After such an extended stint in Peru, its refreshing to find myself in a new country and new terrain. Although, Vilcabamba is a major destination for westerners to visit as well as live, you can easily see why. After being here for just one day, I am completely content twith this surrounding area being the setting for my next extended volunteer location. Tucked into the mountains, but still at a relatively low elevation, the valleys here are lush and teeming with life. As I sit here and write this on the porch of my hostel, numerous multi-colored butterflies flutter past the dense forest that is a mere 10 feet away. If one just sits back and listens, you can see and hear the sounds of multiple birds´songs, huge bugs hitting themselves against walls doing their best to recreate the sound of a leaf blower, the large cobwebs of spiders I´ve never seen at the ready to ensnare the aforementioned bugs. This is a place where just sitting and being aware of the natural world around you can rival anything that television would attempt to entertain you with. Although, having abundant life can also cause abundant discomfort, having worn my sandals last night, I counted exactly 40 bites from various creatures all below my ankles. Its has made both of my feet feel like large fleshy paddles of sever irritation, I´m like a junkie whose devil on their shoulder incessantly persuades them to take just one more hit, reach down and inject the pleasurably scratch. The hostel we stayed at last night has small little bungalow type cabins tucked in the vegetation with hammocks on the front porch, complete with free bicycles to check out! That last point, if you don´t know me enough already to know this, is the most exciting part. Yesterday, we tore off down the hill the hostel sits on overlooking the valley the small city resides in, and it was amazing to feel the wind blowing through my close to unruly mane. The feeling of freedom that travel with a bicycle affords oneself is simply unrivaled. Granted, the town is small, but we only needed to agree on a destination to visit next and in a matter of minutes were there. I really think its the best way to explore new locales, and makes me look forward to experimenting with traveling with my bicycle in any future traveling. I can only imagine the joy of visiting Europe again, but seeing every place from the perspective of two wheels. (Brief interruption, a bird whose call closely resembles the sound I´d imagine a teddy bear makes just flew into our clearing)
We visited a small internet courtyard / hut that again overlooked that valley and green mountains, then rode toa nature reserve just outside of town, where I got my first taste of mountain biking since the trip in Huarez was beautiful but the route unfortunately only took us on paved roads. Then topped by Craig´s Book Exchange, whcih was run by an extremely friendly man named Lee, whose literary knowledge seems expansice and he is quick to share. Its really funny down here, how much a book becomes a coveted item between long term travellers. When you have a good one to trade, you make damn sure its for something worthwhile, and the negotiations begin to be like some haggle match of times of yore (did i just write that, shit, i´m too rushed to try and think up some other kind of illustrative imagery...) Lee has an extensive classics section full of writers I´ve been meaning to explore, like Steinbeck and Hemmingway, but being such valued possessions, he only loans them with a deposit, trusting the goodwill of humanity that he will ever see them again. Luckily, I´ll be in the area for a few weeks so I snatched up Hemmingway´s Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises. From reading the back, I think it sounds like something that could really be beneficial for me to take something away from, the main character sounding like someone I could identify with. After a ride to the square at dusk, we enjoyed beers and dinner outside, dessert being a couple of Vilcabamba cigarettes. The box being an over 100 year old man enjoying a cigarette in feference to how long people live here. They are rolled kind of like a joint, very similar to hand rolled cigarettes, and are some of the smoothest cigarettes I´ve enjoyed, I´ll have to keep a look out on how many I smoke. After a tough ride (ahem, mostly walked) up the hill it was time to crash after one of the most contented days I´ve had so far. Today, we meet with a farm worker, and tomorrow we make the two to three hour journey through the national park to see what may be home for the next few weeks.
I have a couple of blogs to write about experiences with leaving Pisco, my dislike of Lima, and my love of Huarez, but jeez it takes so long, plus its weird to try and write so retroactively.
I´d love to include pictures but internet is so slow, I´m going to have to do that retroactively as well...
Talk later, devoted readers (if there are any, let me know, its always nice to know i didn´t completely waste my time with this...)
Mike
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Long busride to where???
This post is kind of old, i wrote it while i traveled to Macchu Picchu, which will have to hashed out in further detail and pictures but at the moment these computer´s I´m using are utter shite... (prounouncing in my head Shy-ite, cause i like it better that way..)
So me and my companions have discovered the cheapest and sometimes easiest, due to sold out buses, way to travel around Peru. It does require, however, a certain tolerance for the lack of comforts other methods can boast. Basically, we´ve begun taking the cheapest, less gringoest bus lines possible. We decided on this after more luxurious, expensive lines were sold out and we wanted to keep moving, not having to waste another day in the desert. The seats are more cramped, there are no bathrooms, your to suppose to ride them at night for safety reasons, AND they´re about 30 - 50 US dollars cheaper and not sold out. Even with a bad case of traveller´s stomach (to put it nicely) for the last week, I can handle these minor discomforts (most of the time...) The one thing that is beginning to get on my wits end are the salesmen. On every bus, right as it pulls out of the station, a Peruvian stands up and begins a rehearsed spiel to his captive (literally, not figuratively) audience. PIcking small pieces from what i understand, its always being sold for their family or sick mother, and it very well well could be, i´m not trying to be insensitive, but they go on and on for 20 to 30 minutesbefore finally passing around what they are selling. Some are salesmen in cheap suites peddling some kind of miracle health product. "Cures foot odor, healthy hair, gives you an erection, while cleaning your teeth ALL AT ONCE." (I like to make up what it does since i can hardly understand anyways...) The one standing over me right now has a suitcase with a speaker in it, so no matter where he walks on the bus the speaker is blaring in my ear. Between concentrating on my rioting intestines and not trying to throw this suitcase out the window over the huge gorge I worry we´ll fly off at any moment, i think this will be a long ride. (everyone likes to jabber about bus rides in the Andes and how crazy they are, but i must say it definitely lives up to its hype, not for anyone afraid of heights at all, ahem, yuri) We´re taking the "back way" to Macchu Picchu, it sounds like quite an adventure (note: it seriously was, I´ll need to come back and reedit the experience with pictures for further detail, definitely my top 5 craziest things i´ve done, now i guess i´ll move over to the past tense, or oooh, i wonder if it will be more fun to continue my overuse of parentheses and write along with my expectations and the actual reality...) One of our fellow volunteers recommended it, We take a local bus to a town near Agua Calientes (near is such a relative term, by near its a tiny little one road town somewhere in the jungle, still 2 and half hour drive away followed by another 2 and half hour hike, the local bus went through so many different landscapes and took 7 hours, and yes, i had to go poo that entire time. We saw crazy glaciers and highlands that reminded me of something i´d see in Scotland or something, then broke into a valley down the steepest, windy road that was completely jungle, while we were driving down we were passing people clearing landslides, driving over landslides, meanwhile, its rainy season and more rain is accumulating on the hills looming above us. One of my companions foolishly says, "well at least there´s tarmac" (or pavement, sorry he´s European) and shortly thereafter, the bus starts lurching and bouncing. Yup, adios tarmac. Once in the heart of the jungle valley, the bus breaks down, no word from the driver, we just stop, and wait... on a full bus... in humid heat... and they dont open the door to let people out, people finally start climbing out the windows to try and relieve their bladders, I waited for the door to finally open, climbing threw small windows would put a squeeze on my torso that could end disastrously, but with such a crowd present, wasnt willing to do the squat my body so desperately needed. After about a half hour, the bus begins moving again, almost leaving a couple stragglers behind. All the while we are wondering if the bus will get us there in time to make the rest of the journey to Agua Calientes, or if we might just lose another night in Santa Maria.) Once there, we take a taxi to a hydro-electric dam, (now, its funny how my western upbringing interferes with how i picture the description of something, i imagine a gentle glide into a bus station, we get out, have a stretch, a bite, i get something to eat and a visit to a W.C., get in a taxi, who knows, maybe even in a yellow one, for a 15 minute jaunt to a large feat of engineering, and we take a stroll the rest of the way... In reality, its just a small town, no bus stop, middle of jungle, the bus stops just long enough for us to get off and continues on its journey, having taken so much longer than expected, we jump immediately into a combi (like a Matatu in Kenya, just a van that can pack in people) with other diehard travelers, and left in such a rush we had time to buy bread rolls and mangoes to enjoy mango sandwhiches on our hike, and yes, no bathroom break) Now if the first bus ride gave me the heeby jeebies, than i must call my past self a snibbling wimp. Here we are packed into bus to the brim, off-roading on the dodgiest of dirt roads, the driver beeping the horn at every corner to announce our presence as we careen around the corner, in a heavy rain, cause after all, it is a RAIN forest, without windsheild wipers, our driver would periodically get out and wipe it off with a small rag, just so it could get completely covered by the time he shuts the door. At one point a piece of the road was covered with a landslide, and it was slanted towards a cliff right over a rushing river. The driver stops, considers his choice for a moment, and guns it over the pile in the road, i happen to be in the window seat facing the cliff, and without having to look down, i sit and look at the speed of the water that i am facing as our van is tilted from the rocks. Escape plans and where the current would be best used to find the shore begin flashing through my head, if i´m still conscious after the roll... Obviously the suspense is kind of weak, cause otherwise i wouldnt be here writing this to you. We arrive safely, the entire time telling myself the driver does this everyday, he knows what he´s doing) Hike up the train tracks to Agua Calientes, (this was most pleasant part of the trip, hiking through the jungles getting some physical activity, however, the toilet paper in my pocket is completely soaked, and i was unwilling to pop the needed squat and use leaves...) the whole hike was glorious, as it was dusk, and the at the end of the 2 and half hour walk, completely pitch black, pouring rain the entire time... we were fine until the damn Nederlander that brought us on this whole affair says, "wow, if i wanted to rob some tourists, this would definitely be the place that i would wait." KNIVES OUT EVERYONE... we walk the last half hour of the hike, knife in one hand, flashlight in the other, scanning the tracks. Anywhoot, we get to the city allright, i rush to my glorious porcelain god, and eat Pizza and Mojitos to celebrate and promptly go to bed for Macchu Picchu in the morning...
P.S. The reason for my carefulness with anything concerning my body, Seido, my fellow traveler reminded me to include while i wrote this, was that the previous night i had a little accident having to do with the same situation with my digestive track, or: I shit myself okay, fine, i´ll admit it, could happen to anyone, actually the more public the news has been, the more encouragement you recieve from those with the same experience in Peru, i guess its really not that rare for us Gringos... I do however think i am a level 10 degree master of bowel control after this trip, confirmed by my 2 travel amigos.
So me and my companions have discovered the cheapest and sometimes easiest, due to sold out buses, way to travel around Peru. It does require, however, a certain tolerance for the lack of comforts other methods can boast. Basically, we´ve begun taking the cheapest, less gringoest bus lines possible. We decided on this after more luxurious, expensive lines were sold out and we wanted to keep moving, not having to waste another day in the desert. The seats are more cramped, there are no bathrooms, your to suppose to ride them at night for safety reasons, AND they´re about 30 - 50 US dollars cheaper and not sold out. Even with a bad case of traveller´s stomach (to put it nicely) for the last week, I can handle these minor discomforts (most of the time...) The one thing that is beginning to get on my wits end are the salesmen. On every bus, right as it pulls out of the station, a Peruvian stands up and begins a rehearsed spiel to his captive (literally, not figuratively) audience. PIcking small pieces from what i understand, its always being sold for their family or sick mother, and it very well well could be, i´m not trying to be insensitive, but they go on and on for 20 to 30 minutesbefore finally passing around what they are selling. Some are salesmen in cheap suites peddling some kind of miracle health product. "Cures foot odor, healthy hair, gives you an erection, while cleaning your teeth ALL AT ONCE." (I like to make up what it does since i can hardly understand anyways...) The one standing over me right now has a suitcase with a speaker in it, so no matter where he walks on the bus the speaker is blaring in my ear. Between concentrating on my rioting intestines and not trying to throw this suitcase out the window over the huge gorge I worry we´ll fly off at any moment, i think this will be a long ride. (everyone likes to jabber about bus rides in the Andes and how crazy they are, but i must say it definitely lives up to its hype, not for anyone afraid of heights at all, ahem, yuri) We´re taking the "back way" to Macchu Picchu, it sounds like quite an adventure (note: it seriously was, I´ll need to come back and reedit the experience with pictures for further detail, definitely my top 5 craziest things i´ve done, now i guess i´ll move over to the past tense, or oooh, i wonder if it will be more fun to continue my overuse of parentheses and write along with my expectations and the actual reality...) One of our fellow volunteers recommended it, We take a local bus to a town near Agua Calientes (near is such a relative term, by near its a tiny little one road town somewhere in the jungle, still 2 and half hour drive away followed by another 2 and half hour hike, the local bus went through so many different landscapes and took 7 hours, and yes, i had to go poo that entire time. We saw crazy glaciers and highlands that reminded me of something i´d see in Scotland or something, then broke into a valley down the steepest, windy road that was completely jungle, while we were driving down we were passing people clearing landslides, driving over landslides, meanwhile, its rainy season and more rain is accumulating on the hills looming above us. One of my companions foolishly says, "well at least there´s tarmac" (or pavement, sorry he´s European) and shortly thereafter, the bus starts lurching and bouncing. Yup, adios tarmac. Once in the heart of the jungle valley, the bus breaks down, no word from the driver, we just stop, and wait... on a full bus... in humid heat... and they dont open the door to let people out, people finally start climbing out the windows to try and relieve their bladders, I waited for the door to finally open, climbing threw small windows would put a squeeze on my torso that could end disastrously, but with such a crowd present, wasnt willing to do the squat my body so desperately needed. After about a half hour, the bus begins moving again, almost leaving a couple stragglers behind. All the while we are wondering if the bus will get us there in time to make the rest of the journey to Agua Calientes, or if we might just lose another night in Santa Maria.) Once there, we take a taxi to a hydro-electric dam, (now, its funny how my western upbringing interferes with how i picture the description of something, i imagine a gentle glide into a bus station, we get out, have a stretch, a bite, i get something to eat and a visit to a W.C., get in a taxi, who knows, maybe even in a yellow one, for a 15 minute jaunt to a large feat of engineering, and we take a stroll the rest of the way... In reality, its just a small town, no bus stop, middle of jungle, the bus stops just long enough for us to get off and continues on its journey, having taken so much longer than expected, we jump immediately into a combi (like a Matatu in Kenya, just a van that can pack in people) with other diehard travelers, and left in such a rush we had time to buy bread rolls and mangoes to enjoy mango sandwhiches on our hike, and yes, no bathroom break) Now if the first bus ride gave me the heeby jeebies, than i must call my past self a snibbling wimp. Here we are packed into bus to the brim, off-roading on the dodgiest of dirt roads, the driver beeping the horn at every corner to announce our presence as we careen around the corner, in a heavy rain, cause after all, it is a RAIN forest, without windsheild wipers, our driver would periodically get out and wipe it off with a small rag, just so it could get completely covered by the time he shuts the door. At one point a piece of the road was covered with a landslide, and it was slanted towards a cliff right over a rushing river. The driver stops, considers his choice for a moment, and guns it over the pile in the road, i happen to be in the window seat facing the cliff, and without having to look down, i sit and look at the speed of the water that i am facing as our van is tilted from the rocks. Escape plans and where the current would be best used to find the shore begin flashing through my head, if i´m still conscious after the roll... Obviously the suspense is kind of weak, cause otherwise i wouldnt be here writing this to you. We arrive safely, the entire time telling myself the driver does this everyday, he knows what he´s doing) Hike up the train tracks to Agua Calientes, (this was most pleasant part of the trip, hiking through the jungles getting some physical activity, however, the toilet paper in my pocket is completely soaked, and i was unwilling to pop the needed squat and use leaves...) the whole hike was glorious, as it was dusk, and the at the end of the 2 and half hour walk, completely pitch black, pouring rain the entire time... we were fine until the damn Nederlander that brought us on this whole affair says, "wow, if i wanted to rob some tourists, this would definitely be the place that i would wait." KNIVES OUT EVERYONE... we walk the last half hour of the hike, knife in one hand, flashlight in the other, scanning the tracks. Anywhoot, we get to the city allright, i rush to my glorious porcelain god, and eat Pizza and Mojitos to celebrate and promptly go to bed for Macchu Picchu in the morning...
P.S. The reason for my carefulness with anything concerning my body, Seido, my fellow traveler reminded me to include while i wrote this, was that the previous night i had a little accident having to do with the same situation with my digestive track, or: I shit myself okay, fine, i´ll admit it, could happen to anyone, actually the more public the news has been, the more encouragement you recieve from those with the same experience in Peru, i guess its really not that rare for us Gringos... I do however think i am a level 10 degree master of bowel control after this trip, confirmed by my 2 travel amigos.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Reflections on my Experiences
Sitting here on my last night in Pisco, I can´t help but be forlorn and sad. Its really strange how, in the midst of such a horrible tragedy, you can so easily forget the experiences that people had to go through. We have such a wonderful time helping the people, but I think I sometimes forget that I am living in a disaster zone. Often, on many mornings our leader gives us the instructions, ¨We are going to take these rocks, move them over there, and, uh, try to not to get hurt and die.¨ But when you begin to sit back and think of what this was, why you are here its terribly heartbreaking. On our last day of doing rubble removal, we were working with a lovely family. They had brought out their speakers and radio, and blasted classic 80´s tunes and rock songs the whole time we worked. Me and my fellow workers danced on top of the piles that we were moving, and afterwards the family had brought us a whole tub of ice cream and hot chocolate. It was AMAZING, Awesomely amazing, and i think they really enjoyed looking at us have such a great time. Then the 13 year old kid who was on crutches, who i just assumed must have gotten hurt at Futbol practice, showed us a newspaper article that he was on the cover of. It showed his leg, completely mangled, and little skin left, i can easily place it on the top 3 list of most disturbing things i had ever seen, and proceeded to lift up his leg and show us the large contraption and pins that were holding it together, and there was a piece of his hamstring completely missing. I did everything i could to hold back the tears that i felt welling up inside of me at the sight of it. He was smiling and was having fun showing it off to us, but it was another moment that i have had on this trip where the overwhelming realization of it all catches up to me. I was later comforted by my friend who works in physical therapy though, saying that it made her happy to see that he was able to move around like he was, and that after seeing the newspaper picture, that he even still had a leg, and survived the ordeal. It was just an interesting realization, and now i am looking at pictures before i leave, seeing this for what it was and trying to let it sink in....
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)