A la vera del camino
The story behind A la Vera del Camino












Arena y Esteras was founded after the death of Marielena Moyano (see also the documentation at the Foundation Arnhem-Lima), a leader that was shot by the terrorist organisation Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) in February 1992. Marielena was a friend of each one of the founders of Arena y Esteras, and at that time we were all very young. When she got killed, we all felt very sad in our hearts, but this fact made our courage grow and intuitively, we chose art as our weapon against fear. One of the dreams we cherish is to bring the life of Marielena on the stage. And so it happens that we started time and again to make this drama play that would picture Marielena. But this road was very hard to follow. After each attempt, we found ourselves with a creative germ, a poem, a song, a mouvement, an action, a vision, a gesture, an object... We keep all these bits and pieces in our treasure chest, where we will fetch them one day to compose the drama play about Marielena.

During a rehearsal with the teens in 2000, a woman came to us. She was small, with an Andine face, a neighbour. She sat down and said she wanted to look at us. She came nearer and told us she had seen our pasacalle (a procession-play through the streets) about Marielena Moyano, and that at a certain moment of the play, one of our actors had given her a sprig of flowers. She said het name was Veronica, and that everybody called her Vero.
Veronica thanked us for the gesture with the flowers, and then told us something that surprised us: she had brought the flowers she received from our actor to a holy place in honour of deceased persons that were dear to her.
That morning, everybody was quiet. We invited her for tea and asked her to stay a while longer. Where did she live? What was her job? She also put a few questions to us... We became friends. It was an unforgettable encounter.
The second time we met her, she had decided to tell us her story, and we made a special appointment for this purpose. Many things passed through our head about this neighbour, we even thought she might be mad, or an infiltrator... in short: we were confused.
When she came for the third time... 'the special visit', she told us het story. We have recorded it and here is our summary.

I had no money to buy a bunch of flowers for my beloved deceased, and by coincidence, you gave it to me that day, which made me very happy.
I am Veronica, leader of my neighbourhood group, and I clean houses. Each year, I go to a small church in José Galvez (a church in the vicinity of Villa El Salvador), because it loos very much like the church in my village.
I don't go inside, I stay outside because there is a boulder there that I like very much. I lay flowers on it and don't worry about what people say, I pray, sometimes I sing, and I drink a few beers. Nowadays, I bring my daughter, tell her that I pray for her grand-parents and her aunts and uncles. She is still small, and I can answer her questions easily, but when she grows up, I don't know whether I will be able to tell everything... In any case, she must learn the truth.
Boys! I was very young when I arrived in Villa El Salvador and in the beginning, I slept on the market and helped the people and begged money from passers-by... Little by little, I was able to start buying and selling sweets, and the women that worked in the market paid me to guard their stall. In this way, I got my things together. I now have a small house on squatters terrain, and I have my little girl. I am very busy leading my neighbourhood group. I know everybody at the Women's Federation and also in the community counsel.
I come from the interior, flying for terrorism, I fled like a madman, slept at night where I fell down, and ran for days on end till I arrived in Huamanga-Ayacucho. I passed many villages, but I didn't go near because I didn't dare to enter them. I was seven years old then. My feet hurt, my thighs and armpits were twisted, and so I arrived in Huamanga-Ayacucho. They brought me to the house of a small mother, a sister that kept a guest house as a temporary shelter. When I was on my feet again, I fled to Lima. When I got there, I was almost twelve, but I was so small and thin that I looked 9.
In my village, we had been preparing our Feast, a traditional festival, when those of Sendero came into the village and entered the houses to hide themselves. They frightened us. The next morning, the army came. They kicked in the doors, the fire started at the entry of the village. That's how it started. They brought many of us together on the village plaza. We, the kids, attempted to flee. Then they started to kill people in groups.		 I lay under my granddad who had fallen on the ground. I kept my eyes shut and finally fell asleep... I don't know how long. I woke up during the night, then it was dawn... I looked for somebody to help me but couldn't find anyone. So I ran away, as fast as I could, hoping to find someone. I thought about my uncles, my mother... and continued to run. When the day dawned, I saw another village, but I didn't go near it... I continued in the direction of Huamanga-Ayacucho. I wouldn't know how I finally got there. I was hungry and my feet were bloody, a part of them were burned. How many time did pass?

When I arrived in Villa El Salvador, I started to work in a market stall with refreshments. I earned a little money and went back to Ayacucho, hoping to return to my village. The first year I tried to return on my footsteps, the places that I had passed through.. Good Lord! I couldn't remember a thing... I was afraid to ask for help and finally had to go back to Lima. I tried two more years, till I heard about the Truth Commission and asked a miss to help me. In this way I learned that they had completely devastated my little village. Not so lo,g ago, someone brought me in the neighbourhood... my memory now has faded. When I was there, I didn't want to go too near. I stayed there looking from afar and I sat crying on a rock. I asked them to let me sit there crying for a while. The Miss gave me some flowers and I laid them on the rock I was sitting on. Some years later I went back to that rock near my village and laid some flowers there. I feel calmer now. I cannot go back there. I am a leader here and I don't have the money. So I go to the church of José Gálvez, that is nearer and there's a rock there just like the one near my village.
I don't know how I got here. I am very thankful to the people that gave me water and also to the Sister that cured my feet and gave me shoes. The lady of the refreshments stall is like a second mother to me. Here in Villa El Salvador I started to help her and she has treated me kindly. I am happy to be a leader and to be able to help other people. My daughter must also see that I am strong. She must learn to want to live and to cherish life no matter what. How many times I have thought about committing suicide, but I have never done it. Not so long ago, I have consulted a psychologist... not for myself, but for my daughter. She's a little woman now, and I want to be OK so I can give her the best.