I opened my eyes and saw a tent above my head. It was day two of the overnight hike in the Andes. We hiked most of the day yesterday and then reached our campsite at about 3:30 in the afternoon with time to relax before dinner. It had been hot all day but there was a significant temperature drop when the sun disappeared behind the mountains, and after dinner, when it was dark, we all scurried back to our two-person tents to bundle up and go to bed, despite the fact that it was only 8:30 PM.

When I woke up my stomach was churning, but I ignored it—too cold to think about getting up to get medicine or anything. After breakfast at 7:30, those of us up for the challenge began our hike further up the mountain to the “saddle” between two other mountain peaks. The journey up probably took about an hour and fifteen minutes, but it was very strenuous and hard to breathe. This was probably one of the most physically demanding things I’ve done in my life. We were headed to Inti Punku (Puerto del Sol) or the “Door to the Sun.” When we spotted this door up at the saddle from a distance it seemed much closer than it was in reality. When we finally made it I felt incredible. We were actually standing on top of a mountain in the Andes. I kissed the doorway out of pride when I walked through it, and we stayed up in the little square of ruins for about 45 minutes, taking pictures, journaling a bit, talking, and congratulating ourselves. I tried to memorize how I felt at that moment, looking overtop of the surrounding mountains, so I could save it and feel it again later at exciting time, like maybe when I get into college or something.  We were 4,000 meters high.

Going down was a lot easier cardio-wise, but there were many loose rocks and the trail was rather steep, so it was slightly startling when I slipped every once in a while, especially with the steep drop easily within reach.

In the end, we all safely made it down the mountain and, looking back, I think this was my favorite part of the trip.

Today was our first morning waking up in our host families’ houses. I roomed with Maddie and we lived with a family of four kids: a boy who was 28 named Javier, a girl named Eliana who was 25, a 16 year old boy named Luis, and a 13 year old boy named Alex. We had a room to ourselves, and a shower with hot water, so we were very happy. The family we lived with was a little shy at first, and it was difficult for me to communicate with them because I hardly speak any Spanish, but Maddie helped me say some things, and I tried to be as polite as possible because it was very generous of them to open their home up to us and cook us three meals a day (which were very good).

Maddie and I woke up early, even without an alarm clock, because Ollantaytambo (the name of the town where we stayed) is bustling by 6:30. We got ready in our work clothes for the first day of service at the local high school, and after breakfast we walked to the school and met up with the group. I loved seeing the mountains on the walk to school. I don’t know how the kids here get any work done; I’d be too busy staring out the window!

Our service project throughout the trip was building a wall at the high school. The trench for the wall was already dug and we were to move cinder blocks and mix cement and do other preparations for the wall. Right inside the school’s gate was a pile of 1,000 cinder blocks and another 1,000 were on their way. When the new shipment was delivered, our whole group made one long assembly line and passed blocks down the line. The people at the end of the line made a new pile, closer to where the wall was actually being built. Some of us were skeptical as to why the blocks weren’t originally delivered closer to the wall trench, but it was easier to just move blocks and not ask questions, because that’s not how they were delivered and they had to be moved anyway. This task of passing cinder blocks down an assembly line seems quite simple but, block by block, the tensions grew, especially when there was a holdup of blocks because someone was struggling with one or because their grip slipped. When instances like this happened, the blocks built up and we were at a standstill. A holdup was usually followed by much yelling and talk of, ‘fixing the system.’ “Come closer!” or “Spread out!” were common cries down the line. Despite many attempts to fix the chinks, eventually there would be more yelling and frustration. I believe that this was more a product of the tediousness of the work rather than the fortitude of the group. After about two hours and 1,000 cinder blocks, however, we were all thrilled to be finished so we could act civilized again, and rest our shaking arms.

After lunch we got to relax a bit and play some team-building games. We were happy to go home that night to shower and veg because it had been a long, tiring day and we wanted to get some good sleep because the next morning we were headed off to Patacancha (a weaving community where we would learn how local weavers spin and dye their yarn, and how they create the beautiful woven things we see sold in the markets). We would even get to do some shopping!

After a quick breakfast with the group we walked all together to the base of the sun temple ruins. We met up with a local guide and he led us up the ruins, explaining Incan history along the way. Every activity we do here seems to involve ‘a short hike up the mountain,’ so I often feel a little winded, but we are trying to avoid altitude sickness as best we can by staying hydrated and drinking coca tea (a tea made of coca leaves that supposedly helps prevent this sickness).

The Inca engineering is incredible. The steps we climbed up were granite rocks about 2’ wide by 4’ deep, and very thick. I can’t completely wrap my head around how these huge rocks were transported. The ancient people harvested them from the top of a neighboring mountain, and then used timber, ramps, animals, and their own physical strength to haul them up to a very high point on the mountain of the sun temple. I wonder how many years and people it took to do this. There is evidence here at the sun temple of the Spanish invasion because some rocks were abandoned on the ramp on the way to the temple. How disappointing it must have been to not be able to finish.

The temple walls are built like a giant puzzle—each fitting into the other with such precision that you could not fit a sheet of paper in-between them. I tried to soak up as much history and knowledge from these people as possible. The architecture here is amazing. We learned that trapezoid-shaped doors and windows are a distinctive feature of Incan architecture and this is an easy way of differentiating ruins.

The placement of these structures also amazes me. The Incans looked at the nature around them and the shapes of the mountain and then built in a way that incorporated the earth. Unlike in today’s society, where we destroy nature and build up our own towers, the Incans embraced nature and trusted its guidance for their architecture. They seemed to have had no problems with landslides, earthquakes, or erosion; after all, mountains have been standing for quite a long time…

As I settled into my peruvian lifestyle, I became very aware that the trip I was on was not meant to make you feel settled (in the best way possible). On Tuesday March 4th, after another great breakfast (the food was always fantastic), we met our host families outside of our hotel rooms, and they helped us carry our things a few blocks away to their homes, which were spread out all over the small town. Our group had been divided into groups of 2 or 3 and each assigned to a family. I was lucky enough to be roommates with Newell! I had become increasingly more nervous to meet the family, mostly because out of all the groups, Newell and I had the least amount of spanish experience; me having none, and Newell being in Spanish 2. Leaving the hotel was completely throwing me out of my comfort zone and I have to admit, I was scared. Babina, my host mother, greeted us with a big kiss on the cheek and Poncho, my host father, a friendly hug. Their house was very cute. Newell and I shared a room with two very comfortable beds. Most of the houses in Ollantaytambo had an outdoor center. In my house, there was an outdoor courtyard with all of the room surrounding it, meaning that all of the doors to each room you had to go outside to enter. I didn’t understand much of what they were saying, so I just smiled and nodded. They sensed how tense I was and offered to play UNO. Once my host siblings, Yessica and Yack came home from school, Newell and I soon learned that UNO was a household favorite. We played for 2 full hours! I wrote in my journal that night, “I am starting to realize that their family is so similar to what we know as a family, along with their traditions. I am beginning to understand the uniqueness of the experience I am having. Even though I cannot understand almost all of what they are saying, to be able to sit and observe is the most influential thing. It is so cool to realize that they are just a small loving family living in this big world, and I already know that I will think of them when I go back home.”

Here is picture of the happy family who, although we had trouble bonding with, grew increasingly more comfortable with and accustomed to living with. I realized over my 6 days with Poncho and Babina, that I never really felt in my comfort zone, but I learned so much about life of the people in Ollantaytambo. The most important thing I took away from them was that people share and spread love all around the world no matter the circumstance, level of education of financial situation. I feel truely bless to be pushed into this opportunity where I would take so much. Even though we were maybe not the greatest match for each other, I am really thankful they were able to open up their home and open up my eyes to their lifestyle. 

Over the next few days, we started our service project. It was very exciting! The town of Ollantaytambo had just finished a brand new high school. It was beautiful, and everyone was so excited for the opening day! Our task was to help build a wall on the back side of the school. Over the next couple of days we would unload 1,000 cinder blocks from the back of a truck, move 2,000 cinder blocks from the front of school to the back of the school where the wall was being built, carry dirt, cement, and rocks and get very dirty. It was quite the task. Our group had moments of high tension, laughter, arguments and collaboration. My one wish for the trip would be that we could have made more of an impact on the wall, but unfortunately because of the time consuming labor we didn’t get to see it finished. Overall it was a wonderful experience because we all really came together as a group.

The most influential experience over these few days was the Weaving Community. On March 6th, after a long morning of service, we boarded a little bus and took a very bumpy, very scary ride up the side of a mountain to the community. It was incredible. The women were seated, all in traditional dress, working very hard on their pieces. We all gathered and watched them, snapping pictures and listening to our guide explain their lifestyle to us. They used all natural dye’s and carefully spun the llama fur into beautiful yarn. We were each paired up with one of them, and they helped us weave our own bracelets! It was so cool. The woman I worked with was so sweet. I had no idea what she said at all, but I just kept telling her things about our trip and how great things were in english even though I knew she didn’t understand either. She had a great smile and it was great working with her.

After we finished weaving our bracelets, I thanked the woman I was working with and we walked through cluster of houses where they lived. We went inside a house and got to look around. It was then that I realized that what I was seeing was unbelievable poverty. The house was hardly big enough for a few people, and had no furniture. There were no windows or chimneys, and the people often had respiration issues. There was no running water. It was hard to understand and accept that people were living in these conditions. I realized that these women put on their traditional dress and work hard on their beautiful creations for people like me and the rest of the group, who have come to learn about peruvian culture. It surprised me that people with such unique and incredible talents are forced to live in such poverty. But at night, when they go back to their houses, they have to live in these conditions, without a bed, water, or even fresh air. I was truly taken aback, and humbled to have met such simplistic happy people who live with so little, and wish so badly that I single handedly could have helped them in that moment.