2. Geraldine, the assistant

Appropriately, the Inn in which I stayed during my time in Perú is called "La Casa del Gringo."

The Gringo's House.

Cute.

Thus I could hardly resist!

While in communication with whom I had assumed to be the gringo, the owner of the inn, I was impressed with the natural and rustic appearance of the bungalowes he has in Cieneguilla, a district of Lima that lies to the southeast of the city in the mountainous foothills. The sun may not be shining in Lima but those from Cieneguilla boast of sunshine almost all the time.

Sunday was a day of relaxation and, when the sun broke through the heavy marine layer mixed with the thick pollution contributed by the over eight-million inhabitants of the city of Lima, I grabbed my book and went out to sit in the sun, soak up some all-important Vitamin D and read a bit.

Geraldine, the young lady who handles the reservations and, together with Juan, the management of the needs of the Inn's guests, appeared and, in the grassy area about fifty feet or so to my right, found a sunny spot into which she deposited a small kennelful of puppies!

Unable to control my "ah, so cute" reflex, I had to approach.

Geraldine and I sat in the sunny grass for over three hours, playing with those tiny puppies and talking.

She is a 23 year old young lady who has been working at La Casa for five years. She was born and raised in Cieneguilla, and has nieces and nephews attending the same school she once did with a few of the same teachers.

Although our conversation revolved around a variety of themes, Geraldine's greatest preocupation lies in the destruction of her native land in the name of "progress." She sees this destruction not only evident in the obvious mistreatment of the land, the tearing down of trees and the cementing of what little grass there is; but also in the values of the people and in the seemingly blind acceptance of the decline in quality of the food there is to eat and the air there is to breathe.

She made the point that her very intelligent sister (university-educated and everything) has no idea that carrots and potatoes do not in fact grow on trees or bushes. "How can that be when we are people of the land? This is how we were raised, this is what a Peruvian is in the soul. How can it be that she can be so smart but yet still know so little about what we are?" Geraldine postulated.

A good question.

She enjoys very much working at La Casa del Gringo. Walter, the owner, is a wonderful man who has had La Casa for fifteen years. Born of an Ecuadorian mother and a father from Piura, a city on the northern Peruvian coast, Walter and his brother were educated in English, not in Spanish. With that explanation, much came into focus, including some of the conversations had with Walter. "El gringo" is the male chocolate lab that was left behind by some gringos a while back, so he was adopted and the Inn was named after him.

Geraldine has great respect for Walter because he will not turn his back on neither his Peruvian heritage nor his deep respect for the natural environment. The Inn is located well off the main drag of town, in a very quiet area that backs up to the Río Lurin. The grounds are decorated with cactus and plentiful grass, shade trees and rosebushes. She said that he could earn so much more money as a fluent, English-educated man but, as he was born in Perú he is not eligible for the "financial benefits" that foreign workers might get. Instead, she said, he follows his dreams and his heart, and lives a lovely life.

The puppies were a month old, crawling all over the gringa's jeans and wanting to suck on my fingers. By the end of the afternoon, all seven had crawled up onto my outstretched legs, along with their two mothers (both had litters, and three puppies had died) and fallen into their late-afternoon siesta.

It almost broke my heart to have to wake them to put them back into their kennel. And, although I knew Geraldine had much more work to complete that evening, it was hard to acknowledge that our wonderful afternoon together had to come to an end.