Raising a family and working in the Andes - April 14, 2025
Seriously, I’m proud of both my sons. My older son Greg, specifically has had to play catch-up becoming a father to his wife’s now 10 year-old Mati, and then with his second son, Leo, who’s 3 years old. Wow! Linda and I had 7 years of marriage under our belts before our kids arrived: Enough time to really get to know one another (so glad we did that since we grew up in vastly different cultures between Northern California and north-central British Columbia, Canada). Honestly the way Linda took to becoming a mother was soooo satisfying to me: I had no idea this would happen!
Giving birth in a natural-birthing clinic in Lima was one thing! Then there was caring for infants, then toddlers while living in a rustic Quechua village with mud walls and floors! With continual improvements on our home with the help our “compadre” Erpidio, we had a decent latrine out back, cement floors, and cement and stucco (plastered) walls both inside and out onto our front patio, all within a 2-year period. It seemed for the first few years like all we were doing was cleaning, eating and caring for the kids. But THAT’s what attracted our neighbors to us: Our dedication to “stick to it” and remain in the village for as long as we did.
Our kids grew-up surrounded by other kids, lots of aunties, uncles and PLENTY of farm animals (pigs, goats, chickens, cows, horses, donkeys, dogs, cats… and guinea pigs! For them every day was entertaining and an adventure. Some friends thought that raising kids surrounded by Spanish, Quechua and English would hamper them in their educational development: NOT! They loved it and played games with it as well. Sometimes Linda and I’d speak to each other either in Quechua or Spanish pretending to hide a secret conversation from them. That just made them all-the-more anxious to pick up all three languages! Ha! So as far as safety and security was concern we really were in the best place possible. Why? Because it was our Quechua godparents then, by extension, the whole of Cajay that accepted us there.
And there were culture clashes for sure! One day an old Quechua farmer knock on our old wooden front door.
“Gringo-Anchi,” he said (Anchi is a diminuative form of Andres, the name I used in Peru).
“Wanna buy my donkey?” I declined and he further persisted, so I thought I’d have a bit of fun.
“I don’t eat donkey and can’t use it in my home.”
Shocked, he responded. “Whaaa?? You don’t eat donkey! You can’t eat my donkey!!” And to stomped off. About an hour later my compadre Erpidio knocked and asked, “Did you say to that old man you wanted to eat his donkey??!!”
I explained what happened and thought that might be a way to discourage him from persisting in trying to sell it to me. Erpidio busted out laughing. “That’s great! Now the whole town thinks you eat donkey ‘cuz he’s telling everybody!”
Oh there were other problems: Sickness, rain, landslides and a few Shining Path incursions into the valley. One required us to leave the valley and live for two years in our SIL group compound in nearby Huaraz, 8 hours’ drive over the summit to the west). When Linda was 8 months pregnant with Greg we almost didn’t make it out of the valley due to a landslide. We tried to cross a stretch, counselled by a foreman of the road crew at the landslide site, and our Toyota 4x4 Hilux sunck in the mud to bottom of the doors! It wasn’t until the nearby tractor pulled us out onto the far side of the road (going to the coast) that we were able to continue: Whew!
This lifestyle provided a great built-in rural education for our kids. Schooling was anther matter. We brought grade school curricula with us from Canada/USA and worked with them a few hours a day. Sometimes we had an itinerant teacher, Bonnie (from Jackson Hole, Wyoming), who spent several months with us working with the kids every day. She was a professional biologist who at one time worked at Ecuador’s famous Galapagos Island, so she brought with her her infectious wonder of nature and the kids really took to her. This was one more way SIL supported us and we were thankful for her being there!
Conchucos Valley is home to Caritas, Catholic Relief offices, as well as the regional bishop of the area who was ensconced in Huari, the provincial capital. In every district town in the province there was a chapel where the local priest would come and visit with the locally assigned catechists. As a result there were many religious events as well as national holidays celebrated in our community of Cajay which we regularly participated in. And every day the village primary school sang Peru’s national anthem so our kids became quite familiar with both the words in Spanish and the tune (BTW, since they were born in Peru to this day our sons also have Peruvian passports!).
Many festivities took place during the year with decorative costumes (Huari Dansa, Pallas, Yuriwas dance groups, for example). But our favorite was “Pastorcillo,” which was celebrated on 3 Kings day or Epiphany (Dia de los Reyes, Jan. 6). It was a festivity involving all the villages throughout the province where children were chosen to represent and enact a traditional morality play with children as the dancers, singers and actors. [Note: you can watch this musical play from the nearby town in Sihuas, Ancash. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zCxGOWOuh8]. This was the most delightful (and sober!) festival during the year and our kids loved it!
All inhabitants in the village of Cajay were farmers. Some also had specialty trades such as carpentry, blacksmithing, cobbling, the milling of wheat and corn, and even the making and oven firing of adobe roof tiles. So Cajay’s agrarian cycle was full throughout the year: Corn, wheat, and potato planting, irrigating, weeding and harvesting. We too took part in each of these as we were invited by our “compadres” and neighbours. The kids were not required to pitch in, but they did anyway in their own way: Looking after stray farm animals, threshing and winnowing wheat, and of course eating the famous PACHAMANKA --pit-roasted beef, pork, and chicken along with potatoes, corn, and oca. Yum!
In summary, years later I have asked both my boys to look back on those times. When they do, I get bright smiles and… “Aaaahhhh!”
‘Nuf said!
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