I should of been a rape victim. On the boat with me was a priest, two scout leaders and a Peruvian. I was 12 and being offered tesco value beer by these brutes to which i refrained. "Stay safe, stay sober" the twelve year old me thought. We had been sailing to Shotley and back just for something to do, or at least that's what i thought at the time. It makes sense years later that should i have accepted the Tesco value lager, the something to do would of been me.
The Peruvian was there under dubious pretenses. The priest was friends with him when he was assigned to a church on the Peruvian cordillera of the Andes 10 years ago. That the Peruvian was only 20 now begged the question why the priest was friends with a ten year old anyway. well it did in my undeveloped 12 year old head, but not in any minds of the adult congregation who didn't seem to question this strange friendship.
So the priest had the Peruvian shipped over, under the guise of a cultural exchange. To keep himself busy whilst the priest did gods work he did the priests housework and gardening. It was through my role as a gardener i met the Peruvian. His English wasn't great and my Spanish was non existent yet we clicked in a platonic friendship way. i stuck to my English gentleman tools of the trade and was embarrassed by his superior work rate using nothing but a pick axe.
"gardening should be a leisure" the 12 year old me would say.
"me violaciones" The Peruvian would reply. I thought he was saying in his native tongue something about vultures at the time, so i shrugged it off, and let him finish most of the work before we went inside the priests abode for some lunch.
Inside i remarked about the guitar whilst he made a few sandwiches and grabbed some crisps.
"I tocar la guitarra" said the Peruvian whilst gesturing for me to pick it up. "Se puede jugar?"
whilst saying this he pointed to me and gestured a strum so i imagined he was asking if i played.
"no", i said, safe in the knowledge it meant the same in most languages. i passed the guitar to him and he began to play traditional Peruvian music. I ate my sandwich whilst i listened to him play and made an executive decision as head gardener, "were done gardening for today. lets go Busking instead."
"bus-king" the Peruvian replied slow and broken.
"yes, your a very talented man, i am going to take you to a place where we can make lots of money quickly, where we wont be troubled by the cops." i was getting very excited, i remembered the commotion around the Peruvian group who performed at the town hall to rapturous applause and bulging begging baskets. "its a ten minute walk" i announced in a language the Peruvian didn't really understand but with an enthusiasm he was drunk on. We walked with his guitar and blowpipes through the park and towards the town centre.
We headed for the subway and we played for half an hour. I say we, he played and blew and sung and i held out a hat. we got 15 pounds, i took 12 and left him with three. he knew he was being robbed but he had a good time and enjoyed himself and he much preferred it to being raped by a priest.
The Peruvian was there under dubious pretenses. The priest was friends with him when he was assigned to a church on the Peruvian cordillera of the Andes 10 years ago. That the Peruvian was only 20 now begged the question why the priest was friends with a ten year old anyway. well it did in my undeveloped 12 year old head, but not in any minds of the adult congregation who didn't seem to question this strange friendship.
So the priest had the Peruvian shipped over, under the guise of a cultural exchange. To keep himself busy whilst the priest did gods work he did the priests housework and gardening. It was through my role as a gardener i met the Peruvian. His English wasn't great and my Spanish was non existent yet we clicked in a platonic friendship way. i stuck to my English gentleman tools of the trade and was embarrassed by his superior work rate using nothing but a pick axe.
"gardening should be a leisure" the 12 year old me would say.
"me violaciones" The Peruvian would reply. I thought he was saying in his native tongue something about vultures at the time, so i shrugged it off, and let him finish most of the work before we went inside the priests abode for some lunch.
Inside i remarked about the guitar whilst he made a few sandwiches and grabbed some crisps.
"I tocar la guitarra" said the Peruvian whilst gesturing for me to pick it up. "Se puede jugar?"
whilst saying this he pointed to me and gestured a strum so i imagined he was asking if i played.
"no", i said, safe in the knowledge it meant the same in most languages. i passed the guitar to him and he began to play traditional Peruvian music. I ate my sandwich whilst i listened to him play and made an executive decision as head gardener, "were done gardening for today. lets go Busking instead."
"bus-king" the Peruvian replied slow and broken.
"yes, your a very talented man, i am going to take you to a place where we can make lots of money quickly, where we wont be troubled by the cops." i was getting very excited, i remembered the commotion around the Peruvian group who performed at the town hall to rapturous applause and bulging begging baskets. "its a ten minute walk" i announced in a language the Peruvian didn't really understand but with an enthusiasm he was drunk on. We walked with his guitar and blowpipes through the park and towards the town centre.
We headed for the subway and we played for half an hour. I say we, he played and blew and sung and i held out a hat. we got 15 pounds, i took 12 and left him with three. he knew he was being robbed but he had a good time and enjoyed himself and he much preferred it to being raped by a priest.
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