COUNTRY: Peru
PROGRAM: GapBreak
PROJECT: Teaching & Building
WRITTEN BY: Ollie Lotz
Pickaxes, confetti, sand, stone and sweat. Have i got your attention? Unsurprisingly, the first two weeks with our families and new favourite school, Ccorao, have been exciting. Here’s the details.
Monday saw us vaguely introduced to the construction project we´ll be working on, which, interestingly enough, began with destruction. The mudbrick wall made by previous ¨Antips¨ just wasn´t sturdy enough, so we had to dig it up and lay down some decent foundations with good ol´ cement glue. Two important lessons came of those first days wielding pick axes: firstly, that they are a simple tool, leagues beyond a shovel, and should stay out of humans, and secondly, that the Lion King soundtrack provides excellent motivation for heaving boulders out of trenches.
About half the area of the school is gnarly scrub punctuated by deep veins in the soil implying a considerable flow of water when it floods in the wet season. We were told that our wall was going to help protect against the damage that commonly occurs as a result of this. However, something about the wall being almost perpendicular to the stream gave us doubts. So after more prodding, Arlich elaborated that it will also be to imprison the children.
Having a clear purpose, our drive was rekindled. After a few days things started making more sense: mud bricks appeared, bags of cement followed them, and our Peruvian co-workers Hector and Cosme started to mix the powder with the gravel we´d been wheelbarrowing around. Suddenly, the stone foundations acquired layers of cement between further stones, and, believe it or not, the wall has begun to look like one. On a side note,¨Mona kulky¨ is Quechua for I love you, if we can trust our fellow construction workers. Parents will be happy to hear that while the novelty and warm fuzzy glow will see us through this placement, this manual labour is great motivation for university. There´s no way I want to do this all my life. Our first week was taken up thusly, save for our first Tuesday, and all the time inbetween classes in the second.
So what happened on that first tuesday? Our ¨Bienvenida¨ to the school. Without Arlich to hold our hands we showed up that second morning and were directed into a line of seats on the basketball court, facing the entire school organised into nice rows. The principal made a speech to welcome and introduce us, though we are by no means the first Antips to stumble their way. The grade 2´s then presented us each with a flower, sometimes plural, and a shy mumble.
As a contrast, the horde of year 6´s galloped along and rubbed confetti in our hair. The guys among us were treated more generously in this regard. Finally, we were hugged individually by all the students, roughly 120, and then the teachers for that familiar cherry on top. I think I can safely say we were all overwhelmed by the ordeal.
Our first taste of ¨teaching,¨ if I may be so bold, began last monday after finally receiving our schedules. Everyone has three lessons of an hour and a half in groups of three consisting of English, Sport and Art. Anna, Charlotte and I survived the first lesson reasonably well I think, with previously unconsidered, but important factors becoming obvious, such as attention span.
The first hour was spent happily drawing individualised name tags for our sake, and an assortment of their favourite things. But, as you´d expect, a mob of year 2´s gets antsy after a while, so we spent the last half hour outside with games like Bullrush. To our great relief, the teacher, Ruth, seemed contented as well. Jasper and his ¨companeros¨ were not so fortunate. The principal gave them a drilling for not having worksheets prepared appropriate to their class´s level, despite having been given no information about just that.
It seems that with each lesson the systems and expectations approach manageable, so I´d discard any initial bumps along the way as just that. Myles has certainly slid well into the groove of his dream job, teaching P.E. The last thing I have to mention on this topic, for the moment at least, is Mackenzie´s affinity for inspiring the tribal adulation of the boys. They love to take his name as their own and copy his unique way of grunting it. Similarly, the girls flock to particular members of our group, desperate to hold hands and rub shoulder to knee... whatever works.
And how are these strangers treating your darlings? There´s no denying that we all began with some awkward moments, limited communication options exacerbating cultural differences. Julz has had to repeat more than a few times that she has an ¨estomago pequeno¨ to limit the generous amount of food we all seem to be presented with. There is a heavy lean towards carbs and potatoes.
We´re all located roughly around a basketball court in the same neigbourhood, Santa Marta, which is only two stops further than our previous weeks accommodation. The warm welcome has lasted thus far, despite our faults, which you know all too well, though some children have a tendency to spit, and access to scissors that should be more carefully considered. I also can´t let it slip by that we´ve been having more cold showers than Orlando Bloom would need in jail. However, I am genuinely surprised, and grateful for, the general standard of living we have here, not to even mention at home. Electricity, privacy, clean beds, no leaks, nor noisy neighbours, at least not human, washing, and finally access to necessities, which may or may not include munchies.
The group has stayed healthy generally speaking, with the ¨clinic count¨ being brought up to three by Rachel and Charlotte, who are both fine now. We´ve also done a considerable amount of sightseeing, mainly to utilise the multipass we bought for access to Saqsayhuaman. On the sunday after our last correspondence we visited Pisac, impressive for our first sighting of maintained terrace farming and mountaintop settlement. The markets were also thoroughly enjoyed, adding to the collection of colourful items sneaking into our wardrobes.
During the week some of us also visited a selection of Cusco´s museums, from the Regional Historical to the Contemporary art. Whether this has made us more cultured or not is a decision I leave to you. On the friday Arlich was kind enough to organise a bus to tour us through a few birds with one one very large, petrol driven stone. Chinchero brought us a short demonstration of cloth dyeing, the remains of a colonial church, and this blog´s fun fact: they use the blood of a small insect for bright reds, as it yields about a litre per drop.
Next was Moray, a series of roughly oval rings of agricultural tiers leading down to a central charred piece of earth, all surrounded by hills that make viewing convenient. The theory is that the Inkas were experimenting with the effects of different climatic conditions, temperature and sunlight, on their crops, but who knows. Naturally, we wandered down to the bottom and took part in a prayer to ´Pacha Mama,´ Mother Earth, led by a tour guide. He clearly wasn´t ´doing it right,´ so we lay in a ring of connected feet for the ´real deal´ once the tourists had cleared.
Following this, we visited the salt ´mines,´ which are basically a variation on tiered agriculture that dribbles water through square evaporation basins in the hillside from which salt is dug and sold. Novel, and oh yeah, they have no idea where the salt comes from. Finally, we stopped in Ollantaytambo, which was apparently just an elaborate resting place on the way to Macchu Picchu. Naturally, no quick sit down would be complete without it´s own farms, defenses, and temples. Arlich, during a quite emotional description of Peru´s loss upon Spanish conquest, posed this question, ¨You know how many people they take to transport just one of these stones?¨ After some shared glances at each other and the mountain ex-quarry opposite he informed us, ¨Many.¨ Despite some stones weighing tons, they were apparently only moved by people, ropes, and a lot of lubrication.
Ah yes, Mackenzie´s birthday. Conveniently placed on a saturday night we headed out in all our finery, Beginning the night at Wild Rover´s for their happy hour. It was at this stage we began to pick up extras, which included Dane and his fellow Queenslander, Tim, and the legendary Mark. The details of this night are better left to memory and a few sly flashes of the disposable camera, but it included Ronny´s bar with their syringe shots and dice, have no fear, nothing was injected, and ´Inka Team´ with Rachel´s glitter gun. The plan was apparently to get onto the balcony facing the dance floor, shower us with delightful colour to the rhythm of our favourite beats and ¨just be like, I am God,¨ but no one noticed her act of divine inspiration, many questioning if it ever happened at all, perhaps a subtle message. I also have to note Mackenzie´s presents were lip-smacking good, made up of specialist ice cream, a pink pouting mask, and more...
Well that all sounds fine, but how is Cusco itself? We seem to have about 3-6 hours of summer during the days and then double-jumper-winters at night. I can´t top my predecessors description of the landscape, which went something along the lines of ¨It´s as if a valley has been scooped out of the mountains and civilization poured in.¨ I will elaborate though. At least a quarter of the buildings seem unfinished, as if money had run out halfway through a boom, or concrete shells were the actual goal to begin with. Most cars are of the sort discarded and forgotten by the West decades ago, but you have to remember, these are the rich.
For me, the greatest sign of struggle is not the shabby plaster or other common signs of poverty, but the omni-present dust. The mountains seem to breathe the stuff, leaving the residents inbetween little choice but to ignore it. The center, obviously contains the most touristy sights and prices, which we´d still consider cheap, but I´ve seen sandwiches for 1 sol and rice and sugar sold for 2.50, basically a dollar. Furthermore, if you go for the locally bountiful products it can even more incredible, with tomatoes at 1 sol or 40 cents a kilo at a market down from us.
Transport standards also seem worth a mention. Firstly, everything’s built for smaller people, so Myles has no chance of keeping his head and knees safe for too long. Secondly, we´re sometimes forced to wonder if these people did their driving tests on a playstation.
We’re yet to crack the previous group´s record for cramming people into a taxi, but the blueprints are in the works. On a related note, I´ve got to say, there’s something soothing about watching cobblestones slip away from the boot of a taxi.
The two stand out quotes of the fortnight unmentioned thus far come from Julz with the brilliant Spanglish ¨Can i tambien have a small coke,¨ and Jasper´s handy description of the club Mama Africa, ¨It´s just like mythology, but not as seedy¨
Finally, I must give you a rundown of our weekend trip to Huacachina, an oasis reknowned for beauty, sand boarding, and being full of gringos. We took an 18 hour bus trip with more winds than an epileptic snake both ways for the low price of 70 Soles. Thanks to the bus company, Flores, we had dinner, breakfast and three action movies without plots included. Reviews say ¨surprisingly good,´ and ¨I´m happy to be alive.¨ Book now!
Friday was spent lazing by the pool, lagoon, climbing the sand dune behind our hostel for sunset, and then topped off by a literally empty disco before a city wide blackout around 11pm. This afforded us a great view of the stars and the motivation to crash a poolside campfire party next door. Saturday´s main activity was a combined sunset dune buggy ride and sand boarding experience offered by our hostel and just about everyone with training wheels.
When it came to the dunes Michelle seemed up for anything, putting a few of us to shame. The standouts included Myles, and Jasper who were obviously putting some snowboarding experience to good use. Balancing became alot easier once you accepted that an attempt to turn would rip you out of your velcro bindings. We all took home more sand than was comfortable in places that are better left alone. Worth it! Sunday brought half of us on a boat tour of the Ballestas islands, nicknamed ¨The poor man´s Galapogas.¨ The guide claimed that on one hillside alone nested 60,000 Peruvian Boobies, a claim more than credible when you see the amount of wings, beaks, and guano covering the islands. The sea lions were also a crowd pleaser, not to mention the miniature penguins playing the ¨cute card.¨
So what´s next on the horizon? Anna´s birthday, horse riding, a local soccer game, a festival in the Sacred valley and an endless supply of mud bricks. What´s not to like?
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