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| Chiriuchu |
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| Our last week in Cusco |
Our last week in Cusco was inevitably eventful, as we tried
to make the most of our remaining time in the place we called home for ten
weeks. We played laughter-filled games of Pictionary with our host family,
visited our favorite coffee shop, juice stand, breakfast nook, pizza restaurant
and, against better judgment, I tried cuy (guinea pig) at a weekend festival.
Technically the plate in which I sampled is called “chiriuchu” or “cold plate”
in Quechua and it should be noted that this is not the recommended, nor the
traditional manner in which to first try cuy. The platter consisted of cold
chicken, a variety of cold, sausage-like meats, a portion of fried cuy,
seaweed, squeaky cheese, fish eggs, and hot red pepper. Alex, who had full
intention of sharing the plate with me, took one small nibble and immediately
threw down his napkin, refusing to take part in the sampling.
However, with the urge to “live in the moment” and not miss
out on anything, I evaluated and tested a bit of everything on the plate.
It took about forty-five minutes for the food poisoning to
kick-in.
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| Some of the girls with their Barbies |
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| Julieta's collage |
We spent our afternoons crafting like we’d never crafted
before - making a variety of beautiful Barbie clothes, colorful magazine
collages, and sincere birthday cards for my mom. On my last day we had a
fiesta. I brought in bags of chips, boxes of cookies, and bottles of soda and
after feasting on the snacks, we had a dance party where each girl showed off
their best groove. I was able to get my hands on a bunch of leftover balloons
from New Year’s and we played the game where two groups race to pop all of
their balloons by having each member run up and sit on the balloon until it explodes.
It was absolutely hilarious. The best part of my day, however, and arguably the
best part of my time in Cusco, was when we went outside and I made cups-full of
fake snow. My mom sent me two tubes of “Just-add-water Snow Powder” and it was
actually really neat – a little powder, a little water and voilà! We had snow!
Though the girls knew what snow was, none of them had ever played with it
before and the joy those little white, fake snowflakes brought to their faces
was priceless. They wasted no time making the most of the snow and, within
seconds, did what any kid does with snow – started a snow fight.
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| The snow was a hit |
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| The greatest group of girls in Peru |
After all the balloons were popped, after the snow was
thrown, and after the chip bags were emptied I did what I’d been dreading for
weeks and I said my goodbyes. I’m naturally horrible at goodbyes – they make me
feel like I’m getting beat with pillowcases full of soap and I almost always cry (ask my mom – it literally
took me over an hour to say goodbye to my college roommates). But no amount of
preparation or strength could have blunted the pain of saying goodbye to the
thirteen girls who magically changed my life over a short ten weeks. After
multiple rounds of hugs I tried to walk out the door, but it’s quite hard to do
when you have thirteen little pairs of arms wrapped around your waist. Through
the tears, I promised them I’d be back and I told them I loved them and, after
they let go, I left.
I can say with 100% certainty that I will never forget those
precious faces, high pitched giggles or the incredible way they so easily
opened their hearts and lives to me.
(To check out a video of my last day - click here)
(To check out a video of my last day - click here)
I returned home to an incredibly sick Alex, who, as our bad
luck would have it, was wilting away in bed with a very mysterious, very
intense bought of stomach infection.
Considering we had a full day of travel ahead of us (as well as a week
full of beach-sitting in Costa Rica) we decided it was in both of our best
interests if he went to the clinic he so fortunately volunteered with to get an
IV and a little medical attention. The nurses were bummed to see him so sick,
but all three of them did their best to insure he received superlative care.
One bag of saline, three doses of medicine and one hour later Alex was on his
way to revival and we headed home for a little more quality time with our host
family.
Our five AM wake-up call came entirely too early. I thought
it was hard saying goodbye to the girls at the orphanage, but that hardly
compared to heartache filled goodbye we had with Jully and Percy.
I want to take a second to impress on how amazing our Cusco
family was. I figured, when I signed up to volunteer and live with a host
family, that Alex and I were going to be put up with a family who is happy to
have visitors, but who could truly care less about who we actually were or what
we did. Jully and Percy, Fernando and Mauricio were the exact opposite. Never
in my life did I imagine we would become part of a family so loving and so
willing to not only accept us into their home and life, but to go out of their
way to make us feel at home and welcome us into their hearts. They truly are an
incredible, rare family and without them, our time in Cusco wouldn’t have been
half as wonderful as it was.
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| View of the Andes |
With that said, you can imagine how hard it was to leave
them. The second Jully hugged Alex she burst into tears, which, of course,
broke the weak dam of tears I’d been building ever since leaving the orphanage.
After exchanging multiple rounds of hugs, assuring a return and promising to
stay in touch, Percy hailed us a cab and, just like that, we were off to the
airport with the first chapter of our trip rapidly coming to a close.
We flew from Cusco to Lima over the majestic Andes Mountains
and, with Peru’s stamp fresh in the “Departures” section of our passports,
boarded the plane to San Jose, Costa Rica.
A three-hour plane ride and five-hour bus ride later, we
arrived in the quaint town of Puerto Viejo.
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| The beautiful beach |
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| Our little cottage |
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| A SMALL section of the ants... |
I’d found a great deal on a small, perfect little house off
VRBO and after tracking down the owner, we settled into our humble abode and
were quickly lulled to sleep by the croaks of tree frogs and bellows of howler monkeys. Except for one incident, our trip was incredible uneventful. We
returned home on the first day to find thousands of ants trailing from the
front to the back door. Naturally I panicked and grabbed the broom, bringing
destruction to their clan until I accepted defeat and ran next door to the
owner. She comforted us by calmly explaining that they are Cleaner Ants, also
known as Army Ants, who go from house to house scouring the floorboards for
dead moths and other deceased insects and carry them away. After about twenty
minutes they make their way to another house, leaving the floors spotless. They are generally welcomed and people just
leave or put their feet up for half-an-hour and let the ants do their work. So
that’s exactly what we did. We went out to dinner and listened to a live band
and about two hours later returned home… to a house full of even more ants.
Luckily they were strictly staying on the floor, so we apologized for
destroying their process and went to bed, hoping to wake up to a clean house.
Well, it didn’t happen. The ants were still there when we woke up, were still
there when we returned home in the evening after the beach, were still there
the next morning when we woke up and again when we returned from the beach.
After spending about an hour closely observing them, and watching them
temporarily paralyze one another with bites (and their bites HURT) I realized
that we should immediately get National Geographic on the phone because the
Army Ants were waging war in our kitchen. Since the ants clearly couldn’t come
to a truce, Alex and I decided to make a truce for them. We armed ourselves
with brooms and ant-poison and went to town viciously sweeping, destroying and
annihilating any and all ants we came across. Thankfully our tactic worked and we
remained ant-free for the remainder of our vacation.
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| Homemade quesadillas on the back patio |
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| Alex playing in the waves |
Now, I wish I could tell you the rest of our week was packed
full of interesting, adrenaline pumping activities, but we honestly had the
most laid-back week possible. We made our own meals for the first time in about
eleven weeks, spent our days lounging and reading on the beautiful beaches,
playing in the aqua blue waves of the Caribbean and biking along the jungle roads
and at night we’d play pool and listen to live music at various cabana
restaurants. As with all vacations, the end came entirely too fast and before
we knew it we were on the bus headed back to San Jose.
Late on Sunday morning we said “hasta la vista” to beautiful
Costa Rica and caught a flight to Guatemala City, were we began the third
chapter of our travels. And boy did this chapter get off to an exciting start. Due
to our afternoon arrival, Alex and I were instructed by our volunteer program
to stay in Guatemala City for the night and catch the five AM bus to Xela, our
volunteer city, on Monday morning. Considering it was Super Bowl Sunday we
checked into our hotel and immediately left in search of a restaurant that was
playing the game… in English. We settled into a booth at nice sports restaurant
minutes before kick-off and spent the rest of the game enjoying Guatemalan beer
and typical American bar food.
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| In the restaurant where we watched the Super Bowl |
Again, as our bad luck would have it, we were back at the
hotel for no more than thirty minutes before I submitted to a second bout of
food poisoning. I’ll spare you the details, but if you’ve ever had food
poisoning, you’ll know that I definitely wasn’t in any shape to ride a rickety,
stuffy, third-world-country bus for three hours through winding, bumpy
Guatemalan roads. Alex, bless his heart, canceled our early-morning pick up
with the front desk which was a good thing because literally minutes after his
request, he himself was gripped by the foul claws of the food poisoning and the
two of us, pathetic creatures, spent our first day in Guatemala violently ill,
sipping Gatorade and watching Spanish television in between alternating trips
to the bathroom.
Better late than never, we mustered the strength and made it
to Xela a day later than expected, where we were met by our in country
coordinator and taken to meet our new host family. Teresa, our host mother,
lives in a three-family complex with her two children Andrea and Roberto. We
were first put in a bedroom that was about eight-by-ten feet and the only
present piece of furniture was a small twin/full bed and one pillow. We
literally couldn’t put on jackets without punching each other in the face. I
don’t know if Teresa wasn’t expecting us to be as big as we are or what, but
the next day she had us switch rooms with her kids to a room with two beds and
a dresser. Our bathroom (which we are currently sharing with a family of slugs)
is downstairs in the garage and our shower runs off electricity that can’t be
on for more than ten minutes. We have no television or internet, which is bad
in that we can’t communicate as easily with friends and family, but is good in
the fact that Alex and I have both already finished 300+ page books and, thanks
to a great bookstore, will be doing a lot more reading, studying and writing.
The best part of our new house is that we have access to the roof where I get
to watch the sun set on Volcán Santa Maria every night.
On Tuesday we were introduced to our new volunteer programs.
Alex is shadowing a Gastroenterologist at Rodolfo Robles
Hospital, a large public hospital in the corner of town, where he helps attend
to patients and is building a good relationship with the doctor who challenges
him and is encouraging his learning of medicine.
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| View f the city coming down from our hike. |
I am working with program called Proyectro Profamilia. It’s
a small organization, run by an extremely generous woman named Gloria. The
program assists extremely impoverished children with English classes, computer
classes, handicrafts, cooking and they also provide free medical clinics every
last Saturday of the month. Each afternoon I help two other women prepare and
serve eighteen children lunch and afterwards I spend an hour teaching English
to ten hungry-for-knowledge children.
We spent our first weekend hiking one of the many trails
outside the city and were rewarded with an amazing view of the city. We also
listened to a fantastic, live reggae-fusion band and experienced a little of
what this city’s nightlife has to offer.
Considering we have barley been here for a week, Alex and I
are both still settling in and trying to find our groove here in Xela. We miss
Cusco and are both feeling a little homesick, but I think that’s to be expected
after three months of being in a foreign country. Regardless, we are grateful
to be in this beautiful city, surrounded by volcanoes and are excited to see
what Guatemala country has to offer. Stay tuned for updates on the adventures
of Phase Three!
And, as always, thanks for reading!
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| Xela |
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