Latin America

The Flat, 19.20.

Well. That totally did not pan out the way I expected.

I’m not really one for football. When my students ask me what team I support – as boys can be relied upon to do year after year – my answer is a slightly evasive Real Betis, but to be honest, that’s only because of my fondness for the city of Sevilla and the Andalusian colours of its uniform. I couldn’t name you any of their players, nor have I ever watched any of their games.

The World Cup, however, is another matter entirely. Living and working in a boys’ boarding house pretty much demands an investment in the ups and downs of the world’s largest football competition, and with so many underdog teams defying the odds and Mr Trump meddling directly in the politics of the game, this one really has been one to watch.

When England blew past the Democratic Republic of Congo last week to secure a place in the last 32, I’ll admit, I didn’t fancy our chances. Playing vainglorious Mexico on their home turf, and in the high-altitude Estadio Azteca, no less? I really thought it might be a hard-fought but richly-deserved win for El Tri. Watching Judge Bellingham score not one but two goals within the space of a minute was electric here at home, so I can’t even begin to imagine what it must have been like for the small battalion of England fans in the stadium, surrounded by an army of Mexicans in green and white, looking for all the world like Cortes and his Spaniards outnumbered by the Aztecs. I have to admit, by the end of the game, even this dyed-in-the-wool Hispanist was rooting for his home country. It was genuinely one of the best games I’ve seen in a while. I’ve always held up El Clasico as the gold standard, but after the last two Madrid/Barca games I watched ended in 0:0, this year’s World Cup has been a serious breath of fresh air.

I’m actually quite excited about the fact that I’m going to be in the Americas for the grand finale. Granted, Latin America’s involvement in the World Cup has come to an end with their defeat against Kane’s team: the rest of the games are in the unforgivingly tight grip of North America. However, Argentina and Colombia are still in the game, and in a matter of hours, we will know whether Spain or Portugal has made it through to the quarterfinals, so there is hope for the Spanish-speaking world yet. In a World Cup that has been shared with Mexico, that is not an insignificant detail. Given that I will be in Latin America for the next month and a half, it would be pretty electric to see one of the Latin teams make it all the way to the final.

Chile has rodeo, which is a sport I’ve always wanted to see. However, since I’m going in winter, I don’t think that’s something I’m going to achieve in my trip this time. I wouldn’t say no to some kind of sporting spectacle, though. It still surprises me to hear myself say that, but then, I guess my job must be rubbing off on me – and in a good way. It can’t hurt to be a little more open-minded. BB x

21.56. The Flat.

I’ve done it again. I’ve signed myself up for another mad adventure. As whim decisions go, this one is definitely up there with swapping jobs for a change of scene and flying to the States for a third date.

There wasn’t even much of a build-up to it. I had a relatively quiet weekend not on duty. On Saturday morning I taught a couple of sixth form lessons, marked some speaking exams and wound down with a little Arkham City. By Sunday night I had a one-way ticket to Lima for the absurdly low price of £250. I still need to think about the return journey, but that’s a tomorrow problem.

Why now? Simply put I’ve been hankering for a proper adventure for a while now. Social media will do that to you, I suppose, though I’d be more inclined to believe that my full-on, six-days-a-week job played a larger role.

And why Peru? Well, there’s any number of reasons. The fact that it’s a Spanish-speaking country is the main one, and the crazy bargain price I snagged is another (seriously, I’ve never found flights that cheap and I’ve been looking on and off for years) – and then, of course, there’s the wildlife, probably the most understated incentive behind any of my adventures.

I’ve been considering India, Japan and South Africa for the best part of ten years, but each has its own complications. India requires all of the jabs, Japan is expensive both to get to and to get around (never mind the language barrier), and South Africa – or at least the parts I want to see – is downright dangerous.

There’s also the fact that I always feel I have to justify my holidays. As a Spanish teacher, exploring South America can only add to the sum of what I can pass on to the students under my aegis.

At least, that’s how I intend to justify gallivanting off to the land of the Incas for three weeks.

I read an article today about the fitness frenzy afflicting my generation (the millennials). Apparently we spend more on the gym, supplements and sportswear than we do on other social activities. I’m definitely not in that demographic, but I can believe that claim.

I’ve seen the shift before my very eyes in the time I’ve worked in boarding. I don’t remember the gym being much of a feature when I was at school, or protein powder, or supplements, or any of that nonsense. Omega 3 fish oil, maybe, but none of this “cut” and “bulk” insanity. These days it’s everywhere. The Underground train was full of garish posters selling the stuff two weeks ago, alongside a rosy ad for a fertility clinic. From PTs to PBs, designer shorts to designer bottles and all the weird chemistry-set-sounding stuff people ingest – and none of it cheap – fitness seems to have become the new luxury product on the market.

Perhaps that’s an inevitable outcome of a world where our work and most of our lives is so very (and depressingly) sedentary. I do worry about them, though. About how self-centred the world is becoming. About the mental health behind the physical wall.

I’m in no position to judge, of course. If I harbour any cynicism for this trend, it’s largely because I’m well aware I’m on the outside looking in. Fitness is clearly a social activity, and here I am writing my thoughts on the matter from the quiet of my living room, surrounded by the thousand or so books I’ve managed to accrue while most of my contemporaries have been out making friends and finding lovers – or pumping iron. Instead, I’ve been building a library. It’s what my great-grandfather Mateo always wanted. Would he have wanted it for me though, I wonder?

Honestly, I think I’ve been into a gym three times in my life, but since two of them were duty supervision shifts for work, I’m not sure they count. All I know about the gym is that a very dear friend of mine went into one years ago and never came back. It might be a poor excuse, but it’s a pretty major reason for my lifelong wariness of those places.

No. As usual, I’m fighting the current. Contrary to the rest of my generation, I’m prioritising my time, when and while I still have it, on the equally self-centred task of traveling solo, to learn as much about the world as I can. One day, if I should be so lucky, there may be a family in my life, and while I would trade away all the things that I do for even one day of that traditional idyll, I am conscious that I would miss my freedom.

So I’m taking a punt and getting out of the country for a bit – and this time, to somewhere other than Spain (though admittedly I am spending the weekend prior in Madrid, as it brought the flight costs down by a couple of hundred).

I’m not really a planner, but this will definitely require a fair amount of it. Peru may be Spanish-speaking, but it definitely isn’t Spain – it’s a little over two and a half times the size. I don’t intend to do Machu Picchu – like Petra, I fear the wonder of that vista from the Puerta del Sol has long been scourged by a horde of millennial photographers – so I will be seeking out some of the country’s other gems. It’s a work in progress, but for now, I’m thinking of:

The Nazca lines (from the air)
The Mummies of Chauchilla
Hummingbirds (wherever they may be!)
Semana Santa in Cusco
The Palomino islands (penguins, pelicans and sea lions)
Apurímac Canyon (to find an Andean condor or two)
Parque Nacional del Manu (for monkeys, mainly, but also to see the Amazon Rainforest on the other side of the Andes)
Taquile and the floating islands of the boatmen of Uros, Lake Titicaca (partly because it’s come up in the same IB Language B past paper for seven years, but also because I read about them when I was seven and they fascinated me)
Sacsayhuaman (Inca ruins that aren’t always in the cover of Wanderlust magazine – and one of the best place names in the Americas, period)
If time allows, possibly a mad jaunt over the border to La Paz and the Salar de Uyuni, the vast salt flats on the edge of the Atacama Desert that comprise the world’s largest natural sky-mirror