It is lunch and we are all sitting on tiny stools in a cavernous room with dirt floors. They pass around bowls of soup handing us spoons. They talk to each other, and every once in awhile they ask us questions about were we live. The conversation continues. We discuss the different names of items throughout their kitchen. They then translate the words into Chechua the language that we will learn more of in the mountains. Their lunches are huge and full of laughter. Children come in and out. I have no clue which kids belong to my homestay parents. Everyone seems like one huge community.
Later on in the day I ask my home stay mother if she needs any help with her weaving. She asks me to roll a ball of string. At first it is a tedious boring task. It is the same motion over and over again. After awhile wrapping the ball of string becomes calming. The rhythm takes over and I enjoy sitting in silence with my homestay mother. I learned how much silence is valued in their community. The silence becomes peaceful and relaxing. I was able to learn how much a simple task can slow down the fast pace of life.