The duality of Peru: between islands of affection and a system that disappoints.

Arriving in Peru is always a journey filled with emotions, especially when landing at Jorge Chávez Airport. The cold, cloudy night when I arrived contrasted sharply with the bright sunny afternoon that welcomed me in La Punta, a place that, like many others in our country, exudes a sense of belonging and nostalgia. The warmth of memories, the rich gastronomy, and the natural beauty are the essence of what I call "islands of affection and tenderness," spaces where we can take refuge from the daily tumult and find moments of peace and joy. However, this feeling of warmth intertwines with the pressure of a political reality that often resembles a nightmare. In a national context where challenges often present themselves in a surreal and almost criminal manner, the mental well-being of citizens is put to the test. While we converse in our affectionate islands, we also tend to the wounds of a system that seems unable to grasp the true needs of the people. Frustration becomes palpable in conversations with friends who share the same disillusionment. Reality becomes even more painful when we see how the institutions we should trust are undermined by corruption and injustice. A former president who humiliated us receives a lifetime pension, while other political figures, like a former leader who seems to lose herself in her own words, continue to defy logic with absurd claims. It is clear that those in power do not understand the daily struggle for health, security, and the well-being of citizens. Instead of providing concrete answers, they feed off fictional narratives and empty promises. This disconnect between the government and the citizenry only intensifies discontent and perpetuates a cycle of injustice and suffering. Nevertheless, amid this adversity, it is essential to remember that hope is a vital engine for progress. Howard Zinn, in his book "You Can't Be Neutral on a Moving Train," reminds us that our lives are defined not only by cruelty but also by the compassion and kindness that have characterized humanity throughout history. This duality is key to finding the strength we need to act in the present, without waiting for a utopia that will likely never arrive. It is in moments of gathering and connection, like shared meals with dear friends, where we find the breath to continue fighting. The last time I spent time with my friend Teresina Muñoz-Nájar, a staunch advocate for women's rights, served as a reminder that there are people tirelessly working for positive change. Her recent book, "Valientes: mujeres del bicentenario," is a call to action and a celebration of the women who have shaped the history of our country. The islands of affection and tenderness are not just temporary refuges; they are also spaces where alliances are forged and ideas cultivated that can transform our reality. These small initiatives, while they may seem insignificant, are the bricks that build a fairer and more equitable future. If everyone contributes their grain of sand, there will be no need to wait for radical change: the future is built on every action we take today. Thus, as we bid farewell to our islands, we carry with us the commitment to be agents of change. History teaches us that every present is full of possibilities, and living according to our principles and values is the true victory. In honor of those who came before us and those who continue the fight, the path toward a brighter tomorrow will largely depend on our ability to unite and act with courage and determination. Therefore, I conclude this reflection by remembering that every small gesture of love and resistance is a step forward. The dedication of "Valientes" to the extraordinary women who have bequeathed us their strength is a tribute to their struggle and an impetus to continue the journey toward equity and respect. In the history of our country, neither corruption nor disillusionment can erase the footprints of those who have fought for a better Peru.