a profile

let me give you a brief personal profile of our new nana (live-in maid):
her name is teresa. she is 33, from peru, and has two children there in peru: a daughter 16 and a son 18. they live with their father, whom she said is a good father, but bad husband. they got engaged/married when she was 15 and she obviously had her son then and her daughter when she was 17. her husband had another child by another woman a few later. i'm not sure when exactly they separated, but i dont believe they are officially divorced.
she came to santiago 3 years ago to begin working and sending money back to peru. she has no family here (which is huge for a latin american). she works in our house monday through saturday morning, and has the weekends off. however, since she has no one else to see or stay with, she goes to her old employer's house on saturdays and babysits the kids so the mom can go out until 4/5 in the morning.
she is a happy woman. she doesn't complain, doesn't mope. instead of sadness, i sense a feeling of acceptance. this is her life. all she wants is to make some money and go back to be with her kids.
she doesn't have any pictures of her kids here, i asked.
she tells me i should fall in love, get married, and stay here. (don't worry mom and dad, i'm planning to resist.) or at least, she tells me i should come to peru next year to visit her when she's back.
she also has a "dream" to go to the united states. she has family in texas and virginia, and i've told her if she ever does it, she has to come visit me in chicago.

hers isnt a horrible story. it isnt riddled with sadness and pity. i just think it is so incredibly interesting to think that simply because of the difference in where/when she and i were born, i sit at the table right now as she serves me my lunch and then goes to order my room. i didnt work hard for this type of luxury. undoubtedly she has already worked harder in her 33 years than i may ever work in my life. asi es la vida/thats life. right?

i guess i reflect on this in relation to starting my poverty and development class at the university and beginning to think about those stories that are horrible, and are riddled with sadness. those that literally have nothing, and have no nearby strong country to go work in, or that country is doing everything in its power to keep them out. those without parents, families. those plagued with disease, starvation, thirst . those who will never understand what a bed feels like, or will never know running water.

i don't want to sound preachy or liberal or whatever, but i guess i wonder when we stop thinking, 'thats life,' and start doing something about it.

paz y amor.