Volunteering at the police station during an uprising (Kent)

Volunteering with the Peruvian National Police is a bit strange for peace-loving Mennonites from Indiana.  We're not used to being around a lot of officers in uniforms with guns.  However our first 2 weeks volunteering there were fairly comfortable.  They have 200 children enrolled in their  summer "useful vacation" program, 20-25% of whom came to our 3 music classes and our English class. They are doing the work of what our Parks and Recreation Departments do.  All of the programming has traditionally been sports, but when the PNP of La Merced were approached about us volunteering there, they welcomed us enthusiastically.  Our first two weeks there were very "tranquilo" with lots of children (and the ocassional dog) running around the police station.  Police officers were friendly and encouraging of what we have been doing--especially our supervisor, Officer Johnny Alata.

When we arrived to volunteer on Monday, February 9 (Teresa's Birthday), things were different.  Instead of the 40-50 police officers gathered on the volleyball/basketball court, there were hundreds.  To get to our classroom, we walk on a small balcony that overlooks the volleyball/basketball court, which is where all of the police officers gather.  When we came home for lunch, Luis, our host father, informed us that there was a big protest in the town of Pichinaki, about an hour and a half from our town of La Merced.  Since La Merced is the capital of Chanchamayo and Pichinaki is also in Chanchamayo, all of the PNP operations were bases out of the same police station where we were based.

Luis told us that Pichinaki is a poor indiginous town and that an Argentinian oil company, Plus Petrol, was planning on drilling there.  Plus Patrol was granted this land 10 years ago by the Peruvian government, which apparently was a shady deal.  The people of Pinchinaki live off of their land and knew if  an oil company came in to drill, that their land and their lives would change for the worse.  So, they protested, they marched, they blocked highways and they blocked bridges and stopped the Plus Petrol trucks from entering Pichinaki.  So, the PNP had to come in.  Everyday during the week of February 9-13, we walked the balcony to our classroom and would look down at all of the PNP police with their shields and their firearms.  One day I estimated 500 officers were there.  Some news reports said that some 600 officers were in the region from all over Peru.  We've also learned that there are currently several other protests involving Plus Petrol in indiginous communities in other parts of Peru.

By the end of the week, the protesters successfully kept Plus Patrol from entering Pichinaki, the the company agreed to retrieve it's equipment and never come back.  However, during the protests, the PNP did open fire on the protesters.  Two people were killed and 140 people were injured.  Apparently the police were instructed not to use lethal weapons; none of the protesters had any.  It's unclear who started the firing, but there is now an investigation underway.

Living at our house were some short-term medical volunteers from the states.  One of them was volunteering in the hospital and saw five of the gun shot victims.  On of them still had a bullet in his neck and was sent to Lima for treatment.  The medical facilities in much of the country are not great.

One evening that week an electric transformer blew in our neighborhood and we had a blackout.  Our first thought was that it had something do do with the protesters and the conflict, but it was simply that the transformer blew.  We weren't in any real danger because we were 70 kilometers from Pichinaki.  Although we weren't in danger being there, I did feel uncomfortable.  The people of Pinchinaki were the oppressed and the marginalized, and here we were volunteering with the oppressors.  Did that make us the oppressors too?  The government felt like the enemy here, and the PNP is the arm of the government.  It felt as though we were at the wrong place at the wrong time.

On the other hand, Jesus taught us to love our enemies.  Here we were in the confines of the "enemy" teaching music and English to children, children who wouldn't otherwise have these opportunities.  We were the first non-sports offering ever in the police station's summer programming.  In four weeks time we taught 20 days, which in the Goshen Public Schools would be the equivalent of 20 weeks of music classes.  While hundreds of police were gathered on the volleyball/basketball court with their shields and guns, we were down the hall singing, dancing, playing singing games, playing percussion, creating dances, improvising and helping children corporate and work together.  Were we showing another way?  Were we being a "witness" to others with a completely different world view?

During our last few days at the police station, the crisis in Pinchinaki was heating up again because Plus Petrol decided it wasn't going to leave after all.  After a week of things getting back to normal, things were beginning to heat up again at the police station.  A new batch of police officers were at the police station.  In this midst of this, we were having our final performances and classes.  Family and friends came for these final performances and watched very attentively and with great interest seeing their children do things that they didn't know they knew how to do.  Every single child and parent thanked us and said goodby to us on the way out.  In Peru, this means that all women and girls will kiss you on the cheek.  Because the sports programming is segregated by gender, all of our music classes were mostly girls, and the majority of those in attendance were mothers and grandmothers.  This meant a lot of "cheek kissing" on the way out.

After our last class on Thursday, February 18, we were surprised by a farewell luncheon by Officer Alata and many of the mothers, fathers (a few), grandmothers, and children of our classes.  They had found out what our favorite dishes and juice were (from our hosts) and served a complete meal to the 40 or so people in attendance.  It's customary for the host (Officer Alata) to kick things off with a tribute/speech.  Even though Officer Alata had a fever and was sick, he gave a very nice speech, thanking us for our work with the children, our patience, and for bringing music and joy to their community.  Then after a wonderful meal and lots of conversation, there was another round of "cheek kissing farewells" and even a few gifts of coffee and chocolate!

Despite the discomfort of volunteering at a police station during an uprising, it did feel as though we were called to be there.  I guess we are not always called to places that feel "comfortable."  Even though we were only in La Merced for 4 1/2 weeks, it was a very rich experience and it was harder to say goodby to the children and families than I would have imagined.  I guess that's one sign of being at the right place at the right time.