Bright Places Make Smiling Faces

"Qué estás haciendo?!?" demanded the little voice behind me, sounding more like a distressed complaint than a question. I turned around to face my interrogator and found a little lad of about 7 years with his hair neatly combed to the side, button-up t-shirt tucked in his gray trousers, and his face hopelessly contorted with concern as he watched my paint roller pass over the school's recently completed mural.

"I'm putting a sealant onto this beautiful mural to protect it," I replied after a slight chuckle.

"Ahhh, para protegerlo," he repeated, his demeanor instantly changing as my reply met his approval. He nodded and scurried off to his classroom.

I smiled and turned back to the wall with a renewed since of purpose for my simple task.

While I had not participated in creating the mural, I was content that I could contribute to something that the school and its students were obviously very proud of. A group of volunteers through the organization called Otra Cosa, had worked for two weeks to complete the mural, which transformed a dull cement-surrounded courtyard into a bright and colorful place where the youngest of the children at the school play during recess.

One of the final tasks to finish up the wall was to put hand prints of all the children along the bottom border of the mural. Working in assembly-line fashion, three of us volunteers finished over 250 hand prints in two days time and sealed up the final product. The result is maravilloso!!

Out On A Limb

The morning after Machu Picchu started out easy enough: check out of the hostel in Aguas Calientes, grab a fresh fruit juice at the market, and dodge trains for three hours while following the tracks to Hidroeléctrica where my Maltese travel buddy Rob and I caught a taxi to Santa Teresa for 5 Sol (the best US$1.66 I've ever spent). We had already walked the two hours along the dusty road from Santa Teresa two days before on our way to Aguas Calientes and agreed it wasn't worth the trek back, especially since my boots had wreaked havoc on my tender gringo heels opening up impressive, painful blisters on both feet.

In Santa Teresa we opted out of the simple 35 Sol (under US$12) direct van to Cusco thinking we could save maybe 12 Sol (a negligible US$4.00) by sticking with the original plan and catching a taxi to Santa María and then a bus to Cusco. I clung to the door handle of the Toyota Corolla wagon, a slightly newer model than my '88 back in the States, and tried to pull my attention away from the monstrous drop to the riverbed hundreds of feet below. The car drifted within inches of becoming a temporary airplane at each of the endless curves on the single-lane dirt road. An hour later I was still alive in Santa María at the bottom of the valley.

To our dismay, all the minivans heading to Cusco were full, and all the bus companies were telling us the same for every bus in the afternoon. Our next option was a three hour wait to catch the 4:00pm bus putting us in Cusco around 10:00pm, but we wanted to get to Cusco at a more reasonable hour. We sat by the only through-road in town waiting for the 1:30pm bus to see if we could sit on the floor when a giant truck came thundering into town and pulled up just shy of our roadside roost.

"Vas a Cusco?" I asked.

"Sí" he replied as he unlocked the back hatch revealing the chasmal truck bed that was to be our roomy passage to Cusco.

Three brave French girls, Rob and myself ascended the step ladder into the truck, spread out in spacious luxury that is simply not available in traditional public transportation, and before long we were happily bouncing along towards our destination.

An hour into our bumpy ride, the truck slowed, paused and finally cut the engine. We heard some rustling and a few seconds later a round face popped up over the wooden walls of the truck with a quick but complex question, "Están apurados?" Are we in a hurry? Five confused foreign faces looked around at each other hoping to find a united answer. Naturally we wanted the truck to keep chugging along until we were in Cusco, but the best response we could come up with was, "Por qué?" Why?

Apparently there was a stack of firewood that they wanted to pick up, and we were in no position to demand that the truck continue. We silently acquiesced, and the truck roared to life, veered from the main route, and descended deep into the valley. I began to doubt my hour-old decision to enter this potential death trap as giant leaves from low-hanging banana trees whipped the top of the truck signaling our arrival to the middle of nowhere somewhere in the Sacred Valley of Peru. I quietly pondered what sort of ransom 3 French girls, 1 dread-locked Maltese and a gruff and grungy guy from the U.S. would pull in these parts.

Suddenly the truck stopped and began to reverse, pulling the tail end towards the inclined hill to our right. They were apparently attempting to turn this beast of a machine around.

"But we're on the edge of a cliff with the river below us, right?" I thought out loud.

At that point two things happened: 1) The back end ran out of back-up room and began crushing the limbs of a tree, and 2) I nearly panicked and grabbed my daypack, food sack and sleeping bag with the intention of leaping over the side wall of the truck to the safety of solid ground while this madman finished his maneuvering.

One and a half harrowing minutes and a twelve-point turn later, the truck engine coughed to an uneasy halt. The back doors swung open revealing solid ground on both sides of the dirt road with a long pile of firewood stacked along one side; at least this guy was not as crazy as it first appeared.

Our chauffeur said that loading all the wood would take at most two hours and left us to walk to the river, explore the surrounding bush, or sit around and stare at each other. Once the shock of my near death experience faded and my heart rate returned to readable levels, I looked from my travel companions lounging on the ground to the enormous pile of wood being loaded and saw an opportunity. Without a word I began grabbing logs and tossing them up to the truck bed, trying to keep pace with the crew of Peruvians that were all half my size.

Slowly a dialogue developed, and before long I was laughing and joking with our driver, Luigi, and his crew of roughneck Peruvian truckers. I asked them what they transport when their truck isn't full of firewood and gringos. It turns out they run a semi-regular route delivering food between Cusco and several towns throughout the Sacred Valley. They were on their way to Cusco to pick up another shipment, but could not pass up the opportunity to make some side cash on an unusual mix of cargo. I was thankful that the additional cargo was not livestock nor any product derived from their natural processes. I nodded my approval and continued loading at their vigorous pace.

We packed the entire pile of firewood into the truck in an hour, filling the prior spacious travel compartment nearly to the top. The truck's crew, my foreign travel companions and I once again climbed aboard and sputtered away climbing the valley road while dodging the giant banana leaves that were now whipping our torsos. From our panoramic perch, we had the most spectacular view of the sun setting in the valley as we ascended high into the Andes mountains.

We unloaded in 25 minutes or less in a small village near Ollantaytambo hurling sticks and heavy logs over the side of the truck into darkness. Our eyes battled wind-blown wood shavings for the final two and a half hours to Cusco.

Our nine-hour exploit ended around 10:00pm in the outskirts of Cusco. Luigi charged 10 Sol for his service of safe delivery, just 5 Sol less than the six-hour bus that arrived at the unreasonable hour of 10:00pm. As Rob and the French girls reached in their pockets to pay their tariff, Luigi added, "pero nada para mi amigo," signaling in my direction with a slight nod and brazen grin. A little extra effort had paid my way and earned me the friendship of an unlikely ally. We waved goodbye to Luigi and crew as their truck awkwardly lurched forward down the narrow Cusco street, and I was glad our penny pinching ways had forced us out on a limb.

The Mines of Potosí

I was told that visiting the cooperative mines of Potosí, Bolivia is an experience that should not be missed. I would agree, but it is more of an intense humbling experience than a fun tour. Describing the conditions in which the miners work is difficult, but it is the closest to hell as I can imagine.

Upon entering the mine, large chunks of ice hang from the ceiling inches above your head, but as you move deeper into the mine the temperature rises, the spaces get smaller, and thick humidity makes movement extremely uncomfortable. Naturally light is at a minimum and is almost exclusively provided by headlamps, though electric cables coated in thick layers of minerals do stretch deep into the mines. In many places, crawling on hands and knees is necessary to reach the areas where mining actually takes place. Water and minerals leak down from the ceiling often creating large pools of murky water on the narrow foot path. Our guide told us that toxic materials like arsenic, sulfuric acid, and asbestos occur naturally inside the mines. She even pointed out arsenic minerals growing on the walls. Holes for dynamite are dug manually and explosions shake the mountain every few minutes. There are a large number of mines within the mountain, and all operate independently meaning that no one knows when an explosion in another part of the mountain is going to occur. With structural supports like the one in the picture below, collapsing tunnels is something that seems imminent.

The work that miners do is strenuous and equipment is basic. Pneumatic hammers are the only power equipment used, everything else is done by hand including hauling the large bins full of minerals to the mine entrance.

Four men work together to haul minerals out of the mine

I gave them that soda, but the present seemed a bit weak considering the situation

Miners working to replace a popped tire on their wheelbarrow

Due to the conditions in the mine, especially constant exposure to toxic materials, the average life expectancy of miners is around 45 years. The next time I start to complain about going to work at a comfortable, non-physically demanding, slightly boring job, or get stressed about commuting to work in traffic in my car listening to music with the A/C or heat on, I'm going to remember these guys and the hell they go through every day for a monthly wage that many people in developed countries make in a day.

Hogar de Cristo in Quilpué

Building on the previous blog post, below is a quick video introduction to the Hogar de Cristo site in Quilpué where Holy Trinity's donation will likely be put to use:




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Covering the patio will provide an outdoor recreational area for the site, especially in winter when all the children are stuck inside due to cold weather and rain. The project aims to accomplish larger goals than just providing space for recreation. Due to the funding structure of the organization, this site's kindergarten and daycare center receive financial government assistance depending on attendance. This means that if children get sick and attendance drops, so does government funding. With all the kids cooped up in a confined indoor space all day during cold and flu season, it is easy for transmission of diseases to occur. Though the area to be covered is relatively small, the hope is that it will provide an outdoor space that will alleviate cramped space within the building.

A view from inside the patio



Looking into the area to be covered

Quilpué, the town where this particular site is located, sits outside of Viña del Mar and Valparaíso, Chile. These two adjacent cities attract large crowds of tourists and host a large number of students. Unfortunately, Quilpué is too far away to realize much financial or human capital benefits. Attracting volunteer help is difficult when there are plenty of opportunities for volunteers to work in Viña and Valpo without commuting 45 minutes by bus outside of town.

Money donated by Holy Trinity Catholic School will help start the process but may not be enough to complete the entire construction project. To donate to Hogar de Cristo, click here, or e-mail me at TwentyTwelves@gmail.com for specific information about this project.

A Little Help From Afar

For the last 3 weeks here in Viña del Mar, I have had some success finding random volunteer work (lots of painting, delivering food to the homeless, etc...), but I haven't been quite as active with Hogar de Cristo as I had hoped. The idea was to devote a significant amount of time to one organization so as to give myself enough time to begin understanding the organization, drawing on some of the lessons I've learned in the past (discussed in the previous blog post). While I have not been able to arrange a constant schedule with Hogar de Cristo, I have been very fortunate to have support from Holy Trinity Catholic School in Charlotte, NC in order to provide something of value to Hogar de Cristo. Through the efforts of the students and staff of Holy Trinity, Hogar de Cristo will receive a donation that is sorely needed. For more information on donating to Hogar de Cristo, click here.

Below is a statement from Holy Trinity:

Once we heard about The Twenty Twelves Project, we were ecstatic for the opportunity to participate in James' adventures, as well as foster a humanitarian vision in our students. As a result, teachers created lesson plans and projects around James' travels. We encouraged students to read the blog and research the towns and cities visited in James' adventures. We held open discussions on the importance of leadership and fellowship, which inspired the students to join various charities here in Charlotte.

On May 1st, we held a Dress Down Day in order to raise money for Hogar de Cristo, an organization James is working with in Viña del Mar, Chile. Dress Down Days are days where the students pay $1.00, or more depending on how much they want to donate, to wear something other than the school uniform. The students were delighted to participate and contribute to the cause. We were able to raise close to $500.00 dollars for Hogar de Cristo in Chile. The students of Holy Trinity Catholic Middle (Charlotte, NC) learned a great deal not only about culture, but also about lending a hand in foreign communities. We are thrilled to help, and will continue with the project once school is in session in the Fall of 2009.

On behalf of Hogar de Cristo and myself, I would like to thank the students and staff of Holy Trinity for their enthusiam, motivation and generosity! Your efforts make a difference even on the other side of the world.

Downtime to Reevaluate

After circling back through Buenos Aires for my 4th visit this trip and stopping for 3 days in Mendoza to settle down, I have ended up back in Viña del Mar, Chile where I spent 5 weeks for a study abroad 5 years ago. Viña is where I attribute my initial decision to make Spanish a principal focus of study, and therefore partly the reason why I am back here in South America now. I may be looking a little rough around the edges and travel-worn, but I'm feeling energized and inspired after 5 days of downtime to assess the last 5 months since starting this trip. The two principal questions I've been pondering are:

What are some of the most important lessons I've learned? And how do I apply them to the next leg of the adventure? Here are some thoughts:

• It is essential to spend substantial time with social projects to understand how they work and what internal and external factors influence operation. At the beginning of the trip, I envisioned working with a multitude of organizations for a short period of time each and helping to raise awareness of what they do. It finally hit home after working with Cruzada Patagonica at the CEI San Ignacio school in Junin de los Andes that true understanding takes time. We extended our stay an extra week and still felt that after 2 weeks we were just beginning to get to know the people and how they live. I've given myself a month here in Viña, though the usual red tape and difficulties in communication have been chipping away at my active involvement time. That leads to my next point:

• There is always something productive to do. With all this waiting time, I've been occupying myself with learning the Chilean slang, discussing social and cultural issues here in Chile with my slang professors (hostel workers), as well as participating in interesting student-lead community outreach efforts. After talking about the reason for my extended travels (which is common hostel chatter) and my volunteer efforts, one of the hostel workers invited me to join him on an outreach program that he participates in every week.
  The outreach program is organized by students at a local technical institute. Every Monday the students prepare and deliver hot coffee, tea and simple meals of pasta and bread to homeless people in the area. I spent the evening talking with a wonderfully welcoming couple in a modest 6x10ft shack built in the city's old sewer canal (El Estero Marga Marga), which is now used for parking and flea markets among other things. Something as simple as offering a hot cup of coffee on a cold night helps begin the process of bridging the gap between the marginalized section of society and the relatively privileged.

(Old sewer canal Marga Marga in Viña del Mar)

• I can't do everything on my own. Trying to accomplish all that I set out to do was perhaps more ambitious than realistic. The majority of planning for the trip was done with two people in mind, and when it became a solo project I decided to go ahead with all the multimedia ideas anyway. First, I generally have to deal with logistics of where I am going, how, when, and where I will stay when I get there. If someone is hosting me, the first things to do is spend time getting to know my host. It would be rather rude to say, "Hi, nice to meet you. Will you leave me alone for a day or two so I can edit some video?" Second, it is next to impossible to carry around a video camera, get useful footage, interact and establish relationships without making people feel uncomfortable (with a video camera in their face), and actually be productive and useful all at the same time. Therefore...

• Focus on the goal. The goal is to begin to understand cultural differences and local economic, social and environmental factors in order to help people and start working together effectively. While I want to share what I learn and provide a full multimedia production of the adventure to help others understand, I am not capable of being an internationally mobile production team. It would be great if I could be, but I think that I've found my personal limit. I suppose that is still a productive lesson to learn. What does that mean for the rest of the trip? Vamos a ver...
  

• On a more supernal level, the idea that there is a reason behind every event and delay, large and small, is something that was pointed out in a simple but powerful way during my short stay on the permaculture site in Brazil. That realization has followed me during the last two months and helped me to start looking for opportunity or significance when something goes awry. It is difficult to explain why, but there is something sublime in the accumulation of many seemingly unrelated factors from the past and the present producing a situation that is somehow more favorable, even though it may be wildly different or a slightly uncomfortable, than the one envisioned. So here I sit in a hostel without heat, freezing los coquitos off, and unable to get things moving at a preferable pace with the volunteer work. In spite of this, I'm not worried because there are a large number of factors in my favor, and I'm learning, finding inspiration all around me, and beginning to see the ways, means and the ends of the project more clearly. I may not have made as much geographical progress North as I originally planned, but learning to accept and flow with the obstacles and opportunities that present themselves is a more important type of progress.

So with the next blog post, my characteristically "American" optimism says I will have good news to share about my volunteer status with the organization here in Viña. Send happy thoughts.

Building on Experience

After leaving Iguazu Falls, I visited some friends in Santa Fe last week for my first stop in Argentina on the slow cross-continent trek to Chile. A friend that I met last time I passed through Santa Fe invited me to visit the school where she works and speak with the class about some of my experiences since beginning the trip. She was discussing the ideas of micro enterprise and sustainability, so I felt that it was appropriate to share what I learned on the permaculture site in Brazil.

The school is called La Cecilia - La Nueva Cultura (The New Culture), and it is a naturalist school with a significantly different philosophy of learning than any other I have encountered. Students are able to choose what they want to learn about and how they spend their time. The campus also has a small organic garden, so many of the permaculture ideas that I learned while at Sitio São Francisco in Brazil were suprisingly applicable to this completely different setting.

Showing pictures from the site to one of the classes

If you understand Spanish, you can read more about the school on their website. Two students interested in journalism pulled me aside for an interview (no, I didn't sign any autographs, though they did compare me to a couple of celebrities), and a film student took video. You can see the video from the interview on the school's blog.

A Unique Brazilian Experience

A few weeks have passed since I last posted to the blog, and I think the reason I haven't been able to post an update on the Carapicuíba project is because I am still trying to process all that happened. I was thrust into the experience by circumstance, and each day the experience seemed to direct and shape itself. A brief overview might help explain:

It began at the permaculture site, an incredible experience in itself, and continued in São Paulo where we were supposed to be for only two days. After five days I was finally able to go back to the site just to gather my things and return to the city because the opportunity to collaborate on the project in Carapicuíba presented itself. The idea was to renovate a public park that was in terrible condition using ideas from permaculture, Felipe's specialty. The Secretary of Education of Carapicuíba initiated the project as part of establishing an open university. What does 'open university' mean? Well, I don't know exactly, but I think it is similar to community colleges in the states where a wide variety of courses in the arts can be offered alongside mathematics, sciences and the usual.

The group that worked on the project consisted of Felipe, an engineer and the owner of Sítio São Francisco, and three international architecture students that Felipe knew - one from France and two from Spain. After many late nights developing the idea for the project and several meetings with local authorities, the Prefeitura of Carapicuíba (basically the mayor of the city) confirmed our trip to the capital of the country to meet with people from the Ministry of Education.

Presenting the basics of permaculture -
on the screen is the Flower of Permaculture

As the project stood after our trip to Brasilia, things were still up in the air as to what extent the project was going to be supported by federal funds. Basically we ran up against the stifling power of bureaucracy, but as Felipe pointed out, we were able to spread the idea of permaculture to some federal bureaucrats who were quite interested in the ideas, which is a small success in its own right. Unfortunately, they weren't able to provide the kind of support that we were hoping to receive for this sort of unique project.

Late nights developing the idea for the project.


One of the first presentations about the project was made
to the Secretary of Education of Carapicuíba.


The next step was to convince the Prefeitura
of Carapicuíba to back the project.


From there we took a road trip to Brasilia.
Here the group is working hard on our lunch break...
well, the girls are working hard.

Our final meeting in Brasilia.

I think this experience ranks at the top of my list of frustrating experiences. By the time we arrived in Brasilia and encountered the bureaucracy, I was already accustomed to not understanding and being frustrated. For almost an entire month I tagged along while the other four people in the group discussed the project and daily logistical plans in Portuguese. I never completely understood what was going on at any given moment. All the frustration, though, forced me evaluate the situation and the experience in a different way, and it ultimately led me to significantly increase my already immense propensity for patience. It also provided the necessary atmosphere and drive to learn Portuguese. If the group had spoke English the whole time, I never would have picked up the amount of Portuguese that I did. I suppose the challenge is what it was all about in the first place, and I certainly encountered a unique challenge during my time in Brazil.

My goal all along has been to help out in any way I can, but without the ability to communicate effectively it is difficult to establish what that means. In the end, I was able provide a few contributions to the effort. For one, I gave my opinion on the presentation they were giving and how to direct that more towards each different person/group that they presented to. With all the experience I have giving presentations in college, I feel like I had a few worthwhile tips for them. It even helped that I didn't understand the project in detail due to the language barrier because it lent a certain objectivity to my observations. At the beginning of the project, they asked me to document the process for them, so one of my more tangible contributions was in the form of raw video and pictures from the development of the project and the road trip to Brasilia. I personally won't be able to use much of the video due to my lack of translating abilities in Portuguese, but at least now they have a visual record of the process that they can perhaps use in the future.

So, the Brazil leg of the journey has come to a close, and I am slowly making my way West across the continent to Chile to spend a few weeks working in Valparaíso before starting the journey North. Bye bye Brazil - I will miss your zest and contagious energy. Muito obrigado to all the incredible people who helped light the way. Nunca posso olvidar, e com certeza vou voltar algum dia. Até logo!

Murgas in Uruguay

With a little bit of time here in São Paulo, I have been able to go back and revisit some of the video that I haven't had time to sort through. The video below is from the murga performance that I went to in Montevideo, Uruguay. It is part of Uruguay's month-long Carnaval celebration. Murgas are musical theater that often criticize social and political issues, and I remember hearing the word "Yanqui" quite a bit (yanqui is someone from North America). Their commentary on everything from international politics to local social movements drew enthusiastic applause from the crowd. Some groups were quite comical while others were more poignant, but they were all entertaining!


Murgas in Uruguay from Twenty Twelves on Vimeo.

Sítio São Francisco

It has been a very dynamic, educational and challenging experience working on the permaculture site as well as continuing the experience in São Paulo with people from the site. I only spent one week actually on the site, but new opportunities have lead us to a project transforming a run-down city park into part of an open university using ideas from permaculture and sustainable living. The group has a meeting tomorrow with the mayor of Carapicuiba (which is basically part of São Paulo, though technically its own municipality), and then we will see if we are going to Brasilia, the capital of Brazil, to meet with the Minister of Education. It is certainly not the kind of experience that I thought I would have going to a farm far outside the city, but it is turning out to be a much more diverse and valuable experience than I could have imagined.
With that said, below is a bit of an introduction to Sítio São Francisco. I also have footage from the Bioconstructing Workshop that Felipe hosted there, but I need some translating help before it can make any sense. Enjoy


Sítio São Francisco from Twenty Twelves on Vimeo.

Technical Difficulties Technically Not A Problem

It has been an intense week and a half at Sitio São Francisco, a permaculture site in the Quantinga Valley about 2 hours outside of São Paulo city. Besides a day trip to the nearby city of Mogi das Cruzes, I´ve spent the whole time communing with nature in a house in the middle of the woods without electricity or running water. I´ll spare you the details of the banheiro seco or my lack of a shower, but the butterflies don´t seem to mind the natural aromas-

This little guy hung around for a few minutes.
The number 88 is dinstinctly marked on its wings. Crazy.

Despite the unappealing details I´ve been really enjoying the experience. The first few days involved intense manual labor cutting down Eucalyptus trees, dragging them down a narrow wooded path then over a hill, stripping them of their bark, cutting them to size with a hatchet, and finally nailing them in place. The structure below (on top of the existing concrete building) uses materials found on the site or recycled from trash. The only materials bought for the building are the nails. An interesting side note that won´t make my mother proud, Felipe (the owner/only permanent resident of the site) and I dug out some useful materials from a city garbage container in downtown São Paulo last night that included carpet and a bamboo laundry basket. The creativity and resourcefulness here continuously amaze me.

Eucalyptus frame with bamboo poles running laterally along the roof


This bamboo pole is now on top of the building in the background

What has been so incredible is the diversity of opportunities to learn new practical skills while actively participating in creating something new or improving something that most have given up on. Watching your efforts become something of tangible value holds such a deep sense of satisfaction. On top of that, the physically demanding days (and absense of city noise, i.e. passing cars or crazy people with slabs of concrete yelling at passing cars) make for some of the best sleep I´ve had in a long time.

Group from the weekend permaculture/Tai Chi workshop building a solar oven
with materials found at the site. More on that later.

We are now in São Paulo city while Felipe collaborates on various projects utlizing his knowledge of permaculture. In the last two days we have met with a family opening a cultural community arts center based around their Capoeira school, a neighborhood reclaiming an unused area to create a park dedicated to education about the African diaspora in Brazil, and the municipal government of Carapicuíba (basically part of São Paulo but not technically) renovating a public park and looking to implement ecologically friendly ideas from permaculture. I happened to stumble upon the most intense and diverse experience one could have in Quatinga...

We are heading to the federal capital of Brasilia next week to meet with an important federal government official. I can´t tell you who...not because I´m not supposed to, but because either I forgot the name or that part got lost in translation. Regardless, my time here is proving to be much more exciting than I imagined. A small glitch that occured tonight is the refusal of my computer to do anything. Luckily we are in São Paulo and Toshiba has an office here that might be able to help. With the way things are progressing, though, it will be nice not to worry about computer details and focus on the more immediate details of how I can be useful. Perhaps my computer crashed to help keep me connected to reality rather than cyberspace.

Happy Easter - Feliz Páscoa

Here is a giant chocolate Easter egg for you from Brazil.
Feliz Páscoa