Nomadic Hands

SPEEDING THROUGH LATIN AMERICA

simonefrancis — Wed, 1 Apr 2009 00:57:00 GMT

I took a bus finally back to Sao Paulo to get my passport. I stayed only two
days with a friend Carlos and then took a bus for $142 Reais to Foz de
Iguazu (huge waterfalls on the border of Paraguay, Argentina and Brazil)
where I spent the day. I then took a bus to Corriented in the evening for
$55 Pesos. In Corrientes I stayed with a guy named Diego who is studying
psycology. We and his friend Lea went to river and drank Terere which is a
typical drink in the north of Argentina. It was made with the chopped leaf
of a plant called yerba mate and was mixed orange juice.

Diego ended up becoming a really good friend... even only after three days
of staying with him. He took me a few hours away to a town called Formosa,
close to Paraguay, where I stayed with his family for a night. Their house
is also joined to an English school which they own.

In the evening I went with Diego and his boyfriend Daniel to their friends
house. There were about seven girls, all wearing black, all with black hair,
and they all study economics. They were all really friendly and we had a
good laugh through the night.

The next day, Diego´s family took me to his grandmothers house where there
was a bbq, and I met many more of his family members. They were all very
interested in Australian culture, animals, and what food I normally eat. I
liked one type of savoury cake they gave me, which is typical in Paraguay,
and thought the sausages were tasty until Diego told me that they were made
only from cooked cows blood and then he told me exactly how they were made.

I left that afternoon to Salta. The bus (La Nueva Estrella) cost me around
$80 pesos and took about 15 hours.

Martin Picked me up from the Salta bus terminal at 6:30am, then I went and
left my bags at his house. He showed me around the town with one of his old
friends Ramon (who he hadn´t seen in two years, and happen to find him
sleeping in a bus at the terminal!). They showed me some nice churches,
architecture, and a park with a view of the mountains. After Ramon left for
another city we went for lunch. I then went back to pick up my bags, said a
quick hello and goodbye to Martiun´s family, and took a bus for $18 pesos
(Flecha bus) to San Pedro de Jujuy.

A nutritionist named Mariana met me at the bus stop and drove me to her
house where her mother, father, and Grandmother live. Mariana and I got
along extremely well but unfortunately I could only spend about three hours
getting to know her as she had to leave for Mendoza (a city in the south of
Argentina) to begin another university course about how to make clothes etc.
It was the strangest feeling waving goodbye to her as she left on the bus,
standing beside her parents... it was like child swap! And for the next two
days, they really did look after me like I was their own daughter. They fed
me, washed my clothes, and took me around the town to different houses to
visit their other family members. In one house where I was fed dinner, there
were 12 animals; A huge dog, six cats, and five birds! The dog was so jealous
that he would block my path when I went to go and pat the cats!

On the last night in the house I didn´t get much sleep... I cant believe
people here get up at 4am to sweep the streets with huge noisy brooms! In
the morning my new Argentinian parents drove me to San Salvador de Jujuy to
meet my next host, Guillermo (Christian). He´s a 34 year old politician,
quiet and very helpful. He has two houses and so gave me the keys to one
that I could stay in by myself for a few days! Although the light switch
immediately electrocuted me, the comfortable bed and clamness of the place
was wonderful.

I cooked dinneer for Christian, his pregnant girlfriend and his mother in
law that night, and we sat talking about everything from how I cooked the
potatoes to soap operas to travelling. They told me while I was in Jujuy I
must go and see the mountains close by, so the next day I went to Purmaraca,
Maimara and Tilcara. All of the towns were beautiful, especially Purmaraca,
which was filled with rocky mountains of all different colours and spotted
with cactus. I spent half of the day walking around with Ester, a German
girl who is on a break from studying sociology at university.

I arrived back in Jujuy in the evening, and while I was trying to find a
cheap bus ticket to Santa Cruz- Bolivia, I met a guy Lee at the information
desk. He seemed to be having alot of difficulty communicating, so I
translated for him. The man at the info. desk was really no help at all
anyway, so I also told Lee more or less how to get to the salt flats (which
is where he was headed). When he found out I was going to Bolivia that
night, he immediately wanted to come with me because he hadn´t run into
anyone else who spoke English. I had wanted to go to the salt flats of
Bolivia for many years, and so with another spurt of spontaneity, changed my
route around Bolivia. I knew that it would also make my first part of the
journey alot safer.

Christian came and picked us both up at the bus terminal, took us for
hamburgers. It was funny watching Christian and Lee, as they could really
only smile and nod due to the language barrier. Christian knew it would be
freezing at Quiaca (the border). and with great generosity... yes even more,
gave me one of his warm jumpers.

And it was freezing!! To make matters worse, Lee and I, and another French
traveller we met on the way, had to wait for 2 1/2 hours on the border...
from 5am for immigration to open. We all then took a dodgy, very dodgy,
falling to pieces, $10 Bolivianos, 3 hour bus to Tupiza. Then Lee and I took
another dodgy, 7 hour bus ride to Uyuni that cost $40 Bolivianos. But all of
the scenery was incredible and changed dramatically after each one of my
short naps.

Lee was awesome and ended up paying for my accommodation that night as I had
made his travels a bit easier with my Spanish. He also mentioned that
because he was with me, it had been the cheapest couple of days for him over
the past five months of travel throughout South America.

I took a tour the next day to the salt flats. (my first tour in ten months
of travel). I bargained the agent from $150 Bolivianos down to $110... she
was a lovely lady. I never normally take tours when travelling because I
cant stand so many people crammed into beautiful places, but this was one of
the best places I have seen in my life, and I was so close to not even
going!!

I especially loved the way the snow peaked mountains and clouds reflected on
the wet salt (from the rain two days previously). I cant even begin to
describe how wonderful it was... it felt like I was in another world...
another far off distant universe. It still amazes me how places like this
actually exist, but then it amazes me even more to know that so many people
dont care about places like this, places completely filled with nature;
people who litter, people who suck up oceans of oil from the ground, people
who blow up land with bombs!! Perhaps if they were to see, even just for a
moment, such breathtaking natural beauty, they would re-consider their
destructive actions and begin to protect and enjoy the earth, not kill it.

I only just made it back to Uyuni about 5 minutes before my bus (6 de
Octubre) left to Sucre. It cost me $50 Bolivianos and took me 12 hours.
There wasn´t a bus to Santa Cruz until 4pm and so I spent the day walking
around downtown. The city was quite nice. I went to get my hair cut (finally
after such a long time), for $10 Bolivianos. Unfortunately at one stage I
had to take the cutting process into my own hands until the owner walked in
and saw me styling my own fringe with the scissors. She fortunately fixed
what damage the new hairdresser (and now probably me) had done.

At 4pm I took another 6 de Octubre bus to Santa Cruz, which cost me $40
Bolivianos and took me 14hrs. On the bus I met a local guy named Nitzu. It
so happened that we are nearly exactly the same age (only three months
apart). We
had also pretty much travelled the same journey by bus before meeting. When
I arrived at the terminal, I went to get my bags and Nitzu had
disappeared... probably because I was talking so much and because I had
accidentally elbowed him in the head, on the bus, while I was half asleep.

I went to an Internet cafe and was having trouble deciding whether to stay in
Santa Cruz, or to go and meet a couchsurfer in Okinawa (about 1 1/2 hours
away). I decided on Okinawa and hopped onto a local bus that would take me
part of the way. As I was sitting on the bus, after about 10 minutes of
travel, the most random thing happened... Nitzu got on the bus!!! We were
both so shocked that we had run into each other again, and in a city of about
one and a half million people. He had gone home, changed clothes, and was on
his way to work. This time we exchanged emails.

It cost me about $15-$20 Bolivianos to get to Okinawa. It surprised me a bit
because there was Japanese written everywhere. I met with Eugene, a
couchsurfer that I had spoken with months before hand over the net, who has
very similar interests to me.

Eugene was born in Nigeria, Africa, and grew up in America. He is a writer,
is into making documentaries, and volunteers for an NGO where he teaches
English to Bolivian and Japanese immigrant children. Just about all of the
kids at the school can speak Japanese, and all can speak Spanish. Eugene was
a very nice host and helped me to wash my disgustingly dirty clothes, and
even gave up his bed for me and slept on the floor! He told me that he first
really wanted to begin helping people after he had volunteered in a Mother
Teresa house in America. There, he said, he learnt alot about life... he
would wash old men who couldn´t make it to the bathroom on time, and help
the mentally disabled people who would walk in off the street as they
weren´t able to get in top a facility. Eugene´s housemate (Brian) was also
really cool... he is also volunteering in the town, teaching English.

Eugene took me to a Japanese restaurant and then we went and visited one of
the first immigrants, a woman who was born in Okinawa (Japan). She helped us
both learn more Japanese language and gave us some delicious fruits.

The next day I went with Eugene to a couple of his English classes. He
taught the class with a Bolivian man named Romer. Because the principal and
directors of the school are very adamant about keeping a strict Japanese
study system, the classes were extremely boring. I mentioned this to Eugene
and Romer and then they asked me to run the class for a bit. I played some
English learning games and suddenly the kids woke up and stopped yawning. I
also made them play Chinese whispers... yes in a Japanese- English school in
Bolivia. I was asked to teach part of another class later also.

Eugene taught me so many cool things about travel as he has been to over 40
countries. We both now really want to meet up and work helping the
environment in Antarctica at the end of the year.

As I didn´t really have a p`lace to sleep that night, Romer invited me to
stay in his house in Montero (a town on the way back to Santa Cruz). Romer
told me that he first began learning English so that he could get out of
Bolivia. He also said that one night while he was riding his dad´s motor
bike, someone on another bike behind him, holding a gun, told him to stop!
He stopped, and to his amazement (and also the robbers), it was one of his
17 year old English students!! Romer was lucky. He now plans to volunteer in
Canada in August this year with an exchange program.

Romer took me out for a typical Bolivian meal, where we had at least five
different people, over the span of only 1/2 an hour, ask for money. Romer
bought food for at least two or three of the people. He then drove me around
the town and introduced me to a few of his friends.

The next morning when we were watching the news, I was shocked! It showed a
guy getting bashed on the street by his neighbours. He was getting kicked in
the stomach on the ground and had blood pouring from his body. Then it
showed him getting kicked in the face... again and again, in slow motion! He
was getting hit because he was addicted to sniffing petrol. It really made
me feel sick to see how people treat others who have problems. Yes, he may
have done some bad things, but this violent behaviour shown on the news is
certainly no good influence for young people... for anyone!!

One of Romers friends Denisse, went with me the next day to Santa Cruz to
help me buy a violin (since I have always wanted to learn how to play, since
I was a kid). I bought a cute, cheap one with some of the birthday money my
parents had recently sent to me.

I hugged Denisse goodbye and went to the bus terminal, yet again, and bought
a $25 Boliviano ticket to Cochabamba, which took me about 11 hours. But
before I left, I had a few hours to spare, so I went to a park and played my
violin for the first time... well tried to. A young soccer player stopped by
and started chatting to me. He must have heard the beautiful music hahahaha,
not!! We had a nice conversation about work, life, love, religion and food
as he walked me back to the terminal. I hopped on the bus, surrounded by
babies, and left with the thought of the painfully sleepless night ahead of
me.

It didn´t end up being so bad though- I slept for about 6 hours. I reached
Cochabamba and about 1/2 and hour later got on another bus to Oruro (bus
company Danubio 2) which cost $15 Bolivianos (although there is always a
separate terminal tax to pay of about $1-$3 Bolivianos) and took 4 hours.
Then I took one more bus to Llallagua, which cost $13 Bolivianos.

I arrived in Llallagua, which is a cute little town full of donkeys and
lamas. I called my next host Marco and he came and got me from the terminal.
He showed me my room and gave me a key to the house... a large house. He
lives there with his friend Michele from Italy (which is where they were both born).

They both work with an NGO and help the locals here with things such as
agriculture and sanitation. They took me to their friends house for dinner
that night and we ate Falafels. There were about four other people there who
either volunteer or work to help people. There was a woman working in social
projects with women, and others helping to teach in schools.

I finally went to sleep and enjoyed dreaming in a bed for once. The next day
while the boys were working, I went to catch up on some writing in an
Internet. I met a nice man and I showed him how to download and use Skype,
along with many other programs. He ended up bringing me food, tea, and then
let me use his computer for about 6 hours!

That evening I was quite sick with stomach problems and a slight fever. I cooked dinner for Marco, Michele, another two of their local Boliviano friends, and another Italian couchsurfer who is on a motorcycle journey around the world. But I only ate about two bites of the meal before I went to lie down and pass out.

I woke up the next morning at 5am to the abrupt sound of a group of men from the military running and chanting all together down the street. I thought twice before not calling out the window ¨Excuse me, do you mind? I´m trying to sleep here!¨ But then it hit me that I was feeling ok! I was actually expecting to be sick for at least three days like last time I was in Bolivia.

My bus to Oruro was going to leave at 7:15, so I wrote the guys a goodbye note (instead of waking them) and headed off. The bus cost $13 Bolivianos and took three hours. A nice Bolivian woman, who is studying social work, sat beside me and we spoke for about two hours. She helped me find a bus to La Paz for only $10 Bolivianos... which ended up taking about 6 hours instead of 4 to five as the tire popped on the way.

I reached La Paz and travelled for about another hour by Trufis and radio taxis to get to a part of the city called Los Pinos. The directions I had been given by my next host (Miguel), took me right up to one of the very last houses on top of a multi-coloured mountain. And it was a HUGE house with a view of the entire city! A guy from Germany opened the gate and welcomed me. Then I met a guy from Belgium, a girl from Poland, two French people, two people from Urganda, and then finally I met Miguel and his boyfriend Juan Carlos.

We all ate a meal together for dinner and I couldn´t stop asking Miguel questions as he works as a politician in La Paz. He told me many interesting stories, including the fact that there is a protest in La Paz about once per day. I also mentioned what I saw on the news the other night about the petrol sniffer who was getting bashed on television news. He then told me that they showed also on the news him getting dowsed with petrol and then burned to death!!! He also thinks it is a terrible influence on young people to be showing this... on everyone. He is really truing to help with human rights and the environment. Also with animals, which is obvious as he has about four or five cats.

It was only the next morning, when I went upstairs to the disco tech area (no joke, there are twirling coloured lights, a record player, and even a spa in a huge room with a door leading to a roof where there´s a view of the entire city), that I noticed a large aviary with birds flying around!!

The next day I hung out with the two people from Urganda (Martin and Paula). Martin milks cows and Paula is a social worker who helps young people including drug addicted teenagers. Two guys from Turkey also arrived in the morning and so we all went to a town a few hours away (Tiwanaku) to see some ruins (from the outside of the fence as we all didn´t want to pay to get in).

At the restaurant I went to I ended up having a bit of a fight with the kitchen lady... she was blatantly trying to rip me off. This is one reason I didn´t like Bolivia the first time I came. I found that on the East side people are friendlier, but still, it seems to me many of the locals just hate tourists or anyone who is foreign!! I have felt so many times like I was a piece of dirt and that it is my fault that they don´t have much money! Most people will tell locals one price and then tripple it for foreigners. Even as I was leaving at the bus terminal, the woman selling the bus ticket lied to me about five times.... right to my face!

The bus was $100 Bolivianos and took about 12 or 13 hours with Litoral (but beware this company lies to you about what type of bus you will get).

As the bus headed off towards Peru I spoke to a man and his wife about how happy I was to be leaving Bolivia again.... they were Peruvian and knew exactly what I meant. They said they missed their country because the people were alot warmer there.

I met a doctor on the bus also... he helped me sort out a few medical concerns I have about my throat, which was handy. It was perfect actually because he was specialising in the oesophagus and some other part of the throat!

When I arrived in Arequipa for the second time, I went straight to my friend Yvans house! It was so good to see him again. I went down the street to bye some food to cook a lunch (as Yvan made me breakfast) and was delighted to again be greeted with a smile and a hello in the shop. (so unlike the dreary faces and arrogance I was faced with so many times in and around La Paz and in other nearby parts of Bolivia). I don´t mean to bag this country so hard, but I have honestly have never witnessed so much racism against foreigners in pretty much the whole of South America. I´m glad to have at least met a few fantastic, nice, and friendly Bolivians who were welcoming and warm.

But I´m happy... I´m in Peru again... my favourite country in South America so far!

CAIO MOUSSALEM

simonefrancis — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 15:51:00 GMT

Caio Moussalem was born in a town called Cuiaba in the country side of Brazil, but now lives and studies in Rio de Janeiro. I stayed at his house for a few days through couchsurfing and found him to be a very intelligent and motivated person, who I hope will soon be one of the world´s future leaders. I met him only a day before his 23rd birthday, which coincidentally is also my birthday, and I soon found out that is not all we have in common.

Like myself, Caio tried out many different career paths until he finally found one that he loves. He tried five colleges and studied law, journalism, marketing, law for the second time, and then architecture and urbanism. He is now studying social sciences which involves anthropology, sociology and political science. He is doing this course to find an effective way to help people. Within every study path he had previously tried he was always trying to go political, until one day he just snapped, woke up, and really asked himself what he was doing with his life... he decided he wanted to go for what he really wanted to do. He already felt he was a politician in someway, so he got into social sciences only to instruct himself to know how to effectively change the world around him for the positive.

¨People focus too much on what is happening; it's not that these things are not important, but they are just a mere consequence of how things are being treated.¨ says Caio. ¨More important than what is the reason for something, is why it is... this is the only way to effectively change things.¨

Caio gave me the example of a tree to explain things in further clarity. He said that to be able to stop a tree from growing you can´t just prune it, you need to go for the root. He mentioned that organisations that try to fight corruption in Brazil are surely trying to improve things, but the source will not die this way and there will always be new snakes and new people to corrupt. He believes that this is a makeup system only and that Brazil needs a deeper change... a social change. If the people of Brazil work on the source of things, on the reasons of why things work a certain way, on why they happen, and then act on those things, then a decrease in corruption is sure to take place as the root of the issue is no longer being ignored.

Caio is only in his second semester in his studies, but he has always felt like he wanted to do something purposeful with his life, and not just live for his own purposes... his own things. This was never broad enough for him... he always felt that there was something wider for him to do. Caio is not only intelligent, but also very musically talented as I found out later when he played the guitar and sang a song about why his life is the way it is. The song is called ´My Bedroom door´, and refers to his need to do something for other people, and not just think about himself within his own space and comfort zone. He also told me that his memory under 14 years of age is pretty much a blank! He just remembers thinking how to get out of his room, his temple. He only used to read books, listen to cd´s and think. But he says he can't curse this period of his life because the experience, however solitary it may have been, brought him alot of knowledge.

It is now a goal of Caio to one day be the president of Brazil. He doesn´t want to step over anybody, he wants to do it well, and he also wants to enjoy his life while doing so. He says that we are living in a construction society- you are constructed by your family, environment, culture, country and by yourself. He thinks it is silly for people to ignore politics and believe that they are politically neutral, want no part in it and that the decisions they make has nothing to do with being constructed. "Even if you spend all the days of your life sitting on your couch, you are still being constructed day by day. The options you've got are if you are either going to be conscious or not conscious in this construction process".

Caio travelled and lived alone, out of his comfort zone, to try and stop being a product of his environment for a while. He found it hard to change his thinking and his habits when he was surrounded by people who knew him. He gave me an example of the difficulties associated with someone who wants to change, but can´t because of the surrounding environment; ¨Let´s just say I wanted to stop eating chips, I try, but everyone around me who knows me so well and knows that I like eating chips keeps saying ´Oh, come on, just have some chips, I know you like them´. But if you are in a different environment where no one knows you very well, you can easily change the habits that you would like to- you can change what you want in your life.¨

Caio finished with a few words that I believe everyone in this world should take note of and remember. He said "Choose to be conscious about what you want to be and do, putting both your mind and feelings into everything".

CARNIVAL, THE KISSER, FRIENDS, VIOLENCE AND THE NAKED WOMAN

simonefrancis — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 15:15:00 GMT

Rio kind of became like a second home to me after staying there for about a month. Just about every day in this city brings an adventure.

Carnival was craaaaazy!! You couldn´t go anywhere in the city without running into a party! I went to catch the metro and a bus to the beach with some friends... there was cheering and singing and from somewhere would always come the sound of bongos (or else people slamming their hands on anything they can find to make a beat), and all this in the line up for the metro ticket, waiting for the train, waiting in the line for the transfer bus, and then on the bus!! Once at the beach side road, it would take 40 minutes to walk what normally would take 5-10 minutes... people were wild... the only way to get through the crowd a bit quicker was to jump and dance past everyone. On the sand there were also thousands of people going off to the trucks slowly driving down the street, pumping samba, funk and other random music while people would carry along and sell food and beer. People would pack into city streets all over Rio to see these bloc parties. Some of the best were in Santa Teresa... the outfits were incredible... I even saw a guy dressed as an id card??

But the best party I went to during the carnival was in a petrol station funnily enough! I have never seen anything quite like it!! A cars boot was let open to blast an echoing mix of funk and techno throughout the station while people in crazy costumes sprayed white froth from a can into the air. This was all fun and wonderful until everyone suddenly dispersed and the music cut... a man was being kicked and belted on the ground by another few men.

Just down the street, another cars boot was open and funk was blaring out the speakers, as another samba bloc party closed in from the other side of the street. Something that I saw shocked me. Little girls as young as 8 or 9 were dancing in the street to the funk music... but dancing like prostitutes would, and all with the guidance from elder women. All in bikinis and short shorts, they crawled on the ground like cats and shook their behinds, with men four times their age watching!

At one of the bloc parties I saw a rusta family standing at the tram stop with their dreadlocks and guitars. Just behind them, police got into their cars and left their machine guns resting, pointing out the windows.

At Lapa every Friday night, even without it being Carnival, thousands pack to the streets to dance and party. Under the huge concrete arches of the tram bridge there´s always thumping and drumming, and the wasted alcoholics lay twisted on urine filled stairs while children pick-pocket or work selling gum.

One night in Lapa an elderly woman leisurely walked down the street, naked, scratching her bottom, and passed by the shops, by the clubs, by the people waiting at a bus stop.

But that was only a small incident compared to what I was to witness one sunny morning on the bus on the way to my friends house. Here´s the story: I happen to come across a quite famous man known as ´The Kisser´. He is called the kisser because he used to run onto onto the soccer fields of stadiums in Rio and hug and kiss the players and the coach. The people used to dislike what he did, until later when he became well known which even helped gain publicity for the matches.

So anyway... my friends Daniel and Claudio and I were sitting on the bus when this ´Kisser´ guy began to play with the windscreen wipers!! We were sitting up the back but could still hear the commotion going on and the drivers annoyance. Suddenly the kisser disappeared and then came towards the bus from behind (next to where we were sitting), with a huge boulder... holding it in the air, he was planning to throw it through the window!! The bus couldn´t move anywhere as we were stuck in traffic! I screamed and ran up the front of the bus as I didn´t want glass smashed all over me. Then he disappeared again!! About a minute later he was at the front of the bus, smashing the mirror out with a huge plank of wood! I managed to take a photo of him as the bus finally could drive off, and after he saw me take the photo, he blew me a kiss... I just stood in awe looking back at him.

During the less heart attack times of Rio, I managed to meet some awesome people, some who I shall remain friends with for life. In the house where I first stayed in Rio, I was supposed to only stay a couple of days... a month later I left. This house (Natalia´s and Gabriel´s) and their neighbours (Santiago and Fernando), always had many travellers passing through and staying there for a few nights. I met during this month four french people, a Belgium guy, a Canadian, a person from England, someone from Argentina, two guys from Italy, a couple from India, and also many Brazilian friends of Natalia and Gabriel. I also met a few Brazilian friends including some Leonardos, met with a friend I had met in Tefe, and stayed in the house of local Brazillian´s, Hercules and Daniel, with one of my now best mates Claudio (from Chile). Through Daniel, we met his wonderful sister who had us over for lunches and barbeque's, and we went out dancing with them and their friends. It has certainly been a very multi-cultural experience for me in Rio.

What a great place to have to wait for a new passport to be processed... especially during Carnival!!

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

CASA DO CAMINHO

simonefrancis — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:04:00 GMT

It took me under $5 Reais and about an hour to reach Xerem from Rio De Janeiro. I called Casa Do Caminho from the small town, and as I waited for Lola (one of Casa's volunteers) to come and meet me, I watched as donkeys pulled carts through the traffic filled streets.

After meeting with Lola (who is 24 years old and from Mexico) we walked to the office, which is also called Heppenheim (a German funded orphanage for boys between the ages of 12 and 18). Here, I also met a few other volunteers including Bart, a man from Holland who manages Casa Do Caminho. I also met a group of youthful females, Belem, Sandra, and Marta, who took me around on the back of Toyota truck to pick up food donations from around the town including bread and vegetables, which were then delivered to each of the orphanages. I learnt alot about Casa just from talking to the girls over the duration of the afternoon. Lola, who has been volunteering just about every spring break with projects in Mexico and arrived in Casa for four months ago, told me that she was scared when she first came. Although she was extremely happy, it was difficult for her to communicate in Portuguese, so it was quite a challenge primarily. My first impression of her was that she involves herself fully within all sections of the organisation and puts in 100% of her energy... she also does it with a great big smile! Sandra is from Chile, and has been volunteering at Casa for nearly 6 months, and is about to leave. She drove the truck around and was constantly working... I didn't see her rest for even a moment until much later in the night. Belem, a 28 year old Spanish woman, who was involved in television in her previous job, has been volunteering at Casa for two and a half months, mainly working in the girls home. She mentioned that she finds it very different to live here, and that she has learnt alot about everything.

'It is alot of information at first,' says Belem, 'but after a couple of months, you really start to enjoy the job and become very grateful.'

As Belem works in the 12-18 year old girls home (Casa Cam), she has found a couple of things quite difficult to deal with, including the fact that she must stand by and watch old Brazillian men look at the teenage girls who she cares for. She also must deal with this cultural difference herself, as many men will try to grope her in the streets. Another thing she warned me of, was how many of the children from Casa will try to take advantage of new volunteers by acting very sweetly and trying to get things given to them like money and clothes. But after a while of volunteering, you really get to see the more of the children's personallities. As she lives within the girls home, she likes to get out of Xerem for her one or two days off per week, otherwise she doesn't get enough rest to work to the best of her abilities with the girls.

Marta is from Poland, is 26 years old, and has been volunteering at Casa since the beginning of November 2008, although she previously volunteered here from April to August 2007. She came back because she missed Casa Do Caminho so much... the place, the children and the volunteers. She said that the surrounding environment of one of the orphanages is one of the most beautiful places that she has ever seen! She says that she has learnt alot including how to drive a Toyota truck! Marta feels that coming to Casa is very important for the future of many peoples lives. She also said that you learn how to become much more independent, stay calm and find soloutions to many problems. Marta was studying International relations and Latin American studies, but after 1 year came to Casa as she prefers the Latin lifestyle over the European. Although sometimes it has been difficult for her to stay alone with many of the children when they begin misbehaving, her most challenging point was when she needed to go back home after her first time volunteering at Casa... she said the children were just like her own. But she knew that she would definitely return, just as many of the volunteers who come to Casa do.

During the first evening, these girls all took me for a local frozen fruit drink before taking me to the Casa do Caminho volunteer house (which is also an orphanage for girls and boys between the ages of 4 to 12). I was given a bed in the same room as Sandra and another girl named Raquel, who is from Portugal. That same evening, I met Phillipe (from Portugal), Ines (from Slovenia), Camilla (from Norway) and Laura (from Romania), and we all sat to have a chat, (mostly all in Portuguese) and have an evening snack. I also met another volunteer, Larissa, who is from Brazil and has been at the orphanage since she was 12 years old. She is now 14 and helps out all of the children, volunteers and workers.

In the morning, I woke to find all of the kids and volunteers giving the orphanage a general clean. One of the young girls was very sweet and took me to get some juice and bread for breakfast. All the children in fact were very friendly, and I even had a bit of a breakdance with one of the boys in the hallway. During the cleanup I met one of the full time educators, Marcello, who is a 38 year old man from Switzerland, volunteered in Casa four years ago for eight months. He said that it is very different to the last time he was here as there were only 3 volunteers, and now there are 15. He has been volunteering in Casa this time since May 2008.

I saw Lola again during the morning, busy as usual... she was about to start Plantao, which is when one or two people are designated to looking after the children for a 24 hour period from 9:30am to 9:30am. Sometimes people can have a Plantao twice in a row!

I was soon taken back down to Heppenheim (which has a German name as it is sponsored mainly by this particular German company). There were many boys out the front working on Capoeira moves, and so I just had to join them. I also met Mario (another Brazilian volunteer from Sao Paulo) who was teaching the children Portuguese and English, as school had yet to begin again.

A few of the younger boys from the other orphanage were taken to the dentist and doctor this same morning, and sadly, for one boy, visits to the doctor are a common occurrence as he has a heart condition.

I met three more volunteers at Heppenheim, Mariana (from New Zealand), Beatriz (from Spain), and Brady (from the US). Mariana has been volunteering for 4 months, working in the sustainable organic farm. She says jokingly that only the weeds are the only sustainable thing at the moment! There is not much money, but there really needs to be a full time local Brazillian employee working in the garden, as it it way to difficult for the volunteers to take care of it by themselves. Beatriz is 26 and has been a social worker and educator at Casa for three weeks. She spent 1 year in Spain working with an ONG for disabled people, and also people with learning difficulties, before also doing social work in an England hospital. Her dedication to giving the children much love yet also boundaries was later revealed to me when she described to me the discipline system. Brady, who is 22 years old came to Brazil last summer and only found out about Casa via Internet, upon returning to the US. He has found it really hard to become adjusted due to his lack of Portuguese language skills, especially as he needs to communicate well with the children and volunteers. He also mentioned that it takes the locals of Xerem quite some time to trust in people they don't know.

Mariana and I rode bicycles back up to the volunteer house and orphanage, which took about 40 minutes. Most of the ride was a bumpy dirt track and the views were amazingly beautiful. It was sweltering hot, and so we decided to stop at a river beside a small waterfall and take a quick swim. It was only another 5 minute bike ride back to the orphanage. Back at the house, I saw a tiny, black stray kitten, and found out that no one was going to take care of it, as they couldn´t afford to feed another animal. Many of the children thought it was funny to strangle and mistreat the poor kitten, which I found absolutely appalling and an issue within the orphanage which certainly needs some attention and education. I couldn´t just leave the kitten within this environment and ended up taking her back with me to Rio and found a nice home for it.

Later that same afternoon, Emily (a 25 year old woman who has been volunteering in Casa for 5 months), gave the children a vinegar hair treatment as many were suffering with lice. Then the children watched soap operas (which I feel should be replaced with Animal Planet or Discovery Channel, considering their public education is quite basic), but they really do look forward to this part of the day. The truck came back up to the orphanage, and I met yet another young volunteer named Hilaine, who is from Venezuela, and has been working at Casa for 1 year and 8 months.

Another clean up was taking place in the morning, especially because there was going to be a meeting. Renaldo (the founder) and his wife, also attended the meeting, where many important issues arose such as child behaviour and sexuallity. I thought this was a fantastic and very necessary meeting. During lunch, I spoke with Renaldo, and he told me that the reason why he started the foundation over 26 years ago, was to help poor people who didn´t even have food. He preferred to end up only helping children though as many of the adults were drinking alcohol all the time. He is also a physical educator in Rio De Janeiro, and finds the hardest part of running the organisation, getting enough food donations and also getting to and from Rio all of the time. Even the walk from Xerem takes about an hour and a half as all of the cars keep breaking down because they are so old.

After lunch I went for a walk with Mariana into the sustainable garden, and felt that if more volunteers plus a permanent gardener came in to help, they would be able to use any money donations for other important things such as further education for the children. I was told that buying chickens for eggs and a cow for milk were also future plans for the garden, which I think is a brilliant idea!

I wondered what all of the children would do if Casa Do Caminho didn´t exist... most have already had traumatic past life experiences. Although donations are desperately needed as it is a very poor orphanage, I feel that all of the volunteers and workers open their hearts to the children, which is something these kids truly need. They are also hard workers, and alot more dedicated to their roles than I have seen in many other organisations.

It is absolutely free to volunteer at Casa Do Caminho, but they do require a minimum six month commitment. To find out how to donate or to become a volunteer please visit http://www.casadocaminhobrasil.org/

AHHHH BRASIL

simonefrancis — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:01:00 GMT

Ahhhh Brasil (and yes, it is spelt correctly), a country where there is no lack of different dance styles, everyone says ´hello´ to strangers, and soap operas with vampires and people with supernatural powers are extremely popular. It is a place which seems so civilised in the way that people enjoy their lives without working themselves to death and really take advantage of their time off, but then also so uncivilised- men grope women in the streets... and I was shocked to see that when this happened to me, other men who were standing around just watched in silence! I guess it makes me appreciate many Australian men now, as even the smallest of blokes would (in general) stand up for a woman and tell the other guy to back off!

I have found Rio De Janeiro, quite a different experience. It seems to be a place where people are both of extreme happiness, and yet also extreme arrogance. I shall give the following personal experiences as examples, although many foreigners I have met are also feeling these very same vibes. After spending a great final day in Sao Paolo with my friend Ricardo, who took me to the park and to a Samba School to watch the Carnival rehearsals, I decided to stay the rest of my wait for my passport in Rio. And what a pain this passport has been to get... such a pain that I am not even going to say one more word about it!! I recommend anyone who loses their Australian passport to apply for a new on in Argentina! So anyhow, I get to Rio, I get on the bus, and the first thing I see is the bus ticket woman smiling dancing in her chair, listening to music from her headphones! She greeted me with such kindness and bubbliness that I felt that all of the people of Rio were going to be just about as kind... I was wrong. About a week later, I was on the metro train and people were packed in like sardines. When the metro stopped, everyone barged out of the doors, and although it wasn´t where I had to get off, dragged me with them out the door. I was about to loose my balance and fall, when one man, twice the size of me (who definitely had enough space to walk past me) saw that I was struggling, but instead of helping me, he ran and barged into me with a great laugh!! I was disgusted by his lack of manners and cold heart, but at least one other girl on the train gave me a reassuring look as if to say ´Yes, he´s a bloody rude idiot!´

I have met some great people in Rio now, including Natalia and Gabriel, who I got in touch with through a friend of mine who I met in Sao Paulo. They put me up in their house for more than a week, and although I didn´t have the faintest idea of who they were or what they did in life, or even what they looked like, I have ended up making some great friends, who are also in the film industry! I have met one of Natalia´s friends Ada, who I will also soon be staying with for a while, and a few other couchsurfers and random Brazilians also... one who is a publisher, another who is a musician. It is so easy to meet people here! Especially on the beach, where it is always jam packed on the weekends and there are always rows of groups playing at their soccer skills at the waters edge.

I am really loving Rio!!

A NIGHT IN A FAVELA,

simonefrancis — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 20:15:00 GMT

I finally got off the boat from Manaus to Belem! A couchsurfing host named Fabien picked me up and took me to his apartment, which is located in the middle of the city in a nice, high rise building apartment. He spoilt me insanely over the next few days, which was certainly a relief after the boat trip! He took me to a wonderful restaurant, and shouted me a all you can eat, delicious buffet!! He wouldn´t take no for an answer! Then we went to a park where there were lots of birds and butterflies.

The next day, while Fabien was at work, I decided to make him a pasta dish to make up for his generosity, but when he came home, he dragged me out for yet another meal... just as nice, and was like a mix of traditional Brazillian and European food. The chocolate dessert just melted in my mouth!! I had totally gone from cat food smelling tuna, to like five star dining!!! Fabien was even nice enough to help me out with much advice for the Nomadic Hands project )www.nomadichands.com).

It took me about 50 hours by bus and cost me $490 Real to get down to Sao Paulo from Belem. I was happy upon arrival, as my mate Jerome (who I travelled with in Peru for two months, about four months ago) was there to pick me up from the metro station and take me to his couchsurfer's (Bruno's) house to stay.

Jerome also decided to give me an early birthday present and so sent me on a weekend of white water rafting with a whole lot of couchsurfers!! Most of the people who went were Brazillian, and so I really got to practice my Portuguese while meeting a whole lot of new friends including two now awesome mates Ricardo and Raoni.

The reason I came to Sao Paulo was to get a new passport (as mine had been stolen months ago in Peru). Unfortunately when I took all of my paperwork to the Embassy, they would not accept one of my guarantor forms (that had been sent from Australia), due to the fact my friend had written in black pen over blue pen on the form!! So I am still here... waiting for another to arrive!

But the good thing about all of this waiting is that I have also met many couchsurfers who are doing great things for social and environmental change... like Adriana (who is working on food organics) and Skip (who is working with non-profit organisations). I also stayed with Skip at a friend Eduardo's house for a few nights, and was taken to his university to see what it was like. Another couchsurfer I had been emailing (Dirk) volunteers in a favela, and invited me to go and have a look at the work they are doing.

Dirk has been volunteering at Monte Azul (Blue Mountain favela) ( http://www.monteazul.org.br/ ) for the past six months, because he wanted to help people. When I arrived at Monte Azul, he was sick and couldn't leave the volunteer house, but instead sent another volunteer (Cristoph Rust) to show me around. Christoph, who is twenty years old and has been working here for four months, came to volunteer for a year instead of doing military service in Germany. He came with the help of an organisation called Freunde der Erziehungskunst Rudolf Steinen, and teaches violin, gives English lessons, and helps in the kindergarten and in many other areas.

Cristoph kindly showed me around the favela and showed me all of the wonderful things that the organisation (that has the same name as the favela) Monte Azul has done over the past thirty years since it was first founded by a German woman, Ute Craemer. I met with Ute, who also said she was working on another project called Alianca Pela Infancia ( http://www.aliancapelainfancia.org.br/ ), which helps children. Christoph showed me the workshop, the library, the bakery, the kindergarten, the hospital, and the kitchen (which I did some lunch preparation in the next day). He also took me to Centro Culture Monte Azul, where there are capoeira, music, painting, language and dance classes, and also special activities for the disabled.

I was then taken by Christoph, to Carminha's house for coffee and biscuts. Carminha is a woman living in the Favela with her three teenage daughters Brena, Brenda and Bruna. It's quite interesting that Bruna actually has a boyfriend called Bruno too! She is very happy in the favela, and said to me how much better it is now since the organisation Monte Azul (which she now works with) came. She told me how it used to be alot poorer and how she used to live in a wooden house on the river. Her house now is quite nice, and even has a television (on which we watched a movie about a favela in Rio later that evening after she invited me to stay the night on the couch).

Before staying the night at Carminha's house, I went for an hour or two to visit the volunteer house and say hello to Dirk and all of the other volunteers. There were quite a few volunteers, and at one stage, after popcorn and cheese on bread, I could hear about 5 languages being spoken at the same time, in one small room... English, German, Spanish, Portuguese and Japanese!!

On the way back down to Carminha's house, I saw many open garages with Evangelists preaching inside. I ended up finding out that if people want to go and watch this they must pay 10% of their wages!!! Although I was in a favela, it was much safer than walking the main streets of Sao Paulo at night, because everyone knows everybody in the area. We did however walk past a young boy of only about twelve years of age, who had become involved in drug trafficking!

When Christoph and I arrived back at Carminha's house, we played a game of Badminton out on the street with her daughters and Bruno. I then went into the house again, and was offered first a nice meal, and then a comfy couch to sleep on. The next day she even put corn-rows in my hair!!

Carminha mentioned to me that she had looked at moving into a house outside of the favela, but said that she felt much safer here where she has met alot of honest people. She first moved to Monte Azul from the state of Salvador with her husband because he had a heart condition and could only get operated on in Sao Paulo (SP). Since then, her husband has moved to another area in SP with another woman, and Carminha re-married to a German man. Before she came however, everybody from her old home up north had said to her that she will either have a good life with money and be successful in SP, or she will either not have a chance and die in a favela.

But with her connection to Monte Azul, and free food (as she works for the organisation) free education for her daughters, and free medical expenses, she believes that she has a very good life.

Christoph came to pick me up the next morning and took me to the kitchen where we made pizza bases, before eating lunch and then visiting another house in the favela where a disabled girl is living. I went to the bathroom upstairs, and was quite surprised to see a turtle wandering about, trying to enter the room that had the bathroom after I had left!?! We took the young girl for a stroll in her wheel chair, and just before leaving the favela, I visited the hospital to see pictures of what Monte Azul used to look like... alot poorer.

Volunteers are currently needed at Monte Azul so please email international@monteazul.org.br if you are interested in helping or visit http://www.monteazul.org.br/ for further information.

Alianca Pela Infancia (http://www.aliancapelainfancia.org.br/) is in need of donations.

CHRISTMAS AND NY´S IN THE AMAZON

simonefrancis — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 21:15:00 GMT

Crossing the border into Brazil from Venezuela was simple enough, until I went to exchange some money on the Brazillian side, and realised I had completely forgotten that everyone here speaks Portuguese! Luckily, Manfred (from Peace Villages Foundation) was there to help me a bit, as he needed to go to Boa Vista to get a translation done for his daughter who will soon be attending school in Brazil.

The buses weren´t too long, but really expensive! We arrived in Boa Vista in the morning and my bus to Manaus wasn´t until the evening, and so I spent the day trying to get money out of about six different banks, and fifty different teller machines around the city! I at least got to walk through a park on my boring way, where a man gave me a mango he had pulled from a tree that I couldn´t reach.

By 10pm I was solo again, and heading to Manaus for $100 Real (about $50USD). I happen to be the lucky winner on the seat next to the toilet for 12 hours on the bus!! It smelt so strong of pine o clean and poo within the first 5 minutes, that I´m glad I decided to complained. The driver ended up letting me sit next to him up front! But because of his cigarette smoke blowing in my face, the fact that I had to watch him throw butts out the window every two minutes, and because the seat didn´t go back past a 90 degree angle, I decided to go upstairs again, take a not yet filled seat, and pretend I was asleep when new passengers came on board... it worked!

Francisco (my new couchsurfing host), picked me up from the bus station and took me to his house where his parents live, before dashing off to work. His mum and dad cooked as good as in a five star restaurant (not that I really know what that´s like). The shower though, was my highlight for the first day. I then met Francisco´s sister Sanaia, her husband Neto, and their three year old son (also named Neto).

Because Francisco worked alot, I met up with another couchsurfer named Igor, who is a Mormon and sings in a band called Evil Eye!!??! He was a very funny bloke who took me along to the school where he teaches English, and had me as one of his subjects! He mentioned when we first met that he likes to take couchsurfers to the markets when they need to shop for clothes. But after about two hours with me bargain hunting, and finally one jacket, which I desperately needed for the freezing buses, he told me it would be a challenge to get him to ever go shopping with me again!

It was the end of December, and luckily for me, Francisco and his family invited me to spend Christmas and New Years with their whole family in Tefe (a town west of Manaus, deeper into the Amazon, which took two days by boat to get to and cost $100 Real).

We stayed for the next week or two in his sister´s (Neila´s) house, but the first two days I was stuck to the bed... ill, with stabbing pains in my stomach from the boat´s food poisoning techniques.

Christmas eve consisted of 30 or 40 of Francisco´s family members gathered in a room, giving out secret Santa gifts, and also a delightful speech (about the person the present was for). I managed to paint a few Chrissy cards for the family, which looked like a four year old´s masterpiece! Food and drinks followed, and then Francisco took me for a ride around the town on a motor bike to see all of the families partying out the front of each of their houses. Later on we ended up at a Fo-Ho (type of Brazilian music) concert, where there were thousands of people dancing and chilling out. I made some friends that night, including Adriano (nicknamed Mau Mau... not for any reasons one may guess), who is best friends with a monkey named Niko, and sings in a rock band. He showed me alot of the town on his bike.

Christmas day was a dream! Most of the people I had met the previous night were all friends, and had gathered beside a river pool, which was surrounded by lush green, Amazonian forest. The craziest thing though, was meeting an American guy (Lucas), who was just as shocked as I to see another foreigner. His host (Lilian) and he, will meet up with me later in Sao Paulo or Rio.

There was a house party somewhere new, nearly every day. New Years came, and thousands of people (practically the whole town) gathered along the river-side to watch fireworks and bands play. Adriano´s band was playing, and they invited me to come up onto the stage with them and take photos. Francisco, who I found was also very musically talented, ended up filling in for one of the band´s guitarists who couldn´t play that night.

There was an accident that night. One of Francisco´s cousins was hit my a motor bike, and was flown to Manaus with a broken leg. I was hardly surprised by this though. There had been at least two other of the same type of accidents over the past week, one which happened out the front of the families house. I first heard tires screeching, a loud thud, and then a woman scream! People gathered around a man who was lying on the asphalt, covered in blood. No one had the faintest idea what to do, and when I tried to get my friend to translate for me so I could administer first aid, he just looked blankly at me! I explained the need for a cloth with applied pressure, but nothing registered and too many people in the crowd were in shock. Thankfully an ambulance came within a few minutes, and it was good that the man maintained consciousness. Not one person had a clue about first aid!

A two day boat trip back to Manaus, (which unlike the last time, didn´t see me sleeping with another person in a hammock two inches above my head), followed by another four day boat trip to Belem, saw me missing Tefe and the family. But holidays were just about over!

By the time I was on the boat, going to Belem, my language was Portospanglish. I met a German medical student named Neils, and when we were chatting on the boat (that was packed so full of people that the captain was stopped by marines)another English speaking, bearded fellow joined in the conversation. His name (which I only found out, without realising, six hours later) was Steffany. He had just ridden a motorbike from LA, down through Central America, and was now on this boat with his bike. We both didn´t realise that you had to pay for food on this boat (as it´s normally included), and we didn´t have much money, so we went up onto the roof and ate biscuits with tuna (that had been at the bottom of my over-heated bag for at least a month and smelt like cat food), and video´d our progress with his video camera. He also video´d my running on hands race and break dancing efforts with some of the local kids, until my un-exercised body finally gave up on me.

We then went to search for a hammock for Steffany as he didn´t buy one before getting on the boat (due to procrastination). A nice woman from the infirmary gave him one, and then also me one, which was fantastic because mine is pitiful! Another man (Julieremy), who was talking with the woman, turned to us and started chatting. Within about ten minutes we learnt that Julieremy had driven exactly the same way as Steffan´s motorbike journey! In the same ten minutes we were offered a locked room for our belongings, the key to this room, and also a key to a private bathroom!!

After this multitude of very happily received gifts, we hung our hammocks downstairs in an actual space!! (probably where your not supposed to, but the boat was so overcrowded that all hammocks were grossly touching and entangling. A hammock covered buttocks in the face was not an uncommon occurrence! Steffany and I ended up moving later up one floor, where we put my other hammock in between us and put our small bags in it. We did this to pretend that we had a baby, so that we would have more room to sleep and so that no one would squash in and take up all the space. We called our fake baby ´Baggles´!!

Day one was a day of looking at dolphins, day two Steffany and I spent time filming the most ridiculous comedy act around the boat, and somehow on day three I ended up babysitting about six kids who saw me painting, and decided they wanted to as well!

I wrote a poem about the boat experience, just to give people a better image of what it is like:

I´m nervous, shy
not quite sure why,
while swinging light
in a hammocks plight,
as locals lute
by tucuma fruit
on this two deck,
open, shabby boat

First town stops
the crowd tops,
like chick-peas canned
there´s urgent demand,
for a sleeping place
they rob my spaceon this two deck,
open, shabby boat

There´s an engine squealof grinding steal,
food bags stacked
near luggage packed,
hanging towels
and poisoned bowelson this two deck,
open, shabby boat

Bugs fly round
the shoe-filled ground,
cobwebs lace
a floaties place,
a stench below
is hard to know
on this two deck,
open, shabby boat

Like a refugee
a thousand and me,
at five out of bed
in the hope of being fed,waiting in line
for a bread-butter dineon this two deck,
open, shabby boat

I´m hungry, I´m tired
like those who are hired
in kitchen and deck
and in bathrooms a wreck,
there´s little to do
and a rising of pooon this two deck,
open, shabby boat

Trapped on the boat
like a prison afloat,
waiting an hour
for a brown-water shower,
It´s land I seek
for I´ve sailed a weekon this two deck,
open, shabby boat

PEACE VILLAGES FOUNDATION (FUNDACION ALDEAS DE PAZ)

simonefrancis — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 00:42:00 GMT

I met with Manfred Mönnighoff in a café in Santa Elena. He drove me with his 6 year old daughter Nilaya, twenty minutes up a bumpy dirt road, through some beautiful emerald hills, to Foundation Peace Villages. It was a short but fantastic trip, full of nature. Arriving at the foundation, I saw horses, which I was given the opportunity to ride in the afternoon through forests and sand pits until the sun came out, and I met with Manfred´s wife Kenia, and another man Nilton who takes care of the horses. Everyone was warm and welcoming, and I felt completely relaxed after my long and tiring bus trip.

Unfortunately, because it is so close to Christmas, all of the volunteers have gone home or travelling for the holidays. One female volunteer though, was placed (the same morning that I arrived), in a village deep in the Savannah. She will be living with a community for the next three days, helping to run a personal growth workshop for disadvantaged youths.

Peace villages was created by Manfred, who has had about thirty years of experience volunteering all around the world for over one hundred organisations. He began volunteering in Germany when he was only 20 years old, and when he turned 25 he began a construction firm. He worked in this firm for the next ten years, but continued volunteering part time. When he was 35 he finished his work and used his savings to continue volunteering and helping people.

Manfred began his work in Merida, where he also met his wife Kenia. Together, they left Merida in 2000, to go and live in a shanty town in Caracas, where they became accustomed to being robbed at least once a week. They spent their time running classes in spare rooms that priests and other people could offer them. They ran physical and occupational therapy classes for handicapped children, in which they needed to hire body guards to protect the therapists who entered the dangerous town. They also worked with street children in parks, giving group and individual therapy sessions to help release their traumatic past and re-connect with their parents. Another workshop they ran was for young pregnant mothers (some who were only 12 years old). They would teach the mothers about nutrition and how to cook, and also helped them to be psychologically prepared for their future with their child.

In April 2002, President Chavez was taken captive for a few days during a coup etat and his government toppled only to be reinstated a few days later. Supposedly the American CIA was involved, and civil unrest broke out. When Manfred and Kenia (who was at this stage three of four months pregnant) looked out their window, they could see light streams from gun-fire. Violence and unrest increased dramatically in the aftermath of the coup and so they decided to leave. They left their aid programs in the hand of local neighbourhood churches and went to the bus station with all of their things and asked where the furthest village from Caracas was. Someone told them there was a bus leaving to Santa Elena, and so they hopped on and went to start a new life there.

In 2003, in Santa Elena, Manfred used the last of his savings to buy property in which a foundation could be based and infrastructure could be incorporated. He and Kenia began attracting international volunteers and started a handicapped school that same year called ¨Tucusito (Hummingbird), which the volunteers previously decorated, and where music, ceramic, English and computer classes were opened.

They then began a mobile school for youth at risk. Many parents work as gold-miners, and so aren’t around to take care of their children. The kids spend their time just hanging out on the streets and are at risk of falling into the hands of people like drug traffickers and delinquents. The mobile school offers an interesting and educational outlet. It runs on wheels and converts into boards, where up to ten children can learn at the same time. They are educated about the alphabet, health care, children’s rights, sexuallity, maths, science and even theatre. The mobile school also helps the kids to learn how to read and write, and is packed with games and puzzles, which helps to stimulate their mental growth.

Conservation Ambiental is another program run by Peace Villages and its volunteers, where the children help to clean parks, plant trees and repair equipment (such as play equipment) in schools. Pupils learn about the environment, and are always involved in each project so that a culture of volunteerism and cultural exchange is created within their generation.

Skills training for special needs children (eg. for handicapped, low income and at risk kids) is another program here. The children learn how to make wooden toys, which they then give away to kindergarten and day care centres. Peace Villages also sends assistant volunteer workers to the day care centres in Santa Elena and offers children toys and play sessions. The centres are very poor, most have no toys, and children are bored and fight all the time. Because the Venezuelan caretakers are underpaid and there is always a television within the centres, they don’t really care about the kids and don’t offer them much attention.

As well as helping children with education, Peace Villages runs a therapeutic horse riding program, where special needs children who are either at risk, have learning difficulties, behavioural problems, or who are handicapped, learn to ride horses. There was also a radio program run by the foundation, that started two years ago but recently had to close due to lack of funds. It was run each day for an hour and raised parenting and educational issues.

Peace Villages is financed solely by the volunteers who come here. Prices to come and stay are very modest and range to suit the type of volunteer experience that you are in search of. There are options to stay with host families, in hotels and hostels, or within a cooperative living setting (which includes all meals) at the foundations grounds in a beautiful setting just outside the village on a small hill surrounded by savannah and rainforest. There is an open book within the foundation and also online, where you can see exactly where the money you give is going. The money is used for things such as maintenance, administration, and salaries, accommodation and full board for the volunteers and for full time Venezuelan head teachers (one for each program).

Because of the economic crisis volunteers may soon be prevented or slowed down from coming here.

In 2004, the first volunteers began coming to Peace Villages and Manfred has since been conducting a social experiment about co-operative living. He has built up an international community focussing on the common interest of service and outreach. Every week a program is run where the volunteer decide where and when they work, and how many hours they would like to commit to volunteering. They can work for an hour per week or fourty, whatever they choose (there is always plenty of work)- but they are never judged. This is because they have already made a huge contribution by coming to the foundation and paying a donation. They can even work on one program, and then swap to others, giving the volunteer a wide range of different experiences. Gardening and planting is also an option, as well as working in the town hospital or volunteering and living side by side with indigenous Pemon host family in a remote aboriginal community.

Volunteers can spend their week climbing mountains and seeing sights, and can also reduce the amount of weekly hours they initially decided to work if need be. It is not about the amount of hours worked, but about making minimum commitments and sticking to them. The last thing that Manfred wants is for the volunteers to burn out and not be able to give their full attention and loving support to the children.

Peace Villages has a great energy and is a very liberal place to volunteer at. People cook and clean together and spread tasks weekly and evenly on a rotating basis. It is a place of respect where people take care of each other; people think more about others than themselves here. People of all ages work here, from families with eight year old children, to eighty year old men and women.

Manfred feels the best part of his job is meeting so many different people from all over the world and living in a community style environment with like-minded people of all ages and walks of live. He is doing what he’s doing because he wants to help the vulnerable people in society like young children and at risk or special need youth.
I feel that Peace Villages is a wonderful place for volunteers to come. The surrounding nature enhances the happy and relaxing atmosphere, while the liberal, yet responsible approach to volunteering creates a true feeling of freedom. Peace Villages foundation provides an original and extremely pleasant environment to live and volunteer in… perhaps one of the best I have come across!

To volunteer at Peace Villages or to donate please visit www.peacevillages.org or email info@peacevillages.org

There are fantastic opportunities for people with strong organizational and multi-lingual skills, who have had substantial volunteer and cultural experiences, to work as program initiators and leaders throughout many countries, with full training and support from Peace Villages.

Manfred is also looking for a board of Venezuelan directors for Peace Villages, before he begins yet another Peace Villages site to help other children in the north of Brazil.

LOCA WOMAN IN SANTA ELENA

simonefrancis — Sun, 14 Dec 2008 00:37:00 GMT

From dead dogs on the sides of the roads, to Iguanas and monkeys in trees, to long conversations with crazy people in the streets, I can say that my time in Venezuela has been quite interesting.

I spent about four days in Puerto Ordaz- Cuidad Guayana (which took me 8 or 9 hours to get there and 32 Bolivares with Sitssa- a bus company offering much cheaper ticket prices) with Blas, a guy whose passion is to create awareness about the power of the media that big corporations use. He is also a photographer, but there is no work in Ciudad Guayana for this… he tells me that most people just work in factories their whole lives because it is such an industrial area. He is leaving for Spain soon to see what opportunities arise. I stayed in his apartment with his sister, sisters boyfriend, and his cousin, and the best part of my stay was when they took me to a wonderful park that was full of animals and had a pretty big waterfall at the end of it.

As I was leaving to take another 8 or 9 hour, 36 Bolivar Sitssa bus to Santa Elena, I met a man at the terminal who told me of what was going on in his life at the moment. I am going to re-tell his story now as he seemed quite sincere, but keeping in mind, without knowing facts, it is only a story… nothing more. He said that he used to live in Valencia, Venezuela with his family, after buying a house. But three months later, ten or more drug users (who he did not know) entered the house with knives and guns and robbed him; and not of just his things, but his entire house! Him, his wife, and their 4 year old son were left out on the street. He went to the police, but because he did this, the druggos came after him, and now want to murder him, so he had to leave Valencia. He has no idea how they found out, but think they must have bribed the police.

The next day in Santa Elena, I was told yet another story from a woman about her family being murdered… but I realized soon enough that the woman was crazy when she began telling me that nuclear coded clouds from the Argentinean government rained down and hit her teeth, eyes, and head, and killed her family over the past few decades by forcing them to swallow nuclear clouds, which bloat stomaches. She said she watched as her family was murdered by the coded clouds, and that she is now on the run away from them around the continent.

CHAVEZ SPEAKS WHILE KIDS DIE OF CANCER

simonefrancis — Tue, 9 Dec 2008 15:46:00 GMT

Cumana was a great place to visit, as it was full of life and had some pretty nice beaches. I spent 60 Bolivares and about 8 hours getting there. I was very surprised… happy, when the taxi driver stopped on the way to my friend Milagros` (her name means miracle) house to buy me breakfast!

I had no idea until Milagros (an English teacher) told me, that President Chavez was there to give a speech that day. He was there to congratulate the new man in charge of the Sucre province, Enrique Maestre, who is on the same side as Chavez. Milagros told me that there was a campaign about a month previously from this government, which was supposedly created to help clean the city. 400,000 Bolivares was given to each person that helped clean the city for a day (keep in mind that this campaign only ever runs around election times). I thought that this was a great idea, until I went and saw Chavez give his speech, and realised, when I saw all of the rubbish littered throughout the streets everywhere, that the environment is not a major priority of this government (especially considering that it costs only $2 US for about 40 litres of petrol… not kidding).

There were hundreds and hundreds of people crowding in the streets wearing red clothing and hats, and waving flags and chanting like the president was some sort of super-star. Chavez sure keeps himself in the public eye… he's everywhere!! On a wide variety of television channels talking for hours, on the screen in bus terminal waiting rooms, and in posters on just about every street corner here. When does he find the time to work?? Perhaps he should find some time to help delinquents here… according to the news here, homicides have risen, and there have been more than 14,000 in the last ten years.

Just before I had gone to Chavez`s speech, when walking back from a lovely beach close by, a taxi pulled up next to me on the main road, even though I didn't signal for one. It can get somewhat annoying when taxis constantly stop to try to get business when you are obviously not interested in catching the cab. So the taxi had pulled up a little ahead and then began reversing towards me. Suddenly, another car screeched on the breaks, did a 180 degree turn and slid into the taxi, smashing out a few windows and putting huge dents in both cars. I could see no one was hurt, (as I had the best view on the entire main road), so I continued walking… feeling awkward about the whole situation, as the driver had obviously stopped for me.

Many of my days in and around Cumana were interesting and relaxing though, apart from listening to the evangelists, who would chant and sing for hours every night about god, right out the front of Milagros´house! I love how people in Venezuela just chill out in the streets with their friends, and dance to music that was blasting out from their car stereos. Milagros and another couple who were staying in her house (Elena and John), went for a trip to Mochima, a white sand beach with clear, blue water. I also had many laughs with Milagros, now a good friend, who I hope to meet again one day in the future.

On my last day in Cumana, I went to see Milagros` sister (Milanjel) who was volunteering at a fun day for children with cancer. She was dressed as a clown, and was ready to perform (with many others who were dressed up in costumes) in a play to help bring smiles to the children's faces. She told me that she and others do this every year, in any place they can such as McDonalds or a church with the help of Fundacion Niños con Cancer (Foundation Kids with Cancer). Milanjel also said that there needs to be a hospital specifically for these children, as there is only one floor for them in one hospital in Cumana, and there is not enough space for all of the kids. I watched as Santa also came into the church and gave all of the sick children presents. This is such a wonderful idea, as sometimes the children aren't able to get given presents from their parents, as their parents are poor, and sadly, sometimes can't even afford medicines for their dying child.

LIVING WITH A HITCH-HIKER

simonefrancis — Tue, 2 Dec 2008 19:15:00 GMT

It´s really just hit me how politically intense and dangerous this country really is.

As I was leaving San Cristobal on the bus, while being video´d in my seat (as they do here and in many other Latin American countries for security reasons), everybody on the bus began laughing and chatting about a few women who had had their seats double booked by the bus companie´s office. Nothing like making light of an annoying situation!! After taking this bus from San Cristobal to Maracay, which cost me 65 Bolivares and took me 12 1/2 hours, I took another bus to Palo Negro, a smaller town about 20 minutes outside of Maracay.

In Palo Negro I met Rafael, a cool guy who works for the mayor here, and has been planning, for the past six years, to hitch-hike his way around the world to 78 countries in 5 continents. http://venexpedition.blogspot.com/ I´m glad I have had the chance to stay with him, because he is just about to leave to begin his journey, in which he will also be visiting many NGO´s including Unicef and Greenpeace. His mum, dad and sister also seem pretty great, and have welcomed me warmly into their home and culture.

Palo Negro can be quite a dangerous area. There are many poor people here also, living in tin houses, and a bit further out in the rubbish tips, people live in cardboard houses. Rafael wouldn´t take me to the area of cardboard houses, as it is way too dangerous... it is like running into the arms of robbery. There is no NGO or government support at all for the people living in these areas... they have basically just been forgotten about.

On the first day in Rafael's house, he told me some pretty wild stories...

When Rafael was ten years old, his brother found a snake on the street near their house. His brother then told Rafael to go and tell their neighbour, who supposedly liked animals. When Rafael walked into his neighbours house, a lion jumped out and attacked him!! He went to hospital, but the doctors wouldn´t believe him, and so he had to tell them... ok... yes, it was a dog. I asked Rafael if the lion was still there, but he said that a few years after this incident, the neighbours wife was bitten in the stomache, and so he gave it away to a zoo.

Rafael also told me about a military fude that happened around his house in 1992, when he was 13 years old, and which nearly broke out into a civil war. Soldiers, tanks, fighter-jets, guns and grenades filled the streets for a day... many people were killed. One of his neighbours across the street was even killed by a helicopter shooting bullets! His whole family lay on the floor of the house for over an hour, scared to bits. The soldiers where those of the government and of those of Chavez (who was a rebel, up until 1998 when he became the president of Venezuela). This fude can be watched at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyXRTiVDMZ0

When I woke up and went to eat breakfast (arepa, a typical dish) in the kitchen, Rafael told me that something terrible had happened. His work mates were in the office until 6pm the previous night, and someone called the military thinking that they were robbing the office, as people normally finish work at 4pm here. The military went to the office, stole some documents, and arrested Rafael´s friends and threw them in jail.

I can sometimes hear the Russian strategic nuclear bombers that arrived only a month ago in Venezuela, and are only three minutes walk away from Rafaels house. Chavez plans to fly one of the planes himself... so frikin scary!! To see this go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pfc2qxkF84c&feature=related

Rafael took me to Choroni to see some of the beautiful beaches, which are surrounded by forest and mountains. To get there, we took a rainbow coloured bus, which wound through mountainous rainforest for about two hours. The bus blared reggaton and salsa music the whole way until we reached the terminal. We then took a boat to another beach and camped there for the night, before hopping on the back of a truck full of locals, which took us to another town in the jungle that was filled with brightly coloured houses. This trip relaxed me a bit, as there is so much political tension in the big cities... except for when the locals caught a huge shark from the nice warm water, after Rafael had told me there were no sharks!

If you want to follow Rafael´s journey as he hitch-hikes around the world and visits many ONG´s on the way, visit http://venexpedition.blogspot.com/

UNI´S VIEWS, AND POLITICAL FIESTAS

simonefrancis — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 19:22:00 GMT

I arrived in San Cristobal and was picked up by Rodolfo, a young university student. After arriving at his house and meeting his mother, father, sister, and other family members (and given my own room with a private bathroom). Rodolfo showed me around the town for a bit, and I thought one of the most interesting things that I saw, was how people here advertise for a party... they write when and where the fiesta is, with white shoe polish, on their car´s back window.

Rodolfo later took me to eat a free lunch at his university (Universidad de Tachiera), as it was students day in Venezuela, which is just as important as mothers day here. When I walked into the dining hall there was music pumping, and hundreds of youthful faces. Suddenly many of the boys began whistling very loud, and I was wondering what was going on. Rodolfo explained to me that all of the men were whistling at a girl who was wearing a skirt, and that this is what always what happens when a girl wears a skirt or shorts!

I was happy to find out that all of the public universities in Venezuela are free for people to attend. Students are also given free food and can even get free housing in many schools! I wish Australia had free universities!

Over the course of my stay in San Cristobal, I was also taken for trips to other small towns close by. I had met a guy called Samuel, who is a paragliding instructor, and he took me to a place called Perebeca for a free gliding experience, which was fantastic, because I got a great overhead view of the beautiful environment below. I think that paragliding is such a great recreational sport, as you are able to view the world from above, and it doesn´t pollute or damage the environment in any way!

I had also been taken to Perebeca previously by Rodolfo and his sister, and shown around the quaint, multi-coloured, shop filled streets. They also gave me a drink called Calentao to try... which tasted so repulsive, I nearly threw up!! It wasn´t the only thing that nearly made me throw up though... a few days later, Rodolfo and I were driving though the streets and stopped near some garbage, where we saw about fifty vultures picking at a dead dog that had been stuffed into a black garbage bag! But I was shown some live and beautiful animals at the botanic gardens, where Rodolfo also took me during my stay with him and his family.

As the elections were on in Venezuela, Rodolfo took me to one of the electoral campaigns, where Cesar Perez was running as the oppositional candidate. It was at night, there were flags, boom boxes everywhere, a band, dancing and fireworks!! Not bad for a political party... more interesting than any other political gathering I´ve seen in my life! But there was one thing that I didn´t quite agree with, as per usual, and that was the sale of animals in the streets during the campaign. I'm sure the kittens and puppies that were on the sides of the streets in cages, were terribly frightened from all of the noise, and probably sick from the pollution! On Sunday, Cesar Perez, ended up winning the election for the Tachira Provence.

COLOMBIAN CULTURE

simonefrancis — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 16:52:00 GMT

The past few weeks here in Colombia have been such a huge cultural experience because I have really felt like one of the locals. Families here have taken me into their houses and treated me like one of their own. I have been given plenty of hugs, gifts and typical foods and have been introduced to many extended family members. It really saddens me that I have been told from so many of my Colombian friends who want to travel, that it is really difficult for them to get visas to do so. I really feel that it´s not only the Colombians who are missing out, but also the rest of the world, which doesn´t get to experience enough of the amazing Colombian culture. People are so friendly here, so warm, and I´m happy to say it´s part of their culture to party! I´m certain that families all around the world could benefit alot from learning about a close Colombian familie´s way of life.

Tania´s mother got me in touch with her brother, who invited me to the Juan Cristobal Martinez High School to watch class presentations on conservation of the environment, which he was a judge at. The groups of 16 year olds spoke about different environmental issues such as recycling, the use of petrolium, and water contamination. I only wish I was able to understand Spanish really well, as the presentations weren´t the most colourful. I thought it was a great idea for the kids to be learning about the environment, but I feel they would have benefited from the excersise immensly if it had been alot more creative... I nearly fell nodded off a few times, and I saw one of the girls up the back in deep sleep by the end of it.

When I left Tania´s house, her mum kept looking at me with disapointment because I was leaving. She had given me enough hugs to last a year, which I was of course more than happy to receive. I had met grandmas, cousins, uncles, aunties, nieces and nephews and girlfriends and boyfriends of family members. Nearly every day I would meet another one of the family who would always say hello to me like they had known me for years! I loved staying there, but I decided to stay with one more family before leaving Bucaramanga. I ended up staying with a guy the same age as me named Jose, his brother Sergio and his mum Yolanda. I was introduced to Jose´s uncle (who is younger than he), and his grandmother who has ten children!! I had alot of laughs with them, especially when we went out for lunch one day and ate chicken with plastic gloves (as most Colombians do).

The night before I left Bucaramanga, Tania came over to Jose´s house with her boyfriend Alex, and met Jose and his family. I´m glad they got to meet as they got along well and I´m sure they will meet up again. I was sad to leave Bucaramanga and the family I had just started to get to know really well. Even when I got on the bus to leave, there they were, waving goodbye into the bus´ windows, (which were tinted so you couldn´t actually see in), until I was far away down the street.

I was heading to San Cristobal Venezuela, but when I got to Cucuta, I was very tired and so decided to stay in Tania´s boyfriend´s cousin´s (Vivian´s) house. When I arrived, I was welcomed as I usually am here in Colombia, with broad, warm smiles She lives with another older woman and three funny guys. All of them are so happy and have made me feel so comfortable. Once again I was shouted dinner... I think that Colombians really like to give... especially food!! It makes me so happy because, (as my family and friend know all too well), I am a huge lover of food!

Monica is an extremely nice and generous person, and even bought me clothes because mine were faded and falling to bits!! She works as a journalist, and radio and t.v presenter, and she even interviewed me about the nomadic hands project... which can be heard at www.musikviva.com . My first interview in Spanish... yay!

I´m sure that the comfort I have been offered and given in Colombia is not only limited to myself, but to anyone else who meets new friends and families here. I´ll be honest and say I was a little bit nervous about coming here after my family and friends in Australia and in other parts of the world kept telling me not to come here because it´s too dangerous, but I´m so glad I did because I would have missed out on so much. The culture is one of the most happiest I have ever become immersed in, and I will truly miss it when I finally make it to Venezuela.

TANIA PARDO AND HER HELPING FAMILY

simonefrancis — Sun, 9 Nov 2008 22:27:00 GMT

I have lived with Tania Pardo and her family for the past week, and I honestly now feel like one of the family. They strive to make the world a positive place to be in, and continue to give out a fresh, positive energy. Their kindness will forever remain in my heart.

When Tania and I went to Paramo de Berlin we had a nice long conversation, in which she filled me in on many details about crime that went on, and still goes on in Colombia. She spoke about such things as human and drug trafficking. I also asked her about kidnappings here, and she spoke to me about trata de blancas. Said that most of the women who are kidnapped here, are taken by foreigners to other countries and are forced to work as prostitutes. As many Colombian women want to leave the country, they trust the person who helps them to leave and is promising them a better life with lots of money. But when they arrive in places like the USA, Japan, Panama or Europe, their passports are stolen from them, and they are bribed when they try to get it back. They have to work as prostitutes for years in order to have their passports returned, and if they don´t, they are killed.

She also reminded me of something that many locals from Ecuador and Colombia have spoken of ..."Paseo Millonario - the Millionaire's Walk/ Tour." You get into what looks like a normal taxi, and then the driver takes you a short way before stopping. His accomplices then get into the cab and hold knives or guns to you. They then take you around on a tour of the city's cash machines, emptying your account, until you finally have nothing left. They then drop you off in a remote place and sometimes leave you some money to take a cab back home. I guess I was really lucky not to have my bank card on me when I was robbed in the taxi in Guayaquil! Plus they left me some money for a cab... so I was very fortunate!

Tania and her family love to help people. She is an environmental engineer, her mother is a primary school teacher, her cousin is a social worker, and her sister is a nutritionist for poor children.

Tanis´s mother (Nubia) took me to her work at a public school the other day. I first sat in on a few of her colleauge´s classes, who is an art teacher. The kids were between 14 and 16 yrs of age, and I was surprised to see how relaxed the class environment was. I even started breakdancing with one of the kids in the first class to the music from someone´s mobile phone! They were all really interested to hear about my travel experiences, and the cultural differences in Australia and other many countries. I later went to Nubia´s class, where there were a whole bunch of noisy five year olds. She sang with them while playing guitar and had them copy some writing from the white board. I went home after a while because one of the kids, we weren´t quite sure who, had had a smelly accident in their pants.

Tania, being an environmental engineer, works close to Bucaramanga in places as such as san vicente y carmen del chucuri, san Gil, Guepsa, Barranca, Mogotes, and Velez, conserving vegetation. Identifying areas with water sources is an important step in vegetation analysis for Tania and her team, as they want the plantations to benefit nature.

Tania spoke with me about a project that her and her cousin are wanting to start up. Tania works as an Environmental engineer and her cousin is a social worker who runs a project to help sexually abused children. They are working to bring awareness to people about the importance of environmental conservation around the world, but especially in places like South America, where rubbish is carelessly littered throughout the streets. They want to focus mainly on youth because they believe that children will adapt faster to new knowledge, change, and a better way of life.

To help Tania and her cousin with their new environmental project, email taniamilady@hotmail.com

HALLOWEEN FIESTAS IN CALI, BOGOTA, AND BUCARAMANGA, COLOMBIA

simonefrancis — Wed, 5 Nov 2008 01:48:00 GMT

I had a fantastic time with Yuly in Cali, especially when she took me to a Halloween fiesta with a whole lot of couchsurfers. But Halloween didn´t just stop there. I caught a bus to Bogota, for 45,000 pesos, and met Mario (who let me stay in his house for about 6 days, while I waited on a Brasilian visa). The pollution was horrific in Bogota, and I didn´t think that the street guinea pig racing was very healthy for the little furballs.

I went out for yet another Halloween night in Bogota with some girls I had met, one of them being Liliam. Liliam is a psycologist at a high school, and was nice enough to show me where she works, and introduce me to many of her co-workers. She also took me to kids hallowen concert at a primary school, which was quite different to what I have seen in any Australian schools concerts. Later in the evening, with one of her friends, we walked the streets, looking at the amazing costumes. There were people dressed as lego men and women, a guy was dressed as a banana, and a woman as a giant rubics cube! The city was filled with zombies, vampires and pirates, and evil clowns and witches. Not all were in scary outfits though... there were cats, nurses, super-heroes, and basically whatever else you could think of for a costume. I dressed as a hippie. All I had to do was wear my normal clothes plus a coloured headband and paint some flowers on my face.

I took another bus to Bucaramanga, which took 9 hours and cost 40,000 pesos. There I met Tania, a woman who works as an environmental engineer. Tania her family are soooooo kind, and have been taking care of me like I am one of the fam. Her brother took us on a fishing trip where Tania and I (because we both don´t like fishing), just camped out all day in the fresh air. Her boyfriend and friends also took me out dancing the other night, and we went crazy to papayera music. This was yet another Halloween night where people were roaming the streets dressed up.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

INDIGENOUS MARCH- COLOMBIA

simonefrancis — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 20:07:00 GMT

On the 25th of October, 2008, I made my way to the University of Valle with Gustavo and Neyla (two friends I had met on the bus on the way to Cali). My reason for wanting to go was to find out further information about the indigenous protests that that were taking place there over the next couple of days. Gustavo and Neyla had come with me for safety reasons, and to also help get me in and out of the university.

The indigenous people had already marched all the way the Panamericana road that links Cali to Popayan for The proposal for a territory of coexistence, dialogue and negotiation of the Piendamo Mary.

The Regional Indigenous Council of Cauca (CRIC), which was founded in 1971, has led the fight for unity in diversity, land, culture and autonomy of indigenous people. Their voice has been quite suppressed though, by the dominant sectors such as landlords and local and national governments, and during the last thirty years, over four hundred local leaders and people from regional indigenous communities have been murdered by security forces.

We walked to the entrance of the university, and the first thing I could see were some of the 82 indigenous communities in the Cauca Department marching on the streets holding flags, and also fake coffins to represent all of the recent deaths. The many different styles and colours of all of the traditional, indigenous people´s clothes were very beautiful.

We entered the uni, so easily that I was a little surprised. There were helicopters flying over head, people cooking traditional foods, and men standing in the street enjoying the spray of cool water from a fire hose. There were more than fourty five thousand people in all, men and women, indigenous peasants and workers, including corteros of sugar cane. I decided to climb up a tree to take some photos in order to get a nice, safe view. The ethnic groups consisted of Paez, Gambians, Kokonucos, Totoro, Yanaconas, EPER Ambalueños, blacks and mestizos. Some were cruising down the streets in colourfully patterned buses, others seting up their tents under the shade of trees... ready to spend the night. People were tying up their communities’ banners as well as anti-military ones, to trees and poles.

The Colombian government promised an open dialogue and social sense, to try to overcome differences with the Indians. But it was always made clear the president would meet with a delegation from the community but not with the crowd for security reasons.

At the University of Valle, three proposals were discussed and debated by the Minga spokesmen among delegates and the national government to finalize the debate demanded by the Social Strength of the Minga Community and with President Uribe.

When Gustavo, Neyla and I tried to leave the university, we were stopped at the gates by indigenous guards and told that we couldn´t leave. This was perhaps because we now had information and photos about what was going on, and they didn´t know whether it was going to be used for the good of their people or not. We managed to sneak out a back way with no problems at all luckily.

The Consejo Regional Indígena del Cauca is committed to taking necessary measures to resolve the emergency social, economic and cultural fields, declared by indigenous peoples del Cauca. Their message is this: Come walk the floor for Colombia, we move to improve as the Minga has a lot of depth and spirituality, today mother nature is united, air and wind are with us.

For more information about the CRIC and their struggle for improved education, health and jurisdiction visit http://www.cric-colombia.org

PROTEST IN CALI FOR ANIMAL LIBERATION

simonefrancis — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 17:58:00 GMT

The protest march for animal liberation began at 4pm, and snaked through the streets of Cali. I had waited about forty minutes, with around sixty other people who were rearing to go. I met with a man named Terry Hurtado, who had been marching for animal rights since 1996, and he told me the reasons for his continued concern for the welfare of animals in Colombia. Everyone was at the protest to march against the maltreatment of horses in the Cali festival, but Terry also told me that he and many others march against bull fights, in which six bulls are killed each afternoon for eight days of the year.

The Cali festival has been held each year for the past fifty years, from around the 25th of December to the 1st of January. 5,000 - 7,000 horses are sent to the festival, and every year, twelve to forty of them die.

Just before we set off, Terry gave an inspirational speech to the crowd. Suddenly, everyone stood up and began to walk and yell catchy chants about animal liberation, holding up signs and banners for the people of Cali to see. We crossed main roads and stopped traffic for miles, and then headed to one of the main squares.

In the square, there was some sort of tribute going on for the air-force, and there were TV cameras, a police band playing musical instruments, and a whole bunch of military personnel. They all seemed pretty annoyed that we had shown up, and the military formed a long line so that we couldn't walk any further towards the front of the squares main building.

The protesters were peaceful, respectful, and even stopped chanting when recognition was being given to the men of the air-force. I certainly had alot of fun joining in, singing in Spanish what I could understand, and clapping to the tunes of animal freedom. There was only one point in which looked like things could erupt with the military, but it calmed down, and continued on peacefully, but with strength.

We walked on through the streets till dark, until finally we sat in a quiet street and spoke about how things went, and what else could be done to help the issue of animal liberation. I really hope that next time more people join in the marches.

To find out where to go to join in the animal liberation protest marches in Cali, or to help Terry fight against animal maltreatment, visit www.fcliberacionanimal.org or send an email to fcliberacionanimal@yahoo.com or bankivaasll@yahoo.es

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

ECUADOR TO COLOMBIA

simonefrancis — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 16:24:00 GMT

It's starting to scare me a little that danger seems to keep following me everywhere. It started in the Amazon, when a poisonous snake slithered in between my legs, then I was held up by men with guns in Guayaquil, then the neighbours of the house I was staying in (in Guayaquil also) were robbed by men with guns, and then finally I was in a bus crash in Quito the other day. The driver accidently fell asleep and smashed into the median strip, ripping off one fifth of the bus' shell. I wasn't hurt, but it was strange how the bus was full of people one minute, and then, when I was the only passenger left, it crashes!!

I had left Guayaquil for Quito, which cost me $9 and took 7 hours. I was staying with a guy named Filipe, who is friends with Kahyda (the woman I stayed with in Guayaquil). When I first met him at her house a few weeks ago, he was heading off to some sort of political meeting. I ended up finding out that the meeting consisted of all the ex-presidents from around Latin America! Filipe was kind enough to show me around Quito before I took off for Colombia.

Yesterday morning I went to the main terminal to get a $4.50 bus to Tulcan, which is near the Colombian border. I was so happy and quite proud of my Spanish skills after one man in the terminal thought I was from Chile!! The young guy sitting next to me was really nice, and once we got off the bus, he helped me exchange money and get a cheap bus across the boarder instead of a taxi. The line for Colombian immigration was ridiculously long, but finally I made it into the country. I caught another bus that was supposed to take me to Cali, but as the guy on the previous bus warned me, I may not be able to enter Cali after 8pm because of indigenous protests.

It took about 8 hours to get to Popayan, and here, everyone on the bus was told that Cali was blocked and that we wouldn't be able to enter until the next day. It was about 10pm at night, and so most of the people just stayed in the bus and slept. Luckily, I had made friends with two Colombian people named Neyla and Gustavo, who invited me to stay in Neyla's cousin's house for the night. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, and I ended up getting a pretty good night's sleep before the three of us hopped onto another bus the next morning, which took us to Cali within two hours. In total, the buses from Quito to Cali cost me 33,000 pesos, which is about $14 USD.

Neyla and Gustavo, after inviting me to their houses near Cali, helped me to get in contact with the girl I had arranged to stay with (Yuly), and told me where to get off the bus to wait for Yuly's mother, who was going to pick me up. It looked a bit dangerous where I was supposed to wait, so Gustavo spoke to a group of police officers, and asked them if I could wait with them for a bit. So there I was, on the side of the road with a bunch of cops, with no idea where I was, waiting for someone I didn't know to come and pick me up.

Yuly's mum arrived with a friend after about 10 minutes of me telling silly jokes to the police officers, which I had learnt from a friend in Guayaquil. She took me to her huge house that is near the mountains, and is surrounded by trees, rivers, and guarding police. I feel totally safe. Her maid cooked us some lunch, and later, I cuddled with her black Labrador dog and Siamese cat for a while.

The house is extremely beautiful here, is filled with interesting and brightly coloured flowers, and is full of Yuly's mothers paintings. The floral smell hit me as soon as I walked through the door. Yuly finally came to the house and was as friendly as ever. She told me a bit about her life as a phsycologist for children, which was very interesting.

The next day Yuly showed me around the city of Cali, in which I found quite a few things very interesting. There are stars painted on the roads from where pedestrians have been run over and have died... this is a campaign to remind the people here to be careful when crossing the roads or when driving. There were young kids at the traffic lights wacking car tires with wood to check the air levels for money from the drivers, and I noticed that motor bike riders not only had their numbers on their bike's plates, but also on the back of their jackets and helmets.

FLOWERS TO GUNS

simonefrancis — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 16:35:00 GMT

While in Puyo I stayed with a couchsurfer named Matt for a few days, so that I could begin to type up my previous Amazon expedition and have my tribal hair removed. On the second night at his apartment, we were invited downstairs to another couchsurfing couple`s house for dinner, who both work with Matt for the Peace corps. Another girl was there who also works in the Peace corps, and the next day she was off to give a talk about sexual education to women in a prostitution house. There was also another man there whose specialty is soil.

The food was great and so were the people, but for some odd reason I continued to find myself drifting into another world of my own. I kept blanking in and out of thought when someone asked me a question, and no, I wasn`t on drugs or sick. I wasn`t sure whethe, it was because I hadn`t spoken much in the previous month, or if I was just tired from being awake after 7pm??

I was so happy in the forest, and suddenly, I found myself walking in the streets of Puyo, about to burst into tears. I may have just been feeling sad and strangely shocked, because of the concrete, plastic and metals of the city... the noise and pollution, and people trying to rip me off again because I`m a foreigner. All of this fakeness, these cold, hard, money revolving, soul numbing objects, these lifeless things giving me no pleasure whatsoever.

I was deep in the jungle in my dream that night, and it was so fresh, emerald and beautiful. I don`t ever want these sorts of dreams to go away, and yet I know that it is inevitable that they will slowly fade as I continue to travel into the cities. I feel as if I have just truly realised what a sad turn humanity took when it began to completely start wiping out nature and all of it`s wonderful, clean, healing, calm, happy and freeing energy.

So after these few days of adjusting to the economic way of life once more, I headed over to Guayaquil (a seven hour bus ride). I decided to stay with a couchsurfer named Kahyda who is a 30 year old local female. She is really chilled out and so fun at the same time. Her brother in law Boris took me down to Machala to stay with their family for a couple of days, which was quite interesting. It was an exciting little town where I saw gangs fighting and also people dancing on the streets.

When I got back to Guayaquil I was invited to go to the movies with a friend of Kahyda`s. I had called my mum only a couple of weeks earlier, and found that she had been freaking out because she had had a dream that I was robbed by men with guns. I told her I was fine, and that her dream probably just symbolized the deadly snake I walked over when I was in the Amazon.

In reality, this is what happened…

Andre and I watched a scary movie, and after, we got in a cab that looked perfectly safe. About two minutes later, a car screeched in front of us, the cab stopped, and two men with guns got out of the car in front and into the taxi with us. They told me to give them my bag, but unfortunately I had put it across my shoulders and then had put my jumper over the top, so when I gave it to them, they couldn`t take it as it was stuck to me! They started to yell saying ``hurry up`` and so only once I had taken my jumper off and given them my bag did they calm down a little.

I was then told to close my eyes and stop looking at one of the men, who's gun was staring at my head. I was told also to keep my hands down but, when one of the men leaned across me to check (I thought he wanted to open it) the door, I lifted my hands to help him. Bad idea! They started yelling frantically, ``Manos abajo! Manos abajo!`` (``Hands down``) I said sorry a couple of times and placed my hands on my lap.

Andre, had two phones and $60 on him, but I only had about $20 on me for them to take, and so they thought I was hiding more. One of the men put his hand in my bra, then the back of my pants, and then down the front... it was pretty disgusting! But he didn't find anything. I told them I was a volunteer, and that I didn`t have any money whatsoever. Andre covered my mouth with his hand when I continued to try and say that disabled kids had made my handbag. I stopped talking and thought... yeah, I've probably said enough.

Some of the other thoughts that ran through my head were best to stay calm, also mmm, I wonder why I`m not scared? Well I`ve had a fantastic life so far. and then I really hope they aren't going to kidnap me and take me to a sex slave house. At that last thought a bit of fear kicked in. I knew they were professionals.

The car was still in motion as I wondered how long it was going to take for them to rustle through all of the papers in my bag. But finally the cab stopped... the driver was almost certainly an accomplice. The thieves gave me back my bag, kicked us out, and then threw my jumper out of the car window. Andre and I gave each other a huge hug and jumped up and down in happiness for being alive.

We were left in a quiet street, and had no idea where we were. We walked for about a minute before I saw a police car and began calling out for them to stop. They did, and as we got into the car, two young boys who had also been robbed with pistols got out. We drove around giving the police a description of the car and thieves before they dropped us off at another place where we knew our other friend were.

I had earlier bought the people I am staying with two little cacti plants, which I had been very careful not to crush all evening. I was sad when I remembered they were still in the cab as I had spent a whole 6 hours caring for them. A bit later, Andre and I made a bit of a joke about us not being killed because the cacti were sacrificed in our place.

I`m glad Andre and I stayed extremely calm, because he told me that many people are shot when robbed.

I met with Mauricio, another one of my Ecuatorian friends later, who told me he has been robbed by men with pistols eight times in the past three years. He told me that one time he was in an internet cafe when some men came in with guns and told everyone to give them their money etc. They had said that they would later search everyone, and if they found something hidden, would kill that person. Mauricio thought he had given over everything, but realised he forgot about a $20 note in one of his pockets. He took it out, put it on the floor, and stepped on it to hide it, but one of the gun-men saw him move. The man went over to Mauricio and tried to smack him in the head with the gun but missed and so became even angrier. He put the gun into Mauricio`s mouth and asked what he was hiding. Luckily the man never saw the $20 note.

A few days later, Kahyda, a few of her French friends, Miguel (another friend of Kahyda`s) and I went up to Montañita (a beach side town) for a festival. I was talking to Miguel, who told me that he had also been held up at gun point four times in the past two years!

The festival was fantastic, but when we got back to Guayaquil, we found out some bad news. Boris informed us that some men with guns had broken in to the upstairs apartment. Supposedly they got the wrong house, so went in next door to another apartment and help up the people living there. Boris could hear someone calling for help and so went outside to see what was going on. The street was now full of people, and one of the gunmen shot two bullets into the air, jumped in a car, and took off.

I was freaking because I thought that the gunmen were looking for Kahyda`s apartment, as her address was written down on a piece of paper I had in my bag the night I was robbed at gun point. She laughed and assured me it wasn`t because of that. She said it was because the people next door are Columbian and something must be going down. She has decided to look for a new place to live now though.

Strangely enough, a few days later my friend Andre (who had never been held at gun point in his life before he met me), was robbed by men with pistols, for the second time in less than a week.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 5

simonefrancis — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 16:29:00 GMT

I was dying! It was summer, and although I love the heat, it was so ridiculously hot! I nearly threw a kiddie tantrum this morning when I had to work in the chacra for about twenty minutes… well not really, but I did have to keep reminding myself, while I weeded under the yuca trees (with hundreds of bugs swarming on me) how good nature really is.

I was at Hernan`s house, and the fresh food there was once again magnificent! Fresh pineapple juice, papaya, fish, yucca, eggs… the lot!

In the afternoon I painted my chicha pots that I had created the previous week, and then fried and glossed one with sap from a tree. My paintings on the first chicha dish looked like a five year olds', well, maybe a three year olds'. I had painted a butterfly and a snake because my dream the night before had consisted of three large snakes and a butterfly-bird type animal that kept kissing my nose.

While I was painting, I saw some of the kids whacking the bottom of the thatched roof to get cockroaches to come out. As they were flying cockroaches, the kids were running about and jumping up and down to try and catch them. I asked as a half joke if they were going to eat them, because I wasn't too sure why they were collecting them. They said no, Phew, and then showed me three cute, little black birds in which they fed the roaches to. I also watched as one of the girls got food for the birds by smacking butterflies to death on the ground with her machete.

In the morning when I woke up, I was in a bit of a foul mood, so I kept telling myself I`m going to have a fantastic day, all the way to the president's (Hernan's) house. I ended up having a pretty fantastic day! I began by painting the rest of my chicha dishes, and I must say, they turned out a fair bit better than the first one. Then I fired, ashed and sapped them all to the finish. I gave two to their family, one to Fanni (my first one, which she laughed at in a nice way), and I left one there for me for when I hopefully return.

During the day Ernan (Hernan`s son) who had been working on building the cabañas with Javier and Marco, brought back to the house, a large violet-blue coloured bird known as a Violaceous Jay, and another huge animal called an agouti, which looks like a massive rat-rabbit. We ate the agouti for lunch, and I preferred it fried rather than boiled.

After a windy afternoon storm, I walked back to the main port of the village, and went for a bath in the river. I looked up and to my surprise saw something moving… it was a large turtle, tied up, which Señora Rosa ended up eating later on. My family would be very happy to know that I ate like a princess in the tribe… sometimes I even ate with a knife and fork!! Well a princess in comparison anyhow, as I chose not to hock up spit next to the dinner table.

In the morning when I went to Guadalupe's house for breakfast, I saw one of her cute puppies, but couldn't find the other. I asked where it was and they told me it died. Quite frankly, I wasn't surprised the way the dogs are treated… or rather not treated.

I went for a walk later in the jungle with Guadalupe and her baby to collect hard, spiky bits from a plant's branches, so that we could later make brooms at her house. She was pretty eager for me to try out the broom, so I did for a bit and then handed it to one of her children to have a go of.

Later, in the night, a canoe arrived full of people from another community who were journeying north. They showed me an alligator that they had caught in the river and were going to eat for breakfast the next day. I didn't get much sleep through the night as the visitors talked in the community hut, where I was sleeping, from about 2am to 6pm. Oh, and the kids were continually hocking up spit, loudly, for fun, and I'm sure one of them may have possibly been a chipmunk with that voice of his!

I decided it was time for me to go- well actually, about three days before when my repellent began to run out, but I was sure it was going to take at least another few days to arrange a plane back to the city. I also made my decision based upon the fact that I suddenly had flying cockroaches surrounding my bed, and I didn't exactly have a barrier.

During the day, I made some plates and bowls of eating, out of clay, with Guadalupe. I spoke for a bit with the teacher, whose name is Erwin, about his eight years of working in the tribe. He told me I could sit in on one of his classes, which I was very much looking forward to.

When Monica (who I had just found out is pregnant), one of Guadalupe's daughters, Fanny, and two young boys and I went to look for food in the jungle the next day, someone heard a pig, and we all climbed up a tree. Now, these pigs aren't the cute little pink type, oh no no no, they're big, black, spiky haired pigs, with sharp teeth that can rip through the flesh of your entire calf. They are called jabali here. Everyone was so silent and serious after this when we were walking back Fanni was leading and would stop every fifty metres or so, with everyone waiting behind her in silence, so that we could hear where the jabali was. Thankfully we all got back in one piece.

That same night, while listening to the sounds of the dogs fighting and howling, I continued to have to shoe off the cockroaches lurking around my bed. When I was satisfied with their disappearance, I hopped under the mosquito net into the bed. Unfortunately, two cockroaches had decided to join me for the night, until I quickly scared them out. I then completely surrounded the inside of the net with books so that it would be more difficult for them to enter, and then tried to get to sleep. It was difficult to sleep though, as I kept hearing the little critters going about their business next to me, but I just kept telling myself that at least they were cleaner that city cockroaches… and that's pretty clean.

I went to school with the children on their first day back from holidays. The first thing I saw was one of the parents giving a behavioural speech to the kids while breastfeeding her baby. I never saw that in any of the schools I went to in Sydney, Australia. I'm pretty sure that's because just about all schools in most cities have completely lost all touch with natural reality. There were 24 kids, and as it was their first day, there was also a fair amount of crying. I nearly cried too when I found out the first lesson was mathematics. The teacher actually asked the kids what they wanted to learn! I certainly didn't get asked this at school, and I certainly wouldn't have chosen maths.

During the ½ hour break, when the children went off to play, someone came back to the outside of the school (where many adults, were sitting drinking chicha after working on the new teacher's house), and began screaming ``Colebra!`` (snake). We went up to the community hut and found out that the same child that had been bitten by a deadly snake when I first arrived had once again been bitten by a different deadly snake… this time on the hand. The type of snake (which had been killed after the incident by someone), is Bothriopsis bilineata viperidae.

Class was stopped as the teacher was radioing for help and the kids all kept stuck crowded around the boy. (Gustabe is his name). He cried and cried as his hand continued to swell. We waited hours for the emergency plane. I went to Guadalupe's hut, and we continued making plates and bowls, but when I returned to my sleeping quarters for a moment to get something, Edwin told me that a message had been sent through the radio, for me to also get on the plane. So I packed as quickly as I could, and was still packing even when I could hear the plane coming. I shoved the remainder of the things in my bag and went to the plane without even having time to say goodbye to everyone. It was all a bit muddled, and I wasn't quite sure how to act because there was a child slowly dying from a snake bit right next to me. Should I wave with a huge smile, or look a bit sad for the boy's sake?? It was a tad bit awkward, but there was really nothing I could do about the situation. Fanni was at the other end of the airstrip, and luckily the pilot decided to roll the plane down to near her house, and take off from the community side of the strip. I ended up getting to wave goodbye to her and making out a bit of a joke that I was wiping away a tear. She looked so shocked that I was leaving, and I felt shocked not having sufficient time to give her a big hug goodbye.

I knew that once I went back to the city, my beautiful dreams of nature would begin to fade. My calmed mind and body was soon to be crowded with the unnatural.

If you would like to take an Ikiam Expedition and venture into the village, volunteer or donate, visit www.ikiam.info/

Contact Pascual Kunchicuy
From Abroad: (593) 9 832 3637, and (593) 9 769 2988
From Ecuador: 09 832 3637 y 09 769 2988
Or by email: shiwiarfund@hotmail.com and ikiamp21@hotmail.com

There are volunteer positions currently open in the Shiwiar territory for people who are experienced in one or more of the following areas:

Marketing

Website design

Translating with Spanish, English and French speaking abilities.

English teaching (for one of the Shiwiar territory high schools.)

The Ikiam Expedition is in need of a donation; a small plane and pilot training for improved medical access.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 4

simonefrancis — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 01:21:00 GMT

When I went for dinner at Guadalupe's house, I was happy to see that she had caught a giant fish to feed her family and I. After a while of drinking chicha and talking, something she said shocked and really saddened me. She said that eight years ago, the whole the tribe used to always dance and sing, but now they don't because they are Christians and they think that the bible says it's bad. She also added that it's only ok for them to dance and sing to music about God. Mmmmm…

I looked over and saw Monica chewing on food and then covering a large, green birds beak with her mouth in order to feed it. It was just the way a mother bird feeds its young!

My breakfast the next morning was solely a bowl of rice and some chicha. I didn't eat again until about 4pm, but when I did, the meal was more than substantial. For some reason I wasn't feeling to well that day, and spent most of it in bed.

The next day rained through its entirety. A fierce storm came over and for a few moments I was a bit concerned about the thatched roof over my head. It looked as though it was ready to wonder off for a journey through the sky- but it held.

Gustavo was my host again, and so we spent the day in the forest with his family and Marco. The ground was covered almost totally in water, which we had to trudge through while looking out for snakes. The slice in by boot (from when I had nearly cut my toes off with the machete), kept allowing water to seep through, making my sock very sludgy, and in turn, making it very uncomfortable for me to walk.

As we sat under the thick, silent trees, Gustavo, Marco and I peeled the leaves of a plant and began making string. The string was then used for an animal trap that Gustavo made in about two minutes. There had been wild pigs in the area recently and so I guess he was hoping to catch one of them.

During the whole trip, Gloria cut open some pepas with her machete and gave me the inside, white, coconut tasting pieces. We also ate the seedpods I mentioned earlier, and I can't say I've eaten anything quite like it before. The seeds were covered in a honey-like, sticky substance, but the flavour was more savoury than sweet. It was much tastier though, than the bark of a medicinal plant that I chewed on when we first walked into the jungle when Gustavo was showing me a parrot's nest. I had only put the tiniest amount in my mouth, but ended up having to spit out the bitterness for at least ten minutes after. I was so impresses when Gustavo later made a backpack (a type that dangles from your head) for my backpack, out of leaves and vines. Marco couldn't stop laughing at me as it kept falling off when I'd climb over logs.

Back at Gustavo's hut, we ate part of a gigantic fish that he had caught the day before. Earlier, when I had watched them cleaning and cutting it up and putting the pieces into a pot the size of a mini refrigerator, I was offered baby wasp babies that were like miniature worms. They didn't have much taste to them, so I only ate one or two in the end.

Just after eating lunch, I was so surprised to hear that Gloria, who is 13 years old, isn't in fact Gustavo's daughter but his wife. He is 40 year of age. Marco told me that it is a custom here, just like it is also to have two wives. I later also found out from Fanni that for some of the other tribes near Juyuintz it is normal for the men to have five wives or more.

The water in the river was rising fast, the flowers were in full bloom; all in bright, different colours and uniquely shaped.

My friends Marco and Javier had by now finished their work on the tourist cabañas, and so I was extremely sad as I knew that they would soon be leaving. Well, as soon as the plane arrived… it was already two days late. The previous day Javier had jumped up off his seat in excitement when he thought he heard the plane coming, only to then have to sit back down once I told him it was actually my stomach grumbling. I was sure going to miss them. As we hung out next to the cooking area, on an elevated level of flat cut bamboo in the evenings, they would tell me stories (slowly in Spanish), Javier, about his wild adventures in the jungle, and Marco, ancient jungle stories… a sort of dreamtime that always made me drowsy. We would also sing and discreetly dance to music, and be constantly laughing our heads off!

I asked señora Rosa (full name Rosenda Tsetsekip) if she too was of Christian religion. She replied 'yes' and to my happiness and relief, added that she dances… and not just to music with singing about god. I asked her this as we were walking into the jungle to look for food. I loved going into the jungle, especially on sweltering hot days like this particular day was. The jungle is so cool and refreshing. Even when small branches would tangle in my hair, when I'd walk through cobweb after cobweb, and when I'd get stung by such unpleasant forces of nature such as the spines of a plant that would sting me for about half an hour, I still loved it.

For a moment, a huge ant blocked our passage. That may sound ridiculous, but seriously, just one of its clipper fangs is about the same size as a regular ant. Once we had crossed the giant ant section, I watched as Señora Rosa and her eleven year old son chop down a few trees. As usual, I made sure not to stand where the tree was predicted to fall, but I was always ready to run. I sat down on a trunk of one of the trees that was covered in bright, lime green moss as soft as carpet, and watched as Señora Rosa chopped open the many layers of the top part of one of the trees, to get the crunchy, fresh tree food, deep inside the trunk. For lunch she cooked this tree part for me and added in a few white grubs, some platano, and some yuca. That morning she had shown me how she makes a particular dish out of nothing much more than platano.

In the evening I ate the tree insides again, but this time fried. I had to gulp down the meal in the dark, hoping that no insects had entered my mushy food. It was hard enough eating fish in the dark with all the tiny bones. Although I knew I was probably getting some extra protein, I preferred not to get violently ill from some unknown species of bug. Even as I got up to get a drink of water, a huge toad bounced by my feet.

Later in the night, on my way back from the wooden, hole-in-the-ground toilet (that is certainly snake territory), whilst listening to small (but still big on my terms) cats, scowl and screech, my torch-light flashed onto a rat that was hopping along the freshly cut (by machete) grass.

It was so hot again the next day. The roof of the giant communal hut was being repaired with leaves, and I found it very amusing when they built a ladder from scratch out of tree trunks to get up there. I myself, not realising how hard it actually was to walk on a thatched roof, also went up to take a bird's eye photo of the village.

Soon after, a plane came to take Javier and Marco back to the Puyo… Olmedo took off with them. He perhaps went to see his sick wife.

Back in the communal hut, everyone sat drinking chicha- females on one side, males on the other- all exchanging words in Shiwiar (a language that although it's usually not the case, often sounds like shouting). Guadalupe asked me for my tube of iodine ointment I had brought with me, for her child (Israel's) back. (He is the child who fell in the fire). So I sat and covered his scaly, pink and black scarred back with the crème, while occasionally peering down at one of the poor smaller dogs, Chiripa, who had a sore of his own. A gaping, weeping wound in fact, that bulged like a hollow volcano with puss-like lava skirting on the rim. Many flying insects had also made this their meeting point.

I looked the other way and saw two 3 or 4 year old boys, standing in the midst of the butterflies, slashing around in the air a knife and machete.

Nelli, a nice young woman in about her 20`s had taken me under her wing for the following two days, and I was happy indeed as her cooked fish , purple potatoes, lentils, rice and fried egg that she had so far fed me, had been exquisite. Just as I had begun to eat lunch, the hot weather rapidly faded as yet another loud, windy storm took over the village and its natural, emerald surroundings. After eating I took comfort in my hammock, under two blankets, and gazed out around me at the always, and hopefully forever green view of what I believe the whole world and every city should consist of, real life.

I sat making chicha dishes with Gloria (13yrs) and some other little girls in the afternoon. I tried to ask about her marriage to a forty year old man, but it was quite difficult as she could only speak Shiwiar, and her daughter in law (who is 6yrs old) had to translate for me. I kept the conversation light, and without judgement.

On Sundays everyone is pretty chilled out in the village, and so I was glad it was Sunday. Nelli, who would constantly blow her nose with her hand, was supposed to be singing in the school for church in the morning. I really wanted to hear her sing, and so I sat through a most boring sermon and, while watching a butterfly enter and exit as it pleased, waited for her to sing. For some odd reason it didn't happen, and so I decided then and there that I was certainly not going to put myself through another service again. Even after, when everyone who attended the church went for chicha to listen to some more religious music, I had to somehow politely remove myself from the group, and go for a long, refreshing swim. Walking from the house up the plane strip to the river was like walking through a dry dessert.

At around midday, Nilly showed me how to cook the platano strips I loved so much… I was really surprised by the simplicity of it all. After another swim, I saw Gloria holding something, and a group of kids in awe, huddling around. I walked over and gave the big rat that she was grasping a pat on the belly. I asked if she was going to eat it, and when she replied ``Yes``, I decided to leave for the killing. It was way too cute.

Dinner was remarkable! Well, not actually the fish and dry potato meal, but the way it was eaten. It was about 6pm and the sun had only just gone down. Creeping up slowly were the dark grey clouds of a storm, and I sat, waiting for both my dinner and the raging weather. My meal came, and so did the gushing winds through the wall-less thatched roof of the communal hut. Rain sprayed against my check and jagged lightning sprawled across the sky as I slowly pieced apart the bony fish. It was pitch black until the flashes lit up everything around including the dogs who sat close by. Nelli told what I think were scary stories to some of the children sitting beside me, and once the rain had settled a bit, I walked to my hut to sleep. The only time I was a little shaken by the storm is when it woke me up in the middle of the night, as right above my head the cracks of thunder blasted. They were so loud that they shook the earth.

I was happy to be at Fanni's house again for the next two days, and, for the first day's breakfast she fed me sting-ray her husband Patricio had caught the day before. While eating this meal I had a short break as I chased a chicken (that was after one of the kid's food) around the table until it exited the hut. If I had a house surrounded by jungle, I sure wouldn't mind having chickens to clean the floor after meal times.

From 9:30am to 4:30pm, Fanni, Patricio, Maribel and I, spent our time searching for food in the jungle on the opposite side of the river from the village. While Patricio was cutting open the top of a palm tree he had felled for food, Fanni made a cute little basket out of leaves. We happened to see a similar animal to a monkey, with a bushy tail, jumping from tree to tree. While we were looking, I heard a deep snorting sound, and we all climbed up a tree for safety, away from what was probably a wild pig. Fanni made Maribel and myself spears within about two minutes, in case the pig came back to attack. Thank goodness it didn't. Fanni began making me a sort of headband- crown thingy out of vines, before we headed back, stoping to drink chicha in a small river and collect some more morete fruits.

I must be pretty fortunate, because I'm constantly surrounded my danger, but never get hurt. On the way back through the track, Fanni began screaming ``Colebra! Colebra!`` (Snake! Snake!). I calmly responded ``Donde?`` (Where), but she just frantically gestured me to keep walking… so I did. I was horrified when Patricio went to the snake and smashed it to death with his axe. After the ordeal, Fanni told me that the snake was poisonous and can kill you quickly. It was the same breed of snake that had bitten the young boy on the foot a couple of weeks beforehand. She also told me that the snake was slithering right in between my legs. I am still sad they felt the need to kill it though.

The next day I made string, beads from seeds, and then helped Fanni make a necklace from them. When I was making a hole in one of the seeds with a drill bit that was melted into a toothbrush, I accidentally pushed too hard and snapped the metal drill bit, right into my thumb. Blood spurted everywhere, covering my hands, so I took a rest after I began feeling a little queasy. Fanni was so nice to give me another necklace, and her kindness made me feel a lot better.

That night I slept in a different place as the teacher was soon returning to the community, and I had been staying in his house. It's a bit more difficult now though, as I have no walls, and therefore no privacy to change. I am sleeping in the communal hut, where Marco and Javier had stayed when they were in the village. Another thing that is difficult about this spot is that when I need to go to the toilet (about five times per night from all the chicha), I need to climb down off an elevated platform and then back up, in the dark, half asleep!

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 5- (next blog)

If you would like to take an Ikiam Expedition and venture into the village, volunteer or donate, visit www.ikiam.info/

Contact Pascual Kunchicuy
From Abroad: (593) 9 832 3637, and (593) 9 769 2988
From Ecuador: 09 832 3637 y 09 769 2988
Or by email: shiwiarfund@hotmail.com and ikiamp21@hotmail.com

There are volunteer positions currently open in the Shiwiar territory for people who are experienced in one or more of the following areas:

Marketing

Website design

Translating with Spanish, English and French speaking abilities.

English teaching (for one of the Shiwiar territory high schools.)

The Ikiam Expedition is in need of a donation; a small plane and pilot training for improved medical access.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 3

simonefrancis — Thu, 9 Oct 2008 22:32:00 GMT

I was woken, as I am each and every morning by the rooster- the damn rooster!! The sneaky thing waltzes under my hut, right below my bed, and doesn’t stop ``cockadoodledooing`` at 3, then 5 then 6am, and I’m sure somewhere else in between. By that time, I had only just gotten to sleep from the sounds of frogs, ducks, crickets, birds, and dogs, chattering all night.

Señora Rosa made me platana chips for breakfast, which were one of my favourite things to eat. She has lived in the Amazon her whole life, moving between different communities. She has been to the city for short periods of time but doesn’t like it there at all, and this, I found I had in common with her. Just the thought of cars, buses, noise, chemicals, pollution, office work, expensive beauticians, petrol stations, and life revolving around money and about what next processed food needs to be bought from the store, was enough to make me feel like I never wanted to return. But I knew I would… if only to try and stop these natural paradises of the world from being destroyed and turned into synthetic, unfulfilling, soap opera engaged, auto pilot ways of life.

While eating breakfast Javier asked me if I wanted to join them down the river while they worked on the tourist cabins. Of course my immediate reaction was to jump up and half scream out ``yes``, as I would have done almost anything to get out of working in the chacra again. As we zoomed down the river we kept our eyes always open for turtles, monkeys, birds and other animals. Suddenly we stopped when Javier saw a huge dead fish, over a meter long, floating on the café coloured water, caught up in some fallen tree branches. I was told that a dolphin had killed it… I didn’t realise they were so fierce here. The carcass was ripped open, with bits of blubbery body parts sawed off by razor slicing teeth.

I watched, as the guys installed some lighting in the huts, then I took off to take a bit of forest photography until it started to, once again, rain heavily. I pretty much just studied Spanish for most of the day and, every so often, helped the guys out by carrying planks of wood etc.

I had the best fish and platana for breakfast next day, which was cooked by Hernan’s (the president’s) 14 year old daughter. Then Javiar, Marco, and many of Hernan’s children went into the jungle to look for food. We ended up with a whole lot of palm tree stalks, and a pot full of gusanos (the white grubs)… mm mmm. Lunch was just delicious, although I again had to leave the crunchy heads to the side of my plate.

I didn’t find too many things in the village difficult, but one thing that was a little hard for me to digest, was my breakfast, lunch and dinner when everyone around me was hocking up spit and blowing their noses with their hand and no tissue.

Marco, Javier, Sergio (another guy that came to help on the cabins), Ernan (Hernan’s son), Olmedo and I played a game of volleyball in the afternoon with one of the hardest soccer balls I have ever felt. Apart from the pain and the red marks on my hands, it was a lot of fun.

After eating (Nelli, one of Hernan’s daughters made me lentils dinner) and some Amazonian, Shiwiar music, I tried not to scratch away too hard in bed before getting some sleep.

During the next evening, after Marco, Javier, Sergio, Ernan and I went to Hernan’s house for dinner, we walked back through the forest in the dark. We had to cross rivers on slippery logs and be careful not to tread on any snakes. Once out in the airstrip, I looked up at the sky to see long, thin cloud strips stretching across the sky, with stars speckled, twinkling in between. I had never seen the sky look like this in my life.

I had such a great day today!! I went to Hernan`s house again, this time for breakfast (falling over on the way there hahaha) and had the best papaya and freshly squeezed pineapple juice I have ever tasted… I normally don’t even like pineapple juice. Puar Timias (Hernan`s wife) prepared it for me.

The whole day, the whole glorious day, was spent making cups and chicha dishes out of clay with Puar. My first creation of a chicha dish I must say was pretty good, but it took me two times of squashing my work back to a clay ball before I got the cup to a half decent cup shape.

The next day, before working on my clay creations, I had to work in the chacra garden (noooooooo) with Puaar, Hernan and their children. It actually ended up not turning out as bad as I expecting- It was steaming hot and so we only worked for about twenty minutes. I was taken on a little chacra tour and got to taste test tomatoes, chives, and bamboo juice, and then later for lunch, sweet potato and mushrooms that were brought back form this garden yuca plantations.

Puar and I then proceeded to paint a layer of runny, yellow clay over out bowls and cups. When the layer had dried we worked on sanding them with a shell and what looked like an avocado seed, and after, once they were all smooth, we moved on to painting them. The paintbrush was made of a small stick that had someone’s black hair tied to it with cotton string. I can actually paint rather well with a normal paintbrush and paper, but I must admit, I was really, no really, pathetically, artistically impaired when it came to this activity. It was the most difficult way to paint due to the fact that the hair on the brush was not short, but really long and thin.

Something made me laugh almost hysterically that afternoon- the kids were sitting around calling out (very annoyingly mind you) ``kakakooooo, kaakoookoo``. I had no idea why the heck they were making this ridiculous sound until about three minutes later when the rooster started calling. After one child called out like a rooster, and then another, there was a brief pause left for when the talented chook made his singing debut. I didn’t quite finish painting that day (maybe the rooster put me off a bit) but knew I would be rotated around the tribe again to work and eat with the same family.

Sergio went back to the city today L, but the good news is that Pascual (the man in Puyo who runs Ikiam Expedition, and is organising the tours to Juyuintza) left me a ice bag of goodies! Chips and gum etc., but best of all a torch, some candles and a lighter. My original torch had broken just after I arrived, I had also lost my spare torch, and my second spare one only functioned when it decided it wanted to. Even my lighter had fallen to bits. I knew that I just needed to be careful with the candles as my whole hut was made of wood.

At this point of my stay in the village, I just couldn’t bare to be bitten by mosquitoes and sandflies any longer. After bathing in the river, it was like a race to get under my mosquito net before the blood thirsty little mongrels came to me for a drink of sangria. My feet and legs looked deformed and hideous with the unbelievable amounts of bites I was deeply suffering from. By this stage I had at least 200 lumps of varying sizes covering my entire body.

On this day, I had the biggest scare! I was working on clearing land for a new platana chacra and was cutting a vine, when the machete (that had just been sharpened) slipped out of my hand and flew towards by foot. It sliced through my boot, my sock, and landed between two of my toes, just cutting the skin slightly. Phew! I stopped working and went back with Guadalupe to her house to watch a spiky haired black pig be de-haired and cut up into bits in the river, almost ready to be eaten. Her son David had caught it while on a hunting trip that very same day. It was pretty off to see the kids swimming around in the bloody water, right next to where the pig was being butchered. We ate pork for dinner.

About a week beforehand I had taken a tick the size of an eyeball off the neck of a dog, but after a few incidences I stopped going any where near most of them. The dogs were sometimes extremely vicious, and they even scared me enough, by blocking my path, to prevent me from entering my house or the communal hut. David had just brought back from the city two cute little puppies for his mother Guadalupe and the rest of his family. I feared for them as I watched her four year old son (Israel) wack their other blind, starving dog with a piece of wood, for no reason at all. That same kid was later playing around, jumping over a fire naked with his brother, when he slipped and fell onto his back, landing right in the flames. All Guadalupe could do was to apply crushed yucca to his black, bubbled, fresh burns, and a bit of ointment. The burns to his back and arm were quite severe, so I guess he won’t ever be playing that game again.

Apart from this horrendous injury, the day was a pretty relaxed one, painting chicha dished with Guadalupe. She seemed to really like my un-Shiwiar like pattern that I painted on one ceramic bowl, and asked me to paint a few more exactly the same. I was glad it was a chilled day, as for the previous three of four days I had constantly felt like vomiting. I put it down to the malaria tablets, but without a doctor about, who really could have been sure. The thick, sticky hot weather wasn’t helping too much either.

Also on this day, people were cleaning out and fixing the small cooking hut next to my sleeping hut. I was actually living in the teacher’s house at the time, who was soon to be returning from holidays, and so I figured I’d be getting sent out pretty soon.

Monica, a woman who is living with Guadalupe’s family, and used to be married to David, fed me breakfast. She looks like she is in her early 20`s, but doesn’t actually know how old she is or the date of her birth. I ate platana, yucca and lentils before she taught me how to make chicha. First we went into her chacra to collect and peel yuca, where I also ended up drinking some sort of liquid from a large spiky pepper. When we got back to the hut, she boiled the big pot of yucca, crushed it with a wooden bat in a tiny canoe, and spat something called camoto all through it. She then left it in a bucked to ferment over the next 24 hours.

During my efforts to help crush the yucca, I saw one of the village women begin chasing two dogs angrily in the field. They must have done something terribly bad in the woman’s eyes, because the way she ended up treating them was absolutely horrific. Whatever the dogs did, I don’t believe that their punishment to come was justifiable at all…

The woman was waving a long, thick plank of wood around trying to beat the dogs with it. She then began throwing the plank as hard as she could at them, and finally, after the wood had launched powerfully out of her hands, she managed to smack the smaller dog in the head, forcing it to yelp out in a loud, heart-breaking cry. The other dog was standing over the little one, barking, and trying to protect its friend. I had finally had enough… I went over to the woman and pleaded with her to stop. She did. When I turned around to walk back to Guadalupe’s hut, there were about eight children laughing about what had happened. I asked them how they would feel if someone wacked them in the head with a plank of wood? Everyone stopped laughing except for two kids who continued to laugh and then began throwing stones at the dogs.

Even Monica was laughing when I walked back in the hut, but not after I made it extremely clear to her that I was disgusted at what had just happened. I explained to her that I didn’t think it was funny at all, and that there really needs to be education about how to treat animals within the community. I said to her also that if people hit animals in front of children, the kids then think it is ok to do the same, and in turn are more inclined to hit other children. She also stopped laughing. I had no intention of telling the tribes people how they should behave, but I just had to say something about this situation… my moral side spoke out.

I took another look at Israel (the child who fell in the fire). He had chunks of flesh missing shavings of skin dangling from his back. Flying insects were also making their homes on his new sores. I was a bit worried about an infection starting, as there was no dressing to cover the wound and not much of their ointment left.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 4- (next blog)

If you would like to take an Ikiam Expedition and venture into the village, volunteer or donate, visit www.ikiam.info/

Contact Pascual Kunchicuy
From Abroad: (593) 9 832 3637, and (593) 9 769 2988
From Ecuador: 09 832 3637 y 09 769 2988
Or by email: shiwiarfund@hotmail.com and ikiamp21@hotmail.com

There are volunteer positions currently open in the Shiwiar territory for people who are experienced in one or more of the following areas:

Marketing

Website design

Translating with Spanish, English and French speaking abilities.

English teaching (for one of the Shiwiar territory high schools.)

The Ikiam Expedition is in need of a donation; a small plane and pilot training for improved medical access.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 2

simonefrancis — Tue, 7 Oct 2008 03:42:00 GMT

I was sitting in the communal hut when the president of the village (Hernan), stood at the edge of the wall-less hut and blew into a shell that sent out a deep hollow tune. Soon enough, most of the tribe if not everyone was together, waiting to hear whatever needed to be said. I was glad that Hernan had blown the shell, because it had paused, the hard to get out of madness for a few moments. Just minutes before I had been sitting quietly, politely, watching people throwing their arms up in the air and listening to them shout ¨Hallelujah¨. This Sunday was a full day of Christianity, which was once again, far too much for my level of religion. But I couldn't help enjoying the happy music and listening to the singing, which was all sung in the Shiwiar language.

As I looked around the village I saw a man working on making a new canoe, dogs (in some serious need of food) and a chicken that was being followed by its cute little chicklet everywhere. I watched as the females picked out small bugs from each others hair, put them into their mouths to bite and kill them, and then spit them back out. I even saw a girl eating some substance from her belly button! Many of the kids were running around naked, as they usually do. I let them draw and write in one of my exercise books, which they really seemed to enjoy. I could also see that everything gets washed in the little bay of the river beside the houses… I mean everything. Clothes, dirty dishes, filthy pots, boots, dead animal's bodies and people.

A man named Gustavo invited me into his wall-less home with Hernan, to sit and drink chicha. Gustavo has two daughters, one named Gloria who is 13 years old, and another named Sita who is six and a half. Gloria served us the chicha, while Gustavo sat sharpening his machete and axe, telling me about how the community makes natural cooking oil from animal skins. Soon after, he, Gloria and I went to find lunch in the jungle. On our way I was taught many things such as how to construct houses with tree bark, what mushrooms were edible, and most importantly, what leaf to use as toilet paper! They also showed me what sap was used for varnishing chicha dishes, and then after, dripped milk from a tree onto a leaf for me to drink. The actual sap was just like tasty, thick milk!

Gustavo felled a palm tree that we were going to eat for lunch. He then walked to the top end of the tree and chopped through thick layers of green and brown tree protection, and unwrapped it many times until there was only a thin, white stalk left. I was surprised that the whole tree had to come down just for this small bit of food. I tried some while it was raw, and it tasted plane but refreshing, and had a nice, unexplainable texture to it. He then went to another palm that had been cut down about a month beforehand, and chopped it open so that Gloria and I could find some gusano´s (fat, white grubs that look similar to the witchety grubs of Australia). I was glad to see that more food could come out of the one, big tree. They smelt awful... alot like maggots. Gloria ate many that were alive, and insisted I try some. After alot of shoving the grub into my face on her part, I finally decided to try half of one. I wasn't going anywhere near the head though, which had giant ant like nippers coming from it's mouth. I couldn't eat any more than that half.

While Gustavo was getting some more tree food, Gloria and I filled up her handmade net bag with morete (fruits that are red on the outside and yellow on the inside, and are extremely difficult to peel as the skin is like hard, small fish scales). Once the bag was full, I tried to be smart and dangle it from my head as I had seen all of the women do. To my embarrassement, the bag dropped and the contents sprawled everywhere- under leaves, in the mud, in water puddles. I tried again later, only this time with luck on my side, and I kept everything within the netting while walking back to the village.

Gustavo prepared lunch, and I have to admit, the cooked tree parts tasted delicious. I was also given a kebab stick of about six cooked grubs. I ate them quickly, and then threw the dogs the crunchy heads that initially got caught in my teeth when I had decided to eat the whole thing.

Gustavo, Gloria and I walked down the airstrip to visit Gustavo´s sister Fanni Timias Makat, and I later found out that Guadalupe is also both their sister. On the way back to the village via the airstrip, looking up, the sky was sensational! Flashing up one end of the night sky was lightning, while the rest of the blackness was glistening with millions of stars that you could occasionally see through the sillougettes of trees.

In the morning I went down the airstrip to Fanni´s house again, this time for breakfast. She lives with ther husband Patricio, her son Javier, and her two grandchildren Ricson and Fernando. A plane flew in just after and brought my new camera that was sent back as soon as I first landed, because for some very annoying reason, it had stopped functioning. It barely functioned well after it was ¨fixed¨ back in Puyo, but at least I was able to take photos.

I taught Fanni´s son Javier some English (as he was desperate to learn) ate some lunch, and then took off to greet the doctor who had also arrived on the plane. I went for a swim with the kids and then Fanni showed me where to find the correct clay for making chicha disheds and food plates. The kids and I kept throwing the clay at eachother, and rubbing through our hair which was kind of fun. Fanni was so nice to give me a necklace she had made from seeds when we returned to her house later.

Funnily enough when I went to sleep that night, I had a dream that I was snowboarding!! When I woke up, sure enough I was still in the hot Amazon, surrounded by jungle. I was woken up at 5am, and Fanni´s family, the doctor Carlos, and another medical and environmental worker named Alfredo, and I, hopped into the motorizes canoe and made our way up the river.

Many hours later we stopped and roped the canoe to a tree on the bank. Only after climbing up a steep muddy hill to get there, we arrived at a village called Yandanaetza. There was a very small family of about ten people living there. Fanni taught me how to begin making string using the long, spiky leaves of a particular plant... it took me quite a while to get the hang of it. The local mother fed us chicken soup and platana (hard, bland, banana looking fruits) and also kept pushing us to drink more and more really strong chicha. (P.S. The stronger chicha is, the more alcoholic it is). The doctor gave out medicines, and also gave some of the people and the dogs a shot. I was totally surprised when he also handed out some cigarettes, and made it fairly obvious that I was quite dissappointed with him about this particular action.

It took us another hour or so to make it to the village of Shiona, where the doctor gave out somemore medicines. It pained me to see how the dogs are treated in all of the communities. They are so thin that you can see their rib cages, and when they hang around for food, they are usually beaten by someone. Even puppies are starving!

In Shiona we were also served really strong chicha, and as I sat drinking, music began to blare. I turned around and was surprised to see a cd player with a large battery powering it. One of the young local men asked me to dance (I think he´d had a little to much chicha) and after being pushed into it by Fanni and the others from the Juyuintza tribe, I got up and danced with him. It was one of those moments when a whole bunch of people you have just met, watch intensly, as you dance awkwardly.

We said goodbye to the people of Shiona, and as we hopped back into the canoe I was attacked by butterflies... yes butterflies!! On the way back, as the stars came out bright, we stopped the canoe by the river bank, and Alfredo caught a stingray in about two minutes. I ate dinner with Fanni, her family and Alfredo, and went to bed with a massive headache from all the strong chicha.

In the morning I was given breakfast by Olmedo ( 21 yr old man who lives close to Fanni). He then took me deep into the jungle to go hunting for food. A few minutes into the walk, he steadied his long, wooden, blow gun (of a few metres), and blew into the end of it, sending out a small dart with a poisonous tip. A small bird fell to the ground, and I couldn´t help but nearly cry as I watched it slowly die. I asked Olmedo if he could kill it quickly to stop it´s suffering, but he just looked at my watery eyes with puzzlement. He then proceeded to pluck the feathers from the now dead bird, wrap it in a leaf, and put it in his pocket.

Olmedo snapped twigs as we walked through the jungle, so that we could find our way back. We heard some sort of pigs, so we went to find and hunt them, but we found monkeys swinging from tree to tree instead. He showed me a brown seed-pod that had fallen from a tree, opened it, and gave me a seed covered in sap like liquid to eat. He then hunted another bird (the same type) which he managed to kill after several attempts. During the walk he made me a musical instrument (a basic flute) made from a stalky plant. He did this about three times, as I kept accidently loosing them when something in the jungle would catch my attention. Unfortunately, later, the one that I didn´t loose, I accidently trod on in my pitch black room (which had made Olmedo laugh when I nervously told him).

Just before we walked back to his house, Olmedo cut a vine from a tree, skinned it, and then stripped it into several long, flat pieces. When we arrived at his place, with the vine parts, he showed me how to begin making a basket. During this basket making lesson, a loud, strong storm blew over, pouring madness, and when the weather finally cleared, we went to his chacra in his backyard to dig out some papachinas (small potatoes). While we were digging and talking, I realised my level of Spanish language was in need of a serious face lift. I had to ask him numerous times to repeat things and speak slowly, or change the words in his sentences, and so when he didn´t, I decided to teach him some English. He had a massive headache after learning so much, so could then at least understand some of the difficulties of learning a new language, and then perhaps try speaking slower for me.

We ate the birds he had caught for dinner, and then went to wash in the river. After I was nice and clean (well as clean as I was going to get), I slipped and fell into the mud, causing everyone, including myself, to laugh at me.

Again it was breakfast with Olmedo, before I helped weed in Fanni´s chacra. Olmedo had gone far though the jungle to another river, and came back with pleanty of fish for a late, but tasty lunch. We finished off the basket we were making before he gave me a turn at his blowgun. I hit the target he had set twice, yay! and then he gave his three year old son-in-law a turn. The boy (Christian) needed help to lift it... even I found it hard to hold up because it was so heavy. When we went for our baths, the river was full of kids who greeted me extremely warmly, which made me feel like a real part of the tribe.

The next morning I had a very interesting platana dish, which was made by Señora Rosa (the mother of the boy who was bitten by the snake). Her and her son had arrived back the previous day, and fortunately, the boy was safe and well. I went with Señora Rosa and three of her six children to her chacra (food garden), via paddling up the river in the canoe that has holes in it. While we were weeding and peeling yuca skins, the flies were unbearable!! Even with three layers of repellent, they frollicked on my skin, and tried to get into my eyes.

Javier, Marco, and Ernan (the president´s son) had gone down the river for a few days to work on the tourist cabañas, but suddenly came back, tired and puffing into the village. They had walked two and a half hours through thick jungle to get back to the village, as the community had run out of petrol for the motorized canoe, and couldn´t go to pick them up. They had been waiting about two days for someone to come. We greeted, then walked about fifteen minutes through the jungle to the president´s (Hernan´s) house. The walk there is amazing! His houses sit by the river, is surrounded in thick plantation, and he has chickens running everywhere about the place. Hernan gave us a live chicken, which we walked back to the village with, and which the boys ate for dinner... I had fish.

Maribell had not slept in my bed for a fair few nights, as I was always getting in late, but she stayed again last night. I must admit though, I do prefer my own space when sleeping.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 3- (next blog)

If you would like to take an Ikiam Expedition and venture into the village, volunteer or donate, visit www.ikiam.info/

Contact Pascual Kunchicuy
From Abroad: (593) 9 832 3637, and (593) 9 769 2988
From Ecuador: 09 832 3637 y 09 769 2988
Or by email: shiwiarfund@hotmail.com and ikiamp21@hotmail.com

There are volunteer positions currently open in the Shiwiar territory for people who are experienced in one or more of the following areas:

Marketing

Website design

Translating with Spanish, English and French speaking abilities.

English teaching (for one of the Shiwiar territory high schools.)

The Ikiam Expedition is in need of a donation; a small plane and pilot training for improved medical access.

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 1

simonefrancis — Wed, 1 Oct 2008 20:40:00 GMT

When I arrived at the village of Juyuintza, which is in Shiwiar territory and is in the Ecuadorian Amazon close to the Peruvian boarder, I had no idea what to say or how to act in front of the large tribal group. The pilots wife said to me just before we took off (a day late, as there was a plane crash just minutes before I was supposed to leave the previous day) ¨One month!! Geez your a brave girl.¨ I then said ¨Umm... why?¨ feeling a little concerned about her remark. She then continued to tell me what a hard life it was there without going into details. So there I was, sitting under a huge thatched roof that's about twenty meters away from the landing strip, with about twenty pairs of eyes glaring at me in confusion. I tried to figure out any differences in culture quickly so that I wouldn't do or say anything rude or completely ridiculous.

I noticed there were two baby monkeys hanging around that the kids were eager to catch and play with. The pilot Ricardo stayed for a while and spoke with the tribe about Christianity, only much later finding out that he is a missionary and Evangelist. He gave some of them bibles for a few dollars each and a folder with songs written in it about god for them to learn. This was all pretty full on for me at the time.

The tribe is so connected to the surrounding jungle, and yet, also with the outside world. They fly to the city if they need to go to a hospital, have a radio and solar panel, some western tools for cooking and building, and also a motorised canoe. They also wear clothes (except for some of the younger kids) unlike years ago when they used to use leaves and other natural resources.

I was taken to a basic wooden hut with a thatched roof that was to be my house for the next month until the teacher arrived back from his holidays. It was actually much better than any of the places I have stayed in my travels. They even gave me a thin roll up mattress for the wooden bed.

Later, after starving for hours (but not wanting to complain on my first day) I ate Yuca (a plant root that tastes similar to potato) and some soup. I also tried chicha for the first time... certainly not the last, which is a drink made solely from yuca. The women cook the root, then mash and chew on it, and then spit back all over it. (This I didn't realise until later). They then leave it to ferment in a bucket for a day or few (the longer time it is in there the stronger and more alcoholic it becomes) then mix it with river water, and it's then ready to drink. The women serve it in ceramic dishes they have made and painted themselves, to the men who sit and talk. I actually really liked the taste.

I later went on a canoe that had a few holes in it, up the river with Marco and Javier, who are two guys around my age, from Puyo. They arrived in the village at the same time as me and were going to be working there for fifteen days. They came to this community to help with the construction of eco-tourist huts (for the Ikiam Expedition) which are about a forty five minute motorised canoe trip down the river. We paddled only about 100 metres from the community and caught three fish, which we ate with yuca for dinner. We then bathed in the river, which I especially needed to do because I had covered myself in mud to protect myself from sand flies. No matter how much repellent I put on, they still attacked me!!

When I went to bed, I was joined by a 14 year old girl named Maribel who had decided that I was in need of company, as I may get scared on my own. I didn't really feel like I had any choice in the matter, so I shared my bed, and in the process woke her about three times when I needed the thatched roof toilet, from drinking so much chicha. By the way, the toilet is about 150 metres walk through sometimes high grass (when it hasn't been cut for a while), over a small river, in which you need to cross by walking on a thin strip of tree.

The birds called out at about 6:30am and woke me out of bed. Breakfast was fried fish and yuca, and I was so happy to be eating such fresh, healthy food. Although my Spanish is slowly getting better, they don't often speak it in the village, so it was sometimes difficult for me to know what was going on. They instead speak Shiwiar, which I ended up learning just a few words and sentences of.

After drinking more chicha, many people from the tribe and I headed down the river on the motorised canoe to help build the eco-tourist huts. The president sat at the head of the canoe with his face painted in red. We saw turtles and a monkey on the way, and upon arrival I saw ants with wings, and also giant ants that were two times the size of my thumb nail! I also saw brilliant blue butterflies bigger than my hand, metallic-blue and green small insects that hover, small beige spiders that ran up my arm, and flies that look like bees but have no stings. I found it so incredibly beautiful.

Before working on the huts, chicha was once again drunk. The work to come was tough! Loads of wet sandbags were brought from the canoe to the new huts, and were carried by even the very young girls of the tribe. There was digging, measuring, and the clearing of a small bit of land for piping. After yet another chicha break, I put my pen and paper down, and went off with one group down to a river beach to load the canoe with sand. It took extreme physical effort to bring the wet sand up the hill to the huts, and the skin was slowly grating off my shoulders from carrying the gritted bags. The steep hill up to the huts were all muddy, so we had to be very careful not to slip with the heavy bags. I used the mud to my advantage though, and covered my arms and legs with it to stop the sand flies and mosquitoes from attacking me.

I'd definitely choose eco-tourism over oil exploitation any day, as the impact on the environment is substantially lower. And that is just what this Shiwiar tribe did. Many times, representatives of big oil companies came with the promise of jobs and money, but after considering the hugely negative impact this would have on the environment, decided against it. It is just such a shame that this idea of eco-tourism is not put in place further, in the north in the Ecuadorian Amazon, where many oil companies are sucking the land dry and destroying the lungs of the earth.

On the way back in the canoe, a storm began brewing. White balls of fluff that looked just like of fairy floss, floated everywhere throughout the sky. The dark clouds followed us all the way back to the community, and when it reached us, cried down strong water pellets for around and hour.

Dinner was fish and papachinas (small potatoes), and was cooked by large woman named Guadalupe Timias. She had nine children, and one of them is Maribel (the girl who has taken up residency in my bed each evening). I asked Maribel what her dreams in life were, and she said to go to university to study animals perhaps.

In the morning I went, after walking with Guadalupe and a few of her children for a while, to one of their chacras (a cleared lot of land that has been replanted with yuca and other plants, and is used as a food resource). They equipped me with a machete, and I then began weeding practically everything but the yuca. Hours later, tired and sore, we had a chicha break, and then I was showed where to find a certain potato. Guadalupe and one of her girls brought back the heavy baskets, which have soft carry handle strips made from tree bark, dangling off their heads. Guadalupe´s basket broke in the forest during the walk back, and so, what would have taken me about 10 minutes to fix, took her only about ten seconds. She went to a tree and came back with a strong, natural rope for the basket.

Lunch included the potatoes we had dug up, and I ate them pretty much half asleep as I was totally worn out. I nearly died when Guadalupe said to me to get some rest before we head back to the chacra to work again. WORK AGAIN??!! I thought. I was ready to pass out! So I had a quick swim in the river and went to try and sneak in a nap before leaving. And then, something saved me. A huge storm came over, it poured, and the work was cancelled. Hooray!

I went to sleep that night to the ¨wooup¨ sound of a frog trying to find its mate, and had an intense dream about two snakes... one poisonous, one not. My itchiness woke me various times, which was incredibly annoying. I counted, no joke, twelve sand fly bites on my right elbow alone.

Practically the whole tribe left for the forest at about 6am, and took a canoe up the river. Everyone was excited, and I didn´t quite understand what the big news was. After spotting a Tapir (a huge black harmless animal) on the way, we stopped at a thick muddy bank. The mud was like quicksand, and it was difficult to pull my legs back out once I had trudged through it. I followed Guadalupe. She cut her way through the jungle with the blade of her machete whilst carrying her eight month old baby on her back in a cloth sling. The others were further ahead, calling out a strange vocal tone to let us know in which direction they had walked.

We continued to plod along for about half an hour through thick plantation until we reached the others, but the mood was one of panic. One of the young boys had been bitten on the foot by a poisonous and deadly snake! One man, Olmedo, quickly tied his leg with tree rope and carried him on his shoulder, back through the jungle to where the canoe was.

The rest of us continued walking, and eventually made it to a river where there was a dead tapir floating. A few of the men had gone hunting the previous day and had killed it for food. I watched as its body was cut up, and although I felt a little queasy, I helped carry a sawed off leg up the river bank. Then to my surprise, I saw a man dragging yet another Tapir (they had also hunted the day before) up the river.

I decided to maintain a bit of distance and commence writing at the point when blood, from where the machete was hitting the spinal column of one of the tapirs, began spraying all over everyone. The kids were laughing hysterically, covered in red, and seemed to be very happy with the fact that they had a good amount of food to eat for the next week. I was told by one of the men that it is very rare to catch two tapirs... even one is hard enough.

A few of the women cut large leaves from trees and laid them down so that the many body parts could be placed on top and remain clean. I could taste death in the air as the head of the animal passed by me in someone’s arms, dripping, with nothing but its spine attached, and dangling in the open. The smaller children lugged the insides of the animals up the river bed including the hearts, lungs and livers. Everyone spent time beside the river cutting up the animal into smaller sections on the leaves and then putting them into hand made baskets. I watched dumbfounded as one little boy kept playing with a hoof, surrounded by hundreds of flies. One of the heads was taken in a backpack that a man quickly made with plant branches and leaves.

Just have a guess what we ate for the next few days??

Upon returning to the village, I saw the young boy with the snake bite. He lay on the wooden bench under the community hut, crying, with his family around him praying. I was told previously, before I arrived in Juyuintza, that the radio only functions from 4pm to 6pm, and he was bitten at about 8am. As the snake injected deadly poison, there was of course much concern to whether he would make it to the hospital in time or not.

Fortunately the radio must have began working earlier, because the plane came at about 1pm. Sacs of meat were also put into the plane, so I’m guessing this may have been their trade instead of money??

IKIAM EXPEDITION- Part 2- (next blog)

If you would like to take an Ikiam Expedition and venture into the village, volunteer or donate, visit www.ikiam.info/

Contact Pascual Kunchicuy
From Abroad: (593) 9 832 3637, and (593) 9 769 2988
From Ecuador: 09 832 3637 y 09 769 2988
Or by email: shiwiarfund@hotmail.com and ikiamp21@hotmail.com

There are volunteer positions currently open in the Shiwiar territory for people who are experienced in one or more of the following areas:

Marketing

Website design

Translating with Spanish, English and French speaking abilities.

English teaching (for one of the Shiwiar territory high schools.)

The Ikiam Expedition is in need of a donation; a small plane and pilot training for improved medical access.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

PINK FIESTA IN ECUADOR

simonefrancis — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 20:22:00 GMT

Alright!! I´m finally in Ecuador! On one of the buses I caught up here (from Loja to Cuenca) three women got on very distraught. They had been robbed of everything by three men with guns! One of the women was holding a child only one year old… thank goodness they weren´t hurt.

I have had to catch many buses from Lima after getting robbed myself. I first caught a bus to Piura (15hrs), then another immediately to Macara (3hrs), where another was waiting to take me straight away to Loja (8hrs). But I was starving, as there hadn´t been a stop where I could eat, and so even though this bus was already running half and hour late, the bus driver kindly waited for me to get some takeaway food for just over $1USD. I didn´t realise the currency was the United States Dollar here.

I was also surprised when I was getting off the bus that someone actually let me out into the isle before them! In Peru this never happened… if you didn´t push your way out, you had to wait till everyone else was off the bus, even if you are in the first few seats!

Another strange thing happened. I met an orthodontist and an economist on one bus, and then again another orthodontist and economist on the very next bus! The orthodontist I met on this next bus, named Jose, invited me to stay with him and his family in a town close by Cuenca called Jeres Calchur, which is in the mountains. Seeing as the bus arrived at 3am, I decided to take him up on his offer.

I could finally sleep horizontally again! The next morning after his mother cooked me breakfast, I went with Jose and his sister (Lorena) to a place further up in the mountains called Chochahuayco to watch Jose play soccer. I could hear on the way up lambs baahing and cows mooing, and I could see blue eucalyptus trees, cows, sheep, chickens, and tiny houses and churches made from wood and mud.

Everyone was happy as Jose´s team won the soccer match, even though Jose stacked it on the field made of asphalt a few times. I found it hilarious that his sister had screamed loudly and terrifyingly every time the ball went near the other team´s goal.

After the soccer match, Lorena, Jose and I went to the shops and markets, and watched some of their other family members buy huge quantities of pink party supplies for one girl´s 15^th birthday. When a girl turns 15 here, it is as extravagant as a wedding in Australia!! I watched a long ceremony in a church and then to a house where there were more ceremonial traditions, speeches, and later, a fiesta.

The fiesta was across the road from Jose´s house, and went on till the early hours of the morning. I danced and ate, but ended up going to bed early, as I was still tired from the bus trips. I couldn´t really sleep much anyway as I was practically dancing in bed, listening to the amazing music that was blaring throughout the street.

The next morning I knew it was time to get back on the road again. Jose, Lorena, hjosseline (their 7 year old sister), and their mother, all came with me to the bus terminal to see me off, and asked when I would be back to visit them. I really hope I get to see them again.

I caught the final buses from Cuenca to Macas, and then Macas to Puyo, which took me a total of 12 ½ hours. When I was at a 15 minute food stop, I sat in a restaurant to eat a meal with a local who had sat with me. I turned to look out the door when I heard loud sirens going off, and to my amusement, found that it was just a long, green, dinosaur train full of families cruising down the street.

I arrived in Puyo at 3am, and so decided to sleep in the terminal on the dirt floor, and wait till daylight to ring Pascual (my contact for the next environmental project), so to not wake him at such a ridiculous hour.

I met Pascual in the morning and we discussed what each of us is trying to do with our projects. Pascual grew up in the Amazon with the Shiwiar tribal people, and tomorrow, I will be flying in to live with them for a month, and learn about their culture, and what they are doing to help fight off oil exploitation. I am incredibly excited!

ON MY WAY TO ECUADOR FROM LIMA....AGAIN

simonefrancis — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 07:13:00 GMT

Well.. apart from the boring stuff like getting a new passport and visa stamp, and creating new travel arrangements, I actually had a pretty nice time in Lima again. I stayed with a couchsurfing host named Victor and his family. All of them were so friendly and helped me immensely during my stay. I was offered Victors sister´s room and some of her warm clothes (as I had given all of mine away, ready for nice hot Ecuador), and I can´t count how many times they made delicious meals that I was always invited to eat. My only offering was a meal that I cooked... and in the process making an absolute mess of the kitchen!!

Victor and his mother came with me on countless occasions to buy things that I really needed that were robbed from me, even a towel, and Victor also helped me get by bus ticket to Ecuador. Poor Victor even waited around for hours while I bargained my hardest for another camera, as they are quite expensive here... more than in Australia. His mother was kind enough to help me get my emergency passport on the first day that I could apply for one. It surprisingly only took one day to get!

I have only just missed Jerome, who is making his way to Lima before continuing his trip south. He has also arranged to stay with Victor and his family, so I have left my second-hand novel (that helped me take my mind off the robbery for a short while) with him as part of his birthday present. It´s more of a joke though as it´s a bit of a girly book!! I even wrapped it in one of my passport renewal forms that I don´t need.

I also managed to say hello to a friend of mine Paolo, who I had met in Canada in the ski fields three years ago. He works at one of the biggest clubs in Lima, and granted Victor and I free entry one night (even though we only stayed for about an hour due to tiredness). Just after I got my passport, I went to Paolo´s huge house for a nice lunch that his maid prepared. He says that his family are not rich, and yet it was so interesting to see the astronomical amount of difference between the life that he lives and the lives of those who live in Pamplona. He showed me a movie that has sure inspired me with the style of documentary that I want to create, and also offered to get me in touch with a musician who is his good friend. He said should be happy to help out with any music I need for any of my work, which i´m sure will be a great help.

I also made contact with Carmen Gomez again, and unfortunately she is not doing so well as she may need an ankle operation. When a specific date is set, we will hopefully have a few experts on board to create a well made, short documentary about Pamplona and the people that live there. I want the more fortunate people to be able to feel some sort of emotional tie with this place, as the people living there so desperately need all the help they can get.

Well i´m on my way to Ecuador again... this time by bus, not boat. My passport will be stuck to my body 24/7!!

DAMN THEIF!!

simonefrancis — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 19:09:00 GMT

As I sat at the dinner table with Ligia and Christian, waiting for the dinner they had so kindly offered to cook, my emotions were a whirl... stabilizing, numbing, and then whirling once again. A mass of tears swarmed from my eyes the other night when I was robbed of all my belongings including my cameras and passport. I was waiting on the boat, which was ready to leave Iquitos for the Ecuadorian Amazon.

I have spent my time since, at the police station getting a statement and organising a flight back to Lima to get a new passport... canceling credit and bank cards, and doing all of the official paperwork that needs to be done ASAP.

During the waiting process, I have partially drowned my sorrows by reading a book that is so far from the reality of what has happened. I have feel helpless to the fact that my timing for the project must slow down, and that my money will drastically reduce because I need to buy a new camera and pay for another passport. I am also missing my friend Jerome dearly... especially as it was his birthday yesterday.

And although at times I feel sick when I allow myself to remember the emotions I held of anger and sadness just after the robbery, I snap my thoughts immediately back to how lucky I am to have my health and my life. Just last night I had a dream I was kidnapped... how relieving to know that I have not been. It is only money and time I have lost, unlike many young girls here in Iquitos who have been raped by their own fathers... taking perhaps their innocence and sanity. My grief is nothing compared to theirs.

The kindness I have received from Ligia and her boyfriend Christian (who has been taking me all over the city on his motorbike to get a plane ticket and a police statement), and her family (who have once again taken me into their home), has been a healing process in itself. Even their adorable puppy has lifted my spirits. Things can only get better from here... well I sure hope so anyway.

IQUITOS

simonefrancis — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 18:12:00 GMT

Iquitos is wild!! I got such a buzz from the city, with it's moto-taxis racing around the streets, and Amazonian jungle lying on the outskirts of the concrete city.

The boat trip here took 3 days, and was filled with locals swinging on their hammocks. I met a Medical student from England named Mari who I hung out with for most of the boat trip. I also her friend Caris, and a guy named Pier who is from France. The other French couple we had been travelling with for about a week, got off at one of the little towns on the way.

I spent alot of my time sleeping and waiting in line for food, but I also managed to see some dolphins. I also met with two guys from Lima who Mari and I hung out with for a chunk of time, and I also spoke with an Environmental Engineer for a while.

After getting off the boat, we tried to find accommodation. We ended up finding a couchsurfer who said we could go and stay at her fathers house. The house has no water whatsoever, but we were happy to have a roof over our heads. The was extremely religious and laughed and teased me a bit when I said I believed in energy but wasn´t religious. Jerome was left to talk to him for the rest of the night after that.

We ended up then staying with a girl named Ligia, her boyfriend Christian, her parents, and some other couchsurfers. They were all so welcoming, and we went on a few adventures around the town, including to a butterfly farm, a discothèque, and a birthday party where there was no possible way of getting out of dancing!

We also went to three different organisations: Zoo Peru, People of Peru, and Canatura. In between work, we also managed to find ourselves having fun on mud slides, playing soccer kids, and listening to legends from a local.

The local man named Rafael is an amazing person who teaches children throughout his area, in his home, about animals and the environment a few times a week. Due to his lack of money he can only give each child one piece of paper to work on in each class. His methods are very creative, and he only wishes he had a camera to be able to teach the way he wants. We also went on a canoe ride on the river with another local who took us to his community and to his house.

Jerome and I went one day out of Iquitos a bit to the Institution of Investigation of the Amazon, Peru. Here they study endangered species of fish and teach schools and communities how to protect them. We were able to play with a baby dolphin in one of the pools that was only a couple of months old... soooooooo cute!!

It was finally the end of our stay in Iquitos and it was time for Jerome and I to part ways. He went off by boat to Pullcalpa (south), and my journey continued north to Ecuador. I have had an amazing time with Jerome and will miss him dearly... what an insane time we have had together!!

Now it’s time for my Spanish language skills to pick up again as I continue on solo!! I’m really excited!!!

CANATURA - IQUITOS

simonefrancis — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 18:23:00 GMT

Meri Ushinahua Alvarez has worked as a volunteer for the Cantaura organisation in Iquitos for the past two years. She used to work for the government with children in a similar project, but prefers working at Canatura because of the strategy that they have and because they are not ´fake´ like the government.

Meri, who is a biologist, says that she is amazed by, and respects the methods that Canatura are using including the impact that they give to Peruvian education, and the way they open the children´s minds. They have fresh and creative ways to teach, and show that volunteers can inspire and help kids often better than paid teachers who may have lost their love of teaching.

One year ago Canatura received funding of about $15,000 from NCI for organising tours for young people. Invitations were sent out to many schools, but only 3- 4,000 people responded and came on the organised tours. The remaining funds from this are now being injected into other areas including the recycling festival that happens every year in Iquitos, and will be held on the 1st of September this year.

While I was talking with Meri, a man came into the room who had received an invitation to the organised tour one year ago. He never went on the tour, but is now interested in having about 400 kids go on a tour very soon. One fantastic thing I realised about Canatura was that their tours can be adjusted to suit many different types of groups. Each person going on the tours contributes 1 sole to cover guides training costs and to show the value of co-operation.

Canatura in Iquitos is in desperate need of a coordinator, administrator, a financial accountant, and definitely an office. Volunteers are imperative for the Iquitos sector of the organisation so that it can continue to do great things for the environment and education.

If you would like to volunteer at Canatura Iquitos or donate, please email canatura.club@gmail.com

ZOO PERU - IQUITOS

simonefrancis — Tue, 12 Aug 2008 18:21:00 GMT

As we walked around the Quistococha zoo (which belongs to the government here), Jerome and I both felt quite sorry for many of the animals. Especially the Pumas and Jaguars that were pacing around in a small, concrete enclosure. It is definitely a great thing that Zoo Peru is helping to better this situation.

We met Roland Noronha Melendes, who started the Iquitos Zoo Peru in 1993, with a man named Antony who is a friend of mine from Australia. The zoo was different back then, with even a puma and ocelot living together in the same enclosure. Now the animals have much better homes, with plantation and natural surroundings, although not all are good due to lack of funding.

Roland was working as an English teacher when he became involved in Zoo Peru. He began canceling classes to be able to focus full time on helping the animals in the zoo. He doesn’t like to see animals trapped in cages and feels that if they can’t be free in the wild, then someone must care for them properly in a zoo. The dolphin needs a better pool with a tiled floor and many of the other animals such as the Pumas, need natural space to roam around in.

There are three workers at the zoo who take care of all the animals, but when they are on holidays, the animals are taken care of by the government workers. When I say take care I don’t actually mean really take care. About one month ago, a female jaguar and her baby escaped from their exhibition. They escaped because the government workers forgot to shut the gate after feeding them. The mother was caught and put into another exhibition, but unfortunately the baby was shot because he was scaring the tourists.

Another terrible thing that happened about three years ago, was that a government vet killed three ocelots by poisoning them. He did this because supposedly he didn’t like the Zoo Peru workers, and even had the hide to try and blame one of them. Roland went to the government and tried to get justice, but the government did not care one bit and said it was their own problem to deal with!

Although Zoo Peru has helped many animals by building better exhibitions and taking care of the animal’s health, the zoo is still run by the government. The only thing the government give is money for food for the animals and on a rare occasion, some medical expenses. But Zoo Peru has forked out the money for most veterinary help.

Roland says that the animals need a better place to help improve the quality of their lives. They need clean living areas, good food and water, and also medicines. But this is difficult when they know they just have enough money to pay the full time workers for only three more months.

Volunteers are definitely needed at Zoo Peru, so if you would like to volunteer or donate, contact Roland at noronha24@yahoo.com or rolandnoronha1@hotmail.com

Roland also has a different project that he is working on at the moment with his wife who is currently studying nursing. The project is called Dignity and Honor, and helps to improve the quality of life for others. Roland is creating an educational program for children to learn about the environment and animals, and also about health prevention. Roland and his wife will travel up and down the Amazon teaching communities about flora and fauna, and also how to avoid getting sick.

Roland would also love volunteers for his upcoming project, so if you would like to help contact him at noronha24@yahoo.com or rolandnoronha1@hotmail.com

CANATURA- (ENVIRONMENTAL ORGANISATION)

simonefrancis — Fri, 1 Aug 2008 19:09:00 GMT

We had been trying to contact someone from Canatura (a non profit organisation helping the environment) for the past couple of days, as Juany from Otra Cosa recommended us to visit it.

After going to the markets to buy the family some food, then to the pools with one of the daughters of the family, we were called on Jerome´s mobile phone, during lunch, by a man named Amner Del Aguila who volunteers at Canatura. The phone cut off before Jerome could even say where we were exactly... but then 15 minutes later there was a knock at the door and it was Amner. He had heard Jerome say what town we were staying in, and then came to ask the locals what family we were with.

Amner then took us to another place to stay, which was about 10 minutes away up a huge flight of stairs and a few streets away. There was nothing but a clay floor to sleep on once again, but it was so nice of them because within an hour they had set up a light blocker (thick plastic hung from the celing), and matresses and sheets to sleep comfortably on!

There are a few people living here, some who work for Canatura... some who don´t. Alexandra and Yann (The French couple we met on our way) helped one of the women prepare dinner... the kitcken floor was piled with corn skins. The meals I ate here have been very different to all the food I have so far eaten in Peru. Once we had cooked, soft penuts (with the shells still on), a sort of fried banana, and a green, thick drink that I had no idea existed. All have been filling and tasty though.

We finally met the Project Co-ordinator of Canatura (Club Amigos de la Naturaleza), Wagner Silva, in the evening. He takes care of the project in Alto Mayo, which is the Moyambamba and Rioja provence. We sait down, and he began a presentation about the association on his laptop.

Canatura is a student project where all of the people work as volunteers. A man from Israel had started the idea about 3 years ago when he worked for one month at a time at three different places, Moyabamba, Iquitos and Chiclayo, for two years. He then brought his idea to the university, where the students joined together and built on the idea.

Canatura´s target is to increase the impact of the project by having it function throughout the San Martin department, which includes 11 provinces. Their principal is to change the attitude of the public about the environment, and their vision is knowledge, pre-occupation, and active participation from the public impacting the environment positively.

Canatura is open to everyone, there is no selection process, and all ages are welcome. The amount of people volunteering vary, but at the moment there are 23 people on the database in Moyabamba.

The way the project is managed, is by teaching the locals from the countryside on general information about the environment, and to be oriented on tourism so that they can become local guides. They move to different environments, and are taught about specific things also including plants, fruits, and insects. Plus they learn about the cycle of everything... how things are born and grow etc.

Every year, Canatura has a free environmental festival lasting for about one week, where over 10 cities from around Peru are invited. There are exhibitions of the same tours that the guides are educated about, wildlife art competitions, kites, dancing, and animation in the streets. They even have people representing different animals in costumes and an orphans competition for the best bird outfit and dance! 11,000 came to the festival last year, which was grew from 6,000 the previous year. They expect about 16,000 people this year.

I was amazed by the amount of activities run by Canatura. There are even projects for the elderly in where people come because of their curiosity, and if they end up wanting to help, that´s even better. Two children who asked to be taught by Canatura, have now been teaching other children, and are now running the project in their classes and at school competitions.

There are specified one day projects, that focus for example on one species of bird only. The volunteers are taught all about the bird through using pictures and doing interesting activities. One child who was trained as a guide, has been taking much older people on tours.

Canatura mainly teach poor people from the countryside how to be a specified environmentalist guide. They want the guide to be not just specified for the tourists, but also for increasing the coverage of this project. They want to have the volunteer guides teaching other locals also to become volunteer gides. This is extremely hard because they don´t have enough money for books, transport, and equipment that is imperitive to have to make the project grow. They rely heavily on donations of used equipment such as cameras from tourists.

The oganisation is hoping to build a hotel, which would be managed by the guides. This is their plan to make money and stabalize and finance the childrens studies, and keep them involved for longer. They also expect by the end of the year to have another provence Tarapoto, heavily involved in the project.

There are also target seminars, where proffessionals working in the environmental sector are invited to speak to schools and universities, to inspire them to become actively involved in helping the environment. A few volunteers from a university have come to help at Canatura, after listening to one of the seminars.

The project co-ordinator Wager, who is 30 years old and from Peru, has been involved in helping the environment for the past 8 years. He studied Environmental Engineering, and now works during the week for a German corporation giving technical service to them about the environment. He became involved in helping the environment because he is passionate about the countryside, the mountains, wildlife and camping... and he also loves nature photography.

Wagner says that he is scared about what is happening to the environment aound the world, and he doesn´t want to see it happen in his own area. He also says that many people always want to hear about how to benefit the environment, but many are just too involved in their own lives to become actively involved.

Out of the 23 volunteers, 7 are fully qualified and have other jobs during the week, which is why they can only work on weekends. I am stunned by the amount of work thay have done with no support from the government whatsoever, and with such little time. They have had children take four tours in just a month, which is one every single weekend that they have volunteered.

One thing that we found really interesting, was the fact that three volunteers who have worked at Canatura, now work in a monkey santuary about half an hour from where Jerome lives in France!!

Canatura is growing rapidly and extremely well. They have a well thought out track, and are very intelligent within their administration. Their precision and dedication, along with professionalism is sure to take them a long way... especially if they receive some much needed funds and more volunteers. Only 4000 soles would be enough to give each guide complete documental support for helping others.

The organisation is ready to explode in the best way possible!!

If you would like to volunteer at or donate to Canatura go to www.canatura.org or wtite to canatura.peru@gmail.com (2 months notice is required for volunterering).

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

LOCALS ON THE WAY TO MOYAMBAMBA

simonefrancis — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 19:06:00 GMT

We went to Celendin... Jerome and I, on our way to Moyambamba. We never have
any idea where we will stay, but we always find some nice local´s house over
our heads. At the bus station upon arrival I went to the bathroom, and by
the time I returned Jerome had found us accommodation... well sort of.

We followed the family through the streets for about 10 minutes until we
came to the house. We walked in to see mud walls with vines dangling along
them. Everything was made of bamboo and wood, and there was a dodgy ladder
up to the next level where our room was. Our empty room with dirty wooden
floor-boards and no lights.

More than happy to accept their offer, we left our bags there and ventured
out into the town where a huge festival was just beginning... ¨Un Santo¨
(something to do with religion). The food... THE FOOD!! The people, and the
dancing... the dancing with such freedom! I loved this place, so secluded
from the world, yet so alive.

There was a colourful electricity in the air, as Jerome (in the nice comfy
hammok) and I (on a thin yoga mat, on the hard wooden floor), lay listening
to the most amazing music and singing we have both ever heard in our lives!!
It was the happiest sound in the world.

.......................................................................................................................................

The next stop on the way to Moyambamba was Tingo, where we went up a
mountain and briefly checked out some of the historical culture of Peru. We
saw the ¨Ruinas de Kuelaps¨, which has about 420 ancient
and stoney constructions that are currently being excavated. I was told that
the rich used to live in this classy old fortress, and that the surrounding
mountains are where 3- 4,000 poorer families used to live.

Although I thought this history was interesting, I found the trip back down
the mountain the best part. The tiniest flowers had the most amazing fluro
colours and patterns, and there were fields of corn with scarecrows spotted
throughout the mountains that held different patches of yellow, green, and
brown farming lands.

Once down, back in the town of Tingo, we managed to hitch a ride with a bus
full of 10th graders from England, who were doing some sort of school
challenge expedition that was created to help them learn more about the
world. I chatted for ages to the kids, and Jerome was a hit because he gave
food to everyone upon entry into the bus.

The bus arrived in the next town of Chachapoyas, where we spent the night
camping in the garden of a hostel. And then after a morning of work on the
computer we caught a taxi to the next town called Pedro Ruis, and then a bus
onto Moyambamba.

......................................................................................................................................

The bus was INSANE... and the little towns on the way were truly
different!! There were giant, shiny Jesus symbols at the front of the bus,
on big black windows. The man collecting money for the bus trip seemed way
out of his head, and was extremely hostile... the driver wouldn´t even stop
when someone was yelling that they wanted to get off.

When we were at the only toilet stop, a little girl sold me some corn. We
spoke for a few minutes, and her sadness was imminent. The strangest thing
happend though... she asked me if my name was Simone. I hadn´t said my name
and was a little shocked at her question, but I of course said yes and
smiled.

When we arrived in Moyambamba there were an extra two French people (that
Jerome had not stopped chatting to for hours) with us. They were interested
in the environmental organisation that we were visiting in the town, and
wanted to perhaps volunteer.

So there we all were at the bus terminal, at midnight, and with nowhere to
sleep. We began talking to an old couple who were sitting on a bench, and
before we knew it we were eating dinner they had cooked, in their house of
bamboo that had walls made of rice herd and mud. The backyard was filled
with fruits and vegetables, and it was just so beautiful and tranquil. And
Once again, I was on the floor... this time with the French travellers (Alexandra and Yann).

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

INCAWASI- BEFORE & AFTER SCHOOL FOR POOR CHILDREN

simonefrancis — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 17:38:00 GMT

Jerome and I took a supposed 6hr (which actually toook 8hrs) bus ride to Cajamarca. Once there, we made our way to Incawasi, a before and after school for poor children that is run by local and foreign volunteers. Incawasi wants to improve and develop the educational, social and nutritional situation of children from disadvantaged areas within the city, and currently care for 40 children between the ages of 6 and 15.

There are alot of things for the children to do here in the large Incawasi building, which sits right near the center of town. They have computer, English and dance classes, plus every Friday they have activities day when they do things like treasure hunts.

We realised when we arrived that we had come during holidays, and so all of the Peruvian workers were not there for two weeks. It was however, really touching to see five volunteers who had decided to keep Incawasi open during the whole of the holidays for the children. The volunteers had alot more work to do while the Peruvian workers were not in, including cooking for all of the children, and doing extra cleaning. The volunteers say it is not as structured during the holidays, but it gives them a chance to have fun with the kids and get to know them better.

The volunteers still helped the chidren with their homework, and decided to make it fun for the kids by taking them out around Cajamarca to experience many different activities. The second day we were there we went to the swimming pools, and another day we went up to the top of a big hill to view the city and we also went to watch a parade during a festival.Twice a day, a healthy and delicious meal was cooked for te kids.

Fiona, who is 29 years old and from Ireland, has been volunteering here at Incawasi for 3 months, and is at her final days. The children just seem to absoloutly love her, flocking to her, and giving her many cuddles. she had taken on alot since the begining of the hooidays, and hes been dedicated to helping in many different areas of the organisation.

Karl, who is 20 and from Detroit, has been studying economics in Scotland, and has come here to Incawasi, also to help. He has only been here for about a week, but says he has already had an amazing experience, and has also learnt a bit of Spanish. He says ¨Life is not easy for some of us¨, which shows just how much he cares about helping these children who are much less fortunate than many others.

It was so great to meet an Australian volunteer for the first time in my journey! Roger, 42 from Melbourne, has been volunteering at Inca wasi for 7 months and is sure that after he leaves, he will return again to continue helping. Roger used to work for a bank back in Australia, but is now retired and decided to help here at Incawasi.

Roger didn´t hear of the organisation Incawasi until after travelling to Cajamarca to stay with a friend. He was just going to travel around, but decided to be socially responsible, as he is lucky enough to have a great life, and can do whatever he pleases. He thinks that more people who are so fortunate should also be more socially responsible. He has absolutely loves working with the children here, and you can really see what a massive effort he makes within the organisation.

Christina from Ireland has come to Incawasi for the 3rd time in 3 years. I shared a room with her during my stay, and luckily, as she had told me she sometimes does, didn´t scream during the night when having nightmares. Such a cool girl though... she showed us alot of the social and local side to Cajamarca, which was fantastic. In fact, this was the best place I have ever gone out in for social outings.

Alison, the sweetest American girl, was always waking up early to prepare food for the children... for everyone. It really hit her emotionaly when she went up to the mountains to visit the family of one of the children. In one of the rooms they saw a 102 year old man, dying on the floor with a new born baby lying beside him. In this room is where all of the family give birth, and most probably where they all die.

The family were begging the volunteers to help get the man, who had no papers, burried. For religious reasons it was very important that the man received a proper burial. It was such a contrast of life for Alison to see the man and the baby lying together, and at times emotionally agonising when the family begged for help, but she enjoyed and respected their strong family bonds and values within the community.

The mad died two days later, and the volunteers were still trying to figure out the best way to go about things even after we had left.

During my whole journey, I have not encountered a group of more dedicated, fun, and welcoming volunteers, who decided to help the children by running the organisation during their own volunteer holidays.

I also thought it was great that they have open files, so you can see that whatever expenses you pay, you can be sure that the money goes to where it is truly needed... to the kids.

Incawasi is always in need of volunteers and donations. To help out in any way visit the following website: http://www.incawasi.de

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

CORPORACION DE EDUCACION POPULAR (OTRA COSA PROGRAM)

simonefrancis — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 17:51:00 GMT

Ana, Meindert, Noemi, Susannah Jerome and I met up with Juany again at Corporacion de Educacion Popular, a school for the local poor children. We met Father Victor Hugo Tumba Ortiz, who has been volunteering his time to working at the school since it first opened four years ago. The Municipality gave land, and then the school was built out of a series of miracle donations from all over the world! It began with 40 children who sat in a little hut, and has now grown to a school of about 240 children. As more children come, the school is built bigger.

There are many migrant families in the area that come from the Highlands, and the teachers at the school are trying to empower the parents by educating their children. It is fantastic here because it is a community school where parents get really involved and help with things such as cleaning and decorating classrooms.

We visited all of the classrooms where different age groups were learning. In one of the classes, I remember Father Victor Hugo say a wise thing. ´´The world will get sick if everybody keeps throwing everything everywhere,¨ he said. We visited the dining area, and were told that the mothers come in to cook for their children in the afternoons. It only costs 50 soles (about $18 AUD) to cook for 250 people!!

At the moment the fathers of the children and also some volunteers are helping with construction, but they are in desperate need of more volunteers. Three men from Otra Cosa came to the school to build a protection area for the food area. When Juany was in England, she held a breakfast fundraiser, which raised enough money for running water for four toilets.

The children have a much better life here than they would at home, and especially with the volunteers and Father Victor Hugo being so dedicated to the project. He even slept in the library for a while so that he could be there if anyone needed help with anything at all. One volunteer Jacqueline has been working at the school for four years. She came to do practical work for social studies at her university, and never left. She works from the morning till the afternoon, and has never had a holiday.

On the way back to the house in the taxi, the police pulled us over twice and nearly took the license of the cab driver away. Jerome had to charm them all, and thankfully we were let go and waved off after explaining the good work we were trying to do.

If you would like to donate to or volunteer at Corporacion de Educacion Popular visit http://www.otracosa.nl/

SANTO TORIBO (OTRA COSA PROGRAM)

simonefrancis — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 17:46:00 GMT

Ana, Meindert, Noemi, Susannah Jerome and I continued in to the taxi to Santo Toribo, which is a day care center for mentally and physically disabled children. The organisation is about 20 years old and there are about 170 kids attending the school. Terrorists came in 1980 when the school was just starting, and didn't want the school to continue. Some people from Ireland had originally started the organisation by wanting to build a church and give health and education. The terrorists forced all of the foreigners out of Peru because they didn't want projects like this running, and so this is now why the organisation is solely run by Peruvian people.

There are many different projects and interesting things within the Santo Toribo day care center including physical therapy, a bakery, jewelry making, hand crafts, and even making shoes, and many classrooms where most of these activities can take place. Once a year, every year, for the past 12 years, they expose all of the products they have made next to a church in Trujillo, and sell these things to make money for the organisation´s needs including equipment for the kitchen.

The government is helping by paying all of the regular teachers here at the school, and so support in this organisation is strong. Families must pay for their child to come here, but if they can't afford it, then they just pay whatever they have.

This organisation is where Noemi (a volunteer I'm currently living in the house with), will be coming to volunteer for the next 5 days.

If you would like to donate to or volunteer at Santo Toribo visit http://www.otracosa.nl/

WOMENS REFUGE- CENTRO DE PROMOCION DE LA MUJER MANOS DE PAIS (OTRA COSA PROGRAM)

simonefrancis — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 17:45:00 GMT

Ana, Meindert, Noemi, Susannah Jerome and I headed back onto the road in the packed taxi towards the women's refuge, which is the only one in the north of Peru. Laura Chalan de Vizconde, a local who has been volunteering here for about 9 years, warmly welcomed us into the home.

As Jerome and I began interviewing her, a man tapped on the window. He had brought food for his wife and children... so strange considering where we were. He said he wanted to see his children, but Laura did not let him, and instead gave him a piece paper from a book... i have no idea what it was.

Later Laura informed us that the man had come to the refuge at about 6am and was found banging on the window of his wife and children's room, upsetting them. Laura told us that the woman came here with her children because her husband had been constantly humiliating and insulting her, and at one stage had beaten her. She also explained that he may have a mental problem due to drug use in the past.

Laura says witnessing violence in her own family in the past has made her now want to help other women. They have saved alot of young couples from going down a path of violence, by separating them, teaching them, and then re-introducing them. But Laura says that it is hard when there has been violence within a couple for many years, and it is necessary to protect the women here at the refuge.

Receiving sad, mistreated people, and then bringing them to a better state with new found knowledge of their rights, is something that Laura loves within her work. The hardest thing for her is the fact that they get no financial help from the government except for electricity and gas. They have gone for two months without paying their rent which is about 200 soles, and the center is close to shutting down.

They have land to build a centre in Esperanza but they don't have the money to build it. A Spanish group called Circulo Solidario has offered to build a center near where the dumps are, but they have no land there. It is a struggle for Laura and the others to work here also, as they are in great need of volunteers.

When we left the refuge and drove off in the cab, the man who wanted to see his wife was waiting and wanted to talk to us. The man asked Jerome if he could help him get his wife and children back. Jerome said he could not do a thing, and we both found the man´s comment fairly dominating when he said ¨The bible says that women don't have the right to put rules in the house.´´

Waiting in the cab, Susannah mentioned that the man's comment reminded her of Cepan (pre-Inca) times, when women were put on the same hierarchical level as prisoners. She then picked up her guitar and played us a song that she wrote, while singing beautifully on the way to the program.

If you would like to help the women's refuge in any way write to refugiodepaz@hotmail.com or visit http://www.otracosa.nl/

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

RELLENO SANITARIO- LANDFILL & ACJ (OTRA COSA PROGRAM)

simonefrancis — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 17:42:00 GMT

Squatting in the dirt... in the garbage, I spoke to a man the same young age as me who looked 40. I was trying to look like I didn't care about the hundreds of flies that swarmed around us or the rotting fruit between my feet. I didn't want the man to lose face over where he lives, and I wanted him to share with us what it was like to sleep on a mattress each night that was laying on top of a rubbish tip.

We had cruised into the area via a taxi filled with six volunteers and a driver, along a road that took us all past the prison close to Trujillo. We drove up onto the garbage, into the land of thousands of unregistered people who don't exist to the government, and therefore receive no money. Children are sifting through the garbage with huge bags of bottles balancing on their backs, while donkeys pull carts over slowly decomposing mounds, and dogs scavenge wildly throughout the area.

Jerome translated for me once again, as the man who lives in the rubbish tip named Osualdo, who has been living here for four years, spoke to us about how he had come to live in such poverty... such sickness. Osuald used to live in Lima and work in the clothing and material industry. But he worked with unstable work conditions and would sometimes have no work... therefore no income. He came to this area Relleno Sanitario to get some recycling work, in which he would get a more stable income.

The hardest thing for Osualdo is sickness. Wounds heal incredibly slowly, and when first cut, infection spreads rapidly. There is no medical help at all here, and people need to walk a fair way down to a medical post where they must pay for any medication with money they simply just don't have. Remember, they live in garbage.

When someone is in severe need of medical assistance but can't afford it, sometimes they can be helped by one of the elder men who lives in the town and is part of an organisation. This organisation doesn't have a name as it is improvised and made from the locals of the rubbish filled area. They go down to Lima to get food, clothes and masks, which also help them to work a bit safer. A few years ago someone was run over and killed by a tractor.

The organisation, which acts as a voice for the community, also tries to fight off the government who are trying to privatise the area. There are many immigrants in the area, which would mean jail for some people, and back to instabillity for the rest.

With 250 families living here, there are about 1000 people working, and medication is first and foremost a must within the community.

A Sociacion Cristina de Jonenes del Peru [ACJ] (meaning Young Christian Association), gives an alternative to the families and their children who are living in this community.

ACJ is linked in with a health centre, the municipality and education centres. The health centre trains women to become more self sufficient for their community, and through ACJ the families are also taught about things such as saving water, so that they can get the benefits of what little they have.

There are many different projects within ACJ including an Earth project for adults, children's sports projects, where teenagers can help out in the activities, and projects to generally open the door to the basics of life. There is also the Association de Recycladores de Sueño, (Dream of Recycling) where most of the mothers in the community work.

Mothers who are trying to get help for their family come to ACJ. They can't completely leave their devastating situations, because they need to work at the dump to make money. ACJ has just begun to help many mothers start their own organisation, with a volunteer lawyer assisting and teaching them the basics of the required positions the drive it. eg. President, secretary.

ACJ's main goal is to fight against child exploitation, but it is hard for them to get the children out as the improvised organisation within Relleno Sanitario keeps brining clothes and other resources to the dumps, which makes it easier for the children to work there. ACJ is trying to inform the locals of the dumps that they are severely cutting the life of the children.

Four teenagers from the ages of 12-18, were working 24 hours per day, 7 days a week in the rubbish tips. Now, thanks to ACJ they take photographs, which are then turned into postcards, and sell them to help raise money for this dire situation. They got this idea from Otra Cosa Volunteer agency who works closely with them, providing volunteers.

We were shown the bakery where teenagers and young children are taught the ropes of baking, so that they can have an alternative to working in the tips. But ACJ is in desperate need of volunteers. We witnessed the children sitting alone, waiting for either one of the two volunteers, or Director of the organisation (Cecilia Carrascal Campos) to help them in class.

It is free to volunteer here, and they are in the process of planning accommodation and other logistics.

If you would like to volunteer at or donate to ACJ, please contact any of the following:

Mirian Valderrama Aguilar: mivalagui71@hotmail.com

Cecilia Carrascal Campos cecicarr@hotmail.com 949537193

Otra Cosa Volunteer Agency: http://www.otracosa.nl/

OTRA COSA VOLUNTEER AGENCY

simonefrancis — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 17:22:00 GMT

We (Jerome and I), made it to Huanchaco. We were tired and without a shower for four of five days, but it was worse for Jerome as he was very ill during the whole 9 hour bus trip here. We entered into the Otra Cosa volunteer agency and sat down with Juany, who as been working here with her husband Peter for the past 3 years, volunteering their way to create access for other volunteers to enter into 20 different projects throughout the north of Peru.

Peter was awarded good sponsors from Holland and also won a grant for the project, which he then made even larger in Holland. There are 8-12 kids at the moment taking pictures and making postcards to sell. They get 50% of the profit, which helps immensely within their families. 1 card costs about 1.50 soles in Peru, and obviously more in Holland.

There are so many different types of programs and other great things going on here including environmental and children projects where you can teach music and English, and there is even a restaurant run to help keep the organisation funded. Otra Cosa is planning a concert with the children to also act as a fundraiser.

We met with a couple named Ana and Meindert, who are from Holland, and only just arrived about 2 weeks ago. Anna, who lived in Uganda, Africa last year for four months, was learning International Development Studies. Meindert at the time was studying about Engineering in sustainable Energy, in Holland.

Ana and Meindert have been in contact with Peter and Juany over the past 8 months, and will now be taking over Otra Cosa for a few weeks, while Peter and Juany visit Peters mother. They will try to help bring further structure and improved administration to the organisation.

Otra Cosa thankfully has alot of strong political influence. Peru Support Group (an NGO that promotes the situation in Peru), knew of Peter and Juany's work and invited them to England to present a topic, which will create awareness about Peruvian education and health. Juany has chosen child exploitation and the programs that can eradicate this.

The library was even opened with the help of Juany's good friend who is in politics, Fernando Bazan, who is the Mayor. A volunteer from Otra Cosa had originally began with the idea of getting a library for the town, as there was not even one in the area at the time.

Juany, Ana, Meindert, Jerome and I, went for a walk around the town of Huanchaco. We went past the local hospital, where Juany explained that there is a girl from England who is volunteering there at the moment. We were then taken to one of the local surf schools.

Evair, a local Peruvian surf teacher, took us to his home, which is also a surf school and is owned by Juan Carlos (a Peruvian surf champion). Eviar is a 21 year old volunteer who teaches poor kids how to surf. Apart from teaching, he takes care of all the decorations in the house.

The house is amazing and is mostly made of bamboo. They are currently building and finishing off rooms where tourists and volunteers can come and stay. Money made from board hire and lessons, goes towards the building and maintaining of the volunteer house.

Ana, Meindert, Jerome and I then walked through old Huanchaco, past many houses of foreigners who are settling here. We slowly walked past houses where families who are connected with Otra Cosa take in people for home stays, and then made our way to the Otra Cosa restaurant. I think it is awesome that you can watch DVD's for free while eating your meal here.

At the restaurant all volunteers receive 15% off all food and drinks. The volunteers also receive 10% off at two other restaurants and 25% off surf lessons. We then walked along the beach and looked at the fishermans boats, which are made from huge plants called Totora, and polystirene inside to help them to float.

We made it to the Mundode Niños house, where a woman named Gladys showed us around. Twelve boys from the ages of 7-16, who were previously on the streets, are living here. There is a maximum of twenty boys who can stay in the house due to lack of space, and when we entered the house, the boys were all eating spaghetti close together in the dining area. There are 3 computers for the teachers to collect their materials to teach the children, and a psychologist who comes nearly every afternoon with open doors for the children if they need to talk.

The boys make candles and yoghurt, which is sold at Otra Cosa restaurant and other grocery stores. The candles smelt great and the mango yoghurt I tried was the best I've had in Peru so far. A specialist comes in to supervise each time the children make yoghurt, and another comes in once every so often to see if they are still making the candles correctly. There is always however someone over the age of 18 supervising the children melting wax around the stove.

The children were gorgeous when saying goodbye. One wouldn't let me go and kept saying in English ¨I love you too´´, not that I said ¨I love you¨ in the first place. They hung off all of us and gave us huge hugs and kisses... such sweet little guys.

The next day was intense... there were four of Otra Cosa´s volunteer projects to visit in just one morning. Ana, Meindert, Noemi, Susannah Jerome and I jumped in a taxi, and took off to begin the half day journey.

Noemi had arrived the night before. She is a vibrant 27 year old Spanish woman, who has come to Otra Cosa to volunteer for 5 days in Santo Toribio, a program helping disabled children. In the taxi, I got further acquainted with Susannah, who is a 35 year old female from NY City who has been teaching English in another Otra Cosa program in Chiclayo (a town a few hours north of Trujillo where a pre-Inca museum called Sipan lays).

The project Susannah works in is called Canatura, which is an advocate for wetlands, birds, conservation, and preserving the Bosque Seco (dry forest). It is actually a tropical dry rainforest, as it rains for three months, and is dry for the rest of the year. Susannah helps with translating bird names for local tour guides who take groups into the forest. These tours provide funding for the project, along with any grants they are offered.

There are over 1800 different bird species in Peru, so Susannah has her work cut out for her. Apart from volunteering in Chiclayo she would soon like to visit many more of the Otra Cosa programs around Peru. She loves the dedication of all of the volunteers at her current program, and is amazed that most of them have just only finished university, with most having studied Biology.

The thing that Susannah found most challenging in her volunteer work was getting used to the first couple of weeks of culture shock. The local families perhaps sometimes get a little bit offended when she doesn't have lunch with them, but Susannah says that because she is such an independent person she needs some quality time to herself. But she adores everyone especially the head of Cantura who she says is extremely dedicated and has taken the time that he doesn't have to helping her in every way possible.

Susannah initially came to Cantura to become a better teacher. She has learnt alot and says that because the students are so eager to learn and pick up things quickly, it is a real challenge for her to keep her lessons interesting.

The cab drove all of the volunteers to visit the people living in the rubbish tip.

If you would like to volunteer at or donate to Otra Cosa, visit http://www.otracosa.nl/

THE FAMILIES OF CHALLUA

simonefrancis — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 13:58:00 GMT

I went with Isabell to see where the families of most of the children live... "Challua" (meaning invasion). Most of the families came to Huaraz from the mountains, and were wanting a better life plus education for their children.

Many families are now struggling, with the men working about only one day per week in perhaps construction, and the women washing clothes and selling eggs and other food in the markets whenever they can.

Their houses are mostly made from mud brick called Adobe, which must be left to dry for a week once made. The authorities are reluctant to do anything about the condition of the houses because of the chance of flooding in the rainy season.

The water supply works only twice per day for 150 families. They are allowed 3 x 80 litres for the day. Before Caño (water tap), the families had to buy water (1 sole for 10 litres) from the families in the legal houses behind. All that the Huaraz Municipal gives the town, are volunteers to help them recycle.

The people in the houses behind the town of Challua break the people of Challua's sewage pipes so that all of the sewage seeps into their backyards and smells terrible. They also throw their rubbish into their yards on purpose because they think it is wrong that they are there illegally. They then blame this on the people of Challua so that others will think that the town is disgusting.

A couple of days after my visit to Challua, I went back to meet Isabelle and some project managers from the organisation "Care". They had come to help try and build better water systems, and with the poor hygiene.

As a local spoke about her living conditions to the Care workers, a pig stood at our side snorting, while two chickens chased each other around madly on the dirt. She spoke about how she prevents the water getting into her houses during the wet season, and how she needed to keep building her house up.

Within the group, I met Francois, who came with the Care workers as part of an internship from May to August. He is from Canada, is studying water engineering, and wants to see what it's like to work with an NGO, compared with a Government run organisation. He told me that it is frustrating in NGO's sometimes because it takes so long to get things done.

Isabelle added "We hope for small victories all the time".

The smell of feces was stronger this time, as it was earlier in the afternoon, and hotter. The children have diarrhea two to three times per month, and don't want to travel far into the middle of the river to go to the toilet.

120 families here and a few families from another neighborhood with similar conditions are trying to apply to the government for ownership of their homes via possession papers. The current Mayor doesn't want to grant them this though, again because of the flooding situation in the wet season.

If you would like to find out more about, or help the town of Challua, contact Isabelle via the website www.peruseeds.org

SEEDS OF HOPE- HUARAZ

simonefrancis — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 01:08:00 GMT

When I first arrived at the Seeds of Hope volunteer house, I couldn’t help but notice the large amount of volunteers. I first had a conversation with Isabelle, who is originally from Belgium, and came here after taking a sabbatical from her job in Market research. She seemed a bit tired, and no wonder why... she has only had four days off since March!

Isabelle´s reason for volunteering at Seeds is because she loves children so much. She explained that in the first month, it is like a wave hitting you, as you try to understand the situation with the kids. Isabelle stresses that the children need structure, and are not getting this either at home or at school. She says they need creativity, as all they ever do at school is just copy information down from the blackboard. Because they are so focused on copying, they don´t even want to understand the task, and really need to be encouraged. Every day they reach a result with the children at Seeds, but it starts all over again because they go back to school... to the same routine.

Isabelle pulled together ideas and organised the schools schedule, together with a previous volunteer Sharon, who I was previously in contact with via the net. Every month they have a paseo (excursion), but if the children do not earn enough points, they are not allowed to go. In the 1st month, only half of the kids got to go, but in the second month, all of them went. On the paseo´s, when mini vans are hired, the places the children go to include the movies, the theatre, having sports days, and to the park to play. Two weeks ago, they even had a party for the older children, and are now working on one for the little kids.

Last year at Seeds, three children’s parents didn’t have enough money to send their children to school. Luckily the parents could afford it this year, with the help of Seeds paying for every single child at Seed’s school materials, and some uniforms. The three children who couldn’t go to school last year all have an eye condition, and Seed’s will soon be having a fundraiser so that they can all have an operation.

The majority of the children don’t feel motivated and have learning disabilities. The parents never check their homework, as most can’t read or write themselves. Most are behind in class levels, and the teaching methods are sometimes absurd. One child was told by his teacher at school to write down the numbers from 1,000 to 2,000 and accidentally wrote the numbers from 2,000 to 3,000. He cried because he knew that he would never have the time to re-do it and because he was going to get in trouble from his teacher. Another child who didn’t finish his homework was hit across the fingers.

Many of the teachers get frustrated with the children, and just don’t end up caring anymore. One day when Isabelle went with another woman to interview the teacher about teaching methods, she witnessed the children running around screaming! A lot of the teachers come from around the areas in the mountains and their level of education is very low. There is no creativity whatsoever when the children are being taught.

My first day at the Seeds of Hope school in Huaraz, I watched as the kids cuddled and kissed every volunteer, including me, before beginning class. There are 2 classes of about 25 children, one class from 9:30am-12am for the older kids (9-15 years) and one from 3:00pm-5:30pm for younger children aged 6-11 years.

Just before, when 9 volunteers from the house were walking to the school, I met Nancy who is from America, and was only volunteering for a couple of days. The volunteers at Seeds are here for a few days, a few weeks, a few months or sometimes a few years. Nancy said to me that people tell her what a selfless act it is that she is volunteering, but she explained to me that she feels it can also be a selfish act as she loves children and needs to improve her Spanish.

Jack is another volunteer here, and is a deputy Principal at a primary school back in America. He says he absolutely loves it here, and loves the fact that the children are so appreciative.

Betty is also here (the volunteer I met at Seeds of hope in Cusco). She has been here for a couple of days and seems to really be enjoying herself. I also met John Paul, a man from England who is volunteering here for about a week, and also Elvis, who is a local who has been working with different organisations that help kids for 3 years. Elvis has been at Seeds for 2 years.

Mark has been here for about 1 month on and off, and his sister Katie only just arrived a few days ago. They are from NY State, and love to go hiking in the mountains here in Huaraz and come back to Seeds to help. Mark says that other organisations charge too much money and here at Seeds, you pay to only cover your costs of housing, food and Spanish lessons... you can volunteer for free here if you live in another house. He feels like he can make a huge difference helping the children with English and Maths.

Mark says that everything that Seeds do, is so beneficial. Psychologists come and talk to the children, there are good hygiene practices, and small healthy meals each day for the kids. Mark feels the children really want to learn and are grateful for everything they receive here.

Even more volunteers kept appearing at the school and house, locals and international people who were all coming for different amounts of time.

During the morning I sat at the table with the children, and focused on teaching a young boy the English alphabet, while Yuri (the person who started Seeds of Hope), stood in the kitchen preparing Quaker (a drink made of porridge, water and milk) for the children. When the kids have finished their homework, they ask permission to go and play outside, and either skip, play soccer and volleyball, or just lay about doing their own thing. In the afternoon, I taught a 6 year old boy mathematics. Funnily enough I had to re-teach myself how to multiply it had been that long for me.

Seeds of Hope is now in the process of fundraising to build an additional room to the school so that they can meet individually with children and/or parents if there are any sensitive topics that need to be discussed. They are also fundraising to fix up the back yard so that the children can play.

Seeds is also in the process of opening a cafe and travel agency, where the volunteer house it located, to better fund the organisation, rather than just receiving donations.

If you would like to donate to, or volunteer at ´Seeds of Hope´, visit the website for more information: www.peruseeds.org

DEHANE IN YUNGAI

simonefrancis — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 13:10:00 GMT

During our time at the refuge, Jerome and I met a man named Carlos, plus a few of his friends. He kindly gave us some food before we finished our last hike, and invited us to stay at his house in Yungay for the night. We greatiously accepted.

Carlos´s whole family showed up at his pebble covered home, and told us how happy they were to have us visit... we told them how greatful we were for them to have us. They gave us a comfortable room with two comfortable beds, which was such a relief on our hips after sleeping on the hard ground while camping.

During the night i met with a young woman named Dehane Medine Mejia, who was volunteering for public schools for two years, and is now an english teacher at a private kindergarten called Nuestra Señara De La Paz. Every Christmas they bring clothes to poor people, and with her cousins she soon wants to open an organisation that helps poor people with nutrition and medical assistance, especially children.

The poor people in the area have no possibillity of going to a medical centre, to have an examination, or to have a healthy life. Dehane goes around giving lunch and clothes to poor people in the area every week, and is trying to get many ideas for helping into a reality.

It is hard for Dehane to open up this organisation, and she would love some assistance either with advice or donations. She doesn´t want a salary, she just wants to help by volunteering and giving a good future for the people in Yungay.

If you would like to help Dehane in any way, please contact her at dehaneroxona@yahoo.es

In the morning we sat with the whole family and were fed fish, bread, and a local creamy drink that I just couldn´t get enough of. We also finally got a shower after about 5 days, and then left to Huaraz, where Jerome stayed with another couchsurfer named victor, and I left for the Seeds of Hope volunteer house.

ESCUELA DE GUELA DE GUIAS "¨DON BOSCO EN ANDES".

simonefrancis — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 00:10:00 GMT

I continued my trip by bus to Huaraz with Jerome, a man from france who has been helping me alot with translations. As soon as we got to the town, we forwarded on to Yungai, and then up to Quebrada Llanganuco by taxi with another two travellers. We went up through the mountains into... well... the mountains, whilst following the Llanganuco river. We then hiked up the Yanapaqcha trail and along-side Pisco Mountain.

We woke up the first morning to the sound of cows licking the side of the tent, to the view of snow capped giant mountains, and to the sound of the flowing river beside us.

I could hear a glacier about to crumble above me... the cracking was loud and echoed across the valley. A sapphire and aqua coloured lagoon reflected the mountain glacier, and was surrounded by barren surroundings of millions of grey, loose, sharp pebbles and rocks. I touched the glassy water, and again listened to the sound of the tempted avalanche nearly 5,000 meters high into the clouds. One time Jerome and I freaked out and ran as fast as we could away from a mini avalanche. Being in nature again was definitely an inspiration for everything I am trying to do in my life.

The scariest, but funniest part of the hike was climbing across large white and grey boulders, which were sometimes only loosely held into the mountains by powdery dirt. Many times we slipped and had to grasp onto the few plants and other loose rocks, so that we wouldn´t tumble down to our deaths. We made it in three hours to the refuge (which is supposed to only take 1 1/2 hrs hahaha), and Jerome gave the cook some French lessons in exchange for food.

This was by far the best hike I have ever done in my life! It was so incredibly beautiful! I loved how the light snow floated with the movement of the wind, and created an almost movie feel against the mountain backdrop... so incredible.

Around every corner during the hike, the surrounding environment would constantly change... each time just as fascinatingly beautiful. Rocky red, brown, yellow and white peaks, with multi-coloured fungi pushing through the cracks. Being there made me feel even more strongly, that I would much prefer the cities of the world to have been left just as they were found... without concrete walls and without a sad longing for a breath of nature. You would be hard pressed to find a depressed soul in these wonderful surroundings.

We arrived at Pisco Peru Refuge , which is a hostel and restaurant where many people can volunteer... in fact, they are always looking for more volunteers. The refuge is run through an Italian organization called ´Operacion Motto Grosso´. They first began projects such as this one in Brazil in the 67´s, in the region many poor of Mato Grosso, and are now spread throughout Ecuador (16 missions) Peru (55 missions), Bolivia (9 missions) and Brasil (11 missions)

The refuge gets its money from Italy, where young people work weekends and their spare time (including their vacations), to help on projects of the refuge. The money made in the refuge from tourists goes towards building poor people´s houses. I was told there are many projects like this running throughout the mountains!

Since 1999 the twenty-five thousand young "Oratorianos" of the Andes have built 1.300 houses and 211 roofs for the poorest families of the Huaylas, Conchucos valley and then Huanuco, Cajamarca and Cusco states This has been possible thanks to the income produced from the mountain lodges. Besides that, the mountain Lodge produce local work for the portes (mule leaders and mule) who transport food, wood, and materials whit more than 800 trips per year to the three mountain lodge.

I met Marilena, an Italian volunteer here that helps out with things like cooking and cleaning. She also visits poor families in her spare time and washes their clothes and brings for them food. She informed me that it is free to volunteer at the refuge, and you are required to stay a minimum of 6 months.

Marilena says that the best part of volunteering at the refuge is that she is helping poor people. The hardest part for her is being available for all those who are in need. She also gave me the contact for Girncarlo Sardini, director of Escuela de Guias Don Bosco.

I ended up a few days later making my way to Marcara- Carhuaz, where I met with Giancarlo Sardini and his wife, at Escuela de Guias "Don Bosco en los Andes". Giancarlo used to be a computer programmer, and his wife Marina, a nurse. In 1990, Giancarlo left his job of 5-6 years, and opened up a social co operative with friends to help get young people, mainly around the age of 25, out of drug problems. The drug users would first go to rehabilitation, and Giancarlo and his friends would help re-connect them with practical work. In 1997, all of Giancalo´s family began volunteering. Giancarlo and Marina both now manage everything at Escuela de Guias Don Bosco and Anden's Lodge.

Escuela de Guias Don Bosco helps impoverished teenagers from 18 years of age, from the high of Ancash state, to become international mountain guides. There are about twenty poor students, (with no clue about tourism) from the countryside that are constantly in training to become guides. The trainees all live in the same place, and food, accommodation, administrative procedures, equipment, shoes and clothes are all provided during the training. They get some free time off to do what they choose including visiting their family.

Volunteers come from Italy to help in the training process, and after three years trainers decide who has the best ability for specific jobs such as a chef or a walking guide. Only about 6 out of 20 people make it to the starting point of training. The first year is mainly just theoretical training and carrying equipment for tourists, the second is becoming a middle mountain guide, and the third is becoming a high mountain guide. Total training lasts No one can work with tourism until they get their minimum qualification.

Inside their living quarters is a huge kitchen, and even a museum, which is filled with things to help them remember their experiences. There is even a helicopter, which they brought back in separate pieces, down from the mountains.

Their schedule involves waking up at 6am, meditation, preparing and eating food, playing football, and having theory or practical classes. Every year, the qualified guides give some money that they earn to a project running within the organization. This year they are putting their money into helping to build a house for poor people.

There is also another new project running, which is called Don Bosco 6000. This is a Travel Agency of trekking and climbing in the Cordillera Blanca. Don Bosco 6000 work in others countries like Ecuador (Chimborazo- Cotopaxi), Argentina (Aconcagua), Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego with trekking and climbing.

Giancarlo and Marina are currently working on opening to help with the costs of the organization. They receive money from Italy´s Operacion Motto Grosso young group, but have to find more themselves, as it is just not enough.

The first project running was in Brazil in a place called Motto Grosso. An Italian father Padre Ugo de Censi in a church helped manage this project with other volunteers, and without money from the church. He even to this day accepts atheists with no obligation to accept god, and speaks to people about concrete things to help bring action.

In 1992 one of the Voluntaries was murdered by terrorists. He was shot in the head twice, and had a sign left on his body saying "the charity makes the conscience sleep". The terrorist was obviously mad, and didn't want this volunteer helping people.

There aren't writes rules for the volunteers of the OMG, forty years ago there is not same rules until now write, but normally this organization live with, just the legalities put forward by the government.

The volunteers work using their morals and ethics, and base their lives on their actions, not their words. Their motto is ´Give life to others´.

If you would like to volunteer at Refugio Peru Pisco or send a donation to Escuela de Guias Don Bosco, write to andesdbosco@hotmail.com or call ++51-043-443061

www.rifugi-omg.org

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

IN LIMA AGAIN

simonefrancis — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 18:36:00 GMT

In Lima, I stayed with a couchsurfer named Felix for a night, and that is where I met Jerome, now a really good friend from France. Later, Jerome and I ended up staying with a couchsurfers friend named Juan Carlos, across the road from the beach in Miaflores, on the 7th floor of an incredible apartment. It was like a 5 star hotel with a huge room, bathroom with two sinks and toilets, and best of all... it was free!!

Juan is from Chiwawa Mexico, which was very convenient as Jerome has just lived in the same area for 4 years. While preparing a meal for Juan, I got to meet a few of his other friends from Mexico who were really sweet.

I met with Carmen Gomez again, and the filmmaker Tito (who I met when I first arrived in Lima). We had decided to go and film on Tuesday in Pamplona, but it ended up being post-poned due to poor timing. Jerome had been a massive help though, translating for me at random times when I was in deep need of help.

I hung out a bit with Carmen at her aunt´s house, met with some of her family, and taught her son and nephew some break dancing on the lounge room floor. I also interviewed her son and nephew about how they contribute at school to the children in Pamplona by giving their clothes away and doing other things to help. It is sometimes quite strange because Carmen and I are always thinking the exact same or very similar things around the same time as each other.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

PREPARING TO FILM

simonefrancis — Sat, 5 Jul 2008 11:15:00 GMT

Arequipa was like a little holiday from travelling for me. Yvan, another host from Couchsurfing let me stay in his house for free. I thought I´d only be there for one night, but we got along so well (like bro and sis), that I ended up chilling out with him for four.

Eating, sleeping, and watching videos was the major attraction for the four days. Some much needed rest was in order for my body after the array of food poisoning I obtained in Bolivia. Yvan and I were having so much fun together that it felt only right for us to spend some time dancing around together at random times to Latin hip hop, and wear shower robes about the house while having pretend boxing matches. (Yvan would wear a pink robe hahahaha).

And now, after a 16 hour bus ride, with crying, smelly babies surrounding me, i´m back in Lima.

Another Couchsurfer Felix (from Lima), and one of his guests Jerome (from France), picked me up from the bus terminal. I have had a really great time with them so far, and met many other couchsurfers at a fiesta last night.

In the past two days I have spoken with Carmen Gomez again, a proffessor of education, a doctor and an environmentalist about coming and visiting Pamplona. I would like to get their expertise on how we can improve the area. Tomorrow Carmen and I are meeting with some of them at 3pm to go to the shanty town. I also made contact again with the filmmakers I met last time in lima, and they will also hopefully be comming tomorrow to begin creating a documentary with me about Pamplona.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

FREDDY AND CORRUPT POLICE

simonefrancis — Fri, 4 Jul 2008 22:54:00 GMT

I met a couchsurfer named Freddy just before I had left for La Senda Verde, who was about 27 years old, was born in Bolivia, works in a travel agency, and also studies. He speaks English very well and also used to be a Spanish teacher, so you could just imagin how much my Spanish improved by chatting to him. We played dice games at a restaurant/ bar for a few hours that was filled with old Boliviano pictures, and had large metal ornaments, such as bycicles and scales hung from the celing and walls. After eating a good cheap meal at a local restaurant he knew of, we finally parted ways. I ended up having one more night in La Paz, after catching the bus back from La Senda Verde, and so decided to meet up with Freddy again. He took me out to a local bar, as it was a Friday night, where everyone was dancing in lines with their partners, and an MC shouted excitedly from a balcony. Later, a Boliviano/ Columbian folk band played. their music was fantastic, and consisted of a few guitars, including a minature one, drums, and a couple of bamboo pipe thingys. I needed to leave early as I was feeling ill once again, so I said goodbye to Freddy, went to my hostel, and crashed out. The next morning I bagan to make my way to Arequipa. First a bus to Copacabana, then another to the border (where the Boliviano police stole my passport, and then only gave it back after bribing me for money), then one to Puno, and then one finally to Arequipa.

The scenery was magnificent on the journey from Bolivia, but I felt so glad to be back in Peru again!!

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

LA SENDA VERDE- ANIMAL SANCTUARY

simonefrancis — Tue, 1 Jul 2008 07:30:00 GMT

TUESDAY NIGHT...

Hooray!! I´m just outside Coroico!! I can breathe again... I can live again!!! The drive here, even though it was getting dark, was fantastic! Marcelo and Vicky run the organisation ´La Senda Verde´, which is a sanctuary for rescued animals that have been harmed, or who´s parents have been killed by hunters.

During the 2 ½ hour drive out of the mountains, down towards the jungle, with a newly rescued monkey sitting in the back seat of the car (soon to be named Agapito), Marcelo fills my head with so much interesting information about animals and the environment. Like ´´Diego´´ he mentions the coca plantations, and how legally the amount planted should only be about 12, 000 hectares, but there is about 28, 000- 30, 000 hectares growing in Bolivia. I reconfirmed with Marcelo that that the Bolivian President is the head of all the coca plantations… perhaps a little corrupt if you ask me!?!

Marcelo also talks about someone who used to be a very good friend, and who he used to sent larger animals to, because his friend´s sanctuary was bigger and better for those animals. So he thought anyway… his so called ´´friend´´ was in fact re-selling the animals for money! Marcelo was so hurt and furious, and is obviously not friends with this greedy man any longer. I could straight away see how Marcelo really cares for the animals. I could tell by the way he was speaking and the things he said, that he truly wants to help make a positive difference to all animal´s lives for the long term.

When we arrived, I walked across a wooden bridge hanging over a rock filled river. Whilst noticing the raised temperature of the weather, I admired the silhouettes of dense, forest covered mountains. I made my way to the kitchen and briefly met a group of nice volunteers, while I was served a much needed, tasty hamburger and chips.

Marcelo was roaming around with a Spider monkey [the one that sleeps with a nappy on, in his and Vicky´s bed (Wara)] tucked under his shirt, half asleep. When I saw Wara´s face, I nearly died she was that cute! Wara is 18 months old, and only sleeps in Marcelo and Vicky´s bed because baby Spider monkeys usually stay with their parents until they are 2 years old. But Wara needed to be rescued, and doesn´t have a mother anymore.

I was then taken to a wooden cabin that was filled with a comfortable double bed, a clean toilet, a hot water shower, lamps, and a stairway to where a bunk-bed was. I totally never expect to have such comfortable accommodation. This was just an added bonus to the spectacular feeling of being smack-bang in the middle of nature! I felt so lucky, listening to the river flow, the crickets chirp harmoniously, and the surrounding chatter of birds and monkeys. I wanted that moment to last forever… I was so happy right then!

Irene, a local Bolivan worker at the sanctuary, helped me to get settled into my room. My Spanish interpretation of what she was trying to say was atrocious, and the majority of time I just looked at her blankly. She didn´t seem to mind at all though… we had a bit of a laugh.

WEDNESDAY…

I woke up, and walked outside to see the volunteers preparing to feed the animals. Within the sanctuary there are four types of monkeys (Spider, Squirrel, Capuchin and Howler), ducks, rabbits, loads of birds, dogs, cats, a donkey, an ocelot, a snake, coatis (Look part ant eater, part raccoon), turtles, guinea pigs, pigs, and a snake.

There were four international volunteers looking after the animals at the sanctuary. Birger and Sophie (a couple in their mid 20´s from Belgium), and Lorena and Sara who from Switzerland and were also in their youth. Anna, a qualified veterinary nurse from New Zealand, has been volunteering at the sanctuary for almost a month.

When I asked the volunteers what their experience had been like so far, and if they liked it at La Senda Verde, they said they really felt like they were helping here, and it was great to be in nature… in paradise, and so relaxed. They also told me how they had built such fantastic relationships with many of the animals. For example, one of the monkeys Luna, who was so shy at first, now jumps all over the volunteers.

Feeding times for the animals are at 8am, 12pm and 5pm. The volunteers always take the dogs for a walk in the morning, and sometimes in the afternoon, which they love, because the scenery is so lovely. From about 3-5pm, Gravity cyclists come to eat at the restaurant and admire the animals. The volunteers inform the bikers of the rules, including no touching or feeding the animals, and taking photos without a flash. Apart from the volunteers and regular staff, no one is allowed to touch any of the animals without permission and/ or supervision. All of the money that tourists spend in the restaurant and for accommodation goes directly to the cost of caring for the animals.

THURSDAY…

There is one monkey, Luna, who is only about 5 years old, but seems a little crazy. She darts her eyes all over the place and jumps side to side in an uncontrollable fashion. Poor Luna must have been treated so badly before she was rescued, as I was told this was psychological behavior.

One of the other monkeys, Martin, is always so friendly towards people, and jumped up to hug me whenever I passed by. He unfortunately had his teeth pulled by his previous owners, so that he wouldn´t bite them. Another smaller, fluffier, male monkey named Kimbo was really cute, but when he climbed onto the back of my neck, he sometimes really dug his nails into my skin! Seresa, a motherly female monkey, was constantly either trying to undo my fly, or steal keys or lip balm out of my pockets. One pair of pants I own, has 6 pockets… and she searched every single one of them!

FRIDAY…

It was so funny to watch all of the animals play together. The Spider monkeys tips and antagonizes the dogs and coatis, the dog playfully attacks the coatis and Spider monkeys, and the Capuchin monkeys throw stones or anything else they can find at the dogs! The birds and monkeys also attack one another, as do the cats and the dogs. I saw one poor cat getting humped by the two squirrel monkeys!

At times all was silent, but then suddenly, all of the animals would go crazy and loud all at the same time! They would all start squawking, barking, squealing, and making random noises together, whilst jumping and running about!

The volunteers were all leaving soon, and I wasn´t quite sure whether to go, or stay another few days until the new volunteers arrived. I had sand-fly bites, and still do two weeks later, covering my entire body! My arms, back, and legs were devastatingly itchy, and I thought at the time why things couldn´t just remain perfect… why there always has to be something downing a great experience. I hardly slept I was scratching, or trying not to scratch all night! I was also moved to a smaller cabin without the finer luxuries such as a bathroom, but it was still pretty nice, so I was more than happy with this arrangement.

I had helped Edgar (a local worker at the sanctuary, who is training to become a vet) during the morning make fresh pasta, as is done each and every day in a separate section across from the restaurant. Edgar tells me how there used to be no room for the pasta making, which was extremely hard, as the animals would always steal the dough! They still try to now, but it is no where near as hard keeping them away now with a screened area.

SATURDAY…

All of the volunteers had left by the afternoon, leaving me to feed all of the animals alone! The birds were the hardest to feed because the cheeky Spider monkeys kept stealing all the food that I would leave out on the bird´s perches.

I later hung out with the monkeys again, as I usually did in my spare time. It was insane to watch two of the monkeys Martin and Kimbo (a 6 month old who looks like Gismo from the movie ´Gremlins´), as they lay in my arms, talking to each other. It was obviously monkey chit-chat, but nevertheless, I found it bizarrely human like.

I later went into the restaurant with David (a local worker at the sanctuary), and we gave each other Spanish and English lessons. Then all of the kitchen staff, Vicky, Marcelo, David and a few others including children, all sat down together to eat a meal, cooked by a new Hungarian staff member. It was a little spicy, and tasted great!

SUNDAY…

Today, I took care of nearly all the animals by myself. I fed the birds, rabbits, turtles, dogs, and most of the monkeys… it was a long day. I had a little help from David with feeding the scary and sometimes quite dangerous monkeys. In the afternoon, I had to ask for David´s and Edgar´s help, as I unleashed one of the monkeys Mirka (who only has one eye), to untangle her rope, and managed to let her run away. It was a day of accidents for me, as somehow I had also managed to block the sink that morning with food scraps. Luckily David was there too to lend a hand.

By this stage, I had had three dogs living by my side constantly… two golden retrievers, Boris and Limon, and a skinny similar coloured dog named Flaca (meaning skinny in Spanish). They also decided to take up residency in my room for the afternoons that I would let them crash on the floor.

Once again in the evening, I had Spanish and English lessons with David, which was great as usual.

During the night, the three dogs persisted out the front of my door. They scratched and yelped, and wouldn´t let me sleep!

MONDAY…

At a ridiculous hour of the morning, I ended up having to change rooms into the area where the volunteers were previously sleeping in. When I got up the next day after a series of nightmares, which seemed to be a common occurrence for me during the first part of my stay, I fed the animals. I was so tired, that when I went to feed Mirka (the one eyed monkey), and continue trying to put her back on her leash, she bit my pinky finger really hard and broke through the skin.

During breakfast in the restaurant, with the dogs still following my every footstep, Margarita (a coati), tried to steal my food. By this stage I was so fed up and tired, that I embarrassingly enough burst out crying in front of the kitchen staff!! I´m certain now though that a major factor contributing to this outburst was my raging hormone levels! I then took the dogs for a nice calming walk so that I could chill out a bit.

My day got much better. I interviewed Edgar about his experiences working at the sanctuary, and later went to Coroico for the first time (which was lovely) with Vicky, her daughter Carolina, her son Rodriguo, and her son´s girlfriend Lorietta. Strangely enough, I found out that I know Lorietta´s friend´s sister from Sydney! And another thing!! The day before… I had met with two women at the sanctuary who I had also briefly met in Para Los Niños in La Paz! Bizarre!

It was San Juan night in Bolivia, which means that everyone starts fires because it is supposedly the coldest night of the year. Everyone also eats hot dogs… so that was what was on the menu for dinner. I had a great time standing around a fire with everyone in a dry river bed, drinking Tiger milk, even though I still felt a bit like the dog lady. I never got 30 seconds to myself with the herd of dogs following me absolutely everywhere!

Carolina (Vicky´s daughter), told me a bit about one of the human rights situations. Eight babies a day are thrown into the bin!! This is possibly… probably, because abortion is illegal in Bolivia. It is only considered legal to abort a child if the baby was conceived from a family member, due to a rape, or to save a mother´s life. The only other way is to get a judge to overrule this law, but this is almost impossible as the judge would then be breaking a law… so this is quite contradictory.

TUESDAY…

I had a cold and so spent most of the day roaming in and out of bed. Lunch was hilarious… a Howler monkey named Chica, snuck inside the restaurant and stole a handful of pasta from a cyclist´s plate! Apart from that, I found it a pretty quiet day, and spent the rest of my time cuddling the monkeys and walking the dogs.

Chris and Lisa, a young couple from England arrived in the evening, and had come to begin volunteering. They had never done anything quite like this before, and seemed quite excited.

WEDNESDAY…

When I asked Chris and Lisa for their first impressions of volunteering at ´La Senda Verde´, they both had quite similar responses. They both said that although there was a lot to first take in, it was great learning with a monkey sitting on your head or shoulder, and being well away from some boring old office environment. Both Chris and Lisa seemed to immediately connect very well with all of the animals. Even the very shy animals that can take a few days to approach a stranger, crawled all over them on the very first day!

Before, when they were in England, Lisa was doing admin work in a university and Chris was working for a telecommunications company. They constantly mentioned how glad they were that they had decided to travel. Now I´m sure they feel the same way about coming to volunteer at ´La Senda Verde´.

THURSDAY…

According to my schedule, I was supposed to have left by today. Unfortunately, I was once again kept up the whole night by a series of violent vomiting from all areas of my body! I spent about 96% of my day in bed, and left really only to visit the much needed bathroom. It felt like a marathon, just getting up to eat a tiny bit of potato at the restaurant, but luckily I did, because I got to meet Camillo.

Camillo is a newly rescued monkey, who is only a few months old. Although he was skinny and a little nervous, he was definitely the most adorable monkey I have ever laid eyes on! He was rescued from the forest after his mother was hunted for food. It´s a shame I couldn´t spend too much time with him, as my legs were almost certainly going to buckle they felt so weak.

Thank goodness Anna had swapped her book with me! I had finished mine, which was about a woman who lived unwillingly under the Taliban regime, and then at least I could have something to do between unbearable stomach cramps.

Apart from the sickness, as I seemed to constantly be getting throughout Bolivia, the ´La Senda Verde´ experience was an incredibly positive experience that I can honestly say has changed my life for the better. What place couldn´t that cares so deeply for misfortunate animals, and with such pure intent, puts their needs first.

If you would like to volunteer at, or support ´La Senda Verde´, email Vicky at vossiop@gmail.com or go to the website http://www.lasendaverde.com/

Also, feel free to join the La Senda Verde Facebook group.

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

RIOT IN THE STREET!!

simonefrancis — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 16:02:00 GMT

For my last night in La Paz, I decided to go and watch the football (Soccer) match Bolivia versus Chile, with Arnaud, Beth, Luis and his son. When we arrived, we noticed that the stadium was filled with about 95% Bolivian people, all chanting songs and rearing to go!!

Unfortunately Bolivia lost 2 to 0, and I don´t think I have ever seen a crowd so disappointed. The small group, of Chileans were going crazy with excitement though... and that´s about when we decided to try and find where they were all going to celebrate!

During our search through the streets for a Chilean fiesta, we ran into a small riot!! I thought I´d be ok up on a bridge, where I could watch what was happening safely. Little did I know that hundrens of police with electric prodders were making their way up onto the bridge to scare everyone away.

Everyone was freaked out and piling down the bridge stairs! I was calling for Arnaud and Beth who were a fair bit ahead of me down the stairs, and were also majorly hyped with fearful excitement. All we could hear was electric currents being zapped all around us, and we wern´t really sure which direction to run.

We managed to escape un-zapped, and continued our way down the street that was filled with probably a thousand, ready to roll police. Then we entered into a bar where there were many celebrating Chileans, who we had a fantastic night dancing and chatting with.

I must admit, I think I didn´t quite like La Paz due to the fact I have been so ill and grumpy lately... but I had such an amazing time here yesterday!!

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

HELPING HANDS

simonefrancis — Mon, 16 Jun 2008 15:41:00 GMT

Linda was very kind when she welcomed me into her home yesterday. She lives on the outskirts of La Paz, in a lovely town surrounded by huge, jagged rock formations, one of which is known as ´Devil´s Tooth´.

Linda shows me one of her husband´s creations in progress, which takes up nearly half the decent sized backyard. She tells me how he makes pieces such as dinosaurs for museums, and then she pops off to be a delightful host, bringing back tea and biscuits.

Linda first opened a Library at a boys home about 7 years, and has been coordinator of ´Helping Hands´ for about 5 years. She did both of these things to help poorer students be able to continue with their studies. Most of the students can´t work because they are studying full time... and even if they did, they almost certainly still wouldn´t be able to afford basics such as food.

A great project that the students are working on at the moment involves making Manilas (colourful bracelets and necklaces). Rather than just waiting for donations, they can then sell these bracelets and manage to make enough for their basic necessities.

Anyone in Australia or any other country can buy a bag of these inexpensive bracelets. They can then either make a profit for themselves, or can hold a sort of fundraiser for with the money being sent back to ´Helping Hands´.

If you would like to volunteer (Free to volunteer at), donate or purchase some manila bracelets, please contact Linda at rlzarate@acelerate.com or visit www.helping-hands.cc

If you would like to volunteer here or at another creative volunteer project, and want everything set up nice and easily for you, including accommodation and insurance, please visit www.creative-corners.com

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!

simonefrancis — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 17:20:00 GMT

There was a huge fiesta in the street, around the corner from where Arnaud, Beth, and I are living. Hundreds of people flocked into the streets, many dancing and dressed in colourful costumes (supposedly worth about 2000 Bolivianos each!) with large bells scaled up the side of their legs.

There was a 40 piece band marching down the street, and loads of men spinning noisy toy truck instruments in the air. Arnoud was outraged when a Chokita (peasant woman from the country) was roaming the streets drunk, with a baby strapped to her back. Unfortunately, I was unable to stay for very long at the fiesta... I was still feeling very ill.

My health keeps slightly improving... then dissintegrating rapidly. I have taken all courses of action healthwise, but have come to the conclusion that I have guiardia. Poor Arnaud and Beth have been bearing the brunt of my major negative mood swings! I´m no fun at the moment, and have been constantly biting peoples heads off and complaining about nearly everything!

I have however managed to interviview Joanne, Beth, Arnaud, ¨Diego¨, and Linda (The Co-ordinator of Helping Hands), on video over he past few days. On Monday I will be picked up by the directors of an animal sanctuary, and taken to Coroico. Perhaps out of this city La Paz, which I am not too fond of, I will get some fresh air and rest.

Many people absoloutly love it here in La Paz, but to be perfectly honest, I can´t stand it! I would never be able to stay in a city for longer than a week that spewed out fumes from nearly every vehicle, left, right and centre! I can´t stand it... I HATE IT! HELLO BOLIVIAN GOVERNMENT... GET YOUR ACT CLEANED UP! The amount of pollution released here is repulsive and totally unacceptable for every human´s standards. Children´s lungs are drowning in chemicals!! Just because this city doesn´t hold much of the pollution around the city, doesn´t mean it isn´t pollouting the rest of the world!

Since I arrived, I have noticed that people protest on just about everything! I think it´s about time that the locals here protest about the secondhand Brazillian buses on the streets!

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM

WHAT´S UP WITH BOLIVIA???

simonefrancis — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 03:20:00 GMT

I met with ´´Diego´´ (false name used to protect himself and his family). He pumped my brain so full of information, that I don´t even know where to begin! I videoed the whole conversation, so that at least people will sooner or later hear about the incredibly important issues he spoke about.

The Bolivian government supposedly spends about $250,000 per week on advertising... and some orphanages don´t even have shampoo?? I have also been made aware that whenever there is a crisis in Bolivia, the president will speak with Venezuela´s and Cuba´s leaders, for god knows what reason!

Diego speaks of the animal rights abuses taking place here in the witch´s markets... Condor bird´s wings are found chopped off, and as I saw with my own eyes, there are Jaguar skins and whole, dead baby Llamas strung up by the dozen. He rolls stories off the tongue about children being electrocuted by their alcoholic parents, and forests being wiped out by Cocoa plantations.

Later, as I walk down the street with the view of sparkling homes sunk into the surrounding mountains, I dodge piles of garbage at every street corner. Dogs are savagely ripping apart the leftovers of the city, and women, with children hugged to their backs with colourful cloth, are also picking at the remains in the gutters.

Since the day I arrived here, I have felt a strange vibe building. Diego talks of things perhaps going hay-wire here over the next few months. He says Bolivia is continually unstable and that it could become very dangerous for foreigners soon. Already there is hatred towards Americans brewing. Beth told me she saw a lady the other day who was being harassed and beaten over the head by the fists of locals... just for being American.

The other night, Beth and I heard banging noises, and we weren´t sure if it was dynamite being thrown, gun shots... or what! We laughed a fair bit when we soon saw fireworks lighting up the sky.

Who knows what´s around the corner for Bolivia?

FOR FURTHER INFORMATION ABOUT THE NOMADIC HANDS JOURNEY GO TO WWW.NOMADICHANDS.COM