, I want easier living conditions for her and Jhonny, but I don’t think she needs our pity. It was an honor to take her picture and her confident smile gave us back more than anything we could have carried up that dirt hill.


To close I want to give thanks and appreciation to the Free Wheelchair Mission, Don, and the amazing staff in Peru. They do this stuff everyday and I am in awe of what they accomplish. Those wheelchairs have so much impact and just having them in the room gave people hope for a better life. Before I left on this trip I met with many of the associates in Cranbury that are from Peru. I see now why they have so much pride for their country. The culture of the people was so positive and warm that I never felt like a stranger. Everyone was so open and welcoming. Last night we went to dinner at a beautiful large open-air shopping complex called Jockey Plaza. The beautiful sunset was perfect closure for this amazing opportunity. Tim, Cody and I have received so much more than we have given on this trip and it was an honor to represent our company, friends and family…Thanks for reading.