Where in the World?

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Life has been busy. We have been applying for jobs around the world while finding more to do right here at home.

Last weekend was a three day weekend so a dozen of us trekked off to Barinas to go rafting. We arrived Friday evening after a seven hour drive. Our accommodations were a one room cabin for all of us. We swam a little, ate a tremendous dinner, and introduced ourselves to the baby river otter that has taken up residence in the campamento.

Saturday morning it started to rain. This is a good thing for rafting as it brought the water levels up a bit. Unfortunately, it also triggered Z’s asthma. While the others headed off for the river, Carrie and I bustled Zman off to the clinic in the next village. The good news is that we didn’t have to wait at all. The pediatrician was there and saw us right away. He whisked us to the Emergency room, hooked the little guy up with some oxygen and Albuterol and let us sit for three hours. We ended up missing the first day’s rafting and lunch, but Zachary felt much better and could actually get oxygen into his lungs.

The next day found us at the top of a gorge where we embarked on the Class Four portion of the trip. Magnificent views, beautiful water, and several jumps off a tall bridge; this was how we spent Sunday. None of us wanted to go home. After a fantastic BBQ lunch we loaded the cars and headed out. The trip back took a little less time, but we still arrived in Valencia after dark.

We have been losing power every day for the last month. Hugo is trying to get everyone to conserve and use less. One way he encourages this is by cutting off the power every night. Sometimes it’s for an hour and sometimes more. Monday night we lost power about 8:00 and hadn’t regained it by the time we left for school the next day at 7. It’s a little annoying and really hard to get used to. It makes me work that much harder for a new place to go.

We have applied to schools around the world. Some have told us no, some have ignored us completely, and a few have given us good responses. I am hoping for a library position, but am a little discouraged as most places want someone with experience in the position, of which I have none. We keep plugging away, though. We have gotten nice responses from India, Bahrain, Tunisia, and Tanzania so we’ll see how it works out. We probably won’t know for sure until February when we go to Boston for the job fair.

In the meantime we have purchased tickets for Ecuador in December. We are excited to see a new place. We are also excited to get out of Venezuela for awhile. Everything is crumbling here; the latest shortages come in the form of coffee and sugar.

My classes are going well. They are a welcome diversion. It is somewhat difficult to get lessons in on time when the power shuts off at random intervals, but I am managing.

I am a little homesick. I am tired of this nomadic lifestyle and I am tired of doing without my stuff. I miss my things and I want to have them in my hands once more. Of course, I know that should I go home tomorrow, I would have itchy feet next week, but that is little solace. I want to go home.

MJR

Be Careful of the Ice

Sunday, November 01, 2009

It has been awhile since I have checked in. This is not because there has been little happening here, but more because there has been a lot.

In September, Zachary learned how to ride his bike without training wheels! He insisted I remove them Then we went to Campo Carabobo where he practiced. We tied a sarong around his waist so as to be able to hold him and let go without him knowing. He did great. By the time we were through, both Carrie and I were pretty well spent. It was a fun day.

In October we took a trip to a town called San Cristóbal. It was a really long drive for not a whole lot. We did get to drive into Colombia which was pretty cool. Until we got back to Venezuela and were stopped for the umpteenth time by the police.

On our way there, we encountered so many alcabalas (police check points). I swear there was one every two miles. At one, the cop asked for all the paper work. When he was all finished, he asked us if we wanted to buy ice. I had to ask him twice what he said and then I had to verify it with Carrie…he asked if we wanted any ice. We said no and drove on. On the way home, at the same spot, the cops asked us the same thing. We both looked around to see what was there: a truck, a table, and a canopy. We said no and moved on. Later, we confirmed that the police were trying to sell us drugs so that they could stop us again and hassle us for having them.

Our power has gone out at least fifty times since we’ve gotten back. For awhile, we could count on not having power for a significant portion of each day. Lately, this has ebbed and we are grateful for that. We are told the problem will get worse before it gets better. The infrastructure is crumbling and nothing is being done to fix it.

Two weeks ago, the mother of one of my students told me that when her husband returned home late at night, he was jumped in the basement and forced at gunpoint to open his apartment. The thieves tied the two of them up, allowing the girls to sleep and then ransacked the apartment. Eventually they moved on to the other units on their floor. When all had been burglarized, the thieves left.

Last week, several prominent families in the school had a similar experience, except the entire building was hit. One of our eighth graders spent four hours with a gun to the back of her head while the thieves threatened kidnapping. It is a scary time in a scary place. We are anxious to leave and find somewhere safer.

We have been applying to schools online. We have received some good responses and are excited about the prospects. It is always fun to look at information and picture yourself in that new spot. At this point, every country looks better than Venezuela.

I have just finished my class on evaluating children’s literature and am fully immersed in my library classes. I have also been trying to implement some of the new ideas I have learned about. It makes for a busy guy, but it is fulfilling. Carrie is gearing up to start tryouts for The Wizard of Oz. This has her losing sleep already… We are busy counting days, wondering where Christmas will find us this year. We have already booked our trip to Boston for the job fair, but beyond that we know nothing about the future. It’s sort of a fun place to be.

MJR

Lake Titicaca

Sunday, September 20, 2009
June 16-23

Lake Titicaca was amazing. The town of Puno sits right on the banks. As we gazed over the lake we couldn’t help but wonder if we were actually looking out over the ocean. Barely visible in the distance were the Bolivian Andes. The snow capped peaks were not much higher than we were as the lake is at almost 13,000 feet.

The hotel was cold with no hot water. The town was beautiful with a lovely park and a great produce market. We wandered around there shopping for items to give to our “families”. We even got to ride in one of the little motorcycle taxis! We dined at a nice restaurant and were treated to fantastic music and dancing by a local troupe. We bought a CD, but it’s not quite the same.

The next day we embarked upon our lake voyage. Our first stop was the floating islands. These man-made reed piles are anchored to the bottom so as not to drift, but are comprised of reeds stacked upon themselves. The original settlers built them to avoid the Spanish. Now they exist mostly as a tourist draw. We were shown how the islands are made and then invited to purchase some of their textiles. We even got to ride one of their straw boats!

Next stop was over an hour away. It was a much bigger island with several thousand inhabitants. This is where we were to stay for the night. We were introduced to our host, Ambrosio, who led us up the hill to his house. It was quite challenging to walk there as the altitude makes it hard to breathe. Ambrosio’s house was rather large so each family got their own room. C, Z, and I shared a space the size of a small hotel room on the top floor of the domicile. For meals, we gathered around the kitchen table and were fed potatoes, quinoa, and rice. There was Coca tea to drink. Mom sat on the hearth while dad sat with us at the table. There was way more food than we could possibly eat so we asked them to cut the portion sizes for the next meal.

We hiked to the top of the hill wearing the hats that Ambrosio’s daughter had made. When evening came, we were dressed in traditional clothing and taken to a dance. We danced until Zman fell asleep and then we went home to crash. It was an exhausting day; moving around at 13,000 feet really takes a lot out of you.

We climbed aboard our boat again the next morning to go to another island. Here we climbed to a village, ate lunch, explored the artisan market, and checked out an ancient religious site that had been converted to Christianity. Afterwards we hiked back down to the harbor, climbed on the boat and headed back to Puno.

We knew something was off when the boat sputtered to a stop and the pilot started yelling to a fellow on the beach. About an hour into the two hour ride, the boat stopped for good. Our young captain tried in vain to fix the problem while our tour guide provided no details whatsoever. The folks in the back tried to flag down others to come to our aid, as we had no radio. Every boat that slowed, sped up again and raced off without helping. We drifted for about thirty minutes before another boat pulled up along side. The captain of that vessel came aboard with tools and fixed us up. We blazed off to Puno and happily set foot on land.

Peru is an amazing place. There is so much beauty and the people are wonderful. Life is fairly peaceful, the food is fantastic, and the pace is easy. We would travel there again in a heartbeat.

MJR

The Tears of a Child

Sunday, September 13, 2009

I am going to forgo the narrative of our trip to Peru for now. It has been a challenging week.

I have been having some difficulty with several of my students since the beginning of the year. Although school policy is that students will speak English at all times, I have been challenged to make this a reality in my classroom. There are four boys in particular who seem to be immune to the rules. They are very bright, but mischief makers (much like myself at the same age).

I have been working on ways to encourage them to do the right thing. Wednesday night I didn’t sleep very well for thinking of incentives for them. I was tired on Thursday morning when I went to work, but thought I had come across some ways to make it all work. When we got to work, I was greeted with the news that the father of one of my students died in a motorcycle crash the night before. He was forty-one.

Suddenly everything on my mind became infinitesimally small. The student (I’ll call her Julie) is a beautiful little girl; extremely bright, always cheerful, and eager to please. I had her sister in my class two years ago. The mom was my room mother and we have always had a good relationship. I knew dad by his first name. I had, in fact, had a few drinks with him on occasion.

Thursday took on a whole new twist. I had to figure out how to work with my kids to come to an understanding of these events. I was struggling with this puzzle when Julie showed up for class. She was in tears as were many of my students. Suddenly I had to confront even more issues. We cried together for about an hour, then I read a story. We played some games, sang some songs, and watched a movie (complete with popcorn!). Julie kept her composure for the most part, which is more than I can say for myself.

I made it through the day and ventured off to the Wake. Friday Julie was back with a smile and I attempted some normality. Now I am left with an eight year old who has lost her father. As the year progresses, I am sure there will be a great deal of tears. As a general rule, I don’t deal well with tears; mine or anyone else’s. I guess this will be a lesson for both of us.

I can’t help but feel parallels to past events in my life. Today I am on the other end of lost parents, wondering how to comfort a small girl when I find it so difficult to find comfort in myself.

MJR

Lazy Hot Spring Day

Sunday August 23, 2009
June 15

Today we hung out in Aguas Calientes. We visited the hot springs, shopped, and ate a leisurely lunch. It is a beautiful little town albeit very touristy. There are plenty of young, hip Europeans leaning against lampposts, smoking cigarettes and eyeing others with disdain.

The springs are beautiful. One follows the river out of town, crosses over to the other side, and enters the facility. The pools are cement and look like swimming pools. There are four or five of them ranging in temperature from warm to sort of hot. They are clean and the river runs close by. In fact there are cool showers one can take with the river water. We lazed away the morning there, pruning our fingers and soaking up the sun.
We stopped by a jewelry store on the way back down the hill. We each bought something to take home with us. Further on we encountered a small restaurant with awesome food. We had to sort of rush through lunch as we had a train to catch.

We boarded the train after noon and commenced our three hour journey back to Cusco. We had been hearing rumblings of civil unrest throughout the country and we tried hard to gather information.

It seems that the government was interested in digging for oil in the Amazon up north. The natives there didn’t care for the idea and killed about thirty police officers before the government got the message. Trees were felled and large rocks placed across the road to inhibit the passage of vehicles.

Folks in the south felt a kinship with their northern brothers so they did the same thing (without killing anyone). Currently, the road between Cusco and Puno was closed with no word about when it would reopen. This threw a serious wrench in our plans as we were scheduled to take a ten hour bus ride to Puno in two days time. As of today, no buses were running.

Distressing as this sounded, we still had a day of rafting ahead of us tomorrow so we turned our focus to that. We enjoyed our night out in Cusco, then turned in for an early evening. Our bus leaves at six in the morning and we would like to be wide awake for the next adventure.

MJR

Pinch Me!

Sunday, August 16, 2009
June 14

Morning came early. We arose at five-ish to discover that most of the other folks in town had already left. We climbed on a bus and headed up to the top of the hill. Once there, we had to wait in line to show our passports and get our bags inspected. The park only allows small day packs inside, but there is no template for this. Jim Bob was told he could not bring his in even though it was no bigger than anyone else’s.

Upon entering the gate we made our way about a half a mile across the park to another gate. There we awaited tickets that would allow us to climb to the top of Huaynu Picchu. The second trip, at ten, was full so we waited for the first one. This trip was supposed to be allowed to leave anytime, but since they stagger the people climbing, we had to wait almost an hour for our turn. During this time, Carrie discovered that she still had Zachary’s passport and ticket and Nancy realized that Jim Bob had hers! We hoped this wouldn’t be a problem.

Mere minutes before entering the gate, Jim Bob showed up with Zman. The little guy was almost in tears. He had to go to the bathroom which was outside the front gate. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t let him leave or re-enter without a passport and ticket. We quickly traded paperwork and urged them on their way, hoping they could make it the half mile without an accident.

The hike itself was extremely steep. Fortunately, the Incas had placed steps along the way and the Peruvian Government had installed cables to grasp. It was slow going up. From the top were the most spectacular views of the main ruins and the hills surrounding them. It was crowded at the top and difficult to find a place to stand, but the vistas were stunning. We stayed for a while and then headed back down to find JB and Z.

Upon reaching the bottom, we caught up with the others and began our exploration of this magnificent place. Our small group of five had reservations to stay in Aguas Calientes one more night, giving us the entire day to spend investigating. Others from the group were compelled to leave at one. We roamed around until four or so and then bussed it back down to the bottom.

The village took about seventy years to build, but was only occupied for about thirty-five years. The most fascinating part about the whole story to me is the idea that no one really knows what happened there. Why was it built? Who lived there? Did others come to worship? Why was it abandoned? Any answers we got to these questions were merely speculation. As we asked different guides we got different answers.

We all wandered off in separate directions, exploring these ancient spaces at our own pace. We startled chinchillas, encountered dead ends, and laid tranquilly in the grass. At long last we made our way to the front gate where we met our friends and boarded a bus for the journey to town. We were all moved by what we had seen and rode the forty minutes in silence, contemplating this wondrous place.

I first saw a picture of Machu Picchu hanging on Mr. Cantrell’s wall. He was my high school Guidance Counselor. The picture was a poster; it was a place that he had never been. It captured my imagination. For twenty-five years, I kept it in my head that I wanted to see that place, to experience it first hand, and now I had. I was not disappointed. It was worth the wait. No amount of words can describe the feeling I held as we descended that mountain. I shall cherish that memory always.

MJR

WOW

Monday, August 10, 2009
June 13

We awoke bright and early to catch the train. We opted for the Vista Dome, even though it was more expensive. It was an awesome train ride. Seats were arranged in groups of four with a table in between. This was especially helpful when they served breakfast, but also aided us in playing games during the three hour ride.

We passed through lush countryside, farm land, and sheer cliffs before we arrived at our destination. This turned out to be a dirt patch next to the tracks. The five of us alone clambered off the train, stepped away from the tracks, and watched the train roll on. A fellow appeared out of nowhere and led us across a bridge to a shady spot to wait for the rest of our group. We sat next to the river and drank in the tranquility.

When, at last, the others arrived, we were ready to go. Our guide, Silverio, gave us Coca leaves and demonstrated how to offer them as sacrifices to the Gods to give us safe passage. He gave us more to chew. The flavor is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, although it does make your tongue numb! We embarked on our journey up the hillside.

There were plenty of switchbacks leading us up through lush forest, climbing ever higher until our breath ran short. We stopped often for air and water and to drink in the beauty of the scene laid out before us; trees, mountains, and a river way down at the bottom of the valley.

We arrived at our lunch spot just before noon. Silverio led us to some ruins nearby and talked about the different architectural features. To a great degree, these speeches lose me. I am just in awe that people without beasts of burden and steel tools could manipulate these rocks into the forms they now exist in. They have stood for centuries like silent sentries among the trees.

Lunch was lekker! It was prepared by a couple of fellows who had lugged it all up on their backs. In fact, everything at the lunch site had to be hauled up by hand. This included beer coolers, stoves, ovens, cement, and all the fixtures. There were plenty of people around as this was the last stop for those who had chosen to take the four day hike over the thirteen thousand foot pass (called Dead Woman Pass!). There was even a canteen where one could buy chocolate and cigarettes or rent a towel for the hot showers.

Once we had eaten our fill, we pressed on. This time the trail was fairly level, following the side of the mountain. The trail was actually a highway of sorts, being built by the Incas to get around. Rocks had been set into the dirt to solidify the path. There was a sheer rock wall up to the left and a near vertical drop through undergrowth to the right. Zachary was happily oblivious and kept trotting up and down and back and forth, much to our chagrin.

We walked for nearly six hours that day. One part of the hike included “The Gringo Killer”. This was a set of fifty some odd stairs set into the mountain that we had to climb in order to proceed. These things were made all the more daunting by the fact that we were well above 9,000 feet when we did them. Finally, we arrived at the Sun Gate, overlooking Machu Picchu. It was glorious! We snapped off pictures, drank our water, and cracked jokes. We descended into the high valley where the village is located around five in the evening; just in time to catch the last bus into town.

There are no cars allowed at the top. One must hike in or take a bus. The road in is one switchback after another. We were all tired, but very happy with the day’s work. I dozed on the bus, content in the knowledge that I had made it to this wondrous place.

We stayed that night in Aguas Calientes; a small town built mainly for the purpose of accommodating tourists. It was clean and well kept and very quaint. There were plenty of pizza parlors and artisan shops, but we left those for later. We opted, instead, to eat dinner and sleep early. We had all agreed to wake up around five to catch the first bus to the top. This was arranged to allow us to get tickets to hike to the peak of Huaynu Picchu, the hill directly behind Machu Picchu. Limited numbers of people are permitted to climb this hill each day and we wanted to be among them.

MJR