I'm Back

Got back Sunday, around 3. Slept until Monday morning. Frantically tried to get something put together for school. Didn't do too well. Check back soon for pics and tales of my encounters with 15 foot alligators, bird eating spiders, bats, pirannha, giant sea otters, and, most terrifyingly of all, butterflies.

Trust No Schedule

We´re back from two days in Aguas Calientes, including our trip this morning all the way up to Machu Picchu. As noted earlier, our grand plan was to get there first thing in the morning so we could see the famed sunrise. We checked and double checked and the first shuttle up would be at 6:30.

Dutifully, we woke up at 5:00, despite the fact that we were dead tired from yesterday, and made it down to the shuttle station by about 6:25. We just made it on the first shuttle - we were so excited and blessed our luck. But then, oddly enough, as we´re driving up the mountain on the zigzaggy path that leads to Machu Picchu, a shuttle passes us on its way down. And then another. And another. And another. And ANOTHER! All the while, we´re noticing that it sure seems rather bright and yes, by golly, the sun appears to be just over the mountain tops already. So, yeah, the whole "watch the sunrise at famed Machu Picchu" idea was a great one, but our plan was foiled by improper information. Schedule smedule. Lesson learned: in Peru, don´t trust the schedules.

I mentioned last time that Sunday was their big election. It´s on a Sunday, when it´s a lot easier for people to vote. That makes a lot of sense. And everybody votes. Our taxi driver showed us his purple-tinged thumb as proof. A whopping 22 candidates ran for president. That´s incredible. And everywhere we go, and I mean everywhere, from the city to the smallest little town we pass on the train, there are campaign posters and candidates names written on walls and instructions on how to vote. Absolutely amazing, that in countries like Peru, where politicians are so much more corrupt and ineffective than ours, people really get into the whole political process. They actually participate in their government, whereas about half of us don´t even bother to make it to the voting booth.

Other thoughts:
* If you´re a woman and you want to work for Peru´s official tourist-y professions, like for the airlines or the train companies, you have to be young, good looking, and willing to wear skirts. If you´re a man, well, you just have to be willing to work with women who are young, good looking, and wear skirts.
* Lots of little shops, like those that sell water or snacks and what have you, have calendars in them with pictures of bikini-clad white women. A lot of those calendars are also from 2005. Not that I´m looking.
* Darron´s Law: If I want to take a shower, there will be no more hot water.
* Corollary to Darron's Law: If there is hot water, it will burn me.

Off to the jungle tomorrow, bug spray at the ready.

Machu, Picchu, We All Chu

It took, seriously, like 5 minutes just to log into blogger so I could post this blog, so it had better be a good one, eh?

We are currently in Aguas Calientes, which is a sleepy little town (or so it would seem) nestled at the bottom of the valley where, high up above, lie the famous ruins of Machu Picchu. We´ll be seeing those tomorrow. Our plan is to wake up early and watch the sunrise - from what we´ve been told, if we´re lucky, the sunrise is quite the sight. Optical illusions, such as multiple suns, are in the realm of possibility. Which is quite appropriate, really, because the Inca worshipped, primarily, the sun, and the positioning of Machu Picchu was carefully crafted to get as much sunlight during the day as possible (and the shadows do some interesting things, especially around the equinoxes).

This is our 3rd full day here, though it seems like much longer. That´s not to say that Peru has grown tiresome. Far from it. But time is passing differently here. Saturday, as my previous blog will attest, was spent mostly attempting to recover from what was likely altitude sickness, though the raging fever I had that night is not so easily explained. I felt significantly better yesterday, though, and we had a nice several hour horse ride around some of the more popular ruins of Cusco, including Sacsuayhuaman (did I spell that right?) which, yes, sounds exactly like "Sexy Woman." Pam and I rode our horses, William Wallace and Viento, respectively, from ruin to ruin, conversing with Dario, our very friendly 17 year old guide (rare find = he had never heard of McDonald´s). Our conclusion, at the end of the tour, is that ruins are, well, ruins.

Last night we had a huge thunder storm for about 45 minutes. Thunder and lightning all over the place. The rain drops here hurt. Perhaps they´re thicker? Or perhaps, since we´re so high up, they don´t have much of a chance to slow down.

We woke up early again this morning to take a 4 hour train trip to our present location. We´ve lucked out 2 nights in a row on rooms. Last night, we stayed in a huge, very colorful and clean room with 4 beds and hot water with a balcony. Tonight, we got another balcony with a view of the main plaza.

The food continues to impress and satisfy. The best place so far would be the restaurant we just came from, Indio Feliz. Yes, that´s "Happy Indian." In their logo, the "o" in "Indio" is a smiling indigenous person. Perhaps he is happy that gringos like me have come to his homeland to spend money while admiring the handiwork of his ancestors.

The kids are funny. Many of them remind me of specific students I´ve had, past and present. They´re very enterprising - very persuasive street sellers. I ended up buying a baby llama hand puppet from one girl last night. We ran into her on the street and she tried to get me to buy 5 of them. I told her no. Many times. And she said, well, maybe after dinner? And I said, ok, mayyyyybe. And sure enough, when we stepped back out, there she was, "Dijo maybe!" and so I relented and bought one. Another boy, dressed in traditional garb, was walking his 3 month old llama around, asking people if they wanted to take a picture with it. Usually, this would be accompanied by a small fee, so I asked him how much he wanted for the photo. "Es voluntario." I didn´t believe him, so I said no, since we needed small change for a later taxi ride. Then he asked me for my water. I made him an offer - the water for a photo. And he said no. So I gave him the water. I´m a sucker with a soft side.

Finally, fun "facts" about Peru:
* my most frequently used words during this trip so far: "No, gracias."
* nobody, and I mean NOBODY, has small change. Unfortunately, the ATMs only give out 50 soles notes (about $13) and nobody wants them. The end result is that even though we have tons of money, we have to walk everywhere instead of taking taxis.
* the train to Aguas Calientes is indecisive.
* you have to ask for the bill - otherwise, you ain´t gettin´it.
* don´t be silly enough to ask anyone what an appropriate tip is (me <---- silly)
* you have to bring your own toilet paper.
* don´t buy water at the restaurant - they´ll charge you 3 and 4 times what you can get it for on the street.
* you can get pizza just about anywhere. And french fries, too.
* no alcoholic drinks are sold the day before or the day of elections. Yesterday was the big election, and the "ley seca" helps ensure that voters vote without any influence other than bribes. All people have to vote - if you don´t, you pay a fine!

That´s it. We´re off to the jungle on Wednesday. Ciao.

Soroche is a b**che!

So we have arrived safely after a long, arduous trek that spanned many continents (well, two) and approximately 25 hours of flying and/or waiting to fly and/or sleeping in the airport on an improvised bed of glossy metal chairs.

But we are here. Now, in Cusco, which is approximately 2 miles above sea level. Soroche is what they call altitude sickness, and she´s a tough mistress! Achy head, short of breath, all these things make for a not so fun first day, but we´re taking in the sights as best we can. Pam, however, seems relatively unaffected, mostly because she´s an in shape firefighter/paramedic and her hemoglobin is much better quality than mine.

We stay here one more day, then off to Machu Picchu, then the jungles, and then back again.

Insights so far:
* keyboards in Peru are different than in the U.S. (annoyingly so, but not so much as the French keyboards; you know how those French are)
* kids are well dressed so far. No baggy pants, backwards and sideways hats, mock limps, and other bling.
* mate de coca is a tea made from coca leaves, and yes, you guessed it, cocaine is also made from those leaves! And I drank some. There goes my campaign. Shhhh.... don´t tell anyone (actually, it´s legal, but if Pam drinks it, she may be fired!). The tea is supposed to be a cure for soroche, but I didn´t actually start feeling kinda sick until I drank some!
* dogs roam the streets freely here, much like cats do in Japan.
* food is cheap, and super good!

That´s it for now. Ciao.

Peru

By the time you read this, I'll be, likely, cramped into a very tiny coach seat on a very cramped airplane. Destination? Peru.

The World's Smartest Man

Imagine the world's smartest man. Nothing surprises him, as he anticipates it in advance. He calculates, correctly, the end result of all things. No joke is funny to him, as he sees the punchline coming far before it's delivered. At a party, in a group conversation, when someone utters what they think is a rather novel and witty commentary on life such as it is, creating wide-eyed ooh's and aaah's and chuckles from the rest of the group, the world's smartest man remains mute, staring blankly, for he had already considered this person's epic pronouncement long ago and abandoned it in favor of something that rang more true. Another, trying to be clever, uses a double entendre, and the group smiles knowingly, smiles because they noticed it, smiles because they were clever enough to notice the cleverness, but the world's smartest man's expression remains unchanged. The group, noticing, proceeds to look at him oddly, and the deliverer of the witticism takes it upon herself to explain what she thinks he has missed. But it was not missed - he had seen it coming, and when stated, his mind simply logged his prediction as confirmed.

And so the irony of it all is, that in the end, to everyone else, the world's smartest man appears stupid.

(and though I am *not* the world's smartest man, I am smart enough to anticipate that you, precious reader, may think this to be autobiographical, but in fact, it is only *partially* so. It was a story idea I got while waiting in traffic on the San Mateo Bridge Saturday afternoon. I am also smart enough to know that some of you would revise the final sentence to add "and arrogant"!)