Break for the Border

The weather her in Arequipa is perhaps what most people (i.e. those without light skin and prone to sunburns) would call 'perfect'. In my time here there has been about three or four over cast days and the rest of the time there has been glorious sunshine. No wonder that most of the tourists seem to have bought entire outfits consisting of little more then shorts and flip flops (which do look a little strange on the odd overcast day).

It was a little surprising then when we arrive at Puno on the shores of Lake Titicaca at 11:30 PM to find driven rain and freezing temperatures that reminded me of home. Now all we had to do was find a hostel for the night, catch the 6am bus to Desaguedero, cross the border to Bolivia and we were sorted…

The excursion to Bolivia will probably not go down as one of my best thought out travel plans. In fact I only realised that I needed to go to Bolivia a day or two earlier when my soon-to-expire visa date was suddenly brought forward after I committed to teaching English in one of the local language school.

"You start next week, on the 1st" said Samantha, the Sarah Palin look a like who had almost literally begged me to take 3 classes as they were losing 4 teachers over Christmas. "Next week is December?" I replied stupidly, suddenly realising that if that week was full of teaching I wouldn't have a chance to get to renew my visa before the 4th. "Yes," she said smiling, "Not a problem?"

I had got back to the house and tentatively enquired whether it might be possible to get to Bolivia or Chile the next day. Thankfully, despite organisational problems I've had with Jose, his daughter Jerenie has yet to let me down. She sorted everything out and I was more than happy to let her take the lead.

…We selected our hostel in Puno carefully, trying all the nice looking ones first and finding they were full we then went looking for hostels that weren’t too grotty looking. We managed to find one, however they said that unfortunately they only had one bed. I chivalrously offered to sleep on the floor, but when arriving in the cell (the room was about 8 foot by 4 foot and with a hard stone floor and a thin window near the ceiling) I decided to ask if Jerenie minded sharing the bed. This was a little tricky. I have shared beds before when staying at friends with both guys and girls but wasn't too sure what the local custom was and sharing a room might have been awkward enough. I ended up lying on top of the covers and trying my best not to move over the next five hours so as to give Jerenie a chance to sleep.

At 6am we caught a bus to Desaguedero. I had expected we would take one from the main station, a large comfortable one like the one we had taken from Arequipa. The buses to Desaguedero however all turned out to be microbuses, the kind where leg room is not deemed compulsory.

We arrived at the border an hour or two later to find the weather here even worse. The heavens had opened and there was a large queue to enter the border office. The queue lasted about an hour an a half however fortunately there was a roofline we were able to huddle under to avoid getting drenched too much. I had asked if it would be cold before I came so had packed a jumper and a coat (which I ended up giving to Jerenie in an attempt to stop her shivering like a pneumatic drill) however there were several foreigners in the line who evidently hadn't packed anything other than shorts and flip flops.

After getting my passport stamped to leave Peru we crossed on foot over to Bolivia where the incoming line was less then five minutes. Often countries try and make border towns relatively attractive to welcome people to the country. However Bolivia had decided visitors would find a rather confusing pueblo with no clear main road, signs or tourist information and a few locals selling confectionary for half the price of the same thing in Peru much more preferable.

We wondered around the pueblo for about 15 minutes before stumbling across a busy main road with various touts offering taxis and microbuses to La Paz and other destinations. We were unsure where to go and the three hour trip to La Paz seemed a little too long for a day trip. There was meant to be a nice touristy town about an hour away so we made enquiries into this only to find the price for the bus horrendously inflated with the drivers asking for more money then our coazy 5 hour Arequipa-Puno bus had been. The weather had not got any better and neither of us had slept well/at all the pervious night so after half an hour we decided to leave.

Perhaps another time Bolivia.

North South, East West, First, Second and Third

I realised in my last post, when I was talking about the difference between a Peruvian and a European organisation that I used the term 'Northern' and 'Southern' and that these terms may perhaps be unfamiliar to some people reading this.

Most people would probably refer to a European Organisation and way of thinking as being 'Western' although they would then run into some trouble on defining a Peruvian organisation as Peru is of course further West than the UK.

They might instead refer to Peru as a 'third world country' although like me they might be unsure where the first and second world begin and end exactly.

No words are perfect to fit the situation of course, but North and South are generally a little more accurate and less linked to ideologies. It is likely that in a few years time it may seem patronising as these things move in cycles, but for now I prefer it to referring to Peru as a third world country.

23rd November

The last few weeks have been pretty quiet here so I really don't have much of an excuse for not having written here other than there simply wasn't much to write about.

We had two or three very busy weeks coinciding with the group from Germany coming out here, the trip to Orcomampa and Alca and the start of the project in La Mansion. At that time I felt I wasn't getting a moment to myself so it has been strange these last couple of weeks where nothing has really been asked of me.

The Comedor (kitchen) in La Mansion seems to be running along successfully. I went most of the first week and a few times the second week but of late I've been a bit pre-occupied with trying to get the website in order and the two hour round trip has also been a factor.

For those reading this post as a one off, La Mansion is a pueblo joven, a shanty town on the edge of Areuipa where malnutrition and parasites affect many, in fact post, of the residents especially the children. CIESCU's project is designed to combat these issues by providing nutritional meals for primary aged children. A secondary aim is to aid the capacity building of the community, mostly the mothers, who learn how to prepare these meals under the supervision of two trained nutritionists. Also it is hoped that improved nutrition will have a beneficial effect on the school work of the students.


It's great to finally see a project get going and to get a tangible understanding of what CIESCU actually *does*. When I signed up to come out here I had been under the impression that there were several projects already under way here but as of yet I have not seen them.

On the website there seems to be some projects planned and awaiting finance but these seem to range from restoring colonial era churches to setting up mobile dentists and optromocists however I'm still confused as how this is meant to be accomplished. Jose has explained that my role here is to raise funds for the projects and get volunteers to come out to take part, but without being clear on what the projects are, or even if they currently exist this is proving difficult. At least now that my Spanish is improving I should be able to broach some of these subjects. I also need to find out more about how much money the organisation has and where this goes as any potential funders will want to know this before they send out any money.

I should at this juncture highlight that it is not my intention to complain or gripe about my situation here. My role, however ill defined, is allowing me to learn and explore avenues that would not otherwise be open to me. If all I get out of this year is the experience of living in Peru for a year and improved Spanish this will be enough. I raise these points and problems to illustrate some of the challenges faced in working in Development, especially when you are working with a Southern organisation where stricture and accountability are sometimes not given the same attention as they are in Northern countries.

Bus's

Taking a bus in Peru is sometimes feel like being on an aeroplane moments before parachuting into enemy territory. Most of the busses are cramped, with seats squeesed in to maximize capacity. The lack of space is even more noticeable on the small microbuses where the seats seem to have been borrowed from nursery class rooms and bolted to the floor. Even on the crowded city roads the drivers do their best to get as close to Mach 3 as possible.

What makes it most like a parachute jump however is the exit. Buses never stop for longer than they need to so when you are approaching your designated drop zone you must cautiously exit your seat and try to make your way to the exit while the turbulence of the road buffets and bounces you off co-passengers as the vehicle navigates pot holes, speed bumps and small children.

Once you have signalled to the conductor he tells the driver to stop and the bus invariably breaks as near sound shattering speed as you grip onto the metal support bars in order to prevent yourself being thrown through the front wind screen. Even before the bus has come to a complete stop the conductor is already shouting "Baja! Baja! Baja!" (Down! Down! Down!) and so you leap off at the first possible opportunity, relived to feel solid ground beneath your feet.