A bit of Bolivia!

Leaving Cusco was one of the hardest things we have had to do so far on this journey, saying goodbye to the kids who had filled our heads and our hearts for the last four months, our beautiful friends who had become our family and a city we had grown to love. Knowing we would return really didn’t make it any easier. The kids, staff and volunteers at WaaW threw us a big going away party with music and dancing, party games, cake, good food and home-made chicha morada (a delicious drink made from purple corn). It became fashionable that day to wear sun glasses inside to prevent the kids from seeing our red eyes, though there was no hiding our tears when it came time to say goodbye. It was hard to stop them, the tears that is, when beautiful Liseth was clinging to us for over half an hour after the other kids left, sobbing and asking us not to go. It made me wonder if it was fair on these kids, staying for such a long time, being such a huge part of their lives and then tearing ourselves out of it… But, that is not an easily answered question, nor is it a question I am willing to dwell on.

After our sad goodbyes we had to hang around in Cusco for a few more days while James was recovering from the removal of his wisdom teeth, not something that is super fun on an overseas trip, but travel insurance made it about one tenth of the price it would have been in Australia. We took an overnight bus to La Paz, Bolivia, forgetting Lonely Planet’s advice to dress decently during a border crossing we were taken in by the police for questioning, do we have drugs, do we take drugs, and are we bringing drugs to Bolivia? No, no, no. Poor James was frisk searched by a policeman who then gave him his business card at the end of the ordeal, ironically having an ‘Import, Export’ business on the side. 

James got there late as he was recovering from his
wisdom teeth removal the day before, the kids were
so excited that he came.

The boys organised a dance of 'Thriller' for us 

And I forgot to mention the commiseration drinks with Hannah and Hannah
after the going away party...

La Paz - 12th to the 14th of September

La Paz is a huge, busy city. In actual fact it has half the population of Melbourne, but after being in the quiet little Cusco for so long where you can walk anywhere in half an hour, La Paz is overwhelming, situated in a valley high in the mountains, every available space is taken up with buildings, climbing the mountains of the valley and all. We met up with our friends Hannah and Becca, who had arrived the day before, and hung out at a coffee shop before going to an arcade and the movies. We all found La Paz so overwhelming that we headed to the cinemas on our second day here as well. It would be an interesting city to live in, to get to know from the inside out, but being here a couple of days I think doesn’t quite do the city justice. 

Hannah and James playing arcade games before we went to the cinemas

Cochabamba - 15th to the 18th of September

From La Paz we took an overnight bus to Cochabamba, where Hannahs friend is volunteering at _____ an orphanage on the outskirts of town. We took a taxi to the orphanage in the morning and were lucky enough to be able to play with the 14 babies currently living there. While they were so happy and loved, they had a peculiar independence that I have never seen in babies before, they clung to us to cuddle and to play, but were also more than happy to play all alone. While an orphanage isn’t an ideal place for any little one, it would have been hard to make this lovely place any more inviting. We were picked up by Elena, long term volunteer at the orphanage, who has since moved to Cochabamba, married the man of dreams and has opened a guest house on the outskirts of town, a beautiful homely place with an amazing view. If anyone is heading there I would highly recommend it. We relaxed and napped for the afternoon before meeting up with Hannah and her friend Camilla for dinner. They invited us to head out with the founder of the orphanage, an American lady, Jennifer, to meet and hang out with a group of street kids living on a hill up above the main bus terminal. We took up the chance willingly, not quite sure what to expect. Jennifer has been working with the street kids for around 3 years, after gaining their trust she has become a mentor and an advocate, providing first aide, taking them to hospitals, protecting them from the police who frequently harass them, providing them with someone to call on in times of need. As we drove up towards the hill, already 7 of us in the 5 seater 4WD, a group of 4 local teenagers jumped in the car when we were stopped at a red light, we were overwhelmed by the smell of the glue that they were all sniffing. It was loud and frenzied, but we didn’t feel unsafe. When we got to the top of the dry hill we were led down a path through desert scrub and cactus’ to a makeshift shelter, a few tarps hung up from a crumbling wall, some logs around as a makeshift lounge area, the only light came from the moon and candles that Jennifer had asked some of the kids to go and buy. There were around 15 people living there, the youngest 14 and the oldest 28, the majority of whom were sniffing glue. They were friendly, happy for us to be there and willing to tell us their stories. Many of them had homes they could go to, though as Jennifer explained it often the violence of the streets hurts less than the violence of the home, it is less personal, easier to deal with, easier to forgive. There were three girls, the oldest was 26, with three children who had all passed through Jennifers orphanage, she could barely walk because of the damage to her nervous system done by the glue… The other two, one 24 and one no more than 16, were both pregnant. One of the young men was weeping for the whole time we were there, as his girlfriend had had a miscarriage the day before. The majority earned money by pickpocketing at the market and bus terminal, though a few earned a more honest wage by washing windscreens at traffic lights. The whole time we were there not once did we feel threatened or intimidated, more so we felt as though these people wanted to share their stories, show us how they lived and possibly gain some understanding. It was tough, really tough, to see, to hear, and to leave. It almost felt as though these ‘kids’ were too far gone to be helped. And as much as you ‘know’ it is out there, how can you go on living your normal life when you have actually seen it, met these people face to face? It is a question that I know will be hard to answer when we get home… But it also made me realise the importance of the work we were doing in Cusco, we were catching kids in very similar situations but before they became so far removed from a functioning life, aiming to prevent them falling into the life of the street kid. It was really an unforgettable, life changing day.

The next day, though still exhausted, James and I headed out to do some more pleasant, touristy things. We caught the teleferico (cable car) to the second tallest Jesus statue in the wall, yes even taller than the iconic Jesus in Rio De Janero, Brazil! We were able to climb up to his armpits, but from there the internal staircase was closed. How many people can say they have spent time in the second tallest Jesus’ armpits?!

The 17^th was James’ birthday! Elena made us a breakfast of pancakes and maple syrup, before we (James, Becca and I) went and met Hannah and Camilla at a local fast food store where we had coffees, went on a small expedition to find cake (where we also found silly string!) Went silly buying chocolates and sadly had to say our goodbyes to Hannah and Camilla. James, Becca and I headed to the market, we wandered for 3 hours and I’m sure didn’t even see half of it. James treated himself to some new clothes and Becca and I got our nails painted! A fun, relaxing day, before we retired to a dinner of nachos while introducing Becca to the sanctity that is ‘The Castle’. A wonderful day.

James and Jesus.

It is prohibited to urinate inside Christ.... just to let you know!

James enjoying a fancy coffee on his birthday morning!

And playing with his police lego toy!

Silly String!

Chocolates!

Becca sharing a laugh with the lady doing our nails

The night view from Elenas house, that is Christ glowing on top of the hill!

And the view in the day!

Sucre - 18th to the 19th of September

Rather than taking a 9 hour overnight bus ride to Sucre, on a bus with non-reclining seats and no toilets, we decided to splurge a whole $50 each and fly! In Sucre we ate well, stayed in a dodgy little hostel, visited the dinosaur park which is a vantage point for the largest amount of preserved dinosaur footprints anywhere in the world, on a vertical sandstone cliff face next to the park. It was really amazing but unfortunately rapidly deteriorating due to a lack of funding and an inability to stop the erosion of the sandstone.

Potosi - 19th to the 21st of September

After Sucre we headed on to Potosi, where James and Becca went on a tour of the mines, I wasn’t well enough to go, suffering from stomach troubles, nothing new there, but from all accounts it was a mind blowing experience, the miners were working in terrible conditions without safety precautions, the general life of a miner is about 10 years from when he starts working in the mines. I will let James tell you more about it. 

The beautiful plaza in Potosi where I spent much time
reading and drinking orange juice from that little cart.

Uyuni - 21st to the 27th of September

From Potosi we took a 4 hour bus ride to Uyuni, a small town on the outskirts of the worlds largest salt flats. We did a 3 day tour of the salt flats and the southern tip of Bolivia that is much better shown in pictures than in words, what an amazing experience…

We returned to Uyuni to find that the roads out were blocked due to miners strikes, the road transport system for the whole country had been shut down and flights were booked solid. Becca managed to get a flight out 2 nights after we got back, but we had to wait another night before we could get a bus. It wasn’t a very exciting time in Uyuni, but we met some lovely people, killed time by eating well, drinking well and going to the hairdressers! And after that an overnight bus back to La Paz.

La Paz - 28th of September to now!

Arriving in La Paz we found a super fancy expensive hotel to stay in for a couple of nights. One of these nights happened to be the night of the AFL grand final, after a little searching we found a hostel who was showing the game, though their big screen didn't work so we ended up sitting around with a group of other Australians watching the game on a laptop until half time, when the free shots of metho… sorry vodka… caught up on us and we headed back to the hotel. Mind you it was very late as well!

We spent a couple of days relaxing, walking through the city and seeing the sights. We biked down the ‘death road’ on the 2nd of October, an amazing, adrenalin fueled experience even for me, who went the slowest out of the whole group. It was an amazing day! At the end of the bike ride we were able to have our first swim in a river since leaving home, had a great lunch and visited the Senda Verde animal sanctuary, it was really beautiful and somewhere we are considering spending a couple of weeks and volunteering. 

Currently I am lying in bed recovering from my latest stomach bug, something I will not miss when we come home, and James is off climbing Hyayna Potosi, a giant volcano not far from here!

So… I think we are up to date with our adventures so far! 

Just a little bit of city life from our window...

Past, present, future.

Here in Cusco there is a street for everything, there is a street of hair dressers, a street of mattress shops, a street of key cutters and little tiny hardware stores, streets of stationary stores, streets of cheap shoes, and around the corner a street of slightly cheaper clothes, a street of veterinarians, and our least favourite, stinky meat street. If you want it, as long as you know where to look, you can find anything. Even happiness.  Right now my happiness lies in the laid back pace of the weekend, a delicious coffee, a vegemite roll and an amazing tax return. I suppose I can also attribute happiness to the inspiring people I am surrounded by – James, who I love even more each day, our gorgeous housemates Kelly and Ruben who are proving that anything is possible, a weekly changing but always amazing group of volunteers who we are working with, the blind man from Guatemala who I see at the supermarket, the man in the coffee shop who was trying to teach me Qechua, and so importantly the beautiful children we are working with – as well as where we are, what we are doing and what we have to look forward to.

Sometimes I still find it hard to believe where we are, over five months have now passed since we landed in Buenos Aires, all those hundreds of kilometres and experiences ago. I remember feeling a slight disappointment as we were flying above the city, heading into the airport, I’m not sure exactly what I expected, purple trees, orange grass, green sky, possibly not. But I thought it would look different, oh so different. From up in the air the city didn’t look that different at all. But our main problems in those early days of our trip were the differences, the different language, culture, a different way to communicate, different ways to get around. A different lifestyle.  Now I guess the most difficult issues we are facing are the differences that we are finding within ourselves as we learn and grow each day, as we move further away from who we were when we touched down in BA and closer to who we will be when this journey eventually merges back into life in Australia. Who knows who exactly we will be when our plane touches down in Melbourne in mid-January next year, I wonder will we be astounded at the sameness, or will we be seeing things with such a different vision that things will never again be familiar. Who knows, it’s a long way off and I have a lot of growing to do before then, and I’m glad I can’t predict the future, as it will be a whole other adventure when we get home.

About a month and a half ago we were at the Aldea on a beautiful Saturday, the doors wide open to let in the sun and the breeze, cleaning out the classroom. As with any classroom they very quickly acquire a whole lot of unnecessary ‘stuff’ if you aren’t careful, so we were there to sort out the crazy clutter. A sad little face had been looking in the door for a while, curious but not confident enough to step in, I asked his name, how old he was, if he wanted to come in to have a look. I was met with very little response, a name after much prompting, a little glimmer in the eye when Peluche, the households dog, jumped up to greet him. The best method I thought would be patience. I kept going about my business, adding to the pile of rubbish, putting the toys on the new shelfs, sorting out the puppets, occasionally asking a question or saying something silly to see if I could get the start of a smile. After five minutes or so the sad little face in the doorway turned into a little boy with worn out shoes standing on the first of two steps to enter the room, asking a question about the toys. A break was needed from tidying the room, so I upended a puzzle of farmyard animals on the table closest to the door and sat down to enjoy it, and possibly entice this sad little figure further into the room. The little man gave in to his inner child shortly after, and joined me at the table to help me with the puzzle, though still he didn’t say much at all. We sat for a while in silence, occasional congratulations for finding a puzzle piece, until the little man’s older sister walked past and saw him, telling him to come home. Before he was gone I asked him to come back with his mum on Monday afternoon, wouldn’t it be great to play with these toys every day?

Monday afternoon came and I was looking for his little face peeking through the door, but I never found it… I was a little disappointed but not surprised, I hadn’t noticed him in the neighbourhood before and guessed that his shyness may have overcome his desire to come along to WaaW. It was a couple of days more before I saw him again, enthusiastically asking him to bring his mum along tomorrow afternoon, met by very little response, maybe a twinkle in the eye, imagined or not I can’t be sure. It took a few more of these meetings in the street, but the following Friday his mum did come along and give her permission for him and one of his older brothers to start attending the program. Monday came and I was feeling pretty chuffed with my success, waiting and waiting, greeting the other kids as they came through the door but really hoping to see one particular little man’s face, which never appeared until the following day. When it did, it was through the window rather than the door that I saw his serious face, I went outside to chat, and after about 20 minutes finally persuaded him to come inside and join the other kids, as his big brother had without hesitation. For the first two or three days the only time I saw a hint of a smile was when Peluche tried to eat his snack, the first time I heard little guffaw of laughter was when he beat me at a maths game all of the kids were playing. He and his older brother have been coming to the program for around a month now. His older brother proving to be the almost exact opposite, a leader amongst the other kids, a charmer to the profes’, with enough confidence and kindness to make his life much easier than his little brothers. Though despite that over the weeks it has become very apparent they have a really tough life, they are the two youngest with seven brothers and sisters, living in a house without electricity or running water, wearing the same clothes day in and day out. Two weeks ago we noticed, on our Friday outing, that the little serious man was rummaging through bins, presumably to find food. It is just a little indication of how tough these kids have it, how easy it would be for them to resort to crime to survive, how hard it will be for these super smart kids to make a life for themselves, pull themselves out of poverty. The serious little man smiles a lot now, he is talking with the other kids and is becoming increasingly confident with the profesoras, he has proved to us he isn’t behind at all when it comes to his schooling, he concentrates well but still occasionally finds it hard to take that first step through the door into the classroom. He came and sat with me while another of our little men was reading to me, cuddling into me, for warmth or for comfort or just to see the pictures, I’m not sure. But he is often pretty close by me when I look up from what I’m doing.

The thing I worry about most for all for these beautiful, smart and loving kids, not just the little serious man and his older brother, is the future. Right now all is well and good, we are putting food in their bellies and a little warmth and joy in their lives. They respond with gratefulness and love to everyone involved, they prove to be kids built from the right stuff, despite their hardships they care so much about each other, always putting their friends and siblings first, sharing what they have and rarely longing for anything they don’t have. They have resilience that any teacher in Australia would be astounded by, after all it is a necessity in their life to be resilient to cope with the stresses and hardships that they face daily, obstacles that they rarely see as hardships, as they are, realistically, just part of a normal life for everyone they know.

These kids are living it up now, full bellies, people who want nothing but to see these kids happy, but how can we change their futures that have been laid out in front of them by poverty?  I think it’s a question that really is impossible to answer, but I hope in some ways we are making a small change, if not just to the present, to the future as well…

So, on a lighter note, a little insight into what we have been doing over the last couple of weeks. Last week we took off on a trek with Kelly and Ruben to Choquequirao, it was an amazing and extremely difficult trek, worth it for the experience, for the amazing ruins at the end of it, and for the walk in itself.  Check out some photos:

Getting ready to head off on our trek

Contemplating the world

Our Mule, begrudgingly carrying our things,
better him than me!

Hmmm, what would happen if I threw a rock down there?!

A lonely little tree.

Touching the moon.

Do Not Lean!

The sun setting over the Apurimac Valley towards
the end of our first day.

The moon and the crazy Dr. Suess trees.

If you look closely you can see the crazy climb we have to do tomorrow!

Contemplating the climb, hold me up James!

A tiny little town where we stopped to eat lunch on day 2, a long walk from
anywhere.

Cock of the mountain!

Our first glimpse of Choquequirao, only around 30% of the ruins have been
uncovered from the jungle, what you can see here is mostly terracing, at the
top of the mountain is the town, though the whole hillside is covered in
hidden ruins

Our inspiration for a day of 13km, crazy uphill the whole way.

Some of the ruins.

Look what I discovered!!!

The three explorers... I was stuck in the tent with terrible stomach cramps :(

Incan soccer balls!

The moon rise from our campsite

Despite my stomach problems I made it up to the
ruins for the evening
 (about 2km uphill from our campsite).

Camping under the southern cross, we felt
right at home.

A beautiful mountain creek.

It's easier to see in this photo the crazy hill we
went up 2 days before!

After our trek I made my way promptly to the hospital to be diagnosed with an amoeba parasite, I was given a whole lot of drugs and sent home. And during the week just past James spent 3 days being waited on hand and foot, watching a plasma TV and relaxing… with a  drip in his arm in the hospital. Another bout of gastro, nothing new, a whole lot of antibiotics and fluids, but all is well now! A bacterial infection, luckily nothing too serious.

Where will the coming weeks take us?? We are here for another month in Cusco, most likely finishing up our volunteering in around three weeks and spending our last week doing all of the touristy things we are yet to do here. And from there… who knows, we are dreaming of volunteering at a wildlife sanctuary in the jungle of Bolivia, drinking cocktails on the Caribbean Sea and following in Charles Darwin’s footsteps in the Galapagos…. I guess we need to wait and see.

Strength

“I thought she was a strong girl,” I heard my grandads newest lady friend say from their bedroom down the hall, after my sobbing had subsided enough for me to hear anything.

“She is strong,” grandad replied, “but she can be emotional too.”

Sometimes a memory is a seed that has been planted, lying dormant in the deepest part of the brain, until something awakens it. This memory has been replaying in my mind often over the last few weeks, and while it has always been vivid it has never had a whole lot of significance until now.

The last few weeks have been hard, there isn’t another way to say it, and it has made me ponder the meaning of strength… Is it showing strength to stay in a situation that you don’t want to be in? Is it strong to put on a brave face when all you want to do is curl in a ball and cry? Is strength keeping your worries and troubles inside, letting them eat you up, refusing to talk about them? Or is strength more about acceptance, rather than avoidance, more about working and learning than it is soley about making it away from that place in which you don’t want to be.

At the start of this year I never realised how much strength I would need for this journey. Stepping into the airplane, not looking back, holding back the tears as best I could, that was strong. Sleeping in a half demolished farm house in Argentina, being eaten alive by mosquitoes, that was strong, as was telling the truth the next day and getting ourselves out of that situation. Meeting amazing people and having to say goodbye is always a test of strength. A month ago when we were living without power, I thought maybe it was strong to have a cold shower without complaining. Two weeks ago perhaps I was showing strength when I smiled at our landlady while she was shouting at me for breaking the electricity or closing the door too loudly or something or other. Last week I tried so hard to be strong when I found out my beautiful Tyson has cancer, but I couldn’t be strong. I broke down as soon as one of the kids at WaaW asked me what was wrong. But perhaps that was showing a strength in itself, showing these kids with a million hardships that sometimes even the profe can’t be strong, it’s okay to let it out. Last week it was strong to ask for help, to step up and demand fair treatment by asking a one of our teachers to help us reclaim our bond. Earlier this week I was strong when, after three days of broken promises of furniture in our new apartment I stepped outside my comfort zone and said no.  Enough is enough. I would prefer to be homeless than to put up with the type lies that can only be told when they can’t be fully understood. Yesterday I was strong in the taxi, while I was holding back tears an wondering just exactly where we would end up. I know I always have something and someone to fall back on, and for that I am lucky. 

Through all of our dramas, all it takes is for that little face peering in off the street to bring me back to reality, to make me realise that all of this strength I have is nothing compared to the kid out on the cold street at midnight selling finger puppets to the drunk tourists, the six year old who has just had two teeth pulled opening his mouth up wide to show you, the little man who fell out of a second floor window and a week later is up and running, telling the us how much he missed us. All it takes is the grateful hug of an eleven year old boy, 'Gracias Profe', to make it all worthwhile.

Strength always means different things in different situations. Strength isn't always about holding back the tears when nothing is going right, strength is getting past those tears to what is beyond them, an experience from which to learn and grow. Beyond those tears and that hardship there will always be something positive, be it lady luck at the other end, a new friend or even just a memory, as long as you keep pushing you’ll come across it eventually, as we have, here in our beautiful new apartment with two lofts, our beautiful friends, a package waiting at the post office to be picked up tomorrow and a little chihauhau in the courtyard to keep us company.

Thank you luck, thank you strength, and thank you James for holding me together over the last couple of weeks. Once again, with electricity, a place to call home and exciting things happening at the Aldea, I have re-claimed my optimism. I feel strong.