CUSCO, PERU - Well, I've been meaning to write an update to my travel blog for the many months that I've been back in New York City, but I never put it at the top of my list. Since I'm now back in Cusco, Peru to spend a few weeks with my father in his homeland, I figured I should bring the story up-to-date.
NYC: THE RETURN
I actually returned to NYC back at the beginning of August of last year and moved into my new apartment - for one night. The next day I jumped into an SUV with some of my UCLA/NYC friends to head up to Maine for the weekend to attend the wedding of my friends Karl and Margaret. Returning to NYC, I set about settling into my new life. I was fortunate to find a room with the Jeff Israel, the twin brother of my friend Jimmy. He and I seem to get along really well and I even assisted with the redecoration of his apartment.
The next few months were rather uneventful - I started temping at Merrill Lynch again and editing the travel doc about the train trip from Cusco to Machu Picchu. I also began to plan for my return to South America for 4 months to visit Peru and continue on to Argentina. However, in January, just a few weeks before my return, I ran out of work at the temp agency. This really threw me for a loop because I had decided to leave on Feb. 1st instead of Jan. 1st so that I could earn more money for the trip. After not being called for a few days by the temp agency, I decided to send an email over to Nautica, the apparel company I had worked for on-and-off for the last 7 years, to see if they had any extra graphic design work. Within a few hours I received a phone call from my friend Rodrigo asking me to come in and help out.
Nautica had just reformed the Creative Services division as part of the marketing department, a change that occurred after the company was bought 15 months ago by a larger apparel company called Vanity Fair Corporation, or VFC. They're rolling out all this new advertising under the new slogan for Nautica, "Navigate Life". It became obvious after a few days that there would be a lot of work in the future and that I could continue to work there as a permanent freelancer, in the same capacity I had worked for them years before.
Working at Nautica had a strange effect on me that I had not felt for 3 years in a vocational capacity: confidence. Working again in a field where I am skilled (as opposed to temping, which doesn't really take many skills), I started feeling good about my future, which seemed to be more open with possibility. While I am thankful that I've had the freedom to travel and discover my Peruvian family, it became more obvious the sacrifices I've made with this vagabond lifestyle. Namely, it takes me away from being a daily part of my friends and family in the States. It wasn't until I started working for Nautica that I realized I was finally "home" and that I still love living in New York City. Basically, I started to commit myself again to my life in the U.S.
The only problem was that I still had a 4 month South American adventure ahead of me! Realizing that this work opportunity probably wouldn't stick around for the next 4 months, I needed to make a decision and think outside the "box" that I had created. My thinking was that the only part of the trip that was non-negotiable was being in Peru for 3 weeks with my father, the accomplishment of a life-long dream of mine. So, I approached Rodrigo with a proposition: I would still leave, as scheduled, on the 31st of January for Peru, but I would return in 3 weeks instead of 4 months to continue working for Nautica. He agreed and here I am!
LESSONS FROM MY LIFE IN PERU
I would highly recommend that everyone spend some time living in a developing nation - especially with a regular family, like mine in Peru. I've been fortunate to see daily life here, with all its difficulties, but also its wonderful moments. There were many aspects of my life in Peru that I wanted apply to my life in the States. Here's some thoughts:
Health. I have to say that I felt healthier with my lifestyle in Cusco than in the States. This mainly had to do with the different eating habits and amount of exercise you get on a daily basis here. I really like that we would eat the largest meal of in the middle of the day, around 1pm. We would then have dinner relatively early as well, around 6pm. As the portion size was generally smaller than in the States (consisting of simple carbohydrates like rice, potatoes, and corn with a bit of protein, chicken or beef) and you have to exert yourself physically so much more in Cusco (walking around at 11,000 ft can be tiring), you generally would burn off all of the energy you take in (and then some). I would sometimes chuckle, knowing that so many people in the States were resorting to fad diets like Atkins to decrease the amount of carbohydrates they were eating, when the typical diet in Peru consists of mostly of them. I've tried to keep the whole 'big meal in the middle of the day' thing in NYC, but it is difficult, since our culture is so much more oriented around dinner. But I think I've generally been good about reducing my portion size and taking the opportunity to walk more. It's a good thing I live in NYC, since we have more of a walking culture. In fact, when I was working in the financial district and the weather was good, I would walk 40 minutes to and from work almost every day.
Difficulty and Meaning. What I've also discovered by living in Peru is that many times things that are more difficult to do often have more meaning. Here in Peru people don't have the option to buy as many things to make their life easier, so you just have to do it the simplest way. It may not be quite as efficient, but efficiency often seems to take the meaning out of doing even mundane things. So when I returned I found myself thinking about if there was a way that I could do things in a less efficient way, without having to spend money on gadgets and tools. The first manifestation of this was moving items from my storage space to my new apartment. As luck would have it, the bus that stops at the corner near my apartment also stops at the corner where my storage space is, a half hour away. So, over the course of a few days I would go to my storage space, load up my backpack with as much as I could carry, and jump on the bus to my apartment. I ended up having to take about 8 trips, but I didn't spend any extra money on a moving van, only on an unlimited MetroCard pass that I would have to buy to get around in NYC anyways. When I moved a chair that was too big to take on the bus, I strapped it to a hand cart and rolled it to my apartment over an hour-and-a-half. It was more difficult, but even moving into my apartment seemed to have more meaning.
Consumerism. Like I mentioned before, here in Peru most people can't really buy a lot of things because they simply don't have the money. In the past, I've had my share of consumerist tendencies, like most Americans. For me, it was buying DVDs, CDs, or electronic gadgets. When I returned to the States, I looked at all the DVDs I owned and thought 'geez, what a waste of money!' It was crazy to think that my entire CD and DVD collections cost more than some members of my family in Peru can make in a few years! So, I've been trying to add a new habit to my daily consumerist tendencies: trying to think 'is this something I can do without?' or 'is there a cheaper option that results in a similar function?' So, instead of buying DVDs, I subscribed to Netflix, a company that rents and sends you DVDs in mail, which you then send back when you've watched them and they send you more. I have no cable or satellite since, as an aspiring filmmaker, I should be watching movies anyway. I've started being less of a consumer in small ways and I think this is a mindset that will stick.
Well, that's it for now, I'll let you know what's going on with my return to Cusco in the next edition.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
CUSCO, PERU - Well, a week from now I'll be waking up at my parent's house in Newark, CA (which they actually just sold and will be moving back to Fremont, CA shortly). But this morning I'm writing this episode while laying in bed, still in Cusco, looking forward to my return to the States, but sad to see that the time with my family in Peru is coming to an end.
This past week has been a blur of activity and I'm actually quite exhausted. For the last week and a half I've been chasing the trains that go from Cusco to Machu Picchu, filming it for a commercial documentary that my uncle Ricardo's boss Jorge wants me to make. This is particularly tiring as the trains leave Cusco at 6:00, 6:15, and 6:35 am every morning. So, on average, I've been getting up between 4:00 and 5:00 am each day, depending on where I have to go to film. But it is good to have a focus and the opportunity to answer one of the questions that I came to Peru to resolve: do I want to commit myself to a career in filmmaking.
I've also been doing a bit of shopping while I'm in a place where the prices are so cheap. Figuring that I'll probably return for a brief stint working in New York's financial district, I've been buying a bunch of good quality dress shirts at the local black market for about $6 a piece. I figure that money that I spend on these kind of basics is just money that I don't have to spend back in the States, where I'll be spending dollars. I also like to pick up music-related items and am planning on buying a typical Latin American instrument, a small guitar called a charango. I'm hoping that my musical ability will be good enough to try writing some background music for the doc I'm making.
Well, what have I been up to in the last 3 months since the events of my last blog, the end of my trip to Ecuador and Northern Peru? Just hanging out in Cusco with my friends and family, mostly. There have been 3 main things that I've done: taught English, had a visit from my mother and my aunt (which I'll cover in the next blog), and started filming the documentary.
TEACHING: IS THIS MY CALLING?
Simply put: no, it's not. I have to say that my brief one-month stint teaching English at the local US Embassy-funded language school Instituto Cultural Peruano-Norteamericano (ICPNA for short) was less than inspiring. But it has given me a lot more respect for teachers. Especially, those who teach teenagers.
Originally, I was told by the head of the program that I should plan on being in Cusco a month before I would begin teaching so that I could start training. Throughout May, they had me attend classes being taught by other instructors so that I could see what a typical teaching experience is like. It was a good introduction to the art of teaching English, and I was able to compare different styles and methods. Most teachers at ICPNA are actually Peruvians who learned English as a second language, so it's always good to have native speakers around (as the Peruvian instructor's English is often times a bit off).
As June and the time to start teaching approached, I was a bit concerned about how the school's system worked (as we were receiving almost no leadership from the school), but figured that I could work it out along the way. I met a few other new teachers from the States or England and, between the few of us, we pieced enough information together to understand how to navigate the system. We didn't receive books or even know what levels we would be teaching until the first day of class. So, I spent the first day just getting to know the students in both classes I was going to teach.
My first class, a mid-intermediate level, was filled with adults. I was happy because they seemed to be motivated to learn, probably by the knowledge that, in Cusco's tourist-oriented marketplace, people who know how to speak English have better work opportunities than those who do not. My second class, a high basic level, was at 2:15 pm and, because it started right after the end of high school day, was filled with teenagers. They, on the other hand and with a few exceptions, seemed to be there because they had to be. To the teenagers, attending ICPNA seemed to be more of a social opportunity. In fact, my friend Sandy has a teenage sister who wanted to attend ICPNA because it was the social 'thing to do', regardless of the fact that her English is pretty good and her parents actually own a competing English institute!
Throughout the month, I found that teaching is a lot of work. I only taught for 3 hours a day (2 one-and-a-half hour classes), but found myself having to spend a lot of time preparing for class, creating quizzes, or correcting them. The payoff for me was there for my adult intermediate class, the students liked to talk and discuss different topics and learn whatever they could about life in the United States. In my teenage class, however, it was much more like pulling teeth. I would introduce a topic and attempt to initiate a class discussion, but the students were so timid that they just didn't talk. I tried to steer the conversations towards topics that they would like more, but they just didn't respond.
With regards to grading, I think I'm a bit tougher of a teacher than most. In my own high school and early university career, I was not a stellar student and probably know all the tricks that students can play because, at one time or another, I've played them. So, while I tried to give my students several opportunities to score high marks (we had to test them individually for speaking, listening, reading and writing), my teenage class just didn't respond. I had felt, from the beginning, that there was an inclination at the school to pass people up the system when they completed each level, even if they didn't really master the material. Both classes had people that I felt didn't seem up to the level that I was teaching. In the end, 3 out of 13 in my intermediate class didn't pass while half of my basic class of 12 would have to repeat the level. It may sound harsh, but after looking at each individual student, I was confident that my system had appropriately selected those who should move on and weeded out those who should repeat the level. In the end, I felt a sense of accomplishment in completing even 1 month, but knew that this isn't the profession for me. I think I'm the kind of person who appreciates being the student and learning new things rather than being the teacher. It may a bit selfish, but hell, I would rather spend my time learning from a good teacher!
TRAINSPOTTING: A SURPRISING OPPORTUNITY
I basically fell into making a project about the train trip to Machu Picchu. Here's what happened: I was at a party with my uncle Ricardo and started talking to his boss/best friend Jorge, who owns the company that provides the catering for the Cusco-Machu Picchu trains and also sells tourist items on them. He mentioned that he commissioned a documentary made recently about the trip, but that it was really boring and not something that he could sell to tourists as a keepsake to remember their voyage. I mentioned that I had gone to film school and that I had studied editing in New York.
Now, something that he didn't know was that I had come down to Peru with an ultimatum for myself, either I start working on a film career and write or make films with my time here or I go back to the States prepared to take on another vocation. Honestly, I've been in a conundrum for years about whether to take seriously my desire to have film career, afraid to give it a shot (partly because everyone I know who works in film is dirt poor!) and afraid to give up the dream (what else would I do?). This inner struggle had defined my life for too many years and I needed to move on.
Well, Jorge and I put 2 and 2 together and came up with the idea that I should make a new, more tourist-friendly version that includes more history and interesting anecdotes for him to sell on the trains. I put on my business hat and decided that it would be more advantageous for me to put myself into the position of distributor, rather than just a filmmaker for hire. So, we made a deal that I would provide all of the production costs and sell him wholesale a DVD for $10 that he could mark up and sell retail for $20, contingent upon him thinking that the film was marketable. I have very little risk, since I already own and brought with me the equipment that I'd need (except a good tripod - Francoise!!) and he has little risk because he doesn't have to spend a dime until he sees a product that he likes. Now, I don't LOVE trains or anything, but this also gives me an opportunity to work on a project and fulfill my desire to see if filmmaking is really for me. So, even if, for some reason, we don't end up selling the video on the trains, everybody wins.
Well, the first day I went to go film the trains leaving the San Pedro station in Cusco (about 2 weeks ago), they wouldn't let me film since the company hadn't secured permission from PeruRail. I had to wait a week, with time ticking town until my departure from Peru, but finally last weekend I got the piece of paper that gives me free access to the trains and all the stations. As I said before, this means that I've been getting up quite early to track down the trains and film what they do: go by.
Last Wednesday, I got my aunt to allow my uncle Adolfo and I to use her family's car to shoot the train leaving Cusco and in the nearby countryside. I needed Adolfo as extra security since the train goes through some rather dangerous areas on its way out of Cusco. In the countryside, we found an area where the train parallels the nearby highway and we were able to shoot it close up from the outside. Many of the passengers were bemused by us, having seen us at several points along their route. In fact, the next day as I shot film of the Machu Picchu ruins (after riding and shooting the train from the inside that morning), I met several people who were amazed that I was that 'crazy-train-filming guy'.
On my trip to Aguas Calientes on Thursday and Friday, I decided that I would walk up from the valley to the monument so that I could get some shots of buses crossing the river and winding up the switch-backs to the monument. This was one killer hike! Determined, I finally reached the top, after taking about 6-7 breaks to deal with the exhaustion of climbing so many stairs. Needless to say, I met many people walking down, but no other hikers going up. Friday morning, I woke up early to walk 6 kilometers down the tracks to Kilometer 104 (Aguas Calientes is at Km 110), where people get off the train to take the 2-day Inca Trail hike. Unfortunately, there were only 2 passengers that got off (Km 82 is the more popular place to disembark for the 4-day hike)! Basically, I've done a hell of a lot of hiking in the last few days.
Yesterday, after filming the train arriving at its last station in the Sacred Valley, Ollantaytambo, I took a stroll along the tracks in the countryside to find a good vantage point to shoot the next train passing by. I found a little ditch next to the tracks and prepared to get a dramatic shot from below of the train passing by. Everything went as planned, but as the train passed I felt a little smattering of liquid. Unfortunately, the bathrooms on these trains dump their contents right onto the tracks, so, most likely, I was showered in a mixture of water and urine. Ewwww! Oh well, anything for the shot, right?
Well, tomorrow I have to get up early to take a bus back to Ollantaytambo and then on to Km 82 to shoot hikers getting off the train for the Inca Trail hike. Finally, Tuesday morning, I'll be taking a taxi with Adolfo and shooting the remaining shots of the train leaving Cusco and getting a few shots of early morning Cusco. Then I'll have a few months back in NYC to edit the film and see if there's anything else that I need to get before possibly returning to Cusco for a few weeks in late November and December with my parents.
I'll keep you posted on the results, if you're interested.
This past week has been a blur of activity and I'm actually quite exhausted. For the last week and a half I've been chasing the trains that go from Cusco to Machu Picchu, filming it for a commercial documentary that my uncle Ricardo's boss Jorge wants me to make. This is particularly tiring as the trains leave Cusco at 6:00, 6:15, and 6:35 am every morning. So, on average, I've been getting up between 4:00 and 5:00 am each day, depending on where I have to go to film. But it is good to have a focus and the opportunity to answer one of the questions that I came to Peru to resolve: do I want to commit myself to a career in filmmaking.
I've also been doing a bit of shopping while I'm in a place where the prices are so cheap. Figuring that I'll probably return for a brief stint working in New York's financial district, I've been buying a bunch of good quality dress shirts at the local black market for about $6 a piece. I figure that money that I spend on these kind of basics is just money that I don't have to spend back in the States, where I'll be spending dollars. I also like to pick up music-related items and am planning on buying a typical Latin American instrument, a small guitar called a charango. I'm hoping that my musical ability will be good enough to try writing some background music for the doc I'm making.
Well, what have I been up to in the last 3 months since the events of my last blog, the end of my trip to Ecuador and Northern Peru? Just hanging out in Cusco with my friends and family, mostly. There have been 3 main things that I've done: taught English, had a visit from my mother and my aunt (which I'll cover in the next blog), and started filming the documentary.
TEACHING: IS THIS MY CALLING?
Simply put: no, it's not. I have to say that my brief one-month stint teaching English at the local US Embassy-funded language school Instituto Cultural Peruano-Norteamericano (ICPNA for short) was less than inspiring. But it has given me a lot more respect for teachers. Especially, those who teach teenagers.
Originally, I was told by the head of the program that I should plan on being in Cusco a month before I would begin teaching so that I could start training. Throughout May, they had me attend classes being taught by other instructors so that I could see what a typical teaching experience is like. It was a good introduction to the art of teaching English, and I was able to compare different styles and methods. Most teachers at ICPNA are actually Peruvians who learned English as a second language, so it's always good to have native speakers around (as the Peruvian instructor's English is often times a bit off).
As June and the time to start teaching approached, I was a bit concerned about how the school's system worked (as we were receiving almost no leadership from the school), but figured that I could work it out along the way. I met a few other new teachers from the States or England and, between the few of us, we pieced enough information together to understand how to navigate the system. We didn't receive books or even know what levels we would be teaching until the first day of class. So, I spent the first day just getting to know the students in both classes I was going to teach.
My first class, a mid-intermediate level, was filled with adults. I was happy because they seemed to be motivated to learn, probably by the knowledge that, in Cusco's tourist-oriented marketplace, people who know how to speak English have better work opportunities than those who do not. My second class, a high basic level, was at 2:15 pm and, because it started right after the end of high school day, was filled with teenagers. They, on the other hand and with a few exceptions, seemed to be there because they had to be. To the teenagers, attending ICPNA seemed to be more of a social opportunity. In fact, my friend Sandy has a teenage sister who wanted to attend ICPNA because it was the social 'thing to do', regardless of the fact that her English is pretty good and her parents actually own a competing English institute!
Throughout the month, I found that teaching is a lot of work. I only taught for 3 hours a day (2 one-and-a-half hour classes), but found myself having to spend a lot of time preparing for class, creating quizzes, or correcting them. The payoff for me was there for my adult intermediate class, the students liked to talk and discuss different topics and learn whatever they could about life in the United States. In my teenage class, however, it was much more like pulling teeth. I would introduce a topic and attempt to initiate a class discussion, but the students were so timid that they just didn't talk. I tried to steer the conversations towards topics that they would like more, but they just didn't respond.
With regards to grading, I think I'm a bit tougher of a teacher than most. In my own high school and early university career, I was not a stellar student and probably know all the tricks that students can play because, at one time or another, I've played them. So, while I tried to give my students several opportunities to score high marks (we had to test them individually for speaking, listening, reading and writing), my teenage class just didn't respond. I had felt, from the beginning, that there was an inclination at the school to pass people up the system when they completed each level, even if they didn't really master the material. Both classes had people that I felt didn't seem up to the level that I was teaching. In the end, 3 out of 13 in my intermediate class didn't pass while half of my basic class of 12 would have to repeat the level. It may sound harsh, but after looking at each individual student, I was confident that my system had appropriately selected those who should move on and weeded out those who should repeat the level. In the end, I felt a sense of accomplishment in completing even 1 month, but knew that this isn't the profession for me. I think I'm the kind of person who appreciates being the student and learning new things rather than being the teacher. It may a bit selfish, but hell, I would rather spend my time learning from a good teacher!
TRAINSPOTTING: A SURPRISING OPPORTUNITY
I basically fell into making a project about the train trip to Machu Picchu. Here's what happened: I was at a party with my uncle Ricardo and started talking to his boss/best friend Jorge, who owns the company that provides the catering for the Cusco-Machu Picchu trains and also sells tourist items on them. He mentioned that he commissioned a documentary made recently about the trip, but that it was really boring and not something that he could sell to tourists as a keepsake to remember their voyage. I mentioned that I had gone to film school and that I had studied editing in New York.
Now, something that he didn't know was that I had come down to Peru with an ultimatum for myself, either I start working on a film career and write or make films with my time here or I go back to the States prepared to take on another vocation. Honestly, I've been in a conundrum for years about whether to take seriously my desire to have film career, afraid to give it a shot (partly because everyone I know who works in film is dirt poor!) and afraid to give up the dream (what else would I do?). This inner struggle had defined my life for too many years and I needed to move on.
Well, Jorge and I put 2 and 2 together and came up with the idea that I should make a new, more tourist-friendly version that includes more history and interesting anecdotes for him to sell on the trains. I put on my business hat and decided that it would be more advantageous for me to put myself into the position of distributor, rather than just a filmmaker for hire. So, we made a deal that I would provide all of the production costs and sell him wholesale a DVD for $10 that he could mark up and sell retail for $20, contingent upon him thinking that the film was marketable. I have very little risk, since I already own and brought with me the equipment that I'd need (except a good tripod - Francoise!!) and he has little risk because he doesn't have to spend a dime until he sees a product that he likes. Now, I don't LOVE trains or anything, but this also gives me an opportunity to work on a project and fulfill my desire to see if filmmaking is really for me. So, even if, for some reason, we don't end up selling the video on the trains, everybody wins.
Well, the first day I went to go film the trains leaving the San Pedro station in Cusco (about 2 weeks ago), they wouldn't let me film since the company hadn't secured permission from PeruRail. I had to wait a week, with time ticking town until my departure from Peru, but finally last weekend I got the piece of paper that gives me free access to the trains and all the stations. As I said before, this means that I've been getting up quite early to track down the trains and film what they do: go by.
Last Wednesday, I got my aunt to allow my uncle Adolfo and I to use her family's car to shoot the train leaving Cusco and in the nearby countryside. I needed Adolfo as extra security since the train goes through some rather dangerous areas on its way out of Cusco. In the countryside, we found an area where the train parallels the nearby highway and we were able to shoot it close up from the outside. Many of the passengers were bemused by us, having seen us at several points along their route. In fact, the next day as I shot film of the Machu Picchu ruins (after riding and shooting the train from the inside that morning), I met several people who were amazed that I was that 'crazy-train-filming guy'.
On my trip to Aguas Calientes on Thursday and Friday, I decided that I would walk up from the valley to the monument so that I could get some shots of buses crossing the river and winding up the switch-backs to the monument. This was one killer hike! Determined, I finally reached the top, after taking about 6-7 breaks to deal with the exhaustion of climbing so many stairs. Needless to say, I met many people walking down, but no other hikers going up. Friday morning, I woke up early to walk 6 kilometers down the tracks to Kilometer 104 (Aguas Calientes is at Km 110), where people get off the train to take the 2-day Inca Trail hike. Unfortunately, there were only 2 passengers that got off (Km 82 is the more popular place to disembark for the 4-day hike)! Basically, I've done a hell of a lot of hiking in the last few days.
Yesterday, after filming the train arriving at its last station in the Sacred Valley, Ollantaytambo, I took a stroll along the tracks in the countryside to find a good vantage point to shoot the next train passing by. I found a little ditch next to the tracks and prepared to get a dramatic shot from below of the train passing by. Everything went as planned, but as the train passed I felt a little smattering of liquid. Unfortunately, the bathrooms on these trains dump their contents right onto the tracks, so, most likely, I was showered in a mixture of water and urine. Ewwww! Oh well, anything for the shot, right?
Well, tomorrow I have to get up early to take a bus back to Ollantaytambo and then on to Km 82 to shoot hikers getting off the train for the Inca Trail hike. Finally, Tuesday morning, I'll be taking a taxi with Adolfo and shooting the remaining shots of the train leaving Cusco and getting a few shots of early morning Cusco. Then I'll have a few months back in NYC to edit the film and see if there's anything else that I need to get before possibly returning to Cusco for a few weeks in late November and December with my parents.
I'll keep you posted on the results, if you're interested.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
CUSCO, PERU - I only have a two-and-a-half more weeks and then my life-long dream of a Peruvian adventure will be accomplished. I'm positive that I will return, but it will probably be for only a couple of weeks at a time instead of 9 months.
I have a lot to look forward to when I return to the United States - a reunion with my high school friends in my hometown, a weekend wedding adventure with my NY friends, a new apartment in Brooklyn, and the fact that my best friend from high school, Bill Herkelrath, and his young family have also moved to Brooklyn. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited about returning.
Well, as I only have a little over 2 weeks and I just returned from another animal sighting adventure in the jungle, I have a lot to write about. So, in the next couple of weeks expect a bit more activity from my blog in your email inbox.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot, here's some pictures from my trip to Ecuador and Northern Peru:
Cuenca/Vilcabamba, Ecuador | Chiclayo/Trujillo, Peru
Huaraz, Part 1 | Huaraz, Part 2 | Lima, Peru
Enjoy!
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HUARAZ ADVENTURE #3: CANYONS AND CASCADES
For those of you who haven't heard of the term 'canyoning', it refers to the sporting practice using ropes and rock climbing equipment to rappel down waterfalls. It's easier than rock climbing because all you are doing is controlling the rate of descent down a rock and water face, instead of the opposite direction, which would be much more difficult. It's pretty easy and you get to see some spectacular waterfalls and canyons.
Our canyoning adventure started rather inauspiciously with a rather abrupt and harsh morning rainstorm. We met early, 6:30 am, at the office of the canyoning guide and ended up waiting there for a couple hours to see where the weather was going. The rain eventually stopped and we loaded the mini-van and started making our way up a mountain near the city of Huaraz. We unloaded the van and started walking down little trails in-between the rustic houses of the campesinos (country people), consisting of dirt and clay.
We eventually reached the canyon we'd spend much of the day in, followed by one or two curious campesinos, and climbed down to put on our equipment. We were given instructions about how to rappel, which is surprisingly easy. Basically, you have a harness around you waist and legs which is attached to this resistance-figure-eight-looking device which allows you to control the rate at which the ropes pass through it. You use your left hand (for right-handers) on the rope above your head for stabilization and your right hand near your right hip to control the speed of the rope going through the resistance device and thus the rate of descent. The first time is always the most disconcerting, as you have to go against what your body naturally wants to do for survival, lean back and let the harness take all the weight. But after a few minutes, you get used to the sensation.
As the sun had refused to make an appearance, the day was not warm, so we all were trying to avoid getting wet. The first few cascades were pretty easy. We'd slowly work our way down the rock face, having to plunge our feet into the cold water of the waterfall and continuously look for where to step to achieve the best balance. The sun finally came out and we were able to warm ourselves in it. At one crevice, instead of rappelling down, we had to hoist ourselves across, heads down and stomachs to the sky.
The sun stayed with us for a few hours in the middle of the day and we were able to have a warm, pleasant lunch by the edge of the stream. Each waterfall we'd climb down we'd get a little wet and we had been warned that there was one that we wouldn't be able to avoid getting drenched. Unfortunately, by the time we approached that particular cascade the sun had gone hiding behind an overcast sky. Sure enough, when it was my turn, I was confronted with the fact that there was nowhere to go to avoid getting wet, so I tried to get down the waterfall as quickly as possible as the water fell all around me, completely drenching my clothes.
Thankfully, we only had one more cascade to go after getting drenched and we all stood around shivering, a bit tired of the whole experience. We quickly descended what was actually the most beautiful waterfall of them all, surrounded by a canopy of trees and beautifully striped rocks of yellow, orange and red. Afterwards, we quickly climbed down the remainder of the stream looking for the meeting point so that we could change into our dry clothes. Happily dry, we made our way out of the canyon along a little stream/aqueduct carved on the side of the path. My childhood memories of Peru are filled with the wonder of these types of streams, marveling at how the population was able to control so creatively where water went. Walking along this little stream gave me a feeling of contentment and we returned to Huaraz happy with our little adventure.
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #4: CLIMBING GLACIERS
For our final adventure in Huaraz, we decided to go 'ice climbing', which is taking pick axes and adding these spikes to the front of your boots and scaling a wall of ice. Sounds like a bit of a pain and it is, but the other reason for taking this particular excursion was that it was in a beautiful area of mountains at a very high altitude (5400 meters - that's about 18,000 ft!). I hadn't really had a conception of just how beautiful this area was, but it was simply breathtaking (literally)!
We loaded into a 6 am van which drove into mountains for 2 hours until we reached a base camp kind of area with little wooden shacks, the last point at which to buy anything (for more expensive prices than Huaraz). We then started on a rock path (a 45 min.-1 hour walk with frequent brakes) that lead up to the glacier. We were greeted with a sign pointing toward our destination that read (in Spanish, of course) 'Access difficult but not impossible'. Reassured, we continued up the slanted (and occasionally slippery) rock faces as the trail ended. We eventually reached an area that looked as though a thick sheet of ice had slid over the mountain face like lava. This was the glacier.
We quickly made camp as the guides started to set up the ropes that would protect us from falling when climbing. As others in the group started their climbing, I took this opportunity to do a little exploring. I found a few high altitude ponds, beautifully still, reflecting the cotton-candy cumulous clouds floating above. One of these ponds bordered the edge of the glacier and was fed by the run-off via a glorious patch of long icicles. I found a short step up to the glacier which allowed me climb on and walk up its gentle slope. Halfway up, I found a man building . . . not a snowman, but more like a snow bear. I continued past him to the top shelf and could see a few skiers higher up on the slope skiing down the main face of the glacier in the warm mountain sun.
Eventually, I came down from the wonderful sights on top of the glacier to take my turn at ice climbing. The guides slapped some spikes on my boots, tied my harness to the security ropes, and handed me two ice-picks. The key to ice climbing is slamming the ice-picks hard enough that they can support your weight as you pull yourself up. Then you kick your boot spikes into the ice and stand on them as they support you. You repeat this process over and over again until you find yourself quite a ways up the wall of ice. The biggest problem and most tiring aspect is to get your picks to penetrate the the ice. It usually would take about 3-4 swings to get them in enough to support weight. Most of the time they just bounce off the ice or take off small ice chunks. Repeatedly swinging axes at an altitude of 18,000 can get a bit tiring. I kept repeating to myself 'this is such a pain in the ass!'. After scaling about 50 ft I found myself on a little ledge, only about 10 ft from the top where the guides had mounted the ropes. Suddenly, I felt one of my shoe spikes fall off. This was a bummer as it had been happening repeatedly to people in our group. This left me with one working one, but not enough to really be able to go any further, which was fine with me. I began to rappel down, stopping for a moment to retrieve the lost shoe spike which had fallen into a small crevice in the ice, until I reached the rocky surface below. I am glad that I now know how to climb ice, but I don't think I'll be picking it up as a sport any time soon.
As more people from our group continued scaling the glacier, we noted a dark patch of clouds engulfing a not-too-distant mountain in a cloud of snow. We decided to cut the day a little short, which was fine with most of us, tired from just one go at ice climbing. As we walked down the long and rocky path back to the bus, the snowstorm caught up and sprinkled little snow flakes upon us. We hopped aboard the bus and hightailed it back to Huaraz.
Rebecca, Saffron and I had decided to take an 11 pm bus to Lima, but Ben decided to stay in Huaraz for a couple of days and take advantage of the cheap rock climbing activities it afforded. After a little dinner and some rest, we boarded the bus and found ourselves in Lima early the next morning.
LIMA, PERU: THE BIG SURPRISE
When traveling through South America you hear nothing but bad things about Lima. 'It's just another big city!' 'It's so dangerous!' ''There's not much to do there!' Stepping off our bus and quickly catching a taxi, I could feel the humid, overcast morning and it felt good. As we headed towards the posh Lima suburb of Miraflores, driving down a sunken freeway, I was struck at how the feel of the city reminded me of my years in Los Angeles. I had decided to stay at a certain place called 'A Friend's House', unwilling to take up the 'only the cheapest' mentality of Rebecca and Saffron. So, as it was, we went our separate ways and I was back on my own.
I checked into my hotel and caught a few hours of sleep before heading out to explore the area. I walked to the coast and was surprised to find that I really liked the vibe of Lima. I headed to a cafe and ordered breakfast. The table next to me housed a quartet of septuagenarian American ex-patriots. We started talking about why they were living in Peru and their lives there. It was an eye-opening conversation that supported a growing idea I've been having over the last few years about my general retirement plan: get out of the U.S.! They had all worked for oil companies in the Iquitos area of Peru (the northern jungle area) and several of them had married Peruanas. Their general opinion was that the U.S. was a country for young people, a place where older people were forgotten or segregated into old people's communities. They moved to Lima and were able to live a fuller, more active life because their money goes so much further there and the Peruvian culture integrates older people so much better. Sounds good to me!
I really enjoyed talking to these gentlemen and at the end of our conversation I ran into Rebecca and Saffron walking by. We decided to go downtown and check out a few of the sights. After figuring out the local bus system, we caught a bus that went downtown. There, we walked around the colonial center, which houses the Presidential Palace and the city's oldest Cathedral, which was built by the conquerer of the Incas and founder of Lima, Francisco Pizzarro (who's body is also buried there). We then headed over to the Iglesia of San Francisco, as we had heard that they have some good catacombs there. We went on the tour and explored the catacombs, then parting ways so that we could run our errands.
The next few days consisted of me going to my favorite mall of Miraflores, LarcoMar, on the Limeno coast, and catching up on a few movies, and running general errands. I went out with a few people from the hostel to the neighboring area of Barranco, the center of nightlife in Lima, and was quite impressed with the it, a mix of Venice, CA coastal feel and the Berkeley bohemian vibe. And surprisingly pretty, too! We met a group of people from a nearby hostel, called The Point, and decided to move there the next day. I stayed there for a few days, occasionally partying until I decided that it was time for me to return home to Cusco. I hopped online at 6 pm, bought a ticket on AeroContinente by 7 pm, and was back home by 7 am the next morning. I love the flexibility of modern transportation.
--------------------
That does it for my 2 months jaunt into Ecuador and Northern Peru. Sorry, it took so long for me to complete it, but I hoped you enjoyed. Next time I write, I'll let you know about more recent activities (I did just return from the jungle!). Thanks for bearing with me.
Tim
I have a lot to look forward to when I return to the United States - a reunion with my high school friends in my hometown, a weekend wedding adventure with my NY friends, a new apartment in Brooklyn, and the fact that my best friend from high school, Bill Herkelrath, and his young family have also moved to Brooklyn. Needless to say, I'm pretty excited about returning.
Well, as I only have a little over 2 weeks and I just returned from another animal sighting adventure in the jungle, I have a lot to write about. So, in the next couple of weeks expect a bit more activity from my blog in your email inbox.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot, here's some pictures from my trip to Ecuador and Northern Peru:
Cuenca/Vilcabamba, Ecuador | Chiclayo/Trujillo, Peru
Huaraz, Part 1 | Huaraz, Part 2 | Lima, Peru
Enjoy!
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HUARAZ ADVENTURE #3: CANYONS AND CASCADES
For those of you who haven't heard of the term 'canyoning', it refers to the sporting practice using ropes and rock climbing equipment to rappel down waterfalls. It's easier than rock climbing because all you are doing is controlling the rate of descent down a rock and water face, instead of the opposite direction, which would be much more difficult. It's pretty easy and you get to see some spectacular waterfalls and canyons.
Our canyoning adventure started rather inauspiciously with a rather abrupt and harsh morning rainstorm. We met early, 6:30 am, at the office of the canyoning guide and ended up waiting there for a couple hours to see where the weather was going. The rain eventually stopped and we loaded the mini-van and started making our way up a mountain near the city of Huaraz. We unloaded the van and started walking down little trails in-between the rustic houses of the campesinos (country people), consisting of dirt and clay.
We eventually reached the canyon we'd spend much of the day in, followed by one or two curious campesinos, and climbed down to put on our equipment. We were given instructions about how to rappel, which is surprisingly easy. Basically, you have a harness around you waist and legs which is attached to this resistance-figure-eight-looking device which allows you to control the rate at which the ropes pass through it. You use your left hand (for right-handers) on the rope above your head for stabilization and your right hand near your right hip to control the speed of the rope going through the resistance device and thus the rate of descent. The first time is always the most disconcerting, as you have to go against what your body naturally wants to do for survival, lean back and let the harness take all the weight. But after a few minutes, you get used to the sensation.
As the sun had refused to make an appearance, the day was not warm, so we all were trying to avoid getting wet. The first few cascades were pretty easy. We'd slowly work our way down the rock face, having to plunge our feet into the cold water of the waterfall and continuously look for where to step to achieve the best balance. The sun finally came out and we were able to warm ourselves in it. At one crevice, instead of rappelling down, we had to hoist ourselves across, heads down and stomachs to the sky.
The sun stayed with us for a few hours in the middle of the day and we were able to have a warm, pleasant lunch by the edge of the stream. Each waterfall we'd climb down we'd get a little wet and we had been warned that there was one that we wouldn't be able to avoid getting drenched. Unfortunately, by the time we approached that particular cascade the sun had gone hiding behind an overcast sky. Sure enough, when it was my turn, I was confronted with the fact that there was nowhere to go to avoid getting wet, so I tried to get down the waterfall as quickly as possible as the water fell all around me, completely drenching my clothes.
Thankfully, we only had one more cascade to go after getting drenched and we all stood around shivering, a bit tired of the whole experience. We quickly descended what was actually the most beautiful waterfall of them all, surrounded by a canopy of trees and beautifully striped rocks of yellow, orange and red. Afterwards, we quickly climbed down the remainder of the stream looking for the meeting point so that we could change into our dry clothes. Happily dry, we made our way out of the canyon along a little stream/aqueduct carved on the side of the path. My childhood memories of Peru are filled with the wonder of these types of streams, marveling at how the population was able to control so creatively where water went. Walking along this little stream gave me a feeling of contentment and we returned to Huaraz happy with our little adventure.
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #4: CLIMBING GLACIERS
For our final adventure in Huaraz, we decided to go 'ice climbing', which is taking pick axes and adding these spikes to the front of your boots and scaling a wall of ice. Sounds like a bit of a pain and it is, but the other reason for taking this particular excursion was that it was in a beautiful area of mountains at a very high altitude (5400 meters - that's about 18,000 ft!). I hadn't really had a conception of just how beautiful this area was, but it was simply breathtaking (literally)!
We loaded into a 6 am van which drove into mountains for 2 hours until we reached a base camp kind of area with little wooden shacks, the last point at which to buy anything (for more expensive prices than Huaraz). We then started on a rock path (a 45 min.-1 hour walk with frequent brakes) that lead up to the glacier. We were greeted with a sign pointing toward our destination that read (in Spanish, of course) 'Access difficult but not impossible'. Reassured, we continued up the slanted (and occasionally slippery) rock faces as the trail ended. We eventually reached an area that looked as though a thick sheet of ice had slid over the mountain face like lava. This was the glacier.
We quickly made camp as the guides started to set up the ropes that would protect us from falling when climbing. As others in the group started their climbing, I took this opportunity to do a little exploring. I found a few high altitude ponds, beautifully still, reflecting the cotton-candy cumulous clouds floating above. One of these ponds bordered the edge of the glacier and was fed by the run-off via a glorious patch of long icicles. I found a short step up to the glacier which allowed me climb on and walk up its gentle slope. Halfway up, I found a man building . . . not a snowman, but more like a snow bear. I continued past him to the top shelf and could see a few skiers higher up on the slope skiing down the main face of the glacier in the warm mountain sun.
Eventually, I came down from the wonderful sights on top of the glacier to take my turn at ice climbing. The guides slapped some spikes on my boots, tied my harness to the security ropes, and handed me two ice-picks. The key to ice climbing is slamming the ice-picks hard enough that they can support your weight as you pull yourself up. Then you kick your boot spikes into the ice and stand on them as they support you. You repeat this process over and over again until you find yourself quite a ways up the wall of ice. The biggest problem and most tiring aspect is to get your picks to penetrate the the ice. It usually would take about 3-4 swings to get them in enough to support weight. Most of the time they just bounce off the ice or take off small ice chunks. Repeatedly swinging axes at an altitude of 18,000 can get a bit tiring. I kept repeating to myself 'this is such a pain in the ass!'. After scaling about 50 ft I found myself on a little ledge, only about 10 ft from the top where the guides had mounted the ropes. Suddenly, I felt one of my shoe spikes fall off. This was a bummer as it had been happening repeatedly to people in our group. This left me with one working one, but not enough to really be able to go any further, which was fine with me. I began to rappel down, stopping for a moment to retrieve the lost shoe spike which had fallen into a small crevice in the ice, until I reached the rocky surface below. I am glad that I now know how to climb ice, but I don't think I'll be picking it up as a sport any time soon.
As more people from our group continued scaling the glacier, we noted a dark patch of clouds engulfing a not-too-distant mountain in a cloud of snow. We decided to cut the day a little short, which was fine with most of us, tired from just one go at ice climbing. As we walked down the long and rocky path back to the bus, the snowstorm caught up and sprinkled little snow flakes upon us. We hopped aboard the bus and hightailed it back to Huaraz.
Rebecca, Saffron and I had decided to take an 11 pm bus to Lima, but Ben decided to stay in Huaraz for a couple of days and take advantage of the cheap rock climbing activities it afforded. After a little dinner and some rest, we boarded the bus and found ourselves in Lima early the next morning.
LIMA, PERU: THE BIG SURPRISE
When traveling through South America you hear nothing but bad things about Lima. 'It's just another big city!' 'It's so dangerous!' ''There's not much to do there!' Stepping off our bus and quickly catching a taxi, I could feel the humid, overcast morning and it felt good. As we headed towards the posh Lima suburb of Miraflores, driving down a sunken freeway, I was struck at how the feel of the city reminded me of my years in Los Angeles. I had decided to stay at a certain place called 'A Friend's House', unwilling to take up the 'only the cheapest' mentality of Rebecca and Saffron. So, as it was, we went our separate ways and I was back on my own.
I checked into my hotel and caught a few hours of sleep before heading out to explore the area. I walked to the coast and was surprised to find that I really liked the vibe of Lima. I headed to a cafe and ordered breakfast. The table next to me housed a quartet of septuagenarian American ex-patriots. We started talking about why they were living in Peru and their lives there. It was an eye-opening conversation that supported a growing idea I've been having over the last few years about my general retirement plan: get out of the U.S.! They had all worked for oil companies in the Iquitos area of Peru (the northern jungle area) and several of them had married Peruanas. Their general opinion was that the U.S. was a country for young people, a place where older people were forgotten or segregated into old people's communities. They moved to Lima and were able to live a fuller, more active life because their money goes so much further there and the Peruvian culture integrates older people so much better. Sounds good to me!
I really enjoyed talking to these gentlemen and at the end of our conversation I ran into Rebecca and Saffron walking by. We decided to go downtown and check out a few of the sights. After figuring out the local bus system, we caught a bus that went downtown. There, we walked around the colonial center, which houses the Presidential Palace and the city's oldest Cathedral, which was built by the conquerer of the Incas and founder of Lima, Francisco Pizzarro (who's body is also buried there). We then headed over to the Iglesia of San Francisco, as we had heard that they have some good catacombs there. We went on the tour and explored the catacombs, then parting ways so that we could run our errands.
The next few days consisted of me going to my favorite mall of Miraflores, LarcoMar, on the Limeno coast, and catching up on a few movies, and running general errands. I went out with a few people from the hostel to the neighboring area of Barranco, the center of nightlife in Lima, and was quite impressed with the it, a mix of Venice, CA coastal feel and the Berkeley bohemian vibe. And surprisingly pretty, too! We met a group of people from a nearby hostel, called The Point, and decided to move there the next day. I stayed there for a few days, occasionally partying until I decided that it was time for me to return home to Cusco. I hopped online at 6 pm, bought a ticket on AeroContinente by 7 pm, and was back home by 7 am the next morning. I love the flexibility of modern transportation.
--------------------
That does it for my 2 months jaunt into Ecuador and Northern Peru. Sorry, it took so long for me to complete it, but I hoped you enjoyed. Next time I write, I'll let you know about more recent activities (I did just return from the jungle!). Thanks for bearing with me.
Tim
Saturday, July 03, 2004
July 3, 2004
Cusco, Peru
Just a quick note of what I've been up to: just finished my first (and final - more about that some other time) month teaching English at the local language institute, my mother and aunt are in town from the States, and I should be returning in almost exactly one month.
I'm looking forward to getting home. Nine months is a long time to be away, especially if you are a New Yorker (as I found that they seemed to be the most homesick travelers I met on the road). I'm planning to come back, as originally scheduled, on the 31st of July. I'm going to have to race back to the East Coast for my friend Karl's wedding on August 8th in Maine. So, for all my Bay Area friends, I hope to see you in that small sliver of time that I'll have there, probably Aug 1-4.
I decided yesterday to go to the jungle with my mother and my aunt from the United States and we're leaving tomorrow morning for a trip to a pristine 'biosphere' to get eaten alive by mosquitoes and hopefully see some jungle life. I'll be gone until next Saturday, so if you don't hear from me in the next week, it's probably because I'm wrestling a jaguar.
I'll finish up my Huaraz trip details and get you caught up with my more recent adventures when I get back from the jungle, so be prepared for a more-active-than-usual blog in July. Until then, here's the first installment of my Huaraz adventures:
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HUARAZ: JEWEL OF THE ANDES (just to remind you this took place at the tail end of April)
After a hazy night heading south from Trujillo along the Peruvian coast, our bus took a sharp left heading up into the Central Andes region called the Cordillera Blanca (White Mountain Range), the highest and most scenic part of the Andes. We stumbled out of our bus at 6 am and the girls (Rebecca and Saffron) immediately befriend an elderly lady who said that she had a cheap place for us to stay. BIG MISTAKE: the place was a dump.
This scenario underscores an age gap that I felt generally exists between older travelers (I'm 32) and the younger ones (Rebecca and Saffron are 21 and Ben is only 19). When you are a really young traveller, you generally have no money and are trying to travel around South America on, say, $1000 for 3 months. Seasoned travelers will agree that this is possible, but you really have to reduce your spending rates. As these young kids haven't been out in the 'real world', their ability to make money for traveling is much lower. In contrast, while I certainly didn't stay in expensive hotels, I liked to stay in places that were at least comfortable. It's the difference between paying $6-8 a night and only wanting to pay $2-3 a night, but that creates a HUGE difference in quality. Needless to say, as I was traveling with a pack of young'ns, I went with the what the group wanted. The result was a place that had no electricity in the bathroom, no hot water, and beds with limited covering to protect you from the Andean cold. The owner had said that he was going to fix everything quickly, but the term 'quickly' in Latin America is loose concept. After a few days of discomfort, Ben and I moved out to more appropriate accommodations. I was happy.
Outside of my experience with our initial accommodations, Huaraz is quite an amazing place. It is situated within sight of 23 snow-capped peaks and the center of a more youth-oriented, adventurous traveling circle. Surprisingly, if you ask most people who have visited Peru about Huaraz, they've never heard of it. It's one of those jewels that you'll only go to if you've heard about it from someone else who's been there. That being said, if anyone out there plans a trip to some point in the future, I would HIGHLY recommend taking at least a week to explore Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca. It's best done while you're young or in good shape as the activities range from high altitude hikes (1 to 9 days!), mountain climbing, rock climbing, river rafting, canyoning (rappelling down waterfalls), and ice climbing (on glaciers!), all done at a fraction of the cost of doing them in the States or Europe. The beauty and adventure of this place made me immensely proud to be half-Peruvian.
Our first day was spent getting situated in our hotel, checking out Huaraz, and visiting travel agencies to set up what would become four days of adventure:
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #1: LAGO 69
For our first official adventure day we decided we would take on a hike to prepare for the more difficult days ahead of us (after all, we had returned to pretty high altitudes in the Andes after spending a couple of weeks in much lower altitudes). I had heard of a beautiful lake, titled 'Lago 69' (I guess it hasn't deserved a real name yet), from the Australian couple that I met up in Vilcabamba, Ecuador. In order to get there, we had to take a 6:30 am bus through a town named Yungay, whose claim to fame was its incredibly sad fate surrounding an avalanche that buried the town in May 1970. The incident was caused by an earthquake in the area (which itself killed 50,000) and the subsequent avalanche killed almost all of Yungay's population of 18,000. Well, you take a right turn at Yungay and head straight between 2 gigantic, snow tipped mountains, passing bright blue lakes of drinking quality water (which is quite a feat for the ever-polluted Peru!).
The bus dropped the four of us off at a part of the road called Cebolla Pampa (Onion Flats). We climbed down to the trail on the side of the road and found ourselves in a pretty, green pasture filled with cattle and a beautiful little stream running through it. Unfortunately, I had forgotten the map that one of the tour guides had given us, but the trail was pretty clearly marked. We marched up through the pasture, taking a few moments to chase a little calf that was lingering there, chomping on grass. The trail led up the pasture to a rock face, whereupon the trail became a series of switch-backs, ascending an area sandwiched between two beautifully cascading waterfalls. As we had no map, we had no sense of how close we were to our destination. Finishing our first major uphill ascent for the hike, after taking many a break due to the high altitude (about 4300 meters - 13,000 ft), we were happy to see a little lake and believe that we had reached our destination. However, the trail continued past the lake, through another pasture until we found a sign pointing to Lago 69 up another steep rock and terrain face. Already exhausted, we collected our constitutions and proceeded up the next set of steep switch-backs, taking more and more breaks to regain our strength and enjoy the oxygen-challenged air. Finally, we approached the top of the ridge and through an opening in the rocks we could see the absolutely fantastic view of a bright turquoise lake, being fed by a tall cascade coming from the tall white-tipped mountain above it. Quite a sight!!
Feeling a mixture of exhaustion and the exhilaration of accomplishing our trek, we plopped ourselves down next to the blue (and freezing!) water to have a victory lunch consisting of bread rolls, tuna, and beef jerky. After lunch, the young'ns were so drunk on the beauty of the bright turquoise water that they felt that they absolutely had to jump in. As the lake was being fed directly from melting snow and ice, I decided to sit this part of the adventure out. The two girls and Ben stripped down to their underwear and attempted to wade in, only to find the water so cold that they began to feel a stinging and numbing reaction to their feet. Undeterred, they decided it would be better if they just jumped in and jumped out. Entering the water in full force, they turned right around and deserted the water. After bouncing around in the warm sun for a few minutes, they finally began to get feeling back in their bodies and quickly redressed. There's certain experiences that a decade more of life allows you to avoid. I might not be quite as adventurous in my 30's (I don't think I'd have jumped in the water in my 20's), but I was warm!!
After basking in the beautiful sight of the lake one last time, we headed back down the trail. We were hoping to catch a bus that was supposed to be passing by the rather remote road we had been left on at 3 pm, but we ended making it back to the road at around 3:30 pm. We started walking down the rough dirt road, thinking that we'd might as well get more exercise until the next bus came at 5pm. Lucky for us, a taxi driver came by and offered to take us down to Yungay. 45 minutes later, we caught a combi van that drove us back to Huaraz.
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #2: WALKING BY DUMPS AND DOGS
The next day we decided to take it easy and confirm our plans for our last few days in Huaraz. Ben and Saffron decided that they wanted to do some rock climbing for a few hours in the afternoon, so Rebecca and I opted to take another hike. The plan was to make our way up a valley and meet the rock climbers at some steam caves in a nearby town to relax in the natural sauna.
Originally, we were going to bike our way there, but instead Rebecca and I decided to walk, not knowing how long the walk would actually be. We started a little late, around 2 pm, and took the combi up to the town before where Saffron and Ben had to get off to walk off to the rock face. We started to walk down this dirt road that parallels the main road that runs through the valley. The most unfortunate thing about life in Peru is pollution. Everywhere there is a river, the local inhabitants have decided that it is an excellent place to leave their trash. The scents that emanate from these places are absolutely the worst thing I've ever inhaled. Much to our collective chagrin, our impromptu hike took us next to much of the local dumping ground.
We continued down this road, taking a right when we found the road we needed that would take us up into the hills. Unfortunately, the many houses that we passed had dogs that would constantly bark. It seemed as though, with each house that we passed, the dogs would get more ferocious. Finally, being confronted with 2 dogs that would not get out of our way, I, having remembered that you're not supposed to show them fear, had to pick up a large rock and threaten them with it. Dogs don't seem to like being confronted with large rocks, so they backed away.
We continued up this road, but it soon became clear that this path was much longer than we anticipated. We asked several locals along our way, but they said that it was 30 km to where we wanted to go!! For some reason, Rebecca was determined to do it. However, I was a bit concerned because of the dark clouds looming above and the fact that we had started to lose light behind the high mountains surrounding us. Finally, I convinced her to see reason and we flagged down a passing truck which took us back to the main road. We walked to the next town and, as luck would have it, just happened to pass by the rock face where Ben and Saffron were finishing their climb with their instructor.
Afterwards, we walked up a road and found the 'thermal caves'. While in the US we tend to leave places like this in their natural state, in Latin America they always seem to build enclosures or pools around their thermal caves or hot springs. We bought a ticket, switched into our swimsuits, and went into one of the cabins, which encloses an individual thermal cave. It was fantastic! We'd take turns sitting in the hottest area of the cave and then jumping out into the cold showers that they had installed into each cabin. By the time we left, we were really relaxed. We walked back to town and caught a combi back to Huaraz. We decided to take an easy night as the next day we'd be getting up early to go canyoning . . .
Cusco, Peru
Just a quick note of what I've been up to: just finished my first (and final - more about that some other time) month teaching English at the local language institute, my mother and aunt are in town from the States, and I should be returning in almost exactly one month.
I'm looking forward to getting home. Nine months is a long time to be away, especially if you are a New Yorker (as I found that they seemed to be the most homesick travelers I met on the road). I'm planning to come back, as originally scheduled, on the 31st of July. I'm going to have to race back to the East Coast for my friend Karl's wedding on August 8th in Maine. So, for all my Bay Area friends, I hope to see you in that small sliver of time that I'll have there, probably Aug 1-4.
I decided yesterday to go to the jungle with my mother and my aunt from the United States and we're leaving tomorrow morning for a trip to a pristine 'biosphere' to get eaten alive by mosquitoes and hopefully see some jungle life. I'll be gone until next Saturday, so if you don't hear from me in the next week, it's probably because I'm wrestling a jaguar.
I'll finish up my Huaraz trip details and get you caught up with my more recent adventures when I get back from the jungle, so be prepared for a more-active-than-usual blog in July. Until then, here's the first installment of my Huaraz adventures:
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HUARAZ: JEWEL OF THE ANDES (just to remind you this took place at the tail end of April)
After a hazy night heading south from Trujillo along the Peruvian coast, our bus took a sharp left heading up into the Central Andes region called the Cordillera Blanca (White Mountain Range), the highest and most scenic part of the Andes. We stumbled out of our bus at 6 am and the girls (Rebecca and Saffron) immediately befriend an elderly lady who said that she had a cheap place for us to stay. BIG MISTAKE: the place was a dump.
This scenario underscores an age gap that I felt generally exists between older travelers (I'm 32) and the younger ones (Rebecca and Saffron are 21 and Ben is only 19). When you are a really young traveller, you generally have no money and are trying to travel around South America on, say, $1000 for 3 months. Seasoned travelers will agree that this is possible, but you really have to reduce your spending rates. As these young kids haven't been out in the 'real world', their ability to make money for traveling is much lower. In contrast, while I certainly didn't stay in expensive hotels, I liked to stay in places that were at least comfortable. It's the difference between paying $6-8 a night and only wanting to pay $2-3 a night, but that creates a HUGE difference in quality. Needless to say, as I was traveling with a pack of young'ns, I went with the what the group wanted. The result was a place that had no electricity in the bathroom, no hot water, and beds with limited covering to protect you from the Andean cold. The owner had said that he was going to fix everything quickly, but the term 'quickly' in Latin America is loose concept. After a few days of discomfort, Ben and I moved out to more appropriate accommodations. I was happy.
Outside of my experience with our initial accommodations, Huaraz is quite an amazing place. It is situated within sight of 23 snow-capped peaks and the center of a more youth-oriented, adventurous traveling circle. Surprisingly, if you ask most people who have visited Peru about Huaraz, they've never heard of it. It's one of those jewels that you'll only go to if you've heard about it from someone else who's been there. That being said, if anyone out there plans a trip to some point in the future, I would HIGHLY recommend taking at least a week to explore Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca. It's best done while you're young or in good shape as the activities range from high altitude hikes (1 to 9 days!), mountain climbing, rock climbing, river rafting, canyoning (rappelling down waterfalls), and ice climbing (on glaciers!), all done at a fraction of the cost of doing them in the States or Europe. The beauty and adventure of this place made me immensely proud to be half-Peruvian.
Our first day was spent getting situated in our hotel, checking out Huaraz, and visiting travel agencies to set up what would become four days of adventure:
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #1: LAGO 69
For our first official adventure day we decided we would take on a hike to prepare for the more difficult days ahead of us (after all, we had returned to pretty high altitudes in the Andes after spending a couple of weeks in much lower altitudes). I had heard of a beautiful lake, titled 'Lago 69' (I guess it hasn't deserved a real name yet), from the Australian couple that I met up in Vilcabamba, Ecuador. In order to get there, we had to take a 6:30 am bus through a town named Yungay, whose claim to fame was its incredibly sad fate surrounding an avalanche that buried the town in May 1970. The incident was caused by an earthquake in the area (which itself killed 50,000) and the subsequent avalanche killed almost all of Yungay's population of 18,000. Well, you take a right turn at Yungay and head straight between 2 gigantic, snow tipped mountains, passing bright blue lakes of drinking quality water (which is quite a feat for the ever-polluted Peru!).
The bus dropped the four of us off at a part of the road called Cebolla Pampa (Onion Flats). We climbed down to the trail on the side of the road and found ourselves in a pretty, green pasture filled with cattle and a beautiful little stream running through it. Unfortunately, I had forgotten the map that one of the tour guides had given us, but the trail was pretty clearly marked. We marched up through the pasture, taking a few moments to chase a little calf that was lingering there, chomping on grass. The trail led up the pasture to a rock face, whereupon the trail became a series of switch-backs, ascending an area sandwiched between two beautifully cascading waterfalls. As we had no map, we had no sense of how close we were to our destination. Finishing our first major uphill ascent for the hike, after taking many a break due to the high altitude (about 4300 meters - 13,000 ft), we were happy to see a little lake and believe that we had reached our destination. However, the trail continued past the lake, through another pasture until we found a sign pointing to Lago 69 up another steep rock and terrain face. Already exhausted, we collected our constitutions and proceeded up the next set of steep switch-backs, taking more and more breaks to regain our strength and enjoy the oxygen-challenged air. Finally, we approached the top of the ridge and through an opening in the rocks we could see the absolutely fantastic view of a bright turquoise lake, being fed by a tall cascade coming from the tall white-tipped mountain above it. Quite a sight!!
Feeling a mixture of exhaustion and the exhilaration of accomplishing our trek, we plopped ourselves down next to the blue (and freezing!) water to have a victory lunch consisting of bread rolls, tuna, and beef jerky. After lunch, the young'ns were so drunk on the beauty of the bright turquoise water that they felt that they absolutely had to jump in. As the lake was being fed directly from melting snow and ice, I decided to sit this part of the adventure out. The two girls and Ben stripped down to their underwear and attempted to wade in, only to find the water so cold that they began to feel a stinging and numbing reaction to their feet. Undeterred, they decided it would be better if they just jumped in and jumped out. Entering the water in full force, they turned right around and deserted the water. After bouncing around in the warm sun for a few minutes, they finally began to get feeling back in their bodies and quickly redressed. There's certain experiences that a decade more of life allows you to avoid. I might not be quite as adventurous in my 30's (I don't think I'd have jumped in the water in my 20's), but I was warm!!
After basking in the beautiful sight of the lake one last time, we headed back down the trail. We were hoping to catch a bus that was supposed to be passing by the rather remote road we had been left on at 3 pm, but we ended making it back to the road at around 3:30 pm. We started walking down the rough dirt road, thinking that we'd might as well get more exercise until the next bus came at 5pm. Lucky for us, a taxi driver came by and offered to take us down to Yungay. 45 minutes later, we caught a combi van that drove us back to Huaraz.
HUARAZ ADVENTURE #2: WALKING BY DUMPS AND DOGS
The next day we decided to take it easy and confirm our plans for our last few days in Huaraz. Ben and Saffron decided that they wanted to do some rock climbing for a few hours in the afternoon, so Rebecca and I opted to take another hike. The plan was to make our way up a valley and meet the rock climbers at some steam caves in a nearby town to relax in the natural sauna.
Originally, we were going to bike our way there, but instead Rebecca and I decided to walk, not knowing how long the walk would actually be. We started a little late, around 2 pm, and took the combi up to the town before where Saffron and Ben had to get off to walk off to the rock face. We started to walk down this dirt road that parallels the main road that runs through the valley. The most unfortunate thing about life in Peru is pollution. Everywhere there is a river, the local inhabitants have decided that it is an excellent place to leave their trash. The scents that emanate from these places are absolutely the worst thing I've ever inhaled. Much to our collective chagrin, our impromptu hike took us next to much of the local dumping ground.
We continued down this road, taking a right when we found the road we needed that would take us up into the hills. Unfortunately, the many houses that we passed had dogs that would constantly bark. It seemed as though, with each house that we passed, the dogs would get more ferocious. Finally, being confronted with 2 dogs that would not get out of our way, I, having remembered that you're not supposed to show them fear, had to pick up a large rock and threaten them with it. Dogs don't seem to like being confronted with large rocks, so they backed away.
We continued up this road, but it soon became clear that this path was much longer than we anticipated. We asked several locals along our way, but they said that it was 30 km to where we wanted to go!! For some reason, Rebecca was determined to do it. However, I was a bit concerned because of the dark clouds looming above and the fact that we had started to lose light behind the high mountains surrounding us. Finally, I convinced her to see reason and we flagged down a passing truck which took us back to the main road. We walked to the next town and, as luck would have it, just happened to pass by the rock face where Ben and Saffron were finishing their climb with their instructor.
Afterwards, we walked up a road and found the 'thermal caves'. While in the US we tend to leave places like this in their natural state, in Latin America they always seem to build enclosures or pools around their thermal caves or hot springs. We bought a ticket, switched into our swimsuits, and went into one of the cabins, which encloses an individual thermal cave. It was fantastic! We'd take turns sitting in the hottest area of the cave and then jumping out into the cold showers that they had installed into each cabin. By the time we left, we were really relaxed. We walked back to town and caught a combi back to Huaraz. We decided to take an easy night as the next day we'd be getting up early to go canyoning . . .
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
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.
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.