Thursday, 26 March 2026

23 February

On 23 February, Alfredo Mires would have turned 65. His subtle humour, his storytelling ability, and the way he drew me into the fascination of his thoughts made me see the world through different eyes. It is something I miss deeply. That is why, so often, I read and reread his writings. Today I would like to share an excerpt from one of Alfredo’s many lectures with you.

Memory lies at the nucleus of a people’s identity, but that nucleus must be opened up, for the legal record is like a shell that suffocates it. Hence the value of maieutics, the art of helping to give birth, of bringing forth what is dearest to the heart. For memory need not be subject to domination when it possesses the independence of a committed heart and the vigour of an indomitable spirit (let me take this opportunity to pay public tribute to squirrels: it seems they do indeed possess a fruitful forgetfulness, for as they do not always remember where they have buried their nuts, they are responsible, year after year, for the birth of hundreds of thousands of trees).

Thank you, Alfredo, for your teachings, for your presence amongst us, for accompanying us on our journey, always.

Rita



Upbringing, ayllu and apus

From 19 to 21 February 2026, we gathered at the General Assembly with the coordinators of the Rural Libraries, the teachers from the Rural Libraries in educational institutions, some volunteers, the central team and the Permanent Council of the Rural Libraries Network of Cajamarca. Days of minga, book swaps, laughter, learning, reading and reflection.


At this assembly, we took plenty of time to understand where we come from, what we can contribute to society and how being part of the Network shapes us. 

At Rural Libraries, we learn the profound meaning of CRIANZA (upbringing). For when we speak of rural libraries, we speak of the Andes, and thus of crianza: the cultivation of potatoes and other foods, seeds, plants and small animals; crianza implies care and protection, conversation and attunement with life.

But Rural Libraries is also AYLLU, understood as an extended family, the community of those who love and respect one another. Ayllu are the mountains and lakes, the trees, the stones that are alive and converse; the hummingbirds, like ‘winged gods’, the small animals, the humans or runes: all are part of this great Andean librarian family.


And, likewise, Rural Libraries has taught us that the APUS, our sacred mountains, possess strength and vitality; they are and exist, they accompany us and converse with us. They are Wak’a mountains, protectors and guardians, a place where the power of the community manifests itself.

Being part of Rural Libraries is, then, all of that. And it is our desire and duty to continue teaching and sharing this way of seeing and living life.