You haven't heard from me for a few weeks because I had a guest in town two weeks ago, my good friend Basil, whom I went to UCLA with. This past week I went back to Spanish school and, quite frankly, didn't feel like writing or going to the Internet cafe. Sorry to all those who have written to me in the last few weeks, a response will come this week.

Well, here it is, Sunday the 25th of January . . . I'm sitting in bed, listening to the new Travis CD (which I bought for 5 soles, approx. $1.45 . . . it's impossible to buy real CDs here, they just don't sell them), it's partly cloudy outside, the Golden Globes are on tonight, and I'm about to tell you about . . .

MY TRAVELS WITH BASIL, part 1
PHOTOS

Basil arrived to Cusco on Thursday, Jan. 8 after a laborious amount of time traveling from Los Angeles to Miami, Miami to Lima, Lima to Cusco. I left school early so that I could pick him up at the airport at 11am. While I was waiting, a crowd of anxious fans seemed to be milling about, with even a few television cameras. Could it be people waiting anxiously for Basil, like myself?? Why did they want to capture his arrival on tape?? How did they know when he was coming in?? Well, they weren't waiting for Basil like myself, but rather for some futbol players coming in from Lima . . . Cienciano, the Copa Sudamerica campeons de Cusco!!

After that bit of commotion, I finally saw Basil and whisked him off to beautiful Chateu LaTorre. With the elevation change, I thought it best that we take it easy the first day so that he could acclimatize (0 to 11,000ft in one day!). We settled in for lunch and I was quite surprised by the amount of Spanish Basil had retained from his years studying it in school. His level was about at the same level as mine is now (although he says my listening comprehension is better). Throughout the week, he would attempt and succeed at some interesting discussions with my grandparents, who adored him. At times, of course, you just pretend like you know what they're talking about and smile.

Later that evening, we went out to pizza with my uncle Ricardo, when I noticed I was feeling a bit odd. Afterwards, we had plans to go to a friend's house and watch the Peru national futbol team play the Argentine national team, but I felt very achy and had to go home. Well, as luck would have it, I did come down with the flu that very night. Unfortunately, Basil also came down with a less intense cold the next day. We'd both be sick the week that he was here, but it wouldn't stop us from doing anything (which is why, two weeks later, I'm still getting over the last remnants of the illness).

That Friday I stayed home from school and sent Basil off on his own to discover Cusco. By Saturday, I was feeling well enough to venture out, so we met Ricardo for afterwork drinks, a Saturday afternoon tradition as most people who work 6 days a week get out by 1pm on Sat. Well, this lead to a bit of drunken tomfoolery, which climaxed when Ricardo tried to drink a burning shot of anis from a metal shot glass, without using his his hands. To the drunken mind this might seem like a fun thing to do, but I have to tell you that the only result was a pair of burnt lips which, over the next few days, swelled profusely. There are, at times, casualties in the quest for divertido (spanish for 'fun'). Well, we were hoping to go out dancing that evening, but the afternoon left us in no state to do anything other than pass out.

Come Sunday, Basil and I were determined to go out and see some of the sights. Since I arrived here in November, I have purposely avoided seeing any of the tourist sights, knowing that I'd have plenty of opportunity to see them repeatedly when my many guest came for a visit. So this Sunday, Basil and I set out to visit Sacsayhuaman, the Inca ruins above Cusco (which is the head in the original puma design of the city). We decided to walk there from the Plaza de Armas, which is a rather tiring ascent up hundreds of stairs.

After about half an hour, we made it to the top and meandered though the ruins. The most defining thing about these ruins are the absolutely immense size of stones, weighing many tons, which are fitted perfectly together. Like the pyramids of ancient Egypt, we have no idea how they transported these gigantic stones to their present location. Other highlights of Sacsayhuaman include smoothed stone grooves in the side of a hill which make excellent slides and a cave which becomes pitch dark and transports you from one side of a hill to the other.

Originally, we planned on taking a trip to Lake Titicaca on Monday, but we decided to push it back a day and try to get a bit healthier, knowing that this part of the trip would be a bit more strenuous. On Tuesday, we hopped on an early bus to Puno, arrived around 3pm and decided to check into 3-star hotel in order to have another night comfortable accommodations before we headed out to the lake the next day. The rest of the day was spent booking our travel out to islands on the lake and trip home on Thursday.

About 7am the next morning, we were picked up by our guide and taken, along with our fellow passengers (including a family from Uruguay and a bunch of Aussies, Germans, and French), to a boat in Puno bay. We proceeded out to the 'floating islands' of the Uros people. These are literally man-made islands, made of reeds, that the Uros people have lived on for hundreds of years. Altogether, there are about 50 of them. Only a few are open to tourists to peruse. Of course, the presence of the tourist trade means that most everybody on the island that you are visiting tries to sell you artisan goods. I'm not a big fan of little chachkis, so I didn't really have much interest (we joked that if you turn over any of these little replicas of reed boats, you'd probably fine the moniker 'Made in China' . . . they all look so produced). After visiting one island, we were treated to a reed boat ride over to another island, so we could purchase more chachkis.

After our Uros experience, we again boarded the boat and began our journey to the first of two real islands we would be visiting on the lake, Isla Taquile. We docked and hour and a half later and were treated to the first bit of sun that we saw the whole day. Lucky for us, the sun seemed to be out only over the islands that we were visiting that day. We hiked up a stone path for half an hour and eventually little houses started appearing along the way. The scene seemed something out of The Lord of the Rings and we were in The Shire. I expected Hobbits to jump out and greet us at any moment. Eventually, we made our way into the main village of the town, where we had a bit of time to explore the shops before meeting for a damned good lunch, featuring a very tasty fish, fresh from the lake. The men of the island are known for their knitting, and knitted products are what they sell in their shops. They have a custom on Taquile that the men wear different types of hats based on their marriage status . . . married men wear red knitted caps and unmarried men wear red and white ones.

After lunch, we walked to the other side of the island, descending hundreds of steep steps to another port to catch our boat. Our boat was manned by a family, with the father acting as captain, his wife as first mate, and their children along for the ride, very much providing entertainment for the passengers. One of their sons was old enough to walk and they seemed to have no problem letting him go anywhere on the boat, even on the narrow sideboards or playing on the front deck while we were out on the lake.

After another 45 minutes, we reached our final destination for the day, Isla Amantani, where we were paired up with island families for the night. Basil and I followed our house mother up and up and up and up the slope of the island until we finally reached her humble home. We were ushered into our room, which was surprisingly much more accommodating than I anticipated. I had a feeling that our room, because of the money that tourism brings, was probably the most comfortable in the house.

After a little rest, Basil and I went to explore a bit before we had to return home for dinner. We continued up a nearby path and found a rock to sit on and watch the island. Nearby, a couple of island toddlers found us very interesting, but only from afar. When I approached, all smiles were forgotten and the boys just stood there timidly. We had been warned that the islanders were naturally quite timid. I tried to dazzle the kids by taking their picture with my digital camera and showing them their picture. Usually, this gets a great reaction from children (and is a great way to get them to want their picture taken without having to pay them). These kids had no idea what to think, so eventually I thought it best to go back to my rock.

We returned to the house, had a rest, and then joined the parents in the kitchen for dinner. There is no electricity on either island and the Lake Titicaca region is remarkably cold, so the kitchen was the warmest place around. It consisted of a mud structure with a typical thatched roof to protect it from the elements. The wood burning stove was in one corner and was what gave off the most light. We sat on a wood log and talked with the father of the family as we sipped our delicious (and very natural) soup and ate our rice and stew main plate. The father was at home for only a month because he works in Lima selling alpaca goods and only returns for two months out of the year, once in January and again in August. He does all this so that his family has money and so that his kids can get an education (there are five, 4 boys and 1 girl).

After dinner, the host families on the island like to dress up the new arrivals in traditional clothes and meet at a central event space to teach them traditional dances. I didn't actually get the idea that this is something they particularly like to do, but rather is an agreed upon activity to support tourism on the island. Either way, it was enjoyable and we spent the night spinning in circles until we were ready to drop. The rain started to piss down while we danced (maybe we unknowingly were part of a rain dance?). Fortunately, our host family's house was only a short walk away, so we dashed into the rain, finding our way among the dark stone pathways with flashlights. We climbed into our beds, and fell asleep to the sounds of hard rain. I woke several times during the night and the rain continued to come down until dawn.

As luck would have it, we happened to be on the island on the day of the islander's big festival of the year. On this day, contingents from each of the islands 8 villages, climb to one of two temples on each of the two main peaks of the island, Pachamama or Pachatata (Mother Earth or Father Earth, respectively), and make offerings to the earth. While at one time this probably would have included only animals and food produced on the island, in our modern times, this now includes industrially-produced, store-bought food items, including bottled soda, crackers, rice, and the like. The ceremony was to start at 11am, but an onslaught of cold rain found us seeking cover from the elements for an hour or two. It was rather miserable.

After the underwhelming ceremony finally concluded, we walked to an area between the two peaks for a feast. Luckily, the sun came out and we basked in it. Our hosts rolled out a long cloth upon which they poured a feast of potatoes, roots, beans, and just about any other brown and starchy thing you can think of. Fortunately, this wasn't the feast, just the appetizer. Afterward, they served some yummy soup and fried fish with rice and potatoes. Mmmmm . . . soup and fish.

After the feast, we briskly walked down the mountain, picked up our bags from our host family, said goodbye (in the form of a hug and 50 soles, as a thank you), and rushed off to our awaiting boat. The ride back to Puno was hell for me, as the combination of a congested head and the rough waves, conspired to make me mildly seasick. As Basil is the master of planning (and he should be, as he's a First Assistant Director on Hollywood films) he handed me some dramamine and, in an hour, I was all better (seasick-wise). As we approached the port of Puno, we got caught in a particularly choppy and intense storm, so while everyone else was bouncing up and down, turning a light shade of green, I was perfectly fine.

We finally reached dry land and rushed off to catch our bus back to Cusco, arriving at 3am on Friday morning, tired but looking forward to the next leg of our trip . . . Machu Picchu.

To be continued . . .

So what's been going on since Xmas? Not a whole heck of a lot. I just finished my 3 week pause in classes and realize that I really need to continue with them because they provide an overall structure for my trip and, no surprise, really improve my spanish.

It's odd being the traveller who is staying put. Cusco is such a tourist town, travelers coming and going, I make friends and then, within a couple of weeks, they leave. I went back to school today and there are a whole new group of people. I suppose I should befriend more Peruvians, but the language is still a bit of a barrier.

PHOTOS. I decided to create a little photographic tour of Cusco from my perspective, more to come later. Click the link or go to:
http://public.fotki.com/timSAA/cusco_tour_part_i/

NEW YEAR'S EVE. Even though I had been invited by my Peruvian friend Sandy to go to Urubamba for New Year's eve, I decided that I wanted to stay put and see how it is celebrated by Cusquenos in Cusco. Well, as it turns out, it seems as though a lot of Cusquenos go to Urubamba to celebrate since the town becomes infested with Peruvian tourists from Arequipa and Lima who come to party for the week.

I met my Dutch friend Alex at a restaurant that his friend Juliana, a Peruvian girl that he has taken a liking to, just bought with her sister. After playing a Jenga-like game for an hour, we met up with my friend Nadia and went out to the Plaza to see what was going on. The place was crowded with people waiting for the new year. We met some of Nadia's friends, bought some champagne, and hung out.

When midnight finally came, the place exploded, and not in a good way. No, Cusco was not lit up with just reverie, but with fireworks. And not some great fireworks display, but random people lighting off firecrackers, M80s, and occasional bottle rockets. We stood in a street and saw people starting to literally throw firecrackers at passers-by. We started to grow a little fearful.

We knew it was time to take cover when some dumb-ass decided it was a good idea to set off bottle rockets down the street toward the crowd, instead of into the sky. The final straw was when one of these rockets flew towards us and exploded right between our heads, causing Nadia to have a small wound on her cheek. Thankfully, it was easily taken care of with a band-aid.

We decided to take shelter in a nearby alleyway. This protected us for a while until a family came out and decided that it was a good idea to let their 5-year-old light off some firecrackers. When he accidentally dropped some lit firecrackers at our feet, we knew it was time to go. When one of my friends commented to her that maybe it wasn't a good idea for her kid to have firecrackers, but she responded with something like (in Spanish) "He's just a kid, he doesn't know better". Then why give him firecrackers?

Anyway, the night ended with us heading over to my uncle Ricardo's favorite club, El Ritmo Latino, for a night of dancing (and I guess a bit of drunken reverie . . . but not me, of course).

I can't say I had the best time. Those fireworks really made me want to hit someone. I guess the Cusqueno's do know something: it's better to go to Urubamba for New Year's. Note to self.

Tim