So ladies and gentlemen I recently celebrated my one year anniversary of living in Bolivia. How did I celebrate? By leaving the country. On the 24th I boarded a bus in La Paz and 13 hours later arrived in Cusco, Peru. There I met up with my partner-in-crime "the Shimon" to explore the city before leaving for a 4-day trek on the Inca Trail. We were accosted by an army of street vendors, discovered a new cucumber fruit, and snuck into some churches (during services so we didn´t have to pay) and museums. Cusco is way more cosmopolitan than La Paz and although a range of good food (and candy bars) were a nice change of pace it was a bit weird to be a gringa tourist again.
On Friday we woke up at the butt crack of dawn to meet our guide and porters and drive to the trail head. I must admit, that starting I was very nervous that I wouldn´t survive the trail, that my little legs would fall off and my lungs would explode. Shimon and I were the only members of our group so our anthropologist guide had time to explain every little thing to us. I swear he could identify every plant on the trail, knew everyone who lived there, and helped me with my Peruvian Quechua (which is different than Bolivia and I´ve since forgotten). The first day he set a very nice strolling pace on the gentle trail. We stopped half a zillion times to take photos of hummingbirds and orchids and learn a bit about the Incas. (Hey Mom...we killed a cochinilla bug!) The villages on the trail have to haul everything in on the trail or by horse. But the tiendas catering to hikers still sold food (Milky Ways, animal crackers, gatorade) that I can´t get in Bolivia. Maybe I´ll tell the tourism guys here that if they sold animal crackers we´d totally get more tourists.
The next day was pretty much all climbing...up to an altitude of 4215m. Shimon left me and the guide (Ebert) behind because our strolling pace was too slow. But Ebert and I enjoyed the opportunity to keep a steady, non-stop, slow pace that allowed us to talk about politics, plants, and my tendency to use Bolivian slang. At one point the guide commented that I was the only one smiling as I hauled my butt up the mountain but after that day I was pretty much sore until a coupla days after the hike. The next day was relatively gentle but a bit boring...it rained a lot. But we did have more opportunity to talk to more of the hikers. It was a bit weird being one of the only gringos more or less conversational in Spanish and people addressed me in both languages.
The last day we set out for Macchu Picchu racing to the Puerta del Sol (Sun Door) to see the sun rise over a view of the Inca site. Unfortunately every other hiking group also left at the same time so it was like a race with people on your heels at all times. It was the fastest I hiked the entire trip and was not entirely enjoyable..especially cuz it was foggy and we weren´t gonna see the sun rise anyway.
We arrived in Macchu Picchu and got a nice comprehensive tour (after using the lovely flush toilets). Every day there is a limit of 500 tourists on the trail and I think 3000 at Macchi Picchu itself. But because we went in the rainy season it wasn´t too full. It´s not really an adventure. You have porters who carry all your crap, set up the tents, cook delicious meals, wake you up with hot tea etc. There is no way you can get lost and the latrines actually flush.
We had two more days in Cusco which was taken up mostly by sleeping and watching the primary results before taking a 10PM overnight flota to La Paz (and then to Coch). Unfortunately the flota was very slow, immigration took forever and we didn´t get to Coch until 11PM the next day. We ate some pique lo macho. I got a vaccine. And then we caught a taxi to Oruro where we met up with a whole heap of volunteers to party and celebrate Carnaval. On Saturday we went to the main plaza to watch all the traditional dancers and participate in a raucous waterballoon-shaving cream fight.
Shimon went back to La Paz and the states Saturday night and due to a lack of buses leaving directly for Tarija, I left for Potosà on Sunday afternoon. Unfortunately I missed my connecting bus and due to an overwhelming urge to sleep in my own bed and see my kitten I paid an arm and a leg to take a very bumpy 4hour taxi ride home.Yesterday I went to my village´s traditional Carnaval celebration (dancing) where as one of the only resident gringos I got pelted with waterballoons. Unfortunately I couldn´t find any of my friends so I left when it got dark to avoid being cold and wet. Today the festivities are continuing but it´s a bit more family oriented.
I´m trying to reflect on how/if I´ve changed after a year here. At the very least I´ve read 60 books (not a change just a lot) a list of which I´ll post eventually if you care. I can say that I have fewer personal space issues, I can sleep in any moving vehicle, and I´m better at talking to strangers.
Feliz Martes de Ch´alla
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