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Kearney Volunteers
And so with a heavy heart I left Pisco Sin Fronteras.
On my last week I was lucky enough to work at Cesara's house with Texas Dave, Elisa, Natalie and Amanda. We poured a small concrete floor and put up a bamboo roof. On our last day we had a fiesta with the family. Those volunteers who had worked on Cesara's house previously also came along, Sophie, Pucc and the Wolf. The family cooked us fried chicken and taught us how to make Pisco Sours. We bought a game of Twister and showed the kids how to fall over. It was a fantastic day and it was special for me to see a project completed before I left and to see the results that we are leaving behind for the family.
My last weekend in Pisco was a lot of fun. On Friday night, myself and the Wolf organised a speed-dating night to raise money para los ninos. We picked up some cheap fabric in the market which we used as tablecloths and we decked out each station with candles. The tables we used were those built by PSF carpenters para los ninos and we ran a cocktail bar to help people get the conversational juices flowing. I put together a playlist on my Ipod by way of background music to the dates, a bizarre combination of Frank Sinatra, Carla Bruni and Westlife. Everyone had a really fun night and we made 250 soles on registration and 400 soles at the bar. That's 140 quid clean profit para los ninos. We went out the next day and bought teaching materials and a really good blackboard for the El Molino Ludateca, which is a day care centre in one of the gnarliest slum areas of Pisco. On the Saturday night we had a Burning Man party. A large man was constructed from the leftover timber we receive from Aceros Arequipa and we burnt him to the ground at Pisco beach, amongst fire-dancing and fireworks.
On the Sunday evening it was time to deliver on our promises from the Silent Auction which had taken place the previous week. Fintan and Biba had bid and won para los ninos a romantic dinner in Pisco, a rarity due to the absence of nice restaurants and the lack of privacy. We set them up on top of a hostel rooftop, and Rob, a chef at home, put together a four course meal which I think blew the couple away. I played some live music for them in the background, with Jordan adding some light percussion and Sophie delivering one of the most beautiful renditions of Damien Rice's '9 Crimes' I have ever heard. The whole evening was a lot of fun to be a part of and Biba jokingly stated at the morning meeting on Monday that it was the most romantic thing Fintan had ever done.
A group of five of us left PSF together on Monday and headed to Huacachina, a nearby party town. There, we went on a thrill ride in an areneros dune buggy into the local desert and did some sand-boarding under the melting afternoon sun. Several night buses later we arrived in Chivay and Cabanaconde, quiet rural villages where we based ourselves for a spectacular hike into Colca Canyon. Here I felt like I was in real Peru. We stood on cramped buses hanging off the side of a cliff for hours at a time to get there. Donkeys passed us where we walked. Traditional wear was the order of the day and not just worn for the benefit of the gringos. The pace of life was slow and for me very refreshing.
Colca Canyon is the deepest canyon in the world (4,160m) and more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the United States. We walked down into it and stayed at Sangalle at the bottom, which is effectively a little oasis with basic camping and bungalows. We had no electricity so the five of us ate the sopa prepared by the elderly canyon woman and played card games under candle and star light with some hot chocolate and rum and warm alpaca jumpers. The climb back up the next day was challenging to say the least, step after step after step up and up and out of the canyon. I felt like a prisoner to the blazing sun. And our reward at the top? Another seven hour bus journey, mostly standing, back to Arequipa, where we have been recharging our batteries and enjoying again all the conveniences that a city offers.
Despite the exhilaration of the sand-boarding and the amazing views from deep in the Canyon, my thoughts have largely been back in Pisco this week. There are people at PSF that I will really miss and I was blown away by the initiative and leadership of such a varied group of people. The whole vibe around PSF is truly special and I will cherish the time I spent there. But Cusco lies on the horizon, and it both excites and worries me in equal measure. It is a picture of ruins and churches, laden with overwhelming gringo energy, the base for unique treks and stunning views. But it is also going to be expensive. And my pockets are far from deep. There is no such thing as a free lunch. Even in Peru.
On my last week I was lucky enough to work at Cesara's house with Texas Dave, Elisa, Natalie and Amanda. We poured a small concrete floor and put up a bamboo roof. On our last day we had a fiesta with the family. Those volunteers who had worked on Cesara's house previously also came along, Sophie, Pucc and the Wolf. The family cooked us fried chicken and taught us how to make Pisco Sours. We bought a game of Twister and showed the kids how to fall over. It was a fantastic day and it was special for me to see a project completed before I left and to see the results that we are leaving behind for the family.
My last weekend in Pisco was a lot of fun. On Friday night, myself and the Wolf organised a speed-dating night to raise money para los ninos. We picked up some cheap fabric in the market which we used as tablecloths and we decked out each station with candles. The tables we used were those built by PSF carpenters para los ninos and we ran a cocktail bar to help people get the conversational juices flowing. I put together a playlist on my Ipod by way of background music to the dates, a bizarre combination of Frank Sinatra, Carla Bruni and Westlife. Everyone had a really fun night and we made 250 soles on registration and 400 soles at the bar. That's 140 quid clean profit para los ninos. We went out the next day and bought teaching materials and a really good blackboard for the El Molino Ludateca, which is a day care centre in one of the gnarliest slum areas of Pisco. On the Saturday night we had a Burning Man party. A large man was constructed from the leftover timber we receive from Aceros Arequipa and we burnt him to the ground at Pisco beach, amongst fire-dancing and fireworks.
On the Sunday evening it was time to deliver on our promises from the Silent Auction which had taken place the previous week. Fintan and Biba had bid and won para los ninos a romantic dinner in Pisco, a rarity due to the absence of nice restaurants and the lack of privacy. We set them up on top of a hostel rooftop, and Rob, a chef at home, put together a four course meal which I think blew the couple away. I played some live music for them in the background, with Jordan adding some light percussion and Sophie delivering one of the most beautiful renditions of Damien Rice's '9 Crimes' I have ever heard. The whole evening was a lot of fun to be a part of and Biba jokingly stated at the morning meeting on Monday that it was the most romantic thing Fintan had ever done.
A group of five of us left PSF together on Monday and headed to Huacachina, a nearby party town. There, we went on a thrill ride in an areneros dune buggy into the local desert and did some sand-boarding under the melting afternoon sun. Several night buses later we arrived in Chivay and Cabanaconde, quiet rural villages where we based ourselves for a spectacular hike into Colca Canyon. Here I felt like I was in real Peru. We stood on cramped buses hanging off the side of a cliff for hours at a time to get there. Donkeys passed us where we walked. Traditional wear was the order of the day and not just worn for the benefit of the gringos. The pace of life was slow and for me very refreshing.
Colca Canyon is the deepest canyon in the world (4,160m) and more than twice as deep as the Grand Canyon in the United States. We walked down into it and stayed at Sangalle at the bottom, which is effectively a little oasis with basic camping and bungalows. We had no electricity so the five of us ate the sopa prepared by the elderly canyon woman and played card games under candle and star light with some hot chocolate and rum and warm alpaca jumpers. The climb back up the next day was challenging to say the least, step after step after step up and up and out of the canyon. I felt like a prisoner to the blazing sun. And our reward at the top? Another seven hour bus journey, mostly standing, back to Arequipa, where we have been recharging our batteries and enjoying again all the conveniences that a city offers.
Despite the exhilaration of the sand-boarding and the amazing views from deep in the Canyon, my thoughts have largely been back in Pisco this week. There are people at PSF that I will really miss and I was blown away by the initiative and leadership of such a varied group of people. The whole vibe around PSF is truly special and I will cherish the time I spent there. But Cusco lies on the horizon, and it both excites and worries me in equal measure. It is a picture of ruins and churches, laden with overwhelming gringo energy, the base for unique treks and stunning views. But it is also going to be expensive. And my pockets are far from deep. There is no such thing as a free lunch. Even in Peru.
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