Below a red and white arch on Jirón 28 de Julio, a street near our university in Ayacucho, Peru, sits a market I have now visited three times. I’m still not quite used to the sight of entire chickens and sides of beef hanging above things like oranges and woven baskets, but I’m learning. The market is dark and chaotic, with people and dogs jostling past at a very un-Peruvian pace (i.e. fast) and some vendors’ wares spilling into the aisles. On Saturday, I had an excellent cup of coffee at a diner-like counter where a number of Ayacuchanos were having breakfast. I’m certain I’ll be back.
In the afternoons, I volunteer at an orphanage called Casa Hogar Los Gorriones. Most of the other volunteers there are European, mainly from Belgium and France, so our common language is a Spanish colored by accents from all over the world. Reassuringly, kids like to do pretty much the same things in Peru as in the U.S.: play soccer, throw things at each other, invent games on the spot and force us old folk to keep up. While we’re running around (and while I’m trying to remember the Spanish for “no, don’t eat that” and “leave the poor dog alone”), it’s easy to forget sometimes that these kids are here either because their parents are gone or because they have medical needs their families couldn’t afford to cover. Despite the beautiful views, this is one of the poorest rural areas of Peru, worlds removed from anything we saw even in Lima.
On a lighter note: as I write this, I am looking at a tiny black sheep that will not rest until the girl on the bench across from me pays it some attention. The streets here are so full of stray dogs, most of which are pretty calm, that I’ve come to think of them less as strays and more as community pets. One of my friends has begun naming the ones we always pass on the walk to class. Additionally, two roosters wake me up every morning between 4 and 6 AM, and the orphanage is populated by two rabbits, some chickens, several dogs, a turkey and a couple rabbits as well as the humans. No one who has ever met me would describe me as an “animal person,” but as in the realms of language and markets, I’m learning.