Machu Picchu, Almost In Glorius Technicolour

After a groggy bus ride at six o'clock in the morning up the winding switchbacks leading to the entrance gate which I pass with little delay, I round the corner along the paved entrance to the breathtaking wonder of the world that is the Lost City of The Incas, Machu Picchu.

Confronted by astounding stone terraces 2000 metres above the river Urubamba that froths and churns and backed by the iconic image of the imposing mountain of Wayna Picchu, I take out my camera to capture the moment. Flicking the lens cover open, I position the jaw dropping landscape in the viewfinder and press the shutter.

Beeeeeeep. Battery empty.

Below is the last image that was taken on the dying battery, unaware of it's impending end; a worthwhile shot in the central plaza of the pathologically ugly Aguas Calientes, posing with a tacky Inca statue. A fine alternative, I'm sure you'll agree, to world class ancient mountaintop monuments.

Aguas Calientes, Peru
17th November 2009

A Temporary Agreement With Death

The woman in the seat next to me jerks awake as all four wheels of the bus skid to a halt over the dusty earth road, coming to a stop inches away from the radiator grille of a large blue truck that has performed the same procedure in the opposite direction around the blind bend that hugs the cliff face. Glancing out of the window, the tyres of our vehicle have drifted within inches of the crumbling outside edge of the road that drops away vertically 150 metres to the tumbling river at the bottom of the valley.

An elderly lady lets fly with a screeching tirade of obscenity at the driver, opening the partition between the passengers and the cab, making sure that she will be heard. I can't say I blame her; for the last hour the bus has been flung with incresing optimism around such corners, seeming from my window seat vantage point on the side of the unprotected drop that we are launcing out into space, destination riverbed.

Over the course of the bus ride between Huancayo and Ayacucho I have been, without doubt, about as terrified as possible at the prospect of imminent death on the high, twisting single track dirt road, punctuated by passing places which allow vehicles to knock wing-mirrors as they pass, the outside vehicle teetering on the edge. Prior to leaving Huancayo all conversation pertaining to the route with locals was met with sobering admissions that the journey was very dangerous and buses were frequently lost, but as it was at least an hour quicker than the higher, safer alternative path it was accepted as the choice of the local bus company.

Staring like a shell shocked war veteren into the distance in the safety of a bus stop in a town beyond the mountain pass, a delay was attributed to the large pile of rocks that the ayudantes unloaded from the rear luggage locker below the passenger compartment, presumably to stop the back wheels skidding out over the precipice on the corners; a retrospectively almost reassuring measure.

Ayacucho, Peru

10th November 2009

Who's A Pretty Boy Then?

Huancayo, Peru
8th November 2009

Getting High in Trains

Rocking gently out of Lima, the classic train route to Huancayo crawls steadily up stunning mountain scenery along a narrow gauge overlooking precipitous drops.

Options are for the "classic" (re: cramped and uncomfortable) or "tourist" (reclining seats, glass carriage roofs, bar inhabited by girating Peruvian college tourism students etc.) cars, guess which one I ended up in. Almost worth the saving of three or four quid...but not quite.

Topping out at over 15,000 feet above sea level, the brief exit from the train permitted by the staff in order to take photos of the second highest railway station in the world (damn those ambitious Chinese) is a slightly light-headed affair, feeling throughly slapped around by the altitude.

Huancayo, Peru

7th November 2009

Fair Trade; Fairly Obvious?

If you every actually try to sit down and work out who is trying to do what in the area of ethical trading, you'll be due a headache. The increasing number of branded non-profit organisations and NGOs is making consumers who buy ethically sourced products very confused indeed.

My initial mission to "Come out to Latin America to work in Fair Trade" is an admission in this confusion itself; Fair Trade is but one brand amongst a range that are out there representing ethical trading and sourcing, admittedly with more profile than others. Recently it has enjoyed a rise in awareness and publicity with the partnering of various large companies such as Cadbury, Starbucks and Sarah Lee all sourcing Fair Trade commodities. However, many people feel that Fair Trade has diverged from its original purpose with these developments and it was very interesting to read an interview with one of the founders, Frans Van Der Hoff, regarding the evolution of Fair Trade on the Equal Exchange blog. To quote:

"The interview couldn’t have come at a better time. Consumer confusion about the goals and impact of Fair Trade vs. other brands and certifications is at an all-time high. And that should come as no surprise. The certifying agencies (FLO International and Transfair USA) have watered down the purpose and integrity of the movement, aiming for dollars over mission, breadth over depth, as they lower standards to increase the number of products available on the shelves...

...somewhere along the line, the certifiers began marketing Fair Trade as a poverty alleviation strategy, rather than an economic transformation model as it was originally intended. Alleviation means, “to lessen (pain, for example); to make more bearable.” Fair Trade was actually created to provide producers with a basic level of security, a social net to raise people out of abject conditions so that they would have the ability to approach their situations with more complex strategies, not to alleviate, but to change their economic conditions.

The original founders of Fair Trade knew that economic conditions don’t change by extending charity. They understood the far more impactful goal of supporting farmer organizations so that together, the farmers can tackle the myriad issues which will enable them to create better conditions for themselves. Organized farmers build economic and political power, create social programs, lobby governments, enlist the collaboration of others by building solidarity networks. This is the true power (and potential) of Fair Trade."

It is interesting to see how an organisation that is seen to have achieved so much is to some extent becoming a victim of its own success, and how the directors will seek to capitalise on their successes without comprimising the basis of the brand. One key difference for me is the divergence of seeking to support farmer organisations and the social stability and benefits that they bring, over increasing awareness of a brand, much as any other corporation with less ethical designs on sourcing would.

Lima, Peru
5th Novermber 2009

A Spot Of Culture

Museums. The domain of childhood boredom and monotony. Not so the National Museum in Lima; battles, alliances, empires, sacrifices, far flung trading routes and the fabric and intracacies of society all pass before you as you wander the halls. I suppose I've grown into the concept of impressive displayed artefacts woven into a story that defines our best guess at a long gone civilization.

Especially when the civilization makes ceramics depicting what Bill Clinton could only describe as "lewd acts"; it's great to know that as long ago as 2500 years they were getting busy with the kind of things that you wouldn't chat to your parents about over dinner. Or, in fact, ever.

Lima, Peru
4th November 2009

K2, The Taliban and Tea

I've just finished "Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortensen and David Oliver Relin, and it was well worth the effort. It's a biography written by a journalist who has followed climber-turned-humanitarian Greg Mortensen for the last two years. Greg is the founder of the Central Aisa Institute (CAI), whose primary aim is to provide a balanced education for children, primarily in Pakistan and Afghanistan, a need that was recognised when he stumbled, lost and exhausted, across a rural village in Pakistan after a failed climbing attempt on K2.

The book chronicles his personal journey from making an ill-advised promise to build a school to a village elder to rushing around Central Asia maintaining fifty-five schools and expanding the program. Particularly interesting is the effect of the events of September 11th on his quest, and the struggles and alliances created with the Muslim influence in the region; if anything, it's a great example of open-mindedness and tolerence, qualities sadly lacking in the media for the last decade.

There's a website (the institute is still trying to raise money, after all) and if you get the chance, buy the book through it as a proportion of the sale goes to fund the CAI's projects. Inspiring stuff, I'd reccommend it to everyone.

Lima, Peru

2nd November 2009