Yesterday, 16 Julio

Yesterday, yesterday, yesterday.

Yesterday was a Lima day. We braved the speed bumps yet again (and there are a lot of speed bumps, it's like vrmmmmmmmSPEED... BUMP...vrmmmmmmmmSPEED... BUMB...) to get to a meeting with MAPFRE, South America's largest insurance company. The Director of the Company in Peru--I believe his name is Dueno--and another man named Fernando told us about their company's healthy growth progress, which, as he noted, mirrors the steady progress of Peruvian business on the whole--which continues to grow despite current recession in other countries. He also told about a company they insure called PANDECO; in addition to insuring this company, Mapfre has collaboraed with Pandeco to help bring health services to 25 communities along the Peruvian Amazon--communities which Pandeco comes in contact with in their line of buisness. Dueno was a cool guy with a nice looking suit, a slightly loosely tied single-windsor knot tie, and sheeny, feathered black hair. He liked to talk and he liked to hear about what we were doing. A question arose about microfinace, which he did know a little about, but in asking the question we stumbled upon a thing called micoinsurance--something he knows more about. It turns out Mapfre has begun to be particularly active in microinsurance, giving poorer people simple, direct insurance policies so that the people can avoid insurance's eqivalent of usury and the pitfall's of not having insurance. After we were done, Dueno showed us the artifacts surrounding the delightful conference room, most as old as 5,000 years, which were found in one of the company's cemetaries. He liked to please us with his knowledge of and stories about the little doodads.

When we returned to San Bartolo--defeating the speed bumps once again--we took a quick rest then shook it on over to Geraldin's house to get the scoop on what was happening with the "Playa Sur" beach cean-up. The kids had made little mini flyers and bigger ones to put on street posts. We broke up and took the city by storm handing them out. Michael even stopped a street volleyball game to solicit, a bold move which seemed doomed as Michael pitched to their blank, confused, interrupted faces. He flashed a smile at the end and held up the flyers; the little volleyball players came running up, grabbing, giggling, and smiling.

Patrick.

Ciao.