Love is tested when Antonio, a handsome university student, and Evelyn, a strong-willed Peace Corps volunteer, fall in love. At the end of her two-year commitment in Peru, Evelyn finds herself pregnant. The 23-year-olds marry in Cusco and move to Northern California near Evelyn's family. Like most wives of the '60s and '70s, Evelyn expects her husband to support their family and Antonio tries to take his place as head of the household. But he must first learn English, complete college, and find a job.
To make ends meet, Evelyn secures full-time work. They both attend college--she for two years, he for six--which tests their fortitude. Antonio is offered a full-time professorship at the university he attended in Peru. He accepts, leaving Evelyn a single parent. Parenthood, financial stress, the pull of both countries, and long visits from Antonio's mother threaten to destroy the bonds that brought them together.
Readers will delight in witnessing Evelyn as she gives up her preconceived ideas of what her husband's role should be and starts playing it herself. The story of how a shot-gun wedding can turn into a bullet-proof marriage.
Love is tested when Antonio, a handsome university student, and Evelyn, a strong-willed Peace Corps volunteer, fall in love. At the end of her two-year commitment in Peru, Evelyn finds herself pregnant. The 23-year-olds marry in Cusco and move to Northern California near Evelyn's family. Like most wives of the '60s and '70s, Evelyn expects her husband to support their family and Antonio tries to take his place as head of the household. But he must first learn English, complete college, and find a job.
To make ends meet, Evelyn secures full-time work. They both attend college--she for two years, he for six--which tests their fortitude. Antonio is offered a full-time professorship at the university he attended in Peru. He accepts, leaving Evelyn a single parent. Parenthood, financial stress, the pull of both countries, and long visits from Antonio's mother threaten to destroy the bonds that brought them together.
Readers will delight in witnessing Evelyn as she gives up her preconceived ideas of what her husband's role should be and starts playing it herself. The story of how a shot-gun wedding can turn into a bullet-proof marriage.
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I loved Peruâthe terrain, the cuisine, the artistry, and the people. I lived there for two years in my early twenties. The country captured my mind, body, and soul in 1965. And then there was Antonio, the university student who claimed my heart. Love and life in my Shangri-La was magical. Why would I ever leave?Â
The Andes mountains won me before Antonio ever did. Between my Peace Corps home in Abancay and the Incan capital of Cusco stood a string of 17,000-foot snow-capped peaks. Their white tops sparkled, too eye-watering to look at for long in the bright high-altitude sunshine. In the moonlight, the peaks gave off a mysterious, fascinating glow. Thoroughfares twisted through valleys that skirted the base of expansive mountains and continued between towns for 125 miles. My stomach fluttered each time I crossed the Apurimac River that flowed 3,000 feet below. The enormity and beauty of these soaring and plummeting natural forms made my body tingle, especially when I traveled the winding dirt roads with my dark-haired novio.Â
Scenery nourished my soul while Peruvian food filled my stomach. Peruvians flavored their food with just the right amount of cumin, garlic, hot pepper, and other condiments, to make any food delicious. The spicy smells of the exotic, traditional dishes of anticuchos (beef heart), and cuy (guinea pig), roasting over hot coals on Cuscoâs street corners and in its high-class restaurants, made my mouth water. I ate with gusto any dish made with one of the regionâs 3,000 types of potatoes. Papas a la huancayina, potatoes smothered in a velvety cheese sauce, counted as both an appetizer and a main dish. I ordered the simpler, lomo saltado, beef strips with potatoes and tomatoes, whenever available. The black, yellow, and red shades of the dish were as mouth-watering as the colors woven into the crafts I bought.
Intriguing Inca-design fabrics in sunflower yellow with sea-wave turquoise or tomato reds that faded into rosy pinks lured me into Limaâs fabric stores the few times I visited the capital. A meter of the pink cotton material would make a size-ten sleeveless dress for me to wear in Abancayâs warm summers. The muted color brought out my blue-gray eyes. The turquoise and yellow went into my Peace Corps trunk for a future use. Blankets, sweaters, hats, and slippers made from alpaca wool exchanged trunk space with the dresses Iâd sewn in California and brought to Peru in the fall of 1964. Local women asked to buy my homemade dresses when I departed Abancay for the States twenty months later. To the four trunks destined for California, I added a fluffy white stuffed alpaca and a baby-sized poncho, hat, and pair of socks. I wished Iâd had room for more of the womenâs hats that Iâd seen in the Cusco area. The varying types of headwear defined which village a woman came from. Unfortunately, I had room for only the montera style I liked best.Â
 Ollantaytambo women wore bowler hats. In Chinchero women sported bright red and indigo blue flat monteras. Maras ladies wore tall, white stovepipe hats perched above thick, black braids that twisted down their backs. Bright multicolored outfits clothed the women, but not the men. They dressed in drab gray and brown knicker-type pants and regular shirts. Only their hand-woven alpaca ponchos displayed color. Stripes that ranged from orange to red brightened these cape-type coverings that protected them from sudden downpours. Our neighbor in Abancay wove the blanket-sized wraps across upright sticks in our shared side yard.
The residents of Abancay and its outlying areas treated my roommate Marie and me like one of their own. Local ranchers and a friendly clergyman performed magic tricks for our entertainment. Physicians at the local hospital taught us basic medical procedures to provide first aid for residents in the isolated countryside we hoped to serve. Zoila and Zulma, unmarried sisters, made certain we had what we needed for our tiny storeroom houseâa pot for cooking, a sewing machine, or an iron. They helped us fit into our adopted town with invitations to movies and festival dances. Members of our girlsâ clubs taught us how to cook quinoa. And thanks were offered at every turn.
Our P.E. students expressed gratitude for helping them compete in Abancayâs annual gymnastics drill competition. The local agricultural agency showered us with praise when our 4-H club president won the regional competition by demonstrating how to make potato pancakes with the secret ingredient of beer. Life in Peru had been good.
Much as I loved my Peruvian world, I couldnât live in the Andes forever. Antonio had asked me if I would, several times during the sixteen months we were falling in love. I always said âno.â One reasonâhe had no plans for supporting a family.Â
Antonio was in his third year studying economics at the university. At the last minute, as I prepared to leave his glorious country, I agreed to marriage because I didnât want to leave himâand I was pregnant with his child. I couldnât see our future in Peru whenever I looked at the practical side of life and love. I suggested an alternate pathâcome with me to the U.S.
The same qualities I loved about the Andes made living there for the rest of my life impossible. Cuscoâs 12,000 ft. altitude hampered my digestion and breathing. Cold winters in the thin air felt even colder than the frigid seasons Iâd survived as a child in Montana. The different holidays and the spicy food made me homesick for the traditions and dishes of my country. Iâd been away from California for two years and missed the climate and my familyâespecially now that I would soon have a baby to consider.
Life in the States would give my new husband and me a more secure future. Work and educational opportunities existed in greater abundance there. Though I hated to rob Peru of one of its intelligent youths, I believed we could have a better life together only if Antonio exchanged his country for mine.
All he knew of the US was from American movies and me. He spoke no English. He had little work experience. He had to finish college. My country demanded hard work, fluency in English, and an employable skill in order to earn a livable income. Nevertheless, heâd chosen to leave his home country for me. But love couldnât guarantee the life of security, excitement, and learning I wanted. I approached our future with trepidation. Could our love survive the pressures and faster pace in the US? Would I wonder if we should have remained in the land of the Incas where there had been adventure, passion, and love?Â
Evelyn was born in Montana, as 1 of 6 kids in a blue collar, Roman Catholic family. Her parents moved to California as their kids got older, because they wanted them to have easier access to institutions of higher learning.Â
Right away we can see that she and her family embraced a few more modern values. Not only did she expect to get a college education, but she also had her eyes on traveling internationally, and joined the Peace Corps.
This brings me to one of the key things I liked about this book: Evelyn was ahead of her time in a lot of things. She was often juggling work and kids, and was sometimes even the breadwinner of the house. She continuously pursued higher degrees, additional certifications, more challenging jobs, and opportunities to travel â with or without her husband! She comes across as a strong woman â especially mentally.Â
Another interesting aspect is seeing how her work evolved over the years. She spent most of her career working within various school systems. She started out administering tests to determine studentsâ ability levels, and was later in charge of innovating ways to accommodate students who had different abilities. This book spans the 60s â 90s, mostly, and during that time we see new laws introduced that protect differently-abled students, and ensure their access to a public education. We also see the advent of computers, the introduction of the Meyers-Briggs personality test, and other concepts that affect Evelynâs work.Â
While I found these aspects fascinating - I felt like every time she encountered a problem, it was solved within a page. Iâve seen other reviewers applaud her âstraightforwardâ writing style, so I thought maybe it was just that â she didnât oversell or dwell on the issues.
In the last pages, Evelyn puts out a thought that I hadnât considered - but it definitely hit a chord with me, and I think itâs part of why I had trouble sympathizing with her âquick solutions.â The idea is that she benefited from many social nets that arenât as easily available today â from low-cost childcare and subsidized housing to flexible work schedules and bosses that often gave her freedom to pursue what opportunities she wanted to.Â
Dr. Evelyn LaTorre accomplished a lot â and continues to do so, as this isnât her first book! She was also helped by her family, and the many opportunities that were available to an educated woman at the time. If you have any interests in education or social work, I would definitely recommend her story.