which is at the end of this street:

I spend my days tutoring kids in grammar, math, and sometimes English, which is usually the most entertaining subject and gives kids a chance to ask me “Do they have vegetables where you come from? Do they have fruit?” I don’t know where you saw that Supersize Me movie, kid, but we don’t all weigh 900 pounds. (I could, however, really go for some fries and a shake right now.)

My days have been flying by and when 5:30 rolls around I can’t believe it’s time to go home. Most of my days have been good. Even great.

Most of them.

Last Friday started out to be a great day. My co-volunteer Olga and I were at a table working with three sweet, hard-working, well-behaved little girls. Olga was helping two of them with math problems while I quizzed Perla, who had an English test coming up. Everyone was getting along beautifully sharing pencils and erasers and laughing at mistakes. Perla was on fire with the “Peter is eating an apple” and the “Do you like to drink milk?” Every time I told her she was ready for her test and she could totally draw for awhile if she wanted to she’d ask me to review it all with her one more time.

At 10:30 Olga got up from the table to see who had just come in the front door. I handed Perla a practice quiz. A few moments later I heard Olga behind me yelling at our director to get out get out get out please get out of the bathroom. I turned and saw a strange man with her and assumed homeboy must have had some bad ceviche the night before if getting into the bathroom was such a big deal. I looked down and realized he had a gun.

Clearly he was on break from a hard day of killing babies and tiny puppies because as he pointed the gun with one hand at Olga, me, and the three girls as we huddled together under a table, he was snacking on a mandarin orange with the other. We know he and his two armed accomplices had cased the joint (yeah, that’s right, I’m using crime lingo un-ironically) before because they specifically asked for a laptop and a cell phone, which happen to be the only things of monetary value in the entire office. They didn’t even ask for money. They did, however, try to pull me from under the table, assuming I have a cell phone since I’m a foreigner. The quickly let me go, though, and headed out with a phone and, lucky them, two laptops.

No one was hurt. We were all scared to death but no one was hurt. Even though this is Peru and we work in a dirt-poor neighborhood, none of the kids had any more experience than this girl from a tiny town in Nebraska does with being held at gunpoint, so the girls were terribly shaken up. While we were under the table they cried softly and whispered for their mommies. After the robbers left they cried harder and asked for hugs and sips of water. Not long later they headed home to get ready for school. Somehow that afternoon my girl Perla managed to get a 100% on her English test.

Right now the organization I’m working for is left with everything and it’s left with nothing: all the kids and volunteers are okay, which, of course, is the only truly important thing. Meanwhile, though, the two laptops containing all the organization’s information are being sold on the street somewhere. This photo of our supply drawer, which is used by all the kids and volunteers all day long for homework and art projects, probably best illustrates how ill-equipped we are financially to replace computer equipment:

And to further illustrate what we’re working with, here’s a shot of the well we bring buckets from everyday since there’s no running water:

In case you didn’t feel it coming, I’m writing this in part because I want to hit you guys up for money. This organization was running on very little cash before, and, well, now that we’ll be replacing two computers and a cell phone there’s not going to be much left to go towards the school uniforms and notebooks it supplies to 150 kids each year.

This is who I’m working for. I know it’s not a super user-friendly website, but if you click on “You Can Help” at the top of the page you’ll be led to the donation page. Have a look and then click on one of the Donations links on the left (you can even sponsor a child). Or you can donate from here by clicking on the button at the bottom of this entry. (And please email me if you have any questions about donations. Really. Por favor. I’m here to help.)

Honestly any amount of money you could part with would be so hugely appreciated. I’ve only been here for two weeks, but I can’t tell you how attached I’ve become to some kids already. Education is the only chance they have to escape the cycle of poverty—and, in many cases, abuse—they’re living in. Education might keep these girls from getting pregnant at fifteen and it might keep the boys from being abusive. Education might allow Perla to become an English teacher and visit the United States, which, she told me yesterday, is what she dreams of doing.

Here’s where you can donate:

****UPDATE: I've received an extremely generous offer to match donations up to $5000. If you donate, please include the word "Match" in the comments section at checkout.****

A lot of people who read this site know me in real life and are probably wondering how I’m doing. I’m fine. I’m really having a great time, actually. (Other than that how did you like the play, Mrs. Lincoln?) After the robbery I had a pretty rough day and was seriously considering getting on a plane and never looking back, but I really do think this was an isolated incident—nothing like this has ever happened to the program before. Plus, we have nothing left to take, so, whatever, bad guys.

Before The Incident we left the front door of the office open so that the community could come and go as they pleased. Now the front door is locked at all times and when we replace the computers they’ll be used at the volunteer house rather than at the office. (The volunteer house is super nice, by the way. It’s in another part of the city entirely, has a very secure entry, and has running water and showers that are usually hot.)

I considered not telling my family about this, since I really don’t want anyone to lose sleep for the next year, but again, blah blah blah with the isolated incident business. Plus, if I didn’t tell my family (and they all read this site), I couldn’t hit the Internet up for cash. Please help me make my mom’s yearlong battle with insomnia worthwhile.

One more time, here’s where you can donate:

****UPDATE: I've received an extremely generous offer to match donations up to $5000. If you donate, please include the word "Match" in the comments section at checkout.****

Also consider visiting SKIP to make a monthly donation or to sponsor a child.