Welp I know I´m backpacking again because I´m using citronela bug spray as ¨perfume,¨ guarding plastic silverware and napkins like it´s the depression, and finding myself sleeping on 15 hour buses and sunken-in beds. And it feels great!
Before I knew it, the clowning trip (and more than a month in Peru) have passed! This year I found Iquitos/Belen easier. I was familiar with the town, knew some people, and spoke a lot more Spanish. But I found that with this smoothness came a tendency to fall into unconsciousness. Traveling can be such a gift (and a point of exhaustion) because in the unfamiliar you are always having to be present in the moment and on your toes. This year, admist the poverty and the miserable conditions of some of the places we visited to clown, I found myself both more complacent (for which I felt ashamed) and also more able to connect with the people.
On the plus side, I found myself more able to keep up with the South Americans, specifically the Argentinians :), who are always having more fun than everyone else it seems. They are somehow able to stay out drinking and dancing until 4am (or later) and then be up in the morning to clown and paint and hold the attention of children. With my Peruvian, Columbian, and Argentine coaches, I was able to stay up most nights (but without drinking), however I always turned in while the South Americans sat smoking or sharing a bottle of beer, laughing and laughing... One of my friends advised me, ¨You just have to keep fighting¨...I´m not sure for what, but I´m trying to learn the ways.
On the other side of the coin, speaking about trying to remain strong and present in the moment: being with the kids in Belen can be very hard. Some are so clearly neglected: with filthy little bodies in tattered clothes, skin rashes and lice. It was obvious that one little boy I was with one afternoon at the workshops was simply not being cared for. He was 5 years old and looked like he was maybe 3. Who were his parents I wondered to myself angrily...and then had to release judgement and remind myself to just be with the boy in that moment and give him love. I didn´t know what more I could do. I can´t remember feeling so heartbroken as when I think of that little boy.
And so the challenge continues...trying to remain present. After an overnight bus ride, I am in Arequipa now. I tryed to push myself and pack in the town today (which is normally not my style), so I visited the Santa Catalina Monastery, which housed hundreds of nuns for almost 400 years within a stone walled city before being opened to the public in 1970. It is literally a city within a city, with streets, a mill, co-op stone ¨laundry¨ and baths, etc. Very cool. Tomorrow I will further explore the colonial white city, construted from white volcanic rock. This will include a visit to see Juanita, a 14 year old girl sacraficed and mummified by the Incas on a nearby volcano, and discovered 15 years ago after being frozen for hundreds of years.
Before I knew it, the clowning trip (and more than a month in Peru) have passed! This year I found Iquitos/Belen easier. I was familiar with the town, knew some people, and spoke a lot more Spanish. But I found that with this smoothness came a tendency to fall into unconsciousness. Traveling can be such a gift (and a point of exhaustion) because in the unfamiliar you are always having to be present in the moment and on your toes. This year, admist the poverty and the miserable conditions of some of the places we visited to clown, I found myself both more complacent (for which I felt ashamed) and also more able to connect with the people.
On the plus side, I found myself more able to keep up with the South Americans, specifically the Argentinians :), who are always having more fun than everyone else it seems. They are somehow able to stay out drinking and dancing until 4am (or later) and then be up in the morning to clown and paint and hold the attention of children. With my Peruvian, Columbian, and Argentine coaches, I was able to stay up most nights (but without drinking), however I always turned in while the South Americans sat smoking or sharing a bottle of beer, laughing and laughing... One of my friends advised me, ¨You just have to keep fighting¨...I´m not sure for what, but I´m trying to learn the ways.
On the other side of the coin, speaking about trying to remain strong and present in the moment: being with the kids in Belen can be very hard. Some are so clearly neglected: with filthy little bodies in tattered clothes, skin rashes and lice. It was obvious that one little boy I was with one afternoon at the workshops was simply not being cared for. He was 5 years old and looked like he was maybe 3. Who were his parents I wondered to myself angrily...and then had to release judgement and remind myself to just be with the boy in that moment and give him love. I didn´t know what more I could do. I can´t remember feeling so heartbroken as when I think of that little boy.
And so the challenge continues...trying to remain present. After an overnight bus ride, I am in Arequipa now. I tryed to push myself and pack in the town today (which is normally not my style), so I visited the Santa Catalina Monastery, which housed hundreds of nuns for almost 400 years within a stone walled city before being opened to the public in 1970. It is literally a city within a city, with streets, a mill, co-op stone ¨laundry¨ and baths, etc. Very cool. Tomorrow I will further explore the colonial white city, construted from white volcanic rock. This will include a visit to see Juanita, a 14 year old girl sacraficed and mummified by the Incas on a nearby volcano, and discovered 15 years ago after being frozen for hundreds of years.
This is what I´m talking about... a lovely Limeñan model with the classic Pilsner
Great T-shirt: If you love me, don´t yell at me, don´t insult me, don´t ignore me, don´t hit me, don´t violate me, don´t kill me... Love me!
