The end of a journey

Home sweet home

I have arrived back to the UK, with its greenery and drizzling weather. There has been a heatwave, but it still feels a little cold in comparison to the mid-forties sweltering heat of Oman, and I have already adopted the fluffy-dressing-gown-over-clothes look, much to my parents' disbelief! It's strange to be back, and to know that I will be here for the next year before I graduate at least. Having lived outside of the UK for almost a year now, among peoples and cultures vastly different to my own, I am experiencing a kind of reverse-culture shock. Things that I was once familiar with, like girls wearing very little clothing in public despite the rain, have become weird. I have had to refrain from shaking my head and thinking how culturally insensitive it is- because it's not. Oh well, on the plus side I no longer have to really think about dressing conservatively despite the scorching sun!

In addition to the minor reverse-culture shock, Oman has left its traces on me linguistically. Random Arabic phrases that had become a normal part of my everyday vocabulary will now be met with confused stares, and I have to stop myself from using them. I think it's a problem every Year Abroader faces on their arrival to the UK, and even if it does make us sound pretentious, at least it's a sign that we did immerse ourselves in the culture and the language... right?!

 Anyway, the last two months of my time in Oman were full of many exciting things which made the end of my time there the most memorable. Here is how it went down:

I last wrote about the make-up photo shoot that I participated in, and after a long wait I got some of the final results. It's safe to say that I will never replicate those khaliji eyebrows again, but it was fun to try!

The next part of my adventures in Oman took the form of a ball for Muscat's 10th annual Africa Day. It is a celebration of Oman's African community and their shared histories. Due to Oman's ruling over Zanzibar starting in 1698 (which included the Sultan moving Oman's capital city from Muscat to Stone Town in Zanzibar city), there is a strong Zanzibari presence in Oman, and you will hear Swahili being spoken regularly. But all I can say is hakuna matada... The ball raised money for various charities and the theme of the ball was 'Africa is rising', focusing on the continuous development and growth within the continent. The venue was filled with people dressed in brightly coloured traditional clothing from many different African countries, and on arrival there was a band of African drummers and some nibbles and drinks.

It's safe to say that the food was delicious and plentiful, something, my Ghanaian friend told me, was typical and would certainly not have been left out of an Africa day ball. I felt stuffed after, but could still make my way to the dance floor where the real party was beginning! There was a well-known band from Nairobi who got everyone off of their seats for hours of dancing. I was with the salsa group and they didn't disappoint, leading group dances and generally adding to the craziness of the night. A highlight of the evening was when the band did their own rendition of 'In the Jungle (the lion sleeps tonight)'! It was incredible to see yet another dimension of this beautiful country and its people.

I then got to experience my first ever (and definitely not last) salsa festival in Fujairah, United Arab Emirates. Some of my friends and I travelled up in the car, listening to salsa music (with some Arabic music thrown in for good measure) for 5 hours. I had been told that it was an opportunity not to be missed and I would have never seen anything like it. So I was undoubtedly excited to partake in this festival, where hundreds of Latin dance enthusiasts would be meeting to spend four days learning more moves, watching the professionals and, most importantly, taking part in three nights of dance parties from 10pm-7am. To top it all off, the venue was beautiful and luxurious.

The first night consisted of a pre-party which was relatively small-scale, and ended at the early hour of 3am... But no fear, there was an after party in someone's room to keep the dancing going, even if it was a bit squished. The first full day started early afternoon with registration and workshops until evening. That day I spent 5 hours in workshops learning lots of salsa, bachata, and kizomba moves and felt thoroughly exhausted after! But the 5* all-you-can-eat buffet replenished my energy and we headed to watch the professionals performing in the nightly show. They were fantastic but I still hold my belief that good-old spontaneous social dancing is better. It may not be polished and smooth, but it is more gratifying. Then the real fun began: the all-night social dancing parties. Three rooms dedicated to different styles of dance: salsa, bachata, kizomba, zouk, and tango. I had a go at all minus tango, but maybe I'll have a swing at it in the future! There were people of many different nationalities, from every continent, including many from Arab countries. I didn't last until 7am but I had a real go at it!

 
The next couple of days consisted of much of the same, but there was a pool-side party and a beach party to mix it up a bit. If you don't know already, that area of the world is very hot at that time of year, but diving into the cool water of the huge swimming pool really did help! The festival was truly amazing and unforgettable, and I will definitely be going to more in the future. Although, I doubt pool parties will be on the agenda in England...

Now, my last couple of weeks weren't all parties and dancing because the holy month of Ramadan began and the salsa group opted for more appropriate activities, such as playing volleyball or gathering for food when Muslims break their fast. Ramadan is the holiest month in the Islamic calender in which Muslims fast from food and drink (among a list of other things) from sunrise to sunset. The breaking of the fast is called iftar and is a time for family and friends to gather together and share food. Eating and drinking during the day in public is punishable by law in Oman, which is something I kept forgetting, and ended up practically throwing my water bottle to the ground on one occasion. I attended many iftar meals in various settings: at a mosque, at a friends house, with the salsa group... It was a pleasure to be welcomed by Muslims and non-Muslims alike to share in their traditions and I have learnt an awful lot more about the culture during Ramadan alone. Although it can be frustrating at times for non-Muslims (think no restaurants or shops open during the day), Ramadan is a special time to witness the heart of the culture and its people.

Ready for iftar at a local mosque

Unfortunately, I left Oman just two weeks into the month of Ramadan, which means that I won't be there to celebrate Eid, three days of feasting and celebration at the end of Ramadan. Saying goodbye to all the friends I had made was very difficult, but they made my last few weeks there very special, including lots of cake and chocolate. The Year Abroad has been the best (and most difficult) year of my life so far, and I have learnt so much that I hope to take with me back to Durham for my final year of Uni...

So, thank you to everyone who made my year incredible, and I hope that I will come back soon! Until then, I hope that I don't annoy too many people with the infamous line 'on my Year Abroad...'.

I hope to continue this blog with other adventures soon, insha'alla...

A model for the day

Post-make-over: looking very different!

This weekend I had the opportunity to model for my teacher's sister-in-law who is training to be a make-up artist. I had never done anything of the sort, aside from a couple of 'photo shoots' that my mum took my sister and I to do a few years ago. I am also not a girl that wears a lot of make up and I knew my face was in for a complete transformation, as Omani women are generally not stingy when it comes to special-occasion make up!

Some of the other girls from the Arabic centre came along to get their photos taken too, making it a fun, girly day out, and a much-needed excuse to get out of our apartments and the surrounding area. We all squished into our teacher's car and headed for a town in the mountains, listening to Arabic music (along with a little Zumba music for some reason). When we arrived at the salon we were told to wait in one of the rooms for a little while before everything was set up. But Omanis won't leave you for too long without food, so after a short while we were bombarded with crisps, sandwiches, desserts, and drinks.

Once everything was ready, it was time for the first girl to get her make-up done, and we awaited eagerly to see the transformation. Special-occasion make up in Oman is colourful, daring, and can completely change the way you look (which was the case for me). Kathreen, my housemate, who was the first to undergo the make-over, looked great when she got up from the chair, and I was excited to see what mine would look like. And I didn't have to wait long, as I was up next.

As I said before, I don't wear make-up often, mainly because it's a lot of effort, and I'm not a morning person. When the make-up artist said that she'd like to use pink for my eyes I was a little hesitant, because even when I do wear make-up it's never colourful, let alone pink... But, pink would go with my outfit, so I said yes. There was a lot of different pink and brown eye shadows used, various eye-liners, and pink lip-gloss. In addition to that, in true Khaleeji style, thick, dark eyebrows were painted on top of my own. That was probably the weirdest thing to get used to, as eyebrows change the way you look more than you'd imagine. The next thing that made a big difference was the use of long fake eyelashes, which I've never tried before. When she put them on, my eyelids felt heavy and I could see them in front of me, but I must admit that I liked them! When I looked in the mirror my face looked like that of a different person. But, without my hair done, the make-up was overpowering, so I made sure that I was next for the hairdressing.

The lady who did my hair worked in silence for the first part, unaware that I could speak Arabic (she doesn't know English). But when I finally spoke to her, she started chatting away. She told me about her family and asked me questions about various things, and I was happy to practice some Arabic and also to make the hairdressing experience less of a prolonged awkward silence. She used two yarns of wool at the back of my head in order to create volume that my hair otherwise couldn't achieve, and until the balls of yarn were covered with my own hair, it looked really funny. I also had rollers in the front of my hair to add to the comic effect. However, once she had finished working her magic, it looked very elegant, and when I walked back into the room with all the other girls I was told it should be my wedding day and we were in need of a groom!

Finally, my make up was balanced out by my oh-so-voluminous hairdo! 

It turns out that they had ordered KFC whilst I was getting my hair done, and I was so ready for food! All of us girls ate fried chicken with full faces of make-up, and some with rollers in their hair; it was a funny sight to behold!

After a long wait, it was finally time for the photo shoot, the reason for all the make-up, hair, and fried chicken. The photos were taken by two guys with a great sense of humour, and we all had fun posing and pretending to be qualified models. I don't have the official photos yet but I will post them when I do. To top off a fun-filled day out, one of the models (a nursery teacher of the make-up artist's son) was celebrating her birthday that day, and we all surprised her with cake and sang Happy Birthday during her photo shoot!  

Just another day in Oman...

Volunteering in Oman: giving a little, getting a lot... (Part III)

Daymaniyat Islands- Cleaning up the beaches

Complimentary hat and t-shirt! 

By far my favourite lot of volunteering was helping to clean up the beaches at the beautiful Daymaniyat Islands Nature Reserve, off the coast of Muscat.

We arrived early in the morning for supposedly an 8am start, but due to Omanis working on a slightly different concept of time to the very punctual one I'm used to, we started about an hour after that. We were all presented with a free t-shirt and hat, and plenty of water and juices. You know you've done volunteering in Oman when you have a wardrobe full of complimentary t-shirts with the organisations logo on them... We were given coloured ribbons to put on our wrists, which decided which island we would be cleaning. My team were the whites, which sounded strange when I heard 'all the white people on this boat!'. So all of us 'whites' went on to a big police boat, and set out for the islands. Now, I'm not good with boats at all. One time my family and I rented a pedalo boat in Spain, and I had to get out and swim all the way back to shore as I couldn't hack the movement of the waves rocking the small boat... But, actually, the big boat was fine, and I couldn't feel the waves beneath us, so I sat and enjoyed the view without feeling the need to throw myself off-board!

The journey to the island that we'd be cleaning took about 45 minutes, and the view from the boat was breathtaking. There are lots of small islands dotted around, and the water is so blue and crystal clear in some areas that you can see right down to the bottom. As we approached the island, I realised that the boat was far too big to go right up to the shore, and then I saw the small boats that would be taking us from then on. Getting off of the big boat and onto the small one was quite scary and the small boat didn't look the safest, but it was an experience nonetheless! When we finally got to our island we could see why there were so many volunteers needed; the beach was littered with so much rubbish. I couldn't believe that people could just throw away everything and anything onto such a pretty beach, and a nature reserve too!

We were all handed plastic bin liners and told to only pick up certain things for each bag, so that rubbish could be sorted for recycling later on. We spent about an hour picking up bottles, plastic bags, tins, foil, you name it! There was a whole boat full of the rubbish collected and the beach looked great afterwards. It was very satisfying knowing that we'd made a big difference to the reserve, and a difference that visitors can enjoy for a while before more rubbish starts to pile up once more. We were told that they had done a similar volunteering day the year before, which is quite sad considering that people continue to leave behind rubbish year after year...

After we finished with rubbish collecting, it was time for some snorkelling! We had brought along masks in hope of some free time on the islands, and weren't disappointed. We had a long time to swim and see the coral and fish that surround the islands. I now have very strange tan lines from wearing conservative three-quarter length trousers all day out in the sun, but it was worth it.

We were then called back to the beach and it was time for lunch! One Omani guy had volunteered his rather fancy boat for the day to transport volunteers from island to island. He even brought out his sailor hat and put on some music that made us feel like we were on a party boat rather than participating in a day's volunteering. It didn't take us long to get to the other island where lunch would be served, but I was quite sad that our party boat trip had to end.

In true Omani style we all sat on the floor in circles under a large tent and ate from a big communal plate of rice and chicken with our hands. It was the best rice and chicken I have tasted here (and I've eaten a lot of it these past months!!). I'm always a bit weary when eating with my hands because a. I always end up making a mess, and b. I can hear my mum's voice in the back of my head telling me it's rude to eat with your hands. But that's how they do it here, so in order to be culturally immersed, I went along with it!

We went back to the port on the 'party boat', and it was a great end to a great day volunteering! As I've said before, my volunteering experiences in Oman tend to be characterised more by receiving than giving, but at least this time I could physically see a big difference being made, even if it only lasts a short while!

Volunteering in Oman: giving a little, getting a lot... (Part II)

Muscat- Earth Hour Event with Oman Environmental Society

Free T-Shirt with the society's logo

The second volunteering opportunity posted on the board at CIL was an event with the Environment Society of Oman who were putting on an event raising awareness about Earth Hour and the environment in general. We were the same group to sign up to do it again; they said we were the kind hearted ones, but maybe we were just the ones who wanted something to do on the weekend...

The event was to take place at a golf club at The Wave, an expat community near to the Arabic centre. The ironic thing about the location of the event was the very well watered green grass of the golf course, but oh well... The event was mainly for families, and there were lots of children's games set out around the area. However, I was in charge of collecting electronic waste and talking to the visitors about this. I was informed about what type of waste was accepted, what happens to the waste once it has been collected. The collection was run by a private company that collects electronic waste on a business level. Many people brought old computers, batteries, printers etc. etc. and even a whole van full of waste was brought along on behalf of a local school. However, I noticed that a lot of people were interested in recycling on an individual level, which is not currently available in Oman, as far as I'm aware.

This lack of recycling has been something that has annoyed me throughout my time in Muscat. So much goes to waste here: paper, plastic bottles, cartons, and everything else I religiously recycle at home. I really hope that the country (or at least Muscat city) opens itself up to widespread recycling facilities in the near future! In fact, the centre where I study now has small recycling bins scattered around, which is at least a step towards better environmental awareness in Oman.

At the event we were provided with free t-shirts, water, and a goody bag with environmentally-friendly bits and bobs in. Once again, I felt like I didn't work that hard, but people seemed to enjoy the event, we received a lot of electronic waste, and awareness was raised for a good cause!

That evening my flatmates and I sat in darkness for Earth Hour, with just the light of our laptops glowing (hmm, maybe we still have a bit to learn about being environmentalists...).

Volunteering in Oman: giving a little, getting a lot... (Part I)

Dimaniyat Islands, Oman

As a part of my Arabic course at the Center for International Learning I have had numerous opportunities to volunteer on a short-term basis. The opportunities having been rewarding to a certain point, but in reality what I have discovered about one-off volunteering in Oman is that you don't necessarily have to do all that much in terms of work, but you still receive a lot in return...

Rustaq- Elderly People's Home

The first opportunity was a day volunteering in an elderly people's home in the Rustaq region of Oman. When the sign-up sheet was put up on the board, I was quite surprised by the nature of the volunteering opportunity. You see, Omanis, and Arabs in general, are known for the importance they put on family life, and it is more likely than not that they will take in members of their family who are in need. Often, Omanis live in a house with various different members of the family under the same roof; mothers, fathers, children, aunties, uncles, grandparents... So, it was strange for me to find out that there even was a home for the elderly in Oman, taking this into account. But one thing I've definitely learnt about Oman, and any foreign country really, is not to jump to rigid conclusions about the culture, people, or happenings; there are always exceptions to the stereotypes, and things that will surprise you.

My two house mates and I were the only ones who signed up for the volunteering, but we later found out that that was more than enough people for the task at hand! The student affairs coordinator and one of the Omani female teachers also came along with us to help out. We headed to Rustaq in the school minibus, stopping on the way to take a photo by a large statue of a traditional Omani coffee pot, because why not? When we finally arrived at the home (a good two hours away and seemingly in the middle of nowhere) we were welcomed by some Omani women who were part of a charitable team and were preparing a BBQ for the residents, that we'd be helping to serve. They were very enthusiastic about us volunteering for the day and we took lots of photos before we even entered through the gates. I didn't really know what to expect, but the home was spread over a large area, and very pleasant looking. There were outdoor sitting areas under the shade and various buildings for different purposes scattered around. We were ushered into the meeting room for a quick briefing of the day ahead.

The talk was done all in Arabic- and not the Modern Standard Arabic that I learn at the centre, but mostly in Omani Arabic dialect. This was a great opportunity to practise listening skills and chat to the other volunteers around me in Arabic. I understood the majority of the talk and found out more about the home, and the reasons why it was set up. There were a few reasons given as to why people are sent to live there. Some of the residents have no family left to care for them, and others have mental disabilities which meant that their families were unable to take care of them themselves.

After the talk we took a tour of the home and met the residents. This was probably the saddest part for me, as many of them were unable to look after themselves at all, and were bedridden. We shook everyone's hand and said the formal Arabic greeting, but it was very difficult to understand anything more that was said. One man recited a poem for us, and and few other men joked around and seemed happy to see us. There were lots of people working at the home, helping the elderly residents with daily tasks and giving them the company that they need. It was nice to see that they were cared for well, by people who are keen to do their job and more.

We then started to prepare the lunch by carrying a few boxes from one place to another and setting up a table of food. To be honest, we didn't do a whole lot, in comparison to what I thought we'd do, but we made people smile and were part of a nice day for the residents and other volunteers alike. Once we'd done our (small) bit, we were invited to sit down and eat. After that we were presented with small gifts to say thank you. We all felt a little bit guilty, receiving gifts for such little work, but it seems that that would become a trend in terms of my volunteering experiences in Oman.

On the way home from the home we made a stop at the near-by hot springs, which are meant to have 'healing powers'. I don't know how much I believe that, but it was nice to dip my feet in the hot water nonetheless!

Hot springs, Rustaq

A gringa's guide to Peruvian slang...

I didn't have a photo for this post, so Happy Llama will have to do!

One thing I learnt whilst living and travelling in Peru is that the Spanish language is much richer than I originally thought. Some Peruvians preferred to use the word 'castellano' instead of 'español' when talking about their language, which I'd previously learnt about in a linguistics class. It's a deliberate distancing from the Spanish spoken in Spain; 'castellano' is not specifically Spain's language, it's also theirs. Their own version, with different words and phrases, different pronunciation, and sometimes different grammar. I won't go into linguistic details here, but it's quite interesting how supposedly one language can differ so much from country to country, and even region to region- I am an Arabic language student, I should know!

Then you have to consider that even within the same 'dialect', there are still significant differences. For instance, I might say 'what's up?' to a friend but I'd never say it to a potential boss in a job interview. We adapt our language to the situation, to the people with which we are talking, their age, their relationship to us etcetera... This is certainly the case with the Spanish spoken in Peru. I was taught a formal form of Spanish from Spain, so had to adapt the way I spoke when I arrived in Peru. I'd already stopped the 'lisping' pronunciation (formally described as destinción) used in Spain when I started university, mainly because it requires more effort, and in Peru they don't use it. But there were still many other aspects of the language that I had to adapt to. For example, in Peru the word for car is 'carro', whereas I'd been taught 'coche', which is used to mean 'shopping trolley' in Peru. Aside from all these differences there are sociolinguistic differences too, how the people adapt their language to varying social situations.

Peruvians, or at least the ones I met, seem to love their slang, and use it only a daily basis. So, here are some of the ones that I found were the most common and that I liked the most:

Al toque - al momento - right away

A su madre/asuuu! - expression of surprise

Bacán, chévere, paja - bonito/bueno - cool

Bamba - imitación - a fake (e.g. DVD, branded clothing etc.)

Brichero/a - a Peruvian who tries to get with foreigners in order to get a green card, 'gringo hunters'

Causa/pata - amigo/a - friend

Chamba (chambear) - trabajo (trabajar) - work (to work)

Chancha - colecta entre amigos - a whip-around (money) 

Chela - cerveza - beer

Chibolo/a - infante - kid

Churro - hombre guapo - good-looking guy

En bola/en bolivia - embarazada - pregnant 

Flaco/flaca - novio/novia - boyfriend/girlfriend

Huevón - tonto - stupid, slow (in terms of intelligence), idiot

Huevadas - tonterías - nonsense, stupid remarks

Luca - un Sol - one sol (Peruvian currency)

Mamacita - guapa - good-looking (women only)

Mancha - grupo de personas o de amigos - group of people or friends

Ñoba - baño - bathroom (syllables switched around)

Palta (qué palta)/roche (qué roche) - vergüenza (qué vergüenza) - embarrassment, how embarrassing! 

Pituco/a - persona adinerada - rich person, posh (negative)

Tono (tonazo) - fiesta - party (great party)

Violinista - third wheel (in a relationship)

Yapa - algo extra que nos dan cuando compramos - a small gift (given by a vendor after you buy something from them)

I also learnt some slang from the jungle region of Peru, where the Spanish is quite different from that of Lima. Their pronunciation is very different, meaning that at first I had difficulty understanding some people! For instance, the 'j' sound is transformed into a 'f' in some cases such as 'jueves' ('Thursday'), becoming 'fueves' in pronunciation. Some words used in their 'dialect' of Spanish are taken from the Native American language 'Quechua'. Here are some of the slang words and expressions I picked up:

Charapa - persona de la selva - someone from the jungle

Doña - señora - Miss/Mrs./lady (used directly to the woman)

Huambra - mujer adolescente - teenage girl

Huambrillo/a - niño/a pequeño - small child

Huahua - niño pequeño - small child

¡Ish! - ¡agh! - yuck!

Pelejo - oso perezoso - sloth

Ya vuelta - no te creo - I don't believe you, no way!

Year Abroad in Peru- Part IV, Cusco

So, now for the final part of my Peruvian journey: Machu Picchu. One of my main reasons for choosing Peru. Now, you already know that I don't deal well with altitude, so I was apprehensive when I boarded the flight to Cusco, the city that everyone stops at before they visit the ruins. I had heard that flying there was worse than getting the bus as it doesn't give your body any time to acclimatise to the altitude, but the plane tickets were already booked. A short while after landing I started to feel the effects of the altitude, so sat with a cup of coca leaf tea in the hotel lobby. The tea tastes disgusting, but it's meant to help. I ended up feeling a bit better and went out to explore the city. Cusco is a pretty city, and jam-packed with tourists, all headed for the same destination. That evening there was an outdoor concert on in the plaza de armas in aid of the local police force. There was traditional music and dancing, the participants all wearing beautifully coloured clothing.

The next day, I decided to go on a free walking tour of the city. It lasted a couple of hours and we had a Peruvian food tasting session after it ended. We went to the the huge San Pedro market where you can find just about everything: fresh fruit and vegetables, herbs with 'healing powers', chocolate, souvenirs, fabrics, traditional clothing etc. etc. We were warned not to eat from the prepared food stalls though, as, according to the guide, you need a stomach of steal to deal with that! The tour took us to various other places around the city, focusing on Inca remains, and the culture and history of the city. On the tour, I spotted a chocolate museum where they do chocolate making courses. I needed to go. I mean, technically speaking I'd already done the same course in Arequipa, but you can never learn enough about, or taste enough, chocolate in my opinion. Anyone who knows me well enough, knows that I am a chocoholic; I adore chocolate and seem to get quite grumpy if I don't have my daily fix. So I booked my chocolate course for later on that afternoon.

Yes, that is me surveying how much chocolate I managed to get all over my hands...

The course starts with an introduction to the history of chocolate, which was done in both Spanish and English. Then came the best bit: chocolate tasting. We each tried different types of chocolate, dark, milk, and white. Despite all the talk about dark chocolate being the best, the chocolate of the highest quality, the chocolate that only someone with a refined palate can appreciate, I'm still a sucker for milk chocolate. The instructor taught us how to make hot chocolate using the Ancient Mayan recipe, with chilli and cinnamon to add to the flavour. It was quite grainy and I didn't really like it all that much, but chocolate has come a long way since then! Next, he brewed us a tea made with cacao nibs, which was rather tasty. I'm not a tea person, but make it chocolate flavoured and that's enough to convert me. Finally, he taught us how to make modern-day chocolate. We got to use different flavourings, from nuts, to oreos, to coca leaf powder. Considering coca leaves are banned in the UK, and I was intending to take the chocolate home with me, I stayed away from them. We then put our chocolate bars in the fridge to set and picked them up later. The course was entertaining, affordable, and the instructor kept us all laughing the whole time.

My friends arrived in Cusco a couple of days after me, and we didn't even know that we'd booked into the same hotel until I walked down the stairs one morning to hear their familiar voices chatting away in the lobby. One of my friends wanted to go horse riding, and so did I, so we went to a travel agents and booked it for the following day. That night I started to feel ill again and couldn't sleep well at all. When I woke up I felt so bad that I rang up my friend to cancel the horse riding and took myself to the doctors. The same thing happened as had happened during my trip to Colca Canyon. Altitude had gotten the better of me. I was prescribed more medicine and told that it should get better in time for my four day hike to Machu Picchu. But in the back of my mind I was thinking about the fact that the hike climbs up to a higher altitude than Cusco city, and that couldn't be good. I spent the rest of the day in bed, feeling sorry for myself, and worrying about the upcoming hike.

The next day I felt a bit better, but still apprehensive. The girls at the G Adventures desk, the agency I was doing the trip through, told me not to make any decisions about cancelling the hike until the day before it was to take place, just in case I regretted it. But I was starting to feel like a four day hike, at altitude, with no way of quickly coming back down to the city should I need it, was not what I wanted. After lots of thought, I decided that I'd go with the tour group, but not partake in the hike and just meet them at the Machu Picchu entrance when they arrived. It felt disappointed that I wasn't going to be doing the hike that I'd been looking forward to for so long, but was also very relieved. On the bright side, at least I could look half-decent in my photos with freshly washed hair and clean clothes, which would not have been the case if I'd gone on the hike!

Eventually, I felt well enough to do the horse riding, which turned out to not be as good as imagined. The horses looked as though they weren't cared for enough and the tour was quite boring, with a Quechua-speaking guide who couldn't speak English or Spanish very well. At first I thought my level of Spanish had significantly decreased until the Peruvians started exchanging confused looks at us too, obviously not understanding what the guide was saying. We saw other groups out at the same, on much healthier looking horses, smiling and seeming to be having a good time. So I guess we just picked the wrong tour. After the tour finished we walked to the 'White Christ', a big statue that overlooks the whole city, which looks beautiful from above. 

My Machu Picchu tour eventually began, and we spent the first day making our way to Ollantaytambo, the village where the hike starts and also where the train sets off for those who want to arrive to Machu Picchu in style (and comfort). On the way to the village we stopped off en route at an animal rescue shelter, various archaeological sites, and had a huge lunch that was probably more for the hikers' benefit than my own. We arrived in Ollantaytambo, my home for the next few days whilst the others hiked, and it soon became clear that I would have nothing to do there. It's tiny, very pretty, but tiny. There are a few markets, some ruins which we visited with the group, and some restaurants. It was going to be a long three days alone...

I said goodbye to those hiking the following morning, and had no idea what to do until my train to Machu Picchu. So I decided to have a wonder around the markets. However, once you've been to one traditional market in Peru, you have kind of see them all; all the same handicrafts, just a different city name stitched onto them. I'm not saying they're not interesting, they are, but I'd already been around so many markets, and bought so many souvenirs, that all I was trying to do was pass a little time. I walked into one shop that sold hand-crafted jewellery. The shop owner struck up conversation and was impressed I could speak Spanish, as most of the tourists don't. We chatted for a while about Peru, about my time there, and also about la pachamama, Mother Earth. The guy had dreadlocks, and was sat on the floor threading bracelets with beads on them. He told me that, if I wanted he could put a braid in my hair, and I agreed, as what else did I have to do in the village? He told me that he was putting special beads in my hair that represented the four elements. He thought the braid was very spiritual. I thought it was very Gap Yah. But hey, new experiences, new people. After he had finished, he said that maybe we could go up the mountain to pay respects to pachamama with a coca leaf offering. I said maybe we could, but wasn't all too keen on the idea, and decided to avoid the area where the shop was for the rest of the day.

At lunchtime, I went to a restaurant, and not the kind that they recommend tourists to go to. I'd eaten in so many dodgy places in Peru that I just decided to risk it. Unfortunately, the risk backfired when I cut myself on a broken glass table and ended up back at the hospital to treat it. I did think that maybe pachamama didn't actually want me to make it to Machu Picchu! 

After my days of isolation, the train journey to Machu Picchu finally arrived. The train, which is pretty fancy, takes you to the village below the ruins, and I was to stay there overnight before getting the bus up to the entrance. Everything in the village is overpriced because all the tourists have to pass through it before visiting the ruins, but I stayed in a relatively cheap hotel where the staff were friendly. I was starting to get excited for the next day again, after all the drama. Finally, what I'd been waiting for was just around the corner. 

I had to wake up in the early hours of the morning to get the bus in order to meet the hiking group that I'd left a few days before. The bus ride up was really bumpy and quite scary, winding up and around the mountain, the driver dodging the buses making their way back down on a road that really should have a one-way system. When the bus arrived at the top, the entrance showed no signs of the Machu Picchu I'd seen in so many photographs. There was a café, a restaurant, and a big arch indicating the start of your Inca adventure. After a short time of waiting outside the café, I finally saw the group, looking run down, yet elated. They told me it was incredible, very difficult, but incredible, with stunning views. It made me wish I'd done it, but I was glad just to get to the entrance not feeling ill. We were told to show our tickets at the entrance and get a special Machu Picchu stamp on our passports on the way out. Once we entered the gates there was a short walk, and then we stopped. You could just about make out shapes in front of you; the fog was thick. You could feel how tense everyone was, had they walked all the way here to see nothing for the fog? 

Our tour guide, who was so knowledgeable and passionate about the Incas (he'd also walked the Inca Trail over 500 times), started to tell us about the history of the ruins, booklet in hand with photos showing Hiram Bingham, the person who revealed the ruins to the rest of the world, at the citadel. During his talk the fog started to clear and we could finally see what we came for. It was a surreal feeling standing among the ruins that I had only seen on Google or from my friends' Facebook photos. They truly are stunning, and the whole place, nestled in the mountains, is breathtaking. 

A misty Machu Picchu

We continued on the tour for two hours, learning about small details about each of the main constructions, taking lots of photos. After that we were told we had some time to walk around freely, so I headed up a hill to take the photo that everyone has to take when they go to Machu Picchu.

It doesn't count if you don't have your arms spread out...

I don't think it's possible to get a photo without masses of tourists in it but oh well, the backdrop sure does make up for it. 

And sometimes a llama will get in your way...

But all that doesn't really matter too much because you're at one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and it's beautiful.

My Peruvian adventure ended soon after that, and when I saw the Coca Cola advert outside of Jorge Chavez International airport for the last time I couldn't believe how much had happened since the first time I saw it. I know it's cheesy to say, but I really did feel like a different person. I'd grown up. 

Year Abroad in Peru- Part III, Lima

Although sad to leave Arequipa, Lima was by far the best half of my time in Peru, having settled into Peruvian life, gotten a hold of the language, and grown in confidence overall. I was to have two placements in Lima, both lasting around a month, in very different schools. Lima in general is not very pretty, but it does have park full of cute kitties, and a redeeming coastline. I also had to buy lots of winter clothes as, when I arrived, the weather was cold and wet. But it soon became a place I loved, and brought out the small part of me that is a city girl. Its crazy public transport and busy streets soon became exhilarating rather than terrifying, and I loved the fact that there was always something to do, at any point of the day or night. Lima has so much to offer, but do trying going when it's summertime there as the constant clouded sky and drizzle of wintertime can be a real dampener (pun intended).

La plaza de armas

I was now working at a smaller school in Miraflores, and assisted in classes where the children were aged from 8-14 years old. I soon made friends with the teachers and it didn't take long before they took me out for churros y chocolate in an awesome restaurant called Manolo's, deemed to have the best churros in Lima. It was delicious and I was thoroughly stuffed afterwards. The atmosphere at the school was very friendly, with all the kids and teachers, including those not in my classes, saying hi and smiling whenever they saw me. One of my younger students walked up to me during a class, not saying anything, and shyly handed me a loom band bracelet that she'd made for me. So cute! When I eventually left the school, they got me a cake and even threw me a party. The students in one of my classes stood up one after the other and thanked me personally for my help and said some really lovely things- which did bring me to tears!

Halfway through my time in Lima, I made a trip to Tarapoto, a city in the Peruvian jungle. Life there seemed to be completely different to Lima. Firstly, people rarely use cars, opting for motorbikes or tuk tuks, called 'motokares', and some of the roads are more like dirt tracks. Secondly, the weather was wonderful, sunny and hot, with one rainstorm that definitely trumps those that happen in England. It's a truly beautiful part of the country, with its abundance of palm trees and nearby waterfalls. I took various trips to the waterfalls, a blue lagoon, and a village with a castle and a traditional Quechua-speaking community. The other Peruvians on the tour (I was the only gringa on all of the trips) decided I was the princess of the castle and took photos with me. The advantages (?) of having blue eyes and, apparently, 'blonde' hair. I went out at night to an outdoor nightclub called Anaconda, which was packed each night and great fun. Peruvians really know how to party!

Princess Charlotte

Peruvian Jungle

Palm trees and motokars

On returning to Lima, I decided that I needed to make the most of the thriving night-life whilst I still could. I went on lots of nights out with the other volunteers, and my Peruvian host sister, who helped me to pick out more appropriate clothes for nightclubs there. Apparently the dresses that I had picked out were more suitable for prom or dinner parties... Clubbing in Peru is something I really miss now, so I'm glad I went out as much as I could when I was there. Dancing 'til the early hours of the morning is also a great workout for those like me who want to do anything else other than running at 6am!

My third placement was again a very different experience. It was at bilingual primary school located in the same area as the previous school. This time I took on the role of drama teacher, helping the kids rehearse for their Christmas performances, which were all in English. I may be wrong, but I think I had a flair for it! According to the the head of the English department, the performances were brilliant, it's just a shame that I never got to see them as I had already returned back to England by then. I worked alongside another volunteer, Louis, who all the students thought was my boyfriend/husband/brother, just because we are both from the UK... One rehearsal we had to choreograph a dance for Belle and the Beast to dance at the end of their performance. The two students told us that dancing with the other gender was disgusting and would only do it if Louis and I slowed danced first. So we did, and they all burst out in giggles.

I stayed in Peru until just before Christmas, so got to participate in some of the festivities. I had been volunteering (also with VolunTeach Peru) in charity English lessons in a poorer area of Lima, called Pamplona. As part of the project, there was Christmas event in which there would be a chocolatada, a party where people drink hot chocolate, with performances from the children. Unfortunately, I couldn't attend because it would take place once I had already gone, but I did participate in being a madrina for one of the children, which meant buying a gift consisting of an article of clothing and a toy for my ahijada. I wish I had been there to see her opening her present but, hopefully, it made her happy at Christmastime. I actually participated in a Christmas tradition with my host family, in which we drank hot chocolate, which is much thicker than normal hot chocolate, and ate panettone. I also helped decorate the house, setting up the Christmas tree and a little model Christmas village in the living room. A home away from home.

Ay, ay, Cap'in

Year Abroad in Peru- Part II, Arequipa

The bus journey to Arequipa was mega long and was also delayed en route, making it 18 hours in total. I was lucky to have my university friend, Steph, so that I didn't go stir crazy. Steph would be living in the same city as me, although we'd be teaching at different schools, which was a big comfort, and reassurance. We arrived in Arequipa in the early hours of the morning and were greeted by our respective families and left for our new homes.

Beautiful Arequipa, 'the White City'

Arequipa is a highland city, 2328 metres above sea level, with stunning views of the (active) volcanoes surrounding the city. It's a really beautiful part of Peru, much more pleasing to the eye than Lima. It's nicknamed 'the White City' due to the white volcanic stone that was used to construct most of the old buildings, which really adds to its charm and beauty. The view from my bedroom window was the Misti volcano, a great symbol for the region. I later learnt that Arequipa wanted independence from the rest of Peru, and because of that people in Lima mock the arequipeños, and the people of Arequipa would tell me of the horrors that awaited me in the horrible city of Lima. I think it was all light-hearted... maybe. 

The family welcomed me into their home, taught me how to make a Pisco Sour, the national drink of Peru (although Chile claims it as its own also), and took me out on family outings around the city. I could feel my Spanish improving day by day, and my confidence growing. At first I was paranoid of getting mugged and wouldn't go out alone, or take a taxi because of the stories I'd heard about taxi drivers taking advantage of gringos, a name for Americans and Brits that is used a lot by Peruvians. Eventually, I decided that I had to take advantage of my freedom and get out and about by myself. One day, I rang a safe taxi company to come and pick me up and take me to the plaza de armas, and since then I was much more independent, roaming around the streets of Arequipa without a worry.

Possibly the prettiest plaza de armas in Peru

Steph and I ended up exploring lots of touristy destinations in the city, including the cathedral, a beautifully painted nunnery, a museum with a scary and very well preserved mummy and lots more. I also went horse riding along the river.

And here we have it: a woman in a colourful skirt!

Horse riding in the countryside

Santa Catalina Monastery 

As I mentioned before, I volunteered as an English language teaching assistant in three private schools in Peru, one in Arequipa, and two in Lima. The first school was an Anglo-American school and, apparently, one of the best in the city. I worked alongside some great teachers who made me feel so welcome in the school, and comfortable in the classroom. One of the best parts of working there was the freedom they gave me to participate in classes actively. I had the chance to plan lessons, teach the students about culture in the UK, and lead interactive activities. I was even there for Arequipa day, which they celebrated for the entire week at the school (very typically Peruvian: celebrate every festival as thoroughly as possible). This meant that one day a live band played Spanish-style music with traditional instruments. They even decided to serenade the gringa, which ended in me slow dancing with a band member in front of all the students and teachers... Working at that school challenged my teaching skills, and gave me confidence to teach different kinds of students, including the menaces (of which there were quite a few)! Unfortunately my time there came to an end prematurely.

Me and the guy who serenaded me

As it turns out, I don't deal well with altitude. Ever since I arrived in Arequipa I had been ill on and off and it came to its worst point when Steph and I went hiking at Colca Canyon, which is beautiful, more than twice the size of the Grand Canyon in depth, but also high above sea level. I started feeling sick on the journey there as the altitude increased, but put it down to the bumpy car ride. I soon realised that it was soroche, altitude sickness, so I chewed lots of coca sweets, made from coca leaves, as they are meant to help. The scenery on the hike was truly stunning, but the altitude sickness really did ruin it for me. To cut a long story short, I ended up having to get medical treatment for the soroche on my return to Arequipa, and decided that it would be best to move to my Lima placement, at sea level, earlier than intented. In the back of my mind was my planned hike to Machu Picchu, another trek that would take me to quite literally dizzying heights.

Trekking in Colca Canyon