A few days ago I took a local bus from Vilcabamba to Quinara. This was way off the tourist trail. In fact, most of the road was gravel. Before I got on I asked the conductor if I could get back to Vilcabamba the same day. He said sure. The ride was beautiful. We passes through a narrow valley that had tall mountains on each side. Along the way, we passed Escuela Cuerpo de Paz or Peace Corps School. When I got off in Quinara, the conductor said that the bus would return at 4:00pm, which was two and one half hours later. I wandered through the town and met the English teacher for the school. We practiced English and he showed me around the school. Later I stopped at a small store to get a bottle of water and kill some time. I met the owner's 14-year-old son and he showed me his schoolbooks. He asked me to read from his English book. I did. He was amazed that I could read English out loud. He told me that he had five one-hour English classes per week and had been studying English since he started school. He didn't like studying English. Unlike his etcher, he did not practice with me. As small as the town was, it didn't have any kind of restaurant, it was the center for even smaller towns further up the mountains. While I was there a bus left to go further in on a narrow gravel road. As I was leaving a group of five donkeys passed with their packsaddles followed by their owner. They spoke Spanish with an unusual accent. Many words had guttural, almost Dutch-like sounds. Some words, although they were Spanish, sounded almost indigenous. What a great place for a Peace Corps volunteer. If I had stayed much longer I might have volunteered to help teach English. I am sure that they would have welcomed me and found me a place to stay ; it really would have been fun ...but...
... unfortunately there will be none of his fabulous photos as his camera has become the property of someone new. So now he will use only his cell phone ... (Shirley)
