tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18250128823251745812024-03-13T13:31:04.382-07:00Education Generation Fellowship in PeruZayahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11223206298279715162noreply@blogger.comBlogger52125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-89908685895198982352011-08-31T18:06:00.000-07:002011-08-31T20:39:45.273-07:00Tying up Loose Ends (posted by Kie)<span style="font-weight:bold;">The Graduation and Induction Ceremony</span>
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<br />At approximately 10:30 a.m. on Saturday, about 10-12 volunteers and I started working on cleaning and putting up decorations in the Salon Comunal of Ollantaytambo for the graduation and induction ceremony of Mosqoy generations 2 and 4.
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<br />For the decorations, I decided to go for a purple, light blue and royal blue theme which I think ended up looking really nice. We put up 50 balloons, a big Mosqoy banner, made ribbons, put up toilet paper as streamers, and cut out the words “Educar”, “Conectar” and “Preservar” (educate, connect and preserve), three words that fittingly describe Mosqoy’s goals.
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<br />At around 2 p.m., we all ducked out for a quick lunch and after eating, I went to get the Mosqoy netbook with Rolando from my hostel as he had the idea of connecting via Skype with Ashli, the founder and director of Mosqoy, as well as Reanna, the communications liaison between Canada and Peru, during the ceremony. With both Ashli and Reanna on the line and netbook in hand, Rolando and I started walking the cobblestone streets back to the Salon Comunal while I talked to Ashli and typed messages to Reanna.
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<br />Arriving back at the Salon Comunal, we finished up with the decorations and each took turns talking to Ashli. It was really fun as some of the incoming students were there and I think it was their first time using Skype! At around 3:30-4 p.m., people started trickling in with food and while the graduation ceremony was scheduled for 4 p.m., “hora Peruana” prevailed and the ceremony didn’t end up starting until 6 p.m.
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<br />Meanwhile, Lindsay took pictures with some students outside the Salon while I communicated with Ashli and tried to organize a few final things in the Salon Comunal. The leaders and I decided that we would start the ceremony at 6 p.m. sharp, regardless of whether or not everyone would be present.
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<br />As 6 o’clock rolled around, the leaders and I asked everyone to take their seats and Adrian welcomed everyone to the ceremony. After Adrian’s introduction, Elvira introduced the Mosqoy program and articulated the objectives of the program. Following Elvira, Rolando spoke about the successes of the Mosqoy program (there are 43 alumni in total) and his experience of being able to travel to Victoria, Canada last year with the help of Mosqoy.
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<br />After Rolando spoke, the leaders invited the representative of the municipality of Ollantaytambo, Paull Palma Herrera, to give a speech and I think that he did a fantastic job! He encouraged all of the students and alumni to treasure and make the most of the opportunity they’ve been given. He also stressed the importance of education and how the students and alumni need to use their education to become role models and leaders of their communities since without them stepping up to the plate, the economic and social situation of their communities and Peru cannot improve.
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<br />Following Paull, Lindsay gave the Education Generation speech that we wrote together last Monday (it’s amazing to think that we can now write speeches in Spanish after only two months in South America!) and I gave a speech about my experience with the Mosqoy program and living in the house with the students and the leaders. Afterwards I found out from the two friends I invited to the ceremony that they were really impressed with both the contents of the speech and the way that I presented it. I didn’t think I did a bad job with the speech, but I was surprised by just how good they thought it was!
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<br />After I presented my speech, we passed the microphone over to Ashli who was watching the whole ceremony via Skype. Originally Ashli had written a speech for one of us to present on behalf of her, but via Skype, she was able to give the speech personally, which was really great since the students and alumni could hear it directly from her and the words probably meant a lot more coming from her.
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<br />Following Ashli’s speech, the leaders and I welcomed every graduating student to the front to say a few words and accept their certificate, a photo of their class and an agenda. Many of the Mosqoy 2 students accepting their graduation certificates became very emotional on stage and cried as their feelings of gratefulness overwhelmed them. I was not expecting tears and it was very moving to listen to their words of thanks to the Mosqoy program and those individuals who supported them.
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<br />After the Mosqoy 2 students all accepted their certificates and graduation gifts, Rolando introduced the Mosqoy 3 students and each of them said a few words. Finally, Adrian introduced the incoming Mosqoy 4 students and invited them to come up to the stage, accept their induction certificates and a small gift, as well as give a few words.
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<br />Following the formal part of the ceremony was of course, the food! There was plenty of tasty food and drink prepared by the students and their parents which was great. Everyone was served with a portion of “cuy” or guinea pig which I finally resolved to try since it was put on my plate and I thought it would be ungracious not to try it. While it didn’t taste terrible, I couldn’t really get the image of guinea pigs as pets out of my head and therefore was thankful that I didn’t get too much meat on my piece of cuy.
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<br />After we all ate, we opened up the dance floor and got everyone dancing. Elmer, one of the Mosqoy 3 students, is a really enthusiastic dancer and he provided entertainment by dancing with little old ladies and tiring them out within a couple of minutes (I will admit that I too found dancing with Elmer a little exhausting, though also a lot of fun!).
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<br />All in all, I was really happy with the way that the graduation and induction ceremony went since everyone seemed to enjoy the ceremony and party and it was great to be able to pass the time with all of the students, leaders and their parents.
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Goodbyes </span>
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<br />On Monday night we had a party at Casa Mosqoy to celebrate my departure and the birthdays of Rolando and Elizabeth. For the party, I purchased a strawberry and chocolate birthday cake for Rolando and Elizabeth, and some of the students prepared a huge amount of popcorn and hot chocolate which was really nice.
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<br />After everyone had gathered around the table in the living room, Adrian asked for everyone’s attention and started explaining that we were all gathered around since it was my last night in the house as well as in Cuzco, and thanked me for the leadership sessions I conducted as well as all of the work I put into Mosqoy.
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<br />Following Adrian’s speech, Elvira, Dina, Mariela, Yolanda, Nohemi and Rolando also thanked me for my work, my presence and positive energy. I was honestly so touched (and not expecting thank you speeches!) that I started tearing up. Dina, Mariela and Yolanda gave me parting gifts as well and Elizabeth and Lisbeth came up afterwards to give me hugs and tell me, “<span style="font-style:italic;">Cuidate mucho. Te voy a extrano mucho. Vuelves pronto.</span>” (Take care. I will miss you a lot. Come back soon.).
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<br />Following the speeches, we sang “Happy Birthday” to Rolando and Elizabeth, ate some cake, and then commenced dancing. We danced “waino” for most of the night, which is a traditional type of Andean dancing combined with Andean music (with Quechuan lyrics). “Waino” is really fun to dance both in groups and in pairs, and we danced the night away.
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<br />While I was tired after all of the dancing, I wanted to finish up decorating the leaders’ office so I headed into the office and worked on outlining and cutting out the leaders’ names on construction paper to place on the wall of the office (earlier in the day I had put up photos of the leaders) and called it a night at 1:30 a.m.
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Reflections</span>
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<br />It’s incredible how quickly time can pass by. Though two and a half (almost three) months can sound like a long time, in the grand scheme of things, it really isn’t. Starting my journey in Bolivia on June 12th, I didn’t really know what the next few months would bring... It brought a whole range of emotions including excitement, nervousness, sadness, frustration and happiness. I felt excited to meet the Mosqoy students and leaders, nervous to conduct leadership training in Spanish, sad when I heard stories of hardships from the students and leaders, frustrated when things didn’t go as planned and moments of happiness when I felt like I was really making a difference in the students’ and leaders’ lives.
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<br />Things aren’t easy in Peru. Some students at Casa Mosqoy only get 20 soles ($7) a week which has to cover their food, transportation not only within the city but back to their homes for the weekend (for example, to commute one way to Ollantaytambo it is about 5 soles), school supplies/costs and the electricity and gas in the house. The standard of living is cheaper here than in Vancouver but 20 soles is definitely not enough for one week. Some students opt to walk to their institute or university just so they can save 60 céntimos (60 Peruvian cents), the cost of a combi ride.
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<br />It’s common for there to be alcoholism and domestic abuse in the students’ homes and for a person to have 5 siblings or more, or parents who had children while they were very young because there is a lack of education in Peru when it comes to family planning. Though the Mosqoy program is assisting the students with paying for their education and housing, it’s hard on many families since the students often are not earning anything to support themselves or their families (most can only work on their “chakras” or farms one or two days a week during the weekend).
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<br />In Cuzco, tourism thrives but many who work in tourism are suffocating as the level of competition is so high. The big tour companies suck up most of the money while the smaller agencies have to resort to dropping their prices and the quality of their tours due to the intense rivalry. Then there are companies like Peru Rail, the major train company that has over 20 trains going back and forth to Machu Picchu a day, and often doesn’t pay or treat their employees fairly.
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<br />I am writing about these hardships because I think it is important for everyone to know that organizations like Mosqoy and Education Generation are making a difference in people’s lives here and I can confidently say that I have witnessed how much the support means to the students and leaders who are receiving help from Mosqoy and Education Generation. I can´t say for sure whether Mosqoy or Education Generation’s support of youth in the Sacred Valley is creating instantaneous change or change on a grand scale, but in the very least I believe that the two organizations are generating change - just in a more subtle and incremental way. One cannot always see it but occasionally it bubbles and comes to the surface – for example, with the four Peru leaders that graduated at the end of 2009 and who are now spearheading the program down here, I can see that the program has empowered them and that they truly appreciate the help that they’ve received since they have decided to continue their involvement in the program, to live in Casa Mosqoy with the students, and to put in several hours a week of volunteer work without pay for over a year. I can only hope that the ripple effect will continue.
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Final Words</span>
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<br />With this blog post, I’d like to express my sincere thanks to everyone who supported my decision to come down to Peru and volunteer (especially to those at my workplace who accommodated my leaving for two and a half months), to everyone who donates to Mosqoy and/or Education Generation, all of the Mosqoy and Education Generation volunteers, and finally to everyone who has been following my blog posts and who has been here with me in spirit.
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<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Un fuerte abrazo a todos,</span>
<br />Kie
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<br />Lindsay, Elvira and I with Cynthia, a Mosqoy 2 alumnus
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<br />The leaders and I with Paull, the municipality representative of Ollantaytambo
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<br />At the Ollantaytambo community-wide event
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<br />At the Ollantaytambo community-wide event
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<br />The leaders and I on Avenida del Sol
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<br />The Casa Mosqoy Party!
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<br />Adrian, Ebhert, Rolando A. and I
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<br />Rolando H. and I
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<br />Adrian and Elvira dancing
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<br />Notes that the students left me on the communal whiteboard
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<br />Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-70018440475681042392011-08-28T12:14:00.000-07:002011-08-28T12:58:03.461-07:00Hospitals and Holidays (posted by Lindsay)<strong>Q’enqo</strong>
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<br />Against all better judgment, I made the trip out to Q’enqo – a remote weaving community on the outskirts of Ccorao. I met Adrian at 6:00am at the white bridge (our usual meeting spot). I warned him that this would be a rather short trip, as I had been ill since Tuesday. “Also,” I added, “do not, I repeat, do not let me eat any form of community offering.” He laughed, recalling my experience with the potatoes in Q’enqo and agreed to supervise my intake for the day. We hopped into a <em>combi</em> heading along the Pisac route. The <em>combi</em> climbed the steep hill out of Cuzco at a snail pace. This enraged passengers who were expected at work by daybreak. “My grandmother can walk faster!” said one passenger. “Let’s go back to the terminal and board another <em>combi</em>” commented another. As the <em>combi</em> driver fought back, Adrian and I sat back in our chairs chuckling.
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<br />Adrian and I met Bacelio (the President of the weaving community) at the bridge on the side of the road and the three of us negotiated a taxi to Q’enqo. As we passed over a steep section of the mountain ridge, I felt my stomach in knots. I gazed out the window trying to disturb my train of thought. “Just a few months ago, a tour bus went over the cliff here,” Bacelio said. “Sorry?” I said. “A tour bus went over the cliff here – several tourists died,” he said nodding. “Oh,” I said, and turned my head back towards the window. My stomach now churning, I grumbled “not an opportune moment, Bacelio” under my breath.
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<br />We arrived in Q’enqo just after 9:00am and immediately I set to work. I walked up the road to Sonia’s house (a Mosqoy 3 student) and was given a tour of her home. I then proceeded to the Q’enqo school complex to examine the site where a new library was being planned. Mid-morning, Adrian and I joined Bacelio on a small patch of grass and inquired about logistics of the Kallpa K’oj projects requested the previous month. Reminding myself that this needed to be a short visit, I stood up, thanked Bacelio and signalled to Adrian that I was ready to leave. As we walked to the road, we were immediately struck by the lack of taxis – after all, it was Sunday, and taxis are few and far on Sundays. Adrian and I walked back to Bacelio’s home, wondering how we would find our way back to Cuzco. (Not having been well, hiking was certainly out of the question). Bacelio appeared from the kitchen and announced that a truck would be passing through shortly and suggested that we hitch a ride. “Why not!” I said aloud, and we made our way up the road to where the truck was loading.
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<br />We were introduced to the truck driver. He cleared the seats and suggested we occupy the seats up front. I examined the inside of the truck and decided that I would not survive the rocky/unmaintained road with my stomach in this condition. “Thank you, but I think I will ride in the open wagon” I said. The driver reacted with a blank stare. “I have been feeling very sick,” I explained, “if I need to throw up, it will be much easier for me to do so from the wagon.” He laughed and signalled for me to enter through the rear. I joined several locals in the wagon, who had already secured a seat on a large pile of straw-woven bags. “What is in the bags?” I asked. Adrian said something, but the word did not register in my vocabulary. I thought little of it and assumed it to be nothing more than rice or corn. “What is in the bags again?” I asked. “Excrement,” Adrian said. “Excrement?” I asked. “Sheep excrement,” Adrian confirmed. “Oh,” I said, “interesting.” I took a seat on a nearby bag of sheep excrement as the engine started.
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<br />As we drove down the narrow road, we had nail-biting encounters with cars trying to pass. One in particular had everyone on edge: a rather large van pulled up beside our truck wanting to pass. There was clearly not enough room for both vehicles on the road, and neither vehicle was willing to take the outside lane which overlooked a steep rock-face cliff. “You pass,” said the driver of the van. “No you pass,” said the truck driver. I was immediately reminded of the story Bacelio had told me just hours earlier and wondered if a similar situation had unfolded. “If I die,” I assured myself, “at least I will die doing something unique like riding in the wagon of a manure truck.” It took over 20 minutes of hair-splitting and measuring before the van passed and we were free to continue on.
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<br />Mid-point between Q’enqo and Ccorao, the other passengers signalled to the truck driver that this was their stop. I looked around, noting to myself that we were in the middle of nowhere. I wished them well on their way and we continued down the road to Ccorao. The truck let us off on the main road in Ccorao where we hopped the next passing <em>combi</em> into Cuzco. I was confronted with penetrating stares on the <em>combi</em>. At least a few minutes passed before I was able to piece together that the leers were in response to the strong odours of manure. I shrugged and took a seat near the rear of the <em>combi</em>. “Many visit Peru,” I thought to myself, “but few have the opportunity to experience Peru from the rear of a manure truck.” I smiled to myself knowing that these moments are the moments that stay with you.
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<br /><strong>Cuzco</strong>
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<br />I awoke to the sound of my alarm at 5:00am on Monday morning. Tears flooded my eyes as I knocked on the family’s bedroom door. The door opened and Tula appeared in the hallway. “Lindsay, it’s 5:00am, what’s wrong?” “Please, I need to use your phone” I said, “I need to call Elivra (one of the Peru leaders) and tell her that I am not able to travel to Amaru today.” “Of course, of course” she replied, “is everything okay?” “I have been throwing up all night,” I said, shaking my head, “I really don’t feel well at all.” “Take my phone,” Tula said, handing it to me. “Make your phone call and then I insist that you go to the clinic at first light.” “Okay,” I said, realizing that, after 6 days, I had finally reached my breaking point. I dialed Elvira’s number. No answer. I lost track of how many times I dialed her number, before finding the sense to call the cellphone of another Peru leader in the house. Adrian answered. “Lindsay?” “Yes, Adrian, it’s me” I said, “please tell Elvira that I cannot travel to Amaru today – I am really ill and need to go to the clinic.” “Okay, Lindsay, no problem” he said, “it is more important that you go to the clinic.”
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<br />And at first light, I did – I hopped into a taxi and asked the driver to leave me at <em>Clinica San Jose</em>. I waited only a few minutes before being seen by a doctor. He conducted a thorough physical exam, as I listed my symptoms. “Since Tuesday?” he asked. “Yes,” I said. “Almost a week,” he said, shaking his head. “Yes,” I said. The words did not cross his lips, but I knew he was thinking something along the lines of “You stubborn old goat!” “Wait here,” he said. He left and returned to the room in a matter of minutes. “Come with me,” he said. I followed him into the emergency holding room. “I am admitting you into the hospital for 3 to 4 days,” he said. Thoughts raced through my head, but I found myself too exhausted to ask why. I rested on the nearby bed. I watched as a mother tended to her young sick child in the adjacent bed; her eyes were weak and filled with sorrow. The nurse left and returned with a needle and IV line. She lifted my left hand, tapping it with her fingers to find a suitable vein. As she inserted the needle, tears came streaming down my cheeks. “It won’t go in, I’m sorry,” she said as she took my right hand. The pierce of the needle sent more tears streaming down my cheeks, though I was unclear as to whether my tears were out of fear or pain. “Don’t cry,” she said to me in a calm voice, “let’s take you to your room.” She guided me into a wheelchair and brought me to the sixth floor. “You’re burning up,” she said, as she put her hand to my forehead and helped me into my bed.
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<br />I awoke an hour or two later to a group of doctors standing at my bedside. “Lindsay,” he said, “we are very concerned about your symptoms and even more concerned that you let an entire week pass before being admitted to the hospital.” Not knowing what to say, I said nothing. The doctors made notes on their clipboards, as if I were a rat in a maze being judged for performance. I nodded and turned back onto my side as they left the room. I awoke again at 3:30pm, and rang the button beside my bed. A nurse entered the room. “When can I go home?” I demanded, “I want to go home.” She left the room, with promises to return with an answer. She returned half-an-hour later with another nurse, changed the IV line and proceeded to exit the room. I sat up in my bed and, out of frustration, I pulled the IV line out of my right hand. I walked out into the hall and confronted 3 nurses sitting at the desk. “Can I go home now?” I asked irritated, “I want to go home.” The nurses whispered amongst themselves and one left to retrieve the doctor. “When can I go home?” I asked the doctor.
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<br />He stood up from his seat. “You have salmonella,” he said in a firm, but calm voice, “you are not permitted to leave this hospital.” “Sal-Salmonella?” I stammered, “how?” “Yes, salmonella” he repeated, “you are not permitted to leave this hospital.” I shuffled backwards trying to absorb what I had just been told. “Okay…” I said, feeling beat, “…can I at least return home to gather some of my belongings?” I asked. “You have one hour,” he said irritated, “and give me your passport – I am going to hold on to it until you return.” Before I could ask why, he explained, “so you come back, Lindsay…so you come back.” “Okay,” I said and begrudgingly handed it over. I returned home, gathered a few of my belongings and hailed a taxi to the nearest internet café. I frantically emailed anyone I thought may be able to help me sort through my emergency health insurance in the one hour that I had been granted. I felt relief having been able to connect with a work colleague who kindly offered her assistance.
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<br />I returned to the hospital at 5:00pm. The doctor handed me my passport and ushered me into my room. I changed into sweatpants, effectively resigning myself to my hospital bed. A nurse entered a few minutes later. “Why did you remove your IV line?” “And why did you leave the hospital?” she asked angrily. “I am sorry,” I said, “I am sorry…I just…I just wanted some of my things.” She looked at both of my hands and shook her head furiously, knowing that she could not insert another needle into my swollen hands. She rolled up the sleeve of my left arm, patting my arm for a vein to appear. She inserted the IV line and left the room without saying a word. That evening, a nurse returned what felt like every 3 to 4 hours to change the fluids and increase the antibiotics.
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<br />I was woken at 6:00am by a nurse tinkering with my IV line. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully. “Good morning,” I replied. I spent the better half of the morning watching television and asking passing nurses when they thought I could be discharged. “Lindsay!” I heard from the doorway – “why didn’t you tell me you were in the hospital?” demanded Tula (my Peruvian mother). “I did,” I said, “I told your husband.” He must have misunderstood, we both realized. An hour later, I was surprised to see Kie and Elvira walk into the room. Kie recounted her week’s events at <em>Casa Mosqoy</em>. The morning turned into afternoon and my questions about when I could be discharged became more frequent. “When can I go home?” I asked one nurse. “Not anytime soon, my dear” she replied, “you are required to have 4 more IV lines before we release you.” I slumped back into my bed and spent the afternoon watching television.
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<br />I wasn’t released from the hospital until nearly 9:00pm. As I waited for my release papers, I struck a conversation with a small group of Italian tourists. I learned that their friend had fallen from the peak of Wayna Picchu earlier that day, breaking her arm clean. I wished her a speedy recovery and left the hospital. Eager to leave, I had forgotten to remind the nurses to remove the IV tube from my arm. I thanked my lucky stars that Eloy (my Peruvian father) is a jack of all trades and was able to safely remove the tube when I returned home. As I crawled into bed, I sighed with relief, “home at last” I assured myself.
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<br />I spent the majority of the week recovering in bed. I was eager to continue on with 5 days of rehydration and antibiotic treatments, though I had lost all remaining desire to eat. It took far too many words to explain to the family that nothing kills your appetite faster than a good bout of salmonella. Thursday came around and I found myself restless, eager to continue on with my work. Against my doctor’s orders, I decided to make the trip out to Huaran and Calca to meet with the community weavers. Although my visit was short, I was happy just to have left my bed for the day. By Sunday night, I was feeling much better than I had been over the past two or so weeks. That night, the family came over for dinner, allowing me the chance to say my goodbyes to everyone. I felt compelled to gift a picture of myself (together with my sisters) and chocolates as a small token of my appreciation for the hospitality they have shown me over the past two months.
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<br /><strong>Ollantaytambo</strong>
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<br />On Monday morning, I set off for Ollantaytambo. I secured my spot in the <em>combi</em> beside a charming woman from the United States. As we got to talking, we realized that she knew and, in fact, was friends with my homestay family in Ollantaytambo. “Small world!” she said. “No,” I said laughing, “small Ollantaytambo.” I arrived in Ollantaytambo just after 4:00pm and settled into my homestay family. The family had ordered pizza for dinner, but, Nelson, the little rascal that he is, decided that pizza wasn’t enough, and so he ate an entire bag (sandwich-sized) of mayonnaise!
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<br />The next morning, I woke up with a strong desire to tackle the ruins that tower over Ollantaytambo. It was a 20-minute scramble to the top, and well worth it (the view was absolutely breathtaking). I sat at the base of the ruins for a while, reflecting on my experiences in Peru. I found myself smiling, reminded of the incredible journey I have had and of the importance this will hold later in life. I returned home later in the afternoon and stumbled upon Nelson in the plaza. He was eating ice cream – though, by the looks of it, he had gotten more on his face than he had in his mouth. I spoke with my homestay family and learned that Nelson had been ill all night. I reminded her that just last night he consumed an entire bag of mayonnaise. “You are right!” she exclaimed, having completely forgotten. I laughed and asked her if she wanted more children. She looked at Nelson and then back at me and shook her head. “No,” she said, “I think 3 is plenty…” I chuckled, knowing she probably could not handle another Nelson. I remain certain that he would be perfect for the role if a Peruvian version of Dennis the Menace was ever to be released. That evening, I sorted through some graduation packages in an effort to get everything in order for the Mosqoy graduation and induction ceremony on Saturday.
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<br />On Wednesday morning, I took to the streets of Ollantaytambo. I spent the day exploring the cobblestone streets of Ollantaytambo and the artisanal markets. In the afternoon, I went searching for Victoria, the President of the Cancha Cancha weaving association, in hopes that we could reschedule the meeting that I had missed the week prior. Unfortunately, I had no luck finding her or anyone who knew of her in Ollantaytambo. I laughed at the irony of it all. I returned home late afternoon for a bowl of white rice – the only thing I feel confident I can eat at this point - and Nelson and I played a game of soccer in the streets. I spent the evening closing out project tasks before turning in for the night.
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<br /><strong>The Journey Continues…</strong>
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<br />They say you haven’t traveled until you have taken on South America. I hope that my time here shows this to be nothing short of true. In reflecting on my experiences in Peru, I feel grateful to have been awarded such a unique opportunity and am proud to have contributed to something both tangible and sustainable. I have been humbled by my interactions with the weaving communities and remain hopeful that I have, in some way, impacted the lives of those living in rural Peru.
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<br />Though, I admit, I am sad to be leaving Peru, I find myself eager to continue on with my journey. I part now to Bolivia, Ecuador, Chile, Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, Brazil, Venezuela and, time permitting, Guyana. I anticipate and am sharp to take on more challenges. And I am ambitious to absorb new experiences ahead, because, for me, experience is the journey.
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<br />Signing off,
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<br />Lindsay Zibrik
<br />Education Generation Peru Fellow 2011
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TrsTcF7TuYM/TlqXI47D4CI/AAAAAAAAAIo/e9LHHLZ_EMQ/s1600/P1150076.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TrsTcF7TuYM/TlqXI47D4CI/AAAAAAAAAIo/e9LHHLZ_EMQ/s400/P1150076.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645991261837189154" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-89747952242270682672011-08-24T11:30:00.000-07:002011-08-24T11:52:29.636-07:00Counting down the days in Peru (posted by Kie)From attending a wedding on Friday evening, buying office furniture for Casa Mosqoy, purchasing decorations for Saturday’s graduation and induction ceremony, and possibly spraining my big toe during a soccer game yesterday, the past few days in Cuzco have definitely not been boring.
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<br />On Wednesday night of last week, Adrian, one of the Peru leaders invited me to attend a local wedding on Friday in Cuzco. I accepted his invitation to attend as I thought it would be an interesting cultural experience and I haven’t been to a wedding for a very long time (I think I attended one when I was about 4 or 5 years old, but I don’t remember much of it since I was so young). The wedding was of a classmate of three of the Peru leaders, Adrian, Rolando and Ebhert. The wedding was supposed to start at 5 p.m. but we didn’t end up leaving the house until just after 6 p.m. I thought that we were going to be late but the wedding ceremony didn’t end up starting until 7:30 p.m. so it all worked out in the end.
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<br />The hall where the wedding ceremony was held was quite spacious and the ceremony was very nice. Originally, I was a bit worried about my attire since I didn’t bring any formal clothes to Peru but there were quite a few people who were casually dressed (in jeans and/or track jackets) so thankfully I wasn’t underdressed in the end. Though Elvira and I didn’t know the bride or groom, we were invited to the stage to take photos with the bride and groom which was pretty funny.
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<br />Afterwards we headed to the reception hall (at the School of Journalism) which was decorated really nicely in purple and white. The party started off with some dancing followed by the throwing of the bouquet and some speeches by the bride, groom and a few of their family members. At around 11 o’clock, dinner consisting of lechon (roasted pork) with beet salad, a type of potato and a corn dish was served, accompanied by pisco sours and chicha morada (a purple corn drink). Dinner was followed by more dancing and cake at around 12:30 a.m.
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<br />The next day, Elvira and I were supposed to wake up at 7 a.m. in order to go and buy furniture for the leaders’ office in Casa Mosqoy but considering the late night, we didn’t end up waking up until 9 a.m. First, we headed to the internet café to check our e-mail and I saw that I had received an e-mail from Reanna about an Indigenous Peoples Assistance Facility (IFAD) grant that Mosqoy is applying for and for which the Peru leaders would have to write a letter regarding how Mosqoy assists and empowers indigenous people and communities in Peru. After checking our e-mails, we headed to El Mercado Molino to scope out the furniture. Thinking that maybe there might be cheaper furniture at El Baratillo in Santiago, a market held on Saturdays infamous for the sale of stolen goods, we decided to head there (but not to buy stolen goods). After looking at many tables and chairs, we settled on purchasing a big table and four chairs from a shop that was somewhat arbitrarily chosen (it was pretty hard deciding where to buy from since all of the wood furniture at all of the stores seemed pretty similar).
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<br />The next half an hour was spent trying to chase down a taxi that would be willing to drive us back to Casa Mosqoy with all of the furniture. Elvira walked up the street a little bit in the hopes of that it would be a bit easier to catch a taxi while I guarded the furniture. 5-10 minutes later Elvira was in the passenger seat of a taxi and had negotiated with the taxi driver that he would drive us to Casa Mosqoy for 9 soles.
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<br />The next morning at 8:30 a.m. the leaders and I started our work on the IFAD letter on the rooftop patio of Casa Mosqoy. It was interesting to see how the leaders articulated their ideas and worked together. We ended up working until approximately noon when we decided to go to the Lima vs. Cuzco futbol game at the main stadium in Cuzco. We took a cab to the stadium and bought our tickets for the game. I was really excited to watch the game since I had been wanting to watch a futbol game in Cuzco before leaving the city. It was a great game since there is a high amount of rivalry between Lima and Cuzco and the Cuzco fans in the front had some red gas that they released (which I hope and believe was harmless!) as well as threw toilet paper on the field while jumping around and cheering.
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<br />After the futbol game, the leaders and I had a late lunch and later that night, after I went to visit my homestay family, we worked on the IFAD letter a bit more but as it became quite late and everybody was tired, we agreed to finish the letter the following night.
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<br />On Monday morning, I gave Elvira and Ebhert their official letters regarding their acceptance to come to Canada, study English at the University of Victoria, and give workshops/speeches about Peruvian indigenous culture. When I gave Elvira her letter, she smiled and said “Que chevere!” (How great!). I am really excited for Elvira and Ebhert to come to Canada as I think it will be such a great opportunity for them both and I am hoping to give them a tour of Vancouver when they come in January!
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<br />After giving Elvira and Ebhert their acceptance letters, I met up with Lindsay to write an Education Generation speech in Spanish after which I did some computer work.
<br />That night, the leaders and I finished writing the IFAD letter and sent it to Reanna, Mosqoy’s Canada-Peru liaison. We all felt pretty good about the end result since everybody worked together as a team and were able to express what they wanted to say in the letter.
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<br />Tuesday involved purchasing decorations for the Graduation and Induction Ceremony that is coming up this Saturday and teaching a semi-private English class to Elvira, Ebhert and Adrian. After the students cleaned the house and their rooms and bathrooms, 10 of us went to play soccer. Mariela, one of the students, ended up kicking the ball too hard and it went over the fence into the city streets below. Alex and Elmer ran to get another ball from the house and we continued playing though about 15-20 minutes later, I kicked one of Adrian’s shins too hard and hurt my big toe on my right foot quite badly (I think it may actually be sprained) so I had to sit out the rest of the game.
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<br />After the game and dinner, the leaders and I made a few short thank-you videos for my law firm, Koffman Kalef LLP, who donated a great deal of funds to Mosqoy and Education Generation and were incredibly supportive of me coming over here to volunteer. Making the videos was pretty funny as the Peru leaders struggled with pronouncing “Koffman Kalef”. I told them that some people back home also have problems with pronouncing the name of the firm.
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<br />Following the making of the videos, we went over the Graduation and Induction Ceremony agenda for Saturday and assigned speaking roles for everyone.
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<br />As you can see, it’s been a very busy week for me and the next few days will also be packed!
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<br />Tonight I am holding a trivia night for the students at the house; tomorrow is the final Mosqoy 4 meeting during which we will make the final preparations for the Graduation and Induction Ceremony and the soccer and volleyball tournament; Saturday is the Graduation and Induction Ceremony; Sunday is the community-wide soccer and volleyball tournament; and finally Monday is my last night in Casa Mosqoy so we’ll probably have a party of sorts!
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<br />It’s really incredible how quickly the fellowship has passed by and I’ll be sad to leave!
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<br />The Reception
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<br />Our table with the bride
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<br />The boys, Rolando, Adrian and Ebhert with the bride and maid of honour
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<br />Sunday morning meeting to write the letter to the Indigenous Peoples Assistance Facility
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HI6sotCV3C4/TlVFRDKzPtI/AAAAAAAAAHo/HpcDEv5G8YM/s1600/DSC_0200.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HI6sotCV3C4/TlVFRDKzPtI/AAAAAAAAAHo/HpcDEv5G8YM/s320/DSC_0200.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644493867189485266" /></a>
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<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toXlrjC8t18/TlVFRUivy_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/Ls7JP9JR0zM/s1600/DSC_0203.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toXlrjC8t18/TlVFRUivy_I/AAAAAAAAAHw/Ls7JP9JR0zM/s320/DSC_0203.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644493871853325298" /></a>
<br />We needed some entertainment (Rolando and Ebhert dancing; Rolando has a shirt on his head to display that he is playing the woman in this dance)
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hR3RsMDG8Ac/TlVHhX16WZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/_mqtrhpF-c4/s1600/DSC_0081.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hR3RsMDG8Ac/TlVHhX16WZI/AAAAAAAAAH4/_mqtrhpF-c4/s320/DSC_0081.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644496346640177554" /></a>
<br />When we lost our soccer ball...
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<br />Group photo at the basketball court which we use to play soccerKiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-5795631947620237792011-08-20T20:33:00.000-07:002011-08-20T21:24:22.276-07:00Moving into Casa Mosqoy (posted by Kie)On Monday I arrived at Casa Mosqoy at around 1 p.m. with my bags only to find that I could not open the door with the key that Elvira, one of the Peru leaders, had lent me. I knocked on the door to see if anyone was home and could open the door from the inside. Dina, one of the students, came running downstairs and I asked her whether she could open the door from her side. She said that extra security had been put in the door (which I may have put in by accident by turning the key in the lock so many times) and therefore she could not open the door.
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<br />After trying to open the door multiple times from my side, I asked whether anyone would be coming home from lunch and could possibly open the door. Dina responded that ‘yes, there should be other students coming home soon’ and ran up to the second floor where her room was in order to keep a look out for any students that might be arriving. Approximately 5 minutes later, she saw Sandra get off a combi and called to her to come to the house and help open the door. However, Sandra did not hear Dina and started walking down a street away from the house. I asked Dina for Sandra’s phone number so that I could call her and when Sandra picked up, I asked her if she could come to the house since I could not get in.
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<br />Sandra showed up a couple of minutes later and she tried opening the door for about 10 minutes but could not. I decided to call Adrian, the Peru leader in charge of house supervision, and he mentioned that he had another set of keys in his room that might work. However, they did not work either. After another twenty minutes of attempting to open the front door from both sides, we finally managed to open it which was a great relief. In other news, living at Casa Mosqoy has been fun though a bit noisy (people really like to blast their music here!) and there is no aguas calientes (ie. hot water).
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<br />Coming from a developed country, I have been spoiled with always being able to access hot water so it is definitely difficult to shower in ice-cold water. Just the thought of it makes me shiver! At times there is also no running water: though you can turn the tap upstairs to get the water running, the leaders and students turn it off at certain times during the day so that they don’t use it all up. The house definitely needs a lot more amenities including a fridge, shelves/cupboards to put food and kitchen supplies in, an oven, perhaps a microwave and more furniture in general. I am thinking about doing a fundraiser or two when I get back home specifically for these amenities.
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<br />After I moved in, Elvira, Mariela and Yolanda helped me set up my bed and at 8 p.m. we had a Casa Mosqoy meeting to discuss the cleaning of the house, the new Mosqoy rules and the invitations for the Graduation and Induction Ceremony next Saturday. The students agreed to buy the invitations the following day and to go to Ollantaytambo on Wednesday afternoon in order to distribute the invitations.
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<br />The next morning, Elvira and I went to visit Lindsay in La Clinica San Jose as she had contracted salmonella. I was happy to see the Lindsay looked and felt a lot better. A few of us had been urging her to visit the clinic for awhile but alas, due to her stubbornness, she did not go as soon as she probably should have. After visiting Lindsay at the clinic, Elvira and I went to Western Union to withdraw the funds to pay the institutions for the students. We had to wait there for awhile and after we received the cheques to withdraw the funds from Scotiabank, we decided to grab some lunch before heading to meet Mariela and Yolanda to choose and design the invitations.
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<br />Following lunch, Elvira and I went to Scotiabank to withdraw the funds for the institutes. I was happy to have a secure “secret” flap in my backpack to hold all of the 17,487 soles! We headed to Antonia Lorena and Khipu to pay them. At Khipu, we were told to come back at 5 p.m. because in the past, Mosqoy had obtained a discount for all of the students since they are affiliated with an NGO, but the person receiving payments could not authorize the discount and so we had to wait for Senora Violetta who approves any and all discounts (I will admit this was just a teensy bit frustrating since it was probably my fourth or fifth time at Khipu in the past week).
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<br />That night, the leaders and I held an impromptu meeting with some of the students in order to determine who should be invited to the Graduation and Induction Ceremony. We wanted to make sure to invite some important members of the Sacred Valley such as the mayors of Ollantaytambo and Urubamba. The previous mayor of Ollantaytambo attended the Graduation Ceremony last year so we are hoping that David Canal, the current mayor of Ollantaytambo, will be able to attend the Graduation and Induction Ceremony this year.
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<br />On Thursday evening, I held a leadership session with the Peru leaders where three of the leaders gave 5-10 minute speeches on a topic of their choice. Adrian spoke about technology and different communication methods; Rolando spoke about the problem of tourism in Cuzco; and Elvira spoke about the maltreatment/abuse of children. It was interesting listening to their opinions and seeing how they communicated differently. Each of us also filled out evaluations about each speech so that all of them can see what their strengths and weaknesses are.
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<br />Following the speeches, we discussed constructive criticism and I asked the leaders to think of different situations and how constructive criticism could be applied to those situations. Rolando asked how constructive criticism could be used in a situation where people disagreed on the number of guinea pigs to bring to a Graduation Ceremony (for example, if some people thought that one guinea pig should be provided by every person and if some people thought that one guinea pig should be provided for every two people). Elvira said that in this situation she would ask whether everyone wanted to eat and if so, they would have to each bring a guinea pig. Then the leaders asked me what I would do, to which I responded that I would probably ask everyone to vote and the majority would decide the outcome.
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<br />At the end of the leadership meeting, I asked the leaders to each write their name on the bottom of a piece of blank paper and pass the piece of paper to the left, after which each person had to write a couple of phrases expressing what they valued about the person whose name was written on the bottom of the paper. For example, a couple of things that the leaders wrote on my piece of paper include: “I like your behaviour with us [the leaders], the students and the way that you use to express yourself” and “I like that you are happy, very interesting, tolerant and a person who collaborates a great deal with others”. It was a really positive way to end the leadership session and I think that in general, people don’t compliment each other enough which is why I really enjoyed doing this exercise.
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<br />The next couple of days will be filled with buying furniture for the Casa Mosqoy office, my final leadership session with the leaders and holding a trivia night for the students.
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<br />I’d like to end this blog post on a happy note – more than half the money has been raised to bring two of the Peru leaders, Elvira and Ebhert, to Victoria and Vancouver next January! They will be in Victoria to study English and also give workshops and speeches about traditional Peruvian Andean culture.
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<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qDwhRldR6k4/TlCA9tSbAWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/--zLjNHgrc8/s1600/Another%2Bfiesta%253B%2Bin%2BOllantaytambo%2B%2528August%2B15%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qDwhRldR6k4/TlCA9tSbAWI/AAAAAAAAAGI/--zLjNHgrc8/s320/Another%2Bfiesta%253B%2Bin%2BOllantaytambo%2B%2528August%2B15%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643152130712469858" /></a>
<br />Just another fiesta (in Ollantaytambo, August 15)
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<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-drtNXWrvJrM/TlCA9QLUGLI/AAAAAAAAAGA/7Xf4bMQvJmA/s1600/Ollantaytambo%2Bon%2BMonday%2Bmorning%252C%2BAugust%2B15.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-drtNXWrvJrM/TlCA9QLUGLI/AAAAAAAAAGA/7Xf4bMQvJmA/s320/Ollantaytambo%2Bon%2BMonday%2Bmorning%252C%2BAugust%2B15.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643152122898028722" /></a>
<br />Monday morning in Ollantaytambo (August 15)
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<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-psrcVvkmm74/TlCB10ePViI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/lYM0h0Oi2Wo/s1600/A%2Bbox%2Bof%2Bsuggestions%252C%2Bcompliments%2Band%2Bcomments%2Bthat%2BI%2Bcreated%2Bfor%2BCasa%2BMosqoy.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-psrcVvkmm74/TlCB10ePViI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/lYM0h0Oi2Wo/s320/A%2Bbox%2Bof%2Bsuggestions%252C%2Bcompliments%2Band%2Bcomments%2Bthat%2BI%2Bcreated%2Bfor%2BCasa%2BMosqoy.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643153094713759266" /></a>
<br />A box of suggestions, compliments and comments for Casa Mosqoy that I made on Tuesday morning
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zrSBrRfSp_E/TlCB2AS8s_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/ond47VqyRac/s1600/The%2Binvitations%2Bfor%2Bthe%2Bgrad%2Bceremony%2521.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zrSBrRfSp_E/TlCB2AS8s_I/AAAAAAAAAGY/ond47VqyRac/s320/The%2Binvitations%2Bfor%2Bthe%2Bgrad%2Bceremony%2521.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643153097887626226" /></a>
<br />The invitations for the Graduation and Induction Ceremony (quite happy with how these turned out)
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<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5h_6eUWxFh0/TlCB2LybHLI/AAAAAAAAAGg/54dXkVsWVJ8/s1600/Inside%2Bthe%2Binvitation.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5h_6eUWxFh0/TlCB2LybHLI/AAAAAAAAAGg/54dXkVsWVJ8/s320/Inside%2Bthe%2Binvitation.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643153100972432562" /></a>
<br />Inside the invitations
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<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8fAEzWL2F0/TlCEi-q2DRI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ZBYqYFZk0-k/s1600/Charades%2Bon%2BTuesday%2Bnight.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O8fAEzWL2F0/TlCEi-q2DRI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ZBYqYFZk0-k/s320/Charades%2Bon%2BTuesday%2Bnight.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643156069568351506" /></a>
<br />Charades on Tuesday night at Casa Mosqoy
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<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CBjghuErFN8/TlCDrTO3JXI/AAAAAAAAAGw/4sCV0kkZAeY/s1600/Me%252C%2BDina%252C%2BMariela%2Band%2BYolanda.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CBjghuErFN8/TlCDrTO3JXI/AAAAAAAAAGw/4sCV0kkZAeY/s320/Me%252C%2BDina%252C%2BMariela%2Band%2BYolanda.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643155113015453042" /></a>
<br />Me, Dina, Mariela and Yolanda during charades on Tuesday night
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<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2D5ud-ykgA/TlCDrVxqL5I/AAAAAAAAAGo/b3kSonfL4Hg/s1600/Adrian%252C%2BEbhert%252C%2BAlex%2Band%2BRolando%2BH..JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-d2D5ud-ykgA/TlCDrVxqL5I/AAAAAAAAAGo/b3kSonfL4Hg/s320/Adrian%252C%2BEbhert%252C%2BAlex%2Band%2BRolando%2BH..JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643155113698275218" /></a>
<br />Adrian, Ebhert, Alex and Rolando H. during charades on Tuesday night
<br />Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-63839331119997873932011-08-14T14:55:00.000-07:002011-08-18T08:40:09.537-07:00One Potato at a Time (posted by Kie)One potato at a time (or one step at a time) – I made up this motto this week as the past week has not only been a test of my potato eating skills (I still haven’t gotten used to the amount of potatoes people eat here), but a test of my patience. While I am generally a very patient person, my tolerance has been tested this week with people being late or not even showing up for various meetings (and for some reason not contacting me in order to notify me that they are running late or not going to be able to make it). However, I have decided to take all of this in stride and simply explain to those tardy individuals that one should contact me when they are running late or not able to attend a meeting or reunion.
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<br />Today some of the Mosqoy 4 students and I went on a teambuilding daytrip to Pumamarka as one of my objectives during my time here is to integrate the Mosqoy 4 students and make sure that they are all comfortable with each other before they make the move to Cuzco. All of the Mosqoy 4 students and I were supposed to meet in the Plaza of Ollantaytambo at 6:30 a.m. sharp (I reiterated this point to them yesterday although we had set up this meeting a long time ago) but only one student was in the Plaza at 6:30 a.m. After we waited for about half an hour in the cold, I decided to call one of the other students only to find out that she was in the middle of work. She told me that her and another student would arrive in approximately 15 minutes (which turned out to be more like 30 minutes) but I was glad that they came as it would have been rather pointless to go on a Mosqoy 4 Excursion with only one student since the point of the daytrip was to have the Mosqoy 4 students bond with each other (I also would not have known the way to Pumamarka). While two more students were supposed to come, we decided to leave for Pumamarka since we did not know where they were and they did not answer their cellphones.
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<br />The hike to Pumamarka was very picturesque as you get great views of the mountains and pass beautiful streams along the way. The three girls and I chatted about their work, families and communities as we hiked, and we also tried a few plants and berries along the way. As two of the girls currently work for PeruRail (a train company that runs trains from Ollantaytambo and Cuzco to Machu Picchu), I asked them what their work schedules were like and was quite taken aback when Karina told me that she works from 5 a.m. to 11 a.m. and then 5 p.m. to 11 p.m. (12 hours) and Rosmery works from 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. (12 hours) every day but only get paid 465 soles a month (approximately $170 U.S./month). I thought that it was quite unfair that they get paid so little when the cheapest PeruRail tickets from Ollantaytambo to Machu Picchu cost $35 U.S. (for an hour and half ride) and there are at least ten trains going every day. It was also interesting to find out that the company is actually Chilean-owned and therefore is not subject to the minimum-wage law that the new president of Peru just instituted as the law only applies to public companies (the law deems that minimum wage should be at least 675 soles a month for Peruvian public companies).
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<br />After hiking for approximately two and a half hours, we ran into Edison, one of the Mosqoy 4 students who we were supposed to meet in the Plaza at 6:30 a.m. in Pumamarka. Apparently he and another student, Marco, showed up at the Plaza at 7 a.m. but somehow we managed to miss each other. We hiked a little higher to find a place to rest and then brought out our snacks to share. While resting, we talked about travel, country life and how I was the only one in the group who had never owned any “cuys” (guinea pigs) or worked on a farm. After resting for a little while, we got up to walk around the ruins and take some photos and then decided to hike back towards Ollantaytambo.
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<br />Tomorrow I return to Cuzco and move into Casa Mosqoy to see how the students live on a daily basis. While the amenities will be very basic (I expect cold showers, no running water during certain times of the day and no heating), I look forward to my new experience and to delve even deeper into my volunteer work!
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<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ACOgohEuV4/TkhGt8RzTXI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ErzkTwRolpE/s1600/DSC_0071.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_ACOgohEuV4/TkhGt8RzTXI/AAAAAAAAAFg/ErzkTwRolpE/s320/DSC_0071.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640836288370396530" /></a>
<br />Pumamarka ruins
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<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-amOe8bUnXeY/TkhHx6scqLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ds6ggSTXfpU/s1600/DSC_0068.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-amOe8bUnXeY/TkhHx6scqLI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ds6ggSTXfpU/s320/DSC_0068.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640837456176392370" /></a>
<br />The Mosqoy 4 students
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<br />Rolando's family (taken during my house visit yesterday) - The point of the house visits is to see and document how the students and their families live for Mosqoy and the students' sponsors. Rolando is only 18 but his oldest brother is 45. In this photo, you can also see his adopted sister who is 6 years old.
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<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M4I-ouYavFQ/TkhMLB-3AUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rK98vrLUZj0/s1600/DSC_0007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M4I-ouYavFQ/TkhMLB-3AUI/AAAAAAAAAF4/rK98vrLUZj0/s320/DSC_0007.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640842285675905346" /></a>
<br />Nohemi with her family (taken during my house visit on Friday)
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<br />Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-90817246784978059662011-08-13T09:54:00.000-07:002011-08-13T10:41:29.294-07:00Beat, But Not Beaten (posted by Lindsay)For me, travel has always been the true test of adaptability. Travel brings many challenges – both mental and physical – testing your ability to absorb the unanticipated and to rebound from the negative. This week has brought for me a test of resilience and endurance.
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<br />On Wednesday evening (August 6), I found myself at <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span> conducting interviews with the Peru Leaders. Half-way through the first interview, my head began to feel heavy. Minutes passed, and the heaviness turned to dizziness. My eyesight began to blur and I could feel the room spinning. I backed slowly against the wall, knowing that I would fall faint to the floor without support. I crouched on the floor, trying to regain control, wobbling the camera as I attempted to continue filming.
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<br />As we walked back from <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span>, I could feel my stomach turning. I sat down at the table, and ate dinner – a decision I would later regret. The upset in my stomach was worsening. “I feel horrible – I don’t know why, but I feel horrible,” I muttered to Kie, looking for some sort of explanation. Of course, I knew, she could not elucidate the situation and knew, from past experience, finding the cause of upset would be near impossible. I turned in for the night, hoping that I would wake the next day feeling better, particularly since I was set to leave for a five-day hiking trip into the remote weaving communities of Parobamba, Bombón, and Pitukiska.
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<br />I woke the next morning at 9:00am, exhausted from a long night of coughing. “How do you feel?” Kie asked. “Not good,” I groaned, “not good at all.” “I can’t make the trip out to Parobamba, Bombón and Pitukiska,” I muttered as my head dropped back to my pillow. I woke again at 5:00pm and wandered downstairs. I was greeted by Tula (my Peruvian mother). “You don’t look very good…I want you to go to the clinic,” she said in a concerning voice. I shook my head to communicate that I would not be going to the clinic. “You were up all night coughing,” she said, putting her hand to my forehead, “you really need to go to the clinic.” Tears came streaming down my face. “I will be fine,” I choked, not really even believing my own words. And, for the first time in two months, I found myself homesick. “Weak in body, weak in mind,” I reminded myself and crawled back into bed.
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<br />I awoke the next morning feeling as horrible as the day before. I sunk my head back into my pillow and declared another bed day. It was not until Saturday that I felt well enough to leave the house. I laced my running shoes and convinced myself to leave the house, even if just for a few minutes. Not knowing where else to go, I walked to the nearest internet café. Almost immediately, I felt faint and short of breath under the penetrating rays of sunshine.
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Urcos</span>
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<br />Sunday I awoke with strength and determination to leave my bed. I set off for Urcos, a small town an hour outside of Cuzco. I didn’t know much of anything about Urcos, only that I had seen the town featured on a postcard in Cuzco once. Though, I was not bothered, as my only objective for the day was to leave the house. I took a seat beside an older gentleman on the <span style="font-style:italic;">combi</span>. “Where are you from?” he asked politely. “Canada,” I said, smiling. We struck up a conversation that lasted until we reached the perimeter of Urcos. “Welcome to Urcos” he said to me as we passed by a big blue lagoon. “It’s lovely here,” I said, wondering how I would spend my day.
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<br />Captivated by the deep shades of blue in the lagoon, I decided that the lagoon would be my first stop. I spent a good couple of hours walking the perimeter of the lake, stopping to take in the sights of wild pigs, sheep and children playing by the lagoon-front. I was greeted by many locals from Urcos, who were also spending a leisurely Sunday by the lagoon.
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<br />I followed the road back into the town centre, where I would join hundreds of locals shopping for a bargain in the traditional Sunday markets. I was taken by the sheer breadth of the markets – dozens of vendors set-up shop, selling everything from fruits and vegetables to undergarments and chickens. I spent the afternoon examining the offerings of each vendor, before settling on purchasing 4 mandarin oranges and a small package of laundry detergent for 1 sol. The vendor looked at my once-white runners and my pants which have been covered in thick film of dust since June, and handed me another package. I laughed, assuring the vendor that one would be enough.
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<br />I hopped on a <span style="font-style:italic;">combi</span> in the direction of Cuzco, stopping briefly in two small towns on the outskirts of Urcos – Huaro and Andahuaylillas. I also passed through Oropesa, a town that is known to locals for its giant rounds of bread.
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<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Cuzco</span>
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<br />On Monday morning, Kie and I left the house in search of a birthday cake for Elvira (one of the Peru Leaders) who had celebrated her 22nd birthday on Sunday. We walked from shop to shop, struggling to decide on a flavour, size or price. After some time, we stumbled across a small bakery and found a cake that was to both of our liking. We returned to the house and in the afternoon, Kie and I met Ebhert (another Peru Leader) and set off for central Cuzco to purchase some well-needed items for <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span>. After much deliberation, we settled on buying a stainless steel kettle, a large 2-litre thermos and a whiteboard for the house. I was content with our purchases, feeling confident that the students of <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span> would put these items to good use. In the evening, Kie and I attended an English class taught by a new <span style="font-style:italic;">Mosqoy</span> volunteer (Lisa), who became interested in the organization when she was on tour with the travel company that one of the Peru Leaders works for. She taught basic vocabulary and phrases to the students, but made a few crucial spelling errors which made the students burst out into laughter. I joked to Lisa that I would be holding an English class the next evening if she were interested in attending.
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<br />As 7:00pm rolled around, we gathered in the common area of <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span> and I signalled for Ebhert to retrieve Elvira so that we could get her surprise birthday party underway. We waited in the dark for what seemed like ten minutes, before Elvira and Ebhert walked through the door. “Surprise!” we yelled, breaking out into song. For the remainder of the evening, we talked, listed to music and danced. Just before 8:30pm, we called it a night and headed back to our homestay, a mere 15 minute walk from <span style="font-style:italic;">Casa Mosqoy</span>.
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<br />As quickly as I began to feel better, I became ill again. On Tuesday night (August 10), I developed symptoms classic of an ingested bacteria and/or parasite. Feeling much worse than I had the week prior, I have been confined to my bed for the entirety of the week. “Beat, but not beaten...” I grumbled to myself, wondering what else was in store for my vulnerable immune system.
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<br />It is my hope that I mend fast and am able to enjoy the remainder of what little time I have left in Peru. I am eager to rejoin the weaving communities and complete all outstanding activities, particularly since this week (August 9) marks the United Nations' <span style="font-style:italic;">International Day of the World’s Indigenous People</span>, a day that highlights the need for preservation and revitalization of indigenous cultures, including indigenous arts, crafts and intellectual property.
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<br />Note: Because I have little to document in the way of photos this week, I am attaching several photos from a Cuzco festival attended back in July, as well as photos from Urcos.
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<br />Lindsay
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<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq825WpPFA8/TkawZdMupmI/AAAAAAAAAGo/LEsYiio5RP0/s1600/P1140208.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sq825WpPFA8/TkawZdMupmI/AAAAAAAAAGo/LEsYiio5RP0/s400/P1140208.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640389534709360226" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-81942317088930239492011-08-04T10:23:00.000-07:002011-08-04T11:03:10.690-07:00Photos from the Past Few Days (posted by Kie)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95SWp5Q8P34/TjrXhli4_iI/AAAAAAAAAFI/jT7d_QEtF1I/s1600/DSC_0523.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-95SWp5Q8P34/TjrXhli4_iI/AAAAAAAAAFI/jT7d_QEtF1I/s320/DSC_0523.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637054855621705250" /></a><br /><br />Luzmila and Eurelesis during the teambuilding session I hosted for Mosqoy 4 on Monday<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3AJBXFqA6l0/TjrXhUvoYII/AAAAAAAAAFA/iuBmLjOIoFA/s1600/DSC_0502.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3AJBXFqA6l0/TjrXhUvoYII/AAAAAAAAAFA/iuBmLjOIoFA/s320/DSC_0502.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637054851111739522" /></a><br /><br />Nelson & Ruben, kids of my host family in Ollantaytambo<br /> <br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRDKQeAQWzM/TjrXhDiLYQI/AAAAAAAAAE4/n1-R6a3DYc0/s1600/DSC_0500.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kRDKQeAQWzM/TjrXhDiLYQI/AAAAAAAAAE4/n1-R6a3DYc0/s320/DSC_0500.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637054846491910402" /></a><br /><br />Nelson<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jTNjaVNQURc/TjrYYoxHvRI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8ZBdtUUDaw4/s1600/DSC_0536.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jTNjaVNQURc/TjrYYoxHvRI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8ZBdtUUDaw4/s320/DSC_0536.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637055801379503378" /></a><br /><br />Rolando, Elvira & Ebhert during our leadership session on Monday night<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XriZC5itanI/TjrYYVgJ1DI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Jj1SNWKEVPQ/s1600/DSC_0531.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XriZC5itanI/TjrYYVgJ1DI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Jj1SNWKEVPQ/s320/DSC_0531.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637055796208063538" /></a><br /><br />Mosqoy 4Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-13268759882018542062011-08-03T09:44:00.000-07:002011-08-03T11:22:51.471-07:00Family Visits, Leadership Training and a Kiss on the Cheek (posted by Kie)<STRONG>The Family Visits</STRONG> <br /><br />On Saturday, Rolando, his nephew Rollie, and I went to visit the families of Sandra, Robinson, Nohemi, Elizabeth and Mariela in the Ollantaytambo area. It was interesting being able to see where the students live and also to converse with the students’ families. Some observations of the visits include: a) Many of them share one room for the whole family; b) they all have animals/pets including dogs, cats, bulls (Sandra’s father named one of his bulls “El Doctor” (The Doctor) and the other “El Inginiero” (The Engineer) which I found quite amusing), ducks, guinea pigs (there were 20-30 guinea pigs in some of the kitchens), hens and chickens; and c) most of the family members work in agriculture. <br /><br />I also indulged in two lunches and a half (by accident). The mother of one of the students offered me a meat and potato skewer on the street when we were on our way to visit Elizabeth at the restaurant where she works and then when Rolando, Rollie and I dropped by the restaurant where Elizabeth works, she served us “pollo a la milaneza”(fried chicken patty on a bed of rice with some freshly sliced tomatoes). After eating pollo a la milaneza, we went to visit Mariela at her house (about a 15-minute combi ride outside of Ollantaytambo) and she served us with huge plates of trucha (trout), beets and potatoes with cheese. I was delighted to discover that Mariela (who studies gastronomy) cooked the meal for us and the trout was delicious, but it was a struggle to finish the second half of the plate (ie. the 4 potatoes) since only half an hour had passed since the first lunch. Mariela’s family was really welcoming and Rolando, Rollie and I enjoyed conversing with them. After our meal, Mariela gave us a tour of her house and her and her family gave thanks to Mosqoy and Mariela’s sponsors via video. <br /><br /><STRONG>Teambuilding & Leadership</STRONG> <br /><br />Sunday and Monday involved teambuilding sessions with the potential incoming students. At the beginning of Sunday’s session, I asked the students to give brief introductions of themselves and in their introductions to include which country they would most like to visit (I received a whole range of answers to this question including Italy, France, the U.S., Mexico and Canada). After the introductions we played “2 Truths and a Lie”, “Who am I?”, a game involving emotions of the face, and trivia. The aim of the ice breakers was to get the students to loosen up and work in teams. We also discussed the community event (a soccer and volleyball tournament) they are supposed to organize (to exercise event planning) and the Mosqoy 4 daytrip (a hike to Choquebamba). These teambuilding sessions are really important since the students will be relying a lot on each other when they move to Cuzco, away from their families, communities and small-town life. <br /><br />On Monday night I rushed backed to Cuzco to hold a leadership session with the Mosqoy leaders, Rolando, Ebhert, Adrian and Elvira. The meeting started off with two short impromptu speeches per leader to practice public speaking, after which the leaders completed evaluations of each other and discussed why it is important to be able to speak publicly with confidence. The leaders expressed that being able to speak publicly with confidence is an important skill to have in order to be able to lead others, explain things clearly and inspire interest. Furthermore, as a project, I asked them to prepare a 5-minute speech on a topic of their choice. While the leaders are all naturally quite gifted public speakers, I think it will help them to receive constructive criticism on what they can improve because there is always something you can work on. <br /><br />After the speeches, I asked the leaders to discuss a person that they admire for their leadership qualities. It turned out to be an interesting discussion as one of the leaders decided to choose ex-president Alan Garcia who not all of the leaders agreed is a good leader. At the same time, I think the leaders realized that those considered “leaders” are human too and therefore not necessarily perfect. The leaders also discussed and debated the phrasing of the question they had to answer since I had asked “Who do you admire for their leadership qualities?”, not “Who do you think is a good leader?” (ie. a leader does not have to be a president, religious figure or someone famous). Rolando ended up choosing to talk about Gregorio, the president of the Amaru weaving community, because he is very welcoming, a good speaker and always tries to look out for others. <br /><br />After this discussion, we moved onto brainstorming and writing down good leadership qualities on a poster. I thought that this would take 15 minutes at most but the leaders were quite careful about choosing what to write down and almost every point was discussed for at least two-three minutes before the leaders decided whether or not to write it down. <br /><br />Lastly, I got the leaders to discuss their best and worst leadership qualities which led to a discussion about the group in general and the dynamics within the group. Not everything voiced was positive but I think that conflicts can be a good thing because it forces people to challenge one another and work through their problems. If people within a team are too similar, it might make for an easy work environment but I don’t think that the members of the group would learn much. Conflict often incites compelling discussion. As long as all of the members of the team are willing to try to work through them and respect each other, I think that having different personalities and opinions within a team can be a good thing.<br /><br />The leadership session on Monday night ended up taking 3 hours, but I think it was a very fruitful discussion and I hope that the leaders got something out of it! <br /><br /><STRONG>Idiom of the week that Sandra’s father taught me</STRONG>: “Tiene que ser como una mosca” (You have to be [fast] like a fly) <br /><br /><STRONG>Cultural Realization of the week</STRONG>: I think I have finally got used to the Latin American custom of getting kissed on the cheek when greeting someone. <br /><br />Signing out, <br />Kie <br /><br /><A href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AA8nRxQMjs/Tjl9JSdfGsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/QFG6t3c80Lc/s1600/SANY0005.JPG"><IMG style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636674007158692546 border=0 alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AA8nRxQMjs/Tjl9JSdfGsI/AAAAAAAAAEo/QFG6t3c80Lc/s320/SANY0005.JPG"></A> At Sandra's house <br /><br /><A href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0nvNdTOZk5k/Tjl97wcF-aI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Qn63XCCZ-mw/s1600/P1120685.JPG"><IMG style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5636674874199374242 border=0 alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0nvNdTOZk5k/Tjl97wcF-aI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Qn63XCCZ-mw/s320/P1120685.JPG"></A> Three Mosqoy 4 girlsKiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-35501217179987724342011-08-01T08:54:00.000-07:002011-08-01T10:05:19.380-07:00These Boots Were Made For Walking (posted by Lindsay)I have spent these last few days hiking in and out of weaving communities in the Sacred Valley region of Peru. Communities visited include, Amaru, Huaran, Calca and Cancha Cancha.<br /><br /><strong>Amaru</strong><br /><br />Amaru is a picturesque community nestled in the mountain ranges above Pisac. The community boasts charming landscape, a communal garden and a small, but welcoming population. On arrival, we were served bread and <em>mate de coca</em> (coca tea), and sat down with Gregorio (the President of the weaving association) and several weavers to discuss possible volunteer-service projects. As afternoon dawned on us, we began to descend the mountain, first visiting the residence of a local carpenter. With profit earned through the sale of textiles in Canada, the community of Amaru was awarded funds to put towards a community project of their choosing. The President, together with the weavers, chose to have a carpenter handcraft a kitchen cabinet and, and also purchased several sets of dishes for all members of the community to use. After settling an advance payment with the carpenter, we continued our descent to Pisac. We parted ways in Pisac, as I hopped on a <em>combi</em> for yet another community.<br /><br /><strong>Huaran and Calca</strong><br /><br />I arrived in Huaran mid-afternoon. I had heard not great things about the town of Huaran – namely, that it was small, boring and existed more mosquitos than you could swat at. If you judge Huaran by the roadside, this is certainly nothing short of true; however, if you venture deeper into the heart of the community, Huaran has much to offer to the curious tourist. I walked 20 minutes up the road to the overgrown residence of my homestay family. I called out. No-one answered. I called out again. Still, no answer. I took a seat on the concrete steps and wondered about the possibility of sleeping outside should nobody show. Just then, 5 dogs with wagging tails came running at me full-force. “Somebody has to return to feed the dogs,” I thought to myself. As I was waiting for someone to return to the home anyway, I decided to explore Huaran on foot. I set back down the trail until I stumbled upon a small roadside shack selling water, laundry detergent, and tomatoes (among other things). I examined the vegetables carefully, looking for defects and possible triggers for an upset stomach. I was so meticulous in my examination that I had failed to notice a small crowd of children gathering in the doorway, watching curiously my every move. I looked up and said hello. They all giggled and said hello back. I smiled to myself, knowing that Huaran does not see foreigners often, if at all.<br /><br />I returned to the home and was greeted by Magdalena, a friend of the family, who lives at the residence. She showed me around the house and told me to make as I would at home. We sat down for afternoon tea with Luzmila, a potential Mosqoy 4 student, and who also lives at the residence. Knowing that I would be working with the weaving communities, the two were eager to teach me a few useful phrases/words in Quechua. Having survived a two -hour intensive lesson, I was rewarded with my own Quechua name: “Munaycha.”<br /><br />The next day, I headed back down the trail towards the road, where I was to meet with Sonia, the President of the Huaran weaving association and several weavers. I was greeted by Sonia in front of her home. We sat in the sun and waited for the other weavers to arrive. Half an hour passed, and only few filtered in. Sonia reminded me that it was the Day of Independence in Peru (and the same day that the new President of Peru would take the reins), so many of the weavers were in Calca or Cuzco celebrating. I nodded in understanding and we proceeded with the textile exchange. As I gathered my belongings, I assured Sonia that I would return in August to further discuss the volunteer-service projects. With the afternoon now free, I took my time walking around Huaran. I stopped in a roadside store to exchange pleasantries and asked about the prospect of internet in Huaran. The shop-owner looked at me as if I had spoken of the devil. “Internet?” she asked. “Not here, not in Huaran,” she responded shaking her head. Disgruntled, I returned to the house late afternoon and sat down with Luzmila and Magdalena over hot tea and bread – now, our nightly ritual. I absorbed more Quechua teachings before calling it an early night.<br /><br />The next morning I woke up feeling adventurous. Early morning, I left the house with the intentions of scrambling up the mountain overlooking Huaran. Just as I thought I was going alone, the 5 dogs (one not even two-months old) came running up behind, eager to join me on the trail. I laughed to myself thinking this was a scene out of “Little House on the Prairie.” The bigger dogs forged ahead, leaving the young puppy behind. I walked alongside the puppy (“Negra”) and helped her up some of the steeper slopes of the mountain. As we neared the peak, the dogs ran off, leaving me tranquil. I found a rock to sit on and took in the spectacular views of Huaran and nearby valleys. As I began to descend, I realized that I had lost both the dogs and my trail back. I examined the mountainside, wondering which cliff I had ascended earlier. I whistled several times for the dogs to return, waiting only a few minutes before descending on my own (eventually I found my way and the dogs).<br /><br />I made my way back to the house and entered the kitchen. I was greeted by even more members of the family – Naywa, her father and her brother. We sat down over morning tea and bread and exchanged introductions. Naywa’s father (an archeologist) and her brother (an electrical engineer) were bickering over the correct method to carry out conservation projects. I laughed to myself thinking that engineers are of the same breed, no matter the country (sorry, dad). They asked what my plans were for the day, and I told them that I was expected to meet with the Calca Warmi – a weaving association in Calca. “It’s an easy <em>combi</em> ride,” they explained. “No, I think I will walk,” I said. And so I did – just before noon, I set off in the direction of Calca. It was a long 2.5 hour walk along the roadside and the sun was in full force. In fact, it was so hot that sweat began forming from my hands.<br /><br />I met Antonieta, the President of the Calca weaving association, at the Calca bus terminal. “You must be tired from the walk,” she said, as we walked to her home. “A little bit,” I said. She sat me down in the living room and ran into the kitchen. She returned with a tall glass of purple liquid. “Drink this,” she said handing me the glass, “it’s <em>maiz</em>.” I gulped and tried to think of something I hated more than beverages made of purple corn (common in Peru). I graciously accepted, wondering how I would consume her offering without making a face. “Delicious,” I said, taking my first sip. As the weavers filtered in, Antonieta brought out the textiles for me to examine. “They are beautiful,” I said, running my fingers over the tight knit weave. I asked her about project needs in Calca as she labelled each textile piece. Antonieta and the weavers suggested cooking classes, painting/sewing classes and expressed interest in daytrips/excursions to nearby ruins and points of interest. I made quick note in my agenda and began to gather my belongings. “Finish your <em>maiz</em>,” she said, “you will feel better.” And in one big swig it was gone. As our meeting concluded, Antonieta held up two pairs of wrist-warmers. “Which pair do you like best?” she asked. “Both,” I said, not wanting to offend. “They are yours,” she said, “a gift to remember me by.” I thanked her and she walked me to the bus terminal where I would pick up a <em>combi</em> in the direction of Huaran. As we waited, I let out a shiver from the cold. Antonieta pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my arms (almost mother like) and demanded that I dress more warmly the next time I come. I assured her I would as I boarded the <em>combi</em> for Huaran.<br /><br /><strong>Cancha Cancha</strong><br /><br />I was not quite sure what to expect of Cancha Cancha when my alarm sounded at 5:00am on Friday morning; in fact, I was one of many who could not place Cancha Cancha on a map. “The trail is easy,” insisted the Peru leaders.<br /><br />After a hearty breakfast of yogurt and bread, Naywa, Magdalena, Luzmila (both natives of Cancha Cancha) and I left the house at 7:00am (an hour later than agreed upon). We ascended. We ascended more. We ascended for a total of 4 hours – a trail I would hesitate to call “easy.” I am learning not to trust what the Peru leaders say about the hiking conditions. The trail to Cancha Cancha is best described as a straight uphill climb, rocky and unmaintained. Notably, sections of the trail were flooded by water running down the mountainside. However, the trail was worth every step uphill. As snow-capped mountains appeared in the distance, I could tell that I would be taken with Cancha Cancha. I stood in amazement as I passed by llamas and alpacas grazing by the river banks. “This is the real Peru,” I thought to myself, “rugged and unmaintained.”<br /> <br />We arrived in Cancha Cancha just after 11:00am and were welcomed into the home of Luzmila’s sister. Her children shyly poked their heads around the corner and said hello. Luzmila’s sister, also a weaver, served us pasta and potatoes. Given my recent experience with potatoes, I kindly refused and explained how the potatoes in Q’enqo left me feeling all but well. She nodded her head in a sympathetic manner and served me pasta with canned tuna and a hot cup of <em>mate de coca</em>. As we ate and drank, I heard strange noises coming from the dark corners of the home. Before questions formed in my head, between 20 and 30 guinea pigs ran out from under the bed. “Only in Peru,” I thought to myself, “only in Peru…”<br /><br />After eating, I excused myself to visit the washroom. I walked across the hill to the elementary school, where only basic facilities existed. I took my time walking back to the house, stopping to take photos of the mountainside community. I was struck by the natural beauty of Cancha Cancha – a small village populated by no more than 20 mud huts. Amenities in Cancha Cancha are non-existent – the closest store could be reached by a 7-hour return hike to Huaran (although, most, I am told, go to Calca). I met a young boy playing in the grass with his soccer ball. He was fascinated with the camera I had hanging around my neck and asked me to take photos of him throwing his ball into the air. I had never before seen a child so excited to examine his own image on the screen of my camera.<br /><br />I made my way back to the house, and as the other weavers joined, our meeting began. I reminded the weavers of the projects decided on at a previous meeting held in April – rebuilding houses devastated by the 2008 floods and trail maintenance – and asked if there were further projects to add. The weavers nodded their heads, but seemed more interested in attempting to pronounce my name. “Lindsay,” I said. “What is your last name?” they asked in unison. “Zibrik,” I said. I chuckled knowing that the ensuing pronunciation would be nothing short of a disaster. As expected, not one weaver came close, but they, nevertheless, complimented me on my name. “It’s a beautiful name,” they said, each nodding their head in agreement. “Thank you,” I muttered, not knowing what else to say.<br /><br />As our meeting came to a close, I broached the topic of setting our next meeting. We spent no less than 30 minutes agreeing on the time of our next meeting. Number after number was thrown around as a potential meeting time. Just as my thoughts started to trail, I heard “2 soles.” “Sorry?” I asked. “If we are not there by 9:00am, we will each pay you 2 soles,” they explained. I laughed, warning that I would hold them to their words.<br /><br />Naywa and I began our descent from Cancha Cancha just after 2:00pm. [Luzmila and Magdalena stayed behind, choosing to spend the evening with their families]. Descending the mountain took almost as long as ascending – roughly 3 hours. Mid-way, we were stopped along the trail by several Cancha Cancha locals. They asked for money to continue their work along the trail. I respectfully declined (explaining that I was a volunteer in Peru) and urged Naywa to push on, as every minute at rest on the trail meant 5 more mosquito bites on my (vulnerable) legs.<br /><br />We arrived back at the house at 5:00pm. We both slumped back in our chairs at the kitchen table and let out long-overdue sighs of exhaustion, resulting from a long day of hiking. I could feel the sore throat that I had woken up to worsening. I pushed my chair in and said my goodnights, knowing that a full night’s rest would recharge me for more difficult days to come.<br /><br />Lindsay<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XI8cFc0e2fI/TjbU2fCxUhI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/6O4HEeWMSek/s1600/P1130042.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XI8cFc0e2fI/TjbU2fCxUhI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/6O4HEeWMSek/s400/P1130042.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635926016211898898" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUCPJzrutKU/TjbUhfgHCoI/AAAAAAAAAGI/zYyNRHU_oIU/s1600/P1130073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUCPJzrutKU/TjbUhfgHCoI/AAAAAAAAAGI/zYyNRHU_oIU/s400/P1130073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635925655557704322" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SWM8fVJZE7Q/TjbUI1JxMiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/zMnSty5DdM0/s1600/P1130400.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SWM8fVJZE7Q/TjbUI1JxMiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/zMnSty5DdM0/s400/P1130400.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635925231872848418" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i3ERoZdU6kg/TjbTufEEwVI/AAAAAAAAAF4/mi2H3CwdcAk/s1600/P1130404.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-i3ERoZdU6kg/TjbTufEEwVI/AAAAAAAAAF4/mi2H3CwdcAk/s400/P1130404.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635924779266785618" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1tj4MJoJms/TjbTQpQbPaI/AAAAAAAAAFw/EgXFJ-ZLdSE/s1600/P1130607.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G1tj4MJoJms/TjbTQpQbPaI/AAAAAAAAAFw/EgXFJ-ZLdSE/s400/P1130607.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635924266606869922" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xmDR6jSUU30/TjbSsULmDQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/x4HIkVCxD_M/s1600/P1130721.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xmDR6jSUU30/TjbSsULmDQI/AAAAAAAAAFo/x4HIkVCxD_M/s400/P1130721.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635923642474171650" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-INMIDfCvwa0/TjbSQdvM7lI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tszlIxCI5SU/s1600/P1130755.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-INMIDfCvwa0/TjbSQdvM7lI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tszlIxCI5SU/s400/P1130755.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635923164003102290" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NrE4bprFz6M/TjbR1g9fSYI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VMx71rlVE_c/s1600/P1130759.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NrE4bprFz6M/TjbR1g9fSYI/AAAAAAAAAFY/VMx71rlVE_c/s400/P1130759.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635922701011863938" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQQJnBlci90/TjbRbYqcgjI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yeRni6Xn_E0/s1600/P1130788.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MQQJnBlci90/TjbRbYqcgjI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/yeRni6Xn_E0/s400/P1130788.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635922252107907634" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wGUGiduxXf4/TjbQ5MGfyYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a0P0nnH1UBs/s1600/P1130800.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wGUGiduxXf4/TjbQ5MGfyYI/AAAAAAAAAFI/a0P0nnH1UBs/s400/P1130800.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635921664620349826" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KANVADrVqJ8/TjbXvkCNQ6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/kTIsemc3NnE/s1600/P1130826.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KANVADrVqJ8/TjbXvkCNQ6I/AAAAAAAAAGg/kTIsemc3NnE/s400/P1130826.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635929195827512226" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uQV_t5G_jY/TjbWwYgaGDI/AAAAAAAAAGY/LIJsrVj9v98/s1600/P1130838.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1uQV_t5G_jY/TjbWwYgaGDI/AAAAAAAAAGY/LIJsrVj9v98/s400/P1130838.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635928110401198130" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q8a5kjckyNM/TjbQc5SZHRI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bP534X8vwcM/s1600/P1130839.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q8a5kjckyNM/TjbQc5SZHRI/AAAAAAAAAFA/bP534X8vwcM/s400/P1130839.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635921178533633298" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n8n3-yk-uZA/TjbP7j1UxyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/kxN4PiQ1Voc/s1600/P1130869.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-n8n3-yk-uZA/TjbP7j1UxyI/AAAAAAAAAE4/kxN4PiQ1Voc/s400/P1130869.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635920605838886690" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GdukkgfXRHk/TjbPXMkAL7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/iw4WENKgRM4/s1600/P1130893.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GdukkgfXRHk/TjbPXMkAL7I/AAAAAAAAAEw/iw4WENKgRM4/s400/P1130893.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635919981116927922" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jwZ_VLVMiRE/TjbO14ktDFI/AAAAAAAAAEo/g9W3v7YvqaM/s1600/P1130907.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jwZ_VLVMiRE/TjbO14ktDFI/AAAAAAAAAEo/g9W3v7YvqaM/s400/P1130907.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635919408815475794" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-85482921129811354392011-07-29T17:00:00.000-07:002011-07-29T17:32:23.023-07:00The Past Few Days (posted by Kie)The past few days have been filled with Casa Mosqoy meetings, more video interviews with the prospective Mosqoy 4 students, and me working on leadership and teambuilding documents for the Mosqoy leaders as well as the potential incoming students. Writing and translating into Spanish when you’ve only been studying the language intensively for a month is not easy, but it’s good as it forces me to expand my vocabulary and improve my grammar. <br /><br />In addition to the above, on Tuesday, Lindsay and I went to the weaving community of Amaru (about a 30-minute drive out of the popular market town, Pisac) with Ebhert, one of the Mosqoy leaders, to buy textiles and converse with the weavers and their President, Gregorio, about what kind of support they would like from the Mosqoy students. As Lindsay mentioned in her last blog post, one of Mosqoy’s goals is to implement a volunteer service program wherein the Mosqoy students give back to weaving communities in the Sacred Valley Region. I think that this initiative is quite important since the students receive scholarships from all around the world due to people’s generosity and this is a way for the students to give back. While the students may not have money to give to the weaving communities, they certainly acquire skills during their post-secondary education that could be really helpful to the communities. <br /><br />Gregorio conversed with the weavers in Quechua and the weavers articulated that they would appreciate English classes, cooking classes, interior design support, help in the communal garden, and support with creating a brochure about Amaru(including a route on how to get there) so that the community can become more tourist-friendly. <br /><br />It was interesting to see the differences between Amaru and Q’enqo. Amaru seemed quite a bit more developed: for example, they had a nice common area, a weaving centre and a beautiful communal garden. I don’t know if it’s because of its proximity to Pisac where perhaps the weavers can sell their goods more easily than the weavers of Q’enqo. Furthermore, the community of Amaru has taken some concrete steps to improve their situation: Gregorio has been working on setting up a small hostel and showed Lindsay and I a nice dorm-room which is almost ready for tourists. <br /><br />I’m off to Ollantaytambo tomorrow to visit some students’ families and to conduct a couple of teambuilding/leadership sessions with the potential next generation of Mosqoy students. Today marks one more month of volunteer-work which is quite scary to think about as I feel like I still have so much left to do! <br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zva9tVLZu8k/TjNMXEVnJMI/AAAAAAAAADg/DYzQJEbaJac/s1600/DSC_0332.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zva9tVLZu8k/TjNMXEVnJMI/AAAAAAAAADg/DYzQJEbaJac/s320/DSC_0332.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931517955712194" /></a><br /><br />An offering of tea and bread in Amaru.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nP60VX_C0bU/TjNMX6Go35I/AAAAAAAAADw/lz3SV1dj2-M/s1600/DSC_0353.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nP60VX_C0bU/TjNMX6Go35I/AAAAAAAAADw/lz3SV1dj2-M/s320/DSC_0353.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931532388425618" /></a><br /><br />Grenadilla-type fruit.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z0rQoVs15Y/TjNMXkAbk1I/AAAAAAAAADo/WjrGs7WNm6o/s1600/DSC_0338.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9Z0rQoVs15Y/TjNMXkAbk1I/AAAAAAAAADo/WjrGs7WNm6o/s320/DSC_0338.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634931526456808274" /></a><br /><br />Corn/mais.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NXn9isdUyCg/TjNNdmZ5xiI/AAAAAAAAAEI/g6jZBz4DSAo/s1600/DSC_0368.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NXn9isdUyCg/TjNNdmZ5xiI/AAAAAAAAAEI/g6jZBz4DSAo/s320/DSC_0368.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932729691358754" /></a><br /><br />Gregorio showing Lindsay and I the room he set up for tourists.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rs1I57ft6IE/TjNNdKni6qI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gwHSAdrppL4/s1600/DSC_0360.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Rs1I57ft6IE/TjNNdKni6qI/AAAAAAAAAEA/gwHSAdrppL4/s320/DSC_0360.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932722232388258" /></a><br /><br />The weavers.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCOimzUwrtw/TjNNcwx2qsI/AAAAAAAAAD4/OjL_LjTzHVs/s1600/DSC_0357.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCOimzUwrtw/TjNNcwx2qsI/AAAAAAAAAD4/OjL_LjTzHVs/s320/DSC_0357.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634932715296303810" /></a><br /><br />Weavings.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5lDw09Sbpgs/TjNPfZbcBxI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/4KCzJPYApWk/s1600/DSC_0378.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5lDw09Sbpgs/TjNPfZbcBxI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/4KCzJPYApWk/s320/DSC_0378.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634934959591130898" /></a><br /><br />Lindsay & I with the Amaru weavers.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PdUQbt2NwHI/TjNPgY9y4uI/AAAAAAAAAEg/dQ53Y7Dk1aY/s1600/DSC_0486.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PdUQbt2NwHI/TjNPgY9y4uI/AAAAAAAAAEg/dQ53Y7Dk1aY/s320/DSC_0486.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634934976646669026" /></a><br /><br />Adrian, Elvira and I had a couple of visitors at our Wednesday night meeting. <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--5lElR8yvO0/TjNPf_KKiaI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Vm1RNZUYAhg/s1600/DSC_0483.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--5lElR8yvO0/TjNPf_KKiaI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Vm1RNZUYAhg/s320/DSC_0483.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634934969719228834" /></a>Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-69029270953468325222011-07-25T11:43:00.000-07:002011-07-25T12:52:12.307-07:00The Road Less Traveled (posted by Lindsay)I would not hesitate to characterize Peru as a tourist haven, so I have been particularly eager to venture off the beaten path and explore parts of Peru untouched by tourists. Yesterday, I accomplished just that.<br /><br />At 5:00am, Kie and I struggled out of bed ready to start our day. At the breakfast table, we heard screams coming from outside: “por favor, por favor, por favor!” As we went to investigate, we saw a man on the street kneeling in a prayer-like position (we think he was heavily intoxicated). Our homestay family awoke and called the police. They arrived 10 minutes later and gave resolution to the situation.<br /><br />As we got ready to leave the house, our homestay family in Cuzco (we jokingly refer to them as our Peruvian parents) expressed worry, as a parent would, about leaving the house before dawn. We assured Tula (our Peruvian mother) that we would be fine and she should not worry. We walked up the street to the bridge – our meeting point with the Peru Leaders (individuals tasked with supervising the Mosqoy students in <em>Casa Mosqoy</em>). 5:30am came and went (our agreed meeting time). We waited. And waited. And waited some more. Just as we were about to hop on a <em>combi</em> and attempt to find our own way to Q’enqo (an off-map community), the Peru Leaders arrived at 5:55am. I pointed to my watch as if it would mean something to them, but I am thoroughly confident that my point was not received.<br /><br />The four of us (Kie, myself, and two Peru Leaders – Adrian and Elvira) jumped into a taxi headed for the bus/<em>combi</em> terminal (<em>read: open-space with 3-4 idling buses</em>). We boarded a <em>combi</em> along the Pisac route, and disembarked in a small town called Ccorao. We walked along the dirt road in the direction of our meeting point with the President of the weaving community. There was a thick layer of frost on the ground and the temperature was bone-chilling cold. I immediately regretted my decision to bring to South America only one pair of yoga pants and wondered how I would survive the cold nights in the weaving villages.<br /><br />We stumbled upon a small road-side store and used a public telephone to call Bacelio, the President of the Q’enqo weaving community. He answered from Cuzco. “Cuzco?” I asked. Yes, Bacelio was in Cuzco. It became apparent that somewhere the lines were crossed between Bacelio and the Peru leaders. We asked Bacelio to return to Ccorao and meet us on the dirt road leading into town, as agreed upon (according to the Peru Leaders). The four of us turned around and walked back towards the main road. Half an hour later, Bacelio appeared, and we jumped into a taxi leaving for Q’enqo – a small weaving community nestled in the Andean mountain range. The drive was at least an hour, along a rocky/unmarked trail (I felt sorry for Bacelio, who had to ride in the hatch). I wondered to myself if taxi drivers incur as much in damage to their vehicles as they receive in payment.<br /><br />We arrived in Q’enqo just before 9:00am, and were welcomed into Bacelio’s home. He served tea, coffee and bread and we discussed the itinerary for the day. The Peru Leaders raised to Bacelio issues the leaders have been experiencing, as of late, with Mosqoy students. On Bacelio’s recommendation, we paid a visit to one of the student’s families. Just as we were about to leave, I was reminded of why I should not have had coffee to drink – a natural diuretic. I pushed open the door to the restroom and was confronted with an African-style toilet (essentially, a hole in the ground with two footsteps). I sat pondering for a few minutes, wondering if I could manage the day if I were to pass on the opportunity. Although I had lived in Africa and encountered nothing but this style of toilet, I have somehow never managed to master the ability.<br /><br />We were welcomed by the student’s family. The family spoke only Quechua (a dialect unique to Andean communities), so Kie and I sat on a wooden log as the Peru Leaders spoke with the student’s parents. I contributed a nod of the head every few minutes or so, to communicate to the family that I was engaged and in the loop of what was going on. Although I could not understand what was being said, I could see disappointment in the mother’s eyes. I studied her facial expressions closely throughout the meeting to see if I could make out what the Peru Leaders were saying.<br /><br />We spent about an hour at the student’s home and then walked down the dirt road to Bacelio’s home where we would meet with the weavers. We sat in the sun and were served potato soup. Not too long after, we were joined by the weavers and our meeting began. With the help of Adrian and Elvira, I explained to the community our aim of establishing a volunteer service program, wherein Mosqoy students would give back to the weaving communities in the Sacred Valley region, and asked about needs in the community of Q’enqo. Bacelio explained the need for Spanish and cooking classes as well as the desire for administrative/tourism support from Mosqoy students. Another weaver raised the need for family planning workshops and increased education around opportunities for youth. I filled pages of my notebook with notes and promised to return to the community in mid-August to further discuss these project ideas.<br /><br />I thanked Bacelio and the weavers and inquired about the textile order I was to pick-up and pay for on behalf of the Q’ente Textile Revitalization Society. Within a matter of minutes, the weavers left and returned with the textile pieces they were responsible for making. The pieces were laid out on a blanket for me to inspect and we began the long, arduous process of labeling and recording each piece. I settled payment with Bacelio and we were invited, once again, to eat – this time, cheese and bread that I had purchased on behalf of Q’ente and gave as an offering to the community, fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and an enormous pile of fire-roasted potatoes.<br /><br />Bacelio explained that our taxi would not return for 2 or so hours, so the four of us agreed to attempt the 3-hour hike back to Ccorao. Although the trail was challenging and largely unmaintained (I struggled to catch my breath climbing up at least one mountain), we were rewarded with spectacular views of rolling mountains, a tranquil lake (Lago Q’oricocha) and herds of animals in their natural habitat - wild pigs, sheep, alpacas, and donkeys. I smiled to myself, knowing that, often, the road less traveled, is the road most rewarding.<br /><br />We found ourselves back in Ccorao just before 4:00pm. We sat waiting on the paved road for a <em>combi</em> heading in the direction of Cuzco. Four <em>combis</em> passed us by. The <em>combis</em> were so full that people were pressed up against the front, side and back windows. I could feel my stomach turning, not sure what this would hold for the 30 minute bus ride back to Cuzco. A few minutes later, a <em>combi</em> stopped and we were quick to jump on and secure a place to stand. The <em>combi</em> was stale and I had little room to breathe, sandwiched in between locals. The churning in my stomach was worsening and I began to feel a combination of dizziness and faintness. It was in this moment that I really began to worry that I would not make it back to Cuzco without seeing the contents of my stomach somewhere in the <em>combi</em>. I rested my head on the seat in front and tried not to think about the moments impending. As we approached Cuzco, the bus became half-empty and I welcomed the opportunity to sit and encourage my stomach to calm. Thoughts of the day ran through my head, and I tried to rationalize which meal had caused me upset. “Las papas” (potatoes), Elvira said. “Did you eat the potatoes?” “Yes,” I said groaning and holding my stomach. “They were not clean,” she explained. I gave myself a hard mental kick, because just the night before we had discussed how, with my weak stomach, I should refuse any and all community offerings. Although my stomach eventually did calm, the potatoes served as a crude reminder of why I should not accept offerings in the remote weaving villages. Lesson learned, at least for now…<br /><br />Tomorrow morning, I leave for the weaving communities of Amaru, Huaran, Calca and Cancha Cancha, and so will be out of reach for several days. I look forward to reporting back on my adventures when I return.<br /><br />Thanks for tuning in,<br /><br />Lindsay<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHAMLmc5E4Q/Ti3G4uAg4nI/AAAAAAAAAEg/9c17C7Zi72A/s1600/P1120780.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHAMLmc5E4Q/Ti3G4uAg4nI/AAAAAAAAAEg/9c17C7Zi72A/s400/P1120780.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633377386635518578" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3WeTPWO_5rY/Ti3GomOYZXI/AAAAAAAAAEY/l47yikU7rx8/s1600/P1120783.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3WeTPWO_5rY/Ti3GomOYZXI/AAAAAAAAAEY/l47yikU7rx8/s400/P1120783.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633377109668291954" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yxGcxXt2-WU/Ti3GX64thhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/dD1DN4tI2X0/s1600/P1120802.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yxGcxXt2-WU/Ti3GX64thhI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/dD1DN4tI2X0/s400/P1120802.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633376823156770322" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6j23ULGDcjc/Ti3GBQtGuZI/AAAAAAAAAEI/BW-zLbcNPHU/s1600/P1120920.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6j23ULGDcjc/Ti3GBQtGuZI/AAAAAAAAAEI/BW-zLbcNPHU/s400/P1120920.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633376433876679058" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qb3dwdOn1LU/Ti3FuBqluoI/AAAAAAAAAEA/jH33Dx2O3dI/s1600/P1120967.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qb3dwdOn1LU/Ti3FuBqluoI/AAAAAAAAAEA/jH33Dx2O3dI/s400/P1120967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633376103422081666" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nHgmXvvS13o/Ti3Fb00Eb1I/AAAAAAAAAD4/ZoYooQ9sssE/s1600/P1120969.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nHgmXvvS13o/Ti3Fb00Eb1I/AAAAAAAAAD4/ZoYooQ9sssE/s400/P1120969.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633375790734536530" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cAKfY8EXSNI/Ti3FCLdynhI/AAAAAAAAADw/FAT4CKMa6aY/s1600/P1130015.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cAKfY8EXSNI/Ti3FCLdynhI/AAAAAAAAADw/FAT4CKMa6aY/s400/P1130015.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633375350138510866" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-56519843615596885082011-07-22T16:43:00.000-07:002011-07-22T17:05:21.397-07:00Video Interviews in Ollantaytambo (posted by Kie)Lindsay and I have spent the past few days in Ollantaytambo conducting meetings and interviews with the current and incoming Mosqoy students. Ollantaytambo is a quaint little town and during my time off I have been spending my days here cooking (to be honest, my contribution has mostly been peeling potatoes), walking around and playing Frisbee with one of the children of the family that Lindsay and I have been staying with. On Wednesday I went for a walk a little-ways out of town and on my way back, I managed to come across some unmaintained ruins. After hiking for about 30-40 minutes with no tourists around, I realized that the unmaintained ruins were connected to the “official ruins” which was quite cool and it was interesting to see the contrast between the unmaintained ruins and the official ruins. <br /><br />In terms of the potential incoming student video-interviews, Lindsay and I have completed three so far (it has been really fun to interview them in Spanish while of course stumbling over the pronunciation of a few words!). In the past two days, we have interviewed Rosmery, Eurelesis and Karina, all young women from the Ollantaytambo area who have recently graduated from high school. The young women are all very mature for their age as they have had much responsibility placed on them at such a young age. For example, while Karina was attending high school, she also had to work and do household chores such as cook and clean since her mother has not lived at home for years and consequently, she has had to support her father and two younger brothers. She noted that even when she moves to Cusco for post-secondary studies, in addition to studying, she plans to work part-time so that she can continue supporting her father and two younger brothers. <br /><br />Lindsay and I found that all three applicants were very well-spoken and put thought into their answers. They also all seem to genuinely want to help others and their communities and are confident in what they want to study (two of them want to study nursing and one wants to study hotel administration). It was nice to see that they all want to come back to the Ollantaytambo area after they complete their studies in order to give back to their communities. Eurelesis mentioned that she was interested in starting a health program in Ollantaytambo and Karina would like to open up a pharmacy. <br /><br />Initially I wasn’ t really sure what to expect during the video interviews, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that all of the interviewees so far have been candid and open during their interviews as well as eager to engage with Lindsay and I. <br /><br />Tomorrow Lindsay, Rolando and I will be hosting a Mosqoy 2, 3 and 4 general meeting (with the students and their parents) to discuss the graduation ceremony, sponsor letters and questionnaires (to monitor the students’ progress). The meeting was announced on the local radio today which was quite exciting! <br /><br />~Kie<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dy_0vGtKvuo/TioNkJp67aI/AAAAAAAAACw/1fn9rX-AcmM/s1600/Karina.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Dy_0vGtKvuo/TioNkJp67aI/AAAAAAAAACw/1fn9rX-AcmM/s320/Karina.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632329198698425762" /></a><br />Karina<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4rQ5LhVxwxk/TioOCE-WMVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/SVfkJP0wqQ0/s1600/Eurelesis.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4rQ5LhVxwxk/TioOCE-WMVI/AAAAAAAAAC4/SVfkJP0wqQ0/s320/Eurelesis.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632329712837996882" /></a><br />Eurelesis<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRkBdWCw5Zw/TioOSmsA0eI/AAAAAAAAADA/0hPrauCfxxU/s1600/Rosmery.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zRkBdWCw5Zw/TioOSmsA0eI/AAAAAAAAADA/0hPrauCfxxU/s320/Rosmery.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632329996765811170" /></a><br />Rosmery<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NyeT68-LD6k/TioOoQQ2z9I/AAAAAAAAADI/ZHkhta8xubo/s1600/DSC_0293.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NyeT68-LD6k/TioOoQQ2z9I/AAAAAAAAADI/ZHkhta8xubo/s320/DSC_0293.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632330368703451090" /></a><br />The market in Ollantaytambo<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f6lZOZllKYM/TioPRFdU2-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/CvCx9AB7FhM/s1600/CSC_0428.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f6lZOZllKYM/TioPRFdU2-I/AAAAAAAAADQ/CvCx9AB7FhM/s320/CSC_0428.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632331070177598434" /></a><br />Me in the kitchen before preparing locro de zapallo<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_WPr0YADreo/TioP_Q8XTnI/AAAAAAAAADY/XFrLFPb08oo/s1600/DSC_0441.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_WPr0YADreo/TioP_Q8XTnI/AAAAAAAAADY/XFrLFPb08oo/s320/DSC_0441.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632331863534554738" /></a><br />Me in the Ollantaytambo ruins!Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-39026917749930118042011-07-20T14:07:00.000-07:002011-07-20T15:09:33.425-07:00Yo Soy Voluntario (posted by Lindsay)This week has been filled with as much adventure as it has frustration. Born from a culture that revolves around time and timeliness, it is frustrating to not only join, but to work in a culture where the same appreciation for time is not shared. Coordination meetings have been late to start, or, in some cases, expected attendees fail to show altogether. However, more and more, I am able to laugh my frustrations away. And, I suppose the bright side of recently failed and/or deferred meetings is that I found myself with a weekend free to explore the surroundings of Cuzco: Tipón, Piquillacta and Pisac.<br /><br /><strong>Tipón, Piquillacta and Pisac</strong><br /><br />On Saturday, I hopped a <em>combi</em> to Tipón, a small town on the outskirts of Cuzco. The town is known to tourists for its ruins, but is known only to locals for “cuy” (guinea pig). Together with two of my housemates, I negotiated a taxi to drive us up the steep mountain to the base of the Tipón ruins. Not keen to pay the high entrance fee to the ruins (I take after my father), I spent the afternoon descending the mountain on foot, stopping every now and then for a photo and the opportunity to interact with passing locals. I waited 30 minutes at the base of the mountain to re-join my housemates, and then we set off for the ruins of Piquillacta, only 10 minutes by taxi. Late afternoon, we made our way back to Tipón, stopping off at a local restaurant (<em>read: open grill on the side of the road</em>) to indulge in a local delicacy: “cuy” (guinea pig). Though, I quite enjoyed guinea pig, I admit that the meat was far too rich for my liking.<br /><br />I spent much of Sunday wondering about the Pisac markets and exchanging pleasantries with locals. The streets of Pisac were filled with festivities – traditional music and dance, colourful/extravagant costumes, and a sea of empty Inka Kola/Cusqueña beer bottles! I was really taken with the expression of culture in Pisac, and because words cannot do it justice, I am attaching a few photos below.<br /><br /><strong>Ollantaytambo</strong><br /><br />Kie and I arrived in Ollantaytambo yesterday afternoon and settled into our family’s home. The family is pleasant and the children, for the most part, are keen to interact with us. Nelson (3 years old), however, did not warm to us immediately. Nelson greeted us wielding a broomstick and made several attempts to counteract (verbally and physically) the flame we had burning for hot water. After a few swings with the broom, I turned to Nelson and said with a firm voice, “es malo!” (in English, “that is bad!”) and he took off crying in the corner. I am semi-confident that he learned his lesson, because he had only hugs and niceties to offer in the evening.<br /><br />My first impressions of Ollantaytambo are encouraging. Although Ollantaytambo is much smaller than Cuzco, I much prefer the tranquility of Ollantaytambo. The streets of Ollantaytambo are narrow and constructed of cobblestone as they are in Cuzco, however, the streets of Ollantaytambo are guarded by large stone walls (similar to a fortress!) reminiscent of Inca civilization.<br /><br />As my work begins here in Peru, I find myself excited, yet at the same time anxious. My Spanish is manageable, but by no means perfect…<br /><br />Leaving Peru, my goal is that I am able to contribute to something both tangible and sustainable and leave with good faith that I have in some way made an impact, however small.<br /><br />Lindsay<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_gT9AQRkiY8/TidQ9HYwUrI/AAAAAAAAADo/zJ7Z29cFjFI/s1600/P1120502.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_gT9AQRkiY8/TidQ9HYwUrI/AAAAAAAAADo/zJ7Z29cFjFI/s400/P1120502.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631558869935215282" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iu9y44UtsIs/TidOolNt1LI/AAAAAAAAAC4/TWeMTZbYFXU/s1600/P1120517.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iu9y44UtsIs/TidOolNt1LI/AAAAAAAAAC4/TWeMTZbYFXU/s400/P1120517.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631556318141469874" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JlKrYJCNRYM/TidO5UK14MI/AAAAAAAAADA/oQKYbU-zq2c/s1600/P1120547.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JlKrYJCNRYM/TidO5UK14MI/AAAAAAAAADA/oQKYbU-zq2c/s400/P1120547.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631556605623787714" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdu2kKoMZTM/TidPMZ14PFI/AAAAAAAAADI/xcGDfDZXTq0/s1600/P1120550.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jdu2kKoMZTM/TidPMZ14PFI/AAAAAAAAADI/xcGDfDZXTq0/s400/P1120550.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631556933563989074" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p8IjUweacdU/TidPbQckQTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/AIQf8SJzG8I/s1600/P1120564.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p8IjUweacdU/TidPbQckQTI/AAAAAAAAADQ/AIQf8SJzG8I/s400/P1120564.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631557188739940658" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SUNzvmJMYxA/TidPp37KwhI/AAAAAAAAADY/ODU2moy1dH8/s1600/P1120570.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SUNzvmJMYxA/TidPp37KwhI/AAAAAAAAADY/ODU2moy1dH8/s400/P1120570.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631557439855444498" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-89635693480777712432011-07-19T08:09:00.000-07:002011-07-19T08:16:02.150-07:00And the volunteering starts! (posted by Kie)On Sunday night Lindsay and I met with all of the Mosqoy leaders at Casa Mosqoy where they and all of the students live. It was exciting to go there and finally meet all of the leaders (Ebhert, Elvira, Adrian and Rolando) together to kick-start the volunteer work that Lindsay and I will be doing in Cusco, Ollantaytambo and a few of the weaving communities. <br /><br />For those who don’t know, the Mosqoy leaders are alumni who graduated from their post-secondary institutions last year and have been hand-picked to act as leaders of the students who are currently studying. Each leader has a main responsibility which is specific to him/herself although they often collaborate and assist one another. For example, Ebhert is the activities coordinator, Adrian is the house supervisor, Elvira is in charge of issues related to the student volunteer program and education, and Rolando works as a communications liaison between Peru and Canada. <br /><br />At the house, we went over Lindsay’s and my itinerary, discussed when certain tasks should take place and worked on figuring out logistics. It was an important meeting where we got to organize and plan the next week. Through interacting with each of the leaders, I observed that each of them took their roles quite seriously and really tried to hammer out the details of the itinerary which was helpful.<br /><br />In other news, yesterday morning Lindsay and I met with Bacelio (a member of a weaving community in the Sacred Valley called Q’enqo) to buy yarn at a local shop near San Pedro Market. Next week we will be going to Q’enqoand Amaruto purchase some textiles for Mosqoy’s partner organization, Q’ente, which focuses on revitalizing and supporting the weaving communities in the Sacred Valley region. I think that they will be very interesting cultural experiences so I am very much looking forward to visiting the communities. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9eTangB_BZs/TiWefXyjRBI/AAAAAAAAACg/jtt6m33kXok/s1600/Cusco%2B-%2BImport%2BJuly%2B19%252C%2B2011%2B061%2B%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9eTangB_BZs/TiWefXyjRBI/AAAAAAAAACg/jtt6m33kXok/s320/Cusco%2B-%2BImport%2BJuly%2B19%252C%2B2011%2B061%2B%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631081170895848466" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jkLmA797vn8/TiWestc5NqI/AAAAAAAAACo/wHA_VNEoGtg/s1600/Cusco%2B-%2BImport%2BJuly%2B19%252C%2B2011%2B062%2B%25282%2529.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jkLmA797vn8/TiWestc5NqI/AAAAAAAAACo/wHA_VNEoGtg/s320/Cusco%2B-%2BImport%2BJuly%2B19%252C%2B2011%2B062%2B%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631081400048891554" /></a>Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-71011202609126593882011-07-14T16:33:00.000-07:002011-07-17T15:57:07.688-07:00All About Food/Todo Sobre la Comida (posted by Kie)I believe that one of the richest ways to experience a different culture is to try their food. Southern Peruvian food consists of a lot of potatoes; lentils, beans and/or rice; and meat (chicken and beef being the most common, followed by pork and on special occasions duck, turkey or “cuy” ie. guinea pig). Alpaca steak is also a delicacy although I think it’s more commonly served in tourist restaurants than at home. While ceviche (raw fish marinated with citrus juices, spiced with chilli peppers and often served with chopped onions and avocado) is probably Peru’s most famous dish, it’s not too commonly consumed in Cuzco since the city does not lie on the coast. <br /><br />In my experience of food here so far, it is rare to be served a meal without potatoes. It makes sense once you find out just how many varieties of potato are grown in Peru – over 2000! Apparently there are more kinds of potato grown in Peru than in any other country in the world. Furthermore, the diversity when it comes to corn is also quite incredible – there are approximately 35 different kinds of corn cultivated here. The locals not only use corn to prepare various dishes, but they use it to make a drink called “chicha” (one can have this drink cold, warm, non-alcoholic or alcoholic). So far throughout my stay in Cuzco, I have been served warm “chich morada” made with purple corn several times for breakfast. Though it’s not something that I might crave or order at a café or restaurant, with every mug I’m getting more accustomed to the taste. <br /><br />Additionally, in order to explore the culture of Peruvian food, I’ve been attending cooking classes at FairPlay (my Spanish school), which take place every Tuesday. They’re a lot of fun not only because you get to help prepare the ingredients, but because you get to see the whole process of how a dish is made and socialize with some of the Spanish teachers and students. The first week we made lomo saltado which is a dish that consists of sauteed slices of beef, onions, tomatoes and fries served on rice. The second week we made causa rellena which is a mashed potato cake with chicken, avocado and mayonnaise inside (and topped with sliced tomatoes and onions as well as black olives). Finally, at the last cooking class we made tallarin verde con ocopa which is a green pesto-like pasta served with a boiled potato, hard-boiled eggs and aji (chilli sauce). All of them were really good, but I think my favourite was lomo saltado because of the variety of ingredients involved and the “papas fritas” (thick French fries) which were fried to perfection. <br /><br />Other observations: Products that are definitely not consumed here as much as in Vancouver are milk (the amount of milk consumed in Peru is approximately 55 litres per capita whereas the amount of milk consumed in Canada is approximately 94 litres per capita), drip or espresso coffee (most people drink instant powdered coffee) and whole or multigrain bread. Ice cream is very popular and cheap here which is great since I am a pretty big proponent of ice cream. Inca Kola tastes like yellow cream soda and is owned by Coca Cola but I think it is rarely sold outside of Peru (and perhaps Bolivia). <br /><br />Cheers everyone!<br /><br />Kie<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g2Xu-fCFpiY/Th99qp4knOI/AAAAAAAAABw/Xcp132lX0TU/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B031.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g2Xu-fCFpiY/Th99qp4knOI/AAAAAAAAABw/Xcp132lX0TU/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B031.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629356230987521250" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8KKs-FKoiUI/Th9_dj9Bf9I/AAAAAAAAACA/ZKsLvFdXROo/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8KKs-FKoiUI/Th9_dj9Bf9I/AAAAAAAAACA/ZKsLvFdXROo/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B033.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629358205080534994" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cw1FtkRdNEU/Th-A9JqsP2I/AAAAAAAAACI/5ggLZGgeFlQ/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cw1FtkRdNEU/Th-A9JqsP2I/AAAAAAAAACI/5ggLZGgeFlQ/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629359847291764578" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7nuKwr9-YRw/Th-CRhIpGUI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HUVDX5eA5K0/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B034.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7nuKwr9-YRw/Th-CRhIpGUI/AAAAAAAAACQ/HUVDX5eA5K0/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B034.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629361296700414274" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BR9hv7rdBkk/Th-DkZwB52I/AAAAAAAAACY/ArFd_CLtLwU/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B038.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BR9hv7rdBkk/Th-DkZwB52I/AAAAAAAAACY/ArFd_CLtLwU/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B038.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629362720647276386" /></a>Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-50544621051619875502011-07-14T11:00:00.000-07:002011-07-14T12:04:02.966-07:00Machu Picchu: To 100 Years and 100 Years More (posted by Lindsay)My alarm clock sounded at 2:00am on Sunday morning and I awoke to join hundreds of sleepy-eyed tourists waiting to be taken by one of the most remarkable archaeological sites on the continent – Machu Picchu. I had taken the train from Poroy (a small town on the outskirts of Cuzco) to Aguas Calientes (often referred to as <em>Machu Picchu Pueblo</em>) the day before. Aguas Calientes is as small as it is monotonous. By my count, there are as many massage parlours as there are restaurants. I jokingly refer to Aguas Calientes and Cuzco as the massage capitals of the world.<br /><br />Minutes before 6:00am, I joined the already well-formed line leading to the entrance of Machu Picchu and secured my place hopeful for the opportunity to obtain one of 400 daily climbing permits to Wayna Picchu (offered on a first-come, first-serve basis). Because Machu Picchu sees thousands of visitors daily, (understandably) the queue for climbing permits to Wayna Picchu is hostile and unsparing. Tourists are eager to police the line both verbally and physically and by no means hesitate to out others for unfair play. Callous it might be, I happily walked away with my climbing permit to Wayna Picchu (choosing to climb with the second group at 10:00am).<br /><br />I pushed through the entrance gates to Machu Picchu just before sunrise. I stood tranquil, for a while, watching the first rays of sunlight blanket Machu Picchu. I felt restored and inspired to piece together the thoughts in my head. Traveling, particularly on my own, encourages me to reflect on what it is I want in life. And what I want is a life rich in and rounded by experience. It is my hope to someday flip through the pages of my life and feel confident that I have opened myself up to every experience possible: the good, the bad and the ugly.<br /><br />I spent a good couple of hours exploring the ruins of Machu Picchu before heading to the entrance gates of Wayna Picchu. The Wayna Picchu climb was as difficult as it was steep. The altitude alone is enough to take your breath away. However, those that make it to the peak are rewarded with spectacular views of the ruins and surrounding mountains (not to mention bragging rights).<br /><br />I descended Machu Picchu mid-afternoon, my legs still aching from the steep uphill battle with Wayna Picchu. I boarded a late afternoon train for Poroy (4 hours), and sat back in my chair watching towering mountain ranges disappear into the horizon. It was about mid-way through the journey when I became acutely aware of the black fly bites on my ankles (foresight was somewhere lost in my excitement). [Though, I suppose this will toughen me for the infamous <em>puri puri</em> awaiting foreign flesh, when I make my way overland to the Gran Sabana region of Venezuela in November]. I arrived at the train station at 8:30pm and was surprised (but, at the same time, not) to find that buses were no longer running to Cuzco. Annoyed at the idea of paying for a taxi, I bartered with three tourists from mainland China for an impromptu “ride-hitch” into Cuzco. I could not have asked for a more interesting or better way to round out a fantastic weekend spent at Machu Picchu…<br /><br />Cheers, Machu Picchu, to 100 years and 100 years more!<br /><br />Lindsay<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3BADM3--j30/Th8xbNlBVfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/egpaiXqbyJ0/s1600/P1110103.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3BADM3--j30/Th8xbNlBVfI/AAAAAAAAAA4/egpaiXqbyJ0/s400/P1110103.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629272402807576050" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yv_TA4U7eWM/Th8xbc3ReUI/AAAAAAAAABA/uI2Jd_RC_BQ/s1600/P1110242.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yv_TA4U7eWM/Th8xbc3ReUI/AAAAAAAAABA/uI2Jd_RC_BQ/s400/P1110242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629272406910662978" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVkneTjxVjQ/Th8xbpjAiUI/AAAAAAAAABI/M_Jl0LmKVw4/s1600/P1110877.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVkneTjxVjQ/Th8xbpjAiUI/AAAAAAAAABI/M_Jl0LmKVw4/s400/P1110877.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629272410315327810" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-75892242913760487912011-07-06T09:30:00.001-07:002011-07-08T20:01:58.582-07:00Cultural Observations (posted by Kie)1. Fiestas & Parades Galore<br /><br />What I have noticed in Cuzco (and which I similarly noticed in Bolivia) is that they really enjoy their fiestas and parades. It seems as though there is a parade or fiesta of some sort almost every day. There were fireworks on the night of my arrival in Cuzco (which I got a great view of from my homestay family’s house) and it was quite humorous as nobody even knew what the occasion was for setting them off.<br /><br />Additionally, El Dia de San Pedro (The Day of the Saint San Pedro) was last Wednesday and the procession of the saints throughout the city proceeded to take another 5-6 days. The procession not only involved the saints, but many people dressed up in various traditional costumes dancing on the streets as well as their accompanying bands. <br /><br />This weekend I will probably witness even more celebrations since I am planning to visit Machu Picchu and the 100th Anniversary of Machu Picchu is on Monday, July 11th.<br /><br />2. Being Asian in Peru <br /><br />Another interesting cultural phenomenon which I have experienced in Cuzco is being called “China” or “Chinita” on the street by the locals. I am not sure why but people seem to like pointing out that I am Asian. It’s not done in a harmful way but I do feel a bit odd having the spotlight randomly put on me when I am making my way around the city. There was also an instance when a local joked that I was “Keiko” (Fujimori), one of the candidates who recently ran in the presidential elections of Peru. <br /><br />It seems as though many people here tend to think that most Asian cultures are interchangeable and in various conversations I have had to explain the differences between Chinese and Japanese culture. For example, many people think that the Chinese and Japanese languages are the same (not realizing that even within Chinese culture itself there are two main languages and many dialects). Explaining that I’m from Vancouver or Canada has been met with mixed results (most people seem to want me to say that I am from somewhere in Asia and probe until I say where my parents are from). <br /><br />One thing that’s for sure is that Peruvians definitely like their Chinese food (their version is called "chifa"). There are a ton of Chinese restaurants in Cuzco. I’ll have to try one out to compare the Chinese food here to that which is served back home.<br /><br />3. A Visit to Almudena Cemetery<br /><br />On Monday I visited one of the largest cemeteries in Cuzco where the graves are very unique. The tombs are stacked up on top of each other and each tomb has its own window behind which people can place flowers, photographs as well as little mementos which relate to the person. Many windows had plastic miniature bottles of beer and Coca Cola which was pretty interesting. Some even had miniature crates of beer and a special Peruvian dish purchased from one of the local vendors just outside the cemetery (the special dish consisting of cheese, cuy (guinea pig), chicken and a few other sides). <br /><br />Moreover, I learned that the bigger tombs have the actual corpses behind the windows and the smaller tombs are for individuals who were cremated. There were also mausoleums for families and important individuals from Cuzco. And of course when I was exiting the cemetery, a parade was just entering! <br /><br />The following is a picture that I took at Almudena Cemetery (I will try to attach more pictures later as the internet connection I have now is not the best):<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dki8cDLAM7g/ThSQrpKbzAI/AAAAAAAAABg/sfTRtd74kyU/s1600/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B014.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dki8cDLAM7g/ThSQrpKbzAI/AAAAAAAAABg/sfTRtd74kyU/s320/Kie%2527s%2BCusco%2BPics%2B-%2BJune%2B6%252C%2B2011%2B014.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626280913950985218" /></a><br /><br /><br />-KieKiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-90177401552237065402011-07-04T05:48:00.000-07:002011-07-04T12:06:53.851-07:00Ramblings of a Backpacker (posted by Lindsay)If you have ever been to Cuzco, you know just how unforgiving the climate can be. The skies have been filled with menacing clouds and heavy rains these past few days (uncommon this time of year) and the temperature has been dipping below zero at night (normal this time of year). Because the water system is solar-powered in many Cuzco homes, a sunless sky has meant running water cold enough to freeze. For me, this has meant seeking solace in my bed and four consecutive days without a shower. Though, I enjoy the challenge and embrace the opportunity to devise creative solutions; for instance, shower by “wetnap.” Besides, what would travel be if not for the trials and tribulations? I believe them to be a necessary part of travel and I am confident that you learn equally from the negative as you do the positive.<br /><br />Having traveled to parts of Africa, Asia and islands in the Caribbean and South Pacific, I recognize that fair features invite curious/leering eyes. Though, I am surprised that this has been nothing short of true in Cuzco, a town well-visited by tourists and foreigners alike. I find myself all too often the subject of probing eyes and obnoxious honking on the streets of Cuzco. Though, if my time in Brazil has taught me anything, Brazil taught me how to play an aggressive game of eye hockey. Exploring the precarious streets of Rio de Janeiro (a city that sees the devil’s share of violent crime), I learned the necessity of locking eyes with locals, projecting confidence and resilience. This has been a similarly useful technique in Peru, helping to defuse a sometimes uncomfortable stare.<br /><br />Aside from curious advances, I feel rather secure walking the streets of Cuzco. Peruvians are, for the most part, gregarious and sympathetic. I sure wish I could say the same for cars…My heels have been nearly pinched a few times by aggressive and egocentric drivers. I have quickly learned that four wheels rule the road (and sidewalk) in Cuzco.<br /><br />My Spanish is improving by the day. I am more confident in my interactions with locals and find myself eager to introduce new words into my vocabulary. Though, I remain humble in my abilities, and welcome corrections and new learnings from children as young as three. Learning a new language, I find, can be exhausting at times. And so, next weekend I have planned a well-deserved break from Spanish lessons – a visit to Machu Picchu!<br /><br />Note: I am attaching photos taken at a local festival in Cuzco, "El Dia de San Pedro" (The Day of the Saint San Pedro).<br /><br />Lindsay<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qJkMbABGflc/ThIJcOTR1DI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YeAf_gp1JGQ/s1600/P1100269.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qJkMbABGflc/ThIJcOTR1DI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YeAf_gp1JGQ/s400/P1100269.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625569265019114546" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRnQajy-IIM/ThIJbqUK4JI/AAAAAAAAAAo/0RUutemGIr4/s1600/P1100258.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FRnQajy-IIM/ThIJbqUK4JI/AAAAAAAAAAo/0RUutemGIr4/s400/P1100258.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625569255359176850" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-beKJjS3Vekk/ThIJbSYmnaI/AAAAAAAAAAg/9bZKAbkG3VQ/s1600/P1100250.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-beKJjS3Vekk/ThIJbSYmnaI/AAAAAAAAAAg/9bZKAbkG3VQ/s400/P1100250.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625569248935320994" /></a>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-34148808855107607482011-06-30T14:51:00.000-07:002011-06-30T14:57:11.169-07:00Cusco – A Different Perspective (posted by Kie)One can experience the same city in many different ways. Though I travelled to Cusco four years ago, my experience this time stands in stark contrast to when I was last here. This time around I am living with a host family a little bit away from the city centre and have been making a conscious effort to come “home” for most meals so that I can converse with the host family. Secondly, living away from the city centre and my Spanish school means that I have experimented with various modes of getting myself around the city such as walking, taking the combis (overcrowded mini-vans which are mostly meant for locals rather than tourists) and taxis. The combis are definitely an interesting experience as you get to interact with the locals a bit (even if it is just sitting really squished next to them) and sitting by the door can give you a bit of an adrenaline rush since the combis often start driving before the door is even closed (bear in mind the fact that the drivers in Cusco don’t really follow any rules and pedestrians never have right-of-way). <br /><br />After my arrival in Cusco early Monday morning, I dived into my Spanish classes at FairPlay right away. I have been taking 2 hours of grammar and 2 hours of practical Spanish every day. The grammar and practical Spanish classes complement each other as the grammar lessons gives you the basic tools to construct sentences and the practical classes allow you to practice what you’ve learned. The practical classes are also a great way to experience the city. For example, my practical Spanish teacher has taken me to El Mercado San Pedro where we looked at and discussed the many fruits and vegetables and she has also taken me to her daughter’s school recital where I was able to watch various traditional dances performed by children ranging from the ages of 3 to 11. FairPlay, the school where I am taking my Spanish classes, is quite unique as all of the teachers are single mothers who were struggling economically and socially but after enduring eight months of rigorous training, completing 30 exams and monthly evaluations, they are now excellent teachers. Moreover, FairPlay is not only a Spanish school but they organize for volunteer work and run cooking and Spanish classes (I participated in their cooking class on Tuesday night where we made a traditional Peruvian dish called lomo saltado which consists of beef, fried potatoes, red peppers and rice).<br /><br />For those who have yet to visit Cusco, it’s a very beautiful city full of cobblestone streets and one can definitely feel the mixture of the Spanish and Incan influences – the Spanish built the city on top of Incan ruins. Because of the high influx of tourists, there are now many travel agencies, restaurants, cafes and bars geared towards tourists. However, the local Andean culture is still very visible and poverty is still a pressing problem. Nevertheless, I have noticed that people here really look out for each other (even the children).<br /><br />Signing off, I leave you with some pictures of Cusco:<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qP9_J-ls0Vg/TgzxGpzaRkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/bVmxIP48T3Y/s1600/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B073.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qP9_J-ls0Vg/TgzxGpzaRkI/AAAAAAAAABQ/bVmxIP48T3Y/s320/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B073.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624135131281901122" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3kIXX_mCL2w/TgzwstCrMsI/AAAAAAAAABI/4RA9zN31ha8/s1600/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B119.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3kIXX_mCL2w/TgzwstCrMsI/AAAAAAAAABI/4RA9zN31ha8/s320/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B119.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624134685474632386" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q43DhKqqjXo/TgzwScViKnI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZqFgOpe8mn4/s1600/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B114.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q43DhKqqjXo/TgzwScViKnI/AAAAAAAAABA/ZqFgOpe8mn4/s320/Bolivia%2Band%2BCusco%2B114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624134234313730674" /></a>Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-75201203758426364302011-06-29T10:51:00.000-07:002011-06-29T10:58:04.821-07:00Mi Casa, Cuzco (posted by Lindsay)Having just spent two weeks taking in the warm-weathered beaches of Brazil, I was immediately struck by the cold and unsympathetic weather in Cuzco, Peru. My first breath in Cuzco was a difficult one; at an altitude of 3300 metres, I feel my lungs working twice as hard on inhalation. Though, I am happy to report that I have not succumbed to altitude sickness – I credit steady consumption of mate de coca (coca tea).<br /><br />Countless travel guides (mine included) paint Cuzco as the gem of the Peruvian Andes – is it ever! I often find myself lost in the culture and landscape that, together, make Cuzco such a beautiful and unique city. The surrounding mountains are decorated with ruins, beckoning tourists to venture off trail…<br /><br />Over the next three weeks, I will be taking Spanish classes at an organization called FairPlay in Cuzco. FairPlay took root in 2006 and has since trained 32 single mothers in Cuzco to become Spanish teachers. I spend a welcomed four hours a day in Spanish class, my time divided equally into grammar and practical lessons. Walking to and from classes at FairPlay has become a new pastime of mine. Although I could easily and affordably take a taxi or ‘colectivo’ (read: overcrowded mini-bus) to FairPlay, the 45-minute walk (each way) allows me time to absorb and reflect on my new environment.<br /><br />Learning a new language is equally rewarding as it is trying...I do appreciate the small steps of learning, however, it is highly frustrating when your contributions at the dinner table are limited to the day, month and season (I concede that even my Brazilian Portuguese is better than my Spanish). At times, I struggle with pronunciation – my Spanish teacher sure gets a laugh when I confuse “Hombre” (man) and “Hambre” (the verb for hunger). She explained that confusing the two words could land me in a rather awkward predicament. I recognize that my learning curve is steep; however, I am confident that, in time, my Spanish will improve.<br /><br />Despite only having been in Cuzco for three days, I feel welcomed and settled in my family’s home. I am grateful for their generosity and hospitality and for their continued patience while I transition into a new language and culture. The perception that Peruvian families showcase hospitality on a plate has never been more true – I have been indulging in many traditional/homemade Peruvian dishes. (It is not an overstatement to say that I have eaten better in Cuzco in one day than I have two weeks in Brazil).<br /><br />I am happy to be able to call Peru home, at least for a little while…<br /><br />LindsayLindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-45860623908913696972011-06-18T15:06:00.000-07:002011-06-18T15:27:37.019-07:00Gone South (posted by Lindsay)<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M42gOCUewWA/Tf0lO3j61yI/AAAAAAAAAAY/b7_fb5NHzTc/s1600/dandelion_banner.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 337px; height: 181px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M42gOCUewWA/Tf0lO3j61yI/AAAAAAAAAAY/b7_fb5NHzTc/s400/dandelion_banner.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5619688847391250210" /></a><p class="xecxmsonormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black">Travel has taught me some of life’s most important lessons. Travel has taught me independence, humility, spontaneity and adaptability. I have learned to seize the good, absorb the unexpected and stand resilient to the challenges. In many ways, travel has shaped my character and will indefinitely drive the person I want to become.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="color:black">Knowing this, it is no surprise that I jumped at the opportunity to participate in the Education Generation Fellowship in the Scared Valley region of Peru. </span><span lang="EN-US">The annual Fellowship program sends volunteer fellows overseas to enhance relationships with, and support education partners on the ground.<span style="color:black"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">This summer, I will be partnering with Education Generation’s partner Mosqoy: <i>Sacred Valley Youth Fund</i> in Peru. Mosqoy is dedicated to providing education opportunities for youth and helping communities in the Sacred Valley region of Peru to achieve sustainable development. The objectives are realized by providing young leaders with scholarships enabling them to continue their studies and help their families break the cycle of poverty.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Mosqoy is further committed to the preservation of traditional Quechua values, and works in collaboration with the Q’ente Textile Revitalization Society to maintain and foster cultural and historical integrity through the Quechua weaving tradition. Q’ente works directly with weavers from the Sacred Valley region to provide them a fair trade outlet to sell textiles in North America.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">During the Fellowship experience, I will work on the Base Program as well as a Focus Project (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Kallpa K’oj Program</i>).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><u><span lang="EN-US">Base Program<o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><u><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></u></b></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">As part of the Base Program, I will be working directly with students to provide a communication liaison and document the work of the Peruvian students by completing progress updates for donors. In addition, I will assist with the transition of students, including organizing the graduation ceremony for existing Mosqoy students, and integrating new students into the program. Other activities will include, student mentorship, program evaluation, visits with the families of the students, English language training; and participation in student selection and other initiatives, such as income generation projects.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><u><span lang="EN-US">Focus Project – <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Kallpa K’oj Program</i><o:p></o:p></span></u></b></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><u><span lang="EN-US"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal"><br /></i></span></u></b></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Kallpa K’oj is Quechua for “giving back energy” and is a Mosqoy student volunteer service program designed to support traditional weaving communities in the Sacred Valley region. As a condition of their scholarships, Mosqoy students are required to give back 30 hours of community service for every academic year.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">The Program are goals are to: 1) maintain cultural ties with weaving communities; 2) support Q’ente weaving communities; 3) give back to the Q’ente Textile Revitalization Society; 4) instill leadership qualities in Mosqoy students; and 5) teach students the value of giving and reciprocity. The Program entails four phases:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US">Phase 1:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> Foster community awareness and buy-in of the Program<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US">Phase 2:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> Initiate community needs assessment and co-development of volunteer service projects with each weaving community<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US">Phase 3:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> Finalize the Program, including volunteer service projects, timeline and implementation strategy<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><span lang="EN-US">Phase 4:</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> Implement volunteer projects, including student selection and training<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Phase 1 of the Kallpa K’oj Program is complete. I will focus on Phases 2 and 3 which will involve traveling on foot or by cattle truck/bus to a number of traditional weaving communities in the Sacred Valley region of Peru (Q’enqo, Pisac, Huaran, Calca, Cancha Cancha, Bombon, Parobamba, Pitukiska, Amparaes, Amaru, Pachar). I will meet with weavers and leaders in the communities and co-develop volunteer service projects which may include, literacy training, cooking classes, and Spanish language training. The Kallpa K’oj Program is based on reciprocity and knowledge exchange, and with that in mind, I will also work with each weaving community to establish reciprocity initiatives, such that the community craftspeople will teach Mosqoy students traditional weaving and dying methods.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Between Fellowship activities, I will backpack through Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, and, time permitting, Venezuela.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Regular blog updates will begin the week of June 27th.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Hasta Luego!</span></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><br /></p><p class="xecxmsonormal" style="margin:0cm;margin-bottom:.0001pt"><span lang="EN-US">Lindsay</span></p>Lindsayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14162243084610217573noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-63111314994451227332011-06-09T00:18:00.000-07:002011-06-09T10:09:28.882-07:00New Beginnings (posted by Kie)<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000066;"></span></p><br /><br />Welcome everyone to my first entry on Education Generation's blog!<br /><br />My name is Kie and I will be traveling to Peru this summer to embark on a unique experience: that of volunteering with youth in the Sacred Valley. I will be working with Education Generation and their partner Mosqoy in Peru, both of which are organizations that provide merit-based scholarships to students who want the opportunity to attend post-secondary education but do not have the financial means to do so.<br /><br />I have outlined a few of my fellowship goals below:<br /><br />1) Monitor, document and evaluate the progress and development of the Mosqoy students and alumni.<br /><br />2) Assist in planning a graduation ceremony, student daytrip and community-wide event in Ollantaytambo.<br /><br />3) Facilitate teambuilding and leadership sessions for the Mosqoy leaders (four alumni who have been handpicked to lead other students based on their skills and achievements). <br /><br />Another exciting project that I will get to be a part of is creating a library in Q’enqo, a weaving community in the Sacred Valley, for which a grade three class in Calgary fundraised over $400. This is a project I am really thrilled about because the kids in Calgary as well as their teachers are so excited that their funds raised will actually make a concrete difference. It’s also a great example of youth helping youth. <br /><br />Though I’ve been to Peru before, I know that this experience will be like no other and will open my eyes in ways that I can’t even yet imagine. I know there will be times when I will feel amazed and inspired, and other times when I might feel like pulling my hair out. Either way, both types of experiences are necessary to learning. I hope to come out of Peru knowing not only that I have made a tangible difference, but that the projects that I have worked on will be sustainable for local Peruvians to eventually take over the reins.<br /><br />Life is too short to wait around for something to happen. In order to grow, and live life fully, one has to face challenges and try new things. <br /><br />Here’s to Peru,<br /><br />Kie<br /><br />P.S. I will be updating on here regularly starting the week of June 27th.<br /><br />Here's a map showing some of the places I'll be:<br />Cusco (first 3 weeks); Ollantaytambo (most of the subsequent 6 weeks); Q'enqo (1-2 days); various weaving villages not on this map - Parobamba, Bombom and Pitukiska (4 days)<br /> <br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000066;"></span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55b9cWpa_hU/TfB02VUf2II/AAAAAAAAAAQ/bIOvEUY_8u8/s1600/sacred%2Bvalley%2Bmap.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 350px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 188px; CURSOR: pointer" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5616117212115884162" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-55b9cWpa_hU/TfB02VUf2II/AAAAAAAAAAQ/bIOvEUY_8u8/s320/sacred%2Bvalley%2Bmap.jpg" /></a></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p>Kiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13623837038650220780noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-38300525738367372372010-08-09T12:35:00.000-07:002010-09-25T17:13:17.540-07:00And it’s over….Closing thoughts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs072.snc4/34968_1438549817081_1633080031_1066669_8093756_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs072.snc4/34968_1438549817081_1633080031_1066669_8093756_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Before I had set out on this adventure, I was afraid. Until a few weeks before the trip, it did not really hit me that I would be living for 2.5 months in a completely foreign environment, a completely foreign culture, and speaking a completely different language. Not only that, I had to actually WORK in this very same country, culture and language. I got very nervous…but, nonetheless, decided to challenge myself, suck up the fears, and get the most out of the experience.<br /><br />Back in April, sitting in my cozy room in Vancouver, I could not even begin to imagine what my experience would be like in Peru. I knew a little bit about the country, and I knew quite a lot about the programs I would be working with- but what I would experience on a daily basis, and how I would feel in those foreign environments…was completely unknown to me. That was probably the very thing that scared me. But, I told myself, that there is no point to mull things over you cannot change or do anything about- and so I sat on that plane- open, willing to learn, embrace, and help. And very, very nervous. More like- extremely nervous.<br /><br />In retrospective, I am glad that I didn’t let the fear or nervousness take hold of me because the time in that beautiful country, with such exceptional students as my friends, was one of the most memorable experiences of my life.<br /><br />The more I try to fit my fellowship into a few descriptive words, the more I realize that the experience was indescribable. It was…to sound cliché, amazing. There really are no other words to describe it, honestly! The experience was beautiful, challenging, fun, difficult, sad, inspiring, stunning, tiring, incredible…if I try to find more words! Waking up in the Andean mountains, having breakfast with a Peruvian family, and then working during the day, meeting students and families, learning about the way people live, hearing their stories, their wants, needs, wishes…it was an experience that I will never forget. It was a true immersion into a culture that is so rich and so inviting.<br /><br />The experience would also be nothing without the immediate friendships that I had made with the Mosqoy students. They are mature, enthusiastic, and friendly students who are eager to take on the world and the new opportunities being presented to them. I felt so fortunate to be working with organizations that are truly making a difference in the Peruvian communities and helping all these wonderful people I had met.<br /><br />Thinking about the experience, here are a few thoughts that I’ve been having.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Making a difference</span> – One student wrote to me after the trip:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> “Thank you for giving me strength to keep going and never give up.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">”</span><div><br />It really moved me and made me think. My work in Peru did not change the world. What I realized and saw firsthand, however, is how we can all make a difference. There is no impact too small. One, two, or four hundred kind acts…they all help and in turn create a ripple effect. The work that Mosqoy and Education Generation do, helps out, not only the student, but their families, and their communities as well. Act by act; empowering people to make a difference themselves - that’s how you change the world. I saw for the first time, however, to what extent this actually works. Lives are being changed. Families are being changed. Communities are being changed. All because everybody is doing their part in helping. It was incredibly inspiring and moving. </div><div><br />I will always remember how eager the students were when they talked about the program. How incredibly excited and hopeful their parents and families were when they would think of all the opportunities their child’s education would bring to their families. They would always ask if this program would go on for longer because it is so important to them. I will never forget that.<br /><br /></div><div><b>Challenge and growth</b>- One of the remarkable things about the fellowship is that, as I’ve mentioned before, it’s a challenge. It’s a different life- sometimes without showers or comfortable beds. Sometimes with different food or different customs. Sometimes you love it and other times you’re frustrated with it. But I would not trade my fellowship experience for the world. It was incredibly fun, but at the same time I really had to push myself to adapt to the life.</div><div><br />It was really powerful waking up in small villages and not thinking about what I was going to wear or stressing about what people will think if my jeans are a little dirty. Seeing that some families do not have proper kitchens, electricity, or even running water, really shifts one’s priorities. It makes me feel ashamed that I am stressing about getting the new iPhone while my Mosqoy friends live completely simple and basic lives. The thing that got to me the most was, that they were all incredibly happy- while I, who has a ‘higher standard of living’, could list many more problems in my life. I saw that you don’t need much to be happy and sometimes even felt ashamed at how spoiled I was. In Vancouver, I get bogged down by superficial and material things (which ultimately cannot be real sources of happiness), and as such automatically set myself up for failure and unhappiness. It was refreshing to live life with different priorities. </div><div><br />I’m starting to ramble now, but those are a few thoughts I’ve been having. </div><div><br />Overall, it was an incredible experience, in an incredible country, with even more incredible people. I hope that you enjoyed reading this blog and finding out more about the trip. I also hope that it inspired you just a little more to make your small difference that will ripple, and go a long way in communities all around the world.<br /></div>Jevtahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08892272145163239002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-40106205801299022162010-08-09T10:21:00.000-07:002010-08-09T12:35:12.715-07:00The Last Few Days<div style="text-align: left;">First off, I cannot continue writing without apologizing for the delay in blogging. A fortunate and unfortunate turn of events kept me off the computer for way too long- and I didn’t get a chance to finish blogging about my last little bit of the trip.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>At the end of June, I had gotten pretty bad food poisoning that kept me off the internet for a while, but quickly recovered when my sister, Mila (an Education Generation volunteer as well) came to visit Mosqoy and me in Peru for the last part of the trip!<br /><br />It was so fantastic to have Mila there to see both my work, but also to meet the students and see the program she’s been working with for years. We got to hang out with students, help out, and also hold our big community event. And of course, in between Mosqoy activities we also did some great tourist sightseeing and visited Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. Stunning!<br />The big community event that I organized with Mosqoy 3 students was a soccer and volleyball championship. It was a completely different experience organizing an event in Peru as the cultural differences really come to shine during times like that. In the small town of Ollantaytambo, communication and organization methods are much more different and it was a fun (and sometimes very frustrating while learning) challenge adapting to those differences and still making sure everything runs smoothly. Luckily as the event unfolded, all worries quickly disappeared. The students really impressed me with their initiative and leadership keenness. Even things that we never discussed were taken care of, and the Mosqoy 3 students kept on running up and down making sure everything was under control. The strength of the program really came to light during the event, as both Mosqoy 1 and Mosqoy 2 students showed up to help out and compete at the event.<br /><br />During Mila’s stay in Peru, we also participated and helped out during the recruitment and selection of Mosqoy 4 students. Not only is Mosqoy 3 just starting their studies, but also it is time to think ahead and start the selection process for Mosqoy 4. We were part of Mosqoy 4 meetings with students and their families, as well as the introduction of the Mosqoy program to a new high school in a nearby village, where we hope to recruit students from. It was very interesting to watch the student’s faces as they learn about the program- a mixture of confusion, awe, and disbelief that something like this is happening and is real. I am sure we will be hearing much more about Mosqoy 4 students in the next year.<br /><br />In between these Mosqoy activities, we also went to Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca. There are really no words to describe this beautiful country. We are so incredibly lucky to have seen the many sides of Peru.<br />Check out some of the photos below:<br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs038.snc4/34264_1438554257192_1633080031_1066716_5750798_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><i><div style="text-align: center;">High School seniors at Colegio Ollantay listening to a presentation about Mosqoy 4. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></i><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs184.snc4/37549_1438551857132_1633080031_1066690_5372348_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Mila and I in Machu Picchu!</i> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs032.ash2/34968_1438549857082_1633080031_1066670_325137_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div><i><div style="text-align: center;">Students competing in the Soccer and Volleyball Community Championship organized by Mosqoy students. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></i><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs072.snc4/34968_1438549897083_1633080031_1066671_1611512_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Teaming competing during the community event. This is the Colegio Ollantay- the high school where a lot of the Mosqoy students went to school. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs052.snc4/34968_1438549977085_1633080031_1066673_4418600_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">Mila with Mosqoy 1 leaders</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 263px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs032.ash2/34968_1438549937084_1633080031_1066672_6637029_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>With Mosqoy 3 students at the community event. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div></div><br /></div></div>Jevtahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08892272145163239002noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1825012882325174581.post-25638586351448831302010-06-26T17:08:00.000-07:002010-06-26T17:08:00.548-07:00Mosqoy 3 Day Trip!Part of my work with Mosqoy 3 is to integrate the new generation of students into the Mosqoy program. In addition, I am working towards creating a cohesive bond between the students and facilitating teambuilding events and exercises. <br /><br />Today, I went with the students on a day trip to nearby ruins by the name of Pumamarka. We met in Ollantaytambo at 6:30 AM (and then waited until 8:30 for all the students to arrive. This is what they call ‘hora peruana’ or in other words the great tendency for things to be late). We then bought all of our daily supplies, and set out on the hike. <br /><br />Just like anywhere in Peru, the scenery is stunning. We walked along the rolling mountains, passed small villages, and laughed along the way. Once we have finally arrived to the ruins (they always have to be on top of the mountains! We were exhausted by the time we got there), we immediately opened the food. Sitting in what used to be the room of a general Inca, we ate papaya and got to know each other better. We then played many games (I managed to explain the game ‘I have never’ to them in Spanish), listened to music, and had a meeting regarding our sports championship event on July 3rd. <br /><br />The students are bright young adults and it’s a pleasure to hang out with them. Regardless of culture, teenagers are still teenagers, and we joked about love, were self-conscious of dancing in front of others, and were quick to tease each other. <br /><br />Enjoy the photos from the trip below (note: blogger is acting up again and the formating is a bit strange. I apologize):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs093.snc4/36030_1420541606887_1633080031_1022908_7524778_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 360px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs093.snc4/36030_1420541606887_1633080031_1022908_7524778_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs053.ash2/36030_1420541646888_1633080031_1022909_798045_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs053.ash2/36030_1420541646888_1633080031_1022909_798045_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">On the hike up!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs093.snc4/36030_1420541686889_1633080031_1022910_1402651_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc4/hs093.snc4/36030_1420541686889_1633080031_1022910_1402651_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Near the top. </span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs053.ash2/36030_1420541726890_1633080031_1022911_1346721_n.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 360px; height: 270px;" src="http://sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash2/hs053.ash2/36030_1420541726890_1633080031_1022911_1346721_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Mosqoy 3!</span>Jevtahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08892272145163239002noreply@blogger.com0