COUNTRY: Peru
PROGRAM: GapBreak
PROJECT: Teaching & Building
WRITTEN BY: Ollie Lotz
We can just see it now. Not the Grim Reaper, but some half cousin twice removed calmly waiting in the corner with his calendar and a thick black felt-tip marker, blotting out each day as it passes, adjusting his stained crocs. Two weeks left, a trek to Machu Picchu that promises to be amazing...ly wet, and then what? We split up, after all this time. No more big brother company looking over us. No more Peruvian primary kids. Is there life after placement? Yes. Yes, there is. But we´re not there yet, so:
First, the achievement. Dr Victor has been all on his lonesome this fortnight. I hope the nurses know how to comfort him, because it looks like we might just ride the last doses of antibiotics, and our fragile immune systems, through to the end of the placement without seeing him again. Maybe.
The secondary volunteer project, of fixing up a badly built greenhouse, has begun. Adding more poles for support, sawing them to size, fitting more durable plastic on, and plonking a door in are all just part of the fun. Classes continued as they´ve always run, a puddle of glue, some equally mispronounced English and Spanish, a few smiles, and a dash of chaos. However, there was an idea for art so successful that it had to be copied. It just had to. The idea was to get the class to collectively draw a city, and then, on display, they could admire their contribution to a relatively impressive whole. So, we got them to personalise a section of a mountain-lake landscape traced over 20 pages. Both worked surprisingly well when put back together. Tip of the hat.
In the first week there was the school´s anniversary celebration, lasting the whole day, and involving all the kids in various roles. To begin with, a priest led them through a few songs, and explained a disturbing amount about the inferno. Lovely. Then we moved on to some poetry, all of it seeming to bear the title ´Mi escuelita linda´-My lovely little school, or ´Por que me encanta mi escuelita´-why i love my little school. There were some quite interesting local dances by a few year groups across the board. The year 1 and 2s donned colourful costumes to mimick birds and subtle courting rituals in circles and lines to the soundtrack of eagles screeching above thumping drums. Year 6s had the boys dressed along the lines of what we´d consider appropriate for Siberian guerilla fighters. White all over, fur anklets, carrying poles, and ski masks complete with mustachioed devil faces. The dancers all seemed very proud of the opportunity given them. Quite the experience.
More than half the group went to Arequipa and the Colca Canyon in one way or another. Mackenzie, Ruby, Henry, and Trish decided to rough it for the cheap. With tents, sleeping bags, and food in their backpacks they started hiking around the canyon by themselves. Apparently it was very rewarding. The other volunteers who went spent the weekend in Arequipa first. We burned through the city block sized Monastery of Santa Catalina and the Cathedral on the main plaza in a morning, but lost our chance to see Juanita, the ´ice princess.´ What we did learn, via our guides and some spartan quarters was how incredibly...strict the Spanish Catholics were. I feel that some cursing is required to impress upon you the degree, but I´ll refrain. For example, novices spent a year locked in their quarters, passing all food, waste, and conversation through a small window. That´s being generous. Their only contact with other humans was more along the lines of religious instruction. ´Nada mas.´
But Arequipa´s nice. Many buildings are of sillar, a white volcanic stone found nearby. Oddly enough, it´s not just the stone. El Misti, still active, looms over their postcards quite dramatically too. The city´s also known for its gastronomy. The volunteers indulged.
On Sunday we took the opportunity for white water rafting and, with our guide Ramiro, learned a whole new type of charades best reserved for adults. His limited English necessitated the use of flailing hand motions, mock screaming and alot of ´motherf****!´ to describe the coming rapids. That night we stumbled into a procession for the Senor De los Milagros festival, quite a sombre affair. In this country there´s always something on.
So, Colca. An early rise and a long bus ride on Monday got us ready for the first, and perhaps the most dramatic attraction the canyon has to offer. It´s a viewing platform called ´El Cruz del Condor,´ dubbed so for the likelihood of seeing the massive bird, as a result of the sheer height. Colca is known for being one of the deepest canyons in the world, 3000m, and from this vantage point you can understand why. From our ledge you could look up and see crags soaring as impressively as anywhere in the Alps, but then you look down, and it´s the same again, but in the form of a jagged ravine carved by centuries of churning water. I must admit that I got the Lord of the Rings shakes.
The rest was basically hiking up and down each side of the valley, and a night in some oasis cabins by candlelight. For a bit of perspective, you should hear about the morning hike. At 5.30 we started so that we`d beat the sun up. 2 hours, six kilometres, and 1200metres vertical. It`s the kind of thing that gets you ready for breakfast. Apparently locals do it in 40 minutes daily to buy supplies. Mild buzzkill.
Halloween! They take it seriously here, well, by our standards. The city was awash with locals and tourists, some in quite creative disguises. Naturally, we rose to the occassion. Penny gets my vote for best dressed, as I`ve never seen a clown quite that scary. I`m sure those children will have nightmares for weeks, but wasn`t that the point? Consolidating the victory, i`ve also got to give best house effort to Anna, as Mario, and Naomi, as a parrot. She didn`t quite fit on Myles` pirate shoulder, but we can`t have everything, can we?
Here`s where it gets interesting. The following two days are of the living and dead respectively. What does this actually mean for Cusco in this civilised age? A chance to visit less mobile relatives, spend time with family, eat pork, and enjoy saint bread. These little wonders are slightly sweetened loaves with small coloured heads at one end, like a wrapped baby, though there were also some horses. They are meant to be saints, but when we had ours Dina asked us to name it, so I`m not sure if it`s a predictive gesture, or just personalised. Sizes vary from a few hands to one roughly 20 metres long in Wanchaq, near the bus station we use for school. They were just handing out pieces to everyone.
You know the drill. Apparently in 2002 Arequipa was declared to be in a state of emergency as a result of riots related to the election of Toledo, Peru`s first president of native descent. The army had to be called to pacify the population. Even the mayor was in on it. Quotes. Julz just can`t stay out of the notes. She`s in this time for the exasperated admission, `I have the strength of a chipmunk.` Trish had golden moment in a shop, trying to get rid of a banana peel. She walked up to the owner and asked, `Esta bien?`-Is this good?
Tap, tap, go the crocs as the black ink spreads.
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