JULY 9, 2019 BY CASSANDRA JOHNSON
I don’t specifically include the name of the second Peruvian organization, where I volunteered. I do this by design. As I was writing a bit about this earlier, I don’t include it, because of some idiosyncrasies of the leadership. I want to be mindful. However, as I wholeheartedly support their mission and good intentions, I am happy to share details to get you there volunteering via email. cassandrajohnson@riskysafetravels.com.
The logo I had found, in literature and online, hovering over their wonderful mission statement to educate street children and other under-served children was exactly how the volunteer hostel appeared in real life. I had been making my way there since my challenging but magical time in Pisco, Peru, followed by my trip to Arequipa and my harrowing journey to Machu Picchu and other intriguing sites. This would be my last hostel experience in Cusco, and it was ironic because this put me back in a not-so-safe area. As I wrote earlier, I began my time in a different risky part of the city. I later moved to a centrally safe location and now was finding myself back in dangerous territory. This time was different. I felt safe, 90% of the time. I was in my element and there is safety in numbers. I was also distracted by my new volunteer mission and spending time with more like-minded travelers.
The only oddity was the invisible barrier between the long-time volunteers and us new ones. It is not to say they didn’t take their time with us, explaining their methods and preferences and even dining and dancing the night away with us. It was simply that there was an energy almost as if they were more evolved. Understandably, they were more indoctrinated into the organization and its… well…organization. Connections came in fleeting moments. Some momentary concern for our safety or a physical attraction (undeniable chemistry) between old and new. Game night and lunch fundraisers. This was all. Admittedly, this includes a lot, but the boundary remained. If they knew we were staying longer, certainly there would have been some more softening.
My first day, I was to meet with one of the Directors who would explain some methods, some ground rules. He was nice. British and Indian. We sat down in the office/media room in front of one of a few community computers. He talked about how I would work alongside other co-teachers, how each grade level was charmingly represented by a different fruit. Each week would have a theme (I found this so cute because I digress mentally to how each episode of Sesame Street had a revolving theme). Every element of instruction would connect back to the main ideas, whether this was during the classroom instruction, game time, physical recreation, or art. At the end of the week, each class would put on a show according to the theme, one which they had practiced with the teachers and the school would be especially opened to families and other visitors for a celebratory performance.
Typically, each day, the children would come together, leaving their respective classrooms, as one of the Directors gave a values-based lesson. Good ethics were endlessly reiterated, and the children were reminded to behave as nice, respectful members of the community in and outside the classroom.
So, it went. I would have my initiation into a place with energy that was welcoming but with a protected heart (I don’t think the Directors wanted to be too open to temporary bodies passing through). We were appreciated for our time, but the Founder especially made a point of reminding us how we were not central to the structure. So very different from the open arms in Pisco.
In Cusco, we were only a link in a chain, a link that extended a bit of a distance. We taught and played. Mostly, we shared a lot of work and a single objective to grow the gifts the many children already possessed.
The time spent was an absolute honor.
Cassandra Johnson Risky Safe Travels, LLC®
Photos by McKayla Crump on Unsplash
Image: OpenClipart-Vectors from Pixabay