I love the randomness of travelling! Today I had a chance
encounter that has the potential to be a huge help to Globalteer in terms of
fundraising and met a genuinely nice person, in many ways a like-minded soul.
To begin at the beginning … after breakfast at the hotel this
morning, I set off to walk up Calvary Hill … but it seems I’m not destined to
ascend to religious heights. I got to the top of one street, a lung-busting
walk in itself – remember that Lake Titicaca
is at 3812 metres (12,507 feet) above sea level – to find I was only about half
way up and the actual pathway, which my street joined, was an uneven,
slippery-surfaced, ankle-challenging mass of cobbles that looked even steeper.
I gave up the idea and, instead, headed down to the little church at the bottom
of the climb and wandered from there around Copacabana’s back streets.
That worked up an appetite, so I enjoyed a delicious
vegetable lasagna at one of the myriad of restaurants and cafes in the main street.
Then I began attracting waifs and strays. First, while enjoying my lunch, I got
hit on for money by a poor shoeshine man from Tacna, Peru,
whose friend had told him he would earn a good living from all the tourists in
Copacabana so he could support his five sisters and two brothers, all younger
than him and motherless. Instead, he had found that tourists either wear
walking shoes that don’t need polishing or they don’t really want or need their
shoes shone, so he had been living on the streets.
After lunch, a black dog attached itself to me as I walked
along the beach again. And, later, as I sat in the main street having a coke, a
brown dog came and planted itself on one of my feet!
My friend, the black dog, at the beach |
For about 30 minutes, I sat, nursing that Coca Cola,
scribbling notes for my blogs in my notebook and generally watching the world
happen around me. A young man, afflicted with something akin to thalidomide
victims, was using his shortened and misshapen limbs to craft jewellery and
sell it to random passersby. A woman, from a restaurant across the street from
me, took pity on a street dog, struggling to walk on its three good legs and
one badly damaged limb, bringing it a plateful of lunchtime leftovers and stood
guard while it ate, scaring off the able-legged dogs that hovered eagerly
nearby. My shoeshine friend walked steadfastly up and down, seeking out
potential customers but either coming up empty or being chased off by overly
protective restaurateurs (I was glad I had helped him out a little). Tourists
wandered up or down the street, trying to decide where to eat or drink, or what
souvenirs to buy from the many stalls full of eye-catching sweaters, caps, etc.
Another woman chose the café where I was perched, taking a
seat on the bench that mirrored mine on the opposite side of the doorway. She
was perhaps 20 or more years younger than me and looked like a traveller,
dressed in a multi-coloured cotton skirt, a black top and a short denim jacket.
Initially, we didn’t speak.
A cute little Bolivian girl was hovering around (I later
discovered her name was Nina), playing in the street, running up and down,
amusing herself with small things as children in poor countries do. She seemed
to belong to the café two doors down.
The other woman greeted her, the little girl approached and
was rewarded with a present, a little sticker that the woman magically produced
from her purse and stuck on to the back of the wee girl’s hand. The wee one
beamed with delight and raced off to show whoever was in the café – it turned
out to be two young male friends who then craved stickers of their own.
The woman and I struck up a conversation based entirely on
what had taken place: I asked what she had given the girl; she told me she
always carries stickers for exactly these situations (note to self: excellent
idea!); I commented that it was so much better than sweets … and thus began our
contact.
The woman’s name is Erin and
she is nearing the end of a two-year sabbatical, during which time she has been
travelling and volunteering her way around the world. (You can read more about
her fascinating travels, her ‘living mini’ philosophy and her generous
donations to good causes on her website.) She describes herself as an
‘adventure philanthropist’, being both a professional travel writer and a self-employed
fundraiser, with huge connections in the US, doing pro bono work for
organisations like Globalteer, offering advice on ways they can expand their fundraising activities. Perfect, plus I like her philosophy. Erin and I
chatted, exchanged travellers' tales, brief life details and business cards,
then went our separate ways but I’m sure we’ll be in touch again very soon.
(Erin has since written a book about her two-year adventure and her philosophy for adventure philanthropy. It's a great read and very inspirational!)
(Erin has since written a book about her two-year adventure and her philosophy for adventure philanthropy. It's a great read and very inspirational!)
I went back to the beach, drawn by Titicaca’s blue blue waters and keen to get more photos of the quirky pedal-powered boats and the lake as it sparkled in the late afternoon sun. Later, I treated myself to a delicious dinner, with a sunset view to die for, at the hotel restaurant, and another early night.
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