Spanish Songs in Cusco - First Update from Gappers in Peru

So it’s officially three weeks we’ve spent in the Incaland, and the sleepy ol’ citadel has taken us on quite a ride! Taking us by the hand, he (decided Cusco is a masculine figue, don’t quite know why) slung us through five days of intense 4-hour spanish lessons which have gotten us past solely “can I have a coffee with milk?” to “yes, Australia is quite big and yes, there are many kangaroos”. But the tediousness was broken by fact we convinced Fernando, (best Spanish teacher, ever, period) to let us learn 5 spanish songs, when the quota was one a week. Awww yeah.
The Cusco nights are nothing like I’d imagined; admitedly, I had a preformed picture of little quiet cobblestone streets still in the chill night air, a completely different picture from the constant movement and colour of the days where vendors endlessly peddle their fantastic array of goods in the sunfilled streets; but if possible, night times match, if not overpower the chaos of the day: at every corner, there are atleast two clubs, and for every club, five promoters push free entry and drinks into your hands, and attempt to usher you to free salsa lessons or live reggae show either here or there; Mind the ice, tuck your wallet safely under your clothes and you can have a splendid eve out… our first night out saw us through several clubs and then on a late night maccas run, but not just any ordinary one: bottle-soccer with locals in the streets, singing “La Bamba” at the top of our little lungs to the Andean sky above, and giddy with a freedom so fresh and new in such a new place.
This same feeling I can wholeheartedly translate to our first day at Ccorao school… The weekend before on a tour of the Sacred Valley, we caught our first glimpse of the school, a collection of about four-five small buildings painted the same colour as the vivid sky you had to crane your neck to see above the mountains encircling us. I didn’t think I’d ever take this view for granted, though after spending two hours on collectivos and coaches each day, one way entirely standing, much like flying it has become just the slightest bit less enchanting. Though, still knocks my breath out every time I let my mind go blank and stare out the window..
I should describe you the mountains first, as they dooo make up the major part of our vista each day. Although they absolutely dwarf Uluru, and make Mt Kozci look like a plum pip, I can only describe them as, casual. Just a casual cousin of Mt Everest, gently leaning over the tiny ant houses and farms below stretching almost halfway up its length, sun peeking over his shoulder, and wrapped in a thin brown twine of road we would follow around and down into the valley. As we popped out of the bus, one by one, poor Jack (007), Will and Adrian with a little more difficulty than the rest, the tall souls, we filed in through the giant front metal gate, to stand open mouthed at the little magical world behind it… it was odd, and it wasn’t just my wild imagination getting in the way of things, colours truly did seem more vivid; a couple dogs and a family of chickens wandered freely among the vermillion green grass uninhibited by the kids running round, and playing over by a small lagoon and a brightly painted metal playground, and there was a ridiculous amount of butterflies, I tells ya. Before heading to our “staff room”, a teeny quarter where we put our bags for the day, we were lined up and sat down across from the 150 students, and each year brought a little performance before us, like a poem or dance… but the most mind blowing moment was when every single student launched our way greeting us by a huuuge bear hug from the more confident, or a little hello from the shy, pressing flowers in our arms and throwing confetti (pica pica!) in our hair. Me and Clarissa sitting next to me, could do nothing but endlessly thank and laugh till our cheeks hurt. It completely slipped our minds that these kids are only able to pay 5 soles a year, equivalent to about 2 aus dollars, and that school is actually they’re one getaway; at home, they help out with the family work, usually in agriculture and get little spare time to just be kids.
I couldn’t waaait to get stuck into teaching, but the week ended up starting with construction; our group, turns out raised about $9000! :D Firstly, this money is going to the maintenance of the trout farm built by last years volunteers to give the school an income, and secondly, to finishing a building which will become both a place to sell them and a mini restaurant, which we’re doing now! In our first two weeks we’ve cleared the sides, hammered bamboo ceilings and window frames, and plastered ceilings while the cutest puppy in the world, the skinny little Pocho, darts under the wooden boards we balance on. Though of course, not on our lonesome with Pocho; we’re watched under the hawk eye of the wiry old builder Cosme, whom I actually feel a little bad for sometimes; the language barrier isn’t even necessary to overcome on seeing Cosme’s friendly mocking smile, when you fling a chunk of plaster at the ceiling and see the large part of it slop back down, usually on your head (me being a prime example). But we’re learning, every time we’re dropped into a new situation, which seems to be more times that I can count, we become a little faster. And though we get quite gung-ho about finishing a job, it’s hilarious to see everything stop for the most immature things; the Invisi-man created with Jack’s gloves gets us every time, he’s a bit of a local celebrity now..

Now, I’ve never seen myself becoming a primary school teacher, or teacher of any sort in that matter, but I’ve fallen in love with the job a little bit…
Me and my partner in crime Charlotte’s schedule, with our year 4 class, goes as so:
Mondays, Computers
Tuesdays, Computers and Sport
Wednedays & Thrudays, Construction
and Friday, Art & English

There is no syllabus for us to follow, so it’s up to our own lesson plans to fill these beautiful kids heads up with useful stuff! Our first lesson began with introducing ourselves, recieved as “Miss Mitch-elle” and “Miss Char-loch”, and learning our 15 cheeky kids names (no easy feat, I tell you!), and finishing with art; making rabbit masks of course! Never been so exhausted, mentally and physically, though it gets easier as time goes on… hopefully by the end of three months we can teach these kids more than tunnelball, “whiskers” and “ears”… though cannot even describe the feeling when they actually remember vocabulary from the lesson before!

one third down, two to go!