KIA TAKES US ALL IN
OPEN HEART - OPEN HOME
I heard about the Kia and her kids first from my new roommate Cristina, who had met Kia in Sedona Arizona through their mutual yoga teacher. Two of Kia’s 5 children live in Sedona. Cristina had visited the orphanage on her way back from a family reunion in Bolivia. I heard about Kia again when I ran into an old friend Rob Weber at the Mama Amachi ashram in the bay area. Rob and I had been co-creaters on early Mystic Family Circus efforts. He impressed my with his sweet spirit blended with true activation. He was a get-things-done kind of guy and took on lots of responsibility effortlessly. As he mentioned Peru and this orphanage, I was shocked. My new roommate had just talked about a woman in Peru with the same telling. “Is your new room mate Cristina?” So the world got smaller. They had met at Kia’s, before her path crossed mine. Rob had made a film of her project and was planning a fundraiser, was I interested in helping? When he mentioned that the expansion was slated to take steps towards Zanzibar, I signed up. YES I would like to help and to meet this wise woman myself. Rob described her as the mix between Madonna and Mother Theresa, with the youth spirit and inspiration of a rock star, the healing energy of a shaman, and the long vision and dedication of a modern saint. SO I booked both my trip, and the venue for the fundraiser. I would spend late January to early February in Peru with Kia and put on an event in her honor in San Francisco late February.
I flew to Lima, got a flight to Cuzco that morning, and spent a while there getting accustomed to the country. I loved Cuzco and had a great time making friends with the travelers in that cool town. But the time came to honor my commitment. I got a taxi to the bus depot, and boarded a broken down bus towards the Sacred Valley. Despues Pisac and antes de Calca were the instructions to Lamay. But I confused despues and antes and got off in Calca to board another bus back toward Lamay. The woman next to me knew the Casa and pointed it out and the directions back. Though again in Spanish, I could only hope I got it right. Over the bridge, down the road, through the gate. I tangled my bags on my back and began the long walk. Thinking I would stumble on to the Hacienda in minutes, I must have asked 10 campesinos, all pointing me further down the dirt road.
Forty Minutes later I found the side door and stumbled into the large common kitchen. I was greeted by the cook and introduced to a few of the big girls. Rosa was assigned to show me to Mama Maria’s house. Maria is the cofounder and Kia’s youngest daughter. Kia was on the road to fundraise, meet supporters and celebrate her birthday in Costa Rica for another week. With her baby daughter under her arm Marie welcomed me and assigned me a room off the main courtyard. And then I was welcome to find my own footing. There were ideas, supplies, openings, but nothing specific that I was expected to do. I took out the art supplies and set up a big messy project in their main hall/dinning room. And the kids came. First two or three, quickly a bunch more. We chatted in kid Spanish. Guadalupe braided my hair. The shy little baby Sacco climbed into my lap. This was a good sign. It would take no time for me to feel right at home.
Leisha’s Kia’s second daughter invited me the next day to Kia’s other site in the nearby town of Arin. We boarded a combi past Calca and then walked straight up the mountain road to the amazing stone house under the waterfall. This place has been handcrafted as a beautiful yoga and retreat center. It sits in tiers and tiers of flowers, fruit trees and vegetable gardens under the majestic green Peruvian peaks. The stone floor is decorated with a handlaid OM Mosaic, the front room walled all in glass, and the ceilings open bamboo poles. The guest quarters will be large teepees scattered around the grounds. Some of the kids will be employed here as cooks, gardeners, helpers, maybe even healers. It’s all part of the plan. And the income generated here will support the Casa. With the help of her bigger kids the gardens look ready. Now just the foundation for the teepees needs to be laid before they can welcome their guests. The first retreat will be in May hosted by Diego, Kia’s Shaman who has a following from Canada to the Ukraine.
The following morning Allan offered us a ride to Arin to take a few girls on an overnight. They were thrilled, so it’s hard to choose 4 from the enthusiastic crew. LuzMarina is a natural, Guadalupe is adament, Hermalinda I am happy to add, and Raysail makes four. We load into Papa Allan’s land cruiser for the trip to the top. We have lots of plans for our stay. But first the girls go crazy climbing the cherry trees. We have Capulti cherries for every meal. Leisha and I plant the flower clippings we brought along, then want to walk to the waterfall but the girls have spotted a Piscine while climbing the trees. So we don bathing suits and bring our soap for a trip to the “swimming pool.” It is really the river run through the cement trough to town. There is a little cement ledge where water gathers, so we are just past our ankles splashing and washing in the cold mountain water. But the sun is hot so we get good and wet. Next we prepare the noon meal, the girls clean up, climb trees, play and tease and make trouble till dinner time. Then without electric lights it’s pretty much bedtime. Mats and wool blankets are pulled before the fire. Simple and sweet. We will make it to the waterfall tomorrow. I love seeing these tomboy beauties on a real mountain adventure navigating their way along the riverbed on this high hill hike.
When we get back to the CASA all the kids wanttheir turn. A few days later we take the next group of 4 girls. The sweet smiling Soraida, dutiful Illary, Rosa the helper, and the newest Yulissa, like a shy wild cat, loving the affection found. They are perfectly behaved, thanking us for any offer, and spending the afternoon drawing pretty pictures of the place. We let them climb the trees, and swim in the piscine once the lunch plates are washed, and before they help prepare dinner. With the boys, instead of an overnight which could getout of hand, I take them to town for a swim, and to the market for new dollar dvds. It is carnival month, so we dodge water balloons and fill our home made supersoaker to spray the kids and cars that pass by in the town square. All in good fun.
When we get home Kia has just returned from Costa Rica to the rush of hugs and enthusiasm of each kid, bubbling over to tell of their excitments and daily dramas she missed while she was gone. At 56 Kia is ageless. She is the earth mama, and hippie kid, the big sister, and matriarch. She’s an anomoly. She wears cut off jean shorts with worn out ugg boots. Her blonde hair may be going gray but not so that you’d notice. Worn long and loose with a few waist long dreadlocks wrapped in bright thread she has the aire of a young traveller. Her tatoo of condor wings across her back reminds her of her mission to keep watch over her kin.
Everything takes on a different tone at the Casa with their Mama at home in the nest. They all show her their art projects. Kia asks to keep the best to send to some of her donors. The Red Hot Chilli Peppers will get the colorful little kids creations. Her New York Jets donors will like the paper mosaic hearts-with-wings for their church group. Other supporters will get the kids HAND BOOKS with 27 little outlined hands decorated in detail. The kids will always have lots of love to give their angels.
The next day I walk along side Kia from the road to the Casa. On the way she is repeatedly stopped by each campesino we pass. And to each she offers some special news, report or service. The first Abuela is happy to hear that the plastic surgeons will be in town soon to offer her grandson with the bad hairlip a free opperation, along with all the villagers in need. Next Kia offers condolences to the sad mama whose daughter was the girl that Allen found buried under the recent mudslide. When the mayor authorized a new road be cut in the mountain’s face, all signed on thinking it would bring tourist dollar to their own town with buses traveling through to the Inka Ruins that sit undisturbed high above their valley village. But the mayor never did even a basic study to see that the mountain could withstand the construction, when the first rain washed away the now rootless hillside into a disasterous mudslide that burried houses, barns, farm animals and two villagers. A shoe spotted above the rubble led Allen to the the child, mud up her nose, the doll Kia had just given her the night earlier clutched in her arms. Next Kia crossed a drunken friendly farmer, happy to sell the Casa his corn husks for cow feed. Kia then met a mamacita stooped and pregnant with tears in her eyes. Again the doctors tell her that her child will probably die, and she is at risk as well. Her baby is breech and she can’t afford the price of the reccomended C-section. Two years earlier, Kia got the news just in time to offer the fund to save her from the same diagnosis. She sacrificed the CASA’s grocery money, $250 for her neighbors opperation, rather then let the doctors send her home to die. Quickly she offered to do the same again. Days later we learned the baby was delivered safely with out Kia’s funds.
Next, Annabel a British girl living in LA, arrived. We became fast friends. She has come to Peru for a week to do Ayahuasca and was told of a shaman named Diego through her healer and heard of Kia and the Casa in turn. So I accompany her to Pisac to met this man, I too have heard lots about. He is a calm tall Peruvian with a warm smile and few words. We are welcomed to return for a ceremony in two days. Kia is invited to come too. So we fast that day, and arrive at 7 to his temple home. His young wife and baby will be with us, as well as two Americans on a long term study with him, and a few others making 13 in all.
We find our place against the temple wall and are offered our cup of Ayahuasca tincture in turn. It tastes awful, like poisonous ink. And will be as bad coming up as it is going down. I get woozy and then sick for the first hour or so. And then sink into a lovely pleasant fantasy filled few hours of entertaining hallucinations and all involving stories played out behind closed eyes, to the most amazing tunes. Diego sings songs gifted to the ceremony from the world over. Some sung in Tibetan, Sanskrit, Spanish and english, we are blessed by the velvety, cloud like tunes that take us with them as they roll through the room. My whole journey takes on the texture of his songs, sweet and generous and appreciative. Others have a harder time. One man voices his difficulty in loud guttural cries throughout the night. Others vomit repeatedly into their trusty buckets. I send them my high vibe. Finally Diego deems it time to light the central candle, and the expanse of dark takes shape. We see each other and ourselves again and reality begins to set in a bit.
Diego steps towards me to retrieve his peace pipe, and I ask to offer him something. I anoint him with the amber I have shared with the girls, and we all sigh audibly at the momentous moment. He smokes to the spirits and blesses us all with his connection to the core of the ‘mother vine.’ And then it is time for our closing hugs. He comes to me first and we share a deep heavy hug weighted with all I have to thank him for and all I have learned and been touched by in the longest night of my life. Like a heavy quilt, I feel cozy and sleepy in his hug, whispering a little about the journey he took me on, to the rivers edge and lake sides of his songs. And then it’s time to turn this warmth to the room. We all offer each other a hug, and I land in a large cuddle with Kia at one side, Annabel at the other and Marie and her man Leif surrounding us all. Diego lands on top, cheek to cheek with Milagros and Marie and calls it the Shamans Dream. I will take this amazing new strength and blessing with me as I reenter my world, now an Ayahuascara for life.
I return to the Casa early the next day for my last night with the kids.It’s been two weeks. I have finished the letters, helped paint the boys room, played some soccer, taught some tai-chi and exchanges spanish for english with the older boys. I’ve cooked with the kids, celebrated a birthday, did portraits of them all, and of the group, and made myself right at home. I feel complete,
and it’s time to bid this family farewell. Marie plans a party. So Jorge bakes a cake. Little Bellesario and I spend the day picking vegetables in the three gardens. He is the expert showing me how to climb the back fence to get more corn where the horses are kept. We cook a big stir-fry with too much help from the little ones. And serve the healthiest meal yet to our guests from town. Popcorn and cake, some music, and lots of picture taking, it is a little party with big emotions. I will be so sad to leave this family. Each kid asks me to come back for their birthday. I will return one day I can promise them that. But when, I can not say. One day I will arrive in Cuzco again to catch the taxi to the terminal for the bus to Lamay to begin my 40 minute walk to the Casa. And when I arrive I will find myself home again.
From abandonment and abuse, Mama Kia’s kids are now living in a cheerful home any child would envy. The will grow up to be leaders and to share the love they were raised with. Mama Kia saved these children’s lives and in return her live is forever enriched with the love and affection of a healthy happy and ever expanding family.
I heard about the Kia and her kids first from my new roommate Cristina, who had met Kia in Sedona Arizona through their mutual yoga teacher. Two of Kia’s 5 children live in Sedona. Cristina had visited the orphanage on her way back from a family reunion in Bolivia. I heard about Kia again when I ran into an old friend Rob Weber at the Mama Amachi ashram in the bay area. Rob and I had been co-creaters on early Mystic Family Circus efforts. He impressed my with his sweet spirit blended with true activation. He was a get-things-done kind of guy and took on lots of responsibility effortlessly. As he mentioned Peru and this orphanage, I was shocked. My new roommate had just talked about a woman in Peru with the same telling. “Is your new room mate Cristina?” So the world got smaller. They had met at Kia’s, before her path crossed mine. Rob had made a film of her project and was planning a fundraiser, was I interested in helping? When he mentioned that the expansion was slated to take steps towards Zanzibar, I signed up. YES I would like to help and to meet this wise woman myself. Rob described her as the mix between Madonna and Mother Theresa, with the youth spirit and inspiration of a rock star, the healing energy of a shaman, and the long vision and dedication of a modern saint. SO I booked both my trip, and the venue for the fundraiser. I would spend late January to early February in Peru with Kia and put on an event in her honor in San Francisco late February.
I flew to Lima, got a flight to Cuzco that morning, and spent a while there getting accustomed to the country. I loved Cuzco and had a great time making friends with the travelers in that cool town. But the time came to honor my commitment. I got a taxi to the bus depot, and boarded a broken down bus towards the Sacred Valley. Despues Pisac and antes de Calca were the instructions to Lamay. But I confused despues and antes and got off in Calca to board another bus back toward Lamay. The woman next to me knew the Casa and pointed it out and the directions back. Though again in Spanish, I could only hope I got it right. Over the bridge, down the road, through the gate. I tangled my bags on my back and began the long walk. Thinking I would stumble on to the Hacienda in minutes, I must have asked 10 campesinos, all pointing me further down the dirt road.
Forty Minutes later I found the side door and stumbled into the large common kitchen. I was greeted by the cook and introduced to a few of the big girls. Rosa was assigned to show me to Mama Maria’s house. Maria is the cofounder and Kia’s youngest daughter. Kia was on the road to fundraise, meet supporters and celebrate her birthday in Costa Rica for another week. With her baby daughter under her arm Marie welcomed me and assigned me a room off the main courtyard. And then I was welcome to find my own footing. There were ideas, supplies, openings, but nothing specific that I was expected to do. I took out the art supplies and set up a big messy project in their main hall/dinning room. And the kids came. First two or three, quickly a bunch more. We chatted in kid Spanish. Guadalupe braided my hair. The shy little baby Sacco climbed into my lap. This was a good sign. It would take no time for me to feel right at home.
Leisha’s Kia’s second daughter invited me the next day to Kia’s other site in the nearby town of Arin. We boarded a combi past Calca and then walked straight up the mountain road to the amazing stone house under the waterfall. This place has been handcrafted as a beautiful yoga and retreat center. It sits in tiers and tiers of flowers, fruit trees and vegetable gardens under the majestic green Peruvian peaks. The stone floor is decorated with a handlaid OM Mosaic, the front room walled all in glass, and the ceilings open bamboo poles. The guest quarters will be large teepees scattered around the grounds. Some of the kids will be employed here as cooks, gardeners, helpers, maybe even healers. It’s all part of the plan. And the income generated here will support the Casa. With the help of her bigger kids the gardens look ready. Now just the foundation for the teepees needs to be laid before they can welcome their guests. The first retreat will be in May hosted by Diego, Kia’s Shaman who has a following from Canada to the Ukraine.
The following morning Allan offered us a ride to Arin to take a few girls on an overnight. They were thrilled, so it’s hard to choose 4 from the enthusiastic crew. LuzMarina is a natural, Guadalupe is adament, Hermalinda I am happy to add, and Raysail makes four. We load into Papa Allan’s land cruiser for the trip to the top. We have lots of plans for our stay. But first the girls go crazy climbing the cherry trees. We have Capulti cherries for every meal. Leisha and I plant the flower clippings we brought along, then want to walk to the waterfall but the girls have spotted a Piscine while climbing the trees. So we don bathing suits and bring our soap for a trip to the “swimming pool.” It is really the river run through the cement trough to town. There is a little cement ledge where water gathers, so we are just past our ankles splashing and washing in the cold mountain water. But the sun is hot so we get good and wet. Next we prepare the noon meal, the girls clean up, climb trees, play and tease and make trouble till dinner time. Then without electric lights it’s pretty much bedtime. Mats and wool blankets are pulled before the fire. Simple and sweet. We will make it to the waterfall tomorrow. I love seeing these tomboy beauties on a real mountain adventure navigating their way along the riverbed on this high hill hike.
When we get back to the CASA all the kids wanttheir turn. A few days later we take the next group of 4 girls. The sweet smiling Soraida, dutiful Illary, Rosa the helper, and the newest Yulissa, like a shy wild cat, loving the affection found. They are perfectly behaved, thanking us for any offer, and spending the afternoon drawing pretty pictures of the place. We let them climb the trees, and swim in the piscine once the lunch plates are washed, and before they help prepare dinner. With the boys, instead of an overnight which could getout of hand, I take them to town for a swim, and to the market for new dollar dvds. It is carnival month, so we dodge water balloons and fill our home made supersoaker to spray the kids and cars that pass by in the town square. All in good fun.
When we get home Kia has just returned from Costa Rica to the rush of hugs and enthusiasm of each kid, bubbling over to tell of their excitments and daily dramas she missed while she was gone. At 56 Kia is ageless. She is the earth mama, and hippie kid, the big sister, and matriarch. She’s an anomoly. She wears cut off jean shorts with worn out ugg boots. Her blonde hair may be going gray but not so that you’d notice. Worn long and loose with a few waist long dreadlocks wrapped in bright thread she has the aire of a young traveller. Her tatoo of condor wings across her back reminds her of her mission to keep watch over her kin.
Everything takes on a different tone at the Casa with their Mama at home in the nest. They all show her their art projects. Kia asks to keep the best to send to some of her donors. The Red Hot Chilli Peppers will get the colorful little kids creations. Her New York Jets donors will like the paper mosaic hearts-with-wings for their church group. Other supporters will get the kids HAND BOOKS with 27 little outlined hands decorated in detail. The kids will always have lots of love to give their angels.
The next day I walk along side Kia from the road to the Casa. On the way she is repeatedly stopped by each campesino we pass. And to each she offers some special news, report or service. The first Abuela is happy to hear that the plastic surgeons will be in town soon to offer her grandson with the bad hairlip a free opperation, along with all the villagers in need. Next Kia offers condolences to the sad mama whose daughter was the girl that Allen found buried under the recent mudslide. When the mayor authorized a new road be cut in the mountain’s face, all signed on thinking it would bring tourist dollar to their own town with buses traveling through to the Inka Ruins that sit undisturbed high above their valley village. But the mayor never did even a basic study to see that the mountain could withstand the construction, when the first rain washed away the now rootless hillside into a disasterous mudslide that burried houses, barns, farm animals and two villagers. A shoe spotted above the rubble led Allen to the the child, mud up her nose, the doll Kia had just given her the night earlier clutched in her arms. Next Kia crossed a drunken friendly farmer, happy to sell the Casa his corn husks for cow feed. Kia then met a mamacita stooped and pregnant with tears in her eyes. Again the doctors tell her that her child will probably die, and she is at risk as well. Her baby is breech and she can’t afford the price of the reccomended C-section. Two years earlier, Kia got the news just in time to offer the fund to save her from the same diagnosis. She sacrificed the CASA’s grocery money, $250 for her neighbors opperation, rather then let the doctors send her home to die. Quickly she offered to do the same again. Days later we learned the baby was delivered safely with out Kia’s funds.
Next, Annabel a British girl living in LA, arrived. We became fast friends. She has come to Peru for a week to do Ayahuasca and was told of a shaman named Diego through her healer and heard of Kia and the Casa in turn. So I accompany her to Pisac to met this man, I too have heard lots about. He is a calm tall Peruvian with a warm smile and few words. We are welcomed to return for a ceremony in two days. Kia is invited to come too. So we fast that day, and arrive at 7 to his temple home. His young wife and baby will be with us, as well as two Americans on a long term study with him, and a few others making 13 in all.
We find our place against the temple wall and are offered our cup of Ayahuasca tincture in turn. It tastes awful, like poisonous ink. And will be as bad coming up as it is going down. I get woozy and then sick for the first hour or so. And then sink into a lovely pleasant fantasy filled few hours of entertaining hallucinations and all involving stories played out behind closed eyes, to the most amazing tunes. Diego sings songs gifted to the ceremony from the world over. Some sung in Tibetan, Sanskrit, Spanish and english, we are blessed by the velvety, cloud like tunes that take us with them as they roll through the room. My whole journey takes on the texture of his songs, sweet and generous and appreciative. Others have a harder time. One man voices his difficulty in loud guttural cries throughout the night. Others vomit repeatedly into their trusty buckets. I send them my high vibe. Finally Diego deems it time to light the central candle, and the expanse of dark takes shape. We see each other and ourselves again and reality begins to set in a bit.
Diego steps towards me to retrieve his peace pipe, and I ask to offer him something. I anoint him with the amber I have shared with the girls, and we all sigh audibly at the momentous moment. He smokes to the spirits and blesses us all with his connection to the core of the ‘mother vine.’ And then it is time for our closing hugs. He comes to me first and we share a deep heavy hug weighted with all I have to thank him for and all I have learned and been touched by in the longest night of my life. Like a heavy quilt, I feel cozy and sleepy in his hug, whispering a little about the journey he took me on, to the rivers edge and lake sides of his songs. And then it’s time to turn this warmth to the room. We all offer each other a hug, and I land in a large cuddle with Kia at one side, Annabel at the other and Marie and her man Leif surrounding us all. Diego lands on top, cheek to cheek with Milagros and Marie and calls it the Shamans Dream. I will take this amazing new strength and blessing with me as I reenter my world, now an Ayahuascara for life.
I return to the Casa early the next day for my last night with the kids.It’s been two weeks. I have finished the letters, helped paint the boys room, played some soccer, taught some tai-chi and exchanges spanish for english with the older boys. I’ve cooked with the kids, celebrated a birthday, did portraits of them all, and of the group, and made myself right at home. I feel complete,
and it’s time to bid this family farewell. Marie plans a party. So Jorge bakes a cake. Little Bellesario and I spend the day picking vegetables in the three gardens. He is the expert showing me how to climb the back fence to get more corn where the horses are kept. We cook a big stir-fry with too much help from the little ones. And serve the healthiest meal yet to our guests from town. Popcorn and cake, some music, and lots of picture taking, it is a little party with big emotions. I will be so sad to leave this family. Each kid asks me to come back for their birthday. I will return one day I can promise them that. But when, I can not say. One day I will arrive in Cuzco again to catch the taxi to the terminal for the bus to Lamay to begin my 40 minute walk to the Casa. And when I arrive I will find myself home again.
From abandonment and abuse, Mama Kia’s kids are now living in a cheerful home any child would envy. The will grow up to be leaders and to share the love they were raised with. Mama Kia saved these children’s lives and in return her live is forever enriched with the love and affection of a healthy happy and ever expanding family.
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