Punishment in a community of extreme poverty

After conversations with my mother, I realize that a younger audience sometimes reads my blog. I ask you to please self-sensor because of some graphic content. I still plan to post because I truly feel it is important to share the realities of the culture in which I am working: the beautiful, the comical, and the painful. We all must consider how others interact in order to move towards developing cultures of non-violent conflict resolution. I hope that after reading this entry, you do no think less of the Aymara culture, but instead understand that as societies evolve and change, each will have struggles to overcome. I am grateful for having witnessed this event today and it only furthers my determination for my next steps in the years to come....

"The darkenss is a bit frightening, don't you think?" asked my host, Raul, in the high community (above 14,000 ft) in the province of Moho.

"Very much so," I replied. My solemn response, was less in reference to Raul's accounts of the dangerous night creatures, than to the screams of the children that echoed in the black sky.

Raul's neighbor was extremely upset upon seeing that her children (ages 11, 6, and 2) were unattentive to the family's three pigs and allowed them to graze too close to the house. As a result, the pigs enjoyed a feast of potatoes.

I would like to side-note here that potatoes and I will not be seeing much of each other upon my return to the US. In the past 6 months I have consumed more potatoes than in my whole 24 years of existence. Today alone, I had a breakfast of potato and grain soup, and a lunch of potato soup with a main dish of potatoes and rice. Dinner, I opted for a powerbar...THANKS Matt!)

As a result of the potato loss, Raul's neighbor chased the pigs away hysterically with a handfull of rocks. And next came the punishment for the children "being lazy and disrespectful". While I was not an eye witness to the actions, the screams of pain from the children were enough to make my stomach turn. I asked Raul what the punishment involved. Whipping, he told me, was the typical way of handling their children. When I asked where they were whipped he did not respond. Seeing as everyone here wears multiple layers of sweaters and pants, I would certainly not see the marks on their bodies. My hope was also that the clothing somewhat buffered the pain.

The screams continued for roughly a minute. as we were sitting outisde the house, I took notice that during the course of events, Raul's two children (ages 10 and 12) distanced themselves physically from their parents. They moved to the opposite side of the stree, their faces drawn cold of emotion.

After a few moments, I broke my own silence. In general, I am not an advocate of cultural comparison. I frown greatly upon the "well, in my country we do it this way" statements. I find them to be culturally imperialistic and ethnocentric. Moreover, I believe in the need for cultural adaptation to different values, relationships, and means of communication.

"In my country, it is illegal to raise a hand to your child," I quietly commented. "It is considered child abuse."

"Oh. And so how do parents punish their children?" Raul asked.

"Typically, they will take away privledges like watching TV or using the computer."

"Ah, well we don't have TVs here," Raul responded. Of course they aren't TVs, they do not even have electricity or running water. And the bathroom situation...I will spare you all those details.

Trying not to be left without a more productive alternative, I said "sometimes kids are not allowed to go out and play with their friends, or are given more chores as responsibilities."

"Ah, that must work," Raul commented.

"Yes, it is extremely effective," I replied.

The cries from next door faded as other screams grew down the street. Another child receiving another whipping. "It's getting dark, would you like a candle for your room?" Raul inquired.

"No thank you, I brought one with me." I headed to my room, accompanied by his two children so that I could give them a gift of chocolate nutritional mix for their morning milk and said goodnight. As prepared for bed, I was hapyp to hear Raul and his children giggling in the room below as they played games.