Seven
short days here in Cusco and I feel more at home than a mouse in his
hole. The lush green hills of the Andes cradle the city, and deep
valleys disperse from every side like the many veins and arteries of a
heart. Brown, silty rivers are the blood that rushes through them,
carrying the fertile components of earth and water, and providing life
of all sorts an opportunity to flourish and strive. The mountains here
radiate with a soul of their own, and it is not hard to see why the
human race was able to achieve such undefiable feats of engineering and
architecture in these very same valleys so many years ago. Now, as I
walk to work each day, I breathe in the same air and kick the same soil
that saw some of the greatest civilizations in history rise and fall,
and only they can hold the knowledge that still boggles some of the most
powerful minds of today.
The
people here share the same passion for life that their ancestors seemed
to possess, which is palpable through every interaction I have with
them. They are friendly and happy, and enjoy welcoming gringos with a
smile and a generous offer on some "original" art. Since I arrived last
Monday, I have met more friends than I can count, and the abundance of
backpackers and tourists also provides an international twist that makes
for exciting company no matter the occasion. A trip to the main square
on the afternoon of our arrival revealed the massive and intricate decor
of several cathedrals, their huge stone walls so incredibly engraved
that they look like they have been sculpted from clay. As we walked away
from the plaza, we found ourselves in the narrow, winding streets of
cobblestone that snake through the sea of red-tiled roofs like the
rivers of the surrounding hills. Again and again, the seemingly endless
corridors would open to reveal yet another plaza, boasting a fountain or
a statue or a park. The frequent rain showers leave the grass long and
the roofs spotted with lush green moss. Beautifully carved wooden
balconies line the upper levels, and they provided a perfect spot to
have a drink and take in the view. After getting some supplies, we
headed home to enjoy a dinner of rice, potatoes, vegetables and steak
all topped off with a delicious pumpkin sauce. Already, I could not have
been happier to be here in Cusco.
The
next morning I awoke and enjoyed the luxury of a warm shower. Not long
afterwards, a staff member from Projects Abroad arrived at the house and
we began our orientation. The backdrop of clouds dripping over the
hills in the early morning light made the fifteen minute walk to work
seem almost surreal. Brightly colored flowers that lined the roads still
sparkled with drops of dew, and even as we walked under bridges and
across busy express ways, the natural beauty far overpowered the sights
and sounds of a burgeoning city. When we arrived at the office- a small
apartment in a nice neighborhood- a gardener turned from his vibrant
collection of flora to greet us with a smile. After complimenting his
work, we headed inside to go over the program expectations, as well as
some basic strategies for teaching English. A walk to the school
afterwards would complete our orientation, and I headed home to enjoy a
long afternoon of good food and much needed relaxation.
On
Wednesday, we didn't have to go to work because there was a social
event planned that afternoon. One of my roommates and I decided to wake
up anyways and accompany our homestay mother on a visit to a local
elderly home, where we helped some residents with a few games of bingo.
They were all very sweet and curious about my life back home. We shared
stories and laughs as the numbers rolled one by one out of the wheel,
and the boards slowly filled up. When one of the men I was helping got a
full bingo, it was interesting to see him rewarded with batteries,
either AA or AAA depending on what sort of radio he had. After he slowly
hobbled away, batteries in his hand and a grin on his face, we packed
up and left, not forgetting the wonderful insight we had gained by
interacting with the oldest and wisest members of the culture. We then
walked to a nearby bus station, where we loaded in a van and headed to
Urubamba. The two hour drive was one of the most stunning I have ever
experienced! We climbed to the top of multiple plateaus that offered
views of jutting, snow capped peaks in the distance. As we came closer
and closer to one of those jagged, rocky spires, we suddenly descended
into a deep valley with a wide, flat bottom, where the small town was
nestled up against a river. Unfortunately, the bridge into town was not
suitable for vehicles, and we had to get off the van and walk across,
where we got a small rickshaw taxi to the main square. From there we
headed to the local market, which was obviously the busiest place in
town. The big open shed housed hundreds of vendors, each overflowing
with colorful vegetables, spices, candy, clothing, flowers and pretty
much anything else you could ever ask for. As we ventured into the
butcher section (which took up one whole side of the shed) we saw
carcasses of all sorts, including cows, pigs, llamas, and guinea pigs.
On one table rested what seemed to be the brains of a cow sitting right
beside the heart, which is supposed to be about the best part of the
animal. A popular dish here, the beef heart is sometimes even served on a
stick, and is supposedly tender and flavorful. After the market, we
stopped for a quick lunch and went to meet the rest of the group, who
were arriving on a later bus. Once they got there, we headed up the hill
on what turned out to be an extremely steep and challenging climb. The
ascent was relentless, and my lungs certainly noticed the lack of oxygen
as we climbed to about 11000 feet of elevation. The summit made the
climb worth every step, and as the sweat evaporated in the cool breeze,
my eyes feasted on a 360 degree view of snow covered peaks towering over
massive green mounds of earth. I could not resist the urge to let out a
booming, barbaric yell that echoed across the entire valley, bouncing
off the walls of nature and man alike. The descent was quick and easy,
and after crossing town, we once again traversed the bridge connecting
Urubamba with the outside world. As the sun dipped behind the hills, we
boarded a public bus headed back to Cusco. Unbeknownst to us, the driver
seemingly had no knowledge of basic physics, and as we barreled around
sharp curves and bombed down steep hills, I could not have been more
anxious to see the city lights appear in the distance. Finally, they
did, and a few minutes later we were off the bus and out for a pizza
dinner, accompanied by a Peruvian flute band. After dinner, we headed
home for some much needed rest.
On
Thursday, I returned to work for some much needed advice on basic
teaching strategies, and helped develop a pretest to determine what
level of English the teachers were at. After work, we went to the plaza
to enjoy the international company and a drink. It was there that we
found out about the pub crawl that evening, which turned out to be an
extravaganza of fun, laughter, and dance. The group consisted of five
folks from Australia, one from New Zealand, one from Denmark, and two of
us from the states, as well as our Peruvian guide. I won't go into the
details, but there was lots of table dancing and face painting, and
billiards of course. The entire next day was designated recovery time,
as we had to rest up for the following day, which so happened to my
birthday.
Saturday
began with cake and song, as my homestay family and roommates gathered
around the small kitchen table to sing me a beautiful, bilingual
rendition of 'Happy Birthday'. The cake didn't turn out to be the most
filling breakfast, so after an hour or two we headed to town for lunch.
We decided to explore the many narrow streets that surround the square,
and eventually stumbled into a humble abode that was tucked in an alley
about three blocks from the plaza. Inside, I scored a three course meal
of soup, al paca, and fruit salad for about five American dollars, which
quickly made up for the unsubstantial yet quite enjoyable breakfast.
With our bellies full, we decided to go for a hike up one of the nearby
hills, to El Christo Blanco. Once again, the lack of oxygen burned my
lungs and muscles alike, but when finally at the top, a postcard worthy
view restored both my body and mind. An afternoon thunderstorm pranced
across the valley below, and it began to rain as we sat huddled under an
umbrella, humbled by the unbelievable forces of nature. We returned
home for a delicious meal and some rest before heading out for a night
on the town. The hours to follow are mostly a blur, but I made it safely
back to the house at about 7 the next morning. Rejuvenation was in
store, and a lazy Sunday was exactly what I needed, so I spent the day
resting and playing the guitar, with the occasional snack in between.
It
was time to get down to business the following morning, and we headed
to school to administer the exam we had written the previous Thursday.
It was quite a turn of the tables to be giving a test to teachers after
all the years of being on the other end. After all of the teachers were
finished, we returned to the office to go over the tests and see where
our "students" stand. We waited to be split into pairs and assigned to
classes, and I soon found out that I would be teaching the most basic
class... alone. This was a little overwhelming at first, as I knew I
would have to truly put my knowledge of Spanish to the test, because
none of my students speak a lick of English. I planned my first lesson
around the alphabet, and wrote a short dialogue to help with
pronunciation. As I walked to the school the next morning, the nerves
accumulated in my stomach, and I began to wonder if I was cut out for
the job. What if I can't answer their questions? What if they don't want
to learn? What if my lesson plan fails? All of these questions are
probably pretty common on any teachers first day, let alone a nineteen
year old's first day teaching in a foreign country, in a foreign
language, to people who are fifteen years older than him. Not to mention
that they are trained and experienced teachers and I have absolutely no
background in the field. Despite all of these worries, the day went
fine, even though I had to improvise for the second half of the morning.
After work I hurried to the office to plan a much more extensive
lesson, in hopes that I wouldn't be in the same situation the next day.
Today,
the lesson went much better, and with a cooler head, I was able to
guide my students to a better understanding of basic terms and ideas. I
have a feeling that from here on out, the lessons will only be easier
and easier, both to plan and to deliver. My partner will arrive next
week, and having a second teacher in the classroom will make a huge
difference. I can already sense my Spanish improving greatly, and am
guessing I'll be a pro after the next fifteen lessons.
I
hope you enjoyed this edition of "Just Passin' Through"! Keep an eye
out for updates on the many delightful adventures to come. This week was
an excellent start to four months of mind expanding experiences and
life changing awesomeness. So long!
