Settling In, Taking Initiative

Hi everyone. I’ll be honest, my first week in Cuzco has been a vivid blur. I need to get better at keeping track of it in my journal. For now, hopefully this will suffice.

I feel like what my Spanish professor and I are doing in class, both day to day and more long-term, are helping me to quickly get over the remaining language barrier. It’s not that I don’t know Spanish, it’s just that I’m getting used to hearing and speaking it almost exclusively. Everyone with whom I’ve had more than a passing interaction has told me, “Poco a poco” (little by little). My biggest concern with the “poco a poco” approach is that I’ll end up stagnating or plateauing.

As far as my internship, I am finally laying proper claim to it. Antony really does want to help and to do the best he can, so I can’t be too frustrated with him–to be honest, I’m more frustrated that I didn’t specify his role when we met online. As I mentioned earlier, at first he was taking over my job. Last Thursday, I tried a fourth time to explain what I needed from him, and he seemed to get it a bit more, because for the first time I was much more involved with the kids who came to our table. The following Monday, however, I think we finally nailed it. As we were leaving the one-room school, I told Antony as specifically as I could what I thought–namely, that it just wan’t going to work with him in the room with me, no matter what we tried; the kids would still come to him, and he has a tendency to get sucked into things. He’s an excellent teacher, and he’s cool overall, but it just wasn’t going to work. He didn’t completely agree with me: He thought that what we were doing was working just fine, and he told me that the supervisor had in fact asked him to help me (again, not very specific). We agreed to talk to the supervisor the next day and work something out. With the exception of talking to the supervisor, we worked out a system where he would go into his own area and I would remain at our table, and he would help me if needed, but otherwise I was on my own, as I always should have been. It worked beautifully, as did the method Audrey, another intern, and I used to maintain the class’s attention–a certain rhythm we would clap out loudly and they would repeat until they were all silent. Audrey saved my game of Simon Says–I played it as a kid, so I thought that at least most of the kids would know what it was. She stepped in when we were a few rounds in and caught everyone else up. I am now much more excited for the afternoons when we go to the after-school program. Antony and I have finally arrived at a system that I believe is best, and Antony and I agreed to walk to and from school together until Friday and then assess, our goal being that I go there independently. I believe I’m there, but I want to be sure and take it easy. This makes me kind of sad because, apart from sometimes being micromanaged, I really enjoy Antony. He is a part of the young single adult group of my church, so hopefully we can develop an actual friendship that way, wherein the specifics of how to help me aren’t always so important. Despite said frustrations, I love and enjoy the students and the people with whom I work, and I am starting to feel truly fulfilled–poco a poco, of course. While I still want to earn a degree in teaching English literature and grammar, I’ve decided that I want to make teaching English as a second or other language part of my professional life as well.

As far as sightseeing and traveling, last week was full of outings, some of which overlapped with going to and from school. Last Monday, we all went to this local pizza place either in or near the Plaza de Armas and ordered a pizza with goat cheese on it. It was the best pizza I’ve had in a long time! Then some of us hung out with one of Astrid’s kids, Cadel, and watched The Exorcism of Emily Ross, which wasn’t even that scary and had one of my favorite endings–I’m beginning to not like Hallmark endings unless I can believe them. Another day we went to a play of “Rey Leon” in Spanish, and it was unforgettable! The next day Antony and I walked to and from school through a parade that ended up being a seven-hour one celebrating the virgin Mary. Antony told me that there were dancers in certain outfits that we could watch but not join, but later someone else told me that the same dancers were grabbing people off the streets and inviting them to join. I’ve always wanted to witness people dancing openly in the streets and to join them, so now I can say that half of that fantasy has been fulfilled. I might have been stupid and pulled out my phone as we were walking through crowds of people and dancers–apparently one risks losing their phone in such situations. Antony tried to tell me to let him take a video and that I was risking losing my phone, but it was hard to hear over the fanfare, and besides I was plain sick of being micromanaged. After we were clear of people and other clutter, I explained sighted guide and told him that that would be much more helpful if and when we walked through another parade together. He was cool with it, and he didn’t seem to be put off by me.

That same evening, we got together with everyone from Proyecto Peru and went downtown to play Laser Tag. I have never enjoyed a game of Laser Tag more–the music and the action were epic. Afterwards we went to a restaurant and got tacos. They were delicious. Then the group of us from SUU, along with a few others, went to a salsa night club, where someone tried to teach salsa moves in English. We all made it a point to go every week so we could be legit when we returned home. One of the students with Proyecto Peru, a kid from France named Samir, was happy to try and include me in the dances. It was great, and I appreciate him for it, but I really prefer dancing with a girl over a guy.

Another day, we took a roundabout route to Mercado San Pedro, which is right across the street from where we live. The market was my favorite part of the whole walk. It’s an outdoor market with tables, stalls, and a canopy–I’m not sure if everything is under one canopy or not. For some reason I ended up accidentally feeling the canopy, and for this reason this market will be forever etched in my memory. In the West we have markets that consist of brick and mortar, stone, windows, concrete and/or carpet floors, and other more sterile things; here, you had wares laid out on tables and in stalls, vendors calling them out, and a simple canopy, probably sewn by hand. And of course the ever-present music. And then the randomness of some kids running around dribbling a basketball. All more up close, more real. I swear I’m telling from the senses, not the imagination.

And there were also dogs–always the dogs. The only issue I’ve had with them so far was stepping right into fresh dog poop and then having to walk into the house barefoot so we could wash my shoes. I’m hoping I can avoid it in the future by constantly sweeping, not tapping, the ground with my cane.

Another fantasy realized–that is, in visiting Mercado San Pedro.

On Saturday while my friends did further sightseeing, I visited a blindness organization headquartered in a building that served as school and a central meeting place for the Unión de Ciegos de la Región Inca to conduct business. Taking a taxi there was a relatively simple yet magical endeavor. I had always envisioned as part of being in Latin America traveling by bus or by taxi and imagined what I had been told–that music is an integral part of those things. Riding in the back with the windows down so that we were privy to both the radio and the outside world, I felt like a child in a candy store. Another fantasy realized.

In the morning there was a meeting for all the young adults who showed up, after which we hung out and had a jam session courtesy of one kid who had brought his guitar. We swapped songs from out cultures, some familiar and some not. For lunch, I walked around the corner to a restaurant whose name I never learned with the president of the organization, Fredy, and a friend of mine I had met online who had invited me there, Litzi. We had minestrone soup and Milanesa con pollo–the pollo was chicken nuggets, and the meat in the soup was alpaca meat with lots of bones. We talked over lunch about what I was doing, and Fredy took interest nd said, “I think I could be of help to you. Why don’t we have some orientation and mobility every Sunday afternoon, and I can help you solidify your route to school and work?” Since this had been what I had been looking for to begin with–a teacher more than a guide–I took him up on it. I had my initial judgments–from my observations, it seemed that I had more confidence in negotiating uneven sidewalks, street furniture, and other obstacles than they did, but I also knew I had more to learn, so I decided to suspend judgment for now.

I was invited to attend the afternoon meeting, which was for everyone who did business in the streets, at various kiosks. As in the morning meeting, in this meeting I was introduced as the visitor from the United States, and then I was aware how much I stood out–I was the tallest person in the room, and my skin was most likely the fairest. I really appreciated it when, in his introduction of me, Fredy noted that while I was a foreigner, I had the same unique things in common with everyone else–namely, a lack of vision. Both times after I was introduced, everyone took great interest in me; they wanted to know who I was and what I was about. They asked if I belonged to any blindness organization. I said I was part of the National Federation of the Blind, and they seemed a bit surprised when I told them that it encompasses all of the United States.

After the meeting ended, I hung out with Litzi and some of her friends and was surprised when I struggled and failed to get an Uber. Even my experiences with Uber in Cedar City were more reliable than here. I ended up taking a taxi, courtesy of Fredy. We talked about the blind soccer the other young adults had invited me to play with them at some fields on Sundays and about our walking around on Sunday afternoons. I thanked him, and we parted ways.

On Sunday, my friends told me about where they had been, and we decided that they would take me to retrace their steps some time this week. In the meantime, we took a walk through the Plaza de Armas and saw the Twelve-angle Stone, a stone the Incas had sculpted to fit in with the rest of the stones that constituted the wall with no mortar whatsoever. I wonder if we’ve learned how to replicate such architecture yet.

As far as traveling around this week, it has been more relaxed, as we now have homework and I am tired a lot. We do intend to go on more adventures soon, and I will have pictures of those to post next time. In addition, the pictures for this one will come later, because I’ve still got to figure out how to post them in a way that makes sense. Hasta luego.

Going with the Flow

So here I am in Cuzco, and I am loving it. I also loved getting there.

The fun really started not long after I got to Los Angeles. When my turn came to check into the flight to Lima, I was told that the flight had been canceled due to maintenance issues and that those of us who were scheduled for that flight would get a hotel and meal vouchers. We were promptly shuttled there, where I settled in for the night. I made an acquaintance over dinner. She asked in heavily accented English if she could share my table. We talked about where we were giong. She and I were on the same flight to Lima; from there she was headed back home to Arequipa. The part that confused me was when she said she is a traveling waitress for a living. I have never heard of such a thing before, unless I misunderstood and she has a side job that allows her to travel around.

The next morning, after I was sure I had lost some important possessions, I resignedly checked into the airport and prepared to fly out to Lima–it was finally ago. California was a good transition for me from the English-speaking world to the Spanish-speaking one. In my case, flying with LatAm meant that a lot of other passengers spoke Spanish. I know this will sound completely cliche, but the moment of takeoff from LA was precisely one of many related scenarios that had dominated my imagination for so many years. Consequently I was so excited that I wanted to laugh and scream it to the world–of course I didn’t, but I don’t remember the last time I felt closer to acting out like that. No turning back now! The only thing that sucked was that we had to stay in Airplane Mode the whole time, so I couldn’t track where we were going. I also don’t remember having fancier meal accommodations on a plane. For lunch, the stewardesses laid tablecloths on our folding trays and gave us pasta with bread, fruit, and dessert if we wanted it; for dinner it was the tablecloth again, complete with a sandwich and some fruity dessert.

Landing in Lima was the first of many instances I have had and I’m sure I will yet have in which I realized that I am in fact in Peru, out of the United States. When I first stepped out into the airport, really the only unique thing about it–and it wasn’t that unique compared to where I had been–was that the majority of people spoke Spanish (I much prefer Cuzco Spanish to Lima Spanish; I had to ask for clarification in the Lima airport so many times). One thing that made my day is that the customs officials spoke to me in Spanish–I never wanted to enter a Spanish-speaking country speaking English. The whole process was quick and straightforward. The unmistakeable sound of stamps was music to my ears, another definite confirmation of all I had wanted for so long. I was officially in! Again, I successfully masked my state of ecstasy with composure. I am a grown man, I promise.

Right after they stamped me in, I asked them, “What if I want to stay longer than ninety days?” By their responses, it seemed to me that I had come across as trying to change my mind. I’m still not quite sure what I have to do if I decide to stay a week longer; the overstaying fine isn’t much at all, but I don’t want to do that.

Next followed the unnecessarily complicated process of finding a place to sleep for the night and checking my luggage in. All I needed was assistance to the place to check my luggage through customs–this was all fine–as well as to check my luggage in for the early-morning flight to Cuzco and to check myself into a hotel. The assistance that I got kept trying to put me in a wheelchair, and at one point I started to comply just to get the hastle over with. I immediately realized how pathetic I felt in a wheelchair and how ridiculous the whole proposal was, hastle or not, so I proposed putting my things in the wheelchair. The guy helping me said he would be back–he needed to figure out how he could help me if I didn’t want the wheelchair. An hour later, I finally got the help I needed, and I found a place to hang out in the airport until the wee hours of the morning.

Exhilarated, I elected to explore the airport. This proved a bit tricky, only because of the language barrier. I am confident in Spanish, but I’m just not used to nothing but Spanish yet, so telling people what help I did and did not need was a bit frustrating. Linguistically, I’m getting my feet under me in that sense; now I’ve just got to figure out how to go about it in a culture like this.

Eventually, low on energy and batteries, the time came to board the flight to Cuzco. An hour after I boarded, we were off. I finally got a little description of what was around us when, as we were preparing to land, the pilot said, “Those on the left side of the aircraft, you can appreciate the snowcapped mountains in the distance.” It wasn’t much at all, but it was something.

In Cuzco, I had the smoothest exit from a plane that I had had all trip. I collected my luggage and met Astrid, one of the members of the host family, and the guy that Proyecto Perú requested to help me. He drove us around Cuzco, to the places where I would go, and then to the house. Upon first stepping outside of the airport, I was struck by how quiet it was. Cuzco has a population of over a hundred thousand; in such cities in the United States, it would be much noisier. While there was the sound of traffic and people walking around, it was much quieter than in the United States. People drive slower here, too, and not as chaotically as I’ve heard. Maybe that’s more a thing in other cities.

I also noticed the smell of a certain kind of gasoline. In urban America I might smell several kinds; here I have smelled one or two kinds.

I also noticed the sun. It struck me as bright and warm for 6:00 in the morning. Cuzco is cold, and if I had thought more ahead of myself in Lima, I would have found a bathroom and replaced my shorts with pants (the host family said they couldn’t believe I was in shorts and a short-sleeve T-shirt). So far, with advice from Astrid, I have been able to survive the cold quite well. During the afternoons, it almost feels like summer or late spring–hot enough to make one think that the temperature won’t plunge in the evenings like it does.

At home, Antony showed me around Astrid’s home–he had probably been shown around himself. Then Astrid made me breakfast, which this morning consisted of bread and a kind of matte. One thing I love about Astrid is that she is always seeking to find the balance between doing things for me and either showing me how to do them or letting me do them. So far, it has been easy to tell when she’s comfortable to let me do something in or around her house.

After that I unpacked and rested. I was exhausted. For lunch I met the first of three other classmates from SUU to join me, Hannah Roberts. We had beef and rice with carrots and some really hard objects I imagine were bones or something. The meat was good, but it was cooked differently, or at least it tasted differently than I was used to. It was a bit more rubbery, too–not a lot at all, but just enough to notice.

After lunch Hannah; Astrid; Astrid’s son, Cadel; and Astrid’s mother, also named Astrid, and I sat on the porch and talked. One by one everyone left either to take a rest or do something else. I love this family and the place we live. Astrid and her family live in a main building, and the four of us live in separate little rooms. I like to leave my door open to the world, which works out because there is a group of flies that hang around, but for some reason they like to keep to themselves. It’s crazy how quiet it is here. There are noises, but the traffic is absent, probably because we’re in an apartment-style setup set apart from the street.

Today was our first day of Spanish lessons and teaching, with orientation in between. I was so excited to walk to school and then to work. And the city did not disappoint. In the patio that serves as a walkway for everyone whose houses are in it, there is the narrowest street I have ever seen in my life–it’s probably a little wider than my two feet together. No wonder it’s only for pedestrians and cyclists. I’m going to have to get used to the idea of a street being more than just a place where automobiles go up and down. Throughout the course of the day, Antony I’m glad there is more than just work and school; Proyecto Perú has activities every Thursday evening. This Thursday they are making this cocktail called pisco sour. I think I’ll pass. My professor is awesome. She and I both enjoy literature, and she and I figured out how I can improve my comprehension, which has always kind of lacked.

After lunch, Antony and I went to the after-school program. Much of the time I tried to be a part of what was going on around me, but Antony, still unsure of what I can and cannot do, was quite in charge, and I was on the periphery. Because it was my first day, I didn’t have a lesson plan because I didn’t know what to plan for; hence I had an impromptu lesson on the English words for animals. It was decent, but because it wasn’t thought out more I lost a lot of attention toward the end. On the way home, Antony asked what I thought about this afternoon. I did my best to tell him what I thought. I also told him that I appreciated him but that I needed a little more space. I told him, too, that I wanted him to tell me if I was coming across as rude or anything like that. Antony was awesome. He said, “You just tell me what you do and don’t need. You don’t offend me. It’s all good.”

I called this post “Going with the Flow” because that was largely what I did. I am in a place that is rather different than anything I have known, and I want to take it all in and learn about it and appreciate it as much as I can and try to put it above my own way of doing things. That doesn’t mean I will rely completely on others all the time; it just means that, for now, I have tried to put aside some things that make sense to me and figure out what makes sense to others–and it’s paying off so far.

Since I am publishing this a while after the fact and a lot has happened, there’s already a lot more to write about, and I hope to have some pictures. For now, I have one that I will dearly cherish that represents one of the things I love about teaching and why I am more seriously considering deviating to doing something pedagogical with children. For now, here you have them, my first days in Peru. Thanks for reading, and I will catch you shortly.

Introduction

Hello everyone. I am excited to be sharing with you something that is very important to me—traveling and immersion in another language and culture. I wish there were a better way I could have introduced that, but it will take far more than even the most descriptive sentence or paragraph to share what it really means to me, and that will certainly change and evolve over the course of said space. In that case, let’s start at the beginning.

I am Matthew Robinson, and I am currently studying English education and Spanish at Southern Utah University; I will graduate with a bachelor degree in both in 2024. Because I enjoy a lot of things, it might be best to generalize and say that I enjoy being active, being outside, listening to and creating music, learning and conversing with people in other languages, and reading. While I enjoy various genres, my favorite genre is travel literature (I will say more about that later). From my internship and immersion in Peru, I intend to realize my passions for travel and incorporate this more prominently into my life, along with practices that will support my professional endeavors as an educator not only in English as it is encapsulated in “language arts,” but in English as a second or other language and in other languages in general.

While I have looked forward, sometimes with great anticipation, to many things, at this point I have no words to convey the meaning for me of my pending travels to Peru to work, learn, live, and explore. I will fly to Cuzco at the end of next week, where I will live with a family, (it would be nice if I could live with the same family as my other classmates, as has been the case in past groups). Throughout the week we will attend a language school in the mornings, where we will improve our Spanish; and in the afternoons we will work as interns at various sites around and possibly outside the city. I will be working in an after-school program, where we will do many things with children and youth, from classroom activities and lessons to field trips. The weekends are ours with which we may do whatever we want. This program will last three months, after which we are free to stay or go home. I am wide open for any reason to prolong my stay a week or so, but we’ll see what happens.

While I am thrilled to be sharing this blog with you, I am admittedly a bit anxious as well because this is my first time committing to broadcast myself so directly to the masses on a consistent basis. (I have shared writings of mine with people before, but it was newspaper articles or essays or some other creative work. I think it will get easier once I have experiences that will dilute the me factor. To that end, I want to note that I’m not writing about my upcoming time in Peru because anything I’m doing is inherently more special or important than what my classmates or other people are doing; it’s just a big deal to me, and I love sharing things like that.

It has been my dream for many years to live and to be immersed in a Spanish-speaking country, and one in the Western Hemisphere at that. I have strived to make this particular endeavor a reality for years, and now that it is practically here, I honestly don’t completely know what to do with it all mentally. As one who has worked so hard to be able to live and enjoy life as independently as my sighted counterparts, one of my biggest anxieties is adjusting to a culture which may not view independence or blindness quite the same as do Westerners, both professionally and out in public. I am grateful that the program, Intern Abroad, has taken me on when others have simply said no. They have insisted that I have a personal assistant. While this isn’t my ideal, I am willing to work with their requirement, and I am optimistic that we can create a positive and productive situation for everyone involved. I have learned from other disabled travelers that their ideal situation cannot always be realized, although I believe mine can be.

With all that being said, I want to thank everyone who has helped to make this possible. I want to thank Carmen Alldredge, director of the Disability Resource Center at SUU, for being an inval’uable resource and helping me to advocate for what I will and will not need. I also want to thank my Spanish professor, who will accompany us, for likewise being in my corner, as well as for her enthusiastic support in general—and, as a side note, for introducing me to Latin American literature. Finally, I want to thank my parents, other family, and friends who have helped me to get here, from advice and encouragement to logistics and everything in between, sometimes at personal cost. I also appreciate Intern Abroad for their willingness to consider me and their support.

I next want to bring up some things related to this blog. If this post has been published fairly recently, you’re likely interacting with a rather basic page. While I may add some links and/or menus to it, let me know if there’s something more you want to see in layout, content, etc.

Finally, I want to throw out some quotes I like that start to epitomize what this whole thing is for me.

“One’s mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions”. — Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.

“Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering”. — Saint Augustine

“… How difficult it is to break with set routines, even when we want to, and join life’s parade passing just outside the door. The job, the mortgage, and a dozen other considerations mute to the big drum, and only rarely does the trumpet call prove irresistible.” — George Meegan, from The Longest Walk

“We’ve only just begun

Hypnotized by drums

Until forever comes

You’ll find us chasing the sun—

They said this day wouldn’t come

We refuse to run

We’ve only just begun

You’ll find us chasing the sun.” — The Wanted, “Chasing the Sun”

Thanks for reading. I am so excited to share this adventure with you! Catch me in approximately two weeks in Cuzco.