Day 6: Huancayo and a notebook-hunt

I'd set my alarm for half 7 this morning, but found myself wide awake at about 6.45. I certainly never wake this early at home! I felt a bit grimy from the car journey yesterday, so I thought I'd have a shower. Hilda showed me where it was and how to use it, so I had a nice shower (apart from when I twice got large static shocks from the tap). Then I wrapped myself in my towels, put on my sandals, opened the door - and there sat a dog and six cats, staring up at me, while I was dripping wet and wrapped just in a towel. We blinked at each other, then I walked fairly awkwardly to my room while they continued to sit, watching me. That was slightly odd...

After a breakfast of bread and milk, Hilda showed me where the nearby internet cafe was, so I stayed there a while phoning Mum and checking my emails. Then Hilda showed me how to use the washing machine, and soon my clothes were clean and hanging on the line. Unfortunately it's not terribly sunny here - it's very cloudy, so the sun and rain come and go - but since it's very dry, the clothes were done quite soon.

Juliana picked me up at half ten, and we went to the office first to drop off the other donations I'd brought with me - there hadn't been enough room in my rucksack yesterday to bring them all! We went to the nearby orphanage first - there I met the program coordinator, Gonzalez, since the director was away. He seems very friendly, the plan is that Juliana'll bring me here on Monday and we'll take it from there. The orphanage is for boys aged 10-18 - I met a 16 year old who's very talented at painted, and very courteous - and as long as the director isn't there, I should be able to stay. When I asked why, Gonzalez explained that the director is very strict with volunteers, making sure that they work for no less than a month (I'll only be here 24 days more), and that they first have blood tests (and apparently medical exams of mental health, said Juliana? I wonder if I mistranslated, though) to make sure that they don't bring in contagious diseases. While I don't object to a blood test (though I find it a little odd), it's more the being here for less than a month thing. Still, we'll see how things go on Monday.

After that, I went with Juliana to the centre of town to buy notebooks - she explained that a new school for streetchildren has been set up, however the children can't afford to buy their own equipment - she went on to say that it's not uncommon here for families to have ten or more children, and while there's just about enough for food, money for uniforms and books and pencils and travel to the school (some children have to come in from different parts of town) is a luxury. So we browsed, but didn't decide on any just yet - Juliana wanted to buy each child at least one notebook, but that would've come to about 400 soles in most of the shops we went into, so we're continuing to browse.

I went back to Hilda's for a lunch of soup and corn, followed by Papas Huancaina (potatoes in a yellow sauce - Hilda later said that it was made from yellow peppers), then some jelly. I could barely eat half of each plate - this happened to me last time I was here, Mum reckoned that it's probably the effects of the altitude and the new food when I spoke to her. Yesy came home for lunch too - there we talked about London, about university, about her job as a blood analysist in a lab. She could only stay half an hour, since she needed to return to work, which was 15 minutes away.

I spent the first part of the afternoon reading, then Juliana picked me up and we continued notebook-browsing in town. It felt quite strange, walking through the town, recognising bits and pieces of it and finding that I could remember where certain places where. It's quite dry (apart from a few puddles when it rains, and even those dry up quickly), but still fairly warm - the barometer in the Plaza de Armas (town square) said that it was about 23C when we passed it, which felt about right. The people here are a mix - there're beggars on the street, there're those who play instruments or sell biscuits in the street for money, there're those dressed in stereotypical clothing (women with plaits and hats, and shawls of traditionally patterned wool), there're those dressed in typical shop-bought clothes who carry their babies in patterned shawls on their backs, and there're those dressed like me. Many of the people in Huancayo are quite dark, and there's quite a range - I'm very very pale in comparison, but I've seen a few people who look just a tiny bit darker than me, and there're plenty in between. One glance at me and one could tell that I'm not from here - I might just be able to pass for someone from Lima, where there're more pale people, until I speak. A couple of people asked me where I was from, I always say Miami. My aunt suggested this to me on one of my earliest trips to Peru: for Peruvian people to move to Miami and live their lives there, isn't too uncommon a thing. To go to Europe, furthermore to England, shows that the family is very very rich. To come from England back to Peru, denotes even more wealth, and those with wealth are the best to rob. I don't particularly want to be robbed, hence I say I'm from Miami (when I was younger, I was taught to stay silent in Peruvian taxis and buses for the same reason). As for sometimes giving a different name when I talk to people I meet briefly on my travels, I find it quite fun to come up with a new story about myself. I sometimes do this while at home, too - if someone talks to me on the bus then I'll change my name and a few things about myself (I remember once 'being' Carla from Wimbledon studying sociology). I think it's quite fun. I'm digressing here.

Juliana and I took the bus back to the office (we sat opposite a 3 year old playing with pieces of wool, talking to herself and looking up at us as if for confirmation of what she'd said every now and then - she was absolutely adorable), then she went to work at the radio station (she has a talk show every evening) while I went to an internet cafe and skyped. When I'd finished, I tried to enter the volunteer residence - Juliana had given me the key earlier - but couldn't get it in. Odd. I wandered about a bit and drifted into another internet cafe (there're very many of them here - from the house I'm in to the volunteer house, which is a twenty minute walk, I got as far as about 20 before losing count) until Juliana got back. She then told me that it's a fairly stiff lock, and I had to really push the key in to get it in the lock. Eventually I got the hang of it, and we went inside.

Oscar, the volunteer from Sheffield, was there - he and the other volunteers were going to the cinema that evening, would I like to go? After a quick call to Hilda, the plan was set - we'd wait until Sasha got back to her house and pick her up, then meet Sonia at the cinema. So Oscar and I watched House for a bit (boxsets are incredibly cheap here), then went to the house where Sasha's staying to collect her. She's in the same house I was in last time, I'll stop by another day to see the family. When we got to the cinema, I met Sonia for the first time - she's from Cornwall and lives in the 'new' residence - and we also met up with Miguel, a cousin of the family I was with last time, who I'd met briefly before. It was nice to catch up with him, and he told me about what the rest of the family were up to.

After some discussion over film (Sasha and Sonia don't speak much Spanish, so they wanted something that wasn't dubbed), we went for 127 Hours - for 9 soles each, we thought that this was really good. The popcorn and drinks, at 6.50 each (we each had Inka Kola, and shared a giant bucket between the five of us), cost almost as much as the film did! So we settled down to watch the film. Sasha and I are squeamish, and spent quite a bit of the film covering our eyes. By then end, I have to say that it was a good film, but I was still a bit shaken. We got a taxi back afterwards - we dropped off Miguel and Sasha first, then I was dropped off before Oscar and Sonia went back. It was about 11.15pm by this time - Hilda was waiting for me, which was lovely, so we talked a tiny bit and then went to bed.

There, in the dark with just my thoughts and still a bit shaken from the film, I started feeling a bit homesick. What was I doing, alone in this country, away from much of what I know and love? Then, I reasoned, I am safe here: there're Juliana and Hilda watching over me in Huancayo, and I have my grandparents and uncles and aunts in Lima. And I can send an email or phone call back home pretty much when I like. And there was nothing stopping me from going back to Lima, or indeed to London if I wanted to - but I didn't want to. I wanted to stay here, and see the children, and be 'Miss Catty' to them. I didn't want to go home just yet. I still felt a little anxious, so I tried to settle down to sleep, knowing that I'd feel much better in the morning.