Chasing Eden - Peru

Poverty ain't so bad...

I'm actually in Cuzco now and have been meaning to write about this for a week....but since I don't really have to do it at all...I put it off till now.

Amantaní is a small island on Lake Titicaca (I said Titi and Caca..hehehe). It is not very touristed.

I have seen poverty before. Poverty occurs in cities, when one doesn't have the money to meet food/clothing/shelter expenses, and, in a broader sense, lacks the resources to participate in the life that those you life around enjoy. Poverty can be a relative position, not always an absolute amount.

Mostly I consider poverty to be bad...something you don't want. That is why I do not consider the 200 some odd residents of this small village in Amantaní to be in poverty....although their material existence surely suggests it.

What made Amantaní different for me is that I stayed with a local family for a day and a half. To see poverty, dirty gaunt faces in torn soiled clothes begging for food or money, is one thing. Everyone has seen poverty, usually just passing by from the window of a train or car.

I lived in poverty...at least for a day or so. I'd never done that before.

I am happy to report that poverty isn't all that bad! I am sure that city poverty is worse, but the people of Amantaní do not live poorly. They live a simple life to be proud of.

As I said, it isn't exactly poverty, although I am sure it is classified that way. It is non-participation in the formal economy. It is sustenance farming. Until tourists arrived 15 to 20 years ago, it was a life without money. Imagine your whole life, and never touching a dime...crazy.

The first question I asked, while sitting on the dirt floor of the kitchen, was "What do people do on the island?".
His response: No hay trabajo. (There is no work)

After I clarified this puzzling response, I found he truly meant that there are no jobs on the island....not a single one. Jobs, in the modern sense of "going to work" and getting paid to do some task...don't exist on Amantaní.

I was fascinated, especially since they kept guinea pigs in a rock cage in the "kitchen". I noticed the walls were made from baked clay bricks, basically just dirt and rocks. There is no reminder from where I sit of the 21st century save a few plastic bags, metal water pail, and a few utensils. Just dirt, rocks, and wood. The food was good though (potatoes, soup, and fish).

So...life without money or jobs. I can hardly conceive such a notion. It seems almost impossible, but it works...and pretty well too.

The children watched shyly, without speaking, while I fired questions at the Señor, bent over my food, trying not to make it seem like an interview, trying not to think about the fact that my shoes cost more money than perhaps they have ever had in their life.

There is no electricity on the island. There is a generator in town, and if you pay 20 soles (6 dollars) a month you can get electriciy from 6pm to 8pm each day when the generator is turned on. No one pays it...so there is no electricity, just sun and candles.

There is no plumbing, no running water, and no sewage disposal system. There are outhouses and a daily walk to the village well to fetch water.

There are no cars, buses, or roads. Get used to walking.

They eat almost exclusively what they grow on the small island. The land is stepped in small plots. The entire island could easily be walked in a few hours.

They grow mainly potatoes and Inca rice (a local variety I've never seen before). In the winter they eat what they saved from the year's harvest. No money required.

There are no hospitals, no real doctors, no local government, and no police. There are only 3 laws on the island: 1) Don't lie. 2) Don't steal. 3) Don't be lazy. Of course there are no jails. If you break a law, you are thrown off the island.

At this point I am taking after-dinner tea and watching the chickens in the back yard. The tea is made by putting a small branch from a local shrub into a cup of hot water. It tastes like a spicy peppermint. La Señora sent one of the children out back to pick the small plant just before making the tea.

So...no roads, no running water, no jobs, no electricity, no police, no hospitals, and a severly restricted diet of water, fish, and white starches.

What kind of life does that make for when compared to the immense machinery needed to support our lives? Good question.

There is no crime on Amantaní...at all. I was told no one in recent memory has been thrown off the island. Everyone in the village knows each other very well and, without the luxuries of modern society, there is nothing to steal. No crime. Crazy.

No one is fat. This is a no-brainer...there isn't enough food. But surely the restricted diet and the absence of medical care catches up with them. I asked about that.

The Señor said plainly, without pride, but simply as a fact, "No hay enfermedad." There is no sickness?? What?

But again, it makes some sense. There are no outsiders bringing in germs and disease. There is no flu, no stomach bug to catch. The air is clear and unpolluted. So is the water. No one smokes (they can't afford to).

The Señor told me that the oldest person on the island died 5 years ago at 122 years old (127 is the world record). The average life span is about 80 or 90 years he said. In the US it is 75 (12th in the world).

People are happy. He seemed confused when I asked about depression and stress and although I didn't ask about their seeming poverty directly (for want of not being rude)...no one ever made a reference to the simple living conditions as a source of distress.

They live longer, there is no crime, and the people are happy...

I am baffled.

Posted by kelliottdykes at April 4, 2005 10:56 PM