Teaching English, Moi?

Trip Start Jun 06, 2005
Trip End Jun 05, 2006

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Flag of Peru  ,
Wednesday, July 13, 2005

We had the option of visiting the villages primary school this morning. We vote to go but to be honest, I find the idea quite intimidating. Besides, if they're trying to learn English, hearing me talk will probably knock them back a couple years.

We're introduced to the class of about two dozen grinning, snotty faces and asked to help them learn to count to twenty in English. We spend ten minutes with a small group each before a volunteer is called for to stand at the front and lead the whole class from one to twenty. The rest of our group make it clear that it should be an English person so I reluctantly agree. Inevitably I get carried away and soon end up jumping up and down and cheering when the kids get it right. The class was really enjoying themselves but not as much as me. The way I hollered "TWENTY!" whilst doing a star jump was particularly popular and drew many requests once the class ended. It wasn't quite Dead Poets Society but it was the clear highlight of the tour so far.

We were told today's walking would be easy and it was save one thing they neglected to mention, the bridge of death (my title!). A rickety looking steel rope suspension bridge over a fifty foot plummet into raging waters that was one thin plank away from not being a bridge at all. It even scarred Jemma* no I bloody was'nt! [ed.].

After the bridge of death it was a short walk to an oasis where a dip in a hot spring fed swimming pool was our reward.

The original plan had been to spend the night in the oasis, but that meant spending the freezing night in well ventilated huts as well as getting up at 2am in the morning to climb out. Instead we chose to walk to Cabanaconde after dinner at the oasis. The walking proved to be quite difficult and again, I found myself carrying two backpacks. At least nature provided inspiration in the form of a spectacular sunset over the canyon.

We eventually arrived back in Cabanaconde tired, cold, sweaty and dusty but something had gone wrong with our rooms. We waited in Cabanaconde's freezing cold square playing light sabers with kids and watching games of table football. After half an hour we were assigned rooms but they weren't quite ready for habitation. They had no curtains and ours was the only room with hot water. We were more keen to tuck into our rum so we let the French girls shower first. The suggestive noises the second French lass made whilst showering indicated that the hot water had ran out and they'd be none for us.
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