PERU AGAIN, JUST CAN’T MISS THE LIFE SAVING MOMENT

I find myself once again, drawn to a fading memory of Peru. And find that I must put it on paper before it flutters away in the winds of my mind. OK, I apologize and will return to our times in Pennsylvania after this one last interlude. I don’t know why fresh memories are now crowding my mind. Maybe it has something to do with the sharp rap I had on my head a while back.

So, let me set the scene. It was Christmas time in Peru and our project was closed for 2 months in order that all of the workforce could have their annual Labour Union, mandated, holiday. Each employee was entitled to one month of holiday each year. Deysi and I had been married for about 2 months by this time. We were excited for some time off together. In all we had about 8 weeks off work, during which I had to be on duty at our work site about 2 weeks in total. Which I might add was like a holiday anyway.

We went to our home at the camp and spent our time exploring the Andes. Sometimes, dealing with the issues encountered in an abandoned work site. Basically there were none. For our time at home in Arequipa we had decided on two major activities with which to spend the vacation. First we had arranged the rental of a house on the beach, just west of Arequipa, at a place called Mejia. This rental we took over the Christmas period. Secondly we had planned an after New Year trip to Cusco and the ruins at Machu Picchu, as a late honeymoon. It is the first part of the vacation, that is the subject of this story.

We loaded up Deysi’s family and the maid, all of our clothes, food, drink and whatever else we could cram in the company vehicle and headed for the beach. There were so many of us, that half had to take the bus, with us then picking them up as they arrived. The house we had located, belonged to a local gynaecologist, who would later deliver our Peruvian daughter Ron. It was a spectacular place, high on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. It was big, with sleeping that easily accommodated 10-12 people at all times. The beach was laid out below us, a short walk thru the edge of town.

Deysi’s little sister Lalitas had also rounded up her crew of friends who also joined us at the beach. It was lively and not a minute passed without some sort of action going on. We ate, we drank, we played, and we crammed as much fun as possible into each day. I had purchased a fishing line and some hooks and was slowly learning the art of fishing in the surf with the waves breaking around me. I went out each morning, early, and often brought fresh fish home for breakfast.

By lunch time everyone had shaken themselves out of bed and we headed, one by one down to the beach. The maid would pack a beach lunch and bring it down each day. It was idyllic. Deysi’s brothers and sisters were young and full of energy. They played on the beach and in the water for hours each day. Their high pitched, shrill screams reverberated off the rocks surrounding us on the beach. It truly was paradise. What could possibly go wrong?

Well let me tell you. It all started one day, in the early afternoon, when all was peaceful, I was full of lunch and the girls were all laid out sun tanning or otherwise perfecting their golden tinted skin. I was still shrouded in clothes protecting my milk white skin, which seemed to go from white to lobster red, peel off and back to pale white, whenever exposed to the sun. So on this particular day, I was lying on the beach, half in and out of a doze and letting my mind wander through memories of my time in Peru. It had been just one year by this time, but I had packed a lifetime of new experiences and growth into this short period.

When all of the sudden the howls and screams of the children took on a different tone. Suddenly I was wide awake and focused on a group of people yelling, pointing into the surf and otherwise jumping around. I looked out and see the head of a girl just above the water, her arms waving wildly and generally thrashing about in the surf. It looked as if she had gone in too deeply and was being towed under by the surf. There was a lot of pointing and shouting going on, but no one appeared to be getting into the water to go to her help. Like a milk white superhero I jumped up and ran for the beach.

One of Deysi’s sisters says that the maid of the group next to us had gotten in too deep and was unable to come back in. I whip off my protective clothing and head out into the surf. I ran out into the surf until up to mid shin level and made a hero dive into the foaming water. The young lady was still floundering around and making an awful fuss waving her arms around and apparently in her death throws. In my best olympic crawl stroke I cut thru the waves and approached her. I was trying to think how I get close, without her knocking me out with one of her flailing arms. Then think to circle behind her and grab her from the back.

By now, I am about 100 meters into the ocean, and my guns were starting to tire. I push on and as I am about to come up to her, I feel something brush my foot. I put my foot down and feel sand. Now, I stand up only to find the water depth below my waist (maybe close to knee deep). I feel a slight wave of embarrassment after having swam like a life guard into about 3 feet of water. I reach down and pick this shrieking girl up and stand her on her feet. My god the crowd, on the beach, was cheering as we walked back to shore.

My face was an unnatural shade of red and all I wanted to do was slink away and find someplace to hide. However, this was not going to happen. The leader of the group then had to make a speech about what a hero I was and how I had risked my life to save her maid. Geezus let me outta here will you! I threatened Deysi’s sisters and friends to never repeat a word of this, on pain of dire consequences. It still ranks in my mind as one of my life’s most embarrassing moments. But now it is out and I feel better.