An Ode to Sullumayo

 Martin Day: 

Paul took me on a splendid hike up the Bosque de Piedras, the Rock Gardens in Sullumayo's backyard, on my final day as a Companion. We brought along Eugenio, the president of the parent advisory committee at Virgen del Rosario, and Daniel, my transporter up and down the mountain. A vast wasteland surrounded by colossal rocks caught my eyes. The past carved these superimposed boulders masterfully with wind, water, and ice. I am nothing compared to the grandeur of these earth formations. I pondered over my time in this community that seems so far from home, trekking through the Bosque.

Just like that, my seven week-stay in Sullumayo zoomed past in what felt like a span of days. I spent three to four nights a week sleeping on a gym mat for a mattress, wearing my long johns, a pair of thermal sweatpants, two shirts, my hoodie, and a down jacket, snuggled in a sleeping bag and three llama wool blankets. Even with that many layers of clothing, the cold crept into the concrete-floored library I called my bedroom, making it especially difficult to get up in the middle of the night to use the restroom. However, seeing the kids race on their bicycles to school every morning made those frigid, long nights a speck of dust to a day spent with them. 

            Whenever I came back down the mountain for the weekend, locals of Andahuaylillas jokingly asked why I was being "punished" by being sent up to Sullumayo, where I would be excluded from spending moments with my fellow volunteers. Honestly, I cannot deny that it may have gotten in my head once or twice. Looking back into the first few weeks of my stay, on Sunday evenings, I would— just for a moment— dread the idea of going back up the mountain for a whole week. I dreaded the idea because a hint of FOMO (fear of missing out) would lurk its way into my thoughts, knowing that my fellow companions and interns would share a home-cooked dinner as a family at the Jesuit Volunteer House. Worries that I could not ride up the mountain on Monday mornings due to city-wide Paros, or Taxi strikes, were hinted at with slight relief, thinking I might get to stay with my little brother and company for another day. 

            For the past month, Padre Lalo's homilies have shared a common theme on what it means to live as a Christian. To him, "Living as a Christian is to live in problems… living as a Christian means to be serving in other people's problems." He further states, "you cannot say you love God if you don't love the person next to you."

I am frustrated at myself that I would think the slightest negative thought of what I now consider my home, Sullumayo. I sincerely will miss the companionship of my colleagues. Every single one brought so much to the table at Virgen del Rosario. Profe Cristabel swiftly rallied her students into competitive, neurally stimulating games over novels by Peruvian author José María Arguedas. She then directed and choreographed their theatrical interpretations of such stories to entertain the rest of the school. Profe Julián used tough love to discipline students while encouraging them to learn mathematics and PE. I was intrigued to see how he taught students to exert energy through activities that would prevent them from sweating, hoping these students would continue doing these exercises during the cold seasons in Sullumayo. Principal Profe Emilio managed to attend every meeting, in-person and virtual, with parents, the Department of Education, faculty, and non-profit organizations while having the charisma to invite me to his room for breakfast. We would talk about Incan history over coffee and saltine crackers. Lastly, in my favorite moment, Profe Abraham prompted a school-wide activity, having students create their ideal Perú Que Queremos, or "Peru That We Want." During this art session, students envisioned a Sullumayo illuminated with street lights, featuring a local hospital, grocery store, and post office throughout their drawings and paintings; I was mesmerized by their creativity and desire for a better community. 

Despite having reduced school hours, as students need to walk for hours to get to school and back home, the teachers at Virgen del Rosario manage to use their time efficiently to bring out the best in each student. Additionally, they were busy handypersons if the teachers weren't in class. It blows my mind how Emilio, Abraham, and Julián worked past midnight every night building water towers and replacing light bulbs and broken windows. Throughout my time in Sullumayo, I learned from every child. Most showed that English may not have been their strong suit, but instead, they took pride in other classes and extracurricular activities, especially in the arts. The faces of Sullumayo are forever engraved in my heart.