Lima, Peru (Part 1)

I’d been back in the United States for almost 10 days, but I was already itching to get back to footy and the niños. The 10 days had been special, though, and pretty jam-packed to be completely honest. June is always a tricky month, with lots of special occasions to be present for all in the span of about two weeks. My pops celebrates a birthday the first week of the month, then barely a week later – my parents’ anniversary, followed by Father’s Day a week later.

On top of that, I was scheduled to attend a Hartford Yard Goats game, our local MLB-affiliated minor league baseball team in Connecticut, and give out our annual scholarship. The game was a special experience made even more amazing because of the company of my folks. Every game, the Yard Goats recognize a “Community Kindness Hero” for their efforts in the space of diversity, equity, and inclusion within the state’s capital city and beyond. Thanks to sponsoring partner, Liberty Bank, we had a small on-field presentation followed by a ceremonial first pitch which went… well, it went. My pitch went nearly over the catcher’s head is where it went. Alas, a first first pitch and likely a last, especially after that performance.

It was a perfect start to my father’s birthday weekend and I’m grateful to the Yard Goats organization for shining a light on the work of people who greatly inspire me. The scholarship was cool too, after two years of virtual ceremonies, we were finally able to meet at my old high school auditorium for an in-person one. We give this scholarship out to a local high schooler displaying exemplary leadership qualities, oftentimes using sports as a platform for good. Previous award winners were involved with volunteer soccer coaching, unified sports, Special Olympics, and more. This year, we gave out a $1,500 scholarship to a central defender from the varsity soccer team – Ryan Cantin. A well-rounded student athlete, Ryan was involved in both the National Honor Society and the Unified Leadership Committee while enrolled at Ellington High. Building on an already impressive CV, he’ll be attending Villanova University next year, on a finance degree track.

We’ve only had this scholarship for six years now and it’s already distributed over $7,000 in financial assistance to deserving student athletes. I named it after one of our greatest success stories with Around the Worlds, so it always holds a great deal of meaning to be present for it and to see who might be receiving it that particular year, since it truly does signify something so much greater than just sport and all that.

Our first point of contact was back in August of 2021, but the pandemic had hit them hard and the numbers at their school dropped to near 0. “We have maybe a dozen kids here if you’d like to run a class,” she had said back then. “Or, we can wait until the next year when we’ll hopefully have everyone back on campus,” she said, offering an alternative that I agreed to with cautious optimism. 

Well, the next year had arrived and she was right. The center was currently housing nearly 150 children, providing them food and shelter, while they received an education at nearby scholastic institutes. Janeth and I were planning out a couple days of sessions.

“Unfortunately our weekends are busy the whole month, but can we plan for August?” she proposed.

Eager to get the ball rolling, I asked, “How about during the week?”

“During the week the kids are free after class gets out at 3,” she said, bringing a smile to my face.

We planned three sessions across two days with nearly 50 participants in total. First up was a young group of about a dozen eight-year-olds. Then, we hosted a mixed bag of 11-12 year olds, and the group was 20 strong. Then for the next day, we had a group of 17 boys between the ages of those first two groups. The plan was in motion and excitement was brewing.

After a rough red eye flight followed by a six hour sleep in the airport before my Airbnb check-in window opened, I began to prepare things. I was staying in a familiar neighborhood, and had enjoyed the journey in arriving there, as my Uber driver and I spoke about the game, particularly Peru’s World Cup qualifier the following day. I told him what I was getting into the next week at the different foundations and he offered words of gratitude on behalf of his country and its people. When we finally reached my apartment’s front door, he got out and gave me a hug. It was wholesome. Just a nice, little old Peruvian man.

Now Tuesday, scattered between filling up my bedroom with inflated soccer balls, I decided to go out to get some lunch at my favorite spot before heading over to the program in San Juan de Miraflores. I turned a corner, then turned another, but realized I was being tailed by a police cruiser. They followed me down another street before cutting me off and asking for identification, then patting my pockets down for marijuana. Certainly a strange experience when all I was doing was heading out for some lunch, but one I could easily forget with the program coming up later that day – Ted Lasso’s “be a goldfish” ringing in the back of my mind.

With the sessions scheduled for the afternoon, I shot Janeth a text telling her I was on the way, planning to arrive a little early at 2:30 to get acclimated and prepare equipment for the training session. San Juan de Miraflores was super far, so it was going to be a 45 minute commute no matter what. I plugged the address into Uber – $6, read the estimate. Say less! The United States could never!

My Uber pulled up and I loaded three bags full of soccer balls into the trunk. He decided to take a route by the water, so it makes sense that the place I always stay at is called “Magdalena del Mar”, which makes for a really beautiful commute. That commute was blemished by a near car crash between us and another vehicle in the right lane, but alas we were still well on our way.

I put my headphones in and decided to enjoy the ocean view to my right, while maintaining a scattered focus on the road ahead, only to later recount the near-accident and run in with the cops to Janeth – “I’m having a strange day,” I said, with a chuckle. When I arrived, Janeth greeted me warmly along with a couple other staffmembers.

We made our way to a huge grass field, complete with big goals at each end, and smaller ones on each sideline – honestly a luxury for me when it comes to running sessions. As I prepped a drill for our first group, Janeth and I spoke a little bit more about the foundation. The kids live there from February to December, but go home every 15 or so days to spend some time with their families. The kids come from situations of low-resources and poverty, but are able to receive an education and holistic development thanks to Ciudad de Los Ninos.

While living there, the kids are divided into different Casa Hogares, each overseen by individuals acting as house parents of sorts. On this day, I was met by tutores from each group to help carry out the sessions. The 8 year old youngins arrived and it was time to kick things off.

They all arrived wearing matching yellow jerseys – Sonrisa Francisco they read, with Sonrisa being the name of their casa hogar.

“Hola, Profe! ¿Cómo te llamas?” greeted one with excitement.

I responded and was met with a question, “¿Profe, eres Venezolano?” Apparently I had an accent, go figure!

“Nope! I’m from the US,” I answered.

“Profe, speak in English!” said another young boy.

“Why?” asked another.

“Because that’s what they speak in the USA!” answered the first.

I began to introduce the program and some small details of the class I would be running. As soon as I finished, a hand shot up.

“Profe, I’m going to be honest I did not understand anything you said because you talk too fast”

I had a chuckle. The session ended up going really well. The kids were all respectful, and for the most part, engaged. We hit some of our curriculum mainstays before finishing off with a spirited penalty shootout, as requested multiple times by the kids mid-program. As quick as we had started, Casa Sonrisa was on the sidelines and our second group entered the fray. This was the oldest group scheduled for our three sessions. Immediately, I could tell that this group knew how to play.

I exchanged pleasantries with the house tutor, Marco, who was generous enough to offer his assistance should it be needed throughout the session. From there, I paused and told the group I needed a captain to help me with the session. Usually, hands shoot up at this moment, but this time something else happened. Almost all of the group yelled out the same name or pointed in the direction of one boy – Andersen was his name.

Andersen, having been called upon, approached me and pulled the band over his left bicep, immediately jumping into a round of our listening exercise. From there, I broke into some ball control grids, with Marco and Andersen manning the two other grids. In between variations, I’d poll the group to see if they knew why we were practicing certain things or doing things a certain way, which they always had answers for – there’s never a wrong answer as long as there’s reasoning behind it.

From there, we broke into our 1 on 1 at goal drill, with Marco stealing the show. In goal, two boys, who looked like brothers, split time while facing plenty of shots. Not budgeting time incredibly well, we had a five minute scrimmage before wrapping things up with a little Q&A.

The kids expressed some of their favorite parts of the session, and some things they had learned like using the left and right foot, sportsmanship, defensive and offensive headers, etc. As I headed back home, the car hugging the same coast alongside which I had arrived, a vibrant sunset painted itself on the passenger side’s window. A perfect commute home after a great start to programming in a place so special to Around the Worlds’ story and so near and dear to my heart.