Together at ‘The Inn of Long Life’

This year, we brought to a close a phase of the Community Programme which, for over 30 years, has supported children with promising potential from various communities in Cajamarca.

To mark the occasion, a few weeks ago we held our final meeting in a special place: the district of Ichocán, known by its residents as “The Inn of Long Life" [La posada de la larga vida], in the province of San Marcos, not far from Cajamarca.

Some of us were visiting this relaxing place for the first time; others had been there before; but when it came to leaving, we all wanted to stay just a little longer…

During the days we spent together, we enjoyed fond memories, experiences and lessons learnt. We also made new commitments because, whilst we know that many things cannot continue for financial reasons, we also know that the children and their families hope to continue receiving support; they are counting on us, and they know that we are willing to listen to them or lend a helping hand whenever they need us.

We were also blessed by the generous and uplifting presence of Claudia Bauer, a German volunteer who spent a few days with us and got involved as if she had always been part of this family.

Ichocán certainly filled us with energy, enthusiasm and hope – and, why not say it, with delicious sweets, such as those they bake for their celebrations.

We are deeply grateful for the hospitality we received and for the warmth of the local people; but, above all, for the encouragement of our coordinators who, even knowing it would be our final meeting, took part with all their enthusiasm and affection.

Thank you, always!

Claudia, volunteer

Sometimes we feel lonely and demoralised, as we have a lot of work and there aren’t quite enough people to make progress. But people always turn up – as if drawn by our thoughts and dreams – and offer us their support to carry on along this path we’ve chosen.

Claudia Bauer, from Offenburg, Germany, arrived one Sunday afternoon, without speaking Spanish very well, but that was no barrier to us communicating. She came with a tremendous desire to learn about the Network’s work and to do her bit.

Thank you, Claudia, for the time you gave us, counting book by book, checking every box, without complaining; with patience and a smile. Thank you for joining us in this task, which makes our days here feel like we’re part of a family. This is quiet work; at times it’s routine, but not just anyone dares to do it; only someone with the firm resolve and conviction to support us and make it possible for us to carry on, knowing that there are people like you who appreciate us, offer us their selfless voluntary support, and let us know and see that our work is valued, not trivialised; and that is an important part of the Network’s essence.

Thank you for being part of this reading family.

The Folds of Prayer

VIII

Lord,

if I die tomorrow,

do not send me to heaven,

for heaven does not exist,

and it must be hell

to dwell in a place

that is not there.

(…)

Alfredo Mires

in: How to Go to Bed Undecided and Wake Up Ready to Take a Risk

[Como acostarse indeciso y despertar a arriesgarse]

Colombiando

In August, I had the opportunity to travel to Colombia and share the experience of the Rural Libraries Network of Cajamarca in Peru at various venues. In my suitcase, I carried stories, images, questions and many years of shared journeys with the peasant farmers of Cajamarca.

At the invitation of our friend Isabel Henao, who is in charge of the COMFAMA libraries, I took part in two workshops: one in Támesis, a beautiful, small town south-west of Medellín, and another at a ‘Juntanzas’ gathering – an initiative that brings together public, school, community and university libraries to work together to promote access to reading, writing and information.

In both settings, we discussed what a library means when it is born out of the community and grows alongside it. I spoke about the Network from the heart, about our way of understanding books, reading, culture and life, and also on behalf of the peasant farmers and of Juan Medcalf and Alfredo Mires, its founders.

I also visited the IE Concejo de Medellín school in La Floresta, where I met a young girl who reads and writes exceptionally well. The meeting was made possible by Gustavo Oquendo, a philosophy teacher, who had told her months earlier about our Network and one of our symbols: the Ñaupa.

A few days later, Ms Gloria Velásquez welcomed me to the Simona Duque Technical and Industrial Educational Institution in Marinilla, where I ran three workshops with students in their final years. As well as telling them about what we do in the Network, we used some participatory techniques from Popular Education to reflect together on who we are and what we do here in Cajamarca, in our libraries.

I had never seen students so interested and attentive. At the end of one of the workshops, a young man came up to me and asked, quite seriously:

‘And are you going to open a Rural Library in Marinilla as well?’

That question warmed my heart. Because perhaps that is also what an experience like ours is all about: sharing what we have learnt over so many years and discovering that, on the other side of a border, someone can listen, imagine and think that our experience could also be theirs.

I returned to Cajamarca feeling happy. But a part of us remained there. Just as it should be.

Rita Mocker
Red de Bibliotecas Rurales de Cajamarca

Reading with a taste of chocolate

Janely Sugey Triful Centurión, Luz Marina Reto Díaz and Tatiana Yudit Vásquez Tantaleán, members of the Rural Libraries Network and students at the ‘Víctor Andrés Belaúnde’ Privately-Managed Public Higher Education College in Jaén, are undertaking their work placements at the ‘Inmaculada Concepción’ School in Montegrande, Jaén. Janely, Luz Marina and Tatiana are reading facilitators; they are very familiar with the books in the Network’s collection and use them in their activities and practical placements.

Today they are sharing with us their experience of the ‘Reading with a Taste of Chocolate’ picnic-workshop, which links the knowledge found in the Rural Libraries’ books with their pupils’ family and community experiences. 

The students share their account with us: “We feel that the workshop created an atmosphere quite different from that of a normal lesson, as the pupils were able to read more comfortably and freely: sitting or lying on cushions, even without their shoes on, whilst chatting amongst themselves. We also appreciated that no specific book was imposed on them; rather, they had the freedom to explore, observe and choose the text that most caught their attention.”

For his part, Deputy Headteacher Marcos Sánchez explains that the school has been implementing a comprehensive reading programme using the STEAM+H methodology (Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, Mathematics + Humanities), with the aim of providing better conditions for reading, comprehension and critical thinking. “The challenge is to bring texts closer to pupils so that they can read freely, supported by teachers acting as facilitators. Because if teachers, school leaders and families do not read alongside children and teenagers, we lose an important opportunity to connect with reading. We cannot expect better results in reading comprehension if we do not provide better physical and pedagogical conditions,” says Mr Marcos. “Thank you to the Cajamarca Rural Network for providing us with regional literature that reflects the thinking of rural communities and ordinary people, enabling students to recognise themselves in their culture and in the folk wisdom that identifies them as people of Cajamarca.”

We commend these initiatives and are proud of them and of the deputy headteacher’s educational leadership. What a wonderful reading experience, what a lovely way to bring pupils closer to books – without stress, without homework, without pressure. They will remember these moments for the rest of their lives!

Making notes or remembering

All over my house there are little pieces of paper, notebooks and whiteboards where I jot down what I need to remember: things I have to buy, an account number, a password for who knows what, and tasks still to be done. On my mobile, I set alarms so I don’t forget to take my tablets, make a call or go to the dentist, and my diary — both the physical one, a lovely notebook, and the virtual one on this ever-present mobile phone (‘the new little mirror the gringos brought us’, as my friend Grimaldo Rengifo puts it) — is full of little notes, birthdays, meetings and other ‘useful’ details.

I don’t know if it’s the demands of work or my fear of forgetting something, but I have the feeling that, if I don’t write things down, I don’t exist.

I’d like to return to the tranquillity and innocence of a life without so many notes. Alfredo often reminds us of this with these words:

Mama Santos Valdez, yach’aqmama – wise mother – from the community of Chilimpampa, used to say to me: ‘I’m illiterate in Spanish: in Quechua – the ancient mother tongue of the Andes – I can look after myself. And I don’t need to learn to write because we’ve learnt to remember what we learn.’

Rita Mocker

Recovering memory through oral history

I launched a project at the Isabel Bunch de Cortés Municipal Children’s Public Library, focusing on memory recovery and oral history at the ‘Monseñor Misael Gómez’ Municipal Care Home in Pacho, Cundinamarca, Colombia. 

Among the literary selection I chose to enliven this gathering, I brought along a booklet given to me last year by Rita Mocker: *El Shingo enamorado y otros cuentos* (Shingo in Love and Other Stories), by the Rural Librarians of Cajamarca, Peru, part of the *Biblioteca Campesina* collection.

What a moving experience it was to read these stories. The older adults listened intently, laughed, and, little by little, the stories began to bring back their own memories:

— Something similar happened to me.

— Miss, those stories make me laugh.

— Back in the days when I used to go out dancing…

And then I realised that the reading had served its purpose: to open the door to memory.

At the end, several people wanted to share their own anecdotes and stories. The reading gave way to conversation; conversation, to memories; and memories, to words.

Because every older person holds a book that isn’t written on paper: their own story.

Today I would like to thank the Rural Libraries Network of Cajamarca for the time, dedication and care with which they have collected so many rural stories and shared them with the rest of the world.

Stories that travelled from the countryside of Cajamarca to Pacho and which, when read aloud, became living memories once more.

Bibiana Lucía Moreno