On Thursday, my co-worker and I received an uncomfortable petition from the graduating class at our rural school, Pacca. We had just finished sports class and were ready to jump into a mototaxi headed for town, when a teacher called us back.
“Are you in a rush? The fifth graders have something they want to ask you.”
Lauren and I were led into one of the classrooms, a dingy space with molding ceilings that doubles as a storage room for onions and potatoes. The fifteen girls were seated in a semi-circle, and facing them sat two chairs for us. One of the girls stood up.
“Would you do the honor of being the madrinas of the graduating fifth grade class?”
“Yeah, of course, thank you,” we accepted. Unfamiliar with the concept of a madrina, in reality we hadn’t the slightest idea of what the title entailed.
The girls cheered.
Lauren teaching English at Pacca school
Our faces must have betrayed the confusion we felt, because the teacher hesitatingly began an explanation.
“The madrinas usually collaborate in a gift. The girls want to have a big party in December.” We asked how much they needed. “Eight hundred soles,” she responded.
My confusion at once turned to indignation. 800 soles, or $280 USD, is a hefty sum for a party by both Peruvian standards and my own. Didn’t they know that as an NGO worker, I hadn’t saved any money this year? Were they not grateful for the many hours I dedicated to teaching them sports and English, free of charge? Was their level of affection for us simply a function of the amount of money we could hand over? I don’t want to end my time at Pacca on a sour note, but I couldn’t help but leave that day with a bad taste in my mouth.
In Cusco, the misconception persists that all foreigners, especially those from the United States, are wealthy. And, based on their interactions with tourists, we are. Gringos wear expensive clothing, overpay for taxis without blinking an eye, and pull money out of our pockets as if the supply were never-ending. So, my girls must assume that $280 for a party would be no big sacrifice for me.
I guess I can’t fault my girls for these misguided perceptions. I just hope that, in the end, the friendships I formed with them have been genuine, that they like me for more than my supposed money, and that they will somehow understand when I say I cannot pay for their party.
Kimberly is currently serving as Program Manager for GirlSportWorks, a US-based NGO that seeks to enhance the lives of Peruvian girls through athletics. For more on misconceptions of foreigners, check out “Living the High Life (and not even knowing it)” by Kent Green.
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This was interesting. I feel like I’m not surprised by either you two or by the girls. The whole thing kind of sucks. In any case, I don’t think you have to worry about whether the bonds you’ve formed are genuine…
Well said Kim. Whenever I heard the term “colaborar,” it always left a bad taste in my mouth, and I heard it often…