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 . . .
Friday, April 23, 2004
Huaraz, Peru
April 23, 2004
I'm really falling behind on my blogs, so I'm going to try to race through what I did in my last few weeks in Ecuador. Currently, I'm back in Peru and hanging out in a cool Andean town named Huaraz, from where you can do lots of trekking, mountain climbing, ice picking, ice cave dwelling and the like. I'll get fully updated in the next week or so. It looks as though I'm finally going to return to Cusco next week, after being gone for a total of 8 weeks. I'm tired of backpacking, for the moment, and I want to sleep in my own bed. As I no longer have an apartment or bed in NYC, my Cusco lodgings are the closest I have to a home.
QUITO/MINDO: FAREWELL AMIGOS, HELLO BHAVNA
The '5 Amigos' (that's what Lucy called Mike, Brooke, Kim, Lucy and I) set foot on the mainland from the Galapagos on March 31st. We bid each other adieu and then I had to race to a hotel to meet my friend Bhavna from London, with whom I would be spending the next week.
Bhavna and I settled into Quito and I showed her a bit of the beautiful colonial 'Old City' on the first day. We then decided to head off to the northwest of Quito, to a town called Mindo, so that she could see a bit of the Ecuadorian cloud forest. We arrived in Mindo a bit late in the day, around 7pm, which in a small town like Mindo means that the landscape and the streets are totally dark, except for a very occassional street lamp. We checked into a room that my book listed as 'basic' and boy was it!! This was the most basic room I've ever stayed in, consisting of 2x4s, plywood, a bed and a hanging light bulb. The next day we met up with a guide and a couple Europeans to take a hike through the cloudforest to a waterfall. I had to borrow waterproof boots from the guide, but as everyone in these countries are shorter than me, the boots were a little too small and that would prove to be painful. I had heard wonderful tales of swimming in the waterfall and such, but when we finally made it there, the morning torrential rain had swelled the river so much that you couldn't really jump in as the flow was now incredibly strong, not to mention, ICE COLD!!
BANOS: LAND OF VOLCANOS AND HOT SPRINGS
That afternoon, we decided to hightail it out of Mindo and returned to Quito just long enough to catch a bus south to Banos, well known for its hot springs and its geographical location, under an active volcano. In fact, this volcano had errupted in 1999, forcing the whole city to be evacuated. As we approached the valley where the town was situated, we could see the tall volcano venting hot steam from its cone into the clear night sky. Quite a scene!!
We arrived in Banos on Saturday night, April 3rd, to find the place packed to the rim with young Ecuadorians and families, in town to enjoy the one day that they get off from work, Sunday. So tired, we decided to check into our hotel and take it easy for the night. The next morning, we were awakened by the sound of the young ones racing around town on ATVs (small All Terrain Vehicles) and the general commotion of the weekend. It was a beautiful sunny day and we wandered around town, but decided to put off the main activities that are available in Banos - a tour of the Avenue of Waterfalls (a 27 km ride on bikes or ATVs), a climbing trek to see the volcano, or a trip to the hot water springs - until the next couple of days. Unfortunately for us, the next two days were incredibly overcast, not the best weather for a bicycle ride or a hiking trek. That monday we decided we had to do something while we were there, so we took a short hike just out of town to the El Salado baths. We would jump from the hot bath to the cold river bath and back again, along the way befriending some of the locals, until every last touch of stress had left our bodies. What a feeling!!
The next day we decided we had to take a bigger hike, no matter what the weather was like, so we took a taxi up the mountain, hoping we could see the volcano. As our luck would have it, the clouds covered the whole thing. But as we started the trek down to Banos, we were hailed by a local dairy farmer (if you could call him that, he had 3 cows) who wanted to talk to us for some reason. He invited us back to his house, a cement two-room structure with a thatch roof, and made us some tea from a plant in his garden. We sat and talked with him about all the people he had met from around the world and the effects of dollarization on the campesinos, the country people. As we left, he politely asked for a bit of money for the tea, which I obliged him with, and we were off.
As we walked back to town, we ran into a couple of newlyweds making the same trek, he's from Florida and she's Ecuadorian. They told us how they had met at the Vatican on his last day of a European vacation. He returned to the states and she to Ecuador and they emailed each other constantly. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He decided he didn't want to be 64 wondering what ever happened to that girl, so he decided to come visit her in Guayaquil for a month and in that month they decided to get married. He and his family returned a few months later and they just got married. He has to stay down here for a while to get her papers ready to return, with her, to Florida. They're both a bit nervous, but very much in love. A nice, romantic story.
Bhavna and I had lunch with the newlyweds and then jumped back on a bus for Quito, as Bhavna had to leave to return to London in a couple of days. Our last few days together we just relaxed in Quito: went and saw 'Big Fish' (which I highly recommend) and went shopping. Bhavna was very excited about shopping, as she noticed that the Ecuadorian women have the same body proportions as she does. As a matter of fact, many people mistook her for being Ecuadorian because of her skin coloring, even though her parents are from India.
THE CAMERA SAGA
I have had really bad luck with cameras on this trip. First, as you may know, my digital camera was stolen right before I went to the Galapagos. So, while we were in Guayaquil, I raced out to look for a new one. All the digital ones were rather expensive, so I decided to go old school and return to film and a 35mm camera. I found a used camera shop and thought it would be cool to get a totally manual SLR. I found a cheap one that was made in the USSR and decided that I was ready to go. The only problem was that this camera couldn't handle 400 ASA speed film very well, which was what I had purchased. The light meter really sucked and the ASA knob broke after a couple of days. Tired of trying to figure out how to use it, I decided, while I was in the Galapagos, that I would just rely on my companions for photos.
Well, when Bhavna and I returned to Quito, we were walking in a Centro Commercial (a market where vendors rent space and sell everything from electronics to clothing to pots and pans) and we saw a similar model of digital camera that I had, a Sony!! We asked how much it cost and were told $190. All other cameras of that type retailed at $310. Granted, this didn't have rechargeable batteries or a recharger and was probably a stolen camera, but it could use AA batteries and was cheap. With a little bit of coaching on how to bargain from Bhavna (who comes from a line of successful bargainers), I offered $150. He countered with $170, so I said that $160 was right inbetween and whallah! I have a new digital camera. Bhavna had a similar model camera, so she gave me her 128MB MemoryStick as a birthday gift and now I'm back in business (although I can't download my pictures until I get back to Cusco). So watch this space for new photos!!
QUITO: A FOND FAREWELL
With a few pairs of new pants, Bhavna took an early morning flight back to London and I spent the day trying to get caught up on email, before taking a night bus to Cuenca. Around midday, I went to a bookstore called 'Confederate Books' (the best English language bookstore I've found in South Amercia) to find something fun to read. The store owner, an American named Bill, was hanging out with another American friend. When the conversation turned to films, I introduced myself. It turns out that the other guy, Tom, is originally from Louisiana and moved down here and created the bookstore. Bill had just bought the store from him, as Tom was returning to the States with his Ecuadorian wife and children, after 10 years in Quito. After a steady stream of beers, I got to telling them how my father wants to open some sort of business in Cusco and that I have to help him figure out what that business will be. They both recommended opening a good English language used book store, since Cusco is crawling with tourists and has no English language bookstore. It's a good idea that I'll have to bounce off my parents. After a long alcohol-soaked day of talking politics and bookstores, I bid them farewell and made it to my bus just in time.
More to come . . .
April 23, 2004
I'm really falling behind on my blogs, so I'm going to try to race through what I did in my last few weeks in Ecuador. Currently, I'm back in Peru and hanging out in a cool Andean town named Huaraz, from where you can do lots of trekking, mountain climbing, ice picking, ice cave dwelling and the like. I'll get fully updated in the next week or so. It looks as though I'm finally going to return to Cusco next week, after being gone for a total of 8 weeks. I'm tired of backpacking, for the moment, and I want to sleep in my own bed. As I no longer have an apartment or bed in NYC, my Cusco lodgings are the closest I have to a home.
QUITO/MINDO: FAREWELL AMIGOS, HELLO BHAVNA
The '5 Amigos' (that's what Lucy called Mike, Brooke, Kim, Lucy and I) set foot on the mainland from the Galapagos on March 31st. We bid each other adieu and then I had to race to a hotel to meet my friend Bhavna from London, with whom I would be spending the next week.
Bhavna and I settled into Quito and I showed her a bit of the beautiful colonial 'Old City' on the first day. We then decided to head off to the northwest of Quito, to a town called Mindo, so that she could see a bit of the Ecuadorian cloud forest. We arrived in Mindo a bit late in the day, around 7pm, which in a small town like Mindo means that the landscape and the streets are totally dark, except for a very occassional street lamp. We checked into a room that my book listed as 'basic' and boy was it!! This was the most basic room I've ever stayed in, consisting of 2x4s, plywood, a bed and a hanging light bulb. The next day we met up with a guide and a couple Europeans to take a hike through the cloudforest to a waterfall. I had to borrow waterproof boots from the guide, but as everyone in these countries are shorter than me, the boots were a little too small and that would prove to be painful. I had heard wonderful tales of swimming in the waterfall and such, but when we finally made it there, the morning torrential rain had swelled the river so much that you couldn't really jump in as the flow was now incredibly strong, not to mention, ICE COLD!!
BANOS: LAND OF VOLCANOS AND HOT SPRINGS
That afternoon, we decided to hightail it out of Mindo and returned to Quito just long enough to catch a bus south to Banos, well known for its hot springs and its geographical location, under an active volcano. In fact, this volcano had errupted in 1999, forcing the whole city to be evacuated. As we approached the valley where the town was situated, we could see the tall volcano venting hot steam from its cone into the clear night sky. Quite a scene!!
We arrived in Banos on Saturday night, April 3rd, to find the place packed to the rim with young Ecuadorians and families, in town to enjoy the one day that they get off from work, Sunday. So tired, we decided to check into our hotel and take it easy for the night. The next morning, we were awakened by the sound of the young ones racing around town on ATVs (small All Terrain Vehicles) and the general commotion of the weekend. It was a beautiful sunny day and we wandered around town, but decided to put off the main activities that are available in Banos - a tour of the Avenue of Waterfalls (a 27 km ride on bikes or ATVs), a climbing trek to see the volcano, or a trip to the hot water springs - until the next couple of days. Unfortunately for us, the next two days were incredibly overcast, not the best weather for a bicycle ride or a hiking trek. That monday we decided we had to do something while we were there, so we took a short hike just out of town to the El Salado baths. We would jump from the hot bath to the cold river bath and back again, along the way befriending some of the locals, until every last touch of stress had left our bodies. What a feeling!!
The next day we decided we had to take a bigger hike, no matter what the weather was like, so we took a taxi up the mountain, hoping we could see the volcano. As our luck would have it, the clouds covered the whole thing. But as we started the trek down to Banos, we were hailed by a local dairy farmer (if you could call him that, he had 3 cows) who wanted to talk to us for some reason. He invited us back to his house, a cement two-room structure with a thatch roof, and made us some tea from a plant in his garden. We sat and talked with him about all the people he had met from around the world and the effects of dollarization on the campesinos, the country people. As we left, he politely asked for a bit of money for the tea, which I obliged him with, and we were off.
As we walked back to town, we ran into a couple of newlyweds making the same trek, he's from Florida and she's Ecuadorian. They told us how they had met at the Vatican on his last day of a European vacation. He returned to the states and she to Ecuador and they emailed each other constantly. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He decided he didn't want to be 64 wondering what ever happened to that girl, so he decided to come visit her in Guayaquil for a month and in that month they decided to get married. He and his family returned a few months later and they just got married. He has to stay down here for a while to get her papers ready to return, with her, to Florida. They're both a bit nervous, but very much in love. A nice, romantic story.
Bhavna and I had lunch with the newlyweds and then jumped back on a bus for Quito, as Bhavna had to leave to return to London in a couple of days. Our last few days together we just relaxed in Quito: went and saw 'Big Fish' (which I highly recommend) and went shopping. Bhavna was very excited about shopping, as she noticed that the Ecuadorian women have the same body proportions as she does. As a matter of fact, many people mistook her for being Ecuadorian because of her skin coloring, even though her parents are from India.
THE CAMERA SAGA
I have had really bad luck with cameras on this trip. First, as you may know, my digital camera was stolen right before I went to the Galapagos. So, while we were in Guayaquil, I raced out to look for a new one. All the digital ones were rather expensive, so I decided to go old school and return to film and a 35mm camera. I found a used camera shop and thought it would be cool to get a totally manual SLR. I found a cheap one that was made in the USSR and decided that I was ready to go. The only problem was that this camera couldn't handle 400 ASA speed film very well, which was what I had purchased. The light meter really sucked and the ASA knob broke after a couple of days. Tired of trying to figure out how to use it, I decided, while I was in the Galapagos, that I would just rely on my companions for photos.
Well, when Bhavna and I returned to Quito, we were walking in a Centro Commercial (a market where vendors rent space and sell everything from electronics to clothing to pots and pans) and we saw a similar model of digital camera that I had, a Sony!! We asked how much it cost and were told $190. All other cameras of that type retailed at $310. Granted, this didn't have rechargeable batteries or a recharger and was probably a stolen camera, but it could use AA batteries and was cheap. With a little bit of coaching on how to bargain from Bhavna (who comes from a line of successful bargainers), I offered $150. He countered with $170, so I said that $160 was right inbetween and whallah! I have a new digital camera. Bhavna had a similar model camera, so she gave me her 128MB MemoryStick as a birthday gift and now I'm back in business (although I can't download my pictures until I get back to Cusco). So watch this space for new photos!!
QUITO: A FOND FAREWELL
With a few pairs of new pants, Bhavna took an early morning flight back to London and I spent the day trying to get caught up on email, before taking a night bus to Cuenca. Around midday, I went to a bookstore called 'Confederate Books' (the best English language bookstore I've found in South Amercia) to find something fun to read. The store owner, an American named Bill, was hanging out with another American friend. When the conversation turned to films, I introduced myself. It turns out that the other guy, Tom, is originally from Louisiana and moved down here and created the bookstore. Bill had just bought the store from him, as Tom was returning to the States with his Ecuadorian wife and children, after 10 years in Quito. After a steady stream of beers, I got to telling them how my father wants to open some sort of business in Cusco and that I have to help him figure out what that business will be. They both recommended opening a good English language used book store, since Cusco is crawling with tourists and has no English language bookstore. It's a good idea that I'll have to bounce off my parents. After a long alcohol-soaked day of talking politics and bookstores, I bid them farewell and made it to my bus just in time.
More to come . . .
Wednesday, April 14, 2004
Cuenca, Ecuador
April 14, 2004
Well, I guess it's time that I move on from my Galapagos adventure and get everyone caught up with what I've been doing the last couple of weeks. But before I do, let me just leave you with a few final anecdotes from my last days there.
My (last) Galapagos Blog, Part 3
SANTA CRUZ ISLAND: A FEW MORE DAYS OF PARADISE
We had been so enthralled by the scenery that we had seen so far in the Galapagos that, by half way through our cruise, we decided to extend our stay for a few days and return to the main town on Santa Cruz Island, Puerto Ayora, afterwards.
Puerto Ayora is a comfortable little tourist town, with a nice easy feel to it. The day after our arrival, Kim and I set out on our first excursion: to find a beach near town that had been recommended to us by our British shipmates (Tony and Rachel). It's name? Tortuga Bay. It's a 5km trek in all, first to a national park outpost just off to the side of the town and then several km on a well-constructed brick path, passing through cactus and bush-filled terrain. The climate was so hot, the path so straight, and the terrain so similar that it felt as though we were taking on a never-ending endeavor. Finally, though, we could hear the distant rumble of the waves grow stronger and the trail deposited us on the beach. Put simply, it was the most beautiful beach I had ever seen (although, I must admit, I am not too well acquainted with this world's beaches). It consisted of a long stretch of very fine, white sand, which gradually escaped to the sea, creating a beautiful spectrum of light turquoise water to the navy blue of the Pacific Ocean. However, there was no shade and we had been warned that the current was too strong to swim in. We walked the length of the beach and found a beautiful area where black lava rocks had cut off the sea and created a natural little swimming pool between the rocks, the beach and some mangroves. We settled in for a few hours of leisurely wading before taking the 'walk through the 4th circle of hell' back to town.
LONESOME GEORGE: THE LAST OF HIS KIND
The next couple of days consisted of lounging around town and visiting the Charles Darwin Research Center. We had visited the Darwin Center before on our cruise, but we had not been able to see the Center's most famous inhabitant, Lonesome George. George is lonesome because he was the last tourtoise of his species found alive on his island in the northern Galapagos, Isla Pinta, about 40 years ago. Now, tortoises live a long time, about 200 years, so George has quite a bit of life left in him.
I had mentioned before that the only animal to have the fear of humans in the Galapagos are the Great Tortoises. This is because over a course of 200 years, mainly the 18th and 19th centuries, humans massacred toroises by the thousands, using them for food on long sea voyages. See, tortoises live so long because their metabolisms are slow and they live life at a similar pace, which makes them easy to catch. So, when sailors visited the Galapagos, they would easily fill up their hull with Giant Tortoises, who could survive in a ship's hull for 100 days. Thus they would have plenty of tortoise flesh for food. Over the last three centuries, some estimate that we massacred three to four hundred thousand of this noble species.
Back to George, he's the last of his species. The scientist at the Darwin Center have been searching for over 30 years for a possible mate for George, a female of a tortoise species linked close enough genetically to him so that he could mate and continue his kind. Unfortunately, George has had no interest in any of these fair tortoise maidens. So, we have another 100 years of George's life to find a solution to his problem. That's 100 years of (possible) solitude. A sign near George's pen states that the absolute, last-ditch effort by the Darwin Center will be cloning, but it's costly and prone to failure. Let's hope that George takes a liking to one of his female companions in the next 100 years.
GREAT TORTOISES: CUTE LITTLE CRITTERS
One last thing about the Darwin Center. These scientist are working to undue the harm we've done to the ecosystems of the Galapagos over the past few centuries. The Great Tortoises are exceptionally vulnerable to the species we have introduced to the islands: rat, pig, goat, cow, horse, dog, cat. In their own way, each of these animals make it very difficult for the tortoises to reproduce. They trample or eat their eggs, compete with them for resources, or destroy the terrain they depend on. So, the scientists are in the process of eradicating these species from all the islands in the Galapagos, which they hope to do in the next 10 years.
In the meantime, the tortoises need help reproducing. So, scientists go into the wild, find tortoise eggs and bring them back to the center so that they can hatch safely, away from predators and adverse environments. It's quite a sight to see all these little guys in their pens, crawling over each other and struggling to get up on little structures. It's hard to believe that an organism that can grow so big starts off so small. A full grown tortoise can have a shell that's a 3-5 feet in diameter. When they hatch, however, they start off with a shell that's 2-3 inches. Quite a growth spurt (if you consider 50 years an adequate time to grow up). After 2 years, the tortoises are big enough to go into a special pen that approximates their natural terrain. After another year, they are released into the wild. So far, they have released 2000 back into the wild. Let's hope they're successful.
Well that's it for my Galapagos expedition. In my next episode we'll return to the mainland and more cityesque adventures. Thanks for reading!!
Tim
April 14, 2004
Well, I guess it's time that I move on from my Galapagos adventure and get everyone caught up with what I've been doing the last couple of weeks. But before I do, let me just leave you with a few final anecdotes from my last days there.
My (last) Galapagos Blog, Part 3
SANTA CRUZ ISLAND: A FEW MORE DAYS OF PARADISE
We had been so enthralled by the scenery that we had seen so far in the Galapagos that, by half way through our cruise, we decided to extend our stay for a few days and return to the main town on Santa Cruz Island, Puerto Ayora, afterwards.
Puerto Ayora is a comfortable little tourist town, with a nice easy feel to it. The day after our arrival, Kim and I set out on our first excursion: to find a beach near town that had been recommended to us by our British shipmates (Tony and Rachel). It's name? Tortuga Bay. It's a 5km trek in all, first to a national park outpost just off to the side of the town and then several km on a well-constructed brick path, passing through cactus and bush-filled terrain. The climate was so hot, the path so straight, and the terrain so similar that it felt as though we were taking on a never-ending endeavor. Finally, though, we could hear the distant rumble of the waves grow stronger and the trail deposited us on the beach. Put simply, it was the most beautiful beach I had ever seen (although, I must admit, I am not too well acquainted with this world's beaches). It consisted of a long stretch of very fine, white sand, which gradually escaped to the sea, creating a beautiful spectrum of light turquoise water to the navy blue of the Pacific Ocean. However, there was no shade and we had been warned that the current was too strong to swim in. We walked the length of the beach and found a beautiful area where black lava rocks had cut off the sea and created a natural little swimming pool between the rocks, the beach and some mangroves. We settled in for a few hours of leisurely wading before taking the 'walk through the 4th circle of hell' back to town.
LONESOME GEORGE: THE LAST OF HIS KIND
The next couple of days consisted of lounging around town and visiting the Charles Darwin Research Center. We had visited the Darwin Center before on our cruise, but we had not been able to see the Center's most famous inhabitant, Lonesome George. George is lonesome because he was the last tourtoise of his species found alive on his island in the northern Galapagos, Isla Pinta, about 40 years ago. Now, tortoises live a long time, about 200 years, so George has quite a bit of life left in him.
I had mentioned before that the only animal to have the fear of humans in the Galapagos are the Great Tortoises. This is because over a course of 200 years, mainly the 18th and 19th centuries, humans massacred toroises by the thousands, using them for food on long sea voyages. See, tortoises live so long because their metabolisms are slow and they live life at a similar pace, which makes them easy to catch. So, when sailors visited the Galapagos, they would easily fill up their hull with Giant Tortoises, who could survive in a ship's hull for 100 days. Thus they would have plenty of tortoise flesh for food. Over the last three centuries, some estimate that we massacred three to four hundred thousand of this noble species.
Back to George, he's the last of his species. The scientist at the Darwin Center have been searching for over 30 years for a possible mate for George, a female of a tortoise species linked close enough genetically to him so that he could mate and continue his kind. Unfortunately, George has had no interest in any of these fair tortoise maidens. So, we have another 100 years of George's life to find a solution to his problem. That's 100 years of (possible) solitude. A sign near George's pen states that the absolute, last-ditch effort by the Darwin Center will be cloning, but it's costly and prone to failure. Let's hope that George takes a liking to one of his female companions in the next 100 years.
GREAT TORTOISES: CUTE LITTLE CRITTERS
One last thing about the Darwin Center. These scientist are working to undue the harm we've done to the ecosystems of the Galapagos over the past few centuries. The Great Tortoises are exceptionally vulnerable to the species we have introduced to the islands: rat, pig, goat, cow, horse, dog, cat. In their own way, each of these animals make it very difficult for the tortoises to reproduce. They trample or eat their eggs, compete with them for resources, or destroy the terrain they depend on. So, the scientists are in the process of eradicating these species from all the islands in the Galapagos, which they hope to do in the next 10 years.
In the meantime, the tortoises need help reproducing. So, scientists go into the wild, find tortoise eggs and bring them back to the center so that they can hatch safely, away from predators and adverse environments. It's quite a sight to see all these little guys in their pens, crawling over each other and struggling to get up on little structures. It's hard to believe that an organism that can grow so big starts off so small. A full grown tortoise can have a shell that's a 3-5 feet in diameter. When they hatch, however, they start off with a shell that's 2-3 inches. Quite a growth spurt (if you consider 50 years an adequate time to grow up). After 2 years, the tortoises are big enough to go into a special pen that approximates their natural terrain. After another year, they are released into the wild. So far, they have released 2000 back into the wild. Let's hope they're successful.
Well that's it for my Galapagos expedition. In my next episode we'll return to the mainland and more cityesque adventures. Thanks for reading!!
Tim
Friday, April 09, 2004
Quito, Ecuador
April 9, 2004
Well, I'm on my own with just southern Ecuador and northern Peru to keep me company for the next few weeks. My friend Bhavna was visiting from London for the last week, but she left to home this morning. I've checked out of my hotel and have ther rest of the day to catch up on my blog, do my taxes online, and maybe catch a movie before my bus leaves tonight at 9:30pm for the city of Cuenca in the southern Andes of Ecuador. The streets are barren as today begins the 4-day holiday of Semana Santa (Easter). I'm looking worward to a few days of relaxing, reading and writing in Cuenca. So, before I leave Quito, here's . . .
My Galapagos Blog, part 2
ANIMALS, ANIMALS, EVERYWHERE!!
Well, as most know, the biggest attraction to a Galapagos holiday (which I highly recommend, by the way) are the animals. It's quite an incredible and humbling thing to get to know how an ecosystem works, up close and personal. It reminds you that we are just animals ourselves. It's the type of experience that really makes you feel in touch with your own humanity and your place among other living things. There really aren't many places (actually none that I can think of) besides the Galapagos where you can just walk around, on all the different islands that you visit, and watch animals just do their thing. Just incredible.
SEA LIONS: THOSE CURIOUS LITTLE STINK MONKEYS OF THE SEA
On almost every island that we visited, sea lions would swim out to welcome us. Well, not all sea lions. Adult sea lions seemed to have no interest at all in our presence. That is, except the male adult sea lions, who would bark just to let us know that we were near their harem. It seems that most of a sea lion's life consists of laying down on the beach (or on the volcanic rocks), sleeping, and occassionally going out to sea to eat a steady diet of fish. And oh, what would become of those fish! There's nothing quite like the delightful musk that eminates from our friend, the sea lion. It's the incredible odor of fish poo. Not quite Chanel number 5, but memorable none the less.
These creatures, so slow and lumbering on land, have such agility in the water. One of our favorite experiences, which happened on several occassions, would be to snorkel near the sea lions. While adult sea lions are indifferent, baby and especially juvenille sea lions are intensely curious. If we swam by they would many times com out and swim around us. We would play with them by diving down into the water, twisting and turning our bodies to mimic their movements. At times, it would seem as though they were going to swim straight into us, but then they would suddenly twist their bodies and be swimming 180 degrees from the direction they were swimming a second before.
Another fun experience took place when we weren't in the water. Our last day we were heading out on our dinghy for a dry landing on Lobos Island, just off the coast of San Cristobal. We skimmed across the light turqoise water, starting at one end of the small island, past the black volcanic rocks on the shore. Suddenly, out from these rocks came a few juvenille sea lions, attracted by our motor and its rotor. They would swim right behind the quickly turning motor, watching it spin, but not getting close enough to get hurt. Three sea lions bacame five, as if they were calling out to each other in kid voices, 'hey, guys, come check this out!' Five became nine, which became twelve . . . then sixteen. At last count we had 25 juvenille sea lions trailing our dinghy. They would squirm around while swimming, at times diving down to the sandy bottom of the turquoise lagoon and resurfacing. Sometimes, they seemed to be swimming on top of each other. We stopped and disembarked on the island, watching them follow our dinghy back to the boat.
BLUE-FOOTED BOOBIES: PERSONALITY WITH FEATHERS
I have to say, that my favorite animal that we encountered on the cruise was the one that made it's entrance the second we stepped aboard the Encantada. We stood on the deck, happy to have finally made it to our cruise ship, and suddenly heard a big clatter in the water. We didn't see anything. A second later a bird was floating in the same place as the clatter. We looked into the distance and saw other birds circling different parts of the water. One would climb in the air a bit and then suddenly point his beak downwards, diving quickly into the water. After about 7 seconds, they would appear back on the surface, apparently swallowing a fish that they had caught from below. This was our introduction to the blue-footed boobie.
Apparently, the boobie (there are also red-footed and masked boobies in the Galapagos) got its name from English sailors who would pass by these islands and found that these birds had no fear of humans. Thinking that they were dumb, they started calling them boobies. However, most of the animals on these islands ever had any reason to fear humans (except the Great Tortoise, but we'll get to that later), as we did not hunt them.
Blue-footed boobies can be found on most of the islands of the Galapagos. Their appearance is like looking at something from another planet. As you can imagine, their feet are covered with blue skin, which is actually meant to attract possible mates. During mating, male boobies build a nest of twigs, hoping to find a suitable female. Whenever a female passes overhead, they spread their wings and point their long beak to the sky with a whistle, like they're saying 'hey, doll, come over here and we'll dance'. And they do dance. When a female does linger, both lift up their little blue feet and do this little waddle dance every few minutes . The males whistle and stretch out their wings and the females sometimes snort, all while doing the waddle dance. The hope is that the female will be so impressed by the nest and the dance, that she'll stay and mate. If only it was that easy for humans! Actually, it's not that easy for boobies. These little critters do this same ritual for hours and hours and days and days. Occassionally, you'll find a sad little boobie who is exhausted and all alone. Maybe next year he'll get lucky.
LOOK MA!! I'M FLYING!! (ACTUALLY, I'M JUST SNORKELING)
I love snorkeling. I hadn't done it since I was 11 or so, and that was in the controlled environment of a Sea World snorkel pool. Going into this part of my trip I knew that I would have to confront, not really a fear, but rather a preference that I had developed not swim in water that had living things swimming in it. I just didn't like the idea of a fish butting up against me.
For our first snorkel, we were taken by dinghy off the rocky coast of North Seymore Island. We all sat there in the dinghy, looking to see who would go first. People started to jump out and I knew it was time to confront this . . . um . . . preference. I splashed down into the water and started to look at the world below the surface. It was just amazing. On that first snorkel, we played with sea lions, had a (thankfully) little shark swim straight at me, only 5 feet away, and started getting to know our ever present hosts, the tropical fish. Over the next week we would encounter King Angelfish, Rainbow Wrasse, and the Yellow-tail Surgeonfish. We would jump out of our dinghy, exhausted after snorkelling for an hour, just to trail a sea turtle, as it tried to avoid us. Being there, in the water, skimming the surface, is one of the most peaceful experiences I've had in my life. The closest I'll ever come to flying.
April 9, 2004
Well, I'm on my own with just southern Ecuador and northern Peru to keep me company for the next few weeks. My friend Bhavna was visiting from London for the last week, but she left to home this morning. I've checked out of my hotel and have ther rest of the day to catch up on my blog, do my taxes online, and maybe catch a movie before my bus leaves tonight at 9:30pm for the city of Cuenca in the southern Andes of Ecuador. The streets are barren as today begins the 4-day holiday of Semana Santa (Easter). I'm looking worward to a few days of relaxing, reading and writing in Cuenca. So, before I leave Quito, here's . . .
My Galapagos Blog, part 2
ANIMALS, ANIMALS, EVERYWHERE!!
Well, as most know, the biggest attraction to a Galapagos holiday (which I highly recommend, by the way) are the animals. It's quite an incredible and humbling thing to get to know how an ecosystem works, up close and personal. It reminds you that we are just animals ourselves. It's the type of experience that really makes you feel in touch with your own humanity and your place among other living things. There really aren't many places (actually none that I can think of) besides the Galapagos where you can just walk around, on all the different islands that you visit, and watch animals just do their thing. Just incredible.
SEA LIONS: THOSE CURIOUS LITTLE STINK MONKEYS OF THE SEA
On almost every island that we visited, sea lions would swim out to welcome us. Well, not all sea lions. Adult sea lions seemed to have no interest at all in our presence. That is, except the male adult sea lions, who would bark just to let us know that we were near their harem. It seems that most of a sea lion's life consists of laying down on the beach (or on the volcanic rocks), sleeping, and occassionally going out to sea to eat a steady diet of fish. And oh, what would become of those fish! There's nothing quite like the delightful musk that eminates from our friend, the sea lion. It's the incredible odor of fish poo. Not quite Chanel number 5, but memorable none the less.
These creatures, so slow and lumbering on land, have such agility in the water. One of our favorite experiences, which happened on several occassions, would be to snorkel near the sea lions. While adult sea lions are indifferent, baby and especially juvenille sea lions are intensely curious. If we swam by they would many times com out and swim around us. We would play with them by diving down into the water, twisting and turning our bodies to mimic their movements. At times, it would seem as though they were going to swim straight into us, but then they would suddenly twist their bodies and be swimming 180 degrees from the direction they were swimming a second before.
Another fun experience took place when we weren't in the water. Our last day we were heading out on our dinghy for a dry landing on Lobos Island, just off the coast of San Cristobal. We skimmed across the light turqoise water, starting at one end of the small island, past the black volcanic rocks on the shore. Suddenly, out from these rocks came a few juvenille sea lions, attracted by our motor and its rotor. They would swim right behind the quickly turning motor, watching it spin, but not getting close enough to get hurt. Three sea lions bacame five, as if they were calling out to each other in kid voices, 'hey, guys, come check this out!' Five became nine, which became twelve . . . then sixteen. At last count we had 25 juvenille sea lions trailing our dinghy. They would squirm around while swimming, at times diving down to the sandy bottom of the turquoise lagoon and resurfacing. Sometimes, they seemed to be swimming on top of each other. We stopped and disembarked on the island, watching them follow our dinghy back to the boat.
BLUE-FOOTED BOOBIES: PERSONALITY WITH FEATHERS
I have to say, that my favorite animal that we encountered on the cruise was the one that made it's entrance the second we stepped aboard the Encantada. We stood on the deck, happy to have finally made it to our cruise ship, and suddenly heard a big clatter in the water. We didn't see anything. A second later a bird was floating in the same place as the clatter. We looked into the distance and saw other birds circling different parts of the water. One would climb in the air a bit and then suddenly point his beak downwards, diving quickly into the water. After about 7 seconds, they would appear back on the surface, apparently swallowing a fish that they had caught from below. This was our introduction to the blue-footed boobie.
Apparently, the boobie (there are also red-footed and masked boobies in the Galapagos) got its name from English sailors who would pass by these islands and found that these birds had no fear of humans. Thinking that they were dumb, they started calling them boobies. However, most of the animals on these islands ever had any reason to fear humans (except the Great Tortoise, but we'll get to that later), as we did not hunt them.
Blue-footed boobies can be found on most of the islands of the Galapagos. Their appearance is like looking at something from another planet. As you can imagine, their feet are covered with blue skin, which is actually meant to attract possible mates. During mating, male boobies build a nest of twigs, hoping to find a suitable female. Whenever a female passes overhead, they spread their wings and point their long beak to the sky with a whistle, like they're saying 'hey, doll, come over here and we'll dance'. And they do dance. When a female does linger, both lift up their little blue feet and do this little waddle dance every few minutes . The males whistle and stretch out their wings and the females sometimes snort, all while doing the waddle dance. The hope is that the female will be so impressed by the nest and the dance, that she'll stay and mate. If only it was that easy for humans! Actually, it's not that easy for boobies. These little critters do this same ritual for hours and hours and days and days. Occassionally, you'll find a sad little boobie who is exhausted and all alone. Maybe next year he'll get lucky.
LOOK MA!! I'M FLYING!! (ACTUALLY, I'M JUST SNORKELING)
I love snorkeling. I hadn't done it since I was 11 or so, and that was in the controlled environment of a Sea World snorkel pool. Going into this part of my trip I knew that I would have to confront, not really a fear, but rather a preference that I had developed not swim in water that had living things swimming in it. I just didn't like the idea of a fish butting up against me.
For our first snorkel, we were taken by dinghy off the rocky coast of North Seymore Island. We all sat there in the dinghy, looking to see who would go first. People started to jump out and I knew it was time to confront this . . . um . . . preference. I splashed down into the water and started to look at the world below the surface. It was just amazing. On that first snorkel, we played with sea lions, had a (thankfully) little shark swim straight at me, only 5 feet away, and started getting to know our ever present hosts, the tropical fish. Over the next week we would encounter King Angelfish, Rainbow Wrasse, and the Yellow-tail Surgeonfish. We would jump out of our dinghy, exhausted after snorkelling for an hour, just to trail a sea turtle, as it tried to avoid us. Being there, in the water, skimming the surface, is one of the most peaceful experiences I've had in my life. The closest I'll ever come to flying.
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Banos, Ecuador
April 6, 2004
I know this blog is a bit tardy considering that I finished my Galapagos cruise on the 28th of March, but when you have an experience that is so intense and wonderful, it is difficult to decide specifically what to write about. This was, simply put, the best trip I have ever taken.
The rumors about the Galapagos are all true: the animals on this island paradise are not at all afraid of humans. They just go about their lazing around, hunting, and mating rituals . . . all while you walk by a few feet away and observe.
The islands themselves vary quite a bit in their terrain, ranging from desert to tropical, depending on their age and which plants and animals have been able to take root. They all started as volcanic eruptions which spilled out as lava or, in some cases, lifted the ocean floor above the surface of the water. They are relatively young, the oldest being 2 million years old and the youngest being about 500,000 years old. Any animal life upon them had to travel from other islands or, more likely, the South American mainland on giant natural reed rafts that used to occur on a regular basis.
All the plants and animals that made it to the islands had to adapt quickly for survival. This is why Charles Darwin is the most famous visitor to the islands. He traveled to the Galapagos in 1825 and found much inspiration for his theory of evolution. He mentions them quite a bit in 'The Origin of the Species'.
ENCANTADA: THE DAILY ROUTINE
Life was peaceful abord our little home away from home on the sea, the Encantada - a 12-passenger, red-hulled yacht with valiant, yet unused, sailing masts. The day would begin with the captain's sea whistle, which would sound and wake us up at the appointed time established the night before by our guide, Juan. I, being a morning person, would usually rise before the high pitched wail sounded the others to wake up. I would already be up on deck, watching the sun eat the clouds away and give us another day of perfectly blue sky.
Around 7am, we'd all assemble in the galley for breakfast and watch each other try to wake up. Our group was quite an international affair: my 4 American friends from spanish school in Cusco (Kim, Lucy, Mike & Brooke), a British couple (Tony & Rachel), a Belgian couple (Tom & Els), a part-time Mexican resident and yoga instructor (BJ, an American from Maine), and my German roommate, Jan.
THE TROUBLE WITH AIR CONDITIONING
Unfortunately, Jan was only on the ship for half the cruise and was replaced by a French couple, Beatriz and Luik. This was unfortunate not because of the French, who were a perfectly cordial and interesting couple. No, it meant that I was condemned to share BJ's cabin which had an air-conditioning vent aimed right at the top bunk, where I slept. This meant that while BJ was getting a good night's rest below, I was struggling to stay warm . . . trying to cover the vent and finally resorting to putting on sweats and my fleece sweater. By the end of the trip I had caught a head cold, but at least I didn't get sick during the cruise.
A LIFE OF EXCURSIONS
After completing breakfast we would embark on our first excursion of the day. We had two basic types: a snorkel or an island visit. As we traveled to 10 islands in total, there was always new scenery and a new set of animals to discover. If we had an island visit we would have to prepare for either a dry landing (wear shoes) or a wet landing from our dinghy (carry your shoes and jump out of the boat into wet sand). Our dinghy was a worn, yet sturdy, inflatable with a gas motor on the back, which could just fit 12 passengers.
After completing one or two excursions in the morning we would usually sit down for lunch at around 12pm, while the boat set sail for another island. This made eating difficult for some in our group, as the boat was constantly pitching back and forth. Surprisingly I never had any trouble with sea sickness.
The afternoon would usually consist of another 1 or 2 snorkels or land adventures. Generally, we averaged 1 snorkel a day, which was quite wonderful. When we had to return to the boat from a land excursion, our guide Juan would pick up his radio and repeat what would become our war cry, 'Encantada, Encantada, Encantada'.
We would eat dinner at 7pm each night. Again, struggling with the movements of the ship would prove difficult for some. Afterwards, many would just go to sleep rather than dealing with the conscious to-and-frowing of our moving ship (we mostly travelled long-distances at night). Many had to take drastic measures to avoid being ejected from their top bunks at night. My friend Kim resorted to sleeping on the floor of the cabin she shared with Lucy.
THE NIGHT SKY, THE SEA BREEZE
After dinner, I usually liked to stay up a bit and soak in the night sky, which revealed itself with brightest stars I've seen. Without any city lights or clouds to obstruct the view, the stars were simply amazing. It was easy to make out the Milky Way spill down the night sky to the horizon. I liked to lay down and look straight up to watch our masts pitch back and forth while the stars slowly made their way across the night sky. I would also sit on one of the benches near the bow and observe the moon's light reflect off the waves and make silhouettes of distant islands, growing and shrinking. It was also enjoyable to stand at the bow and feel the wet sea air on my face, blowing my hair, as I waited for the dolphins to jump out of the water next to our bow, which would never happen, but was something I liked to imagine.
More to come . . . animals, animals, everywhere.
April 6, 2004
I know this blog is a bit tardy considering that I finished my Galapagos cruise on the 28th of March, but when you have an experience that is so intense and wonderful, it is difficult to decide specifically what to write about. This was, simply put, the best trip I have ever taken.
The rumors about the Galapagos are all true: the animals on this island paradise are not at all afraid of humans. They just go about their lazing around, hunting, and mating rituals . . . all while you walk by a few feet away and observe.
The islands themselves vary quite a bit in their terrain, ranging from desert to tropical, depending on their age and which plants and animals have been able to take root. They all started as volcanic eruptions which spilled out as lava or, in some cases, lifted the ocean floor above the surface of the water. They are relatively young, the oldest being 2 million years old and the youngest being about 500,000 years old. Any animal life upon them had to travel from other islands or, more likely, the South American mainland on giant natural reed rafts that used to occur on a regular basis.
All the plants and animals that made it to the islands had to adapt quickly for survival. This is why Charles Darwin is the most famous visitor to the islands. He traveled to the Galapagos in 1825 and found much inspiration for his theory of evolution. He mentions them quite a bit in 'The Origin of the Species'.
ENCANTADA: THE DAILY ROUTINE
Life was peaceful abord our little home away from home on the sea, the Encantada - a 12-passenger, red-hulled yacht with valiant, yet unused, sailing masts. The day would begin with the captain's sea whistle, which would sound and wake us up at the appointed time established the night before by our guide, Juan. I, being a morning person, would usually rise before the high pitched wail sounded the others to wake up. I would already be up on deck, watching the sun eat the clouds away and give us another day of perfectly blue sky.
Around 7am, we'd all assemble in the galley for breakfast and watch each other try to wake up. Our group was quite an international affair: my 4 American friends from spanish school in Cusco (Kim, Lucy, Mike & Brooke), a British couple (Tony & Rachel), a Belgian couple (Tom & Els), a part-time Mexican resident and yoga instructor (BJ, an American from Maine), and my German roommate, Jan.
THE TROUBLE WITH AIR CONDITIONING
Unfortunately, Jan was only on the ship for half the cruise and was replaced by a French couple, Beatriz and Luik. This was unfortunate not because of the French, who were a perfectly cordial and interesting couple. No, it meant that I was condemned to share BJ's cabin which had an air-conditioning vent aimed right at the top bunk, where I slept. This meant that while BJ was getting a good night's rest below, I was struggling to stay warm . . . trying to cover the vent and finally resorting to putting on sweats and my fleece sweater. By the end of the trip I had caught a head cold, but at least I didn't get sick during the cruise.
A LIFE OF EXCURSIONS
After completing breakfast we would embark on our first excursion of the day. We had two basic types: a snorkel or an island visit. As we traveled to 10 islands in total, there was always new scenery and a new set of animals to discover. If we had an island visit we would have to prepare for either a dry landing (wear shoes) or a wet landing from our dinghy (carry your shoes and jump out of the boat into wet sand). Our dinghy was a worn, yet sturdy, inflatable with a gas motor on the back, which could just fit 12 passengers.
After completing one or two excursions in the morning we would usually sit down for lunch at around 12pm, while the boat set sail for another island. This made eating difficult for some in our group, as the boat was constantly pitching back and forth. Surprisingly I never had any trouble with sea sickness.
The afternoon would usually consist of another 1 or 2 snorkels or land adventures. Generally, we averaged 1 snorkel a day, which was quite wonderful. When we had to return to the boat from a land excursion, our guide Juan would pick up his radio and repeat what would become our war cry, 'Encantada, Encantada, Encantada'.
We would eat dinner at 7pm each night. Again, struggling with the movements of the ship would prove difficult for some. Afterwards, many would just go to sleep rather than dealing with the conscious to-and-frowing of our moving ship (we mostly travelled long-distances at night). Many had to take drastic measures to avoid being ejected from their top bunks at night. My friend Kim resorted to sleeping on the floor of the cabin she shared with Lucy.
THE NIGHT SKY, THE SEA BREEZE
After dinner, I usually liked to stay up a bit and soak in the night sky, which revealed itself with brightest stars I've seen. Without any city lights or clouds to obstruct the view, the stars were simply amazing. It was easy to make out the Milky Way spill down the night sky to the horizon. I liked to lay down and look straight up to watch our masts pitch back and forth while the stars slowly made their way across the night sky. I would also sit on one of the benches near the bow and observe the moon's light reflect off the waves and make silhouettes of distant islands, growing and shrinking. It was also enjoyable to stand at the bow and feel the wet sea air on my face, blowing my hair, as I waited for the dolphins to jump out of the water next to our bow, which would never happen, but was something I liked to imagine.
More to come . . . animals, animals, everywhere.
Saturday, March 20, 2004
Guayaquil, Ecuador
March 20, 2004
Well, we leave for the Galapagos tomorrow morning for our 8-day cruise. I'm looking forward to playing with penguins, tanning with tortoises, and any other aliterative combinations I can think of.
The past week has been a time of sun, sand, and swimming. Mike, Brooke, Lucy, Kim and I departed Quito March 11 on an overnight bus to Puerto Lopez, one of the northernmost towns on the Ecuadorian 'Ruta del Sol' (Sun Route). After a few days of exploring this fishing village, we set off last Monday to Montanita, the surf capital of Ecuador. Finally, yesterday we took an afternoon bus into Guayaquil, Ecuador's largest city and a hot, humid, urban environment (think New York in August every day of the year).
I'm trying out a few styles of writing. In this episode I'm doing little stories on a specific subject and starting with a title. Give me some feedback on what style you prefer, this or journal-esque recounting of recent events. Any feedback will help me develop my writing skills and style.
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BAD LUCK IN PUERTO LOPEZ, PART 1: THE TANNINNG INCIDENT
In Quito, the day before we left for the coast, Lucy, Kim and I decided to head off to the local Target-esque store, MegaMaxi, to stock up on things we needed for the coast. I bought a couple pairs of shorts, a toothbrush, some shampoo and some 16 spf Ecuadorian brand sunblock. Our first day in Puerto Lopez we headed out to the beach to get to work on our tans. We figured that since we were going to be spending so much time in the sun on our cruise to the Galapagos, it would be smart to get our skin producing melanin to deal with it. I've never been much of a sun freak, but it seemed like a good idea. I slapped some sunblock on: 30spf on my arms and face and 16 on my back and legs. We spent a few hour laying out in the beach, the sun so intense because we're near the Equator and it's almost the fall equinox (when the sun is pointed right at the equator). Well, that afternoon when we returned to our hotel, I found myself the owner of a bright red, stinging back.
The next day, Kim was looking at the lotion that I bought in Quito and noticed that it contained things like peanut oil and such. I grabbed the bottle and noticed something I hadn't really thought about before: the lotion was a 'bronceadora', not a 'bloqueadora'. To translate, that's a bronzer, not a sunblock!! Needless to say, one should always translate the language when buying something as important as sunblock.
BAD LUCK IN PUERTO LOPEZ, PART 2: GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
The next day was my worst day so far on this whole South American Adventure. We had decided to take an excursion north of the town to a national park on the coast called Parque Machalilla, which has one of the best beaches in all of Ecuator, Los Frailes. We packed up our gear and headed to the town market to buy some food for the excursion. We met a guy in town who offered to drive us to the beach for $3. We jumped in the back of his truck and started down the highway towards the park. I'm always looking for interesting pictures, so I decided to take a pic of Mike in the truck as the scenery whizzed by. I suddenly felt my hair blowing in the wind as I watched my prized SF Giants hat fly off down the road. Some locals quickly dashed to pick it up as we continued our rapid advance towards the park. Oh well, it's just a hat. But it was a harbinger of something to come.
After the beach, we took the bus back to town and returned to our hotel for some hammock time. I took a quick shower, grabbed my bag and headed out to our hotel's pool for a few relaxing hours. It wasn't until I returned to the room that I realized that my digital camera was missing. We thoroughly searched the room, but to no avail. My camera was gone. It's possible that I left it on the beach or in the hammock when I got up. But I know that I packed it in my bag when we left the beach and I don't remember taking it out of my bag at the hammock. When we returned from the beach I remember unloading my bag on the bed. The girls then went out to the pool. I think that I left it on my bed and that someone passing by saw it through the window and grabbed it while I was taking a shower (the door was unlocked) or when I was out at the pool (door definitely locked). Either way, I no longer have my digital camera.
So, I'm here in Guayaquil and looking to buy a new camera. I haven't decided whether I'll try to buy a digital camera or just get a point-and-shoot film camera. I can't promise that I'll have any more slide shows to share with you guys, but I'll try. I'm not so much sad about the camera (although I would love to have it back), but more so I'm disappointed that all the photos from the last 2-1/2 weeks are gone. Oh well, it's just a camera.
MONTANITA: BEWARE THE UNDERTOW
After leaving Puerto Lopez last Monday, we took a short jaunt down the coast to the surf town of Montanita. I was looking forward to trying my hand at surfing, although Kim had run into someone at the airport who said she was there one day when 4 people drowned by getting swept up by the undertow. Still, I had no intention of risking my life in the surf and figured I would have to be extra careful of getting myself into a situation that wasn't comfortable.
We went out to the beach that afternoon. The scene is idyllic, a long gradual incline into the surf with an unrelenting barrage of wave crashing down about 150ft from the surf's edge. As we walked into the surf, we could definitely sense the power of the waves. The ebb of the water as it returned to the ocean wasn't so strong that it would knock you off your feet, but it was definitely stronger that anything I had felt before.
The next day, we were at lunch when suddenly we saw everyone on the street start running towards the shore. Mike went out to see what happened, but couldn't make heads or tails of the situation. That afternoon, we found out that some guy had drowned in the undertow. In the US, search parties would be organized to find the guy, but here everyone seemed to be resigned that he was simply gone.
Thursday afternoon we spent a few hours tanning and swimming under the Ecuatorial sun since it was a rare overcast day, protecting us from the sun's strength. I left the beach after tanning (it was the first day I didn't have to wear a t-shirt after 'the tanning incident') and body surfing for a few hours. I'm glad I left when I did. It turns out that this North Carolina girl who was hanging out with us, Hillary, decided to go for a stroll on the beach. About 100ft from where we had been hanging out she saw something in the water, looking kind of like a chest. Other people saw the same thing and a small crowd started to form. It turned out that the body of the dead swimmer had finally surfaced and floated ashore. Everyone in our group had a somewhat shellshocked afternoon as we all pondered our own mortality.
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Well, that's it for me for now. I'll write again after I return from the Galapagos. I won't be able to check email until next sunday, but feel free to send me messages, should you wish to do so.
Cao,
Tim
March 20, 2004
Well, we leave for the Galapagos tomorrow morning for our 8-day cruise. I'm looking forward to playing with penguins, tanning with tortoises, and any other aliterative combinations I can think of.
The past week has been a time of sun, sand, and swimming. Mike, Brooke, Lucy, Kim and I departed Quito March 11 on an overnight bus to Puerto Lopez, one of the northernmost towns on the Ecuadorian 'Ruta del Sol' (Sun Route). After a few days of exploring this fishing village, we set off last Monday to Montanita, the surf capital of Ecuador. Finally, yesterday we took an afternoon bus into Guayaquil, Ecuador's largest city and a hot, humid, urban environment (think New York in August every day of the year).
I'm trying out a few styles of writing. In this episode I'm doing little stories on a specific subject and starting with a title. Give me some feedback on what style you prefer, this or journal-esque recounting of recent events. Any feedback will help me develop my writing skills and style.
----------------
BAD LUCK IN PUERTO LOPEZ, PART 1: THE TANNINNG INCIDENT
In Quito, the day before we left for the coast, Lucy, Kim and I decided to head off to the local Target-esque store, MegaMaxi, to stock up on things we needed for the coast. I bought a couple pairs of shorts, a toothbrush, some shampoo and some 16 spf Ecuadorian brand sunblock. Our first day in Puerto Lopez we headed out to the beach to get to work on our tans. We figured that since we were going to be spending so much time in the sun on our cruise to the Galapagos, it would be smart to get our skin producing melanin to deal with it. I've never been much of a sun freak, but it seemed like a good idea. I slapped some sunblock on: 30spf on my arms and face and 16 on my back and legs. We spent a few hour laying out in the beach, the sun so intense because we're near the Equator and it's almost the fall equinox (when the sun is pointed right at the equator). Well, that afternoon when we returned to our hotel, I found myself the owner of a bright red, stinging back.
The next day, Kim was looking at the lotion that I bought in Quito and noticed that it contained things like peanut oil and such. I grabbed the bottle and noticed something I hadn't really thought about before: the lotion was a 'bronceadora', not a 'bloqueadora'. To translate, that's a bronzer, not a sunblock!! Needless to say, one should always translate the language when buying something as important as sunblock.
BAD LUCK IN PUERTO LOPEZ, PART 2: GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
The next day was my worst day so far on this whole South American Adventure. We had decided to take an excursion north of the town to a national park on the coast called Parque Machalilla, which has one of the best beaches in all of Ecuator, Los Frailes. We packed up our gear and headed to the town market to buy some food for the excursion. We met a guy in town who offered to drive us to the beach for $3. We jumped in the back of his truck and started down the highway towards the park. I'm always looking for interesting pictures, so I decided to take a pic of Mike in the truck as the scenery whizzed by. I suddenly felt my hair blowing in the wind as I watched my prized SF Giants hat fly off down the road. Some locals quickly dashed to pick it up as we continued our rapid advance towards the park. Oh well, it's just a hat. But it was a harbinger of something to come.
After the beach, we took the bus back to town and returned to our hotel for some hammock time. I took a quick shower, grabbed my bag and headed out to our hotel's pool for a few relaxing hours. It wasn't until I returned to the room that I realized that my digital camera was missing. We thoroughly searched the room, but to no avail. My camera was gone. It's possible that I left it on the beach or in the hammock when I got up. But I know that I packed it in my bag when we left the beach and I don't remember taking it out of my bag at the hammock. When we returned from the beach I remember unloading my bag on the bed. The girls then went out to the pool. I think that I left it on my bed and that someone passing by saw it through the window and grabbed it while I was taking a shower (the door was unlocked) or when I was out at the pool (door definitely locked). Either way, I no longer have my digital camera.
So, I'm here in Guayaquil and looking to buy a new camera. I haven't decided whether I'll try to buy a digital camera or just get a point-and-shoot film camera. I can't promise that I'll have any more slide shows to share with you guys, but I'll try. I'm not so much sad about the camera (although I would love to have it back), but more so I'm disappointed that all the photos from the last 2-1/2 weeks are gone. Oh well, it's just a camera.
MONTANITA: BEWARE THE UNDERTOW
After leaving Puerto Lopez last Monday, we took a short jaunt down the coast to the surf town of Montanita. I was looking forward to trying my hand at surfing, although Kim had run into someone at the airport who said she was there one day when 4 people drowned by getting swept up by the undertow. Still, I had no intention of risking my life in the surf and figured I would have to be extra careful of getting myself into a situation that wasn't comfortable.
We went out to the beach that afternoon. The scene is idyllic, a long gradual incline into the surf with an unrelenting barrage of wave crashing down about 150ft from the surf's edge. As we walked into the surf, we could definitely sense the power of the waves. The ebb of the water as it returned to the ocean wasn't so strong that it would knock you off your feet, but it was definitely stronger that anything I had felt before.
The next day, we were at lunch when suddenly we saw everyone on the street start running towards the shore. Mike went out to see what happened, but couldn't make heads or tails of the situation. That afternoon, we found out that some guy had drowned in the undertow. In the US, search parties would be organized to find the guy, but here everyone seemed to be resigned that he was simply gone.
Thursday afternoon we spent a few hours tanning and swimming under the Ecuatorial sun since it was a rare overcast day, protecting us from the sun's strength. I left the beach after tanning (it was the first day I didn't have to wear a t-shirt after 'the tanning incident') and body surfing for a few hours. I'm glad I left when I did. It turns out that this North Carolina girl who was hanging out with us, Hillary, decided to go for a stroll on the beach. About 100ft from where we had been hanging out she saw something in the water, looking kind of like a chest. Other people saw the same thing and a small crowd started to form. It turned out that the body of the dead swimmer had finally surfaced and floated ashore. Everyone in our group had a somewhat shellshocked afternoon as we all pondered our own mortality.
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Well, that's it for me for now. I'll write again after I return from the Galapagos. I won't be able to check email until next sunday, but feel free to send me messages, should you wish to do so.
Cao,
Tim
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
I made to Quito, Ecuador last Wednesday and found myself in a city with many of the ammenities of most modern cities. The Ecuadorians seem to have really benefitted from dollarization (they converted to using the American Dollar after a financial crisis a few years back). Your average Ecuadorian seems to be better off than your average Peruvian. That being said, I haven't spent any time in the big cities of Peru, just the Andean ones. But Ecuador is a much smaller country, so I think that it is easier for them to keep up the roads and stay connected to each other.
The 'smallness' of Ecuador is what makes it so appealing to the traveller. You can point your finger in any direction and find a new type of terrain and adventure to go with it. They have jungle, cloud forest, highland Andean cities, marshes and a long stretch of beaches. I'm looking forward to exploring as many different types of terrain as I can before I leave.
On Wednesday, I met a few of my friends at a hostel here called The Secret Garden in the San Blas area of Quito. Quito is an oddly designed city since, as it is situated in a long valley and stretches for miles and miles north to south, but is only a few of miles wide. This makes getting around the city a bit more difficult as there are two main centers, the New City in the North and the Old City in the South. The New City is the center of many tourist accomodations, restaurants, and language schools, but has a very typical, touristy urban feel. The Old City, on the other hand, mostly consists of beautiful Colonial architecture, the houses of Ecuadorian government, and many churches. San Blas is nestled between these two very distinct worlds.
My first full day here I wandered the Old City with my friends Brooke and Mike (also from the Bay Area) and we just marveled at the feel of a colonial city. Later in the evening, I partook in one of my favorite activities when I'm at home in the States, we went to see a movie, 21 Grams. I had not seen a movie in a theater in 4 months and, I have to admit, it was one of the things I was looking forward to by being in a big city.
We decided to get out of Quito this past weekend and head east to see the cloud forest, an interesting type of terrain - a mix between the jungle and the highlands. There is an immense amount of vegitation, but as it is at a higher altitude, the temperature is bit colder. The good thing is that there are not as many bugs (you don't have to worry about mosquitoes) and the clouds do seem to just hover above and inbetween the mountains. It's a beautiful sight.
We made our way near a town called Baeza to a lodge built by an expat Brit called The Magic Roundabout. It was a relaxing few days, consisting of sitting in hammocks, playing with two frisky dogs (Winston, a golden lab, and Guiness, a Alaskan Husky), witnessing the birth of 3 kittens (unfortunately one was mauled to death by Guiness), and trudging through forest streams to see cascading waterfalls on the vast property behind the lodge.
We returned to Quito on Sunday to meet up with our friend Kim, who had flown up from Cusco. The last couple days have been focused mainly on solidifying our travel plans to the Galapagos by visiting a multitude of travel agents. We finally decided today upon a trip that will have us leaving on March 21 abord the yacht Encantada and returning March 28. It was tough to decide what criteria to base our decision on, but we were ultimately attracted to the itinerary (we get to see almost all the eastern islands) and, to be frank, the fact that the ship had sails (although they don't really use them).
We have a week and a half to fill up before we head off on our voyage and I think we've decided to move west and get ourselves some beach action to prepare for the Galapagos.
I'll try to send you another update before we head off to the Galapagos.
The 'smallness' of Ecuador is what makes it so appealing to the traveller. You can point your finger in any direction and find a new type of terrain and adventure to go with it. They have jungle, cloud forest, highland Andean cities, marshes and a long stretch of beaches. I'm looking forward to exploring as many different types of terrain as I can before I leave.
On Wednesday, I met a few of my friends at a hostel here called The Secret Garden in the San Blas area of Quito. Quito is an oddly designed city since, as it is situated in a long valley and stretches for miles and miles north to south, but is only a few of miles wide. This makes getting around the city a bit more difficult as there are two main centers, the New City in the North and the Old City in the South. The New City is the center of many tourist accomodations, restaurants, and language schools, but has a very typical, touristy urban feel. The Old City, on the other hand, mostly consists of beautiful Colonial architecture, the houses of Ecuadorian government, and many churches. San Blas is nestled between these two very distinct worlds.
My first full day here I wandered the Old City with my friends Brooke and Mike (also from the Bay Area) and we just marveled at the feel of a colonial city. Later in the evening, I partook in one of my favorite activities when I'm at home in the States, we went to see a movie, 21 Grams. I had not seen a movie in a theater in 4 months and, I have to admit, it was one of the things I was looking forward to by being in a big city.
We decided to get out of Quito this past weekend and head east to see the cloud forest, an interesting type of terrain - a mix between the jungle and the highlands. There is an immense amount of vegitation, but as it is at a higher altitude, the temperature is bit colder. The good thing is that there are not as many bugs (you don't have to worry about mosquitoes) and the clouds do seem to just hover above and inbetween the mountains. It's a beautiful sight.
We made our way near a town called Baeza to a lodge built by an expat Brit called The Magic Roundabout. It was a relaxing few days, consisting of sitting in hammocks, playing with two frisky dogs (Winston, a golden lab, and Guiness, a Alaskan Husky), witnessing the birth of 3 kittens (unfortunately one was mauled to death by Guiness), and trudging through forest streams to see cascading waterfalls on the vast property behind the lodge.
We returned to Quito on Sunday to meet up with our friend Kim, who had flown up from Cusco. The last couple days have been focused mainly on solidifying our travel plans to the Galapagos by visiting a multitude of travel agents. We finally decided today upon a trip that will have us leaving on March 21 abord the yacht Encantada and returning March 28. It was tough to decide what criteria to base our decision on, but we were ultimately attracted to the itinerary (we get to see almost all the eastern islands) and, to be frank, the fact that the ship had sails (although they don't really use them).
We have a week and a half to fill up before we head off on our voyage and I think we've decided to move west and get ourselves some beach action to prepare for the Galapagos.
I'll try to send you another update before we head off to the Galapagos.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
I realize that everybody has been receiving duplicate blogs whenever I send them out (the new one plus the next recent one). I don't know why this occurs, but I can't figure out how to prevent it. I think it's a problem with Yahoo. Sorry, just delete the old one.
Well, I take off for Ecuador tomorrow morning at 7:30am. After a few hours stopover in Lima, I should get to Quito by 2pm. I'm meeting some friends from school when I get there and will figure out whether the Galapagos is a viable adventure. I've been getting many different stories from travelers regarding costs and if it is too much, I'll have to put it off for now. While I'm up in Ecuador, I probably won't be able to include many photos with my blogs, but I'll keep you up-to-date of my adventures.
Well, before I head off I'll tell you about . . .
A Francoise Kind of Adventure
PHOTOS
My friend Francoise came to visit me a few weeks ago, taking a break from her hectic job in New York's Financial District, working for Merrill Lynch. She arrived on Saturday, February 8, only being able to stay until the following Sunday, the 14th.
Our first two days were spent hanging out in Cusco, attending a BBQ with my uncle Ricardo. Francoise, who is self-professed non-dancer, was coerced into cutting a rug and I have to say that she underestimates her rhythmic talents.
Sunday, we walked the Cusco circuit and then bought our tickets for that night to head off to Copacabana, Bolivia on the south end of Lake Titicaca, just across the border with Peru. My tourist visa was about to run out, so the easiest way to get it renewed is to leave the country and then return.
We left Cusco late at night, around 11pm, and after spending a couple hours freezing to death at the Puno bus terminal that morning, where we caught our connecting bus, we arrived in Copacabana at around 10am. I had heard some good things about a hotel there called La Cupla, so we wandered up the hill and got a room.
The town's name sounds like it was inspired by the more famous beach area in Rio de Janeiro, but as we found out when we arrived, Rio's Copacabana is actually named after this little lake-side hamlet. It seems that Copacabana has a large, rather magnificent moor-inspired church that attracts pilgrims from all over Bolivia and Peru.
After checking into our hotel, we went down to the water's edge to find a restaurant that my book recommended. This would be the first of a series of meals featuring the area's star culinary attraction . . . trucha. For those of you who don't speak Spanish, trucha is trout. Specifically, trout from the lake and boy does it make a difference when you order the local delicacy. Over the next few days we would have trucha prepared in many different styles and it was all so yummy.
The next morning, we hopped on a local boat to take us to the Isla del Sol. The boat was jam-packed with other tourists and the next two-and-a-half hours was one of the most uncomfortable travel experiences of my life. The boat was packed with cheap metal and red vinyl chairs and they seemed to just keep loading as many people as they could fit on board. If that wasn't bad enough, we hit an intense rainstorm which caused a bunch of leaks, leading to my entire left side being drenched, as I was right next to the window.
The Isla del Sol is an impressive island, the main attraction being a couple of towns and long walk over the spine of the island, a tall ridge of peaks from which you can see for miles around the lake. Legend has it that this is where the original Incas were born. We hiked the peaks for a few hours and, after eating a lunch of . . . . yup, you guessed it, trucha, we took the afternoon boat back to Copacabana. The return trip was much more enjoyable.
We were a little worried about our trip back to Puno the next day because a two-day transportation strike had been declared in Bolivia. As I was checking out of our hotel the next morning, the attendant offered to find a taxi for us. It sounded like a good offer, but as he called his contacts, he was turned down one-by-one. Finally, he found someone to take us and we headed for the border. We had originally resigned ourselves to walking to the border, but was happy to break the strike (actually, we both felt a little guilty). Luckily, Copacabana is only 8 km from the Peruvian border and, as there was no strike in Peru, if we could make it there, we'd have no problem getting back to Puno.
Our taxi could only drive us as far as a road block, about 5 km down the road. When we arrived there, I couldn't tell if the strikers were pissed off at us. Our driver seemed a little cautious, but after a few minutes it became apparent that he was going to hand us over to another cab, on the other side of the roadblock, who would take us the rest of the way. We jumped in the cab and were whisked away to the border, where we passed through without any problems.
From the border, we decided to walk a few km to the main town, where we caught a minibus back to Puno. I promised Francoise that we would not travel on any buses with chickens running around and, after a quick break so that she could use the facilities of 'the worst bathroom in the world', we were on our way. There were no chickens, but it wasn't the most enjoyable bus ride I've taken.
Returning to Cusco that night at 3am, we decided to rest for the day before we headed off on a one-day Machu Picchu excursion. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get tickets for Friday, as the train was sold out. As this is low season, the trains are usually not full. But this year is different. My theory is that since the dollar is so weak compared to the Euro and terrorism fears keep people from doing much traveling in Europe, South America is currently a popular destination for Americans. In Cusco I come in contact with a lot of Europeans traveling on their own, but Americans seem to like to travel only in group excursions. Thus I only encounter them in places that their groups would allow them. This would explain why whenever I go to Machu Picchu, the place seems to be crawling with them. It's odd.
Saturday marked our Machu Picchu day trip. It can be quite a haul: catching a train at 6am, getting into Aguas Calientes by 10am, catching a bus up to the ruins, seeing the ruins, catching the return train at 4pm, and arriving back in Cusco at around 8pm. We had been joking for the last few days that the Peru cultural committee should use a cool new slogan: Do the 'Chu! (as in maCHU picCHU). I think we annoyed everyone on the bus ride up to the ruins by rhyming anything we could think of with 'chu'. It's a pretty rhyme-able word. Try it out. I will go with YOU to the CHU, so don't be BLUE. Etc, etc, ad nauseam.
Unfortunately, our day was marred by nearly constant rain at the ruins. The famous Machu Picchu view was covered most of the time by clouds and mist, peaking out for only a few minutes at a time. We wandered the ruins, and I think Francoise was impressed (it's hard not to be).
Well, generally, that was our trip. We went out dancing after we returned from the 'Chu, but as it was Dia de Amistad (Day of Friendship, Valentine's day for us), the clubs were crowded with 15-year-olds. Nothing makes you feel old like hanging out with 15-year-olds.
Anyway, I'll send you updates from Ecuador!
Well, I take off for Ecuador tomorrow morning at 7:30am. After a few hours stopover in Lima, I should get to Quito by 2pm. I'm meeting some friends from school when I get there and will figure out whether the Galapagos is a viable adventure. I've been getting many different stories from travelers regarding costs and if it is too much, I'll have to put it off for now. While I'm up in Ecuador, I probably won't be able to include many photos with my blogs, but I'll keep you up-to-date of my adventures.
Well, before I head off I'll tell you about . . .
A Francoise Kind of Adventure
PHOTOS
My friend Francoise came to visit me a few weeks ago, taking a break from her hectic job in New York's Financial District, working for Merrill Lynch. She arrived on Saturday, February 8, only being able to stay until the following Sunday, the 14th.
Our first two days were spent hanging out in Cusco, attending a BBQ with my uncle Ricardo. Francoise, who is self-professed non-dancer, was coerced into cutting a rug and I have to say that she underestimates her rhythmic talents.
Sunday, we walked the Cusco circuit and then bought our tickets for that night to head off to Copacabana, Bolivia on the south end of Lake Titicaca, just across the border with Peru. My tourist visa was about to run out, so the easiest way to get it renewed is to leave the country and then return.
We left Cusco late at night, around 11pm, and after spending a couple hours freezing to death at the Puno bus terminal that morning, where we caught our connecting bus, we arrived in Copacabana at around 10am. I had heard some good things about a hotel there called La Cupla, so we wandered up the hill and got a room.
The town's name sounds like it was inspired by the more famous beach area in Rio de Janeiro, but as we found out when we arrived, Rio's Copacabana is actually named after this little lake-side hamlet. It seems that Copacabana has a large, rather magnificent moor-inspired church that attracts pilgrims from all over Bolivia and Peru.
After checking into our hotel, we went down to the water's edge to find a restaurant that my book recommended. This would be the first of a series of meals featuring the area's star culinary attraction . . . trucha. For those of you who don't speak Spanish, trucha is trout. Specifically, trout from the lake and boy does it make a difference when you order the local delicacy. Over the next few days we would have trucha prepared in many different styles and it was all so yummy.
The next morning, we hopped on a local boat to take us to the Isla del Sol. The boat was jam-packed with other tourists and the next two-and-a-half hours was one of the most uncomfortable travel experiences of my life. The boat was packed with cheap metal and red vinyl chairs and they seemed to just keep loading as many people as they could fit on board. If that wasn't bad enough, we hit an intense rainstorm which caused a bunch of leaks, leading to my entire left side being drenched, as I was right next to the window.
The Isla del Sol is an impressive island, the main attraction being a couple of towns and long walk over the spine of the island, a tall ridge of peaks from which you can see for miles around the lake. Legend has it that this is where the original Incas were born. We hiked the peaks for a few hours and, after eating a lunch of . . . . yup, you guessed it, trucha, we took the afternoon boat back to Copacabana. The return trip was much more enjoyable.
We were a little worried about our trip back to Puno the next day because a two-day transportation strike had been declared in Bolivia. As I was checking out of our hotel the next morning, the attendant offered to find a taxi for us. It sounded like a good offer, but as he called his contacts, he was turned down one-by-one. Finally, he found someone to take us and we headed for the border. We had originally resigned ourselves to walking to the border, but was happy to break the strike (actually, we both felt a little guilty). Luckily, Copacabana is only 8 km from the Peruvian border and, as there was no strike in Peru, if we could make it there, we'd have no problem getting back to Puno.
Our taxi could only drive us as far as a road block, about 5 km down the road. When we arrived there, I couldn't tell if the strikers were pissed off at us. Our driver seemed a little cautious, but after a few minutes it became apparent that he was going to hand us over to another cab, on the other side of the roadblock, who would take us the rest of the way. We jumped in the cab and were whisked away to the border, where we passed through without any problems.
From the border, we decided to walk a few km to the main town, where we caught a minibus back to Puno. I promised Francoise that we would not travel on any buses with chickens running around and, after a quick break so that she could use the facilities of 'the worst bathroom in the world', we were on our way. There were no chickens, but it wasn't the most enjoyable bus ride I've taken.
Returning to Cusco that night at 3am, we decided to rest for the day before we headed off on a one-day Machu Picchu excursion. Unfortunately, we weren't able to get tickets for Friday, as the train was sold out. As this is low season, the trains are usually not full. But this year is different. My theory is that since the dollar is so weak compared to the Euro and terrorism fears keep people from doing much traveling in Europe, South America is currently a popular destination for Americans. In Cusco I come in contact with a lot of Europeans traveling on their own, but Americans seem to like to travel only in group excursions. Thus I only encounter them in places that their groups would allow them. This would explain why whenever I go to Machu Picchu, the place seems to be crawling with them. It's odd.
Saturday marked our Machu Picchu day trip. It can be quite a haul: catching a train at 6am, getting into Aguas Calientes by 10am, catching a bus up to the ruins, seeing the ruins, catching the return train at 4pm, and arriving back in Cusco at around 8pm. We had been joking for the last few days that the Peru cultural committee should use a cool new slogan: Do the 'Chu! (as in maCHU picCHU). I think we annoyed everyone on the bus ride up to the ruins by rhyming anything we could think of with 'chu'. It's a pretty rhyme-able word. Try it out. I will go with YOU to the CHU, so don't be BLUE. Etc, etc, ad nauseam.
Unfortunately, our day was marred by nearly constant rain at the ruins. The famous Machu Picchu view was covered most of the time by clouds and mist, peaking out for only a few minutes at a time. We wandered the ruins, and I think Francoise was impressed (it's hard not to be).
Well, generally, that was our trip. We went out dancing after we returned from the 'Chu, but as it was Dia de Amistad (Day of Friendship, Valentine's day for us), the clubs were crowded with 15-year-olds. Nothing makes you feel old like hanging out with 15-year-olds.
Anyway, I'll send you updates from Ecuador!
Monday, February 16, 2004
It's been a few weeks since I last wrote and some new things have happened . . . my friend Francoise just returned to New York after visiting for a week. Originally, I was going to go to Mollendo (a beach town near Arequipa) with my uncle Ricardo this week and then have another visitor next week, my friend Bhavna from London. But they cancelled, both Ricardo and Bhavna couldn't get off from work for their respective vacations. So here I stay in Cusco.
I'm planning to leave in 2 weeks (March 1) to head up to Ecuador for about 2 months. I have some friends from school who are also heading up there and we're hoping to splurge a little on a week long cruise to the Galapagos. Everything I've heard has been consistent, the Galapagos Islands are one of the best excursions you can take in South America. What makes the islands so great is the wildlife, which have never had natural predators so they're not afraid of humans. This means that you can see them up close and swim amongst them without a problem. The Galapagos tend to be a bit more expensive than many places down here, but we're going there off-season, so we should be able to get a little break on the price.
I've almost made it to the end of all the grammar in my Spanish lessons, which I took 3 more weeks of between Basil and Francoise's respective visits. I'm at the point where I have all the grammar crammed in my head, but I have to put it into practice so that it becomes more natural. Because of this, I've decided not to take lessons for a few weeks (I'll probably take another week up in Quito, where my school has another outpost) and just concentrate on my own study and practice with my family. This means that I have to try to read spanish-language newspapers and novels, practice speaking and writing in all the different tenses, and translate radio programs and popular music to improve my ear. My language skills are getting better, but I just have to work a little harder to be able to get closer to my dream of fluency.
Well, I'll write more in the next couple weeks before I head out on my trip and get you caught up. But for now I will conclude:
MY TRAVELS WITH BASIL, part 2
PHOTOS
After taking the bus back from Puno and our little island adventure, we arrived in Cusco at 3am, not knowing if we were going to be able to pick up again later that day, Friday, and head off to Machu Picchu. Hastily leaving behind the bus at Cusco's Terminal Terrestre and all the passengers who were going to continue to sleep on it until morning, we jumped into a taxi and returned home to catch as many zzzz's as we could.
The next day we arranged with Ricardo (who works for Peru Rail) to get evening tickets to Aguas Calientes (who's real name is Machu Picchu Pueblo) from Ollantaytambo, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas and the last stop before our destination (about an hour and a half away). We ate lunch in Cusco and jumped on a bus to Ollantaytambo. After viewing the Inca ruins there, we caught the train, arrived in Aguas Calientes, and checked into our simple-but-sufficient hotel.
We woke the next morning and ate quickly, ready to really take on our Machu Picchu adventure. We strolled down to the bus station, taking time to play with a very vivacious dog who loved to play catch with a smooth stone that it adored. The trip up the mountain is a winding road that consists of about 11 or 12 switch-backs until you finally reach the entrance gate of the ruins.
After entering, we took the first turnoff path to the left which takes you up to the Hut of the Caretaker of the Funerary Rock, which oversees the entire compound and is where all famous pictures of Machu Picchu are taken (you know the one, with the mountains rising behind the ruins). As it was the rainy season, the mist moved quickly from a valley to our left up over the mountain, obstructing the view of the ruins from time to time. It really was rather exciting to see so much mist rising and falling quickly in the valleys that surround the monument, it's one of those views that's so impressive that you really can just perch yourself up there and watch for a few hours.
We took the path down and walked through the ruins, referencing our tour book to explain all the different important components: the Ceremonial Baths, the Temple of the Sun, the Sacred Plaza, etc. Honestly, walking through ruins is interesting, but after a while it all looks the same.
The most exciting and adventurous thing that I wanted to do on this trip that I didn't have time to do three years ago was to climb the large mountain that rises up behind the main site, Huayna Picchu. It's about a 2-hour trek up and back and they make you sign in and out at the entrance gate, so that they can keep track of everyone. It isn't that dangerous, but you have to be in relatively good shape, people have been known to fall off.
The climb up is definitely taxing, at times having to hold onto rope supports on the side of the trail and climbing up steep, muddy staircases made of rock, even having to crouch through a cave at one point. Before we started up, I thought the trail only takes you to a set of ruins near the top. But you actually go all the way to the precipice of the mountain, a spectacular view with Machu Picchu below, surrounded by mist-filled valleys. We perched ourselves on our own rock slab and just enjoyed the moment before heading back down.
Having finished most of the ruins, we headed back down to Aguas Calientes, stopping for lunch at a French-Peruvian restaurant before catching our train. As my uncle Ricardo works for the company that provides food and concessions on the trains, he had a little undercover work for us. The day before, he had handed us each a $100 dollar bill and instructed us buy as much Peru-oriented merchandise on the train as we could, without asking for receipts, and then return the merchandise after our trip. Apparently, they had heard reports that some of the employees were taking the price tags off the merchandise and selling them for a few dollars more, pocketing the difference.
As this was a higher class train than the one we had taken the night before (it was the Vistadome, not the Backpacker, but certainly not as posh as the highest priced Hiram Bingham, which costs $430 round trip and must be like riding on the Orient Express), we were treated to an unexpected sight: a fashion show. Each car has a handsome pair of attendants, male and female, who, when we reached a certain plateau near the end of the trip, turned up some music (from traditional Peruvian to Madonna) and started to model various alpaca clothing. Basil and I acted the part of tourists needing to buy gifts for home and bought as much as we could with our money. I'm happy to report that the attendants in our car passed the test, providing receipts without being asked and charging us the appropriate prices.
Back in Cusco for the final day of Basil's trip, we decided to make a meal for my family. We usually have a woman who helps my grandmother make meals most days (Monday through Saturday), but Sunday is the day we need to fend for ourselves. We often take turns making a meal and this was my first time. Peruvian food typically starts with a soup and then a main course, all with some sort of complex recipe. Since moving here, I have missed the simplicity of many modern american meals (at least the ones that I make), so we decided to make one of my favorite pasta-oriented creations: angel hair pasta with garlic, tomato, basil (the herb, not the man), and olive oil with a side of steamed broccoli.
It was an experience, since we are not used to cooking for so many people, at this altitude, or without many basic american culinary instruments. We miscalculated the time it takes to boil water at an altitude of 11,000 feet. This, combined with lack of usable burners, pushed back our 1pm lunch back to 2pm. My grandmother enjoys pretty much anything that is done for her, especially if it means that she has a day off from cooking, so she enjoyed our meal. But I think my grandfather, who's used to a bit more complicated dishes, didn't seem to enjoy it that much. He didn't say anything, but I could tell. Needless to say, by the next day the steamed broccoli had been turned into some sort of broccoli salad.
Well, that's pretty much it for Basil's Peruvian adventure. The next day I went back to school and he returned to Los Angeles to start work on the re-shoots for the Will Ferrell film 'Anchorman'. His visit was short, but fun and very appreciated.
I'm planning to leave in 2 weeks (March 1) to head up to Ecuador for about 2 months. I have some friends from school who are also heading up there and we're hoping to splurge a little on a week long cruise to the Galapagos. Everything I've heard has been consistent, the Galapagos Islands are one of the best excursions you can take in South America. What makes the islands so great is the wildlife, which have never had natural predators so they're not afraid of humans. This means that you can see them up close and swim amongst them without a problem. The Galapagos tend to be a bit more expensive than many places down here, but we're going there off-season, so we should be able to get a little break on the price.
I've almost made it to the end of all the grammar in my Spanish lessons, which I took 3 more weeks of between Basil and Francoise's respective visits. I'm at the point where I have all the grammar crammed in my head, but I have to put it into practice so that it becomes more natural. Because of this, I've decided not to take lessons for a few weeks (I'll probably take another week up in Quito, where my school has another outpost) and just concentrate on my own study and practice with my family. This means that I have to try to read spanish-language newspapers and novels, practice speaking and writing in all the different tenses, and translate radio programs and popular music to improve my ear. My language skills are getting better, but I just have to work a little harder to be able to get closer to my dream of fluency.
Well, I'll write more in the next couple weeks before I head out on my trip and get you caught up. But for now I will conclude:
MY TRAVELS WITH BASIL, part 2
PHOTOS
After taking the bus back from Puno and our little island adventure, we arrived in Cusco at 3am, not knowing if we were going to be able to pick up again later that day, Friday, and head off to Machu Picchu. Hastily leaving behind the bus at Cusco's Terminal Terrestre and all the passengers who were going to continue to sleep on it until morning, we jumped into a taxi and returned home to catch as many zzzz's as we could.
The next day we arranged with Ricardo (who works for Peru Rail) to get evening tickets to Aguas Calientes (who's real name is Machu Picchu Pueblo) from Ollantaytambo, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas and the last stop before our destination (about an hour and a half away). We ate lunch in Cusco and jumped on a bus to Ollantaytambo. After viewing the Inca ruins there, we caught the train, arrived in Aguas Calientes, and checked into our simple-but-sufficient hotel.
We woke the next morning and ate quickly, ready to really take on our Machu Picchu adventure. We strolled down to the bus station, taking time to play with a very vivacious dog who loved to play catch with a smooth stone that it adored. The trip up the mountain is a winding road that consists of about 11 or 12 switch-backs until you finally reach the entrance gate of the ruins.
After entering, we took the first turnoff path to the left which takes you up to the Hut of the Caretaker of the Funerary Rock, which oversees the entire compound and is where all famous pictures of Machu Picchu are taken (you know the one, with the mountains rising behind the ruins). As it was the rainy season, the mist moved quickly from a valley to our left up over the mountain, obstructing the view of the ruins from time to time. It really was rather exciting to see so much mist rising and falling quickly in the valleys that surround the monument, it's one of those views that's so impressive that you really can just perch yourself up there and watch for a few hours.
We took the path down and walked through the ruins, referencing our tour book to explain all the different important components: the Ceremonial Baths, the Temple of the Sun, the Sacred Plaza, etc. Honestly, walking through ruins is interesting, but after a while it all looks the same.
The most exciting and adventurous thing that I wanted to do on this trip that I didn't have time to do three years ago was to climb the large mountain that rises up behind the main site, Huayna Picchu. It's about a 2-hour trek up and back and they make you sign in and out at the entrance gate, so that they can keep track of everyone. It isn't that dangerous, but you have to be in relatively good shape, people have been known to fall off.
The climb up is definitely taxing, at times having to hold onto rope supports on the side of the trail and climbing up steep, muddy staircases made of rock, even having to crouch through a cave at one point. Before we started up, I thought the trail only takes you to a set of ruins near the top. But you actually go all the way to the precipice of the mountain, a spectacular view with Machu Picchu below, surrounded by mist-filled valleys. We perched ourselves on our own rock slab and just enjoyed the moment before heading back down.
Having finished most of the ruins, we headed back down to Aguas Calientes, stopping for lunch at a French-Peruvian restaurant before catching our train. As my uncle Ricardo works for the company that provides food and concessions on the trains, he had a little undercover work for us. The day before, he had handed us each a $100 dollar bill and instructed us buy as much Peru-oriented merchandise on the train as we could, without asking for receipts, and then return the merchandise after our trip. Apparently, they had heard reports that some of the employees were taking the price tags off the merchandise and selling them for a few dollars more, pocketing the difference.
As this was a higher class train than the one we had taken the night before (it was the Vistadome, not the Backpacker, but certainly not as posh as the highest priced Hiram Bingham, which costs $430 round trip and must be like riding on the Orient Express), we were treated to an unexpected sight: a fashion show. Each car has a handsome pair of attendants, male and female, who, when we reached a certain plateau near the end of the trip, turned up some music (from traditional Peruvian to Madonna) and started to model various alpaca clothing. Basil and I acted the part of tourists needing to buy gifts for home and bought as much as we could with our money. I'm happy to report that the attendants in our car passed the test, providing receipts without being asked and charging us the appropriate prices.
Back in Cusco for the final day of Basil's trip, we decided to make a meal for my family. We usually have a woman who helps my grandmother make meals most days (Monday through Saturday), but Sunday is the day we need to fend for ourselves. We often take turns making a meal and this was my first time. Peruvian food typically starts with a soup and then a main course, all with some sort of complex recipe. Since moving here, I have missed the simplicity of many modern american meals (at least the ones that I make), so we decided to make one of my favorite pasta-oriented creations: angel hair pasta with garlic, tomato, basil (the herb, not the man), and olive oil with a side of steamed broccoli.
It was an experience, since we are not used to cooking for so many people, at this altitude, or without many basic american culinary instruments. We miscalculated the time it takes to boil water at an altitude of 11,000 feet. This, combined with lack of usable burners, pushed back our 1pm lunch back to 2pm. My grandmother enjoys pretty much anything that is done for her, especially if it means that she has a day off from cooking, so she enjoyed our meal. But I think my grandfather, who's used to a bit more complicated dishes, didn't seem to enjoy it that much. He didn't say anything, but I could tell. Needless to say, by the next day the steamed broccoli had been turned into some sort of broccoli salad.
Well, that's pretty much it for Basil's Peruvian adventure. The next day I went back to school and he returned to Los Angeles to start work on the re-shoots for the Will Ferrell film 'Anchorman'. His visit was short, but fun and very appreciated.
Sunday, January 25, 2004
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 . . .
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 . . .
Monday, January 05, 2004
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
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
Friday, December 26, 2003
Well, it's the day after Xmas and I finally have a week to just relax, study Spanish, and do some writing, before I head back to school. The last couple of weeks have been a bit hectic (as I'm sure they have been for everyone) with my trip to Arequipa and returning with just a few days before Xmas.
Xmas in Cusco is a big deal. While it has been somewhat commercialized as in the States, it definitely feels a lot more religious down here. Which makes sense since almost everyone here is very Catholic. The Plaza de Armas had been decorated for weeks with lights in the form of silhouettes of Xmas-oriented animals (and llamas too, don't forget the llamas!!). In our neighborhood, Santa Monica, which is one of the more affluent areas, there is quite a bit decoration on the houses. In addition to the standard 'lights on houses' motif, you do see a lot more Nativity scenes down here. Lots of Nativity scenes. My favorite comes from a house around the corner from ours, in which the owners have decorated an old tree in front with hanging presents and, high up in the trunk (about 12 feet off the ground), a miniature wood house with a nativity scene inside.
PHOTOS. Click the link or go to:
http://public.fotki.com/timSAA/xmas_in_cusco/
The one thing that was stressing me out about Xmas this year was knowing what the present protocol was for down here. As people here (including my family) don't really have much money, Xmas is not as much of a commercial venture. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of stores here with gifts, music and decoration. In fact, a few shops near our house even had a dancing Mickey Mouse and Barney (as in the big, ugly purple dinosaur) out in front, trying to lure parents and their children inside. To solve my conundrum, I asked a few family members and the general consensus that I got is that presents are mostly for the children.
So I went out shopping at some shops nearby and got gifts for my cousins, but as I continued at a the central market the following day, I thought to myself that this might be the only Xmas I'm ever down here. I've had 31 Xmases with my American family and none with my Peruvian family, so I decided to just get something for everyone. Heck, it's a bit consumer-oriented, but I am an American. Besides, our money goes so far here that it was nice for once to buy presents for people and not worry about going broke.
As Xmas approached, I learned that in latin countries Xmas eve is the big thing. It's kind of like New Year's and the Fourth of July combined. Everyone stays up late and waits for Xmas day at midnight, at which point you sit down for dinner and open presents afterwards.
Early in the evening, as my uncle Adolfo and his daughter Pamela were preparing the dinner, I was able to do my favorite activity in Cusco so far: I just hung out in the kitchen with family. We got a boom box and I grabbed my iPod and we just listened to music, talked, cooked dinner, and drank a few beers. I've had a few times like that and I just love them, relaxing with the family. As you might imagine, music is a big part of life down here and my family just loves it, so we had a good 'ol time.
Afterwards, I headed off with my uncle Ricardo to deliver my present for his daughter, Melissa. I'm very close with his ex-wife Maria Elisa's family - partly because they live so close (just 5 minutes walking) and partly because they all speak english fluently (except Melissa, she's very timid about it). I called Sarah to wish her a happy Xmas, and by the time I finished, I came down stairs and Melissa was already playing with the game I gave her (see photos for an explanation). She's very sporty, so she likes games that use hand-eye coordination.
We returned home to find that our guests for the evening had arrived: my uncle Adolfo's business partner, Tania, her son, Luigi (short for Luis Guillermo), and her brother. We settled in to wait for midnight.
When I was in Arequipa, I bought a CD of the most famous Peruvian Creole singer, Eva Ayllon, so I put it on to sparked some energy. Tania danced with my Grandpa Adolfo, and my uncle Adolfo danced with my Grandma Livia. It was a grand time.
Midnight finally came, and everyone went outside to light off fireworks: firecrackers and a couple roman candles. Throughout the city you could hear fireworks being fired off. Occasionally, you could see some bottle rockets surge into the sky.
We all retreated back into the house for a family hug and then sat down for dinner. Adolfo had prepared a turkey roll stuffed with spices, along with this mashed potato-apple puree dish . . . they were terrific!
After dinner, we went into the living room by the Xmas tree and collected all the presents. Everyone opened their presents and were quite happy. I gave my grandparents, down jackets; my uncle Adolfo, a dress shirt; my aunt Patricia, some CDs; my uncle Ricardo, a comforter; and my cousin Patricia, a purse. We were all so exhausted, I finally crept upstairs and passed out.
The next morning Adolfo's kids returned to open their presents. I gave the twins, Ganesh and Lashmi, a couple of board games, Junior Pictionary and Uno, respectively. To my cousin Maria Fernanda, who will turn 15 in March, I gave her her first purse, a little black denim thing with reversed white stitching (her sister Pamela liked it so much, she kept trying to steal it away from her). And to Pamela, I gave a red wallet.
This was also kind of a sad day because all of Adolfo's kids, who are out of school for summer vacation, were leaving to go live at their other grandparent's house for a couple months in Calca, a town, about 45 minutes away, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. So, after a few hours, I helped them collect their things and then they all left in a taxi to go back to their mother's place.
Finally, Ricardo prepared this fantastic dish for Xmas day lunch that consisted of beef with mustard sauce and mashed potatoes. He's a great chef and is hoping to be able to study the culinary arts in the next few years and get work as a chef, or open a restaurant.
Tuckered out by the great lunch, I went to my aunt Maria Elisa's house to relax and watch movies for the rest of the day.
Thus concludes my Xmas day in Cusco, Peru.
I hope you all had a great holiday,
Tim
Xmas in Cusco is a big deal. While it has been somewhat commercialized as in the States, it definitely feels a lot more religious down here. Which makes sense since almost everyone here is very Catholic. The Plaza de Armas had been decorated for weeks with lights in the form of silhouettes of Xmas-oriented animals (and llamas too, don't forget the llamas!!). In our neighborhood, Santa Monica, which is one of the more affluent areas, there is quite a bit decoration on the houses. In addition to the standard 'lights on houses' motif, you do see a lot more Nativity scenes down here. Lots of Nativity scenes. My favorite comes from a house around the corner from ours, in which the owners have decorated an old tree in front with hanging presents and, high up in the trunk (about 12 feet off the ground), a miniature wood house with a nativity scene inside.
PHOTOS. Click the link or go to:
http://public.fotki.com/timSAA/xmas_in_cusco/
The one thing that was stressing me out about Xmas this year was knowing what the present protocol was for down here. As people here (including my family) don't really have much money, Xmas is not as much of a commercial venture. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of stores here with gifts, music and decoration. In fact, a few shops near our house even had a dancing Mickey Mouse and Barney (as in the big, ugly purple dinosaur) out in front, trying to lure parents and their children inside. To solve my conundrum, I asked a few family members and the general consensus that I got is that presents are mostly for the children.
So I went out shopping at some shops nearby and got gifts for my cousins, but as I continued at a the central market the following day, I thought to myself that this might be the only Xmas I'm ever down here. I've had 31 Xmases with my American family and none with my Peruvian family, so I decided to just get something for everyone. Heck, it's a bit consumer-oriented, but I am an American. Besides, our money goes so far here that it was nice for once to buy presents for people and not worry about going broke.
As Xmas approached, I learned that in latin countries Xmas eve is the big thing. It's kind of like New Year's and the Fourth of July combined. Everyone stays up late and waits for Xmas day at midnight, at which point you sit down for dinner and open presents afterwards.
Early in the evening, as my uncle Adolfo and his daughter Pamela were preparing the dinner, I was able to do my favorite activity in Cusco so far: I just hung out in the kitchen with family. We got a boom box and I grabbed my iPod and we just listened to music, talked, cooked dinner, and drank a few beers. I've had a few times like that and I just love them, relaxing with the family. As you might imagine, music is a big part of life down here and my family just loves it, so we had a good 'ol time.
Afterwards, I headed off with my uncle Ricardo to deliver my present for his daughter, Melissa. I'm very close with his ex-wife Maria Elisa's family - partly because they live so close (just 5 minutes walking) and partly because they all speak english fluently (except Melissa, she's very timid about it). I called Sarah to wish her a happy Xmas, and by the time I finished, I came down stairs and Melissa was already playing with the game I gave her (see photos for an explanation). She's very sporty, so she likes games that use hand-eye coordination.
We returned home to find that our guests for the evening had arrived: my uncle Adolfo's business partner, Tania, her son, Luigi (short for Luis Guillermo), and her brother. We settled in to wait for midnight.
When I was in Arequipa, I bought a CD of the most famous Peruvian Creole singer, Eva Ayllon, so I put it on to sparked some energy. Tania danced with my Grandpa Adolfo, and my uncle Adolfo danced with my Grandma Livia. It was a grand time.
Midnight finally came, and everyone went outside to light off fireworks: firecrackers and a couple roman candles. Throughout the city you could hear fireworks being fired off. Occasionally, you could see some bottle rockets surge into the sky.
We all retreated back into the house for a family hug and then sat down for dinner. Adolfo had prepared a turkey roll stuffed with spices, along with this mashed potato-apple puree dish . . . they were terrific!
After dinner, we went into the living room by the Xmas tree and collected all the presents. Everyone opened their presents and were quite happy. I gave my grandparents, down jackets; my uncle Adolfo, a dress shirt; my aunt Patricia, some CDs; my uncle Ricardo, a comforter; and my cousin Patricia, a purse. We were all so exhausted, I finally crept upstairs and passed out.
The next morning Adolfo's kids returned to open their presents. I gave the twins, Ganesh and Lashmi, a couple of board games, Junior Pictionary and Uno, respectively. To my cousin Maria Fernanda, who will turn 15 in March, I gave her her first purse, a little black denim thing with reversed white stitching (her sister Pamela liked it so much, she kept trying to steal it away from her). And to Pamela, I gave a red wallet.
This was also kind of a sad day because all of Adolfo's kids, who are out of school for summer vacation, were leaving to go live at their other grandparent's house for a couple months in Calca, a town, about 45 minutes away, in the Sacred Valley of the Incas. So, after a few hours, I helped them collect their things and then they all left in a taxi to go back to their mother's place.
Finally, Ricardo prepared this fantastic dish for Xmas day lunch that consisted of beef with mustard sauce and mashed potatoes. He's a great chef and is hoping to be able to study the culinary arts in the next few years and get work as a chef, or open a restaurant.
Tuckered out by the great lunch, I went to my aunt Maria Elisa's house to relax and watch movies for the rest of the day.
Thus concludes my Xmas day in Cusco, Peru.
I hope you all had a great holiday,
Tim