P6301386
Originally uploaded by paddydaley.
This is particularly aimed at you, Simon.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Update.
They say that no news is good news.
But then I was never the bearer of good news. So you can just consider me your very own Grim Reaper (with a tad bit more flesh to him... just a tad mind you) as I impart to you all the happy and not so happy details of my rollacking jaunt.
So here is the low down. The what´s up. The Where have I left my pants again?
I am still in the Madge. And dear god, I want a hot shower! Please please please can someone find me a hot shower! At this point I am considering getting someone to throw a luke warm cup of tea over my left shoulder to get some small iota of satisfaction.(And those of you who wish to suggest that if I can obtain a hot cup of tea I should be also able to obtain hot water for a shower can kindly be quiet! Logic will not be tolerated here.)
The week of festivities for the foundation has come and gone.. and boy was it fun. Although I am disappointed to report that the lovely lady who I judged to be the most suitable Queen of the Pueblo only managed to achieve second place. The outrageous bias of my fellow judges was so heinous as to be absolutely unforgivable! They seemed to think that it was unreasonable to judge entirely on potential semblance to Shakira. And to answer a well put question from the unsurpassable Fyfe-ster... sadly there was no swimsuit category. There was however a ´How much do I love Peru?´section which I think was unfairly heavily weighted. I would have much preferred the more useful ´Let me explain why Peruvians think it necessary to turn off the fridge each and every night´ or a ´Where in God´s name can I find a decent cup of Red wine?´ sections. But small quibbles, as always, just small quibbles.
The dancing was great fun as well. Oh yes, a drunken night mixing it with the brightest and best of the Madge´s A-list out in the town´s hippest venues.(In this case, the local soccer field). What a highlight! Beer a plenty, good music, beautiful guys and gals and songs with a bass line strong enough for me to manage to keep my feet in time. Up till four then stumbled home accompanied by a veritable crowd of protecters - everyone here is convinced that their sleepy little town is a seething pit of violent crime. We are constantly told not to walk down this street or the other. The fact that everyone knows each other and that no place is more than 45 seconds walk away from the other (at the very least a firm ´HELP´ would suffice) does nothing to dampen this paranoia.
Ah, its the little imperfections that make you love a place.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
But then I was never the bearer of good news. So you can just consider me your very own Grim Reaper (with a tad bit more flesh to him... just a tad mind you) as I impart to you all the happy and not so happy details of my rollacking jaunt.
So here is the low down. The what´s up. The Where have I left my pants again?
I am still in the Madge. And dear god, I want a hot shower! Please please please can someone find me a hot shower! At this point I am considering getting someone to throw a luke warm cup of tea over my left shoulder to get some small iota of satisfaction.(And those of you who wish to suggest that if I can obtain a hot cup of tea I should be also able to obtain hot water for a shower can kindly be quiet! Logic will not be tolerated here.)
The week of festivities for the foundation has come and gone.. and boy was it fun. Although I am disappointed to report that the lovely lady who I judged to be the most suitable Queen of the Pueblo only managed to achieve second place. The outrageous bias of my fellow judges was so heinous as to be absolutely unforgivable! They seemed to think that it was unreasonable to judge entirely on potential semblance to Shakira. And to answer a well put question from the unsurpassable Fyfe-ster... sadly there was no swimsuit category. There was however a ´How much do I love Peru?´section which I think was unfairly heavily weighted. I would have much preferred the more useful ´Let me explain why Peruvians think it necessary to turn off the fridge each and every night´ or a ´Where in God´s name can I find a decent cup of Red wine?´ sections. But small quibbles, as always, just small quibbles.
The dancing was great fun as well. Oh yes, a drunken night mixing it with the brightest and best of the Madge´s A-list out in the town´s hippest venues.(In this case, the local soccer field). What a highlight! Beer a plenty, good music, beautiful guys and gals and songs with a bass line strong enough for me to manage to keep my feet in time. Up till four then stumbled home accompanied by a veritable crowd of protecters - everyone here is convinced that their sleepy little town is a seething pit of violent crime. We are constantly told not to walk down this street or the other. The fact that everyone knows each other and that no place is more than 45 seconds walk away from the other (at the very least a firm ´HELP´ would suffice) does nothing to dampen this paranoia.
Ah, its the little imperfections that make you love a place.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Friday, July 14, 2006
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Dreams can come true...
... look at me babe I´m living proof.
Oh yeah!
Indeed, the most cherished desire of anyone´s dark little heart can be brought to fruitition! This normally occurs through the mechanism of dumb luck. (Smart luck is of course, much rarer).
What in the name of all that is holy am I talking about? Patience, my pretties, patience. All in good time.
Here is the low-down
I now am happily ensconched as the local gringo in the lovely hamlet of Magdelena del Cao. Happily, but perhaps not comfortably. You see, running water is a but a far off vista, and hot water, well, let´s just say that Peru will have an asian lesbian cyborg president before I get a nice steamy shower. No, I get to shower with a cold (and I mean cooooold) bucket of water. And so it is that The Madge (as Magdelena del Cao will henceforth be known)is awoken early each morning to the echoes of my girlish screams . What´s more the electricity is as unreliable as a train to Pennant Hills.
I am here with a lovely French girl by the name of Jessica and the both of us are bringing the joys of English to the good people of the Madge. We are very busy. Classes for ninos, adolescentes, adultos and senoras each day keeps us too busy to give ourself more than a cursory scratch. We also do lessons in the local primary and secondary schools. I am quite enjoying the teaching experience - although I think I am more suited to adult education than the kiddy kind. I am too reliant on a little thing called logic which does not seem to apply to the under 10s. Still, it has provided me with a good opportunity to revisit some of the classics - ´What´s the time Mr Wolf?´(which for some reason has become ´What´s the time Mr Dinosaur?´and it is no longer ´Dinner-time!´ oh no, it is ´DINOSAUR!´). Other classics like ´The Hokey Pokey´, ´If you´re happy and you know it´ and ´Heads and Shoulders Knees and Toes´ have also had a long awaited re-release. Too much fun.
But the best thing is, the really fun thing is, that we are absolute celebrities. We cannot walk through the street without attracting a Pied Piper of Hamilenesque train of locals staring at our every move and hanging on our every word. Any event, be it birthday, anniversary, marriage or desexing cannot take place with out the two pet foreigners being dragged in for a photo opportunity.
But here is the punch-line, the cherished dream referred to oh so long ago at the beginning of this entry. Later this month the Madge has its founding celebrations. Three days and nights of partying drinking and craziness await us with talent comps, music battles, groups marriages (I kid you not!) and all sorts of fun things. Among these celebrations there is the highlight-
Miss Magdelena del Cao.
And I am to be the Judge in Chief!
Oh yes, despite my reservations about the intrinscically sexist nature of such competitions, I have had to... oh with such a heavy heart, accept this honoured position.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Oh yeah!
Indeed, the most cherished desire of anyone´s dark little heart can be brought to fruitition! This normally occurs through the mechanism of dumb luck. (Smart luck is of course, much rarer).
What in the name of all that is holy am I talking about? Patience, my pretties, patience. All in good time.
Here is the low-down
I now am happily ensconched as the local gringo in the lovely hamlet of Magdelena del Cao. Happily, but perhaps not comfortably. You see, running water is a but a far off vista, and hot water, well, let´s just say that Peru will have an asian lesbian cyborg president before I get a nice steamy shower. No, I get to shower with a cold (and I mean cooooold) bucket of water. And so it is that The Madge (as Magdelena del Cao will henceforth be known)is awoken early each morning to the echoes of my girlish screams . What´s more the electricity is as unreliable as a train to Pennant Hills.
I am here with a lovely French girl by the name of Jessica and the both of us are bringing the joys of English to the good people of the Madge. We are very busy. Classes for ninos, adolescentes, adultos and senoras each day keeps us too busy to give ourself more than a cursory scratch. We also do lessons in the local primary and secondary schools. I am quite enjoying the teaching experience - although I think I am more suited to adult education than the kiddy kind. I am too reliant on a little thing called logic which does not seem to apply to the under 10s. Still, it has provided me with a good opportunity to revisit some of the classics - ´What´s the time Mr Wolf?´(which for some reason has become ´What´s the time Mr Dinosaur?´and it is no longer ´Dinner-time!´ oh no, it is ´DINOSAUR!´). Other classics like ´The Hokey Pokey´, ´If you´re happy and you know it´ and ´Heads and Shoulders Knees and Toes´ have also had a long awaited re-release. Too much fun.
But the best thing is, the really fun thing is, that we are absolute celebrities. We cannot walk through the street without attracting a Pied Piper of Hamilenesque train of locals staring at our every move and hanging on our every word. Any event, be it birthday, anniversary, marriage or desexing cannot take place with out the two pet foreigners being dragged in for a photo opportunity.
But here is the punch-line, the cherished dream referred to oh so long ago at the beginning of this entry. Later this month the Madge has its founding celebrations. Three days and nights of partying drinking and craziness await us with talent comps, music battles, groups marriages (I kid you not!) and all sorts of fun things. Among these celebrations there is the highlight-
Miss Magdelena del Cao.
And I am to be the Judge in Chief!
Oh yes, despite my reservations about the intrinscically sexist nature of such competitions, I have had to... oh with such a heavy heart, accept this honoured position.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Lakeside living...
Titicaca.
Say it with me now...
TI-TI-CA-CA
Now apparently it is a mix of the Amarya and Quecha language which translatesto mean ´Puma-stone´, but personally I am convinced that there was some Inca wise man out there in the 13th century, pissing his pants over the knowledge that some 700 years hence there would be a bunch of english speaking tourists pissing themselves laughing at water´s edge.
Regardless of what it is called, it is an impressive body of water. The world´s highest navigable lake or so they tell us. It has many an interesting feature too, the most faskinating of which are the Uros, or floating Islands.
Floating what now?
Ok, so you may have guessed that I have finally made my move from Arequipa - with much sadness, I must admit- and am now on the road again. I made my peace with the lake´s gods from the pleasant port town of Puno. It was in Puno as well that I had the pleasure of meeting up with Ms Rebecca Roberts, who as chance had it, was also dallying in the region. Two enjoyable nights on the town with a variable cast of other travellers were had - much crap was talked and the world´s problems, while probably not solved, were at the very least beaten around the head with a dead fish.
I am now in Lima, where there is some civil unrest at the prospect of the creation of a free trade agreement with the USA(apparently like all good things, there are just no original protest issues anymore). Then I move onto a small town outside of Trujillo to teach english to the locals, both kiddies and adults.
Education has not seen anything like this since that gay teletubbie...
The thing is that this town does not have internet connection, so my postings to site may become somwhat more sporadic. Than it already is, I mean.
Rest assured I love you all still and do little choreographed dances of joy whenever I receive word from you. So make me practice my dancing.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Say it with me now...
TI-TI-CA-CA
Now apparently it is a mix of the Amarya and Quecha language which translatesto mean ´Puma-stone´, but personally I am convinced that there was some Inca wise man out there in the 13th century, pissing his pants over the knowledge that some 700 years hence there would be a bunch of english speaking tourists pissing themselves laughing at water´s edge.
Regardless of what it is called, it is an impressive body of water. The world´s highest navigable lake or so they tell us. It has many an interesting feature too, the most faskinating of which are the Uros, or floating Islands.
Floating what now?
Ok, so you may have guessed that I have finally made my move from Arequipa - with much sadness, I must admit- and am now on the road again. I made my peace with the lake´s gods from the pleasant port town of Puno. It was in Puno as well that I had the pleasure of meeting up with Ms Rebecca Roberts, who as chance had it, was also dallying in the region. Two enjoyable nights on the town with a variable cast of other travellers were had - much crap was talked and the world´s problems, while probably not solved, were at the very least beaten around the head with a dead fish.
I am now in Lima, where there is some civil unrest at the prospect of the creation of a free trade agreement with the USA(apparently like all good things, there are just no original protest issues anymore). Then I move onto a small town outside of Trujillo to teach english to the locals, both kiddies and adults.
Education has not seen anything like this since that gay teletubbie...
The thing is that this town does not have internet connection, so my postings to site may become somwhat more sporadic. Than it already is, I mean.
Rest assured I love you all still and do little choreographed dances of joy whenever I receive word from you. So make me practice my dancing.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Monday, June 26, 2006
My Arequipeñan family...
Patrick 229
Originally uploaded by paddydaley.
Say hello to Henri, Ronalto, Juana and (missing) Regina.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Life´s a rollercoaster...
I am of course not only a man of the world. I am also a man of the people. If there is a hand to be shook, I will shake it. A baby to be kissed, I am there. I even help little old ladies across the road! By force if necessary!
Being this as it is, I can hardly refuse the request of a much loved... well, liked sister to explain the story behind the picture with the somewhat alarmist title that depicts my lovely self wearing a slightly panicked expression. (Joking Jess, love ya heaps)
This story begins the morning after having scrabbled my way out of the precipice known as the Colca Cañon. It goes without saying I was somewhat buggered. I do not believe that I have perspired as much in the last ten years. Not even before an exam in Real Property.
But there is no rest for the wicked. Neither is there rest for the slightly lazy or temporally illiterate. Instead, we intrepid... tourists... needed to rise at sparrowsfart (slightly after five for the laypeople among you) to board a bus and be whisked off to La Cruz de Condor to see condors. Which was fine. Except for the fact that it did not work exactly as planned.
You see, despite the fact that our guide Pepe had warned us that the bus-boarding process was a bit, how did he put it? Oh yes, ´abso-frickin-lutely manic´, I and my two Canadian friends still managed to dally over that last cup of mate (nothing like a hot herbal tea dervived from the same plant as cocaine...). Hey, we were tired, ok!
Anyway when we did finally reach the bus, the scene was like something out of Aliens. People were scrambling over the top of each other, clawing, kicking fighting. Some people were carrying bags of rice, others two or three kiddies, who in turn were fighting fairly dirty. The bus itself had people hanging from every mechanical orifice... a surging, sprawling mass of humanity. Pepe was standing beside the bus, almost having kittens-
´Where have you been? C´mon, we have seats reserved!´
´Seats reserved!?!?´I said ´I would be surprised if we had oxygen reserved on that thing´
´No no no no, Trust me´ he replied and promptly grabbed my hand, before disappearing into the seething ball of flesh. I tell you it was horrible. The sights, the sounds, the smells - I was in my own personal wrestlemania, only with less spandex and more llamas.
But stranger than that, was the fact that it was the first time that I had been privy to the clear divide between Westerners and Peruvians that seems to exist here. Because I am almost sure that there is no way that there could have been reserved seats on that bus... but despite this, the crowd of Peruvians parted like the Red Sea, to allow the stupid tourists to have a seat. I am certain that were I to attempt the same feat in Australia, a overweight man in a wifebeater would tell me oh so politely to ´Shove it´ And rightly so.
At any rate, the bus was, shall we say, full. I spent the rest of the trip nursing a 4 yr old boy on my lap, while two elderly native american woman sat on each of my knees. This is while the vehicle was tranversing terrifying roads with blind corners, wide rivers and the occasional pothole that could swallow the latter era Elvis without chewing. Oh and all the while the Canon de Colca (which as you will remember, is very deep!) followed one side of the road. In the event of a crash I would have had to untangle a young child from around one of my kidneys before even considering the problem of how to get out of the overcrowded environment which would by that time by full of injured clothes merchants.
And this is when I took the photo. Which, I must say, I think is quite arty.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Being this as it is, I can hardly refuse the request of a much loved... well, liked sister to explain the story behind the picture with the somewhat alarmist title that depicts my lovely self wearing a slightly panicked expression. (Joking Jess, love ya heaps)
This story begins the morning after having scrabbled my way out of the precipice known as the Colca Cañon. It goes without saying I was somewhat buggered. I do not believe that I have perspired as much in the last ten years. Not even before an exam in Real Property.
But there is no rest for the wicked. Neither is there rest for the slightly lazy or temporally illiterate. Instead, we intrepid... tourists... needed to rise at sparrowsfart (slightly after five for the laypeople among you) to board a bus and be whisked off to La Cruz de Condor to see condors. Which was fine. Except for the fact that it did not work exactly as planned.
You see, despite the fact that our guide Pepe had warned us that the bus-boarding process was a bit, how did he put it? Oh yes, ´abso-frickin-lutely manic´, I and my two Canadian friends still managed to dally over that last cup of mate (nothing like a hot herbal tea dervived from the same plant as cocaine...). Hey, we were tired, ok!
Anyway when we did finally reach the bus, the scene was like something out of Aliens. People were scrambling over the top of each other, clawing, kicking fighting. Some people were carrying bags of rice, others two or three kiddies, who in turn were fighting fairly dirty. The bus itself had people hanging from every mechanical orifice... a surging, sprawling mass of humanity. Pepe was standing beside the bus, almost having kittens-
´Where have you been? C´mon, we have seats reserved!´
´Seats reserved!?!?´I said ´I would be surprised if we had oxygen reserved on that thing´
´No no no no, Trust me´ he replied and promptly grabbed my hand, before disappearing into the seething ball of flesh. I tell you it was horrible. The sights, the sounds, the smells - I was in my own personal wrestlemania, only with less spandex and more llamas.
But stranger than that, was the fact that it was the first time that I had been privy to the clear divide between Westerners and Peruvians that seems to exist here. Because I am almost sure that there is no way that there could have been reserved seats on that bus... but despite this, the crowd of Peruvians parted like the Red Sea, to allow the stupid tourists to have a seat. I am certain that were I to attempt the same feat in Australia, a overweight man in a wifebeater would tell me oh so politely to ´Shove it´ And rightly so.
At any rate, the bus was, shall we say, full. I spent the rest of the trip nursing a 4 yr old boy on my lap, while two elderly native american woman sat on each of my knees. This is while the vehicle was tranversing terrifying roads with blind corners, wide rivers and the occasional pothole that could swallow the latter era Elvis without chewing. Oh and all the while the Canon de Colca (which as you will remember, is very deep!) followed one side of the road. In the event of a crash I would have had to untangle a young child from around one of my kidneys before even considering the problem of how to get out of the overcrowded environment which would by that time by full of injured clothes merchants.
And this is when I took the photo. Which, I must say, I think is quite arty.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
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