Restore the Glory

Ancient civilizations on the desert coast poke their noses out from the sand, curiously take a sniff. The salt sprayed air smells different, with wisps of singed petroleum. Their ears buried in the ground fill with a humming noise.

"?" they ask.

Excited archaeologists move sand, step carefully and carve out shapes of what they think the past civilization should look like. Here, a dented collarbone close to a shattered claypot is never a coincidence. Here, this handful of sand is meaningful, soaked in chemical analysis and checked three times. You have to read between the lines.


They say this one is 1000 years old. I can't remember that far back. That's much older than my grandpa. They call it the civilization Moche, since no better name caught on first.


They're still trying to decide what to call this one (Norte Chico or Caral or Caral-Supe). And these ones, they're 4500 years old. I wouldn't be able to tell. Egyptians put up pyramids around then. Who did this? Picture what an imaginary name on an imaginary face did. Two thousand grandpas.

One guide is grateful that the Spanish conquered South America and not the English because the English slaughtered whereas the Spanish integrated. For the other guide, the Spanish conquest was the beginning of the end, a loss of respect for everything and the consequent downhill slide. Restore the glory!

Numbers and worn down buildings and bones is all we have to go off to find a cosy interpretation. A vanished culture always feels like a tragedy. After all, who's not happy to be here.

The Good News is Part 1

I find it hard not to worry about the world. Our civilization is under threat and I feel like I should warn everyone because no one knows but I have to be careful not to talk too much about it because the truth is, most people don't want to hear it. No one likes a self-righteous party pooper dispensing advice from an imaginary high horse. And I don't want to beat a dead horse. And no one wants a guilt trip (on a horse?). Plus, I don't want to lead a horse to the river if I can't change horses midstream. Someone hold my horses, this is getting ridiculous. Never look a gift horse in the mouth...because gift horses have ugly mouths I think. Okay, I'll stop.

But my family is contractually obliged to listen to me so even in the historical marvel that is Cusco, I sent my sister a downer of a postcard lamenting that I didn't know what to do when children workers come up to me in the streets selling their candies. Should I give them something and support their parents in promoting child labour or should I refuse to give my spare change to child in need?

Here's another. There's a poor little boy that I sometimes see walking near my office who looks nothing like any of the happy children in this picture, least of all the kid on the far left. He's a shoeshiner, small, poor and dirty and can't be more than 8 years old (though sometimes you can't tell because malnutrition hinders their development). His presence contrasts starkly with the backdrop of my office, proud bright streets, swept, scrubbed and manicured, every tree and shrub attended to (daily, since Lima is desert afterall). Holding his brush and with a shoeshiner's stool slung over his shoulder, he drags his heels passing upscale cafe's and clothing stores, evading eye contact, not looking scared amongst these rich and powerful businessmen but bored rather. His swagger belied a tired mix of nonchalance and weariness, as if he's had enough of the un-stimulating existence he lives and the reality of this world. So young yet already so jaded.

I've seen a lot of child workers in Peru and Bolivia but this boy's attitude got to me. Other kids resort to different tactics to make a penny or two. Who can blame any of them for what they do? They should be in school, playing and learning. Instead, some rush around offering candy, some just look up at you with the cutest bambi eyes, some sing a song, some whine persistently. This boy however, behaved as if he'd been living this life way too long already. As if he didn't even care if he made an extra cent or two because he knew it would make no difference to his existence. Truth be told, he's absolutely right.

For the moment, this dirty boy is currently small and harmless enough to be disregarded in this affluent, closely-guarded neighbourhood. But as he becomes a young man he will begin to constitute a threat in the eyes of this community, intimidating merely with his presence rich ladies who will react by clutching their handbags tighter (I've seen that happen, and who knows? Perhaps with good reason). Without even a basic education, learning to read or multiply, this kid is locked onto a path towards certain poverty. In a world of laptops and internet, baby Beethoven tapes and a million stimulation tools for every stage of infancy, this boy and countless others have been left behind, failed by this world. Him and 72 million others.

****

I'm reading a book published by the Earth Policy Institute called Plan B 3.0 - Mobilizing to Save Civilization. It's available for free download here or here. The title sounds alarmist but the truth is, the facts are alarming. The book talks pragmatically about the four main problems threatening civilization, a tightly interwoven net of poverty, overpopulation, climate change and destruction of the Earth's ecosystem. Those are four monumental problems but true to the title, it's a plan to overcome these problems. It's straightforward, rather genius and worth at least a glance if you plan on living in this world.

Basic education is common sense. It gives people a way out of poverty, improves health and agricultural productivity and lowers fertility. In an overpopulated world, everyone benefits from educated mothers having fewer but healthier babies.

The fact that 72 million children worldwide are unable to attend school is both a symptom and a cause of poverty and overpopulation. Without learning to read or to count, the chasm between the rich and the poor will only widen. Like the little boy left to shine shoes, the undecated will be left behind, locked in a frustrating cycle of povery with no way out while watching the first world flourish. This is a dangerous combination, and as Amartya Sen is quoted in the book, "illiteracy and innumeracy are a greater threat to humanity than terrorism."

***

The good news is that as a world, we have made astounding progress. I think poverty has been the norm for most people for most of the duration of human history. Only recently have we secured access to clean water, education and food for a majority of the population.

China has done incredibly lifting people out of poverty (430 million people!! in two decades between 1981 and 2001) and has increased literacy in a growing population (from 65% in 1982 to 93.3.% in 2008). A country with an educated population advances quickly, on its own two feet and encourages democracy. Whenever I see kids in school, it gives me hope, no matter how rudimentary the classroom. Knowing the human spirit and being backed by a growing superpower, these kids will bring progress to the world, no matter how hard their lives. The state of the world's environment is going to depend largely on how China continues to develop and the decisions they make right now and in the future. Education can only help them to make the right decisions.

Peru as well has grown immensely in the past decade, currently equaling or possibly surpassing China's growth in GDP. This country is similarly developing and booming, making strides on many fronts while dealing with its own economic and political turmoils (in 1992, two carbombs planned by 'The Shining Path' terrorists brought down a building just two streets from where I live in the richest neighbourhood in Lima). Literacy rates in Peru have gone from 82% in 1981 to 90.5% in 2007.

Eliminating poverty worldwide is one of those things vague things like world peace that everyone wishes for. They seem like far-fetched pipedreams, unattainable goals. It's an answer to a question in a beauty pageant. I mean eliminate poverty?? All my life, all I've heard about is people starving in Africa. But eliminating poverty and world peace are closely related and regarding the former, it is becoming a real possibility. It's exciting and progress is being made everywhere....

Character Caricature (Using an Exclamation Mark in Text and Speech)

I recently moved into a homestay where I live with a married couple in their 50's and a few other international students. It's a nice environment, and after acclimating to this different social arrangement, it has become comforting. The mother cooks wonderful food and cleans and entertains. The father works long days, comes home and generates the noise in the house. Let me explain.

The father is a well established architect and is from Arequipa, the southern capital of Peru. In my Moon Guides Peru, Arequipenos are described as such:

"Texans of South America. Loud, confident."

They didn't mention excitable. Or use exclamation marks.

I came home last night at 9PM, found him eating dinner and asked him "How was your day? Long?"

He responded "Bien! Bien! Manana mejor!" (Great, great, tomorrow will be even better!). I can't capture his cadence of speaking in text but the general attitude is of an inclination to expressing oooooh! aaaahhh!! in whatever word is being said.

He injects conversations with moments of reflection and appreciation on the size of such a big supermarket or to marvel about the ingenuity of this building with drawn out words or just sounds (like the letter m).

He'll work himself up exhorting the importance of these two streets in Lima. "Do you know why they are important?! Do you know why?" asking twice or thrice, making you wait for the answer and building up an anticipation that is ridiculously exhilarating for a subject so mundane. "Because on the corner is the wonderful Interbank building!! The one that looks like it's inclining over the highway!).

I'm thinking
"Come on, on the one hand, it's just a building with some lights...


...but on the other hand, it does look like it's leaning over the highway!"


(Pictures from skyscraper.com)

He'll draw out syllables, so that a simple comment will last 20 seconds. E.g. "Mmmm, que bbuuuennnaa es la comida italiana, siii, que ddelliicccciioossoooo es!!" (How ddeelliiccciiouuss italian food is!!). And he'll sit there a minute practically smacking his lips as if he's actually eating Nona's sauce.

As if he's trying to fill the room with the word 'buuueennnaaa.' And the room fills. With mmmm and aaaaaahhhh and sssiiiiiiiiiiiiiii and quueee buuueeennnaaaa!! and their associated feelings. A large, enthusiastic presence.

We were talking about the herb Laurel (bay leaves I think) and I didn't know the word in English so he was trying to explain to me what it was and his wife said she had some in the cupboard and he gets excited "Aaahhh sii, en vivo! en vivo! Tienes que verlo!!" like "We have the real specimen, live! You must see this!"

This morning at breakfast, he wanted to open the curtains to let the light in. When it happened, you would have thought it was the first time he'd seen light come in through a window. "Loook! Look how it enters the room!!"

I don't know why but I laughed when I saw his architecture services wesbite today. At http://www.diegolarosa.com/. A character indeed.

I wonder what life is like for such a man, when every thing, every day is a living wonder. Do you get tired of describing marvels, and how could your heart withstand the sight of modern and ancient miracles like Tokyo, Times Square or Iguazu Falls or the Pyramids? Or is every day like seeing Machu Picchu?

Record set for exclamation mark usage.

Hanging Stars and Dropping Rain

Dave said to me during his first trip to South America "It's crazy to think that tomorrow I'm going to be back in Canada and this world is still going to exist. Like this isn't all just an elaborate play for me to see that disappears when I'm gone."

Dave says ludicrous things like "Um, there's a jaguar on your back!" or "See that mountain peak? That's where I was born." but I'm with him on this one. It is crazy! This world is crazy! It is crazy to even think that the world goes on without you. Does it? Even when you're not there to see feel hear smell taste it? A tree falls in the forest. No it doesn't. What goes on behind the scenes when I'm not paying attention? Are there elves behind the scenes hanging stars in the sky and dropping rain? Do they set up a fake elaborate ploy of a world and then scurry away moments before I wake up? How hard they must work when I travel.

****
Thousands of centuries before the Colca river was even named, it began cutting a canyon of red rock. This was happening all along and I never knew until Sunday? And now it's 3,400 metres deep? As if. And until the Amazon dries up, it'll keep cutting away? Even when I'm not around to verify? What if no one is around to verify? Unbelievable. But it's beautiful.


Machu Picchu was unknown to the modern world for so long, hidden in cloud forest, a secret paused in time until Hiram Bingham's chance discovery in 1911. And suddenly it goes from being non-existent to a must see miracle. Millions of tourists come to seek a glimpse of the past, to breathe the same misted cloud-forest air, touch the same stone that once an Inca sat upon. You would have seen it in my expression, having difficulty imagining the hard-to-imagine scene as it would have unfolded 500 years ago, even in the face of all this concrete (stone) evidence. "This ground I'm walking on? This same stone? Real actual people?" No way. Something this outlandish belongs in a hollywood movie, fairy tale.



Or the jungle. That was definitely an elaborate ploy, headed by our guide, Juan 'Loop' Carlos. The smell of green. The afternoon rains that turns everything into a slurry undefined mess. Hearing and feeling jungle activity transition from aloof daytime mode to aloof nighttime secrecy with all the animals, people, trees, flowering and breathing and breeding, rivers, air, clouds, all adjusted to the seasons, metered in rhythms, synchronized and humming wet green and brown on a million different frequencies. Um, I live in Lima. As if a world like this exists.

And this guy, a caiman, is a descendent of the dinosaurs? Dinosaurs?? As if. As if I dropped this guy at the exact same time the light went out on the canoe.

As if these guys grow to 6 meters. How? When? No way.



As if he'd harm a soul.

***
The only one world I know is the one inside my head. My brain is wired so that I, me!, hear that car honking, ME taste this food, I see, I feel, my senses are bombarded. My world is only made up of the things I experience. Travel reminds me that the world I know is a limited world. Travel rekindles feelings of awe. I feel like a baby, full of wonder and questions. All this time, this crazy world had been here, doing all this and it had just been far enough out of sight to be out of mind?


World record set for question mark usage.