Peru – The Diary Notes – Getting There

The story below is taken directly from my daily journal with a few modifications to clarify anything that may not immediately be clear.

Monday 10th July (Argentina – Buenos Aires)
It is 5.30am and we are still traveling. Arriving at the Liniers terminal in Buenos Aires early, we waited 1.5hrs for our pickup to the Ituzaingo YWAM base. A shower, some emails, lunch and time with friends and we are soon back in our bus on the way to the airport.

Waiting at the airport
Waiting at the airport

Now we are in the airport – early, waiting for Lloyds of Bolivia to open their counters. Oops. We were watching the wrong counters. They were already open but their computers were down. This meant that we were all scattered over the plane with nobody together. I could not change the date on my ticket either, with my return still set for the 26th July instead of the 5th September.

Customs and security completed, I am still with my scissors, but our plane is delayed and we don’t depart until 4.30pm. Now we are on our way in an old Boeing 727-200.

(Bolivia – Santa Cruz)
It’s a shambles. Nobody knows where we are going or what we are doing. We thought we were in transit but suddenly everyone has to enter into the country though customs. Bewildered we fill out the paperwork, then pass through.

Mari, one of our team, is detained. Bolivia requires that people from her country obtain a visa to enter. She does not have one as none of this was expected. We are distraught, but after consultation it is agreed that she will be escorted to the plane just before departure. We leave, still wary, but unable to change or do anything about it.

Now we are officially in the country. I try to adjust my ticket dates again. They confirm that the dates are fine in the computer, but a dispute remains as to who pays for the changes. It as the agency’s error, but in this part of the world that may mean nothing.

Next, we are told to line up at the check-in counters again, but nobody is attending us. Jorge finally finds a person working there on other things who tells us that we can go straight through to the gate as we already have our boarding passes for the next flight. It is a national gate.

Crowds in Santa Cruz
Crowds of people waiting to go through security checks.

Arriving at the gate we encounter a mess. It is like a herd of cattle all trying to fit through one tiny gate at the end, and indeed between 100 to 150 people (a rough guess) are all pushing in a group towards a tiny door (I find out on my return to Argentina that "Miss Bolivia" had just arrived moments before us and this was the contingent that had been traveling with her). We join them and move slowly toward our goal. Thirty to forty minutes of waiting sees us finally inside and waiting at our gate.

There is no Mari. While we wait, we send out a search party to find our missing group member, but with no luck. A second attempt encourages a guard to console us and he tells us that she will be escorted directly to the plane at the point of departure. After further questions we also discover that we have been waiting at the wrong gate, but our plane has been delayed again.

Finally we are on the plane. An announcement while at the gate scared us all. They told us that our existing seat allocations were null and void. Suddenly everyone was up and pushing into an anxious line, as many of us were now concerned that there could well be insufficient seats. With this airline very close to the point of closing down, anything was possible. We all made it aboard however, and there were plenty of left-over seats. To our relief we also see that Mari has also boarded this plane.

(Bolivia – La Paz)
After a short 45 minute flight we stop in Cochabamba at 10.15pm. This time we were able to stay onboard. After another short flight we are in La Paz, flying low over the mountainous edges of the Altiplano. Once landed, I get to exit the airplane by the rear tail-steps which brought back memories of my childhood flying days in Australia.

Our old Boeing 727-200
The old Boeing 727 allowed us to leave by the tail steps.

Once out, we all gather together in the terminal as a group and prepare to go through customs to leave the country. Mari still does not have her passport however, as it was taken from her and given to a flight attendant on the plane. She does not know who has it either, so I go with her to help sort all of this mess out. She is understandably quite concerned and worried about it all.

After finding an official person from the plane, we then seek another, until finding the man with her passport. He tells us to follow him through the checks into the common areas of the airport. Mari was even more stressed about doing this, but I reassured her as best as I could. Soon we were before another official who then took charge of the situation. She led us to customs and immigration and arranged with the officer there to allow Mari to pass through without a problem, after standing with everyone else in the line.

Once through, she was safe once again, and visibly relieved, although quite exhausted from the experience on top of all of the traveling. This was not the end of our dilemmas however. Katie, another of our team, considered her boarding pass old and used it to wrap up her chewing gum and throw it away. When she discovered that this was the very piece of paper that she needed to board the next plane, there was more rushing around between officials until somebody could replace her boarding pass for her. Soon enough however, she was passing through the security checks.

After safely making it through two previous security checks, my scissors were finally discovered and removed from me here in La Paz. Katie too, discovered that she had scissors in her hand luggage. Finally, at 12.30am in Bolivia (1.30am in Argentina), we are on our way again.

Flyng over La Paz
Flying over La Paz city in Bolivia.

Tuesday 11th July (Peru – Lima)
After a 1.5 hour flight we arrive in Lima very late, at almost 3.00am Peru time. I sleep most of the way, exhausted. Surprisingly, when we get there the pastor that was going to pick us up is still waiting. We pour out of the main doors of the airport as a group, pushing two loaded trolleys filled with our luggage. As we leave the lobby, we pass through lines of taxi drivers, all looking for customers.

The airport here has a very modern feel, recently built by a German company and complete with electronic eye bathrooms where everything is automated without touching a thing.

Two cars carry us all back, six in each car with four in the back as is common here. We pass through an area that looks like Las Vegas with all of the lights and casinos lining the street. Nobody feels like talking, but as I am in the front seat, I try. It was hard work trying to clear my brain of enough of the tiredness to think conversationally.

Traveling late at night
Late at night, everything seems like a blur.

Finally we reach our destination. A large house that is also used as a mission base for a church. I quickly find my bed down in the basement and within minutes am in and asleep. Exhausted. It is something like 6.30am in Argentina. 4.30am here.

The journey is over, I have finally reached Peru.

Peru – Surprised at No Surprise

Upon returning to Argentina after two months in Australia and only days later heading up into the north of Peru for two months, I was expecting some sort of adjustment period to the culture and the way that life runs in this new country that I had never visited. Instead, I felt completely comfortable and everything appeared to be normal to me. This was my surprise.

The lack of surprise at life in this culture is something that I attribute in part to my two years of living in the north of Argentina which has a remote similarity to this part of Peru. Also my recent travels through Bolivia revealed places very similar to here in Peru which may have also helped even though I had never lived in these places but only seen them in passing.

So after almost two months of being here and with virtually nothing that has caused me to be surprised, I would like to share a little about the life that now seems to be so very normal for me. As we have lived both in the city and the country, they needed to be treated apart, since each lifestyle is quite distinct.
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Argentina Take 2 – New Directions, New Places

Well, I am back in Argentina once again and boy it feels like I have returned home. Even though being in Australia and New Zealand was great, I still felt like a fish out of water while there. Here I don’t.

So now that I am back here, things have changed around a fair bit. Back in March of this year, I left my base of almost two years in Corrientes. There was no fixed destination at the time, other than to travel through Bolivia to help out various missions where they needed help.

After two months in Australia and New Zealand, I have returned to Argentina in what seems in many ways like “take 2” of my time here. This time I am based in the southern part of Argentina known as the Patagonia. Still with “Youth with a Mission,” I am now working with the branch located in Puerto (Port) Madryn. The first activity will be helping to lead a team of students in Peru for two months, starting tomorrow.

For the first part of my time in Argentina I was heavilly involved in working with computers and other electronic gadgets. This time, during “take 2,” I will be working a lot more with people. Where this leads, and what happens in all of this is yet to be seen. The only thing that I know for sure is that every step is an adventure. And this one is no different.

So bring it on. Let the adventures begin.

Peru – Getting There

How I love to write stories that involve the reader in the emotions and events that pass by. This time there is too much to tell, and too little time to tell it. So here is a quick run down of our journey to Peru.

Bus to BA
It was four days of journeying. First an 18 hour bus ride from Puerto Madryn to Buenos Aires. A quick stop for lunch and we were at the airport waiting for our flight. Flying with Lloyd airlines of Bolivia, which is still in financial problems, we experienced a little of their problems ourselves.
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Peru – Almost Robbed

Well, after two years in South America, a land riddled with stories of people being robbed and attacked and various other fear inducing things, I guess it was likely to happen to me at some point.

The Situation
It was Saturday night, walking with two of the girls in my team to the local church, when we crossed through a park on a path that we had often taken during the last week. This time there was a man in his late twenties following us.

I had noticed him earlier, but was not too concerned because he had not been following for too long. He was also whistling which put me further at ease, thinking that a thief would want to be less conspicuous. I was wrong.
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Peru – A Simple Life

Right now we are in a small town outside of the main city of Chiclayo. Times here are tough, and there is very little work for anybody. Most people are living on the poverty line or below. A walk through the streets reveal people with crippled hands or legs hobbling from one place to another, motorbike taxis lined up along the sides just waiting for somebody to pay the measly fare of one solis (30 cents USD), and vendors that all sell the same thing vying for your attention on the chance that you may buy something from them. In this land of hard times, every cent counts.
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Hanging Out With Friends in Buenos Aires

Taking Advantage of the City
The first thing I did after arriving in Buenos Aires was enjoy a good amount of time on their super-fast Internet. There is something about big cities that seems to allow the Internet to be really fast, and after using Internet in the towns for a while, it seems like a big luxury to be able to watch the pages fly up almost as fast as I click.

Of course, the other great thing about a big city is the variety of things that can be found in them. So I also have taken advantage of the shopping here, finally finding some music that I had been looking all over for, and picking up some other bits and pieces that had been needed but not urgent.

So with the “city stuff” done, it was time to head over and catch up with my friends. Most of them hang out on the YWAM base in Ituzaingo, so that was my first port of call and I stayed here a number of days.

Catching Up with Friends
It was great to enjoy an “asado” (BBQ) on Monday with Ramon and Myrta with so much steak and meat that we could not finish eating it all, even though we tried. Monday was a public holiday all over Argentina. It seems that Labour Day/Day of the Worker is celebrated in a great part of the world, with Australia, Argentina, China, and other places all taking the day of May 4th as a national holiday.

On Tuesday I made the opportunity of catching up with Hyrullo and Nilufa who had recently returned from a trip to their home country of Uzbekistan where they were able to catch up with family and friends. We enjoyed a large lunch and lots of conversation during the course of the afternoon.

Finally, Sergio, my good friend who had helped me with all of the paperwork for my bike, and in whose name the bike is currently registered, came over to visit me at the base. He and his family are only down in Buenos Aires for a short time, after which they are heading off to Africa.

During our time together, it did not really dawn on me that this was the last time that I would see Sergio until I visited him in Africa, until right near the end. It was a very hard and sad goodbye, to farewell such a dear friend for what was effectively the last time I may ever see him.

It has been great to see many of my good friends during this time.

YWAM Tarija – An Early Childhood Centre

Here I am in Tarija, staying at the YWAM base here. This base is not like many of the bases of YWAM in that it does not run courses or training. What it does however is something very important for the community. Run by one woman who is occasionally assisted by temporary helpers, this base provides a free educational service for poor families in the neighborhoods.

teaching in a group
Stephanie teaches the days of the week through a dance.

on the blackboard
Young girl working on the blackboard with chalk.

Many of the children that come to this centre have terrible stories about their family life. Others have lived in poverty and never been given the opportunity to experience the learning opportunities of the rich. Most families do not have electricity in their houses, few have water, and some eat from the garbage dump to survive. These are families in massive risk. A great number of them are “mistresses,” women on their own with one or more children to try and keep alive.

The goal of this centre is to provide these children with both the educational and relational experiences they need to be able to succeed in life. And it is doing a remarkable job too.

Mercedes working with the children
Mercedes works with the children both together and individually.

Stephanie working with a girl
Working one-on-one with the children.

Here are some photos of the children as they work away in the centre, learning and discovering things that they had never had the opportunity to do before. If you would like to help them out, then I am certain that Mercedes would be very pleased to have you along. Obviously, being in a Spanish country means that being able to speak Spanish would be an advantage, but is not essential. Contact me and I will pass on your request (translated if in English). I have had a lot of fun working with the children during my time here and I am sure you will find your time here rewarding.

young girl cannot speak
An older child that still cannot speak more than a few words.

Girl playing with plasticine
Young girl building hand skills in plasticine.

alphabet puzzle
A young boy works on getting his alphabet letters in the right place.

girl painting
A young girl working at the painting table.

Two Days in Sucre

Upon arriving in Sucre, I called my friend Sonia and was taken to the home of some YWAMers nearby. This was my reason for being here – to work in this home and help the King’s Kids branch of YWAM develop their own web site.

City of Sucre
Looking down on the city of Sucre from its highest point.

This family was different to most Bolivian families. Their mother was Austrian and the kids had faces that looked like gringos (foreigners). Their father was Bolivian and they had lived in Bolivia most of their lives, so they were truly Bolivian, with the combined hospitality of both the Austrians and the Bolivians.

Rather than resting after such arduous travel, I decided to press on with the work as Sonia was leaving in the afternoon and we needed her assistance in some of the things that we were doing. We achieved a lot in that day.

Sonia left in the late afternoon, at which point I was given a motorcycle tour around the town and then dropped off down near the university. From here I wandered back down the streets, stopping at various places until I made my way to the central plaza.

Central plaza
The central plaza by night.

In the central plaza a young boy around 10 years old asked if he could clean my shoes. We got chatting and he told me about how his dad worked in another part of the country and sent him here to go to school, and how his mum was not around so he had to work for the money to feed and clothe himself.

Not once did this boy put on the begging face that I had seen in so many others, but he persisted in asking for food, so I took him to a nearby eatery and purchased him a meal. The waitress serving at the time already knew him, and warned me that he would go out onto the streets with the food and sell it again rather than eating it. This was a ploy that I had not yet been aware of. She told me that she would make sure he stayed there and ate the food for himself.

begging boy
The young lad that asked me for food in the plaza.

The next day was another day of work, with a lot of work on the web site and also training up the guy that was going to do much of the work on it.

Just before lunch I ran down to the bus terminal, only several blocks away to purchase a ticket, and was dumbfounded at how unfit I was in not even being able to run a couple of blocks without gasping for air. It was only as I was struggling along on the return leg that I realised that we were in a city at a very high altitude, which was probably causing these symptoms.

That evening I left the family, thanking them for their hospitality and boarding my overnight bus to Santa Cruz. My time in Sucre had been extremely short, leaving me with a desire to return one day and discover more of this interesting little town.

Now I was looking onward to the large city of Santa Cruz.

I’m Going – By Bike

Many have called me crazy. Many have called me brave. Others just shake their heads when they contemplate the 827km journey that I am about to embark upon on my Siambretta motorbike.

They say that it cannot be done. I say that it is only because few choose to do it. They say that there is rain along the way. I say that it will make the journey less hot, and reduce the dust and traffic. They say that I need more time. I say that the two days I am allowing is much more than I could possibly need. They ask if the bike will make it. I tell them to watch me and see.

My motorbike has caused me a lot of anguish over the last few weeks since I bought it, and has been in the repair shops almost as much as with me. This afternoon I finally replaced the rear shock absorber and the leaky fuel tank. Now all is done. Well mostly.

There is no time like the present, so they tell me, and there has to be a moment to go. So tomorrow morning at 8am I climb aboard my bike, point it in the direction of Salta (north-western corner of Argentina) and go.

It will be sad to leave so many amazing people and some very awesome friends in the YWAM base in Corrientes, but I know that it is time to move on, and so I go. First to Salta, then to Bolivia, and onward I continue the journey.

Although the bus would be easier. It would be faster. It would be more comfortable. It would be cheaper….

…it would not be the adventure. It would not be the challenge. It would not be with such expectation. It would not be the fun.

So after all of the fights, and despite the sensibility of going by bus, there is only one way to arrive in Salta.

I am going by bike.