So, volunteering is getting better. We've disassembled about a million pallets (those of you who have worked with pallets will know how satisfying this is...) and turned them into many panels that will eventually turn into walls. Hopefully this week or at least sometime soon we'll be able to get out on site and see the panels going up and being made into houses. We can also make panels with window holes and shutters. Maz is getting better at hammering than Tom and may have found her forte!! Although it is one of the, by far, less glamorous jobs it is satisfying. Apparently on some of the sites there is a lot of standing around as there is not enough work for everyone. On FMB (as our project is called) there is always, sometimes a lot, of work to be done.

Today we decided to take a walk down to the beach as it is only about a 7 minute walk (it's not 5 mins and it's not 10!) away. It was beautiful but, unfortunately, it was rather overcast and slightly chilly (still in t-shirts though!). If it was clear and sunny, like it was yesterday (tut), we would have been able to see clearly the Ballestas Islands which are, apparently, the 'poor man's Galapagos'! We fully intend to take a trip out there at some point but all we want to do at weekends is sleep! The work is 9-5 all week and 10-1 on Saturdays, all of hard labour, so it's completely understandable! Maz has got 4 callouses from all the hard work. And many bruises.

Today we went on a tour of the Pisco (local drink) bodegas. This was meant to be a chance to try some nice Piscos and see the country, this it was but it soon became a piss up as well. After taking about an hour to find an open bodega everyone wanted a drink and after having a tour of how the drink was made they then took us to a bar and gave a whole heap of free tasters, they even gave me a 3/4 bottle of free expensive wine-great times!!!
We then went to second place which pulled us in off the street and gave a a load more pisco. In this place we also met a 92 year old lady who told us all about how her parents had set the bodega up 100 years ago.
The third place we went had award winning pisco and had even had awards in Europe. This place was a bit of a blur by now and although interesting did not have the character of the previous bodegas.
After this we rushed back for the PSF (our charity were working for) rock concert. There was a Peruvian band playing who helped them record the PSF song and were actually really good. There was a lot of dancing and singing around the fire and plenty more to drink.

Today we went on site to help put up a modular house. This was good to do because we had been making the modular panels for so long that it was interesting to see how they went together to make a house.
Although the site was overly crowded, about 18 people made up of three separate projects, we managed to keep busy and soon had the process of putting up the panels down to an art.
Food was also given to us by the family there and although it was very tasty it soon made many people, Maz included, feel very ill so came back to the Hostel a bit early

During the day we made modular panels as we do most days.
Tonight was the PSF auction which was to raise proceeds for the charity. This started with a silent auction and then a proper auction where people were raising money by selling things from favours, meals to getting tattoos of various things. Don't know how much this raised but it must have been a lot because everyone was drunk and buying stupid things for increasingly large amounts of money.
After this we went to a nearby club and danced it what was a really dead dance floor, although there were a lot of us so this didn't matter too much!!

Today and yesterday show some examples of what has been our day to day routine at PSF. Yesterday we were making panels and tidying the wood yard (Bollywood). Also Chris made us a very fancy scrap wood box with wheels and everything.
Today we went to Aceros Arequipa (local steel mill) for the 4th or 5th time to get scrap pallets which we break down to make the modular panels.

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Another week in Pisco, another set of memories and experiences to be cherished.  I have been here for two and a half weeks, and I have been able to settle into the rhythms of the town and of Pisco Sin Fronteras.  I have already had to say goodbye to new friends that I hope to stay in contact with, and I have begun to meet new people as they arrive for their PSF adventure.  I am also preparing to say goodbye to all three of my roommates, whom have also turned into my closest friends here, as they are all coincidentally leaving in one week.  Although it is never fun to say goodbye, I’ve learned that the beauty of PSF is in the shared experiences that we will always have.

Of course the primary experience to be remembered is the projects we do for the community.  I was fortunate enough to have gotten on a project from its beginning, and I have managed to stay on this project for the most part.  It is a new school and community center in a poor neighborhood not far from where we live.  When I showed up, it was just trenches dug in the ground for the foundation.  We now have about 2 meter high walls built from dirt bags, and we will probably begin building the roof this week.  I am expecting to be able to see the completion of this project while I am here.  It is very tough work shoveling dirt and moving 50kg bags of dirt all day, but it has also been very rewarding.  The kids in the community are often at the site and love to try to learn all our names.  It has been awesome meeting many of the kids that are going to be using our school, and it has definitely been worth the slowed production that they may cause at times.  There is one four-year-old boy named Pepe that is almost always at the site since he has not started school yet, and he has insisted on helping out on the project from day one.  By the end of the day he is usually sweaty and tired from a full day’s work.  While I am not a proponent of child labor, I think Pepe loves helping us out, and his energy and spirit really encourages all the volunteers and reminds us why we are here (Para los ninos).

Aside from the hard work that we put in six days a week, PSF always does an excellent job balancing work with social activities.  This week was no exception.  Monday nights we have been consistently getting about 15 people out for basketball at a court that was built by PSF volunteers.  We have been having pretty spirited and competitive games.  There have also been soccer (futbol), yoga, and dance classes offered on a regular basis.  Thursday, one of the volunteers from Quebec, Canada organized a beach party to celebrate the Quebec holiday for St. Jean de Baptiste.  We cooked pizzas over the beach fires with relative success, had some good live music, and even were introduced to the new PSF theme song, written and performed by one of our own volunteers.

Friday night was casino night.  By normal measures of gambling, nobody really won since all the winnings of the night went towards the organization (Para los ninos).  The Texas Hold ‘Em started with about 25 players, each donating 20 soles to play.  Unfortunately, I was the first person out at my table, but this just meant I was able to participate and lose money at other games such as Blackjack, and my personal favorite, Guess which box Renee the Guinea Pig will choose.  I guessed correctly on the first pick, but then lost the next three turns.  The goal for this game was to raise 100 soles to prevent the Guinea from being eaten (Guinea Pig is a regular meal in Peru). The money was not all raised, but a couple volunteers were kind enough to donate the remaining money to save Renee’s life.   There was also a full operating bar set up at PSF for the event with the proceeds from drinks also going to the organization.  We were forced to end the festivities at 2:00 am to respect those wishing to sleep, which of course meant the rest of us went to a disco in downtown Pisco called Mystica, where we danced the night away, where we more than doubled the occupancy.  Of course, everybody was up for breakfast the next morning at 8:30 ready to put in work because that’s what we do at PSF!

Today a group of us took went to an Incan ruin which is about one hour outside of Pisco.  This was my first Incan ruin I’d seen, and it was a good preview of more spectacular scenes to come at Machu Piccu.  It was also a nice change of scenery from Pisco as it was a very mountainous and peaceful area.  It was a good day off to rest from the week’s work.

So hopefully that gives a brief taste of what life is like here at PSF.  It is difficult to accurately portray PSF, but it is certainly a unique place.

There are virtually endless ways volunteers can support the reconstruction efforts driven by Pisco Sin Fronteras. Many dig foundation trenches, clear rubble, pour concrete and lay brick. Others teach English and life-skills to local youth. As a Peace Corps volunteer stationed in Pisco for the better part of the last two years, I´ve seen some amazing people come through PSF and can attest to the enormous difference they have made in peoples´ lives here. The growth of the organization since I arrived in 2024 has been impressive, to say the least. Today, in the waning months of my service as part of the PC Small Business Development program, I´m excited to be able to formally collaborate with PSF in an effort to improve the standards of customer service, hygiene, and general management capabilities of local restaurants.

The initiative aims to bolster the gastronomy and tourism segments of a fledgling coastal economy through a series of nine evening workshops covering a broad array of topics regarding restaurant management. Participants are learning about essential steps of service for “front-of-house” staff (waiters, bartenders, hosts) as well as how to improve efficiency and quality control in the kitchen. Furthermore, owners and managers are being trained to seek and analyze customer feedback in order to implement the changes needed to improve the quality of service they provide. Given my own experience as a bartender and server, I am coordinating the “front-of-house” and business management training modules while Carlos Rozo – long-time PSF volunteer and newly appointed PSF Director with a rich culinary background – is taking charge of the hygienic standards and kitchen management portion of the course. Carlos is also helping to promote some innovative dishes that incorporate underused locally produced ingredients. Scallops and asparagus are two such ingredients that, though they are abundant in the region, are slated almost exclusively for export to foreign countries. When Carlos demonstrated the preparation of two simple yet delectable dishes – a cream of asparagus soup with scallops sautéed in a white-wine butter sauce and an appetizer consisting of sautéed asparagus, seared scallops dressed in a sweet & spicy honey-ají glaze – he stoked the culinary passions of every participant in the room until it nearly boiled over. The owners and managers who often double as cooks and/or waiters began to discuss the fusion of different flavors and debate the best possible variations as well as the side-dishes and drinks that would best complement them, their eyes wide with excitement.

My Peace Corps work with a small-scale scallop farming association here provided further motivation to promote an increase in local consumption, which should benefit small-scale extractors, restaurants, and end-consumers alike. By increasing local demand, more of the value stays in the community, which should generate greater economic activity.

The course is offered free of charge to all participants, and includes several sessions that take place in Puro Pisco, one of the most modern restaurants in the area, providing a practical setting where participants see how theory is put into practice.

When the course is finished, we will be working with the Municipality in San Andrés to implement a new set of standards of excellence in customer service amongst local restaurants. These standards will not be imposed, yet will offer incentive to those who comply through publicity provided by the Municipality. The hope is that this may serve to strengthen the gastronomic sector along the coast as a way to augment tourism in the future. Although some tourists currently pass through Pisco and San Andrés en route to Paracas (approximately 15 – 20 minutes south), it is imperative to prepare small-business owners for a potential influx of tourists once the plans for the construction of an International Airport in Pisco/San Andrés comes to fruition. Peruvian cuisine is quickly becoming renowned across the globe – most notably ceviche and many other seafood plates – which provides an extraordinary opportunity for locals dedicated to the culinary arts and which may also improve the standards of living of many others consequently affected by a local surge in gastronomic prowess.

This course is just one more example of the myriad possibilities available for PSF volunteers to make a difference in the community. As reconstruction moves forward, I earnestly hope the people at PSF will continue to use their creativity and good-will to begin new, innovative projects while continuing to enhance existing one in order to promote sustainable development in Pisco. There are truly no limits to the things you can achieve at PSF; there is an immense need here for people who can share skills and experience with locals and there are innumerable ways to do so. The intrepid spirits of those volunteers who break the mold of the status quo and persevere in their efforts to make this a better place are what I have come to revere most about PSF. I hope those of you who continue on at PSF will maintain that mentality, always striving to make a positive impact that may be felt long after you´re gone.

I got called sentimental recently. It was a charge levelled in good humour by friends and it was in relation to the post I wrote about saying goodbye to my friend Rupert. About sharing some Old Pulteney 12yo with him during the moto ride to the bus station. You can judge for yourselves here. On reflection I think I probably am prone to sentimentality. It is hard not to be in the wake of such emotional circumstance. So these thoughts are very much in my mind this week since I left Pisco Sin Fronteras this Tuesday. I can’t promise I won’t be sentimental about it.

I’ve often alluded to the difficulty in trying to sum up feelings about something like PSF. It is a life changing experience to spend time somewhere like that. At the moment it is still so raw and close that objectivity remains a struggle. I don’t know how my attitude towards it all will flesh out in the coming months and years, what will come to stand out and signify that overflowing four and a half months. A Tardisesque spec of time, with its hidden depths and corners stuffed so full of experience that it seems now scarcely real. The feeling of having awoken from a dream floats around me as I’m stuck here in Puno, waiting for a bus to take me the rest of the way to La Paz.

However there are images, spectres in those dreamy visions that spring to mind. When I think of PSF I think of cement dust, I think of the shattering whine of circular saws. I think of warm beer and standing in line for dinner. I think of an old woman and her disabled daughter. I think of electric shocks in the shower. I think of impact drivers and run down batteries. I think of people crying under the weight of emotion. I think of maddened laughter and drunkenness. I think of sweat. I think of sunburn. I think of goodbyes. I think of a desert with many faces. I think of a young girl called Georgette, sent back to her mother in Lima without a goodbye. I think of wood. I think of wood reconstructed in a myriad of new forms. I think of modular panels and I think of earthbags. I think of hunger and of money. I think of my own family far away. I think of Stephen, Rupert, Laura, Alex, Thays, Maartje, Carson, Andrew, Frank, Lucy, Suzanne, Lisa, Dylan, Kathryn, Pete, Jimmy, Lynn, Robin, Christian, Anna, Brodie, Sabrina, Amanda, Tim, Ariel, Jack, Jen, David, Leo, Bevan, Mel, Kareen, Nessa, Coleen, Naveen, Heather, Patrick, Natasha, Kent, Leen, Will, Shannon, Alec, Quentin, Brian, Jaffa, Beccy, North, Eileen, Imran, Magnus, Kitty, Liam, Ross, Marley, Dakota, Claudi and many more.

When I left I gave into my own sentimentality and shared, yet again, a whisky in the back seat of a mototaxi with another truly great friend, Alex. It went down well over the fading sting of the previous nights Climax session. Myself and fellow long termer Laura left at the same time and were accompanied by Alex and Thays to the bus station. I’ve known Alex for the full four and a half months I’ve been at PSF. He is Scottish and we shared much common experience of Glasgow and its University. We were the only two Scots there for most of the time and made short work of expressing this through endless thematic banter. However we only just discovered in the last two days that we shared a mutual best friend and had met on several occasions over the past few years. Especially when we went paintballing together and attended the same ‘silly hat party’. We both agreed that it is indeed ‘a small world’.

I don’t know how I’ll come to measure PSF in the future, but this much I know for certain. I made the best friends I ever knew there and it was the best thing I did in my life so far. Bad things can only be undone and changed in inches, and with the help of many people better than me, I helped to change a few more inches. I hope the process continues beyond the borders of PSF, I hope the feeling of PSF is an infection that spreads, one that I’ll never shake as I continue that endless journey they call ‘growing up’. Maybe that’s sentimental, but I find myself without the presence of mind to worry about such things these days.

It’s been just over a month since I arrived in Pisco, Peru to volunteer with PSF. Once one arrives and begins working, it quickly becomes an addiction...one can’t get enough of it. I hear people say it all the time “I came here for two weeks and stayed two months” or “I was here before and I decided to return”. In fact, I am a repeat offender too—I volunteered with PSP back in August 2009 and decided to come back. I knew the day that I left PSF back then that my work was not done and that I would return. Finally, a year and a half later, I am back and it feels muy buen .

During my leave of absence from PSF there has been so much progress within the organization. Volunteer intake has grown to the point where PSF has secured a new property to accommodate the much larger population. New projects such as building houses are being started daily, and with lots of hands to help, projects are being completed at record speed. There is now a dedicated administration team with a real office to keep the organisation running smoothly....I can’t thank these people enough for all their behind the scenes hard work. But where PSF has really progressed is in community involvement/ development. PSF is not just about building houses; PSF is about teaching the community to be strong and resilient. PSF volunteers have the opportunity to work directly with locals to teach English, conduct yoga classes, and instruct fair play in sports such as football (soccer) at our newly built earth bag centre. Several times a week, a group of volunteers will get together in the evening to play a friendly game of football or basketball with other local community members.

A lot work is being done in the areas of green space development and environmental education. Currently, we are working with Peace Corp to beautify a community park in Túpac Amaru, an underprivileged neighbourhood on the outskirts of Pisco. We also work with a local group, Espacio Expresión as well as Peace Corp, to deliver environmental educational programs to school children. Since 2024, we have worked with members of the local fishing association to educate fishermen and the community about responsible fishing, reducing local sea contamination as well as teach English and basic computer skills. Furthermore, we work in partnership with the Red Cross and DEMUNA (Defensoría Municipal del Niño y el Adolescente) to create awareness about health and nutrition, sexual education, violence, employment opportunities, etc...

The most exciting part of PSF is that if a volunteer has a skill, trade, idea, or initiative that s/he would like to share, PSF will provide support to get an educational program off the ground and running.

It’s incredible to be a part of PSF, and I feel lucky to have stumbled upon this place. My friends back home in Canada tell how great it is that I’m doing something “good for the people of Pisco”. However, I see it a little bit differently: I feel the people of Pisco are doing great things for me. They have forced me to open my eyes to a different way of life and to appreciate the small things in life. e.g. Clean drinking water and air, hot showers, a comfortable bed, employment rights, electricity... the list goes on. The people of Pisco have taught me that shit will happen and you will overcome, and be stronger in the end. The skills I have gained here will certainly apply to my community at home and that there will always be a need to foster and invest in new ideas and initiative. This is really what builds strong communities.

When I head back to Canada in two weeks, I will be leaving a very poor area extremely rich. It’s ironic but true. I thank you, Pisco, for all you have given me.

By: Natasha MacKinnon

Victoria, British Columbia, Canada

On my first two days of work, I made utility hole covers out of scrap wood from palettes, to replace covers that had been stolen for their metal content. The part where I wandered around town looking for holes was right up my alley (no smart-arse remarks, please!), since I've done that many times as part of the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition's Good Roads Ride.

Right after fitting the first cover, a woman obliviously stepped on it, proving its value. I also got a few thank-yous from locals as I went about my business—a shopkeeper even gave us free cola as a gesture of appreciation for us covering the hole in front of her shop. I wasn't expecting to be thanked; it's nice that I was, anyhow.

On Wednesday I tagged along with Jimmy, the group's Director, to help with proposed project assessment. PSF gets hundreds of applications for help, and this fact-finding mission helps decide which fraction of those applications actually result in people getting assistance. Because of my poor Spanish, I don't feel I was much help at all, beyond taking a few measurements. But it did give me some insight into the process, and more importantly to me, insight into how people in Pisco live. I ended up seeing three quite different living situations that day.

The first was a dwelling near the beach, shared by a family of eight and a family of four. Before the earthquake and tsunami, they shared a seven-room house, but the place they were in now, on the same property, had just three. The front room was the building built through a government emergency program; it was basically a slab of concrete poured over their old foundation, with a one-room steel framed cottage built on top. It functioned as the bedroom for the family of four. The middle room was on a concrete slab that was part of the original building, with walls made of a chunky orange tarp and a ceiling made of bamboo, estera (a thin bamboo lattice) and some corrugated plastic. The three-generation family of eight slept in that room, across three beds. The back room was the kitchen which had one of the original walls and more tarps and timber, and was decorated with paintings of beautiful houses beneath Spanish mountains. I'd actually love to have a room like that in an area with this kind of climate, but not if it was the only indoor common area.

Unlike many houses, they also had a functioning bathroom. This counted against them, since PSF's top priorities are sanitation and security, and actually having a toilet scores big points in that first category. But since their household includes small children and elderly people, they were still assigned a medium priority. And all they really want is for that middle room to be more solid, since it gets cold at night. We can use the tarp and the bamboo holding it up to give the ceiling a few more layers, and build them walls out of bricks. They were in a decent neighbourhood, and to prevent us always from working the same parts of town, we scale their standard of living according to their local community, so this counted in their favour as well.

The second place I went was not in a decent neighbourhood. Streets were unpaved, there was a lot of rubbish (there is all over town, actually), and it smelled bad. I braced myself for the inside of the house, but insufficiently. The front room was okay—concrete floor and ceiling, brick walls—but it smelled really, really bad. I thought this might be the reason that the room was basically empty, but Peru has a very strong tradition of the bedrooms being in the back of the house, and the household didn't own any furniture, except for a bed. That was at the back of the house, where the smell was coming from. 'The back of the house' was basically a few posts with hessian strung up to it, and a partial ceiling of estera. A few fowl roamed around, as did a couple of small children, stepping over a very skinny, sleeping dog. Every post had a pigeon or chook sitting atop, and their 'bathroom' was a bucket. I've been to a few impoverished nations, and a few additional slums, but without a doubt, and with due respect to the people that lived there, it was absolutely the most disgusting dwelling I've seen in the world, ever. But Jimmy assured me he's seen much worse.

The third place was at the southern edge of town, past the tip. Theirs was the only brick house within blocks; the rest were made of timber and leaning bamboo posts. They had a new television, a stereo, and a fairly solid roof over their entire house. Some of the interior walls were made of that estera stuff, and they wanted help making those of brick as well—apparently all the men in the household had been injured in some way. Their home would violate many building codes in every other country I've lived in, but for Pisco, they lived in luxury—they even had a land line. We'll be calling next week, to tell them 'no'.

I was supposed to help out with some other project in the afternoon, but there was some missed connection, so instead, I read up on Peruvian electrical codes. I found out that for the most part, there aren't any. Power points here will accept any European round-pinned or North American/Japanese flat pinned plugs, even though the former normally carry around 220V at 50Hz, and the latter about 110V at 60Hz. Peru's standard is really weird: 120V at 50Hz! In any case, each power point only has two holes: nothing has an earth connection ('grounding connection' in the U.S). I think this is why people sometimes get shocked by the water heaters we have in the showers, which do have an earth wire; it's just not connected to anything. However, our biodiesel generator apparently has a good solid earth connection, presumably something like the 3m rods that are standard in other parts of the world.

I plan to write up a proposal and cost estimate for connecting those heaters to that. Just expressing interest in this was enough for somebody to hand me the job of installing some emergency lighting, and everyone comes to me to ask electrical questions now. It's great that I can answer them—my half-degree in electrical engineering is a valued resource here! And that's exactly the sort of thing I was hoping to get out of doing this—feeling my skills are valued.

The sun is always shining in Pisco, but the streets and beaches are littered with rubbish and there’s a fecal content to the water. The building codes and living standards are sub-par, at best, compared to developed-world standards, but hey, it never rains. 

The desolate conditions are exactly why Burners Without Borders went there in the first place, and the reason Pisco Sin Fronteras remains today. The hundreds of volunteers that cycle through Pisco each month subject themselves to foodborne illness, demanding work schedules in harsh conditions and bunk-style, commodity-stripped accommodations, and they love every minute of it. 

If you’ve been to Burning Man, you know there’s something very rewarding about putting yourself out there in the harsh conditions, weathering the sun and storms and making it out alive. At PSF, though, you truly have a greater purpose to carry out your innermost desires for surviving apocalyptic conditions that many people in the area have endured on a permanent basis since the 2024 earthquake. 

In the three weeks I spent at PSF, I gained a true appreciation for the comforts of home that I lacked there. While a sacrifice for me, Pisco volunteers actually live in the higher echelon of people in that area. While we complained about eating rice, potatoes and chicken for the third time that week, many people of the region didn’t eat three times that week. While we groaned about going to the toilet so often from the very same food, many of the people that PSF helps didn’t have a toilet at all. And while we moaned about a 44 hour work week in the heat, the people we helped were happy to work by our side, in addition to maintaining their normal jobs, just to have a stable roof above their heads. Indeed, my work there proved that none of us has right to complain about much of anything.
 
As an experienced Spanish speaker, my language skills were in high demand around the organization, so I was able to get a pretty thorough glimpse of the situation in Pisco. On my first day of community assessment, I had the privilege of speaking with a police officer in one of the most underprivileged areas of Pisco, a shantytown called El Molino. 

He provided critical insight to the problems in the area, unrivaled by any other interviewee I met, and what an introduction it was. He told us that the number-one issue in the area is domestic violence—men beating women and children, and children beating their parents. He said the law prevents police from stepping in to a violent situation unless someone is unconscious or severely bleeding. There is little recourse for the victims, as well, since the only service is miles away and there are no shelters in the region. 

The second issue, he said, was a lack of sanitization and basic services. There is no pluming or garbage service and the people just throw their waste in the street or on the beach.  Lastly, he told us, the children are out of control. With few programs, lack of parental control and lack of education, the kids of the village simply run rampant. They smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol, form gangs and have children as early as age 12. 

The pang of this information made my heart sink into my shoes. “What can we do to help?” was my only reply. The most important solution, he said, is education—education of anyone, of any age, on any topic, really. Ignorance is the impetus of almost all of these hardships, and educating the people is the only solution. Of course, the government complicates matters by denying these people the basic services they need to survive happily, but simple, grassroots solutions exist to ameliorate some of the suffering. 

PSF recently constructed a school in the area and regularly works with community leaders and families to turn the situation around. This community faces challenges that seem nearly impossible to overcome, but that’s why we are there. My pain for them is comforted by the fact that so many people sign up every day to do whatever they can to support the betterment of this community.  Assistance of any and every kind is essential to lift these people out of this brutal situation. 

PSF is like a renegade family of drifters that has created an unstoppable machine of compassionate assistance. I feel blessed to have been a part of it, if only for a short time, and encourage anyone to join who needs a reminder of just how good we have it.  

Poured concrete today for a family's new bathroom.  We mixed it by hand, carried it in a wheelbarrow, and took turns shoveling the aggregate with Vladamir and Delia, the homeowners.  They were given permission to leave their jobs for the day to help out - Vladamir commented that his body wasn't used to the hard work because he works in a fish factory.  He worked his tail off, and so did his Mrs.

Tony spent the day building beds and doors.  I helped him out this morning with the beds (work is easy when you're sleeping with your boss) but left after lunch. At the risk of being too look-at-us-helping-poor-people-in-South-America, I'll tell you that we're buying one particular family new mattresses.  Currently all five of them share one dirty, floppy single mattress, and the least we can do is spend a few bucks on mattresses. They're cheap by our standards.  It was Tony's idea, and he's been planning it since the first week we got here.  He seems quite comfortable combining his carpentry skills with helping people.


The community development project I'm working on is shining light on the level of poverty that exists in South America.  I'm not new to the world of "have nots," though the lack of access to resources here in this town - and can I presume many other towns? - is such that the only food supplement program I've been able to find offers just two glasses of milk per month to kids who have a birth certificate.  Two glasses of milk a month.  You might burn more calories walking to get your glass of milk than you'll gain from drinking it.  This milk program is part of their equivalent to "social services" who's office does not have a phone, which highlights again the lack of access to resources.  If you're hungry here, unless I'm wrong, you're gonna be hungry for a while.

Moving on to the next subject: Domestic violence.  There is no shelter for victims of domestic violence in the entire province of Pisco.  There used to be one, but it was wrecked in the earthquake, and funds to build a new one have not come around since then.  At the moment, there's a great organization called Centro Emergencia Mujer which is a 9 to 5 operation that helps women who are being abused by their partners (why do I only mention the women, you ask? Because the men are just about always doing the beatings.  That's why).  If a situation is bad enough, the social worker at this Centro will bring the women to Lima to a shelter, but they need one here.  I'm meeting with the folks who run the Centro next Tuesday to see what they need for their center, who would run it, and how it was run before, because PSF could build that shelter.

Next topic: Lack of education.  School in Pisco is free, so long as you can afford supplies and uniforms, which are expensive relative to this local economy.  Social services helps with uniforms, so I asked them how to get one.  The family comes in to the office, fills out some paperwork, brings it to the mayors office, mayor's office verifies that they need help buying a uniform, they bring the form back to the office, maybe they get a uniform.  The workers here couldn't tell me how many uniforms they give out in one month, one week, or one year, because it's so few.  It's too complicated, they said, knowing that the run around was ridiculous.  And it's not their fault that they have limited resources to offer their community, they're just working with what they've been given.

So if you can afford to attend school, you'll generally finish around age 16.  At that point you can go to college, but most people can't afford it.  The idea of loans for college doesn't exist here.  To get a three year degree in nursing it costs about 400 US dollars, start to finish, including the certificate at the end.  400!  That's it!  That's what we spend in two months of dining out!  One month, sometimes.  But this is so much money to these people.  One family I met with only eats lunch because they can't afford anything else...they'll nearly never jump out of poverty if all they can ever afford is one meal per day.  Learning a skill or trade through education is so important, but if you can't access it then what to you do? The idea of paying for an education is impossible for them.

The problem isn't laziness.  Some people might be lazy, but poverty is so much more complex than simple laziness.  What I think would be fantastic to offer these people is some sort of scholarship program so they could learn a trade and earn an income.  I'm doing some research on how to run it, met with a few schools here, ask the families what they'd like to do.  Blah blah blah.  The cool thing about PSF is that they're interested in poverty relief as a compliment to disaster relief.  It's quite refreshing to offer professional skills in an environment where your ideas aren't hushed and quieted for lack of authority, but rather you're encouraged to make it happen.  There's hope, people.  Hope!

On my first day at Pisco Sin Fronteras I was told I couldn't use my real name, David. Not because they wanted to assign me a unique number prison style, or that they had a crazy alternate ego thing going on, this was because there was already another David there and I would confuse the 'Jobs and Chores Board'. I chose DJ - my first two initials (David John) - a nickname that I always wanted to be called as a child but that never stuck. Well, it well and truly stuck at PSF and now that I am leaving I'll have to start getting used to my real name again.

I have been very lucky at PSF. At my previous volunteer project, I had begun a construction project to help construct a dining room and kitchen in a schoolhouse for twelve children.  At the end of my time there we had managed to complete the foundations, columns and walls, but unfortunately I had to leave before the roof was constructed. On my first day at PSF though, I put my hand up for the 'French School' project and was amazed to see an almost identical building at almost the same point in construction! They were getting ready to pour one concrete roof and another needed construction. I couldn't believe my luck. I was, however, in for a completely different experience than the isolation of before. PSF is a work hard, play hard kind of place  and I think I have done my fair share of both since I've been here!

Later on that first day, the Project Leader at the time, Corey, asked me if I would like to take over the project at the weekend as he was due to leave then. I was taken aback. I filled with pride and fear. I was so nice to asked to lead a project, but did I want all the responsibility that came with it? I came here to work didn't I, but did I come here to lead? I did some thinking and chatted it over with friends and a few days later I accepted the role which I have loved doing for the past two months.

The French School is the biggest project that PSF has undertaken to date, and (as I announced as one of the interesting facts about the job one morning) we're not building a school, and they don't teach French! It's actually the construction of a dining-room and kitchen for school in nearby San Clemente, with the material costs provided by a French organisation who raise funds to build projects in Pisco each year. The school was badly damaged during the 2024 earthquake and currently has no way of feeding the students each day. Once complete, the facility will have a store room and new toilets too including one with disabled access. 

The construction site is run by the maestro Felix, a talented construction manager with no English, from nearby Paracas, who has worked with PSF on a previous project. Each day we would take 6-7 volunteers either in the back of the PSF truck or squeezed into the back of a taxi (2/3 in the boot/trunk!) and head off on the 15 minute ride to listening to whatever crazy Peruvian music the driver was listening to that day - the highlight being a day when the boot/trunk was half taken up by a massive speaker system playing a thumping rendition of Michael Jackson's Thriller! That will stay in my memory for a long time. Felix would take the time to teach volunteers how to perform tasks and then we would get on with the work - that simple process worked very well.

We've had successes on site - concrete pours are good days and we've had a few of those. We've also had a some interesting problems to solve, most noticeably recently with a former PSF Structural Engineer volunteer noticing that some of the design was not earthquake-proof, even though it had already been OK'd by two Peruvian engineers. The whole team stepped up to the challenge though, consulted with more Pisquenan engineers and came up with construction solutions which have now all be implemented at the same time as continuing with the regular work. 

My time here is now coming to an end and I have handed over the reigns to the next Project Leader who will hopefully be able to see it through to completion. I have had an amazing time at PSF, I have learnt many new skills and added another chapter to the construction of the French School. I have made life-long friends here too from around the world, and with that, has probably been the most difficult part for me, the saying goodbye. Still, I wouldn't change it for the world as this is an amazing place that will continue helping the people of Pisco, continue to let volunteers achieve their aspirations of helping others and hopefully spread the volunteering ethos back to each volunteer's own country and beyond.

Before I left home for Pisco I would tell people my plans for the next few months: “Yes, I’m going to South America for four months,” “Yes, by myself,” “Yes, to volunteer for 44 hours a week in a little town in Peru called Pisco.”  Most of the time I would get a response like: “Wow, that’s brave,” or “Wow, I could/would never do that,” or the straight-forward “Wow, Amy, you’re crazy.”  No, I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, but five weeks later, there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t been happy to be here, working hard and playing hard.

I arrived at Pisco Sin Fronteras on a Sunday afternoon, Super Bowl Sunday to be exact.  Sundays are the only full days off for volunteers here, so we certainly learn to use them to our advantage.  In true American football fashion there were about 10 to 15 volunteers piled in the back of the PSF truck, drinking beers and “tailgating” for the big game.  So what else was I to do but grab a beer and jump on in!

Then the work-week came.  Day 1: demolition (always a fun job); Day 2: I helped to build a door for a modular bathroom; and by Day 3 I was laying bricks, something I never expected to do in this lifetime.  The following week I started work on Karina’s house.  Her house was damaged in the earthquake, and she had huge cracks through her walls.  We worked alongside Karina’s husband and father to tear down all the damaged walls, and we are currently in the process of rebuilding her house back to its pre-earthquake state.  One day during lunch we got to chatting with Karina’s mother, Teresa.  She told us about her experience during the earthquake: Teresa was at home alone in her kitchen preparing food when the earthquake hit.  All the buildings around her collapsed, and she was trapped in her kitchen for hours until people were able to come rescue her.  During our chat, Teresa broke down in tears telling us how grateful she was for our help with her family and all around Pisco after the earthquake.  As I listened to Teresa’s story and her appreciation of the help we were providing, I almost broke down in tears myself.  Most of us can’t even begin to imagine what a tragedy like that must be like to live through.  Teresa and her family were incredibly lucky.  Yes, their house was damaged, but they all came out of it ok.  Teresa doesn’t take that for granted.

There are plenty of other families who need our help in Pisco.  We will soon be starting a project on a house for a sweet, young lady named Mayra.  Mayra lives with her daughter in a “house” made of ragged tarp and scrap pieces of wood.  Because of the state of her home, Mayra has had most of her possessions stolen from her at one time or another.  All Mayra wants is some security in her home so she and her daughter can sleep soundly at night without worrying about people invading her house and robbing her of her possessions, or worse, harming her daughter.  When we mentioned the possibility of putting in a concrete floor, Mayra’s eyes lit up in excitement.  She expressed so much gratitude in such a simple job as bringing her home some security.  I hope to be a part of Mayra’s project because she truly needs the help and will be very grateful for anything that we at PSF can do for her.

So when I reflect on my time before PSF and my time so far here at PSF, I can’t help but think that all those people back home are crazy for not being here, not experiencing what we as volunteers experience every day at Pisco Sin Fronteras.  We can all come “home” after a hard day of work here and feel that whatever it was we worked on that day was important, if only for one person, for one family, or for the entire community of Pisco.