Just another manic South American country...

And so, it came to pass that I was well enough to start enjoying the new city I will be calling home for the best part of a month. This week I finally started my bar shifts here at Loki, got involved with the volunteer programme they run here, started running again, finally managed to get out on one of those hikes the city and its surround are most famous for, oh, and went shopping for fancy dress outfits and halloween costumes.
The volunteer project here is fairly similar to the one I was involved in in Paraguay. We travel to the suburbs of the city to provide basic English lessons to local children whose schools don't offer the subject. In return the children get fed, and hopefully pick up enough English to help them out when they ineveitably need to work in the tourist trade (Cuzco's main source of income by leaps and bounds). The work is enjoyable, although its a much easier project than anything else I've been involved in before... partially because the time committment is less, partly because I'm working with an age group of children I have a lot of experience with and partly because Cuzco just doesn't have poverty like I saw in Bolivia or Paraguay. These children are happy, well fed, well loved and properly clothed... a far cry from some of what I've experienced over the last 4 months. However, the project is enjoyable, and after a week I've already moved into a supervisory role within the charity and were starting to build a logical curriculum and putting a little bit more stucture in place with the English the children are learning. Its also a fantastic way too see a bit more of the real Peru, as opposed to just sitting in the tourist areas.
The bar shifts here are much the same as those in La Paz, although as the outfit here is run by women instead of men the whole thing is a bit more professional, and we actually finish at 1am when we're supposed to, insead of the 5.30 that was fast becoming the norm in Bolivia. I really like my new workmates, and have been on the backpacker trail long enough now that I frequently meet people who know other people I know (my firned Katlin for example was in La Paz the week before I arrived and know all my friends from there), which is refreshing as you don't have to introduce yourself from scratch ("aren't you one of the people who was there the night Alen went insane with the machete?!"). The management team here seem equally lovely, if not quite as crazy, and are just as well known around the local bars as we were in La Paz, which is good for my budget!!
Which brings me back to the city. Cuzco is a whole other kind of gorgeous... quite unlike anything else I've seen in South America. As you wonder around you feel privileged to be standing in such historical beauty. That's not to say there aren't parts of it that aren't poor, but with such a huge influx of tourism in recent years (you can fly direct here from the UK) the poverty is incomparable to what can be witnessed elsewhere. Yesterday, being a sensible rehabilitate yourself slowly kind of gal, I walked up to the local ruins 'Sachsaywaman' (above) and along the ridge surronding the city to Cuzco's own big white Jesus. Naturally this turned into a 6 mile hike in the midday sun, but it truly was beautiful and I enjoyed so much to be surrounded by beauty the like of which I hadn't seen since Rio. Naturally today I'm shattered, but I'm sure it wont be long before I'm out to hike again!
Luckily this week the hostel got hammocks so I've been chilling out in the glorious sunshine reading my book to recouperate... this life experience stuff is hard! Also, on a side note, I LOVE hammocks, and am wondering where one will fit in my room at home...
So now Loki is gearing up for Halloween... the biggest event on the backpacker calendar. And the bar already looks like a giant pumpkin threw up all over it, there are daily showings of horror movies, everything is either orange or black. Very excited for Sunday!!!

Cuzco and the lonliest night so far...

It became very apparent about 3 hours into the trip to Cuzco that something was wrong, and beyond cursing the name of the lying travel agent that promised me the bus would have a toilet, there was little I could do till I got to Cuzco and found Loki. Once there I was registered as staff straight away (many thanks to my friends in La Paz who made this possible), and actually started to feel better meeting my new work mates and mixing with the residents. The hostel seemed very nice and the bar exciting and fun to work in. What little I had seen of the town was beautiful and I was excited to have arrived. I had a fairly early night due to a tender tummy, which became an incredibly tender tummy by 2am, and by late the next day it became obvious a doctor was going to have to be called. Taken into hospital on Monday I spent the night having been diagnosed with a parasite and gastroenteritis. Being taken into hospital is something of a backpackers worst fear, having to seek medical help in a third world country never being the dream. In actual fact the hospital was very clean, the nurses friendly and professional, my doctor fluent in English and I had sky tv, my mobile phone and access to a laptop. And a huge bonus was that the staff handled my insurance claim for me so I didn't have to pay anything and had only a 5 minute phonecall to make the next day. While I would never recommend hospital in Peru I would have to say it was a long way off my worst fears realised.
That said, the night was long and lonely, and exceptionally painful in parts, and I will never be able to thank my mum enough for sitting through the night with me sending regular texts to keep me company. For no matter how grown up an exotic traveller I am, that night I blimming well wanted my mum.
I was discharged yesterday afternoon and spent most of the day in bed. Today I've been for a short walk around what does indeed seem to be a gorgeous city but was suprised at how incredibly weak I feel and could only manage an hour. I know it will take a little while to recover from such a nasty illness and so I'm looking forward to exploring Cuzco in bitesize chunks, and starting my first shift tomorrow. Glad this happened now when I've got 4 weeks to recover for my Inca Trail!! And in the words of my father, I guess I mustn't fuss as its just 'standard travellers fare'!
Another experience marked off on the list. Another one of a million reasons to be thankful to my amazing mum. Another city to (eventually) explore. And another bar to work behind.
Bring on Cuzco...

Puno and the Floating Islands

My arrival in Puno (left) was only a few hours after leaving Copa, the boarder crossing into Peru being very stressfree and made all the more enjoyable by the company of a young frenchman called Nicholas. Puno was much bigger than Copa, and much bigger than I had been expecting. Peru was also instantly much friendlier than Bolivia had been, and no less than three locals insisted on helping me find accomodation for the night and my bearings, which was very sweet and only a tiny bit really annoying. My first priority in Puno was to see the famous floating islands, made totally from reeds and anchored in the Peruvian side of the lake. I was able to hop on a boat within the hour and very much enjoyed a few hours spent bouncing about on the tiny, springy islands, each one of which at least 20 people call home. The talk we had about the islands was very interesting, and only slightly smattered with the old "Titi for Peru Kaka for Bolivia" type jokes (shockingly the other way round in Bolivia... hmm). The name of the Lake actually means 'stone coloured Jaguar' in Ketchuan, apparently the shape of the lake looks like one when viewed from above but I'll be darned if I can see it...
After a tour of the island we had visited and some mandatory 'local craft' buying. We got a chance to travel to another island on a reed boad (Left) oared by some young men wearing shirts so white they must be hiding a washing machine somewhere on those islands...
The whole trip was great fun, if a tad commercialised.
After this I decided to treat myself to a great big geeky indulgence, and at the behest of the guidebook who claimed public transport to be too complicated for the silly westerner in Puno paid a ransom to a taxi driver to go and see the oldest vessel on Lake Titikaka, the Yavari. Now as someone who may have a vauge interest in boat slash ship related activities it was a huge point of pride for me that the Yavari is not only British built, but furthermore was built by chaps from Liverpool. I spent a full hour with a dopey grin on my face being shown around the ship by a bemused Peruvian lad, who was impressively prepared for the massive amount of questions I asked, and laughed out loud at my delight at them having a framed letter from Prince Philip asking about the ships' renovation. A lovely afternoon to be spent being throughly British, and the ship was gorgeous and bautifully restored. Annoyed with the exorbitent fare to get to the Yarvari I rsked the public transport to get back, which cost a whopping 13p and was much less coplex than that of La Paz. Oh well, you live you learn. The rest of the day was spent wondering around the juice markets and indulging in the gorgous hot chocolate for roadside cafes in Puno. And the next day i was off... seven hours to Cuzco and a new Loki experience...

Copacobana and the Island of the Sun

And so my bus left Loki at 8am last Thursday morning and I got my last view of La Paz across the frozen tundra like expanse of El Alto before departing the city all together. A mere three hours later I was on the edge of Lake Titikaka standing in the picturesque town of Copa (see right) and sorting out a boat to take me across so that I could spent the night on the Inca- ruin rich Isla Del Sol. Job done and a mere hour later I boarded a boat across to the island. On the hour and a hlaf journey across I met a group of american teenagers who were travelling together in a massive group of 18, which was having the predictable effect of making them all hate each other. When I fist saw them they were sat in a circle on the beach in Copa taking it in turns to hold a burning branch (a la every american teen film you've ever seen) and telling each other everything the other members of the group had done to annoy them... hilarious to over hear, "and this morning Hillary used my hair gel and (getting higher pitched with each syllable) DIDNT. EVEN. ASK!!". However. the girls all turned out to be lovely, and I have nothing but sympathy for their situation, for as a solo traveller I can all too easily appreciate the restraints travelling with even one other person might put upon you, let alone another 17!! The island was as beautiful as the guidebooks had promised, and with a long day of travelling behind me I mustered the energy to go and see the Inca steps (well... I'd already climbed up them without realising because I'm a bimbo, but I went back and saw them again and photographed them to make my visit official), and to hike to the top of the island to watch the sunset (see left) an absolute must on the Island of the Sun. After a delicious dinner of fish caught straight from the lake I then retired to my quarters to enjoy a double bed in a room to myself for the first time since leaving England. Sounds sad, but for me it was very exciting. I'd also got an extremely good price for the room, which I can now only assume was a direct result of the landlady feeling guilty about lying about the residence having a flushing toilet or hot shower.
The next day I was up to watch the sunrise (another must- see left again) and then decided to take a boat to the North of the Islands to see where the more impressive Inca Ruins were (you know, the ones you don't miss by accident while walking over them...) . For some reason I wasn't feeling my best when I got up that morning (actually hadn't been feeling great for a few days... more on that later) and was unsure whether or not to hike back from the North of the island having been informed by a local it would take me 3 hours. I decided to choose when I got there and hopped on a boat to the North about 10 am. The ruins in the North were an hours hike from the port, and well worth it (see right). Especially as my American friends were there and I muscled in on their tour for free. It turned out they had hiked from the South that morning and assured me the walk was a solid 4 hours hike. However by this stage I was feeling much better for all the fresh air, and decided I didn't want to miss the views and essential Isla Del Sol experience of the hike and made my way back via the path that crosses the isle. The hike actually took a little over an hour and a half (although I do walk fast and am acclimatised to the altitude so probably had an edge) and was well worth the effort as the views were beautiful. I made my way back to my hostel, collected my kit, made my way down the Inca Stairs (only a moron wouldn't notice they were CLEARLY Inca) and was back on a boat to Copa to arrive by six. I had decided to spend a night in the little seaside town, partly because I liked it, and partly because I didnt want to arrive in my next stop of Puno in the middle of the night. Wondering through the town I was highly delighted and entertained to find a sign on a little cafe that said 'Cheesecake', and for those of you that know the Llama song, and my love of it, will understand why I spent several minutes photographing said sign (I feel a video montage coming on). The cafe also had a sign in the window claiming to buy english books and as I had recently almost finished Harry Potter 5 (Unable to finish it I frustratingly discovered in Isla Del Sol- see photo below) I decided to swap the cafe the damaged book for a slice of the famous cheesecake. Now, after 3 months here, I really should have known better. Whenever South Americans try to do traditional dishes for westerners they are ALWAYS appauling (the amount of times I've been seduced into ordering Lasagne only to be appauled at the foul taste in my mouth suggests I have some kind of memory issue). The cheese cake was sadly no different. In fact not so much cheese cake as a cake with a vaguely cheesy flavour. Nevertheless it was an entertaining evening, and when I left Copa for Puno the next day it was with nothing but a positive impression of a friendly little Bolivian town.

The last days of Loki (La Paz)

(Photo: L to R- With Oliver the owner of the local Mexican resturant, me, Gemma, Jack the manager of Wild Rover, Ross and Ed)

And so I returned for the jungle to work 'one' final shift behind the bar I had come to love, leaving me just enough time to spend a day shopping with my new friend Gemma, which aside from being an absolute brilliant laugh led to the two of us puchasing MATCHING LLAMA TOE RINGS. My personal favourite purchase of the trip so far. Other highlights of my last four days in La Paz included a delicious dinner at a local restaurant called Sol y Luna, where my friend Shaun is about to become the manager (and therefore cost almost nothing) with the gang who went to the jungle together and my friends Gemma, Ross and Rebekah from behind the bar at Loki. Primarily notable for the fact that we managed to consume several bottles of gorgeous Chilean red wine before returniong to Loki for what was supposed to be a quiet evening and instead saw a packed out bar and Gemma and I stepping up to work the remainder of the night shift tooooooootally sober. Luckily we sobered up pretty fast, and the attention of the night was rather off us when our manager got unbelieveably drunk and started experimenting with the idea of flying ashtrays. Not a success, and with the help of Hans the chef Gemma and I managed to get Cam safely into bed and away from the unsuspecting punters. The next day saw a football match against local rival hostel the Wild Rover, which Loki was sorely defeated in, but with three girls on our team to the none on theirs I consider it a win of principal, equality and all that jazz...
And that night saw my actual final shift, and ladies night, where all the young men in the hostel are encouraged to dress up in order to obtain free drinks. The night was mainly lost on me, retiring to the other side of the bar at about half ten after the 'dream team' of staff working with me had each bought me a different alcoholic beverage and I deemed myself unfit to keep serving. After that however, there was still a Loki La Paz tradition to be had. On the final night of each bar staff's service it is traditional to be 'Tommy Knockered'. A drink invented by Cam of the 'flying ashtrays' fame, the Tommy Knocker has been banned in every bar in La Paz, apart from Loki and even then only for leaving staff. The drink consists of a pint glass containing a double vodka red-bull, with a shot of Tequila balanced against a shot of Jager on the top (see photo below of Zoe doing hers on her last night). The idea being that you pull out the tequila shot, causing the jager to drop into the mix below and then you down the lot. I did mine in the fastest time recorded at Loki La Paz (not suprising for those of you that have seen me down a drink before), however (also not suprisingly) I was in bed a mere half an hour later, which to be honest was probably for the best.
My last days in La Paz (I had left myself a 24 hour buffer before my bus left in case I was really sick) passed with revisiting my favourite places in the city and saying goodbye to friends, and before I knew it I was on my 8am bus on my way to Lake Titikaka.


Things I learned in La Paz:

• The name is ironic
• One year olds are not only cute, they are amazing
  
• Drinking at altitude is dangerous
• Running at altitude is almost as dangerous
• The most unusual people can become your closest friends
• If you enjoy what you're doing working a 50 hour week becomes much easier
• You can make a network of friends very fast
• Tattoos are contagious (No mum, I promise I haven´t got one, just everyone else did)
• Where you come from is irrelevant (unless taking the mickey out of someones accent... Eh?!)
• Few things in life are better than a REALLY hot shower
• Beer tastes better on a roof
• English people will NEVER tan properly, its time to give that dream up
• Mashed carrot gets everywhere
• Six weeks is a long time when you're travelling, and leaving is hard...

But... time for a new adventure...

Welcome to the jungle (we've got fun and games)

So, for the measely cost of 125 English pounds I was able to purchase flight tickets to and from Rurrenabaque in the Amazon, and a three day two night tour of the jungle, led by a bonafide Amazon dweller (tour guide). So at the lovely and enjoyable time of 5am (or Navy O Clock as I prefer to call it) I was on my way to La Paz airport with fellow Loki workers Chris and Charlie, and new friends Anna, Katie and Pete (Dirty Ozzys the lot of them). Unfortunately the flight was delayed by rain, but when we saw the size of the plane and the 'runway' at the Rurre end (glorified flattened mud) we were more than happy to have been delayed half an hour in our arrival. Rocking up at the tiny airport (loved it) in Rurre we were greeted by Mark and Tara, fellow travellers who would be joining us for our adventure and our "yes your tour guide will definately be English speaking.... ha ha ha" tour guide, Mario. Shockingly he spoke no English. Either that or it makes his life easier to pretend he doesn't and is actually a toothless evil genius. So, I was given the role of trip translator as my Spanish was the best of the group, which is flattering and impressive as I only really started learning so recently and havent been having lessons, but was very tiring when I had to translate the days itinerary at 6am each day. However, I do love speaking the language and was keen to get in some practise and only made one mistake of note when I told the group we would only see anacondas if they had had good dreams (sueno), when the guide actually said we would see them if we were lucky (swerte). Day one started with a three hour bone- jolting trip in the back of the 4 by 4, a vehicle that had clearly had a hard life as each time we went through a puddle (numerous) the splashback entered the car and by the time we arrived at the rendezvouz with the boat we were all coated in mud. Luckily we were excited for our adventure, and pre- resigned to the fact that we would be dirty for the next few days, and we hopped out the car to the local village 'restaurant' in high spirits to partace in very nice food surrounded by a menagerie of unusual pets. I can now honestly say I have partaken in a meal while there were 2 hogs, a monkey and a massive and terrifying heron in the vicinity. Post animal farm lunch we were off in the boat that was to be our main method of transportation for the next 3 days, and a delight to be sat in after the rough road into the national park (Bolivian don't really do roads, presumably a side effect of the tourist trade here growing faster than the economic infrastructure can realsitically support- top tip for Bolivia, pay for the most expensive bus going because its the only one that even might have suspension!). In the boat we were lucky enough to catch our first look at the locals; and by that I mean spider monkeys, alligators, camen, campivaras (perfect pet to keep our new coatamundi company I recon Kathryn) and trees full of Birds of Paradise. The anaimals were literally everywhere and it was such an immense pleasure to see them in their natural habitat.
It took about three hours on the river to reach our camp (the national park only being travesible via Amazon tributaries), during which point we were lucky enough to see a nest of baby alligators (and our guide demonstrated that ecotourism was his watchword by picking one up... a theme that continued throughout, the more deadly it seemed the keener he was to handle it) and our guide managed to tempt spider monkeys onto our boat. The camp itself was perfect... exactly what an Amazon camp should be, wood huts and mosquito screens, and after such a long day we all fell into our beds after another good dinner at the awesome time of 7.30pm! I had one of the best sleeps I've had in months, finding the immense noise of the nighttime Amazon nothing compared to the joys of the Loki staff room. I actually loved sleeping in the jungle, and found the noises of hundreds of animals going about their nightly buisness incredibly relaxing, others on my trip didn't feel the same way, finding the early morning Howler monkeys that lived in the camp trees too much at 5am.
The next day saw another early start, and after dodging the howler monkeys morning ablutions to get to the breakfast hut we were all given wellies so we could go anaconda hunting in the swamps. During the four hour trek we were incredibly fortunate and saw several black and green mambas and one anaconda! Now being a relatively intelligent being (I like to think anyway) it seems logical to me that a wild animal wouldn't particularly enjoy being surrounded so when we found the anaconda I stood myself firmly behind the guide. Unfortunately this line of reasoning didnt seem to occur to everyone else in the group and they spanned around it. Now I was right in my reasoning, and according to the guide later (when my heart had restarted) a surrounded snake will attack. Me. Yep, the anaconda sized up its audience and decided I provided the poath of least resistance and started to circle my feet. Now if this ever happens to you every instinct you posses will be telling you to run. Three jungle worn Bolivians shouting 'DONT MOVE!!!' (including 'I dont speak english' Mario) were just about enough to quash this instinct and with my heart beating a mile a minute the guides moved the group away and the snake backed down. An important reminder that we really were in the wild, and the animals ruled the roost. A further reminder of this came later in the day when we heard a soft woof woofing noise and the group were immediately hushed and then rushed out of the locale pretty sharpish, apparently a wild jaguar was very close by. The four hour hike was definately very enjoyable, and wading through the swamps in leaky wellies was very much up my street, although I was secretly glad after my experience not to see anymore anacondas I know we were so lucky to see one!! After lunch back at the camp we were off for a spot of pirhana fishing, and between the eight of us managed to catch two pirhanas and two catfish; awesome to see wild pirhanas (or rather feed them as I was rubbish st the fishing and they just ate the meat off from round my hook), especially as I used to be one who lived in the Amazon! Unfortunately I lost all my pirhana fishing photos trying to download to the hostel computer upon my return, but will endeavour to get copies off friends....
After pirhana fishing we were off to watch the sunset which was unfortunately obscured by clouds (not as unfortunate as the fact sunrise which we got up at Navy o Clock to see the next morning was obscured by clouds too...) but still pretty. And then on the journey back we did alligator watching in the dark watching their eyes flash red, creepy but fun. The final day we went swimming in the river with the pink dolphins, which sounds insane as there were alligators and camen on the banks, and pirhanas in the water, but we were assured we were safe if the dolphins were there, and it was amazing to be near pink river dolphins and see them play. In retrospect the whole trip could be percieved to be incredibly dangerous, and I'm glad I did it, but feel the experience will be a once in a lifetime one. And despite all the ominous warnings about bug bites (and there were lots of bugs!) I only came back with one mozzy bite on my elbow, and an ant bite on my bottom due to a typical Alex not looking where she's crouching moment.
The return journey was also as bumpy as the way out, and we were please to get back to Rurrenabaque and find ourselves a hostel, which was very accomodating at the steep rate of 2.50 pounds a night!! I really liked Rurrenabaque and found it to be charming! I could have spent longer there, and the flight back to la paz the next day was educational as the pilots let us come and sit in the cockpit mid flight which was very cool!
The jungle has to go down as one of my trip highlights to date, but I was happy to get back to Loki for my first proper hot shower in four days and my final few days in the crazy city that is La Paz....

Oh yes. And I did all this wearing an Indiana Jones hat.

Con machete, sin zapatos...

(PHOTO- Left to right: Brendon, Leah, Cam, Matt, Dom, Alan, Ross and yours truly on the roof of Loki Hostel enjoying the 'offensive Sunday' BBQ)

So... this blog requires a little bit of background information to contextualise my crazy La Paz world...
This week several of my friends left the hostel for good. Living in such tight quarters (8 to a room) we had all become very close in the month since I arrived, and the loss of Dom, Leah and Matt has been felt very keenly in the staff room. In order to remedy this melancholy the ever wise management here at Loki decided that a several hour, non stop alcohol- fest would be the absolute best way of making everyone feel better. It should be said at this stage that I really like the management here which consists primarily of three blokes; Osgar the hostel owner, Alan the manager, and Cam the bar manager and my direct boss. All three heavily tattooed and mawhawked they make an imposing first impression, but every-day travelling teaches you a little something new about not judging people, and the longer I spend here the more I can appreciate that these are wonderful guys, who (normally) really look after the staff and have simply made some rather controversial lifestyle choices. Oh, and they're all raging alcoholics, but it takes all sorts. Anyway, there is one exception to this rule of lovelyness, and that would be any situation that involves Alan and tequila. Alan is one of the most interesting people I have ever met, at only 21 he has enough life experience and tattoos to pass as mid thirties, he speaks six languages, and knows all the words to all the dirtiest songs in the world. A good fun bloke to be around by all accounts, until the tequila comes out, which is what happened in our 'we're sad because our friends have left- fest' on Tuesday. Unfortunately 21 years appears not to be enough time to realise that when you're a 6ft 4 Slovenian just because you find weilding a machete in the staff room at 4am to be hilarious, not everybody else will feel the same way. It turned out that he had only come to wake us all up because he had made too many toasties breaking into the kitchen after hours, and felt we should all join him to watch Zombieland and eat them. Not a terrifying prospect, but con machete more than enough for one night.

This week also saw my friend Ross drive a quad bike off a (small) cliff, and somehow come out unharmed by having the presence of mind to jump off half way down... undoubtedly lucky to be alive, he was unbelieveably lucky not to break anything, and instead provided us all with a hilarious visual by coming back wearing a suit covered head to toe in mud, having worn it insisting that the sport of quad biking should be classy and suave (no alcohol entered into that decision either). Rallying like a true Irish man Ross persuaded our boss to let him have the night off 'to recover', and promptly sat on the other side of the bar and drank his body weight while still wearing the suit. I decided not to join the guys for quad biking, feeling lucky enough to have survived death road the week before unharmed. This turned out to be the correct choice as I decided to bimble round the city as an alternative activity, exercised all the grace and physical prowess I am known for and walked smack bang into a lampost causing an elderly Ketchuan woman to nearly get hit by a taxi as she stood doubled up in the street wetting herself laughing at me. Thank you folks I'm here all week. By no means my first bump in La Paz either, as the week before, visiting the bizarrely westernised cinema here to see Inception (FINALLY!!! Awesome film!!), I purchased enough ice cream to fill a small cement mixer and then promptly face planted into it while walking up the stairs into the cinema, which luckily gave Brendon and Dom a laugh, but also served to take down the swelling where my face had hit the floor. See mum, you're worried travelling will change me, but it seems blimming unlikely so far!

Apart from my crazy Loki life, this week sees the end of the third of my four weeks in the orphanage. I'm sure all reading will be relieved to know that I am much more careful with the babies than I am with myself. And to date have only dropped one of them. From not very high. And she was fine. This week will forever remain in my memory as the 'week of Jurassic Park'. Oh yes. The one year olds learned a new trick this week, in order to recreate the effect at home follow these simple steps. 1) Take a small child who only last ate about one hour ago, 2) Beg and plead for the child to open thier mouth and accept a few mouthfuls of liquidised carrot 3) get lulled into a sense of false security by the babies being quite well behaved and eating the majority of their food (or, more accurarately storing it in their cheeks), 4) listen to the warning hiccough of a baby with an eveil plan and four liquidised carrots in thier mouth 5) TAKE COVER!! As a la Dennis Quaid in Jurrasic Park with the tiny spraying dinosaur the ENTIRE locale gets completely covered in carrot as said child blows a massive rasberry. The best part of one of the babies having started this is that it took roughly 5 minutes for the 'monkey see monkey do' effect to properly kick in, and then it was like riding Catanka Canyon at Alton Towers as all ten babies being fed in a nice communal circle replicated the effect. Excellent. How that little Ketchuan woman would have laughed at me as I stood by the side of the road covered head to toe in mashed carrot, trying desperately to look normal as I flagged down a collectivo to take me home. The man wearing the suit sat next to me for the ride back was delighted as well, unfortunately I dont know the spanish for 'I'm sorry about all the mashed carrot on your lapels'.

Today was yet another eventful day at the orphanage. Last week my fellow volunteer Mark and I had the idea of buying a paddling pool for the babies, and, having agreed to split the cost, approached the management to get permission. We were told to go ahead, it was an excellent idea, only to arrive today and find two pools set up in the garden area. Excited and impressed that anything had happened so fast in Bolivia we were keen to get the babies into the pool for a bit of splashy fun. Unfortunately our plans were foiled when it was explained to us that 'yes it was an excellent idea, but your babies are too young to go swimming and these pools are for the older children'. Now, I'll be the first to admit I know naff all about babies, but I do know about swimming, and I know the sooner a child goes in the water the better their confidence in it will be thier whole life. This was paid testament to later when they put the 4 and 5 year olds in the pool and their was a lot of crying and reluctance to play. Prior to this however, Mark and I had decided to be mavericks, citing the small print that just because the babies werent allowed to swim didn't ment they couldn't splash. So one by one we bought the babies out to put their hands in the water and have a bit of a play. We were totally on the money and the babies loved the pools (having never seen anything like that before). One little boy in particular, Ruben, who I was holding, was enjoying himself so much I rolled up his sleeves so he could put more of his hands in. He had the biggest smile on his face ever, but unfortunately as it was a soft sided pool he leaned over so far he got his dungarees all wet. Oops. I went to move him back from the water and he made to climb in, so looking down at his massively smiley little face, and his soaking dungarees, Mark and I made the executive decision to be really naughty, take the childrens shoes off (sin zapatos) and put them in the pool fully clothed. They absolutley loved it, splashing and playing with each other. Luckily the mamita was more amused than anything when we brought back two soaking wet but incredibly smiley children. Next week the petition startes to get them all in there, it would be a great end to my month at the orphanage!