My mother, Victoria Valcarcel Arze, daughter of Julian Valcarcel Barnes and Trinidad Arze Aguilar, was born on December 23, 1927 in Puno Peru. When she was born, she tells me that her father was somewhat disappointed that he had a daughter instead of a son. That is when her uncle Jose Antonio said, “This little girl is going to be the queen of the house, so you must name her Victoria!” Victoria lived a pastoral life in Puno of which she has fond and nostalgic memories until she was eight years old. At the age of eight, her parents sent her to a French Catholic boarding school in Arequipa Peru called Los Sagrados Corazones (sacred hearts) de Arequipa. Her mother was an exemplary student at the same school. The nuns had high expectations for her, but they would be disappointed. Victoria always laughs when she talks about how she was mischievous but not “mal creada” (badly raised). She excelled at playing the piano. She tells me about how she had to play for the whole school. Afterwards, she was called up receive her bad grades. The mother superior looked at her disdainfully and said, “What an embarrassment.”
Victoria recounts how her family and friends were disconcerted by the good manners and etiquette she learned in the French boarding school.
When she was 18 years old, she went to the Lima, the capital, to study in the University. She began to work in social services and received a grant to travel around the United States. Her and my dad were both in Madison that summer (about 1955) but they did not meet. When she returned to Peru, she took a position in Trujillo as head of social services.
Her interactions with foreigners made her realize that she was not very familiar with her own country. People she met would often ask her about Machu Picchu, but she had never been there. She decided to visit Machu Picchu. On this fateful trip, on a train bound for Machu Picchu, she met my dad, Carl Widmer. She laughs as she tells the story about how my dad proposed to her with a dictionary in hand, “You seem like a very nice girl. How about if we get married.”
My dad promised to come back in a year to get married, and he did. My mother’s friends couldn’t believe what she was doing. “What did you say?” “I said ‘yes’.” “What if he doesn’t come back?” “Then I won’t get married. I’ll keep working. Simple.”
For a year they wrote letters to each other, and in June of 1958, my dad returned to Peru. My grandfather Julian was believed that my dad was a man of his word, and made him promise to bring my mother back to Peru from time to time, which he did in years to come.
In May of 1960, my brother Julian Pachacutec was born in Arcata California. In 1966, after many miscarriages, I was born in Bryan Texas. When I was only a couple months old, my family took a treacherous roadtrip back to California, where my dad took a position as a professor at University of the Pacific in Stockton. It is here where my first memories begin.
My mom was a housewife until about I was about in the sixth grade. She then obtained a masters degree and teaching credentials from UOP. She began teaching English as a second language to immigrants. In about 1981, my dad sold his tenure at UOP, and a year later was out of work. Parents moved to Fairfield CA, where my mom taught Spanish at Fairfield High School and at Solano community college. In 1983, Victoria’s first born son was killed in a hiking accident. A year later, her husband died of cancer.
During my years at UC Davis (1989-1991), my mother lived in Napa, CA. Sometime in the early 1990’s, my mother built a larger cabin in our property of Occidental Ca, and lived there alone until she moved in with my family in Oakland CA.
My mother Victoria Widmer is probably the most easy-going person I know. She is able to remain calm in the face of irate people. She is able to take a practical approach instead of a prideful response to people who trespass. She is a cheerful person who, perhaps too often, repeats the aphorism, “The time to be happy is now.” At the age of 85, she enjoys listening to classical music, as it seems to transport her to happy places in her life and to the people in her past. Her short term memory appears to be faltering, but she recalls her childhood, her father, my, dad, and my late uncle Edgar vividly. I will miss her when she is gone
When you were little – even before you were born – she had some amazing adventures with your dad. He loved exploring and always was dreaming of his next jaunt. I remember he persuade my mom let me to join him and Julian on a summer car trip down Pan American Highway to Peru. I was only about 13 or 14 and Julian was about 8. My mother was gob smacked, since the evening news oozed stories of guerilla hostage taking in Central America. The Pan Am Highway wasn’t not much of a highway at the time, either. In the end the idea never got legs, but I remember a few letters from your dad telling me that it would be the trip of a lifetime. I was inspired. I mean, how many kids in Battle Creek got an offer like that?
In 1969, I visited the four of you, and grandma Mary, in Stockton and spent an amazing two months snorkeling on Catalina, riding a freight train to Arcadia, hitchhiking to Carson City, catching a concert at the Fillmore and getting caught up in the People’s Park melee in Berkeley. We also took time to camp under the redwoods at the ranchito and do some work on the then partially built A Frame. Madness, but good madness.
It took a special wife to appreciate your dad’s enthusiasms. Aunt Vicky did. They were extremely well matched and their chance meeting on the train to Puno (as I recall) was what some would call fated. I remember your mom saying that Uncle Carl spent part of a summer there, then returned to his teaching job at Humboldt, but promised to return the next year. Your mom said her parents were as sure he wouldn’t be back as she was that he would. As so it was
Mi recuerdo especial de Tia Toya, Visite a Tia Toya en Occidental, era Agosto del 2000 y recuerdo con mucha ternura su afán por transmitirme su experiencia cuando ella llego a los Estados Unidos. Estábamos en la sala de su casa y de pronto sacó unos libros relacionados al tema y me comenzó a leer algunos pasajes que ella sentía yo debía escuchar. Gracias Tia Toya, te recuerdo con ternura y gratitud. Besos al cielo.
Sara Patricia Arze Quiroz
Estimado Ramón No te conozco en persona pero te envío mis mas sentidas condolencias. Soy Jaime hijo menor de Isabel la hermana de Trini y tía de Toya A tu mamá solo la vi muy pocas veces pero siempre con mucho cariño La última vez la visité en Occidental cuando estuve en San Francisco por una conferencia. Pasamos un lindo par de días hablando de recuerdos familiares sobretodo de mi abuela Fremiot a quien nunca conoci. Me llevo a ver los árboles secoyas y el Russian river. Me hablo mucho de ti y de tu hermano. Me recordaba mucho a mi mamá por su calidez y amabilidad. Nunca olvidare esos momentos pues nos reconocimos como parientes después de muchos años Creo que la vida no acaba solo se transforma y en ese misterio que no comprendemos guardo mi secreta pero firme esperanza en que nos volveremos a encontrar en una nueva Platería o en una nueva Occidental y retomaremos nuestra charla familiar a corazón abierto Recibe un fuerte abrazo y ojalá podamos encontrarnos también algún día La vida continúa!
Jaime
Ampy Se acuerda que cuando fue a visitarla a Occidental junto con Maria Teresa y sus hijos ella con mucho cariño las recibió en su casa llena de vida y Alegria les enseñó toda la propiedad - una anécdota que recuerda: salieron con comida (pedazos de carne) las que las puso sobre unas rocas y se entraron corriendo a la casa para mirar por la ventana lo que iba a pasar. Así derrepente observaron cómo vinieron los buitres y devoraron la carne. Para ellas fue une experiencia única.
Otra. En el sótano Toyita tenía su “wine cellar” al que llevo a Ampi para que escogiera que vino quería tomar, así en la comida ellas lo disfrutaron entre bocados de una comida deliciosa, conversation amena de recuerdos y chistes. Y ella como siempre muy alegre.
- con su forma de ser tan acogedora y cariñosa también Ampy se acuerda que la llevó a conocer los bosques “red forest” y toda la zona Del Valle de Napa. Que para Ampy fue una experiencia inolvidable.
MM - Ella era mi profesora y para que no crean que yo tenía alguna preferencia me dijo “ durante las clases yo soy Sra Widmer” me asustó ya no le podía decir “hola Toyita”
“Recuerdo que jugábamos con Toya las veces que podía salir en vacaciones, porque estaba en el internado de los Sagrados Corazones, íbamos de pequeñas a la casa de la abuela Juana Fremiot, que era mamá de Carlos Arze, y de Trini. Ella se sentaba en un gran sillón en el patio de su casaa , y nosotras Toya y Blanca, que tendríamos unos 13 o 14 años, a los pies de ella, para que nos cuente historias de la familia. Luego venían los chicos menores que jugaban en el patio principal de la abuela y jugábamos después hasta cansarnos.
También recuerdo que en Plateria hacienda de la abuela, cerca del distrito de Acora, que subíamos al cerro a buscar unas plantitas que crecían entre las peñas y cuya flor se podía chupar, pasábamos lindos días en Platería con Toya, era como mi hermana. Esto fue cuando tendríamos unos 18 o 20 años.”
This week's featured connections are Acadians: Victoria is 22 degrees from Joseph Broussard, 21 degrees from Louis Hebert, 23 degrees from Antonine Maillet, 24 degrees from Roméo LeBlanc, 24 degrees from Aubin-Edmond Arsenault, 25 degrees from Louis Robichaud, 25 degrees from Cleoma Falcon, 25 degrees from Rhéal Cormier, 24 degrees from Jack Kerouac, 25 degrees from Maurice Richard, 27 degrees from Ron Guidry and 27 degrees from Beyoncé Knowles-Carter on our single family tree. Login to see how you relate to 33 million family members.
Florida, Passenger Lists, 1898-1963 Source Info Immigration & Emigration Search First name: Victoria Last name: Widmer
See https://www.ancestry.com/search/collections/flpl/?name=Victoria_Widmer&name_x=1_1
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