Part 2: In which we Salkantay Trek

I'm sorry. I've been really really busy. I work hard on the documentary and I also started teaching English. I have a million stories to tell but I still haven't finished my January travels. So pretend you're reading this 2 months ago. 

This takes place starting January 18ish. 

Cusco’s a cool city but it’s really a tourist town. When you walk down the streets around the main plaza you’re accosted by people trying to sell you artwork, umbrellas, trips to Machu Picchu, little kids dressed in traditional dress waving keychains, jewelry and trinkets in front of you saying, “Por favor, señorita!” It is also known as a party city with a very strong nightlife culture. We tried to go out one night with our Spaniard friend (his name we will never know) we met at our hostel but we had all been on overnight buses the night before and by 1:30 were more than ready for bed.

Carl update: Carl showed up at the VIP House the day after we arrived. We said hi and he started telling us about his latest mishaps: broken phone charger, lost debit card, trouble booking a tour to Machu Picchu; can we help him with any of these things? Not really. He also mentioned he had tried to check in much earlier in the morning (a bit after we checked in) but there were no rooms. We felt a little bit guilty about taking his room. But not that guilty. The lady at the desk booked him in an open bed in the 10-bed dorm room. Then we checked in for another night. “I’ll put you in the same room as Carl,” the lady said with a wink. Yesssss.

We saw him sporadically throughout the day and each time he was on a mission to remedy some crazy new problem he had. He was very focused. Then when we were attempting to party that night we ran into him at a discoteca and shouted HI above the noise. We saw him dancing with a number of different girls. Good for you, Carl!

The next morning Carl’s stuff was scattered all over the dorm room. He joined us for breakfast and we chatted. When we left the hostel we bid him farewell, never expecting to see him again.

Sarah’s sister Ellie and her roommate Ashley met us in Cusco that day. We switched to a very fancy-expensive hotel (ok, when I say “fancy-expensive” I’m using the words in relation to the other places we stayed. It was $28 a night each for a double room with a private bathroom that had toilet paper, towels, and a shower with hot water. Fancy-expensive.)

We went to the tour agency and paid for our trip and then I spent a good many hours running around Cusco trying to purchase my last minute camping supplies. That night we had our orientation with our tour guide. Our tour guide’s name was Jimmy Jhon. Yes, like the sandwich. At first we didn’t believe him either. But he showed us his legal documents and yup, that’s his name. He explained the trek to us: 5 days and 4 nights through the mountains, through the rainforest, to Machu Picchu. The first night is the highest campsite, the second day we summit and is the hardest, the fourth day we have the option of going to the hot springs, the fifth day we climb Machu Picchu at 5 am. We were a little bit intimidated.

The following morning we woke up at 4:30 and headed down to the lobby to leave for our trek. This is when I noticed my debit card was nowhere to be seen. Losing things as always. (This made the next 3 months of my life rather difficult). Once I finished panicking, we piled into a minibus with Jimmy Jhon, our chef, our horseman, and our helper and headed out to the start of the trail.

Our Guides

1.     Jimmy Jhon: Our trusty guide. He’s young, about my age, but has been a tour guide for about 7 years already. He knows the trail like the back of his hand and is at home in the mountains of Peru. Sometimes a buddy and sometimes a teacher, I would recommend a tour led by this dude. He also speaks Quechua, the native language of the area. He has run the entire trail before.

2.     Timoteo AKA Mr. Delicious: Our chef. He is always smiling. He is also an amazing chef who made us 3 course meals and somehow magically made a birthday cake for breakfast at 13,000 feet above sea level over an open fire on a few hours notice.

3.     Fortunato: Our helper. He’s about 19 years old and never quite knew how to interact with us crazy gringas. One day Sarah walked in on him in the bathroom. After that things were always hilarious between them.

4.     Mario: Our horseman. We didn’t have too much interaction with him. But he led our trusty horses through the perilous trails with no problem. Both he and Fortunato only wore sandals while we struggled through in our hiking boots and walking poles.

No, you’re not reading this wrong. We had 4 guides and there were only 4 of us. We were pretty well taken care of.

Day 1:

I guess we can call Day 1 a warmup. After they dropped us off at the start of the trail we walked all day but we were in no rush. I was lucky because I had been living in La Paz for a month so was already acclimated to the altitude. The others had to struggle along at first as their lungs tried to extract much too low levels of oxygen from the mountain air. The views were beautiful- green mountains, occasional waterfalls… By the end of the day we had climbed up higher and were able to see snow capped mountains too. These are my favorite. We were also very lucky because we were the only tourists on the trail during our trip. This was due to the fact that we did not choose the Inca Trail (Thank you Ellie!) where you are always surrounded by other groups and the fact that we went in January, low season in Peru.

The first night was the highest altitude campsite of the trip, Salkantaypampa, at 4100 meters above sea level, with an amazing view of Salkantay Mountain. We were exhausted when we got there. We found our tents already set up in a small shelter (after Jimmy Jhon tricked us into thinking the campsite was full and we would have to sleep outside… we were so young and gullible at the beginning…) After a delicious dinner Mr. Delicious walked out of the kitchen with a huge smile and a tray full of flaming rum bananas. These are exactly what they sound like. Bananas floating in bowls of rum, on fire. They were strong. I tried sipping them at first but then did it like a shot.

When we exited the shelter to walk to our tents I looked up at the sky. The clouds had all cleared and I saw the most incredible view of the sky. I have always loved the stars and from that altitude, far from civilization, I was in awe. Jimmy Jhon came out and started pointing out constellations. The night sky is different in the southern hemisphere and they also find constellations in the shadows, not only by connecting the stars. This might have been my favorite moment of the trek.

Day 2:
The hardest day, the day of the summit, 12 hours of trekking, also Ashley’s birthday. We woke up nervous around 5 am, evidenced by the nervous high altitude poops. During breakfast Mr. Delicious appeared with the cake. I think it was made with applesauce and was absolutely delicious. We sang Happy Birthday and then had to head out for our long day. In the morning we had to summit. There was a flat area for a while, then some heading upwards, then switchbacks. We were advised to keep going, not to stop, to remind our bodies that we were okay despite the low oxygen levels. Miley Cyrus helped me through (“We can’t stop, we won’t stop”).

Jimmy Jhon named our group the (sexy) Condoritas. This annoyed us. We insisted on being called just “Condoritas.” Feminism and stuff. Anyway, we kept “seeing condors” as an excuse to take a break and look at the scenery. Whether or not we actually saw any condors is up for debate. I like condors though.

Once we made it to the summit (I just made this sound a whole lot easier than it was, but this post is long enough already) we had a ceremony where Jimmy Jhon talked about the chakana, the Andean Cross, which is the portal to the different worlds. These worlds are represented by different animals: the snake, the puma, and the condor. It’s all very interesting and you can really feel the energy from the mountains.

Then we started our descent. We walked for a long time before lunch. You know me, that’s never a good thing for me. By the time we finally stopped for lunch my limbs were trembling so much I couldn’t even pop a squat. I was delirious. Then after we ate I think the protein rush made me giggle for about 15 minutes.

Later that day, we descended into the rainforest. In one day the scenery changed from snow capped peaks to lush green jungle. It was unbelievable. But I definitely like climbing up better than the descent. It was a long day.

Finally we arrived at the campsite (about 2 hours earlier than Jimmy Jhon had estimated- we were still a bit gullible at that point). We bought a couple beers (yes, there was a little store selling beer there) to celebrate Ashley’s birthday. But we were all exhausted and went to sleep pretty early.

Day 3

Day 3 started off super rainy. Then it slowed down to a drizzle. Since we were at a lower altitude it was much hotter. A complete change in climate. We didn’t have too many hours to hike. We walked through the rainforest to our lunch-spot where we played soccer (Me, Sarah, and Ashley versus Jimmy Jhon) until lunch was ready. Another one of those super surreal moments: playing soccer in the mountains of Peru.

After lunch we went to the most beautiful hot springs. I was expecting a muddy pit but it was clean and lovely. There was a rainbow and I tried to use the force to bring me my camera but ended up having to slow motion walk to get it and take the picture from the dry land. Luke Skywalker I am not.

That night we camped on a coffee plantation. Coffee. It was amazing. The owner showed us the different types of coffee bean, how he roasts it, grinds it up… then he made us the freshest most delicious coffee I have ever tasted. I can’t even begin to describe how good it smelled.

A Note About Food

The food was incredible. Lunch and dinner were 3 course meals, complete with an appetizer, soup, protein, vegetables, some fried stuff (always fried stuff), and there was always more than we could possibly eat. They also gave us snacks every day and at certain points in the trail we would stop at a snack spot. Snack spots are my favorite kind of spot.

Day 4

Day 4 was our last real day of trekking before Machu Picchu. We walked through acres of coffee plantations before climbing up into the jungle. It was thicker than before, with weird plants, huge leaves, banana trees. Again, a completely new climate. We saw our first Inca ruins as well as our first view of Machu Picchu at a distance. There were also bugs. Lots of bugs. I had red bites on my arms and legs for weeks. We climbed up for a while, then climbed down into the valley where there was a fast moving river.  We crossed a precarious looking bridge over the river and started on our way to Aguas Calientes, the town at the bottom of Machu Picchu where we would stay that night. Suddenly, Jimmy Jhon stopped. The trail ahead had collapsed. He disappeared into the brush looking for a way through. Then he came back, the only time we saw him looking nervous the entire trip. “We have to go back across the bridge and then I’m going to have to carry you across the river,” is what we think he said. We all were very much opposed to this idea but went back across the bridge not entirely sure we would survive the next 30 minutes of our lives. There we waited as Jimmy Jhon had disappeared again. Finally he was waving to us from the brush- he had found a way through! So we crossed the bridge for a third time, strapped our poles to our backpacks, and climbed hands and knees over the collapsed trail. All of us made it to the other side, safe but covered in mud and sweat.

About an hour later we were pretty much out of the wilderness. We had made it to a sort of drop-off point where tourists are dropped off before taking the train to Aguas Calientes, the only way to get to Machu Picchu if you don’t walk.

We hadn’t showered in 4 days, we were covered in mud, and we looked like hell. The tourists all kinda looked at us funny, judging us for our walking poles. After another delicious lunch we bid farewell to Fortunato and Mr. Delicious (Mario had actually headed home earlier in the trip) and walked down the railroad tracks to Aguas Calientes. We were running late so Jimmy Jhon kept on yelling at us to go faster. This was not my favorite part of the trip.

It was fun to guess where the other tourists were from. There was one guy with shiny dress shoes. We guessed he was from Brazil. And we liked his shoes.

Then we made it to Aguas Calientes. It’s a town. It has some hostels and restaurants, touristy artisan markets and stuff as well as some upscale hotels and restaurants for the rich people who want to go see Machu Picchu. Jimmy Jhon also seemed to know everyone in the town. Not the most charming of places but we had a nice meal and got to sleep in beds. To be completely honest I missed my sleeping bag and tent. And the stars.

At this point I kinda felt like the trip was over. We were back in a city, away from the wilderness, and I felt like I wasn’t going to be seeing too much more that would blow my mind the way Salkantay Mountain had.

Day 5 – Machu Picchu

The thing about Machu Picchu is that it’s best to get there for sunrise. Then you get that famous view of the ruins.

In order to reach Machu Picchu there are 2 ways you can go. You can take a bus up the switchbacks or you can climb the hundreds of steps straight up the side of the mountain. There had been a collapse on the road, though, so the buses weren’t leaving until 7:30 am. This was too late for us. We would be climbing.

We woke up at 4 am. It was still dark. We walked to the base of the steps where they hadn’t even opened the gate yet. We joined the queue of tourists waiting. Then they opened the gate and everyone rushed forward. Now it was almost a race. Everyone wanted to make it to the top before everyone else. Nobody wanted to miss the sunrise. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to climb thousands of steps at 4 am. It’s not easy. It was humid and we were soaked in sweat. We had been walking for 4 days, we hadn’t slept enough, and we hadn’t eaten breakfast. But eventually we made it to the top.

Machu Picchu didn’t open until 6 am so we waited a little bit. Anticipation. Sleepiness. Then it was 6:00. Since we came with our own personal guide (thanks, Jimmy Jhon,) we were one of the first groups to enter. I didn’t know what to expect. Then we turned the corner and saw it. Machu Picchu.

Everyone’s seen pictures of Machu Picchu. Everyone has heard stories, legends. But nothing compares to actually seeing it. “Welcome to my house,” said Jimmy Jhon.

I wasn’t expecting to be amazing. But I was breathless, at a loss for words. The sun, the mist, the ruins, the mountains… it was more incredible than I could have possibly imagined. Word of advice: GO. See it for yourself.

Jimmy Jhon led us on a tour of the ruins, which was also incredibly beautiful and interesting- the architecture, the temples, the stories. It was a lot to take in. He was also very wary of other tourists. Nobody else was allowed to listen to our tour. He glared at them.

After the tour we bid farewell to Jimmy Jhon. After 5 days of hiking we were unsure of what to do once our guide was gone. But we thanked him for an incredible journey.

Surprise Carl Update: There he was! Outside the Machu Picchu

It was still pretty early and we still had the rest of the day at Machu Picchu! We had paid the extra bit to be able to climb Wayna Picchu, that mountain that rises above Machu Picchu. You’ve all seen the pictures. It is a very steep and precarious path of steps and rocks leading up to the top, an even more precarious perch of rocks. This might have been the most difficult part of the entire hike. Or I was just exhausted from 5 days of hike and not much sleep. Either way, it was tough.

Surprise Carl Update: I was about to climb down after reaching the top of Wayna Picchu (and taking lots of pictures) when Carl’s red sunburnt face appeared over the edge of the rock. I said hi and, nice person that I am, offered to take a photo of him. This turned into a 20 minute ordeal of him posing (you should have seen his poses. They were pretty epic) and looking at the photo, and asking me to take more. Eventually I gave up and climbed down.

The climb down was even harder than the climb up. We went back down to Aguas Calientes where we attempted to have a nice pizza for lunch but ended up in a huge (almost physical) fight with the waitress. Then we took a fancy train where a weird dancing guy in a costume made us all very uncomfortable. Finally we made it back to Cusco where we attempted to have a nice pizza for dinner but somehow ended up with a pizza that had every kind of meat on it.

The next morning Ellie and Ashley left and Sarah and I hung out in Cusco, went to the reportedly “best” museum there (the Inca museum) where the English translations were so funny I giggled the entire time. That night we boarded our not-so-comfortable bus to La Paz, ready for our next and final part of this two week adventure: Salar de Uyuni!

A (not so brief) pause (for which I apologize) and now CARNAVAL

I'm sorry. I know that keeping a blog is a lot of work and I'm just falling down on the job. I've been incredibly busy. I don't even have time to blog right now!

I know you're all waiting on the edge of your seats for parts 2 and 3 of my travels but you'll just have to hang on a little longer. This post is about Carnaval in Oruro. (Then, I promise, I'll get back to those travel stories.)

Carnaval is pretty much the biggest party in Latin America. The most famous carnaval takes place every year in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. The second most famous takes place in Oruro, a small mining town in the Altiplano of Bolivia. So, naturally, I had to go. 

I left Friday with a very wise group of friends who decided to avoid the chaos and overpriced tickets of the La Paz bus terminal as 98% of La Paz tries to get a bus to Oruro. Instead, we took a taxi to El Alto and found ourselves a minibus driver looking for passengers for Oruro. It was perfect; a six-seater van for the six of us. We waited for our whole group to arrive and then started off. 

"Wait," said Gustavo from inside the van as we pulled away from the bus terminal. "We're leaving now? I don't have my things." None of the rest of us understood why exactly he had come to bus terminal without his backpack or clothes and got in the van with us or what he was expecting to happen. But he decided to keep going anyway. 

The bus ride was lovely. One of the girls had brought a guitar and we were serenaded as we bounced through the altiplano. The national brewery of Bolivia also gave us a great CD at the checkpoint leaving La Paz with 10 very popular (mostly reggaeton) songs and cool advice about not drinking and driving. After the guitar playing ceased we listened to the CD 5 times all the way through. 

Side note about the road to Oruro: It has been under construction for over 3 years. What should be a 3 hour ride takes around 4.5 or 5 hours because you have to weave back and forth around the construction zones, jumping from one road to the other and back again. 

Finally we arrived in Oruro. The city welcomes visitors with a huge statue of a mining helmet. It was late and dark and buses were entering the city from all over as the travelers flooded the city. When it is not Carnaval, Oruro is very empty and quiet. But for 3 days every year, it is filled with people and beer. Lots and lots of beer. (The people are also filled with beer.) 

I met up with my friends in the terminal (One guy was already so far beyond drunk; on the way to our lodging he fell in a cactus. This was the first time I met him and I spent a few minutes pulling spines out of his butt.) We went to my friend's house to drop off our stuff and then went to the main plaza to explore, buy our seats for the parade, and eat some food. 

This is where I lost my cell phone (it was a pickpocketer), ate some pretty narsty pizza that made me feel sick the rest of the night (it was the only vegetarian thing I could find in all of Oruro), and got yelled at by a vendor when I couldn't decide what kind of chocolate would make me feel better.

But really, it was a pretty insane sight. Thousands of people crowding in through entrances and exits that were horribly controlled, pushed up against each other, shouting; fireworks, alcohol everywhere (I keep going back to this but it's really one of the main characters in the Carnaval story), costumes, and foam. 

ESPUMA (or foam)

One of the main aspects of Carnaval is getting wet. Children with water guns patrol the streets. Chances are, no matter what you do, you're going to get wet. Since water shortages became a known problem in Bolivia, they put strict regulations on the Carnaval water celebrations. Now, children use espuma, or foam, that comes in spray bottles and smells horrible and makes your hair feel like straw. You can't walk down the street without getting sprayed. And foreigners are definitely targets. Espuma. Everywhere. 

The forces. Waiting. 

The next morning after a lovely breakfast of Api (a Bolivian sweet corn drink look it up it's purple), we headed to our gradería. This is a word I know in Spanish and don't know in English. Maybe it means grandstand. Or bleachers. We had paid 200 Bs. each the night before for these seats and their view of the parade. That's pretty cheap compared to seats in the main plaza. Anyway, the only way in and out of the seats was a precarious ladder placed behind them. I'm not sure what people with small children, old people, or very drunk people did. But somehow we made it. Then we watched the parade. And had some beer.

Our ladder.

There are number of Bolivian dances that are performed in these parades. Morenada, Diablada, Tinku, and Caporal are just a few. Hundreds of people march through the streets in amazing elaborate costumes, dancing for hours through the city. It's beautiful. 

Meanwhile, below the gradería, vendors walk by selling everything from ice cream to chorizo to candy to empanadas to beer and rum and other liquors. They pass the food up, you pass the money down. You never even have to leave your seat! And all the while, everything periodically gets covered with foam.

The only kind of beer they sell is Paceña. Paceña is the true winner of Carnaval.

The most fun that I had was at night when we climbed down and started dancing with the dancers. They are also drunk and also partying and having fun. They came over to the side and danced with us, gave us their hats, and were all around awesome. And trust me, there's nothing better for your self esteem than a huge drunk dancing Bolivian bear grabbing your face with both his paws and telling you that you are beautiful.

This went on for two days. I, however, had to sleep. I did not stay all night either night. I am immensely impressed by all who did. Carnaval is crazy. There are people who are drunk the entire time, partying in the streets, in discotecas, all over the city. I'm not the kind of person who thrives on alcohol and all night partying. I get sleepy and cranky and don't want any more beer. I found myself comparing Carnaval to Las Vegas. (Important note: Carnaval in Oruro is absolutely nothing like Las Vegas.) It doesn't feel like a real place, it's kind of a no-man's land where anything goes for a while and then people go home. It's really an experience. 

My friend Gris with a Diablo

I want to go back next year. And I want to dance. I want to dance Caporales. Men who dance Caporales are supposed to be pretty sexy. (Not gonna lie, my friends and I got pretty excited when the Caporales came by and rushed down to the street to dance with them.) The dance is really active and jumpy and cool. The women mostly just shake their butts. So I want to dance the men's Caporales dance with a line of women, called machas. Next year, folks. 

And now on a more somber note. There was a tragedy at Carnaval. One of the paserelas, or the passages over the parade, collapsed. These pasarelas were very poorly constructed, it was clear they were unsafe. On Saturday, one of the pasarelas collapsed on the most well-known band and as of today, five people were killed and over 70 injured. For a few hours we didn't know if Carnaval would continue. The dancers and musicians walked down the streets playing funeral songs. But later in the night Carnaval did go on. It's very important to both the culture and the economy of Oruro and Bolivia and people come to Oruro from all over. They felt that they could not stop it. But it was a huge tragedy that was not mentioned in international news. So now you know. 

I am now off to the great Cochabamba. I will post more blog posts more frequently including parts 2 and 3 of my travels. Plus some other notes about my life here in Bolivia. Which will probably go on longer than initially planned. 

Hasta luego! I hope I can catch a bus! 

Travels Part 1 in which we leave La Paz and go to Copacabana, Isla del Sol, and arrive in Peru

My travels are too much to fit into one blog post so I'm going to do it in 3 sections. Brace yourselves; this is the first section.

My friend Sarah and I met before college. We both did a per-orientation program through Northwestern called Project Wildcat, a week long backpacking/camping/bonding expedition. We spent our week in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I knew Sarah was teaching in Chile and when I found out I was going to be spending some time in Bolivia, I decided to see if she'd be interested in doing some traveling together. From PWild 2008 to South America 2014. We ended up traveling together for 16 days in South America. And neither of us wanted to kill the other by the end. (Or at least, I didn't want to kill her and if she wanted to kill me she hid it very very well.) So I would say it was a successful arrangement.

Here is the trip in 11 steps:
1. Start in La Paz
2. Take a bus to Copacabana stay the night in a hostel
3. Take a boat to the beautiful Isla del Sol, hike the island, see the views
4. Take an overnight bus to Cusco, Peru
5. Tour Cusco for 2 days
6. Embark on the high altitude 5 day Salkantay trek through the mountains to Machu Picchu
7. MACHU PICCHU!
8. Take an overnight bus to La Paz
9. Take an overnight bus to Uyuni in the South of Bolivia (this is not a typo we took 2 overnight buses in a row)
10. Do the legendary Salar de Uyuni 3 day jeep tour
11. Overnight bus to La Paz

Sarah came to La Paz to meet up with me. We did some typical La Paz things like eat salteñas and cuñapes and went to the witch market and tourist market parts of the city. I needed to buy a couple things for our trek so we spent some time shopping and ate pizza. (spoiler: we ate a lot of pizza on our trip).

Then on Thursday January 16 we put our packs on our backs and headed to the cemetery in La Paz, the place where you catch a bus to Copacabana. These are not fancy buses; just minibuses and old tourist buses that charge you 15-20 Bolivianos (a little over 2 dollars) for the 3 hour trip to Copacabana. We had a choice between a little white minibus for 20 Bs. ("We'll get there faster," the driver told us) and a larger bus for 15 Bs. We went with the cheaper one. A decision that we regretted about 30 minutes later. Our bus struggled up to the hill to El Alto where it made the usual stop before starting the journey to Copacabana. There was some sort of accident and our driver got involved. We couldn't see very well but I'm pretty sure it escalated into a fist fight after which our driver was seen speeding away on the back of a police motorcycle. The details of what happened are hazy but we sat there waiting for something, anything to happen for about an hour. Finally the driver came back and we were on our way.

Things they don't tell you about the bus ride to Copacabana: You have to take a ferry. The bus gets on a weird looking flat rectangular boat and crosses a narrow channel. We rode the ferry inside the bus but some people got off. It was a little bit precarious; I was actually all set to open the window and swim for it if something went wrong. They collected a small toll for the ferry (another thing they don't warn you about) and we continued. It was too dark to take pictures but it was a pretty crazy experience.

I've mentioned before that one of my favorite things about traveling is meeting people. Fellow backpackers are just easy to meet; almost everyone is open to chat or have dinner or a drink. When Sarah and I got to Copacabana we didn't really have any plans. We got off the bus in the dark street and started debating which direction we should walk to find a hostel. (Mom, don't worry, this is not as unsafe as it sounds. Copacabana is very small and knows where to direct its tourists. Everything was under control.) Three Argentine guys who had been on our bus came up to us and asked if we knew where we were staying. We didn't and neither did they, so we all five of us started walking toward the main street. We entered a few hostels asking for enough beds for all five of us and they were so nice that when they found a hostel with only a triple room left they wouldn't take it because they wanted to make sure we found a place too. Eventually we found a place with a triple and a double room that was a good enough price and seemed nice enough.

On ranking hostels in Copacabana: "Nice enough" means definitely use a sleeping bag under your sheets because they probably haven't been washed in about 4 years.

We found out that the town of Copacabana shuts down at around 11 pm every night and we had to be back in our hostel by then or we would be sleeping in the street. So the five of us quickly dropped off our stuff and shared a massive pizza. It's always very interesting to share meals and conversations with these people from all over the world you have just met and will probably never see again.

The dock in Copacabana

The next morning we woke up early (only partly because we set an alarm, the other reason we woke up early was because the sound of a television and a child from the next room was inexplicably amplified in our room) and bought a ticket for the boat to Isla del Sol. We also bought our bus ticket to Cusco. We planned to take an overnight bus and had heard horror stories of unpleasant long bus rides in very uncomfortable buses, changing buses multiple times. We didn’t really know where to buy a ticket so we went to the first place we saw with a sign. The woman told us that they were sold out of direct buses but we could take a small minibus to the border about a 15 minute ride, and change buses there. She told us we wouldn’t have to change buses again and like the silly foreigners we are, we believed her.

Anyway, then we got on a boat for the ride to the Isla del Sol. Due to lack of research we had no idea that the boat ride would be 2 hours. It was 2 hours.

Views during the 2 hour boat ride

IMPORTANT RECURRING THEME: This was the first time we saw Carl, a great character through our travels in Peru. He was blond and extremely sunburnt, wearing shorts that exposed huge gashes on his legs. He was chatting animatedly with two girls from Germany who were pleased to be chatting with such an objectively handsome dude. When it got too cold for shorts (definitely within the first 28 seconds of the trip) he explained that he only had one pair of pants for all of his travels and pulled out one glove, he had lost the other. Carl, to put it bluntly, was a hot mess.

Isla del Sol

Once we got to the Isla del Sol we bid farewell to our Argentine buddies and began our hike across the island. We were walking from the north end to the south end where we would catch a boat back to the mainland and get on our bus to Cusco. “Practice for our trek in Peru.” Ha. Ha ha ha. It was beautiful. An island with no cars or buses or motorcycles, full of farms, pigs, and some hippie foreigners.

Banana break: one of the best decisions we made

Lake Titicaca in its full glory

Carl update: Boats only come and go from the island at certain times. If you miss the boat at those times, you’re stuck. On the way down the many steps to the dock at the south end of the island, we ran into Carl. He was very flustered. “When do the boats leave? When do the boats leave?!!!!” We told him they left at 3:30, we had about 15 minutes. “I have to make my bus!” And he charged past us, almost knocking us flat on our faces.

Eventually we made it back and headed straight to catch our bus. We got on a small cramped minibus (everything was extremely disorganized, we filled out our paperwork to cross the border, I had to do it 3 times because I kept messing up.) and suddenly we found ourselves back with CARL! Good thing he was in such a rush before. We chatted with him a little bit about his plans once we all got to Cuzco. He mentioned that he was planning to stay in a hostel called the VIP House that was supposed to be nice and cheap. We made a mental note.

After 15 minutes we were at the border. This is what the border looks like:



It was chaos. We were super excited to be crossing into Peru but everything was a confusing mess of people and officials and buses. We made it through the line to leave Bolivia and walked through the arch into Peru. It was a pretty bizarre feeling. We went through the Peru customs building and got our passports stamped. The Peru side was a bit more organized than the Bolivia side. But I'm learning that things like that are to be expected when you're dealing with Bolivia. This is not a secret. It's just the way it is.



We somehow found the correct bus and it was not even close to as comfortable as we had hoped. We began to realize that maybe we had been cheated like so many other tourists. But it was a bus so it took us to Puno, where we had heard most buses stop on the way to Cusco. And we had to change buses. Then we knew we had been cheated. But what can you do. Nothing, you can do nothing. We had about a 20 minute panic time in the Puno bus station when we thought they had lost our tickets but eventually were on a new bus and tried to get some sleep. We expected to arrive at around 6 in the morning.

We didn't.

We got to Cusco at 4:45 local time. It was raining, eerie, everything was closed, the city shut down. We debated what to do, eventually deciding to head to a hostel to try to get a few hours of sleep. We found a cab and he asked us where we wanted to go. We told him the name of the only hostel we knew: the VIP House. (Thanks, Carl!) We got the only open beds in the hostel, realizing that we might be screwing Carl out of his hostel but it was 4:45 and we were exhausted.

So we slept. And woke up the next morning and explored Cusco, historic capital of the Inca Empire. It is a beautiful city - we took a free walking tour and enjoyed some pisco sours, local food, and markets. It's very clean and very geared towards tourists. (very different from La Paz.) It's also a party city; at night the tourists and locals crowd the discotecas and bars.

Plaza de Armas, the central plaza

Narrow streets

The view

We had two really nice days in Cusco. And then we left for our trek. STAY TUNED!

First visit to the group home

Well it's been a while since my last update so I will have to decide the most important things to write about.

The biggest thing that happened was on Saturday I visited a group home in El Alto for the first time.

The home is called Munasim Kullakita. It's one of the main places where we will be filming over the next couple months so we went to meet the girls and do a sort of introduction to what we will be doing. We went with Yasenia, the young theater teacher who will run the classes. It was pretty incredible to be there. It was also intensely sad. It made my heart hurt in a deep way that I can't even begin to explain. The girls were all so young, so full of life, so beautiful. But they have been through so much. More than I can even imagine. They are between 13 and 19 years old, the majority around 16 or 17. There are 16 girls living in the house right now and of those five have babies. Almost all of them have lived on the streets of El Alto for some amount of time and have been abused, addicted to drugs and alcohol, and many have worked as underage prostitutes.

When we first got there the girls were just coming back from a group outing. They ran up to us (some with their babies on their backs) and greeted us in typical Bolivian fashion, a cheek-to-cheek kiss. They introduced themselves and introduced their children, asked who I was, what I was doing, what that weird thing I was holding was (it was a boom pole and microphone). I immediately felt welcomed to the home, something I was definitely not expecting.

We went inside and talked for a while. Yasenia had them go around and introduce themselves and she talked to them about the theater classes and the plan for the program.

Yasenia. This young woman is absolutely inspiring. She is only 22 years old but absolutely commands the room. She is from El Alto and has been through her share of troubles but now works for Teatro Trono doing theater classes like ours and also working with the audio visual section of the group to teach video classes and help kids in different communities make documentaries. She is so wonderful with the girls and has an intelligence and a confidence much greater than her years. I was pretty amazed to watch her interact with the girls. We are lucky to have her helping us and as a character in our film.

Anyway, they were all pretty excited about the theater classes. One of the biggest reasons they wanted to participate was to help them forget. Forget all the horrible things that have happened to them.

Afterwards, we gave them some juice and mingled and talked a little bit. One of the girls knits wristwarmers (They're gloves with no fingers. Maybe they're called wristwarmers.). I asked if I could see them and told her I really liked them. They're quite well made, I was very impressed. She offered to make me a pair and then asked me what color I wanted. We settled on blue and white. She was so excited and happy that I actually wanted a pair of them. She wanted to make sure they were ready for the next time I visited which is not for a few weeks because I'm traveling. Her face fell a little when I told her that. These girls want affection, want affirmation, want love so badly. You can see it in their eyes when they look at you.

I asked her how long it takes her to make a pair of them. She told me she can make 3 pairs in a day, if she does it all day long. Then she told me sometimes she does. You see, she needs something to keep her hands and mind busy. When she doesn't have that, she remembers the horrible things her uncle and her father and other men did to her. And she gets sad, starts to cry. So she knits. And she's doing better.

When you meet a group of people, sometimes you really feel a connection with one of them right away. I felt that with this girl. I wanted to give her a hug, to help her in some way. But right now, there's nothing I can do. Hopefully I will see her again in a few weeks. And hopefully she will enjoy the theater classes, hopefully they will help her work through some of her past, be a sort of therapy for her. That's really all I can hope for right now.

And then a complete change in people, place, feelings.

That night I went out with my friend from Cochabamba who was visiting for the weekend. She likes gringos so we went to this crazy party hostel in La Paz. Sometimes I have trouble with this sudden turn; going from a place like the group home to a party hostel. This place was absolutely crazy. Absolutely full of men from all over the world with very few women. So, you know what that means. It doesn't matter what you look like, dress like, smell like... the men will swarm. It was overwhelming. Kinda neat to meet people from Brazil, Spain, Australia, the USA, England, and tons of other places. But when they started removing their clothing and dancing on the bar I was ready to head out.


I've been a little sick since the weekend. I have a cold and had an upset stomach (okay fine I admit it I ate some street food when I was drunk and I can probably pretty safely blame that). But I'm starting to feel better.

AND

I'm traveling for 2 weeks starting tomorrow! My friend from Northwestern came to Bolivia today. Tomorrow we leave for Copacabana, then head to Cusco to climb Macchu Pichu, then we're going to Salar de Uyuni, the biggest salt flats in the world. So that's all very exciting and I'm psyched for the trip.

So that's it!

They Say a Picture is Worth A Thousand Words...

...unfortunately today I did not bring my camera.


Today, January 6, was Reyes Magos. I am not Catholic and this whole idea was completely new to me. The first sign of the holiday I saw was when I was rushing back home from the gym at 9:08 to shower and get ready for my Spanish class at 9:30. I was haphazardly speed walking down the street, avoiding pedestrians, broken sidewalk, puddles, and minibuses, when I saw a small old woman carrying a little cradle with a fancy looking doll inside. (Please excuse my ignorance in these religious matters.) "That's funny," I thought. "I'm late!" I thought.

After my Spanish class I met up with my friend (yes, I have a friend) and we ate some salteñas before heading to the San Francisco Museum which happens to also be the San Francisco Church. We took a tour of the museum which was cool but pretty much your standard tour of an old monastery/church. (I also realized that I need to brush up on my Bolivian history. Does anyone have an old Bolivian history textbook?) One of the cool things was that since it was built on a hill, there is a garden in the middle of the second floor, the top of the hill. Then we went up to the bell tower and saw a really incredible view of the city. We were by no means in one of the highest buildings in the city but something about the silhouetted bells, the slanted red roof, and the stone walls with the city in the background made it all pretty amazing.

Anyway, back to Reyes Magos. The tradition here is that you bring your baby Jesus to church and pray. So people buy these very fancy looking baby Jesuses (according to to spell-check Jesuses is not a word so what's the plural of Jesus?) and little clothes and shoes and baskets and hats and blankets and all kinds of accessories and carry them very delicately through the streets to church. We were at the San Francisco Cathedral during Mass so the whole plaza surrounding it was full of waves of people carrying these baskets. And the streets nearby were lined with vendors selling these dolls and clothes and shoes; all different colors, different sizes... it was really incredible.

Next to the Cathedral is a street called Sagarnaga. It's the Witch Market, the part of La Paz where they sell the sacramental and religious items (such as dried llama fetuses and all sorts of ceremonial things that you burn like fake money, miniature food, and other symbolic items) as well as the touristy hats and bags and scarves that you have all seen before. Today, the street was overflowing with people selling the baby Jesuses as well as Indigenous shamans performing ceremonies, people burning incense and money and coca leaves... the smell and the smoke and the noise and the colors and the crowd was overwhelming and really amazing. The mix of the Catholic religion and the Indigenous traditions never fails to fascinate me.


And now some important important points from the past week where I did not post anything:

Today I also went to my friend's parents' house for lunch. It was in a place pretty far out in the Zona Sur, the southern part of La Paz. It was very nice of them to invite me and make me a nice (vegetarian) lunch. It was quiet there, away from the noise and the smog. It was a nice change.

People here are generally really really warm and welcoming and friendly. This is not only true about Tupac's family and friends and my direct contacts, but about many people I've met. They are quick to invite you for lunch (see above) and really try to help you out. I contacted a few friends of friends in order to meet people here and they are always very willing to talk to me and meet up, take me around the city. Much more so than I've ever encountered in the United States.

Last Thursday I went to a market in El Alto. WAIT I have a picture of the view from this one.

It was crazy. You can buy anything there. Clothes, sleeping bags, toys, books, pots and pans, food, plants, chickens, puppies, car parts, cameras, DVDs... I could go on. It's a maze of streets lined with tents where people are selling things. There was so much to see. I'll probably be back.

Pizza in La Paz: surprisingly awesome. 
Chinese food in La Paz: maybe skip it.

Last night I saw Hunger Games: Catching Fire (in Spanish it’s called Juegos de Hambre: En Llamas someone explain that one to me) for the second time, dubbed in Spanish, and it was still awesome. 

Speaking of which, I want to go watch a movie so I'm going to stop blogging now. 


Oh! New Years Update!
1. They really did dance all night long.
2. There was a couch.
3. When I woke up it was light out and they were still dancing.