Riding Through the Andes

This story starts two days ago, on Monday, when Alex and I were walking through the central plaza, taking pictures of the amazingly beautiful day, with all of its colors, flags, and bright blue sky, when suddenly Alex hears "caballos." I totally missed it, but this fellow standing about 4 feet away from us was handing out cards detailing horseback riding adventures through the Andes. After a few seconds of consideration (mostly me saying "please, please, please" and Alex grimacing because he is slightly horse-phobic) we decided to talk to Umberto. He took us into his office, we discussed the condition of the horses, where we would go, and how these things work out. Conveniently, we had just one more day left on our 10-day tourist ticket (remember, the one that cost us 140 soles?), and on this horseback riding journey we could visit 3 of the places remaining on the ticket! That convinced Alex and we signed up.

So, yesterday we suited up, met Umberto at 9 a.m. sharp, and were chauffeured (in a very nice car) to the stables, just outside of Cusco, and near Sacsayhuaman (where the Inti Raymi festival was held). We were met by a fellow wearing sweatpants, Converses, and a baseball hat, who told us that he was our "horse man." He asked us about our horse experience (mine being a lot, Alex's being none) and picked out horses for us. I inspected them--looking at their feet, their muscles, etc. and decided that they were well cared for and quite healthy (you hear stories about shabby, unhealthy horses for tourists--but these horses were obviously loved). My horse was a white horse called Rosie, and Alex's was a sorrel horse,with a shiny, spiky mane, named Percio. Our horse man, interestingly, did not ride a horse. Instead, he chose to follow us, having a very friendly conversation in Spanish, and playing traditional Peruvian music on his wooden flute.

The first hour was straight up the side of a mountain, winding through tall grasses, navigating over bumpy terrain, and sidestepping large rocks. The higher we went, the more we could see of the surrounding towns, of Cusco, and of the mountains extending forever into the distance. Once we arrived to the top, we dismounted, and walked down a winding, rural road to visit the first set of ruins. These were Puca Pucara, formerly an Incan fortress and check-in site, and Tambomachay, which apparently was an Incan ritual bath house. Puca Pucara was pretty amazing--anchored to the side of a cliff and looming up over the mountainside. While we were there there was an older man and his grandson (presumably). The man was so adorable! He was taking pictures of everything and having his grandson record him walking around the ruins. He asked us if we wanted him to take a picture of Alex and me standing near the edge of the ruins, and then afterward, he asked me to be in a picture with him so he could remember us. Tambomachay was not quite as interesting as Puca Pucara, it was simply a short road with ruins to the left side. There were, however, some very stately alpacas hanging out there. After this, we hiked back down the rural road, to the site where our horses were waiting.

Along the way we met up with a decently large white dog with brown patches who was incredibly friendly. We petted him and he decided that he was going to lead us back to the horse spot. Whenever he got too far ahead of us, he would stop and wait until we caught up. It was adorable. When we came back to our horses, there were suddenly like 35 more horses, where groups of tourists had made their way up the mountain too. Luckily, we were way ahead of them and didn't encounter them again. Anyway, with our new dog pal in tow, we got back on our horses and rode down the mountain. My horse was pretty opposed to going down, so I ended up taking an interesting, very windy path to the bottom of the mountain. Once there, I found myself in between two people riding their horses for leisure. One of these people was set on getting his horse to go full speed, and my horse was set on making sure she was constantly in the lead. Thus, I had a fun jaunt around the bottom of the mountain (it really was pretty fun), racing this fellow (unintentionally), until we arrived at a small stream, where our horses hopped over and promptly decided it was time for a break. I waited a good few minutes before Alex and our guide made it down the mountain, and then we dismounted again to explore the Temple of the Moon.

The Temple of the Moon is basically a large rock with two caves in it and some ritual ruins in front of it. Alex and I climbed to the top to look out over the valley. There we were harassed by a hipster-looking fellow who asked if we needed a guide (which, of course, we said no). We then climbed down the face of this very large rock and discovered an entrance to one of the caves. It was basically a narrow crack, with not much inside, but regardless, it was still exciting to explore. After our adventures here, we found our horses again and pursued the last leg of our ride.

This part was the most amazing. Our guide was playing his wooden flute, the wind was lightly blowing, and if you looked, you could see the valley all the way to the horizon. It was one of the most peaceful experiences I've had in my life. We rode down a dusty road, next to some large farms, through a tiny, rural village, and finally dismounted right before we reached a small town near Sacsayhuaman. We thanked our guide and tipped him, then proceeded to hike through a cedar-like forest until we reached the two remaining Incan ruin sites that were on our tourist ticket. We meandered through them, hiked back down to Cusco, and had amazing bbq veggie burgers for lunch. It really was one of the most perfect days ever.

Inti Raymi

It has been quite a week...I've felt slightly ill, but I believe I'm on the mend now, so no worries. I did some work in the hospital this week, but as mentioned, I think my time will be better spent concentrating on learning and practicing Spanish with an emphasis on medical terminology. The hospitals are odd, all large and drafty with no manner of temperature control. They had taken me to general surgery to begin with, but a fellow wearing jeans with hair sticking up every way, who was presumably the chief of the department, declared it to be 'far too complicated', and off I went to the ED. In the emergency department, rooms are organized in specialty, so I was in the internal medicine room. 'Room' perhaps is not the best word, as they were just areas separated by curtains that patients and staff would just bust into while another patient was being seen. I think 90% of what I saw ended up being classified as acute gastritis. Nothing too exciting.

Elsewhere in Cusco, it has been a nonstop party this entire week. On Monday night, there was a big public concert in the Plaza de Armas. It was packed full, and served as a preview for the rest of the week's difficulty in navigating through the city. The party-goers were interspersed with an absurd amount of people selling everything to beer and cigarettes to blinky knick-knacks. Yep, the streets have had a distinctly urine-y smell the last few days. Thursday's Corpus Christi only increased the cerveza intake, with a huge party surrounding the parade of various Catholic images around the Plaza. The hospedaje (hostel sort of thing) where Veronica and Heidi have their Spanish lessons have a really good view of the Plaza, and I spent a good while watching Corpus Christi from there, as well as the rest of the city. The valley of Cusco is a little bowl of civilization stuck in the middle of semi-green Andean hills. One wonders how anyone can get up some of the steep roads that are nearer to the edges of this bowl. The sky varies from cloudy to complete sun, but it never rains since its the dry season. Far in the distance, there is the snow-capped peak of Salkantay, where I imagine the Dark Lord lives in his secret fortress, plotting all manner of plots. Luckily, Friday was Inti Raymi, the biggest Cusco festival that is a reenactment of the Inca asking the Sun to reheat the Earth. Sacsayhuaman, the Incan ruins that lie behind the Cristo Blanco statue on the Northwest edge of town, serve as the venue. It is quite a walk, and there a ridiculous amount of people that crowd up there. It is quite a sight to see, and not necessarily because of the ritual, which can be better seen on DVD or youtube I'm sure. There are all manner of folk picnicing, hanging out, selling stuff, etc. etc. Though there is a constantly huge crowd up in the park, there is a constant crowd moving in and out. And they are all throwing trash everywhere. I do not envy whoever has to clean that up.

Walk Like an Incan

Last Sunday, after a full and wonderfully festive week in the very beautiful (at times) Cusco, we hopped on a bus (okay, it wasn't as nonchalant as that: Pablo planned very well for us to take an ecologically friendly tour through a very highly rated tour company), and we headed to the Sacred Valley. The Sacred Valley is an area near Cusco that houses cities with various Inca ruins and still maintains many traditional cultural activities. We mainly visited three cities: Pisac, Ollantaytambo, and Chinchero.

Let me begin this, though, by articulating the...erm...squabble that Alex and I had with the tourist officers. Okay, so having a student ID is supposed to get you half off the price of 140 soles, right? That means it will only cost students 70 soles for the trip. So, Alex and I make our way to the ticket-buying counter, we present our student IDs, and start digging out 70 soles. The woman behind the desk then informs us that our student IDs don't count. Say what? Apparently because ETSU does not issue a new ID EVERY SINGLE YEAR (with the date on it) it means that our IDs are not valid for the student ID discount. So, I proceeded to read the back of our ID cards (in English, Spanish, and Spanglish) over and over, stressing the part about "this ID is not valid unless this person is currently a student," etc. Finally, another woman came over to argue with us solely in English. I politely (well, as politely as my offended self could) gave her our cards, and asked her to read it. Out loud. I wasn't taking no for an answer. Half an hour later, with lots of sorries on the part of the officers, Alex and I trudged back to the bus, out of 140 soles each. Seriously. This ruined a good 45 minutes of the trip for me. Alex, however, while upset by the situation, was entirely amused by my display. So that out of the way, let's move on.

The first site was Pisac, which has lots of agricultural terracing and a winding path through a small village at the very top of a mountain. If you are brave enough (as in you are prepared to sweat a little, breathe a lot, and strain your legs), you can make it all the way to the top of the mountain to the highest located little thatched-roof house at the top. It's quite a breathtaking view from there. This village was apparently host to several hundred Incan farmers during the Incan reign, and provided a good deal of the food that all Incas consumed.

Afterward, we drove an hour through the countryside (mountainside?), examining various cultural traditions of house building and decorating, agricultural terracing, and the basic lifestyles of the peoples who made their homes here. It was quite rustic and beautiful. It reminded me a lot of rural India, with traditional music filtering out of adobe windows, brightly colored clothes hung out on lines, small farms with cows, sheep, dogs, and alpacas wandering about, and little storefronts with brightly painted signs beaming from here and there. Also, an interesting thing about Peru is that political advertisements are painted on the sides of houses. I'm not sure who does this or how it works, but every other house has the name of  a political candidate from the past election (which took place on June 5) in brightly colored letters on a stark white background. Even out here, in this very rural setting, the houses were awash with political advertising. It made for some interesting scenery.

Anyway, an hour later we stopped at La Jacaranda buffet, where we had cinnamon and clove tea and ate a lunch that mainly consisted of tomatoes, cucumbers, and frijoles (not that there wasn't other food, but the majority of it had lamb, pollo, or carne, so you know...off limits for us). After another long drive and tour of various rural villages we arrived at Ollantaytambo about another hour later.

Ollantaytambo is a medium sized city built on the original Inca foundation. Most of the houses still have walls made by the Incas! This place is AMAZING. Grain storage facilities were built on the sides of cliffs (quite literally) and we got a glimpse of where the Incas discovered the imagery for their primary god. Here is where the Earth temple is located--but only halfway built, because during its construction the Incas had to stop in order to fight the Spanish. Anyway, after a daunting climb of who knows how many stairs straight up the side of this mountain (which is even higher than Cusco!), we arrived at the top of a very beautiful architectural site. Below we could see the farms that we had just spent an hour driving through, stretching across the valley below as far as you would be inclined to look. In the city below the local people were beginning a cultural festival, and we could hear the music and see them in their brightly colored, traditional outfits. Ollantaytambo is, by far, one of the most beautiful places I've seen.

However, Chinchero was quite an amazing site as well. Unlike the previous two cities, Chinchero did not require walking straight up the side of a cliff. Rather, it was a leisurely walk through a small town, out onto a plateau. The only word that I could think to describe this place is: tranquil. The mountains surrounded us, the sun was falling, shadows drifted lazily across the valley as clouds passed overhead. Children played with their puppies, women sat weaving, the men had gathered to celebrate Father's Day with some local beers...it was so perfect. On the ground were tiny, shriveled potatoes (which I at first mistook for Alpaca droppings). Our guide explained to us that this was the seed saving technique of Andean peoples. During the winter in the Andes the nights and mornings are very cold, which makes the potatoes freeze and literally turn to ice. In the warmer afternoons the potatoes melt. This process, during the winter, causes the potatoes to dry from the inside out, preserving their reproductive abilities and ensuring a plentiful potato harvest for the next year. Pretty incredible, no?  Chinchero is also host to the oldest remaining church in Peru, which still has the original frescoes painted in the early 1600s. It was kind of creepy, but also quite intriguing. The most notable thing about Chinchero, though, is its textiles. The people of Chinchero still wear traditional clothing, always, and maintain traditional weaving and dying techniques. We actually got to see how these clothes were made, from the wool of the Alpaca, to the process that makes it into thread, to how to dye the thread a variety of different colors (black, red purple, yellow, etc.). Afterward, we were enticed by the local market with various sellers promising good prices, only for us. Alex and I did manage to buy some high quality chompas for a little bit of a deal. Thinking about Chinchero now leaves such a peaceful taste in my mouth. It was such a wonderful place.

Afterwards, we headed back to Cusco, passing by Salkantay and seeing the outline of Veronica (yes!) in the distance. I can't really remember what we did afterward--I was entirely exhausted, but the day was quite amazing. 

Endless fiestas

I forgot to indicate that I did in fact acquire my bag from the airport finally. I had gotten a ride with the apartment-keep, Javier, to the airport to attempt to get it, only to find that the Taca Airlines counter was closed. Taking a taxi there the next day, I found out that they had in fact left it with LAN, another airline. But alas, the end to that whole frustrating mess.

Otherwise, we have been continuing exploration of the grand ol' town of Cusco. There have been endless parades, starting last week. For every day, every possible permutation of combinations of cultural performances by any and all Cusco institutions have and will take place. Tomorrow, the quasi-Catholic celebration of Corpus Christi will take place, only to be outdone by the festival of Inti Raymi. This is the hugest party of the year, a sort of pageant that takes place at nearby Sacsayhuaman. It is an attempt to reenact the traditional Inca festival that asks the Sun to return towards the Earth to warm it again, obviously with some modern twists due to the multi-century Spanish imperial presence.

Indeed, Cusco strikes an interesting balance between cultural celebration and straight up party mayhem. There are a bijillion discotecas, bars, and restaurants to choose from when you get tired from the parade. One interesting one down the road from where I am staying is a multi-level lounge called the Frogs, which we have taken quite a liking to due to the decor and friendly staff. Happy hour is ubiquitous, and one can get a 2 for 1 on some standard and some local specialties. For example, the Macchu Picchu is a temping cocktail that is a 3-stripe rainbow experience that is quite delicious for the first red and yellow layers. All of a sudden, blam! Straight up mint liqueur, which I suppose leaves you with minty fresh breath, but is less than pleasant. Another local specialty called a Pisco Sour involves pisco, orange bitters, lime, and egg whites. Haven't tried the full version yet, but sans egg whites is quite tasty. I'm currently feeling kind of ill, nothing too serious, but I have absolutely no appetite.

Last Sunday, we had an excellent day-long whirlwind tour of the Sacred Valley near Cusco. We explored 3 different Incan ruins, which held religious, agricultural, and political significance for the Inca Empire, which was centered around Cusco. There is still a lot of Incan architecture present in much of Cusco, and many other towns as well in form of mortar-free lithic foundations in a variety of styles. The means by which they extracted, shaped, and transported such stones is quite impressive. For example, at Ollantytambo, there is an alter at the very top of a terraced hillside that makes the religious sector of town. The stones used there are enormous, and were dragged without the use of the wheel from a hillside quarry on the opposite side of the river that lies at the bottom of the valley. Indeed, the Inca were expert engineers, astronomers (or -ologers), and agriculturists. The terracing is quite impressive, as it enabled the growing of many different types of food along the stark change in elevation. The town of Ollantytambo beneath the ruins consists of 30% Inca structure. Many Inca settlements, particularly with religious significance, were designed in the shape of significant animals, such as llamas, condors, pumas, etc. On the hillside facing the temple-terrace area, there is a structure built onto the mountain that acted as a storehouse. Due to its placement, the wind would have assisted the already dry climate in preserving food. Any way the Inca went would have been uphill, so they must have been beastly fit. Pisac included a lot of small tombs in a hillside. The Inca had quite interesting cults around the mummies of their dead kings. They would parade them around, possibly representing different political factions, and treat them with great luxury. Considering how much trouble I have carrying my own self around these high mountains, the Inca must have been on some other kind of stuff.

I had 10 hours of Spanish lessons the first week, and a grand total of zero this week, but I'm still getting plenty of practice. I think I'm going to switch my program to just taking Spanish classes concentrating on medical vocabulary. I spent the previous week's mornings in the ED of one of Cusco's hospitals, but I had so much trouble with communication and not being allowed to do much of anything, that I think this would be a better alternative. The medical facilities are dark and cold, so I can't say I mind terribly. I'll find out at the beginning of next week what I'll be up to. The week after, we'll head out to the rainforest, and then its Machu Picchu!

Más y Menos

Cusco is an interesting city. Walking down the street will introduce you to many many different smells, colors, sights, sounds, people, etc. It's not quite like India--you won't see ANYTHING possible, but you will see a lot. For instance, women in trajes tipicos (traditional wear) holding adorable baby sheep and other animales--yesterday I walked past a woman walking her alpaca up the street, for example--also there are children offering a variety of services--shoe shining, hair braiding, etc.--Daewoos of all different colors, all from the early 90s zooming everywhere, nearly running you over on the 1 foot or less wide sidewalks, etc. etc. Friendly waitstaff wait outside of restaurant doors to entice you in, women sit on the side of the street selling their amazingly beautiful wares, artists (mostly men, but we did talk to one woman today) walk around offering their paintings, and musicians are set up everywhere playing all sorts of live music. It's sort of like a festival everyday, as Doris says--siempre, siempre, siempre fiestas! On the weekends, at least for this month, there are huge festivals. On Sunday last week, after we arrived, Heidi and I ended up in the midst of a crazy festival with thousands of people (literally). We couldn't even walk through the Plaza del Armas for the crowd. But it was beautiful. Inti Raymi will be June 24, and from what I hear-tell, it's CRAZAY. So, I'm looking forward to it. Also, there is a Pink Floyd cover band that night at a fancy discoteca y restaurante called "The Frogs."

Today however, Heidi and I spent the evening walking through the local market. It was something. Pig heads and slabs of half cut, uncut, or freshly cut meat laying around everywhere. Vegetables of every assortment. Fruits beautifully arranged. Medicinal herbs that smelled so pungent it was difficult not to become ill walking past them. Restaurants, cakes, and nata (milk fat). Ponchos, chompas, y mas ropas. Venders shouting in the universal intonation of the market seller (verduras, verduuuras, verdurraaaaaaass). Quite wonderful, really. After our Spanish class and market adventure we went to meet Alex at our nightly meeting spot (McDonald's of all places) and were harassed by several shoe-shining children. It started with "Quiero McPollo Jr. en mi estomagoooooooo por favooooor." After having a decently long conversation with them about the shoe shining industry, about what they did during the day, where they were from, etc. and after they pulled out some fake crying (while simultaneously laughing), Heidi and I bought them tres McPollo Jrs, tres papas fritas regulares, y tres Inka Colas. They were quite happy and told us that we are good people, which completely made it worth it. Afterward, we had pizza with Alex. In Cusco, just so you know, pizza is an extravagant meal. If you want to take your lady out somewhere fancy here you take her for pizza and wine. For the record, pizza is pretty expensive here. When we told our Spanish teacher that you could get pizza in the US for only $5 she was completely amazed. ALSO the pizza place we went was so fancy it actually had heating (it is one of the like...6 places in all of Cusco that is warm at night). Anyway, it was pretty good. Also, I discovered that there is a chocolate museum here!!! You can even make your own chocolate AND tour an organic, fair trade chocolate farm!!! So sometime in the next week I plan to indulge in such adventures.



Anyway, the original point of this post was to make a list of the pros and cons of Cusco. So, here's what I have discovered so far (we'll start with cons):

Cons:

• Either absolutely no hot water for showers or water so hot it burns your skin off. But, hot water is rare. AND if you want hot water in one of the rare showers where you can find it, then you can only turn the water up to a bare trickle. Which requires lots of maneuvering to even get wet. So yeah. Freezing cold showers 90% of the time.
• Everything is uphill somehow. EVERYTHING. And by uphill I mean 45 degree angles of steepness...both ways. I can walk maybe 10 minutes at a time before having to stop from complete cardiac exhaustion. And I am pretty freaking fit. 
• The sidewalks are 1 foot or less wide. This is not helpful when light poles the size of the sidewalk are placed in the middle of said sidewalks. Also not helpful when hordes of tourists are all trying to make it both ways down the street at the same time. Just sayin'
• There is no heat in Cusco (except the maybe 6 places as mentioned before). Seriously. No heat. And it's winter. I mean, yeah, it's hot during the day but it gets down to like 28 degrees at night! Interestingly, all restaurants have wood-fired stoves. Why do people not have these in their houses for heat? 
• Diesel. All cars are run on diesel here. Diesel makes the already-thin 11,000 ft altitude air even harder to breathe. This, in turn, makes walking up those hills (cliffs?) that much harder. Thank you diesel Daewoos. 
• I can't work the keys in this city. No matter how much I practice, I cannot open a door with a key. Maybe that's me, but I'm blaming it on Cusco. 
• Disorganization. It's perfectly okay to say something but mean something else, not show up on time, not communicate important information (such as, say, when we start volunteering or where), etc. etc. It's making me a little crazy. However, I'm pretending its good for my character and a test for my patience. 

Despite these cons, there are lots of pros too:
Pros:

• The people here are extremely friendly. Anyone will have a conversation with you, help you go where you need to be, tell you what's good to eat, what's good to buy, etc. etc.
• The city is amazingly beautiful. At night the lights illuminate the mountains as far as you can see. It's amazing. And the architecture is so incredibly intricate!!
• The food here is pretty delicious. Also, it's very interesting. Not to mention, it's incredibly easy being vegetarian here. 
• The market!! The market is AMAZING! I mean, real food produced by real people who actually freaking care. It's wonderful. 
• Bartering. You can get things for cheaper than their given price. 
• Juices! Mango juice, peach juice, pineapple juice...all freshly made and readily available. It's pretty fantastic.
• Alpacas, puppies, and baby sheep in the street. I mean, it's constant cuteness. 
• Festivals! Colorful, amazing festivals with tons of music, tons of food, traditional dancing all day and night long, parades, men dressed as Incan warriors, etc.--it's good for the soul!

So, yeah. It will be interesting to see how this progresses. Hasta luego for now!

Tandoori Cuy

I'm sitting in my rather cold Cusco apartment which I have inhabited for the last few days. Thus far, I think it may be one of the more stressful adventures I have partaken in, but I think that is improving steadily in that regard. Starting from Knoxville, the Megabus ride up was fine and uneventful, although our driver seemed to be somewhere on the edge of sanity. D.C. was toasty, and our hostel was not air conditioned. It was a nifty spot though, all bedazzled in myriad trinkets left by expatriates past. Due to the heat, we departed for the airport something like 5 hours early. The airline counter, however, did not open until after we had waited some 2 hours. It was a pretty nice flight though, except that arrival in Lima via Bogota revealed that my backpack had not made it. Not the nicest thing to deal with at 1 in the morning after a long day of traveling, but it made going through customs easy. After waiting several hours for the airline counter for the flight to Cusco to open, we finally departed for our destination. Arrival in Cusco was accompanied by a horde of aggressive leafleting by a variety of the (seemingly infinite) tourist companies. Outside the airport, we found Doris, the host of Veronica and Heidi's home stay, to take us to her house. At that point, due to sleep deprivation, everything had become rather surreal, and upon arrival, proceeded to sleep for some 6 hours or so. We ate some lunch and drank coca tea (a local treatment for altitude sickness) afterwards, with some language difficulty from lack of Spanish practice and decent rest. We needed to speak with the organizer of our programs while in Cusco, but up to that point, he did not make an appearance. In fact, on several occasions we expected him, but he did not show up until the day after. This, combined with my lack of baggage contributed to the stressful nature of the journey's start. I was moved to an apartment up the street in the evening, which is quite nicely furnished and comfortable minus the coldness. We finally talked to Pablo, the organizer, on Sunday, where he said he would track down my bag and get us set up for Spanish lessons in the morning. He's an extremely enthusiastic and nice fellow, however, it seems that he is quite disorganized or overwhelmed in the operation of the program. The next day, we had Spanish lessons in the evening, starting at 5. I've had 2 hours a day, which have been decent, though I've yet to get much of any medically-related Spanish. So, the program itself seems a bit flakey, but I think if we stay on top of it, it should turn out fine.

Exploring the city has been extremely fun, and I can't wait to explore more of it and the surrounding countryside. There are so many restaurants, tourist companies, souvenir shops, and street vendors, its ridiculous. Everything is centered around La Plaza de las Armas, where a bunch of colonial buildings encircle a never-ending fiesta, which will apparently culminate on June 24 for a huge festival for the sun. My Spanish has been steadily improving, and some exploration has revealed the vastly more economic options of eating away from the Plaza. Indeed, prices for things in and very near the Plaza are comparable if not more than those at home. Of course, leaving the Plaza also eliminates the convenience of guaranteed access to a small child to shine your shoes, but alas. The first day, I felt a little guilty for eating at an Indian buffet for lunch and pizza for dinner (although both with a local sort of spin). Yesterday I was able to find a huge meal for lunch in a small hole-in-the-wall sort of place for a grand total of 3 soles (around $1.25), and an even huger dinner for 10 soles ($4). The trick is ordering from el menu, which is a list of preset items that can be ordered far more economically than individual entres. Indeed, this is often so economic, that apparently most locals eat out regularly since the cost of buying your own groceries is so comparable that convenience trumps cooking. There are a lot of vegetarian options, and we even found one where I ate vegetarian chicharron, a typical sort of fried meat dish (soy in my case). Also, they make a fine lemonade in Cusco. If you're in the mood for fusion cuisine, the place we ate at tonight (Korma Sutra) serves up a Tandoori Cuy. Cuy is the local specialty of guinea pig roasted with the head left on. We, of course, did not go with that, but a delicious veggie vindaloo instead. Doubtless, eating is the best part of travel.

The Harrowing Travels

Alright. So. I write this as I spend my first night in Cusco. It’s been quite some adventure getting here. Let’s backtrack. One day at a time:

 Wednesday I spent most of the day working on homework so that I could be ahead to prepare for whatever internet disasters may occur whilst traveling/arriving. I typed up short papers, read articles, read books, and so on and so forth. We were expected in Kingsport Thursday evening at 7 so that Alex’s wonderful mother could take us to the bus stop on Friday morning. At around 3:30 or 4 I realized that…well...it was 3:30 or 4. And, of course I hadn’t packed. So I flew into a panicked frenzy of trying to gather what I needed, trying to organize it, trying to clean up after myself as I threw everything in the house here, there and beyond. Once it was arranged (rather, what I would call arranged and a normal human being would call a disastrous pile of ambiguity and mess) I attempted to pack it into my prepared bag: a medium sized backpacker bag that was ideal for my short and averagely small stature. Alas, it would not fit. No matter how many ways I tried to pack it. My ideal bag was useless. So, I moved onto one of Alex’s larger sized backpacks (one that suits his 6’1-ness). And still I could not efficiently get anything in there. While deciding whether or not to throw myself on the floor and cry in pathetic exasperation Alex came to my rescue (as he always does) and neatly arranged my things (arranged in an actually arranged manner this time) and packed them perfectly. (Once I unpack will I ever be able to get this stuff packed again? I don’t want to think about it).  Anyway, so, packing fiasco over, I had to very quickly say goodbye to my beloved animals, hope with all of my soul that all of my house business was in order and head out. The Kingsport adventure was very relaxed, however. Alex’s mother made us an amazing vegetarian Mexican-style lasagna, then we had coffee and homemade blueberry muffins (which were made from fresh blueberries from her garden!) Then we slept (which as of right now, I can’t remember how that feels). So, day one conclusions: slightly rushed, a little neurotic, but not so bad.

Thursday we woke up at the bright, early hour of 7 a.m., showered and headed to Knoxville. There we had coffee at a quaint little coffee shop in the downtown square and then caught the Megabus (at the right time, on the right sidewalk). The next 9 or 10 hours were spent curled up, bumping around and sleeping in the most awkward and uncomfortable positions imaginable. But we made it.

Alex and Heidi take a break right after we disembark from the Megabus

Amazingly, the trek through DC was incredibly simple. We caught a trolley to the metro, rode the metro to our hostel stop, trekked a good 45 feet to a 7-11 and up some stairs to our hostel, and then immediately disposed of our luggage. How uneventful and nice! The hostel was quite interesting, though. It must have formerly been some Victorian mansion or some such, as it was incredibly huge, but no one room was particularly large—rather, there were many rooms which were of average or small size. There was a courtyard in the back with a hammock, tables, a swing, and a very large cat. Throughout the hostel were winding, narrow staircases. Some inside, some outside--all going every which way. It was really quite architecturally intriguing.  The very big, blaring downside was that there was no AC and it was literally in the 90s of degrees of hotness. Our room, with three bunk-beds—a total of 6 beds, two of which housed some Scandinavian women, one of which housed a late-night drinking basketball –loving bro, the rest housed us—had one little window fan. We ignored it at first, because our hunger outweighed the hotness. So we trekked (without our bags) to our favorite 24/7 falafel “stand” in DC and had the most amazing hummus you can find in DC, enjoyed some sit-down time, and relaxed for a few minutes. With the impending threat of rain, and the complete exhaustion we were suffering, though, we headed back to the hostel pretty quickly. 

Miserably hot in the hostel

Where we then realized how miserably hot it was. Despite only having thin sheets on the bed and wearing the most measly, scant amount of pajama clothing I could get away with, I still couldn’t sleep. The heat and humidity were suffocating. So, I mostly just lay there, tossing around and listening to the random screams, yells, hoots and hollers from the various other hostel guests who were partying downstairs and/or watching basketball. At about 3 am basketball drinking fellow, who was sleeping under me, came in. He was surprisingly polite and was as quiet as an intoxicated partying fellow can be, but his clumsiness kept knocking the bed around and kept me awake even longer. At 7 am we were up and at 9 we were out. 

Friday and Saturday really count as one day. Though I think it is still Saturday, I can’t be sure. The haze of this long, long, long day hasn’t cleared up just yet. So, Friday. We trek through the insane DC heat (at 9 am!) with our bags to the metro (you know…all 45 feet away that it is and what-not), ride to meet the bus that will take us to the Dulles (pronounced like Dallas, or like a piece of furniture a Georgia southern belle would own in 1827) Airport. We paid the extremely overpriced $6 per person fare and rode the glorious 45 minutes to the not-so-crowded airport. But don’t let this fool you. The lack of crowds did not make up for the fact that we couldn’t check in for a good two hours after we arrived. Our checkout counter was open—but lacked any staff.

So, we sat on our bags, at the front of an imaginary line for two hours, dreaming of the pizza we would find in the food court on the “other side” once we went through security. Two hours later, we successfully navigated the checking-in system and rushed to find pizza. After passing through security/customs/etc etc (who were surprisingly friendly) we ordered a freaking whole large cheese pizza. Somehow it was magically perfect. Like eating from a pizza stand in New York City. The boarding process for our plane was smooth. AND the plane was entirely on time! (This is the first time I’ve encountered this). ALSO, they gave us heated hand towels, pillows, blankets, two meals and a snack for our 5 hour flight. So if you need to go to South America, Avianca is the way to go. So, 5 hours later and two movies down (Just Go With It and Old Dogs, if you must know), we arrived in the surprisingly warm Bogota, Colombia airport. We were instantly greeted with dozens of adorable labs serving as drug dogs, who were constantly walking around with their quite terrifyingly suited human partners, sniffing around every person, bag, and chair. We were directed down a long hallway, which was unnecessary, as we ended up taking the exact same plane we arrived on, but anyway. We were there for a grand total of 45 minutes (maybe less). So, hola and adios Bogota! We got back on the same plane we arrived on, received more warm hand towels, more food, I ordered some peach juice, and it was pretty spectacular. Two hours later, and only one movie (Due Date) afterwards, we landed in Lima. It was slightly chilly here, but not cold enough to notice. What we did notice, however, was that Alex’s backpack did not make it. Which is interesting, considering that we were on the exact same plane the whole time. Anyway, Alex isn’t me, so he didn’t freak out, roll around in the floor, scream obscenities at people, or act like a fool in any sort of way. I, however, was quite stressed out for him.  I suppose he’s only missing clothes and our hiking poles, but it still is a rather unfortunate situation. He’s riding with a fellow tomorrow to the Cusco airport to see if he can find out any new information, and if they don’t have his bag, I may be likely to have a panic attacking, but I think everything will ultimately work out. But anyway, onto Cusco.

By this time we had been wake for well over 24 hours, and once again, we had to sit and wait in the check-in line for several hours before anyone decided to show up. Then once they showed up they had to set up the ridiculous rope maze that I suppose you’re required to walk through just to make it to the front counter. So, we had to wait for them to very very very slowly arrange their little maze, until some woman who appeared to have some ambition and sense decided it would be easier if we just went in a straight line to the counters, and made them dismantled the maze. So, anyway, we checked in, hung out in some very small waiting room with 17 different overhead announcements occurring simultaneously at all times (in Spanish), until we could board our plane. The flight to Cusco was pretty amazing, though. The sun was up by this point and you could see the Andes Mountains breaking through the barrier of clouds under us.  Their sharp, jagged ridges capped in snow and screaming majestic the whole way there. And then we landed in freezing cold Cusco. Freezing cold. The airport was much more authentic though, with shady taxi drivers following us around asking “taxi?taxi?” and vendors everywhere shoving their flyers into our hands and begging us to buy their wares…it was really quite comforting.  Then we met Doris, who at this point I assume is the head of Heidi and mine’s host family, who picked us up and carted us through the very India-like streets of Cusco to her very adorable apartment. The buildings are all brightly colored with faded patches, construction is half finished everywhere, the streets are narrow mazes of cobblestone with tiny cars zooming every which way around them. Dogs wander about, looking at you with their sad eyes, begging for scraps. Women have set up blanket-shops on the sidewalks and offer their hand-woven hats and sweaters. It’s quite intriguing and there are several breathtaking images.  But, anyway, we arrived at the apartment—Alex still with us—drank some Coca tea for the altitude (we’re at 11,000 feet here!) and immediately passed out for a beautiful 6 hours.  More on our adventures here later.

Cusco!