Tribute to Don JulioMy friend – don Julio A big smile, extended hand and a “Buenos dias hermano” in a rather high nasally voice greeted me as I walked through the gates to Carachipampa Christian School in July 1997. I smiled and shook his hand – not knowing a word he had said. Little did I know that this gentle, gracious and humble man would become one of my most valued friends during my 14 years in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Julio grew up in a 5 house pueblito called Plia Verde. Like most of the Quechua families living in the shadows of Mount Tunari at over 5000 meters above sea level, Julio’s family had a little plot of potatoes cultivated at 45 degrees on the rocky mountainside. He took turns with his sisters caring for the family’s sheep and llamas. After harvest, he would help his family bury some of the potatoes in mounds of earth serving as a year-round refrigerator. Some of the choice potatoes were stepped on to remove the moisture and stored under ground as “chuño” for soup and fiestas all year long. The rest of the crop along with wool from the sheep and Llamas was loaded on the backs of llamas, and Julio would start on a 2 week walk to Indipendencia. The money he would get from the sale would be used to buy batteries, salt, pasta and other things not available in rural Bolivia. |
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