It's a Hard Knock Life. Hogar de Esperanza, Trujillo, Peru

     Well,  it had to happen eventually. After weeks of eating tripe, cow stomach, chicken feet and whole sardines I have at last been felled... by a chicken salad sandwich. A curse on the vile swine who first mixed chicken, mayonnaise and hell-fire and called it a meal! From now on I'm sticking to street grilled beef hearts (which, but the way, is delicious). But fear not, gentle reader. I'm off to the Trujillo farmers market tomorrow to pick up some snake bile mixed with lime juice from the local shaman. Should fix me right up.

The offending sandwich.  Looks pretty good, right? WRONG!  Apparently the swirl on the top is an ancient Incan sign of  warning. 

     Molly and I arrived at the Hogar de Esperanza from Huanchaco a little over a week ago. It is an orphanage that houses about 40 boys and girls from age 1 to 18. The majority of the kids are elementary school age and they are ridiculously cute. As you might imagine, Peruvian orphanages are not situated on the most prime real estate.  Our immediate neighbors are a coal repository, a high density chicken farm, an oil refinery and an abattoir. (Def. Abattoir: Slaughterhouse. "The cow was slaughtered in the abattoir") When the wind is right the smell can be just... well, indescribable.
     Olfactory offenses aside, there are some pretty amazing aspects to the orphanage.  It's only about a half-a-mile from the glorious Pacific ocean. South American winter is slowly winding down so that means that the sun is coming out more and more each day. On most days, the quickly setting sun sets the sky on fire with her rosy fingers in one last act of blazing defiance just before she drops into the chilly waters and is extinguished for another day. (That's how I'm told it works, anyway.)

   
     The second great thing about the location of the orphanage is the sand. Just behind the compound wall, a 100 foot tall sand dune looms up out of the desert. The hike up is a ponderous undertaking as the flour-soft sand crumbles away beneath your feet, taking back about half of every step. It is all worth it when you get to the top. A beautiful panorama spreads itself out before you. The golden slopes run away from your feet, rolling over the dunes down to the wine-dark sea. (I've been reading a lot of Homer lately) But the best part of the sand dunes is sand boarding. I've included a video. I guess professional sand boarding is not in my future.

Squinting into the sun.  The great dune looms in the distance

The shifting sands are not so forgiving to all who enter them.

     Scenery aside, our days at the orphanage are spent doing various things. I've been fulfilling my inner Groundskeeper Willie by pulling weeds, cleaning windows and yelling at people with a Scottish accent. I have been giving guitar lessons to a 13 year old boy here named Abraham. He has absolutely no knowledge of either Nirvana or Guns N Roses. Needless to say, I have my work cut out for me. At the suggestion of my friend Dan, I've decided to spend the remainder of this year spreading the gospel of hard rock to all the people of the world. Look for the first installment, The Book of Zepplin out in paperback this fall!
     Although I may be rocking out, Molly is the real rock star of this operation. She spends her days surrounded by little ones. It is wonderful to see their faces light up when she enters the room. She is so patient and kind to each one of them. Every afternoon, she helps them with their homework and they are constantly inviting us over to their casitas to visit, tell stories and play music. Even though we struggle with our Spanish, Molly is such a great communicator that every word we try to express is understood.

Molly with Paul (pronounced Pa-ooool)

     When we're not in the orphanage we spend our time wandering around Trujillo.  Founded in 1534 and well fortified to defend against pirates, Trujillo has a wealth of Spanish colonial buildings inside it's historic old town.  The buildings, with their brightly colored facades decorated with intricate stone and woodwork, stand beautiful and proud among the smooth cobblestone streets.  There is a bullfighting arena just outside the old city walls that imports matadors from Spain to contend with some of the most vicious beasts that Peru has to offer.  We have not gotten to a fight yet, but it is on the list

  However, the best part about Trujillo, as with most of the cities we have visited, is the central market.  It is here that you truly get to feel the pulse of this living, vibrant city.  The major market days are Tuesday and Wednesday, when throngs of people flood into an area the size of 4 or 5 city blocks to hawk their wares. Being as large as it is, the market is divided into several different sections.  A covered area about the size of a football field is dedicated to a mix of different things, but beyond that you get into the distinct districts of the market.  There is the vegetable market, Banana Boulevard, Apple Alley, and of course Meat Street.  Meat Street is not for the faint of heart.  Skinless animals of all shapes and sizes hang from huge meat hooks as far as the eye can see.  Cow tongues, stomachs and intestines dangle over metal bars like towels drying on a rack.  To ensure freshness they even have live chickens that they will kill, de-feather and butcher right in front of you.  It's a grizzly custom, but if you can't handle it, you probably shouldn't be eating meat in the first place.

Some cows in Peru live out their days on lush green pastures, high in the Andes. These guys weren't so lucky.

A vegetable vendor in the market

I must be going now. I hear the call of the Incan god "El Porceliano". We will be staying at the orphanage for about two more weeks, and then its on to Huaraz and Machu Picchu after that.  Hopefully this blog post finds you in good health and with a strong appetite.