The bitter side of ice cream

Everyone warned me that I would see some difficult things in Peru. When I cam here, I knew that I would see the type of poverty that, from the confines of my first-world, white-middle-class bubble, has been ashamedly easy to ignore.

In the nicer areas of Lima, suffering lurks in the shadows. Last week, I was walking to my friend's house to cook dinner with a bottle of wine in hand, as I passed a child who was picking through the trash two houses down. Although the symptoms of poverty are heard throughout the city, they remain a whisper in the sections of the city that I frequent.

In contrast, poverty screams in Huancayo-- and any attempts to muffle it are useless. Huancayo is an isolated and polluted Andean city that is suffering from ever-exploitation of its mineral resources. There are simply very few ways to make money. On top of that, the clash between the traditional Andean way of life and the capitalist urban lifestyle leaves many people without the appropriate skills to put food on the table. Poverty affects the young and the old the most; in the town square, we were approached by at least five children (between 4 and 6 years old) and one woman in her 60s who spoke only quechua but effectively transmitted the message that she and her children had nothing.

I feel so helpless. At about 10 pm on Sunday, Oliver and stopped at a small cafe and to order ice cream. My cone had two scrumptious scoops: vanilla chocolate chip and chocolate. After I handed cashier 1.50 soles (about $US 0.40) I turned to see two chestnut eyes looking up at me. The eyes belonged to a young girl, whose black hair was ragged and disheveled. Her clothes were worn and ripped in parts, and the two long streaks through the dirt on her face made it apparent that she had been crying. I guess she was about five years old, and she was all alone. As she looked up at me, she held out a couple of sticks of gum, which she offered for sale. As I handed her 1 sol-- less than I paid for my ice cream-- I felt awful. How many brothers does she have that are doing the same thing? Will she get enough money tonight to eat something? When I hand her the money, I feel that I am doing nothing-- what happens when she gets hungry again?

I finish my ice cream, completely useless. The sugar has lost its flavor; now it tastes like gluttony and injustice.