October 1, 2001: Floating Villages, Instant ClassConnect - Puno, Peru (Shauna)

Hi! Me Again!

From Puno, here's today.

Short version:
- translated for couple who had a backpack stolen
- trip to reed islands
- impromptu instant ClassConnect! fellow traveler's wife's class in Norway and school on Los Uros (floating island) -- very fun!
- my "debrief" on a discussion with a woman questioning me on "What's the use of connecting these kids?"

I'm off to the market now, signing off to a crystal clear blue sky and hoping for the same tomorrow! Ciao! 

Long version:

This morning started by being translator for a couple who had a backpack stolen -- bugger! They were remarkably positive and calm, making the whole affair a lot less tense. While it meant putting my early a.m. plans on hold, I was only too happy to help -- it's still in recent memory how difficult it is to communicate without Spanish! And, in the midst of the anguish of losing allll your stuff -- ugh! (I was totally ticked when I lost just my odometer, let alone everything!)  We also chat about how often (sheesh! really, you can't even imagine!) ... just how often I have left my bike, gear, bike and gear unlocked. And, here, Suzanne was in the room sleeping (her partner had left to go to the bathroom, leaving the door slightly open), and someone came in. Crazy! Other than my stolen passport while I was "vulnerable" after my accident, and a curious little 5 year old taking and returning my sunglasses, I still have yet to be robbed in all my time on the road. 

-- Off to the dock -- 

And into a boat (with a slight scurfuffle behind me as one guy argued with the woman in charge of my tour that she was stealing his client. I had made no indication to him. All I wanted was the certainty of a boat, and bonus - this one came with a guide.)  Lago Titikaka is the largest, highest navigatable lake in the world, with a length of 165 kms and width of 60 kms. Considered to be fresh water, with 1 gram of salt per liter. Tomorrow or the next day, I will be crossing onto the Bolivian side of the Lake.  

The Uro Indians create and live on layers and layers of reeds, creating floating islands. Quite fascinating! 15 of approximately 40 islands allow tourists to visit; a total of 800-1000 habitants. The native language, Uro, is completely lost as the indigenous now speak Spanish and Aymara. And, the guide wasn't able to answer my question as to what was their original dress (they now have quite a mix of "modern" and clothing found in the altiplano), nor what they did/do for human wastes... a very important logistical factor in my mind!  

Some men fish at night, with the women going into Puno or other communities in the morning to sell the fresh fish. In Puno, they catch the taxis to go a few blocks, and in one other location mentioned, they need to walk about 900 meters.... tiring, very fast... as they never walk more than 25 m on their islands, and are almost always seated. Still, they have a life expectancy of around 80 years. Wow, eh? The lack of exercise must be made up by the tranquility (other than the tourists!).  

With money tight, I debate and spring for the 3 sole (less than $1US) ride over to our next island in a reed boat. It is one of the only forms of income for the families *and* I love anything connected to water. The boat is remarkably stable, and after trying my hand at steering/rowing, I tip my hat to Carlos who drives the boat with skill!! (had I stayed in the driver's stance, we would have made it to the island tomorrow!) 

-- Instant ClassConnect (just add water!) --

On the second island, after jumping up and down on the springy reeds, we poked our heads into the school ... which sprung into an instant "ClassConnect".  I assumed with allllll the tours coming through, these schools would be inundated with such opportunities. However, when I overheard one of my fellow travelers (from Norway) wanting to connect his wife's class, I decided to ask. And Frida, the energetic, smiling teacher, was thrilled with the idea. This was the first time such an exchange had been suggested. The students jumped at the chance to draw pictures to send north to Norway. 

They have maps all over their walls, and people are streaming to their island in all shapes and sizes, speaking in every language ... they have a routine of standing up to greet us. And sing a song.... I imagine we become a blur of adult faces, smiles and scrutiny ...  

Now, an opportunity to make friends with kids their own age? It all happened rather fast, and we had to wind down the quick chat as our boat was waiting .... even so, some kids wanted to draw more.  "Shauna?! when are you coming back?" ... Oh, how does one say, "Quite likely never"? (How can children who live in a 25 meter diameter world imagine the world in between Canada and here?) I tell them if I ever have a chance to be near here again, I'll visit them! ... and joke that, you know, it's a really long way by bike! but that I'll think of them often. And, you can expect to receive letters and drawings from your new friends in Norway!  On the boat, others are waiting for my Norwegian friend, me and a third fellow who was looking on. We thanked them for their patience, and explained what was going on....  

-- What's the use? --

About 10 minutes later, a woman (25-30?) asked me if I really think this will do anything. It will just die. They won't keep writing. It's just sad. Really, they need ...well, who am I to say what they need ... but really maybe the best thing is that tourists aren't here. But we are, and things have changed. It really saddens me. What kind of an education are they getting? How can they study when every ten minutes tourists are wandering through and they have to get up and sing, or talk with us... Connecting them with kids in another country does nothing. It won't last. Really they need, well, electricity, computers, and internet. Kids, when they have internet, explore. That will open the world to them. I just don't see...  

I say I can only speak from my experience. What I do know is the excitement I see and feel in the children when I share with them... and when they know they will have friends elsewhere. Perhaps they will, indeed, only exchange messages once. And that once will create a lasting bond, either large or small. Norway will no longer be someone who streamed by taking a photo and talking funny... it won't be just a name or a picture on a map.  

I don't tell her the number of schools I've visited where teachers are still hand-writing out in each children's notebook the arithmetic or social questions. Or using ink stamps to hand create the printed workbooks we're so familiar with -- cats and houses and kites and a thick black blank line below. Computers, eh?!  She doesn't feel what I can see burning through my Norwegian friend -- the excitement, the thrill, the connection. She doesn't feel the warmth shared by the embrace the teacher gave me as I left, nor the eager smiles of the children.  I say I don't know. Perhaps I've harmed. Or, perhaps, ... in some small way, I've made a difference. I hope I have. 

I know, personally, I am carrying a bond with this island that will be with me always.  

xo Shauna