Diego was the first one up in the morning to say goodbye to me. Of the whole family, he was the one who wanted to learn the most about Canada and was definitely the saddest to see me go. Soon after, Susy woke up and we headed off to the Ormeño bus station to begin my trip down to Pisco.
The plan was simple; I go to the counter, show my passport and get my ticket (which Awaiting Angles purchased for me in Cusco) and board the bus. We called the day before to make sure that is all they needed to happen. When we got to the bus station their story had changed. It appeared that the ticket had already been printed in Cusco and therefore they couldn't provide me with my ticket, even though they did agree that I was indeed the David McCurdy that the ticket had been purchased for - interesting that I would have this problem after the $60 incident. Since they didn't have a phone in the station, Susy insisted that she go call the Cusco office of Awaiting Angles to sort everything out. 45 minutes later, Susy was unable to raise the Cusco office, not even on the 24 hour emergency line. So in the end, I had to buy a second ticket to Pisco.
The ride down had to be the best bus ride so far. Even though it took me through some of the Peruvian desert, a type of landscape that I had never seen before, it was the bus itself that I liked. After sitting in so many cramped busses in Ecuador, it was quite the luxury to be able to stretch my legs out in a chair that offered me more leg room ant I could ever use. On top of that it was air conditioned and they served me breakfast ... what else could I have asked for?
The arrival in Pisco was very simple. Haydee (the mother of the family with whom I was to live) met me at the bus station and in no time at all she took me to the volunteer house, dropped off my bags and whisked me off to the place where I was to volunteer. By 12:30 I had seen the town and knew how to reach my project. All I had to do now was wait until Monday when my project would start.
In the meantime I was able to have two low key days in Pisco, mostly around the volunteer house. On Saturday night, we did go out for an evening on the town. There was a lecture from Haydee about safety concerns surrounding dancing with the women in Pisco (some might be married with jealous husbands) and to make sure we didn't walk around alone .... Pisco isn't a very safe town at night. The one thing I did find out was that bars don't close in Pisco, so when you go out, you're out until six in the morning ... not exactly my kind of fun, specially when the music is so loud that you can't talk, let alone in another language.
Because of my rather late night I was forced to sleep most of the day away in Pisco on Sunday. For lunch on Sunday I managed to try the local culinary delights; Pisco Sour and Ceviche. Pisco sour is a drink made from a local wine and is enjoyed throughout Peru ... sour but very, very good. Ceviche on the other hand is a raw fish marinated in lime juice and other spices enjoyed along the coast of Peru. Both are incredibly delicious.
I started the first of my three different construction projects on Monday. This first project was helping rebuild the local high school, just down the street from Haydee's house. Even though it wasn't completely destroyed by the earthquake, it had been condemned. In the interim, a temporary school had been built for the students.
Contrary to what I was expecting, in my volunteer work, this was a full on construction site that required hard hats and steel toe boots. It also consisted of over 60 construction workers working on three separate buildings. All the funding for this was coming directly from the Peruvian government. As I quickly found out, this worksite was not prepared for volunteers. My work at this project consisted of cleaning the molds for various cement structures required to build the school. So, for 8 hours a day I sat hunched over scraping cement off one wooden mold after another singing whatever song came in my head ... usually I only knew the chorus so it got rather repetitive.
Even though I didn't feel that my presence was helping very much, the workmen did appreciate my help and continued to come over and chat with me along with offering me a cold drink. From my understanding, the construction workers didn't want to over exert the gringo, nor did they have the resources to train me to do another job. Because of this I spoke to Haydee about another project where they might benefit more from my help and where they could train me to do other things.
So, on Wednesday morning, Haydee walked along the street looking for some people who needed my help (this is how she found all the volunteer projects). We finally came upon a house across the street from the school where I previously worked, where the construction crew could use some help. So, over the next two days I worked with Julian, Raul and Pepe to help build a house for a needy family. They taught me how to lay bricks (known as "king kong" bricks, because even King Kong couldn't knock them down, and if he can't neither can any earthquake), mix cement and gave me some hard work fit for a Canadian.
It turned out that this crew, like most of the construction workers here in Pisco, were not from Pisco. This crew was from Lima and when a friend asked Julian to come down to help, he moved to Pisco with his crew for a year to help build houses. Since the earthquake there has been a construction boom which had to be filled by people from all over Peru, most notably from the jungle.
The next two days I wasn't allowed to do anything as I was having some slight digestion problems. Haydee, who is overly protective of the volunteers, insisted the problem was worse than I let on and felt that I shouldn't work or do anything that might harm me, or upset my stomach. So for two days I was under house arrest and sat around the volunteer house, reading and watching soccer on TV.
It wasn't until Monday that I was allowed to go back to work, and at that time Glenn (the other volunteer) had finished his previous construction job. When we arrived at our project, they informed us that the construction crew went home to Lima for the weekend and wouldn't be back until Tuesday. So, Glenn and I headed back to Haydee's house to help build two modules in her back yard. These modules were temporary homes for people to live in after the earthquake. The construction of these was the same as Glenn's previous construction project. When fully completed these 10x20 foot wooden structures would house a family and all their belongings until such time that they could afford to build a house of their own. Costing around 600 soles (about $250 CDN) they were not distributed to those who needed them most, but to those who could afford them. This is how Haydee, who's house remained completely intact after the earthquake, managed to get two of them. Her plan was to move out of her house into the modules so that the house would be completely free for the volunteers to live in.
On Tuesday we headed back to work on the new house once again only to find out they didn't need our help anymore. So off I went again with Haydee in the led looking for another house that could use our help. We didn't have to look far before we met Gloria who felt the construction crew on her house could use some assistance.
The house at my third project wasn't that far along in the reconstruction process. The main part of the house faired quite well through the earthquake, but the part we were rebuilding was made of adobe bricks (dried compressed earth ... very fragile) and thus completely collapsed. When Glenn and I arrived, only a part of the foundation had been constructed. So needless to say, Glenn and I helped dig a foundation and pour the cement for the first couple of days. Mystro and his co-workers kept picking on Glenn and me saying Glenn, who only knew how to work at full speed, was a machine, and I had the "Force of the Bear" because nothing was too heavy for me.
Sadly, after three days, we ran out of cement and in true South American style, it would be delivered tomorrow, we thought. The Mystro tried to find work for Glenn and me to do, but with not much luck. So we hung around the construction site until mid afternoon when we took off to explore the town.
As you can very well imagine, the town of Pisco was in dire straits. The earthquake of August (according to a US report) measured 8.9 on the Richter scale, and destroyed about 90% of the city. (The official measure of the earthquake is 7.5, but some people believe the government recorded it lower because the law says they have to pay for the entire reconstruction if it is over 8.0). As you walk down the road you are able to see what look like open lots that, 8 months ago, were city blocks filled with houses. Most of the rubble has been moved away and these empty lots are now large refuge camps. The houses that people now live in are, if you're lucky, modules that you either bought or were supplied by the Turkish government. The next step down would be a tent donated to the relief effort. But for the most part, people lived in whatever kind of shelter they can slap together. Common materials were bamboo, plastic tarps, palm leaf mats and scraps of wood. The entire town had been turned into a large refugee camp. To me the most interesting shelters were the churches. One was completely gone, except for the towers on either side of the door, and during church services they would put up a tent with the altar permanently outside (it was strange to see it standing alone in the rubble). The other church was built from the same material as the refugee camps.
Within these shacks would be one's whole life. Your family would live, sleep, shower, cook and use the washroom in it. It would also contain all the personal affects you were able to salvage from your home. Luckily, being a desert, it never rained so you didn't have to worry about making sure your stuff was protected from the rain. Unlucky for them, because it was a desert, everything was constantly dirty. A fine sand constantly covered everything they own and there was nothing you can do about it.
Hygiene was another problem. Because there was no running water or water removal system, everything had to be shared. Each camp had a communal water source and a latrine, but for the most part the area was not hygienic. There were flies everywhere and garbage was just put in a pile beside the road. Every now and then someone would either take it away or burn it.
The earthquake also took it's toile on the economic system in town. The main shopping strip in town now consists of small stalls and tables where people used to have their shops. Those business and hotels which had money have been rebuilt, but they stand around open lots where tourists don't particularly want to visit. The ones who don't have money are forced to either take out a loan to rebuild or go under. With all that said, I was pleasantly surprised by how much it had improved.
The aid the town had received has come from the most interesting places. The fastest (and most) aid came from Turkey, of all places. They provided clothes, shelter and financial aid directly to the people. Cuba has provided vast amounts of medical help and focused its aid on the hospital (which still consists mostly of tents). Other countries sent their donations to the government of Peru which has not been the most affective at distributing it (you can get help from the government if you can show you own the land but most people rent). The Peruvian Government, according to one person, has gone so far as to declare Pisco competely rebuilt, but from what I can tell, it has a long way to go. People were incredibly gracious that Glenn and I would come to help out, but one lady hit the main issue on the nail when she asked me to get any rich people I knew in Canada to send money. The main thing that can help the people now is money, fairly distributed to where it is needed most.
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