Memories of the CdeP Mining Camps and Those I Remember

Margie Fawcett and Jennifer Fox, in Goyllarizquizca - 1952

Margie on the Andes pampas

Memories of my first couple of years in Goyllarizquizca where my first and best -- and now longest-standing -- friend was Jennifer Fox, daughter of Ken and Molly Fox (now in the United Kingdom), are followed by years in the Cerro de Pasco mining camps of Yauricocha, Siria, Mahr Tunel and, later, Cerro de Pasco proper. Here, in Cerro de Pasco, vivid Sunday scenes of “Wyatt Earp” and “Roy Rogers” – movies of the early 1950s -- appear, while we children, ranging in age from three to 14, were wrapped in awe in the comfortable theatre chairs of the Cerro de Pasco Club. The modern club, with all its amenities, was up the road from our house on the main road, facing the opposite hill with its two tiers of company houses. The clubhouse also offered a bowling alley and many a party was held there for our “partying” parents, including Bridge parties. Birthday parties were lots of fun in the grand dance hall. I remember the McComb, Humphreys, Patterson, Lochman, and Foote children -- some my age, some older.

My brother, Frank’s, and my house was right next door to the school. Although I was home-schooled until I was six or seven by my mother, given that the previous mining camps did not have schools, I think I attended the one in Cerro de Pasco only briefly, before we left for Colombia to another mining company, this time involved in gold mining one. Mother used to receive school material from Calvert Homeschooling in America.

Trips down to Lima, the capital, were broken by a stop at the company hotel in La Oroya (now the most polluted place on earth), where we visited some friends and family (Youngs (daughter Monica lives in Sydney, Australia), Allens, Oxleys, Fitchetts (daughter Ann lives in Christchurch, New Zealand), and Caudrons, respectively, the latter family now in Belgium). Relatives were also visited on our way through Casapalca – the Boswells (now in the United States).

Other children I remember from the different camps were (forgive spelling errors!) Doug Allen, the Smith-Gillespies (now in the United States and Switzerland), Gautiers, Nicoletti (or Nicolini?), and others who, in my mind, have now become nameless. Adults were the Oxleys, Whitlings, Walkers.

On the eight-hour trip to and from the coastal city of Lima, either by car or train, one would pass Ticlio at 18,000 feet altitude. “Soroche”, altitude sickness, was a common fact – we all suffered from it.

Train rides were captivating. While the Indian passengers would eat the strong-smelling large yellow fruit, relative to the lime, which were sold at the stations on long vines, we expatriates would be enraptured by the frequent change in direction of the train. The diesel engine, sometimes two at a time, which pulled the various carriages of peasants and city folk, would delink at one level, be turned on a “turn-about” and then push the train downwards to the next level of the high Andes mountains. On the next bend, the engine(s) would be turned around again to pull the coaches across and down the next few kilometers. The zigzagging, a feat of engineering, was the only way for the train to descend the high Andes mountains. What once was known as the Central Railway (built by an American, Henry (Enrique) Meiggs), is the highest railway in the world. The bridges across the deep valleys always held my breath. They were so narrow and high.

The loneliness and barren hills of the Andes, with the deep blue sky, is brought to mind many a time, when I listen to Peruvian Indian music, particularly when played with the kena and charango. It gives me a certain desire to be back there, but only for a while; to contemplate the harsh beauty enveloping a beige-brown-colored landscape, with snow-capped mountains and a deep blue cover that is the sky.

These are experiences and memories that have made us what we are today.

Margie (nee Fawcett)

Publish Post

Experiences by Pat Dowd II

I can still hear the birds chirpping in the early morning, while the smells of sweet sirup, freshly brewed coffee, toasts made from home-made bread mixed together with that unforgetable and unmistakingly Yaupi jungle smell.

We travelled to Yaupi many times while we lived in Peru, but I guess the first and the last are the ones I remember the clearest. I was three the first time we went with my parents, my baby sister and the maid (of course).

I remember crossing the river in "la oroya" and walking in the jungle holding tight to daddy's hand. But the adventure I remember the clearest, was going on a ride in the cable-car that transported material from the road, high up in the mountain, to the electric plant which was right by the river.

I remember the feeling of climbing and climbing until the car was nearly vertical!! It was a slow climb, which made it even more frightening.

But the worst part of the story was that once you got on, you couldn't get off, and that meant you had to travel all the way down in the cable-car AGAIN!! Now mommy and I didn't let go our hands one minute (I needed reasuring too!) and I think the best way to make you all understand how we felt are the two pictures I am attaching here.

Love, Pat

p.s. But I'd do it again!

Pat Dowd

Experiences by Suzie Wright

I was born in Callao and grew up in La Oroya in the 40s and 50s. My Dad, Ted Wright, went to C de P in 1924, straight out of Berkeley, and stayed until 1956. My Mom, Margie Wright, married my Dad in 1937, and I came along in 1939. We lived in Chulec 53, my sister Chris (Tinky) was born and we moved to Chulec 4 (?) several houses down from the hospital, and then to Mayupampa, where my sister Stephanie spent her first two years before we all packed up in 1956 and moved to "the States". Growing up in La Oroya was full of adventure, but safe, all ages played as a group, everyone was your parent, but they were all Mr. and Mrs., we took it for granted that there were servants in the house, but somehow we all knew that we lived a different life than those in "The States", and respected it.

Pat Vandel Simon and I were the only two in the eight grade in the Chulec school, and were the second class to graduate there in 1953. Mike and Richard Bemis and June Chancellor had preceded us. We both took off for the states, came back summers, and boy did we think we were the most sophisticated and grown-up teen-agers on earth! Of course, Leah's ...Mrs. Higg's, summer dance lessons helped, so we could look cool at the Inca Club parties. Pat and I have remained in close contact ever since, but I have had little contact with anyone else from La Oroya.

Now 50 some years later, three children and three grandchildren later, retired from a 30 year banking career, I am living in a gold mining town (fancy that!) in Grass Valley, Ca. with my companion of five years, Richard Fernandez. We had planned to go to Peru in 2002, and with all of this reconnection and resulting conversations, we did go back in July with both of my sisters and their husbands. It was wonderful! Unfortunately we were advised not to go up to Oroya due to political reasons. CdeP gringos aren't looked upon with great favor, and I guess the town has become quite sooty, grimy, and run-down. However, we went to Lima (a bit seedy, and has lost its luster), Paracas (still the same!), Cusco (wonderful), Machu Picchu (fantastic) and many small towns, like Pisac, Urabamba, and Pisco that had not changed. It brought us right back to our childhood. It was a very moving and wonderful trip.

What is really remarkable, after all of this time, are the many reconnections that Valerie's project has brought to my life. Valerie found me through my sister in Colorado, whom she found through Mark Mills, who had found my sister through a fellow who worked with her and was Mark's friend.

Whew...now, to top if off, it turned out that Valerie and I only live about 15 minutes from each other! Getting together with Valerie and her folks resulted in thinking of other possibilities, and since last February I have had dinner with Don Koropp, Mike Bemis (came out from WI and stayed a few days), Craig Wadke, and Dixon Clarke. I've talked to Johnny Moses, Margaret Moses Gat, and June Chancellor McConnell. Reliving childhood experiences with those you actually experienced them with has been a real gift. Reliving life in La Oroya with those I never knew while there, has been another joy. To really top this off, I received an e-mail one day from a gal I had hired to work for me about four years ago, who had just received "the" CdeP list, and found my name. This was Renee Walker Laffey, who had lived there, and we had never made the connection until this fall! I hope that 2003 will bring more reconnections and sharing of common experiences. Thanks to all of you who have contributed to this project, especially Valerie. Feliz Año Nuevo!

Suzie Wright Bergesen