Somehow I have already been in Huanchaco, Peru for eight weeks.
Huanchaco is a small, touristy beach town in northern Peru. It’s the type of place where travelers try to pass through for just a couple of days, but for whatever reason end up staying much longer than they expected. Maybe some take comfort in the familiar hippie vibe: the relaxed beachy vibes, the abundance of the indie jewelry sold beachside, the ease of access to vegetarian food and things that aren't rice. It might be that some travelers become addicted to surfing, unexpectedly finding themselves having to budget for the cost of lessons and renting board, as Huanchaco has some of the best waves in the world for learning. Others still fall for the warm days and beautiful sunsets, the cheap avocados, or falling asleep to the whistle of the neighborhood security man on his bicycle to let you know all is well, and the sound of crashing waves.
Unlike many of these travelers, I had already come to Huanchaco with the plan to stay for two months as a volunteer. But after a full month had gone by, I minorly started panicking, realizing that it would be hard for me to leave, too. The days float by, each one different enough from the day before that I never bore, but similar enough that if I don't keep up with my journaling they blur in my memory.
The biggest part of my experience here, and the reason I came to Huanchaco in the first place, is the organization I’m volunteering for called FairMail.
It’s hard to put into words exactly what FairMail is as an organization.
My job is to teach photography to FairMail’s ten students ages 13-18 so they can develop successful postcards and fund their studies as well as pay for things like medical expenses, fixing holes in their roofs, or similar expenses that may arise. The kids keep 60% of the profit which mostly goes towards paying for their education. Besides me, there is another volunteer named Nora who has been here with me the whole time, and Marcy who joined us just a couple of weeks ago. Maria Flor and Betty are two Peruvian employees who are former FairMail students. They are so fun, sweet, and patient, and it’s so important that they’re here as volunteers rotate every few months and Peter and Janneke, who founded the organization, don’t spend their whole time in Huanchaco. It’s been such a help to have these wonderful people to bounce ideas off of and help us understand cultural nuances we might overlook as foreigners.
But FairMail is so much more than a company with good intentions. Fairmail is a family, and a safe space for every student, employee, and volunteer who spends time there. There are even monthly calls home to check in with each student’s family, and Saturdays before class during the staff meeting everyone describes the highs and lows of their week was outside of class. There is also a weekly question that we think about for our social circle on Saturdays at the end of class, this week’s being: if the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?
I was charmed from day one and I knew leaving would be hard. I hope to return one day, with more experience, better ideas, and improved Spanish. But for now, I'm trying to spend my energy focusing on what's ahead instead of what I'm leaving behind. My next destination is Huaraz, where I will be trading the beach for white-capped mountains.
Hasta luego Huanchaco, nos vemos pronto.
Huanchaco is a small, touristy beach town in northern Peru. It’s the type of place where travelers try to pass through for just a couple of days, but for whatever reason end up staying much longer than they expected. Maybe some take comfort in the familiar hippie vibe: the relaxed beachy vibes, the abundance of the indie jewelry sold beachside, the ease of access to vegetarian food and things that aren't rice. It might be that some travelers become addicted to surfing, unexpectedly finding themselves having to budget for the cost of lessons and renting board, as Huanchaco has some of the best waves in the world for learning. Others still fall for the warm days and beautiful sunsets, the cheap avocados, or falling asleep to the whistle of the neighborhood security man on his bicycle to let you know all is well, and the sound of crashing waves.
Unlike many of these travelers, I had already come to Huanchaco with the plan to stay for two months as a volunteer. But after a full month had gone by, I minorly started panicking, realizing that it would be hard for me to leave, too. The days float by, each one different enough from the day before that I never bore, but similar enough that if I don't keep up with my journaling they blur in my memory.
The biggest part of my experience here, and the reason I came to Huanchaco in the first place, is the organization I’m volunteering for called FairMail.
It’s hard to put into words exactly what FairMail is as an organization.
My job is to teach photography to FairMail’s ten students ages 13-18 so they can develop successful postcards and fund their studies as well as pay for things like medical expenses, fixing holes in their roofs, or similar expenses that may arise. The kids keep 60% of the profit which mostly goes towards paying for their education. Besides me, there is another volunteer named Nora who has been here with me the whole time, and Marcy who joined us just a couple of weeks ago. Maria Flor and Betty are two Peruvian employees who are former FairMail students. They are so fun, sweet, and patient, and it’s so important that they’re here as volunteers rotate every few months and Peter and Janneke, who founded the organization, don’t spend their whole time in Huanchaco. It’s been such a help to have these wonderful people to bounce ideas off of and help us understand cultural nuances we might overlook as foreigners.
But FairMail is so much more than a company with good intentions. Fairmail is a family, and a safe space for every student, employee, and volunteer who spends time there. There are even monthly calls home to check in with each student’s family, and Saturdays before class during the staff meeting everyone describes the highs and lows of their week was outside of class. There is also a weekly question that we think about for our social circle on Saturdays at the end of class, this week’s being: if the world were to end tomorrow, what would you do today?
I was charmed from day one and I knew leaving would be hard. I hope to return one day, with more experience, better ideas, and improved Spanish. But for now, I'm trying to spend my energy focusing on what's ahead instead of what I'm leaving behind. My next destination is Huaraz, where I will be trading the beach for white-capped mountains.
Hasta luego Huanchaco, nos vemos pronto.