Home home (or what’s left of it) ... in my memories this little part of the world, this forgotten valley in Peru, (Chintari, in the district of Ilabaya, in the Jorge Basadre Province, Department of Tacna) is larger than it appears in pictures these days, as the second child of a single primary school teacher, I was supposed to bring happiness to the family, my older brother tragically died and I was the replacement, a lot of expectations... so I happened because they needed to forget and to move on, nobody chooses to be born nor where or in what circumstances.... so my valley and all the living things in it became my world, mum left and grandma became mama and the cats and dogs became good friends and the cows became pets, my first ever friend friend was a goat. There wasn’t much to go around, we only had the few vegetables that we could get from the land, the milk from the cows, the cheese that we used to make with that, with their fat we used to make candles, no electricity. I still can close my eyes and see us sharing some very rustic bread amongst us seating around the fire, tea and plain bread for dinner was all we could afford then but we were happy, I remember us smiling and sharing stories.... long long time ago... but Peru wasn’t a place for happiness back then, we were at war, at war with terror and life was worth very little back then... so I had to leave, even though I never wanted and I always have regretted it... I left, sadly life had other plans for me...so this is it, to all of you that know me a bit, every time I said I wanted to go home home, I meant this little farm.
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