It becomes difficult to image just how poor the families are until you are finally there, standing inside their house. You could list all the details--adobe bricks, one room for cooking, sleeping, eating, basically everything, no electricity, not enough water, which is obtained from a public tap, no bathrooms, and always more than six inhabitants--but they remain insufficient. You have to see the corrugated-tin rooftops with tires holding them down, you have to see the small size of the one room, and you have to speak to the mothers and fathers, whose faces bear the wear and tear of years of hard work and pain. 
I did not forsee the pain I would feel simply talking to the parents. Living amongst so much poverty and pain, the children still manage to come to us day to day with smiles on their faces and an eagerness to love and learn. These children remind me that no matter how difficult life becomes, you can always find happiness. I am truly inspired every time I see them!
After the long haul from Phoenix to Los Angeles to Panama City, I finally made it to Lima. Everything was going smoothly--check-ins, transfers, flights--but when I reached the baggage claim at Aeropuerto Internacional Jorge Chávez my luck turned around. Karma right? It can´t always be smooth sailing.
I waited one hour for the conveyor belt to go around and around, carrying an eclectic blend of bags, backpacks, luggage, and boxes. Among that mix, my Maiden Voyage was nowhere to be found. Yes, it´s lost somewhere. (Luckily, I always carry a set of clothes in my carry-on.) I even made sure before and after my Phoenix to LA flight to ask if my baggage would make it to Lima, "Of course!" they said. Moral of the story: never trust airlines--they lie. Alright alright, maybe that´s not the moral. New moral: if you are changing airline carriers, don´t have them transfer your baggage for you, do it yourself.
While I was standing in line to check-in at Copa Airlines for my departure from LA, the young man in front of me told me his baggage fell out of the car trunk while going over a speedbump and he was not aware at the time. He´s going to Colombia for over a month. During his previous international flight the airline companies lost his baggage in transit. I think meeting him was a sign. Or maybe, it was simply a reminder that worse things can happen. My bag is at an airport somewhere hopefully making it´s way onto an airplane headed for Lima, but his remains in the middle of some street.
By now, I´ve made it to Huaraz from Lima on an overnight bus. It´s ridiculously breathtaking here.
This is the view in front of the house the volunteers stay at while working with Seeds of Hope (www.peruseeds.org):
