I remember everything that happened before, during and after that dark night of November 1997. To me, it seems this was just yesterday. I wish you could just listen without judging me. For, I am the toughest judge on myself and the cross that I carry on my back forever has gotten just heavier with time. I have some silly consolations in my life and the best is that at the end of times, nothing will matter anymore because we all will h

This is the true story that happened to my family in the mountains of Peru in the evening of November 9th, 1997. Perhaps my twisted mind may have changed some details, maybe my delusion has invented things that were not there. But to the best of my knowledge, what I say is the truth, as I have nothing to hide. Maybe it is difficult to remain objective without turning emotional . I am not looking for pity, and as surreal as my story may sound, it's the true story that happened to me and my family on that dark day of November 1997.

My dad had recently bought a new car (a Hyundai Galloper) and he was eager to go to places to try his new car. I believe his car had less than 3,000 km on the odometer at the time the accident happened. The Galloper was a car made by the Korean Hyundai and it was a licensed copy of a first generation Mitsubishi Pajero (launched in 1982). However, the price was much lower than a Mitsubishi, something that my parents could not afford. Certainly, Hyundai would never tell you what were the limitations of the Galloper in comparison to the original Mitsubishi and we never knew if the car was even safe.
Manufacturers like Hyundai seemed to promote themselves as safety innovators. For example, placing a bar inside the door, would make them advertise their cars as collision safe. This advertisement sometimes leads the consumer to false perceptions of safety. What about ventilated disk brakes or ABS brakes? What about airbags? Certainly this car had none of that. But in a country like Peru, new cars have been always extremely expensive. This, tog


Now you must understand that my family has never been rich. They are a struggling middle class family coming from very humble origins. So buying a new car is something that couldn't be taken lightly (as I am sure is probably the same thing in many families).
Doomsday (The Catastrophic visit)
Earlier during the week that this event happened, a distant relative had visited my dad's garage to have his car checked. He was going to make a trip to the Andes city of Huancayo because his godchild would take her first communion. My dad, eager to travel with his new car, decided to join t

The Road Huancayo is a small city in the middle of the Central Peruvian Andes at an altitude of about 3,270 meters above sea level. If you are unfamiliar with the way to Huancayo, Huancayo is reached from Lima by taking the Central Highway (named "Carretera Central" or "Central Highway") and then taking the detour to Huancayo at the mining town of La Oroya. The distance between Lima and Huancayo is about 300 km, which can be covered by car in around 5 hours 30 minutes more or less.
The "Central highway" is a 2-lane road (single lane on each direction) so do not think of it as a large highway. If you begin your trip in Lima, the road goes uphill to the East following the path of the Rimac river which flows downhill on its way to the Pacific Ocean. Near the origin of the river, the road reaches the pass of Anticona in Ticlio (over 4,900 meters above sea level). From there, after crossing the slopes of the top mountains, the road follows a quick descent following the path of the Mantaro river, which flows to the east, and passes through the mining town of La Oroya. From La Oroya, the road diverts. One road (to the south) heads to Huancayo; the other heads to Cerro de Pasco and the rain forest.


I am not a civil engineer, but I think you do not need to be a rocket scientist to agree that the design of this road (and many others in Peru) is quite limited in terms of safety. Running parallel to the road, on the sides, the driver will encounter uncovered ditches (canals) that are to vacate water from the rain. Don't get me wrong, the ditches aren't missing their respective covers. They have been designed to stay this way, which is uncovered. The road contains sharp turns, dark tunnels, steep climbs (and steep down hills), several bridges (to cross from one side of the creek to the other) and also, the signaling is poor. Safety guards are scarce. In most of the road, to one side, the driver will face a cliff and to the other side, the face of the mountains. Because this is the only asphalted road connecting the capital to the central part of Peru, it is congested with buses, heavy trucks, vans and cars. So in many parts of the road, drivers will face heavy trucks moving slowly. Since this is only a 2 lane road, passing can be troublesome. The road does not have passing lanes, so passing is done strictly by invading the incoming traffic lane, which if you are headed east, you must do uphill. Also, the road passes through small towns with homes that are always placed to both sides of the road. This is perilous since the drivers may often encounter slow local traffic, objects, debris, pedestrians and children, vehicles parked on the sides of the road, street vendors and unmarked speed bumps on the road. It must be mentioned that pedestrians can be very hazardous in Peru (negligent). Drivers will also encounter tricycles powered by a motor engine, wagon carts (human-powered or motor-powered), mules and donkeys on the road.


The Trip We left Lima on early Sunday morning November 9th, 1997 around 1:00am and drove all night to the mountain city of Huancayo. We took the "Central Highway" as this is the only road to go the central mountains. The weather was fine. There was no rain and there was some moonlight. The road was free of debris and because it was late, the ongoing and incoming traffic were very scarce. My dad drove most of the way and I drove part of the way. We made one short stop around the Huascacocha lagoon right before sunrise. Sunlight hit us shortly before reaching La Oroya. Shortly after passing the detour to the town of Jauja, we saw an accident. A person had been hit by a car and killed. Because this happened in a place where there were houses at the sides of the road, many people were outside as curious watchers (most likely, something so common in sub-developed countries). Upon arrival to Huancayo, we noticed yellow flowers in a garden that adorned a welcoming sign to the city. My mom was happy to see those flowers which she said were so beautiful. We arrived to Huancayo around 7:30am and went to the store-house of Mr. Watanabe where HS was staying. The daughter of Mr. Watanabe was receiving her first communion and HS and his mother drove their older black Jeep Cherokee for this event (since as I said earlier, HS was the godfather). The first communion was held on Saturday, so HS had made the trip on Friday afternoon. The first Mr. Watanabe (the father of Mr. Watanabe) was an older Japanese immigrant from Fukushima, Japan and had settled in this Andean town (3,500 meters above sea level) over 50 years ago.

Because it was still early when we arrived, my dad parked the car nearby and then went to see them. He returned shortly and decided to have breakfast at a restaurant around a nearby plaza. At that time, the plaza's statue was under repair. We had fresh milk and fresh bread with locally made cheese. My mom bought some extra cheese to bring home. She placed the cheese inside a cooler. By the time we had finished breakfast, the sun was shining outside.
We drove back to the home of Mr. Watanabe. At that time, around 9:00am, there was a local parade that passed through the street in which Mr. Watanabe's store is located. My mom regretted that we did not take any pictures of this, because the local people were wearing their traditional costumes and were dancing to music and a folkloric marching band. Then we walked to a nearby street market, on the way there, there was some construction going on the streets, so many streets were closed and it was a bit difficult to walk. My mom was looking to buy some Indian souvenirs because my elder sister was having her first baby and my mom would visit her during her delivery (in the US). She bought an Indian hat, socks and mittens as souvenirs for her coming grandchild. My mom was very excited; as I can imagine all grandparents would be so she was planning how to do about her coming grandchild. However, on the way back to the store, my mom felt sick from the altitude. So she sat in the car. At that time, I remember I had a disagreement with my dad, whose demanding character was always a constant reason for me to fight. My mom told me that she would like me to one day, not fight with my dad. She said that my dad could never change his way but that the best way for me was maybe to keep quiet and calm. She said to me that she would be happy if there was peace. Maybe I was too immature (and I still am), but I just couldn't understand why my dad would always want to oppress me (something that happens most likely without him knowing). Later Mr. Watanabe and HS came out and it was decided to go to Ingenio for lunch. Ingenio is a trout farm and is nearby. We drove this distance but first stopped to put some fuel. After arriving to Ingenio, first we visited the farm and then walked to the restaurant. The restaurant was set in a rural atmosphere, it was open (no walls), the floor was made of cement and the chairs were made of osier. The weather was fine, sunny but a bit chilly. We sat along a long table, 10 or 11 people including kids. Since this restaurant was part of the trout farm, we had trout for lunch. I took pictures for my mom with her camera (a camera that my sister had given her) so she could show my sister later. I didn't know these would be the last pictures taken of my mom.


At this time, there was traffic on the road and there was sunlight. The truth is that I could not keep the pace with HS. He was speeding; I didn't know the road well and moreover, I didn't feel safe to go faster. Perhaps the car wouldn't go faster either. But we were going in a caravan so I tried my best to follow him. Between the Jauja detour and La Oroya, there was a highway patrol police standing. However, the traffic kept going and so did we. Most of the way, we could not follow the car of HS. He was going too fast (I estimate he was driving at speeds near 140 kph in parts of the road). So for most of the way back, I would lose sight of him. When we arrived to Ticlio (the highest point in the highway), we found HS waiting for us. When he saw us, he proceeded but he didn't slow down, he continued at his own pace. From Ticlio to the west, the road goes downhill, in many parts in a steep downhill zig zagging mountains. So the driving may become dangerous.


The car went off the road straight and it was propelled out of the highway. No signs, no fences were placed at this curve and it was difficult for a driver to see the road ahead. My dad woke up and I just heard screams as the car went off the road and down a cliff to the river creek. Propelled by the parallel groove running along the road, the car flew into the abyss. The car went down flipping several times, hitting the side of the cliff and down to the river. The time was about 7:00pm. And it was dark outside.
When I woke up, I said aloud "Don't worry! I am gonna save you all". I got out of the car and I saw the wheels were still turning, the car flipped on its rooftop which seemed destroyed. I climbed up to the road to look for help but I could not find anybody to help. I went back down and I got my mother out of the car. I had to cut the seat belt with a piece of glass from the shattered windows. She had a severe cut on her forehead, as if something had hit her head. At that time, deep inside I knew, that there was nothing that could be done to save my mom. Two men came to help me from the road and together we took my mom to the side of the highway. I tried to revive my mom but nothing happened. A small bus going up saw us and stopped. I asked him to bring us to San Mateo but he said he was going up (East) and that the town of Matucana was closer. I begged him to tell the police about the accident and to look for help. I do not know if my brain was working well. But somehow I had the strength to leave my mom and go down to the car again to rescue my dad and aunt. He had regained some consciousness and my aunt was screaming about her pain. She had broken some ribs and perforated her lungs, so she could not breathe well. My dad told me that my mom was fine because she was moving her leg. But I think this couldn't be possible. My aunt was rescued next. At this time, an elder lady and her son stopped to help. They were determined to help me. Her son turned her bright headlights so we could be able to see well. This Chinese-Peruvian family, whom later I will know better, helped me get my dad out of the car and a police pickup truck passing nearby, took my aunt to the nearby hospital at Matucana. This lady and her son did everything they could to help and stayed with me until I reached the hospital in Lima.


My dad was complaining about his leg, as his leg at the hip had dislocated. A small bus going west had stopped and out of the drivers' nobility, offered to bring my dad down to the hospital at the nearby town of Matucana. This was the most difficult moment in my entire life. Should I abandon my own mother right there at the side of the road? Shall I ignore my aunt and dad and just let the hospital take care of them? If you are familiar with the hospitals in many parts of Peru, they are simply below par. They do not have the basic services to treat people, less to save lives. And usually the doctors are trainees. I don't know how I left my mother right there, her lifeless body in the dark side of the road. I should have stayed there with her until the last minute. I don't know how, but I told myself clearly that there was nothing I could do to save my mom, but that I could still save my other family members. I kissed my mom goodbye and told her I am sorry. I knew she was gone, her hands were so cold. I went inside the bus with my dad. But what if I had taken my mother to the hospital, would she have had any chances? Was she dead? But, I felt how her body temperature dropped drastically and her body became cold. And I know she wasn't breathing, and I know her cut was so severe that there was an indentation on her skull. How could anyone survive this? It is just not possible. So I want to think that it was my mother, who told me to go take care of the rest.

When I left, the site of the accident was full of curious people. Many cars had stopped around. Curious


Moments later, a policeman came and interrogated me in the hospital lobby and took all my information. He asked me for my drivers license but I had left my wallet with my foreign driver's license inside the car. I had not a single dime in my pocket and I told the policeman to please do not allow my mother's purse to be lost. He asked me if there was any money inside, and I said, yes, like 500 soles (or about 200 usd). He said, "if it gets lost, it gets lost, it is not a lot of money anyways" ("si se pierde que importa, ni siquiera es mucho dinero"). I also told him that inside the car was a camera with the last pictures of my mom. I told him this



My two sisters were called by an uncle (the brother of HS) and told that we had a serious accident and that my mom had been injured. When she received a second phone call, my sister asked my uncle to tell her the truth. Both my sisters took a flight the next morning. That night I stayed with my cousin. The next morning I went to the hospital to see my dad and he already knew what had happened. I cried.




Afterthoughts Until today, more than 10 years later, I remember absolutely everything with clear details. Time just won't let me forget what happened that night. My heart won't let me forget. So I know deep inside that one mistake of mine, cost my mom her life. And God knows that if I could take it all back, I would give my life happily for my mom in the flash of a second. I wouldn't think twice, I would not

I know that the roads down there are not safe. I know that most people care about anyone else but themselves. I know that people there live in a “me first” culture. And certainly HS didn’t care much about us. Not only did he lie to everybody about his whereabouts while I was rescuing my parents and my aunt, but also he contributed to the cause of the accident. Should we not have caravanned with him, or should he have slowed down when he saw that we couldn’t follow up, maybe I wouldn’t have had to regret the loss of my mom. Maybe if he hadn’t flashed me with a pirate rear headlight, nothing would have happened. But so many ifs do no good anymore. My mom has been dead for more than 10 years and during all this time I have often lived my life lamenting what happened. It is easy for many to say “you need help”, “live your life”, “move on”, “don’t be silly”, “your mom wouldn’t want you to be like this”, “don’t be immature”, “grow up”, “you sound like ..”, “don’t try to be a hero”, “contribute to society”, “don’t hate that person”, etc. But I think they got it all wrong. But again, they have not been through any similar experience and I wish they never have to go through the same I did ever. I do not live my life hating anyone and I do not want the pity of anyone. But I'm also eternally grateful to my family. I am grateful to my uncle "Cholo", for rescuing my mom. And to the elder lady, for showing me that in the most difficult moments in life, there are angels that come from the sky. And dad, I am sorry. I know you loved my mom very much. I never meant to hurt you and our family this way.

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