The Volunteers- The Last From Peru

I couldn't complete my time away without doing justice to those were there with me. Those who smiled, laughed, cried, and worked by my side, and me by theirs. They made my time there just that little bit more incredible. 

 

Melanie- Middle. Someone who made me laugh more than most other people i have ever met, combined. She brought out the best in me, through her genuine interest in who i am, and who i am becoming. Thank you Melanie for challenging me, encouraging me, and letting me be me. You are amazing. 

Karen

My friend from NZ. She and i worked in both orphanages side by side until she left. She had a hard stay, but fought through her time there. Now works for Oxfam and saves the world one step at a time. She is great, and i have fond memories of her. 

Jessica (Yess) - Cutting my throat!!. From the states, and the oldest member of the team, but still the most loving. The most generous. The most kind. When someone ached or was sick, her concern was genuine. She really was there to serve selflessly, and did so. I gained so much insight about life from her. Greatly admired. 

Ameena- The gorgeous one in this photo. Ameena is real. She has a big smile, and an even bigger heart. 

We got on so well because she was so accepting and loving. I cant wait to visit this one in Canada because i know we will be friends for life. With some people, you just know. And with her, i know that i know that i know. We were roomies in La Merced, and i miss her like candy. 

Beth! A nurse from southern US. She was lovely. Reminded me a lot of my mum, and became very dear to me. Only had a short stay, but was long enough to remind me that good people do exist. 

Where do i start with Samantha. She became my closest friend in Peru. She helped me, taught me, loved me, stood by me, and was simply with me for most of what happened there. Without her, im not so sure i could have done as much as i did. My right hand man, though in a feminine way. A gorgeous personality, with smile to match. Spent a week traveling with her around north Peru, dont think there are too many other people who i would have rathered there with me. I miss her. 

Megan and Jana- Left (2). Came together, lived together and worked together,  and left together. Though i didnt get to learn about these two in large amounts, i did learn enough to know they are people i cherish greatly. Their fun attitudes, lifestyle and view on life meant we always had enjoyable dinner times together. 

Vikki Lou. My oldest friend in Peru. Well, she isnt the oldest person there, but i knew her for the longest. Luckily we were there for similar length stays, from around the same time, until the same time. We overlapped perfectly. Any less, and i wouldnt have gotten the chance to know her enough. Any more, and she would have gotten even more sick of me than i am sure she was when i left. She is generous not only financially, but with her time, which most people cant afford to give away. I hold memories of her close to my heart, because she is precious friend. Someone who i started seeing like the sister i never had. 

Kathy - Right. From southern US, had a lovely impact on me. A smile to lighten a room, and a personality to match. I always enjoyed my time her her, whether it be one on one, or amongst friends. She seems to have found the secret to happiness, and i know whenever i spent time with her, i was always feeling that little bit brighter. 

Claire. Dear Claire. From Canada, and set to marry sometime in the next year or two, to a very lucky man. Everyone that met her, loved her. Everyone that didnt, missed out. I was fortunate to share a long stay with her, and i always enjoyed getting home from work and seeing her sitting at the table diligently working on her Spanish homework. She was and is, an amazing woman. 

Brittany.

My Nany. Its hard leaving it till here to talk about this girl. She left with a part of my heart. She left with cherished memories unlike others. I miss the other volunteers like crazy, but i ache for this girl. This one, does not need a paragraph to describe, though she gets one anyway, for anyone that sees her knows how special she really is. 

Heather and Lowrie. The girls from the UK. Some people always make you laugh, or leave you feeling like you should, regardless what they say. 2 girls that have a brilliant attitude toward life, and are always keen for a pint or two. 

So thats them, or a pick of them anyways. If you know them, you are blessed, as i know i am. Thats the selection of people i grew closest too, and want to see again, someday. Until then...

Peru Tienen Mi Corazon.

I still sit, though now in Buenos Aires- Argentina. The last week of travel has been a blur, and now i join you again in this internet cafe sure that the owners are charging me an arm and a leg to get this blog away. 

Heading north with Samantha proved a real treat. We make a super team, and got along like two proverbial peas in a pod. Im not sure how we are still friends though, after every morning i made sure she woke up to me poking her eyes, or playing the theme song of the trip loudly on her speakers. We went far north straight away, a 19 hour bus trip overnight and arrived middayish into the sweltering heat. I dont actually think it was that hot, but after being in lima and HYO for the entirety of my stay i sure wasnt prepared for that weather. It was gorgeous. The city of Tumbes itself (pronounced Tum-beys) was nice enough, though seemed out of touch with most of the world, and how to treat foreigners. Since being in Peru i have been treated in all shapes and manners, though without destroying the image that Tumbes is trying to create of itself, lets just say we left the following morning on the first bus out of there. 

Next, Mancora. Apparently world famous amongst serious surfers as one of the best spots along the south american coast, sadly...not much happening whilst we were there. Dont get me wrong, still gorgeous and pristine. Still nice enough for a swim, and to consider kite surfing, though certainly did not live up to the pumping swells it boasts of. We hired a motorbike and rode to a neighboring town. Oh yeah, and no helmets. Coming from riding in NZ and Australia where it is compulsory, it was a weird feeling, and extremely enjoyable. Enjoyable until coming from the opposite direction following a large truck were a series of small rocks it was picking up from the loose gravel highway. Coming at just the right height to hit me right in the eye. I would give you the speed we were traveling at, but the speedo was broken on the bike, as was the fuel, heat, and taco gauge.

The following cities were just that, cities. Not peruvian in the sense i understood it, though gave out more of a first world feeling. Bright city lights, massive advertisement boards, real shops as opposed to little markets and the like. Enjoyable cities, though reminded me too much of home whilst im still not quite home. We went sand boarding just outside of Trujillo (True-he-yo) which was just too much fun. I was honestly scared for my life, and it wasnt until Sam manned up and went down first that i followed her down. I sure look forward to that again. 

What else? Well, our final stop was in a region of the Andes called Huaraz (Wahrahz). Being in the highlands, i expected a similar cold to that of HYO, though was greeted by a fresh spring air, and a warmth on my back. We spent a day trekking around the neighboring towns, and though it was great, took the following day off to recover and make some of our own fun for the day. My flight out of Lima was saturday night, midnight. After being told the bus was only 7 hours long to get to Lima, we booked it for Saturday morning, 9am. The bus arrived to pick us up at 10:30, needless to say i was panicking a little by now. The driver though, made it his personal mission to get us there on time, and so raced down the mountain at a frightening pace. Im sure i heard the tail slide around a few corners. Made it back in time, got the bag repacked, fare-welled Sam, and now am in BA.

Decided to have some fun whilst being here, as im here for 25 hours. Tried to catch a bus into the city centre, but got sick of waiting, so just got the next one that came along. It took me to the middle of no where. So i tried to get another one. The driver asked where i was going, i said, "wherever you are". He asked again, so i replied, "I dont care, take me anywhere". He slammed on the breaks and told me to get off. I thought it was hilarious. So i caught another one, and that literally took me no where. Down to the end of a dirt road where there were all of 10 houses. Some kids were playing football so i joined in. Either my spanish is not as good as i thought it was, or they speak another language down here, cos i have no idea what is going on. 

Although the tripping has been fun over the last week, and i am on another journey right now, i cant wait to get back to Aussie to see everyone, and then NZ to see everyone there. Also cant wait to get all suited up for my brothers wedding in a bit, should be choice. 

Anywho, i am sleeping outside tonight. Check in is at 5am, so i didnt wanna book into a hostel and then not even make use of it...so, wish me luck. Im sure i will make some new friends. Pray this finds you well. 

Joven Felipe. 

Somewhere In Between

I sit. I wait. I wonder. I remember. I ache.

I left Huancayo last night. I had my final day at Aldea on friday, though could not stay away. I went back on Sunday just to see the kids one more time. The faces. The tears. The memories. The images of Sandy and Elizabeth holding one arm each refusing to let go. Repeating, "Please. Please don't go". The last photos with the house i have become attached to. The song they sung for me. The gatekeeper who after explaining to the children everything would be ok broke into tears. Although last night was special, it was hard. I could not stop thinking that i get to go home and see my family, but they don't. That i will soon be settling back into life as it is comfortable, though these kids know nothing other than the life they now live. And suddenly i felt horrible for leaving. Regardless of what i am leaving them with, is it enough? All i know is that reality has not hit. I hope it never does.

The football tournament on Saturday went off greatly. Was so much fun marching in the parade, with some of the kids watching and supporting us. We as a team came second in that area, and won a case of beer, which was almost consumed before our first game- which we won 5-2. The funny thing was that a friend of mine (an older white fella Paul) said to our team before kick off, ´2 beers for each goal´. After i scored my third i looked over to him and grinned a little. He winced back a lot... after all these are big beers. We won our following game, and the one after it before i realised we had made the final, and in fact had been competing in a knock out tournament throughout the day. We played a team incredible in the final, who i had been admiring all day. Even though we didnt quite get the desired result in that game, we were jumped on and congratulated by our supporters post game, who we stayed around drinking with for a couple of hours after. Was a nice way to remember my last full day in HYO.

Now i sit in Lima. I leave on thursday morning to hit up the coast. Wednesday night i am going to see Peru vs Argentina in a world cup qualifying game. Wetting my lips already. Cant hardly wait.

I touch down in Aussie soon. This inbetween stage is tough though. I have said goodbye to all my friends in HYO, and am still yet to say hello to those back home. What of now? I guess time will tell...

Only A Couple of Weeks Left...

Good morning, afternoon, or night- depending on when this finds you. I had written another blog to post a couple of days ago, but seeing as I could make a couple of pages simply from the last few days, I decided to rewrite what I had planned.

For arguements sake, lets start at the beginning so I don’t get confused. Since my last post, I have been to two concerts. The first was the expo rock one I spoke of last time. Although fun, we stood in line for an hour and a half…and the line was moving the whole time! That’s how long it was. Round a few corners, down some streets and past a few neighboring suburbs. That concert was good, though Peru is not well known for its Rock band production, meaning that every person in the crowd simply stood still throughout the concert’s entirety.

The other concert was much better. It was for a group called “Grupo 5” from Peru (Cinco), and a Latin American superstar from Venezuela called Oscar D’Leon. Like I said, this concert was much more enjoyable, and Grupo 5 were great, though when the concert is advertised to start at 7am on all the posters, and the main band not coming on until after 2:30am, it makes it hard to keep dancing right through for the 8 hours.

A couple of days ago we, (being the volunteers) organized an Olympics to mirror that which the children saw was going on at Beijing. The first event was meant to be a game that I have played with some kids back in NZ. The idea? Tie inflated balloons with string your ankle and try and run around and step on others balloons whilst protecting your own. Easy enough. The only problem was the 60 incredibly impatient children who wanted everything done for them, all at once. When one child was ready to go, they either decided they didn’t want the balloon around their ankle any more, or found some way to pop it, before we had the next child was even ready. Eventually, and I mean eventually, we had enough kids set and just let them go. We had planned to split them into teams with colours for their country, have them draw their own flags, and pretty much just get into the overall theme. But no. That was too difficult. We had planned other events as well, though totally had to just go with the flow, and leave things that weren’t working, and try new things to fill in the time. We finished by giving them all lollypops, which they liked.

A story that to this second I am still debating mentioning is of two nights ago. The only reason I will write of it is because though I don’t want everyone knowing, I know there are some of you back home who are concerned with my safety, and the dangers of Peru. I was out walking with a girl to pass some time before dinner, when we decided to take a seat under some trees on the edge of town, a couple of minutes near where we live. At about 6:30pm, three men with rocks and sticks attacked us. Sparing the details, I took a couple of blows to the head trying to protect her, and my head split open quite badly. We got away, Brittany unscathed, though I had to spend a large portion of the night in the hospital. I have stitches, and strong medication for the pain. As I write, the images race through my mind and I feel a little nauseous, so I will not write anymore. I apologise if this makes you worry. I’m just thankful that Brittany is ok, and that my injuries are not worse.

I have decided to leave Huancayo on the 7th of September. The day before I will compete in a regional football tournament, with other workers at Aldea, as well as marching in the parade before hand. Needless to say, I will probably be the only white boy- will definitely be getting some photos for my Facebook page. After then I will travel back to Lima, and head north, as I mentioned in my last blog, for a week or so. I'm looking forward to that, though everyday I am here somebody reminds me how hard it will be for me to leave eventually, because I have been here for the longest. I chose not to see that far ahead.

Dr Phil is still alive and kicking. Still in the realms of malpractice, and last visit I made to a group of people I was asked to check a cyst to see if it was cancerous. Wow. I said I was still in training and couldn’t be sure- which is not so much of a lie.

The volleyball court is coming along nicely too. The court is flat, and we put the poles in the holes I had dug yesterday, all concreted up. Should be finished in a couple of days in time for the volleyball tournament next Sunday, the same time as our football tournament.

Well, well. That’s about all I have to say about that. God bless, and take care.

Dr Phil and Andres

So with a title like that, I should probably start with its explanation. Although my Spanish is coming along nicely, I still tell anyone that asks, that I study Physiotherapy, simply because its easier than translating “Bachelor of Sport and Exercise Science”. Call it lying if you want, I’m just excusing it as laziness more than anything else. So, there is a painter at the orphanage who I get along with very well. He is obsessed with learning English because “The English language is the most important in the world”… as he tells me all too often in his fractured manner. He is 61, just a whole lot of fun, and we are lucky enough to share one of the relationships where you become instantly and honestly joyed by seeing the other person each day. The only problem, is that I don’t think he understands the difference between physiotherapy, and medicine.

Each day I give Andres the painter a massage when he asks. I have no training, no degree, and really no know-how apart from what I have picked up from the massages I have received over the years. A couple of days ago he asked me back to his house to give a massage the following morning. Naively, I accepted. When I arrived at 8am, down a couple of back streets to the address he had given me, I was greeted by Andres, who had prepared a piece of paper with various words in English, such as patient, surgery, intestines, pain, and doctor. He showed me to the ‘patient’ who had received the ‘surgery’ on his ‘intestines’ and was in a lot of ‘pain’. I’ll let you guess who was the ‘doctor’ that morning. After a quick survey of the man, I noticed he protected one side of his abdomen, so being me, I asked to see what it was. I wish I didn’t. I cant remember what he called it but for whatever reason his intestines were hanging out of his skin, in a small plastic bag. Because of this, he had very little, if any, control over his bowel movements. When I asked Andres what he wanted me to do, he said “Help him, he has pain”. I explained that I am not a doctor, again, and that I could not even remotely do anything near where the surgery had been performed. So, I massaged this guys legs, and gave him some basic leg stretches, and exercises to perform, because his leg muscles were wasting away.

After being completely overwhelmed from this ordeal, I explained I had finished. This to Andres was the signal to show me to his other neighbor who had some kind of pain. So, I massaged again. After which, I was shown to another friend of his who needed help. So I helped. Five people in total, each seen for almost half an hour. Each person offering some kind of payment, in either a breakfast, or actual money. When I explained each time I didn’t want (or deserve) anything in return, they wouldn’t take no as an answer. 10 o’clock had past, and so had 3 breakfasts, and there were no more ‘patients’ left in the waiting room, so I left for the orphanage for my 8-hour day. Oh, but before I left Andres had explained to 2 women on the street on our way out that I could massage them should they so desire it…which of course they did. Now, I have almost a full schedule next week of Peruvians thinking I am some kind of miracle worker and that massages solve any kind of bodily problem. Sure, its wrong, and in Australia or New Zealand I would have been sued for fraud or malpractice or something else by now, but these are just a people who have had no formal education, and think that I can help, so I am trying.

So that’s my explanation, and thats enough about that. Last night I was allowed to organize a camping trip for whichever volunteers were interested. 5 took me up on the offer, so we borrowed a tent, and hiked up one of the surrounding mountains. We decided to camp out on quite possibly the windiest night in Huancayo’s history by the way. We hiked to the top of the mountain, decided it would be impossible to either light a fire or pitch the tent, so we descended a couple of hundred metres to a more wind sheltered area. We made a small fire, not because of any fire bans, but because we could only find small twigs, and green branches, so we burnt it all, or at least tried, to heat up our dinner, and roast some marshmallows. Was a great way to spend time with the some good friends in a cheap way. So good in fact, that I might even do it again before I leave.

Life at Aldea is great too. I had worked on the volleyball court for three days before some people made complaints out of concern for me. Apparently I shouldn’t be working alone, the ground should be wet for me to make it easier to move, and we should use the tractor first to plough the ground. The following morning I arrived at work, to a ploughed ground, completely flooded, with the promise that all 14 workers will be accompanying me until it is completed. So what started, as a small project to complete at my own pace, has now become top priority, which I find quite funny. All in all, life is super right now. I’m off tonight to a concert of all Peru’s top Rock bands. None of which anyone would have heard of back home, but it will be fun nonetheless.

That’s it from this end. Hope you enjoyed the report, I sure enjoyed writing about the last couple of days.

Phil out.

A light hearted post

To the diligent and interested alike, I apologise for leaving it a little longer since my last entry. Nothing has happened, and I am still fighting fit, I have just been a little busy. Who would have guessed, I can actually busy myself in a country that has the work speed of a snail…but believe me, it has been hard to find enough things to do.

I have signed up for more Spanish lessons. My original classes ran out a few weeks back, and since then I had been trying to catch up on everything I had been ‘taught’ and teach myself new things as well. Its actually a lot harder than I expected, so for those people who have ever completed an extramural paper at university, I commend you. So, like I said, I signed up for more Spanish classes, for a few more weeks. I only booked in until the 21st of September, because I have decided to shorten my stay here in Huancayo. Soon after then I will travel north, up the coast and have a bit of a holiday. There is some good surf spots (which I don’t know what I am going to do with!!), places to hire dirt bikes for a day and ride anywhere desired, and many many museums, some of which I might visit. The brag of the south in Machu Picchu doesn’t interest me for whatever reason. There are some mean things to do on the way down, though I figure it criminal if I start traveling towards the lost city itself, and don’t see it, so its just safer to go in completely the other direction.

Last weekened all the volunteers went to Paka Lake. Its pretty much just like any other lake anyone has seen before, so I’m not too sure why we spent an hour and a half in the bus to get there. Still, a friend and I made a day of it, and we created a list of things that we don’t see all to often here. Words in English, a bald Peruvian, a live Llama, a man carrying a baby, someone wearing flip flops, those kind of things. Each ‘object’ had a certain amount of points attached to it, and there was a bonus section that involved a single dare to the other person for triple points. I dared her to jump in the lake, which she didn’t. She dared me to eat the head of the fish she ordered for lunch, which I did. Eyes, bones and teeth- kind of gross, but hey, when in Rome…or ahh, Peru. I ended up winning pretty comfortably after that, and the prize was a DVD, which cut off five minutes from the end, so I still don’t know what happened to Batman. Possibly one of the most frustrating things in the world, especially as we started watching it at 1am one morning.

That Saturday night we (being the volunteers) went out for a dance. Phil, still being the only white guy in all of Huancayo was on temporary boyfriend should the girls need an escape from someone. I don’t know if I did what I was meant to, was too busy dancing with Peruvians, and breaking the circles that kept forming. It was honestly one of the greatest Saturday nights I have ever had, all without a drop of beer (for those who are still convinced that only alcohol creates fun). We left in good time, and I chatted with my taxi driver in spanish the whole way home which was great.

Although this may only tickle my humour (I don’t even know what that means!) I am the ‘sucio’ one at the Aldea, the orphanage. Because I don’t wear my best clothes there, and pretty much never wash, the mothers have made an effort to show me how to wash my clothes. Washing by hand is hard, and my clothes never come out washed, though I don’t rarely care. I guess because the kids don’t have a lot, what they do have is well cared for. Therefore when I rub my grubby hands on my shirt to clean them, everyone gasps. When I turn up in my jeans that have holes across both knees, the mothers squirm. I guess its probably a bad thing, though right now there is humour in it…and having washing lessons with the kids is just another way to bond with them. Speaking of bonding, I have been doing that a lot recently. I used to spend from 9-1pm each day at Aldea. That grew to 10-4. Which grew to 10-6, five days a week. Now, im there in most moments I don’t have a Spanish class. Spent the whole weekend with the kids, and on Saturday, took a bunch of them out on an excursion. One of the most priceless things I have ever seen was seeing their faces glued to the windows as we simply drove through town. That’s when it hit me that I can leave whenever I want, though these kids cant. When I leave each day, they stay behind. When I arrive each day, they are already there. It has been school holidays the last 2 weeks, and so I have made an effort to spend as much time with them as possible, because they get home from school at 2pm each day, and I wont get to see them as much from now on.

Today I start the volleyball court that I will be building. I met an old couple from Wanganui, just near Palmy who asked me to do it, and have given me 500 Soles for its completion. I have spent some time over the last few days surveying the area, and planning it out in my mind. Although with a digger, it might take an hour to complete and level the ground, I estimate completion within a week. Hopefully I can work on it in the morning, and then spend time with the kids when they arrive home from school.

With joy in my heart, I can honestly talk of the difference I am making. Its been hard work, and though I may have always been making some kind of change, now it is tangible. Now it is noticeable. Now, I have received my payment in full.

Can you call Dog a food?

This last week has seen many things unfold. Today involved my first real step into the helper role that I will play for my coordinator over the coming weeks. It involved waking before 6am, and picking up three new volunteers from the bus station, showing them to their house, and placements for their stay. The only problem? Each of them wanted to start at different times due to jet lag, so I spent most of today running back and forth around the city and trying to get some stuff done at my placement too. Two words, job done.

I have only worked a few days this week due to sharing in the Independence Day celebrations…which last for three days. The national day itself was on Monday, though most things close down for as long as possible it seems. For the week of Independence Day each year, each house must fly the flag within visibility of the road. Failing to do so subjects you to a fine, I guess in an attempt to enforce patriotism…if you can call it that. For the 28th we made our way to a town nearby that had a parade on, in which the men dress up with a black mask on, with a hat, almost to look like the persona from “V for Vendetta” if that helps with imagery at all. The best part was that after the marching was over, the men line the streets and face off in a one on one battle that involves whipping as much as possible and holding a cloth as protection for 10 seconds. If you remain standing, you avoid the shame out of having to wait another year to step into man-hood.

The following day we went to another town called Mira Flores and had a picnic. We found a football field and started a fun game with the girls, and some local boys. Within 10 minutes, myself and our tour guide were challenged to play for money from some locals. Girls? Not allowed to play, and boys, told to go home. We declined the specifics of their offer, though played with them for fun. Would love to say the girls and I dominated, though that would be a lie. It was a good tussle, though they didn’t get the concept of playing for fun, and taking it easy on the girls who have never played before, and the boys who would be less than half their ages.

This follows my three days of sickness. I decided that ‘not drinking the tap water’ was just a myth started by the bottled water companies as a scare tactic to sell their product. Lets just say its not. I got chronically sick, and had to miss a couple of days from the orphanage, and life in general really. What was hilarious though was that I decided to have a half day on my forth day because I was sick of staring at my ceiling for hours on end, though that half day saw the orphanage run out of water, and call in a tanker to fill buckets. Such joy is being the only young male there, surrounded by 73 children that want nothing more than my help lugging buckets to their houses. Remember, still sick. After 2 hours I couldn’t take anymore, and thankfully the tanker was empty, so I left. The following half day I asked one of the mothers if I could help her with anything. She promptly sat me down, and placed an enormous meal on the table in front of me. That’s how I help?? Haha, remember, still sick. Last thing I wanted to see was a plate full of dog. I know, those things that we have back home as pets…yup, just ate one without knowing until after. Lets just say dogs were only ever meant to be pets. When I sought out another mother to again offer assistance after slaving through the meal, you guessed it, more ‘food’. Eventually, and I mean eventually, I beat the beast. I stood, swayed a little, and made my way out of the house only to be hailed from behind. I had forgotten to drink a concoction of things to make me feel better, which tasted as bad as I was feeling. She stood 2 yards from me and made sure I finished every drop. Thankfully, I’m back to full fitness, and feel again on top of the world.

Come Saturday I had scheduled to do some swim teaching. For anyone that has taught swimming before, you know how hard it can be to get people up to confidence. Now lets make some alterations to normal scenarios. Add language barriers, and a people who have never stood in water deeper than the buckets they wash in. Subtract warm water, and teaching utensils. Lets just say I discovered success in simply getting them to take their feet off the ground away from the wall.

I get the feeling I am missing a hundred stories with each entry, though I am intentionally leaving a few out for telling in person, and some hopefully never see the light of day. Even if I don’t get around to writing individually, just know now how much I appreciate hearing anything from home. I don’t even care how unimportant you may think it is… it means the world to know how things are with those I care most about. Thanks for the read! Ttfn, ta ta for now.

Injustice

Who decides where the injustice lies? How can I walk past someone who needs everything, and give nothing? Why do I look more fondly on those who work for their money, than those who simply ask for it? Is grace not lost in the moment that I expect some return on my investment? Surely I know better. Still, I cannot save everyone. Better yet, I cannot truly save anyone, nor can my money.

Why was I born into a life of affluence if not to help those that know nothing more than the street curb they belong to? What makes me so different from them anyway? Don’t we want the same things in life? A warm place to sleep, clean water, and fresh food…what if even those things are even beyond their imagination? What if all they need now is someone to take a moment out of their day and offer companionship? What if amidst the thousands of people that pass each day, there is one that can spare a moment. Spare a jacket. Spare a dollar. Spare more than the concern of tripping themselves up on whoever lies beneath them.

Still, what if my perception of need is warped. What if the need I see is not the need that actually exists. Why must I always weigh up what I know, with what I see? Is my perception not riddled with prejudice if I aim to fulfill a need that does not even exist? If I see what isn’t even there, how can I be sure that I can see what is?

What matters in the end anyway? Should I obey the law and let my fellow man wither, whilst others profit from his exploitation? Will anyone agree with my decision to support an illegal trade if it means feeding someone’s family for one more night? Again, who decides where the injustice lies? I hope it not me, for all I know is of the need. I know not how to fill it, or even of where my first step must be to try. Simply of its existence.

I think I have always known of what is happening. I think I have always known of what is not happening that should be happening. I think everyone has. I think it much easier to change the channel, turn the page, or click another link, than to actually acknowledge what is going on. I may not know everything, but I know that of the two great P’s, Profit and People, our concern should primarily be on the latter before we even consider anything else.

I find it remarkable that when I write of injustice I can only surface questions. Of most other things I am sure. Of most I know a little. Of this; not an answer. Not an attempt nor effort. I know not how I can be so drawn to something that doesn’t even involve me yet. I don’t know anyone that has died of hunger. I have not met anyone in urgent need. What if my thinking is backwards though, what if I have always been involved? What if this urge is not as large as a life calling, but as small as a required change in attitude. What if all this surmounts to simply being more generous…to the rich and poor alike. What if my purpose in life is simply showing everyone how to give more. Imagine that. A life surrounded by generosity that swings both ways. That’s what I want. I don’t want to escape the life I know, but embrace it, and change it. I don’t want to be remembered in the future, but in eternity.

That guy who not only gives money, but also stops to spend some time with the person who doesn’t have anywhere to stay tonight…

…Yeah, I want to be that guy. 

Well Hello!!

I hope my last post didn’t scare too many of you. Before I left to come here, people who knew Peru only told me two things of it…its poverty, and its danger. So with that in mind, I was fully expectant of the recent happenings (tough as they might be), and count everyday I get into bed safely a blessing.

So what has been happening!?!? Well, seeing as I am here for the Orphanage, I thought I should probably start on that topic right? Fair enough. So this new orphanage I have been at…I’m still not sure what to make of it. Peru as it is, is a country that almost seems content within itself. Although there is a minimum wage of 3 Soles p/hour (about NZ$1.50), and an astounding 70% unemployment rate who don’t even see that amount money, it has been surprisingly hard to find a specific need to fill. The new orphanage that promised the construction of new rooms, and storage areas has left much to be desired. I spent my first 4 days shelling beans in an open field for the entirety of each shift. When I commented to my supervisor that I felt I could contribute different ways, the ‘different’ that followed involved separating peas from the hay that they lay in. I couldn’t help but laugh. Construction? Kids? Painting rooms? Nope, more vegetables!! Everyone has heard of finding a needle in a haystack…well, although I didn’t come across any of them, I sure saw my fair share of peas in my numerous haystacks. After a few more days in the field I went again to my supervisor and made a further attempt to share my desire to fulfill any number of needs. Now, although I’m still unsure what my calling is in life, I can say for sure that it has nothing to do with the painting of window frames. The amount of streaks, painted glass, and missed edges I have left has made it fairly obvious that I should pursue other avenues. The guys I am working with are choice though. They speak no English, so my with my limited Spanish our conversations are limited to about four things…futbol, music, painting, and futbol. We have heaps of fun, and are laughing all the time, though half the time I don’t even know what we are laughing at…I just join in.

Last weekend a group of girls and I (I say girls only to highlight that I am the only male volunteer with 12 females…anywho…) went to the jungle. We arrived in La Merced late on Friday night, and promptly found a guide to take us on a tour the following day. Our guides, two 16 year old boys armed with one rope between them, met us Saturday morning and we were off. Our tour consisted of a bunch of information I didn’t understand and hiking along a stream that contained significant waterfalls that we scaled throughout. We got absolutely soaked, rock filled shoes, and many good photos (see my Facebook page). The national day is 28th July, so the following day incorporated many warm up marches in the square. After dancing for hours the night before at a club we found, all we wanted to do was sit an enjoy the culture. Eventually we made our way to a zoo that has been set up taking in all sorts of injured animals. Some I have never seen before…and some I never want to see again!!

The toughest part right now is the goodbyes. For whatever reason, there was an influx of volunteers around the same time I arrived, though most people only signed up for 3-4 weeks, and now their time is up. I made particularly good friends with the other new people when I arrived, and so seeing them go is like losing some of the memories my time here. Still, I’m sure I will make many other good friends throughout my stay in Peru, and I have been known to rave on about how great my friends and family are back home.
So that’s it for another entrance! Phew, that came out a bit longer than I had expected. Thanks for the read, I’m off to the sauna. We only get cold showers in our house, so I figured treating myself once in a while to some warmth is not too excessive. Cold showers, at 7am when its 5 degrees outside…priceless. It’s a brilliant water saving mechanism though, no one showers for more than a minute anymore.

So with that in mind... Phil out!

Crazy times!!

What probably hasn’t even caused a ripple back home has brought this nation to a complete standstill. The main road between Lima and Huancayo has been blocked for the last two weeks by angry farmers that are protesting to the Governments selling of Peruvian land to Chile. This means that the usual bus trip (taking 6-7 hours) has been extended to over 17 hours in some cases as only trickles of traffic are allowed through. As well as this, today has unofficially been declared a public holiday by all workers in a strike against the Government that is doing nothing about minimum wages, and increasing cost of living. This means no cars on the roads, though if caught driving, be expectant to see rocks hurled in your direction. No shops are open (officially), but some are still doing business under the table. Because no buses or taxis are around, it is nearly impossible to make it to the orphanage today, in what is normally a 20-minute trip across town by car, so they told me not to bother going in today.

The glacier was amazing. We left at 6am on Saturday morning, and got taken to the drop off point by around 7:30, ordered some lunch, and then set off on the hike. Imagine how difficult exercise is at 3200m in Huancayo. Now add another 2000m on top of that. Yup, almost died. We had to break the trek into about 94 sections, as our group stopped in what seemed like every hundred metres or so. But the view? Priceless. Photos don’t do justice. About half way up the glacier we were given a plastic bag, and allowed to slide down a couple of hundred metres. Me and my naivety didn’t expect the ‘snow’ to hurt if you fell off. It probably wouldn’t of if it were snow. Let me tell you…ICE HURTS!. I decided to push the limits are started at a near vertical point to maximize speed, and certainly paid the price for it when I came off the bag and got my own personal henna tattoo in the form of ice rash down my forearm.

On Sunday we went to a football game, finally! Lima vs Huancayo in what I understand as the national league…sort of. The standard of the game, not fantastic, but enjoyable nonetheless. The attitude of the players, nothing short of the stereotypical pre-Madonnas that South America is known for. The atmosphere, ish. Because there was only 10,000 in the crowd, it wasn’t amazing. Sadly, the game got out of hand, and quite dangerous. Team Lima took a 20 minute half time so when they walked out of the tunnel, they were met with an angry crowd that decided to show their disgust with the throwing of fruit, and rocks. This continued throughout the 2nd half with fans bombarding the away bench with anything they could lay their hands on. The worst part? Our seats were right in front of their dugout, so we were directly in the firing line. When a rock missed one of the girls heads by a matter of inches we decided to leave. It was 0-0 at that stage, though I don’t know how it finished.

The new orphanage is a joy. The kids are lovely, and I played with them for hours on my first couple of days. Volleyball with the girls, and who would of thought, football with the boys. This was in between shelling beans for 3 hours each day for what becomes lunch the following day. Construction was meant to start today, but with the strike, I will start tomorrow hopefully. Turns out I will be rebuilding the food storage areas. The food stored? Guinea Pig.

Safety is now a serious concern within the house. One volunteer was beaten last week, and has been sent back to Lima because the hospital here cannot treat his fractured skull. Our homestay Dad had an attempted mugging a couple of days ago, and though he is a trained Karate instructor and fought them off, he broke his hand in the process. On top of this, a group of us were at the out the other night, and 4 girls decided to walk home…and although nothing serious happened, there were chased by a drunkard. Needless to say, times here are getting a little dodgy, and appropriate steps have been implemented to ensure our safety…curfews, no solo journeys, etc.

I forgot to mention last time about the dogs. They are everywhere. Literally every street you turn down you are guaranteed to see a couple of stray ‘perros’ walking around. I think nothing of it now, but I remember when I first got here I was amazed. Rarely do people have pets here, because its hard enough to make enough money to get by as it is.

Interesting times ahead I am sure. A group of us are trekking into the Amazon this weekend for 3 days. I mainly want to be able to claim that I have been into the jungle, because I don’t know if I will make it down to Machu Piccu on this trip, and all other tourism is days on a bus away.

Thanks for the read. Hope you are enjoying the posts as much as I am enjoying writing them. I should probably get outside and work on my tan now, or roll in some dirt. People still stare and call me gringo, so I gotta do something about that…kind of like growing a beard so you don’t get ID’d getting into a pub I guess.

Random way to finish, anyways…

Sermana dos

I hope this update finds you well. So much has happened in the last week, each day bringing with it a new challenges, opportunities, and experiences.

Peru time, rather South American time I am told, is a novelty in itself. Coming from a first world nation where I am held accountable to being punctual, I am finding this area requiring some of the largest adjustments. If I am late for a lecture at university, no one waits for me, and I miss out. Late for work, and I am disciplined. My Spanish classes here are scheduled between 3-5 each day, and even though they always run for the full 2 hours, they usually start closer to 3:30, than the scheduled time. Usually there is no reason, though one time my teacher didn’t want to get out of bed from siesta, and another time she was enjoying her book at home, and didn’t want to put it down. Its hard not to impose my thinking or attitudes here, because this is not my country. This is part of their culture, which I have to embrace.

A couple of days ago we went to a place called Chupuka, which sounds like the creature from Star Wars, though spelt differently. We climbed to some ruins, and got up to 3500 metres at the top. We then got lunch at a little restaurant laid out on acres of open ground. I was feeling brave, so ordered the cobaya and pecho, what I thought was guinea pig and the local drink. After much laughter from the group, and some embarrassment from the waitress, it turns out I had in fact asked for guinea pig…and breast for the drink. It was then that I laughed, and changed the order to Inca Cola- a Peruvian drink owned by Coca Cola, tasting somewhat like creaming soda. Probably safer to drink, and pronounce. We catch taxis everywhere, because not many people own their own cars here, and taxis are incredibly cheap. Imagine a 1990 station wagon of some sort if you will. Now place 11 people in it. Now picture it driving over the barely existent roads between this town and Huancayo where I am living. The driver effectively had someone on his lap, I was so far out the passenger window I had to dodge oncoming trees. Obviously seat belts, and road safety for that matter are not held with the highest regard here.

I was lucky enough to be able to watch the Euro final on Sunday afternoon, which was a real treat. After the final whistle, I was feeling rather enthusiastic, so I borrowed a ball from a friend, and went out to the local field for a kick around. By field, I mean a concrete slab about 30mx15m in length with 2 large rocks at each end for goals. There is usually people playing on it, but when I got there, everyone was having a break, so I just started to play with the ball. After a couple of minutes a 10 year old boy came up and said “Gringo, quieres jugar?”. Roughly translated, “White boy, wanna play?”. That was all it took, and that’s how I spent my afternoon, playing with dozens of local kids. Was so much fun, and though I was double the age of any of them and we barely spoke during the game, I still had a ball…sorry, terrible pun.

It was only a few hours before that I had gone to the Sunday markets. Streets lined with little stalls trying to sell you everything under the sun. Prices- negotiable. Obviously being white, nothing gets offered cheap first up, but with a little know how, and acting like you know what you are doing, some things are offered at decent prices eventually. I pretty much used the morning to practice my Spanish. I got HEAPS of blank stares. Haha.

As for the orphanage work, Karen and I have decided to ask for a different placement due to a simple lack of need there. Although we have both built good relations with the children and staff, there are 25 children in total, only 9-10 who we regularly see as the older kids are at school. There are 5 full time workers, and then 2 volunteers and it has quickly become obvious that we are only expected to watch the kids in between meals, and although we have tried to implement some activities and games throughout our time there, the language barrier at the moment makes things too difficult for both the children and us. We decided together that the orphanage is already well catered for, and now with the blessing from the workers there, have been directed to a larger orphanage on the far side of town, where I will be doing construction for the next couple of weeks. Building new bedrooms for the kids, and helping Karen out feeding the babies during meals. We start tomorrow. I hope our choice makes sense. I know I don’t need to justify it, though I didn’t fly thousand of kilometers to sit around for three months, and although the existence of altruism may still be debatable, I came to make a difference, and plan to fly out with the intention of leaving Peru in a better condition than I found it.

Anywho, that’s it for today. Im off to climb a glacier on Saturday which will be primo. Will be sure to let you know how it all turns out with the new orphanage, and anything else as it unfolds.

Till then…

Don´t Even Know Where To Start...or Continue.

Hola!
I had my first day at the orphanage today which was an experience, as well everything else here. Well, before i give you the wrong impression, let me explain some things so you dont hold a prejudice against the people in Huancayo.

They drive on the wrong side of the road here. Well, obviously by ''wrong side'' i mean for me. Being here had made me realise how much i liked things being in a particular way. How i had believed certain things were universal absolutes, but in fact arent. Like choosing a lane and sticking to it...there are no lanes here, just a mass of honking and yelling as taxis and buses almost collide in every direction i look. Like having toilet paper in the bathroom... which is simply not the case here. You carry your toilet paper with you in the off chance you need to use one, either at someones house, or in public (which you get charged for). Like having refridgerators. Nothing is served cold here. Like drinking water that flows from taps. The water must be boiled, and regarding the last point, sits for hours until it reaches room temperature. Something the locals do not have to worry about as their bodies are able to digest the water. I havent had a cold beer, let alone drink since being here.

I hope i dont sound like i am whinging, because i am not. I am loving Peru, and all that it offers. I am loving the customs, the way of life, and most of all the kids that i met today.

During my orientation, which was really just a chat over ice cream in a local cafe i was told the kids at the orphanage were there because their parents had died of AIDS. Being naive or not, i thought nothing of it (terrible as it may be) as i am here for the children. When i arrived at the orphanage the kids immediately opened up. Almost to the stage that within an hour i had 4 girls under the age of 5 fighting for my attention. I tried all day to communicate with them, but its hard. They dont get the concept that i cannot speak my language, and continue speaking to me at a pace too fast for my understanding at this point. They are lovely children though. Not much to play with, so i hope they enjoy the things i have brought over for them to make use of. A lot of the time they just wanted to be picked up and held. I now sit in the internet cafe covered in dry snot all over my clothes. I love it. It wasnt until i got home from the orphange that i was told it wasnt just the parents that had AIDS, but all the children have HIV as well. Honestly, i was taken back at first, as anyone from a 1st world nation would be, but now...it just makes me want to love them even more.

(Second last paragraph, i promise!) It was at about 11am this morning that i started getting stomach cramps, and feeling light headed. I asked a fellow volunteer at the orphange to show me somewhere i could lie down, so they took me half way, asked me to wait where i was, and continued on to ask the workers there. Once she had gone i had to sit down. The finger tingles i have been experiencing since i got here took on a whole new level, and i couldnt even make up which way was up, and which way was down. Eventually i was taken to a bed, something strong scented was put under my nose which almost knocked me out, and i took on cold sweats and began shivering. Soon after, felt as right as rain, and went back out to the children. In case you didnt know, we are 3,300m above sea level.

So thats it! Thanks for the read. I do read all comments here, and facebook mails and comments, and emails, so please keep writing. Im sorry i cant apologise individually, but i hope you enjoyed reading whats going on in my world right now. Tell me about yours...

I dont quite know how i made it...

17 hour flight, one long day, and a whole bunch of excitement saw me touch down in Lima, Peru. The trajedy of both flights was immeditately overcast by the mass of taxi drivers wanting me to make use of their services. When i say mass, i litterally mean 15-20 men that came storming up, and surrounded me. Before i knew it i had walked straight past my pick up point without even knowing it. So i wandered around, not quite sure what to make of this foreign environment for around an hour. It was then i saw a small lady near the front exit holding a sign that read "Philliph Riburn"... I blamed the spelling for the confusion. Im now staying in her house, and we are about to "drink breakfast" (!!!) A selection of milk, OJ, water, and yoghurt to start the day.

As for the flights...
Auckland-Buenos Aires.
Started well enough, though the seating arrangement eventuated to be quite a test. Infront, a crying baby. To my left, a mother flying solo with two young children, maxxie closest to me, a 4 year old boy that was more fluent in both english and spanish than i ever hope to be, and he certainly loved to remind me of it. When He would sleep, across ways on the seat, legs against mine, he seemed to live through his dreams a little too much- kicking me on the odd occasion i started dosing. Behind me? A middle aged man who must have had diabetes, or some gastrointestinal problem, because ever five minutes he would be yanking on my chair to hoist himself out of his seat. To my right, and my only source of freedom, an aisle- which i made much use of during the 11 hour first leg.

The exciting thing is how quickly i am picking up the language. I was feeling full of confidence when i got off the plane in Argentina, and walked right up to a security officer. "¿Donde de baño?" i asked him. (Where is the bathroom?) His reply seemed to leave his mouth in a complete jumble, so i simple smiled, thanked him and walked off, having no idea where the bathroom in fact was.

The flight into Lima was ok. 5 hours with no TV, movies, music or the like. The lady beside me spoke no english, a small lady of traditional peruvian appearance, and she never seemed to get the point that i speak very little spanish. Still, im getting by.

Apologises for the length of this blog post. It being my first, actually having gone some where i thought you could excuse it. Just wanted to pass on a huge thank you to all the plane letter writers, farewell attenders, brownier bakers, cookie creaters, well wishers, and prayer givers. Your love has made the transition a whole lot easier.

Anywho, before i get carried away, i shall head. I leave Lima this afternoon to Huancayo, my intended destination, on a 6 hour bus trip into the heart of the Andes.

Hasta la pronto!

I admit...I'm weak.

This thing is almost addictive. Its kind of becoming my friend...Sad, i know. I check the page almost in a routine manner, like checking emails. I want to see if things have changed, or if the page has been updated since my last visit..though no one else can change it.

So here lies possibly the most wasted moments of my life. My second post about Peru, from New Zealand. I write though, because it listens. I can say whatever i am feeling, and then leave the computer feeling better. Is this because no one else is listening to me?? Nay, i reason it that when i log on here, my life becomes emersed in the journey. I am getting butterflies, nervous palpitations, loss of sleep, day dreams, and a new sense of excitement. The best thing?? I haven't even left yet.

New Beginnings, almost.

So, this being my first ever blog...i am in for as much discovery as anyone else reading these words. 

I basically wanted to think of the best way to reach as many people as i can, in the least frustrating way...avoiding the retelling of stories as much as possible. Hence why we find ourselves here. Both out to embark on a journey of enlightenment and experience as much as each other. Hopefully what follows is a series of stories, thoughts, and moments that have touched me enough to spend the time to share them with you. No doubt i will be rereading and reminding myself of the time that was Peru in the years to come. 

Rather than focus on the eventual nostalgia that accompanies any journey, i pray to keep you up to date with how i am impacting the people of Peru, and how they are impacting me. 

Join me, as I join them...