I had to climb a mountain to get to Cusco and other adventures.

Hello everyone. (I actually published this today, february 22nd, but started it a month ago)
Im not in Cusco anymore (where it has been (very) rainy season) but this is how I got there when I went a few weeks ago:
It was a sunny afternoon in Lima on January 24th when my bus left at 4 30PM from 28 de Julio and Paseo de la Republica, with an ETA of 2:30PM the following day.
Wellll... 20 hours after departure we found ourselves stopped in the small town of Curahuasi with at least 10 other huge tour buses. We were going to wait a couple of hours to see if the water and rocks spilling down the side of the mountain and over the highway was going to calm a little bit so we could cross over to hop on a different bus... at this point it was impossible for vehicles to go any further.
Eventually, it got dark out and when the people from the bus company and Cusco still had not returned our phone calls, we knew we would not be crossing the landslide and also that there would be no bus waiting for us to drive us the final two hours to Cusco. Rather, we would be sleeping in the bus overnight (or staying in a hostel for those that felt like spending money) until the next day, when we would see if God had performed a miracle and fixed the landslide blocking the only highway to Cusco.
It rained even more that night. God didnt take the landslide away. and no one had returned our phone calls.
We all decided to go check the landslide out since other people in other tour bus companies had found a way to cross the day before.
To our dismay, there was no highway left. Rather, there was a large gap about 15 feet wide from our side to the other, with an almost completely vertical mountain on one side and a furious, raging, muddy brown river on the other. Hmmm. what to do....
Well, hike with all of the other bus passengers to a place where cars could actually get to, thats what! You are probably confused. But thats ok. Its just that, since there were so many lanslides, Cars coming from Cusco could only make it to a little town called Limatambo and not all the way to where we were. Unfortunately, Limatambo was a four hour hike away. For me, that wasnt so bad, but for the old women, pregnant ladies, and everyone else with more than a backpack of luggage (pretty much everyone except me), it wasnt such great news.
But it wasnt the worst news, since 50% of the passengers decided to do it. This is what we had to do to get there:
Hike a steep hike an hour up a tiny, unmarked path.
Hike 30 minutes to get to a village.
Ride 20 minutes in the back of a pick up truck
Walk one hour (this time with a donkey carrying our stuff) through a flooded road, up another hill, and across another plane to another village.
Get our stuff off the donkey
Descend down a ridiculously steep cliff, cross a river, and climb up a cliff to the other side (the path was about 6 inches wide)
30 mintues more and get to Limatambo.
Now this was all fine, but in my group of five people that I hiked with there was a lady who was at least 6 months pregnant and two middle aged women. Also, we passed by countless old ladies and men, and ladies with babies and children. It wasnt really just any old trek on a marked path in a state park, either.
I got to Cusco at 1am where my friend and her dad picked me up and put in a safe place with a warm bed and carpeting.

Cusco was fun. Even though I didnt plan to go to Machu Pichu because I am a party pooper, I couldnt have because it was impossible to get to because of the flooding and the landslides.
I ended up taling to a Canadian a week later who more or less said this to me and my boyfriend:
"Yeah, it has been really hard for our volunteer group. We had planned on going to Machu Pichu but now with everything that has happened, we dont know what we re going to do instead. We re really disappointed and kind of disillusioned."
Well, I bet all of the people whose houses have collapsed, whose communities are in shambles, who are now living in tents and who dont have drinking water, food, or any source of income are also pretty disappointed and disillusioned. Not to mention that their own president failed to mention anything about the natural disaster until 5 days into the whole ordeal. Bummer.
Thankfully, he and I can buy ourselves a plane or bus ticket out of the mess. Or, if you were a foreigner at Machu Pichu, get airlifted out in helicopter by U.S. military forces.

10 days later i left for Puno, a city on Lake Titicaca, the highest freshwater lake in the world. On the bus ride there, we came to a stop and all looked out the windows. there were national police and a bunch of large rocks strewn across the highways. I asked the guy next to me what was going on. He said it was the flood victims trying to block the highway in order to demand help from people passing by on the highways.

I got to Puno. It was cold, cloudy and raining hard. I had to go find a hotel for me and my boyfriend to stay in since the place I though I was going to didnt actually exist. We were there for the festival of the Virgen de la Candelaria. It is another huge party dedicated to a representation of the Virgen Mary. But it is a huge deal. The costumes and the dancing are unbelievably elaborate. And it lasts more than a week. And there is ALOT of drinking.
Anyways. I got there and started to look a place to stay. I found one about three hours later. Little did I know that I little bit of cold rain was going to put my in the hospital... after three days of deteriorating health conditions, not having energy to do anything, and a final night of a horrible cough and bad fever, we decided to take me to the hospital. Which I though was unnecessary. But I figured I had insurance so it couldnt hurt.
Koko (the bf) on the walk there gave me the 411: "Listen, hospitals here dont work the same as you might be used to. In order for a doctor to actually pay attention to you and take you seriously, you have to be really sick. So let me do the talking so they actually help us out."
Ok. thats fine. So he did. Sure enough, everyone tried to convince me it was the altitude. I know its not the altitude, you stupid fucks, I thought. Have you seen my face, listened to me talk, or hack up a lung for the last 5 minutes?
Well, after 10 minutes, they finally started paying attention. A doctor even came in!
The curious thing was, not having run any tests, asked my medical history, or if I was taking any other medications, he told me they would start running tests and also start treatment immediately. Super. Getting treatment for something I may or may not have, but hopefully do have.
After the crazy nurse lady who couldnt stick a needle in my arm the right way stabbed my wrist bone (which made me cry and I felt like a stupid gringa whiny little girl even though she fucked it up and said that "these" senoritas have really difficult veins to work with), I was all settled in the emergency waiting room, waiting for the bf to bring all the medications they sent him to the hospital pharmacy to buy. You have to buy all your medicine. They dont just appear with all the right stuff like at home. And sometimes they run out and you have to run to the pharmacy across the street to buy it. Well he brought everything and I finally stopped crying.
Then, a girl was gasping loudly, and very frighteningly for breath was wheeled in to the same room where we could watch everything that was going on over by her bed. They left her there for 5 minutes. She started screaming. Like really loud, high pitched screams. I thought, "where the hell are all the doctors right now? She is screaming her head off." 1 minute later, someone showed up. 15 minutes later all the hubbub was over. 5 minutes later, I asked the boyfriend, "Whats wrong with the girl over there?"
"She just died," he answered.
"Oh," I said. then after a short pause, "What was wrong with her?"
"Some type of brochio-pneumonia type complication." he responded.
"Hmmmm" I said. That was supposedly what my problem was.
Everybody left the dead girl on the bead, all the doctors left, the bf had to go buy more medication, and I was left there laying in my bed and couldnt stop staring at the dead girl was was slowly but surely starting to turn yellow. They came back 10 minutes later, wrapped her up and wheeled her away.
Finally, one of the nurses came back and said, "I think they are going to hospitalize you" as in, keep me in the hospital over night.
"But it's not serious, right?"
"No, but they just think its better that way."
Well, I ended up staying there with the beginning stages of pneumonia for three days. It wasnt horrible, but it sucked. They forgot to put toilet paper and soap in every bathroom in the hospital but conveniently remembered the wash-your-hands-to-prevent-illness signs. Also, the water in Puno doesnt work during the day.
On day 3 and a half, they let me go. But they wouldnt disconnect me from the IV until we had paid. It was like they were holding my hostage to my hydrating device.
We paid and I left.
The party for the virgen had just ended. I had no energy and we had one day of vacation.
The next day we went to some towns on the southern part of the lake. It was beautiful. We didnt get to sneak our way into Bolivia or go to any islands. But maybe in the next life.

Presently, I am in Arequipa with my stepmom. Since she is a real live, western gringa, we have been staying in the nicest hotels I have seen for 6 months. The first place was a pink colonial mansion. I could hardly believe when I got under my covers and it felt like I was sleeping a a cloud. The water pressure was good. The toilet had a toilet seat. There was cable TV. And it was beautiful. And it was gay friendly. surprising, since gays dont exist here.
The second place was an absurdly gorgeous mountain lodge in the Andes next to a river in the middle of nowhere with its own private hot springs. The guy who checked us in also made us our drinks, served us dinner, and called the hotel dog over for Jodi to see when she wanted to.
Jesus. it was all over the top.
right now, I am back in the pink colonial mansion.
Id say its at least a step up from the hospital room in Puno.
Tomorrow we are going to the beach! If all goes well, I plan on getting mildly inebriated while roasting to a golden brown next to the pacific ocean and fending off inappropriate stares from South American boys.