Diagnosis: normal

...at least for a kid with A.D.D.



Doctor: So why are you here?

Me: Well, she has a hard time focussing.

Doctor: How exactly?

Me: When it's time to sit down and do school work, she drifts off and it takes her forever to do homework. And when she's talking, she has a hard time getting all the words out; her thoughts seem really disorganized. Her grades are good, but her teacher always says that she doesn't finish her work on time.

Doctor: Has it always been like this?

Me: Yeah. Even in kindergarten, her teacher sent her into the hall 15 minutes before the others so she could get her snowsuit and boots on in time so she wouldn't get distracted by the other kids.

Doctor: What about sports? Does she do okay in team sports?

Me: We did have her in soccer a couple of years back, but she would be pretty dreamy and not really pay attention to the ball. If it came to her, she'd kick it, but within seconds, she'd be thinking about something other than the game... I've done some reading, and I'm wondering if this may be Attention Deficit Disorder.

Doctor: Sounds to me like there's no question that it is.

And over the course of our 30-minute conversation (with Maïa in another room), what I'd been thinking for months was confirmed. I asked questions, got a few suggestions on coping mechanism, and was told what to look out for.

Doctor: My biggest concern for kids like this isn't school or achievement – because clearly she's smart – my concern is her self-esteem. Does she have friends?

Me: A number of good ones. Yes.

Doctor: Fewer than last year?

Me: No. Probably more.

Turns out that's a great indicator. If she has lots of friends, the way she thinks, the way she sometimes gets distracted, isn't interfering with her social life. But it doesn't mean that it won't. We're supposed to keep an eye on that. And we're supposed to keep an ear open for her putting herself down. So far, we haven't seen it. She has decent self-confidence. She knows she's smart, and she knows there are a bunch of things she's good at. But if that starts changing as school work gets harder, or as girls become meaner and start looking to pick on anything or anyone who is different, her self-esteem might go with it.

Me: So what do we do if that happens?

Doctor: You come back. We decide on another course of action. Perhaps some medication. I don't think we should treat something with drugs that isn't a problem. But if your child had asthma, you'd want her to be able to run with the other kids, right? So we'd prescribe something.

I'm not sold on medicating my child. I'm certainly not sold on drugs for behavioural problems, though I've seen it work wonders in the right context. If we think of a calm, organized child as the norm, then anything outside that norm needs to be changed or treated in some way. That makes me uncomfortable. Because Maïa's dreamy nature might be a boon to her some day, and the doctor even said so.

Doctor: A.D.D. is actually a kind of gift. People with attention issues often tend to be very creative; they're dreamy and they dream up new ideas all the time. When employers say they want someone who can think outside the box, they mean they want people like Maïa. A.D.D. doesn't mean she won't be successful. It could mean she'll be very successful. She'll just need a really good secretary.

Me: So what do we do with all this?

Doctor: Make sure she does homework in a quiet place. The kitchen table while you're making supper and there are other kids whizzing around is a bad idea. Give her one or two tasks at a time. More than that, and she'll be overwhelmed and forget what she's supposed to do. Don't nag; that'll just get her thinking that she's not good enough. Meet her teacher early in the year and work with the teacher. Once the teacher knows her well enough, we can administer a questionnaire, to both parents and the teacher. That way, we get an official diagnosis. Then she can get the resources she needs at school, whether it's more time at exams or a segregated cubby to write tests or do work. But mostly, just listen. Make sure she's happy.

And isn't that the only thing we can do with our kids? Listen, and make sure they're happy?

I've spent eight years being frustrated and annoyed at how my child does things. Because it's not the way I do them. And it's not quick. And I have to repeat myself. And I don't understand why she. just. doesn't. get. it.

Now I know. Suddenly, my heart has opened wider than I thought possible. The pain and frustration I've felt has melted away as I now see the pain and frustration she must have felt all this time, being nagged and cajoled and even yelled at, for something she couldn't quite control or change.

I see a new path before us, as mother and daughter working together, not as adversaries. This diagnosis, which I was both dreading and anticipating, has made me understand. Maïa is Maïa. Completely normal for being herself. It's up to the rest of us to adjust to her way of thinking and to help her along her own path.

Home

After four weeks of being on the road, we arrived home a week ago Friday morning, tired, dirty, but happy.

The first thing the girls did: change into some Ottawa clothes.

Second thing they did:





Followed by:

Days 21-25: May 19-23 - Santa Cruz Trek

The city of Huaraz stands at an elevation of 3000 metres (about 10,000
ft), and various points in Huascaràn National Park, where we'd be
hiking and camping, are much higher. Our job upon arrival was to
acclimatize.

Because we were doing this at high altitude, and because we were going
with kids, we decided to hire a tour company. Paulino at Huascaran
Tours took care of everything for us, including an introductory hike
the day before we left, to judge our abilities.

So on May 18 we left for a short hike in the hills above Huaraz. We
met our guide Francisco at the shop and got a drive up to the trail.
Our very first stop was an underground tomb, in a tiny cave. Equipped
with headlamps, we all climbed into a manhole-sized opening and
crawled about 20 metres to a wide underground opening. This was where
folks in the town used to bury their most important figures. The bones
and artefacts are apparently now in a museum in Huaraz. Next, it was
time to walk. We walked for a couple of hours, through tiny
communities and various fields. Always upward. And then, Maïa and I
ran out of gas in a rocky field banked at about 45 degrees. We sat
while Derek, Solanne and Francisco went up further. It turns out that
Maïa and I made it to about 3900 metres; the rest of the crew went up
to 4000. While the achievement on its own is good, it isn't much when
you consider that the highest point of our hike was going to be 4900
metres!

Francisco assured us this was normal, and that we'd be fine. Back in
town, we went to the tour office to go over our itinerary with
Paulino. He also assured us we would do well. So I steeled myself and
hoped that the experts were right.

We left early the next morning.

Team: Maïa, Solanne, Derek, Cristina, Francisco (guide), Paty
(Patrizia; other guide), Julian Oro (arriero or mule driver), three
donkeys, and one horse. And lots and lots of stuff.

Day 1
Distance hiked: 13km
Total elevation ascended: about 800m

We had a three-hour ride up to Huascarán National Park. We hiked
upward for a chunk of the day. We breaked for a few minutes here and
there, and stopped in a pretty little dale for lunch. Paty and
Francisco prepared us tomato and avocado sandwiches. This was only a
hint of how spoiled we were going to be on the food front. The girls
were tough that first day; they walked the whole morning and only got
rides on the horse in the afternoon. And throughout, they took turns
holding Frsncisco's hand, which was a godsend. Neither of them
complained around him, and they always moved faster when they were
with him.

We arrived at our campsite as the sun had moved behind a mountain. Our
arriero had gone ahead of us (those donkeys can move!) and set up the
tents. There was a large cooking tent, a dining tent complete with
table and four comfy camp chairs, two two-man tents, and our outhouse
tent. We were all alone at the campsite until dusk when another small
party moved in. We ate late: a lovely noodle soup followed by trout
with rice and some kind of potato. We retired to our warm beds soon
after.

Day 2
Distance hiked: 23km

Another clear day. We started out with a hearty breakfast and got
going as quickly as the four of us are able. The first half of the day
was an easy walk, along the bottom of the valley. We were always
within 20 metres of the river. We saw cows, donkeys and horses grazing
in the meadows, with tall green mountains on either side of us and
beautiful snowcapped mountains ahead. Within the first half hour of
our hike, we were reminded that nature is not only beautiful, but it
can be difficult. A little foal came into view - likely about a week
old according to Paty. He was standing, resolutely, by his dead
mother. Maïa understood what had happened and wondered what might
become of the foal. There are no easy answers, and trying to explain
to her that I don't know was almost as difficult as leaving that
little sad-eyed foal to his fate.

We continued on and soon met the other group of hikers I'd seen at our
campsite. One of them is from Montreal and is a photographer/
videographer for National Geographic, and his two companions are
French journalists; they were working on a story about Peru, including
the Santa Cruz trek. We saw them quite a bit during our journey.

Lunch was by the river, then we made our way upward to the base camp
of Alpamayo ("the most beautiful mountain in the world" according to
the German Mountaineering Club). We snacked there, then backtracked
down, zigzagging all the way, and continued on our path to the next
campsite. We had a thick soup and spaghetti that night. Solanne was so
tired that she fell asleep in her chair at the table, before the pasta
was even served!

Day 3
Distance hiked: 28km
Total elevation ascended: 800m

This was the big day: a hike almost straight up to a pass called Punta
Union. A lot of the ascent was very tricky, so the kids couldn't hitch
a ride with the horse. They were strong and brave (stronger and braver
than me!). Punta Union is a tiny doorway, way, way up in the mountain,
that separates one valley from another. When we finally arrived, there
was cheering (from us as well as our National Geographic friends). We
snacked up there and greeted others who arrived through the pass from
the other direction (doing the trek backwards from us). I have the
distinct feeling that we wrecked one woman's day, since she was
exhausted but proud of herself for making it up, only to find a six-
year-old and an eight-year-old in fine form after their ascent to 4700m!

Soon it was time to make our way down - a descent of about 900m,
mostly on rocky terrain. This valley was decidedly different from the
first. It was cooler here, and it was grey and rain threatened (it was
sunny and rather warm in the previous valley). Down we went, until we
thought we had reached the bottom of the valley and there was a turn,
and it went down some more. Francisco pushed us to get as low as
possible before any rain might come. We had a quick lunch by a little
lake and continued on. After what felt like forever, we arrived at our
campsite, just before dark. It was getting cold, so we put on our
extra layers, ate supper and went straight to bed.

Day 4
Distance hiked: 6km

We woke to the sound of rain on the tent and the promise of a rather
dreary day. Luckily, this was our short hike day. We hiked out of the
park as the rain turned to drizzle and eventually stopped altogether.
The hike was nearly straight up toward a town called Vaqueria where we
caught a combi to take us to our next destination (too far to hike).
We piled our gear high onto the roof of the combi and said goodbye to
our donkeys and horse. The walk up had taken about three hours, and
the ride was another hour or so. Our journalist friends were with us
in the combi, so when the van got a flat tire, the videographer was
nearly giddy with excitement; it would seem that a flat is a common
occurrence for combis but he had not yet witnessed - or taped - one.
This was his chance. And it was our chance to once again disembark,
but we didn't need to help this time. The driver, Francisco, and
others were already jacking up the van and changing the tire by the
time we got out.

Once we were back on the road we got decent views of a few mountains
and a couple of beautiful lakes. Unfortunately, the clouds obscured
the mountaintops. We zigzagged down the road on hairpin turns as
Francisco told us about the various fatal bus accidents that had
occurred on that road over the years. I think he just enjoyed watching
Derek and me turn a little green.

The combi dropped us off at our campsite in early afternoon. We
unloaded all our gear, said goodbye to our arriero as well as our
journalist friends and made camp. For the first time, Derek and I were
not only present for tent-pitching but were allowed to help a little.

Once everything was set up, it was time to rest. The sky had cleared
somewhat, so it was a pleasant enough afternoon, if a little cool. The
kids drew, Paty and I chatted about this and that (I practiced my
Spanish and she tried out the few English words she knows), and Derek
and Francisco played a couple of matches of soccer against the
arrieros that camp out nearby, waiting for a gig. I have to say that
for a guy who doesn't play soccer, he held his own at 3900m!

As the day wore on, the girls retired to the cooking tent where Paty
showed us her stove (complete with full sized propane tank, which the
donkeys had been carrying!). Soon the boys joined us and Francisco and
Paty were busily preparing supper, so we slipped out to make room for
them - though we would have preferred to stay; it was much warmer in
the cooking tent!

Day 5
Distance hiked: 16km
Total elevation ascended: 1000m

I have to be honest, if we'd known that we were hiking up to 4900m
before we left, we may have bowed out. Sometimes ignorance is your
friend...

Francisco and Paty rock-paper-scissored to decide who got to take us
up to Lago 69 and who had to stay back to make lunch. Francisco won,
and it was relatively early when we set out to go up to what promised
to be a beautiful sight. With no horse (it was too hard anyway), the
girls had to make the whole hike on their own steam. So we walked. Up.
And up. And up. Francisco described the walk as being up in zigzags
followed by a flat part, then more zigzags. I suppose the "flat" part
was relative, because even that part was banked upward.

A troupe of police officers-in-training passed us along the way. You
know you're on a hard trail when it's used for bootcamp... After three
hours of up, of hard, hard work upward, we finally reached our goal:
the bluest lake I have ever seen. We sat and enjoyed the view (and
tried to ignore the hooting of the police officers-in-training). Above
the lake rose a giant glacier, and we could hear the intermittent
cracking of the ice high above, and I kept wondering if we'd see an
avalanche (we didn't).

We had our snack and made our way back down - 8km of down. Maybe I'm
getting old, but my knees sure were aching after that. The kids? They
were in fine shape. Lunch awaited us at the campsite: causa, a Lima
specialty of potatoes prepared in various fashions. This one was like
a pâté chinois: a layer of mashed potatoes, a layer of tuna, then
another layer of mashed potatoes. It was delicious. As we finished
eating, our guides were already packing up our gear. The company van
was waiting for us; it took us on the last leg of our trip: the three-
hour drive down to Huaraz.

In town, Paulino met us upon arrival to see how things had gone. Paty
offered a teary goodbye and Francisco clapped Derek on the back and
accepted the girls' enthusiastic hugs. Paulino's final and most
generous act as a host was to invite us back to his place the
following evening for Pisco Sour (a Peruvian aperitivo) and some rice
pudding that Paty had made for kids.

Some notes
• it gets cold at night at those elevations: about zero degrees
• the sun at such high elevations is strong: SPF 50 for all!
• in the mornings, our guides gave us each a little tub of hot water
to wash up
• coca tea (made of coca leaves) is served to help alleviate altitude
sickness
• we always had fresh water, thanks to rivers and streams and our
handy SteriPen (which uses UV rays to sterilize water - one litre in
one minute)

Passing through

Between May 15 and 17, we were on the road intermittently. On May 15,
we left Ollantaytambo for Cuzco. We arrived back at the apartment
where we'd stayed earlier, showered and got caught up on laundry and
email. That evening, we had planned to visit a restaurant for supper,
but when we got to Plaza San Francisco (one of the central squares),
we found a carnival-like atmosphere and decided to eat in the square.
Countless women were selling various Peruvian streetfood from carts on
the square: anticucho, fried eggs with potatoes, various barbecued
meat (including alpaca), popcorn and more. We bought the girls each a
plate of fried eggs with fried potatoes and rice. Derek and I decided
it was time to try anticucho: skewered chicken hearts, deep-fried and
punctuated with a small boiled potato at the end of the stick. Our
Lonely Planet guide calls it "heart attack on a stick" and "deeply
addictive" - both are true.

Next day, we were on the plane back to Lima so that we could next go
to Huaraz. Unfortunately, the various regions of Peru are not linked
up by good highways, and there aren't any flights from one town to
another, so if one wants to see more than one region, one must double
back to the capital and hub, Lima.

We were back in the capital by early afternoon and weren't scheduled
to be on the road until late night, so we had a few hours to fill. We
decided to go to the zoo. We had a couple of hours there before it
closed, so we got to see some Peruvian animals: llamas and alpacas
(and their close cousins, vecuñas and guanacos), leopards, a panther,
various small rainforest cats, many little monkeys of all sorts, a
sloth, toucans, and lots more. The kids' favourites: a small
rainforest cat and the tiniest monkeys.

Once the zoo closed, we grabbed a cab to downtown and hung out in
Plaza San Martín for a short while, then headed out to an entirely
forgettable restaurant that may or may nor have been the cause of a
very unpleasant busride for me that night... Lesson: Lonely Planet
suggestions aren't always foolproof.

By 9pm we were at the bus station to wait for our night bus (7-hour
ride) to Huaraz. The plan was that we'd get the kids settled at the
station so they could sleep a couple of hours before we hopped onto
the 11pm bus. Solanne slept a little; Maïa did not. Both slept well in
the bus and were surprisingly refreshed when we arrived in Huaraz at
6am.

The staff at our hotel, Soledad, was very gracious and let us check in
at 6:30. I recovered from whatever tummy bug I got; Derek took the
kids out to explore our new locale. After having been in some very
touristy towns, it was apparently a nice break to be in a town where
people just go about their day and don't exist just for tourists.
Derek describes Huaraz as a homely but nice town.

Day 15: May 13 - Quechua culture day

Weaving

We found our homestay family through an organization called Awamaki,
which works with indigenous weavers up in the highlands above
Ollantaytambo. Part of the work they do is ensuring that the women
receive a living wage from the weavings they make (aka "fair trade").
They also work with the women to teach them improved weaving
techniques and ensure that the next generation of young women receive
the appropriate training as well.

Awamaki also arranges weaving workshops for visitors. Some stay for
weeks at a time learning traditional Quechua weaving techniques. Some,
like us, get a short introduction to weaving.

We left at around 9 am Peru time - so, closer to 10. We were part of a
small tour of about 10. Our guide, Emma, is a young British expat who
has been working with the women for about two years. She gave us a bit
of an explanation of the area and the culture on the van ride up the
mountain. The people of the town, Patacancha, wear traditional
Peruvian clothes and speak Quechua, the indigenous language, but many
also speak Spanish. They are mostly agricultural, but some of the
women now make a wage from weaving.

The ride up to the town was a little over an hour long. The road was
winding with many switchbacks and a few narrow passes. We're in the
dry season right now, but we did manage to get stuck in a rutted muddy
bit of road on the side of the mountain. We all got out (except the
kids and the driver) and pushed. And pushed some more. And again.
Soon, one of the back wheels was almost completely buried and the
chassis of the van was touching the ground. After a little digging
with a wrench, and some strategic placing of bits of shale, and lots
more pushing, the van dislodged and we were back on track.

Emma explained that Awamaki workers try to visit the weavers in
Patacancha once a week in the dry season. But in the rainy season,
they may not make it up the mountain for a few months, since the roads
are impassable. And there are communities much farther up the
mountain. Getting stuck for even a few minutes gave me a small sense
of the isolation of these communities.

Up in Patacancha, we were each assigned a teacher who gave us a little
lesson on weaving. Solanne and I (mostly me) made a bracelet, and
Derek and Maïa (mostly Maïa) worked together on their own bracelet.
Our teacher, a 20-year-old woman named Jesusa, was quiet at first but
was soon full of questions about life in Canada. My Spanish is
limited, so explaining a few concepts was tricky, but I got through it
and Jesusa was understanding enough. She asked about my kids, my age,
my salary (!), whether people in Canada believe in God or go to
church, what I do for a living, what grade the kids are in, what
languages I speak. She also remarked on how big my kids are (which is
hilarious to me since they are among the smallest in their respective
classes) and how old I was when I had kids. Not easy topics to cover
in a third language, all the while trying to manage a technique that
still borders on magic for me (I really didn't understand the
mechanics of weaving). Solanne watched a fair bit, picked some flowers
and wandered around to see what others were doing. A few times, I
wished I wasn't literally tied to the stake and could escape the hard
questions.

Once we were done our lessons, the women brought out their wares,
which we could buy directly from them. Apparently they are a very
egalitarian community and they try to share the sales among
themselves. The girls each got a tiny wallet for 3 soles each ($1). I
got a purse and a belt. We later went to the Awamaki shop to buy some
more, one piece that was woven by the master weaver of the community.

***

Festival

In the evening, Sonia our homestay host brought us to a celebration.
We weren't clear on details but we knew we would get to see some
traditional Peruvian dancing, which apparently the young poeple of
Ollanta are famous for. Little did we know that we would not only
witness a festival of sorts but be part of a parade!

We took a bus-van (also known as a combi) to the town of Urubamba. The
combi was designed for about ten passengers, but at any given time
there were more than 15, and just as I thought we were full up, the
combi would stop to pick up another passenger or two. We had a few
conversations with other passengers, all of whom were always
interested in where we are from. One woman couldn't stop looking at
the girls' eyes and commenting on their colour. I suppose that it's
not everyday that Urubambans get up close and personal with gringitas!

Sonia and Ferdinand's 14-year-old daughter, Corali, goes to school in
the nearby town of Urubamba. Her school, which my oldest friends will
appreciate, is called Instituto La Salle (I went to École secondaire
De La Salle). The celebration was the anniversary of the founding of
the school here. So we visited the school first, where the kids, from
kindergarten to college, were preparing for the parade. The school
campus is covered in murals of La Salle, many of him with little
Peruvian kids (I'll post pics when we get back).

As it got dark, the classes lined up and began the procession through
town, which would end in the town square. Each class had its own
performance; many were dances, but some were floats and the tiny kids
were dressed in various animal costumes. Each class was followed by
the parents of the children. Sonia invited us to come along with her.
So there we were, a family of gringos, marching in a very Peruvian
parade. Urubamba is not a tourist destination, as witnessed by one
little spectator who shouted when he saw us: "touristas!!" We clearly
stood out.

About halfway through, we left the parade and took a shortcut to the
main square and found a spot on the very crowded church steps to watch
the end of the parade. We bought fresh popcorn - the best and most
"corny" tasting I've ever had.

The 30-minute ride home on the combi was late but uneventful. The kids
were exhausted and fell into bed fully clothed, surely with spinning
Peruvian girls dancing in their heads.

Days 13-17: May 11-15 - Ollantaytambo

For four days we stayed with a family in the small town of
Ollantaytambo. We've been so busy that we haven't had time to reflect
and write on our experiences with our host family, Ferdinand and
Sonia, and their two kids Corali (14) and Rio (3). We will write more
on this experience soon, but need a little time to digest it. Stay
tuned.

Day 13: May 11 - Machu Picchu

Our adventure to this "wonder of the world" actually began the day
before, en route to the town below the site, called Aguas Calientes.

We took a bus from Cuzco to Ollantaytambo, then a train to Aguas
Calientes. On the train platform we spotted another family with two
kids. We've seen very few tourist kids, so they stood out. As we
boarded the train we discovered that the family had a quartet of seats
next to ours.

We chatted with the parents as the kids, Emma (6) and Hugo (9) drew
with our girls. The family, who is from France, has been on the road
for nearly a year, travelling around the world. Peru is their last
leg, and it would seem their kids are ready to be back home. I know
our kids were ripe to have playmates beyond each other, so it was a
nice visit.

Once in Aguas Calientes, we said aurevoir to our new friends and
headed to our hotel room, where we spent what was left of the
afternoon. We left the hotel only to go to dinner, at Govinda's (a
Hare Krishna restaurant - we even have a version of one in Ottawa).
The girls were thrilled to discover spaghetti and tomato sauce on the
menu. Derek and I chose more traditional Peruvian fare (vegetarian
versions, anyway). Our morning was going to be an early one, so we
turned in early.

The buses up to Machu Picchu leave about every fifteen minutes -
mostly they leave once the bus is full. We woke at 5:30, had a quick
breakfast in the hotel lobby, left our packs at the desk for the day,
and caught the 6:15 bus up the mountain.

The ride up is nearly straight up, with switchbacks all along the
mountain, for about 25 minutes. The girls were very excited - as were
we. When we arrived, we hurried up to the entrance and climbed up
toward a high point of the ruins to catch the sun rising over the site
below. It had been light for quite some time, but the high peaks block
all direct light until a little after 7:00. I found a great vantage
point and perched myself with the camera. Derek took the girls a
little higher and watched with them.

The experience was beautiful and magical, so I won't try to describe
it. I may post some pics later; they will tell a better story.

Once the sun was high, we put on our hats and sunscreen and explored
the site.

Machu Picchu is much larger than I had imagined, and visitors have
access to the whole site, which also surprised me. There are maze-like
rooms that most people skip but we explored. That's where we got to
see some lizards, birds and interesting insects up close, since it was
quiet.

The green spaces of the site are mown by llamas, some of which get
close enough to pet. We have lots of pictures of the girls petting
llamas - even a few babies.

Partway through our morning, we spotted Emma, Hugo and their parents.
The kids had hit it off so well, we decided to spend most of the rest
of the day together. The kids played tag, hide-and-go-seek and other
games in a flat, open area of the ruins while we chatted with the
parents, Virginie and Ronald. After lots of play and a little snack,
we were on the move again, parting ways but planning to meet up again
to visit the Inca bridge behind the ruins.

We discovered that the Incas had built in a sophisticated running
water system, possibly for ceremonial baths. We followed some of the
water courses up. In the intense heat of the midday mountain sun, the
sound of running water was refreshing.

The girls were sufficiently awed by the whole site. The size of the
stones used to build everything and the way they all fit together
perfectly, without the need for mortar, was a favourite detail of
theirs. I loved the mystery of the place: it was built at the height
of the Incan empire, just before the Spanish arrived. But the use of
the site is unknown, since it was abandoned before the Spanish got
there. It was so overgrown that the Spanish actually never saw the
site. It was only in 1911 that the Western world "discovered" what may
have been a holy Incan site, a summer residence for the nobility, or
perhaps just a regular town.

The sun was becoming more intense, and Solanne badly wanted to see her
new friend Emma, so we were off to our rendezvous. The eight of us
hiked up a short steep path which then became more even, but much
narrower, with a sheer drop down on one side. It was nerve-wracking
for us, but our friends seemed fine to have their kids skip ahead. We
wound around the mountain and came to a narrow pass below - the Inca
bridge. The path had been built up with stones but had crumbled away
long ago. A wooden plank lies across the pass to connect it to the
rest of the path, which is not maintained and trails into nothingness
about 20 meters beyond. We stayed far away from the path, but snapped
a few pics of a guy testing the board on his hands and knees. I still
maintain he's crazy, but I'm glad he was there to give the scene a
sense of scale.

We hiked back and the kids were starving, so we left the site and
lunched just outside the gates at a picnic table. We said goodbye to
our new friends (not before exchanging blog addresses) and got on the
bus back to town.

In town we went to the market to get some food for our ride back. We
got what has become our usual: some bread, an avocado, and bananas,
plus a treat - chocolate bars! Less than five dollars for our supper.

We took the train that evening to our next stop: Ollantaytambo, which
is a town in the Sacred Valley.

Day 11: May 9 (Derek)

Markets and schools

All in all, things are fine now and Cristina is feeling much better. We even went out today. First we went to the market to get breakfast, as we were all famished, Cristina especially, after not eating anything at all yesterday.

The market is one of my favourite things about Cusco - there are more kinds of food to buy here than I'll ever know the names for, and walking through the stalls is to be constantly assaulted with mountains of fruits, vegetables, grains, nuts, potatoes, cheeses, breads, animal parts, and rows and rows of stalls serving hot, delicious, simple meals, all of them insanely cheap. While the Peruvian notion of cleanliness and hygeine is different from what we are used to, everything we have bought here is delicious. For breakfast, we bought whole wheat bread, cheese, fresh avocados, bananas, and mandarins, and a bowl of noodle soup for Cristina, which you can get 'to go' in a plastic bag. Cost for everything: 10 soles, or just over 3 dollars.

Then, just for contrast, we went to buy our massively overpriced train tickets for Machu Picchu. You can only get there by train, and unfortunately there is only one company selling the tickets, so the prices are inflated to the point where ordinary Peruvians who want to visit Machu Picchu have to walk 8 hours along the tracks to get there. All this is sustained by the fact that vast hordes of dumb tourists like us who believe the hype are willing to pay for them. (We'll report back in a couple of days on whether it was worth it).

After that, we visited the Inca Museum, where we saw all kinds of Inca relics, including various mummies, each of them tied up into a bundle. Some may have been sacrificial victims, but the Incas also made their kings and nobles into mummies, and brought them out each year for a special ceremony where they were 'served' food, which was then ritually burnt. I don`t know which kind of mummies these were, but Cristina ilicitly snapped a picture when no one was looking (no flash, though), so when we eventually are able to post pics, we can show them.

Then it was back to the market for more soup, which we all shared, and a plate of breaded and fried trout, potatoes, rice, and cabbage salad. Two huge bowls of soup and a plate of food cost four and a half soles, or about a dollar fifty - I wanted to give the woman who cooked our food some of the money I spent on the train ticket, to even things out. We spent some time talking with her and her daughter, and she kindly reminded us to watch out for our bags and camera when walking around. (We have been pretty careful so far and have a pretty good system going, knock on wood). Cristina and the kids also talked a bit with some other customers, a woman and her tiny baby. The woman and her husband were teenagers, and reminded us that parenthood starts early for many Peruvians in poor areas.

We were also approached by two young Canadian guys named Adam and Mike, who asked if they could interview us for their university research project on sustainable tourism. It was nice to speak English for a bit with someone who spoke it as a native language, for a change. We had lots to say, since we have tried wherever possible to support organizations that are doing sustainable tourism, where ordinary Peruvians actually benefit from tourist dollars instead of only seeing a small fraction of that money. (Some of these organizations involve activities that we'll be doing later in our trip.) It was also nice to see their interest in this type of issue. They have a blog on their project, which I took down but can't seem to find at the moment - I'll put a link to it on our blog later on.

The best part of the day was the end. Two days ago, we ate at a really cool restaurant called Aldea Yanapay, which looks like the inside of a daycare, with stuffed animals and mobiles all over the place - very family friendly, with great food. We chose this place because our guidebook said that their proceeds support projects that work with children from poor families in Cusco. They also have a hostel which is run the same way (we didn't stay there though, since they don't really have family rooms available). While we were there, our server told us we were welcome to visit one of their main projects, an after-school program, and gave us a brochure with directions. So, after our late afternoon lunch and interview, we headed uphill through some very narrow and dirty streets, with sidewalks barely big enough to walk on (not much more than a foot wide), and cars and buses barelling past, to find this place.

When we got there, we found an amazing little place tucked away, as most Peruvian houses are, in a series of courtyards stretching out behind the door that opens onto the street. The program was founded by the Yanapay family, and enlists the help of student volunteers, some of whom stay for a week or two, others who are there for several months. The program coordinator is Yuri Yanapay, a wonderful young man with a beautiful smile and a pile of dreadlocks under his toque. There are about 80 kids who frequent the program, though only about 30 seem to be there at any one time. The program runs from 3 to 7 on weekdays, and is free for families whose parents work in the evenings, or for kids whose families can't or don't care well for them at home. Part of the time, the kids get to play games with the volunteers and the other kids, and part of the time they do programs where each week they learn about a particular subject, and then at the end of the week, perform short theatrical pieces to show what they have learned, and present their learning to the other groups. The kids are divided into various groups, and each group will work on its own project throughout the week and create its own performance.

When we got there, Yuri asked a Belgian volunteer named Sanne to show us around, and she introduced us to some of the kids. Maia hit it off with a little girl about her age named Lady (modern Peruvian names can be interesting sometimes), and spent some time playing games with some of the other kids. Solanne was a bit shy at first, but opened up when Cristina got out her camera, and a throng of girls gathered around and wanted to have pictures taken with her. Then when Maia and I came back, they wanted to take pictures of us, which Cristina kindly let them do, watching them bit nervously as they each took a photo with her rather expensive camera. (They took really nice pictures though! We'll try to post them when we get a chance.) They kept asking us to speak in English and French with Maia and Solanne, which they found hilarious, and had no end of questions for us. I think Maia and Solanne were a little overwhelmed, given they don´t speak much Spanish, but they had a really good time meeting the other kids, and Maia even tried out some Spanish phrases she's been practicing.

Next, Yuri called everyone for a sort of circle time where all the kids get together, and there is time to talk about new developments (e.g. new volunteers joining the group, birthdays, etc), discuss the week's subjects and learnings, and talk about current events. Today, Yuri started off by introducing eight new volunteers, four of whom were from Canada (making eight new Canadians, including us - yay Canada!). He spent a lot of time having the kids ask the volunteers questions about themselves and their countries, and getting the kids to share what they knew about those countries. (They were pretty good! I guess they get a lot of international volunteers there, which helps broaden their horizons.) Next, he introduced the topic of the week. The theme for the next few months is religion, so last week they talked about Catholicism, and learned about the sacraments. This week, they are learning about the parables of Jesus, so each group will do a presentation on a different parable. Then, they will be learning about other religions, including Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, and the Inca religion. A lot of really great learning for an after school program - we were really impressed. Finally, Yuri closed the circle by talking about the news of the past week, including the death of Osama bin Laden, and used this as an opportunity to talk with the kids about two lessons. The first was the importance of not judging others - i.e. that just because there are people who do bad things in Peru, it is not fair to blame all Peruvians, and similarly, just because there are people who do bad things in America, it is not right to hate Americans or to attack innocent Americans as bin Laden did. And second, he talked about the importance of not using violence to respond to problems - a veiled criticism both of al Qaeda and of the US, which was interesting - it seemed that anti-American sentiment is probably an issue in some quarters in Peru. So he talked about how the rule in Aldea Yanapay is that kids are never allowed to play violent games, pretend to use weapons, or do things that hurt one another, because they need to learn other ways to deal with problems. They talked about the various problems people face in Peru, and how those lessons are relevant.

I thought it was some very grown-up discussions for a group of kids aged from 4 to 12, but what surprised me was the way Yuri held their attention, and engaged them in a conversation about all these topics. You can really tell these kids are loved, and that they love being there.

After the circle time, we thought it best to leave, as it was getting dark, so we thanked Yuri and Sanne, and promised to tell everyone we knew about their work. So, here is a link to their webpage, which includes a photo gallery on the school. We´ll post pictures of our own as well.

Tomorrow, we are off to Aguas Calientes, which is the town next to Machu Picchu, and then the next day, to Machu Picchu itself, to see if the ruins live up to their reputation as one of the new 'seven wonders of the world'.

Day 10: May 8 (Derek)

An unexpected introduction to Peruvian health care

The past two days have been very busy, in both good and not so good senses. This morning, Cristina woke up feeling awful and with signs of altitude sickness - tired, pallid, weak, short of breath, and her fingers were slightly blue, though this may have been partly due to the cold as the temperatures here in Cusco are close to freezing at night, and we have no heating (just lots of blankets, fleece jackets, etc). We were all hit with the altitude on our first day, but we expected that, so to have this happen on the third day was unexpected. Luckily, if you have money, health care in Peru is excellent. The manager of our apartment promptly called a private clinic for us, and they sent a doctor right away to do an examination. He said Cristina was going to be okay, but recommended bringing her in to have oxygen and rest for some time in the clinic. He told us it might be an hour or two. Cristina insisted that the girls and I stay back, and that she would be fine. However, when she got there, a more senior doctor thought it would be best to keep her longer for observation. He also prescribed some medication, in addition to the altitude sickness pills our travel doctor had given us back in Ottawa. So all in all, she didn´t get back home until around 5:30. The good news is that she is feeling much better, and just needed a lot of rest. The doctor said she should eat nothing for the rest of the day, but to take it easy, and drink lots of coca tea, which people here drink regularly and apparently helps with the altitude. Tomorrow, she is to eat only soup, but she can go out as long as she doesn't do anything strenuous.

I have no idea how much all this cost, because Cristina's health plan covered everything, no questions asked. On the one hand, I am glad that Peru has such excellent health care services available. Cristina had a private room, and was well cared for by several staff at the clinic. On the other, it is really sad that most Peruvians can't afford most of it, so that these clinics are mostly used by foreigners. I can definitely see the argument that many people in Canada make for private health care - when you are paying directly for the service, there is no waiting, you are served immediately, and treated extremely well, which I can see is desirable in comparison to waiting an hour or two in a clinic in Canada. However, all this just makes me more convinced that these services should be accessible to everyone, and that figuring out how to make that happen should be one of our top priorities.

Day 9: May 7 (Derek)

Cusco

We arrived safely in Cusco, after a pretty 'exciting' landing, swooping down into the mountains after a short flight. At a couple of points we seemed to be turning with the plane banked at a 45 degree angle, and then for whatever reason the pilot missed the landing strip and had to do it all over again. The girls giggled the whole time -I think the were mostly oblivious. I noticed the air hostesses were very calm, so I assumed all this was routine and decided there was no reason to be worried, but it was one of those times when your mind has to convince your instincts otherwise.

Cusco is about 3300 m in altitude, and the change is definitely noticeable. We took yesterday afternoon very easy, and made sure to drink lots of water and coca tea. Even so, just walking up hills left us short of breath. We went out for supper and I could barely eat a few bites, then we all stumbled like zombies back to our apartment. Luckily Cristina was in better shape and didn't seem as affected (though today things seem to be reversed as I am more or less fine, and she is taking a rest).

We are staying in a very spacious two-bedroom apartment, with the kids' bedroom on a second half-level. The apartment is in an 18th century building and overlooks a beautiful courtyard, only four blocks from the main square of Cusco. Cusco itself is kind of like one might imagine from pictures of rural Peru - cobbled streets, ancient churches, people everwhere, many dressed in traditional clothing, the women carrying their babies in rainbow coloured blankets, and the old women wearing top hats and bowler hats and skirts with sweaters and tall woolen socks. And kids all over the place, with parents or by themselves, often trying to sell us a shoe shine, or souvenirs, or photos of themselves in traditional dress. Many people here are poor and make their living selling things in the street, although there are also people who do have means, which you can tell from their cellphones, iPods, and fashionable jeans. Cusco does seem to have a number of organizations that help street kids and rural families, through education, nutrition projects, business development training, and so on. We are looking into which organizations give proceeds to these kinds of work, so we can decide how to spend our money best.

We also visited the traditional market, where you can buy anything from delicious fresh fruits and vegetables, to grains, bread, and cheese, to animal parts of all sorts (feet, heads, intestines, and more, all prominently on display on wooden counters, which they will cook up for you if you ask). For breakfast we found bananas, mandarins, and bread for less than 10 cents each, and for lunch, sandwiches for 33 cents, and heaping plates of beans and rice for less than 2 dollars per person.

We've been having a break as the mountain sun is very hot, but we'll be going out again soon, so I will post more later.

Day 7: May 5 (Derek)

[After a long period of intermittent email access, we finally have a chance to post some things we've been meaning to put up over the past week or so. Cristina has asked me to post some of the emails I've written, especially regarding the time period when she was in the hospital ... but more about that in a couple of posts.]

Bye bye, Lima

The kids are mostly back to normal. Maia was feeling under the weather at the end of the day yesterday; she went to sleep early and was sick twice in the night. However, this could have just been the result of overexertion yesterday, since she is doing fine this morning. We'll keep an eye on her to see how today goes.

Yesterday was the first day 'back' on our itinerary, and it was great to be out with the kids feeling better. Walking around yesterday, there were a lot of things that reminded us of Mexico city. Lima is big, busy, messy, fascinating, and full of wild (and often violent) history, from the Inca to the Spanish conquest to modern times. Way too much traffic, though I found the buses really fun to ride. However, our neighborhood, Miraflores, has some lovely bits. Every house seems to have a little garden with cacti of all sorts, jade plants, aloe vera, bougainvillia, and all sorts of flowering vines crawling over the walls, so that you are smelling flowers in bloom every block or so. The seaside part is perched on top of a winding wall of cliffs which are studded with tiny parks, some of them quite stunning, and all of them peaceful with the sound of the waves rolling in below. Part of me could imagine us living here for a time, if we had jobs that took us to Peru, though it is grey and foggy in winter, and I'd miss the snow.

On the other hand, we've lost four days of our itinerary here, and are going to have to skip one leg of our trip, including hiking in the Colca Canyon. Even though Lima is a fascinating city, and our hotel is very nice (especially the staff), there are a few things that make us want to move on. For one, our hotel is on a noisy street, and it would be nice to have peaceful evenings for a change (there are quiet streets two blocks over, but that doesn't help when the kids are in bed!). I am also excited to get into the mountains and do some hiking. So, tomorrow, if all goes well, we will be
flying to Cusco, the city nearest to Machu Picchu. We'll be going two days early, but since we'll be going directly to Cusco (which is 3300 m or so in altitude), instead of moving gradually upward via Arequipa, we'll need some extra time to acclimatize. I am not sure what to expect, since Cusco is Peru's most touristy city, full of Inca ruins, and so also full of people trying to cash in on the tourism industry by selling stuff to tourists. But we will have our own apartment there, with a quiet courtyard and a kitchen to cook in. Plus, there are lots of options for escaping to the countryside to hike, ride horses, or whatever. We also plan to spend a few days staying with a Peruvian family in a small town in the mountains, where we will take a traditional weaving class, visit farms, and hike up to Inca ruins. Anyway, we'll see what happens, since we're beginning to realize we can't necesarily plan too far ahead.

Pocky

A paraphrasing of Solanne's understanding of a childhood disease

A few weeks ago, Pocky came to live in Solanne. She did not know about
Pocky - or about Pocky's siblings.

Pocky's parents and grandparents had been cultivated in a colony in
Solanne's friend Emilia. Pocky shot out of Emilia, who was evicting
the offspring of her own pockies, and went directly into Solanne to
begin a new colony. It wasn't malicious, but merely about survival.

Pocky and family remained invisible inside Solanne for a couple of
weeks, until they were ready to make their appearance. Most of Pocky's
siblings are traditional and popped out on her shoulders, torso, back,
and head. But not Pocky. A fingertip, where the whorls of fingerprints
lay, was Pocky's chosen home.

Solanne welcomed Pocky, recognizing that Pocky meant her no harm. In
fact, once Pocky's family are done showing themselves, they will
retreat inward and return to their invisible selves. They will be
quiet, only acting up if their home is invaded by one of Pocky's
distant cousins, in which case they will defend their host. The one
big advantage to having Pockie is that it only happens once.

***

Weird places the pockies have appeared

on Maïa:
•upper lip
•in the ear
•inside the mouth

on Solanne:
•three different fingertips
•palm of the hand
•bottom of the foot
•lower eyelid

Day 7: May 5

By the sea

Solanne had been talking about this since our first day in Lima: to
touch the Pacific ocean. We have spent some time on a sort of
boardwalk, but high above the sea, overlooking the crashing waves and
their ever-present surfers.

Today we wound our way down a great number of stairs and spent a few
hours - at midday - on the stoney beach. The girls squealed as the
surf hit them, they picked through the tiny pebbles and found pretty
ones to keep, and they nearly lost their discarded crocs as the tide
came in. Definitely a fun time at the beach.

We dried off in minutes in the hot tropical sun and made our way
toward our hotel. We stopped on the way at a restaurant. The kids had
rice with seafood, I had beef stew with sweet potato and rice, and
Derek had some kind of beef with homecut potatoes and rice. I think I
had the winning plate, but it was mediocre at best. For 23 soles ($7) for
the lot, however, it's hard to complain.

Tomorrow, we are off to Cuzco, as we say hasta luego to noisy Lima. We
opted for the quick 70-minute flight instead of the slightly cheaper
17-hour bus trip.

Day 6: May 4

Out and about

After four days of staying in, the girls were ready to venture out.
With all their sores either shrinking or crusted over, we know they're
no longer contagious. And their energy this morning was hardly
containable.

We hopped a local bus and rode from Miraflores to downtown - a 45-
minute ride in a glorified van. It cost us 2.50 Soles, less than a
dollar, for the four of us.

The bus has two workers: the driver and the ticket-taker. These
descriptions do not do them justice, however. The driver doesn't just
drive: he weaves in and out of traffick, estimating his berth with
mere millimeters to spare; he generally manages to obey traffick
signals; and he is attuned to the ticket-taker's directions to stop,
go, slow down, go around, or wait; not easy with the constant clatter
of old VW bugs, horns, and loud music blaring (from his own stereo).
The ticket-taker has the more interesting job. He stands at the door,
which is midway along the body of the extended van, and half hanging
out hollers the destination of the bus, over and over again. I'm not
sure why, since the destination is actually painted on the front and
side of the bus, but it is entertaining; ours sounded like an
auctioneer selling off the best destination for a reasonable price. He
also hops off the bus as it rolls to a stop so that passengers can get
off and on. He also lets the bus driver know if someone needs to get
off or if a potential passenger is running to catch the bus. And he
takes your payment and makes change.

***

Once downtown, we walked to the main square (Plaza de Armas), which is
large and very well manicured, which actually makes it less
interesting than some of the other squares and parks, in my opinion.

The cathedral is one of the main buildings on the square, so we
visited that next. I'm very impressed at how much the kids like to
discover old churches. We spent nearly two hours exploring, including
very cool catacombs, with a number of skulls on display, and a
"treasure room" with beautiful vestments and religious objects - there
was lots of gold involved. We also found the tomb of the first
archbishop of Lima, who was just 32 when he died in 1575.

Just before noon, we headed back out to the Plaza de Armas in time for
the changing of the guard at the presidential palace (Palacio de
Gobierno). Lots of pomp, some ceremony; the kids found it pretty
boring. It didn't help that it was taking place behind an iron fence,
across the street, guarded by heavily armed riot police (about one
every 15 meters). Not really worth standing around for.

Next was lunch at El Cordano, a local bar and restaurant that boasts
that it has hosted every president for lunch since it opened its doors
a hundred years ago. The kids had cheese sandwiches (can't go wrong
with that!); I had fried calamari (ditto); and Derek had the special -
beans, rice and chicken in a delicious sauce. As in all our travels,
we try to keep to mostly vegetarian fare, but we also feel the need to
try local specialties. Likely I'll be writing about tasting anticichos
(beef heart), alpaca, and more ceviche (mounds of seafood). Stay tuned.

The afternoon saw us heading out to the Monasterio de San Francisco,
complete with extensive catacombs. There were signs throughout, and
both the ticket seller and our guide made it clear that we were not to
take any photos, with or without flash. Those warnings always inspire
excitement and great disappointment in me, since I know will be seeing
extraordinary beauty - and I won't be able to bring it home with me. I
was right. The first stop on the tour was a domed ceiling made of
hundreds of pieces of carved cedar assembled into geometric shapes of
various stars (Arab influence at work in new-world Spanish colony!).
The dome is not just beautiful; it's an astounding work of engineering
since no glue or nails were used to assemble the dome: it's held
together by pressure.

Another amazing sight was one of the most extensive ancient libraries
in Latin America, with a collection of more than 25,000 books, dating
back to the 15th century. It looked like a movie set, and the lit
freak in me worried immediately about the state of the books. There
was clearly no light control (skylights above) or humidity control
(open doors in a very humid city). I wonder if those fragile works
will last another century in their current state and home.

There was lots to see, but the most notable was the last stop: the
catacombs. The monks of centuries past provided free Christian burial
to all, so this was a popular site, with likely more than 25,000
bodies resting below the monastery. We got to see collections of
femurs and skulls, and explore the maze-like catacombs.

After stepping out of the monastery we decided it was time for a
treat. A short walk away we found a bakery selling a sweet concoction
called turròn de Doña Pepa. It's a layered affair with three layers
of shortbread-like fingers, virtually glued together with a syrup
(likely corn based) and topped with colourful candy. The stuff is made
in large pans and is sold by the quarter kilo. We ordered half a kilo
between the four of us. Solanne liked it most, but as always only had
an appetite to eat about five bites of sweets before frowning and
announcing she was done. Maïa managed to eat half of hers; Derek and I
polished ours off, but at the expense of any possibility of interest
in supper.

Between each of our destinations, we walked, explored various squares
and parks, and stopped to relax and draw. A decent day for the first
one back from a sick bed.

Day 2: April 30

Change of plans

It turns out the virus the kids have isn't a flu, but the chicken pox.
So we'll be staying in Lima for a little while yet. The plan had been
to leave for Arequipa tonight, but now we'll have to skip that part.

But all is not lost. For one thing, we have two great rooms in a
decent inn, with a private courtyard. So we have access to the
outdoors (sunny and 24C for the past two days, and the forecast is the
same for the foreseeable future). Not a bad way to spend a quarantine.

The kids are in surprisingly good spirits. Solanne has only four
blisters; Maïa has many, many more. But both are happy and playing
more peacefully together than they have in months.

We'll spend our days relaxing and recuperating, which, it turns out,
is a welcome relief to both Derek and me. We were so busy planning and
booking in the weeks leading up to our vacation, and our itinerary was
looking so busy, this break may actually be what WE need, too.

So we'll bide our time in Lima, enjoying our courtyard and some decent
take out food, and even taking a few well-deserved siestas.

Day 1: April 29

Lima

The kids felt much better today, even after waking up at 8:00 with
just six hours of sleep in them. They bounce back amazingly well. I
wish I could say the same for me. Though I must admit that for the
first time in my life, I experienced the miracle of coffee (I usually
just get a headache).

We took it easy this morning, letting the kids set the pace. They
played a little in our courtyard, which we share between our adjoining
rooms. Then we set out to explore a very busy and loud city.

We're staying in Miraflores, a well to do and touristy part of the
city, so walking around is not only safe, but very pleasant. We spent
a few hours in a playground, where the kids managed to make some
friends, and Maïa even learned a couple of phrases in Spanish.

Derek and I eventually got hungry, though the kids were still running
on a mostly full tank from our very generous "continental" breakfast
at the hotel. We headed out to Punto Azul, a resto recommended by our
trusty Lonely Planet guide.

We were not disappointed. Derek and I had ceviche, a Liman dish of
seafood piled high and seasoned with lime juice and cilantro. The
dishes were gorgeous, and it was only when we were halfway through
that I realized I should have taken a picture of the amazing
creations. I guess we were hungry! The kids split a seafood soup, and
could barely finish it; the servings here are massive. What they
enjoyed most was Inca Cola, a yellow pop that has a taste I am hard
pressed to describe. All that food cost us about $30.

By the time we were done, it was late afternoon. We spent the rest of
daylight walking near the water (Pacific ocean), though high above the
beach. The views were beautiful, and the walkway, bustling.

As the sun set, the city became even busier - very different from life
in Ottawa! We walked back to the hotel, through the park we'd played
in earlier, which was now set up with vendors selling typical Peruvian
items: silver jewelry, textiles, handmade kids' toys, and the
omnipresent Peruvian toques. There were no purchases tonight, but I
must say that I'm looking forward to the last leg of our trip when we
can buy a few items to bring home; everything is so beautiful.

So far, we've quite enjoyed Lima, which most people have told us is
the least interesting part of the country. I can't wait to see what
the rest of Peru has in store for us.

Day 0: April 28

Travel day

We encountered our first challenge early, before even getting to our
destination. Travelling for 12 hours with kids is hard enough, but add
to that the first few hours of a flu, and you've got yourself an
uphill battle against fatigue, frustration, and freak outs.

Solanne is mostly over hers; she's just got a remnant runny nose.
Derek is severely stuffed up and dealing with a sinus headache. I've
got a scratchy throat and some mild nausea. And Maïa - poor Maïa -
has a temperature and some vomiting.

And we're still just in Bogotà, waiting for our plane to leave for
Lima.

Tomorrow is another day, hopefully full of rest and relaxation. Now,
if we could just magically transport to our hotel in Lima...

Ready or not

...here we go!

We are about 14 hours away from embarking on our next family adventure. After one sleep and a few hours of last minute preparation tomorrow morning, we will be on a plane.

Destination: Peru.

And this time, we are backpacking. I mean real backpacking. Last year, when we went to Italy, we had everything in backpacks, but they were big, awkward, and heavy. This time, we are going lightweight. Our packs are small and carry-on. We are each carrying our own stuff, the kids included. We each have about three outfits (including what we're wearing), plus layers to keep us warm in the cold Andean nights. One pair of shoes, one pair of flip flops, two pairs of socks, three underwear... all of it lightweight and quick-dry.

I know that for many, this is somewhat unthinkable, and even more alien when kids are added to the mix. Derek has been keen for some time to try something like this. Peru seemed the right place to try, since we'll be doing a lot of hiking and trekking, and even some camping. We don't need fancy clothes or nice shoes, and since we'll be on the go a fair bit and won't be meeting people we already know, wearing the same thing over and over again isn't much of an issue.

The kids are excited to go hiking, to see Inka ruins, to explore glaciers, and to find out how kids on another continent live. I'm excited for the very same things.

Stay tuned as we travel through the southern half of Peru. I hope to be able to upload entries more often than I could in Italy, with its strange wi-fi rules.

The talk

We had the talk. Not the one about where babies come from; they
already have a vague notion about eggs and sperm and pregnancy.

We had the talk about what happens to a girl's body as she becomes a
woman. Maia had some questions about those little diapers she saw in
the cupboard. Frankly, I was wondering when one of them would notice
so they could ask. I promised to tell her all about it this evening
when we had more time.

I imagined some Family Ties moment with the kids scrunching up their
noses or getting really worried. I pictured awkwardness, embarassment,
or a stilted conversation.

But that's not what happened. They we fascinated. I started at the
beginning, so it wasn't long before Solanne asked what all this had to
do with the little diapers. But she was patient, as was Maia. Their
eyes were wide and interested, not at all weirded out. And, oddly,
neither was I.

So now they know what those products are for and what will happen to
their bodies in the next few years. And they aren't worried; they may
in fact be excited.

Phew.

Sent from my iPhone

What's booj-wa?

It's probably a weird way to get your kids to think about politics,
but I try to make every opportunity a teachable moment for my kids.

So tonight, when Solanne chastised me for not knowing something about
The Nutcracker, I explained to her that I never had the opportunity to
see the ballet when I was a kid. I wasn't as lucky as her.

"Why, mama?"

Well, I said, half seriously, half tongue-in-cheek, I grew up in a
working class family; I wasn't Bourgeois like you guys.

"What's booj-wa?"

And that's when I gave them a little lesson about the class system. I
started with what it means to be working class: to have just enough
money to pay for the basics like a home and food and electricity - if
you're lucky. No extra money for things like going to nice restaurants
or buying fancy dresses or going on vacations - or to the ballet.

Maïa, sensitive as she is about these things, asked, "does that mean
the roofers (who've been working on the roof on our lane all winter)
don't have extra money to do things they want?"

Probably not. Not because their wages are very low, but because they
don't get to work on stormy days or windy days or bitterly cold days.
And they don't get paid for days off like I do.

"But why not? Their work is important, too."

Indeed it is, Maïa. And that was the beginning of my lesson on
sharing, also known as socialism.

Weddings, marriage, and little girls with big dreams

The other day, Maïa mentioned that her stuffy Clicky and Solanne's stuffy Vanille get married everyday.

The girls play wedding often enough; it comes in waves. They can play it over and over again for weeks and then not think about it again for a few months. When they do play it, it's a virtual Groundhog Day of weddings: the same game gets played over and over again. The little horse, dressed in a handmade suit made of Kleenex, and the little cat dolled up in a white dress I made for her last fall, join in holy matrimony. Then they have a little party. Then, when in real life, the hard work of marriage starts, in their scenario, the wedding starts all over again.

So when Maïa mentioned that Clicky was getting married everyday, Derek lost his patience. Sidebar: Derek has found this game ever more frustrating each time it is played. He also gets frustrated at the fact that most Hollywood shows or movies portray the courtship and sometimes the wedding (or joining of one sort or another), but never the mundane, everyday work that goes into a marriage or long term relationship.

Derek sat Maïa and Solanne down and proceeded to tell them that weddings are just the beginning, not the end. It's where all the fun actually starts, he said. And you need to know, he continued, that weddings are actually a lot of hard work and very stressful to plan. But a marriage–that can be the best part. It's where you get to be with your best friend and build a life together.

But there's work to that, too, he continued. And we both told them about how when you're married, you have to make decisions with another person. You have to decide where to live, how to decorate the house, how many kids you want (if any) and how to raise those kids. You have to decide what to have for dinner, where to buy your groceries, what kind of food you eat, and who will do the cooking. You have to agree, generally, on worldviews, what's important in the grand scheme, and which things to let go of and not sweat. You have to like each other's families–or decide that you can't be near them. You have to agree on how to spend money, who pays for what, one pot of money or two, or three, whether to give to charities and how much, whether buying green or organic is important enough to give up other things. And the list, of course, goes on.

And when you don't agree, kids, I said, you have to figure out a way to work through it.

"But you don't fight," the kids said to us.

They're right. But we do disagree, not often, but we do.

I gave the example of the buffet in our livingroom. Those who have been to our place in the past year have seen it: a beautiful old piece, stripped down to the bare maple, without glass, without a bottom drawer. It took us months, but we finally agreed on an interior colour (dark olive, almost black). But we have not yet agreed on what colour to stain the wood, so it remains bare, nakedly awaiting our decision. Maïa asked what colour I want it. I told her I want it the colour of our floor. Derek's eyes grew wide in surprise: "I thought you wanted it orangey like our diningroom set."

"No, I want it golden because all the wood in our house is golden. You want it ashy."

"No. I just didn't want it orangey."

"There you go," said Maïa, "You figured it out. It wasn't so hard."

She's right. And I have moments of wondering if the fact that Derek and I don't fight and hardly argue is a good example for them. How will they learn how to work things out with a partner? How will they figure out how to navigate through conflict if there isn't much to watch between us...

And in the middle of my musings, I was brought back to reality: Solanne and Maïa yelling at each other, and Derek intervening with his expert conflict-resolution skills.

Ah yes: sisters. They don't need me to teach them how to deal with conflict. They're doing that for each other.