Monsignor of Huancayo, Peru, told to Shut up over Contaminated Rio
The Mantaro Rio of Peru:
A Coke Stream
When you come to visit the Mantaro Valley, just beyond the huge mountains called the Andes, you will enter a Valley unequaled on earth, and again, I must say, you will be surrounded by the second largest mountains in the world, the Andes, although they are not the huge ones, perhaps only 2000-feet tall, but you are 10,500-feet high already, thus, you are 12000-feet above sea-level. The valley is more beautiful than the Scared Valley I think, and it has the old time touch to it; that is to say it brings you back two-hundred years with its adobe houses, ox and carts, and donkey’s, lamas and dogs running up and down the hills, throughout the valley villages. And once in the city of Huancayo (population apex: 325,000), you have all the modern amenities a big city has, so you got a mixture of both, old and new. And the women still dress in their old Wanka garb, with gold and black Wanka hats: a land of intrigue, mystic and romantic Wanka-ism. But there is a sad part to this tale, or story, when you follow the once beautiful river called the Mantaro Rio (and I have been here now four times, and am thinking about living here), you follow a green path, a blue sky, and an infested, contaminated mudstream, sad to say, but a touch of reality: called the Mantaro Rio. It looks more like a coke-a-cola stream than a river that should be blue or green.
Once you gaze upon it, you will not want to swim in it, as the animals do not want to drink from it, both man and beast are wise in this area, for should they, I’m sure they’d not do it twice. Yes, it’s a shame, perhaps those polluting it, should clean it, or drink from it: but that would be murder wouldn’t it, and we are not savages are we not; yet some folks seem to think, otherwise: that being, they have the right, or preference to do as they please with the water of the Mantaro Rio. This was once the problem we had along the Mississippi, where I live (part of the year), in St. Paul, Minnesota, in the United States, until we the people, enforced the government to take action and enforced the folks doing the polluting, to build refineries to clean the water they were infecting. Sounds logical to me.
I’m not sure how hard it is to clean what you dirty, perhaps no harder than cleaning the neighbor’s dirty laundry, you know, the one you dirtied and left for someone else to clean (a lot of us do that don’t we): the Mantaro Rio belongs to the Valley folks, not just those living down by the mines; thus, one may want to call the Core of Engineers in Minnesota, to see how they did it, and perhaps, we can fix what needs fixing.
Now they are even (some Ungodly folks) are sending devilish letters to the Monsignor of Huancayo, saying in so many words: if you don’t shut up, we’ll kill you, or shut you up. Let me simply say this: those saying these things are simply cursing themselves to God, and putting their own, families and lives in danger: with the One they can’t see, but can see them. Why do I say this? I’ve learned in life, what you plant is what you harvest. If it is evil, it will not blossom godly flowers why should it, thus you plant deadly seeds, and you get a deadly harvest, so beware.
Note: written on the way back from Huancayo to Lima, 1/10/2007
A Coke Stream
When you come to visit the Mantaro Valley, just beyond the huge mountains called the Andes, you will enter a Valley unequaled on earth, and again, I must say, you will be surrounded by the second largest mountains in the world, the Andes, although they are not the huge ones, perhaps only 2000-feet tall, but you are 10,500-feet high already, thus, you are 12000-feet above sea-level. The valley is more beautiful than the Scared Valley I think, and it has the old time touch to it; that is to say it brings you back two-hundred years with its adobe houses, ox and carts, and donkey’s, lamas and dogs running up and down the hills, throughout the valley villages. And once in the city of Huancayo (population apex: 325,000), you have all the modern amenities a big city has, so you got a mixture of both, old and new. And the women still dress in their old Wanka garb, with gold and black Wanka hats: a land of intrigue, mystic and romantic Wanka-ism. But there is a sad part to this tale, or story, when you follow the once beautiful river called the Mantaro Rio (and I have been here now four times, and am thinking about living here), you follow a green path, a blue sky, and an infested, contaminated mudstream, sad to say, but a touch of reality: called the Mantaro Rio. It looks more like a coke-a-cola stream than a river that should be blue or green.
Once you gaze upon it, you will not want to swim in it, as the animals do not want to drink from it, both man and beast are wise in this area, for should they, I’m sure they’d not do it twice. Yes, it’s a shame, perhaps those polluting it, should clean it, or drink from it: but that would be murder wouldn’t it, and we are not savages are we not; yet some folks seem to think, otherwise: that being, they have the right, or preference to do as they please with the water of the Mantaro Rio. This was once the problem we had along the Mississippi, where I live (part of the year), in St. Paul, Minnesota, in the United States, until we the people, enforced the government to take action and enforced the folks doing the polluting, to build refineries to clean the water they were infecting. Sounds logical to me.
I’m not sure how hard it is to clean what you dirty, perhaps no harder than cleaning the neighbor’s dirty laundry, you know, the one you dirtied and left for someone else to clean (a lot of us do that don’t we): the Mantaro Rio belongs to the Valley folks, not just those living down by the mines; thus, one may want to call the Core of Engineers in Minnesota, to see how they did it, and perhaps, we can fix what needs fixing.
Now they are even (some Ungodly folks) are sending devilish letters to the Monsignor of Huancayo, saying in so many words: if you don’t shut up, we’ll kill you, or shut you up. Let me simply say this: those saying these things are simply cursing themselves to God, and putting their own, families and lives in danger: with the One they can’t see, but can see them. Why do I say this? I’ve learned in life, what you plant is what you harvest. If it is evil, it will not blossom godly flowers why should it, thus you plant deadly seeds, and you get a deadly harvest, so beware.
Note: written on the way back from Huancayo to Lima, 1/10/2007
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 8:32 AM
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