South America | Peru – Bruce Peru, bruceperu echoes in my ears
After the Plaza de Armas I take a taxi south, out of Trujillo, along the coast road.
When we cl;ear the commercial suburbs we suddenly see the Pacific off to our right. The road takes us ever closer as we retrace the rout that earlier J. Pivarnik took, that fateful morning when she opened Pandora’s Box and dumped out its contents all over Bruce Peru.
What could she have been thinking as her taxi drew ever closer to her destination; the beach front shelter BrucePereu was constructing for pregnant abandoned child rape victims. Suddenly there is was, a high walled citadel, new against the landscape of beach on one side, slum buildings on the other. What could she have been thinking when she tried her lawyer damnedest to do this project down, and Bruce Peru along with it.
She was thinking of her new boyfriend. She was thinking, if I can just make enough trouble perhaps I can get my money back and won’t have to spend months as a volunteer. Maybe rent an apartment, and we can live there together.
But why then didn’t she just leave? Why the acrimony, all the made up accusations.
But do you not remember: she had a conscience to assuage.
Maybe I could offer to volunteer again.
You think they would take you back.
Can but try.
No offense, but it does seem they take in all sorts.
I know. Wonder how many others have made trouble for them like that earlier J. Pivarnik?
Lots. And there have been nearly a thousand volunteers since that particular J. Pivarnik wrought her wrath.
And now we are returning to Trujillo. We divert through the ancient colonial city of Moche, founded before the Pilgrim Fathers buried their fish in the corn, in New England.
And then we arrived at Huaca de Luna and Huaca de Sol; two ancient Inca temples, built one atop the other until 7 temples had been constructed, leveled and built anew: seven different designs. I like number 5 the best.