When I told my father that I wanted to study tourism and become a tour guide, he did not like the idea at all.
“How can you become a guide?” he asked. “Guides talk. You are mute.”
Of course, I was not actually mute. I was simply a very shy young man who hardly spoke. And speaking English—let alone guiding international tourists—seemed completely out of reach.
But I decided to study tourism anyway.
After graduating, reality hit me. In those days, if you wanted to work as a guide in Cusco, English was essential. I knew the history, the culture, and the archaeology, but I could not communicate effectively in English.
So I became a porter on the Inca Trail.
Back then, porters carried far more than the 20-kilogram limit that exists today. Day after day, I carried heavy loads while searching for ways to learn English on my own.
One day, while looking through some old belongings in my father’s house, I found something that would change my life: an English course called The Three-Way Method to English.
As I remember, it was produced in the United States, possibly in association with Columbia University. The course came with vinyl records, textbooks, dictionaries, exercises, and exams. There were six records in the first level and five in the second.
It was an incredible learning system.
I listened to those records day and night.
Again and again.
Page one, lesson one.
Page one, lesson one.
Page one, lesson one.
I repeated every word, every phrase, every exercise.
I consider myself largely self-taught. Learning English this way was difficult, and progress was slow. Many tourists would tell me:
“You know a lot, but you cannot explain it in English.”
Those comments frustrated me deeply.
I knew the information. I knew the stories. I knew the mountains and the history. But I lacked the language to share them.
Still, I refused to quit.
Besides The Three-Way Method, another tool helped me tremendously.
In the 1990s, many travelers arrived carrying small phrasebooks. They came in different language combinations: English-Spanish, French-Spanish, Hebrew-Spanish, German-Spanish, and many others.
One day, a tourist gave me one as a gift.
The book was small enough to fit in my pocket, but for me it became a treasure.
Tourists used it to communicate in Spanish. I used it in reverse.
Whenever I learned a new Spanish word, I searched for its English equivalent. The phrasebook also included pronunciation guides written phonetically, which helped me understand how words sounded.
My pronunciation was far from perfect. I knew many words but could not pronounce them correctly. Furthermore, much of the technical vocabulary used in tourism and guiding was not included in The Three-Way Method.
The phrasebook filled that gap.
For years, it traveled with me on the Inca Trail.
Interestingly, it also introduced me to basic words and expressions in French and Hebrew, languages I would hear frequently from visitors to Cusco.
At that time, there were English schools in Cusco, but attending them was difficult. My first child had already been born, and supporting my family had to come first. Spending several hours each day in a classroom simply was not an option.
So I learned whenever and wherever I could.
On the trail.
At home.
While working.
While carrying backpacks through the Andes.
Looking back, I am grateful for those old-fashioned learning methods. The vinyl records. The phrasebooks. The travel books that tourists carried around the world.
They may seem simple today, but they changed my life.
Years later, English opened doors I never imagined possible. It allowed me to become a guide, connect with people from every corner of the world, build friendships across cultures, and eventually create my own tourism company.
Sometimes I think back to my father’s words.
“Guides talk. You are mute.”
He was wrong.
Not because I was a natural speaker.
But because persistence can be louder than talent.
And sometimes all it takes is a backpack, a few old vinyl records, and the determination to keep turning the page.
