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...