Quilcate high above the clouds. All photos by Scott Gribble © CARE 2001.

Quilcate is like a doorway to the sky -- so close to the heavens that its mountains seem to hold the secrets of the universe. When I left this enchanted town a year ago, I could hardly imagine ever being able to return. For me, it seemed that Quilcate´s magic would be forever entrusted to mere pictures, its soul living in fading memories.

As our truck wrapped around mountain after mountain, climbing into the sky alongside dancing rock formations and lakes that reflect the Andean heart, I shivered with awe. Completely captivated, I couldn't believe that I was returning to this remote domain of dreams. Quilcate is Quechua for the "land for reflection."

A Quilcate woman prepares to milk her cow.

By returning to Quilcate, I realized that it was possible to have more than just one afternoon of memories of the town. In coming back, I was establishing a relationship with its majestic mountains and sacred sky, as well as creating real friendships with its people. Shaking hands with my friends in the town, we remembered each other from last year. And I knew I would never forget nor abandon this connection with Quilcate, this relationship supported by the bookends of visits separated by the surmounted distance of the past year.

Each morning the people of Quilcate receive the sun while performing the ritual of their subsistence -- the milking of their cows. That morning, they awaited our arrival in order to milk the last cow with us. After, we celebrated the morning by drinking the milk. Heated with a little coffee and spoonfuls of sweet natural sugar, we drank the milk at the same table where we sat only a year ago. The milk warmed us as the sun blew through an open door on the chilling mountain breeze.

We spent the morning walking around the town and learning about the area, especially ways in which things have improved over the course of the year. We went to the house where we made cheese a year ago. There, we talked with the owner of the cheese business who had recently been working with CARE to learn a more efficient production method that allowed him to sell almost twice as much cheese as when we talked last.

The children of Quilcate celebrate the CARE Youth Corps visit.

He also told us about CARE's agricultural school in Quilcate that is attracting many more farmers from across the region to its seminars. By teaching farmers to become more organized and technically advanced, this school is helping other poor communities like Quilcate not only survive, but thrive. The man also showed us improvements in the irrigation systems. The people were benefiting from this by being able to support more cows in their fields, many of which were purchased with loans from CARE.

Most impressive, however, was the new trout farm that CARE helped set up in Quilcate. Working with Peru's Department of Fisheries for technical assistance, CARE provided a $2,000 loan to a local farmer to establish a trout farm for the town. The best part of this project was its ability to spread across the mountains to other struggling communities. This is because the money used to set up the trout farm was only loaned to the farmer, to be paid back in full to CARE. Once repaid, the money will go to someone else to establish another trout farm. It was so amazing to see how far this small amount of capital will go with people so excited to start new ventures and to promote the economy of their towns.

Youth Corps members act as ambassadors of good will, bringing new toys for the children of Quilcate.

Earlier this year, the students at the Lindenhurst Early Childhood Center back home in Illinois organized a toy drive for the students here. The highlight of our day in Quilcate was delivering these toys to the local children at their school. Circling around us with eager faces, we slowly opened the bag of toys and handed them out to the children. The children grinned with joy as they fingered the toy cars and dolls like they were the most precious things they had ever owned. As I blew up a beach ball, the children watched me with wide eyes as its colorful arcs ballooned out with each breath. We played hot potato for more than a half-hour and the children never stopped laughing. Their happiness was contagious.

While saying our sad good-byes to the people of Quilcate, I talked with one man who was writing a history of this "land for reflection." Earlier in the day he had showed us some nearby Pre-Inca ruins, and as we were leaving, he talked to me about the hundreds of ruins and abundance of history that still lie hidden in the surrounding mountains. As our truck pulled out of Quilcate, I stuck my hand out the window and reached out to the rocks and mountains, into the hidden temples of reflection. As the mountains hold the clouds and the secrets of the ancients, so I hoped they would hold my heart until I return to this lofty fairyland.