Nomadic Hands

My Photo scholarship 2011 entry

simonefrancis — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 01:45:10 GMT

I’d love to win the scholarship and improve my photographic skills alongside such a professional as Jason Edwards. I love photography as it‘s aligned with my passions of creativity and adventure travel. I enjoy taking pictures of nature and culture that may no longer be in existence soon. The assignment would help me to be a better photographer technically, more diverse, and more capable of bringing awareness to people about our earth’s state. I’d also like to share the newly learned knowledge with others. It’d be a great honor to assist Jason through this assignment, listening to direction and focusing with positivity during each task. Through such an experience I could improve my technical skills and photographic diversity. I’d like to create economic sustainability for community projects I run, and sell photos at exhibitions, online or in galleries. Taken during a volunteer journey throughout South America, they signify the disconnection of monkeys to nature due to human animal’s actions, and each person’s silent longing to reconnect with nature as animals such as monkeys naturally do: “Just Like You”: A monkey’s (Martin’s) hand lying on top of mine. Taken in a Bolivian animal sanctuary where many animals had previously been mistreated. Martin became a close friend. “Hitch Hiking” reveals the domestication of moneys within an Ecuadorian Amazon community. Monkeys are tied to poles or sold to the nearby cities. The monkeys face reveals his terror. “Burnout”: Taken in Tefe, Brazil in a musician’s house, blasting metal music continued daily as the band practiced for a New Years Eve performance alongside the singers pet monkey. “Returning”: Shot in Ecuador’s Amazon, demonstrates mans capabilities to create useful items such as backpacks, purely from nature.

Gallery: Argentina

simonefrancis — Wed, 1 Apr 2009 11:16:00 GMT

SPEEDING THROUGH LATIN AMERICA

simonefrancis — Wed, 1 Apr 2009 10:57:00 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 — Sat, 14 Mar 2009 02:51:00 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 — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 02:15:00 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 — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 03:04:00 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 — Sat, 14 Feb 2009 03:01:00 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 — Sat, 31 Jan 2009 07:15:00 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 — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 08:15:00 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

Gallery: BRAZIL

simonefrancis — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 07:19:00 GMT

PEACE VILLAGES FOUNDATION (FUNDACION ALDEAS DE PAZ)

simonefrancis — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 11:42:00 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 11:37:00 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 — Wed, 10 Dec 2008 02:46:00 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 — Wed, 3 Dec 2008 06:15:00 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 — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 06:22:00 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.

Gallery: VENEZUELA

simonefrancis — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 05:51:00 GMT

COLOMBIAN CULTURE

simonefrancis — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 03:52:00 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 — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 09:27:00 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 12:48:00 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 — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 07:07:00 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 — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 03:58:00 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 — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:24:00 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.

Gallery: COLOMBIA

simonefrancis — Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:20:00 GMT

FLOWERS TO GUNS

simonefrancis — Fri, 17 Oct 2008 02:35:00 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 — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 02:29:00 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.