Special for you! Tourism in Peru at its best...

Ciao mi amigos! It is a beautiful morning here in Puno, overlooking Lake Titicaca. It´s been a while since I last wrote, so I must fill you in on the dazzling details. First off, the day before we left Ica, the dazzling oasis where we went sandboarding on spectacular hundreds of feet high dunes, I decided I wanted ceviche again. Now, we were still close enough to the ocean where ceviche was offered at every single tourist eatery in the area. Thus, I did no rationalizing, I just wanted my nearly raw delicious fish I had so enjoyed in Lima only days before! So I order some at a restaurant right on the water that, as Katie and I realized as we began eating our food, meant you pay for the scenery more than a delicious dish. The ceviche was a little more rubbery, but still good enough and these people don´t do the whole returning dishes for something else, and hey, I paid for it, so I ate it like a good little tourist. Now, perhaps we shouldn´t cut to me 24 hours later, keeled over in the bathroom for the entire night before a 9-hour bus ride to Arequipa. I could not keep a single thing down. This is the second time I´ve had major food poisoning in the past three months, the first time was a bit after we returned from Costa Rica, so I´m officially at the point where not only karma, but all of Latin America, is out to get me.

Now, although I am weak, I do not want to miss a single beat, because I am here to do my touristy duties! So I decide that because I am able to leave the bathroom for more than an hour at a time, this makes me fit for good tourism. We go to see Juanita the morning after we arrive in Arequipa. What a wonder she is! 500 years old and she does not look a day over twelve, that little Incan sacrifice. She is still swaddled in the same clothes they buried her on the mountain in, and she´s tucked into a fetal position in her refrigerated home. Her skin, especially her hands, are amazing to look at because they aren´t aged much at all and still bear her skin color and wrinkles. Then, I decided to go see this convent that housed a bunch of rich nuns back in the 17th century, aaaaand, it was boring. There are still current nuns there, which, although I know it´s strange, I always sort of get excited when I see a nun. It´s not an everyday occurrence in Arizona, so they´re fun to stare at. So I thought yay! I get to see where they live! We get it, you have the same sort of living quarters with a very basic bed, a chamber pot, and a little kitchen with a kettle and a hearth. More than I had at the farm, eh nuns? Just kidding, but in all seriousness, I guess as much as I like to pretend I am mature enough to see things like old convents and appreciate them, I´m not. The architecture wasn´t exciting enough to make up for it. I also didn´t see any current nuns. Disappointing. But good on them for doing the whole bit!

So, then I realized I had done far too much walking and was still quite sick, so I took the next day off while Katrina went water rafting. Well isn´t it my lucky darn day that when she returns, she tells me that she just happened to be put in a boat with an entire fleet of Spanish firemen on vacation. Wasn´t that just an extra punch in the gut? No offense to the Peruvian men, but the looks of the locals are none too plentiful. The next day, afraid to miss another tour but still having minor issues, I decide to go to Colca Canyon. This was spectacular, long bus ride, you´ll see pictures. It´s not the Grand Canyon--we went up really high, like, 13,000 feet, saw some condors, alpacas and llamas.

Now, I had inquired earlier about a hospital in Arequipa just in case, but because I thought I was able to complete all of these touristy things, I was certainly getting better right? Off to Puno we go.

First night in Puno? The food poisoning came back full force. The amazingly kind man who manages the hostel I´m staying at made me tea and called hospitals in the middle of the night for me. The doctor came and took me to get an IV for fluids and antibiotics because the food poisoning was throughout my entire intestines, and I could feel those bacteria like a little sea monster in there, stirring up trouble in the bowels of my ship... Sorry, I went there. So I was forced to not go sight seeing that day and given warnings of certain parts of excursions on the islands in Lake Titicaca because of my weakness and the altitude, along with about 7 different types of medicine. Now, a note about clinicas in smaller cities--this one was more like a home. It had two beds in a carpeted room, with a TV with cable. If there had been no TV with cable, I may have not been distracted enough to notice the lake of scrubs or sterile anything. I just said a little prayer about not getting a staph infection, and didn´t even freak out when the nurse, Nelly, missed my vein the first time and just needed one more do-over. When I told them I was hungry, a good sign, they handed me a food menu from the restaurant next door that they also must own. I explained I wasn´t quite ready for the typical Peruvian dish, thank you, do you have some toast?

The next day, I keep on trucking as usual. The antibiotics are working slowly, but food is started to hurt my system less and less. We head to the islands. First, there´s the floating islands of Uros, where there´s 60 of different names, where they live on islands made of reeds as their people have for hundreds of years. Yes, incest was a problem, yes they are taking care of that-- they are only about 5 feet tall on average for the women, and men aren´t much taller than they are. Yes, they have an island for peeing, and an island for pooping. Do they always make it to those islands? No. I saw a little girl hike up her skirt, go number one where she was playing with others, then pretty much sit back down in the same spot. Reeds are very absorbant, I hope. All Western judgment aside, it was still neat to see that such indigenous culture is still carrying on. On our way to the island of Amantani, where we would meet the host family that we stay overnight with, the view is spectacular. Because we are so high, 12,500 feet, the clouds are low and especially puffy and reflect on the water. It´s such an amazing view that I can imagine a spot in heaven looking the exact same way. Now, we get to the island and meet Nicolas, our host dad. He takes us up the 300 meters (you know, the ones my doctor told me NOT to climb) to his home with no electricity, running water, and four adorable little girls and a killer cook of a wife. These people need the extra money, so they give up the little extra room they have, sleep altogether in one room once a week, so that they can house a funny tourist or two and hope that we give an extra gift or tip at the end. Now, I explain that he has four little girls. Aaaand we all know I am a sucker. I end up showing them every video I´ve taken on my Flip, giving two of them bracelets from my arm, and then going and buying them crackers and cookies in the evening. Not to mention that I was their personal donkey for a good deal of time as well. Toys aren´t very common there, but tourists are. After dinner, the mom, Viviana, dresses Katrina and I up in the traditional garb. Again, I will post pictures. You know, they´re just not so becoming on a 5`6" lady like myself. We go to a traditional dance where I last about 20 minutes, and request to go home to bed. Nicolas didn´t seem to mind. Although the tourists more than twice my age jabbed me about it the next morning. That night though, you could see every star in the southern hemisphere because of the lack of electricity on this island in the middle of the lake. There were shooting stars, and off in the distance, there were great lightning storms that we just stood and watched for a while. You couldn´t ask for more beauty.

The next day we went to another island, ate lunch, and headed back off to Puno. The boat broke down two times on our way back. Black smoke, rocking boat, water level hitting the railing next to the window-- you know, call me high maintenance, but I was not on board for this. I asked the tour guide what the problem was and voiced my being a bit scared, where his response was, "Why? The worst that can happen is you die. We all have to die sometime," with a little smile on his face. Hmm, I´m learning that the tourist industry here is not too sensitive and seemingly out to exploit you as much as you are out to exploit the cheap exchange rate. "Special for you," means, "More expensive because you´re a tourist," and if you´re given a deal, don´t worry, you will be charged for it later on in some way. There is a 50% poverty rate, and there are children in the streets begging or doing circus acts at the street lights, and it´s tough to balance out the point between having compassion or being taken advantage of.

So, on a final note, we are off to Cusco today. The antibiotics are continuing to work, and I am better and stronger every day. Inca trail is only a week away, folks! Wish me luck.

Kali

Away from Greener Pastures and onto Pisco Sours...

Ohhhhhh how I miss the simple life already. I spent two weeks on the farm. I had incredible conversations about religion and spirituality with different Hare Krishnas and got to truly sit and eplore myself in a new light. The idea that the body and the mind and soul are all holy and we need to take care of ourselves is a concept that, although is well received, is often ignored. I didn´t drink caffeine or any alcoholic beverages, I did yoga everyday. I woke up at 7 a.m., did yoga, ate breakfast, helped in teh kitchen typically after breakfast, had lunch, then was free to read my books and have a run. I could really get to know the people I was around and everyone was walking around high on life! Ahhh yes, I can remember it so well those five days ago! Leaving was difficult because I knew that my stress was only bound to return with traveling. Immediately as we got into Lima we met new people though. We met one man who we will call Gary. Gary has leeched himself onto us. He´s a lonely Canadian traveler who has followed us from Lima where we still thought he was OK, to Ica., where he has steadily digressed into very annoying and hard to shake off. Ica is a beautiful Oasis in the middle of the desert (Huacachina) and we are staying right on the little lagoon surrounded by sand dunes and blue skies. It is a dream image. Then Gary usually comes in, says something about how me and Katrina should put our bikinis on, adds some odd Star Wars reference, has an opinion and thinks he´s right about everything, dontcha know, eh? Well he sealed the deal last night by thinking a ten year old boy was a sixteen year old girl and still almost hit on him/her. What a guy.
Well, I suppose this is Krishna testing me. See, before I left there were three days of holiday where we made wishes to Krishna by lighting candles made of ghee butter and cotton and waved it around a picture of him and then bowed to the ground before his feet in hopes that they would come true. I don´t think this is the same as a birthday wish, so I will tell you what I wished for: patience, tolerance, and focus, one on each night. So, I think my tolerance level is already disintegrating dramatically. My focus on being zen is going along with it, and my patience is dithering. I have to build myself back up! I think it was all the wine from the wine tasting yesterday that´s put me on edge. After not having a drink for over a month and a half, I sure did overdo it yesterday. Ica is wine region and also Pisco region. Pisco is the local liquor. First off, I don´t often drink liquor. I´m a beer and wine girl if I have a drink and I usually stop myself at 2 or 3. But let me tell you, when you put wine and pisco in tiny little vasitos (little cups) at only an ounce at a time and you drink over 20 of those, you still get drunk! Tiny cups are very misleading. We started off at a beautiful winery called Tacana. This was your typical nice winery with the grape leaves and the tour of the facility and then a sit at a counter where you went through the different types. How nice. Next tour was at a rather less nice facility, same sort of deal though, a bit rough around the edges, but good stuff. Next place was a shit hole, but at this point we´re a bit gone so we are more interested in the look of the taxidermied animals hanging about than questioning why they are there and we drink the wine straight out of the barrel served to us by our crazy taxi driver, William, himself. We finish off the tour by singing, very loudly, Eye of the Tiger, where William pulls a fake microphone out from under his seat and hands it to each of us. Something tells me this scene happens often.
Today when we had to visit some rare bird island, I was a bit Weekend at Bernie´s about the whole debacle. Put my sunglasses on and spin me about with a camera in my hands. There were sealions. Those were nice.
I think I will go meditate now and try to regain that balance that I had just days ago with people that smiled and focused on my soul. I highly recommend an ashram to anyone. Go. I made great friends there and had a little cry when I left because that´s how much I realized I love peace. We made tons of pastries the last day as well. I miss those too.
I am now going off to Arequipa tomorrow where we are going to see the most well preserved mummy, Juanita. In Lima, we also saw the catacombs, and there were bones on the beach by the farm. Along with the taxidermied animals in the winery, I am set on bodies. I will continue to fill you in! Miss you much. Ciao!

Karma Doesn´t Want Me in the Kitchen

The title of this post goes along with a story, of course. So to start off, I am right-handed. Last Friday, after spending the previous day cutting down a lot of dead overgrowth from a rotunda with a pair of pruning shears, I felt very strong. I was told the next day to go ahead and just have the job of helping out in the kitchen. I had been bothering Sidantha, the volunteer coordinator, for days about working in the kitchen because I LOVE to cook. I excitedly go in and start washing some dishes and there´s a cast iron pot--a witch´s cauldron if you will--sitting there that needs washed and I stare at it and go, oh...I don´t know if I can lift that on my own. Then, my tiny little voice in my head says, OF COURSE YOU CAN, KALI! I decided to listen, and lo and behold, I lift the pot up and my left hand slips, my right hand thinks it can still hold it up instead of letting it go and my thumb pops out of place. HOW UNNATURAL FEELING IT IS for a thumb to pop out of place. Immediately, pain shoots up my arm and I start crying in front of my buddy Ramanuya, a funny Hare Krishna whose response after getting me something hot and cold to alternate it with, says to me, ¨Karma didn´t want you in the kitchen.¨ This, which normally I would take very lightly, made me cry even harder. Ah well, today my thumb is already much better and I got to work in the kitchen. Ramanuya pointed out that I have two other scars on my right hand, and I explained that I´ve gotten those from washing dishes also, so he said that in my past life I must have done something mischevious in the kitchen that I´m paying for in this life. I said, ¨This is like a game of Clue! Kali, in the kitchen, with the wash cloth...¨ Karma, take it easy, I´m trying.

Now, today was our first day of clear skies and pure sunshine! We´ve seen the sun here and there, but not for an entire day. Katrina ended up leaving because she needed to go up north for a little more sunshine. I decided to stay just to enjoy the peace. We´ll meet up in Lima by the weekend and then we´re off to do a bit of sight seeing towards the south. I´d like to stop and see the Nazca lines, Arequipa, and we are going to Lake Titicaca before Cusco for the Inca Trail. Until then, I am still a humble servant of the Eco Truly Village. Last night they had a Bhagavad Gita lesson in English for us about sacrifice. I thought to myself, I didn´t go up to the beach and get some hot showers so I could sit here with you fine people...That´s sacrifice, right? Just kidding. No, the showers I´m getting more used to and the food is fantastic. I´m happy just to be in a peaceful place. I am happy that I came here and am learning more Spanish and more about myself every day. Even when I am awoken by peacocks in the morning and I find a piece of mulch from the compost in my pantalones... I feel good inside.
More from the fields later, my friends.

Love,
Kali