Arawi

María Varela, 12 November 2009

malata

The woman speaks in quechua, she only knows a few words in spanish. I say, I’m María. What’s your name? Arawi, she replies.

Arawi lives in Malata, a hamlet made of adobe lost on a hill upon the spectacular Colca river in Arequipa, Peru. To get there you have to walk for hours along the river or go down the steep Colca Canyon from the last town in the valley. The town is dry mud colour, has a single street and a church closed tight. In Malata people are almost all gone. The roofs of the empty houses have collapsed and huge cactus grow within its walls. A ghost town, I thought when I arrived. Neither dogs or chickens or goats, only souls. But in a corner I found Arawi sitting in the sun.

I sit beside her, smell the earthy scent of the multicolored dress she is wearing. Arawi doesn´t know whay age she is. She had ten children, some died, others are scattered throughout the world

-And you live here all by yourself?

Once Arawi went to her daughter’s house, in Arequipa. But she did not like it: the city is full of noises. Vere fast she came back to Malata. Here you only hear the sounds of the wind and the river.