With friends like these how can a man go wrong? Instead of that little Internet cafe I now have the use of a laptop, graciously lent to me by another volunteer. It has been an interesting and busy time since I last wrote, and I will try to get it all down here as best I can.
The big adventure this time around was horse back riding. Leaving early on a Friday morning myself and 3 others grabbed a taxi to the Plaza, barely awake and as always with these things a Little worried we had been ripped off we awaited our pick up to take us to the 'Ranch'. Leaving the city we wound our was up zig zagging roads taking us above the city and over the neighbouring hilltops. Being dropped off in the middle of a field nestled between the Christo Blanco (Cusco's white version of Christ the Redeemer) and Sacsayhuaman (pronounce in sexy woman, it makes it easier) we were met by a young guy, not much older than 18. Leading us up a small pathway hidden away by bushes and small shop, we eventually reached the so called ranch. The ranch appeared to be a small corale holding the horses and a few small buildings of dried mud bricks and cheap wooden rooves. After a small wait for our animals we 'mounted up', the horses (if such a term could be used) looked haggard and worn through, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the animals, from what we could see they were kept in a small field without much room, and seemed frail and thin, however after getting going we soon discovered they were anything but this. They kept a good pace with myself leading on an ashen Gray beast, with a comfortable saddle and a pleasant demeanour. Leaving the ranch we slowly wound our way up the mountain side, following the path of a small stream that had bored itself a small valley over centuries of patient flowing. Making our way further and further up we saw a more wild side of the area outside the city, places where only the animals walk, terrain, too treacherous for people to walk was swallowed up with ease by the horses, as long as we hung on there was nothing that posed a great challenge. Eventually breaking away from the river we hit a path that seemed to cater to more common traffic. Wide and muddy the animals delicately stepped trying to avoid the deeper mud which seemed like it would swallow us whole if we were to place a foot wrong, eventually passing the Ypres style path we came out to a road, the hard tarmac a relieving feeling after the deceitful mud. Crossing the sleepy road we climbed a small bank, and came across a deep rolling valley, a streak of wetland in the middle faded out to sloping hills in turn giving way to the jagged rocks of the mountainous peaks that bordered the valley like gateway guardians to unwelcome visitors. Making our way down a gentle path on the edge of the wetland we came to our first site El Templo de la luna (The temple of the moon). Supposedly once a great Temple that sat on the summit of a large rock formation. Now though, time has eaten away at it, taking away not only its physical presence but also its soul. While there you get a feeling that once it was place of importance but now is just a forgotten relic of an age long ago distorted by the winds, rains and invaders from far off continents. Leaving the temple we followed the path that we came in by leading us back to the road. Stopping again we dismounted and crossed the road on foot, to visit the second site on our equarian tour. A place ominously named "Zona X" (Zone X), at first viewing it seems to be just a small collection of neolithic walls and stones dug into the wall of a large outcrop of rock. Further investigation though reveals something much deeper, and much stranger. What looked like a rock turned out to be a labyrinthine collection of caves and ravines both dug into the rock and naturally formed. Small details like an old moss covered stairway, and an almost perfectly flat rectangle cut into the wall indicate that people lived here in what could have been part of an old city or perhaps just a village. Caves which ran for dozens of metres connecting two places illuminated by breaks in the rock to reveal fresh air and warming light, were explored at length, with once coming out high above the ground and having to brave a climb down or getting lost in the network of tunnels. The strangeness of this place was only complimented by the loudness of the silence. A shout to find my friends was met with an eerie quietness, a complete lack of echo almost like the Zone was swallowing the sound, keeping it in, like the secrets it has held tight across the centuries. Leaving the strange Zone we re-mounted and moved on. Moving faster now across the more open valleys we crossed open grasslands and dropped down the side of the mountain. Slowing down we came to more wild area with trees and wild flowers. Walking slowly the path narrowed further until we could only walk slowly in single file. As the tree cover began to thin we began to notice that to one side of us was sheer rock going up, and to the other was the same, only in a more downward direction. The slow realisation that our narrow path was the top of cliff was dulled by the incredible vantage point that it offered. Looking down we could see the result of the small local rivers attempt at rapids. The small rapids, pools and waterfalls were obviously an area of interest for the local kids, who even from our high view point we could see were enjoying the cool water in the intense morning heat. Beyond the river we could see the land stretch out for miles woodland dotted the vast space with long meadow grass swaying in the gentle breath of the wind between. At that place, at that time I felt like I had gone back in time, and was some weary traveller slowly crossing a distant land with home far behind me and my destination far in front, it was truly awesome. Coming to end of the path that shot us through time we came to our final destination of the day, La terrza del diablo (The devils balcony). La terrza is a small cave which you climb down into from above, the handholds and footholds worn in from the volumes of people clambering their way down. In side the hole you round a small bend and see why it is a place to visit. An opening in the side of the cliff offers a view of the raging rapids and cliffs a hundred metres high, standing out amongst the bombardment of sights and sounds was the rocks itself. A rainbow of colour in long vertical stripes down the cliff face made it look almost as if the the rock had cried the river below the tears staining the face, forever marking it. Scrambling out of the cave with all the dignity one can have when ones arms and legs are bending in ways you didn't know were possible, let alone healthy. We walked to the bottom of the cliffs, seeing the small hole that is the balcony. From within the balcony seems majestic gifting us with sights and sounds that no where else could, yet below it seems small, unremarkable and just there. It's simplicity from the outside hiding its interior beauty. Up close we saw that the rapids themselves had carved a great cavern into the rock below the balcony, inaccessible from our side, we saw that others had found the back door, and were playing in the calmer pools of the cavern cooling themselves against the suns ferocious fiery assaults. Humbled by how something so beautiful was carved by the persistence of water on rock and not a man with a chisel we took up the ride again and headed for home. The ride home followed roughly the same path we came along, the time travellers path, the open grasslands and the sleepy roads. Taking a turn off the beaten path we crossed onto a new track. Slowly making our way down through the road we passed through sleepy farmsteads, the dogs, llamas and alpacas all taking us in with distrustful curiosity. Hitting the main road we avoided the traffic and turned off onto a closed road, riding past the workmen toiling in heat, passing along pleasant hellos. Leaving the workmen to their labours we hit left the road for rougher terrain, following paths mother nature was aggressively re-claiming for her cause. After another narrow clifftop path giving us unparallelled views of the city from above we came to the path where we first rode out. A slow down hill climb returning us to the ranch. Dismounting I patted the horse, whose name I found out was "Solitario", thanking him and the guide, the four of us left walking and talking in joviality, however I could not help but contemplate what we saw, how the world had changed and created things so beautiful and how we could change what was given to us given the right drive and tools.
Leaving the riding behind we four returned to the homestead of the Elim Orphanage. Where we spent the rest of the day relaxing with the girls. Some of you may have seen the photos I have posted on Facebook, within those pictures are most of the girls, I will try now to tell you a little bit about each of them.
The youngest two, who I have already written of are Zulema and Patricia, aged at 3 and 5 respectively. Zulema is still just a bambina and has bundles of energy, playing with her is a good way to improve ones fitness while at the same time listening to a giggle reminiscent of the famous giggling baby youtube video. Patricia is Zulemas elder sister (or possibly aunt, the history of these two is uncertain at best, we do not even know they're second names) is much the same, energetic, fun and always guaranteed to make you giggle when she starts off.
Moving up in age we come to Gladdis, 9 years old. Often quiet and slow to warm to new people she has an incredible smile matched only by the smile and twinkle in her eyes. She is often found with her terrible twin Vanessa, 10 years old. While not actually sisters, being close in age has grown them close over the time they have spent at Elim. Now when ever they are together, and they have both got their cheeky grins plastered all over their faces, most of the volunteers have learnt to be cautious, if not run and hide in fear of what fiendish plan they have in store for you.
Elder still is Cintia at 11 years old. The elder sister of little Gladdis. The similarities are apparent once you get to know them, both are very reserved and keep themselves to themselves, and neither sister seems to be a fan of the dancing the other girls are so fond of. Getting to know her however proves wonderful know as even though she ma not talk she will happily sit with you and play cards, laughing at your failed attempts at Spanish. Close to Cintia in both age and friendship is Allison, 12 years old, the elder sister of Vanessa, easily noticeable from the same cheeky smile. A fan of mild trouble making when she first meets you, such convincing me she was called Phyliss for the first 2 weeks of my stay.
The third 12 year old we look after is Heidi. The only girl who is without a sibling, she seems much more combative when you first meet her, sometimes avoiding you, not listening or just giving you a stare which makes the depths of your soul chill. Initially quite intimidating to approach, once you manage to break the ice with her (and it is ice) you find a sweet, highly creative girl who knows exactly what she is doing at all times. Perfectly demonstrated by her stares, which you learn she has perfected to a range of despair causing leers. Although doing this mainly for her own entertainment, something she does seem to take endless pleasure in.
The final 12 year old is Soraya, different in appearance the rest of the girls, her and her sister Ruth both have clear Kechwua (I think that is right please feel free correct me) antecedents. This makes both stand out from the rest of the girls. She is the most musical of the girls and very warm and open to the volunteers, especially is mucking about with them gets her off her homework for a few minutes.
The next eldest is Joselin, at 13 years old. Joselin is who I would call the tomboy of the group, always looking like she would be more comfortable kicking a ball around or running around getting muddy in the country than sat inside. She often seems like she would be most comfortable carrying a rifle, camouflaged up and screaming a war shout. Despite these often tomboyish qualities she does have a love of dancing and a keen eye for picking up guitar tunes, creating a strange mix of both boy and girl like qualities. Joslein has her little jokes, such as talking incredibly fast in Spanish to you, creating mass confusion, then when you don;t understand throws her arms up in the air and walks off still talking at high speed.
At 14 years old we have Ruth, Soraya's elder sister, another lover of music and dancing. Ruth is often the one to help co-ordinate the dance routines as well as having her own little dance moves she keeps stored up for special occasions. Quiet and studious she is often up later than the other girls to make sure all her school work is done, and seems to achieve high marks for all her efforts.
The only 15 year old of the group, is not technically an orphan. Lucero is the daughter of Delphina, one of two women who work at the house cooking, making sure the girls do their chores etc etc. Despite not really needing the care of the house Lucero is almost always here, a highly intelligent young woman she starts university in a year, something just as rare in Peru as it is England. She talks excellent English and often acts as a translator for those of us who have trouble with Spanish.
Joselins older sister is Lisbeth at 16. Another of the girls who you instantly get to know she opens up to you faster than a greyhound on speed. Loving and friendly she is another translator of the group speaking excellent English. Often she acts as a sort of guide to the new volunteers telling them about Elim and who the other girls are, she seems to truly love all the affection given to her and reciprocates in loving way, often shown in the form of a practical joke.
Finally we have Blanca, the eldest of the group at 17. Again an English speaker she is also extremely talented at dancing, having perfected most dance routines (including the Thriller dance, well nearly) she also has a beautiful singing voice. And has brought a tear to many a volunteers eye with her goodbye speeches and songs. She has an older sister called Shirley who once lived at Elim and now 19 looks after Nilda, the woman who founded Elim 11 years ago, but now due to ill health has had to pass the reigns onto her son Jeremy. Both of whom seem to be genuinely kind and good people, a rarity.
All 13 of the girls have something individual about them and make our stay here so much more enjoyable, they all genuinely care for one another even if they seem hostile at times. They hold much love in their hearts for what we do with them and are sincere in thought and feeling. Living with these girls and sharing their lives in the small amount of time I have been here is something that words can not really describe, it is an experience like nothing I have had. Sometimes, I almost dream that I too had lived the life the way these girls had, so that I could understand the emotions and lives of these people we sometimes blot out of our minds so completely. To feel what it is that drives them to be better than their upbringing, and to break whatever mould was formed around them by their stories and histories. To see it and to share it, to know how in some ways they are luckier than we are. The nights I think of this I also feel a slight melancholy draw across my mind, a knowledge that soon I will return and continue my life, always knowing that they are all still here struggling with a past they can never forget, but perhaps forge it, shape it, make it into something hopeful, something which can create a life better than what was laid out for them. These are the things that hound me in the night, the thoughts that give me nightmares, but sometimes, when they are brighter, they can make me sleep as soundly as Zulema.
Next: Macchu Picchu & the amazon jungle
