Victory Hair

Is very wet after a rainy day at Machu Picchu.

Dancing!!

After making friends with the three slightly-past-middle-age Koreans I met on the bus, they invited me to dinner with them one night and to a dance show at the cultural center the next. It was an almost nonstop hour of fast paced music and dance, complete with informative introductions, audience participation, and bright, elaborate costumes. Here are some blurry pictures:

Things I learned on this occasion:

1. I must have one of these high-waisted full skirts with flirty petticoats, ahora.
2. Dancers have the best legs.
3. I find men attractive when they are able to dance well, even when they're dressed as fluffy, rainbow colored llamas with ornately decorated thigh-high leather boots. If there are any psychological implications to this, I don't want to know.

Kitten Cuddle Puddle

I'm melting!

Cusco: Some Photos

I'm loving Cusco so far: lovely stone-paved streets, colonial architecture mixed with Incan feats in stone fitting, and lots of delicious things to be eaten.

Roof repairs waiting to be done.

Lovely church at San Blas.

I love blue and beige together. Looks like there are lots of old places like this being refurbished.

More blue.

Carmen Alto, the lovely little street on which my hostel is situated.

The wall with the famed 12 cornered stone.

There it is!

View of an old Incan ceremonial site with colonial convent built on top.

The Longest Bus Ride

Ready to leave the bright lights and movie theaters of Lima behind, I cheerfully boarded my Cusco-bound bus at 5:30 in the afternoon this last Wednesday. What luck! The seat next to me would be empty until we reached Ica, a few hours away. I settled in for the 17-hour ride with a belly full of ceviche and a bag full of yarn to keep me entertained.

At Ica, an older gentleman got on and sat next to me, and he was apparently meeting two other people already on the bus. As they spoke across the aisles, I thought I heard some familiar words, but not in English or Spanish. I pulled out my headphones and lo! They were Koreans! Another sign of good things to come.

Fast forward to about 5am. In a haze of sleep I noticed the bus had stopped. I rolled over and forgot about it until about an hour later, when light began creeping in through the cracks in the curtains. We were still stopped. Odd. I lay there wondering what had gone wrong, and pretty soon people around me began wondering out loud the same thing. Eventually the bus attendant came over and said something to the passangers in front of me. All I caught were the words "closed," "open at 11," and "no food." Oh dear. Eventually enough people were awake and grumbling that she made an announcement to the whole bus. This time I caught that we weren't leaving until 11 and to go out and get food. After asking her to repeat herself a few more times I finally understood that the roads were closed for a car race, and after a breakfast of chicken soup I joined the rest of the town at the road to watch the racers go by.

People begin filling the sidewalks.

More people.

Here one comes!

Here it is!!

Oh, it's slowed down now to go over a speed bump.

All in all, it was another experience. It never got super thrilling as none of the cars passed at the same time, so the most entertaining thing for me was seeing which ones slowed for the speed bump and which ones simply kept going and caught some air over it. It ended slightly before 11 and we filed back on the bus for an uneventful rest of the ride.

My Korean seatmate, fast asleep after an exciting morning.

Two nights ago, I was having a cup of tea in a gringo cafe on the main plaza here in Cusco, when I heard the noises of car engines, crowds, and a brass band warming up. I looked out the window to see that the plaza had been taken over by the same car racers as before! Parked, this time, for some kind of show.

There they are.

People love them!

The PetroPeru balloon creatures have come out to play.

I don't think a celebration here in Peru would be complete without fireworks.

The Upside to Falling Down

When you buy rainbow colored fake Tom's shoes for $8, sometimes they don't have the best traction. And when you walk on centuries-old paving stones worn smooth and slick by millions of pairs of feet, you should be careful. I fell down today. I think I did it with a fair amount of grace and managed to walk away with just one tiny scrape on my knee. So I treated myself to a chocolate caliente. And it was muy rico.

Still working on the self portraiture.

Si, por favor!

Sunset on Lima

First Encounters

I'm a little bit ashamed to admit that this cockroach, barely even a tiny fraction of my own size, has kept me awake for the last three hours. At around 2am, I heard a scratchy rustling noise that I decided had beem the power cord on my lamp slipping down the wall and tried to go to sleep. A short while later, I heard a similar rustling noise and hoped it might be something outside. When I raised my head to hear better, it stopped. Not a good sign.

A few minutes later, I heard the noise again. I knew it had to be in my room, and it sounded scarily close. I sat up and switched on the lamp, only to discover the tail end of a huge cockroach scurrying back out of sight behind the nightstand. Ooh, my skin is crawling just thinking about it, and we're still only about thirty minutes in. After quickly and nervously removing all my things from the top of the nightstand, I sat watching it intently. The cockroach ventured out twice more, creeping out from the shadows before being scared off by my movement. It was a terrifying time. Eventually I was able to look away long enough to play with internet on my phone and spent the next hour and a half or so glancing up from various news articles/blog posts to check on the roach's possible presence.

Eventually I talked myself into thinking I could coexist with it; what more could it do to me than give a few heebie jeebies and maybe a bacterium or two? So I laid back down and thought about turning off the light. I wasn't quite ready for that step, and thank goodness, because next thing I know (thirty minutes later), I hear that rustling sound again. I look over the edge of the bed to see it waiting at the corner of the stand, halfway hidden against the wall. Yeah, I sure wasn't going to sleep as long as it was there. I managed to reach my arm out and push the nightstand into the wall, pinning the cockroach just long enough to grab a sneaker and smash it to hell.

Now that it's dead and the adrenaline of the kill has petered out of my system, I feel a little bad for killing it. I guess that's my burden to bear now, along with this drowsy day ahead of me. Here's hoping that I don't see many more of these guys in the next few weeks.

Vacation from Vacation

Because sometimes being on vacation just feels like work (or rather, because I am staying with people who actually work), I decided to treat myself to a week at the beach with Nina and Joe. We left chilly Huaraz early last Sunday morning and arrived about 12 hours later in the city of Trujillo and its satellite of Huanchaco on Peru's northern coast. It was already dark but warm enough for sandals, and with some local beers and a good dinner we got ourselves all fired up for the beach the next day.

The beach, conveniently located right outside our front door, was lovely. Soft sand and a cool breeze made it easy to while away the hours just sitting in the sun, reading, listening to music, and watching what Peruvians like to do on vacation. Don't even get me started on the fresh seafood ready for the taking at any spot along the water!

Everything you could possibly need at the beach will find its way to you sooner or later.

Pelican!!

New best friend!!

A beautiful mural outside a hostel. Go hippie gringos!

Silhouettes of reed fishing boats that have been used locally since at least the 11th century. Now used to show tourists a good time.

One of my favorite beach activities: sunset beers.

Trujillo is home to some massive ruins dating from the Chimu people of the 9th-15th centuries. We took a day away from the beach to visit Chan Chan, the site of the empire's capital, which was massive, about 20 square km. Unfortunately flooding in the last few decades has left a lot of the structures looking more like vaguely wall-shaped piles of sand, but the sheer size of the whole place was still quite impressive. From there we went to Huaca de la Luna Temple of th Moon), one of two Chimu ceremonial structures that are currently being excavated. A guided tour (in English!) gave us some history on the site and the meanings behind the adornments archaeologists are still digging out.

Restorations of some labyrinthine ceremonial chambers at Chan Chan.

A view of Huaca del Sol from the entrance to Huaca de la Luna

Wall decoration at Huaca de la Luna with original color that's been preserved by being covered in dry sand.

After a few quiet days at the beach and some warm nights full of live music, including a singalong to "What's up" by the Four Non Blondes, we left our Huanchaco for a small town two hours north called Pacasmayo. Described by Lonely Planet as both "lively" and "forgotten," it turned out to be precisely that. There were plenty of Peruvian vacationers and locals alike enjoying the beach and the many shops and restaurants that stayed open well into the night, and the whole town had a cheerful and friendly atmosphere. The "forgotten" part came with the many run down 19th century colonial buildings dotting the waterfront and the overall lack of gringo tourists. The beach here was calmer and smaller than Huanchaco, with some delightful churros to be had along the boardwalk.

We came to Pacasmayo and found Jesus.

Some colorful fishing boats.

Sunset over the waterfront.

My first Inca Kola. Delicious!

While staying in Pacasmayo, we took a day trip further north to the city of Chiclayo, a major hub in for trade routes since the first Jesuit missionaries settled there, and home to a huge market where anything and everything imaginable can be found. We spend most of our day at the market, and I could have happily visited it every day for weeks. Taking up several square blocks, the market housed stalls selling everything from taxidermied animals and herbal remedies (part of Chiclayo's abundance in "witch doctors") to rolls of linoleum flooring, including food, clothing, livestock, local handicrafts, and electronics.

Joe stops for a haircut in one of the many barbers offering their services alongside stalls of fresh produce.

We spent our last night of vacation back in Huanchaco so we could visit a peña, a dinner/dancing extravaganza mostly populated with middle-aged couples full of local pride and the need to shake it. The live music started at 11pm and went well into the wee hours, and the dance floor was packed for almost every song. The only two times nobody went out were when the band played some sort of American swing medley and when they played an hilarious rendition of "Like a Virgin". The evening was broken up with a professional dance performance of the marinera, Trujillo's own dance. We befriended a couple of sisters who made sure we knew what was going on at all times and who were super excited to share their hometown pride with us. After dancing our hearts out and then sleeping until noon, we got in one last beach afternoon and caught the overnight bus back to Huaraz.

All in all, it was a very relaxing break from an already relaxed trip here in Peru. I've always loved the ocean, and the comfort and joy of being in a beach town will never miss. With every day I spend here I love Peru more and more, and am already plotting a return some time in the near (I hope) future.

A pretty accurate summary of the week.

The Reluctant Adventurer tackles the Cordillera Blancas (and very nearly wins)

I'd been in Huaraz for just about a week and a half when Joe, Nina, and I decide to try out one of Lonely Planet's recommended "starter" hikes to a mountain lake called Churrup in one of the many peaks surrounding the town. Huaraz is already at almost 10,000 feet elevation, which takes a bit of getting used to for someone who grew up at sea level (I don't think living at the top of Capitol Hill counts for elevation preparedness). Our combi, a local form of public transport that's something like a 15-seat van, took us up into the mountains about another 500 feet or so to a hamlet called Llupa, from which we began our walk up to the trail.

I could already feel the slight increase in elevation so this easy beginning presented a challenging preview for the rest of the day. We made our way slowly up the hill; the one-lane dirt road eventually turned into a long and rocky set of steps which leveled out onto a narrow, muddy dirt track covered in various animal prints and droppings and which was miraculously flat for the most part. We reached the trailhead about an hour and a half after leaving the combi, and after a quick break for water and some electrolyte gummies we began the climb in earnest.

And I do mean climb. Had the blazers of this trail never heard of a switchback? The rocky path cut straight up the unforgiving ridge leading to the lake, and every time the trail seemed to level off ahead, we would reach the plateau only to be faced with another steep climb.

I was clearly unprepared.

The trail ahead and the steep side of the mountain seemed to go on forever. We- I- needed frequent breaks, and with every few steps I could feel my feet dragging again as my lungs struggled to fill themselves with as much of the cold thin air as they could. It was challenging. At several points I found myself chanting like the Little Blue Engine That Could, "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I. Think. I. Fucking. Can." Which seemed to help, if only by giving me something to focus on other than feeling like my head my pop off and float up into the heavens and the fact that I still couldn't see the end to the hike coming anytime soon.

Progress.

Eventually the steep ridge did become a slightly less steep path on the side of the mountain, and we followed it until, after meeting a small stream, it turned into more of a choose-your-own-adventure scramble.

Obstacles.

After about a hundred yards or so of picking our way through rocks and over boulders, we broke for lunch. We'd passed a hiker coming back down who told us the trail would level off and meet the lake soon, so we set off again with high hopes of meeting our goal. There was something like a trail again, but it didn't look like it was getting any less sleep any time soon, and now the clouds and rain were coming in. I don't know how Joe and Nina were feeling, though they seemed in better shape than I was; my feet were heavy and my head was empty, and I wasn't sure I'd ever have enough air again. This hike was without a doubt one of the most challenging things I've ever tried, and I decided at this point that I wanted to live to see another one someday, so I threw in my towel.

Where we turned around. Joe and Nina's satellite tracking device tells us we were at about 14,500 feet. About a 4000 foot elevation gain in two hours.

Joe and Nina were kind enough not to abandon me, though I'm going to assume they were struggling just as much as I was and were glad to have the excuse. The descent was much much quicker than the climb, and as we got back down the mountain I quickly felt as though life would easily go on again. All I had to worry about the next day were sore quads, and I was left with a feeling of satisfaction that at least I'd made it as high as Mt. Rainier, and the knowledge that probably everything else I try in life from now on will be a piece of cake.