What's going on down there, Peru?

from our IW Missionaries serving in Chimbote, Peru.

by Emily Ruskamp

I have found that being a missionary is not limited to a “site.”  One Wednesday night after English class a couple girls from the parish wanted Kelli and I to go with them to Nuevo Chimbote to a celebration of the town’s anniversary.  It was a school night, so their dad would only going let them go if we accompanied them.  My brother was also visiting at the time, so we decided to go for it.  A group of us piled into a taxi and headed over to the Plaza for the concert, fireworks and carnival games.  When we got there, a group of us were strolling casually around the plaza when I recognized on a park bench a mother and daughter sporting Keiko stocking hats and sharing a bag of popcorn (by the time you read this our fate will have been decided, but at the time of writing it is a fierce battle between two terrible presidential candidates, one of whom is Keiko Fujimori, and this was further evidence of her technique to buy the vote of the poor).  It was Deborah, the mother of several kids in LENTCH, the support program for child workers that I volunteer with, and her 6-year-old daughter Kerit.  Kerit ran over to me and gave me a big hug as I approached them to say hello.  We chatted a bit and I asked them if they were there to enjoy the music, and Deborah said no, just trying to sell some bubble gum.  Business was really slow, though, she said, and they don’t get close to the stage because Kerit once witnessed a fight and is now afraid of concerts.  We talked for a short while more before parting ways.  About a half hour later, I saw them again in the distance, now with one of the older brothers (perhaps 14 or so), and they were pooling their coins together in Deborah’s hands.  The family outing was drawing to an end, and it seemed time to head home and get some sleep for school the next morning.  It was a bit uncomfortable to witness, but it was another reminder of what it means to accompany the poor.  It’s not just something we “do” while we’re at a volunteer site; it’s a lifestyle. It’s the way we live each moment of the day.

by Marcelle Keating

One of the beautiful things about volunteering for two years is that you have many opportunities to meet other interesting people who are traveling and giving of their time. I was recently very fortunate to follow a married couple from the U.S.  The husband, Pat, is a general practice doctor who works a bit in hospice and the wife, Deb, is a clinical nurse specialist in a psychiatric clinic. Not only do they have experience in hospice in the U.S., they have experienced hospice in  a handful of third world countries. It was very heartwarming to see the staff respond to Pat and Deb’s advice and witness their transformation. 

One patient, in particular, captured the essence of their mission. Al (name changed) was dying of a disease, pulmonary fibrosis.   It is a disease that causes a lot of discomfort.  As the lungs lose their elasticity, it becomes painful to breath. Al had definitely been a challenge for the staff in hospice.  He was psychologically dependent on oxygen. Much of what he did seemed to be for show.  He and his family were anxious and constantly demanding attention.

 

Pat put him on morphine. Morphine is available here in hospice but it is reluctantly prescribed.  Many fear addiction or loss of respiratory drive. Pat and Deb were able to educate the hospice doctor and the patient’s family about the benefits of morphine, especially acting directly on the lungs and aiding Al, the patient, in comfort.

Palliative care, care that emphasizes comfort rather than finding a cure, is a corner stone for hospice in the U.S.  but is still a relatively young concept in Chimbote. Families and even the staff here put a lot of effort into sustaining life, even when someone is actively dying from an incurable disease.  Al illustrated this point as well.  With the morphine on board, Al’s respirations returned to normal.  He was able to verbalize he was comfortable and anxiety free.  His requests became infrequent and he began to sleep more. You could tell he was starting to let go. 

The patient was sleeping through some of his meals and the staff wanted to decrease the morphine to make him eat again. Pat’s question went back to the patient, “are you hungry?”  “No”, Al responded. The staff needed to learn to let go as well. Many patients in hospice become like family and this can be difficult. The most important thing for Al was that he was comfortable, pain free and anxiety free. The staff finally understood this. 

I am grateful for Pat and Deb’s presence in hospice. I couldn’t help but think of the Buddhist saying, “When the student is ready, the teacher appears.” Their visit could not have come to hospice in Chimbote, Peru at a better time.

by Kelli Nelson

Greetings from Peru!  What’s going on down here, you ask?  Well, let me give you some of the latest news.  As of this morning, we no longer have three ducks waddling around our backyard.  That’s right, they have offered themselves up for something a little bit greater, a frijolada, which is a common fundraiser here that includes a plate of rice, beans, and duck, and usually sells for around 10 soles (or 3 dollars).  Due to recent and ongoing issues in the zone I work in called La Balanza, our team of volunteers made a move to step up our game in terms of programming.  This being said, funding is pretty high on the list for completing certain tasks in our strategic plan, and when asked what we could possibly do to raise money, I looked to our ducks and to my housemates for support.  Both were more than happy to comply, and I’ve gotten quite the cultural lesson in food preparation (from the backyard to the belly). While we are not an organization that is of the philosophy of giving money directly, we hope to use the funds for bettering our capacity for educational purposes by channeling it through our prevention program that includes workshops on self-esteem, familial violence, health, human rights, etc., as well as groups for academic reinforcement, adult literacy, and more.  La Balanza is now rated on a national level for its violence and drug traffic, and just two weeks ago a young girl, whose family is in our program, was shot and killed two houses down the street from the house that is our classroom.  As many of our clients and their children are concentrated on the same street, this recent event has indeed affected a multitude those in our program giving us no choice but to respond with urgency. And, while this is one of the many cases that has made the news, there continue to be countless incidents such as this that go unheard of in this sector that is left untouched by outsiders and approached recklessly by authorities because of its reputation.  I share this both in gratitude for the sacrifice our ducks and an enjoyable lesson in the process of this fundraiser, but mostly with a deep desire to share a bit about the reality of some of those who live in La Balanza, a people who have been labeled, stigmatized and marginalized by where they live, people who have become my family.