Tale of Two Kings

Two men, worlds apart, exchanging royal gifts

7 min readDec 13, 2013

Journal: Oct. 1

I think we are all exhausted in both beautiful and meaningful ways as we weave through the small towns of the Andes Mountains en route to the city of Cusco where we will prepare to return home to America. It has been an incredible experience watching each member of this delegation offer individual talents in making a contribution to the small, poor community of Hueccouno this week, and to helping me gather footage for my documentary film. There is one story that I cannot seem put out of my mind as we make our way through the mountainside today. Sitting shoulder to shoulder and tightly packed with luggage, fruit boxes and camera equipment, I am hoping to be able to write out the story I am holding close to my heart.

Tale of Two Kings

This is the story of two kings. One, a white-collar corporate accountant living Seattle, Wash., and the other, a tribal leader of a Quico Qero village high in the Andes Mountains in Peru.

After our Saturday morning meeting at the Hueccouno ranch house with the Quico Qero leaders, I find David in the courtyard clutching a worn looped and corded rope. His head is bowed and he is tearful. We say goodbye to the village leaders and the weavers who have come sell their weavings and ropes to us. But I notice the rope David is holding is not new.

This is his story:

“Twelve years ago my father, James Jamieson, contracted cancer and struggled for several years,” David says. “I had taken a trip to Vienna and walked into a specialty shop where I found a pair of calfskin gloves lined with a very special soft lining and I bought them with delight. His hands were always cold and all he wanted was something to keep them warm.”

David tells me how his father loved the gloves and wore them every day for nearly three years until his death. “After Dad passed, my mother gave them back to me and I kept them on my dresser for years. Often, when I was feeling alone or missing him, I would put them on and it would help me feel close to him. I would look at my own hands wearing the gloves and remember fondly how he loved them and wore them to stay warm.”

David says that as he was packing for this trip to Peru, he was pulling a sweater from his top shelf and his father´s gloves fell to the dresser. He said the thought then occurred to him to bring warm gloves to the Quico Q’ero people who experience harsh weather conditions and cold winters including this worn and meaningful pair that belonged to his father. “As much as I love them, I knew that Dad would want me to use them for something like this.”

Leaders from the mountain

As we returned from our visit to Romario´s house Friday evening, we were greeted by leaders of the Quico Q’ero village who had trudged through snow and mud for more than 20 miles through steep terrain to meet with us. I saw David rush to his room as we were greeted by Presidente Miguel Quispe and his tribal council.

I became busy filming and photographing and I knew nothing else of what transpired until I met David in the courtyard the next day. David told me that when he heard the tale of Quico leaders´ exposure to the mountain weather with only sandals on their feet, he knew this was the time and place to deliver the gloves. He said he brought several types of gloves — snow gloves, ski gloves, mittens, driving gloves and the pair of calfskin gloves that had belonged to his father.

The gifting

“Vidal helped me translate as I gifted each pair of gloves to the men and they were appreciative and grateful,” he says. “I saved Dad´s for last because I wanted this pair to go to the leader of the tribe.”

David Jamieson of Seattle, Wash., holds a treasured gift given from a Q’ero tribal chief

David told me how he asked Vidal to explain to Presidente Quispe, “I know my father would want someone special to get some use out of this pair of gloves that were important to him as they are to me.” David describes how Presidente Quispe put them on, looked at them, smiled and nodded. “I know he was appreciative, but for me to give them was something very poignant to me and I thought perhaps that sentiment had been lost in translation.”

As the council leaders were preparing to leave the ranch house today to return to their mountain home, David says, “Presidente Miguel walked up to me and handed me a lama rope. I thought he was asking me to buy it from him so he could have money to return to his village, and then I realized he was giving it to me.” With a whisper, David explains, “In that moment I knew he understood the sentiment behind the gift of my father and his gloves. He had given me his handmade work rope, and knowing how little he truly has to give, and that he would have used it to go back up the mountain, his gesture completely undid me.”

“The fact that the rope was made by him and used by him touches me deeply and I will treasure it always,” David says. “There is part of him in this rope just as there was part of me in my father´s gloves.”

Two kings

This is when I realize that truly, this is a tale of two kings. These are two men of great heart and compassion for the once forgotten Quero people. They are men who labor and serve in their respective worlds, giving all they can to improving the lives of a humble people committed to surviving in their Andes Mountain homeland and to honoring the traditions of their fathers.

Says David, “I´ve always struggled with the imbalances in the world, and I can for the first time say that I can no longer stand people starving to death when there are many others in the world sitting down to a nice meal.” When I ask why he commits time and assistance as a board member of Heart Walk Foundation, he says, “There is something fundamentally wrong when there are people starving and freezing in the world, and my devotion to Heart Walk is how I´m choosing to do something about it.”

How a white-collar accountant has learned to make a difference

Holding a 50-hour-a-week job in Seattle, David adds, “I do what I can, but the fact of the matter is, we are probably not going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things. I give of my time and I come here and serve and do what I can do to help, and I love seeing the progress the Quero are making with their trout farms and greenhouses, but the real difference we are making is in our own hearts, and in the hearts of those we touch.”

“If we all commit to opening our hearts, then we are truly making progress,” he says. “And today, I leave knowing the memory of my father will carry on keeping Miguel’s hands warm as he continues to serve his people in the Andes Mountains. That is what I can do today.”

And to me, these are words of a king — a humble servant willing to reach across barriers of language, technology and culture, and who will travel long miles to peacefully treaty for the improvement of a people struggling to survive.