Sunday, August 1, 2010
Major Changes Have Come to Pass
When I initially embarked on this adventure I figured that after a few weeks of natural medicine lessons with Leonie, I would be elbow deep in placenta. Unfortunately, when I arrived and had my first chat with Leonie she said that she misunderstood me and (for some reason unbeknownst to me) she thought that I was fluent in Spanish. I can assure you I am at no point that could possibly be confused with fluency. We agreed that the best course of action would be for me to take lessons from her at a very reasonable rate while I simultaneously took Spanish lessons; from here we would see where things went. This was all well and good for several weeks until one sunny afternoon a very tired Leonie approached me. She explained that she has continued to take on patient after patient and project after project and has reached a point where she is so over worked that she can’t even recall the last time she was able to wash her hair. She has decided in the next few months she will retire from midwifery but in the mean time she must reduce her workload. I can see the stress and how it is negatively affecting her and I completely agree that the best possible option for her is to cut back on the extraneous commitments that don’t immediately effect the health of others. Unfortunately, lessons for me fit in that category. With these changes underfoot, I will soon be leaving this beautiful and sacred valley. Las Chullpas, Leonie and Chalo you have been incredible and thank you for all you have shared with and taught me. Lots of love.
The Birthing Process A.K.A One of the Coolest Things I Have Witnessed
I am so grateful for the opportunity to witness such an incredible occurrence. While I understand this happens on a daily basis, this is now a treasured experience that I will keep with me throughout my life.
Our gal arrived at 9 PM with her husband, this was supposed to be her third child at the ripe old age of 20. An incredible feat, if you ask me! We sat and waited patiently until "the time came." Around midnight, it was quite apparent that this child was not coming any time soon so Leonie and I decided to retire for an evening of very light sleep. I woke bright and early with the idea that she was just a few short hours away from delivery. Well, we waited and waited and waited some more... By the time 2 PM rolled around we concluded that this was indeed a Peruvian child and was operating on her own time. Eventually, things began to progress and I was assigned the duty of timing contractions and preparing various herbs and teas. The hours rolled on, the sun set and we waited. I marveled at the strength and fortitude of this tiny woman as she paced about the small room in an effort to achieve comfort despite the progressively strengthening contractions. When the time finally came, Leonie sat Sonia down on the birthing chair (it looks like a toilet seat- a backless a chair with a hole where the seat should be) and draped a blanket over her lap. I was immediately struck by the simple beauty of the situation. This was so unlike the images portrayed in movies. There was no screeching woman, splayed open for all to see in the harsh florescent lights of a hospital. This was peaceful, calm and most importantly her dignity was preserved.
It was beautiful to see how husband and wife worked together throughout this endeavor. He stood behind her and offered not only mental support but also physical by holding her as she pushed. The only noise to escape her lips was a gentle whisper of his name in her time of need. I busied myself with this and that assisting Leonie whilst gaping at the miracle I was witnessing. At 11:38 PM with one final push, this teeny woman brought into this world a perfect baby girl. At that moment the room felt so full as it seemed to me that more that one new person had come to occupy the space.
Gently, I wrapped and rocked the babe then handed her to her daddy as mama gave birth to the placenta. The entire process was majestic and peaceful and I was continually impressed with how different it was from the images conveyed through modern media.
Here, it is customary to bestow the honor of naming the child upon the midwife. With graciousness and respect, Leonie accepted and named this little gem, Anabella, a name backed by strength and beauty.
On a totally different note, I feel obligated to expound upon another local custom associated with birth, the tradition of eating the placenta. Yes, you read correctly, EATING! After the birth the thick organ known as the placenta is then taken to the kitchen where the meaty section is diced and fried along with tomatoes, garlic and other local seasonings. It is then consumed by the family in celebration of good health and in honor of their new member! Yum!
Our gal arrived at 9 PM with her husband, this was supposed to be her third child at the ripe old age of 20. An incredible feat, if you ask me! We sat and waited patiently until "the time came." Around midnight, it was quite apparent that this child was not coming any time soon so Leonie and I decided to retire for an evening of very light sleep. I woke bright and early with the idea that she was just a few short hours away from delivery. Well, we waited and waited and waited some more... By the time 2 PM rolled around we concluded that this was indeed a Peruvian child and was operating on her own time. Eventually, things began to progress and I was assigned the duty of timing contractions and preparing various herbs and teas. The hours rolled on, the sun set and we waited. I marveled at the strength and fortitude of this tiny woman as she paced about the small room in an effort to achieve comfort despite the progressively strengthening contractions. When the time finally came, Leonie sat Sonia down on the birthing chair (it looks like a toilet seat- a backless a chair with a hole where the seat should be) and draped a blanket over her lap. I was immediately struck by the simple beauty of the situation. This was so unlike the images portrayed in movies. There was no screeching woman, splayed open for all to see in the harsh florescent lights of a hospital. This was peaceful, calm and most importantly her dignity was preserved.
It was beautiful to see how husband and wife worked together throughout this endeavor. He stood behind her and offered not only mental support but also physical by holding her as she pushed. The only noise to escape her lips was a gentle whisper of his name in her time of need. I busied myself with this and that assisting Leonie whilst gaping at the miracle I was witnessing. At 11:38 PM with one final push, this teeny woman brought into this world a perfect baby girl. At that moment the room felt so full as it seemed to me that more that one new person had come to occupy the space.
Gently, I wrapped and rocked the babe then handed her to her daddy as mama gave birth to the placenta. The entire process was majestic and peaceful and I was continually impressed with how different it was from the images conveyed through modern media.
Here, it is customary to bestow the honor of naming the child upon the midwife. With graciousness and respect, Leonie accepted and named this little gem, Anabella, a name backed by strength and beauty.
On a totally different note, I feel obligated to expound upon another local custom associated with birth, the tradition of eating the placenta. Yes, you read correctly, EATING! After the birth the thick organ known as the placenta is then taken to the kitchen where the meaty section is diced and fried along with tomatoes, garlic and other local seasonings. It is then consumed by the family in celebration of good health and in honor of their new member! Yum!
Pictures of Lares Trek
or copy and past the link below:
http://s778.photobucket.com/albums/yy66/Scooby_Tuesdays/Lares%20Trek/
Lares Trek
Chalo (the owner of Las Chullpas- the bed and breakfast where I am staying) asked me to co-guide a trek to Lares with him and without hesitation, I agreed. When I finally had a few moments of silence with myself I realized I had no clue what I had gotten myself into. I came to find out we were leading a four day trek to Lares (a trek I had been wanting to do for some time) for twelve 15 and 16-year old Australian kids and three of their teachers. Sounded good to me. Again I was dabbling with quite high altitudes and about two hours into the venture we were already dealing with one little gal with mild altitude illness. No fun. The scenery was spectacular with views of the valley I just couldn't get over. I think I took one million pictures of it as we ascended into the tops of the surrounding mountains.
The first night was great (if you are into ice crystals). It was literally freezing and this time I wasn't the only one bothered by the chill. The next day I donned my bright yellow snow pants and vowed not to part with them until we had descended to an elevation where I once again could feel warmth in my most distal digits. Day two was accompanied by numerous sick kids. These little chaps weren't very used to the outdoor life and as a result they were really feeling the repercussions of being at such heights. I forced myriad pills, probably gallons of water down their throats and more often than not was showcasing the cool look of wearing both front and back packs in an effort to lighten their loads. At one point we had a little gal who was feeling so ill that we put her on a horse so as to get her to camp faster. But you can't just put a child on a horse and send her off into the hills with some man who doesn't speak her language. So Chalo decided it would be best if I would sprint after the horse as it galloped up the largest mountain in sight. Once I reached the top, huffing and puffing and swearing my lungs were bleeding from such an effort at an insane altitude, I learned it was the highest point of the trek... Well, at least she had a comfy ride... That quite possibly could have been the most difficult physical activity of my life.
All in all I was pretty darn happy with the trek, it didn't even really bother me when it started pouring rain... for two days...Dry season, my eye! So there I was in the hot yellow pants, with mud up to my shins, layers of every shirt I brought, my rain coat and a poncho (which resembled a giant trash bag more than anything else). Clearly, I was the epitome of fashion. The fourth and final day couldn't have been more beautiful! There were birds chirping, the sun was shining, the kids were happy and we were headed to the hot springs! Oh my stars and garters, what a way to end a trek! There were six pools varying in temperature and clarity of water and that stinky sulfur water never smelled soooo good.
The first night was great (if you are into ice crystals). It was literally freezing and this time I wasn't the only one bothered by the chill. The next day I donned my bright yellow snow pants and vowed not to part with them until we had descended to an elevation where I once again could feel warmth in my most distal digits. Day two was accompanied by numerous sick kids. These little chaps weren't very used to the outdoor life and as a result they were really feeling the repercussions of being at such heights. I forced myriad pills, probably gallons of water down their throats and more often than not was showcasing the cool look of wearing both front and back packs in an effort to lighten their loads. At one point we had a little gal who was feeling so ill that we put her on a horse so as to get her to camp faster. But you can't just put a child on a horse and send her off into the hills with some man who doesn't speak her language. So Chalo decided it would be best if I would sprint after the horse as it galloped up the largest mountain in sight. Once I reached the top, huffing and puffing and swearing my lungs were bleeding from such an effort at an insane altitude, I learned it was the highest point of the trek... Well, at least she had a comfy ride... That quite possibly could have been the most difficult physical activity of my life.
All in all I was pretty darn happy with the trek, it didn't even really bother me when it started pouring rain... for two days...Dry season, my eye! So there I was in the hot yellow pants, with mud up to my shins, layers of every shirt I brought, my rain coat and a poncho (which resembled a giant trash bag more than anything else). Clearly, I was the epitome of fashion. The fourth and final day couldn't have been more beautiful! There were birds chirping, the sun was shining, the kids were happy and we were headed to the hot springs! Oh my stars and garters, what a way to end a trek! There were six pools varying in temperature and clarity of water and that stinky sulfur water never smelled soooo good.
Pictures of Manu National Reserve, Peru
Or copy and past the link below:
http://s778.photobucket.com/albums/yy66/Scooby_Tuesdays/Manu%20Jungle%20Peru%202010/
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