Cusco, Peru
I've had some bad luck with my health as of late. First, I came down with a throat infection, a condition that often pops up when I spend time in foreign countries for a lengthy period of time. Then, this past weekend, I must have had some sort of 24-hour stomach virus. Needless to say, I spent almost the entire weekend in bed.
Other than illness, I've mainly been preparing for my forthcoming entrance into the world of teaching English, which will start next week. I'm a little nervous about taking on such an endeavor, but I also have a hunch that the experience will prove rewarding. I've never had the experience of being a teacher (don't tell the school that), so what unnerves me is the act of standing in front of a classroom and being in charge, but something inside tells me that I'll have some of the inherent skills to handle it.
Wish me luck and welcome back to the continuing adventures of Tim . . .
CHICLAYO, PERU: THE ARRIVAL
Honestly, by the time I crossed the border from Ecuador at La Tina, Peru, I was pretty much ready to be home in Cusco. I think I would have had more patience for being on the road had I not a Peruvian place to call home, however temporary. But as Cusco (and my own bed) now seemed within reach, once the fatigue of the road had set in, I was ready to return to it.
I crossed the border on an overnight bus from Loja, Ecuador, traveling with the group of Irish and British nationals I had met in Vilcabamba. We decided to take the bus all the way to the coastal town of Chiclayo (Loja is actually in the Ecuadorian Andes) so that we could explore some of the nearby ruins, which included Sipan (a Moche civilization site discovered in 1987, whose golden treasures I had seen as they toured the U.S. in 1993).
Arriving in a new city is always the most precarious part of traveling. You are arriving in a place where you don't have your geographic or economic bearings and trying to make sure that you don't get taken advantage of. This is the traveler's most vulnerable state (and when most crimes against travelers seem to take place). As we were traveling in a larger-than-usual group of six and being dropped off at the Terminal Terrestre (bus station), we were in a bit safer situation, except my internal meter for what things cost in Peru was totally off, having spent a month and a half using American dollars and cents. One of my companions agreed to pay 5 soles for each taxi to take us to our hotel. It seemed reasonable to me, it's only about $1.45. Well, we loaded the cars with our bags, told the drivers which hostel we wanted to be taken to, and set off. Five minutes later, the cars pulled up to a hostel, but it was not the one we asked for.
The group in the other taxi seemed engrossed in a confused conversation with the driver. Having been the only one of us to have spent some time in Peru (added to the fact that I'm half Peruvian), I felt that I was probably the best suited to handle the situation. I asked the driver why we had stopped at this hostel and, unperturbedly, he stated that this hostel was as good as the one we asked for. My memory returned and it all started to come back to me: 'ah, yes, we're in Peru'. I then asked if gets some sort of kickback from taking people to this hostel. He, unconvincingly, replied that he did not. I talked to my companions and we decided upon another hostel to be taken to.
By this time I was starting to get a feel of the geographical makeup of the downtown area we were in (in case you didn't know, one of my superpowers is a really good sense of direction). This time, the drivers drove us to the correct address. We unloaded the bags and went to pay the taxi drivers their 5 soles each. The driver I paid had a unsatisfied look on his face and then attempted to explain to me that since they had taken us to 2 destinations we had to pay 10 soles for each taxi! I, being very tired and quite aware that they were trying to hustle us, chewed them out, explaining that since we never even wanted to go to the first destination we wouldn't be paying for it. I gave him the choice, he could either take the 5 soles or he could leave with nothing. I've used that ploy many times now, and it always seems to straighten them out. He jumped in the taxi with the 5 soles and sped away. It wasn't until a couple days later that my economic compass for Peru fully returned and I realized that the average price from the Terminal Terrestre in a town the size of Chiclayo should have really been 3 soles. Oh well, not bad for my first day back in Peru.
A LITTLE RANT ABOUT HOW TO AVOID GETTING CHEATED
I'd like to take a moment to share with you some of the basics I've learned about traveling and not getting cheated. These apply for pretty much anywhere in the world, but especially to Peru. Unfortunately, much to my disappointment, I have found that Peruvians are much more willing to cheat you than the Ecuadorians were. I understand why this is: Peru, quite frankly, is a much poorer country than Ecuador and they've got some bad attitudes and habits built into their culture. It's as if they think 'if everyone is screwing us (the government, the U.S., the West, and thus gringo travelers), why don't we screw them first' or 'Gringos, have lots of money. They deserve to get screwed'. In fact, many times Peru feels like an unending stream of people trying to get something from you, sell you something to you, or simply trying to cheat or steal from you. That's not to say it's necessarily dangerous, it's really just petty crimes like pick-pocketing, street scams, and the like. No, you just have to be smart.
I found that the skills you pick up living in New York City make you a much better traveler than other places people are from in the States, where they tend to be just outright paranoid (which actually makes them an easier target, as they wear their fear 'on their sleeves', so to speak). We New Yorkers walk around as though you shouldn't mess with us (and generally speaking, people don't). Here are some of my tips:
1. WHEN ARRIVING IN A NEW CITY. Before you get to the area where you have to take a taxi to your local destination, always speak with a local that is traveling on the same bus (plane, etc) and ask how much it would cost for a taxi (or any local service, for that matter) to your destination. Locals who are traveling home to your destination don't really have an interest in cheating you (as most people in the world are good, honest, hard-working members of society). They will not benefit from misleading you and all they really want to do is get home. It's a good way to get an idea of what things cost where you're going (and make a local friend at the same time).
2. WHEN TAKING A TAXI. Some cities have taxis that use meters and, when you can find one, it's great. Most cities that I've been to in Ecuador have taxis in which the meter 'is not working' or, in Peru, they simply don't have them. Again, ask a local before you catch a taxi how much it should cost to go somewhere. Always speak with taxi driver and arrange a price BEFORE you get into the car. Then, don't pay the driver until AFTER you've gotten yourself and your luggage out of the car. As long as you haven't paid them, YOU HAVE THE POWER. There are times when a taxi is running out of gas and they actually need to use your fair to pay for some, which they will actually do on route. In these situations, you just have to go with the flow. Also, don't pay them until they have taken you exactly to where you want to go. Peruvian customers will sometimes allow some slack on this, but we Americans never will!!
3. DON'T GIVE THE CHILDREN HANDOUTS. I can't tell you how many times a scruffy little kid has come up to me holding out their dirty little hands, looking at you with their big, sad eyes and whining 'por favor, por favor (please, please)'. They have perfected the most effective intonation of their whine on Gringos. This may sound like I have a cold heart, but so often I've seen one of my friends hand over some change and, as soon as the kid has stepped out the door of the restaurant we're sitting at, they suddenly are no longer starving, but happy little kids on their way to go buy some candy (or worse). Listen, if you want to help the children, please donate money to organizations like CARE or UNICEF. I know that they're kind of cute (in a dirty, scruffy way) and they look like they're starving, but there are better ways to help them. And, honestly, the kids that you give change to now are most likely to be the ones that will pickpocket you a few years from now, as they have it burned in their brains that Gringos are always flush full of cash. Give to schools, give to organizations, just don't give into the all-powerful whine.
CHICLAYO, PERU: WHERE ARE THE RUINS?
My young, British friend Ben Laing, whom I met in Vilcabamba (and, for any of you who know anything about British psychiatry in the last 30 years, is the son of Artie Laing), and I decided not to stay at the hostel in Chiclayo that the Irish gang was staying at, as I heard from my mother and some random traveler that it was actually better to stay in Lambayeque, just north of the city, where the Sipan treasures are. Before we left for Lambayeque, though, we deposited our bags at their hostel room and decided to get an overall idea of what Chiclayo had to offer. We had heard that one of the main attractions in Chiclayo was the Mercado Bruja (Witches' Market). So we walked up there and found that a row of shops held all the witches ingredients you could ever want, including many animal parts, dried plants and illegal potions (such as San Pedro, some sort of hallucinogenic cactus juice). I took a couple pictures of a spooky dancing monkey, and we were outta there.
After spending an hour being laughed at by a muscle-bound street performer and the crowd that had formed around him, we grabbed our stuff and caught a combi to Lambayeque. The room at our hostel was a bit cheaper than in Chiclayo, so we were a bit pleased with ourselves. We were starving, so we stopped to get some yummy ceviche (pronounced su-vee-chay), a Peruvian-Ecuadorian coastal dish made of raw fish cooked by the acidity of lemon juice. We headed over to the Sipan museum and wandered through the exhibit for an hour or so. I must say, if you see an exhibit like the treasures of Sipan once, while impressive, you don't really have to see it again. It was here that I found out that the ruins were not actually anywhere near the museum itself. What? We decided to take it easy that night and, as we hadn't really had any sleep from the night before because of our Ecuadorian exodus, I fell asleep around 7pm and didn't wake up until the next morning.
The next day, we tried to figure out what more there was to do in Chiclayo and Lambayeque. Failing to find a satisfactory answer (read: not really interested in more archaeological museums), we took the next combi back to Chiclayo, grabbed a taxi, and made it just in time to catch the 11:30am bus to Trujillo.
TRUJILLO, PERU: SLEEPY SURF TOWNS AND DUSTY ADOBE TEMPLES
Trujillo, Peru's second largest city, also lies along the coast, about 3 hours south of Chiclayo by bus. The Australian couple I met in Vilcabamba recommended that we stay outside of Trujillo proper in a seaside hamlet and surf town called Huanchaco. We jumped in a taxi and, on a long stretch of dirt in between Trujillo and our destination, we observed strange dirt mounds that didn't look quite natural. A few minutes later, we passed a sign that marked the entrance to the giant Moche adobe city, Chan Chan. For those of you who don't know much about Peruvian history, the Moche were a coastal civilization that existed almost 1000 years before the Incas.
Huanchaco was a disappointingly quiet, yet picturesque little town and, as our taxi passed the main beaches, we could see many a surfer partaking in the sizable (yet safer than Montanita, Ecuador) surf. As we were arriving at the tail end of April, the summer season had passed into memory, which would explain why the town was somewhat vacant. We checked into our hostel and relaxed after our mid-day trip. That evening, we decided to take it easy and go into Trujillo to see a movie, a truly horrible thriller by acclaimed director Ann Campion called 'In the Cut'.
The next day, we decided to see the sights that Trujillo had to offer. We took a bus to the Plaza de Armas and took in the colonial architecture and some breakfast. We then set off on another expedition recommended by the Australian couple I met in Vilcabamba, the Moche Temple of the Sun and Moon. We took a combi south of the city and were let off on a small dirt road next to a large ancient adobe wall. We walked down the road and suddenly were confronted with a large adobe temple, set against a steep rock structure that jutted out of the landscape.
We walked to the entrance building, arranged for a tour in English, and were accompanied by two young British travelers, Rebecca and Saffron. The Temple of the Sun is actually the culmination of six different generations of sacred temples built on top of each other. The Moche would build a rectangular temple of adobe bricks for their high priest and, once he died or the temple was considered to be at the end of its use, they would fill in the old temple's passageways with adobe bricks and build the next one on top of and outside of it. This happened six times and culminated in a rather huge structure. The sixth and outermost temple has been largely eaten away by the elements in the 1000+ years since it was constructed. As each construction protected the previous from the elements, archaeologists have uncovered some of the artwork from previous generations and the colors are still quite vibrant. Pretty impressive for a big mound of baked dirt!
Having befriended Saffron and Rebecca on our tour, we all headed back to Trujillo and we convinced them to come and check out Huanchaco before they left town that night. After spending a little time wading in the cold afternoon surf, we waged a heated discussion about whether they should stay in town another night or whether we should leave a night early. They won and, after a hasty packing session and retreat from Huanchaco, we descended upon the bus station to take an overnight ride to what would prove to be a great mountain adventure over the next couple of days . . . Huaraz.
Monday, May 17, 2004
May 17, 2004
Cusco, Peru
I've been back in Cusco for two weeks and readjusting to life back at home (as Cusco is currently the closest thing I've currently got to a home). I've started training to be an English teacher at the Instituto Cultural Peruano Norteamericano (ICPNA), which means I'm sitting in on classes and observing different teaching styles. Most teachers here are former students of ICPNA, so their English isn't 100% correct, but I'd say it's 90% there. The thing you realize when you're going to start teaching English is how little you know about your own language. When you're fluent, you don't think about all the rules that go into daily language skills. As I observed a class at ICPNA and the instructor was describing how to use a 'gerund', I got a sudden pang of fear, thinking 'what the hell have I gotten myself into, I don't know this stuff'. But I also look at this as a great opportunity to get to know my own language better. And maybe it will make me a better writer.
Things in Cusco haven't really changed that much over the couple months I've been traveling, but I would expect that I could say the same about the U.S. and New York. Although, it does seem that I know a lot of people at home who have just had a baby, are about to have one, or are about to get married (you know who you are). I guess that has more to do with my age, though.
I was a bit frustrated at my language level when I returned. I must admit that I didn't really use my Spanish skills that much while traveling. This may seem odd, but when you travel with other English-speakers and you have to speak Spanish to a local, you generally refer to the person who knows the language the best in the group. And that wasn't me. Also, when you use the common travel guides (Lonely Planet, Footprints, Let's Go) you always stay at hostels where you can meet other English speakers. So it's really easy to travel in South America and speak English most of the time. Well, in order to combat this laziness, I've come up with a daily regimen of independent study and practicing with my family and friends. I've also instituted a 'No Gringos' social policy, except with friends who I knew before I returned. So, I guess my new policy would be more accurately summed up with the help of a famous presidential decree: 'Read my lips: no new gringos'.
Well, while I don't have a lot of new news about life here in Cusco, I do have some stories from the last couple weeks of traveling to share with you:
CUENCA, ECUADOR: THE PRETTIEST TOWN IN SOUTH AMERICA (SO FAR)
After my overnight exodus from Quito, I woke up to find myself in the prettiest city I've seen so far in South America, Cuenca. It is a rich town, which is something that has baffled me, as there seems to be no obvious business or industry from which the city derives its wealth. I think that this is one of those cities that the rich of Ecuador have decided to make their home base, although it's in the Andes and relatively inconvenient to get to. But perhaps that's why it has retained it's stature, since it is protected environmentally and relatively small, compared to a city like Quito. That being said, it is just 3 hours from the country's largest city, Guayaquil.
As I made my way from the bus terminal to my hostel, I watched the city wake up and get to work. Cuenca's colonial architecture is intact and its parks are very pretty, lots of grass and trees. A beautiful (and clean) stream runs right past the center of town, with lots of scenic bridges passing over, and the Cuenquenos obviously take pride in it. The downtown area is on a plateau, so the elevated side of the stream is lined with tall Colonial mansions and the lower side is where the more modern Cuenca resides.
I had decided to make Cuenca my 'chill out' city, after a month and a half of intense traveling and hosting my friend, Bhavna. I rented a room for myself and settled in to a few days of lounging, reading a science fiction novel by Phillip K. Dick, and wandering the city. On the afternoon of the first day, I decided to find out where the local movie theater was and explore the modern area, across the stream. As I walked down one of the major streets, I noticed many local young people hanging out along the sides of the street in their cars and listening to music, just like many places in the States. I also noted that most of their cars were much nicer than your average car in Cusco, or the rest of Ecuador, for that matter.
I met a young woman from Wisconsin who was in town for a couple of months to finish her university degree by teaching in a local school, so we hung out and went on a couple of excursions. She showed me the main park, where the stream unites with another. The Cuenquenos were all out that Saturday afternoon, playing soccer and picnicking with their families. The next day we decided to take an excursion to Banos, a local town that houses a series of natural baths (a different town than the much bigger complex that I went to with Bhavna). I was rather disappointed by these baths compared to the other Banos, as this was really just a big, lukewarm swimming pool.
A TREATISE ON TRASH
There was another remarkable characteristic about Cuenca that made me quite happy: there was no trash in the streets and especially not in the rivers!! Quite a remarkable feat for a South American city!! In fact, unlike most places down here, there were lots of garbage cans around! Now you may be reading this and thinking 'what's the big deal', but in the U.S. we really take for granted the cleanliness of our daily surroundings. In most places I've been to in South America, trash is just everywhere. It's really quite disgusting.
There are lots of reasons for this. One of my theories of why this situation exists points out the need for education when introducing new technology. The indigenous peoples traditionally have always dealt with the natural world: when they eat fruit or food, they throw the remains on the ground and, over time, it eventually breaks down and is not a problem. Well, when you introduce things like plastic to them, they continue with their natural habits and throw it on the ground. The only problem is that, as we all know, plastic doesn't break down and naturally decay.
You'd think the answer would be to educate the people to use garbage cans, like we do. And there are signs up around places like Cusco reminding people to use them, but there aren't that many around! This is because, really, the city doesn't have enough money to pay garbage collectors to empty them on a regular basis. When the city tried to install garbage cans all over Cusco, people would steal them in order to use the metal to make other things. So, you have a situation where your average person sees trash all around them, doesn't have or use garbage cans, and just figures that if everyone else is doing it, why should they go out of their way? This is a recipe for pollution with no relief in sight.
CAMERA SAGA, CONT.
One thing I forgot to mention in my camera saga entry was the fate of my Russian-made SLR that I bought in Guayaquil. Well, when I arrived in Cuenca one of the main things that I wanted to do was unpack my bags and just settle into a place. I took everything out of my bags and put my camera in a drawer with some books. Well, on my way to my next destination, Vilcabamba, I suddenly had the realization that I hadn't seen that hunk of junk while I was packing. The image of the drawer popped into my mind and I knew that I had accidentally left where the books had been. As I don't know anyone in Cuenca that could bring it back to me and I didn't really want to jump off the bus and figure a way to get back, I decided to write it off as another victim of my bad camera karma on this trip. Oh well, it's just a camera that didn't work well and weighed a ton.
One last note on cameras, I mentioned that I have a new digital camera, but it seems that the connector I usually use to download my photos doesn't work with the 128MB MemoryStick that Bhavna so graciously gave to me. So, I won't be able to show you any photos from the final leg of my trip until I get a cord that connects from my camera to my computer. I went searching for one in Cusco, but it is incredibly difficult to find up-to-date technology there. They just have computing basics. My next visitor from the States will be my mother, towards the end of June, so I'll have her bring down the appropriate cord. This will hopefully put an end to my bad camera karma.
VILLCABAMBA, ECUADOR: RELAXATION ON A BUDGET
After my exodus from Cuenca, I headed south towards the Peruvian border to stop at a hostel in Vilcabamba that everyone in the backpacking circles of Ecuador had been talking about. The hostel, Madre Tierra (Mother Earth), is nestled in what is called the Valley of Longevity, where a handful of spa-hostels have popped up to take advantage of the beautiful and healthy surroundings. I had received an email a week before from two of the '5 Amigos', Kim and Lucy, who spent a couple days at the hostel and got the whole spa treatment for the bargain basement price of $40, so I knew that this place would be a cost-effective way of relaxing. Madre Tierra was a wonderful place with a series of pools that spilled over into each other, a jacuzzi, a spa, fooz ball, a ping-pong table and absolutely fantastic food (breakfast and dinner were included in the room rate of $12, so it was quite a deal).
On my first full day, I met an Aussie couple, Greg and Kelly, and we decided to go on a hike that would take us to two peaks overlooking the valley. It was a tiring, yet rewarding, adventure. Both destinations are marked by crosses at the top of the two peaks. Near the first cross, we ran into a donkey that was just hanging out on the mountainside and had to cautiously side step it, afraid that it would kick us in nervousness. After reaching the first cross, we had climb up a ravine where the mountain's rain water collects and rushes down. Luckily for us, it was a dry day, so we just had to carefully scale the crumbling rock and dirt terrain. At the top, we could see everything around us. A rainstorm was steadily moving in on the mountains across the valley and we could see it dump its contents in a misty haze. We decided that it would be a good idea to descend before we got caught in a tropical downpour. It was a good idea, because as we stepped foot into Madre Tierra the storm dumped a ton of rain on the valley.
The rest of my time in Vilcabamba was spent having ping-pong tournaments with my various Aussie, Kiwi (that's what you call New Zealanders), British and Irish hostelmates and getting a hour-long full-body massage in town (we found a place in town that offered $10 massages instead of partaking in Madre Tierra's $30 massage). Relaxation on a budget! A group of Irish travelers were heading to Peru after my second night, so I decided to accompany them back into Peru . . .
Cusco, Peru
I've been back in Cusco for two weeks and readjusting to life back at home (as Cusco is currently the closest thing I've currently got to a home). I've started training to be an English teacher at the Instituto Cultural Peruano Norteamericano (ICPNA), which means I'm sitting in on classes and observing different teaching styles. Most teachers here are former students of ICPNA, so their English isn't 100% correct, but I'd say it's 90% there. The thing you realize when you're going to start teaching English is how little you know about your own language. When you're fluent, you don't think about all the rules that go into daily language skills. As I observed a class at ICPNA and the instructor was describing how to use a 'gerund', I got a sudden pang of fear, thinking 'what the hell have I gotten myself into, I don't know this stuff'. But I also look at this as a great opportunity to get to know my own language better. And maybe it will make me a better writer.
Things in Cusco haven't really changed that much over the couple months I've been traveling, but I would expect that I could say the same about the U.S. and New York. Although, it does seem that I know a lot of people at home who have just had a baby, are about to have one, or are about to get married (you know who you are). I guess that has more to do with my age, though.
I was a bit frustrated at my language level when I returned. I must admit that I didn't really use my Spanish skills that much while traveling. This may seem odd, but when you travel with other English-speakers and you have to speak Spanish to a local, you generally refer to the person who knows the language the best in the group. And that wasn't me. Also, when you use the common travel guides (Lonely Planet, Footprints, Let's Go) you always stay at hostels where you can meet other English speakers. So it's really easy to travel in South America and speak English most of the time. Well, in order to combat this laziness, I've come up with a daily regimen of independent study and practicing with my family and friends. I've also instituted a 'No Gringos' social policy, except with friends who I knew before I returned. So, I guess my new policy would be more accurately summed up with the help of a famous presidential decree: 'Read my lips: no new gringos'.
Well, while I don't have a lot of new news about life here in Cusco, I do have some stories from the last couple weeks of traveling to share with you:
CUENCA, ECUADOR: THE PRETTIEST TOWN IN SOUTH AMERICA (SO FAR)
After my overnight exodus from Quito, I woke up to find myself in the prettiest city I've seen so far in South America, Cuenca. It is a rich town, which is something that has baffled me, as there seems to be no obvious business or industry from which the city derives its wealth. I think that this is one of those cities that the rich of Ecuador have decided to make their home base, although it's in the Andes and relatively inconvenient to get to. But perhaps that's why it has retained it's stature, since it is protected environmentally and relatively small, compared to a city like Quito. That being said, it is just 3 hours from the country's largest city, Guayaquil.
As I made my way from the bus terminal to my hostel, I watched the city wake up and get to work. Cuenca's colonial architecture is intact and its parks are very pretty, lots of grass and trees. A beautiful (and clean) stream runs right past the center of town, with lots of scenic bridges passing over, and the Cuenquenos obviously take pride in it. The downtown area is on a plateau, so the elevated side of the stream is lined with tall Colonial mansions and the lower side is where the more modern Cuenca resides.
I had decided to make Cuenca my 'chill out' city, after a month and a half of intense traveling and hosting my friend, Bhavna. I rented a room for myself and settled in to a few days of lounging, reading a science fiction novel by Phillip K. Dick, and wandering the city. On the afternoon of the first day, I decided to find out where the local movie theater was and explore the modern area, across the stream. As I walked down one of the major streets, I noticed many local young people hanging out along the sides of the street in their cars and listening to music, just like many places in the States. I also noted that most of their cars were much nicer than your average car in Cusco, or the rest of Ecuador, for that matter.
I met a young woman from Wisconsin who was in town for a couple of months to finish her university degree by teaching in a local school, so we hung out and went on a couple of excursions. She showed me the main park, where the stream unites with another. The Cuenquenos were all out that Saturday afternoon, playing soccer and picnicking with their families. The next day we decided to take an excursion to Banos, a local town that houses a series of natural baths (a different town than the much bigger complex that I went to with Bhavna). I was rather disappointed by these baths compared to the other Banos, as this was really just a big, lukewarm swimming pool.
A TREATISE ON TRASH
There was another remarkable characteristic about Cuenca that made me quite happy: there was no trash in the streets and especially not in the rivers!! Quite a remarkable feat for a South American city!! In fact, unlike most places down here, there were lots of garbage cans around! Now you may be reading this and thinking 'what's the big deal', but in the U.S. we really take for granted the cleanliness of our daily surroundings. In most places I've been to in South America, trash is just everywhere. It's really quite disgusting.
There are lots of reasons for this. One of my theories of why this situation exists points out the need for education when introducing new technology. The indigenous peoples traditionally have always dealt with the natural world: when they eat fruit or food, they throw the remains on the ground and, over time, it eventually breaks down and is not a problem. Well, when you introduce things like plastic to them, they continue with their natural habits and throw it on the ground. The only problem is that, as we all know, plastic doesn't break down and naturally decay.
You'd think the answer would be to educate the people to use garbage cans, like we do. And there are signs up around places like Cusco reminding people to use them, but there aren't that many around! This is because, really, the city doesn't have enough money to pay garbage collectors to empty them on a regular basis. When the city tried to install garbage cans all over Cusco, people would steal them in order to use the metal to make other things. So, you have a situation where your average person sees trash all around them, doesn't have or use garbage cans, and just figures that if everyone else is doing it, why should they go out of their way? This is a recipe for pollution with no relief in sight.
CAMERA SAGA, CONT.
One thing I forgot to mention in my camera saga entry was the fate of my Russian-made SLR that I bought in Guayaquil. Well, when I arrived in Cuenca one of the main things that I wanted to do was unpack my bags and just settle into a place. I took everything out of my bags and put my camera in a drawer with some books. Well, on my way to my next destination, Vilcabamba, I suddenly had the realization that I hadn't seen that hunk of junk while I was packing. The image of the drawer popped into my mind and I knew that I had accidentally left where the books had been. As I don't know anyone in Cuenca that could bring it back to me and I didn't really want to jump off the bus and figure a way to get back, I decided to write it off as another victim of my bad camera karma on this trip. Oh well, it's just a camera that didn't work well and weighed a ton.
One last note on cameras, I mentioned that I have a new digital camera, but it seems that the connector I usually use to download my photos doesn't work with the 128MB MemoryStick that Bhavna so graciously gave to me. So, I won't be able to show you any photos from the final leg of my trip until I get a cord that connects from my camera to my computer. I went searching for one in Cusco, but it is incredibly difficult to find up-to-date technology there. They just have computing basics. My next visitor from the States will be my mother, towards the end of June, so I'll have her bring down the appropriate cord. This will hopefully put an end to my bad camera karma.
VILLCABAMBA, ECUADOR: RELAXATION ON A BUDGET
After my exodus from Cuenca, I headed south towards the Peruvian border to stop at a hostel in Vilcabamba that everyone in the backpacking circles of Ecuador had been talking about. The hostel, Madre Tierra (Mother Earth), is nestled in what is called the Valley of Longevity, where a handful of spa-hostels have popped up to take advantage of the beautiful and healthy surroundings. I had received an email a week before from two of the '5 Amigos', Kim and Lucy, who spent a couple days at the hostel and got the whole spa treatment for the bargain basement price of $40, so I knew that this place would be a cost-effective way of relaxing. Madre Tierra was a wonderful place with a series of pools that spilled over into each other, a jacuzzi, a spa, fooz ball, a ping-pong table and absolutely fantastic food (breakfast and dinner were included in the room rate of $12, so it was quite a deal).
On my first full day, I met an Aussie couple, Greg and Kelly, and we decided to go on a hike that would take us to two peaks overlooking the valley. It was a tiring, yet rewarding, adventure. Both destinations are marked by crosses at the top of the two peaks. Near the first cross, we ran into a donkey that was just hanging out on the mountainside and had to cautiously side step it, afraid that it would kick us in nervousness. After reaching the first cross, we had climb up a ravine where the mountain's rain water collects and rushes down. Luckily for us, it was a dry day, so we just had to carefully scale the crumbling rock and dirt terrain. At the top, we could see everything around us. A rainstorm was steadily moving in on the mountains across the valley and we could see it dump its contents in a misty haze. We decided that it would be a good idea to descend before we got caught in a tropical downpour. It was a good idea, because as we stepped foot into Madre Tierra the storm dumped a ton of rain on the valley.
The rest of my time in Vilcabamba was spent having ping-pong tournaments with my various Aussie, Kiwi (that's what you call New Zealanders), British and Irish hostelmates and getting a hour-long full-body massage in town (we found a place in town that offered $10 massages instead of partaking in Madre Tierra's $30 massage). Relaxation on a budget! A group of Irish travelers were heading to Peru after my second night, so I decided to accompany them back into Peru . . .
