Closing weeks by Conor McMonagle

As we near the end of our trip it seems that it’s the little things that were irritating at the beginning that we have come to love and are getting us through. This week brought us our last English lesson, final trip to Coscoma, a 3 day fiesta in a neighbouring town and a relaxing day out to the river.

In the penultimate English lesson we could see clearly the change in understanding and ability, not to mention the fact that hello and goodbye are spreading like wildfire in a town that were hesitant about our arrival at the beginning. This week in the class we taught body parts, animals, colours and numbers. It gives you a weird sense of accomplishment when you have 25 kids all shouting `big nose´ at you. Although it has been difficult teaching adults and kids with no previous English, and myself with limited Spanish, I believe the most challenging part will be saying goodbye.

Ryan teaching english

In our second last trip to Coscoma Marcelo, our in country volunteer and my partner for this weeks guided learning, cooked meals for all the elderly people we had been helping. That afternoon after completing Don Carmelo’s path we all had a fitting lunch together amongst the clouds to say chow. I think the thing I’ll miss about the trips to Coscoma is the startling views there and back. When you’ve walked past the towering mountains and never ending trees numerous times they become somewhat normal, like the sky above and the earth below you forget how staggering they are until you catch a glimpse of something that reminds you just how breathe taking they are.

Marcelo helping out tio Fidel Angola

The three day music festival in Chillamani brought a town that can sometimes seem derelict to life. People everywhere were laughing and dancing. When we first arrived on the Friday night, my peers and I felt slightly uncomfortable, (3 very tall white males tend to stand out in a town that hasn’t seen many ‘gringos’), but this was soon dissolved as people were coming up every 2 minutes to welcome us to Bolivia, asking us to dance and saying how good it is that we are here after we told them we were with ICS. But I think it truly sunk in how welcome we were in Bolivia, in Coripata even was on the Sunday when we attended the festival with our amazing host parents, people were constantly asking them who are the white people and their response every time was ‘they are our sons’.

Ana, Fran, Lorenna, Ryan, Harry. Chillamani.

On the Saturday all the volunteers plus a few friends we had made in town travelled down to a nearby river, the river was a small knife cutting through enormous mountains surrounding us. After swimming and taking a couple of pictures… see below… we had a simple lunch sitting by the river and it started to sink in we were going home soon. I think, and I hope my peers agree, that it’s the people and the times we spend together that I’ll miss most about this adventure. Although I am looking forward to a fry up.

Down by the river. David, Kelsey, Conor, Guimer, Harry, Indiana, Ryan, Fran, Lorena, Ana.