Amazingly enough I'm getting near the end of my time in Peru and I will soon have to start preparing to leave. Last week was a week of mixed emotions, high and low, painful and joyous, happy and sad.
One of my main ambitions on this trip was to introduce Heber and family to my good friend Flor, which finally happened this past weekend. I'm so pleased that they've met and I know that Flor will be a significant help to them over the years. They all loved each other and she now calls them her new family, and of course she just loves little Gareth, as would you all if you were ever to meet him. She understands well their situation and she has years of experience of working with young people and knows what problems they confront in their daily lives. She has already arranged to visit them in their home and will continue to do so.
Heber and Pamela were both very impressed with her and are glad that she will be a part of their lives. It is of course one of the best things that has happened as far as I'm concerned. It is such a relief to know that Flor will be there for them when I'm no longer around, to support them and care for them. I can't think of a better person than Flor for them to have in their lives.
Thank you Flor for all you have done for me over the years that I've been coming to Lima and all the support and advice you've given me and for teaching me so much about the lives of the poorest children and families in Lima. I hope you are able to carry on working with them for many years to come. You are a truly inspirational person and I know that Heber and Pamela will benefit enormously from having you in their lives.
Flor's daughter Valeria, came along with her on Saturday. In case anyone is wondering Flor does not speak English but her daughter does and will be able to translate this post for her. I've met Valeria when she was younger, couple of times, and she is a lovely young person, now about to finish school and go onto university. She will be going to MALI in the New Year to study art part time before she goes off to uni. So good luck with that Valeria and don't forget that you promised to let me see some of your paintings.
We all spent the afternoon together. There are some photos in my Facebook page. Flor and Valeria eventually had to leave. It was very sad parting. I'm afraid to have to report that we both cried in the street outside Cafe Literario where I'd taken them for a last coffee or juice. I started it unfortunately. A very sad parting indeed but we will keep in touch over the old internet thing. So many ways now of doing so. My big brother Coinneach phones me every morning for free on WhatsApp just to make sure I've survived the night and not gone hypo.
I then spent the rest of the weekend with Heber and co. Mostly in my apartment which they love. I went out for an hour and a bit on Saturday night and left them on their own to give them some time together in a comfortable place, which they're not used to. The only thing I don't let them use is my MacBook as would be a bit lost if it broke down and one never knows what sites they may visit to download stuff. I wouldn't risk a virus on this machine.
Parting from them on Sunday evening was one of the most harrowing experiences of my life. I've had many difficult situations to cope with over the past three and a half years but nothing compared to this. I don't know if you've ever had to leave someone you love, knowing you will never see them again? It is a painful experience, almost beyond endurance, which I've not yet got over. Or should that be gotten over?
I've tried to make it less painful for them by promising to come back next year to see them if it's at all possible. I know I've to go back to start more chemotherapy in a couple of weeks, so we will see how that works out. I don't know what Dr McLean will say when I tell her I want to come back here. After all she did describe this as a window of opportunity which I should take advantage of. Maybe there will be another one.
We went and did some shopping and bought them some things they need for themselves and Gareth and I gave them their Xmas present. I hope they will be able to have a turkey which will be cooked in a communal oven, and I think Heber's aunt and her young daughter will come along too. She's the aunt he lived with before moving in with Pamela and her dad and her brother. I've done my best for them.
I could tell that Heber was putting off our parting for as long as possible, as was I, but eventually I had to say lets do this horrible thing. And of course the tears weren't far away. Heber had his wee boy in his arms and kept holding on to me too in a big embrace. He then asked Pamela to join in. This was in the street waiting for their bus. Not sure what the locals thought. All things must pass. Eventually a bus arrived, Heber having declined the first one, saying it was full, and off they went.
I've not got over it since. I didn't sleep the night before and hardly slept last night. It sometimes feels as if this is the beginning of the end of my life.
He loved the graphic novel I bought for him. They sat on the couch together once Gareth was asleep and he read out loud the first story to her. She helped him along the way. I was very proud of my boy.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Friday, October 21, 2016
Casa de la Literatura Peruana, and Allen Ginsberg
I visited Casa de la Literatura Peruana last week for the first time. It's located in what used to be Lima's main railway station, Estación Desamparados and was opened in 2009 as a literary museum. It's quite magnificent and retains many original features of the old station, including trains passing by outside and a train which goes eight times a year on a tourist route of twelve hours to Huancayo. I wish I was fit enough to go, or that I'd known about it on my previous visits to this beautiful country.
I spent two hours there, which is about my time limit for being on my feet without a break, apart from a sit down from time to time, seats being scarce. I wish I could have spent more time there so I could read more of the displays, which are obviously in Spanish, and hence take longer for me to read, and discover more Peruvian poets.
There were not a lot of visitors there, apart from a large group of Peruvian school children being shown around by their teachers. The place is part of the Education Ministry, so it's good to know that future generations of Peru's young people will have this magnificent facility to enjoy and benefit from. Let's hope so anyway. I would take Pamela and co but it's a little difficult with Gareth and my slowness.
The next day the local paper El Comercio had an article about it, which seemed like a happy coincidence for me. I discovered that my old pal Allen Ginsberg had visited Peru in 1960 and spent some time here and of course wrote some poems. He met Martín Adán, an important Peruvian poet, outside Estación Desamparados, whilst he was here and they spent the day together. I didn't see anything about Ginsberg when I was there last week but maybe I missed it.
He wrote a poem for Adán called "To an Old Poet in Peru" ( A un viejo poet en el Peru). I was planning to quote the whole poem here but that might be too much so will give you a few lines only, and then you can search for it online.
And you saluted my eyes
With your anisetto voice
Mistakenly thinking I was genial
for a youth
(my rock and roll is the motion of an
angel flying in a modern city
your obscure shuffle is the motion
of a seraphim that has lost its wings)
I kiss you on your fat cheek (once more tomorrow
Under the stupendous Desamparados clock)
I'm very pleased to have discovered this poem and to have stood under the stupendous Desamparados clock. He also wrote a poem called (I think) May 26, 1960 , which describes a visit to a turkish bath and which I will not quote here as it's quite explicit in a Ginsbergian way, and there may be children reading this in years to come, or others of a sensitive disposition. These poems were translated into Spanish by Antonio Cisneros. They were first published in USA in a collection called Reality Sandwiches.
Must go, I'm going to MALI.
I spent two hours there, which is about my time limit for being on my feet without a break, apart from a sit down from time to time, seats being scarce. I wish I could have spent more time there so I could read more of the displays, which are obviously in Spanish, and hence take longer for me to read, and discover more Peruvian poets.
There were not a lot of visitors there, apart from a large group of Peruvian school children being shown around by their teachers. The place is part of the Education Ministry, so it's good to know that future generations of Peru's young people will have this magnificent facility to enjoy and benefit from. Let's hope so anyway. I would take Pamela and co but it's a little difficult with Gareth and my slowness.
The next day the local paper El Comercio had an article about it, which seemed like a happy coincidence for me. I discovered that my old pal Allen Ginsberg had visited Peru in 1960 and spent some time here and of course wrote some poems. He met Martín Adán, an important Peruvian poet, outside Estación Desamparados, whilst he was here and they spent the day together. I didn't see anything about Ginsberg when I was there last week but maybe I missed it.
He wrote a poem for Adán called "To an Old Poet in Peru" ( A un viejo poet en el Peru). I was planning to quote the whole poem here but that might be too much so will give you a few lines only, and then you can search for it online.
And you saluted my eyes
With your anisetto voice
Mistakenly thinking I was genial
for a youth
(my rock and roll is the motion of an
angel flying in a modern city
your obscure shuffle is the motion
of a seraphim that has lost its wings)
I kiss you on your fat cheek (once more tomorrow
Under the stupendous Desamparados clock)
I'm very pleased to have discovered this poem and to have stood under the stupendous Desamparados clock. He also wrote a poem called (I think) May 26, 1960 , which describes a visit to a turkish bath and which I will not quote here as it's quite explicit in a Ginsbergian way, and there may be children reading this in years to come, or others of a sensitive disposition. These poems were translated into Spanish by Antonio Cisneros. They were first published in USA in a collection called Reality Sandwiches.
Must go, I'm going to MALI.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
Donkeys, Dylan and more
I'm really very fond of Pamela and wish I had more time to spend with her and Heber and Gareth, who is such a beautiful and happy boy. But at least now I've got to know her and Gareth and have an idea of how their lives are together and will be in the future. For this I am very grateful. It will mean so much to me in the coming years (hopefully it will be years, let's not go into that right now) as I approach the end of my life.
I am so impressed that she loves books and enjoys reading just as much as I do. Well done Heber for telling me, and for remembering how much books mean to me. Maybe some day he will catch up on his lost education and develop a love of books for himself. Meantime it's good that he encourages Pamela and in turn they will pass on to Gareth a love for books and who knows, one day, he will become a famous writer himself. Right now he likes to eat books and tear them up. I've bought him one but he won't get it into his grasping hands on his own, they will read it with him, though I guess it's maybe bit early, but never too young to start as they say.
I was in a bookshop with them the other day and was debating with myself what to buy her. It eventually came down to a choice between two books by Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera or One Hundred Years of Solitude. They are both equally good books and I wouldn't want to say that one is better than the other, I wonder which one Gabo liked best? I chose the former as I think it's a little easier to follow in terms of plot and multiplicity of characters. She hadn't read it. However I was not much surprised to hear that she had read Chronicle of a Death Foretold ( Crónica de una muerte anunciada), which I think she was introduced to by her school or one of her teachers. I saw a dramatised version of it here in Lima some years ago and the book is an excellent little read. So she knows the author, which is great as he is one of the best and writes in Spanish.
She tells me that her parents were born and brought up in the Puno region of Peru, beside Lake Titicaca, in the Altiplano, and came to live in Lima to improve their living standards, as did so many others, although many of them also left to get away from the deadly activities of the Shining Path organisation. I think she's visited there one time and hopes to go back to see her grandfather who still lives there, along with some uncles and aunts.
Her grandfather has a little farm which he still keeps going, with some forty sheep, four cows, two bulls and other animals. So a bit like a croft I guess. But bigger maybe. He also has a donkey which he needs to get about his farm and which he rides into town every so often for supplies.. and he's going blind. I can't help but think of RLS on his donkey in the Cévennes, one of the first examples of travel writing and worth an hour or two of your time, or Sancho Panza on his donkey with Don Quixote. And of course Jesus himself rode into town on a donkey, if memory serves. I would love to see this old man on his donkey, but probably won't manage that now, so I just have to feel close to him through Pamela.
Her father went to visit him last week to try to persuade him to move into Lima so he can look after him, but the old man refused to come as he doesn't want to leave his animals and he can hardly ride his donkey up los cerros or even less into Lima. Maybe if he does go blind he will have to accept the offer.
I often go to a little cafe nearby called Cafe Literario. The coffee is good and the staff are friendly and chatty. I was sitting there reading a review of a book about Puno called La Batalla por Puno, which is looking at the history of that part of Peru and why it's politically and socially different from the rest of the country. I wish my Spanish was up to a better understanding of the book and the review.
I was most surprised to find in the middle of this review four long paragraphs about the Dylan song All Along the Watchtower which the author claims Dylan could more or less have been speaking about the Altiplano, and that the song can be used to understand the book. " ya pensaba que este libro podía ser observado, evaluado y comprendido con la ayuda de una gran canción suya: All along the Watchtower". He goes on to do and to explain why the song is appropriate and says the theme of the song is the possibility of liberation. Couldn't agree more.
The thing is that I was reading this the day before Dylan was awarded his Nobel Prize and had asked Miguel who works in the cafe what he thought about it. He read the article with me and was quite impressed by my Spanish, he himself being fluent in English. Turns out that he is also a big Dylan fan, so I was very pleased to have spoken to him. Naturally I called in the next day to say hello and ask him what he thought of the award. Like me he was delighted.
I am so impressed that she loves books and enjoys reading just as much as I do. Well done Heber for telling me, and for remembering how much books mean to me. Maybe some day he will catch up on his lost education and develop a love of books for himself. Meantime it's good that he encourages Pamela and in turn they will pass on to Gareth a love for books and who knows, one day, he will become a famous writer himself. Right now he likes to eat books and tear them up. I've bought him one but he won't get it into his grasping hands on his own, they will read it with him, though I guess it's maybe bit early, but never too young to start as they say.
I was in a bookshop with them the other day and was debating with myself what to buy her. It eventually came down to a choice between two books by Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera or One Hundred Years of Solitude. They are both equally good books and I wouldn't want to say that one is better than the other, I wonder which one Gabo liked best? I chose the former as I think it's a little easier to follow in terms of plot and multiplicity of characters. She hadn't read it. However I was not much surprised to hear that she had read Chronicle of a Death Foretold ( Crónica de una muerte anunciada), which I think she was introduced to by her school or one of her teachers. I saw a dramatised version of it here in Lima some years ago and the book is an excellent little read. So she knows the author, which is great as he is one of the best and writes in Spanish.
She tells me that her parents were born and brought up in the Puno region of Peru, beside Lake Titicaca, in the Altiplano, and came to live in Lima to improve their living standards, as did so many others, although many of them also left to get away from the deadly activities of the Shining Path organisation. I think she's visited there one time and hopes to go back to see her grandfather who still lives there, along with some uncles and aunts.
Her grandfather has a little farm which he still keeps going, with some forty sheep, four cows, two bulls and other animals. So a bit like a croft I guess. But bigger maybe. He also has a donkey which he needs to get about his farm and which he rides into town every so often for supplies.. and he's going blind. I can't help but think of RLS on his donkey in the Cévennes, one of the first examples of travel writing and worth an hour or two of your time, or Sancho Panza on his donkey with Don Quixote. And of course Jesus himself rode into town on a donkey, if memory serves. I would love to see this old man on his donkey, but probably won't manage that now, so I just have to feel close to him through Pamela.
Her father went to visit him last week to try to persuade him to move into Lima so he can look after him, but the old man refused to come as he doesn't want to leave his animals and he can hardly ride his donkey up los cerros or even less into Lima. Maybe if he does go blind he will have to accept the offer.
I often go to a little cafe nearby called Cafe Literario. The coffee is good and the staff are friendly and chatty. I was sitting there reading a review of a book about Puno called La Batalla por Puno, which is looking at the history of that part of Peru and why it's politically and socially different from the rest of the country. I wish my Spanish was up to a better understanding of the book and the review.
I was most surprised to find in the middle of this review four long paragraphs about the Dylan song All Along the Watchtower which the author claims Dylan could more or less have been speaking about the Altiplano, and that the song can be used to understand the book. " ya pensaba que este libro podía ser observado, evaluado y comprendido con la ayuda de una gran canción suya: All along the Watchtower". He goes on to do and to explain why the song is appropriate and says the theme of the song is the possibility of liberation. Couldn't agree more.
The thing is that I was reading this the day before Dylan was awarded his Nobel Prize and had asked Miguel who works in the cafe what he thought about it. He read the article with me and was quite impressed by my Spanish, he himself being fluent in English. Turns out that he is also a big Dylan fan, so I was very pleased to have spoken to him. Naturally I called in the next day to say hello and ask him what he thought of the award. Like me he was delighted.
Monday, October 10, 2016
Taxistas occupy the streets in Villa Maria
Heber and his moto taxista pals work incredibly hard and get little or no respect for their work. He tells me that he has to pay 35 soles a day for the hire of his moto taxi (one sol is about 24 UK pence or 29 US cents) and 10 soles a day for fuel. So he needs to make 45 soles a day before he starts. Each passenger is one sol, so he needs 45 passengers at least before he begins to provide for his family. He aims to make at least 45 soles on top to have enough for their daily needs. So he must pick up at least 90 passengers every day to make a living. He sometimes works longer hours if there is something they need to buy for Gareth.
And the competition for passengers is extreme. I must admit that at times the taxistas used to annoy me when I was in Villa Maria. They ride like crazy guys with seemingly no concern for their own safety or other road users. Heber says they need to do it to get the passengers they need. They dive across the road to beat each other to another fare, crossing through the traffic in both directions with gay abandon. Or maybe not quite. He has had a couple of bad accidents already and written off one taxi. Car drivers, of course, pay no attention to them and are careless of their safety. I used to wonder how there were not more accidents, fatal or otherwise. Pedestrians lives are also at risk. At least this pedestrian thought so.
And then the roads are terrible or non existent in places, " if you'd seen these roads before they were made you'd lift up your hands and bless General Wade" comes to mind. Although they compete fiercely for work, the taxistas support each other and keep an eye out for their pals. Heber says he prefers to be friends with the older guys as many of the younger ones have criminal tendencies, like robbing their passengers. Oh dear.
Last week they organised a protest in the streets of Villa Maria. They have been asking and pressing the mayor (alcalde) of Villa Maria to fix the roads up the mountain or to build some where they don't exist. So they blocked the main road outside local authority (municipalidad) HQ with their moto taxis. There were about a thousand of them protesting and they stopped the traffic for five hours.
I can't tell you how proud this makes me feel, that they understand the need for self activity, to take responsibility for their lives and to take to the streets when all else fails. When asking and pleading no longer works. I'm very proud of my boy and I hope some of the things I taught him will stay with him for the rest of his life. I think he knows how pleased I am to hear this. Apart from bringing me Gareth and Pamela this is some of the best news he's brought me.
We spoke about what might happen now. He knows not to trust the mayor or any other politician. I think there may be problems with the mayor out there in Villa Maria, apart from the usual stuff, so I guess the taxistas will be low on his list of priorities. I've told him they may need to take to the streets many times to get their roads. Of course he is also, along with everyone else up the mountainside, waiting for the new president to bring them water! Some hope.
Anyway their protests were good news for me and made my weekend. Well I think really Gareth made my weekend, but a little exaggeration is allowed, surely at a time like this. I'm not quite sure how they managed to organise their protest, as they don't have a trade union, and are really self employed. I think maybe it was done through the companies they hire the motos from. Maybe some day they will begin to organise their own union and get better organised. Meantime it's a good start. Long live the revolution!
And the competition for passengers is extreme. I must admit that at times the taxistas used to annoy me when I was in Villa Maria. They ride like crazy guys with seemingly no concern for their own safety or other road users. Heber says they need to do it to get the passengers they need. They dive across the road to beat each other to another fare, crossing through the traffic in both directions with gay abandon. Or maybe not quite. He has had a couple of bad accidents already and written off one taxi. Car drivers, of course, pay no attention to them and are careless of their safety. I used to wonder how there were not more accidents, fatal or otherwise. Pedestrians lives are also at risk. At least this pedestrian thought so.
And then the roads are terrible or non existent in places, " if you'd seen these roads before they were made you'd lift up your hands and bless General Wade" comes to mind. Although they compete fiercely for work, the taxistas support each other and keep an eye out for their pals. Heber says he prefers to be friends with the older guys as many of the younger ones have criminal tendencies, like robbing their passengers. Oh dear.
Last week they organised a protest in the streets of Villa Maria. They have been asking and pressing the mayor (alcalde) of Villa Maria to fix the roads up the mountain or to build some where they don't exist. So they blocked the main road outside local authority (municipalidad) HQ with their moto taxis. There were about a thousand of them protesting and they stopped the traffic for five hours.
I can't tell you how proud this makes me feel, that they understand the need for self activity, to take responsibility for their lives and to take to the streets when all else fails. When asking and pleading no longer works. I'm very proud of my boy and I hope some of the things I taught him will stay with him for the rest of his life. I think he knows how pleased I am to hear this. Apart from bringing me Gareth and Pamela this is some of the best news he's brought me.
We spoke about what might happen now. He knows not to trust the mayor or any other politician. I think there may be problems with the mayor out there in Villa Maria, apart from the usual stuff, so I guess the taxistas will be low on his list of priorities. I've told him they may need to take to the streets many times to get their roads. Of course he is also, along with everyone else up the mountainside, waiting for the new president to bring them water! Some hope.
Anyway their protests were good news for me and made my weekend. Well I think really Gareth made my weekend, but a little exaggeration is allowed, surely at a time like this. I'm not quite sure how they managed to organise their protest, as they don't have a trade union, and are really self employed. I think maybe it was done through the companies they hire the motos from. Maybe some day they will begin to organise their own union and get better organised. Meantime it's a good start. Long live the revolution!
Friday, October 07, 2016
"El Fútbol de Donald"
I had lunch with Flor earlier this week. She is the person who looked after me when I was working in Villa Maria del Triunfo and other places and who organised everything for me. She is a good friend and brilliant worker with all the kids of Villa Maria and elsewhere. She means the world to me. She brought me up to date on what's been happening over the past four years, since I was last here.
She has known about my cancer since soon after I was diagnosed but I hadn't told her quite how bad it is. As we sat there in the cafe and I explained to her that this would be my last trip to Peru she began to cry. I had to hold her hand to comfort her. I hadn't realised quite how much she cares for me or even loves me. In the best way possible.
I guess I have become quite strong mentally over the past few years and usually avoid tears in most situations except maybe when a movie moves me, which has always been the case. The only person I cry with now is my brother Coinneach, and I'm sure he will agree I do it less now than I used to.
Well anyway we got over that piece of news and actually eventually we had a good laugh about the things we've done and seen together. Things which will be in my memory till the end.
These kids have grown up now. They're all four years older. Some have moved on, one of the girls is training to be a cosmetician, others are still in education of some sort and the younger ones are still around. Flor would like me to go out to Villa Maria to see them all. She has offered to arrange a re-union party with as many as she can contact. I doubt if I will have the stamina to go out there. It is not an easy journey at the best of times, but in my present precarious condition I doubt I can handle it.
She has offered to have the party at her house, which would be easier, but it's actually further out than Villa Maria, in Villa el Salvador, where I once put on another party. So we've decided, or should I say Flor has decided that, if she can manage it, she will organise to bring them into Miraflores on the bus so we can have a party here. Don't quite know how this will work out.
I bought a football for the boys and girls of Villa Maria, last time I was there. Flor tells me that they became very possessive of the football and it became know as el fútbol de Donald. They would only allow the boys and girls who were attending at the time I bought it to play with it. This is very touching and moving for me, though not to tears, and I feel proud to know that these kids keep me in their memory.
It's also hard to believe that I played football with them four years ago. Look at me now. But I made it back, so that's something. Flor has never met Heber and family. She would like to meet them which will be good as I'm sure she will do whatever she can to support them.
I'm going to bed now as Gareth will be here soon.
She has known about my cancer since soon after I was diagnosed but I hadn't told her quite how bad it is. As we sat there in the cafe and I explained to her that this would be my last trip to Peru she began to cry. I had to hold her hand to comfort her. I hadn't realised quite how much she cares for me or even loves me. In the best way possible.
I guess I have become quite strong mentally over the past few years and usually avoid tears in most situations except maybe when a movie moves me, which has always been the case. The only person I cry with now is my brother Coinneach, and I'm sure he will agree I do it less now than I used to.
Well anyway we got over that piece of news and actually eventually we had a good laugh about the things we've done and seen together. Things which will be in my memory till the end.
These kids have grown up now. They're all four years older. Some have moved on, one of the girls is training to be a cosmetician, others are still in education of some sort and the younger ones are still around. Flor would like me to go out to Villa Maria to see them all. She has offered to arrange a re-union party with as many as she can contact. I doubt if I will have the stamina to go out there. It is not an easy journey at the best of times, but in my present precarious condition I doubt I can handle it.
She has offered to have the party at her house, which would be easier, but it's actually further out than Villa Maria, in Villa el Salvador, where I once put on another party. So we've decided, or should I say Flor has decided that, if she can manage it, she will organise to bring them into Miraflores on the bus so we can have a party here. Don't quite know how this will work out.
I bought a football for the boys and girls of Villa Maria, last time I was there. Flor tells me that they became very possessive of the football and it became know as el fútbol de Donald. They would only allow the boys and girls who were attending at the time I bought it to play with it. This is very touching and moving for me, though not to tears, and I feel proud to know that these kids keep me in their memory.
It's also hard to believe that I played football with them four years ago. Look at me now. But I made it back, so that's something. Flor has never met Heber and family. She would like to meet them which will be good as I'm sure she will do whatever she can to support them.
I'm going to bed now as Gareth will be here soon.
Thursday, October 06, 2016
Poverty
I had Heber and co staying over the weekend. I was exhausted but very happy to have them here. I told them to help themselves to whatever they needed. They proceeded to eat me out of house and home. Gareth is a beautiful boy who seems to have taken to me and is very glad for me to hold him and look after him. He does look at me sometimes as if to say who is this guy? He doesn't often get to meet bald, white, pale faced old guys. It's good for him.
Over the weekend I got to know more about their living conditions which are worse than I had imagined. They live in Villa Maria del Triunfo with her father and brother, who is a year older than Heber. They live in Los Cerros which is a bit like favelas in Brazil but not exactly. Los Cerros are small mountains, which surround Lima and where over the years poor people who arrived from the countryside have built their homes. I don't know how many there are around Lima, but probably millions.
There are few facilities such as roads or piped water to the houses or sewage systems. The governments make promises to improve things when they're up for election and then proceed to forget their promises. It is beyond my understanding why these people don't lead a revolution but not surprising that the fascist parties have so much success. They organise heavily in Los Cerros and went very close to winning the presidency this year.
The houses are built by the people themselves. The ultimate in self build I suppose. I call them houses but they are little more than shacks, precariously built up and down the mountainsides. Their house is quite high up the mountain. It is built of bricks made from earth and water as they cannot afford cement. The walls are permanently prone to collapse from any passing slight disturbance. One of the walls fell out recently.
There are no floors just the dried earth beneath their feet. Which means that of course Gareth cannot crawl about on the floor. And like I said they have no water piped in. A tanker arrives twice a week to deliver water to a communal tank. I think it must be a very small tanker or lorry with tanks on board. Sometimes my Spanish fails me or my disbelief overtakes my poor brain. Their waste matter is taken away as far as I can make out. I didn't like to be too nosey about this aspect of their lives.
At night it gets very cold up on their mountain and sometimes it snows. Which amazed me as I didn't think they got snow in these parts. I fear the consequences of even the mildest of earthquakes or tremors as the least of them will flatten these shacks.
Pamela washes clothes by hand every day to keep up with the washing and cleans the house every day, but I find it hard to understand how any cleaning is possible. They are both immaculately clean and well dressed as is Gareth. He is very well cared for. Heber still wears a shirt I bought for him a few years ago.
Gareth goes to a centre for babies and young children run by INABIF which is a government programme for family welfare. He goes there every day Monday to Friday where he gets play and development activities as well as being fed. Pamela takes him there at 8 am every day and collects him at 5 pm. This costs them 3 soles a day which is a little under one dollar.
Heber goes to work with his moto taxi every day. A very dangerous activity with many other drivers competing for the custom of people going up and down the mountain. He works all day, sometimes as much as fifteen hours, to earn enough each day to meet their needs for food and Gareth and anything else. There are little combis venturing up too but mostly its the moto taxis. Heber wants to take me up the mountain to see his house but I don't think I'm well enough to do that.
They hope to be able to build their own home higher up the mountainside and have a piece of the mountain in mind for doing so. Heber helped his father in law to build a one room extension on his house for him and Pamela and he says he has an uncle who will help.
I was on the phone to him the other day and told him how much I liked Pamela. He told me he was very fortunate to have her in his life. I think he is but also that she is fortunate to have him. He has matured so much since I saw him last. The new responsibilities in his life are taken very seriously by him. He has never really had anyone before in his life who cared for who or for whom he could care. Now that he has it has changed him into a responsible, young adult. Not that he was irresponsible as before but he certainly did not have much love in his life.
His grandmother has come down from Cusco to see the wee fellow but neither his mum nor his dad have bothered to come to meet their grandchild. Yet more rejection. I know it saddens him but he tries to make excuses for why they don't come. Neither do they phone or provide any financial support. His father could if he wished.
I've called this post Poverty, but realise there are people around the world living in worse conditions, and some like those in Aleppo being bombed to death or others living in terrible refugee camps in France or Greece and maybe I should be grateful for what Heber and his family have in their lives. I am of course. They are certainly very happy and determined to make a success of their lives. But I'm keeping the title.
Their fortitude is commendable to say the least. Next time we feel like complaining about our slow broadband speeds or something else equally trivial please think of my boy and his family up there on their mountainside.
I will post a photo of Los Cerros which I took last time I was in Villa Maria.
Over the weekend I got to know more about their living conditions which are worse than I had imagined. They live in Villa Maria del Triunfo with her father and brother, who is a year older than Heber. They live in Los Cerros which is a bit like favelas in Brazil but not exactly. Los Cerros are small mountains, which surround Lima and where over the years poor people who arrived from the countryside have built their homes. I don't know how many there are around Lima, but probably millions.
There are few facilities such as roads or piped water to the houses or sewage systems. The governments make promises to improve things when they're up for election and then proceed to forget their promises. It is beyond my understanding why these people don't lead a revolution but not surprising that the fascist parties have so much success. They organise heavily in Los Cerros and went very close to winning the presidency this year.
The houses are built by the people themselves. The ultimate in self build I suppose. I call them houses but they are little more than shacks, precariously built up and down the mountainsides. Their house is quite high up the mountain. It is built of bricks made from earth and water as they cannot afford cement. The walls are permanently prone to collapse from any passing slight disturbance. One of the walls fell out recently.
There are no floors just the dried earth beneath their feet. Which means that of course Gareth cannot crawl about on the floor. And like I said they have no water piped in. A tanker arrives twice a week to deliver water to a communal tank. I think it must be a very small tanker or lorry with tanks on board. Sometimes my Spanish fails me or my disbelief overtakes my poor brain. Their waste matter is taken away as far as I can make out. I didn't like to be too nosey about this aspect of their lives.
At night it gets very cold up on their mountain and sometimes it snows. Which amazed me as I didn't think they got snow in these parts. I fear the consequences of even the mildest of earthquakes or tremors as the least of them will flatten these shacks.
Pamela washes clothes by hand every day to keep up with the washing and cleans the house every day, but I find it hard to understand how any cleaning is possible. They are both immaculately clean and well dressed as is Gareth. He is very well cared for. Heber still wears a shirt I bought for him a few years ago.
Gareth goes to a centre for babies and young children run by INABIF which is a government programme for family welfare. He goes there every day Monday to Friday where he gets play and development activities as well as being fed. Pamela takes him there at 8 am every day and collects him at 5 pm. This costs them 3 soles a day which is a little under one dollar.
Heber goes to work with his moto taxi every day. A very dangerous activity with many other drivers competing for the custom of people going up and down the mountain. He works all day, sometimes as much as fifteen hours, to earn enough each day to meet their needs for food and Gareth and anything else. There are little combis venturing up too but mostly its the moto taxis. Heber wants to take me up the mountain to see his house but I don't think I'm well enough to do that.
They hope to be able to build their own home higher up the mountainside and have a piece of the mountain in mind for doing so. Heber helped his father in law to build a one room extension on his house for him and Pamela and he says he has an uncle who will help.
I was on the phone to him the other day and told him how much I liked Pamela. He told me he was very fortunate to have her in his life. I think he is but also that she is fortunate to have him. He has matured so much since I saw him last. The new responsibilities in his life are taken very seriously by him. He has never really had anyone before in his life who cared for who or for whom he could care. Now that he has it has changed him into a responsible, young adult. Not that he was irresponsible as before but he certainly did not have much love in his life.
His grandmother has come down from Cusco to see the wee fellow but neither his mum nor his dad have bothered to come to meet their grandchild. Yet more rejection. I know it saddens him but he tries to make excuses for why they don't come. Neither do they phone or provide any financial support. His father could if he wished.
I've called this post Poverty, but realise there are people around the world living in worse conditions, and some like those in Aleppo being bombed to death or others living in terrible refugee camps in France or Greece and maybe I should be grateful for what Heber and his family have in their lives. I am of course. They are certainly very happy and determined to make a success of their lives. But I'm keeping the title.
Their fortitude is commendable to say the least. Next time we feel like complaining about our slow broadband speeds or something else equally trivial please think of my boy and his family up there on their mountainside.
I will post a photo of Los Cerros which I took last time I was in Villa Maria.
Thursday, September 29, 2016
The Divine Comedy and other reading
As most of you reading this will know books are very important in my life and continue to sustain me through some very difficult times.
My old primary school headmaster had a selection of abbreviated classics on the classroom shelves which I worked my way through. This was Tong Primary School which some of you will also remember and know well. I wonder what Old Fury would make of me sitting here in Peru writing about him. He would be delighted I'm sure. One day he asked the class if anyone knew the name of the ship in which Christopher Columbus made his first voyage. He was surprised that I should know the answer. No one else did. I was quite annoyed with him for not believing in me. The ship was called Santa Maria. He was very holy was old Cristóbal. Or so he claimed. Guided by God all the way to many killings.
Anyway I knew the answer because I had read about Columbus the night before in the brand new 10 volume , red-covered set of encyclopedias our father had bought for us some time before. The Wikipedia of the day I guess, not that very many other families round about had one. I still remember reading it and also enjoying the pictures and my hopes of visiting all of them some day. Didn't quite make all of them unfortunately.
You may well wonder why I bring this up right now, and indeed I wonder myself too. But here I am in Lima, renting an apartment in a street named after Columbus, Calle Colón, which is the Spanish version of his name, Cristóbal Colón. So life has taken me a full circle from Tong to Lima. Who would have thought?
When I was with Heber and Pamela and their wee boy Gareth at the weekend, as I was getting to know Pamela for the first time, Heber told her that I also liked to read. It turns out that Pamela is a lover of literature and an avid reader. I was even more pleased to discover that she especially likes old man Shakespeare. Especially comedies and romances. We will discuss this more hopefully this weekend. There's a Spanish version of Hamlet on in Miraflores and I would love to take her, but that might not be possible unfortunately.
But the most surprising thing of all was her love of The Divine Comedy which she told me was her favourite reading and which she was able to summarise for me. There aren't many nineteen year olds of my acquaintance who do this kind of reading. I don't even know if its taught in our schools. But it's certainly a credit to Peru's schools that they've introduced this girl to literature and turned her into a lover of books. It's an even greater achievement considering the poverty in which she was born and brought up. She must have had some brilliant teachers. So thank you whoever you are. Maybe some day she will read the recent Clive James translation, which I hope will eventually be produced in Spanish. Maybe it already has been. I shall check it out. I must let Clive know, he will be impressed.
I'm sure my good friend John L will be impressed that I'm discussing Shakespeare and Dante in a cafe here in Lima with two young people. Just keeping our honourable tradition from Caffe Nero going here, John. Mind you Pamela seems to know more about Dante than I do, but it's good to be taught by her especially in Spanish. She loves talking about it. I have to slow her down sometimes even though my Spanish has come back to me quite quickly.
That's all for now. I will add a couple of photos later. My health is as good as I could hope for.
My old primary school headmaster had a selection of abbreviated classics on the classroom shelves which I worked my way through. This was Tong Primary School which some of you will also remember and know well. I wonder what Old Fury would make of me sitting here in Peru writing about him. He would be delighted I'm sure. One day he asked the class if anyone knew the name of the ship in which Christopher Columbus made his first voyage. He was surprised that I should know the answer. No one else did. I was quite annoyed with him for not believing in me. The ship was called Santa Maria. He was very holy was old Cristóbal. Or so he claimed. Guided by God all the way to many killings.
Anyway I knew the answer because I had read about Columbus the night before in the brand new 10 volume , red-covered set of encyclopedias our father had bought for us some time before. The Wikipedia of the day I guess, not that very many other families round about had one. I still remember reading it and also enjoying the pictures and my hopes of visiting all of them some day. Didn't quite make all of them unfortunately.
You may well wonder why I bring this up right now, and indeed I wonder myself too. But here I am in Lima, renting an apartment in a street named after Columbus, Calle Colón, which is the Spanish version of his name, Cristóbal Colón. So life has taken me a full circle from Tong to Lima. Who would have thought?
When I was with Heber and Pamela and their wee boy Gareth at the weekend, as I was getting to know Pamela for the first time, Heber told her that I also liked to read. It turns out that Pamela is a lover of literature and an avid reader. I was even more pleased to discover that she especially likes old man Shakespeare. Especially comedies and romances. We will discuss this more hopefully this weekend. There's a Spanish version of Hamlet on in Miraflores and I would love to take her, but that might not be possible unfortunately.
But the most surprising thing of all was her love of The Divine Comedy which she told me was her favourite reading and which she was able to summarise for me. There aren't many nineteen year olds of my acquaintance who do this kind of reading. I don't even know if its taught in our schools. But it's certainly a credit to Peru's schools that they've introduced this girl to literature and turned her into a lover of books. It's an even greater achievement considering the poverty in which she was born and brought up. She must have had some brilliant teachers. So thank you whoever you are. Maybe some day she will read the recent Clive James translation, which I hope will eventually be produced in Spanish. Maybe it already has been. I shall check it out. I must let Clive know, he will be impressed.
I'm sure my good friend John L will be impressed that I'm discussing Shakespeare and Dante in a cafe here in Lima with two young people. Just keeping our honourable tradition from Caffe Nero going here, John. Mind you Pamela seems to know more about Dante than I do, but it's good to be taught by her especially in Spanish. She loves talking about it. I have to slow her down sometimes even though my Spanish has come back to me quite quickly.
That's all for now. I will add a couple of photos later. My health is as good as I could hope for.
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Meeting Gareth for first time
Well here I am in Peru at long last. A distant dream for the past three years and more. I remember asking Mr Speake before he operated on me in late 2013, whether or not I would ever get back and him telling me that he would have me back in Peru within a year. It's taken a little bit longer than he thought but thanks to him and Dr McLean I have survived and here I am just as he said. I will have to have a word with him about his timings. But I plan to make the most of it.
My principle reason for being here is to spend time with Heber and Pamela and their son Gareth, who needless to say is a beautiful wee fellow an seems to like me just as much as his dad does. That the boy I knew all those years ago in La Policia de la Familia and in various orphanages in Cusco is now a father himself here in Lima is a matter of wonderment and delight. Despite all the obstacles placed in his way by so many people, despite the many people who didn't believe in him, he has grown up to be a delightful young man and a huge credit to himself and his determination to be a good person and succeed in life.
I spent the day with them yesterday. They make a lovely couple and obviously very much in love. Heber is such a kind person and in Pamela he has found a real soulmate. They are loving parents for Gareth and I have no doubt about their ability to give him a good life even though they are so young themselves. Pamela is 19 years of age. I understand now why Heber didn't want me to meet his girlfriend four years ago!
I've managed to explain my situation health wise to them without causing undue distress, but they are both intelligent young people and were both quite upset. I've left a slight possibility open for a return visit next year as I'm not quite ready to say the worst to them - or to myself for that matter.
Being with them yesterday and spending time with Gareth totally justifies my decision to come here even if I were not able to do anything else. Though I will of course.
They came round to my apartment for a couple of hours. A few minutes after I'd invited them and told them a bit more about my health, and that I'm here for six weeks only, Pamela asked if they could spend every weekend with me. How could I refuse such a beautiful girl. I walked them to their bus after we'd eaten and I noticed that Pamela was crying when I gave her a cuddle.
I love them.
My principle reason for being here is to spend time with Heber and Pamela and their son Gareth, who needless to say is a beautiful wee fellow an seems to like me just as much as his dad does. That the boy I knew all those years ago in La Policia de la Familia and in various orphanages in Cusco is now a father himself here in Lima is a matter of wonderment and delight. Despite all the obstacles placed in his way by so many people, despite the many people who didn't believe in him, he has grown up to be a delightful young man and a huge credit to himself and his determination to be a good person and succeed in life.
I spent the day with them yesterday. They make a lovely couple and obviously very much in love. Heber is such a kind person and in Pamela he has found a real soulmate. They are loving parents for Gareth and I have no doubt about their ability to give him a good life even though they are so young themselves. Pamela is 19 years of age. I understand now why Heber didn't want me to meet his girlfriend four years ago!
I've managed to explain my situation health wise to them without causing undue distress, but they are both intelligent young people and were both quite upset. I've left a slight possibility open for a return visit next year as I'm not quite ready to say the worst to them - or to myself for that matter.
Being with them yesterday and spending time with Gareth totally justifies my decision to come here even if I were not able to do anything else. Though I will of course.
They came round to my apartment for a couple of hours. A few minutes after I'd invited them and told them a bit more about my health, and that I'm here for six weeks only, Pamela asked if they could spend every weekend with me. How could I refuse such a beautiful girl. I walked them to their bus after we'd eaten and I noticed that Pamela was crying when I gave her a cuddle.
I love them.
Wednesday, September 07, 2016
Tuesday, September 06, 2016
A baby boy is born in Lima on Xmas Eve
Those of you who have been reading my blog over the years will know a little bit about Heber whom I met with his brother Robin when they were being held by the police in a police station in Cusco where I was working. They were taken in for being street kids and doing shoe shine in the main square, La Plaza de Armas, which the mayor didn't much like as the claimed it upset the tourists. Crap of course but the cops did regular round ups and I saw the same boys back and forth at the police station. Some of the boys were, of course, a bit more naughty than being shoe shine boys but the worst they seemed to be guilty of was a bit of shop lifting or picking the pockets of careless tourists.
Anyway I got to know the boys really well and saw them every year I visited Cusco, sometimes twice a year. I was with them the day their mother/grandmother came to tell them that she would not be taking them back again. She of course had her reasons for this which the boys didn't or couldn't understand, but we mustn't be hard on her. They had spent the day waiting for her and, as one can imagine were devastated by the betrayal, as they saw it. I had to comfort them as best I could. After that they were in a couple of children's home but their restless spirits never allowed them to settle.
I kept in touch with them in their various wanderings and saw them every year. Eventually Heber moved to Lima to live with an aunt there in Villa Maria where I was working. I carried on meeting him in Lima and doing my best to support him. He came to my work in Villa Maria but the kids there were not his age group so he only came the once. I saw him most weeks I was in Lima over the last two years there, shopping with him and taking him for meals, which he loved. He told me he had a girl friend called Pamela but I didn't get to meet her. I last saw him in November 2012 when I last visited Peru. But we've kept in touch online since then with some gaps when he disappeared. He is now 22 years old.
In January this year Pamela began chatting with me online and told me she knew all about me and how much Heber loved me and that she was his wife; she then sent me a photo of a baby and told me that it was of their son, Alexiz Gareth, who was born on 24 December 2015. Heber then came in - he'd been at work driving a moto taxi, a very dangerous activity which I know having taken a ride in one in Villa Maria - we spoke on the phone for a while, and he brought me up to date on his life. I realised how my Spanish has become somewhat rusty, which I guess is inevitable given it's now four years since I was last in Peru.
They are living with Pamela's mum and dad in Villa Maria, who seem to be very good to them, though I don't imagine they have much themselves, living as they do in Villa Maria, which is essentially a shanty town built in the hills above Lima. It's their version of a favela, of which there are many in Lima. Millions of people live in them. I'm happy for Heber as he now has a family to be part of so I'm hoping it continues that way for him.
He means the world to me and I am very fond of him, as I know he is of me. He knows I have cancer but I've not yet told him that I'm unlikely to recover from it. I'm not looking forward to having that conversation with him. My consultant says I have to tell him the truth, but she doesn't say what that truth might be. And of course I will tell him the truth painful as it may be for both of us.
I reminded him how we had sat in a cafe in Lima and he told me that he was going to call his first son Donald. He said he did remember but that he will now definitely call his next son Donald. I hope to live long enough to see that happen. Not that I think them having another baby so young is a very good idea.
That's his story brought up to date in so far as I know it. I'm really looking forward to seeing him again and meeting his child and wife. Incredible that the wee boy I held in my arms, as his mother walked out on him in that police station in Cusco all these years ago is now a father himself. I am very proud of him and of myself for continuing to believe in him and sticking by him as so many left him to fend for himself. He's lost a huge part of his education over the years and this will hold him back. I don't know that there is much can be done about that now, but we will talk about it. I'm pleased to hear from him that Pamela is still in education and he looks after the boy when she is at college.
Is it not amazing that Heber and Pamela had a wee boy on 24 December and a few weeks later Kieran and Kerry had their wee girl on 30 January? As my own life draws to an end (slowly I hasten to add) it makes me very happy to know that a wee boy in Lima and a wee girl in Edinburgh will grow up to know all about me and may benefit from my having met and loved their parents.
That's all for now. I will post some pics on my blog of the wee Peruvian lad soon.
Anyway I got to know the boys really well and saw them every year I visited Cusco, sometimes twice a year. I was with them the day their mother/grandmother came to tell them that she would not be taking them back again. She of course had her reasons for this which the boys didn't or couldn't understand, but we mustn't be hard on her. They had spent the day waiting for her and, as one can imagine were devastated by the betrayal, as they saw it. I had to comfort them as best I could. After that they were in a couple of children's home but their restless spirits never allowed them to settle.
I kept in touch with them in their various wanderings and saw them every year. Eventually Heber moved to Lima to live with an aunt there in Villa Maria where I was working. I carried on meeting him in Lima and doing my best to support him. He came to my work in Villa Maria but the kids there were not his age group so he only came the once. I saw him most weeks I was in Lima over the last two years there, shopping with him and taking him for meals, which he loved. He told me he had a girl friend called Pamela but I didn't get to meet her. I last saw him in November 2012 when I last visited Peru. But we've kept in touch online since then with some gaps when he disappeared. He is now 22 years old.
In January this year Pamela began chatting with me online and told me she knew all about me and how much Heber loved me and that she was his wife; she then sent me a photo of a baby and told me that it was of their son, Alexiz Gareth, who was born on 24 December 2015. Heber then came in - he'd been at work driving a moto taxi, a very dangerous activity which I know having taken a ride in one in Villa Maria - we spoke on the phone for a while, and he brought me up to date on his life. I realised how my Spanish has become somewhat rusty, which I guess is inevitable given it's now four years since I was last in Peru.
They are living with Pamela's mum and dad in Villa Maria, who seem to be very good to them, though I don't imagine they have much themselves, living as they do in Villa Maria, which is essentially a shanty town built in the hills above Lima. It's their version of a favela, of which there are many in Lima. Millions of people live in them. I'm happy for Heber as he now has a family to be part of so I'm hoping it continues that way for him.
He means the world to me and I am very fond of him, as I know he is of me. He knows I have cancer but I've not yet told him that I'm unlikely to recover from it. I'm not looking forward to having that conversation with him. My consultant says I have to tell him the truth, but she doesn't say what that truth might be. And of course I will tell him the truth painful as it may be for both of us.
I reminded him how we had sat in a cafe in Lima and he told me that he was going to call his first son Donald. He said he did remember but that he will now definitely call his next son Donald. I hope to live long enough to see that happen. Not that I think them having another baby so young is a very good idea.
That's his story brought up to date in so far as I know it. I'm really looking forward to seeing him again and meeting his child and wife. Incredible that the wee boy I held in my arms, as his mother walked out on him in that police station in Cusco all these years ago is now a father himself. I am very proud of him and of myself for continuing to believe in him and sticking by him as so many left him to fend for himself. He's lost a huge part of his education over the years and this will hold him back. I don't know that there is much can be done about that now, but we will talk about it. I'm pleased to hear from him that Pamela is still in education and he looks after the boy when she is at college.
Is it not amazing that Heber and Pamela had a wee boy on 24 December and a few weeks later Kieran and Kerry had their wee girl on 30 January? As my own life draws to an end (slowly I hasten to add) it makes me very happy to know that a wee boy in Lima and a wee girl in Edinburgh will grow up to know all about me and may benefit from my having met and loved their parents.
That's all for now. I will post some pics on my blog of the wee Peruvian lad soon.
Sunday, August 28, 2016
Monsignor Quixote sends me to Peru
My consultant Dr McLean asked me when I saw her in July what I would like to do. I told her I would like to go back to Peru but that I wasn't sure if I had the confidence for it anymore. We had a long discussion on my prognosis, which there is no need to go into here, and on future possible treatment. Would I be prepared to undergo more chemotherapy if she recommended it at some future date?
She told me that she wanted to do everything in her power to make it possible for me to return to Peru and that she was happy for me to do so and that she would plan my treatment around my wishes and personal plans. We discussed timings and future scans etc and agreed that a scan before any trip would not be a good idea. If I went my scan could wait until I came back. She didn't think a few weeks would make any difference.
As you can imagine this kind of conversation is incredibly difficult, as we are really talking about what I should try to do before things get worse, as it seems they inevitably will, and there doesn't seem to be much time left. Dr McLean describes it as taking this window of opportunity to get to Peru, which kind of implies there won't be another one. But lets hope she is wrong on that score.
Anyway we decided that I needed some time to think about it as it's a such a commitment and we agreed to meet again on 1st of September, which is in a few days time so that I could tell her what I planned. It took me a long time to decide. If I had good health I would have been long gone but I've been dealing with this cancer for three years and three months now and it has had a terrible effect on me physically, emotionally and mentally, in that I have lost so much confidence in my ability to cope with things which previously wouldn't have merited a second thought.
In Graham Greene's Monsignor Quixote our hero says to his best friend Sancho : " I don't want our travels to end. Not before death, Sancho. My ancestor died in his bed. Perhaps he would have lived longer if he had stayed longer on the road. I'm not ready for death, yet, Sancho."
So Graham Greene, a long time favourite author, made the decision for me. Or at least gave me the courage to get me going. Greene and my wish to see Heber one more time, in view of his news, more of which to come as promised in previous post. See I don't forget these things.
I have booked my flight and will travel on 21st of September and stay for six weeks. I think this is probably longer than Dr McLean had in mind by a couple of weeks, but I'm sure she won't mind. She says I have lost too much lung capacity to risk going to altitude, so that would seem to rule out a visit to Cusco. I will ask her again but I feel myself that it would be a step too far, much as I would love to wonder around there again. To be a flaneur in Cusco one more time would be good.
That's my news for now. For the past three years a visit to Peru seemed very unlikely if not impossible. I am very excited to be planning my return there. Over the moon as I would say if I were a footballer. It will be hugely emotional for me in so many ways. This body has let me down in so many ways recently but I've learnt to forgive it and all I ask of it now is to carry me to Peru one more time. Especially as we shall be going together minus travel insurance and I've never asked that of it before.
Friday, June 03, 2016
A poem for my brother Coinneach
Brother
I am lying in bed beside you
on my side of the line
which you so kindly drew,
imaginary, of course, but real for sure.
Don’t touch me you say,
so I lie quietly waiting
till you fall asleep
and I can hear you gently breathing.
Softly I place my arm on your back
you continue to sleep, rhythmically
and oblivious of my arm
bravely curled around you.
In the morning I wake up
and find you holding me
wrapped in your arms
and I feel safe there.
Now I dream of those nights
as my cancer keeps me awake
and I’m glad that you are
still here caring for me.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Still here
I know it's been a long time and apologies to those of you who have been looking for updates on here over past four months. I've just been through five months of chemotherapy which laid me low to say the least. I was mostly concentrating on getting through each day as best I could knowing that the chemo was my only hope. I usually enjoy writing my blog and other stuff but I was blocked by tiredness, physically and mentally.
Chemo is now over for time being and my latest scan showed that my cancer responded to the treatment, in that all my tumours have reduced by at least one third and some have disappeared altogether. But I did have a multitude of them. Also there are no new nodules elsewhere, so cancer is still restricted to my poor lungs. I will need another scan in six months and a decision on fryer treatment may be required. Meantime I can live a more or less normal life, though my bowel continues to refuse to behave itself and looks as if that will be it's fate.
Meantime Eilidh Donalda is doing well and getting bigger by the day. She is very like her mother and her dad's younger brother. I see them regularly and they are, all three of them, a highlight of my life.
I have news about Heber in Peru which I will write about in next post or two. I miss him. There is still a possibility of a trip to Peru but my oncologist wants another scan before then, sometime in the autumn. I see her again on 14 July and we will decide then on date for next scan. I am tempted to go to Peru without it but so far have always stuck with her advice, so maybe best to stick with that.
I am planning to go to Stornoway again for eight days on 10 June, with a couple of days in Inverness on my way up, to spend with my pal Kenneth. After that I'm going to London for twelve days at beginning of July, taking in the Marxism Festival over the first weekend. My pal John is coming down for the first few days. Then I'm going back to Cheltenham for a week in mid July. My first return there since I left in 1976. I expect it to be an emotional trip, but one I must do. I'n hoping to go to Stratford to see some Shakespeare afterwards on my way home. I'm driving down to Cheltenham which will be fun, I hope.
All for now. My pal John has just called.
Chemo is now over for time being and my latest scan showed that my cancer responded to the treatment, in that all my tumours have reduced by at least one third and some have disappeared altogether. But I did have a multitude of them. Also there are no new nodules elsewhere, so cancer is still restricted to my poor lungs. I will need another scan in six months and a decision on fryer treatment may be required. Meantime I can live a more or less normal life, though my bowel continues to refuse to behave itself and looks as if that will be it's fate.
Meantime Eilidh Donalda is doing well and getting bigger by the day. She is very like her mother and her dad's younger brother. I see them regularly and they are, all three of them, a highlight of my life.
I have news about Heber in Peru which I will write about in next post or two. I miss him. There is still a possibility of a trip to Peru but my oncologist wants another scan before then, sometime in the autumn. I see her again on 14 July and we will decide then on date for next scan. I am tempted to go to Peru without it but so far have always stuck with her advice, so maybe best to stick with that.
I am planning to go to Stornoway again for eight days on 10 June, with a couple of days in Inverness on my way up, to spend with my pal Kenneth. After that I'm going to London for twelve days at beginning of July, taking in the Marxism Festival over the first weekend. My pal John is coming down for the first few days. Then I'm going back to Cheltenham for a week in mid July. My first return there since I left in 1976. I expect it to be an emotional trip, but one I must do. I'n hoping to go to Stratford to see some Shakespeare afterwards on my way home. I'm driving down to Cheltenham which will be fun, I hope.
All for now. My pal John has just called.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
A Baby Arrives
A baby girl was born in Edinburgh last night Friday the 30th of January 2016. Kieran and Kerry are over the proverbial moon as am I. They are leaving hospital as I write and on their way round to visit me before they go to their home. Kieran wants my home to be the first place she visits.
Her name is Eilidh Donalda Collins. Which gives me immense pleasure. I'm so pleased to know that my name will live on through her. I hope Heber in Peru doesn't forget that he promised to name his first son after me. Heber made contact with me couple of weeks back but has disappeared again. I still hope to see him one more time.
I have had the first piece of good news from the hospital in a very long time. I completed the first two cycles of chemotherapy and had a scan last Monday. I saw my oncologist on Thursday and the scan shows some shrinkage in my tumours, so the chemo is working. I had to have a two week break in my treatment as the chemo was causing unwanted harm to various parts as well as causing me to be tired beyond belief.
I restarted my chemo yesterday and will have four more cycles which will go on till end of April. I'm hoping that four more cycles will shrink the tumours even more. So some reason for hope and cause for a little rejoicing, what with Eilidh's safe arrival and my good news and Man U winning for a change all is well in my world. Shame about the rest of the world though.
I need to go now as my visitors are here.
Her name is Eilidh Donalda Collins. Which gives me immense pleasure. I'm so pleased to know that my name will live on through her. I hope Heber in Peru doesn't forget that he promised to name his first son after me. Heber made contact with me couple of weeks back but has disappeared again. I still hope to see him one more time.
I have had the first piece of good news from the hospital in a very long time. I completed the first two cycles of chemotherapy and had a scan last Monday. I saw my oncologist on Thursday and the scan shows some shrinkage in my tumours, so the chemo is working. I had to have a two week break in my treatment as the chemo was causing unwanted harm to various parts as well as causing me to be tired beyond belief.
I restarted my chemo yesterday and will have four more cycles which will go on till end of April. I'm hoping that four more cycles will shrink the tumours even more. So some reason for hope and cause for a little rejoicing, what with Eilidh's safe arrival and my good news and Man U winning for a change all is well in my world. Shame about the rest of the world though.
I need to go now as my visitors are here.
Friday, January 01, 2016
Happy New Year 2016
Happy New Year one and all. And thank you to all who take the time to read my blog. I appreciate your effort and I will try not to bore you with cancer tales, of which I have many, and which sometimes cannot be avoided.
I started this blog in 2006, so I'm now entering my tenth year as a blogger. My first post was in 2006, not quite ten years ago, but who's counting. Much has happened, many travels, in the intervening years, the travels being the original point of it all. Looking back over those years there is nothing I would change. Maybe the odd mistake here and there that could have been avoided and one or two false leads taking me to dead ends. But really substantially nothing I would do differently.
I have published 575 posts, plus a few more I didn't publish for one reason or another. My blog has been read 27,419 times which impresses me no end. Not the millions some folk get for one stupid tweet, but a quality audience. I feel I know everyone who reads my bletherings. My spell check is working today and seems to think that blethering is already plural. I beg to differ. Most readers are based in UK, USA and Peru, not surprisingly.
But I've had readers all over the world, so I can't honestly say I know you all. I have readers in Spain, Germany, China, Japan, Singapore, France, Pakistan, Colombia, Ukraine, Ireland and other spots. I know someone in all these countries. There are other countries featured from time to time such as Taiwan and South Korea where I don't know anyone or at least cannot recall. Maybe you are a troll or what's the word again for bad people messing with things online? Spammers or bastards?
I've had many messages, emails, texts of one sort or another. I've had a beautiful email from my friend Flor in Lima who continues to work with the young people of Lima though now with a different organisation, but still government based. Had things worked out for me I would be with her now, sharing more good times. Flor, I aim to be with you this year. I won't be fit to work with you and the kids, but we might take them to the cinema again and have party.
I've had a message from Claudia, my Spanish teacher over the years, in Cuzco. Now back in her home city of Montevideo, Uruguay. I hope to visit her there. If I make it back to South America I will. My good friend Yuri has sent me a lovely message from her home in Japan. I had meant to visit Yuri in Japan, but that seems unlikely to happen now. Yuri hopes to be in Edinburgh this year so I look forward to that.
Thank you to everyone else who has sent me messages and cards. I can't list you all, but you're all important to me. I feel blessed to have so many friends around the world. I've had the huge pleasure over the festive period of meeting up with some old friends, many of whom I had not seen for years. You know who you are. Thank you for being there.
I must mention my friend Jane, who is now in hospital and bravely facing an uncertain future. I know Jane won't like me using the word brave, but there it is Jane and it's the best word I can find right now. So you know you're in my thoughts. No getting bevied in hospital now Jane!
Finally I read the other day that Henry V did not say " God for Harry, England and St George!". Apparently he said "Fellas, let's go!". That Will chap making things up again.
And finally, finally, as I may have said before I'm very happy to be here still able to write and aim to be here on New Years Day 2017. Fellas lets go for it.
I started this blog in 2006, so I'm now entering my tenth year as a blogger. My first post was in 2006, not quite ten years ago, but who's counting. Much has happened, many travels, in the intervening years, the travels being the original point of it all. Looking back over those years there is nothing I would change. Maybe the odd mistake here and there that could have been avoided and one or two false leads taking me to dead ends. But really substantially nothing I would do differently.
I have published 575 posts, plus a few more I didn't publish for one reason or another. My blog has been read 27,419 times which impresses me no end. Not the millions some folk get for one stupid tweet, but a quality audience. I feel I know everyone who reads my bletherings. My spell check is working today and seems to think that blethering is already plural. I beg to differ. Most readers are based in UK, USA and Peru, not surprisingly.
But I've had readers all over the world, so I can't honestly say I know you all. I have readers in Spain, Germany, China, Japan, Singapore, France, Pakistan, Colombia, Ukraine, Ireland and other spots. I know someone in all these countries. There are other countries featured from time to time such as Taiwan and South Korea where I don't know anyone or at least cannot recall. Maybe you are a troll or what's the word again for bad people messing with things online? Spammers or bastards?
I've had many messages, emails, texts of one sort or another. I've had a beautiful email from my friend Flor in Lima who continues to work with the young people of Lima though now with a different organisation, but still government based. Had things worked out for me I would be with her now, sharing more good times. Flor, I aim to be with you this year. I won't be fit to work with you and the kids, but we might take them to the cinema again and have party.
I've had a message from Claudia, my Spanish teacher over the years, in Cuzco. Now back in her home city of Montevideo, Uruguay. I hope to visit her there. If I make it back to South America I will. My good friend Yuri has sent me a lovely message from her home in Japan. I had meant to visit Yuri in Japan, but that seems unlikely to happen now. Yuri hopes to be in Edinburgh this year so I look forward to that.
Thank you to everyone else who has sent me messages and cards. I can't list you all, but you're all important to me. I feel blessed to have so many friends around the world. I've had the huge pleasure over the festive period of meeting up with some old friends, many of whom I had not seen for years. You know who you are. Thank you for being there.
I must mention my friend Jane, who is now in hospital and bravely facing an uncertain future. I know Jane won't like me using the word brave, but there it is Jane and it's the best word I can find right now. So you know you're in my thoughts. No getting bevied in hospital now Jane!
Finally I read the other day that Henry V did not say " God for Harry, England and St George!". Apparently he said "Fellas, let's go!". That Will chap making things up again.
And finally, finally, as I may have said before I'm very happy to be here still able to write and aim to be here on New Years Day 2017. Fellas lets go for it.
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