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.

This is the Bahia that Im living in for now.... Arraial D'Ajuda

I've been in Bahia for 5 days now. And it is beautiful. Here's what it's like.

Arrail D'ajuda is a small beach/tourist/fishing town on the coast. It is sunny and unbelievably hot out every day. There are lots of tourists, but not as bad as florianopolis. All of the people that actually live in Arraial know each other.
I've also been doing capoeira every day with my group here. In fact, I've been taking classes with the mestre of Sul da Bahia. And you know what? Everybody here knows what Capoeira is.
Today I bought fabric so I can have someone make me my very own personal pants for capoeira.
I'm staying in a pousada, a family run motel/bead and breakfast type thing. It isn't nice, but I like it. The couple that owns the place have the pousada, which is also their house where two of their daughters and a niece live as well, and also have a restaurant that one of the daughters runs. Two of their daughters got married to foreigners... one moved to california and the other moved to Italy.
Last night after capoeira I didn't want to do anything, so I sat in the living room and watched the butterfly effect dubbed over in Portuguese... that movie is weirddddd.
Yesterday as I was walking around I was watching two guys carying 5 foot-long fish into a store that sells fish (I dont think theres a name in english... maybe). Before that, I sat down behind a church to look out over the ocean and this guy selling hammocks and I started talking. He saw that I had an infected blister on my foot and recommened I get some stuff from the farmacy. Later, he accompanied me to go get it since I wasnt quite sure what he was saying.
There's this one street that, at night, street vendors set up stands and make all different types of alcoholic, tropical drinks and smoothies for 5 reais.... about 3 dollars of fresh fruit and a little too much vodka, which is perfect.
I'm never in a hurry when I walk around here. In fact, I usually walk as slow as possible. Especially since I have this horrible blister on one of my toes.
Thankfully, since I learned in Limahow tiring it can be just to start a conversation with a boy, I have barely talked to any while I'm here.
Also, I met this really cool girl from Holland.

So, it's all good. I'm very happy.
I didn't really like São Paulo that much... its very modern and business-like and very... I dont know, didn't have what I was looking for. It had huge, air-conditioned shopping malls, with over-priced parking garages and movie theatres playing Hollywood movies. In São Paulo, I felt like I was in any big city in any part of the industrialized world.
Even though I can't speak Portuguese like I can speak Spanish, I found out that I can still have a pretty meaningful conversation with someone and find my way around somewhere I've never been.

I miss all of you who are reading this... see you soooooon.

Im in Bahia...!

Hey everyone.
I made it to Bahia late this afternoon. It was a fiasco, all because I was an idiot and forgot my passport. Here's how it went.

Friday at 7 30 am my flight was supposed to leave for Porto Seguro. Well, I left my passport at Mariahs dads and no one could bring me it. So I had to change my flight. In order to do that, it took me about a half an hour of conversing in Portuguese at 6 30 in the morning about what my options were.
The best and only option within my budget and time frame was change my ticket for the following day at 12 40 for approximately $1oo. Fine. whatever. So I did.
I went back to Mariahs dads. An hour and a half away- 2 bus rides and 3 metro stations away.

Saturday. Get to the airport. Wait in line for 2 hours. Get to the baggage check in at last call for my flight to board. The lady tells me my ticket wasnt changed to go all the way to Porto Seguro. Just to Salvador. Okkkkkk.....
So. Now I cant even get on that flight. However, they sent my bags to wherever bags go after the lady throws it on the conveyor belt.
So I go look to change my flight.
The only option is to pay $50 more. For something that is only half my fault- because I couldnt understand the conversation I was having the day before, apparently!- And leave the following day, Sunday at 8pm. I was n-o-t, not happy. god. I was pissed.
But also, could go put myself on the waiting list for a flight a 3pm to Porto Seguro. Fine.

So, I had to go find out if they had gotten back my baggage. Nope. They hadnt. It was sent off to Salvador. Were I would not be going. The people at the airline told me that they had already sent for my bags to go from Salvador to Porto Seguro.
Thankfully. At the last minute, I got on the flight to Porto Seguro, without baggage, but happy taht I wouldnt be waiting until the following night to arrive.

So, I got to Porto Seguro and of course the people dont have my bags. Which I expected. We are in South America. But Im fine. because its beautiful. Im happy, I found the people I was looking for and I have a place to stay. Also, since I had no luggage, I got to take a mototaxi to the ferry that took me across a river. A mototaxi here is a motorcycle that is a taxi. It made my day to ride on one of those.
Maybe my bag will get here tomorrow. I hope.

Anyways. I can kind of understand Portuguese now. Which is good. I like Brazil a lot. Maybe I will live here someday.

This whole city is dedicated to going to the beach

I am in Florianópolis agora mesmo... as we speak or read or type or whatever.

I am living in a house that is straight out of a Pottery Barn catalogue.
There are:

A lake in the front yard.
An Atlantic ocean in the back yard.
Two very large grassy yards.
Two very large German Shepard watch dogs.

Alright. Thats all for now. More later. Tchauzinho....

First Impressions and a little context

I wanted to give you all my first impression comparisons of Sao Paulo with Lima.
Sao Paulo is clean and orderly. This city has a lot of money. You can drink water from the faucet. People obey the traffic lights. The sky is sunny. Im not getting suffocated by pollution. When we drive through the city, there are nice, new shiny cars. The buses are also shiny and new. People are not honking their horns all the time.
In Lima, the opposite of all of the above is generally true, depending on where you are.
Also, one really special thing about Lima is that you can pretty much get all of your products and documents as knock-offs or pirated goods or fake copies. Easily. without looking very far.
For example(s):
-You always need to check your bills and your coins because there is a very probable chance that it will be fake. Ive gotten fake money before. They do a pretty impressive job though.
-There is a street in the center of Lima called Azangarro where they replicate pretty much anythinng you want done- graduation certificates, identification cards, official letters, whatever. I already have plans of what documents I want fabricated.
- There is a place called La Cachina, like organized buildings, filled with stolen and second-hand goods: clothes, camping and hiking gear, cell-phones, laptops, iPods, shoes, everything. Ive been there. I bought a backpack.

As of right now, it seems like the easy access to a market like the one in Lima is just not as available or as necessary for a lot of the residents here. Because these people have money. But, when I make my final assessment of the black market situation, Ill let you all know.

Now for the context.
Im staying at my friend Mariah's dad's and stepmom's house in Sao Paulo. Mariah goes to school in Madison and was in Lima studying at La Catolica with me. Mariah's dad is a Brazilian who has lived in Sao Paulo for the last 20 some years. Next Monday we are going to Florianópolis to stay on the beach with the family of Mariah´s stepmom for a little more than a week. After that I will be venturing up to Bahia to spend the rest of my time here until I head back to Peru.

Also, when I come back, I hope to have a very very impressive collection of Brazilian music from Mariah's dad, who has one of my favorite music collections Ive ever seen.

"Llora llora cagon, llora llora cagon...

...llora concha tu madre que nunca vas a salir campeon."

Those are the rather inappropriate words to one of my favorite songs we got to sing in la trinchera norte (the section where all the sketch-ball uber intense fans of La U sit) last Sunday during the championship game.
Here's the website: www.trincheranorte.com
And guess what? La U won. we won! But you know what? Somebody said to me the other day (a Brazilian), said he didn't like Peruvian soccer that much because the play so crazy and disorganized. And after seeing this last game, I would really have to agree. I felt like they were just running around the field playing some sloppy sloppy soccer. But it was cool. And I had a lot of fun. And I learned in what contexts it's appropriate to use the insult "concha tu madre"
Speaking of which, I have another story.

This morning, I went to Miraflores to say goodbye to my friend Nina who is traveling and will be gone by the time I leave for Brazil. So, there she- tall and blonde and very fair skinned- and I-very gringa- were walking down the street to go and get some breakfast. And it was apparently a bad day in terms of unwanted Peruvian attention because, by the time we had walked to and almost back from breakfast, at least 4 guys and had made some type of stupid comment. Well, I was really tired (as in I hadny slept very much) and I says to Nina:
"The next guy that says something, I'm gonna walk up to him, and I'm gonna kill him, I swear to God."
Well Nina didn't believe me, but sure enough, 2 minutes later, one of the dudes in a combi a cobrador, says something like "wowwwww........." as we walked past. And, although I didn't kill him, I gave him the finger. And then when he was like, "Oh yeah, me gusta." And so I was like, "huevon!" which is another insult. and then when he kept on with his nonsense, I screamed at him "concha tu madre!" which is, as I said, a rather strong and offensive insult, and with that, everyone who was there on the street turned their heads and looked at me, and the combi drove away, and I continued walking in the other direction. And that was it.

Thankfully, I am in Sao Paulo right now. Brazil. And here, there are black people and white people and morenos and blonde people with dark brown eyes and dark haired people with light green eyes. Which means, I dont immediately look like a gringa. And therefore, I dont feel like a mutant while Im here. Which is one of the most wonderful feelings I have felt in a long time. And people dont pay attention to me at all... it is fabulous. And so is the sun here.

In a week, I will be going to the beach in the South for a week. to Florinapolis. I believe it will be magical. Even more magical than Sao Paulo.

Y dale U!

I'm back with some real stories.
1.
Yesterday I went to my first soccer game ever! And you know which one it was? It was el clasico. It's like the last game of the Peruvian playoffs in soccer. And you wanna know which teams made it? Lima's two biggest teams: La U (Universitario) and Alianza. I belong to La U. Well, me and Coco (a guy, that I am kind of seeing... Coco is the nickname for Jorge) went together. The game was in a barrio (neighborhood) called La Victoria, which happens to be a little (a lot) on the sketchy side. Usually, I'm definitely down for going to those places when I'm with Peruvians but this time, I thought to myself: "What am I doing here? I am going to be the onnnnnly gringa in the whole place." And in the section we sat in, I'm pretty sure I was. It was what you would imagine the student section would be where everyone is standing up and most of the people are young and rambunctious.... Except here, everybody tends to be a little more... a little less affluent than the nice white kids you find at Madison football games. And I'm pretty sure the vast majority aren't in college.
But you know what? Nobody, nobody, nobody said a thing to me. Nobody did anything. Because I was with a Peruvian obviously, but it's crazy because when I'm by myself, even in the fancy smancy places like miraflores, guys are always making stupid-ass comments and whistling at me.
Well anyways, the game was great! I got to sing really fun, vulgar songs hating on the other team. And cheer and eat peanuts and stuff. And I got to marvel at the 14,000 officers from the national police force that showed up to take part in the festivities. Yep. 14,500, to be more precise. They decided to come hang out with their riot gear, horses, ak-47s, cars, and tanks because the violence during games like this in the past has been a little out of hand. There were police EVERYWHERE. and they were serious. They did not take any shit from anyone. But everybody was safe and sound at the end of the day- even the gringas! And you know who won? La Uuuuuuuu!
Afterwards me and Coco and his two friends went to Barranco where we bought some rum and coke and had a celebratory drink or 3. And, since you cant really officially drink in public in Barranco, every time the serenazgo (local police of the district) walked past, one of the guys hid the bottle of rum under is jacket. But on 5th time he walked past, he asked to try a sip of our drinks, and when we were found out, one of our friends pulled out the bottle of rum and invited the officer to a celebratory drink for the victory of La U! And I was like "Ok, let's go." And so we left. And that was it. And then I went home. Safe and happy and a real soccer fan.

2.
The day before that, my friend Mathias (who goes to Madison and just finished studying in Chile) stopped by Lima for about 22 hours. It was great! Me and my friend Nina took him all around Lima to everything authentically Peruvian: drink beers while walking around in public, drink Pisco sours in this fancy smancy hotel, ride the combi a WHOLE bunch, eat chifa (Peru's standardized menu of chinese food available everywhere and anywhere), go to Trapiche and drink super strong fruity drinks from the jungle, and dance to cumbia and salsa and reggaeton, and that's it. The next morning, we ate Chicharron (which is some sort of pork product, the social equivalent of what Bacon is for Americans). And then we said goodbye.
One additional fun fact about that story goes like this:
While we were buying Peru's sweetest, most delicious dark beers in a corner store, I ran into a Peruvian that I had met a week back at a Capoeira workshop. The thing is, this Peruvian was only there at the workshop to accompany a blonde, very gringa looking girl (who was actually from Denmark). Well, at that workshop, when I saw him, the first thing I thought was: "Man!That is a brichero if I have ever seen one!" And at the end of the workshop when I struck up a little conversation with the dude, he was like, "So, why don't you give me your number?" And I was like.... "Uhhh.... no."
Anyways, so here we are at the corner store, a week later, and I see this dude and I think to myself, "Oh man! I can't believe I ran into this guy again." And we were talking and he was like, "I'll be down there selling my artesania... you an your friends should come and talk to me." And I agreed and then we parted ways. Well, we went down there (by the ocean, at like 10pm) and I didn't see him.
But we (me mathias and Nina) stopped on a bridge to drink our beers. Little did I know that at the very second the guy from the corner store would approach us, a big band of 20 teenagers were going to come walking by us gringos without any warning. And so, the moral of the story is, this Brichero that I had met a week earlier, that I ran into at a corner store, effectively saved our asses from getting into quite a messy situation in which we would have been f-ed. He was a Peruvian, brichero angel, probably sent from Maria, madre de Dios, que siempre me acompana.

My semester's over. I'm getting my act together. and I leave for Brazil in 10 days. Things are good. And I feel fine. And the next soccer game of the championship is this Sunday.... Dale U!!!