Yesterday, the previous volunteer Nicole called my host
family to check in and say hi.
Afterward, my host mom reported that during the course of the
conversation Nicole asked, “Has the alcalde [mayor] made Keisi cry yet?”
And with that question ringing in my ears I headed to the
municipality to try to get some money.
About a month ago, before I started my Pasos Adelante
classes I had submitted an oficio to the municipality. I explained what Pasos was and asked for
financial support for materials, trips, shirts, and snacks. After speaking to the alcalde, he agreed to
the sum, asking if I could wait until May to receive it. Since I didn’t plan on starting Pasos until
the last week of April, this seemed reasonable.
I got a document, signed by him, to this purpose, and I happily headed
out, knowing that I had proof.
Fast forward a month, and I am buying supplies with my own
funds and getting ready to start planning more activities with costs I’m not
willing to front. I walk to the
municipality and head to the treasury. The secretary/treasurer and I exchange
pleasantries, at which point I bring up my purpose for being here—the money I
was promised. She listens and then
explains that she has no knowledge of this.
A fairly reasonable statement given the level of communication generally
experienced in Perú. She says I need to
talk to the alcalde again, despite my signed document. Okay then, he’s here, might as well, why
fight it even if I think it’s slightly silly? So off I go to wait in line.
Three games of Sudoku later I’m called into his office and I
exchange pleasantries, then pull out my “cargos” (my copies of the
documentation leading to him agreeing to give me money). Ahhh, he says, and then asks me to wait a
moment as he speaks to his secretary.
After about three minutes of mildly unsuccessful eavesdropping (the
clearest phrase I hear is “she asking for it now,” which was something I was
already aware of), he comes back and asks if I can come back Monday.
I say sure after a pause, because yes, I can come back
Monday but…Monday I can collect the money, yes?
Yes, yes, he says. And the
secretary of the treasury will know about it…? Yes, yes, he says with a laugh.
Okay, I say as I stand and shake his hand, I’m just asking because I’m new to
how the municipality works. And off I
go.
So. Wish me luck as
Monday approaches, because it would just be utterly lovely if come Monday
morning I walk in to a smiling treasurer, who ushers me into a seat as she
happily doles out the cash. Oh thank you
so much I will gush, as she replies with, Oh, but of course. A vastly superior situation to the one where
the mayor is just stringing me along like the reneging vile term he has been
called in the past, and I end up crying at home.
Besos!
No comments:
Post a Comment