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La Huamanga Turistica
For those of you that caught my previous posting, today I’m going to walk along the sunny side of the street. Our days typically revolve around scheduling interviews with volunteers and their beneficiaries, and the rest of the time is ours. My priority, after finishing our interviews, is always to download the flash cards to my Epson P5000 Viewer then to my laptop, process my images using Lightroom and finally generate a backup onto a small 2.5” External Hard Drive. That gives me three copies of the photos, which means that other then when I’m travelling between communities, there is always a copy somewhere that I’m not, with an extra level of redundancy for safe measure. Nothing would be worse than to spend all this time, effort and money and have the images, either stolen or lost, due a technical malfunction with any one of those three devices. So, after taking care to secure my work, I’m free to stroll the streets, soak in the sounds and of course photograph whatever catches my fancy.
It was while strolling the streets of Huamanga, Peru that I was approached by a young man, who upon seeing my rather large Nikon camera, cozyed up to talk photography. I had been warned about people approaching on one side to distract me, while another would sneak-in on the blind side to liberate anything of value, so I casually secured my bag and tripod and politely answered his questions, but it quickly became obvious that he had a sincere interest, without any ulterior motives.
It turns out that John – ya I know but it isn’t that uncommon for people to have English names because parents will name their children after well known movie and TV actors, and as it turns out his full Given Name, is Johnn Rhys – who at only eighteen and with a high school diploma, rents a small office in the beautifully restored Centro Turistico Cultural – San Cristobal. where where he has a small graphic design business, producing signage, brochures and restaurant menus for local businesses.
Most of the architecture in Huamanga, and the Centro Turistico is no exception, follows the southern Spanish formula of an austere façade facing the street, with a very large, solid door through which one passes into a sun-drenched Andalucian courtyard. It’s like stepping into another, secret world where lazy cats stretch out on cool stones and the trickling water from a simple fountain sooth the commotion just steps away.
John’s space although on the dark side, has just what you would expect to see in any similar business back in Canada a desk for his computer, monitor, printer and book-case to store reference materials and office supplies. He also has enough room for a small studio to photograph table-top product or portraits. I’d be tickled pink to have his space as a studio / office. I’m viscerally inspired by well designed spaces and beautiful architecture and just being on the second floor of this cloistered courtyard, made my head spin.
Although John does have competition, when I asked him how he manages, he emphasized the importance of Customer Service, noting that it’s not a concept that is ingrained in to the Peruvian culture, but that helps distinguish him. What ever it takes. Not a bad philosophy for everything in life.
We spent around three hours together talking and walking around with our cameras, taking photographs and comparing notes, after which we returned to one of the handful of little patios in that beautiful Andalucian courtyard, where I invited him to lunch. Although not nearly as poor as Bolivia, the exchange rate in Peru is around one Canadian Dollar to two and half Soles, making it very inexpensive to travel here. I of course am not travelling with Canadian Dollars but rather with Soles, just as every other CUSO Volunteer, but we none-the-less, both had a wonderful home cooked meal, and by that I mean that it didn’t come out of a bucket or re-heated frozen package, for approximately $3.00 CDN each, while sitting in that priceless, beautiful courtyard.
Annie and I stayed in Huamanga for three days and three nights, in yet another beautifully restored building, come the Santa Maria Hotel. Nothing luxurious, but quaint and appropriate under the circumstances in any location. We arrived on the Wednesday before Palm Sunday and everywhere we went we could see that preparations for Holy Week, were in full swing. Soon there wouldn’t be a vacant room for rent, anywhere in town and beginning on the Thursday, small processions leading up to the big event on Good Friday, began to meander through the narrow streets, at some point passing through the main square, La Plaza de Armas.
However, there was another nationally significant event scheduled for Friday night that no one could ignore, a FIFA World Cup qualifying game being played in Lima, between Peru and their arch rivals Chile. Annie and I arranged to meetup with a few other volunteers in the central square and then made our way to a local watering hole, Restaurante Nino, to catch the game. I didn’t have a favourite team in the contest, but I thought it prudent to cheeeeeer and ohhhhh in tune with my hosts. However, it wasn’t long before I too was infected by the ebb and flow of the game and grimacing at the near misses in favour, and sighing in relief at the close calls against. The final score was Peru 1 – Chile 0 and everyone went home happy.
In the three short days that we were there, Huamanga grew on me and Saturday rolled around way to soon. I became familiar with the streets around La Plaza de Armas, had been charmed by a handful of the townsfolk and wanted desperately to spend more time photographing the architecture and street scenes.
Saturday, woke up warm and sunny and since our flight didn’t leave until mid-afternoon, I hurried back outside for one last walkabout. I wasn’t disappointed. Along all the balconies surrounding the main square, were hung intricately, handmade, palm-leaf motifs in anticipation of Holy Week and the plaza had definitely taken on a festive mood. Walking about were hawkers selling everything from balloons to religious trinkets, and sunglasses to windup flying-birds-of-paradise. An overdose of sights and sounds, but what caught my attention most, was a line of woman in traditional folk dress, strung along the west side of the plaza making fresh ice-cream… by hand. What a send off. I couldn’t resist, so after discreetly photographing some of the woman, I shuffled over to try some for myself. It was delicious.
Till we meet again.
Posted in Miguel's News, Photo Essays, Travel Log
Also tagged Andalucia, Architecture, Ayacucho, Chile, CUSO, FIFA, Holy Week, Huamanga, Peru
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Bolivia – Faces
Difficult to believe, for me anyway, that I’m closing in on one year since my return from Bolivia. Despite the passing of twelve months, memories of the experience haven’t faded much. The first few weeks after my return were taken up with all the Christmas preparations and immediately after ward, I had to pick through a few thousand images to edit down and process the bank of photographs from my assignment, before passing them along to CUSO International.
For anyone reading about my trip to Bolivia for the first time, in the dyeing days of the summer of 2011, I had the wonderfully good fortune to be chosen by CUSO, to participate in a project to visit one of several countries where they provide Development Aid. As one of six teams of journalist and photographers sent to various points around the world, I was assigned to Bolivia, where we visited several projects to meet with CUSO beneficiaries and volunteers and to document their projects, through words and photographs.
I learned a lot from the experience, in terms of packing equipment, scheduling visits and assertiveness to maximize the days and opportunities available in a relatively short period of time. Looking back through the images, a year later, I find that I’m able to be less critical of what I produced and take pride in what was accomplished
As photographers, we are a pretty insecure and self critical lot. That probably works in our favour, when it comes to pushing ourselves to do better next time, always searching for a unique perspective and turning on the charm to befriend a subject, on their turf.
I’ve added a Gallery of images in my Photo Essays that I’ve given the Title: Bolivia – Faces. These are my favourite People Photos from that trip and maybe as soon as next week I’ll add another Gallery: Bolivia – Places. Kinda has a nice ring to it don’t you think? Some of the images maybe familiar from my Blog Posts while in the field, but regardless, they are worth gathering together for a second look. Enjoy and don’t hesitate to provide any feedback: good, bad or ugly.
Posted in Miguel's News, Photo Essays, Travel Log
Also tagged Bolivia, CUSO, South America, Travel Log
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Hasta La Vista Bolivia
You may have thought that I’d fallen off the face of the earth, and at times I wish I had of, but nope, I’m back in Toronto. Dropped in to Pearson International two weeks ago, instead, and have been trying to get up to speed: returning telephone calls, answering E-mails and opening and sorting Post Mail. I was without daily access to the internet during my last week and a half in Bolivia, so Blogging let alone uploading images would’ve been impossible. Still, I knew that there were some final observations I wanted to pass along and certainly Post Posting Blues that would need airing.
The Large Cities: OK, we only got to La Paz and Santa Cruz. The other two large cities of note are Sucre and Cochabamba. Oddly, returning to La Paz felt like I was returning home. I know, I know, I was only there for a week before heading down to Santa Cruz, but what can I say. As wonderful as it was to spend three weeks in the warm; no, hot and humid, embrace of that Amazonian City, I find La Paz far more interesting from a photographic point of view. You just can’t beat the steep and winding streets for interesting compositions. Also, there is far more colour than in Santa Cruz, as well as a variety of buildings of different heights, the surrounding mountains and the quality of light at either end of the day is just amazing. If only they would do something about the air pollution, I could live with the constant honking of car horns.
The Overhead Sun: I know this might sound “so what” to those of you that have traveled lots, but one thing I observed the very first day I arrived in La Paz in late October, was that this was the first place and time in my life where I’d been anywhere where the noon day sun was almost directly overhead, on it’s way south for the summer. Also, although there are many variables, such as altitude and geography, it takes a little getting use to the notion that it gets colder the further south one goes, rather than north, like I’ve always been use to. The night sky was amazing and I had the opportunity, while in San Antonio, to locate the Southern Cross.
Strangest Experience: There I was in Santa Cruz, Bolivia, a colonial Spanish city, and walked into an Irish Pub, with the Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Californication playing over the in-house loud speakers, and ordered a Lasagna de Carne, but the saving grace was the cold Huari, a Bolivian Beer. No Steam Whistle, but just as welcome.
Safety and Security: I was warned about openly carrying my camera in plain view, in certain neighborhoods in La Paz and told outright that Santa Cruz was a very dangerous place. Now I wasn’t about to outright dismiss the advice and certainly it pays to be prudent, however, and this may be naive of me, but I honestly think that people over react. There is a fear of the other, which at times I think is more dangerous than the perceived threat. I’m a photographer, the whole point is to have my camera out. Keeping it in my camera bag or worse in the hotel room, is pointless. I’m always careful and aware of my surroundings, even in my home town of Toronto.
When walking around, I try to be discreet and cradle the camera in my arms to disguise it, but I watch people’s eyes as they walk by and I clearly see their eyebrows go up. I was told that it wasn’t just a matter of keeping my hands firmly on my equipment, but that I could have someone pull a knife on me. Now that would be frightening, but fortunately, I didn’t experience anything remotely threatening.
No doubt the language was a huge advantage for me, but generally I found people to be friendly, if not always the greatest ambassadors for their cities. Try and get directions and it seems that no one knows where anything is, not even the taxi drivers. On my second to last night in La Paz, I was looking for a restaurant where I could order Llama, that’s the relative to the camel not the jolly old monk in the orange Kasaya. Anyway, I stopped in front of the Plaza Hotel, on the main pedestrian strip, Paseo del Prado, to ask two policeman where I could find the Marbeilla, which I had been told should be close by. Well they didn’t have a clue. I could’ve been asking them for directions to Casa Loma. I walked a block and a half further and there it was. It was on their beat!!
Racism: I think this goes back to a point I made earlier about a fear of the other. Although I never witnessed anything overt, there is some internal resentment between different indigenous groups. Also, be it politically driven or not, I think that some people don’t quite get that the tourist is bringing in money. I add politically motivated, because there is currently a Government led my Evo Morales that likes to play the evil foreigner card. Anyone arriving from abroad and wanting to invest, must want to “steal what’s ours”. Maybe a truly democratic political system with checks and balances would go a long way to prevent, if not completely avoid the corruption that can lead to stealing of resources for personal gain, so enough with the broad brush.
Things I Didn’t Lose: My Notebook in the small restaurant in Copacabana, my Camera on the Island of the Sun on Lake Titicaca and my Monopod on the bus returning from Copacabana.
Things I Did Lose: My Red Baseball Cap and grey Hoody, or what as a child, we called a Kangaroo, because of the… ya… the pouch. Actually, I didn’t lose it, so much as someone liberated it.
Challenges: No one there is follicly challenged, so I stood out when sans Red Toque, despite being vertically challenged, like most paisanos.
Well there you have it, some last thoughts, although I doubt they will be the last I think about Bolivia, the people I met and the wonderful experiences I had. OK, one last thought, it’s a long flight, the air fare can be expensive (try the off season) but once you get there, and traveling with Canadian, Australian or U.S. $$, the British £ or the Euro, it’s very inexpensive to eat, move around and visit some of nature’s awesome sites. Oh Ya! Learn to drive a Standard Transmission and get your Drivers License, you never know when you’ll be asked to take the wheel.
Some parting shots of the chaotic knots, the colourful buildings in La Paz and a self-portrait. The rest will have to be face to face.
Buenas noches Illimani.
Gooood Evening San Antonio
From the very beginning of this volunteer experience with CUSO, I’ve felt like a bit of a fraud, for one simple reason. I knew that I was going to spend a relatively short period of time in Bolivia and wouldn’t have the opportunity to completely integrate myself into the local habits and rhythms. I was non-the-less, reassured that my contribution is very important, and if I am to accept that everyone’s role, how ever small, is important, then I must learn to be more generous with myself too. Difficult to do, sometimes, when one is made to feel insignificant unless earning a certain income or attaining a “respectable” job title.
Not to take away from others I’ve met here, but we recently visited a Spanish volunteer, Jesus Torrero Bustos, in San Antonio de Lomerio and his story most closely matches my pre-conceptions of the experience. Jesus recently completed his first of a two year posting in San Antonio, a small rural community that gained access to the electric grid only six short months ago. Previously, only the Municipal Buildings, Community Radio and Church, had diesel generators to provide limited hours of electricity. There are no telephone land-lines or cellular service, internet goes with out saying is a dream, and although there are a few municipally installed public-access hand-pumps scattered around the town, those who can afford to do so, have small water towers in the court yards behind their homes. A water truck periodically visits San Antonio and those who can afford it, pay to have their cisterns topped up.
Jesus arrived here with a mandate to provide training to existing Cooperatives and guidance to others wanting to organize and take advantage of financial assistance provided by the various levels of government. By offering workshops through his position with the Municipal Government, ranging from basic Administrative and Organizational skills to developing Marketing Strategies, he early on recognized an even more fundamental need; a Financial Education. Having most of their needs met, Jesus observed that there was very little long term thinking in the Chiquitanian tradition or educational experience. The issue is far more complex than I have space for here, to elaborate on, however, in a nutshell, when finding themselves with a bit of extra cash, the towns people are most likely to spend in quickly, rather than consider saving it to repair the roof next year or reinvesting it in their side businesses. See, we are more alike than different.
Drawing on his undergrad degree in Pedagogy Psychology and Masters in Human Resources, Jesus quickly came to the conclusion that guiding adults in the community through the process of registering businesses and offering workshops was all, well and good, but targeting school children is the only way to make long term, attitudinal changes. Coincidentally, this past year, the Bolivian Ministry of Education tabled legislation to implement changes to the curriculum and Jesus was approached, through his employer the village of San Antonio, to research teaching methods that could be used to introduce that new curriculum.
A year later, a series of workbooks, one for each of twelve school grades has been written, designed and published. The material deals with everything from Money Management, to developing a Social Conscience with an emphasis on empathy and the environment. Until the Ministry of Education, passes their legislation and obliges School Boards to adopt the new curriculum, whether or not to adopt the new material rests with the individual Principals and Teachers, which isn’t a given. Fortunately for Jesus, the Secondary School Principal in San Antonio is eager to use the material. The final and perhaps most difficult challenge for each school Principal, will be securing the funds to purchase one workbook for each and every student, each year.
Because of it’s isolated location, San Antonio is the one community where we spent the most time. One day to travel each way, from and to Santa Cruz, on a Micro, a small bus seating approximately 40, and standing, who ever was willing to do so for the bumpy five hour ride, and two full days in and around the town. On the agenda was to accompany Jesus to the nearby community of Palmeria and that is a story worth telling. He secured one of the vehicles owned by the Town Hall, for use by employees, and requisitioned the diesel fuel that would get us there and back. Only thing missing was a driver. There were five of us making the forty kilometre round trip and, not surprisingly, the 4 X 4 had a standard transmission. A quick show of hands left me as the only one experienced to drive the vehicle. Eeee Gats!!
It wasn’t the first time in my life that I’ve had to manoeuvre around tight corners or dodge pot holes, but it was the first time that I had to do it behind the wheel of a vehicle held together with twist ties. Worst of all, once at the other end of the trip, we discovered that we were without lights, and would have to cut short our visit. I already knew that their were no mirrors and that the shocks were toast, but a quick inventory confirmed that we had windshield wipers but no way to activate them, no door windows, I just thought they were cranked down until I discovered that… you got it, there were no cranks and no horn, important for driving along a narrow, one and half lane, dirt road. We made it back to San Antonio stirred but not shaken and with a slight glow in the sky, as well as our faces.
The next day was taken up sitting in on a Marketing Workshop and visiting small businesses. However, the highlight for us came later that evening when Anouk and I were asked to be interviewed on the Community Radio. Good or bad, we were up against a televised Football Game, so it’s difficult to say how large our listening audience was.
Unlike our arrival in San Antonio, which was under the cover of a star filled sky, the return trip to Santa Cruz, was in full daylight. There’s an interesting Canadian connection to the department of Santa Cruz. Over the past twenty-five years, there has been a very large migration of Mennonites from Saskatchewan to La Chiquitania. Go figure. It’s like the last untamed frontier, or something. However, I’m making it sound far more romantic than I should. That’s because, as farming communities, the Mennonites are largely responsible for the disappearance of much of the natural ground cover between Santa Cruz and Robore, near the border with Brazil, a distance of approximately 450 km. It works something like this. They purchase huge tracks of land, as flat as our western prairies, clear them to grow every crop imaginable, and because this area experiences very low rainfall, once they’ve exhausted these organically poor soils, they move along to the next parcel of land. There’s no doubt that they are producing great quantities of food, but because there are no controls on land use practices, the price, in the long term, will be left for others to pay. Returning to Santa Cruz, from our trip to Puerto Suarez, the previous week, one could see clouds of smoke rising in the distance, and the acrid smell, at times became quite thick, indicating that large areas of scrub land were being cut, burned and prepared for tilling or pasture land.
Casi me he puesto al día, aunque si quisiera, tampoco se trata de que cuente cada detallito, hay que dejar algo por contar en persona. Lo cual en las palabras del gran Filosofo Arnold Schwarzenegger “Hasta mañana baby.”
Posted in Miguel's News, Travel Log
Also tagged Bolivia, Chiquitania, CUSO, San Antonio de Lomerio
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Today Santiago, Tomorrow Yorkville
Enthusiasm can be contagious and within minutes of arriving in Santiago de Chiquitos and meeting a small group of woman, members of a cooperative called La Asociacion de Medicina Natural, I was drawn in. Picture a little village, thirteen kilometers up a dirt road from a paved two lane highway. The village consists of the town square with a small church taking up the length of one side, and homes that also serve as business fronts, along the other three. Four or five streets run parallel to each side of the square and because of the heat, we see more dogs lying under the shade of some precious trees or sprawled on the covered sidewalks, than town folk.
It doesn’t take any more than a few minutes to cross the village and as we reach the far end, which leads to a protected conservation area with hiking trails up to El Mirador – La Antesala Del Cielo, a wonderful lookout high above the surrounding forest, we pull over next to a new, well kept, small brick building. We step out of our van to be greeted by half a dozen, friendly woman ranging in age from the mid twenties to late sixties. Emphasis on the latter years.
We’ve arrived at a small cooperative where both the Cusi and Copaibo Oil, which we saw harvested earlier in our trip, arrives to be processed, packaged and shipped out. It is really wonderful to witness how a simple chain of products and a group of people, who don’t even know each other, can coordinate their efforts to produce something of value, with minimal means yet with a wide vision.
Until recently, these women were producing a line of products ranging from medicinal remedies to personal care products, which were not all together unique. However, what is unique is that they were willing to consider that there is a better way to do it. That their traditional remedies and ways could benefit from a new approach. Another of CUSOs initiatives was to provide small groups of people, such as these woman, with training to improve the quality of their products, to develop long term planning and administrative skills, and to consider expanding their markets to reach beyond the communities in their local traveling circles.
Even for us, it is at times difficult to consider that how we’ve always done things, is not necessarily the best way. Times change, technologies change and as Einstein once said “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. These women had been gathering in each others homes to process the raw materials and to prepare the final products, but that wasn’t going to cut it if they were to improve their production methods and increase the income they could generate. To reach new markets they would have to change, almost everything.
CUSO supplied experts on the ground who provided the practical training, while other NGOs provided some of the funding that was necessary for equipment (basic as it was), and with these two assets in hand, the woman were able to approach the municipal government for support. First on the list, to secure a new facility where they could set themselves up to produce a consistently high quality product using modern techniques for hygiene and where the quantities of raw material going into the process could be measured to more accurately, forecast their profits.
Not to in anyway minimize the “facilities”, but it was truly endearing the way they led us through the door to their LAB, and dawned their white lab coats, hair nets and masks. I should back up and say that their municipal representative negotiated on their behalf, with their small hospital, to obtain a two year, free of charge lease, on a small but new building that was not being used, in which they could establish their growing enterprise.
What they’ve accomplished in the few months since they moved into their new facilities, was quite impressive. Most of all their attitudes were in tune with the challenges they have ahead of them. Keenly aware of the importance that the distant ends of the production chain become acquainted with each other, CUSO is attempting to make arrangements for some of these women, pressing the Cusi Oil, and the men harvesting the Copaibo oil. While listening to the conversation regarding the costs involved in getting everyone together, the temptation to reach into my own pocket was incredibly strong. The cost for a two way bus ride, lodging for one night and meals would amount to roughly 120 Bolivianos each, which translates into approximately CDN $18.00. None-the-less, they would have to choose how many and who could attend, this significant meeting since the expenses would have to be drawn on the profits from everyone’s efforts.
I have described CUSOs philosophy as one of sending people not money, however, there is some funding provided, all be it minimal, for project support, and an effort is being made to find the financial assistance to send a few of these woman on the day-long bus ride to San Ignacio. If as you read this, you too find yourself wanting to reach for a $20.00 bill, remember that for every dollar donated to CUSO, CIDA kicks in another nine. That $20.00 instantly becomes $200.00. Go ahead, give in to the temptation.
Before saying goodbye to Las Santiagueñas, the name brand, we accompanied Sofia Frias to Puerto Suarez, a community next to the Bolivian Marshes. A large navigable expansive wetland on the border with Brazil. In addition to filling orders from retailers in Santa Cruz and nearby communities, Sofia will periodically travel, sometimes accompanied, to Puerto Suarez, to set up a display on a sidewalk in the market area, to sell her wares. Her enthusiasm for the products their cooperative produces, came through naturally in her ability to applaud the medicinal qualities and convince others of their benefits.
After spending the better part of the morning in the market, it was time to find something cold to drink and answer our hunger pains. Alberto, our driver, had been to Puerto Suarez often, and suggested a restaurant next to the water. After almost a week of rice, fried potatoes and tough beef, we were all looking forward to an alternative. The fish on the menu was from the waters of the marshlands and so was the… alligator. In my quest to try something different it was a toss up between two fish I’d never heard of and a third, Piranha. However, I opted for the alligator. Let me just say, I had no idea what to expect, and I would gladly have it again. The meat was white and tender and had no distinctly strong taste, rather taking on what ever it was prepared with.
Unas ultimas palabras. Desde que llevo en Bolivia, se me ha preguntado varias veces, siempre por otros voluntarios, si me choque la pobreza, como si debería de sentir remordimiento o estar avergonzado por tener tanto mas que otros. Ahora, no pretendo que en muchos aspectos, y no solo en los pueblecitos, no hay escasez de algunas cosas básicas, como agua potable, pero debo ver la pobreza de otra manera. No mido la pobreza por lo que uno tiene o deja de tener, y menos por comparación a lo que tengo yo, que ya me parece bien poco. Tiendo a mirar más a las necesidades y menos a los deseos, mas a la alegría en las vidas cotidianas y menos al aislamiento físico, mas a las formas de poder ayudar, que en los obstáculos.
Si es verdad que en Canada tengo electricidad y acceso al Internet en cualquier lugar, y también tengo acceso a servicios médicos y agua potable, pero esta gente tiene sus familias y amigos cerca. También tienen muchas menos preocupaciones económicas. Sus necesidades básicas las cubren sin dinero y no faltan por comida. Hay mucho que pudieran cambiar si quisiesen, pero o no le dan la importancia que le damos nosotros, ni se molestan en hacer nada de ello. A lo que voy es que a veces lo que nosotros vemos como pobreza es muy relativo.
Seguro que seguiré dando le vueltas a este tema por mucho tiempo, tanto durante lo que queda de mi estancia en Bolivia como en los meses y años que vienen.
Posted in Miguel's News, Travel Log
Also tagged Bolivia, C, Chiquitania, Copaibo, Cusi, CUSO, Natural Remedies
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