It has been nearly exactly 1 month and 1 day since I have arrived back in Canada. Surprisingly, reverse culture shock didn't really occur. Of course the first few days were a bit odd for me, being surrounded by so many caucasians and not greeting people with the regular kiss on both cheeks (I had to actually mentally stop myself from doing so when I saw my professor the day after I returned).
Today I was sitting in the planning studio spending 2.5 hours painting tiny houses grey for our study model. I have spent most of my time the last 2 weeks in the planning studio doing things like painting tiny houses, cutting out contours, sanding down said contours, and a lot of other tedious and mindless stuff that we have to do in urban design courses. Ever since arriving back in Canada, I have been thrown into work so quickly without a moment of respite that I just took it all in so quickly, because I had to. I had to (have to) do this work and today, while sitting painting tiny houses, I just thought about how weird it is that just a month ago, I was trekking around in Bolivia and Peru seeing the most amazing sites in the world and doing some pretty amazing things.
I'm saddened by the fact that I am forgetting Peru so quickly. A lot of it may because I am so busy in Waterloo, that I have no time to reflect or think about my 4 months in South America.
I really missed Canada during the last few weeks of my time in South America. And of course I am happy to be back, but at the same time I am so saddened by the return of normalcy to my life. The monotony of doing things like cutting tiny houses as opposed to the exciting traveling that I was doing in Bolivia and Peru. Even the most mundane thing that I did in Lima, such as grocery shopping or taking the bus - I miss. I miss the bus system and how chaotic it is, I miss Vivanda, the swankiest grocery store I have ever been to. I really miss South American people, and how friendly they are. I remember on my excruciatingly long transit back to Canada, I talked with so many Peruvians so easily. There is something so carefree about South American culture, the people are so friendly and warm. Here, I find that people can be friendly, but talking to a stranger can also get you some really strange looks depending on the person.
Perhaps I am just so fed up with working on this studio model, as I usually am. And fed up with the stress of having to find a co-op position and deadlines up the whazoo. I wish that I could return to my stress easy life in Peru, where after work I would take a leisurely bus ride to my yoga studio and relax. Or on the weekends when sometimes I would just take a walk around my neighbourhood, or go to Miraflores and just walk around, eat at cafes on my own and people watch with a glass or red wine in my hand.
I hope that one day I will return. Lima is a place that I could live in. I love Toronto, and I love Canada. But I know that my heart is never content staying in one place.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Birdy has flown home!
Birdy has flown home!
It has been nearly 3 weeks since I have arrived back to Canada, after a gruelling 40 some hour journey from Lima to Toronto which involved sleeping on the airport floor with the noisiest “emergency blanket” ever that rather looks like a large sheet of tinfoil and sounds like 10 plastic bags being crumpled. It was much the same feeling of being the first one finished your exam in a quiet exam room, and trying to get the Velcro of your bag open making as little noise as possible.
But I digress, my experiences of being the noisiest person while people are trying to sleep or write an exam has nothing to do with the amazing experience that I gained through my placement with Students Without Borders in Lima, Peru. To recap, my placement was with the Centro de Educacion y Informacion para la Prevencion de Abuso del Drogas (Center of Education and Information for the Prevention of Drug Abuse) in one of their three group homes for vulnerable youth. I volunteered at the Casa Hogares Los Delfines for boys in La Victoria.
Most of my time there, I spent just hanging out with the boys and getting to know them. Other times, I was teaching English, how to use Adobe CS3 programs and sometimes, though less often than not, music via guitar. My role as an international volunteer, as was explained to me by my superior, was to be a positive support figure and to expose the boys to different cultures. I am not sure if I was able to provide that for the boys, shedding as much light as I can on both the Canadian and Chinese culture, but what I took away is something that I would not trade for the world.
While of course, like with most volunteer positions, at times I felt like I was not being utilized to the best of my ability, or I would get stressed out because I didn't know how to approach a situation and other times and sometimes felt like giving up because I wasn't getting through to the boys. But in the end, it doesn't matter how hard, or easy your placement is; it matters what lessons you take away from the placement and whether or not you let these experiences affect the way you live your life in the future.
In my 3 months in Lima, I learned and developed a whole new sense of compassion. Being no stranger to working with youth, I thought that the relationships that I developed with these boys would be much the same as the types of relationships I forged with my former music students. Obviously, it was not the same. Being a music teacher, in a position of authority and working with middle class youth did not prepare me for being a volunteer and an equal with an underprivileged and vulnerable population of youth, an all male population. I never thought that I could grow so attached to youth so much younger than me, and to youth who at times, were butting heads with me.
While you always know that it does not matter what social background you come from, people are people and every person has the ability to be a good person. Everybody knows this in theory, but it doesn't stop the stereotypes from coming out and any privileged person would be lying if they said they never let a negative thought of the poor come across their mind. I think that maybe it takes real life experience to really learn this lesson. These boys are amazing. It never ceases to amaze me that even though they have gone through so much, violent families, parents with addictions, street life; they are still so happy with life and determined to move forward. When I think of what these boys have been through, and how little I know of that life; I can't help but think a little stupid for sometimes making such a big deal about things that, in comparison to other things, it not an issue at all. I hope that with this experience, I can learn to be a more thoughtful person and to take life in stride like these boys do.
Most of all however, I hope to never forget. Not only the boys that I met and got to know there, but the vivacious culture of Peru, the language, and the relaxed way that people go about life in Peru, as opposed to the high-strung life that people seem to lead in Canada. Even though every now and then I'll catch myself accidentally saying "no gracias", "permiso" and once "donde" to my parents when I was trying to speak Cantonese; I can feel myself losing the Spanish language fast. I only hope that everything else I learned from my experience does not wear off quite as fast as the language, if it wears off at all.
So, thank you Students Without Borders and WUSC for the chance that you gave me to such a wonderful experience. I hope that more students continue to volunteer abroad and to continue allowing for room to change in a world where it is needed most.
It has been nearly 3 weeks since I have arrived back to Canada, after a gruelling 40 some hour journey from Lima to Toronto which involved sleeping on the airport floor with the noisiest “emergency blanket” ever that rather looks like a large sheet of tinfoil and sounds like 10 plastic bags being crumpled. It was much the same feeling of being the first one finished your exam in a quiet exam room, and trying to get the Velcro of your bag open making as little noise as possible.
But I digress, my experiences of being the noisiest person while people are trying to sleep or write an exam has nothing to do with the amazing experience that I gained through my placement with Students Without Borders in Lima, Peru. To recap, my placement was with the Centro de Educacion y Informacion para la Prevencion de Abuso del Drogas (Center of Education and Information for the Prevention of Drug Abuse) in one of their three group homes for vulnerable youth. I volunteered at the Casa Hogares Los Delfines for boys in La Victoria.
Most of my time there, I spent just hanging out with the boys and getting to know them. Other times, I was teaching English, how to use Adobe CS3 programs and sometimes, though less often than not, music via guitar. My role as an international volunteer, as was explained to me by my superior, was to be a positive support figure and to expose the boys to different cultures. I am not sure if I was able to provide that for the boys, shedding as much light as I can on both the Canadian and Chinese culture, but what I took away is something that I would not trade for the world.
While of course, like with most volunteer positions, at times I felt like I was not being utilized to the best of my ability, or I would get stressed out because I didn't know how to approach a situation and other times and sometimes felt like giving up because I wasn't getting through to the boys. But in the end, it doesn't matter how hard, or easy your placement is; it matters what lessons you take away from the placement and whether or not you let these experiences affect the way you live your life in the future.
In my 3 months in Lima, I learned and developed a whole new sense of compassion. Being no stranger to working with youth, I thought that the relationships that I developed with these boys would be much the same as the types of relationships I forged with my former music students. Obviously, it was not the same. Being a music teacher, in a position of authority and working with middle class youth did not prepare me for being a volunteer and an equal with an underprivileged and vulnerable population of youth, an all male population. I never thought that I could grow so attached to youth so much younger than me, and to youth who at times, were butting heads with me.
While you always know that it does not matter what social background you come from, people are people and every person has the ability to be a good person. Everybody knows this in theory, but it doesn't stop the stereotypes from coming out and any privileged person would be lying if they said they never let a negative thought of the poor come across their mind. I think that maybe it takes real life experience to really learn this lesson. These boys are amazing. It never ceases to amaze me that even though they have gone through so much, violent families, parents with addictions, street life; they are still so happy with life and determined to move forward. When I think of what these boys have been through, and how little I know of that life; I can't help but think a little stupid for sometimes making such a big deal about things that, in comparison to other things, it not an issue at all. I hope that with this experience, I can learn to be a more thoughtful person and to take life in stride like these boys do.
Most of all however, I hope to never forget. Not only the boys that I met and got to know there, but the vivacious culture of Peru, the language, and the relaxed way that people go about life in Peru, as opposed to the high-strung life that people seem to lead in Canada. Even though every now and then I'll catch myself accidentally saying "no gracias", "permiso" and once "donde" to my parents when I was trying to speak Cantonese; I can feel myself losing the Spanish language fast. I only hope that everything else I learned from my experience does not wear off quite as fast as the language, if it wears off at all.
So, thank you Students Without Borders and WUSC for the chance that you gave me to such a wonderful experience. I hope that more students continue to volunteer abroad and to continue allowing for room to change in a world where it is needed most.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
These Boots are made for Walkin'
And that's just what they'll do. One of these days these boots are going to walk all over you. Dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun.
Uh...anyway...enough of that. Post title mainly from the fact that I have done a lot of walking in the last day and some. Yesterday my sister and I went to the Isla del Sol from Copabana. We ended up having the slowest boat on earth, with one broke-ass motor and the other just sputtering away...struggling to push the boat and some 20 or so people forward. Our boat left before everybody else, yet we arrived last at the island. Just our luck hahaha.
Isla del Sol is absolutely beautiful. The lake looks like glass almost, and in the midst of water pollution in Latin America, it's refreshing to see a body of water that isn't brown or have garbage in it. We got off at the North end and made our way to the South end...not because we wanted to, but because we got lost. In the end it was worth it because the landscape through the 2 and some hour trek is breathtaking. I think beaches are beautiful, but it is just so amazing to be on the top of this island, above everything else and see Bolivia on one side, and Peru on the other (but if you ask me which side is which I couldn't tell you hahaha). The trek however was tiring and by the end, I was starving and had to pee so bad...it was time for a day for relaxation. But it wasn't over yet, we had to board the boat again, which ended up leaving later than all the others (yes, even though it was the slowest). We were supposed to arrive back in Copacabana at 5:20, and we would be able to catch our bus at 6:00. So our slow boat made its return journey, and stopped at the Templo del Sol for 15 minutes which was not part of the itinerary. It put me on edge, I was sure that we would miss our bus because nobody ever takes 15 minutes at something.
In the end, we ended up getting back to the island at a quarter to six where we ran to the bus company, grabbed our bags from some random hostal that I managed to convince to store our bags even though we weren't staying there or have ever stayed there. But in the end, it didn't matter. Our bus didn't leave until 6:45 anyway, which I should have anticipated being that it was a Bolivian bus.
Off we went to Peru (my beloved pais). First though...we took the bus to the border. On the Bolivian side everybody got out and had to go through Bolivian immigration. My sister and I were stragglers because we were exchanging money...so we went back to our bus, but nobody was there. Then our bus driver tells us our bus is on the other side. The other side? The other side of what? The other side of the road? The other side of the bus? Oh no...the other side of the border. So off we went, in the middle of the night walking through the Bolivian/Peruvian border, like a pair of illegal migrants. It was strange...I have never walked through a border like that...I felt like I should have been skulking or something, rathering than prancing through. Okay, well I didn't prance but I didn't skulk either.
After that we took another bus to Puno, and switched buses there to Arequipa. Somewhere along the road, we stopped to pick up other passengers and just our luck, we get this family sitting behind us. Yes...an entire family sitting behind us, you know, where there are only 2 seats. The mother had so many bags that she kept making my sister raise her seat so she could fit her bags, meanwhile she stretched out her chair completely. Coulnd't have put the bags under the bus or overtop you know? Meanwhile behind me, there were like...3 people in the same seat and the kid kept kicking my seat and pulling the overhead part, with my hair included. It was super frustrating because the previous night I had gotten about 1 hour of sleep, and then we hiked all day and were exhausted. All we wanted was a good nights rest, which is already hard enough on a bus itself, without annoying people sitting behind us.
Anyway, eventually we arrived in Arequipa at like...2 am in the morning. We phoned around and managed to find a hostal that had room. So...here I am now! In the hostal...taking advantage of the free internet here (bahaha!). Anyway...that about sums up my adventures as of how.
Home next week on Friday...so I expect to see some of you faces soon! If not in Toronto, in class in Waterloo. For those of you, my friends in Calgary, soon enough my loves! Soon enough!
Uh...anyway...enough of that. Post title mainly from the fact that I have done a lot of walking in the last day and some. Yesterday my sister and I went to the Isla del Sol from Copabana. We ended up having the slowest boat on earth, with one broke-ass motor and the other just sputtering away...struggling to push the boat and some 20 or so people forward. Our boat left before everybody else, yet we arrived last at the island. Just our luck hahaha.
Isla del Sol is absolutely beautiful. The lake looks like glass almost, and in the midst of water pollution in Latin America, it's refreshing to see a body of water that isn't brown or have garbage in it. We got off at the North end and made our way to the South end...not because we wanted to, but because we got lost. In the end it was worth it because the landscape through the 2 and some hour trek is breathtaking. I think beaches are beautiful, but it is just so amazing to be on the top of this island, above everything else and see Bolivia on one side, and Peru on the other (but if you ask me which side is which I couldn't tell you hahaha). The trek however was tiring and by the end, I was starving and had to pee so bad...it was time for a day for relaxation. But it wasn't over yet, we had to board the boat again, which ended up leaving later than all the others (yes, even though it was the slowest). We were supposed to arrive back in Copacabana at 5:20, and we would be able to catch our bus at 6:00. So our slow boat made its return journey, and stopped at the Templo del Sol for 15 minutes which was not part of the itinerary. It put me on edge, I was sure that we would miss our bus because nobody ever takes 15 minutes at something.
In the end, we ended up getting back to the island at a quarter to six where we ran to the bus company, grabbed our bags from some random hostal that I managed to convince to store our bags even though we weren't staying there or have ever stayed there. But in the end, it didn't matter. Our bus didn't leave until 6:45 anyway, which I should have anticipated being that it was a Bolivian bus.
Off we went to Peru (my beloved pais). First though...we took the bus to the border. On the Bolivian side everybody got out and had to go through Bolivian immigration. My sister and I were stragglers because we were exchanging money...so we went back to our bus, but nobody was there. Then our bus driver tells us our bus is on the other side. The other side? The other side of what? The other side of the road? The other side of the bus? Oh no...the other side of the border. So off we went, in the middle of the night walking through the Bolivian/Peruvian border, like a pair of illegal migrants. It was strange...I have never walked through a border like that...I felt like I should have been skulking or something, rathering than prancing through. Okay, well I didn't prance but I didn't skulk either.
After that we took another bus to Puno, and switched buses there to Arequipa. Somewhere along the road, we stopped to pick up other passengers and just our luck, we get this family sitting behind us. Yes...an entire family sitting behind us, you know, where there are only 2 seats. The mother had so many bags that she kept making my sister raise her seat so she could fit her bags, meanwhile she stretched out her chair completely. Coulnd't have put the bags under the bus or overtop you know? Meanwhile behind me, there were like...3 people in the same seat and the kid kept kicking my seat and pulling the overhead part, with my hair included. It was super frustrating because the previous night I had gotten about 1 hour of sleep, and then we hiked all day and were exhausted. All we wanted was a good nights rest, which is already hard enough on a bus itself, without annoying people sitting behind us.
Anyway, eventually we arrived in Arequipa at like...2 am in the morning. We phoned around and managed to find a hostal that had room. So...here I am now! In the hostal...taking advantage of the free internet here (bahaha!). Anyway...that about sums up my adventures as of how.
Home next week on Friday...so I expect to see some of you faces soon! If not in Toronto, in class in Waterloo. For those of you, my friends in Calgary, soon enough my loves! Soon enough!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
FIRE IN THE DANCEHALL
So...where did I leave off? Sort of rushed from my last day in the jungle...to give a bit more detail my last day in the jungle we went to the community of San Miguel. This is where I tried chocolate fruit and the seeds that chocolate is made from...it doesn´t really taste like anything but the fruit is good! I also helped make fresh sugar cane juice with this old machine, and then later drank the sugar cane juice with lemon in it. I also ate grapefruit off the tree, I tried to catch them but only succeeded in catching the one and dropping the other two. Whatever...it´s really hard trying to catch falling grapefruit. The community was really intereting to see, they have a lot of volunteers there and part of me wished that I did my internship in a place like that instead...mostly just because it´s just so far removed and really different from what I know in Canada. I mean...Lima is different, but anything I want from Canada I can most likely find it in Lima as well (except for Vietnamese noodles dear noodles I miss you!).
Following the community visit, Eric, our tour guide made my sister and I rings from wild mango seeds. It´s pretty cool how he makes them...takes a lot of time, I don´t think I would have the patience. Hahaha. I kept saying ¨listo¨ while I was sanding...and he would just say back to me...¨that´s not listo¨.Hahaha. Around this time it began to rain really hard...I guess it wouldn´t have been an experience in the rainforest with it actually raining. Our flight was cancelled, and then it wasn´t cancelled...and we ended up boarding the bus maybe 2 minutes before it left for the airport. On the plane we met a nice Israeli guy named Ron. When we landed in La Paz we shared a taxi with Ron and ended up meeting him, and 2 of his friends that he met in Peru for dinner...and then later playing pool and cards in an all Israeli hostal. It wasn´t sort of a weird feeling to be the only Asians amongst all these Israelis but fun nonetheless.
The next day we left for Uyuni and our Salar de Uyuni trip. The overnight bus was hell and on our way to Uyuni this truck drove by our bus and totally collided in the side of it and took off the side, the side mirror and even broke the front window completely! Poor bus drivers had to drive with a broken window the rest of the time. Eventually they caught up to the truck driver and ended up surrounding him and kicking him...drawing all the locals of this tiny community out. It was really bizarre...not exactly the best way to solve anything I don´t think. But I guess things like insurance don´t exist here. We finally managed to make our way to Uyuni and left for our tour in a timely fashion, after being rudely denied use of bathroom at 2 hostals even though we offered to pay (the public baño was closed).
We ended up being on a tour with 2 older German gentleman and a German couple, it´s too bad that we didn´t get a younger tour group, it might have been more fun. But it was still good. We made our way to the train cemetery...which was interesting, but not that interesting. It was the Salt Lake that still marks my 3 days in Salar de Uyuni. It just seems so alien....stretches and stretches of white salt, and little cones of salt. The Isla de Pescado just sits in the middle of the Salt Lake...rocky and rull of cacti in this landscape that is seemingly barren in resources other than salt. My sister and I took some pretty good shots at the Salt Lake. Afterwards we made our way to the hostal...which was, as they said on the itinerary very basic. Although at this hostal it has been one of the warmer showers I have been able to take in Bolivia so far....they aren´t very common here in Bolivia.
Dinner rolled around the corner and everybody was sitting in the dining area, adjacent to the 2 kitchens. There were 3 tour groups in total, making it I believe 18 foreigners in total, 3 tour guide and 3 cooks. Everybody is just enjoying dinner when all the sudden I hear this ¨boom¨ and this guy comes flying out of the second kitchen, fear on his face and I see from the kitchen the orange glow of fire. It was a gas fire, one of the tubes of the propane tank had leaked. Everybody got out of the dining hall fast...in the chaos I lost my sandal, my keys and my flashlight (all were found later). It was pretty scary because there were 2 propane tanks in the kitchen. My sister and I ended up running into somebody´s property, they ended up being very nice and telling us to come behind the brick wall with them because it was safer. It was pretty scary looking over the wall and into the window of the dining hall and just seeing this orange glow. Eventually they got the fire out, one local girl was burned but not too seriously (as people told me at least). Our cook and the older German gentleman escaped through the window in the other kitchen. Oi vay...small noises are still freaking me out now. I am just glad that things didn´t get worse and that nobody was seriously hurt.
The next day we went to 3 lagunas and the National Park Reserve as well as the stone tree. The landscape in this area is just so strange...I feel like I am on alien land all the time. Flamingos in this seemingly desert area...ostriches...llamas...vicunas. So bizarre. The sun in Salar is wicked and the car gets unbearably hot...I spent a lot of the time with my scarf over my head looking like a really cool person. That night we spent the night in some pretty sketch accomodation...dorm style rooms don´t bother me, but I would at least like clean sheets (or seemingly clean). When I peeled back my sandy feeling sheets, I found a dirty old snot rag in my bed. Lovely.
The next day we had an early wake up call at 4;30, went to the geysers and the hot springs. I just dipped my feet in the hot springs, but at one point I wanted to get a better photo so I started walking...then slipped then ended up getting most of my pants wet. This wouldn´t be such a big deal usually, but Salar de Uyuni is bitterly cold in the morning and night. I was literally a popsicle until my pants dried. I think because of the many temperature change, I came down with a fever on our last day in Salar.
Oi! Anyway...have to cut this entry short again. My hour is nearly up! Hasta luego amigos!
Following the community visit, Eric, our tour guide made my sister and I rings from wild mango seeds. It´s pretty cool how he makes them...takes a lot of time, I don´t think I would have the patience. Hahaha. I kept saying ¨listo¨ while I was sanding...and he would just say back to me...¨that´s not listo¨.Hahaha. Around this time it began to rain really hard...I guess it wouldn´t have been an experience in the rainforest with it actually raining. Our flight was cancelled, and then it wasn´t cancelled...and we ended up boarding the bus maybe 2 minutes before it left for the airport. On the plane we met a nice Israeli guy named Ron. When we landed in La Paz we shared a taxi with Ron and ended up meeting him, and 2 of his friends that he met in Peru for dinner...and then later playing pool and cards in an all Israeli hostal. It wasn´t sort of a weird feeling to be the only Asians amongst all these Israelis but fun nonetheless.
The next day we left for Uyuni and our Salar de Uyuni trip. The overnight bus was hell and on our way to Uyuni this truck drove by our bus and totally collided in the side of it and took off the side, the side mirror and even broke the front window completely! Poor bus drivers had to drive with a broken window the rest of the time. Eventually they caught up to the truck driver and ended up surrounding him and kicking him...drawing all the locals of this tiny community out. It was really bizarre...not exactly the best way to solve anything I don´t think. But I guess things like insurance don´t exist here. We finally managed to make our way to Uyuni and left for our tour in a timely fashion, after being rudely denied use of bathroom at 2 hostals even though we offered to pay (the public baño was closed).
We ended up being on a tour with 2 older German gentleman and a German couple, it´s too bad that we didn´t get a younger tour group, it might have been more fun. But it was still good. We made our way to the train cemetery...which was interesting, but not that interesting. It was the Salt Lake that still marks my 3 days in Salar de Uyuni. It just seems so alien....stretches and stretches of white salt, and little cones of salt. The Isla de Pescado just sits in the middle of the Salt Lake...rocky and rull of cacti in this landscape that is seemingly barren in resources other than salt. My sister and I took some pretty good shots at the Salt Lake. Afterwards we made our way to the hostal...which was, as they said on the itinerary very basic. Although at this hostal it has been one of the warmer showers I have been able to take in Bolivia so far....they aren´t very common here in Bolivia.
Dinner rolled around the corner and everybody was sitting in the dining area, adjacent to the 2 kitchens. There were 3 tour groups in total, making it I believe 18 foreigners in total, 3 tour guide and 3 cooks. Everybody is just enjoying dinner when all the sudden I hear this ¨boom¨ and this guy comes flying out of the second kitchen, fear on his face and I see from the kitchen the orange glow of fire. It was a gas fire, one of the tubes of the propane tank had leaked. Everybody got out of the dining hall fast...in the chaos I lost my sandal, my keys and my flashlight (all were found later). It was pretty scary because there were 2 propane tanks in the kitchen. My sister and I ended up running into somebody´s property, they ended up being very nice and telling us to come behind the brick wall with them because it was safer. It was pretty scary looking over the wall and into the window of the dining hall and just seeing this orange glow. Eventually they got the fire out, one local girl was burned but not too seriously (as people told me at least). Our cook and the older German gentleman escaped through the window in the other kitchen. Oi vay...small noises are still freaking me out now. I am just glad that things didn´t get worse and that nobody was seriously hurt.
The next day we went to 3 lagunas and the National Park Reserve as well as the stone tree. The landscape in this area is just so strange...I feel like I am on alien land all the time. Flamingos in this seemingly desert area...ostriches...llamas...vicunas. So bizarre. The sun in Salar is wicked and the car gets unbearably hot...I spent a lot of the time with my scarf over my head looking like a really cool person. That night we spent the night in some pretty sketch accomodation...dorm style rooms don´t bother me, but I would at least like clean sheets (or seemingly clean). When I peeled back my sandy feeling sheets, I found a dirty old snot rag in my bed. Lovely.
The next day we had an early wake up call at 4;30, went to the geysers and the hot springs. I just dipped my feet in the hot springs, but at one point I wanted to get a better photo so I started walking...then slipped then ended up getting most of my pants wet. This wouldn´t be such a big deal usually, but Salar de Uyuni is bitterly cold in the morning and night. I was literally a popsicle until my pants dried. I think because of the many temperature change, I came down with a fever on our last day in Salar.
Oi! Anyway...have to cut this entry short again. My hour is nearly up! Hasta luego amigos!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Adventuras de viaje
Hola mis amigos! So...it has been a while since I last wrote. I am currntly in La Paz, freezing my toes off in a internet cafe type thinger. Locutorio? I don´t know...that is what they´re called in Peru but I don´t think they are calld that in Bolivia.
So...the reason why I am freezing specifically my toes off? Well, I am wearing flip flops. Why would I be so stupid to wear flip flops in cold La Paz right? Ha...there is a funny story behind that one (read on and you´ll see). We landed in La Paz on Saturday and spent the day here, organized our trip to Salar de Uyuni and walked around (ie. got lost) a bit. Turned in a bit early since we had an early wake up call and stayed at our hostel...the "Hotel Majestic"...which wasn´t really that majestic, but at least it had hot water showers, which I would later learn are rare in Bolivia.
The next morning we woke up before the sun rose and called our plane company to see if the flight as a-okay. This is necessary becaus in Rurrenabaque, the landing strip isn´t so much as landing strip as it is a field of grass, so when it rains it´s dangerous. We ended up going through a confusing time of approximately 5 or 6 hours trying to figure out our cancelled or possibly not cancelled flight. Eventually we boardd the plane and AWAY we went! La Paz and Rurrenabaque...wow, so different, and obviously I prefer Rurrenabaque. I stepped off the plane wearing a scarf, a sweater, a jacket and my leggings. These layers were peeled off almost immediately after I stepped off the plane. We met our tour guide, Eric, a cute little guy from the jungle community of San Jose. Speaks like...6 languages or so, amazing. The bus ride to Rurre took about 45 minutes and was interesting to see the scenery...cows crossing, goats, people riding down the dirt road on a motorcyle without a helmet...it sort of reminded me of footage I have seen of rural Africa.
We arrived to Rurre and off we went to the San Miguel del Bala Ecolodge. First we walked to the office in Rurre and then took a beautiful boat ride to the ecolodge. Words cannot describe the scenery...I had a big stupid grin on my face the entire time on the boat. It`s just this lush greenery everywhere, and the boats are cute and everybody is so friendly. We arrived at the Ecolodge, dropped off our backpacks and left for the canyon. Had to take a bit of a hike at first, but it was amazing. The canyon it not as deep as the canyon I went to in Huaraz, but this experienc was better. You are right inside the canyon, thigh deep in water at times clambering over rocks. In the end, I took off my flip flops because it was easier to manage your balance. It´s so dark and mysterious inside the canyon, bats flying everywher and at one point we saw a poisonous spider on the wall of the canyon. I tried to give it as wide a berth as possile as I walked by...sort of hard in a narrow canyon. But I managed to get by alive hahaha.
Afterwards, we went back to the lodge and took a steep uphill hike up 80 billion stairs to get to our cabin...I hate these stairs. Over the course of my stay in the jungle...I had to climb these damn things so many times I am pretty sure that I really do have buns of steel now. I should make an exercise video when I get back to Canada. Anyway, dropped off our stuff and left for dinner which was delicious. We headed back to bed pretty early as again, we had an early wake up call. When we returned to our cabin, our lights stopped working, so we had to take our lukewarm shower with flashlights aimed as best as possible for being able to see. Hahaha. It´s just like when there is a power outage only a bit more scary because you don´t know what kind of insects are making their way into your living arrangements and you can´t see anything. The next morning, we headed for our breakfast, also delicious and met a pair of French girls who have been traveling for 4 or so months. I immediately thought of Cecile and then had to be like...oh yeah, my old roommate is from France, from Nancy...as if they really care. Hahaha. It was an interesting conversation as they didn´t speak too good of English, my French is ass, so we communicated mostly in Spanish / English and a little bit of French here and there. Hahaha.
After breakfast we prepared for our 3 hour hike in the jungle. It was amazing, but also thoroughly exhausting. I will no longer ever think of the Lake Louise tea house hike in Alberta as hard anymore. You sweat like a pig like the jungle, and the mosquitos eat you alive...regardless of whether or not you´re wearing repellent. I think I have a good set of qat last 20 bites now...in various places on my body including my face. It was really difficult at times becaus the slope is to steep, so it´s difficult to climb and to get down...and other parts are really marshy. We managed to see a frog, 2 types of monkeys, some birds and a tarantula! Aaah! Our guide was poking the tarantula nest with a stick...I really don´t think that a tarantula is the type of organism that you should be aggravating with a stick. Hahaha. I managed the entire 3 hour trek doing quite well, didn´t fall once and my shoes didn´t get too wet. As we were boarding the boat, half of my body was in the boat and the other half still on land...you can guess what happened next...my other half slipped into the river and under the boat. Not only was my left half now wet, I also have this huge bruise from the boat! So this is now why I am wearing flip flops because my shoes are still soaking wet. Afterwards we headed to the camp grounds and saw the 2 French girls, as well as 2 Americans and a British girl (the later 3 were quite unfriendly). Eating was a pretty unpleasant experienc as the swarms of insects don´t give you a break, I am sure that I ate at least 5 flies during that lunch...oh well, extra protein. At least it´s more excusable...I am in the jungle. Not like that time I found a ladybug in my food on Air Canada flight...thanks Air Canada.
Afterwards we took another hike to a small body of water with a waterfall. The hike sucked because I changed into my flip flops...at one point we went down such a steep and slippery hill that ther was this rope that had been put there to help you down. Thanks rope...didn´t do much good though hahaha! The waterfall was great and much needed after all that hiking in the hot jungle. I love the way the sand/mud feels in the jungle...it´s so fine and wet that you just sort of...sink into it like a pillow. I found my "sand haven" in the waterfall area and just sort of stayed there. Hahaha. There were little shrimp swimming around, I tried to catch a few but failed and then freaked out when one of them touched my hands. Hahaha. I am not cut out for shrimping...so long dreams of becoming Bubba Gump.
Anyway...nxt day went to the community and had some fresh fruit and made fresh sugar cane juice. Ack...my time is up on this internet, sorry for having to cut this short. Long story short, community was cool, rain in the jungle occured, almost missed our flight. And now we´re back in dreary La Paz.
Leaving for Salar de Uyuni tonight...nos hablamos mas rato mis amigos!
Besos,
Renee
So...the reason why I am freezing specifically my toes off? Well, I am wearing flip flops. Why would I be so stupid to wear flip flops in cold La Paz right? Ha...there is a funny story behind that one (read on and you´ll see). We landed in La Paz on Saturday and spent the day here, organized our trip to Salar de Uyuni and walked around (ie. got lost) a bit. Turned in a bit early since we had an early wake up call and stayed at our hostel...the "Hotel Majestic"...which wasn´t really that majestic, but at least it had hot water showers, which I would later learn are rare in Bolivia.
The next morning we woke up before the sun rose and called our plane company to see if the flight as a-okay. This is necessary becaus in Rurrenabaque, the landing strip isn´t so much as landing strip as it is a field of grass, so when it rains it´s dangerous. We ended up going through a confusing time of approximately 5 or 6 hours trying to figure out our cancelled or possibly not cancelled flight. Eventually we boardd the plane and AWAY we went! La Paz and Rurrenabaque...wow, so different, and obviously I prefer Rurrenabaque. I stepped off the plane wearing a scarf, a sweater, a jacket and my leggings. These layers were peeled off almost immediately after I stepped off the plane. We met our tour guide, Eric, a cute little guy from the jungle community of San Jose. Speaks like...6 languages or so, amazing. The bus ride to Rurre took about 45 minutes and was interesting to see the scenery...cows crossing, goats, people riding down the dirt road on a motorcyle without a helmet...it sort of reminded me of footage I have seen of rural Africa.
We arrived to Rurre and off we went to the San Miguel del Bala Ecolodge. First we walked to the office in Rurre and then took a beautiful boat ride to the ecolodge. Words cannot describe the scenery...I had a big stupid grin on my face the entire time on the boat. It`s just this lush greenery everywhere, and the boats are cute and everybody is so friendly. We arrived at the Ecolodge, dropped off our backpacks and left for the canyon. Had to take a bit of a hike at first, but it was amazing. The canyon it not as deep as the canyon I went to in Huaraz, but this experienc was better. You are right inside the canyon, thigh deep in water at times clambering over rocks. In the end, I took off my flip flops because it was easier to manage your balance. It´s so dark and mysterious inside the canyon, bats flying everywher and at one point we saw a poisonous spider on the wall of the canyon. I tried to give it as wide a berth as possile as I walked by...sort of hard in a narrow canyon. But I managed to get by alive hahaha.
Afterwards, we went back to the lodge and took a steep uphill hike up 80 billion stairs to get to our cabin...I hate these stairs. Over the course of my stay in the jungle...I had to climb these damn things so many times I am pretty sure that I really do have buns of steel now. I should make an exercise video when I get back to Canada. Anyway, dropped off our stuff and left for dinner which was delicious. We headed back to bed pretty early as again, we had an early wake up call. When we returned to our cabin, our lights stopped working, so we had to take our lukewarm shower with flashlights aimed as best as possible for being able to see. Hahaha. It´s just like when there is a power outage only a bit more scary because you don´t know what kind of insects are making their way into your living arrangements and you can´t see anything. The next morning, we headed for our breakfast, also delicious and met a pair of French girls who have been traveling for 4 or so months. I immediately thought of Cecile and then had to be like...oh yeah, my old roommate is from France, from Nancy...as if they really care. Hahaha. It was an interesting conversation as they didn´t speak too good of English, my French is ass, so we communicated mostly in Spanish / English and a little bit of French here and there. Hahaha.
After breakfast we prepared for our 3 hour hike in the jungle. It was amazing, but also thoroughly exhausting. I will no longer ever think of the Lake Louise tea house hike in Alberta as hard anymore. You sweat like a pig like the jungle, and the mosquitos eat you alive...regardless of whether or not you´re wearing repellent. I think I have a good set of qat last 20 bites now...in various places on my body including my face. It was really difficult at times becaus the slope is to steep, so it´s difficult to climb and to get down...and other parts are really marshy. We managed to see a frog, 2 types of monkeys, some birds and a tarantula! Aaah! Our guide was poking the tarantula nest with a stick...I really don´t think that a tarantula is the type of organism that you should be aggravating with a stick. Hahaha. I managed the entire 3 hour trek doing quite well, didn´t fall once and my shoes didn´t get too wet. As we were boarding the boat, half of my body was in the boat and the other half still on land...you can guess what happened next...my other half slipped into the river and under the boat. Not only was my left half now wet, I also have this huge bruise from the boat! So this is now why I am wearing flip flops because my shoes are still soaking wet. Afterwards we headed to the camp grounds and saw the 2 French girls, as well as 2 Americans and a British girl (the later 3 were quite unfriendly). Eating was a pretty unpleasant experienc as the swarms of insects don´t give you a break, I am sure that I ate at least 5 flies during that lunch...oh well, extra protein. At least it´s more excusable...I am in the jungle. Not like that time I found a ladybug in my food on Air Canada flight...thanks Air Canada.
Afterwards we took another hike to a small body of water with a waterfall. The hike sucked because I changed into my flip flops...at one point we went down such a steep and slippery hill that ther was this rope that had been put there to help you down. Thanks rope...didn´t do much good though hahaha! The waterfall was great and much needed after all that hiking in the hot jungle. I love the way the sand/mud feels in the jungle...it´s so fine and wet that you just sort of...sink into it like a pillow. I found my "sand haven" in the waterfall area and just sort of stayed there. Hahaha. There were little shrimp swimming around, I tried to catch a few but failed and then freaked out when one of them touched my hands. Hahaha. I am not cut out for shrimping...so long dreams of becoming Bubba Gump.
Anyway...nxt day went to the community and had some fresh fruit and made fresh sugar cane juice. Ack...my time is up on this internet, sorry for having to cut this short. Long story short, community was cool, rain in the jungle occured, almost missed our flight. And now we´re back in dreary La Paz.
Leaving for Salar de Uyuni tonight...nos hablamos mas rato mis amigos!
Besos,
Renee
Friday, April 3, 2009
Mi ultima semana
Next week will be my last week in Lima and working at the Casa Hogares Los Delfines. What can I say? It has been a really great learning experience. While I can't say that I understand poverty now, because I never really will understand it until I have lived it, and unfortunately, the hypocrite in me is unwilling to give up my comfortable lifestyle to live in poverty.
Working with these children has given me a whole new level of patience. While I have worked with kids in many different positions, this set of kids are very different. You can really tell that many of them have behavioral and social problems, yet being untrained in psychology I am not able to recognize them.
Of course I often get very impatient and frustrated with the kids, and sometimes in my head I am silently cursing them. But then, something happens when I am doing something like just playing cards with them, or when I see them first thing in the morning and last thing during the afternoon and they give me a kiss good morning and good bye, or when I'm looking through photos of them. It sounds so corny, but my heart just swells and a rush of emotions and memories come flooding back to me. You would think that 3 months isn't enough time to get attached, but it is more than enough. While I am happy to be finished work, start traveling Bolivia and return to Canada, I am also feeling melancholy because even though the work can be quite frustrating, in part of not having much to do, I have grown to care so much for every one of those kids and it's difficult for me because I know that the chances are that I'll never see them again. I don't see myself returning to Peru anytime soon, in part because I have to graduate and in the future, if I do more international volunteering (which I probably will), I want to experience more and see more, so I probably will not go back to volunteer in Peru.
This country is beautiful and so diverse, just like every one of the boys that I work with. It is hard for me to stay mad at any of the boys when one minute they might be bothering me on purpose to get a reaction, and the next minute they are giving me a picture that they drew for me. It breaks my heart the histories and the conditions that these boys live in. Of course I don't mean the conditions of the casa hogares, because the conditions, while not up to North American standards (though I can't be too sure of this, I don't know how group homes in Canada are) are fine, but I mean the conditions in that many of unable to see their family, or no longer have family, etc. This position has certainly solidified my desire to work in social planning in the future, I want to be able to make a change in somebody's life for the better. While urban design is very interesting to me, there are inherent social issues embedded in the world of private and corporate urban design that I cannot come to terms with. Perhaps in the future I will find a socially conscious urban design company to work for, perhaps not. Either way, I am sure that I will know what decision to make when the time comes.
Perhaps this internship hasn't been the best, nor has it been the worst, but I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Yes of course, many times at work I get bored because the boys are at school, or are otherwise occupied with chores or homework and there isn't much for the volunteer to do. But at the same time, getting to know these boys, their stories and becoming their friend is an experience that is a reward itself. Though it's hard to see that sometimes, when you take a step back and really take a look, it becomes clear. Perhaps I haven't been able to make a big impact on these boys alone, with my short time here, but they have made a very big impact on me. And I hope to take these effects with me back home, and forever keep them in my mind when I am out in the work (or volunteer) force in the future. Every little thing I do to help make the world a better place (I know, I sound so corny and lame right now), I will think of these boys because it is people like them that I am doing things for.
Apart from that, I am also very glad to be (almost) finished the internship and (almost) returning to Canada. I miss my friends dearly, my family...well, my sister arrives in Lima tonight and living in Ontario I don' really get to see my parents that often anyway. I miss cooking my own food and trying out new recipes, or doing things like baking cookies at 1am in the morning. I miss my bike and riding it everywhere, even if it gives me swass (sweaty ass) and god awful calluses on my hands, I just love biking everywhere. Of course I also miss my collection of clothing, shoes, bags, accessories etc, having come here with just a backpack (albeit a large one)...yes I realize how girly and also spoiled I sound. I also miss school...oddly enough, the late hours in the studio making models until my fingers hurt and I want to stab myself with the narrow pointy end of my set square, or otherwise furiously pounding out papers in the wee hours of the morning, and printing and handing them in juuustt before they are due. I miss the weather even, oddly enough - the weather here in Lima is always beautiful, but there is something really nice about a chilly autumn day and bundling up in scarves, mitts and carrying a cup of hot coffee. Speaking of hot coffee, I also miss my god awful Tim Hortons large-double-double "coffee". I don't care if it doesn't really qualify for real coffee, I love it hahaha!
I also miss my house in Waterloo...though I haven't lived there for very long (barely 4 months) I feel so at home there. I even miss Waterloo, which is so strange for me to say now considering how much I hated the city when I first moved there. Of course I miss Toronto, it's a big city as well, like Lima, but it's different in a way that I can't say if I prefer it more or not, I like both cities.
In all, there are lots of things I miss about Canada. But I am sure that when I get back to Canada, I will be able to think of a plethora of things that I miss about Lima and Peru in general. That being said, it's 10:08 and I am extremely sleepy, I think I will sneak in a quick nap before heading out to the airport to get my sister.
Talk to you later dear readers!
Saludos,
Renee
Working with these children has given me a whole new level of patience. While I have worked with kids in many different positions, this set of kids are very different. You can really tell that many of them have behavioral and social problems, yet being untrained in psychology I am not able to recognize them.
Of course I often get very impatient and frustrated with the kids, and sometimes in my head I am silently cursing them. But then, something happens when I am doing something like just playing cards with them, or when I see them first thing in the morning and last thing during the afternoon and they give me a kiss good morning and good bye, or when I'm looking through photos of them. It sounds so corny, but my heart just swells and a rush of emotions and memories come flooding back to me. You would think that 3 months isn't enough time to get attached, but it is more than enough. While I am happy to be finished work, start traveling Bolivia and return to Canada, I am also feeling melancholy because even though the work can be quite frustrating, in part of not having much to do, I have grown to care so much for every one of those kids and it's difficult for me because I know that the chances are that I'll never see them again. I don't see myself returning to Peru anytime soon, in part because I have to graduate and in the future, if I do more international volunteering (which I probably will), I want to experience more and see more, so I probably will not go back to volunteer in Peru.
This country is beautiful and so diverse, just like every one of the boys that I work with. It is hard for me to stay mad at any of the boys when one minute they might be bothering me on purpose to get a reaction, and the next minute they are giving me a picture that they drew for me. It breaks my heart the histories and the conditions that these boys live in. Of course I don't mean the conditions of the casa hogares, because the conditions, while not up to North American standards (though I can't be too sure of this, I don't know how group homes in Canada are) are fine, but I mean the conditions in that many of unable to see their family, or no longer have family, etc. This position has certainly solidified my desire to work in social planning in the future, I want to be able to make a change in somebody's life for the better. While urban design is very interesting to me, there are inherent social issues embedded in the world of private and corporate urban design that I cannot come to terms with. Perhaps in the future I will find a socially conscious urban design company to work for, perhaps not. Either way, I am sure that I will know what decision to make when the time comes.
Perhaps this internship hasn't been the best, nor has it been the worst, but I wouldn't have traded it for anything. Yes of course, many times at work I get bored because the boys are at school, or are otherwise occupied with chores or homework and there isn't much for the volunteer to do. But at the same time, getting to know these boys, their stories and becoming their friend is an experience that is a reward itself. Though it's hard to see that sometimes, when you take a step back and really take a look, it becomes clear. Perhaps I haven't been able to make a big impact on these boys alone, with my short time here, but they have made a very big impact on me. And I hope to take these effects with me back home, and forever keep them in my mind when I am out in the work (or volunteer) force in the future. Every little thing I do to help make the world a better place (I know, I sound so corny and lame right now), I will think of these boys because it is people like them that I am doing things for.
Apart from that, I am also very glad to be (almost) finished the internship and (almost) returning to Canada. I miss my friends dearly, my family...well, my sister arrives in Lima tonight and living in Ontario I don' really get to see my parents that often anyway. I miss cooking my own food and trying out new recipes, or doing things like baking cookies at 1am in the morning. I miss my bike and riding it everywhere, even if it gives me swass (sweaty ass) and god awful calluses on my hands, I just love biking everywhere. Of course I also miss my collection of clothing, shoes, bags, accessories etc, having come here with just a backpack (albeit a large one)...yes I realize how girly and also spoiled I sound. I also miss school...oddly enough, the late hours in the studio making models until my fingers hurt and I want to stab myself with the narrow pointy end of my set square, or otherwise furiously pounding out papers in the wee hours of the morning, and printing and handing them in juuustt before they are due. I miss the weather even, oddly enough - the weather here in Lima is always beautiful, but there is something really nice about a chilly autumn day and bundling up in scarves, mitts and carrying a cup of hot coffee. Speaking of hot coffee, I also miss my god awful Tim Hortons large-double-double "coffee". I don't care if it doesn't really qualify for real coffee, I love it hahaha!
I also miss my house in Waterloo...though I haven't lived there for very long (barely 4 months) I feel so at home there. I even miss Waterloo, which is so strange for me to say now considering how much I hated the city when I first moved there. Of course I miss Toronto, it's a big city as well, like Lima, but it's different in a way that I can't say if I prefer it more or not, I like both cities.
In all, there are lots of things I miss about Canada. But I am sure that when I get back to Canada, I will be able to think of a plethora of things that I miss about Lima and Peru in general. That being said, it's 10:08 and I am extremely sleepy, I think I will sneak in a quick nap before heading out to the airport to get my sister.
Talk to you later dear readers!
Saludos,
Renee
Monday, March 30, 2009
RightWithTheDownCrowd
Post title from the song "RightWithTheDownCrowd" by The Pica Beats. Good band, discovered thanks to my podcast to Sub Pop Records. I also recently rediscovered Sandro Perri of Toronto. I'm just throwing it out there, Canada's got some good music, though the Pica Beats are from Seattle. Another good find that I got into this summer is I am Robot and Proud (also from Toronto). Anyway, I digress, the point of this post is not so that people like Jeremy (sorry J-Ho had to pick on you) can find fuel to continue calling me a pretentious indie bastard but to continue my adventures about Peru (though I am sure once I return to Canada I will continue this blog, under a different title).
So where did I leave off? Righto...Machu Picchu. From Machu Picchu I went to, respectively:
Pisco
Paracas - Isla de Ballestas and the National Parque Reserve
Nazca
Huaraz
Trujillo
The bus ride to Pisco was okay, other than the fact that it was cramped and the movies sucked. We arrived in Pisco around 9 and made our way to our hostel. Now if you know about Pisco, there was quite a major earthquake that occurred in 2007, and you can tell. I feel very sad for the town, at its height, I am sure it was beautiful. The aftermath of the earthquake still lays thick in the air of this sleepy little town. It's not just that most of the town still lies in shamble, with rubble and broken buildings on every corner, but you can feel it from the people. I didn't know about the earthquake before I went (because I am an ignoramus like that) but I couldn't help but feel that something was up. I feel for the lives lost and I hope that everything works out for Pisco.
Digressing from that, Kevin and I arrived at our hostal which was recommended from the Lonely Planet, but I would personally like to remove that recommendation. Sleeping in that bed felt like sleepy in a cushy bowl...your middle sunken in, and your head and feet raised. It made my back in a happy state the next morning (note the sarcasm). The next morning we made our way to the Ballestas Islands and the Paracas National Park Reserve, which was pretty amazing. I was able to see penguins, sealions, boobies (that's what they're called), storks and some other birds that I don't remember at the island, and then told that the first people to work there were Chinese people and that apparently a lot of us committed suicide because we couldn't deal with the smell or the work (damn son). After the island we took some lunch and made our way to the Park Reserve. The only way I can really describe the park reserve is just...stretches and stretches of quiet and almost eerie mounds and flats of sand. The thing I love about Peru is just how different the landscape is, in a country that is maybe as large as 2 Canadian provinces. Here is a country where you have the coast, the desert, the mountains and the jungle - and every different landscape has such a different culture and feeling as well (I personally am more of a fan of the coastal lifestyle, it's much more laid back than the sierra). We saw some beautiful coastal scenes and a museum (which was boring) and basically enjoyed driving through the desert scenery. (my photos of the island have not been uploaded yet. Picasa is super slow!!)
The next day we went to Nazca, boarded a Cessna (yes the small planes that crash often) to see the Nazca lines. Even though the plane ride was expensive, it plane ride itself is an experience (for some...a bad experience as we witnessed somebody's breakfast on the pavement on our way to the plane). I almost lost my own breakfast myself the first time the pilot turned the plane to the side...I guess no amount of riding rides at the amusement park will prepare you for that! The lines were cool to see, but in a way I was more interested in the desert scenery once again. It was pretty see everything from a bird's eye point of view.
Kevin in the Cessna
Me in the Cessna...though you can't really tell
Hee hee, cute astronaut Nazca Line
The bus ride back from Nazca was pretty shit. We took a taxi back to Pisco and from there a taxi ride to the bus station for Ica. I really use the word bus station loosely...it was more like a canopy tent, like this
kind of in the middle of nowhere at the side of a highway. Once we boarded the bus we had to change buses at Ica back to Pisco...both bus rides were unbearably hot, even with the window open and the bus going at 500 billion mph. Not to mention there was no bathroom on the bus, but luckily neither of us had a sudden attack of diarrhea or something.
The following week went by like it usually does without a problem and by the next weekend, we were boarding an overnight bus to Huaraz, which is in the sierra. Once again, I saw my life flash before my eyes about a billion times as the double decker bus dashed through the narrow, and unpaved roads, turning way too sharply and not braking quite as often as it should have. That is bus rides for you in Peru as it is. Huaraz is an interesting town, aesthetically it is not as nice as other places in the sierra, like Cusco or Ollantaytambo, but I found the people much nicer, but the dogs a lot more terrifying (as in they will chase you). We made our way to Chavin as well as a lagoon in the mountains. The lagoon was pretty disappointing, but I guess growing up in Alberta with access to the Rocky Mountains, I have seen some pretty spectacular mountain scenery. Chavin was disappointing until we managed to get under the ruins, in the catacombs (is that what you call them)? It was eerie and the superstitious part of me had me kept thinking that the place was haunted and that something was going to pop out and scare the crap out of me, but luckily...none of that did happen. The scariest part of the whole Chavin trip was more the bus driver, who would try to miss every pothole in the road, but in the process of doing swerve and careen a little too close to comfort to the edge of the cliff. I was pretty angry actually that the bus driver was driving with such recklessness, considering that in his hands were the lives of about 10 other people, even when it started raining on our way back to Huaraz, he kept driving like this. But, we managed to make it alive.
The next day we took a private taxi to Canon del Pato, where I proceeded to walk on a narrow path, and at some points clambering over rocks in my flip flops...overlooking a drop of at least 200 meters. But it was a cool experience, the canyon is pretty narrow in terms of a canyon and completely unregulated. It's not like the Grand Canyon in the states where there are so many other tourists, and its all roped off...here you are literally walking through the tunnels of the canyon (where I was told there were many bats) and then to the edge overlooking the cliff, and into the river that rushes down below. The formation of the rock almost looks like it's something out of a movie set, but the sounds of the water and the feel of the sandy floor on your feet tell you otherwise. My heart was pounding in my chest the entire time we were in the canyon as I worried that my clumsiness would lead me to certain death. Afterwards we visited the remains of the town of Yungay. Like Pisco, it was an eerie feeling. Yungay, in the 70s, was buried under a landslide after an earthquake occurred and nearly the entire town was killed. The government has declared that nothing be excavated and that the entire site be declared a national cemetery. I couldn't help but feel a little tug at my heart when I was standing there, over what used to be a thriving town. I guess it's very different hearing about a tragedy on TV and then being at the place where it had happened. Seems to touch you on a more personal level, even though I know that I have not experienced tragedy like that (and I hope not to ever also).
Remains of a bus that was buried under the landslide
After Yungay we made our way back to Huaraz. The one thing I never get used to in Peru in smaller cities, on Sundays almost everything closes early and you would be hard pressed to find any place to find dinner. After some aimless wandering we happened upon a random restaurant with a "real French chef" (as was their advertisement on the door haha). I had some delicious gnocchi and Inka Cola (which I will really miss when I leave! I never drink pop, but I have fallen in love with Inka Cola). When we returned to the hostal to pick up our bag, we sat and played cards for a bit to kill time since everything in the town was closed...then it started to rain. Hard. When the time came to make our way to the bus station, we couldn't get through to call a cab, and then couldn't find one on the streets so we walked our way to the bus station, arriving wet and cold. So...we had to sit a 8 or 9 hour so bus ride, smelling like wet dog since also neither of us had been able to take a proper shower since a) when I tried to take one, the water turned freezing cold and b) the next morning we woke up late and didn't have time to shower). By the time we arrived in Lima I am sure the combination of both of our body odour was enough to make somebody gag.
The same Tuesday, Kevin left at the ungodly hour of 4am in the morning. I continued my week at work, prepared my final presentation for Students Without Borders and boarded a bus to Trujillo Friday afternoon. I spent 9 hours on the bus with waves of stomach pain, which I attribute to the sketchy "arroz con pollo" or possibly the papa rellena that the bus company fed to us. I would spend the rest of the weekend with cramps and going to the bathroom quite often, enough to make it start to "hurt to wipe" (as I am sure everybody wants to know that hahaha). Trujillo is a nice city, and has the same laidback coastal feel as Lima, but not quite as much as the chaos that is present in Lima. Simon and I did our final presentations, which I feel like I bombed but everybody else said I did okay. I literally read right off the paper I had prepared, because I just don't trust myself to speak Spanish that well off the top of my head.
Afterwards we went to Huanchaco and enjoyed the beach scenery for a bit. I am still pretty underwhelmed with beaches in Peru. I mean, it was still nice but nothing like stretches of white sand, clear blue skies and warm clean water. I enjoyed some ceviche, which was probably a bad idea as its raw fish when i have stomach problems already. Simon's friend, Leon came the same Saturday night. Poor guy was on the bus for about 30 hours because of a landslide up north...so far I have been lucky and haven't really encountered things like this, lets hope that my luck keeps with me. The Sunday we made our way to Chan-Chan, but by then the three of us were just so tired, me still sick, that we just...couldn't really appreciate it. I mean, the ruins were still very neat and it was very cool to be standing in a site that existed centuries ago...but I guess when you're tired it's hard to pay attention.
The bus ride back to Lima was shite as I can't fall asleep on overnight buses, and it was coupled by the fact that I was still getting stomach cramps every half hour. I was pretty worried that I would have an attack at some point during the night and have to use the toilet on the bus which is to be used "solamente por urinar". Screw that, if my stomach is killing me it's killing me. I am not going to ask the bus-driver to make a coordinated bus stop when I have to go now!
Oi vay. Anyway...I have the hugest headache as I write this. I think I will go make a cup of tea and down a couple of midols...since those are the only painkillers I have right now. But they work for headaches just as well as for uterus aches! Entonces, me voy mis amigos! Te hablo el siguente vece!
Buenos noches,
Renee
So where did I leave off? Righto...Machu Picchu. From Machu Picchu I went to, respectively:
The bus ride to Pisco was okay, other than the fact that it was cramped and the movies sucked. We arrived in Pisco around 9 and made our way to our hostel. Now if you know about Pisco, there was quite a major earthquake that occurred in 2007, and you can tell. I feel very sad for the town, at its height, I am sure it was beautiful. The aftermath of the earthquake still lays thick in the air of this sleepy little town. It's not just that most of the town still lies in shamble, with rubble and broken buildings on every corner, but you can feel it from the people. I didn't know about the earthquake before I went (because I am an ignoramus like that) but I couldn't help but feel that something was up. I feel for the lives lost and I hope that everything works out for Pisco.
Digressing from that, Kevin and I arrived at our hostal which was recommended from the Lonely Planet, but I would personally like to remove that recommendation. Sleeping in that bed felt like sleepy in a cushy bowl...your middle sunken in, and your head and feet raised. It made my back in a happy state the next morning (note the sarcasm). The next morning we made our way to the Ballestas Islands and the Paracas National Park Reserve, which was pretty amazing. I was able to see penguins, sealions, boobies (that's what they're called), storks and some other birds that I don't remember at the island, and then told that the first people to work there were Chinese people and that apparently a lot of us committed suicide because we couldn't deal with the smell or the work (damn son). After the island we took some lunch and made our way to the Park Reserve. The only way I can really describe the park reserve is just...stretches and stretches of quiet and almost eerie mounds and flats of sand. The thing I love about Peru is just how different the landscape is, in a country that is maybe as large as 2 Canadian provinces. Here is a country where you have the coast, the desert, the mountains and the jungle - and every different landscape has such a different culture and feeling as well (I personally am more of a fan of the coastal lifestyle, it's much more laid back than the sierra). We saw some beautiful coastal scenes and a museum (which was boring) and basically enjoyed driving through the desert scenery. (my photos of the island have not been uploaded yet. Picasa is super slow!!)
The next day we went to Nazca, boarded a Cessna (yes the small planes that crash often) to see the Nazca lines. Even though the plane ride was expensive, it plane ride itself is an experience (for some...a bad experience as we witnessed somebody's breakfast on the pavement on our way to the plane). I almost lost my own breakfast myself the first time the pilot turned the plane to the side...I guess no amount of riding rides at the amusement park will prepare you for that! The lines were cool to see, but in a way I was more interested in the desert scenery once again. It was pretty see everything from a bird's eye point of view.
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
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| From Nazca |
The bus ride back from Nazca was pretty shit. We took a taxi back to Pisco and from there a taxi ride to the bus station for Ica. I really use the word bus station loosely...it was more like a canopy tent, like this
kind of in the middle of nowhere at the side of a highway. Once we boarded the bus we had to change buses at Ica back to Pisco...both bus rides were unbearably hot, even with the window open and the bus going at 500 billion mph. Not to mention there was no bathroom on the bus, but luckily neither of us had a sudden attack of diarrhea or something.
The following week went by like it usually does without a problem and by the next weekend, we were boarding an overnight bus to Huaraz, which is in the sierra. Once again, I saw my life flash before my eyes about a billion times as the double decker bus dashed through the narrow, and unpaved roads, turning way too sharply and not braking quite as often as it should have. That is bus rides for you in Peru as it is. Huaraz is an interesting town, aesthetically it is not as nice as other places in the sierra, like Cusco or Ollantaytambo, but I found the people much nicer, but the dogs a lot more terrifying (as in they will chase you). We made our way to Chavin as well as a lagoon in the mountains. The lagoon was pretty disappointing, but I guess growing up in Alberta with access to the Rocky Mountains, I have seen some pretty spectacular mountain scenery. Chavin was disappointing until we managed to get under the ruins, in the catacombs (is that what you call them)? It was eerie and the superstitious part of me had me kept thinking that the place was haunted and that something was going to pop out and scare the crap out of me, but luckily...none of that did happen. The scariest part of the whole Chavin trip was more the bus driver, who would try to miss every pothole in the road, but in the process of doing swerve and careen a little too close to comfort to the edge of the cliff. I was pretty angry actually that the bus driver was driving with such recklessness, considering that in his hands were the lives of about 10 other people, even when it started raining on our way back to Huaraz, he kept driving like this. But, we managed to make it alive.
The next day we took a private taxi to Canon del Pato, where I proceeded to walk on a narrow path, and at some points clambering over rocks in my flip flops...overlooking a drop of at least 200 meters. But it was a cool experience, the canyon is pretty narrow in terms of a canyon and completely unregulated. It's not like the Grand Canyon in the states where there are so many other tourists, and its all roped off...here you are literally walking through the tunnels of the canyon (where I was told there were many bats) and then to the edge overlooking the cliff, and into the river that rushes down below. The formation of the rock almost looks like it's something out of a movie set, but the sounds of the water and the feel of the sandy floor on your feet tell you otherwise. My heart was pounding in my chest the entire time we were in the canyon as I worried that my clumsiness would lead me to certain death. Afterwards we visited the remains of the town of Yungay. Like Pisco, it was an eerie feeling. Yungay, in the 70s, was buried under a landslide after an earthquake occurred and nearly the entire town was killed. The government has declared that nothing be excavated and that the entire site be declared a national cemetery. I couldn't help but feel a little tug at my heart when I was standing there, over what used to be a thriving town. I guess it's very different hearing about a tragedy on TV and then being at the place where it had happened. Seems to touch you on a more personal level, even though I know that I have not experienced tragedy like that (and I hope not to ever also).
After Yungay we made our way back to Huaraz. The one thing I never get used to in Peru in smaller cities, on Sundays almost everything closes early and you would be hard pressed to find any place to find dinner. After some aimless wandering we happened upon a random restaurant with a "real French chef" (as was their advertisement on the door haha). I had some delicious gnocchi and Inka Cola (which I will really miss when I leave! I never drink pop, but I have fallen in love with Inka Cola). When we returned to the hostal to pick up our bag, we sat and played cards for a bit to kill time since everything in the town was closed...then it started to rain. Hard. When the time came to make our way to the bus station, we couldn't get through to call a cab, and then couldn't find one on the streets so we walked our way to the bus station, arriving wet and cold. So...we had to sit a 8 or 9 hour so bus ride, smelling like wet dog since also neither of us had been able to take a proper shower since a) when I tried to take one, the water turned freezing cold and b) the next morning we woke up late and didn't have time to shower). By the time we arrived in Lima I am sure the combination of both of our body odour was enough to make somebody gag.
The same Tuesday, Kevin left at the ungodly hour of 4am in the morning. I continued my week at work, prepared my final presentation for Students Without Borders and boarded a bus to Trujillo Friday afternoon. I spent 9 hours on the bus with waves of stomach pain, which I attribute to the sketchy "arroz con pollo" or possibly the papa rellena that the bus company fed to us. I would spend the rest of the weekend with cramps and going to the bathroom quite often, enough to make it start to "hurt to wipe" (as I am sure everybody wants to know that hahaha). Trujillo is a nice city, and has the same laidback coastal feel as Lima, but not quite as much as the chaos that is present in Lima. Simon and I did our final presentations, which I feel like I bombed but everybody else said I did okay. I literally read right off the paper I had prepared, because I just don't trust myself to speak Spanish that well off the top of my head.
Afterwards we went to Huanchaco and enjoyed the beach scenery for a bit. I am still pretty underwhelmed with beaches in Peru. I mean, it was still nice but nothing like stretches of white sand, clear blue skies and warm clean water. I enjoyed some ceviche, which was probably a bad idea as its raw fish when i have stomach problems already. Simon's friend, Leon came the same Saturday night. Poor guy was on the bus for about 30 hours because of a landslide up north...so far I have been lucky and haven't really encountered things like this, lets hope that my luck keeps with me. The Sunday we made our way to Chan-Chan, but by then the three of us were just so tired, me still sick, that we just...couldn't really appreciate it. I mean, the ruins were still very neat and it was very cool to be standing in a site that existed centuries ago...but I guess when you're tired it's hard to pay attention.
The bus ride back to Lima was shite as I can't fall asleep on overnight buses, and it was coupled by the fact that I was still getting stomach cramps every half hour. I was pretty worried that I would have an attack at some point during the night and have to use the toilet on the bus which is to be used "solamente por urinar". Screw that, if my stomach is killing me it's killing me. I am not going to ask the bus-driver to make a coordinated bus stop when I have to go now!
Oi vay. Anyway...I have the hugest headache as I write this. I think I will go make a cup of tea and down a couple of midols...since those are the only painkillers I have right now. But they work for headaches just as well as for uterus aches! Entonces, me voy mis amigos! Te hablo el siguente vece!
Buenos noches,
Renee
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