Thursday, July 24, 2008

no more mr nice guy

I feel it is my duty to inform you I am not a martyr. Don’t be fooled by this volunteer project I am working on and don’t be fooled by my words of admiration, although heartfelt, for the children of Pumamarca.

Resemblance?

I do not, as a friend suggested in a comment a couple of blogs ago, have a heart of gold. My heart comprises gold, no doubt. I am capable of and often inclined to deliver kind, generous acts, especially towards those I love. But I know my heart also boasts a little silver, some bronze, probably some tulle, a bit of cellophane, a paddle pop stick or two and, I’ve got to say, there’s a touch of onyx in there too (onyx is black, in case you missed the point).

Here’s the thing. The decision to come to Cusco and work for Peru’s Challenge was one made with my own interests at heart. The fact a charity, and the gorgeous, struggling kids of Pumamarca would somehow benefit was a bonus. This was about me doing something out of my comfort zone and growing from it. It was about me gaining a new perspective. And, it’s no secret, it was about me running away from an unrecognisable and sometimes scary life at home.

Here’s the other thing. Having now been here three weeks, I am so ready to leave. The kids and going to school remains the highlight of my days. The few friends I have made have also made the experience a memorable one. But the cons are starting to come to the fore.

Like...

I dropped the c-bomb in the shower two days ago because, yet again, the hot water was AWOL. I never use that word.

I have been feeling sick for the last seven days, two of those were spent on a drip in hospital with nurses whose language I don’t speak. Note to self: learn how to ask “should you be sticking that syringe of weird stuff in my IV?” in Spanish.

I am scared of Peruvian food for fear of watching it come back up, again, and, as a result, I am feeling sick from starvation. How do you do it Mary Kate? How?

My dreams continue to be interrupted by barking dogs, whistle-blowing security guards and early-rising volunteers void of courtesy.

I am so, very over the tools in this volunteer group. There seems to be an unreasonable number of them and they’ve been getting worse as time has past. My intolerance for dickheads doesn’t help the cause.

See, it’s still me, mum. Anything in small doses, few things in big ones.

4 comments:

clare said...

Hey great photo. However the Peruvian sun has not been kind to you Kate Jacka.

Fiona said...

Camel shoes xx

jax said...

two of the very few people who know the true meaning behind the term. camel shoes back at you
xx

Mike said...

¿debería usted pegar aquella jeringuilla de la materia extraña en mi IV?

thats how you say "should you be sticking that syringe of weird stuff in my IV?"

ne tango pompas.

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