TravelStream™ news feed for member jar_mes on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/jar_mes en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Fri, 19 Oct 2007 11:40:47 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1192807020/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1192807020/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1192807020/tpod.html Fri, 19 Oct 2007 11:40:47 -0400 Following in the footsteps of Ernesto, James explores the land of the Inca.

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Cusco, Peru

Living with Llamas up in the Sky - an account of working life in an Andean city

So why Peru? They kept asking.
Well I guess it started with the Andes - those inspiring, sepia photos in dusty, old geography books. Then I discovered the music, the football and the revolutionary vibes of the strong, leftist political traditions.
I wanted a taste of this.
And so, armed with TEFL certificate, I booked my flights and the adventure was set in motion.
Geographically, Peru's got-the-lot, being divided west-east into three distinct bands: La Costa (the coast), La Sierra (the mountains) and La Selva (the jungle). And they speak Spanish - a language I could actually get my head around.
I decided to go to the city of Cusco, home of Machu Picchu - the breathtaking citadel built in the clouds by the mysterious Incas.
After arriving, things happened very quickly. First there was the theft of my camera - taken from my bag on a night bus. To the amusement of my girlfriend, I was robbed on three occasions during my stay; she travelled without loss despite remaining in the continent for twice as long.
There was no time for mourning this loss of snap-shot memories because I soon moved in with Beatriz - my host mum. In those first few days, I remember feeling intensely happy but totally overwhelmed by the language barrier and Beatriz clearly loved to talk. In our first meeting alone she covered everything from Peruvian politics, to her Incan ancestry, to her favourite Mexican soaps.
Didn't she realise I couldn't speak Spanish?
This sensation of being thrown in at the deep end continued to my first day at school. I met the English teacher and tried to explain the aim of my trip. She just smiled and told me to tell it to the kids - yep you guessed it - in Spanish!
My role at first was to assist by marking homework and using my voice to replace the annoying American cassette.


One ongoing difficulty was the English teacher's almost complete lack of English. I watched her conduct English lessons entirely in Spanish.
I think she appreciated my help but never truly got the concept of volunteer teaching. I realised this because halfway through each morning she would ask me if I wanted to take the rest of the day off for sight-seeing. At first, I couldn't understand her attitude but after a few weeks of witnessing the strife and turbulence of working life in Peru I realised how she might find it strange for someone to voluntarily enter into this.
The political situation in Peru is complex. The president Alan Garcia narrowly won the election in 2006 despite resigning, disgraced from his first presidency in 1990 following record hyperinflation, wide-spread corruption and a Maoist insurgency. His latest election campaign was based on the slogan 'I've learned from my mistakes' but it's clear, these mistakes are still fresh in the minds of Peruvians and he was re-elected as 'the lesser of two evils'.
Earlier this year he proposed regulatory competency exams for all teachers where three fails could result in a teacher being sacked. Incensed unions claim this will undermine their political power enabling the government to 'fire at will'.
There was a series of strikes lined up with the prospect of a huelga indefinido - an indefinite strike.
And it wasn't just education workers who were unhappy, there were strikes planned in the health and transport sectors, and in July, Cusco would experience a Parot - a one day general strike across all employment sectors.
Beatriz explained that many Cusquenans hold a general distrust of Lima - the capital and seat of government, seen to represent the chaotic, soulless culture imposed by the cut-throat Spanish colonists.

Despite the political unrest, Cusco is a beautiful place with a welcoming culture. The things I loved most were the insanely bright traditional costumes, the breath-taking Andean scenery and the Cusquenan desire to party at any opportunity.
It was also the little things. Like guinea pig being the national dish, like the obsession with coca leaves and like the Cusco bars with their free entry - free drinks policy.
And my home stay was great. Beatriz and her boyfriend Alfonso truly immersed me in Cusquenan culture - bombarding me with Spanish, treating me to various culinary delights (including guinea pig) and taking me to loads of colourful festivals. Importantly, my Spanish was improving and I was having much more impact in school. The kids were starting to accept my strange blond hair and funny accent and I was taking classes by myself.


But the strikes were occurring more frequently now - almost weekly. One day I turned up to class and the teacher was a no-show. She was part of an extreme union sub-group who'd called the strike - she'd just 'forgotten to tell me'. Without any lesson plan, I entertained the kids with a quiz before sending them home early.
In the build up to July's Parot, the city seemed a little edgy and I was expecting grave faces and heated protests, but when the day arrived, it was very surprising. People seemed relaxed and poured into parks to play football. Apparently, football tournaments are something of a tradition during Parot days.
For me, this response seemed to encapsulate something about the acceptance of Cusquenans stretching right back to the conquest days. In the 16th Century when Pizarro and his men invaded, it was the first time village folk had seen large horses backed by armoured men. The Spanish were cruel and brutal but these 'blond giants' were seen by some as gods come to show them a better life.
The invaders also spread their religion through Jesuit missionaries. To make Christianity more accessible the Jesuits incorporated Incan symbology resulting in things like snake-draped crucifixes and paintings of a guinea pig last supper.
When change is enforced in the Andes there is a natural resistance but people make the most of the situation. Andeans hold very strong traditions and a have a strong sense of their position in the 'Pachamama' or Mother Earth.
I believe Andeans are adaptable. They will adapt to the modern world but only at their pace and without sacrifice of their core values. Surely this is something to commend.


Following the Parot, talks between unions and the government broke down entirely and my work came to an abrupt end as the teachers entered into the indefinite strike.
In one respect, my project in Peru ended in shambles, but in no sense do I feel short-changed by the experience. I wanted a genuine taste of South American culture and this is exactly what I got.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1181604480/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1181604480/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1181604480/tpod.html Fri, 15 Jun 2007 13:19:13 -0400 Following in the footsteps of Ernesto, James explores the land of the Inca.

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Machu Picchu, Cusco, Peru

Salcantay Mountain Pass - The Alternative Path to Machu Picchu


Ask anyone what they know about Peru and you´ll probably get the classic response "err... there´s llamas... the incas... oh yeah and that really old city... what´s it called... Machu Picchu"
I guess, before coming to Peru, the Inca trail and Machu Picchu were the things I had greatest expectations for. I just hadn´t realised I´d be a part of it quite so soon into my journey...

Read any guide book about living at altitude in the Andes and without exception they´ll all advise that you take it easy for the first week or so. ´Just hang out in cafes and definitely avoid strenuous exercise.´ This is all very well but what these books don´t take into account is that I´m travelling with Rowena - one of my top three craziest friends from university. With the backing of her two friends Jenny and Sarah, there was no negotiation and within twenty hours I was in a white water raft on the Urabamba River wondering how the hell I´d got there. Despite saying over and over to Row that I wouldn't go, I eventually buckled and it was actually a really good laugh and it was only later that I paid the price. My third and fourth days in Peru were spent lounging around the hostel feeling nauseas with barely any energy. I tried to combat this ´man-flu´ by drinking copious amounts of coca tea - a herbal concoction used for centuries by Andeans to alleviate altitude sickness which, despite being scientifically untested, is actually really good stuff and it started to drag me out of my stupor.

As soon as you start researching the Inca trail you soon realise just how popular it is amongst travellers and just how difficult it is to secure a place on it. None of us had been organised enough to place a booking, so instead we signed up to one of the many alternative treks to Macchu Picchu. The one we settled on - The Salcantay Mountain Pass, has an extra day to the official trail and the trekking is apparently more difficult. It was now Thursday and the trek began on Saturday so it was a race for me to recover.

I must admit, it was a real effort to drag myself out of bed at 4 am on that first day. We were joined by a couple from England, a French couple - both PE teachers, and three Australians of the outdoorsy type. Oh and our guide Javier was nicknamed ´Fisai´ - ´the fast one´ so needless to say, they were all a lot fitter and faster than we were and we knew it was going to be hard work to keep up.
Despite these early fears the first day wasn´t quite the daemon I´d anticipated. It was one of those days when, because you´ve barely slept, you´re shattered and you never quite wake up. Your legs never quite realise the pain they´re in - until the next day that is.
The first night of camping was at sub zero temperatures so we had our dinner huddled together in a little tent. In the head-torchlight, our guide Javier introduced us to his religion ´Patcha Mama´, basically a celebration of mother earth and all the elements within it. He explained that the following day, we would conduct a small ceremony on Salcantay Mountain. We would collect rocks at the base of the mountain and then carry them to the highpoint of the Pass where we would construct a small structure from the rocks and offer coca leaves to Pacha Mama. He also said day two was going to be really tough, so with this in mind we all retired to our tents by nine.

At the start of day two my legs actually felt like cold metal rods that would never work again. Unfortunately, staying wasn´t an option and we were on the path again by seven. After an initial one hour ascent we reached a plateau at the base of the mountain pass and Javier invited us to select our rocks for the ceremony (as if the climb wasn´t going to be hard enough already!)
The following two hours were easily the most testing of the whole trek and I genuinely believe it was only the chewing of coca leaves that prevented me from collapsing. After two gruelling hours of pure ascent we finally reached the top and there was a communal collapse of bodies.


Twenty minutes of groaning followed until we finally summoned the energy to conduct our little ceremony to Pacha Mama. Javier arranged the stones in a pyramidal formation and laid atop the bitten ends of our coca leaves. The idea is that you accept the coca leaves as a gift from mother earth but give a little back as a sign of appreciation before exiting the pass. I don´t know whether the Big Mama heard us but the afternoon seemed a lot easier than the morning. Having said this, it was still an incredibly long day and we didn´t arrive at the campsite until about six in the evening. By this time everyone was knackered and we opted for an even earlier night than the previous one.

Throughout the trek, despite being literally in the middle of nowhere, we were spoiled with incredible food ranging from traditional Peruvian chicken dishes to a full Chinese buffet on the final evening. All the food was served up by the incredibly smiley chefs, who were probably carrying twice the weight we were and always seemed to start cooking as soon as we arrived at the campsites.
The only problem with having such vast amounts of varied food at altitude is that your digestive system slows right down, and so one by one the trekkers fell victim to ´trekker's stomach´. Personally I think I got the roughest deal, as my tent-mate, an Australian guy called ´Tappy´ revealed to me that he suffered from Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Don´t worry, I´ll spare you the details but let´s just say it´s amazing how quickly you get to know people when trekking. It´s also amazing how quickly you can talk openly about bowel movements with somebody you´ve just met.
Anyway, at this point, I´ll stop talking about digestion.

By now, our emphatic entrance to Machu Picchu was only three days away and there was definitely a buzz to the group. Javier had told us that our final day´s trekking would commence at four am so we could enter the ´Ancient Mountain´ in time to see the sun rise.


Day three involved another early start but it seemed to be getting easier. I think we were all adjusting to this new way of life - simply walking all day and completely flaking out in the evenings. In fairness, our life was made a lot easier by the workaholic chefs who also erected our tents for us each night.
Days three and four could well have been combined into a super-hard-core single trek but fortunately this wasn´t the case and instead, we had two moderately `easy´ days. On day four we cheated slightly by starting the day with a forty five minute minibus journey. I thought I may be able to grab a cheeky cat-nap but any hopes of this were soon shattered as it was forty five minutes of careening around mud tracks and river-crossings and all the time a medley of 80s B-sides blasted out from the bus's speakers. I had one of those moments of clarity, of which I´ve had quite a few over the past few weeks - ´How the hell did I end up here?? On this crazy mini bus in a crazy forest in the middle of the Peruvian Andes! This is really happening, this is madness!´

Day four was definitely the best day so far. As you skirt around the base of Macchu Picchu, you can just about make out the edge of the citadel up in the sky. The landscape is truly incredible and you begin to understand why the Incas chose this obscure backwater in the heart of the Andes.
As darkness fell we arrived in Machu Picchu pueblo, previously known as Aguas Calients because of it´s proximity to natural hot springs. We were going to hit the springs but after four long, tiring days everyone was well and truly ´agotado!´ so we opted for a beer in the plaza instead. We sat, watched some local kids blow up some insects with bangers and discussed how we were going to cover the whole of Macchu Picchu in one day.
Tonight was the night we bid farewell to our tireless chefs. With all the treks these guys do, you may have thought they´d be a bit bored of the rigmarole but they put on an amazing last supper followed by a little speech to say how much they´d enjoyed walking with us. It was obviously all a bit emotional for everyone and we all went to bed early.
Tomorrow was the big one, we were to watch the sun rise over South America's most famous archaeological site and I needed sleep!

I won´t pretend waking up at 4 a.m... Again! was easy but we all knew we had to get there in time for sunrise. There was an option of taking a bus to the ruins, but no, Javier thought he´d subject to yet another gruelling seven hundred metre ascent. It was seven hundred metres of steps and as put by Kerry our Australian trek mate, it was ´an absolute killer!´. It was alright for Row, as a tour guide from another group offered to carry her bag for her. Did he expect something in return? Hmmm... me thinks probably.

We reached the top around five thirty and were greeted by the sight of coach loads of tourists streaming into the citadel. We wasted no time and with our sweat-drenched T-shirts and heavy breathing entered the final city of the Incas.
We were really lucky because the sky was perfectly clear so we were going to witness the perfect sunrise.


As you stand inside Machu Picchu and watch the sunrise over the Temple of the Sun it just doesn´t seem real, it´s like being inside a photograph. This view is only surpassed when you climb the peak of Huayna Picchu on the northern side of the site and look down at the city nestled into the panorama of the Andes. It´s an incredible place and it´s only really afterwards, once you´ve left Machu Picchu and look back at the photos that it really sinks in.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1178928300/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1178928300/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/jar_mes/south_america07/1178928300/tpod.html Fri, 11 May 2007 21:13:09 -0400 Following in the footsteps of Ernesto, James explores the land of the Inca.

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Cusco, Peru

The Longest Day - from a hostel in Madrid to a cake shop in Lima

Well, how to start?
It´s just so nice to sit down and relax for a while with a cup of coca tea - a drink brewed from the coca leaf, designed to fight altitude sickness (it tastes alright but it´s not really working so far...) It´s nice to take it easy because the first few days have been a bit crazy.
I ´did´ Madrid in a day. It was basically a whirl-wind tour of the art galleries with a cafe and a kebab or two in between.



I then had to get up really, really early on Monday morning for my flight to Peru. I´d never left Europe before, so the thought of a 12 hour flight across the globe scared the hell out of me. To combat this fear, I was going to use these 12 hours to enter the world of Sudoku, a world I´d so far resisted. I´d also filled my bag with chocolate and books but all this entertainment was completely unnecessary as I soon got talking to the woman next to me - a 41 year old Peruvian lady called Ines who worked for an international hotel in Germany. She barely spoke English and I barely speak Spanish but she spoke fluent German and I understand a tiny bit of german so we had a stuttering conversation over 12 hours, interspersed with films and a little bit of sleep. Anyway, at some point in the conversation I told her about the 12 hour wait I was going to have in Lima before my connecting flight to Cusco. Without a moment´s hesitation she asked me if I wanted to come for dinner with her family in Lima and rest for the night. My head swam with thoughts of ´who the hell is this woman?´, ´is this family they going to cut me up into little pieces?´, ´this would never happen in England´. I accepted.
The craziest part of this was when we met her family at the airport. Her 2 sisters, brother, dad and grandfather had all turned up. She hadn´t seen them for about 6 months, so you´d expect them to be perhaps a little annoyed that I´d weasled in on this re-union. I was all set to call the whole thing off and just run away as fast as I could. But they met me with smiles. Ines gave a quick explanation and they welcomed me straight away, saying that I was more than welcome to come and stay the night as well.



So we all got in a taxi and headed across the dusty streets of Lima. I was bombarded with questions and my pigeon Spanish was stretched to it´s limit. ´´voy trabajar en una escuela en Huancayo, soy proffesor de Ingles´´....´´no entiendo´´
We then pulled up in some back street. this couldn´t possibly be a house. We were outside a small shop surrounded by houses. Every one was going into the shop so I followed. Ines told me that the shop was theirs and they lived next door. Things were about to get even better. Ines´ family ran a cake shop! They said I could help myself to any cake I wanted. Annoyingly, with all this craziness I´d lost my appetite and settled on an apple strudle.
I met more of Ines´ family, her brother amd various cousins / friends. I told them all the basics... where I was from, what I´m doing here, what England´s like, I can´t believe you own a cake shop!
Dinner was ham, cheese and bread and we finished it off with a small shot of bailey´s that Ines had bought from the duty free.
Ines and her sister then insisted that they would wake up at 4 am and come with me to the airport. They made a bed up for me in their living room and left me to watch a DVD of peruvian music.
Anyway, they kept their word and I made my flight. I´m still in one piece and I´ve arrived in Cusco. Hopefully, this insane level of friendliness is a sign of things to come.
This would never happen in England.
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