Food, Poverty and Peace

I ate my first meal in the market. 2.5 soles, a little less than $1 and I got a plate of yummy food. The cook offered me "sopa de cabeza," roughly translated as soup of parts of the head of a cow. I declined, but took more lentils. I hear that sopa de cabeza is a favorite here, especially for breakfast because it gives you energy for the day.

I had a completely different eating experience the next day, and it has caused a bit of an internal dilemma. After a morning of soccer I wanted to chow down on some chicken. So, logically, I went to "Super Chicken." I got a plate of fried chicken, fries, salad and the typical sweet chicha drink. I am sitting by the door, enjoying my feast, as I witness a string of people with hard, rough faces make their way into the restaurant with begging hands. The waiter gives them the scrap leftovers, bones, a few pieces of carrot, and then hurrys them on their way. Although the food was delicious, the experience left me with an empty feeling. I know my mission here is to serve and listen to those in poverty, but somehow my super chicken experience made me feel like that isn't enough. I am struggling now with how to find peace with doing what I can, knowing and feeling the pain and suffering that is in my surroundings, and still be Nora. We live in a world where peace and pain exist simultaneously. I need to re-figure out how to live with these two extremes, but I guess that is also the human condition, no?