There are small towns dotted along the base of the Huascaran Mountains. These mountains are lovingly referred to as Montanas Blancas. They are covered in white snow and are deceivingly tall. Opposite the Montanas Blancas sits the Montanas Negros, much shorter in stature and covered in green grass. In between, sits Abuelita’s casita.
We traveled here by bus, an 8 hour trip up a windy road. As we left Lima, brown turned to green and we began to see more vegetation. The air was stuffy in the bus until we started climbing up into the mountains. We gladly traded our shirts and t-shirts for pants and sweaters.
When we arrived to the town, Abuela’s casita was just a short 5 minute ride away. Abuelita met us up at the road and walked ahead of the car down to the casita. There sat Abuelito in a chair waiting for our arrival. We were all very happy to meet one another and many hugs and kisses went around. I was relieved to be in Abuelita’s hands after such a long plane flight and bus ride.
The casita is made of red brick and has white cement floors. There is a large outdoor atrium in the middle with a patio and a small garden. Out the back gate is land where corn and fruit is grown. We have only begun to explore. We have seen pacay, watermelons, avocados, and corn. For tea, I walk into the garden and pick chamomile.
Abuelita is busy all day long. It’s time to harvest the corn, before the rain spoils it. Harvesting the corn is a lot of work, and Abuelita has a worker who comes in to help. Once the corn is picked, it then needs to be shucked. Some of it is hung up to stay dry. Other cobs, the kernels are pulled off, placed on a blanket, and left out on the patio in the sun. The corn is different here, the kernels much bigger.
The boys helped Abuelita with some of the shucking. At night, the corn is moved back under the eave so it doesn’t get wet in the rain. The boys help with that too.
While Abuelita is quite busy during the day, we are moving slowly. There is so much to understand and know, everything has taken time. Water must be boiled before drinking. It is much harder to stay clean since we are outdoors most of the day. We are grateful for full bellies with home prepared meals, chicken, rice, potatoes, soups, fish, eggs, quinoa porridge, and hot chocolate. There is not much money to go around up here but everyone has a full plate of food to eat and someone to eat it with.
At one time, my husband called this home. I wonder how he feels about it now, his relationship to this place, complicated. My boys are talking about home, California. I told them home is where we are together as a family. Our home is each other. But I understand missing the true comforts of our home, a hot shower and your own bed, and familiar smells. This is an adventure with no known ending. But for now, we aim to be content, together as a family, in a new place.
This was both reassuring and sad to read. I can almost see the physical beauty of your surroundings and smell the cooking. And the idea of picking your chamomile for tea is simply delightful. But of course the boys miss home. How could they not? Their beds, books, toys, hiding places, familiar faces. Adventure doesn’t compare at times. You are raising three brave, caring, empathetic, loving,strong boys. They will come to understand why people together is what matters most. Hugs.
I can picture everything so clearly. My child and I are reading this together and it warms my heart. Much love and besos