Volunteering in Chivay.

As most of you may know (for those of you that read/follow my blog), I have been going through a difficult and emotional time.  It has been a struggle of mixed emotions, an aching heart and a clouded mind and me swimming through the maze of confusion trying to find that one opening in the thick grey water that would lead me to sanity and some sort of focus.

Days of flooded eyes and emotional exhaustion seemed never ending, but I kept swimming, kicking my way to the surface, even when I felt like my lungs would fail me I didn’t stop.  I held onto that one opening with that small ray of sunlight; I kicked as hard as I could finally reaching the surface and taking in as much oxygen as my lungs would allow.

It rained… actually poured down on me.  Reality, dissolution, the what was, the what is, the what could be all came flooding down on me from the sky making it hard to see anything at all.  But just like after any hard rain it finally stopped, leaving a fresh smell of rebirth and a clear new vision as if all the toxins, dust and leftovers have been washed away with only the things that need to be left are left.

It wasn’t easy, the crashing, the swimming and then the downpour.  I was exhausted and I still am, not just emotionally but physically and mentally.  I have been working two jobs.  Over a month ago I moved out of the house as I couldn’t afford the rent so I moved back into the hostel where I have been bartending every night (it pays for rent, one meal a day and a discount) and then teaching during the days.  In 6 weeks between teaching, working at the bar and volunteering I have had two days off.  I don’t know I have done it without physically collapsing but I have, but the exhaustion has not helped when trying to find my wind.

However, volunteering has helped me.  It actually was the opening I found in the murky waters of my confusion. 

I had been looking forward to going since my first week teaching, but when the time actually came around to going I was hesitant.  Phil had just left and Ceyhan was leaving in a few days and I was emotionally unstable and had no energy to even talk to or even smile, but I knew people were depending on me to go and deep down I knew I needed some time away from the hostel hoping maybe it would clear my head.

The three hour bus ride there was what I needed.  For some reason, bus reds always clear my head.  Maybe it’s looking out the window at the landscape or not having an obligation to make conversation but by the time we got to Chivay I felt a little bit better.

Chivay is a small town just at the beginning of Colca Canyon.  It is situated in a valley of a dusty grey and brown patchwork-like landscape surrounded by sharp mountainous cliffs. There is really not much to it, it’s quite small.  There is a night market where you can get lomo Saltado – an amazingly yummy Peruvian dish – and emoliente, vegetables, fresh bread and other yummy stuff.  I bought emolliente, a mix of hot spices and tea, served in a plastic bag and a straw in it….soooo yummy and is perfect at keeping you warm at night as it gets so cold.  At night I slept in leggings, wool socks, long sleeve shirt, knitted cardigan, my toque and four blankets….yup Canada cold.

There is no heat at the school as there is only electricity certain hours of the day which doesn’t include the night time so layers are a must.  

The school is located five minutes outside of the city centre.  It’s its own community with a playground, volleyball area, green houses, mess hall, living quarters, class rooms, a fountain in the small plaza. It is all all safely kept by the gated entrance and back drop of jagged edge cliffs.

We first got to meet the children.  They were in awe and so excited to meet us. At the top of their lungs they started shouting “Hi!!! How are you?!?” then they broke into song that went something like Hello friend how are you? How are you?  I am fine thank you, I am fine thank you… it was great!!!! It was such a different atmosphere then teaching in Arequipa…it was exactly the type of environment I had pictured myself teaching in when I was getting certified…I was so excited for the next day.  But before teaching the kids we sat down with the Tia’s (aunt’s) that night and gave them an hour long English lesson as they speak no English.  We just taught them the basics, hello, how are you?  What is your name? My name is… where are you from? All to be followed with the phrase in Spanish so they would understand.  Hi how are you?  Hola como estas?  Good thank you and you?  Bien grazies e tu.  I’ll tell you…I learned basic Spanish quite fast that weekend as even with the kids the next day we would have to go from Spanish from English.

I would hold up a picture on my tablet – which they had never seen before, they were so amazed by it and were even more amazed when they discovered they could make a picture bigger and smaller with the touch of their fingers – lets say of a banana, I would then say “que es un platano en ingles?” Then we would tell them and they would repeat.  There were two of us teaching this class as it is the biggest class and they are a handful…15 of them all between the ages of nine and twelve…why we gave them candy is beyond me…it just increased their energy and drained ours in the process, but it was all worth it.

They were so eager to learn which made it exciting; and when we weren’t in the classroom they never wanted to leave our sides.  I had one little girl wrap herself around my front and refuse to let go, even for lunch.  The only way to get them off of you is to tell them you have to go to the bathroom, but even they will wait outside the living quarters for you to return.  It’s kind of like a zombie movie, except with kids.

I felt really good after the weekend, exhausted but good.  I was so happy that I had gone, I had really needed to get out of the hostel for a night and breathe and not be surrounded by memories that wouldn’t let me escape their strong hold.  My head felt a little clearer and I was hoping it would help me get my focus back.  

I went again two weeks ago.  This time I had toys for the kids from a backpacker at the hostel and I also had letters.  I had my class work on writing a letter for the kids at the school.  I thought they were just going to write letters but man did they surprise me.  The had coloured paper, stickers, they made envelopes, drew pictures, they really went all out…and what they wrote was just amazing.

We got an early bus so that way we could enjoy Chivay.   There was a celebration going on.  They were playing music and dancing in the street. One lady came and pulled us into the circle and we danced with them.  As we were dancing three crates of beer were brought out and us gringos kept dancing while the locals enjoyed the beer…what is wrong with this picture?  Just as my tastebuds started to crave some beer they started handing it out.   Basically you take sip and pass it on, or they fill up little cups and then when you are done they refill it or take the cup and pass it on.  We were having a great time.  We went and bought a few beers and shared with them to say thanks.   We talked with them in very broken Spanish for about an hour.  We learned that there was a bull fight so we headed to the arena.

The arena was built into the stone cliffs, it was like a mini Odeon…it was pretty cool…however the bullfight wasn’t great.  They kill the bulls, its horrible.  The audience even taunts it by throwing beer on it.  One matador was interesting to watch, he was graceful and danced with the bull, even getting close enough tout his hand on the horn of the bull.  Then he stabbed it with his sword, the secondary matadors come out and taunt it.  It was awful, they hurt it then play with it, I honestly could feel its pain and then with once quick move he stuck his sword in its neck and it dropped to the floor.  I was crying, it is such a horrible sport, killing it for entertainment, I felt like i had witnessed a murder. I would definitely not attend another one.

Teaching was great but exhausting as I didn’t have another teacher to help, but it was still worth it.  The kids were so happy to see us, they remembered us which was great.  They were all over us and kept saying “Tia. Enamorado de ti.”  Lol which means I am in love with you.   They are so full of love and happiness and just want to constantly be near you.  At one point I was surrounded…three were doing my hair, four were checking out my rings and bracelet and wanting to know where they were from, another one was checking out my eyes and telling the others they were green.  I felt like a movie star lol. 

I consider myself extremely lucky to have been able to volunteer there.  I would love to be able to continue but I have quit my job at the school.  I love teaching but was not happy there, there are some things there that Im not overly keen about so I made a tough decision and quit.   

Don’t worry…I have found my gust of wind…this little feather is off for a new adventure.

 

   

 

Oxygen

An Arequipa city map still sits on the bottom of the pool, though the left overs of peoples one night mistakes and unwanted decisions no longer float in the once murky waters of the pool which seem to be less polluted these days. Maybe its because I see the pool as a representation of my brain which is starting to clear and feel less murky, so I see the pool in the same way.

A small ray of sunshine has managed to find its way through the thick confusion of my crash landing into dirty waters of what was, and guided me to the top where I have finally come up for air, inhaling as much oxygen into my thoughts and lungs as possible.  I let it run through my veins pumping clarity and focus back into my blood stream and brain waves.  I have allowed myself to walk back into silence's open door of tranquility and solitude.

Solitude, sounds lonely, and I was scared to go back to it, to let go of the moments and the love of the leftovers that I was dropped into.  Even though I was  scraping the ground and bumping into random things I almost felt that doing that was better...because I felt if I accepted the truth it would all be lost, lost in the other forgotten memories and trinkets of others.  Letting go can be hard, especially when you are the one left to sort through the rubble and keep what needs to be kept.

When your havoc stops and you are dropped, confusion makes it difficult to make sense of anything leaving you questioning everything.  There is so much scattered around you that you don't know where to begin.  Sorting seems impossible, the thought of going through everything and trying to find your way through the maze feels never ending.  Giving up seems to be the easiest option, but the thought of continuing in a murky vision is unappealing enough to make you push through it to find that one little ray of light, that one little ray of hope to lead you to clean, fresh oxygen.

My brain is still a little cloudy...but I suppose after coming out of a dirty pool we will all come out with a little bit of a film of dust on us, and I'm ok with that. Its a film, not a burden of leftovers but a dusting of beautiful memories, the ones that I am meant to keep. 

The sobriety of focus and  tranquility is an incredible feeling...and the colors of my feather seem to have brightened up again and instead of scraping the bottom I have lifted off the ground trying out different gusts to see which one is going to take me where I need to go.

The overtired playlist still plays, but the sounds of dice and a countdown has subsided almost into silence.  It is sad because the life and vibe of our havoc is gone yet being able to breath is a relief so it can be confusing...but I know accepting  the silence and tranquility is reality, and reality and I get along.  I'm still a little sad as I deeply miss my feathers that have blown away, but now instead of endless water filled moments with my eyes, a smile escapes my lips when I remember.

Remembering is great but to live in extinct moments is not the way to live and I can't miss out on other havocs with other beautiful feathers out there.

So with a smile, I lightly dance on the wind ready to get on the gust that is meant for me because this feather is ready.

Stoy en control total de mi Vida.

And to my ray of light....my parents...thank you, you were there when I took my first breath and you gave me another when I needed it ...I am grateful x


                                                                                                                      - My Beautiful Life -

Murky Waters

An Arequipa city map, a napkin and a beer bottle cap sit on the bottom, while condoms and an unused match float in the murky stagnant water of the pool.   I stare at these left overs, left overs of peoples one night mistakes and loss of memory thinking that this is exactly how my brain feels.  Murky and unclean in a stagnant filth of remnants of everyone's good times, bad decisions and memories that may or may not want to be remembered.  I try to sort through the lost inhibitions and dignity for something familiar and solid but I can only find lost moments of what was. Moments that I try to cling too, moments that I want back, moments, I know, that will never be; and so I swim through the murkiness of the polluted water, running out of oxygen, trying to find an opening in everyone's left overs so I can come up for air.

I grasp at anything or anyone that might be able to give me a bit of oxygen, to fill my lungs with some life...but as I search and struggle I realize that everyone around me is swimming in the murky water as well.  I'm not the only one suffocating and searching for breath...my friends are trying to breathe as well...I don't seem to be the only one crashing...everyone around me is crashing.

I look around at the people I have come to love and see as my family, the people who open up their arms and their hearts to me when I'm down. I look at them and see that their magical havoc has stopped and they have crash landed in the dirty waters below.   Whether its, love, a secret, a childhood demon, being lost, not remembering the night before, seeing the demons come out of others or just life itself everyone is crashing.  The music has stopped, the constant laughter we once shared doesn't sail through the halls, the tight unit we had has shifted and changed, the whirlwind we shared has not just stopped for me it has stopped for everyone around me.

The only familiar sound is the clinking of the dice, the overtired playlist at the bar and the shouts of 321 Wild Rover, though even these things seem to have a different feel.  But they continue on as do I, playing my role and over indulging in the dice game and free shots that go down as easy as water these days...masking what I feel so I can get through the nights that no longer have what they once had.

The loneliness of traveling can seem unbearable at times, even though I am a solo traveler and am always surrounded by others that I meet along the way I can feel more alone then anything.  The once familiar quietness seems daunting that I hesitate to go towards its familiar sound of sobriety, focus and contentment; yet I can feel the warmth and the comfort of its security inviting me to come back...and I want to go back...I need to go back...its the only way I can find my gust of wind and keep floating instead of just lightly brushing along the surface hitting stray objects as I move in circles.

People keep saying "you should be used to this, its the life of a feather," and trust me I know, and its a beautiful life...I can't complain, even in down times I don't regret anything...but that doesn't mean it is always easier and that I won't fall into murky waters of leftovers and lost memories...sometimes we need to fall...its ok to lose sight of things and get swept up with others and ride the wind and swirl around,  to be swept up into a magical havoc, but it has to stop and you must fall...because even though it hurts it reminds us that we are human...that we feel, that we love that we bleed.  We need to be reminded of these things because when we are swirling in the havoc of the winds we feel invincible, that nothing can break us, and then  it stops and we fall amongst memories. Falling tests our strengths and abilities and let's us know what we are made of...and I know what I'm made of...I have grown so much in the past four years and know that even after crashing nothing can stop me.  Obstacles may slow me down, emotions may confuse me and my brain may get murky like the pool water or the smoke filled bar, I will fight my way through the waters, find that one ray of sunlight breaking through the almost non-existent visibility and follow it to the surface where oxygen and life will pump through me and lift me up onto my gust of wind to take me back on route of my destiny.  For I am a feather on the wind and I am meant to float and travel where my wind takes me.

                                                                                             - My Beautiful Life -





 

Feathers

Four years ago I hopped on a plane and started this incredible journey that is my life. I have been to 15 countries, traveled thousands of miles, held a monkey, been sky diving, walked the streets of the stars, fell in love, went back to my family roots,  have had long hours of bus rides, counltless hours of layovers, road tripped across my country, drank copious amounts of alcohol, fell in love, found myself, lost myself, seen incredible things, been to incredible places, met amazing people and now am lucky enough to have friends spread all over the world.  I have wandered this beautiful planet not knowing what to do or where to go next.  Like a feather on the wind I let fate take me on the path I am supposed to take and it has never taken me the wrong way.

I am so greatful for all the things I have seen, places I've been and people I have met for they are all part of this incredible journey I am lucky enough to call my life.

It can be a lonely journey at times and other times it is so full of life and love it's hard when each feather hops on its gust of wind that takes them on the path of their journey. Some feathers blow in and out of your life so fast it's hard to remember their colours...others may be around for weeks maybe a month or two at the most but nothing longer.  Meetings and friendships are short lived as floating feathers never really settle.  

Gusts of wind carrying feathers are always swirling around creating a harmonious havoc that has a tendency to cloud your mind but yet it's so beautiful you never want the moments to die and then another gust comes creating more havoc taking some feathers with it and leaving new ones behind all for more beauty and cloudiness to take place again.

Friendships and relationships are intensified in these gusts of havoc. You become so close so fast and sometimes only for a night but yet those moments, those talks, those feathers are the most important ones in your life and it almost seems impossible that you just met but already have to say goodbye.  Some goodbyes are harder than others. Sometimes it's a hug and an "add me on Facebook", other times tears are shed with the hug, then there are the goodbyes that are more painful then anything you could imagine.  This happens when the wind stops.  It slowly dies down taking feathers one by one and then it stops completely leaving you to be dropped on the earth below of left over beer bottles, cigarette butts, dirty socks, a forgotten flip flop and some other feathers you have never seen before making your once familiar surroundings feeling like a place you don't know.  Reality of your lost floating kicks in and you realize that you are once again on your own and you need to find your gust to get you back on your floating path.

 It's hard to focus as you get so used to swirling around that being stationary makes you dizzy with emotion and confusion wondering how you can survive reality.  The quietness seems so loud and unfamiliar you wish another gust would pick you up and swirl you into its beautiful havoc just to feel safe as being on your own is no longer familiar or seems possible. It's unbareable and painful and you miss your feathers...the ones that were swirling with you long enough to make a difference, the ones that cared and floated and swirled at the same speed as you loving every minute of the beautiful havoc that was magical.  You want to know where they went and why they left or didn't take you on their gusts of wind with them?

It's hard to accept that sometimes we just can't get on that gust with someone, even though it may be something you both want it's just not the right gust for both of you as we must all float where our gust takes us not somebody else's.

Unfortunately two of my feathers had to float their own gusts leaving me in the rubble of last nights jäger bombs, new faces and an empty heart.

You don't always realize what other feathers are to you until the wind dies down and they keep floating and you fall.

I miss my feathers with all of my heart.  I'm afraid the leftovers I have landed in are going to be difficult for me to clean up and get back on my gust.

Phil you were my second half, we spent every waking moment together doing everything from drinking brass monkeys, sharing meals, hanging out in the hammocks and talking about nothing and me listening to your randomness that I love so much.  Infected and swollen feet became a thing, watching the World Cup, free shots, ABC parties, smurf parties, nap time, tying your foot to the top bunk, that's how we roll in my neighborhood and I'm the only one, Circus, being at Déjà vu till all hours of the morning, me not remembering how to get home, chicken sandwiches, hostel feet, the witch bar, free shots, snuggles, hopping  a fence to pick me flowers, throwing socks in Ceyhans window and an incredible three weeks.  I miss you more than words can say and the hole in my life that you have left seems unbearable. I still expect to see you when I get home from work only left with the reality that your gust of wind took you a week ago I wish our gusts were going the same way but I know they are not and the swirling havoc we shared has made it impossible for me to grasp the reality that you were swept away on the path that you are meant to take as I'm still here in a place I loved so much feeling unfamiliar. I feel like a part if me left with you on the gust of wind you had to take...I just hope you keep it close to your heart.

Ceyhan...you are my family, my bestfriend and confidant and my brother.  The last two months have been a wild ride of beer pong, free shots, jäger bombs, hiking Misti, a horrible day trip, being broken hearted together, being depressed at the witch bar, chicken sandwiches, Circus, late night staff meetings, talks, hugs, teachers nights (there were so many), theme parties, I have an idea let's paint ourselves blue...absolutely the worst idea ever, brass monkeys and being eachothers support system. A gust of wind took Phil out of my life leaving me devastated and broken and now you hopped on your gust and blew out of my life too soon.  You were my life line, my oxygen and I feel like I can't breath now that you are gone.  You and Phil were my world and with both of you gone I feel like I'm floating off out of orbit even though I have crashed into last nights leftovers.  I know I have had feathers leave before but you two have been the toughest ones to let blow away...I am an emotional reck without you guys here and the worst part is you guys are the ones I float to when I feel like this and now both of you have floated away.  However, I'm a tough little feather and I know I will clean up our left overs of magic keeping some little tokens for myself and get back on my gust of wind that will take me where I need to go...hopefully meeting up with yours along the way.  I love you two so much and you both have made such a mark on my heart it's hard to let go of what was.  I'm so proud of both of you for getting back on your gust and going where you need to go weather it's to clear your head, find yourself...or to go home and sleep in the comfort of your own bed...whatever it is and wherever you may be please don't forget this little feather who loves you and misses you for she will be riding her gust soon to come and float by.

Rovers for Life

We were rockstars

- My Beautiful Life -

My Beautiful Life

My day started off as any other day during the week, except that instead of being another day older I was another year older.   I didn't really have much planned except for a BBQ on our roof the next day and then drinks at one of the discos. Plus the week before Will - the bar manager at Wild Rover (the hostel) - threw me a pre-birthday party which was a blast! 

It was kind of weird not really having any friends or family around.  Not that I was really celebrating but even in Cali, Australia and France I was with friends I had met traveling that I was close with...this year I just woke up and went to work.

My morning went as it usually did, my first class from 7-9 and then my second class (which is my favourite) from 9-11. Other than the birthday wishes I had already gotten on my FaceBook wall they were the first people to wish me Happy Birthday.  As soon as they came into class they walked up to me gave me hugs and kisses and said "Happy Birthday Mees."  They completely made my morning with these sweet wishes.  However on their break just as I was getting ready to grab a tea one of my students opens the cupboard at the back of the class, I was just about to ask her what she was doing when she said "Mees, it's your birthday!" She pulls out this massive Birthday Cake.  They came prepared with plates, spoons, cake cutter, cups for the orange Fanta they brought as well as chocolate cookies and then sang happy birthday in English and Spanish.  Yup you guessed it...I cried.  My eyes welled up. 

I have only been a teacher three weeks and my students are already buying me a birthday cake? I must be doing something right.  This was seriously the highlight of my whole birthday.  As a teacher I'm supposed to be a leader, someone my students can look up to and trust.  I'm supposed to be able to make an impression.  I guess I'm doing my job.  They made me feel so loved and appreciated...happy me.

My birthday wasn't really a huge deal. I mean yes I wanted people to come out but Birthdays now are not what they used to be when I was in my twenties.  And to be honest, this year I was not celebrating turning 25 (for the 100th time)...I mean big deal right another year older woohoo <--- sarcasm. No, this year I decided to celebrate my life and not how old I was.  So much has happened in my life in the past 9 months.  Dan and I seperated which was harder then I aloud anyone to know.  It was heartbreaking and confusing and hard to wrap my brain around at times. I traveled across my beautiful country, met an amazing guy, spent five incredible months on the west snowboarding and spending time with my family that I hadn't seen in years.  I went to Italy with my parents.  I took the TEFL course which was a huge challenge and I almost dropped out thinking I was way in over my head.  Graduating was a huge achievement for me, I really didn't realize how much it had meant to me until I was taking the course.  I backpacked Europe and had one of the best times of my life. I skipped my flight and didn't budget, I drank what I wanted, ate what I wanted and went where I wanted.  For te first time I wasn't "mother budget hen," and it felt great.  I decided that I was going to be selfish and whatever I did and decision I made was going to be about me and no one else. It was the first time in three years I didn't have a special someone in my life that I always had to consider, it is just me, myself and I.  I took a teaching job in Peru and now here I am. Happy as a clam, doing what I love and worked my but off to become.  

In the past 9 months I have had heartache, love, amazing friendships, life challenges, achievements, amazing experiences and opportunities I never could've dreamed of.  In the midst of all this I fell in love.  No...not again...dont freak out.  I fell in love with life...with my life.  Even with everything that happened I managed to find everything beautiful in my life and everything else it has to offer. I'm greatful for everything in my life, even the bad because it is my story and it's a beautiful story.  Everything in life happens for a reason.  I regret nothing, not even getting married because it's part of the the building blocks of who I am, the puzzle pieces of my journey.  It's part of what I have become and what I have achieved to be where I am.  If I regret marriage and separation then I regret where I am...and I definitely do not. How can I ?

I am so greatful and so very lucky to have seen what I have seen, to experience what I have experienced, to have loved and have been loved, for the beautiful people in my life...my students who have shown me so much love in such a short time, my friends that are spread out over every continent of the world, the birthday messages on my Facebook from people who I thought I would never hear from again, to a friend telling me she looks up to me more than I would ever know which means more to me then she will ever know (I look up to you as well), to having the parents that I have and the wonderful opportunities I have had throughout my life and to explore and get to know the people of this beautiful planet...I am thankful.

There is so much to celebrate this year...and it's not my age. It's you and everything you and this world have given me.

                      - My Beautiful Life -

Miss (Mees) Teacher

It's hard to believe I only graduated two months ago today!  So much has happened in that time that I feel like it was a lifetime ago. From backpacking Europe, moving to Peru and bumming around for two weeks, to teaching for the past few weeks.  It's just crazy how the time as flown; and to be honest, I still don't think me being a teacher has fully hit me yet.

I was nervous my first day. I had to prepare for 3 two hour lessons and 1 hour and a half private.  I had been really overwhelmed from my training and wasn't overly confident about teaching that many classes, especially ones that were two hours as I had been trained in 45 minute lessons.

I was up at the crack of dawn - as my schedule begins at the beautiful hour of 7am - got ready and arrived early to get set up for class.

When I was training I was so nervous every class that I would shake. My trainers would always tell me to take a breath and relax.  The last thing I wanted on my first day was the nervous shakes,I didn't want to seem "fresh" to my students, I wanted them to feel confident in me as a teacher.

Well confidence I got...confidence in myself.  It felt so natural, like I had been at the front of a classroom my whole life! I wasn't nervous at all, I flowed naturally and never felt uncomfortable! It was like I was made for it!!! It was so strange how natural it felt.

There are really tough days where it's like pulling teeth to he anything out of my students.  Sometimes they just sit and stare like I have leprosy or something. It is so frustrating that I feel like throwing myself out the window (even though I'm on the ground floor), but just like in teaching practice I am determined to push and get what I can.  I sometimes wonder why I don't go home and drink a bottle of wine to myself lol I don't even drink now unless it's Saturday...I know right, but with early mornings an the altitude drinking is only possible when I don't have to be up in the morning.

Not all my classes are frustrating...most times I have a lot of fun.  Some of my students make me laugh all the time. I have one student that is really cheeky.  See I have a rule in my class...absolutely no Spanish!  But in one of my classes I have two Michelle's so I have named them Michelle Uno and Michelle Dos (1 and two). Erik (my cheeky student) says "mees" (thats how they say miss, though others just say teacher) "mees. No Spanish mees. Only English." Or "mees can we hand in the assignment tomorrow" "sin manyana, oí!" (Not tomorrow today). " mees! You speaka Spanish?!?" Lol they think I lie about being able to speak Spanish. I don't at all but I have picked up a few things in my last month here. It's funny when they are like "mees how do you say..." And they give me a Spanish word.  I just look at them and then they smack themselves in the head and they are like "oh ya." My kids class they always look at me and speak Spanish and I always have to so "no hablo e Spaniol" it can get very tiresome at times especially with the students who barely speak English.  

My other two rules are no cellphones and be on time as here they have no concept on time, being a half hour late is completely normal and acceptable.  Even with the rules in red market on the board don't help.  "Is that Spanish I hear? What are the rules on the board." "No cellphones mees" "I mean the other one" "be on time mees." " I'm serious guys." " no English mees" "that's right no English. No I mean no Spanish." "It's not Spanish mees it's Portuguese." "I may not understand it but I know it's Spanish guys now behave." "Mees?" "Si" "ahh mees, no Spanish English only." Cheeky buggers." How can that make me not smile.  

I give them a quiz for every unit. In one of my classes they had a question asking for three sentences in the past simple tense. My one 14 year old male student writes - about his friend in class - Alexandro was caught watching adult sites on the internet.  Lmfao. It was the right tense I couldn't mark it wrong.  In my other class I was talking about my nut allergy. When my one student finally understood the translation she said "penis?!? Your allergic to penis?!?" I didn't know what to say...I just stares at her and the other students were like peanuts not penus." I had to explain there was an N in the word so she could understand the difference. "Well," he replied "Now you have learned two new words.  Lol I never know what to expect in my classes.

They teach me so much. They are always telling me about customs and dishes and celebrations and yet they are always asking me about me and my life and what Canada is like. Sometimes they want to spend the whole class just asking me questions and I have to stop them.  My Saturday kids class was something else on my first day. One of the girls walked right up to me said hi and just stood there staring at me, but she was standing pretty much agains me (personal space doesnt exist here. The sidewalks are so narrow two people can't walk side by side. They might be short here but that shouldn't affect the width of the sidewalks).  Anyways back my kids.  She was standing so close I stepped back, pointed to a chair and was like "you can sit there." Then in class her and her friend were staring At me.  "I love tour hair" she pretty much whispered. "My hair?" "It's so pretty." Then her friend "your eyes are so pretty." Being blonde haired and green eyed here I kind of stick out like a sore thumb.  It can be annoying at times but cabs always stop for me and ars stop when I want to cross the street so it does work to my advantage.

One of my students in my intermediate classes (I believe has a crush on me). "If you miss one more class I have to sen you to tutoring." "With you mees?" " no I don't tutor." "Then I don't want to go." "Then don't miss anymore classes." "Mees where we go on The weekend for your birthday." We are not going anywhere but I'm going out for dinner with friends." "Ok mees I follow you." "Jimmy you can't follow me." "I follow you mees."  It can definitely be an ego booster at times. But other times is so frustrating and mentally exhausting but it really is worth it.

I am exhausted.  My days are long and I am up so early; plus, I have gained two private students outside of school one has already started and the other (one of the local guys who works at the hostel) is starting at the whining of July). It's great but it just adds more time to my already long day.  I can't complain though.  I work from 7-11 every morning and then I am off till 5.  I have so much time in between (when not teaching my privates) that I can get so much done. I can go grocery shopping, go for lunch to my favourite menu - Emily and I (another teacher) go to this vegeterian menu for lunch. Three courses plus a fresh juice for 7 soles which is equivalent to $2.80 Canadian. Then a healthy quinoa cookie for 1 sole...so amazingly yummy.  Everything is naturally flavored there and so filling. Other days I go up to the roof, put on some music and bask in the hot sun and relax and do lesson plans - my bedroom has a walk out to the roof which is amazing.  I have a view of all three volcanos.  

So... Life is pretty great.  I can not complain about anything.  I am so truly happy.  I have no regrets or second thoughts about making the move out here, and becoming a TEFL teacher was such a great life and career choice.  I can't believe how much has happened since graduation.  To think I was the student who thought she wasn't going to pass the course and now here I am teaching in Peru.  I remember when I called home an told my parents I was applying for a teaching position out here...it seemed unreachable, like an empty dream...and now look at me, happier than a pig in shit!!! I smile while I'm teaching. I think "look at me, how is this possible? I am an English teacher in another country and it feels great." My mum thinks I found my calling.  Maybe she is right.  It only took 33 years...well actually 34, my birthday is in 2.5 hours

:) happy birthday to me.

I was so meant for this!

                             -My Beautiful Life-

A Misti Attempt

Two days of food, 15 litres of water, two tents, three sleeping bags and matresses, 3 coats, 3 pair of sunglasses, 3 walking sticks, 3 pairs of gloves and three of us.  We were doing a two day hike up Misti - one of the three volcanos in Arequipa and the only active one.

We were up and out of the hostel by 7 am, picked up our equipment and were on our way.

We were doing the hike the cheap way.  We rented the equipment for about $40 each, no guide - but Ceyhan is an avid trekker, and did not hire a ride out there.  We were taking a combie - the local transportation; which is an oversized van that they pile in people until it's too full for anyone to stand or sit down.  Someone hangs out of the door and yells at people on the street, when they put their hand up or call out the guy hanging out of the door calls to the driver to stop and the people get on. It's crazy and cramped but the whole experience just put a smile on my face; its these things that make me travel.  It was so packe on the combie that at one point there was no room for me to stand up anymore as there was no floor space.  I had given my seat up for an older woman so I was leaning against our backpacks that were on the floor infront of Ceyhan.  Every time someone got on they were brining I more bags eventually making the floor of the combie non existent.  I had to sit on Ceyhans lap and even then there still wasn't much room for me.

We rode the combie for a little over an hour.  We drove out of the city and into the slums.  It was dusty and dry and little houses had been built all over the sandy landscape of the hills, it was so different from where we were staying.  We drove through slums in a flat area where the houses - if you could even call them that - were made out of makeshift poles and tarps held together by rope and other materials.  I could tell who the people were on the bus that were from the slums; not by their clothing but there hands were withered and there faces were aged.  They were beautiful.

We got dropped off in a square of a little town, three  hours from the actual entrance to Misti and then from there it would be another 4-6 hour trek to basecamp.

 

It was 9am in the morning and it was already super hot, I could tell this was going to be a challenge.
  

We had to follow a path - where we walked with farmers and their pooping cows - that was going to take us to the entrance to Misti; we were on a time constraint as we had to make it to base camp before it got dark which is 6pm.  Nine hours; seems like enough time right? I thought so too but te sligh incline of the path was making it hard for me to breath.  I was walking at a slow pace hoping it would help with my breathing and energy level.  The guys were way ahead if me, they kept looking back and I told them to keep going.  

9:45 - we stopped for a break.  Water.  It made me feel better.  

Off again.  

I really wanted to do this hike.  I wanted to make it to the summit.  I have done hikes before and struggled but always finished.  I was determined, but my breathing was getting worse.  My throat and lungs felt like they were closing up and made me feel like I was going to vomit - I am not exaggerating for writing purposes - I had to keep stopping as I was almost gasping for breathe.  I began getting light headed and then I got a headache.  

10:15 we had to stop again.  This time water and an apple.  I felt heaps better and was ready to push on.

Within two minutes my lungs and throat started closing again and my backpack was not helping, it was between 12-15 kilos but it felt two times heavier.  My back was sweating an my legs didn't want to work the way I wanted them to.  Of course in a moment like this my famous question popped up in my head, say it with me now "wtf did I get myself into."  I looked over at Misti.  The excitement I felt looking at her first thing in the morning had disappeared and now I felt like she was looming over me and taunting me, and that after step I took she just got further and further away.  This was not gonna happen.

11:00 I felt really bad. John was gonna keep going bit Ceyhan didn't want to leave me to go back on my own so off John went on his own.   There was a town an hour away where he could spend the night and then head to Misti and base camp the next day.

Ceyhan and I walked up a little incline - which even bothered my breathing - with an incredible view of Misti and we were able to see the path John was taking.  We rolled out our mattress and plunked ourselves down.

We talked for hours in the hot sun eating our canned beens with crackers.  We saw a tiny John on the path heading towards the town and watched him disappear into the hills.  We said hola  to the local (mountain people) as they walked buy and listened to the mountain donkeys make that loud sound they make.  What's it called? We took a nap, which was amazing.  Nothing like sleeping out in nature like that.

 

Around two o'clock we woke up and saw a tiny figure walking back on the path.  "I think that is John. It looks like white on the bottom of his shorts like Johns have!"  I said.  "Stay here, I will be back in 45 mins" Ceyhan said.  I watched him make his way down the hill.  He was going to try and catch up with him and bring him to where we were.  If he could catch him we were going to camp for the night as we already had the equipment and the food.

I had fallen back asleep and woke up to Ceyhan just returning.  He wasn't able to catch up with John so we were going to head back, but only after we napped a bit more. Ahh nature...

4:00 - We packed up and started heading back,   it was going to take us an hour to get back to town and we wanted to be there before dark.  We looked at Misti, we took in her beauty and admire her from afar.  " We were this close" Ceyhan said.

 

It was way easier heading back as most of it was a decline, however I had angry feet.  My feet hate being covered, they are happiest in flip flops or with nothing on at all and hours in hiking boots - even tough I had taken them off during nap hours and feeding time - they weren't happy and were letting me know by yelling at me in blister form.  

Ceyhan said we should tell everyone back at the hostel that we hiked Misti in one day because we are that good lol.  It made me feel better as I was the reason we didn't make it.

We passed a local that Ceyhan spoke to - in Spanish of course - about John and she said she saw him pass hours ago. Too bad we missed him, camping would've been fun. 

We actually made it back in exactly an hour I was so happy to see the bus stop...with John sitting at it?!?  It had taken him a few hours to get back and had pretty much just gotten there a half hour before us.  He was up for camping but at this point I wanted a shower and a bed.  John told us that when he got to the town it was empty and wasn't able to camp there so he had to head back.  Turns out, even if I hadn't of stopped us and slowed us down we wouldn't have made it to base camp, we were two far and it was a three day hike from our starting point not a two day hike.  That made me feel better.

I was stoked when the bus (combie) came however they wouldn't let us on because it was completely full and our backpacks wouldn't fit.  They pretty much drive off with Ceyhan hanging in the door way.  Great now we had to wait another 45 minutes to an hour.  Not happy.

Ceyhan's Spanish comes in handy.  He walked up to some locals who just so happened to be going back to Arequipa and were willing to take us back in there pick up free of charge.  John hopped in the back seat and Ceyhan and I hopped in the back with all the equipment of the locals and our backpacks.

The drive was amazing! As the sun set Misti and Pichu Pichu (one of the other volcanoes) turned red. Then all the little village lights turned on at the base of the volcanoes sprinkling it with glittering lights.  The ski was clear and we could see the stars perfectly which seemed to move with us as we drove... We even saw a satellite.  

Even though Misti defeated me before I even got close enough to feel we under my feet, the day was pretty good. Sleeping in nature, hanging out, riding in the back of a locals pick up truck...that's what it is all about.

I foud out a few days later that it was the altitude that had affected me while we were hiking.  It has actually affected me a lot here as Arequipa is just over 7,000 feet above see level.  I get dizzy, my breathing is bad, drinking is impossible as 4 drinks and I'm on my ass drunk as a skunk and I'm always tired.  It will take some time too adjust.  Plus Peru belly has been a factor for me since I got here but I'm adjusting to the new feelings of my body and am getting used to the, they are almost normal now.

Misti may have defeated me but I am definitely not letting my students lol however, you will have to wait for my next blog for that. 

Hasta Luego 

    

                                                                                      - My Beautiful Life -