It has now been a few weeks since I left Arequipa, the second largest city in Peru, known for its three volcanoes and incredible food. I’m not sure that I would have been able to write this report much earlier, and am still not sure if I have fully comprehended the incredible, eye-opening six weeks that I spent there. However, I can give it a go.
The task of choosing where to volunteer was originally daunting, with the whole world on offer. I narrowed it down to Peru as I wanted to practise my Spanish and have always wanted to visit South America, with the history and natural beauty of Peru persuading me. I then spoke to a handful of wonderful charities, eventually choosing HOOP due to its inspirational work, impact, and friendly team.
HOOP Peru started in 2012, teaching English to seven families and 20 children in Flora Tristan, a small area on the outskirts of Arequipa. Now, it helps over 200 families and nearly 300 children, expanding its impact by also teaching coding, supporting families with administrative workshops and legal support, and offering psychological support to nearly 100 families. It takes a holistic approach, supporting the whole family.
So, 24 hours after arriving at Heathrow, I was met by Nidia, the incredible Human Resources Coordinator, at Arequipa airport. I was instantly struck by the surrounding volcanoes and climate, and I was both excited and nervous on the taxi drive to my hostel, or home for the next six weeks.
I was anxious during the 24-hour journey, complicated by lost luggage and cancelled flights. I’m not particularly well travelled, and have never volunteered abroad, so had no idea what to expect. This was the furthest that I had been from home, and I had never even travelled alone. Would I be lonely? I packed eight books in case I was. The other French volunteers that I met when I arrived, who I would now call some of my best friends, made sure that those eight books returned to England untouched.
Nidia met me the next morning by Arequipa Cathedral, after a jetlagged sleep, an incredible coffee, and an empanada. She told me that I would be shocked by the bus, but I thought that four years of commuting in London would make the adjustment easy. It didn’t.
After jumping onto a bus that barely stopped, I stood for the duration of the journey, neck bent forwards as they were not made for taller people. People stopped and stared as few tourists took this method of transport. Nevertheless, the volcanoes followed, so I remained occupied by the sights for the journey. After shouting ‘¡Baja!’ halfway up a dirt road, Nidia and I walked to the school, past a dusty football pitch and dogs that would chase you and growl (apparently their way of showing love). The dogs soon became good friends of mine. Hummingbirds danced in the trees, and children shouted ‘hello teacher’ along the path. I walked past their houses, all self-built, some with sheets of metal as walls, some broken walls, and broken glass covering the walls.
I arrived at the school to 15 6-10-year-olds, otherwise known as the Parrots classroom. They were shy, and I don’t blame them: a 6'2" bearded man had arrived, speaking to them in a language they knew little of. I quickly realised that I needed to switch to my broken Spanish, and, sitting in one of their little chairs, their curiosity got the better of them, and they started to accept me.
I taught two classes per day, and the lessons consisted of learning basic vocabulary related to clothing, the weather, colours, furniture, or hobbies. I made sure to speak to each student individually on my first day, simply asking, “How are you?”. Some answered “I’m happy”; one answered “tomato”.
This first interaction impacted the way I taught the lessons. I ensured that lessons did not stick rigidly to the book, and made an effort to accommodate all needs, from setting extra work for those who were excelling, to spending more time explaining to those who needed a bit of extra help. I took inspiration from the education that I had received at their age, and, racking my brain back nearly 20 years, I only had memories of teachers that encouraged fun and learning through playing. I knew that I needed to be the same.
Within a week, I had proposed the idea of changing the seating plan to accommodate all needs, been gifted too many beautiful drawings from the students, and genuinely had fun. I learned about their different personalities, their strengths and weaknesses, and what would make them laugh. They particularly liked when I would put on a high-pitched voice when pretending to be an English elephant named Nelly, so that (as embarrassing as it was) became a daily occurrence. They loved singing, so I taught them songs that helped me learn when I was their age, from ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ to a song to learn the months of the year. We certainly were not going to win any prizes for our singing, but I will never forget their smiles as I told them that they could not sing it faster, and they absolutely proved me wrong.
Now, although it was mostly laughter, learning, playing, and telling one particular student to get off the table, there was also upset, and that was the part that I was least prepared for, but knew was one of the most important. Many students had difficult lives outside of the classroom, and it was often obvious when somebody needed a bit more support or compassion. I always tried my best to accommodate this, but occasionally there were tears, and that quickly brought me back down to earth. For the hours that I was in the classroom, I was lucky enough to be distracting them with silly songs and laughter. The students were not necessarily returned to this environment, and it’s heartbreaking yet important to understand this. I occasionally felt a sense of helplessness, knowing that I would soon be returning to my university in London, while these children rarely had the privilege to leave their village.
This reality stressed the importance of the work conducted at HOOP. Learning English can be an incredible skill for the children, increasing their educational attainment and employability in later life. Inspirational stories from the organisation show students earning scholarships in the US or in Lima after leaving HOOP. However, social aspects can be just as important, for these can allow children to feel safe, healthy, and supported. HOOP did not just stop with the children: I would speak to their families, who were receiving education, psychological support, clothes, or knitting workshops. That felt important.
I also had the opportunity to teach the parents and other volunteers about London, in a presentation that pushed my Spanish to the limit. I taught them about some of the history and culture of London, as well as some slang and some comparisons to their beautiful country. This was fun.
As I neared the end of the six weeks, my relationships with the students and staff grew. I began to know the intricacies of each student, and also started to see real progress. It was incredibly rewarding to see that my time and effort was making a genuine difference in their lives, and I began to fear leaving. I did not want to stop the progress that was being made, so I made sure to extend my teaching to others.
So, I did not just teach the students: I also used my background in Medicine and Neuroscience to teach the teachers. I conducted workshops on the science of learning, using science-based theories to show the teachers what they were already doing so well, and what they could implement to make their teaching even more effective. This felt different but equally important. It gave my work a degree of sustainability, allowing their work to be improved for current and future cohorts. I also had to tailor my communication, for singing ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes’ would probably not have been as effective a tool with the Educational Coordinator. I implemented each of the concepts into different quizzes and tests, ensuring understanding and encouraging interactivity.
One of my goals when planning this trip was to develop my ability to communicate educational ideas effectively across cultural and linguistic differences. Through recording structured reflections on timing and engagement, as well as asking for feedback from the more experienced volunteers, I feel that I achieved this, and felt myself becoming more confident with each session.
This volunteering also allowed me to immerse myself in Peru and its culture. From tasting its beautiful coffee every morning in the Plaza de Armas, to cooking and eating traditional food with local families, I felt so welcome. In my second week, I spent the evening with a local volunteer and his family, making Causa Rellena, a traditional Peruvian cold layered potato dish. I was the potato masher, and was rewarded with beers from his mother. I spent a while learning about her and her country, like her time at university in Lima, and her hometown near Colca Canyon. I watched the football with his cousins and mother, and felt like a part of the family.
After hearing about Colca Canyon, I knew I had to visit. I had never trekked before, nor worn the trekking shoes that I brought with me, but felt inspired and confident! That quickly left when I arrived underprepared and saw the enormous canyon. It was scary knowing that every step that I took downhill would have to be taken at 3am the next day, only uphill, and with my feet basically two big blisters by this point. That ascent may have been the worst three hours of my life, but I look back on it fondly (as much as I thought I would not).
I visited Machu Picchu and other parts of the Sacred Valley, learning of the rich and complex history of Peru and the Incas. They always described their history with such pride, and I loved to ask, and to learn. I walked up Machu Picchu Mountain while there, which I did not know I had signed up for, and, despite complaining for a while and nearly turning back a few times, it was worth it for the view.
I even went skiing for the first time in my life, only on sand dunes in Huacachina, a desert oasis. I went with the French volunteers that made it look very easy, and that I certainly wouldn’t have done without. Watching the sunset over the dunes is an image that I will never forget.
I aimed to improve my Spanish while in Peru, combining my constant conversational practice with textbook reading and vocabulary practice. I felt that this significantly improved my proficiency and confidence. Near the end of my time in Peru, I was able to confidently communicate more complex issues regarding transport, and I’m fortunate enough (or unfortunate enough) to have a direct comparison for this.
Upon arriving in Lima, my connecting flight to Arequipa was cancelled, and my luggage was in an unknown location. After hours of attempting to converse, translate, and stumble through my rusty Spanish, the issue was resolved, although I nearly missed the rebooked flight. Ironically, this also happened on my return flight, also in Lima. I found myself stood at the same desk, with the same assistant, only this time speaking more confidently, knowing the vocabulary, and understanding the responses. I even found myself dropping the accent that I learned from Spain! Although I was able to demonstrate my progress, there were no flights until the next day, so I did spend the night in Lima…
A final aim for my volunteering experience was to deepen my understanding of the social and cultural context of communities within Peru. This may have been the most memorable part of my experience. I had the privilege to engage with countless people, from varying communities and backgrounds, so I was able to learn a plethora of cultural perspectives. I could also witness first-hand the role of education in addressing social challenges, and was lucky enough to be able to have some impact on that. I will carry the lessons I learned for life, and am indebted to every person that shared a story and educated me in some way.
I would like to thank everyone involved in HOOP, both coordinators and volunteers. Thank you for your support and kindness, and for allowing me to have fun while teaching. I would like to thank the communities and students that I worked with for also showing kindness, and for all of the beautiful drawings. Thank you to my amazing friends that I did not know existed until I arrived in Arequipa. I would have done a lot more reading if I had not met you, but had a lot less fun.
Thank you to Yvonne for helping me with arranging this opportunity, and to the Laidlaw Scholarship for allowing me to have the most incredible summer.
And so, to answer the original question: what was my reason for volunteering? I’d hoped that, after six weeks of volunteering, and months to think about it, I would have a better answer than my original. However, I’m not sure that I do. It was such a complex, tiring, exciting, emotional journey, that I will cherish forever. Maybe a final story can answer a bit better:
A fitting end to this report could be my goodbye to the students and volunteers. I bought food and played football on the roof with the students, who were angry that I was leaving, and made me promise to return. I asked them to line up so that I could say goodbye to them each individually, and asked them to tell me their favourite English word that they had learnt from me. They all, while crying, told me that their favourite word was “I love you, Teacher Alfie”. Heartbreaking.
While trying not to cry myself, the final student stepped up, telling me his favourite word:
‘Tomato’…