Quipus

Life continues much as before in La Policia de la Familia. The boy with no name is still there. He seems content enough with his lot.

Today there were four boys there and one seventeen year old girl with her eighteen month old child. She had run away from the home for adolescent mothers she was living in. Says she doesn't like it there and wants to go back to her parents' house. However they live in Arequipa which is a long way from here and I'm not even sure they know where she is right now.

She has a beautiful daughter and looks after her more or less competently, though I did have to ask her not to leave the kid alone at an open window, which has bars to keep us all in place, but kid could easily have fallen in between bars and window. But you can't really blame the girl. The place is not fit for any children never mind a child that age. One can't blame the police either as they are stuck with the situation, so let's hope the courts sort something out quickly.

One of the boys, Roel, is thirteen years old but looks the size of an eight year old. He tells me that his mother could no longer cope looking after him as she has eight other younger kids at home, so he's had to leave . He says she sent him off in a car with a complete stranger. They live out in the countryside, many miles from Cusco. Whether to believe this story is another matter of course, but it will have some elements of truth. He seemed relieved to be in La Policia.

Then there was Marco who was waiting for his mum to come for him, and had been waiting anxiously all morning. By midday there was no sign of her and this twelve year old boy was very very upset and in floods of tears. Tried to comfort him as best I could but what do you say to a boy who thinks his mum is not going to come for him? It's not easy I tell you. I tried to suggest that maybe she was not well and unable to make the trip , but he was not for accepting that. I gave him a hug and told him I would be back for sure to see him tomorrow morning. But I'm no substitute.

And there's Jose who speaks Quechua and was trying to teach me some, at my suggestion of course. All these kids are bright and intelligent, well most of them anyway, let's not exaggerate, and once they get going they are happy to draw and write for me, and read out loud from the lovely book of poetry I bought to use with them. I doubt they get much chance to read poems otherwise, and it's all poems about various aspects of Peruvian life and history so it's like a wee lesson for them, and they don't even realise it. So all good there.

The poems are in alphabetical order so I ask them to choose a letter and then they read that poem. Today Jose got to read a poem called Quipus, which is all about the Inca counting and recording system, which is like an abacus but different if you know what I mean. The Incas had no written language of course which is why their history is lost to us to a large extent. Jose had never heard of it, despite his knowledge of Quechua, so I was quite quietly pleased with that. For sure he learnt something new today. As well as the poems the book is beautifully illustrated so he was able to see what Quipus look like.

Better get off to bed now if I'm to be there for Marco in the morning.