Inti Raymi

En English

Inti Raymi

I was told, by the people of Cuzco, that the festival of Inti Raymi is the most incredible festival in the world, including all of the festivals I have seen. I was really excited to have the opportunity to see the festival and after a month of waiting, I was ready to experience the richness of this culture. Nevertheless, the day was not quite how I expected it to be.

Claus, Charlotte, and I left for the festival on Sacsaywaman at around nine in the morning. Fortunately, we met my taxi friend, Billy, who graciously took us up to the site for an expensive price (Charlotte had sprained her ankle and therefore we decided it was best to take a taxi, although she’s pretty dang tough). Finally, after Billy dropped us off at the site, we found a place to sit and watch the festival.

Claus and I passed some time (the festival starts during the afternoon) by throwing a frisbee. He taught me quite a bit about the various throws that you use in the game. Later, we returned to our site where we would experience the “richness” of Inti Raymi.

Everything was going well for a while, but nonetheless, the peace ended suddenly when the festival began.

I had not seen much of the Latin America stereotypical “machismo”, that is, until I participated in the festivals of Inti Raymi. When the program started, there were some guys who decided that they were not going to sit down. The people in the back became angry upon seeing the men who did not want to sit down. The yelling began and the richness of the festival disappeared.

It was like an impressive telanovela, complete with fights between couples en which the woman became angry upon seeing her love with her best friend. And, of course, there were the macho gentlemen and the angry crowd. Finally, the people, grown tired of the machismo, began to throw various items, including empty bottles, fruit, and small rocks… The disturbances even included a father seated behind us, who did not want to sit down despite the shouts of his children. Suddenly, he was hit in the back with something and turned around with a large rock in his hand. His daughter detained him from throwing the rock and began crying and pleading him to sit down. Finally, he gave in.

From this point, the people from below, exhausted of the hostility of the crowd, tried to leave while the teens from above tried to climb down to the area below, creating a massive mess.

Finally, the mess culminated with the fainting of an older gentleman, who appeared to be having a hard attack. I jumped up to my feet in order to help the man. God bless the Peruvian people, because there were a lot of people trying to help the man, although they had no idea of what they were doing. They tried to lift the man to his feet when he couldn’t stand, they tried to put alcohol in his nose to help him breathe, and one youth even offered to do CPR, having learned it probably from watching telenovelas, and despite the fact that the older gentleman was conscious.

I told them I was a doctor to gain some authority over the situation, but that didn’t work. Finally, a Peruvian woman and I managed to lay the man down and help him breathe again. It appeared that he had fainted from the heat of the sun.

After helping the man, we decided to leave in order to recover from the day´s events. With all of the fights, encounters, and telenovelas, the richness and magic of Peru died that day.

En Español

Inti Raymi

Me dijo, la gente de Cusco, que la fiesta de Inti Raymi es la fiesta más increíble del mundo, incluso todas las fiestas que yo había visto. Estaba muy emocionado tener la oportunidad de verla y después de un mes pasado esperándola, estaba listo experimentar la riqueza de esta cultura. Sin embargo, me pasó el día en una manera no esperada…

Claus, Charlotte y yo salimos para la fiesta en Sacsaywaman a las nueve de la mañana. Por casualidad, reunimos con mi compañero de taxi, Billy, quien nos llevó al sitio por un precio caro (Charlotte le había torcido el tobillo y por eso, decidimos que sería mejor no caminar al sitio, aunque ella es una chica fuerte). Finalmente, después de que Billy nos había dejados en el sitio, encontramos un sitio buenísimo para ver la fiesta y el programa.

Claus y yo pasamos el tiempo (la fiesta no va a comenzar hasta la una de la tarde) por tirar un frisbee. El me enseño muchísimo sobre los varios tiros que se puede utilizar. Luego regresamos a nuestro sitio, donde experimentaríamos la “riqueza” de Inti Raymi.

Todo nos pasó bien, pero, sin embargo, la paz terminó de repente cuando la fiesta comenzó.

Yo no había visto mucho del “machísimo” estereotípico de Latino América, pues, hasta participar en las fiestas de Inti Raymi. Al empezar el programa, había algunos hombres que decidieron que no iban a sentarse. La gente en el fondo del cerro se puso enojada al ver que los varones que no querían sentarse. Los gritos empezaron y la riqueza de la fiesta desapareció.

Me parece como una telenovela impresionante, completo con peleas entre novios en las que la mujer se puso enojado al ver su amor con su mejor amiga. Y, por supuesto, había los varones machos y la turba enojada. Finalmente, la gente, harta del machísimo, empezó a echar y lanzar varias cosas, incluyendo botellas vacías, fruta y piedras pequeñas. Los disturbios incluso aún un padre, sentado atrás de nosotros, que no quería sentarse a pesar de los gritos de sus niños. De repente, se lo pegó en la espalda una botella y él le dio una vuelta, con una piedra en su mano. Su niña lo dejo de lanzar la piedra y echó a llorar, pidiendo que su padre se sentara. Finalmente, se rindió.

Desde eso suceso, la gente desde abajo, rendida de la hostilidad de la muchedumbre, quiso salir mientras los jóvenes desde arriba intentaron bajar a las partes abajas, creando un lío macizo.

Finalmente, la traba culminó con el desmayo de un hombre de la tercera edad, quien parecía tener un infarto. Inmediatamente me puse de pie de un salto para ayudarle. Bendita sean los peruanos porque había mucha gente tratando de ayudarle, aunque no tenía ni idea de lo que necesitaba el hombre. Intentaron levantarle al hombre; trataron de darle alcohol por la nariz para ayudarle a respirar; y había un joven quien ofreció hacer compresiones, (haber aprenderlo a través verlo en los telenovelas), y a pesar del hecho que el hombre de la tercera edad todavía tenía consciencia.

Les dijo a los peruanos que era médico para ganar un poco de autoridad, pero me sirvió a nada. Por fin, una mujer peruana y yo logramos echarlo a la tierra y ayudarle a respirar de nuevo. Parecía que él se había desmayado debido al calor del sol.

Después de ayudar al hombre, decidimos bajar de Sacsayhuaman para recuperarnos del día. Con todas las peleas, los encuentros y las telenovelas, la riqueza y la magia del Perú se murió aquel día.

Machupicchu...

English
Check out my photos by following this link: http://picasaweb.google.com/samathern

The time has arrived... In this edition of The Cusqueñan Traveler, I am going to tell you about my encoutner with the sacred Machupicchu--a marvel of the world left by the Incas.

I went to the sacred place accompanied by my holy friend, Rachel. The trip started at the breaking of dawn on the 20th of June. The reason for the early wake up and travel (we departed at approximately three in the morning) was that there existed the possibility of a strike in Cuzco. The war in the Jungle between the Amazonian Tribes and the Peruvian government has resulted in many roadblocks and other such events. Nonetheless, we departed very early in order to arrive at Aguas Calientes at seven in the morning.

Upon arriving in the beautiful city of Aguas Calientes, we slept for three hours to try and recuperate. Later we left to see the city of Aguas Calientes, which had not existed some 20 years earlier according to a man we had met on the train ride. It is not economically advisable to live in Aguas Calientes since they created the city for toursits.

What really fascinated me was the willingness and friendship of the people of Aguas Calientes, in particular, of the venders. For example, I asked a lady if it would be possible to buy some sunglasses in the city and she asked me to wait for a moment. After a few minutes, she returned with some sunglasses. She had ran through the town to find me some sunglasses and afterwards sold them to me, probably charging me a higher rate, but it surprised me that she had searched the entired town to find what I needed. The same thing happened again when I asked about buying an extra battery for my camera.

Putucusi
Our friends arrived a few hours after Rachel and I and found us (due to the small size of the town) eating in a restaurant. We chatted for a bit and then decided to climb Putucusi, which lies in front of Machupicchu. The entrance to the trail for Putucusi is located just outside of the town.

The climb to the peak of Putucusi was a lot more than we had anticipated. Our friends, Emily and Ana, didn´t manage to accompany us to the peak. Rachel and I did have the advantage of the originating from states with high altitudes and therefore the climb wasn’t too difficult. However, the climb was still incredibly trying. We had not anticipated climbing such a steep trail and we left at around 15:30 hours thinking the trail would be a piece of cake.
However, after a few stairs, we arrived at the first ladder made of wood, the kind that you would use to scale a castle during the Middle Ages. And when I say that it is a ladder, what I really mean is that this is not your typical ladder. It stretches over 30 meters (100 + feet) high. After climbing the first ladder, we discovered that four more remained…

Finally, after one hour, and after listening to the constant comments of Peruvians, who kept telling us that only 20 minutes remained until reaching the peak (liars—they told us the same thing every 20 minutes…), we managed to reach the top of the mountain.

I cannot find one word, not in English nor in Spanish that I could utilize in order to describe the majesty of the view from the peak of that sacred place. It was incredible… On the other side of the valley, Machupicchu could be seen in all of its glory.

The sun began to set and only a few minutes remained in order to drink in the sublimity of that site. Rachel and I took the time to perform a native ritual to pray for every person, especially those who suffer in our lives. I think that there exists nothing as triumphant as overcoming the mortal struggle that carries you to the precipices and edges of your corporal limitations. I will not forget the last minutes of strolling, of forcing myself to take one more step in the direction of the treasure. At the end, the richness of seeing the most beautiful site that I have ever seen was spectacular and worth every second…We left that place and began to climb down the mountain. It only took 20 minutes to reach the valley. We slept well that night, that eve of our visit to Machupicchu.

Machupicchu—The most sacred site in the world
The following morning, we rose at three in the morning (for the second day in a row) in order to wait in line for the buses. Rachel, Emily, Ana, and I climbed onto the first bus that left for Machupicchu. The bus ride took some 20 minutes. Despite some problems at the entrance of Machupicchu (they wouldn’t allow me to bring in my backpack because it was too big), I managed to obtain a ticket to climb Wyanapicchu. I know what you are thinking… I am crazy. I had just climbed Putucusi the previous day. Nonetheless, I climbed it by myself that morning.

First, though, I watched the sunrise on Machupicchu from behind the mountains. I have never seen something quite impressive. It was very cold but when the sun rose and broke over the peak of the mountains the warmth from the sun’s rays covered my body. With that energy, I was able to climb Wyanapicchu.

The trek to Wyanapicchu was incredible, but it tired me out greatly. I continued beyond the peak and directed myself to the Temple of the Moon. I would love to paint a picture of the majesty of the excursion, but I still remain speechless.

The day was incredible: Rachel met a woman with a beautiful soul and who had a lot of spirit. I became familiar with nature and I experienced the incredible and the sacredness of Machupicchu. I think that I was taught a lot by that sacred place. I cannot for the day that I return to that sacred terrain again.

En Español
Ver mis fotos por hacer clíc aquí: http://picasaweb.google.com/samathern

El tiempo ha llegado... En esta edición del The Cusqueñan Traveler voy a contarles sobre el encuentro con la sagrada Machupicchu--una maravilla del mundo dejado por los Inkas...

Fui al sitio sagrado acompañado por mi amiga santa, Raquel. Se comenzó el viaje a la madrugaba del 20 de Junio. La razón de viajar tan temprano (nos embarcamos al promediar 03:00 horas de la mañana) fue que era posible que no iba a ser viajes a Ollantaytambo para tomar el tren a Aguas Calientes debido a un paro (una huelga) en la ciudad de Cusco. La guerra en la selva entre las tribus amazónicos y el gobierno había resultado en muchos bloqueos de carretaras y otros sucesos similares. Sin embargo, nos embarcamos muy temprano para llegar a Aguas Calientes a las siete de la mañana.

Al llegar a la ciudad bella de Aguas Calientes dormimos por tres horas para recuperarnos un poco, y después salimos para ver la ciudad, la cual no se había existido hace 20 años según lo que contó un hombre que hubimos conocido durante el camino por tren. No es tan económico vivir en esa ciudad puesto que se creó la ciudad para los turistas.

Lo que me fascinaba muchísimo fue la simpatía y la voluntad de la gente de Aguas Calientes, particularmente de los vendores. Por ejemplo, le pregunté a una mujer si fuera posible comprar gafas de sol y ella me pidió que yo esperara un ratito. Después de unos minutos, la mujer regresó con unas gafas de sol. Ella había dado un paseo por la aldea para encontrar gafas de sol. Estoy seguro que me cobró ella un poco más pero me soprendió muchísimo que había corrido por toda la ciudad para encontrar lo que necesitaba. Lo mismo me pasó otra vez cuando busque otra batería extra para mi cámera.

Putucusi
Nuestras amigas llegaron unas horas después de nosotros. Debido al tamaño de la ciudad, nos encontraron en un restaurante. Charlamos por un ratito y después, decidimos a ir a subir a la montaña de Putucusi, la cual yace frente de Machupicchu. Se encuentra la entrada de la excursión a la cima de la montaña gigantesca justo afuera de la ciudad.

La subida a la cima de Putucusi fue más que habíamos anticipado. Nuestras amigas, Emily y Ana, no pudieron acompañarnos a la cima. Raquel y yo tuvimos la ventaja de ser de estados con alturas grandes y por eso, no fue tan difícil la subida. No obstante, la subida era durísima. No habíamos anticipado subir un camino tan empinado y salimos a las quince y medio horas pensado que sería papaya.

Sin embargo, después de unas escaleras, llegamos a la primera escalera era de madera y del estilo que se usa para subir al techo de una casa. Cuando les digo que es una escalera, lo que les digo es que no es una escalera típica. Se estima de 30 metros de altura hasta alcanzar su fin. Después de subir la primera escalera, nos damos cuenta de que nos faltaron cuatro más.

Finalmente, después de una hora, y después de escuchar los comentos constantes de los peruanos, quines siguían diciéndonos que sólo nos faltaban 20 minutos hasta alcanzar la cima de Putucusi (mentirosos--nos dijeron la misma cosa cada 20 minutos), logramos alcanzar a la cima de la montaña...

No tengo ni una palabra, ni en inglés ni en esapañol, que podría utilizar para describirles la majestuosidad de la vista desde la cima de aquella lugar sagrado. Era increíble... Al otro lado del valle, se pudo ver Machupicchu en su gloría entera.

El sol se echó a ponerse y sólo nos faltaron unos minutitos para ver y tomar la sublimidad de aquello sitio. Raquel y yo tomó el tiempo para hacer un ritual nativo para rezar para cada persona, especialmente los que sufren en nuestras vidas. Creo que no existe nada más triunfal que vencer a una refriega mortal que te lleva a los precipicios y a las fronteras de tus límites corporales. No me olvidaré los últimos minutos de andar, de esforzarme a dar un paso más en la dirección del tesoro espiritual. Al fin, la riqueza de ver el sitio más bello que jamás yo había visto, era espectacular y valía cada pena...

Salimos del lugar y nos echamos a bajar de la montaña. Sólo pasamos veinte minutos para terminar la baja. Huelga decir, dormimos bien aquella noche, la víspera de visitar a Machupicchu.

Machupicchu--El sitio más sagrado del mundo

La siguiente mañana, nos levantamos a las tres a punto (para el segundo día seguido) para esperar en la línea de los autobuses. Raquel, Emily, Ana y yo subimos al primer autobús que salió para Machupicchu. El paseo por autobús tomó unos veinte minutos. A partir de algunos problemas al entrar a Machupicchu (no me permitieron llevar mi mochilla en el sitio a causo de que era demasiado grande), logré conseguir un boleto para subir Wyanapicchu. Yo sé lo que están pensando. Estoy loco. He acabado de subir a Putucusi el previo día... Sin embargo, lo subí aquella montaña por mí mismo.

Primero, sin embargo, miré el amanecer del sol desde atrás de las montañas. Nunca he visto algo tan impresionante. Hacía mucho frío pero cuando el sol subió detrás de las montañas el calor de sus rayos me cubrían totalmente. Con esa energía yo pude subir a Wyanapicchu...

El paseo de Wayanpicchu era increíble, pero me cansó muchísimo. Sigue más allá de la cima de Wyanapicchu me dirigí a la templa de la luna también. Me gustaría pintar la majestuosidad de la excursión, pero todavía quedo sin palabras.

El día fue increíble. Raquel conoció a una mujer bella en su alma, quien tenía mucho temple. Yo me hice conocer la naturaleza y experimenté lo increíble y lo sagrado de Machupicchu. Creo que me enseño muchísimo aquello lugar sagrado. No puedo esperar el día cuando yo vuelva a ver aquella tierra santa de nuevo...

Corpus Cristi

There are few events that could be animated through the media of words. This includes the religious event of Corpus Cristi, specifically the one held in Cusco, which is incredibly profound, mixing the traditional views of the Incas with the strict, conservative and catholic views of those who conquered them. On the eve of Corpus Cristi fifteen saints are carried around the Plaza de Armas and end their journey inside the large cathedral. There the saints remain until the following day when the festival begins.

Claus, Charlotte, Katie, and I met up early on the morning of Thursday, June 12. School was canceled for the festivities of Corpus Cristi because of the large numbers of Catholics who habitate Peru. What I found the most amazing was just how devout these Catholics are. The synthesis of Catholicism and the Incan religious tones has resulted in a Catholicism vastly more profound than one could imagine.

At approximately 10AM, mass started in front of the cathedral, where all 15 saints surrounded the area where the altar remained. There were a plethora of nuns, priests, bishops, and government officials presiding at the mass, and even one Archbishop (I think) who came to Cuzco to offer the mass.

I have not attended mass in a while, but I must say that this has definitely been the most rich experience of all religous services I have attended. It was very formal, which usually means that the mass parts would be sung in Latin. However, the mass parts and some of the songs, potentially half of them, were in Quechua--the native language of the Incas.

After the mass ended, and after a rather disorganized communion, the people began carrying the blessed sacrament around the Plaza de Armas, while many people--tourists and citizens the same--sat and watched. We left to take part in some of the traditional food of Corpus Cristi, while the men and boys prepared to carry the saints around the plaza. The saints would be carried around, and by carried, I mean about 20 boys/young men would carry around the giant and heavily adorned saints while dancing and swaying back and forth with the statue, until finally ending up in the large cathedral where the saints remain for seven days. I can't imagine a more fun job than dancing with a one ton statue on your shoulders...

Now for the food... They call it Chiri uchu, which consists in seawead, a special vegetable bread, guinea pig, chicken, fish eggs, some special sausage, roasted Incan corn (the kernels of which are large enough to choke a whale, and I am not kidding), and some sort of beef. All of this is served on a plate, without utensils, and therfore eaten by hand. The dish is best tasted if you take a little bit of everything and mix it together in one bite, however, this is almost impossible to accomplish with a heaping plate of food. My favorite part of the festival was the large sign which reads "Welcome to the Gastronomic Festival of Chiriuchu" (Peruvians are so clever!)

After partaking in the "gastronomic event", we proceded to a bar and had some dessert to wash everything down. On the way to the bar we watched as the festival continued in the Plaza de Armas. The most interesting and consequently puzzling event that I have witnessed radiated from the incredible respect people possessed for the plants and the grass in the plaza. Thousands and thousands of people packed every corner and inch, while not a single person was sitting, standing, or walking in the grass. It was a demonstration of incredible respect for the beauty of the beloved plaza.

I can't say that the day ended well. Charlotte, Katie, and I tried a Bailey's shake at the bar, which consists of banana, strawberry, vodka, Kahlua's, Bailey's and ice cream. It ended up being waste of 20 sL (about 7 dollars). After this, we went to Molino, which is referred to as the "black market" by the Peruvians because they sell tons of American and European goods for cheap, as well as food from the Cuzco region. It is very possible that the stuff you buy at Molino's was probably stolen or was found in the trash.

The people working at Molino's on the day of Corpus Cristi were incredibly rude, and didn't want to bargain with us at all. We were looking for Bailey's and Kahlua for cheap, as well as a game of Risk that Claus wanted to play. We bought a game of Risk but left to find Bailey's at a lower price. Long story short, we ended buying Bailey's at a more expensive price and found out that our Risk game was a rip-off. However, the Bailey's shakes we made were quite delicious...

The whole day was very interesting to say the least... More than 300,000 people wandering the streets to watch 15 saints, dressed partially in the traditional Catholic-Saint style and partially in the traditional Incan vesitments. And I can't imagine how many guinea pigs died for the cause...

Interesting times in Cuzco / Lo interesante de Cusco

I am not going to write in Spanish for a few blog entries in order to conserve some time. I will continue writing in both Spanish and English after adjust to my new schedule, which includes working in the aftertnoons at a clinic. There will be more on this story soon! Sorry for the delay in updating my blog! Enjoy the following stories!

English

Guinea Pig for 20?

Finally, the day has come... That's right, the day that you have all been waiting to read about--the day I ate guinea pig. Last week, a group of us met up, around 20 of us from the school, in the Plaza de Armas, which is the central plaza and main meeting point in Cuzco. We found ourselves a nice restaurant and ordered one guinea pig to share between 20 people. I don't know if you have seen a guinea pig lately, but they aren't really made of much substance. The look on the waiters' faces as we ordered a guinea pig, which cost s/.50 (50 soles or around $17) to share between a table of 20 people was pretty priceless. I spoke to them in Spanish and said that if it were a problem, we could leave but they wanted us to stay. They just didn't understand how we would get full off one guinea pig. So, some people ordered some drinks to satisfy the waiters...
When I say guinea pig, I mean they literally cook the WHOLE guinea pig, sepereate some of the body parts, and then serve it. Upon receiving the garnished baby pig from Guinea, I dug in. Sometimes you gotta take a stab at many of life's great opportunities (no pun intended).

I must say, though, that the little pig was quite delish! I spoke with Delayne and Kyndall, and my cute, two and a half year old niece ended our conversation by saying, "Don't eat anymore guinea pig!" so I guess this will be my last time for eating guinea pig. Luckily they call guinea pig "cuy" here, so I can still eat that ;)

I was incredibly surprised to find that the guinea pig had a blended flavor of pork and chicken, along with a special mix of something new, something not quite tangible in explanation. After everyone crossed off one more bucket-list item with a simple bite of cuy, two other students and I, devoured the remains of the common American household pet. Do I feel sorry for the little guy? I might have, that is, until I tasted him. However, I must say, I don't think I will ever look at a guinea pig the same way...

An U.S. Citizen, a Brazilian, and some Cuzqueñan "Folk"

As part of the tourist ticket that we had bought, Alex, Bre, and I decided to go to a show where we would be exposed to various traditional Andean dances. It was a cute little place with about 200 seats, located off of la Avenida el Sol. There is a small stage with a little area in front where 20 Cuzqueñans play live, traditional music for the program. Alex had already been to the festival and gave us the highlights of the show, all of which were summed up by the words "There is a gorgeous MC, and I hope she's here again." Alex dreams were realized when a tall model, which means she was definitely not from Peru (I was referring to the tall part, of course). Alex began salivating and became enthralled whenever she walked on stage. I had to continually remind him about proper theater etiquette, which included not drooling on the seats and armrests.

The show was interesting, to say the least. Some of the dancers didn't seem as enthusiastic as others. However, there came a part where the MC, Alex's dream-wife, invited audience members to participate in dancing on stage while the orchestra played a traditional Cuzqueñan hymn. I guess I should clarify something. When I say "participate" I really mean that there were no professional dancers on stage, only yourself, and that you are cordially invited to make a fool out of yourself. For anyone who knows me well, you can probably guess what happened next...

Alex had made a joke about going on stage, but what he didn't know is that I missed the joke part. I started pushing Alex after receiving the invitation, telling him that we only live once (well, we don't really know for sure, but it worked well on the Brazilian Catholic). People around us began encouraging us to go on stage upon seeing us stand up. Alex frantically searched for a female to come up with him after Bre denied him the opportunity (she was slightly ill) and even almost had someone's wife come up (ironically at the persuasion and suggestion of her husband). Finally, I pushed Alex forward and we climbed the few steps as the crowd began to cheer us on.

It's hard to say what happened next, between the blazing lights and the constant laughter. You will just have to see the video below for the full effect... Oh, and you will get a glimpse of my newly learned "Salsa hips" during one section of the video... Enjoy the video!

After the show, Alex and I were congratulated a multiple times by each audience member. One lady asked to be my partner the next time I danced while another thought that Alex and I had learned traditional Peruvian dances and had choreographed the whole event. However, my favorite comment was given by a cute, middle-aged Peruvian who asked me if I was studying or going to school. I responded, "Yes, I am" and she ended by saying, and I quote "Don't waste your money. You should perform." So dear mom and dad, after this long story, I am proud to inform you that I will be staying in Cuzco to take up Traditional Andean Dancing... Jokes...

The Story of My Life

This is the story that I feel many people in my life have been waiting for. Some might even qualify this story as "blackmail."

It all started when we, a group of us from the school, met at the Plaza de Armas and went to some of our favorite bars and pubs to grab some food and drinks. Finally, after we were done with our drinks, we meandered to Mythology, a local discotheque that the students frequently visit. It was there that I let loose, despite the incredible cigarette smoke--the one part of Cuzco I will definitely not miss--and danced the night away.

The night had lasted for a bit and I was getting ready to leave when the people from the group, after trying to say my goodbyes, pushed me towards the bar. You see, the popularity of the Mythology radiates in letting people dance on top of the stage, or rather, the "bar" as they call it in ley/sober terms. Now, considering that I was 4,300 miles away from home, I figured I would satisfy my friend's desires and show them how we "Wyomin' " boys dance. That's right, I climbed up onto the bar and danced with my friends, while everyone snapped photos, laughing the whole time.

I can't say that I would have ever foreseen myself dancing on a bar, especially one in Cuzco, Peru, but after seeing Claus dance on the bar--a 31-year-old Dane, I figured I was allowed to have fun as well. Now to answer all of your questions and calm my family down, I can assure you all that I wasn't drunk, because that's just not me. I drink to be social, which usually involves smoothies and milkshakes.

I am sure that the pictures will be posted soon, somewhere, some place, for everyone to smile and laugh at. I left after the few minutes of blazing glory on the bar and went home, unlike the others who continued making more interesting memories. I had my fair share of dancing for that night and for a while...

Los últimos viajes del boleto turístico / The Last of the Tourist Ticket Trips

English
Bre, Alex, and I went to visit some interesting sights this last week. On Saturday, Katie, a girl from London, England, joined us to see the Salineras (the Salt Mines) and Moray. I must say, I am wearing out as a tourist and therefore, this next weekend, a group of us are going to travel to Machupicchu. Afterwards, I am going to resume being a Peruvian citizen and I will live as they live.

Anyway, the trip… I am going to divide this blog into distinct parts so that you guys can read about whatever part that interests you.

Tipón and Pikillacta

Luck…This is the best noun to describe what occurred when we chose a taxi driver to take us to see some sites. We were trying to find a taxi driver that could take us to see some of the sites on our Tourist Ticket—a ticket that you can buy for a set price that allows you to get into various sites around Cuzco. It has to be used within ten days, though. Well as luck would have it, I took a taxi Thursday morning to go to school. The driver was very lovable and friendly, as most of them are. After talking a little bit, I asked him how much it would cost to take us to a few sites such as Moray and the Salineras. He told me that he would do it for s/. 120 (120 soles), which comes out to be s/. 30 per person and about $10. I was lucky to have met Billy, the taxi driver, because he was the best guide for the trip.

We called Billy after we decided that we wanted him and that we also needed someone to take us to Tipón and Pikillacta this afternoon. He said that we couldn´t take us but that his cousin could, due to some other obligations. However, he would take us on Saturday to see Moray and the Salineras.

After 45 minutes of driving, we finally arrived to see Tipon, whose city is known for its “cuyerias”—the places where they prepare guinea pigs for consumption. The ruins of Tipon are some of the most interesting of the Incans, due to their massive system of aqueducts that run throughout the area. The aqueducts transport water throughout the ruins, which lie between some small hills. Like all other sites, Tipón consists of various terraces. There are various houses that surround the terraces where the water runs freely through the small aqueducts.

Afterwards, we traveled to Pikillacta, which literally means “The City of the Fleas” in Quechua, the preserved Incan language. The sun was setting, reflecting its light off the rosy rocks of the ancient city. We stayed for a bit, just long enough to take some photos. Then we regressed to Cuzco, while the night slowly descended upon us.

Moray and the Salt Mines

Last Saturday, we went to Moray and the Salt Mines with our taxi driver and guide, Billy. At 8 in the morning, we left to see the majesty of these sites. Katie, Bre and I sat in the back, while Alex sat in the front with Billy until I got carsick and had to switch places. During the trip, we stopped next to a ghastly looking house, of which Billy told us a short ghost story.

There was a marriage and the family lived in this particular house. Unfortunately, the family died, or rather, they killed each other. Now, the family continues to haunt the house and the house remains vacant. The longest time that anyone has lived there was approximately one month before they ran out due to the spirits that still live in the house. We, well Katie, Bre, and I, want to visit the house at night. Billy said we would take us, but wait for us outside.

Finally, we arrived at Moray, after passing through the city of Maras. Moray is very interesting because it is made in the form of circles of various sizes each one of which forms a new terrace. Billy explained to us that to some archeologists, Moray was an agricultural experiment where various plants were grown on different terraces, each of which possess a different temperature, while to other archeologists, the site was used as an amphitheater, because half of the site is surrounded by the earth and it projects very well. I think they were both wrong, and the site was used as a giant swimming pool, which consisted in different levels and depths of water. However, I don’t know mucho about archeology.

The trip to the Salt Mines was very difficult because there were lot of people working to repair the road that leads down to the Salt Mines. Donkeys and people worked together in order to carry water to the upper portions of the road were they mixed the dirt and water to flatten the road. The road was very narrow, and at times we had to back up so that trucks carrying dirt for the road could return above. We were always on the brink of falling down the mountain…
According to Billy, the water of the salt mines comes from subterranean sources. The water is very salty and consists in three types of salt: that which is used for eating and cooking, that which is used for other purposes, and that which has no use. The water collects in various bowls, or rather, small pools where the heat of the sun causes the water to evaporate and what remains is the salt.

We had the opportunity to stroll through the various bowls of salt, or rather, the salt mines. They were very impressive, consisting of hundreds of pools of salt.

After enjoying the sun and the beauty, we returned above and to Cuzco. On our way out, unfortunately, due to the incredible amount of traffic and narrow roads, we had to get out and push our taxi after it got stuck in the dirt. Nonetheless, it’s not the trips that go smoothly that stick with us, but rather, the parts that go horribly wrong, and for this reason I am greatly thankful for everything that goes wrong…

En Español
Bre, Alex y yo fuimos a ver unos sitios interesantes la semana anterior. El sábado, Katie, una chica de Londres, Inglaterra, nos acompañó para ver las Salineras y Moray. Ahora, estoy a punto de cansarme de ser turista y por eso, el próximo fin de semana vamos (un grupo de estudiantes) a viajar a Machupicchu. Después, voy a ser un ciudadano de Perú y viviré como ellos viven.

Pues, el viaje… Voy a dividir este blog en partes distintas para que puedan leer de cualquier parte que quieren.

Tipón y Pikillacta

La suerte… Esto es el mejor sustantivo para describir lo que ocurrió con nuestra selección de la taxista para nuestros viajes esta semana pasada. Estábamos tratando de encontrar a un taxista que pudiera llevarnos a ver unos sitios que son parte de nuestro Boleto Turístico—un boleto que puede comprar que se permite a ver unos sitios impresionantes por un precio barato. Se lo tiene que utilizar dentro de diez días. Pues, un día, el jueves pasado, llevé un taxi para ir a escuela. El hombre, como la mayoría de los taxistas, era muy agradable y era una persona simpática. Después de hablar un poco, le pregunté cuánto costaría para llevarnos a ver los sitios de Moray, las Salineras, Tipón y Pikillacta. Me dijo que era un taxista especial que trabajaba en el campo de turismo. Por eso, puede llevarnos por s/. 120 (120 soles), lo que es igual a 30 soles por persona y $10. El viaje dura aproximadamente una hora para viajar a Moray. ¡Qué buena suerte que yo tuviera la oportunidad de conocer a Billy, el taxista, porque era el mejor taxista para el viaje!

Entonces, le llamamos a él después de conversar y durante la tarde, queríamos ver si fuera posible que Billy nos llevara a ver los sitios de Tipón y Pikilacta. El nos dijo que su primo podría hacerlo y, como consecuencia, su primo nos llevó a ver los sitios durante la tarde porque Billy tuvo otros compromisos. Sin embargo, Billy iba a llevarnos a ver Moray y las Salineras el sábado.

Después de 45 minutos de conducir, por fin llegamos al sitio de Tipón, cuya ciudad es conocido por sus “cuyerias.” Las ruinas de Tipón son unas de las más interesantes de los Incas. La belleza y lo impresionante de Tipón radican en su sistema de transportar agua a varios sitios dentro del sitio. Los acueductos viajan por todo las ruinas y todavía funcionan para transportar las aguas. Había muchas terrazas puestas entre unas colinas. Había varias casas antiguas que rodeaban las terrazas donde yacían los acueductos pequeños.

Después, viajamos a Pikillacta, el nombre de la cual quiere decir “La ciudad de los pulgas” en Quechua, la lengua preservada de los Incas. El sol estaba bajando detrás de las montañas, reflejando su luz de las piedras rosadas de los restos de la ciudad. Nos quedamos por un rato y salimos después de tomar unas fotos. Regresamos a Cusco mientras la noche llegaba.

Moray y las Salineras

El sábado pasado, fuimos a Moray y a las Salineras con nuestro taxista y guía, Billy. A las 8 de la mañana, me salimos para ver todo lo majestuoso de eso dos sitios. Katie, Bre y Yo nos sentaban en el asiento del fondo mientras Alex se sentaba en el asiento del frente del carro hasta que tuve que cambiar sitios para aliviarme de no sentir bien por la culpa del carro. Durante el viaje, paramos al lado de una casa desgastada, la cual Billy nos contó una breve historia de terror. Había un matrimonio y la familia vivió en esa casa. Desafortunadamente, la familia murió, o sea, se mataron al uno al otro. Ahora, la casa se queda vacía porque los espíritus todavía viven y molestan a los que tratan de vivir en la casa. El tiempo más largo que alguien ha vivido en la casa es un mes pero nos esperaba hasta que regresáramos.

Pues, finalmente, llegamos a Moray, después de pasar por la ciudad de Maras. Moray es muy interesante porque es hecho en la forma de círculos, cada uno de lo cual forma una nueva terraza. Billy nos explicó que a unos arqueológicos les parecen que Moray era un sitio para un experimento agrícola donde se planteó diferentes plantas en cada terraza (cada terraza tenía su propia temperatura diferente) mientras a otros les parecen ser un anfiteatro por que la mitad es rodeada por el lada de la tierra. Creo que estaban equivocados, porque me parece que se usó el sitio de Moray como una piscina gigante, la cual consistió en varios niveles de agua. Pero, no sé mucho de arqueología…

El viaje a las Salineras, era muy difícil porque mucha gente trabajaba para arreglar la carretera a las Salineras. Los burros y la gente trabajaron juntos para llevar agua desde abajo a las partes más altas de la carretera. La carretera, o sea, la calle pequeña, era muy estrecho. A veces, tenemos que movernos atrás para que los camiones pudiera ir a arriba con la tierra necesaria para arreglar la calle. Siempre estábamos a punto de caernos del lado de la montaña.

Según Billy, el agua de las Salineras viene de partes subterráneas. El agua es muy salada y consiste en tres tipos de sal: la que se usa para comer y cocinar, la que se usa para otras cosas, y la que no se utiliza. El agua se divide en varias tazas, o sea, piscinas pequeños, donde el calor del sol causa que evapore el agua y lo que se queda es la sal.

Tuvimos la oportunidad, cuando finalmente llegamos, de dar un paseo por las tazas, o sea, las salineras. Era un sitio impresionante, consistiendo en muchas piscinas miniaturas de llena de agua salada.

Después de disfrutar del sol y la belleza, regresamos arriba y a Cusco. Desafortunadamente, debido a la calle nueva y el tráfico, nuestro taxi se atascó y tuvimos que empujarlo para librárselo de la tierra.

The First Weeks

En English

What I have learned since arriving to Cuzco:

A city´s beauty does not originate from its appearance, but rather, from the beauty that lies in the hearts of the people.
You have not questioned your faith until you have tried to cross the streets in Cuzco or you have taken a taxi…
Despite all of their wonderful and majestic creations, why did the Incans never invent an elevator?
The discotheques are the best places to watch a 31-year old Danish man dance on top of a bar.
The Peruvian children are some of the best venders in the world
Yes, it´s true that the inside of a house can be colder than the outside, even if the sun is not shining.
It is possible to have a difference of 5-10 degrees Celsius (15-20 degrees Fahrenheit) between the sun and the shade
I am falling in love with Cuzco with every day that passes.

This last weekend, Breana, Alex, and I went to La Valle Sagrado (the Sacred Valley) and to some important sites that lie very close to the city of Cuzco. We really enjoyed the trips and we even had the opportunity to see the Pisaq ruins, which are the second most important site after Machupicchu. We conversed a lot about life and other themes, and Bre and I discussed our vocations in the field of medicine. I don’t know why, but this city and this region have been a blessing, and I wish that I had decided to stay a few months longer. Bre and I both agree; we are going to miss this city very much when we leave.

The Interesting—the most funny and interesting stories thus far

An injection please?

Last week, Claus became ill with a strange that presented with no fever and a rough cough. The cough became much stronger when he lay down to try and sleep. Finally, after the advice of his girlfriend, Claus went to see a specialist at a recommended clinic. The doctor prescribed him dexamethazone—a corticosteroid that suppresses the immune system as well as relieving any swelling. The funny, or rather, interesting part of the story is that the medicine was prescribed in injection form. Guess who had to administer the medicine? That´s right, every night I would stick Claus with his daily immunosuppressant. My host family, upon hearing that I really did give Claus the injection laughed incredibly hard, especially when I told them I was studying medicine and had never actually administered a shot to anyone.

All I can say in retrospect is that it was very good practice (apparently I am very gentle according to Claus) and that Claus is going to make a quick a speedy recovery.

En español

Lo que he aprendido desde llegar:

La belleza de una ciudad no proviene de las apariencias de los edificios sino de la belleza de los corazones de la gente
No has cuestionado tu fe hasta que hayas tratado de cruzar las calles cuzqueñas o hayas cogido un taxi…
A pesar de todas sus creaciones majestuosas, ¿por qué los incas nunca inventaron un ascensor?
Las discotecas son los mejores lugares para ver un hombre danés de 31 años bailar encima de un bar
los niños de Perú son los mejores vendedores en todo el mundo
Sí, es verdad que el interior de una casa puede ser más frío que el exterior, incluso cuando no está soleado.
Es posible existir una diferencia de 5-10 centígrados de temperatura entre la asombra y el sol.
Me estoy enamorando de Cusco con cada día que pasa.

El fin de semana pasado, Breana, Alex y yo fuimos a La Valle Sagrado y a unos sitios que yacen muy cerca de la ciudad de Cusco. Disfrutábamos muchísimo de los viajes, y tuvimos la oportunidad de ver las ruinas de Pisaq, la cual es el segundo sitio más importante según Machupicchu. Visitamos los sitios de Ollaytaytambo, la ciudad de Urubamba, chinchero, Sacsayhuamán y otros lugares famosos de los incas. Charlamos un poco sobre la vida y otras cosas, y Bre y yo hablamos de nuestras vocaciones en el campo de medicina. No sé por qué, pero esta ciudad y comarca ha sido una bendición, y quiero que yo hubiera decidido a quedarme por unos meses más. Estábamos de acuerdo, Brey yo, que íbamos a extrañar ese lugar muchísimo al salir.

Lo interesante—las historias más chistosas e interesantes desde llegar

¿Una inyección por favor?

Hace una semana, Claus, mi amigo danés, contrajo una enfermedad interesante. El sólo tiene una tos áspera que ocurrió lo más cuando se acostaba. Por fin, y debido los consejos de su novia Charlotte, Claus visitó a un especialista de una clínica recomendada. El especialista le recetó una medicina que se llama dexametasona—un corticod que se utiliza para suprimir el sistema inmunológico y aliviar la hinchazón de sus bronquios. Lo chistoso es que tuve que ponerle las inyecciones cada noche, pues, a la familia le parece chistoso. Todas las noches, la familia me preguntó si hubiera ponerle la inyección a Claus y después reirían por un rato. Lo que fue tan chistoso para la familia fue que yo les había dicho que yo no había puesto a una inyección a nadie, y que Claus fue la primera persona.

Todo lo que puedo decir es que la práctica era buenísima y que Claus recibió bien las inyecciones (y que soy muy tierno, según Claus). Ahora, Claus siente más mejor y va recuperarse rápidamente.

El festival del distrito de Cusco / The Festival of the District of Cuzco

English
Dreams... What an interesting thing. Especially when mixed with the surroundings of the dreamer. As 7am rolled around on Sunday, I was awakened by the sound of orchestras playing. At first, I thought they were just warming up and would only perform for a little bit. Then I came to two realizations: they weren´t warming up—they really were that bad at playing—and they would be playing all day long because this was no ordinary Sunday; today was the feast for the district of Cusco. I tried to sleep later, as I was still pretty tired, but my dreams were mixed with the constant soundings of various instruments. I’m not sure that these Cuzqueñan orchestras had ever heard of the word “balance” when discussing music; the melody was formed by whoever could play the loudest.

I woke up around 10:30 and was served by the family. Usually, breakfast is served at 7am or so, followed by a hefty lunch at 1:30 pm and a very light dinner consisting of bread, maybe an egg, and some tea. Breakfast consists of bread and tea as well. The reason for only eating one large meal, and especially not eating heavily at night, is because your stomach cannot digest the food as well due to the elevation during the night. Therefore, if you have a late supper, you are bound to sleep poorly. Fortunately though, there is always enough bread to fill you up at evening and your body isn´t usually that hungry at night anyway.

Vilma is incredibly loving and is always smiling and chuckling. She really seems to understand foreigners and is really attentive to the needs of everyone. The school makes sure that the families know that all dinners need to be cooked and that all water that is served should be boiled prior to serving it. Sylvia, before she left, told me that she missed school one day because she had been out drinking too much the night before. Vilma was asked by the school why Sylvia never made it to school and Vilma informed them that Sylvia was “sick.” Vilma then informed Sylvia that, should the school ask, she was sick that day.

So I found myself finishing breakfast and informed Vilma that I was missing my family and mi cariña. Vilma then told me about the festival that would be going on all day, a festival for the district of Cuzco that occurs once every year, and I was able to catch it. After finishing breakfast and getting cleaned up a bit, Vilma informed me that Claus and Charlotte were going to take me around the city and visit the festival with me. Still feeling homesick, I was thankful for the company of my new Danish friends.

If there were ever a people who would know how to enjoy life and party, then Peruvians would definitely be in the top five. La Avenida de la Cultura was completely closed in the section nearest the school because there was a parade of a number of different districts of the city showing off their native dances and dress. Music was being played everywhere, and people dressed in their indigenous costumes filled the streets, performing of a variety of dances. The smell of a wide variety of dishes filled the air, including a new smell: the smell of the cuye, or guinea pig in English.

Yes that is right, roasted guinea pig filled the air. Yea, it may sound strange that an animal, or rather, a pet of many children in the States, is the national dish of this region. No, I haven´t tried one yet, but this is definitely part of my plans to fully experience Cusco.

Claus, Charlotte, and I ate at a little restaurant by the side of another plaza, where I tried a free Pisco Sour (a famous Peruvian alcoholic drink that consists in alcohol and grappa, and is incredibly sour) and ate Lomo Saltado, the same dish that my mamá had cooked for me the Saturday I arrived. Lomo Saltado consists of beef, tomatoes, onions, and French fries, on top of some rice. Talk about a new favorite!

At the end of our trek, we returned to the house with my new friends. We had a special dinner that evening that Sylvia cooked for us (ham lasagna), which was very tasty. It was Sylvia´s last evening so a bunch of people from the school, all of which are Claus and Charlotte´s friends, came over for a fiesta. Then afterwards, we all met up at a local bar called The Indigo, which is owned by a foreigner but consists of great drinks and a good atmosphere (minus the smoking).
Overall, it was a good day, and the feelings of homesick were masked by my newfound respect and love for the city of Cusco. Perhaps, I was starting to enjoy this place. Maybe I will enjoy it…

En Español
Los sueños… ¡Qué interesa los sueños! Son muy interesantes, especialmente, cuando se mezclan con el ambiente del soñador. Al llegar las siete de la mañana, me despertaron los sonidos de una orquestra que estaba sonando. Al principio, pensé que la orquestra estaba preparándose y que iban a tocar por un ratito. Entonces, me di cuenta de dos cosas: que la orquestra de verdad era tan mala, y que no iba a parar tocando por todo el día porque ese día fue el día del festival del distrito de Cusco. No obstante, intenté a dormir por unas horas más, pero mis sueños mezclaron con los sonidos del festival. No estoy seguro si la gente de la orquestra había oído de la palabra “equilibrio” cuando se habla de música, pero era obvio que no había prestado atención si hubiera aprendido la palabra. La melodía fue establecida por la persona que podía tocar lo más fuerte.

Me levanté a las 10:30 de la mañana y desayuné. Típicamente, se sirve el desayuno a las siete de la mañana, mientras se sirve el almuerzo grandísimo a la uno de la tarde y la cena a las siete de la noche. El almuerzo es la comida más grande del día mientras que las otras dos consisten en pan y té. La razón que se come una cena grande es que el cuerpo, particularmente, el estómago, no puede digerir la comida debido a la altura alta. Por eso, la cena simplemente consiste en comer pan y tomar té. Si comieras una cena grande, sería probable que no durmieras bien durante esa la noche. Afortunadamente, generalmente no tengo hambre porque el cuerpo no quiere comer mucho al llegar la noche.

Vilma es tan cariñosa y muy atenta a las necesidades de los extranjeros. Es verdad que la escuela se asegura que las familias saben que tienen que preparar la comida bien y sólo sirven el agua para beber que ha sido hervida. Además, Sylvia me explicó antes de salir que un día la escuela le ha contactado a Vilma para preguntar por qué Sylvia no había estado presente en la escuela ese día. Vilma le dijo que Sylvia se enfermó mientras la razón real era que Sylvia había tomado demasiado alcohol la noche anterior. Vilma dijo a Sylvia que, si le preguntara, Sylvia debería decirle que ella había estado muy enferma.

Pues, terminé el desayuno y le informé a Vilma que yo añoraba mucho a mi familia y a mi novia cariñosa. Vilma me respondió que había un festival para el distrito de Cusco, un festival que sólo ocurre una vez cada año y yo tuve la suerte de verlo, y que las fiestas iban a durar todo el día. Me fui para limpiarme y Vilma regresó a decirme que Claus y Charlotte iban a acompañarme a ver a todas las fiestas. Estoy seguro que ella les dijo para que yo no sintiera tan solo. No obstante, aunque todavía yo extrañaba mucho a mi familia y a mi novia, me agradecía mucho que tuviera la amistad de mis nuevos amigos dinamarqués.

Si existiera una gente que supieran festejar y disfrutar la vida, entonces los peruanos serían de la cinco gente más mejor. La avenida la cultura fue completamente bloqueado para que los carros no pudieran manejar por eses calles. Había un tablado para los grupos de música que estaba muy cerca de mi casa en la Plaza de Wenchaq, lo cual puede ver desde mis ventanas. Había mucha gente indígena que está en la ciudad, vestido de su ropa nativa. La gente formó grupos en las calles que se parecían mucho a un desfile. Bailaron, cantaron, tocaron música indígena y disfrutaron todas las personas que estaban en las calles, especialmente los que se participaron en el desfile y las danzas indígenas. El olor de varias comidas llenó el aire y se pudo oler un olor fuerte y diferente: el olor de la cuye, la cual es la comida nacional de Perú.

Sí, me oyeron bien ustedes. La cuye asado es la comida nacional de Perú. Sí, es un poco extraño oír que un animal, o sea, una mascota que tienen muchos niños en los Estados Unidos, es la comida nacional en esta comarca. No, no la he probado todavía, pero es parte de mis planes de experimentar Cuzco completamente.

Claus, Charlotte y yo almorzamos en un restaurante que está situada en una de las plazas múltiples, donde probé un Pisco Sour (una bebida nativa de Cusco que consiste en alcohol y el pisco, lo cual es muy amargo) y comí el Lomo Saltado, la misma comida que me sirvió mi mamá al llegar en Perú. Lomo Saltado se basa en una mezcla de la carne, el arroz, los tomates, las cebollas picadas y las papas fritas. ¡Qué sabrosa esa comida nueva!

Al fin de nuestro paseo por la ciudad de Cusco, regresamos a casa. Esa noche, tuvimos una cena preparada por Sylvia para despedirle a Sylvia. Ella sirvió su lasaña famosa y todos sus amigos de la escuela que asisto ahora vinieron para festejar un poco. Después de alimentarnos, nos reunimos en un bar local que se llama “El Índigo” y nos divertimos por un rato. El Índigo consiste en bebidas buenas y es de un extranjero. Por eso, toda la comida es segura para comer y todas las bebidas son preparadas con el agua embotellada.

En su mayor parte, el día le pasó bien, y los sentimientos de extrañar a mi familia y mi novia no eran tan fuertes como al principio del viaje. Quizás yo comenzara a disfrutar de la ciudad de Cusco. Tal vez la ciudad vaya a gustarme…

Saturday and then some / El Sábado y más...

From here on out, I am going to be writing in both Spanish and English. Don't worry, they both say the same thing, this is just a great way for me to expand on my Spanish and try to use it a little more. For this reason, I will probably be behind on blogging until this weekend or later.

English
The taxi ride to Vilma´s house, mi new Cusqueñan mother, was the craziest thing that I have ever done in my life. I don´t think that neither speed limits nor laws exist to protect people who ride in taxis. The roads have no lines to mark qhere you are supposed to drive, and even if there where lines, the taxi drivers don´t pay attention to them. I have to say that I was a little frightened and by the taxi ride. They use their horns to signal to other drivers that they are about to cut them off. Consequently, I was always thinking we were on the brink of crashing with another car. Finally, though, we arrived at Vilma´s house, or rather, at her apartment.

The apartment seemed much better than the others I had seen. Vilma explained to me that this apartment belongs to her daughter. She lives on the sixth floor. Upon entering the elevator, Vilma told me that you have to press the buttons in a special order in order to get to the sixth floor. It was much like a James Bond movie. The correct code consists in pressing the sixth floor, followed by two, three, and finally six again. How strange!

I met some other students who were living with Vilma, one of which, Sylvia—a Brazillian girl—left this past Tuesday. The other two people were a couple from Denmark, named Claus (pronounced like “k-laos”) who had already been there for five weeks. After eating lunch, I slept after hearing the advice of Claus, Charlotte, Syliva, and the rest of my new family.
The family, with which I now lived, consists of three people: Vilma, Liliana (a 19-year old girl who is studying business administration) and a lady whose name I can´t remember. They are incredibly nice and will not let me help with any of the chores.

Saturday was very hard for me, especially after such a long plane ride. I missed all of my family and mi quierida. When you find yourself in a new situation, where all of the comforts that you are used to are removed from your possession, you can only feel incredibly alone. I was neither able to call my parents nor send texts to my favorite person. I kept thinking I would receive one of those special text messages that I always waited for back home… At this point, I had lost all hope of enjoying this trip, but everything changed when Sunday arrived thanks to the friendship of Claus and Charlotte.


En Español
Por adelante, voy a redactar este blog en Español y en Íngles. No se preocupen, los dos hablan de los mismos temas. Sólo quiero usar más mi español para que yo pueda mejorar mi español. Por resultado de escribir en dos lenguas, voy a quedarme un poco restrasado en mis blogs, pero espero alcanzar todo lo que he experimentado al llegar este fin de semana...

El viaje por taxi a la casa de Vilma, mi mamá cusqueña mientras estoy en Perú, era lo más loco de todas las cosas que he hecho en mi vida. Creo que no existen limitos y leyes para proteger a la gente que está en un taxi. No hay líneas para distinguir los lados diferentes de las calles, y si existen las líneas, el conductor no pudo verlas. Tengo que decir que el viaje por taxi me asustó un poco. Se usa la bocina del carro para señalar a los otros conductores que vamos a pasar en frente de los otros carros. Por eso, siempre yo pensaba que estábamos a punto de chocar con otro coche. Por fin, llegamos a la casa, o sea, el departamento de la casa de Vilma. El departamento me parecía más bueno que los otros que yo había visto. Vilma me explicó que todo el departamento pertenece a su hija. Vilma vive en el sexto piso del edificio peruano. Al entrar en el ascensor, Vilma me dijo que hay que pulsar los botones correctos para llegar al sexto piso; era como un código especial en una película de James Bond. El código correcto consiste en pulsar los números de los pisos seis, dos, tres y por fin el número seis otra vez más. Si no se hace el código, no se va a llegar al sexto piso por ascensor. ¡Qué raro!

Conocí a otras estudiantes que ya se quedaban en la habitación de Vilma. Sylvia, una brasileña, acaba de salir para Brasil el martes después de que había llegado. Las otras dos personas son una pareja de Dinamarca, y se llaman Charlotte y Claus. Ya estuvieron en Perú por cinco semanas cuando llegué. Después de almorzar, me dormí según los consejos de Claus, Charlotte, Sylvia y toda my familia nueva.

La familia con que convivo, son tres: Vilma, Liliana (una chica de 19 años que estudia la administración de las empresas) y una mujer cuyo nombre todavía no sé. Ellos son amables y siempre no me permiten que yo ayude con los quehaceres.

El sábado era muy difícil, especialmente después de un viaje largo por avión. Todo el día les extraño a mi familia y mi querida. Cuando estás en una situación nueva, donde todas los lujos de su vida anterior se han sido quitados, sólo puedes sentir sólo y tener un poco miedo de lo que vaya a pasar. No pude llamar a mis padres y no pude enviar mensajes de texto a mi persona favorita. Seguía pensando que iba a recibir el mensaje que siempre yo estaba esperando. Sin embargo, nunca llegaron los mensajes... He pérdida todas las esperanzas de gozar ese viaje, pero al llegar el domingo, todo cambió gracias a la amistad de Claus y Charlotte.

El Viaje--The Trip

So here I begin, sitting in an internet cafe, typing away my first blog. I have so much to write about after three days but I have decided that I am going to spread it out because I am getting worn out right now doing all of this typing. This blog, correctly entitled "The Trip" is going to attempt to paint the picture of my entire trip to Cusco, because it was VERY interesting.
My trip began early Friday morning, at around 4am. After finally getting through security at Riverton´s finest airport (no sarcasm intended, right?) I boarded the plain where I sat next to a Native American man who began talking with me. I mentioned that I was going to Peru and he started to detail out an ancient prophecy that he, and all of the tribes of this hemisphere, are taking part in. There is a great prophecy that explains "when the eagle and condor fly together, there will be a great time of peach and unity." The eagle represents the North American tribes while the condor is the symbol of the Peruvian tribes. Every four years, a great peace run is conducted where tribes begin in Alaska and literally run all the way to Peru, stopping at various tribes. The hope is that this will bring the peace and unity that the prophecy asks for. It was a wonderful experience to share this great story with such an amazing man. We also discussed alternative and Western medicine, which I love the idea of blending culture, traditional medicines, and Western medicine.

After my flight landed in Denver, I was able to spend some time with my parents until I had to part and await my flight to Houston, which ended up being an hour and a half delayed. Fortunatley, I had my baggage checked all the way to Lima, Peru, although I had bought two separate tickets: one from Riverton to Denver, and the rest from Denver to Cusco. On the flight to Houston, the lady at the counter gave me a spot right by the front exits (which meant I had no seats in front of me and plenty of leg room) so that I could make it to my next flight in time. The man sitting next to me unfortunately had a flight to Beliz (which of course reminded me of someone special) but he had to get his baggage and try to catch his flight in around 30 minutes thanks to the delay we had experienced in Denver. The delay was due to an airplane problem (comforting, I know...). I doubt he made it, but as you can imagine, they don´t have many flights to Beliz every day. I had to re-check through security in Houston, which consisted of HUGE lines of 150 or more people in front of me. The lady at the beginning of the que line was allowing some people to cut in front of the line. I had been in the line for 10 minutes and tried to ask the lady if there was anything I could do, because my flight to Lima was leaving in around 40 minutes, and the line was quite large. The short African American lady, upon asking her a question, simply shook her head before I could finish and give me an up-and-down look as if I was a stupid over¡-privledged white man. Perhaps I am spoiled, but I was really trying to be nice. She wouldn´t even listen or respond to me. I asked her if I´d make my flight and she nastily responded that I probably wouldn´t (she was wrong.). So much for Southern Hospitality... When I get back, I am going to try out my new Peruvian Spanish slang on her I think... jokes...

Finally, I boarded my flight to Lima, where I was luckily seated between two females of my own age. One girl, Kady, was with a doctor and a group that was going to Peru to do clinical work. The other girl, Nicole, was going to Peru by herself and was doing an internship near Cusco. Together, we all had a great time, enjoying the touch-screens that are placed before each passenger in the back of the head rest of every seat. You can choose between a plethora of tv shows, movies, music, and games to help you pass the time. Finally, after a great flight (6 hours of fun) we landed in Lima where the health officials gave us the okay to exit the plane. Every Peruvian airport official had masks on in light of the Swine Flu. Then, Nicole, Kady, and I checked through customs and left to get our baggage. Now comes the interesting part....

Have you ever wondered how animals feel in zoos? Let´s just say I have a new empathy for those creatures. After bypassing customs, (they have you push a button that I think randomly selects people to be checked by customs--very secure, I know) we entered the exit of the airport. Before us was a large area, enclosed and encircled by que line rope. Hundreds of Peruvians stood before us, many of which were holding signs with people´s names on them. We walked into the center where Nicole and I looked for her name (she was being picked up in Lima). I used my Spanish to the best of my knowledge although a few people knew English well. We were on Latino American time, which translated into a 45 minute wait until Nicole´s ride showed up. It was unnerving because we just kept walking around in this closed off area, while Peruvians surrounded us with signs, held back by nylon que lines.

With a final hug, Nicole departed and the loneliness and strange feelings began setting in. I am alone. All alone, I thought to myself. I asked a guy to help me because I had to re-check in. He took my luggage on a small cart and led me through las muchedumbres--the crowds-- safely. Then I learned my first lesson in bartering. He asked for una propina--a tip. It was only supposed to be three dollars but he ended up with eight somehow. I don´t know how that happened.

I proceded to re-check in for my flight to Cusco, Peru. The lady behind the counter told me that I could procede to the second floor but I had to wait until 4:55 in the morning to check in. So I walked, free of my heavy checked bag, and only loaded down by my small carry-on. I meandered around upstairs for some minutes, feeling the loneliness set in. I couldn´t call anyone, not Erin, not my Mom, nor my Dad. I was cut off completely. Well, I could have called them but it would have cost a ton because I was in an airport, where everything is EXPENSIVE, even in Peru. Mind you it was approximately 12am at this point, central time.

I finally found a chapel where, for the first time a good time, I sat down in a religous place and prayed. Why was I here? Was I this crazy? I can´t wait for these two months to pass! These are the thoughts that crowded my very exhausted mind. I finished quickly and wandered around, changed my money into the Nuevo Sol (the Peruvian currency) and went to do my business in the restroom. Now I know that God/the Universe must have a sense of humor, but this next part of the story really made me a believer and the universal truth that we call "Divine Humor." Mind you, if you are looking for a good laugh but have recently had a hernia operation, I don´t think you should read this next part.

So I locked myself away in a stall where I decided to relax my stomach and do my business. Finally, after some nice quiet minutes of doing my business, I decided it was time to "clean up." I reached down to the toilet paper (which I now know is called papel higénico) to find, to my complete utter astonishment, that there was absolutely NO toilet paper. I began to sweat as the realization set in. What was I going to do? I had heard that complete immersion experiences were the best way to learn Spanish, but I didn´t think my Spanish would be tested by having to look for more toilet paper.

I sat there, all of my years of quietly thinking problem solving being placed to the test. Finally, the verdict was in. I had two options: I could pull up my trousers, walk to another stall and try to clean up. OR, I could do the hop. I know that all of you know what I am talking about to one extent or another. The "hop" involves very strategic planning. One must plan for all pitfalls, and understand the concepts of physis very well. If you do not hop with both feet together then you face the chance of facing a terrible pitfall. However, if you don´t take care of your pants, you may find yourself landing on your pants, slipping, and crashing into humiliation. So here it was. I quietly opened the door to the stall and peered out towards the sinks. No one. But what if someone came in? The voice of reason in my head entered and told me, "Now or never, gringo. What do you have to lose? You are a gringo in Peru. A gringo from the USA. No one will judge you. Sides, you may bring a much-needed smile and a great show of white to some unexpected traveler or airport worker." I took a deep breath and I lean forward.

Then the toilet began to flush, splahsing a little bit of overspray onto my...well, you know! It stopped, then flushed again as if screaming at me to leave. Finally, sick of the splash of cold Peruvian toilet water, I quickly slid my carry-on baggage under to the next stall and began hopping out of the stall carefully concentrating on all physics. This is when I realized I was in the women´s bathroom... Jokes! The flight went well and I made it to my destination with a good, but rather bumpy, landing. And to my great relief, there was toilet paper. The horror was over. All I could do was laugh. God had relieved me of my loneliness for at least 15 minutes, ending it all with a good laugh. I could hear the universe whispering¨"It could be so much worse. Go placidly amid the noise and haist and remember to laugh at yourself a lot!"

After the toilet fiasco of May 23, 2009, I was exhausted and finally found a spot in Starbucks to curl up and sleep. There were some small lazy boy chairs that they had but they were full with weary travelers as well. I curled up on the floor, lazily finding comfort in the soft piano sounds of David Nevue. I turned on my cell phone, which switched to roaming. My watch copped out on me, so I needed a great way to wake myself up so I wouldn´t miss my flight. I turned off the wireless part of my phone so it was only a device for time, etc., and wouldn´t roam anymore. Finally, a chair opened and I moved, trying to find some solace in a few hours of mediocre dreams. I dreamt of home. I dreamt of the parts of my life that have become so incredibly desirable and important during this last semester.

I woke up and boarded my flight after paying an Airport fee ($10) to get into the country. Then I boarded the flight to Cusco where I watched the plane exit the Lima Airport where thousands of lights glittered below. I watched the Andes float below, unable to enjoy any sleep as the sun quietly rose beyond the soft white clouds. When we approached Cusco, I saw what appeared to be a city of shambles. My despair grew. This was not going to be fun. But I knew I had to give in and believe that all would be well. I didn´t know yet.

I exited the plane and went to claim my baggage, a feat that would test my lungs greatly since I was now at 11,500 feet in altitude. To my great amazement, there was a small band consisting of a guitarist, a mandolin (I think?), a drum and a Peruvian Pan Pipe. I must say, it was the most beautiful music that I had heard in a while.
I collected my luggage and left outside where a group of cusqueñans quietly awaited with signs for people. An hour passed and I was the only one left and my host mom wasn´t there. I left the gated area after convsering with the gatekeeper to find a bottle of water and use the restroom. With what little Soles I had left, I bought a bottle of water and felt despair sink in. Luckily I had the information of my host mom, including her address and phone numbers. Then a taxi driver once again approached me. He had asked me earlier if I needed a ride and I explained I had a family coming. However, he stayed with me, patiently waiting. He then helped me dial the number from a pay phone and I spoke with my host mom´s housekeeper (I think). My host mom was coming (I would find out that the school hadn´t given her my new flight times and she was coming at 8:40 although my flight landed at 7am). I continued talking with the taxi driver, who complimented me on my Spanish. Finally, my sweet host mom (or rather host grandma), Vilma, arrived in a taxi to take me home. I gave my thanks to the Taxi driver, but he had already turned, saying that there was no reason to thank him. God bless him. He was a lifesaver.
And now began my Cusqueñan adventure...