Parents and Administration

Colombia is an enigmatic country; it finds itself on the cusp of newly acquired affluence, a growing middle class, increased security and yet struggles with a violent reputation around the world, a reduced but continuing and ever present guerilla insurgency, and interregional conflicts with neighbors - then there is the drug trade which is like a parasitic tumor on Colombian society. All this, along with amazing natural beauty and diversity and an almost-too-nice populace combines to make Colombia a place unequalled (for better or worse) in South America.

Fortunately, I was able to share a small part of the enigma with my parents. Unfortunately, with the time limits and distances between places of interest we didn’t make it that far a field. Still, after Bogotá we found ourselves in Villa de Leyva – a classic colonial town – and happened to arrive in the middle of a large local week-long festival followed by the 200th anniversary of Colombian independence. Both turned out to be semi-bizarre celebrations. Probably the highlight for me was fossicking in the arid regions around town and scoring a handful of ammonite fossils. We ended our little family reunion with a visit to a massive Catholic cathedral carved out of a gigantic salt mine – bloody thing even included all the Stations of the Cross.

In Villa de Leyva with a Colombian couple we met

So, here I am ensconced in this enigmatic country…and I have to say that I am fully enjoying it at the moment. Still abiding in Bogotá, I have begun a somewhat administrative period of my travels. I’m in the process of half-heartingly applying for English language teaching jobs (I wouldn’t mind staying here to work, but not sure I want to commit to a year…plus I’m inherently lazy) while also (more seriously) putting some applications together for jobs in the States. When all is said and done I guess I’m not crazy about living in Bogotá, so I reckon I’ll find myself on a bus to Medellin sometime this week, hopefully traveling with a Peruvian girl that I met here in Bogotá. Maybe the city of ‘eternal spring’ will show me another side to this enigma.

Colombianismo

After possibly crossing my last border here in South America I now find myself in Colombia…land of guerillas, cocaine, salsa and plastic surgery (also a lot more, I'm just trying to catch your attention. Did it work?). In fact, Cali – where I am right now – is not only the salsa capital of SA (and possibly the world) but also renowned as hosting the populace whom goes under the knife most often…incredibly even more than LA. Unbelievable. Actually, it was believable after walking around the mall today and having to duck and weave to avoid all the fake boobs poking out of the blouses!

I passed through Ecuador relatively quickly, partly from time worries, but also because I just didn’t posses the gumption to go vagabond style. I did however spend a wonderful week in Quito with my exchange brother Andy. After not seeing Andy for 12 or 13 years it was slightly surreal to hang out with him…especially because all my memories of him are from a fourteen year-old’s perspective. Now, as adults, our interactions were slightly different and much more enjoyable. Also great was meeting his lovely new wife, staying with his parents in luxurious comfort (it was a true break from the road), and while waiting to see Andy’s band catching a police chase & capture involving both gunshots and pepper spray…it was a choice night.


So…Colombia, huh. Not far to go now to the Caribbean….one endless road trip from the meeting of the stormy Atlantic and Pacific oceans, north, all the way to the calm Caribbean sea. Still, I have to make one last push to get there and in the mean time there is heaps to see and parents to meet (hopefully they make it this time). So, after a spot of salsa here in Cali it’s off to the Zona Cafeteria to soak in some aromatic java and then to Bogotá to meet the parents and, because the people are so damn nice here in Colombia, possibly look for a job teaching English.

Invalid Accounts

Dear blog. I´m sure you´ve been on the edge of your seat waiting to hear of exciting Ecuadorian exploits....well, the wait will have to continue. I did spend a great four days on a farm in Vilcabamba with some fascinating people who are trying to change the world...but the more recent truth is that I have been basically out of action for the past week with serious back and neck pain culminating in excrutiating migranes. I´m not even sure how it came about in full...all I know is that I am sick and bloody tired of being an invalid. At least there are football matches to pass the time.

So, I´m heading to Quito tomorrow to visit with my ´long lost Ecuadorian brother´ Andrés, who I haven´t seen in twelve years or so...and possibly a visit to the hospital. Yipee and boo hoo.

The Marathon Border

There is nothing fast about traversing the border between Peru and Ecuador in the remote outpost of La Balsa. However, it did prove interesting and, although long, a beautiful journey.

I left from Chachapoyas, Peru – the capital of the Amazonas province in northern Peru. Actually, Chachapoyas proved to be one of my most favorite places in Peru. Almost no-one goes to Chacha, probably because it is so far from all the gringo highlights in southern Peru…but Chacha mystifies the inquisitive traveler with literally hundreds of jaw-dropping things to do and see. I also happened to show up in town on the eve of the biggest festival that the town hosts…always a good omen.

After a few days in Chacha, with a visit to Kuelap – an archaeological ruin only slightly less amazing than Machu Picchu (but with no tourists…we had the entire place to ourselves), and a hike to the Gotca waterfall – the third highest in the world, I decided to trade in Peru for Ecuador.

Dawn at Kuelap (on top of hill to right)

Instead of taking the most traveled crossing, on the coast, or the second crossing with a good road and high traffic, I choose a much more remote border crossing with shitty roads and next to no traffic. In fact, it turned out to be a bit of an epic adventure just to get from Chachapoyas, Peru to Vilcabamba, Ecuador. Here’s a synopsis:

Number of days: 2
Hours inside a vehicle: 17
Kilometers traveled: 312
Vehicles: 4 collectivos (shared car taxis: think as many people jammed in the car as possible), 3 moto-taxis, 1 open-bed truck, 1 bus, 1 pedestrian bridge
Armed checkpoints: 3 official, 1 unofficial
Dead animals: one dead chicken….reckless driving is a killer
Coconuts shared with border official: 2
Near death experiences: uncountable

Explanation: lots of different vehicles taken over multiple days…needless to say it was uncomfortable. I also encountered, aside from the normal police/army checkpoints, two blokes stopping cars at a makeshift speed bump in the middle of nowhere in Peru. One had a shotgun and the other a rifle with a scope (I suppose in case anyone decided to run)…they definitely did not belong to the government, but they were asking for donations of monetary value. It’s remarkably easy to give money to guys with guns. Also, in one of the vehicles we managed to tenderize a chicken for someone’s dinner…not surprising considering the speed the driver took the very narrow dirt road with very steep cliffs sprouting up around each corner accompanied by a semi operated by a suicidal driver coming from the opposite direction. To top it off, after walking across the bridge to Ecuador (and having to knock house to house to find the immigration officer – on both sides of the border) I helped the immigration officer crack open some coconuts so we could reap the benefits of the juice. It was a pretty laid back border.

All in all, in anyone finds themselves traveling and encountering tedium at the easiness of transportation, or boredom for that matter, than I suggest trying the border crossing less traveled. It will put a skip back in your step…or, at the hands of your eighteen year old chauffer, you’ll drive fifty km/h too fast through a dangerous curve in the pothole ridden gravel road and end up in a tumbling ball of metal and flesh bouncing three hundred meters to you death, ending your journey in the pristine river flowing through the bottom of the valley – either way you’ll be at peace at the end of the journey.

Now, (finally) in Vilcabamba (a town that boasts extreme longevity in its population) I have encountered a tough decision…go and work for some days on a farm owned by really fascinating people who are ‘planting a seed crystal for a new civilization’ or find somewhere to watch the world cup with hundreds of fanatical Ecuadorians. Damn, I’m no good at these choices.

Hiking in Huaraz

To travel in a country with as much diversity as Peru is truly wonderful…the diversity I am referring to in this case is geographical. It’s amazing to be so close to the equator yet wake up in the morning with glaciers in every direction and ice on your tent.

I am writing from Huaraz, Peru in the Cordillera Blanca…the largest mountain range outside the Himalayas and the largest tropical range in the world. There are over 22 summits breaching the 6000 meter barrier (that’s 20,000 ft for you imperialists) and countless more over 5000. In fact, this place hosts the world’s largest supply of tropical glaciers and some of Peru’s best Andean vistas.

To take advantage of this natural adventure land I went on a four day trek through the cordillera, huffing and puffing and swearing to every deity I know to make it up to the pass at 4750 m and dreaming of fires as I shivered in my tent at only slightly lower elevations. The pain was well worth it, though, and the trek proved to be one of the best I’ve done here in South America.


On my second night I camped with some French trekkers at a cold 4250 meter campsite. In the morning, just as I was soaking in the first aromas of my coffee, I was alerted to a cow prowling around my tent. As I ran over to scare it off it ran away with something in its mouth. A chase ensued…although a short one – the cow had a lot more breath at that altitude than I did. Five minutes later I lay there panting and swearing at the cow and she just stared at me while eating my favorite t-shirt…completely eating it. The French couple obviously found the whole episode to be hilarious.

All in all it was a great trek in a most beautiful area…and to top it off, I finished the trek last night with one of the most popular street snacks here…a kebab of cow heart – I just wish it was from the cow who ate my shirt.

Who said vacations are relaxing? The second installment of my May visitors to Peru has just finished and with my sister has gone all my energy.

Two ten day vacationers back to back, both going to Cuzco, Machupicchu and Lima leaves no rest for the wicked, nor the host/guide/translator.

I can’t complain though…spending ten days with my little sister here in Peru, especially after not seeing her for almost two years, was absolutely great. She arrived here in Lima and we motored out on a 24 hour bus trip to Cuzco where we spent a day adjusting to the altitude and seeing the city a bit.

We decided to go to Machupicchu the cheap way…basically by avoiding the monopolistically expensive PeruRail train. We had planned to head to Aguas Calientes the ‘back way’ to MP, through Santa Maria and Santa Teresa…but a strike by local workers in Santa Maria blocked our plans. So we went the only other way possible…by taking a local bus as far in the Sacred Valley as we could, to Piscacucho, and then walking the train tracks down through the valley all the thirty kilometers to Aguas Calientes.

The walk started off pleasant enough…it was a nice day with nice things to look at, but for ten km we only had the rough rocks of the tracks to walk on. Later, a dirt trail followed the tracks, but by then our feet, not to mention our bodies, were done in and we moped, crawled and sold our souls to the Devil for the last ten km only to arrive after dark and have to get up before four a.m. in order to see the sunrise in Machupicchu. Such tough work traveling is, as Carlie found out…but she motored on like a champion. In fact, we didn’t arrive back in Cuzco until 12:30 a.m. the next morning in a marathon day of ruins, walking, crossing a river in a cable car motored by hand, and an eight hour car ride.



We left Cuzco the next day in order to see some other parts of Peru before Carlie had to fly back. We bussed it to Nazca, crawled up a paltry tower to see some oblique views of the Nazca Lines and then we drifted through the desert to Pisco where we had our first quality sleep in what seemed like an eternity. Pisco happens to be the jumping off point for the ‘poor man’s Galapagos’…Las Islas Ballestas - islands made famous by shit, bird shit to be exact.

In some places the guano is, or used to be 50 meters thick. Now, these shitty islands are visited by tourists because of the amazing seabird life and marine life. It was pretty amazing…birds in amazing numbers, lots of bird shit, beautiful islands dotted with natural arches with waves crashing into them and sea lions popping their heads out of the water in curiosity at the passing boat.

We then shot back up to Lima for one last day in the city whereupon we met some great people in the hostel. In fact, our roommate, who just recently found out she is pregnant, claims to have a shamanic penis growing inside her stomach, of which she is very happy and slightly disconcerted (about the penis part). She is also convinced that my beard is big enough that it may in fact be host to a slightly insane, coke addicted alcoholic woman who is an acquaintance of ours…ala Peter Griffin from Family Guy (see episode with bird in beard).

Agents of Feeling

During the past ten days I have digressed from my normal traveling mode. In fact, going into the past fortnight, I was slightly weary of what I was going to be doing, if for no other reason than because of money. Thankfully hindsight sees no regrets on my part. The reason behind this digression was the visit of a good friend of mine from Chicago.

Ben and I have known each other since university and I was very much looking forward to seeing a friendly face – someone with whom I have a history with and not just a fleeting, anonymous week that ends with an exchange of emails and the very slightest possibility of a future face to face meeting.

Due to the extremely dictatorial, rigid, and inherently selfish vacation allowances that US companies give, Ben only had ten days to soak in the flavors of Peru. Like most people who are given a hard choice, he consolidated his options and chose to spend his time with the hardest-hitting and most rewarding things in Peru…namely a five day trek to Machupicchu and me, of course.

After two days exploring Cuzco and acclimatizing to the altitude we struck out on a five day, 60 km trek over and around Salkantay Mountain…the second highest in the Cuzco region (6275 meters). We spent a bit of money and went on an organized tour and lucked out in a big way. Not only did we have a great group to hike with, but the guides, organization and, especially, the food were great. Nothing beats sitting outside, being overlooked by a six thousand meter, glacier-clad, mountain and being served an absolutely delicious gourmet meal.

We walked for four days, reaching a top elevation of 4650 meters, camping each night, and passing through uncountable climatic and vegetative zones. Our second day was, possibly, the most amazing. After waking up in our tents at 4100m (15255 feet), we climbed, huffing and puffing, to the pass which was cold and windy and little or no vegetation. We had a mostly sunny lunch a little lower and watched the clouds float in from the Amazon basin only to hit the mountains in front of us and dissipate into the thin air (excuse the pun). Then, from the high altiplano-like zone we were in, we descended into the clouds and watched as slowly shrubs, bushes and small trees started to appear. Eventually we found ourselves in the high jungle and were completely surrounded by a cornucopia of flowers….every color that you could imagine. We camped that night somewhat below 3000m and wrapped ourselves in the warmth of the lower elevations.

We followed rives down toward Machupicchu for the next two days witnessing a myriad of plants, flowers, bugs and interesting characters, two of which merit mention. On our third day Ben and I took a bit of San Pedro, a cactus that grows locally and is used by shamans. It is great for walking in the bush because it gives you energy and enhances colors and other senses. It was an interesting and mostly benign experience because of the small dose that we took, but we met two people that day that provided much color to the rest of the trip, for both us and the other people in our group. The first character was part of an older group of people walking the trail (I don’t think they hit the altitude like we did). She was maybe in her fifties and as she walked by I commented that she had more paint on her face that the Mona Lisa, which was true but not the whole truth. As we discovered upon later sightings of her, she couldn’t move the upper half of her face due to God knows how much Botox and face-lifts. It was actually scary to see her…the bottom half of her face was smiling, the top half (was covered in makeup) didn’t move or have a wrinkly on it. Who blow-dries their hair on a jungle trail? We saw Mona many times after that and it got scarier every time. Unfortunately we failed to get a picture of her.

The second notable hiker we met that day was a young man from San Francisco. He walked with us for a while and told us he was going to see all Peru in five weeks. He thought that was pretty bad-ass and thus asked a member of our group, Tim, how long he is in Peru (thinking it would be only a week or two). Tim, an American PhD candidate lives in Peru, in Cotahuasi! The young guy, slightly humbled, asks Tim was he does…Tim replies that he is an anthropologist and then asks the same question back. The guy says, “me?, I’m an Agent of Feeling here in Peru”. Not sure what to make of that, Tim asks what he does back in the States? “There?, I’m an Agent of Feeling there as well.” We ran into the Agent of Feeling, as he became know, later while watching a caterpillar emerge from his cocoon and the Agent only let us watch if would ‘send it our love’. It certainly takes all types….

We finished the trek, our fifth day, at the ruins of Machupicchu. It is very touristy and expensive but for reason….not only is it an amazing archaeological site both in its grandeur and preservation, but is situated on top of a steep mountain in a most dramatic setting and surrounded by jagged, jungle-clad mountains and deep-cut river valleys. What amazing engineers the Incans were! We were blessed with both Mona Lisa and the Agent of Feeling at the ruins…no day would be complete without them.

After Machupicchu Ben and I went back to Lima for two days and saw a small bit of the city before he returned to Chicago. All in all, it was a great trip….I would recommend the Salkantay trek to Machupicchu to anyone not interested in walking the over-populated Inca Trail and sharing every campsite with 500 other people every night.

Tonight I’m going to pick my little sister up from the airport here in Lima. Guess where we’re going? You got it…back to Machupicchu!