As you may know, it was Easter this weekend. Which means everyone in Latin America takes Thursday and Friday off. The other volunteers and I decided to go to Arequipa, a 15 hour bus ride to the south. It’s known as Canyon country. I spent Friday and Saturday hiking, climbing ruins, seeing condors, and seeing the second deepest canyon in the world. It was a lovely extended weekend. 
Then came the fifteen hour bus ride back. We made seven hours of the journey. We stopped at two in the morning, and did not move for the rest of the night. I saw lines of cars around us, so I knew we were not in trouble. If we had been reading every piece of Peruvian news, we would have known that the miners were planning on striking; however, we had not been up to date on the current events. We woke up in the morning to find ourselves in a line of buses, filled with people like us, trying to get back to Lima after the holiday.
We were in Chala, a small finishing/mining town. We learned why we had stopped. The government wanted to legitimize an illegitimate mining industry, meaning creating environmental restrictions, and, presumably, taxes. It was seven in the morning, the word on the street was that we might get through the blockade by 1pm. And by blockade I mean 8,000 miners blocking the road, with only 500 policemen. 
I heard shots being fired. I saw a helicopter arrive on the beach (at least we were at the beach). I saw tear gas fired. I saw tires burning. I saw 5 buses pass through that had been at the front of the strikes, their windows smashed as concerned Peruvians looked through the broken glass. Thankfully, I was not near the front. Then we heard rumor that some miners had died. The protests had just been moved up a notch. I could see armed military men standing on top of the police station. We would have turned around, but around 100 km behind us, there was another blockade. So we were kinda stuck. The miners never wanted to hurt us, but they did want to make their voices heard. I was never in trouble, just uncomfortable and on edge.
We decided to move 5 km back to a what I would call a trucker stop. Along with about 20 other coach buses (1000 people) we cleaned out the restaurant, the food, and desanitarized the toilets so you couldn’t go to the bathroom without holding your breath. We were in the desert, next to the ocean. I went to bed having eaten one meal that day, but having stocked up on plenty of water. I went to bed calmly, knowing the miners would not come to where we were. I went to bed almost positive that in the morning, we would be on the way to Lima.
The next morning, things started getting ugly, people were screaming at each other about what to do. The bus company wanted to just wait it out. There was not food. Only a small portion of cheese for children. Our bus collectively decided to go back to Arequipa. Some people couldn’t afford to go back and pay for another ticket, so they decided to wait it out. The place was a disaster–no clean toilets, no food, hardly any water. Unfortunate that people were forced to stay there (voluntarily or not). There was no news as to when the blockade at Chala would stop, but it was rumored that things were ugly there. On the other had, it wasn’t clear that we would actually be able to make it past the blockade that was behind us, but we had heard that other buses had made it through the less severe blockade of only 3,000 miners, and no deaths. 
We made it back, with only a 45 min stop at the other blockade, and relatively peaceful passing. Seven hours later we, were in Arequipa. And thus ended my over 48 hours on a bus. We went to the airport, where the government was giving out free military flights back to Lima for those who had been on buses. Why was the government was investing their money in that, rather than in quelling the protests? Well, they didn’t want to give into the miners demands. And they decided to just wait it out. So Monday night, at 12 in the morning, I got on a Peruvian air force plane and flew home. The main reason I got a flight so rapidly, was because I was American. I felt bad. So did the other volunteers, and two of them stayed behind, to wait there turn in line. I felt it was a situation that did not have a correct response. Any Peruvian would have lambasted me for giving up my opportunity to go home. Yet I didn’t feel it was right. I wanted to stay. Then I started thinking about what would happened if I stayed. Well, I would probably just be getting on a flight the next morning, in front of some other Peruvians, and still feel bad. Really, there was no right answer. I got my house at 3 in the morning, and crashed.
