Picture by Chris Scott

The deadline is here – today is the day of the kids digital story screening. With the narratives finalized, photos taken and sound effects recorded, it is now time to put it all together. We (my fellow volunteers and I) have been busy putting on the finishing touches while taking frequent breaks to warm up by the fire (it’s surprisingly hard to type with blocks of ice for hands).

While sorting through the photos the kids have taken, I am surprised by what they have achieved in such a short amount of time. Apart from the many technical aspects they have picked up and demonstrated, they have managed to capture a huge amount of emotion and depth in every frame. The speed in which they have learned these techniques, and the quality of the pictures they have taken, has shown me how powerful imagery can be when communicating across language barriers. Considering my limited Spanish skills, I found this particularly enlightening.

Some pictures created by the students:

Picture by Johan Anthony Quispe

Picture by Ryker Labbee

Many times throughout this experience I found myself looking (unsuccessfully) for the right Spanish words to get my point across. I depended heavily on exaggerated gestures and a lot of demonstrations to communicate.

If all else failed, the kids and I turned to the universal language of football. This turned out to be pure comedy to the kids as I was terribly unfit. I still maintain it was the altitude’s effect on my respiratory system, and they just laughed as they danced around me like fireflies.

We finished the videos in the nick of time and everything was ready for the screening. There was a large turnout of pupils, parents and teachers who were all very eager to see what we’d been up to. The kids proudly presented their pieces to the audience who warmly received them. Even the kids that had been quiet and shy throughout the workshops said their bit, clearly and eloquently.

More pictures from the students:

Picture by Sally Sefami

Picture by Nathaly Rebeca Cacer

Picture by Karen Doolittle

It was a great night which quickly became very sad when we realized it had all come to an end. But with regards to Bridges to Understanding, this is just the beginning. Now the school is up and running making digital stories, they have access to all other schools around the world, and hopefully, the discourse will go from strength to strength.

On the last night (very, very late), I found myself racing through the streets of Lima. I have minutes to make my flight home and the traffic conditions are the usual chaotic sprawl of weaving cars and blaring horns. As I gaze out the taxi window, it feels like just yesterday that I landed in Peru. I can’t believe how quickly it has all gone. However, if you think about all the people that I met and everything we have achieved through Bridges, if feels a lot more tenable.

Suddenly I am thrust back into reality and literally into the airport check-in desk. Before I knew it I was running to catch my flight and on the plane headed home…

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Photo by Chris Scott

It’s 4 AM, humid and dark in the town of Aguas Calientes at the foot of Machu Picchu, the hidden city of the Incas. The small town is nested in the narrow, cloudy forest valley for the sole purpose of tourism for Machu Picchu, which gives it an odd, unreal quality for a town.

We took a train to get here that hugged the Urubamba River until we were surrounded on all sides by towering mountains. It’s very claustrophobic being enclosed like this and I’m excited to escape in the only direction we can go – up.

We take a bus up the mountain, zig-zagging extremely close to the unguarded edge and a perilous plunge. It’s still very early and my half closed eyes allow me to ignore the obvious danger.

Photo by Chris Scott

The sun has not climbed high enough to peek over the surrounding peaks but the sky is lightening and I catch my first glimpse of Machu Picchu. It is everything the books and stories promised. A city on top of the world, beautifully reconstructed and awe-inspiring with respect to it’s conception. To think such architectural, astronomical and agricultural feats were accomplished in the first place is incredible but when you marvel at the location, it is truly wonderful.

Photo by Chris Scott

When the sun finally rises over the mountain, it is a dramatic moment. You can understand why the Incas worshipped the sun and based much of their religion and life around its movements. It’s stunning to see the first rays illuminate the high peaks of Machu Piccu and then slowly rise to reveal the remaining ruins.

There have been many photographs of Machu Picchu over the years, and I wasn’t going to be the only one not to take the ubiquitous shot of the ruins and the peak of Wayna Picchu looming in the background. It was then that I heard you could climb this mountain. It looked impossible, but at closer inspection the Incas had built steep winding steps and paths winding their way up the rock. The climb was strenuous and dangerous at point. Most paths were on the very edge of a thousand foot drops. The lack of barriers and lack of legal protection in case of an injury, caused me to climb very slowly.

Photo by Chris Scott

We realized the actual danger of the climb when we came across a lucky hiker. She fell about 20 ft, stopping her fall by grabbing some branches. Had she fallen any further she would have plunged all the way to the valley floor. She walked away okay, just scratched and shaken. After we talked with her, I embraced the mountain with every bit of energy I could. I hugged each rock like we were the best of friends, surely the mountain couldn’t expel such a devotee.

At the summit the view was spectacular. You could see the entire city of Machu Picchu. Wayna Picchu was the last stronghold of Machu Picchu and would be used in case of attack. It has verticle cliff faces that would make it impossible for an invading army to climb. What I found even more amazing was that there were structures crowning this mountain. There were terraces for farming, houses and temples that were actually built on the cliffs. I could barely carry my camera bag, let alone construction equipment. How did they do that?

Photo by Chris Scott

We left Machu Picchu on foot, leaving the buses and walking down the path to the valley floor. On the way down we befriended a stray dog, something that I have discovered Peru is not short on. This one was friendly and joined us for the descent. I named him Picchu. Eventually we reached the bottom and walked along a dusty road used by buses. I was alarmed at the way Picchu would wait until the last minute to leap out of the way of oncoming buses. He would barely miss getting squashed by inches, much to his annoyance. He would chase the giant metal beast, barking like a wild animal. Luckily, the bus could outrun the animal (I would hate to see what happened if Picchu actually caught up). Picchu returned to our side, proud and placid as ever, as if nothing had happened.

We continued walking along the road (with Picchu walking in the middle). We could hear another bus coming and sure enough, the same scene played out. Picchu almost was hit and he rebounded by barking, growling and chasing the evil bus down the street. This happened several more times until we made it home. I can only imagine how exhausted Picchu was after that 30 minute walk, protecting the tourists from the evil metal beasts.

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Photo by Chris Scott 

Although Cusco is unique city with many incredible sights and people, the presence of tourism makes some interactions awkward. The women and children that wear traditional dress and lead llamas through the street are very eager to pose for photographs, but ask for a fee to do so. This seems like a perfectly fair exchange, but reduces the feeling of authenticity. Tourism has become big business in Cusco so it is understandable that people aggressively sell handicrafts, food and photos to you at every occasion. The worst case is when the children are very small and are doing this instead of going to school.

To see another side of Peru we drove through the mountains out to a small village community called Chinchero. On arrival we were warmly welcomed into the house of Paulino and Vilma. He runs a runs a local orphanage for girls and also supports the local trade of weaving, giving demonstrations of the incredibly skilled process of making their fabric.

Photo by Chris Scott 

I walked around the village square where locals sit with their spreads of brightly colored blankets, scarf’s and hats. The first thing I noticed was that there were many small children, who climb, roll, fight and run their way around the market.

Paulino gave a demonstration of the traditional weaving process. It began with the use of a detergent to clean the discolored wool. He grated a white root into water and mixed it up. After submerging the wool and scrubbing it for a few minutes the wool comes out bright white.

Every step of the process uses natural products , from leaves , flowers , corn and beetles. It’s incredible the amount of different colors that can be made from these ingredients.

This was a great opportunity for the kids to record audio and take pictures. My buddy Rey was recording ambient sound of the many processes. He went up to the women weaving and thrust his microphone towards the weaving loom. Her hands silently whipped back and forth, not making a sound. This was not a problem for Rey who decided to pick up a piece of wood and knock it against her loom to create his desired sound, if not quite the accurate sound of weaving.

Photo by Chris Scott 

We then drove further out to a very small village that rarely experienced tourists. The contrast to Cusco was dramatic and felt very honest. Women and men went about their work ignoring our presence unless we spoke to them. It was sunset and they were bringing back the harvest of grasses from the fields. From a distance it looked like the grass had spouted legs and was walking it’s self back to the village. The huge bundles of grass completely engulfed the men as they leisurely ambled along followed by donkeys and cows. We gathered in the square and chatted to the local women. They enjoyed speaking to us about their homes and family as their tiny kids ran about mischievously in the kicked up dusty haze.

Photo by Chris Scott

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Photo by Chris Scott

Living at 10,000 feet is proving difficult but it is these challenges and quirks which are making the experience so unique.

It’s winter here in Cusco, the ancient capital of the Incas. Each morning I emerge from my alpaca blanket cocoon and the bitter cold hits me. My breath is clearly visible, the sun is out but the mountains are still shading me from its warmth. The sky is pure blue and there is not a cloud in the sky. In the shade it remains bitterly cold during the day but in direct sunlight it is unforgiving, my lobster red face can contest to this.

Apart from the extreme temperatures, altitude is a constant consideration. Until my body finally adapted to the low oxygen levels, I really had to take it easy. Walking is much harder, especially up hill. I was even finding myself out of breath towel drying my hair.

Apart from hindering my ascent to the many mountainous locations, which includes my hotel, you can become very ill. Already two members of our group have suffered acute altitude sickness. Symptoms include: headaches, vomiting, disorientation and if you don’t descend – death. I have managed to avoid most of these symptoms so far but sadly one of our members has had to fly back to Lima.

Photo by Chris Scott

Between surviving, we have been working with a local school. We are helping the students tell personal stories about their culture using digital media. We met the students for the first time today. It’s a real mixed group of ages, backgrounds and personalities. One small boy called Darwin impresses everyone in the first few minutes by reciting all 30 peoples names and favorite fruit as part of a name game. I proved less adept when it came to my turn. My memory is bad at the best of times, but reciting the whole thing in Spanish proved extra difficult as I’m still mastering hello and goodbye. There is no better way to learn a language than being thrown in at the deep end so I’m hoping to be at least fluent by the end. Until then, me and my assigned student Rey, are communicating through exaggerated gestures and a lot of pointing. The funny thing is, it’s working.

We began with a portrait lesson to get the students used to the cameras and principles of photography. We were taken to a historical Incan site of Sacsayhouman. Up on the mountain overlooking Cusco are the formidable Incan walls. The size and constructions is awe-inspiring, especially considering they have withstood centauries of earthquakes where the newer Spanish architecture has crumbled.

Photo by Chris Scott

If you want to break the ice with a new group of people and everyone is a little shy, simply introduce a slide. Nearby a natural formation of rocks that were perfectly smooth provided the perfect way to loosen up and a fantastic photo opportunity.

Photo by Chris Scott

When we finally dragged ourselves away to peruse the remaining ruins, we’re all friends and the photos being produced are amazing. The students demonstrated an amazing grasp of all the lessons and tips we gave them on lighting, angles and composition to produce some fantastic images, and that’s just in one morning’s work.

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