"CRAZY LUCY"

She signed herself up for a bike race without even knowing how to ride a bike. She ended up breaking her arm but says she beat them all because she passed the finish line in the ambulance first. She yells “hija” (daughter) at the first sight of me and then laughs to herself. She’s always laughing. She’s loud. She has two sons, Steven (5 years old) and Neizer (9 years old) that call me sister, “hermana.” They are just like her. She says the second her cast comes off, we’re going on a celebratory run. She has these bent, off-brown glasses with the tiniest lenses. She looks dorky but once she opens her mouth, you can tell those glasses have seen her through many bumpy adventures, but they add a delicateness to her. She laughs then she smiles as she looks off in the distance, as if trying to prolong the good moment as much as possible. The smile never leaves her face. She’s got eyes that tell a story.

She’s really taken me in. When I need a hug, she’s there. I feel like she is a “mama” to me. I say I love you to her because I mean it. She tells me to wear my jacket, I’m going to catch a cold, even though Tumbes is hot as hell. It’s endearing that she worries. She really cares, and I really care for her. Her spirit is so infectious – she’s a real warrior. Always making her boys do their homework before playing, disciplining them so make something of themselves one day. Cooking, cleaning, taking care of the animals. Her back hurts, but she still does it. Her arm is broken, but she still runs. She’s got a hard life – every woman here does, but the way Lucy does it is different. She leads her life in a manner I respect deeply. She is never without energy, courage and a smile. Lucy is the mother I’ve needed here in Oidor.